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absurdthirst · 7 months

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The Irish Escape {Modern!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.9k

Warnings: Rudeness, Pero being an asshole, prejudice against Americans, hypothermia, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal sex, rough sex

Comments: Freshly arrived in Ireland to visit the cottage your estranged grandmother has willed you, you run into a rude Spaniard. Unsure of why he hates Americans and why you seemingly can't stop running into him.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It’s raining when you arrive in Dingle, County Kerry. You curse your suitcase as you try to drag it along the garden path that leads up to the small cottage known as Fairy Lodge. You fumble to find the key under the mat and work quickly to unlock the door, shivering as you step into the entrance, dragging your case behind you. You shut the door and shrug off your coat, wiping your boots on the mat. The cottage - tiny and cute - was left to you by your grandmother. She recently passed but you hadn’t seen her since you were ten after she decided to follow her dream and buy a house in Ireland. She left it to you in her will with the note, “always follow your dreams” and you decided to take a vacation and check the place out. It’s beautiful, even in the rain, and you are looking forward to exploring the area your grandma loved so much. After drying off and opening up the cottage. It’s quaint in the best way and you check the cupboards to find nothing, not even a pack of cookies. With a sigh, you look out of the window to find the rain has stopped so you put your coat on and make your way out onto the damp streets. You aren’t sure where to go but you googled a small pub nearby so you make your way over to it, hungry and desperate for a drink after traveling.

“Come on, mate.” William rolls his eyes and shakes his head, putting his pint down to slap his friend on his shoulder. “You should stay and drink. The rain’s gonna start again and it’s not like you can work.” He chuckles, imagining how much the Spaniard would curse working out in the rain. When Pero had shown up at his door nearly a year ago, angry and adrift with no plan for his life, he had taken in his old friend. Let him live with him until he had purchased a cottage down the road from the Garin farm. “Nothin’ better to do than drink.” Pero grumbles, shaking his head as he stands up, pushing his chair back. “No.” He huffs, pulling his coat off the back of the chair and shrugging into it before jamming his flat billed hat onto his head. “I’m not paying for your beers.” He glares at the Irishman, knowing that if he stays, he will be left paying the tab. He turns and strides towards the door, not noticing the woman turning away from the counter with a hot coffee in her hands.

You gasp as the man knocks into you and your coffee spills over his front, soaking his jeans, and you immediately bounce back. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I- shit.” You place the cup down on the counter and you reach for the napkins, turning back to try and help the man mop up the mess you made of him.

The accent makes him immediately seeth in rage, barely even paying attention to your remorseful expression as you shove the napkins at his crotch. Pero slaps your hands away, hissing at the heat of the coffee. “Fucking Americans.” He spits, shooting you a deadly glare. “Ruining fucking everything.” Shoving past you, he slams out of the door and out of sight.

Your jaw drops and you stare at the door as he swings on the hinges. You can’t believe what he spat at you and you turn to look at the men gathered around the bar. “I- I didn’t see him behind me.” You choke and the blonde man shakes his head, “don’t mind the miserable Spanish bastard. He’s just not a fan of Yankees at the moment.” He chuckles and gulps down the rest of his pint. “Not your fault, lass.” He tells you and you sigh, “he made that crystal clear.”

The bartender shakes his head, “Garin, that Spanish git needs to apologize to the lady.”

William scoffs, “you tell him that.”

You huff, “doesn’t matter. Can I get another cup?” You ask the bartender who nods. You sigh as you finally sit down in the corner, your annoyance at the rude Spaniard fading as you relax.

William decides that he needs to make up for his friend’s rude behavior. He stands up and groans, carrying his pint back to the bar for a refill. He nods to the bartender and slides it down to where he’s pouring you another coffee. “So.” He leans against the rubbed worn wood and shoots you what he knows is a charming grin. “Tourin’ Ireland, are ya?” He asks, making his accent slightly thicker. “Passin’ through, or will ya be stayin’ awhile?”

“Actually, I - my grandma had a cottage down the road. Fairy Lodge? She left it to me after she recently died and I needed to get away so I came to check on the house.” You explain.

William nods, “oh that tiny little place on the corner? I remember the old lady who owned it.” He nods, “sweet old gal.” He takes the pint from the bartender and comes over, sitting down opposite you. “How long you plannin’ on being here?” He asks you and you shrug, “not sure. I can work remotely so I’ll probably be here a couple of weeks before I head home. I’m going to put the home on the market. I won’t be able to get out here to maintain the home so I think I’ll sell it.” You confess, setting your mug down.

“Oh, you should stay awhile for sure.” William advises. “Make sure the land doesn’t grow on you.” He has to admit, having a younger, attractive woman in the village would be a good thing. But he also doesn’t want the home sold to someone who would not respect the land, or the people. He can’t imagine your granny raising anyone who would disrespect the lady she had adopted as her own. “Besides, ye can always ask your neighbor to check on things. We take care of each other ‘round here.”

You offer him a soft smile, “yeah…except for ‘fucking Americans’” You scoff softly as you quote his companion.

William shakes his head, “ignore Tovar. He’s a grumpy fucker.”

You tap your fingers against the mug, “well, he clearly doesn’t like Americans so maybe it’s best that I sell up.” You hum and William sighs, “well, see how ya feel. You might turn out to love it here. I know I do. I served in Iraq and all I wanted to do was come home.” He confesses and you smile again, “it is a beautiful place. I’ll see how things go.”

He nods, reaching for the beer that has been put in front of him. “Well, if you’re needing anything, I’m at the Garin farm. Ask anyone and they’ll point you in my direction.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” You offer William a smile and he makes his way back over to his friends. You settle in to continue reading your book and you thank the landlady for your meal as she brings it over to you. You eat and thankfully the rain has stopped when you decide to make your way back to Fairy Lodge. Tomorrow, you’ll get some groceries but for now, you’re exhausted. You quickly get ready for bed and settle in, falling asleep within minutes.

The next morning, Pero grumbles to himself as he walks up the lane towards the village. Needing some groceries, he wants to see if old man Sawyer had gotten in those wines that he had asked for. It was hard to make some of his dishes without the Spanish wines and he was looking forward to getting them.

You carry your basket around the small grocery store and you gasp when you walk around the corner to see the asshole from last night nearly walk into you again. "Do you make a habit of walking into people?" He growls and you huff, "only rude bastards who don't notice anyone in their peripheral." You hiss back, stomach twisting with annoyance at the man.

He purses his lips at you and narrows his eyes. “What’s an American like you doing in a grocery store like this?” He demands, annoyed that your mere presence makes him feel guilty for yesterday and it just irritates him more. “They don’t have all the fancy shit you would want here. Best go to Dublin and take your demanding, childish ways with you.”

You narrow your eyes and grip the basket in your hand a little tighter. "Listen, I don't know what the fuck I did to you yesterday that makes you act like a rude prick but I accidentally spilled my coffee over you and you act like I just pissed in your cornflakes. I am here because my grandma left me her house so you'll be seeing more of me around the village. Get used to it, asshole." You growl, spinning on your heel to find the ground coffee.

The news that you will be here even longer than he would like puts Pero in a mood. “Hijo de puta.” He spits, his own basket handle nearly broken as he grips it tight in his fist. The last thing he needs is some stuck up, American bitch hanging around and causing trouble. Old man Sawyer comes into view and he stomps over to him to see if the wine came in.

You don’t notice the man has left when you go to pay for your groceries and the old man starts to ring everything up. “I noticed there’s a bit of tension between you and Tovar.” He says softly and looks up at you. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in a small town - the gossiping and everyone knowing each other - but you sigh, holding your wallet. “I accidentally spilled my coffee over him in the pub last night and he seems to hate me without even knowing my name.” You huff, “I’m not the kind of woman that’s gonna bow over and beg for forgiveness when I already apologized.” You explain and Sawyer nods, “he’s a grumpy git. He, uh, has had a lot going on from what I have heard.” You snort, “haven’t we all? Still not enough of a reason for him to be a prick.” You say and Sawyer chuckles, “you’re fiery. You’ll fit in just fine around here.” He winks and hands you your change. “Thanks.” You say and make your way back to Fairy Lodge, wondering what happened to make Tovar such an asshole.

Pero is passing by the gate to William’s house, his own groceries in a bag on his arm and lost in his thoughts when his friend calls out to him. “Missed a bit of gossip after pouting off into the night.” He looks over at where William is pushing his best sheep, Nell, out of the way and walking towards the stone wall. He rolls his eyes.

“What, did she manage to spill a beer on you?” He huffs, smirking slightly in amusement at the idea.

“No, but she did tell me that she’s going to be in town.”

His smirk slides away and he scowls. “Sí, I know that.” He grumbles, sighing as he walks off the road and towards the wall to talk. The lane was narrow and lorries love to careen around the corners recklessly.

“How did you find out?” William is grinning, about to tease Pero for being interested in the American. “She nearly ran me over in Sawyer’s.” He snorts. “Woman - women - are menaces. Especially stuck-up, American bitches.”

“Now mate, you and I both know that’s not fair. She’s not your ex wife.” William shakes his head, “not all Americans are stuck up bitches…or cheaters.” He raises his eyebrows at his Spanish friend who came to him years ago after finding his wife in bed with their neighbor. “Besides, you always told me you wanted to move from Seville. Said you felt trapped. So you came here to bother my ass.”

“I can always kill you so you aren’t bothered anymore.” Pero threatens, only making William laugh. He knows the Spaniard won’t actually kill him and therein lies the problem. They had been in the military together, serving on the same military bases in Iraq and somehow had become friends. Or as close to friends as Pero could have. Knowing the Irishman wouldn’t pity him like so many he had known would, he had decided to sulk in the Irishman’s home village and ended up staying. “She’s just like her.” He predicts. “All pretty smiles and batting eyelashes to get her way and then she shoves the knife in your ribs. She’ll sell the cottage to some developer who will want to put some god awful monstrosity where her granny’s cottage is. Only hope it's far away from my own.”

William snorts, “she doesn’t seem money hungry to me, mate. She’s not like her. From what you’ve told me, she was charming and drew you in with a fake personality. This one seems real. She doesn’t seem to be faking anything.” William observes, “she’s not your ex wife. She just happens to be American.”

Pero rolls his eyes, knowing that William won’t understand. He’s not been betrayed like he has and had his heart ripped out. Even more to find that the baby she had just told him about wasn’t his. She had just been planning on using him. “I’ve got better things to do than to argue with you, amigo.” He grumbles, pushing away from the wall and walking towards the road.

“All I’m saying is to just give her a chance.” William shouts at Pero’s retreating form and he sighs, looking down at Nell. “He really is a stubborn bastard.”

****

You decide to spend the day in the cottage, checking out things that your grandma left here and cleaning it up. You look through the photos she left there of your family. You haven’t seen her for years but she had an album of photos your parents must have sent her over the years. You caress the book, wishing you’d known her more and you wonder why she left you the cottage. She didn’t even leave you a note in her will when you got the keys.

There’s movement in the Fairy Cottage. Pero had noticed it when he was moving some more kindling under the lean-to on the back of the cottage. The sweet older lady that had lived there had been an American, but he hadn’t held it against the feisty old woman. A light comes on and he narrows his eyes in anger. People need to respect that a house is empty without molesting it. He grabs the crowbar he had been pulling old boards off the interior walls to redo. Ready to go confront the thief and make sure they don’t walk away with anything.

You hear the back door open with a creak and you inhale sharply, unable to believe that someone is breaking into the tiny cottage in the tiny village that you believed was as safe as could be. Everyone knows each other for fucks sake. You pick up the nearest thing - a book - and make your way down the stairs to confront the invader. When you get to the bottom step, you see the shadow and throw the book, a scream escaping your lips.

Pero curses when the book comes out of nowhere and hits him on the head. Turning and swinging the crowbar threateningly. “You had better make your peace with God if you think you are stealing anything from this house!” He shouts, lunging forward to grab the criminal who has broken into the cottage. “Got you!”

You scream as he grabs the back of your sweater and you try to hit him. “Get the fuck off of me!” You tell, slapping anywhere you can reach. “Get off!”

He drops the crowbar just as soon as he hears that accent, immediately aware that he has a woman and despite everything, he couldn’t hurt one. “Ow! Ow!” He yelps, throwing his arm up to block the jarringly accurate slaps as they strike his skin. “Stop your hitting, woman!” He growls, finally grabbing your arm so you can stop slapping his face.

You can’t believe it’s him. “Oh my God, it’s you. You bastard!” You growl, trying to wrench your arm from his grip. “What the hell are you breaking into my cottage?” You demand to know, “what the fuck, Tovar?”

He would be surprised you know his name, but that bastard William has a big mouth. “Your cottage?” He shakes his head. “I didn’t know it was your cottage. The old gal that lived here died just two months….” He trails off, remembering you had said you inherited a cottage from your grandmother. That sweet old woman was your granny? He lets go of your arm and grunts. “Thought you were a thief.” He tells you. “Wanted to run them off before they could steal anything.”

You are slightly touched that he’d put himself in danger to protect your grandmother’s cottage but you are also annoyed that he broke in without any warning. “Well, it’s just me. Although I’m surprised you didn’t take the opportunity to whack me.” You scoff as he lets go of your arm and you reach up to rub it.

He snorts, bending down to pick up the crowbar and glares at you. Hating that it was you that he had run into again. No doubt you will be telling everyone what a fool he is, or perhaps calling the police on him for entering your cottage. “Might should have.” He grunts at you. “How do I know you even own this property?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at you again. “Wouldn’t be the first con artist American I’ve run into.”

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. “Wow. You’re a grade A prick.” You scoff, “my grandma left it for me and you - I don’t have to explain anything to you.” You huff, staring at him and you get a proper look at him for the first time. He’s handsome, even with that scar on his eye, and you hate that he’s handsome. “Did you, uh, did you know my grandma well?” You ask softly after a moment. The curiosity gets the better of you.

Pero stares at you for a moment before nodding. “I fixed her roof the first year she was here.” He tells you. “Delivered her peat moss to burn and made sure that she was okay when bad weather rolled in.” He rocks his jaw, having to admit to himself that he could see the family resemblance and thinks that he had seen a picture of you when you were younger. “I-” he swallows. “I’m the one who- who found her.” Sadness fills his eyes as he remembers that day. At least she had passed peacefully in her sleep.

You inhale sharply, tears stinging in your eyes for the grandmother you didn’t get to know properly. “I- I hadn’t seen her since I was ten. My parents divorced and my mom…she didn’t let my dad take me to see her when she moved here. I- I wish I could’ve known her better.” You sigh, stepping back from Tovar. “Anyway…you must be sick of me by now. The ironic thing is you don’t even know my name.”

Pero recalls the stories she had told him about her family, producing your name with an ease that startled him. “She talked about you.” He tells you. “Never stopped loving you and talking about when you were young.” The least he can do is not let you think the old woman didn’t care about you. “Maybe that’s why she left you the cottage.” He offers.

You nod, biting your lip as tears sting in your eyes when you think about your grandmother. “Thanks for telling me that.” You say, sniffing as you try to not cry. “I - I appreciate it. Do you, uh, I really am sorry about spilling my coffee over you.”

He can’t snap at you when your eyes are watering and you look like you are about to cry. “Don’t worry about it.” He tells you. “I’m sorry for breaking into your cottage.” He tells you as he shuffles uncomfortably. He’s never been good at apologies, but he owes you that. “I’ll leave you to your day then.” He tells you.

You nod, uncrossing your arms as you escort Pero to the back door. “That - I’ll fix that.” You say, not even sure of where to start to fix the door he had broken when trying to protect the cottage from faux thieves.

Shaking his head, he opens the door and bends down to examine it. “I’ll have the door fixed in an hour.” He tells you. “Need to go get some things from my tool shed and I’ll have it sturdier than it’s ever been.” He looks up and shrugs. “My fault anyway.”

You accept his offer, knowing you won’t be able to fix the door, especially not tonight, so you let him go grab his tool box and when he comes back, you’re preparing some tea. “You want some tea?” You ask, knowing the nights are turning colder here.

“Do you know how to make it?” He asks seriously. “American tea is very sweet….and cold.” He grimaces, remembering when his ex would try to make tea and he had to drink it in order to make her happy. He had hated it.

You chuckle, “I can make hot tea. Iced tea is for hot days. Or I can make some coffee?” You offer, not sure what he wants and you wonder when he had iced tea. It’s not something you’ve encountered so far in Ireland.

“Hot tea.” Pero nods. “I don’t understand how someone drinks tea that is thick like syrup.” He chuckles and then thinks to add, “thank you. I’ll get your door fixed, I’ve got another one that will fit.” He promises, opening the door and examining the frame. He had been about to replace his own door but he could always go get another one.

You nod, getting to work on boiling the water on the stove. Your hatred of Pero fades a little since you’ve managed to talk to him and you still don’t understand his apparent dislike of anyone and anything American. When he comes back, you are a little chilly and you pour the brewed tea. “Do you like milk or no?” You ask, wondering how the Spaniard likes his tea.

His nose curls and he shakes his head. “No milk.” He insists. “I cannot have it.” His sensitive stomach was something that made William laugh but milk curdled on him. It was not pleasant and he didn’t want to risk it. “Please.” He adds when he remembers that manners are important to Americans.

You nod, setting the cup of tea down on the kitchen counter for him. "It's not poisoned." You tease, "although it was tempting." Tovar scoffs and picks up the cup, taking a sip. "So...what brought you to Ireland?" You ask, curious and nosey despite knowing you risk him shutting down on you.

“My friend.” He shrugs, looking down at the cup and then back up at you. “You can actually make a cup of tea that's not shit.” He grunts, knowing that is a compliment from him. “He lived here and I wanted a change so I came and decided to stay.”

You don't push him, sensing there's more to it and you don't want to risk your newfound ceasefire. "Fair enough. I wanted a change too." You confess and lean against the counter with your cup. "I got tired of the hustle bustle living in the city...it was exhausting."

“You won’t find that here.” Pero promises, pulling his hammer out to start prying the broken piece of wood off the frame. “Unless you count when Garvin’s sheep get out and run amok in your vegetable garden.” He snorts. “Nell, his favorite, never fails to end up walking into the pub like she’s gonna order a pint.”

You chuckle, "she sounds like a riot." Pero snorts, "a handful." You watch him work, his broad back muscles moving and you bite your lip, suddenly attracted to him. He's been an asshole but you think he's sexy in a mysterious asshole way. "You like it here." You observe, a statement more than a question.

“It’s quiet.” He shrugs slightly, not willing to admit that he’s found more peace here than he had when he returned to his ‘home’ in Spain. “I like quiet. Most are bored to death by it, but there's a tranquility in a slower pace of life.”

"Sounds like a little piece of heaven." You sigh, cradling the cup of tea in your palms. "Quiet is underrated. People want to live fast but I want to stop and smell the roses...take my time with life. Sorry...too many goddamn cliches." You scoff at yourself.

“People say that, but then they get pissed when there’s no new clubs to go to or activities that aren’t for ‘old people’.” He rolls his eyes and grunts as he measures the wood. “I should go get a piece to replace this and grab that door.”

You nod, “sure.” You don’t question him anymore or ask anymore questions, deciding to focus on starting a fire to ward off the chilly fall air especially since the door is open. You’re bending over the fireplace when Pero comes back in but you don’t hear him as you remain bent over as you poke the kindling.

Pero frowns, watching you poke at the fire. “You-” He huffs and sets the wood down and walks over to the fireplace. “You’re smothering the fire.” He tells you, taking the poker out of your hand. “It’s not like a wood fire. Peat is finicky, but it burns longer.”

You want to roll your eyes at him as he tries to tell you how to start the fire. Tired of men explaining shit to you at work, you stand up and let him take over with a huff. “I know how to start a fire. Did it enough times back home. God, you really can’t let people make mistakes, can you?” You ask, confused about why he’s so critical all the time.

Pero snorts and shakes his head. “If you want your cottage to be full of smoke, be my guest.” He snarks back at you, waiting to see if you will take over again. When you don’t, he kneels down and reaches into the fireplace. Pulling out the kindling and the hunks of peat to restack them and pulling his lighter out of his pocket.

You watch him with intrigue, noticing his strong jawline as he clenches his jaw in concentration. You observe what he does and you take notes for when you start another fire. The hearth is soon full of warmth and Tovar stands up, wiping his hands on his pants. “Thank you.” You tell him, placing your hand on his arm, “sorry I- I’m not good at not being good at things.” You admit softly.

“Don’t worry about it.” He huffs out a small laugh. “Took your grandmother nearly a month of freezing to accept my offer to help her with the chimney.” He has to admit that you seem like you are self-sufficient. Strong-willed.

You chuckle, “she was stubborn. My dad got that from her. Guess I did too.” You sigh and bite your lip as you lower your hand from his arm. “It’s too damn cold to mess around being that stubborn.” You confess, “even I can admit that.”

“Well, the new door will keep out the wind better and with a good peat fire, your cottage will be nice and cozy.” He promises. “Irish winters aren’t warm, but there is a beauty to them.”

“So I’ve heard. I’m not sure if I’ll be here long enough to see its full beauty. I haven’t decided what I’m gonna do.” You confess and cross your arms, watching as Tovar continues working on the door. “You’re from Spain?” You guess from his accent.

“Sí.” He frowns as he fits the wood in and marks it with the pencil he tucked behind his ear to trim a small sliver off. He grabs his hacksaw and looks up at you. “Seville originally.”

“I’ve never been to Spain. I’ve heard it’s gorgeous. And I think they used Seville for some Game of Thrones locations. There’s so many places I haven’t been that I want to go to.” You sigh, leaning back against the counter. “You must’ve been a lot of places, having such easy access to Europe.”

“It is not hard to travel.” He admits. “But your country is larger than all of Europe combined.” He had been amazed when he had come over to meet his ex’s family. “The flights are short if you want to go on a holiday.”

You shrug, “and expensive as hell. Two hundred bucks average for a flight to another state and nothing as old as what Europe has to offer. I am thinking I might travel to Germany or Austria. Check out the Christmas markets.” You admit, “I miss home but I needed a change.”

“Sounds like more than an inherited house brings you over the pond.” Pero finishes cutting the piece and fits it back into the frame, grunting happily when it fits snugly. He nails it in place as he waits for you to answer him.

