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theroosterperch · 2 years

Text

one of the girls.

(Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader)

Word Count: 2.8K

Trigger Warnings: Nothing I can think of, just fluff <3

A/N: I’m currently writing another insanely long fic but it’s taking me forever and a half. Perhaps posting a shorter one first will give me the push I need. We’ll see. Enjoy some Rooster content where he gets in touch with his feminine side (as we all know, he drinks The Feminist Elixir™️). Also my friend and I were discussing the fact that Rooster is a gossip man. You got work drama? Someone talking smack about someone’s ex’s girlfriend’s cousin’s daughter’s husband? He’s INVESTED, he’s pulling out the popcorn. We don't make the rules but also yes we do.

(P.S. This is the first little fic I've written since my 2013 Wattpad days, please be gentle lmfao)

Summary: Penny asks you to watch Amelia (your goddaughter) for the night and Rooster tags along :)

After getting off work, you decide to head down to the Hard Deck as per your usual Friday evening routine. It had been a long, exhausting day even if it was only 6pm, but you always had time and energy for Fridays at the Hard Deck. Everybody you loved was always there…Maverick, Penny, Phoenix, Coyote, Fanboy, Bob, Hangman (yes, even Hangman), but mainly Rooster—your lovely, warm, incredibly funny and cheeky charming boyfriend. At the end of your longest, saddest, most frustrating days, he always knew exactly how to cheer you up or at least take the edge off. Even just having him in the same vicinity was comforting…like an emotional heat lamp or weighted blanket for the soul. And his hugs…oh, lord, his hugs. Warm, safe, always a bit tight but never too much; at your most broken, it felt like he could just hug you back together. Every time you reunited at the end of the day, he would greet you with one of these hugs, a sweet kiss to some part of the face, and a cheeky “hi beautiful”, and it never waned, even after the several years you had been together. Tonight at the Hard Deck was no exception.

When you walked in the door, you were greeted with the familiar smell of mixed perfumes and colognes, the faint smell of alcohol, beach wood, and salty air. You scanned the crowd for familiar faces, ultimately landing on Penny behind the bar. You approached, trying to get her attention over the noise.

“Busy night?” You shout. She turns around, giving you a warm smile, while somehow juggling too many glasses and bottles of beer in her arms.

“You could say that,” she laughs, attempting to set them down and disperse them to the people crowding the counter. As they all took their drinks, some disappeared elsewhere in the room. “You know how Friday nights are.”

Indeed, I do.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Penny says, turning to you with an inquisitive yet guilty look on her face. “And you can 100% say no if you want to.”

“What is it? Is everything okay?” You ask, concerned.

“Yeah, yeah…it’s just-” She trails off, now fidgeting with random objects behind the counter “Pete and I…we-...well, we haven’t been able to get much alone time since the mission happened and I was wondering if you could hangout with Amelia tonight while we have some time for ourselves. I know it’s last minute but-”

“Say no more,” You interrupt, laughing “she’s my goddaughter, I would love to.”

“Are you sure? This won’t interrupt any plans you have with Bradley?”

“I think the plan for tonight was just to hangout here,” you smile, grabbing a beer from behind the counter. “It’s all good, really. You two deserve some alone time.”

“You are an angel, truly,” she smiles. “Amelia is at the house–probably with her head in some book–so just head over whenever you like. I should be back by tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good, I’ll leave in a bit.”

“Leaving me so soon?” a raspy voice says behind you. You suddenly feel those all-too-familiar arms wrap around you, and you can’t help but smile. You feel a soft kiss on your neck and a slight tickle from that damn 80’s stache. You turn your head toward Rooster to see him looking down into your eyes, smiling softly as he places a gentle kiss to your lips. “Hi beautiful.” he whispers. There it was.

“Hey stranger.”

“What evil are you two scheming?” He chuckles, motioning towards you and Penny.

“World domination,” you say “but only after I’m done watching Amelia for the night.”

“Hmm…sounds fun. Am I invited?”

“I was thinking it could be more of a….” you trail off, looking at Penny, and she smiles. “girl’s night. Just me and Amelia, ya know—watch chick flicks, do facemasks, paint nails, gossip…the whole nine yards.”

Rooster steps aside slightly, one arm still around your waist as he raises his other hand to his chest dramatically. He gasps, fake-offended: “I can do a girl’s night. I can be one of the girls, I’ll blend right in. Besides, I was looking forward to spending time with you tonight, whatever form that takes.”

You smile up at him as he takes one of your hands and raises it to his lips, placing multiple soft kisses to the top and fingertips, ultimately flattening it against the side of his cheek to cup his face. You sigh, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb as his eyes searched yours for an answer. Ugh, how could you say no?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A few hours passed and you found yourself sitting on the floor of Penny’s living room with Rooster and Amelia, the three of you having demolished a giant pizza from her favorite restaurant. You admittedly didn’t get to spend as much time with your goddaughter as you would’ve liked, with you working and Amelia going to school–any chance you could get to spoil her, whether it be with her favorite pizza, riding bikes along the beach and getting ice cream, or just hanging out like you were—you were going to take it. She was like your little sister, and you were not only grateful that Penny had chosen you to be her godmother, but also that Rooster was so encouraging and enthusiastic about your role in her life. He had happily come to take on a cool uncle sort of role, offering as much time and support to you both as he could. You could not ask for a better partner, or a cooler goddaughter for that matter.

You throw the last of your crust into the nearly empty pizza box, sighing contently as you lean against Rooster’s shoulder, the both of you resting against the front of the couch. You reentered the conversation in front of you, a dramatic retelling of an adorably adolescent outburst towards Amelia at school.

“Wait, wait, wait. Back up,” Rooster exclaims, still chewing on the crust of his last slice, “she said what about your science fair project?”

“You heard me,” Amelia states, sassily. “The absolute nerve. I saw her trip when we were running the mile but did I say anything? No.”

“Kids these days,” he laughs as he looks over at you, “they’re a different breed.”

“Hey, as I recall via Maverick you have some pretty interesting stories as well. It sounds like you were quite the troublemak-”

“I was a saint, thank you very much,” Rooster laughs. “Don’t tarnish my reputation.”

You playfully swat at his chest, only for him to catch your wrist and place a quick kiss to your forearm. He holds it across his chest, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

“Eeeeughh, you guys are nauseating.” Amelia states, pretending to gag. Rooster lets out a wonderfully deep laugh as he finishes his last bite, dusting off crumbs from his fingers. He sits back groaning, putting one arm around you, the other on his belly.

“I’ve never been so full in my life,” he exhales, patting his stomach softly “I might go into a coma.”

You and Amelia both chuckle at this, until suddenly you get an idea. You look at Amelia and wink, facing her but glancing your eyes towards the man beside you. “So,” you begin, “I was thinking we could do…makeovers or something like that, I’ve been meaning to try my hand at this cool eyeliner trick I saw online.”

Amelia, picking up the hint, smiles at you mischievously, both of you now turning to look directly at Rooster. “I was thinking the exact. same. thing.”

He looks a bit confused for a second, eyes darting between you and Amelia, a nervously amused smile forming on his face. He llet his head drop down, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I should’ve seen that coming.”

This was going to be a fun night.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Endless gossip, two buckets of popcorn,and 6 episodes of Gilmore Girls later, Amelia fell peacefully asleep on her bed. You were now sitting on her bedroom floor in-between Rooster’s legs with your back against his chest, his back against the foot of the bed. He had one hand resting on your bent knee, the other laying somewhat limp in your hands as you directed your attention to painting the nails on his left hand. He watched you silently for a moment, smiling to himself at how cute you looked when you made your focus-face, your tongue sticking slightly out and eyebrows knitted together in concentration.

“Hmmm…you’re so beautiful.” he hums against you, nuzzling his face against your back, occasionally giving you feather-light kisses through the fabric of your shirt. Feeling his hot breath on your back, you got the shivers down your spine and Rooster chuckles, pressing his chest against you further in an effort to aid your chills. He eventually sits up slightly to get a better look at the electric blue artistry you were now slathering on his nails. “...and I supposed you’re not half bad at this.”

You snort, awkwardly. “Thanks, love. I do my best.”

A silent moment goes by before you remember the events that transpired earlier in the evening. “Speaking of beautiful…,” you say as you turn around carefully in his lap. You bent your legs to place them on either side of his hips, almost sitting cross-legged and chest-to-chest against him. You took his face in your hands to turn it straight toward you, “..c’mere good lookin.”

You grabbed the micellar water and package of cotton rounds on the ground next to you that Amelia had used to take off her own makeup after Rooster did his best smokey eye on the poor girl. You had to admit it was sweet; he tried so hard and he even had a reference photo from Pinterest that he kept looking at, insistent on doing it right. The end result was similar to that of a sparkly raccoon, but you both reassured him that it wasn’t bad for someone who spent his days about as far away from all things cosmetic—literally, thousands of feet in the sky, away from the Earth and the nearest Ulta. Amelia returned the favor by donning him with Marilyn Monroe-esque eyeliner and a matching beauty mark, painting his lips bright red as best she could with his mustache. When he saw his reflection in Amelia’s handheld mirror, he folded over laughing.

“Ya know,” he got out between laughs. “I’m more of an Audrey Hepburn man myself, but I think Marilyn suits me.”

“Oh, great. Next time we can put you in a tutu. Maybe a little black dress?” You laugh.

You poured a little bit of the water onto a cotton round, and set the bottle aside. You begin to gently sweep the round across his eyes and lips, doing your best to get off what you could of the impressively stubborn eyeliner and lipstick. Itt was fun to see him with makeup on as it was never something he wore, and you had to admit you enjoyed this for more than one reason. Yes, it was fun to see him with it on, and to see him bond with Amelia, but this was good for you for an entirely different reason. Getting to sit so close to him, paying special attention to his devastatingly beautiful face–getting to admire his wonderfully long eyelashes, his cute nose, the semi-raised scars decorating his jaw and neck…there wasn’t a detail about this man that didn’t have you absolutely whipped.

After a while, you finally manage to get it all off, turning slightly to set down the supplies. When you turn back you find Rooster staring at you contently. There was no mischief, no cheekiness. He looked serious, blinking slowly–his gaze was intense, full of nothing but deep love and admiration. He softly smiles and reaches up to gently tuck a few loose hairs behind your ear with the very tips of his fingers. You once again get the chills, except this time it radiated through you like an electric shockwave. Lord have mercy.

“How’d I get so lucky…” he whispers, so quietly you almost don’t catch it. It was moments like these that made your heart ache in the best possible way…when it was just you and him, the quiet. Nothing to do but comfortably sit in each other’s presence, admiring. You would be lying if you denied that after all these years, this man didn’t give you butterflies.

“No..” you quietly chuckle, shaking your head slightly. “I’m the one who’s lucky.”

Rooster smiles at this warmly, putting his arms around your waist and pulling you close into one of those irreplaceable, ultra-comfortable, soul-soothing hugs–his hand gently pushing on the back of your head to get you to rest on his shoulder. He began to rock just barely side-to-side…you’re not sure how long you had sat there, but you began to feel him lazily trace patterns all over your back and…

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You don’t ever remember falling asleep, but you are awoken by a soft murmuring somewhere behind you. When you finally open your eyes and turn your head, you see Penny sitting at the edge of Amelia’s bed, softly stroking her hair. You hear her whisper to Amelia but you can’t quite make out what she says. Hope she had a good time.

You turn even further to see Rooster sleeping peacefully behind you, his arm draped lazily over your waist. You smile at his darling face, peaceful as he rests—surprisingly well—on the shag carpet of Amelia’s bedroom floor. You couldn’t help but bring your hand up to run your fingertips through his hair, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and eyelids. After a moment his eyelashes flutter slightly, and his eyes open–confused for a moment before finally focusing on your. He brings a hand up, groggily rubbing the sleep from his face the best he could. What a sight for sore eyes. He smiles at you and leans up, propping himself on one elbow, the other hand caressing the back of your head to pull you slightly forward. Usually a morning kiss would consist of something quick as you both are rushing to get to work,, but not this morning. He kisses you dizzingly slow and deeper than usual for his morning display of affection–had you been in the comfort of your own home, it would not be just a kiss but you store that in the mental bank for later.

He barely pulls away, resting his forehead against yours “good morning gorgeous” he says with a smile.

“Mornin, stud.” you quip back. He chuckles, letting out a throaty laugh before quickly kissing you on the forehead, his hand still caressing the back of your head. Suddenly, you’re interrupted by Penny.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Penny laughs quietly “thanks for hanging out with her, I know she had a lot of fun.”

“So did we,” you and Rooster say at the same time.

“Let’s get up and I’ll buy us all breakfast, my treat.” Penny encourages. You both stand up wobbling, leaning on each other for as much support as you could give–the reality of sleeping on the floor now becoming painfully obvious. You hobble into the kitchen, gathering your things, and you notice Rooster is a little far behind you, visibly uncomfortable as he tried to stretch out his back to relieve some of the tension.

“I’m sorry if that was uncomfortable,” you said, running your hand down his back in an effort to soothe some of the pain. “We should’ve slept on the couch or something.”

”No apology needed,” he said insistently, looking at you like you had lost your mind. He kisses your cheek before continuing. “I said I wanted to spend time with you however I could, right? The sore back is totally worth it. Besides, there’s been plenty of times I’ve left you a bit sor-”

“Hey now,” you interrupt, putting your hand over his mouth “none of that til we’re out of Penny’s house.”

Penny looks at you guys, and shakes her head laughing. “You two crack me up.”

You both chuckle at her response, knowing damn well she’s aware of your activities as a couple. After all, she had quite literally asked you to babysit so she could have some alone time with a certain someone. Rooster returns his attention to you, grabbing your hand, a cheeky grin plastering his face.

“Am I one of the girls now? Did I pass the test?”

“Mmm….,” you hum, looking up as you pretend to think about it. “you did alright. I’ll keep you around anyhow.”

“Perfect,” he laughs, resting his head on top of yours. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Yeah, me neither.

**************

#rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster headcanon #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun #top gun maverick

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ssuperficialspacecadett · 1 year

Text

Friday Fight Night

Chapter Four of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Five

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3.4K

Chapter Overview: You help Benny and the guys get ready for FFN.

Notes: this chapter is just a bit shorter than what i usually like to post, but i didn't have a lot of time to write this week & i'm actually content with where i ended it ! sometimes u just have to stop a little short so u don't just start typing random shit to meet a bullshit word count u give urself u know? i updated the tag list so if i missed u PLZ LET ME KNOW & i will add u asap !! well as usual...my asks are always open & happy reading <3

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Why is this so difficult? It's just like every other day at work, except for the fact that it's not. You have been standing in front of your closet for a good 10 minutes now just looking at your clothes. Suddenly nothing seems good enough to wear. Maybe something would be good enough if you knew how to dress for a fight. Should you wear workout gear? No, you weren’t the one fighting. Should you wear a tank top and a tennis skirt? Probably not if it gets as rowdy as Benny says it will.

“Just pick a fucking outfit, you idiot.” You chastise.

After yet another once over of your closet you pick out a worn, white t-shirt with an image of Speed Racer on it. It had definitely seen its glory days years ago when you were still in college. If it worked then, it should work now. You take it off its hanger, along with some jeans, and put it all on. You’re tying your shoes when your phone chimes next to you.

???: Hey, we will be getting to the gym around closing time. Are you staying to help Benny set up?

???: Oh, this is Frankie BTW

Seeing his name on your screen makes your chest tighten with excitement. You obviously gave him your number so he could text you, but now it feels so real. Something about Frankie texting ‘BTW’ makes you giggle to yourself as you sit on the floor.

You: Yes, I figured I would make myself useful. No point in going home since the fights start at 10:00 P.M. and I might lose my parking spot.

You have to set your phone down before you overthink the most basic text you have ever sent in your life. Just for good measure, you leave it on your bed while you go into the bathroom. Despite your best efforts to remain nonchalant about the whole situation, you find yourself putting on a little more makeup than usual. By the time you have wrapped up and returned to your room an unread text is waiting for you.

Frankie: Good thinking. See you tonight then.

The rest of your morning has a bit more pep in it than before.

***

Your day at the gym passes by as usual. The only two exceptions were a truck load of last minute Friday Fight Night tickets sales and then compliments on how the gym was smelling. You made a mental note to smack Benny upside the head for throwing such a temper tantrum about it. In between customers you found yourself checking your phone more than you regularly do. You told yourself that it was just because you were excited about the fights and were counting down the minutes and not because you were hoping to receive another text from Frankie. Unfortunately, lying to yourself never really works out.

In an effort to keep yourself occupied, you answer emails from people that are applying for a gym membership, make laps around the gym to see if you need to replace any of the wipes used to clean the machines, and collect all of the dirty towels for a load of laundry. Much to your dismay, these tasks don’t take very long to complete. By 3:30 P.M. you reluctantly slink back to the front desk where the single most unwanted guest is waiting.

“There she is! My favorite receptionist! I’m still interested in knowing your name, darlin’.”

“Good afternoon, Brunson.” You plop yourself down in your chair and pull up the schedule on the computer. “Just working out today? I don’t see that you’re with Benny.”

“You caught me. I want to make sure that I’m in good shape when I fight in a few weeks time.”

For a few blissful seconds you allow yourself to indulge in the idea of Brunson getting clocked, hard, right in the jaw.

“Well, enjoy yourself.” You scan his card quickly in an attempt to move him on his way.

“I always do so when you’re here.” He clicks his tongue at you while he walks past your desk.

“God, he’s insufferable.” You mumble to yourself.

It’s 4:00 P.M. when Benny finally ventures up to the front lobby with you.

“Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day, man.”

“Because you haven’t,” He covers his face with his hands and whines into them before coming back up for air. “At first I couldn’t find where the white board I used to write out the fightin’ pairs was. Then there was somethin’ wrong with the beer delivery and they kept me out back for fuckin’ ever. That isn’t even coverin’ all the one on one sessions I've had today or the ones I’m still goin’ to have.”

It’s breaking your heart to see how stressed out he’s getting with all of the things he has to juggle today. You get out of your chair, walk over to him, and rub on his shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s going to be alright, Benny. I’m staying after work to help you set up and Frankie told me that the guys are coming to help around closing too. You won't be in this alone for much longer.”

He places both of his hands on his hips and exhales deeply.

“Thank you,” You can see the earnestness in his eyes. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. That’s what friends are for, right?”

He smiles down at you from his 6’2 frame and before you can move he pulls you in for a deadly tight hug.

“Benny!” You can’t stop laughing. “Let me go this fucking instant!”

“Friends like hugs from other friends, right?” He yells over your incessant protesting.

“I’m going to kill you, you know that?!” Your tone of voice doesn’t even sound remotely serious.

Eventually you get him to unlatch himself from you so the two of you can finish up the work day in order to prepare for this evening.

***

You stand back proudly and admire all of your handiwork. Benny put you in charge of setting up the beer table, so set up the beer table you did. You designed a poster to hang on the wall above the table so people would be able to clearly see their options and their respective prices. You set a long, metal tub in the center of the table and filled it halfway with ice. Then you made a little arrangement out of the beer and poured the last half of the ice on it to keep it cold. The cash box was fully stocked and set to the side. All in all, you did a pretty good job. Thankfully, one of Benny’s regulars volunteered to work it this evening.

“All done over here!” You call over to Benny. “How’s the sign coming?”

You watch in horror as he stands up to reveal a barely legible fighting roster. He must have seen your face flounder when you looked at it because he just tosses the dry erase marker over to you and crosses his arms.

“Oh, Benny I-”

“I know it looks bad. I’ve never had a knack for all this creative shit.”

You squeeze his hand as you pass him while heading to the white board. He slides over the roster that has been printed on paper for you to use as your guide. You’re so engrossed with your new task that you don’t notice when the guys come in around 8:30 P.M..

“You sure are givin’ Benny a run for his money this evenin’. The place hasn’t looked this put together in…well ever.” That sugary, sweet southern drawl could only belong to one man.

“Thank you, Will!” You toss over your shoulder.

“Aw screw you, dude. Maybe it would have been if y’all had gotten here when y’all said you would.” Benny notes.

“Blame Fish.” Pope snickers. “He couldn’t find the perfect outfit.”

That got your interest peaked. You turn around to look at what Frankie is wearing. Regular work boots, soft looking denim jeans, a black undershirt, a worn blue button up with the top few buttons left undone, and finally his cap- oh god he’s looking at you. If you had been a smarter woman, you would have noticed that two thirds of the group standing behind you were looking at your sign. That damned one third of the group was watching you trail your way up his whole body. He’s like an oak; completely unwavering as you take him in.

“Well, I like it. ” You squeak out as you turn your attention back to the roster. “Now why don’t you guys go make yourselves useful and help Benny?”

You hear a unified ‘yes ma’am’ come from behind you followed by the scattering of three pairs of feet. There truly isn't anything more sexy than men who can follow orders.

All five of y’all work tirelessly for the next hour to get everything finished before the doors open to the public. When you cross off the last item on your to-do list, you decide that you have earned a drink. You sneak over to the beer table and open one of the coolers that you set up behind it that contains the excess bottles. Much to your dismay, the bottle caps don't twist off like you originally thought. You’re on your knees looking around in the extra bags and praying that Benny had the foresight to get a bottle opener when Frankie walks up next to you.

“Lose something?”

“Just my dignity trying to locate the stupid fucking bottle opener.”

He laughs jovially as he extends his hand to help you up. You take it and sheepishly hand him your bottle when he motions for it. The two of you walk around to the front of the table and you watch as he easily takes out his keys and pops the cap open with a bottle opener he had attached to them. You notice that instead of tossing the cap in the trash he places it back in his pocket along with his keys. Right when he starts to hand the drink back to you he pulls it back towards him.

“Hey! What gives?”

“I have to test it to make sure it isn’t poisonous or something.”

“Oh my god, you dick.” You lean back on the table behind you.

“You won’t be saying that when I save your life.” He takes a small sip and passes it over to you. “Nope. It’s not poison. You’re in the clear.”

Now it’s your turn. You turn to look out at the gym while you take a drink of your well deserved reward.

“Wait,” You look over at Frankie. “What if it's a slow acting poison and now we are both infected? I guess you have to stay here and finish this with me so we can go out together.”

He leisurely reclines next to you on the table and takes the bottle in his hand when you offer it to him. “That's some pretty sound logic. I can’t argue with that.”

You try to stop yourself, but you watch as he brings the frosty glass to his pouty lips. They look more pink than usual against the dark color of the bottle. His hands make the beer bottle look so much smaller than it really is. Your eyes wander to that nose you’re so fond of. God, what would it feel like on your clit as he ate his fill of you? Now that you’re closer to him you’re able to see the gray that's intricately woven into his beard and hair. Would it tickle the inside of your thighs when he buried his face in your pussy? Feelings you haven’t had for a man in a long time rock through your body the further you sink into your fantasy. Drifting even further, his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the chilled liquid. You want to decorate the sensitive skin with blossoming purple marks.

“What?” He’s looking at you now. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” You say almost breathlessly. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t hog it all.”

“I would never.” The low baritone of his voice reverberates through you.

Benny, thankfully, yells from across the gym at the both of y’all before you do something questionable.

“Hey, lazy asses! It’s showtime!”

You and Frankie both let out a breath neither of y’all realized you were holding. He looks down at his watch and then faces his friend with a mild look of annoyance.

“It’s 9:30, man. It’s just the boxers and the ring girls coming in right now.”

You notice that Frankie’s body immediately tenses up after he says this. Confused, you look over at Benny who has eyes as bright as the sun and is making a beeline towards you.

“I’m sorry.” Frankie whispers down to you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Benny? What are you-?”

“I have a proposition for you.” He says while gripping both sides of your arms. “Do you wanna hear it?”

“I don’t think I have a choice by the look of things.”

“Please be my ring girl.” He gasps.

“Oh my god.” You let your head roll back. “Benny, are you serious right now?”

“Don’t say no yet. Just think about it before you decide.”

You roll your head over to face Frankie and raise your eyebrows. You’re met with a shrug that is just as innocent as his grin.

“Does this offer have an expiration date?” You inquire shifting your focus back to the man that currently has you in a vice grip.

“Just think about it.” He pleads.

“Fine, but I’m pretty sure I’m gonna say n-”

“La-la-la! I can’t hear you! La-la-la!”

“Don’t you have fighters to go hype up in the locker room?” Frankie cuts in.

“Nothin’ I hate more than when you’re right, Fish. Catch y’all in between the matches!”

With one final ‘think about it’, he bounds off into the locker rooms. All you can do is laugh hysterically at what just transpired. Frankie probably thinks you have lost your mind with the way you are doubled over right now.

“Hey let us in on the joke, why don’t you?” Pope sits next to you on the table.

“I could use a good laugh as well.” Will adds blithely.

“What you two could use is a reality check.” you walk around the table and grab a beer for each of them. “God, I can’t believe him.”

You hand Will and Pope their drinks completely forgetting about taking the tops off. Fortunately, that didn’t stop them. Will snatches Pope’s beer out of his hand and positions the bottles where one has its cap resting just barely on the edge of the other's cap. Then he slams them down on his knee and Pope’s opens with ease. After he hands the open one off, he pops his own with a thick ring he’s wearing.

“I’m thoroughly impressed, Will. What the hell was that?”

“You just gotta learn to make due sometimes.”

Frankie and Pope both mutter ‘show-off’ under their breaths as Will explains to you the physics behind his little trick.

“Okay, now back to what Benny was talking about.” You adjust your stance so you can better face the group. “Are y’all in on this? This ‘ring girl’ shit?”

“Can’t say it wouldn’t be fun though.” Pope prods his finger at you.

“Oh, yes I can.” You say swatting at him.

“You know, Benny. Once he sets his mind to somethin’ he’s pretty determined to see it through.”

“That doesn’t even begin to answer my question, Will.” You groan as you take the beer from Frankie’s hand.

The movements between y’all are so natural, so fluid that it feels like something you have been doing for years. You see Pope, almost in shock, watch you as you take a drink.

“Can I get some of that?”

“No way, man.” You shelter the bottle against your body. “Three is a crowd and you literally have an open one in your hand.”

“Will’s right,” Frankie reasons with you. “Benny is as one track minded as they come.”

“Tell him to get on another track then.”

“How about this?” Pope counters. “You go into the locker room with Benny and see what it takes to be a ring girl. Then and only then will he accept your answer of ‘no’ if that’s still what you want.”

“If that will get him off my case then that's fine with me.”

You start to turn towards the locker room doors when a blue sleeved arm reaches over your shoulder and plucks the beer from you.

“Hey, give that back!”

“I just want to make sure you don’t hog it all.” Frankie’s tone is thick with sarcasm.

“I would never.” You grin.

Pope waits until you have cleared the locker room doors before he whacks Frankie in the shoulder. Unfortunately, Frankie doesn’t see it coming because he is too busy hoping to catch one more glimpse of you.

“If that's how you act around women you think are ‘just cool’ then I’m terrified to see how you act around women you actually like.”

“The fuck was that for? And the fuck are you talking about, man?” He massages the spot where Pope smacked him.

“Will, please tell me you aren’t as blind as he is?”

“Sorry, Fish. I see it too.”

“See what?”

“That you look like a goddamn catfish whenever you look at her! Eyes all big and mouth agape.”

“I do not.” Frankie mutters.

“Come on.” Pope folds his arms across his chest. “You think she’s cute.”

“What are we in middle school? You’re being ridiculous. Will?”

“I’ll be honest, I wanna know too.” He flashes that signature boyish Miller smile.

All Frankie can do is laugh nervously while he removes his cap and runs his fingers through his hair. He knows that he’s in the middle of a losing battle and that he’ll have to concede. They are going to be ecstatic that a woman other than Rochelle has caught his eye. Especially when it's a woman that meshes so naturally with their group. No, what’s stopping him is that a part of himself wants to keep it a secret. To have something that is just his. No prying eyes, no unwanted advice, no consequences, and no one else has to get hurt but him. As soon as the acknowledgement of his affection for you falls from his lips, it's real. As selfish as it sounds, he wants to keep you at arms length. He feels like everything he touches breaks and he doesn’t want you to become the next casualty. You wouldn’t want him if you knew the truth about the things he has done. But then you smile or laugh and he can feel himself falling deeper and deeper into his delusions of grandeur.

“Well, if you don’t like her then maybe I’ll ask her out.”

“No, you won't because,” Frankie puts his cap back on. “I think she’s cute. Are y’all happy? I like her.”

“Atta boy, Fish!” Will cheers.

“I knew it!” Pope says as he pulls Frankie in for a hug. “She’s a good one, man.”

“I know she is. I just don’t know if I’m going to do anything about it right now.”

Will’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t want to fuck it up. To drag her into the shit show that is my life. I don’t even know if she feels the same way either!”

The two other men nod in understanding. Frankie takes a sip of the drink he stole from you and sighs as he looks up at the ceiling.

“All I know is…is that I like her.”

“Shh!”

“Pope, you were the one that wanted to talk about this!”

“Shut the fuck up! She's coming!”

“Y’all ready? I’m going to open the doors for everyone!”

The three of them use the time it takes you to unlock the doors and arrive back in order to regroup from their previous conversation.

“Did you,” Will clears his throat. “Did you like the view back there? See a future in being Benny’s ring girl?”

“I like the view from right here, thank you very much.”

“So,” Pope rubs his hands together. “Who ready to see some dudes get the shit beat out of them?”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @modernperplexity @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson }

#francisco morales #frankie morales #catfish #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #benny miller #will miller #ironhead #santiago garcia #pope #through the scope #read on a03

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upat4amwiththemoon · 1 year

Note

Could I please request Wandanat and daughter R who was just caught with a vape or alchohol and their reactions?

The reasoning could be the friends that R has pretty shitty friends?

Thank youuuu❤️

Teenage dirtbag

Summary: It never felt so good to be alive.

Pairing: WandaNat x daughter!reader

Warnings: underage drinking, cursing, some angst

Word count: 1679

a/n: okay so, I didn’t know which direction to go with this because my mom was never mad at me for drinking, so I decided to go both ways. Don’t let anyone coerce you into doing something you don’t want to do!!

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

Y/N bites her nails as she lays on her bed, talking to a friend on her phone. She sighs. “I don’t know, dude. My moms would kill me if they find out.”

“Oh, come on!” The friend groans. “Your moms won’t find out. You’ll just tell them you’re having a sleepover at my place.” Y/N stays quiet. “Don’t be lame, Y/N. Everyone will be there.”

“Alright then.” She mumbles. “You’ll pick me up in the evening?”

“Yep! I’ll see you then.” The friend sequels before hanging up the phone.

Slamming her head to her bed, Y/N groans. She isn’t sure why she agreed to go, but her friend has been pestering her for weeks about wanting to have a party when the parents leave. And of course she wants to please her friends. She doesn’t want to be lame.

Collecting some courage, she goes to the living room where her moms are. “Mom, mama?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” Wanda turns her gaze away from the TV. Her legs are draped over Natasha’s lap.

“Can I have a sleepover at Y/F/N’s house tonight?” Y/N hides her hands behind her back, afraid fiddling with them will make her moms suspicious. “They’d come pick me up in the evening. Around 8 pm.”

Wanda and Natasha look at each other. They’re having one of their silent conversation they always have while deciding something. “Sure.” Natasha smiles. “Will they drop you off in the morning or should we pick you up?”

“No need for a ride.” She says just a little too quickly, but Natasha and Wanda pay no mind to it. ”Uhm, I’d probably come back later than usual though.”

Natasha shrugs. “That’s fine. Just text us that you’re okay in the evening and in the morning.”

“Okay. Thank you. Love you!” Y/N gives them a quick smile before running back to her room, nerves all over the place. She doesn’t like lying to her moms, but sometimes it’s necessary.

“Relax a bit.” Her friends nudges her. They’re already at the house, setting everything ready. The amount of alcohol looks a bit intimidating to Y/N, she has never been properly drunk before. “Everything will be fine and you’ll have so much fun!” Y/N nods silently. “Wanna taste?”

She stares at the small glass bottle of alcohol. It’s surprisingly pretty looking. “Sure.” Y/N decides to take a leap of faith and takes the bottle, opening it before taking a sip. Her eyes widen as she looks at the bottle more closely. “Holy shit.” She mumbles, taking another sip. “It’s actually good.”

“See!” The friend laughs. “What did I tell you?” They open a bottle of their own, sipping it while putting out snacks. The first guests should arrive soon. Y/N giggles, arranging enough cups and plates for everyone while also drinking.

