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munsonsmixtapes · 2 months

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Save a Horse

Tyler Owens x fem!reader

summary: you and your best friend, Tyler decided to test the waters and take your friendship to the next level, unbeknownst to the both of you that you’re in love with each other.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v)

The bar was hazy when Tyler walked into it, a line dance already in formation. He didn’t even want to be there, but he was trying to make himself actually get out there again. He hadn’t been on a date in what felt like ages, so he was a little rusty, but a few beers should have fixed that. Despite his looks, he wasn’t very good with the ladies. Any time he would try to flirt, it came off offensive or borderline sexist because he got a little too cocky. But this was his night. He was desperate to get laid, his hand no longer doing the job.

He made a beeline for the bar and ordered a beer, surveying the area for whoever he was going to take home for the night. There were a lot of pretty women and he was trying not to be picky. This was just to get him back out there. The sex didn’t have to be good and it certainly didn’t have to mean anything.

His eyes locked on a pretty blonde that was on the other side of the bar, barely visible through all of the dancing bodies. She was already staring him down, sipping on a drink with a straw and Tyler was wondering what else she was willing to suck on. He downed half of his beer and made a beeline for her, trying to go around the dancing crowd so as to not get caught in it.

But then he heard something, someone who stopped him in his tracks. He turned his head to the left and sure enough, there you were, arguing with someone like you always seemed to be doing.

You were beautiful. So much so that he couldn’t help but stare. You were dressed in a black tank top that was tucked into a pair of very short denim shorts and a pair of black cowboy boots were on your feet. Before he could stop himself, his feet were gaining a mind of their own as they carried him over to you.

He finally stood at your side, but you were paying him no attention, your argument with the stranger still going strong. You looked seconds away from pulling out your earrings and hitting the man. And as much as Tyler knew he should have stopped you, he kind of wanted to see you do it. You had a bad temper you never took out on anyone who didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just give me a chance,” the man said. That seemed to unleash something in you because you stepped closer to him, nothing but fire in your eyes. Tyler wasn’t a fan of how he still found you so hot when you got angry. The way your eyes would be filled with fire and your nose would twitch and your mouth would twist as you were trying to decide what you were going to say next.

There were so many times where he wanted to kiss you when he had done something to upset you. Clearly nothing had changed since he was staring directly at your mouth, watching your lips move. They were painted with a red gloss, making them even more inviting. But nothing was coming out of them. The place was loud but not loud enough to where he couldn’t hear what you were saying when you were only like a foot away from him.

“Maybe because you slapped my ass?” You replied, surely seconds away from beating this guy up. Tyler’s eyes widened, hurrying to stand beside you before he could stop himself.

“You did what?” He asked in shock.

“You bent over to grab a pool ball that fell off the table and you’re saying I wasn’t supposed to smack it?” Tyler cracked his knuckles, wanting to hit the guy himself.

“Yes,” you and Tyler replied in unison. You turned to him and he looked good. Almost too good. The scruff on his face did him well and the cowboy hat on top of his head looked far better than it should have. His white t-shirt clung to his body and you hated how much his jeans hugged his waist.

You wanted him, and bad. So much so that the man had been the starring lead in your fantasies that you had come up with every night before you went to bed. You had been in love with him for years, wondering why you hadn’t asked him out when you had the chance. He was so sweet and caring and you wished that you had been the one he had flirted with when he had a few drinks in him.

“And who are you?” Tyler asked, draping an arm over your shoulder. You loved when he got like this, all authoritative, taking control of the situation. If it had been up to you, you would have taken him right then and there.

“Who are you?” The man replied as it he had the right to be angry with either of you. Tyler felt the need to protect you, even though he knew you didn’t need saving. He just wanted to drape his arm over your shoulder to let everyone know you were his.

Well, that was what he wanted you to be. You had never gotten to that point and it was all his fault. He had been too afraid to make your friendship something more. He was stuck in the friendzone where he had put himself for years, kicking himself for not asking you out the first night he met you.

“I’m her boyfriend so I suggest you move along before I have Enrique throw you out.” You could take care of yourself just fine, but something about Tyler always jumping in to protect you always made you feel a little wet in your panties.

The man just muttered something under his breath before turning away, not wanting to get kicked out again. With him gone, you turned on your heel, heading back to the bar to order a much needed shot with Tyler hot on your heels.

Tyler couldn’t help but let his eyes drop to your ass, and watching it move as you walked in your tight shorts was torture to the man. He always found himself wanting to get a handful for himself, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he kissed you until you were breathless, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You’d let out a loud moan and he’d grab you by the backs of your legs, helping you wrap them around him-

You stopped at the bar and ordered a drink before turning to face Tyler as shots of tequila were set on the bar, as if the bartender could read your mind. You reached for both and handed one of them to your best friend.

“Drink up, Owens,” you nudged him and you both downed the shots, feeling it burn all the way down. You both slammed the empty glasses down on the bar and you eyed him, wondering what he would have said if you had invited him to the bathroom right that second.

There was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite make out. A look that you didn’t recognize in any way, shape or form. They were soft and sweet, just like you remembered. In that moment, you could feel your anger towards him falling away. You could never be mad at him for too long, especially not when you looked into those beautiful green eyes and this time, you could tell that he wasn’t trying to use that to his advantage.

“Thank you for that,” you said, nodding your head towards where you both had just been. “And to thank you, I’m adding your drinks to my tab.”

“That’s real sweet, darlin’, but you don’t need to thank me.” That nickname always managed to make you absolutely melt, loving the way it fell from his lips so naturally. “Just your friendship is enough,” he winked.

“Oh, shut up,” you went to shove his shoulder, but he was quick to grab your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to it.

“Alright,” he took another sip of his beer. “Dance with me,” he said, tilting his head up a little.

“Dance with you?” You had no idea what he was talking about, wondering if he was expecting you to read his mind. If you had been able to do that, you definitely wouldn’t have been working at the bar part-time.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Dance with me as your thank you.” He couldn’t be serious.

“Yeah, not happening,” you shook your head. One thing you didn’t do under any circumstances was dance. A ballet recital gone wrong when you were ten made you swear off the activity entirely, never wanting to be embarrassed like that again.

“No way.”

“Fine,” he took another sip of his beer. “Then I’ll just dance by myself.” He slowly headed to the dancefloor, giving you every opportunity to back out if you didn’t want to do it. His hand moved back, his palm facing you as he continued to head to the dance floor, wiggling his digits to get your attention.

You rolled your eyes even though his back was to you and reluctantly put your hand in his. Tyler pulled you out onto the makeshift dance floor and the two of you somehow ended up directly in the center. He was able to quickly pick up the routine while you were left to flounder, moving awkwardly because of your hands that were still attached.

You watched him move so effortlessly, feeling odd being right next to him since you were always there on the sidelines when he was a part of it. He’d smile at you as you sat at the bar, waving you over, but you always shook your head. But now that you were finally dancing with him, he was hoping that it could become a regular thing.

He liked the way your shoulders would brush when you moved the wrong way and the way you’d squeeze his hand to communicate that you were nervous. You turned the way that you thought you were supposed to go but ended up bumping into Tyler, nothing but a chuckle falling from his lips as he looked down at you.

“Follow me, okay?” He asked and you nodded. “Turn around.” You did as he asked and turned around, your back facing him. His hands slowly moved up to your waist, letting them make a home there. He had touched you there multiple times when he had hugged you, but this was entirely different. So close to the way you had wanted him to touch you, but not nearly enough.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, his lips right by the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Of course you trusted him. Maybe more than you should have.

“Of course,” you responded with a nod.

“Follow my lead, darlin’.” It was as if he was trying to drive you crazy. Like he knew the exact effect he had on you. But he had too, right? This was all an elaborate way to get you to admit that you had feelings for him. Well, two could play that game.

You kept in rhythm with him, slowly but surely backing up to him, your ass right up against his crotch. You gingerly began to grind on the spot, resisting the urge to turn and see his reaction. You could tell he was enjoying it just by the way his fingers were digging into your waist.

You moved the two of you out of the way of the dancers and continued to grind on Tyler, your movements still slow, but harder now. You could hear his breathing pick up, feeling his nose brush your jaw, his breath on your neck sending another chill up your spin.

He never thought the two of you would be dancing like this, the movements so sensual and sexy. You knew exactly what you were doing and it was fucking unfair. He could feel his cock hardening and pretty soon, he wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore.

“This isn’t the right dance,” he chuckled.

“I know,” you nodded. “But don’t you like this more, Owens? I can feel you getting hard.” Just when you were going to really take it home, you were suddenly turned around, a gasp leaving your mouth at the sudden movement. Your hands landed on his chest and Tyler’s hands rested on your lower back, pulling you as close to him as possible.

You leaned closer to him, your lips brushing his and the man was convinced he was a goner. He could feel your gloss that had transferred to his own lips and wanted it other places, anywhere you could get your lips. He loved the idea of being covered in your kisses, the prints leaving your mark behind.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sugar,” he said, his voice low, raspy. And it was doing wonders for you. He was so hot and you were having a hard time not making a move anymore.

“Oh, I fully intend on finishing,” you responded, finally pressing your lips to his. His eyes widened at your actions, but he was quick to melt into you, his lips catching yours slowly.

His arms wrapped around your waist even tighter, pulling you as close to him as possible. Yours wrapped around his neck, your hands running through his hair at the back of his head.

Your head felt like it was swimming, his lips more soft than you could have ever imagined. He tasted like the beer he had been drinking, mixed with something else you couldn’t quite make out. It was sweet and sour.

You pulled away before it could get too heated and Tyler admired the lip gloss that had smeared across your face, very tempted to go back in for more. His thumb swiped across your cheek to help get rid of it, but that didn’t seem to help, only smearing it further.

The weight of what you had done was catching up to you. You had just kissed your best friend. You had just kissed your best friend and you liked it. You had only gotten a taste but now you wanted more. All of him. You wanted to finally make your fantasies a reality.

And you couldn’t. You couldn’t do that without completely complicating your friendship and you really liked what the two of you had. It was really nice at first, to have a friend without all of the “feelings” bullshit, but now you had actually fallen for him. And hard.

“Fuck,” the word fell from Tyler’s lips, his voice somehow getting even more raspy, making you even more wet. God, you really were fucked, and not in the way you wanted to be.

“Do you wanna take this out to my truck?” You asked, your hands lazily moving up and down his back.

“I’d love to take this out to your truck,” he replied, pressing his lips to yours before paying your bills and leading you out of the bar, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist.

You rifled through your purse, looking for your keys and found them before unlocking your truck. Tyler opened the driver’s seat door for you before helping you into it. He then closed the door and rounded the hood before getting into his own seat.

You peeled out of the parking lot and sped down the road, thankful for how late it was so there was little traffic. Your heart pounded as you pulled into what looked like an abandoned parking lot.

Why you were scared of what you were about to do, you didn’t know. Tyler was sweet and you knew that he would do whatever he could to make you comfortable. He was nothing but a sweetheart and would make you feel good, stopping at nothing to do so.

You put the car in park and turned it off before turning toward Tyler. You stared at each other, the only thing that could be heard was the radio playing a soft country song. You turned the volume up to attempt to drown out your thoughts. What the hell were you doing? You didn’t know, but you were fully prepared to dive right in.

Tyler reached out, placing a hand on your cheek before pulling your face closer to his, his lips ghosting over yours, almost as if he was afraid to go for it. That confidence from the bar completely evaporated into the air.

You took the lead, pressing your lips to his, your movements more rushed and rough as you nipped at his bottom lip. He let out a little whine and that was enough to make you absolutely soaked.

Rain pattered against the car as you slotted your lips together once more before pulling away. You climbed over the center console and placed yourself into his lap, straddling him.

Tyler looked up at you, his pupils blown and his lips smeared with your lipgloss. It was an adorable sight and you hated how good he looked in that goddamn hat. You took the hat off of his head and put it on your own, moving your head this way and that, modeling it for him.

“How do I look?” You asked, turning your head to the side and he just laughed.

“You look good,” he nodded.

“As good as you?”

“Even better,” he replied, pulling you in for another kiss, removing the hat from your head and setting it on the driver’s seat.

He slipped his tongue into your mouth, letting it swirl around yours and a moan fell from your lips at the sensation. His hands slipped into your back pockets, giving your ass a squeeze and you gasped into his mouth which only made him do it again.

You began to grind against him as your tongues tangled together and you could hear a groan in the back of his throat. The whole thing was overstimulating for him, there was no way he was going to ask you to stop any time soon.

Your hands rested on his chest as you kissed him, this one slow and gentle, as if you two had all the time in the world, and right there, in that abandoned parking lot, you did. Your tongues tangled as you continued to grind into him, your underwear getting soaked as you felt his dick forming a tent in his pants.

Tyler’s hands moved to your shorts as you reached down on the side of the seat in search of the lever that leaned it back. You found it with ease and leaned the chair back as far as it would go as you let Tyler take what he wanted from you, you pliant to his every move.

You both struggled to pull down your shorts, laughing because of how small the space was. Maybe there was a reason why neither of you ever did this kind of thing. He got them down to your ankles and you moved so he could take off his jeans, his belt buckle making a clattering noise as it hit the tops of his boots.

You both removed your shirts and Tyler eyed the black lacy number you were wearing. His hand moved up to run over the fabric of the tops of the cups, his fingers brushing your skin every so slightly.

“Like what you see?” You asked, leaning down a little so he could get a better look at your cleavage. And you had him right where you wanted him, catching him staring right at it. You scooted up so that they were right in front of his face and he brought his lips to the skin, pressing a soft to it.

He then moved up, his lips now connected with your neck, his tongue swiping back and forth as he began to suck. You moved your head to give him more access and that caused him to nip at your skin, another gasp falling from your lips.

“So good,” you moaned, your eyes shutting. He continued to work, having every intention of creating a hickey right there underneath your ear. He licked and sucked, pulling the most delicious moans from your mouth.

To test the water, he grazed the skin with his teeth and you moaned loudly, reaching your orgasm. God, you were so fucking hot, the way you were able to make the most pretty sounds and look pretty while doing it. The sweat already forming on your skin, making you look absolutely irresistible.

You helped him get his underwear down and realized there was no going back as he cock sprang free from it. It was hard as a rock and probably the biggest you had ever seen. Who knew that your best friend was packing so much? Clearly you didn’t.

You pulled a condom from your purse and rolled it onto his cock before placing yourself on top of it, both of you moving awkwardly as you got used to each other in that way. Your hands rested on his shoulder as his head went to your waist, helping you move, riding him slowly.

You picked up the pace, and Tyler couldn’t help but watch you, feeling himself getting close just by looking at you. The cause of his wet dreams right on top of him, almost convincing him that he had been in one.

He let out a moan of his own and you looked down at him, your eyes darkening as you did so. You had barely even done anything as he already looked blissed out. This had to be a record. Knowing that you could do that to someone gave you so much power and you got more confident, moving as fast and as hard as you could.

Tyler let out another moan, his own scream climbing up his throat, his fingers digging into your waist, surely forming bruises. His head was back against the headrest, his eyes shut tight as another scream ripped through him, his breathing labored.

His hands moved up your back, his nails gliding down it, leaving scratches and your back arched at the movement, reaching your own orgasm. But you stayed there, seeing if you could get one more from him before taking a break before going for round two.

“Holy shit,” he moaned. “You really know what you’re doing,” he said through breaths.

His hands scratched up your back as you watched him, seeing that he was close again. A final loud moan fell from his lips and you slowed down your pace but kept moving, another orgasm rolling through you.

You sat there, staring at each other, your chests rising and falling as you did so. You never thought you would have ever gotten to that place with Tyler, but there you were, sitting on top of his dick, having just had the best sex of your life. And it hadn't even lasted that long.

“I have an idea. And hear me out, okay?” He asked, his hands moving up and down your arms lazily.

“Okay.”

“What if-what I want you to be the only one I sleep with?” Your eyes widened at his words, but you had to admit that you loved the idea. There was no way you could fuck anyone else after that. He had ruined you for any other man.

“Oh, so like friends with benefits?” So you didn’t understand. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. He wanted you to be his. Solely exclusive with him. His girlfriend. The one he went to bed with every night and woke up to every morning.

“I love you, y/n,” he said, sitting up, taking you into his arms, looking you in the eyes so you knew he was serious. This wasn’t exactly how he had planned on telling you, but he supposed that this was a good a time as any.

“I love you too, Tyler,” you replied, pressing your lips to his, this kiss sweeter than the others, both of you smiling into it. “Be mine?”

“Oh, darlin’,” he let out a chuckle, pressing another kiss to your lips. “I always was.”

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x fem!reader #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens x you #tyler owens smut #tyler owens fluff

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fuckaperioddrama · 6 months

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Theodore Nott Headcanons

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Mattheo Riddle Headcanons Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons Blaise Zabini Headcanons Tom Riddle Headcanons Draco Malfoy Headcanons Regulus Black Headcanons Masterlist

MDNI | 18+

Theodore Nott | Physique

6’5 - 6'6 | Sorry, he’s just super tall in my head. I'm a tall girl so let me have this.

Lean, but lanky? He's in the in-between stage.

He doesn’t have a lot of muscle, but you can still see muscle?

He's a little insecure about his body, especially since Mattheo and Lorenzo are more on the buff side.

Would never go to the gym though, he only works out during Quidditch.

Resting bitch face, but I feel like this is established.

HOT AS FUCK! HOT! I MEAN HOT AS FUCK! | Shameless Theo girl. SHAMELESS!

Theodore Nott | Personality

He’s an asshole, but he’s funny. He’s more on the quiet side, but once in a while, he’ll say something witty that’ll make everyone in the room laugh.

Don’t get into an argument with him. He has a comeback for everything. It’s actually really fucking annoying.

So blunt. He won’t share his opinion unless asked or if it’s important to him but don’t ask him unless you want the complete and total truth.

Plays the piano and guitar.

He loves books. He reads a lot of romance, but he would never share that with anyone.

He’s very smart. He studies a little here and there, but mostly he just understands everything naturally. He doesn’t even really have to pay attention that much in class. Something else that’s really fucking annoying.

I feel like he's not amazing at DADA. He's not bad at it, but he gets in his head sometimes and will mess up.

He’s a homebody, but he’ll go out to parties every once in a while. Mainly to hang out with his boys and keep up appearances.

He’s prideful. He comes from a good family and he likes to make his presence known.

A chaser in Quidditch and is ALWAYS showing off. It pisses Draco off so much.

He smokes, but not a ton. I’d say a pack every 2-3 days.

Smokes weed though. He’s not reckless with it, but if he’s at a party or relaxing without shit to do? He’s lighting up.

Eats SO MUCH. Especially when he's high. He is always in the mood for food.

Theodore Nott | Casenova

He does have a lot of sex, but it’s usually one woman for a couple of weeks. He doesn’t talk to her outside of their meetups and will (and has) embarrassed a couple of women who even thought it was okay to approach him.

He’s an ASSHOLE!

The reason why these women keep crawling back? Theodore Nott fucks you like he loves you. He’s so attentive.

A MUNCH! Theodore Nott is a munch, through and through. He's so good at it too.

It's because he speaks Italian. Anyone who speaks the tongue of romance also speaks the tongue of absolutely devouring some pussy. I know that's not true for all, but let me DREAM!

He's also skilled with his fingers. | Piano and guitar player. Duh.

As previously mentioned, this man is prideful. He will spend hours on a woman pulling out every sound, causing every jolt, and basking in the way they scream his name because it feeds his ego.

He's not doing all of that because he cares, he just likes knowing he's good at what he does. And he is good.

He’s a dom, and he is ROUGH, but he talks them through it the whole time. SO MUCH PRAISE!

This pussy is mine, toria. All fucking mine. There isn't a single man on this Earth who deserves to feel you like this.

I know, baby. Just cum on my cock one more time. That's all I need. Let me feel you just one more time.

Fuck, bella, you make me feel so good.

He'll have them thinking their vag was crafted by Aphrodite herself, meanwhile he's pulling these lines on every woman he fucks.

And when he starts speaking Italian? These women EAT IT UP!

I might be a strong woman, but I'd let this man use me too.

They eat him up too. Not just figuratively. It's become a guessing game for the boys trying to figure out who his hickey came from.

Theo isn't one to kiss and tell. He just smirks and lays his head back, exposing his hickey covered neck as his friends keep asking questions they'll never get the answers to.

And after sex? He’s the perfect, sweet lover. So time after time these women come crawling back despite how he treats them in public and he uses them over and over again.

Then he gets bored, he moves on to the next woman, and the cycle repeats.

Theodore Nott | Friend

Closest to Mattheo and Blaise

Talks a lot more around his friends. Jokes left and right.

Always doing some dumb shit. Pranks with Mattheo? His favorite pastime.

He likes going out with his boys, being reckless, blowing his money, and just being young.

He loves his friends because they remind him what it’s like to be free.

He’d never admit it to any of them, but meeting them was one of the best things that ever happened to him.

His friends (Aka Draco and Lorenzo) are bullies, but he couldn’t be bothered with that. He’s more of a fuck around a find out type of guy.

Yes, I believe Lorenzo Berkshire is an asshole. Please don’t come for me. Or do.

He takes care of his friends silently. He won’t ask them how their day is, but he’ll show up with their favorite things whenever he notices them feeling bad.

Very attentive. He is very in tune with the needs of the group.

Theodore Nott | Boyfriend

UGH, I LOVE THIS PART

He is used to being an asshole toward women so he’s not sure how to navigate his first relationship

Gift Giving and Acts of Service

He doesn’t know how to properly express his feelings so he just buys you shit and does stuff for you

PRINCESS TREATMENT

I’m talking back rubs, foot rubs, | If you want that. I know some people have a feet thing. | putting on your shoes, zipping up your dress, washing you in the shower or bath, doing your hair, carrying you when your feet hurt. Something broke? He’ll fix it. You need something? Baby, I’ve got it.

He serves you first in the great hall. He puts your food on your plate first and makes sure you have all of your favorites. He likes to give you food. He likes to eat so he likes it when you eat.

Buys you flowers. He always keeps a flower from the arrangement so he can tell when yours is about to die.

Dates 2-3 times a month.

Always buying you gifts. He will FORCE you to take them. Why should I not spoil you?

He can be a little misogynistic when it comes to taking care of you.

He's more of a feminist. He doesn't give a shit and thinks women can do whatever they want. However, some gender roles are just ingrained in him.

Do not try to pay for dinner. Don't try to pay for anything while you're out with him. Do you want these people to think I can't take care of my girl?

Will not let you carry anything heavy. In private he might let you get away with it if you argue, but not in public. He's a man and it's his job to act like the man. | I don't mind men like this too much. Like I'm an independent woman, but I'm also a damsel in distress. Please do everything for me.

Anything his baby wants his baby gets. He has a big protector/provider mindset. He will do anything for you because you’re precious and you shouldn’t have to do anything yourself.

Teddy, I’ve got it.

I know, cara mia, but let me do it.

His hands are always on you. Physical Touch.

When you first start dating it’s subtle. Hand on your back, hands grazing in the hallways.

He can be a little possessive. Or a lot.

He used to fuck the girlfriends of the guys he didn’t like so he doesn’t like when guys come around you. He keeps you close as a way to claim you.

Toxic

When he gets more comfortable around you it’s a hand on your waist, arm around your shoulder, occasionally smacking your ass.

He’s a thigh guy, but he appreciates everything. Boobs, butt, thighs, neck, arm, whatever. The female body is beautiful and he loves every inch.

Greets you in the hallways by putting his arms around you from behind.

Neck. Kisses. Always kissing your neck. Licking your neck. Biting your neck.

Kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you. Sometimes it looks like he's swallowing you, your friends think it's kinda gross.

Walks you to each and every class and makes out with you before them

He just loves to spend time with you.

Quality Time

As I mentioned before, he’s a homebody. He loves just staying in with you. After your last class, he always goes to your dorm or you go to his. Study together. Astronomy Tower dates.

He follows you around like a lost puppy. He’s so lover-boy-coded.

He didn’t pay attention to the girls before you, but he has no problem giving you his full attention whenever and wherever you need it. Call him a simp? He doesn’t care. That’s his girl.

He can be a little controlling sometimes. He likes to know where you are, and who you’re with.

He walks you everywhere. You’re meeting up with your friends after he spent two hours railing you against a wall? He’s walking you the whole way, he can't miss a second of you.

And afterward, he always gives you a kiss and a hug goodbye. I’ll miss you, amore. Like you two won’t see each other in a couple of hours. Then he'll keep pulling you closer to him every time you try to break free because he needs just one more kiss.

He’ll always make you late. Sometimes it's because he is smothering you in kisses. Other times, he spends a good ten minutes holding you and telling you how much he loves you. Words of Affirmation.

Once Theodore Nott is fully and completely comfortable in his love with you he will NOT shut up. He can be so cheesy too, he comes up with the most eye-roll-inducing stuff.

I know I won't make it to heaven, but at least I was given a taste before I go.

I think someone might have stolen the stars and put them in your eyes.

Then there's the unhinged cheesy ones.

Why should I waste time studying herbs with the power to heal wounds when the only healing power I need is right in between your legs?

Are you the witch who lost her broom? I couldn't find it, but I have something else long and hard that you can ride. I've heard it can last all. night. long.

ON AND ON. HE WON'T STOP.

Then of course you have his more serious declarations of love. Usually when you're sleeping because whenever he tries to say this stuff when you're awake he feels like his heart is about to backflip into his ass.

When I look at your face, I feel as if the sun finally rises. My world fades from dark to light and in that moment; and only in that moment, I find happiness. I am not a good man, I don't know what I did in life to deserve you but I promise to spend every second making sure I'm worthy of keeping you.

| Alright, that was a little cute. Maybe a little too cheesy, let’s move on.

Theodore Not | Committed Lover

Tongue shoved in between your legs 24/7. On his knees in the closet, with you above him sitting on a desk, laying down between your legs, you sitting on his face. Anytime, anywhere he is tasting you like it’s the last thing he ever could do.

He is so good with his fingers. | Once again guys, he plays piano and guitar. | Fast fingers working you open every chance he gets.

Seriously every chance he gets.

He loves fingering you in the middle of class, by the lake, in the hallways, and anywhere in public. | With your consent of course.

I SAID IT ONCE AND ILL SAY IT AGAIN! ROUGH!

He loves doggy. Having you bent over while he smacks your ass raw and dicks you down like a fucking animal.

I mean leg up, holding you back by the ties around your wrist while he thrust his huge ass cock | At least 8 inches and THICK | into your SOAKED and achy cunt because you know he took his TIME getting you ready.

