#i kept thinking about this idea on the way home from the museum | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clockwayswrites · 1 year

Text

Like Betta Fish Do - Part 18

You all weren't supposed to get this until Monday, but to celebrate being released from the shadow ban! Have at it! Chapter 15 when on Ao3, MasterpostWC: 2353

Danny left the lecture with a smile on his face. It wasn’t that the lecture had been particularly enjoyable or anything, no, Danny just had been smiling more often than not the last few weeks. It was hard not to when he thought about Jason and the fact that they were dating.

He had a boyfriend. A very hot, very sweet boyfriend who was amazing at planning dates. Aside from the museum, they had also gone back to the beach and the little city near it, and kept up with their normal meals and exploring the city. It all really made Danny realize how much the two of them had been practically dating before their actual date. It was a nice realization. It meant much hadn’t had to change other than being able to hold hands… and take advantage of kissing Jason. Those were changes Danny was very much enjoying.

The next proper date was Danny’s to plan (he had insisted) and different ideas were filling up his head. He wanted to make it as special as the dates Jason had planned for him. The museum had been perfect, after all. It was a lot to live up to. Today, though, was just going over to Jason’s for a meal and to watch something. He pulled out his phone and gave Jason a call to see what food he should pick up.

“Hey, Jay.”

“Fish, hi, um, can I— no you cannot!” Jason answered, sounding like he had turned his face away from the phone. Someone in the background answered back. “No, do not—”

There was the rustling and muffled words before silence. And then— “Hey little fish!” Whoever had just taken over the call was much more chipper sounding.

“Hello,” Danny replied, bemused.

Whoever it was let out a sudden meep as obvious sounds of scuffling filled the background of the call. “So, I'm Jason's brother, Dick.“

“Give me back my phone you fucker!” Jason shouted, his words slightly muffled.

“Hello, Dick.”

An exhaled oof of air was followed by a loud crash and what Danny was pretty sure was one of them kicking the other.

“You can't keep him from me forever!” Dick cried. “Anyways, I'm at Jason's.”

Danny could help but grin at the antics. “I gathered.”

“Right— back off Jaybird— want to come over for lunch? Since I’m, oh shi—”

Danny winced at the sound of the phone hitting the floor. They were really going at it now. He’d give them props for creative cussing. As he listened to the sounds of the fight, he made his way to the subway stop.

Finally, a slightly breathless Jason reclaimed the phone. “Sorry about him.”

“It's fine. Want to put in an order at the Malaysian place for us and I'll pick it up? I'm already on my way over.”

“No,” Jason said (whined, really, though Danny knew he’d deny it). “Don't give into his demands.”

“Victory!” came a strangled cry. From the winded sound, Danny would bet Jason had his brother pinned, maybe even in a choke hold.

“I don't think he's really going to give up,” Danny pointed out. Jason was quiet. Quiet enough that Danny started to backtrack. “Hey, if you don't want me to meet your family—”

“No! It's not… I'll put in an order. It will be under your name. I'm making Dick pay though.”

“Still won!“ Came the shout from Dick before Jason hung up.

“I’ve got it!” a voice that wasn’t Jason called out from inside of the apartment.

Danny did his best to resist the urge to fidget.

Now that he was standing outside of the apartment the reality that Danny was about to meet someone from Jason’s family hit home. And Jason’s family were Waynes. He took a deep breath and tried not to panic. That, of course, meant his brain had time to run through a dozen worst case scenarios by the time the door swung open.

The Dick Grayson that stood in the door was every bit the male model that society pages liked to claim. His smile was even more blinding in person and maybe even a little infectious. Danny found he couldn’t help but smile back, even if it was a little wan and nervous.

“Oh my- Jaybird!” Dick called over his shoulder. “You didn’t tell me how adorable he was!”

Danny felt his cheeks flush red.

Dick spun back to Danny. “Are you a hugger?”

“I— yes?”

There was barely time for Danny to squeak out the words before Dick had scooped him up in a crushing hug. Oh. Okay, that was nice. Danny hadn’t been hugged like that since Jazz left for college and his parents stopped remembering he existed.

“Please stop smothering my boyfriend,” Jason called out as he came over.

“Hi Jason. Food,” Danny said, his words muffled against Dick’s chest. He blindly held out the bag of food in Jason’s direction, keeping the cardboard tray of drinks in his other hand.

“Hey, fish,” Jason said. Danny felt the food be lifted from his hand. “Do I need to get the jaws of life?”

“Oh shut up, Jayce,” Dick said cheerily. He squeezed Danny one last time before he let him go.

Danny took the opportunity to suck in a deep breath.

“Hi, I’m Dick,” Dick said, still grinning and offering his hand like a normal person.

“Don’t tell him!” Jason called out from the kitchen.

Danny leaned around Dick, absently shaking his hand as he did so. “What?”

“Don’t tell him your name,” Jason explained.

“He’s just been calling you ‘fish’ this whole time.”

“It’s driving him insane.” Jason sounded viciously gleeful.

“No,” Dick whined, drawing out the word to an absurd length. “I’m finally meeting you! You’re right here! I have to get to know your name now! I can’t keep calling you ‘fish’.”

“I mean,” Danny said innocently as he finally stepped in the apartment and closed the door behind him. “I like fish. Jason has been very creative with the name. It’s actually a little impressive.”

Dick narrowed his eyes at Danny. “I’m starting to see how you fit with Jason.”

Jason cackled from the kitchen. He set plates and utensils down on the table before coming over and wrapping his hands around Danny’s waist from behind. “My boyfriend, my side.”

Danny smiled innocently and leaned back into the hold.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dick said with a roll of his eyes, but he was still grinning happily. He started towards the table. “Come and eat or I’ll take all the roti for myself.”

“No, not the roti!” Danny gasped dramatically.

“Don’t worry, I got extra,” Jason assured everyone as he nudged Danny in the right direction.

“This must be yours,” Danny said, handing over one of the two blindingly pink cups of sirap bandung over to Dick. “Which tells me you are a man of refined tastes.”

“Just because you two have a sweet tooth—”

“Refined tastes indeed, well met,” Dick said over Jason with a fake British accent that would make Alfred wince.

“Indeed. Drink your longan juice, Jason,” Danny said, handing over the third cup to Jason, who just rolled his eyes.

They popped open all the various containers of food, sticking spoons or forks in them almost haphazardly. It became a jumble of hands for a bit as everyone got the first rounds they wanted on their plates. The table was quiet as everyone happily tore into the curries, rendang, and satay skewers.

“So, ‘fish’, if that is your real name, tell me about yourself,” Dick said after he had staved off the worst of his hunger.

“Um,” Fish (he couldn’t believe he had to call the guy fish in his own head) stalled badly as he completely blanked on what to say. Dick had the horrible feeling that people didn’t usually listen to what Fish had to say. “I moved to Gotham for school.”

“Gotham U? Or one of the lib arts colleges?”

Fish’s nose wrinkled adorably up at that. “Gotham U, I’m a total STEM. I’ll leave the books to Jason.”

“He’s a literature heathen,” Jason bemoaned. “But surprisingly dedicated to finding bizarre Jane Austen interpretations for me to watch.”

“You liked ‘the Lizzie Bennet Diaries,” Fish said, pointing at Jason with a skewer.

Jason stole the skewer to Fish’s indignant squawk. “I did, but ‘Persuasion’ was a mistake in every way.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fair,” Fish said, stealing a piece of tofu from Jason’s plate in retribution. (Oh shit, Jason was letting Fish steal his food!) “Not everything I find can be a winner.”

“Okay, but it sounds like you try at least! That counts for something. Got it though, science not books for the fish,” Dick said. “What do you like to do then?”

“Right now life is just a lot of studying and projects and papers,” Fish sighed. “But when I have time I like to play video games. And Jason has been showing me around Gotham and New Jersey.”

“So you swam in from out of state then?”

“Bus from Illinois,” Fish said. “It’s been a change for sure.”

“But you’re liking it?”

“I am, actually. I didn’t know if I would and there’s some things I don’t like— it’s always so… loud here, but the variety of stuff to see and eat is amazing. Like, I never had Malaysian food before moving here and now I don’t know how I would live without good roti just a call away. And, I don’t know, there’s just something about Gotham?”

“The city has a way of sinking into your bones,” Dick agreed.

“You aren’t from here either, right?”

“Nope! But I’ve been here for over half my life now. It’s weird and fucked up but it’s home and I love it,” Dick said with a shrug. “Think you’ll stay?”

Years of training kept Dick from flinching when Jason kicked him under the table.

The fish glanced at Jason for a moment. “Um, well, I guess that depends on if I can find a job or not. But I think I’d like to, if I can.”

“Sorry,” Dick said with a laugh. “You’re probably just worried about your next test at the moment. So exploring Gotham, school, video games— have you faced off against Jason in Mario Kart or Smash yet?”

“No,” Fish said, drawing the word out as he turned to Jason. “I am betrayed. Wounded. You didn’t tell me you played video games!”

Oh yeah, Dick liked Jason’s aquatic boyfriend.

“Just those two really.”

“And Animal Crossing. Our sister Cass got him totally hooked on Animal Crossing,” Dick said, bracing for another kick. Yep, there it was. “You should get him to show you his island. It has a miniature golf course and everything.”

Danny grinned. “Oh you are so showing me that later.”

The tip of Jason’s ears were bright red. “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Tonight though! Tonight we have an epic brother versus brother versus fish racing battle,” Dick crowed.

“Oh you’re just lucky it’s not Smash, you might actually have a chance,” Danny said with a slightly feral smile.

“It’s on.”

It was indeed on.

The races were fierce battles and the fish was no guppy, but Dick had been trained against other superheros and set after set came away with the crown.

Several sets in, Fish’s phone went off, making him jolt. “Oh, shit, that’s my alarm to catch the subway home. I better run.”

“I can give you a ride home if you want?” Dick offered, putting his own controller down.

“No, it’s fine! I know it’s still early, I’ve just got this paper to get finished up in the next few days and I’m making myself work on it some each night,” Fish said, leaning over the back of the couch to reach for his bag.

Jason reached out to steady Fish by holding onto the back of his hoodie.

Dick stole Fish’s phone from the gesturing arm. “I’m putting my number in.”

“What? Oh, yeah, sure,” Fish said, lunging forward suddenly. When Jason yanked him back, Fish had his backpack in hand.

Jason clutched Fish to his chest and sighed. “Fish—”

“I’m fine, you got me,” Fish said, grinning up at Jason.

Jason clearly tried to look stern for a moment before he sighed; his whole face softened with the act. He curled around Fish slightly, just enough to brush a kiss to Fish’s temple. “Course I do.”

Since he still had it in hand, Dick snapped a picture with Fish’s phone. He figured the two didn’t have a lot of photos as a couple yet, and they looked precious at the moment. It was clear how much adoration Jason had for Fish— and how happy Jason made Fish. Dick was glad they had found each other.

“Don’t forget your phone.”

“Thanks! It was nice meeting you,” Fish said, climbing out of Jason’s arms and grabbing his phone. “I’ll kick your ass next time!”

“You’re welcome to try,” Dick said cheerfully. “If only fish had more than a three second memory maybe you could get good.”

Fish rolled his eyes, but distracted himself by giving Jason a quick kiss. “I’ll see you this weekend?”

“Course, send me the plans. And text when you’re home safe.”

“Stop worrying,” Fish said as he swung on his backpack. “But I will. Have a good night you two!”

Both brothers bid Fish goodbye as he rushed out the door.

Dick waited till Jason had locked the door before, “Oh my god, Jaybird, you two are so adorable!”

“Dickhead,” Jason warned.

“No, I get to have this. My little brother has a boyfriend and is adorable with him! Did he send you the photo I took? Ask him to send you the photo I took and you’ll see too.”

Jason sighed, shaking his head as he came back to sit on the couch.

Dick leaned over to knock their shoulders together. “Hey, I’m happy for you. He seems like a really good guy. I’m glad you met him.”

“Yeah,” Jason said, that soft smile back on his face. “I’m glad too.”

-----

AN: And one of the Bats finally meets Danny! Or, well, Fish. That seemed to go well, right? Surely everything will be happy now. Are there enough fish puns/jokes? If not, feel free to suggest some! Much love to Moku for giving this an early read over when I was doubting the chapter.

Also I'm craving Malaysian food so badly now ;-;

Due to being shadow banned (they said glitch, but I still believe I got auto flagged for tagging too many people), I am no longer tagging for updates. It wasn't going to be doable in the new post editor anyways! To be notified, subscribe to this post instead!

#dp x dc #dead on main #like betta fish do #danny fenton/jason todd #danny fenton x jason todd

457 notes · View notes

shegatsby · 7 months

Note

Could I ask for Hannibal lecter with a former patient reader with extreme anxiety and fear of going outside and people? Maybe a house call for this little recluse?

(Would appreciate if they were also FTM but not a requirement)

Thanks!

-B

A/N; Hi B, thanks for the request even though it had been weeks since you sent it to me... oops. I hope you'll like it. Enjoy!

Warnings; Anxiety and panic attack, reader has phobia of going outside.

You were triggered again, you had a specific nightmare last night. In the nightmare you were being chased by your stalker (you had a stalker last year so developed a certain anxiety about going out. Thankfully he is behind bars now.) in the nightmare he was holding a gun and chasing you in the public but no one helped you. Except him. Doctor Hannibal Lecter. Due to your circumstance you sought professional help. You did a profound research about him and his techniques and you found nothing but good review. You decided to give it a shot and you didn’t regret it at all. You explained your situation to him in detail via email, he replied saying that he was glad to work with such an open minded and communicative young woman.

He urged you to go to his office for the first session but you were unwilling so you suggested to do it online, it was 45 minutes and when you were, put the laptop away… you felt a sudden relief.

The next session he suggested to go to a coffee shop near your home, you liked the idea and agreed.

It was a cold Baltimore weather so you both had gloves, long coats, he couldn’t help but notice how professional you dressed. A black pencil skirt, a dark red blouse, soft make-up, hair let loose yet kept under control and delicate hands holding your coffee mug. You were well mannered and put together. Also, your impression on him was the same as him, both of you had a mutual feeling for each other that day. Normally, Dr. Lecter had 45 minute sessions with his patients just like your first session. However, with you, it was more than 2 hours. The conversation was elite and brilliant that he didn’t want to leave that cozy place, after the session he gave you a lift and planned the next session.

Weeks passed and you started to go to his office, you had an idea about his environment but seeing it for the first time was something else. His office was like a mixture of library and museum, which both of those places were your favorite. When he saw the inquisitive shine in your eyes he let you explore.

You talked about your favorite books and art and culture etc.

You loved talking to him and he loved talking to you. Most of his patients were shallow and stupid but you knew your art and literature. After decades of being surrounded by peasants Hannibal found someone who got excited about small things and had her own brilliant opinions. Your energy was refreshing to say the least.

The nightmare you had made you paranoid, your door was locked, windows shot and curtains closed, you were in your pjs and in 45 minutes you had to be in Dr. Lecter’s office. It was impossible, you sent him an email about bot being able to make it today. Instead of replying by an email he called you directly, ‘’Hello, Dr. Lecter.’’

‘’Hello , Y/N.’’ he started, he had started to address you by your name few weeks ago and asked you to do the same but his demeanor and the way he held himself made you a bit intimidated. ‘’I hope you are well.’’ He continued, ‘’Is there a problem?’’ there was a silence. ‘’Yes, I don’t think I can come today.’’ You simply replied, covering yourself with blankets on your couch, total darkness surrounding you.

‘’Your voice sounds strange.’’ He announced, you didn’t say anything and he let a sigh of distress, He ‘’I’m coming over. Do not move.’’ And he hung up.

He knew your address, something in you kept you at your place or maybe it was his strict tone.

Some time later there was a knock on your door which made you jump from your seat, you grabbed a knife from the kitchen and walked to the door.

‘’Its me.’’ You heard his voice, ‘’You can lower your weapon of choice.’’ He added, how did he know that you were carrying a weapon?

You opened the door to him, he looked at you up and down and let himself in, closed the door and locked it. Seeing such a young and elegant woman being torn apart by her mental state made him feel something… he felt as if he was her savior.

You noticed that the second you saw him you felt safe, like a sense of warmness spreading inside of your chest.

You turned to go to the living room, he followed, this was the first time he saw your house, he was in awe of how clean and organized it was even though it was dark due to the fact that all the curtains were closed.

He sat on a single armchair, placed his leather bag next to his feet, his coat placed on his lap, you took your place among your blankets.

‘’May I ask what has made you… like this?’’ he looked around the room, ‘’I don’t want to talk about it.’’ You said like a little child.

‘’Are you hungry?’’ he asked to change the subject, you realized that you didn’t eat anything since you have woken up. He understood from your deep eyes and stood up.

Soon you heard sounds coming from the kitchen. You decided to get a sneak peek, he wore your red apron and cooking something from the things he found in your fridge. It melt your heart.

Hannibal Lecter wasn’t used to this but when he saw you like that he couldn’t help but be there for you, you were an interesting case for him and he even thought about keeping your mental health not worse but not good either so that he could keep having you in his life but it seemed like you were planning to be in his life for a long time weather as a friend, a patient or someone close..

Thank you. :)

164 notes · View notes

marlynnofmany · 11 months

Text

Just a Rock

For all the time I’ve spent traveling through space, I haven’t spend much of it actually out in space. It’s unsettling. Inside the ship, I can forget how close the airless void is, how small our precious bubble of air. But outside, everything is black like some vast creature ate all the color in the universe first, then the air, and is now hungering for life forms too.

Sometimes those distant stars look like teeth.

These are the thoughts that tend to pop up when I’m in my exo suit, hoping that my thruster pack doesn’t run out of fuel before I make it back to the ship. But then an empty pack of chips will float by my visor, and I can refocus on business.