You sigh, “I wasn’t happy. I was working twelve hour days. Going on endless first and second dates but couldn’t find a man ready to commit. I was working hard to pay my rent but had nothing left to enjoy myself and I- I got sick of the rat race. I needed to leave the city before it killed me. That kind of life…it gets to you eventually. The loneliness.” You mutter, glancing over at the fire.

He snorts, having no problem being alone himself, but that was after the betrayal. Before then, he had imagined spending the rest of his life with his ex. “If you're alone, only you can disappoint yourself.” He tells you, knocking the last nail in place and starting to take the door off the hinges.

You sense there’s more to his words than he’s letting on but you ignore it, sipping your tea while he works on the door. It doesn’t take him long to get the new one swinging and he adjusts the lock. “There you go, señorita. A new door.” He announces and you snort, “least you could do since you’re the one who tore it off its hinges.”

“It was a shit door.” He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck before he bends down and picks up his tool box. “Next time I’ll knock to scare away potential thieves.” He tells you before he nods. “Thanks for the tea.” He murmurs before stepping out and closing the door behind him. He had lost a few hours of work fixing your door and now he needs to get back to it.

You huff as he shuts the door behind him, not even saying goodbye and you glance over at the fire. Just when you thought he could be a decent person to talk to, he shuts up again. “Whatever.” You mutter to yourself and get ready to settle in on the sofa to read before you go to bed. You’re not here to be friends with Tovar. You’re here to find yourself.

****

Over the next few days, Pero keeps busy. His home is still a work in progress, the addition done poorly so he’s having to redo a lot of it. Helping William out on his farm when he needs. Keeping busy and keeping his mind off the neighbor. Sure, he’s checked on the cottage when he’s outside or looking out those windows, but he doesn’t make any effort to speak to you again, knowing that you’re nothing but trouble.

Your days are filled with exploring the village and then working remotely in the afternoon. You’ve actually never felt so at peace. You don’t see Tovar, which is a blessing in disguise. The man still rubs you the wrong way but you find yourself thinking about those brown eyes…even when they are narrowed in hatred towards you. You close your laptop, glancing out at the beautiful sky. It’s cloudy today but still gorgeous so you decide to go for a walk, explore the area some more. After putting on your boots and coat, you lock up the cottage and get started on your exploration.

Pero grumbles at the sky, loading his truck to go help William with the roof of his barn. Wanting to get it done before the rains came again. He gets behind the wheel and starts down the road towards his farm. Traveling about a mile before he sees a figure walking along the wrong side of the road. He scoffs and shakes his head, knowing exactly who it is. Slowing down, he rolls down his window and sticks his head out. “You’re gonna get wet.” He shouts. “Go home.”

You turn your head to see Tovar and you shake your head, looking up at the sky. “Only woman to get wet around you in a while, huh?” You tease with a smirk and he huffs, gripping the steering wheel. “Fine. If you want to get rained on.” You nod, “all part of the experience.” You tell him, “the Irish way of life.”

Pero snorts. “Crazy Americans.” He huffs, handing his hand out the window as he drives past you. You’ll learn. Your coat isn’t enough for the rain that is coming and you will look like a drowned rat if you get caught out in it.

You are stubborn. Something your mother told you was just like your father. Much to her annoyance. You continue walking after Tovar drives off and the wind starts to pick up. You shiver, pulling your coat tighter around you and you look up at the sky as the rain clouds come in. "Bastard." You curse Tovar for being right as you decide to head back to the village.

The last piece of roofing was being nailed into place when the first splatters of rain hit Tovar’s back. “Mierda.” He hisses, glancing up and wincing when a droplet hits him in the eye.

“Good thing we finished. It’s gonna be a blustery one for sure.” William agrees, wiping his forehead and shoving his hammer back into his tool belt. “You should go home. The sheep will come back and file into their barn quickly and I’m gonna shower and build my fire up.” He tells his friend. “You should do the same.”

You shiver as the rain comes down and you struggle to get back to cottage. The wind is strong and pushing you back as you try to get back as the rain pelts at your face. You curse Tovar for being right. You wish you had gotten a ride.

The rain is coming down in sheets, making it nearly impossible to see in front of the truck as Pero makes his way back to his cottage. He has to admit that he had gotten busy and didn’t look for you like he had thought to. Surely you had turned back and was cozy and warm in your cottage. He believes that until he damn near hits you. Swerving and nearly running off the road to keep from killing you because you’re walking in the damn middle. Cursing, Pero slams out of the truck, instantly drenched by the downpour. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” He yells, running up and grabbing your arms.

Your teeth are chattering so hard you can barely speak as Tovar grabs you and drags you into his van. You shake so hard your vision is blurry as the windscreen wipers work overtime. He slams the door shut and drives towards the village, cursing that he's soaking wet and you know you're both going to get sick from this chill.

The heater in his little lorry barely works, but Tovar blasts it, pointing the vents towards you. “Idiot.” He hisses. “You should have your pants pulled down and your ass whipped until you cannot sit.” He wipes his face and presses the gas, needing to get you home and out of those soaked clothes. “I told you to go home, but you’re too fucking pig-headed to listen.”

Your teeth chatter but you manage to say “fu-fuck you. I- I was on the way home.” You tell him and place your hands closer to his air vents. You desperately want the heat to seep into your bones and you shiver as Tovar races to your cottage.

“You would have already been home if you had listened to me.” He reminds you, taking one hand off the wheel to start shrugging out of his coat. It’s damp, but it has to be warmer than what you have on. “Stubborn Americans who think they know it all.”

You gasp, inhaling the warm air from the heater. "Wha- what th- the hell is wrong with - why the fu- fuck do you hate Am- Americans?" You ask him, still shaking. You watch as he hands his coat to you. "Put this on." He growls and you don't argue, wrapping his coat around you.

Pero whips his van into the small spot that is closest to your cottage and hisses a curse as he jumps out to run around to your door. Knowing that he needs to get you inside as quickly as possible. Get a fire started and get you stripped out of those clothes. Yanking your door open, he drags you out of the seat and tries to shield you from the rain as much as possible. You are shaking violently and he knows you’re close to, if not already, hypothermic. “Inside.”

You nod, letting him take you inside. You didn’t lock the cottage - having heard from the villagers that nothing happens - so Pero shuffles you inside and immediately starts to strip off the coats. You should be embarrassed and angry that he’s stripping clothes off of you but you’re so freezing you don’t care. You shiver and he helps you out of your boots. “Wh-why are you doing this?” You ask, watching him as he leaves you in your soaking wet jeans to work on getting the fire going.

“You could die.” He spits, his hands working quick and steady as he stacks the peat and kindling to light. He needs to get you warm and dry as fast as he can. The damp chill could have you sick with pneumonia within a day if you aren’t careful. As soon as the tender starts to smoke, he turns towards you and unbuttons his flannel shirt. Body head is needed. Stomping off towards your bedroom, he strips the quilts and blankets off of it before coming back into the main room. “Can you take your clothes off, or do I need to do it?”

Your eyes widen at his broad chest as he comes back into the living room with the blankets. You nod, teeth still shattering as you work on removing your wet clothes until you are in your underwear, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Sur-surprised you - you care so much.” You choke out, still freezing cold.

He grunts, rolling his eyes and nearly tells you that he doesn’t care but that wouldn’t be truthful. He doesn’t want to find another member of your family dead. He spreads a blanket on the floor in front of the fire and pushes you towards it. “Lay down.” He orders, immediately starting to strip off the rest of his clothes, including his underwear. He knows you might be prudish like most Americans, but when you are trying to warm up, you can't wear any wet clothes and your panties look soaked. He ignores your gasp and drops to his knees, gathering the rest of the blankets at his back and reaches for your panties, pulling at them to take them off and they shred apart in his hands.

You gasp, knowing you should push him away but when he pulls you close, into his body, into his warmth, you shudder and inhale deeply. Feeling the sensations come back into your body as you give in and curl around him. Breathing him in, you lift your leg over his, trying to get even closer to him, seeking his warmth.

His hands start rubbing, massaging heat and feeling back into your body. He thinks about anything but the softness of your breasts pressed against him. Knowing that if it weren’t for this serious situation, you would not be naked in his arms. “You’ll get warm.” He promises, feeling you shake and your teeth chatter. Your body is like ice and he shudders slightly as he transfers his heat to you under the weight of the blankets.

You breathe him in, thankful for him showing up to save you even if you’ve not gotten along so far. His hands rubbing all over your back and you eventually relax, the shivering stopping as you warm up. You kiss his chest, silently thanking him for finding you even if you can’t vocalize that right now as you curl around him, seeking his warmth.

He knows you will get sleepy, it’s your body’s way to try to recover from the energy it had expelled to try to keep you warm. “Go to sleep, espléndida.” He murmurs quietly. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe.” He knows that he can’t pull away right now. Even though you are warmer, you still need more of his body heat to fully warm up.

You mumble into his chest, listening to his beating heart as you fall asleep in his grip, feeling safe despite the man curled around you being insufferable in every interaction you’ve had. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been asleep when you wake up alone, the blankets wrapped around you, the fire roaring and you hear noise coming from the tiny kitchen. “What - Tovar?” You croak, wondering where he went.

His boxers on his hips, Pero appears in the doorway as soon as you call him. “Wait.” He orders, not wanting you to get up. Disappearing again and within seconds, he is coming back into the room with a tray. It was one your grandmother had often served him tea on, so he was familiar with it. Your cup of tea is in addition to a mug of soup. You need something warm in you. The hearty stew was one that your grandmother had canned two years ago, so he knew the rich broth would be good.

You sit up, keeping the blanket tight to your chest as he carries the tray over and he has his boxers on. Shit, he’s attractive. More than that…he’s hot. Really hot. You swallow harshly, throat dry as he sets the tray down in front of you. “Thank you.” You tell him, looking at him as he sits down next to you. “This is - you poison it?” You tease softly, voice a little raw from the cold wind you breathed in earlier.

He snorts and shakes his head. “Not poisoned.” He huffs. “I just saved your life, why would I poison you?” He asks, picking up the tea and handing it to you. “It’s got honey and lemon in it, your throat will be raw.” He murmurs, blowing on the steaming liquid slightly before he hands it off.

You take it, your fingers brushing his, and you moan softly as the tea soothes your sore throat. “I- I don’t really know how to start saying thank you for saving my life. I would’ve frozen out there. I didn’t think the storm would come in so quick.” You confess, watching him as the flames and shadows flicker over his face. “I guess I can start by saying thank you.” You say after taking another sip.

“You’re welcome.” Pero is slightly surprised that there’s no sarcasm in your statement. “Almost ran to my house to get some whiskey to pour in it, but it’s still raining outside.” He tells you, the rain beating against the windows. “So, it’s not quite as good as it could be. But I made you some stew.”

You set the tea down and pick up the mug of broth, taking a sip and you groan. “You made this?” You ask and he shakes his head. “Your grandmother. She made it. Canned it a couple of years ago. She gave me some jars.” He reveals and your eyes widen as you look down at the cup in your hands, “I wish I could’ve known her better.” You sigh, “she seemed like a great woman. I- I’m writing a book about her. That’s why I came here. She fell in love with Ireland and I’m writing a romance novel based on her life.” You confess, “her grand escape to Ireland after divorcing her husband.”

He’s surprised by that, lifting his brows and humming. “A romance?” He should scoff, but he can’t manage the sound to come out of his throat. “I guess Ireland would be a romantic place to escape. If you’re looking for that.”

You sip your broth before you look at him. “I must admit I had my wild fantasies dreaming about meeting a handsome man in Ireland and shacking up in a cottage to love our lives away but I- I know that’s - it’s silly.” You shake your head, “especially when I literally bumped into you and you hate Americans.”

“You would hate Spaniards if your ex was one.” Pero tells you. “Especially if he had cheated on you. Even though he would be an idiot to cheat.”

You frown, setting the broth mug down. “You think…your ex was American?” You ask, confused and curious. “And she - shit - she cheated on you?”

Pero sighs, looking out the window. “Sí.” He murmurs. “We were- I met her when we were both stationed on the same base in Iraq. She was with the Americans, I was with …anyway,” he shakes his head. “We got married. She was pregnant. They made her leave her military position and we went to Spain.” He blows out a sigh. “And I found out later that she was cheating on me and the baby wasn’t even mine.”

You inhale sharply, “shit. I- I'm so sorry. That's - Wow. What a shitty thing to do. It’s - that’s monstrous. I’m so sorry Tovar-” You ramble and he cuts you off. “Pero. My first name is Pero.” He says and you nod, “Pero.” You say softly, “I’m sorry that happened to you. No one deserves that. Is that why…why you hate me? Because of my accent? My homeland?”

“She was just as stubborn as you are. Always right and having to have her way.” He shrugs. “I guess that I just don’t like women right now.” He admits after a moment. “I gave my heart to that woman and she tried to pass off the proof of her infidelity as my child.” He growls.

You shake your head, shifting closer to him to reach for his hand. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Pero. No one deserves that. I - I can understand why I triggered that anger in you. That’s unforgivable and I’m sorry someone did that to you.”

That bastard William had told him that you weren’t his ex. Pero rubs his cheek. “It’s not your fault.” He admits quietly. “You aren’t her and I shouldn’t have been an asshole to you,”

You sigh, letting go of his hand, “and I shouldn’t have been a bitch but I’ve never been good at people not giving me a chance.” You confess and sip your tea. “Can we start again?” You ask and he stares at you so you set your cup down, holding out your name. You introduce yourself, “and you are?” You ask, offering him a playful smile.

He grunts, watching you for a moment. “Pero Tovar.” He tells you. “Grumpy asshole from Spain.”

You chuckle, “great to meet you, grumpy asshole from Spain who saved my life.” You add and he shakes your hand. You stare at him, your smile fading as his grip on your hand is tight, reluctant to let go. You keep holding his hand, your eyes searching his as you keep the blankets close to your chest to keep you covered up until you let it drop, exposing your skin to his eyes.

Pero’s eyes widen and drop down to your breasts for a moment before he jerks his gaze back up to your face. “Hermosa….” He grunts, confused as to why you are showing him your body. “You don’t owe me anything.” He promises.

You nod, "I know. I- I'm not saying thank you. Well, I am. But not like that. I - I think you're handsome." You confess, "...sexy." You add and he frowns softly. "If you don't..." You trail off and reach to pull the blankets up your body, standing up on shaky legs. "Do you want a drink? I think my grandma had a bottle of brandy." You make your way into the kitchen, blanket wrapped around your body.

He thinks he’s embarrassed you and he doesn’t want that. He can’t deny you’re beautiful and he had been fighting an erection the entire time you were asleep once you were warm. Standing up, Pero pulls off his boxers and follows you into the kitchen to find you standing at your grandmother’s drink cabinet. “Do you want me to touch you, hermosa?” He asks, bracing his arms on the counter and trapping you against it, his lips close to your ear. “You are a beautiful woman, and I would enjoy finding out what makes you shake in pleasure.”

You whimper, unable to control the shiver that runs along your spine as he hovers behind you. You want him to touch you. He's been a bastard but you would be dead if it weren't for him. You understand now why he was antagonized by you and you forgive him for his barbs. You lean back against him after letting the blanket drop from your body. "I want you to touch me." You whisper, turning your head to look at him, your lips brushing his chin.

“I’m not gentle.” He warns, knowing that it’s been too long since he has touched anyone and he’s not a suave lover like Garin claims to be. He slides his hand up to grab your breast and squeezes the flesh.

“I don’t need gentle. I don’t want gentle.” You tell him, covering his hand over your breast and you squeeze a little harder. “I want you.” You add, kissing his jaw.

Pero growls, his hardening cock pressing against your ass. “Drop the blanket.” He orders, pulling you away from the counter and dragging you towards the main room. If he’s going to touch you, it will be in front of that fire so you stay warm.

You follow his order, nearly tripping over the blanket as he guides you into the living room and you whimper as he lays you down on the blankets you still have piled near the fire. You lay down, waiting for him to touch you as he kneels down near you. “Pero.” You whisper, biting your lip as you wait for him to make the first move.

He watches you for a moment before he lunges forward, his lips smashing against yours in a hard kiss. Covering your body with his and pushing your thighs apart with his knee to settle between them. Groaning into your mouth at the taste of you as his hands fill themselves with your breasts and hips.

You moan into his mouth, your hands caressing his back as he kneels over you, his hands squeezing your flesh. His tongue slides into your mouth and you eagerly grant him access with a low groan of his name muffled against your lips. Your hands slide down to his ass, squeezing and bringing him closer so his cock is pressing against your thigh.

Pero rocks against your thigh, groaning and pinching your nipple harshly. Kissing down your throat and biting down on your shoulder before he ducks his head and sucks your nipple into his mouth to bite.

"Fuck." You hiss in pleasure as he grinds against you and sucks on your nipple, paying it attention until you are swapping over to suck on the neglected one. "Shit baby." You pant, reaching between you to wrap your fingers around his thick cock.

Pero groans at the feel of your hand. It’s been so long since he’s felt any touch but his own. His cock twitches and his hips buck into your grip. He lavishes attention on you, loving the way you moan.

You twist your arm, trying to jerk him off as he surrounds you, the spicy scent of his skin combined with the smoke from the fire he started. Your free hand slides through his hair as he kisses the skin below your breast and you whimper, getting wetter with each kiss.

Pero is a harsh lover, he bites and scratches and fucks hard, but he’s also attentive. He wants his partner to feel good. To drown in him. Scattering bites over your skin, he works his way south, nipping your hip bone. “When was the last time you were devoured, hermosa?” He demands, cutting his dark gaze back up to your face.

Your chest heaves as you look into his dark eyes, hungry with desire for you and you don't remember the last time you were devoured. You shake your head, "I- too long ago. My ex...he didn't - he didn't do that." You confess breathlessly.

Pero snorts, shaking his head at your worthless ex. “Then you will remember this.” He promises. His tongue slides around your hip bone, dragging across your stomach as he settles his broad shoulders between your thighs and pushes them up to rest there. Making a show of settling in to look down at you glistening cunt. “Such a pretty cunt too.” He smirks, looking up at you again as he lowers his mouth to your folds and winking right before he dives in.

"Shit!" You squeak, thighs clenching against his head in surprise as he licks into you like a man starved. "Pero." You gasp as he flattens his tongue against your clit until he decides to suck it between his lips. Your hands tangle in his hair as you slump back to look up at the wooden beams on the ceiling.

He loves eating a woman out. Loves her taste and the way she responds to his touch and effort to make her scream. His fingers slide around your entrance for a moment and then he buries two down to the knuckle and curls up inside you.

You cry out as his thick fingers curl inside of you. Making you moan his name loud enough for the entire village to hear as you buck your hips into his face. His free hand slides up to squeeze your breast and your hand covers his, eyes squeezed shut as he laps at your clit.

Groaning into your cunt, he samples you. Tastes you like you are the finest whiskey or his precious Spanish wines. Pumping his fingers inside you to find the spot that makes your body spasm in pleasure and growling when he finds it

"Fuck. Oh shit!" You hiss, walls fluttering around his digits as he curls them to find that spot that makes you moan. Your chest heaving as you tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing him further into your cunt. "So- yes. There. Cl-close." You pant, stomach clenching.

He growls, sucking your clit in his mouth and pulling on it harshly, before he twirls his tongue around it and starts to flick his tongue over the little bundle of nerves. Pumping his fingers into you faster and harder, wanting to see how hard you break.

You fall apart within seconds. “Oh my fuck - fuck!” You squeal as you clamp down on his fingers, soaking them as you cum for the first time in a long time. Nearly pulling his hair out as you cry out.

He snarls, lapping at you faster and pushing his fingers deeper when you start to cum. Feeling you soak his face as his cock throbs against the blanket on the floor. Working and pushing you through your orgasm with the determination of a man possessed.

He pushes you higher until you have to push his head away, overstimulated, and you feel like your body is on fire from his attentions. “Fuck, I- Pero. I need you.” You beg, “let me - I need you inside of me.”

He grunts, smirking as he crawls up your body. Aching to push inside you and feel those tight walls squeezing his cock like they had his fingers.

You grab the back of his neck when he’s hovering over you to drag him down to kiss him. Your tongue slides against his to taste yourself on his mouth. You reach down to grip his cock again, pumping him as you kiss him.

Pero groans your name into your mouth, almost like a plea. Rocking his hips into your hand and lowering down so you can guide him in. When you notch him at your entrance, he bites your bottom lip as he drills his cock deep into your wet cunt.

You moan into each other’s mouth as he pushes deep in one thrust, making you cling to him as he stretches you out. He’s thick and you are certain you’ll feel him tomorrow if he’s as rough as he claims to be. You wrap your legs around him, the blankets crumpling up beneath you as he starts to move.

Pero doesn’t hesitate. Bracing his hands on the floor beside you, he starts pounding into you at a rough, hard pace. Feeling your walls giving with every deep thrust as he drives himself into you over and over, groaning over how well you are taking him. “Mierda.”

He’s rough and takes what he wants but fuck, you love it. You whine, throwing your head back and he wastes no time leaning in to bite down on the skin above your pulse. Your walls clench around him every time he pushes deep and hits something devastating inside you that no one else has found. “Pero. Shit. Oh God. I- it’s so good.” You almost vibrate as you speak, shaken by his thrusts.

Hissing, he tries to hang onto his control. Feeling it slip as he continues to rock into you. You're so fucking good and it has been the best sex he's had in ....ever. Not even his ex felt like you do. Dropping down to his elbows, he shoves his hands under your back and starts biting along your shoulder, leaving imprints of his teeth with every piercing thrust of his cock.

Each bite on your skin has you clenching around him and you struggle to maintain control until you give in. Whines escape your lips as his pelvis drops into just the right position that he’s grinding against your clit and your heels dig into his ass. “I’m gonna - oh fuck. Pero. Pero!” You cry out, clamping down on his cock and practically shaking beneath him as you soak him with your orgasm.

The shout Pero lets out is hoarse and rough, pushing deep and grinding even deeper for a split second before he is ripping free of your cunt. Panting as he realized he had not spoken with you about birth control and he could not risk filling you up. Coating your belly, breasts and thighs with ropes of his hot seed as he spits out another curse.

You pant, watching him as he pumps his cock to paint you with every drop of seed that drips from his body. His chest heaving and you stare up at him in awe. He’s incredible and you know that all your previous fighting means nothing compared to this perfect moment of bliss. “You- you could’ve cum inside me. I’m on birth control.” You tell him breathlessly, knowing it’s too late now.

