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arcielee · 10 months

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Farewell Wanderlust

Warnings: As always, MDNI, 18+ past trauma mentioned, sexual themes, unprotected sex, grinding, oral (female receiving), fighting and death, holy ground being disturbed? Pairing: Osferth x OFC Word Count: 5138 Summary: Torn from her home country, Keavy finds herself trying to survive across the Irish sea. She happens across Uhtred and his motley crew, and finds herself befriending a monk who is determined to become a warrior. Author’s Note: I apologize for the delay, irl is being tedious for me, but I very much know how this story will end. We have one more chapter to go! It is still very much a hybrid of the show and the books, with me adding flare as needed to fit the narrative. Anyway, enjoy. 💜 Thank you @theromanticegoist for being my beta reader and offering me a sliver of your insight and talent. Thank you my darling @itbmojojoejo for the gif you took the time to create for me. 💜 Dividers are by @saradika Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @sylas-the-grim @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @tssf-imagines @triscy @whoknows333 @shesjustanothergeek @greenowlfactif @larlarmojo @babyblue711 @fangirlninja67 @tinykryptonitewerewolf @lauftivy @vintageypanwitch @heimtathurs (bold means I was unable to tag you!)

Chapter 6

Keavy awoke to the morning light streaming through the cloth that was pinned over the window, allowing a muted, dawning glow to fill the room. She wiped the haze from her eyes and realized the intimate tangle of bare limbs beneath the furs; her gaze moved from the nightstand, from the candle that burnt to its wick and its wax spill onto the wood, and drifted to Osferth, who was curled at her side.

Her slight movement stirred him and he gave a sleepy groan, his arm reaching to wrap around her waist and pulling her against his torso. Soft laughter spilled from her lips with the tickle of his chest hair, his lips soft against her hairline. “Good morning,” she whispered, craning her neck with a phantom kiss to his jawline.

Osferth hummed, tilting his chin downwards to find her lips. “Good morning, beautiful,” his voice was drowsy and each word punctuated with a gentle kiss.

She burned from his touch, from his words–no man before had called her beautiful, especially not a Saxon man. “Do not tease me, Osferth,” her breath fanned his cheeks and she saw his dimples peeked with his smile.

“I would never,” and he kissed her again.

Keavy smiled against the press of his lips, shifting to spread her legs as he moved closer, cradled against her hips; he hummed his pleasure, careful to place his weight on his arms that were propped on both sides, with a slow rhythm of his hips. She sighed as his hardness pressed between her thighs, the genial rub against the flush of her arousal.

“Osferth,” she gasped, arching against him. “I shall never grow tired of this.”

“Do not tempt me,” his mouth moved along the column of her neck, placing kisses until he came to the junction of her shoulder and nipping softly; she sighed again, her skin raising in response. “I may never allow you to leave.”

But inevitably they would, the begrudging pull from the sex soaked linen and allowing the cool air to nip at their skin. Keavy poured the chilled water from the ewer into the porcelain basin and they were quick to clean and dress; she fetched a small vial and her pecten to comb through her dark locks.

She palmed the rose oil gifted from Gisela, working it into her curls, which allowed the polished bone to glide through to style. Osferth came up behind her, his hands gentle to touch and his fingers threaded through to finish braiding her hair. “A man of many talents,” she teased him, her cheeks crimson with his gesture.

“Of course,” his voice low, his attention focused as he knotted the end. “How else do you believe Sihtric manages his hair?”

Her laughter was lyrical, and he smiled; she reached for his hand, her fingers interlacing with his own, and he pulled her outside. The fallen fresh snow glittered with the sun’s light and their breath was white clouds that rose above them; their hands knitted with a soft swing that synchronized with their slow steps as they made their way towards the great hall.

The doors groaned open and the attention shifted towards them; it was the Irishman who began his cheer, with the rest following. “It’s about fucking time,” and Finan’s smile was bright against his dark beard, while a rose color dusted their features as they took their seats at the table to join them.

Winter settled over, which kept the men in Coccham; Keavy did not mind and enjoyed the new comfort with the new routine. She slowly created space for Osferth within her room, enjoying how his scent lingered over the shared space, especially in the furs and blankets from when they curled beneath them, sharing an intimate warmth as they talked about their days.

Outside of Coccham, the snow billowed high against the walls and isolated the village from the rest of Wessex. The inside thrummed still, with pathways that weaved within, the spirits high from the rich harvest despite the cold. An occasional traveler would wander through, taking a moment by the fire and delivering any letters, one which was addressed to Osferth from Lady Æthelflæd.

That night the great hall was alive with liquored cheer, but her focus remained on Osferth as he stepped away a moment to break the seal. To the untrained eye, it could be considered an eager want to read the letter from his kin, but Keavy saw the brief press of his lips into a thin line and the flicker of worry that knitted between his brows as his eyes flitted over the parchment in hand.

Keavy did not wish to draw any attention, but waited as the night waned away, when they began to file out into the night to find their beds. She reached for his hand and they returned to the privacy of the room they now shared, which was dark with a slight chill. Once the door was closed and candles lit, she felt Osferth press up against her, a pillar of warmth on her backside; she sighed as his arms wrapped around her waist, his face nuzzling beneath her scarf and the soft press of his lips to her skin.

“What news did your sister have for you?” Her hand reached back, her fingers combing through his golden locks towards the back of his head.

Osferth hummed and she felt the curl of his lips into a smile. “You read me as well as her words written.”

She turned in his arms to face him, pressing to her tiptoes for a chaste kiss in response. “With the time I have invested, Osferth, I should hope so,” her brow raised to hint the teasing of her tone. “Do you wish to talk about it?”

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against her own for a moment, slow breaths to intake her fragrance of lavender and thyme, her hint of rose oil in her tresses. Osferth pulled back, taking her hand and moving to sink into the straw mattress.

Keavy followed him, but remained standing between his legs, quiet and watchful as his long, slender fingers that played with her own, his forehead lined as he struggled to find the words. “My father,” he began but it was said as if there was a bitter taste to his tongue. Osferth swallowed and began again. “The king’s health has been failing.”

In the last few years, King Alfred had the reputation for being perpetually ill but without actually dying; Lady Æthelflæd wrote her worry that their father’s luck, or perhaps the favor with his God, was finally coming to an end, or so she believed. “I know he will reach out to Uhtred when winter ends,” and he finally met with her eyes, a glassy shine to his brilliant blue. “Perhaps to ask that Uhtred swear his fealty to Edward.”

She nodded, aware that Æthelflæd was his sister but that Edward was always referred to by his name. “He would never agree to it,” Keavy whispered, one hand coming to touch his jaw. “To swear fealty to a boy would last until the end of his life.”

Osferth nodded and his lashes fluttered closed, leaning into her touch and releasing the hold of her hand; she moved to touch the other side of his face and he reopened his eyes, looking up at her once again.

Before their intimacy finally bloomed between them, she had first become his confidant and, in return, he was her haven embodied. Right now she saw the solemn severity that lined his features, she saw the uncertainty, the weight of the future of Wessex, a burden not belonging and, at the same time, imbedded into his blood.

Her thumb trailed the sharp edge of his jawline. “Let the king call for Uhtred when the snow melts, he will handle him,” and her tone grew coy, “but right now the snow piles high and we must stay warm to survive.”

She leaned forward, another chaste kiss to tease his lips, and his hands moved in response, grabbing her waist and pulling her closer. Keavy grabbed fistfuls of her skirt, rutting the fabric up to straddle him, the soft plush of her thighs caging him to the bed.

His hold moved to cradle her lower back, pulling her against his chest, his head tilting back and pressing his lips to the underside of her jaw. “We must stay warm,” his hot whisper tickled and she tried to pull back with a smile, a giggle, but his grip held and brought her back, capturing her lips with his own.

Keavy moaned and his clever tongue deepen the kiss, as if he was drawing the very breath from her lungs; she wrapped her arms around his neck, leveraging for a slow grind forward against the hardness that pressed through the crotch of his trousers, pulsating from the pressure of her clothed cunt.

Osferth groaned into her mouth and the vibration sent a trickling desire down the length of her spine; his tongue tasted her, his dexterous fingers loosening the ribbons that laced her backside. Their clothing fell to the floor, quick with the cold that seeped in, and he pulled her beneath the layers of their bed, a kiss to the inside of her knee and a trail of open mouth kisses that led to her core.

She sighed with the familiarity of his touch, his lips, and the beginning glints of pleasure sparked before her eyes, leading towards the precipice of her release. A warmth coiled in her lower abdomen as his fingers curled within, one after the other, and she moaned with his ministrations that pushed her over the edge, her blossomed release that spread and pressed the very seams of her being.

Osferth followed through its completion with the sinful squelch of her cunt pulsating around his fingers, almost to that brink of overstimulation, before he withdrew and carefully climbed on top of her. She was breathless and beautifully flushed from her climax, a soft mewl spilled when she felt his length press against, heavy and warm and wanting.

Keavy combed her fingers through his hair, pulling him close for a kiss and savoring her taste on his tongue, while her thighs wrapped around his slender waist. She sighed sweetly as he molded to her curves, the weight of him and the tickle of his chest hair against her bare skin.

His arm reached between, lining himself with her entrance; Keavy moaned when he pushed in, his head dipping into the curve of her neck with his own low groan from how her velvet walls clenched in response. Osferth waited a moment, allowing her the time still needed to adjust to his size, and he only moved when she found his mouth with a hungry kiss to urge him.

The gentle thrusts of his hips began to rekindle the flames licking her bones, the curtails of her prior release still tingling throughout; the crushing closeness, the tickle of his hot breath against her skin and his pace quickened with the flutter of her walls; there is a tandem of their release, the sounds of her sighs and his guttural groan that reverberates through them both.

Every moment spared would be this entanglement of limbs, curling into one another flushed from their climax and until their breaths were an exchange. Eventually, the snow began to thaw and the spring greenery struggled through the cold mush left behind. The earth warmed still and Osferth’s prediction of a letter from the king did not come until the midsummer months.

They packed to travel to Wintanceaster as commanded or as asked, depending if you spoke with the Lord or Lady of Coccham.

Gisela complained with good nature and grace, swollen with the life that grew within her. She sighed her complaints of her size as Uhtred took her hand, careful to guide her steps towards the cart. “It will not be able to hold me,” she smiled with her words.

Uhtred kissed her hand, his other arm wrapping around to lift her inside. “If the wheels split, I will carry you myself,” and his eyes glittered as he teased her, pressing forward to steal another kiss before moving back towards his horse.

Gisela shook her head, her lips pursed into another smile, and her gaze fell to both Keavy and Osferth, with him helping her to mount her horse. “This will be your fate one day,” she called to them, smiling still and raising one brow. “And I will be the one on horseback!”

Keavy flushed from her words, unable to look at Osferth, unable to stop the curl of her lips into a smile from Gisela’s teasing.

Their time together in the last few months had been everything she always hoped for, but she could not help the flutter of apprehension that it would never be more. The thought knotted in her chest late at night when Osferth would curl against her backside, the warmth of his palm on her stomach, but she found it was the one thing she could not say outloud to him.

She confided in the great hall where Hild began to speak scriptures and Gisela waved her off, seated with her swollen ankles propped up. “Away with your Ephesians, Hild. Do not listen to that nun,” she said to Keavy and her dark eyes glittered. “Is he good to you?”

Osferth was and so much more. He showed consideration for her in his every action, something that was without effort and just seemed natural for him: from how he filled his plate to share with her, how he took her hand to lead their steps together, with how his eyes brightened, alert, always aware of their surroundings as if he would do anything to keep her safe. She loved their time together, at the end of the day when he would curl into her, the soft trail of his fingers along the length of her spine and back, or how they would comb through her dark curls with gentle kisses along her hairline.

She was crimson when she finally answered. “He is very good to me.”

“Then that is enough,” and her tone clipped with a sense of finality, and Keavy tried her best to tuck the thought away.

But it still lingered; she was aware of his bloodline, of the royalty that ran through his veins that was stronger than the sins of King Alfred. Keavy assumed the day would come when he would want a wife of his equal, a true Saxon lady of reputation and not some marred, cursed cailín from across the Irish sea.

“Marriage is only a title, a status, an exchange of goods when had,” Gisela argued. “I see how he is with you and it is the actions of a man that speaks of his character.”

This was now the thought that she clung to.

It was then that Finan barked to the caravan prepared, reclaiming her attention, and they made their way towards Wintanceaster.

+ + + +

They had barely arrived when the king called Uhtred away, leaving the rest to settle into the home of the priest and his wife, Thyra; she held the same fierceness as her kin, Uhtred, but had a softer deliverance with it, instilled with the bold blue of her eyes.

Their home was comfortable with a rich fragrance from the supper prepared over the open flame; the children played amongst themselves, with Sihtric’s son alongside Oswald and Stiorra, and the men made their round trips to the alehouse to refill their cups, their spirits high. They crowded around the table to eat and with the shortage of seats, only then did Osferth pull Keavy into his lap, relishing in the sight of color that tinged her cheeks.

Uhtred returned, soured with the news they were to sunder tomorrow, heading towards the Burh of Aescengum on his advice that the king sought from him. “Unfortunate this is the one time he listens to you, lord,” Finan teased him, but he could only manage a grim smile in return.

The following morning, the stables were cluttered as the wives came to bid their farewells, with Keavy among them. Osferth curled his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back, pressing his lips against her own with his promise, “I will return to you.”

Her smile was forced, but her eyes were bright from the kiss.

The sun shone overhead and moved behind them as they went eastwards, the city of Wintanceaster shrinking away. A comfortable silence settled over with the ambling gait of their horses, until Uhtred decided to break it. “I believe it is time you take a wife,” he began, his lips curling as if he was aware of something already. “It is time that you got married.”

There was a low chorus of chuckles from Sihtric and Finan behind them. “I have thought of it,” Osferth admitted.

This was a thought that reverberated within him, something that rattled his bones whenever he was in proximity of Keavy, something ignited with her touch, with her lilt. It followed him, heavy in the air that surrounded them and it mixed with the sickly sweet scent of sex and sweat above their bed shared; his throat was thick with his want to whisper the words: my sweet wife.

But also was the thought that he was a bastard and the curse bond with it. The holy book of Dueteronomy taught how this curse would follow for ten generations because of his illegitimacy. As a boy, he did not mind it, but as he matured, he now found that it clawed at his heart from the moment he had kissed Keavy.

Osferth knew then that he loved her, and that perhaps he always had, as it gradually blossomed more over the years. He enjoyed the sharpness of her emerald eyes, how well she fit into his embrace and he would bury his face into her dark curls. Most of all, he admired her strength and her resilience; Keavy had been shy and hesitant to share the cruelty that destiny littered her path on the way to him; the thought that his curse could possibly add more suffering to it pained him, especially when she already survived so much.

Uhtred raised his brow. “Just thought?”

“Usque ad decimam generationem,” the Latin spilled from his lips and he continued, “I could not… my children would be cursed, their children too, and every child for ten generations.”

Osferth tried to avoid this pending biblical curse that clung overhead, but too often he would be cuntdrunk, with the taste of her lips too enticing and the sinfully sweet clutch of her velvet walls all too consuming. It was only when the post-coital haze wore off that the thought would return: bastard begot bastard, his curse continuing.

“So every bastard is doomed?”

Osferth hummed, his eyes forward. “I do not see the king taking ownership for his… mistakes.”

There was another chortle of laughter and Osferth only hummed again. Ahead of them was the low smoldering glow of the ruined village of Alton, the remains of a guarded church coming to view when Uhtred called to him. “Let us ask your God what else can be done.”

But God had seemed to abandon the parish and instead they found a woman of many names: a seer, a witch, the devil reincarnate. Sihtric moaned of the curse that followed with her capture, voicing his concerns until it was palpable and heavy overhead. Only Finan was bold enough to say, “Do not speak of it, it only gives it strength,” and it was left alone, but lingered on the edge of their minds.

The Battle of Farnham, as it would be remembered, was a slaughter of Danes and their victory was sung throughout Wessex, following their return to the city. It was surreal with the echo of bells off of the Roman structures that were still rooted throughout the city, the swarm of the crowd and their cheers for King Alfred and his men, for their victory and safe return.

Osferth peered through, his eyes sharp for Keavy, or even Gisela, but instead he spotted the nun Hild; he saw how her face was drawn with grief and the nursemaid in her shadow, holding a bundle to her chest. Before he could say a word, Uhtred quickly dismounted and pushed through towards her; Osferth instead swung his leg over, following after Beocca back to his home, relief washing over when he saw Keavy seated inside with Stiorra and Oswald.

The priest moved to kiss his wife and Keavy pushed to her feet, enveloping in Osferth’s arms; he pulled back to kiss her, finding her cheeks stained with tears that confirmed the news plainly written in Hild’s expression outside.

Gisela was gone. “I could not save her,” she whispered hoarsely and he pulled her close again, a soft kiss on her hairline.

With the summer months waning away, the night came with its chill and its sorrow. Osferth took Keavy’s hand and they moved outside the city walls, towards the holy ground where Gisela had been buried; Hild breathed a quick prayer and the men grabbed their shovels, upturning the fresh grave.

Uhtred watched as the flames licked up the sides of the lumber stacked, the poignant smell of death masked by the smoke that curled up into the silver light of the moon. “It is beautiful,” and Hild wet her lips, her voice a reverent whisper amongst the splintered pops of wood. “It is as though she is drifting away from the earth and upwards towards the heavens.”

The amber glow of the funeral pyre cast its golden dysphoria over him, his cheeks shone with his tears and he wilted with wracking sobs that echoed emptily against the trees. Osferth moved to his side and Finan quickly to the other, a strong hold of their lord, with their whispered words of comfort offered to him.

“Death is unavoidable, it is a part of life,” he rasped, his palmed gripped Osferth and his glassy eyes locked onto him. “It is inevitable, but love is not and you must always take the moment when it is offered.”

As their attention returned to the blaze, Osferth dared peer back to see Keavy. She held onto the hand offered by Hild, pale in the moonlight and her features tight with her grief aflare, reflecting her tear streaked cheeks, and he had the intrusive thought.

She is lovely still.

Uhtred’s words was something repeated in his mind as they retreated back inside the city, returning to their beds; it was a soft echo still in his mind as he pulled her flush against his chest, something that resonated when he felt the gentle press of her lips to the underside of his jaw, nestling into his embrace. Osferth held her close throughout the night, his fingers tangled in her dark curls and his other hand rested on her hip, the soft expansion with her every breath eventually lulling him to sleep.

The lamenting lessened in the days that followed. Though the grief remained, there was room for a sense of clarity, for Uhtred to announce they were leaving Wintanceaster at once. Osferth saw how he was haunted with Gisela, how the city now served a reminder of his love that was lost.

He knew this would follow them back to Coccham and he thought back to that summer day years before, when he first came to swear his sword to Uhtred and what he promised, his words–“You may never see Wessex again,”–but still they remained, tethered by the oath to the king.

Osferth only truly understood his sister’s words when he saw their father at Aescengum; he almost did not recognize the cadaverous man had it not been for his crown, his regalia that hung from his thin frame. The dark force that escorted him from Wintanceaster was now grey in his complexion, with silver streaks in his hair and beard, a brittle man that a strong gust could have swept away.

He also thought of what else she wrote, how she encouraged him to come to her estate, to come to Mercia; her letters tempted him to go, to take Keavy and to travel North.

But instead he stayed, now spurred with the unspoken exigency to ready the horses, to leave the city at once, and it was interrupted when Beocca called for Uhtred, stating the king called for him again. They watched him leave before continuing, with an unease that lingered behind.

Later, Osferth first spotted his return, his grief partnered with a fervor as he called to him, to Finan and Sihtric. The city thrummed, holy ground has been disturbed, and soon the king’s guard arrived, but the men of Coccham were already standing guard, with a palpable choler that solidified their stance.

In that moment, his sister’s words returned. “We need to get them out,” his voice was low, whispered to Sihtric; Finan continued to needle Steapa and his men, bold as always. The Dane quirked his brow at Osferth. “The children, your wife and son,” he continued, before adding, “and Keavy.”

Sihtric steeled his jaw, a sharp nod to acknowledge his words. “You have a plan, baby monk,” but it was not a question, more a statement.

Osferth hummed, his eyes locking onto Hild as she pressed through the men, a beacon for peace and her tongue chastising them all.

“You were goading him,” she hissed to Finan as she moved past him.

The Irishman raised his brows in response. “I was, Hild. And enjoying it.”

“So the abbess may enter, but I may not?” Steapa sounded incredulous and Osferth took the moment, a quick nod to Sihtric, before falling behind in her steps.

Finan squared off, just as bold. “We’re afraid of the abbess.”

Osferth slipped behind Hild, leaving the nun to have her scathing exchange with the kept witch while he moved towards Keavy. She was seated by the bed, the children tucked away as she ushered soft tones to soothe them.

He thought back to their days together in Coccham, their rosy-cheek smiles now hallowed with the somber undertone that clung to their small frames. Osferth felt the loss of Gisela, as she was kind to him, but understood that the children felt it tenfold.

“We need to leave the city,” he murmured low enough for her to hear; Keavy looked to him, her lips parted to ask but his low timbre continued, cutting through the tension of the room. “Lord, we need to get the children and women out of the city.”

The focus turned towards them. “I cannot have them return to Coccham,” Uhtred began, his tone wry. “That land belongs to the king and I am not in his favor.”

“I am aware,” and he paused, a look stolen to take in Keavy, his gaze trailing the severity that lined her face and spilled into the scar along her jaw. Osferth then looked back at Uhtred. “We should send them to Saltwic, lord.” From the corner of his vision he saw Keavy stiffen, how her green eyes darkened and pinned him where he stood, but he did not look away from Uhtred. “My sister will never forget what you have done for her and I know she will be the sanctuary needed,” his tongue wet his lips, “I agree with Hild. You should call for Beocca and hear the demands of the king to serve as a distraction.”