That’s how it happened today, at any rate. (And yes, “day” is a silly concept in the blackness of space.) We’d made a detour to see if we could pick up some extra funds by gathering salvage from a museum ship that had gone kablooey, but so far all we were finding was trash.

Paint jetted past in her own exo suit, upside-down to my frame of reference, then stopped to pull apart a jumble of carpet fragments. “They really did clear out the good stuff already,” she said over the radio. She swatted aside a drink cup with her tail, looking like a little space-suited dinosaur, a thought that kept me entertained for a good few seconds.

Captain Sunlight’s voice said, “Keep an eye out for scrap metal. That may already be gone too, but it’s worth a shot.” She was somewhere else in the drifting junk pile, or maybe back near the ship; I couldn’t tell. There was too much stuff in the way. This was a mildly alarming thought — out of sight meant out of safety — but I caught a glimpse of the Frillian twins posted as safety guards at the edge of the cloud, and my heartbeat settled a bit.

“Do you think anyone will buy some mildly used carpet?” Paint asked the captain. “It’s only in several pieces.”

“Let’s go with ‘no.’”

“What about some very exotic — what is this — napkins? Made with authentic Earth wood fibers!”

I looked over at that. “How can you tell?”

“Oh, I have no idea,” Paint said. She held up half of a wall placard. “But this is from the Earth exhibit, so maybe the napkins are too.”

I looked around at the trash in a new light. “Man, it’s a pity we weren’t here for any of the good stuff.”

“Yeah, and all these food packages are empty! We can’t even get you a slightly exploded taste of home!”

I waved my hand through a cluster of soda bottles. “I appreciate the thought.”

Paint jetted over to a different pile of whatever. “Hey, do you think any of this food trash was actually an exhibit? Packaging from olden days?”

“Uh, maybe,” I said. “Probably not. That’s not the sort of thing I’d expect on a multi-species museum ship. A janky little humans-only one, maybe. But even then, most people aren’t going to care.”

Something clunked against the back of my helmet. I hate that. Nothing like a reminder that I can’t see behind me like some species can. I toggled the jets to rotate in place, so I could find the offending object.

It was a rock.

“What’s this doing here?” I asked, closing a gloved hand around it and bringing it in for a closer look.

“What’d you find?” Paint asked, sticking out sideways from behind a twisted bench.

“A rock.”

“A meteorite rock?” she asked. “Oh hey, do you think it pierced the hull?”

“No, it doesn’t look like a space rock,” I said, turning the small gray-and-white lump over. It was mostly smooth, with a divot that would have fit a fingertip if I hadn’t been wearing the gloves. “Weird. I wonder if it was part of some Neolithic exhibit or something.”

“Can I see?” Paint jetted over to park herself in roughly the same orientation as me. She was very good with that jetpack.

I showed her the rock. “It doesn’t look like any gemstone I know. Maybe some kid had it in their pocket, then threw it away.”

Paint cocked her head. “Is that normal, for your young to carry rocks around?”

“Sure. You never picked up something you thought was neat as a kid?”

“Not a rock,” Paint said with exaggerated disdain. “A sweet-smelling seednut or herb, absolutely.”

“But look: it’s even got a little finger groove,” I pointed out. “You could stick it in a pocket and rub it for luck.”

“Could you?”

I smiled. “You could. You probably wouldn’t, but…”

“Why?”

I looked at the rock again, already fond of it. “I get the feeling that I couldn’t explain this to a point where you’d agree.”

Paint shrugged. “Probably not. But hey, we found you a souvenir after all. From probably the Earth section of whatever museum this is.” She grabbed a handful of colorful pamphlets drifting by. “The ‘Galaxy in a Bottle Museum Tour Ship.’ Who named that?”

My smile turned into a wide grin. “Humans.”

Paint grumbled about the unflattering comparison of an elite starship to a simple bottle. When she moved to toss the pamphlets away, I held out a hand.

“What’s that white one?” I asked. “It looks like a display sign.”

Paint flipped over the stack and separated the one I meant. “You’re right. Hey, it’s about a rock!”

I reached out a grabby hand. “Gimme.”

She passed it over. “Is it that rock?”

I read the title, then was gut-punched by familiarity. I’d heard about this. “Yes,” I managed, skimming the rest of the sign and holding the rock close. “This is Bethan’s Rock.”

“What?”

I fumbled to explain. “Ages ago, a kid visited a museum — a human kid — and learned what museums were for, then offered her favorite rock as a donation, so other people could appreciate it too.”

Paint cocked her head in the other direction. “And they took it?”

“Yes!” I must have looked a little wild at this point, but I didn’t care. “The adults agreed that it was a fine thing to donate, not to mention adorable, and the only one of its kind that I’ve ever heard of. More museums should house the occasional favorite rock, though I suppose they wouldn’t be as special if they did.”

“So just to clarify,” Paint said. “There isn’t anything valuable about this rock, except that one of your youths decided there was. And all the adults played along.”

I smiled down at it, careful not to let it drift away. “It’s the most precious non-precious stone I’ve ever seen.”

Paint stared for a moment. “It’s not even one of those shiny ones you like.”

I laughed. “I know!”

The captain called us back in at that point, having found one decent chunk of metal among the mountains of trash. We had a schedule to keep.