“Shit.” Pero hisses, huffing slightly and dropping his head against your shoulder. “I didn’t- we hadn’t- fuck.” He grumbles, rolling off to the side and onto his back to reach off his undershirt to wipe your skin clean.

You watch him clean you up and you turn onto your side to look at him, “it’s okay. Maybe next time you could…?” You trail off, biting your lip as you wait for his reaction. Unsure if there will be a next time.

Pero smirks and nods. “Next time.” He agrees, tossing the shirt off to the side and rubs a hand down your side. “How are you feeling?”

You hum, closing your eyes with a smile on your face. “Better. A lot better. I’m warm and satisfied and - thank you again for rescuing me.” You say as you open one eye to look at him, “you’re not too bad for a grumpy asshole.” You smirk, closing your eyes again.

He snorts, rolling his eyes and sighing, “you’re not bad.” He admits. “For an American.” He adds, smirking himself as he moves his arm and nudges you slightly, seeing if you want to curl against him.

You take the hint, shifting to curl into his side and he quickly pulls the blanket over you. You sigh, breathing him in and kiss his chest, exhausted again after his rigorous fucking. You’ve turned a corner with the Spaniard and you’re interested to see how things go from now on.

****

The sunlight starts to shine through the windows of the cottage, the gap in the curtains letting in light that makes you wince as you wake up. “Pero.” You murmur, shifting to sit up and you pat the space beside you only to find the man you fell asleep with is gone. You frown, calling his name again and when there’s no response, you huff. Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, you stand on shaky legs and head upstairs to get ready for the day. Perhaps he had an early start.

“You slipped out of the house like a thief?” William shakes his head and frowns at his friend. “Why would you do that? She deserves better.”

Pero huffs and rolls his eyes, shuffling guiltily as he looks up the road towards your cottage. “She’ll be going back to America.” He reminds the Irishman. “I don’t need to be getting myself involved in that mess.”

William snorts, eyeing Pero suspiciously. “I’ve never known you to turn down pleasure. A fling of some kind. Unless you like her more than you are admitting.” Pero scowls again and shuffles, not answering.

It’s been a couple of days since you’ve seen him, which is an accomplishment in the tiny village. You are in the grocery store when old man Sawyer tells you about the village fete. “It’s the harvest festival. In the church hall. There’ll be food and booze of course.” He winks and you chuckle, wondering if Pero would be there. It’s unlikely as he doesn’t like people. “Maybe I’ll see you there.” You tell the older man as you pay for your groceries. “See you there.” He says with a chuckle and you take your bags, pondering if you’ll go to the fete.

You decide later that you won’t hide away so you get dressed and make your way over to the church hall, shrugging off your coat once you’re inside and there’s music from the local band of teenagers and various tables with food and drinks. You immediately feel eager to mingle. That is until you look around to see Pero standing there with William, his dark eyes focused on you.

“Go talk to her.” William shoves at Pero’s arm, making him stumble.

Turning, he glares at his best friend. “Amigo….” He growls, warning him not to mess with him tonight. He’s been busy trying to avoid you and here you are, looking prettier than ever.

“If you don’t, someone else will.” William warns him.

You avert your eyes, pissed off he didn’t even come to see you after he slept with you. You walk over to the drinks table, greeting Gladys who lives down the road from you and she hands you a cup of hot cider. “How are you dearie?” She asks and you sigh, “confused.” You confess and she frowns, “what?” You shake your head, “I’m good, Gladys.” You tell her and she smiles at you, nodding until her gaze shifts to behind you. You turn your head to look and your eyes meet Pero’s. “Hi.” You murmur, fingers flexing around the cup.

Pero looks at you for a moment, studying the anger in your eyes and he feels guilty, guilty for avoiding you. “You’re still here.” That’s what he comes up with to answer you. Hating it the moment it comes out of his mouth, but he won’t take it back.

You stare at him for a second, “I’m still here.” You observe, glancing around the room until your eyes meet his again. “So…you've been busy?” You ask, a little sarcastic but you’ve never been known to be timid, especially when it comes to men who run away from your bed.

“Busy enough.” He grunts, not sure why he even came over. You don’t seem happy to see him at all, not that he can blame you. It’s not like he’s gone out of his way to check in after the other day. He had convinced himself that you still hated him, and had run with it.

You nod, "busy enough to not even stay for a cup of coffee?" You ask, raising your eyebrows at him, "or was it just pity? You felt sorry that I nearly froze to death and you decided to fuck me...or was it so you could brag to William? Tell him you tamed the bitch in Fairy Lodge?" You snort, keeping your eyes on his, refusing to look away.

Eyes widening, he glances over at Gladys to see if she is listening. Shame making his face burn, and in turn, pissing him off. “Nothing could tame you.” He snorts. “I’m not a magician.”

You chuckle, “clearly you are since you made yourself disappear.” You huff, taking a sip of the cider. “If you regretted it, you could’ve just come to see me and tell me that instead of leaving me to think I did something wrong or…or I wasn’t good enough.” You finish quietly.

The sound of your voice is what makes his anger deflate. “I- you’re leaving.” He murmurs quietly. “I - I’m not a casual lover. I don’t sleep around anymore.”

“I’m not gonna stick around and be treated like shit.” You snort, “I could go back to America and deal with American men if I wanted that.” You tell him, setting down the cup of cider just as the band starts to play.

Pero narrows his eyes, hating that you are comparing him to American men. He’s not a boy who plays games, but apparently that’s what he’s been doing with you. “Fine.” He grunts, grabbing your hand. “Let’s dance.”

You let him drag you onto the makeshift dance floor and there's a few elderly couples dancing but everyone has their eyes on you and Pero. "Everyone is looking at us." You murmur and he stares at you, not looking around.

"Let them." He says, pulling you closer and you don't push him away.

"You don't care?" You ask, keeping your eyes on him.

“Why would I?” He asks. “People stare because of my scar. They stare because I’m a mean looking bastard.” He shrugs, used to the looks. “Or they stare because I’m holding the prettiest girl here.”

You offer him a soft smile as he looks at you and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. "Your scar makes you look dangerous...and sexy. And you look grumpy...not mean. And you think you are not good enough but you are...and I- I wish you would let people in to see that." You finish, cutting your gaze across the room to see Gladys smiling at you and Pero dancing.

“I'm not the man you think I am.” Pero grumbles. “I have done a lot of shitty things, even to you.” He reminds you. He doesn’t want you to think he’s some white knight when he’s not.

You look at him again, “no one is perfect. Hell, you know I’m not. I know you’re not. But…but I think you are good deep down. You’re just hurt.” You murmur, “and I know why but I didn’t - we started off on the wrong foot. We were both mean to the other.”

“We should not fight.” Pero agrees, nodding. Even if he doesn’t feel like you know him enough to make that judgment, it’s nice to have someone besides William believe in him.

“I- I’m supposed to go back to America on Monday.” You tell him quietly, wondering if he will pack your bags for you to get you out of Ireland and away from him, from his mistake of rescuing you…sleeping with you.

“Oh.” Pero frowns and swallows harshly. Knowing that he’s wasted time that he could have been spending with you and quite possibly made this better than it had been. “Big plans back there?” He asks.

“Just work and…and I don’t have to go back. I can change my return flight…or cancel it…” You trail off, “unless you don’t want an American living here full time?” You test him, wondering what his reaction will be.

“You still don’t know how to make a fire worth a damn.” Pero tells you, watching your brows pull together in confusion. “It would be hard for you to learn over there. Bet you don’t even have a fireplace.”

You shake your head as he rocks you both to the beat. “I don’t. I wouldn’t be able to make a fire…I’d definitely forget. So…I think I need to stay to make sure I learn properly. Perhaps you could teach me?” You ask him quietly, preparing yourself for him to practically escort you back to the airport.

“It’ll take a long time.” He cautions, pulling you closer to him. “I’d probably need to check on the fires during the night. Make sure you don’t burn down your granny’s cottage.”

“What a gentleman.” You smile, tilting your head towards his, “I definitely think you’d need to check on them nightly. I don’t think anyone in the village wants a fire. So…it looks like I’m staying - for fire starting purposes only.” You tease, taking a chance to kiss his neck as you lean closer.

Pero groans at the light contact of your lips, turning his head and capturing your mouth in a kiss for everyone here to see. Not caring if they do and telling them all that he wants you. Claiming you in front of them so that there are no misconceptions about what he wants. You.

You cup his cheek, responding to the kiss, and you let everyone see that you are with him. The parishioners all stare and you smile against his mouth. “Come home with me.” You murmur when he pulls back but keeps his forehead against yours.

“Are you sure, hermosa?” He asks quietly, knowing that he had hurt you the last time he had slept with you.

You nod, “I’m sure. I want you to come home with me and show me how to start a fire.” You murmur, stopping as the song comes to an end and you let go of Pero to clap your hands, waiting for his answer.

Pero smirks, willing to take a risk with you when you are also taking a risk on him. Nodding, he motions towards your cottage. “Let’s go, I need to show you a lot of things if you’re going to live in Ireland.” He grunts. “Starting with how to properly leave a party.” It’s all the warning he gives you before he bends down, scooping you over his shoulder before marching off the dance floor with you like a medieval mercenary carrying off his kidnapped bride.

You squeal, giggling as he carries you out of the hall and you cling to him as he strides down the hall. “Where are we going?” You ask as you tilt your head and notice he’s not carrying you to your cottage. “My place.” He says and you are surprised but let him continue his journey, the wind whipping cool on your skin.

You've never been to his cottage, he's well aware of that. Marching down the road and not slowing down a bit. "Best place to start teaching you is where I am comfortable." He admits, slapping your ass. "Kept expecting your granny to come out and catch me with my ass showing."

You chuckle as he sets you down so he can unlock his door. You lean against the wall as he fumbles with his keys, “she definitely would’ve told you to put some pants on.” You tease and he finally opens the door, “and what’s my next lesson?” You inquire as he guides you inside and you see the masculine but cozy cottage he lives in.

He hadn't really thought much beyond taking you home. Getting you here. He hums, his own fire slowly smoldering and the inside of the cottage warm. "Temperature control." He decides. "What to do when it's too hot."

You smirk, licking your lips as you look at him, “and what do you do when it’s too hot.” He smirks back at you, “get naked.” You nod, slipping off your shoes and you work on the buttons of your dress. “I think that’s a smart idea.”

"It is." He grunts, taking off his jacket and then lifting his shirt over his head. "Getting too hot is just as bad as being too cold." He rolls his eyes towards you. "And you know how that feels."

You glare at him playfully and you shrug your dress off, letting it fall to the floor and you move to push your tights down but Pero scoops you into his arms. “I’m still hot.” You tell him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

"Yes, you are." He won't deny that, arms coming around you and sliding down your sides to your hips. "Your panties and bra are what's keeping you hot." He murmurs.

You giggle, “yes. They are.” You let him reach behind you to unclasp your bra as you caress his chest and you lean in to kiss his clavicle as he slides the bra down your arms. You squeal when he grabs your ass, lifting you over to his sofa and he lays you down on it. “Fuck. These need to go.” He growls, pushing your legs apart so he can grab the thin material of your pantyhose and he rips them, making you gasp and wet your panties in arousal.

"Oops." Pero snorts, not even slightly sorry about ripping your pantyhose. He never understands why women wear them, although he can understand under your dress since you are unused to the chill of the Irish weather. He grins and pulls them off your feed and tosses them aside. "Need to teach you to quit wearing that shit." He grunts. "Harder to get to you."

You giggle as he drags your panties down your legs and you spread your legs further apart once he tosses them over his shoulder to expose you to his hungry eyes. “Need to see you too.” You tell him, reaching down to unbuckle his belt.

"Yeah?" He lets you undo his belt, feeling like you want him and it's a thing to savor. It might be a fling, but the look in your eyes is telling him that he should trust that it will be more. "Taken with me?"

You scoff, “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, Tovar.” You tell him, working on unbuttoning his pants after you toss the belt aside. You reach into his pants to pull his hard cock out, groaning as you get to see him properly. “I want to suck you off.” You tell him, meeting those dark eyes.

"You don't have to do that." Every blow job he's had in the last few years has been begrudgingly given. Complaints about sore jaws or him always wanting head. He had stopped asking for them, stopped her from giving them if she tried to initiate and it's almost like a reflex. Nothing that can be held over his head, until he takes your wrist and realizes what he's doing. "Uh...my ex..." he bites his lips. "She would always complain about it. Or use it to guilt me into something."

You scoff, “she sounds…wow. Lay down.” You order, pushing on his chest and he nods, shifting to lay down on the sofa and you straddle him. “Too Goddamn sexy for your own good. Definitely for my good.” You chuckle, leaning down to kiss him. You slide your tongue against his until you are kissing along his jaw, down his neck, and down his stomach until you reach his cock resting against his stomach. “I want to give you a blowjob. I want to make you feel good. For nothing in return.” You promise and take him into your hand, squeezing him as you look into his eyes as you press your tongue against the slit, tasting his pre-cum.

"Shit." Pero hisses, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before he opens them again. Needing to see you touch him. To see how eagerly you want to touch him. It's not all Americans that are horrible, it was his ex. She was a bad apple. He reaches down and cups your cheek. "Fuck baby," he pants, "So fucking pretty and sweet."

You hum around him as you take him deeper. Loving the way he groans and reaches down to caress your cheek. You love the way his jaw clenches and his cock twitches inside of you as you widen your jaw to take more of his length until he’s hitting the back of your throat and you gag, unused to giving head to a long cock like his.

"Pull off, hermosa." He urges, pulling your cheek up but you shake your head and continue to bob up and down on him. Making him groan as he feels the exquisite bliss of your mouth around him.

You want to make him feel good, look after him like he did looking after you when you nearly froze to death. You moan around him, caressing his chest and you bob your head a little faster.

"Hermosa...." he groans, feeling you starting to pull his orgasm out of him and he doesn't want to cum yet. He wants to make sure that you cum first. "Ride me." He begs quietly, twitching in your throat at the thought.

You won’t deny him. You pull off of his cock, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and you straddle him. His cock pressing between your folds and you are soaking wet. You look down at him and his hands immediately find your tits. You lift up to position him at your entrance and you slowly sink down onto his cock.

"Mierda." He hisses, rocking his hips up to thrust up into you. Bouncing you slightly and sinking deeper into your tight cunt. "You are so pretty sitting on my cock."

“Not bad for an American?” You tease, starting to rock your hips on top of him. Your heart pounds in your chest as you look down at him and you know you couldn’t leave. Not with this unspoken thing between you. It’s not quite love but it feels like it could easily evolve into it. You lean down to kiss him, bracing your hands on the arm of the sofa behind his head.

He doesn't answer because he wouldn't even know how to answer. It's not because you are an American, but because you are just you. His hands slide up your sides and he holds the back of your head, deepening the kiss as you start to slide your tongue against his.

You rock back onto his cock, your tongue sliding against his and your hands tangle in his hair, moaning into his mouth as you find an angle that makes the head of his cock rub against your g-spot.

“Shiiiiiiiit.” His moan is muffled and he throbs inside you. Loving how you clench down around him and he squeezes your hip with his free hand.

You moan into his mouth, rocking back onto him and he slips out of you. You whine at the loss of pleasure but he reaches down to push himself back into you and you swivel your hips to find the same angle. You soon find it and rock back onto him, getting closer and closer to cumming.

“That’s it, hermosa.” He grunts out, leaning in to bite your shoulder. He lets go of your head, reaching down to start rubbing your clit. Wanting you to cum for him before he spills inside of you,

You whine when his fingers rub your clit just right and you are close. Grinding back onto his cock, trapping his hand between you, you get closer and closer until you cry out his name. “Fuck!” You choke, clamping down on his cock as you soak him with your orgasm.

"Perfecto." He groans, rocking his hips up and driving his cock deeper into you as he takes over. Letting you collapse against his chest as he wraps both arms around you and fucks you through, chasing his own orgasm. Panting out your name as he thrusts one last time, burying his cock deep as he paints your walls with his cum.

You whimper, kissing his jaw as he pants into your ear. “Cum for me, Pero. Cum. Wan- wanna feel it.” You beg, grinding back to try and egg him on as his cock twitches inside of you.

You moan, loving how it feels to have him paint your walls with his hot seed, silently thanking your IUD as he pulses deep. You kiss along his jaw, “feels so good.” You pant, relaxing on top of him.

"Stay." He murmurs, panting as he tries to catch his breath. "I want you to stay, hermosa." He presses his lips to yours again. "I want to be grumpy to everyone else. Not you."

You nod, pressing your lips to his again. “I’ll stay. All you had to do was ask. I’ll stay and I want to see where this goes.” You tell him, kissing his chin. “You’re a grumpy bastard but you’re my grumpy bastard.” You tease, caressing his cheek. You never imagined you’d come to Ireland and find the man you spend the rest of your life with but you have and you don’t know it yet but you have a beautiful life ahead of you with Pero in Fairy Lodge.

#pedro pascal #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar smut #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar imagine #pero tovar fic #modern pero tovar #modern au

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misdeliria · 1 year

Text

for all the hoes (respectful) that wanted part 2 and were so patient. I was stressed about the pressure to make it perfect but hopefully it's good enough. lol

fyi: cursing | @sarahlovesseb ily 💗

part 2 of cupid's chokehold -> bkg's turn to confess

Fight or Flight (1.7k)

Recent News: Favorite Crime-Fighting Duo Hiding Secret Relationship?

Usually, Katsuki wouldn't glance twice at the tabloids, but when his face is plastered everywhere with a dreamy expression directed at your figure, he's become a ticking time bomb.

The photo is taken entirely out of context, he convinces himself. His brain is firing on all cylinders to figure out what was going through his mind during that interview, but all that comes up is how impressed he was after the fight. All he remembers is how impressive you were.

"It's not that big of a deal," you assure him with a playful tone and a smile. You're looking over a magazine cover that showcases the pair of you, your legs kicked up on his desk as you sit in the adjacent seat. "I think we look damn good together."

Katsuki just glares at you as he silently agrees. He's silent as he ponders the meaning behind your words. It's been months since your confession, and any tension or awkwardness has dissipated and has become long-forgotten.

"Everyone should mind their own business," he mumbles, knocking your feet off his desk and swiping the magazine out of your hand. He tosses it in his drawer and slams it shut for good measure. When he looks back at you, you're smug and crossing your leg over the other.

"When were you going to tell me we were in a secret relationship?" Irritation builds in Katsuki's chest. Your teasing isn't helping the situation – if it can be considered a situation. "I would've gotten you flowers for our anniversary."

Katsuki scoffs and returns his focus to his desktop. "Flowers give me allergies. Plus, all the petals falling and shit, making a huge fucking mess."

"You're right," you concede with a sigh. "What would you accept as an anniversary gift, then?"

He doesn't answer right away, even though he already knows. "A limited edition All Might figurine." It earns him a soft laugh from you, and he sneaks a peek from the corner of his eye before your toothy smile fades.

"Don't you already have one of those?"

"They're collectibles."

"Obviously," you remark dryly.

Katsuki doesn't follow up with a rebuttal, and you fall silent, so he glances in your direction to catch you eyeing him with your leg bouncing and your fingers fidgeting in your lap. His stomach flips the most nauseating way as he realizes you're nervous.

"If you have something to say, spit it out," he barks, heat rising to his face. "Otherwise, you still have that report to write for the both of us."

"Yeah, yeah," you hum, waving your hand dismissively at the mention of work. "I have a new assignment, though. Haven't gotten a chance to tell you."

Katsuki remains silent as he waits for you to continue. His eyes narrow at your hesitation.

"The Committee is sending me on a mission in the States." You smile sheepishly, and it takes a moment to register in Katsuki's head.

"A mission? How long?"

"Eight weeks. I leave at the end of this week." You're obviously displeased with his reaction, scrunching your nose and frowning. "Thought you'd be happy for me."

2 months. You were being sent to one of the most dangerous places in the world for 2 months.

"How come I wasn't told about this mission?" He keeps his voice low, and it comes out as a growl. You look more exasperated at his attitude than his lack of an answer. "They're sending you alone?"

"No," you drawl, avoiding his heavy gaze. "They're sending Cellophane too."

Cellophane? If Katsuki wasn't angry before, he was now.

He shoots up from his seat, startling you before taking your wrist and pulling you up.

"Where are we going?" You hiss, stumbling to keep up with his long strides as he drags you to the building's staircase. With the elevators functioning perfectly, there shouldn't be any interruptions from the other patrons in the establishment.

"I get that you're pissed-" You start to say as he holds the door open for you to pass him, but he silences you with a hiss. "Did you just fucking hiss at me?"

"I'm your partner," he reminds you after the door closes behind him. Partners tell each other things. They communicate. Why didn't you tell him earlier? "I should be going with you on this mission. Why the hell are they sending Hanta?"

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. The platform is small, so you stand on the steps that make you eye level with him. "We volunteered for it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Katsuki tries to conceal his hurt, but it appears accusatory and bitter. "I would've volunteered with you if you wanted to do it so badly. I would've called you fucking crazy, but I would've done it." For you, his voice whispers in his head, and he rakes a hand through his hair.

"They wouldn't have sent you, anyways," you tell him, glaring at the wall and refusing to look at him. "You're a fan-favorite. You bring in too much money for them to send you to another country right now."

Katsuki barked out a laugh. "Like they wouldn't fucking jump at the chance to get-"

"I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to go," you blurt over him, breathing heavily. You instantly reel back, pressing your knuckles between your brows. "I didn't- That came out wrong."

A plethora of questions and emotions flooded Katsuki. He wondered if he was a lousy partner, if you were tired of working with him, if recently everything had been one-sided – but deep down, he was offended. Why-

"Why not?"

"Because," you stressed, exasperated. "Because I need some space."

Katsuki frowns at that. "Space?"

"Yes, please understand."

Oh. Oh.

"No," he says to you, making you scoff. "I don't want space."

"That's not up to you."

"What about after the mission?" Katsuki presses, reaching out to grab your arm. "I don't want you to leave. You're trying to run away." The image of you standing from your seat and pulling away from him flashes through his head, and he has to shake his head.

"What's the alternative?" Your voice is quiet, but you sound miserable, and Katsuki knows it's his fault. He's spent months blissfully ignorant of your feelings under your professionalism, and he's been unfair.

"Have dinner with me." It slips through his lips quickly, and inviting you to eat with him feels natural. "When you get back."

