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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 8 months

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Secrets

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff X Reader, Natasha Romanoff X Reader

This fic is inspired by the song Secret by the Pierces and the HBO Max show Love and Death. I recommend listening to the song before reading but it's not necessary :)

Warnings: This story will contain dark themes (such as cheating, violence, stalking behaviour, murder) 18+ Smut and angst. Please consider these warnings before reading! If you do read, please bear in mind I did warn you of these topics.

Chapter 1- Would you be interested in having an affair? (4.7k words)

Other Chapters: 2, 3, 4, 5

Would You Be Interested In Having An Affair?

Got a secret, can you keep it?

Swear this one you'll save

Better lock it in your pocket

Taking this one to the grave

If I show you then I know you won't tell what I said

'Cause two can keep a secret

if one of them is dead.

The car came to a slow and gentle stop, Natasha's hand leaving your thigh to pull the handbrake up, securing the car before turning her gaze to you. Her green eyes stared at you in a loving way, a soft smile breaking out onto her face when she sees your eyes firmly locked on the doors ahead, watching the various other people flood into the building. Her hand returns to your leg, squeezing gently to gain your attention, succeeding as you tear your gaze away from the glass doors to your girlfriend.

Your body relaxes at her soft and encouraging smile, your hand sliding on top of hers and turning it over so you could interlock your fingers.

"You'll be amazing love," she whispers, her accent slipping into her words as she raises your hand to her lips, pressing a featherlight kiss to the back of it.

"I don't even know the rules," you mumble to disagree with her, giving her a nervous look as a small chuckle leaves her lips.

"That might be a problem," she says playfully, the light hearted tone somehow helping ease the nerves. "It's a new volleyball club, love, I'm sure half the people here don't know the rules either," she says, truth to her words.

Westview had just opened a new sports centre with a volleyball court for anyone to use, the Avengers facility providing a designated time slot for a volleyball club to start for people interested in starting a new hobby. You'd always been interested in the sport despite not knowing much about it so, when Natasha brought it up to you, you leapt at the opportunity to finally play the sport. You were one of the first names to sign up to the club, unaware that your neighbour had also been one of the first to sign up.

"I can escape Melina and Alexie to come and pick you up whenever you need," she murmurs, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you smile at the mention of her leaving her parents earlier. Natasha had wanted to join you on the first trial of the club but her parents demanded her at dinner alone, the latter not too fond of you hence not being invited.

"Nat," you chuckle out, her giving you an innocent look, "You can't use me as an excuse to ditch your parents, no matter how...charming they are," you reprimand, her rolling her eyes jokingly and grumbling at how unfair that was causing you to laugh. "I'll meet you at home?" You ask, breaking the short silence that had taken over the car, her nodding her head and leaning over to kiss you.

Her lips met yours gently, her hand cupping your jaw as she claimed your lips once more, her reluctance to leave making you smile into the kiss.

"Go," you mutter against her lips, unable to stop the smile etched onto her face as she smiles into another kiss.

"I'd rather stay," she murmurs and you let out a small laugh.

"If you're late Melina will, oh I don't know, chop me up with an axe," you joke, causing her to burst out with laughter.

"Fine," she says while still chuckling, "I love you and good luck," she steals one more kiss as a goodbye, leaning back into her seat properly while you unbuckle your belt and grab your bag from the back seat.

"I love you too and I will see you at home," your tone soft as you bid her goodbye, shutting the car door and making your way to the entrance of the sports centre, waving to her when her car drives past.

***

"Y/n?" Turning around at hearing your name being called, your eyes widen and brows furrow momentarily when you see your neighbour walk up towards you in the changing rooms.

"Wanda?" Your tone is a little surprised, not expecting to see her here. "Are you also here for Volleyball?" you ask, the question is rather stupid as it was the only event tonight. She lets out an angelic laugh, placing her bag down next to yours on the bench and opening the locker, leaving her watch and wedding ring inside there before unzipping her bag.

"Yes, dear," she chuckles out and a shy feeling consumes you as her gaze remains on you, your thoughts screaming at you to say something else but she beats you to it, "And it looks like we're on the same team." You follow her gaze to the shirt the man at the desk gave you, the colour indicating you were on the red team which the older woman was also on.

"It appears so," you say, turning your attention to the woman before your breath hitches, shocked at the sight of her pulling her shirt over her head, exposing her bra-covered chest.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

A prominent blush forms on your cheeks, your eyes now glued onto your bag as you focus on anything but the beautiful woman next to you. Your mind ran wild with thoughts, most of them berating you for thinking that she was a real life goddess as you had Natasha. Natasha, your girlfriend.

Was it wrong to think about Wanda when you had Natasha? Probably, but you convinced yourself that it wasn't love or lust it was a mere... appreciation? Admiration? For the other woman. She definitely didn't somehow consume your thoughts every time you saw her. Definitely not.

You cleared your throat, not noticing how Wanda smirked next to you at your reaction, tugging her team shirt over her head as you timidly changed into yours, trying to start a conversation to divert your attention and ease your nerves.

"Have... Have you ever played Volleyball before?" You ask, pulling your own shirt over your head and making sure to not look to your right where the brunette was.

"I played it during College and loved it," she answers, pulling up her shorts as you did the same, risking a glance at her as she was now fully changed. You regretted the decision immediately upon seeing how short the green clothing was, flickering your eyes up away from her long, slender legs to her green eyes that had a glint of mischief hidden within them. "What about you?" her tone interested as you pack your things away into the lockers, making your way into the main room with the various sports lines painted along the floor.

"Never," you sigh out, looking around at all the other people here and the other teams. "I don't even know the rules," you mutter, starting to wish you were with Natasha instead and enduring the grief her parents would unleash on you.

"Then I'll have to teach you," she whispers with a thick accent, her mouth close to your ear as her body moves behind yours, probably too close for how neighbours should interact.

Her leg slides in between yours, the sharp intake of breath from you not being heard by others due to the chatter around the room but definitely by the older woman. She moves her foot to yours, sliding your foot across and spreading your legs to have you in the proper stance, her hands on your hips to further show you the position. "That's it, perfect, just like that," you almost groan at her low tone, guilt stirring inside you as you feel arousal pooling between your thighs, the thought of Natasha fading from your mind. "A little lower," she murmurs, guiding you into a semi squat, the feeling of her hand at your lower back now burning into your skin. "You want to be on the balls of your feet, keeping your weight on your back foot though and knees slightly flexed," she instructs but if your being honest, nothing is processing as her breath tickles your neck, her hands gliding up and down your body to show you how to do things.

The shrill noise of a whistle interrupts your mini 'lesson' with Wanda, your heart knocking wildly against your rib cage at the interaction between you both. You follow her to the centre of the room where everyone was, trailing behind to try and get a grip of yourself but inevitably casting your gaze down to her hips that sway ever so subtly and her ass.

"For the first day, we're only going to do short matches to help those who've never played before and warm up the others who know the rules," a man named Steve Rogers said in a loud voice so everyone could hear him, hoping everyone was properly concentrating on the rules as he explained them. To say you were listening would have been a lie, too busy getting distracted by the woman next to you and constantly stealing glances her way.

You were snapped back to reality when everyone around you started moving, watching closely to see where everyone else on your team had gone so you could sit with them. You sat on the floor opposed to the bench as it was full, greeting everyone on the team and trying to learn their names and whether they'd played before. Turns out, everyone on your team had played the sport except you, causing you to apologise in advance for your mistakes that were bound to happen.

"Do you want a quick run through?" A man named Clint says after chuckling at your nervousness, your head nodding as you moved closer to him. You paid full attention to his very brief explanation of the rules and positions, trying to wrap your head around it before your team were called up to play the Yellow team by Steve.

"You've got this," Wanda says with a smirk as you walk to the court, winking at you playfully before getting into her position, bending her knees a little and waiting for the whistle to sound.

Here goes nothing.

***

"Five minutes left!" Steve calls out on the final game, and you thank every single god up there for the game almost being over.

Sweat coated your body, your breath ragged from running about constantly to try and do anything useful to help your team win the final game. You managed to pick up the rules as you went along and were guided by the people behind you, Bucky and Sam helping you immensely while Wanda played her role as... well you weren't sure of her position but you knew she was extremely good at it.

"I got it," a man named Tony on the other team shouted, hitting it down with force onto your side of the court, your body moving instinctively to stop him from scoring a point. What you failed to consider was the other member of your team heading for the ball as well, colliding into their body and falling forwards hard on your knees, foot twisting awkwardly.

"Shit," you groaned, pain shooting up your ankle as your head leaned back against the cold floor, eyes resting for a moment as you tried to catch your breath.

"Language!" Steve shouted, eyes snapping open and a look of annoyance washing over your face at his stern voice. You were just about to shout back to him how you didn't give a single fuck about using bad language when Wanda dropped to her knees in a state of panic, her body leaning over yours.

"Are you alright?" Her tone laced with worry, hands moving to the back of your leg. Your mouth parted at the sigh of her above you, the green of her eyes swirling with care as you laid on the ground injured.

"I'm fine," you dismiss with a nervous chuckle, moving to sit up, her hand falling from your leg and moving to your back. She doesn't seem to believe your words but you insist you prove to her you're fine, taking Bucky and Clint's hands to get back to your feet. "Fuck," you say under your breath when putting any sort of pressure on your foot, face scrunching up into pain.

"You're hurt," she says, the look she sends your way shutting you up from any further comments. "I've got her," Wanda says to the others, moving her body so that your arm was around her shoulder, using her as support as you left the court, moving to the closest bench possible.

"Thank you," you murmur when you sit down, removing any pressure from your foot to help relieve the pain.

"You need to be careful dear," she softly says, brushing a few strands of hair that stuck to the sweat on your forehead, letting her fingers linger against your cheekbones before pulling away.

Someone kindly brings over an ice pack as two members of the other teams join yours, taking your place for the final few minutes.

A hiss leaves your lips as Wanda presses the pack against your skin, shocked by the cold sensation. You catch her eyes when her head lifts to look at you, her green eyes holding an indecipherable glint in them as her gaze lowers to your lips before flickering away so fast you think you imagined the brief glance.

"What time is Natasha picking you up?" she asks, your face showing your confusion as you're unsure of how she knew you didn't bring your car, but you brushed that aside and answered her question.

"She's not," you say, her brows furrowing before another odd look takes over her face. It looked like she was angry at Natasha for something but you couldn't think why. "I'm supposed to be getting the bus," you say with a chuckle, not too sure how well that was going to work now as the bus stop was at least twenty minutes walk away from here.

"You're coming home with me," she says, more demanding that you ride with her.

"What?"

"Oh, come on dear," she lets her fingers move to your hand, resting atop of yours, "It's not like your house is out of the way." You offer a shy smile, not wanting to be an inconvenience but she quickly settles it, deciding that you were going to ride home with her, whether you liked it or not.

***

"Are you sure this is ok?" you ask for what seems like the hundredth time while climbing into her car, grimacing at the pain of stepping in as Wanda lets out a sigh while smiling at the way you fumbled with the seatbelt.

"Yes dear," She softly says, moving your bag to the back seat along with her own, her wedding ring left in her pocket as she puts her watch back on. "I'm just driving home like I normally would," she says to remind you that it's literally no inconvenience at all, "If anything, it's nice to have the company on the drive back." She gets into the driver's seat, checking her mirrors before pausing, looking towards you.

Your gaze is firmly locked on the crowd of people emerging from the glass doors, watching as everyone makes their way back to their own cars.

Wanda can't help but think about how beautiful you look, the way the lights of the car park perfectly highlights your face, the way you subtly bite your lip before turning to her, eyes somewhat a little darker after letting your thoughts drift somewhere a little more sinful.

"Y/n?" Wanda lowly whispers, her gaze flickering down to your lips once more, not hiding it this time as you swallow nervously.

"Yes, Wanda?" your voice trailing off as you're enticed by her eyes, almost put under a spell by her mesmerising stare.

"I have something I want to ask you, but you have to promise never to tell anyone," her body turns in her car seat, her hand moving to brush along your arm, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

"I promise," the tone of your voice is almost desperate, eager to know what she wants to ask you.

"Do you swear on your life?" She lets her fingers trail up your arm, moving to your drag along the side of your neck and your jaw before resting on your chin, holding your face to look at her.

"I swear on my life," you whisper, unable to look away from her.

"Would you be interested in having an affair?"

You're snapped out of the little trance she put you under, your mind processing her words. An affair?

You couldn't, could you? No. You loved Natasha.

"What about Natasha?" You say, her hand dropping to your lap, resting against your thigh, "What about Vision? You're husband."

The chuckle that leaves her lips is almost deadly, a predatory look flashing across her face as she smirks at you, her eyes darkening as she looks at your lips once more before flickering her gaze back up.

"They'd never know, Detka," she purrs, staring into your eyes with a look that could get anyone to do as she wishes.

"They... I - I couldn't do that to Natasha," you say but your argument is weak and Wanda knows it.

"You would have said no by now if you couldn't do it Detka," her tone sultrier than before, her fingers moving higher up on your leg.

"I love her," you whisper, trying not to give in to the temptation.

"Do you?" she asks, leaning closer. "If you loved her, why are you considering my offer?" Her mouth ghosted yours, a sinister smirk playing on her lips as she awaited your response.

You were lost for words as she slowly moved closer and closer until her lips practically brushed yours, the sweet taste of her lip gloss teasing you.

"So Detka, what's your answer?" she asks, pulling back marginally to properly look into your eyes, gauging your reaction.

"She'd never find out?" you say, lost in the temptation.

"They'd never find out," she whispers sultrily in response, moving her hand to cup your jaw.

"Yes."

