#He does like the large wheels of cheese that end up coming his way though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kythed · 3 years

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haikyuu!! + where they take you on your first date

yes, i have a soft spot for akaashi, how could you tell?

karasuno

sugawara koushi: one of those clay painting places. he tries to paint your face on a mug-- it ends up looking like a purposefully offensive caricature, but you appreciate the gesture.

azumane asahi: takes you thrifting because he thought it would be aesthetic. the only clothing you two buy is a set of XXL galaxy cat t-shirts.

nishinoya yuu: chuck-e-cheese.

hinata shouyo: an action movie. he won’t stop chattering and making side comments the entire time, but it’s kinda cute. tries to pull the classic yawn-over-the-shoulder move and accidentally spills his popcorn on your lap.

kageyama tobio: invites you to watch one of his volleyball games. it’s not your ideal first date, but the rare smile he flashes you when his team wins makes up for it. he is incredibly sweaty when you go out to eat afterwards, though.

sawamura daichi: a bowling alley. he’s a shit bowler but pretends to be an expert just so he can get close and “teach” you the proper form. he also really likes the overly greasy bowling alley pizza for some reason.

tanaka ryunosuke: italian restaurant. he pronounces gnocchi like “guh-no-chee” and pitches a fit when they don’t offer bottomless breadsticks like olive garden does. before leaving, you slip the poor waitress an extra five for the inconvenience.

yamaguchi tadashi: a butterfly garden. coincidentally finds out he has a deathly phobia of flying insects that same day. you don’t end up staying very long.

tsukishima kei: a natural history museum, but not in a cute way-- you just tail him for three hours while he silently stares at fossils and refuses to hold your hand.

nekoma

kozume kenma: a duck pond near his house. he thought it’d be nice to feed them stale bread, but it turns out there are only very large, very angry geese there. you watch in horror as the largest one chases him around the block.

haiba lev: an amusement park. brags that he never gets sick on roller coasters before vomiting on your favorite sneakers after the first ride. it’s up to you whether or not he gets a second date.

kuroo tetsurou: finesses his way into the country club without paying. you two obnoxiously cannonball into the pool and eat too many free nuts until the concierge chases you out.

yaku morisuke: the skate park. he doesn’t actually know how to skate so he sits on the board and hangs on for dear life while you push him down the ramp as hard as you can. you can honestly say it’s one of the best first dates you’ve ever been on.

inuoka sou: ikea, mostly to purchase matching ikea bucket hats. also forces you to take a picture of him in the kitchen section for flexing purposes.

shiratorizawa

ushijima wakatoshi: a book store. he’s not much of a reader but he thinks the way you open every book just to inhale that new book scent is funny. buys you five hardcovers and refuses to be paid back.

tendou satori: an open house for a multi-million dollar villa. you pretend to be wealthy newlyweds and eat the complimentary charcuterie while chatting up a real estate agent. halfway through the conversation he switches to a british accent and blows your cover.

semi eita: takes you to a ballroom dancing class in the park. all the other students are elderly couples that smile warmly and “aww” when he dips you. he may or may not drop you on purpose at some point.

tsutomu goshiki: the animal shelter. he’s allergic to dogs and has a runny nose the entire time but muscles through because he likes how excited you get to pet them.

shirabu kenjirou: mini-golfing, but he swings like it’s regular golf. ends up launching a ball into one of the little windmills’ blades and breaking it. he subsequently gets banned for life so you win by default.

aoba johsai

oikawa tooru: a cafe. orders straight black coffee to prove his maturity. you can see him grimace with every bitter swallow so you mercifully trade your maple latte.

iwaizumi hajime: the beach. is it just so he can show off his glorious, glorious pecs? maybe. but you’re not complaining.

hanamaki takahiro: costco. you play hide and seek in between the aisles and get free samples. he accidentally startles a small child into tears after lodging himself in between two bags of rice to hide.

matsukawa issei: hiking. you two get lost on the way down and end up having to call the forest service to get rescued by rangers.

kunimi akira: the backseat of his car (it’s an SUV).

inarizaki

miya atsumu: an arcade. does that thing with the ticket wheel where he lifts up the cover and stops it on the 1000 ticket slot. is also surprisingly adept at skee-ball.

miya osamu: tells you to get dressed for a fancy dinner. when he picks you up you find out “fancy dinner” in osamu language means two pbj’s on a picnic blanket in the park and a game of cards.

kita shinsuke: the planetarium. he’s fascinated with the stars and pays more attention to them than he does to you, but it’s cute how wide his eyes get when the entire milky way comes into view.

suna rintarou: a wendy’s drive-thru, and you’re not even mad about it— he somehow manages to make a frosty and fries seem classy.

fukurodani

akaashi keiji: the aquarium. he has an endearing fixation on the hermit crabs and unsuccessfully tries to hide his excitement when the tour guide lets him hold one on his palm. you now have a picture of him smiling at the crab as your lock screen.

bokuto koutarou: a hedge maze. it takes you two hours to escape, and you only manage to get out because he kicks a hole in one of the hedges and crawls through.

konoha akinori: the farmer’s market. purposely buys way too many bananas as an excuse for asking you over tomorrow to help him make banana bread.

date tech

futakuchi kenji: tries to seem sophisticated by taking you to see a foreign film. it ends up being so raunchy that he can’t even look you in the eye when the credits roll.

koganegawa kanji: axe throwing. is incredibly embarrassed when you manage to hit the target and he can’t. claims he’s just “going easy” on you but his scowl says otherwise.

aone takanobu: tandem bike riding. his greek god quads provide more than enough horsepower, so you can just sit back and relax.

other

terushima yuuji: a lookout. it’s too cloudy to see the city lights so you have a contest to see who can spit the farthest over the edge.

sakusa kiyoomi: invites you over for dinner and a puzzle-- he’s more comfortable in his own home. the atmosphere is almost relaxing, and dare I say… romantic? he does get frustrated when you keep trying to fit edge pieces in the center, though.

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migilini · 3 years

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Roadtrip - Charlie Gillespie

a/n: just a daydream I had when I saw this GIF. It’s not proofread. I’m open to requests.

Words: 2k

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You and Charlie were on a road trip from LA to Oklahoma and last to Chigaco. Your boyfriend had to move there due to the fact that he got cast in a movie and you were fortunate enough to move with him, being able to work from home. It wasn't your idea to drive all those miles via car, but Charlie doesn't like flying so he avoided it at all cost and because you love him, you accompanied him for those dreadful hours.

It was way too early for your liking, of course Charlie knew that and put up with your grumpy, nontalkative mood, simply shoving a large cup of coffee into your hands. “Ma cœur, how much longer until you're more awake to talk to me?” Charlie asked after a while, as he glanced over to you on the passenger side, his free hand tracing little hearts on your thigh. You yawned and took a sip of the now lukewarm coffee. “About this much.” You measured the amount still in the cup, making him chuckle.

You and Charlie have been dating for nearly one and a half years now, however it feels like it's been much longer. From the start, the two of you were attached at the hip, instantly comfortable around each other. Everybody said that you two moved too fast because you moved in with each other after only three months of dating, but because of Covid you didn't want to risk being apart. Even though objectively speaking, you and Charlie were not the same, you were more daydreaming than actually paying attention and you didn't need the adrenaline in your life, you completed him in a magical way.

Right now you two were two hours in, the coffee was empty and you ass already sore from all the sitting. It was something you always despided about yourself, you could spend all day laying in bed, but you couldn't sit still, changing position every now and then. Tapping your foot to the beat of the song streaming from the radio. Charlie calmly hummed along to the song, his fingers also tapping along. You looked over at him and couldn't love him more.

“Are you excited to see Owen and Jer?” You asked him, breaking the silence. A breathtaking smile overtook his face “You know it! How about you?” You nodded, also excited to see the boys again. “Mhm. I missed them a lot.” The song on the radio changed and you huffed in annoyance, you hated that song. Sensing that, Charlie took out his phone and connected it to the car.

“Charlie! Don't drive and be on your phone!” You snapped it out of his hand, giving him a displeased look. Scrolling through Spotify you eventually choose a song to your liking. 18 by OneDirection blared through the speakers, while you put the volume higher you turned in your seat. “I have loved you since we were 18. Well technically 20 but that's a detail.” You whispered the last part. He scrunched his nose in amusement, a quirk you loved dearly.

The two of you screamed lyrics at the top of your lungs, the car driving on an empty highway. The rest of the world fading away, leaving the two of you in a cozy little bubble of your own. The day continued just like that, the two of you singing to songs and just enjoying the company. You loved seeing him drive, something about it was just so attractive to you, maybe it was the way his arms flexed when he moved the wheel, or the fact that you yourself were unable to drive. Even with your 21 years of life, you refused to sit behind the steering wheel and Charlie had tried several times, it always ended with you in tears.

“Do you want to stop somewhere to sleep? It's getting kinda late and you have been driving the whole day.” you questioned, looking at the horizon as the last beams of yellow and red vanished slowly. “Yes please. Can you search for a hotel around here?” Nodding, you took his phone and went onto google maps.

“There's one about two hours away in New Mexico. Reviews look good and the price isn't too high. Sadly no breakfast included, so we're gonna get you something on the road, not gonna let you starve, otherwise I will be stranded here.” He gave your thigh a playful slap and a squeeze “Yeah, yeah love you too, Char. I will look it up… Ah perfect! There's a Dunkin Donuts five miles from the hotel. Does that sound good babe?” He hummed in approval.

“Ah a man of words!” he took one of your hands and gave it a light kiss. “You know me. I always wanted to be a Mime.” he joked.

Before you knew it, the car came to a stop in the pitch black. Only a little yellow neon sign lighting up the hotel parking spot.

“This looks like this one Teen Wolf episode…” you murmured, not feeling the best about this place. “You’re just saying that because you're scared of the dark ma cœur. I'm here to protect you. No Monsters are harming you tonight.” he teased, getting out of the car. In typical Charlie fashion, he walked around the car and opened your door and held out a hand for you, immediately intertwining your fingers.

You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand. “Ha ha…”

The two of you were happy to finally walk off the stiffness of your legs, as you walked over to the reception.

“Hello. We would have a room please.”

The receptionist was in his late 30s, his greying hair falling messily in his eyes and a big smile sat on his thin lips. “No Problem. Is a king bed alright with the two of you?” he didn't want to assume anything. You and Charlie chuckled, nodding slightly “Preferred actually.”

Five minutes later, you waited in the room 345 while Charlie insisted on getting your bags. Stretching, you tried to get rid of the soreness in your back, your eyes nearly falling shut.

Charlie opened the doors, giving you a tired smile. “Let's get to bed. Tomorrow we rise early!” you groaned, making him chuckle. Standing up, you walked over to him, your arms wrapping around his familiar frame. He was stroking your head, giving it a kiss before walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

In the meanwhile you changed your clothes, changing from some jeans and one of his hoodies to sweatpants and an oversized shirt.

You gave him a hasty kiss as he came out of the bathroom, smelling the mint of the toothpaste still lingering on his lips. After you washed your face and brushed your teeth, you let yourself fall into the bed. His arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer into him.

“Thank you.” Turning around to face him, you traced his features with your fingertips “For what?”

“Coming on this drive with me. You could have easily convinced me to fly, you know.”

“I know mon amour.” you said, looking into his eyes, as you tried your best to keep yours open. You left several kisses on his bare shoulders until your lips met his. He smiled into the kiss and then nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, pecking it several times before stopping.