"Oh, fuck off," you croak, pulling away from him, but his hold on you remains firm. "You're so fucking-"

"Listen to me," he demands, and his voice bounces off the walls. "I know I'll miss you when you leave for this mission. And I'll be waiting for you to come back and thinking about you the whole time you're gone."

"You're only saying this-"

"Dumbass, do I have to spell it out for you?" Katsuki practically screams in your face, shaking you gently. "I can't fucking focus on anything if I don't have you with me. So you have to come back."

You're quiet, and Katsuki's face is on fire. His heart's in his throat, and he briefly wonders if this was how you felt all those months ago.

"I like your stupid laugh," he confesses, squeezing your arm in a desperate attempt for you to believe him. "And when you smile at something I tell you. And I- I don't- Fuck. I'm sorry I've been an idiot, but please don't run away again. And if you don't fucking believe me, I'll prove it."

Katsuki breathes in relief when you finally, finally crack a smile. Soft laughter quickly follows it, and you place your hand over his.

"Alright," you say. "You've convinced me. You can stop embarrassing yourself now."

With a sudden rush of intense embarrassment, Katsuki drops his head in his hand and sighs heavily. As your laughter grows, his uneasiness subsides, and relief slowly washes over him.

He just confessed to you. And you're smiling gently, and you look equally relieved as you grip his hand, and Katsuki can't help but smile too.

"I'm only giving you two months," he warns you, leaning in closer to you and relishing how you respond alike. You raise your brow at that, the corner of your lips twitching upward.

"Or else, what?"

"I'll drag your ass back here from the States if I have to," he says, and a glowing smile blooms across your face.

1 year later

"I love you," Katsuki murmurs, watching you step away from the villain as officers take over the arrest.

"Whatever," you scoff, throwing a light punch to his arm. "Only because I did all the work."

"You must've hit your damn head or something because I did all the heavy lifting," he refutes, shoving you away as a newscaster approaches him.

"Dynamight! Dynamight, can you share how your relationship with your partner developed with our viewers? Does it cause any tension or conflict with your peers?"

You almost laugh at the sour expression that twists on Katsuki's face at mentioning other Pro-Heroes as his 'peers'. The reporter raises their microphone higher as Katsuki leans down to comment.

"Mind your own fucking business. Now, fuck off."

"You can't curse on the news, Dynamight," you chastise as he follows you in the opposite direction, leaving the reporter stunned in silence.

"What are they gonna do? Fire me?" Katsuki grins widely, flashing his canines and swooping in for a chaste kiss on your lips.

"Alright, hotshot," you tease, pushing him away in your weak attempt to maintain professionalism. "You're not Number 1 on the charts yet."

He hums lowly in response, almost snarling as a warning to stop beating him down. "We got plans tonight with Ei and Pinky. Don't forget."

"Yes, yes, I know," you sigh, rolling your eyes. "You've reminded me five times already."

"Don't want you spoiling your appetite with your munchies."

"You're not coming back to the office with me?" You ask, noticing him staying back.

"Chargebolt's running late. I gotta cover for him for a few." Katsuki throws a thumb back with an irritated expression, but you have a slight feeling he's excited to get more patrol time. "I'll see you back at home."

Smiling, you nod and start to part ways, but you're pulled back before taking another step.

"The fuck are you going?" Amusement laces his tone, and you're laughing against his lips as Katsuki presses a dozen pecks against your lips. "Gotta say bye to me."

"Okay, goodbye," you strain, trying to escape him with the thought of being watched by civilians around you but failing to suppress your amusement. "You need to stop doing this. Let me go."

"I love you," he says to you. It's quiet and sincere, and you almost stop flailing in his arms at the sentiment.

"I know, Dynamight. I know. Now, let me go."

"Say it back." Katsuki glares at you through his mask, and you almost regret taking down his emotional barricades.

"Okay, but you need to fucking let me go." It annoys you to your wits end when Katsuki tilts his head so his ear faces you, and suddenly he's the most patient man.

"I love you too."

a/n: not my best work, but idc, had to give them a happy ending and i don't fuck with all the dramatics. with that said, hope you liked it enough

tags: @asrasmysoulmate @brunnetteiwik @katbug37 @alekssashka7 @sendnuwudes @mysideeffectsofyou @imdefgam @luvsown @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @hsxhype @chims-kookies @atsushiki @madsttx @soft-witchy @baby-snart @vampiresarezombies @geldg @punicorn999 @maryhatz @bluenightlight @when-you-are-just-done @aruste @majorapandahero @hp-hogwartsexpress @6423btw @poemzcheng @lilpothoscuttings @ushygushybaby @princess-angie-bakugo @cvltts @cloudydino @tdntu0 @awkwardaardvarkforever @rubymha @bougiebabe @arcorjoan @bustyredheadsworld @everyonehatescarmen @naturakaashi @farawayfromthesun @k0z3me

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki x you

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kingkatsuki · 2 years

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— when he stands up for you

Masterlist.

Ahh this is the first one from these little drabbles I’m posting! I really hope you enjoy these as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them💕

Warnings: none.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.3k.

Recruitment days were always a busy time in Dynamight’s agency. Most of the time Bakugou was lucky and could avoid doing the hiring and firing, his HR department more than happy to take care of the payroll. But looking for new sidekicks was important, and these were interviews that Bakugou wanted to deal with personally. He’d already spent the better part of a fortnight shortlisting candidates, Pro-Hero Red Riot had arrived into the agency to help him go through the shortlist. Although you were unsure whether he was more of a help or a hindrance, as the redhead would give you a bored smile whenever he’d escape to refill his coffee mug.

You’d never seen so many interviews scheduled, all appointments for the day postponed in favour of hiring a new sidekick. Smiling softly as you offered each new up and coming Hero a seat as they waited for their turn to impress the number two Dynamight.

You gave him a small smile each time you’d introduce a new interviewee, laying their file and information down in front of him so he could read through their history.

A few hours later you’d finally managed to work your way down the list of candidates to the last name- a young, cocksure hero with a strength quirk. The standout achievements on his resume was that he’d managed to get his hero license before everyone else in his class, saving a coach full of people from falling to their deaths by bending the girders on a bridge. On paper, he sounded pretty impressive. But face to face—

“Oi, how much longer is he gonna be? I got shit to do.” The man shouted from across the room.

You were sympathetic to him, he’d been waiting about fifteen minutes already and usually Bakugou had prompt timekeeping. But a last minute, unexpected call from Uravity had him delayed.

“He’ll be ready to see you soon, thank you for your patience.” You gave him a warm smile from behind your desk as you continued to type out an email to Red Riot’s agency.

“Why don’t you stop checking your Facebook for five minutes and go let him know I’m waiting.” He rolled his eyes.

“Mr Dynamight knows you’re here.” You clenched your jaw to stop yourself from giving a sarcastic retort.

Who the fuck did this guy think he was? You were already hoping that he wouldn’t get the position, already dreading the prospect of having to work alongside this man.

“If he knew I was here I’d be in there already,” He sighed, “So fucking incompetent.”

“Excuse me?” You were used to dealing with all sorts of irate people as Dynamight’s secretary, but you’d never experienced such attitude from a potential recruit.

“Is it too hard for you to understand, sweetheart?” The man scoffed, “Now hurry up and let him know I’m here.”

You were certain this was going to be the day you lost your job, a slew of angry words on the tip of your tongue as you tried to keep your disposition cheery. But you could feel the corners of your lips drooping down as your brows furrowed in a glare.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Your professionalism was slowly morphing into anger as you stood from your chair behind your desk, glaring at the ma n.

“What did you say?” Your head snapped towards the door to Dynamight’s office which was now wide open, your boss stepping out onto the floor as he’d cleverly heard the commotion.

“Dynamight, sir!” The man’s sneer quickly turned into a disingenuous smile as he made his way over to Bakugou in quick strides, reaching his hand out for him to shake, but Bakugou’s gaze remained focused directly into his eyes.

“Is that how you talk to my staff?”

“She wasn’t doing her job—” The young sidekick dropped his hand as he turned to glare at you, “She wouldn’t let you know I was waiting.”

“She,” Bakugou mimicked his tone, “Was doing her job perfectly. With that kind of attitude you’ll never make it as a hero.”

You felt your heart racing as you watched the scene in front of you, swelling with pride that Bakugou was defending you in front of his asshole as you couldn’t help but admire how pretty he looked when he was irate.

“Get out.” Bakugou spoke over the man who was currently talking about his work history, his patience already thin as he walked directly past him and made a beeline for your desk.

You’d never felt so glad that Bakugou was such an excellent judge of character, thankful that you wouldn’t have to deal with a man like that inside the agency each day.

“— I recently finished my work study with Fourth Kind.” He continued.

“One call and no one in this city will hire you,” Bakugou snarled.

The young man looked as though he might cry as his lower lip wobbled, frozen in place as Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest.

“I won’t repeat myself again,” He continued, “Get out.”

You felt vindicated as you watched the man leave, the once cocky persona reduced to nothing as the elevator doors dinged to close. Your entire body felt as though it was on fire from how protective Bakugou had been over you, a heat rising to your cheeks as you avoided eye contact. Afraid you’d give away your feelings for him if you met his gaze.

“Hey,” Bakugou rasped, “You good?”

“I’m okay,” You smiled, “Pretty used to assholes like him.”

“That don’t mean it’s right,” He continued, “Fuckin’ prick.”

“I mean, he was your last interview so at least on the plus side you’re done for the day.” You smiled.

“Let me grab us some coffee and you can help me pick someone.” Bakugou smiled back, already walking towards the machine at the end of the hall.

“I don’t think I’m qualified for that—“ You called out to him.

There was no way you could pick his new sidekick, especially if you picked an annoying one. You’d never hear the end of it.

“You saw the list of people.” Bakugou continued, “And you met them all today, same as me.”

“Well yeah, but—”

“So, it’s settled.” He grinned, checking his watch, “Shit, I didn’t even realise how late it was.”

“Yeah, it’s been a pretty long day.”

“Okay, so new plan.” Bakugou smiled, turning towards you as the coffee machine was still heating up, “Dinner at that little ramen place and you help me pick my new sidekick.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to ask Kiri- Red Riot?”

“I trust you.” He gave you a genuine smile.

The words had you melting beneath his gaze, crimson eyes locking with your own as you felt your knees begin to go weak. Trying to push your feelings for your boss to the back of your mind as you prayed the butterflies would stop fluttering against your ribcage.

“Okay, but you’re paying.” You grinned.

“As if I’d ever let you pay, sweetheart.” Bakugou smiled back.

If you’d been paying attention you would’ve noticed the way Bakugou stood a little closer to you that night as you walked side by side to the little hole in the wall ramen bar, he’d blame it on the brisk winter air if you asked, but it was really because he wanted to wrap an arm around you to shield you from the biting chill.

#soft bakugou #Bakugou x reader #bakugou drabble

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moronic-validity · 2 months

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Fuck it. More self serving shit, but this is all headcanons because I just got done writing a fucking 4 page essay that my blood, sweat, and tears literally went into.

The 141 + Farah, König, Laswell, Nik, Valeria, and Graves x best friend! Reader who is stressed with classes. I'm sorry it's a shorter extended list than usual, but I'm like...still dying from the paper

Warning for mentions of dry heaving and an inappropriate joke, but this is straight up PG-13

Price handles it well, shocking absolutely no one. He's a bit confused why you're talking about pulling your hair out over a paper, but you said it was important, so he's going to sit with you and talk you through the entire paper. At some point, he basically just tells you what to type and you do. When the paper gets a B+ Price almost throws a chair.

The one that will shock you? Soap handles it well too! The second he sees the tears well up, he's sitting next to you, helping you map out the entire assignment. He won't talk you through it the way Price does, but he helps you get your thoughts in order enough to complete it on your own.

Ghost....well Ghost handles it in stride. You two became friends because of dry wit, snark, and the ability to remain calm, cool, and collected when shit hits the fan. And then he walks in on you dry heaving because you just found out you have a 5 page paper due by midnight and it's already 10 pm. Fuck. If your hair is long, he preemptively holds it back for you, before squatting next to you to figure out what has you so upset. When he finds out it's over a paper, he has to suppress a relieved laugh. He thought it was something serious. He'll stay up as long as you need and let you bounce ideas off him, but he's not gonna hold your hand and walk you through it.

Which leaves us with my boy Gaz! He's somewhere in-between the Ghost and Price. He showed up to your place for y'all's weekly movie night and heard you cussing up and down, left and right. Thinking there was an issue, he let himself in, only to see you yelling at your computer, tears streaming down your face. He does actually let out a relieved laugh, and sits on the couch with you. He doesn't want to hear apologies for forgetting movie night, he wants to help you get this done so movie night can commence. He will straight up take your computer and finish the assignment for you, if he has to.

Bonus!!!

Farah: Absolutely helps you crush the assignment. She'll bitch with you about the assignment, the professor, anything, but you two will get this done. If you get less than an A, I'd be shocked.

König: Listen, this guy will bluntly tell you that you should've started the assignment sooner, but he'll also be there for you to bounce ideas off of and he'll help steer your line of thought until you've got it handled.

Laswell: Depending on how upset you are, she is fully willing to forge documents that say you were admitted to the hospital for a few days and get you an extension. That being said, you get this privilege once in a calendar year. Use it wisely.

Nik: Well, C's get degrees, right? He'll do his best to help, but depending on the assignment, you both might be fucked. Nik is smart as hell, but some of this shit is new and also complicated for no fucking reason.

Valeria: She will do whatever you need her to to get this assignment done. Shut up and just keep you on task? Done. Do it for you? Done. Kill your professor? She knows a guy, done. Oh wait, you were joking about that last one? Um... Give her like...10 minutes.

Graves: He'll help you out to the best of his abilities, but when that C comes back and both of you are crestfallen, he will half-jokingly remind you that there are other ways to get an A.

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storm-angel989 · 1 month

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Heyyyy would you write mama Vel if you got a request for it? I fear we have all been sleeping on her potential

Hey!

Sure will! Peek the below!

<3 Mandy

Velvette swore up one side and down the other that she would never have children. When interviewed less than a year ago, she flipped her hair to one side, scrunched up her nose and gave a direct quote to the inquisitive reporter.

“Ruin my figure and wreck my company time? As if.”

Now as she knelt in front of the toilet, her breakfast making a second appearance for the third time that week, she wondered if the possibility she denied the most was coming true.

Apparently, Vox thought the same thing.

“I mean, is it possible, honey?” He inquired gently as he held back her hair. “I mean, we aren't exactly what you might call…”

“Careful? I should say not,” Valentino said as he leaned on the doorframe, watching the scene unfold within. A knowing grin spread across his face as he watched the scene before him unfold. Striding forward, he handed Vox a cellophane wrapped package.

“Vel, it takes me great pleasure to tell you that is the most sophisticated piece of technology you will ever pee on. Vox, feel free to be offended by that, I don’t give a shit.” Valentino told them both as he turned away. “If you need me, I’ll be in my studio.”

“She doesn’t pee on me, that's your kink,” Vox yelled after him.

“Asshole,” Velvette muttered as she pulled herself to her feet. “But he has a point. Give me the test. How does it work, do I have to swab my mouth or something?”

“Uh, no, Vel, he wasn’t kidding about that part,” Vox mumbled as he handed her the test. “You literally pee on the stick.”

Velvette snatched it from his hands and shoved him out the door. “This is my point, everything that has to do with kids is gross.”

“But, Vel, I-”

Velvette slammed the door shut and, after a quick review of and follow of instructions, paced anxiously in front of the test as it lay on the counter. Seven minutes, she could wait seven minutes.

“Vel? Will you let me stand by you at least?” Vox’s soft voice came from behind the door. “Please?”

Velvette sighed and walked quickly across the room. She unlocked the door and Vox took her hand as he stepped in.

“Hey, we talked about this, right?” He muttered as he took her in his arms. “We both knew it was a possibility, and we both decided that if it happened…”

“Then it happened, I’m just scared, Vox. If I’m pregnant, that changes everything,” she replied anxiously. “I know you want kids, and I…”

“I know,” Vox replied gently as he kissed the top of her head. “But we’re in this together, right? Either way, we’re in this, side by side.” He glanced across the bathroom counter. “Do you want to look first or should I?”

“You look, I’d rather the news come from you than that…technological torture device. Honestly, this has been the longest seven minutes of my life,” Velvette replied as she buried her face into Vox’s chest.

She felt him reach across the counter. Several moments passed and Velvette looked up at him.

“Well? What’s the verdict, Vox? Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.”

Vox leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, one arm wrapped around her back, the other brushing against her belly.

“Vel, we did it. You’re pregnant.”

#hazbin hotel #the vees #hazbin fluff #valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox the tv demon #vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin velvette #vox x velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin vees #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin valentino

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transparentkinks · 9 days

Text

When Nora is depressed

I've been bedrotting for like a week now and I'm writing to cope with it. My brain works great :)

Hancock always helps.

“I just decided not to go.” Nora spoke firmly through the door. She was sitting on the ground leaning against the door.

“Oh come on!” Piper kicked the door. “You’ve hardly come out all week!”

Despite her protests, Nora could hear her walking away from her door. She let out a sigh of relief and stood to sink back into her mattress.

Ever since she blew up the institute she’s been trying to let the celebration blow over. Her room has proven the most practical sanctuary. The one celebration she was pulled into was enough for her. For the rest of the commonwealth this was the best thing to happen in a very long time. She knew she should be celebrating. People were calling her a hero again. She didn't feel like one.

She’d killed her son. She had no real family left. She knew the child synth her son created was waiting desperately to hear from her. He thought she was his mom. He was terrified that he was going to die. Her son created robots capable of feeling, gave them pain and fear, made one a child. What a cursed existence. Looking at him too long freaked her out. She knew she had to get her shit together. He was terrified she was going to die. Everyone thought something was wrong with her. She needed to be a mom, to be a general, to be something other than the husk she is now.

Maybe they’d all be better off if she did die. What use was she? Some particularly capable monster. Able to cut a path through the commonwealth straight to her son, get close enough to wipe him and his legacy from the face of the earth. Who was she, but the mother of monsters? Another old world plague that won’t die. Another following in the legacy of her generation, poisoning the world for those that come after. The word hero made her feel sick.

She’d found a mirror, mostly in tact. Hung it over her dresser. She’d break it by now if it wasn’t such a rarity. She looked so different now compared to before the war. So many new scars, more tanned. She couldn’t shave anymore. She had wrinkles and grey hairs from the stress. She felt disgusting, inside and out. She never felt clean, she was always a mess. Her body disgusted her. It just reminded her of the monster she made, and all the people she killed to learn the extent of it. She was a horrible mother, a worse leader.

She thinks Nate would be disgusted with what she’d become. She wished Shawn just left her to die in that pod with the rest of the vault. She didn’t know what she could do now. Everyone needed something from her, needed her to be something. She’d practically started a cult and she didn’t even have it in her to actually run it competently. How many people died for her because she couldn’t keep her nose out of the commonwealth’s business? How many good people risked their lives on the daily at her whim? She wasn’t sure she could do it anymore. She felt like a monster.

“Nora!” She could hear Hancock holler over his pounding at the door.

“I’m not feeling well, just go away!” She yelled through her door, but before she could stand and brace the door to get her point across, he’d already kicked down her door. “Hancock! What the fuck?!”

“Shit-” He sighed, taking in her and her room before striding up to her with a frown and grabbing her face. She grabbed at his wrists and he sighed. His grip wasn’t harsh, but he didn’t let her pry his hands away. “Nora, you look awful.”

“Gee, thanks” She sighed, rolled her eyes. Just what she needed.

“I mean you look like you’ve barely slept in days. No one has seen you leave your room in days, you’ve only been talking through your door, and we don’t even know if you’re eating.” He shot her a pointed look, which she made sure to avoid by looking at the wall. “Nora what is going on?”

“I’m just not feeling well-”

“That’s bullshit Nora and you know it. You can’t just hole up in your room and avoid it. You gotta talk to someone about whatever’s goin’ on. We’ve tried giving you space and clearly that ain’t working’” He sighed, thumbing at her cheek. “But me an’ the rest, we can’t just sit by and let you disappear like this.”

He let go of her face, grabbed her hand and sat at the edge of her bed. She followed suit, looking down at her hand in his. “I don’t even know what to say” she sighed, pulled her legs close and hugged them with her free arm.

“Then just talk, anything you’re thinking. I’ll just listen, okay?” She chanced a glance at his face. She looked away again quickly. He was looking at her, and he was frowning.

“I just feel disgusting” she sighed. He started running his thumb over the back of her hand and she had to suppress a shiver. She opted to press her forehead to her knees and close her eyes. Try and ground herself. “I can’t look at what he made, Shawn, without wanting to breakdown. And he needs a mom so bad, and I want to be a mom. I thought I wanted to be a mom, but I look at what my son did and-” She was gripping her pants tight. “What kind of mother am I? How many people did I kill, how many died or risked their lives just for me to find out what kind of monster he was? What I made. What kind of leader am I? Running around fixing my own consequences and being called a hero for it?”

“Nora, that’s-”

“My whole generation, people talk about before the war like some mystical past, but we’re the reason the world is like this. The mutants, ferals, synths, half of that shit was being made just so we could have more”

“Nora-”

“We just poisoned the world.” She felt him squeezing her hand, his other on her shoulder. “Who the hell am I to mess with the world any more? A monster or the mother of them, I never should have stepped out of that vault. I should have died with the bo-”

“Nora!” He sounded angry. The second she lifted her head to look at him he grabbed her face and pulled her to him. Suddenly she had no choice but to look him in the eye, and it made her heart do something strange meeting his gaze. “You-” He pressed his forehead to hers, closed his eyes and took a weary sigh. “Nora you’re the best thing to happen to the commonwealth in a long time.” He leaned back and looked her in the eye, cut her off with a glare when he saw her open her mouth. “You never got a chance to raise your kid, and he tried to play games with you and the whole commonwealth because of it. I just don’t believe he would turn out like that if you raised him. As long as I’ve known you, I’ve watched you try so hard to be a good mother.”

“But I-”

“No! Nora, you didn’t do shit. I’ve only ever seen you try to make the best of a bad situation. You faced down shit most people wouldn’t have dreamed of and survived, just to find your kid. And if you ask me, everyone here is better off for it. I ain’t ever seen you kill someone who didn’t have it coming”

She closed her eyes and sighed. ”I mean it. Every life you took made the commonwealth a safer place. In case you forgot, you rebuilt the minutemen after everyone thought they were dead, and you restructured it so, I believe and I know you hope it will go on when you can’t lead anymore.”