***

Pulling into her drive, Wanda stops the car, looking over to you with a soft look, your gaze following the car that pulls up into your drive, watching Natasha get out of the car and pause when she sees you in Wanda's, a confused look taking over her face. Her lips tug into a smile at the sight of you, sliding her hands into her pockets before leaning against her car, waiting for you to get out.

"Do you need a hand?" Wanda asks as she opens your car door, Natasha puzzled by the action but making no comment until she sees your face scrunch up in pain as you step out of the brunette's vehicle. You take Wanda's hand as she helps you out, the redhead rushing over from her car to make sure everything was alright.

"What's wrong?" her tone cautious as she moves her body to help support you, taking you from Wanda's arms. Natasha's hand cups your face softly as she looks into your tired eyes, the exhaustion from running around catching up to you.

"She fell awkwardly on her ankle," Wanda explains, her tone sharp and blunt as Natasha presses a light kiss to your forehead, the small action making you smile. You notice the switch in hostility towards Natasha from Wanda, not saying anything as you just wanted to lay down somewhere and let sleep take over.

"Oh love," the redhead murmurs, wrapping her arm around you securely while looking at her neighbour, an appreciative glint in her eyes. "Thank you for bringing her home," she thanks the other woman, whose jaw clenches momentarily before letting a fake smile take over her face.

"It was no problem, I just hope her foot feels better soon," she responds, turning her gaze to you, a shiver running down your spine at her intense gaze, her eyes wandering to your lips before flickering back over to your girlfriend. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go to bed now," she moves closer to you, letting her hand rest on your shoulder and squeezing gently, "Goodnight."

Wanda leaves the two of you as Natasha helps you into the house, you chuckling at how overprotective she was being, not wanting you to hurt yourself anymore.

"Nat," you groaned in the crook of her neck when she lifted you up, letting your legs wrap around her waist as she insisted she carried you to bed. "I am capable of walking," you grumble against her skin, the sensation tickling her slightly and causing her to laugh at your tone of voice.

"Mhmm what was that love?" she innocently asks as she continues to walk up the stairs with you in her arms, hands drifting down lower until they rested on your ass. You rolled your eyes at her actions, deciding to let her carry you all the way as it would be a lot easier than trying to fight this very stubborn woman. "There we go," she softly whispers while lowering you onto the bed, your hand clutching the collar of her shirt and pulling her on top of you.

"How was dinner?" you ask, encouraging her to straddle your lap as you laid against the soft mattress, interested in how her evening played out. You also wanted to distract yourself from the little agreement you made with Wanda, knowing that if you focussed on it too much you would start to feel guilty.

"Don't get me started," she groaned, letting her hands play with yours as she happily sat on your lap, the moonlight streaming in from the window illuminating her face perfectly. "I would have much preferred to have stayed home with you," she murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

Your hands drifted down to her lower back while her lips pressed against yours, indulging yourself in the moment as her tongue swept across your bottom lip teasingly before pulling back.

"Oh really?" you mutter while chasing her lips, moving to sit up and snake your arms around her middle, noticing how her eyes seemed to darken ever so slightly.

"You're so beautiful," she sighs out in an awestruck tone a little out of the blue, causing a blush to form on your cheeks at the genuine tone of her voice.

You move forwards to claim her lips once more, hands cupping her jaw as you deepened the kiss, wanting to ease the throb that had built between your thighs during your time with Wanda. It was wrong to use Natasha like this, you knew that, but the thrilling feeling that coursed through your veins at the thought of Wanda's deal seemed to take over, unable to get a grip of your moral compass.

The soft moan that left her lips brought you back to reality, her fingers threading through your hair as her kisses moved to trail along your jaw and neck. Your hands swiftly moved to the hem of her shirt moving to pull the item over her head when her lips caught the sensitive part of your neck, a moan spilling from your lips. You tensed when Wanda's name almost spilt from your lips, your thoughts engrossed by the other woman while Natasha's hips softly pressed against you.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, pulling back from the kiss with flushed cheeks and lust filled eyes. Her brows furrowed at your words, unknowing of the true meaning of your apology as you lowered your gaze and avoided her eyes.

"Hey, it's ok," she coos, lifting your chin gently to meet her gaze, "If you want to stop that perfectly fine love, you know that." You just offer her a small, apologetic smile while she takes the hint that you want to stop, kissing your forehead softly before climbing off your lap, laying next to you. "Do you want another ice pack for your foot?" she asks while letting her fingers draw random patterns on your arm, noticing your odd mood and assuming it was due to fatigue and the pain of your ankle.

"No thank you," you whisper back, staring ahead at the ceiling, trying your absolute best to rid Wanda from your thoughts. Fuck, why couldn't you stop thinking about her?

"I'm going to have a quick shower, love, and then get ready for bed," her lips meet your cheek, pressing ever so gently before moving away to retrieve some clothes for herself and one of her old shirts for you to wear to bed, leaving it by your side.

You're grateful that she's left you to your own thoughts but also a little annoyed as you can't clear your mind to think properly, the image of Wanda's lips ghosting your own refusing to fade away.

At the thought of the other woman you sit up once more, turning your head to look out of the window towards her house, blood running cold when you see her standing by her window staring in at you.

You're about to question her strange actions but the sight of her shrugging off her nightgown has you freezing. You watch as her soft skin is exposed, the lace bra from earlier and a matching pair of panties the only thing covering her body as she smirks at your reaction. Your eyes drift down her body, admiring the way her breasts practically spill out of her bra, the curve of her hips and then lower, only just about noticing the darker patch at the front of her panties and groaning to yourself at the thought of how wet she must be.

Her hand draws your attention as she slides it down her body, sliding a finger under the waistband of her panties before pulling out, a teasing smile engraved onto her face at the way you look so captivated by her. Her finger slides under the waistband again, this time her head lolling back a little, her mouth parting as you see her digit move under the fabric, most likely circling her clit.

You move to stand, ignoring the sharp pain that shoots up your leg and moving closer to the window, watching as she does the same. Her finger leaves her panties, moving to her mouth as she slides it in, sucking on it and groaning at the taste of her own arousal.

You can't do anything but watch her, your body yearning for her touch as she moves even closer to the window, a wicked smirk on her face. Your brows furrow once more as she winks at you, grabbing the curtains and pulling them shut, a sound of disbelief leaving your lips at her cruel actions.

After a moment of collecting yourself, you drag your curtains shut with a little more force than necessary, the frustration of the incessant throb between your thighs not helping with your unusual mood.

You make your way back to the bed, sliding the sports shorts down your legs and your team shirt over your head quickly before grabbing the shirt Natasha laid out for you, slipping it on. You enjoyed how it went to your mid thighs, covering up your most likely soaked panties as you crawled into bed, waiting for Natasha to join you.

Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, on the cusp of unconsciousness, Natasha's body slid in behind yours, her arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you closer. She pressed a kiss to your cheek before letting her head rest against her pillow, ready to let sleep take over her as well.

"I love you," she murmurs as you pretend to be asleep, not saying the words back to her and letting silence take over the room.

What have you done?

---

I've had this idea for a while now and thought why not turn it into a mini fic :)

This is darker than what I normally write so I hope it's ok

I hope you enjoyed ;)

Please leave any thoughts/comments/votes <3 I really appreciate them all!

#wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #eventual smut #wanda x you #wanda fanfic #dark fanfiction #dark fairycore #dark wanda maximoff #dark wanda x reader #marvel fanfiction #wanda x reader #natasha #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natahsa romanoff #love and death

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seasonsbloom · 2 years

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dime store cowboy 2 . (hangman)

pairing ; cowboy!jake seresin x female!reader

synopsis ; jake teaches you about the cowboy hat rule. (part two of dime store cowboy, but can probably be read separately.)

wc ; 6.5k

warnings ; 18+ only, minors do NOT interact; explicit language, alcohol abuse, explicit sexual content (semi-public sex, sex while under the influence, p in v, fingering, riding, dirty talk, lil tiny bit of degradation maybe?, almost getting caught)

note: YEEHAW PARDNERS………. i hate this so much, but hey i finished! that's the only positive about this goodbe.

sol. sunderlust. you already know what i’m gonna say thank you for being my bestie :(

It’s a small town, so news travels like wildfire - soon, all the kitchens are burning.

When you walked into work on Monday, three of your co-workers told you not to get too involved with Jake. On a trip to the local mom-and-pop shops for nails to hang your newest art print with, the older woman at the register frowned, called you by name even though you don’t remember ever introducing yourself to her, and said, Jake Seresin is bad news, honey. At a diner, a whole table of mid-twenties girls glared actual daggers at you.

With the way he’s looking at you right now, sort of like he’s ready to reach across the table and devour you whole, you think you kind of know what they mean.

“You’re like… a local legend,” you tell him, toying with the straw in your margarita. Jake ordered it for you before you even walked through the doors, and you don’t know how to feel about him remembering your drink order.

Jake raises an eyebrow. He’s wearing a pale blue button-down tonight that seems more formal than the flannel you met him in, but the hat and obnoxious belt remain the same.

“Am I?” he asks and sounds a little too pleased for your liking.

You nod. “I got advised not to show up tonight by….” You count them off on your fingers. “... four people. And that’s not counting any of the girls who I think are planning my murder as we speak.”

It punches a chuckle out of him, but something about the sound is almost sad.

“Yeah, yeah,” he agrees, waving it off. “I may have a bit of a reputation.”

“What sort of reputation?” you ask, watching as your straw paints swirls into the pink slush of your drink.

Looking at him is dangerous business, you’ve learned this much by now. It makes you do crazy things, shuts off whichever part of your brain is responsible for logic and common sense. So you avoid his eyes, even as you feel his gaze burn holes into the side of your face.

“A bad one,” he says.

It’s ridiculous, and judging by the fake deep voice he puts on, he knows it too. So you laugh, duck your head, and wonder if you even want to know the real answer.

From what you’ve gathered, Jake is a bit of a ladies man. (Your co-worker’s description had been somewhat less flattering. At least you don’t think town mattress is going to show up on his CV any time soon.) Usually, that fact alone would have been enough to have you running for the hills, but you can’t forget the night you met him - his hand on your thigh and the easy banter and feeling sexy, carefree, grown-up in a way not even doing your taxes can duplicate.

Still. The uncertainty remains.

“You think I should listen to them?” you ask. The leather of the booth clings to your sweaty thighs. It’s a hundred degrees in this stupid bar.

Jake hums and shrugs his shoulders. “What I want you to do and what you should do are two entirely separate things, sugar.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He’s drinking whiskey neat. When he picks the glass up to take a sip, amber liquid trembles like a lake in an earthquake.

“It’s your choice, sweetheart.”

That’s not exactly an answer, and it doesn’t escape your notice.

Jake sets his glass back down, braces his elbows on the table’s edge, and leans forward, leans into your space, a conspiratorial grin pulling up the corners of his mouth and says, “If you’re asking me, though… I think you’ve already made your choice.”

You’re not exactly sure what you’re talking about anymore, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of saying what.

“How so?” you ask.

“Well.” Jake makes a sweeping gesture that seems to encapsulate both your little outfit and meticulously styled hair as well as the bustle of the bar. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

You can’t argue with that. A new song comes on, and a group of girls near the bar yell in excitement. You watch them for a second.

“What made you come anyway?” He has his arms folded on the tabletop, clearly trying to pull you back from whatever train of thought you’ve boarded and sailed away on.

That’s a good question, and it’s one you’re not too sure how to answer. Because, truth be told, you almost didn’t. Without the liquid courage of three strawberry margaritas coursing through your bloodstream, without him so close you could barely think of anything but his stubble between your thighs, your nerves caught up with you. You’ve agonized over this, even twenty minutes ago, sitting in your car and staring at the twinkling neon of the bar, your heart beating an erratic pattern that echoed in your words like the same question repeated again and again: Should I?

You shrug. “Curiosity.”

He grins, his teeth gleaming between the pink of his lips. You wonder if he uses Crest white strips or if he gets them professionally bleached. They’re almost too white.

“Curiosity about what, exactly?”

You take a sip of your cocktail to bide your time, to collect your thoughts. Then you say, “I’ve never been on a date with a cowboy.”

Casually, Jake leans back in his chair, folding his arms in front of his chest. His expression is unreadable. “Oh, so is that what this is? A date?”

Your heart drops to the vicinity of your kneecaps. Could it really be that you’ve misjudged this situation so completely? Could it really be that you’re so inexperienced, so out of tune with the signs and signals of the chase, that you can’t even recognize when somebody’s flirting with you?

And you were so sure of it all. That he had felt the same pull as you did that night at the bar. That he’d wanted you almost as much as you had wanted him. That he’d called the number you’d scribbled hastily on a napkin soaked in beer (called, not texted, and you’d been so sure it was a spam call you almost hadn’t picked up) because he’d genuinely wanted to see you again to continue whatever your co-worker had interrupted.

Back home, your friends used to call you romantically challenged, but you didn’t think it was this bad.

“Oh,” you say, and your cheeks feel warm as you shift your weight in your seat, as you pull your shoulders up like you’re trying to disappear between the blades, “I’m sorry, I just….”

Jake is shaking his head before you can finish the sentence you had no idea where to end anyway. “I’m only messing with you, sugar,” he says, his laughter warm even as he teases you, and for a split second, his fingers graze over your knuckles on the tabletop. “I’m honored to be the first cowboy to take a pretty lady like you out.”

That line has no business making your heart race the way it does. Where his fingers touched yours, the skin tingles.

Because you don’t know what to say, you down the last of your cocktail.

For a while, the two of you chat about nothing and everything. Your new job, the adjustment to the countryside. His work on his parent’s ranch and his family. He names all of their seven dogs, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“Seven?” you repeat, a note of awe sneaking into your voice. “You guys have seven dogs?”

Jake laughs. “I take it you like dogs?”

“Like is like… the understatement of the century.”

