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scuderiahoney · 4 months

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Blackbird

Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a bartender at a mountain lodge. When Danny shows up, you’re determined to keep your distance. It doesn’t really go to plan.

a/n: definitely inspired by this moodboard I made for the lovely @shootingstar-scuderia for my 1k celebration!

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: alcohol, mild sexual content

People come and go at the lodge, but they don’t stay for long. That is, except for you and your coworkers. They’re the only consistent people in your life. The customers, the guests- they pass through like ships in the night. They tell their stories, share their adventures, and then move on. It’s half the fun, really.

You should’ve known he’d be different from the very start. Most of them come in, sit down at the bar, and are eager to tell you all about themselves. They want to impress you, want to prove that they’re the biggest adventurer in the whole place. And sure, the road to the lodge is rough and steep and half the time it’s washed out. But most of them arrive in vehicles driven by guides, and they tote their expensive luggage through the lobby, decked out in brand new hiking gear bought special for this trip. When he shows up at the bar, he’s in a threadbare t-shirt, a pair of loose shorts, and a worn down pair of hiking boots.

He’s flanked by friends, ones who have genuine smiles on their faces and are dressed much the same. He seems to be the ringleader. The first thing you really notice about him are the tattoos scattered up and down his arms. He rests his elbows on the bar, looks utterly at home there. You wander down to take their order.

“I’ll have whatever beer you’d recommend,” he says, Australian accent shining through.

You get a lot of people with accents in the bar. They come from all over. You’re not surprised at the accent, though you might’ve guessed he was American from looking at him. You nod and pour him a glass of your current favorite before taking his friend’s orders and doing the same. He takes a sip and sends you a wide grin, one that seems genuine. People smile at you a lot, trying to get a discount on their drinks or look good in front of their friends or sometimes, more than that. But this just seems… real. Like he always smiles that brightly.

“That’s good,” he says, nodding eagerly. “A woman after my own tastes.”

You laugh and nod. “You’ve got good taste, then.”

He preens over that, runs his hand through his hair. Then he sticks the other one out to you, over the bar. “I’m Danny.”

You shake his hand, the way you do each time someone introduces themself to you. You try and commit his name to memory, because he’ll likely be back a few times before he leaves the lodge and they always tip better if you remember their names. He repeats your name back to you, like it’s not written plain as day in your nametag, like he actually cares.

He tilts his head towards you. “So. How’d you end up here?” He asks.

You raise a brow at him. “Normally I’m the one asking that question.”

He laughs. He folds his hands on each other and rests his chin on them.

“Exactly. You must hear about a billion of the same stories, rich people on their vacations, roughing it in the woods,” he laments. “So come on. What’s your story?”

You’re not sure why you tell him. Looking back, in the interest of self preservation, you probably should’ve lied. But at this angle, he’s staring up at you through thick, dark eyelashes. He has the prettiest smile you’ve seen in months, maybe years, maybe ever. So you look down the bar, make sure nobody’s waiting on you. Danny and his friends are early, so you don’t have much to worry about.

You shrug. “Graduated high school. Decided college wasn’t for me.” You pick up a rag, rub at a spot on the bar just to look busy, just to avoid looking right into his eyes. “I’ve been on the move ever since. I landed here about a year ago- cheap room and board, good tips, and,” you jerk your thumb towards the large picture windows looking out over the valley and mountains. “The view’s not so bad.”

Danny laughs at that, and his gaze flickers to the windows. The sun is just barely beginning to set. Soon the tourists will pour into the bar and restaurant, hungry and thirsty from their days full of adventures. But right now it’s quiet. The calm before the storm.

“Nice,” he says. “Bet you’ve got a lot of cool stories.”

You shrug, though you smile a bit at the thought. “Yeah. Hasn’t been a bad life, you know?”

He nods. Someone sits down at the bar, and you head down to take their order. Soon enough, you’re too busy to stop and chat with Danny, having to limit it to quick drink requests and offhanded remarks. You swear you feel his eyes on your the whole night. He closes out the tab a little before 9:00, pays for everyone and leaves a big tip. For a second, you remember that he’s probably just some big wig exec from some tech company, cosplaying as an outdoorsy man for the weekend. And that’s fine, you’ll support it as long as he’s nice to you.

He tosses a grin over his shoulder as he leaves, and sends a little wave your way. You swear he winks. And really, it was that moment that you should’ve known that Danny was going to be a problem for you.

…..

The employee cabins are in a secluded spot on the property, but you prefer to have your morning coffee on the back porch of the main lodge. It’s got the best view, the coffee is free, and at this hour, there’s nobody else up. Nobody, that is, except the man from the bar the night before. Danny, you remember. Huh. Usually it takes longer for the name to stick.

You watch over the edge of your book as he comes jogging up the path. He’s shirtless, skin glistening with sweat. It’s early morning, the sun barely poking up over the horizon, and it’s not that warm yet. Either he’s been working hard or he’s out of shape. From the glimpse you catch, you decide he’s definitely not out of shape. You force your eyes back to the book as he makes his way towards you. You won’t be caught staring at the shirtless guest. That would be a bad idea.

Said shirtless guest walks right up to you, though, and sticks his finger into the spine of the book, tugging it downward. You quirk a brow and look up at him. The audacity to interrupt your reading- you’re not sure how to even react. Your face betrays you as a smile crosses your lips.

“Good book?” He asks, nudging the cover.

You shrug. “It’s okay. I’ve read almost everything good in the library here.”

Danny wrinkles his nose. “You said you didn’t like… you know. Academic stuff.”

“I said college wasn’t for me,” you clarify. “I like reading.”

He nods in understanding, that signature smile on his lips. “So what’s this one about?”

You blink up at him. “Dragons.”

“Sounds fun.” He looks to your cup of coffee, sitting on the table in front of you. “S’the coffee any good?”

You nod. He takes a couple steps towards the building. “Can I sit with you? None of my friends are up yet.”

“Well it is 6am, and you’re on vacation. Can’t say I blame them.” You say, dancing around the question.

It’s not that you don’t want to talk to him. In fact, you have a strong urge to lean close and learn everything about this man. But he’s a guest and you’re an employee. They encourage you to be friendly with the guests- it helps them feel at home, your manager says- but not too friendly. Besides, Danny will be gone in a few days, and he’ll forget all about you the week after. It’s how it goes.

But he turns and raises his brows at you, and you sigh and nod. “Yeah, you can join me. But I want to read, so…”

“I’ll be so quiet,” Danny promises.

He scurries off to get coffee. You let out a long breath and pick the book back up. You’re definitely going to regret this decision. Danny doesn’t seem like the quiet type.

In his defense, he manages to stay quiet for about ten minutes. He sits down in one of the chairs next to yours, leaning back and sipping his coffee. From the angle, you can peek up over the edge of your book and sneak glances at him. He has his eyes closed, or at least close to it. He’s still shirtless, though you can see the t-shirt he must’ve been wearing hanging from the waistband of his shorts. You’re not looking at him, really- just trying to tell if he’s looking at you.

Then he starts to fidget. First he crosses his legs, then uncrosses them. He stretches his arms above his head, fingertips spread wide. Then he slouches in his chair and lets out a heavy sigh. You meet his eyes over the top of your book.

He raises his eyebrows. “What are you doing up so early, anyways?”

You should be irritated. This is your quiet morning- he’s interrupting your personal time. You come out here to drink coffee and read and listen to the birds, not some rich man trying to talk your ear off. But. He’s so genuine about it. Like he actually wants to know. Be friendly to the guests, you think.

“I’m a morning person,” you tell him, resting your book on your lap. “And I love it here before everyone wakes up for the day, you know? Like it’s just me and the world.”

He nods in understanding. He props one foot up on the chair, bends his knee close to his chest. His shorts slide up to reveal a whole mess of tattoos on his thigh. You tell yourself not to stare.

“That’s how coming here feels for me,” he says, softly. “Nice to be away from people for a bit.”

You’re starting to wonder if maybe he’s different.

“Like a breath of fresh air,” you suggest. “But for your mind and heart, too.” You pause and roll your eyes at yourself. “Sorry, that’s a bit hippy of me to say, but-“

“No, I agree,” he says, softly.

Someone opens the door to the lodge and calls out his name. You swear his face drops. He turns over his shoulder and nods, and then pushes himself to stand up.

“Well. See ya ‘round,” he says, voice soft.

You nod and pick up your book again. “See ya.”

…..

You get to know him, bit by dangerously intriguing bit. He works for Red Bull, apparently. Doesn’t give many details past that, so you assume it’s boring. He does know Scotty James-

“There was a guy who came here last winter, a snowboarder, he had a Red Bull helmet-“ you say, snapping your fingers. “Scotty something, wasn’t it, Will?”

Will, your coworker, is cleaning glasses at the bar. He raises his brows at you, and his gaze flickers to Danny, and then he says “Scotty James.”

You nod and turn back to Danny. “You know him?”

Danny laughs. “I was in his wedding.”

Danny also has a ranch in Australia where he rides dirt bikes in what he refers to as the ‘off season’, whatever that’s supposed to mean. He shows you a video, and honestly, you’re not one for adrenaline but it looks pretty fun. You suggest they talk to your boss about taking the ATVs out on the trails, and he perks up at the sound of that.

Danny tells you about his family, too. About his parents, his sister, his nephew and niece.

“M’trying to teach them good music,” he tells you on the back porch one morning. “None of that little kid shit.”

You laugh. “None of the educational shit, you mean.”

“Music’s not for your brain,” he scoffs. “It’s for your soul.”

“There’s at least 100 scientists who would definitely disagree,” you tease.

You agree with him more than you’ll ever let on.

When he walks into the bar one evening and you have his drink already waiting for him, you start to wonder if you’ve grown a bit too attached.

…..

Your boss, Michael, calls you up to the main lodge early the next day. He’s bent over the front desk, crossing off names and writing new ones down. He looks up at you with wide eyes, brows furrowed.

“Hey. I know you’re not up on the rotation yet, but d’you think you could cover an overnight camping trip?” He asks. “Sadie’s out sick, and Billy’s got a family emergency.”

Though your main job is in the bar, all of the staff take turns taking guests on overnight trips in the mountains near the lodge. You hike out with them, help set up all the gear, start the fire, and then help pack up the next morning and hike back. Depending on the group, it can be fun. When they’re not too high maintenance, you can sit around the fire and tell fun stories and get paid to do it. Other trips, you end up setting up all the tents and doing all the work and then you get ignored for most of the night.

“It’d be you and Will,” your boss adds.

Will’s one of your favorite coworkers. The two of you get along great. Michael knows this, and you wonder for a moment if he’s already talked to Will, or if you’ll be a bribe to get him to agree, too. You lean over the counter and sigh.

“Are they gonna be annoying?” You ask. “Like. Are they the type who’re wearing the brand new gear, or no gear at all, or are they somewhat okay?”

He juts his chin towards the back porch, and you follow his gaze. Danny’s out there, throwing a football back and forth with one of his buddies. You quirk a brow and turn back to Michael.

“He didn’t ask for me, did he?” You ask quietly.

Michael’s brows furrow. “No. Is he making you uncomfortable? You know you can tell me-“

“No,” you insist, shaking your head. “He’s nice. Just, you know, checking.”

Michael nods. “So? What d’you say? You’d leave tomorrow, come back the next morning. Quick out and back.”

You shrug and nod. “Got nothing better to do.”

The guys are missing from the bar that night. You see them come in later, arms around each other, probably just back from some sort of expedition. One of them- Blake, you think his name is- is trying to corral all of them, reminding them of their big hike the next day. They disappear into the elevator. Just before the door closes, Danny looks straight at you and gives you a wide grin.

When you meet them in the lobby the next morning, his grin stretches even wider.

“No way,” he says, eyeing your hiking backpack and the boots on your feet. “Not only are you the best bartender, you also do guided hikes?”

You nod and smile. “Only one at a time, though. Unfortunately I’m not very good at making drinks in the backcountry.”

Danny shrugs. “We’ll survive.”

You clap your hands and look around at the group. “Alright, campers, you ready to hike?”

They all nod and chime in with various agreements, so you pick up your bags and head for the doors. Danny falls into step next to you near the front, while Will takes up the back of the pack. You run through your usual spiel that you do when you lead a hike, and then you’re off.

It’s peaceful for a few minutes. Like the guys are all trying to act like good naturalists, like they’re trying to soak it all in. And then Danny trips over a rock, and someone teases him for it, and it’s all downhill from there. It’s entertaining, really- the way they pick on each other. You can tell they’re genuinely friends.

You take a break for lunch at a perfect spot overlooking a valley. Danny whistles lowly when he sees the view, and he elbows you lightly.

“You take all the guys to this spot?” He jokes, wiggling his brows at you.

You roll your eyes and elbow him back. “Just the ones who are stupid enough to follow me deep into the woods.”

That earns you a full bellied laugh, one that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. You’re struck again by how genuine he is, how his walls are down or maybe even nonexistent. It makes your chest ache.

You eat lunch together, and you point out the mountains by name from the little overlook. They’re all great at playing along. They ask how the peaks got their names, which one is your favorite, if you’ve ever made it to the top of any of them.

“That one,” you say, pointing at one of the smaller peaks. “Mount Mirlo.”

“Mirlo?” Danny asks, testing out the word.

You nod. “I think it means… blackbird? Yeah. In Spanish.” You nod your head towards the mountain. “Anyways. They drag everyone up there the week they first get hired. It’s a hazing thing.”

“It’s not hazing if it’s fun,” Will chimes in, and Danny laughs. “Admit it. You had a good time.”

“I got bit by so many mosquitos and very sunburned,” you deadpan. Then you grin. “But yeah, it was sick.”

You set back off on the hike after lunch. Eventually, you come to a log bridge over a river. Danny peers over the edge as you wait on the other side, brows raised. There’s a little spot where the water pools there.

“Looks like a good spot to jump in.”

You laugh and wrinkle your nose. “That river is absolutely frigid. It’d be like an ice bath.”

He shrugs and grins at you. “Just saying.”

The camping spot isn’t far from the bridge. Once you arrive, you begin to unpack the tents to get them set up, while Will starts getting things ready for the fire. You unroll the tents, lay out the poles, and then-

Danny’s next to you, hands on his hips. “How can we help?”

You blink up at him from where you’re crouched near the ground. “Oh, you don’t have to… usually we do the set up.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “We came here to go camping,” he says. “Tell me what to do.”

They all get started setting up the tents, and you’re amazed at how much quicker things go when there are more people actually doing work. The camp is set up in record time, and someone helps Will gather firewood. Danny insists on helping to make dinner, too, and soon everyone’s sitting around the warm fire and eating happily.

“No food in the tents,” you warn, looking around the group at all of them. “It goes in the bear box. You don’t want a bear to come looking for breakfast in your tent.”

Danny nods in agreement with wide eyes. As everyone finishes dinner, they start chatting. You sit down on the dirt and stretch out backwards, staring up at the purple hues sky. The sun is setting, and when you lay down fully on the ground, your back aches. Danny, who’s sitting next to you, lays down too and lets out a long groan. You laugh.

There’s something about the proximity that has your heart racing. His hand is next to your on the ground. If you reached out just a little you could touch his warm skin. Nobody would even notice.

A bird lands in the tree. You pull your hand away to point at it instead.

“Blackbird,” you say, and Danny nods.

“Mirlo, right?” He says. You nod in response.

The bird starts singing. You mimic the sound by whistling, albeit not very well. You drop your hand back to the ground next to you as you do, and Danny laughs affectionately, attempting to whistle too. You swear you feel his pinky touch yours, and your whistling falters.

Will pulls out the marshmallows soon after. Everyone gets excited over that. You all wander around to find good sticks to roast them with, and then meet back at the fire. You watch in absolute horror as Danny takes his marshmallow and sticks it directly into the flames. It lights on fire mere seconds later, and by the time he pulls it out with a panicked noise and blows on it frantically, it’s charred and black. He gives you a sheepish look. You sigh.

“You’re so bad at this,” you say, shaking your head.

He nods in agreement. “Always have been.”

His friends try to give him instructions, but it’s no use. By the time he’s on his third burnt marshmallow, everyone else is on their second s’more. You take pity on him- before he can char another one, you take the stick from him and roast it for him. You stare in concentration, finding just the right spot and turning it carefully until it’s roasted perfectly golden brown. Will helps you assemble the s’more, and you hand it to Danny with a soft smile.

“Here,” you say, quietly.

He takes a bite, then lets out a soft moan that has you heating up in a way you shouldn’t be. “That’s amazing,” he says. There’s melted chocolate stuck to the corner of his mouth, and your fingers itch to wipe it away for him. “I crown you queen of s’mores.”

You curtsy, nodding your head at him. He laughs and nearly drops the treat. You spot the issue before he does, and your fingers bump clumsily against his as you try to assist him. His hands are warm, and probably sticky from the marshmallows. You don’t let your touch linger long enough to find out.

Eventually, everyone heads off to bed one by one. Will gives you a questioning look when it’s just the two of you and Danny left up. One of the guides always stays up until all the guests go to bed- it’s a safety thing. You nod to Will, and he stands and stretches and heads for bed. The two of you are sitting on a sideways log next to the fire, and once Will goes into his tent, it’s just the two of you, the flames, and the dark expanse of night.

“Spooky,” Danny says quietly.

You nod. “You get used to it, after a while. The dark gets a little less scary. The quiet, too. When I first got here, the quiet was so…”

“Loud?” He says.

You laugh, but he’s right. “Yeah. Loud.”

He nods in understanding. “It still feels like that for me. My day to day life is so noisy, you know? The quiet is a little overwhelming.”

You nod and nudge his shoulder. “That’s gotta be good for you, though. Healthy, I think, to take a break from the noise.”

His shoulders drop, and he leans against you, just barely. “You’ve got no idea, little mirlo.”

You laugh and lean into him, too. He’s warm and firm against you. You could reach out, could touch him, could tuck yourself right into his side. He’d probably wrap his arm around you, probably pull you close. You bet he smells good, like sweat and smoke and laundry detergent, and maybe vanilla, or something spiced and warm, or…

His pinky bumps against yours on the log. You suck in a breath and look up at him. There’s a question in his gaze, one that has you nearly choking on thin air before he even asks it out loud.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, nearly a whisper.

And you want to say yes. God, you want to say yes. But-

“Look, Danny,” you say, keeping your voice low. “You’re a sweetheart, really. And you’re cute-“

“Perfect, so-“

“But I don’t date guests,” you say, leveling your eyes at him. “Or, like- I don’t do hookups, or get close with guests. It’s against the workplace rules, and it’s a recipe for disaster.”

He smiles softly- you think somewhere deep in your heart, you knew he’d react like this. With kindness, understanding. He tilts his head, and he squeezes your knee gently.

“Okay,” he says, softly. “I’m not going to push you on this, because I don’t want to be a creep. But if you change your mind-“

“I won’t,” you say. You’re not sure if you’re trying to tell him or yourself.

“I know,” he agrees. You think he’s lying, too. “But if you do, promise you’ll let me know?”

You snort out a laugh and stick out your pinky. “Promise.”

He goes to bed soon after that. You stay up until the fire goes out, staring at the coals, wondering if you’ve made the right choice.

….

When you wake up the next morning to a shuffling noise outside your tent, your first thought is that the bears have finally come for you.

Your second thought, when you hear Danny’s laughter, bright and loud, is: why the hell is he awake? You can tell from the light outside that it’s barely morning. You hadn’t been planning on waking up for a few more hours, really. You hear him whisper your name loudly, and you groan, reaching to unzip the door to your tent just slightly.

He’s crouching in front of your tent, wearing a wide smile. “Wanna come jump in the river?”

You wonder for a second if this is some insane, weird dream. You blink and rub your eyes, but no, he’s still there.

“What?” You ask, voice scratchy with sleep.

“We’re gonna do a cold plunge,” he says. “Wanna join?”

“I thought you were a bear, you know.” You say, and he grins impossibly wider.

He makes a low growling noise. Behind him, near the fire ring, you hear one of his friends laugh. He rolls his eyes and reaches his hand out, tapping on the door of the tent.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he says.

“I didn’t bring my swimsuit,” you say. “And I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone call a cold plunge fun.”

Somehow, though, you find yourself following him, and his friends down to the river. You’re not surprised to find they haven’t talked Will into joining- he promises to have hot coffee waiting for all of you. You’re in a pair of spandex shorts and a baggy shirt- the same clothes you’d worn to sleep. Danny’s reassured you that none of them have real swimsuits either, and you figure you can let the clothes dry by the fire while you make breakfast when you get back. The morning is quiet as you all hike to the bank of the river, other than the sound of water getting louder and louder. There’s the bridge you crossed over on the way, and the little pool that Danny had said looked like the perfect spot to jump in.

“You know, when you mentioned jumping in yesterday, I thought you were joking,” you tell him. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?”

“Health,” he deadpans.

You stare at him, wide eyed, waiting for him to expand on the statement. When he doesn’t, you roll your eyes and kick off your shoes anyways. He picks his way down the riverbank, peering over the edge into the pool of water. You follow along, wanting to get it over with.

He turns over his shoulder, grins at you, and then jumps in feet first.

He emerges from the crystal clear water with that same stupid smile on his lips. He wipes droplets of water from his face as he treads water, letting out a loud whoop. You want to scold him for scaring off any potential wildlife, but then he’s waving you in, calling your name. You sigh and brace yourself, consider chickening out for a moment, and then jump in after him.

The icy water shocks your senses so badly that you have to remind yourself to not breathe in underwater. It feels like needles all over your skin for a few moments, then uncomfortable numbness. When you emerge above the surface, you do so with a sharp scream, and to the sound of Danny’s laughter. You shake your head wildly and try to brush the cold water off your face with shaking hands. Then you swim for the bank.

“Gotta stay in,” Danny calls out, and you turn to look at him. “No health benefits if you just jump right back out. Give it a few seconds.”

You glare at him, teeth already chattering. “I think you’re full of shit.”

Even if he is, you stay in the water. You find a spot where your feet can at least touch the bottom. The rest of his friends jump in, too, splashing each other and Danny. You laugh as you watch them, watch the pure joy of a bunch of men turning back into children again. Finally, Danny swims for the bank and reaches for your hand to help pull you out. Your whole body shakes and shivers, and there are no towels to dry off with, because this wasn’t in the plans. There are wool blankets, however, and Danny picks one up and holds it out wide. In a moment of weakness and extreme cold, you let him wrap you up in it. There’s water glistening on his skin- you try not to stare. Nobody’s around to see other than his friends, anyways.

The whole group trudges back up to the campsite, where Will has a fire roaring and water for coffee heating up. You duck into your tent to change into dry clothes, and you take everything other than your underwear back out with you to dry. You’re not ready for the guys to see that this early in the morning.

You sit down on one of the logs, bundled up in a hoodie and sweatpants. Your wet hair drops cold water onto the back of your neck, and you shiver. The guys are still in their tent, and you can hear them chattering with each other. Will is eyeing you warily.

“I really didn’t think they’d talk you into it,” he says, quietly.

You shrug and muffle a yawn into your elbow. “He’s persuasive.”

Will quirks a brow. “Yeah?”

You close your eyes and drag a hand down your face. “Not like that.”

He hums. “The dude obviously has a crush on you.”

You pull your knee up to your chest. “I know. We talked about it. I told him… you know. It’s against the company policy-“

“You do remember how I met my wife, right?” He asks, quietly.

You keep your eyes closed, mostly because you don’t want to see the look on his face. “Yeah. Shut up.”

“Just saying,” he says, softly.

Before you can respond, there’s a commotion from the tent. You open your eyes to Danny stumbling his way towards the two of you, now dressed in a fuzzy sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. He saunters over to you and stops short, warming his hands on the fire.

“Well? Feeling the health effects?” He asks.

“I feel like a drowned rat,” you state, glaring up at him.

“You look like a drowned rat,” Will chimes in. You elbow him harshly.

“Mm, no, cuter than a drowned rat. Maybe a drowned koala. A drowned puppy?” Danny suggests, then frowns. “Alright, never mind, that felt morbid.”

The three of you laugh. One by one, his friends make appearances. Will hands out coffee and asks about the river, and you smile at the retelling of events. Eventually, you pack up all the gear- with help from everyone, a happy change from most groups, and head down the trail once again.

You know Danny will forget about you after he leaves, but you wonder if you’ll ever be able to lead another camping trip to this spot without thinking of him.

…..

Danny sticks to his word- he doesn’t make a move again. He does continue to spend time with you. You’re not exactly complaining, but it doesn’t make your decision any easier. He finds you on the back porch the next morning after the camping trip and resumes your morning coffee tradition. You put the book down fully this time- slip the bookmark into your page and close the cover. Your time may be limited with him, but you’re going to soak up every second.

You’re trying desperately not to get attached. It’s not working. He’s telling you a story about Australia, about his ranch there, about the dirt bikes and his parents and everything in between. And you sit there and regret ever telling him he couldn’t kiss you.

You know it was the right choice. Know it’ll only cause you heartbreak. But he’s so attractive, and sweet, and he loves his mother- his mum, even the way he says it is cute. You want to tell him you changed your mind. You sip your coffee instead.

You’ll be able to survive the rest of the week. Danny and his friends leave on Saturday. It’s Thursday now. That’s only a few more interactions, if you’re lucky. Only a couple more back porch morning coffee meetings, a few more drinks at the bar. You’ll survive, he’ll leave, and you’ll both move on. He probably already has.

Then you’re in the break room and you hear someone mention the Friday bonfire and Danny’s name in the same sentence, and your heart drops.

You and your coworkers have bonfires down by the employee housing every Friday. People who are working join after their shifts, and you all rotate the early Saturdays to make sure everyone can have a good time at least once a month. It’s your way to unwind. It’s supposed to be employees only, and sometimes a couple people’s friends. The only guests who’ve ever attended a bonfire since you started working at the lodge were a girl named Britt and her friends, and now Britt is married to your coworker Will.

“So Danny actually said they’d be at the bonfire?” Will asks, and you turn to stare at them.

Maybe he’s not talking about your Danny. You shake your head, knowing that calling him yours, even in your head, is stupid.

“Danny?” You ask. “Like- Danny?”

Will nods.

“What happened to no guests at bonfires?” You ask, turning towards the coffee maker to start another pot.

Tony, one of the kitchen staff, laughs. “Yeah, sure, but it’s a bit different when it’s Danny Ric, isn’t it?”

You shake your head in confusion and turn back to your two coworkers. “Have you even met him, Tony? Why are you out here calling him nicknames?”

Tony blinks widely at you. “That’s what everyone calls him.”

“Everyone.”

Tony nods and shovels a forkful of pasta into his mouth. You grimace. Will watches the two of you, an amused smile on his face. Someone calls Tony’s name, and he goes racing towards the kitchen, leaving his pasta abandoned on the table. You turn your stare to Will. Suddenly, you realize something.

“He’s like…” you sigh and sink down into a nearby chair. “He doesn’t just work for Red Bull, does he?”

Will laughs. “He told you he was in Scotty James’ wedding and you really thought he was just some company exec?”

“Will, I barely know who Scotty is!” You snap. “You should’ve told me.”

Will shrugs and pats your shoulder when he walks past you. “It was more fun this way. Besides, if he didn’t tell you, bet he didn’t want you to know.”

“What does he-“ you cut yourself off. “I mean, is he an athlete, then?”

Will is scraping food from his plate into the compost bin. “You ever heard of Formula One?”

You pick at your salad. “It’s like NASCAR, isn’t it?”

He makes a coughing noise. “Okay, maybe don’t start with that. I’ll give you a basic rundown.”

When you do see Danny the next morning, bright and early, you choose to start with, “good morning, Danny Ric,” instead.

He pauses halfway across the porch, hands at his sides. His skin is glistening with sweat. You’re wearing sunglasses- the perfect chance to let your eyes wander, just a little bit. He wipes at his brow and cocks his head.

“You don’t just work for Red Bull,” you say, and he chews on his lower lip. “I mean, understatement of the century.”

He laughs at that and takes a few steps towards you. “Yeah. Sorry.”

You shrug. “You could’ve told me, you know. I wouldn’t have treated you any differently.”

Instead of going for his normal spot in the chair next to yours, he stands in front of you. If he moved just an inch farther, his knee would touch yours. He sighs.

“I know. It wasn’t that. Honestly, I just figured you wouldn’t care,” he says with a shrug. “Like. You must get so many people here trying to convince you they’re not boring. It’s gotta get exhausting.”

You laugh at that. “Yeah, but your job is actually interesting,” you say. “You know, it does explain all the running. And all the adrenaline chasing.”

He finally sits down- you breath a sigh of relief. You weren’t really sure how he’d feel if you brought it up, but you hated the idea of knowing something about him without him knowing. You stick to your word- you don’t treat him differently. You pick your book back up and read for a bit until he gets fidgety, until he decides he wants to tell you another story. And then you listen with a smile, because it’s Danny. The joy is infectious.

…..

“You ever been to Yosemite?” He asks you later that afternoon.

You’re working the lunch shift at the bar. Danny had been wandering through the lobby, spotted you, and sat down for a drink. He’s having a mocktail, something you came up with just for him. You wonder how long it’ll be before one of his entourage comes looking for him. His phone has been buzzing repeatedly on the bar, and he’s been ignoring it.

You shake your head. “Not yet. It’s on my bucket list,” you say.

He nods. “That’s where we’re headed next. Spending a week there, and then it’s back to work.”

You blow out a long breath through pursed lips. “Your life is so difficult,” you say, teasingly.

He grins and shakes his head. “Wanna come with?”

You laugh as you scrub at a spot on the bar. You wait for him to echo the sound. He doesn’t. You look up at him, wide eyed. He should be laughing, he always laughs at his own jokes- it should be annoying, but it’s sort of endearing, the way he can’t finish a sentence sometimes, how he doesn’t make it to the punchline.

But he’s not laughing. “I’m being serious,” he says.

“Danny,” you say with a soft sigh. “We have a policy-“

“As friends,” he interrupts. “I promised I wouldn’t pressure you. That’s not what this is. You’re just… really cool, and we’ve got room in the car, and… I could really use your s’mores skills. Blake is shit at it.”

You cock your head at him. “I have to work. Not all of us get week long vacations in the middle of tourist season.”

He lets out a long sigh. “Right. Yeah.”

“Sorry,” you say, realizing you’re being a little harsh. “And thank you. The invite is really sweet. I just…”

I just can’t look at you without wanting to kiss you. The words are there, at the forefront of your mind and on the top of your tongue. It’s becoming a real problem, because he’s about to leave and you’re going to be stuck here, waiting and hoping he comes back. And he’s sitting here, asking you to go to a national park with him, and you want to say yes so badly because you think that maybe kissing him would be the best thing you’ve ever done. That maybe letting him in might be the right choice.

But he’s a guest, it’s against the rules, and he’s leaving. He sighs and nods, downs the last of his mocktail. He finally picks up his phone and raises his brows, then gives you a sheepish look.

“Gotta go,” he says, softly. “But I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

You nod. “See you tonight.”

…..

You take your time getting ready for the bonfire. It’s difficult- usually you wouldn’t think twice about what you’re going to wear, or what you look like. But Danny’s going to be there, and suddenly everything’s different. You have a thin line to walk- go all out, and your coworkers will notice and tease you. Don’t put in enough effort, and maybe Danny won’t even look your way tonight.

You eventually settle on a pair of jeans and a crew neck sweatshirt. The sun has just gone down, and there’s already a chill in the air. You make your way down to the bonfire area, following the well worn trail and the smell of smoke.

Danny’s already there, standing around near the firepit. His friends are all scattered with the rest of your coworkers, eating hot dogs that were cooked over the fire and chatting. Someone’s set up lawn games, far enough from the firepit to keep anyone from getting injured. You grab a drink from the cooler and make your way towards the group, trying not to stare at Danny.