I folded the sign and tucked it into my suit pocket, but held the rock tight in my fist as I jetted toward the ship, working the controls with one hand. I was already thinking of the safest place in my quarters to keep it until we got ahold of the proper Earth museum authorities. Other humans would want to see Bethan’s Rock, after all, but it would be my honor to watch over it until they could.

~~~

(Inspired by this post. Long live Bethan’s Rock.)

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character of this book. More to come!

207 notes · View notes

notyourmajesty · 9 months

Text

Henry's Dog David, and How RWRB (the Book and the Movie) Explore the Meaning of His Name.

(GIF by @andysapril)

CW: Mentions of deaths, murder attempts, mostly from Bible verses.

An Easter Egg from the book that the film managed to incorporate in an entirely different context.

Henry naming his dog David is one of the things Alex comments on both in the film and the book. He finds the name particularly odd for a pet, and when Henry tells him later that the inspiration was David Bowie, Alex remarks that he could have just used the surname instead.

This is basically just me overthinking the way the book and the film added "David and Jonathan" to two totally different scenes haha.

David Bowie

youtube

There has been a lot of debate over Bowie's sexuality since the 70s, and possibly conflicting statements from Bowie himself over the decades, but he did leave quite an impact on queer people in his time (ref: this article). Henry both in the book and in the film has often turned to literature and art for inspiration, and solace, when it came to exploring his own identity as a gay man. All kinds of historical queer identities - both debated and confirmed - show up in the tapestry of people and ideas that have influenced Henry's own thoughts and ideas (Alex's too). So it definitely makes sense that he would name his beloved pet dog after one of those inspirations.

(notably, during Henry's dramatic entrance when Alex comes down to the UK for damage control, the song playing is Bowie's "Up the Hill Backwards". You also see him choose a Queen song for karaoke, which makes me want to really headcanon him as a 70s prog rock fan 😄)

David and Jonathan

In the book, Alex goes over the details of Henry's fact sheet with Nora and his sister June. When he mentions the name of Henry's dog, he claims his dislike for the name is because it sounds more like a "tax attorney" than a beloved pet (Ch 2).

In the film, it's his SS detail Amy who quizzes him. She responds to his quip about Henry's choice of name for a pet by telling him what she's named her own dog. It's a tiny, fun detail with no lasting importance in the film, but I feel it does work within the larger framework of how the film incorporates queer readings and figures too.

I see this as a reference to a popular reading of the Hebrew/Biblical story of David and Jonathan from the 2 books of Samuel. David was a shepherd anointed by the prophet Samuel (through orders from God), to succeed King Saul, and Jonathan was Saul's son who was extremely devoted to David and even saved him from his father's wrath. They were known to have made a covenant to each other soon after they met, and the first Book of Samuel gives us a picture of an immensely close bond between the two:

After David had finished talking with Saul, Jonathan became one in spirit with David, and he loved him as himself. From that day Saul kept David with him and did not let him return home to his family. And Jonathan made a covenant with David because he loved him as himself. Jonathan took off the robe he was wearing and gave it to David, along with his tunic, and even his sword, his bow and his belt. (1 Samuel 18, 1-4)

Interpretations of their relationship have ranged from close friendship to a romantic relationship, and there have been many, many queer readings on this pair.

In Casey McQuiston's RWRB too, Alex references both a saying from the Book of Proverbs (24:13), and the story of David and Jonathan in the same paragraph. This is in Ch 10, when Henry takes Alex to the V&A museum. This particular sequence is in the inner chamber of the museum, shortly after the couple dance to Elton John's "Your Song".

He compares himself and Henry to "a lost David and Jonathan", and it's pretty obvious why when you think of their devotion, and the tragic end of the relationship of the latter. Like Jonathan, Henry is a prince utterly devoted to one man, and sure that his family too will be against their bond. Like David, Alex is an outsider who the royal family may view as a threat to their stability, and therefore must be kept away. David's love for Jonathan is immense: he makes the covenant with Saul's son soon after they meet, and when he mourns Jonathan's death, he says "Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women." (2 Samuel 1:26).

This amazing post from @elipheleh explores this metaphor more in detail (as well as St. Chiara, and a quote from Oscar Wilde, who is referenced both in the book and the film as a writer Henry is fond of). It also speaks about the verse from the Book of Proverbs that Alex remembers, partly in Spanish, partly in English - Eat honey, my son, for it is good; honey from the comb is sweet to your taste. (Proverbs 24:13-14)

(Jonathan in 1 Samuel also has his own reference to honey - there is a story that chronicles a tense moment between Jonathan and his father, King Saul, due to Jonathan eating wild honey on a day when the troops were bound by an oath to fast (he had not heard the oath himself). He almost faces death by Saul's hand for breaking the oath the latter had made, but is saved by the other people in the troops. (1 Samuel 14: 24-46). I've seen different ways of this passage being interpreted - as either Jonathan being judged for disobeying an oath even though he was not around when it was announced, or Saul being viewed as foolish for making such an oath in the first place. The main point is, Saul is ready to kill his son for breaching a certain protocol, and it is the people who save Jonathan.

Similarly IMO, Henry is prepared to live his whole life in the closet viewing his sexuality as something that would bring shame to his family, but eventually recognizes that he has support. Both within his family (in the form of his mother Catherine and his sister Bea), and in the public eye)

At this point in their lives, Alex and Henry see very little hope that things will get better soon enough for them to unite. It is more than likely that - in their minds - this one romantic visit will be their last for a long, long time. Of course David and Jonathan - who parted ways in the hope of being reunited after the battle with Jonathan's father, and whose friendship/love met a tragic end - would be considered a fitting parallel for the situation Alex and Henry find themselves in.

The book has the space and scope to explore many, many images and symbols that could fit Alex and Henry. Whether it's in the letters they send each other, the references Alex learns more about as he figures out his sexuality. The book can - at the V&A museum - describe the statues the two men linger at in loving detail, making us more aware how poignant their temporary separation will be and how bittersweet this last dance is.

The movie's focus is different - the V&A scene is a (presumably) final, deeply intimate moment that lets Alex see for real the weight of his role in Henry's environment, and how little he expects to see his dreams come true. It also lets Henry see how determined Alex is to make his every dream a reality.

Most moments of highlighting queer literature or history are pocketed away in smaller sequences in the film, as small references and Easter eggs (eg. the books they recommend each other), as the film focuses more on the relationship and it's effects both on the men and the world around them. The V&A is more a visual backdrop for that bittersweet last moment where the two can find equal ground and truly understand each other. I think mentioning the names of the statues would take away from that.

The movie didn't need to include David and Jonathan. Why is why I'm truly, truly grateful that they still did. Even as a tiny, cute Easter egg that is supposed to be banter about weirdly specific pet-naming protocol 💖

#Youtube #Spotify #rwrbmovie #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox #henry george edward james hanover stuart fox #rwrb movie #henry fox mountchristen windsor #firstprince #taylor zakhar perez #alex x henry #nicholas galitzine #rwrb thoughts

77 notes · View notes

ghost-bxrd · 2 months

Note

So, I was skimming the Fae!Dick tag, looking for Dick's reaction to Bruce's "death" and Tim's trip around the world and this happened when I found it.

(I left a bunch of these as a reply but also realized that your activity might be very overwhelming and you wouldn't see it. I don't want you to stress of that, but, like a cat, I move my present to your pillow/inbox where you are sure to see it. Hope you like it more than a mouse. Though I'm leaving off the stuff not directly related to the scene.)

Tim goes on BruceQuest without telling Fae!Dick.

Tim had known that Dick would come for him. Probably... He'd had his hands full keeping Jason and Cass in the house and Tim could be unobtrusive. He had NOT considered what it would be like to be hunted by his older brother. Benignly hunted. Nothing that could hurt him, but Tim knew the instant that Dick noticed he was gone because he could feel an unearthliness nipping at his heels. The baying of the deer. The way trees where ever he went leaned towards him, reaching for him. But he had to keep going. He couldn't let Dick catch up to him until he KNEW for SURE. Not until he had proof that Bruce was really alive. Because if he wasn't and Tim told Dick that he was... Tim had no idea what would happen. But he couldn't be responsible for breaking Dick's heart like that (his own would be enough weight to bear).

He stuck to cities and museums when he could. Places it was harder for Dick to reach him. The League of Assassins tried to join him, they wanted him for something (and to know if he was right). Tim KNEW it was a bad idea, especially for them, but they kept trying. Even though they looked more and more wary and haunted every time they met up. Tim eventually allowed them to accompany him just to protect them from Dick's eventual wrath... His final destination was the desert. If he was right, this was the final location that could prove to him, to Dick that this was real. It didn't matter that the natural beauty of the desert would allow Dick to find him. If Bruce was out there, flung back in time, Tim could show him... if not then he was wrong and he would have to come up with an excuse for why he'd run off and accept the house arrest and benign smothering and being the primary target of Dick's... 'security features' for the foreseeable future.

From there, I can't decide if Dick shows up as Tim is being stabbed or before... if it's before Dick can join Tim in the cave and Tim can show him the bat carving, kind of a pleasant emotionally satisfying moment though I'm not sure that Dick would take his time instead of just grabbing his wayward brother. If it's as he's being stabbed, it's more action packed but I don't think Tim would have even a second to tell Dick about Bruce. Everything around them would be utterly destroyed.

Also, Tim will be experiencing house arrest and benign smothering right or wrong. Yes, it's good that he worked out Bruce is alive. THAT IS NO EXCUSE FOR LEAVING DICK'S SPACE, TIM. AND YOU WILL HAVE TO SUFFER THE OVER PROTECTIVE CONSEQUENCES. (Dick might even put him in an enchanted sleep when he has to wrangle the others. Just to make sure that he doesn't go anywhere. Is that in his wheelhouse? No clue. But I have faith that Dick would find a way.)

oof yeah sorry about that. This blog has grown so much since I started it I have trouble remembering and replying to everything sometimes >.<

I love this idea! Though I think that, as a fae tied to the forest, Dick would have a hard time entering the desert. He would manage for a short while (especially for his family) but it would also drain him pretty quickly. Much like a regular human who isn't used to the harsh sun and climate.

But yeah, I totally agree it would end with Dick dragging Tim back home with SEVERAL lectures waiting to happen.

Good luck to Tim trying to leave the manor--- ever, after that. (Jk, Dick would cut back on the smothering protectiveness eventually). But for several months every turn Tim tries to take that would lead him to the outside ends with the hallways suddenly branching off back to where he started.

Jason and Cass would be entirely unsympathetic to Tim's plight. (they were also worried)

#fae Dick Grayson #fae au

41 notes · View notes

anabdaniels · 7 months

Text

As long as you hold my hand

After a hard day, you met Jack at the bar, and he ends up surprising you positively.

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female Reader

Word counting: 9.8k

Rating: 18+

Masterlist

Warning: Not cannon copliant, alcohol, Jack's dubious flirt, extrasoft!Jack, a lot of nicknames, porn with plot and feelings, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, explicit language, p in v sex, brief mention of unpleasant male behaviors (but there's nothing to do with Jack), light choking, slightly rough sex, creampie, aftercare, cuddling.

“Your turn to order our drinks, bruv.” Eggsy reminded Jack, after finishing his beer.

“I’d already noticed, but thanks for the reminder.” Whiskey responded with sarcasm. It's not that he didn't like the youngest, but Eggsy could be incredibly insufferable at times.

“Y'get pissed off so easy, fella.” Tequila teased his friend some more, breaking out in laughter after that. Eggsy, already slightly drunk, looked like he thought this was the most hilarious thing in the world and laughed louder than he probably should’ve. Whiskey could only roll his eyes and look at Ginger almost in a cry for help.

“Do not look at me. It was your idea to end the day at the bar.” Ginger raised her eyebrows at the conclusion of the sentence, making Whiskey look ready to cry.

“Even you won't stand by me, Gin?” Jack was more dramatic than necessary, but given how determined Eggsy and Tequila seemed to be to upset him, it wasn't that far from a genuine expression of exhaustion.

“Bring me a margarita and we can negotiate my position as your lawyer.” she said as if the matter were really serious. Whiskey finally gave up and chuckled.

“And don't forget my beer.” Eggsy had finally stopped laughing and didn't miss a chance to speak up.

“And my rum.” Tequila spoke raising his empty glass.

“Okay, I'm on ma' way.” Jack adjusted his hat as he looked around, stopping his gaze on the bar counter “I bring your drinks, you two give me five minutes of peace and if all goes well, I won't be driving home alone tonight.” he said without looking away from the counter.

Looking confused and surprised by the sudden comment, Eggsy, Ginger and Tequila looked in the same direction as Whiskey.

“That beauty in the black dress? Just in your dreams, bruv.” Eggsy didn't even flinch before said his thought out loud.

“Don’t be so sure, kid.” Whiskey replied with a crooked smile.

“If you can talk to her for more than five minutes without getting kicked, after you've brought our drinks obviously, I'll pay your share of the bill and clear your share in the Statesman's stable for a month. If you fail, you pay my bill and shine my shoes for a month.” Eggsy suggested with conviction, having no doubt that Whiskey was going to decline the proposal.

“Done.” Jack didn't even think before agreeing “I hope your biceps are strong because there's going to be a lot of work in the stable.” after a wink, Whiskey got to his feet and walked to the counter, leaving Eggsy awestruck by the unexpected response.

After stopping next to the lady who had captured his attention, Whiskey ordered drinks from the bartender and kept a discreet eye on the woman next to him. He deduced that she was alone, since in all the time he was there he didn't see anyone with her.

When the drinks were delivered, Jack thanked the bartender and made his way back to the table before Eggsy showed up claiming his beer. Once his friends had their cups in hand, Whiskey straightened his leather jacket and walked back to the counter, for the first time in years feeling butterflies in his stomach from being about to approach a woman.

You've had a horrible day. Although you finally got your work cut out, things weren't much better. You loved your job as a curator at the museum, but sometimes things could get pretty stressful. Having a few drinks to try to relax was the best idea you had that night, even if, as usual, none of your friends wanted to join you.

You took your attention away from your glass for a moment when someone stopped next to you and it was a little hard to get your focus back to anything else. Cowboys weren't exactly your type, but it was impossible not to take a good look at that man wearing a good Stetson hat and a leather jacket you wouldn't dare imagine the price of, and no less remarkable was the well-groomed mustache on his face.

When the man walked back to the table he came from, you refocused on your glass of Jack n' Coke, starting to consider going home and tensing slightly remembering that you would’ve to spend at least thirty minutes in a taxi or uber with an unknown driver trying to make small talk and not even trying to disguise the prying eyes at your legs or cleavage.

It was fair to say that you were positively surprised when the cowboy walked back to the counter and stopped a little closer to you, but you kept looking around.

“I beg your pardon, miss. But can I ask you a question?” You turned your attention back to the man at the same moment you heard his voice.

“Of course. What is it?” you stared at him intently, curious for what's to come.

“Do you have a map by any chance?” he asked with a neutral expression on his face. You blinked two or three times trying to understand what kind of question was that.

“No, I don’t.” you answered totally confused “Why?”

“It’s a shame, 'cause I just got lost in the brightness of your eyes.” he replied calmly with an arm resting on the counter. You stared at him for a second as you processed what he had just said. When you were sure of what you heard, you couldn't help but laugh heartily. It definitely wasn't the approach you were expecting, but you couldn't deny that he hit on the kind of humor you liked.

“Okay, that's a new one.” You rested your face on your hand as you regained your composure, refocusing on him, who had a little smile on his lips. “I should’ve seen this coming.” you bit your lip lightly without breaking the smile on your face “Does this work?”

“I don’t know. Worked with you?” he asked with a smirk, raising his eyebrows. You pondered for a moment, tilting your head slightly to the side.

“Maybe.” you admitted still smiling a little.

“So, we didn't get off to such a bad start.” he teased and held out his hand to you “I’m Jack.”

“You have a point.” you replied and shook his hand, saying your name right after.

“May I?” he asked pointing to the empty stool next to you and you nodded promptly “So, what's a beautiful lady like you doing alone in a mid-range downtown bar?” he said after sitting down facing you.

“I had a shitty day at work, I can't count on my friends for anything but parties, and I really didn't want to go home and sink into a portion of fried chicken. So, drinking myself out of my problems seemed like the best option.” You shrugged it off as if it wasn't that important, but you wouldn't be venting to a stranger in the bar if you weren't about to explode with the whole thing.

But what shocked you the most about the whole process was the fact that he actually seemed to be paying attention to what you were saying, and his eyes remained fixed only on your face while you were talking. Definitely another thing you were not expecting.

“It's a shame, darlin’. And, despite the short time we've been talking, I'm absolutely certain that it was your friends who lost out here.” Jack said softly, his words accompanied by a smile that seemed really sincere. You smiled discreetly and took a sip of your drink.

“And what about you, cowboy? I noticed you're not alone, so what's a man wearing an expensive Stetson doing around here?” As you spoke you turned your body a little to be fully face to face with him while you waited for his answer.

“I came to spend some time with my work colleagues after a not so good day.” he shrugged and leaned his crossed arms on the counter “But the real question is how can you identify a Stetson so easily in this shitty light?” he seemed really intrigued by your recognition ability.

“I grew up in a rural town. I recognize an expensive hat when I see one.” you mentioned with a proud tone.

“I'd like to know where ‘cause you’re definitely not from the South and, taking a high guess, I'd say you're not even American. Where are you from, sugar?” Jack leaned his body forward a little, really interested in your answer.

“Okay, you got me there. You're right on both your guesses. But being this good, I think you can guess where I'm from.” you challenged him with a mischievous smile on your lips.

“You're not wrong, I already have a hunch and I'm pretty sure I'm right.” he paused briefly, looking deep into your eyes before giving you an answer “Brazil.” Jack said with conviction, and you couldn't tell whether you were more disconcerted by the right answer or by the pair of beautiful brown eyes looking at you.

“How do you know?” you asked, unable to hide your mixture of surprise and excitement. Jack looked at your mouth for a second before answering.

“Your accent.” he finally explained “You don't have much, but I can hear it.” he winked at you and straightened up on the barstool.

“All right, you've convinced me of your talent for observation. But you already know too much. I would like some answers too.” you said quietly, trying to ignore the chill running through your stomach.

“I’m all yours to interrogate as you wish, honey.” Jack said as he leaned one hand on the back of the stool you were on, subtly narrowing the space between you two.

You took a deep breath so as not to lose your focus with his proximity, but concluded that it hadn’t been a very smart idea when his scent invaded your sense of smell. The mixture of the woody perfume and the fragrance of the aftershave lotion was the best thing you had smelled in a long time.

You were aware that he certainly noticed that it took you a few seconds to get your train of thought back, but there wasn't much you could do about that.

“Well then.” you ran your tongue across your lips, as you pondered what you were going to say “You're certainly not a big-city man. You have well taste in clothing, you have a good pair of boots, a brand-new Stetson, but you don't have the manner of someone who grew up in the city.”

"Apparently I'm not the only one with observation skills." he mentioned with a satisfied smile "You got that right, honey. I like living here in Louisville, but I couldn't be more grateful I wasn't born here."

"That being the case, I think I have the right to know which town I should be grateful for the existence of the most handsome cowboy I've ever met." Finally, you gave up trying (and failing miserably) to disguise that you were completely into him.

"It's a fair reason." Jack laid a hand on your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb "Feel free to thank Bardstown."

"I've never been so grateful in my entire life." you replied as you rested your hands on his shoulders and wondered how you had managed to keep your composure until then. Calmly you extinguished the space between the two of you and it took a lot of self-control not to groan when his hand that had been on the back of your stool took hold of your waist and squeezed gently, while Jack busied himself with taking your breath away.

Across the bar, Eggsy was on the verge of having a heart attack as he shook Tequila and Ginger to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

"Don't worry so much, Eggsy. You'll love Statesman's horses." Ginger didn't miss the chance to mock the boy.

"She's right, buddy. You'll enjoy the experience of takin' over the stable." Tequila also seized the moment to piss Eggsy off.