“If you’re a good girl,” he says, looking at you over the rim of his glass, “maybe I’ll introduce them to you one day.”

That has your thighs clenching, your toes curling against the soles of your shoes. Jesus. He can’t just say things like that.

Jake orders you another cocktail from a waitress that does very little to conceal the glare she throws in your direction. When she comes back to deliver your drink and the beer that Jake has switched to, she leans so low both he and you get a good, thorough glance into her cleavage.

As she saunters away, hips swinging, you blink, caught between confusion and a tiny bit of annoyance, and Jake just snorts into the sweating neck of his beer bottle.

By then, the sugar and the alcohol are beginning to work their way into your bloodstream, and you feel just the right side of tipsy. Where your senses are dulled enough the bar fades away to a steady chatter of background noise, tuned out by the gleam of Jake’s smile and his eyes and his fingertips tapping rhythmically on the wood of the table. You feel loose and swaying and unsteady in a way that is funny, thrilling, instead of scary.

It’s strange to be so far from him, all the space of the booth stretching and elongating. Later, you’ll blame the liquid courage, but something (it’s definitely not jealous, nope, not at all) propels you to slide along the leather of the seat, feeling the sweat collecting in your kneecaps, heart in your throat, until you’re on his side, your legs just an inch or two from his.

Jake watches your migration with a faint smile on his face.

“Hi,” you say, blinking up at him.

“Hi,” he echoes back, his arm sliding over the backrest just above your shoulders. “You good?”

You nod. “I was getting lonely over there.”

As soon as the words are out, you cringe at yourself, mouth already opening around an apology, but Jake’s hand on your waist silences you. Wordlessly, he pulls you the last inch to him. And then you’re pressed to him, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, and he’s like a massive bulk of heat and muscle and the pleasant, spicy scent of his aftershave. Your heart stutters, stumbles, trips.

“Well, we can’t have that,” Jake says, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Pretty girl like you all on her lonesome.”

It has you grinning involuntarily. His arm goes from your waist to drape across your shoulder instead, heavy against you, and you set a tentative, searching hand on his thigh. The denim of his jeans feels rough against your palm.

“Better like this?” he asks, and the words are quiet, soft, like they’re meant just for you.

You nod. “Much.”

From your perch against his chest, you watch as he takes a sip of his beer. The bottle comes away, mouth wet just like his lips. His tongue pokes out just a little as he chases the flavor, chases a drop, and it’s like an intrusive thought, something planted in your mind by someone else, something…

“Can I have a sip?” you blurt.

Jake raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for a beer girl.”

You’re not. That’s not what it’s about.

You shrug, his arm moving with your gesture, and say, aiming for nonchalance, “Maybe I could be.”

He chuckles but hands you the bottle without further protest. It’s ridiculous, but something about the thought that you’re putting your lips where his have been moments ago excites you, sets your heart racing. Maybe you’re childish. If you reached up now and kissed him, you’re almost entirely sure he’d kiss back, but the tiniest, smallest spark of fear flickers inside of you at the idea. What if he rejects you?

So instead, you bring the bottle to your lips, take a single, tiny sip, and then, because you can’t help yourself, because apparently, this has become a habit in his presence, you lick the rim.

Then you cringe. “Nah,” you say. “Still not a beer girl.”

Jake snorts, but his eyes stay fixed on your mouth for just a moment too long. “Can I try your margarita, then?”

You nod, lean forward out of the crescent of his arm for just a moment to pluck the glass you left abandoned across the table.

Jake takes a sip and, to your disappointment, does not copy your moves. There’s no licking off the sugar for him.

He grimaces. “Jeez,” he says, “this is like ninety-five percent sugar.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “That’s why I like it.”

“Well, sugar,” Jake says, his grin turning just a touch devious, “I bet you taste even sweeter.”

Now that has blood rushing into your cheeks, fingers tightening around his thigh. You can feel his hand tracing up and down your side in leisured patterns, the naked skin of your legs against the fabric of his jeans. Your foot in the dainty sandals just an inch shy of his boots.

It’s like you can’t stop touching each other. Like a circuit, the electricity only flows if all parts of the pattern are connected. Like you’re gravitating towards each other, hands always on the other, your neck, his knee, your hip, his biceps.

“You want to find out?” you ask, voice barely more than a whisper, and wonder where the hell that came from.

Jake’s mouth lifts into a grin at one corner. “You’d let me have a taste, sugar?”

I’d let you have anything you want. That’s what you want to say, but when you open your mouth, somebody else’s voice cuts over yours.

“Jake.”

It’s the waitress from earlier. She’s gotten rid of her apron and notepad and is smiling at Jake in a way that makes her intention crystal clear. This girl is definitely here on a mission.

“Hi,” Jake greets back. “We’re still good on drinks, thank you.”

She laughs, and the sound is almost musical. “That’s not why I’m here. My shift just ended.”

For the first time, you really take her in. She’s beautiful, tanned skin, full lips, long hair the color of butterscotch that seems to dance in the light breeze from a ceiling fan. If it hadn’t been for Jake’s arm around you, you would have tried to melt back into the cushions of the booth. Suddenly, you feel painfully inadequate.

But Jake just says, “Good for you.”

The girl casts a furtive glance at you, a furrow etching itself between her eyebrows as if she cannot understand what Jake is doing with someone like you.

Welcome to the club, you think and startle at how bitter that sounds. It’s not like you to pity yourself like this.

“You remember when you asked me out on that date?”

Jake takes a moment to think about that. When he speaks again, he somehow manages not to sound like an absolute douchebag, and you’ll take that as a testament to his immense charm. “Vaguely.”

The girl’s mouth twists like she’s just bit into a lemon. “How about it then?”

One of Jake’s eyebrows rises so high it almost touches his hairline. He says, “I’m a tad busy.”

You watch the whole exchange like somebody watching a tennis match. Sort of like you forgot you’re at all involved in this and not just an innocent bystander watching a girl’s romantic advances crash and burn. Then she sends a truly withering look at you, and you’re reminded that you’re smack dab in the middle of this thing.

“Alright,” she says, trying not to let the note of hurt in her voice show too much. Honestly, you feel sort of bad for her. “Give me a ring whenever.”

Jake hums, but he isn’t even looking at her. His eyes are fixed on your face, his thumb dragging in a long line from your hip down to the top of your thigh. A thoughtful expression crosses his face, and then he’s reaching for where he placed his hat on the tabletop earlier and planting it on your head again.

There’s a thrill to it all - a guy who could potentially have any girl in this town (pretty girls and funny girls and smart girls), but he’s looking only at you. His arm around you and his eyes on you, and his fingers on your leg. His hat on your hair.

You don’t even know if the waitress is still standing by the table or if she’s left. You don’t care.

“Did you drive here?” you ask.

Jake, preoccupied with adjusting the hat on you, glances down at your face and answers, “I did.”

Maybe you’re flattered by all the attention. Maybe it’s been too long since you last got laid. Maybe Jake is too pretty. Or maybe you’re just drunk.

But there’s a sudden bout of confidence, a wind in your sails, a voice at the back of your head whispering fuck it, and another answering yeah, we’re trying.

Maybe it doesn’t matter. What matters is this: You say, “Do you wanna get out of here?”

You expected Jake to be surprised. Instead, he just smiles, something like amusement crossing his face, and you’re not sure how to feel about that.

“Sure,” he says. “Wait by the door for me, yeah, sugar?”

You agree. As he goes to pay, you idle by the entrance, acting like you don’t feel any of the eyes on you. Without his touch on you, you feel almost forlorn. A little sheepishly, you take off the hat and hold it to your chest, turn it over and over to stare at that label inside.

“Property of J. Seresin,” you read out in a whisper, running a finger along the thin leather of the hat band.

“You really like that hat, don’t you?”

Jake’s voice startles you. He’s smiling, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d call the expression on his face affectionate.

“It’s that cowgirl fantasy,” you say and watch as he stuffs his wallet back into his pocket.

“Yeah, I got my own cowgirl fantasies,” Jake mutters, and you don’t know how to respond, so you act like you didn’t hear him. Something at your core has gone liquid.

He takes the hat from you and plants a warm palm at the small of your back, steering you confidently toward the door.

And this time, when you twist over your shoulder to throw a last glance at the bar, there’s something a little smug to your smile. So what if everybody sees you leave with Jake Seresin? Let them talk about this come Monday then, let them talk about it in the break rooms and the supermarkets and the diners. Let them set the whole town on fire.

You don’t really care, not when you’re the one Jake is ushering toward his truck with something like urgency in his step.

Jake parked his car towards the end of the lot, where the lights of the bar turn into shadows, where the music and the voices are drowned out almost entirely by the chirping of cicadas. The air smells of gasoline and green things, growing things you never really knew back in the city with all its traffic jams and construction work.

When you tilt your head back, you see the stars like glowing pins stuck in the velvet of the night.

“Earlier,” you tell him, slowing your steps as you get closer to the truck, “you asked what I was curious about.”

Jake hums in agreement. He’s rounded the car with you, clearly intent on opening the passenger door for you, but now he stops when you do. You’re still in sync.

“I think,” you say, and wonder how your voice sounds so firm when you feel like you’re floating off into the stratosphere, “I was wondering what it might be like.”

In the dim of the night, Jake’s eyes look almost black. “What what might be like, sugar?”

You bite your lower lip. “That ride I owe you.”

He’s on you within seconds.

One of his hands tangle in your hair, the other falls once more to that spot at the small of your back, pulling you towards you with enough that you go careening, that you crush into him. The alcohol still has you a little off balance, so you steady yourself with both palms flat on his chest, then make a sound against his lips when you feel the muscles beneath his shirt, the rapid beat of his heart.

It’s all so sudden that it takes you a moment to get used to it. I can’t believe this is happening, you think distantly as Jake opens his mouth against yours, as his tongue traces over the seam of your mouth. You react on instinct, letting him in, melting in his arms. It’s all hot and wet, and god, he’s warm. You know the backs of your thighs and knees are still damp with sweat, with the sweltering heat of the bar, and now, surrounded by the furnace of Jake’s body, not even the night breeze can do anything to cool you down.

Jake walks you backward until your back connects with the metal of his truck, and then he presses you against the door. The hand on your back wanders down, down, down, over the curve of your ass, and then he’s pinching the skin there, and you yelp.

The curve of his smile presses against your own mouth for a moment, and then he’s drawing back at the exact moment that he pulls your hips forward. He’s hard beneath the denim of his jeans, his cock an insistent pressure against your core.

“Oh,” you gasp.

Jake grins. “So do I get to be the first cowboy to fuck you, too?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hips instinctively bucking forward and into him. The sound of those words tumbling from his lips, his tone so easy, so unaffected, has something inside of you clenching.

“I…” You clear your throat and take a deep breath. “Yeah. First cowboy.”

His voice is husky when he says, “Good.”

Then he’s leaning back in, his tongue sliding into your mouth, his feet kicking your legs apart so he can slot himself between them. His thigh nudges against your clit just once, the contact almost has you keening, and then he’s angling it away, holding your hips back so you can’t rut against him.

Jake is a good kisser. He’s probably had enough practice, you think, and then immediately abandon that train of thought. There’s nothing good down that line. It’s not difficult anyway, not when he does something with his tongue, when his hand slides from your hair to the back of your neck and your brain melts into a puddle anyway, all coherent thoughts shriveling up with it.

When you lick into his mouth, you find traces of the whiskey he had earlier, of honey and oak and smoke. His stubble scrapes against your cheeks, your neck when he leaves a trail of open-mouthed, lingering kisses along the edge of your jaw. Part of you imagines him leaving a mark, imagines the rasp of that bear along the inside of your thighs, and your breath hitches.

The hand has wandered from your ass to the very top of your thighs, where your skin is so tender and sensitive that you bounce up onto your tip toes when he lets the pads of his fingers stroke a figure-eight pattern against you. His answering chuckle vibrates somewhere low in your throat, tickles in an exhale of warm air against your collarbone.

“Sensitive, sugar?”

“Yeah,” you breathe.

And that’s just about the only answer you give because then he’s inching your panties to the side, and one finger dips between your lips, and you have no air left in your lungs to form words with.

“Jesus,” Jake rasps. “You’re fucking soaked, doll. Have you been like this the whole time?”

You make a soaked noise at the back of your throat. Truth be told, you may have been wet since you walked into this stupid bar. It’s not your fault you’ve been wound tighter than clockwork since that night you first met him, it’s not your fault he’s so unfairly hot, not your fault he kept looking at you like he was mentally undressing you, not your fault he…

His finger finds your clit, applies a steady kind of pressure, and you throw your head back and moan so loudly you’re glad the parking lot is abandoned.

He grins again. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Then he’s kissing you again, his finger rubbing circles against you. You can barely keep up with the movement of his tongue, can’t really do anything but open your mouth and take what he’s giving you. The metal of the car is cold against your back, your head.

“Hold this,” he mutters without breaking the kiss, bunching the fabric of your dress up around your stomach and shoving it into one of your hands.

You do as he says, giving him better access to you. His mouth trails from your lips to your jugular, where your pulse is jumping so quickly it’s making you dizzy, as he slides your panties down your legs, taps the side of your thigh to signal you to step out of them. You go one foot at a time, knees feeling like jelly, but Jake steadies you. Bending down to retrieve the underwear, he presses a kiss to your kneecap on his way and mutters, “Good girl.”

Then he’s back up, your panties a crumpled up piece of fabric in his hand, and he presses his face right into the lace. Inhales deeply.

You’re going to pass out.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “can’t wait till I get that taste, sugar. You really are just the sweetest thing, aren’t you?”

It’s not really a question, but you still think it warrants some kind of answer. Your brain won’t cooperate, though. It’s completely and utterly blank.