He calls out your name, though, in front of everyone, which gives you a valid excuse to make your way towards him. You weave through throngs of people and end up right by his side. He’s been chatting with Will and Britt, which you think is probably a dangerous combination for your sake.

“Bout time you showed up,” Danny says brightly. “I’m in s’mores withdrawal, and once I’ve had one of yours, I can’t go back.”

You laugh and kick your toe at the ground. “I told you, I did absolutely nothing different.”

“Nah, he’s right,” Britt chimes in, and you throw a glare in her direction. “You’re a s’mores magician.”

You sigh and roll your eyes, and then you turn to Danny. “You get me the supplies and I’ll make you a s’more.”

He bounces away eagerly. Both Will and Britt are watching you with knowing looks. Feeling childish, you stick your tongue out at them. Will manages to look vaguely offended, while Britt just laughs.

Danny returns with a roasting stick and all the s’mores ingredients. You take them without complaint, watching his hands as he gets the crackers and chocolate set up. He follows you closer to the fire as you search for just the right spot.

“He kept burning his to a crisp on the camping trip,” you tell Britt, a teasing lilt to your voice. “That’s why I made him one. He was helpless.”

Britt laughs. Danny jabs at your side, and you let out a yelp. Your drink is hanging from your other hand, and you take a sip before you stick the marshmallows over the fire. Across the fire, Tony, the guy who called Danny Danny Ric, is watching you with wide eyes and whispering to one of your other coworkers. This is what you were worried about- get close to Danny, and people will start talking. But he’s leaving tomorrow, and you can’t bring yourself to care.

“See, it’s not about the flames,” you tell Danny, who leans closer to listen. You gesture with your beer. “It’s the coals. You find the right spot, and then you gotta have patience. It’s a slow process.”

He lets out a hiss. “M’not good at patience. Or slow.”

You roll your eyes and smirk. “I’m sure you’re very fast.”

He gasps in mock hurt and digs his fingers into your ribs again. You squeak and bat his hand away.

“You’re gonna ruin the marshmallows!” You warn as he reaches for you again.

He pulls his hand back and smiles innocently. You take a sip of your drink and stare up at him through your lashes, the same way he does to you when he’s sitting at the bar. You wonder if it has the same effect on him as it does on you. From the way he swallows, you think it might.

…..

You’ve only had a couple drinks, because as much as you’ve said you’re going to forget about him, you really do want to remember every last moment. It gets late far too quickly. The stars are out, and the moon too, casting everything in a silvery glow. The moonlight paints one side of Danny’s face- the fire, the other. Warm and cold at the same time.

More than half the people who started the night there have wandered back to their rooms and cabins. Danny’s friends all went to bed a while ago, gave him stern instructions to join them soon. They’re leaving early tomorrow, getting up with the sun and heading out. He needs sleep.

Instead, he’s sitting next to you on a log next to the fire. Your knees are touching, shoulders brushing with every movement. He’s nursing his second beer of the night. You stare at the rose tattoo on his hand and fight the urge to trace the inked lines.

He nudges your shoulder lightly. You stare up at him, face warm, not from the fire.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head?” He asks, voice low.

You shrug. You can’t tell him. I want to kiss you. I want to feel your hands on me. I want to read the tattoo on your chest, trace the lines of all of them. I want you. I changed my mind. Except, really, you’ve wanted this the whole time.

“Just tired,” you say instead, rubbing your thumb against the can in your hand. “I know it’s your last night here and all, but I might head to bed.”

It hits you like a sucker punch as you say it- if you go now, you’re saying goodbye. You could get up early and see him off, but you think that’d be a bit much. He seems to realize it too- his face drops.

“I’ll walk you back,” he offers.

“You don’t have to,” you answer.

You want him to. But you know what you’ll do if you make it to the door of your cabin and he’s standing next to you. You know the choice you’ll make. You’ll regret it in the morning when he’s gone and already forgetting about you, when you’re just the girl he hooked up with at the lodge on his vacation, when he goes back to his life of luxury and supermodels and-

“I want to,” he says, softly. “There’s bears here, you know.”

He growls lowly, right near your ear. You giggle to cover up the way it makes you feel like you’re on fire. When he stands and holds out his hand to help you up, you let him. He says goodbye to a couple people. You avoid Will and Britt’s gazes. Then the two of you set off down the path.

He keeps his distance. I’m not going to push you on this, because I don’t want to be a creep. But if you change your mind… You reach out, bump your hand against his. Knuckle to knuckle. He echoes the touch. Then you wiggle your fingers against his, desperately hoping he gets the message. When he tangles his fingers with yours, something slips into place.

There’s this energy thrumming in your body when you make it to the cabin area. You’re sure you’re shaking with it, even more sure that he’s noticed. You head for your cabin and squeeze his fingers. It’s dark here, nothing but the light of the moon to see by. You walk up to the door, his hand still in yours.

“D’you wanna come in for a drink?” You ask, trying desperately to sound nonchalant.

He squeezes your fingers. You turn over your shoulder and meet his eyes. They’re half lidded and dark. Like he knows where this is going.

“I don’t want to pressure you,” he says. “That’s not what this was about. I don’t-“

“I know,” you say with a nod. “I know.”

He nods, ducks his head. You push open the cabin door and step inside, hand still linked with his. He takes a deep breath.

“I won’t be offended if you don’t want to,” you say, softly. “You can change your mind, too.”

His eyes slip closed, and he shakes his head. Then he follows you in through the open door.

He’s the one to shut it. And then his hand slips from yours and falls to your hip, pulling you close. You wrap your arms around his neck. Your heart is racing in your chest. You wonder if his is too. You blink up at him, watching the way his jaw clenches.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks again, for the second time in a week.

“Please?” You ask, softly.

It’s like all his resolve disappears with that one single word. The night fades around you- it's just you and him. Nothing else matters.

His lips are hot and insistent against yours. When his hands fall to your hips, they’re even hotter and more insistent. He walks you back towards the bed, shoving at your sweatshirt and the t-shirt underneath it. You do the same with his hoodie, hands scrambling underneath, searching for skin. The skin you’ve been looking at all week, wishing you could touch- you can, now.

He’s in your room, in your space, and he backs you up to the bed. Your knees hit the mattress, and you fall back, away from his kissing, with a soft laugh. You stare up at him through your lashes, your whole body on fire. His hand falls to your knee and draws a slow line up your thigh. You reach up and tug on the hem of his sweatshirt, chest already rising and falling rapidly.

He leans over you, and you know your hand in the neck of the fabric, trying to pull him closer. He has himself propped up over you with one hand, eyes lit up like firelight, lips parted.

“Kiss me,” you whine, as his palm falls to your hip and squeezes. “Danny-“

His lips meet yours again, and it’s frantic after that. You shove his shirt over his head- yours follows it to the pile on the floor. He steps out of his jeans after you undo the button and the zipper, and then he’s tugging your pants down your legs, breath catching in his chest as he gazes down at you. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, biting down, and you trace fingers up the ridges of his abdomen. He traces a line from your navel up the center of your chest, presses his thumb to your lips, and you whine.

“Please, Danny,” you breathe.

His eyes slip shut. “M’trying to prove I can be slow and patient.”

You gasp as his hand cups your jaw. “Yeah- well- I can’t, so-“

He laughs lowly, and with his other hand, he hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties. “C’mon, little blackbird,” he says, and you writhe on the bed underneath him as he runs a thumb over your core, pressing into the wetness there. “Sure you can.”

When he sinks to his knees and buries his face between your legs, you thank the stars you didn’t let him leave without getting a taste of this, of him.

…..

After, the two of you lay spent in your bed. You’re tracing lines on his bare skin, both still naked. There are marks all over your bodies- hickies and fingerprints and bite marks. You’ll be feeling him inside of you for days, you’re sure. You run your finger under the words on his chest. Of Love And Life.

You know the song, so you start to whistle it. His laughter rumbles under your ear, deep in his chest, and then he starts to sing along with your whistling. It’s silly. If you told any of your friends about it, they’d cringe. But you feel the vibration of the words under his ribs and wish you could stay like this forever.

Eventually he stops singing, and you stop whistling. His hand sweeps up your bare back, fingers drawing shapes on your spine.

“Your cabin is cute,” he says.

You pick your head up and rest your chin on your hand that lays flat on his chest. “Thanks.”

He nods towards the poster on the wall. Yosemite is written in big letters, and you sigh.

“Offer’s still open,” he says, quietly. “No pressure. But.”

You let your eyes fall closed. “Danny.”

He cranes his neck up to press a kiss to your cheek. “I know. Sorry. I just don’t want to say goodbye yet.”

“We won’t say goodbye then. We’ll say see you later,” you suggest. It’s cheesy, but it feels right. “And you can stay the night, if you want.”

You expect him to say no. You’re sure his friends are going to panic when they realize he’s not in the room. But he just nods and pulls you close, and you rest your head on his chest again, and soon enough, you’re falling asleep, just like that.

You wake up the next morning before the sun is even up. The alarm on his phone is going off, and he’s doing a very bad job of muffling his swearing as scrambles out of bed to search for it. You tug the blankets over your head and groan until he shuts the noise off. You hear his footsteps, heading back to the bed. He tugs the blanket down so he can see your eyes and leans close.

“I gotta go, baby,” he says, quietly. It’s like it pains him.

“Yeah, I know,” you say, feeling like it pains you just as much.

He kisses your forehead and pulls the blanket down farther. He sits down on the edge of your bed and plants on hand right next to your head. You turn your face, press your lips to the inside of his wrist. Then you wrap your hand around his bicep and sigh.

“Thank you,” he says. “I had an amazing time this week. Wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

You laugh and squeeze his arm. “You just liked the s’mores.”

“No, I-“

“I know. Me too. Thank you,” you say.

He kisses your lips one more time. You press your hand to his cheek and try to burn this into your brain. Then he kisses your forehead again and stands up with a long stretch.

“See you later, mirlo,” he says, sounding more unsure than you’ve ever heard him.

“See you later,” you echo.

You watch him leave. Watch him walk to the door, watch the slope of his shoulders under his sweatshirt. Something awful twists in your chest.

“Hey, Danny, do me a favor?” You call out. He turns, brows raised.. “Try not to forget me, yeah?”

The corner of his lips tugs up into a half smile. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

You close your eyes so you don’t have to watch him leave. You hear the latch of the door and bury your face in your pillow, resisting the urge to scream. You’d have at least three of your coworkers at the door if you did. The last thing you need is to alert anyone of Danny’s presence in your cabin, though they probably already know. You don’t want to give them any sort of confirmation, though. You roll over in bed and open your eyes, and you’re met with bright blue fabric, folded neatly on top of the other pillow. Danny’s t-shirt, left behind. Deliberately, it seems, from the way it’s folded. It’s some souvenir shirt from a ski chalet you’ve never heard of. He’d been wearing it the night before- you took it off of him. He left it on purpose for you to find. For you to have. In your moment of weakness, you grab it and press it to your nose and breathe in. That’s when you realize you’re absolutely never getting over him.

And then, you think. He left his shirt. He wanted you to have something to remember him by. In all of this, maybe you’re not the only one afraid of being forgotten. He’s larger than life, he’s a damn celebrity, but he’s leaving a little piece of him behind so you have a reminder. Like he knows you’ll put the shirt in your drawer and feel that feeling in your chest every time you reach for a different one. The bright blue is permanently burned into your brain.

Feeling especially self pitying, you reach for your phone, knowing that your camera roll from the past week is filled with pictures of him. May as well wallow in it, right?

…..

Danny throws the last bag into the trunk of the car and sighs. Blake slaps his shoulder, heavy handed, so hard it almost hurts. Maybe he needs that.

He’s been looking all over for you. He’d thought maybe you’d come to see them off, or that he’d at least see you once more before he left. But you’re not on the back porch reading, and you’re not in the restaurant, and you’re not in the employee break room, either. He thinks about going to your cabin and then realizes that would be crazy, and probably a little creepy. You’ve already said goodbye- or see you later, but still.

Someone starts the car. He drags a hand down his face. “I need coffee,” he says, and Blake nods.

Danny jerks his thumb towards the lodge and then walks in to grab a cup to go. He’s only delaying the inevitable, really. If you were going to show up to say goodbye, you’d already be there. He should just be happy with what he’s had. Happy that you let him in the way you did. He should’ve known it would only leave him wanting more, but it’s a bit late for that now.

He walks back outside, cup of coffee in hand, a frown on his face. His friends are packing the last bags and climbing into the car, and Blake is-

He nearly trips over his own feet, nearly spills his coffee down his chest. Because Blake is talking to you. You’re standing there, a book in one hand, his blue t-shirt in the other. His gut twists. Blake sees Danny and backs away to give the two of you space. Danny’s heart is racing as he walks up to you.

You hold the shirt out to him. “You left this.”

He left it on purpose, and he thought that was pretty obvious. Maybe that was unfair. Maybe it was selfish of his to want to leave a reminder of himself for you. He frowns and reaches for the shirt, tries to take it from your hand. You don’t let go when he pulls on it, and he looks at you in confusion.

“You left it on purpose,” you say, quietly.

He nods and swallows. “I didn’t want you to forget me, either.”

You nod back. You’re staring up at him, this knowing look in your eyes that has him frozen right in place. His heart skips a beat in his chest. You tilt your head towards the trunk of the car- there’s another bag sitting there, on top of all the rest of them.

“Blake says that seat’s still open,” you say, and he holds his breath. “And Will texted me this morning and said they’ve covered all my shifts for the week, for some reason.” He shrinks under your gaze, knowing that’s probably because he mentioned the Yosemite trip, and his inviting you, to Will. “So.”

“So,” he echoes, a little bit scared to believe that what he thinks is happening actually is.

You shrug and shoot him a bright, sunny smile. “I’ve always wanted to see Yosemite. And you need a s’mores girl. Still want me to come along?”

When he sweeps you into a big, dramatic kiss, right there on the front lawn of the lodge, you don’t complain. You just wrap your arms around him and kiss him back. In the trees above your heads, a blackbird sings.

for posterity’s sake please let it be known that i mostly finished this on January 31st, 2024, and then woke up to the news that Lewis Hamilton is going to ferrari in 2025. I feel like that is an important detail to be known. I decided to post it anyways. Thanks for reading the longest fic i have ever written i hope you enjoyed 💛

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo fic #Daniel Ricciardo oneshot #Daniel Ricciardo #danny ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fluff #Daniel Ricciardo fanfic #Daniel Ricciardo imagine #danny ricciardo #Danny Ricciardo fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fluff

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chainsawseesaw · 7 months

Text

Chapter One

The Chase

❥❥❥

“Next, our last mission that I’ll be handing out today,” The sheriff looked up from the paper he was holding for a moment, glancing around the room. “Sargent MayFord,”

My eyes glance from the whiteboard behind him to the officer in front of me; his shoulders are broad, and horns adorn the top of his head.

“I’d like to speak with you alone.” He gestures softly to the rest of the room. “Everyone else has their assignments; be on with it. I want everyone back by nine o’clock.”

I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary lately; its been nothing but the usual patrols. We work in a pretty small town; there isn't much crime to thwart here.

Watching as the other members of my group leave the room for the day, I take in the abundance of diversity. A while back, this would have bothered me, but as I've aged, I’ve done my best to relax my stuck up attitude as much as possible and to be accepting. I feel my tongue sweep over my front teeth; it would be nice if everyone was as willing to broaden their horizons.

“Klara, I’d like to see you in my office.”

I nod and stand. I find myself scanning the sheriff up and down, and I note that, on average, he must be quite intimidating. What with the broad frame and standing around 6’6” if I had to guess, but having a whole two feet or so on him has me rather underwhelmed as I look at him.

My feet carry me forward as I duck to enter his office. He’s already seated himself, and I do the same, my hand finding its way to my face as I itch beneath my missing eye.

The sheriff, or, I suppose I could call him by his name, Duck, straightens the file in his hand before turning to look back at me.

“There've been reports of vampyre attacks all around the northern part of Sunworth County. I’ve had a few other detectives on the case as well, but I can’t seem to get any of them to find any damn evidence.”

“You want me on the case?” I respond, hearing my own accent strongly contrast with his mild drawl. Having lived in Cheswich my whole life, I suppose the accent has come on strong.

“MayFord, you’re the best detective I have. I reckon that no one else could’ve solved this case if they tried, and oh boy, my guys tried.” He leans back in his chair before standing and walking over to his oh so stereotypical cork board. “Care to join me?”

I nod and walk over, glancing over the red lines and photos, observing the Polaroid in the centre of it all. My eye blurs for a moment as I glance down at the nearly indistinguishable photo of a man. He’s hovering over a sheep, his face smeared with crimson. I can’t tell this from that in the image, not even the colour of his hair. He has one defining feature, however, a large eye in the middle of his forehead, a cyclops.

“This is the only photo we’ve gotten,” Duck says, pointing at the Polaroid. “He’s incredibly slippery.”

Tracing the red string I see photos of different attacks, animals, people, gutted, and gored. I feel my stomach turn ever so slightly, despite my years on the force.

“How many victims have there been, Sheriff?”

“Thirteen people—most of them happen to be elves. And we stopped counting the livestock.” His eyes flit back and forth between the images, dates scrawled in red ink at the top of each.

“Do we know that it’s all been the same vamp?” I say, turning to look down at Duck as he looks back and forth between the evidence.

“We’re pretty damn sure, though some of these corpses are rather inconsistent in how theyve been mutilated, they all have the same tooth pattern.”

I nod, following as the sheriff walks back over to his desk and takes a seat. He hands me the file as he lights a cigar.

“My trust is in you, Klara; you’ve got to catch this monster.”

I take a deep breath and clutch the file close to my chest, walking out of the sheriff's office and closing the door on my way out.

Sitting down, the file flits open, showing me that the last place our Vamp was seen was in Wesline Forest, a rather long ride from our department. I stand again, deciding to get a head start, knowing I won't be there till sundown.

❥❥❥

I hop off my horse, landing on my feet with a gentle thud. I look back towards the west at true as it dips below the horizon. Making my way into the forest, I click on my flashlight. Apparently, there’s a farm not too far into the woods that has had repeat attacks each night. This is my best shot to find this vamp.

After a few minutes of walking, I wander into a clearing. A barn looms in the distance, and a fence surrounds it. I can hear the shuffling of scared animals, and I know that I’ve found him immediately.

“Jackpot.”

My boots tread thickly on the newly fallen leaves that scatter across the forest floor as I pick up speed into a jog. My hand rests on the fence as I look into the pasture, already having clicked off my light before I made my way over. The tale-tell slurping and bleeting makes my ears perk up, and I watch the figure in the dark. He looks up, and I see his large eye glint off the remaining light in the sky, though there isn’t much now. His head ducks back down, and the awful slurping continues. I flash my light at him in an attempt to get him to stand, but he simply sits up, slurping up an intestine in a single swallow. Its disgusting and awfully impressive.

Blood coats his wide grin and slowly drips down his chin as he cocks his head at me. His hair is a wild mess, but I can make out its bright orange colour in the remaining light.

“I need you to come with me.” I shout at him as he stands, wiping his hands on the remaining white parts of the sheep to clean himself. I start to hop the fence, but as I do, he bolts back around and into the deeper parts of the woods. Fuck.

I decide hopping the fence isn't worth it, and instead I trek into the woods as well, following the sounds of running. I’m grateful the gods blessed me with long legs as I catch up with the lanky man before me, but as I try to grab him by the shoulder, my hand slips, and I watch as a rabbit runs into the brush.

Confused, I continue moving forward, following the amber rabbit’s path. My uniform continually snags on branches and thorny underbrush, a routine annoyance that happens when I find myself in the woods over and over again. As I bend to tuck my navy pant back into my combat boot, I see it again. The rabbit in the middle of a clearing, sitting atop a log. It cleans itself using its back leg. I know its him due to the blood staining around its mouth.

I crouch down further, moving into the clearing as quietly as I possibly can so as not to disturb him as he shifts back. Bones and cartilage crack together as his body reforms into the man from earlier, his long marigold hair framing his pale, slender body, and as the moonlight hits him, he looks strangely beautiful. From his long, bloodied claws to his tongue that cleans around his crimson coated lips. Mesmerised for a mere moment by the movement, he touches the tip of his chin and licks down his chest with the appendage, lapping up the spilled viscera. His form is unnatural in a way that isn't entirely unappealing.

He stands, glancing around himself but not noticing me. Thank the gods. He begins to walk towards the nearby river, and I wait for him to vanish before I follow suit. He steps on a stick, and I see him jump slightly, his tail standing on end. This must be why no one else in the department could catch him. It seems as though he has superhuman hearing, not unlike myself. The vamp lets out a relieved sigh, his breath clouding in the air. As he continues walking forward, the sound of running water greets my ears.

Leaning over, he scoops up water between his thin fingers. He looks almost as though he doesn't eat, his bones nearly showing, though I assume its from all the time spent alone and running through this part of the woods that he doesn't see much food aside from the sheep and people he mauls.

His fingers tuck beneath his white tank, and he peels it off his body, slick with sweat and almost glowing pale in the moonlight. He glances around himself again, his eye lingering over my space in the underbrush. I find my hand over my right side, above my misplaced heart, thumping rapidly beneath my skin. He must be able to hear it. Shit. I panic a moment, my heart accelerating further. Its not like I can move now, so I focus on my breathing, looking down as I allow myself time to recoup my body. For the love of the gods, I do not want to compromise this mission.

I watch as he trails along the side of the river, and I find my chance to rise from the underbrush, hiding behind the thickest of the trees. He slings his tank over his left shoulder, humming softly to himself as he walks towards the waterfall at the end of the river. He has no shame. Blood still clots in his orange ringlets and stains down his gaunt chest, covered in brown freckles.

Large spottings of brush and bushes coat the surrounding area of the short waterfall, and I watch as he tucks through the brush onto the other side, slipping out of my sight. I step out from behind my tree, glancing down at my watch. I know that I'm going to be home awfully late, but it will all be worth it.

I follow his tracks through the brush, allowing myself to track him much easier by the six toed bloody footprints. I spot him there, sitting in his shorts, dipping his feet into the water beyond the fall. He doesn't see me; thank the gods.

He stands a moment, his back turned twoards me, and as he leans down, I see his spine protrude from his back. I sigh and slip my head back behind the rock that I find myself pressed against. My ears perk up as I hear the familiar zip of a zipper, and I glance around again, watching as his shorts fall to the ground, his back still turned to me. I find my eyes wandering down, and I note that he isnt wearing anything underneath, This man- I hide again, cursing my aching chest as I am racked with a feeling of deja vu, almost as though I am in his shoes and that he was once in the same position as I am. Odd.

As I slip back out, I see him dunk below, combing through his hair with those spindly fingers. Blood rushes in droves through the rushing water, and he sings softly to himself. His voice is high and angelic in the most alluring way. A siren almost. He glances behind his shoulder, and his pupil dilates at the sight of me. I panic, clinging to my safe space

“You don’t need to hide, angel.” He murmurs in that singsong tone.

My breath hitches in my throat, and I make my way forward, glancing back to make sure he doesn’t see me again. Who cares at this point? He knows who's hunting him already. I hope to be the one who kills him too, not that any of my department's other vampire hunters have gotten any kills aside from me. I take one last look, and for a god forsaken moment, our eyes meet, and he smiles—a nasty blood soaked smile.

I begin deciding that I’ll bring wooden stakes with me on my next hunt, and he won’t make it out alive.

❥❥❥

I fiddle with the file in front of me as I listen to Duck hand out the cases for the day, and as I was expecting, he calls me up last.

“Take all the time you need to prepare, Mayford. I’ll be in my office when you’re ready.”

I simply nod, finishing the paragraph I was jotting down and capping my pen, preparing for the rehash I’m going to have to give the sheriff.

As I sit down across from Duck, I slide over the file, its tan edges covered in spilled ink from my writing the night before.

“I did my best to write down all that I saw." Well, maybe not all. “Everything I found essential is there.”

“Wonderful,” he rasps, opening the folder and glancing over my cursive. “You’ve written a lot; you must’ve been on quite the chase last night."

I nod, sliding my wedding ring on and off of my finger. My eyes trace the corkboard, and I sigh, hoping to complete this case fast and easy, though it almost never ends up that way.

“Did you come across anything that could prove why this man has been so elusive?’ He speaks softly, his eyes still scanning the document in hand.

“Well, he has impeccable hearing.” Duck nods as I speak, glancing up to look at me. “He almost caught me several times.”

I find myself standing, looking down at the sheriff. As I speak, I am excited to have found evidence no one else has.

“But the main reason I believe he has so easily slipped between our fingers, sheriff- He’s a shapeshifter.”

#bab #klara n steven #Lady & The Vamp #oc shit #BaB #booze & bloodshed #booze and bloodshed #Booze & Bloodshed AU #new chapter monday #I'll be posting more often on this blog btw #new chapters will be every other monday #and once all my series start posting I'll make a master post #vampire romance #vampire fiction #vampire fantasy #vampires #vampire

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mlobsters · 7 months

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supernatural s11e19 the chitters (w. nancy won)

what on earth kind of story requires this setup of sam and dean-esque parallel kids that also involves one of the kids being gay and some goofy fucking monster

SAM So … so we get back out there. We get back to work. We keep moving. We keep working. We’ll catch a break on Cas. We have to. It’s … it’s karma. DEAN You know, karma’s been kicking us in the teeth lately.

LOL lately. yes, new phenomenon

dean/jackles sounds sick

i gasped when she showed up lol, she's so beautiful and i know i've seen in her in something but i'm not sure what. she was in bsg (imdb), but i have almost no memory of that show honestly

SHERIFF TYSON Twenty-seven years ago. About a dozen residents went missing. Twenty-seven years before that, another eight disappeared.

sounds like tooms on the xfiles with his every 30 year liver feast

After eating foie gras during a trip to France, Carter proposed the idea that the villain should consume human livers.[6][7] Morgan noted that the writers settled on the liver because it was "funnier" than any other organ.[6]

LOLL okay

DEAN What, you’re saying it was junkless?

i just talked about the junkless metatron in dogma recently lol after remembering the crack dean made about a junkless angel early on

DEAN Green eyes, buzzing. Weed alone doesn’t conjure up that kind of scenario. [turns to Sam] Isn’t that right, Sam? SAM Dude, I was eighteen. DEAN Sinner. SAM It was college. It was probably oregano anyways. DEAN Rebel. SAM You’re an idiot.

glad dean enjoyed teasing sam about it. and i'm sure dean has partaken in pot more than once :p

cosigning this glare at dean

ah, the hunter origin story being the reason for the weird show open. why didn't i think of that! pretty sure i've seen this conversation with them that's about to happen, in a gifset. roll the dice on whether i will think it's cute or get annoyed at the wincest bait*

DEAN Ah, you guys fight just like brothers, almost as bad as us. CESAR Well, it’s more like an old married couple. DEAN That’s … Oh, so … [points back and forth to Jesse and Cesar] CESAR Yeah.

okay yeah embarrassing dean, you know it's bad when i tear off my headphones and yell stop at the computer :p deep breaths. i can do this.

DEAN What’s it like, settling down with a hunter? CESAR Smelly, dirty. Twice the worrying about getting ganked.

sort of saved it but jackles still played it awkward, made the weird face saying that line. sometimes he's completely smooth about accepting the info that someone is queer, and other times he does this. or worse yet, this thing with the cupid match being two guys where they focus on him being stunned for *10 seconds*. mild disgruntlement.

also maybe part of the point is he's asking what it's like being settled down with a hunter, when he's already settled down with a hunter. aside from fucking sam, i'm not sure how much more "settled" he can be. not to mention twice the worry about getting ganked, he just briefly killed himself in 11x17 trying to get sam back from being actually-not-dead.

anyway. cesar has a lovely voice and accent (and i appreciate the pronunciation of his name not being anglicized)

CESAR Yeah, it’ll eat him alive if we don’t. DEAN It’s hard to watch someone go through that, isn’t it? CESAR Yeah, I never had a brother or a sister, but I’ve seen it over and over, when someone loses someone when they’re young. It never heals over. DEAN No, it doesn’t. CESAR And the insane thing is, how many hunters have you seen over the years get their revenge? DEAN A few. CESAR Yeah. Me too. And they are never fixed, are they? DEAN No, I guess not. But, you gotta help him get that revenge anyway.

not me being reminded of how many years sam had to live without dean in the end. le sigh. but also the winchesters are constantly playing revenge whackamole

JESSE I never got over what I lost that day, the one person in the whole world I loved the most.

cut to meaningful look on sam. in case we forgot, how his brother is the person he loves most.

them going into this mine i'm like, haven't they done this before? wait didn't one of them break a leg in a mine?? or wait was that a fic i read :P

well, jesse finding the remains of his brother and the coin got me to cry a bit, good job guys. which also set the emotional tone for me to get even more weepy over the next conversation

SAM You know, whenever you and Dad used to leave me to go hunting, and I-and I wouldn’t hear from y’all for a while, I, um, I was always sure that some vamp or rugaru, or take your pick, I always figured one of them finally got ya. I tried to think what to do, you know, the next step to take. I was just lost. DEAN We came back, though, every time.

the terror and loneliness of sam being left alone as a kid alone in whatever passed as home for the moment, out of contact. guh

SAM So, uh, what’s freedom look like? JESSE Nice little spread in New Mexico. We’ve been paying on it for years. Set foot on it about … twice? CESAR Gonna raise horses. And if that goes bust, Jesse used to be an EMT. JESSE Oh, so now I’m supporting your ass? CESAR It’s time to start living.

then cut to sam and dean in the car. on their neverending hunt. are they living.

SAM Couldn’t do it, huh? DEAN No, didn’t feel right. SAM Yeah. I know what you mean. Two hunters who make it to the finish line? DEAN Yeah, you leave that alone.

we know not everyone one in this car makes it to the finish line. i mean who's to say but 42 is too soon.

*sometimes i'm just like WHY DO THEY DO THIS. early on like in playthings (mini rant and clip there) when sam was pawing at dean looking like he's one step from trying to kiss him, i got pissy because it's like why are you setting this up when it will not ever ever EVER go anywhere. but then they just kind of stuck with the theme quietly, and said the quiet part out loud in sex and violence. which just made my brain go ????

i think ultimately i like when they make grand gestures and are generally just. their canonical extra weird about each other selves, and i'll take any little moments of intimacy and vulnerability i can get. having a joke setup that points out their dynamic is more like a married couple than brothers, sometimes that can land weird for me and i feel disgruntled about them (the writers) playing along with the bit. i also don't feel great and mood is also not great so i might be a little extra cynical/negative at the moment. charlie said they fight like an old married couple but it was cute and fit the moment. and bobby did too in tall tales (which hit all my awkward humor buttons in the most unpleasant ways) and it was kind of playing into the bit of them being extra crabby at each other.

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 11x19 #nancy won

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vertical-dreams · 1 year

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5.30.23

All right. I wrote this out once and accidentally erased it. Here was the gist of it, for more or less.

wow, here we are

back on my bullsh*t

I don’t think I would have imagined myself right here right now.

But that’s okay.

I don’t know why I had a crush on the guy that I did (I didn’t even know him) but then again, we didn’t stray too far from the past.

I saw that guy the day before yesterday, and btw best friend, you absolutely could have. Please stop undervaluing yourself. Recognize your worth. Maybe, just maybe, go for it? (in the future, not that context! because honestly...)