Uhtred nodded, his focus returning to Hild. “I am willing, but in exchange for the safety of our children, for our women,” and she watched him, her eyes flitting back and forth his face. “I worry about getting them out of the city.”

Osferth now looked to Keavy, but her attention was rapt, her grip tightened on the handle of the seax that hung at her side. “I will protect them, lord,” Keavy stepped forward, a slight tremor to her tone. “I swear it on Lady Gisela.”

“I will also go with them, Uhtred,” Hild sighed. “I will first tell Beocca that you are ready to listen and then I will see that they are escorted to Saltwic.”

Uhtred offered a small smile and Hild was gone; Beocca was quick to arrive with the demands of the king, which called for silver and his vow to the aetheling. Uhtred pushed to stand, following Beocca out into the night, pausing to hand his sword, Serpent-Breath, to Finan and his eyes landed onto Osferth.

“You know what to do.”

Time slipped through their fingers with this newfound urgency, licking their heels to quick their steps to the stables the moment the guard shifted to follow Uhtred and Steapa. The sleepy haze was wiped from the children’s eyes by the hem of Hild’s sleeve, the hushed tears and kisses exchanged between Sihtric and his wife, Sigdeflaed, while Finan saddled the last mare.

Osferth felt the slight tremble of her hold and looked down at Keavy, her eyes watchful, almost doleful. “You will be safe in Saltwic,” he whispered in the shell of her ear as he pulled her close. “This is for the best, this will keep you safe.”

She pulled back, her brow furrowed with her sharp nod, her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed the threat of tears. “I know this, I understand this is the logical thing to do and yet…” and she took a deep breath, her hands moving to untie her necklace. “Osferth, I want you to take this and for you to bring it back to me.”

He leaned forward and his skin prickled with her touch as she knotted it behind the nape of his neck; the silver cross gleamed in the little light offered. “Return to me, Osferth,” her voice was small.

He pressed closer and captured her lips, her honeyed kiss a balm for his resolve. Osferth moved to help her onto the backside, then he picked up Stiorra who nestled in front–one child for each rider. His hand then fell to touch Keavy’s ankle, sliding up beneath her skirts and he gently squeezed her calf; she looked down at him. “I will return to you,” he promised.

Her response was a pained smile, another quick nod, and she brought her heels against to trot behind Hild and Sigdeflaed. Osferth followed behind until they passed through the gates, and remained until they were silhouettes in the night.

Finan clasped his hand onto his shoulder and Osferth looked at the Irishman. “We will see them again. Soon, baby monk,” he promised. “Now help with the gate.”

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#the last kingdom #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom fanfiction #osferth #osferth fanfic #osferth fanfiction #osferth x ofc #we need more osferth fanfic #slow burn #farewell wanderlust

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and-claudia · 11 months

Text

His Heir pt. 38 (Darth Maul x pregnant! reader)

Word Count 1679 (sorry it's shorter than usual)

Warnings: angst

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gif not mine

Once I was off-world and on my way to the jump point to get to Bavis where Dasar lived the first thing I did was contact him. The moment he answered I was sobbing. I was trying and struggling to tell him what was wrong.

“Okay, babes, I can’t understand you right now. Look at me,” He waited patiently for me to calm down enough to focus on him, “Good, now deep breath.”

I mimicked his deep breaths until I was able to speak clearly, tears were still falling and I was sniffling and hiccuping through it all but I was finally able to tell him what was wrong.

“He’s not coming.”

“Who, Maul?”

I nodded.

“Why, what happened?”

“He’s just too busy… too busy to come home at night, too busy to spend time with me, too busy to come to my doctor's appointment, and too busy to come to the wedding. I’m sorry.”

He immediately shook his head, “Sweetheart, this is not your mess to apologize for. He’s being a complete ass. I could care less about him coming to the wedding, to tell you the truth he’s only invited because of who he is and because I couldn’t invite you and not him. But this bull shit of being too busy for you is not acceptable. You are literally carrying his son and he has the audacity to blow you off. You get here and we’ll take care of you, okay babes?”

I nodded and sighed as the alert to make the jump began going off.

“Hold on.” I mumbled, leaning forward to hit a few buttons before the blue lights of hyperspace filled the cabin of my ship.

I sighed as I leaned back in the seat and placed my hands on top of my belly.

“Is he giving you a hard time?” He asked, trying to get me to focus on something else.

“Yeah, but it's not really his fault. He went through a growth spurt, his last one supposedly before he was born, so my body is really just trying to catch up. I knew it was coming but I was hoping it wouldn’t happen until after your wedding.”

“Well don’t worry about the dress I have yours set aside and already have plans to make some alterations if needed.” He said.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course!”

“I think I’m going to go lay down for a bit. I have,” I glanced over the dashboard in front of me, “roughly 6 hours before I get there.”

“Oh, that’s perfect! I wanted to take you out on one of the boats, I know you’ve never seen an ocean so I wanted to show you ours here.”

I smiled at that, at least I’d have something to look forward to.

“That sounds fun. I can’t wait. I’ll talk to you later.”

He said his goodbyes before hanging up. I pushed myself up out of the chair and began making my way to the sleeping quarters on my ship. Before I settled down in the bed I set up all the alarms I would need and made sure they would be loud enough for me to hear if need be.

“Come on, kih ik'aad, let’s get some rest. It’s just us two again, but I’m sure we’re used to that by now.”

Dasar PoV

The moment I hung up with Yn I was calling Maul. He was about to get a piece of my mind.

“What?!” He yelled answering the phone.

“Uh Ah, you are not gonna yell at me like that. What you are going to do is tell me what the fuck you did to my best friend.” I snapped back.

“Need I remind you who you are speaking to?” He all but growled at me.

“Yeah, I do, actually. And it ain’t Lord Maul of Crimson Dawn. It’s the man who hurt my best friend, made her cry, and is about to get his ass beat if he doesn’t tell me what the fuck happened. She already told me but I want to hear it from your perspective. So start talking.”

I wasn’t about to let him intimidate me into backing down. I would go to hell and back for Yn, she is my ride or die.

“I guess I’ve been preoccupied with work lat-”

“Wrong.” I cut him off, “She is carrying your baby right now. Not only that but you’ve said it yourself this is a difficult pregnancy, especially for a human. She did this voluntarily, she wanted to do this for you. So right now, ruling Crimson Dawn is a said gig, your full-time job is being there for her and supporting her. And you failed her on that.”

He hung his head at my last sentence.

“I know.” He sounded so ashamed of himself.

“She called me sobbing. Not crying Maul, sobbing. I can count on one hand the times I’ve seen her cry. I’ve never seen her hurting that badly.”

“Is she okay now though?” He asked quietly.

“If you mean has she stopped crying then yes, but she is not okay Maul. You fucked up big time.”

He almost winced at that, knowing what he had done wrong. There was a few beats of silence as he took in and truly processed what he had done.

“How do I fix it?” He pleaded.

“How soon can you leave Dathomir?”

“They are preparing my ship but it needed to be refueled before they began the preflight checks. So maybe another hour.” “That would put you nearly 3 hours behind her…” I stayed silent as I thought about what he could do.

“I know she was really looking forward to watching the sunset on the beach…”

“Okay, that’s a good start… We’re taking her out tomorrow to see the coral reef just off the island. We will push back when we go, we will get back to the private cove right before sunset and you will be there waiting for her. I will have the kitchens prepare you a picnic dinner. You sit on that beach and tell how fucking stupid you were, how much you love her and you vow to her that this will never happen again. Seriously if you hurt her again, I will end you.”

Maul nodded, with his head still hung.

“I need to finish packing.”

“Good. I’ll make sure she’s okay when she gets here.” I said.

“Thank you, Dasar.”

I was taken aback, Maul had never said thank you like that to me before. It was sincere, and I could tell he truly meant it and wasn’t just saying it because it was what needed to be said.

I nodded before ending the call.

Yn’s PoV

I was impressed and grateful that I managed to get a solid four hours of sleep before my approach warnings were going off. You weren’t allowed to jump through the Atune System where Bavis was because there was a heavy asteroid belt that surrounded the outside of it and any ships that tried to make the jump through got damaged… or worse.

“Alright, kih ik'aad, time to get up.” I said before not so gracefully getting out of the bed.

After a good stretch and pop of my back, I shuffled into the cockpit to fly me to Bavis. Unfortunately for me, Bavis was still a good distance away from the edge of the system and it would still take me a bit to get to the actual planet. But I was able to put in the coordinates and let autopilot take over. As I approached the outer atmosphere I took over flying and contacted their commands room channel to alert them of my approach.

“This is Lady Yn requisition clearance to land.” I said.

“Hey, babes, so I moved my ship out of Bay One so you can land there. I didn’t want you to have to walk super far to get to the transport to the palace.”

I was surprised to hear Dasar’s voice come through the coms.

“Dasar, you didn’t have to do that. Also, it’s so late please tell me you didn’t stay up this late just for me.” I said as I began to steer the ship in the right direction.

“Okay, I won’t tell you that then.” He joked, “I’ll come meet you in the hangar. Don’t worry about luggage, I’ll have the droids come to get it for you.”

“Okay.” I said as I landed.

I looked down at my current attire, I was still in what I had slept in. One of Maul’s old tunics that wasn’t a deep v-neck and a pair of sleep shorts that were hardly appropriate for someone of my ranking to be wearing out and about.

Once the ship was landed and shut off I got up and went to open the ramp. After it was lowered, Dasar was already climbing it to meet me.

“Hi, dear.”

I smiled as he came and gave me a hug.

“Damn you weren’t kidding, he’s huge.” He teased.

“Thanks.” I rolled my eyes playfully.

“Hey, I said he, not you.” He defended himself.

“Do I need to change? Like is anyone really going to be up right now and see me?”

“Nope.” He shook his head.

“Awesome. I really didn’t want to, I’m too comfortable to.” “Well, that’s great because we’re not going back to bed just yet.”

“We’re not?” I asked as he hooked his arm with mine and walked me down the ramp.

“Nope… I figured we haven’t had a night to catch up just you and me in a while. And with me getting married and you having the baby soon we probably won’t get a chance to for a good while. So that’s what we’re doing tonight. You, me, a bad holo romcom, snacks, and yes I have chocolate, talking shit, or not, up to you,” He gave me a not-so-subtle wink, “What do you say?”

“That sounds like it is exactly what I need.” I smiled at him.

@bluusugar @happyheartsss @clairebear1621 @rljart @xxxqueenlaufeysonxxxxo @lilallybug @ghoulishjester @kizzyxren @welcometothepedroverse @kaos-bringer @asxrum @kittenlover614 @kugelblubb90 @qweenrogerina @pedropcl

@kbarnes-2001

@lunanightguard @moonsua1

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#star wars #starwars #darth maul x reader #darth maul #darth maul imagine #darth maul fanfic #darth maul smut #darth maul x pregnant reader #darth maul x fem reader #darth maul x reader smut #darth maul x you #lord maul #maul #maul x reader smut #maul x reader

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and-claudias-world · 1 year

Text

His Heir pt. 35 (Darth Maul x pregnant! reader)

Warnings: Smut, PinV, dirty talk

Word Count: 1643

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gif not mine

“You know you’re about to pay for this little stunt, you know that right?”

I faked a yawn and stretched, “I don’t know. I am quite tired. I don’t think I’d last very long once we walk back to your quarters.”

I was just trying to rile him up some more.

“Who said anything about waiting until we got back?” He asked, not missing a beat.

“Maul, we cannot have sex in here.” I said, now regretting my earlier comment about being too tired.

“Who said? Last time I checked I was the ruler of Crimson Dawn, I can do as I please.” He said, leaning in close.

I swallowed hard as his scent surrounded me. Subconsciously my head tilted over to give him more access to my neck that he had begun kissing, leaving soft bite marks along the way.

“You may say you don’t want to have sex in here, but your body is saying otherwise, darling.” He mumbled between kisses.

I pushed him away and turned to face him.

“I never said I didn’t want to… I said we shouldn’t… but fuck it.”

I grabbed him by the opening of his suit jacket and pulled him forward to kiss him passionately. My hands traveled up his chest, then over his shoulders and behind his neck. His hands went down to the edge of my seat and pulled me forward. We were so close now that he had to open his legs, to give mine space since he had pulled me so close.

Almost immediately his hands began to wonder. They ran over my thighs, up my sides, and to my breast. The way he was gently massaging them made me moan against his lips. It was pure bliss. However, I only allowed myself to get so caught up in the kiss as I thought about the logistics of how this was going to work.

“Maul, have you thought this through?” I asked, pulling away.

“Hm?” He cocked his head slightly.

“Have you thought about how we're going to actually have sex in here? You know if you remember but I’m measuring at 26 weeks right now. I mean, my belly isn’t small. Stradling you while you sit, definitely isn’t going to work.” I explained.

“You lack creativity, my dear.” He teased, smirking.

Then without taking his eyes off of me, he raised his hand and used the force to throw everything that was on one of the nearby tables off of it. Glass and plates went flying across the floor but landed far away from us. I watched with wide eyes as it all happened.

“Shall we?” He asked, pushing himself back some before standing up and offering me his hand.

I took his hand and allowed him to lead me over to the table. He helped me sit up on it. He stood between my legs and brought his lips to mine once again. His hands began roaming once again. The anticipation of what was coming was killing me. His kisses began to travel away from my lips and down to the side of my neck that he couldn’t reach earlier so he could give it the same treatment he did the other.

While I was distracted by his mouth’s attack on my neck Maul began to bunch my dress back up, giving him much better access to my pussy. But once I realized what was happening I reached forward to undo his belt.

“So impatient.” He teased, pulling away from my neck and retracting his hands from my body.

He undid his belt and his pants, pulling them down just enough for his hard cock to be freed from it confines it was currently pitching a tent in. He took it in one hand and pumped it a few times.

“Fuck.” I mummed as I watched him.

“Do you like what you see?” He asked, a cocky grin on his lips.

“You know I do. Now are you going to stand there and fuck your hand? Or are you going to come over here and fuck me?” I asked, looking back up at his face.

I could tell he was taken aback slightly by my words, but the shock lasted momentarily before it was replaced with a sly smile.

“There’s that fucking attitude again.” He said, leaning in to give me another kiss.

When he pulled back he lined himself up at my entrance before glancing up at me. I laid back and propped myself up on my elbows before giving him a slight nod. He gently slid into me. The moan I let out, echoed off the walls of the hall and cut me off, causing him to stop midway in.

“Don’t stop. Everyone is gone. And if they aren’t, let them hear how good I make you feel.” He said.

I gave him another nod and he continued to push into me. He paused for a moment letting us both get used to the feeling before he pulled back and began to set a steady pace of thrusting in and out of me. He had one hand on my hip the other grabbed my thigh, hooking my leg over his waist. So when I felt something putting pressure on and rubbing my clit I knew he was using the force again.

His pace wasn’t super fast or slow, but I wasn’t going to lie, this wasn’t the pace you used when you were having sex somewhere you weren’t supposed to. I didn’t mean for my comment to come out as sassy as it did, but I was speaking before I really had the chance to think.

“Maul, I said fuck me, not make love.”

He halted all movement. Even the pressure on my clit disappeared as he stared down at me with wide eyes.

“Excuse me?” He asked.

I couldn’t back down now, I was too far gone, “You heard me, fuck me like you mean it, Maul.”

“You’re going to regret that, darling.” He said, his tone dark and his eyes filled with lust.

When he began moving again, his pace was much fast and his thrusts were much harder. Even if I wanted to keep my moans down, there was no way I would be able to at this point. Not that I was complaining. Even the pace of the circles on my clit sped up.

He was sending me, soaring toward my climax and there was nothing I could do but take it. My moans and his grunts mixed together in the most beautifully erotic symphony of sounds I had ever heard before and echoed off the walls of the ballroom.

My orgasm came hard. I wasn’t even able to give him much of a warning before my walls were clamped down around his cock. He tried to fuck me through it but his thrust became sloppy and he was cumming as my orgasm was dropping off. I was laying there, breathless, eyes half closed as I caught my breath.

“Shit.” I sighed.

“You asked for that, dear.” Maul said, teasing.

He was still buried, balls deep inside of me when a voice coming from the top of the stairs made both of us jolt slightly, and turned to see who it was.

“Can one of you two bring me my datapad when you’re done?” He called out.

I glanced to my left, and sure enough, on the table beside us sat his datapad.

“Dasar, get out!” I yelled.

He threw his hands up in surrender, “I’ll just get it later…” He turned around but stopped in the doorway, “That dress is dry clean only, just saying!”

We both watched as he left, the door closing behind him. Then we both slowly turned to look back at each other. Neither one of us could hold a straight face as we both began laughing. Maul pulled out of me, still laughing as he tucked himself back into his pants before helping me sit back up and fix my dress.

“How long do you think he was there?” Maul asked.

“I think it is better that we don’t know… I am never going to live this down.” I said, dropping my face into my hands.

“It is quite funny though.” Maul said.

I looked up at him and shook my head, laughing despite myself. He helped me down from the table and steadied me on my feet. I walked over and grabbed the stupid datapad before hooking my arm with Maul’s to let him lead me out of the ballroom. I was quite tired from both the party and what we had just done, but we had to get back to his quarters. I was leaning into Maul as we walked. We stopped briefly at Dasar’s guest quarters and gave him his datapad back.

“You two kids have fun, but not too much… wait, maybe a little late for that.” He teased after he took it. I buried my face into Maul’s shoulder as he bid him goodnight.

“Come on, love, let’s get you cleaned up and to bed.” Maul said once the door was closed.

We took our time walking back, stopping once for Maul to help me out of my shoes that had begun to hurt my feet. He was now carrying them for me as I leaned into him even more, my eyes fighting to stay open. When made it to his quarters he helped me out of my dress and brought me to the refresher where he helped me clean up where both of our releases were running down my thighs. Then once that was done, he helped me put on one of his shirts before leading me to bed. Once he was beside me, I snuggled in close and it didn’t take me long to fall asleep in his arms.

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@fan-g0rl @mxkyrie @onceuponanightmareisawme @lothiriel9 @wordsfromshona @kgbtardis @wondermia69 @mh073099 @ktrivia @fifithexeno @perseny @justalittletomato @pomiotszatana @ameliachastain @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @its-me-meg @kbarnes-2001@bluusugar @happyheartsss @clairebear1621 @rljart @xxxqueenlaufeysonxxxxo @lilallybug @ghoulishjester @kizzyxren @welcometothepedroverse @kaos-bringer @asxrum @kittenlover614 @kugelblubb90 @qweenrogerina @pedropcl

#darth maul #star wars #darth maul x pregnant reader #darth maul imagine #darth maul smut #darth maul x reader #darth maul x fem reader #maul x reader smut #maul x pregnant reader #maul x reader #maul x fem! reader

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itsthestutterforme · 2 years

Text

Give a Chance (Finn Shelby x reader)

Summary: Y/N is the delegate from a business partner of Tommy Shelby. Finn has a massive crush on her. She was invited to Tommy's wedding, she brought her gay best friend, River, with her. River helps Finn get a chance with her.

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, sexual themes (p in v penetration, oral sex), 18+ ONLY

"Oo, please tell a poor commoner what the Y/N does on the weekend? Or should I say who?" River says as he waits for you against the wall to open the door.

Your older brother is a business partner of Thomas Shelby, and are his VP. So you set everything up in the morning, arrange meetings, organize the books and close everything back up in the morning.

Last night you went to Tommy's wedding to Grace. Your brother wasn't able to come so you insisted that you went on his behalf with River's company.

The night was rather eventful. River went off to flirt with some Irish stable boy. But before, he said that Tommy's younger brother, Finn, hasn't kept his eyes off you since you entered.

He said to give him a chance and you did. The party lasted until dawn and you were there for the majority of it. Though you don't remember half of it. Everything after Finn ate you out against the door became a blur. He then took you to his flat and did everything under sun until the sun came up.

You slept for about an hour before doing the walk of shame to the business where you had an extra pair of clothes.

"Shut up, River." You say, laughing when you saw his face. You unlock the door and lock it after you and River walked in."Damn, he really did a number on you. Didn't he? Did you at least have fun?" "I did,"

You walk into your office and pull out your bag of spare clothes. Taking off your dress, you tell River, "Get me a wet rag please." "Ah, seems like you've done this before. You whore." He teases. "Oh shut it," "I'll be back with the rag." He leaves the room and you hear a knock on the entrance door.

"We're not open for another hour," you yell out. "It's Finn," your eyes widen and you bolt to the door. Pulling him inside, you slam and lock the door again.

"What, are you crazy? If my brother catches you, he would hang you from your balls." His eyes fell to your unclothed body and you slap his cheek.

"My eyes are up here," "What are you doing here, Finn?" "You left your purse at my place," "What?" You looked in his hands and surely enough, it was your purse.

"How did I.." "Seems like you were in a rush to leave." "Here you- oh wow. Pussy whipped already, I see." River says, setting the wet rag on the table.

"River!" Embarrassment burned at your cheeks when you sent him a glare. "Thank you for giving the purse back." You tell Finn. "When can I see you again?" "Oh boy,"

"River, I swear to God." "Finn, I don't think that's a good idea." "Why not?" He asks, you sigh when you noticed he was genuinely concerned.

"Are you free tomorrow?" "Yes, I am. I'll order dinner for tomorrow then." Before you could even react, he pecks your lips and walks out the door like nothing ever happened. You stood there with your mouth gaped open in shock.

"Oh you're his now, baby doll." You look to him with the same shocked expression. "Now go get changed before your brother sees you. You know how uptight he is."