You think he’s going to chuck the panties into the truck or something, but instead, he shoves them into one of his pockets, a bit of the pink lace peeking over the denim, and you swear you get even wetter.

“Souvenir,” he says, winks at you, and then you’re grabbing him by the collar, pulling him in, in, in, shoving your mouth to his, and kissing him like you want to drown.

If Jake is at all surprised by your sudden initiative, he doesn’t let it on. He takes as well as you give (if not better), fingers digging into your bare ass, your thighs, one sliding through your wetness and then inside of you. You whimper against his mouth as he fucks that finger in steadily, as he thumbs at your clit. Cling to him with both arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

The sound of gravel crunching beneath feet reaches you as if through a fog. Thankfully, Jake is quicker on his feet than you are, pulling his fingers out of you, tugging your dress down to cover you, and angling his body to shield you from whoever is approaching their car.

You can’t believe this is happening to you.

“Seresin,” the man calls as he unlocks his car door. Most of your vision is blocked by Jake’s shoulder, but you see the silhouette of someone raising their hand in a wave.

Jake tips his hat in response, arms protective and reassuring around you. He greets, “Hal,” then stays just as he is until the sound of the engine has died away in the buzz of the cicadas and the faraway traffic of the highway.

“Shit,” he curses, but there’s a chuckle to his voice. “You alright, sweetheart?”

The thing is this: you actually are alright, apart from the very, very insistent thrum between your legs Jake is doing nothing to help with. In fact, you’re more than alright. It’s exciting in a way you can’t explain, to be right here in the open with him, to know he wants you so much he’s willing to do this where anybody could possibly see. To know you want him so much you don’t even care. But also to feel so incredibly safe with him, to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’ll take care of you no matter what…

This one, you definitely can’t blame on the alcohol.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Can we… can we get in your car, maybe?”

Jake nods immediately. “Sure thing, sugar.” He unlocks the car door and opens it for you. “You want me to drive you home? I can…”

But you don’t let him finish. For the second time that night, you pull him by the collar, shove him down into the passenger seat and then climb after, clambering into his lap with your knees pressing into the cushion by his hips. Behind you, you pull the door closed with a resounding thud.

Jake’s truck smells like the air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror, but you barely take note of that. He throws his hat in the general direction of the driver’s seat. His face is just inches from yours, his hands immediately settling on your ass, his eyes wide and blown, and his lip curling in a surprised, pleased smile.

“Sure you don’t wanna do this in a bed?” he asks, but his fingers are already shoving beneath the fabric of your dress again.

You shake your head, lower yourself down until you feel his cock against you, until you both exhale in shaky unison. “Owe you that ride,” you mutter and lean in to kiss him.

It’s torture after that. Jake kisses you like he’s trying to climb into your body, tugs at your hair until you feel each pull like sparks of electricity down to your clit. He pulls your dress down your shoulders, lets it pool around your stomach to get his mouth on your nipples even over the fabric of your bra, the lace soaked through with his spit and your skin aching. All the while, you grind against him, spread your wetness all over his denim as Jake ruts up into the movement, the friction almost unbearable. On every hitch of your hips forward, the obnoxious belt buckle nudges against your clit, and it almost undoes you - the cold of the metal against your heat enough to have your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your mouth opening around moans of Jake’s name.

Finally, he seems to crack, reaching around you to prop open the glove compartment and get out a condom. You watch as he finally unzips his jeans, gets out his cock, and hisses as he rolls the rubber down. Your heart is in your throat with the anticipation of it all.

And then you spot it.

In a split-second decision, propelled by something that must border on madness, you stretch across the middle console, reaching for the driver’s seat.

Jake frowns. “Where you going, sugar?”

“Just…” You strain until you can finally get your hands on the soft fabric, and then you’re sinking back down into his lap, your cunt rubbing over him, and a long, languid moan escaping you before you place his hat on your head.

Jake blinks at you for a moment, eyes glassy, mouth open, the fingers on your hips tightening.

“Jesus,” he whispers, “you gonna wear that, sweetheart?”

You can’t read his face, can’t read the expression, and the uncertainty slams into your chest like an iron-clad fist. Maybe this was a bad idea.

But Jake groans, says, “You gonna wear my hat as you ride my cock, sugar? That’s how you wanna play this thing?”

And shit. Okay, then.

“Yeah,” you breathe, plant both hands on his shoulders. “Can I?”

In answer, he surges forward to kiss you at the same time that he pulls you down on his cock. It’s a stretch, and it’s a slow slide down, but it feels so good, it makes you go a little crazy. You cling to him, let him kiss you, let him dig his fingers into the skin of your hips, pant into his mouth.

When he finally bottoms out, you can’t tell how long it’s been. Your legs are already shaking, your head spinning, your words failing.

Gently, Jake pinches your side. He’s undeniably beautiful, face painted in the neon lights of the far-off bar, shadows crowding behind him. His lips pink and swollen from the nip of your teeth. His eyes lidded and glazed. “Go on then, sugar. You owe me.”

You whimper and obey, move yourself up and down on him slowly at first. The slide of his cock in and out, the clench of your cunt around him each time, as if your body doesn’t want to relinquish its hold on you. His fingers on you as he finally slides your bra off. His lips on your collarbone, then on your breasts, his teeth grazing a nipple, his tongue soothing the sting… It’s almost too much, all of it.

The cubicle is filled with your sounds, the quiet gasps and the loud whines, with Jake’s moans muffled against your skin.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “god, you feel so fucking good, sugar.”

You just nod in answer, the hat almost slipping over your eyes again, and up the pace. You’re all but slamming yourself down on his cock now, the sounds obscene. It’s the wet squelch of your pussy every time he spears into you, the frantic slap of skin on skin as your thighs meet his, the noise of his mouth on your tits.

It goes on forever, something that spirals higher and higher and never reaches the pinnacle. The windows fog up. Your thighs ache. You chase a high that eludes you, time and again.

And all through it, Jake’s hands remain infuriatingly stagnant on your hips.

Finally, you give in and whine, “Jake….”

You can barely keep up the bouncing, your thighs trembling with the pent-up desire, the strain of the movement. In fact, you’re shaking all over, so far gone you can’t even control your own muscles anymore. Sweat drips in steady tracks down your back.

“Hmm?” The sight of him, his hair disheveled by your fingers as he trails a line of wet kisses from your clavicle down between the valley of your breasts, is almost too much.

“I can’t….” You slump against him, the fatigue catching up with you, pant into the place where his collarbone dips in.

“You tired, doll?”

Without lifting your head, you nod.

His laughter brushes over your hair on an exhale. If you had any strength left in you, you might feel insulted at the fact that he’s laughing at your plight. But the alcohol and the exhaustion and the night in total have finally caught up with you, and you can’t think of anything but your dizzying, deafening, debilitating need to cum.

“That’s too bad,” he says, “You promised me a ride, didn’t you?”

And, like… fuck him, honestly.

“I’m too tired,” you whine, and you’re not too ashamed to admit it. Haven’t you been doing all the work for long enough?

Jake clicks his tongue and pats along the length of your spine. In a voice like melting honey, he says, “You want to come, don’t you, doll?”

You nod, words drifting far away from you like letting go of a balloon.

“Well.” He presses a kiss to your temple that is too soft for the moment. “Then you better get back to work, hmm?”

That’s the breaking point for you.

“Jake,” you say, pushing yourself into an upright position with both palms balanced on his pecs and glare down at his stupid, evil grin, “if you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll go back into that bar and find another cowboy to do it properly.”

You wouldn’t, of course. There isn’t anybody in there you trust the way you trust Jake, not a person you’d want even half as much as you want him.

But Jake doesn’t know that.

The shift is almost immediate.

His eyebrows furrow, his hands tighten on your hips. Something dark crosses his face.

“Don’t talk about other guys while wearing my hat,” he says.

You shrug, motioning to take off his hat. “I will if you can’t fuck me pr….”

Your words trail off into a squeak as Jake fucks his hips up, as his cock plunges into you with more force. Then he’s sitting up straight, wrapping one arm around your waist as he sets a quick, hard rhythm, as he plants a firm hand on the hat and pushes it back down.

“Don’t even say it,” he whispers into your neck as he licks at a drop of sweat, as he sinks his teeth gently into your skin. “You should know better than that, sugar.”

He’s fucking you for real now, hips pistoning in and out with abandon. Your breasts bounce with the force of it, your hands scrabbling for purchase among the curve of his shoulder, the leather of the headrest.

Into your ear, between pants, he’s pouring buckets of filth, saying, “They couldn’t fuck you like this anyway, sugar, and you know it. Nobody but me could give it to you like this, get that pretty pussy this wet, give you the ride of your life….”

Your mouth drops open, sounds pouring from you that could put most porn actresses to shame. When Jake’s fingers find your clit, you have to muffle a full-on scream into his neck.

“Jake,” you whimper, and it’s almost scary how big it is, looming just in the distance. So close now, you’re so goddamn close.

“Yeah,” he’s saying into your hair, planting his feet firmly on the ground and fucking up into your pussy, his cock plunging so deep you swear you feel him in your stomach, “fucking take it. You better not forget who’s fucking cock you’re taking, sugar, who’s hat you’re wearing, who….”

You don’t hear the rest of it. All you can think of is the weight of the hat on your head. All you can think of is that label on the inside of it.

Property of J. Seresin.

You cum with a strangled shout, with your cunt clamping down so hard on Jake’s cock he grunts, with a gush of wetness, with your back arching far enough the hat tips backward off your head, with your fingers and toes numb, with your head somewhere in the clouds, with your blood rushing in your ears, and your heart like a sledgehammer and your arms around his neck. And then you sob, gasp for breath, wriggle like a fish on land.

“That’s my girl,” Jake is saying into your ear when you regain enough presence of mind to tap back into your hearing. “Look so pretty when you come on my cock, Jesus, you’re so fucking tight, sugar, God….”

He pumps his hips a few more times before the rhythm stutters, before he groans and tenses and empties into the condom. His cock twitches inside of you, and you moan weakly, slumped against his chest as you are.

Jake’s arms wrap around you as he hauls you closer to press kisses down the slope of your shoulder.

“You good?” he asks softly.

You nod, eyes fluttering closed. God, you could fall asleep right here - completely sated, completely exhausted, completely full.

“Jake?” you whisper, and as your lips move against his skin, you taste the salt of sweat.

“Yeah, sugar?”

“Can I keep your hat?”

It’s so warm in the car, and he’s even warmer. Soon, you’re going to have to climb off him, going to have to pull your dress back on, let him take you home and step under the shower, wash off the remnants of this night, of this thing that will never happen again. Something you’ll keep locked in your heart forever, a warm, soft memory to melt you in the cold.

But just for now, you get to keep it. For another minute, for another moment.

Jake laughs, his shoulders shaking and your body moving with it.

“Since I’m keeping the panties,” he says, his voice almost tender. “Sure thing, sugar. It’s all yours.”

You press your smile into his chest, preen as he reaches around you to put the hat back on you, and then you think, Thank God for Carrie Underwood.

#hangman x reader #hangman fic #jake seresin x reader #hangman #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin #fic #writing #mine #top gun maverick #fic: dsc

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lottespics · 8 months

Text

Why Me? - Part 1

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader

Warnings: Drinking, cursing, insecurities, pining (if I do end up writing more I will put more chapter warnings)

Word Count: 700

Summary: Bob is a total simp, and he is too caught up in his own insecurities to ever think about the possibility you may very well like him back.

A/N: Ok, so this is my first attempt at writing in a VERY long time, so pls be gentle to me, thank you. But if anyone comes upon this I hope you enjoy it! I'm hoping to write more and have it become a series but we'll see what happens. Also I suck at summaries so sorryyy.

For the twenty-nine years Bob had been alive he had never felt this way before. It took a single stare. A look. A glance really, to know that he had been blessed in this life. You’d think he was admiring a masterpiece carefully handcrafted by a tortured artist who had dedicated his life to his craft, or perhaps the sunset over the cliffs of La Jolla that reflected off of the water just right. But no. Because nothing in this moment could compare to the sight before him. It was simply you, holding a hand to your chest, throwing your head back in a laugh over some wild story Phoenix was telling you about her family back home.

Everything slowed down around him as the light from the bar cast a halo around your head. The way your cheeks flushed from the rowdy atmosphere of the Hard Deck. The way your soft hand slid from your chest to Phoenix’s shoulder in an attempt to catch your breath. He knew he was staring at this point, but he just couldn’t tear his eyes from you. Even gazing at you in awe from behind the pool table he found himself blushing at the thought of you and your inviting smile.

Just as you take a sip from your glass, your eyes scan the bar and land on his, already staring right at you. Your eyes widen at first at how intently his eyes bore into yours, until they soften and a crooked smile makes its way to his lips. You smile right back at him and raise your hand in a small wave. Bob’s heart beats faster as you continue to smile at him, he picks up his hand and gives a wave back. Your smile widens as you stare back into your drink.

Even in your khakis Bob thinks there is no way you could get more beautiful. He should go over and talk to you. But he thinks better of it as you’re still in your conversation with Phoenix. That is until Phoenix gets up and heads to the restroom. Oh god. This is his chance. He should take it right? No, he’ll just end up making a stuttering mess of himself like the last time he tried to have a one-on-one conversation with you. The team still held that over his head, as they only thought he was nervous to say something wrong and have you go running to tell your dad what a dumb-ass he was.

Your father of course being their Captain, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. That was its own obstacle. Other than the fact that the thought of you had him stumbling over his own words, your father was one reason why he was hesitant to approach you. You had mentioned to Phoenix before that because of this every aviator either kept their distance from you, or had made a game of trying to hook up with you. This detachment had been different this time. Everyone has been friendly to you for no other reason than to be friendly. Of course, Hangman tried his hand at you, but that was before he realized who your father was. Bob remembers it quite well. The way Hangman sidled up to you to introduce himself. Giving you his best lines, eventually asking how you got the call sign of “Mantis” only for you to stare at him and casually say, “‘Cause I’ll bite your fucking head off if you try anything”. You gave him your best smile and walked off after Hangman promptly choked on his drink.