“Good night. I love you.”

“Good night babe. Love you more.”

The next morning came way too fast and you didn't want to move out of his comfortable and safe arms into the cold car, but you had to. The sunrise hadn't even begun, the sky still a dark blue, when the two of you drove into the Dunkin drive through, to get you a coffee and a donut. You had to have something sweet in the mornings.

“Actually, I saw a little restaurant on the way here that should have takeaway, do you mind if we take a quick stop?” you shook your head, trying hard not to fall asleep again. An idea ignited in your head and you sat up straighter. “What if we go live while you drive? Maybe I'll be more awake or I'll have stuff to read.” you requested, looking at your boyfriend with a slight pout.

“Sure thing. I'll bet they'll love it.” Smiling, you grabbed his phone from his hand and went into Instagram.

“Hey Char and y/n here.” you introduced while trying to balance the phone on the dashboard “Its freaking early and I’m nearly falling asleep so I thought you guys could entertain me a bit. Mister Gillespie over here isn't as interesting as you guys.” he pouted into the camera, you leaned forward quickly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The chat was already flooding with hey’s and questions about your relationship and where you were going.

“Is it true that you sometimes talk french to Charlie?” you read from the chat, your eyes widening a little in surprise.

“Sometimes. I mean my french isn't the best but growing up in Europe, I picked up some stuff.”

“She’s just being humble, she understands a lot and her accent is hella cute.” Charlie piped in, pulling into the drive through he mentioned earlier. “Je vois que tu comprends." He said to you, a slight smile playing on his lips. You got lost in his eyes for a second before responding. “Of course I understand babe!” he grabbed your hand and kissed it softly while chuckling.

“OMG that was just so cute!” you read out loud from the chat. Blushing slightly, you giggled, “He loves to do stuff like that when he’s driving. Always showing affection in one way or the other.”

“Uhm next question...What are you two doing so early? Someone asks.” with an raised eyebrow you look over to your boyfriend “I think you can answer this.” you turned the camera a bit so he was more in frame. “We're going to Chicoago, Chigacoooo.” he quoted the iconic Victorious scene, his eyes scanning the road before him.

He got himself a cheese thing of some sort, you couldn't quite make out what it was and parked on the side of the road, getting his food ready in front of him.

He bit into his cheese thing while you sipped on your coffee conversing with the chat. Just earlier you had begged for music suggestions, telling them to send their best road trip songs. Charlie looked really good right now, his hair was pulled together in a bun and he was wearing a blue shirt. You on the other hand had your hair in a top bun and the same hoodie from yesterday, a wool blanket draped over your shoulders. You just wanted to ask if you could have a bite, when he got cheese all over his chin.

He laughed as he looked over to you. Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned forward in your seat. Your face mere inches away from his, you could feel his breath on your face. You stuck out your tongue and licked the cheese away, your eyes never leaving his.

Without giving it a second thought, you settled back into a comfortable position and took a sip from your coffee with a prominent smirk on your face. Leaving a dumbfounded Charlie and a screaming chat.

Not even an hour later the clip of you licking his chin, in maybe a bit of a too sexual way, went viral in the community.

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fluff #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie images #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x oc #jatp

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gutsygay · 3 years

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Stuffing Story: “Daniel Gets His Fill”

Hieee 👋presenting my first kink fiction story, just a couple college guys getting stuffed.

Features stuffing, overeating, tummy rumbles, burps, and tummy rubs.

SOOOO um hope y’all like it 👉👈🥺

“

“And that about wraps it up for today! Don’t forget chapter four homework due Monday.” the professor said, dismissing the class.

Daniel grinned, hopped from his seat and headed toward the lecture hall door. He was an active type, and hated to sit still for long periods. As he waited for the crowd of his classmates to shuffle through the door ahead of him, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the nearby glass bookcase. He was average height, with tan skin, broad shoulders and large thighs. He was muscular and lean, save for a bit of a belly protruding from the very bottom of his abdomen, which he could never quite seem to work off, or even to tuck away completely when he wanted to hide his pudge.

Daniel didn’t care though. His main passions were eating, and working it off with strenuous exercise. His energy seemed boundless, but none more than his appetite was bottomless. At the time he wanted nothing more than a full rack of ribs and some buffalo wings. But at the same time he already had energy to expend as well. He wavered about how he’d spend the afternoon when his friend Nick called to him from across the hall, settling his silent debate.

“Yo Danny! We hitting the gym or what?” Nick said with a toothy grin.

“Sure, bro.” Daniel replied. “Leg day today, right?”

“Think so.”

“Sweet. I’ll meet you downstairs in five.” Daniel said, and headed to his car.

He grabbed his athletic clothes. He smiled to himself in anticipation of the coming activity. Soon they’d squat, lunge, press and strain their legs until they were nearly too sore to walk. He turned his thigh to the mirror he’d mounted on the inside of his locker door. His quads were already looking huge - they were getting that chiseled teardrop shape as well. As he lifted his shirt for a better view, he felt a sudden rumbling from down below. It had been nearly four hours since lunch - which was never enough for Daniel in the first place - and he was filled with nearly child-like excitement for what was to come. He thought of his favorite part of lifting - gorging himself afterward. Such a strenuous, calorie-intensive session as leg day meant he could pack it in with no shame.

He arrived at the basement gym, which was open to all resident students, but was surprisingly empty at the time. Nick was already at the squat rack - he had already set them up with a soul-crushing 315 pound squat rack.

“Alright then.” Daniel said, pumped. “Let’s hit it.”

And so they did. They grunted their way through 5 sets of squats, followed by lunges and leg presses. Then Daniel did some calf raises in the squat rack, his belly jiggling every time he descended. Some of it slipped out from under his shirt occasionally, and glistened with sweat. Daniel just rolled his eyes and tucked it back in.

When they finished, Nick lifted his shirt to wipe his sweat, exposing his ab muscles. Nick looked at Daniel’s partially exposed abdominal region and smirked. “You can never seem to lose that chubby little gut, can you?” he said, poking Daniel’s flab, which was still beaded with sweat. “Nah, don’t have the willpower I guess. But I don’t care. Let’s go eat.” Daniel said.

“Sure, maybe just a salad, Danny? If you - “

Nick was cut off by a deep audible growl from Daniel’s belly. Daniel squeezed it with both hands and looked up at Nick.

“Uh, okay bro, how does Wendy’s sound?” Nick said, silenced by Daniel’s rumblings.

“I’m not feeling it. Let’s hit that new buffet instead.” Daniel said, already headed for the door. Nick followed, knowing his friend was now less of a freshman undergrad and more of a beast in search of prey.

They showered down, got back into school clothes and jumped into Daniel’s car. Daniel usually offered Nick a ride back to his apartment whenever he needed it after their afternoon lifting sessions. They headed a few blocks away from the main campus building, towards a new all-you-can-eat buffet. Daniel’s hungry stomach continued to growl louder, but he simply turned up the car stereo to drown it out.

After what seemed like an eternity, Daniel and Nick pulled into the buffet. They walked in and the greeter happily showed them a booth, but the restaurant owner behind her pursed his lips upon seeing Daniel and Nick, visibly ravenous. They had already twice visited the fairly-new establishment. This kid’s gonna drive me out of business, he thought to himself. That orifice must eat his weight in food once a week.

They claimed their booth seats, and beelined to the buffet area. Daniel grabbed a plate and loaded it with buffalo wings (honey barbecue AND blue cheese), meat loaf, a bacon cheeseburger, quesadillas and a pepperoni calzone. The plate must’ve weighed nearly a pound, and Daniel was practically drooling on the way back to the table.

“Jeez, got enough there, bro?” Nick asked as they sat down, but Daniel was already stuffing his face.

“Nnnf, mm!” Daniel forced a reply.

“Never, huh?” Nick asked.

He watched as Daniel tore into the bacon cheeseburger, engulfing nearly a third of it in one bite. In well under a minute he’d downed the whole thing. Daniel grinned wordlessly at Nick while chewing the last bite, and quickly swallowed before promptly moving on to the meat loaf, followed by the chicken wings.

Jeez, does he ever slow down to breathe? Nick thought to himself. And I feel like he’s just getting started. Nick ate a few bites of his ham slices, and mac and cheese on the side. When he looked back up, Daniel’s buffalo wings had been reduced to six picked-clean bones piled up on the plate, being drenched with grease dripping from Daniel’s calzone. Nick watched as Daniel’s eyes rolled back slightly and closed with pleasure every time he swallowed. He’s enjoying it. It’s like sex on a plate to him! he thought.

Daniel finished the 3 quesadilla slices, and pressed a napkin to his mouth. And then he burped. He tried to quiet it, but his hand and the napkin did little to muffle the rumbling gas that burbled up and out of him. It lasted nearly 5 seconds in all, and Nick could even feel the vibration through the table.

“You good, dude?” Nick asked.

“Uh, ‘scuse me, heh heh.” Daniel wiped his mouth and rolled his eyes, trying and failing to play off his prior eruption.

“Damn dude, you really put that shit away.” Nick gestured to the now empty plate before him.

“What can I say? I’m hungry as fuck.”

“You mean you were hungry as fuck.”

“I dunno man, that belch freed up some room.” Daniel said, patting his stomach. His belly had always been a little large, or at least proportionally big compared to the rest of his body, but now it was visibly distended. More? How could he possibly still be hungry? Nick wondered, and watched as he purposefully strolled back to the buffet line. He had just packed away more than 3000 calories as if it were nothing. Nick couldn’t help but feel intimidated, yet drawn to Daniel’s ability to consume like some kind of alpha male.

By the end of it, Daniel had downed a second plate. And a third. And a shish-kabob. And not one, but two bowls of ice cream for dessert.

Daniel polished off the second bowl, and released another burp, not even trying to muzzle it this time. Nick sat in awe. He himself had managed two plates and a scoop of ice cream, but his dishes were nowhere near as heavily packed as Daniel’s.

“Oof, I think I’m about ready to put a cork in it, bro.” Daniel said, fiddling with his pants belt.

He stood up, revealing his overstuffed abdomen. In the past hour it had taken them to eat, it had grown from a miniscule, doughy bump to a basketball-sized food baby. They headed out to the parking lot, and Daniel lifted his shirt to give his belly a little massage. Nick couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“So that’s where you put it all.” Nick said, blank-faced, and finding himself weirdly intrigued by this bodily transformation.

Daniel turned to face Nick. He burped again, managing to muffle it into a low hiss this time, and replied, “I’m not a bottomless pit after all, haha. It’s gotta go somewhere, y’know.” He looked down at Nick, grinning, and gently patted the underside of his bloat to make it jiggle.

“Uh, yeah, heh heh.” Nick replied, watching his friend’s flab bounce.

“Hey, you want to come over and hang for a while? That anime you like came out on Netflix.” Daniel offered.

“Yeah, sure! I’d love to let it hang out with you. Er, hang out with you.” Nick said. An unexplainable chill ran through him.

They hopped back in Daniel’s car and headed off to his apartment. Nick kept glancing over toward Daniel, still in disbelief at the size of his stomach. In the intermittent illumination from passing streetlamps, he saw it bulging and spilling out in between the seat belt straps. He also saw the physique of the rest of Daniel’s body - his arms and chest were defined, and his quads were still bulging from the prior workout. His left arm was fully extended, lazily gripping the top of the steering wheel, his other resting sandwiched between his thigh and his belly flab.