Literal hours sucking on your clit while he fucked you with his nicely long and thick fingers

Now he’s pounding into you at an unthinkable speed while you’re screaming, tears running down your face, and mind going blank as he fucks you dumb.

He lets you ride him sometimes. He loves seeing you on top, but he still never fully gives you control. He keeps his hands firm on your waist or ass and you can never get away with teasing him for long before he holds you in place and fucks into you like a man possessed.

He likes the soft stuff too.

Hands holding onto your hips as he grinds his cock into your pussy.

Head stuffed into your neck as he continuously moans. I could stay here forever. You’re all I need.

___

A/N: Overall, Theo is a toxic asshole but it’s okay because he magically becomes the perfect gentleman (not really) when we start dating him.

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lnlightning81 · 2 months

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Whippet [MV1/MV33]

Summary: Max surprises you with a Whippet puppy. Your puppy's paddock debut and a cute moment

Pairing/s: Max Verstappen x reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist Dogs Masterlist Max Verstappen Masterlist Tag List

Getting a dog wasn’t something you expected to happen. Although you had always been a dog person when you got with Max you knew that for a long while there wouldn’t be a chance of getting a dog anytime soon but you were okay with that because Jimmy and Sassy were like your little furbabies.

It was a race weekend where you couldn’t make it due to work but Max understood that you couldn’t always attend and you did whenever you could - which was most of the races- however it still hurt you both that you weren’t going to be there for support.

It was no surprise that as you were watching it in the office, you saw Max cross the finish line in first place. You cheered, scaring the people in the office next to you, which you did apologise for before you left for the night.

The week Max had been away was a struggle to say the least, part of you was glad that you at least had Jimmy and Sassy there but they didn’t enjoy human contact for prolonged periods of time which left you feeling alone to say the least.

They slept on the end of the bed, keeping nothing but your feet warm, but you needed something to keep the rest of you warm. That’s what you kept complaining about every time Max called you. You were really complaining because you missed him holding you as you slept.

What you didn’t expect was to come home from work the day Max was due back to find a little puppy running about the apartment.

“Max?” You called out, confused more than anything. Your key worked, so this was obviously the right apartment even though you were questioning that right now. Maybe Lando got a puppy. you thought.

“Hey schat” Max smiled, walking out of the kitchen like nothing was wrong

“Why is there a puppy in our apartment? Actually, let me rephrase that. Why is there a whippet puppy in our apartment?” You asked, raising your hand up to stop him from hugging you

“Oh meet Teddy” Max smiled as you raised your eyebrows.

“What?” You asked, looking down at the puppy who was wagging his tail at your legs just waiting for attention.

“He gets on brilliantly with Sassy and Jimmy, so don’t even worry about that. He’s already toilet trained which is super helpful except he currently has no other training but I figured that’s something you’d like to do” You tilted your head a little as you crouched down to clap the little black and white ball of fur

“I know that when you’re complaining about not having anything to keep you warm you’re wanting me without saying it” He started as you looked up to him. Never realising that he actually caught on to why you complained when you couldn’t join him.

“And I can’t just come back so I got what they call a “man’s best friend” for you. Or well, in this case “womens best friend” I hope you don’t mind” He trailed off as he finished that last sentence. You stood back up, walking the final steps to close the distance between Max and yourself.

“Max. Love. I never realised you caught on that I wasn’t actually just cold and that I actually missed you. You’re so sweet. I really don’t deserve you but, I guess I really don’t mind. You know I’ve always wanted a dog” You smiled, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to Max’s lips.

Over the next few months, you started training Teddy. He had made his first appearance on your instagram, followed by Max’s and you were really starting to love the pup even though he chewed everything to begin with.

You had trained him to play fetch, sit, roll over, wait before eating and now you were training him to lie down on command which seemed to be so much harder than the rest even though the training booklet said it was one of the easiest skills to teach a dog.

Although, for being a whippet, Teddy was really taking these skills under his wing with whippets are, known for being smart they were also known for being hard to train.

The Dutch Grand Prix felt like the perfect time for Teddy to make his paddock debut. With Teddy on his rope leash rather than the extendable leash to ensure that he didn’t get too boisterous around fans, drivers, team members, and Leo who, he had gotten to know very well. The size difference didn’t matter between the two of them once they got settled into playing.

Still being a puppy made it easy for Max to pick Teddy up for easy movement around the paddock so walking through the gates on the Thursday morning Teddy was in Max’s arms not that the little pup was too satisfied with not being able to walk.

Max soon placed him back down on the ground near a little bit of grass where Teddy decided that it was the perfect place to have some zoomies which got fans cooing at him as he spun himself in little circles on the leash.

Max pressed a kiss to your lips as his hand rested on your lower back. You smiled, turning your head to look at him.

“I’m so glad I went through with that decision that day. You seem even happier to be here today” You smiled, kissing him again.

“I need to go do some media. I’ll see you in my drivers room?” He asked, and you nodded

“You know you will. Love you” You smiled

“Love you too. There’s a little hidden treat in there for Teddy to find” He smiled walking away. You soon walked towards Max’s drivers room as Teddy got bored of his zoomies and wanted to lie somewhere more comfortable than the grass.

He was spoiled. You wouldn’t lie about that, but that was also part of being a sighthound. With sighthounds finding it uncomfortable to lie on the ground due to the way they lie from years of catching prey.

Teddy instantly started sniffing his way around Max’s driver room, with it being a new place for him he wanted to discover every place he could. His little tail wagged faster than the speed of light when he found a little stuffed bone hidden under some pillows. You couldn’t help but take a picture as you noticed the writing on the bone. “Teddy’s Bone”

A couple of months after his paddock debut was the winter break and you were now fully comfortable leaving Teddy at home out of his crate because although you agreed with crate training you hated having to leave him in there even though that crate alone was better than Max’s whole apartment at this point. All of them put together.

Max had told you that he was planning a date night, so now you were at some fancy restaurant in Monaco enjoying each other's company as you both yapped about random things.

The drive home was nice, the music softly playing in the background as you held the bouquet of flowers that Max had stopped off to get because “You can’t have a date night without flowers” as he had previously said to you. However, these weren’t your normal bouquet of fresh flowers. They weren’t even fresh because Max remembered that your hayfever didn’t like fresh flowers and you’d be feeling ill until they unfortunately died, so he got you some faux ones that could last forever.

Max draped his suit jacket over your shoulders during the walk-up to the apartment as he held your hand. Opening the door, you were expecting to be tackled to the floor by an over excited whippet, but that didn’t happen. Looking at Max confused, he shrugged a little

“Are we in the right apartment?” You whispered, following him through the house with a frown. Walking into your bedroom as the last place to attempt to find Teddy, Sassy, and Jimmy, who were all hidden.

You almost melted at the sight in front of you. Teddy lying asleep over your side of the bed with Jimmy in between his legs and Sassy next to him lazily licking Teddy’s fur. Taking a picture just as Max turned around to look at you

“Schat what’s wrong?” Max asked frowning as you wiped the tears away that had welled up in your eyes

“They’re just so cute” You pouted, and Max couldn’t help but laugh at the fact you were crying over a cute puppy and some cats.

Coming Soon

Tag List

Dogs @GlitzyDitsy

Max Verstappen @thewannabewriter @lozzamez3 @barcelonaloverf1life @hiireadstuff @mxdi0 @f1kenzzz @evie-119 @ahgase99 @velocesainz @kat-s2 @scarletwidow3000 @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tellybearryyy @zabwlky1999 @xxx-betty @callsignwidow @chocolatepoetryfun @lwstuff @destinyg237

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nova2kss · 2 months

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Influencer island

“GOOD MORNINGGG AMERICAAAAA”

“I’m your host Yanna Bailey to Influncer Island. It’s new, it’s hot, it’s dramatic, and it’s your new obsession!”

“We’re bringing all of your fav influencers and Internet personalities across the country for a steamy hot adventure”

“You all know them”

“And you all love them”

“I have hand picked these hotties myself…some ofc more known than others none the less they are all wild and ready to come in swinging!”

“Before I introduce you to the men that will participate in influencer island I think it’s fair that I give you a run down of what this show will look like!”

“These 16 hotties will come in ready to pick some partners and participate in challenges”

“Each pair will receive points based off of where they place on the board and based off votes from the viewers aka you guys”

“At the end of each episode there will be a poll placed for voting”

“You guys will be able too vote who should stay, go, and receive a punishment, or a hot date”

“With that being said let’s introduce the men of INFLUENCER ISLAND.

“Coming in first we have the famous polo boy himself”

“Armin Arlert”!

“He’s best known on instagram for being the cute polo soft boy model as stated in his bio, the internet has named him the number 1 golden retriever baby and I couldn’t agree more!”

“Armin is such a sweet heart and I know he can’t wait to be here….but with him being a sweetie pie…will he be able to hang and get wild with the rest of the contestants?”

“Especially this chipped tooth, beer drinking, horse riding, dirty country boy gone viral”

“Reiner Braun”!!

“This big beefy boy best known on that clock app has gone viral for bringing his southern ways onto the app, Reiner caught the attention of many wild men and sexy ladies and was requested by the merrier”

“Currently living in Mississippi but we all know he’s a real south Floridian gator wrestling boy. He’s the perfect match for this cast”

“Next up we got this black cat clothing owner bertoldt hoover!!”

“Best known for his brand flontae clothing and getting hella wild on them boats, don’t let the pretty eyes fool you this city boy knows how to party”

“Kristen made that cast Okay!”

“Y’all know him cause he definitely produced your favorite songs”

“He’s worked with Nicki Minaj, lil Wayne, drake, lil durk, Kanye west, and so many more”

“However when he’s not in that Stu making beats he’s out hosting the biggest parties and filming it all letting us know he was a perfect candidate for this cast!”

“This hot head was requested by the executive producer herself, we’ve seen him whoop ass in that underground ring, we’ve seen him getting wild in the streets, we’ve seen him catchin ass on twt and we wanna see MOREEE!!”

“Everyone love porco”

“But I don’t think as much as y’all love this sexy stoner”

“Constance springer the man that you are”

“He’s 6’0 tatted like a chipotle bag and he is the life of the party! This skater boy most known on TikTok and YouTube is definitely influential and definitely deserves his spot here

“As stated himself he is a fine chocolate sexy black man”

“Get this! He’s also a brand ambassador for flontae clothing who would’ve known”

“Onyankapon, such a pretty name for a pretty boy.”

“We don’t know how wild ony gets and that’s why he was picked cause the whole world wants to see, he’s seen as someone who doesn’t do much. But I’m willing to bet as soon as he steps foot on this sand that will change.”

“And last but certainly not least”.

“Eren Yeager.”

“Or jaeger”

“Regardless this man dose not need an intro at all, you’ve seen him right with Beyoncé on her ivy park campaign”

“You’ve seen him on the front page of Louis Vuitton”

“You all love him and rightfully so he is something else sporting that black motorcycle when he’s not doing them photo shoots”

“You see these men? These are who are gonna be across your screens in the next few weeks!! Now just imagine the women.”

“On the next preview we will be introducing your favorite wild ladies! It’s your host Yanna Bailey signing out!”

How do you guys feel?😁

(Not proofread)

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 1 month

Text

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

All OC Characters belong to me

Summary: He's been gone for 4 months. 118 days without a phone call or a text. What happens when he finally shows back up to work? Will he give Kaela the answers she's looking for?

Parings: Roman Reigns x Black OC

Word Count: 2.2k

EDIT: I Forgot to give props to my girl @paigereeder ! She helped me out tremendously! Without her, this jawn would not have gotten done lmao.

youtube

Friday Night Smackdown August 2nd, 2024

Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me

Kalea Crawford stared down at her phone in shock. She could feel Jade and Bianca's gaze on her so she tried to school her features but the bold headline at the top of the page made her furrow her eyebrows. She felt like she was about to throw up.

“Girl, are you okay?” Jade asked, her voice filled with concern.

“I’m fine,” Kalea replied a little too quickly, her eyes still focused on the phone. All three women knew it was a lie though. Kalea was anything but ‘fine’. If there was a word to describe how Kalea felt it was devastated. The longer she stared at the tweet the more she wanted to scream in frustration and anger. How could he do this to her?

“When’s the last time you talked to him?” Bianca spoke up this time.

“It’s been a while.” Bianca and Jade shared a look.

“How long is ‘a while’?” Jade pressed.

“I was giving him time, you know? He’s been dealing with so much these past couple of months, and I just thought.” Kalea trailed off with a shrug.

“Lele -”

“The day after Wrestlemania.” She kept her eyes cast downwards so as not to see the disappointed look on Jade and Bianca’s faces.

“Wrestlema- Girl that was four months ago!”

“I know,” Kalea whispered. She knew it was dumb but like she said, she was giving him time. He had just lost the Universal Title and had a bunch of personal shit going on. Every time she texted him, he either responded with one-word answers or he didn’t respond at all.

I don't blame you You should be done with me I don't blame you You should be done with me

Was it naive of her to think he was still her boyfriend after not speaking for four months, Yes. But, she was in love. Kalea finally looked up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I just didn’t want to push him,” she admitted softly. “I thought he needed space to figure things out.”

Jade shook her head in disbelief. "Lele, I get trying to be understanding and all, but this is next level. Four months without a single proper conversation? That's not space, that's practically radio silence."

Kalea let out a humorless chuckle as she looked back at the pictures of Roman and his ex-wife. “Well, at least now I know why he hasn’t been answering my calls.”

“You don’t deserve this,” Jade whispered and Bianca nodded, agreeing with her. “You are a bad bitch! You can get any man in here that you want.”

“Aht!” Bianca cut Jade off, holding up her index finger. “Not any man.” Kalea laughed as she wiped away her tears.

“Girl, you know what I meant. Don��t nobody want Kenneth's ass but you.” Jade pushed Bianca’s shoulder. “Anyway, fuck Roman.”

I should've waited somehow I shouldn't have pushed so hard I always push too hard And now it's just a blackout

Kalea was grateful for her girls, but in the back of her mind, there was this nagging thought that his ghosting her was all her fault. She should have waited. She should have peeped game. Maybe if she had kept her mouth shut she would have been the one in his arms at the beach.

What the fuck was she thinking? Why had she sent him that fucking text message? She kept replaying the moment she hit send on that message, wishing she could take it back. He had already told her not not fall in love with him, but how couldn’t she?

“Unh-Uh. No!” Jade exclaimed, knocking Kalea out of her thoughts. “You are not gonna sit there and wallow. Him being a dickhead is not your fault!” Even though she and Jade had only been friends for about 4 months, she could read her like a book. “I will not sit here and let you cry over him! No, wipe them tears, and go fix your makeup.” Kalea scoffed out a chuckle as she looked at Bianca who held her hands up defensively.

“You heard her. Go get yourself together.”

SummerSlam August 3rd 2024

kalea_wwe

liked by jadecargill, biancabelairwwe, and 193,867 others

kalea_wwe: so, if I don't win, y'all gon riot right?

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trinity_fatu: u took this out my closet didn't you?

↪kalea_wwe : 🤫

jadecargill: that's my future champ! (❤️ liked by author)

rachelanoai: @ vananoai: this her right?

↪kalea_wwe: this ain't what u want sis.

↪jadecargill: blocked! just like that 🤣(❤️ liked by author)

I should've treated you better Used to deal with lames 'til she ran into a stepper

If looks could kill, Joe would have dropped dead where he stood backstage talking with Paul Heyman. He could feel their glares as he stood there going over tonight's plans. He knew he was an asshole for what he did to Kalea, but he was scared. Her love scared the fuck outta him. Being in love with her scared the fuck outta him. To everyone else, he was Roman Reigns, The Tribal Chief, The Head of the Table, but to her… to Kalea, he was just Joe.

Kalea didn’t care about any of that. She didn’t care if he was the Undisputed Champion or the face of the company. She saw him for him. And that terrified him more than any opponent he had faced in the ring. The vulnerability Kalea stirred in him was a weakness he couldn't afford to have, not with his reputation on the line. He had pushed her away to protect himself, but all he had done was push away the one person who truly saw him.

“Big Uce!.” Joe felt a genuine smile come over his face as he turned to see Josh approaching with his usual easy-going grin.“Whats good man!” Josh then turned to Paul. “OG,” He saw Josh’s eyes shift from his face to behind him. “Wassup with them?” Joe sighed and turned his head slightly to look at Bianca and Jade who still looked like they wanted to kill him.

“Nothing just-” Joe replied, stopping short as he felt all the air leave his body when he saw Kalea walk up to Jade and Bianca dressed in her ring gear. This was the first time he laid eyes on her and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. Kalea's presence stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within Joe, his heart aching with regret and longing. Her eyes met his briefly, a flicker of hurt and disappointment clouding her gaze before she turned her attention back to Jade and Bianca.

He couldn't bear the weight of her gaze, the silent accusation piercing his soul. Joe clenched his fists, trying to suppress the overwhelming guilt. He knew he had to make things right with Kalea, to explain himself and beg for her forgiveness. But would she even listen?

Kalea had a timid smile on her face as she looked at her two best friends. “Girl you look bomb!” Bianca said and Kalea let out a breath.

“How you feeling?” Jade asked, her eyes flickering behind Kalea’s head before flicking back to Kalea.

Kalea’s smile faltered a bit. She went to turn her head to look behind her, to see if Joe was still there but Jade grabbed her cheeks and held her head. “Jade,” Kalea trailed off with an eye roll.

“How. are. you. feeling?” Jade repeated.

Kalea sighed “I feel fine, a little nervous but I got this. You are looking at the newEST WWE Women’s Champion. ”

“Alright now!”

“Oh fuck.” Jade whispered, her smile had dropped and now a panicked look was on her face.

Kalea’s brows furrowed. She opened her mouth to ask what the problem was, but before she could get it out, the problem spoke.

“Kalea, can we talk?” Kalea felt her heart start to beat faster as she turned to look at Joe. He had his hair slicked back into a bun, his new OTC merch, some sweatpants, and a pair of Air Jordan 1s.

“I-”

“She can’t” Biance spoke for her, arms crossed over her chest as she and Jade mugged Joe. Joe sucked in a deep breath already annoyed with Jade and Bianca.

“Kalea?” He ignored Bianca’s statement, keeping his eyes on Kalea.

“I won’t be long.” She said softly to Jade and Bianca. Bianca looked like she wanted to protest but Jade placed a hand on her shoulder and led her away from Kalea and Joe.

I was fine with you bein' one of my hoes, for sure She said she seen us bein' somebody goals, what are those? I thought about givin' you the key to my heart, but it's froze

Kalea walked a few steps away with Joe, a mixture of nerves and curiosity swirling in her stomach. This is it. She thought. She kept her eyes downcast as they made their way to an empty part of the stadium. She could feel his eyes on hers but couldn’t find it in her to look up at him.

“Kalea, can you look at me please?” The emotion in his voice shook her to her core. As she slowly lifted her gaze to meet Joe's, she felt her heart skip a beat at the intensity of his stare. His eyes held a mixture of vulnerability and determination, making her breath catch in her throat. “I’m sorry.” He finally whispered after a moment of them just standing there, staring into each other’s eyes. “I should have responded to your messages.”

“Why didn’t you?” The pain in her voice damn near broke him. “An ‘i’m alive’ would have sufficed Joseph.”

“Kalea –”

You know the love was X-rated, it's how we made it

“It was because of my text message wasn’t it?” She cut him off. “You –, Because I told you I loved you? That’s why you ghosted me?” She wrapped her arms around herself as if she was bracing herself for his response.

Joe’s face fell as she shifted on his feet, his guilt apparent. He took a deep breath as if steeling himself against a storm. “It’s not that simple,” he began, but Kaela cut him off.

“Not that simple?” She scoffed, her arms falling to her sides. “So fucking me was simple, but loving me isn’t?”

“Kalea that not –”

“No, I totally get it.” She cut him off with a chuckle but wasn’t shit funny. “You were okay with the physical part, but when it came to actually feeling something, that was too much for you.”

Joe took a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to maintain control over his emotions. “Kalea, it’s not that I didn’t care. It’s—”

“Not that you didn’t care?” Kalea rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you cared, you would have faced it head-on. Instead, you just ran away, like a coward. I understand you told me not to fall in love with you, but you shouldn’t have been doing all the right shit for me to fall in love.” Kalea angrily wiped away the tears that fell. “All the dates and the – the little gestures. The way you looked at me, the way you held me. How was I supposed to not fall in love with that!?” She was damn near shouting now and she was grateful the part of the arena they were in was empty besides the two of them.

She needed angles, I need angels, I'm fightin' Satan Leave me faded, I feel painless, I go out gracious I'm tryna feel a shade of greatness by celebratin' Bring entertainment, goin' brainless, like goin' dumb on my hiatus

Joe knew he messed up. He knew it when he ignored her first phone call. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He just wanted her to know how fucking sorry he was.

Kalea shrugged "Sorry doesn't cut it,. Not this time. "

She turned to leave, but Joe reached out, grasping her wrist gently. "Wait, please. Let me explain."

Kalea pulled her wrist out of his grip. “It’s a little too late don’t you think Roman?” Joe’s heart fell to his ass. Roman? She was calling him Roman now? “You had four months to explain. But you didn’t want to explain to me then huh? You didn’t want to answer any of my text messages or phone calls. No, I wasn’t good enough for you. But I guess you’re ex-wife was.”

Joe furrowed his eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. It’s not cute.” She pulled her phone from out of her bra and went to her Twitter, going to her bookmarks page and pulling up the tweet from TMZ. She shoved her phone in Joe’s hand.

If Joe didn’t feel like shit before, he definitely felt like shit now. He hadn’t even seen anyone with cameras that day. Before he could say anything, before he could explain and beg for her forgiveness, she snatched the phone out of his hand.

Kalea's eyes were burning with anger and hurt. "Four months. Four months of silence, and then I see this?” She scoffed, shaking her head as she started to back away from him. “Just –, leave me alone.” She whispered, giving him one last longing look before walking away from him.

Joe’s heart ached as he watched her leave, the depth of his mistakes more apparent than ever. He wanted to call out to her, to explain, to make things right, but the weight of his actions left him paralyzed.

Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me Where will you go now? Now that you're done with me Where will you go now? Now that you're done- 'Til further notice 'Til further notice 'Til further notice (we'll keep you posted) 'Til further notice (I'll keep you posted)

WooHoo! Finally

I'm debating on making a part two. But I kinda like how I left it. .. sike, y'all know there's definitely gonna be a part two.

Lemme know what y'all think, this was my first time really sitting down and writing Roman (hope it's not too OOC)

❤ Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

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*Im sorry if I missed anybody*

#Youtube #roman reigns #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x black oc #roman reigns x fem reader #roman reigns fanfic #wwe x black oc #wwe x black reader #wwe x fem reader #wwe fanfiction #roman reigns angst #wwe angst

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spacerockfloater · 3 months

Note

hi! i noticed you learnt about what ryan condal said regarding blood and cheese. it was…something. i would like to know your thoughts on the matter. though it would be completely understandable if you need sometime to gather them together or if you would rather not at all! thank you and bye!

Hello beloved, thank you so much for asking me! I’d love to share my opinion!

If anyone’s wondering, @rhaenelle is referring to this interview where Ryan Condal essentially says he believes that Blood & Cheese’s brutality and heinousness was exaggerated by the Greens in a propagandistic attempt to convince their subjects that Rhaenyra and Daemon are the worst villains ever born, hence why he toned the event down; to show us what he thinks is the accurate version of Jaehaerys’ murder.

Now, I am aware that Condal had already warned us that HOTD was going to be a feminist retelling of the events of F&B, which practically means that his plan has always been to whitewash the everlasting fuck out of Rhaenyra. So what do I think about this?

Well, for starters, I think that Ryan Condal is an excellent businessman. He knows what kind of tropes are going to make the audience engage with his show. He understands that people need a hero to cheer for and a villain to hate, therefore he removed the moral ambiguity from all of the characters and divided them into two categories: the Blacks, enlightened revolutionaries full of passion, deserving of admiration and correct in everything they do, and the Greens, pious fools with a moral superiority complex who are stack in the ways of the past and commit despicable crimes. The average viewer does not possess the intelligence to comprehend that both parties have their good and bad moments, and that they’re both correct in fighting for what each believes is rightfully theirs. Simultaneously, he benefits from the modern trends that want women in media to take revenge when they are wronged and emerge as triumphant girlbosses, because of course a white upper class woman’s suffering in a western world (or Westeros) society has everything to do with her gender and nothing to do with her personality or decisions (even if this works solely for Rhaenyra, because Alicent seems to be held accountable for every single one of her actions). Finally, it is obvious that Condal is trying to appease disgruntled Daenerys fans, so he has rebuilt Rhaenyra into this tortured martyr that wishes to change the world for the better in an attempt to make her resemble her great granddaughter six times removed.

For all of these reasons, I find it very logical that he is going out of his way to minimise the tragedy the Greens experience. It just doesn’t make Rhaenyra look good and honestly, who wants that? The producers saw how unhappy Danny’s stans were when they made her lose her shit; they’re not going to make the same mistake twice. They don’t want their show to tank like the last season of GOT did, so they’ll do everything in their power to keep the audience happy. And it’s working! What’s the last thing Condal says in this clip? “You kinda start rooting for [Blood and Cheese]!” and boy oh boy, the TB stans sure do! Literally hundreds of memes that rejoiced at Jaehaerys’ death were posted on X this week, with tens of thousands of likes. But when Lucerys died, it was presented as the most foul thing to ever happen in the ASOIAF universe. It is the TB supporters that dictate which child murder is good and which is bad, and that decision usually depends on which child came out Rhaenyra’s womb, not let’s say, the fact that one kid was a toddler that could barely walk, while the other was a teenager that laughed at the disabled person he mutilated himself.

It’s all just marketing

That being said, I want to clarify that I understand why Condal and the HOTD producers do what they do, but being a good entrepreneur does not necessarily make you a literary genius. Now, I’m not gonna explain why stripping Rhaenyra off of every character trait that made her interesting is a bad decision and that in their attempt to remove the blame from her so that they can elevate her as this righteous patron of feminism, they’re accidentally removing all of her agency and turning her simply into a victim, because I have a whole blog dedicated to that. But let’s just say that presenting Rhaenyra as this sexually liberated idol that’s incapable of evil, when in fact she’s an entitled aristocrat who’s completely at the mercy of men around her, from her father to her husbuncle, is the most performative activism move ever pulled in recent TV history, as well as pushing the narrative that Alicent suffers from internalised misogyny because duh, a woman can only be good and a feminist if she supports Rhaenyra, not when she pursues her own interests.