"How nice that my misfortune is serving as entertainment for you two." Eggsy leaned back in his chair still staring in astonishment at the bar counter "How did he manage not to get excoriated the very moment he opened his mouth? I saw his miserable flirting when we were at Glastonbury, there's no way he did it."

"You believe it or not, he made it. So, I hope your credit card is handy." Ginger said very calmly, although she was controlling herself very hard not to laugh openly.

It took you a few seconds after the kiss to get your mind back on track. It had definitely been worth it not to go home to watch Me Before You with a pot of KFC. You didn't hurry to take your hands off Jack's shoulders, just as he didn't bother to let go of your face and continued stroking your cheek.

"Can I ask you a question?" you questioned in a slightly husky voice and he nodded in response "Do you have plans after here?"

"Actually, I don't." Jack answered promptly and brought his face a little closer to yours "And, considering your question, I assume you don't have any plans either, so I guess we can find something to do together."

"It was exactly what I was thinking." you admitted, unconsciously adjusting the collar of his jacket. Jack smiled and stroked your forearm with his fingertips.

"Look, give me a minute to talk to my friends to make sure everyone can go home safe and then we can spend the rest of the night however you please. Sound good, sugar?" you nodded at the same time, liking the proposal a lot.

"Sounds pretty good to be honest." you said sincerely.

"I'll be right back" Jack grabbed your wrist and kissed the back of your hand before getting up and walking over to the friends’ table.

You couldn't help but smile when you thought more about the situation. This man seemed too good to be true. He had the same sense of humor as you, he approached you in a really friendly way without acting like a predator, he listened to you complain about your day without even knowing you, even though he was about to go home with you he cared about making sure his friends would be okay, and he was certainly the most handsome man you'd ever seen in Louisville. You couldn't see any downside to spending the rest of the night with him.

Eggsy crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes as he saw Whiskey approaching the table with a satisfied smile.

“You fucking dickhead. How did you do that?” Eggsy looked more shocked than ever. Jack laughed and shook his head at the boy's indignation.

"You had a chance to quit, kid. Now all that's left is for you to develop a beautiful friendship with the Statesman’s horses." Whiskey said as he leaned his hands on the table. Eggsy rested his head on one hand.

"You left your girl alone just to come and piss me off?" the boy's British accent sounded more drawn out than ever.

"Not really. I just came to make sure y’all can make it home safely."

"Don't worry. The only one down is our British boy." Tequila said alternating his glance between Jack and Eggsy.

"Nothing we can't take care of." Ginger stated quietly.

"Will you guys take care of me? Awn, I love you guys." Totally groggy, Eggsy laid his head on Ginger's shoulder.

"It just gets better." Ginger laughed and looked at Whiskey "We'll survive our drunken child."

"Good luck with that." Whiskey said as he straightened his posture "See y’all on Monday."

After saying goodbye to his friends, Whiskey returned to the counter, stopping next to you.

"Shall we?" he asked holding out one of his hands to you.

"Sure." you took his hand and stood, smiling involuntarily when Jack intertwined his fingers with yours as the two of you walked out of the bar.

You cringed involuntarily as you felt the cold night air hit your arms, regretting leaving your coat at work. Noticing the chill on your arms, Jack released your hand and removed his jacket, slipping it over your shoulders.

“Thank you.” you thanked with flushed cheeks.

"Whenever you need, sugar." He kissed your forehead and held your hand again as you walked to the car.

It was no surprise to you that he drove a 70's Bronco, it was a good match. Whiskey opened the car door for you, waiting for you to get into the passenger seat, and closed the door, then walked around the vehicle.

Given the hour the street was empty, which allowed for a continuous commute. You leaned your head back on the seat and closed your eyes, feeling the wind ruffle your hair, and were able to relax for the first time that day. When the car stopped at the traffic light, you opened your eyes and looked in Jack's direction, smiling as you noticed that his gaze was already on you.

"You haven't had just one bad day, have you?" he asked leaning his hand on your knee. You shook your head negatively.

"My whole week has been a shit. I can't remember the last time I wanted to throw it all away before Wednesday." you admitted, placing your hand over Whiskey's.

"Which institution is responsible for making you so upset, honey?" the affectionate tone in his voice surely melted you a little more.

"Frazier Museum. I like my job, but sometimes things get complicated, especially when your partners use their friendship with you to leave everything for you to solve." Whiskey turned the hand that was on your leg to entwine his fingers in yours, gently stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. You looked down with a smile, unable to ignore the fact that your hand almost disappeared into his.

"It's probably none of my business, but I'm going to insist on suggesting that you review your friends list. I mean, they stress you out all week and don't even deign to accompany you to the bar on a Friday night?" Jack said slightly indignantly, alternating his attention between you and the avenue.

"You're probably right. I'm aware that they're a bunch of sons of bitches, but I guess I've convinced myself that I'm not going to get anything better and I've settled into this situation." you frowned for a moment as you noticed that only now you had realized how much your friends couldn't really be called that.

"I don't want to sound inconvenient, but in case you're going to renew your social circle, my schedule is free." Whiskey said solemnly, despite the smirk on his face.

"I'll take it." though the playful tone, you were serious "That's the first decent conversation I've had with anyone here in months."

"Count me in for a talk anytime." he kept his smirk but his tone made it clear that it was true.

"Since that's the case, I need to touch on an important matter. I don't want to sound like someone who pays attention to what I shouldn't but that's not the keychain that usually comes with the drinks." you said, looking at the keychain in the car for a moment and then turning back to look at Jack "Let me guess, you work at Statesman Distillery."

"Again, you're right." he glanced at you briefly as he spoke.

"I don't mean to abuse your sympathy, but I haven't been able to find a bottle of the 1963 Statesman Reserve anywhere in Louisville and I feel like you might be able to get me one." you said bluntly. Dealing with your weekly stress demanded quality booze. Jack genuinely laughed at your sincerity and nodded in agreement.

"I really didn't expect that." he said with an amused smile "You're not the only one with this problem, out of every ten calls at the distillery office, nine are to complain about the lack of the '63 reservation."

"I was pretty close to being the next one to call to complain." you stated in a laughing tone "What caused it anyway?"

"I can't blame you; I'd do the same." Whiskey raised his eyebrows slightly, looking at you as he stopped at another traffic light "We had a problem with the company that prints the labels, fortunately it's been taken care of. And you’re in luck, I must have two or three bottles at home, I can give you one." you couldn't help but smile broadly at the statement.

"I knew that a southern gentleman wouldn't deny help to a lady in need of good quality whiskey." you spoke as if it was something vital, not containing your laughter "But seriously, you will be contributing to the non-existence of my criminal record."

"Great, that will be my good deed for the week." Jack joked as he parked in front of his house "At this point, I think there’s something you will find interesting to know. At Statesman we have this thing where we nickname each person after some different drink."

"If you're going to tell me you're whiskey, I might as well bury what's left of my dignity here in your garden." you ended up laughing, feeling your cheeks burn.

"I'm not going to say it then, but it is." he winked at you and got out of the car, going to open the door for you.

"Considering your name is Jack, I get the joke and find it amazing, honestly," you admitted.

"If you thought that was amazing," Whiskey opened the door on your side of the car and leaned his arm on it "how much more enjoyable will it be if I tell you my last name is Daniels?"

“You’re fucking kidding me. There’s no way.” you were in disbelief, but at the same time laughing about it "Prove it and I'll turn it into a museum exhibition on Monday."

"As you wish, dear." he reached into his pocket and grabbed his wallet, then handed the driver's license to you.

"No way." you stated after reading his name at least three times to make sure you weren't reading it wrong "Ok, nothing else can shock me after that." you said laughing and handed back his driver's license.

"I will be waiting for my exhibition at the museum." Jack said as seriously as he could, putting his wallet back in his pocket and extending his hand to you.

"I think I'm going to need a longer deadline because by Monday I still won't have processed this information." you tried to speak as if it were really something serious, but your smiling expression did not allow such a thing. You took his hand and got out of the car. "But honestly, this just makes me surer that I really like whiskey, no matter which bottle it comes in." You had long ago given up disguising your interest in him, and even if you were going to try, your dilated pupils staring at him would give you away.

"I'm happy to help you analyze your preferences." Whiskey teased with a smirk and hugged you around the waist, gently pressing his lips to yours and making you sigh audibly. He kissed your forehead and then the two of you walked to the front door of the house, Jack keeping one hand on your back as he opened the door.

You looked around as you entered the living room, briefly analyzing the rustic décor, if not for the view of the street that the large windows provided, you might believe you were on a ranch in a country town.

Your focus changed when you felt Jack's hands carefully remove the jacket from around your shoulders.

"Be aware that with each passing minute you convince me more to drop in occasionally to visit you." you turned to look at him.

"That's the idea. I won't complain about having a stunning woman walking around my house." Whiskey tilted his head and deposited a kiss on the curve of your neck, causing goose bumps all over your skin.

"I won't accept complaints when you've had enough of my presence," you teased, taking the hat off his head and putting it on yours, knowing full well what that meant, and you enjoyed watching a mischievous grin form on his lips. "I know the rule, by the way." you winked at him and turned, starting to walk across the room. Jack took a deep breath and bit his lip hard, caught by surprise at your sincerity. He put his hands in the pockets of his jeans, crossing the room and sat on the armrest of the sofa, watching your every move.

You stopped walking when you got in front of the sideboard, looking carefully at the bottles of alcohol, not taking long to find the bottles of Statesman from the '63 reserve.

"You didn't lie about the reserved Statesman." you said still looking at the bottles.

"I wouldn't dare lie to a woman like you," Jack's deep voice echoed through the room.

"What do you mean a woman like me?" you questioned after turning to look at him.

"Smart, observant, perceptive, good at connecting information, attentive." just when you thought this man couldn't positively surprise you anymore, here he was assigning you more than three adjectives without having to include your appearance among them to make the list longer.

"This coming from a man who has noticed the remnants of my accent even though I have spent the last ten years speaking English." Whiskey shrugged, running his tongue over his lips.

"It's fair game after all." Jack concluded without hesitation.

"It definitely is." you agreed as you walked over to him, stopping beside the couch and sitting sideways on his lap. Surprisingly you managed to keep a neutral expression when you felt something hard in his jeans and it definitely wasn't his phone. "I hope you were serious about the whole me visiting you thing." you started to speak, passing your arms around his neck "Because I got really comfortable here." you looked down for a second as you said "here", making it clear what you were referring to.

"I’ve never been more serious in my life." Whiskey placed a hand on your thigh and encircled your body with his arm " You're welcome here anytime you want."

Finishing with your remaining breath, he kissed you hungrily, pressing your body against his. After a few moments, you realized that you were mounted on his lap, although you couldn't tell when you were settled that way. But you didn't think it was bad position, the occasional rubbing of his erection between your legs that occurred at this angle was definitely not something you'd complain about.

In the brief moment of clarity you had when Whiskey stood holding you tight against him, you also realized that at some point his Stetson had fallen out of your head. You sank your face into the curve of Jack's neck as he led you into the bedroom, his scent was inexplicably addictive.

Once in the bedroom, he carefully placed you on the bed, and took advantage of the fact that his hands were free to get rid of his own shirt and boots. Whiskey was about to unbutton his jeans, but your idle hands were faster. He didn't protest and just watched with full attention as you sat down on the bed to remove his jeans and didn't hesitate to stroke his hard cock over his boxers. He groaned in response to your touch, keeping his eye on what you were doing. You took that as a positive answer and allowed yourself to dare a little more, staring at Jack shamelessly as you removed his underwear. You couldn't resist finding out what it felt like to hold his hard cock with nothing in the way of contact, running your thumb over the tip and already imagining what it would feel like to have it buried entirely in your cunt.

He would gladly enjoy the situation for a few long minutes, but there was something he wanted even more at that moment. Gently he grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his cock. Whiskey made sure to look into your eyes as he deposited a kiss on the back of your hand and then he didn't even hesitate to suck your index finger. Your mouth was slightly open as you looked at Jack with baited breath. You were practically mesmerized by how stunning that man could be doing anything. And if you were already wet before, now you were undoubtedly soaked.

Without difficulty, he grabbed you around the waist and made you kneel on the bed. With no hesitation, Whiskey pulled off your dress and tossed it somewhere, then he grabbed your chin and kissed you even more intensely than before. You felt a shiver run down your spine when Jack brought a hand up to your back and unhooked your bra, freeing you from it without a second thought.

He took hold of your hips and settled you in the middle of the bed, resting his body on top of yours without interrupting the kiss. You moaned into Whiskey's mouth as your already sensitive nipples brushed against his chest. And this certainly did not go unnoticed by him. Jack moved his mouth to your neck and you sank your hands into his hair, not knowing whether it was the wet kisses on your neck or the feel of his mustache scratching deliciously at your skin that gave you the chills.

Whiskey caressed the sides of your body as he covered your breast with his mouth, slowly running his tongue over your nipple. You closed your eyes and pressed your lips together, trying vehemently not to moan out loud, gripping his hair tightly. Due to his attention to your every slightest movement, Jack realized how hard you were struggling to control yourself.

You were able to breathe more calmly when he touched your face and took his mouth off your breast, you opened your eyes and saw him propped up on his elbows, looking up at you with a tender expression.

"You don't have to try to be quiet, love. I’ll gladly listen to every moan and scream that comes from you." It was fascinating to you how sweet he could be to make a reasonably obscene declaration, and all you could do was nod in response.

He kissed your jaw and calmly ran his mouth down your neck and chest before sucking your breast again. You kept your hands in his hair and finally allowed yourself to moan as you really wanted to. Whiskey stroked your hips in response and let his free hand massage your other breast.

Despite pulling his hair harder and harder, you relaxed under his touch, feeling good like you haven't felt in a long time. Your body began to move involuntarily, and you could feel your womb reacting more and more to it all.

"Jack, please." was the longest sentence you could form, and you said it practically whimpering. He smiled against your skin and deposited a kiss on your breast before raising his head to look at you. Whiskey intended to tease you a little more before moving on, but when you opened your eyes and looked up at him with such a pleading expression, he knew he wouldn't have the heart to deny you the relief you so desperately wanted.

He spared no kisses as he made his way to where you needed him. You couldn't resist your curiosity and lifted your torso to watch him work on you. Being so self-confident and vain, Jack kept looking into your eyes as he pulled off your panties and positioned himself between your legs, kissing the inner part of your thighs, acting calmly while making you shiver all over.

"Jack" you called him in a wavering voice "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course, honey." he replied solicitously "What do you need?" you flinched a little before asking, wondering if it would sound too silly. Finally, you held out one hand to him.

"Would you..." your mind kept screaming how stupid that was, and you agreed as you realized what you were about to ask. You were ready to shrug your arm and die of shame for thinking that was a good idea, but he was quicker and held your hand in the most loving way anyone could. You couldn't hold back the wide smile that formed on your face. For heaven's sake, this man was definitely the best thing that ever happened to you in a bar.

"It's okay." Jack entwined his fingers in yours and kissed your wrist "Feel free to ask anything you want, sugar."

"You're going to spoil me if you keep being so supportive." you said in a joking tone, but it was more serious than you'd like to admit.

"But that's the goal. I was serious about wanting you around." you waited for him to laugh or make it clear that he was just mocking you, but he seemed sincere. And you honestly didn't know how to handle that possibility.

"I guess I could consider the idea." you couldn't hide your genuine interest in the direction things might take "But you'd have to give me a few more reasons to think about it." you couldn't help but tease him a little.

"If what I need to have you with me often is to convince you that it will be worth it, then let me convince you emphatically." before you could formulate a response, he buried his tongue in your cunt, giving you no choice but to cry out in a mixture of surprise and pleasure.

He was in no hurry, Whiskey had confidence in what he was doing and frankly you couldn't blame him, after all, you were wriggling around on the bed while moaning audibly, squeezing his hand as hard as you could, and the closest he had ever come to your clit were the two or three times his nose bumped into it as his tongue worked its way into your soaked folds.

It wasn't easy, but you managed to keep yourself propped up on one elbow as you watched his every move, you certainly liked the idea of having that view more frequently. Jack couldn't have been enjoying the situation more, being between your thighs while you looked into his eyes was heaven for him. You could see him flash a satisfied smirk and should've seen what was about to come.

“Puta que pariu.” you cursed as you collapsed on the bed when he licked your clit, too overcome with pleasure to be able to speak English. Whiskey had no idea what the words meant, but from your intonation he was sure it was something dirty.

You frowned and raised your head slightly in confusion when his mouth left you.

"Is there a problem?" you asked confused and he denied with his head.

"Just a request. You keep looking at me." he said so firmly that your only reaction was to nod readily, almost like a natural reflex. Under other circumstances your pride would never allow you to obey so easily, but his satisfied smile at your condescension caused you so many things that you couldn't care less about your pride.

It was more challenging than you expected to keep your eyes open when he resumed what he was doing. The situation of looking into Jack's eyes as he licked you like a hungry man would do was the obscenest thing you had ever experienced. And you definitely weren't complaining. Despite the slightly trembling legs and irregular breathing, you coped well with keeping your eyes open and it was noticeable that you took Whiskey's words seriously, since quite possibly the neighbors were listening to your little show, moaning his name amidst the most varied dirty words in an almost incomprehensible mixture of English and Portuguese.

When you were close to the edge, things got a little more intense and you closed your eyes, but were reminded that you shouldn't do that when you felt Jack tap your thigh twice. It was hard to open your eyes and even harder to keep them open, at this point your nails were digging into the back of his hand and you were pulling his hair possibly harder than you should have, but he didn't seem bothered, on the contrary, he seemed very happy to have your thighs squeezing his head. You couldn't control the involuntary movement of your hips when he slid two fingers inside you, making you moan even louder, even though you thought it wasn't possible.

“Puta merda.” at this point you were no longer able to know which language you should use, not even your full name you would be able to say by now “Jack, please.” you were not sure what you were asking, but you no longer had control over what you were saying.

You were sure that Jack knew what you needed when you felt him curve his fingers inside you with precision and hit the right spot. You arched your back and let out a cry as the orgasm overtook your body, making your legs tremble, and finally you collapsed on the bed, trying to cope with the intensity of the sensation.

Whiskey smiled broadly as he took a closer look at the mess you were, your irregular breathing, your fingers still clutching his hand reasonably tightly, the little spasms that still affected your body, and your hair that earlier in that night had perfectly aligned waves, was now totally disheveled and some strands sticking to your forehead from the sweat. He took his fingers from you carefully, knowing how sensitive you still were, and licked every drop of your taste from them. Jack settled himself next to you on the bed, disentangling his fingers from yours to caress the back of your hand. You opened your eyes, looking up at him with eyes shining, both from your genuine satisfaction and from the tears that had formed a few moments ago.

“You’re okay?” he stroked your cheek with his free hand, drying the one tear that persisted in falling with his thumb.

"Honestly, I can't remember the last time I felt this good," you admitted feeling your cheeks flush and sank your face against his chest "But we have a problem." you said tilting your head back to look at him "Since you've decided to get me on shaky legs, we're going to have to negotiate compliance with the hat rule." you said with a mischievous expression, although it was true. God knows how much you wanted to ride this cowboy, but you didn't count on the fact that he would leave you with weak legs before he even fucked you. Whiskey chuckled and pulled you onto him, holding your thighs.