When they arrived at Daniel’s apartment, they went to his couch, turned on the TV, and waited for the streaming service to connect.

“Whoof!” Daniel exhaled, as he collapsed onto the couch. He reclined in the corner with the armrest and the back cushion, and extended one hand behind his head, the other poking his abdomen again. “Heh heh, maybe I overdid it.”

“Nahhh,” Nick said absentmindedly, staring at Daniel’s gut.

“Uh, don’t you think so?” Daniel grinned, raising an eyebrow.

Nick realized what he’d responded with, and simply blushed.

“Yo, I’m about to burst, jeez.” Daniel lifted his shirt further and fumbled with his belt. “I gotta undo this, I’m dying. You’re cool with that, right?” Daniel said, popping his belt buckle open.

Nick paused, still staring, and said, “D-Do what you gotta do, man.”

Daniel’s exposed belly shone in the soft light of the television. He gripped the button of his jeans, pulled with a grunt, “Unnnh!” and popped open the waist of his pants, sinking backward into the cushions as he did so, as if overcome with relief. He pulled down his zipper, and the lower part of his abdomen spilled out, and rested upon his thighs ever so slightly. Then he lifted his belly to grab the waistband of his underwear, and tuck it downward, so that his gut now hung out completely, unrestricted. His stomach gurgled audibly. Daniel put a hand on his chest and belched loudly. Good lord, he has no shame about this at all, he’s just sprawled out, digesting and not giving a fuck. Nick thought. He’d never experienced anything quite like this before.

“Damn, ‘scuse me, heh heh. Sorry about that.” Daniel said, his abdomen continuing to rumble periodically.

“Don’t be.” Nick said quickly, unsure of why he had received such a feeling of satisfaction from someone else’s burp.

Just then, the streaming service loaded, and Daniel leaned forward to pick up the TV remote, and let out a slight groan, the sides of his belly folding into rolls as he did so. Daniel gripped the remote with both hands and said, “This dumb thing doesn’t work right, I need to get it fixed. The show won’t play unless you hold the On-Demand and Play buttons at the same time, for the first few minutes.”

Daniel reclined again and held the two buttons, extending both hands toward the TV, further exposing his belly in his lap. The theme song of the aging anime started on the screen. The catchy, angelic tune emanated from the TV, but wasn’t enough to muffle further rumbling from Daniel’s stomach.

Daniel looked down at it between his arms. “Ugh, it’s sitting in me like a rock. I really gotta burp again.”

Nick was fixated on Daniel, not paying a moment of attention to the anime on the TV. “H-heh, bet you could use a belly rub right now.”

“Ugh, you know it, bro.” Daniel replied.

Nick paused for a long while, staring at Daniel’s plump gut, resting in his lap. “You know… I guess, maybe, if you wanted to, I could rub your belly for you.”

Daniel looked over at Nick, and let out a soft chuckle.

Nick stuttered, nervous he’d made things weird. “I-I mean, uh, since your hands are full, and like-”

“Sure, bro. Come on over.” Daniel said smiling.

“Uh, seriously? I mean, okay.” Nick said warily.

“Yeah man, what else are bros for? Also I’m dying over here, I’ve never been this bloated.” Daniel reassured him, as Nick slid toward his end of the couch. “If I could get a quick massage down there that would be great.” Daniel reclined, and turned his body toward Nick slightly.

Nick rubbed his hands together to warm them, and gazed upon Daniel’s rumbling, distended tummy. In the low light from the television, he could see that it had bulged from under his ribcage, giving the top an almost triangular shape, but became sublimely rounded closer to his navel, and at the underbelly, which spilled between the zipper of his jeans and onto his thighs. There was almost no hair on his tummy, save for a light sprinkling of peach fuzz surrounding his navel, and trailing downward towards his manhood. His belly button, which Nick had earlier seen to protrude slightly outward, had all but disappeared into the newly chubbier, squishy mass of belly.

Nick hesitated to take in the sight up close. “Y-you ready?” he looked up at Daniel.

“Go ahead, bro.” Daniel replied with a smile.

Gingerly, Nick placed a hand - starting with the fingertips - atop Daniel’s belly, and he could feel the warmth and softness of his exposed skin. He placed his other hand on it as well - the fingers wrapped around the side of his belly, while the thumb lightly gripped in Daniel’s sunken navel. He slowly pressed into the soft skin until it reached a point and became firmer, the bloat caused by all the food. Nick blushed and remembered that he was giving a massage, not just feeling his friend for pleasure.

Nick began to press more firmly and move his hands in a slow, rhythmic motion surrounding Daniel’s navel.

“Like this?”

“Almost.” Daniel replied, his eyes closing in bliss.

Nick continued, pressing firmer still, and re-orienting himself on the couch to press and knead from different angles. Nick could still feel Daniel’s stomach rumbling about, working away at the mass of food. Periodically Daniel would let out a small burp, and Nick could feel the vibrations starting deep within his friend’s body, and burbling up and out. Nick wondered what kind of relief he was bringing his friend, if Daniel’s tummy was faring any better due to the massages and release of gas.

“Move your right hand down a little.” Daniel instructed. Nick slid his hand down below the navel, closer to Daniel’s left leg.

“Unh, down more. And press.” Daniel said, sounding almost desperate.

Nick obeyed, his hand now brushing against the front of Daniel’s jeans, and the waist of his underwear. He pressed harder in this lower area, under the stomach, and felt something shift, as if he’d freed up some mass deep within Daniel’s swollen gut.

“Right there, that’s it -” Daniel started, before he was cut off by a sudden, intense rumble, followed by the loudest burp Nick had ever heard. Nick’s head was positioned right near the top of Daniel’s abdominal area, and he could hear the massive expulsion of gas, and feel the tummy deflating. The burp lasted nearly a full ten seconds, and Nick looked up at Daniel, chuckling.

“Man, you feel any better after that?” he asked.

Daniel hesitated to catch his breath, “Yes, oh my God, I needed that.” he said, groaning. Daniel set down the remote, as the show was playing properly now.

At this point Nick was in acceptance that he was aroused by all this, and continued softly massaging Daniel’s gut, which was finally settled, more or less. Nick prodded experimentally around Daniel’s belly button, curious if he could help his friend release additional pressure. Daniel rewarded his friend’s work with several more burps, each bringing him blissful relief as the pressure in his gut gradually decreased. Finally, Daniel’s stomach was settled, and Nick felt the mass beginning to move downward into the lower intestines.

“Thank you, bro. That felt amazing.” Daniel said, grinning as he looked down at Nick, whose hands were still feeling his belly.

“My pleasure!” Nick replied with a toothy grin. He realized that seeing his friend stuffed, and helping him through tummy trouble, made him feel a delight he’d never experienced before. He stayed still, save for his hands, waiting for Daniel to say he’d done enough. But it seemed to Nick that his friend was just letting him stay there, his hands on his tummy, for as long as he wanted.

Eventually Nick fell asleep, his head on Daniel’s lap, and he listened to the last remaining soft gurgles from deep within his friend’s tummy as he drifted off. Daniel soon found himself nodding off as well, in an irresistible food coma, his hand resting on Nick’s back. He fell asleep, happily dreaming of tomorrow’s breakfast.

“

And that’s that, hope y’all enjoyed 😅

#stuffing #overeating #gassy #gassy belly #tummy troubles #burp #tummy rub #tummy rumbles #gurgle #belly rubs #belch #gutsygay #original

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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years

Text

Looking Through A Window (2)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Oh man. My dudes. I received so much love and support and excited feedback on the first chapter that I thought my heart was going to explode. Y’all are so wonderful. Keep it up. <3

*****

Luckily, Matty lets them take the Phoenix jet to Houston. Flying commercial would make today even more tortuous than it already promises to be, albeit for a different reason.

No matter how hard he tries to distract himself, Mac cannot stop staring at the diamond ring on Riley’s finger. The princess cut gem is stunning and ridiculously large, but it suits her cover as a lucrative arms dealer. A white gold wedding band sits below it. Riley left her usual assortment of rings at home, and Mac can’t help but think her long, delicate fingers look bare without them.

He tears his eyes away from the rings again and again, both on the plane and while driving to the safe house. Riley drives with just her left hand, her right elbow resting on the center console. Mac likes driving, but there’s something relaxing about riding shotgun while Riley drives instead. He’s never been able to put a finger on it, but the sense of ease washes over him all the same. Admiring the way sunlight illuminates her engagement ring is simply a bonus.

He doesn’t let himself imagine what he might give her, in an alternate future where she reciprocates his feelings and one day wants to marry him.

Harley obediently lays in the backseat, staring out the windshield. She's been on her best behavior the entire twenty four hours Mac's known her, ever the professional.

Which puts her completely at odds with Mac and Riley's shenanigans—cracking jokes, dancing on the plane and in the car, doing purposefully bad impersonations of Russ. These are the best parts of going on ops alone with Riley. They can let loose in a way they just couldn’t when anyone else other than Bozer was around. Everyone else is professional all the time; Mac and Riley are only professional when they have to be.

Riley taps the steering wheel in time to the classic rock song on the radio. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Dinner? We haven’t even had lunch yet!”

“True.” Riley chuckles. “Can you tell I’m hungry?”

Mac gives her a sly look. “Not at all.”

They settle on Texas barbecue for lunch on their way to the safe house, because that’s what Jack would choose if he was here. If only the old man could see them now, all grown up and getting sent to take down terrorists unsupervised.

Seated in a booth in the far corner of the restaurant, Mac raises his brisket sandwich in a toast to Jack, in whatever afterlife he found himself in. Hopefully it’s the one with an endless supply of good barbecue.

“Oh man, Jack would’ve loved this,” Riley says through a mouthful of food. She sneaks Harley a piece of brisket.

Mac smiles. “Yeah, he would’ve.”

It’s easier, now, to talk about him. At first, Mac hadn’t been sure he could ever get to a point where talking about Jack didn’t make him want to hit something or just curl up and sob.

But here he is, on the other side. Him and Riley both.

Their safe house is another twenty minutes away from the restaurant, in a nice neighborhood full of trees and children playing on the sidewalks. It’s so much greener than a California neighborhood could ever dream of being. There’s even a park across the street from their apartment complex. It’s exactly the sort of place a young, affluent couple would want to live.

Riley parks in their designated space, and the pair ascend the stairs to apartment number 202. Outside of the car, they don’t dare use each other’s real names until they’re sure the apartment is free of bugs. The place was furnished earlier that week by other Phoenix agents, but Mac and Riley do a thorough sweep of every room just in case.

It’s a nice apartment. Wood flooring, granite countertops, matching cabinets throughout. There are pictures on the walls, but Mac doesn’t bother to stop and check what they are.

Riley clears the space from back to front, so Mac does the opposite. He clears the kitchen first, frowning at the absence of any sort of food, before moving on to the living room.

Mac stops dead in his tracks when he enters the bedroom. The singular bedroom. With a singular, queen-sized bed.

Oh no. This is not happening.

Mac shakes his head and rubs his eyes, hoping his mind is just playing tricks on him and that there’s actually two beds. Or a whole other room he missed before.

The one and only bed seems to mock him.

He walks back out, finding Riley already sitting at the kitchen table, turning on her laptop. “Uhh, Riles? There’s only—”

“One bed,” she finishes, not bothering to look up. “I know.”