Ultimately, I think we just have to accept that this show is not meant for TG fans. We are not going to find any satisfaction in it. Everything that was unique and admirable about the Greens in the book has vanished. Their family dynamic is fucked up, Alicent’s children hate her, Aegon and Halaena cannot stand one another, Alicent is constantly a victim and never someone that chases her own ambitions, Halaena is very vague, Aemond appears to be more angsty than angry, Aegon is a stupid rapist, Jaehaerys’ death was turned into a mockery, Alicole was weaponised in order to make us shit on Alicent and Criston even more and so on. This show barely caters to us because we’re not making them any money.

The reason that there are more TB than TG stans is because (I’m gonna get so much fucking hate for this) most people who watch TV are fucking morons. I swear, when F&B came out 6 years ago, no one gave a flying fuck about Rhaenyra, because we all understood that everyone involved in the Dance of the Dragons was fucked up in their own way and that the message of this story, just like the general message of ASOIAF, is that nobody deserves to sit on that fucking throne. We were all in agreement about that. But then this fucking show came along and all the oblivious simpletons that swallowed whatever the producers shoved down their throats, grabbed the book and decided that “Woah, this book is obviously a critique on patriarchy and Rhaenyra is obviously the victim of the story”! As if GRRM, the man who said that he doesn’t sit down and think “Oh, I’m going to write a woman now” but instead he believes women to be people just like men, with complex personalities, would ever do that. And they just can’t believe that it is possible for book!Rhaenyra to be an evil racist classist full of entitlement! Surely it must be because the Greens are rewriting history! There’s no way GRRM, the man that created Cersei fucking Lannister, would ever make a female character that’s vicious and crazy just because she feels like it! Y’all need to sit down for a moment. I say this as a radical feminist that supports the 4B movement: you’re projecting your own ideas onto George’s work. Not all the media we consume has to reflect our ideologies, but if you think that it has to, then this book isn’t the anti misogynistic masterpiece you wish it was.

Like, when it comes to F&B, I am firmly anti Targaryen and did not wish for any side to win. I wanted them all wiped out to be honest. But when it comes to HOTD, I’m TG basically out of spite at this point.

All in all, I just think that things are going to go downhill for us from this point on. They’ll just keep glorifying the Blacks until the very end.

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rogueabs · 11 days

Text

Guilty as Sin

My bedsheets are ablazeI've screamed her nameBuilding up like wavesCrashing over my graveWithout ever touching her skinHow can I be guilty as sin? “- Guilty as Sin, Taylor Swift

You had built an image of yourself to your family, one your friends wanted you to break free from. They didn’t understand what it was to see the people that gave you life, seeing your identity and who you love as a sin. Meeting Abby for a one night stand painted brightly what you couldn't see before, her touch, how your bodies fit, that’s what heaven was.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut!

Word count: 2450

photo from @thelosstvalkyrie

“Ellie stop”, you recall telling your best friend you didn’t need a set-up.

“Look (Y/N), there's nothing wrong with you liking women, why are you so afraid?” you couldn't take it anymore and the last time you recall is slapping Ellie and running away from her apartment.

H-how could she do this to you, she knows exactly why you’re afraid. All of your one night stands with women she knows so well about, you had to “please your sins” as your mother once described when she found you kissing Claire in middle school.

“There’s nothing wrong with what you did darling, but it is a sin, do you want to not meet grandma in heaven? One day you’ll meet a nice young man to grow old with.”

And that’s what you did, as a way to let them believe they raised the perfect heterosexual daughter.

You decided to do what you knew better, a tinder hook-up.

You swiped and swiped left until you saw her… Abby. She had pictures of herself flexing at the gym, a picture of her on a bar and all you could focus your gaze on was how beautiful her strong hands looked wrapped around the beer bottle. Without thinking twice you swiped right and you saw the stunning “it’s a match pop-up”.

In her bio she stated that she was in med school and you decided to be corny and text her “If I knew a doctor could look this good I would be sick more often to pay you a visit.”

“Now would you?” the blonde texted back.

For the next 2 hours you both texted back and forth, sharing each other's phone number. You had never been so hooked on a woman through a phone, you needed her.

“Want to go out for a drink tonight?”

Unfortunately you didn’t the reply you desired, “I have a final exam tomorrow, but we could meet afterwards, my treat;)”

You replied agreeing to the delayed date and a few minutes later you received a text with a photo attached.

“I’m taking a break right now, want to call?” you were practically drooling looking at the photo Abby sent you, her in a black tank top with boxers on, her brawny hand holding her shirt up showing her sculpted abs, the angle showed how well built and muscular and big thighs were.

You weren’t a stranger at the game of sexting until someone drove to someone's house to please the ache and pool forming in between your legs, but the arousal of not being able to get what you craved made it so much more exciting. You were wearing a baggy band shirt you stole from a hook up a few years ago, underneath it nothing besides a lacy thong. Knowing your angles made it so much more fun, preparing to send her a small video showcasing the clothes on your body you wanted her to tear apart.

“All yours if you desire.”

It took seconds until the sent, turned into a seen. She texted to give her five minutes and you ran all giddy to your bed in anticipation. Your phone rang and you picked up so quickly it made you feel like a teenager waiting for your crush to reply.

“Hi Baby”, she began the call, “You looked so good in that video, what do you get from being such a tease…”

Smirking at her response you simply said “I know how to please to get what i want.”

“Oh you do, don’t you?, I might have to rip that smirk off your face, my pretty girl.”

“So, what's the purpose of this call baby?” you questioned knowing the answer.

“Don’t play dumb baby, you know damn hell I want to take that lacy thong off with my teeth and tease you until you deserve it, what I would give to hear you beg for my fingers.”

All you gave her was a laugh and that made her fume, you could hear it in her tone “You’ll do what I tell you, and all I want to hear from you from now on is Yes darling.”

You caved in, you couldn't hold in any longer, the way her voice sounded made you wetter, the few clothes you had to cover you from nudity were so tight and annoying on your body “Yes darling.”

“Good girl… Tell me, how do you like it? Slow, rough… Oh baby if I were there I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you.Touch yourself baby, picture my fingers crawling down your neck.”

“A-abby”, you softly whimper her name while your fingers make their way down to relieve the ache you felt tying on your core.

“My name sounds so beautiful coming out of your mouth baby…” you heard her swallow a moan down.

The call lasted for one hour, it was filled with lewd noises, curses, pet names and how you were wrapped around her fingers, her velvety voice, her delicious whimpers of your name, you wanted to please her in any way you could.

You had to take a shower after that call, trying to clean yourself away from the sin of desiring that gorgeous woman to bend you, to hold you and crave you on your knees.

Before going to sleep you texted her sweet dreams texts, you couldn't get her out of your mind. She updated you on her day and at what time she had her exam, what both of you had for lunch. You picked a maroon dress to wear for tonight, it framed your body and accentuated your ass, if you could you would eat you out too.

Sending her a photo of the outfit to know her opinion she replied with what you least expected:

“Baby we’re staying in, I need you.”

You couldn’t help but tease her every minute until she arrived at your doorstep. Preparing your favourite red wine, you left the chinese take out menu from downstairs in case she wanted to eat due to being stressed all day with her exam. Why did you care about a woman you had phone sex with last night, shaking the thought off when you heard your doorbell ring.

Opening the door you greeted her with a kiss on the cheek “Hi baby.” Eyeing her up and down you had to admire how strong and divinely her arms were built, she was wearing loose cargo pants and a white button down rolled at the sleeves.

Smirking, she greeted you back, placing a hand behind your back waiting for your guidance inside.

You saw her mentally undressing you, the way she licked her lips looking you up and down drove you insane, you quickly offered her the glass of wine you served.

“Thank you darling, for treating me so well.” The way she talked was smoother than the wine you were swallowing, it was driving you insane.

Putting the glass down you got closer to Abby, fingers drawing up and down her arms, “So… Where are we going baby?”

Confidently she smirked, placing a hand on your face, caressing it with her calloused fingers, she placed on your lips “I thought I said we weren’t going anywhere”, she turned to you, spreading her legs open with her free hand going up and down her thigh “I want to thank you, for looking so absolutely stunning, the wine…”, Abby got up placing the hand that was on your face to your neck, and now brushing your hair behind your ear, she got closer, you could feel her warm breath sending shivers down your body “I want to hear you scream my name tonight.” she whispered in your ear, this made you wetter than you could have possibly have ever been before, no woman has ever driven you this crazy, the arousal was built to an extent you couldn’t bear anymore it was embarrasing.

“Is that what you want?” She asks you, her hand still steady on your neck.

You frantically nod yes, “Can I kiss you darling?” with that question you latched your lips to hers hungrily. There was hair tugging, your tongues battling for dominance, lip biting and you couldn't even dare to come up for air, drunk on this intimacy and excitement.

Abby threw you on your couch, trapping you underneath her strong frame, nibbling on your ears, biting and sucking down your neck, you were so sure those bruises looked ethereal and marked on you for days, and you weren’t mad. You tugged on her braid, making her produce an hungry growl for you touch, both eager for more Abby jumped up and took her buttoned shirt off fast, leaving her in sports bra that cupped her perky breasts perfectly, focused on the show she was giving you felt the wet spot on your underwear growing. “C’mon pretty girl, stand up.” Abby ordered you, “Turn around for me, I need this fucking dress gone.”

You allowed her to unzip it, letting it run off your body, leaving you only in your panties, a bra didn’t really match the dress, nor did it look good with it, giving Abby a reason to snicker at you “All of this for me, damn… you really are a whore.” She grabbed your tits from behind, admiring them, feeling them, afraid to let them go and to lose such a sight for bare eyes, when she let go, she turned you around, spread her legs and demanded you to sit on her lap.

Sitting down she looked at you up and down, murmuring a soft fuck, “Darling if you don’t want this tell me okay?” you place your hand behind her head, playing with the loose strands of her hair “I want you, I crave you baby.” you replied tugging at her hair, grinding on her crotch.

Abby kissed you, passionately, it was a needy kiss, a hunger only you could ease. Her hands travelled to your back, to your thighs, her lips explored and kissed your nipples, earning some moans of your pleasure made her more aroused.

“P-please” you choked out “Baby please fuck me.” you said looking her in the eyes.

Abby complied and her hands travelled down your clothed pussy, fingers drawing circles on your clit, slow and hard. “I don’t want you to hold back, pretty girl,” She said, picking up the pace, “I want everyone in this building to know whose pussy this is.”

You were a screaming mess, breaking underneath her hands, you were grinding into her digits, she slid them in, two, curling them in fast in all the right places. Suddenly she stopped and told you to get them off, and you quickly did so, tossing them near the dress. “Come here pretty girl”, Abby said, nudging the fingers that were inside you seconds ago, she licked clean, “You’re going get on your knees, and unzip my pants okay?” You nodded and did as told, unzipping them you noticed she had a strap on, you could smell the arousal through the arness, your mouth watering at the sight of her and of what you were about to do.

Kicking her pants off, Abby grabbed your hair into a ponytail, cocked your head back “Open up.” she said in a raspy voice. Spitting your mouth, you swallowed and opened your mouth for her to see. “You’re going to suck my cock okay baby? Get it all wet and ready for your tight pussy.” She pushed your head in her crotch and you did as you were told, moaning into her cock you could see her eyes closing in pleasure, the pretty girl you were sucking off was too busy swearing under her breath and it turned you on even more.

Abby pulled you up, picking your body up and placing it on the couch, she opened your legs and played with her plastic cock in your entrance, sliding it up and down, up and down in your slick “Do you want it?” she asked.

“Yes, Yes I do” you replied looking in her eyes.

“Tell me you want it darling.” she said behind grinding teeth harshly, “Fuck me please,Abby, I fucking need you to ruin me.” you replied in a whine, desperate for your release that has been building up, as much as you enjoy edging this wasn’t fun, you need to let her taste you, hear you, to devour you.

After your excited consent Abby chuckled and slid her cock in, fast, and so hard you felt yourself have no time to clench around her “You’re going to be good and take it okay?” You screamed a yes so loudly your neighbour probably got scared shitless. She pounded into you with the purpose of hearing your delicious moans feeling up the room, she started going slower, softer and then hard, she was playing with you, and you couldn't take it, your hands started going down to your clit, searching to get you off, Abby caught you and trapped your wrist above your head, “You could have just asked nicely you whore,” she got off from top of you. Pulling you up carefully, she sat down, and just like you were before, Abby spread her legs “Ride my cock baby.”

You got on top of her, slowly sinking in her cock, she placed your hands behind your back, trapping your arms with one of her strong hands while the other was busy playing with your clit.

“C’mon baby, you were so eager to cum” Abby said, making you grind faster, making yourself riding her harder, reaching deeper, you could feel your release growing, the not on your stomach was going to burst soon “Fu-Fuck baby, I’m so fucking close.” you threw your head back.

“Cum on my cock baby, I want to feel you clench so tightly around me you’ll feel me for weeks.” She was also panting and moaning like crazy, the hunger in the room was palpable, the room smelled of sex, sweat and passion.

In minutes you were both reaching your highs, filling the apartment with wet and loud moans and praises for each other.

Abby helped you get up, she was caring, which wasn’t really what you were used to, maybe this wasn’t a one night stand. Sitting you down on the couch, trying to catch your breath, Abby was getting her harness off, placing it on your coffee table, she sat down next to you, caressing your hair and tracing her fingers softly on your face.

“Do you by any chance want to stay over?” you boldly asked the beautiful woman in front of you.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

#abby anderson #abby anderson tlou2 #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #lesbian #sapphic #tlou2 #tlou #wlw smut

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wardenparker · 9 months

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New Year's Surprise

Jack Daniels x plus size female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 18.7k Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, internalized fatphobia, self esteem issues, pining, meddlesome friends, unwanted attention from a male coworker, light spanking, praise, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, Jack likes being scratched up, reader is described as having fingernails long enough to scratch (no specific length given), the love is requited they're just idiots. Summary: Ginger has a plan to get you and Jack to admit you have feelings for each other. She did not anticipate just how well it would work... Notes: Happy almost New Year everyone! Enjoy a little more winter seasonal smut and fluff from us to you 🥂🍾✨

"You're sure it's not too much, Ging?" Turning in front of the full-length mirror in Ginger's apartment, you inspect the glittering black cocktail dress that your friend helped you pick out at the mall during all those after-Christmas sales she promised you that you would find something at. She was right, like she always is, but now that the dress is on you, you're wondering if you haven't made a mistake. If it's not too revealing, or too short, or too tight.

Whoever in HR came up with this insane Cowboys and Flappers theme for the company New Year's Eve party deserved to have their head examined. You're not the femme fatale agent that gets sent out to seduce men and collect their secrets. Few men out there in the world are ever really seduced by the chubby girl in any given scenario, but it did tend to make you invisible. Invisible women can slip in and out of buildings in literally any kind of uniform and get through security without ever being harassed, and that works to your advantage on almost every case. Unfortunately, it also means that for the five years you've been a Statesman agent, you've also been fairly invisible to the man you've developed feelings for.

It’s perfect.” No matter how many times Ginger Ale tells you that you are sexy just the way you are, that insecurity gets the best of you. “I’m telling you, you will have every eye in the place.”

“I doubt it.” You sigh in the mirror and smooth your hands over the sequined dress one more time. “But that’s okay. I don’t want every set of eyes…”

“I know what set of eyes you want on you.” Your taste in men is your own, and Ginger won’t fault you for it, but she wonders why Jack. “It might do the man good to know that he’s got competition.” You don’t believe her when she says that it’s more telling that Jack doesn’t hit on you, but it’s the truth.

“He doesn’t, though.” Shrugging, you turn away from the mirror and decide to just go on with the night. Wishing won’t make it real and Jack Daniels barely looks at you. Even though you’ve partnered on cases, spend time together in and out of the office, and are arguably friends in every true sense? You’ve always wanted more with him. The only person who knows is Ginger, though, and you prefer to keep it that way since Jack will never return your affection. “And that’s…it is what it is. Even if you’re the only person I dance with tonight, it’ll still be fun.”

“Wearing that dress?” Ginger snorts as she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I’ll have the faith for both of us, how about that?” She knows that Jack won’t be able to resist you tonight, not when she’s lined up a few of the junior agents to dance with you already. It’s time that Jack settles down and finds some happiness, and what better time than the New Year?

******

While you easily could have had the party at Statesman considering the size of the grounds, Champ wouldn’t hear of it. He’s hosting the damn thing himself come hell or high water, in his favourite suit with his wife dressed to the 9’s in her flapper dress, and more caterers than you’ve ever seen in your life all making his early twentieth century coal baron’s mansion look as resplendent as the day it was built. The place is palatial, with a ballroom so big that the band he’s hired looks tiny in one corner despite being six-men strong. It’s music and liquor and appetizers passing by on trays when you and Ginger walk through the door, and you gasp at how nice it all looks.

“I know he does it every year,” you sigh to your best friend. “But the theme is always different and I swear somehow the house always looks better on new year’s.”

“Champ does know how to throw one hell of a party.” She agrees, snagging two glasses of champagne from a waiter as she walks by. Her own sleek flapper dress is a vivid purple, making her beautiful skin glow and for tonight, she’s wearing contacts. Her short hair is perfectly styled, a cap like illusion, highlighted with the crystal headband she’s picked. “To a New Year we will never forget.” She hands you one glass and adds, “or regret.”

“You’re certainly optimistic.” You flash her and grin and tap the rim of your glass against hers. “Finally going to talk to Alicia or is this just positive vibes?” It’s been two years since Ginger started crushing on the woman who supervises Statesman campus tours and visitor experience, but she hasn’t made a move yet. Being frozen in place with someone you care about is something the two of you have in common.

“Positive vibes.” She huffs, rolling her eyes and trying to change the subject. “Look! There’s Tequila!” She waves the younger agent over to where you are standing. “You made it! Didn’t think you were ever gonna get back from Brazil, or if you wanted to.” She adds with a grin.

“Those are two very different questions.” Tequila agrees with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. Did he have to come back? Sure. But did he want to leave the comfort and luxury of that beautiful woman’s bed? Not at all. “But I would not have missed dancing with you ladies for the world,” he adds with a wink. He’s very much in on Ginger’s plan, after all, and is looking forward to the fireworks it will bring.

You fluster slightly at his words, but Ginger knows that you don’t have your cap set on Tequila. You just don’t handle compliments well. “You’ll have to get in line.” Ginger warns him with a smirk. “As good as Rye looks tonight, every man in here is going to want a dance. After I dance with her first.”

“Well I reckon I’ll have to be second, then.” Tequila puts in a playful pout. “But only because I would never deny Miss Ginger Ale gettin to be first.” He smiles again and tips his hat, having opted to wear his best Stetson with an elegant Kingsman suit. “You don’t have to,” you insist, knowing Tequila always has more choices of dance and bedroom partners than he could ever feasibly make his way through. “I’m sure you have other people you want to dance with tonight.”

“No one important.” Tequila smirks as he drags his eyes up and down your outfit and whistles slowly. “And no one nearly as pretty.” He promises.

“Liar.” Though you roll your eyes at him, you don’t protest anymore than that. He’s your friend, after all. And if he wants to waste his time dancing with you, you’ll just enjoy it. Tequila’s a fantastic dancer, after all.

“Never lie to you, honey.” Tequila croons, taking your hand and lifting it to his lips. “Lie about what?” The voice comes from your left and all eyes swing that way.

“Jack!” Normally you know he’s coming. The smell of earthy, expensive cologne and the tap-click-shuffle of his boots on polished floors. The soft humming he gets up to when he’s pleased with himself, not quite melodic but endearing because it means he’s happy. But you sensed none of that just now, too caught up in the band playing and the fragrant flowers and the tickle of bubbly in your nose and throat. “Nothing. We were just talking about dancing…” He looks like a dream, and it makes you sick to your stomach and elated all at once. Another night of watching him fawn over every woman but you is what you’ve resigned yourself to putting up with, but it’s just rude of him to look so damn handsome in that black velvet double breasted suit and sleek black Stetson while he does it.

“Dancing, hum?” His eyes narrow slightly at the grip Tequila has on your hand and he wants to reach out and slap it away, but he just shoots everyone an easy grin. “Ready to cut a rug tonight, eh?”

"I guess so." The shyness that threatens to shoot straight through you is knocked off kilter by Ginger, who hoots in response. "She's got her dance card all filled up already, Whiskey. Should've gotten here earlier," she tells him with a smirk.

His mustache ticks, it’s the only change to his facial expression. “I’m sure Rye can squeeze me in.” His dark amber eyes slide over to you and swipe up and down your body. “Can’t you, sugar?”

"Of course." You'd throw over the whole goddamn list for him. Besides, you have no idea what Ginger could possibly mean by saying your 'card' is full. One dance with her and one with Tequila isn't a full anything. "Of course I can."

“Good. Then how about I refresh you ladies’ drinks?” Jack asks, slapping Tequila on the back a little rougher than necessary. “Come help me with that.”

"Sure." Tequila grunts, throwing you a confused expression like he can't figure out why the hell Jack needs help getting champagne when waiters with trays are everywhere, but he shoots Ginger a secret smirk before following Jack into the next room where the open bar is set up.

“Tonight will be perfect.” Ginger predicts with a smug grin as she watches the two men walk towards the open bar. .

“What the hell are you doin’, flirtin’ with Rye?” Jack’s easy grin falls away and his brows knit together as soon as his back is turned to you. “You know that girl ain’t your type.”

"I can't be nice to my friend?" Tequila asks, pretending to be positively aghast that Jack would suggest he's up to anything else. One hand ever goes to his chest with a dramatic gasp.

Jack’s eyes cut towards the other agent, a frown on his face. “It’s one goddamn thing to be nice, it’s another to flirt.”

"When did I flirt?" The younger agent counters, knowing full well that's what he was doing but not about to admit it because he wants to make Jack stew.

“You were flirtin’ the second you can outta your momma, but you gotta learn there’s certain girls you don’t do that shit with.” Jack growls, stopping in front of the bar and holding up two fingers. “Double 62 Triple Barreled.” He orders, wanting one of the rare whiskeys that Champ had broken out tonight. “And two champagnes.”

"Now, why is that, Jack?" Tequila hums, looking down at his friend. Jack isn't too much shorter than him, but just enough to annoy the older agent on occasion. "Why is Rye one of those girls?"

“Because…” that’s where his argument ends, because there’s not really a reason beyond his own feelings. “It’s…unprofessional.” He decides. “She’s an agent for Christ’s sake.”

Tequila snorts at this string of logic, accepting his drink from the pretty bartender with a wink and sliding a large bill into the tip glass on the bar top before looking back at Jack. "That's a load of horse shit and you know it, Daniels. You fucking know it."

He does know it, but he snatches his own drink up and rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He hates that his stomach twists and he wonders if you had been flirting back. Looking over his shoulder at where you are standing, he clenches his jaw at the tassels that are swaying every time you move. “Don’t get her damn hopes up.” He takes a sip of his whiskey. “We both know you ain’t gonna fuck her.”

"Nor does she want me to." This is gonna be a hell of a lot easier than he and Ginger thought, if Jack is always so fuckin wound up over you and he only just arrived for the night. "I ain't the one she has her eye on and everybody with eyes knows it."

Jack ignores that, huffing to himself as he tries to hid the fucking jealousy that curls in his gut at whoever you do have your eye on. Lucky son of a bitch. “No fuckin’ talkin’ to you, hardheaded S.O.B.” The champagne glasses are in front of him and he downs the rest of the drink to slap the crystal glass down and snatch up the flutes. Turning around without another word and stalking across the room towards you and Ginger.

It's only one room he has to cross, but by the time he gets there, Agent Brandy has sidled up beside you and Ginger and has his fingers ever so subtly on your elbow while bends his head and puts all his focus directly on you.

Halfway across the room, Jack jerks to a halt and growls, shaking his head as he resumes the walk and forces a moderately friendly smile on his face. “Didn’t think you’d be back from Korea, Don.” He interrupts as he arrives back at your group.

"Two days ago." Brandy flashes a smile in Jack's general direction but keeps his focus on you. "Glad I made it back in time, too. Champ throws a hell of a party."

His eye twitches but Jack nods. “Yeah he does. Shoulda brought that little gal you were seein’. Brandy. Brenda right? Or was it Bambi?” He shrugs. “Maybe all of them at once, knowin’ you.”

"Now don't be unkind, Jack." Brandy's eyes cut over to the older agent and Brandy offers what could be considered a modestly dramatic pout. "Or Rye might think the worst of me and throw me over for that dance I just got promised."

Jack seethes beneath the smile on his face. “Would hate for that to happen.” He lies, handing Ginger one of the glasses and then offers the other to you.

The glass is offered with a smile and you thank Jack, savoring even the tiniest moment of contact between brushing fingers as he hands it over. It's probably bordering on pathetic, how long you've carried this torch for Jack, and it seems like Ginger is really trying to encourage you tonight to come out of your shell tonight but you just don't know. As nice as everyone is being, it doesn't feel right. The only thing that feels right is when you're around Jack. It's just a damn shame that he doesn't feel the same.

It’s almost painful how the simple, innocent touch affects him. Now visceral his reaction is. Only the training that Statesman has given him keeps him from showing anything. “Well,” he hates to tear himself away, but he can’t be around you for too long. “I better go talk to Champ about some cases he wants worked tomorrow.” He offers.

"It's a party," you remind him, smile flickering as he steps back. Obviously the small touch that you'll be savoring for the rest of the night has had the opposite effect on him. But there's no need to show that. Not when it's fully expected that he doesn't want to be around you when there are plenty of other people to talk to and women to dance with. "Don't work too hard, okay?"

“Never do,” he nods at everyone and turns around and skedaddles over to Champ like his pants are on fire.

"Come on," Ginger loops her arm through yours and lends Brandy a smirk that you don't notice — you're too busy trying not to look after Jack. "Let's go dance, honey. The night is young and we are looking far too good not to show off."

Champ eyes Jack as he stops by his side. “Figured you’d have a gal in your arms by now.” He huffs as he reaches out to shake Jack’s hand. “Losing your touch?” Jack snorts. “When have I ever lost my touch?” He asks, pointedly refusing to look back over towards you. “Just surveying my prospects.”

"And how is Agent Rye this evening?" Champ doesn't even have to look to know that that's where Jack has just come from. He blew into the room so quickly that it's the only explanation for the fire in his heels.

“Don’t you start with me.” Jack groans, shaking Champ’s hand and huffing. “Far as I know, she’s dandy.”