Finn bursts into your flat like he owned the place. You nearly choke on your steak when he did so. "Is it true?" He asked, his eyes narrowing angrily as crimson kissed his cheeks.

"What are you going on about?" "I heard that you were to be wedded to some ancient man and that you were meeting him today."

"How on Earth did you hear about that?" "So it is true. Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you going to wait until after you were married?" "Its just a meeting,"

"You're not meeting him," "That's not your choice to make. This is about settling a feud between families. Like your brother John did when he married Esme."

"I don't care." "Finn," you start. "No, you're mine." "I am no one's," you stand from your chair and walked until your chest was touching his. "I am my own person. I don't belong to anyone but me." "You were the one that didn't want to go public," he states.

"Because you didn't see what we have as serious." "Of course I see it as serious," "The amount of fights we get into over the smallest things goes to show that we're not good for each other. This can't go long term."

"You're the longest person I've been with, Y/N." "Not consecutively. You call things off, you come back days later. I call things off, I come back days later. It's like we can't ever leave it each alone. It isn't healthy."

"So you're willing to marry some random old man because of that? No, fuck that. If I see him in the street, I'll cut him." "And start another feud?" "No one fucks with what's mine."

"I'm not yours!" "Oh really! Has anyone flirted with you or even looked at you since we've been together? Huh, have they?"

"Fuck off, Finn." He staggered backwards as you pushed him. "You're mad because I'm right," you sat down and tried to take another bite of your steak when Finn pushes the plate away from you. "You're treading on thin fucking ice, Finn She-"

He cuts you off with a kiss and cupped your cheeks to deepen the kiss. "I'm still meeting him today. He at least deserves a chance," you pull away from his lips. "What? You meet him today?" "Tonight over dinner," "Where?"

He grabs your chin when you hesitate and you slap his hand away. "Where are you having dinner? I'll find out either way. It's best if you tell me now." "Why? So you and Isiah can terrorize us? No, fuck off." "You're really starting to piss me off, you know that?"

"Yeah, well I'm glad you know how I feel every fucking time I see you!" There was a moment of silence between you before you stand and slam your lips on his. He walks you onto the bed and rips off his clothes in a flurry. You bunch your dress up around your stomach and slide off your underwear.

He slides between your legs and wastes no time sliding inside of you. Normally he would spend close to forty minutes working you open with his fingers and skilled tongue to make sure you were dropping for him.

But he wanted to make a statement. That you were his. He licks his fingers before rubbing soft circles on your clit, making your back arch. He rocks into you with short, deep thrusts and bites the side of your neck. Your blissful groans filled the room when a knock came at your door.

"Y/N, Mr. Osborne is here early." River announces and opens the door to see Finn fucking you like his life depended on it. "Tell him she's busy," Finn dismisses, not breaking his stride when he pulls you into his lap.

You moan lowly at the new angle he was spearing into from. "What I'd give to be this popular." River tells himself before closing the door. He walks back downstairs where Mr. Osborne was waiting.

"She's busy in a meeting right now. She'll want to wash up before meeting you, good sir. I'll be more than happy showing you around town before then." "That sounds great, young man. Thank you." "She owes me for this," River says to himself. "What was that?" "Nothing,"

Finn watches you from his booth as you talk with Mister Osborne. He sits across from Isiah with a girl on each arm. One girl runs her hand through Finn's hair and the other kisses his neck. Neither of him faze him as he stares intensely at you.

"You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen and you're not even at your prime yet," he says, pressing a kiss to your hand. "Thank you," "You wanna know how this feud between families started?" You shake your head no.

"It's was because of a woman. Two friends both liked a girl in junior school. They friends belonged to allied mafias. The boys fought and was one left hospitalized for the rest of his life. That's how it started it. I think it's only poetic for it to end because of a woman. Don't you think?" He smiles at you but something made your skin crawl at the way he looks at you.

"Bro, forget about her. You have two dimes on your arm right now. Focus on them." "I can't," Finn looks at your feet. He remembers River telling him that they can tell how you're feeling by how your feet moves.

If your right foot moves in a small circle, it's a tell that you're comfortable. But if your foot doesn't move at all, even to shake, it's a tell that you were serious and didn't feel safe.

He noticed that neither of your feet were moving and your jaw was clenched. "Why are you interested in a woman my age, Mister Osborne?" "Please, call me Richard."

"You just remind of my late wife who passed. Nothing more than that." He adds and you size him up skeptically. "Is something wrong?" He asks when he notices your silence.

"Actually yes, there is. Something felt off as soon as I set my eyes on your Mister Osborne. What are you not telling me?" You ask, linking your hands on the table.

"You're a pervert, aren't you, Richard? You have romantic feelings for children?" You say loud enough to make the heads turn of the surrounding people.

"This is nonsense. I would never do such a thing!" He snaps. "River told me about how you looked at a little girl while you two were on your little walk." He slams his hands on the table before standing.

"You bi-" the sound of a gun cocking trapped the words in his throat. Finn holds a gun to Osborne's temple. "Go ahead, finish that sentence." Finn says.

You stand behind him and say, "You should leave town tonight. I doubt you'll be alive by morning. We don't tolerate, perverts. Do we, gentlemen?" You ask the pub.

"I'll fucking cut ya, cunt." One man grumbles. "You won't last till morning, fucker." Osborne grabs his jacket and rushes out of the bar. A few men follow him soon after and Finn tucks his gun into his holster. "Thank you," you tell him softly. "You alright?" He asks, smoothing a hand over your hair.

"Yes, I'm fine." You say with a nod. "How's that for 'not taking you seriously'." He cups your cheeks and kisses you warmly.

"God, finally!" Tommy says when he walks into the bar with Arthur and John. "Wait what? What did I miss?" John asks, looking between you and Finn. "You really are thick, brother." Thomas says. Finn snakes an arm around your waist and kisses your temple.

#finn shelby x reader #finn shelby #peakyblinders #john shelby #arthur shelby #thomas shelby #black!reader

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slimearchon · 3 years

Text

Childe & Scaramouche finding you trying on their mask/hat x GN Reader

Word count: 1092

Warnings: Mentions blood and slaying people.

Title: Childe and Scaramouche finding you trying on their mask/hat x GN Reader

Summary: Title says it all.

(Gifs not mine credit to owner)

Childe:

🍮- Your lover was in the shower and it was the perfect time to do what you wanted without worry of your lover’s sapphire eyes. The only time he took his mask off his head was when he was in the shower or when he crawled into bed with you.

🍮- Once your lover’s back rested against the bed his arms would quickly encase you in his firm grip, not giving you the chance to sneak off in the night and done his crimson mask.

🍮- You thought it looked good on him and wondered if it would look the same on you.

🍮- You went to the nightstand he had laid it on and quickly snatched it up, you went over to your full-length mirror and lifted it to your head, while it looked amazing on your lover it didn’t quite look too good on you, your personality not fitting the sharp crimson edges of the mask.

🍮- “Having your fun, darling?” A voice purred, the steam from the bathroom leaking into the room.

🍮- You almost dropped the mask in your fright but caught it just in time. “I was just cleaning it a bit, making sure all the blood was wiped off it.” You mumbled, not expecting your lover to catch you.

🍮- “I’m sure.” He chuckled, not seeming to mind one bit that a sprinkle of water droplets and a blue towel were the only things on his body.

🍮- His usually smiling face taking a dark tinge, your head instantly thought of a lamb standing in front of a wolf.

🍮- He didn’t waste any more time, he stalked over to you and cornered you until you fell back onto the bed, he lifted his wet hands up to your head and cradled it, the mask in your hands was plucked from them, he settled it on your head again.

🍮- “What a lovely sight to see, I’m upset I didn’t think of it myself darling.” He darkly chuckled, his grip on you becoming possessive.

🍮- You supposed this wasn’t the worst possible outcome of him finding you playing with his things.

Scaramouche:

🍮-His big ole hat was constantly on your mind, you found it fascinating that it was able to balance on your lover’s head while he slew those who dare come in his path.

🍮-You seemed to have the grace of the gods on your side since his urge to wet his blade with your blood never once whispered in his head, he found his lack of hostility towards you interesting.

🍮-You weren’t a fool, you knew that you had to tread lightly when it came to his mood and temper. He would never direct it at you but that didn’t mean a servant or maid wouldn’t be subjected to his bad mood if you were the one to cause it.

🍮-You knew you weren’t going to be able to change his villainess ways but at least you could help in making sure it didn’t go towards those that didn’t truly deserve his ire.

🍮-He made sure you were content and spoiled in your little safe house, you found the name ironic considering it was a huge mansion he hides you in, making the Dawn Winery look small.

🍮-He wasn’t known for his likable personality so you could understand his overprotectiveness with your safety.

🍮-He had recently come in from another bloody mission, taking the time to bathe before searching around the mansion for you. He found you lazing in the garden delicately sitting under the stone gazebo.

🍮-As soon as you saw his indigo hair you dashed towards him, a smile beaming on your face, “My love, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” You practically purred, you shoved your secret motive aside for the time being.

🍮-You would gauge his mood before you acted.

🍮-“The mission ended earlier than expected. It seems the fools on our side aren’t as incompetent as I thought, still lacking in combat skill though,” His voice held a note of indifference, his mind was on something more than his dull mission.

🍮-You saw the way his eyes lingered on your hands and figured out what he wanted. He had sought you out for a reason and you better fulfill it or he was going to be in a sour mood.

🍮-“Come sit down, my love. I am sure you are tired. Let me massage your scalp.” You practically sung, your voice like keys being softly struck on a piano to him.

🍮-You reached over and grabbed a plush cushion from the stone bench you were sitting on and laid it at your feet. You didn’t worry about anyone coming out to the garden and seeing him submissively kneeling between your legs.

🍮-No doubt he told the servants that if the so much as breathed in this direction it would be there last.

🍮-He had showered and dressed but still, his big hat sat on his head, you would find it locked in the closet when he wasn’t wearing it. Times like these were the only time it would be left unguarded.

🍮-You delicately took it off his slightly damp head and placed it on the bench beside your lap.

🍮-He was in a decent mood so it seems your wish to try it on would happen soon. The base of his neck rested on your knee, his eyes quickly falling shut as your fingers rubbed and prodded his scalp.

🍮-With your fingers and your gentle humming, he went slack against your lower half.

🍮-You slowly removed your hands from his head and carefully picked up his hat, the tassels made it difficult to move it without making a sound. Soon it rested on your head, your plan to see yourself in it suddenly falling short when you realized there wasn’t a mirror around.

🍮-You had begun to pout and looked down in defeat, your heart stalling when they met indigo hues staring up at you with a glare, “Did I tell you to stop?” He hissed, bringing his rough hands up to grab yours and place them back on his head.

🍮-You mumbled an apology and got back to rubbing his head.

🍮-“Before I wake back up my hat better be off your head.” He ordered, closing his eyes once more.

🍮-You breathed out a breath and plucked it off your head and back onto the bench. You supposed trying it on and living to tell the tale was enough.

Edited.

I finished my Scaramouche drawing today and felt like writing up a scenario I was thinking about while coloring it. What do you think? Thank you for leaving a note/reblogging! 💜

#genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #childe x reader #fatui harbringer #genshin imagines #scaramouche #childe #gn reader

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dreaminlittlenightmares · 2 years

Note

also also what are the antags favorite horror games (or movies doesn’t matter)

Movies have been done, so we're going to horror games (since Favorite Video Game in General has also been done)!

Gif answer, so everyone is under the cut!

The Maw

the Janitor: Inside

the Twin Chefs: Resident Evil series and Silent Hill series

the Lady: Fatal Frame II: Crimson Butterfly

the Granny: Until Dawn (especially if she makes all the bad decisions)

Pale City

the Hunter: Dead by Daylight

the Teacher: Doki Doki Literature Club

the Doctor: Hello Neighbor

the Thin Man: We Happy Few

The Nest

the Craftsman: Five Night at Freddy’s (3 in particular)

the Butler: Bendy and the Ink Machine

the Pretender: Fran Bow

Extras

the Ferryman: Phasmophobia

the Mirror Man: the Evil Within

the North Wind: Prey

#little nightmares #the LN villians #the Janitor #the Twin Chefs #the Lady #the Granny #the Hunter #the Teacher #the Doctor #the Thin Man #the Craftsman #the Butler #the Pretender #the Ferryman #the Mirror Man #the North Wind #dream granted

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kikilefangirl · 3 years

Text

Owed

Steve Rogers x Reader

(Word Count: 1377)

(Found this gif on Google images, so credit to whoever made it)

“Right this way, Miss.”

You followed the security guard through the gala’s main entrance hall.

Adorned with sparkling jewelry all through your hair, and matching diamond and ruby necklace and ring set, you were a vision in red. Your form fitting, crimson gown had a wide side slit, offset by your black velvet gloves.

Eyes were drawn to you as you all but glided across the room. The chandelier bathed your brown skin in a warm glow. On your first sweep you spied three generals, quite a few senators, and a room full of dutiful donors and their plus ones. Not one journalist.

“We need exactly forty-six minutes and eighteen seconds,” Mo, a crew member of yours, told you over comms. If they needed it, you’d get it.

“Alright, just get it done.” You replied under your breath.

“Yes, ma’am,” Mo responded and the line cut out. You grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter and took a sip.

“Care for a dance, doll?”

You were getting sloppy on the job. You had to be, because to miss such an obstacle as Captain America and whatever other agents he brought with him, would have never happened five years ago. You shook off your surprise and smiled, your lips parting to show white teeth.

“I don’t know, a dance with a handsome stranger seems too cliché,” You teased. He lit up at his supposed anonymity.

“Steve. Do I get upgraded from stranger enough for a dance?” He persisted, but made no moves toward you.

What a gentleman, you thought to yourself.

“I guess you do,” You lifted your gloved arm to him, expectantly.

Steve gently squeezed your hand and led you to the dance floor. The two of you were a perfect fit as you swayed across the room. Other guests gawked, with either jealousy or curiosity, you didn’t know. As the song ended the two of you stood, still close enough together for your breaths to intermingle.

During your dance you counted the two agents Steve brought with them out of the corner of your eye. One was a woman, blonde. Probably SHIELD. The other was a man with a gap toothed grin. He didn’t move like a regular agent, but definitely trained.

You needed more time.

“Thanks for the dance, Steve. See you around,” You said, sounding as flippant as you could.

As you pulled away, Steve whirled in front of you offering his arm. You linked yours with his and smirked up at him as he led through the crowd. He leaned down to your ear.

“Gorgeous, your face didn’t come up once on the guest list,” he whispered. You didn’t react, allowing him to guide you further away from the crowd.

“Since I’ve been made, I gotta say you’re a great dance partner, Captain.” You countered.

The male agent was waiting for the two of you in a corner off to the side. Steve’s grip tightened, pulling you closer to him. In a threat assessment, Steve wanted you more towards him than his second in command. A selfless leader willing to put his life in danger over his team’s.

So he was as much of a dream in real life as he was in your history books growing up.

“Why is it always the fine ones?” Number Two complained as Steve sat you down. You were flanked on either side, quite literally backed into a corner.

“Nine minutes and twenty three seconds, remaining,” Mo called out in your earpiece. You didn’t reply. Instead, you caught a glimpse of the female making the rounds, most likely checking for any others.

“You can call your girl off, I don’t bite.” You teased. Steve folded his arms over each other and leaned towards you.

“Why are you here?” He asked. His lips twitched and he coughed when he caught you staring at them. You looked him in the eye with no shame.

They were nice lips for a white guy.

“You know, I didn’t peg you as the type who only protects rich white folk, but I guess that’s why your partner’s here. To look out for the rest of us,” Your eyes flicked over to the dark skinned man. He was refreshing, really.

“I’ll ask again: why are you here?” Steve demanded through a tight lipped smile. To spectators, it looked like you and the captain were flirting, so they tried to avert their gazes.

“You play with toys, Captain. I do business.” You stated, not missing a beat.

You removed a ruby ring from your gloved hand and sat it across the table. Both men watched you and it like hawks.

“I take what I am owed by my country, because my country didn’t love me enough to do right by me the first time. Your partner understands.” You said in a breathy voice.

“I get paid just fine.” He told you. You were right about him not being an agent. You could feel the military bravado coming off him from a mile away.

“Two minutes.” Mo said. You smirked.

“Sure you do, soldier. But do you get paid his bucks?” You asked him, never sparing Steve a glance.

You had a feeling the answer was no.

“I have a pension with seventy years worth of interest on it. Now, what’s your name?”

You smiled and turned towards him. Finally, a better question.

“Y/N. Ask your friend Bucky about me. I doubt he’s here, so ask him when—“

Steve cut you off. The games were over with. His expression darkened, his blue eyes harsher than when they first appeared.

“You’re stalling. Fan out and find whoever she’s protecting.” He ordered.

Both the soldier and the agent separated to look for your crew. They were long gone. Steve’s iron grip kept you in place, the advantages of a super soldier.

“Pro-tip Captain, it’s only stalling if you need the extra time. I just like hearing you talk.” You admitted.

Taking your free hand, you flagged down a waiter. As he drew nearer, your eyes turned a startling shade of purple and so did the waiter’s. Before Steve could react, you used your power to get inside the poor waiter’s head and made him see the single most person he wanted to hurt.

It was an older man, probably his father. Predictable.

The waiter launched himself at Steve before he could react, and the hand that gripped you was no more. You slid out from the small booth and out in the open. The man was going rabid, but Steve was fending him off in the nicest possible way. The attention of the crowd was on them, but the soldier from earlier wasn’t as easily fooled.

“I’m on her.” He replied, pushed through the masses to get to you.

“Sorry, man. I hate to do this to a brother, but...” You trailed off, and your eyes flashed purple again.

You made him see what he wanted most. This time the man, Sam, was stuck in a vision about him, dawning the Captain’s shield. Go figure. Sam stood stock still, his dark eyes turned a vibrant purple. You slipped out of the front door into a waiting car.

As the driver sped off, you could see Steve bounding down the street after you. He recovered from your little sideshow, and was gaining on you. Damn, he was good.

Opening up the skylight, you made eye contact with him, stopping him in his tracks. The vision was of you and him dancing like you had been doing only an hour ago.

So he was a romantic at heart.

You sat back down and used your powers to nudge Steve closer to the curb. You had no doubt that the man could take the hit, but there was something about him that stopped you from allowing it to happen.

Besides, incoming traffic honked and swerved to avoid being hit by you or him, anyway. No civilian would be seriously injured and your stunt put enough distance between the two of you that you weren’t followed.

“All thirty mil is accounted for and ready for distribution.” Mo sounded off. You smiled and fingered your diamond necklace.

“Great work everyone, you know what to do,” you praised your team through your earpiece. The only bumps in the plan came from your end. You clicked off your comms and put it in your purse.

As you sat back in your seat and pulled up the partition, your mind drifted to the Captain. You went off into the night with the memory of a handsome man who kept you on your toes all night. It was a shame you couldn’t enjoy him longer.

“Goodnight, Steve.” You whispered.

A secret goodbye to a man who wasn’t yours and would never hear it.

…

“JARVIS, I need you to ID someone for me. Keyword: Y/N.”

Steve was standing in Avengers Tower in an undershirt and the dress pants he had on earlier. He was staring intensely at the only image the camera could get of the jaw dropping woman who bested him. He blushed just thinking of the images you made him see.

“She’s in the wind, man. And that’s probably a fake name.” Sam chimed in as he entered the room, yawning.

“She made me see things,” Steve started, but Sam threw his hand up with a look of almost guilt in his eyes.

Steve elected to ignore that.

“Sir, there is no record of a Y/N ever existing.” JARVIS stated.

Steve clenched his jaw and thought back to what you said about Bucky.

“JARVIS, pull up Hydra’s enhanced program. I doubt we’d get a name, but a list of abilities and weaknesses will do. Cross reference with any known or suspected holding facilities Bucky was in.” He ordered.

Sucking in a breath, he still smelled hints of your perfume. It had been so long since he held a woman without the last name Carter. It was different, but he enjoyed it right up until the part where Sam said you were an uninvited guest with no ID.

Steve had the worst luck with women.

JARVIS pinged up a short list of Hydra experiments.

Only one fit.

“Sam, can you go wake up, Buck. We need to talk to him about his ex-cellmate.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x poc!reader #steve rogers x black!reader #marvel mcu #marvel #poc!reader #black!reader

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mandoalorian · 4 years

Text

Don’t Let Me Go [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT

Summary: Spiralling in a circle of guilt and blame, Maxwell Lord reflects on the night he let you slip through his fingers. He just wishes he had seen the warning signs sooner. Then maybe he wouldn't have lost you.

Word count: 8k

Author's note: This is my longest one shot so far oh my gosh. Please note that everything that is in bold italics are flashbacks. I hope you enjoy! Xx

MASTERLIST

~ gif by: pajamasecrets

••••••••

There was simply no way to put into words how Maxwell Lord was feeling. Without you, his suburban-manor home was empty. Completely empty. Nothing but the drip of a leaky faucet echoing through the oversized kitchen, and the padding of his shuffled footsteps as he made his way to the bar to pour himself a drink. He didn't cook anymore, but he wasn't feeling the pain of going hungry. His bed wasn't made, but it didn't matter because he couldn't sleep in it anymore knowing that your scent still haunted the blankets. He would slumber around his house in a shirt that had been unevenly buttoned up and probably hadn't been washed in a week. His eyes were tired, cheeks were tear stained and he hadn't taken absence from work this long in his whole life. His job was what lost you. How could he ever want to go back?