“I don’t know” She mumbled.

“Sunshine-, look at me” She opened her eyes reluctantly. The look he was giving her felt like he was gripping her heart and squeezing.

“People can travel safely now, people have living standards like nothing these people have seen. You raised cities. Nora, do you understand how hard it was for some people just to get food and shelter before you showed up? I thought I was doin’ good with the bunkhouse in goodneighbor but you’re building houses. With power and plumbing. People have privacy, safety, fucking comforts, people who were sleeping in ditches before you showed up. It's not your fault your family got picked for a vault, It's not your fault pre war powers played with your life as much as everyone else’s. Its not your fault the world is fucked and people are cruel. I can’t say I understand what you’re dealing with right now, but I know someone who needs a reality check when I see one. You’re not a bad person Nora. You’re a damn hero.”

“I don’t want to be” She sobbed out. He was thumbing at her cheek, brushing tears away. “I can't be a hero again, its not-”

“You don’t get to choose whether to be a hero or not Nora. It's just what you become when you help people enough, especially when it comes to killing.” He pressed his forehead back to her’s. “Trust me, its usually the deeds that haunt us the most that turn people into heroes.”

“It feels wrong-” She sighed.

“I get that sunshine” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “But if you ask me, if anyone deserves the title it's you. I don’t know how you manage it but you’re a good leader. People fight for you and what you’ve given them because they've seen what you can do, and they believe in what you’re building.”

“I don’t know how to be that, if I can still be that” She raised her hands to his wrists. Touching him felt grounding.

“But you’ve already been that. I don’t know what more you think you need to be, but I think you can take a solid break now. If you need time, or if you can’t get around to liking synth Shawn, I don’t think anyone is gonna hold it against you. It ain’t fair what he did to that kid or to you. He’s got support here, you know Codsworth Ada and Curie fawn over him, and you know Macreedy Nick Danse and I will be there for him. It's gonna be okay for both of you. Just, don’t go dealing with it alone and probably not eating for days.” Nora nodded in his grip.

“I’m sorry” She knew she was still crying.

“You’re okay. We just care about you, ya’ know? We know you’re from the past and all that but you got a life here, now, with us. We can’t have you drifting off into the past.” She nodded again, and he pulled her into a hug. “We should go out tonight like you said you would.

“I really don’t wanna” She whined.

“We don’t gotta go right now, but you’re not staying in here all night.” He spoke firmly.

“Okay…” She sighed.

“And you’re not gonna be moping in here alone”. Hancock added. She hummed in response.

“Just hold me for a while?” She requested.

“Of course sunshine”

#fallout 4 #fallout companions #sole survivor #john hancock #sole survivor x hancock #mental illness

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satninroses · 1 year

Text

Unzipped Bonds

(A/N): This is was my first request! It was fun to write. I hope you all enjoy :-)

Summary: The zipper on the back of your dress gets stuck. Elvis comes to your recuse but gets distracted.

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Fem! Reader (Could also be imagined as Austin! Elvis)

Word Count: 2,537

Warnings: SMUT! MINORS DNI! Oral, (M. Receiving) Penetration, Virgin! Reader, and Swearing.

At first, you zipped it all the way and tried to slip into it from the underside but that didn’t work. Your second attempt, putting it on backward, zipping it, and then turning the to the right side, was also all in vain. You sucked it up and tried to just reach behind and zip it from the back but it was only resulting in frustration and sweat.

“Would you please just go on?! Elvis will be here any moment,” you spoke to the dress. For a moment, you had considered changing to the slightly less elegant dress but decided against it as you didn’t want to look prudish in front of his family.

“(Y/N)? Are you in here? Party’s starting soon!” Your stomach dropped. “O-oh! Elvis! Yeah, I’ll be out in a second!” You assume that he didn’t hear you because he continued to look through rooms and call your name. “Good news! The Colonel made up some of these buttons and other knick knacks tosh-“

Before you could even react, Elvis had pushed open the door to your room.”Shit! I-I’m sorry!” You gasped and attempted to cover what he had already seen. He turned his head and stood there for a second. “Do you-you need help?” You hesitated to answer, however, you really did need the help getting it zipped up. “Yeah.”

There was an audible gulp from the other side of the room where he resided. He took a few strides to get to you. “O-Okay. Just hold still.” He placed one hand on your hip and the other was on the zipper. The zipper sat right about the globes of your ass and it took everything in you to not shudder in his hold.

He began to yank the zipper up your back but it got caught in something. “Hold still.” He pressed his body right up against your back. Every breath he took was right up against your neck. His warm hands made work of the zipper. Every now and then, his hand would slip to the small of your back but never further.

After a few minutes of toying with the zipper, he finally pulled it up. Only for the zipper to become loose on one side and unattached from the dress as a whole.”

“Ugh! I just got this dress! I really wanted to wear it tonight too.” You pout and look up at him with sad eyes. He smiles down at you sympathetically and holds you close to his body. “I’m real sorry doll. I didn’t mean to break it. I promise I’ll buy you as many dresses as you want soon.” You giggle softly. “I don’t know about ALL the dresses I want. Maybe just something as a placeholder for this,” you stated with a hint of humor in your voice. For a moment, you stood unmoving in his warm embrace.

Due to the position you were in, your ass was pressed pretty close to his pelvis. You could feel him hardening as he was also probably taking that into account.

Down below the surface, you could feel yourself getting wet at the friction between you and Elvis. You wanted to resist the urge to become turned on by your predicament but it was incredibly hard. Little to your knowledge, Elvis was feeling the same way. As soon as he walked in on you, he wanted nothing more than to rip the dress off your figure and pound you into the mattress.

He had always thought you were nothing short of angelic. You had the perfect features and it was all he could think about. Growing up, you had several boyfriends and he had several girlfriends. Neither of you could stand it but kept your mouth shut about it. However, deep down inside there was always a connection that you and Elvis had that you felt like you could never act on.

His hand moved their way from your sides where he held you in an embrace, down to your hips. He rubbed little circles while keeping his head down on your neck. “Elvis?”

“Yes, doll?”

“Can I kiss you?”

With no hesitation, he spun you around to face him and smashed his lips into yours beginning the first of many animalistic kisses that night. Your hands move to wrap around his neck to deepen the kiss. One of his hands moves to your ass while the other settles on your back. “God, babe. I’ve wanted to do this for years. As soon as I walked in on you and saw your back exposed, I wanted nothing more than to have a hand on it and fuck you nice and deep.”

Was it possible to become even more wet from his words? You move closer to his embrace and kiss him again. “Oh, El. Please take me. I need you so bad.”

He maneuvered your body to the bed and laid you down under him. His hands make quick work of the dress and his mouth is everywhere on you. He kissed, bit, and sucked on your neck til he found your sweet spot. You arched your back into his upper half and threw your head back. He continued to suck until a large pink and red hickey was formed. While the abuse upstairs was in full swing, his hands were on your breasts. He spent his time one at a time, making sure that both got an equal amount of attention. He moved his body so he was eye contact with your puffy nipples.

He took one in his mouth. His tongue lapped and swirled around the pearly bud in an attempt to maximize your arousal. You were a moaning mess above him. Your hands moved to the back of his neck again to hold him there. While he was working overtime with both his hand and his mouth, his free hand moved down to feel just how soaked he made you.

He had started by lightly rubbing your inner thighs but it got gradually rough and higher. Soon, his hand was cupping your heat over your panties and letting the wetness dampen his hand. “Gosh Darlin’, if I had known the effect I had on you, I would have made a move sooner.” Your giggle at his offhand remark was short-lived as he began to circle your clit at a medium pace. He pushed your panties to the side to let his hands graze over your soft lips. His other hand snaked down from his masterpiece on your nipples to his belt. He unfastened the buckle and tugged down his pants to reveal his lack of underwear. A loud and breathy moan greeted his ears as he appeared to have found your other sweet spot.

“Right there, pretty girl?” His hand was moving at thunder speed in an attempt to bring you closer to your first orgasm. Your groin subconsciously began to grind on his hand to create more friction. Suddenly, he pulled his hand away making you whine at the lack of touch.

“Why did you stop?”

“I wanna try something. Do you trust me?”

“Of course E!”

He grabbed your wrist, gently, and pulled you to sit up and face him. “Get on the floor in front of me. On your knees.” You swallowed heavily at the demanding tone of his voice but complied.

While you were getting untangled from the blankets, you decided to add a bit of tease and shimmied your panties off with a little shake. His large palm went down on your ass. “Cheeky girl,” he spoke with a smirk.

You moved to a comfortable position on your knees and look at him with a nervous glint in your eyes. “Put your hands in mine. I’ll show you how to please a man, angel.” You offered your hands to him and allowed him to guide them to the base of his cock.

The warm flesh was standing high and mighty right under his belly button. His tip was a pinkish-red that leaked with pre-cum. There were veins protruding from it and you could feel it twitch in your hands. You rubbed your thighs together at the sensation of wetness pooling.

“Move your hands up and down. You can add some pressure and speed but not too much.” You followed his orders precisely and began to jack him off. Every now and then, he would let out a low groan or a quiet whine.

“Baby, why don’t you try doing this with your mouth? No teeth though.” Once again, you followed his instruction. You started with small kitten kisses and licks to the tip and the underside. It progressed to you finally putting the tip in your mouth fully and moving your head back and forth at a comfortable pace and rhythm.

Above you, Elvis was his mess. He didn’t want your first time to be rough, but the urge to grab your hair and force your head down was eating at him. He settled at setting his hand right on the crown of your head and pushing down with a little bit of pressure.

You bobbed your head to his speed and began taking him deeper and deeper. You pulled up for air and he got a good look at your face; Sweat trickling down your body, drool at your mouth with a little bit of spit connecting his cock to your mouth. Your hair was messy and stuck to your face in places. There was no other way he could describe your face than beautiful. Even while looking like the pretty cockslut he could ever imagine, you were still the most elegant and angelic-looking girl he had ever seen.

You continued to bob your head up and down until he was wheezing. His grip on your hair loosened until he let go and gripped your chin the signal of a cease to your actions. He held his hand out and you took it, pulling yourself up and back. You laid down stomach up on the bed.

“I’m gonna do what I’ve been dreaming of baby. Is that ok?” You smile at him and nod enthusiastically.

Now, it had been all fun when it was just heavy petting and dick-sucking. However, you had never actually been penetrated. Even when you masturbated, there was still a lack of penetration and more of a focus on rubbing your clit til your wrist got tired. Nevertheless, you were determined to show Elvis that you were a big girl and could handle it.

He gripped your waist and flipped you over so you were ass up on the bed. You gripped a pillow close to you to ground yourself for whatever was to come. The dip in the bed where he had been previously disappeared as he went to grab his wallet from his pants and retrieve the condom that was in there.

He ripped it with his teeth and rolled it down the length of his cock until it hit the base. He lined himself up with your hole. “Are you ready? I’ll be gentle. Of course, you tell me how you want it.” You nod again and grip the pillow tighter.

He pushed his cock in, inch by inch. He was utilizing your slick lubricant to make the movement more smooth. He continued this until he was balls-deep in you. You were panting and clutching the pillow with a death grip.

“You ok darlin’?”

“Mhm. Just.. give me a second to adjust!”

He pats your ass as a ‘yes, of course, dear’. He wiggled his hand down to your clit and began to move in slow lazy circles in an attempt to stimulate you.

After a few minutes of the sweet nothings he would whisper to you and the friction of his rough calloused guitar-playing fingers to your bundle of nerves, you finally gave him the go-ahead to start moving.

At first, his thrusts were slow and gentle in an effort to make sure you were comfortable and got the hang of it.

“Mmm, Elvis. Please go faster, please,” you moaned. His thrusts began to pick up in speed and force. His hands had set gently at your waist to write on your ass cheeks. His left hand spread your cheek and the other grip pushed your back down further to make your arch higher.

You sunk your head deep into the pillow and let out a loud moan when he had finally hit your G-spot. He continued to abuse the little nub within you.

“God doll. You’re so perfect. I knew from the m-moment I saw you that I needed to make you mine. To mark you. To let the world know that you belong to Elvis Presley. So glad that dress zipper got stuck. Now I have you under me. You’re so perfect in every way Satnin.”

You didn’t know if what you felt was love, your high getting closer, or both. Either way, you could imagine that your eyes were hearts right now. “Elvis. You feel so good inside me. I wish we had done this sooner. I love you so much.”

He closed the gap between you and bent his body as close to yours as he could. He began pulling your hips back to meet his forward thrusts.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Harder Elvis! Please!” He listened. He began ramming into you at a force that began to jostle the bed.

“Take it (Y/N)! God, I’m gonna cum. Cum with me Satnin!”

With the demand and nickname, you were pushed over the edge. Your head shot up and you let out a near pornagraphic moan. Elvis let out a few more sloppy and unrhythmic thrusts before releasing his seed into the condom.

He took the condom off and discarded it into the trash can near your bed-side table. He collapsed into your back. Yours and his breathing were heavy and hard. After a few blissful minutes of sitting and embracing one another, he finally breaks the silence.

“I love you so much. I-I really hope this is the start of something.”

You giggled tiredly and look at him with hooded and dewy eyes. “Of course. I’m so glad I got to share that with you, Elvis. I love you so much.”

He brought your face to his in a passionate, gentle kiss. Your breasts were pressed into his bare torso as he deepened the kiss. He finally released after some time and laid you both down.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you wear that dress again.”

#50s elvis #60s elvis #70s elvis #austin butler #austin butler x reader #elvis 2022 #elvis presley #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x reader smut #elvis x reader #elvis x reader smut #austin!elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader smut #x reader #x reader smut #reader insert #reader insert smut #satninroses

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a-libra-writes · 1 year

Note

hello, you can be a widow reader who has three children, since her husband died at the hands of the mafia, but then the reader meets Niko, but did not know that he was a killer, the children liked him, one of the children asked the reader "is this our new dad?" and one son) (lacadeisi)

This was interesting to write ~ And im weak to kiddos haha. Enjoy~

Look, Nicodeme Savoy is always ready to comfort a lady in distress, especially one this pretty. The fact you're a widow and a little older than him isn't a bother at all, nor are the rugrats you mentioned. He's not bothered by kids - well, he doesn't really think of them, and he doesn't intend for this relationship to be anything more than helping a poor maman relax at the end of her workweek.

When he first visits the house, he can't actually recall how many kids you mentioned. Two, four ...? Oh, three. That's a lot for one parent, no wonder you're always leaning on him and looking so tired. He takes their excitement in stride, letting the kittens climb on him and ask a million questions. He's very interesting to them; this big man with a strange accent and nice way of talking. All it takes is a story about swamps and gators and a little magic, and they're totally distracted so you can slip upstairs and get ready for your date.

His sister just loves teasing him about his "older woman" (not that you're much older than them) and how she'll make him "settle down". He takes it in stride, because Serafine has always loved teasing him about his paramours, and he gives the same sass about whatever lady has caught her eye this week. She finds it mildly interesting that he's still dating you after months, but still doesn't think much of it.

Eventually, you'll tell Niko what happened to your former husband. You still aren't aware of what his job is, and welllll, the way he figures it... He's not exactly the same. He's not even that loyal to the Marigold gang, so it's not the same as the mafia. What you don't know what hurt you, he thinks. Serafine warns Niko about keeping his petite maman in the dark, but but only once or twice. If it's time for a job, she's absolutely going to pick his ass up in their expensive car while she's dressed in a suit and Mordecai sulking in the back. Niko can explain his shit to you later.

He doesn't have any plans to babysit or intentionally spend time with the kiddos - as in, anytime he's out with you and the kids, it's incidental. Usually he shows up to the house early and figures he'll go along on a quick grocery trip or help you clean up the table. It gets him closer to the date he showed up for, and puts him in your good graces. Win, win, he figures. If the little girl wants to put some bows in his tail while he waits for you, or the boys ask him to throw a ball a few times, that's easy enough to do.

Once, the youngest asked if he was their father now - you were embarrassed, but Niko just laughed and said nope. He's certainly old enough to be one, but noooope. When he's out with you and the little ones and a passerby comments on "his" pretty children - even if they look nothing like him - Niko just laughs and says something absurd. They're just some hobos following you two around, they're some kiddos he's kidnapped for the circus, they're for sale, etc.

He doesn't initiate any overt affection or hanky panky while the kids are around, but he can keep from giving you a kiss on the cheek when he comes in and getting a little handsy if they're in the other room. Many times you've reminded him to wait until the kids are in bed, though they aren't stupid. Unfortunately any relatives who ask what they've been up might end up hearing about "mama's kissing friend" who comes by in the evening. Yeah, might have to do some explaining about that ...

(If the person whose watching the kids disapproves of him, Niko is 100% going to give them a smirk and wink when your back is turned.)

One time he picked up the kids from the sitter, rolling up in the juiced-up expensive Marigold car, with Serafine grinning and smoking in the other seat. Niko acted like nothing was strange - like his bandaged hands - just that he was here to pick up "les petite puces", and you were expecting him back soon.

Yes he drives WAY too fast back to your place, with the windows down, to the kiddo's delight. They're a giggling windblown mess by the time they're home.

#nicodeme savoy x reader #nico savoy x reader #lackadaisy x reader #libra headcanons

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queen-of-elves · 1 year

Note

Hello! I've seen you take requests, and I've seen you write Star Wars, so... Can you write something Hux X Admiral of the Resistance! Reader? (or Leia's personal assistant?) (I like the idea of the First Order and the Resistance linking) Where the FO capture her as she is strategically important and she is very cold, caustic and professional. And Hux (already a spy😳) understands that he must help her get out, and something clearly arises between them😏 ... I know this is awfully vague, but if you can... Sorry this is so long and weird💕🙏

The Vice Admiral

A/N: awww I love this 💕 hopefully I did your idea the justice T-T and I do have to apologize for it taking so long- life happened I guess + I often times dont really write when it's summer

A/N2: REQUEST ARE OPEN however I have some wips I would like to get out so they also might take some time

Words: 2650

Warnings: cursing, mentions of torture? inform me if you find some more

It was not in your intentions to get caught but atleast Dameron and others got away with the data you were sent by General Organa to retrieve from one of loyal Resistance informants. It was meant to be something you had already done a million times. Simply land on the planet, locate the informant with the data, retrieve it and go back to the main base. Sometimes it was more simple than others but you were brave and you were smart, plus the great pilot, Poe Dameron, by your side was an upgrade from the scary solo missions you used to receive before moving up ranks in the Resistance.

However, this time, oh Maker, this time it was a shit show. Everything that could get fucked up turned out to be even bigger mess than you could ever imagine. The excellent ship Poe promised? At first glance you thought your disguise was scavengers. Fine, you could deal with a crappy ship in exchange for Poe’s actually excellent piloting skills but the ride was bumpy. However, some asteroid fields couldn’t stop you and Dameron from collecting the needed data for the Resistance. What could stop you though was the ship going kaput on Poe which meant you being late for the exchange, which meant more trouble and more trouble could only mean the First Order being tipped off. Yes, big shit show indeed. By the time you landed and got your asses to the meeting spot the First Order was already ready to arrest you.

***

Maker, if you had a few more seconds you could have already escaped the binds keeping you still but with the door sliding open you had no seconds to spare. The figure strided inside and you immediately recognized him. And you knew you were in trouble, if the one conducting the interrogation was any other lower ranking officer you were sure you could escape one way or another. But with him, you were not entirely sure.

“Vice Admiral Sloane.” His voice was commanding, bouncing off the metal walls it made it even more threatening than you could even imagine, even though it conveyed incorrect information.

The First Order database seemed not to be updated of your promotion, Sloane was indeed one of the candidates for the position just like you but your experience in the strategist division of the New Republic Defense Forces left all other candidates miles behind you in the process of selection.

“Incorrect.” The smug smile on the General’s face quickly faded and was soon painted on your lips. However just as the smile grazed your face it hid away under serious expression. This was a battle of wits and will and YOU would make sure not to lose it.

“Excuse me?!” His voice was higher than before, he was too confused to mask it. You were now winning by a single point.

“Vice Admiral? Of that I can assure you.” But you continued, anchoring the groundwork for your success. Just get him irritated, too much irritated and bothered by not knowing who you are, so he leaves the room. With just a few seconds you were sure you could escape the binds but you had to be alone.

“Sloane? Unfortunately and definitely not.”

“What?!” He seemed absent for a moment, in the room but devoid of any expression, searching for something in his head. Now you could see it, the cogs in his head turning, his brain using seconds to finish minutes long thought conundrums.

Armitage Hux, the General of the First Order seemed to be losing in that moment, not just his cool but also the battle. Now was the time to strike, finish him off and secure your escape route as soon as possible. If you would be able to piss him off even more it could give you an opening the moment he leaves the room to check. But it had to be precisely executed, if he were to send someone else for the information you would fail.

“It doesn’t matter. You were at the meeting site for the informant to meet the Resistance.” He was faster, his words spilling out before you could open your mouth dealing the final blow.

“Oh.” Armitage sensed he couldn’t get more out of you in the name of reaction so he continued. Building a case against you in the process.

“We got a tip. An informant on our side decided to tell us there might be a rebel scum strolling around the market.”

Calm down, you can still do it.

“And that’s supposed to be me?” This time you rewarded him with an answer, though it was slightly unwanted.

“Yes.” He was visibly gritting his teeth, his whole face indicating all was not yet lost and you could recover to your plan in just a few words.

And we are right back on the tracks.

“So, the mere assumption that I was there to meet some means I am a rebel scum?”

“Yes.” This time he was fuming, ready to boil over. It wasn’t as visible as you would expect, he was still somewhat collected and especially still cold but his ears were red and the artery on his neck seemed to be bulging in anger.

“I am not much of a stroller, you see… and on top of that I can assure you, you are wasting your, mine and the precious First Order’s time.”

Just get him out of this room. You are fast enough to get out of this stupid electric chair before they can react from the control room.

You were not sure if the pep talk was helping, the minutes of interrogation seemed to stretch and the more time you spent here the harder it was getting out.

There was something strange about his expression you have not noticed before, however now it was more prominent from the closer angle, he was shifting closer and closer to you during the interrogation.