"Why should I not start?" Champ knows damn well why not, but he enjoys riling up his friend. "Somebody beat me to the punch?"

“Every-goddamn-body here tonight is actin’ like they’ve never seen the woman in a dress.” He snorts, complaining about it even though he has already memorized the way the damned sequined dress clings to your curves and enhances them in ways that should be criminal. “It’s damned ridiculous and borderline workplace harassment.”

Smirking, Champ pours two glasses of his preferred Statesman 1972 Select, savoring the smoked cherry notes from that particular year. He hands one cut crystal glass over to Jack with his tongue set firmly in his cheek. "You know you'd be a hell of a lot less mad if you just asked the lady to dance your damn self."

The glare Jack cuts Champ is withering and he turns his head as he takes a sip, refusing to rebuff the remark. It seems like everyone is taking the piss with him tonight as Eggsy would say. (edited)

"She's allowed to have fun, ya know." Champ goes on, humming the thought as though the glare Jack just shot him wouldn't have struck a lesser man dead in his tracks. "Damn shame she hasn't set her cap on anyone. Big family dreams, that gal has. Always has. It'll be a damn shame when she finally decides to hang up her pistols and have a family, but I won't let her get farther than the training ring. Too good of an agent to just let her retire."

“Is there a point to your ramblings?” Jack grumbles. “Or are you just spouting shit tonight?”

"Do what I want in my own house." The older man chuckles heartily and claps Jack on one shoulder. "Got a couple of jobs to start the new year with. Come see me tomorrow and we'll figure out which one's yours."

He’s being dismissed and since Champ is also giving him hell, Jack quickly nods and walks off. Trying to walk around the ostentatious ballroom without looking at you. “Hello handsome.” A perfectly manicured hand drapes itself over his shoulder and the scent of gardenias and sandalwood fills his nostrils. “Tiffany.”

Like a bloodhound on a trail, you spot it from across the ballroom without even trying to. Twirling around with Ginger, your eyes catch sight of the gorgeous, skinny, leggy blonde who has let herself drape over Jack's side and you sigh. Deflate is probably the right word, but you remind yourself it was never going to happen anyway and just hold on to Ginger as the song comes to an end.

“What’s a tall, dark, handsome drink of water like you doin’ all by your lonesome?” She purrs, making him hide the wince he had at the put on accent of hers. She’s as southern as tofu and yet she tries to make it sound like she’s grown up around here. Still, she’s a distraction and the best part about it is that there’s no emotional strings. “Looks like I should be buyin’ you a drink, darlin’.”

"I wish you would," she puts on a too-high giggle and bats eyelashes heavy with mascara and augmented with false hairs. Laying it on thick, she pushes in even closer and lets her body fit against his with nothing left to the imagination.

Jack doesn’t feel anything but he paints a cocky smirk on his face as he turns to her. “Then let me go get something for you, what do you want, darlin’?”

“Champagne, of course,” she simpers, never once considering the fact that she’s at a party for a whiskey distillery. Hell, she hadn’t even dressed for the theme.

Tiffany hangs out at the bar Statesman regularly hangs out at. A groupie because she knows everyone there makes good money. He’d bet his bottom dollar she conned Scotch into bringing her.

“Some party.” Is her attempt at conversation, putting more effort into showing off her cleavage than completing sentences. “You distillery boys sure know how to treat your gals.”

“Of course we do.” Jack’s smile is wicked, but it’s a part of the persona he adopts when he is working a target, it’s not real. “Any gal of mine deserves to be treated right.”

“Is that an invitation?” She knows who Jack is. Knows the civilian job title he’s been at Statesman Distillery. Even if she knew what it was all a front for, she likely wouldn’t care. She might just try harder if she knew the real wealth being flung around between a lot of these people.

“Now sweetheart, I’m good for a night or two.” Jack drawls. “But I’ve got a lot of leavin’ left to do.” He hums, quoting the country song.

The pout on Tiffany’s face is both dramatic and pronounced, but seeing that he’s immovable in that point — and knowing his reputation — she makes a small sound of frustrated disgust before flouncing away. Apparently annoyed at having wasted her time on a line cowboy.

The huff that Jack lets out is one of pure relief. Happy that he won’t have to deal with her again for at least half the night. She might make her way back around depending on successful she is. It’s shameful to say, but most of the agents here have dallied with her, including Jack. However, he had only taken her home to satisfy a physical need. He slowly makes his way back to the bar to order another drink, not champagne.

His line of sight is unfortunate as he saunters back toward the open bar. Looking back out to the dance floor, he can see Tequila twirling you around and the two of you laughing as the younger man holds you close and mock-sings along with the band.

Jack’s frown is deep, furrowing his brow as he cuts his eyes away in a jealous huff.

It goes round and round like that for most of the night. One dance partner after the next sweeps you across the dance floor but never the partner you want. One beautiful woman after another sidles up to Jack and bats their eyelashes but none are the woman he actually wants at his side. It’s a three-ring-circus. A whirlwind. But you never seem to get close enough to each other to see that neither of you is actually having any fun.

It’s easy to have an arm around a woman, easy to smile and flirt. His eyes continuously find you on the dance floor. Ginger had been right apparently, you had a damn dance card that was slap full. He hisses under his breath, wondering how many of those men knew you bit your thumb when you were working out a problem or that your eyes changed to a lighter shade when you were feeling slightly bashful.

There isn’t a single night of your life where you’ve gotten this much attention from this many different men — or this many different people period — and while it’s fun in a whirlwind sort of way, you do find yourself clock-watching. Wondering why your fellow agents all seem to be paying you so many compliments tonight and why you sort of feel like Cinderella at the ball without a hint of the real Prince Charming, the closer it gets to midnight the more you’re thinking of just going home. The last thing you want is to glance across the ballroom at midnight and see Jack tangled up in a midnight kiss with some petite redhead or statuesque model with perfect curls. You’ll be happier skipping out early and being in your pjs with a book at midnight than you will be witnessing that.

It’s fucking infuriating to have so many people come between him and you. Every dang time he untangles himself to break in on your dance with some partner, Ginger, Tequila or Champ waylay him. He’s never had such a hard time getting to chat with you and it’s making him slowly unravel his temper. “Ah Jack, there you are.” He sighs and paints on a smile when Champ claps his back and shoves a drink in his hand. “Forgot to mention somethin’….” His eyes slide away from you laughing as you are spun around, bitter to be stonewalled again.

“Well if it ain’t the gol’dern Belle of the Ball.” The voice you hear behind you is the one person you were hoping to avoid tonight, and as you’ve just finished dancing with one of the guys from the technology department who you didn’t even think knew your name, there’s no escaping. Agent Vodka is one of those older men who doesn’t realize that James Bond is just a character and that no one drags that persona into their everyday life. He routinely ‘flirts’ with you like he’s bestowing you a huge goddamn favor for even looking in your direction, and you were genuinely hoping to avoid him tonight.

Vodka is handsome in a classical sense, some would say a silver fox, if he had a better attitude. As it stands, there’s a confused tilt to his Stetson adorned head and he rakes his eyes up and down your body in a very calculated gaze. “You musta cleaned up for hours. Getting ready for a good night.”

“Sure. I guess so.” You nod, tone polite but dismissive. Vodka has a tendency to interpret friendly as begging for hands to be put on you, and the last thing you want to do is encourage him. “Happy new year, Vodka.”

“Seems like Whiskey and I have been the only ones not with you tonight.” He intones, smirking slightly. “Guess you was savin’ the best for last, huh? Since Jack’s hangin’ all over the ladies, I’ll step in and claim this dance.” He doesn’t ask for permission, just stepping up to you and grabbing your waist.

“That’s really okay.” Reeling backward, Vodka is strong but your self-defense training is a hell of a lot better, and you twist in his grip to make sure he can’t get a solid hold on you no matter how hard he tries. “Appreciate the offer,” you huff, trying to push him away. “But I was just heading home.”

“Oh don’t be that way.” Vodka huffs and manages to pull you close. “Believe me, dancin’ ‘s just a prelude to what we can do later.”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want to dance with you.” You push back against him again, leveraging your elbow against his side to loosen his grip with a sharp shot to his liver. This has gone too far and is hovering on ruining the night — which has been fairly fun despite its lack of your favorite cowboy and coworker.

“Jack-“ Ginger doesn’t bother apologizing as she taps his shoulder and points out to the dance floor. “Why don’t you go save Rye?” She huffs.

At this point it’s obvious that it’s a struggle. People are giving you extra space on the dance floor as they realize what’s happening but for whatever godforsaken reason, no one has stepped in yet. Probably because they’re too shocked that Vodka has finally crossed the line into being physically inappropriate instead of just saying uncomfortable things.

“Sugar, I’m sorry I’m late for our dance.” Jack slaps his hand down on Vodka’s shoulder and digs his fingers into the fleshy muscle. Getting satisfaction from the immediate change in the man’s stance. “Don’t mind if I interrupt, do ya?” His tone is friendly, but there’s a warning woven in the words. Dark eyes turn towards you as you quickly step back from the other man’s grasp.

“Wouldn’t have thought you’d keep a dame waitin’.” Vodka mumbles, all sheepishness and apology now that he realizes he’s infringed on another man’s territory.

Jack doesn’t rip into the man like he wants to, everyone else is starting to relax and resume the party. “You probably need to lay off the liquor.” He tells the other agent, not really caring for the man either.

“You forget who we work for, Daniels?” Vodka huffs, giving Jack the stink eye. “Not like you go easy, either.”

“Last time I checked, I took no for an answer, Robbins.” Jack turns his back after letting Vodka go and sweeps you into his arms, effectively dismissing him.

The room damn near erupts into applause, chattering all around you erupting out of uncomfortable silence, but you don’t hear it. You don’t even see Tonic and Champ escorting Vodka out of the ballroom with the utmost immediacy so the dressing-down can be vocal and private. All you see is Jack, and all you hear is Jack. Even as quiet as he is, the huff he gives as he scoops you up and twirls you away speaks volumes. “Jack, you—you didn’t have to—” Of course, if he hadn’t, you’re not sure you could’ve gotten away so cleanly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t think a thing of it, sugar.” Although he has a few harsh words rolling around for everyone who didn’t step in. It’s like they were waiting for something. Alcohol’s done made their brains addled. “Although my own apologies for manhandling you to get you outta that sticky situation.” Even though he’s apologizing, he starts to lead you in a dance.

“I really don’t mind.” And that is the understatement of the goddamn year, as you instinctively melt against Jack the second he starts to move.

“Still…..” There’s finally a bit of happiness to the evening and he smirks down at you. “Now you can say your dance card has been filled.”

“Could’ve left Vodka off it completely,” you grumble lightly, but you still end up smiling. When Jack looks at you in almost any way you just light up from the inside. It’s instinctual.

“Don’t know what got into him.” Jack huffs, even though he’s saved you from encounters like that before.

“His namesake, most likely.” He had smelled like it, at least. A fact which added no charm whatsoever to your encounter. “Really, Jack. Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Jack nods. “Sugar, you know that I know you are a capable agent. You coulda mopped the floor with him, but I’ll always give you whatever help you need.”

“I prefer not to bring hand-to-hand combat to Champ’s front door if I can help it.” If you let yourself really chew on the fancy, you could imagine Jack as rescuing you like a knight in armor. Like you were his to protect. “Not sure how much he’d appreciate that, regardless of how capable I am.”

“I think you’d find Champ more forgivin’ than you think.” He snorts, reminding himself of his own major fuck up just a few years prior. Champ had forgiven him and allowed him to regain the trust and confidence that he had destroyed through his own bling grief and rage.

“Maybe.” Jack certainly knows your boss better than you do even after several years with the agency, so you’ll differ from him. “But I’m glad to not have to find out. And…” The rest of the thought gets swallowed, and you cut your eyes away from him in embarrassment. There are some things better left unsaid and normally you’re so good at keeping your mouth shut.

“And?” Jack frowns slightly, not liking that you are holding back with him. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

“It’s nothing,” you promise him, shaking your head and acting like it isn’t the biggest, most honest confession in the world from you that sets your cheeks on fire and makes you even more bashful around him. “I’m just…glad I got to dance with you. That’s all.”

“You didn’t think you were going to dance out the old year without ole Jack now, did ya?” He sounds pouty that you would even think that.

"Honestly?" Shrugging slightly even with one of his hands splayed across your back and the other holding yours tenderly against his chest, you wonder how ever you ever manage to keep a damn thing to yourself with him around when your mind just sort of seems to melt in his presence. "I was going to split and ring in the new year in my bed with the book I've been reading."

Jack frowns and shakes his head, not agreeing with your plans in the slightest. “Now that seems like a waste.” He draws. “Mighty fine night to spend readin’ a book. You should be doin’ other things.”

"Not a lot of other options to pick from," you mumble, trying to force your mind away from immediately conjuring the mental images and repeated daydreams of doing just about everything under the sun with — and to — him.

Jack wants to protest that, but the song starts to close out and you almost stop in your tracks. Obviously believing that he will end the dance now that Vodka is gone and the set is done. Instead of dropping your hands, he pulls you tighter against him. “Is that why you wore a dress like that, sugar? ‘Cause you didn’t have any options?”

"Ginger picked it out." Wrongly assuming it to be an indictment of the choice, you frown reflexively and wonder why he's still holding on to you. The trouble is over and the song is done. Shouldn't he be finding someone better to spend his time with? "I know it's...it's not right. Flapper dresses are designed for women who look the opposite of me. But she insisted on sticking to the theme."

“Opposite of you?” He makes a face of utter confusion. “What are you talkin’ ‘bout? Dress looks good, fits you.” Maybe you have a shit ton of pins in the dress? His sweet wife would always have to pin her dresses to get them to fit right. Nearly every night they went out, he was helping her pin it just so.

Skinny is what you meant, but instead of saying so you just chew your lip and shake your head. Voicing that out loud would really just cement the ruination of the night and you don't want to do that. "Never mind," you insist instead. "I'm glad you like it." Even if he's just saying it to be nice, which you're sure he is, it's still nice to hear.

There’s something bugging him about the way you continuously quit talking and get around what you mean. The next song starts to play and Jack moves to that slightly faster tempo. “No one’s breakin’ in yet, sugar. So I’m keepin’ you unless you need a break?”

"No." Not from him. You would never, ever ask for a break from him. "No, I'm good." In fact, you've been so distracted by the rescue that you haven't noticed midnight creeping ever-closer. "I don't want a break."

Jack smiles, not the cocky smirk he adopts or the charming playboy facade that he uses on women like Tiffany. This is a genuine smile, one that makes his dimple show with a flash of white teeth and the crow’s feet around his eyes appear. “Then let’s dance, sugar.”

Champ chuckles when he sidles up beside Ginger with a fresh glass of champagne for each of them and his wife on his other arm, all ready to lead the midnight countdown after this song is over. "Took all damn night," he laughs to his co-conspirator. "And ya had to pull out the big gun with Vodka. But look at 'em."

“Man huffed and puffed at being used.” Ginger rolls her eyes and curls her lip. “But I promised him the Antarctic assignment. It will seem like punishment to everyone else and apparently he’s romancing one of the scientists down there.” Personally, she doesn’t see why anyone would be romanced by Vodka, but to each their own.

"It's for a damn good cause." Champ stifles a guffaw and even his wife looks amused at the way everything went down. "Everybody deserves to be happy, don't they? Even Vodka." It earns another snort from the older man and he aims a smirk at Ginger. "So what's the plan from here, Ging?"

“If Jack will get off his ass, there should be a kiss at midnight.” Ginger grins. “And maybe, just maybe, the dumbass will realize that it’s okay to want her. She wants him too.”

"Of course she does." Everybody knows that. Everybody with eyes and sense in their head, anyway. "He's just been stuck in the whole of his own grief for far too damn long. It's about time he broke free. Which is exactly why I went along with this plan of yours."

“I’m glad you did. Jack’s felt so guilty about actually developing feelings for Rye that he’s convinced himself that it’s wrong to flirt with her.” She takes a sip of her champagne. “When he breaks, it’ll be entertaining.”

"Entertaining for all of us." Grinning, Champ holds his glass out to his partner in crime in salute. "I sure as hell hope it happens right here for all of us to see."

Unaware that he’s being plotted against, Jack continues to hold you in his arms, taking you around the dance floor and trying to keep from asking too many questions that would potentially ruin his easy relationship with you. “Have you had fun? Other than Vodka? Your feet have to be killin’ you, all the dances you’ve been movin’ to.”

“It’s alright, I’ll have a hot bath and soak them. Aside from the one little interruption, everything’s been so nice.” This is the best part, without a doubt. Attention from other people is a novelty, the compliments and laughter a kind change of pace. But any time spent with Jack will always out do any other experience.

“A nice hot soak and a drink is always good to unwind.” Jack hums. “If other activities aren’t available.” The comment is warm, almost suggestive as he twists you around and then pulls you close again, feeling your softness against him and enjoying it.

It’s the worst kind of gut punch, hearing a comment like that from Jack, and your eyes are downcast when you curl back into his arms. It’s too unkind to be deliberate, but at the same time it’s such a careless comment that you just want to scream. He would never be intentionally cruel to you but the flirtatious tone of the comment is too much. “Maybe I should’ve gone with Vodka, then.”

Jack stiffens, frowning immediately and his blood pressure rises in anger. “What the fuck?” He hisses, the moment making him grip you tighter, almost the point of hurting you. “Why- you?” He’s at a loss for words right now.

“Well it’s the only offer I’ve gotten in…a year? Maybe more?” You shrug dismissively but his grip on you doesn’t allow for it, making your tone turn even more bitter in the process. He doesn’t get to get mad about who offers when he has no interest in himself. “Definitely more than a year, now that I think about it.”

“That wasn’t a goddamn offer.” He snorts. “It was a cowboy playin’ grab ass when his partner wasn’t willing.” He reminds you, dark eyes flashing angrily. “Otherwise known as assault.”

“And yet it’s still the only time any man has looked at me twice in more than a calendar year,” you hit back, practically hissing under your breath as embarrassed tears sting at your eyes. “Nobody’s exactly lining up to spend time with the fat girl except tonight which is Ginger’s doing. I know it is.” (edited)

The two of you are hissing back and forth, so preoccupied with your emotions that neither one of you are aware of the fact that the countdown for midnight has begun. The crowd around you starts to chant down from ten but Jack's too busy growling at you in anger. "Why are you so fuckin' quick to insult every goddamn person who decided to dance with you?"

“Because I know I’m right.” The two of you have never once torn into each other like this and while it breaks you’re heart, you’re so angry that lashing out is happening by instinct. It hurts so much more to be doubted by him and you can’t even express why. It’s devastating. “Do you even know what assignments they give me, Jack?” You hiss back, not hearing the shouts around you. “The ones where they need someone to be invisible! If they need someone plain and ignorable, they come straight to me. Do you know how much that fucking hurts? Because I’m good at it and that’s even worse than them just assuming. I’m excellent at not being noticed. At not being desired. It’s my fucking superpower. So no, I don’t think for a second that any of these dances were genuine moments of interest or offers for literally anything else. Because why would they be?”

His heart breaks and he's simultaneously enraged that you view yourself that way. "Five! Four! Thr—" He reaches up and grabs the back of your neck to yank you forward so your nose is less than an inch from his own. "You want a goddamn offer?" He snarls, losing all sense of reason when it comes to you and ready to prove how wrong you are. "Here's your fuckin' offer." Without another word, he drags you forward to plaster his lips against yours in an angry kiss.

It should feel terrible. It should make you so angry you slap him. It should make you feel a hell of a lot of nasty things, but instead what you feel is the undeniable melting of your own self against him, finally getting the only thing you’ve wanted since the day this infuriating cowboy sauntered into your life. Jack is firm under your hands, burning hot and intoxicatingly inviting in the way he does not pull away. You must have gotten so mad you blacked out, because this is impossible.

When you don’t push him away, when you don’t slap him, Jack growls. Using the soft sigh that you give to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth with another groan as the cheers and sing of Auld Lang Syne happens all around the two of you.

Either you’ve burst a blood vessel from being so angry and ashamed or this is the best dream you’ve ever had. Jack wraps both of his arms tight around you and you cling to him, fists dig into the arm of his suit jacket and the hair on the nape of his neck as you silently beg this hallucination never to end. You can live and die in this moment and tell yourself that it was more than a dream. You can imagine this is exactly how fiercely Jack kisses when he really wants to. When he wants someone.

The kiss has turned from an angry mashing of his lips against yours to a passionate mingling of your breath and tongues. You whimper and his entire body tighten with need. Overriding the portion of his brain that is screaming that this is a bad idea, that he is bad for you and continuing to kiss you as everyone else has moved into dancing now.

Neither one of you has realized that his hat has been knocked off, or that he’s drawn you so close your back has bowed, or even that you’ve entirely given up on needing to breathe in order to never have to stop kissing him. Years of repressed desire and soul-crushingly unrequited love are just being poured into every second you spend drowning in this impossible fantasy.

“Well damn.” Champ chuckles from his position on the dance floor with his lovely wife. “Didn’t expect that long of a show. Boy don’t stop soon, he’s gonna devour her right there in the middle of the floor.”

“That’s what happens when you repress your feelings for six goddamn years,” Ginger snorts in amusement. “Should I go interrupt them?”

“No.” Champ decides with a shake of his silvery head. “Leave ‘em. Don’t want the boy to get spooked before he makes up his mind what’s gonna happen next.”

“And he will.” Ginger agrees with that completely. Jack spooks faster than a newborn foal.

“He would, where she’s concerned. Boy has his heart in it and he’s been fightin’ it.” Champ agrees as his wife chuckles. “He will figure it out.” She promises. “Rye won’t let him walk away from this with a smile and a handshake.”

“I think she’d rather die than let him go, at this rate.” The smile on Ginger’s face is soft. Glad that her friend is finally getting everything she — you — have ever wanted. It really is only oxygen that makes the two of you pull apart, panting for breath with fingers curled into each other’s flesh and clothes like you’re hanging on for dear life.

Jack’s eyes are dark and searching as he looks at you. Looking for the answer to a question and when he finds what he’s looking for, he grabs your hand and starts to drag you off the dance floor.

“Jack?” The realization that that really just happened ignites a small panic in your chest and a riot in your mind, and the fact that Jack hasn’t let go of you or run off in disgust is only confusing you more.

He doesn’t speak, he can’t speak right now. The people on the floor just seem to part, moving out of his way as he guides you off the floor. He does squeeze your hand though.

“Jack?” The longer he goes without saying anything the higher the panic rises, but you cling to his hand all the way to the front door of Champ’s house where the front room has been transformed into a coat closet.

Jack doesn’t answer and spins you around to press you up against the wall, kissing you again. “Get your fuckin’ coat.” He demands roughly.

It’s a much briefer kiss but it leaves you breathless all the same, and the determination in his eyes makes you shiver and rush to obey. If this is what you’re going to get with him — just a few demanding kisses before he decides it was a mistake and turns you away? Then you’ll take it.

His hat is missing, Jack realizes when he goes to readjust it and frowns. Patting his head and looking around to see if it fell off around here, but it’s nowhere in sight. It’s a small price to pay, but he runs his hand through his hair as you rush back to his side. “We’re leaving.”

He doesn’t seem angry, but for the life of you there is no version of tonight that goes any further. Not in your mind. A conversation about how you shouldn’t have kissed him — or at least kissed him back, since you have a dim memory of his hand pulling you to him right before your mind went blank — or at least about how it was a mistake is bound to follow.

The second your hand is in his again, Jack is dragging you through the doors and down the stairs of the house to his Bronco. He’s parked close, thank god and he can barely get the door open before he’s grabbing your waist and practically throwing you up into the seat.

It shouldn't be a thrill to be lifted up and tossed around as though you weigh next to nothing, but there is something in Jack's singular determination and focus that tells you not to question or fight it. If he wants to manhandle you a little before whatever uncomfortable confrontation is bound to happen? Well, it's not as though you haven't literally fantasized about that scenario. At least now you have a frame of reference.

He’s holding onto his control, barely. Racing around the front of the vehicle and jumping in beside you. He can’t even talk to you as he starts the engine. Thankful that his place isn’t too far away as he throws the Bronco into gear and slings gravel as he spins out.

The most surprising part might be that he reaches for your hand as he drives. His fingers curl through yours and hold onto you on top of the gear shift, not letting you do your usual thing of shifting away or curling in on yourself in uncertainty.

There’s only two miles left to go. He grunts as he slows down to make the turn and your hand moves the shifter with him, making sure that he doesn’t squeeze it too hard as he goes through the gears.

He's driving to his own house. You've done this route yourself more times than you can count for a thousand different reasons. The apartment that you rent with your ample Statesman salary is well on the other side of Louisville and Ginger lives closer to you than to Jack, so it's not like you have any doubt where he's headed. When he pulls the Bronco down his long and winding driveway toward the large farmhouse he's called home for a decade already, your hand tightens slightly in his, nervous and wondering what will come next.

When he cuts the engine, there’s a half a second before he opens the door. Almost speaking but he doesn’t. Instead, he’s climbing out to walk around the truck to open the door.

"I wish you would say something." Even if he's helping you out of the car and holding onto your hand, you can't figure out what's going on in his head. Not having any clue is making you a little panicky the longer it goes on.

Jack stops, two steps away from the path to the front door. “Do you want to come inside?” There’s a fear that you don’t want this. That you are not on the same page as he is.

He's not angry. Or upset anymore, that you can tell. But the determination in his gaze is still there for something that you can't quite put your finger on. "Yes," you decide, nodding as you step toward both him and the house. "I do." Whatever happens, you're hopeful it won't be bad.

You said yes. Your words spur him on again and he’s off like a shot, dragging you behind him. The biometric lock is a godsend. There’s no fumbling for a key at the door as he hustles you inside and slams it behind you both, pressing you against it as he attempts to devour your mouth once more.

This was not the reaction you expected. Not in any way. Not even when he had kissed you twice at Champ’s house before hauling you over to his place with the fires of hell scorching his toes. Anybody else might have read the signals, but not you. Not with the surprised squeal you let out or the soft moan that follows it — both completely outside of your control.

You’re alone now and this time, Jack doesn’t keep his hands on your waist. Both hands grab firm handfuls of your delightful round ass and squeezes as he presses into you. His painfully hard cock grinding into the soft pouches of your hips.

Because of the complete blanket of disbelief you're living under, it takes you longer than you're proud of or will ever admit to realize what is pressing against your hip. It's the first throbbing twitch from under his perfectly tailored suit that has your eyes flying open and both of your hands pressing firmly on his shoulders, breaking the kiss as you gasp in surprise.