After getting everything ready, and two small bottles of alcohol per person, the other guests start to arrive. Y/N is already drunk, making her way more social than normally. She’s talking to her other friends and their friends, laughing and drinking with everyone.

“This is so fun!” She yells, making other people yell in agreement. Laughing, she chugs the rest of the drink in her cup, going to get a refill after.

She takes support from walls and furniture while walking, trying to dodge the other guests. Y/N smiles to herself, thinking about funny things, that aren’t actually that funny. Pouring more alcohol to her cup, she returns to the living room.

The music is blaring loudly through the whole house, making the floor shake at times. Some people are dancing, Y/N included, while others are having a more quiet time outside. The music happens to be so loud, even neighbors hear it clearly, which causes police to arrive.

A banging from the door makes the music stop dead on its track. Everyone freezes. “Shit, shit, shit.” Y/F/N mumbles, pacing around. She’s clearly drunk, but still, she goes to open the door.

Some of the guests have already started running out through the backyard. Y/N on the other hand is too drunk to even consider running away. She curses in her mind. Her parents will definitely yell her eyes off when they find out, and they will, they’re aware of every police interaction in the neighborhood and the next one.

“We need to leave!” One of Y/N’s friends whisper shouts, pulling her up from the floor. “Come on.” They run outside, at times stumbling to things, and climb over the fence with great effort.

“Where are we going?” Y/N mumbles. Her eyes are half closed as she drags along her friend.

“I don’t know.” He grumbles. “Do your moms know you were out drinking?”

“Obviously not.”

“Shit. My dad knows I’m here, so I’m good, but I’m not allowed to have guests over.” Mumbling, they stop for a moment when they are far enough from the house. “Can you sneak in?”

“They think I’m having a sleepover at Y/F/N’s house.” Y/N slurs. She isn’t really worried about her moms. The fuzzy feeling in her body is making her happy and relaxed.

A buzzing in her pocket makes Y/N frown. She picks it up, biting her tongue. “It’s my mom. I forgot to text her.” Groaning, she presses the answer button hesitantly. She knows not answering would be worse.

“Hi, honey. Is everything okay? You haven’t been answering any of our texts.”

Y/N scrunches her brows, concentrating to the best of her abilities to talk clearly. “Sorry, we were watching a movie.” There’s silence. Y/N stares at her friend while he stares at her. Taking the phone away from her ear, she checks that Natasha is still on the line. “Heeelloo?” Rolling his eyes, the friend shakes his head.

“Are you-“ Natasha pauses. “Have you been drinking?”

“Ha!” The laugh is short and loud. “No, never, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Are you with someone right now?”

“Yes.”

“Give the phone to them.”

With a frown, Y/N stretches her arm out to her friend, giving her phone to him. Despite his protests, he takes it and starts talking with Natasha, being less drunk than Y/N. After a while he hangs up and gives the phone back to her. “Your moms are coming to pick you up. I’m staying with you until then.”

“Well fuck.” Y/N sits down to the side of the road. “Did she sound mad?”

“Kinda.”

“Double fuck.”

It takes Natasha and Wanda only fifteen minutes to drive there, park their car and get out of it. And they do not look happy. Wanda is standing in front of Y/N with her arms crossed over her chest. “Get in the car.” Too scared to say anything, Y/N just nods and waves goodbye to her friend before getting in the backseat. “Thank you for looking after her.” Wanda gives him a slight smile and gets back to the driver’s seat.

The start of the ride is silent. Natasha keeps glancing at Y/N through the mirror while Wanda drives with a scowl on her face. “I’m sorry.” Y/N mumbles, her words still slurring.

Wanda presses her lips together. “Did you really think it’d be a good idea to go behind our backs to get shitfaced?”

“Wanda.” Natasha mumbles, giving her a look.

Shushing her, Wanda continues. “You’re in so much trouble. And those friends of yours?” She scoffs. “Don’t you even think about hanging out with them anymore.”

“But mom-“

“No.” Her voice is colder than Y/N has ever heard. “I’m too angry and disappointed to have a reasonable conversation with you right now. I really thought you’d know better.”

Slumping down on her seat, Y/N stays quiet the rest of the ride. They all do. It’s very painful and uncomfortable, but she was expecting something like this, so she shouldn’t be surprised.

The car comes to a stop. With some struggle, Y/N opens her seatbelt and the door. Wanda is already through the front door, while Natasha is staying behind to make sure Y/N is alright. They walk in the house. “Go to your room, we’ll talk tomorrow.” Wanda mumbles, going straight to the living room couch. She doesn’t even look at Y/N.

“Night.” She whispers before going up the stairs into her room. There she changes into her pajamas while sniffling. She’s too tired to wash her face, so she just gets under her covers.

Natasha opens the door quietly. “Can I come in?” Y/N hums. She sits next to her, setting her hand on Y/N’s back. “I brought you some water and a painkiller for tomorrow.” She sets them down to the bedside table.

“Thanks.”

Natasha rubs her side with her thumb. She has a gentle smile on her face. “Did you take anything else than alcohol?” Y/N shakes her head. “You were safe and had fun?”

“Yes.” She whispers.

“Good. Move over.” Natasha gets under the covers as well, turning to her side so she could see Y/N. “I’m not angry, okay? Wanda isn’t actually mad either, she just wasn’t ready for you to do grown up things.” She chuckles. “I am a bit disappointed you lied to us, but the most important thing is you’re safe.” Taking a deep breath, Natasha grimaces lightly. “We know you are a teenager and you will be doing…teenager things.”

“Gross, mom.” Y/N giggles.

Nudging her gently, Natasha laughs as well. “You know what I mean. It’s normal and it’s okay. Just tell us in the future.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

She smiles. They just lay there for a while. Y/N’s eyes keep closing on their own. “You should wash off your make up before going to sleep.” Natasha mumbles, stroking Y/N’s cheek.

“I’m too tired.”

Natasha pushes the covers away. “Come on, I’ll help you.” She pulls Y/N up and to the bathroom to clean her face and brush her teeth.

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dianneking · 1 year

Text

The Set-Up - Miranda/Reader (Top of the Lake: China Girl)

Crossposted on AO3 - if you prefer to read it there, follow this link!

Summary: Reader is crushing hard on Miranda, and yet somehow ends up on a date with Robin organized by none other than Miranda herself. Light angst, mostly Miranda being a hot mess tbh.

Tags: Mutual pining, jealousy, fake relationship, spying on people, Miranda being a clueless hot mess (as per canon), lil’ bit of angst, matchmaker!Robin, height difference, smoking, present tense, second person pov, ungendered reader. Words: 3767

The Set-Up

You watch as Miranda enthusiastically waves goodbye at Detective Griffin before coming to lean against the wall by your side. Wordlessly you offer her a cigarette out of your pack, and she accepts with a muttered Thank you, sticking it immediately between her lips and lighting it up. Maybe it’s because you are somewhat more tired, maybe it’s because today she looks particularly happy and it tugs at something deep within you, but today’s the day where you throw caution to the wind and ask her what you have been ruminating on for quite some time.

"So, what's the deal with you and Griffin, huh?"

"We're on another case together. It's a good one."

"Only that?"

"What else?"

"Come on, Hilmarson, are you really going to make me ask?"

"I... I don't understand what you mean."

"You two seem pretty close, that is all."

"We sorted out our differences."

"Isn't that just great?"

"What's wrong with you today? You are being more waspish than usual. Didn’t take enough smoke breaks?"

"Don’t try to change the subject. Are congratulations in order? Are you two an item now?"

"What? No!"

"...if you say so."

"We really aren't! She's like my sister or something. Is that what was pissing you off?"

"Of course not! Why would I care if you and Griffin were hitting it off?"

"Oh my god, it is. You are jealous."

"No I'm not"

"You so are!"

"Am not"

"Are too!"

"Piss off!"

You shove her playfully, but doing so makes you painfully aware of your height difference, and you feel suddenly very small and nervous. If your crush for Miranda is so evident that even herself can call you out on it, you are worse off than you thought you were.

You try to sneak a glance up at her, and you see her beautiful face corrugated in a frown, as if trying to piece together a puzzle. Has she already figured out everything? Maybe you should consider making a tactical retreat before you dig yourself too deep into a hole. But at the same time, you are not willing to give up any time the two of you spend together.

Damn. She's so out of your league it's not even funny, you think, watching how the warm glow of the afternoon sun shines through her blonde eyelashes. You should probably have been more careful in letting your feelings known, you think as the silence stretches on uncomfortably. Now there's going to be that embarrassed little dance of her trying to let you down and you telling her that it's okay (it's not), you understand (you do), and that you hope you two can still be friends (you really, really do). You are not ready to give up your smoke breaks spent together, all the laughter, the jokes, the heart to heart talks. Miranda is the brightest part of your day, and you'll be damned if you'll do anything to hurt your friendship.

"Hey I... I think you might have a chance, you know?"

"What?" You barely manage to choke out. Is she…

"Yeah, Robin is single you know. And you are witty and smart like her, you two would get on like a house on fire."

Oh no.

The implications of that sentence hit you like a cold shower. Is she really that clueless or is it some sort of joke? She's not the person to purposefully try to hurt you by mocking your crush, you know her well enough for that. You know she means well, and yet your heart sinks as surely as a rock in cold water. She's totally misunderstood, but that in itself is an answer.

"Miranda, that's not..."

"You know what? I can set you two up for a date!" She whips her phone out before you can try to get in a word, her tongue peeking out of her lips in a show of concentration as she types away. You try your best not to stare at her mouth as she does so, but you are entranced. So much so that you miss your only occasion to stop her.

"There you go!" she announces with a satisfied smile as the phone pings with Griffin's answer "She says she's up for grabbing lunch with you at Tony's tomorrow if you pay for it."

You try to swallow your disappointment, but it stays as a bitter knot in your throat. She might not be dating her detective partner, but she for sure isn't interested in you, if she's so quick to try set you up with her. She looks down at you, with so much excitement shining on her face that for a moment you get lost in those sparkling blue eyes. She's so gorgeous, and sunny, and kind. You really cannot be blamed for falling for her. It's just your usual rotten luck that she only sees you as a friend. So much so as to play matchmaker for you.

And you are so desperately in love with her that you cannot bring yourself to burst her bubble, to be the reason that her infectious smile drops from her lips, and so you don’t say anything. You don’t tell her that when the two of them storm through the station on their way to another case, or when they lean together, their heads close as they look at the computer screen together, it is not Griffin that you can’t take your eyes off from.

"So, what do you say?"

"Uhm…sure, I guess…"

“But of course, that’s what friends are for, isn’t it? You go get your girl!”

You shrug, trying to squash down the hurt that the word friend carries. You might as well go to this lunch with Griffin, hopefully you might be able to pull out of her whether Miranda is seeing someone else. Not that that would change much, would it? You should start trying to resign yourself to the fact that you really have no chance with her.

Also, Miranda looks positively giddy with excitement at having set the two of you up. Not when she has so resolutely stated that she only thinks of you as a friend. You are not going to make a fool of yourself confessing feelings that won’t be welcome and would only make your interactions awkward. Grabbing a bite with Griffin is for sure the lesser embarrassment of the two. Or at least the least damaging for your friendship. Because even if you can't have Miranda as your girlfriend, you are going to fight tooth and nail not to lose her as a friend.

You only hope that Griffin won't be an arse about it.

“Why are we even here? Didn't you have a huge crush on Miranda?”

Obviously, it had been too much to ask for.

“...”

“I’ll take that as a yes. So why let her set you up with me?”

“If you knew that already, why did you agree to this date?”

“I wanted some free lunch.”

“Oh wow. Way to make someone feel appreciated, Griffin.”

“And I was curious.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah, I wanted to see what she sees in you.”

“Nothing much, probably, if she tried to peddle me to you at the first chance she got.”

You try to keep the bitterness out of your tone, but you still bite viciously into your sourdough sandwich, and you can hear Griffin scoff.

“Oh please, it's obvious that she's pining for you just as much as you are for her.” You can feel yourself burning with embarrassment. Still better than the alternative, you remind yourself. It's just a lunch.

“I might even believe you if she hadn’t just put me firmly in the friendzone, so please, Griffin, can you drop this and just enjoy your free food?"

Miranda tries not to feel guilty as she peeks beyond the wall corner to watch her two colleagues through the window of the café. She just wants to see how the date goes, that's all. Since she's the one who made it possible and all of that, she feels somewhat responsible for it. Like a fairy godmother for your budding relationship. Her friend and her work partner hitting it off…that has to be a good match, right?

Everybody agrees that Robin is the absolute best detective in the station. And you...well, you deserve nothing but the best. And if you two work it out, she won't have to share her free time between the two of you, right? The three of you will be able to hang out together all the time, and all will be just grand. One big happy family.

She can see the two of you in conversation, and cannot help the nervous tapping of her fingers on the wall she's hiding behind. She can see you shrug, an embarrassed grimace on your face. She can see how red your ears have turned - she can't get over how cute you are when you blush. For all of your tough talk, she thinks affectionately, you really are just a big softie. Have you already told Robin of your crush for her?

What will her reaction be?

Maybe Robin will reject you, and of course Miranda will be there to help you through your heartbreak, to comfort you as you had done for her when her affair – it’s a relationship, babe – with Adrian had crumbled like a sandcastle built too close to the ocean. Because that’s what friends do for each other, right? And Miranda is very happy to be your friend.

She absolutely is.

Really.

It's just that…

It's just that sometimes she allows her mind to run free, and she finds herself wondering how it would feel for once to hold your hand as you lean against the wall outside the station side by side, how your hair would feel if she buried her hands in it, how your lips would taste if she were to… No. She really shouldn’t. You're her friend, and she's pretty sure normal people don’t think about kissing their friend.

Unless they have romantic feelings for their friend. And she surely doesn't. Does she?

…

Fuck.

She totally has romantic feelings for you.

How hasn't she noticed? How long has she been feeling this way towards you and mistaking it for friendship? Suddenly she feels like bashing her head against the rough brick wall. How could she have been so dumb? She has even helped to set you up with Robin! Wow, good job, Hilmarson. Great. Couldn't she have realised it like two days ago? Even for her standards - she's the first to admit that she has messed up multiple times in her life - that's one major cock-up.

“See? She's totally into you as well, she's even spying on our date.”

“That might just be because she is curious. If she wanted me, why would she try to set me up with you? Come on, Griffin, you must be smarter than this. Aren't you supposed to be the best detective in Australia or something?”

“Ha-ha, such a flatterer. Look, I know what I’m seeing. And lucky for you, I’ve got an idea.”

“Lord help us all.”

“What if I pretended to go along with it?”

“Griffin, I am flattered, but I thought we had already been over how I'm not interested in you.”

“That's why I said pretended, genius. She’ll see us together, get jealous and realize her feelings for you.”

“She won't. You might be a decent detective, but you suck at relationship advice. Oi! Remove your hand from mine, this is ridiculous.”

She shouldn't still be here, Miranda thinks, and yet she can't seem to be able to rip her eyes away from the way Robin has grasped your hand above the coffee table, her face opening in a lopsided smile.

This isn't fun anymore. Not since she's realised how badly she has fucked up in helping you two out. Miranda swallows, her eyes never leaving Robin as she slides out of her side of the booth and moves to sit beside you. She's never seen that sort of playful grin on Robin's face, unless she was totally hammered, and to see it when she's sober, and on a date with you of all people… Robin wants you too, doesn't she?

Well, of course she does. I mean, look at you, you are lively, smart, funny, attractive, and Robin might be many things, but she for sure isn’t blind or stupid. She has to know how much of a catch you are.

Miranda can only watch helplessly as Robin - the same Robin who refuses all sort of affectionate contact, struggling to even hug her own daughter - is leaning into you, nuzzling your neck, and whispering something in your ear. You jolt up as if electrocuted, and turn towards her, shock clear on your face. What has she said to you? Miranda feels like she's going insane, stuck on the outside looking in.

And then Robin chooses that moment to plant a kiss square on your lips.

Miranda turns tail and flees.

“What the fuck, Griffin?”

“It's gonna work, trust me. I know Miranda.”

Miranda leans against the wall next to the station, in what over the years she has come to think of as your spot. If she closes her eyes, she can almost fool herself into thinking you’re by her side, as you always are, cigarette dangling from your lips, always ready with a sarcastic quip, or a funny retort. Except you're not there. You're still on your stupid happy date, that she had pushed you into, like the moron she is.

She's been chainsmoking since she came back from spying on you, and the longer it takes for you to come back, the more harshly she pulls in the smoke between her teeth, trying to lessen her stress. Trying not to picture what you and Robin could be doing that's taking the both of you so damn long.

She tries to ignore the painful constriction of her heart at what her traitorous mind conjures up. The mere thought of Robin's small hands safely ensconced in your bigger ones, of her mouth exploring yours as Miranda had been dreaming of doing even before she recognized her feelings for you, of the two of you hugging or worse, makes her want to scream at the top of her lungs and hit something.

But she can't.

You're her friend, she should want you to be happy, shouldn't she? And if that means stepping aside and supporting you in your relationship with Robin, of course she'll do just that. Because Robin is the one you're interested in and there's nobody on earth Miranda can think is more different from her than Detective Griffin. Robin simply is everything Miranda has never been: petite, professional, smart, careful and precise. It's no wonder you like her and not big, clumsy, helpless Miranda.

Miranda, who's a terrible friend and cannot even support you wholeheartedly in your new budding relationship.

Miranda shakes her head, dropping the butt of her cigarette to the ground and moodily stepping on it. She should be happy for you, should be grateful to be allowed to be your friend, it's not like she has a whole lot of those anyways. The sooner she starts to accept the fact that there's no hope for anything more between you two, the better it'll be for her poor heart.

She just didn't expect it to hurt so much.

But what's taking you so long? Is that how it's going to be from now on? You and Robin, so wrapped in each other that you forget about Miranda, leaving her alone once again, cast aside, begging for scraps of affection from her friends?

She can feel the tears filling her eyes at the mere thought.

"You're back! How…how did it go?"

Miranda’s smile is too big, her eyes too watery for it to be sincere. For the first time you allow yourself to hope against all hopes that maybe, maybe Robin has a point.

But maybe you are just seeing what you want to see.

“Are you alright, Miranda?" Her laugh is high, nervous and ends up in a sort of hiccup as she clumsily claps you on the shoulder, rocking you with the strength of the impact.

"Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be, there’s a new, blooming romance in the station! And between my best friend and my partner, to boot! Isn't that just grand? Are you gonna tell all the others about it, or should I tell them and save you the pain?”

Her happy-go-lucky voice is so fake it twists your heart and almost makes you miss what she has said.

“Nonono, there will be no telling anything to the others!”

The last thing you need is for the whole fucking station to think you and Griffin are an item. You wouldn’t hear the end of it. It’s already bad that Miranda thinks that. And hopefully you can somehow clear that up.

“Is that something Robin asked you? Does she want to keep you as her dirty little secret? You shouldn’t settle for that! You deserve more!” She gesticulates wildly at this, her hands cutting the air with agitated gestures, as she defends your honor against imaginary slights.

“That’s not it, Miranda. It’s just-“ But she cuts you off before you can get a word in.

“You shouldn't hide your feelings! You two are totally made for each other. Go be unapologetically together!”

"Why are you so adamant in pushing us together?" You finally snap, irritatedly. She's not making any sort of sense. She's trying so hard to get the two of you together even if it's obvious that she's not happy in the least about it. And even though you are starting to think more and more that this might all be a huge misunderstanding, it cuts to hear the woman you love trying so hard to set you up with someone else. What if Robin wasn’t right? What if Miranda really only saw you as a friend and nothing more?

"What do you mean? Didn't the date go well? You sure looked like you were hitting it off pretty well, and you took your sweet time, too." She mutters the second part softly, as if it has come out of her mouth without her really wanting to, then promptly blushes a deep red.

You always found her adorable when she blushed.

"Miranda, I need to know it, why were you spying on us?"

"Oh god, you saw me? I… Uhm I…I just happened to drop by Tony's, I had totally forgotten that the two of you were there. So I uhm hid, because I didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for you. Hehe, that’s all."

"Is… Is it possible that you might like me?" You throw all caution to the wind because really, at this point you need a clear answer.

"No!" She answers too quickly "Of course not! You are my friend. I like you as a friend!" Hope stirs once again, but you don't dare to believe it quite yet. Not while she keeps denying everything.

"Miranda, you are many good things, but you are a terrible liar."

She suddenly rights herself from where she was leaning against the wall and makes as if to move towards the station.

"Well, I…I need to go. I just realized that my lunchbreak was over like five minutes ago and I-"

You stop her, a hand on her wrist, and a pleading tone to your voice.

"No, please. Stay. I…"

She stops, but she stays with her back to you. When she speaks, her voice wavers ever so slightly.

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, I know what you want to say.”

“You…do? ‘Cause it seems to me that this is all a huge misunderstanding.”

“Of course. A misunderstanding. Sure, that’s one way to put it. Just another big clumsy mess, made by big clumsy Miranda. I guess we’re used to it by now, aren’t we?”

She turns now, and you are shocked to see tears streaking down her face.

“That’s not what-“

“It's OK,” she interrupts you once again, angrily wiping the wetness off her face as she looks at you with a solemn, sad look into those beautiful big blue eyes of hers, “I know that you like Robin, I would never do anything to ruin your chance with her. You really make a perfect couple, I am serious about it. I just need a little time to adjust.” Her voice is picking up speed, as if it's impossible to stop now that she's started, “I am so grateful to have you as a friend, it's not like I expected you to return my feelings. Hell, I didn't recognise them for what they are until I saw the two of you together. And I would never let something like that ruin our friendship. Everything can stay perfectly the same, even if you are with Robin and…and I know I am a terrible friend that has fallen for you after setting you up with your crush but I want you to be happy and please don't hate me."

You blink under the onslaught of words she's unleashed on you, and when she abruptly stops, all that can be heard in the small alley to the side of the station is her heavy breathing, as if she had just run a marathon. Her shoulders are shaking and you can't see her face, dipped as it is into her collarbone in shame.

Your heart breaks at seeing her like this, at the sheer thought that Miranda could believe even for one second that you hate her.

You stand right in front of her, cradling her red, downturned face in your hands, tilting it ever so slightly up from where it was staring at the pavement, so you can once again look directly into her beautiful blue eyes, now swimming with tears and swirling emotions.

She's such a mess, you think affectionately. But she's a lovely mess with the biggest of hearts, and you wouldn’t want her any other way.

"Miranda, I could never ever hate you. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I… I think I love you."

"As…as a friend?"

"No, dearest, no, not as a friend."

And you hope there's no mistaking your intentions now as you press your lips to hers in a kiss that the both of you have been daydreaming about for way too long to admit.

Liked it? You can find more of my fanfiction on my masterlist!

#miranda hilmarson fanfiction #miranda hilmarson/reader #miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda (top of the lake)#miranda hilmarson #miranda hilmarson/you #miranda hilmarson x you #gwendoline christie characters #gwendoline christie fanfiction #miranda x reader #top of the lake: china girl #tol #dianneking fanfiction #dianneking writes #dragonmist fanfiction #crossposted on ao3 #angst fairy collection #top of the lake china girl fanfiction #top of the lake fanfiction

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babybluebex · 2 years

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𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝟐 | 𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a year after you’re forced away from your beloved koner, your sister comes to visit your new home, and you’re overjoyed to find that koner is coming with her. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: koner (game of thrones) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut (MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, p in v sex, pet names), infidelity (reader is married), possessive koner my beloved 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: so many people were asking for a sequel to this, so here it is! i had a great time writing this, and i made it a little longer for all of you kiss kiss hehe also don't say i didn't warn you about the cliffhanger / follow @cremebruhleewrites to be tagged in all of my new stories!

You hadn’t really been paying attention to your husband that morning. You largely ignored him at breakfast— beautiful as he was, he was always in a foul mood first thing in the morning, and leaving him alone was usually the best course of action until he decided to be amiable (usually after his first glass of ale, had with the cured meat and porridge breakfast)— but, that morning, he said something to you that made your eyes flick up to James across the table.

Your husband, the regal prince named James, was going through all of his letters that he had delivered to him every morning, weeding out the important things and things that needed action that day, and he was presently confronted by a short correspondence that held your maiden family’s seal on the broken wax. “What?” you asked. You misheard him when he spoke just now; you had to have.

“Several members of your family are coming to visit,” James repeated himself. He looked at the pages of parchment in front of him, flicking his blue eyes up to look at you for your odd reaction. His eyebrows furrowed at you, but he turned back to his pages. “Your sister and her handmaidens, and two guards.”

Guards. There was no chance, not even the smallest possibility that Koner was one of them. Unless…? “Which guards?” you asked. "Does it say?"

James set down the pages onto the wooden table, and he tilted his head curiously. “Why do you ask?” he said.

You shrugged, trying to play off your surprise and dampen the racing of your heart. “Some of our guards were… Less than optimal,” you said, inventing a reason on the spot. “Fools, some of them were, actually. I want to know who'll be protecting my sister.”

James turned his attention to the pages, squinting his eyes to read the script, and he said, “Henk… And Koner.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the rush of blood in your ears. Koner was coming. You were going to see your love again. When you were first married to James, you had tried to keep up correspondence with Koner, but it became harder and harder to keep your letters a secret, and eventually you both agreed that, while it was heartbreaking, it was better to quit. You kept all of his letters, written in his scratchy, hardly-trained hand, in your private trunk in your personal chambers, and, sometimes, if the heartache was enough, you would tug them out and read them by candlelight. Sometimes, sitting on your floor as James slept, reading those letters, it felt like Koner was right next to you.

“Are they the incompetent sort?” James asked. “Henk and Koner?”

You cleared your throat and refocused on your breakfast, trying to set the air around you as cool and nonchalant, even though you wanted nothing more than to jump out of your seat and wait at the gates of the castle for their arrival. “Yes,” you replied. “They are. They’re good men, just maybe not good soldiers.”

James regarded you as you continued your meal, and you hoped that he wouldn’t see through you and to the truth. You were never exactly the best at keeping secrets, and even keeping the secret of the letters was taxing to you. You were terrified that James could tell that you had ulterior motives and would have your head for your infidelity. “Should I write back and tell them to bring different guards?” James asked. “I don’t want incompetent guards spoiling you and your sister’s time together.”

“Oh, no,” you shook your head quickly and wiped your mouth on your napkin, if for nothing else than to give your hands something to do other than tremor and give you away. “I’m sure they’ve already started the journey, there’s no use in diverting their whole course just to return home and bring different guards. I’m sure I’ll hardly ever see them, it’s no bother.”

James nodded slowly and set down the parchment, and he slid his chair out from the table and approached you. You watched him as he stepped closer until he was right on you, and you carefully said, “May I help you?”

“Only looking at you,” James said softly, and he reached out to touch his thumb to your bottom lip. James, in all honesty, wasn’t a bad husband. He was dutiful and kind to you, and, even though he had a mean streak when it came to others, he had only shown rage to you a handful of times. He never laid a hand on you and he always apologized after outbursts, and you grew to like him. But you could never love him.

There was never any hope of you falling in love with the prince— no, your heart was reserved for the guard at Winterfell. James was not your Koner; he was the exact opposite, long light hair and blue eyes to your Koner’s dark curly hair and blackish-brown eyes. He was loud when Koner was quiet, flamboyant where Koner was reserved. The only saving grace was that he adored you in the same fashion that Koner did; that is to say, wholly and completely. To James, you were the salt of the earth, the best woman he had ever met.

“You’re so beautiful,” James hummed softly, and he molded his palm to your cheek. In an instant, he was leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, and you kissed him back, knowing he would insist you do. Your kisses never went further than that, though; you made sure of it.

You knew that you couldn’t bear the thought of giving yourself to a man other than Koner, and, from the very first day you met James, the very day after your last night with Koner, you had made it clear to your new husband how much you valued your virtue. You could still feel Koner’s cum drying on your inner thighs as you quietly explained how important chastity was to you, and James had nodded along and said, “Whatever pleases you, my Lady.”

Since the marriage was both arranged and political, there was no ceremony, just a formal meeting in the great hall of your Winterfell home, but James had insisted on at least kissing you. Across the room, you could see Koner’s heavy gaze on you, and you carefully kissed James to seal the marriage; no sooner had you broken the kiss did you see the swish of Koner’s cloak disappear out into the corridor.

Even in his letters, Koner was bitter. He cursed at the gods for taking you away from him, and he vowed that, if he ever had you in his arms again, he would do everything in his power to keep you. You’re my girl, he wrote; the ink was still smudged from his tears. And I’ll do whatever it takes to bring you back into my arms.

“You’re quite handsome yourself,” you giggled into the kiss, and James sighed, satisfied and placated for the time being. “I love you, my husband.”

“I love you more, my wife,” James said. “I have duties to attend to today; you’ll be alright by yourself?”

“Oh, of course,” you told him. “I want to oversee the maids and make sure Sansa’s quarters are to her liking.”

“Good, good,” James mumbled, patting your shoulder. “My dear girl… I’ll see you at supper.”

The day passed torturously slowly. The party from Winterfell was expected to arrive only the next evening, which left the castle in quite a hustle and bustle to prepare. Of course, everyone was more concerned with the imminent arrival of your sister than that of the guards or handmaidens, and you watched as care was taken to fluff the pillows in a spare chamber and lay out linens for her.

You slipped away from that work, though, traveling far down into the castle to the servants’ quarters, where you knew Henk and Koner would be sleeping during the visit. Everyone there regarded you with quiet confusion that you were used to— the princess down here? What was she doing?— and you checked the small room where you assumed the two men would be. Their beds were flat, hardly more than planks of wood with threadbare blankets on them, the pillows hard slabs of fabric.

You sat down on one of the beds and flattened your hands across it, imagining what your Koner would look like as he laid there. It had only been a year, but a lot could change about a person in a year. It was nerve-wracking to you to even consider that, since ending your correspondence with him, maybe he didn’t love you anymore. Maybe he wouldn’t care for you the same way he used to when he was fucking you. The thought made your heart ache, and you clutched the pillow to your chest and let tears fall.

Sleeping next to James that night was difficult. Your dreams were thin and watery and, whenever you awoke, which seemed to be every hour or so, your brain tricked you into thinking that your dear husband was your lover. Finally, you gave up on sleep and tried to work through the steps of the next night: first, there would be a feast to greet Sansa, one that you hoped you would be able to convince James to allow Henk and Koner to be at, although you doubted you would succeed. Then, as clear as day, you imagined slipping a note into Koner’s hand; it would specify which chamber was your private chambers, the ones that James hardly ever entered, especially without some forewarning, and it would instruct him to meet you there once midnight struck. Just like old times, the note would read.

The next day was the worst yet. Nervously, you had selected your dress and gotten ready for your sister’s arrival in the morning, and you sat by the window in your gown of silver silk to match your maiden family’s crest. Your hair had been done perfectly, your skin lathered in perfumes and soft oils, and you anxiously tried to preoccupy yourself with a novel. But your hands shook too much to turn the pages, and your heart was racing so fast that you thought you might vomit it up, and you abandoned your book quickly in favor of staring out the window and watching the snow-laden ground of any sign on the party.

Finally, just as the smells of the feast began to waft through the halls of the castle, you spotted them, very far away, a dot of grey against the snow. You yelped in surprise and picked up your skirts to run to the entrance of the castle, where James and his father already were stationed. “My love, you’re panting,” James chuckled as you skidded to a stop beside him, pressing his hands to your cheeks. “And your skin is fire; are you that excited to see your sister?”

“Oh, yes!” you cried. “Thank you for letting them visit! It means the world to me!”

“Anything for you, princess,” James said, and he nestled a kiss on your cheek. “You had started to look glum, I figured a visit from your sister might cheer you up.”

James would never know that he was the cause of your gloomy mood, but he didn’t need to know. You stood, waiting for the horses and carriage to enter the grounds, and you felt faint as you watched the horses enter first. There were two, one for each guard, and your eyes locked on your lover in an instant. Oh, what a sight for sore eyes. He wore his cloak and cowl, his hands hidden by gloves, his sword hanging at his side. He held the reins of his horse deftly, steering it close to you and James, and you took a deep breath as he pulled himself from the saddle.

“My Lady,” Koner said, softly and respectfully, and he knelt in front of you as he bowed his head. Your hands shook terribly by your sides as he stood back to his full height, and a small smile passed his lips. “Winterfell has been missing your presence, my Lady.”