So, dear friend. You’ve had a crush for about two years now on a man (... on the idea of a man. This is important.) you met twice in the late summer of 2020. It feels silly, I hope it hasn’t been a waste of time. But I guess nothing is a waste of time, it’s just shaping you into who you are (so use it wisely--or not; maybe just have fun with it). I saw him 3 days ago, on a Saturday. It was exciting. It was different than I imagined it would be. I have spent so long trying to remember what he sounded like, how tall he stood, how he acted, and when the moment came I was so overwhelmed that I didn’t notice much of it at all. He sounded more confident than when we last met, which I think was more intimidating. He said the word “porch” so oddly, in a downeastern accent (he is not from downeast). He lives in the neighboring town now, about 12 minutes away. I waved at him when he walked in the room, he waved back. My wave was eager and fast, his was slow, hesitant, awkward, in conjunction with a surprised yet mild “he-ey.” He knelt down beside his grandfather to speak to him, on one knee rather than the two I had been on in the same exact spot shortly before his arrival. I helped him move an exercise bike (well, he was helping me to move it/doing it all by himself). I got it stuck on the door and mumbled “sorry” and he said “it’s all right” or something to that effect. It was kind of awkward, and kind of sweet. I feel so far behind him. I feel like I’ve missed out on a chance for a sweet, awkward, naïve love. He turned on a light for me in a dark corner, mumbling something about “let me get that for ya.” And, as I so often do, I shied away, avoiding eye contact, not saying the thank you I had meant to. I don’t understand why I do that.

*edit: I saw him, once, twice, since then. Maybe the last I ever will. :-/ Once, in early July, on a Monday afternoon at the local grocery store (I think. Judging by the beans sticker, which was alongside a darth vader sticker and another odd symbol I could not place with multiple lines that created a triangle shape). He was carrying a brown bag out to his silver canyon. The most recent, on the fourth of August, at his grandfather’s service. I released soooo many fluids from my face holeeessss. Was in desperate need of a tissue. Could not obtain. Anywho, he had the bottom half of his head shaved. Inch-resting choice, he seemed sweet like before. I took peeks at him, seeing him wipe is eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose from above his glasses. He was wearing a blue shirt and bean boots (??? in the middle of summer). I overheard bits and pieces of his conversation with a cousin (not intentionally! I think) about his work schedule affecting throwing his sleeping schedule out of whack and about his roommate letting him... ??? maybe play in his band I couldn’t hear (not that I was trying, obviously! :-) .) He walked up beside me later on to join his sisters and my family. I smiled and he smiled back. He thanked my grandfather for being such a good friend to “Grampy,” to which my Grampy responded with a light chuckle and “my pleasure”. My grandfather mentioned the cat and our dogs being put down, and he said something to the effect of “I’m sorry” and “what happened? why did you have to put them down?” I kinda zoned out but also zoned in. idk! Before that I had also said a comment about “If you move into [his grandfather’s] house (which was supposed to be a thing!), I hope you like cats.” with a smile and he smiled and said he does. and then something about how he thought all of his grandparents cats just seemed to stumble on into that house. I smiled and the subject moved on to Buddy, but that was all that I had said. except for something about my grandfather eating too much corn, that it couldn’t be healthy for a human (but I wasn’t the one who brought that up!). He picked up flowers from the grave and brought them back to his truck (?) to go to the house. I would like greatly to see him again, many times again. Lord, may I have that chance. *

*edit no. 2* coming in hot on december 12, 2023 baby! ok so. feels weird writing this but hey it’s not like i have a ton of friends to tell so i will tell it to my empty blog instead. that was not him at the grocery store, my man drives a chevy (just a boy in a chevy truck, had a tendency of getting stuck on back roads at night) ok ok i am here. i guess a lot of guys just look like that (good for me, hello options)! sooooo i embarrassingly told his FATHER that i wanted to be his FRIEND in september and asked about him moving in. I talked about a lot of stuff, practically pulled a punisher on the guy (according to ms brittany broski--like when you corner someone at a party talking about something). so that was mighty embarrassing and I shudder at the thought that THAT is how that man will remember me by (because I might not see him again! life is strange) (but also he is just a man. so is his son. everyone is just some guy. huh). anywhooooo, i was proud of myself for doing ~something~ even if that thing was. hey. so embarrassing. that guy did move in next door btw, in like early november. annnnnnnnnd on Friday the 8th? of December, you did go talk to him. On thursday the 7th, however, you made cookies, checked to see that he was there, hyped yourself up for like 10 minutes, and went over and he was GONE but fear not, your footprints around the house stayed ❤️ but on friday you went over and knocked 4 times and said hi (hi) and asked if this was a bad time (no) and are you sure and can i *points in house* (yeah) and the house was messy and that kind of make me feel better and this man was in a gray ROBE over like some PJs and he had shaved MORE of his head so he just has like. a short little ponytail in the middle of his head? told him i had a few questions mostly about the cat -- do you know where he went to the vet? i think he said he needed shots this month but don’t know where or which ones. (no i don’t know) also do you still have the cat carrier (yes, right here and this is how it works and this one is broken but it still works etc. etc.) do you mind if i take it (no) and about the vet thing, i wasn’t sure if there was an appt set up for this month (let me check, can’t find anything) sorry for just barging in and if you find out can i just give you my number so you can text me and i don’t have to barge in again (sure, i know i have paper, here’s paper, and let me get) oh from his cup of pens (yeah haha oeeeee *bc he dropped something and squee’d*) here annnd this one is embarrassing but i’ll regret if i don’t ask... do you or your dad or your uncle have the bean soup recipe (no, that was one thing that i forgot to ask him before he left, idk i can ask uncle eddie on fb. i think it’s pretty simple) yeah but idk what the base is (i know it’s a matter of soaking the beans overnight and i think he was planning on making it again bc he had this *got into freezer and pulled out* salt pork) oh that might have been me because i was talking to him about it, but i wouldn’t have known that was in there. (yeah and there’s ham, my dad doesn’t like this so he added ham to it, too)

actually what am i doing right now i am so smart and accomplished and funny and beautiful and i am writing a blog post? all forlorn like? ridiculous. kinda sweet. but still!! anyway might as well finish because here we are

yadda yadda do you like pumpkin? (my voice was like at a whisper here, couldn’t help it, it was quivering when i was trying to talk louder) and he leans his head down, eyes up at me and says in a whisper to match mine “yes, i love pumpkin” and so i asked ‘do you want these? they are pumpkin chocolate chip’ and he said ‘yes, i would’ or something like that. then i said also another thing is you might be fine here but if you ever want to hang out sometime i am like. 30 feet that way. and i am in need of friends who still live in the state. (btw you know what response i got to that? not a ‘yeah, for sure, sounds good, etc. i got a “yeah, it’s nice to have friends so close” ... damn okay? wtf did i do to hurt you?? like seems like he might as well have said no. maybe he is just as painfully awkward as i am. or maybe i am just naïve. anyway i am like ‘okay i think that’s it’ and grab the cat carrier and head out the door. and while i’m stepping over the threshold he goes ‘oh hey, nice boots’ and i go ‘thanks! the color surprised your grandpa, he said i thought they only made those in brown, and i was like ... surprise’ (i think it was something to that effect idk) and he goes ‘yeah they make them in a lot of colors. i saw a pair that had like a teal stripe and a white like base’ and i said ‘awww, cute!!’ (thinking what a weird thing to be talking about in the doorway?) and he goes ‘do you want them? they are like a 9, 9 and a half. do you think they’d fit?’ and i go ‘probably not. i got big ol’ feet cuz i’m a big ol’ girl’ (hey love. checking in. why did you say that? whatever, it was kinda cute in a very you way) and he laughed with his nose scrunched and his head turned to the left and then i said ‘bye!’ and he said bye and that was it. and just as when i was walking in, as i was walking out the wind blew and a light dusting of snow fell from the tree near the staircase and i paused and looked up and admired it for a second as it fell on my face and all around me and then i went on my way. and he texted about the vet and i said sweet, thank you! and i have already made it embarrassingly clear twice that i want to hang out with him so i think i have done my part, and whatever happens happens. i know i will find what is meant for me.*

*edit no. who cares: 12/17/23 hey, checking in just to say that this has all been fine and lovely and whatever it has been. but you do not want to be with somebody who does not want to be with you. you do not want to be with somebody who does not want to be friends with you. (also he didn’t even say anything about the cookies 🍪 wtf! girl you put in werk. and they were yummy!) if he is not interested in being your friend, you are not interested in being his lover. your sweet, beautiful soulmate is out there. maybe it will take some trial and error to find them. that is perfectly okay. but they will know enough kindness to befriend you, and you should not have to worry about seeming desperate or lame, because you are so many beautiful, lovely things and *I* love you for all of those things, little dove. someone else will too and they will make that clear. it will all be okay, my love.*

Maybe one day I will have that love. For now, my own will do just fine.

You are so kind, smart, beautiful, funny, and loving, you sweet, sweet girl.

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theteasetwrites · 3 years

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The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 17: Close Quarters

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 3 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—grinding, missionary, mild swearing ❧ Word Count: 4.1k

❧ In This Chapter: You and Daryl make yourselves at home in the prison by sharing in some much needed physical intimacy, but not without a few other people in your group taking notice.

❧ A/N: Second smutty chapter! Still new to the world of smut so go easy on me lol

“How is he?” you asked Maggie quietly as she closed the cell Hershel was resting in after his accident.

“He’s doing good, he’s just sleeping now.”

“Good,” you said. “He needs the rest.”

Maggie nodded and the two of your shared a few moments of silence before she spoke. “Thank you, (Y/N). I don’t think he would’ve made it if you hadn’t helped show the bleeding and take out those walkers back at the cafeteria.”

You smiled sheepishly, looking down at your feet. “No need to thank me, we’re a family. We look out for each other, right?”

Maggie smiled back at you, her face illuminated by the lanterns you helped set up around the cell block. “Right.”

The two of you ended up sitting on the stairs talking as you waited for Daryl’s shift to end. As usually happened when you talked too much, you ended up over-sharing.

“I can’t believe you guys still have one condom left,” Maggie laughed. “Glenn and I used all of ours before we even left the farm.”

“Well, I guess things just got a little hectic. Daryl got injured, then the whole Randall thing… God, it seems like ages ago now. Can you believe it’s not even been one year?”

“Time’s not the same anymore,” Maggie agreed. “Funny how a few days can feel like a whole week now.”

You nodded your head sadly. “Sometimes I still think things can be like they were. Someday maybe the days will go by slower, less will happen and we won’t have to keep running. We could just sit around, like right now.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” Maggie sighed, “you really are the last great innocent.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you looked down at your feet. “Not innocent so much as naïve.”

“Nah, you’re not naïve. I’ve known naïve people—they don’t know the world, don’t understand it. You do, so much that you want to believe there’s more than just all this.” She gestured to the air around her. “You’re innocent, and you’re way too good for this world. That’s why it needs you.”

The two of you kept talking for a while, eventually deciding it was time to turn in and returning to each of your cells.

You lit up the lantern you kept on the bedside table, closed the curtain you strung up for privacy, and removed your bra and jeans to get more comfortable before Daryl came back.

You snuggled up in bed, and you were just about to doze off when you heard the clanking of the cell door opening and a familiar grunt. Daryl immediately took off his boots, then his poncho… then his leather vest… then his button-up shirt… then his black jeans… until he was just in his underwear.

“Someone’s eager,” you said, sitting up in your bed and leaning forward to get a good look at him. “Did you really miss me that much?”

He knelt down by you and reached his hands to the hem of your shirt to begin pulling it up and over your head. Once he threw it to the side, he immediately started kneading at the soft tissue of your exposed breasts.

“More than anythin’,” he said softly, his southern accent that you found so sexy sending shivers down your spine. “Missed these, too.” He pinched a little at your sensitive nipples, earning a surprised whimper from you. You let out a soft giggle as he moved his lips to your neck and began leaving little kisses all over you.

“Really?” you asked sarcastically. “Gee, I couldn’t tell by how much you stared at them for the past seven months.” You ran your fingers through his short hair.

“Can’t believe I went that long without ya,” he said. “Didn’t even have time to jerk off.”

You rolled your eyes. “Always a gentleman.”

He pulled away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “That what you want? A gentleman?” he asked.

You brought your hands down to his chest and began running your hands up and down to massage him the way he liked. “No,” you said, “I want my Daryl.” You took one hand and began tracing your index finger down his chest, over his abdomen, around his navel, and finally down to the elastic waistband of his underwear. “Lay down, cutie pie.”

He did as you said, though not without a low grumble at his pet name. You knew he’d always pretend he didn’t like it when you called him that, or any of your other sickly sweet nicknames, but you also knew he’d never seriously ask you to stop. He liked it too much.

Laying himself down, Daryl brought his hand to the back of his head and left his other to rest on his stomach. You stood up to start slowly shimmying out of your panties, the last thing you had to strip. As you did so, you watched as Daryl also removed his underwear and reached over to grab the condom from the pocket in the shirt he’d discarded.

You felt yourself immediately getting wet as you watched his well-toned muscles flex while he slipped on the condom in the dim lighting. His tanned skin was coated in a sheen of sweat from being out in the Georgia heat that didn’t let up even after the sun went down.

“You gonna get back down here or what?” he asked with a smirk as he watched your eyes scanning his naked body hungrily.

“Just admiring my big, strong, handsome man,” you cooed in the sweetest voice you could muster, knowing he would blush at your cheesy words.

He rolled his eyes. “You better get your sweet ass back on this bed, (Y/N).”

You lowered yourself down and crawled on the bed towards him until you were close enough to straddle him on his stomach. You reached your hand back to grab his half-hard cock, then leaned yourself down a bit so you could rub it against your slit as you moved your hips up and down.

“Jesus, (Y/N),” he groaned at your sudden movements. “Coulda given me a warning first.”

You giggled as he moved his hands down to firmly hold onto your waist. “Sorry, sweetie,” you whispered, rubbing your free hand up and down his broad chest as you left little trails of kisses all over. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

You kept moving against his cock while pumping it up and down, every once in a while brushing the tip against your entrance to tease him. He groaned at the feeling of just a little bit of your wetness touching his cock. Your teasing caused him to start rutting up against you, allowing his cock to harden more as it rubbed against the outside of your pussy to create the most amazing friction.

He moved his hands up to your shoulder blades and pulled you down so he could kiss you, plunging his tongue into your mouth and darting it around frantically as he felt himself becoming more and more aroused.

You angled his cock again so its tip was just at your entrance, but this time you started slowly sinking down onto it. Daryl let out an animalistic groan as he felt the warmth of your pussy engulfing him at an excruciating pace.

You removed yourself from his lips and sat up straight so you could get as much of him in you as possible. You rested your hands on his abdomen as you started moving your body up and down on his cock. He looked down and watched his shaft become more and more coated with your slick with each pass through your soaked pussy. All the while, he thrusted himself up into you to create the perfect rhythm between your bodies.

“Oh—oh Daryl!” you moaned as you felt a blissful tightening starting to form in your core. He reached his hand down to rub at your clit and get you closer to your impending orgasm. “Yes, right there.”

“Yeah, ya like that, baby girl?” He increased the pressure to your clit and started swirling his index finger around it in tight circles, causing your pussy to clench more and more around his throbbing cock.

“Yes, baby,” you sighed, closing your eyes and running your hands up and down his chest in pure bliss. “I’m so close.”

He swirled his finger faster and faster, pumping his cock into you all the while. You kept bouncing yourself up and down on top of him, giving him a front row seat to your supple breasts as they moved with your body. He moved his free hand that wasn’t on your clit up to paw at them like an animal. You whimpered in ecstasy at his rough yet loving touch that ignited you from the inside out.

That tightness in you was getting closer to finally snapping as you began to feel the first shocks of your incoming orgasm tingle through you from the center of your core. Daryl started to feel your walls squeezing him at a faster rate, almost causing him to lose his control.

“Oh, Daryl… I’m gonna come.”

He growled and responded by putting even more pressure on your engorged clit. “Yeah? You gonna come good for your big, strong man?” He playfully echoed your words from earlier.

You would’ve laughed but you were locked in concentration as you focused on getting yourself to your high. “Yes, I’m gonna… come so good for you, honey.”

“Come on, pretty girl. Come for your man.”

Your last thrust onto him and his last swirl around your clit was enough to finally send you over the edge as you felt the string in your lower belly snap and release the most beautiful ecstasy you could ever experience.

“Oh… ah! Yes! Daryl!” you moaned uncontrollably as he gently continued to thrust up into you. “It feels so good.”

Your pussy massaged his cock so effortlessly, taking in every last inch of him and beginning to milk him just a bit until he started feeling the preshocks of his orgasm.

He brought both of his hands back down to your hips as you swayed back and forth to ride out your orgasm, moaning in such indescribable pleasure all the while.

When you started to catch your breath, Daryl tightened his grip on your hips and flipped the both of you over so he was now on top of you with his cock still buried in your velvety warmth. You let out a whimper at his sudden movement, then wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him deeper into you again.

He growled before taking you in his mouth and letting his wild tongue attack your lips. You opened up for him so he could tangle his tongue with yours in a passionate dance. You brought your hands up to his head and began massaging his hair, pulling at it a little whenever he bit your lip.

He began thrusting into you wildly at a much faster pace than before as he attempted to achieve his own high after giving you yours. He still kept rubbing at your clit in the hopes of giving you yet another encounter with bliss.

Removing his lips from yours, he buried his head in the crook of your shoulder when he started feeling his cock twitching in anticipation of his orgasm.

“God, (Y/N),” he moaned roughly. “I love this pussy so much… so good.”

“Oh… baby.”

Your legs tightened around him as you felt another shockwave pulsing through you with every thrust he gave you. You wrapped your arms around his back and clung to him as hard as you could while you bucked up into him uncontrollably. You let out a series of deep moans intertwined with his name and declarations of your love for him as he drew out your pleasure.

“Such a good girl. Love it when ya come for me.”

You grabbed his ass and pushed him deeper into you while he thrusted wildly, just seconds away from letting loose inside you.

“I’m gonna come now, baby girl,” he growled in your ear.

The intense pulsing of your pussy from your second orgasm sent him into overdrive and resulted in a series of intense shocks coursing through his shaft and culminating in his engorged tip from which the product of his arousal expelled into the latex engulfing his sensitive skin. He growled like a wild animal and flexed his ass to push deeper into you and feel your tightness around every inch of him.

“Ah! (Y/N),” he groaned hoarsely. “My sweet, sexy girl…”

He pressed sweet kisses all over your face and neck as he came back down from his incredible high. It seemed like it would never end, but his stream of white hot liquid eventually stopped and left him a panting, whimpering mess above you.

“Man,” he huffed, his entire body limp on top of you as you continued to caress his back, lightly tracing over the raised skin of his jagged scars. “I never wanna go that long without ya again.” He left a string of kisses on your shoulders and neck, sucking a bit to leave a few love bites that would be visible by morning.

You giggled at the feeling of his short, sparse beard and stubble scratching and tickling your soft skin. “Me neither,” you panted, still out of breath from all that exercise. “If we stay here a while, we won’t have to go so long again.”

He smiled sweetly and kissed your lips before lifting himself off of you and laying down beside you. He patted his chest to invite you to rest your head on him, which you gladly accepted. You could hear the beating of his heart as the rise and fall of his chest became more steady. Resting your hand on the other side of his chest, you began playing with his wiry chest hairs. He didn’t have that many, but you loved the feeling of them as they curled around your finger.

“All the more reason to keep this place safe,” he added, combing his hand through your hair, his other hand resting on your hip. “Wasn’t jumpin’ for joy to live in a prison, but it beats goin’ house to house like we were.”

“A roof is a roof, right?” You echoed his words from a time that seemed ages ago.

Daryl let out a small chuckle and nodded. “A roof is a roof. And even a prison cell ain’t so bad so long as you’re in it.”

You blushed and snuggled closer into his body. “Maybe someday we’ll have our own room, a real one,” you said, your eyes wandering to the ceiling as you imagined it. “With a door, and a real bed. In a house. Just you and me, maybe a dog… or a cat… or both.” Daryl looked at you in wonderment.

“You got quite an imagination, crazy woman.”

You rolled your eyes. “It could happen, you know. Not now, but someday. People bounce back from things, right?” Daryl looked at you and allowed himself to think about what you were saying. “Back at the CDC, when Jenner said this was our extinction event—I think he was wrong. We can come back from this, I know it. It’ll never be like it was, but it can be good, maybe even better than the way things used to be.”

You moved your gaze from the ceiling back to Daryl. “What do you think?” you asked.

He didn’t know what to think. Most of the time he didn’t even think about things like that because he still wasn’t used to anyone caring what he thought.

He thought you were crazy, but a good kind of crazy. The kind of crazy that allows a painter to create a masterpiece, or an astronaut to fly into outer space. Your dream wasn’t impossible, but it was a one in a million kind of thing. You didn’t have to be a special kind of person to dream up a thing like that, but you would have to be a special kind of person to believe in it.

So that’s what he thought, but he was never good at converting complex thoughts into words. He wasn’t an idiot, he could think coherently and process abstract ideas, but verbalizing them was another story. It was one of the many things about you he was so impressed by, your ability to turn thoughts into words.

“I think you’ve got a good dream, and I’m gonna help ya get as close to it as you can if it kills me.”

You beamed up at him and leaned up a little to kiss his cheek. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known.”

Daryl scoffed. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.” You brushed his hair back behind his ear. “I love you.”

He brought your head to his lips and left a small kiss on your hairline. “I love you, too. You’re the best woman I’ve ever known.”

You giggled a little before you felt a wetness welling up in your eyes. You wiped away the few little tears that began to seep past your lower eyelid. Daryl furrowed his brows in confusion. “You cryin’?”

You smiled up at him. “Just a little. It’s a happy cry. You just make me so damn happy, Daryl. It’s ridiculous how happy you make me.”

He delicately swiped another tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Don’ like seein’ ya cry, angel. Even if it’s a happy cry—too close to the real thing.”

You shook your head and sniffled as you composed yourself. “Okay, no more crying, see? No tears here.”

“Good.” He sat up a bit to pull the sheet over the both of you. It was going to be a warm night so you wouldn’t need much else. “Let’s get some shut-eye. Got a big day tomorrow, gonna clean up those bodies and start makin’ this place a real home, least that’s what Rick says.”

He leaned over to turn off the lantern, then pulled you into his chest so your face was snuggled into his shoulder just how you liked. Usually you’d wake up with him spooning you, but you loved to fall asleep to the steady beating of his heart.

“We’ll make it a real home, all of us,” you whispered into his chest as he left a kiss on your hair.

That morning, you woke up in a messy tangle of limbs and thin cotton sheets. You were surprised Daryl slept in with you since he usually got up before everybody else to go hunt or do whatever it was he did when no one else was awake. Nevertheless, you were happy to feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back.

As you adjusted your eyes to the bright, waking world, you turned your head to see if Daryl was awake. If his soft snores were anything to go by, he was still in a deep sleep.

He must be really tired, poor thing.

He didn’t get a chance to even lay down the first night you cleared the prison, so last night was the first real sleep he’d been able to get in a while.

You sat up as quietly as possible to not wake him since he was a light sleeper. Even so, he didn’t budge.

He must be really, really tired.

Sitting up, you took the opportunity to leave a small kiss on his cheek. He murmured softly and twitched a little at your touch, making you have to suppress your giggle as much as possible so as not to wake him. He was always so cute when he slept.

You took your time getting dressed, paying mind to your shoulder which was still healing. It only seemed to hurt when you moved your arm in certain ways, so you were grateful for that.

Once you were dressed, you made your way to the common area where the food was stored. Since it appeared that you were the first one up, you thought it would be nice to cook breakfast for everyone.

Daryl, T-Dog, and Rick had managed to negotiate a trade with the five prisoners—half of their food for their help in clearing another cell block for them to stay in. In the end, there were only two prisoners left, Axel and Oscar, and they agreed to keep their distance from your group which relieved you and Daryl both. Plus, your group got a whole lot of oatmeal out of it.

So that’s what you made, a whole lot of oatmeal. Luckily, there were also plenty of raisins and brown sugar for toppings. Daryl rigged up a small cooking area in your cell block with things he’d found in the cafeteria so no one would have to go out too far. It was nice, it almost reminded you of your tiny kitchen back in your apartment in Athens.

“Good morning,” Carol said in a sing-song voice as she peered over your shoulder to see what you were cooking. “Yummy,” she said, possibly sarcastically—you could never tell.

“Wish I could make some eggs,” you said. “Maybe we can catch some wild chickens? Have a little coop… that’d be something.”

“Yes it would,” Carol agreed. “But for now I’ll take stale oatmeal.” She filled herself a bowl then sat down at the round table in the center of the room. You served yourself and joined shortly after covering the pot so it kept warm for the others when they woke up.

“So, where’s Daryl?” Carol asked, her lips quirked a bit as if she knew something you didn’t.

“He’s still sleeping like a baby. He’s exhausted.” You blew on your spoonful of hot oatmeal before taking a bite.

“Ah, you wore him out last night, didn’t you?”

You choked a bit on your oatmeal. “What?” you asked incredulously.

Carol just laughed at you. “Close quarters, (Y/N),” was all she said.

“You um… you heard us?” you leaned forward and practically whispered.

Carol nodded her head, trying to hold back a laugh as she did. You were absolutely mortified. Your hands covered your face with both hands and let out a loud sigh. “Oh, no.”

Carol leaned over and patted your elbow. “It’s okay, sweetie. Not like we haven’t heard it before.”

You looked back up at her with widened eyes. “We? Did everyone hear?”

“Everyone except Maggie and Glenn, they were in the guard tower all night again.”

You sighed. “Guess we should find a place like that too. God, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” Carol said. “It’s no big deal. Besides, I’m happy for you two. We all are.”

After the two of you ate, more of your group came trickling in. Some of them exchanged a few curious smiles with you, but they didn’t mention the sex noises, for which you were thankful.

Daryl was still in your cell so you decided to bring him up a bowl of oatmeal (with a few extra packets of brown sugar—you liked to spoil him in the little ways you could).

Setting the bowl on the nightstand, you watched as he squirmed a little underneath the sheet, his hair getting progressively messier as he rolled around on his pillow. You laughed so much you couldn’t help but snort.

“What’re you laughin’ at, woman?” he grumbled as he opened his groggy eyes.

You covered your mouth to hide your smile. “Nothing,” you said in a faux innocent tone. “I brought you some breakfast.”

He slowly propped himself up on his arms to look at his bowl of oatmeal you made for him. He grabbed it eagerly and began spooning the oats into his mouth voraciously, grunting in satisfaction all the while. “Thanks,” he mumbled in between bites. “Don’ think I’ve ever slept in that long.”

“You must’ve needed it, then.” You bent over to smooth his hair a bit and kiss his forehead.

Your words brought what Carol had said to mind. Your face reddened in embarrassment for a moment, and you thought maybe you should tell Daryl so he’d know to be quieter next time, but you knew he’d probably be even more embarrassed than you were considering how much he tried to avoid public displays of affection. Instead, you opted to tell him something else.

“I’ve got good news, honey.”

He looked up at you mid spoonful of oatmeal, his face intrigued and skeptical at the same time. After all, good news was in short supply these days. “What?”

“You passed your physical.”

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

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#daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead #twd fanfic #twd #the beginning series

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yelenabelovasbxtch · 2 years

Text

Bar Fight

#35 with Yelena requested by @sophie-sxox

#35: “I wouldn’t want to fight you, you’re pretty feisty.”

Word count: 1279

Mostly fluff, little bit of making out and flirting.

Tag List: @flosbelova @bridgecitybrad @justthis-stuff @chloe7076 @ailenepuff @wandanatvoid @3xbyrn320 @ravenclawbitch426 @mellowladyangel

Concept: You go to a bar and some rando is hitting on you. Yelena comes to your rescue.

“Hi there, what can I get for you?”

You look up and see a man put a coaster down in front of you.

“Vodka on ice.” You say with a slight smile that definitely looked forced.

“Coming right up.”

The nice man serves you your drink and as you’re about to take a sip someone bumps into you from behind.

“Oh shit- sorry about that.” He says.

The two of you lock eyes and you can tell he’s about to say something he probably shouldn’t.

“Oh…maybe I’m not sorry about that. Man am I glad I bumped into you. Nice to meet you, I’m Sam.”

“Hi Sam.” You say with an overly cartoonish smile as you turn and look away.

“So…do I get to know your name?” He says putting his hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N. and sorry Sam I’m not really interested in this.”

“Cmon, let me try to change your mind.”

“No seriously, you’re not my type anyways.”

“What? I'm everybody's type. What’s your type?” He asks in a very cocky way.

“Not male.”

Sam scoffs “y/n, give me a chance and I can definitely change your mind.”

That was it. That puts you over the edge you whip around in your chair about to give him a piece of your mind when someone steps in and starts talking to you.

“Hey! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Ready to get out of here?” She says while looking at you with wide eyes as her back faces him.

“Oh- uh hey yeah, let’s go.” You reply.

“Bye Sam” the mysterious blonde says with a sarcastic smile as she grabs your hand and pulls you outside of the club doors.

“Wow. Thank you for having my back in there…”

“Yelena.” She says with an adorable smile.

“Ah, well thank you Yelena. That was definitely not about to end pretty for that guy.”

“Oh yeah?” She says trying to hold back a slight giggle.

“I was very much so ready to give him a piece of my mind.” You say while putting up two fists in a playful manner.

“I see,” she says with a laugh “it’s a good thing I interfered then, I wouldn’t want to fight you, you’re pretty feisty.”

The two of you laugh and Yelena invites you back to her place for drinks.

“Oh wow…you have a really nice apartment.” You say, with mild concern as you see the assortment of weapons on her wall.

Yelena obviously notices you looking at the swords she has. “Oh I just collect those sorts of things. I find it fascinating how people can create these weapons that can do such horrible things but in their own way, they’re works of art.” She says. “Besides they also look dope on my wall.”

“That they do. I guess I don’t need to worry about you killing me and hiding my body then?” You say.

Yelena just chuckles. “You’re funny and pretty? No wonder that guy was all over you at the bar.”

“Oh so you think I’m pretty?”

You can see her smile as she pours the drinks in the kitchen.

“Can I ask why you weren’t into him? He wasn’t too bad on the eyes.” She says in her thick Russian accent.

“Not really my type. For starters, I prefer women. Plus he was a dick anyways.”

“Women? Your type doesn’t happen to be short blondes with thick accents who are insanely cool and collect weapons, is it?” She asks as she is staring into your eyes.

Your pupils are dilating and you let out a gulp swallowing your saliva. “Maybe.” You reply with your focus staying on Yelena.

Yelena chuckles and takes a sip of her drink. She puts on the tv and the two of you relax, drink, snack and watch some movies. Over time, you got pretty sleepy and naturally started leaning more towards Yelena. You could tell a similar thing was happening to her. Your head naturally falls onto her shoulder and you close your eyes. A loud bang comes from the TV as you wake up to an action scene in the movie that was playing. You were feeling pretty disoriented and you looked at Yelena to see her smiling at you.

“Y’know, you’re adorable when you sleep. You make these cute little snoring noises.” She says.

You quickly sat up when you realized that your head was resting on her shoulder.

“No- no it’s okay. I don’t mind you leaning on me one bit. It’s very comforting. Here here,” she says as she gently grabs you and pulls you towards her. Your head goes down to rest in her lap as your legs come up to lay on the other side of the couch.

You can feel Yelena running her fingers through your hair. You have never felt so comfortable with somebody you just met but something about this seemed so right.

You turn on your back so you can look up at her.

“What’s up, sleepy head?” She says in an adorably tired voice.

“Nothin’.” You respond with a smile.

“Nothing eh? Then why are you looking at me like this? Close your eyes and get some rest.”

“Sorry I just can’t help it. You’re so beautiful it’s like I can’t look away.”

Yelena just laughs and looks up to watch the tv.

You sit up and cup your one hand on the other side of her face and gently push it so she is looking at you. Her eyes are beautiful and her hair is amazing. You can’t help but feel yourself already falling in love with her. She looks you in the eyes and then down to your lips and quickly back up to your eyes. Next thing you know, she’s pushing her lips up against yours. She wraps her arm around your waist and quickly swings you over onto her lap. The two of you continue to passionately kiss as she holds you by your waist while you’re lightly grinding against her.