Oh god. He can’t do this. He can’t. Not with his dignity still intact. Mac stammers, “I’ll, uhh, sleep on the couch. You can have it.”

That gets Riley’s attention. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re going to be here for weeks. You’ll hurt your back sleeping on the couch that long. Just sleep with me.” Riley’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just said. “In the bed,” she quickly adds.

Mac ducks his head to hide his blush.

“What are you working on?” he asks in a feeble attempt to distract himself from their sleeping situation. Because it will definitely be a situation if Mac’s not careful.

“Connecting to the Wi-Fi,” Riley says in a slow, “What else would I be doing?” sort of way.

“Right.” Mac silently curses himself. Of course that’s what she’s doing. “Anyway, I’m assuming you already know this, since you probably opened the fridge too, but we have no food.”

“I saw.” She’s multitasking again, manicured fingers flying faster across her keyboard than Mac can keep track of. “Why don’t you unload our bags while I finish this, and then we can go.”

Unable to help feeling like he’s been dismissed, Mac complies without protest.

Soon they’re back in the car, headed to the grocery store, and the whole thing feels ridiculously domestic. Mac’s never been a fan of grocery shopping, but Riley makes it almost...fun. For starters, she’s not methodical about it the way Bozer and Desi are. But more than that, getting to spend time with her doing mundane, non-work stuff is a nice reminder that their relationship is more than just the job. They’re friends too.

Mac wishes there is a way to tell her all that without it sounding weird.

They come home, unload the groceries, and take Harley for a long walk, and that feels easy too. It feels normal, even though literally nothing about this situation is normal, and Mac already knows he’ll miss this when the op is over.

But normalcy ends when Riley beckons Mac to sit beside her at the kitchen table, and together they write an advertisement for their arms dealing business. Once they’re satisfied with it, Riley sends it off into the dark web, and there’s nothing to do but wait, like a spider after spinning her web.

The waiting is the worst part.

Mac is contemplating taking Harley for a second walk when Riley asks, “Want to help me make dinner?” He takes one look at her hands on her hips and the “you don’t actually have a choice” look on her face and knows he’ll be left to fend for himself if he doesn’t help now. Mac learned that the hard way back when he and Riley lived together.

“Sure.”

They work in comfortable silence. Mac chops vegetables and grates cheese for their quesadillas while Riley does the actual cooking part. Even though they are doing separate tasks, Mac is acutely aware of every move Riley makes, no matter how insignificant. Flexing her long, thin fingers around a knife. Itching the back of her calf with her foot. Dancing in place, spatula in hand, while she waits to flip the quesadillas sizzling in the pan.

Mac smiles softly. Her random little dances are cute. He’s noticed them more and more since realizing he has feelings for her, but if Mac is being honest, he’s always thought the dances are cute.

Riley hisses as she peeks under the tortilla, checking to see if it’s browned yet.

“You good?” Mac asks, frowning.

“Yeah, I touched the pan by accident.” Riley runs her thumb under cold water.

Her laptop dings while they eat. Wide-eyed, Mac glances at Riley. That was fast. She grimaces before sliding the laptop closer and checking the notification.

“Is it them?” he asks tentatively. That’s the hard part about this; in order for their business to look more legit, they had to just put an ad out and hope for a response, rather than target the terrorist organization directly.

Riley exhales. “No, it’s not them. It’s someone else.”

Swallowing another bite of quesadilla, Mac says, “I don’t know whether I’m relieved or if that’s worse.”

“Same.”

There are no more responses that night.

*****

Mac wakes up in the same position he fell asleep in—on his side, facing outward, with as much space between him and Riley as possible. When they crawled into bed the night before, Riley did the same.

Harley spent the night on the couch.

She’s a very guarded dog, Mac is slowly realizing. Tolerating, but not trusting. Mac supposes he would be like that too if he was a dog and he got stuck with a bunch of strangers after his human suddenly disappeared one day.

He makes coffee, feeds Harley breakfast, and takes a shower, all before Riley loses her battle with the snooze button and finally gets out of bed. While she showers, Mac takes Harley for a walk in hopes that the cool, spring air will ease the anxiety that took root the moment Riley released their ad into the void.

It doesn’t.

Dark, puffy clouds loom on the horizon, and the few birds Mac hears shriek at each other in warning. It looks like a storm is coming.

When Mac returns, he’s met with a grim expression, one he understands without Riley uttering a single word. “They answered,” she confirms.

“What did they say?” Unclipping Harley’s leash, Mac moves to stand behind Riley, resting his hands on the back of her chair. The scent of her shampoo tickles his nose, and he forces himself to ignore it and focus on what Riley’s saying.

“They want to meet. Today.”

“Time or place?”

Riley points at a small box on her screen. “Just an address.”

“What’s there?”

“A warehouse,” Riley says. “Owned by the same shell corporation other Phoenix techs already tied to the organization.”

“Not very clandestine, are they?”

“No, they’re not.” Riley looks up at him, her head bumping his sternum, and butterflies ricochet inside Mac’s rib cage. There’s something soft in Riley’s expression that makes Mac want to kiss her. “Are you ready for this?”

Mac sighs. “As ready as I ever am. Are you?”

“Yeah,” she says, but her confidence falters. Without thinking, Mac squeezes her shoulders in reassurance before walking away to change.

*****

The warehouse is located on the edge of the city, in an industrial area that has certainly seen better days. Even from a distance, Mac can see cobwebs decorating the warehouse windows and rust creeping up the roller doors. Aside from Riley, there’s not another soul in sight.

As per the directions the organization sent after Riley confirmed the meeting, Mac parks on the south side of the building, near the only functional-looking door. He doesn’t look at Riley as they get out of the car, instead desperately trying not to cringe at the cold, heavy weight of the gun holstered at his side, hidden beneath his jacket.

High-end arms dealers couldn’t walk around unarmed, unfortunately.

Although her hands are occupied with holding Harley’s leash, there’s a gun hidden beneath Riley’s suit jacket as well. Mac’s stomach churns. The second Riley emerged from their bedroom earlier wearing that jet black suit, she was a different person. She was wholly Genevieve Turner, and no matter how hard Mac tried, he couldn’t find even a single trace of his best friend beneath the icy exterior.

Locking their SUV, Mac smooths the lapels of his own black suit and slips into character as well.

The dark clouds Mac noticed earlier are directly overhead now. Mac has never believed in omens the way Jack did, but he can’t help hearing Jack’s voice in his head, warning him that black clouds are a sign of certain doom. Or something like that.

There’s no one inside the warehouse, at least as far as Mac can see. “Hello?” he calls, the word echoing slightly in the open space. Aside from a few random wooden crates, the room is empty.

A door slams, and then an older man comes into view. He’s probably in his late fifties, with graying hair and a beer belly his shirt doesn’t quite cover. The man swaggers like he owns the place, although Mac doubts the leader of a terrorist cell would deign to play tour guide.

No doubt there’s a quip on the edge of Riley’s tongue about entitled white men, but she doesn’t share it.

The man extends a hand to Mac in introduction. “Conrad.” His sneer doesn’t reach his eyes.

Mac frowns, keeping his hands at his sides. “Last name?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

What he’s about to say might screw everything up before it even starts, but Mac says it anyway. In his gut, he knows it’s the right call. “If it doesn’t matter, then we’re done here. My wife and I have no interest in entering a business relationship with someone too inexperienced to understand that trust is integral to any transaction.” Mac spins on his heel and strides toward the door, Riley falling into step beside him.

“Wait!” the man calls. They pause, turning around slowly. “Deacon. Conrad Deacon.” The man seems to know he’s already lost. Good. “Welcome to the cause.” He gestures for Mac and Riley to follow him.

Mac stands his ground. In his peripheral, Riley stands utterly still, the perfect mask of cool, collected neutrality. Almost bored, even. It’s scary how easily she becomes her cover.

“Come on now,” Conrad says, taking a single step forward. “We have much to discuss.”

That’s enough of the power play, Mac thinks, but just as he’s about to give in and follow Conrad, Riley utters a single, sharp command that rings through the room. “Sit.”

Harley obeys.

Riley’s lips curve in a cruel, taunting smile. “Then enlighten us.” Mac suppresses a shiver; he’s seen this side of Riley plenty of times before, watched her hone it over the years, but it’s still unnerving. Admittedly, it’s also kind of hot.

Conrad ignores her entirely. He croons, “Why don’t we start with your names?” It’s phrased like a question. It sounds like a question, but Mac sees the demand for what it really is.

Mac gestures to Riley. “This is my wife, Genevieve Turner. And my name is James.” His father’s name tastes like ash on Mac’s tongue.

“And the dog?”

“Killer,” Riley sneers. Mac isn’t sure if she’s kidding or not.

Again, Conrad doesn’t acknowledge her. “James, why don’t I give you the tour and explain what we do here.”

“We’ll go on the tour, but we are not here to join your cause.” It takes every ounce of Mac’s willpower to maintain his neutral tone. “All we care about is what you’d like us to provide and how much you’ll pay for it.”

Conrad doesn’t hide his displeasure. “Fine. Follow me.”

Mac and Riley are led through the open warehouse. The layout is straightforward and nearly impossible to get lost in. But after Conrad shows them a room full of rifles—countless hung on the walls, floor to ceiling, the rest in half-open crates—Mac finds himself counting the number of wooden shipping crates scattered around the building.

He doesn’t like his final number.

Arming terrorists doesn’t sit well with Mac, even if it serves a purpose. It makes him sick, knowing he will likely be indirectly responsible for their next attack.

Especially because those crates are no doubt full of the kind of rifles designed to kill people most effectively. The ones hanging on the wall are military grade, probably cutting-edge. Desi would know exactly what they are and how they work.

Trusting Riley is paying close attention, Mac only half listens to Conrad babble about the cause. But then the older man says something that stops Mac in his tracks. “Our country is being run into the ground by whiny do-nothings,” Conrad asserts, “who waste our money and spew garbage that some people matter more than others. Well, you know what? Hardworking, everyday Americans matter. But no,” he scoffs, “those damn liberals don’t like it when we remind them of the truth. Once we’re rid of them and the insufferables who elected them, this country will be better off.”

The ground sways under Mac’s feet. He knows these people believe this, read it in Matty’s extensive briefing notes. But it’s another thing entirely to hear someone say it to his face.

He can only imagine what Riley must be thinking.

Clearing his throat, Mac tries to redirect the conversation. “Like I said, we don’t care about your cause. Just tell us what you’re looking for, and we’ll be on our way.”

Conrad eyes him suspiciously, but complies. “We’re looking for something a little more than what you can get at the store, you know?”

Mac doesn’t, not exactly. He’ll have to ask Desi later. “I do,” he lies.

“Good. Here’s what we’re willing to pay for it.” He hands Mac a folded piece of paper, and Mac does a double take when he reads the number. There are a lot of zeroes. “And as a show of good faith, we’d like it delivered tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Riley splutters. Mac feels it then, the broiling rage slipping through a crack in her persona. He needs to get her out of there. Now. Not just to preserve the op, but for Riley’s wellbeing. Some audacity Matty has making Riley play nice with men like this.

Mac slides his hands into his pockets, using the movement as a cover to brush his knuckles against Riley’s fist. I know. I’m here. I’m sorry.

For the first time, Conrad addresses Riley directly. “Yes. Tomorrow. Unless that’s something you can’t do?”