Lost in his daydream, Bob barely notices Phoenix coming back and reclaiming her seat next to you. Another opportunity slips out of his hands. He looks back to his empty cup of peanuts and decides to call it a night, heading out without saying goodbye to anyone, not like they would notice anyway. Besides, if you ever were to take a chance on anyone in the squad why would it be him? He makes it to the front of the bar before you look up smiling, hoping to see him again, he was too far gone to see it slip from your face. You let out a dejected sigh before asking Penny to close out your tab.

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x female reader #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #mavdad #top gun fandom

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 2 years

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(Hi! This is lowkey shit because its 4:54 AM rn and I'm tired lol. Anyways here, Enjoy!)

MY GIRL

You walked through a plaza in the Undercity, Ekko asked you to go out to Jericho's and get some takeout because you were both hungry. So you happily agreed to his requests.

You pushed past random people in the street until you finally arrived at your destination. You were about to walk up until you heard someone speak.

"Have you ever had prison food? No, you haven't." They spoke, your eyes widening a bit as you heard their voice. You had heard it before, but that was years ago.

You looked at them, their heart turning to look at the blue haired woman with them.

You saw her hair, it was exactly like Vi's, your childhood friend who you harbored feelings for.

But you haven't seen her in years, she went missing the same night Vander, Mylo and Claggor died in that explosion. You should know, you were there after all.

You stared at her back until she got up, Jericho taking her bowl on the counter. She looked at the woman beside her with a small smirk, taking the paper and getting up.

She finally laid her eyes on you, her eyes visibly widened as she saw your face.

You left your mask at the hideout.

It was a dead giveaway you were a firelight. And Silco, along with his goons, didn't take to fondly to the ones busting up their shipments.

You finally snapped out of it, if Vi was back and with that woman, who obviously wasn't from the Undercity, she probably was after someone.

After Jinx. And you promised to never fuck with Jinx the second she pointed a gun at your head, knowing it was you behind that mask.

You turned around, walking quickly to hide out of her sight. You weren't leaving, you had to know why she was back and what for.

Vi calles out your name, running towards you as you pulled your hood over your head. Stepping on your hoverboard to sneak by easier.

You hovered in the air to see her running by, looking around frantically as if she was searching for someone.

For you.

You finally saw her stop moving, her acquaintce looking utterly confused as you saw her mouth a question to Vi.

Thw woman merely stood silent before shrugging her off.

You felt sorry for a time before following, you watched as she and her little acquaintance made their way through the Undercity.

'Vi's famous tour.' You internally chuckled at the nameless woman's face as they entered Babbettes brothel. They were in there for quite a bit as you sighed, stepping off your hoverboard.

You stored it on your back, entering through the front and passing through with a wave to the employee at the desk.

You walked through the hall, passing by a lot of people before a woman stopped you.

"Y/n? What are you doing here? You don't usually come in today." She raised an eyebrow at you, it was Diamond, a worker at the brothel.

"Not here for that today. Where's Babbette? I need to talk to her." You explained, Diamond nodding her head as she led you over to Babbettes office.

"Babbette? Y/n's here!" She called out, pushing the curtain away from her face. "Oh! Send her in." Babbette smiled, she hadn't seen you for a bit.

You entered through the curtain's, waving at Babbette as you walked over to one of the side couches.

"Hey Babbette." You smiled, the woman returning it as she sat on the other couch.

"So, I'm assuming you saw her?" She already knew. You nodded your head, sighing as you leaned back into the couch.

"Yeah, just how in hell is she alive? She's been gone for seven years." You asked, Babbette shaking her head. "I don't know, Honey. But she's looking for Jinx." She stated.

"I knew it. She's gonna get herself killed." You sighed once again. "Did she say anything where she was headed?" You asked, Babbette nodding her head.

"She's looking for Sevika. Where she usually is, out back playing cards." She explained, you nodded your head as you stood up, taking your hoverboard off your back.

"Thank's, Babbette. See ya." You waved, smiling as you walked out the curtain hearing her small goodbye from behind you.

You shook your head, you had to tell Ekko now Vi, your old crush, his idol was now back from the dead after seven years.

She couldn't have just said Hi instead of this whole introduction?

You stepped on your hoverboard, gliding on it to rise up and it picked up speed and you headed to the back alley. To Sevika.

When you got there you heard grunting, you cursed under your breath as you looked around the corner to see Vi on the ground, looking like shit with Sevika holding her chin.

"I'll send her your regards." The woman said, Vi closing her eyes as your's widened. She never was one for laying low.

You were about to step around the corner to help before stepping back, a gunshot ringing out as you looked up and saw the same woman from before holding up a gun.

She shot at Sevika, the casing holding the shimmer for her arm in shattering as she stumbled back.

You saw her coming to the corner as you headed out, finding another hiding spot around a dumpster as you watched it all play out.

"Why did you let her go?" Vi asked, looking up at the woman as she jumped down and walked towards her.

"Do you ever say thank you?" The woman asked, putting her gun away.

"He's gonna know we're here now."

"Yeah, like you beating up his right hand man is gonna be subtle, Vi." You scoffed under your breath, she never did really think before acting.

"Whose fault is that?" The woman asked, her tone sarcastic as she looked down at Vi. "You're an alright shot." Vi said after a moment. "I'm an excellent shot." The woman stated.

Vi sighed, lifting her hand up to the woman. "You gonna help me out, Cupcake?" She asked, you raised an eyebrow at her nickname. You wouldn't deng, it stung a little bit.

"Stop calling me that. My name is Caitlyn." Caitlyn stated, grabbing Vi's outstretched hand and pulling her up.

"But you're so sweet. Like a cupcake." Vi continued, her teasing reminds you a bit of when you were younger. How she used to act like that with you.

Caitlyn chuckled. "Shut up." She supporte Vi, helping her walk.

You stood there for a moment as they left, looking down as you processed it all. She looked really comfortable around her.

You shook your head, you had to go. Go find Ekko and tell him about it all.

You turned your hoverboard around, flying off and back to the hideout. When you got to the dark tunnel you knocked on the metal door, the rhythm acting as a code as it slid open loudly.

You sighed, smiling at the familiar tree before frowning at Vi's face on the wall.

Ekko jogged up to you, smiling as he saw you and gave you a hug. You smiled at his gesture, living in the small moment before pulling away.

"Where's the food?" He asked, confused and slightly disappointed before he grew worried as he saw your face. You looked around, glancing at all the people around.

"Can I talk to you for a little bit? In private?" You asked, Ekko tilting his head a bit before he nodded his head.

"Yeah, come on." He turned around, walking off as you followed him up to his room.

He sat at his desk, tossing his mask on it as you sat on the foot of his bed. He turned his chair towards you.

"What is it?" He asked, curious as you hesitated. "...Vi's not dead." You state, Ekko looks even more confused.

"What? Are you finally losing it? Vi died." he stated, shaking his head.

"No, I just saw her in the lanes. She was with a woman, carrying a enforcer gun and she was looking for Jinx." You explain, Ekko didn't know what to do.

"She's in the lanes?" You nodded your head. "Then let's go find her. Because if you're right, I wanna know where in hell she has been." He said, you shrugged, standing up and walking to the door.

"Come on, the sooner the better." He nodded, grabbing his mask again and joining you.

You both then walked down the steps to the bottom of the tree, spotting Scar, a vastaya man.

"Scar! We'll be back." He called his friend over, the man nodding his head. "Do you need anybody else?" He asked, Ekko shook his head.

"No, not yet. We'll come back if we do." You state, Scar nodding his head as he began to open the metal door. "You ready?" You ask Ekko, the boy sighing as he walked through.

"Let's hope so."

You both stepped on your hoverboards, searching the Undercity for a while until you got to the old cliff. Shimmer addicts who didn't accept help usually stayed here.

You then saw Vi and the woman, Caitlyn at the edge of the cliff. Vi still was holding her side as she talked to her for a moment before jumping down. You and Ekko watched as yiu both landed on some old beams sticking out.

Them you saw Caitlyn jump in after her, you looked back at Ekko as he looked at you. You nodded your head, Ekko staying silent as he watched the scene unfold.

"Who the hell is that?" Ekko asked, nodding his head to mention Caitlyn. "Caitlyn, heard her say it earlier when she got stabbed." You explain, Ekko looking at you in disbelief.

"You failed to mention she got stabbed!" He hissed at you, shocked as you just shrugged your shoulders.

"She seemed pretty close with that woman, she seemed to be able to handle it."

Ekko shook his head at you. "Come on," he threw his hoverboard back down.

"We gotta go get more people before she finds Jinx, or, Jinx finds her." He states, you nodded your head as you followed him.

…

You both got more firelights, flying through the Undercity to locate Vi before something caught your attention. Blue clouds in the sky.

"Ekko." You called out, catching hsi and the groups attention.

"The flair." You pointed to it, Ekko looking up as his eyes widened. "The same one?" He asked, you nodded your head.

"Come on!" You shouted, going towards it on your hoverboard as they all followed.

You guys got to a pipeline, on the other side you could faintly hear Jinx shouting.

You went towards Ekko, putting your mask on as you nodded to him and the others.

You both then went through the pipe, the darkness lighting up a bit as you both came out the other end.

Jinx finally spotted you, her pow pow gun in hand as Vi and Caitlyn were with her now.

She began shooting at you both, the other firelights zipping past as you all went towards them.

Everything went by fast, fighting with Jinx and watching as Caitlyn got the daylights kicked out of her. Jinx was shooting everywhere, you kept sight of Ekko and watched as Vi and Scar fought.

She kept throwing punches, and hard as hell. She fought just like she was a kid still, blocking with her face but she was stronger now. Finally she got Scar down on the ground.

She turned around, seeing her sister smiling like she enjoyed what she was doing as she shot at everything. Her eyes widened, stepping towards her sister as Scar got up behind her.

"Powder!" She exclaimed, going to run towards her before Scar knocked her out cold with his staff.

You watched as Jinx stopped shooting, the firelights evacuating just as Scar lifted his staff to stab Vi.

You were about to stop him before Ekko beat you to it, placing his hand on his friend's arm. "Take her." Ekko told him, Scar was confused at his work before complying.

You sighed, it was finally over and you could breathe. You found your hoverboard, it had little damage to it as you stepped on it.

You glided over to Scar, the man lifting up Vi. "Want me to take her?" You asked, Scar nodded his head as he handed her to you.

You grunted a bit, sitting down on your hoverboard with your legs on either side and with Vi sitting in front of you.

Jinx finally turned around, seeing her sister knocked out on your hoverboard.

She then got angry, yelling and running towards you just as Ekko pulled out a smoke bomb you made and pulled the pin.

By the time it cleared you were all gone, Jinc looking around panicked as it slowly set in, Vi was gone. She had just gotten her back and just like that.

"Vi?" She asked, her voice quiet as she looked around. Her breathing picked up. She was alone.

Alone.

All because of herself.

Fucking Jinx.

"No!"

…

You had taken Vi and Caitlyn back from the hideout, standing outside and leaning against the railing at the top of the tree as Ekko was inside interrogating Vi. You had no interest in it.

You blanked off until you heard the door open, Vi squinting at the bright light as Ekko walked out. She watched him until her eyes found you.

Her eyes widened, you looked at her with a small smile on your face as she stepped forward.

"Y/n?" She asked, you nodded your head. You didn't have time to process before she was over to you, hugging you close to her as she clung onto you for dear life.

"So you did miss me?" You asked, hugging her back and closing your eyes. "How could I not?" She chuckled, almost like she was crying as she held you close to her heart.

"I dont know. You seemed pretty close to that enforcer girl." You chuckled, Vi shaking her head. "No. That was just Caitlyn, plus I like seeing her mad." She joked.

"Yeah, same old Vi." You shook your head, pulling away from the hug. She smiled, placing her hand on your cheek with her palm as she pushed some hair out of your face.

She couldn't resist. She missed you too much. And she was afraid she would never have this opportunity again.

You smiled before she leaned closer to you, pressing a small kiss to your lips as your eyes widened. When she pulled away she laughed at the shocked look on your face.

"Wow, when did you get so bold?" You asked, raising your eyebrows at her as she shook her head.

"Please, get a room." Your eyes widened, you forgot Ekko was there.

"Shut up, Little man." Vi waved him off, the boy rolling his eyes and waving his hand at you both as he went to walk down the steps.

"You both are gross!"

It was now your turn to roll your eyes, you laughed a bit though. Ekko was always the one trying to stay out of your love life, even went as far as to try and keep you away from Vi when young.

Claimed it would kill you.

But he was right in a way, your love for Vi would get you killed one day. But not today, 'cause she was here and so were you.

#vi arcane #vi x reader #arcane violet #arcane ekko #ekko arcane #scar arcane #jinx arcane #arcane jinx #arcane caitlyn

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batfamhyperfixation · 1 year

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Excerpt from the fic I'll probably never publish/finish writing:

(Context for this excerpt [If you want context/plot for the whole fic, you can ask]: Jason was going up against a villain and the villain left him in a room with gas that is supposed to slowly kill him. Backup is on the way, but he doesn't think they will make it in time)

It's sorta poetic. I died alone. I was brought back. I built new relationships. I repaired old ones. I tried to be better, I tried so hard.

And yet, here I am, once again dying while all the people I care about are off doing other things, not even aware I won't come home, not even aware I will die. At least this time there's no clown. This time there won't be as much pain. This time I have a phone.

I should call Bruce.