"Unfortunately, that's not how things work, sweetheart." he sat on the bed, letting you mounted on his thighs "You can't expect to mess with a man's hat and get away with it." even though he spoke with a firm tone, the little smirk that persisted in forming at the corner of his mouth gave away his enjoyment of it.

"I understand that." you said as you passed your arms around his neck "But you've been a gentleman all night, I think we can come to an agreement that will please both of us." If it weren't for the feeling of his rigid length pressed against your thigh, you might believe that this was a serious conversation.

"You're right, honey. We can both get quite satisfied out of this." you smiled as he put one of his hands on your lower back and pulled you closer, while his other hand held your chin and he rested his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes "You're so beautiful, darling." You felt your cheeks burning but you had nowhere to run, your only option was to stare into Jack's tender and desirous gaze.

"You'll end up stealing my heart if you keep this up," you joked, although you were aware that that man could steal even your soul with that pair of brown eyes. Whiskey laughed and nibbled on your chin.

"If I accomplish this feat, I'll die a happy man." he concluded the statement by kissing the corner of your mouth and then kissed your lips, holding you tight against him. Your body relaxed involuntarily in his lap; Jack's large, rough hands were incredibly gentle as they caressed your body even when he groped you firmly. You scratched his back and moaned audibly as Whiskey sat you on his cock, at that moment making sure that you were going to comply with the hat rule. Although your body was still a little sluggish from the orgasm you had just a few minutes ago, having that man inside you was unexpectedly invigorating.

Despite your desire for him being gigantic, you still were in no condition to ride him the way you wanted to and Jack knew that. Being a helpful gentleman, he held your hips and helped you move, which took your breath away completely. You didn't want to stop kissing him, but your lungs needed some relief. You rested your forehead on Whiskey's shoulder, finally taking a deep breath and realizing that, even though it wasn't going to be an easy task, you needed more of this man. You took another deep breath before straightening up and looking at him. You couldn't help the butterflies in your stomach as you noticed how much his desire for you was evident on his face. You stood staring into Jack's eyes as you moved on his lap, still not believing how comfortable he had made you to the point where you lost every drop of your shyness.

At this point you weren't even trying to control your sordid thoughts, but you definitely didn't expect to let one of them escape out loud.

"Hold my neck." you asked involuntarily when he squeezed one of your thighs, and the way Whiskey smiled sideways and didn't hesitate to comply with your request made you feel your whole body burning in a very good way. He put just a slight pressure on the sides of your neck, but it was enough to make you moan loudly and tighten your cunt around him.

You were already on the verge of losing control and hearing him moan while grabbing your ass with his free hand was the last straw. No longer thinking clearly, you grabbed onto Jack's strong arms and rode this cowboy avidly as you had desired from the first moment you saw him in that bar.

Whiskey couldn't have been more pleased. He liked being the one in control, but his nature would never allow him to see any disadvantage in having a beautiful woman riding him. He paid attention to every detail of that magnificent scene, absorbed in everything he could notice: the way you closed your eyes and threw your head back; your flushed face and bust; the way your breasts swayed beautifully each time your hips moved up and down; your buttocks slapping against his thighs produced the most delicious sound he could hear that night. For God's sake, if Jack kept thinking so hard about how hot you looked riding him desperately in search of your relief, he wouldn't be able to last much longer. He had good distractions right in front of him and he didn't hesitate to entertain himself with them.

You could only grip his hair tightly when you felt Jack's mustache lightly scratch your shoulder and he began to distribute kisses, bites and hickeys all over your skin. He was in no hurry as he tasted the warm skin of your shoulder, then down your collarbone and into the space between your breasts. Although your knees were propped up on the bed, you could feel them trembling as Whiskey carefully nibbled your nipple and licked it soon after. This man was definitely good at everything he did with his mouth.

You couldn't handle it anymore; it was too much. Not just because had been a long time since you’ve had sex with someone, but because this was way better than you’ve expected. Jack was fucking handsome, handsome enough to make you cum without a lot of effort, however he seemed really dedicated to please you. He quickly learned what you liked and didn’t flinch before use the acquired knowledge. You took his hand that was in your ass and moved it to the front of your body, needing just a little more to reach the climax. Whiskey understood immediately want you wanted him to do and promptly moved his fingers to your clit, making you grab his forearm while your nails sank in the skin of his shoulder. As if you aren’t dizzy enough, Jack kissed you intensely and put a bit more pressure on the fingers around your neck. You whimpered and moaned in his mouth as you had the second orgasm of the night, not being able to move your hips anymore and letting your body collapse on his lap. Jack passed one arm around your waist and caressed your back, pressing a gentle kiss on your temple while patiently waited for your body to stop shaking and your breath to calm down. It took a few moments, but finally you managed to put yourself together. You straightened up and looked at Jack with a wide smile, just to find him smiling too.

“I’ll assume that I ain’t no longer in debt for stealing your hat.” you tilted your head slightly to the side, still smiling.

“You definitely have paid your debit.” he answered with soft voice “But that doesn’t mean we’re done for tonight, sugar.” before you could even think about, Jack rolled on the bed, letting you underneath him. Only now you paid attention to the most specific details, realizing that this man still fucking hard inside you and you enjoyed it really much, even if you were almost sure that you’ll be unable to walk tomorrow.

“I hope you know that I won’t be able to go home tonight.” you warned as you ran one of your hands through the hair that fell across his forehead.

“Even if you were, do ya really think that I’d miss the opportunity to sleep with the most stunning woman of this city in my bed?” Whiskey admitted with a smirk, sliding a hand over your arm just to reach your hand and interlace his fingers with yours “I’ll not waste any chance to have you close, honey.” you ran your tongue across your lips, really appreciating all of this.

“Very well, cowboy. I suppose I can spend the whole weekend here.” you tried to sound playful, but at this point you really wanted to spend more time with him.

“I like this perspective really much.” Jack affirmed with his forehead resting on yours, pressing a kiss in your lips “And I hope to please you enough to make you consider spending the rest of the week too.” he whispered and winked at you, resting his free hand in your thigh and kissing you. You pulled a lock of his hair and let out a content sigh when Jack started to move in a calm pace, stroking the back of you hand with his thumb. His body was pressed against yours, although he did not let the weight fall on you.

You tried to suppress your thoughts and feelings, but it became impossible with him being so loving. It was almost insane how much you felt comfortable and safe with him in such a short period of time. You only realized that you had tears running down you cheeks when you felt Jack drying one of them. You opened your eyes, totally ashamed and having no idea how you were going to apologize for this, but then you realized that this wouldn’t be necessary when you saw Jack with a little wrinkle between his eyebrows and a slightly worried expression.

“You’re okay, sweetheart?” he asked louder than a whisper, cupping your cheek with his hand. You nodded and sank your hand in his hair, thinking about the right words before you started to speak.

“I know this will sound so fucking stupid, specially considering that we only met a couple of hours ago, but it’s been a while since the last time I’ve felt so good and comfortable around someone. I guess I just got overwhelmed with everything. I'm not really used to being treated well.” you didn't know why you admitted the last part and looked away from Jack when you realized what you had said, even if it was the truth. You smiled when he kissed your forehead and somehow built up the courage to look into Whiskey's eyes again.

"Considering that earlier this evening you secured me a place in your new social circle, I don't think you'll have to worry about that anymore because, if you allow me, I'll make sure you feel that way every day." This was definitely not the answer you were expecting, but you undoubtedly liked the whole concept.

"Yes, absolutely yes!" you readily agreed "Even though it's been a very short time since we've met, I like the way things are working out."

"You have no idea how happy that answer makes me. And, after all, who is measuring how much is a short time?" and that was enough for you. Fuck that it had only been a few hours, you wanted Jack close to you and he made it very clear that he had no intention of moving away from you either. You didn’t give a shit about anything else.

You certainly caught Jack off guard when you held the hair on the back of his neck firmly and kissed him intensely, but he didn't think twice before responding.

Only when you softened under him, and began to rock your hips involuntarily, Jack began to move inside you again, causing you to sink your nails into the back of his neck (which would surely leave a mark) and squeeze his hand with reasonable force.

Whiskey was aware that your thighs would certainly be sore the next day and he really had no intention of making the situation worse, but the sight of you arching your back and begging for more broke his benevolent spirit. Jack hooked one of your legs around his waist and smiled sideways when you voluntarily hooked the other leg around him. He held your hip tightly, sure to leave a bruise or two on your skin, but neither of you could care less.

"Jack, you said I could ask for anything I wanted, right?" you inquired with ragged breaths and a half shaky voice.

"Yes, love. Anything you want," he replied without turning his face away from yours, and the mixture of his raspy voice and gasping breath only made you more certain of what you were about to ask.

“Then, please, fuck me as hard as you can. I can’t deal with this torturing slow pace anymore.” if you had any crumb of pride left, at that moment it was gone. You no longer cared about pride or dignity, the only important matter was your urgent need to see and feel him fucking you as the rough cowboy he was.

“You’re sure? You’ll be terribly sore tomorrow.” Jack wanted to fulfill your request so badly, but he needed to be certain that you knew what you were asking for.

“If I gave a shit about the consequences, I wouldn’t have ridden you with so much effort. Go ahead, cowboy. I can handle it.” The almost devilish grin that was present at the corner of his mouth gave you the assurance that he wouldn't disappoint you. Jack kissed you one more time before he lifted his torso and knelt between your legs. He continued to hold your hand, and you couldn't deny that the ease with which he lifted your hips using only one arm was a highly memorable sight.

Jack Daniels was certainly a gentleman, but he was also a damn teaser. He knew how desperate you were for more, so he started moving even slower, curious for your reaction. You leaned your elbow on the bed to face him better, and narrowed your eyes at the satisfied and proud smile on that beautiful face.

“You’re such a bast- Caralho!” you didn't get a chance to finish the sentence when he finally gave you what you wanted so badly. You grabbed the sheet with your free hand and had no pity as you dug your nails into the back of his hand. It was an almost impossible effort, but you kept your torso up, you needed to watch every detail of every single time Jack buried his cock in your pussy and then pulled almost all of it out just to enter you again vigorously, making audible the sound of his thighs slapping against your ass. If the pleasure wasn't so overwhelming, you might have paid attention to how much your quadriceps seemed to be burning; definitely at least a week of painkillers and not even thinking about wearing heels. But honestly? It would be worth it.

Just when you thought the scene couldn't get any more pleasurable, you raised your gaze to Jack's face and holy shit, the man managed to be even more attractive with his skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat and his once-milimetrically aligned hair now totally messed up and sticking to his forehead. And as if it wasn't almost a crime that he looked so attractive, Jack made sure you noticed his gaze admiring every bit of your body until it stopped at your face, looking into your eyes as he fucked you.

At this point you almost lamented how good he was at what he did because you really wished you could hold on a little longer, but your legs were already starting to shake and the spasms were getting more frequent and, judging by Jack's grip on your hand, he was close to the limit as well.

"Jack" you just nodded, not needing to say anything more for him to understand what you wanted. He leaned over on the bed, laying his body on yours and resting his forehead on yours, still holding your hips. You released the sheet only to sink your hand into his hair, at this point you no longer had the strength to pull at the brown strands. You kept looking into his eyes as long as you could until you sank your face into Jack's neck when the orgasm came, screaming his name along with an almost incomprehensible stream of obscenities in a mixture of Portuguese and English. You scratched lightly at the back of his neck as he squeezed your hips harder, entering you one last time and letting out a hoarse moan as he came deep inside you.

Jack released your hip and propped his hand on the mattress, kissing your shoulder as he caught his breath. You sighed as you curled his hair in your fingers and kissed the curve of his neck before laying your head on the pillow.

"Changed your mind about the weekend?" he joked as he looked at you, kissing the point of your chin.

"If by changed my mind you mean started considering spending next weekend here too, then yes." you replied with a smile, speaking in a lazy voice.

"I'll be waiting anxiously, honey." he said before pressed his lips gently in yours. Jack caressed the back of your hand and carefully deinterlaced his fingers from yours.

He pulled out of you slowly and got up from the bed, you couldn't help but stare straight at his ass as Jack walked to the bathroom. Now that the excitement had passed, you were beginning to feel your body heavy, especially your legs and your eyelids. You closed your eyes for a moment and relaxed back into bed, knowing that it would take no effort to fall asleep.

"Honey?" you heard Jack call, running his fingertips along your thigh.

"Yes?" you replied keeping your eyes closed.

"Just making sure you're awake." he replied as he gently spread your legs a little further apart, carefully beginning to clean you up. It was still almost a mystery to you how gentle this man could be after fucking you so hard. When he finished what he was doing, he planted a kiss on your knee, making you smile and finally open your eyes.

"Definitely a gentleman," you said with a satisfied expression on your face.

"Unfortunately, I can't say anything similar about you, Miss." you frowned uncomprehendingly, and he approached his face closer to yours "Next time you're going to stare at my ass, at least try to disguise it," he said as if it was something really serious and nibbled your jaw.

"I needed to make sure those jeans do justice to it." you replied with a crooked smile.

"Okay, you have a good point." he laughed rolling his eyes and walked back to the bathroom only to throw the towel he had cleaned you with into the laundry basket and turn off the light, as well as the lights in the bedroom. He closed the curtains to make sure that the sun wouldn't be responsible for waking you both up earlier than necessary and finally returned to the bed, laying down beside you and draping the comforter over both of you. You settled on your side and couldn't help but look at him with an expression that betrayed that you wanted something. Jack smiled, fluffing up his own pillow, and stretched his arm toward you, patting his own shoulder. "Come here." You didn't hesitate to cuddle up against him and lay your head on his chest, still fascinated by how easily he could guess what you wanted.

"I hope you don't mind if I casually sleep in until two in the afternoon," you said, raising your head slightly to look at him.

"Very kind of you to think that I'll be up before five in the afternoon." Jack replied as he stroked your cheek with his thumb, then he moved a little closer just to kiss you softly.

Once the kiss was finished, he put his arms around you and let his face rest against the top of your head. You settled down, practically hidden in his embrace, and rested your head comfortably on his chest.

"Good night, sugar."

"Good night, cowboy."

Then, concentrating on his heartbeat, you drifted placidly off to sleep.

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels #jack whiskey daniels #Kingsman: the golden circle #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories

57 notes · View notes

avirxy · 5 months

Note

Hi! What do you think of an au where Claire never came back home after the events of First Frost, so everyone thinks she was kidnapped or ran away, maybe Blinky and AAARRRGGHH found her, so she ends up doing her Trollhunter duties alone, basically living in Trollmarket, but the other kids still get involved in some way?

Oh Anon we are so on the same wavelength, because First Frost was originally supposed to be a lot shorter, with this premise, when I started out.

So I’d say she officially ‘disappears’ in eighth grade, giving the kids time to bond and form a kind of coherent group, so when she does actually disappear it leaves a bigger impact than just right off the bat after Jim and Toby met her.

By the beginning of Sophomore year she’s still missing, and it’s assumed she’s either a runway or kidnapped but there’s not much evidence to back that, her parents are left in a state of disarray, Enrique is still born but he’s yet to meet his older sister.

Around Halloween Mary throws out the idea of heading to a party, it doesn’t end the way they hope.

They’re targeted by Bular, who believes the amulet has chosen a human due to the human stature this new Trollhunter has, he’s wrong of course but by the time the kids are cornered the real Trollhunter shows up, it’s impossible to tell who it actually is due to their helmet, which covers their face, but the five escape Bular’s ire.

Then Blinky and Aaarrrgghh show up after the attack, the Trollhunter tries to brush off the idea but the kids are taken down to Trollmarket for their protection until sunrise and basically given a rundown of why they were targeted.

Claire hasn’t actually told Blinky and Aaarrrgghh the full truth about her situation, as in she didn’t explicitly admit she ran away from home. Still she’s been living with them in Trollmarket.

The more Jim and co learn about what’s been going on under the surface of their town the more they begin to think that maybe Claire was attacked by Bular, or taken by the Janus Order. Blinky tries to dissuade them of the fact, because one, he knows where their friend is, and two, he doesn’t want them recklessly endangering themselves and gaining Bular’s ire again.

Claire won’t actually interact with her friends, due to the immense guilt she feels, and she’d left to keep the people she cared about out of Trollhunting specifically, now she’s still managed to involve them.

They’re rarely allowed into Trollmarket though, as Vendel disapproves immensely of their presence, it takes time but he eventually warms up and allows sparing visits so they can get more information from Blinky and Aaarrrgghh. Claire purposefully avoids the library at those times.

Barbara is the first parent to find out, after the four are given a Gaggletack for the surface, tipped with the threat of Changelings.

Strickler has an awkward dinner interruption after Jim manages to hit his shoulder to say the least and ends up fleeing, unable to face Jim and Barbara, the bridge is still being constructed in the museum.

Soon after Mary’s moms, Darci’s dad and Nana are brought into the situation, they hesitate the tell Nuñezs their daughter may have been an unfortunate victim to the creatures underneath their town. They’ve already been grieving their daughter for almost three years..is false hope really necessary?

By the Battle of the bridge the kids aren’t present for the fight, only Draal, Blinky, Aaarrrgghh and Claire are there, she frimly denies involving her friends in the fight.

Bular is killed by her alone, his mangled stone corpse left in the canal as a warning for any of the Janus Order.

Bular is dead, the threat is gone, she should go home-she can return to the surface.

But she doesn’t. She can’t.

The kids learn about the caves where Bular had kept the people he’d bitten and cursed. Barbara and Jim look into ways of contacting Strickler ,who disappeared after the Battle, surely he’d know if Bular had specifically targeted people.

Around this time Darci comes into an unfortunate accident with a gang of goblins, the Trollhunter intervenes thankfully but doesn’t get away unscathed.

Darci tries to help them but they pull away, grumbling they don’t need help.

It becomes an unfortunate occurrence, seeing the Trollhunter take hit after hit in battle, the kids try to assist but they’re quickly rebuffed. Each and every time, they’re also brushed with a weird sense of Deja vu.

The way the Trollhunter moves, talks, it’s so achingly familiar.

It goes on like that for weeks.

Until they find them curled in an alleyway at night. Their armor is off, and their side bleeds a sickly dark purple.

Darci is taken aback by how young they look. Trolls age differently of course but the ‘mighty’ Trollhunter can’t be anything more than a teenager in troll standards.

Their offer to help is finally accepted just this once, if only to keep her from bleeding out. But the pattern repeats itself and they find the Trollhunter willingly coming to them for help when they can’t take care of their injuries alone.

Claire knows she shouldn’t keep doing this, being in the armor is what keeps her a troll during the warm months, if she’s out of it too long she could start to change back, but she desperately wants to see her friends, see how much they’ve changed, and their kindness is something she’s absolutely taking for granted.

Angor Rot’s appearance makes things turn for the worse, he’s relentless, desperate for his promised soul in return for taking out the Trollhunter, Nomura isn’t senseless, she’ll do just that once he’s brought her proof. What better proof than the Trollhunters stone corpse?

The begrudging relationship the kids have built with the Trollhunter, who still hesitates to let them enter the fray, comes to a head when Angor’s latest attempt nearly succeeds.

Dawn is minutes away and Angor sends Claire rolling toward the edge of the incline, cutting her off, unable to reach any sort shadow or protection from the rising sun.