You briefly pull away and look at her “I know we only just met but this has been one of the best nights of my life.” You say.

“Me too” she says with a warm smile.

Yelena pulls you back in for another kiss and this time when she pulled away she wrapped her arms around you and squeezed tightly as you hugged her back. You felt unbelievably comfortable with her, like you could spend the rest of your days with her.

“Would you want to come to my bedroom? I know you were tired and hey I promise no funny business on the first date.” She says with a laugh.

The two of you are laughing and you can’t help but want Yelena more. “Sure, let's go to your room.” You say as you stand up.

“You say no funny business but are cuddles off the table?”

“As long as I get to be the little spoon.” She replies with a chuckle.

The two of you lay down and she falls asleep in your arms.

— The End —

#cooking with flo #florence pugh #florence pugh fanfic #florence pugh smut #florence pugh x reader #yelena belova #yelena belova fanfiction #black widow #mcu #marvel #yelena belova one shot #yelena one shot #yelena x reader #yelena belova smut

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maeve-writes · 3 years

Text

Heroes

Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.

Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes.

a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?

You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.

It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers.

Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.

Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.

“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.

You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.

Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.

“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.

His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.

You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm.

While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.

The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.

Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.

When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.

“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.

“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory.

Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone.

The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.”

Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”

It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”

Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue.

The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside.

Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed.

Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged.

Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild.

“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves.

You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests.

Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.

You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.

Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”

“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement.

“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.

“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously.

“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”

“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.

You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.

“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.

He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him.

The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress.

“One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.

To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.

Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights.

Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention.

His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go.

But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold.

During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.

Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.

Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.

“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”

“Wait,” the one named “Buck” jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”

“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.

a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!

#bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x you x steve rogers #bucky barnes x y/n x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x you x bucky barnes #steve rogers x y/n x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #stripper!bucky barnes #stripper!steve rogers #stripper!au #heroes au

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storiesbyjes2g · 2 years

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I had a dream about Hunter. We played together like we used to and went for long walks, but he followed me everywhere. I found him at work, the maker's space, and everywhere I took my children. He never engaged and remained in the periphery. He even kept watch even as I slept like a guardian angel. I guess I just miss him a lot. Shiloh too. I think it's definitely time for another dog. Because the children may live here soon, I'll get them involved in the decision-making process.

After work that night, I met my kids at the same restaurant from our first weekend together. I think this Friday night dine-out thing is quickly becoming a habit. I don't mind, and the kids' certainly do not.

Luca was texting furiously when I arrived. Heh, I remember those days when my friends and online presence were my entire world. When my parents got married, Mommy offered me an opportunity to change my last name to Crenshaw. But I was already @kiki_p everywhere. Some kids at school even called me that. I could have easily changed to @kiki_c, but the thought of changing my identity was devastating despite how much I loved my daddy and wanted to have his last name. It's crazy what's important to us at that age.

We walked into the restaurant and waited for the host to finish making reservations for someone on the phone before requesting a table. He was incredibly handsome. Like, he had no business being that old and that fine. I'd always heard people talking about silver foxes but had never met an elderly man I found extremely attractive until now. He had such a pleasant face and looked like a genuinely nice guy. I imagined he'd never cheated on a test in school, helped old ladies cross the street, and all that stuff from the movies. Hopefully, he has a bunch of grandchildren running around because the world needs more of his genes.

When he greeted us, I heard a familiar accent and asked if he was from Sulani, and he said yes. We spoke briefly about our histories, and it turns out he knew my mother. Of course he did. Mommy knew everyone on those islands. Talking with him, I was a bit more smiley and giggly than I wanted to be, and I felt super silly when I saw my kids making eyes at each other. I hope they don't think I want to date him or anything. I was just caught completely off guard! To make matters worse, he told me his name was Duane. That was enough to wipe that silly grin off my face. I swear the universe is dead set on me figuring out my feelings. Whoever you are up there pulling the strings, I'm doing it! Geez! I don't need to be reminded every other day!

"We are very busy tonight," he said. "I hope outside is ok."

He seated us near the table we sat at the first time we were here. Hopefully, the weather holds up because it had been overcast all day. Thankfully, the weather in Willow Creek is still pretty mild late fall, so it wasn't too chilly.

As soon as Duane disappeared into the restaurant, my children wasted no time hammering me with questions. I honestly didn't think they would. I figured they'd let it go and talk about it between themselves later. It's weird. I mean, I didn't mind them asking, and I'll never lie to them. I just never imagine I would discuss my feelings for another man with my children. Like, I know I'm divorced, and I've gotten used to my new normal, but now and then something happens that kinda slaps me in the face and reminds me the life I'm living is completely opposite of what I wanted for us.

"You like that guy, Mama?" Luca asked.

"Right? She was totally cheesing," Alessia said.

How embarrassing!! "Guys, chill. I just thought he was handsome. You can appreciate someone's good looks without liking them, you know."

This conversation highlighted so many things, and dread washed over me. One day, we'll have to talk about woohoo and other things they should know. I... I can't. I don't know how I would even begin a conversation like that. Maybe Ali will talk to Luca. I hope Alessia can be patient with me.

"Did you and daddy talk about us living with you yet?" she asked.

Luca chimed in. "Yeah, what did he say?"

"Uhh...no. Not yet. But I promise we'll talk soon."

"When?? It's soooooo boring over there!"

Suddenly, some things became clear. I thought she lived on the monkey bars because she had so much energy and needed to expend it. But maybe she spent so much time climbing because that was literally all there was to do at Ali's house. She might not even have an interest in sports, but I'm not gonna give up on that yet.

"I know, baby. Trust me, I want you to live with me. I've always wanted that. But this is a sensitive matter, and we can't rush it. Your dad and I both love you so much, and we each want you to live with us. It's not as simple as you think."

I knew they would have 1000 more questions, but this wasn't a conversation I wanted to have in public. Luckily for me, the food came...and the rain.

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #Emerald Pope #Luca Winston Murillo #Alessia Amina Murillo #adolting gen 2 #how dare she talk to me like that!

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weasleyswizardpleases · 3 years

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Low Profile (reader x fred and george)

Summary: You and your best friends find yourself entangled in a secret polyamorous love affair, right under their family’s noses.

Warnings/Notes: Cw language, kissing (but no sex of any kind), family not accepting poly/queer relationship, bruising. This is for the wonderful and talented @lunalovecroft’s 2.7k trope-inspired writing challenge! It’s also part of my loose series of fics that take place over the summer when y/n stays at the Weasleys’ house. No twincest- v shaped poly relationship. Here’s my masterlist if you want more! Enjoy!

Ever since you and Fred hooked up the first night of the summer, you’ve been joined at the hip even more than usual, and since George is always with Fred and usually with you, he had to be told once it was clear that you and Fred were gonna be more than a one night stand. You were a bit sad, knowing that it’d probably make him feel left out, in a way. You noticed that George looked a bit miffed when the two of you told him you were dating, in the loosest sense of the word.

“What’s the matter, you jealous Georgie?” you tease, putting your hand on his knee flamboyantly. He blushes and you and Fred exchange a look.

“Oh my god, you actually are, aren’t you?” Fred asks, half-mocking. For once, George seems to be at a loss for words. He looks quite uncertain and a bit sad. You figure that you may as well break the tension and speak honestly; it’s more important to you to be frank and maintain your friendship than anything else. You clear your throat.

“George, honestly, if you’d been there instead of Fred that night, I’d probably have hooked up with you, too. We’ll all still be friends. That’s why we’re telling you, so we’re not keeping secrets,” you say, trying to goad him into speaking. He shakes his discomfort off and begins.

“Oh, I knew this would happen! We used to just be friends before the two of you started making eyes at each other all the time. Now I’ll barely be able to talk to the two of you- my two best friends, mind you- without all this lovey dovey shit. What an absolute nightmare!”

You open your mouth to speak, but George barrels on, looking at Fred this time.

“And you, some brother you are. You know how I feel about Y/N, I thought we had an agreement to keep it platonic all around?”

“It’s not my fault they’re interested in me!”

“George, I said I would have kissed you that night too! Actually, that’s what I’ve been trying to say to both of you. I’ve got feelings for you, both of you.”

They stop bickering and turn to look at you, turning the idea over in their minds.

“What are you saying?” asks Fred, looking a bit hurt.

“I’m saying,” you take a deep breath, “that I’ve never been better friends with one of you than the other. We do everything together. I don’t want that to change. Besides, you two are identical. Did you think your birthmark was that big of a selling point, Freddie? Of course I think you’re both good-looking, look in the mirror for goodness’ sake!”

They blink at you, then turn away to confer with one another in whispers. You tap your foot impatiently, but when they turn around, they’re beaming.

“So what you’re saying is you’d be fine with us sharing you?” George asks.

“More than fine. I’d be absolutely chuffed,” you say, returning their smiles.

“It’s settled, then,” Fred says, and plants a kiss on the top of your head. You look up at George permissively, and he puts his arm around you and gives you a squeeze.

“One thing, though. Mum and Dad can’t know. Mum especially. She’s not the most open-minded when it comes to this stuff. Especially with us. At least, I doubt she is,” Fred says.

“Yeah, funnily enough it never occurred to me to ask what she’d do if my twin brother and I started a poly fling with our best friend who also lives with us and sleeps in our bedroom, but if I had to guess, I don’t think she’d approve,” George adds, smirking.

“That’s ok. We have a pretty good track record when it comes to keeping secrets,” you say, a mischievous glimmer in your eye.

That evening, you’re helping Molly fold linens when she steps away for a moment to take the kettle off. You feel four hands slip around you from behind and soon you’re pulled into a kiss, Fred on your left, kissing you hard on the neck and collarbone, and George kissing your lips, taking your bottom lip gently between his teeth. You kiss them passionately but push them away after a second, regaining your composure.

“Not here!” you hiss, grinning. They exchange a cheeky glance and kiss you on each cheek before scurrying back to their room, giggling. You shake your head and turn back to folding sheets, just as Mrs. Weasley returns.

“My, my dear, that’s quite a bruise you’ve got there, what happened?” Mrs. Weasley clucks, gesturing to your collarbone where you’re surprised to see a dark, newly formed hickey.

“Oh, pickup quidditch match. I’m not very good, I’m afraid,” you say, the rush of the small lie filling you with butterflies.

“Well now, we are wizards after all. We can’t have you running about looking as if you’ve been sleeping under the whomping willow,” she says cheerfully. She extracts her wand and uses a quick healing spell on the spot, which fades quickly. You wonder if she really doesn’t recognize the bruise as a hickey, but you shrug. The twins have certainly gotten away with worse under this roof.

That night, you and the twins are in the kitchen having a midnight snack. The rest of the house is quiet. You’re sitting on the countertop, helping yourself to a biscuit, and George is leaning on the counter beside you. You feed him a little bite and he licks the crumbs from your fingers playfully. Fred is rummaging through the fridge across the room, and George peers into the fridge nosily. Something piques his interest, and he heads over, whispering to his brother indistinctly. You catch them giggling, and can hear snatches of their conversation. They appear to be working on something as they chat eagerly.

“Take the…”

“... and the… yes! Use a…”

“... that’s just bad…”

“...dare you…”

You hear the familiar sound of compressed air decompressing, and Fred whirls around with a pie tin full of whipped cream in his hand, grinning devilishly.

“No!” you whisper-scream, nearly falling off the countertop, but you’re not fast enough. Fred flops the tin into your face with a splat, and George laughs so hard he winds up on the ground kicking. You lick the cream from your lips, hungry for revenge.

You know Fred is secretly quite vain about his hair, and you waste no time sliding off the countertop and wrapping him up in a hug from behind. He suspects your ulterior motives immediately, but it’s too late for him to escape.

“Oh darling, give me a hug my sweet,” you say, making exaggerated kissy noises while burying your pie covered face in his nice clean hair. He flails about, and you tickle his ribs defensively, causing him to buckle. You fall to the ground with him, giggling and shoving at one another. Just as George joins in, trying to drag you off of his brother, kissing you all over as he tugs on your legs, you hear a floorboard creak.

Ginny, whose room is closest to the kitchen, stands at the foot of the stairs, gaping at you. You’re sure she saw the kissing, and, well, the whole situation does look a bit… familiar. You whack George on the head and nod in Ginny’s direction.

“Oh, hello Ginny,” Fred says, disentangling himself from his situation beneath you.

“Hello, big brother,”

“Hello, Ginny,” George says, surprise straining his voice.

“Hello, other brother,”

“Hello, Ginny,” you say uncertainly, standing up and wiping your face off with a tea towel.

“Hello, Y/N,” she says. “Some of us are trying to sleep, you know,” she says, raising an eyebrow knowingly. Everyone speaks in hushed tones once again, having remembered that it is indeed the middle of the night. She nods curtly and scampers back upstairs, smiling cheekily.

“Did she see?” George whispers.

“Oh, she saw,” you assure him.

“But she wouldn’t say anything, right?” Fred asks.

“Surely not,” his brother replies nervously.

“But if she does…”

“We’re toast. No way mum believes us over her.”

“You guys are being too paranoid. Ginny isn’t a snitch like Ron and Percy, she wouldn’t blab on us for a bit of… roughhousing,” you say hopefully. The twins agree, and you help each other get cleaned up, George dabbing your face clean with a wet towel, giving you gentle kisses in between.

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. As far as you know, Ginny doesn’t say anything about what she saw, and life in the burrow goes on as usual. In the mornings, you and Hermione read quietly in the living room over tea. She reads the paper, you look at the comics, every once in a while stopping to remark on a thought you’ve had.

Then George wakes up. He’s quiet in the mornings, a bit slow, although not very grumpy. Then Molly gets up and usually whips up some sort of breakfast, and by the times everyone’s up you all gather round the long table and eat together. Then, if you’re lucky, you run off outside or to a neighbor's house or abscond to the attic with Fred and George, away from prying eyes and away from Molly’s commands. If you’re unlucky, Molly enlists at least one of you in some chores, usually out in the garden.

The next time the three of you come close to getting caught, you’re doing just this- de-gnoming with Fred, George, and Ron when Ron gets a headache and goes inside, complaining that it’s far too hot. In reality, the day is rather mild, although the sun is bright enough that Fred and George both have pink sunburns radiating across the bridges of their noses. You flick Fred on his sunburnt cheek and he winces.

“Ow! What’s that for?!” he asks, nearly dropping a gnome right back into the grass.

“I need your attention!”

“For what?”

“A kiss,” you reply devilishly. He obliges you and kisses you dramatically, dipping you low, holding you in his arms. “Like this, mi amore?” he asks in a silly accent.

“Lunchtime!” Molly calls from the doorway, causing Fred to drop you to the ground and George to leap in front of the two of you oddly, trying to obscure his mum’s line of sight. You brush yourself off and head for the house, hoping Mrs. Weasley didn’t see anything.

“Fred Weasley!” Mrs. Weasley says shrilly, and you all cringe. You hold your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Fred, did I just see you toss Y/n to the ground? That’s no way to treat a guest, especially when you’re meant to be doing housework!” You sigh deeply, relieved. “Come in, dearie, I swear, sometimes I don’t know who raised those two!” she says, putting an arm around you to guide you in the house.

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nothoughtsonlynat · 3 years

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Resurrect Me: Part 2 (N.R.)

Part One

Huge shoutout to @confusinggemini612 who requested this a loooong time ago and I’m just now getting to it (I am so sorry for the wait). I hope this is what you had in mind :)

Warnings: swearing; PTSD; mentions of suicide/self-sacrifice

Word count: 2.6k

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

The cool breeze blows through my hair, the hand in mine being the only source of warmth in the chill of the Russian countryside. As we walk closer, a chorus of pigs snorting fills my ears. Natasha had given me a brief rundown and a quick pep talk before taking me to meet her family. Now, it was game time.

“Are you ready?”

“Not in the slightest,” I respond to the redhead.

“Let’s do it then,” she says with a smirk, to which I reply with a scoff.

We walk through the gate and enter the small house, immediately hearing three distinct voices, each laced with a thick Russian accent. The voices hush as the door closes behind us, and a blonde woman is the first to greet us.

“Ah, сестра! Mom and Dad are flirting again, let’s make a run for it,” Yelena whisper-yells.

“So put a sedative in their vodka or something, I don’t know,” Natasha replies. I’m not sure if I should introduce myself or not, so I just stand there awkwardly.

“They are both spies, they’re not going to fall for- actually, Alexei would, but Mom would never fall for that,” Yelena pauses as she notices me. She looks me from head to toe and squints before her lips quirk into a smirk. “And who might this be? Is this your little girlfriend?”

“Yelena, don’t be an ass,” Nat grumbles with a scowl.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Yelena hums before turning back to Natasha. “She’s definitely your girlfriend.”

“Oh shut up,” Natasha whines, walking further into the house. I look at Yelena and nod in confirmation before following Nat. I hear her whisper “I knew it” from behind me, causing me to laugh. Natasha turns to give me a questioning look, but I just brush it off with a shrug and a smirk. She narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off by a deep, booming voice.

“Natasha! Welcome home! Look at this, all my girls back together again! It is so nice to see you,” Alexei says, moving forward to pinch Natasha’s cheeks. She gently pushes him away with a scowl, and I can’t tell if she’s really uncomfortable or not. Either way, it brings my guard up, ready to defend her.

“And who might this be?” Alexei questions, turning to face me.

“Dad, this is Y/N,” she says before I can answer. I offer a kind smile.

Yelena, who had made her way to the kitchen table with a bottle of vodka, says “She’s Natasha’s girlfriend.”

“Thank you for the input, Yelena,” Natasha says with a tight-lipped smile.

“Girlfriend, huh? When did that happen? Natasha, I was not aware that you, uh, how do you say? Swing that way?” A dark-haired woman slaps his arm for his comment and he exclaims, “Ow!”

“Pay him no mind, Natasha. He is a bit slow, but Mama always knew. You were not very discreet about the way you looked at that Hannah girl in Ohio. And as for you, it is nice to meet you. I’m Melina, what is your name?” Her demeanor is friendly, but her gaze is skeptical. She’s probably already planning how to kill me if she decides that I’m not good enough for her daughter.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, too,” I say with a nervous smile.

“Alright, guys, that’s enough. Please stop harassing my girlfriend,” Natasha says with a sigh.

“Come, sit,” Yelena commands with a wave, still sitting at the kitchen table.

I sit across from her and Natasha sits next to me. Melina and Alexei follow soon after, with Alexei sitting at the head of the table and Melina sitting next to Yelena.

“Here you go,” Yelena says as she slides me a shot glass full of vodka. I clink it against hers in the air and down it in one go, grimacing at the burn. “Are you alright?” Yelena asks with a smirk, clearly enjoying my agony.

“Oh, yeah, I’m great. Just not used to Russian vodka, that’s all.” Yelena nods, satisfied with my answer, before going to pour me another shot.

Natasha stops her by saying, “Yelena, no more vodka. You’re going to kill her.”

“You’re no fun,” the younger sister says, but complies, nonetheless.

“Natasha, you are slouching again. Sit up straight,” Melina interjects.

“Mom, I’m not slouching. I told you I don’t slouch,” Nat protests.

“So how did you two meet?” Yelena asks, interrupting the banter.

“Oh, we met in New York during the invasion, when the Avengers were formed,” I answer.

“You are an Avenger! I knew you looked familiar. Tell me, does Captain America ever mention me, the great Red Guardian? I could kick his ass, you know. I’ve done it before,” Alexei says, causing the three Russian women to groan and complain.

“That never happened, Dad,” Yelena mumbles at the same time Natasha says, “He doesn’t talk about you because you guys have never met.”

I raise my eyebrows at them. They seem awfully familiar with this conversation; how often does Alexei say this crap?

“So, Y/N. What happened when you guys brought everyone back? How did you do it? Natasha won't tell me,” Yelena questions. I chuckle nervously, glancing at Natasha, who is clearly uncomfortable with this topic of discussion.

“Um, I don’t know if I should… It’s complicated, really,” I say, trailing off.

“Yelena, stop. It doesn’t matter. And don’t put her in the middle of things,” Natasha responds, defending me. An awkward silence fills the room until Alexei speaks up again.

“He really hasn’t mentioned me? Have you even asked him about me?”

<//>

“Why won’t you tell them what happened?” I ask quietly. It’s nighttime now, and I’m lying in bed next to Nat in the guest room. She seemed so uncomfortable, and it’s been worrying me since.

“They just don’t need to know,” she replies shortly

“But they got snapped away, Natty. Don’t you think they deserve more of an explanation than what they’ve seen on the news?”

“Don’t tell me what to do with my family, Y/N.” Her sharp tone feels like a blade to the heart, but I take a deep breath and soften my resolve, knowing that she’s only snapping at me because something else is upsetting her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push. I just, I can tell that something is upsetting you. You can’t just bottle stuff up, Nat. It doesn’t have to be me if you’re not comfortable, but you need to talk to someone about it.”

She doesn’t respond immediately. “I’ve told them. I gave them the basics: Thanos snapped people away, we time traveled, got magical stones, snapped people back, and then killed Thanos. That satisfied my parents, but Yelena wants to know the whole story.”

“And you’re not comfortable retelling it?”

“Parts of it are bearable, but… I can’t think about it. You almost killed yourself for me, Y/N. You did die for me. I can’t think about that day, let alone tell my baby sister about it,” she says. Her voice is quiet, breaking as the tears flood her eyes. I pull her head into my chest and run my fingers through her hair.

“I’m right here, Natty. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. You don’t have to tell anyone about what happened. I was terrified of losing you on Vormir. I hate talking about it, too.”

“Is that why you went to Dr. Garcia?”

“Partly. There were other reasons, too.” I hesitated before continuing. “I kept hearing the tortured screams. When I slept, in my head, everywhere I went. I heard them all the time. And I would get random whiffs of burning flesh. As you know, I went to the Underworld when I ‘died’ and I guess it just affected me more than I had originally thought.”

“Angel, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped.”

“I didn’t want to worry you, or freak you out. The whole thing was pretty weird. For a while, I honestly thought I was haunted. It was probably pretty selfish, but I didn’t wanna scare you away.”

“You could never scare me away. But just to be clear, you aren’t haunted, right?”

I laugh quietly. “No, I am not haunted. A mild case of PTSD, but I’m doing better now. The therapy helped a lot.”

“Do you think it would help me? I still get nightmares sometimes...of you going over that cliff. I just, I close my eyes and you’re gone, and I hate it.”

“I’m so sorry, my love. I hate how much pain I’ve caused you. But I do think it would help. We can find someone when we get back home, yeah?”

“Yeah. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Natty.”

<//>

“Just do it! It will be fun! I will go easy, I swear,” Yelena begs.

“Okay, fi-”

“No! No way in Hell. You are not sparring with her,” Natasha argues.

“I’ll be fine. Worst case scenario, she kicks my ass,” I say.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure the worst case scenario would be if I accidentally killed you,” Yelena says flatly. “But that won’t happen! Please, Natasha. I want to see what she’s got,” she pleads with a pout.

Natasha sighs and rolls her eyes, muttering something under her breath about us being a bunch of children. “Fine, but if you so much as scratch her-”

“Y/N will be fine. Come on,” Yelena says, grabbing my hand and dragging me into the backyard.

Thirty minutes later, I’m flat on my back in the grass, wheezing. I groan as I attempt to sit up, the whole world spinning as I do.

“Yelena! What the hell did I say?! You literally threw her,” Natasha yells.

“No, no. I’m good,” I say weakly.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting her to be so...defenseless.”

“I am not defenseless,” I counter.

“You cannot even throw a punch,” the blonde deadpans.

“That doesn’t make her defenseless,” Nat says as she helps me to my feet. “She could take every single one of you out right now without even moving.”

From a few feet away, Melina quirks an eyebrow and Alexei mumbles “she could not take me out.”

“You are delusional, Natasha. How are we supposed to trust this woman to protect you when she cannot even protect herself?”

“She can protect both of us just fine, Yelena. Not that I need anyone’s protection.”

“Your sister has a point,” Melina tells Nat. “Sorry, Y/N,” she adds. I open my mouth to speak, but don’t even know what to say. This is my worst nightmare.

“You must be able to punch when you are in trouble! Much like I did to Captain America back in the day,” Alexei adds.

“Alright, enough. I’ll have you know that Y/N is one of the most powerful Avengers. Actually, she’s a literal goddess,” Natasha snaps.

“Well, of course you would think so. You are her girlfriend,” Melina says.

“Guys, I’m being serious!”

“Do not get snappy with us. We are just looking out for you,” Alexei says.

“I don’t need-”

“Somebody has to be there to keep you safe, and this girl could not bring harm to a plant,” Melina remarks.

“I’m literally standing right here,” I mumble under my breath.

“She literally saved my life! How is that not keeping me safe?!” My eyes widen; what happened to not revealing that tidbit of information?

“What do you mean? You saved her life?” Yelena asks as she turns to address me.

“If it wasn’t for her, I would be dead right now. And you guys never would’ve come back,” Natasha retorts, clenching her jaw.

“What? Why? What happened,” Yelena rambles. I can see the worry etched on her face, and it makes her look oddly childlike. It almost makes me want to pull her into a hug, but I’m fairly certain she’d throat punch me if I tried.

“On a planet called Vormir. A life needed to be sacrificed to get one of the Infinity Stones. It was me, Clint, or Y/N. I tried, but Y/N stopped me. That’s what I mean.” Natasha is seething. She clearly didn’t appreciate her family’s doubts.

“You tried to kill yourself?” Yelena addresses Natasha, but no one has the chance to answer her before Melina speaks up.

“If you sacrificed yourself, then how are you here?”

“It’s complicated,” I say with hesitance. “I am technically a goddess. I have many different powers, but most of them deal with death. When I died, I went to the Underworld, where I met my mother, Hecate, who is a goddess. Then, I came back. Resurrection is one of my powers. I know it’s a lot to take in, but that’s the truth.”

It’s silent for a minute as everyone processes my words. Everyone is staring at me with bewilderment, except for Yelena, who hasn’t taken her eyes off of her sister. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and a deep frown rests upon her lips.

“You tried to kill yourself?” Yelena repeats, this time only a whisper. Natasha finally turns to look at her younger sister and her mouth bobs open and closed, seemingly unsure of what to say.

“I didn’t have a choice, Yelena,” Natasha finally says.

“You saved her?” the blonde asks me.

I hesitantly nod my head. “Yes, I guess I did.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, giving a curt nod before turning and walking mechanically back into the house. I awkwardly clear my throat and turn my gaze to the ground.

“Will you show us?” I raise my head to look at Alexei, confusion crossing my features at his request. “Will you show us your powers, I mean.”

“Dad…” Natasha warns.

“No, it’s okay. I can show you a little bit,” I say, right before teleporting away. I watch from a hill in the distance as Alexei looks frantically around him. I can hear him asking where I went, which makes me laugh.

I teleport into the house and walk around, looking for Yelena. I walk into a bedroom and find her sitting on the floor with a bottle of vodka. “Hey, are you okay? We didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m fine. Because learning that your sister almost died and there was nothing you could’ve done to prevent it is so much fun,” she scoffs.

“I’m sorry. We probably could’ve broken the news a bit softer.” I sit on the ground next to her, leaving about a foot of space between us.

“It’s not your fault,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“Don’t be. I am a horrible fighter,” I joke. She chuckles slightly, nodding in agreement.

“That you are. Can I see some of your magic, or whatever it is?” I hold out my hand and black mist dances above it with eerie elegance. I close my fist as it fades away, lowering my hand.

“Cool,” she says with a crooked smile. We hear the front door open and three sets of footsteps entering the house. I hear Nat calling my name.

“You okay?” I check one last time.

“I’m good. Thank you, Y/N, for saving my sister.”

“I’d do anything for her, Yelena. You don’t have to thank me for it.”

The bedroom door opens and Natasha’s head pokes in. “Y/N, we thought you’d completely left for a minute. Everything okay in here?”

Yelena and I look at each other and I look back to Natasha, overwhelmed with love for the redead. I smile and say, “Yeah, everything is just fine.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #Black Widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x reader #yelena belova

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bastillia · 3 years

Text

Loyalties Lie

AO3 Mirror

Summary: You're a bartender in a Lothal cantina, living a quiet life in the Outer Rim after the fall of the Empire. You can't help but wonder what more might be out there for you. One dangerous guest in particular keeps catching your eye. Unfortunately, you've also caught his.

Rating: E

Words: 6.1k

Warnings: possibly mild dubcon, threats with a weapon, rough sex, verbal degradation, mentions of alcohol, cumplay, Boba Fett has a 24oz monster can dick and he knows how to use it.

A/N: Remember when I said I had a Boba Fett WIP laying around like, months ago? Well guess who showed up in Mando S2 with a sexy dad bod and the fattest dick in the galaxy to overhaul my dreams and make them a reality. Fuck me. Yes this is the first thing I’ve written in months hi I’m still here. No I don’t know how many chapters this will be. I live in hell. Welcome. Thank you to @kylorengarbagedump for graciously beta reading and listening to me literally scream about this man all the time. Love y’all so much PLEASE ENJOY.

It’s the kind of night that hums.

Like a moonlit Lothal prairie, quiet and alive somewhere beyond the outskirts of town. Except that in here, the crickets swoop past your bar to buy shots, and the stars fall steadily to become the lovely tink of credits in your tip jar. The twin moons are shifting hues of neon light, and time seems to stroll by, like it has nowhere better to be.

Tonight has been steady.

It’s not busy enough tonight to challenge you, but not slow enough to let you rest. Your guard is up, as it always is when you’re behind the bar. But your hold on it can afford to be loose.

Tonight has been…

Boring.

No brawls, no assassinations, not even a drunken paw fumbling across the bar towards your tits, attached to some overly rowdy patron who you then get to watch with quiet glee as they’re dragged out by the ears. No, in fact, it’s hard to remember the last time something remotely interesting happened around here. So much for the Outer Rim’s rugged reputation. You hate to say you miss the Empire’s occupation from time to time. But at least it brought nightly intrigue.

Tonight, your guests are especially calm and happy, lulled by liquor and the easy flow of conversation, murmurs blending like a stream through the grassland. And you suppose you shouldn’t complain. You’ve more than earned your keep for the night, and then some. Best of all, your boss has no reason to be breathing down your neck.

In fact, he’s happy, too, you note when the Lasat’s bellowing business-laugh resounds overtop a few flutes of spotchka, glowing inside a booth across the room. You pass a cloth around the rim of a clean glass, feeling a tickle of interest as to who he might be schmoozing this time. When you glance up, you can just make out a pair of well-dressed Rodians seated across from him through the leisure-thick air of the cantina, nudging each other and laughing at whatever witty, schmoozy thing he just said.

A soft snort puffs through your nose. At least Dakk is a predictable man, if nothing else. Must be rich folk, probably well connected. Good. You’ll get no help tonight, but at least he will be occupied for a while.

In fact...

Flicking a quick glance around the room, you take your chance and shrug your outer tunic off your shoulders, quickly smoothing down your much more revealing undershirt until it clings to the shape of you. You know Dakk hates when you do this, always goes on about keeping the place “classy.” But he’s not looking, and if it puts a few extra credits in your jar by the end of the night, it’s worth it. Anyway, you’re in a good mood tonight. Bored nonetheless, and the combination always forges a mischievous kind of boldness in you; a tiny spark that glows just bright enough to cast the idea of consequence in shadow.

You scan the bar for an empty drink, a flirtatious urge rolling off of your freshly bared skin and filling your ribs with air. It’s not long before you hone on your target-- an unsuspecting guest sitting alone, head turned away. Probably eavesdropping. A smirk curves your lips and you sidle over, plink a glass down between you, leaning your elbows on the bartop.

“Something else for you, sugar?”