“What- I thought-“ Jack’s frown is one of utter confusion as he drops his hands and steps back from you. Hating the feeling of rejection and suddenly wondering if he’s made a fucking fool of himself by getting twisted in knots by a woman who doesn’t actually want him. “‘m sorry.”

"Why?" The incredulous question is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and the confusion marring both of your faces makes you suck in a deep breath. "I—I just—I'm surprised," you admit, as damned foolish as that makes you sound. Fucking shocked is what you are, but you don't want to be labor the point and ruin whatever is happening.

He feels foolish and embarrassed, like he’s been caught with his hand in a candy jar. Reaching up and running his hand through his hair, he blows out a breath. “You said you wanted to come in.” He reasons. “I- what did you think would happen?”

"I—I don't know," you admit, feeling even more ridiculous than he does. Your back is still against his front door, crying out loud. "I ruled out you still being mad at me after you kissed me again but I didn't think..." Gesturing at him lamely, you blow out a breath and rub at the back of your neck. "I'm not saying I want to stop, I was just surprised." If this is the only chance you're going to get with him? You're going to take it and run with it as long as it lasts.

He frowns again, wondering how you could want him and yet be surprised when he wants to take you to bed. “So what do you want, sugar? Because I’m feeling like a penny at the bottom of a pan, rattled.”

The expression cracks the tension, at least for you, and an unexpectedly bright and beaming smile graces your lips as you reach for him boldly and find to your own delight and continued surprise that he doesn't draw away. "What I want is...a long shot." It's more than that, but you're downplaying your own fears to a rather extreme degree right now. Trying to be brave. "But...what are the odds you were thinkin' about taking me upstairs?"

“House odds.” Jack rasps out, knowing that the odds are always in the house’s favor when playing at a casino. “Pondered the idea of strippin’ you down right here and making you squeal against the door, but then tossin’ you over my shoulder and haulin’ you to my large, luxurious bed also has its merits.”

You genuinely have to shut your eyes to steady yourself, exhaling long and deep and praying you aren't actually moaning out loud like you are in your head. As it stands, both images he paints have your knees weak and your body shivering. "Eith—um—either one," you manage to stammer out, eyelashes parting so hesitantly that they flutter like wings. "Either one is good."

“Sexy as you look, sugar….” Now that he knows that you are on the same page as him, a little bit of the cocky swagger is back. “Thinkin’ it’d be a goddamn shame not to spread you out.” Despite your stature, Jack tucks his shoulder and scoops you up over his shoulder like you weigh nothing, bolting for the stairs.

"Holy hell, Jack!" A nervous shout and a squeak escape you when he picks you up, and you cling to his jacket as he carries you through the house you've visited innumerable times before.

Chuckling, Jack slaps your ass with his free hand as he ambles up the stairs easily. “Don’t be nervous, sugar, I won’t drop you.”

This time you definitely do moan out loud, too taken by surprise to stop the sound or swallow it before it can come out of your mouth and you know Jack heard.

He grins to himself, slapping your ass again and is rewarded with another moan. “Mmmmhm.” He chuckles. “Rye likes a little bit of light spanking. Noted.”

"Pretty sure I'll like anything you do," you admit ruefully, though you're quickly feeling the constraints of embarrassment fall away as he reaches his bedroom door. This is real. This is really happening.

"I'll keep that in mind when I hogtie you to the bed and lick whipped cream off your body." He teases, kicking open the slightly ajar door and striding into the room to toss you down on the bed like a character in a romance novel. Right now, he doesn't know if he's supposed to be the hero or the villain, feeling a bit like both as his rough handling of you as him immediately reaching for your ankles to pull off your shoes in his eagerness to see you naked in his bed.

“See?” You huff at him, heavy breathing coming from nothing but an undeniable surplus of desire. “That actually sounds sexy coming from you.” Everything does, but his quick fingers are divesting you of your shoes and that reminds you how your Spanx is part of this undressing process — which is the single least sexy thing in the world.

Jack rips off his tuxedo jacket and tosses it down on the floor. Climbing up onto the bed and over you to press against you fully, pinning you down to the bed with a groan. Quickly capturing your lips again in a frenzied kiss.

It makes no damn sense to you, but you’re not going to question it anymore. If Jack could have literally anyone in the world but for tonight he chooses you, then you’re just going to make sure he doesn’t regret it. That decision on your part sort of pulls you out of your nervous shock, and all at once your hands are pulling open his tie and fumbling with the buttons on his shirt with enthusiasm.

“There we go.” Jack groans when you stop acting shocked and start acting. Your hands on his body makes him shake and he can’t help but rock his hips forward. “Sugar.”

He could probably call you whatever he wanted and you would just go with it, but hearing him call you Sugar — that sickly sweet name he favors so much yet seems to bestow on you so rarely? It feels like you might melt so deeply into his plush mattress that you will never get up again.

Moving from your lips takes sheer willpower but he wants to explore more of you. One hand bracing on the bed and the other sliding up to squeeze your breast as he kisses down your chin and to the soft, vulnerable skin of your throat. “Driving me crazy, baby girl.” He coos, voice rough and lusty. “So goddamn pretty.”

No one who has ever met Jack would be surprised to learn how mouthy the cowboy is in bed. He’s mouthy in every other aspect of his life so frankly it would be pretty strange if this was the exception. Still, to hear those words said to you is beyond your wildest dreams. It’s surreal in the most sensational of ways. Even when you had dreamed of being with Jack, you had never dreamed of him praising you.

He groans when your fingernails bite into the skin on his chest as you hastily push the shirt opened. “Tigress, huh?” He growls, squeezing your tit again, a little harder this time and his hard cock pulses against your inner thigh. “Don’t worry, sugar. I’m just as goddamn eager as you. But ‘ole Jack likes a bit of wildness.” He bites down on your shoulder as he chuckles. “We’ll have ourselves one hell of a rodeo tonight.”

If you even knew where half this boldness came from, you might be a little embarrassed. But given the fact that you never thought this would happen, it mostly just feels like you're telling yourself not to waste the chance. Lightning never strikes the same place twice and this is your lightning strike, so you're going to lean into the whole thing if that's what he really wants. Your nails strike a path down his chest but get caught in his undershirt, a fact which makes you huff in frustration and search blindly for the hem to tear off that layer of clothing as well.

Jack groans and finally decides to give you what you want. Pulling back long enough to finish pulling his arms out of the shirt sleeves, he tears the undershirt off and throws it off the side of the bed to reveal his chest. Unable to resist pulling your dress down to pop your breast out and diving back down to wrap his mouth around a nipple.

"Oh fuck." It's a move you weren't expecting, but your back arches off the mattress instinctively to push your chest up and invite him to take and take and take — just as much as he wants to. If you were coherent enough to suggest it you would try to start wiggling out of your dress but as it is the only thing you can focus on is the heat of him surrounding you and the way every place he kisses you seems to catch on fire immediately at the press of his lips.

He suckles, bites and then licks the hard nub in his mouth like he’s gorging himself on you. Because he is. Hands searching for the zipper to your gorgeous dress. It’s beautiful, but it needs to be beautiful on his floor.

"If you want it off, you have to let me sit up," you manage to huff out, barely able to do more than pant at the way he's clearly trying to devour your tits first.

Groaning in protest, his lips are twisting in a pout as he pulls away. Panting breathlessly as he itches to launch himself at you again. “Hurry up, sugar.”

Your hands are shaking when you reach for the zipper, pulling it down and carefully undoing the clasp at the top before letting the heavily sequined cocktail dress slip off of your arms so you can maneuver it over your head. Half-naked in Jack's bed with panties so soaked you could probably wring them out is not how you expected to end this night, but here you are.

“Fuck.” Jack frowns at the tight shapewear he’s met with. “My present’s a little too wrapped for my liking, baby girl.” He hisses, curling his fingers under the layer to start stripping it off of you. “Want you naked.”

"It was the only way that dress was gonna look halfway decent," you mumble, shifting under him and definitely avoiding looking him in the face while he peels the Spanx off of you. It's a little bit too intimate even for the man you've wanted to be intimate with for years — to the point of making you feel completely naked even when you still have your bra and panties on.

He scoffs, nearly ready to whip his knife out and start slicing the material. “Bullshit.” He huffs, happy there’s just the bra and he uses two fingers to flick the four hooks open. “You don’t need nothin’.” Instead of explaining, he’s diving back into your tits while one hand dips into your panties.

“Fuck, Jack!” Instead of a tight reaction of shock, this time he’s rewarded with a moan and your legs falling open for him as the fingers of one hand dig through his thick hair to scratch along the base of his scalp. If he wants you to be bold, you’ll be bold. You’ll be whatever Jack wants as long as you just get to be in his bed for one night.

Jack moans against your tits, incredibly turned on by the pure moxy he’s always loved in you. Despite your utterly untrue view on yourself, you are sassy, sweet and sexy. That’s why he’s unable to resist now that he’s tasted you. Once he’s teased one breast enough, he switches to the other. “Gonna eat you up, sugar. Devour you whole.”

"All yours." It's sort of unintentional, the vow-like nature of the thing, but you're just being honest. You've really been Jack's since the day you met him. Even if it's taken so many damn years to get the two of you into this situation together, it's still the truth. "Whatever you want, handsome."

He groans, fingers sliding through the sweet slick that is covering your folds. “Want you.” He mumbles as he starts to slide his finger deeper, pressing against your entrance.

It's not even in your mind to ask why when he's splitting you open on two thick fingers like that, and you swear if that's how this night is starting you might actually ascend directly to some higher plain if you get to actual sex. "Ha—fuck— you have me."

“Mmmmmm.” He licks your nipple “Not yet.” He pouts, pulling his fingers back out of you to plunge them in again. “But I will, sugar. Cum for me and then I’ll have you like I’ve been dreamin’.”

The curse you groan out is nearly incoherent, more of an agreement than anything else but you'll be damned if you let this moment be anything less than memorable for both of you. Jack hovers over you and you wind your arms around him to encourage him to continue sucking on your tits while his fingers piston in and out of your pussy with determination. You know it won't take too much longer before your legs start to shake, and as if Jack knows it just as intuitively, he curls his fingers inside you and you gasp out a moan of his name.

His teeth nip at your sensitive flesh as he hisses. Feeling how tight your pussy squeezes his fingers and imagines his cock inside you. Tight and fucking scorching hot, just like he had imagined with his hand wrapped around his cock in the shower. “That’s it, pretty girl.” He coos before he sucks on your nipple again. Moaning when you arch up, writhing under him and making the prettiest, most desperate sounds he’s heard in a long time.

No one who has ever been in this bed has ever left it with any remaining doubts about Jack’s skills as a lover, and while you knew that before? Now you understand it oh-so-very deeply. His fingers pump into you mercilessly, curling at just the right angle to make you cry out in pleasure in every pass, and yet somehow he’s managed to keep the angle of that curl perfect while still holding them apart — stretching your eager pussy open and making sure you’re ready to take every inch of him. All of those intricacies combine with the dedication attention he is lavishing on your tits, and when the tense coil of restraint in your belly snaps it explodes into a thousand white-hot stars behind your eyes as you cum for him.

You’re gorgeous when you fall apart, just like he knew you would be. Keeping his fingers moving, he watches, enthralled with you as you cry out his name in a pitch that has his cock throbbing. The hot gush of your pleasure makes his fingers squelch inside you and he groans out your name while he starts to slow down the rhythm of his hand, letting you float down from your orgasm, drawing it out for you.

“Holy hell…” When your eyes open again you’re completely boneless beneath him, giggling softly at the light-as-air feeling in your body that never ever feels lighter than anything.

Dragging his wet fingers out of your cunt is his own personal kind of hell, but the urge to taste you is too great. Watching you with dark eyes as he slips his two fingers into his mouth with a lusty groan.

“Take your pants off.” The way you groan it is nearly an order but you definitely meant it to be begging, though at this point you don’t care. Especially when he arches an eyebrow at you and smirks. “Take your fucking pants off, Jack.”

Chuckling, he shuffles off the bed to oblige you. “Never let it be said I don’t follow orders, sugar.” He winks as he kicks off the tuxedo pants and hooks his fingers into his boxer briefs. “These too?”

“The fact that you even wear underwear is a shock,” you tease, motioning for him to continue stripping and trying — but probably not succeeding — to not stare.

He smirks. “Had to contain the beast for once.” He winks as he drags the tight material down. “Don’t wear ‘em normally.”

The Beast is probably as good a name as any, and you have to swallow a groan when he frees his throbbing cock — already damp with precum. It’s a wonder he can contain it, and you’re caught in between wanting to bend forward and taste him or just lying back for him to have his way with you. Curiosity and a curtain of lust win out on the short struggle, and you lean forward to take the purple head of his cock in your mouth just after he climbs back onto the bed.

“Fuck!” Jack moans out loudly and pushes your head away gently after a moment. “Baby, baby…” he pants. “You keep that up and this rodeo will be over before it starts.”

“Sorry…” Embarrassment burns your cheeks, and you shift back to get under his blankets. “I just had to know…”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Jack huffs. Kneeling on the bed and pulling the covers away as you hide your body away from his eyes. “Just don’t want to embarrass myself by blowing my load because of your pretty mouth before I can hear you scream my name.”

“I already have,” you remind him, a softness in your tone belied by the heat in both of your eyes. “Guess I might have to be a little louder this time.”

“Only if it’s right in my ear.” Jack wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it as he reaches for your thigh. “Buried deep inside that little cunt and feeling like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

It goes without saying that you’re both clean. All Statesman agents are required to have clean bills of health in order to be on the roster for missions and you’re both active agents. “I—have an IUD.” Is what you tell him instead, shivering a little at the reality of what is about to happen.

Eyes lighting up in delight, Jack’s lips curl up. “Oh sugar, it’s not my birthday yet, why are you showerin’ me with presents?” He coos, sliding his hand up and down your ample thigh. “Pretty as a damn picture.”

The real answer is that you’re desperate to feel him, but you just smirk instead, not wanting to get your heart more involved than it already is. “Because I don’t have a condom and I’ll be damned if we stop now because of it.”

“If you want me to get one…” Jack motions back to his pants. “I have one in my wallet.”

“I don’t want the barrier,” you admit, biting your lip at the extremely vulnerable nature of that confession. “If it’s okay with you.”

His smirk turns into a wicked grin. “You read my mind, sugar. I want to feel all of you.”

You could make a joke about how much of you there is to feel, but just this once you stifle the urge. Opting instead to reach out and gently cup Jack's cheeks in both of your hands before pressing a soft, earnest kiss to his lips. "Then what are you waiting for, Cowboy?”

As you lean back, Jack follows you. Climbing up your body and groaning as he settles between your thighs. “You want to cum again, pretty girl?”

"Not without you this time." The reality of Jack is better than anything you thought so far. Since this miracle is surely once in a lifetime, you want it to be as amazing as possible.

Jack groans your name, pressing his lips to yours in another hot, wet kiss. Passionate and consuming as he pushes an arm underneath you. “I’m right here with you.”

As impossible as it seems, he really is. He is right there with you, taking you in his arms and making you feel delicate and desirable for the first real time in your entire adult life.

He doesn’t rush, although he wants to. Every kiss is slow and thorough. Reaching down between you to take hold of himself to notch at your entrance. “Hold on, sugar. See if we can ride for longer than eight seconds.”

“I’m not gonna buck you, Jack.” You can promise him that, because you know damn well you’re going to hold onto this moment for dear life and not question the gift that it is. This one little shining moment is just for the two of you and you’re never going to forget a single second of it.

His eyes are watching, burning into yours as he starts to slowly rock his hips forward. Breaking you open with the first inch of his cock and swooping in to kiss you again when you gasp.

The world slows down, motions stretching into time and blending together in ways that you can’t quite wrap your head around so all you know in this moment is Jack. Every time he thrusts forward again your moans get that much deeper, until on the final experimental rock of his hips, he is seated fully inside you and you feel so spellbound and grateful for the moment that you’re all but sure you could cry. Instead you pour yourself into kissing him, rocking your own hips slightly to take him more comfortably and adjust to the weighty feeling of having him inside you.

“Fuck, baby girl.” Jack inhales sharply, stealing your breath as he tries to rein himself in, throbbing violently inside you. If it weren’t for the fact that he had promised you a rodeo, he would be cumming, overwhelmed by how hot and tight you are. You’re perfect, just like he always imagined. “You be a good girl and take my cock, m’kay?”

Good girl is another one of those sticking points for you just like getting your ass slapped, and if Jack had no idea before, he certainly does now, from the way your cunt just spasmed around his length and you moaned like you were coming all over again.

“Ohhhhhh.” Jack’s eyes nearly cross and he gives a particularly sharp thrust when you clamp down around him. “You like that.” He pants out. “You’re my good girl?”

“S’not fair,” you huff, throwing him a playful pout that gets cut by another shaky moan. “You’re finding all the buttons I like pushed way too easily.”

“You haven’t - fuck - figured out my buttons yet, sugar?” Jack ducks his head down and slides the arm not underneath you down your hip and thigh to pull it up higher. Sinking deeper into you with a moan of your name.

“Liking to have your cock sucked doesn’t—fuck!— count,” you tell him, back arching as he hits a new angle inside you.

He chuckles and licks at your pulse before he nips at your skin with his teeth. Fingers digging into your pillowy flesh and groans when you clench around him again.

Finding a rhythm is as easy as breathing. Being with him is so much more natural and intuitive than you dreamt it would be. Your natural tendency to be a little rougher is equaled by his enthusiasm for making the bedroom a loud and raucous experience. There’s no hiding from each other or demurring, not once you get going. It’s like something inside you has finally been unlocked after a lifetime of waiting — waiting for Jack to come along with the key that would open you up.

If it surprises Jack that you are wild in bed, it’s probably the best goddamn surprise he’s ever gotten. His back burns from the raking of your nails when he hits deep. He fucking loves it. Your wildness makes him go absolutely feral over you.

It’s the opposite of who you are in everyday life. A version of you just for him. A version of you that leaves your worries outside the circle of your bodies and embraces sex as something carefree. Which, if you’re honest, isn’t really how you’ve felt about sex with anyone besides Jack. (edited)

His lips and teeth map every inch that he can reach as he pumps in and out of you frantically. Trying to keep the pace hard and fast because every time your cunt clenches, his hips stutter from how fucking tight you are. “Fuck, my good girl.” He growls. “So fucking tight.”

“So fucking big,” you give back, starting to pant heavier and more unevenly. There’s a whine forming in the back of your throat that you can’t hold back and you bite down on the juncture of Jack’s shoulder as your legs threaten to shake all over again. You’re so close to cumming but you don’t want this to end.

Jack changes the tempo, slowing down and grinding his pelvis against your clit. “You gonna cum for me, baby girl?” He rasps out. “Cum on Jack’s big ‘ole cock and soak me?”

"So—oh, fuck—close, baby." The way you feel right now, you might actually fall apart at the seams when you cum again, but it will be worth it. It will be worth just knowing first hand how gorgeous Jack looks when he follows you over the edge. "Don't stop. Don't fucking stop, Jack."

“Never.” Jack growls, smashing his teeth together and hissing at the way you claw and writhe under him. It’s like taming a feral cat in a pillowcase and he loves it. Your thighs are crushing his hips and all he can do is imagine them around his head. “Cum for me.”

A half dozen thrusts later, your cunt is clenching down on his cock and pulsing with a fierce orgasm that has your thighs tensing at his waist and your back bowing off the bed. Everything seems to be happening at the top of however it possibly could, and that includes the way you cry his name into the night before collapsing back into his sheets with your arms and legs still around him, willing him to follow you to bliss.

Jack moans your name, pants it again against your lips. His brow knitted in concentration as he tries to last. His body tightening and tensing as his pleasure builds to that almost painful precipice. His heart pounding, but not because of the physical exertion, but because of the almost loving look on your eyes. “Love you.” He moans, right as his lips crash against yours and he breathes it into your mouth again. “Love you.”

You freeze under him, but Jack is too caught in his bliss to tell. Like a bucket of water has been splashed over the bubble of this night and popped that shell keeping you separate from the world. Did he just...? There's no way. There's just absolutely no way at all. You must have imagined it. Wished for it so desperately that you hallucinated the words. Because otherwise you're not quite sure what you'll do — because Jack has never lied to you. But he's also never given you any reason to think your feelings might be requited.

Caught up in his orgasm, Jack rides wave after wave of complete bliss as he empties himself into you, metaphorically and physically. Giving you every bit of himself as he finally acknowledges the truth of why he has always kept you at arms length. His love for you terrifying him, but right now, he’s flying. Collapsing into your arms and panting out your name as he catches his breath.

There's nothing you can do with this shock except bury it, holding him and gently stroking his hair while he catches his breath with his head on your chest. You imagined it, you remind yourself silently, blinking back tears at how much you wish it was true.

The whiskey, the emotions and the exertion have Jack cuddly and sleepy as he comes down from his orgasm. “Fuck, baby girl.” He hums, kissing your neck as he slowly pulls out of you and shifts to your side to roll you over with him. “Wore me out.” He chuckles. “But gave a hell of a ride.”

He tucks you into his arms to be his little spoon, not letting you get away for even a second. Any other time? This would have been thrilling. "Get some sleep, baby." Returning the pet name seems innocent enough, and you reach back to run your fingers through his hair gently. "You earned it."

His eyes are closed when he shoots you a sleepy grin. “Talk when we wake up, sugar.” He promises, fingers stroking your skin softly.

That promise might be why you sleep so fitfully in the night to follow. Why you're so wound up that when your Statesman issued phone chirps from your purse on his floor around 6:30 in the morning, your eyes open immediately. Jack has turned over in the night, sleeping on his back now with one arm still around you but not so tightly that you can't extract yourself to answer the message. That phone is used only for missions and confidential communication, meaning you absolutely cannot ignore it. Incoming Message: Agent Rye report immediately for mission briefing. CODE BLACK. Code Black. You curse under your breath, careful not to wake Jack, and rub one hand down your face in dismay. That level of secrecy in a mission assignment means you can't even wake him up to say goodbye. You're supposed to speak to no one, just proceed immediately to the nearest Statesman branch for your mission briefing. With a sigh and another, more colorful curse, you shake your head and glance back at the bed where Jack is sleeping soundly. There's nothing to do but get dressed and Walk of Shame your ass into the office. You just wish you could wake him up to say goodbye.

It’s been years since Jack has slept so well. Deep and dreamless, none of the nightmares that often plague his rest. The soft scent of you surrounding him and soothing him like nothing he’s had in a long time. When his eyes open, he’s feeling like he’s had the best sleep of his life. Frowning when he doesn’t feel you next to him. Calling out your name softly in case you were in the bathroom. “Rye? Sugar?”

There's no trace of you anywhere. He may as well have come home alone last night, except for the scent of you in the air and the scratches on his back. It's almost an insult when he sees a fallen sequin on the rug where your dress had been tossed.

“Fuck.” Jack’s slipped out of plenty of beds, ducked out and kept walking. The walk of shame was never shameful when there was a little bit of pep to his step, but right now, he’s pissed. Pissed you didn’t have the fucking balls to wake him before you slipped off like a thief in the night. Snatching up his pants, he digs into the pocket for his phone, dialing your number and ready to have it out with you.

"Hi! Sorry I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message and I'll call you back as soon as I'm able!" Your voicemail message is insultingly chipper when it picks up right away, almost taunting him. Like you aren't willing to talk, when nothing could be farther from the truth.

“Fuck!” Jack shouts, throwing the phone and scowling angrily. Pissed that you aren’t here, that you apparently don’t want to talk to him. “Fine, you regret it? Fuck you too.” He growls and stomps into the bathroom to shower. If you wanted nothing to do with him after he had let down his walls last night, he wants nothing to do with you either.

******

"What's got you all chewed up and spat out today?" Tequila raises an eyebrow at Jack when he comes huffing into the office, a little late and a lot pissed off. He had expected Jack to be in a stellar mood.

“Not a goddamn thing.” Even though his feathers are ruffled, Jack practically refuses to even think about you. To the point where he had thrown the sheets and the costly Tom Ford tuxedo away. “Whadda we got?” Desperate to concentrate on a mission, he jumps straight into business.

"Wingman prep." Tequila tells him, tapping the folder on his own desktop. "Somebody got tapped this morning and Champ wants us to comb some old mission files to prep for an extraction. Plan B sorta shit." And since all of the mission-ready agents on the Statesman payroll are top notch with years of experience under their belts, anyone potentially needing an extraction from a mission is a big fucking deal.

“Who got tapped?” Jack asks, grabbing a file and flipping it open with a frown on his face. “Scotch?”

"I thought you'd know already." Tequila's eyes snap back up to Jack in concern. "It was Rye."

Jack freezes and slowly lifts his eyes from the file to find Tequila frowning at him, confused by how he doesn’t know. “Why would I know that?” Jack asks after a moment. It explains why your phone was off, but you had still slipped out without saying a fucking word.

"Because...you went home with her last night?" Everybody knows that you and Jack left the party. Absolutely everyone. There was a whole extra celebration after you left. "Figured you woulda known by her getting up this morning and all."

There’s a split second where Jack wants to snap that you had left him to wake up alone, but he doesn’t. What comes out of his mouth instead, is to deny the whole thing. “Took her home.” Jack shrugs, lying easily as if he couldn’t care less. “She wanted to soak in a bath and read some book.”

The frown on Tequila's face deepens measurably, pure confusion marring his usually chipper face. "Bullshit," he huffs, leaning back in his desk chair. "I saw you kiss her. No way."

“Believe what you want.” Jack snaps flatly. “Where are we in planning the back up plans?” The hurt is soothed slightly by you being called away, but it doesn’t make it nonexistent. You hadn’t even left a goddamn message for him. He could have seen not waking him if you had left some sign that you didn’t regret the night even happened.

"Early stages." Knowing better than to poke the dragon when he's mad about something, Tequila defers to work like Jack clearly wants. "Tell me what you think, but I think me on the ground and you in the Silver Pony is the best bet." Whatever happened between you and Jack, the man is clearly hurt, and Tequila makes a note to go and talk to Ginger when he gets his next chance. If you had said anything to anyone, it would be to her.

“Whatever.” Jack practically rolls his eyes and shrugs. Usually he loves the opportunity to fly and show off in the Silver Pony, but he’s so worked up over you that he doesn’t even bat an eyelash. “Guess that’s the plan. If needed.”

“If needed.” All Tequila does is nod, but damn he really needs to talk to Ginger.