Angor knows, he has too, that’s why he’s watching smugly from the shade as her friends scream at her to move.

They can’t reach her fast enough, and in a desperate move the Trollhunter tears off their amulet, instead of a troll as the armor dissipates it’s a human, a girl, with long overgrown brown hair, edges faintly tinged blue, most of the dye faded out.

Then she looks up..

Jim isn’t sure he’s breathing, heart thudding in his chest, Mary and Darci have frozen beside him.

“Claire?”

#I may still turn it into a fic!#just a big consequences of our actions type beat #six chapters at the max lol #way back when I started first frost it would have taken more of this direction #but Claire wasn’t actually going to be the Trollhunter #then I realized I wanted to make it a bit longer and go through a lot of canon #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #toa #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski #darci scott #Mary wang #angor rot #asks #au #first frost

42 notes · View notes

nexusnyx · 1 year

Note

hello, i hope you're doing alright! i was wondering if you could write a tasm!peter fic based on the song "Honest" by The Neighbourhood! (it can be really angst, i won't complain) 🤭 Thank you so much in advance, and i'm completely in love with your writing!

i'm doing great babe, thanks for asking. and you? i secretly love writing angsty scenarios with my fav boyfriend so tysm for this one. hope you like it <3 | tasm!peter parker x gn!reader ; 1.4k

🎧 i wish you could be honest with me...

Despite the idea of a 'victory', Peter's bones screamed at him that it was all lost.

They ached.

No matter how much they hurt, he carried you all the way home in his arms, swinging from building to building while biting back his tears because a blurry sight was a terrible idea. Your arms holding tight around his neck grounded you to the present. Everything hurt, but it would be okay, he guessed. Hoped, with everything in him and a bit more.

Peter wondered why you stood by him.

"Peter."

"Not now," he asked—no, begged. The lump on his throat was hanging by a threat as thin as a hair, and he needed it to be as strong as his webs.

"Okay."

Nothing could erase the fact that you were hurt because of him. Because of who he was.

Peter accepts your silence with loosened shoulders and takes you home—his home, not yours.

The place you share with Felicity reeks of other problems and things I'm not thinking about right now and Peter needs to have eyes and hands only for you.

He needs his head still fixed on top of his shoulders as he cleans your wounds, and as always, you give him what he needs.

It's eerie staying in the silence with you, but he's grateful even for the weirdness in the air.

Embracing it means he gets to taste it, and if it stains his tongue, then it's real.

The blood in your stomach is metallic, hot, and sticky. The roof of his mouth tells him — warm, rich, precious — and his temples throb underneath the shower stream.

Outside your bathroom window, the noises of New York City deafen his ears to the sound of your teeth chattering.

"You know it has to be cold," he mutters.

There's a nod from you. Warm or hot water dilates the skin—it's not good for wounds that are starting to heal, baby.

It was your own sermon, back when you first discovered who he was and why he always had something purple and ugly painting some part of his body, or why sometimes Peter had nightmares that woke him up drenched in sweat and screaming until his throat was sore.

He couldn't just say—I'm sorry, because words of regret meant nothing next to the blood on his hands. Your blood on his hands.

Peter had a lot of things he kept to himself.

Most of them were ugly. Truths filled with rage, bursting with red, spiked energy of moremoremore.

Peter couldn't just say he was fucking glad he killed the people who laid their hands on you.

Instead, he finished cleaning you up.

That's how long you graced him with time to process—you allowed him to carry you home cradled in his arms, let Peter remove each item of your clothes, and clean, wash, and care for every inch of you until you were as okay as you could be.

Then you spoke.

"Now you."

Peter wanted to shake his head.

"Hey." Your hands reached up to his cheeks, cupping his face in your palms. Peter's eyes found yours. "Hi, Spidey."

You should've never said yes to me. "Hi."

"I know what you're thinking," your voice deepened when you were serious about something, and Peter felt himself swimming in your depths.

"Hardly think so."

"Can I take a guess?"

"Go ahead."

"You're thinking..." that going after you at that museum was a mistake. "That I would be better off without you."

It hurts again when you smile. "Close call." That smile—the softness around your edges that only he saw; he couldn't have stayed away even if he prayed to the skies for it. I was doomed from the start.

"Sucks to be you, Spidey."

He barked a laugh. "Oh—that's on the spot."

"But—" he braced himself for it. "It sucks even more for anyone who never gets to meet you. Because—when I met you, I found it again. I found... peace. And — call me cheesy, that's fine — I found that... some things just are. And they're beautiful. And they're colorful. Even though all the horrific, pale, lifeless things suffocating us. And you're that for me."

It hurt to keep all the horrible, poignantly sharp things about him locked away inside a cave, but Peter could have this.

His knees gave out, but you were there.

With arms wrapped around his upper body holding him firmly in place, cradling him into your embrace. You were there to place his head on your shoulders and whisper soothing words as he cried, anchored only by your hand rubbing circles on his back.

Peter cried in silence at first, but when all of his air ran out and he struggled for a breath letting the first sob rip its way out, all he could do was cling to you.

You held him with care.

He cried, thinking about that date in the museum and how he knew.

"So you have a spider?"

"Yup. Her name is Arabelle."

"Wow. Arabelle. That's not scary at all."

"She's not scary. Was she supposed to be?"

"I don't now. Most people are terrified of arachnids."

"Most people can't be trusted with most things... I mean. Have you looked around lately?"

"Wow—"

"—have you seen things? It's like... a nightmare."

"Very Black Mirror."

"Yes! Exactly! Very Black Mirror."

"What's a spider, right?"

"A beautiful and artistic animal. Not terrifying at all."

"What are you scared of?"

"Uhm... humans. First and foremost."

"Of course."

"Space. Angry geese. And people who are obsessed with nothing but true crime and horrible things."

He told you that day more things than he remembered telling anyone.

Peter still felt like an invisible hand gripped his throat most of the time. Maybe his control was slipping. Maybe traveling between universes unscrewed more things in his mind, but there was less regret and more fire than he'd had in years.

"But that's okay. You're allowed to be angry, Peter."

He feels dizzy— "I'm scared," he confessed, pulling back to look you in the eye.

All the soft glow you had when leaving the shower was gone—Peter's aura mingled with yours and he could see the bags under your eyes as well as the cuts on your face.

"I'd be weirded out if you weren't. That was scary." You patted his cheeks. "I haven't thanked you yet."

"For what?" he frowned. All he did was destroy. Break. Shatter.

"Saving me," you stated simply.

He stopped. His breathing slowed. "You saw what I did." He may not be able to say I liked it and I would do it again, but Peter's not blinded by the truth. You were there. You saw sides of him he wished didn't even exist.

"Yeah." So simple. Not a hint of judgment.

Peter held his breath. "You saw I could've stopped."

You smiled at him. "I wouldn't have."

Peter's world narrows down to the floor of his bedroom. There are parts of his body mending and stitching themselves up together as you two speak, but he feels as light as a feather. "What..."

"Peter, if someone kidnapped you, kept you in a dark room for 24h, and made you bleed just before bringing you to see me... I'd have done exactly what you did." You leaned in, sealing your lips on his. "And I wouldn't regret a second of it."

I love you.

Peter was unsure if the words are what he felt or an echo of your thoughts that he might've heard, but they released him of more than a hot shower and some stitches could have.

"Can I help you now?"

Peter nodded, swallowing the knot in his throat with the tears he bit back.

He no longer felt like crying.

"Yeah." You can do anything. "Thank you." I love you.

Your eyes said you heard the sentiment—or felt it, just like he did.

"C'mon'," you helped him get up, and Peter spent the night with you laying on his chest, wondering what else he kept locked away that was safe in your knowledge.

↳ my inbox 💌 | tip jar ♡ | ✒️ masterlist ↲

189 notes · View notes

itsgxsly · 1 year

Text

BREATHTAKING

Summary: Clearly, Pierre has something more beautiful to look at than the paintings and works in the museum.

Pairing: pierre gasly x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 831

“We can always repeat something that we have already done” Pierre suggested due to the lack of ideas. You pouted at his lack of collaboration.

“Oh come on, there has to be something new we can do. There are thousands of things in the world, it is impossible for any of them to be suitable for the date. It's good to change the routine sometimes” you complained.

You and Pierre had a tradition of going on a mandatory date at least once a week. The busy life that your boyfriend had due to his career in f1, and your studies taking up a lot of your time, you both agreed that you couldn't let that lack of time deteriorate your relationship, so you had invented that routine tradition that now, after a few years dating, you met each and every time.

That is why you were in the current situation. Normally you always did the same thing, a romantic dinner in a restaurant and a walk, or if you felt lazy, fast food and hugs on the sofa in your apartment were enough. But this time you wanted something different, even if it was a simple change of scenery, you thought that maybe it would suit you. And Pierre was more than willing to do anything if it made you happy, which led to a long conversation about what the date might consist of. But you were not able to agree on any ideas that you offered.

Everything was too tired, or cheesy, or expensive (although Pierre insisted that you didn't have to think about money) and more complaints. Until finally, after a well-deserved rest to clear your mind and analyze other ideas, Pierre's face lit up when he remembered something you had said a long time ago. So excited he ran to the kitchen where you were looking at your phone and stood in front of you.

"Let's go to the museum" he proposed.

"Museum? I thought those things bored you” you had always loved art, the delicacy and work put into each work attracted you greatly. But you knew it wasn't Pierre's kind of environment, so you didn't think of the idea.

"Mon ange, I don't care exactly where we go as long as you're there" Pierre didn't recognize himself in those corny words. But he couldn't help those things when it came to you.

Soon you were both dressed up and on your way to one of Milan's famous museums. Upon arrival, you queued for a while and finally entered the peaceful place. It was a Tuesday, so it wasn't very crowded and seriously, you could swear you were in the best place in the world. The beauty and delicacy of each painting and sculpture seemed to you the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

"This is beautiful. I think I could watch it all forever” you said in wonder.

"Yes, I think that too" said Pierre. But his gaze was not on the exhibited masterpieces. It was in you.

Since you had entered the museum, Pierre had not been able to take his eyes off you for a single second. He was completely dazzled by your captivating beauty. Even surrounded by thousands of works of art, you seemed to glow in the midst of them all, so ethereal. He swore if he looked at you for a few more minutes, you would end up taking his breath away.

You continued walking through the museum with your hands intertwined without separating at any time. You kept looking at each work and Pierre kept looking at you. What you thought was an hour later, you were exhausted from the walk, so you ended the appointment at the museum and left there to go home. You got to where the car was parked and before you could open the door, Pierre gently tugged on your arm and turned you so that you were facing him against his chest. He hugged your waist with his arms and you hugged his neck with yours. You had to raise your head to see him since he was taller than you.

“I loved the date. We should repeat it at some point” he spoke. His tone of voice was not very high since you were quite close.

“Mmm, I thought you were bored. I haven't seen you pay much attention to the paintings” you mocked him. You knew that he had been looking at you almost the whole time.

"Well, you can't blame me. I had something much more beautiful to look at right in front of me” now he was the one who boasted. You blushed under his intense gaze on your face and to avoid embarrassment you pulled him towards you to kiss him. You enjoyed his soft kiss while it was sunset behind your back. Pierre would definitely repeat that date as many times as necessary just to be able to look at you for the rest of his life.

EXTRA

Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 629,845 others

pierregasly I don’t need anything else🤍

View all 2,348 comments...

yukitsunoda0511 and what about me? I feel betrayed

yourusername love you❤️

charles_leclerc I think my invitation has been lost🙂

yourusername no, it hasn't🙃

wags.news all i need is a museum date with pierre😩

#formula 1 #f1 weekend #f1 2022 #pg10 #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #f1 fandom #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly blurb #pierre gasly imagine #fluff #museum #date #pierre #gasly

187 notes · View notes

imtryingmybeskar · 1 year

Text

Come Home Chapter Sixteen

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Word count: 4360

Joel is still not himself, reader decides she'd rather not deal with his moods and infected abound in the woods...

Warnings for swearing and canon typical violence.

Come Home

Chapter Sixteen- Try And Try

Avoiding Joel was easier than you thought it would be, and you suspected that was because he was avoiding you too. You had no idea what excuses he was feeding Ellie about why there had been such a dramatic shift in your interactions, but you ensured that you kept yourself busy enough that they could at least partially be backed up by the fact that you really didn’t have much time to yourself.

Farming was not something that you had ever attempted in earnest before and it was easy to slide into the rhythm of it to forget your other troubles, though the work itself was backbreaking and intense. You learned about calving and farrowing, how to prepare the land for intensive crop farming, helped to fortify the paddocks and fences around the pasture, repaired chicken coops, dug drainage ditches and fetched and carried an endless supply of tools to the blacksmith for repairs and upgrades. On a smaller scale, you also started your own compost heap, began to tend herbs and chilli plants in your own house and garden and every time you went out on patrol you ensured you came home with as much foraged fruit as you could.

Ellie was distinctly disgruntled that you seemed to take to the fields in a way that she could not, but she threw herself into her assigned chores with you, the promise from Maria that she would be allowed to accompany you to hunt outside the walls a powerful incentive. She was running a gamut of emotions of her own about what was going on, spanning quiet confusion to evident exasperation, and it hurt you to see her like this. It had been three weeks since you had returned, and during that time she had made various attempts to wheedle information out of you – asking leading questions, dancing around the subject, but you kept your silence about it all. Joel was her father, you were her friend. It wasn’t your place to tell her the events of the museum trip, and you didn’t want to broach anything around the subject too deeply anyway in case you accidentally let something slip about her birthday surprise.

“Did um…did you and Joel fight?” Her voice breaks into your concentration as you crouch before a particularly fiddly bit of broken chicken wire and you stand straight, stretching your back and wiping the sweat from your brow before answering her now direct line of questioning.

“No. Why?”

“I dunno. Just seems like you’re not coming around as much anymore.”

This was true. The very few times you had gone over to spend an evening with them, you had made yourself scarce after Ellie had made her usual excuses to leave. She seemed to be the only glue holding you and Joel together right now, and you had no real desire to be around him if she wasn’t there. He was beyond taciturn now, he was actively surly. Giving clipped, begrudging, surface level conversation that was usually polite but never warm.

“No, we’re good. We’re just both busy right now. Springtime,” you add by way of weak explanation.

“And he seems a little more…on edge than usual.”

“How do you mean?”

“He just…I dunno…he’s just more irritable than usual. And you haven’t been on patrol together in ages. He’s always with Tommy and you’re always with Vanessa.”

“Well, I think the dam is playing up again,” you answer. “Tommy needs all hands that can be spared to make repairs. You know Joel is good at that stuff.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Oh come on. I’m not stupid you know.”

You sigh deeply and cast around to find a way to explain what has happened while still not quite understanding it yourself.

“I know you’re not. You’re one of the smartest people I know. We haven’t argued, I promise. The dam really does need work and spring is one of the busiest seasons. We just don’t have time to hang out right now.”

“So why’s he so pissy recently?”

You resume crouching in front of the chicken coop and bend to your work again. “That you will have to take up with him. I have no idea what goes on in that head of his.”

If you were honest with yourself, you had noticed the change in him that Ellie had. He stamped around town with an air of grumpy malice these days, though you had been telling the truth when you said that you didn’t understand why. You had been racking your brains, trying to think if you had said anything that might have upset or offended him on that night, but had come up short every time. From what you could tell, he had woken up in a bad mood to relieve you of your watch and never really come out of it. The only conclusion you could draw was that he was pissed off at you, and you could think of only one event that might have precipitated this change in attitude. Well, if he was going to act like a dick about the whole thing, you were going to give him as wide a berth as you could. You even briefly considered moving into a different house, but the thought of starting all over again and getting used to a whole new living space was so exhausting that you dismissed it almost immediately.

There had only been one encounter where you had come into close proximity with him alone in the time you had been back in Jackson and it had been painful in several ways. You had been about to take your horse out to go scouting with Vanessa. The stables were fairly dark at the best of times, so you hadn’t seen him until you had moved right into the building and your eyes had adjusted from the bright spring day outside. He was clearly just on his way out somewhere himself as he was adjusting the straps of the saddle as you approached. You stopped still, freezing as if there was a brick wall ahead of you instead of the man you had once wanted to be so close to.

“Oh. Hi,” was all you could manage in your surprise.

“Hi,” he said shortly, giving you the briefest of glances before turning his attention back to his horse and dismissing you from his gaze.

The silence that fell was, inevitably, awkward. Your brain was screaming at you to fill it, to say something, anything. Ask about Ellie. Ask about the dam. Ask how his latest guitar project was coming along. But your mouth wouldn’t obey the commands of your mind.

“Guess you’re here for Amber,” you ventured. Fucking STUPID thing to say you internally berated yourself.

“Yup.” The brevity, the coldness of his tone hit you in the chest with force. This was far beyond even the aloof Ruggedly Handsome you had known. This was sullenness bordering on being actively rude and the hurt of it flared your anger in your chest. You hadn’t said anything more, merely prepared your own horse, and you hadn’t even spared him a glance as you heard him lead Amber away into the street beyond. You had tried. Poor and pathetic as the attempt had been, you had still tried. He had shut you down entirely. He was now actively ignoring you, or was so distant that he might as well be. And you weren’t willing to keep trying if he was going to behave like that.

On the day that you’re due to take Ellie hunting you’re up bright and early to make your preparations. You’ve ensured that your bows are in top condition, that you have a good supply of arrows for the both of you, and that your back up weapons are also fully loaded and well maintained. You had hopes that you might shoot some rabbits, but just in case larger game was taken down you had sourced a sled from a neighbour, their ten year old happy to loan it now that there was no snow to play on. Just as you’re finishing packing some food for you both, a knock comes at the door.

“Come in,” you yell, assuming Ellie will come bounding in demanding to know why you aren’t ready yet. But instead –

“Hi.”

Joel’s soft voice comes from behind you, startling you so badly that you drop the knife you’re holding to the counter with a clatter.

“Hi,” you reply as you turn around, trying to keep the puzzlement out of your voice and face. Was this the start of what you feel was a well-deserved apology? Would you accept it if it was?

You allow your eyes to linger on his face. He looks more tired than usual, as if he’s not been sleeping well or pushing himself too hard when he’s awake. The fingers on his right hand are drumming against his thumb in a seemingly unconscious gesture as his eyes search your kitchen floor for something – answers to some question you couldn't fathom, or courage perhaps. Your heart softens, just a little at the sight of him so worked up and the fact that he had finally come around to visit you. Would he…maybe want to come out with you both? Recreate for the springtime those heady winter days when the three of you would escape for a few hours at a time to go to skate on the frozen pond?

“I uh…I just wanted to ask…” He trails off looking embarrassed, one hand coming up to scrub at the back of his neck, his eyes still downcast.

“Yeah?” you prompt, softly. You’re willing to forgive his weird behaviour. You realise that you always were. You just want him back in your life. To help fill your hours with laughter and jokes and friendship instead of constant work to block out the swirling eddies of painful emotion.

“I wanted to ask…are you sure about today?”

The question shocks you from your place of wistful yearning to have the old Joel back and deposits you straight into irritation with his current iteration, a development which you are entirely unable to hide in your voice given its abrupt incursion.

“What do you mean?”

“Well goin’ out alone with Ellie. Are you sure it’s such a good idea?”

What the actual fuck? After everything was he seriously still questioning your competency? Your ability to protect Ellie?

“Worried about my panic attacks again?” you ask, not bothering to keep the whip of snark out of your voice.

“Not just that,” he replies smoothly, and the calm tone of his own voice only serves to fan your irritation into anger. “She’s not been outside Jackson much since we got here. I’m just concerned-“

“We’ll be fine, Joel,” you retort in a snappish tone. “And if you really don’t trust me to protect her, then you can be the one to tell her she can’t go.”

“Wait, what?!”