Something flashed in his eyes, understanding of sort. You were not sure what it meant but surely it wasn’t anything good. The cogs in his brain were moving faster again than before. Whatever Hux was brewing inside his clever head, Maker, you didn’t want to know what cruel fate he was planning for you.

“I have a datapad in my office, bring it.” Hux was not talking to you, his gaze was stuck on the darkened window, he was commanding the officer on the other side to basically abandon his post. Great news but also not really.

Minutes go by and Hux seems to not move a bit, or was it seconds? Your anxiety was ranking up, they had nothing on you, Poe escaped before you with the information so you were sure there won't be any footage of your comrade being tortured but what was on the datapad was still a mystery to you.

“I will get you out.” These words pierced the silence, not loud enough to be heard on any microphone. It was more of a whisper, directed right into your ear, his proximity now apparent.

The General would get you out? General Hux would get YOU out? They must have administered some hallucinogens to your system already, this whole situation was too impossible to comprehend.

“We have to be quick though. I need you to headbut me, the cameras in this room are still functioning so we have to give them something.”

And you do so, your head falls back before you bring great force into the motion. Your head goes slamming into his, red hair mixing with yours in the process until you hurt just like he does. He is no longer close to you, stepping away to proceed the pain he gives you a pained expression. The stage is set once again.

“You rebel scum!” His rich voice booms through the room, filling it and echoing back to you once more. And his figure is in motion again, unlocking your restraints with a slight push of a button, dragging you to your feet before locking your hands in another cuffs.

It was so swift you couldn’t even proceed a single thought. Was he truly getting you out ? Or was it another scheme to get you to break? But again before you could use your brain Armitage was already pushing you into the hallway.

The hallway was empty just like the next one and the one that followed and by the fourth turn you realized Armitage was successfully avoiding corridors with officers in them. The further both of you walked the more sure you were he truly was going to set you free. And you were not wrong, one way or another you would get out of here.

With the next turn you could feel the redhead’s steps halting and you soon recognized hurried steps from the end of the hallway. You were sure of it soon, there was someone at the end of the hallway, the outline familiar but too far to distinguish them properly. But the closer they got, the more you recognized him. Your idiotic pilot, someone you could not be happier to see in such a situation.

“I came to save you.” His face was beaming, sweat still clinging to his pretty face but you were glad he was here. He must have been sprinting around in the maze of same looking halls for some time, the sweat clinged to him just like the red in his cheeks.

“Maker, and I thought you were just going to forget about me.” Poe did appreciate the sarcasm for a moment before he noticed you had a little someone with you. The little someone literally being General Hux, his number one enemy, quite literally his nemesis in some sense. You knew of the history between them, Poe taunting the red head too often on missions they crossed paths on. This could end only poorly and you were stuck in between.

Your favorite pilot, only on the occasions he actually properly piloted or came to save your ass like in this moment, was too dumbfounded from this predicament, all he could do was point a finger at your unwelcome guest, which you deemed better than pointing a blaster at him.

“Yeah, I noticed I had a pretty little redheaded shadow, Dameron.” Your eyes shifted to the ship, ready to take off with you if your dear pilot could get his brain back to functioning on time. “Now get us out of here.”

This seemed to pull Poe out of the trance but he still scolded and muttered under his breath what you simply deemed as curses to the redhead behind you. Even Armitage didn’t stand idle, in the meantime he unlocked the cuff with a buzzing sound before it clanked on the metal floor. In the end you could make it out alive, enemies or not if they were not speaking to each other all was fine.

“Let’s go.”

“What?” You could hear that he didn’t move even by a step. Did this man truly believe you would leave him here? You already figured it out, that this scared and at the same time brave man was the one, the one who was sending encrypted data to the Resistance, that he was the spy whose data you were collecting, whom you had contact for so long.

“Let’s go, we have to take off before the alarms go off.” As if telepathy between the two of you worked, maybe by the mysterious force itself or just the universe decided to align the stars for the two of you, he understood too.

“I am not going with you.” The fear and the uncertainty was too strong for Armitage to withstand. Everything was always so simple to him, the plan was set for him a long time ago by his father and now he had an option to leave it all behind. He knew the First Order would go crumbling down, it was inevitable with how things were now. However, he still hoped everything he was building for himself would stay somehow the same even with his efforts to undermine everything else.

“They are going to kill you.”

“No, I will-”

“It doesn't matter who you do. We both know the competition in the First Order is too fierce, one mistake and you are not needed anymore.” He knew you were right, even Poe was aware of that, but it didn’t change anything on how he didn’t want to admit it. Not being needed after one small mistake over the amount of achievements he brought to the First Order not just as General but visionary.

“Letting someone from the Resistance is already bad but losing one of its Vice Admirals? Death sentence.”

“Yes. I am well aware of this predicament, however-”

“However, you are coming with us. That’s final.”

The words of disagreement were stuck in his throat, on one side he was glad to have an available route out but on the other he couldn’t simply abandon his career. It was his everything, he worked hard to get where he was now and to simply lose it would probably hurt more than a blaster strike to the chest. That was a lie, he was sure of it and it would be foolish of him to not take your offer. Well, it actually sounded more like an order.

“Fine.” If he was meant to leave it seemed it was somehow always meant to be with someone like you.

And finally all of you were ready for a take off, Poe was still booting some things in his pilot seat while you were kind enough to not point out the vein popping in his neck. You would have to have a talk with Poe about this whole escapade but now was not the time or a place. Fingers pushing on the familiar controls, switching switches for a quicker take off your mind was a bit busy counting down seconds before you would hear the loud alarm indicating prisoner on the loose.

“Thank you, trully.” His voice made you mind stop for a second before you looked at him. You have not seen such a look on him yet, it was new and refreshing. An honest expression with a grateful small smile tugging on his lips.

“Don’t mention it but you should get used to people helping each other.” This answer confused him a bit and you enjoyed the sight a lot. But the ship was ready to leave, interrupting the moment. The vibration from the motor buzzed through your whole body while you took the co-pilot place next to Poe. The leather seat reminds you that just a few moments ago you were in a similar one, strapped to a completely metal one and just a few steps from death’s door. Years before it would have scared you but now you took it like bread, like a normal day in the life of the Resistance fighter.

“We are going back to the Resistance.” You turned around, shooting him a quick smirk. “And you are going to help us defeat the First Order.” Your tone was cold now, in a mere seconds turning back to the Vice Admiral you were expected to be and something arose in the redhead. The game continued, this time not about you escaping him but more of a chase of professional matters.

“Gladly.” His ambitions still flared but if he couldn’t achieve it with the First Order there is no reason not to try it with the Resistance while striking down his enemies and old colleagues. You could understand his ambitions and perfectionism from your own standpoint, hard worker yourself you had similar plans for your future, for your rank. You strived for professionalism just like he always did. It made you two too similar to ignore but at the same time opposite with your ideals clashing. It was still quite comforting, knowing there is someone who could understand your ambitions.

#armitage hux x reader #general hux x reader #star wars fanfiction #isa writes #request answered

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fbfh · 2 years

Text

you're mine (and I'm yours) - scott mccall x witch!mate!reader hcs

wc: 4k

genre: soulmate au sort of, lowkey a sabrina the teenage witch au (hilda and zelda are your aunts) bc I'm in my 90s witchy whimsigothic era,

summary: trying to balance your newly realized powers as a young witch with a social life and starting at a new school is a lot to handle, and you're thrown for a huge curveball when the hot werewolf on the lacrosse team forms a mate bond with you, dragging both of you into each others secret worlds

warnings: not proof read, some predator/prey dynamics bc scott is a literal werewolf, scott realizes he's being kind of creepy towards you but you can tell he's not human so you get it yk, you pass out bc you're a tad overwhelmed, scott is very posessive, scott is very clingy, scott is so fucking down bad for you, implied size difference (specifically he has bigass hands), astral projection/eavesdropping through dreams, awkward mate talk with Derek and Scott, mention of future conversations about ruts but otherwise sfw, your Aunt Hilda and Salem both make dog jokes at Scott but he takes them in stride, I think that's it??

song rec: we belong together - ritchie valens, wereowl - sj tucker, wolf bite - owl city, head over feet - alanis morissette, also here's an outfit but it's totally optional lmao

a/n: had this in the works for a while!! It spiraled out of control lol,, I was debating using this as an outline but it's already pretty long and I'm coming out of a slump so I'll take what I can get lol but if yall like this def expect more of scott x whimsigothic witch reader bc I have SO many ideas lol ALSO for your consideration chris flemming's take on witch summer, and scott introduces himself to you like skunk from a diy basement show ((also tagging people on the movie/tv show au tag list and the omegaverse tag list bc of the genre so if you don't know why you're getting tagged in a teen wolf fic that's why lol))

@yesv01 @almostjollypizza @fictionalcomforts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @urmum-xoxo @raajali3 @paige-creates @lubsana @demirunner @almostjollypizza @mystic-writings @babiesimagines @lizziebitch33 @jacksondeeznuts @hopefullhearts @justbookworm @Asunnyhunny @cowboylikekelsey

You and your family have always been somewhat quiet, kept to yourselves

In spite of some family members more… flashy joie de vivre

And in spite of the fact that you’re all at least a little eccentric

You really do try to keep to yourselves

You just want a chill, peaceful existence

You’re not looking for trouble

Do no harm take no shit kind of energy

A lot of this is due to the fact that almost everyone in your family are witches

You have a cousin who’s a sorcerer that lives out in tallahassee

But besides that

You’re pretty much all witches

Your mom and dad live in michigan, often visiting family in the hudson valley or up in northern new england

Quiet places where no one will look too closely at private lowkey eccentric people

Once your magic and clairvoyant powers started to develop on your 16th birthday, you move in with your two aunts in northern california

A small town called beacon hills

Everyone knew figuring out a balance between learning about your powers and heritage and maintaining a normal social life was going to be hard

Your aunts arranged a split schedule for you

You’d homeschool half the week to give you more time and freedom to learn your craft

And go to the public high school half the week

Hybrid schooling isn’t exactly conventional, but nothing about your family really is

The school board apparently weren’t very pro on this but your aunts managed to convince them

So for the first half of the week, everything goes fine

You’re doing your homework as fast as you can and learning so much about your powers

You’ve been studying auras and energy reading

Once you get the hang of it, you find it’s hard to shut it off

The second half of the week surprisingly also goes okay

At first

Your first day at beacon hills high, you get a tour from a guy named Stiles who is either taking way too much or not enough adderall

He seems a little sidetracked and you get the impression he has a lot going on outside of school

You’re also approached by a girl named Allison and her friend Lydia

Allison tells you that she’s somewhat new to beacon hills too, and you form a sort of bond over that

You wonder if she’s a fire sign, you immediately pick up on a strong warrior/fighter type of energy from her

Lydia is really nice too, and you can tell she’s a lot smarter than she lets on

You pick up an unusual energy from Lydia, something tugging at your gut and poking the corners of your mind, but it doesn't feel threatening so you brush it off

You sense Stiles nearby and turn your head, seeing him talk with a lanky blonde dude

Your stomach drops

There is something very weird about this guy

You can feel a really distinct energy but you can't put it into words

You squint, wondering what his name is

You're getting a lot of vowels, something sort of old, biblical??

Eventually your attention is pulled back to Allison

"Were you staring at Isaac?"

Isaac

That makes sense

"Uh, yeah no, I just spaced out for a second…"

You get that bubbling feeling that something is coming really quickly

"Come on, we should get to class." You drag them away, walking in front of them

You're right once again, as Scott McCall rounds the corner looking for Stiles and Isaac

"Hey we need to-"

He cuts himself off, distracted by the scent he picked up

It's different from any other scent he's ever encountered

It's sweet and electric, like the first sip of your favorite soda

"Scott?" Stiles asks

He picks it up again, this time on Stiles

He leans closer, sniffing him like a bloodhound

He shoves his nose in Stiles neck, then makes his way down his torso and over to his wrist as Stiles protests

Stiles’s scent immediately overwhelms the new one and Scott recoils

"Dude, don't do that in public!" He hisses, catching the strange looks from the students passing by them

"Or in private- or ever!" He corrects

He looks back at Scott, whose pupils are super dilated

"What… what was that?" Scott wonders regarding the intoxicating scent

"Yeah, I was going to ask you the same thing," Stiles grumbles, thrown off by the odd (and almost intimate) gesture

For the rest of the day, whenever he starts to clear his head, he'll catch that scent again, completely pulling his focus away

Meanwhile, you've found at least 3 people with that same weird energy as Isaac

It doesn't feel bad, not right away at least

But it's really really strong

It’s strange and overwhelming

Between how exhausted you are from all your magic lessons and how hard it was to keep your powers under control at school

AND the fact that you spent basically all day half blinded by people’s auras and energy

You’re totally exhausted

And you don't have time to unpack that today

So naturally as soon as you start to sense that weird energy

Especially that one particularly strong source of it

You pivot and head the other way

You're sure Lydia and Allison must think you're crazy by now but they don't seem to be too phased

Much like with Stiles, you get the sense they’ve seen a lot of weirder shit

And your instincts are never wrong

You know, the whole psychic clairvoyant witch thing

So by the end of the day, you’ve avoided it thus far, and you start to head with Allison and Lydia to the parking lot

You stop suddenly,remembering you forgot your wand in your locker

There’s no way you can leave that at school, so you run back inside, telling them you’ll be right back

Meanwhile, Scott has spent all day chasing down every hint of that scent he possibly can

He’s about to give up when he smells it at the end of the hallway, just around the corner

He was on his way to lacrosse practice

But honestly he couldn’t care less about that right now

He starts running, desperate not to lose the scent again, or lose control

You tuck your wand somewhere safe, then you feel it seconds before it happens

The hair on the back of your neck stands up

Your stomach drops and you get that feeling that something is about to happen

And you feel the strong as fuck super intense energy barreling towards you

A strong chill runs down your body

You turn around right as Scott pins you to your locker, eyes glowing red and as big as the moon, pulse racing

He’s breathing hard, fanning warm over your face

And god, the world shifts and everything makes sense

A shiver runs down his spine, and yours in tandem, and he has to physically hold himself back from kissing you everywhere, from pressing his face into your skin to breathe in your intoxicating scent

The logical part of his brain, the human part is screaming at him not to scare you, stop being weird, at least introduce himself and ask for your name

But the primal part, the wolf part, is too loud

He didn’t know he could feel so protective, so possessive over someone without knowing them

His wolf brain insists he does know you, you’re each other’s…

Each other’s…

That’s it

You’re each other’s

You’re his and he’s yours

God, he’s yours

And he is drawn to you

It’s like you shoved a bear trap in his chest and are pulling him closer and closer by the chain

And he’d let you

He wants you to

Fuck he wants to kiss you

At the same time, you’re trying not to fall over from the sudden force of emotions this guy is feeling for you

You can physically feel how badly he wants you

How much he desires you

Like you’re the only thing that matters

And fuck that weird energy is radiating off of him so close to you

It’s definitely not bad or malicious

You can tell that much

But it’s really really fucking powerful and needs to be treated carefully

The combination of all these things is making you kind of dizzy

And when you look at him

Really snap out of your thoughts and look at the guy pinning you against the wall

Fuck

He’s hot

He’s really hot

His breath over your face in little puffs is hot

It’s all too much

You feel yourself start to fall

You pitch sideways into his arms, blacking out before you can say something or sit down

Scott catches you as you begin to slump against him

Everywhere you touch, he lights on fire

He holds you gently, nuzzling his face against you, finally allowing himself to bask in your addictive, intoxicating scent

You don’t respond to his touch, and he can sense your pulse slowing down

“Fuck!” he growls, snapping out of it and realizing you passed out

He sniffs you closer

You smell okay, so it's probably nothing serious

But he has to get you somewhere safe

“Scott?”

Stiles’s voice echoes down the hall

“Scott!” he sees Scott clinging to your unconscious body, eyes glowing and teeth bared

A low growl emanates from his throat as a warning and Stiles freezes in his tracks

He doesn’t think Scott has ever growled at him like that

He barks at Stiles to stay away from you on instinct

A moment passes and you still haven’t woken up yet

He starts to worry

“We need to get to a doctor,” he mutters, suddenly charging past Stiles, with you still in his grip

Stiles chases after him, making a mental note to talk to him about how fucking weird he’s being right now

One very tense jeep ride to Deaton’s later, you’re laying on a table slightly too small for you as Scott rambles, explaining how you passed out

Deaton’s not exactly sure why he’s examining a human and not an animal or supernatural creature, but Scott is way too worked up for him to be hung up on details

Derek had somehow gotten wind of what happened, and is waiting for Deaton to confirm you’re okay so he can give Scott the lecture of a fucking life time

He got a panicked call from Scott’s stupid friend, and now he has to clean up another one of their messes

He’s so ready to yell at Scott, but the second he walks into the building, he smells it

His stomach drops

He runs into the back, throwing open the door, and is overwhelmed by the smell of the mate bond freshly formed between Scott, and you, who’s still lying unconscious

He tries to drag Scott out of the room to talk, but Scott refuses to leave your side, growling and snapping at him

“Okay,” Derek says, “I really didn’t think I was going to have to give you the talk so soon, but…”

Stiles and Scott protest, while Deaton looks even more uncomfortable than he already had

“Not that talk!” Derek snaps, “...The mate talk.”

“The mate talk?” Scott asks, “Like…” his words hang unspoken in the air

Derek nods

“Yeah.”

Using every ounce of willpower in him, Scott manages to tear himself away from your side to step out of the room and talk to Derek, but he insists on standing right outside the door so he can watch you through the window, Stiles following behind him

He’s barely able to pay attention to what Derek is saying

He’s so preoccupied with you

You look so vulnerable on that examination table

It’s not like he thinks Deaton wouldn’t take great care of you or anything, he just wishes he was there to make sure first hand that you’re okay

He doesn’t like that he’s not next to you right now

It brings on a heartache, a devotion he hasn’t ever felt before

“For fucks sake, Scott, pay attention!” Derek snaps, realizing he’s been spacing out

“I’m listening!” Scott counters, and tries to focus on what Derek is telling him

He’s glad Stiles is there to retain the information he’s missing

It’s like his brain is a sponge that’s been soaking in a bucket full of you, it can’t hold on to anything else

He just wants you to be okay

In the depths of your sleep, you make a mental note to thank your aunts for giving you that book on astral projection (among many other witchy texts and spellbooks) for your birthday

You flex your hands, feeling them tingling warm with magic, then wiggle your feet, tingling the same way

You continue to gently separate your astral form from your corporeal form, and the dream you had been having shifts

You’re in what looks like the back office of a vet’s office, a guy in a lab coat stands near you looking concerned

Gently, slowly, you get up and creep towards the door

You watch a rugged looking man with dark hair, and that same energy, explain something seemingly important

“For fucks sake Scott, pay attention!”

You look over at Scott, who’s looking back at where you’re presumably still asleep in the back room, and the guy keeps explaining what’s going on

Mates are a rare connection, usually made by alphas, and it’s even more rare for an alpha to have a mate that’s not a werewolf, he tells Scott and Stiles

You look up at Scott

He’s a werewolf

And an alpha

That makes sense, you think, it confirms the feeling you’d had before but couldn’t put into words

With a fresh mate bond (which is what you have) being separated can be painful, and even fatal, so until this calms down you’re basically going to be joined at the hip

You’ll form a deep connection, possibly even some sort of telepathic bond, but most likely you’ll just need to spend enough time together, make sure you’re both doing okay

He’ll probably feel possessive and territorial over you, that’s normal, but it’s also important to keep those feelings in check

Scenting can help with that too

“There’s also the issue of, uh,” Derek looks around awkwardly

He knew he would need to explain ruts at some point, and now that Scott found his mate, he needs to tell him before he gets his first rut

But he feels like now is really not the time or place

“What?” Scott asks with a blank stare

He really has no idea what he’s getting into

“Come by my place this weekend, I’ll tell you then.”

“Okay,” he says, clearly antsy, glancing back at you, “if that’s everything can I-”

“Fine,” Derek sighs, warning him not to scare you, “and don’t come on too strong!”

Scott opens the door, rushing into the room

In an instant, you feel yourself getting pulled back to your body as the scene goes dark

You open your eyes, lying on the table, Scott right next to you

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says, breathing an obvious sigh of relief

“I’m… Scott, by the way,” he beams down at you, utter adoration obvious on his face

“I know,” you smile, turning to the others, “Can we have the room?”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and Stiles, Derek, and Deaton awkwardly shuffle out

You’re sure Derek will be able to hear everything you’re saying with the whole werewolf hearing thing, so you choose your words carefully, wanting to keep at least some cards close to your chest

You know there’s not much you’ll be able to hide from him, what with you being mates and all, but you’d like to be a little strategic about how you break some of this to him

He’s still gazing at you, beyond enamored, and it’s like his whole world has shifted

His center of gravity no longer rests an inch below his navel, now it’s wherever you are, and he feels himself swirling and orbiting around you

You’re the center of his universe

You take his much larger hand in yours and his chest squeezes as the breath is pulled from his lungs

He smiles again, he’s been doing that a lot more around you

“I know you’re a werewolf,” you start slowly

His stomach drops

“But it’s okay, I’m not freaked out or anything. I actually have something kind of weird to tell you too, but,” your eyes flick over to the door, “I don’t think this is really the ideal time or place.”

“Okay,” he breathes, waiting for you to continue so he can hear more of your voice, sweeter than honey and as soothing as a cozy blanket

“I know we can’t really be far apart because of the whole…” you motion between you two, “mate thing, so if you want we can go back to my place and catch each other up a little?”