Maxwell was unravelling back into the mean spirited man he was before he met you— but somehow, worse. He didn't have friends, he had business associates. And he had chosen to cut himself off from his mother due the awful way she had treated him his whole life. If his own mother could see the broken shell of a man that Maxwell had become, she would laugh in his face. She would reprimand him, and tell him how she had warned him not to fall in love. Business first, always. But it was that same advice that she had ingrained into him from such a young age, which would inevitably be his downfall. All he ever had, was you. And that was enough. That was all he needed.

Maxwell hardly remembered life before you but he was certain it didn't hurt this bad. He had experienced loss before; with his father when he was only sixteen— but this was a different kind of loss. You were still out there. You were living your life, and you had chosen to do it without him. How could you? How could Maxwell possibly survive without you? He opened up to you like he had with no other. He softened around you and the level headed businessman had become completely dependent on you.

When you were with him, you changed him into a better man. You encouraged him to tidy for himself, taught him how to cook meals and insisted that he even did his own dishes afterwards. You would scold him gently for not making his side of the bed until eventually, he was making both sides of the bed, and even doing laundry.

You both shared a schedule— waking up at the same time every dawn. Sharing cuddles and kisses and intimate touches in bed under the morning sunlight. Eventually getting up and taking your turns to cook breakfast. Whether it be blueberry pancakes or eggs, or sometimes Maxwell would surprise you with an array of exciting different foods from all around the world. Then, you would head back to your bedroom and dance in your shared walk-in closet, laughing together as you picked out your outfit of the day. You’d tie his tie and straighten his suspenders before helping him into his suit jacket. He loved the way you'd style his hair on a morning. Maxwell was a perfectionist but you knew just the way he liked things and he really admired that about you. You'd brush your teeth together and he'd paint your face with your favourite face cream. When you applied your lipstick, you'd always give him a surprise kiss and make your mark on him. He'd reluctantly scrub the lipstick stain off his cheek, or jaw, or chin, or wherever you had planted it that day, but now he wished he still had every mark you had ever made on him.

You were so understanding too. This was the longest relationship either of you had ever committed to before. You fell in love with each other hard and fast— but the honeymoon phase seemingly never ended. Everyday was a new and exciting ride with Maxwell. He knew how much you wanted children, and a family. You'd bring it up now and again. One day, Maxwell felt as though he should open up to you.

He explained how he had never considered having children because of his own personal relationship with his family. He informed you about how absent his parents were, and he imagined himself to be like his late father; too consumed in his own work and business to give any attention to his son. Max knew that pain all too well due to experiencing it firsthand. He would never want that for his children. It was nothing to do with you— he has no doubt in his mind how excellent of a mother you would be. But to Max, being a CEO and father just didn't go hand in hand. Of course, this shattered you, but it wasn't a deal breaker because Maxwell was the complete love of your life. With kids or without kids, as long as you had Max, you believed you would live a lifetime of satisfaction and genuine happiness.

Maxwell Lord hadn't known love until he met you, and the truth is, from the moment he laid his eyes on you, he was infatuated. He knew he just had to have you. And so he spent weeks trying to woo you and win you over. He started with all he ever known, buying you jewellery from Tiffany’s, Louis Vuitton heels and the most gorgeous crimson red shade of Dior lipstick that he dreamed of you wearing on multiple occasions. But it didn't faze you.

"I don't need all of this," you sighed, placing the large white box on the table and re-wrapping it with the silver silk ribbon. Maxwell furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "There are people out there who walk around the streets of DC in winter with holes in their shoes, mothers who can't afford ChapStick nevermind Dior Lipstick."

Maxwell hesitated. No woman had ever rejected the material items he had purchased for them. They'd always sweep them away with a familiar glint in their eye and, to show their appreciation, would go down on him later that night. He lulled his head to the side. "Not even the necklace?" Maxwell questioned, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip.

You breathed an elongated sigh, taking the Tiffany’s box and opening it once more with a small click. You adored the necklace. A small silver chain with a crystal heart in the centre. You could only guess that it was Swarovski. In the sunlight, the crystal gleamed a prism of rainbow colours— like a kaleidoscope. It was simply magnificent and unlike any other necklace you had seen before.

“It is beautiful.” you hummed, admiring the way it sparkled before your eyes. Maxwell took the box from your hands and removed the necklace. He stood up and gently moved your hair to one side, his soft fingers brushing against your skin making your heart flutter. He clipped the necklace in place and adjusted it so the small crystal heart fell over your chest.

"It brings out your eyes." Maxwell smiled and you felt your cheeks heat up at his comment. "Please, keep the necklace. I see how much you like it. And it suits you so well."

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Still standing behind you, Maxwell swung his arms around your hips and pulled you into his chest. He gently pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. "Thank you Max," your voice was barely above a whisper. "But please, no more gifts. All I need is you."

Your words took Maxwell by surprise because he had never heard no such thing from any of his partners before. It was true, you meant your sentiment completely, all you needed was his attention, his care, his love, and most importantly him. That is where he went wrong and what would ultimately be the downfall to your relationship.

"I will wear this everyday!" you beamed proudly with a grin so wide. Maxwell felt chuffed with your love for the necklace. "I won't ever take it off." You promised him. "Let it be a symbol of our first date."

"The start of our relationship?" Maxwell proposed and you let out a small squeal as your arms tightened around him and you buried your head into the softness of his chest. The buttons of his shirt poked into your cheek but you didn't care, and you felt your eyes close as he brushed his fingers softly through your hair.

"The start of our relationship." you confirmed with a smile.

Maxwell threw the crystalled whiskey glass to the wall at the memory, his already broken heart shattering into even smaller pieces. He didn't think it was possible, and yet. The amber liquid dripped against the white walls and the glass deflected back at him, cutting his hand. A thin stripe of blood leaked down his arm and he done nothing but simply swallow a curse. It didn't even hurt. He was completely numb.

He hated what he had become, and there was no one to blame other than himself. Sometimes he would try to hate you. He would take a look at himself in the mirror and feel nauseated at the sight of him. He was a mess, and he couldn't stand to feel any more self hatred. He couldn't take it. He couldn't live like this. He remembered when his schedule at work became a lot more hectic and he was away on business trips a lot. He'd call you, every night without fail from his hotel room. You'd be spread out on his bed, sporting his favourite button down work shirt and pair of shorts. The sight alone would be enough to make Maxwell hurry home quicker than The Flash. But he had work commitments that he simply could not leave behind.

"How many more business trips?" You tried to keep composed for him, but just hearing his voice and knowing he was hundreds of miles away from you felt like a knife in your heart.

"It could be like this up until the end of the year. Canada isn't easy to do dealings with. Not even my charm can succumb the president." Maxwell chuckled lightheartedly, and you allowed a small yet pained smile to creep upon your lips. He truly had no idea how much you were hurting without him, but, it sounded like he was doing just fine without you.

"Max, time for dinner!" You heard an unfamiliar feminine voice call in the background. You froze up, a shiver racing down your spin and goosebumps rising on your arms.

Silence.

"Who was that?" you asked your boyfriend cautiously, your fingers anxiously twiddling on the crystal necklace he had gifted you months prior.

"Oh, that was my assistant, Barbara," Maxwell explained non-chalantely. "You remember? I had to get a new assistant. Veronica couldn't come to Canada so…"

"Oh." you replied, voice cold. "She called you Max." you stated matter of factly. You couldn't just let that slide.

"Well yeah," he chuckled. "That's my name."

"Everyone at work calls you Mr Lord." you deadpanned. "Or sir."

"I mean, yeah, that's true I suppose. But Barbara's new and I never specified otherwise. Besides, I'm growing to like the informality. No doubt that's your doing." He laughed. But you weren't sharing the same energy.

"You're having dinner with her?" You hoped you weren't sounding pushy, or clingy, but you had to know.

"Yeah, she got us reservations at this fantastic Italian restaurant. We went last night too." Maxwell was smiling on the other end of the line but you felt like screaming at this revelation. "Actually, I think you'd love it there. I hear Canada is beautiful at Christmas time. Maybe I can clear some time off in December and I'll take you?" he suggested. Usually you'd be so excited at this proposal of his, telling him you'd be packing your bags immediately. But not this time.

You trusted your boyfriend. You really did. But you couldn't stand the fact that he was in a different country with another woman who you'd never even met before. Jealousy riled in your stomach and you wondered what she was like. Not only that, but Maxwell had a long winded history of sleeping with his assistants and you were completely aware of how desperate his sex drive could be. The more you thought about it, the more your stomach churned. But you just couldn't escape the thoughts.

You wondered what Barbara was like. Maxwell's assistants were always young and beautiful. They wore the nicest clothes to impress him and made such an effort every single day. Of course, this was before you. He'd select his assistants based on looks rather than qualifications. If they couldn't pour him a good cup of coffee, that was okay because they'd be gone after a week anyway. You wondered if he had employed Barbara based on her looks.

He called your name. "Are you there?" He asked.

"Uhm, yeah, I should go." You told him hastily, suddenly feeling the urge to hurry to run to the bathroom. You felt like you had to throw up.

"Oh, okay," Maxwell replied. He often struggled picking up on the little prompts you would make that illustrated you weren't okay. It was no fault of his own, but unless you explicitly stated that something was wrong, the chances were, he would just assume that everything is okay. "Well, can I call you the same time tomorrow?"

"Okay." you shakily exhaled, praying he didn't notice your growing anxiety. If he noticed, he would confront you about it. That was just his nature.

"Okay. I love you sweetheart." You could practically hear his grin. A single tear slipped down your cheek.

"I love you too." You told him before slamming the phone down on the hook.

Maxwell was taken aback by your abrupt end to the phone call. He sat on the edge of his bed, processing your words. He went to dial your number again because he felt in his heart that there was a chance that something could be wrong.

"Maaaaaax," Barbara called again, snapping the businessman out of his thoughts. "We're going to be late." Barbara sauntered over to Maxwell, his tie in her hand and placed it around his neck. She went to cross it over when he gently put his hand out to stop her.

"That's okay," he said. "I can tie it myself."

Barbara stiffened at his rejection but after a few seconds of awkward silence, she shuffled away.

That was the very first time Max being away had bothered you to unmeasurable amounts. You struggled to sleep without him anyway, but that night, you were completely restless. Tossing and turning— imagining him with his assistant doing unspeakable things together. You couldn't count the amount of journeys you made to your en-suite bathroom. Not only that, but you were ridden with guilt. If Maxwell found out you were doubting his faithfulness, he would be devastated.

And it only got worse.

He spent more time away. Longer business trips. He had to cancel the December trip to Canada that he promised. It felt like he was slipping through your fingers.

Maxwell fell to his knees when the memory of your break-up hit him like a ton of bricks.

Maxwell put the phone down with a smile. “Albert has invited Edward and I over for drinks tonight." he announced. You adjusted the red roses he had brought home for you and put the glass vase in different locations around the dining room, trying to gauge where they would look nicest.

"You said no, right?" You asked, manouvering a rose to one side, being careful not to prick your finger on the stem.

"Why would I say no?" Maxwell asked.

You pricked your finger.

"Shit." you hissed, your blood dripping down your hand. Maxwell grabbed a flannel and wet it under the kitchen tap. He walked over to you and carefully wrapped it around the cut. You winced at his contact.

"Does it hurt?" Maxwell asked, dabbing at the cut being as careful as he could.

"That you forgot we had plans tonight and agreed to see Albert and Edward?" you asked, bitterness dripping from your tongue. Maxwell pulled away, knotting his eyebrows together in confusion. "Yeah Max, it hurts."

"We didn't have plans." Maxwell said, folding his arms over his chest.

"This is your only night home!" You cried out. All your emotions while he had been gone were pent up inside of you and this was the final straw. "I rented a movie, I got the popcorn maker out!"

Maxwell took a peek at his gold wrist watch. "We could watch half the movie and you know, I don't really like popcorn that much anyway." He was actually serious about ditching you on his only night home. You were so angry. "Listen baby, I won't be gone all night. And when I get home, we can have a little fun ourselves. I won't be too late, I promise. Besides, I've missed you-" He suggested, voice low. You let Maxwell's fingers trace your skin, and he meant it in nothing but a comforting way, and yet you had the urge to smack his hand away from you.

"No!" You folded your arms across your chest and shook your head.

"No?" Maxwell quizzed, confused. "But baby-"

"Max how can you be so… so…." you struggled to even find words but you hoped he had picked up on the frustration in your tone of voice.

"What?" He beckoned you but all you could do was hide your face in your hands. You were so close to tears. You wanted to beg him to stay with you, but the point is, you knew that you shouldn't have to beg. Maxwell awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "You know I was suggesting sex, right?"

You narrowed your eyes in his direction. "Oblivious." you said. "You're so oblivious."

"You're keeping something from me." Maxwell deadpanned.

"You're keeping something from me." You repeated.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"And so what if I ask Barbara?" you asked, but regretting the words instantly as they left your mouth.

Maxwell blinked, completely dumbfounded. "Ask Barbara what?"

"Ohhh what went on in Canada? What you both get up to on these business trips. You're with her more than you're with me." You accused. But it was the truth.

"I'm not following." Maxwell said. "Are you trying to accuse me of something?" You couldn't even look at him. Then it dawned on him. "You think I'm cheating on you." His blood ran cold.

You didn't know what to say. It was true. You had suspected. But gauging by his reaction, and the way his voice cracked, you knew right then and there you had been wrong. And that you had hurt him. Maxwell loosened his tie and leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Tell me." He urged.

"Yes," you whispered, looking at your feet in shame. "I thought that… I thought…"

"Tell me," he repeated. "I want to hear you say it."

"I thought you were cheating on me with Barbara." you admitted with a sigh, and looked up at your boyfriend with hazy, tear filled eyes. "Max…" you let your voice trail off and put your hand against your raising heart.

"How could you?" he asked in disbelief.

"You always slept with your assistants… before me. And you were so secretive about Barbara. You went out to Italian restaurants together. And I just thought-"

"That I was sleeping with her?!" He raised his voice at you and oh boy, you hated when he shouted at people. He never shouted at you, that's one thing for sure, but when you had first met, he shouted a lot. He shouted at the people he worked with, he shouted at his colleagues, his secretary, his assistants. He definitely had grown out of the habit since he entered his relationship with you but Maxwell was so angry right now...

"Well can you blame me?!" You yelled at him back feeling defensive.

"I can't believe you don't trust me." Maxwell shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know Barbara did make advances on me." You felt your fingers curl into a fist. "But I rejected her, obviously. I warned her if she keeps at it she'll have to find another job."

You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Because you can't resist the temptation of her."

"What the fuck, no?!" Maxwell bellowed and his voice was so loud your heart dropped. You completely froze up. "Because I didn't want to disrespect you. I'm not going to stand for other women trying to make their move on me when I'm faithful to you!"

"Can you please stop yelling." Your voice was quiet— begging, almost.

But he didn't stop. "I have never ever given you a reason not to trust me." Maxwell felt so hurt. He felt heartbroken. He would've never have second guessed you like this.

"Will you stop fucking yelling at me?!" You shouted, tears streaming down your face in anger.

Maxwell stood there in silence, watching you bubble up and cry. Truthfully, he was finding it difficult to keep it together himself. He'd normally come to you, pull you in a hug and wipe your tears away, nursing you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. But he just stood there, frozen and staring. You wiped your tears away yourself and took a deep breath before grabbing your jacket and purse from the coat rack.

"Where are you going?" Maxwell sighed.

"I'm leaving." you stated. You knew this was it. And you couldn't even bring yourself to look back at him. If you looked at him one more time, it might be enough to stay. And you couldn't stay. Nothing had ever hurt this much.

"What? Well when will you be back?" Maxwell questioned.

"I'm not coming back." You swung your purse over your shoulder and Maxwell followed you to the front door.

"What the hell do you mean?" he called after you.

"I'm leaving you." your own words felt like daggers in your heart.

"What?" Maxwell asked.

"Please don't come find me." You told him, your fingers tracing the door handle. You opened the door and set foot on the patio, looking up at the setting sun. It reminded you of all the moments you spent with Maxwell, lounging outside waiting for the stars to come out, or the evenings where you'd be tidying up the garden after a barbecue. "You know, I really did love you Max." You whispered, a tear slipping from your eye.

"Just. Come back inside and we can talk about this. I'm, I'm sorry for yelling. Please." Maxwell begged, his voice cracking. He held his arm out for you and wished so desperately that you would turn around and take his hand. But you didn't.

"It's not just the yelling Max, you're prioritising your work over our relationship."

"Baby, you knew it would be this way when you got with me. I told you."

"I just don't think I can handle it." You sniffed.

"Come back inside and we can talk about it." Maxwell said but you shook your head.

"Goodbye Maxwell."

Maxwell's grip on the bathroom sink was so tight, his knuckles went white. His own reflection made him sick. This wasn't him. This wasn't Maxwell Lord.

Maxwell Lord didn't lose. He didn't lose anything. He didn't lose business negotiations, he didn't lose business deals and he certainly wouldn't lose the love of his life. He had to stop moping, he had to make this right.

He ran to the dining room and swung the phone of the hook, dialing the home number of his driver, Jeeves. "Come on, come onnnn." he mumbled to himself, tapping his foot impatiently. It was the dead of night and Maxwell was aware that Jeeves would be at home with his family, asleep. But this was important and Maxwell paid Jeeves enough to be able to answer the phone at 1:30am, that's for sure.

"Hello?" A tired Jeeves greeted Maxwell.

"Where is Y/N staying?" Maxwell asked abruptly. Straight to the point.

"Mr Lord… with all due respect…"

"Jeeves I need to know and I need to know now," Maxwell cut him off. "Don't make me come down there."

"Sir, you should be asleep."

"Jeeves." Maxwell raised his voice sternly. "I don't have time for games. Where is she?"

Jeeves sighed. "Last I heard, she was at the Waterfront Hotel." Maxwell scribbled the name down on a torn piece of paper and hurriedly crumpled it into the pocket of his light grey sweatpants.

"Thank you Jeeves."

"Will you be needing me to take you there?" Jeeves yawned.

"No," Maxwell said. "Go back to sleep. I'll take the Porsche. Drive myself."

"Ah, excellent choice. Okay, goodnight Mr Lord." Jeeves yawned again.

"Send Elizabeth and the children my love. I'm sorry for bothering you." Maxwell apologised and slammed the phone down on the hook.

Jeeves’ wife, Elizabeth, rubbed her eyes and shuffled upwards. "Who was calling at this ungodly hour?"

Her husband hesitated, confusion evident in his face. "It was Maxwell Lord. I think he's going after Y/N."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Oh thank goodness for that."

"I know… he's really lost it without her," Jeeves admitted, shaking his head. "He told me that he sends you and the kids his love."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Maxwell Lord said that?" she asked in disbelief and Jeeves shrugged his shoulders.

"It’s Y/N," He replied. "She just has that effect on him."

You'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't miss him. You thought about him every second of every day— and you weren't doing too well yourself. You hadn't left the hotel room once. You couldn't bring yourself to eat. You found it difficult to sleep. Your final words to him haunted you.

"I really did love you."

Why did you say that? Why would you make him believe that you no longer loved him? You wondered if he had moved on yet, perhaps initiated a relationship with Barbara. You wondered if he had resorted to his old ways and had been fucking and dumping his assistants. You wondered if he still thought about you.

You were so worried about him because you knew how self destructive Maxwell could become. You knew about his dependency on alcohol and his tendency to lash out and yell at people when you weren't there to call him down. If he was suffering at least half as much as you were, you felt extreme guilt. You hoped he hadn't gotten himself hurt. You weren't happy, but if you had some kind of closure— if you just knew that he was doing okay without you, then maybe you would feel better.

And yet you couldn't bring yourself to go back home. You had Maxwell's driver bring over your toiletries and clothes and tipped him enough to not tell Maxwell which hotel you were staying at. You didn't know if it was really worth it. He was Maxwell's driver, and if Maxwell asked, you figured the driver would reveal your location anyway. Your mind was racing. What if he did ask? What if Maxwell knew where you were but didn't care enough to come see you. You didn't tell him to not come and find you…

A sudden loud knock on your hotel room door interrupted your thoughts. You sat frozen in your bed and checked the wall clock. It was almost two in the morning. The knock came again, even harder this time and you clutched your bed sheets tight around you. You took a deep breath and shuffled out of bed, padding to the door. You scoped your hotel room for something blunt that could be used as a weapon if this post-midnight mystery stranger happened to be an intruder. Slowly, you opened the door.

Your heart sunk when you saw him.

Dark circles under his eyes, his dark blonde hair messy and sticking up in places. He was literally wearing one of his button down work shirts (the one you used to sleep in), and light grey sweatpants. He looked helpless, and it was like time had frozen. You felt your eyes begin to sting from the brimming tears and you could only bring yourself to whisper his name. "Max…"

Maxwell took a step forward and pressed a heated kiss into your lips. It took you by surprise, but you soon sank into his chest. This was it. This was everything you had missed. His lips tasted like a mix of whiskey and spirits. His large, ring clad hands gripped your back and pressed you tight into his broad chest. He was finally holding you again, and kissing you— and you were letting him. He couldn't believe it. He pulled away for breath but didn't let go of you for one second. He nudged his nose against yours. "I am so sorry…" Maxwell whispered, a tear falling down his cheek. You cupped your hand around his face and wiped his tear away with your thumb before pressing your forehead against his. "I was so stupid, for everything. I shouldn't have let you go." His voice was sore and it broke your heart. He was taking full accountability and blaming himself.

"No Max," you sniffed and shook your head. "No. I wasn't thinking straight. I was so mad."

"I gave you a reason to be mad." Maxwell soothed you, rubbing circles into your back.

"No no no," You curled up into his chest again, holding him tight. "I acted irrationally. Please don't blame yourself." You begged him. "This was on me. You were right. You never gave me a reason not to trust you."