“We can do that,” she replies calmly, and the difference between her reactions is like night and day. As quickly as that crack appeared, it was gone.

“Excellent.” Conrad takes another step toward Riley, offering to shake hands, but Harley’s low, menacing growl keeps him at bay. Rewarding the dog with a quick scratch on the head, Riley closes the gap and shakes Conrad’s still-outstretched hand.

“It’s a deal,” she says. Following suit, Mac shakes Conrad’s hand as well and follows Riley out the door, neither of them uttering another word.

Mac drives. One look at Riley’s trembling fist decides for him.

By the time the warehouse disappears from the rearview mirror, he can’t take the silence anymore. “Hey,” Mac starts, but Riley cuts him off with a hand.

“Not until we’re inside.”

They hit every single red light between the warehouse and the apartment, and Mac anxiously taps the steering wheel. Raindrops land on the windshield. They’re small at first, but soon the drops are large and numerous enough to refract the streetlights, and Mac struggles to see where he’s going. He adjusts the windshield wipers over and over, never landing on the right speed.

Too slow. Too fast. Too slow. Too fast.

Mac settles on a setting that’s slightly too fast, and the squeak of rubber on glass nearly matches his heart thudding in his chest.

Riley stares straight ahead, unmoving, unblinking. Mac wants to reach out, to let a gentle touch say what he verbally can’t, but the road is slick enough to make him keep two hands on the wheel. We’re almost there, he reassures himself.

By the time he parks, it’s pouring hard enough that the ten second walk from the car to the door soaks them to the bone. Riley’s hands shake as she unlocks the apartment door.

Once they’re inside and Mac unclips Harley’s leash, Riley turns to him with pained, pleading eyes. His heart breaking all over again, Mac draws her in for a long, tight hug. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to.

Mac just cradles the back of her head and sways gently, wishing he could fix the world for her.

Neither pulls away, even when Riley suddenly says, “If Conrad was smart, he would’ve had someone bug our car while he paraded us around the warehouse. I don’t think he’s actually smart enough to do that, but we should check first, just in case.”

Mac curses himself for not thinking of that. “Good call.” He rubs Riley’s back, hoping the gesture is soothing. “I hate the way he treated you,” he snarls. “Like you weren’t even worth acknowledging.”

“Welcome to being a woman.”

It was more than that. They both know it. But neither say it.

*****

“You need what?” Matty shrieks over the phone.

Mac winces. “Sorry.” He’d called Desi first, to ask what kind of guns Conrad meant with his innuendo, and received a verbal lashing for not asking any follow-up questions. But she made her best guess anyway. Now on the phone with Matty, it doesn’t take even a single brain cell to know that her reaction will be much, much worse.

“He wants us to prove ourselves,” Riley adds. “As a show of good faith.” The words come out dripping in venom, but their boss doesn’t comment. Mac takes a second to study her; Riley changed into leggings and an oversized flannel shirt, and there are still remnants of dark makeup smudges under her eyes. Now, she’s sitting on the kitchen counter with her knees tucked into her chest. It’s weird to see her take up so little space.

Matty sighs, deeply and loudly in a way conveys her annoyance more than words ever could. “Fine. A few weeks ago, Border Control confiscated a huge shipment of smuggled guns near El Paso, so I’ll see if we can borrow those. But next time, Blondie, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He doesn’t correct Matty in that it was Riley who made the deal. That would only add fuel to the fire.

“Thank you,” he says, and Matty hangs up. Mac runs a hand through his damp hair. “That went well.” Riley’s lips twitch, but it’s not the amused reaction he hopes for. He’s at a complete loss regarding what to say to her, so Mac gently asks, “What can I do?”

Riley slides off the counter, and Mac reaches for her automatically, although he doesn’t actually touch her; his hand hovers just beside Riley’s elbow. She doesn’t shrink away, but she makes no move to touch him either.

“Help me put him and everyone like him in a deep, dark hole where they can’t hurt anybody. And then just…” she trails off, taking a deep breath. “Keep being you.”

With that, she walks away, leaving Mac alone in the kitchen, racking his brain to figure out what that last part means.

*****

Later that night, Mac tosses and turns, replaying Conrad’s words. Once we’re rid of them and the insufferables who elected them, this country will be better off. They seem off-kilter, like what the man said and what he really meant are misaligned. Mac sighs, rubbing his face.

Another bolt of lightning illuminates the bedroom, and Mac automatically counts the seconds until he hears thunder rumbling in the distance. The storm is moving closer.

Beside him, Riley lies on her back with her eyes closed, although her breathing is too light for her to be asleep. Mac wonders if her mind is just as loud and chaotic as his.

For Riley’s sake, he hopes it’s not.

*****

Sleep never finds Mac.

The storm rages all through the night, but by the time dawn arrives, the thunder and wind dissipate, leaving just the steady downpour. The clouds are dark enough that Mac can hardly tell the sun even bothered to rise this morning.

When Riley’s alarm goes off, it’s like the shrill tone is mocking Mac for being awake. Riley groans as she shuts it off.

“Morning,” he mumbles. His throat hurts. He needs water. “Did you sleep well?”

Another groan. “No.”

“At least you slept,” Mac mutters.

Riley rolls onto her side, drawing one of the extra pillows into her chest. “Do you always toss and turn that much?”

It was his fault, he realizes, that she didn’t sleep. Mac suddenly feels guilty. “Sorry. And no.”

He expects Riley to be upset at being kept awake, but she isn’t. With a look that just might be understanding, she softly asks, “What were you thinking about?”

Mac can’t say that his thoughts whip around his mind like raindrops in last night’s storm. Not without sounding crazy, at least. So instead he says, “I don’t even know. I just have a bad feeling about this.”

“Me too,” Riley admits. “It feels off.” Her eyes are heavy, and Mac’s had enough early mornings with Riley to know it’s not just the lack of sleep weighing her down.

“Go back to sleep. I can handle the delivery.”

Riley rolls her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not letting you do that by yourself.”

He doesn’t argue. “Okay.”

A moment passes between them. It’s been happening more and more lately—holding eye contact a little too long, sharing smirks when no one else is looking, stealing moments where it’s just the two of them and nothing else matters. Each one gives him hope that there’s not a wall between them, but instead, a door. Someone just has to be brave enough to open it.

Sitting up, Riley quipps, “Just don’t make me regret letting you sleep in the bed with me.” Mac snorts.

“No promises.”

~ Tag List ~ Want to be added? Send me an ask.

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#beth writes #macriley #macgyver #macgyver fanfiction #angus macgyver #riley davis #looking through a window au

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bebepac · 3 years

Text

A Quarter For Your Thoughts

This is chapter 6 of Just The Way You are. To catch up on what you’ve been reading click: Just the Way You Are Masterlist

The Book: CROSSOVER: Perfect Match x TRR

Pairing: Hayden x Kai / TRR MC is single (past pairing includes Nico Karahalios)

Word Count: 2489

Summary: Liam walks Riley home after some strange things happens. Even more strange events continue as Liam goes inside Riley’s apartment for the first time. Hayden and Kai have a date night out with Dipper.

Riley, Liam, Hayden, Kai, Chance and Dipper, all belong to Pixelberry, all others are my own characters to help tell our story.

Warnings: Mention of character death, Profanity.

This is my submission for @choicesfebchallenge day #9 Chance. Which I took completely literal.

A/N: DW is at it again. We have two special guest stars in this episode Pops and Mia visit Just The Way You Are, from my series: Pops Place. The dynamic is slightly different as they have crossed into this AU. You’ll see.

Song Inspiration: “If I Could Turn Back The Hands Of Time” R Kelly

I don’t own rights to the Music.

She walked in silence with Liam, holding the quarter tight in her hand. Could Liam have given it to her? It didn't make sense, why or how she got the coin, unless Nico really came to her. But Riley didn't believe in the supernatural, Riley barely believed in God in recent years, her faith completely shaken, and honestly nonexistent after Nico's untimely passing.

The idea of peace of having religion in her life Riley found comforting. However, she hated the idea of the same entity that placed Nico in her life for her to love, had not even two years later ripped him away from her so suddenly, it was cruel. How could something supposedly so good, be so cruel?

He murdered Nico. That's what Donovan Jacobs did when he decided to get behind the wheel of his SUV knowing he should not be driving and him striking Nico's SUV, essentially taking the greatly loved father, son, soon to be fiancé (we know Riley would have accepted his proposal), and best friend. There was hurt and anger in Riley's heart now for it and he was going to feel every bit of it when she gazed upon his face at the trial.

Riley had only seen Donovan's picture in the paper. But trust and believe she hated the man.

"Are you going home Riley? Maybe you should lay down for a bit once you get there."

"That might be a good idea."

"Do you mind if I walk with you? I just don't want you to get dizzy again and be alone."

Riley nodded.

He helped her gather her blanket and guitar. He glanced down seeing a little cop car on his headstone.

"That's cute."

"Nico was a criminal profiler for the NYPD. His son left it."

"You have a son?"

"He's not my blood, but I feel like he's mine. He just turned 10 two months ago. He’s still a very large part of my life. I see him at least several times a week."

"That's good you’ve stayed consistent for him. Often times... when relationships.....end... the kids are left missing the person they got to know."

"He has a lot of father figures in his life now to try to help him cope, my brother and my friends, we make sure he's loved."

"That's noble of your friends."

When they arrived at the apartment she noticed Liam was sweating a little.

"Do you want to come up and cool off for a bit? Maybe have a drink?"

"I don't drink."

"It's barely past noon. I'm not an alcoholic. I meant like lemonade or something."

Liam laughed, "My bad. Sure."

Liam followed Riley to her apartment. Her door was painted a bright pink.

"That's unique."

She glanced at him.

"That means you hate it."

"No it's unique. I like pink. Men can like pink."

He winked at Riley.

Riley opened the door to her apartment.

Putting her keys in the dish beside the door. Riley's apartment was spacious, decorated, nice and neat.

"Here Chance!" She called out to a small Corgi that came running around the corner.

Riley was a few paces in front of Liam. Chance ran right around Riley and barked happily at Liam.

Riley turned around and looked at Liam.

Liam picked up Chance and laughed as he licked his face.

"Hey Buddy."

"He normally doesn't like strangers."

"Yeah I can tell he's absolutely ruthless. You've got quite the attack dog here Riley."

Riley laughed out loud.

He put Chance down.

Chance started rolling over on the floor, in front of Liam, and he had crouched down, giving Chance tummy scratches.

"My attack dog is absolutely worthless! See why I have a conceal and carry? He'd lick our intruder to death."

Liam smiled.

"Well at least he killed them. Kindness might not be the most effective route though."

Riley burst out laughing.

He loved her laugh, and she seemed to like his corny jokes.

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"Sure it's…." Riley's phone rang. She paused to answer.

Liam knew walked down the hallway. He knew exactly where it was.

When he was done he could hear Riley still on the phone. She was speaking in Greek again. He walked into her room glancing around it. It caught the light of the sun. He walked to her night table and on it there was a man's watch.

He picked it up. Maybe she was seeing someone. He turned the watch over finding, it was broken and the time on the watch was 6:32. He knew immediately what he was looking at. Nico's watch, and time the accident happened. He put the watch down and picked up the picture frame. It was Riley, with who he was guessing was Nico, in a cute candid photo. Riley was wearing a blue dress her head tilted back laughing while Nico held her tight in his arms. When his fingers grazed the face of the watch he felt a jolt of electricity go through him causing the watch to drop back on the night table.