His head whips around with a guilty swiftness, but you just offer an easy smile, shifting your weight through your hips to coax his eyes down your body. It works like a charm.

“I, uh...“ The young Mirialan stammers directly at your tits. “Yeah, c-can I, ah…”

As you wait out his struggle, an idea sparks in your freshly emboldened mind. Maker’s sake, might as well help the poor thing out.

“Got a ruge liqueur in stock, last shipment off Alderaan. Rare these days.” Your lashes flutter, tongue just barely playing your along your lower lip as if teasing some unspoken promise. “I just couldn’t help but notice, you seem like a person of exceptional taste.”

The words are warm summer air on your tongue, practiced and enticing. You can see them go to the kid’s head like spice smoke, his cheeks immediately flushing deep emerald beneath diamond-shaped tattoos.

“Y-yeah?” He straightens, runs a hand through his hair, grinning sheepishly. “I mean...yeah! I, uh, I am. That s-sounds great, yeah. Um. Please.”

You smile. Too easy.

Now, it’s not technically a lie. You do have the ruge in stock, it’s just that--well, it’s definitely nothing this kid can afford. But you’d bet a week’s worth of tips that you can slip him a cheap offworld varietal instead. Charge him triple its price, pocket the excess. Poor thing wouldn’t know the real stuff if it bit him.

You swell with the thought. That amount might even let you buy something nice for yourself for once. It might be a little slimy, but... fuck it. Kid seems well off enough. Decently nice clothes, cologne, that misplaced air of belonging that comes with sheltered entitlement. Surely he won’t miss a few extra credits. Anyway, you deserve this, right?

Moving to speak again, you prepare to lay the flirting on thick, really sell the gambit. But before you get the chance, a loud bang snaps your attention upward just in time to see the cantina door slam open.

You straighten where you stand, irritation and curiosity pricking your ears in equal measure. But then a slight hush cuts the ease of your buzzing meadow, and your chest squeezes with it.

Boba Fett.

The hunter takes up almost the whole doorway, a broad tower of matte green beskar catching the soft neons of the cantina. The distinctly cold gaze of the Mandalorian helmet scans the room, stirring murmurs and averting eyes until it comes to rest, finally, upon you.

It feels like two cold weights set down on your shoulders, being the focus of that stare.

Even as the energy picks back up around you, as conversations cautiously resume, it’s like you’re trapped in it, breathless under its weight and unable to look away. You vaguely register the Mirialan turn back to your tits and ask them something about when your shift ends. But you’re still transfixed, watching the armored man take a few deliberate steps towards the bar and straddle a stool, the visor trained like a crosshair upon you as his forearms settle on the bartop.

You’ve seen him here before. Heard his name whispered in weighted ripples ever since news spread through the Outer Rim that Bib Fortuna was dead. Since then, he’s come through maybe once every few dozen cycles, each time with a couple new chips in the paint of his armor. He comes here on business--or at least you assume that’s what it must be, since he always meets someone, speaks in hushed tones enshrouded by the dim corner booth in the back. He’ll toss a few credits on the bar when he leaves, but has never uttered a word to you, never ordered a drink.

Never even glanced your way, for all you know. Until right now.

You swallow. Fucking hell, if there’s anything you’re used to, it’s being looked at. So why is this gaze kicking your pulse up into the base of your throat, making you feel exposed? A prickle of heat is already settling in your cheeks.

And then the visor cocks, and just barely tilts down the length of your figure.

A tight breath snaps into your lungs, and your eyes dart to the bartop, across the room, back to the Mirialan still babbling dumbly at you, your face now hot. Kriff, what is wrong with you? Since when are you outright flustered by some stranger copping an eyeful? You try to breathe, ignoring how the hairs stand on your neck.

But you can still feel his attention like the heat of a sun warming your bare shoulder, and it makes something start to coil in your belly and glow there.

“I’ll have that ruge right up, sweetheart.”

You’re pretty sure you interrupt the kid, but he doesn’t seem to mind, just calls out a stammered thank-you as you pivot away towards your new guest, your heart kicking against your sternum. Your feet almost feel weighted to the floor, and by the time you reach him, your pulse has an edge like a blade.

“Something I can interest you in?”

There’s a breathlessness to the warm air of your voice now, and you pray to the Maker that it doesn’t betray you. You lean against the bar, hoping that the solidity of the wood will somehow teach your nerves to follow its example. It doesn’t.

He seems to study you for a moment, motionless. And then his shoulders shift, his elbows widen, and he leans in towards you.

“Information.” His voice is low and direct, barely above a graveled whisper, the single accent-laden word dragging through your belly and sparking like metal on stone.

Fuck.

Of course he’s after the one thing you’re not willing to sell.

Your heart stalls while your mind starts to race, eyes searching the dark visor. Of course you’d be a fool to deny him, and he knows it. That’s why he’s asking you. Why would you risk rousing a scene in your own bar, especially when the night is so mercifully calm? Easier to give him what he wants. Tap into your collection of liquor-loosened secrets, and knowledge of the local crowd.

The thing is, you’ve built a good rapport for your discretion. You think. Not to mention the number of cutting warnings Dakk has laid on you about the consequences for selling secrets in his bar. Is it really worth risking? Fett intimidates you, no doubt. But he’s also banking on the assumption that you won’t make this difficult for him. He has to be. And now unease and excitement are starting to play a game of catch between your ribs with that tiny, dangerous spark of boldness.

“Fresh out.” Your fingers drum the wood beneath them, trying to ground your reflexes through the rush of adrenaline that accompanies your words. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and you stare into the blackness of the visor as you let the tiniest, playful smirk flit over your face. “Perhaps something to drink?”

Slowly, achingly slowly, Boba Fett settles back on the bar stool. Unease lances you, splintering with the immediate question of whether you just made the right choice. You don’t want to think about how many he’d manage to kill before you could even blink, if he decided to do something extreme. His hand starts to shift back along his thigh, drawing a path towards the blaster at his hip. You swallow, panic pricking your neck.

Just as your muscles are primed to dive behind the bar, convinced you’re going to have to evade his quickdraw, his palm just takes a lazy rest on the hilt. The helmet levels, and then leans slowly to the side.

“No.”

Dizzied, you blink. It’s impossible to know what he’s thinking through that helmet, and he’s offered you all of two words. But was that… amusement, you heard? No. Anger? Fuck, now you’re really imagining things.

Still a little breathless, you straighten, sensing that you’re dismissed. The thought of flirting with a killer was a much-needed rush, but you need to take his indifference as a mercy after that little stunt and get on with your job while he’s giving you the chance. What little you apparently have left of a survival instinct is at least telling you that much.

You shrug.

“Suit yourself.”

It feels dangerous to take your eyes off of him. But you force yourself to do so anyways, turning your back on the hunter and making your way to the dim doorway at the end of the bar, his attention still heating your spine.

It’s a fucking relief to slip through the door to the storage room, ease the door shut behind you, and for the first time in what feels like moons, you let a long breath fill your lungs. The familiar scent of dust and wine-aged wood floods you, and something like disappointment tugs at your heart.

Maybe that stupid, adventure-craving side of your imagination took things too far, fueled by your boredom and the prospect of something exciting finally happening. You suppose you projected that naive hope onto Boba Fett, if nothing else just because he’s the first person to come through here in a long time that actually intrigues you. That confounds your prized, finely-calibrated radar for reading people without having to speak a word to them.

Fuck, he really wouldn’t give you much more than a word, would he? Guess he’s determined to keep scrambling your sensors. It shouldn’t deject you as much as it does. But... come on, the least the son of a mudscuffer could do is flirt back if he was gonna fucking undress you with his eyes like that.

Or maybe that was just your imagination, too.

You sigh, scanning a shelf on the back wall for a ruge that will make a convincing enough dupe. A synthetic varietal, perhaps. No--too cheap. You’ve got something from a Naboo vineyard in here somewhere. Anyways, whatever, since when are you desperate for any man’s attention?

No, okay, it’s... you know that isn’t what this is really about.

It would just be nice to feel important, is all. Like the secrets you’ve gathered might be worth something. Could someday give you a place in something bigger. Or at least like anything about you might be worth more than equivalent to a shot of shitty spotchka.

Forget it. As if that will ever happen.

Your finger absently traces the dusty label of a bottle, and then a soft clink of metal behind you freezes your blood.

You whip around to meet a wall of beskar, inches from your face.

You start to scream, but the sound catches in your throat when a big hand seizes you by the back of the neck and wrenches you around, bending you at the hips and slamming you chest-down against the stale wood of a storage crate. Cold metal presses your thighs and your heart smacks your ribs, your body completely trapped under Boba Fett’s mass in one motion.

“I said I need information, little one, and you’re going to give it to me.” His voice scrapes over your body, sliding through the dim room like the shadow from a candle flame. You quail beneath him, brain racing with shock.

“I d-don’t—ugh!” The weight of his forearm comes down between your shoulder blades, pressing breathy little grunts from your lungs as you squirm. “I don’t sell out my customers.”

You freeze when the distinct click of a blaster registers right at your temple.

“Never said I was buying.”

Panic zips down your spine, your chest heaving against the wooden crate as heat slams your core. Somewhere, your rational brain is scrambling to parse the threat, but something about the sheer filth and danger of it is setting your whole body on fire, making far more primal nerves come alive. Trying to shake the feeling, you squirm.

“At lea--ngh, least nothing’s changed there.”

Fucking hell, what are you doing? Besides sassing the known murderer with a blaster currently trained at your head, alone in a dark room. Yet somehow that very fact is making arousal bloom so wicked and fast that you can already start to feel your cunt throb against the fabric of his pants.

“Willing to die to protect a few spineless slime crawlers who don’t even know your name?” Boba rocks his weight against you, powerful and lazy in the way he simply leans into his hips, grinds them up hard against your ass to keep you flattened over the edge of the crate. “Boss man lines his pockets while his good little pet works for scraps.” Air feels more scarce to your lungs by the second. “Interesting, how your loyalties lie.”

Indignance flares up your spine.

“I w-ouldn’t expect you to understand.” You try to put venom in the words, but it’s difficult between your breathlessness and the sheer eroticism of this position you’re in. “Small price to pay, f-for a good life.”

Through your annoyance, you can’t help feeling a twinge of enjoyment at his solidity, at how you can just discern the outline of him through his pants. An excited thrum of your pulse snaps to your core like a fuse.

Above you, Boba Fett chuckles.

“Is that what he gives you?” There’s a mockery to his tone that heats your blood, and you start to squirm in defiance before remembering the blaster at your temple. Fett simply crushes you harder, drawing your attention back to his crotch. “Seems to me like you’re the mouse in his attic.”

“I suppose you’re better than him? Than any of them?” you immediately bite, not wanting to acknowledge the truth behind his words. Instead, you grab that spark of bravery and crank the voltage until it drowns your doubt, throwing your caution to the stars faster than punching an airlock in hyperspace. “Do you even know m-my name, Mando?” A tiny giggle ripples your chest. “I know yours.”

“Might be the last one you know,” Boba growls, but you’re becoming fixated on his cock now, the way you could swear that it’s growing more distinct by the second.

Fear and pleasure wrack your brain, the combination intensifying so deliciously with the pressure of his groin against your ass that you can hardly think straight any more. In a moment of sick indulgence, you arch your back and shift just slightly, wanting to feel that pressure against something now pulsing and sensitive.

The grip on your neck locks tight, and your breath stops.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, princess.”

He kicks your legs apart and crushes his hardening bulge against your pussy. And, fuck, you moan. You don’t even mean to, but the thrill of helplessness has you so mindlessly turned on that you can’t stop the noise from squeezing out of your throat.

“Filthy little thing you are.”

There’s a shift in his tone now. The vice hold disappears from your nape just before your pants are wrenched unceremoniously over your ass and down to mid thigh. You gasp at the feeling of air brushing your bare lips. He takes a moment, and you think he must be looking at you. Heat blossoms from your face all the way down to your chest, and then he’s against you again, a palm coming down between your shoulders as coarse fabric presses flush with your cunt.

You can really feel the outline of his cock now, hard enough to rival his armor but warm and thick against you, and you whimper. It’s only a click that snaps your awareness back to the weapon pointed at your head.

“Let’s try this again, little mouse.” Boba’s voice comes lower and airier through the vocoder now in a way that blazes right through you. “You give me what I want, and perhaps you’ll inspire my generosity.”

In emphasis of his intent, he rocks his erection against the cleft of your pussy. Your eyes snap wide, an almost painful stab of arousal making you immediately whine louder than you intend to. “Fuck--oh, please!”

“Careful.” His hand slides up your neck, angling your face so that he can see it twist in shame and pleasure. “Wouldn’t want anyone finding you like this.”

Your cheeks blaze. Shallow breaths stutter in your lungs as his thumb tugs the pillow of your lower lip. And then he releases you, his hand moving back somewhere you can’t sense. The pressure against your ass shifts for a moment, just before the wide, hot shaft of his bare cock caresses your cunt.

“Last night there was a man here, Mon Cala, middle aged.” Your body is on fire as he speaks, the skin to skin contact dousing your brain in blind want. You grit your teeth, screw your eyes shut, trying hard to focus on what he’s saying while your pussy twinges around nothing. “He talked to the owner here, then he met with someone. Tell me who.”

A reluctant whimper leaves your lips, and the noise might just be one of the most pathetic you’ve ever made as your tongue still stubbornly refuses to slip. But Fett’s words ring again through your head with a resentful pang: the mouse in his attic. Is that what you’ll die as?

At your temple, the blaster’s safety disengages.

“Fuck! Okay, okay.” Your breath comes heavily, brain uncertain and lust-addled, fumbling for the details. “He um. Met a--mmh, a woman, I d-didn’t catch her name. Please--” Your voice trails off in a soft whine, your hips shifting back, trying to find the means to swallow his cock where it teases your tender core, entice him with the diversion now that you’ve given him a crumb.

“You must be dumber than I took you for, sweetling.” His hips retreat slightly, evading you. The sheer display of restraint is infuriating, electrifying. It shallows your breath with need. He stills again, a rough, gloved hand running firmly up your spine, pushing your shirt up to bare more of your skin to his view. “Tell me the rest.”

Your teeth set with a final, feeble whine of hesitation. More instinct than anything. But then a cold ring of metal presses your temple, and fresh fear unbinds your tongue in a deluge.

“S-she had, ah--civilian clothes, but, um… an Imperial s-standard issue blaster.” Your eyes screw in concentration, details flickering like a glitchy holocom through your brain. “I heard them talk about, uh. A shipment. For… Fuck, uh. Th-three cycles from now.”

Boba hums, a sound that makes your eyes roll back as you feel yourself nearly dripping against him, your slick coating his cock where it just barely parts you.

“Smart girl.” His hand drags indulgently down your back, coming to rest on your hip and squeezing. “Where’s the shipment going, princess?”

Torture. This is some kind of galactic war crime, you’re sure of it. Pleasure surges from your teased cunt and his grip on your flesh, and his voice is almost soothing now, coaxing you further towards complacency. It’s all too much. Your head rests against the crate, defeat washing in a gentle tide over you.

“Going... to Hosnian Prime.”

A soft, satisfied puff of noise comes from the modulator. The barrel retreats from your temple.

“Now, there’s a good girl.”

Warmth crashes through your lower belly, a strange and exhilarating sensation that suddenly makes you want to... purr? No one has ever spoken to you like this, and it’s tickling a part of your brain that feels far, far too good. But then his cock glides thick and heavy along your folds, obliterating your thoughts, and all you can think about is having that inside of you.

“Fuck,” you whine as he slowly aligns himself, teasing up and down the drenched, tender flesh of your pussy. He takes his time, massaging the blunt head over your clit and sending little shocks through your muscles, making you shiver and clench. “Please, please…”

“Tame little creature when you want to be,” he grits, pressing against your entrance with an exhaled groan. “Keep being good for me.”

Slowly, he starts to push. And, oh, fuck.

You’re not ready.

You’re wetter and needier than you’ve ever been in your life, and you’re still not fucking ready to take a cock like this one when it crushes in and stretches you, setting an ache through your hips that tells you whatever happens, you’re bound to feel him for days.

A cry sticks in your throat and you will yourself to breathe, to relax as he sinks in further, forcing your walls to flutter and part around him. It truly feels like being broken open, and your fingers have to dig into the wood beneath you when he pulls out an inch and then pushes again, sinking deeper this time as a choked noise pulls through the vocoder.

By the time he finally bottoms out, you swear you can feel him shifting your guts. Every muscle in your pelvis is straining to take him, the intensity mind-numbing already. You’re nearly choking on your own attempts to breathe while he pauses, sheathed like this for a few moments, seeming to concentrate on his own breathing at the same time.

And then his voice comes again, a growl, pitched even lower and more ferocious than before through a clutched breath.

“Fuck, you’re a tight little thing.”

Stars.

This is different.

It’s so hard to think, you’ve never felt more full, but something in the back of your mind is unfurling, turning hot and primal with a roiling kind of need that burgeons and begs at the feeling of his cock rooted so fucking deep inside of you. You’ve had sex before, sure, but this…

You’re about to get fucked.

“Please…” you mewl. Desperation pierces you when you feel his fingers flex strong and firm around your hip in response. You turn your head, trying to glimpse him--only to realize that the blaster is still right next to your face, its angle nonchalant, close enough to brush your lips.

Your mind is so drenched in lust, the first urge that strikes you is to stick out your tongue and wet the metal, its sharp alloy piercing your senses and making your pussy seize with the shudder of danger.

In your periphery, you see the visor snap to attention, like he wasn’t fully looking at you before, lost in his own pleasure. But now he is. And he gives the weapon an experimental twist, allowing for your lips to wrap, delicate and wet, just around the tip of the barrel.

“Fearless little mouse.” There’s something dark and charged in his voice. “You look good like that.”

A slight wiggle to open your jaw, and the blaster shoves past your lips, resting thick and cold on your tongue, lighting your spine with a new thrill. Your voice swells on a muffled moan around it, such a soft and lovely sound to accompany a thing that’s orchestrated countless deaths.

“There we are. Nice and quiet now.”

Finally, finally, he starts to thrust, slow and measured, forcing your body to yield around the width of him. Something burns hot in your belly with each steady stroke, wiping your brain of everything but his presence.

The rough material of a glove smothers one of your asscheeks, grips and pulls at the pillowy flesh, spreading you open as his thrusts take up a steady, powerful rhythm. Boba Fett lets out a long groan, and you can only imagine the view he has right now. It sears you alive, the knowledge that he likes looking at you like this, pitching and whimpering with his rhythm, the sight of your pussy stretched, helpless around his cock and your mouth wetting his blaster.

Your spit slicks the barrel more with every thrust, and you can feel the mechanics shifting dangerously between your lips. But his trigger finger is steadier than death, and his control gives you the nerve to let your tongue lick out along the barrel, bathe in the electric wash of fear that sets all of your nerves into overdrive.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he snarls as his pace starts to kick up wilder.

Intense pleasure cracks through you now, visceral in a way you’ve never felt, and it’s all you can do to keep relatively quiet. The barrel on your tongue is a sharp enough reminder, yet it fuels your arousal to burn hotter and wetter all the same. The more you concentrate on the powerful bliss coiling in your core and rippling outwards, the more you can feel yourself starting to tighten around him, your body yearning vaguely towards a release it can’t seem to center on.

You hear him groan as you squeeze him, his grip on your flesh flexing and shifting. A few more strong thrusts, and then his cock pulls all the way out of you with a woeful pang, the blaster vacating your mouth in the same motion to leave you empty, dizzied and clenching. But before you can unscramble your brain, the blaster slots back into its holster and he’s moving you. With an effortless kind of control, he flips you over, shifting you until the solid wood of the crate supports your ass.

He hikes both of your legs onto one shoulder and in one swift, easy motion, whisks your pants over your shoes and off of your ankles, tossing them carelessly into the darkness of the room before hooking your legs around his armored waist.

“Going to watch you cum, princess. Nice and pretty.”

Your mouth opens on a gasp at his words, and a gloved thumb immediately presses your tongue, the taste of leather and plasma residue grounding your senses enough to register that he’s lining his cock back up at the heat of your entrance. You whine around his thick digit, and he growls somewhere low in his chest as he pushes the thick head back in, this new angle making you see stars all over again.

He doesn’t bother letting you adjust this time, just uses your wetness to his advantage to start railing through your tightness, burning and stretching you as that warm swell starts to crest again. It’s such a deep, full feeling, spreading a delicious ache from the spot where he hits you deep in your tummy.

Your brows draw together, your whines pitching higher as you search the visor. It’s a wordless plea, your vision swallowed by the power of him fucking you deep, your body now screaming to cum but needing something you can’t quite pinpoint.

The hunter’s thumb slips out of your mouth, his hand forging an eager path down your body. He palms your tit over your shirt, before grabbing the low collar and yanking it down, baring your nipples to his view one after the other. His whole hand spans your torso as he hooks the lower hem with his thumb, bunching the material until both your belly and tits are bare, your shirt like a handle at your diaphragm that he uses to pound you even harder, watching your body jolt, overpowered by his thrusts.

Airy little wails brush through your lips, the pleasure all too intense and not enough at the same time. You can’t take it anymore, you need something on your clit, and your fingers twitch to seek out that precious target. But he’s already moving, his hips slowing to a lazier pace while his free hand finds some destination at his belt, and what he produces freezes you in your tracks.

“Steady now,” he breathes as he slips a long blade out of his belt and spins it by the hilt, his fingers almost too quick, too tactful for such a brute.

Instinctual panic grips you at the sight of the weapon, making your legs try to close. But he’s pushed too deep in you, his frame has you pinned open, and there’s nothing you can do against the sheer breadth of his body. Powerless, you simply whimper.

“Wh… what are y--”

“Hush, princess.”

A flick of his thumb and the vibroblade springs to life, its hum filling the quiet air. He starts to bring the blunt hilt of it down where your body yields to his. Alarm pierces you one final time, but then he touches the pommel, just barely, against the tender swell of your clit.

You want to fucking scream. As if in anticipation of this, he claps his hand over your mouth just in time for you to bite down on his glove while your eyes roll back in a powerful wave of ecstasy. The vibrations surge through the sensitive nerves, lighting your whole body up in a way you’ve never felt before. It’s pure bliss, and then a low, long growl slips through the helmet’s modulator at the feeling of your walls pulsing tight, strangling his cock.

His thrusts deepen again, powerful and steady, stroking some devastating spot deep inside you. Your muffled wails get lost in the breath-dampened fabric of his glove while the intense pleasure crests from your clit, higher, higher, lasering in on that intangible cusp and barreling you straight towards it.

You suspend at the peak, all senses failing, and then your orgasm takes you in a riptide, surging through your nerves like liquid fire. The magnitude of it rends you, stronger than you’ve ever felt, dragging you under and forcing you to ride it out while it just pulls and pulls. By the time you regain your sight you’re shaking, waves of bliss still pulsing and crashing through your body in time to the strong rhythm of his hips, the glowing epicenter that unwavering vibration at your clit.

Sobs wrack your chest, pour out high and lose themselves somewhere in the meat of his hand, and you think you try to catch a few breaths, but you can’t even come down. Boba’s voice cuts through the rush in your ears.

“Good. Good girl.”

He holds the buzzing hilt of the blade impossibly steady against your clit and that glow is still so bright, twitching, starting to spill through your nerves again and holy shit you think you just might--

“Again.”

Your second orgasm shreds you like a plasma cannon.

You’re blind, numb to everything but the intense pleasure, nerves now as raw and sharp as the edge of the blade itself. His hand is tight over your face and you feel your cunt convulsing and gushing around his cock, slick cum spilling to wet your asscheeks, and it must be your own because his pace hasn’t let up.

A clatter resounds on the edge of your consciousness and when your eyes come into focus, Boba’s hand is locking into your waist, the blade discarded somewhere in the room. His hips piston hard with a few vulgar slaps of flesh, the head of his cock crushing against your deepest parts before he wrenches out of you and spills over your bare stomach with a strangled roar, gripping himself at the base and thrusting against you as warm, thick ropes paint your skin.

His release is long. Grunts distort into rough static through the vocoder as he rides out the last pulses, until finally he braces himself on the crate beside your head, hunched over you like a beast, his chest plate rolling with heavy breaths. You can only blink at him through hazed, damp eyes, your body feeling weak and utterly fucked dumb. The hand over your mouth slowly unlocks its grip, dragging downwards and leaving you to take shallow gulps of air while he gives your tit a deliberate squeeze.

And then he drags himself off of you, straightening with an almost-concealed groan as he adjusts himself and leaves you to blink at the dark ceiling, still letting oxygen find your brain.

When you shakily manage to sit up, you just glimpse him slipping the discarded vibroblade back into his belt and turning towards the door. Even through your dizziness, you scoff. Figures. Bastard is just going to fuck your brains out and then leave you like this.

“You know,” you sigh, watching him and lazily trailing your fingers in a circle on your tummy, enjoying the lingering buzz of your skin and gathering a bit of his spend where it coats you, still warm. “I’d say that tip-off was at least worth a handful of credits in my jar on your way out.”

He turns and looks at you then, the helmet cocking in consideration for a moment. As soon as his attention is on you, your fingers move from his mess on your belly to your mouth, where you slowly suckle him off of your fingers, never once taking your eyes off the visor, a tiny ripple of playfulness wiggling your shoulders and curling your lips.

His shoulders square to you, and that hunter’s stance still makes your chest seize, sends a pulse to your exhausted pussy.

Metal clinks softly as he walks towards you, stepping between your knees until you’re forced to drop your hand from your mouth and look up at him, heart fluttering again. He brushes the knuckle of his forefinger under your chin.

“Fresh out.”

His back turns as you stare, speechless. And then the door swings on its hinges, and Boba Fett is gone.

#boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett smut #star wars fanfiction #smut #loyalties lie #my works #masterlist

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artaxerxesthegreat · 2 years

Text

Playing with Fire: Part 6

A/N: Everyone in this story is 18+, if minors are mentioned they aren’t getting in any weird, sick, twisted situations with adults. I also use female pronouns for the reader and the reader may be a bit OC. I would also prefer that minors DO NOT interact with this at all. Thank you.

Warnings: Dream based, Actors mixed with characters, College AU!, Mixed universes, Raffey Cassidy stands in as Sprite, Swearing, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, mild violence (?), implied sexual content, mentions of bullying, college strife, MCU/X-Men/Spider-Man/Actors mashed in one universe, self- doubt, insecurities, depression, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, family issues, mentions of disabilities, (Please let me know if I’ve missed something too.)

A/N: This chapter mentions death by/and a car accident. Just a heads up.

Part 6

“I should really stop pretending I’m having sex with Druig when it’s Richard.”

Fuck.

——-

…. 2½ years later….

It’s finally the Winter Break of my Junior year and let me tell you, I’m so ready to graduate! I’m sick and tired of school, but you need a degree for everything these days. So annoying! Well apart from school trying my patience at every turn it hasn’t been all bad; I have a boyfriend- that’s not something I thought I’d ever say. But, yes I have a boyfriend, Richard- actually Ikaris, my Scotsman.

God I love that man, without him I would’ve given up a long time ago, we have study nights… and other nights. If you know what I mean. Life couldn’t be any better honestly, after talking to Kitty about my time with Ikaris, he and I sat down and talked about what we both would want, and seeing that our wants meshed perfectly with each other’s, we decided to date. It’s been a strong two and a half years, and now he gets to spend the holidays with my family. Honestly not looking forward to that, but it was bound to happen at some point.

I even invited Sprite and her boyfriend to join us this evening.

Yes, that’s right, Sprite has a boyfriend, and you’ll never guess who he is. It’s Druig, well Barry, for some reason he hasn’t told her about his real name and accent I’ve asked him why and it’s always the same answer,

“I’ll tell her when I’m ready” or “it’s not really important”

And even this lame answer,

“I forgot.” He’d shrug avoiding my eyes.

I keep telling him it’s not something he can hide forever but he throws this in my face, “The same could be said about your mystery boyfriend, Y/N. All I know is his name is Richard. When are you going to let me meet him?”

“Never. Good day, Druig!” I walk away with my head held high and feeling like shit.

How can I let them meet each other? It’s like the boyfriend meeting the other man scenario- of course neither of them know this about the other, but still! But in true Druig fashion, he wore me down and I let them meet.

It was less than ideal.

Alright it was a complete shitshow, everything happened so quickly.

—That fateful day—

I was being yelled at from every direction

“How could you!”

“You’re with THIS Richard?!”

“Y/N ARE YOU INSANE?!”

“He’s NOT a good person!”

“I can’t believe you’re wasting your time with him!”

“BREAK UP RIGHT NOW!/ STOP BEING FRIENDS WITH HIM!”

“IT’S EITHER ME OR HIM!”

Being confused would’ve been a better feeling to have, but nope! I was so…Blindsided, I felt like shit from two people I care about and I couldn’t do anything but stand there and take it. After a few more rounds of shouting I watched as these two actually got physical, and that’s when I found my voice.

“What the actual FUCK?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Both heads turn to me in anger and confusion, Richard pushes Druig away and tries to reach for me, but I step out of his reach, “Don’t! Don’t touch me!” I run out trying to get away and process everything that just happened.

I hear Druig’s voice as he says, “Maith thú Ikaris!” As he’s walking to his dorm.

“Dìreach air ais ort a Dhruig!” Richard’s voice is full of venom and the sound of his footsteps coming closer makes my skin crawl. He thankfully gives me space but I can see that he’s concerned, “Y/N? Are you alright?”

The look I give him makes him stumble over his words, “Obviously I’m not, Richard! I just watched my boyfriend and friend have a screaming match, give me an ultimatum, and then try to fight each other! The sad part is you both didn’t even just talk to me, as soon as both locked eyes I wasn’t even there anymore, somehow I became the bad guy! ‘How could you?’ How could I, what?! How could I be friends with Druig? How could I date you? What the fuck is wrong with the both of you?! I didn’t even know you guys knew each other! I knew letting you guys meet was a bad idea.”

“Then why did you?”

Oh, no he didn’t.

“WHAT?! You two were bugging the hell outta me to meet each other!” Putting on my best Scottish accent I imitate Richard, “So, when am I goin’ to meet the infamous Barry?” Then I do my best Druig impression, “All I know about your boyfriend is that his name is Richard, when can I meet him?”

“Yeah well, you should’ve used his real name.” He glares at me as he crosses his arms.

“HOW IS THIS MY FAULT! He doesn’t want people knowing his real name! Why!? Why would I tell you!? You could’ve just as easily told me you knew him and hated him! Don’t put all the blame on me!”

“Why are you shouting?”

I close my eyes tightly at his stupid ass question, taking a breath I will myself not to do or say anything I’ll regret later, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what? I only asked you a question. You don’t need to shout to get your point across.”

“Are- Are you fucking kidding me right now!”

“Look this is obviously getting us nowhere, why don’t you go home and relax and we can talk about this more later. Okay? I need to clear my head anyway.”

“What- you- you can’t just dismiss this like that!”

“We’re both adults, let's start acting like it.” With that he turns and walks away leaving me high and dry.

I didn’t know what to do, it’s not like we broke up, but it sure felt like it. I know I could’ve handled it better, but it’s not fair that he gets to let his voice be heard and I can’t. I did try to talk to Druig, but he avoided me like the plague. A whole month and a half went by before I got to talk to him again.

Laying my head on the table on the front desk of the library I hear someone ding the bell right next to my ear, after the fifth ding I grab the bell and chuck it across the lobby all without lifting my head.

“So if the bell’s over there, how am I supposed to ask for help?”

Lifting up my head quickly I’m met with blue eyes, “Dru- Barry.”

“…Hey.”

“Hi.”

After 30 seconds of silence he begins to look around the room avoiding my eyes, confused I remember he said he needed help.

“Oh, right! You said you needed help! Right, so what uh, what can I help you with?”