There was this one time, I was sitting at home and these Jehovah's Witnesses came to the door. Lian was at school and Roy was at work. It was just me at home. I don't know if it was because I was lonely or if I was just bored, but I let them in.

As we were sitting there, they were telling me about God, saying he is my father, that he forgives me no matter what, and he will love me unconditionally, no matter how many times I turn away from him. They told me that he will save me. I realized I didn't need any God, I already have someone like this. Bruce.

Maybe that's why, when things got dire, when push came to shove, it wasn't God's name on my lips, it wasn't God I was calling out for. It was Bruce. It was my father.

The phone was ringing.

Ringing.

Voicemail. Right, he's at work. It'll probably be easier this way anyway.

"Hey Bruce. It's Jason. I figured I should call you. I- I just wanted to say thank you. You took me in off the streets. You saved me all those years ago. I know- I know I disappointed you a lot, and I know I was mean, but also want to make sure you know that I know you were just trying to do what you thought was best. I-" I take a deep breath, but as I exhale, my breath is shaky. I grip the phone harder.

"To be honest, dad, I'm really scared. I- I don't think I'm going to make it out of this one. I just want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I went in too impulsively again. I'm sorry I disappointed you and I'm sorry I yelled at you. I know you forgave me, but I never actually said I'm sorry, and I wanted to make sure I said it. I miss you, and I love you dad." I lean my head against the wall. I think the gas is starting to kick in, it feels like there is this weight on my chest, making it harder to breath, deep breaths feel like shallow breaths. I'm sure talking isn't helping, but it's all I have left.

"Oh, and please don't let them bring me back. I can't go through that again. I know it hurts, but I want to stay dead. I need you to promise me that you'll make sure I stay dead."

"Can you say goodbye to Roy for me, and Lian. And don't let Roy isolate himself, he has a tendency to fall into his grief and let it suffocate him, kinda like someone else I know," I let out a little chuckle, but it is more airy than I expect, "I don't know how I got so lucky with the two of them. And make sure- make sure to say goodb-" my eyelids are getting so heavy, "goodbye to everyo-" my eyes shut for a moment, before I force them back open.

"What was I-" my arm is so heavy, I let it drop to the floor, taking the phone with it. I slump into the wall, sliding down it until my head reaches the floor. All I can muster is a mumble, "I'm tired. I might-" I can't keep my eyes open any longer. It feels like a boulder is on top of me, like my lungs are burning. Soon feel nothing as I fall out of consciousness.

#dont worry #he doesnt die here #the back up gets him and takes him to the med ward #but bruce gets out of his meeting and sees a text that jay is in the batcave in the medbay so he leaves work right then #bruce had spend all hours by jays side until be woke up even after they said he should survive bruce refused to leave him til he woke up #and later on in his office he is listening to all his voicemails and this one spontaneous comes on and it breaks him #anyways...#jason todd #bruce wayne #batkids #batfam #bat family #batman #jayroy #roy harper #lian harper #long post

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lavendercrow136 · 4 months

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Tell me this isn't goodbye love, part 5

When we eventually arrived at the pumpkin patch, Larissa parked the car. We made our way inside, and Larissa sat me at a picnic table while she went and bought our tickets, Wednesday and Enid sat with me admiring the fall foliage. Vermont as a whole was beautiful this time of year, but Burlington was a whole other level of colors for fall, it was a kaleidescape of color and the sun illuminated it all beautifully.

Wednesday snapped a picture of me with her old vintage camera,and I smiled startled by the flash. Larissa walked up behind me placing her hands on my pregnant belly and kissed my cheek, Wednesday snapped another picture. I laughed and Larissa kissed me, and I remember for a moment this being the happiest I had felt in a long time.

Larissa kissed my cheek again and passed Wednesday and Enid their tickets, and then me my own. I slipped it into my pocket, I looked at the tickets and smiled,

"Darling it says you bought the haunted hayride and house experience package followed by pumpkin picking"

Larissa smiled,

"It's your favorite holiday, your favorite time of year. The least I can do is allow you a bit of fun, I can run it by Dr. Cosgrove if you like love, but I hardly think anyone has been ever scared into having a child"

I smiled,

"Alright Darling only if Dr.Cosgrove says it's okay"

Larissa smiled and went and called Dr. Cosgrove quickly, she came back giving me a thumbs up, and we made our way to the que line for the haunted house.

Wednesday smirked at Enids nervousness and kissed her cheek,

"Baby it will be alright"

Enid blushed and moved a strand of hair out of her face. When it was our turn to go through the haunted house, Enid and Larissa went first both of them jumping and screaming, while Wednesday laughed.

Once we were out of the haunted house, we got some fried dough and hot chocolate from the food trucks and sat by the fire. Wednesday took pictures and we all talked and hate happily, Enid had all in hysterics,

"It wasn't so bad, Larissa you were so scared, that didn't scare me at all"

Wednesday teased Enid,

"Oh really sweet heart, is that what you were doing? Dancing for joy"

Enid playfully slapped Wednesday laughing and Larissa smirked. I leaned against my wife, and smiled she grabbed Wednesday's camera and snapped a picture of them.

"Weems, your chariot to he'll awaits"

A man in a skeletal masked announced, Larissa waved and we made our way over to the hayride. We climbed aboard and he drove us about twelve miles through dark forest with minimal props and a few scares. When the wagon came to a grinding halt,

"Alright get off"

Larissa looked at him shocked,

"I'm sorry, but this is not the end of the hayride and my wife is pregnant"

The man dragged me by the elbow,

"Don't care, not about to get all that blood on the wagon"

I panicked grappling with his arm,

"Please God no, no no no"

Larissa and Wednesday and Enid joined me outside of the wagon, and he sped off back the way we came. Suddenly we were completely alone in the dark, Wednesday and Enid and Larissa pulled out their phones for flashlights to help guide us.

We began to walk slowly through the woods on the path, when we heard it the all to familiar sound of heavy foot steps on crunching branches and leaves. Enids class instinctively came out and Wednesday grabbed me,

"We, we need to go right now"

Laurel Gates and Tyler Galpin stepped out of the forrest, Tyler in his Hyde form and Laurel in all black and a skull mask.

I grabbed Larissa’s hand, and Laurel sneered,

"Isn't this all so touching, the Scooby-Doo gang reunited again"

Tyler snickered his beastial forms teeth showing his lips curved in a snear, I whimpered my hands covering my stomach protectively.

"Do you see it baby? Scooby-Doo herself, Velma Dinkley the detective, Fred and a very pregnant Daphne"

Larissa shielded me with her body protectively,

Wednesday pulled a knife ready to fight, Enid already began to shift.

Larissa snapped practically snarling,

"What do you want from us?"

Laurel smiled sadistically,

"Oh that's so sweet so vicious protecting your little family, your school and all your little misfits. How cute, and so predictable of you Larissa. But that is the question isn't it What do I want? Tyler baby do you know what mommy wants"

She kissed his transformed face and he made a sound akin to a purr. Wednesday winced, Laurel smiled again and turned her attention back to Larissa, her voice radiating venom,

"What I want dear Larissa, is to cleanse the world of every freak and mutant like yourself, starting with your wife and you unborn children"

Tyler rushed us and Enid pounced on him clawing and fighting him, Laurel charged Wednesday and Larissa and she swung a blade at them wildly. Larissa looked at me frantically,

"RUN Y/N RUN"

I tried and Tyler cut me off after throwing Enid against a tree knocking her unconscious, he scooped me up and held me by my throat.

Wednesday dropped her knife and Larissa stilled seeing me be choked by the hide, Laurel caressed Larissa’s face with the blade.

"Tell me Larissa, do you know exactly how long the human brain can last before it shuts down and ceases function?"

I gasped struggling with the Hydes clawed hands, sputtering like a drowning victim for air. Larissa whimpered ,

"Please don't hurt her, tell him to stop Laurel please-"

Laurel made a quick gesture and the Hyde tightened its grip,

"Wrong answer Larissa, that's not how this game works,I'll repeat the question since I heard cognitive function slows when the mind is presented with stressful imagery. And surely"

She laughed,

"Seeing your pregnant wife suspended by her neck suffocating is stressful? I'll say it slower, how long can the human brain last without oxygen before it shuts down completely?please feel free to take all the time you need after all it's not your life on the line yet, feel free to phone a friend"

Larissa racked her brain and Wednesday spoke up,

"THREE MINUTES, ITS THREE MINUTES"

Laurel clapped slowly, mockingly, she leaned over at Wednesday very good. She made a flippant gesture and Tyler sat me down, and I gasped for air.

Larissa’s eyes met mine and she cried, and I felt the babies riggle in my stomach,

"We're okay baby, we're okay"

Laurel laughed,

"Such a touching display, larissa go to your wife"

Larissa crawled to me and kissed my face tears falling down her face she touched my belly feeling the twins and she relaxed. While her body shielded my own I speed dialed Galpin, he could hear everything and was tracking the signal.

"Why me Laurel? Why us?"

Larissa asked emotion strangling her voice,

"Oh my God you really are fucking dense, you were there that night my brother died, at that pathetic fucking Academy you never left, you all deserve to die"

Larissa shook her head. Wednesday stood screaming at Laurel,

"YOUR FATHER FORCED YOUR BROTHER TO BEING NIGHTSHADE POISON TO A DANCE TO KILL AN ENTIRE SCHOOL OF STUDENTS AND FACULTY BECAUSE THEY WEREN'T HUMAN, AND WAS KILLED BY MY PARENTS IN SELF DEFENSE"

Laurel back handed her with the blunt end of the knife, and Larissa rushed Laurel, Tyler swatted Larissa away from Laurel like a fly her head slamming against a rock rendering her unconscious.

I screamed, Laurel tilted Larissas head with the toe of her boot ,

"You just don't die do you?"

She kicked Larissa in the head and smiled, when her breathing had all but stopped.

"There much better"

I screamed in agony,

Wednesday stabbed Laurel in the chest hitting her heart and she collapsed aspirating on her own blood. Tyler shifted back to normal, he grabbed his own head pulling at his hair.

"Laurel no no no, honey wake up, p-please I need you"

Wednesday pulled Enid to her chest and she woke up, grabbing her head, Galpin arrived not long after Laurel had fallen dead. As soon as her arrived he trained the gun on Tyler, Tyler looked at him teary eyed.

Tyler moved not even an inch,

"Don't make me shoot you son"

Tyler made for it to run and Sheriff Galpin shot him in the head. I crawled over to Larissa and began CPR,

I slapped her chest ,

"Don't you die on me again, Don't you fucking die, WAKE UP! LARISSA WAKE UP"

The emts took over when I got there, they drove us all to the hospital they held me down while they checked the babies vitals and administered a sedative that wouldn't harm the babies and knocked me out.

When I came too, I asked for Larissa’s room at the head nurses station. I arrived at her room and Enid and Wednesday were sitting there reading to her,

"H-how long have I been out?"

Wednesday looked at me and spoke with a split lip,

"Eight hours, I called your Mother and she is on the way"

I nodded my head,

"What about Tyler and Laurel?"

Enid supplied the response this time,

"Dead"

I looked to Larissa and took her hand, I kissed her forehead a small cut stitched on her forehead from where her head collided with the rock.

Wednesday spoke up behind me,

"She is in a coma, the doctors don't know if she'll wake up"

I sobbed, and shook my head,

"No, no , no honey don't do this to me again...please wake up baby, wake up please. Please wake up"

I crawled beside her in the bed, careful not to put pressure on her. My mother arrived and she was crying, she kissed my cheek, and squeezed Larissa’s hand.

I stayed there for days, doing anything I could to wake Larissa up. I sang to her, read poetry and books to her, kissed her, she wasn't waking up. I held her hand leaning over the side of the bed,

"Baby please, please wake up. We need you, I'm so scared, our due dates tomorrow, please honey I need you"

I pressed her hand to my abdomen, when the doctors walked in and the twins kicked extremely hard.

I screamed in pain, what I thought had been a kick had been a contraction, my water broke. I hit the emergency button and the doctors rushed in.

"Okay y/n we need to take you to the delivery room"

I shook my head,

"NO NO I WON'T LEAVE HER, DO IT HERE I WON'T GO"

Dr. Cosgrove entered the room,

"Y/N, we can do it in here, I need you to calm down and do your lemaze breathing, do you remember the technique?"

I nodded my head, and she sent the nurses and other doctors to gather the supplies she scooted my bed closer to Larissa’s and helped me into a hospital gown.

She got me hooked up to Monitors and into the bed, I was capable of holding Larissa’s hand from my hospital bed. When my contractions were no more then a minute apart and the first of the twins began to crown and I was fully dilated it was time to push. Dr. Cosgrove looked at me,

"It's time to push Y/N can you do that for me"

I nodded screaming as I bore down with all of my might, I screamed and cried for Larissa,

"LARISSA PLEASE WAKE UP"

I pushed once more and screamed till my voice was raw, when the first twin arrived instantly crying. The nurses took him, and cleaned him up, and I pushed as the second baby was ready. It slipped out no problem, in a matter of moments I lossed consciousness.

Larissa POV:

I awoke to the sound of infants crying near my hospital bed, I looked over to see my wife unconscious and bleed8ng profusely. I stood unsteady shaky feet, I seized her hand and kissed her hand,

"Darling please, please wake up"

I sobbed smoothing my lovers hair out of her face,

"Please wake up Y/n come back to me honey please darling , I can't do this without you, please wake up"

Dr. Cosgrove had the nurses drag me away from her and I heard minor bits and pieces,

"SHES NO BREATHING GET ME A CRASH CART CLEAR, ALRIGHT AMP IT UP AND HIT ME AGAIN CHARGING NOW, CLEAR"

I slumped against the door way and it was like everything was in slow motion, they cleared the room,

"Larissa we need you to call it, we need the T.O.D"

I shook my head no, repeatedly, I shoved them out of the room to leave me alone with her I locked the door. And I closed the curtains, I kissed my beautiful wife's face and I recalled her earlier statement from before the pumpkin patch.