"I was so foolish, planning to go and see Albert and Edward on our only night together." His words brought back a familiar pain and you broke down into a sobbing mess in Maxwell's arms. He continued to rub your back, feeling your tears dampen in his lazily buttoned shirt. He kissed your head gently, the familiar scent of your hair making his knees weak. "I'm really struggling," Maxwell gulped. "I don't think I can live without you. I need you. I need you and your good heart helping me decide between what's right and what's wrong. I need you scolding me for my bad manners and confronting me when I'm in the wrong…" you let out a small chuckle and his heart bloomed. "It's true!" he smiled for the first time into your hair. "You're the only one who can get away with telling me what to do. I miss the way you play with my hair," you dragged your hands up to his hair and Maxwell let out a muffled groan. "Missed your touch," he said, stiffening up as you let your hands roam down his body, touching every bit of skin he had visible. "Missed your kisses," you pressed another kiss against his lips and let your arms rest comfortably around his waist. "Missed you so fucking much."

"Maaaax," you whimpered out his name as he placed sloppy kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

"I don't think I can be alone anymore," he said in between kisses. "You don't have to forgive me. I wouldn't forgive me. But please come home with me. And I will spend every day for the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you. You first. You before Edward and Albert and Barbara, you before all work commitments." he promised and you hummed in contentment.

"I would want nothing more." You told him and he smiled. "No more fights. I'm going to communicate better, I can do better. And Maxwell?"

"Hm?" Maxwell's voice was soft like velvet.

"I forgive you. And I never stopped loving you."

Maxwell sighed and squeezed you tight. "I never want to let go of you." he admitted. "I never want to leave you ever again. Wherever I go, you're coming with me. This has been the worst couple of weeks."

"You have looked better." you joked with a small smile. You grabbed him by his shirt collar and dragged him into your hotel room, before locking the door behind you.

"You…" he smiled, his eyes sparkling. "You always look so beautiful."

"You're lying," you shook your head feeling your cheeks heat up at his smooth choice of words. "I haven't slept in days."

Maxwell cupped your cheeks with both hands, taking in the features he had missed so dearly. "Me neither, but I'll sleep well tonight, I'm sure of it." He said and you grinned, playfully pushing him into the plush hotel bed. He yelped as you clambered on top of him and straddled him.

"Fuck Max," you whimpered, softly rubbing your hips over his crotch.

"Shit baby," he mewled, his hands dropping to your hips and grabbing your ass. His eyes were locked on to your body as you lounged on top of him. "Missed this." he admitted with a sheepish smile.

"It's been so long," you said quietly, popping open the buttons on his shirt and helping him shuffle out of it. There was a real temptation to just curl into his warm naked chest and fall asleep in his arms but you needed more. It had been months without any kind of sexual gratification and now you finally had him. You had been yearning for so long. "Couldn't stop thinking about you," you admitted and Maxwell's heart fluttered in his chest. "Every night I… I could never sleep. So I'd lay here in this bed and just think about you. Think about you holding me… kissing me… touching me…"

"Where?" He quizzed you, his voice low at the thought of you laying exactly where he was now lying, restless because you were imagining his touch.

"Everywhere," you breathed shakily.

"Show me."

He steadied you as you removed your hands from his chest and pulled off your shirt. Maxwell gasped slightly when he saw you weren't wearing a bra and you began to touch yourself in front of him. You let your fingers grace over your arms, your stomach, and then brought them up to your breasts. You let your thumb graze over your nipples and cupped them, squeezing a few times as you closed your eyes at the blissful sensation. Maxwell watched you touch yourself intently and you began to feel him harden beneath you. Unable to hide the smirk playing on your lips, you continued to softly grind over his length, gaining a gentle moan from him. "Touch me." you begged him. He ran his big hand up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and to your chest, twirling the crystal necklace he had gotten for you way back when you had your first date.

"You never took the necklace off?" he asked, his chocolate brown eyes looking deep into yours.

"Never," you told him and he returned your smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Lean into me," his voice was rough but gentle. You obeyed him, slowly sinking forward into his body and he took one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking on your nipple and eliciting a moan from you. With his free hand, he opted to mirror your previous actions and squeezed your other breast. Your knees weakened everytime his teeth grazed your skin and you missed the way he would gently bite at you. All your senses were completely heightened and he felt amazing. You hummed in delight before leaning back, your breast leaving Maxwell's mouth with a pop.

You climbed off him and took to your knees by his side when you began to palm his length through his grey sweatpants. "You're so cute," you giggled as you stroked him through the soft material.

Maxwell turned his head slightly and furrowed his eyebrows together. "Cute?" he asked.

"Mhm," you replied, dipping your hand into his sweats and pulling out his throbbing hard cock. You smiled to yourself— he wasn't wearing underwear either. You slowly began to pump at it and a delicious moan fell from his lips. "You come here in a work shirt and sweatpants," you conceded. "Not your best fashion decision. But I do love these sweats. I love to see you get hard in them, it's so hot. I can really see how big you are," you admired him and let your thumb sweep across the tip of his cock, collecting the precum that had beaded there. You brought your thumb to your mouth and began sucking on it, letting his warm, salty seed settle on your tongue.

"F-fuck," Maxwell drawled out. "Keep talking like that. You're so- you're so fucking pretty, sucking on your thumb like that. Wish- wish you were suck-"

"Be patient my love," you whispered, pressing a kiss into his v line and wrapping your hand around his cock once more, repeating the movements. You knew what he wanted, and you wanted it too. "We have all the time in the world."

"Keep talking like that." he reminded you, watching as your hands graced his length.

"I'd lay here," your voice was barely above a whisper. "Just like you are. And I'd imagine you fucking me. Been too long. Missed- missed you so much. I missed your big hands and the way you'd caress me. I missed how good you were at going down on me… best- best I've ever had," you hummed in delight, feeling your cunt begin dampen your shorts. "Most of all, I missed this. I missed your big cock, and the way it fills me perfectly. Feels so amazing. While you were away on those fucking business trips… I’d…I’d..." you took a deep breath.

"What?" Maxwell prompted you to continue.

You took one hand and began to cradle his balls as you kept rubbing up and down the length. "I'd finger myself, rub myself, do everything I could just thinking about you. Usually I-," you exhaled shakily before shooting him an innocent smile. "I'd have to use a dildo because my fingers can't ever compare to your cock. Nothing can, Max." You promised him and he emitted an earthy groan. "Your turn." you smiled at him before licking his tip.

"Fuuuck. That- that feels so good," Maxwell gritted out, throwing his head back into the pillow. You opened your mouth slightly and started by taking the tip in your mouth, sucking softly. "More, please,"

"Keep talking." You quoted him cheekily before reattaching your mouth to his hard cock.

"I took those Polaroids with me," Maxwell admitted bashfully. "The- the ones you took for me on Valentine's day. You wore that lacy red lingerie set I got you and fuck, you looked so stunning that night. Found it so hard to sleep without you by my side so I'd get out the photos and jerk off to them. I- I could never really last long looking at you, you're just so fucking pretty," Maxwell praised and you hollowed your cheeks, sinking your mouth further down on him. "I'd dream about this. Baby, you know how much I love getting blown," You felt his cock twitch in your mouth just as he said that and you tried to suppress a giggle. "Dreamt about this. Your mouth on me. I- I'd cum in your mouth."

You lifted off him with a pop. "Cum in my mouth then," you urged with a sheepish grin and continued sucking on him, bobbing your head up and down.

"N-no." Maxwell said, lowering his hands to tug off your head. "Fuck, no. Baby. I have to fuck you." You almost came from his words alone and you could feel the electricity spark in your stomach as excitement filled your core. "I have to feel you. Feel you around me. You always- you always feel like home."

Your heart blossomed at his words. "Can I ride you?" you asked him, popping off him again. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look into his eyes. They were so dark with lust, you could've mistaked the usual honeyed shade for black.

"No. I want to fuck you." he growled in your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

He kicked off his sweats that were pooled around his ankles and you pulled down your silk shorts, discarding them on the floor with the rest of his and your clothes. "Please please please can I ride you." you whimpered, letting your hand fall down to your cunt and you started rubbing your clit as you drunk in the image of Maxwell spread out on the hotel bed, his cock hard and pressed against his stomach.

"No." he reprimanded you as he got to his knees. He pushed you down onto the bed and you lay there on your tummy, your butt perked in the air.

"Maaaax," you drew out his name, waiting for him to do something. Max was stroking his length and this time it was his turn to get a good look of your naked body that he had missed so much.

"Patience." he scolded, giving your ass a spank. You let out a yelp as the coolness of his rings slapped against your warm skin. That was sure to leave a bruise.

"Fuckkk Max, I need you inside me now," You begged and started to rub yourself against the blankets on the bed, desperate for some kind of friction to ease the overwhelming sensation you were feeling.

He spanked you again and you let out another yelp. "You will be patient," he warned again. "Are you a good girl?"

"Yes Max," you sung, sweetness dripping from your tongue.

"Good girls don't talk back. Now get on all fours." You listened to his instruction, scrambling to your knees and resting on your elbows. "Spread your legs. I want to look at you." You obeyed him, knowing that if you dared to speak up again he'd issue another spanking.

Maxwell stroked himself while drinking in the sight of you. Your folds glistened under the light and Maxwell couldn't rid himself of the pride he was feeling. "All for me?" He mumbled, and aligned his cock against your entrance. You tossed your head back at the feeling of his tip nudging against you.

"All for you." you confirmed in a whisper. Maxwell wrapped his arms underneath you and started fondling with your breasts before suddenly, and in one swift movement, thrusting inside of you.

Your breathing hitched at the sensation of his long thick cock stretching your walls. "Oh shit Max," you moaned in pleasure. "Shit shit shit," you panted as he kept thrusting deep inside you with consistent movements. Tears pricked your eyes as he hit your g-spot with every thrust, not hilting once. He knew exactly how to make you feel good. You begged for him to go harder and he brought his hands up to your head, grabbing your hair and roughly pulling your back into his chest. You let your head fall into his shoulder as he continued fucking you, his arms holding you tight around your stomach.

You loved hearing the noises Max made. There was something so satisfying about listening to the CEO of one of the biggest and reputable companies in the whole world, fall apart because of you. Because of your body. "Are you- fuck, you're close aren't you? I can feel it." Maxwell groaned and you whimpered back in agreement, letting your head lilt into the crook of his neck. "Baby girl, fuck you feel so good. So tight around me. Fuck."

"G-gonna cum," you gasped, trying to catch your breath.

"Me- me too," Maxwell replied through gritted teeth. "Can I, can I cum inside of you?"

"Fuck Max, you don't need to ask. Please. Please fill me up." You begged.

With only a few more thrusts, Maxwell came inside you, filling you with warmth and leaving you shuddering as you came down from your own climax. He stayed there for a moment, holding still inside you, wanting to make sure every last drop resided deep within you before he softened and slipped out of you. You moaned at the loss of his length. He turned you over on the bed and positioned his face in between your legs.

"What are you- what are you doing?" you asked him. Before you could say anything else, you felt him bury his thick index finger inside of you. "Fuck," you gasped. "Maaaaaax."

Max was watching your pussy intently, and as his cum began to drip out of you, he pushed it back in. "You're so perfect," Max said in admiration, still staring at your glistening wet folds. "You know that?"

"I can't wait to go home with you." you sighed as relief and contentment washed over you for the first time in forever.

"Can't wait to start a new life with you," Maxwell smiled and your mind buzzed with confusion. "You're all I need. This. This right here is what I need. My- my job has given me enough wealth to live more than comfortably for the rest of my life. I know that, no matter what, I will be able to provide for you. And for our children, and grandchildren, and great grandchildren…" Maxwell trailed off and you couldn't wipe the elated smile from your face.

"Children?" you asked him, eyes lighting up.

"Look at you," he grinned, a dimple appearing in his cheek. He pressed a soft, sweet kiss to the inside of your thigh. "I think you'd be the greatest mother in the world. You take care of me well enough, that's for sure. So kind. So gentle. Such a good heart. You make me into a better person. Our kids would be so lucky to have a mother like you. I want a family."

You sniffed, sitting up and shuffling toward him. "Oh Max, I love you so much." you gave him a teary smile before falling into his chest and curling up on top of him.

"I love you too, darling."

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord #max lord x reader

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crimescrimson · 4 months

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plainbrunettelbl · 4 years

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ABO (A) Rancher Bakugo Katsuki x (O) Mail-Order-Bride Reader Train Ride to a New Life (Chapter One)

Word count: 2417

Warnings: Mentions abuse and animal abuse.

Title: ABO (A) Rancher Bakugo Katsuki x (O) Mail-Order-Bride Reader Train Ride to a New Life (Chapter One)

Summary: You need to leave your life behind and an ad for a mail-order bride sounds like just the thing you need.

(Gif not mine)

💥-You lived a sad life.

💥-Your home life was less than best, your parents were both Alpha’s and they resented the fact that you presented as an Omega. You were met with harsh words and brutal punishments if you so much as knocked over a glass.

💥-It was only a few months ago when suddenly their tune changed. They were suddenly eager to have you around. Your mother had even taken up to brushing out your hair every night.

💥-As an Omega who was clearly touched starved your entire childhood you enjoyed it immensely.

💥-Even though you enjoyed it you were still put on edge. What had caused their sudden change of heart? Why was your father suddenly buying you nice dresses and ribbons when he barely spent a penny on your clothes before?

💥-You were used to the dull and slightly scratchy clothes that you wore when cleaning and cooking. They were a little well-worn but they got the job done. Your mother wouldn’t even allow you to be seen in them.

💥-She had taken to locking them up in the trunk you kept by the bed.

💥-It was only when you were dusting your father’s study that you came upon a letter. It was to the town mayor, it revealed that your father planned to sell you off to the mayor’s son.

💥-Your heart stopped in horror.

💥-You clutched the duster close to your chest, your hands nearly white. You tried not to leak out your horrified scent. You knew if they knew you had found of their plan they wouldn’t hesitate to chain you to your bed.

💥-The mayor’s son was a menacing Alpha. In your childhood, you had seen him fling rocks at the poor crows at the schoolhouse. He was quick to pick on the smaller children as well.

💥-He had bullied you but stopped after you sunk your teeth into him once. You remember his cold eyes glaring into yours as he promised that he would get you back. This was clearly his way of getting revenge.

💥-You knew all of the girls that had started courting him. His status gave him a long line of suitors but each and every one of them didn’t stay long. You had heard whispers of some of the Omega’s going back to their parent’s house with purple bruises.

💥-Once the word spread, the townspeople were a little hesitant to send their Omegas to the mayor’s opulent manor that sat on top of a hill overlooking the town.

💥-You were quick to put the letter down on your father’s desk and fled the room. That was the last of your chores for the day so you went unnoticed as you laid in your nest. trying to calm yourself, for the rest day.

💥-You needed out of this town fast.

***

💥-You had overheard stories of mail-order brides. Omegas giggling in the isles of the town store about the possibilities of finding a strong Alpha over letters. You had just came in to pick up some much-needed flour and milk.

💥-“Jane just caught a train to the south. She found herself a handsome Alpha sheriff.” One of the Omegas giggled, absolutely scandalized by the topic.

💥-“I wish I was brave enough to go on a train and ride into the unknown like that.” The other sighed, fanning a handkerchief over her face.

💥-“Oh stop! Like I don’t know you are already courting the preacher from the next town over.” The Omega pushed her friend’s shoulder playfully.

💥-The conversation had planted a seed in your mind. The notice board was posted in the back of the store. While you were grabbing the flour you might have gazed at the adverts of men wanting a mate.

💥-You also might have memorized the address of the one that caught your eye the most. It was written by a rancher who needed someone to help around the ranch while he was out all day with the cattle.

💥-His ad was short and straight to the point. He wanted an Omega who would be comfortable living a farm life. He stated that if the bride was to arrive that he was willing to wait to bond until the bride was comfortable enough.

💥-If it didn’t work out and then he would send them back, paying for the travel expenses.

💥-The ad might have been on the short and straight side but it drew you in. As soon as you got home and completed your chores you were quick to go up to your room and draft up a letter.

***

💥-You knew it was a little bold of you to do but in the very first letter, you sent him a handkerchief you had scented. Usually, that would happen after a few weeks of correspondence but you were in a rush.

💥-In the letter on your father’s desk, you read that you only had one month before the mayor would make the announcement.

💥-In his first letter to you, he had sent you a handkerchief as well. You had to pick up the letter in secret. You didn’t want your parents finding out. You had told your mother that you were going out to pick wildflowers to set the table with at dinner.

💥-She had let you go without much argument.

💥-You quickly picked up the letter at the store. You were lucky that it was the sweet daughter of the owner who stood at the counter. You knew if either he or his mate saw you that gossip was quick to spread.

💥-The daughter was quick to lock her lips after she handed you your mail. You made a mental note to be sure to bring her a batch of cookies the next time you came around. After you left the store you walked into the nearby forest.

💥-You couldn't wait and hastily found a tree trunk to sit on. Flower picking would have to come later.

💥-Once you broke the seal your nose was invaded with a cinnamon scent. It was warm and comforting. Your Omega instantly let out a soft purr. You were glad you opened the letter here rather than in your house.

💥-There was no way your parents wouldn’t have noticed the Alpha’s scent.

💥-You only allowed yourself a few more whiffs before you have to put it away. You didn’t want it rubbing off on you. You were pleased to find out that he liked your letter and he was interested in writing some more.

***

💥-After a few weeks, Bakugo already sent you your train ticket. It was both exhilarating and frightening. You had packet your bag already. It held most of your old clothes and a few of the newer dresses your parents had gotten you.

💥-You know they wouldn’t be practical to take them. You were gonna be living on a ranch after all. You secretly sold some of the more expensive ones to have money for the journey down south.

💥-With a heavy breath and beating heart, you looked at your house one last time before setting off on your trip. Your heart ached but it was better than staying here and being bonded to such a cruel Alpha.

***

💥-The journey wasn’t as exciting as you expected it. Soon the train was pulling up into the station and your new life was waiting for you by a horse and wagon. You could have picked out his scent among a crowd of people.

💥-Only a few people got off at the stop so you didn’t have to look hard. You spotted his black cowboy hat before he lifted his gaze and his crimson eyes connected with yours.

💥-You felt the air in your lungs leave you.

💥-He was truly a ruggedly handsome rancher. He looked like he didn’t play around and worked from dusk till dawn. He was quick to come towards your side and grab your bag.

💥-“I hope the train ride wasn’t much trouble. Damn things are always running into trouble nowadays.” His voice was husky, his eyes staring straight ahead as he walks to his wagon to store your suitcase.

💥-“It was quite alright.” You tried not to squeak out, your heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

💥-“That’s good.” He commented, before lifting his calloused hand up to help you onto the buggy.

💥-Your hands tingled where they touched, you held back your blush as you hop aboard. With a slight cough, you straightened out your dress before sitting.

💥-Bakugo was quick to climb in and get the caramel-colored horse moving.

💥-“When we get back to the ranch I will carry your stuff inside and show you to the guest room. I am sure you are tired after the long trip.” He addressed, his eyes focused on the dirt road.

💥-“That sounds lovely.” You hummed, allowing yourself to sink into the wooden seat.

💥-He coughed, his eyes shifting around a bit.

💥-“I have laid a few blankets on the bed. You can pick a few and leave the ones you don’t like outside the hall.” He stumbled, a slight flush coming up on his cheeks.

💥-Your Omega was already set on bonding with him. He had already caught her heart but he still needed to catch yours.

💥-“Thank you.” You replied, giving him a small smile.

💥-“It’s nothing.” He muttered, he ushered the horse to go faster.

***

💥-Walking into the room you spotted said blankets stacked on the bed. You all but melted at the sight.

💥-“I still have some chores I need to do around the ranch. Make yourself at home. I don’t want you cooking supper tonight. It was a long journey. I will.” He informed, laying your suitcase on top of the trunk at the end of the bed.

💥-You were stunned by his statement.

💥-An Alpha, in the kitchen? Your mother didn’t even dare go near the stove. The only time you saw your father in the kitchen was when he was showing it off to guests.

💥-“O-okay.” You stuttered, still in shock.

💥-“Alright.” He nodded, before heading back downstairs and out the door.

***

💥-You sat at the dinner table looking at the steak and potatoes steaming on the plate. It looked delicious. Your mouth was starting to water.

💥-“It looks good, Alpha.” You commented, eyes still on your plate.

💥-Bakugo nearly choked on is steak at his title coming out of your mouth. He hadn’t been around a lot of Omegas so he was definitely gonna have to get used to having one around.

💥-His Alpha all but panted at keeping this sweet-smelling Omega under his roof.

💥-“Ya, well, I am used to cooking for myself so it was no trouble.” He rumbled, lift his cup to his lips, hoping the small amount of ice in it would hide his reddening cheeks.

💥-“Mmh! Maybe we should swap recipes! I can’t imagine making a steak this good.” You hummed, chewing the tender meat.

💥-You were literally trying to kill the poor Alpha. Your sweet sounds and gentle praise was enough to bring him to his knees. His Alpha was pawing at him, wanting him to bond you right this second.

💥-He shrugged his Alpha off, he said he would wait and he was a man of his word.

💥-“I am sure I could show you a few things.” He commented, swallowing his food and hoping it would distract him from your sweet form.

💥-“Sounds fun!” You beamed, taping a napkin to your face. You couldn’t help but let out a gentle purr.

💥-Lord help him.

***

💥-It had been a fun two weeks of getting to know each other. He had given you a tour of his land. It was quite breathtaking. Grassy fields as long as the eye could see.

💥-He even introduced you to his barn animals.

💥-“We have three horses as of now. Make sure to keep away from Fred over there. He likes to chew on hair.” He pointed to the black stallion.