“I’ve missed my Winterfell as well,” you told him. It took all of your self control not to pull him in and kiss him immediately, and you smiled as Koner did, his sideways grin making your blood run hot. Then, remembering your husband beside you, you turned to James. “James, my love, this is Koner, one of Winterfell’s best guards. We’ve known each other since I was first brought to Winterfell when we were children.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” James said, and he reached out and shook Koner’s hand firmly. “It’s odd; my wife’s never mentioned you.”

“We-We weren’t close, exactly,” Koner stammered, his face flushing pink. You wanted to reprimand James for his comment then and there, but you knew that it would be in poor taste to do so, so you had to wait until you had a moment alone. “We knew each other from afar. A guard hardly has reason to cross paths with a princess.”

“Yes,” James said, and he squeezed Koner’s hand before letting go. “But I’m glad that your presence brings such a smile to her face. Look at her, isn’t she just gorgeous when she smiles?”

Koner’s eyes flicked to you, and you furrowed your eyebrows and lightly hissed at your husband. “James,” you mumbled.

“He’s right, my Lady,” Koner said, and you watched color invade his already-rosy cheeks. “You are rather pretty.”

“That’s quite enough,” a fourth voice said, and you turned to see your sister stepping out of the carriage, all shocks of red hair and elegance that you felt you hadn’t been given. “Remember your place, guard.”

Koner nodded and took a step back, and you plastered a tight smile on your face as you opened your arms for Sansa. “Sister,” you said fondly, and Sansa came and carefully hugged you, acting almost as if she didn’t want to actually hug you. “You look well.”

“The carriage ride was hell,” Sansa said. “But no matter. We're here now.”

“Sansa, this is my husband, James,” you said, and your husband took your sister’s hand and carefully kissed her fingers. “James, my sister, Sansa.”

“Pleased to finally meet you,” James said charmingly, his dazzling smile on full display. “Your sister has told me stories about you.”

“Flattering stories, I hope,” Sansa said smoothly, and you smiled.

“Only the unflattering ones,” you told her, and a tight, unamused smile crossed Sansa’s face; it seemed as if she already liked James much more than she ever liked you. “Don’t you know me at all, sister?”

“Please, come,” James said, still holding Sansa’s hand, tearing the attention away from you. “A feast awaits.”

You watched your husband lead your sister inside the castle, the two already lost in their own conversation, and you turned back to Koner for just a moment, just to look at him. He still looked a bit down from being reprimanded, but, when your eyes met his, a smile passed his face. “Those two’ll be occupied, eh?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

Carefully, you stretched your hand out to him. The sleeve of your dress obscured the better part of your hand, and it hid your thumb that was tucked to your palm, holding the note for him. “You haven’t kissed my hand,” you told him. “How will you show your loyalty if not by kissing my hand?”

“Forgive the misstep, my Lady,” Koner said, and he took a gentle hold on your fingers before he raised the flat of your hand to his lips. Despite the coldness, his mouth was warm against your knuckles, and you were thankful when his fingers itched in your palm, dragging the note into his own hand. His hand clenched into a fist as he settled it by his side, and he dropped his head to you in a bow. “It’s truly nice to see you, my Lady,” he told you. “Winterfell isn’t the same without you.”

Even though people were still milling around, you took a chance to be bold, and you said, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Koner said. “Girl.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” James asked, smoothing your hair down with one big hand. He was a devoted husband, you had to give him that. During dinner, you had succeeded in feigning sick, saying that the day’s excitement was too much and that you felt ill, and, although it seemed a bit melodramatic, you stumbled and fell into your husband’s arms to really secure the deal. James was quick to bring you to your private chambers, per your mumbled and gasped requests, and he stood at the door as your handmaidens loosened your corset and took you down to your shift.

“Yes, my love,” you whispered weakly. “I’ll be perfectly alright. I think I’m just exhausted from today.”

“It was a big day for you,” James conceded. “You miss Winterfell terribly, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “But hopefully this small slice of home will fix my aching heart. Please, though, don’t let me keep you from the night. You and Sansa seem to be getting on well; go speak to her.”

“Darling—”

“Go, Jamie,” you urged him firmly. You knew how much he liked the little nickname you had given him, and he melted under your gaze. “Have fun.”

“I will,” James told you, and you blew him a kiss as he crossed the room. “I love you, my darling.”

“I love you more,” you told him, and you settled back into your pillows and blankets as James left, shutting the door behind him. You never slept in your private chambers and were in fact quite unfamiliar with them, but you sat up and carefully crept out of bed all the same. Your heart thudded inside your ribcage as you settled by the window and waited for Koner.

Your anxieties returned the further in the sky the moon went. Did he still love you? Did he want anything to do with you? You almost wanted to cry, considering it. The longer you waited, the louder the thoughts grew in your head, and you wiped away a stray tear as you sighed. He would come. Your small, unassuming banter at the castle entrance was enough proof to you that he would come. After all, he had kissed your hand, just like how he used to, his eyes focused up on your face instead of closed, and he had taken the note.

Then, came three solid knocks on the thick wooden door. Your heart jumped into your throat as you whirled to face the door, and, in the candlelight, you watched the door open just a crack. A quiet whisper reached your ears as well, a Northern accent whispering out, “Girl?”

“Yes!” you gasped, standing as the door opened fully. Koner was quick to slip inside and shut the door behind him, and he stood still for a moment, his chest heaving as he watched you.

“Is this a dream?” he asked softly. He took a step closer, hesitantly, as if he were afraid of making the wrong move, but you had him beat. You raced across your chambers to him, and you threw yourself into his arms. The cold of his leather armor bit through your thin shift and singed your skin, but he was so strong and warm that you didn’t care about it. His arms met your body firmly, holding you around the waist and digging hard into your hips and side, and he buried his face in your neck as he lifted you from the ground with the might of his embrace.

“Koner!” you whimpered, clutching at his armor. You were quick to shove the stupid cowl off of his head and expose his curls, and your eyes went all watery when you saw how long his hair had gotten. It was only slightly longer than the last time you saw him, now curling around his ears in caramel waves, but it was a change. Time had passed, hearts had broken, but he was here with you.

“My girl,” Koner gasped. “Let me look at you.” He set you back on the ground and his hands, still gloved, captured your face, and he sniffled lightly as his eyes greedily examined your cheeks and forehead and nose and eyes, every bit of your face that he could see. “Oh my Gods, how I’ve missed gazing upon your face.”

“I’ve missed you so much,” you sobbed, smoothing down his curls. “Your hair, it’s so—”

“I look like a mangy dog,” Koner said, and you shook your head quickly.

“Not even in the slightest,” you told him. “You’re so handsome. Just as handsome as the day I lost you.”

“I am so glad to see you,” Koner said. “I can’t help myself, I need to…” He trailed off, and he leaned down to kiss you. His lips against yours were familiar yet foreign, your lips having the faintest memory of him, and you cried into the kiss before you threw your arms around his neck and tugged him closer to you. You had missed him so terribly, but everything was alright now. He was here, if only for a week’s time. A week was better than a full lifetime without him ever again.

“I love you,” you told him. “I love you so much, I missed you…”

“I love you too, girl,” Koner whispered. “I’ve never stopped, and I’ll never love another as I love you.”

You sniffled and mopped up your tears, and you beckoned him over to the bed, settling down with him. He took a moment to remove his armor and set it on the floor, just as he always used to, but he didn’t stop there, taking off his underthings to expose his warm skin to you. You followed his lead, ridding yourself of your shift, and you buried yourself deep in his arms, taking a deep breath of the smell of him. Gods, you had even missed the scent of his musk.

“You’re so soft,” Koner whispered, his hands smoothing down your legs and sides and arms. “I remembered you being soft, but not this… You’re being treated well here, then?”

“I am,” you said. “Hot baths with oils and perfumes and such. Treated like a princess.”

Koner scoffed at your poor joke, and he grabbed your face roughly and pulled you to kiss him again. This kiss was hungrier, his head tilted and his tongue lathing inside your mouth, and his hands grabbed hard at your ass and thighs. You moaned softly, a whine of a thing, and you tossed your leg over his and pulled yourself to sit across his hard, hairy thigh. “Just a princess?” he asked, breaking away for a moment. “Not a queen?”

“I’m not a queen,” you told him, chasing his lips for another hard kiss.

“I’d treat you like a queen,” Koner told you, his words floating on the air and into your mouth. “I’d treat you like a goddess.”

“You already—” you started, and you moaned softly when Koner’s skilled hand reached down and cupped your cunt, molding his palm to your skin. “You already do.”

“How’d you like to be my wife?” Koner asked. His fingers teased you, threatening to dip inside you any moment, and he smiled into the kiss, knowing exactly the effect he had on you.

“I’d love to be,” you told him. “There’s only the one problem: I’m already another man’s wife.”

“Fuck him,” Koner said. “You’re his wife by day, you’re mine by night.”

“That wouldn’t be enough for you,” you giggled. “You’re satisfied with me at night, but what happens when you want to fuck during the day?”

Koner paused, seeming playfully stumped, and he kissed you again. “My dearest girl,” he whispered. “As if that would stop me.”

“Maybe we can run away together,” you said. “To the countryside, and we can be together without anyone recognizing us. Then, you can fuck me all day if you wish.”

Koner gave a growling moan into your mouth, and he bit your bottom lip and tugged it out before he kissed you once more. “You have no idea how wonderful that sounds,” he said. “We should do it. We can run away during the night, my horse is here. We’ll be long gone before they even realize you’re missing.”

You moaned softly, but you broke the kiss. “Oh, but I can’t do that,” you sighed. “I have a duty here—”

“What duty?” Koner asked. “Your husband and Sansa seemed to get along, he can marry her once the rascal guard’s kidnapped you, then the alliance stands.”

“And that!” you said. “If we’re both missing, they’ll assume you kidnapped me, and then my father and James and James’s father will be out for your head.”

“Not if you left a note.”

“Koner,” you sighed. “I can’t. I know it upsets you, but I can’t just run away with you. I shouldn't have even brought it up.”

“I know,” Koner whispered. “But a man can dream, can’t he?”

“I suppose so,” you told him. “No harm in dreaming.”

“I thought I was dreaming when I heard that I’d be coming here to see you,” Koner said. “I asked to come, practically begged to be assigned to guard Sansa. They were hesitant to send me, but I’m glad I got through to them.”

“Me too,” you whispered, and you kissed him once more. His lips pressed against yours sweetly, still heavy with desire but gentle with love, and you touched his chest as his fingers finally slid past your flesh and inside you. It had been so long since you felt his touch— really, any touch, since you weren’t having sex with James— but the fact that it was Koner’s touch that ended your abstinence made your heart all but melt.

“Fuck,” Koner groaned against your lips. “Still so tight… I missed you.”

His fingers felt as good as you remembered, thick and warm inside you, and he slowly began to pump his fingers inside you. The drag of him was beautiful, and you moaned into his mouth as your hands came to anchor on his broad, tough shoulders.

“Just like that,” Koner whispered. He carefully rolled you to the bed, settling between your open legs as his fingers fucked you, and he lightly bit your lip as his fingers curled inside you to stroke that nerve that made your thighs quiver. “I remember this, I remember the way my girl likes it. You like it all sweet and slow, huh?”

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Fuck, Koner.”

“Oh, the mouth on you,” Koner chuckled. He buried his head in your neck and lightly kissed your skin, giving you just the sweetest kisses, not even letting his teeth catch you. You knew how badly he wanted to mark you, to prove that you were his and let everyone else know, and you cradled his head in your hand as Koner sighed. “You always did have such a foul mouth.”

“Some things never change,” you whispered.

“Thank the Gods for that,” Koner said. He pressed his tongue to your throat, just over the point where your blood thrummed under your skin, and he gave your soft skin a gentle suck. You shivered in his arms and moaned softly at the hot flash of pleasure that struck your belly, and your hips bucked up into his hand, his fingers still fucking you. “D’ya want more, girl? Is this not enough for you?”

“Not nearly,” you told him, your body writhing in his grip. “More, my love, more.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” Koner whispered into your wet skin. His breath fanned across the wetness, and you sank deeper into the bed as Koner pulled his fingers from you. You could hardly wait for him, and Koner chuckled as you wrapped your legs tight around his waist. “Greedy. I oughta make you beg for it.”

“You wouldn’t,” you giggled, and Koner cocked a dark eyebrow at you.

“I certainly can,” Koner said. “But I won’t. Even if I did, I’d cave in an instant and give you what you want before you could even finish your sentence.”

“You love me,” you teased him, and you smiled widely when Koner placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. His cock was half-hard, hanging thick between his legs, and you reached for it and carefully stroked his hot, soft skin. “You’d do anything for me.”

“I would, my love,” Koner told you. He bit his bottom lip as you squeezed your hand around the base of his cock. “I’d do whatever you want me to.”

“Kiss me,” you whispered, and Koner didn’t hesitate for a second before he sealed his lips to yours. His tongue claimed your mouth, his hands coming up to grab your face firmly, and you gasped at his roughness. “Fuck, Koner, my love. Fuck me, please.”

“I will, my girl, I will,” Koner whispered. “My girl… Fuck, open your legs wider.”

You did as he told you, squeezing your thighs tightly around your hips, and Koner looked down at you for a moment, admiring your fluttering cunt, before he conjured a mouthful of saliva and spit down onto you. You shivered again at the feeling of it, but Koner didn’t give you time to adjust to the feeling before he was plunging his hard cock into you.

Your back arched at the feeling of his thick cock splitting you, a feeling that you thought you’d never feel again. Your hands clamped down onto his shoulders and you whined at the sting that you had forgotten about, and Koner pouted his lips as he shushed you, carding his fingers soothingly through your hair. “I know,” he whispered. “It hurts, I know, I’m sorry, my girl.”

“I don’t care,” you gasped. “Fuck me.”

“Girl—”

“I appreciate that you care,” you started, pressing your fingernails threateningly into Koner’s skin. “But please, fuck me now and apologize later.”

“Gods,” Koner chuckled. His cock throbbed inside you, and a flush invaded his cheeks. “I love it when you get like this.”

“Desperate?” you asked, and Koner nodded. He pulled his hips back, pulling himself out all except the spongy head of his cock, and he carefully snapped his hips forward, back into you, and you moaned softly at the familiar pleasure.

“So desperate,” Koner whispered. “So needy for me. I nearly forgot what your moans sounded like.”

“I almost forgot how good you felt,” you told him, and Koner leaned down and stole a kiss before he repeated his movements, pulling out and spearing in.

“I never forgot how good you felt,” Koner said. “You’re the best cunt I’ve ever had.”

“Is that all I am to you?” you asked with a smile, and Koner chuckled. “Just a cunt to fuck?”

“Oh, yes,” Koner said, rolling his eyes. “Yes, the beautiful princess of Winterfell, all you are to me is a piece of meat I stick my cock in. All those times I said I’d marry you, it was just to make sure I could keep fucking you.”

“Dirty boy,” you said, and Koner touched his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you so much,” Koner replied, and you rolled your hips up to meet Koner’s. He buried himself fully inside you, his taut balls hitting your ass, and a shuddering moan passed through his body. “Please, darling, run away with me. We can be together, we can ride to King’s Landing and change our names and be together.”

“Koner,” you sighed. “I told you—”

“Then, lie,” Koner said through gritted teeth. You could see his eyes sparkling wetly with tears, and he fucked you as he sniffled. “Fucking lie to me. Fucking break my heart and lie to me and tell me how we can be together.”

Your heart flipped inside your chest and plummeted into your stomach, and you swallowed back tears as you touched your hand softly to his cheek. “We can do it,” you told him, hardly a whisper. “We can run away together to King’s Landing and change our names. We-We’ll live in a small house, just enough for the two of us, we’ll farm and do everything ourselves. We can do it, Koner. We can be together.”

“That sounds so good,” Koner whispered, fucking into you hard. He grabbed your hips and anchored himself there, and he fucked you quickly, almost like he was afraid you’d disappear before he was finished with you. Even though you were crying, your body still responded to him, and you moved with him, your body taking everything he gave you and giving back more. “Tell me how I’ll get to call you mine.”

“Of course you will,” you told him. “You can marry me, if you want that.”

“I do,” Koner said. “I never realized how much I wanted that until I couldn’t have it. Seeing you meet that man, it was too much for me.”

“I saw you leave the room,” you told him. Koner’s hips slowed to a gentle and slow pace, and his arms moved to envelop you tightly, pressing your chest to his. You could feel his heartbeat against your skin, quick like a rabbit’s, and you gently brushed a curl behind his ear. “Did it hurt that much?”

“I’ve loved you since I was a child,” Koner told you. “I always hoped that, maybe someday, it would be you that I married. But seeing you with him… At least tell me he treats you well. It would soothe my mind, knowing he treats you the way you deserve.”

“James is nice,” you said softly. “He has a temper, but—“

“Does he hurt you?” Koner asked, suddenly incensed. His eyes flickered dark for a moment, and he added, “Because I won’t hesitate to kill him now if he’s hurt you.”

“No, no,” you said quickly. “No, he’s perfectly nice to me.”

“Does he satisfy you?” Koner asked. “Does he fuck you better than me?”

“I wouldn’t know,” you told him, and confusion etched itself in Koner’s sweet face.

“Do you mean that he’s never brought you to finish?” Koner asked. “My Gods, what a lousy man.”

“No,” you began. “When I first met him, I did lead him astray; I lied to him, told him that I valued my virtue above all else. We’ve only ever made love once, on the night we got married, and only in order to consummate our marriage.”

“Why would you do that? Lie to him and all?” Koner asked. “He’s everything you should want, rich and handsome and a prince, why would you—“

“Because he’s not you,” you told him. Your hand returned to his face and you pulled him into a soft kiss as the bed creaked underneath you, and, against his mouth, you whispered, “Nobody can ever be you. I didn’t want to give myself to anyone else; I despise even kissing him, because I’d rather your lips be the only ones I know.”

“You’re perfect,” Koner whispered, and he sighed heavily as his fingers dug hard into your hips. You knew that he was likely leaving bruises in his wake, things you’d have to explain away to your husband as a side effect of the mysterious illness that sent you to bed in the first place, but you were glad to do it. “My perfect girl… Will I be allowed here every night of my visit?”

“Of course,” you whispered. Koner thrusted into you, and you gave a yelp as the head of his cock speared inside you hard. It didn’t hurt, but it certainly felt good enough for you to squeeze your legs around his waist and whimper out, “Koner!”

“Shh, darling,” Koner whispered. “I know. Are you close?”

The raging fire in your belly made you nod, and you tugged him down into a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and hot breath. “Make me come,” you whispered, and Koner groaned deep in his chest as he grabbed at your flesh and held you tightly. “Do what James never did.”

“Fuck,” Koner groaned, and his hands traveled down to your thighs, holding you open for him as he fucked you. Every thrust was utter bliss, Koner laying his kisses on your mouth and neck every time, and you held him close and moaned softly in his ear. “Gods, your moans are gorgeous. How am I supposed to leave you after this?”

“You don’t have to,” you told him, and you moaned as his cock speared that spot inside you again. His thrusts were getting sloppy and wet, his belly quivering, his cheeks and chest red with exertion; he looked so beautiful that it made your heart hurt. “Just as long as you’re not here when my handmaidens come for me.”

“Just like the old days,” Koner laughed, and his eyebrows knit together tightly as your body shivered against his. “C’mon, girl, I know how close you are. Come for me.”

He was right; you were so close to your orgasm that you could taste it on your own tongue. Hot bolts of lightning flashes through your stomach and thighs and up into your brain, nearly freezing you as you laid in his arms, and your back arched as Koner’s skilled fingers touched that small nerve just above where he sank into you. You were so sensitive and so close already that a single touch was all it took, and you grabbed at his shoulders and the back of his neck to ground yourself as you came.

Your vision went white and hazy for a moment as the pleasure filled your body, and you sobbed out in ecstasy as your head fell back into the pillow. You could hear Koner shushing you under the dull rushing in your ears, and you dragged him back into another messy kiss as you panted. You had forgotten how good Koner made you feel, how hard he made you come, and you whimpered when he pulled himself away from your mouth. “Inside?” Koner asked softly, and you nodded, understanding his question. Yes, he could come inside you, as many times as he wanted. He could do whatever he wanted to you, and you would gladly let him.

“I love you,” Koner whispered, and he pushed himself deep inside you, earning him an overstimulated gasp from you. In an instant, he was squeezing his eyes shut, and his cock flexed inside you before he was spilling himself inside you, filling you with his sticky spend. You could never tire of the feeling, and you gasped and sighed as your cunt throbbed around him, milking him for every last drop. “Fuck, girl, I love you.”

“We should do it,” you started, talking senselessly. “We-We should run away together, you were right. We can go to King’s Landing, nobody will ever know who we are, a-and we can be together. We can leave tonight—”

“Hush, girl,” Koner whispered. His hand lightly touched your burning cheek, and he laid a gentle kiss on your lips. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I’m not!” you insisted. “Let’s do it, just you and me. Please, Koner, you might be alright with me breaking your heart, but I’m not okay with you doing the same to me. Don’t break my heart, my love. Take me away from this.”

Koner bit his lip, as if he were actually considering it, but he shook his head. “Do you know how much trouble we’d get in if we were caught?” he asked.

“That’s what makes it fun,” you told him, and Koner scoffed.

“Who are you?” Koner asked. “And what have you done with my girl? What’s gotten into you? You know how dangerous this is—”

“But we can be together,” you said firmly. “Don’t tell me that you weren’t serious earlier.”

“I was,” Koner said. “I am. I want nothing more than to run away with you—”

“Then, what are you waiting for?” you asked, and you pulled him into a kiss. His arms held you close to him, his hand skating up your back to hold the back of your head, and you whispered, “Take me away.”

#koner got #koner x reader #koner smut #koner game of thrones #koner #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x reader smut #my writing

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holdmytesseract · 1 year

Text

It's Okay To Be Scared

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: A 'slumber party' ends in a distaster for you and your son. Can Daryl save you two?

Warnings: usual twd stuff, walkers, weapons, angst, panic? fluff! Daryl being an amazing dad and husband

Set in Season 4!

Word Count: 2,5k

a/n: Here we go! 😄 This just randomly popped up in my head, when I watched this scene (I think you'll know which scene I mean.). I had to write it, hehe. ☺️ Also, Teddy's the cutest. I love him. 😍

Divider by my lovely friend @fictive-sl0th <3

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @bookofsecretjourneys @azanoni @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute

Masterlist

"Mommy?" You turned your head at the sound of your five-year-old son's quiet, hesitant voice urging to your ears. "Hey, bud, what's up?" You smiled at the young boy, squatting down to be on an eye-level with him. The bright sun of Georgia shone through the barred windows of the C-Block, dipping the grey hallway in a soft yellow light. The sunrays got caught in the little boy's brown curls, causing them to shimmer. He may have inherited Daryl's hair colour, but not his actual hair. The kid definitely had your soft curls. Your eyes scanned your son's face and body. From his blue-grey eyes, which resembled his father's, over his little snub nose and rosy cheeks, all the way down his slightly too big clothes. His black t-shirt fitted him perfectly, but the jeans vest was definitely too big, just like his tattered and ripped jeans. You had to smile. He looked so much like his dad. Speaking of... "Where did you leave your daddy, huh? I thought you wanted to help him outside, checking the fences?" You wouldn't have let him join his dad, if you weren't aware that the boy was in the safest hands possible. He nodded, but looked at you with a sad and angsty expression. "Y-Yes, but... There were so many m-monsters, I-I got scared." Your expression softened, before you pulled the boy into a hug, "Oh baby..." and kissed his head.

It hadn't been easy for Teddy to understand, that the world was suddenly different now. Dangerous. Scary. He had been still a toddler when the world went to shit, but that didn't make it easier to explain. Why there was so much blood and death. Why there were suddenly scary looking people, who wanted to literally eat him. You and Daryl had a hard time adjusting Teddy to all of this. He had already seen so much. Things a kid should never see, but you couldn't change it. It wasn't in your hands. You never wanted this life for him, but it was how it was now.

Teddy looked up to his dad, of course, saw how Daryl helped the group, got food on the table and so on. His dad was his hero, without a doubt - and he wanted to be just like him. Be just as brave and fearless. The problem? Teddy was, after all still a child - and got scared very easily. Something he inherited from you. You were just the same, especially as a child and quite often even today. Some might say Teddy was a bit all bark and no bite - what you thought was quite cute. It was okay for him to be a child. He had to grow up into a man soon enough...

"You know that it's okay to be scared, yes? Always remember that, because being scared helps us sometimes. It's important." Teddy cuddled closer against your chest, both little arms wrapped tightly around you. "I-I know, but daddy's never scared..." You backed up from the hug, shaking your head. "Oh he is, Teddy. He's very good at hiding it." You said, running your hand through his long hair. It reached almost his shoulders by now. You could've cut it, of course, but Teddy looked way too sweet with longer hair. The boy nodded, although visibly not entirely convinced by your words and shuffled his feet nervously. "What was it you wanted to ask me, sweetie?" You decided to change the topic, distracting your son's mind from the walkers. It seemed to do the trick. Teddy smiled softly. "Can I stay at Nick's cell tonight?" Nick - one of the Woodbury kids and now Teddy's best friend. "Of course, bud. Does Nick's mama know?" Again, the boy nodded. "Uh.Huh... Nick said he's goin' to tell her." "Perfect." You smiled at him and stood up again. "Now go out play, while the sun's still out. I saw Patrick and Carl playing soccer outside. Maybe you can join, huh?" Teddy nodded, but tugged nervously on the red bandana around his neck, which his daddy had gifted him. There was something else occupying his mind. You could tell. "Is there something else, sweetie?" Once more he nodded, blue-grey eyes meeting yours again. "Can you, uh, stay with me tonight, mommy?" "At Nick's?" "Uh.Huh..." You smiled softly, tucking a few wild curls behind his ear. "I thought you are such a big boy already?" "Y-Yes, but... Please mommy..." Teddy looked at you with big, pleading eyes - and suddenly, you had a guess. "Are you having nightmares again?" The little boy nodded, grimacing, in order to suppress his tears. He tried so hard to be strong. "Oh no, I'm so sorry. Come here, baby." You opened your arms for Teddy again. An offer he took gladly. You lifted him up in your arms, not caring that he got pretty heavy for you to lift meanwhile. A few silent tears wetted your t-shirt. Teddy was plagued by nightmares almost regularly. He always had a hard time sleeping peacefully, but since the death took over the world, it became even harder for him - which was understandably. And whenever he woke up at night, afraid and crying from another nightmare, the only way to help Teddy was his dad. When Daryl wasn't here, you tried to help your son as well, but nobody was as helpful as his daddy.

"I'm coming with you tonight, okay?" Another nod. Teddy wasn't a child of many words - just like another important man in your life was. His small tear-stained cheeks glistened in the sun, causing your heart to ache. You knew exactly what you had to do now. "C'mon." You adjusted him on your arms, before you left the C-Block and made your way through the corridors out on the yard, eyes searching for your husband. Luckily, you found him pretty quick. He was preparing for the run he was about to go on, with Sasha, Glenn, Tyreese, Bob, Zack and Michonne. Daryl saw you approaching him, of course and was immediately alerted, since you were carrying Teddy. He wiped his dirty hands on a rug, stood up and met you on your way. "Hey, babe." Daryl looked at you and his boy, concerned. "Wha' happened?" "Nightmares," you mouthed, which was enough information for Daryl. He didn't need to know more. He placed a hand on the boy's back. "Hey, buddy, c'mere." Teddy didn't let himself tell that twice, unlocked his arms from around your neck and wrapped them around his father's, clinging to him for dear life. You gave Daryl a sorrow look, causing him to lean over to you and place a quick kiss on your cheek, "I got it." before he turned around and walked away with Teddy in his arms. Guess the run had to wait...

"Alright, baby, I'm going now, okay?" Daryl nodded from where he laid in the bed of the cell your small family shared, hands crossed behind his head. "Ya really wanna leave me alone tonight?" He almost pouted, causing you to giggle softly. Teddy wasn't your only child sometimes. "You know that Teddy asked me to, but you can join if you want." He scoffed at your words. "Nah, wouldn't wanna interrupt your girl's night." You giggled again and stepped over to him, in order to kiss him. "Love you." "Love ya, too." "Sleep tight, see you tomorrow." Daryl nodded, pulling you in for another kiss. "See ya." You grabbed your things, blew him a kiss and left the cell, tiptoeing down the dark corridors to cell block D. Little did you know, that staying with Teddy that night in the D-block was going to end in a disaster. A deathly disaster.

That night, you slept way too tight, to hear the soft snarling and growling of the polite and kind young man Patrick had once been, nor the heavy, slurping footsteps which passed the empty cell you were sleeping in, right beside the cell Teddy was sleeping in with Nick and Anne - his mom. You were completely exposed to the threat, lurking in the shadows of the night - but you didn't know it. Nobody knew it.

Daryl had been up quite early that day, just like Rick and Carl. He had just slipped into his beige shirt with the torn off sleeves, as he heard a loud noise ringing through the corridors, causing everyone which was still asleep to wake up - without a doubt. He furrowed his brows. It sounded like a... gunshot! Without hesitation, the archer grabbed his crossbow and stormed out of the cell, just like several others. Carol for example. "What was that?!" "Sounded like a gunshot." "Where from?!" Just after the words had left Carol's mouth, another gunshot was echoing through the walls. The answer of Carol's question was quickly answered, causing the man's eyes to widen and heart to run a hundred miles per hour. The D-Block. It came, without a doubt from the D-Block. "It comes from the D-Block." Daryl breathed out, before he started to run like a mad man, straight towards the block; Carol following him.

The scene he walked into wasn't one he hadn't seen before and yet it scared the shit out of him, because he knew that his wife and son were somewhere in the middle of it... There was blood everywhere. Dead and bitten men and women laid on the floor. The still living people ran around in panic, trying to flee from the walkers, which were trying to get another bite out of the people. There were screams and cries everywhere. "Shit!" The archer cursed, his mind immediately wandering to you and Teddy. He desperately hoped that the both of you were alright. Without wasting another second, he threw himself into the fray, killing every walker on his way. "Teddy! Y/N!" He screamed out, eyes frantically scanning his surroundings. It wasn't easy to overlook this chaos. "Daryl!" He heard Rick shouting at him. "I got it!" Signalling him, that he had the door situation under control. Not that Daryl cared about this in that moment. All he cared about was you and his son. Nevertheless, he gave Rick a short, hasty nod, before he continued his search.

"Teddy! Y/N!" He screamed from the top of his lungs through the loud noise. "Daddy!" Daryl heard a child scream out - his child. He would recognise Teddy's voice everywhere. "Teddy!" He yelled again, looking around to find him and point out where the voice was coming from. To his sheer luck he found him - just in time. The boy sat on the ground, crouched into a corner, crying, with a walker stumbling straight into his direction. Daryl's eyes widened in shock, but nevertheless he reacted fast, ran over and rammed his knife in the back of the walker's head, carelessly throwing the dead body aside. "Teddy!" The archer fell to his knees in front of his son, pulling his small, trembling body immediately close to his. "Are you okay?!" Daryl's eyes scanned Teddy's body for any bites or injuries. The small boy nodded, yes, and clung to his father, still crying. Daryl held him close to his body with his free arm, standing up again. "Teddy, where's your momma?!" "I-I dunno." Cried Teddy. Once again, Daryl looked around frantically, still not able to find you - but he found Carol. "Carol!" His best friend turned to face him. "Can ya take Teddy somewhere safe? I-I gotta find Y/N!" Carol nodded, of course, took the boy immediately in her arms. "You go with aunt Carol, okay? I'll go, find momma." Teddy cried even more, but let himself got carried out of danger from Carol. It broke Daryl's heart to leave his son like that, but he had to find you. "Y/N!" He ran to check the cells, killing another walker on his way. Remembering, that Nick's and Anne's cell was on the second floor, he was quick to run up the stairs, checking the upper cells as well. "Y/N!" "Daryl?!" He heard your voice calling out immediately, causing relief to wash over him. You were alive. He found you locked up in a cell, with a dead walker to your feet and another one in front of the barred door, trying to get its filthy hands on you. Daryl was quick to get disposed of the walker and opening the cell door with shaky hands. "Daryl!" You cried out, running into his arms. You were utterly rattled, covered in blood. "You okay, sunshine?!" Daryl asked you, strong arms keeping you close to his body. "Y-Yes, b-but I lost Teddy. I-I don't know where he is!" You cried, sobbing into your husband's shirt. "W-What if he's dead! Oh g-gods!" You felt how your knees gave in, but Daryl caught you. He immediately shook his head, trying to comfort you. "Hey, hey, hey, Y/N, stay with me, 's alright. I found him. He's alright. He's with Carol." "O-Our baby's o-okay?" "Yes, sunshine. He's safe. Teddy's safe." "O-Oh thank g-god... I-I was so afraid of him, b-but I couldn't leave to search for him. T-This walker had me trapped a-and- oh gods..." "Shh, shhh, it's okay, 'm here." Daryl's calming voice urged to your ears, despite the loud noise. "We gotta get you outta here." He said, before hoisting you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style down the corridor, the stair and past Rick. "You got this?!" Rick nodded. Glenn had joined the chaos as well in the meantime. "We got it! Look after your family!" Daryl gave Rick a thankful nod, before he left the horrendous scene and took you back to the C-Block.