“There’s… it’s just…” He rolls his eyes more at himself as he struggles to find his words. I fold my hands waiting patiently, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry, for everything. I shouldn’t have been such a dick to you when you brought Ikaris over to meet me.”

“Oh- oh, it’s fine, I- I-I guess, it’s no big deal, I should’ve given you more info on him anyway-”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do, what?”

“Blame yourself, don’t do that. You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s our own fault for what happened, not yours.”

My body starts to get unbearably hot as I try not to cry at his words. I knew it wasn’t my fault, but I still feel responsible. In all honesty I could’ve just been straight up with both of them, but I wasn’t because I like my private life to be just that- private.

“I know that, but-”

“There’s no ‘but’ Y/N. I’m also sorry it took me so long to come and apologize, it’s just that every time I thought about talking to you, the thought of HIM being here- with you, I couldn’t. I’d just get mad all over again.” I can see the storm raging in his eyes as he thinks about Richard.

“It’s fine, not a big deal anyway.”

“Why?” His voice sounded a bit… hopeful.

“We’re still dating-”

“-oh.” The flattest of ‘oh’ I’ve ever heard.

“We just don’t get to see each other that much anymore. He has an internship at that new company ‘Arishem’, he works there with a few people from this school, I’ve never met them, but he’s really happy about it.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it, I was there for a bit but I quit.”

“How come?”

“Didn’t like it, there were some things that went on in that place that I didn’t agree with so I left. Ajak- my supervisor, was really sad to see me go, but I could care less.”

I chuckle at his words and his expression changes- it softens and I’m finally talking to my Druig- I MEAN. I mean to Druig. I’m finally talking to Druig.

“You alright, Y/N?”

“Yeah! Yeah, why?”

“You look like you were having an existential crisis.” He laughs out leaning his elbows on the desk.

“No no, I’m good. I have a quick question though.”

“Shot.”

“This might seem really dumb- like really dumb- but, who is Ikaris, exactly?”

“Good god, you don’t even know your ‘boyfriends’ real name.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff letting his head hit the desk, “He’s such a prick.”

“How was I supposed to know? He introduced himself as ‘Richard’ . What am I a mind reader? No. Geez. What’s the deal with you two anyway?” I shove his head to the side in annoyance, “And it’s boyfriend not ‘boyfriend’.”

“Whatever. But to answer your question, our ‘deal’ is that we’re cousins… Yeah, I know. I can’t believe it either. His parents died when we were kids and he lived with my dad and myself. It was hell.”

“Oh, I never thought you guys would be related, with the different accents and all… Though, I guess I can see some similarities.” Resting my head in my hands I study Druig’s face, he’s livid but holds his tongue, nodding his head.

“Yeah… whatever, Y/N.”

“What? No ‘dote’ anymore?” He looks around the room shifting on his feet anxiously, “What?”

“Mmmm, nothing,” He starts playing with the paper clips, licking his lips he flicks his eye to me, “You still want me to call you that?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t know what it means, but I like it. Besides, it's my nickname from you. You know Loki will have a conniption if you use ‘Bast’.”

“Yeah,” He lets out a laugh with a small smile, “I know. Alright, dote~. Whatcha doin’ after work?”

“Hmmm, nothing much, my friend wants to hang out, I’ve been putting it off for the longest.”

“Why?”

“She has high energy and I can’t deal with her sometimes.”

“Hmm well… Good luck!” He taps the desk pushing off, giving me a goofy grin.

“Gee, thanks.”

“Anytime Dote.”

After that I went to see Raffey- Sprite and she wanted to know why I was so happy… I wasn’t that happy, but I told her that a friend started talking to me again, when she had found out that my friend was Druig she was hysterical. She wouldn’t leave me alone, even tried to stay at my job just to watch him.

Not talk to him, just WATCH him!

I was so put out I dragged his ass over and introduced them.

“Jesus Lord Almighty, BARRY!”

“Y/N, what’re you doing?!?!?”

“Shut up… Ugh this man,” Walking to him I pulled him away from the two girls he was talking to, I didn’t miss the dirty looks, “Oh bite me! Come on Barry, I’m not suffering any longer because of you.”

“Wha? I’ll see you girls later!… Damn Y/N, could you pull me any harder?”

“Ha ha, just talk to this girl.” I push him in front of a blushing and uncharacteristically quiet Sprite, “Well shit, if this is all it takes for you to calm down, why didn’t you say something sooner, Sprite?”

She fixes me a glare as I laugh going back behind the front desk, Ms. Thena spares us all glance, and seeing Barry talk to Sprite I hear her exhale through her nose. Turning to look at her she looks back at me and whispers,

“That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“What do you mean? They seem to be hitting it off quite nicely, besides, have you ever seen Sprite this calm and quiet?”

“…Hmm.” Turning on her heel she walks back into her office filing away some papers.

“The heck was that?” I mumble to myself, looking back at the two I see that they’ve exchanged numbers and Sprite’s face looks like it’ll split in two. Barry takes his leave and Sprite all but collapses in the chair next to me, “You good fam?”

“I hate you! BUT! I love you! But I still hate you!”

“Were you ever going to talk to him, or just stare at him from afar like some creep?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Oh brother.” I roll my eyes laughing, “Well you’re welcome. Now you have his number, good job. What did you guys talk about? Seemed hella short.”

“He asked me out.” She sits up straight smiling widely.

“…oh… Oh! That- that’s great!”

“Why’d you say it like that?”

“No I just wasn’t expecting that, but knowing him I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She glares at me and I know I shouldn’t poke the bear, but I couldn’t help it.

“Nothing, you’ve heard stuff about Barry. He’s a bit… loose. I mean he was talking to those two girls over there… Hi~!” I wave at the girls with a smile and they scoff rolling their eyes at me- pretty sure one called me a bitch, eh haha.

“So, that doesn’t mean anything. It’s gonna be different with us. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Uh- wha- how?” I’m taken aback by her words, it’s hard to know what she exactly meant, ad before I can get an actual sentence out Richard- I mean Ikaris, walks in with a girl I’ve never seen before, “Richard-”

“IKARIS!” I jump at Sprite’s excitement and something about it doesn’t sit well with me.

“Hey Sprite. How’re you doin’?”

“Pretty good! I have a date!”

“Really?”

I feel completely ignored and look at the girl with my best ‘Jim Halper’ face, she gives me a sympathetic smile and introduces herself,

“Hello I’m Sersi, a friend of Ikaris’.” She says as we shake hands.

“Oh,” She knows his real name- this is fine, “Hey, I’m Y/N, girlfriend of Richard, indivisible lover of Ikaris.” I give her a tight smile, taking the hint he turns his attention to me.

“Very funny Y/N, I’m not two different people.”

“Ah and like that I exist!” I smile, looking at the two girls, there was a look on their faces I couldn’t quite place, but I dismissed it.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Ikaris.” Sersi’s voice is careful but this causes me to raise a brow and look at Ikaris.

“What? You’re the one who said you didn’t want our relationship on ‘blast’.” He defends himself.

“This is true.” Sprite adds leaning her head on my shoulder.

“But still, it’d be nice to know.” It feels like Sersi has more to say, but she stops and changes the subject, “Well, it’s been very nice to meet you Y/N, I have to go tutor my Chemistry students. I’ll see you later, Ikaris.”

“Bye.”

“Soooo…” We look to Sprite who gathers her stuff, “This is going to get awkward, isn’t it?”

“Probably.” I mutter, casting a glance to Ikaris.

“Right, time for me to go! Bye!” She bolts out of the library leaving the two of us in silence.

“So?” I begin.

“So what?”

“Where’d you meet Sersi?”

He rolls his eyes smirking as he leans on the desk, “Why? Are you jealous, Y/N?”

“No you’re my boyfriend. You can be friends with whoever you want, as long as they know you have a girlfriend.”

“You said-”

“Don’t tell me what I said. I know what I said, I was there.” The sternness in my voice makes him lose his smirk, “You don’t have to say my name, all you need to say is ‘hi, I’m Richard/Ikaris, we can be friends, but I have a girlfriend. Thank you’.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry… Did you say, ‘I’m Richard/Ikaris’?”

“Yes since that’s how you introduced yourself that way to me. I still haven’t forgiven you for that.”

“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry.”

“No amount of ‘sorry’s’ is ever going to be enough.” I stick my tongue out at him playfully.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“Hmmmmm I don’t know~” I lean my head against his forehead, “What’d you have in mind?”

The sly smile that spreads across his face lets me know that I’m in for a wild night. Kissing me he tells me he’ll be in his dorm and wait for me to get off work. I smile at him and get back to my work. I can feel someone looking at me, turning my head, I look to see if I can see the person, but there’s no one there. Shrugging I busy myself with my work when I feel a presence behind me.

“Yes Ms. Thena?”

“I must say that I’ve never seen you be so assertive before. It’s a pleasant surprise.” I can hear the sincerity in her voice, I spin around in the chair to look at her to be sure. Sure enough, she’s standing there smiling at me.

“Uh- hu yeah. Thanks!”

“But if I were you.” Her face is serious once again, “I’d keep a close eye on him.”

“…Who?” She just stares at me like I’m stupid before she goes back into her office, this time closing the door behind her, “…what…?”

Now all that drama is behind me! It’s Winter break and I get to spend it with some of my favorite people! Life couldn’t be any better!… Well… It could actually, after Ms. Thena left me confused I couldn’t help but feel paranoid about it, I thought she was talking about Druig, since she said he and Sprite weren't right for each other.

So 2 weeks after we reconciled, I sat him down and had a serious talk with him; he listened patiently and even told me he was serious and even asked me if it was okay to ask Sprite to be his girlfriend! I was happy (not really).

“Of course! You don’t need my permission. Just don’t break her heart, and I won’t break you.”

“I just wanted to be sure, she is your friend, and I’ve never had an actual stable relationship- ‘cept with Makarri and it didn’t last that long. What if it’s the same thing?”

Placing my hand on his shoulder reassuringly I smile, “Druig, it’s fine, it’ll be fine- a little scary, but fine. And Sprite isn’t Makarri, she’s someone you HAVE to get to know. Besides you and Makarri are still friends and she doesn’t seem bothered by it.”

“I know.” He leans back in his seat rubbing his face, “I just don’t want to make any mistakes. So, should I? Do you think I should be with Sprite?”

“NO!”

“Yes, definitely!”

“…Okay. Guess I’ll go ask her now then.” He stands up but doesn’t move.

“Wow, the mighty Druig has gotten cold feet.”

He sends me a glare and walks away to find Sprite.

“Wow, that was painful to watch.”

“What the-! LOKI! Stop popping up out of nowhere! Jesus!”

He chuckles as he takes Druig’s spot, “I’m sorry, I just can’t help it sometimes.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. What’s up?”

“I wanted you to meet someone.” He beckons to someone behind me, “This is Sylvie.”

“Hey.” Her British accent hits my ears and my heart melts.

“You’re British!” I whisper, closing my eyes tightly trying to not fangirl.

“Very perceptive this one, Loki.” She sasses as she sits on his lap.

“Be nice Sylvie, Bast happens to be one of the few people I hold near and dear to me.”

“It’s fine… You two seem…comfy.” I say smirking knowing the nature of their relationship.

“Yes, we are.” She looks down at Loki as they have a silent conversation. There’s a playfully glint in their eyes as they turn their attention back to me. It felt like I was being examined, and I didn’t not like it. Sylvie tilts her head looking at me and I could take a guess as to what she was about to say, “Care to-”

“-Join you?”

Her eyes widen as does the smile on her face, “I see why you like her. Very perceptive indeed. I like you, I like her. You’re ours now.”

“Afraid she’s already spoken for my dear.”

“By whom?”

“Her ‘boyfriend’.”

“Well if he’s her ‘boyfriend’-”

“What’s with everyone saying ‘boyfriend’? He is my BOYFRIEND, geez.”

“I still don’t know what you see in him.” Loki sneers at the thought of Ikaris.

“Who is he?” Sylvie looks between us confused, “Not the lad that was here a second ago?”

“No!” I say too quickly, I ignore the faces they make and continue, “Ikaris- uh Richard- Richard is my boyfriend.”

“HIM?!” Sylvie says with disbelief, “Oh, dear, you are so much better off with the one who just left.”

“What are you talking about? He’s about to ask my friend out, he doesn’t like me like that. Plus, how do you even know Ikaris?”

“Oh, I don’t.”

“Then?!”

“He’s the Scottish champ, yeah?… Yeah, I don’t like him. He gives me bad vibes.”

“Wow, that’s it? If you got to know him, you’d see he isn’t that bad.”

“Suit yourself, Basty.” She raises her hands letting it go.

“You can't call her that.” Loki glares at Sylvie.

“Why not?” She looks to me for confirmation.

“That’s the name I came up with for her, no one else can use it but me.”

“No you call her ‘Bast’ I just heard you.”

“Yes and you called her-”

“-Basty. Not ‘Bast’, come correct, Loki.” Sylvie turns to me smiling, “He swears he’s so smart.”

“I AM!”

Shaking my head at them I let out a laugh, though it's cut short when Sprite comes barreling towards me.

“Y/N!!!!!”

“Seriously?” I mumble bracing myself for her embrace, sure enough she uses me- in my seated position- to anchor herself so she doesn’t run past me. I feel the side of the chair dig into my side, I make a face of annoyance and pain. “Y/NY/NY/NY/NY/NY/N!” She says my name repeatedly in my ear.

“Whhhhhaaaaatt! WHAT Sprite?! What's so important that you have to yell in my ear over and over again?!” I snap, shaking her off of me, “If you haven’t noticed I’m having a conversation with these two. And why are you using me as an anchor? My side hurts from the armrest digging in my side!”

“I- I’m sorry, I just-”

“You just what?!” I glare at her, and out of my peripheral vision I can see that Sylvie and Loki are making an ‘And I oop’ face.

“I just wanted to tell you something. I didn’t realize, I’m sorry.��

I feel like a douche bag for snapping at Sprite, but she hurt me. She doesn’t have any regards for other people sometimes, she’s too much of a kid. So carefree and oblivious to others around her. But the face she has and the looks from Sylvie and Loki tell me I’ve crossed a line, “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I’m just dealing with some stuff right now.”

“It’s fine,” She gives me a small smile, “Can I tell you my news?”

“Sure.” I give her an amused smile waiting for the news.

“It’s Barry! He asked me to be his girlfriend!” She all but squeals.

“You’re kidding!” I say in faux shock, Sprite is so wrapped up in her excitement she doesn’t catch it, but Loki does. I feel his foot hit mine as he gives me a knowing look.

“I know! Can you believe it?!”

“Nooo~ I’m so happy for you!” I stand up giving her a hug, I give Loki a look as he scoffs loudly.

“What’s happening right now?” Sylvie asks looking at us for answers, Sprite wastes no time in spilling the tea.

She takes my seat as she recounts- in detail- how Barry asked her to be ‘his girl’. I wish I stopped my eye roll, at this point it’s a reflex. Before she can get too carried away I step in,

“Hey I’m gonna get going.”

“Where are you going, don't you want to hear about it?”

“Of course I do, but Ikaris and I are meeting up tonight, so I’m gonna get ready.”

“Okie dokie! I’ll tell you later then, love you!”

“Bye.” I smile and turn to Sylvie, “It was nice to meet you, but I gotta go. Maybe we can hang out sometime?”

“I’d like that, it was nice to meet you too, Basty.” She gives me a hug and takes her place back on Loki’s lap.

“We’ll be having a talk too Bast.” There’s a certain kind of authority in his tone that tells me I’m not getting out of it, so I just nod and walk away.

Now I can’t be 100% sure, but it almost sounded like Sprite said, “Wait, they aren’t meeting up tonight.”

Fast forward to 3 months into their relationship, they were obviously smitten with each other, and Ikaris wasn’t amused. He said that I shouldn’t have let Druig corrupt Sprite- like excuse me, this girl parties 24/7, stays out late with god knows who, and drinks like a wine-o, they were perfect for each other. I’ve lost count of how many drunk texts I’ve gotten from her to pick her up from some random person's house at 2 or 3 in the morning, besides Sprite isn’t my child and she isn't a child. She can make her own decisions, he wasn’t happy about it, but he got over it. He kinda had to since Sprite wanted us to double date, which wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, the arguments were minimal- probably because Sprite couldn’t keep her mouth to herself, so annoying- and after the date I finally asked Ikaris what the big deal was.

“Alright, what’s up with you and Druig?” Not turning my car on as I wait for an explanation.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Ikaris glares as he watches Sprite and Druig hold hands and giggle as they walk to his car.

“Look all I know is that you guys are cousins, and you lived with Druig and his dad. I just can’t figure out how that all equates to bitter hatred.”

He waits until they’re driving away to answer me, “My parents died in a car accident when I was a kid, and the only family that would take me in was Valkin- Druig’s dad, but Druig also lost his mom at the time too. She was really sick and died in the hospital… An- anyway Druig hadn’t lived with his father up until that point so they didn’t have much of a relationship, then I come into the picture and he blames me for his dad not liking him.”

“Wow, that’s a lot to take in… He never talks about his parents. I had no idea.”

“Yeah, classic Druig.”

“But how did you moving in with them make him hate you?”

“I turned out to be the better boy, he couldn’t relate to his dad in any way, and he saw how well we got on and became extremely jealous, that jealousy turned into hate. It’s quite sad really.”

“I’ll say.” I slump in my seat as I take all of it in. I can’t picture Druig being like that with anyone, not when he’s so carefree and happy. But then again I didn’t take him for the relationship type either and he’s having the time of his life. It left a lot of people confused- like, a lot! Girls don’t even come up to him anymore, guess when you make it known you’re taken people listen… Of course I’ve heard a few rumors that Sprite has started fights with a few girls because of Druig, but in all honesty she wouldn’t last long.

“That’s family for you, huh?” He tries to joke.. Neither of us laugh and we sit in awkward silence for a few moments.

“Well, I can’t not disagree. I have a few family members I could live without, but I wouldn’t say I hate them. The only times we have problems is when I stand up for myself or when they talk about my ‘love life’. ‘When are you going to bring a guy home, Y/N?’ ‘You aren’t getting any younger, Y/N.’ ‘Your eggs will shrivel up before you can give us grandchildren, Y/N.’ ‘Are you gay?’ ‘Do you not like men?’ ‘Can’t your friends introduce you to someone, you do have friends right?’… Alright. I hate them.”

Ikaris laughs at my comments and grabs my hand kissing the back of it, “Well, now you have someone to bring home.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah yeah, I- wow. I’d like to hold off on that for a bit- IF- if you don’t mind.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I just want to enjoy this- us. The last thing I need is my family meddling in my affairs more than they already are. Besides I haven’t even told my mom yet, I know she’s gonna flip out.”

“Why would she?”

“She thinks that just because she birthed me that means she has a right to say what I can and cannot do in my life, regardless of my age. She thinks if I don’t tell her every little thing in my life I’m doing some great sin against her. Then she plays the victim and I look like a rebellious unloving rude child. It’s really annoying, thankfully my dad could care less. He just tells me to do what makes me feel happy.”

“At least you have someone on your side, but in all honesty I can’t wait to meet your family. I know they seem overbearing but they mean well.”

“Uh-huh.” We laugh some more feeling more relaxed and happy, after a few seconds I pull out of the restaurant parking lot and take us home.

And now here we are in the future- and it’s bright- Ikaris and I couldn’t be happier, our relationship is going strong, there’s absolutely nothing wrong! We talk about everything, when we have an issue with something we always talk it out, I have a healthy and productive relationship… with my boyfriend… who is Ikaris…. Yeeeeeeeeeep… Yeeep… Mhmmmm!… Ugh. Okay, here’s the thing.

After I had met Sersi 2½ year ago I couldn’t get the look she had out of my head, or the one from Sprite, but Sprite’s a little shit who likes to instigate in people's lives for no reason- knowing all that something was still bugging me. I did try to ask Ikaris why he always had to be the one to take Sersi home after their internship, he told me it was because he was the only one she trusted and felt comfortable with, I totally get that. But Phastos is also there and I know for a FACT he isn’t gonna try anything with her.

1. He isn’t that kind of person.

2. He’d rather die than do something like that to ANYONE.

3. He’s gay.

4.His boyfriend would kill HIM for hurting anyone in that kind of way.

I presented Phastos as an option, and he had an answer for that,

“He stays late- sometimes 4 or 6 hours after everyone’s gone, just tinkering away.”

Okay, then I understand that too, so I let it go. But it was very annoying that he would come back smelling like her perfume, he would laugh and then shower before we would do anything.

Sprite was another topic we had to discuss, because her excitement was just a little more than what it should’ve been.

“I’ve known Sprite for a long time.”

“She never mentioned it.”

“Well, you know Sprite. A bit scattered, she is.”

“Hmmm, yeah.”

That still didn’t explain why she hangs on to every word that comes out of his mouth, and gaze at him like he put up the sun! I noticed that some girls around campus would look at him the same way, but according to Ikaris it’s my imagination.

“Really? Seriously? That’s what you’re going with, ‘my imagination’?”

“Babe, I only have eyes for you. I don’t even know half the girls you point out. Did you ever stop to think that maybe they’re looking at you?”

“Why the hey-hey would they be looking at me?”

“Because you’re fucking gorgeous, that’s why.”

“….Shut up. God, I’m dating the sappiest fool ever.”

“Yup!”

Even with all of that I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He had an answer for all my questions, and even though that should’ve given me peace of mind, my brain went into overdrive and started overthinking everything. So I did the only thing I could do.

I ignored it, and tried to live my life, which really just means I spent my time with Druig and the Loki’s- turns out there are quite a good amount of people that share my Loki’s name; an older white gentleman who is the head of the Psychology department, a black man who is the theater director, a boy about the age of 14 (one of the youngest students, he’s super smart for no reason), a crocodile that they all decided to adopt from the zoo, and FREAKIN’ Sylvie! She says that was her name when she was a kid, but she’s outgrown it and dubbed herself ‘Sylvie’. Either way they all say the same thing,

“He’s probably cheating on you.”

…Well, I haven’t actually told Druig anything about my relationship, because he gets all worked up about it. Obviously still not liking the idea that I’m dating his sworn enemy (Ugh).

I tell the Loki’s that I would know if something like that was happening and they’re just saying that because they all dislike him for one reason or another. They give me the same unimpressed brow raise and change the subject… It’s kinda creepy how they’re all on the same wavelength. I wish I had that with someone, I know I have Kitty and Jubilee, but ever since Bucky and Jubilee started dating I haven’t seen them around much, and Kitty went to study abroad in Spain so it’s just me… And Druig, but more so just me. I’ve found that the more time I spend with him alone, I tend to get… a little flirty…?

It’s not bad or anything- I mean that’s how our friendship was already, little random touches here and there, nothing too lingering or long, but now it feels like if someone were to see us we’d get in trouble. And the adrenaline rush of it all is… probably not a good thing… But if Druig had a problem with it, he’d tell me to stop, and since he hasn’t it isn’t a big deal. He even messes with me, just like old times. There’s nothing wrong with that, I’ve seen Sprite mess with Ikaris and it was similar to what Druig and I do, just not as… innocent…

Mmmmmm…

… But. I like it. I want it. I crave it…

Am I a horrible person for keeping up this behavior?

…yeah…

Will I stop?

….

…Fuck.

—————————

Tag list: @aquanova99 @tompetersebbuckyhazleo @sokazuallycruel

@treaclesquirrel

So this was long, and a bit heavy, this may or may not have had me in my feelings… lol

Hope you all enjoyed it please comment, like, and reblog ❤️

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Permanent Chaos (4/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of underage drinking

Part Summary: Sam hosts a party and Y/N makes a not-so-great acquaintance of a certain rock star.

Masterlist

Sam’s house is filled with people. I know the majority of the partiers, the rest I can recognize from whatever field of entertainment they’re in. The music is blasting over the speakers and the voices fill the remaining space.

I search around for him. I manage to find him in the family room on the couch. He’s chatting with a group of people, including Penelope. I make my way over, shuffling between bodies. When I appear out from within the crowd, Sam gleams.

“You made it!”

“I did!” I giggle.

We hug and he introduces me to the girl beside him. “Y/N, this is Cara.”

As if I don't know who Cara Delevigne is, I may be busy but I don't live on Mars. I smile at her kindly. “Nice to meet you!”

“You too! I’m a huge fan of your work on TSL!” She gushes, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.

The Seasons of Life is often shortened to TSL, just a side note.

Cara’s accent is so pretty! She’s already a model then she has to have a British accent as if she wasn’t perfect enough!

“Aw, thank you so much!”

Sam slips by me. “I’m going to go get us a drink!”

"Oh wait, Sam!"

“I know what to do!” He shouts back without stopping. I should know better. With how much time we spend together, he would know my order.

“That kid,” I sigh to Penelope and Cara.

The two giggle and we go on to talk about this and that. Fun enough, Cara leaves for Paris tomorrow for a fashion show. Must be exciting to travel so often and to wear the most amazing clothes. She’s quite funny. Her personality is so vibrant and warm. I can see us being good friends.

A loud voice echoes through the house and the three of us look toward the archway to see who it’s coming from. Bodies block the view so I turn my attention back to the girls. Penelope and I discuss the photoshoot in two days and Cara talks about her experiences with Vanity Fair.

“Hey, Cara!” A voice greets behind me.

I don't turn around, but I can feel their energy hovering over me. They shuffle to stand right beside me. I glance up, but can't recognize them.

Cara stands up to hug them. “Good to see you! How are you?” She keeps him in an embrace.

“Great, great!” The guy, who’s back is to me for some reason seems familiar. I can’t quite put my finger on it.

“You know Sam?” She questions as they part.

“Not really, I came with a few friends.”

I look over at Penelope for a hint as to who it could be. She shrugs and watches the two interact.

“Speaking of, have you seen him? I should say hi.” The man asks.

“He went to the kitchen to get a drink for him and Y/N.”

The man turns around and he peers down at me on the couch. I should’ve guessed it… MGK. The hair and a million tattoos should've been a dead giveaway. That bright blonde mess of a hairstyle.

“Colson, this is Y/N Voss,” Cara introduces us.

He glances down at me with a smile. “We’ve met actually,” he claims.

My head tilts, I can’t recall when we've met properly.

“Today after I performed on James’s show,” he describes, towering over me.

“Oh! Awesome!” Cara sits back down next to me.

All I can do is stare at Colson in confusion. “If you count glancing at one another from across the room once as meeting,” I reply a bit snarky.

He gives me a toothy grin and eases down onto the cushion ottoman right across from me. “It was more than one glance,” he argues.

“You would know, you’re the one that never looked away," I fire back.

Cara and Penelope exchange a glance, snicker, then leave the scene together. They offer their goodbye before giggling away. They're smart.

Colson seems to have not noticed or at least doesn’t care. He moves to take Cara's spot on the cushion next to me. “You would’ve had to been looking to have noticed that I never looked away.”

My head rolls back, with a mocking laugh. “Well aren’t you a genius!”

He rests his arm on the back of the couch behind me. “I like to think so.”

“One vodka tonic.” Sam interrupts, holding out my drink.

I take it bitterly. "Thanks."

“Sam huh?” Colson stands up and the two shake hands. “I’m Colson, nice to officially meet you, man!”

Sam treats him like an old friend which annoys the heck out of me. Colson so far has only shown his arrogance to me. “You too! Great seeing you today at the show. Your performance was amazing.”

“Thanks, your interview was hilarious!” Colson fakes charming better than some actors.

“You watched?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I stuck around just off-camera. You two are great!”

Watching these two talk each other up is a bromance waiting to happen.

Sam gestures to me with his glass. “Y/N here is the real comedian. There’s never a dull moment with her."

“I'm sure.” Colson peers down at me with a bright smile. "We’ve only just met and she’s already sparked a debate with me.”

I narrow my eyes at Colson, what’s he trying to start?

Sam settles down on the ottoman where Colson was. “What about?” He is all for the conversation and is jumping headfirst into the tiff between us.

Colson smiles but I see the mischief in his eyes.

“It wasn’t a debate” I rise to my feet in front of the boys. “If you would excuse.” I step away from the couch a little irked.

“Oh come on now Baby, I’m only joking,” Colson calls not bothered.

“Oh no,” Sam laughs behind me. “Best not call her that or any pet names for that matter. She hates them!”

I don’t even acknowledge them on my walk out of the room. Cocky, annoying, ugh! It’s been maybe five minutes and he’s already managed to irritate me. Maybe all the things they write in the tabloids about him are true. A spoiled, arrogant, womanizing jerk. A piece of the worst parts of the industry. I'm going to go find the girls and stay far away from Colson Baker.

________________________________________

On the set of the Vanity Fair shoot, the atmosphere is lively and carefree. The theme is an 80’s vintage style and since it’s coming back the magazine is mixing old with the new. Sam and I are in an old-fashioned record store and it’s wicked! The walls are teal and remind me of an old Taco Bell. There are rows and rows of just vinyl records. My hair is teased in an 80’s rock band kind of hairstyle. 80s music has been playing on set all morning to set the mood. I'm living for it!

A lady approaches me with a huge light wash denim jacket.

“No way! I get to wear this!” I gush.

She helps me put it on and I’m dying from how awesome this shoot is.

I immediately go to Sam's trailer. “Sam! I’m rocking the denim on denim look!” I show off my high-waisted light wash denim shorts with a black bulky leather belt around my waist.

He laughs. “I appreciate the denim on denim but I have to say my favorite part is the old Bon Jovi T.”

The photographer, Adam, comes up with this brilliant idea for me to stand on the crates of records. Where the two rows in the middle of the store meet, there’s enough room for me to stand. Once I’m up there and I can find the balance in these red heels, they have Sam join me.

“Sam, grab her leg and look up at her as though you’re keeping an eye on her,” Adam instructs.

The camera flashes and between snaps, I change my facial features.

“Good! Good! Let’s get some shots from the counter!”

Sam helps me down from the crates and I hop down. We get a shot of me laying across the counter with a red sucker in my hand and Sam hovering over me. This shoot is incredibly fun and I can’t wait to see the finished product.

Sam and I change outfits and Adam asks if he can get a video for the website and YouTube channel. Of course, we said yes. It’ll be a montage of an interview of us individually and then of us just messing around throughout the store with 80’s music playing in the background. Adam has me sit on an 80’s style floral couch they set up in front of a backdrop in the back room. The whole setup is very comfortable and intimate. Only us, a few lights and a camera with the radio playing. Sam is in makeup and dress for the part of the video of us being candid.

“You can sit however you like!” Adam instructs, meaning I’m sitting too formal with my posture straight and legs crossed. “Act like we’re just hanging out or something.”

I adjust myself and crisscross my legs, slouching a bit.

“Much better!” he compliments, staring down at the camera. He hits up on a stool and positions his camera on the stand. “What’s it like to be on the cover of Vanity Fair?”

“The whole experience is unreal! I remember having a subscription to Teen Vogue growing up. My friends and I loved them!”

“Would you describe your style as modern or classic?”

“Classic for sure!” I gush.

Adam snickers. “What’s your favorite decade for fashion?”

I laugh and gesture down at my outfit. “The 80’s.”

“Does anyone from the 80’s inspire your style in particular?”

I tap the tips of my fingers together and hum. “That’s a toughy! I guess I would have to say Demi Moore for the hair. Specifically, her haircut from About Last Night… that’s where I got the style for my hair actually. Another big one would be Cindy Crawford, such a fashion icon!” I could talk about fashion all day and the icons idolize.

“Heels or sneakers?”

“Depends on the occasion. Sneakers for everyday things, I could never live without my trusty Converse. Yet, I would wear heels if I’m dressing it up a bit.”

"Are you more of a girly-girl or tomboy?”

“People who know me well would say I’m a girly-girl but I also don’t mind downplaying it from time to time. I’ve gotten better lately at relaxing and no being so “on” all the time.”

“Hair up or down?”