💥-You nodded, already taking a step away from the animal.

💥-“We have a few hens. If you would like, one of your chores could be harvesting the eggs in the morning.” He offered, his eyes looking at his small hen house.

💥-You were dressing in one of your fancier gowns and he was having a hard time to keep his eyes to himself. Your hair was down it flowed beautifully around your face.

💥-You were shined brighter in the sunlight. He knew he could grow old looking into those eyes.

💥-“I think I can do that.” You agreed, peering over the fence that held the feathery animals.

💥-“Good.” He had a small smile, enjoying the wonder on your face.

***

💥-You thought it was time to make your intentions clear. You had felt comfortable in the Alpha’s presence and didn’t want to leave his side anytime soon. You could see yourself raising pups in this house and wanted to make sure he knew that too.

💥-So you thought up a plan.

💥-Dressed in only your nightgown you made your way to his bedroom door. Hopefully, it would be your bedroom too if it went well. You gently knocked on the door.

💥-You hoped he wasn’t already asleep.

💥-You heard heavy footsteps making there way to the door. Your heart fluttering at each step. He pulled the door open.

💥-“Is something wrong, Omega?” He peered down at you. His Alpha lifting his head.

💥-“I wanted to know if I could have one of your pillows, for my nest.” You shuffled your feet, not brave enough to look at his eyes but instead looked at his eyebrows.

💥-You noticed them shoot up in surprise.

💥-He stood up straighter his eyes admiring your flush cheeks and soft face. This was finally happening. He longed for a mate for so long. Being a rancher was a lonely life but now he was gonna be sharing it with you.

💥-“Of course, Omega.” He walked to his bed a plucked the plumpest looking one off it.

💥-He made sure his arm wasn’t shaking when he passed it over to you.

💥-“Thank you, Alpha.” You chirped, deciding to do something bold.

💥-Quick on your feet you lifted yourself to meet his cheek and placed a kiss there. You were quick to retreat to your room after that. You left your stunned Alpha in the hall.

Ah! I was so nervous writing this. I haven’t come across any fics like this. The only other one that was kinda similar was in the Marvel universe and it wasn’t mail order bride based.

I hope you guys like it. Thoughts? I can totally see myself writing for this AU again.💕💕

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and-claudia · 11 months

Text

His Heir pt. 36 (Darth Maul x pregnant! reader)

Warnings: none I don't think

Word count: 1483 (sorry it is pretty short)

Taglist sign up

gif not mine

Saying goodbye to Dasar was a bit awkward the next day. But I managed through it with the promise that we would see him in a couple of weeks for his wedding.

The next few days felt weird because all of a sudden there were so many people congratulating me on our son. Don’t get me wrong I was flattered but this didn’t happen when we announced the pregnancy itself, only when we announced it was a boy. Currently, Maul and I were sitting at the table, eating dinner. I could feel Maul’s eyes on me as I just picked at my food.

“Are you alright dear?”

I nodded but didn’t look up. I was too lost in my own head. The sound of silverware clinking against the porcelain of the dinner plate made me look up at him.

“You’ve barely eaten. Are you sure you feel alright?” He pressed.

“I feel fine.” I mumbled, averting my eyes back down.

“Yn, please don-”

“I said I’m fine, Maul!” I snapped.

I regretted it the moment I raised my voice. But I had been stewing in my anger all day and it finally just broke loose.

“I’m sorry.”

Maul shook his head, “It’s alright, dear. Can you just tell me what’s bothering you so I can help?”

I sighed, “People keep congratulating me on our son…”

The ridges where his eyebrows would be knotted together in confusion, “And that’s a bad thing?”

“I mean no… not in itself. But when we first announced that I was pregnant with your heir, the only people that congratulated me directly were my friends that I worked with. But now that everyone knows it’s a boy, anyone and everyone seems to have something to say about it. It just makes me feel like if it had been a girl she wouldn’t be getting the same attention. And I know it’s silly because it’s not a girl… but then I go down the wormhole of what ifs… like what if later on we decide to have a second child, and it’s a girl. She wouldn’t be your heir but she’d obviously be a part of Crimson Dawn would she get the same recognition and respect as our son? Like I said I know it’s silly to be getting so worked up over what-ifs but I can’t help it.” I explained.

“It’s not silly at all.” Maul was quick to shut down that worry, “I will put an end to this first thing tomorrow morning.” He vowed, “I love that you care so deeply for our son already. And it’s endearing that you’re already thinking of the future of our family.”

I only nodded, not really wanting to discuss it further. I really just wanted to go to bed honestly.

“I’m going to go shower then lay in bed.” I said quietly, pushing my plate forward.

Maul nodded, “Once I finish, I’ll clean up out here then come to bed, alright?”

It was my turn to nod as I pushed my chair back and stood up to walk to our bedroom. I took a quick shower, the thought of the soft pillows under my head spurred me on to wash up quickly. When I got out I grabbed my robe and tied it above my belly before walking out to grab something to sleep in. I was already half asleep when Maul slipped into bed beside me.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that I was waking up. Though I was no stranger to waking up in the middle of the night. However, it was usually because I suddenly had gotten too warm under the blankets and next to Maul, or because the baby was in a weird position making me uncomfortable. Not this time, this time when I woke up I had one thing on my mind: I wanted- no I needed chocolate.

Why of all things was I wanting that? Chocolate was typically pretty rare in this part of the galaxy. I wasn’t even sure if we had any here. Hell on Mandalore I had only had it on rare occasions. I pushed myself to sit up and took a second to consider if I was really about to do this.

Yup. I was.

I pulled the fluffy comforter off my legs and turned to get up out of bed. I tried to do so as quietly and gently as possible so as to not wake Maul. Once I was on my feet I turned to check if I was successful, and luckily I was, he was still asleep. I walked out of our room and across the quarters to the kitchen. Then my search began.

I was in the middle of checking the second cupboard when Maul appeared at the other end of the kitchen island.

“Yn, what the hell are you doing?” He asked.

I turned around slowly. I felt like a small child who had just gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Looking for something?” It came out more as a question rather than a statement.

“For?”

“Chocolate…”

“Why?”

“I need it.”

That made him laugh a little as he realized what was going on.

“There is none in here.”

His words nearly sent me into tears. The craving had gotten so bad at this point that it felt like I would do just about anything for even just a piece of it.

“But I believe there is some in the main kitchen. Let me check.” He said, grabbing one of the abandoned datapads from the island.

I walked over to one of the stools at the island and planted myself there as he typed.

“They have some. Anything specific you want?” He asked.

I shook my head, “As long as it is or has chocolate, I don’t care.”

Maul hummed in response and finished typing a few things before he set down the datapad and came over to take a seat beside me. As he passed me, he paused to wrap his arms around me from behind and pressed a kiss to the side of my head.

“You know you could have woken me up?” He said as he sat.

“I know… But one I didn’t want to bother you and two I really didn’t consider that. I really felt like I might have started committing crimes if I didn’t get to some chocolate soon.” I joked.

“Should I be worried about my safety until it gets here?”

I pretended to think about it, “No. You’re safe. Knowing that it’s on the way is already making me feel better.”

“Good.”

“I really don’t know what came over me. Like yeah, I’ve had some cravings already but they have never been that intense. It was crazy.” I explained.

Maul nodded and thought for a moment before answering, “I am in no way saying this to harp on you, just an observation. But part of that may be because you didn’t eat dinner.”

“I didn’t even think of that…”

“It’s okay. Once you get your fix, I saved your plate if you want to eat something.”

I nodded, “That’s probably a good idea.”

Soon there was a knock on the door and my face lit up as I looked over to Maul expectantly. He let out an amused sigh before he got up and went to the door. When he returned he had a platter with various chocolaty items on it. Before he even set it down I had already plucked a piece off of it.

I involuntarily let out a moan as I tasted it.

“Never thought I’d be jealous of a piece of chocolate.” Maul said, amused as he went over to the fridge to get out the dinner he had saved.

He began heating it up while I sat and ate a few more pieces to get the fix that I needed at the moment. Then once the food was actually ready I swapped the plater for the plate and Maul saved the rest of it just in case the craving happened again.

Once I was done eating, I was tired once again.

“Shall we head back to bed, dear?”

I nodded and he helped me stand from the bar stool before leading me back to the bedroom.

When I woke up the next morning it was way later than I was expecting. But it was okay considering I didn’t have to work today. Neither did Maul so when I found the rest of the quarters empty I was confused. That was until I saw a note written, hastily, on a piece of flimsy.

Had to go to a last-minute meeting.

That was a little weird, even last-minute things, he would usually make me attend. I brushed it off, he probably just wanted to me to get some extra rest. And besides this would be a one-time thing, right?

taglist:

@lunanightguard @moonsua1

@mimisalad @satanlovedays @yondus-girl

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#star wars #starwars #darth maul x reader #darth maul #darth maul imagine #maul x reader #darth maul x reader smut #darth maul x pregnant reader #darth maul smut #maul x reader smut #darth maul x you #maul x pregnant reader #his heir #darth maul his heir

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

Sometimes - SEUNGMIN

Angst. Angst galore. I beg you please, please, PLEASE check the triggers before you read this - it is part of my zombie apocalypse universe for Golden Child and as such, there is a LOT of blood, gore, and death.

Another brief note - I mention other members here, but that is no guarantee as to whether or not they’re dead or alive by the end of the series :) so don’t make any assumptions except on one obvious character skjnkgh

ps what the fuck is up with the lack of usable gifs of one bae seungmin on this site I'm disgusted

Pairing: Bae Seungmin x gender neutral!reader

Genre: angst, zombie apocalypse!au

Triggers: semi-graphic depictions of death, blood, gore in general, allusions to suicide, suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 1.8k

Sometimes, Seungmin needs a reminder that he is still alive.

Golden Child Masterlist

Sometimes Seungmin wakes up and he’s on the ground because at some point during the night, sleeping on even a thin mattress felt so alien on his back that he had to roll off onto the floor. Sometimes he wakes up and looks around and suddenly he’s back home (is it still home, if it’s been years since he left?) but in an unfamiliar house, scanning the windows for any semblance of white skin veined with black, hungry eyes peering in through the glass.

Sometimes Seungmin wakes up and he isn’t a singer, isn’t an artist who plays for the masses on his old guitar, but a survivor instead, unable to eat more than half a granola bar for breakfast because that’s all he ever had to eat for months. Sometimes he wakes up and forgets to brush his teeth even though the bathroom is right there because he didn’t have a toothbrush or toothpaste, much less the water to flush out his mouth when he was on the run.

Sometimes Seungmin wakes up and all he can see are two bodies full of blackened, bloody bites, dried crimson pooled next to bullet holes in the sides of two heads with guns lying nearby because they chose to die rather than condemn themselves to an existence manned by a flesh-seeking daze. Sometimes he wakes up and can’t register your sleeping body next to him, warm, alive, because all he can smell is decomposing flesh and all he can see is death and all he can feel are cold, clawing hands dragging him down, down, down into flames that char his skin until you shake him out of his haze (assuming you aren’t having a nightmare of your own) and remind him that there is still life buried beneath the ashes.

Sometimes Seungmin wakes up and nothing is okay.

Those days, his fingers tremble on his worn guitar. The strings feel strange beneath his skin – it doesn’t matter that he’s been playing this same instrument for years and counting. Those days, his head is empty and full all at once, the smell of decomposing bodies everywhere no matter where he locks himself away. Those days, his eyes grow wild and haunted at the slightest touch – a hand too warm reminds him of Donghyun’s fever, a bead of blood brings back Jibeom’s old wound. He hangs onto life by a thread thinner than his guitar strings, which is ironic and depressing all at once because sometimes, the feeling of those same guitar strings digging grooves into his skin is the only thing that reminds him that he’s alive.

He finds a comment on his song calling him sensationalist. He finds another on an interview article that decries him a murderer of innocents (of course it doesn’t matter that these innocents were trying to kill him first). People walk around him on eggshells, not daring to touch, speaking in quiet tones so as not to set him off but all Seungmin wants is for people to shout, to yell, to tell him or show him they’re alive by the sound of their voice or the subtle warmth of their skin because on days like these, everyone looks like a walking corpse and Seungmin thinks he’s dead.

Maybe he should be dead. Some people certainly seem to think so. He’s killed, murdered, admitted to it, even. He’s written songs and spoken in interviews about holding the gun, pulling the trigger, watching bullets split heads of wild hair and shrunken eyes, shooting people who asked, pleaded, begged for it because they didn’t want to die of the bite on their skin, they just wanted to finally be at peace –

But a murderer is a murderer, no matter how noble his intentions.

Seungmin folds himself in, those days, clutches his guitar even if his fingers can’t strum the strings, holding onto a piece of existence that feels real, that feels real, that he knows has to be real because he bought it when he was alive, fully, wholly alive. He knows he was alive. He knows he was alive. He knows he was alive because you were there and you were alive, standing next to him at the counter as he paid his hard-earned money for the beat-up guitar, holding his hand on the walk back home.

Home. That’s a tricky word right there. One syllable, four letters, easy enough to say but harder to define. Where is home? Is it in the house he left behind, always believing he would see it again before the virus outbreak? Is it in the apartment for which he never paid his last month’s rent, money rendered unnecessary after death crashed over the city in waves? Is it in the university hospital where he spent half a year, working alongside surviving friends to save as many injured as he could despite the fact that his hands were those of an artist and not a doctor, just to give them a better chance at life when they inevitably went on west?

Maybe those were homes, temporary homes where he felt, even if only for brief moments in time, accepted. Cared for. Loved. People helped him heal there, washed deep wounds with clutched hands and warm hugs, occasional kisses on the forehead from those he loved the most.

But the people were the permanent homes, the homes that stayed with him even after the buildings went, even after they themselves went. Some have stayed while others have gone, but they all reside in his heart, and on days when everything is wrong and nothing is okay and Seungmin can’t remember what it feels like to be alive, he reaches into the recesses of his memory and counts them, one by one.

Mom. Dad. Seungho. Yerim. All lost in the first outbreak, barely weeks after the initial explosion. He cried so much after that initial phone call that by the end of the day, even ice couldn’t bring down the swelling around his eyes. Before Seungmin left the hospital for good, he went back to his old apartment and shoved a photo into his pocket, a photo of all five of them when everyone was still alive. He still has it – worn, crinkled, fading at the edges. It lives in his wallet, a reminder of times past, but also a reminder that they’re always with him.

Jangjun. Jangjun’s partner. Joochan. Youngtaek. He remembers his best friends and roommates from before the outbreak, people who loved him and whom he loved back. Their laughs cut through the groans and screams of death that play and replay in his ears, their smiles spilling pale light and warmth that wraps around his shoulders like a blanket or a shawl. Remnants of laughter settle in his skin and Seungmin is reminded of the first rays of dawn, the first rays of hope, cutting through a gray sky of death.

Donghyun. Jibeom. Sungyoon. Jaehyun. Without those Seungmin met during the outbreak, when he made his escape, he doesn’t know what he would do. They have held each other together, propped each other up on days when they have to clutch the backs of chairs so onslaughts of memories don’t pull them down, days when they forget that they’re safe, that they’re sound, that they can’t be hurt any longer by the gaping jaws of white faces marred with blackened veins. These four names have embedded themselves within his heart, burned their mark with so much warmth and love that there is no way he could forget them even if he ever wanted to (and there is no reason he ever would).

There are more names, so many more. Seungmin remembers them all, sifting them through them one after another, replaying his memories for every one. But always, always he puts one person last, a person with a name he clutches even tighter than he hangs to the thread of life, because without this name, this person, there is no life.

Y/N. Survivor. Healer. Partner, significant other, but so much more. Seungmin is a songwriter and has been for years at this point, but even now, he still can’t find the words to summarize your existence. You are more than life itself, an angel from the heavens to help him find his way through a world buried knee-deep in ashes and death.

You aren’t the end all do all, of course. There are days when even your voice can’t cut through the agonized screams playing on loop in Seungmin’s head. There are days when he can’t stand your touch, can’t process it without feeling the cold fingers of a dead man walking, reaching out with shriveled skin to clamp his shoulder and bite through skin. There are days when you sink into your own mind, eyes shut tight against memories painting the backs of your eyelids, screams building in your own throat and tears sliding down your face when you remember what you’ve had to do, what you’ve had to live through, what choices you made and regretted or didn’t regret but feel like you should –

But Seungmin never wanted a perfect solution, never even expected one. You are all he needs – flawed, imperfect, riddled with rips and holes in the fabric of your existence but still somehow whole. Living. Breathing. And even on his worst days, opening his eyes after reliving a haze of fire and ash to see your face, to feel your touch, to hear his name fall from your lips…

Seungmin feels a little more alive.

Sometimes Seungmin wakes up and the world feels like it’s splintering at the edges. He wakes up and everything is tinted red and black with blood he’s spilt and ash he’s burnt, and suddenly he’s back in the barren landscape of broken glass and abandoned buildings, paranoia throbbing in his lungs. Sometimes he wakes up with death painting his vision and memories caught in his throat, aching to release themselves in raw, choked scream, and the thread binding him to life begins to wither again, fraying at the ends from the fire of his memories.

And then your hand closes over his, reaching up to brush back his hair as the sound of his name from your voice pulls him out of the daze. Your touch coaxes his body out of the memories, fingers wrapping gently around the thread that anchors him to life and strengthening it with your love, with your warmth, lending Seungmin the knowledge that you are there. That you understand. That you will love him, always, mending his broken pieces and tying his threads together the same way he does yours.

It’s not perfect. It never will be. Seungmin is certain he will have flashbacks and breakdowns far into the future, and you’re of the same mind. The experiences you’ve had can’t be unseen or undone, ever. Neither of you even wants them to. But when Seungmin can’t handle remembering, can’t handle the flashes of gore and death that he had to see, even had to contribute to, the warmth of your touch helps him forget until he’s ready to remember again.

“I love you,” he whispers into your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist.

You lean back, kiss his forehead. Smile. “I love you too.”

Sometimes, Seungmin wakes up and nothing is okay.

You remind him that things will be, someday.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for things to be okay once more </3)

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jj-bxby · 4 years

Text

Where Do We Go? |Chapter One| JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary - Y/N is a Mainlander who has just moved to The Cut. When she meets her new neighbor, she just may have found the family she’s been searching for, and more.

gif credit @toesure

Warnings - None

Word count - 1.8k

A/N - This is the first fanfic I’ve written in about 3 years, so I genuinely hope you all like it! Gimme all of the three C’s: comments, concerns... cuestions. This is only the first part of the series, so if you would like to be tagged, just ask!

It’s never easy to start something over, especially when that ‘something’ happens to be your entire life.

If given the option, you would have left your home a long time ago, but there's only so much that a 17-year-old can do on her own. You smile drunkenly as you feel the summer sun shining on your skin, wind whipping your hair around your face wildly. The scent of the briny sea lingering in your nostrils as you pull into the road leading to your new home.

Outer Banks is supposed to be Paradise On Earth, and you can see why. After only being here for a few hours, you have already decided that you wouldn't really mind if you never leave this island again. A life on your own is what you’d always dreamed of, and you’re still a little dazed at the fact that it's finally your reality. After all of the sleepless nights consisting of fights, double shifts at the hotel near your house, and what seemed like an entirety of planning, you can finally go off on your own adventure.

You pull your car into the drive of the new home. Your new home. Cutting the ignition, you hop out of the beat-up Jeep and begin unloading your suitcases to bring inside. Off in the distance, you spot a group of kids that seemed to be around your age, all dancing to a beat blaring from one of their speakers. Beer cans were seized in each of their hands, and a joint was fixed between the lips of one boy. They all were giggling and chanting as a brunette boy tried to chug his drink, the booze dribbling out of the sides of his mouth and onto the grass. The happy sight made you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. You were such a straight-edge compared to these teenagers, never having had more than a sip of your mother’s wine while she wasn’t looking. Seeing them all with broad smiles plastered on their faces made you anxious, but yet something within you yearned to join them. To spin and howl and beam with all of them until the day turned into night, and the night turned into dawn. Maybe you would be able to fit in here after all, even if it takes some smoothing of your rough edges.

The group all looked in your direction after the dark-haired girl pointed you out, all of them pausing their twirling and jumping to acknowledge the new girl. They all give you a look of friendliness once your eyes meet, but the blonde with the joint flashed you a big smile and waved his entire arm at you, clearly wanting to be the center of attention. You felt your cheeks turn a shade crimson when you realized they were looking at you, but you give them a grin as you wave back before returning to pull all of your bags up to the front porch. You turned back to get one last look at the teenagers before you had to set foot in your house. The set seemed to have realized that the new neighbor may not want to hear their noisiness, as they had pulled their speaker and cooler a little ways away to the dock near a house, which you assumed had to belong to at least one of them.

Turning back to face your new front door, you took a deep breath to still your mind. This is it, this is your new beginning.

•

Okay, so unpacking is pretty damn boring as it turns out. And honestly, with weather this nice, how can I be expected to stay focused on a task that’s just so dull? I, at least, got my bags inside and some clothes placed in drawers, but it didn’t take long before my mind wandered and I step out into the backyard. This house may have seen some better days, but the view is to die for. Living life on a lake may not be ideal for everyone, but it is for me. Fishing, hammocks, and laying on a boat on a sunny day are all I could ever ask for. Even though I may not have a boat yet, I do have a hammock, and I’ll be damned if those aren’t good for some afternoon and I-have-a-lot-of-shit-to-do naps! I spot a couple of trees a few yards away from my new home to set up my new napping spot. After I finish tying off the support ropes into sturdy(ish) knots, I crawl into the netted bed, only needing steadying myself by flinging my arms around once (which, might I add, is quite good by my standards). Finally being able to rest my body after all of the moving and anxiety of the day feels so lovely. With the glow of the soft evening sun warming my skin in small beams through the tree leaves, I hardly notice how heavy my eyelids become, and definitely don’t mind when I drift off into sleep.