The archer laid you down on the bed in your shared cell, before he called out for his friend. "Carol?" No minute later, she approached with a still shaking Teddy in her arms. "Did you find her?" Daryl nodded, taking Teddy back in his arms. "Thank god. She alright?" "Yeah, jus' quite rattled." Carol nodded in understanding. "I'll go, take care of the other survivors." "Thanks." "No need to thank me," she said, giving Daryl a small smile, before she left.

"Daddy... Where's mommy?" His son asked, voice trembling. "She's here, buddy. She's okay. We are all okay, alright? Everything's goin' ta be fine." His words seemed to calm down the boy a bit, but not as much as being back in his mother's embrace. Daryl stayed with you and Teddy for a long while, even after the boy had passed out from all the exhaustion, sleeping tightly. Hopefully without having nightmares...

Now Daryl sat behind you on the bed, while you leaned against his chest, hands intertwined. "What happened?" The archer asked in a quiet voice, eyes trained on the sleeping Teddy. You shrugged your shoulders. "I don't know, honestly. I was sleeping and suddenly I heard those screams. I got up quickly, looked outside - and there were walkers everywhere. People we knew, suddenly turned. Then everything became chaotic. I tried to react and look for Teddy, but then there were those two walkers..." You said, shaking your head at the vivid memory. "Do you know what happened? What caused this? Did Rick say something?" "Not yet, but we're gonna find out."

#daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon oneshot #twd #twd fan fic #twd oneshot #twd fanfic

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quills-of-freedom · 1 year

Text

Short Story ~

First kiss with Reiner Braun 💋

Female Bodied Reader X Reiner Braun

You're just about halfway through cadets and the tension between you and Reiner has been thick for a while now. Caught in a downpour, his true gentleman self certainly shines through and you just can't seem to resist his authentic charm...

Tag list info here 🐙

Themes: Fluff. Soft.

Warnings: None.

It’s into year two of the cadets. Reiner finally has you all to himself as you browse the market stalls in the quaint town of the Trost District.

But a summer shower quickly dampens his already low spirits, knowing these feelings for you are strictly forbidden…

As the sky began to darken over Trost, Reiner glanced up at the gathering clouds and wondered if he should call it a day. He was reluctant to; it wasn’t very often he got to have you all to himself.

His golden eyes glanced at you as you pondered over the stall you were standing at – the vendor excited to show the wares. His eyes then fell to the pavement under his feet. You looked gorgeous as usual. The white dress hugged your curves and it flowed right down to just above the ankles. He’d noticed the glances you'd gotten from men, of course he did. He also noticed the second looks he had gotten.

Eyes filled with envy.

Those men thought you were a couple and Reiner secretly loved it. What he wouldn’t give for that to be true.

“Reiner?” Your soft voice called out, snapping his attention.

“What do you think of these gloves for Mikasa? They’d definitely help with her training.”

Sweet y/n.

Whenever you had spare money, you would spend it on your friends. Mikasa had been getting blisters from her pairing blade hilts. They’d joked she takes out her frustration towards Eren’s behaviour out on her grip; pretending they were his neck.

“Uh, yeah. I think they’ll come in handy, sure.” He replied half dazed.

“Everything okay?” you ask as you hand the salesperson the cash. “You seem a bit out of it.”

He instantly pulled up his usual facade. “Me? I’m fine. Looks like it’s going to rain though. We should head back.”

“Okay.” You smile slightly, taking the paper bag with the leather gloves inside. You both began to walk down the street back towards the barracks.

He silently kicked himself.

He wanted to take each step as slowly as possible, trying to wring out as much alone time as he could.

When did it get so bad?

If you didn’t have your swarm of friends around her constantly, and Bertolt didn’t act as his shadow, maybe he wouldn’t be so desperate to be alone with you in the first place.

Why did he even want that though?

He wasn’t dense. He knew he had a soft spot for you and despite his best friend’s warnings, he ignored his advice to stay away. It got worse and worse like an neglected cavity in a tooth. The longer he left it, the deeper you bore into him. He wondered if the pain of a toothache would be better than this constant yearning to be near you.

When did he become so pathetic? When did he become so… weak?

Reiner Braun was the strongest male in the 104th with the highest grades. Dedicated. Focused. Yet this H/C’d girl walking beside him with her sparkling e/c eyes could easily bring him to his knees.

He’d gone through the implications in his head over and over. His friends from back home wouldn’t approve. It’s not like they didn’t like you… In fact he was surprised how well you got along with them.

It was because they didn’t join cadets to fool around with beautiful women.

They were there to return home. Home… He wondered what his family would think of her. That was when he shook his head.

No.

There wasn’t any use in going down that trail.

“Oh no…” You wince as fat rain drops began to fall from the swollen clouds.

It was a summer day so you didn’t think to bring a jacket. In fact, none of your friends earlier had been wearing one.

Within seconds the heavy drops were crashing down all around you both, people ran for cover and merchants began to hurriedly set up a canopy over their goods.

Reiner grabbed your wrist and began to run.

With his free hand, he began undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“Summer shower.” He explained. “It won’t last long, but it’ll be a soaker.”

Women around you let out a squeal as a loud rumble of thunder echoed out over the town. Puddles were already forming as Reiner hurriedly led you down the clearing street. As you ran, water splashed around your ankles as the water was already collecting on the road.

“What are you doing?!” you called out over the loud crashing of water. “You’ll catch your death!” By the time you uttered the last word of your sentence, he whipped around and lay his large shirt over your head before returning to pull you along.

Not long after, you’d reached the stables where the transport horses were kept. It was deserted, being the cadets weekend off and were carting the soldiers to their home towns for the next couple of days.

“Dont want that pretty dress to be ruined, do we?” he joked, yet his face stayed serious.

“Reiner…” you whispered in awe, inaudible due to the crashing rain.

Reiner pushed open the large wooden door of the hay storage barn, before ushering you inside.

“Are you crazy?” you laughed once they were tucked in away from the downpour.

Beads of rain rolled down his bare flesh, trailing down his pronounced pectorals and solid abs.

Reiner shrugged. “Didn’t want you getting cold and wet.”

Your eyes softened gorgeously as he turned to rub his hand over his hair, getting excess droplets off him.

His back muscles flexed with every small movement before he turned back around, Goosebumps raising on his skin and his nipples hardening from the chill.

The barn was filled with the relaxing sounds of the heavy pattering of rain on the wooden roof above your heads. This was the side of Reiner you’d been waiting to see.

You knew he had it in him, underneath the crude jokes and the flirting attempts. He was a gentleman through and through. He just liked to hide it for whatever reasons you didn’t know.

His shirt was warm and his scent rolled off it into your nose.

You hadn’t realised how much you actually enjoyed his smell until now. It sent waves of comfort over you, like the smell alone was his big strong arms wrapping around your body, ensuring your safety and comfort.

Yes.

You’d decided.

You had been pondering on your feelings towards your classmate for a little while now and wanted to be sure. The torment of professionalism as well as distractions from training had been hanging over your head.

But there was just something about him that you were pulled to.

He jumped a little when you placed your soft hand gently on his forearm. The skin across the bridge of his nose and under his eyes instantly heated up, turning a hue of pink.

You were so close to him and he got what he always yearned for – for your skin to be touching his.

The next thing he knew you were reaching up and planting a tender kiss on his cheek.

The breath caught in his throat and that pinkness burned more brightly. Every muscle in his body tensed and his eyes enlarged slightly. But what really sent his chest thudding, was when you pulled the kiss away.

You kept your face close to his, now bearing the same pink hue. Your gorgeous eyes glistened, long lashes framing them beautifully. You smiled adorably, pulling at his shirt that was now draped across your shoulders.

“Thank you…”

You spoke softly, your hair a little messed up from the shirt, but it just made you look even more beautiful.

“For what…?” he replied in a haze.

“Being you…”

Those last words penetrated straight through his macho exterior and felt like they pierced into his heart, injecting some sort of warm fluid that quickly spread across his entire chest.

He didn’t even think.

It was like he went on auto pilot and his instincts just took over.

Placing the side of his index finger under your chin, he tilted your head up slightly and closed the gap between you, gently pressing his lips against yours.

His heart smashed against his solid barrel chest as you return the kiss, your lips softer than he had ever imagined them to be.

You run your hands up his shoulders and hung them, opening youe mouth a little wider as you kissed, giving him full permission to explore your mouth.

He did so without hesitation.

Sliding his tongue passed your sweet lips, he entwined it with yours.

It felt like fireworks and explosion were going off around him and he thought he could see stars behind his closed eyelids.

Having you kissing him and getting to be this close and intimate with you was the best feeling he’d ever had.

The adrenaline was richer and sweeter than any fight he’d been in or any training exercise.

It just felt perfect.

It began to get heated pretty quickly as your pace quickened slightly, deep exhales leaving his nose and his brow became furrowed and desperate.

You truly did make him feel weak.

He handles you gently. Although he knows you're strong, you also felt delicate, like his big lumbering body could break you at any moment.

Your fingers run through his hair and you press up against him, his arms wrapping around your form in a sweet embrace.

Although he thought he was the luckiest man alive to be able to kiss you, his body quickly began needing more.

He battled with it, keeping it under control and letting you now take the lead of the kiss.

You gently pull his pouty bottom lip with your teeth, making it that much harder for him to not throw you down and lift up that dress.

Instead, he settled for a pleased grunt, his brows creasing deeper as he became hungrier.

You slowly pulled away.

He pressed his forehead against yours, unable to hide the dumb grin that spread across his face as he caresses your hair with his right hand.

“What’s with that goofy grin?” you joked quietly; her sweet breath warm on his face.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He replied, his grin stretching further.

Smiling, you lower your head almost shyly at that titbit of information.

You then fix your eyes on his. “Really?”

“Of course…” he looked genuinely surprised. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Oh stop.” You laugh.

He took your hand and placed it on his bare chest over his rapid heartbeat. His honey eyes not removing their gaze from yours. “I swear.”

You didn’t know what to say.

“Well, you have awful taste.” Was what you settled for.

But having Reiner Braun, of whom didn’t really catch your eye at first, now you'd gotten to know him, was extremely attractive; his chest bare and holding you close like this set a burning desire deep within you.

One that you would have to keep under control.

…For now.

You gently place your hand on his jawline before replacing your mouth onto his.

He let out a small unintentional exhale from his nose, more than happy to slide his warm tongue back inside of your mouth.

Your hands gently caressed his broad shoulders, pace quickening and teeth grazing his lip.

You didn’t want to let things get too heated too quickly, but battling your urges seemed like an uphill battle. He’d grown on you a hell of a lot over the last year and a half and having him hold you like this felt amazing.

As Reiner kissed you, he pushed away the little voice inside of his head that was telling him this was all a big mistake and he had just complicated things massively.

He didn’t care.

His feelings for you had always surpassed the doubts that swirled around in his mind. And now, knowing you had some reciprocating feelings it was incomprehensible that he would now turn his back on you.

He grazed his hand lightly up your arm as he slowly and almost gracefully devoured the inside of your mouth. Your skin was the softest thing he’d ever touched like some fine silk from a faraway land. He almost felt like he was ruining you, just by having his unworthy hands upon your flesh.

You pull away once again and he sealed the kiss with another gently peck.

“This is crazy…” you sigh, taking a step back. “We’re training to be soldiers.”

“I know how you feel, believe me.” He muttered, a frown tugging at his mouth. “But I think life’s a little too short to be putting good things on the back burner.”

You pondered on that for a moment.

He began to feel desperate. Now that he had your affections within his grasp, he wasn’t about to let them slip through his fingers.

“I mean…” he took a step forward and took your hand into his large pair. “I know I joke around a lot but you…”

He paused for a moment, choosing his words.

“I didn’t kiss you with the intention of just having you then leaving. …I want us to be together. Properly. Hell, if we weren’t in Cadets, I would be asking you to marry me right now.”

That blushing hue returned to his face as he shyly looked away, not used to spilling out his feelings like this.

But the humiliation and discomfort would be worth it if he managed to gain you as his own.

Again… When did I get so weak?

You do a better job than he at hiding the grin that was threatening to spread across your face.

Instead, your face matched his reddening tone.

“Are you saying… You love me, Reiner Braun?” you spoke softly.

He pushed away every instinct that told him to run and hide.

“Yeah. As a matter of fact, I am.” He replied steadily.

Now it was your turn to ignore her instincts to run.

“R-Reiner. It’s not that I don’t care for you too, I do. But… Ah, it’s complicated.” You grimaced. “I don’t know when.. uh… I’ll be ready to…” your face was almost glowing at this point.

“Hey hey…” he soothed. “Its okay. I love you. I don’t care about waiting.” His face returned to the familiar serious soldier expression you were so used to seeing during training. “Even if you’d wanna wait until after marriage. I don’t mind.”

You squirm uncomfortably. “Its not that. Maybe we can talk about it… Another time?”

It perplexed him but he didn’t mind. “Of course.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“So…?” He melted back into that cheeky smirk.

The classic Reiner grin. Mischievous and cunning.

“You wanna give this a shot?”

You had noticed the rain had slowed to a stop, the clouds had moved on and the sun was shining once again.

You'd known Reiner now for almost two years. Spent every single day pretty much in his presence. You'd worked together, laughed together and well… Now this.

You reminded herself how strong that urge was to kiss him only minutes ago. Why you initiated closeness in the first place. Your mind fluttered through the pages of your recent memories and how he had been making you feel these days, and how your eyes have been lingering upon him a little longer than you'd have liked.

You let out a sigh before smirking back at him. “Sure. But don’t get comfortable now. Just because you have me doesn’t mean you can start slacking your charm.”

You playfully pushed his cheeks together with your index and thumb, resulting in a chuckle rumble from his broad chest.

“I swear it.” He grinned, kissing her.

“Come on. We’d better head back.” You smile, handing him back his shirt.

#reiner brainrot #reiner x you #reiner x reader #snk x reader #reiner braun #reiner fluff #aot headcanons #snk x y/n #snk

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Note

HAPPY 3K FOLLOWERS!!!! (Also congrats on making it to the halfway point of your thesis!)

For the bingo, could we pretty please get "Wanna bet?" with Dick Grayson?

thank you!!!! hope you like :)

want to join in the celebration? see the bingo sheet here

“I don’t know if you could tell but I just rolled my eyes,” you commented. A low chuckle sounded over the comms and then that warm, honey sweet voice followed.

“I felt a disturbance in the force,” Dick Grayson teased. “I take it you didn’t like that last joke?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, that was supposed to be a joke?” He snorted at your tone and you continued on, “I figured you plucked that straight from the shitty pun section of the Reader’s Digest.”

“I hate that you guessed that right.” A gleeful chuckle escaped you. Ever since Barbara told you that she needed to expand her operations and enlisted you to help, you never figured you would become Nightwing’s “person in the chair” but here you were, set up in your small Bludhaven apartment with various pieces of technology strewn around you and three monitors tracking crime reports in the city.

“Nightwing, we have an attempted robbery currently three blocks to your right on Roosevelt Avenue.”

“On it, Pythia.” The name came from being an oracle of Apollo at Delphi, something Barbara was very proud to come up with once you agreed to take over Nightwing’s operations so she could focus on Gotham.

Since starting this working relationship with Nightwing, you had become fast friends with the snarky vigilante and you appreciated his love and devotion to this city. You saw the risks he took and the people he fought. You saw it all from behind the screen of your computer and it broke your heart. You wished you could do more than give him information in an attempt to give him a leg up, but sometimes he came limping back to you with a black eye and that shit-eating grin and you were helpless but to apply an ice pack to his eye and bandage his cuts.

“Done and dusted,” he crowed. You sighed in relief and then let your lips curl up in amusement as you watched his fight from a security camera you hacked into.

“That was some fancy footwork there, ‘Wing. You trying to impress someone?”

“Nah,” he hummed over the line. “I’ve got my hands full already.”

You clasped your hands together and rested your chin on your knuckles, eyes peering at the map as you waited for a new dot to appear to dispatch him. “Hmm? I thought a charming man like you would never let himself be tied down.”

“I’m not usually the one being tied down,” he retorted. You stifled your laugh and played with the small silver band that rested on your ring finger.

“Oh, really? That’s salacious. I should tell the tabloids. Local vigilante spends his free time tying helpless folks up. Whatever shall we do?”

“Well, see, now I’m going to have to make sure you don’t spill my secrets.”

“You’ll never be able to silence me.”

“Wanna bet?” The rough, throaty tone that he spoke in made your body tingle and warmth flushed through your veins. You cleared your throat and studied the map once more. It was a slow, quiet night for once. Even though it was only two in the morning, he could afford to take off early.

“Come home and show me,” you murmured.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Tag List:

@someoneimsure @perpetual-fangirl900 @visagebrise @cursedandromedablack @alexxavicry @the-wayward-daughter @raging-trash-of-mind @bunny-kawa @khaylin27

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #dick grayson #honey's 3k celebration

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daisies-daydreams · 10 months

Text

The First Step - Chapter 2 (Simon Riley x F!Reader)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader Category: Fluff & Angst Warnings: Swearing, Some Sexual References (No Smut), Mentions of Drinking/Trauma, Nightmares Word Count: 2.4k+

A/N: As requested by several people, I wrote a second chapter for The First Step! Not much happens much in this chapter, just some set-up for what’s going to happen next. 😉 Stay tuned and thank you for reading!

The First Step (Ch. 1)

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

“Alright. Everything seems to be settled for now. You’re both dismissed,” Price said with a nod. The meeting after the incident in your office was a long process, though Price's usual gruff voice was more soft when he asked ran through the standard questions with you. You glanced over at Ghost as both of you rose from your seats at the same time. He looked at Price, who was giving him a knowing grin. Ghost's cheeks burned as he cleared his throat. He motioned his hand out as he opened the office door.

“After you,” he stated. You grinned.

“Thank you, Gho-Simon,” you quickly corrected yourself. You smiled at him as you stepped through the threshold. Ghost closed the door behind him, relieved that the meeting was over.

“I see you, MacTavish!” your voice suddenly boomed as you strode down the hallway. Ghost’s head snapped up as he watched you poke your finger at the Scotsman’s chest, his dog tags jingling at the rough contact. Soap raised his thick brows.

“Ah dinnae ken what you’re talkin’ about,” Soap said with a slight smirk. You scoffed.

“You know damn well that I won that drinking game last week, Soap!" you accused. Soap’s eyes lingered over to Ghost, his bright, baby blues pleading with him to do something. Ghost just stood behind you, his arms crossed as he watched with a hidden, amused expression. You turned, your eyes lighting up when you saw him behind you.

“Ghost! You were there that night. Tell this rapscallion that he owes me twenty-five dollars,” you said as you turned back around and eyed the man across from you. Soap rolled his eyes.

“Rapscallion? What are you, ninety?” Soap gawked. You scowled at him. “Listen, we both know that I had just ‘this’ much more liquor than you. So if anything, you owe me twenty-five dollars,” he claimed as he nearly pinched his fingers together. Both of you looked over at Ghost. He sighed and shook his head.

“I’ll pay you both twenty-five dollars if you can be at peace for at least five minutes,” Ghost rumbled. Your jaw dropped as Soap snorted.

“I don’t think that’s possible with this lass,” Soap chuckled as he raised his hand to pat your back. Your eyes widened as you quickly covered your arms above your head. Soap’s cheeky grin fell as he studied you. Ghost’s throat tightened as you nervously laughed.

“Sorry. I’m just kind of…jumpy today,” you muttered as you straightened yourself. Soap’s face remained blank as he looked over at Ghost. The lieutenant stepped over to him.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” he whispered. Soap looked back over at you and nodded.

“Right,” he replied. Ghost grunted before staring down at his watch.

“Nearly dinner time,” he stated. You nodded. He noticed your eyes lingering on him before you looked down at your feet. Soap shifted his gaze between the two of you before a wry grin made its way on his face.

“Oh no,” Ghost thought.

“You know, there’s that new place that opened up just a few minutes from base,” he suggested while nudging Ghost’s arm. Ghost glared at him through his mask as Soap took a careful step back. Your eyes lit up.

“Oh! That Italian restaurant? I’ve been wanting to eat there since they announced it,” you beamed. Ghost’s jaw clicked when Soap raised his brows.

“Really? Me too! We should all go check it out tonight,” he said. Your face fell.

“I-I don’t have a ride. He’s…not available,” you said, your voice strained and tears welling in your eyes. Ghost’s nostrils flared. Just the thought of that bastard made him want to punch his fist through a brick wall. Soap almost raised his hand again, yet lowered it.

“That’s alright. One of us could drive you,” his eyes flicked over to Ghost. Ghost sighed, wanting to run his hands down his face. Your lips tilted into an unsure expression.

“I don’t know. I’m actually feeling pretty tired,” you said. Soap shrugged.

“That’s alright, doc. Some other time then,” he smiled softly. You nodded and slowly turned to Ghost. He met your gaze, his cheeks still burning and throat tight.

“Could you drive me home?” you asked.

“Sure,” he replied with a shrug. Soap patted him on his back.

“That’s good-cause my car’s in the shop!” he chuckled. You laughed while Ghost groaned quietly. “See you two later!” Soap called as he turned on his heel.

“You still owe her twenty-five dollars,” Ghost raised his voice slightly. Your shoulders bounced as you watched Soap’s brows raise and jaw drop.

“WHAT?!” the Scotsman bellowed. You laughed. Ghost felt his heart soften at the sound of your giggling, Soap’s ranting fading out. He leaned over to you.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” he whispered. You nodded, then gasped when he placed a hand on your lower back. He flinched it away. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s alright,” you sighed.

“-and in other words, you can-“ Ghost scowled at Soap. Even though the mask, the Scotsman could see his patience wearing thin. His mouth snapped shut as he waved his hand.

“Ah, whatever. I’ll get the money to you by tomorrow night,” Soap replied. You grinned.

“I’ll hold you to it, MacTavish,” you grinned while pointing your finger at him. He chuckled and rolled his eyes. Soap whistled as he made his way down the hall. You turned back to Ghost while he pulled his car keys out of his pocket. You parted your lips.

“Simon,” you said. He looked down at you, his dark eyes softening as you came close to him.

“Yes, (Y/N)?” he asked, his voice somewhat lower than he intended. You kept your gaze down before you closed your mouth.

“I-Thank you. For today,” you sighed before taking a step back. His heart cracked slightly.

“Of course. You-“ he quickly shut his mouth. You tilted your head up.

“I’m what, Simon?” you asked. Ghost’s heart began to race in his chest as he fumbled with his keys. A lump formed in his throat.

“You matter so much to me”...is what he wanted to say. He gripped his keys, the words stuck on his tongue as his heart tightened into a knot. Ghost sighed.

“You…should definitely go see the psychologist on base. If you think it would help,” he strained. Your face fell and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you sighed. Ghost picked at his keys.

“C’mon, love. Let’s get you home,” he said. You gave him a small smile and followed him down the hall.

The walk there was rather quiet, save for a few comments here and there. Your hands brushed over one another as you rounded a corner. Ghost’s breath hitched, the simple touch sending a spark through him. You seemed to react just as viscerally, your eyes widening ever so slightly. Ghost’s hands twitched as the two of you continued through the exit doors.

The sun was low in the sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance as you walked to his black Jeep. He watched you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The last glimpse of sunlight glowing across your face as you looked up at him with a gentle smile. Ghost hummed as he pulled out of the parking spot.

"Alright, where am I taking you, doc?" he asked. You rubbed your hands over your upper arms.

"It's straight out the gate for about ten minutes, then you'll turn right at a stoplight down Sanderson Street. There should be a row of townhouses where you'll take a left," you explained.

"Sounds easy enough," Ghost said. An awkward silence lingered between the two of you. You eyed the car radio.

"Mind if I turn something on?" you asked.

"Be my guest," Ghost replied. You grinned and turned on the radio. A classic rock sound blasted through the vehicle, making you jump before turning the volume knob down. You blinked and laughed.

"Sorry about that," Ghost chuckled. You shrugged.

"It's alright. I like to listen to loud music, too," you said. Ghost quirked a brow.

"Yeah? What kind?" he asked. You hummed to yourself.

"It's kind of hard to just pick one genre. I like all sorts of music, you know?" you smiled. Ghost nodded, his hands drumming on the wheel.

"I'm more of a classic rock kind of bloke," he said.

"Different strokes for different folks," you shrugged. Ghost cracked a small smile as you swayed your head along to the sound of a guitar.

"You like Ozzie?” he asked. You hummed again.

"Kind of. I'm more of a Mercury fan," you said. Ghost nodded, though apparently even his mask couldn’t hide his jubilation.

"What?" you chuckled. Ghost glanced back to the road.

"Nothin'; I'm just a fan of his, too," he said. Ghost slowed the car down, nodding at the guard before passing through the gate. He shifted gears and sped forward.

"Okay, then. What’s your favorite song by Queen?" you asked. Ghost scratched his chin quickly before resting it back in the stick.

"Anything but Bicycle," he mumbled. You laughed.

"Well, now I know what your least favorite song is," you chuckled. Ghost glanced over at you again, your bright smiling warming his heart. You patted your hands on your thighs as the song faded out. Another one came on, prompting you to wiggle a little in your seat as you sang along. Ghost didn't even notice the grin that was pulled ear to ear across his face.

"I kind of regret not going to that restaurant now," you suddenly pouted, ceasing your dance. Ghost pulled up to a stoplight and glanced over.

"Why's that?" he asked. You sighed, your hands folding over your lap.

"I don't know. Just something to keep me distracted from..." your eyes became glossy as you pressed your lips together. Ghost's hand gripped the stick as he felt another bolt of anger strike through him.

"Hey-it'll be okay," he tried to assure you. You nodded, though you avoided his gaze, opting to stare at the rolling clouds outside the window. Ghost sighed as he tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “We could still go, if you wanted," he muttered. Your head spun around as blush filled your cheeks. You didn't look angry perse-just shocked. Ghost cleared his throat. "Sorry, if you're uncomfortable-"

"What about Friday?" you asked. Ghost blinked, his heart starting to thrum against his sternum.

"Friday?" he repeated. You nodded, the tears fading from your eyes.

"I-If you're busy though..." your voice trailed off as you wrung your hands together. Ghost shook his head.

"Friday's good with me. Besides, Soap will be there to keep us plenty distracted, yeah?" he replied. Your shoulders sank slightly as his response.

"Y-Yeah," you sighed as you leaned back in your seat. Green light spilled over his Jeep, prompting the lieutenant to shift gears again. The rest of the ride was a quiet one, the music humming lowly as a few raindrops began to bounce against the roof of Ghost's vehicle. Another crack of thunder erupted across the landscape.

“Just turn right up here,” you said as you pointed towards a collection of townhouses. Ghost nodded, biting the inside of his cheek as he turned his steering wheel. Something strange struck through his chest when he pulled up to your place. Several plants were sprinkled across your front lawn, a small table and two chairs resting on the small, concrete patio. Wind chimes danced in the breeze as you opened your car door. You paused when you went to unbuckle your seatbelt.

“(Y/N)? You alright?” Ghost asked. Your hands were clutching onto the seat belt as you licked your lips.

“I-I’m fine, just…” your voice trailed off as your fingers played with the buckle. Ghost tilted his head. You sighed and shut the door.

“Love?” Ghost said calmly. You bit your bottom lip.

“Simon,” you said as you turned to him.

“Yes?” he asked. You swallowed thickly as you shifted in your seat.

“Could you…maybe come inside?” you asked sheepishly. Ghost felt his heart flip. Time stood still for an eternity before he finally nodded.

+++

Another buzzer rang on the television, a woman leaping up in the air as she waved her arms around wildly. Ghost never quite understood how people could get that excited over something. You yawned, your head falling onto a nearby pillow.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Ghost suggested. You shook your head.

"No-I still want to stay up for a little bit longer," you sighed, your half-lidded eyes glued to the screen. Ghost hummed and nodded. It's been a few hours since you invited him inside. Usually for him, this meant the start of a long, heated round of sex...only for him to slip out the door in the middle of the night. But there was something about you and him; quietly sitting and watching gameshows on your couch that just felt right. Your eyelids fluttered a few times before your head slumped onto his broad shoulder.

Ghost tensed and gazed down at you as you snuggled into his side. He couldn’t help but feel heat rising to his ears as your warm body was pressed flush against his. The lieutenant eventually relaxed as he felt your weight on him, resting across his side like a blanket. He carefully brushed some hair out of your face, the gameshow long forgotten. You began to mumble in your sleep as your brows furrowed.

“Simon,” you mewled. Ghost’s hand twitched. He blushed furiously as his mouth grew dry.

You were dreaming about him?

You sighed before nuzzling your face into his chest. His throat constricted as your lips caressed his collar bone.

“Fuckin' hell,” he thought. He tried to distract himself from the blood rushing to his cock by looking out your front window. The storm had calmed by now, only a few low rumbles of thunder coming every now and then. Something suddenly struck Ghost when he saw his Jeep parked next to your smaller car in your driveway. His mind began to wander: what would it be like to park next to your car every day? What if you shared a car? A house? A bed?

Ghost’s face flushed as he shook his head.

“No-just stop,” he told himself as he continued to run his digits through your hair. That kind of life could never happen for someone like him. What has he ever done to deserve a domestic life like that? He's saved lives, sure, but he's also taken them. He closed his eyes as he tried to push the peaceful fantasy deep down, hoping it would just suffocate inside of him. Ghost deserved a life of detachment-not whatever his heart was yearning for at the moment.

You suddenly whimpered and stirred in your sleep. Ghost's eyes shot open as you started to cry out.

“No! Please! Stop it, please!“ you sobbed, your body shaking as your face twisted in pure horror. Ghost's heart sank into his stomach as he watched the nightmare ravage you. He cautiously wrapped his arms around you, his lips close to your ear.

“It’s okay, love. You’re okay now,” he murmured softly. Your face began to relax as he stroked his hands over your arms. “You're safe,” Ghost cooed. You sighed as your breathing began to steady. Ghost nearly kissed the shell of your ear as you rested the side of your head against his shoulder. He patted your arms a few times before yawning. His own eyelids began to grow heavy, the warmth from your body lulling him closer to a deep sleep.

"It wouldn't hurt to rest for a few minutes," he thought. Ghost shut his eyes and drifted off into a quiet slumber.

+++

Ghost was woken up by a woman gasping. His eyelids fluttered open as he met your gaze. You were resting right on top of him, your chest pressed against his. His hands were panted on your lower back, his mask pulled up just enough to reveal his slightly scruffy face. Your cheeks were bright red as you slipped away from him.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered. He grunted as he felt your warmth dissipated from beneath his palms.

“It’s alright,” he yawned. Ghost looked over at the clock in the kitchen.

7:12 AM

The lieutenant was tempted to just flop back down on the couch and fall asleep. He rubbed the crust from his eyes before stretching. You stood in front of him, feet planted to the floor as you avoided looking at him.

"I should be the one to apologize, love. Didn't mean to crash at your place," he said as he pulled his balaclava back over his lower face.

"Oh, you're fine," you waved. Both of you remained in another bout of awkward silence. Your head perked up when you heard your phone alarm screeching. You cursed as you scrambled to find it. Ghost looked down, pulling it from a crack in the center cushion. You smiled sheepishly as you took it from him and turned it off.

"No rest for the weary," you sighed as you rubbed your eyes.

"Or the wicked," Ghost added. You chuckled softly, your hands falling to your sides.