Laughter. Riley's laughter was soft in his ear. He wrapped his arms around her while he was wearing the watch.

What the?.... he thought. But it was still working. He noticed the second hand still moving. What is this? Liam thought.

"No, stay in bed with me. Both of us are off today."

That wasn't his voice he thought.

"I'm hungry, I'm going to make us some breakfast. You relax. You work so hard."

He hugged her tightly. "You feed those curves Girl."

Riley got out of bed exposing her naked body to him.

Liam gasped. Holy hell!!! God she was perfect in every way.

Then he heard his voice, but not his voice say..

"I love every inch of your sexy body Riley. You're so beautiful, you're my goddess."

She slipped her robe on. "Well your Goddess says go back to sleep." She kissed his lips softly.

"What are you doing?"

Liam jumped, and could still taste Riley on his lips when he opened his eyes.

He didn't know what happened, following her eyes to the floor. He had dropped her picture frame.

"I'm so….so sorry Riley."

"It's okay, just let me clean it up. You go back to the living room."

Riley was carefully picking up the pieces of glass.

She glanced back at Liam as he walked out the door. Chance followed behind him, like he was his shadow.

When she came back in the room both Liam and Chance looked sad. Chance was sitting on Liam's lap.

"I'm sooo sorry Riley." Liam's voice was so apologetic.

"It's okay Liam. It was an accident." She carried two glasses of lemonade and handed him one.

"Thank you."

"I've never seen Chance so taken with someone."

In minutes, Chance had already fallen asleep in Liam's lap.

"He must recognize dog people. They always had therapy dogs visit when I was in the hospital. Dogs are so good at sensing when you are alone, scared or sad."

"What were you in the hospital for?"

"Not winning the genetic lottery." Liam smiled weakly.

"Are you okay now?"

"Yes, Things are great!"

"My friend Drake says that all the time."

There was something about his life that he wasn't ready to share either. She could relate to that.

Riley changed the subject and they continued to talk. Time flew by. Chance finally woke up.

"Oh thank God," Liam said standing up. "My legs are asleep."

"He does that to me too. Looks like you're his favorite person now."

"Then maybe we should see more of each other at places he might frequent. I guess he can bring you along too, Riley. You know to the dog walking park, the fire hydrant right out front, the vet?”

Riley smiled again.

“Chance you call me when you want to hang out brotha.”

Riley bit her lip. “Maybe Chance would like to have breakfast tomorrow.”

“It is the most important meal of the day I hear. We should start our day off right. Good thinking Chance. I’d like that.”

“Take care of yourself Riley. See you tomorrow Chance.”

Chance barked excitedly.

Riley hurried and changed clothes to get ready to head over to Nico’s mother’s house for dinner.

“I want to get out of the house tonight Hayden. Let’s do something out tonight.”

“There’s a movie on the lawn at the park.”

“What’s playing?”

“Since it's almost Halloween they are doing a Fright Night Series. Stir of Echoes.”

“Oooooh. Spooky I love that one!!!!! What food truck do they have tonight? Please say it’s Pop’s On The Go. I really need you to say it’s Pop’s on the Go.”

“Well Kai I hate to disappoint you, but the food truck they’re having is…. Pop’s On The Go.”

Kai was ready to be disappointed until she had realized fully what he said.

“Pops and Mia are so cute, they banter back and forth together they are adorable. I really wish they had an actual restaurant. I definitely would eat there all the time. His chilli cheese fries are life.”

“So do we want blankets or folding chairs?”

“We want blankets,” they both said in unison smiling at each other.

They got their blankets and headed to the park with Dipper in tow.

“Dipper be a good girl and mommy will give you some chilli cheese fries.”

Dipper barked happily.

“You will not give our baby chilli cheese fries. Has she had chilli cheese fries before?”

Kai shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe?"

“Kai, seriously?”

“She’s got a stomach of rocks like her Momma.”

“Kai…..”

“You love me.”

“Let’s get us our chilli cheese fries. None for Dipper.”

“Hey Pops!”

“Kai! I knew I’d be seeing you tonight! You always seem to make it out this way when our truck is out here.”

“You have the best snacks around Pops. Can we get two orders of chilli cheese fries, with two colas?”

“And I got something for you Dipper.”

Pops took out a box of dog treats.

“Got to make all my customers happy.”

He handed Hayden dog treats for Dipper.

“Thank you Pops.”

“Mia, did you make those shirts?”

Mia nodded.

Pops and Mia were wearing matching shirts. There were also a few hanging on the side of the van.

“You should be in design school, you’d do really well there.”

“It’s just a hobby.”

“Looks like an untapped revenue stream to me.” Hayden responded.

“We’ll also be taking two of your shirts too.”

Mia perked up. “Really?”

“See, I told you people would like them Pops.”

“Yep Pops, you’re looking stylish.”

Pop's stuck his chest out proudly. "She makes me a stylish and proud pops every day!"

Pops gave Mia a smile as she pulled down the shorts they wanted, and bagged them up.

They paid for their food and their shirts and picked a comfy spot on the lawn.

Hayden placed their blankets on the ground while Kai held the food. He set up their large blanket first, and even Dipper got her own Dipper sized blanket to curl up on and in. Dipper quickly curled up on her own little blanket, while Hayden and Kai got settled under the tree.

He loved watching Kai watch movies. She had so many. Hayden had to build another book shelf for Kai's DVD collection. And this movie he had seen with her several times. Kai was engrossed in the movie as if it was her first time watching it.

“And all this happened because he was hypnotized to be more open minded. It’s crazy and I love it!!!”

Kai begrudgingly went to the bathroom seeing Mia walking out.

"Mia! Your shirts you made are truly awesome.”

“Thanks Kai, that means a lot.”

“And I was serious about design school, how old are you now Mia?”

“I’m nineteen.”

“You should be in college sweetheart.”

“Pops needs me. Things have been really hard for us. I used to think about things like college before Mom got sick. She had cancer.”

“She’s in remission?”

“No… she died.”

“I’m so sorry Mia.”

Mia’s eyes filled with tears.

“So my last two years of high school my grades weren’t good. I helped take care of my mom and worked with Pops. I probably couldn’t get into a design school anyway.”

That sweet young girl, that always had a smile on her face every time she saw her, was carrying the weight of the world in her heart.

She hugged Mia.

“You’re going to get the chance to chase your dream Mia. Please don’t give up on it.”

“Thank you Kai, I’ve got to get back.”

Kai headed back over to Hayden embracing him.

“What’s wrong?”

Kai told him about her exchange with Mia.

"I'm gonna call Hana and see if she has some contacts out this way that can see Mia's work.

"That's nice of you Kai."

"Mia's a good kid, she shouldn't have to give up on her dream because her family has had a rough time."

Liam got a text early that next morning. "Chance couldn't make it, and he was wondering if it was okay for Riley to meet him instead?"

"Sure, I guess Riley is an okay substitute, though I was kind of looking forward to hanging out with my main man Chance."

Riley smiled down at the text. What was that feeling she was feeling in her heart. She took a deep breath. She went over to her dresser expecting it to be gone. She imagined it all. But the coin was still there. She put it in her pocket. And headed to the restaurant.

Riley was already there when he got there.

He walked up to her pulling out the chair and sitting across from her.

Her glance shot up at him.

"Um….."

"Hey, how are you doing?"

"Fine… Can I help you?"

"I know I wasn't who you were expecting as a breakfast buddy today."

Liam smiled at his joke. Riley did not.

"I actually wasn't expecting anyone."

"Okay…." He wasn't quite sure what game Riley was playing.

"So are you going to order the same thing or get something different?"

"We don't know each other."

"Riley, you're acting really strange."

"That's your problem right there, I'm not Riley, I'm her sister."

He wondered if this had anything to do with her fainting yesterday.

"Riley, this is weird and teetering on the edge of certifiable. You invited me to breakfast and if you didn't want to meet up, you could have said and pretended to be, oh I don't know your twin sister? Thanks but no thanks."

"Not Riley, corny jokes dude! You seem like just the type she would like."

Liam jumped up from the table heading towards the door. When he saw her. Riley was walking through the door. She smiled at him.

Liam halted in his tracks.

"Hi Liam, I hope I'm not too late. Chance was upset he couldn't make it and I had to cheer him up."

She smiled. Liam looked incredibly confused.

Liam glanced back at the woman sitting at the table. She smirked at him.

"Told you, I'm not Riley." She waved at him.

He turned around to face Riley again.

"So…. I guess you met my twin sister Taylor."

Tagging: @dcbbw @queenjilian @jessiembruno @bbrandy2002 @khoicesbyk @janezillow @sillypapermango @gkittylove99 @gabesmommie1130 @mom2000aggie @jared2612 @shewillreadyou @zoehanji @queenwalton @kingliam2019 @mrsdrakewalkerblog @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @lovablegranny @batgirlassociationofgothamcity @iaminlovewithtrr @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @ladyangel70 @twinkleallnight @kat-tia801 @caseyvalentineramsey @thequeenchoices @yourmajesty09 @secretaryunpaid @sfb123 @neotericthemis @royalromancer @sweatyrysconnoisseur

#bebepac writes #just the way you are #cross over #perfect match #trr au #perfect match fanfic #trr fanfic #perfect match fandom #trr fandom #hayden and kai #liam and riley #choices fic writes creations #choicesfebruarychallenge2021 #choicesfebchallengeday9 #chance #tw character deaths #tw cancer

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spoookymuulders · 3 years

Text

my friends are leaving the party (but i’m down for one more drink)

read it on ao3 here word count: 2,632 summary: you meet a handsome stranger at the bar one night. notes: hello friends!! this is my first attempt at anything avengers-related even though i've been watching the movies since iron man came out??? this is also my first attempt with a reader-insert!! this is after endgame, though (clearly) i've changed up steve's ending a lil bit!! enjoy! <3

It’s a girls night out - at the insistence of one of your very best friends - and you would rather be anywhere else but this bar. Well. Almost anywhere else. You close your eyes for a moment, thinking back to Wednesday night. You’ve been having a shitty week, and walking into your apartment to find your boyfriend butt-ass naked on the couch with your roommate had really been the icing on the cake.

You shake yourself a little, pushing your hair back and putting on a smile as the bartender walks past. He completely ignores you and your smile falls flat as you cross your arms on the bar and rest your forehead on them for a moment. Tonight is supposed to be fun, you remind yourself. Fun . Your friends took you out tonight so you could have a good night and forget about Joshua for a few hours.

You’re vaguely aware of someone occupying the stool beside you, but you ignore them, lifting your head slowly and eyeing the bartender as he comes back your way. You’re ignored again in favor of the new guy next to you, and you press your lips together as the bartender eagerly takes his order. He finally turns to you and you ask for another round of drinks, rolling your eyes as he gives a half-assed response and turns back around.

“Rough night?” Asks the guy beside you. You glance at him, determined to be annoyed with him, but those sparkly blue eyes and that warm smile throw you off completely.

“Rough week.” You say after a minute. He nods, and you take him in for a moment, tipping your head thoughtfully. Something about him is familiar, but you can’t quite place what it is. “My friends wanted to take me out but I don’t particularly wanna be here.”