He stares at you as you talk, focus split between your words and how wonderful it is to be around you, and a moment after you’re done he agrees

“Yeah, there’s probably a lot to talk about,” he says with a chuckle

On your way out to the car, you send an incoming spell to your aunts with a quick flick of your wand

It’s a simple spell that tells the recipient something’s coming, mixed with a little bit of the sender’s intention and sometimes a short message, so they can tell if it’s anything dangerous or not

The message you mutter under your breath is “big news, we’ll be home soon, get ready”

You tuck your wand back into your boot as Scott opens the door of Stiles’ jeep for you, helping you in and buckling your seatbelt for you

Your heart flutters a little at the gesture

Stiles gives you both a ride since he had been your ride over, now under significantly less stress than he had been during your previous drive to Deaton’s clinic

Scott is glued to your side the whole time, radiating heat against you

You’re both sitting in the back, and Stiles grumbles something light hearted about Scott already ditching him for you

A while later, Stiles drops both of you off at your house

It looks slightly out of place in beacon hills, with its looming victorian frame and tall turret protruding into the otherwise clear sky

Various lawn decorations and ornaments made of heavy metals and deep jewel tones (all enchanted and serving a purpose) decorate the yard, kept company by the occasional gnome

The inside, as Scott will soon find out, is decorated in a similar fashion

Deep, rich jewel tones with eclectic prints and patterns, heavy velvet drapes, and a lot of celestial imagery and detailing cover every room, with books and nicknacks tucked away anywhere there’s space for them

You can sense your aunts freaking out a little, catching a spell book flying across the room through the window

They’re not sure what kind of trouble you got in so soon, but they’re ready to do whatever needs to be done to help you out

You open the door, and everything stops in its tracks

Most of it was out of sight, but you see a few things that had been floating about drop to the floor or skitter to their place on a table in a way that your aunts hope is inconspicuous

They pause in their tracks about to greet you, when they see Scott

Both of your aunts, and the black cat sitting on the couch in front of a soap opera playing quietly on tv all stare at him curiously

After a moment, aunt Zelda’s eyes go wide in understanding, and she nudges Hilda, who catches on as well as you greet each other

Aunt Zelda addresses you, happy that your home, “and who is this?” she asks, motioning towards Scott

You smile

“Aunt Hilda, Aunt Zelda, this is Scott. He’s my boyfriend,” you say

Scott almost feels dizzy

He really likes being called your boyfriend, much more than he thought he could

He wishes he could hear you say it again

“He’s a werewolf.” you state simply

Scott’s eyes flare, and he looks down at you, what the fuck, dude?? Written all over his face

“Oh,” your Aunt Zelda says, trying to sound surprised

“Is he?” Hilda says rhetorically

“So, he’s already familiar with all kinds of magic and supernatural stuff. It’s nothing new.”

They let out a sigh of relief, and all the magic that had been ground to a halt flies back to life

A pot in the kitchen starts stirring itself, the items that had been flying around make their way back to their places on shelves and drawers, a broom in the hallway begins to sweep up by itself

Scott is sure the shock is evident on his face and you giggle, sounding like music from the heavens

“Scott, these are my aunts, Hilda and Zelda. They’re witches.”

“Oh,” he says, nodding

That makes more sense

“And I am also a witch. So,” you turn between Scott and your aunts, taking out your wand and flicking it with a swish. The book on the table in front of them flips a few pages, and the letters rearrange themselves with a glimmer into the word mates. Their eyes widen in understanding. “Now that all the cards are on the table, Scott and I have some homework to do, so we’re going to catch up a little and take care of that.”

“Sure,” Zelda says with a smile, “let us know if you need anything, Scott.”

“Peanut butter is in the pantry, and I think we have some bone broth in the freezer if you want to-” Hilda says, starting to make a gnawing motion before Zelda smacks her arm

You’d expect nothing less, and you’re relieved as Scott chuckles at the dog jokes

You start to bring him through the living room past the couch to go up to your room and talk a little

You’re a witch

You have a wand and (presumably) spell books and can do literal magic

Okay, he can totally handle that

He’s dealt with weirder stuff

Honestly, he can feel deep in his bones that nothing can pull him away from you

This is nothing more than a slight curve ball

And he actually thinks it’s really fucking cool

He’s processing what he’s seen since entering your house, and it makes sense, he thinks

He’s sure he can handle this, he doubts after all that there’s anything else in the world that could shock him

You pass by the couch, and he hears a deeper voice let out a petulant whine

He turns his head, seeing the black cat who’s been sitting on your couch the whole time

“Is he going to make the whole house smell like wet dog?”

The cat just spoke

“Gag me.” he groans with a roll of his eyes

“Salem!” you exclaim, dragging Scott away

Okay, maybe that will take some getting used to

“Sorry about him,” you say as trails after you up the stairs. Your voice is low and intimate, and he feels that deep connection to you again

Everything in him pulls him towards you, towards you warm embrace

Then you gently hold his arm to guide him into your room, flashing a sweet smile his way that makes his chest squeeze and his stomach flip

He’s sure he can handle anything as long as he has you

#scott mccall x reader #teen wolf x reader #scott mccall #teen wolf #scott mccall x witch!reader #witch!reader

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absurdthirst · 1 year

Text

Finding the Right Note {Country Star!Jack Daniels x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: Jack Daniel is a flirt, vaginal sex, angst, derogatory name calling, misplaced anger, mentions of alcoholism, groveling, face slapping, mentions of pregnancy

Comments: Country music star Jack Daniels strides into the bar you are performing in. Looking for an opening act for his upcoming tour, he decides you are just what he wants. Until your star might outshine his.

Co-written by @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Agent Whiskey MasterList ||

Jack walks into the bar, it’s bustling for a Wednesday night and he’s desperate for a drink after such a long day. His record label is giving him shit for not booking an opening act just yet. He hasn’t found the right one and he’s pushing them by delaying but damn, he’s been in the industry long enough to get the final say on who opens for him. He saddles up to the bar and orders a whiskey, thanking the bartender and once he’s got his drink, the crowd starts to cheer as the stage lights go off. It’s loud for a few moments until you walk out on stage.

You exhale shakily, always nervous before you take the stage, but once you start to sing, the nerves fade away. You smile at the crowd as the music starts and you begin your set.

She’s a fucking angel. Glass halfway to his lips, Jack stops, turning from the bar to stare at the stage behind him. It’s soulful and passionate. Fun and flirty once the hook drops and the beat turns up. Jack’s eyes flutter around the crowd and he nods, watching them get into the act. She’s perfect. Turning back to the bartender. “Who’s up on stage?” He asks. “What’s her name?”

The bartender gives your name and Jack turns his attention back to you. You sway your hips as you sing, putting your all into the music. Your passion is clear and you love this gig. The owner had heard you busking on the street and offered you the job as the singer for his bar. It’s a great gig, good pay, but it’s not what you want. You want to make music, tour the world, and let people hear your songs. It hasn’t happened yet, even after sending your demos in to every record company but no luck yet. You don’t notice the famous country singer sitting at the bar watching you with rapture as you continue singing.

Jack watches your performance with an excitement that he’s not felt in years. His whiskey all but forgotten as he starts to sing along to the chorus the second time around. Your energy is unmatched and he can tell you want to glide around the small stage if you had enough room. You’d be magnificent on a big stage. Your last line is belted out, giving it everything you have and it’s perfect, making you grin when the last note of the song hits and you wave your hand holding the pick up. “Give it up for the band!”

Your set seems to fly by as you sing your heart out and you saddle up to the bar once you’ve finished, gesturing for the bartender to get you your usual. “It’s on my tab.” Jack says as he sits beside you and you turn to face him.

“Thank you. Wait…aren’t you- what are you doing in a place like this?” You ask him with a chuckle.

Jack shrugs slightly and his fingers slide around his own glass. “Was plannin’ on getting drunk, but now I’m thinkin’ about business.” He admits. “How long you been tryin’ to break out?” He asks as the bartender comes over and slides your drink in front of you.

You blow out a breath, shaking your head, “way too long. Could’ve recorded enough material for three or four albums by now but it’s hard to get big in a town full of singers.” You chuckle and pick up your drink, lifting it towards Jack. “To music.” You toast and Jack clinks his glass against yours.

“To music.” Jack takes a sip of his whiskey and takes a hard look at you. You don’t look like the typical worn out ‘trying to make it big’ country singer. Where up close the evidence of hard partying and too much alcohol is evident. “Got something I can listen to?” He asks, wanting to hear the quality of your studio session in addition to the live performance he just witnessed.

You nod, taking your phone out, and you know it’s something else for you to be asking him to listen to your music but when he’s asking you, you’re not gonna turn him down. You select what you think is your best song and hand him the phone to listen to it.

The noise in the bar is loud, but not loud enough that he can’t hear the pure potential in the music. The notes shine through clearly and he can hear the enthusiasm in your voice.

The noise in the bar is loud, but not enough that he can’t hear the pure potential in the music. The notes shine through clearly and he can hear the enthusiasm in your voice.

“Can you send me that?” He asks as he hands you back the phone. “I want to send that to my manager.”

Your mouth falls open but you won’t turn him down. You hand the phone to him to put his number in, shocked that Jack Daniels wants your demo. You hit send and you shake your head, a chuckle escaping your lips. “I- I can’t believe you’re here and you want my music.”

“Lookin’ for an opening act for my upcoming tour.” Jack tells you, smirking at the way your mouth drops open in shock. “Haven’t found anyone I liked until now.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “you’re shittin’ me.” You ask and his chuckle warms you, “I ain’t shittin’ you baby. I wanna have you open my show.” He tells you and you shake your head, “if you want me, I’m yours.”

“You’re gonna have to play for my people.” Jack tosses back the rest of his drink and grins at you. “You ready for that?”

You nod, “I’ll do it. You tell me the time and place.” You tell him and he throws some cash down to pay for his drink. “I’ll wait for the call.” You wink and sip your drink, heart pounding as you think of what this could lead to.

For the first time in a long time, Jack doesn’t have a second drink. Instead he’s sending the song to his manager and typing out a text telling him that he’s found his opening act. When he sends it off he smirks at you. “Your entire world’s about to change, sugar.”

****

True to his word, you got a call the next day about opening for Jack Daniels and a few weeks later, you sublet your apartment and put your things in storage. Packing your clothes for the tour and your guitar, you are excited, practically buzzing and the first stop is Atlanta. A big city and a big arena for the biggest star in country right now. You’re checked into your hotel and whisked over to the venue for the sound check before Jack arrivals. Little do you know he’s already arrived when you’re finishing your sound check until you hear his applause. “Damn good song, little lady.” He praises and you fluster, glancing around at the crew. “Thank you. I- I wrote that one when I was eighteen and thinking the world would treat me right.”

Jack grins, propping his hands on his hips. “It’s funny how that happens, ain’t it?” He’s got his own share of problems, that is well documented in all the articles written about him. “I think that song might be the best damn thing I’ve heard for a long time.”

You fluster and duck your head, “you flatter me, Daniels. Says the five time Grammy award winner.” You scoff softly and shake your head as you fiddle with the strings of your guitar. “First big show of the tour. You ready?” You ask him as you hand the guitar off to the stage hand.

“I am.” Jack nods, smirking slightly. “Nothing like bein’ on the road. The crowds, the tour buses, the after parties.” He chuckles and waggles his brows.

You have heard rumors about his after parties. They go hard and you’re not sure you want to get involved in them every night. You’re here to get your career started and he’s one of the biggest stars in the world. You need to focus…especially when he turns those gorgeous brown eyes on you. You make your way off of the stage to give him the time to sound check and you come face to face with him when he meets you halfway.

“You ready?” He turns the question on you and you nod, “fucking nervous but I’m ready.” His chuckle warms you and you know that’s dangerous, especially when he leans in closer to whisper in your ear.

“You’re gonna be a fucking star, baby.” He promises and leans back.

Your heart pounds as you stare at him and the stage manager calls out, “Jack, time to check your mics.”

Jack winks at you, “see you later, sugar,” and he walks past you to make his way out onto the stage.

Jack’s sound check is more of a formality than anything else but he does run through one of the newer songs on his recently released album. Just to make sure that it sounds okay since it’s the first time being played in a stadium. He sees you watching him and shows off for good measure, just to let you know that he’s still got it in him. When he’s done, he walks over to you and the roadie hands him his standard whiskey over ice. “Whatcha think? Sound okay?”

You nod, eying the drink in his hand but who are you to judge? Everyone has their pre-show routines. “Your fans are gonna love it. Your new album…it’s fantastic. I’m excited to see the great Jack Daniels perform.” You smirk and cross your arms, “you got any tips?”

“Don’t show your underwear, and never let a fan come up on stage without you inviting them.” He tells you seriously before taking a sip. “Had one fan grope me and then turn around and sue me for “emotional manipulation”. Said I led her on because I was obviously singing to her in my songs and then publicly spurned her.”

You wince, “your fans are crazy.” You shake your head, having heard about his “Jack Pack” fan club. You sigh, “I doubt my popularity will lead to fans that crazy. It just shows how damn famous you are.” You tease him softly and he snorts, looking down at his drink. “It’s a blessin’ and a curse.” You can understand that. “Well, good luck. I’ll see you before the show. I better go get something to eat and glam myself up.”

“Don’t do too much more than you are now.” Jack tells you with a wink. “Otherwise you’re libel to upstage the main headliner.” You’re gorgeous and with your upbeat smile and excitement, the crowd is going to eat you up. Jack Daniels has done found himself the next country music star.

****

Your adrenaline is high once you come off of stage, your body buzzing as you grab the water you have waiting for you and Jack is standing there, his hands still clapping your performance. “Oh my God.” You gasp after downing the bottle. “That was - wow.”

“How’s it feel knowing you just played your first of many shows?” Jack demands, beaming at your breathless laughter and joy. He remembers that exhilaration, even though it had long since faded into the worry that he was washed up. Past his prime, despite his people saying that wasn’t the case. They were going to milk him until his teat was dry and move on to someone else.

You shake your head in amazement, “incredible. I- I never imagined - thank you.” You surge forward to wrap your arms around him, hugging him close. “I owe you everything.” You tell him and he chuckles, rubbing your back, “just make me proud.” He says and you nod, stepping back. Soon enough, he’s making his way onto stage, the crowd roaring and you watch him from the side of the sound desk, in awe of his talent.

Jack might have a little more oomph in his performance. He tells himself it’s because it’s the kickoff of another tour, that he’s energetic because of that and not because he’s sure you are watching his performance. Showing off for you for over two hours, the crowd roars as the lights dim and he walks off stage to cheers of demands for him to do an encore. He’s sweaty and red faced as he strides up to you and takes your water to drink, sending you a wink before he downs it.

Your mouth goes dry, wishing you had the water he just finished, and your stomach twists with attraction to him. His wink and the sweat coating him has you aching for him but you know you can’t fuck this opportunity up. It’s important and can make your career. Fucking Jack Daniels will be short lived. A career in music could be the rest of your life. The roar of the crowd is deafening as he finishes his encore and you watch him come off of the stage, taking the towel from the stage hand.

After the concert, Jack has his meet and greets. VIP guests who have paid a lot of money to see him, but he also goes out to sign autographs for those that waited for him. Taking time to appreciate his fans and when he spots you, he motions you over. “Ya’ll want her signature too.” He tells them with a grin. “She’s gonna blow up and you can say you met her first!”

You fluster and some fans take his word and you sign their papers. You are soon escorted by Jack’s security to the bus and you are shuffled onto the bus with a sweaty Jack. His band applauds and you follow suit, exhausted but on top of the world as the bus starts to move to the next city.

“So, how was the first show?” Jack demands, pouring both of you a drink rather than jumping in the shower like he knows he should. You have a bus, but he had them put you on his for tonight so you could get to know one another better. If you say no, there’s another bed to sleep on. He hands you the glass and clinks his against it. “To fame and fortune.”

You take a sip of the whiskey, leaning back to look at Jack as he throws his arm over the back of the sofa he’s sitting on as the bus starts to move. “To your fame and fortune.” You counter and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Yours too, sugar. Tonight was the first night of the rest of your career.”

You smile softly, setting your drink down. “I hope so. Tonight was…it was exhilarating. The high you get off of it - I can’t wait to do it again tomorrow.”

“Nothing like it, is there?” He chuckles and sets his drink down. Leaning in and watching your eyes widen slightly. “I’ve only found one way to really burn off this energy.”

You swallow harshly as he leans a little closer, your eyes dropping down to his lips as he licks them clean of the remnants of whiskey. You bite your lip, leaning back a little to catch your breath. “What’s that?” You ask, hating how breathy you sound as your heart thumps. Your attraction to him rearing its head again.

“Find the prettiest girl I can, take her to bed and make her forget everything but screamin’ my name.” It’s not every night but often enough that he didn’t want to count bodies. But right now, his eyes are on you.

His words and his dark gaze makes you shiver and your eyes flit over to the kitchenette before you glance back at him. “You didn’t find the prettiest girl tonight to take to bed…you’re here with me?” You question, hoping you are predicting his answer correctly but this allows you an exit strategy if you’re wrong about the lust in his eyes.

“Oh but I did find the prettiest girl.” He argues, stepping closer. “Now I know that I’m sweaty, sugar, but I can shower before I get sweaty again.” He offers. Knowing that some wouldn’t like it but he feels like he is going to be taken like he is with you. Especially since you are musky from your own set.

You bite your lip, reminding yourself again of your promise to not fuck this opportunity up, especially with sex, but he’s standing there with that ridiculously sexy smirk and your resolve crumbles. You step towards him, your fingers playing with the buttons of this shirt. “Seeing as we are sharing this bus, I think the best thing to do is to shower together. However, it’s very small in the shower so you’d have to press up against me…is that something you’d be okay with?”

“Baby, I’d love nothing more than to press against you and keep pressing against you until I hear how my name sounds coming from your pretty lips.” He wraps his hand around your neck and drags you close to kiss you.

You let him drag you against him, your lips pressing against his and your hands slide up to grip the collar of his shirt. His tongue quickly slides along your lower lip and you grant him the access he seeks. Jack’s free hand caresses your waist and slides down to squeeze your ass, making you moan. Your back is soon pressed against the counter of the kitchenette and you know it’s worth the risk. Just this kiss is worth risking it all.

Jack groans into your mouth, finding it even sexier that you are matching him for passion. It’s not one sided where Jack is once again putting on a performance for someone while they melt in surprise. Your own fingers roam over his body until you are starting to unbutton his shirt and slide it off of him.

You caress his chest, sticky with dried sweat but you love it. You slide your tongue against his and his hands reach for the hem of your dress, helping you shift to pull it off of you, exposing your tits and lace underwear to his dark gaze. “Jack.” You whimper when he kisses along your throat.

“You wanna shower, sugar?” Jack asks, knowing the driver won’t be coming back to where you are and you’re the only two on the bus. Jack has a rule about not bothering him unless he invites someone on. Needing the time to unwind. His hands dip under your panties to pull them the down around your thighs.

His hands caress your thighs and you’re not sure you can wait to shower and clean off. He’s too intoxicating and you whimper when his fingers slide between your folds. “Shower after.” You decide, reaching down to squeeze him through his jeans, the obnoxiously large belt buckle hindering your touch.

Jack groans, smirking when he does. “I like the way you think. I want to see if you are as tight as I imagined you would be.” He groans again when you manage to get his buckle undone. “We’ll have our own private show.”

You reach in to pull his cock out of his tight jeans and you groan at the thickness of him. “Shit, Jack. You - that’s gonna be a stretch. It’s - it’s been a while.” You admit and let go of him so you can spit in your palm, gripping him again and starting to pump his length.

“That’s a good thing, ain’t it?” He groans, cock twitching in your hand and he doesn’t want to admit how long it’s been for him. He’s fucked plenty, but when he’s not on tour or in the studio, it’s a different story. “You want to see my bus bedroom?” He asks, unclipping your bra and pulling it off your tits so he can palm them.

You arch into his touch, your fingers squeezing his cock, and you moan when he pinches your nipples. “Yes. Show me.” You plead, letting go of him so he can escort you to the bedroom.

You run into several things, a counter, a door frame. Jack guiding you back while trying to kiss you. Eager to see you spread out on his bed. Your own fingers working on his shirt and dragging it over his shoulders.

You manage to get his shirt off just as you are laying down on his bed and you drag him down on top of you. “Come on baby. Fuck me.” You beg, the adrenaline still pulsing inside of you. “You have a condom?” You ask breathlessly.

“I do.” Jack reaches for the small built in shelf and pops the door open. Fumbling around inside for one of the many foil packets stashed there. “No warm up? Just straight to riding?”

You whimper when his fingers find your clit, “yes. Let me - I want to ride you.” You push on his chest, wanting to feel him inside of you. You don’t care about foreplay, you want the stretch. You want to feel something, you want to feel all of him. “Baby, let me ride you. Come on cowboy.”

Shucking his boots and jeans comes with a few curses and giggles but he is finally flat on his back with his cock curled up against his stomach, “come on, sugar.” He growls, reaching for your hip. “Put the condom on me and take me for a ride.”

You nod, slithering up his body to straddle his thighs and you rip open the condom. You roll it down his length and squeeze his cock. Shifting closer to line yourself up with his length, biting your lip as you start to sink down onto him.

“That’s it sugar, that’s it.” Jack pants. “Holy fuck you are as tight as a small glove on a giants hand.” His toes curl and his back arches slightly when you squeeze him inside the warmth of your velvet walls. “Holy fuck, holy shit girl.”

His words take your breath away and you gasp as you slowly sink down on him. A few moments later, you have his cock fully inside of you and you don’t move, closing your eyes for a few moments to collect yourself. “Shit. You are stretching me out, Daniels.” You declare as you caress his chest, giving you another moment until you lift your hips, starting to move on top of him.

He loves that you get right to it. Soon your hips are rolling and his own are struggling to stay put on the bed. The squeaks are covered by the sounds of the bus rolling down the road and he groans your name.

Hearing him moan your name has your body shaking. Your nails scratch his chest as you ride his cock, rolling your hips and grinding down onto him. “Fuck, Jack. You feel so good. So damn good.” You pant.

“You gonna cum?” Jack slides his hand down to cover your stomach and his thumb finds your clit. Rubbing harshly in a tight pattern to match the roll of your hips. “Gonna soak ‘ol Jack?”

You nod, shifting to lean back, your hands on his knees as you find the angle that has you tossing your head back. His thumb rubbing your clit as you grind down onto him. “Gonna cum. Gonna - fuck.” You cry out, clamping down on him and you squeeze your eyes shut as your mouth falls open.

Jack hisses, his eyes nearly rolling back at how good you feel around his cock. His thumb keeps pressing, keeps rolling and he makes sure that he bucks his hips up harshly enough to move you as you cum.

His thumb becomes too much and you reach down to grab his hand, bringing it to your chest so he can feel your thumping heart. You still for a moment, just relishing the moment and the haze of your orgasm. “Fuck, I want more.” You tell him, reaching for his hand to balance yourself so you can start to ride him again.

Jack chuckles. “Like a girl who knows what she needs.” He moans when your hand squeezes his and he watches your tits bounce. “Fuck, look at you, thought about this the entire time you were up on stage.”