"There's some cereal in the cabinet and milk in the fridge if you'd like some. Sorry, I haven't had the chance to go shopping this week," you admitted. Ghost's throat tightened. You tilted your head. "You okay?" you asked. He nodded as he rose to his feet.

"Yeah-just not used to-" he cut himself off. He rubbed the back of his neck while gazing down at his black socks. You offered him another smile before nodding slowly.

"I have to get ready for work. You can...you can stay, if you want. Or go-it's totally up to you," you offered as pink dusted your cheeks. Ghost lowered his hand.

"Thanks, love,” he replied. You nodded before slipping towards what Ghost assumed to be your room. He sighed and clenched his jaw.

Why can't things be easy? Why can't he spin you around and just kiss you on your sweet lips? That way, pulling his feelings out of his chest would be more like a dance and less like getting his teeth removed. He looked around your living room and kitchen. The place was comfortably quiet, though he felt himself yearning to check on you. He gazed down the hall, hoping that you'd pop back out. A few minutes passed before Ghost sighed. He muttered under his breath as he pulled his boots back over his large feet.

His chest felt a little more fragile and empty as he glanced back into your apartment one last time before heading out the door.

Ghost replayed the scene of you sleeping on top of him over and over again as he drove back to the base. The sun peeked over the horizon, shrouding the rolling hills in an soft ochre. He turned up the radio as he pulled his Jeep up to the stoplight. His right hand slipped into his pocket for a cigarette. Ghost paused when he felt a piece of crumpled paper brush against his fingertips. He pulled the parchment out and unfolded it.

His eyes widened as he read the number listed on the paper…your name clearly scribbled underneath it.

___

Thank you for reading! ❤️

@notthatfanfictionwriter @mrswhitethornbelikov

#call of duty #cod #call of duty modern warfare 2 #reader insert #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod angst #cod fluff #task force 141 #call of duty fanfic #mw2 x reader #cod modern warfare

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Dark Necessities [Part 1]

Jake Lockley X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals

Masterlist • ao3 • want to be tagged?

Summary: “I can’t do this anymore Jake... I can’t…” ‘Kill any more people’ is what you want to say, what you should say. But he’d know you were lying. “I can’t do this so frequently.”

Before he left Egypt, Jake destroyed all the remaining ushabti’s – setting all the previously imprisoned god’s free. That was the main reason he felt so responsible for what happened to you.

A/N: Look, I'm so sorry, I have been writing this for ages and I just have to post it. (Part 2 will feature Steven and Marc.) I've just gone and made up my own lore here with some of the gods.

Warnings: hahaha, oh no, typos, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, mentions of murder, mentions of eating people, reader can't speak Spanish, please let me know if I have missed a warning

Word Count: 5230

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @jake-g-lockley @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @welcometostayingawake @mbakubabe @solobagginses

( @romanarose & @melodygatesauthor I've tagged you both too, because I thought you might like, I hope you don't mind!)

__________________________________________

You hit the door with the side of your fist, four hard knocks.

There was still blood under your fingernails, a few faded out red streaks along your hands where the puddle water hadn’t been enough to wash it away.

You knew he was in. Could feel it. That pull beneath your breastbone, that sense that another avatar was near.

The buzz of hunger played at the back of your mind, drawn out and dull. It was a constant thing, like a live wire of electricity. At least it was quieter for now.

There was movement on the opposite side of the door, a pause before a lock clicked and opened.

Jake stared at you for a moment before you spoke, his expression betraying nothing.

“I need to speak with your god.” You said, your voice was low, gravely. The taste of iron coated your tongue.

He opened the door a fraction wider and motioned you inside.

You stepped in as he quickly shut and locked it behind you.

It wasn’t exactly the place you had pictured for him. Open plan, littered with books, it seemed more like the home of a scholar. Though, it wasn’t as if you knew much about Jake’s personal life. In fact you knew nothing outside of his role as the fist of Khonshu.

The light of the fish tank caught your attention and you walked towards it slowly, like a predator trying to show they were no danger. Two goldfish swam in the water. It was peaceful to look at them, easy to ignore the sensation of Jake watching your every movement.

“What are you doing here?” His tone was short, gruff, bordering on anger. You didn’t care.

“I already told you I need to speak with your god.” You spoke blankly, doing your best to suck out any emotion and failing.

“That’s not what I mean.” He walked closer to you, his reflection growing in the glass of the tank as you continued to stare at the fish.

You were a distraction that thundered too hard in the back of his mind. “You didn’t message first. Anyone could be here.”

His turn of phrase caught you off guard a little, but you let it slide. “You’re the one that gave me your address.”

He breathed out through his nose; a short sound you knew would be accompanied by him clenching his jaw, tightening his hands into fists before relaxing.

“I told you, you need to message me. You don’t know where I could be-”

“I could feel you here.”

Jake paused, about to press further when something caught his eye. He had been too frustrated at first to properly look at you, to pay his usual attention to every small detail. There was a sheen of sweat coating you skin, beads of it collected at the hollow of your throat. The urge to reach out, to touch you, to run his tongue along your jaw was too strong.

He clenched his teeth together and pushed the thought away. “There’s blood on your neck.”

You ran your hand over your skin as you turned to face him. Tiredness ate into your bones, it made them weak, like they could crumble at any moment.

“I need to speak to him, Jake.”

“You can’t-”

“Jake-”

“Tomorrow. He won’t be here until tomorrow.”

You frowned. “I thought he was always with you?”

He shrugged, preferring to look at your ear instead of your searching eyes. The way you gazed up at him, he wouldn’t- he couldn’t- he would get lost. “We have a different set of rules.”

“Can’t you summon him?”

“Our deal allows us both to have time away from each other, except for dire situations.” Not a complete truth, not a complete lie.

You nod, close your eyes for a moment and swallow down a breath, missing the way Jake watches your lips.

“It happened again?”

“... Yes.”

“Do you want a drink?”

“No.”

He gives you a short nod, “take a seat,” and motions to the sofa.

You slump down while Jake makes himself a coffee. The cushions are soft and welcoming, it would be so easy to close your eyes. To give yourself over to rest. Even if it was only for a little while.

Jake sits opposite you and you try to sit up straighter.

“What did you do with the body?”

You stare blankly at him; his words don’t really register for a moment. “There wasn’t any left.”

He nods again. Expression uninterested and calm. But you could tell the difference, the slightly bob of his throat, the smallest spike of his heartbeat. Fear, you think, disgust. And it makes you sick.

“I can’t do this anymore Jake... I can’t…” ‘Kill any more people’ is what you want to say, what you should say. But he’d know you were lying. “I can’t do this so frequently.”

A small sad smile pulls his lip upwards ever so slightly. If you had been the avatar for anyone else he would have just told you to ‘give it up’, relinquish your role.

But Set had never been one to share those rules.

It had been Jake who had released him, released all the bound gods under Khonshus direction. It had been an easy thing with most of the other free gods searching for avatars to replace the ones that Harrow had butchered.

He felt responsible for you. He was responsible for you.

“Set still doesn’t talk to you?”

You shook your head. “No matter what I try.”

“Before tonight... when was the last time you… ate?”

“Yesterday.”

“And before that?”

“Three days ago.”

There’s a bleakness to your tone that hurts, a resignation that’s nearly taken over.

“You can speak with Khonshu when it’s light,” he stood quickly, with that panther like grace you had come to admire. He left his coffee, untouched, on the floor by his chair and strode behind you, coming back a moment later holding spare clothes and a towel. “Go clean yourself up properly.”

His hands linger on yours as he passes them over, but he doesn’t meet your gaze. You don’t argue.

He directs you towards the bathroom and you shower quickly, the water turns a pale pink before it runs clear.

You spend a little too long just holding on to the clothes he gave you. Dark, clean, soft material. Pyjamas. He didn’t seem the sort to wear- the image of Jake in bed, naked, barely covered by a thin sheet sprang into your mind.

You screwed up your eyes as your cheeks burned, these weren’t the thoughts to be having right now.

The pyjamas smelt undeniably of him. The scent heavy, but comforting as you put them on, like you were surrounded in his presence.

The condensation on the mirror hid your face. A small mercy. You didn’t want to see yourself. See how you had changed under Set’s influence.

It didn’t used to be so bad, so strong.

You first met the god at night, still reeling over your sister’s death. He didn’t so much as speak but implant thoughts, sensations, feeding your rage and thirst for revenge. I’ll show you who cut her, who ripped her from this world. I’ll make you strong. I’ll help you devour them. Do. We. Have. A. Deal?

It had been two men that had taken her life. You had found them easily with Set’s eyes and ripped them apart easily with his hands. Their blood and flesh had slid down your throat so sweetly, sating that hunger in your soul. His hunger.

You hadn’t needed to feed again for six months. The urge boiling up and spilling over.

He preferred those who had taken lives, they tasted better, smelled sweeter. Your instincts pulled you closer to them, Set’s instincts, moving you like a puppet as the form overtook you, as you gave into the urge to feed.

Six months became three, then one, then less and less and less until the feeling never left. Only dulled briefly after the latest kill.

Jake was speaking on the phone as you exited the bathroom, quick sentences in Spanish.

You sat back on the sofa, sinking down. Your wet hair cooled your feverish skin. You were always hot now, burning a few degrees higher than normal. Save when you were starving, if you were trying to resist Set’s need to eat. Then everything would cool, your skin would numb and vision would dull to a point.

Jake’s voice was soothing, rhythmical, despite the fact that you couldn’t understand a word he was saying. It was nice to be around someone else, someone who knew what was going on.

The sound of Jake’s footsteps made you jolt awake. The spiking sensation of falling. You didn’t remember when you drifted off to sleep.

He held out a hand, like someone who was trying to calm a wild animal. But his eyes were kind. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“You must be tired.”

You almost laugh, “yeah,” and look down at your hands, the traces of blood long gone. You weren’t sure if you could deal with the intensity of his gaze. The scrutiny.

“You can stay here tonight,” he paused, meaning to say something else but only added, “I’m not going to turf you out.”

“I,” stupid emotion overcame you, tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. “Thank you.” Viscously, like you were trying to scrub them clean, you rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hand.

Jake paused, clenching and unclenching his jaw before he finally sat down next to you. A careful and controlled movement.

“I’ve just been speaking to a contact.” He waits for you to look back at him, to make sure you hear the full weight of his words. “We’ll figure something out. Even if Khonshu can’t help. I’m not going to abandon you. You have my word.”

You nod again, it seemed easier than speaking.

He didn’t have the skills for this. This wasn’t what he was meant to deal with. He wasn’t built for kind words and reassuring glances. But that’s all he wanted to do. To kiss away those tears that lingered in the corner of your eyes, to make you fall apart in ecstasy instead of despair.

“Thank you,” you whispered again, not knowing what else to say.

He’s so close.

Your gaze flits between the day-old stubble on the sharp line of his jaw, the way in which he bites ever so slightly on his plump bottom lip.

It’s too much. It’s all too much. Like he is waiting for you to say your next line, play your next move, when you have nothing. Lost for thoughts other than him, like his presence is the only air in the room, overwhelming and all encompassing.

The dull buzz of hunger throbs in the base of your skull, the electricity of it sparking out across your spine like a whip.

Jake touches your hand, the barest grace of his cool fingers along your feverish skin. The softest thing that breaks a crack into your chest.

He opens his mouth, teeth realising his lip, and begins to say your name. The first syllable forming in such a hushed and reverent tone, like the sweetest music – beautiful and you can’t bear it.

You can’t let him say it, not like that, not like this, not – you lean closer in a rush, shutting him up in the only way you can think of and press your lips to his, swallowing down the sound of your name.

He stills, surprised, as a hush falls over the room.

That snap of hunger bites in deeper and you come back to yourself. Embarrassment and guilt flood your mind and you instinctively pull back, apologises already beginning to form on your tongue.

But you don’t get far. Jake’s hand slides against your cheek, his fingers sinking into your hair and curling around the nap of your neck, gently stopping you from pulling away.

His kisses are so soft it’s almost painful, careful and languid as if you are some fragile thing that could break instead of the monster you are.

His tongue ghosts over your bottom lip just before he drinks down a particularly needy moan that escapes your lips. A sound that would in any other circumstances bring embarrassment, but you are too far gone to care. Already drunk and burning from the taste of him.

You tangle one hand in his hair, so soft, the other in his shirt, trying to bring him closer and deepen the kiss, accepting his tongue as he slips it past your lips.

He licks into your mouth and you must taste like blood, like death. But he only groans in pleasure when your tongue strokes his, moans when you scrap your nails along his scalp. He’s water hitting the desert sand, being drunk down greedily into its depths.

You let him push you back down against the settee, let him hook his hand behind your knee and move your legs apart so that he can settle in-between them.

He grinds down against you, giving you both the friction you crave.

“Fuck.” He hisses, the sound coming out needy and desperate as he breaks the kiss.

You hunger for the taste of him, the need of him is so sharp it is at the point of pain and while Jake is momentarily distracted you lick a stripe up his neck to his jaw.

He lets out a beautiful sound and you kiss your way back down the path you just made as he bucks into you. His fingers tighten and a shudder of a hiss escapes his lips when you pass over his pulse point.

You pause briefly to glance at his face, his eyes closed and brow furrowed so wonderfully. The light from the lamps gives him a halo, a soft glow, making him look like some angelic work of art.

As his eyes begin to open you latch back onto his neck, sucking at that sweet spot to drag more of those wonderful sounds from him. Music you could never grow tired of.

Languidly, you scrape the edges of your teeth over his skin, soothing it quickly afterwards with your tongue, and repeat as a dark bruise begins to form. The purple of it spreads like ink in water.

He bucks his hips unthinkingly, his length rubbing deliciously against your clit and your growl against him, once again scratching your nails along his scalp.

Jake shivers, letting out a shaky string of Spanish under his breath that sends a spike of heat straight to your core.

Your thighs clench around his waist instinctively, the hunger is there, Set’s hunger. You can feel it in the back of your head, running along your spine. You want Jake. You need him. You are going to devour him.

But not in the way you have feasted on so many others, you want his moans, his sighs, only his pleasure.

You kiss his neck again, nipping at the flesh just under his jaw as he grinds against you, already achingly hard. His hand is holding your hip so tightly, his knuckles white, the grip so strong it would surely leave bruises on any other lover.

Then suddenly Jake pulls away, sitting up quickly onto his knees. You let him go, resisting the urge to cling onto him, to keep his chest against yours.

This is it. Spell broken.

But his eyes don’t leave yours, his lips are slightly swollen, dusted a darker shade of pink from your bites and kisses. He’s breathing heavily, his pupils blown wide, and if he notices the faint sheen of red in your eyes, Set’s sheen, he doesn’t say anything.

“Can I,” he licks his plump bottom lip that is already shiny from your spit, biting it momentarily between his teeth.

You’d never known Jake to be hesitant with his words, or actions for that matter. But you can see it now. The smallest twitch of a tendon in his neck, an uncertain furrow to his brow. You wait for him to continue.

“Can I take you to bed?” He speaks quietly; sure of his words but uncertain of your reaction. Trepidation on his tongue.

You can’t stop the grin that spreads itself across your face, the first true smile you have given in what feels like an age.

You rush to sit up, kissing him quickly before whispering in his ear, “you can take me to bed Jake Lockley.”

There is the smallest tremor, a shiver that runs through him at your words, and you take particular pleasure in that.

He places butterfly kisses against your neck, your shoulder, breathing in deeply as he inhales your scent mixed with the smell of his shower gel. His fingers skim the bottom edge of your- his top, lightly tracing the line of exposed skin. The touch is teasing, never quite daring to dip under the material and something inside you snaps.

You grab hold of his shirt, unbuttoning it just enough so that you can pull the offending thing over his head without ripping it into pieces.

You’re a little rough, but Jake doesn’t seem to mind as you run your hands along his chest. Repositioning yourself on top of him, your knees caging in his thighs.

He wines at the loss of your lips, reaching up to pull your mouth back to his and sighing against you when he finally gets his wish.

You try to fight the giddiness, the joy that threatens to boil over and leave you lightheaded. It doesn’t seem right after so many months of pain and self hatred. After what you’ve done. But try as you might, you just can’t help yourself and quickly decide to bask in his light for as long as he wants to give it.

He bucks up against you as you grind down on him, his hand warm on the small of your back as he pushes you further, encouraging you to roll your hips.

“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth as you drag your cunt over a particularly sensitive spot. You nip at his lips and do it again, watching him intently as he screws his face up in pleasure. Oh god, you could do this all night.

“You like that?” You tease, rubbing yourself over him again.

He nods furiously, eyes closed, mouth tightly shut, like he doesn’t trust his own voice.

“Good.” You whisper as you drag your clit back down the clothed length of him, the sensation sending sparks along your spine. You can feel your wetness soaking into your borrowing pyjama bottoms.

Jake lets out a particularly needy groan and grabs a hold of the back of your head to press his lips to yours. Greedily, you force your tongue into his mouth and he accepts it without hesitation, moaning happily.

His free hand snakes up under your top to cup your bare left breast, pinching and rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers.

It’s your turn to hiss out a muffled, “fuck.”

You could cum like this, you realise. The way he’s touching you, the way you’re moving against him, the taste of him and those sounds he’s making, it’s all too much, it’s all too good.

Jake pulls at your top, bunching up the fabric in his hands and you break away from him quickly to let him pull the offending thing over your head. He throws it somewhere behind the settee as you quickly go back to rocking against him and sucking bruises into his neck.

“Can I- mierda-” he cuts himself off with a low groan as he thrusts up against you. “Please...”

You slow, but don’t completely stop your hips and pull away from him slightly to give him room to speak.

He looks wrecked, his hair a mess from your constant pulling, his skin flushed. He gazes up at you with hazy eyes and his voice is thick when he finally can form a coherent thought. “Can I taste you?”

His words send heat straight to your core. The cool air of the flat on your feverish skin is the only thing stopping you from combusting into flames. You swallow and nod quickly, this time not trusting your own voice.

You shuffle back a little to pull off your pyjama bottoms and Jake moves with you, sitting up slightly as if he can’t bear more than a few seconds without your touch. He pulls impatiently on the left leg when it gets caught around your ankle, finally freeing you, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

Jake grins up at you, peppering light kisses to your chest before wrapping his arms firmly around your hips and laying back down, pulling you with him.

“Shit!” The sudden movement surprises you, but you’re laughing again as you grab hold of the settee to steady yourself and not to fall completely on top of him.

He bites the skin below your belly button before kissing it and wiggles himself down so that his neck is on the armrest. His pyjama bottoms are still caught around your right leg.

Jake doesn’t give you a moment to enjoy the view before he brushes his thumb against your clit, running it up and down through your soaking folds. You bite back a sharp moan. You’re so wet you could probably take all of him right then and there without a problem.

He lets out a groan and a deep rumble of Spanish before teasing your entrance with his fore and middle fingers. Not quite dipping in, but just enough to coat them with your slick before he shoves them into his mouth and moans loudly, his eyes screwed up as his tongue works to taste every last trace of you.

You clench around nothing, barely having a moment to commit the scene before you to memory before he’s pulling you up and against his face in one swift motion.

His mouth feels like heaven as he licks up through your folds and swirls around your clit. The movements soft and languid, like the first kisses he gave you.

Instinctively you buck your hips, trying to grid down on his mouth and chase that toe curling sensation, but his arms hold you firm, barely letting you move and only allowing the gentlest rock.

“Jake,” you wine and your voice doesn’t sound like your own, too desperate and ruined.

He just hums as he continues to softly lap at you, kitten licks that are driving you insane.

You run your hand through his hair, lightly pulling on his curls to try to ground yourself but that just causes a rumble of a groan to reverberate through his chest and lips, to vibrate against you.

“Oh shit, Jake,” it’s too much, it’s all too much and not enough. You’re water breaking at a cliff's edge.

Suddenly he’s pulling you closer, his hands squeezing your thighs. No longer teasing as he presses your pussy fully against his face, moving you up and down to grind harshly against his mouth until your thoughts catch up with his intentions and you remember how to move.

You ride his face desperately, biting the inside of your mouth to retain some resemblance of control. All thoughts are blank from your mind, the only focus is the sensation of Jake’s mouth against you, the creaking sounds of the settee.

You’re so close. And Jake feels it, the tightening of your thighs and abdominal muscles. He scrapes his teeth against your clit, so similar to how you marked his neck before, then sucks on it hard and you are lost.

You cum violently against his face, pulling fiercely on his hair – a sensation that cracks out like whip to his neglected cock and he moans blissfully against you. You buck twice before Jake’s arms take over in an effort to keep you upright.

He licks into you, desperate to get every last drop of your release, but too soon for his liking you are calling his name and moving back from him. He shifts so that you can sit back a little, his hands resting on your waist.

You breathe heavily.

“You okay?” He asks with a smile, the lower half of his face shining in the lamplight.

You nod. “Just give me a minute.”

“That good?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and you laugh, swatting his arm.

“I’ll murder you.”

“I’ll die happy.” The soft look in his eyes catches you off guard, that crack in your heart widens. You can’t deal with that right now.

Hurriedly you lean down to kiss him but stop just before your lips meet his. He frowns up at you for a second before you rub your hand over his mouth and chin, wiping away your release.

“Hey!” He chuckles, trying to grab hold of your hand to stop you. “That’s mine.”

You seize his wrist before he can stop you, leaning your weight against his other arm at the same time.

“Is it?” You pull a face at him, struggling to stay serious and bumping your nose against his.

“Yes,” he breathes, “I earned it.” He lifts his head up quickly to kiss you before you can pull away, not that you would have even if you could.

He sighs into the kiss, his eyes fluttering closed before yours. It’s then that you realise he seems to be happiest when part of him is connected to you.

You rock back against him again, the material rub of his jeans reminding you that he is still partially clothed. You’d have to remedy that.

As you move back on your knees to unbuckle his belt Jake moves with you, sitting up quickly so that he can continue to kiss you. Sneaking his tongue into your mouth and soothing a deep down ache in your heart.

His right hand runs up and down your back while his left undoes his belt and jeans.

You’re so caught up in the feel of his lips against yours, how he sighs and moves against you that you don’t notice as he gently coaxes you up. How he pulls at your hip, until you feel the brush of denim as he pushes his jeans and underwear down to his thighs.

You rock back, gliding over his cock with your folds and covering it with your wetness.

Jake gasps into your mouth, both of his hands flying to your waist as he encourages you to repeat the action. The task of completely removing his jeans momentarily forgotten.

He’s so warm, the slide of his velvety soft skin sends sparks of pleasure up your spine that eradicate almost every other thought.

“Fuck,” Jake pushes you back and forth over his length, the muscles in his arms twitching under your hands. “I need to be inside of you, I-”

You raise yourself up quickly, fuelled with such a burning need that the movement is almost automatic. You take hold of his cock before lining it up with your entrance and slowly easing yourself down onto him.

Jake clutches you tightly, you can feel the tension in his muscles as he fights the urge to ram into you.

A little choked sob escapes your throat the moment he’s fully sheathed in you; the tip of his cock pressing so deep at this angle that you can see stars.

“You okay?” His voice is strained, but controlled, as his hands come to rest on either side of your face. There’s a level of concern in his eyes that seeps into your chest.

You nod furiously, so caught up in the feeling of him inside you that you nearly forget how to speak. “I’m good,” you shift your hips a little, rocking back and forth ever so slightly to adjust to the stretch of him. “You feel so good.”

His cock twitches as you speak and your walls clench around him instinctively as Jake groans as he buries his face into your chest. Littering you breasts with kisses as he slides his hands down your spine to rest at your lower back.

His hold is light, reverent. But guiding, as he encourages you to move how you want to. How you need to.

You lift your hips and slowly sink back down onto him and Jake can’t help but rising up to meet you, watching you intently as you gasp and throw your head back, how you screw your face up in pleasure.

Your mind is empty, your brain overcome with the feel of him and your body takes over. You lift up again, bouncing hard on his cock as he thrusts up to meet your every movement.

The creak of the settee and the slap of skin against skin are drowned out by both of your moans. Heat is quickly coiling in your stomach as you hurtle towards another orgasm; you grip hold of Jake’s shoulders and push forward, changing the angle slightly.

Jake swears, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, before shoving his thumb in his mouth to wet it and then pressing it to your clit.

You cry out at the touch as he circles your bundle of nerves perfectly in time with the slide of his cock. Your thigh muscles are burning with the force of your thrusts, but you are too far gone to care, to even truly feel it as the pleasure rises higher and higher.

“Amor, fuck,” Jake’s voice is low, strained, as if he’s trying to hold onto any last part of his self control. “I’m going to-”

His words push you over the edge, your moan cutting off his words as your orgasm blinds you, seizes every muscle into bliss.

Jake thrusts up into your tight heat once before he groans and comes, holding you close as he emptied himself into you.

Your heartbeat echoes in your ears as you come back to yourself and loosen your grip on Jake’s shoulders. As you shift slightly, material brushes against your skin and you can’t help but laugh as you look down to see his jeans just above his knees. “You’re still wearing your trousers.”

Jake stares at you blankly for a moment, thoughts fucked completely out before he registers the meaning of your words and grins. He nestles into your neck. “Sorry.”

That makes you laugh again. “Why are you sorry?” You move, running your hands through his soft hair so that you can look him in the eyes. “Weren’t you uncomfortable?”

He shrugs, grinning. “I didn’t notice. I was a little preoccupied.”

You snort. “Were you?”

He nods and leans up to kiss you again. It’s soft and sweet. Gentle as he dips his tongue between your lips. There’s a rush of heat downwards and you can feel him start to grow hard again.

Jake nuzzles his nose against your cheek, and there’s something about the movement, the openness of the gesture that makes you cling tighter to him.

“I should be sorry,” his voice is low in your ear. “We never did get to the bed. But,” he raises his eyebrows suggestively as he moves back ever so slightly. “The night is young.”

#jake lockley x f!reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley #female reader #fem reader #moon knight #moon knight x f!reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight x you #moon knight mcu #fanfic #my writing #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #x reader

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myveryownfanfiction · 3 months

Text

Sharpuary day 14: Valentine

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

warnings: swearing

I flinched as another singing valentine made it's way past my office. Closing the door hadn't done any good and at this point I was nervous to open it. There was no way of telling how many people, students and staff alike, would have sent one to me. Over the years, students would send them to staff as a joke even though a few of them would be serious. I happened to know Ronen got quite a few telling him how much they loved his class while Garlick got so many serious ones that she would use them as lining for the more deadly plants the students grew. There was only one I was looking forward to and I knew it wouldn't be behind the door should I open it.

"Is it safe to open the door or do you not want to know what's on the other side?" I heard Aesop call through. Laughing, I waved my wand and watched as the door opened enough to let him slip through before slamming shut again.

"How bad is it out there?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows at him. Aesop smiled.

"Well I saw Ronen's. Garlick's. Dinah's." He listed off. "I think Weasley sent one although I'm not sure which one. Maybe both. Fig's protege for sure because it was more of a package than a valentine." I nodded.

"If Garrett Weasley sent me one I better be careful then." I said. Aesop gave me a sympathetic smile. "Might as well go round them up and hope that's the last of them." I sighed as I stood up. "Meet you back in your chamber's?" Aesop nodded.

"Or I could help you carry them back." He offered. I nodded with a small smile.

"Did you get any this year?" I asked as I finally opened the door, waving my wand to pile them up.

"The usual from the professor sharp fan club." He shrugged. "Fig's protege. Garlick. Ronen. Dinah." I watched him pick up half the pile before tucking them under his arm. "Just the normal ones really."

"You know, I've been waiting all day for one from you. It never arrived." I teased. Aesop smiled softly at me.

"That's because I was waiting for yours." He said. I smiled at him as I led the way out of my office. We started towards the faculty tower. "Seriously though, I was hoping to give it to you in person tonight." I nodded.

"I was hoping to do the same." I said with a blush. "I am going to warn you though, it is incredibly cheesy." Aesop laughed as I opened my door.

"Good. Mine is going to equally cheesy. If not more." He said as he set the valentines on the coffee table. "I also arranged for a dinner to be brought here and thought maybe we could walk around the grounds when the stars come out." I plopped down in the chair closest to the fire and smiled happily up at him.

"That actually sounds wonderful Aesop." I admitted. "I couldn't ask for a better valentine's day." He smiled at me before taking the seat next to me. Reaching into my robes, I pulled out his valentine. "Forgive me if you have heard the joke before." I said as I handed it to him. Aesop took it and laughed as he read it. There was a picture of a bottle of amortentia on it.

"You put a spell on me." Aesop laughed. I nodded shyly at him. "Oh I love it." He said, leaning over to kiss me. "This is the best one I have ever gotten." Blushing, I ducked my head down with a smile.

"Glad you like it." I said. Aesop reached into his jacket and pulled one out. He hesitated before putting it in my lap.

"Like I said...equally chessy." He said softly. I picked up the card and turned it over. I giggled as I watched the golden snitch move over the the Quidditch hoops over and over again.

"You're quite the catch." I read through my giggles. I looked over at Aesop with a smile. "I love it." He smiled softly at me. Two glasses of firewhiskey appeared at a wave of Aesop's wand. "Happy Valentine's Day." I said as I raised my glass.

"Happy Valentine's Day luv." Aesop said as he clinked his glass against mine before taking a sip.

#aesop sharp #aesop sharp x reader #aesop sharp fanfic #aesop sharp fanfiction #aesop sharp imagine #professor sharp #professor sharp x reader #professor sharp fanfic #professor sharp fanfiction #professor sharp imagine #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy imagine #sharpuary #sharpuary 2024

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year

Text

Busted By the Bird | Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @bradshawwannebe

Pairing: Modern!Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N) invites Tommy over to her flat after a night out. There, Tommy finds out some interesting things about the woman he's interested in.

Warnings: language, drinking

Word Count: 2428

A/N: this one’s a bit different than my usual stories, but it was such a fun prompt to consider. Just a quick disclaimer though: I’ve never had a bird nor interacted with a bird, so I’m sorry if the bird seems off…don’t worry, this’ll make sense once you read! Enjoy! :)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

Tommy and (Y/N) were both laughing about something one or the other had said as they came to (Y/N)'s flat's door after a night out at one of their usual spots. She suggested he'd come over to spend the night because it was close. The fact that the weather wasn't the best only helped her case.

"Now I must warn you before we go in..." (Y/N) started as she fished her keys out of her purse, "you're going to be very underwhelmed with everything in here."

"I'm sure I won't be," Tommy brushed her off.

"No, I mean it. You're used to high class...in here is how the normal people live," she insisted, emphasizing the word for effect. Tommy just chuckled at her statement and shook his head.

It still surprised (Y/N) that the business mogul, among other things, that was Tommy Shelby had an interest in being her friend. They met through a mutual friend and now had escalated things to spending nights out alone together. This was the first time he'd see her apartment though, because they'd always go to his afterwards.

"Just open the door, (Y/N)," he told her in a light voice, nodding his head to the door then.

"Oh, I should also warn you..." she started off again, pausing her statement to exude a giggle as she thought about what she was going to tell him, "I have a cat," she then said with the utmost seriousness.

Tommy's eyebrows raised slightly as he took in what she had to say. He blinked a few times, waiting to see if she had anymore to add. After a few beats of silence, he exhaled a breath of a laugh and shook his head, "that won't bother me," he told her.

"Ok. I just wanted to let you know before he surprised you. I know that some people aren't the best with cats," she told him her reasoning behind it before she finally went about opening the door to her home. "See?" she commented as they both walked in, "I told you that it's nothing much to look at," she said as she set her keys and purse down on the kitchen island that effectively split the two parts of the main living area up.

"It's fine," he brushed her off, taking off his jacket so that he was now only wearing a hoodie.

(Y/N) found herself looking him over, loving his casual look. It wasn't often that she saw him in a simple shirt and pair of jeans as he was always in some savvy suit, so she made sure to get a good mental image of it.

"You hear me?" Tommy's question brought her out of her thoughts, making her stare at him like a deer in the headlights. He chuckled at her stare. She obviously didn't hear what he'd said.

"I didn't," she admitted as her cheeks heated up, not even attempting to play it off like she was. "What were you saying?" she asked then, hoping he'd repeat himself.

"It was nothing," he brushed her off like he so commonly did, his answer making her frown.

"Tommy," she groaned, tipping her head back at his response.

"Where's your cat?" he asked her, shying them away from the previous topic.

"He's probably hiding...only comes out once in a while," she answered him, still pouting slightly at the fact that he was withholding information from her. Damn you brain and your stupid staring.