He hums thoughtfully, nodding his thanks when the bartender sets a beer in front of him. He takes a slow pull, watching you in the mirror behind the bar, and you feel suddenly naked. You shift in your seat, glancing over your shoulder at the booth full of your friends as the bartender sends a waitress over with the drinks. Your phone buzzes in your pocket suddenly and you dig it out. A handful of texts from the groupchat, all along the lines of who’s the blond and are you about to get laid?!

Shaking your head, you shove your phone back into your pocket and turn to your unexpected companion, surprised to find him looking right at you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You say slowly, unsure of what else to do or say. He chuckles, taking another slow sip of his beer before turning his stool to face you properly.

“Why’s your week been so rough?” He asks. You blink - not exactly where you were expecting this conversation to go, but nobody else has asked, so why the hell not?

“Work sucks. I’m stuck in this shitty dead-end job and everywhere else I’ve applied either won’t call me back or requires way more experience than I have.” You sigh. “And on top of that, I came home Wednesday night and found my boyfriend with another girl.” He whistles once, long and low.

“You want me to beat him up?” He asks, and you laugh, surprised at both the joke and yourself. You’ve been in such a shitty mood this week, it feels good to laugh.

“That’s not even the worst part.” You tell him. He raises a brow, and you continue. “I found him totally naked, on my couch with my roommate. Her underwear was flying towards the door as I opened it.” He whistles again, and you nod. “What about you, you look about as miserable as I feel.” He hums thoughtfully, and you can see the wheels turning in his brain as he tries to decide what exactly he wants to say.

“Friend of mine died recently.” He says finally. “Although.. We weren’t exactly friends. I respected him, but we almost never got along or saw eye-to-eye.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” You say, and some bold part of you reaches out and touches his arm gently. He hums again, glancing at you, and you offer a small smile. He gives one in return, and you draw your hand back slowly. “I’m Y/N.”

“Steve.”

****

You’ve been sitting and talking with Steve for at least an hour when your friends finally come over. Michelle tugs at the end of your ponytail lightly, then rests her chin on your shoulder, stepping back when you excuse yourself and turn around.

“We’re gonna take off.” She says, peeking around you at Steve. “D’you need a ride?”

“Uh. No. No, I’m good.” You tell her, glancing over your shoulder and giving Steve a small smile. He tips his bottle in a greeting to the rest of your group as you turn back. Michelle nods and pulls you into a hug.

“Call me when you get home, okay?” She whispers in your ear, “And get some!” You laugh, pushing at her shoulders as she plants a kiss on your cheek and steps away. You wave to the other girls and watch them shuffle along out of the bar, then turn back to Steve.

“I’m not keeping you, am I?” He asks. You shake your head quickly.

“No! No, not at all. They’re probably gonna go home and drink more.” You assure him. “I’m good here.” He nods, smiling a little as you put your chin in your hand. “Plus, I don’t have work tomorrow, so.” He nods again, watching as you twist a lock of hair around your finger absentmindedly. You fall back into an easy conversation, and after what feels like only a few minutes (but in reality is a couple of hours), the bartender is shouting about last call. You check your phone, eyes widening slightly at the time - 2:45 AM.

Steve closes out his tab, insisting on paying for your drinks as well, and you slide off your stool, making sure you have everything before following him outside. Goosebumps rise on your skin as you step into the chilly fall evening, and you suppress a shiver. Steve notices, though, and drapes his leather jacket around your shoulders. You smile up at him and hum a thank you, sliding your arms through the sleeves and reveling in the warmth, the scent of leather and woodsmoke and lavender overwhelming you for a moment as you meander along the street.

“Do you need a ride home?” He asks suddenly, looking down at you. You glance up at him, suddenly reluctant to leave him, and shake your head.

“I only live a couple blocks away.” You say. He hums and nods, and though he doesn’t ask, you can tell he plans on walking you home. You wander for a while, pausing outside a 24-hour pizzeria and peering in through the windows for a moment before slipping inside. Steve trails behind you, watching as you order two slices of cheese pizza. The clerk behind the counter hands you two impossibly large slices on paper plates and you pass one to Steve, paying before scurrying back outside. You wander again for a while before perching on the curb, adjusting your skirt beneath yourself as you sit.

Steve settles beside you, the two of you nibbling at your slices silently, taking in the hustle and bustle of the city - that’s one thing you’ve always loved about New York, even before you’d moved here. Even now, at three in the morning, cars are going by, people are wandering, talking on their phones, chowing down on bar food they managed to sneak out before last call.

“How long have you lived in New York?” Steve asks suddenly, and you realize you’ve been staring around. You shake yourself a little, humming as you think.

“Ten years now.” You tell him. “I moved right after my twentieth birthday. What about you?”

“Mm. Lived here pretty much my whole life.” He says. “I spent a few years in England, but I always dreamed about coming back.” You nod, nibbling at the crust of your pizza.

“What’d you do in England?”

“I was in the army.”

“In England?”

“‘S where they sent me.” He shrugs, and you squint at him for a moment, but you decide to let it go. You hop to your feet, dusting your hands off and tossing your plate into a trash can nearby. Steve does the same, falling into step beside you again, and you begin to make your way home. You come to a stop outside your building, leaning against the wall for a moment and looking up at him. You fight with yourself internally before making a split-second decision.

“D’you wanna come up?” You ask. He watches you, tips his head thoughtfully.

“Are you sure?” He asks, “I wouldn’t wanna intrude-”

“Steve, who are you gonna intrude on? It’s just me. My roommate doesn’t live here anymore.” You say. He laughs at that, light and warm and hearty, and you can’t help the smile that lights on your own lips. He nods finally, and you smile wider, turning to lead him inside and upstairs.

****

You sleep together, but you don’t sleep together. You’ve been up all night already, but even when you get inside you find that you’re not particularly tired. Instead, you toe off your shoes and tell Steve to make himself at home. He hovers in the doorway, watching for a minute as your cat rubs between your legs and you pause long enough to tug your tights off before flopping onto your bed. He chuckles, removing his own shoes and padding further in.

“You can sit down somewhere.” You giggle, propping yourself up on your elbows and watching him. “Seriously. Nosferatu won’t bite. He’s a big baby.”

“Nosferatu?” He repeats, setting his jacket on the arm of the couch and crouching down to let the cat sniff at his fingers.

“Nosferatu.” You confirm, smiling when Nosferatu rubs up against Steve’s hand. He smiles, giving the cat a few gentle strokes before coming to sit beside you. You crawl further up your bed and lean against the headboard, drawing your knees to your chest and resting your chin on them as he shifts to face you.

You chatter for a while, and at some point you disappear into your bathroom and return a few minutes later in a t-shirt-and-shorts pajama set, tying your hair up into a bun. Steve has scooted up to lean against your headboard as well, having abandoned his button-down, and he looks much more comfortable and at home in just a t-shirt and his jeans. You settle beside him, drawing your legs up and leaning against him lightly.

“Tell me something about you that nobody else knows.” You say softly. He hums, settling his arm around your legs lightly and drawing his finger along your shin absently. You put your chin on your fists, watching him as he thinks, and you admire the way the fairy lights catch on his hair and in his eyes, the shadows they cast along his cheekbones and jawline.

“I’ve always wanted a tattoo.” He murmurs. You smile, brushing your fingers through his hair lightly. “I’ve been thinking about getting one lately.”

“What would you get?” You ask softly. He tips his head up, watches the ceiling for a moment as he thinks.

“Something for my mom.” He says finally. “She was incredible. One of the kindest people I ever met.” You nod, leaning your head against his shoulder. “What about you?”

“What, tattoos? I have a couple.” You tell him. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“No, something about you that nobody else knows.” He says. You giggle quietly, watching the world outside your window for a moment as you think.

“I’m not actually allergic to peanuts.” You say finally. “I tell everyone I am ‘cause I don’t like peanut butter, and it’s easier than having to defend why I don’t like it.” Steve laughs again, the sound making your heart flutter, and you laugh too, tucking yourself a little closer.

The two of you sit together for a while longer, talking softly and getting to know each other better by the minute, and before you know it, you’re fast asleep, curled up against the headboard and leaning against this guy that you met just a few hours ago, and you’re happy .

You wake the next morning having scooted down to lay on the mattress properly, and there’s an arm around your waist and a solid chest against your back, and you burrow back into the warmth behind you for a moment before remembering last night. A glance over your shoulder confirms that Steve is still here, and you smile lazily before shifting away slowly, being careful not to wake him.

Having successfully wormed your way out of bed, you grab your phone and pad to the kitchen, popping a K-Cup into your Keurig and setting a mug under it. It spits coffee out as you unlock your phone, surprised to see the number of messages from your friends. You frown thoughtfully, reading through all of them quickly and growing more confused with each one.

Michelle UM DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU WENT HOME WITH LAST NIGHT

Sophie Y/N!!! Y/N ANSWER ME NOW

Claire Dude holy shit.

You frown thoughtfully, texting Claire back a few question marks. She responds with a link to a tweet and you tap it, setting your phone down to prep your coffee while the tweet loads. You turn back, sipping at your caffeine and scoop your phone up - and promptly choke on the coffee as you read the tweet. Setting your mug down, you hurry back to your bedroom, where Steve is sitting up slowly and stifling a yawn. Before he can even say good morning, you’re clambering onto the bed and shoving the phone at him

“You’re Captain America ?!”

He blinks at you a few times, and you feel a little bad for attacking him with this barely thirty seconds after he’s woken up, but holy shit! He takes the phone from you, rubbing at his eyes as he squints at the screen, and you shift your weight anxiously at the foot of the bed. The tweet is from a news outlet and reads America’s Sweetheart? Captain America Spotted With Mystery Woman. It’s accompanied by a photo of you and Steve leaving the bar last night (this morning), you looking smaller than ever in his leather jacket and smiling up at him. He looks up at you and smiles sheepishly, passing the phone back. You take it, acutely aware of the way your hands are shaking, and Steve clears his throat.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask, still completely baffled by this bombshell he’s just dropped on you.

“You didn’t treat me like a superhero.” He says simply, shrugging his broad shoulders. “It was nice not to be.. Put up on a pedestal for once.” You watch him for a moment, take him in - his rumpled t-shirt, his sleepy eyes, and some serious bedhead - and you decide that there’s no way in hell you could possibly be mad at him. If you were a superhero and met someone who didn’t know who the hell you were, you’d do the same thing. You crawl further up the bed and settle yourself in his lap, draping your arms around his shoulders. He sets his hands on your waist lightly, watching you, and you give him a small smile.

“What do you want for breakfast?” You ask, and it’s almost painfully domestic. It is all Steve Rogers has ever wanted, and he smiles at you like you’ve put the sun in the sky.

#mine*#avengers fanfic #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfic #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n

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chocoluckchipz · 3 years

Text

The Other You - 14

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

< Previous

“You’re on a roll, Marinette,” Adrien said, signing on the lines she’d indicated. “Five more completed outfits in a week. At this rate, you’ll be done way ahead of the due date.”

“Quite possibly,” she replied with a smile. “These are a few of the easier pieces, though. Others will take more time.”

“How many do you have left?”

“I think ten complete outfits and a few accessories. But we still have a month before the show, and with Felix by my side, I’m certain we’ll be done in three weeks max.”

“That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“Largely thanks to you.” Marinette smiled at him again, picking up one of two small boxes she’d brought in with her. “Speaking of which—I wanted to thank you for that. It’s not much but I hope you’ll enjoy them.”