“Half up, half down,” I wiggle my eyebrows playfully looking into the camera.

Adam chuckles behind the camera. He changes topics. “You’re from South Carolina originally...”

My heart sinks a little at the mention of home, but I hide behind a smile. “That I am.”

“You haven’t been back in almost a year, do you miss it?”

I play with the ends of my hair, examining my lap. Avoiding the camera lens. I look at anywhere but there. “If I were to miss anything about South Carolina, it would be the gorgeous landscape and southern food."

“You have three siblings, correct?” Adam asks next.

“I do, an older brother and sister, then a younger brother.” I list.

“What do they think about the show and your career?”

I nod. “They support me but the distance is hard. As you said, we haven’t all been together in almost a year.”

“Do you have any plans to go visit home soon?”

I sigh, “sadly no, my work keeps me quite busy.”

The interview goes on and we discuss how my style has evolved since I was a teen starting out in the business. I’ll admit, the topics about home and family sucked. Work and personal life are two separate jobs, my worlds can’t collide. I never bring South Carolina into it.

______________________________________________

After the shoot, I received a call from Cara when we were finishing up the photoshoot. Last night, Cara, Penelope, and I had a blast! I completely forgot about the whole tiff with Colson once I reached them in the kitchen. Since then, we’ve been three peas in a pod. While we were talking on the phone, she invited Sam and me to dinner at The Ivy.

“A small gathering of friends,” she told me and asked for us to be there by seven.

Jump ahead to now and Sam is parallel parking the car. I hop out and wait on the sidewalk for Sam to walk around. Our hands' interlock and the paparazzi take notice of us when people on the sidewalk pull out their phones.

“Y/N! SAM! SAM! OVER HERE!”

“HOW’S FILMING GOING?”

“It’s good to be back on set!” I cover my eyes with my clutch.

“YOUR INTERVIEW WITH JAMES CORDEN WAS GREAT!”

“SOCIAL BLEW UP AFTER THE INTERVIEW!”

Sam asks for the guys to make a path so we can get through without issues. He releases my hand and presses his palm to my lower back protectively.

“WE’VE ALREADY SEEN Cara AND PENELOPE GO IN!”

“A FEW PEOPLE ACTUALLY!”

“ARE YOU ALL MEETING UP?”

“Maybe, maybe not!” I look into one of the video cameras and wink.

The guy behind it gets a hoot out of my expression.

Sam and I reach the restaurant and the men let us go in unbothered.

“WE’LL LEAVE YOU ALONE TO YOUR DINNER!”

“Thanks guys, see you later!” I wave to them and their cameras shoot rapidly.

The noise dies down when we go back further into the restaurant. Sam spots Cara in the back and guides me back there. Tables are lined up in a long row and the majority of the seats are filled.

Cara, cool as a cucumber pulls me into a hug. “Hey Y/N! So glad you two could come!” She sits Sam and me across from each other near the middle. She insisted that I sit by her so we could chat. We get to talking about the Vanity Fair shoot today then she’s pulled away when another guest arrives.

The waitress comes up behind me and requests my drink order.

“I’ll have a sweet tea please.”

“We only serve unsweetened.”

I hate it when they say that. “That’s fine, thank you!” Sam eyes me and I pout about having no sweet tea.

“You realize there’s sugar right here.” He slides me the packets of sugar.

“Yes but it’s not the same. There’s sweet tea at every restaurant where I’m from and I come here boom! Sweet tea is nonexistent!”

"What’s the drink that’s carbonated?” He’s asking to be annoying because the west coast and the midwest disagree on the name.

“Pop!” I glare at him.

“That’s right! Pop! Sounds like you’re saying pot every time.” He laughs at his own joke, finding himself humorous.

“It’s soda by the way," he corrects.

“Uh uh,” I refuse to change my ways, “it’s pop.”

The empty chair next to me slides back and when I glance up to see who’s doing it, an instant headache hits my brain.

Sam greets Colson warmly with a handshake. I shoot Sam another glare. He’s acting neutral but that shouldn’t be a choice in this case. He was my friend first!

Colson removes black Ray-Bans from his face and positions them on top of his head.

“Hello Y/N.” Colson sends me one of his charming grins so many teen girls swoon over.

“Hi,” I reply, not attempting to hide my disinterest. I curve my body away from him and towards Cara, legitly giving him the cold shoulder.

The dinner goes on without a hitch surprisingly, considering the circumstances. Penelope leans down over the back of my chair to say our goodbyes.

I turn around in my chair to face her. “See ya tomorrow.”

“See ya,” she rubs her hand up and down my arm.

She and I exchange kisses on the cheek. “Love you!” We say in unison as we part.

“Later Sam!” She wiggles her fingers at him in a wave.

Sam and I stick around a while longer since Cara and I have gotten into a deep conversation about our shared love for vintage things. A conversation about our collections of records alone went on for twenty minutes. I hadn't noticed that it was just four of us now. Sam and Colson have been talking most of the dinner.

A pair of hands rest on my shoulders and steal my attention away from Cara. “Y/N, you ready to go?” Sam asks.

“We’ll head out too!” Cara announces with her sights directed behind me.

I look over my shoulder and Colson is standing beside Sam. The four of us walking out together… how convenient.

I grab my clutch, sticking close to Sam to dodge Colson.

The four of us walk toward the front of the restaurant and right when we reach the steps leading outside, Cara announces that she forgot her purse.

“I’ll be right back!” She urges us to go on without her.

The cameras waited for us as I assumed they would. They’re capturing every minute of us waiting for Cara.

I place my hand on Sam’s shoulder, “would you go help her?”

“You sure?” His eyes flicker between me and Colson.

“I’ll be fine,” I assure him and he promises he’ll only be a second.

“Go to the car so you aren’t bothered,” he refers to the paparazzi.

“I’ll walk her,” Colson offers.

Sam gives him the go-ahead as he goes off to help in the search for the purse.

I’m left with the one guy I was avoiding. I grip the keys in my hand and walk down the brick steps to the sidewalk. I hear Colson behind me and stop to address him. “I can walk myself to the car.”

He raises his arms mocking a surrender. “I don’t doubt your ability to walk, just helping out.”

“I don’t need your help,” I scoff, starting to walk again.

“I never said you did,” Colson sassily replies.

*Click* *Click* *Click*

A man runs around me to get a photo of me straight on.

“Y/N! Y/N! WALKING IN WITH SAM AND LEAVING WITH MGK, ANY EXPLANATION?”

I pause for a moment, making eye contact with the man behind the camera. Is he honestly trying to start drama? What lies are he going to sell? I’m only going to the car because Sam requested. The only reason Colson is even near me is that he’s so freaking persistent.

I push back the aggravation and force my lips into a kind smile. I can’t have a single moment of weakness. I can’t give in to my emotions like others. “Sam is helping Cara with something inside. Colson was kind enough to walk me to the car.”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU GUYS KNOWN EACH OTHER?”

I purposefully answer quickly so Colson doesn’t even have the chance to think of a response. “Not long, we met the other day backstage at The Late Late Show. We have a lot of the same friends and had no idea!” I peek over at Colson and he gives me a knowing look. I dismiss it and go on with my charade. I will not let this jerk mess with my career.

“ANY CHANCE OF HAVING COLSON GUEST STAR ON THE SHOW?”

“That would be great!” I lie my butt off, “having more friends on set would be fun!”

“COLSON, HOW’S YOUR NEW ALBUM COMING ALONG?!”

“We’re in the recording stage right now. Should be released sometime this summer," he answers.

“FOLLOWING UP WITH A TOUR?”

“Of course!” he chuckles.

I unlock the car and move around the guys to reach the door.

“WE’LL LET YOU GUYS GO ON. ENJOY THE REST OF YOUR NIGHT!” One of them departs.

“Thank you! You too!” I wave goodbye.

Some stick behind to get a few last pictures but for the most part, they all disburse. The ones remaining, however, keep their distance.

I yank on the handle of the door and Colson holds it for me. As if he's a gentleman. I begin to climb in, prepared to yank it shut in his face.

“Friends huh?” Colson chuckles.

I turn around abruptly and check around the general area of the sidewalk for any cameras. Seems the remainder of the guys have left. I shut the door and Colson removes his hand in a rush.

“No, not friends! I only said that to please the public," I huff.

“Ouch!” he acts offended, placing his hand on his heart. “I did find it interesting that you claimed we met backstage the other day so I was right!” He chuckles, believing he caught me.

“No, no, no, no!" I shut that thought down quickly. "The only reason I made that up was that it’s not good for my image if I admit I was at a party. People tend to assume that heavy drinking and drugs occur at parties. I can’t be associate with that scene!”

“Oh, so it’s alright to lie?” He crosses his arms and snickers, glancing down the street toward the restaurant.

I roll my eyes, of course, he doesn’t understand, why would he? “You don’t get it” I scoff, dismissing him. I turn and reach for the car handle again.

“So what if you were at a party? People drink, if some have a problem with that, that’s their problem. Oh! I forgot! You're America's Sweetheart! The perfect angel princess with a spotless record,” he mocks.

I slam the car door shut, having hit my limit. I keep my voice hush. “It’s not that simple! I'm not like you! I can't be caught partying! If the country, the world, sees the truth then my image is ruined! I've been doing this since I was a teenager! I worked way too hard for far too long to lose everything over a stupid mistake!”

Colson’s face falters from his usual carefree expression to one of seriousness.

“Found it! Let’s go!” Sam announces loudly to the whole block.

I toss him the keys and glance back to Colson who stands there in a stillness I have yet to see from me. His stare makes me want to hide. I feel as though I’m under a microscope being studied.

“Toodaloo Y/N! ‘Till next time my pals!” Cara strolls down the sidewalk.

It’s evident she’s had a couple of drinks. She sways further down the sidewalk and comes to a stop once she notices Colson isn’t following.

“Later Cara!” Sam shouts over the top of the car behind me.

Colson and I stare at each other I’m guessing for different reasons. He appears lost in thought and I’m desperately trying to figure out why. If I look away, I fear he’ll break to pieces or something.

Cara pauses. “Colson? You coming?”

He holds out for a moment but finally breaks eye contact with me. "Yeah."

When I’m no longer staring into those black works of art I regain my ability to move. I hurry into the car and Sam says his goodbyes again over the top of the car. I buckle my seatbelt when he climbs in. Watching strangers walk up and down the sidewalk, I’m perfectly aware of Sam starring me down.

He pulls onto the street. “Are we gonna talk about it or are we doing silence?”

I reach over and turn up the radio.

“Of course you make your own option.” Sam watches me, waiting for some sort of explanation.

We come in at the end of a song and the next one is oh too recognizable. The classic rock sound that is a part of all of Colson’s music plays through the car speakers. His vocals enter the soundwave and I groan loudly over the music before turning off the radio.

"No music then!" I snap.

__________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa5 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxr @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresix @thysagclub

#mgk smut #mgk fanfic #mgk imagine #mgk #mgk x reader #mgk aesthetic #machine gun kelly #imagine #fanfiction

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ellewriteswrongs · 3 years

Text

layers of love - prinxiety

1.8k words

ao3 / ko-fi / previous work

summary: self-indulgent fluffy prinxiety, very domestic, some shrek references, y'all know the drill

cw: mild swearing, slight innuendo/suggestive dialogue

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Virgil asked from where he laid against his boyfriend’s chest. Roman’s hand stilled as he played with Virgil’s hair.

“Hmm?” He hummed, continuing to rock them with one leg hanging out of their shared hammock. “‘Course you can.”

Virgil made something akin to a purr as he laid in the sun, his hoodie discarded for once.

“When you first said you loved me…was it scary?”

Roman’s brow furrowed at the question, leaning back to try and see the other man’s face.

“Scary? I…I guess I don’t know. I think, in the moment, it just felt right,” he spoke with a soft smile, pausing only to plant a kiss on the other man’s forehead. “But ever since I realized it…every time I thought about saying it, I was terrified.”

When Virgil only shifted, tightening his grip around Roman’s waist, the latter continued.

“I was so worried you’d be freaked out and think I was moving too fast and the last thing I ever wanted was to scare you off, but I…” he trailed off, letting out an amused chuckle. “I was only ever afraid of losing you. Loving you has never scared me.”

Virgil hummed, leaning up to steal a lazy kiss from the corner of Roman’s lips.

“But what about all those stupid stories you like?” He smirked, folding his arms over Roman’s chest as he rested his chin on them. “Quite a bit of pressure there, Princey.”

Roman chuckled, twirling a particular strand of hair around his finger.

“Ahh yes, those stupid fairytales that you make me read to you all the time,” he teased, earning a playful slap on his shoulder. “I’ll have you know, I have more than enough understanding of when dramatic proclamations of my undying love are unwanted.”

Virgil just exhaled a short chuckle, reaching to pull Roman’s hand out of his hair and over to hold it against his cheek, first pressing a kiss into the palm.

“Isn’t that why it’s such a big deal though?” He mused, his eyes half-focused on the beach around them. “Like, isn’t the whole point of falling in love so that something changes once you say it? And…and nothing changed when we said it.”

Roman stiffed a little bit from under him. “Did you…want something to change?”

No. No, of course he didn’t. That was the best part about it.

He told Roman as such.

“I guess I just…always thought something would change, even if we didn’t really want it to,” he explained, closing his eyes as Roman started playing with his hair again. “But I like how we are. How we’ve always been.”

“How we’ve always been? I don’t know about you, stormcloud, but I think things have definitely changed for the better.”

Virgil huffed with a small smile.

“Alright, fine,” he said, his cheeks hot. “I’m glad we changed even if it was just a little.”

Roman chuckled, his chest vibrating comfortingly against Virgil’s head.

“Yeah, I think I like you a little bit more these days, sunshine.”

Virgil scoffed, jabbing Roman’s side with his elbow.

“Thanks, babe," he spoke teasingly. “What glowing praise."

Roman only wrapped both arms around him and squeezed tight, one hand cradling the back of his head and the other holding him by the waist.

"My darling dark and stormy knight,” Roman cooed dramatically, peppering kisses all over his face until the other started laughing. "The angel from my nightmares, oh how I adore you with everything I am."

Virgil smiled, his gaze soft and fond as he looked up at the man he loved.

"Mhm, that's more like it," he smirked, stealing a kiss. "I love you, dork."

Roman bent down to lean their foreheads together.

“What's with all the introspection, my love?"

"Good word, babe."

“Shut up, I'm just worried about you," Roman grumbled, tucking Virgil's head back under his chin.

"You're worried about me? Because I’m talking about being in love with you?" Virgil asked, taking one of Roman's hands to fiddle with his fingers.

"Well, you just don't...talk about it. We both don’t,” Roman explained, his voice vibrating through his chest. "And I'm glad we are, it's just...not what we do."

Virgil smiled, sighing contentedly.

"Nothing's wrong, I promise,” he assured him. "I guess I've just been thinking a lot lately."

"Oh wow, congrats," Roman teased with sarcastic claps.

“Shut up, oh my god,” Virgil complained, not even trying to hide his laughter. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"Alright, alright, I concede," Roman smiled, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

"I just kind of realized that I've been feeling different lately,” he started, causing Roman to immediately stiffen and lean back to see Virgil's face. Virgil smirked, rolling his eyes fondly. “I just told you nothing's wrong, chill babe."

"You telling me to chill out is quite ironic, methinks," Roman teased, relaxing back into the hammock. “It's not my fault you're rubbing off on me, Frank Fear-o.”

Virgil snorted a laugh at the nickname before he continued.

"Ever since we said it, I've just felt... better," he spoke, a soft smile on his face. "I don't even know how to explain it, it's just...better. I get headaches less, when I get anxious, it turns into panic attacks like half as much."

He paused as Roman's lips met his temple.

"And I think the strangest thing is," he spoke, propping himself up on his forearm to look down at his boyfriend

below him. “When you told me you loved me, I didn't doubt it for a second."

Roman gave a short, watery chuckle; his eyes tearing up just a little.

"Even just a year ago, I wouldn't've believed anybody who said that to me but you," he paused, reaching to squish Roman's cheeks with one hand until they both laughed. "I knew you'd never lie to me, but more than anything, I felt it."

He leaned in, intending to only steal a quick kiss before it swiftly escalated.

“Who knew you were such a sap?" Roman teased, breathing heavily as they eventually broke apart.

“Says you, Romeo."

“Oh, I wear that badge with pride, darling," he beamed. "According to Thomas' Twitter, I'm his 'simp' side."

Virgil snorted, laying back down as he leaned into Roman's shoulder.

"Okay, they're definitely right about that one,” he mumbled, ruffling the other’s curly hair affectionately. “I’ve got you wrapped around my finger and you can’t even deny it.”

Roman grabbed one of said fingers and brought it to his lips, planting a dramatic, drawn-out kiss with the most exaggerated noise he could.

“But of course!” He bellowed, earning a fond eye roll from his boyfriend. “For it is my only duty to bestow upon you all of the love one can possibly muster.”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve got a few other duties, babe,” he challenged with a smirk. “Like maybe the concept pitch for the next scripted video that you haven’t done, or the notes for the editors, or the fact that Thomas hasn’t even picked up his ukulele since last year, or—“

“Okay! Okay, fine, I can’t devote my whole life to smothering you forever,” he agreed exasperatedly. “But if I could, I would.”

Virgil chuckled, folding his arms over Roman’s chest and resting his chin on top.

“Hmm, yeah I think I’d hate that.”

Roman gave an almost comical pout, pulling out the puppy dog eyes.

“Nope, absolutely not, you’re not getting me with that shit,” Virgil asserted, trying to maintain a firm tone as he came dangerously close to breaking into a smile. “Smother me twenty-four seven and I’ll dump you on the spot.”

Roman pulled a disbelieving face.

“You really think I’m buying that?” He smirked. “That you’d dump me for spoiling you absolutely rotten with my sweetness.”

He knew full well what he was doing.

“I need my space, princess,” he spoke, putting on a suave tone that he knew he wasn’t pulling off by the giggles that came from his boyfriend. “I gotta’ keep up the aesthetic.”

Roman brought Virgil’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Alright, alright, I respect the commitment,” he spoke, punctuated by kisses from Virgil’s hand up to his shoulder. “It’s so tragic that Mr. Misery Business would rather brood than swoon.”

“Who says I can’t have both?” He grinned. “I’m multi-faceted these days, babe. I have layers.”

Roman snorted a laugh, ducking his head right by Virgil’s ear.

“Layers,” he spoke with a heavy Scottish accent, his hands squeezing Virgil’s sides. “Onions have layers. Ogres have layers. We both have layers.”

“Oh my god,” Virgil cackled with laughter. “I hate it. I hate you, never speak to me again.”

Roman smirked, unfazed.

“But Virgil, that’s what friends do, they forgive each other.”

“One more word and you’re not getting any kisses for the rest of the week.”

“It’s already Friday.”

“Well, I don’t exactly want to punish myself in the process.”

Roman flushed a little at the rare admittance of affection.

“You think you couldn’t go a full week without any kisses?”

“I mean,” Virgil spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t exactly want to find out.”

He answered with a chaste kiss to the other man’s temple. “I guess the world may never know.”

“If Logan were here right now, he’d probably try to get us to find out.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I never listen to the ol’ poindexter anyways,” Roman grinned, quirking an eyebrow.

“Ahh, yes, my favorite thing about you,” Virgil teased with a sly smirk. “How you’d rather be eternally petty than have an ounce of rational thought in that pretty little head of yours.”

Roman gave an offended scoff.

“You know what, I’m just going to ignore everything you just said in favor of the fact that you called me pretty,” he defended with a humph.

“Oh, you like that?” Virgil continued teasing. “As if you don’t already know you're pretty.”

Roman feigned his innocence.

“I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea, darling. Perhaps you’ll have to enlighten me on what you find so appealing,” he drawled, his voice syrupy sweet in a way that would’ve made Virgil weak in the knees if they weren’t currently lying on top of each other. “My cute button nose? Thick, wavy locks? Maybe my taut, round buttocks?”

Virgil barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes with fond exasperation.

“Pull another Shrek quote out of that ass and I’ll see to it that you won’t be able to sit for a week—a full week.”

Roman froze, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Is…is that a threat or a promise?”

Virgil just groaned, shoving him until the hammock teetered and he panicked, clinging back onto the other man. “You’ve been spending too much time with your brother.”

“You may be right, but this is certainly more fun, I must admit,” he sighed happily.

“Just shut up and take a nap, princess.”

“As you wish, my love.”

#prinxiety #my work #my writing #ts prinxiety #ts roman #ts virgil #sanders sides #tss #tss virgil #tss roman #sanders side fic #roman sanders #virgil sanders

146 notes · View notes

kindahoping4forever · 3 years

Text

When The Sun Came Up, You Were Looking At Me (Prologue) // Ashton Irwin

It really cannot be overstated how excited @cal-puddies and I are for you all to finally start reading this fic!! I searched our chat and we actually came up with the skeleton idea for this sequel only TWO DAYS after Remember When We Couldn’t Take The Heat was posted LAST APRIL and we started seriously writing in SEPTEMBER. This is a long time coming. We hope you love it as much as we do and thank you again for encouraging us to continue this story!

Don’t forget we’re alternating chapters so the story continues tomorrow over on Cass’s blog. And of course, you can find links to everything as it’s posted in the masterlist linked below!

Warnings: Tension, both dramatic and sexual. Mild angst. Meddling but well-meaning friends. The first smut-free work Cass and I have ever written together (don’t worry, we more than make up for it the rest of the series lmao)

Word Count: 3455

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist // Series Masterlist

Let us know what you think!

The traffic light changes to green and you turn down Luke and Sierra’s street. You roll your eyes at the quickening of your pulse as you think about the party tonight; you’d give anything to skip it but you know Michael and Crystal really want you there and you can’t not show up for them.

You feel your nerves settle a bit as you step out of the car and see Sierra waiting at the door for you, happy to have you over to get ready together. She grins wide and pulls you into a warm hug, Luke quickly coming over to engulf you as well. Their excited greetings overlap as they literally smother you with affection and you can’t help but laugh at the fuss they’re making.

“You always disappear for too long,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

“Just needed some space,” you say with a shrug.

“You broke up with Ash, not us,” Sierra reminds you, squeezing your arm.

“I know, I know,” you nod with a weak smile.

Luke grabs the bag with your dress in it and takes it to their room while you and Sierra get a drink. “Thank god you’re letting me pre-game,” you joke.

“How are you feeling about everything?” She asks as you head back with her.

“Just doin’ my best to be OK,” you admit, without even thinking about Luke overhearing. “It was like… close to an entire year of my life you know? I know it doesn’t seem like much... I just wasn’t ready, you know? And I’m definitely not ready for tonight.”

Sierra sits on the bed, listening as you sit at her vanity, absentmindedly looking over the beauty products on it. “It was such an intense relationship, it makes sense you’re not over it yet, babe,” she points out gently.

“I should be over it, though, it was ridiculous. Our whole relationship was based on a foundation of fighting until we fucked to forget why we fought… it didn’t work, we never really communicated about anything.”

“Well. You already know I’m not a fan of how the breakup went down,” she shakes her head, plugging in the curling iron you’ve been gesturing wildly with. “It’s been a couple months now, you guys still haven’t even texted?”

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “Please, we are the king and queen of Stubborn Town, I haven’t seen or heard from that man since I got the last of my stuff from his place,” you shrug. “I guess it still just feels… unfinished. I hate that.”

“I mean, it feels unfinished because you guys left it that way,” she says matter of factly. “You both decided you were done and then just… were? When you love someone, walking away like that doesn’t work.”

“I never said I loved him,” you glare at her through the mirror.

She settles behind you and starts sectioning off your hair. “Never said you didn’t either,” she teases.

Before you know it, 45 minutes have passed and Luke is at the door warning that he’s about to call the Uber; you’re deep into your girl talk catch-up and the knock on the door causes you both to burst into shrieks and giggles, scurrying around the room to finish getting ready.

Miraculously, you get yourselves together in time and as you stand in front of the house waiting for the car to arrive, Luke nudges you gently. “Ash is coming from a meeting on the other side of town, so you’ve got time to relax, he won’t be there for a while,” he reassures you. “And if you feel like you need to leave, let us know and we’ll come up with a reason to swoop you outta there.”

You put your arms around him and squeeze. “I’ve missed you too,” you say with a smile.

Luke tells you and Sierra how nice you both look as he ushers you inside the party. They both watch you scan the room, relaxing once you see Ashton hasn't arrived and then you all break off, making the rounds.

You greet a few people but end up hanging off to the side, keeping an eye on the door, nervously half-paying attention to anyone who happens to approach you.

You immediately tense when he enters. Luke moves to welcome him while Sierra comes to you, trying to be a silent support; her babysitting goes from feeling comforting to coddling very quickly and you urge her to go back to mingling.

You try not to stare but you can’t help it, you haven’t seen him in so long. Even before you were together, when you hated him, it was hard not to be drawn to him. He just has that kind of presence.

Luke hasn’t left his side since he walked in, chatting away, but you don’t think anything of it. That is, until everyone seems to be finding their place at the various tables and you’re still awkwardly standing to the side. You would typically sit with Luke and Sierra but they’ve made themselves cozy at a table with Ashton and Calum.

You head for the bar and before you can order, someone comes up beside you. You ignore them until you hear the soft “Hey” fall from his lips, in that lush, slightly accented voice you missed more than you’d care to admit.

You turn, fully taking him in for the first time tonight; his hair is different than the last time you saw him and he really seems to be feeling himself in his black pants and the lace button-up you used to make fun of. “Hi,” you respond, so quiet that Ash has to lean in to be sure he heard you.

“Grab your drink and come sit with us,” he says, waving encouragingly.

“Uh… that’s OK. I might leave,” you shrug.

He snorts, rolling his eyes at your ridiculous suggestion. “No you won’t. First of all, I know you came with Luke and Sierra and they’re not leaving. Second of all, you’d never let Crystal and Mike down like that. Just come sit,” he insists, gently tugging on the hem of your dress.

You melt a little inside. This was one of the reasons you liked him so much, he was always so confident that he knew you so well. But it’s also one of the reasons why you fought and he drove you crazy.

“Fine,” you sigh with a slight smile. He waits for you to order your drink, also making you crazy, like he can’t trust you’ll do as you say.

“There you are!” Sierra smiles as you take the seat across the table from her and Luke. Sitting between Calum and Ashton is a spot you were very familiar being in; they’d constantly lean over you to share a joke and then one of them would fill you in afterwards if you were lucky. Your heart breaks a little when you realize that's not likely to happen now.

You make small talk with Cal for a bit; you’ve missed his pinchable cheeks and his sweet laugh. You’d spent plenty of time with him when you were with Ashton but hadn’t really kept in touch since the split. He asks you about work and both he and Ash pay close attention as you chat about your job.

Sierra keeps a close eye on the two of you and notices how quickly you get reacquainted. The way Ash naturally rests his arm on the back of your chair. How when he started getting animated with a story, you knowingly shifted all the drinks over until he was finished. How he won’t let himself laugh at his own joke until he checks to make sure you’re laughing first. The hair toss you subconsciously give whenever he does make you laugh.

Later on, she catches him at the refreshment table serving your favorite dessert onto his plate even though it’s something he notoriously doesn’t like. She walks alongside him as he heads back. “You hate that,” she smirks, pointing at the offending dish.

“Oh. Right,” he says, realizing the old habit he just indulged. “She’ll eat it,” he shrugs, quickening his step to avoid any follow-up questions.

Crystal makes the rounds to thank everyone for coming and stops Sierra with a hug; they chat for a minute but Crystal notices she seems distracted and eventually follows her gaze over to your table. Cal’s deeply invested on his phone, leaving you and Ash chatting by yourselves.

Crystal lightly snorts and leans in to her friend. “What’s old is new again, I guess,” she cups her manicured hand over her mouth to disguise her words. “You think they’ll leave together? I was shocked when she told me they haven’t hooked up even once since they split.”

Sierra shakes her head firmly. “They’re both too stubborn to admit they want even that from each other,” she rolls her eyes. “You should’ve seen how nervous she was to come here tonight.”

“Oh, Ash too,” Crystal whispers. “Ever since we planned this, Michael must’ve gotten at least 5 texts from him casually trying to find out if she was coming.”

Sierra sips her drink, never taking her eyes off your table. “It ended so badly, I can’t get over how comfortable they are with each other… there’s still just so much love there.”

Crystal shrugs. “Well god bless them but think of how long it took them to actually get together,” she points out. “I wouldn’t hold my breath for them to figure out that they called it off too soon.”

You make light conversation with Ashton, trying to ignore the girls’ gabfest you see out of the corner of your eye; they were both supportive but clearly distraught when you told them about the breakup so you know they’ve got to be eating this up.

Calum announces he’s stepping away for a cigarette and you and Ash pick at your plates in silence for a few minutes, suddenly feeling the weight of having to interact without a buffer. Finally, he offers up a quiet, “You’ve been good?”

You answer perhaps a little too quickly, nod perhaps a little too vigorously, eager to mask any implication of hurt feelings. “Yep. Busy. But good.”

He fiddles with the tablecloth. “You know... I meant to call sometime but it never felt right and then things got crazy with the band…”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “I didn’t check in either. Didn’t think you’d answer,” you laugh weakly.

He smiles and you hate how warm you feel at the sight. “Why did I always assume you were a ‘fuck that guy, delete his number as soon as you’re out the door’ kind of ex?”

Your heart sinks and you’re not sure why; it takes you a moment to realize it’s because this is the first time you’ve actually thought of yourself as “his ex.” You steady yourself. “Usually am. Decided to be mature on this one. You’re still at the top of my contacts. Listed under ‘Asshole,’ obviously,” you giggle.

“Ah, my favorite of your pet names,” he laughs along with you.

You talk for a few more minutes until Crystal makes her way over; Ash slips away while the two of you catch up and shortly after, you get a text from Luke asking if you’re ready to go. Your eyes scan the room though you aren’t sure what exactly you’re searching for, because you’re totally fine leaving without saying goodbye to Ashton.

You're quiet on the ride back to Sierra and Luke’s and while you collect your things from their bedroom, she gently checks in.

“See, tonight wasn’t so bad,” she muses.

“No, it was OK. Good to see everyone,” you shrug. “...Ash looks healthy.”

“He looks good,” Sierra says pointedly. You say nothing.

“You sure you’re good to drive?” Luke asks, coming into the room and sitting next to his girlfriend on the bed. “You know you’re always welcome to stay here.”

“I’m fine, Luke,” you chuckle. You turn and hug them both. “I love you both, I’ll text when I’m home.” They respond by kissing the top of your head and you chuckle fondly as you leave.

“They seemed OK tonight,” Luke mentions while they get ready for bed.

“They were more than OK, those stubborn kids couldn’t have been more into each other,” Sierra rants. “I think they really miss it, they just won’t admit it.”

“Oh, Ash definitely misses her. I swear, he talked about her less when they were together,” he jokes. Sierra raises an eyebrow, which Luke takes as encouragement to continue rambling about everything Ash had told him. “He knows they fought a lot but he even misses that... he’s been saying he’s glad he never told her he loved her, though. Things would’ve been a lot harder. Messier. I dunno, he’s always asking about her.”

You get home and drop your bag right inside the door with a huge, exhausted sigh and pull out your phone to text Luke and Sierra before heading to your room. You throw open the closet and it only takes you a couple seconds to spot what you’re looking for: that hoodie that Ash left behind and you never bothered to return.

You stare at it for a beat and then leave to wash your face and brush your teeth; you already know what you’re about to do but you still try to talk yourself out of it. Back in the bedroom, you reluctantly grab the hoodie off of its hanger, change into it and climb into bed. You hold the sleeves to your face and breathe Ashton in; long, deep breaths, letting his smell fill your nostrils. You’ve done this more times than you’d care to admit these past few months; you miss him here, in your space. You curl in a ball and drift off, taking comfort in his scent surrounding you.