Tommy nodded at the information she'd shared with him, and silence fell between the both of them then. It only hung in the air for a few moments before a rather prominent 'squawk!' came from the living room side of the flat. Tommy immediately looked in the direction of the sound, finding a cage sitting up against the room's far wall. He then looked back at (Y/N), a look that was a combination of surprise and confusion present on his face.

"I forgot to tell you that I have a bird," (Y/N) stated, a bit of sheepishness present in her voice. She now felt like she wanted to facepalm herself for not disclosing this information to him. But honestly, She didn't even think to tell him that she had a bird, because who's bothered by birds?

"A bird and a cat. That's...interesting?" Tommy commented, a grin on his face as he thought of the irony of the situation.

"They're fine with each other. Chip stays in his cage and Simon enjoys watching him from the arm of the chair that's closest to the cage," she explained the living situation of her two pets.

"Chip and Simon," he tried the animals' names out for himself, chuckling slightly, "I like that."

"I went simple with the names," she brushed his compliment off as she moved around the kitchen island to go to the small wine rack that was sitting on the counter, "want some wine?" she asked him then, turning with a bottle in her hand.

"Sure," he shrugged, making her nod before she moved to the cabinet where the glasses were stored. She grabbed two before moving back to where he was standing by the island.

"I know it's not your whiskey, but it'll do, right?" her question was more like a comment as she poured two, decent portions out for the both of them.

"It'll do," he echoed her statement, smiling at her as she handed him one of the glasses.

"Let's go sit on the couch instead of standing around the island," she said next, nodding her head towards the living area, "fancy a movie?" she asked as they made their way over.

"Sure," he gave another simple response as they both sat down. (Y/N) nodded her head, grabbing the remote from the coffee table so that she could turn on the tv and log onto one of her streaming services.

They settled on a movie that neither had seen but had good reviews, and settled into watching it rather quickly. About twenty minutes in, (Y/N) offered to go get some more wine. Instead of sitting in her normal spot when she returned, she decided to move closer to where Tommy was on the couch to see how he'd react. He said nothing, just accepted his wine with a smile and focused back on the movie. (Y/N) smiled at that and looked back at the screen as well.

Several minutes into watching the movie again, Tommy rested his hand on (Y/N)’s thigh that was closest to his. He set it on it gently at first, as if he was testing the waters, but after a few minutes of nothing said, he pressed his fingertips into her skin slightly. From the corner of his eye, he could see her glance over at him. This only made him grin.

Some more minutes passed before (Y/N) decided to make the next move. Tommy's hand was still resting on her thigh, so she decided to lift her legs up and lay them over his thighs to see how he'd react. He moved his hand as she made her move and then brought it down to rest on her kneecap so that he could hold her legs in place. She felt his eyes on her, so she looked over at him, which almost immediately made butterflies erupt in her stomach. They held eye contact for a few moments before she looked away, her cheeks heating up along with the rest of her body.

"I really like him!" came out of nowhere from the cage in the corner of the room, followed by a loud 'squawk'. (Y/N)'s eyes widened as she heard what Chip had just said, and if she wasn't blushing before, now she certainly was.

I hope that he didn't hear that! she screamed internally as she dared to look in Tommy's direction. Her embarrassment only increased when she found him staring back at her with eyes full of shock. Immediately, she went to cover what her bird had said: "he's just saying what I say about Harry Styles," she told him, laughing sheepishly in hopes to play this announcement off as normal.

"Ohh," Tommy drew out the word as he nodded, his eyebrows raised slightly at her admission. He knew that it wasn't a whole-truth, she listened to his music, sure, but she wasn't one of those superfans that dedicate their life to an artist. But at the same time, he could see that she was pretty flustered by her feathered friend's outburst, so he didn't comment on her explanation of it. He simply squeezed her knee and focused his attention back on the movie; playing catch-up now because he'd missed a few moments of it.

"I can back it up if you want," (Y/N) stated, trying to make the air around them less awkward. She was internally thanking the gods for sparing her the conversation she thought she'd be having. She should have known better to not have conversations with her friends about her crush on Tommy in the same room as Chip. That bird was all ears and had a track record of blurting out things like this.

"No, it's fine," he brushed her off, and she nodded before they went back to watching the movie.

They were able to watch a good bit more of the movie before Chip was talking again: "Tommy Shelby!" he squawked before proceeding to make kissing noises.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened at the bird's words. "Chip, I swear, shhhh!" she exclaimed in a harsh whisper after she realized that he was going to keep making the kissing noises until he got yelled at. Another trait that bird had was that he didn't know when to stop. She then squeezed her eyes shut, not even wanting to see what Tommy's reaction to the statement was. It took her a few seconds to muster up the courage to open her eyes again, but when she did, she immediately took to apologizing. "I'm sorry that he just said that. He always listens to my gossiping, and then he..."

"There's no need to apologize, (Y/N)," he cut her off before she could get into rambling on.

"I know, but I just feel so embarrassed that you had to find out about my crush on you from my bird," she said, trying to keep her cheeks from heating up anymore as she finally admitted her crush on him. It was pretty much out there in the open already...why not just own it?

"I mean I kind of already figured it..." Tommy trailed off, a slight smile on his face, "we're here cuddling 'n all...I'd hope you'd have an interest in me," he added, his words making (Y/N) exhale a giddy laugh. A huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders upon hearing what he had to say. A part of her was still expecting him to reject her. They focused back on the movie then, and (Y/N) finally felt her cheeks start to cool down. She could still feel Tommy looking over at her from time to time, but she decided to ignore it instead of giving herself the opportunity to make a fool out of herself again. "So that first statement wasn't referring to Harry Styles then?" he finally broke the silence and asked her, this time making her turn to face him.

A sheepish smile formed on her face as she shook her head. "No," she responded verbally, laughing slightly as a grin formed on Tommy's face.

"Well that's good because I'd like to know that before I went and did this," he stated before he started to lean in towards her. Holy shit!, (Y/N)'s mind was screaming as it felt like time was going in slow motion, holy shit, he's going to kiss me!. She said nothing though, and instead let her eyes flutter closed as she felt his breath fan across her lips.

Before their lips could touch, Chip'd chimed in with one more statement: "kiss the girl!" he exclaimed, making (Y/N) and Tommy pull back slightly and begin laughing.

"That'd be from The Little Mermaid," (Y/N) said in between her laughter as she looked over at Tommy.

"No," Tommy shook his head, "that'd be your bird being my wingman," he finished his statement, his words making another round of butterflies erupt in her stomach. He grinned at her as he leaned in again, this time leaving no room for the bird to interrupt as he pressed his lips to (Y/N)'s.

(Y/N) quickly kissed him back, her hand slipping behind his neck so that she could hold him close to her as their lips moved together seamlessly. Tommy's hand slid up her thigh, grabbing onto the swell of her hip so that he could manage to bring her body just the slightest bit closer to his. His tongue ran across her bottom lip, asking for entrance, and she was just about to give it to him when he pulled away with an 'oof'.

She opened her eyes to find that Simon had now (literally) joined the party by jumping onto Tommy's lap, effectively knocking the wind out of him in the process. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth, hoping that Tommy wouldn't notice the fact that she was trying to hold in her laughter.

"I'm guessing that this is Simon," he said when he finally had regained his breathing, looking down at the cat, who'd already made himself comfortable in the little crevice present between his abdomen and (Y/N)'s leg.

"That would be Simon," (Y/N) responded with stifled laughter, "and I think that he likes you," she pointed out, smiling at Tommy.

Tommy dropped his head back against the couch's cushion as he sent a grin in (Y/N)'s direction. He was glad that his interest in (Y/N) was requited, and that she seemed to be open to exploring things further with him. His only hope was that the next time they spent together, whether it be in the next few days or the next few minutes, would be without the added company of her lovely animals. But for now, he just looked at her with adoration as she giggled at the scene in front of her, his one hand petting the cat that had now taken up residence on his lap.

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @lora21 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @dragons-are-my-favorite @sunsetbeachesandwriting @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #modern tommy shelby

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the-bottom-of-the-abyss · 1 year

Text

siren song - chapter 5

Masterlist

previous chapter: chapter 4

next chapter: chapter 6

A/N: Sorry for the wait, guys!! Likely it won't be that long in between updates in the future because I am also obssessed with this story. Also, you can't tag more than 100 people on a post so I'm doing the rest in the comments and I'm hoping it works!! Thank you for all the love on the story, it means the world to me ❤️ Also this is a tad bit shorter than usual but next chapter will probably be really long so it should even out!!

Siren

August 30 2022

2100, Classified location, Las Almas

The darkness of the night surrounded you, only broken up by headlights from the two cars you and the rest of your team exited from. The illumination allowed you to take in the desert around you, the dry sand and the occasional cacti. Nothing could be seen for miles and the only semblance of life seemed to be the call of nearby coyotes. It was such a deserted space, you almost expected a tumbleweed to roll by.

You leaned against the side of one of the cars and watched Ghost do the same at the other vehicle.

Soap and Alejandro dragged a struggling Hassan from the car near you and into the middle while Graves set up a laptop on the ground.

“On your knees,” Soap ordered, pushing Hassan to the desert floor along with Alejandro’s help.

“Y’all got a clear picture?” Graves asked after setting up the video call with Shepherd and Laswell. Alejandro yanked off the black hood covering Hassan and stayed standing behind him, gun at the ready.

“Crystal,” Shepherd’s voice rang out from the laptop.

“All set,” Laswell confirmed.

“Alright, we are live, folks,” Graves said, walking over to join Soap in standing in front of Hassan. Graves hooked his thumbs into the front of his vest, giving off an air of ease.

Before Graves could utter a single word, Hassan spoke up first.

“Do you speak Arabic?”

“No,” Graves replied.

“Farsi?”

Graves looked up in annoyance before leveling a bored stare at Hassan. “No.”

“Course not. Then I’ll speak you bastardized medieval English,” Hassan gave a small smile, “because you are all uneducated street dogs.”

Graves looked down and shook his head in mock-disappointment.

“Ah, see… we’re getting off to a bad start here, Hassan.”

“You are talking to a Quds Force officer.”

“You’re the commander of a foreign terror organization,” Graves stated.

“I can say the same to you,” Hassan replied. His attempts at provocation failed, with none of you reacting to what was a very pathetic attempt at cleverness.

“What’s your target, ‘Major’?” Graves asked, tacking on the last bit with thinly veiled sarcasm.

“What was your target when they sent missiles to my land?”

Graves shrugged before looking back to Hassan. “Oh well, wild guess… To nail your ass.”

“So insolent and foul-mouthed,” Hassan said with distaste, “You will learn to respect me when your nation sees fire.”

Graves took a step forward, getting even closer. “You are in bed with the cartel, Hassan. If you disappeared, no one would know where to look for the fuckin’ stain.” The last bit was said through gritted teeth; personally, you wouldn’t have shown any sense of anger or frustration with a man like Hassan who clearly craved it. In your opinion, nonchalance and indifference would work best, but alas, it was not your interrogation.

Hassan laughed. “I have no doubt you’ll take pleasure in torturing me.”

Soap interrupted the back and forth between Graves and Hassan, asking, “Who’d you get American missiles from?”

Almost immediately, Shepherd cut in. “I don’t care who they’re from, I wanna know where they’re going.”

You furrowed your eyebrows slightly; surely, he would want to know who the supplier was in order to prevent more from getting into the wrong hands. It struck you as odd, the hardness in his voice. Maybe you were reading into things too much, but based on the look on Soap’s face, you weren’t the only one.

Graves stepped away from Hassan and looked at the immediate, desolate surroundings. As if on cue, coyotes began howling.

“Take a look around, Hassan,” Graves said, now bending to be eye-level with Hassan. “Now, you can either become part of the food chain or you can start talking.”

“I’m a hostage here. This is illegal.”

Alejandro placed a firm hand on Hassan’s shoulder. “You’re a prisoner of war.”

Hassan attempted to rear back and look at Alejandro but was stopped by the hand on his shoulder.

“Iran is not at war with Mexico. I’ve broken no laws. These men and their commanders are the law breakers,” Hassan declared, looking at every one of your team.

“You and your beloved General Ghorbani broke every—“ Soap was instantly cut off by an enraged Hassan.

“Do not speak his name!” he roared. “You executed him and you will pay for your crimes!”

This outburst brought a lazy smirk to your face. You simply could not stay back any longer, not when it was finally getting good.

You sauntered up next to Soap and Graves and joined them in towering over Hassan.

“Men,” you said humorously, your smirk never faltering, “always so dramatic.”

Hassan lunged towards you, causing Alejandro to tighten his grip and Soap to aim his gun at Hassan but you didn’t move. You simply chuckled as he spit out something you assumed to be an insult. You were not afraid of this man. You were not afraid of many men, not anymore.

Before you could say anything else, Shepherd’s voice, full of frustration, came through the laptop.

“I want this bastard in permanent custody or looking up at the goddamn grass…”

“General,” Laswell cautioned, “killing Hassan is an act of war, keeping him is illegal. Right now, he is too hot to hold.”

“Tell me you’re getting something actionable, Laswell.”

“Working on it. Stand by.”

Graves walked to the laptop and placed it on the hood of the car that Ghost stood next to.

“Actual, let me finish this,” Graves implored.

“There is nothing I would like more,” Shepherd admitted. “But Laswell’s right. Without proof we need to turn him loose. See where he leads us.”

“He’s right here. You can’t be serious,” Soap said incredulously.

“I’m afraid I am, son.”

At that, Hassan smirked.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Ghost looking down at Hassan’s phone. “Did we get anything from his phone?”

“Affirmative,” Laswell answered. “We got a hit.”

“Good,” Shepherd said. “Now take him back and let him go.”

Alejandro threw a hood back over Hassan’s head and dragged him up. On the way, Ghost slid the phone into Hassan’s jacket pocket while Soap shut the laptop, killing the connection to Washington.

——

Siren

31 August 2022

0800, Mexican Special Forces base, Las Almas

No orders had been given after letting Hassan go. You assumed others in the task force besides your fellow Sergeant and Lieutenant were on the lead from Hassan’s phone. You instead were to wait for further instructions and remain in the base along with the Mexican Special Forces and Shadow PMC boys. You seemed to be one of the only women around, and it seemed several pairs of eyes followed you wherever you went.

Except when Ghost was around apparently. Only at breakfast when you sat in silence with your team did you see people look at you then quickly avert their gaze.

The joke was on them, though. They may stereotype based on Ghost’s menacing aura and mask, but the most dangerous kind of person is the one you’d never expect.

Feeling a little restless, you found yourself training. First, to warm up, you decided to practice throwing knives. You were pretty confident in your skills, but it never hurt to be repetitive.

You began with the closest dummy, aiming for every major artery you could hit while your target was stationary. However, you, as well as anybody knew, that rarely did a perfect shot line up. Most of the time, you dealt with people running towards or away from you, which is why the moving feature of the target dummies was so useful. As it moved back and forth, you carefully but swiftly took your aim and hit the mark, this time only trying for the heart or head; any fancy knifework was not worth the possibilty of missing your mark, something you knew from experience.

You smiled at your own skills. You weren’t always like that though; You became good out of necessity, not fascination with the craft. However, the necessity was the best kind of teacher, where one missed mark would lead to death and every hit was a step to freedom.

As you walked up to retrieve the knives, you felt the weight of someone’s gaze on your back. A few of Graves’ boys were standing around, looking at your handiwork. And in the way back, you saw a familiar, masked face watching you too.

—

After an hour or so of doing knife work, you left to explore the other training facilities. It was a large base, one that had extensive opportunities for skill improvement that you fully intended to take advantage of.

You found the hand-to-hand area fairly quickly, on account of Soap and Ghost trying to take each other out. They were covered in a layer of sweat, indicating they had been at it a while.

“C’mon Johnny,” Ghost drawled out, “you can do better.”

“Go fuck yourself, Lt.” Johnny replied, attempting to land a punch in Ghost’s side, only to be blocked with ease.

You sat on the sideline and watched as they battled it out. In all honestly, both were very good, with only a handful of blows landing for each of them.

Eventually though, Ghost had Soap in headlock of sorts on the ground and Soap tapped out.

“Damn, Lt.,” Soap said, catching his breath. “gonna put me out of commission.”

“Nah, I think you still got some fight in you,” Ghost told him.

“I think I’m done for today,” Soap said. “Maybe we can rematch another time.”

“Alright, mate.”

As Soap walked off, Ghost grabbed his water and lifted the balaclava just enough for him to place the bottle to his lips.

You unabashedly watched his Adam’s apple move with each drink and stared at his lips as they cradled the bottle rim. Never before had you been so fascinated by a pair of lips, especially ones not belonging to a target. And even then, you were more interested in getting their lips on you so you could distract them enough to get what you really needed.

This time though, there was no ulterior motive to watching your superior officer. Just pure intrigue, one that you weren’t sure whether you wanted to fuel or douse with water.

Ghost finished his drink, pulled his balaclava back down, and turned to you. You did not startle when he looked straight at you; you figured he knew you were there from the moment you entered. He seemed like someone who was always aware, always on guard, just like you.

“Siren,” he greeted as you walked towards him.

“Need a sparring partner?” you asked, stopping to stand in front of him.

“You want to fight?” Ghost’s voice made the question seem more like a statement.

“Think I can’t handle you?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sure you can handle me just fine, Sergeant,” he said with a low timbre that made a pang of desire to go through your body. “Just making sure.”

In lieu of an answer, you backed up to stand across from him and stood at the ready. He nodded at you and and you returned the gesture, signaling that you were ready for whatever he had in store.

He was large, but you were fast and a quick thinker. There had been many times that called for hand-to-hand and almost always, your opponent was bigger than you; this was no different.

Like in all the movies, you began just circling each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“You’re holding out on me, Lieutenant,” you baited.

“I could say the same,” he replied.

You circled each other on the mat a few more times before you finally decided to make the first move.

You approached quickly, acting as if you were going to punch him in the face but instead went for a gut shot with your other fist. Not your best move, but the fight was just getting started.

He grabbed your wrist before it made contact with his stomach, his grip bruising.

You easily broke out of his hold but not before he threw a swing your way. You leaned out of the way, barely, and instead kicked him in his side. His hand briefly encircled your ankle before you yanked it back, not allowing him to end the fight just yet.

Almost immediately he was on you again, this time actually landing a hit with a knee to your stomach. You briefly doubled over and he unsuccessfully attempted to follow up by grabbing you, only stopped by your quick recovery.

You traded blows back and forth, with each hit becoming more and more passion-fueled.

After a few minutes he finally got ahold of you fully by grabbing your ponytail and pulling you by it. In your attempt to free yourself he grabbed both wrists and held them in one hand.

Ghost held you against his body, with you facing away from him. One hand wrapped around your throat while the other was occupied keeping your wrists from breaking free.

“Mmm, kinky,” you purred, arching your back to press further into his hold. “But you’re going to have to try harder than that to impress me.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, tightening his grip around your neck.

“Yeah,” you answered, going limp in his arms. Caught off guard, his grip faultered, allowing you to break free from his grip and sweet his feet from under him. You wasted no time straddling him and pinning his wrists above his head.

You didn't get to celebrate the small victory, though, because within seconds he was flipping you over, putting you in the same position. You attempted to buck your hips up and free yourself but he didn’t budge.

You let yourself go limp once more, this time in mock-defeat.

“Give up?” Ghost teased, bringing his masked-face closer to you.

You knew you weren't the only one to feel the tension constantly tying the two of you together; he played dirty, as evidenced by yanking on your hair. You wouldn't show him any mercy just because the two of you shared moments

You widened your eyes in feigned surprise at the closeness. He stopped so close that you could feel his breath brush against your lips, and you could see individual fibers sticking out of the balaclava.

You made your breath hitch, causing him to glance down. You bit your lip and watched his gaze follow the action. You wanted him to feel like a predator, finally catching his prey; like he was in control.

He brought your wrists together so he could hold them together while his free hand found itself around your throat once again. You leaned into the touch, and he slid his hand upwards, thumb moving to touch your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slightly and he took it as an invitation to slip it in to rest on your tongue. Without pause, you hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked and caressed it with your tongue, eliciting a very quiet groan from the man above you. He took his thumb out from your mouth and dragged it down your chin and neck, stopping at the top of your tank top on your chest. Ghost’s eyes were a wildfire, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t want to be utterly and completely consumed by it.

However, you needed to prove to him that you could handle yourself just fine.

Right as he breathed in to say something, you quickly headbutted him as hard as you could and in the confusion, brought your legs to your chest and pushed him off completely.

You scrambled to jump on top of him and lock his head in between your legs. You tightened your hold as he tried to pry you off of him to no avail.

“Give up?” you mocked with a smirk.

He patted the mat twice with a hand and you released him from your hold.

You both got to your feet, both breathing heavily, and you reached out a hand.

Ghost grabbed it and shook it firmly. Before letting go, he pulled you closer, bringing you within inches of his face.

“You play a dangerous game, Siren,” he warned quietly.

“I invented the game, Ghost,” you told him with a coy smile.

For a moment, everything was still. It felt like that tension was finally going to snap, and maybe you could finally get him out of your system. His eyes dropped to your lips again and you took a small step closer. It felt like walking a tightrope, this back and forth with him.

But instead, he dropped your hand, eyes roaming beyond you and to the group of Shadows and Graves that just walked in.

Without another word, Ghost left, leaving you to relish in your victory and think about the taste of his skin.

—

Later, you finished off your training at the range once again, this time using an MCPR-300 sniper rifle for a change. You were doing fairly well, managing to hit the bullseye for a majority of the shots when you heard someone walk in behind you.

“It’s me.” Soap walked up, taking the window beside you and pulling out his own rifle. “Pretty sweet facility, eh?”

“Absolutely,” you replied. “Haven’t practiced in something this nice in a while.”

“I thought the Americans were all about the military,” he commented, attaching his scope.

“Oh, they are,” you reassured. “I’m never in the same place for very long so I don’t get to experience it much anymore.”

Soap lined up his rifle for a shot. He took aim and fired, hitting the target in the head. You took a turn, running through the same ritual. Breathe, aim, fire.

“But not in the beginning?” he asked.

“No, I joined just like everyone else,” you told him.

Both of you traded shots back and forth for a bit. You let the silence sit, knowing that he likely would drop any questions if you stayed quiet. But a part of you geniuenly was curious about your teammates; the only time you ever got to know people was reading their file right before being tasked with killing them. It was a lonely life, not that you minded most of the time. You decided that you would let yourself be companionable, just for the time being, just until you were alone again.

“Why’d you join?” you asked him.

“Cousin was in the British Army and I visited him a lot,” Soap told you. “I wanted to join too. I even lied about my age a few times, but I got caught every time.”

You chuckled at the thought. He laughed as well, but a blush spread up his neck in embarrasment at the tale.

“You?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Not much else to do. Didn’t know my parents, aged out of the system. It was something to do and something to keep food in my stomach.”

“Damn,” he said quietly. You figured it was out of pity and not only did you not want it, you didn’t want to bring down the entire conversation. It was a lonely upbringing, yes, and not the easiest either. But at the end of the day, you survived. Your time growing up didn't even make it in the top fifteen of the more less-than-ideal situations you had been in. It really was a matter of perspective. And to Soap, who has no clue about the rest of your life, you knew how it sounded and why he reacted in that way.

“Doesn’t really bother me,” you told him. “Maybe back then, but I’m glad I joined. I’m good at what I do and I’m not sure who I’d be without it.”

The last bit was a little more than you intended on admitting, but you trusted these men to watch your back, it wasn’t too much more to let them have a glimpse of your true self, whoever she was. Between the different masks and personas, you sometimes got a small taste of who you used to be, but for the most part, she was long gone, hidden away.

You stood in the silence together, both of you continuing to practice. It was nice, the feeling of camaraderie. It made you a little melancholy to think of going back to working alone. It was inevitable though; most jobs you did called for deep infilatration and just you. Recently, your assignments had been shorter, not requiring you to integrate yourself seemlessly in a targets life, but you have had your fair share of them over the years.

“Siren?”

Both you and Soap looked to the Shadow who walked into the range.

“Yes?” you answered.

“General Shepherd is asking for you.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll be right there.” you told him, beginning to disassemble your gun.

“Wonder why,” Soap muttered after the mercenary left.

“No idea,” you told him.

—

“General,” you greeted as his face popped up over the video call.

He sighed.

“Siren, I need a win right now,” he began. “There are some… unfortunate events that have occurred that are keeping Laswell away. It’s being taken care of, but we need more on these missiles.”

You wanted to ask about Laswell, but his tone was enough to deter you. Surely, you would hear about it soon anyways.

“Go out and be my eyes and ears,” he ordered. “No need to exterminate any of the locals, but wear a wire or something for Mexican Special Forces to listen in and translate. See if you can hear anything about the head of the cartel. I have a feeling that will be the next place we have to look.”

“Of course, sir,” you told him. “To clarify, you want only me to go?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, of course not. Just double checking.” You could just imagine how annoyed Ghost will be. He's already shown that he wants you to have backup, though if the roles were reversed, he would refuse it for himself. This time, though, your hands were tied, even if you did want someone watching your back.

He nodded and ran a hand down over his face. He looked about ten years older than usual and clearly has had some difficulty sleeping if his dark circles were anything to go by. “I need this done tonight. I want a debrief when the night is over.”

“Yes, sir.”

Taglist:

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#ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost fanfiction #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod mw22

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vilsoo · 2 years

Text

prize counter girl ☆ six

➥ michael afton x camgirl!reader

you’ve been a camgirl for only a few months and everyone loves the content you post. when michael afton porn surfs to relieve his stress, he comes across your videos. the more he jerks off to your content, the more he’s addicted. but it wasn’t until, a few months later, he sees your familiar face as the new employee working at the prize counter.

chapter warnings. none

notes. once again apologize with the slow paced updates 😔but thank you bbys for reading and enjoying <33 next chapter will be steamy and hopefully worth the wait

pcg materlist • previous • chapter seven

tags. @jaeeeeeeyito @xuilyie @matchafroggy @soft-spirit-ren @corrazon @ghostisinvis @milk-bulb @yukkomi @michaelaftonshusband @mikeesz @queen-simp @m00n-drifter @akazxii @setethstuff @roody-y-a @halparkebitch @erensslut @aftonpartner @astrobunny @woahhajime @chiroomii @matchakittycat @sanzu-s @gggwyniee @vintagexparker @wh0rephobic

Working for the first three hours went surprisingly easy for you. The arcade was half-empty this Friday morning and everyone obviously doesn't show up until about noon, where things start to get crazier. If working full-time on some weekdays allows your mornings to start off calm and quiet as this, you had no complaints.

It was better than sitting around at home all day and not getting anything done.

It was lunch break. You head to the arcade dining area, noticing Michael arranging some pizza boxes on the table until he noticed you approaching. By now he's more alleviated and composed around you, like how a well-behaved, professional manager should act in the workplace. But deep down, he always ends up in a sinking feeling, like knots tied in his stomach. Too much guilt, too much pressure, too much underlying feelings. The only way to subdue them, but not get rid of them entirely, was to maintain that professional impression.

"Hey. We've got pizza for lunch. You know, the usual."

You sit across from him at a booth, setting down your water bottle to grab a napkin, a paper plate, and then a slice. Michael follows suit, eyes darting at random corners to avoid prolonged contact or getting caught staring at you. At least there wasn't any lingering awkwardness or some kind of tension floating in there compared to before. Michael is finally at ease enduring the silence where a single word doesn't have to be spoken. But he did want to engage in conversation with you anyway.

"So. How's the arcade so far? Any problems?"

Your softened gaze settles onto his face. "No, thankfully. The arcade was half-empty. Everything seemed very peaceful to me."

Michael gives a small chuckle. "Yeah, there's obviously not a lot of people in the mornings compared to our afternoons. But you still did good out there with assistance."

"Have you been watching me?"

The little smirk forming at the corner of your lips while asking the question made Michael almost choke on his pizza. The slight playfulness in your tone. The subtle head tilt you gave him. Already teasing him right at broad daylight that his cheeks could be turning hints of red anytime now. The flashbacks of you as a camgirl, dirty talking on your livestreams...

"No, not— Not like that! I'm your manager so, like... I just gotta look out for you, you know," he sputtered.

You had this hearty laugh at Michael's reply that he was suddenly amused by. "I was just kidding, Michael! I don't really mind you watching me. I mean, it's important to hear from you on how to improve my performance and other stuff. So thank you for that."

Michael gulped down a portion of his pizza along with his agitation. He decided to not say anything else— just embrace this beautiful kindness you've been giving each other everytime you're together. If only he could offer much more to you besides his generosity...

"Oh yeah. You mentioned before that during power hour is when things get crazy, right?" you suddenly inquired.

Michael was opening his can of Dr. Pepper. "Mhm. But this time you won't be alone at the prize counter. At around 4pm is when I'm stationed there— we'll be together."

"Well that won't be a problem for me at all," you beamed. "Also, what do you usually do in the mornings?"

"Just some adjustments over at Parts and Services. Sometimes you'll see me fixing the arcade machines, too. But sadly I can't stop by to talk to you."

There was this brief glimmer in your eyes; a doe, coquettish expression you gave while sipping on your fountain drink with a straw. "You must really enjoy my company, huh."

Michael's heart raced once again after mentally repeating what he just said. His face was starting to heat up again and he was struggling to maintain eye contact. If you were taking in his words with different undertones, he might as well be subtly flirting or hinting his little crush on you. And hell, you wouldn't be that oblivious of knowing. How many times has he blindly admitted to you so far already?

He nearly stammered again. "Uh— well, you know— It's encouraged for us to build good relationships with our employees. This is a family-friendly pizzeria, so..."

You stifled a soft chuckle, your knuckles pressed against your lips and your eyes squinting away from Michael's face. "Oh my god, Michael. It's okay! You know you don't always have to feel so pressured to act that professional around me. Especially when we're on break— c'mon now."

Michael dipped his head down to rub the back of his neck from how fucking flustered he was. There was discomfort in his stomach and his skin started growing hotter. It was sad enough to say no matter how many times he feels confident enough to be around you, he always lets himself down with embarrassment, especially internally.

"I know you've had a rough morning," you continued, "and it sucks not being able to get a lot of sleep, but... what I really meant is that you don't have to hide away your struggles from me with the rules you stick to as a manager or with your professionalism. If you want to build a good relationship with your employees, you gotta communicate. Obviously, I won't force you to open up to me or whatever, but only when you feel ready. We can always take it slow."

Michael kept his gaze down at the table, your words of courage and advice hanging over his head. Suddenly, he found himself tugging a small smile at the corner of his lips. His heart fluttered at how much you cared for him more than anybody at this goddamn job. Charlie was enough to keep him company before nightguard duty, but even though she's gone now, she never sought out his internal anxiety like you did.

What did a loser like him ever do to be eating pizza with a girl that cares more about him than himself?

You really cared a lot for him. As if his secret crush just couldn't get any worse— your interest in becoming closer with him was a good sign. But he can't let himself admit anything yet. Not until she's ready as well— it's all strictly platonic as of right now. Or at least, that's what it seems at the surface. But digging down deeper, there is this spark below the surface. Some kind of tension stirring— something that just couldn't be reached just yet.

Michael scoffs softly, finishing the last bite of his pizza. "You know, I've never received this kind of, um... kindness before, so I— I don't really know what to say besides that I appreciate you. So much. Your company is just what I need to keep me going."

As lunch break progresses, the tension was alleviated once again. It was as if most of the stressful weight finally got lifted off his shoulders, even though there is much more he needs to get off and confess about. But not right now. The both of you finish up your lunch while other employees were finally starting to come by on their breaks and grab a slice of pizza with drinks.

"So about power hour... What's gonna go down tonight?"

"Well, it's gonna be after school hours and kids are gonna be running around here," replied Michael. "A lot of young adults also come here for our happy hours, billiards, lazer tag, bowling— you know. My father strayed away from making the pizzeria have kids-only entertainment and made it inclusive for everyone."

"Yeah. That's what I really like about it," you acknowledged.

"Me too. On weekdays it's not really that crazy compared to Friday and Saturday nights. I mostly see more adults and arcade couples here more than kids. And it still gets hectic."

You scoffed. "Arcade couples?"

"Yeah." Michael inched closer to you in his seat and spoke lowly. "A couple weeks ago, one of the employees caught a couple, uh... having sex in the neon hallway that leads to the restroom for employees only."