My dream is filled with the small party of teens from earlier today, but this time I’ve joined them. Now, I’m jumping and cackling with all of them while sneakily stealing the snapback off of one of the boy’s heads. I’m giggling as I toss my arm around the dark-haired girl and blonde boy, turning to give him a cheeky smile as he looks to me. Suddenly, his face is all I see.

“Hi… Uh, hey? You awake?”

I rush to stand up and immediately regret it. As I try to get up, I end up flailing like a fish and tumbling out of the hammock, falling onto my back and groaning. I look up to see where the voice came from, and find blue eyes piercing into my own.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you like that. Here, can I help you up?” The boy asks, extending his hand to me. I gladly accept the help and get to my feet. I see that it’s now dark out and the stars are lighting up the night sky. “Again, I’m really sorry I scared you. But maybe be more careful next time getting outta that hammock, yeah? You kinda looked like a fish flopping out of water,” the boy chuckled, running his hand through his hair. Is it me being tired or… is he being extremely cute?

I gave him a little smile as my cheeks flush with color. “It’s alright, I’m not broken or anything. But, I do think that the least you can do for so rudely interrupting my nap is telling me your name.”

“Oh right,” the blonde chuckles, ”I’m JJ. My friends and I are actually throwing a kegger tonight at the boneyard, and I was trying to be neighborly and invite you. You know, make friends and all? You seem about our age, sixteen or seventeen, right? Life here is much easier with friends, you know. Oh!” JJ exclaims, “Do you know where the boneyard is?” He questions. When I shake my head at him, he grins at me mischievously. “Shame. Guess I’ll have to drag you there so you can join in. But first, I’ve gotta get your name.”

“Y/N,” I respond while smoothing down my hair and picking a few pieces of dirt from it. “But ‘The Boneyard’ sounds pretty ominous, what kinda place are you taking me to? And I don’t even know you or your friends, really. So how do I know you’re not just kidnapping me?”

JJ reaches over and pulls a small twig out of my hair. “Well, Y/N, I don’t know you. How do I know you aren’t some kind of axe murderer? Besides, do I look like I need to kidnap a girl just to get her attention?” JJ asks me with a smug look on his face.

“Touché, JJ. I guess I can come to this ‘boneyard’ with you.” JJ holds his hand out to me for a high-five, grinning wildly. I roll my eyes and slap his hand weakly.

“Wow, I literally just felt myself become depressed from that high-five.”

I give him a little shove on the shoulder and start to walk ahead of him. “So, ya gonna take me to this “Boneyard,” or what?”

“Yes, however, you are going the exact wrong way.”

“Oh.”

“C’mon, doll.” JJ takes my small hand into his and starts off towards the Boneyard. From being a few steps behind him, I can just make out the outlines of JJ’s shoulder blades peeking through the sides of his cut-off tee. The heat rose to my cheeks, realizing that this incredibly attractive boy is now taking me to meet his – likely – equally attractive friends, and he’s a major flirt. How in the hell am I going to keep up with this man? Figuratively and literally, his legs are way longer than mine, and I’m practically stumbling over my own two feet just trying to keep the same pace as him.

“So, Y/N, you’re from the mainland, yeah?” The boy questioned, looking over his shoulder to check on me as I nodded to him. “What in the hell made you move to The Cut?”

“Um, well, that’s a bit of a long story as to why I moved. But, what’s The Cut? Is that what you call it here?”

“Well, The Cut is the south side of the island, its where all of us who’re in the working class live, The Pogues, if you will. Figure Eight is where all of the Kooks come from. Y’know, the ones who sit around and play with Daddy’s Money all goddamned day,” JJ spat out the last part. “I’m just wondering why you would choose to move to our side, especially when you had a choice in the matter. I grew up in The Cut — All of the pogues did. Why not go full Kook?”

“Well, back on the mainland I was from a working-class family. I dunno, I wouldn’t have fit in with all of the mansions, and country clubs, and board shorts, I don’t think.” I shrugged my shoulders at him, “I wasn’t made for that kind of life.”

JJ nodded understandingly before beaming at me, “Well, I think you’re going to fit in quite well here, Y/N.” The boy stopped walking and I came to stand at his side, our shoulders brushing against each other. “Welcome to the Boneyard, babe.”

It truly was a sight to see. Teens were sat on fallen driftwood, all huddled around different bonfires, red solo cups in hands. Odd mixes of sunburned kids, girls dressed in oversized tees and jean shorts, preppy-clothed boys all mingled together, seeming to put aside any inequalities just for the night. People drifted from group to group, some gathered at the keg, and some simply standing and chatting as they drank. I grinned at the view ahead, knowing this was only the first of many parties to attend. I look to my side to see JJ’s blue eyes focused on me, and I tried to swallow down the fluttering feeling in my chest.

“Let’s go warm up, yeah?”

•

@midnightmagicmusings

#jj x reader #outer banks #obx #jj obx imagine #jj imagine #jj maybank obx #jj maybank #jj x y/n #obx imagine #obx fic #obx x reader #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

Text

glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part five

summary: in the aftermath of hurricane agatha, the pogues are thrown into a mess none of them are ready to deal with. things that don’t exactly top sailor’s ‘fun things to do this summer’ list: surfing in the middle of a hurricane, getting punched in the face by a stupid kook, and stumbling upon a mystery that turns her and her friends into the damn scooby gang. when she said she wanted an exciting summer, she should’ve been more specific. 🙃

word count: 8.1k+ (it just keeps getting longer and longer 😅)

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings n stuff: mentions of abuse/neglect/gambling addiction, child abandonment, anxiety, self-worth issues, jj being both soft af and hot for his best friend, weed usage, underage drinking, unresolved sexual tension, sailor being thirsty, swearing, guns, fighting, blood, that one trope where two characters only call each other by their nicknames/last names until they don’t because of ~reasons~ that makes me lose my shit every time (like a lot of the obx fandom, i also headcanon that jj stands for jesse james), references to the three stooges (jj=moe, pope=larry, and john b=curly and that’s a fact lmao), to all the boys i've loved before, avengers infinity war, and david attenborough, and a line heavily inspired/influenced by taylor swift's "dress" (a song that happens to be on the playlist for this series)

a/n: we’re finally entering canon territory, y’all (with a few tweaks, of course!) but i’m determined not to make this a rehash/retelling word for word of the show ‘cause that’s just no fun, so expect smaller pieces (vignettes, i guess?) of storytelling as i expand on canon with sailor and the rest of the pogues. think of it like a mixtape of sorts, but with words instead of music if that makes sense lol. this part originally covered episodes one and two but i wrote so much that i had to split it, so we're just covering most of episode one for now (i still can't even believe how much shit actually goes down in the pilot lol). i was veryyyy excited to write the kegger at the boneyard 'cause some ~juicy~ stuff happens there lol. fun fact: the title of this part is a term used by surfers to refer to getting up at the ass crack of dawn to hit the waves. as always, this is unbetaed so any mistakes are mine. enjoy!

gif credit to @jj-maybnks

~Masterlist~

part five: dawn patrol

The next morning, Hurricane Agatha hits the island with all the force of a knockout punch; the sound of rain pounding against the roof echoes impossibly loud throughout the Chateau but Sailor’s bewildered shriek is even louder.

“You’re gonna what the what?!”

John B shrugs as the stunned redhead, lounging on the couch, looks away from watching the storm and fixes him with a wide-eyed stare.

“I’m gonna surf the surge.”

“Hell yeah, bro!” JJ yells from his spot as her footrest, punching his fist in the air and she sends him an exasperated look, both at his enthusiastic encouragement of John B’s downright moronic idea and the fact that she already misses the feeling of his thumb drawing circles on her bare ankle.

“Are you two insane?”

“Possibly.” John B states, grinning when JJ follows that up with, “Absolutely.” The blond boy pushes Sailor’s legs off his lap as he stands which earns him another displeased scowl from the redhead. “Come on, Sail. Live a little.”

“Oh, I’ll live alright, but you idiots won’t,” She takes his offered hand, letting him pull her to her feet and then down the hall after John B as she continues, “because this is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had.”

“See, this is why we keep you around,” He replies, laughing when she dodges his attempt to ruffle her hair and dashes forward to beat him to the spare room. “We do something stupid, you and Kie read us the riot act. It’s tradition.”

Sailor grabs her long-sleeved rash vest -if she’s going to sit on the beach to keep an eye on these fools in the middle of a damn hurricane, at least she’ll wear something that offers a little bit of warmth- and heads to the bathroom to change. “Yeah, and then I’m there to patch you up when you inevitably hurt yourselves.”

“Can’t help that you have that healing touch.” His cheeky response floats through the closed door and she catches herself smiling -wide and just a little bit sappy- in the mirror.

After a quick detour to pick up Pope, who’s already drenched from sneaking out his window, the pogues (sans Kiara who never answered John B’s text in the group chat and, knowing her parents, was probably on hurricane lockdown) head to the beach, where the rugged gray surf hammers against the shore with unrelenting brutality. Sailor trails behind the others as they grab their boards and make a break for the water, blatantly ignoring the barriers that read ‘beach closed’ in large, impossible to miss letters. A few hundred feet down the coast, she can barely make out The Sandbar all boarded up for the storm and she thinks of her mother, wondering if she's riding it out inside or at home; either way Carmen's all alone and Sailor's stomach twists with guilt, both for letting her phone battery die so she didn't have to answer her calls and for leaving in the first place, even though it was the right thing to do for her damn sanity.

“These signs are here for a reason, guys!” She calls over the howling wind, squinting through the rain at the rough waves with her hands tapping uneasily against her thighs. Watching John B run into the ocean with reckless abandon (Pope following with a little more caution, thankfully) immediately puts her anxiety on edge so she sits down heavily on the wet sand, wrapping her arms around the knees pulled to her chest and looks up at the blond boy who stayed behind. “Aren’t you gonna join the other stooges?”

JJ shrugs at her question, glancing out toward their friends before dropping his board to the ground and taking a seat behind the trembling girl, his chest to her back. “This one can’t just leave you hanging out here all alone, lookin’ all sad and shit. It’s kind of pathetic.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special, J.” She smirks and scoots back in the sand, lips curling into a full-fledged smile when he lifts his arms to drape them over her shoulders. As he tucks her securely against his front, the warmth of his body helps ward off the biting chill of the rain, and so does the fact that he knows her so well, that he knows this is exactly what she needs to help calm the panicking butterflies in her stomach.

He leans close, lips brushing against the shell of her ear when he whispers his next words like a secret, low and just for her even when there’s no one around to hear them. “Trust me, Sail, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

She suddenly finds those butterflies in her stomach fluttering for a whole different reason.

The Chateau sits in complete darkness, the power having been knocked out since they returned from dropping Pope off at his house that afternoon. Sailor thinks it’s about ten at night as she lies on her back on the mattress of the sleeper sofa, listening to the wind rip through the trees outside with Binx curled up at her feet. The spare room was way too hot without a working fan, even after she braided her hair off to the side and changed into a crop top and shorts, so she and JJ had returned to the living room where it was cooler, if only by a little bit.

John B has already retreated to his room for the night; he’d been acting quieter than usual since their little adventure at the beach but between a lantern-lit dinner of semi-stale cereal and passing a joint around, she never got the chance to ask if he was okay before he made his escape. JJ lies beside her with his limbs all askew and from the slow rise and fall of his bare chest she’s 99% sure he’s out like a light until, out of the blue, he mutters into the stagnant air, “Can’t keep your eyes off me, huh?”

She blinks heavily -that weed must’ve hit her harder than she thought because she hadn’t even realized she’d been staring- when he lazily turns his head to stare back, a halcyon grin on his face and in the dark, his pupils are blown so wide she can barely see the blue of his irises. Her hand itches with a longing to sweep that one stubborn strand of hair away from his forehead but instead she blindly slides it to the left until she finds his and holds on tight; his fingers automatically lace with hers even as the space between his eyebrows furrows and the smile falls from his lips.

“Sail?”

“I don’t think my dad’s ever coming back.” The redhead’s mouth blurts before her brain can catch up, heavy words lingering like a storm cloud ready to downpour. The thought had been weighing on her heart for a while now, from when she’d first suspected it two months ago, and it feels bittersweet to finally admit it out loud, even when she hadn’t planned doing it.

Her bedmate is silent for a long time as he looks at her through the shadows and she focuses on the touch of his palm against hers instead of the awful mounting pressure behind her eyes -hadn’t she promised herself she was done crying over her dad?- until he asks quietly, “Why? I mean, good riddance 'cause he's kind of the worst, but why?"

“A feeling,” She murmurs around the sudden lump in her throat, biting the inside of her lip hard enough that she tastes the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. “He...he usually comes back after a month or two but this time it’s been almost five.” A bitter laugh escapes from her chest and she shakes her head. “I guess he finally decided he’s done dealing with my worthless ass.”

JJ’s eyes flash like lightning as he rolls over to face her, the hand not entwined with hers reaching up to cup her cheek. “Sail, shut up. Don’t you dare say that.”

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s true,” She says sharply, words acerbic and biting and full of a self-hatred that’s been poisoning her heart ever since she was old enough -eight and far, far too young- to discern the way her dad’s love for her was fickle at best, non-existent at worst. “I could’ve been a better daughter- a perfect daughter- and he might still be here and my mom wouldn't hate me. I should’ve tried harder-”

“Jesus Christ, Sailor!” He interrupts, calloused yet gentle thumb wiping away the tears she just now registers sliding down her cheeks and the shock of hearing her full name come from his mouth makes the rest of her vitriolic thoughts fly out the window. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

The image of him blurs through the darkness in shades of black and she closes her eyes, jaw clenched in an attempt to quell the tremble of her lip as he goes on in his low, soft voice, “You should’ve tried harder to do what, huh? What could you have possibly done better?”

She’s quiet for a long time, so long that her tears run dry and all that remains is smeared salt on her skin because she doesn’t have an answer. What could she have done? That terrible thought in her mind rears it’s ugly head again, the one that tells her she’s not good enough, that everything’s her fault because she doesn’t do enough, but when she asks it what more she can do, there’s no reply. There never is.

“Hey, look at me.” She hears the rustling of sheets and feels his fingers slip from hers before they come to rest on her cheek, both hands now cradling her face; she opens her eyes to find him hovering over her and the sheer lack of distance between them makes her heart skip a beat. “You...”

“What about me?” Her voice cracks as she speaks and in a mirror of her from earlier, JJ shakes his head, causing that stubborn strand of hair to once again fall into his eyes.

“I wish you’d see yourself the way I do.”

Her breath catches in her throat. “And how do you see me?”

“Fucking amazing.” He says simply and in the dark, she can barely see the flush slowly starting to creep up his neck. “Smart, brave, and loyal as hell. A beautiful badass who doesn’t take shit from anybody. A girl who listens when someone needs to be heard.”

The redhead stares up at him with wide green eyes as he goes on and on, listing all these wonderful little things that her traitorous mind has a hard time processing, let alone believing; he really thinks about her like this? “You care so damn much,” “You’re kind but not afraid speak out,” “You’re the one I trust the most.”

Her hand slowly releases its tight grip on the sheets and slides up his bare arm, feeling the heat of his skin under her palm as she touches his face, not trusting herself to speak because she’s so afraid of saying something dumb or stupid and ruining everything ('like I always do,' her mind echoes).

“You’re my best friend, Sailor, and yeah, you’re not perfect. You drink and you smoke weed and you don’t get straight As in school but fuck, you’re real and so not worthless.” He says each word with such conviction that its impossible not to believe him, as much as her brain screams at her not to. “And I want you to know that what your parents think of you doesn't matter at all, got it?"

Without warning, she flings her arms around his neck and JJ loses his balance, falling onto her with a soft oof of surprise but Sailor doesn’t even feel the extra weight as she rests her face against his shoulder and finally finds her voice. “Thank you.”

He takes her with him when he rolls onto his side, arms wrapped tight around her waist and nose buried in her messy braid. “Just...trying to do the right thing, I guess. For once.”

She pulls back at his words, then leans forward and slowly presses her lips to his flushed cheek, just missing the corner of his mouth. She lets them linger for a beat longer than necessary before leaning back -not too far, just enough- and looking him in the eye. “Thank you, Jesse.”

He usually hates being called by his first name (she found that out pretty quickly into their friendship, “never call me Jesse” being one of the first things he ever said to her) but he just looks at her with a soft, endearing smile on his face as he leans back onto the bed, once again bringing her with him. “Promise me something, Sail?”

She glances up at him from his shoulder and meets his eyes. “Yeah?”

His fingers tuck an escaped red curl behind her ear. “Just...be you. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.”

She wishes it were that easy, that she could just step inside her mind and flip a switch and she could stop all those thoughts that’ve plagued her for years but it’s not. It’s gonna take time -time and a lot of patience and maybe even a miracle- but damn it, she’s gonna give it her all, not just for herself but for him and the rest of the pogues, too, the best friends she's ever had, so she nods and settles back down at his side. “I’ll try my best, J.”

“I know you will.”

"Sail, you're the best swimmer out of all of us. Think you can dive down there and check it out?"

The redhead peers over the edge of the HMS Pogue and into the water, where the murky shape of the sunken Grady-White sits thirty feet down on the bottom of the marsh, then nods at the rest of the pogues, an excited grin on her face.

"No problem," She answers John B, hopping up onto the very tip of the boat's bow with practiced ease before diving headfirst into the water to JJ's yell of "diver down!" It's dirtier than usual because of the hurricane but she doesn't let that stop her as she swims down and down until she reaches the top of the boat and pulls herself the rest of the way onto the deck, carefully scanning the area for...fuck. Honestly, she's got absolutely no clue what she's looking for but she assumes she'll know when she sees it.

'It' turns out to be a motel key, resting all alone on the floor by the steering wheel and she quickly reaches out to snatch it, sliding the silver key ring around her finger securely. When she pushes off toward the surface, she leaves the ghostly Grady-White behind with more questions than answers.

The rest of her friends are lined up in a row along the boat's railing, all staring at her with near identical expressions of anticipation as she breaks through the water and holds the key aloft with a triumphant smile.

"The Summer Winds Motel called, they want their key back!"

A little later that evening, Sailor would really regret finding that damn key but right now, she's having a great time dancing at the Boneyard with Kiara at the traditional post-hurricane kegger, second refill of beer in hand, spiked with Fireball from the flask tucked in her back pocket. To her, dancing's a lot like surfing -steady feet, swiveling hips, snapping shoulders- and she thinks that might be the reason she's so bad at it, anticipating the fluidity of water instead of the solidness of dry land. Or it could be that she just doesn't have rhythm when she's a little buzzed. That works, too.

"Ow, Sail!" Kiara winces as the redhead steps on her foot again, rolling her eyes fondly when she throws her head back with a loud, tipsy giggle.

"My bad, Kie!" She twirls in the sand, hair dancing around her shoulders like fire, and finds herself spinning right into a herd of dancing tourons, all too drunk to care that she's spilling her beer all over their feet. Large, olive-skinned hands grab her waist to spin her again and she laughs, smiling over her shoulder at a cute dark-haired touron as he slides one palm over to settle against the bare skin of her lower back. She pushes one hand on his shoulder with just enough resistance that he doesn't get too close into her personal space as he leans in to speak in a low Southern drawl, brown eyes turned a pretty bronze in the glow of the nearby bonfire.

"This probably isn't the best thing to say to a beautiful girl but you kind of dance like a giraffe."

Sailor bursts out laughing at that. "Hey, I think giraffes are very elegant creatures so I'll take that as a compliment!"

The boy grins and she smiles, too, letting him take her free hand and pull her into the throng of dancing bodies. He's almost as bad a dancer as she is but he's fun to talk to and together they gleefully show off their worst moves until their feet hurt -she's lost count of how many times she stepped on his toes- and her solo cup is empty. "Come on," She says and this time, she's the one to grab his hand and lead him over to the closest keg, where John B's dishing out beer with an expert flourish.

"'Sup, Sail," He lifts his chin in greeting as he fills her cup, smirking when she immediately pulls out her flask and adds a long pour of Fireball on top. "Who's your friend?"

"JB, this is Adam, he's visiting from Tennessee. Adam, meet John B, one of my best friends and a total moron," She makes quick introductions, smiling into her drink as he scowls and playfully sprays some beer at her feet before filling another cup and holding it out to the other boy with a jab at her expense.

"Be careful around her, man. She's a handful."

The touron accepts the drink with a shrug and a quick wink in her direction. "Good thing I happen to like 'em a little crazy."

Ugh. More than a little miffed at that, she rolls her eyes and takes a long sip of beer to hide her annoyance when Adam laughs and slings his arm around her shoulders. Calling her a giraffe was actually kind of cute in a very weird, endearing way but he instantly lost whatever points he had with her the second that 'c' word came out of his pretty mouth. She glances around the Boneyard while the boys start talking about surfing (she scoffs to herself, what does a farm kid from Tennessee know about that?), scanning the crowd for the rest of her friends and a chance to ditch him. Kiara's sitting on a big piece of driftwood, chatting up a stunning, deeply tan girl with glossy black hair -she waves when their eyes meet and shoots Sailor a cheeky grin before returning to her conversation- while the ever awkward Pope seems to be stuck in the middle of one of his rambles about autopsies as he stands around the fire, the willowy blonde beside him looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. She'd deliberately lost track of JJ a while ago, after she watched him getting a little too close to a tiny brunette, his hand low on her back as she passed him a drink and ran her fingers up his bare arm, coaxing that killer smile of his onto his face (that girl may have gotten his smile but Sailor got his eyes and they watched her until she pointedly turned away).