******

Jack holes up in his office, barely answering the phone and not leaving it all day, not even for lunch. Catching up on paperwork that is normally never done as he works through not being at home. Not remembering how you tasted and sounded last night. He’s even refused to pull up your camera footage, not wanting to see what you are doing. He’s miserable and is determined to stay that way.

“Thought I’d find you in here.” Champ’s gruff voice cuts through the silence long after everyone else has gone home for the night. He knew exactly where Jack would be. Especially after Tequila said the senior agent was out of sorts. “Come up to my office, Jack. We’re gonna have a drink.” It’s not a suggestion or a request. This is a direct order from this commander, and Champ turns around and heads back down the hall knowing Jack will follow.

Jack sighs and sets his pen down, ripping the reading glasses off his face and tossing them down on the folder. He had stayed cooped up in his office so he didn’t take his bad mood out on anyone so he doesn’t see why he needs to be called out onto the carpet. Still, he pushes back from his desk and follows the older man to the conference room Champ preferred over his official office. The bar cart in here was better stocked.

“Pick your poison.” Champ tells him, motioning for Jack to sit down at the conference table as he strolls over to the cart to grab a bottle and two glasses.

“Whatever your havin’.” Jack wonders what this is about, but he doesn’t ask. Just waits patiently for his boss to get to the reason in his own sweet time.

Champ grunts slightly, grabbing a bottle of ‘74 Reserve, and brings it to the table. He pours two fingers in each glass and slides one over to set in front of Jack before sitting down beside him and taking a sip from his own glass. “You’ve been hidin’ today,” he assesses after a moment of silence. “But I hear you damn near took Tequila’s head off this morning when you got in.”

“Can’t have a bad day?” Jack asks, picking up the whiskey and staring at it before taking a sip. “Woke up wrong, that’s all. I’ll apologize to the crybaby later.”

“He’s not a damn crybaby,” Champ huffs, covering his own amusement with a scowl. “I walked by your damn office, fool. And when he did come talk to me about it, it was because he was worried about you.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jack scowls and shakes his head. “I had a bad morning. I’m fine. Not gonna go off and try to kill all the drug users again.”

“Not saying you would.” Holding up his hands in a show of innocence, Champ leans back all the way and stares down his nose at Jack for a second longer before he shakes his head and shrugs. “But between you and me just these walls? Just thought you might wanna know that Rye got sent off Code Black, is all.” He isn’t supposed to say. Black is black. It’s too priority and top security. But you’d been so torn up this morning and Jack’s been so out of sorts in his own way that Champ has rightfully assumed that something fairly big must’ve happened after you left the party.

His jaw nearly drops. Champ never gives information away like that. He frowns, looking back down at his glass again and feeling relieved. If you had gotten a Code Black, you couldn’t wake him up. It would have been against protocol. He swallows and finally nods. “Good to know.”

“Just don’t want you stewing over it.” The older man says, watching carefully as he sips from his glass again. “You wanna be upset with anyone, it’s me. Not her.”

“Right.” Jack drains the rest of the whiskey and the crystal hits the table slightly harder than normal. “Anything else?”

“Nah. That’s it.” There’s nothing more that Champ can really say, and now Jack needs to process. That’s just how these things work. “See ya in the morning, Daniels.”

Jack stands. “‘Night, Champ.” He walks out of the room and back down the hall towards his office, looking down at his feet as he goes.

******

It’s two weeks before Tequila and Jack are given a stand-down order and told their rescue mission won’t be necessary. Mission success, they’re told with authority, even though it took longer than expected. They don’t get more than that, though, and Jack is walking past Ginger’s lab on his way out of the office late that night when he hears your voice again for the first time in weeks. It’s tired, and quiet, but unmistakable. “Can we just get this over with, Ging?” You ask your friend quietly, knowing that decontamination and a full physical are extremely necessary considering where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing. But you want to get the hell out of here and finally go talk to Jack.

He would never admit it, but he’s been living at Statesman. Barely going home to change and often refreshing the outfits that he keeps in his office for unexpected late nights. On call the entire time in case you needed him. Now you are here and Jack feels like running away. So much self doubt had built up over two weeks, he’s driven himself crazy over every little thing. Obsessing over the details of New Years.

“Once you have a clean bill of health, you go storm the ranch or whatever it is you’re going to do.” Ginger teases, full of warmth. “But I would try his office first.”

Jack frowns slightly and wonders what the hell Ginger is talking about, storming the ranch. He almost pushes the door open, but he doesn’t. Just wants to see what you will say if you know that he’s not listening.

“It’s been two weeks, Ging.” The pops and hums and beeps of her equipment punctuate your voice from inside the lab. “Every single second I haven’t been thinking about this mission I’ve been reliving that night. And I could kill Champ for sending me away Code fucking Black before I could even tell Jack how I feel about him.”

“I know it was bad timing.” He hears Ginger sigh. “But hopefully it gave you some time to think about what you’re going to say?”

Jack’s stomach twists and he feels nauseous. Wondering if you’ve decided that it was a mistake. He swallows harshly and whirls around, not wanting to hear how you plan on letting him down or friend zoning him.

“I’m going to tell him the truth,” he misses hearing you say. “That I’ve been in love with him for six years, and that I’m done being a coward about it.” This mission so easily could have killed you every single day that it became something of an eye opener. Getting back to Jack had become the most dominant and driving force in your mind at times.

Walking down to his office has Jack twisted in knots. He’s never been a coward before but he damn sure feels like running. Playing back that night in his head over and over had made him realize what he had said. More importantly, what you hadn’t said back. Walking over to his bar cart, he pours himself a heavy double and bolts it down. He’ll get wasted after you crush his hopes but that was needed so he doesn’t beg like a pathetic wretch. He needs to keep his pride somehow.

It’s twenty more minutes before he hears footsteps in the hall and hears your tentative voice calling his name. “Jack?” There’s nerves in it, anxiety hovering around you despite your triumphant mission. But you appear in his doorway looking worried and chewing your lip. “Hey…you’re still here.”

“Work’s never done.” Jack huffs, plastering on a friendly but not too friendly expression. “Haven’t seen you around in a few weeks. Mission go alright?” It’s painful to see you in that doorway, looking tired and beautiful. Reminding him of how you looked before he had fallen asleep and lost you.

“I’m home and in one piece.” It’s what you always say, but at least it’s true. He doesn’t exactly look happy to see you, though, and that makes you falter a little. Not enough to shake your resolve, but your optimism that he’ll respond with joy cracks right away. “Do you…can we talk a little?”

“Sure.” He takes off his reading glasses and stands. Moving over to the alcohol again. “Want a drink?” He asks, not looking over his shoulder at you. He sees the worry on your face and knows you are concerned about your working relationship. What he will do will be accept your wants, wish you well and promise that he will not let what happened affect your professional relationship. Then he will demand a transfer to the New York office, permanently. You nod and he pours out two drinks. “What’s on your mind, Rye?”

“Well…you are.” It seems like such an obvious answer that it almost feels silly saying it, but he won’t even look you in the eye so staring at the beginning seems like a good idea.

“Oh?” Turning around is hard, but he manages to look curious instead of sick to his stomach. “Now why would I be on your mind, sugar?” The endearment slips out and he nearly bites his tongue as he carries them over to the small sofa area.

The message is loud and clear: it really didn’t mean anything to him. Regardless, though, you have to power through. If he really didn’t mean what he said and has no interest in being with you, you’ll request a permanent transfer. Chicago, Dallas, Los Angeles — anywhere but here or New York. Swallowing a sigh, you accept the glass from him but just hold it in your hands while you gather your thoughts. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk before I had to leave,” you start, trying not to let the warmth and proximity of him get under your skin so easily. But you can’t really help it. “I did the best I could for a message to let you know what had happened, but it wasn’t much. And I’m sorry for that, too.”

His facade cracks, the scowl as quick to vanish as it appears and he scoffs. “Message received, Rye. A lone sequin on the floor. Practically like it was a dream, except for that.” He tosses back the whiskey. “Can you just get to the part where you tell me it was a mistake, you don’t want to ruin our friendship or work relationship? Or whatever bullshit excuse you’ve settled on to tell me you regret it?” His eyes are dark and pained when they finally land on you, barely resisting the urge to flee.

“On the floor?” Your brow furrowed instantly, a frown painting itself on your lips, and you set the glass in your hands aside to shift closer to him on the little couch. “Jack, I left a sequin on your nightstand.” The choice was even more horrible than you had worried it would be, apparently, because he looks so hurt he could actually cry. A fact which makes you instantly want to cry as well. “A black sequin was the best I could do for a signal. It—it must have…blown off. Stupid fucking flapper dress with all that fringe. It must have gone flying when I left the room.” There was no other breeze, no window open or fan blowing. Only you could have sabotaged yourself like that.

He doesn’t believe you and shakes his head. “Why would you leave a black-“ he trails off when it hits him. Black sequin - Code Black. Trying to tell him that you had wanted to leave a message but couldn’t. Champ had broken protocol by telling him about the Code Black and apparently you had tried to signal the same thing. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You shake your head in resignation, blowing out a shuddering breath. “I didn’t want to leave. Especially not after…” Another shaky breath leaves the rest of you shaking in turn, and you shove your hands under your legs on the couch. This is the most terrifying thing you’ve ever asked a person in your entire life. “Did you…mean it? What you said?”

Jack bites his lip, wanting to ask you what you’re talking about but he can’t do that. You look distraught that he had thought you had just disappeared. “Yeah.” Jack admits quietly. “Look, I know that it’s not something you were expectin’ ta hear, and you don’t feel the same.” He rolls on with the emotions that he needs to get out. “I won’t be mad, or take it out on you. But that night….fuck.” He blows out a breath. “I got to touch you. Just like I fuckin’ dreamed of. And I couldn’t just let you think it was a heat of the moment thing for me.”

“Why do you think I don’t feel the same?” With your heart beating wildly and your shakiness only increasing, there’s a sort of explosive quality in your mind and body that you can’t quite figure out how to control. Like all you want to do is launch yourself at him for a kiss but you know you need to talk first. To get it all out in the open. To be honest with each other. “I—I honestly had no idea you thought of me as anything but a friend. I was…well…shocked is a bit of an understatement.”

Jack snorts. “I know my reputation. Hell, I crafted it. But I couldn’t flirt with you. It’s too- shit- you had me from the first time we met. I was fucking hooked and it wouldn’t have been right. You were a junior agent and -“ he shakes his head. “I was running from the kind of commitment you were made for.”

“Your reputation was built by a man who had loved his wife so deeply that he couldn’t bear the thought of loving and losing again,” you remind him quietly. You sure you hadn’t known that right away, but when you had learned about his wife and son, you understood implicitly. “But it…it never stopped me from falling in love with you. Even when I thought I’d never be more to you than an acquaintance. I considered myself damn lucky to eventually become your friend. I just thought…I thought the fact that you never, ever flirted with me…meant that it was unrequited. So I made myself okay with it. Until two weeks ago.”

“I respect you, Rye.” Jack murmurs quietly. “I didn’t want to make it seem like you were everyone else, because you weren’t.” It’s backwards and twisted, but no one ever said that he had defeated all his demons. “When I broke- I gave you everything.”

“More than you know.” A soft huff of a laugh escapes you and you shake your head again, willing your nerves to calm down even a little. “Just…please understand, Jack. That I’ve been in love with you since the second I met you. And the only reason I didn’t say it back the night we slept together is because I was so shocked to hear it from you in the first place. I thought I’d hallucinated what I wanted to hear, and then before I knew it we were asleep…and then I woke up to a Code Black.”

“I was upset.” Jack admits quietly. “Really upset.” He flushes slightly. “May have been thinkin’ some not-so-polite things until Tequila told me it was you who was slated for the mission.” He won’t tell you that Champ had broken the rules. “Convinced myself that you had run off to go save the world so you wouldn’t have to tell me that you’d had too much alcohol and that’s why you let me take you home.”

“Not at all.” Taking a chance, you reach for his hand and practically sigh in relief when he slots his fingers through yours. “I pretty much thought I’d died and gone to heaven, if I’m honest. I just kept thinking…if this only happens once, I never want to forget a single thing.” You squeeze his hand gently, wishing you could have said all this two weeks ago. “I’m sorry my message didn’t work. That’s…you have every right to think nasty things about me. I’m so sorry.”

“No I don’t.” Jack protests. “Not if you meant to be here. Not if you wanted to be here the next morning. Then it’s just a bad misunderstanding and I’m sorry.”

“Then I guess we’re both sorry.” He’ll never know that you cried all the way to the office that morning at having to leave him, you decide right now. It would only make him feel even more guilty and he doesn’t deserve that. “But I’m not sorry about what happened between us.”

“You aren’t?” He tightens his grip on your hand, relaxing slowly as you talk and he understands that this was one giant cluster fuck. He’s used to those, he can handle those. “That’s good, sugar. Because New Years was probably the best night of my life.”

“God, I hope you mean that.” Your shakiness is for more than one reason, although you needed to have this conversation first. Whatever the two of you decide will happen next is a decision made by both of you, not just you alone. “Because…Ginger couldn’t clear me…after my physical. I can’t go back on the list.”

Jack frowns, brows pulling together. “Why can’t Ginger clear you? What’s wrong?” There’s a number of things that can be fixed by Statesman tech and he’s worried that it’s something bad.

Your stomach churns with worry, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. The unmistakable advances of Statesman tech can do things that most doctors absolutely cannot, thanks to Ginger Ale, and you’re not sure whether to thank her or curse her. “It’s not that something’s wrong, technically,” you admit, giving another worried squeeze to his hand. “But we probably ought to have used that condom…”

Jack’s eyes widen and they drop to your stomach, discerning the meaning of your comment. You aren’t a liar and Jack would believe you if you said you didn’t sleep with someone else, but he’s confused. “Sugar- how?” He chokes out. “I got snipped when I joined Statesman.”

“When was the last time you had your sperm count checked?” You had made Ginger do the test three times, but the result was always the same. Your birth control failed and Jack’s second kid is already growing, if very slowly. “The chances of a vasectomy failing are less than one percent, but it can still happen.”

Jack frowns and then rolls his eyes and groans. “The chamber.” He remembers. “When I got shot and then- uh, put back together.” He shakes his head. “Ging said I might need to get it checked but I dadgum forgot.” He bites his lip and tries not to freak out over the fact that you are pregnant after your one and only time together. “What do you want, sugar?” He asks.

“Not more than you’re willing to give freely.” The answer is that you want all of him. Every single bit. Love and a life and a family. But you know that even if Jack does love you, he’s never loved anyone the way he loved his wife. And losing Maria nearly destroyed him, so he may not be willing to take that chance again. “But I…unless you really object…I’m keeping the baby. Even if you don’t want a commitment or anything. I just…you’re right about me. I want a family and if this is my only chance I don’t want to give that up. Especially not if I get even the littlest piece of you with it.”

“You think I would-“ he shakes his head. “No, I would never force you, one way or the other.” He frowns. “I was asking if you wanted to have a baby. And if you think I’m gonna sit back and let you raise it by yourself, you must have hit your dadgum head.”

“I want this baby.” It had only taken about ten seconds after learning it existed to determine that, even if you’re still grappling with the reality of it. “And I want you.” You inch closer to him on the couch. “However you want to be together. That part is up to you.”

“It’s been a long damn time since I’ve thought about being a daddy, sugar.” There’s a slight smirk on his face but he doesn’t make the obvious crude joke. “But I’m pretty traditional when you break it down. I’m not gonna want to be apart from you and our baby.”

He might not have made the joke but you still laugh, having made the sugar daddy connection in your mind easily enough. “I know it’s a lot, Jack. And we didn’t plan it. But…” All you can do is shrug your shoulders slightly, looking up at him with such obvious hope and even more obvious water behind your eyes. “But, I love you.”

“I meant it, baby girl.” He promises you, reaching out to caress your cheek and then cup it. “I love you. I love you so much, sugar.” Licking his lips, his eyes drop down to yours. “Can I kiss you?”

"I wish you would." practically beaming at him, you lean in and let the moment wash over you. Jack's lips against yours. His hands on your skin. His baby - your baby - is already starting to grow.

Jack pulls you close, pressing his lips against yours and groaning softly. “Sugar, you’re gonna have my baby.” He whispers against your lips in awe. “Just the one time, one time between your thighs and you are carrying my baby.”

“One time is all it takes.” You can’t help the broad way you smile, giggling softly against his lips as you steal another kiss.

“I don’t regret it.” He promises. “I don’t regret you.” He smiles as he kisses you again. “We really did shake things up for New Years, didn’t we?”

“Just a little bit.” Another laugh escapes you, and you lean into his side only to be rewarded with Jack’s arms encircling you and holding you close. “I don’t regret any of it. Except maybe not making my message a whole lot clearer.”

“We’ll get better at communicatin’.” Jack promises with a smile. “We’re partners now.”

“Do you want to go get dinner, maybe?” The end of a mission can be crazy even when it’s successful, and you just want to try to relax tonight. Especially with everything changing in your personal life too, apparently. “My treat?”

Jack scoffs and shakes his head. “You ain’t paying, sugar.” He huffs. “Not while you’re with me. If you want dinner, we can go out, or I can take you home and throw some steaks on the grill.”

“I kind of want to celebrate,” you admit, feeling silly about it even though it’s the truth. “If that’s okay?”

“Then we’ll go out and celebrate.” Jack promises before he frowns at something you had said. “Why would you have thought I would never be interested in you?”

“Because…” It feels sillier than the celebration thing now that you know the truth. Silly and even a little pointless, but he asked so you’ll tell him. “Because you flirted with every woman in the world besides me. Which Ginger said is how she knew you were interested in me. But I didn’t believe her.”

“You know you’re wrong, don’t cha?” Jack asks you. “When you said that you get sent on assignments to be invisible? You’re sent on the assignments you are given because you get the job done. Champ knows that if he gives you a task, it will be done.”

“Whatever the reason is, he’ll have to do without me for about a year.” It isn’t worth having a debate over your lack of self esteem with him right now, and you especially don’t want to ruin the mood by crying anything other than happy tears, so you just redirect the conversation altogether. “This baby is my top priority.”

“Our top priority.” He corrects you. He’s nervous, terrified really, but there’s no one he’d rather have a happy accident with than you. “Our New Year’s baby.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack Daniels x f!reader #Jack Daniels x plus size reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels #Kingsman Golden Circle #new years eve #new years fic #idiots in love #pining #the love is requited they're just dumb

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 6 months

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Hello there ! I'm such a big fan of your work and i wanted to know if you could please write about azriel x plus size reader (cause curvy Queens deserves that giant bat too) ? Maybe something about her having insecurities BC azriel IS surrounded by beautiful slim women and she think that hes's in love with one of them until they're in a fight and he confesse his love to reader. AT first she can't believe it but she goes to cassian who's like "are you seriously that blind? He loved you the moment he looked a you ???" And then you Can add Smut were he workships her, i won't be against it (only if you're confortable with it obviously)

Big thanks for all your work and i looove you !!

Sorry, this took a moment. 🫧🤍

Picture perfect

In a way, you always felt like a misfit. It wasn’t only because of your looks. If you were to be frank you didn’t nitpick at yourself till others started throwing comments here and there. Planting these tiny seeds in your brain. Ones that bloomed it obstructed your vision, altering it in ways that made you cower in the big crowds of people. Made you avoid parties. Made you blind to so many other things.

Your saving grace for a long while had been Azriel. A childhood best friend who had seen you at your worst and stuck through it. So you felt comfortable with him. And even if he wasn’t big on speaking or voicing his opinion. One thing he never missed was completing you. You had always brushed it off. He was a spymaster after all. So, what if he noticed that you colored your hair slightly? Or curled it in another way. Or that you bought a different style of dress. Or got a new perfume. Rhys paid him to be observant, right? It was that until he had sat you down by the river one evening. And blurted out that he liked you while falling over every other word.

“No, you don’t”, you had whispered. “What do you mean, no, I don’t?”, he had pulled back in confusion. “As friends yes but not like… romantically”, you shrugged. Considering that you had fully convinced yourself that he would never fall for you. Not when he could have anyone. “Yn, I know how I feel and so that means that I like you”, Azriel said more firmly as you let out a low laugh, “Why are you doing this?”, you moved to stand up. “Doing what? Yn, if you don’t feel…”, he had moved to stand up but you were already stepping back from him. “I saw you with Sybile by the fountain today, don’t play games with me because I’m an ugly duckling”, you had hissed at him. Leaving him standing there all confused.

And now for the past week, you had done everything to avoid him. Feeling your heart ache more and more now that he wasn’t there to lean on. So your days were spent mopping over the past as you looked out the window till it got pitch black and you forced yourself to crawl into bed.

“Okay, I physically cannot take any more of this”, Cassian had strolled into the house of wind. A box of your favorite pastries in one of his hands. “Then I don’t know why you are here”, you huffed turning away from him. “I’m here because I apparently having the biggest brain out of the two of you”, he chirped, turning your chair so you would face him. “I highly doubt it”, you crossed your arms over your chest as you looked up at him. The general only smirked, he was used to tough bickering with Nesta.

“I will put this very simply”, Cassian said before shoving a donut into his mouth. “Azriel had been an ass. You had been up here for the past week”, he said with crumbs falling from his mouth, making you grimace.

“Can’t you chew and…”, “Shh”, he waved a powdered sugar-covered finger at you. “Now… You know why all of that happened?”, he asked as if you were a toddler. “Yes, Cass, I know. We fought”, you grumbled. But the general only made a dissatisfied boo. “You two are like that because you like each other but your head is more up your ass than his was”, Cassian clicked his fingers.

“That is not true”, you argued, tearing a part of an apple tart. “What’s keeping you from saying yes to him?”, now this hit you harder than you thought, making you stare up at him for a split second. You knew there was no point in lying. This man would sense a lie before it had a chance to leave your mouth.

“I’m not his type”, you muttered under your breath, already feeling your insecurities bubbling. “I would call that bullshit”, Cassian leaned back. “Cass, he dated goddesses. Slim. Tall. Everything sculpted with so much effort”, you grunted, “And then look at me. Ass, tits, I ain’t no size zero”. Cassian tilted his head to the side, “I fail to see a single bad thing in the way you just described yourself”. “Not funny, Cassian”, you grumbled, “I am not making fun of you same goes for Azriel. Do you know that he had been planning to tell you for the last two months? And I caught him vomiting right after dinner because he was way too nervous”, each of the generals words hit you like a blow. Azriel had planned it? Wasn’t a wimp? Wasn’t just a joke. He wanted to… “He’s been an angry little cloud”, Cassian chuckled, “And I think you should take him out of his misery because I know that you feel the same”.

You practically ran through the townhouse. Slipping steps in your way as you rushed to Azriel’s office. Practically falling through the door. Azriel was out of his chair in a hurry. Worry is written all over his face. “Has something happened? Have you been hurt?”, he asked frantically looking you over. You probably didn’t look too put together now that you had run like a maniac to get to him. You shook his head, “I had to see you, had to apologize”, you breathed out, “for the river”. Azriel’s shoulders sagged, “You have nothing to apologize for, I’m not here trying to make you like me”. You let out a painful sigh, “Azriel but I do like you it’s just…”, your voice fell silent for a moment, “I just don’t see why you would like someone like me”, you muttered looking down on yourself.

Azriel frowned, “What is that supposed to mean?”. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, “Well, don’t you want someone like Sybile, a perfect blond with two symmetrical breasts and no…”, “I will stop you right here”, Azriel cut in, stepping closer to you, cupping your cheek. “If I wanted to cuddle a bag of bones, I would go to the cave up the mountain”, he pointed out, making your eyes shoot out, “Az”, hissed. “I love you first for who you are and you come with extra assets to love. Not that I look at your breast when you wash linens in the river or anything”, Azriel shrugged as you hit his chest playfully, “Pervert”, you muttered. Feeling your lips curve upwards slightly. “I don’t measure my love for you in your weight or looks. And even if I did, it would just mean that I have more love for you”, “When did you turn into such a sweet lovey boy?”, you tilted your head to the side before giving it a little shake. “Just found this picture-perfect girl, she kind of made me fall head over heels for her”, Azriel muttered, before leaning in to kiss you softly.

#azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you

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icyg4l · 6 months

Text

Pick-A-Girl Group: What Purpose Do the Women In Your Life Serve?

Continuing on with my Women’s History Month series, I am going to do a reading on how the women in your life feel about you and the effect of these feelings. I am going to be using the True Heart Tarot Deck and the Archetype Oracle Deck. These readings are supposed to uplift, relate to and inspire women so I hope they serve their purpose. I Without further ado, please pick your pile. 🫶

***Disclaimer: Regardless of your gender identity, the women that are in your life deserve to be celebrated as long as they have pure intentions. Much love. 🩷

Left-to-Right (1-4):

Pile One: If you resonate with the image of FLO, then you deserve the whole fucking world. Pile One, the women in your life absolutely adore you. You probably resonate with the song’s theme: recognizing beauty in yourself when everyone is against you, specifically as a black woman. You have come such a long way. The women that are currently in your life have seen you make mistakes and allowed you to do so. They recognize your evolution. A lot of you have a best friend who you’ve been friends with for a long time and she is so proud of you. She is proud of the person that you have become. This pile has some cheerleaders around them. I feel like the women in your life are meant to take inspiration from what you are going through right now. I think that you may be going through your redemption arc.You’re forgiving yourself for a lot of things that you’ve done in the past. The women in your life see that and are following suit. After all, living life does mean not being a robot. These women who are around you are all ears, very receptive to what it is that you are doing with your life. You’re like their Oprah, lol. If you have a story to tell, share it with her. She may need to hear it. I channeled the show: Beyond Scared Straight; specifically the parts where the prisoners talk to the kids about their life stories and the reasoning for why they should not end up in jail. I feel like you could be someone’s mentor, whether they’re younger or the same age as you, perhaps even older. You are someone’s Reesa Teesa too, lol. I get the feeling that you need to be talking about yourself, Pile One. There is an audience full of women who are willing to hear you out and listen. When I pulled from the oracle deck, I got the following cards:

God: Benevolence and compassion. Recognizing the eternal force within yourself and others/Despotism and cruelty. Using power to control people

Mother: Nurturance, patience, unconditional love. Joy in giving birth to life/Smothering or abandoning children. Instilling guilt in children for becoming independent.

Poet: Expresses soul insights in symbolic language/Turns a lyric gift to negative or destructive effect.

Cards Used: 2 of Swords, 4 of Discs, 9 of Cups, Prince of Wands (RX), King of Discs, Four of Cups, Temperance.