You’re woken up early by your phone buzzing on the nightstand. You see it’s Sierra and pick it up, groaning, making sure she can hear it. “S?”

“Hey babe… can we lunch?” She bubbles.

“You couldn’t have texted?”

“Sorry, Sunshine, just wanted to hear your lovely voice… and get a definite answer out of you. 1 o’clock, don’t be late!” She sing-songs, hanging up.

You check your notifications and your heart sinks, not seeing anything from Ashton. You weren’t sure why you thought you would. You curl up and go back to sleep for a while.

Sierra knows you well enough to guess you fell back asleep without setting an alarm and she starts blowing you up around noon. You text that you’ll see her soon and you start getting ready. You use the most fragrant soap you can find for your shower, ensuring the smell of Ashton's cologne doesn't linger on your skin.

You walk into your usual lunch place and easily spot Sierra on the patio. "Drinks are on their way," she shares as you take your seat.

You chat breezily about the party: how good the food was, how Michael's DJ setup was so much more elaborate than at the last party you attended, how much you loved what Crystal had worn. You wonder out loud if Cal had gone home with the girl he'd been making eyes at all night and Sierra seizes the opportunity to steer the conversation to her topic of choice.

"Speaking of making eyes," she takes a prolonged sip from her glass. "Things seemed a little intense with Ash last night."

You give her a tight-lipped smile, determined not to give her anything she can blow out of proportion. "I told you it was fine. Easier than I expected in a lot of ways, harder in others."

She places her hand on your arm from across the table. "I looked over a few times and saw him with his arm over your chair, you watching him talk… it was like we were back at that resort again," she says wistfully.

You evaluate her face for a moment. Since she's one of your best friends, you're used to being lovingly annoyed with her meddling in your life but sometimes you forget that it comes from a place of genuine love and concern for you. "Regardless of how things turned out, I'll always be grateful you forced me to stay on that trip," you smile. "That was some once in a lifetime kind of shit."

"From what I heard down the hall, sure sounded like it," she teases, grinning as you playfully shoo her hand off your arm. "That anniversary's coming up quick, isn't it?"

"Next week," you blurt, wincing at how quickly you answer.

"We'll have to think of something fun to do together," she declares carefully. "Not that you need it, but just in case you don't want to be alone."

This time you reach over and squeeze her hand. "I'm sorry I haven't been around like I used to, S. I just… needed time," you admit. "It's still hard. Most of the time, actually. But being around you and Lu again feels good. I think I need the support more than I realized."

"Babe," she pouts. "We were there for you before Ash, during Ash and we want to be there for you post-Ash. We love you."

You feel better than you thought you would as you head back to your car. Being honest with Sierra - and yourself - was easier than you expected. You briefly think about texting Ash - nothing major, something chill like "fun catching up last night" - but think better of it.

Sierra gets to her car and immediately texts Crystal, who requested an update when she heard you were getting lunch. She suggests asking Cal’s perspective to get the full picture of where Ash is at, so Sierra calls him on the drive home.

“Hey Sweet Boy!” She greets him.

“Sierra!” She can hear the grin on his face at the nickname. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you how Ash is. I mean, I know what Luke tells me but I feel like he gives you more,” she explains.

“How do you mean? You saw him last night?”

“How has he been since the breakup?” She emphasizes.

“Oh… OH!! Oh! What are you planning? Please tell me you’re doing something, he’s making me crazy. I don’t know what came over him last night,” Cal babbles.

“I think Luke had a hand in that,” Sierra admits with a sigh. “She came over to get ready with me and I think he probably shared some things he shouldn’t have. You know how he is.”

“What’s in that beautiful brain of yours?” Cal murmurs, letting out an excited little laugh. Out of everyone, he tends to enjoy Sierra’s plans like this the most, especially when they aren’t directed toward him.

“I don’t know yet… I feel like we just need to get them talking alone again like they were last night, remind them what was there...” she muses. She talks through a few ideas with Calum and he’s on board for any of them.

By the time she gets home, Sierra is raring to go; she practically runs up the stairs to ask Luke for his help.

“Hey hun!” He greets her with a smile when she raps on the door to his studio. He moves the guitar off his lap, silently inviting her to come lay on the couch while they talk. “How was lunch, how’s our girl?”

She fills him in on everything: your mood, your conversation and the consulting she’s been doing among the friend group. Luke seems interested but about halfway through becomes engrossed in his phone and Sierra sits up, irritated. “Babe, you asked, are you even listening?”

He briefly looks concerned and then grins. “Sorry, just distracted by Ash blowing up the group chat, asking if anyone wants to go away next week so he doesn’t have to deal with their anniversary,” he proudly holds up his phone.

Her jaw drops at the opportunity that’s fallen at their feet. “What if…” She starts furiously typing into her phone. “Yes… that house you guys stayed at when you were planning the last album is free.”

“Palm Springs? OK, so…” Luke trails off, trying to follow her logic.

“Band retreat for the boys. Self-care trip for the girls,” she answers, shooting off texts to Crystal, Mike and Cal.

“That house really isn’t big enough for all of us,” he comments, still lost.

She finally looks up at him, smiling widely. “It’s a good thing they’ll be the only ones going, then.”

————-

Taglist is breaking the links in the post and I currently do not have the brainpower to figure out the problem lol. We’ll try again tomorrow but in the meantime, if you aren’t notified, you can always check the masterlist which will be updated everyday!

@mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @loveroflrh @ghostofmashton @sexgodashton @feliznavidaddycal

@castaway-cashton @ashtonlftv @cashtonasfuck @megz1985 @angelicfluffs @findingliam-o @youngbloodchild @irwinsbetch @everyscarisahealingplace

@wiildflower-xxx @metalandboybands @realisticnotes @makeamovehemmings @golden166 @burstintocolor

@youngblood199456 @notinthesameguey @seanna313 @zhangyixingxing1 @stardust-galaxies @zackoid

@lovelybonesetc @xsongxbirdx @justhereforcalum @ashtonangst

@laura66sos @calumrose @karajaynetoday @jazzyangel242 @babylon-corgis @heyheyhaleyd @calmsweetcreature

@spicycal @talkfastromance4 @holystxne

@meetmedowntown @myloverboyash

@irwindoll @carrielfisher @lukedorkyhemmings @creampiecashton @lovelywordsblog

@trix-arent-for-kids @uh-huhh-honey @tobefalling @aladyofalbion @likehuhdude

@curlycalums @cxddlyash

@fedorable-killjoys @iamcalumswhore @i-like-5sos

@aquarius-hood1996 @babylonashton

@begluketostay @mateisit-balsamic

@crazyforcal @neso-k @deliciouslydisturbed365 @blxndeprincess

#5sos smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fic #ashton smut #5 seconds of summer smut #smut #Kindahoping4forever #cal-puddies #cass & Crystal #the dream team 🦦🦦#When The Sun Came Up You Were Looking At Me #Feedback is appreciated #buckle up y'all this is going to be a WILD ride #Thank you for reading and we'll see you tomorrow!

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leossmoonn · 3 years

Text

Belle of The Ball [Kol Mikaelson]

masterlist

pairing - kol mikaelson x fem,gilbert!reader

type - fluff

note / request - “since your TO requests are open can i request a kol fic where the reader is a gilbert and is kinda shy and kol invites her to the mikaelson ball” enjoy!

summary - the middle child of the mikaelson family takes interest in you and invites you to the mikaelson ball

warnings / includes - your jeremy’s twin, mild language, kissing, suggestive flirting, underage drinking (drink safely), mention of sex

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“I think Connor likes you,” your friend, Karina, nudged you.

You looked over to the cute, brunette boy that was staring at you from across the hallway. “Yeah, right,” you muttered.

“I’m serious! Oh, look! He’s coming to ask you out!” Karina squealed.

You looked away from your locker, straightening up as Connor was approaching you. He flashed you a charming smile.

“I’m gonna go. Meet me by your car!” Karina smiled.

“No! Rina!” You whisper-shouted.

Your attention was turned to Connor as he stood in front of you.

“Hey, Y/n,” he greeted. “Hey… Connor,” you smiled shyly.

“I wanted to ask you a question,” he said, leaning against the lockers.

“Y-Yeah, go ahead,” you nodded. He smiled at your nervousness, moving closer to you.

His scent filled your nostrils and you felt yourself going dizzy. You leaned against the lockers, hoping it would help you not trip and fall.

“So, I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me at Mystic Grill. We can get dinner then go back to my place and watch a movie,” Connor suggested.

Your eyes widened. You were pleasantly surprised. You had liked Connor since school had started, which was a few months ago. You had been trying to get him to notice you, which was going horribly until now. You were way too shy to go up to say anything to him. You guessed that Karina had something to do with him asking you out.

“Um, Earth to Y/n?” Connor asked, waving his hand in front of your face.

“Huh?” You blinked rapidly. You looked at him, getting even more embraced and shy when you realise you got lost in your own thoughts. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m just um… not really used to people asking me out, you know? I’ve never really been on a date before. My Aunt Jenna used to say that was okay since I’m only in junior year and stuff, but my brother has already had sex with Vicki Donovan and my sister is already on her second boyfriend. It’s kinda sad how un-loveable I am and-”

You were cut off by Connor chuckling. You cussed yourself out in your head for being so awkward.

“I’m sorry, again. I ramble a lot, too,” you apologised.

“It’s not worries. It’s really cute. You’re really cute. Anyways, what do you say? Come with me to Netflix and chill?” Connor asked.

You smiled, opening your mouth to respond, but you were rudely interrupted.

“She has plans Friday. Sorry, mate,” an all-too familiar Australian accent sounded behind you.

You clenched your jaw and balled your fists. You turned your head, glaring.

“Kol, go away,” you said through gritted teeth.

“No can do, darling. Jeremy asked me to watch over you,” Kol smiled.

“Uh, who’s this guy?” Connor asked. You turned back to him. “Oh, just a uh… family friend. Don’t mind him, he’s super annoying.”

“Actually, do mind me. I’m here to pick Y/n up. Elena wants you home, now,” Kol said.

“Oh. Well, if you need to be home, go ahead,” Connor said.

You sighed, “Yeah, um, I do. But it’s a yes to the date.”

Connor smiled widely. “Awesome! I’ll pick you up at 8.”

“Great! Can’t wait,” you smiled sweetly.

Connor walked away, leaving you grinning from ear-to-ear.

“You can do so much better, Y/n,” Kol said.

You rolled your eyes, turning 180 to him. “Go away, Kol. I know for a fact that Jeremy and Elena didn’t tell you to watch over me.”

“Hm, true. That was just an excuse,” Kol smiled.

“An excuse for what?” You asked. “Well, I needed and excuse to talk to you,” Kol shrugged.

You sighed, going back to your locker and grabbing your textbooks. “About what?” You asked.

“Well, I know my family hasn’t made it easy for any of you, so we are throwing a ball! My mother’s idea, really. We are allowed to bring dates and I’d like to bring you,” Kol explained.

You started to feel all flustered. “Uh… Wh-Why?”

“Because I like you, Y/n. I think you’re cute, funny, and all the good parts of a woman. I’d like you to ditch that Connor-nobody and be my plus one!”

You slammed your locker shut, walking away from Kol.

“Y/n, darling! You never answered me!” Kol exclaimed, trying to catch up with you.

“Yeah, I did that on purpose,” you muttered, knowing he could hear you because of his vamp hearing.

“You are so rude. I take it your parents didn’t teach you any manners? Not like they can teach you them now,” Kol joked.

You scoffed, not believing what you were hearing. “Like you can talk. And plus, why would I want to go to the ball with a jerk like you?”

You waked out of the school, spotting Karina over at your car.

“Y/n, wait!” Kol called out, reaching out to grab your wrist.

“What!” You exclaimed, turning to him.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean that, but I really do want you to accompany me to the ball,” Kol said, staring you right in the eyes.

You stared at him for a few moments, your eyes flickering down to his lips. Once you noticed him smirk, you looked away, pulling your wrist away from his grip.

“I appreciate the invitation, but I’m going out with Connor,” you mumbled.

Kol sighed, “Fine. But if you reconsider, it’ll be at our house.”

“Thanks,” you said, looking up at him through your lashes. “I need to go, okay? My friend is waiting for me.”

“Alright. I hope you reconsider, Y/n. I’d be a shame if I didn’t have a date,” Kol said.

“As if you can’t get anyone you want,” you rolled your eyes.

“But I only want you,” Kol admitted.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. As much as you wanted to stay and ask him if he really did want you, you knew you’d end up a blubbering mess. And you definitely didn’t want to be like that in front of a devastatingly handsome Original vampire.

“I gotta go,” you murmured, turning away and stomping off to Karina.

“Hey, who’s that?” Karina asked once you approached.

“Oh um… An annoying friend of Jeremy,’s” you lied, running your fingers through your hair.

“Hm, well he’s hot,” Karina bit her lip, looking at Kol who was still where you left him.

You rolled your eyes and started to twiddle with your fingers. “No, he’s not.”

Karina narrowed her eyes at you, gasping in realisation.

“What?” You asked, full of confusion. “You like him!” Karina grinned.

You scoffed, “Hell no.”

“Hell, yes! You’re doing that thing you do when you talk about a guy you like,” Karina giggled, pointing to your hands.

You looked down and sighed, putting your arms to your sides. “I do that when I’m nervous.”

“Oh, yeah? Are you nervous about Mr. Hottie?” Karina wiggled her eyebrows.

“No. I’m nervous because Connor asked me out this Friday,” you explained.

“Oh, my God! Babe, that’s awesome!” Karina squealed, jumping up and down, clapping while doing so.

“Thanks, I know,” you smiled sheepishly. “Well, what day is it? Wednesday, right? We need to shop!” Karina exclaimed.

“No, no! I'll just wear jeans and a cute top. There’s no need to shop,” you said.

“Have you seen your closet? You only have one cute flora top and a pair of black baggy jeans. The rest of your closet are sweats and sweatshirts. You don’t even have any date-appropriate dresses!” Karina said.

“Not true!” You protested weakly.

“Mhm,” Karina said, pursing her lips. You rolled your eyes, knowing she was right.

“Fine, but we are only going to buy one outfit. ONE,” you said, holding up your first finger.

“I’ll take it! Wanna go now?” Karina asked.

“Sure,” you nodded. “Yay! We can get lunch at the Grill, too,” Karina suggested, opening the passenger door of your car.

“Alright,” you nodded, going over to the driver’s seat.

You drove to the outlet mall, parking in front of the shop. Karina and you walked inside, Karina immediately pulling you to the jeans section.

“God, I hate jeans,” you muttered. “Why?” Karina asked.

“Because they’re tight and I have to jump to get them on,” you explained.

“Well, that’s just because you have a nice ass,” Karina smiled.

You smiled, “Yeah, right.” “I’m serious! Your figure is to die for! I’m jealous, honestly,” Karina said in a sincere tone.

You chuckled, “Thanks, Rina.”

“Of course. Now, let’s see what jeans they have. Do you want black, dark wash, or light wash?” Karina asked.

“Dark wash,” you answered. “High-waisted or low-waisted?” Karina asked.

“(Your choice),” you said.

Karina pulled out two pairs of jeans, handing them to you. “Now, for the shirts! Do you want a ruffled top, knot front, or button-up?”

“Um, ruffled, I guess,” you said. “Alright… Well, I know you like plaid… So, what about this one?” Karina pulled out a black and white top that was cropped. It was long sleeved, the sleeves ruffled slightly. The bottom of the shirt was stretchy and the top had buttons.

“Wow, this is really cute. Simple, too. I like it,” you smiled.

“I knew you would! Now, go try it on,” Karina said, going over to the changing rooms.

You put on your cloths, buttoning up the top and turning around to the mirror. You raised your brows, surprised by how good you looked.

“You done?” Karina called out from outside.

“Yeah,” you said, going out of the dressing room.

“You look so pretty. Y/n. The jeans highlight your figure perfectly!” Karina exclaimed.

“Yeah,” you smiled, “And the top isn’t as cropped as I thought it would be.”

“I am amazing at dressing you! Maybe I should become a professional dresser?” Karina said.

You chuckled, “You should. Well, I think I’ll get this. I’m not interested in shopping anymore and I’m hungry.”

“Alright, well, I have some things I want to try on. So, give me 15 minutes tops and get us a table at the Grill,” Karina said, holding up the clothes she found.

“Sounds good,” you said. You went back behind the door and changed out of your clothes. You paid for your outfit, walking out and going to the Grill.

You got yourself seated quickly.

“Y/n, hey!” Matt exclaimed. “Oh, hey, blue eyes,” you grinned.

“How have you been?” Matt asked. “Good! How about you?” You asked.

“I’ve been good, thanks. How is Elena?” Matt asked.

You chuckled, “Elena is good. I’ll tell her you asked about her.”

“Alright, sounds good. So, I heard Connor Askren asked you out,” Matt said.

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled happily. “Good for you. I have to warn you, though, be careful,” Matt said.

“Be careful about what?” You asked. “Well, Connor has a reputation of asking girls out then bailing on them,” he explained.

“Oh,” you frowned. “Well, he seemed really excited to ask me out.”

“I'm sure he was. I’m just saying. You’re like a little sister to me. I don’t want you getting hurt,” Matt explained.

You smiled gratefully. “Thanks, big bro.”

“No problem. Anyways, are you here alone or is Karina with you?” He asked.

“She’s with me. She’s at the clothing store. I just came from there, hence the bag,” you said, holding up your shopping bag.

“Ah right. Let me guess, she wanted to try some stuff on and she let you go?” Matt asked.

“Yep,” you laughed. “That’s what Caroline does. So, do you want to get started with a drink or anything?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, sure. Can I get a Diet Coke, chicken tenders, and cheese fries?” You asked.

“Coming right up. Do you know what Karina would want?” Matt asked.

“She’ll probably want lemonade, a chicken wrap, and onion rings,” you said.

“Alright. Be right back,” Matt smiled.

You gave him a goodbye wave. You sighed once he left, looking at your shopping bag. You would be lying if you said you were’t worried about Connor. You hoped that he was different than what Matt told you.

————

Friday came sooner than expected. You were currently at home and getting ready for your date. Karina had helped you with your makeup, putting eyeliner on you and letting you borrow her lipstick. You were strapping on your heels when Karina told you she was leaving.

“Text me if you two kiss,” Karina winked.

“Highly doubt we will, but noted,” you smiled.

“Alright, I’m gonna go. You look amazing, Y/n. Have fun!” Karina hugged you before leaving. “Thanks,” you giggled as you shut the door.

You looked at your phone, seeing it was 7:57. You smiled nervously, grabbing your purse and waiting at the door. The 3 minutes passed by slowly. It was soon 8 and he wasn’t there yet. You shrugged it off, knowing that he would probably be there in a minute or two. But as you waited, 2 minutes passed, 5, 10, and 20. Each time you checked your phone, your hope in Connor disappeared and your fear of what Matt said becoming true increased. Once it reached 8:30, you realised that Connor wasn’t coming and he had in fact stood you up.

You stomped off to your room, tears falling down your cheeks.

“God! How stupid are you, Y/n? Thinking a guy like Connor would want to go out with you? A football player? A guy with one of the highest GPA’s? Fat chance,” you sobbed to yourself.

You took off your heels and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, smudging all the makeup that Karina had done. You took off your clothes, slipping into sweats and a tank top. You washed your face of all the makeup, going into your kitchen. You went to go and get some chocolate, but someone interrupted you.

“Don’t look so glum, Y/n. Connor is an ass.” You turned around sharply, surprised to see Rebekah there.

“I… Rebekah, what are you doing here?” You asked rudely.

“I’m here to give you your dress and get you ready for the ball!” Rebekah smiled.

“I’m not going,” you mumbled, going back to getting your food.

Rebekah sped to you, grabbing your wrist. “Yes, you are. I don’t like you very much. I don’t like any of your family, but Kol seems to have taken an interest in you. I have no idea why, but I just got my family back and want to make everyone happy.”

“Well, I don’t like Kol. So you can tell him to shove off,” you said.

“Hm… No,” Rebekah grinned. “C’mon, you’re going to the ball whether you like it or not. Your sister and brother will also be there.”

“Another reason not to go,” you stated.

“Oh, please! If you don’t go I am sure Kol will kill Elena and Jeremy,” Rebekah said.

“No! I… I don’t want to. Kol doesn’t even like me. He just likes to piss off all my friends,” you said.

“Y/n, look at me,” Rebekah said. You looked at her dully.

“Kol likes you. Hell, I think he’s in love with you. All he talks about it you and quite frankly, it’s sickening, but a little heartwarming to see him care so much for someone. So, please, come to the ball. If you want to leave after a little bit, I’ll make sure you go without any issue. But just try it out,” Rebekah begged.

Your heart fluttered once you heard Kol might be in love with you. If you were completely honest, you had a little crush on Kol. How couldn’t you? He was charming, handsome, and even nice to you. You never pursued the crush because one, you were too shy for that. And two, you knew your family would kill you. But you knew Rebekah would just kidnap you and take you there, even if you said no again, so you deciding to say yes.

“Fine, I’ll go. But don’t expect me to have fun,” you mumbled.

Rebekah took her hand off your wrist, smiling widely. “Great! Let’s go and get you ready, we’re late.”

You nodded and went back to your room. Rebekah sat you down and did your makeup. Giving you a fox eye look with a red lip. She then got out your dress, to which you gasped at. Your dress was a long red ballgown. The top of the dress had jewels all over, the skirt then puffing out like Cinderella’s. The sleeves of the dress were made to go across your shoulders, letting the top of your breasts and your collar bone show.

“Wow I… Wow,” you gasped.

“Amazing, right? You’ll be the belle of the ball! You’ll even outshine Elena, who’s dress is disappointingly gorgeous,” Rebekah smiled.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Of course! Now go put it on, I’ll help you with the back,” Rebekah said handing it to you.

You took it gently, going to your bathroom to get changed. You came out, letting Rebekah tighten the dress for you. You then slipped on your black heels that you were wearing earlier, and took a look at you reflection.

“Wow, I actually look like a princess,” you smiled.

“That you do,” Rebekah smiled. “Now let’s go. Our ride is waiting.”

You nodded, lifting up the bottom of your dress so you could walk. You and Rebekah walked out to the limo, going over to the Mikaelson house.

“Hey, Rebekah?” You asked. “Yes?” She answered.

“Why are you being so nice to me? Besides making Kol happy,” you asked.

Rebekah sighed. “Well, I think you’re good for my brother. You make him more bearable to be around. Kinder, warmer. A lot less murderous. I know you like him, too. I can see the way you look at him when you think no one is paying attention. He’s head over heels for you and I think you could be the same for him after tonight.”

“Good to know,” you smiled.

“Mhm. But don’t tell anyone I ever complimented you or helped you out tonight. I don’t need your friends thinking I have a good side,” Rebekah said.

You chuckled. “Alright, deal.”

You two arrived at Rebekah’s house, stepping out of the limo. Rebekah and you waked to the doors, opening them. As you stepped into the ballroom, all eyes went on you. Your entrance elicited gasps from everyone. You smiled shyly, your smile faltering once Elena, Damon, and Jeremy approached you. Rebekah left you to deal with your family.

“What the hell are you doing here!” Elena exclaimed.

“Having fun, El,” you answered.

“No, you need to go home now,” Damon said.

You shook your head. “No. Connor stood me up and Kol invited me to this thing, so I decided to take the opportunity.”

Elena’s angry face fell as she heard what Connor did. “Connor stood you up? That jerk!”

“It's okay. I’d rather be here and in this dress than with him and drunk,” you admitted.

“Need me to beat him up for you?” Jeremy asked. “I’m good baby bro, but thanks. Uh…. have you guys seen Kol?” You asked.

“Nope,” Elena said. “And I wouldn’t advise looking for him. He might kill you,” Damon frowned.

“No, I won’t! Like she said, I invited her here,” Kol said from behind them.

Damon turned, a grimace on his face. “Why?”

“Because I am in love with her,” Kol smiled, his eyes meeting you’s.

Your blood ran cold and you looked down, holding the skirt of your dress tightly.

“I’d like to dance with her, if that’s alright,” Kol said.

“No way,” Jeremy said. “You put a hand on her-”

“Jer, it’s okay,” you said. “I’ll shout if I’m in trouble. Please, just go.”

Elena sighed, “Fine. I have to go and see Esther anyways. Do not hurt her.” Elena warned Kol.

“I never would dream of it,” Kol smiled.

The three left, leaving you and Kol at the entrance. Kol approached you, you putting your head down again.

“You look ravishing, Y/n. If we were alone, I’d rip that dress off of you,” Kol said, looking over your figure.

“Thanks,” you chuckled shyly.

Kol put his hand on your chin gently, lifting your face up to meet his. “Don’t be so shy, Y/n. And don’t self-doubt yourself, either. I know that asshole Connor stood you up, but you are still the most beautiful, kind girl ever. He doesn’t deserve you anyways.”

“And you do?” You challenged.

Kol chuckled. “No, but I’m hoping you think differently.” He then offered you his hand. “Dance with me?”

“Sure,” you nodded, taking his hand hesitantly.

Butterflies threatened to rip out of you as you touched his hand. Goosebumps rushed up your arm as you grasped his hand. Kol walked you two to the ballroom floor. You put your free hand on his shoulder, him putting his free hand on your waist. You two swayed for a few moments until you broke the silence.

“So, um… How did you know Connor stood me up?” You asked.

“I had Rebekah spying on you,” Kol admitted.

“Wow, not creepy at all,” you muttered. “I wanted to be ready for if he stood you up, so Rebekah could then go and get you ready,” Kol explained.

“Makes sense,” you said.

Kol smiled at you, not being able to keep his eyes off of you. You kept adverting your gaze. Too nervous to actually look at him or more than 5 seconds.

“You’re very cute when you’re tense,” Kol complimented. “Thanks. Not a lot of people think that,” you chuckled. “Well, those people are out of their minds then,” Kol said.

“Why do you like me?” You asked suddenly, looking at him. You had been wandering this all night, waiting until you were here with him to ask.

Kol smiled. “Well, you’re different. You’re not aggressive like your brother, or so moral like Elena. You’re quiet and calm. You think through things rather than be impulsive, which seems to be how everyone is around here. Your eyes are so beautiful, I get lost in them. When I see you smile, it makes my dead heart come alive. And when you do that hair-twirl thing, it’s so adorable. You’re also extraordinarily stunning, which is a big plus.”

Your heart skipped beats as he told you his reasons for liking you. As you looked at him and watched him pour his heart out, your liking for him grew. You subconsciously moved closer to him, too. Your body doing its own thing.

“Wow,” you breathed out. “You really um… Thought about this.”

“Well, you are all I think about. Besides who’s head I want to rip off,” Kol smirked.

“Gross,” you grimaced. “I’m kidding! But I’m serious about you. I’ve never liked someone as much as you, Y/n. I hope that I can prove that I’m a good choice for you,” Kol said.

“Well, you’re proving it now,” you admitted.

Kol grinned, “Fantastic.”

You two swayed in silence again. As the music got slower and slower, and the lights got lower and lower, you two moved dancing positions naturally. You were quite scared to move closer to him. You were already so close, practically hugging. But your bodies were like magnets, pulling each other close. So tried to go with everything and relax.

Both of your arms went around his neck and both of his hands wrapped around your waist and went to the small of your back. You two scooted in until your head was on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and breathed in his scent nonchalantly, enjoying his cologne. Kol nuzzled his cheek onto the side of your head, him also breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

You two danced for a while before Kol got an idea.

“Do you want to get out of here and go to the balcony?” Kol asked.

“You’re not gonna kill me, are you?” You joked.

“No promise,” Kol winked cheekily. You giggled, “Alright. Let’s go.” Kol nodded and kept his grip on your hand, walking you to the balcony. On the way, you took two glasses of champagne. You handed him one as you stepped out on the terrace. You put your elbows on the railing, sipping the champagne.

“So, why’d you bring me out here?” You asked.

“To gaze at the stars,” Kol answered simply, walking next to you.

“Hm,” you hummed, looking up at the night sky. “Did you ever stargaze back before you all were vampires?”

“Yes, all the time. It was one of my favourite things to do,” Kol said.

“That sounds nice,” you said. “It was,” Kol said.

“Do you ever miss being a witch?” You asked. Kol sighed, taking a sip of champagne. “Sometimes. But I love being immortal.” You smiled, “Makes sense. If I were a vampire, I’d be the same.”

Kol turned to you, “I can turn you.”

You shook your head, “No. I like being human. Being a vampire seems to complicated. Plus, I want kids.”

“Hm. Sounds nice having your little perfect, human life. I miss that,” Kol said.

“You were never human, though,” you smiled, turning to him. “Yes, but I was once mortal,” Kol said.

“True,” you nodded, taking a sip of your champagne. “Hey, um… I want to thank you for inviting me. I know I said I didn’t want to go, but I’m really glad I did. I’m having a really good time.”

“Of course. I knew you would. I know you’re not the girly-girl type, but every girl deserves to experience to dress up for a ball,” Kol said.

“I agree,” you nodded. “And I’m also glad that you are warming up to me a little bit. You’re not so much of a blubbering mess anymore,” Kol smirked.

You chuckled, “Yeah, I take a little to warm up to new people.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m that person you’ve warmed up to,” Kol said, stepping closer to you. He put his hand on your’s, looking at you flirtatiously.

You grinned at the moves he was making, deciding to make a move of your own.

You leaned into him, your eyes boring into his the whole time. You were standing toe-to-toe to him, your mouth parted as his eyes glowed dark brown. He smirked at you, his hand leaving your’s and settling on your waist. You wanted to move closer, but your skirt was so puffed out it restricted you from doing so. Kol noticed your slight frustration with your dress, setting his glass down, and putting his other hand on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

“Kol, my dress is too big,” you chuckled.

“Not too big for me to do this,” Kol grinned, leaning his head down.

Before you knew it, he was kissing you. Your eyes widened as his lips met your’s. A few moments passed before he pulled away, confused and scared.

“I’m sorry, I must have read the room wrong. I-” Kol started to apologise, but you put your hand on the back of his head and pulled him in again.

This time Kol was surprised. He didn’t waste any time in kissing you back, though. Your lips moved together in perfect synchronisation. It was like his lips were made for your’s as they fit in-between your’s like puzzle pieces. Both your fingers entangled themselves in his hair, pulling slightly as he pulled you impossibly closer. Your stomach did a million of flips as his tongue swiped your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slowly, Kol’s tongue slipping in gently. As your tongue’s fought, Kol’s hands went to your skirt, finding your legs under them. He put his hands under your thighs, lifting you up with ease.

You pulled away, breathing heavily. Kol’s eyes opened, going down to your lips and smiling as your lipstick was smudged. Your chest heaved up and down as you stared into his eyes.

“I just wanted to um… To tell you that i-if you were planning on having um, sex. I’m not ready. This um… This was my first kiss, too. Sorry if you were expecting to get lucky tonight,” you confessed, blushing profusely.

Kol smiled at you, setting you down. “It’s alright, love. I wasn’t expecting anything from you tonight. I hope your first kiss was good.”

“It was really good,” you giggled.

“Good. Now, do you want to continue to make out? Or we could go back out and dance,” Kol suggested.

“Um… can we dance again?” You asked, going back to your shy nature.

“Of course we can, darling,” Kol smiled, holding his hand out for you to take.

He led you to the ballroom. You two danced for a couple hours until you started to get tired. Kol drove you back home and you went into your house, Kol kissing you goodbye. You closed the door, smiling widely and squealing to yourself.

Your phone rang and you answered it immediately, seeing it was Karina.

“Hey! How did your date go?” She asked.

“Um…” you sighed, the feeling of Kol’s lips on your’s still there. You smiled again, fidgeting with your fingers.

“It was good. Really, really good.”

————

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