Honestly, she's a bit -okay, a lot- peeved. Here she is, thinking that they're the closest they've ever been before (they've always been close, ever since that day in sixth grade, but this is a whole different kind of close), and just when she feels like she may finally be ready to admit some things, some feelings, he's off doing who knows what with another girl; to be fair, she's off with another guy that she'd, until a minute ago, fully planned on kissing, but that's only because of him! Him and some weird need she has to keep him looking at her, to make him jealous -she shakes her head and takes another swig of her whiskey-spiked beer. Nope, nope, not gonna think about that.

Poor Pope looks like he's really struggling so Sailor pushes all thoughts of her blond best friend from her mind and goes to rescue him, ducking out from under Adam's sweaty arm and walking away without a backwards glance, ignoring the confusion in his voice as he calls her name. She pushes through the crowd to her friend and steps right in front of the girl he's trying to talk to, grabbing his hand with her free one.

"Come dance with me?"

The smile of pure relief that breaks out over his face makes her own widen as he lets her pull him back through the mass of bodies to a less-crowded part of the make-shift dance floor, the tension bleeding out of his hunched shoulders with every step.

"You're an angel, Sailor."

She laughs and wraps her arm around his shoulders, leading him in a carefree twirl across the cool sand. "Tell me something I don't know."

Like a leaf caught up in a whirlwind, he's helpless to resist her infectious joy as they dance, grinning like fools and poking fun at each other; for a while, the redhead tries to forget about stupid, clueless boys and focuses on Pope who, while still a clueless boy, doesn't expect anything from her but pure, unconditional friendship that she's all too willing to give (although she did have a teensy little crush on him when they first became friends, she got over it pretty fast the second he started talking about the bodily functions of dead bodies in explicit detail). She shares her drink with him, giggling at the way his face morphs from curiosity to disgust to delight at the taste of her cinnamon beer concoction and lets him down the rest while she drinks straight from the flask that she pulls from her back pocket.

"You've got a shadow." Pope says, slightly nodding his chin over her shoulder and she takes his hand again, slowly spinning herself under his arm to take a quick glance, rolling her eyes when she spots Adam staring at her from the edge of the crowd. "You know him?"

"Unfortunately. Thought he was cute, then he called me crazy." She tucks the whiskey away with a shrug at her friend's sympathetic wince, then steps closer to him and raises a conspiratorial eyebrow. "Wanna help me tell him to take a long walk off a short cliff?"

"Uh-"

"I think I can help with that," A familiar voice cuts off Pope's reply as JJ suddenly appears at her side, slipping his hand into her back pocket to spin her right into the circle of his arms before he plucks the flask from the other and takes a big sip in one smooth kinda sexy move. "Straight Fireball? Damn, Sail."

The redhead carefully schools her features into a blank mask but her body has other ideas, one hand instantly settling on his chest like it's second nature and her face flushing from more than just the alcohol as she casually replies, "You know I like things a little spicy." Completely aware of the way he's watching her every move, she snatches the whiskey back and downs the little bit that's left, trying and failing to ignore the thrill that shoots through her at those bright blue eyes of his darkening when her tongue darts out to lick her lips. Pope rolls his eyes at them both before muttering a quick 'see ya' and hastily melting back into the crowd.

"So, who're we telling to fuck off?" His voice is just a little strained and she feels her cool facade start to crack as she scowls, subtly tilts her head toward where Adam's still staring at her with an expression that looks like he ate a sour lemon. JJ spins her around to take a very conspicuous peek and her mouth curls into a grin, mask breaking completely when he shoots the touron a glare that screams 'try me, I dare you'; the heat from his hand still in her pocket burns as he leans in until his forehead rests on hers. "Let's give him a show."

Sailor hums and pretends to mull it over even as she coyly snakes her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, the harder panes of his body sliding almost sinfully against her softer curves as they sway together, "I don't know, you looked pretty cozy with that other girl earlier..." Is it kind of petty to bring it up? Yes, yes it is, but she can't resist toying with him like he did to her, just as she can't help the breathless gasp that escapes her lips when his fingers press hard into the toned flesh of her ass through her shorts.

"Why, Flynn, are you jealous?"

"Please, I saw that glare you gave him. If anyone's jealous, it's you, Maybank." She fires back while carding both hands through his hair and the pure gratification she feels at his slight shiver is nothing short of euphoric. Out of the corner of her eye, she barely takes notice of the frown Adam sends their way before he turns and stalks off toward the other side of the beach; honestly, she's so caught up in JJ and everything about him -the slow swing of his hips, the hands burning hot against the strip of her back exposed by her crop top, the darkened look in those ocean eyes- that she'd completely forgotten about the touron she danced with earlier in an effort to forget the boy she's dancing with now. She should've known it wouldn't have worked: Sailor could never forget JJ, no matter how hard she tries. He's like a permanent mark on her, a tattoo inked in gold, a beautiful, wonderous scar that she never wants to fade away.

"Seems like we scared him off so I don't have to worry about that anymore." His flushed face is so close she can feel his breath on her lips as he speaks and her eyes quickly flick down to his mouth on their own accord.

"And what about me?" She asks, twirling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, heart beating fast in anticipation as he smirks wickedly at the way her own face turns cherry red.

"Sail, babe, you don't have to worry about a damn thing."

All one of them has to do is tilt their head and everything will fall into place and she can once again know what it's like to kiss him-

"Let it go, Topper!" A sudden, annoyed shout breaks the two apart before they can close that final distance (Sailor's not sure who would've made the first move and she's both relieved and disappointed they won't get to find out), turning away from each other in tandem toward the gathering mass of bodies chanting 'fight, fight!' at the shoreline.

"JB, he's not worth it!" At the sound of Kiara's voice, they take off running across the sand and shove their way to the front of the crowd just in time to see Topper Thornton in all his frat boy glory get absolutely slammed with a hard punch to the jaw, courtesy of John B. The kook barely hits the ground before he's back on his feet and lunging forward to tackle him into the water, landing a hit of his own square in the eye.

"What the hell happened?" Sailor grabs Kiara's elbow and the dark haired girl looks at her with wide eyes as the boys continue to roll around, exchanging brutal blows while a stunned Pope watches from her other side.

"I don't even know, they just started wailing on each other!"

JJ stands silent to Sailor's right, jaw clenched and hands curled into fists as he stares at the brawl and she reaches over to wrap her fingers around his wrist, thumb calmly running circles on his skin.

"Top, seriously! Stop it!" Sarah Cameron stands in the sand just before the crashing waves, yelling furiously at her boyfriend and throwing her arms in the air when he ignores her. "What is wrong with you?"

The moment Topper lands three punches in a row on John B's battered face, Sailor decides she's seen enough. She rushes forward without thinking to grab the blond boy's arm, pulling as hard as she can in an attempt to get him off her friend and barely has time to register what's happening when the fist he was aiming at John B suddenly swings at her. It connects solidly with her left cheek and makes her stumble back, her hand flying to her throbbing face before she goes down hard onto her butt in the surf.

"What the fuck, Thornton?"

"Did you just punch a girl?"

"Ohhhh shit!"

A cacophony of voices yells from the shore as the kook boy stares down at her, momentarily stunned when he realizes who exactly he hit, and it gives John B an opening to wrestle him back into the water and land a solid punch right to his nose. Everything happens so fast after that that the redhead, still reeling in a wide-eyed daze, has a little trouble keeping up. First, Kiara and Pope splash through the waves to her side, kneeling down to help her to her feet with their arms around her waist. Second, Topper gains the upper hand and straight up tries to drown John B, holding his head under the water while Sarah screams at him to stop. And third, JJ -reckless, bold, protective JJ- pulls out that damn stolen gun, effectively bringing the whole mess to a grinding halt when he stalks forward and presses the barrel to the side of Topper's head.

"Your move, broski." He threatens and the beach is so quiet everyone can hear the click of the safety being switched off. The kook slowly raises his hands in the air and John B emerges from the water, stumbling forward onto his hands and knees with a horrible wet cough.

It's all too much for Sailor's poor tipsy self to take. The world spins beneath her feet as her head starts to pound and her shaking fingers fail to find purchase on Kiara's and Pope's shoulders.

"Guys, I don't feel so good," She manages to whisper and their looks of concern (the former) and panic (the latter) are the last thing she sees before her legs give out and everything goes black.

The first thing she registers is the pain that radiates from the left side of her face, her whole head throbbing with every beat of her heart and the sound of loud whispering right by her ear isn't helping at all.

"That's the best you can do, J? Seriously?"

"The power's out! I can't exactly pull ice out of my ass, Kie."

Something semi-cold gently rests against her cheek and she audibly sighs at the little bit of relief she feels, her hand sluggishly rising to hold it a little closer as she mumbles, "I wouldn't want your ass ice anyway." At least she tries to: her mouth feels like it's full of cotton and she's pretty sure the only thing that comes out is unintelligible gibberish.

Sailor opens her eyes and finds herself lying on her back on the sleeper sofa at the Chateau, a passed out John B to her right. Pope sits on the edge of the mattress by his side, holding a beer bottle to his friend's black eye and he sends her a relieved smile when he notices she's awake.

"There she is," JJ says from her other side and she turns to face him, not at all surprised to find him already looking at her, and the unabashed concern in his eyes sends a golden warmth through her whole body. Her fingers slip down the hand that's still holding the bottle to her cheek so she can run her thumb over the delicate bones in his wrist in a silent thank you.

A different, softer hand rests on her knee and she tears her gaze away from his face to smile at Kiara as she says, "Good to see you're okay, Sail."

The redhead sinks back into the pillow in embarrassment and covers her eyes with her free hand. God, she really passed out, didn't she? She passed out after taking one lousy punch to the face by a fucking kook, no less. How completely mortifying. She swallows thickly and sounds like a chain smoker when she says, "I'm so sorry, guys. I'm a total idiot."

The other three conscious pogues start protesting all at once -apparently there's many, many, different ways to say she's not an idiot- and the resulting volume of their combined voices is enough to make her headache even worse. She sits up and scoots back until she's propped against the couch and sets the now warm beer on the side table before massaging both of her temples.

"Will you please shut up, I can feel my brain beating in my skull."

For a second, there's wonderful, blissful silence and then:

"Holy shit, thank you," A groggy voice says to her right and she turns to watch a bleary-eyed John B claw his way back to consciousness. "You guys are fucking loud."

"He lives!" JJ shouts, ignoring the four glares sent his way and reaching over to clap his hand against the brunet boy's shoulder. "Welcome back, dude."

"Ugh," He suddenly rolls onto his stomach -Pope deftly catching the bottle when it nearly falls from the bed- and his muffled voice floats out from the pillow he shoves his head under like an ostrich in the sand. "Knock me back out."

"Aww, poor baby." Sailor gives his back a sympathetic pat and chuckles softly when he blindly feels around for her arm, pushing it away with another deep groan and a 'fuck off, Sail' that lacks any type of venom.

"Okay, now that you're both kind of conscious, let's agree that neither of you will ever fucking do that again. Got it?" Kiara addresses John B and Sailor as she stands from the bed and crosses her arms, fixing the latter with a piercing look that makes her feel like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar; she opens her mouth to defend herself but before she can say anything, Kiara turns her furious gaze to JJ and points an accusing finger at his face. "And you! What the hell were you thinking pulling that damn gun out, huh?"

"Jesus Christ, Kie!" He suddenly rockets to his feet and throws his hands in the air. "Sail got socked in the face and JB was getting fucking drowned, I wasn't really thinking much at all!”

The dark haired girl can't seemed to think of a response to that and looks away, staring at the floor with her jaw clenched as Pope, ever the mediator, rises to his feet, too, and rounds the bed to step between them placatingly.

"Let's just drop it for tonight, okay? They need to rest." He says, nodding toward the two still on the bed before wrapping his hand around Kiara's elbow and turning her toward the front door. She immediately pulls her arm from his grasp but still nods in agreement, the hard look in her eyes softening when she glances at her injured friends.

"Yeah, okay." She says and glances down at her watch, wincing when she catches sight of the time. "My parents'll kill me if I'm not home soon, anyway."

"Come on, I'll take you guys home." JJ says with a conciliatory look in her direction as Pope tosses him the Volkswagen's keys from his pocket and when she nods back, a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, Sailor knows that all is forgiven, at least for now.

"Are you sure you're good to drive?" She asks and immediately rolls her eyes at his sarcastic reply of "Yes, Mom," and the obnoxious wink he shoots her.

The trio leaves after a quick round of goodbyes and John B waits until he hears the sound of his van driving away before finally emerging from under the pillow and rolling onto his back.

"Sensing the immediate danger has passed, the ostrich cautiously pulls its head out from the sand..." She says in her best David Attenborough impression, laughing when he tosses the pillow at her head with an amused grin.

"Ha ha. I was trying to avoid getting a Kie lecture," He explains, running both hands down his face with a heavy sigh. "It feels like my head's gonna explode."

"You and me both, dude." She carefully probes at her swollen cheek and is more than a little surprised to feel the beginnings of a scab forming near her eye. She knew Topper landed a solid punch but she didn't realize how solid that hit was until now as she catches sight of the tiny bit of drying blood left behind on her fingertips.

"That looks like it hurts. You okay?" John B asks and she looks up from wiping her hand clean on her shorts, stiff from dried saltwater, with a wrinkle of her freckled nose.

"I'm alright. How about you? No offense but your eye looks like shit."

"I'll live." He answers with a shrug as he pulls himself upright on the mattress and leans his head against the back of the couch. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

He sluggishly turns his head to look Sailor in the eye and shrugs again. "For trying to help me out. Sorry I got you punched."

She smirks and reaches over to give his hand a brief, friendly squeeze as she replies, "It's not your fault I got myself punched. I'm sorry your ass almost drowned."

He snorts at that and she's relieved to hear it, knowing that he can still joke around and he's not, like, completely traumatized or something. Poor guy's already got enough to deal with without adding a mental breakdown to the list. She swings her legs over the edge of the mattress and slowly stands before taking a tentative step forward; when her knees hold and she doesn't fall flat on her face, she makes her way to his side and holds both hands out to him with a small, lighthearted smile.

"Yeah, you're delirious. Near death experiences do that to you." She says, helping him to his feet and, after looping his arm over her shoulders and sliding hers around his waist, the two teenagers carefully shuffle down the hall in the dim light of the emergency lantern on the kitchen table to his room, where she unceremoniously dumps him onto his bed. "Sleep it off. And for the love of God, please change. You smell terrible."

She goes to leave as he laughs again, tugging his shirt off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes near the closet before saying, "Hey, Sailor?"

The redhead pauses with one foot in the hall and leans against the doorframe. "Yeah?"

"You know you're a badass, right?"

She laughs and sends him a wink but her heart is oh so light as she turns and heads to the spare room, calling back over her shoulder, "Nice to see someone acknowledge it. Now go to bed!"

The sound of the Chateau's front door opening and closing startles Sailor awake and she blinks heavily, wondering when exactly she'd fallen asleep. Last thing she remembers she was staring out at the fireflies through the open window as she steadily ran her hand down the length of Binx's back and their ethereal glow, combined with the breeze dancing around her shoulders, must've pulled her right under. Down the hall, she hears a loud thump, followed by JJ cursing as he runs into something and she giggles to herself, rolling onto her side to face the hall. He appears in the darkened doorway a minute later, rubbing his knee with a scowl on his face and she laughs louder at his quiet, venomous hiss of "fuck that fucking chair."

"Rude. It's not the chair's fault you always run into it." She teases and he shoots her a flat, unamused look before turning to glance down the hall toward John B's room, his fingers holding tight to the door frame.

"He's okay, you know. Told him to get some sleep." His head swings to face her when she speaks with soft words and even in the dark, she can see the way his tense shoulders slowly relax and his hand loosens, falling back to his side as he nods, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"And you?" He asks, his eyes never wavering from hers as he kicks his boots off and pulls his shirt over his head; the sight of his messy hair and the muscles in his arms make it a little hard for Sailor to breathe, the gentle wind she once thought of as cool now doing nothing to help calm her flushed skin when she scoots over in bed to give him room to lie down next to her. Binx looks as disgruntled as a cat can look as he loses his comfy spot and jumps down from the bed, only to immediately leap onto the windowsill and stretch out.

"What about me?"

JJ rolls over to face her, reaching one hand up to cup her injured face and runs his calloused thumb under the cut on her cheekbone. "Are you okay?"

Nodding, she shifts closer and lays her head on his outstretched arm, covering his hand with her own and effortlessly fitting her fingers into the spaces between his. "I'm fine. Even better, now."

He leans forward to rest his forehead against hers. "Good, 'cause I don't know what I'd do if you weren't."

When those pesky butterflies come raging back with a vengeance, she realizes she's fighting a battle she hopes to lose.

The sound of a conversation in the kitchen, low voices drifting through the closed door of the guest room wakes Sailor early the next morning. Sunlight filters in through the windows and she squeezes one eye shut against the painful brightness, the other still squished into JJ's shoulder. His arm is a welcome weight slung over her hip and his deep, even breaths are soft against her forehead as he sleeps on, dead to the voices down the hall. With the corner of her mouth turned up in a small smile, she smooths his fine blond hair away from his face and runs her fingers along his jawline before carefully sliding out from under his arm and quietly heading toward the kitchen.

Pulling her hair into a messy ponytail, she rounds the corner and stops short when she catches sight of the person standing by the table, her cheerful 'good morning' getting stuck on her tongue; she was expecting Pope and Kiara, not the goddamn sheriff! Shooting John B a wide-eyed look that makes him shake his head (what the fuck did that even mean?!), the redhead forces a smile and hastily offers her a wave.

"Uh, good morning, Sheriff. Sorry to interrupt, just, uh, grabbing some water."

She just nods in acknowledgement before turning her attention back to the brunet boy and Sailor breathes an inaudible sigh of relief. Holy shit, is that woman scary. She heads to the sink and keeps one ear on the conversation as she quickly fills a glass with water and pops two aspirin, the headache from last night made even worse by the addition of a whiskey hangover.

"I didn't realize you had company, John B. Wild night?" The sheriff asks and Sailor meets her friend's eyes again, her anxiety rising when she sees his thinly veiled panic. Her back to Peterkin, she silently implores him to say something, anything -hell, she even tries to subtly mime surfing with her hands to help him out- but he stays silent, so she gathers her courage, plasters a smile on her face, and twirls to face her.

"Busy day, actually. We went surfing all day after cleaning up the yard." She says, jerking her thumb toward the heap of broken branches piled by the fire pit visible through the living room window; when the sheriff turns to look, she quickly elbows John B in the side, ignoring his huff of surprise as she nods her head in her direction.

"Yeah, surfing! All day." He blurts out, sending Sailor a lukewarm glare when she quickly mouths 'what the fuck was that?' before they both straighten up and spin back to the older woman just as she turns to face them again.

"Right." Peterkin hums and arches one eyebrow as she glances back and forth between the two teenagers. "Now tell me, how'd you both get those bruises? They look pretty painful."

"Oh, this?" Sailor asks, pointing at her cheek with a casual shrug, "I tried to hang ten and bit it pretty hard. My board caught me right in the face."

Peterkin looks at her for a beat longer than normal and the redhead does her best to keep her expression neutral as her palms start to sweat. "Surfing, really? Thought you were pretty experienced in that department."

John B adds, offering some much needed back up, "Even the pros wipe out every once in awhile, you know?" He crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. "My board got me good, too."

"Yeah, it just was not our day," She says with a nervous chuckle, refilling her water and slowly starting to back out of the kitchen, pretending she doesn't see the dismayed look her friend sends her way; her anxiety can't take another second of the sheriff's piercing gaze and she needs to get away fast, lest she start recounting every single second of their activities both legal and not so legal- from yesterday in explicit detail. "And I'm still pretty tired so I'm just gonna go back to bed for a bit. Nice talking to you, Sheriff."

After disappearing around the corner before either of them can reply, she creeps down the hallway, keeping her footfalls as light as she can, and she's so focused on trying to listen in on what Peterkin's saying that she runs smack into JJ, standing in the doorway of the spare room. His arm instantly darts out to wrap around her waist and pull her close, keeping her from falling right on her butt as he says, "There you are-"

"Shhh!" Sailor hisses quietly, covering his mouth with her hand, "The damn sheriff is here!"

He mumbles something into her palm but she she holds a finger to her lips, pushing him back into the room and softly closing the door behind them before pressing her ear against it and dropping her hand from his face. He mirrors her position with a question clear as day in his wide eyes, 'what the fuck?', arm still looped around her lower back.

"She's grilling him about yesterday," She says simply, then turns her attention back to the faint voices floating through the door. The duo listens in silence, trying and failing to discern what's being said until they hear the sound of the sheriff's boots on the front porch and her squad car tires crunching through the gravel as she drives away and they exchange a worried look. JJ had it right: what the fuck, indeed.

"Holy shit, guys," John B's voice suddenly says from the hallway. The door opens before they have time to back away and it sends them sprawling to the floor in a twisted pile of limbs; the brunet boy -who'd usually find something like that hilarious- barely reacts to their position and sends them both a tense frown, his next words dropping like a damn anchor in the marsh.

"We need to go check out that Grady-White again, and fast."

Sailor groans and lets her head fall back onto the floor with a thunk. "Here we go."

let me know what you think! fun fact: ostriches actually do put their heads in the sand, but it's not because they sense danger. female ostriches bury their eggs to keep them safe from predators and they'll occasionally stick their head into the sand to check on them and give 'em a lil turn 😊

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves @jiaraendgame @hmsjiara @maysbanks @alexa-playafricabytoto @sunflowerbecca @obxlife @obx-adventures @sexualparkour @coltonparayyko @miawantsapuppy

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