To hear him say that has your pussy clenching around him, and you bend down to press your lips against his, changing the angle. “Thought about this while you were on stage. So fucking sexy. Strutting around like you owned the fucking arena. Those women screaming your name but it’s me who you wanted to ride you.” You murmur against his jaw.

“Fuck yes, I wanted you to ride me.” He groans against and slaps your ass, turning his head to capture your lips with his own again. Needing to kiss you, to slide his tongue against yours. Hoping that he can last long enough for you to cum again.

The angle you are rocking back onto his cock in has his coarse hair rubbing against your clit and it’s enough to have you panting into his mouth. “Fuck baby. So good. Feel so good.” You whine against his jaw before you kiss him again, so close to another orgasm. When he shifts to brace his feet on the bed, his cock pushing deeper inside of you as he rocks his hips up, you fall apart again. Clamping down on his cock and soaking his length as you squeal into his mouth.

Jack groans, holding your hips tight as he rocks up into you. “Fuck baby, that’s it, cream all over Jack’s cock.” He pants. “Knew you’d do so good for me. Every man there wanted to fuck you but I’m the one buried balls deep, about to explode.” He chokes out a cry a few sharp thrusts later and grinds as deep as he can. Holding still and grunting as ropes of cum spill into the condom.

You slump against him, enjoying the way he groans your name, his cock twitching inside of you. “Fuck, that’s good. So good.” You murmur, kissing along his neck, and you reach up to brush his damp hair out of his face. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.” You tease breathlessly.

You slump against him, enjoying the way he groans your name, his cock twitching inside of you. “I don’t mind showering together. We have seen each other naked. Washing isn’t much to worry about now.” You chuckle softly and enjoy the way he caresses your back. “Plus I can’t get on the other bus.” You smirk and you caress him one last time before you shift off of him, gripping the base of his cock to make sure the condom doesn’t come off.

“Nope.” He chuckles quietly and sits up. “Although if you don’t like the idea of sharin’ a bed, there’s another you can sleep in.” He won’t make you share a bed with him if you don’t want. You might want to decompress.

You nod, “I get the feeling you aren’t one for sleeping all night and I need to be on top of my game if I am to make the most of the opportunity you’ve given me. I’ll sleep in the other bed but come on, let’s shower.” You shift off of the bed and make your way to the tiny bathroom, turning on the water and stepping into the cubicle while Jack deals with the condom.

Jack ties the condom and tosses it in the wastebasket, deciding not to do his normal routine in dealing with it. He joins you and grins as he steps into the spray with you. “Best thing after a concert is a hot shower.”

You tilt your head back under the hot water, closing your eyes as you let the water flow over you, reaching for the body wash but Jack soon snatches it out of your hand so he can begin to wash you. “What a gentleman.” You coo, liking the feel of his hands on your body.

“Easiest way to learn a woman.” Jack hums against your neck, sliding his soapy hands down your stomach and back up over your breasts. He squeezes your tits playfully. “What do you think?”

You let him clean you up, his touch playful and you realize that this is going to be a regular occurrence. You won’t be able to forget this so you’ve already accepted that you’ll be back in his bed tomorrow or the night after. “It’s fucking perfect.” You grin, leaning against him. From singing in a bar to opening for Jack Daniels…you know your life is just starting.

****

“Are you serious?” You gasp, unable to play it cool as you listen to your new manager. “Yes. Tell them yes.” You squeal and your manager chuckles, promising he will deliver the message. You hang up just as Jack rounds the corner of the diner you’ve stopped off in on your way to Houston. His hands immediately find your waist now that no one is looking and you are alone. You shove your phone into your jeans and reach up to cup his cheeks. “Guess what I just had a call about?” You ask him and he chuckles, “good news I take it?” You nod, “the best news. The label wants an album. My EP did really freaking well and they want an entire album.” You squeal and lean in to press your lips against Jack’s.

You’re not sure what you are right now, friends that sleep together? You’ve been on tour for three months now and you’ve spent nearly every night on Jack’s bus, having sex and talking and playing music. You’ve never slept in the same bed together but you’ve grown close.

“That’s fantastic, sugar.” Jack grins and wraps his arms around you to spin you around. Chuckling when you squeal happily and kiss him again. “You’re gonna kill it. Just make sure you don’t let them push you to puttin’ too many love songs on the album. You don’t wanna get pigeonholed.”

You nod, knowing you have enough material for two or three albums so it will be a mixture. “Hard to write love songs when you’ve never been in love.” You reveal and Jack frowns, “you’ve never been in love?” You shake your head, “guess I’ve kept my heart under lock and key.” You murmur, squeezing his hand to step away from him. Jack lets you go, wondering what it would take for you to fall in love. “I gotta go figure out the tracklist and - I - God, there’s so much to do.” You murmur and step away from Jack so you can start to think. His frown deepens when you rush off, making his stomach twist with unknown emotion.

****

The crowd roars as Jack comes off of the stage and he’s immediately taking his whiskey from the stage hand and he strides over to you. His heart pounding and you let him take your hand to drag you towards his dressing room. “Jack? Jack? Everything okay?” You ask but he’s shutting the door behind him, downing the whiskey and then his lips are on yours.

His tongue is insistent, demanding when he kisses you. It’s not playful like before. There’s a roughness behind it that he doesn’t want to analyze too closely. You’ve already signed your autographs and he needs to as well but he’s noticed that a larger portion of the crowd is wearing shirts with your face on it. The same face he is gripping in his hand now while his other hand is starting to rip open his jeans.

You whimper when his hands shove your dress up, his cock hard and throbbing in your palm as you reach down to grip him. “Baby. Oh shit.” You moan when his fingers dig into your ass, pulling you up against him and you let him guide you over to the vanity, lifting you onto it and you eagerly spread your legs for him. “Fuck me.” You plead, needing him as the adrenaline surges through you.

Condoms are a thing of the past. Both of you have been tested and Jack hadn’t taken anyone else to bed since the very first night. Not even when you had been gone to finalize your album for a few shows where his buddy opened for him. Now though, he’s ravenous for you. Quickly pushing your panties to the side, he notches his cock and pushes deep.

You gasp when he pushes into you, making you whine in pleasure and you grip his shoulders, pulling him close so you can press your lips against his. “Fuck. I’ve missed this.” You cry and wrap your legs around his waist when he starts to move inside of you.

“Shit.” Jack groans, pressing his lips to yours just as desperately. His fingers dig into your hips and he doesn’t even hesitate, pulling his hips back to slam back into you harshly. “Missed you, missed this.” He grunts, biting your bottom lip and tugging on it.

You moan into his mouth, your heels digging into his ass as he starts to fuck you hard and fast. “Jack. Missed - oh shit - missed this too.” You whine, loving the harsh pace and desperation. The adrenaline running through both of you.

His hips slap against your thighs and he groans into your mouth. Desperate to claim you, to mark you as his, even though he has no claim on you. “Fuck, fuck, missed this tight little cunt squeezing me tight.” He huffs. “Just what I need.”

His lips kiss along your neck and you’re certain he is going to bite you but you can’t let him do that when you are supposed to have a photographer from Rolling Stone come and meet you tomorrow. You tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him back, “can’t mark me baby.” You tell him and he grunts but concedes, kissing you once more. You’re close, always are when it comes to him, and you swear it’s something in his kiss, in his touch, that makes you feel electric. “Come on baby, I need - need -“ You reach between you to rub your clit, anxious to feel that bliss you’ve been denied with his absence from your life.

Jack groans, looking down to watch you rub your clit. It’s so sexy how you prioritize your pleasure. “You gonna cum for me?” He demands, the slick sounds of his cock moving fills the air between you. “Gonna soak my cock, sugar? You feel so desperate for it.”

Part of you wants to taunt him, tell him you are doing this because he can’t but the other side of you wants to submit to him, to tell him only he can make you feel like this. “Baby, oh fuck. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me - shitttt.” You hiss, clamping down on his cock as you cry out, loving how good he feels pushing deep inside of you.

Hissing at how tight you get, Jacks thrusts get sloppy, determine to fuck you through it but he’s so fucking close to cumming himself. “That’s it baby girl, cum all over me. Fuck I love that.” He groans.

Your head hits the mirror and you watch him through hazy eyes as he starts to cum. You love it, the way his jaw clenches, the muscles in his neck tighten. You caress his neck, watching him as he thrusts a half dozen more times until he’s burying himself inside of you, painting your walls. “Yes, Jack. That’s it baby. God, you always feel so good.”

You kiss him again, dragging him back into you as you savor the feel of him until it’s time to pull back. He has meet and greets and you have to speak to your team. Jack’s tour is coming to an end soon and your label want you to start promoting your album.

Jack nudges his nose against yours and grins. “You gonna stay on my bus tonight?” He asks, even though he knows the answer. You’ve spent every night on his bus. All your lounging clothes are there in a few drawers he had made room for.

“Yeah. Of course.” You murmur, knowing it’s not even a question at this point. You really have missed him during the shows you’ve been gone, and tonight, you want more. “I want…I want to sleep in your bed.” You tell him, hoping he understands the step you are taking.

Jack hums, grinning as he wraps his arms around you. “Sugar, I promise I won’t hog the covers or snore in your ear.”

“You better not, Daniels, otherwise I will go back to my own bed.” You tease, leaning in to kiss his jaw. He hums and you lean back to pat his chest. “You’d better clean up for those meet and greets. See you in a bit, cowboy.” You wink and he groans as he pulls out of you, letting you know how excited he is to meet his fans.

****

Jack tosses back another show of whiskey and slams it down on the counter, his mood sour and he hates that this is the last tour. This will probably be the end of his career. Despite the numbers, the label was deciding they wanted to hold off on making another album. He can see the writing on the wall, he’s old news. Washed up and while his career is ending, it seems like yours is taking off.

You frown when you find Jack sitting at the bar backstage. It’s the last show of the tour and you need to talk to Jack. “Hey baby.” You rub his back, knowing he’s preparing for his time on stage and you sit down beside him. “Are you doing okay?” You ask and he snorts, tapping his fingers on the counter.

“Yeah. Just mourning the last show of my career.” He says and you frown, “last show? Says who?” You ask and he shakes his head, “everyone. They love you. They adore you and I’m-“

You reach for his hand, “loved and adored. By your fans, by the country music community…by me.” You reveal, biting your lip as you stare at him.

Jack mistakes the adoration in your eyes from pity, shaking his head and sighing. “Naw, it ain’t in the cards for me.” He draws and reaches for the bottle of whiskey again, pulling his hand out of yours. “I’m gonna fade into the night and you will be a rising star.”

Your frown deepens at his self pity, his fate seemingly sealed by his own depression. “You are a star, you’ve opened the CMAs more times than I can count. You have won Grammys and shit - you’ve won sexiest man of the year twice. I have an EP and the label…they want me to - to go out on my own. They have lined up a few shows for me to play, get the momentum going. I am barely a mention, you are the star.” You tell him, caressing his arm, “they love you…I love you.”

“Fuck.” Jack knows that you will go on and become a huge star, and he will just be dead weight. Dragging you down and preventing you from reaching your potential. “You did it, congratulations.” He sneers sarcastically. Raising his glass in a mock salute and tossing back another belt of whiskey. “You got what you want.”

His snarky tone is one you’ve never heard before. “Got what I want…Jack. I- I was singing in a bar and you gave me this opportunity. I owe you everything but do not mistake my success for your opportunity. I am a great songwriter, a great singer. I got the contract on my own talent. You gave me a step onto the ladder but I climbed it by myself. You can sit there and wallow, drown yourself in whiskey, and what will that get you? Nothing. Maybe you are washed up but it’s from your own doing.”

“My opportunity?” Jack leaps to his feet, a scowl twisting his features into an ugly set of his normally handsome face. “Sugar, I don’t need anything from a whore who climbed into my bed.” He regrets the words the second they come out of his mouth, but he doesn’t retract them. “Get out of my goddamn dressing room and get off my fuckin’ stage. You might be hotter than shit, but I’m still the star of this show.”

His words break your heart. All those nights on his bus, talking and playing music. Those moments shatter and in their place is nothing. You stare at him and scoff, shaking your head. “You are washed up. A drunk. Good luck out there. You’re gonna need it since most of them came to see me.” You spit spitefully and back away from him, stomping out of the room and pulling your phone out. You are going to call your manager and tell him you are on for the tour. In a few months, you won’t even remember Jack Daniels.

****

“Jack…I don’t understand. You said you didn’t want to record another song.” His manager sounds bewildered and maybe it’s because Jack has been hell bent on self destruction since you left. After the concert he had tried to find you, only to be told you had already packed up and left. His texts wouldn’t go through, you’d blocked him. So a song is the only way he knows how to reach you.

“I don’t give a shit what I said. I want to record a single and have it put out now.” Jack insists, staring at a picture of you that he had taken, missing you more than he could express without a beat behind it.

****

You exhale shakily, nervous to perform an entire concert alone. Opening for Jack was one thing, five songs to sing, but this is an entire show. You have dance moves and new lyrics to remember. A band and back up dancers. The entire production has been a few months in the making and tonight is the first night of your tour. Your album exploded, going to number one pretty quickly and you have been swept up in success since leaving Jack in his dressing room. You stare at yourself in the mirror, remembering how Jack would drink before a show and you know you don’t want to get into that habit.

It was a pain in the ass buying a ticket to your show but he managed it. Pulling strings with the roadies he knew from his own tour, he had managed to get backstage and talk to the director of the show, convincing him that his idea would be a success. It was hard not to rush to you, seeing you all dressed up and ready to go on stage, but he didn’t want to mess up your timing and he knew he would.

You exhale shakily as you finish the song. Your encore is next and you are full of adrenaline and glistening with sweat. You exit off of the stage and grab the water, downing half off of it as you listen to the crowd scream your name. About five minutes later, you head back on stage with the band but they don’t start playing your song. You turn towards them in question when you see him come on stage. The crowd roars as Jack walks towards you and you force yourself to smile and bring the mic to your lips, “Jack Daniels everyone.”

“How’s everybody doin’ tonight?” Jack asks, fully mic-ed up and ready to go. The crowd cheers and he throws his hand up and waves but his eyes are on you. Your smile is painted on but your eyes are shooting deadly lasers at him that would knock him down dead if they could. “I know most ya’ll have heard my new single, but I bet ya’ll didn’t know I wrote it about this pretty lady right here, did ya?” He asks, and the crowd goes crazy again. “And I want to sing it to her tonight.”

You haven’t heard his new single. Having tried to actively avoid anything to do with Jack and you want to ask if he wrote a song about a whore. Your jaw is clenched, teeth gritted in a smile as Jack strums his guitar and he starts to play as the crowd settles down.

Jack pours his heart into the song, singing every note as pure as he can. The song about love and loss, failure and redemption and the everlasting hope that love would come back. He ends on the last note and the entire stadium erupts into applause.

Your blood is boiling but you can’t show that. You have to act like this is perfect and that Jack just won you over. He hasn’t. You smile and clap, deciding to end your concert there as you look at the band and make the symbol that the concert is over. You wave at the crowd and move to stand next to Jack, holding his hand as you both bid the crowd goodnight. He guides you off of the stage, guitar pressing against his back, and you snatch your hand away. “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” You growl, raising your hand to slap his face.

Jack doesn’t stop you from slapping him, figuring that you deserve it agyer what he said. His eyes widened as his head snaps to the side from the impact and he rubs his cheek. “Sugar, I’m tryin’ to apologize the only way I know how. I’m a fuckin’ fool and I love you. I’m sorry for the hurt I caused you.”

You shake your head, stepping away from him. “You love me? Are you being serious? I- Jack - you called me a whore? Remember? Said I wasn’t good enough. I- you fucking asshole.” You hiss, shaking your head as tears sting in your eyes.

“It’s me that ain’t good enough, sugar.” Jack admits, reaching out for you and then dropping his hand when you flinch back. “I didn’t mean it, I promise. I’ve never thought of you like that. I was angry and scared and I took it out on you. Didn’t you listen to the song?”

You nod, “I- shit. I did and I- you wrote that for me?” You ask and he nods. You shake your head and take another step back. “You don’t want me. That song - it doesn’t mean anything. You don’t love me.”

“Sugar, I love you more than anything.” Jack promises you. “I want you more than I want to be a country music star. I’d give it all up and be your roadie. Or I’d open for you. I don’t care. I just want you.”

His words make your heart twist, wanting to believe him and tell him how much you love him. You still do, even after you walked out of his dressing room that night. You swallow harshly, tears stinging in your eyes. “I can’t - I don’t believe you. You were so cruel to me and you picked me up from nothing and gave me a chance then you ripped it all away. I’m not gonna be a superstar like you. How can you throw it all away?”

“I want you more.” Jack tells you, desperate for you to believe him. “After my wife and son died, I never thought love was in the cards for me again. Never thought anything was more important. And when the label said they didn’t want to make a new album just yet, I thought I was done, that they had moved on and I couldn’t handle it.” He sighs. “I’ve decided I’m gonna retire, or start my own label if needed, but I want to see you become a star. I want to watch you rise up.”

Jack had told you about the death of his childhood sweetheart and his son. A tragedy that made you cry for him and it made you love him more that he’d survived such a loss. Understanding him more than you thought possible but now you aren’t sure if you trust him. “It doesn’t matter anyway. After this tour…I’m taking a break.” You reveal.

Jack frowns, “why? You’re just getting started. You need to take advantage. Record another album. Get back on the road.” He argues.

You shake your head, “I need to go home…to have the baby.” You declare softly, your hand resting on your lower stomach.

Jack’s eyes flutter between your stomach and your face, in disbelief and he knows that the baby has to be his. “C-congratulations.” He chokes out, wanting to reach out for you but he curls his hand into a fist. “I- what can I do? What do you want from me, sugar? You want me to be involved? You want child support? I want to be involved, however you will let me. A baby? Really?”

You bite your lip, imagining him as a father, as your partner, but then you remember his drinking problem. “Jack…I can’t - you’re a drunk. You can’t be around a kid. I wouldn’t trust you.” You hate saying it but your baby has to come first. You’d been torn on having an abortion since your career was taking off and you’d broken up with Jack but the thought of losing the last piece of him was too much as you decided to keep the baby.

“I’ll quit drinkin’.” If that’s what it takes for you to let him in the baby’s life, he would. He would do anything. “I’ll go to rehab and pour every goddamn bottle down the drain.”

You stare into his eyes, “if you mean it, if you’ll go to rehab…you can be in this baby’s life. In my life. I love- I can’t - I love you so much and I want you to be mine but you - the drink and the music are your priorities.

“I’ll give it all up, baby.” Jack shakes his head and reaches for you. “Baby, I’ll give it all up for you. I’ll be a stay at home daddy if it means I get to have you and-“ Jack’s voice cracks. “Our baby. I love you, sugar. I don’t want to spend another minute without you.”

You let him pull you close, allowing yourself to snuggle into his chest, breathing him in. “I just want you to be there. Go to rehab and get sober and I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.” You promise, caressing his chest. “Our baby…our baby.” You grin and slide your hands up to cup his cheeks, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jack hums, right before the sounds from the stadium registers. The call from the crowd for you and Jack. The fans not leaving and chanting your names over and over again and Jack realizes that the crew hadn’t turned off your mics so your entire conversation had been broadcasted to the concert. “Oops.” Jack huffs, unconcerned with them hearing his confession, it’s nothing that isn’t in his song. “Think we’ve gone public, sugar.”

You bury your face in his chest, slightly embarrassed that the crowd heard it all but you knew it would all come out eventually. “Do you- the duet we wrote…maybe now is the time to try it live?” You ask, looking at him while you bashfully smile.

“I think now would be the perfect time to showcase a brand new song, a duet that probably is more emotional than we ever really thought it was gonna be.” Now thinking of the words, it was everything unsaid between you while on his tour. “Are you ready, baby? We can do it if you want to.”

You nod, knowing the whole world will know about your relationship and you want to put your words out into the world before the press gets hold of it. “Let’s do it.” You say and squeeze his hand as he starts to escort you on stage. The crowd roars as you come on stage and the band watch from the sides as Jack takes the guitar and winks at you, leaning in to kiss your cheek as your fingers flex around the mic. Jack starts to play and you sing a verse each, singing the chorus together and performing the song that summerized your relationship so far.

Jack watches you the entire time, stars in his eyes as he sings. Showing the crowd and the entire world how he feels about you. He knows that it will go viral, the news and the video uploaded onto social media. But for now, he’s just singing to you.

You sing back, the crowd blurring into the background as you focus on Jack and how you feel. “I love you.” You mouth at Jack when he finishes the song. He winks at you and pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours and the crowd roars, shouting their approval and congratulations. You smile against Jack’s mouth, excited for what the futures brings.

****

You sit there and look at Jack up on stage. He kept his promise and went to rehab, remaining sober from that day to this, and you watch him as he reads the prompter, dressed in a gorgeous suit you can’t wait to pull off of him later. You rub your bump and smile at him from your seat.

Jack beans into the camera, “and the winner for female breakout country artist is….” He fumbles with the envelope and lets out a whoop followed by your name. He had known you were going to win the CMT awards, he had told you that you were going to win when you had been nominated and then again when you were getting ready tonight. The other announcer claps and Jack is ecstatic as you come up and he rushes down to the edge of the stage to help you up the few stairs since you are now almost due. “I knew it was you, sugar.”

You grin, waddling on stage and wearing sneakers under your dress. Jack guides you to the podium and squeezes your hand, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Congratulations.” He murmurs and you cup his cheek, “thank you, darling.” You whisper before you turn to the microphone. “Wow…um, when I was getting ready tonight, my husband said to me that I was going to win but I didn’t believe him. It’s been a wild year. Going out on tour and falling in love with Jack Daniels, recording an album, finding out I was pregnant and getting married. This year has been the best year of my life and this is the cherry on top. Thank you for this award and I’d like to dedicate it to the man who gave me everything after hearing me sing in a bar one night.” You turn towards Jack and lean in to kiss him, “I love you so much.” The audience claps and you take the award in your hand, grinning at the crowd. “Now…you gonna take me home?” You ask Jack as you are escorted off stage.

“Always gonna take you home, sugar.” Jack presses his lips to yours and his hand caresses your stomach gently. “My country star of a wife deserves a hot bath to soak in and a foot rub by her adoring number one fan.” He coos, knowing that you will have your own kind of after party celebration. Together.

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