Ellie is standing in your back door. You hadn’t even noticed her arrival, so focused were you on your anger at Joel. He suddenly looks even more weary, and every bit his age as he turns to talk to Ellie.

“I just think-“ he begins.

“No, Joel. Fuck that. She goes out on patrol just as much as you do now. You trusted her enough to go with her for months. And me? Who the fuck took care of you while you were fucking dying in some basement? I did. I hunted for food, I got you fucking medicine, I sewed you the fuck up. I saved your life and I kept us alive. So don’t fucking give me this shit about not being able to deal with stuff out there!”

Ellies shoulders are heaving with angry breath, her eyes spitting furious sparks at Joel. Meanwhile at the mention of their shared past he sets his jaw and you can see him grinding his teeth, biting back whatever it was he truly wanted to say to her in favour of attempting to keep his temper under control.

“And what the fuck happened then?” he asks, his voice more dangerously low than you have ever heard it before. “You nearly got raped and murdered by some goddamn cannibal freaks.”

You can feel how wide your eyes have gone at these revelations flying back and forth between them. They have never talked in depth about anything that had occurred while they had travelled together and to hear it pour out like this all at once was dizzying.

“And I escaped and fucking murdered them first!” she hurls back in a fury. “And why the fuck do you suddenly care anyway? I tried to ask you if you were okay with it and you shut me down and told me to ask Maria. Who said yes. So I’m fucking going.”

She stalks past him without sparing another glance in his direction, grabs a quiver of arrows and stamps through the front door without another word, leaving a ringing silence between you in her wake. Your anger has dissipated in the face of hers, simply unable to stand against such fury it has been swallowed up like a beach under a tsunami.

Joel is still staring at where she stood at the back door, his own shoulders heaving with his effort to keep himself under control, fists balled at his sides.

“I’ll take care of her, Joel,” you say softly. “I promise, nothing will happen to her.”

His eyes dart to you, almost as if he had forgotten you would be here in your own house. You think you see his features soften for the briefest moment before his eyes turn to flint again.

“It better not,” is all he growls before he stamps out of your back door, leaving you feeling like you’ve just been snatched up and thrown down hard by a short lived yet incredibly vicious tornado.

The ride out isn’t exactly the pleasant day you’d hoped for, despite the fact that you do manage to achieve your objective and take down a few rabbits between you as you ride through the glorious spring landscape. Ellie is still angry and alternates between sullen silences and muttering curses that you assume are directed at Joel, but might just as well be aimed at you or the world in general. You allow her time and space to calm down, but her anger seems to draw from a never-ending well and you have no idea what to say to make it better.

Finally, she snaps.

“Okay, I’m fucking sick of this shit. What the fuck happened between you two?”

“Nothing!” comes your automatic response, and you cringe slightly at how defensive the word comes out.

“Yeah? Fuckin’ sounds like it,” she retorts, angrily.

“Really. Nothing,” you insist, your voice now flat and neutral.

“Then why are you both being so goddamn weird? You can’t be busy all day every day. I know you have some evenings free. You just choose not to come over anymore. And as for him…fuck! I’ve not seen him like this since Boston. Since…since Tess…”

She trails off, her voice soft with pain and the inkling of what she thinks is understanding and you decide that you too have had enough. If Joel wants to be moody and silent, fine. You weren’t prepared to risk your friendship with her any longer by following his lead and you decide that bluntness is best at this point, reasoning that some of the truth of the matter might begin to more quickly heal the wounds that have opened up between you.

“When Joel and I went out together,” you begin, noting the way her eyes dart warily to you, “We ended up speaking about Tess. And Jacob. Who was kind of my Tess.” Her eyes have grown wide and sad and true understanding now begins to tinge her gaze.

“I’d never told anyone about Jacob before,” you continue. “And I get the impression that Joel doesn’t speak much about Tess either. I’m sure you know yourself by now that grief does odd things to people. Makes them act in unexpected ways. It was only after we spoke about her that he began to shut me out. Whatever he’s going through, maybe it’s to do with that.”

Her face hardens as she listens. “So…you knew you two weren’t okay. That it was more than just “being busy”. Why’d you lie?”

“Because it’s his business, something he’s going through and if he needs to put some distance between us, then I respect that. I thought that if I just gave him enough time we’d get back to normal again. But it’s getting worse. And as much as you’re my friend, you’re also his daughter and I don’t want to do or say anything to interfere with that relationship. I can’t talk to you about his problems because if he wanted to talk to you about them, he would. It’s not my place to be a go between. Besides, he won’t talk to me about them anyway. Or anything right now.”

Ellie gives a disbelieving snort. “You think he’d talk to me about shit? Maybe you don’t know him. And you know I’m not his actual daughter, right?”

“I think that little display from you both in the kitchen would suggest otherwise,” you smile, and you’re relieved when she gives a slightly embarrassed smile in response.

You ride along in silence for a while until Ellie pipes up again.

“You know he likes you right?”

“Are we doing the fucking high school shit again?” you groan.

“No, I just mean…he’s happier when you’re around. And whatever’s going on with him, I think it’s worse because you two aren’t hanging out anymore.”

“I can’t make him talk to me, Ellie.”

“No. But I can.”

You shake your head. “Don’t. He’ll work it out and come around.”

“He’s the most stubborn bastard I’ve ever met!” she exclaims.

“Well, you’re not wrong there,” you sigh. “Look, if it gets too much you know you can always come to mine, right? I know you’ve got your own space, but if you want company that is less grumpy I’d love to have you over. I uh…I miss you.”

Ellie smiles softly at that despite herself, and looks down at her horses mane bobbing in front of her.

“You miss him too?”

Now it’s your turn to look away. “Yeah. I do. I don’t make many friends. It hits hard when there’s one fewer around.”

She makes a noise of irritated disgust.

“You guys are so stupid. Both of you moping around. Why don’t you just talk to him?”

“When I try to talk to him he barely speaks to me,” you reply.

“Not about stupid shit. Ask him what’s going on. Make him tell you. Just fucking…I dunno, hit him till he talks.”

“You want me to punch information out of Joel Miller?” you laugh incredulously. “What, should I tie him to a chair too?”

“Okay, maybe not that,” Ellie says, rolling her eyes. “But you gotta do something. What, are you guys just gonna live next door to each other and never talk again?”

“Depends on him I guess-“ you begin, but quickly fall silent as Ellie waves an arm and then points through the trees.

A magnificent buck is standing amongst them, perfectly placid, perfectly still, and watching you with mild disinterest. Your eyes meet Ellie’s and hers are sparkling with anticipation. The deer decides you are far enough away not to be a threat and begins to root at the earth around the trees with its nose.

“You think we can take it?” you whisper, not daring to turn your head toward Ellie in case the movement spooks it.

“Yeah,” she breathes.

“Those antlers though,” you say dubiously. “We’re going to have to get it good, else we’ll be in trouble.”

“It’ll be fine,” she reassures you. “I’ve taken bucks by myself before.”

You both move slowly and in synchronicity, taking your bows from your backs and nocking arrows to them.

“Aim for its neck,” Ellie instructs, and you follow the wisdom in her suggestion. She counts down softly from three and on the word “Go” you both let loose, your arrows speeding with sure death toward the animal. They fly true, one striking it near its shoulder, the other into its neck. You suspect Ellie’s aim was the better of the two.

The buck bellows its pain and rage and begins to run, hobbled a little by its injuries.

“Come on!” Ellie shouts, and you take off after it through the trees, following the trail of blood that it leaves behind. It was far enough away, still fast enough on its feet and the budding forest is enough of an obstacle to humans on horseback that you ride for longer than you expect. Long enough that you hear a familiar scream echo across the landscape.

Fuck. If the infected reach it first they will render it inedible. If the infected reach you first you will have far bigger problems. How many there are will determine if you run or fight. And while Ellie can take care of herself you are still responsible for her. If it comes down to it, she will need to run while you remain to fight. These thoughts blaze through your mind in seconds and you cast around, looking in the direction that you think the scream came from while also still trying to follow the blood trail. You can’t see any infected, and the sound was far enough away that you have a little time, but you’re still not happy about the pressurised situation.

“We try to outrun them,” you yell to Ellie over the sound of the horses hooves. “Get to the deer. Tie it to the horse. Get out of here. I’ll cover you if they come.”

“Okay,” she says, her face betraying the anxiety that her voice does not.

The horses crest a small hill and the buck is there at the bottom, collapsed to the ground and finally defeated. You draw up sharply beside it and jump down, working together to retrieve the arrows, heave the deer into the sled and secure it with rope. But before you can secure it to the saddle, you catch movement from between the trees. Well, you did want a moving target you think wryly as you take aim with your bow again.

“Ellie, go!” you command her. “I’ll take care of them.”

In your periphery, you see her vault gracefully into the saddle and you breathe out to steady yourself, aiming at the head of the runner as it advances. A few more figures are further behind but gaining quickly as they also sprint full pelt toward you, and you hope to whatever passes for God these days that they don’t choose to follow her.

The runner goes down before you ever loose the arrow, and you realise Ellie is still there, also with her bow and beginning to pick them off from horseback.

“Get out of here!” you cry, before your own arrow hits one in the neck, dropping it as it advances.

“There’s not that many,” she pants, letting fly again and hitting a third in the face.

“I don’t fucking care. Go!” you reiterate.

“I’m not leaving you!” she yells back.

The horses are beginning to panic at the noise and the disruption and you hope that they won’t decide to flee before you have dispatched all enemies. A fourth goes down. A fifth. And then…sudden stillness and peace except for the pounding of blood in your ears and the heavy breathing of you both. You take the opportunity to draw your gun just in case this is merely a lull rather than cessation.

“Fuck,” Ellie says shakily as she dismounts again. “Fucking assholes.”

You’re inclined to agree, but you don’t intend to let her know.

“When I say you go, you go,” you frown.

“I helped!”

“You did, but I could have coped. What the fuck would happen if you got hurt out here?! Apart from anything, Joel would never let me see you again. That’s if I didn’t have to put you down because you got infected, of course.”

“Not gonna happen,” she says sullenly, her face set in a mask of defiant anger. Her resistance to believing that she could get seriously hurt out here sparks your anger, and you begin to question whether Joel was right about letting her out of Jackson. Perhaps she really wasn’t ready for the responsibilities it entailed.

“Of course, because no one ever gets bit out in the world,” you snarl, your fear for her honing your anger even sharper. “This whole time it was all just some collective delusion-“

Your sarcastic tirade is interrupted by another flash of movement behind her and you shove Ellie sideways forcefully. The infected still has your arrow lodged in its neck as it reaches for you, hungrily seeking to make more of itself. You punch it hard in the jaw and it rocks backward, but remains on its feet. As you raise your pistol it sways back toward you, lunging with arms outstretched. You step backward and stumble, and when you fall it feels like the world moves in slow motion. The disgusting, bloody, fungus infested face of the ex-person above you, the landscape moving until you could see too few trees and too much sky. And then pain. A sharp, biting, insistent pain in your shoulder that spreads a numbness across your back and arm. Your vision grows super sharp for just a moment, painfully so, the sun above making the blue of the sky and the fluffy white of the clouds stand stark against one another before blackness crowds the edge of your vision.

The nightmare face above you. A scream of fearful rage. A muffled bang. The sharp copper tang of blood. Cool patters across your face and a spreading warmth below you. And then…darkness.

Taglist - @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities @deadhumourist @pedrostories @abbyhaslongshorts @celebrtyskinz @majahu @sanscas @myloveistoolittle @ohthemisssery @harperdoodle

Next chapter

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou x reader #joel tlou x you #joel tlou x f!reader #joel tlou x female reader #joel tlou fanfic #joel tlou fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst

118 notes · View notes

aldryrththerainbowheart · 1 year

Text

[XXI - The World] ; Where do they want to go for a honeymoon?

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Characters: Dante, Vergil, Nero

Relationships: character x reader

Note: Gaaahhhh, it's over, done. The whole dmc arcana event is over. Tumblr let me know yesterday that it's my blogs birthday, so I think nice way to celebrate it with the event it all started with. While we're done with major arcana, I'm not done with dmc. As a matter of fact, now that this is complete, I can finally give my attention to the ideas that was left in wips. Stay tuned.

Love, always

Aldryrth

Nero would go for a traditional honeymoon. A romantic getaway on the beach somewhere is just the thing. The location of the beach does not matter to him, as long as it’ll be calm and not crowded with tourists there. He doesn’t mind paying extra to book a private beach for this occasion. The boy’s a romantic, so be prepared for cheesy, almost rom-com type of quality time. Walks on the seashore during sunset, candlelit dinners on the terrace of your hotel, those heated moments spent on the rose petal covered sheets… Since there’ll be no one from the shop to tease him, Nero allows himself to be much softer and vulnerable with you. One night you caught him talking to you when he thought you were sleeping. He kept running his fingers over your arm and whispering how happy he is to have you and how he’d love to have a family with you. You never told him you’ve been awake the whole time, rather tucking this lovely memory into your heart.

He leaves planning to you but has one condition. No tropics. Vergil can’t stand hot climates and would rather take you to places with colder weather and interesting sights. London at the beginning of autumn for example is a perfect choice. You two are quite a sight, strolling hand in hand through cobbled streets and wild gardens like lovesick pups. Of course, you’ll visit the grave and home of William Blake, how could you not? This is probably the giddiest you’ve ever seen the son of Sparda. With wonder in his eyes not different from a child, he walks around the museum reading all the plaques regarding his work. You bought two posters with Blake’s illustrations that hang on the wall in your living room to this day. Quite a nice memento of your honeymoon.

You’ll sooner catch Dante dead than him admitting this, but he fantasized about these things before, even though he hasn’t had a particular person in mind. He would love to take you on a road trip. Just pick a country and travel through that place with no particular destination in mind. If he can rent that old surfer Volkswagen van, all the better. You go to the US since it has one of the best road networks plus all the various places you can visit there. Honestly, you spent much less on the wedding itself than on your trip, which lasted for almost a year. If it weren’t for you Dante would spend the rest of his days traversing the roads like an old hippie. You took photos regularly so when you came back you had a beautiful scrapbook/photo album to reminisce about the precious time spent together.

#dante imagine #dante x reader #devil may cry dante #dante devil may cry #dmc dante #dante x you #dante sparda #vergil imagine #vergil x reader #dmc vergil #devil may cry vergil #vergil x you #nero imagine #devil may cry nero #nero dmc #nero

116 notes · View notes

ohmytomorrowisthursday · 1 year

Text

AOT characters taking you on a date pt. 1

Hiiii! Please enjoy this lil post. A bit spicy but I kept it pretty tame lol.

Part 2 is here

Mikasa: She would want to go somewhere that you like. She would either ask your friends or creep your social media to see if you have a favourite restaurant. Would pick somewhere chill where you don’t need to dress up. I think she would enjoy going for a walk with you after dinner, somewhere by the beach to watch the sunset. She’d pack a blanket so the two of you can sit there and enjoy the moment. I feel like she’d enjoy getting dessert at one of those 50’s diners where you can split a sundae. She wouldn’t initiate any kisses but I think she’d hold your hand while trying not to blush. A wholesome and chill night out.

Eren: Loves spicy food and takes you to a Mexican restaurant. Loves the music and the food. When you date Eren; you’re his. I feel like he’d want to sit on the same side of the booth as you or at the bar so that you guys are side by side. Likes holding your waist and can’t take his eyes off of you. Drives the two of you somewhere out of the city with a view and has curated the perfect playlist for the drive. Parks the car and wants to hold you and have deep long chats for hours. Wants to know everything about you and share everything about himself too. He loves to kiss your neck and watch your chest go up and down with the excitement of his touch. Lets you wear his hoodie and doesn’t want to stop holding you. One hand on the wheel and one hand on your thigh.

Connie: He’d want to take you somewhere that the two of you could have a lot of fun at. An arcade bar where you could get burgers and fries and some fun cocktails. He would want to play all of the games with you and would always let you win. Collecting tickets to win you a stuffed animal. Is a little shy about affection so bonding over teamwork and games would be a good way to hang out and get closer. I feel like he would sneak in some touching, like nudging you or giving you a tight hug when you win games. A playful kind of love. Would ask you for a kiss at the end of the night and go sooooo pink in the cheeks.

Hange: Y’all are going for South Asian food; they loveeee curry. Somewhere on the higher end too. Wants to share everything and try everything on the menu. Hange loves to share their ideas and I feel like if you’re on a date with them they would feel so comfortable to talk to you and share everything; you make them feel safe. After dinner they would want to do something fun like a themed cocktail night at a funky bar. Wants to go dancing with you and get moving. Silly and sweet but they’d definitely know when to turn on the charm; grinding you, kissing you and getting you so turned on. They’re a coy lover and would love making you blush. Making out on a dance floor, and kissing you until you’re love drunk. They’d walk you home late at night in the cool quiet evening, laughing about your adventures from the night.

Armin: Armin would rather do a day date instead of one at night. I feel like he’d love brunch and indulging in foods like chicken and waffles, eggs benny and all of the delicious brunch goodness. Armin isn’t shy to voice his feelings and so I feel like he’d rather just see you in the sunlight; glowing without the veil of evening to cover you up. Would want to ask you all about work, how your friends are and just get into the nitty gritty of the week. Wants to go to a museum and look at all of the art and history, the two of you picking out your favourite paintings and walking arm in arm. He’d want to understand why you like things to understand your psyche better. Soft kisses on your cheeks throughout the date. Would compliment you so many times on you beautiful you look.

47 notes · View notes

revnah1406 · 1 year

Text

Special Valentine’s day! Sparrow x Soap

Hey!! I know I'm a little late, I wanted to draw something special for Valentine's Day, but I didn't have time. I still managed to draw something!

I don't usually talk much about the romantic field of Sparrow. But initially Sparrow is the partner of Soap (2009). And I wanted to draw this cute couple!!

I'll leave a few headcanons of Sparrow and his relationship with Soap here (maybe there are too many, I'm so sorry):

Originally Sparrow is a lieutenant (Call of duty MW2 2013) although in the reboot I changed it to sergeant.

Soap and Sparrow passed the selection at the same time as the team's NFGs (2009).

Being the new ones in the team, they used to compete in a certain way between the two of them, even arguing over who was the best. Until one day in a heated discussion they ended up confessing by accident.

Both sergeants kept the relationship a secret for quite some time, although Captain Price soon realized it, even knowing the risks that a romantic relationship between Taskforce personnel could entail, he didn’t say anything.

The two rose through the ranks together, until the day Soap was promoted to captain and leader of Taskforce 141 when Price was believed to be dead.

Both are the best climbers in the entire Taskforce. Though Soap doesn't like to admit it, it was Sparrow who taught him to climb so well. Still, Soap is the one who actually taught Sparrow how to fire the vast majority of weapons.

When they aren’t on duty for long periods of time, instead of staying home and resting, John and Hannah go on a trip to climb the great mountains of the world or simply to see new places.

In their shared apartment in Glasgow, they have a lot of souvenirs from the places they visit, small sculptures, paintings, Tibetan prayer flags... Their home is like a small world museum.

Soap didn't have a very close relationship with his parents, he didn't even have siblings. So it took a while for him to get used to Sparrow's large family. Sparrow has three siblings (2 brothers and 1 sister) all of whom have children. And Sparrow's relationship with her parents is very warm and close. Everyone welcomed John with open arms, which was a bit overwhelming for him at first but he ended up feeling like family in no time.

The first time Hannah brought John to a dinner with all her family. She had to scold her aunts and grandmothers for gossiping about John and giggling like lovesick teenagers. John didn't notice anything because the women spoke in German or Italian but poor Hannah had to make an effort not to blush at the comments from her relatives.

"You've found yourself a good man, Hannah" "He'll give you good children that's for sure" "Save a piece of that man for ourselves, my dear!"

John usually calls her "Han" because it sounds similar to "hen", he can get upset if someone other than him or her family calls her that.

In my universe, Sparrow saves Soap from dying (sorry, I can't get over his death)

After killing Makarov, Sparrow decides to retire from the Taskforce and the military. She dedicated herself to opening her own car workshop and working as a mechanic in the neighborhood, fixing the neighbors' cars.