Pile Two: If you resonate with the photo of Destiny’s Child, you got some ride or dies around you for real. I think that you’ve been through hell and back with the women in your life and they do not play about you. I think the women in your life want you to know that you are so worth it. I’m not going to lie Pile Two, it sounds like you’re in a toxic love situation and your girls want you out of it. Your friends, cousin or little sister could have told you that you need to exit stage left multiple times. They absolutely believe you deserve better. Hypothetically speaking, If y’all fell out today and an emergency happened tomorrow, they would be on the way to the hospital. I feel like family is so important to you. They feel like you’ve forgot about them but I don’t think that you have. Circumstances make it difficult for you all to see eye-to-eye. The women in your life want you to know that you are not alone. They will forever be there for you no matter what, even if you have lost your damn mind. These challenging times will make the bond between you and these women stronger. When I pulled from the oracle deck, I got the following cards:

Artist: Expressing a dimension of life that is beyond the five senses. Inspiring others to see life symbolically / Using talent as an excuse to mistreat others. Posing as the Starving Artist to elicit pity.

God: Benevolence and compassion. Recognizing the eternal force within yourself and others / Despotism and cruelty. Using power to control people

Goddess: The feminine expressed through wisdom. Nature, life force, and sensuality / Exploitation of the female nature and form

Cards Used: Ace of Discs, 9 of Swords, Princess of Cups (RX), Prince of Discs, The Hierophant, Princess of Discs, 4 of Cups (RX), The Devil (RX), 10 of Cups.

Pile Three: If you resonate with the photo of TWICE, you got the grandmother spirit around you. Did you grow up in the church? Or at least with a god-fearing grandmother? I feel like the women in your life hate to see you unhappy and this is what you’re feeling right now. I think that you may be uninspired/unfulfilled with what life is giving you right now. It’s not an uncommon feeling. But smiling can make all the difference. The women in your life want to see you smile, make you smile and laugh. They want to be there for you like how your grandmother was. No one will ever replace Granny but her presence is always there. You may be questioning God/your higher powers because of something that deeply affected you. But the women around you want you to not feel ashamed or want you to feel like they are judging you. They have been in the same predicament. They only want to see you get better. They hate to see you like this. It may be hard to do this but look at the glass half full, rather than half empty. They want you to get back to yourself, the version of you that isn’t defeated. When I pulled from the oracle deck, I got the following cards:

Child: Nature: Friendships with animals. Communication with nature spirits / Tendency to abuse animals, people and the environment.

Destroyer: Releasing what is potentially destructive. Preparing for new life / Intoxication with destructive power. Destroying others’ dreams or potential.

Child: Magical: Seeing the potential for sacred beauty in all things. The belief that everything is possible / Pessimism, depression and disbelief in miracles. Believing that energy and action are not required for growth.

Cards Used: The Devil, Princess of Cups, The Star, Judgment, The Moon, Temperance, Seven of Swords.

Pile Four: And lastly, if you resonated with the photo of the Spice Girls, you seem very sensual. Are you a SWer? Do you attend pole dancing classes for fun? Do you know someone who does either of these things? I feel like the women in your life appreciate how physical you are. You’re probably an artist and you're sensitive about your shit too. The women in your life feel as though you have a lot of talents. You’re very multifaceted and they love to brag about it, especially the older women. You could been the cousin who had to show off the latest dance move. So as a result, you became the leader of the pack. You can be naturally nurturing but it can drain you. The women around you feel like you need to put up some boundaries so that you can still worry about you. They respect your quality of being a giver, but do you even respect yours-[GUNSHOT]. There is a woman that you are close to that admires a quality that you hate. She compliments it any chance she can get because she wants to uplift you. I feel like people always try to touch you, whether it’s your hair, your arms, or even your butt. The women around you could immediately shut it down or call them out or defend it. They want to protect your innocence. Even though you are grown, you have that ingenue within you. They know how you can get (especially while under the influence) so they refuse to let you get that way. When I pulled from my oracle deck, I got the following cards:

Servant: Delight in serving others with a free and loving heart / Using the lack of money as an excuse not to move forward with life

Bully: Highlights your tendency to intimidate others. Helps you confront the inner fears that bully you / Conceals deep fears behind verbal or physical abuse.

Hedonist: Inspires creative energy to embrace the good things in life. Celebrates the beauty in yourself / Pursues pleasure to the detriment of health. Indulges at the expense of others.

Cards Used: The Star, The Lovers, Judgment, The Emperor, 7 of Cups, 10 of Swords, Ace of Cups, The Moon, 8 of Cups (RX).

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leossmoonn · 10 months

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hi! can I please request a fluff piece of Mike giving the reader a mixtape of songs he likes and thinks about them as a cute thoughtful gift? established relationship would be great :) thanks for writing, love reading your work!

thank you so much :D i feel like this is short but I hope you enjoy! (ps i curated a playlist for mike that i’ll list at the end of the fic! the songs are from the 70s, 80s and 90s based on his dad’s music taste but also the era he grew up in!!)

includes - switching between between memories and the present, mentions of verbal harassment. lowk kinda angsty but you’ll see why

————

“mike, just give it!” you groan. he sits next to you, fidgeting with the present in his hand. he twists the coils of the ribbon between his fingers.

“what if you don’t like it?” he asks. you give him a look. “i love it when you get me taco bell. of course i’ll love this. now give it to me, otherwise my assumption of you stalling because you forgot our anniversary will be become a fact.”

his eyes widen and he shakes his head furiously. “i would never forget an anniversary.”

you smile and pat his knee. “i know, which is also why i know this gift is going to be awesome!”

he sighs and slowly hands it to you. “happy one year.”

you smile in excitement, tearing the blue wrapping paper off. you gasp as you see a CD with a picture of you as the cover titled ‘how i feel about you.”

“oh, my god. mike.” you turn to him, pouncing on him and giving him a big hug. he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in. you can feel his heartbeat raging against his ribcage. you can feel how warm he is from anxiety.

“do you like it?” mike asks as you pull away. “i love it!” you grin from ear-to-ear. “no guy has ever done this for me. this… this must’ve taken a lot of work.”

he shrugs, “i’ve been thinking of these songs for a while. it was just a matter of burning them onto the CD.”

you sigh dreamily, attaching your lips to his in a slow and sweet kiss. “this is why you’re the guy of my dreams.”

he blushes heavily. “are you gonna see what’s on it? there’s a little list inside.”

you nod and open it, carefully taking the paper out. the first song on the list is “black star” by radiohead.

“that song is the song that was playing when i met you at the bar,” mike says.

you start to remember, your smile getting impossibly wider. you were a bartender around the time you met mike. it was a little bit past dinner time and mike had shown up with a woman, who you now know as vanessa. apparently, she was trying to get mike to flirt — or at least get himself out there. she had pointed out many women in the bar, but you caught his eye.

“can i get you two something to drink?” you asked. “i’ll have a martini,” vanessa said. she glanced at mike, awaiting his answer.

“uh, i’ll just take a beer,” mike said. honestly, you thought he had a staring problem at first. but turns out, he was just falling deeply in love with you.

“i can’t believe you remember that,” you awe. “of course i did. i love radiohead and you. it’s like the perfect combination,” he says.

“i’m not sure i like being associated with radiohead,” you giggle. you take a look at the other songs. one that sticks out to you is “baby can i hold you” by tracy chapman. you remember this song as the song you and mike danced to at your friend’s wedding, the one where he told you he loved you.

“may i have this dance?” mike stood up and held his hand out to you. you were taken aback. this was surely out of mike’s comfort zone. you’d been dating for six months then and you knew mike pretty well. you had just celebrated your six month anniversary where mike took you to this big fancy restaurant. you had insisted you didn’t need go to anyplace, but he also insisted that you deserved something special and he wanted to provide it to you. the whole time at the restaurant you knew he thought he was out of place and not good enough for it. so for him have asked you to dance was a surprise — good one, though.

“yes, you may, kind sir,” you smiled. you slipped your hand into his and he led you to the dance school. he put both hands on your waist while you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“you look beautiful tonight,” he said, gazing into your eyes. you smiled shyly. you were pretty outspoken, witty, charming, but also sometimes crude, person. but mike brought out a side of you that other people, and even you, experienced rarely. he made you feel bashful and special. you honestly loved it.

“you look handsome,” you said. “you make me look good,” he remarked. you rolled your eyes. “oh, whatever. i’ve seen two girls practically drool over you since we got here.”

he shrugged, “and every male here wants to take you home.” “well, i only want one man to take me home,” you smiled coyly.

mike smiled with you. you both swayed to the song as it ended. you were excited when the next song started to play.

“ugh, i love tracy chapman,” you gushed. “i love you,” mike said, not really thinking. you stoped dancing, jaw dropping at his words. it finally registered in his brain.

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t mean that. well, i did. but, i don’t have to. or, i guess you don’t have to say it back. you definitely don’t,” he rambled.

you stopped him with a kiss, smiling as you pull away. “i love you, too, mike.”

“i am so glad abby was gone that night,” you snicker. mike chuckles, “i’m sure we could’ve asked your friend if we could use her hotel room for a little bit.”

“and get it all messy before they mess it up? that would’ve been a good idea,” you say. you skim the list once more, surprised to see “songbird” by fleetwood mac.

“isn’t this the song we drove home to after we fought?” you ask. “yep,” mike nods.

that night, you and mike had your first bad fight. it wasn’t your very first one, but it was the worst by far.

mike was picking you up from work and when he walked in, he saw a guy harassing you at the bar. you were obviously handling it: ignoring the guy and having your co-workers stand up for you. but something in mike just snapped. you two were a pretty new couple. you’d only been going out for two months at that point. while you had already stayed countless nights at his place, were practically bffs with abby, and shared your deepest darkest secrets, there were other aspects of the relationship that you two were still navigating. so it didn’t help that when mike heard the guy call you a bitch, he punched the guy.

in the moment, you thought it was a justified act. in fact, you still thought so. but you were mad that mike didn’t let you handle it. you were mad that mike seemed to always lose his temper. you were mad that mike didn’t see you as independent.

you both were outside in the parking when the fight started.

“you need to go to an anger management class or something,” you muttered.

“that guy needs to go to how-to-not-be-a-creepy-asshole class,” mike said.

you sighed loudly and crossed your arms. mike scoffed and glanced at you. “do you not agree with me?”

“of course i do, mike! but you can’t just walk into my place of work and assault someone.”

“he was harassing you and probably was going to hurt you!”

“no, he wasn’t.”

“and how do you know that?”

“because niki had just called security and there were other customers in the bar helping me out.”

mike huffed, “i didn’t know she had called security.”

“if you had just minded your own business then you would have.”

mike balled his hands into a fist and then relaxed them. “you don’t need to act so tough, you know?”

you turned your head slowly at him. “excuse me?”

“i know you’re independent and you take care of yourself. i like that about you a lot. it’s one of my favorite qualities about you. but you have to learn how to accept help from other people, especially in situations like that. you have no idea how those situations can just flip within seconds.”

“that’s really rich coming from you.”

“what the hell does that mean?”

“you never accept help.”

“yes, i do.”

“no, no you don’t. you don’t accept help from the baggers at the grocery store. you don’t accept help from abby or me when cleaning or cooking. you didn’t even accept help when my friend’s husband offered to fix your sink, you said no. and he was offering it to you for free, might i add.”

“i can do all those things myself.”

“i know you can, but it’s also okay to have an extra set of hands.”

“if i’m so bad at accepting help, why can’t you accept my help?”

“you think breaking someone’s nose is helping me?” you scoffed. “you are such an idiot mike.” you grabbed the car keys out of his hand, unlocking the car and sliding into the passengers seat. mike groaned and sighed, joining you for what he thought was going to be the worst car ride of his life. the drive was expected to be pretty short, but with just your luck, traffic was terrible. while it was only 9 pm, there was an accident on the highway, making both sitting ducks.

mike sighed and glanced at you. you had a permanent glare on your face it seemed. your arms were still crossed and you looked out the window to avoid any and all eye contact with him.

guilt seeped into him. he knew what he did was wrong. well, he still didn’t think he was wrong, he just knew it wasn’t the right choice. he should have asked the guy to leave and to just take you home. he should have waited for security to grab him, to make sure the guy wouldn’t follow you home. all he wanted it to protect you. he did the same with abby. maybe not in a violent way, but he thought he was his life mission to protect the ones he loved. he wanted to do better than with you two than he did with garrett.

and you knew that. you knew all about garret and freddy’s. the animatronic business seemed crazy to you and you didn’t quite understand that part, but you tried to be as supportive, understanding, and sympathetic as you could as you’ve never experienced what he has. you just wish it didn’t get the best of him sometime.

mike turned on the radio. you scoffed, not believing that he’s turned on music. he turned on a classic hits radio. “keeping on loving you” by reo speedwagon was about to end, “songbird” trailing right after it.

“this is a good song,” mike remarked. you hummed in reply with something that sounded like a “yes”. mike stayed silent for a couple of seconds. he knew if you were to talk again, he would have to apologize first.

“i’m sorry i got out of control. i was just trying to protect you. that guy was being an asshole and you’ve hurt you. i guess i just wanted to hurt him before he could get to you,” he said. “but i know it’s not right and i know you have support at the bar. i just get scared with you working there with all those weirdos. i know you’re a grown adult adult, though, and you can handle yourself.”

you slowly turned to him, eyes softening upon seeing him. “it’s…” you sighed quietly, straightening up in your seat to face him completely. “it’s okay, mike. i know you were trying to protect me. i really appreciate it, i do. i love when you’re there for me. i just… he could’ve hurt you, too. and you could’ve gone to jail, too, if he decided to press charges. honestly, i just don’t want to be the reason that happens.”

mike shook his head. “you could never be. i would’ve happily gone to jail if it meant i helped you and made sure you were safe.”

you grinned teasingly. “you would happily go to jail?” he smiled with you. “anything for you.”

you laughed and shook your head, placing a hand on his thigh. “i forgive you. and i’m sorry about all the things i said about you not accepting help.”

“it’s true. i’m sorry about everything i said and did.”

“it’s alright,” you said. traffic began to move just then. both of you pumped your fists in the air and cheered. “god, finally!” you exclaimed.

“your place or mine?” mike asked. “what do you think?” you smiled.

“this is a great song, but why’d you choose it? it has to bring up some bad memories, right?” you ask.

“it did at first,” mike admits. “but, we made up. and we were able to settle arguments faster and better after that. also, the song lyrics are just how i feel about you. ‘to you, i’ll give the world. to you, i’ll never be cold. cause i feel that when i’m with you, it’s alright. i know it’s right’,” he cites.

you feel like your heart will explode from love. you hug him once more, holding him too you so tight he’s afraid he won’t be able to breathe. but he doesn’t mind. you pull away slightly, looking into his eyes.

“i love you so much, mike. you are hands down the best person that’s ever walked into my life.”

he smiles and leans in and kisses you softly. he pulls away to catch his breath, taking your free hand into his. “i love you more.”

mike’s mixtape for you

black star - radiohead

girl from mars - ash

sunday morning - maroon 5

your song - elton john

baby can I hold you - tracy chapman

something - the beatles

faithfully - journey

songbird - fleetwood mac

iris - goo goo dolls

everlong - foo fighters

————

taglist

@celestbarnes

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x you

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notthecutesttrash · 1 month

Text

Grey (Pt. 3/Final)

Warnings: Reader is painfully nice, angst, ultra fluff

Word count: 8k

PART 1, PART 2

At lunch, you sit in your old spot. Your feet dangling above the ground atop the bench while eating the food your mother made yesterday. She didn’t leave you a note this time, seeing how upset you have been these past few days, which is a relief. It was quiet today. No girls to bother you, no one near your favorite large tree that the wind loved to surround.

Sure you’re relieved that you can finally eat food, relieved that you’re undisturbed, relieved you won’t have any more bruises.. but you aren’t happy. And you’re only able to eat half of your food before you lose your appetite.

You make sure to avoid everyone if possible. Throughout the scowls, the glances, and the even more hidden whispers, you keep your head low and move quickly to avoid interaction. Especially making sure to ignore a specific Miya twin. It’s not like he would deliberately talk to you now that the project is over, but still, you’d rather not see him at all.

Practice always arrived promptly. Although you’re doing all right, better than before perhaps, you don’t say much. Lucy looks like she wants to approach you a few times, but you make sure to pack up and exit so fast she’s unable to. Several times you nearly stumble into a set of yellow and grey-haired twins who leave their practice around the same time as you, as unfortunately, the other gym is right across theirs. Fortunately, you manage to quickly scurry away, enough for them not to notice you.

Atsumu lately is giving you more glances than usual as if he is planning on saying something. So when the bell rings you would rapidly spring out of your seat and run to the bathroom. Closing the stall, you’d sit on the toilet and hold your lunch to your lap, exhaling a relieved sigh.

You didn’t want to hear any more teasing. Not after that embarrassing display you showed.

It keeps replaying in your head over and over. The way you're pushed to the ground, surrounded by bullies, revealing your terror so promptly. The way Mr. Knight in shining black armor saves the day and makes you feel even worse.

I don’t need your help. Leave me alone. That phrase echoes in your head.

Pathetic. You can’t even deal with your problems, instead, Atsumu of all people helped, and worse.. it did something. You aren’t being targeted anymore and that was irritating. If it hadn’t been for him, you wouldn’t be in this stall right now miserably eating your lunch. Food would be in your hair, you’d come home to your mom and dad who’d ask how the day went, and you'd have to keep up the stupid lie of sharing your food.

Sighing, you pack up the rest of your lunch.

Kiyoko and the women trudge into the area, their hair a little damp, bits of food poking in it. Their heads hang low, and some are snickering at them.

It seemed the tables had also now turned, and you didn't know why.

You’re confused as you spot Atsumu chuckling, and some part of you is disappointed in him.

When you’re studying them, they manage to gather a collective scowl at you, and accustomed to the fear you swiftly spin.

Before everything, you'd eat alone, avoid any interaction, ignore bullying, play, run off, go home, stay in your room all day, do homework, and then go to sleep. It was just as it was, back to normal. No pathetic fangirls, no men, and no motherly teasing. No one spoke to you, everyone (besides Atsumu striving to get your attention) ignored you as you did to them.

Kiyoko might give you a few scowls sure, but did she deserve that?

It was perfectly justified, just how everyone decided it should be… Right?

A voice would selfishly reason that it is better than being the one who is repeatedly bullied. You would no longer dread going back to school, no more panic attacks at 4 am, just a plain good night’s sleep.

But you're not satisfied now.

It's just wrong.. all wrong.

When class ends, you encounter eyes with Atsumu.. then you do the unthinkable.

You start fixating as Kiyoko's aggressively packs her bags before going home. She’s too drowsy to even force a glare yet still has a hard hatred in her eyes when fixated. “Uh… hey, Kiyoko.”

“What?”

Atsumu is confused, and he’s frozen beside the door as he watches the exchange. You’re shyly fidgeting with your fingers and she scowls at you.

You mutter to not be heard by a certain someone. “Are you… okay?”

Kiyoko’s eyes widen, but It sharply settles to a glower that feels similar to Atsumu before he had told her off.

“Like you care.” She shoves past you, bumping your shoulder, and stomps out the room. It’s a silent pitiful pause before you start to do the same and Atsumu calls out to you.

“(Y/n) wait-“

He blocks the doorway, and you stand, crossing your arms. You have a cold expression, and you're glaring angrily. “What are you doing?”

“Getting your attention.” He looks pathetically desperate, and you grunt.

“No. I mean, what are you doing?” You firmly repeat, and he's visibly lost and doesn’t understand.

“Are you bullying Kiyoko?” He’s taken aback at your words, shocked. He doesn’t respond, he’s not sure how to when the answer is around the lines of, "yes- but not in that way."

A pin drop can be heard in the heaviness. You gather every bit of courage and force your way out, declaring something that makes him still.

“You’re such a jerk.”

Atsumu is accustomed to these words. Osamu, his team members, women, friends and, so on would say similar phrases along these lines. It shouldn’t have hurt, but when you did, there was a pang in his chest like none other.

This time when you rushed out of practice today, you saw Atsumu waiting outside.

“(Y/n) lis-“ You spin on your heel the opposite way and rush off. He sighs, slumping disappointedly. He fixates on your retreating form, a twitch prodding his lips into a small inevitable frown.

Osamu elbows him hard in the side, forcing him out of his trance and causing him to grumble.

“Talk to her.”

His shoulders fall as he watches your even farther form. You’re clutching your bag desperately tight, and your speed walking like you’re politely running away.

“Yea, easy for you to say. She doesn’t want to be talked to.”

“And how do you know?”

“Hm, I dunno, maybe her saying the words “leave me alone.” or you’re such a jerk.”

Rintaro joins the conversation as he walks out of the gym. “She’s a girl. All of them do that. In reality, that’s code for “give me attention.” Because if you don’t they’ll just get even more mad.”

Shinsuke follows after, stoically blinking. “Were you talking with her normally before?”

“I mean.. a little.. yeah.”

“So did you do anything impolite to make her not want to talk to you?”

Atsumu’s expression falters, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Well..”

“He made her cry, twice.” Osamu chips in, and Atsumu elbows him hard, his expression changing into a glare.

“Huh, maybe she does want you to leave her alone then,” Rintaro says.

He quickly slumps in defeat. “Yeah… I’ve been.. a bit of a jerk.”

The team side eyes each other. “A bit?”

“There's a possibility it can all be fixed by communication. Go apologize and talk about it,” Shinsuke says simply. Atsumi groans aloud, face planting.

“What if she hates me now Samu?”

“I was just trying to help.”

“Do you think I really am mean?”

“Do I deserve redemption?”

Osamu’s eye twitches at the tenth whine and nearly decks his brother in the face when they arrive home.

When you open the door to yours, you look miserable.

“Are you okay?” Your mother asks, and you let out an exhausted breath.

“Yeah.” Slipping your shoes off, you leave the rest of your lunch on the table and rush to go upstairs. Your mother is frowning once she opens the bento, finding the food only half eaten. It was just like before when there was no project, no bullies, and no boy.

Cuddling your blankets you turn on the TV to watch whatever. You remain like that for a few minutes before a gentle buzz vibrates the bed. Pulling it to your sight, you see

Miya Atsumu: “Can we talk?”

You huff and throw the phone away from you. What did he possibly have to talk about to have the nerve to text you?

The worst part is you didn’t even hate him for it, and you despised that you didn’t.

Maybe if you were a vengeful person, you’d be at peace now. You should just be happy that Kiyoko and the others are getting a taste of their own medicine. But you aren't. You’re not happy, it doesn’t make you proud, It makes you sad.

Frankly, you just want nothing happening at all. You’re okay with a boring life, no one speaking to you, no one being bullied, eating lunch, going to practice, coming home, eating dinner, and going to sleep. That’s it, that’s all you needed and you’d be happy.

But would you though?

All you can think about is the warm sputter of butterflies in your stomach when he brushed up against your leg at that desk last Friday. The way he so genuinely smiled and how it made your heart bloom. He’s so different when it’s with you alone, so how could he be so cruel?

At dinner time, you’re quiet and your parents send a few glimpses to another. There is a dull ache in your chest as you eat, and you can’t help but remember how your mom giggled when Atsumu was at the table. It’s a direct comparison to the painful silence right now. Your dad is reading the paper, your mom is awkwardly eating, and you’re pressing your hand against your cheek while shoving small forceful bits of food into your mouth.

“So..” your dad starts and you’re already dreading this.

“Anything new happening lately?” Your mom gives him a certain look as if saying are you sure you want to go into that?

“No.”

“How was the project?”

You shrug. “It was fine.”

“You’re no longer talking to that boy?” Your dad hesitantly asks. Your mom clears her throat when you go silent.

Your tone is frustrated and drawn out as you battle with your patience. “It was just a project Dad. We did our work and now it’s done, it’s been done since Tuesday.”

He slowly nods and looks at your mom again.

“Well..” she starts and you don’t know where it’s going but you give her a fed-up look. “Do you like him?”

You go silent again and you’re no longer eating, just playing with your food. There's a mixture of both disgust and affirmation to that question.

“No..”

They share a look. “Okay.”

“But..”

You sigh when it still keeps going.

“If you do… maybe you should talk to him.”

They don’t know the full story. All they know is a man you might like gets assigned to be your partner and sparks fly. They don’t know your mixed emotions.

They don’t know how he made you cry twice. The first from him practically calling you a loser and laughing in your face. The second, him seeing the embarrassing display of being bullied by his own fangirls, and worse, saving you from it. They don’t know the evil side of him when he is returning the favor to them right after.

“Yeah.. I guess.” You take a small unenthused bite of food, then stand, signaling that you’re done talking.

A buzz vibrates your phone, and you’re washing the dishes, ignoring the sound. You know who it is.

“Is that Atsumu?” Your mother chirps in, also just happening to know. It rumbles again and you sigh.

You want to say it was another friend or Lucy, but that would be a fat lie. No one texts you, you have no friends. Lucy didn’t even have your number, she was just a nice teammate. Your parents have been trying not to pester you about it, but now and then they would imply something along the lines of getting together or inviting a certain someone for dinner.

They didn’t know what was happening, they had zero rights.

Your curiosity gets the better of you. Subconsciously you pull it to your view and you see 2 notifications belonging to the name of Miya Atsumu.

Miya Atsumu: “Can I just explain?”

Miya Atsumu: “Please?”

Why did he want to talk to you so badly? You just can't understand it. Did he care about you or something? No. That’s out of the question.

For the first time you’re instinctively typing an angry response, forgetting that he can see the bubbles on his end. Crap. You delete it quickly and your heart stammers when you see an immediate text forming from him. A minute passes of nothing and you exhale a breath of relief, maybe he didn’t see and was caught up in his own text. Or he respected your lack of answer, which you doubted, but you’re glad you don’t see another.

Why did you still have his number in your phone anyway? The project was over, he isn't going to keep talking to you after he's bored. Just because he hasn’t been mean to you for those few days during the project didn't mean he suddenly changed.

A sting in your heart rejects that notion, remembering again the feeling of your heart when you both share a laugh and work beside each other. Whenever his eyes would twinkle at you so sweetly like he actually cared.

You should hate his stupid smug face, the way it looks at you, the way his eyes glimmer. You should hate him, and Kiyoko, and Angie, and Osamu, and.. and.. ugh. You’re practically scrubbing a plate down to the bone before your mother plucks it out of your hand.

“I think it’s clean now.” You’re groaning, jaw clenched so tightly you’re sure you’re going to snap something.