Your jaw dropped in bewilderment. "Holy shit, no way. I just know that was very awkward and uncomfortable for the poor employee to walk into."

"Oh, it was. That was the first time that ever happened at the pizzeria, too. Like damn— there's kids here, you know."

As you two were wrapping up, Michael randomly thought about couples for some reason. Of course, one thought leads to another thought, and that thought ended up being you again. He often wondered about your past relationships, but that was absolutely none of his business. And even if he were to ask no matter how close the two of you get, hinting something like that would be extremely risky. He can't go too far into her personal life.

"I'll see you later, Michael. Take care," you say as you leave the arcade dining area. Michael kept subtly watching you with mire lingering thoughts in his head until you left, relaxing back in his seat and finishing his drink. But it wasn't until someone else decided to sit across from him.

". . . So. I see that you've been getting along quite well with Y/N," William says, feigning an enthusiastic smile. "See why I hired her? Her charisma and enthusiasm is just what we need here. What you need too, apparently."

Michael choked on his own words again, struggling with a proper response after surprising him like this. He didn't know how to take in the question since most of everything he says just sounds ominous or sardonic to him. As much as he wished to walk away from this conversation, he couldn't bring himself to even stand up. He couldn't deny to him that you and him were just together awhile ago. He was about to make an effort on drifting the attention on both of you together away as possible and now his very own father was getting suspicious.

"I, uh... I didn't know what to expect from her. She's just... good at what she does," Michael ruminated. There were a million more compliments to say about you but it could never see the light of day. Or— not until the right time. But on the other hand, William should never know. As much as he doesn't want to turn away from his rules and lead the both of you into trouble, he needs to learn to not let the cat out of the bag sometimes.

"You were so nervous the first time you met her. Why's that?"

All Michael could reply with was a weak shrug, keeping his thoughts to himself. Stay calm. Don't be a dumbass and blindly admit things nobody needs to know about.

"I don't know, father. I guess I just get tongue-tied a lot. But I'm not that nervous or awkward around her anymore. We're building a good work relationship— just what we need here as you always said."

"Hm... Work relationship," William mused. "It better stay that way, Michael. I don't want you or anybody else here flirting around in the workplace. You know our fraternization policy; romantic relationships are strictly prohibited. Especially when employees are in two different positions. We're a family-friendly place and our job is to entertain these kids."

"Wait a minute— Flirting around?" Michael frowned, pretending to act baffled from such an accusation. "What makes you think we were doing that? We're just really close coworkers. Nothing else."

"Sure... keep telling yourself that," William rolled his eyes, mimicking Michael's laid back position and keeping his arm over his head to lean on. "I've just never seen you act like this because of a girl. So I had my suspicions."

"Father, I swear. You trusted me before with the nightguard shift so I need you to trust me as a manager. I would never take advantage of Y/N or any employees in anyway, nor would I violate your policies."

"Well, that's exactly what I expected from you." William taunted, sighing deeply. "As much as I adore our newbies here along with Y/N, I don't want this 'relationship' to be distracting for both of you. She's not just your little eye candy walking around here to keep your life interesting, Michael. Got that?"

Michael pursed his lips and exhaled deeply through his nose. He already endured an unnecessary amount of exasperation and agitation and decided to not argue more.

"Yes, father. I understand..."

When Michael went back to work the next few hours, he thought about what's going to happen now knowing that William will be watching the close interactions between you two. This was exactly what Michael was afraid of— he knew he shouldn't have left his guard down. But... if you could do something as scandalous behind closed doors without letting anyone bat an eye, perhaps he could do the same, too.

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © . do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works outside tumblr. copying my layouts or themes will not be tolerated either.

#( ♥︎ ) — prize counter girl.#michael afton x you #michael afton x reader #michael afton smut #michael afton fluff #fnaf fluff #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #fnaf fanfic #michael afton fanfic

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thefriendlyferretwriter · 7 months

Text

A new side of you: Waltz of emotions

Pairing: Eugene 'Flash' Thompson x reader

Summary: Surprised, again and again.

Warning: 13k words, Tension, tension, tension, angst, a bit of fluff, OCs, don't know what else to warn you about.

A/N: I feel like this is standard by now but sorry again for being such a slow writer, I hope the fic is enough to be forgiven for my usual tardiness. Might have edited but I'm not a native speaker so get ready for plenty of mistakes, enjoy!

Tags: (Don't hesitate to tell me if you want to be added or removed, and thank you again for your feebacks ❤️) @loxerclu8 @wheelerzluv @ray-of-sunrise @m00nkn1ghts

People's view of the costume is accurate. The fabric is thin and flexible but unfortunately, it is quite a cold way to fight crimes during the chilly nights of New York.

"That was awesome! I wonder if it'll end up on the internet?"

"I doubt it. If it does end up there it'll be out of frame and shaky. The police were quite insistent when they were shoving people to safety," I say feeling the breeze as I swing around at full speed.

Landing with a huff I realize I'm out of breath, "Ned." I pant, "Remind me to get a custom binder, this one is killing me."

"I told you! You can't just buy any binder from the internet. It's like corsets, of course they are uncomfortable if they are not tailored for you!"

Your vendetta against Hollywood has reached another level," I say taking another deep breath.

With a leap I swing from the American Museum of Natural History and land on a school's rooftop.

A buzz makes me pause and crouch to check my phone and see a second call coming in from May.

"I got to go May is on the other line."

"Okay, 'night."

"'Night."

Swiping on my phone I wait for the inevitable.

"Where are you?!"

I try to defuse the damage as I look around, "I am at the park close to the flat," I draw out slowly.

"…Which park?"

…

"Do not tell me you're close to Central Park which is on the other side of the city."

"Okay, I won't say it."

"Damnit! you know I don't want you farther than Long Island at night!"

"I know, I know!" I whine, "But there was this guy with a huge Scorpion armor and he was doing mass destruction! The police couldn't do it alone they needed help!" I protest.

"Before being Spiderman you're my niece and my niece will obey the very few rules I put in place for her safety."

"Don't you think the fact that I can knock out people 3 times my size should allow me a bit of indulgence on those rules?"

"No young lady I read a ton of books on this and I know how this ends."

"How?" I ask curiously.

"Mostly teen pregnancy."

"Wow! Okay let's not be dramatic now, shall we?"

"And juvie," May continues her list.

"May I fight crimes, I don't commit it."

"Listen we have a system and it works, I don't get sarcastic with my boss and you don't go farther than Long Island past 11 PM."

"In retrospect, I think we should've thought harder on those rules."

"Too late, the system works and it's flawless. Now swing your ass back home before Spiderman gets grounded."

"Yes ma'am."

"Love you," she says smugly.

The line dies and I breathe out the annoyance I feel to then breathe in the fresh evening air.

Tearing off my mask I try to crack my neck and let it hang down to massage and release the night's tension when my eyes catch a familiar sigh.

Flash?

He sits on a bench with his phone in hand looking perplexed.

It's been a week since we last saw each other, or even talked. I didn't want to bother him and I have the feeling it's the same for him.

I look down at my wrist and fumble with the different settings before I find and activate the voice modificator.

Swinging down, I drop on the cemented ground and accidentally startle him as he jumps and stumbles to the floor.

"Oh shit, sorry I didn't mean to scare you," I say genuinely with my voice coming out deeper thanks to the device.

Stumbling around to step back up, Flash looks at Spiderman with wide eyes and his jaw on the floor.

A torrent of curses comes out of his mouth along with an excited laugh of disbelief.

"I can't believe it, it's you!" he says and motions to me up and down.

"Oh yeah, it's me!" I say rethinking my decision to offer guidance disguised as Spiderman in front of Flash Thompson.

"Oh my god I was having such a bad night and now I'm talking to Spiderman!"

"Yeah, that's awesome! Listen, I saw you from up there and you looked troubled and honestly a bit underdressed," I point to his light shirt.

"Oh yeah," he says more calmly looking down at his outfit, "I just needed to take a walk to think about-"

He hesitates.

"No that's not important."

"No way, tell me, that's why I came down here," I say sitting on the bench inviting him to join me.

It's not the first time that Spiderman has a sit-down with someone in distress; words being as useful as a handful of punches.

He sighs and sits down, "There's this um-Charity thing and my mom told me I had to bring a date and I told her I would but let's say it's easier said than done."

"Why's that? Having trouble finding a date?" I tease.

"No," he chuckles, "No actually I already know who I want to invite, but I don't know if she would say yes, and even then I don't really know where we stand. Inviting her could compromise everything," he says sliding his hands down his face with a pained sigh.

Is it me?

Who am I kidding? It's not because we kissed once that I'm his only date choice.

"Alright, so you have an idea. Why not ask her?"

"Because she could say no and I really do not want to have the conversation that would follow after that."

"What conversation?"

"You know the conversation!" he shouts full of frustration as he stands up from the bench, "The one a girl gives you when she's not interested in you. The one that goes 'It's not you, it's me' or the 'We're just friends' except in this case I'm not even sure we're friends to begin with!" he finishes his rant pacing left and right.

"That seems complicated," is the only thing I can say after a few moments of tense silence.

"Yeah and also what kind of date would be a charity event?"

"A date?" I choke out.

"I just-I've always been good at reading people, I know whether they hate me or they tolerate me. But recently it's been hard to read her."

I listen silently nodding my head from time to time.

"Before, she just rolled her eyes or would just snap back at me but now she listens to me and she worries about me and I just-I like being around her. I just worry it is all just a front and she's simply gonna drop me or tell me we're not actually friends and she just had pity on me and took me for some sort of charity case."

He finishes sitting back down his head in his hands.

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have kissed her." he groans.

I'm thankful for the mask covering my flushed face.

So it is about me.

It couldn't be anyone else. Flash Thompson is a lot of things. Sometimes an idiot, an asshole, even a jerk at times but what everyone always seems to agree on is that Flash Thompson is no player.

"You could always invite her as a friend," I loudly blur out after an awkward pause.

Flash frowns.

"You ask her to be your date and you precise it's as friends," I precise my thought.

"I guess I could try but what if she says no?"

"Well, best case scenario she says yes and you do have a friend. Or worst case scenario, she does pity you and says yes allowing you to hang out with her and convince her to see you as more than that."

He stays silent staring out into the void before snatching his phone out of his pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm calling her right now before I chicken out."

Oh shit!

"Wow! Hey there how about we think about it before we make any rash decision," I say standing up from the bench in a hurry.

"What do you mean? you just told me to ask her."

"Listen," I panic and rack my brain for any last-second plan, "Here's what I propose. You walk back home and think about what you're gonna say to her on the way there, and then you call her once you get there."

He pauses, "Yeah okay, that makes sense."

A buzz startles me and reminds me of my curfew.

Trying to stay calm I hurriedly try to bid my goodbyes.

"O-Okay well, I got to go. Hope it works out for you!" I say carefully stepping backward, "As for me I'm expected somewhere so I'm gonna head there!"

"Oh yeah for sure. That's crazy man, I've always wanted to meet you, and now that it's the case you've just helped me!"

He looks back down at his phone's contact and slowly takes a few steps back nodding to me as a goodbye.

"You know what they say. I'm just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, emotionally and physically!" I shout jogging back.

When I'm sure he's far enough, I leap into the air and swing away.

"Wait! Can we take a picture-?!" his demand fades as I shoot my next web.

Answering the phone I reassure May I'm on my way and get a few more calls from Flash that I cannot answer.

The last swing sends me to my bedroom window with a thud as I slide the glass panel up and throw my phone in first before climbing inside in a hurry as my cell buzzes again.

"Is that you?!"

"Yeah, I'm home!" I say sliding my mask off before trying to unzip my suit as I stomp around attempting to slip out of the gear.

Jumping on one foot I try to snatch the blue and red material off my feet and trip falling on the cool wooded floor.

"What was that?"

May's panicked tone and the incessant buzz coming from my phone is overwhelming.

Out of breath and my head still on the floor, I raise my hand and blindly pat around my covers before they brush against the device.

I sit myself up with a grunt and bring the phone to my ear.

"Hi!" I say enthusiast and breathless.

"Hi," he answers back abruptly.

"Everything okay?" I ask dipping my elbow amongst my blanket and burying my hand in my hair to ground it.

"Yeah!" he says back quickly with a lighter tone, "Sorry I just thought I would end up leaving a voicemail and now I just don't remember what it is that I wanted to say," he awkwardly confesses.

"Oh yeah sorry about that I was taking a shower," I skillfully lie.

"You often run out of breath after a shower?"

"No! it's just, I left my phone in my room and I heard it in the shower and started panicking the third time it rang I thought something horrible happened," I spew out.

I'm getting really good at this.

"Oh crap, my bad I didn't think it would-" he sighs, "Of course you would think that, I shouldn't have called at this hour I'm sorry I didn't think."

"No! Really it's nothing. What did you call about?"

Silence on the other line. I let it run until I start thinking he must've hung up and asks if he's still there.

"Yeah um, okay so here I go. There's this charity event that happens like every year and it's kind of badly seen to go alone."

My heart speeds up and hammers against my ribcage. It feels like my blood skyrockets through my body leaving an ice-cold feeling behind that gives me chills. This feeling gets stuck in my throat making me believe I'm struggling to breathe.

"And you'd like me to be your plus one?" I attempt to finish the sentence for him.

"Not like a date or anything like that! More like as…friends?" he ends his sentence with hesitation.

Leave the blood impression right now it feels like I was punched in the guts as the air escapes my lungs in a swift.

"Friends?" I repeat meekly to make sure he is comfortable with the term.

"Yeah if you're up to it?" he asks anxiously in return.

I feel frozen for a moment before my eyes are drawn to my wardrobe.

"Yeah of course. I'd love to go with you," I say putting my phone on speaker before laying it down on my bed.

Standing up with a grunt and newfound confidence, I skip to my closet and push stuff back and forth.

"So what type of event is it exactly?"

"Well, it's a charity but it's a charity on the Upper East Side so…there's going to be a lot of snobby people," he says with an awkward chuckle, avoiding talking about our apparent new friendship.

"So," I draw out, "Dressed up."

"Yup," he confirms.

I sigh pushing a few hangers back, "Well I don't think they'd be much impressed with me," I chuckle embarrassed, "When is the event exactly? Maybe I could go grab something that won't cause a public humiliation," I chuckle throwing yet another hanger back with a huge cling.

"That's where you hate me," he says with a pained voice.

Frowning I look at my phone still lying on my bed.

"The event is tomorrow."

My eyes bulge. I don't feel angry, I'm more surprised than anything else.

"Oh, so that really was a last-minute decision to invite me," I try to say light-heartedly.

'Actually, I already know who I want to invite.'

"It wasn't," he replies softly.

I'm getting better at making him open up. A fact that makes me smile, but I realize that I can't push my luck at the risk of going too far and having him close back up in a blink.

Trying to brush off his confession I decide to joke.

"You know Flash, when people invite you to events they tell you days beforehand," I laugh, "Now I don't even have anything worth wearing to your fancy charity!"

"I'm sorry."

"No I'm not mad it's just-I don't want to walk in with a summer dress on," I chuckle trying to reassure him, "And it takes more than a few hours of shopping to find a dress that looks expensive but is not."

"You don't own a black dress?" he asks confused.

"No."

"Not to generalize but I'm ready to bet every girl owns at least one plain black dress."

"I mean I do but it doesn't fit me anymore," I say putting the black dress at least three times too small against my much-grown self.

After a few moments of silence, I start thinking the invitation is gonna be retracted.

"I might have a solution."

"What is it?"

"Can't tell you."

"And why is that?" I frown trying to conceal my offense with a teasing tone.

"Can't tell you either."

"I'm not liking this."

The other line stays silent for a moment.

"Does that mean you don't want to come anymore?"

"No, that's not what I said," I clear up.

"Good, I'll take care of it, and thank you again. Would you like me to pick you up? Tomorrow I mean."

"Oh no, thank you but I'm sure I can find my way around."

"Okay," I wouldn't bet on it but I think I hear the hint of a smile in his words.

"Hum, when does it start? When do I have to arrive exactly?"

"Oh well you know, there is no designated time but people generally arrive later and leave earlier so no pressure."

"Okay so let's say around 9 PM? How does that sound?"

"Awesome."

"Cool," I smile.

I look around my room sheepishly waiting for a goodbye or any other signs he would like to continue the conversation.

Walking to my bed I spin around and let my ankle bump into my bed's rail letting myself fall back on my covers.

"Cool," he repeats.

"Cool," I reiterate chuckling.

"Thanks again, really."

"It's no big deal I'm sure I'm gonna have fun anyways," I say with a smile.

"Well you know it's a charity event so people are gonna do a LOT of talking."

"Why are you making it sound bad," I chuckle.

"I wouldn't say bad, I'd say boring," he says nonchalantly.

"I think I can handle boring for a night."

"I'll take you on that one," he says almost as a challenge.

My door creaks open and May's frown makes my smile drop.

"Hum I'm sorry but I have to go, see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

"Bye."

When the line goes silent I awkwardly sit up waiting for a scolding or a rant or anything else.

"So?" she asks with her brows raised.

I know she's waiting for an explanation but the news is too important, "I might've been invited to an event tomorrow."

The warmth is too much and in the heat, I throw my cover to the side with the help of my feet to turn around and try to go back to sleep in my haze.

Having opened my blinds and window during the heated night to let in the fresh breeze, the sunlight shines through and highlights my cluttered mess of a bedroom.

The usual New York rumble is accompanied by a merry voice.

"Wakey wakey night owl!"

"May," I whine sleepily, "It's the last days of summer, can't you let me oversleep?"

"Nope because you have a package and I've been trying to guess what's in it for about twenty minutes now."

"Huh?" I say with a hoarse voice.

"Come on, stand up!"

"I don't remember buying anything," I try to reason.

"And I don't remember buying anything either so come on up, up!" she says jumping up and down.

Sliding off my bed a box is thrown onto it. A huge white rectangular box closed and flattered by a black bow wrapped around it like a Christmas present.

I groan.

"I know what it is."

"What?"

"I have nothing to wear for the charity and Flash proposed to help but I thought it would just be a quick drop off not…that," I say with a gesture to the box.

"How nice."

"I guess but I'm uncomfortable getting a dress from him. If it wasn't so last minute I would've bought one for myself but-"

"Didn't you say it was a fancy event?"

"Yeah?" I answer not getting her point.

"Rich people smell a fraud it's better if he's the one dressing you up for tonight."

"Dressing me," I bark a laugh, "Flash would not dress me, maybe his mom helped or-"

I'm cut off by the phone going off in the other room.

As May walks out to reach it I admire the simplicity yet classiness of the box. I smile as I fidget with the bow before tugging on it and letting it loose.

Half-listening to May's phone call I push off the ribbon and lift the lid.

"Holy fuck!"

I throw the lid back on top of the box the corner not fitting back properly and let it slide aside.

"I'll call you right back-what?! What happened?!" May says in a hurry with the phone still glued to her ear.

I face her with my back turned away from my bed where the dress is sitting, "I can't wear that."

"Can't wear what?" she asks walking to my bed and opening the box back.

"Oh wow."

"I know."

"This is gorgeous."

"I know, I can't wear that."

"Wait-why not?"

“It’s too much. It’s the kind of dress you wear to attract attention, not just to walk around at a charity event,” I spit out at full speed as May puts the phone back to her ear and asks the person who is on the other line and who has not bothered to hang up to come forward and open the front door which is not locked.

"I think you're overreacting a little bit. It's just a pretty dress."

Listening to her I gather up the courage to turn back around and have another look at the black glittery dress.

"It's too much! He told me it's an event full of snobby rich people and you know what's gonna happen if I wear this around snobby rich people?"

May straightens up and takes a posh accent, "What a promiscuous little lady you are," she scolds before laughing.

"I'm serious!" I whine taking the dress out of the box.

The dress's length reaches the ground and the long sleeves hang loose. As the front of the dress faces Aunt May, the back view horrifies me.

I choke on my gasp and swiftly turn the dress around.

At the view of the open back of the dress May's eyes match mine as they widen like sausages.

"Oh wow now that's promiscuous," she says with no accent or tease this time.

"What was he thinking?!"

"Nothing. I doubt Flash handpicked this dress himself," she speculates feeling the fabric of the dress.

Her observation is followed by the front door shutting and a voice calling out to May.

"We're in here Happy!"

With a frown, I watch as Happy Hogan appears at the threshold of my bedroom.

"What is he doing here?" I question as I point to him with the dress still in my hands.

"Your aunt said you're going out tonight and she didn't want to stay alone so I proposed to stay with her," he says all the while analyzing the dress up and down before pointing to it, "Where did you get that?"

"It's a gift," May explains.

"No! No no no no no, it's temporary, a temporary borrowed and very expensive looking dress."

"Not just looking," Happy informs me.

My body proves that it is in fact possible to get even more tense.

"What do you mean by that exactly?" I ask with a meek voice.

Seeing my distressed face Happy makes eye contact with May, gauging the situation.

"Well I mean," he draws out walking up to me and grabbing the dress raising it to examine the fabric, "It looks like the kind of dress Tony makes me pick up for Pepper so I figured-"

"Oh my god!" I shout throwing the dress back on my bed.

I walk to my nightstand and reach for my phone.

"What are you doing?" May ask.

"I'm canceling," I say hurriedly.

"What? No!" she protests.

Flash's number is already dialed and the phone is placed at my ear as I shoo both of them out of my room.

Hurrying May out I close the door as the fourth dial rings in my ear.

Somehow the sound of his voice allows me to breathe out.

"Hey, what is it?"

"What the fuck Flash!"

The warmth leaves his voice and worry takes its place, "What is it?"

"The dress!"

"What? what's wrong with it, you don't like it?"

"It's too much!" I exclaim.

"Oh crap, I'm sorry."

"What were you thinking?" I said feeling a little guilty knowing he couldn't have guessed that I wouldn't like the dress.

"Hey in my defense I didn't choose the dress."

"Then who did?!"

"Well I wasn't sure so I kinda asked Lea to choose," he hesitates to say.

My brain freezes and a headache is right around the corner, "Wait, isn't she supposed to be on her honeymoon?" I ask pinching my nose and scrunching my eyes closed.

"She was but she's a big part of the charity so she is flying back for tonight and is gonna finish her honeymoon here in New York."

"Oh and so you let her choose a dress for me not thinking that our way of dressing up might be way different?" I ask incredulously.

"You make it sound bad."

"It is Flash!" I shout hyperventilating, "She's a model and this type of dress is made for the runway, not charity, and not on me."

"Wait so the problem is that it doesn't fit?"

"No!" I groan falling back on my bed beside the same dress that is making me break down.

"I'm sorry but I'm having a hard time understanding the problem right now, do you hate the dress is that what it is?"

"No, I don't hate the dress," I say.

It's true I like the dress, it's a pretty dress.

"Have you tried it on?"

I pause and answer 'no' in a tone that says it should be obvious to him that I would never try on a brand-name dress.

"So what's the issue exactly? You don't dislike the dress and you haven't tried it on so you can't complain that it doesn't fit, so what's up?"

"It's not a normal dress," I explain as a matter of fact.

"A normal dress?" I can hear the tease in his tone.

"Yes, a normal dress." I reiterate.

"And what is a normal dress exactly?"

"A dress that doesn't look like it was made in a studio in a fancy part of Beverly Hills!"

"Okay, I understand, Lea has a particular style."

"And Lea knows how to walk around with people's eyes on her!" I shout convinced that he now understands my point of view, "I just-" I sigh, "I don't want to walk in there and have people looking at me and judging me, especially rich snobby people."

"Oh if that's what scares you I can reassure you right now and tell you that no one will pay you any attention."

"You haven't seen the dress," I say as a matter of fact.

"No, but I can tell you that standing beside me as my da-my plus one, everyone will obviously be too busy admiring me to be paying you any mind."

I snort and try to muffle the noise by cupping my mouth but the unflattering cackle reaches the other end of the phone.

I know he's reassured now that I laughed but it doesn't erase my worry.

I calm down and weigh my request before verbalizing it.

"Could you drive me to the event?" I decided to just come out with it hoping for the best.

"What happened to taking the bus?" He asks genuinely.

"Again, you haven't seen the dress and I'd rather not travel around Queens dressed to the nines. I just want to be safe, you know?"

I know that my safety isn't at risk but dressed like that, a judging stare would be as dreadful as a wandering hand.

I can't hear him but I'm certain he nods agreeing with me.

"Well, it would be an honor to be your knight in shining armor for the night knowing you're actually my savior," he jokes, "But sadly there isn't any carriage available so we will have to settle for my car, I hope that's alright."

"Oh what a shame, I expected nothing less than the fanciest vehicle," I chuckle.

"Sorry Cinderella but fairy godmother only managed to get the dress."

"And I still wonder how she managed to do that," I say turning on my side and feeling the fabric.

"That's a secret…Try the dress on and call me back to tell me how it fits. Or better yet text me, It's kind of crazy around here today."

It is only now that I realize there is noise around him, a lot of noise and that makes me gather that he must already be over there helping to set everything up and I'm here having a meltdown and calling him having a tantrum about a dress.

"I'm so sorry I didn't, I mean if I knew you were busy I would've-"

"No no, it's alright really-" He tries to chime in.

"No I mean you're probably busy, I can't believe I didn't think of that-" I ramble before he cuts me off.

"No really, you're a life-savor Parker. Those events are old-fashioned and you're like forced to have someone with you and I really didn't want to spend my entire night answering the same question over and over again-"

It's his turn to ramble and I find myself listening on liking the idea of him opening up to me.

It is not every day that I get to listen to Flash Thompson ramble, let alone to me.

"It's annoying when people crowd you and ask why you don't have a date with you and they end up dissecting what must be wrong with you to not have a girl on your arm."

"Sounds annoying."

"It is. Sometimes I manage to avoid that kind of event but for this one my family is in charge so," He finishes dragging his word.

"You are forced to participate."

He confirms and gets interrupted by another voice. I frown trying to listen and make up a bit of the conversation going on before he comes back to the line with a sigh.

"I'm sorry it's a bit crazy right now. My mom always goes nuts the day of these events," he says as I can hear Mme.Thompson shouting in the back.

"Okay, that's my cue. Try the dress on and text me okay?"

"Sure," I say with a smile.

"Bye," he says along with another sentence that I cannot decipher, presumably aimed at someone else before the line dies and I'm left lying on my bed retracing the conversation.

I look at the dress once more. The sparkles look more and more inviting instead of revolting and I stand back up fixing myself before I open the door to face both May and Happy.

Making awkward eye contact I see that they are half bent toward my door before they stand straight up and cough to ease the tension.

After a moment of silence where my gaze is enough judgment, I speak up and ask for help.

"Can you help me do my hair?"

Meddling with the final strand of my hair May stands back to admire her work as I add the final touch to my makeup applying the red lipstick with precision.

Closing the cap I stand up and have an overall look at myself as May squeals and hands me my jacket. She asks a few more questions when I head to the door and check if I have everything I need placed in the pouch she lent me for the night.

My brain barely has time to register the questions before I hum and give a half-assed answer as I put my jacket on and try to exit the apartment.

I turn around to hear her give me rule after rule for the night.

"Flash drives you to the event, you stay at this event," she points out referring to the birthday incident where the only reason I wasn't grounded was the fact that my exit saved me from a potential wound from the blowout of fireworks.

"You have your fun and you come home at 1 AM. Not 2, not 3, 1 AM, got it?"

I nod.

"And Flash drives you back, no one else, Flash."

"Yes," I say a bit exasperated.

"And you stay glued to him all night."

"Yes, Aunt May I promise! Can I go now he's waiting for me outside," I lie.

He's not waiting for me outside, as a matter of fact I haven't even sent him a message informing him I'm ready for him to pick me up.

"Okay be careful-And text me both when you arrive and when you're coming home."

I nod at her as I walk backward to the elevator and watch as she smiles before closing the apartment door. I huff loudly and turn around to look down to my phone texting Flash that I'm ready and will be waiting for him outside.

It's when I'm halfway down the elevator that my phone rings.

"Yes?"

"Hey, I just got your text and huh," he draws out.

I don't answer and just let him bask in the silence of the line.

"I'm sorry things were crazy. I'm just now getting ready."

"Wait you're getting ready?! Then when are you coming to pick me up?" I ask walking out of the elevator and pushing the door of the apartment building open letting the New York ambiance bask me in its hurriedness.

The breeze reaches me and I rub my arm getting used to the weather slipping up the back of my jacket and biting at my open back when I notice a…no way.

"Flash what did you do?"

"What-what do you mean what did I do?" he stutters.

"I mean why is there a guy looking at me waiting by a car that looks like it's worth more than the neighborhood," my question is more of a statement.

I hear him curse under his breath.

"I'm really sorry. She told me she would be subtle."

"Who?" I ask taking my eyes off the supposed driver.

"My mom. I told her I had to come to get you but she still needed me around so I insisted and even said I'd call you to push back our meeting but she said it would be disrespectful and that she would send someone."

I stay silent processing all of it.

"I'm sorry I wanted to call and tell you but I just got to my room."

I look back up to the driver and make eye contact before we exchange hasty smiles.

I sigh thinking of this all over walking down the stairs one by one slowly.

"Okay, I guess it wasn't really in your power. But you better be here when I arrive I will not show up and walk around alone." I say firmly.

"Of course," he says in all seriousness.

Telling him I'll see him soon, I hang up and focus my gaze on the driver as I approach him.

"Miss Parker?"

I nod before confirming my identity verbally.

He then motions to the car before opening the door and gesturing for me to step in.

When it clicks shut I am left with the silence of the empty vehicle.

As the buildings go by and I get closer to the venue my stress level rises and I start fidgeting and falling into a cycle of grabbing my phone, second-guessing texting Flash, and then abandoning the idea and letting my body fill up with more anxiety.

The arrival doesn't stop that nagging feeling that causes goosebumps to rush down my spine, that or the wind nipping at my back through my coat.

Walking up the stairs my nerves run wild through my body as my legs shake walking up the stairs.

Reaching the top, I make eye contact with a man standing in front of the doors. Approaching him carefully, I struggle to find my voice and I am cut off in my stutter as he guesses my last name.

Confused, I confirm his guess and my frown must ring a bell for him as he turns to the door, "I was informed that one of Mme.Thompson's guests would arrive alone and I'm guessing it's you," he says as he buzzes me in.

I nod to him as a thank you and continue to walk ahead this time on a soft and long red carpet instead of stone.

The voices, which were mere mumbles turn into booming voices coming from every corner of the room and my coat is starting to make me sweat reminding me that I'll have to discard it soon.

The thought makes me sweat even more.

Like fate, my eyes scan my surroundings and immediately fall on him standing in front of the counter right beside Lea.

He's fidgety and I see Lea receiving a glass of alcohol before making eye contact with me as she nods in my direction.

I feel hands on my shoulders and jolt stepping aside to see who touched me. I see a man who stumbles back apologizing and realize he is trying to gather my coat to let me join the crowd and a cold sweat replaces the regular sweat.

As the fabric leaves my shoulder my voice stays stuck in my throat and instead, a small squeak manages to slither out.

Still looking for my voice, I turn to him walking away with my coat.

I'm left standing there helpless.

When I see the man disappear I turn back to my previous position to look back at Flash when I see him getting hit behind the head and scolded by Lea. I also notice the glass now empty on the counter as I hear his voice more distinctly dismissing Lea with a 'Whatever' as he rushes to my side.

"He took my jacket," I husher panicked but still trying to be subtle.

"I'm sorry," he says sincerely taking off his jacket.

"I feel naked," I whisper.

"I'm so sorry," he reiters putting his jacket on my shoulders before ushering me to walk ahead leading us towards Lea at the bar.

His hand is placed on my back flaring shiver with the new sensation of his hand on my back, or maybe it is just the fresh jacket on me?

My brain focuses back and sets on Lea greeting me.

With her asking how I've been I let my hand play with the jacket and nod along with the conversation. Flash himself messes with the blazer by first securing it over my shoulder and then playing with the sleeves that hang loosely.

When my mind stops fixating on him, I blink in surprise when my ears register an apology coming from Lea about the dress. I try to protest and instead thank her for the last-minute save when Flash's mother appears to join and inform us that we need to scatter around.

I stand clueless for a moment before I feel his hand on my back gently pushing me to walk alongside him.

Led around once more I decide to stop being dragged around like a clueless puppet and tug the hand placed on my back to entertwine our arms and walk together instead of letting him direct me around.