"I'm a half vampire psychic"

I stood up and grabbed a scalpel gently cutting my arm a small cut and squeezed the blood into her mouth.

"Don't you fucking die on me y/n, don't you die, tell me this isn't goodbye love you fucking tell me"

I closed her mouth, and charged the shock pads again and shocked my wife myself, giving it one last try.

End of Larissa’s POV

I gasped springing up from the table and clawed at my throat, it burned, I was so thirsty . The lights and the sounds of the hospital were so bright, and the only thing that kept me steady was the feeling of Larissa’s arms wrapping around me and her shaky crying breaths she kissed me softly repeating over and over how much she loves me.

"The twins are okay they are healthy, I'm gonna let the doctor back in now"

The doctors filed and looked Larissa and I over and when they had cleaned us up, and cleared us they brought the twins in . Larissa and I each held them,

"Hello my baby boys, hi were your mommys"

Larissa smiled and kissed my forehead,

"What are we going to name them?"

I smiled,

"I was thinking Tristan and Oliver"

Larissa smiled and kissed me,

"They are perfect, so which am I holding darling?"

I smiled,

"That's Oliver and this is Tristan"

Larissa nodded, we spent the evening sorting on the babies, I fed them both while Larissa supported me.

We were happy, and safe, and for the first time in a long time we could relax because all of those who had wished to do us harm were dead. When we were finally cleared we took the boys home, and Larissa came and got us from the hospital the day of Halloween our boys went home in their first Halloween costumes-pumpkins. Enid and Wednesday had picked them for us and had them dropped off with a note that said,

"You still got to pick out your pumpkins"

We had just set the twins down for the night after a bath, and feeding, when Larissa had rolled up her sleeve reveling a freshly done tattoo next to a cut that would surely scar and was stitched shut. The scar looked like a question mark.

"I remember what you said to me y/n, at my funeral, and those words stuck with me even yesterday when I was fighting to bring you back and I couldn't wake you up, but then you did and I was relieved. Do you remember what we said?"

I shook my head, I couldn't remember it seemed so far away, Larissa kissed me and removed the bandage that was hiding the tattoo, and in our handwriting read the words.

"Tell me this isn't goodbye, love?"

That is the end of this part, I could leave it here on a relatively happy note. Everyone's alive and safe except for Laurel and Tyler. Let me know in the comments what you think, and if you think I should continue.

@o1iviac1aire @barbarasstar @vii-v @winterfireblond @propertyofmilfs

#larissa weems #fanfic #ficlet

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shy-the-schizophrenic · 3 months

Text

My Last Letter To You.

Kris,

I'm writing you this letter so I can have closure and say everything I need to say before I block you. I don't understand how you honestly can do this to me. To us. You were given another chance. You promised you wouldn't hurt me again. You wouldn't drink. And look at you. You can't help yourself anymore. And your piece of shit coworkers are just that. Pieces of shit. You lied to me. You blew off a night falling asleep with me to go get drunk with your coworkers. Your female coworkers. You lied. Once again. You can never be trusted, you've proven that to me. The one alcohol slip up, okay. But tonight? There was no reason. You chose alcohol over the beautiful love and life we could have had together. You told me to kill myself. Deny it all you want but I will never forget. You made fun of me for crying about you being with girls. You're a heartless man who spits venomous words at people he loves. Atleast tonight you didn't deny your love for me. Well kris. You killed my love for you. You proved to be like every other man in my life. You abused me. You're a drunk. It's disgusting. You're disgusting. I'm disgusted with you. I was disappointed, hurt, confused. No more. I know now that this is who you are. And who you are isn't deserving of me. I'm an amazing person. I've made mistakes but I'm a good person. I don't go out of my way to hurt people. I keep to myself. I continously work on my shortcomings. I saw a bright future for us. But now your future, I see it falling apart. You're going to lose your kids all over again and drink yourself into oblivion. Or you'll end up in jail. You're going to lose everything you've ever cared about just because you wanted to get drunk with some hot girls when you could have been with me. You think those girls are going to be there for you when you lose it all? No. Neither will I. I told you, you could come to me when you feel like drinking. When you felt low. Don't. I don't want any part of your life that you're choosing to ruin. I want nothing to do with you. You broke my heart for the last time. Only my ex fiance got that many chances. And I will not end up that girl I was with him. That will never be me. I should have seen your red flags. Your constant need to lie. How deep your alcoholism goes. I wish I did before I fell for you. But it's okay. Because you aren't feeling this right now like I am. And by the time you realize how low in life you are by losing me and choosing to go back to drinking, I will be fully over you and you won't even cross my mind. I will be free and you will be wracked in guilt and full of sorrow because your life will be empty all over again. And you can try to replace me. You never will. No girl will ever amount to me and the love I bore for you. I would have died for you. I would have done anything for you and you killed us. You killed my love and you will never revive it. I hope you feel every little bit of pain you've made me feel over the past couple months with your abuse when you wake up. I hope you realize what you've lost. Because it's absolutely too late. I'll tell you goodbye but you will never hear I love you. I won't give you that. You'll occupy my mind for a while. And it will kill me not to text you. But I'll be fine soon. I'll find joy in life again while you spiral downwards and for that I'm truly sorry. You don't deserve it. You have a kind heart but your demons have eaten you alive and it's so sad to see. This is why I never date addicts or alcoholics. Because I know one day they will relapse and I will have to watch them put their drug of choice ahead of me and everything they care about. I won't watch you waste away kris. I can't. I hope you get better. I don't see that happening at this point though. You don't want the help. You don't care about anything. You don't even love your children enough to stay away from alcohol. They deserve a better dad that and I deserve a better lover than you. Best wishes kris. Goodbye forever.

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nzn43 · 1 year

Text

A snowy heart

Warning: uh...gore and angst yeah you know the rules and so do I say goodb-

How many years was that? When they first discover he was a immortal. Not sure but all he knows is that he's been stuck..strapped onto the same table. He doesn't even remember how it got to this point but at least sometimes they clean the table.

With him being drugged so that he won't be able to fight back.

The things the doctor do was....well...painful to say the most.

The Doctor was nice though, he was okay. Mango can easily piece together that whenever the Man in the suit comes in which is nearly everyday to satisfy his sadistic thirst, The doctor has to keep him awake... luckily the doctor at least tries to minimize the pain. Although when the man in the suit is not here, he was fed and clean up.

Today was not the day apparently.

The man in the suit came in angry...though it felt much different.

"Doctor, I will be doing the procedure as for today"

"Wh-what? you can't jus-"

"I can't what? You know me for way to long. You should that"

They kept on arguing...Mango drown out the noises and stared at the ceiling. Being stuck at one position is tiring for him and his bones.

Sooner or later, he saw someone. It's not the doctor but the man himself. He can feel a shit eating grin under that mask of his.

Feeling a harsh push on his head, The man lean closer onto his ear(Stickman don't have hair but let's say they have one just...invisible)

"Listen closely, as I do the procedure...You will scream as loudly if not then..i'll make sure you will"

Silences waa met with his response. He didn't want to answer anyways.

The next thing he knows was something plunging right where his collarbone is and slowly made way to the line where the legs are connected.

Feeling the sides of him being pulled apart, the end and the start of the wound pulls apart too, letting blood seep out.

Mango whimper and almost to the point of screaming but more of just some parts of the screams broken down.

He felt his insides are expose and well..yeah they are.

Mango starts to pull on the restraints that had kept him down for years but it proves futile as cuts and drags were being made. Clamps to keep his body open where his organs would be exposed.

Mango stared and cried as a hand plunged and starts to ripe out. Although it would not be an instant, The man would make sure he felt pain by either a very strong punch or when he did dug his hand where the most vitals are, he make sure to stir.

One by one, emptying out him one by one as his screams starts to echo although it starts to die down after all he can't live with the most important organs. His eyes now fades into a plain white than black.

The man closed up, watching his body regenerate.

Mango was back..again where death is suppose to lead souls away yet it just a empty snowy forest. Top of that it is really cold.

He sat down, bringing his legs towards him as he shed no tears. The snow covered him as he tries to listen to a heartbeat to keep him warm yet nothing.

#A Snowy heart au #avm king orange #avm mt #alan becker #animation vs animator #animation vs minecraft

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indigowallbreaker · 2 years

Note

Hi! Rare-pair incoming but for the "100 to break a reader's heart" prompt list, will you do numbers 6 and 25 for Felix and Bernadetta? I love the idea of those two specific lines being said to each other and I really would love to see your take on it!!

(this is a request from WAY long ago when I took proper one-shot prompts. I still like the idea though, so I finished it and present it to you now. Hey, I don’t control the motivation any more than you do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

6. “Am I going to die?”

25. “If I leave now, I won’t come back.”

Gronder Field is littered with discarded weapons, blood stains the grass in most places, smoke still curls up from the main hill, and Bernadetta stands in the middle of it all with an empty quiver. The battle is over. The Alliance Army has won, her friends are safe. Most of her friends are safe. She’s hoping for one more.

She knows he’s around here somewhere. Her eyes have only grown sharper in this war-- trained to run towards danger now, instead of ducking into the nearest doorway. Bernadetta knows she shot him somewhere around here.

A grunt betrays his location. Swallowing her fear, Bernadetta races forward through the mist. There-- a blue cape splattered with red, an empty scabbard. Felix is struggling towards the treeline with two arrows through his right shoulder. Various other injuries-- how many are from the Empire, how many are from Bernadetta’s side?-- are scattered across his beaten form.

A dozen phrases run through Bernadetta’s head as she draws near. She settles on, “I-I’m sorry!”

Felix freezes, one elbow bent as if to push himself up. He aims a glare over his shoulder, teeth grit, left eye already darkening in a bruise. “You--” He doesn’t get any farther. Simply slumps into the grass, fists clenched.

“I’m sorry, we needed to stop-- Dimitri was--” Bernadetta shakes her head and kneels next to him. “Oh Bernie, what are you doing?”

An impossibly sound reaches Bernadetta’s ears. Felix is chuckling. He’s laughing at Bernadetta, his eyes shut, a few strands of hair sticking to his bloodied lips. “You always were an odd one.” His voice is muffled. Bernadetta cracks a smile.

She uncorks her last vulnerary. It’s not nearly enough, not with those arrows in him and who knows how many spells in his system. But it’s what she has left after this mess and she’ll give it to Felix gladly.

“Is the Boar dead?”

The question she’s been dreading. Bernadetta purses her lips. “Y-Yes. Hilda saw it happen.”

A pause. “Am I going to die?” Felix asks quietly.

“No. I’m going to make sure of it.”

All levity is gone from Felix’s expression, and his eyes close. Bernadetta feels like she just gave the wrong answer.

Thanks to Bernadetta’s efforts, Manuela’s healing, and Claude and Byleth’s words, Felix recovers and joins the Alliance Army. He seems miserable to Bernadetta. No one else sees it-- or no one cares to mention it. As long as Felix keeps helping them win, everyone is content to leave him be.

Bernadetta feels responsible. She didn’t kill Dimitri-- in fact she avoided him the entire fight-- but it’s her fault Felix is at Garreg Mach.

She tries to spend more time out of her room, tries to spend time with him instead, tries to hear that laughter again. They sit with cats. She recommends books. They go to the market together. She offers him candy.

But the smile is gone. Felix seems hardened now, like he’s put himself back in his shell and only comes out to fight. Bernadetta is an expert at hiding away, but hiding makes her happy. Felix isn’t happy.

When Claude and Byleth defeat Nemesis, Garreg Mach becomes a strange place. People are leaving, there’s talk of the future, couples tug each other to the Goddess Tower with rings and nervous faces.

For Bernadetta, there’s nowhere left to go but home. Every other place in Fodlan reminds her of death right now. It feels like there isn’t a spot on the map without some blood she spilt. After packing up, she makes the rounds to say goodbye-- leaving one, dreaded goodbye for last.

“I’m leaving,” she announces to Felix’s dorm room.

Felix is sitting on his bed, sharpening a sword, face blank. “Okay,” he says.

Bernadetta gulps. “I-I’m going home. And, if I leave now... I won’t come back.”

The whetstone stills. “Okay,” he says, quieter this time.

“I’m going to take over Varley territory. Home doesn’t have the best memories, but at least there won’t be any fighting. I’m so sick of fighting.”

“Okay.”

“So. I’m leaving.”

Felix resumes sharpening the sword. “Okay.”

Tears spring to Bernadetta’s eyes. She wants to yell at him, wants him to say anything else, do anything else besides scowl at ghosts. In the end, she only nods. “Okay,” she sniffs.

It’s not until Bernadetta reaches the front gates that hurried footsteps sound behind her. “You should have warned me!” Felix snaps as he draws level, pack thrown over his shoulder and swords strapped to his waist.

“W-W-Warned you?”

“You’ve been following me around for months but you couldn’t be bothered to tell me all that earlier?” Felix’s glare used to scare the socks of Bernadetta. Now she’s just puzzled. “I’m going with you,” Felix declares.

Bernadetta blinks. “You’re... coming home with me?”

Felix crosses his arms. “You said that home doesn’t have great memories for you. You really expect me to let you leave alone after that?”

Bernadetta fixes him with a glare of her own, confusion temporarily outweighed by pride. “I can take care of myself just fine!”

Felix huffs a laugh. A laugh. There’s a smirk across his face and he says, “Sure, but you’ll do better with me around,” but Bernadetta barely hears him. All these months trying to get him to smile, and all she had to do was yell at him after all?

Brushing past her, Felix calls out, “It’s south east, right? Let’s go before we lose more daylight.”