“Why don’t you just go upstairs, for now, I’ll finish the rest.” She says, grabbing the sponge out of your hands.

You breathe what feels like steam. “Fine.”

Over the next few days Atsumu is still desperately trying to get your attention. Practically doing anything in his power to make sure the stars align to speak to you. But you’re quicker.

Whenever you see that yellow hair you make sure to run far, bolting at the slightest resemblance. You never even manage to get to your locker before he’s in the hallway, so you’re forced to carry obnoxious books while you sprint off. Besides, even if the fangirls were told off, you’re sure they would do something once they see you speaking with him again. And it's not like you’d tell him either if something did. They can easily threaten you, and force you to meet up outside of school so you can get thrashed around.

Today he’s nowhere in sight and you’re finally releasing the pounds of weight off your arms.

“Hey.” A familiar stern voice shakes you to your core, and you slowly stand around to get a view of the person.

Osamu, thank god.

“Hi..?” You awkwardly press your back against the locker, staring at the calm features that replicate Atsumu. He looked much different, and his features are more relaxed.

“You’re (Y/n) right?” He asks.

You’d think he'd remember that after the time his brother made you run off with tears.

“Yeah..” you trail off, unable to meet his eye while you grip the strap of your bag tightly.

“Hm.” He pauses randomly, studying you, and you’re shuffling your legs nervously.

Finally, he speaks. “Do me a favor, tell Sumu off so he can finally stop bothering me.” You furrow confusedly.

“What?”

“He won’t shut up about you, I’ve been hearing it for weeks now," he groans. You’re eyes widen. You can't believe him, but he looks terribly annoyed just thinking about it that it makes it seem truthful.

“What? Weeks?” That didn’t make sense.

“Or get together already, I don’t care.” He sighs tiredly, like fed up with the world.

You huff, “All he cares about is bullying,” under your breath.

He shrugs, “He can't pull that off, he's too focused on whining like a baby trying to get your attention.”

If Atsumu was here, surely he’d be arguing with his brother, exclaiming, “That’s not true!” But you’re ogling at the imaginary scene, unable to even picture that.

You awkwardly say an "okay.." mainly to end the conversation.

He lets out a sigh, the only thing his mind can go to as he walks off is food. “I’m hungry.”

He’s gone before you could even respond, and you’re standing there, completely dazed. What even just happened?

It’s cold outside, it's the weekend luckily, and you’re bumping your volleyball at home to the wall, practicing your receives. No texts were received today which was nice. You knew he’d get bored. He’s fed up and the chain of command continues. You're free while others take your stead.

Guilt aches in your chest from that thought.

“Dinners almost ready (Y/n)!” Your mom calls out, and you pant into the wispy air. Setting the volleyball down, you take off your outside shoes and slide the door behind you. It’s warm, and your dry hands clasp together, receiving the heat. Your moms about to serve the food, and you stand at the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m going to get my gloves for outside.”

She nods and you rush up. Where were they? You haven’t used them since last winter. You search in your closet, crouching to see if you can find the labeled bin. Hands digging deep into the space, you’re so concentrated on trying to find the mitts that you don’t even hear the knocking on the door.

You do hear small mutterings of your mother down the stairs, but can’t make it out too well. You shrug, assuming she was just talking to your father anyway.

“Oh my- yes yes, of course, come in. You must be freezing, poor dear.”

Ah! There they are! Stuffed in between your summer shorts and sandals. Guess you must’ve disorganized them along the way.

“Got them!” You walk downstairs with your head down, holding the mitts in your hand. You turn to set them on the table and cease the movement, eyes widened in shock. Your heart nearly leaps to your tight throat, and your stomach is anxiously swarming.

“What’s he doing here?” You look to your mom who just allowed your worst nightmare to come in. He’s panting, looking at you with determined eyes, his brows furrowed and his expression serious.

“Don’t be rude (Y/n). He came to see you. You don’t expect me to leave him out there in the cold do you?” She waves you off and walks to the kitchen to leave you two peering at another. You’re about to turn away to run back up the stairs, and he shouts out, “Wait!” You stop in your tracks, pursing your lips, eyes shut.

“Can we just talk.. please?” Your fingers are holding onto the railing, your right foot at the first step. Don’t look, don’t listen, just leave.

You turn around to face him, and his eyes widen a little. You turn to your mother who is making herself busy, and you gesture your head up the stairs. Were you really going to do this again? Why? Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you sending him out, shoving him away, and saying leave me alone?

He nods quickly and follows. Once the door closes you whip around to him, crossing your arms firmly. “Why are you here?”

You’re taken aback at his exhaustion, he’s panting, and his blonde hair is a little disheveled. He’s a mess, and you’re confused, he’s always so well put together with that plastered smirk that said “I’m better at everyone at everything, and I know it.”

You bite your lip, some guilt settling in your chest as you wait for him to catch his breath.

Eventually, he brushes his hair to the side, breathing deeply and fixating calmly on you. “Listen, I know you don’t want to talk to me. I know you don’t like me.. for good reasons.” You remain quiet, nodding to his words. He thinks a second before speaking again.

"But I didn't hurt Kiyoko or anyone else." You squint your eyes and he stumbles over his words. "Maybe I indirectly started it after I called her some mean things, but I wasn't the one who did that, like they did to you." You're humming as you think. You aren't sure if that pleases you.

He suddenly gestures low for a bow and you flinch a little at the fast movement. “I’m sorry for being a jerk. I'll do better, i'll make it up to you I promise.” You’re shocked at this change of heart and he continues, sputtering a little.

“I hope you can forgive me, it doesn’t have to be now.. just someday.. and I'll do whatever it takes to regain your trust, and if you still decide that I am not worthy of it in the end.. " He pauses. "That’s okay.. I’ll understand.”

You don’t even know what to say, but those are the last words you expected. He really felt.. sorry? Was that even possible? No that wasn’t right, this must be a ploy. Frankly, you don't get why he wants your trust so badly in the first place, but you’re kind of flattered.

Though.. Atsumu wouldn't lie would he? He’s hardly the type to even feel guilty over tears, he’d never stoop so low to beg for forgiveness if he didn’t want to. He is a jerk and he even admitted that, but he can’t be serious, can he?

Standing straight again, his serious expression alone proves you as wrong as can be, and he’s desperately scanning your expression, looking for any possible emotion. You quietly turn your head to the side, mind still mulling over the current scene.

When he recognizes the absence of words, he bows again, this time politely. “That’s.. all I wanted to say, I will leave now.” He turns his back to you, signaling his movement. The door opens and he’s about to step out, and you have a voice that’s screaming at you to stop him before it’s too late.

“Wait.”

He stops and looks at you expectantly, and you inhale deep. You shouldn’t be saying this, but you are.

“Apologize to Kiyoko too.” He grimaces like you just uttered the most foul words in existence.

He breaks out with a, “Huh?”

“Apologize to her, and the other girls.”

Again, he repeats even louder. “What?”

You press your hands against your waist, frustrated he isn't understanding.

“Apolo-“

“No, I heard you.” He presses a hand to his forehead and sighs.

"Why?" He asks, and you breathe deep.

"Because.. even if they started it.. I know how it feels, and I never want anyone to go through that."

It wasn’t exactly what he expected when he said he’d do anything for your trust, but he'd still do it for your sake. Although he might not agree with the choice, he can understand the need to have peace in your mind.

“Promise.” Your tone is firm and you’re pointing at him with your pinky. “Promise you’ll do it and be nice." You don’t even know why you expect him to agree and follow through, but you oddly trusted him.

The idea of apologizing to those girls of all people makes him grumble under his breath. He presses his pinky into yours and locks it, his voice filled with reluctance, “Yeah, I promise.”

“Good.” You nod, and when it gets silent again you clear your throat. "So.. do you want to stay for dinner?"

He gently laughs and shoves back the idea of what he'd have to do later.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiles genuinely and you nod.

Dinner is only awkward for a few seconds until your mother begins speaking to Atsumu. They laugh amongst each other and a small tug pries your lips.

The conversation stops as the front door opens and closes. Your father walks in and your mother claps her hands in excitement. He makes eye contact with Atsumu and they greet one another very politely. You’re suddenly anxious as your dad takes a seat beside you. He has a firm expression and presence, but it eases into pleasantness as holds his hand out to Atsumu.

“Atsumu right? I heard a lot about you, nice to meet you.” Atsumu shakes his hand and glimpses your way.

“Heard a lot about me?”

You know what he’s thinking and you turn a small shade of pink, glaring at your mom whose stifling a laugh. Your dad joins in the laughter, even Atsumu, and you’re beet red. You aren’t the one always talking about him.

“We’re just teasing (Y/n).” Your mom waves and you huff, forcing more food into your mouth.

“So tell me Atsumu, what’s your favorite food?” Your mom asks for no particular reason and you cough.

“Anything you make for (Y/n) is enough to keep me happy.” He responds pleasantly and your mom presses a hand to her chest.

“What a charmer.”

You're planning on rolling your eyes when you look at him. But you're surprised the way he seems so genuine. Most cases he is confident and smug, but the way he grins so happily right now shows you that you're wrong.

You avert from the scene and you can see him gazing at you longingly in your peripheral. Your cheeks dust pink.

The room gradually cascades with laughter, and your stomach flutters whenever he makes your parents laugh.

When it’s time for him to go, he politely thanks them for the meal and says his farewell. They let you walk him out. He steps outside and you’re fidgeting a little with your fingers. “Um so.. I’ll see you..”

He beams and rotates. “Yeah. Cya (Y/n)”

“Don’t forget the promise!!” You call out and even if it makes him sigh, he answers “I won’t.”

You close the door, walk to your room, and lay in the bed. Gazing at the ceiling you think of the scene that just transpired. Shoving your face into the pillow, a loud squeal escapes, and your legs dangle like a schoolgirl.

You did it. You actually fell for the jerk Miya Atsumu.

When it's Monday, you're nervous yet excited to finally get the peace you so crave and to prove to your heart that he is a good person.

He's dreading when he glances to Kiyoko. She’s visibly scared in her seat as he approaches her. "Hey." He starts, a little too aggressively right off the bat. You clear your throat, signaling him to be aware.

Exhaling a sigh, he presses his hand behind his neck. "Come on, you guys too." They all stand and jitter nervously, and you tail behind them.

They look like kicked puppies, and in a way it almost makes you feel pitiful.

He walks to the same terrible corridor you had frequented for those dreadful days. You remember the way they would dump food on you and kick you, yet even if it slightly hurt to witness what you're forcing him to do when.. you know it'll be worth it in the end. Finally he stops, and you do the same. Atsumu shuffles uncomfortably, like unsure he was going to get this far. They look freaked out and tense as planks while waiting.

He grits his teeth and sucks in every little bit of pride he has. "I'm sorry." Everyone blanks at the tone. It was a bit forced, but you suppose it had to do.

They're confused, unsure if this was some trick before you appear at his side and elbow him lightly. He's peering at you with a look that says “I have to say more?"

Grumbling and huffing, he continues, “sorry for treating you the way I did. I won’t do it again.” The apology comes out so eerily even they cringe. That was harder to force out than anything he’s said in his life, and that said a lot.

His eyes zone in on Kyoko mainly. She's bewildered and you wriggle awkwardly. The tension is worse than when you were forced to work with him on the project the first day. It's quiet and you touch his arm, forcing him to look at you with a certain gaze. You signal for him to leave them alone.

"Lets go."

He exhales a sigh, and his hand presses against your shoulder. Even in this weird scene you're blushing at the action. The girls are staring at you like deers in headlights, their mouths agape, slack jawed and stuck. The struggle to not send them a threat shooting down their spines had him walking away a lot faster than you would've thought and he's gone before you know it.

You awkwardly walk pass the group whose heads follow you like dolls. "Atsumu!" You call out, sprinting and panting down the halls.

He's grumbling to himself, speaking nonsensically and because of the height difference, his steps are like twice of yours. "Wait up!" He finally pauses, and turns to you surprised when he sees you holding your hands to your knees, exhausted.

He wants to be annoyed at you, but its hard to frankly, and when you're done heaving, you press your hand to him. He twitches a little and you look to him with wide twinkling orbs. "Thank you for doing that."

He blinks at you and pulls back nervously, a stammer in his chest. "Y-Yea.. no problem."

Suddenly every bit of him is glad it worked out this way.

As the days pass, you've been gradually getting more comfortable with him. You've been exchanging bentos, teasing another, sharing advice about volleyball(mainly on his side), and walking each other to practice. And Kiyoko wasn't sending you glares that much anymore which was nice.

You’re packing up your things as slowly as usual, and Sumu is stretching, complaining. “We’re gonna be late for practicee (Y/n).”

“Then goo.”

Atsumu huffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You catch a side glance of Kiyoko who is still in class, feigning patience as she anxiously looks towards you and back. It could just be your imagination, but it looks like she might want to say something.

You angle your head toward her subtlety and he understands, fixating on the sight. She jolts at just the glimpse and is finding things to touch and direct her attention to. He gives you an annoyed look and you shoo him away.

If it wasn’t for appeasing you on this promise, he probably would be giving her hell right now you're sure. You pat him on the shoulder, practically begging with your eyes, and he nearly rolls his. Exhaling in defeat he points to the door.

“I’ll be outside.”

It’s a weird tension when he’s gone. You should've been timid and scared but you're not. Perhaps it’s because of Mr. fussy outside, or maybe because you just feel better about the situation and you're ready to hear what she has to say.

She walks to you very slowly and keeps her lips separated as she thinks. “So… um..”

“I did a lot of bad things to you..” She’s biting her lip and she speaks vaguely, either too ashamed or hesitant to confront you. You purse your lips when it gets silent, beginning to writhe at the heaviness.

“Your mom’s cooking really wasn’t that bad, I just.. wanted to be mean.. among other things..” She trails her words like there's more. Her voice gets real low, but you hear it, and she says "Sorry.."

It's a small pause before she continues, “I’d.. um.. probably be getting the same treatment.. if.. um..” she’s clearly struggling to elaborate, for fear perhaps it’d be too pitiful or embarrassing.

Her voice gets lower and she’s fixated on the corner of the room.

“I appreciate it.. Thanks..”

You awkwardly respond with a nod.

She mimics that motion, then grabs her things and timidly sprints off. Surely she met Atsumu on the way out, and hopefully, nothing is said between the two. A small contempt smile is on your face. You're happy.

Before you can even finish walking out the door hands instantly meet your shoulders. You’re abruptly whirled around to meet Atsumu who is filled with concern.

“Did she do anything?” His hands touch your chin, moving it directly yet gently to the left, then to the right, up, and down. He's carefully examining the way your strands are positioned to see if it differed from when he left, if there's a crinkle in your clothes, if your skin is touched, anything he could possibly notice.

You playfully slap his fingers away. “I’m fine Sumu, nothing happened. We just talked.”

His eyes raise, and he doesn't look like he believes you. “You just talked?” You nod shyly.

“About what?” He’s trying to hide the small irritation in his voice but you can tell it’s just slightly there. You supposed it was reasonable though.

You want to tell him, but for the sake of her privacy (and pride mainly) you say “… Girl things.”

He still doesn’t seem to believe you but he hums anyway. “Nothin' bad?” You hold your pinky out to him.

“Promise.”

You two would then stroll to the gymnasiums, and Lucy would greet the both of you before you'd separate and begin conversing. Then when practice would finish you found that you had been bolting out the door much faster than anyone and shouting, “Bye! See you tomorrow!”

You'd rush to meet with the twins who usually were just beginning to walk out. Atsumu would grin at you, and you’d blush as you talk to him, pushing stray hair behind your ear. He walked you home like usual, sometimes even greeting your mother who will try to (always) invite him to dinner.

He might make some excuse and say he’s busy, or.. secretly your favorite, when he decides to stay and sometimes even hang out with you in your room to do homework together. But nothing else came of it, just homework. You enjoyed the time together when he and you would sit very close, quietly writing, reveling in the peace.

Luckily today was one of those days.

Atsumu likes concentration, he is oddly very silent and focused when he works. The only time he would get a little annoyed is when there were unnecessary sounds, like pens clicking too much or chatter. You understood that, so it’s easy for you two to work together.

Yet even when you two are starting at the same time, he manages to do it very quickly once he gets himself in the moment. This skill he had made it so that he was always done first, and from there he would typically head off since it’d always be like 8 or so. That always made your heart drop a little.

This time though, he sits on your bed and yawns. You blink at him confused, and he gestures you over. “Let’s watch a movie.” Your heart thumps at the idea, but you remember there's still work sitting on your desk.

“I still have a bit more to do..”

“It’s Friday, I’m confident you can get it done before Monday.” He teases and you avert your attention to the worksheets left. It wasn’t that much, that’s true. You could just do it tomorrow.

He’s a bit more gentle with his tone when he speaks. “I’ll make it up to you if you don’t get it done, promise.”

“Okay..”

You sit near him but not too near. You're unsure if he wants you close in this case. You never actually sat next to him without being in chairs. It was kind of strange.

Your stomach is blooming with nervous butterflies again, and your heart is racing at the idea of just being on the bed with him. Atsumu grabs the remote and pulls you out of your daze.

“Any picks?”

“Um... maybe a comedy?” He’s a little taken aback by that choice but then shrugs, a casual smirk returning.

“Comedy it is.”

He picks a random movie, and settles into his spot comfortably. On the other hand, you’re tense in yours, and perhaps a foot or so away from him.

“What are you so nervous lookin' about?" Sumu nudges.

“You’re not gonna bite me?” You joke, and he laughs, easing your anxiety quickly. You make an excuse to shuffle a little closer to him as you move into “comfort” as well.

“Unless you want me to. No," he says jokingly. You quiet, a blush forming. Just like how you sit beside another in the chairs, your knee is nearly touching his, but without a sort of barrier.. this feels almost closer.

The movie starts and you side-eye him, watching as his attention is on the TV. You look away and attempt to mimic. He does the same once you focus ahead, examining you for more than a few before averting. The movie is quick to make you both snicker in your seats. Still, for almost half an hour, you’re struggling to pay attention, you’re just so focused on how he feels next to you. Safe and.. warm.

He leans in a little closer. You fail to notice and yawn. He blinks down at you, moving back. “Tired?”

You mumble “A little bit.”

“Want me to pause it for now?” He waits for your answer and your lips purse. If you say yes he might leave, you can’t waste this moment on tiredness. He’s right, it’s Saturday tomorrow, you can relax all you want then.

“(Y/n).” He calls and you’re still lost in thought.

Suddenly his fingers gently turn your chin, and when you blink back to reality, he’s very close to you. He’s so pretty too.

After a second or two you instantly pull back. “Oh, sorry, yes… you can do that.” He nods and pauses it. For some reason, his expression is a little defeated, but you're not sure why. He stands up and you know where this is going.

“It’s getting late, so.. time for me to go home.” He fakes a stretch and you nod.

“I’ll walk you out.”

Before he leaves you call out to him. “Hey..”

“Let’s finish that movie okay?”

He smiles at that.

Over the next few weeks, the same still repeated. You hung out a little more, but it was nothing too different, just small closeness and intimate lunch moments for 30 minutes. Though lately you find yourself confused and saddened when he refuses to come in. He’s politely said no to your mother nearly all of the time now.

“Does he like me, Mom? What do you think? Why won’t he come in?” You anxiously groan, pressing your hands to your face at the 20th imaginary scenario that plays.

“I’m sure he does sweetie, I just think he needs some time to think about it.” She’s washing the dishes while you groan.

“Think about if he likes me? If he has to think about it, doesn’t that mean he doesn’t?”

“No, that doesn’t mean that.”

“Then what does it mean?”

She sighs a little.

Before you were always quiet about the details, embarrassed even, but now you are so frustrated and scared you just won’t stop talking.

Did you do something wrong? No, you still ate lunch together most of the day. He still walked with you after volleyball, (even if occasionally he’s been making more excuses). So what was it?

Atsumu was more than a little disappointed after that day at your house. He finally made a move, and you were not the slightest bit interested. After all that time together he thought maybe you’d reciprocate, at least a tiny bit. You might’ve still thought of him as a bully which was a sucky thought, even if fair.

He loses focus in practice today, setting a little too high, a little too low, serving into the net, and sometimes missing completely. That was completely new for him, and he had to say, it blew more than he thought.

“Hey,” Osamu points at him. "You set way too high there this time. One more mess up and you owe me."

Atsumu groans loudly.

“Why are you so mopey lately?” Michinari asks.

“He thinks he blew it with his crush,” Osamu answers and his twin nearly kicks him in his side. Shinsuke walks behind them, and the aura alone is enough to make them stop fighting.

Hitoshi gasps as if Atsumu being in love is so uncharacteristic. “You have a crush?!”

Rintaro rolls his eyes. “Just talk to her.”

Aran pats the setter’s shoulder. “Just proclaim your love man, it’s a whole lot better than overthinking.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Shinsuke asks, completely oblivious. “If she doesn’t like you, then it just means you can move on and not have to worry about it anymore.” Although painfully realistic, it strikes something in Atsumu.

His expression shifts and he nods firmly. If you declare you don’t like him, then the ache in his chest will move on and he won’t have to deal with this anxiety anymore.

This was it then, this was going to be the day he asked you.

Practice runs a little later than usual and he makes sure to run out as fast as possible to see you walking kind of mopey. “Hey, (Y/n)!” Atsumu calls to you, making you rotate.

Your eyes instantly lighten, and you grin. “Sumu!”

He returns the smile. “Practice good?” He asks.

“It was good! It was good. I’d say I can teach you some things now.” You lightly jab, poking him.

He scoffs, “Once you finally receive my serve, I’ll think about it.”

His hand mockingly pats your head to measure the height difference, and you pout, face a little pink. The rest of the walk is filled with both of you play-fighting with each other and teasing until you reach your house.

You’re silent, shuffling as to delay the inevitable.

“So.. do you want to come in..?” You ask, a hopeful trail at the end of your word. You’re sure he’s going to say no.

“Yup, I can do that today.”

“That’s o- wait-“ you gasp, “really?!”

He smiles, enamored at your excitement.

“I’m free all night.”

Butterflies are shooting, and you’re secretly hopping as you open the door.

“Welcome ho- oh! Atsumu! It’s been so long, how are you?” Your mother greets.

“Evening miss (L/n), just been busy is all.” Atsumu is politely smiling and you dazzle.

“It happens. Dinner isn’t ready, so you guys can do your work and I’ll call you after.”

You nod, and he does the same before you bolt off to your room.

His heart is probably stammering faster than yours now.

“Want to finish that movie?” You ask gleefully.

He chuckles and answers, "really? No workin' today?"

Seeing it as a rejection, you can’t help but slump in defeat, instantaneously frowning. The scene breaks his heart a little and he rushes to respond with better words before you cut him off.

“No- we can, I just thought- maybe- well.. yeah- never mind. After though?” You’re staring at him with big eyes, and he is smiling sweetly again.

“Unless you have to go after, which is fine, that’s okay.” He shuts you up by placing his hand on your arm, and you blink up at him through your lashes so prettily it makes him hold his breath.

“Yes, that’s fine.”

Quickly nodding, you impatiently sit down at your desk and gesture for him to do the same.

“Listen (Y/n)..” Atsumu has a tone in his voice that sounds serious, maybe scared, and you turn, pursing your lips. A sudden nervousness washes over you.

“Yeah..?”

When he sees your sad expression he zips his lips. “Nothing, never mind.”

“Okay..” you say, unconvinced. He takes a seat next to you, and a blush dusts your cheeks. You really miss this.

Eventually, it becomes comfortable again, and you're pointing to your phrases and looking to him for advice. Truthfully it was sort of an excuse to keep talking to him before he might leave in a few. "Is this good?" You ask.

"Yup." He'd say, and then purposely you'll talk about grammar or other subjects to get him going. But today he wasn't really responsive, he looked tense and felt strange. He was fidgeting, which is never much his thing, and half the time he wasn't working. When you turn to him, his eyes are always lost in thought, contemplating blankly while his pen is unmoving.

You'd occasionally ask, "Are.. you okay Sumu..?"

"Hm? Oh, yea, I'm good." He'd shake himself out of the strange fixation and get back to work like nothing happened.

Your heart falls a little. Maybe he just doesn't want to hang out with you.

"Um.. listen.. (Y/n)." He finally turns to you after a long hour of silence. His tone is more serious again, and you're terrified he's going to say what you hope to not be true. You wait for him to talk, but your patience is thinning as he opens his mouth, closes it, opens, and closes, and you spit out, "Do you want to leave?"

"Wha- no no, it's um.." He clears his throat and he presses his hands together.

"I.. like you (Y/n)."

It takes a second or two before the words sink in, and you're frozen. What?

As in platonic right? Or..

He’s desperately searching for your reaction, waiting to see either reciprocation or disgust. Your mind is rushing for what to think but it's empty. His stomach starts to drop when he doesn’t receive a reply, and he assumes that means denial. His body sinks and the disappointment is clear in his face.

The silence is disturbed by a shaky inhale. You ask, “What… do you mean?”

Atsumu opens his mouth to speak but keeps it slightly agape, his gaze glued to you.

“Like.. love, (Y/n). I love you.”

He's aching to see any clear expression again and your eyes widen in surprise. You feel weightless, there's an explosion in your head and you're unable to think.

"I.." he's holding his breath as you sputter nervously.

"I um.." he's nodding, biting his lower lip and waiting impatiently.

"I.. love you too.."

He's now mimicking your past emotions, and it goes quiet.

You start, "So.. does that mean..um.." you're mumbling now, too anxious to finish the question.

"You'll be my girlfriend?" He asks, and you twinkle up at him. His eyes look so vibrant even in the dim lighting, and his hair falls a little at his face. You move to shyly brush it back, pushing closer to him.

He takes this as a move, and suddenly his lips are pressed into yours. You're frozen for a moment but ease into it quickly. It's like fireworks went off in your brain, and you answer a breathless "Yes," as he pulls away.

“I’m glad..” Atsumu finally lets out a small laugh, and you share in it, your face a fuming pink.

"Do you.. want to finish that movie now?" You shyly ask, and he nods, grinning.

Your bodies are huddled close to each other, his arm wrapped around you. You're leaning into the warmth as the light from the TV flickers. A lingering smile is shared and you turn to him. Your eyes meet and you're already instinctively moving. A kiss is shared again, this time longer and deeper. Your breath hitches when it ends, but you're smiling, and so is he. Hearts softly thumping against one another.

This is finally the peace you wanted.

#fanfic #x reader #angst #fluff x reader #angst with a happy ending #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #miya twins #anime x reader #female reader #bully x reader

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