I don't talk much. I mostly nod and answer small questions here and there.

The evening runs along pretty smoothly as each interaction the two of us have only lasts few minutes before Flash skillfully finds a way to bid our goodbyes and walk us to yet another couple beckoning us over.

"Oh no."

"What is it?" I ask him trying to glance in the direction he was looking at to see an older lady standing there motioning us to join her.

"That's Garret's grandmother."

"And she's a mean old lady," I deduct.

"No worse, she's a passive-aggressive bitch."

I'm taken aback by his name-calling and look back at the woman waiting impatiently for us.

"I think she's waiting for us," I suggest.

"Okay, don't talk and stay close to me," he instructs.

"You mean like I've been doing for the past hour and a half?"

My teasing provokes a smile to appear on his face for a moment but it quickly disappears when his head turns back to the lady as he walks us toward her.

I hug his arm getting closer to him as he uses his opposite hand and brings it to our linked arms as a sort of comfort I'm guessing.

"Eugene," she beckons us over with a honeyed voice.

Her mask falls for a moment and I can see a glimpse of irritation before, like any other influential figure, she morphs her face into a more pleased expression.

"Madam Pennington," Flash says with an edge.

I first think that his tone might've been hesitation, but that changes when the woman gets that sour look back on her face and I realize his tone is subtly bitter.

Without trying, my brain does the math in a matter of seconds and I realize that if Flash refers to her with another last name than Garret's it must mean she is divorced.

She makes eye contact with me as my face must've shown that I figured Flash's comment out and her burning stare drives me to get closer to him for protection.

He clears his throat driving her murderous stare back to him as I abandon the idea of nodding along to their conversation and instead subtly look around the room.

The buffet, the people, anything other than the two of them.

"My grandson seems to be upset. When I tried talking to him about it he refused to speak but I did overhear that you two fought over a girl," she ends her sentence looking at me up and down.

"And by overhear you mean that you snooped around against your grandson's wish," his argument is aimed not only at defending himself but McCoy's privacy as well which surprises me.

"Excuse you?"

Her voice getting louder I notice McCoy himself standing just a few feet away from us looking at his grandmother about to blow a fuse and I decide to diffuse the tension.

"I believe your grandson is looking for you," I say nodding toward him standing there frozen, "And Flash your mother is looking for us over there."

Pushing him into motion I look back to see Garret approaching his grandmother but decide to not dwell on the talk they're about to have.

"Are you okay?" I ask as we hurry away from them.

He doesn't answer and just nods with a hum. He does however ask where his mother is and that's when I frown.

"You know I made it up so we could flee the conflict, right?"

He stops in his tracks before turning to me and I can see the gears turning in his head.

"Oh, yeah."

We keep eye contact and it must take a toll on him because he then avoids my stare and decides to look forward, all stiff.

I'm guessing the only reason he doesn't flee is the fact that our arms are still tangled together but I don't want to let go.

Maybe it's selfish but since the last time we talked, or more precisely the last we talked and I was not in gear, he ran away and ghosted me.

I want an explanation.

"This place is beautiful," I say looking around at the structure trying to pry a conversation out of him.

"I have something to tell you."

His tone is particular and I can't make out if he's hopeful or desperate.

My own tone embarrasses me as I egg him on full of anticipation.

"There's this type of dance and-" he cuts himself off and stares behind us.

Turning around, I spot McCoy staring right back at him.

"Not again," I hear him say under his breath.

I want to ask him if he's gonna be okay or if he'd like me to stay with him to talk to Garret but he shakes my hands off his arm and grabs it before taking off in the direction of the stairs.

"Come on follow me."

I can only let out a small squeal of surprise before catching up with his footing as the previous noisy venu dies down when we reach the second floor.

Once up there he doesn't stop and continues to sprint down the hall before taking a turn and tugging me to a corner away from McCoy.

My back is placed against the wall and I rearrange the jacket on my shoulders as I see Flash look around the corner to see if Garret is following us.

I suppose he gave up the idea as Flash visibly relaxes and turns back to me.

The proximity reminds me of that night at the laser game and the sudden look on his face tells me he must reminisce as well.

He knows that I know what we're both thinking about because we avoid eye contact and I let my eyes bounce between the multiple decors as a decoy.

"This place is beautiful. I wonder what it would feel to go to sleep in a place like that," I try to deflect from the tension.

"It's like any other place, you go to bed and you fall asleep," he brushes off trying to avoid the tension as well.

The simple statement makes me turn back to him and make eye contact as the realization slowly sets in.

"No."

"No, what?" he frowns.

"You slept here before?" my question sounds more like a statement.

"Yeah."

"But you live like 20 minutes away."

"Oh so now you know where I live Parker?"

My eyes widen at his insinuation.

I'm not a stalker!

"Well after you pointed out that I didn't know where you lived I was curious. If anything you're the one who told me I should know where you lived."

"Yeah and by that I meant coming over not googling my address."

"I did not Google your address!" I lie, "You're making me look bad!"

My restlessness makes him laugh.

Still chuckling he points ahead silently asking me to follow him.

"It's more of a tradition. My mom wants us to stay and sleep here every year," he says walking peacefully beside me.

It's a change compared to his erratic running just a few minutes ago.

"So you also slept at the fairytale mansion?"

"Fairytale mansion?"

"Yeah, the one where Lea got married."

Confused, it takes him a few seconds before his frown disappears and his mouth opens with an 'Oh'.

"Yeah," he simply says opening a door as I stand here frozen.

I know he probably wants me to enter but I'm confused and look at him waiting for an explanation.

He doesn't answer and instead walks inside reaching the other side of the bed to retrieve something.

With hesitation, I take a cautious step in looking around as if the room is full of boobie traps when I hear a dull thump and look back to see him throwing a gym bag on the queen-sized bed.

It must be the glamour of the night inhibiting my ability to be logical at times because it takes me a few seconds before my confusion turns into curiosity.

"Is that your bag?"

"No, I just love going through other people's stuff."

I don't answer or laugh and just raise my brows.

"Yes Parker, It's my bag."

I relax and close the door behind me before walking toward the bed warily and sitting down softly as the mattress sinks under me.

"I thought if I have to run away from Garret, why not pause before going back out there?" he explains throwing a book on the bed covers.

He dives back into his bag as I grab the book.

"Hey, I know that book!" I note joyfully.

I see him stop scrambling through his bag and look back up at me.

"Really?" he hesitates.

"Yeah I talked about it with Susan on your birthday. Usually, she's not into these kind of books but she's been watching a show similar to it so I mentioned it to her."

When he doesn't answer and doesn't make a move to dive back into his bag, another question comes troubling me.

"By the way, how did you hear about this book?"

"Oh um, someone told me about it," he says fumbling with the clothes inside the bag.

"Really? Who?" I ask knowing this isn't his type of book.

He doesn't answer and I assume it must be Garret who told him about the book and he simply doesn't wanna talk about him.

"You know as much as I don't like Garret, he's been your friend for years," I tip-toe around the issue and remember that he must not know about the video I saw where he's going off on McCoy and his clique.

"And?"

"And. With such a great taste in books, how could you not forgive him?" I try to turn the tension into something lighter with a chuckle gesturing to the book.

His frown turns into surprise, "Oh yeah, yeah! It's Garret who told me about it a few weeks ago."

"I never thought Garret would be the kind of guy who reads outside of school," I try to say without sounding mean.

A flash of red in my peripheral vision attracts my attention to turn away from the papercover and fills me with excitement when I recognize the sight.

"You brought him!" I say gripping the plushy and letting the book fall back on the covers.

He seems satisfied with my reaction and tugs his bag to fall back down before he too takes a seat beside me.

I lean down with my feet dangling as my back makes contact with the lavish bedding.

I take a look over at the Spiderman plushy wondering if in the small period of time any harm came his way. My detective work comes out dry as the plush doesn't seem to have been put under any distress when I hear him lay down as well.

I turn my gaze to him ready to make another joke and congratulate him on the plush's wellbeing when I see him already looking back at me and lose my smile as the memories flash back.

The muffled music, the way his curls were laying on his bed. He's been growing them out.

I like his hair long.

I like his lips too.

The calmness I feel is cut short when the bedroom door swings open and the sound of heels thud on the carpeted ground.

I raise up in my seat in a rush and grip the plushy hard against my chest in a panic as if I had just been caught having sex.

"Jee! Ever heard of knocking?!" he shouts sitting up after me.

"Coming from you?" Lea says looking up and down at him with an incredulous expression.

He sighs. I don't know if it comes from annoyance or relief from the previous scene.

"I've been looking for you two, your mother sent me to get you, come on now it's about to start," she says turning back on her heels and pulling the door behind her to leave it half closed waiting for us to join her.

"What's about to start?" I wonder looking at him after admiring her walk away.

The face I find makes mine fall. The paleness and distress plastered on his face makes me feel like I'm about to be the butt of the joke.

His blank stare angers me and figuring out I won't get any explanation from him I jump on my feet straightening the jacket on my shoulder to run after her.

Any other day it would've been to get an autograph but right now my only hope is to get reassured that all of it is just a huge misunderstanding.

Surely 'It's about to start' cannot be that bad? Maybe just a toast, or a speech?

"What's about to start?" I say trying to catch up to her but my question goes unanswered when we reach the top of the stairs and I see the Thompson matriarch taking the venue by storm as she speaks up in the middle of the stairs with her voice reasoning through the immense space.

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

I hear her call out before my arm is engulfed and my gaze is redirected to him.

"I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you really, but I kept being interrupted and then there was Garret and then we had a moment of calm and we started to talk and-"

"This evening has been fulfilling and I enjoy each and every one of your presence-"

My ears cannot keep up in between the two speeches. I'm even more overwhelmed when I realize that Lea has left us at the top of the split stairs, walked beside Aliyah, and joined her newlywed husband down the stairs.

"The time has come, and I know you enjoy it as much as I do," she says with a cheeky smile and a look of knowledge across the room sending the surroundings into a fit of chuckles.

"So now. I invite you to take your partner by the arm, and let's join each other in the other room so the waltz can take place."

The end of her speech sends a cold sweat down my back and I turn back to him unable to scream.

I'm speechless and incapable of voicing my anger and frustration.

The words want to come out but my brain is mushing together my two arguments, the one where I tear him a new one for not warning me or the one where I yell that I don't know how to dance.

Why didn't he think of inviting someone who knows how to dance?!

"A waltz?! I don't even know how to dance!" I say loudly enough to share my panic and frustration without attracting any looks.

His newest excuse gets cut off by his mother reaching us at the top of the stairs, " What are you two still doing here, come on chop chop," she finishes clapping her hands to drive us to hurry downstairs.

Another gasp fights its way into my lungs when I realize I'm about to disappoint her as well.

It's only logical for her son to dance in an event she organized.

I'm standing here looking like an idiot with my mouth wide open when my own voice surprises me, "I don't know how to dance!" I say point-blank.

"Of course you do! You went to the same elementary school and I distinctly remember your grade took ball lessons," she says proudly.

The new information confuses me and I doubt the woman's memory.

Maybe she's confusing me with another girl.

Not knowing how to question her or flatly deny her version of the event, I start to babble as I notice Lea walking back up the stairs with her arm under her husband's.

"No-I. I don't. I mean-I never," I ramble, any argument dying on my tongue leaving me a stuttering mess.

I don't know how to word my sentence when my eyes notice Flash's face getting sour the more his mother insists.

"Mom she said she doesn't want to," he says dryly.

I don't know if it's out of annoyance or out of shame but both possibilities are taking a toll on me and I feel the tears coming alongside the lack of oxygen.

"Well, what do you propose we do? Your father isn't here so I can't dance and one of us needs to!"

"We've been hosting this event every year for 5 years now I think we can sit this one out," he says somewhat confidently.

"I would've liked a bit of a heads up Eugene," Aliyah scolds him through her teeth.

Yeah, me too.

"They're waiting for us. Flash come on, come dance with me," Lea says extending her hand to him and taking a look at her proposal I see Mme.Thompson's bulb light up atop her head.

"You didn't even tell her there would be a dance?!" Her accusation seems rhetorical as the deep frown on her face doesn't seem ready to welcome any excuses.

He scrunches his eyes close and rubs them but doesn't answer and opens them back up to look at me.

I see regret and wonder if he regrets inviting me. A ball clogs my throat and I try to stay as stone-faced as possible instead of making a scene by dropping on the stairs and starting to ball like a baby.

He breathes in before following Lea's lead and I stop him. Placing my hand on his chest, I then shrug off the jacket he gave me and hand it back to him, my subconscious somehow realizing he would need it to look put together.

He walks down the stairs as his mother softly takes my arm under hers.

"I'm sorry, I would think my son would have the decency to tell you about this," she sighs as we walk down the stairs.

"But then again I should have known better with how different he's been acting lately."

I didn't intend to answer but that last bit of rant resonates with me and the wave of embarrassment and sadness I feel take a step back to leave place to my curiosity.

"Yeah I think Lea made a comment about it," I say looking at his back.

He suddenly turns his head around and looks at me following him before he turns back around and walks ahead taking his place with Lea in the middle of the room with the others.

Mme.Thompson stops us to stand around the crowd around the room and leave enough space for the others to dance in the middle of it.

Taking her attention away from me, she nods away seemingly to someone before music starts resounding in the area.

"I shouldn't burden you with that," she says with a warm smile while she rubs my arm in comfort.

"Oh no it doesn't burden me. I just hope he gets better."

My well wishes widen her smile.

"I'm glad he has you to hang out with," she says warmly.

"You're a good influence on him. and I can only hope you two stay close, it's not every day my son doesn't complain about this event."

"Yes, he told me about that. He was very thankful for saving him from those stares about him not having a date," I remember our conversation.

"Stares? Why would anyone stare at him fo not having a date?"

I frown, "You know. The rule about having a date for this charity in fear of being the talk of the night," I say trying to nudge her to remember.

"There was never such a rule. Who told you that? Eugene? Léa?"

I'm left speechless and with my mouth hanging open as the frown orning my face doesn't subside.

Her own frown is quickly replaced by a smile before she abruptly apologizes when a woman motions her over.

The loss of her arm is like a warm blanket has been ripped away making me notice the stares I was previously blind to.

A couple stares at me while another switches their stare back and forth between me and Flash, probably wondering why his date is not the one in his arms.

I look at him and see he's arguing with Léa while they waltz around and the sight would impress me if I wasn't confused as to why they look like they're ready to bite at each other's throat.

Another peep and I see that same man watching me with a nasty look before not-so-subtly whispering to his wife who makes eye contact with me before she answers him with a snarky smile.

I look around trying to convince myself I'm being tricked by my own paranoia when I start hearing my own intakes of breath and know it's a sign that it's all getting too much.

In my panic and without Ms.Thompson around to take my mind off things, I search for his face and find him already looking at me.

The panic sets in my chest and I know I need to step out for fresh air but I hesitate to do so in worry of the scene looking bad to the public.

Feeling the meltdown creeping up closer and closer, I look around and notice an arch under the stairs leading to a hallway and remember seeing multiple people passing through during the night and I conclude it must be the path towards a bathroom.

Sending a tense smile his way, I turn around to walk away.

Getting closer to my goal I step aside to let someone exit before walking in and locking the bathroom door behind me.

With the door shutting off most other noise from outside, I stand in front of the mirror and take a deep breath filling my lungs and trying to shake my head off those thoughts before hanging my head down and blowing out.

I raise my head and look at myself in the mirror to see the tears pricking my eyes and silently scold myself before reaching for a towel and trying my best to chase away the tears without messing up my mascara.

Another breath in and I take in my appearance one more time giving myself a pep talk before straightening my dress and deciding to go back out there before anyone starts to whisper about a possible date on the run.

I wouldn't want him to be surrounded.

Or maybe he'd like me to go.

I remember his face, the one he had on those damn stairs where I wondered why I accepted his invitation and why I let myself believe it could be that easy.

I violently shake my head off those thoughts and unlock the door ready to indulge the rest of this night before cutting all contact with Flash Thompson as I hear the distant music flooding back in my ears.

Lost in my thoughts I run straight into someone.

"I'm so sorry I-" My automatic response is cut short when I recognize him and the words get stuck in my throat.

"Hi," he blurs out.

I can only say hi back coldly as I believe any other response would send me back into the bathroom to place another tissue under my eyes.

"I swear I was gonna tell you."

His voice breaks the silence and when my ears register his words, I can't respond and instead walk around him to the other side of the hallway with my mind fixed on the idea that tonight was a mistake.

"No need to say sorry Flash-" I say nonchalantly, done with this poor decision of mine to accept his invitation.

"But I want to!"

I mess with a bust displayed on a table and let my finger slide on the statue trying to avoid his stare.

"Listen, it's completely my fault and I'm an idiot for not telling you. I was freaking out when I asked you to come here with me and I had my mind set so hard on you telling me you wouldn't come that when you said yes I was taken by surprise and the dance completely slipped off my mind."

I listen on with a frown. I stop messing with the bust and turn around leaning on the table as I look down avoiding his stare.

"My mom was the one who reminded me of it and then you called freaking out about the dress so I focused on that and I forgot again and then you walked in with your dress and then there was Garret's grandma and then Garrett and everything else followed so when there was just the two of us I just couldn't remember. And then Léa came in and you looked so sad and scared and angry I didn't know what to do."

I stand there listening to him spit out everything weighing on him before he suddenly breathes in for the first time and looks at me.

"I'm so sorry. I really am."

His gaze traps me and the remorse drowning his irises drains the anger out of me.

"You also lied about the date rule," I say, my voice barely able to convey any emotion.

I don't even find it in myself to yell at him, any scolding coming to mind being one he already gave himself.

"I'm an idiot and a coward and I completely get it if you never want to talk to me again."

At that I don't even know what to answer.

I did say I'd cut all contact with Flash Thompson after tonight but just a few weeks back I would've also said I'd never talk to him outside of schoolwork.

"Okay," I say after a while of silence trying to set us back in a way we can both be comfortable discussing with each other.

"If we're going on an apology spree I think I should be apologizing as well."

"What could you possibly have to apologize for? I'm the one who invited you last minute, so last minute that you didn't even have anything to wear."

I hear his step closing up on me before I put distance between us and walk back and forth down the hall.

"You invited me here to be your partner and I couldn't even participate in the important part of the night. Then there were the stairs and then people were talking and looking at you and Lea and then at me and it was all just so-"

My apology turns into a ramble and the simple retelling of the event produces that same panic inside of me.

Getting ready to excuse myself to go to the bathroom a second time, I turn around to see him standing right behind me. I can't look at him and instead focus my gaze on the floor trying to breathe properly when I feel his arms gently wrap around me and pull me in for a hug.

My finger messes with the fabric at the back of his jacket as my face is buried in the front of it trying to hide my face and not make eye contact.

I fool myself into thinking if I avoid eye contact with him we will stop talking in circles or better yet stop avoiding each other like the plague.

I also hope this way he won't see me on the verge of crying for the second time tonight.

"If anything," he says using my words as I feel his hand come up to stroke my hair, "I'm the one who should've thought better than to think you would still remember those dance classes," he says in a lighter tone.

I recognize his attempt to lighten up the situation and change the topic.

His comment makes me frown and against the warm feeling blossoming in my chest, I lift my face from the depth of his jacket to look at him.

"Yeah your mom talked about that but I don't think I ever took any dance classes, I think she mistook me for someone else."

His face, previously relaxed, falls and a sympathetic smile appears, "No you did," he says quietly, matching the hushed hallway.

My knitted brows are enough indication for him to continue his explanation.

He exhales through his nose and looks down messing with my hand to avoid making eye contact, "It was back when we were…around six? Seven?"

My confusion only deepens as I'm unable to rack my brain for a memory when I feel him tug on my hand gently drawing me closer to him and my frown turns into a muted gasp.

I don't have time to ask what he is doing when he laces our hands together and asks me in the quietest voice if he can.

It is then I realize he's asking to put his hand on my bare back to, I assume, teach me how to waltz.

I can't find my voice, the situation taking me aback so much so that instead of voicing my consent I decide to instead nod and place his hand myself to reassure him of my agreement.

I did not realize that my back was cold, most likely due to getting used to the lack of coverage but I feel it now as his hand feels hot against it.

My full attention is on him before my eyes are drawn down as I see him taking a step forward driving me to respond and step backward.

The motion has me uncontrollably giggling as my left foot follows his right to step to the side.

"Why exactly are we doing this right now?" I ask with another titter.

"Doing what?"

"Dancing Flash," I laugh, "Waltzing in the hallway."

"Dusting up memories. Proving to you that you do know how to dance or if you're right, to teach you how to waltz to apologize for not telling you there would be a dance."

My previous smile falls and I tilt my head back with a loud sigh.

"I apologized again," he awkwardly notices.

"Yes Flash, stop apologizing," I say looking at him straight in the eyes and raising my brows to emphasize my demand.

"I can't, I feel bad."

I reposition my hand on his shoulder with a light stroke as I squeeze our hands letting us continue swaying gently.

I find myself frustrated at his confession when my brain clears up and suddenly remember our last time together.

He feels bad about not telling me about the dance but he doesn't feel bad about running off the last time we saw each other?!

I remember waiting an entire week for a call or even a text. Jumping to my phone at every notification hoping it was him giving me an explanation for running off on me.

I force myself to brush it off when the feeling of his thumb stroking my back envelops me in a daze I want to hold onto until the night inevitably ends.

"Let's call it even then. You didn't tell me about the dance and I couldn't fulfill my side of the bargain."

"It wasn't a bargain, you just did me a favor."

I can't argue back and decide to look away.

"See, you're doing it."

I look back at him with panic thinking he's going to call me out on my avoidant stare and start a new argument when I see him smile before I notice that he's talking about us dancing and it is then that I look down and realize I'm naturally mirroring his movements.

I laugh impressed at myself before looking back at him as we acknowledge my accomplishment.

Our shared smile diminishes as he stops our dance.

"I didn't invite you because I was desperate," he confesses, "I just really wanted to hang out with you."

I stand there frozen before he gently nudges me sending us back into a soft waltz.

His honesty stuns me and I follow his lead again.

"I think it might be the first time you've been honest with me," It's my turn to confess.

"I don't always lie," he defends himself.

"No, but you never opened up like that before."

I see him trying to avoid eye contact and I silently scold myself as my words seem to drive him away once again.

"I like that," I quickly follow up.

That does it. his eyes raise back to meet mine.

"Why don't you do it more often?"

At that, he seems to hesitate as we gently sway side to side.

"You know friends share their feelings," I remind him of our conversation yesterday where he invited me to come here as a friend.

I can see that the memory rings a bell as he stops our movement once more.

I see his eyes desperate to say something but he's struggling with himself to find the right words as I witness his mouth open and close over and over again.

"See, like riding a bike. It comes back naturally," he manages to say stepping back trying to avoid the subject.

"You're doing it again," I say trying my best to not sound frustrated.

He huffs and slides his hand down his face.

He huff?!

How is he the one pissed off right now?!

I cross my hands taking a harsher stance.

"Okay, you said open so I'm gonna be open," he says fidgeting around.

"If you want us to be friends, you can't expect me to just tell you everything that goes through my head at every moment."

I sigh, "I guess it's fair."

My response appears to relax him.

"But," he interjects, "I guess I could make an effort."

I smile despite myself and look away to try and hide the fact that he turned the situation around once again.

My attempt fails when he looks for my face to catch me smile.

I turn away but he walks around me trying to catch me.

In a last attempt, I hid my face on the verge of laughter.

"Hey wait, you're cheating!" he protests with a chuckle.

I feel his hand on my wrists and yet he doesn't use force to uncover my face.

We stay like this for a moment before I muster the courage to slide my hands away from my eyes and meet his.

He smiles back and that feeling comes again, the one where I feel electricity run through my body.

Like the night he kissed me.

I feel frozen in space like I'm only able to breathe and blink.

He gets closer, so close that our forehead touches and I instinctively close my eyes waiting to feel his lips on mine like that night.

He's so close and yet doesn't make a move to close the distance between us. It makes me groan internally when I remember he's probably waiting for me to make a move.

He's literally two inches away from me and I'm still here what more does he need? for me to swing a flare in the air? Scream at him at the top of my lungs to kiss me?

The tension is suffocating and it's cut short when I feel a breeze of air where I should feel him.

"Thank you, I really wanted to dance with Lea. And don't be mad, I promise, you'll get a dance too," he says cheekily as I stand there completely confused.

He's quick to hold my shoulders and push us to the side. It's when I get my senses back and see a man walk past us to access the bathroom.

I get the answer I'm looking for when I look back at him and see him smile at me.

That's when I have to hold back my laugh with him as the bathroom door closes.

Placing my hand on my mouth, I snort before I see an arm presented to me and look up to see Flash waiting for me.

With the tension now gone I happily hold his arm as he directs us away from the lonely hallway to the booming evening when we cross paths with Mme.Thompson.

"There you are!" she says joyfully.

"I was talking to a few colleagues and they were adamant that I at least ask you to join us."

I open my mouth trying to find the words to politely decline when her son beats me to it.

"No Mom I think it's time for her to go home. Her aunt will kill me if I don't drive her back before 1."

Sharing her chagrin, Mme.Thompson bids me her goodbyes before she shares a look with Flash and tells him to come back as soon as possible telling him he'll be spending time with Garret.

The end of her sentence isn't met with agreement or joy but silence as I'm ushered outside with the cold temperature that doesn't get to reach me before I feel his jacket engulf my shoulders once again.

Another gesture he makes is to offer his hand to help me walk down the stairs of the building. I pause and look down at my heels and conclude like him that it's going to be harder to step down the stairs than it was to climb them.

The thought makes me laugh to myself before I accept his hand and carefully make my way down with another set of giggles.

"I'm never borrowing heels from May ever again," I manage to let out in between giggles.

"Miss Parker forgot to calculate the probability that those heels were gonna be a problem?"

The remark takes me by surprise and makes me stumble.

I crouch to make sure I don't end up face-first on the concrete and my position makes me snort as I hide my face behind my hands and kneel in the middle of the stairs to ground myself.

From any other perspective, I look drunk and I'm being chaperoned by Harrison Thompson's son.

My laugh turns into a fit and I'm left laughing out loud, gripping my aching stomach and praying the feeling doesn't kill me.

"Okay I think I got it, sit down," he says laughing about my situation.

Lost in my euphoria I barely manage to sit up on one of the stairs waiting to see his plan to help me down.

I try to calm myself down when he stands in front of the stairs and places my hands on his shoulders. I finally understand his idea when I'm lifted in the air by my hips and grip his shoulder in a reflex as I'm left gasping when I land on the ground.

I gaze at him and his previous smile falls a bit as he stands there with a blank expression.

I'm almost sure I see his eyes switch to my lips.

"Sorry," he apologizes for his sudden plan to get me down those stairs with a small smile trying his luck at diffusing the tension.

I reassure him before he gently directs me to his car.

The silence is calming and comfortable and I notice I had never been in his car before.

I bask in the comfort, all giddy as I look outside the window admiring the city I love to swing in so much.

He chimes in with small talks here and there and in my new feeling of serenity, I mindlessly make one-word answers.

After a while of admiring the scenery, I look back inside the car when I notice him fidgeting around looking tense.

"Is everything okay?"

"Are you mad?" he asks as his hand tightens up on the steering wheel.

"No, why do you ask?" I return the question fidgeting in my seat to get more comfortable.

"I don't know, you don't talk much. Usually I can't get you to stop talking," he says scratching his face before returning his focus to the road, his side eye gauging my reaction.

I guess the comfortable silence wasn't shared and so I rattle my brain to find a topic we could discuss to fill the apparent discomfort he feels.

Trying to take the attention away from the topic of 'us', I remember the look he and McCoy shared and decide to ask hastily.

"Are you gonna reconcile with Garret?"

"Is that what you're mad about?"

"No Flash, I'm not mad. I'm just trying to make conversation since you seem to think my silence means that I'm angry."

"So you're not mad," he affirms one more time.

"No, I'm not mad."

"Cool," he finishes before he falls himself into silence.

"So? Garret?" I ask after a few beats of silence.

"Let's not talk about Garret."

"Too late, now I'm curious," I say turning on my side to give him my full attention.

"I reminded you how to dance cut me some slack," he whines.

"No," I laugh, "You taught me how to dance. I told you I didn't take dance courses."

His own laugh is short-lived, "Yes, you did."

"When?" I challenge him.

He pauses and takes a deep breath as we reach a red light, "It was during that time you moved to your Aunt May's."

The confession throws a cold in the vehicle.

"Oh," is all that manages to come out of my mouth.

"I remember," he says messing with his steering wheel waiting for the light to turn green, "You looked out of it during that time. It was what? 1st grade? 2nd grade?"

I wish he wouldn't pause in between bombs because the multiple aspects of the current situation make everything point to us being forced to look at each other.

I audibly exhale and wait for anything to come and fill the heavy silence of the car.

I even think about reaching over and turning on the radio.

"Why would we talk about my friendship with Garret?" he tries to distract from the conversation with a new topic.

"Oh, so there IS a friendship," I point out jumping on the occasion to step away from the previous topic, proud we have succeeded in shifting the subject.

In a streak of luck, the light turns green, and new chatter fills the car with a newfound lightness.

He sighs, "I don't know. Would that be a problem?"

"Why do you ask me? I don't manage your friendships."

"I don't know. I thought about just leaving that friendship behind but who knows," he says glancing at me with a teasing glint in his eyes, "If you root for him I could find it in myself to grace McCoy."

I chuckle as I change my position deciding to hug the headrest with my arm to rest my head on it.

"Sounds to me like you're afraid to choose for yourself."

He scoffs and laughs it off, "No, I'm just asking for someone else's opinion. Second opinions are important too."

It's silent as he shifts gears and I realize we're getting closer to my neighborhood.

"I thought about just ghosting him for a while. And with what happened last time, it feels like he's never gonna change," he confesses, "And maybe that's how it's supposed to end between us two."

"Ghosting?"

"Yeah, I don't think a discussion could get us anywhere useful. Garret is not the type of person to apologize anyways."

His demeanor is nonchalant but his expression shows a rare vulnerability.

"Some people just don't grow up," I barely manage to hear him mutter.

I hesitate but the observation kills me.

"That's very wise of you," I notice out loud.

He realizes I must've heard him and chuckles mostly at himself.

"I am wise," he proudly states as he turns the car again.

"That's just something Léa said," he adds.

He notices when I frown, "Believe it or not but my problems with Garret started before his attempt on your life," he jokes as he parks.

With the car now off I place my hand on his shoulder as a silent encouragement, squeezing and smiling at him before letting go of the headrest and looking out the window to see my apartment building.

I don't think much of it and open the car door to slip out of the vehicle.

"You know I'm supposed to be the one that opens the door for you, right?"

I turn my focus away from the building to see him getting out of his car, his head poking up from his car's roof.

He gets closer and stands right beside me at the bottom of the paved stairs.

He faces me and with newfound courage, I try my luck.

"Didn't you say we were going to this event as friends?"

"Opening a car door doesn't mean anything. It just says I have manners."

I hum impressed by his quick answer and see his hand already out for me to take.

Frowning, his smile turns my grimace into a bright smile when I recall the stairs incident.

I chuckle and grip his hand as he leads me up the stairs.

"See," he says as we reach the top of the stairs, "Just a gentleman."

My laugh dies down as we face each other with an awkward silence that I break when I slip his jacket off of my shoulder and hand it back to him.

He grasps it and looks down at it. He seems to hesitate before he looks back up at me clutching the fabric in his hands.

"School starts back tomorrow. See you there?" he asks.

"Yeah," I let out, my voice softer than it should be, "See you there."

I end the night with a kiss on his cheek, taking the risk of letting it last longer than it should.

The silence isn't tense or awkward and I know this time it goes for the both of us as we share a smile and I grip his shoulder squeezing it one last time.

"Good luck with McCoy."

His serene expression turns sour as he scrunchs his eyes shut and rolls his head back.

"You didn't have to bring up McCoy," he whines as I let a quick laugh escape me one last time tonight.

"Good night," I say with a smile, satisfied with how fulfilling this evening has been.

"Good night."

I let go of him and step back towards the door before I have to inevitably turn around and leave him there.

My last view of him is his figure standing right there looking back at me with a charming smile.

I'm not sure but I could swear he grazes his cheek where I kissed him goodbye in-between the smallest gap of the building's door as it shuts close.

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