Shortly after Hannah became a civilian, John was finally able to propose to her and they were married in front of the most beautiful landscape in all of Scotland.

(I'm thinking of doing more content about this cute couple! Should I? My mind is open for ideas!!)

For more content! -> Masterlist:

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty oc #Hannah Sparrow Clayton #john soap mactavish #John Soap MacTavish 2009 #captain mactavish #captain john mactavish #John soap McTavish x Oc

55 notes · View notes

guess-my-next-obsession · 2 years

Text

‘Tis The Damn Season: Chapter One

pairing: marcus pike x f!ofc (nathalie moss)

chapter rating: M (this contains no explicit content yet, but this series will be full of smut so 18+ ONLY, feelings of insecurity, sadness, broken engagements, alcohol consumption [drink responsibly pls], mentions of arousal, and lots and lots of yearning)

word count: 4k

series masterlist | series playlist

It had been a long, hard year for Nathalie Moss. In January, she was engaged to her college sweetheart, living in Chicago, and working her dream job as the Field Museum’s junior art history coordinator. In June, her world crumbled when she discovered her fiancé in bed with another woman—the museum’s senior art history coordinator, to be exact. In July, she moved back home on a panicked whim, her nurturing and only sometimes overbearing parents elated to have their child home ten years after she’d left for college.

Since the summer, Nathalie kept busy working days in her mother’s craft store and nights at her father’s bar—her hometown’s only true pub. She worked and worked until she had no time left in the day to dwell on her circumstance, knowing that if she got stuck on it for too long, she’d turn into some pitiful recluse that the town whispered about when she wasn’t around and pitied when she was.

The holidays had been harder than she anticipated, all of her old high school friends (and enemies) rolling back into town to show off their success in both love and life. She’d already been invited to three weddings next summer, met at least six newborns, and was forced into scrolling through countless pictures of first homes and new cars. Every picture and every story reminded her that just last year she was like all of them—happy about starting her own life, and certainly not caring whether or not anyone else wanted to hear about it.

Nathalie made it a point to not turn too bitter, always offering congratulations and a smile whenever it was asked of her, but to say that she was truly happy for them would be a lie. It was hard to be happy for other people when she wasn’t even happy with her own lot.

Tonight she had been wearing her fake smile a bit too long, her neighbor’s—the Cho family—annual holiday party forced her to socialize and mingle far longer than she was used to. Sensing her mask shattering under the weight of societal pressure to be a ball of holiday glee, Nathalie made her way over to the kitchen and stood at the island, picking away at the spread of appetizers.

“Hey, do you remember Marcus Pike? My brother’s friend from high school?” Angela, Nathalie’s only true friend in town walked in with her two-year old on her hip. Nathalie turned pink in the cheeks at the sound of his name, having spent so many years drawing hearts around it in all of her journals.

“Yeah, I think so,” she responded casually as she bit into a carrot.

“Guess he’s coming back home for the holidays. Everybody’s out there talking about it.” Nathalie hummed in acknowledgment, hiding her inner giddiness at the idea of running into him again after so many years.

Last she heard he was using his love and knowledge of art with the government, though his parents kept pretty mum about the specifics of his job.

She knew he hadn’t been back home for the last three Christmases, his parents that lived across the street from her house having gone off to wherever he was instead of the other way around. She quickly assumed that he could only be coming home for one reason—to show off a new engagement or perhaps even a child, either way, he was off limits.

“Did everybody talk about me like this when I came back home?” She asked, switching subjects to keep her girlish fantasies from getting too delusional.

“Yeah,” Angela responded straight, earning a chuckle from her friend. “There’s not much else to talk about besides everyone who’s gone off and made something of themselves. It’s like when a celebrity visits their hometown after finding fame. We all just get to watch and gossip.”

“Well, not me.” Nathalie sassed as she popped a grape into her mouth, her mother walking in with none other than Marcus’s mom, Mrs. Pike.

“Hey, girls,” Mrs. Moss greeted her daughter and Angela with a tipsy smile, a 1st Place badge pinned to her homemade ugly Christmas sweater. “Having fun?”

“Yeah, mom.” Nathalie groaned as her mother walked over and hugged her into her side, kissing her temple. “God, you smell like the bar.”

“Yeah, well you smell like a party pooper,” she countered.

“Do one of you girls have a phone charger I could borrow? My phone died and Marcus is supposed to be calling me when he gets into town.” Mrs. Pike asked in her soft, whispery voice. Nathalie squirmed out of her mother’s embrace to walk over to her purse sitting on the counter, tugging out her charger.

“Here you go, Mrs. P.” The older woman gave Nathalie a thankful smile, placing her hand over her heart.

“Thank you, dear. You’re always so considerate. Wish my Marcus would find a girl like you to settle down with instead of these cruel women he’s been going after.” The 50-something year old was clearly a bit tipsy, her sober self rarely ever indulging in gossip, let alone about her own family. “He went and got engaged on a whim, but thankfully that’s all over with now. Poor boy, got his heart absolutely shattered by it all.”

“Now who does that remind me of?” Angela teased from across the room as she fixed her toddler a plate of food. Nathalie gave her a narrowed glare, mockingly laughing along with her. “Just saying.”

“That’s right!” Mrs. Pike turned to you enthusiastically. “Maybe the two of you could get some coffee and talk about it!”

“I’m not sure recounting the stories of our failed engagements would make for very good conversation,” Nathalie chuckled awkwardly, reaching for the nearest item of food to busy her mouth and hands with.

“Right, right.” She nodded, her eyes flickering to Nathalie’s mother’s. “But…”

“But maybe it would be nice to make a friend that sort of knows what you’re going through,” her mother persisted, earning a groan from her daughter. “Not like you have anything else to do.”

“If I see Marcus, I’ll say hi. If I don’t, I don’t.”

“Well, you won’t have to look very far to find me.” His voice shot through Nathalie like a bullet, her mind instantly flipping back to when she was fifteen and in love with the twenty-year old across the street who had no idea she existed.

When she turned around to greet him, she felt her knees physically grow weak at the sight of him fully grown, a beard now covering his previously clean shaven jaw. He was wearing a black leather jacket, a navy blue cable knit sweater, and a pair of khaki chinos, his broad shoulders making him look like a wall of coziness and warmth as he stood in front of her, smiling down at her like he had no idea it made her sick with yearning.

“Nat, it’s nice seeing you after so long.” She stared at him with wide eyes and parted lips, a pink blush on her tan skin. She half-expected him to not recognize her or remember her name, after all, it had been at least three years since she’d last bumped into him and even that was only in passing.

“Marcus,” she responded abruptly, holding her hand out for him to shake in a moment of flustered panic. Marcus chuckled as he looked down at her hand, sliding his own into it and giving it a shake. She tried not to think too hard about how warm and soft it was, or how it was big enough to wrap around her entire hand with ease.

“Marcus, honey, we need to make our rounds with you. Everyone is so excited that you’re home again.” Mrs. Pike walked over and stole her son’s attention, but Nathalie didn’t fail to notice the way Marcus’ eyes lingered on her as he was pulled out of the room.

“Did you see the way he looked at you?” Nathalie’s mother teased, squeezing her daughter’s shoulders.

“Mom, relax. He was just saying hi.”

“No,” Angela interjected with a wag of her finger, gesturing between Nathalie and the spot that Marcus was just standing at. “That was chemistry.”

“That was a greeting.” Nathalie countered, her heart secretly pounding in her chest as her hand still tingled from his touch. “You guys are ridiculous. I’m going home.”

“You want us to have Marcus walk you back? Make sure you get there safe?” Her mother called out teasingly as Nathalie grabbed her coat and purse and headed towards the back door.

“I’m good, thanks!” Nathalie couldn’t help but laugh at their lack of subtlety as she walked through the now snowy grass connecting the Cho’s lawn to her own.

“Psst!” Nathalie jumped at the sound of a whisper, her father sitting on their front porch in his rocking chair, sipping on a tea.

“Jesus, dad. Trying to give me a heart attack at twenty-eight.”

“As opposed to forty? This is the youngest you’re ever gonna get, kid.” She chuckled at his teasing, walking across the dark lawn and up the front steps to join him. She sat down in her mother’s matching rocking chair beside his, accepting the blanket he had draped over his lap when he offered it to her. “Shouldn’t you be enjoying the party?”

“Shouldn’t you? Mom’s tipsy.”

“Ah, leave her alone. This is the only night a year that woman lets loose. She works so hard all year, god knows she deserves it.” Nathalie smiled, her parent’s relationship setting an almost unachievable standard. “Hey, I heard the Pike boy is back.”

“God, you’re not going to tease me for my old crush on him too, are you?” She groaned, slumping back into the chair.

“No, I was just gonna make fun of his new beard.”

“I like his new beard.” The mere memory of his face brought a smile to hers, his effect on her more powerful than she’d ever openly admit.

“Alright, now I’m gonna make fun of you for your crush.” Nathalie let out a rumble of chuckles followed by a sigh, shaking her head at her father as she stood up.

“Well, that’s my cue to go to bed.” She gave him a pat on the shoulder before dropping the blanket back in his lap. The near-sixty year old stood up with his daughter, following her as she moved to head inside. “You’re not gonna wait up for mom?”

“I’ll wait up for her in our bedroom where it’s nice and warm…and there are pillows…and my TV…and a lock on the door in case she comes home and tries to get frisky.”

“Oh, dear god, I’m begging you to stop.” Nathalie gagged, covering her mouth as her body physically reacted to the thought of her parents having an active sex life at their age.

“How do you think you were born?” He asked as he walked into the kitchen to put his cup of tea in the sink.

“I just figured it was a one-time thing!” She called back with a smile, her fuzzy-sock-covered feet padding up the staircase.

When Nathalie got to her room, she let out a soft sigh, rolling her neck as she walked over to her window nook and looked out at the party next door, Marcus standing outside talking with one of her old classmates from high school, Emily, a very pretty blonde who somehow remained single all these years. The sight of them laughing and exchanging phone numbers was enough to make her feel sick so she closed her curtains and wished him a goodnight from afar.

At least one of them was moving on.

Nathalie was still awake at 1 a.m., a bowl of popcorn in her lap as she laid in bed rewatching Atonement just for the library scene. She had a mud mask on and was wearing her coziest—and most worn in—sleeping clothes, a 3XL shirt from her alma mater that had small tears and stains all over it from years of good use and a pair of Family Guy pajama pants she stole from her ex-fiancé.

Hearing a knock at the front door, she paused her movie, brows furrowing as she waited for her father to wake up and handle it but his snores continued without interruption. With a pained sigh, she tossed her blankets back and carried her bowl of popcorn with her downstairs to the front door.

On her tiptoes, Nathalie peeked through the peephole in the door to check out who was on the other side, panicking when she saw her drunken mother accompanied by none other than Marcus Pike. With no time to fix her appearance, she willed herself to not care about the fact that she was in tattered PJ’s and a mud mask, her breath no doubt smelling like a vat of butter from the popcorn she’d been pecking at. Opening the door, she was greeted with a grateful exhale from Marcus and a drunken cheer from her mother.

“Nattie! Look what chivalrous hunk offered to walk me home!” She hugged Marcus into her side and he looked to you with pleading eyes, a chuckle escaping your lips at the sight.

“Mom, there’s another chivalrous hunk snoring and waiting for you upstairs.” Nathalie guided her inside and watched as she jogged up to her bedroom without injuring herself, muttering something about needing to leave a sock on her door tonight. “Ew, god. Sorry about that, Marcus. And sorry about her. And also the fact that I look like this right now.”

“I kinda like it,” he smiled down at her as she finally willed her eyes to meet his. “Your fiancé is a lucky guy to get to come home to you like this all the time.”

His tone was light, preventing her from reading too far into the compliment, especially when it was paired with the mention of her ex.

“We, uh, we actually split up this summer. So…I guess my natural beauty didn’t do it for him after all,” she joked, Marcus looking offended for a moment before settling on a look of concern.

“I’m so sorry, I hadn’t heard. You two were always so happy whenever I ran into you.” His voice was tender but still light, giving her the space to either make a joke of things or pour her heart out to him—either way, he wanted to hear more from her.

“Yeah, we were. But then someone else came along and made him happier.” She shrugged, her lips pursed into a flat line. “I, uh, I heard you’re in the same boat.”

“Oh…yeah,” he chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his neck. “I think that was just me trying to settle down too fast. Not true love or anything like that. But…the, uh, the hurt is definitely…there.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” She gave him an empathetic curl of her lips, the two locking eyes long enough for a fire to start to burn in her belly, her eyes darting away once she began to burn too hot for him. “Anyways, I should get back upstairs. Got a hot date with James McAvoy and Kiera Knightley.”

“Atonement?” He asked with enthusiasm, his eyes brightening.

Nathalie chuckled and shook her head in disbelief. Was he fucking for real?

“Yeah,” she smiled widely at him, his eyes flickering to her lips. “I’d invite you to join me but I think I’d need to ask my parents first.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want your mom to think poorly of me after the night we’ve shared together.” Nathalie laughed at that, feeling for the first time in a very long time like she didn’t need to pretend to be enjoying conversation. No, quite the opposite—she didn’t want it to ever end. “I’ll let you get back to your movie, Nat. It was really nice catching up with you.”

“I’ll see you around, Marcus,” she gave him a soft smile. Marcus chuckled and nodded as he turned to leave her porch, stopping to say one last thing with the most pretty smile she’d ever witnessed in her life. He was the kind of handsome that made even the smartest of women fuzzy in the head—the most dangerous kind of man, she reckoned.

“I really hope so.”

And with that, Nathalie shut the door and pressed her back to it, taking slow and careful breaths as she tried to cool off her arousal and mounting crush. It was silly to get swept away by love like this again, this soon after having seen first hand that it was all a charade anyways.

“He’s so clearly into you, honey.” Nathalie jumped at the sound of her mother calling out from the top of the staircase, apparently having witnessed everything.

“Jesus,” she shook her head, trying hard not to buy into her mother’s encouragement. “Go to bed.”

“You’re not my mom.”

“Clever.”

The next night, Nathalie stood behind the bar at her father’s pub with her coworker, MJ, a woman in her late fifties with lots of experience dealing with drunk and rowdy patrons. Her hair was raven black except for at the roots, her natural grey peeking out giving her age away. She always wore a thick layer of makeup, dark eyeliner smudged around her doe shaped eyes and dark red lipstick that complimented her milk chocolate skin. Nathalie looked up to MJ as a cool aunt of sorts, the woman having never settled down or had any children and yet never seemed to be lacking in fulfillment.

“Did I tell you about my newest painting I just sold?” She asked as both women dried off some newly washed cups with dish towels, the bar full of people but all their drinks and orders were caught up on.

“No! Oh my god, MJ! Look at you go!” She congratulated with a genuine smile. “Tell me about it.”

“It was just an abstract piece I was messing around with, but this guy saw it earlier today at the farmers market…oh, what was his name?”

“Marcus!” Nathalie gasped at the sight of her crush walking into the bar—the crush she couldn’t squash no matter how hard she tried to will it to disappear.

“Oh, yeah! That’s him. You know him?” MJ asked, turning to Nathalie.

“Yeah, we’re…neighbors.” She responded in a more muted tone, having caught a glimpse of her old classmate, Emily, walking in with him, the two looking like they’d just come from a nice dinner date. “Hey, uh, I gotta go use the restroom.”

“That’s alright, I can handle it up here for a little.” MJ nodded, not failing to notice how pale Nathalie had gotten in the last minute.

Running into the back, she was met with the line cook, a man old enough to be her father but who insisted on flirting with her at every given opportunity, and her father who was sat in his office going over the books for this month. She passed both of them without giving them a second glance, her ears ringing and cheeks burning.

How was it possible that one human’s presence could send someone into such a panic that it felt as though she was dying? Her stomach flipped and turned sour, her heartbeat accelerated to the point of concern, her ears drowned out all sound while her eyes blurred her surroundings, though that might have just been the tears forming in her waterline.

Closing herself in the bathroom, she sunk to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. She was used to these king of panic attacks by now, though they’d become less frequent now that her relationship had ended. All she needed was time alone to breathe, to remind herself that Marcus wasn’t cheating on her—he was single and so was she. It didn’t matter that she’d adored him since they met as kids. It didn’t matter that he was being so charming and flirty with her last night. He wasn’t her boyfriend and had every right in the world to date other people.

But why on earth did it hurt this bad to see him actually doing it?

One minute turned to ten, and soon the line cook was knocking on the door to the restroom. Nathalie washed her hands and splashed her face with the ice cold water, hoping that it would be enough to force her into reality. Opening the door, the older cook gave her a quirked eyebrow, looking at her as though she was some sort of creature rather than the beauty he usually deemed her as.

“Sorry,” she mumbled as she walked past him, unsure of whether or not she was apologizing about occupying the bathroom for so long or for her swollen-eyed appearance.

Walking back into the front, Nathalie’s eyes scanned the room for Marcus and Emily, finding them sitting together at the bar, giggling and sharing a bowl of peanuts while they sipped their beers.

What a cool girl.

“Ugh,” she groaned out loud for her mind’s unspoken bullying, knowing that just because Emily was with Marcus didn’t mean that she was some sort of enemy or competition, nor was she deserving of Nathalie’s jealous insults.

“You’re back!” MJ greeted, waving Nathalie closer to where Marcus sat. “My friend Marcus here was asking about you.”

“Great,” she whispered underneath her breath as she hesitantly approached the couple. Her eyes met Emily’s first, the blue-green irises stunning and far more visually striking than Nathalie’s plain brown ones. Next came Marcus’, his brown eyes warm enough to melt her and deep enough to drown her. That was a death she’d gladly die. Putting on a brave face and the fakest smile, hardly even wide enough to bring those smile lines her ex always used to tease her about to her face. “Marcus, Emily. How are you guys doing tonight?”

“Doing amazing,” Emily responded in a sickeningly sweet voice. Nathalie had forgotten how bubbly she was.

“I’m alright,” Marcus added, his joy a bit more subdued than his date’s. “I, uh, forgot your dad owned this place. And then MJ mentioned you were working here and I had to see it for myself.”

“Yep,” Nathalie nodded, her lips in a flattened smile as she tucked her hands into the back pocket of her jeans. “Days at the craft store and nights here at the bar.”

“I thought you went on to work at some big museum in Chicago?” Emily asked, pulling Nathalie’s eyes away from Marcus.

“I did.” She spoke matter-of-factory. “And now I’m here.”

“Oh,” the blonde nodded, finally gathering that it was a sore subject.

“Yeah.” Nathalie turned her eyes back to Marcus. “I, uh, I heard you bought MJ’s latest masterpiece.”

“Oh, yeah! It was stunning, I had to.” He chuckled and gave MJ a smile. “I’m serious about commissioning you for another, MJ. I’ll give you my number before I go so that we can talk details.”

Seems like everyone got offered his phone number except for Nathalie.

“My god,” the old woman beamed, placing her hand over her heart. “That would be amazing.”

“You, too.” Marcus turned his focus back to Nathalie, his half-smile reaching one of his eyes. “In case you need me to babysit your mom again.”

Nathalie hesitated, noticing the way Emily looked down at her drink with a solemn expression. She knew that if she was the one on a date with Marcus fucking Pike and he was going around offering his number up to another woman her age, not half bad in the looks department, she wouldn’t feel great, so…

“I think that was a one off, but I appreciate the gesture, Marcus.” She could see his face fall in disappointment, his smile fading into a look of resignation. “Anyways, it was nice seeing you both. I gotta go get those guys some refills before I lose my tip.”

Marcus’ eyes didn’t follow where Nathalie was pointing to, a group of regulars practically whistling for her attention. Instead, he turned away completely, focusing on his date again. Nathalie accepted the blow of his cold shoulder as she left the group to walk to the other end of the bar counter to do her job.

After all, it was probably for the best.

She wasn’t a mathematician but it was easily guessed that two failed engagements wouldn’t add up to one successful, new romance. Marcus was better off with bubbly, no baggage Emily, and Nathalie was better off alone.

Or at least that’s what she’d tell herself tonight when sleep struggled to come to her.

general taglist: @joelmillerscoffee @ajeff855 @wildemaven @axshadows @sherala007 @browneyes-issac @tooflef @mariasabana @tae27 @kimm4710 @stxrrylunatic @sara-alonso @paulalikestuff @jbh-castaway @oceandolores @mandomover @chxpsi @auberosier @mashomasho @vanemando15 @wickedmunson @marvel-sw-lover @jediknight122 @harriedandharassed @star-wars-fan-2005 @alwaysdjarin @jalobro @trickstersp8 @mccn-bcys @manuymesut @trinkets01 @tanzthompson @jlmaddinson @hopeamarsu @fanofverymanythings @lovesbiggerthanpride @pinkything @fireproofmarta @littlenosoul @tryonmyworld @berriesarepunk @laureliciousdefinition @camishadjarin @rav3n-pascal22 @fishingforpike @rocketrhap3000 @amneris21 @lexloon @alwayslurkinginthebackground @myrealmofchaos (please let me know if you’d like to be removed/added to my general taglist!)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike angst #marcus pike smut #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike #tis the damn season

147 notes · View notes