Fussing with her own bags, gigginess in her step, Bernadetta jogs to catch up with Felix. A happiness washes over her the likes of which she rarely feels outside the comfort of her room. Now that Bernadetta knows the secret to making Felix happy, she plans to exploit it as long as he is by her side.

#fire emblem three houses #felix hugo fraldarius #bernadetta von varley #bernilix #felidetta #WHY DON'T I KNOW????#idk if you're still out there anon but uh here?#writing is so hard these days y'all im just blowing where the wind tells me #breaking prompts #fe3h

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blackdogmotel · 2 years

Text

Feels Like Falling

Orym always gets back up.

It’s true when he’s not much more than a kid. Sometimes he thinks having less distance between the top of his head and the ground makes it easier to get up for him than larger folk. It’s certainly got its advantages— Will tells him he’s like a dancer, dodging through people’s legs to get the jump on them.

Will and Derrig are there to haul Orym up from the ground. One more spar, one more round. Orym pushes himself up, despite protesting muscle, despite screaming exhaustion, despite, despite, despite.

It’s enough to put him on the Tempest’s security detail.

—

Orym gets up, and Will doesn’t.

It takes a long time for him to move, and it’s not until someone’s pulling his arm does he fully rise to his feet. One foot in front of the other foot in front of the other foot in front of the other until he can find himself alone.

Getting out of bed takes a while, the day after. And the day after that. But the day after that, he’s packed his bag, and Will’s shield, and his sword in its scabbard, and headed down the cliffs on foot.

—

Orym gets up first, hand on hilt.

Dorian’s lips form a smile. “That sounds like a threat, Orym.”

“That’s what it was.”

He doesn’t sleep for a long time, the sound of spiders scratching in his ears.

—

Dorian is falling, blood staining the spotless mantle of his cape, and Orym is on his way, he swears he’s on his way to him when blackness takes hold.

It takes him a second, this time. Blood pumping in his ears, muscles protesting, exhaustion screaming.

When Orym opens his eyes again, it’s to calculate his roll behind the giant fey-thing, taking a swipe at its ankles.

Dorian is awake, holding a turtle to his chest.

“I could do this all day.”

—

Orym feels like he’s falling, but the primary input right now is spinning. The world is rushing by, and whoom, there’s the sail, cracking him in the shoulder, and oh, there goes the ship, sailing up and away— or is he going down?

Distantly, his shoulder hurts. Is he going to ever use his sword arm again? The distance to the ground seems too far for that.

Inexplicably, improbably, there’s Imogen.

“Hold onto me.”

Orym doesn’t think he could do anything else right now.

Later, laying on deck, watching the clouds go by, Ashton is the one to haul him up. One more round. One more walk. Up, up, up.

—

He’s staring at the sky. A sandstorm whips by, through the hair of… someone familiar. Will? Derrig? Are you watching? I found them.

It only lasts a moment, but this time is different than what happened under the Moon Tower. Selfishly, a pang his heart driving his clumsy fingers, Orym fumbles through his belt. Up. Get up. One more time, despite it all, he starts to rise. Not when he’s this close, and certainly not without saying goodb—

His hand thuds against the ground, the blue sending stone landing just out of reach.

Someone familiar.

“We’ve met before.”

—

Fearne is willing him, watching, wide eyed. The first to his feet every watch, recovering from a fall at impossible height, popping back up with blood in his eyes, Orym. Orym. Get back up. She’s waiting for the next rise of his chest, for a trip attack across Otohan’s ankles.

It never comes.

#critical role spoilers #orym of the air ashari #this is a ficlet don’t look at me too hard

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tomreview · 25 days

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goodbfoods · 4 months

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bish-plz-haha · 9 months

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Chapter 6

Ron placed his plate in the sink and looked over at his girlfriend. "What was that about, 'Mione?" Hermione looked over to him, eyes slightly hidden by curly hair.

"Well, I didn't exactly tell him the truth because that would only make it escalate quicker. Ron, that spell enhances feelings the longer its allowed to go on." Ron sent her a wide-eyed side-glance. "Not those kinds of feelings." She quipped. "But just feelings in general. Feelings that's already there. So, take them being the bickering children they always are and increase it ten fold. They're going to be impossible to be around." She told him. Ron only nodded in response and continued to rinse off the dishes.

"So what do we do?" Ron asked after a while of silence.

"Is there any way of you switching with him?" Ron shook his head. "Damn. Well, I'm sure that they'll be okay. I mean, the only way it could get worse between them is if it got to physical confrontation. And we both know how Harry is about that." She chuckled and kissed him on the cheek before saying goodnight and walking into their room.

Ron, however, was sat on the couch at 2 am, drilling over the information that his girlfriend had relayed to him. He knew she was right in not telling Harry about the long term effects. But nonetheless Ron felt his best friend should know at least something. So he made the decision to try and help his best friend as subtly as he could.

When lunch time on Monday rolled around, Ron stood from his desk of paperwork, slipped his robes off and made his way down the hall towards Harry's office. "Hey, you ready?" Ron asked as he slipped his head in through the cracked door but saw nothing. The room was empty. Ron closed the door softly and made his way towards the potions lab.

Ron walked towards the potions lab door, but stopped when he heard arguing.

"You're useless, Potter! How did you even make it past first year potions at Hogwarts?" Ron heard Malfoy say angrily. He expected Harry to have the same angry tone but his voice sounded light and held a hint of a smile when he responded.

"No idea. I guess I have to thank Hermione for it all." Harry laughed. Ron stared at the door in confusion for a second before deciding to cut the conversation short and walked in.

"What the hell are you doing here, Weasel?" Malfoy sneered. Ron ignored him and looked to Harry who was, surprisingly, behind the cauldron.

"Ready for lunch?" Ron asked. Harry nodded and looked into the cauldron then to Malfoy.

"Will you finish this up?" He asked. Malfoy looked relieved to be rid of the man for a while and nodded vigorously. Harry rolled his eyes, a small smile playing his lips, and placed the stirring rod down on the table. "Let's go!"

Lunch went by as normal though Hermione was finally able to join them. The awkwardness hadn't seemed to leave Harry or Hermione from the other night as they ate in silence, not daring to look at one another.

"So, what about that quidditch game last night, ey?" Ron chimed in, trying to defuse the tension but neither seemed to be paying attention. "Hermione gave me a lecture the other night on how complicated feelings can be." He said as he watched Harry. Harry's head popped up to look at him from across the table. He noticed Hermione mimicked the action right beside him as well. "Yeah. It's quite interesting how feelings towards something or someone are able to intensify and grow over a period of time. And if you're not careful, it may be with the wrong person- ow!" Hermione elbowed him in the side to silence him but he opened his mouth again to start talking before being interrupted by Harry.

"I mean, yeah. I guess it's cool how your brain can decide which person to like and dislike. But that's all I know." And the conversation was left at that. They moved on to a different topic to keep the conversation going until they were finished with their food and drink.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry walked out of the small cafe. Ron kissed his girlfriend goodbye after Harry hugged her and walked down to the alleyway. "I'll see you at home for dinner?" Ron asked her. She smiled and nodded at him before kissing him once more and walking in the opposite direction. Ron caught up with Harry and they apparated back to work.

"Do you want to come over for a drink later?" Harry asked. Ron thought for a second and then agreed. Harry smiled at him then turned to leave. "See ya at seven then!" He called over his shoulder and walked towards the elevator.

Harry walked into his office, gathering paperwork to fill out as he decided he'd go back down to the potions lab.

"Hey, Malfoy." Harry greeted as he walked in. Malfoy was hunched over a notebook, writing some things down before peering into the cauldron next to him.

Malfoy groaned. "What are you doing?" He sneered as Harry sat down on a stool.

"I have nothing better to do with my time than paperwork and I dont have a partner so, I thought it'd be nice to have some company." He explained. Malfoy rolled his eyes, mumbled something then sighed in defeat before going back to his work. Harry laid his things about a table before starting on some of the paperwork. Before long though, he was engrossed with interest at what the potioneer was doing. "What have you got there?" He questioned.

"An antidote to common poisons potion that's been sitting for two days." Malfoy explained.

"Why?" Harry questioned.

"I'm studying it. Trying to learn from it to make a better potion." He said as he wrote something in his notebook. A rack of test tubes sat beside him, all filled with liquids of varying colours and densities. Malfoy picked up a tube with a light green coloured liquid in it and poured a little into the cauldron. Steam started to rise from the cauldron and Harry heard what sounded like bubbles popping. Malfoy hummed to himself and wrote something into his notebook again.

Harry walked over to the table and leaned against it, arms crossed supporting his weight. He peered into the cauldron as Malfoy poured some dark blue liquid into it and watched the reaction the potion was having. The blue liquid seemed to stop the bubbling but there was almost like a frost forming on the top of it. "I've never been good at potions or anything but this is interesting." Malfoy hummed at the statement, not really paying much attention to the golden boy as he picked up a tube that held a lava pink coloured liquid. "D'ya wanna go get tea with me? After work, I mean." Harry nonchalantly asked, peeking into the cauldron.

The blonde spluttered and accidentally tipped the entire tube into the cauldron. His mouth opened and closed like a fish as he stared at the dark haired man, eyes the size of a house-elf's. His eyes quickly left Harry though as a small rumbling sounded through the room as the potion began to boil over the cauldron heavily. "Get down!" He called. Harry ducked under the table, joining Malfoy - of whom had a seriously pissed off face. Harry smiled at him sheepishly before an exploding sound erupted in the room. After a few minutes, they both climbed out from beneath the table to examine the damage. The potion had splattered everywhere. Goop piles were falling from the ceiling and the walls were now painted teal. "No." Malfoy said. Harry looked at him quizzically. "My answer to your question. No." He turned to walk out the door and Harry just sat back onto his stool - after vanishing the teal goop on it - and went back to the paperwork.

A few minutes passed and Malfoy walked back in, wand in hand. He cast a spell and the teal goop vanished from everything it was on. Harry looked up around the room, smiling at the work he had done. "Are you sure? I'm going to that cafe right down the street from where Ollivanders used to be. Moment Of Peace I believe its called. Good food and tea. Have you ever been there?" Harry smirked when Malfoy paused his movements. Everyone always claimed that Harry wasnt observant but he had noticed as he worked with Malfoy the last few weeks, that Malfoy always had a cup of tea from the small cafe. On one of his day's off, he had stopped by to see what was so great about the place. He had a cup of earl grey tea and a BLT sandwich. It was the only place that he knew of that served muggle food in the whole of wizarding England.

"Oh, um. Yeah. I go there often. I enjoy their tea more than anything else though." He said. Harry nodded and turned his attention to writing again. He wanted to get at least half of the paperwork done before leaving. Malfoy sighed heavily which caught Harry's attention once more. "Fine. I'll go with you. I was going there after work anyway. But I'm getting my tea and leaving right away." Harry nodded again and smiled at him before going back to his work once more.

"Alright, well, it's my time to leave." Malfoy announced around 5 pm. Harry looked up from his paperwork. He hadn't realised how engrossed in his work he had got.

"Alright, let me just pack up." Harry told him. Malfoy curtly nodded to him and waited patiently by the door for only a few moments. Harry packed his papers into his bag and quickly walked towards Malfoy. The blonde left before Harry had reached him, causing Harry to chase after him. Harry walked a step behind him down the narrow hall, trying to make conversation that Malfoy was taking no part in. They reached the apparition point and Harry suggested a side-along - to which Malfoy sneered at even the thought. Harry raised his hands in defeat and apparated away. A second later, Malfoy appeared next to him in front of the cafe.

"What tea's do you recommend?" Harry asked him as he looked at the menu. Malfoy hummed and looked over the menu himself.

"Probably the white and green tea's." He said coldly. Once the line moved up so that they were in front of the cashier, Malfoy ordered and pulled out his wallet but Harry quickly stopped him, ordered himself, and then paid for both of them. Harry sat down at one of the tables near the front of the cafe while Malfoy stood to the side. Eventually though, Malfoy sat down across from him and Harry smiled at the blonde.

"Are you still into quidditch?" Harry asked after their tea's had come to the table. Harry had yet to receive his food but that was fine. Malfoy was still at the table with him even though he made it clear he wasn't going to stick around.

"A little bit. Not like I used to be." His voice monotone and his eyes blank of emotion, Malfoy took a sip from his cup. Harry nodded, mimicking his action.

"Ah. Well, Ron keeps me updated. So far, my favourite team - the Falmouth Falcons have been eliminated from the cup. The Holyhead Harpies are up six to two." He said. "The Tutshill Tornadoes are going strong as well. I usually root for the Falcons but since they're out, my bets on the Holyhead Harpies." Harry explained. Malfoy slipped from his cup, his face showing disinterest in the current conversation but he hummed along nonetheless.

"Merlin, I haven't flown in a while. Last time was, I believe, right before we graduated from Hogwarts." He mumbled, a shimmer of nostalgia in his eyes. Harry hummed in agreement.

"Yeah, it's been so long since I've flown as well. Been too busy to go flying sadly." Harry announced. After that, they sat in a comfortable silence. Harry had obtained his sandwich which was some kind of grilled burger that Harry had seen at Hogwarts but never actually tried. Malfoy got up after Harry started to eat, announced he was leaving then proceeded to walk out the door without so much as a glance back.

I'm sure you'll come by my lab uninvited again so see you at work whenever you drop by. Malfoy told him through thought, though the tone of the thought sounded annoyed. Harry chuckled and replied in thought as he went about eating his food.

Harry had come to find that blocking out Malfoy's thoughts and censoring his own was not as challenging as he had originally expected. Now he could do it with ease with most tasks - some were still a bit shaky when it came to censoring but he managed to get by.

Harry finished up his food and made his way home, waiting for Ron to join him for a drink.

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