Adrien’s eyes widened as Marinette put the box into his hands. A present? From her to him? He could hardly believe it despite how far their relationship had come since he had apologized a few weeks ago. It wasn’t perfect. Far from it. But Marinette stopped avoiding him, and they could even hold a friendly, if short, conversation whenever they met. A present, however, was something beyond any of Adrien’s expectations. He raised the lid and almost gasped, a head-spinning aroma filling the space around him.

“You still like them, don’t you?” Marinette asked, watching his reaction. “Felix said you do, so direct all of your complaints to him.”

“I love eclairs.” Adrien grinned. “Thank you so much.”

“Thank you,” Marinette said, putting a second box on his desk. “Can you also give this to Felix? I got busy finalizing the outfits and forgot to give it to him before he left.”

“Will do.” Adrien peeked into Felix’s box. Macarons. Yum.

“Thank you.” Marinette gathered her papers in a folder and clutched it to her chest. “I’ll be going then. Have a good evening, Adrien.”

“Have a good evening, Marinette.”

The moment the door closed behind her, Adrien dropped into his chair and grinned.

“She’s so pretty,” Duusu flew out of his hiding place. “You two would make such a beautiful couple.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Plagg yelled from his basket. “She hates our boy. He has no chance.”

“She didn’t seem to hate him just now,” Duusu defended. “Tell him, Nooroo. You felt it, didn’t you? She was happy to be here with him.”

“She was,” Nooroo said, munching on a cut of red silk. “But she also was hesitant and cautious. A little scared. Mostly happy, though.”

“Quit it, guys,” Adrien interrupted. “She’s happy because she’s on track with her work. Hesitant, cautious and scared because it takes a while to restore trust with a history as complicated as ours. That’s it. There is nothing more. There could be nothing more. I don’t think I’ve reached a ’friend’ tier yet, much less anything higher. And it’s not like I’m trying for anything above friendship either. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a ton of work to deal with before we can leave.”

Leaning over his desk, Adrien got back to the paperwork he was reviewing before Marinette came. With a mischievous grin, he reached into one of the boxes and popped an eclair straight into his mouth. They baked them together the previous night, but Marinette didn’t tell Chat that it was a present for her boss. Should he tease her about that?

“I bet five wheels of Camembert you want there to be something more.” Plagg plopped in front of him, a piece of his stinking cheese in his paws.

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. “Wha—Plagg. No. You know I love Ladybug.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you had this sad, longing look on your face when you said, ‘there is nothing more’.”

“No, I didn’t,” Adrien protested. “Marinette’s just a friend.”

Plagg quirked an eyebrow. “A friend you spend most of your day with—as Felix by day and as Chat Noir by night. There’s barely any time left when you aren’t with her.”

“That’s just how things worked out for now. Nothing I can do about it.”

“Nothing you would do,” Plagg challenged. “Because you’re enjoying your time with your ‘just a friend’ way too much to change anything.”

Adrien leaned back into his chair. Of course, he enjoyed his time with Marinette. He wouldn’t even bother to deny that because there was absolutely nothing wrong or weird about it. Marinette fed him delicious, homemade food daily, their dinners always filled with laughter and warmth. After years of surviving on prepackaged, frozen cuisine and local take-out, Adrien more than appreciated that. Since ‘Felix’ showed up, Marinette had stopped taking work home, which allowed them time to challenge each other in video games or watch an occasional movie after dinner. Adrien hadn’t done either of those in years. Not with a friend, at least.

Why should he change anything about their situation? Why would he? Marinette was wonderful and fun and absolutely amazing. So much that Adrien found himself dreading having to go home on multiple occasions already. She was warmth and light. She accepted him just the way he was, bad jokes and untimely puns, his dorkiness and love for anime. Being with her, he could be himself, spare revealing his civilian name, of course. Marinette felt like the home Adrien never had. There were even a few nights he’d accidentally fallen asleep on her couch, so cozy and comfortable he felt at Marinette’s. The first time that happened, Chat had forced himself up and away as soon as he woke up in the middle of the night, covered by a blanket. In all of the following cases though, Chat was having trouble doing so before the light of the rising sun peeked above the horizon. He reasoned that as long as he left before Marinette was up, it was all good.

There was one thing Adrien would definitely change, though. If he could.

‘Felix’.

A shiver ran across Adrien’s skin at the slightest memory because, unfortunately enough, he was able to remember everything that was happening during his ‘akuma’ times. Even now, Adrien could recall that overwhelming, insatiable desire to help and please Marinette coursing through his veins upon akumatization. Completely overpowered by it, ‘Felix’ could hardly control his actions. Yes, he helped with making outfits, courtesy of the real Felix being a great professional. However, it didn’t stop there.

‘Felix’ constantly flirted with and complimented Marinette. For the sole purpose of giving her a confidence boost, of course. He chatted nonstop about everything and anything so she wouldn’t feel lonely. He cracked jokes and punned to brighten her mood and make her smile. He did everything she could potentially want. And Adrien meant everything. Lunchtime was approaching? ‘Felix’ was setting the table and delivering the food he knew Marinette liked plus a surprise item from the cafeteria just in time for her break. Her cell phone chimed? He was holding it out to her a second later. She had to leave the room? He was opening the door. Marinette mentioned she was thirsty or even looked like she could use a drink? ‘Felix’ was already holding at least three different bottles he’d just bought from the vending machine down the hallway for her to choose from. Marinette needed to stand up, he was right there offering her a hand. Marinette needed to use the washroom… Yup, he opened the door for her, walked her down the hallway and had the sense to ask how it went and if she was feeling better.

And he did all of it with that serious, mostly emotionless face his cousin always wore around anyone other than his family.

Banging his head on the desk, Adrien groaned. He had never been so embarrassed in his life. The whole situation was humiliating and mortifying for both of them. He even debated giving up on this crazy idea of his after the initial trial run, but in the end, Adrien couldn’t bring himself to do so. Marinette needed him, and he wouldn’t be the man he thought himself to be if he couldn’t bear some humiliation in order to help a friend in need. Thankfully, after establishing some boundaries which ‘Felix’ had a really hard time respecting, Marinette seemed to have gradually gotten used to ‘Felix’s’ wacky ways. Or at least she had told Chat Noir so, who was sure to ask her as often as possible about what she thought of her new assistant and if he needed his butt kicked.

His phone chimed, bringing Adrien out of his mental ordeal.

Nino: Hey. I know our lunch didn’t go that well last time, but would you like to grab another one? I want to try that apology one more time.

Adrien let out a puff of air, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Nino never had been one to give up easily on anything he really cared about. After having had some time to cool down himself, Adrien’s initial anger and resentment subsided, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to give up on Nino either. Especially not after his former best friend put aside his pride and reached out first.

Adrien: Sure. You do owe me a meal since I paid for the last one.

Nino: How does Saturday sound? Around noon? The same place?

Adrien: It’s a date.

“You haven’t had enough?” Plagg snarked from Adrien’s shoulder.

“Quite the opposite,” Adrien replied, relaxing in his seat. “I’ve had enough. I’ve been angry and resentful for years and I’m tired of that. I’ll meet with Nino again and if everything works out, I’ll get a friend. If not, closure doesn’t sound half bad. In any case, anything would be better than continuing the way I’ve been going up until now. Don’t you think so?”

Plagg grumbled.

“It’s a wise decision,” Nooroo spoke up. “Though I must admit I hope you can make it work. You feel lonely rather often, Master. Some friends will do you good.”

“He’s got me,” Plagg huffed. “Who else could he need?”

“Social interaction is an essential part of human existence, Plagg,” Nooroo replied. “And from what I’ve seen so far, Adrien would greatly benefit from having human friends in addition to kwamis.”

“Oh, you mean like Marinette?” Plagg snickered, glancing at Adrien. “She’s a really great friend to you, Adrien, isn’t she?”

“Not yet,” Adrien responded absentmindedly, returning to his paperwork once again.

In the last few weeks, the kwamis had taken a liking to discussing his personal life and choices, with Plagg inevitably being the one to criticize his every move. At first, Adrien had fought back, trying to justify himself. However, as time passed, he realized that it was futile and gave up, learning to ignore them instead. Adrien figured they’d lose interest eventually, and the less he played along, the faster that would happen. “We’re more in ‘not enemies anymore’ territory.”

“But you do want her to be your friend again, don’t you?”

“I already consider her a friend. It’s only a matter of her accepting Adrien-me as one at this point.”

“So why don’t you do anything to help that happen?” Plagg asked, floating right in front of Adrien’s face. “You’re going to lunch with Nino to rekindle your friendship. Ask Marinette to lunch as well. I’m sure it’ll help her to warm up to you faster.”

“I’m already spending lunches with Marinette every day.”

“As ‘Felix,’ which is unfair if you ask me.”

Adrien put his papers away and looked at Plagg. “How so?”

The kwami started to pace in a circle in midair with a smug grin on his face. “Well, by spending almost all of your day around her as Chat Noir and Felix, you’ve had a chance to get to know Marinette better. As a result, you want to be friends with her again. She, on the other hand, thinks she’s spending her time with three different people, Adrien receiving the least of her attention. How in the world is she going to decide if she wants to be friends with you if she has no opportunity to get to know you? It’s not like you’re going to reveal your identities to her, are you?”

Adrien hummed. Plagg had a point. He had been rediscovering this new, more mature, but just as fun as ever Marinette all this time. Still as brave and fearless. Kind, compassionate and fun. Creative and beautiful. He already considered her his friend again. For her, though, Adrien had barely moved from “enemy” to “can tolerate him” territory. At least that was what Adrien had gathered from the way Marinette behaved around him and what little she let slip around Chat. Perhaps Plagg had a good idea for once, and Adrien needed to spend more time with Marinette as himself if he wanted her to give him a real chance.

“And what do you propose I do?”

“I already told you,” Plagg groaned. “Ask her out to lunch. Easy.”

“Yes! Ask her to lunch, Master,” Duusuu added. “It’ll be so romantic.”

Adrien frowned. “Good point. I should make sure she knows it’s a friendly lunch and not a date, or she’ll never accept. Maybe I should make it work-related? Then she'd be more likely to agree, right?”

“Absolutely.” Plagg grinned. “But that means ‘Felix’ would need to leave before lunch that day, wouldn’t he?”

Adrien narrowed his eyes at the kwami. “You’re doing this only so you can de-akumatize me, aren’t you?”

Plagg’s grin widened before he dramatically gasped. “How could you think that about me? Really, Adrien? After everything we’ve been through?”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow.

“Nooooo.” Plagg faked disappointment. “Do you really think I enjoy tickling you to the point of forcing you to escape the office to make me pay for it?”

Adrien glared. “Marinette thinks ‘Felix’ has some kind of health issue thanks to you.”

“You told me yourself to do ‘whatever it takes’ to get you out of that room, didn’t you?” Plagg responded with a look of utmost innocence on his face. “And is this what I get for my hard work? Do you even realize how hard it is to get you away from her? You should be thanking me, not complaining.”

“Don’t count on it.” Adrien sighed, turning his attention back to his papers. “Okay. I’ll ask her to lunch. Now, leave me alone. I have work to do.”

“As you wish,” Plagg grinned and flew away.

Adrien tried to work, struggling to concentrate for some time. Asking Marinette to lunch as Adrien was probably not a good idea, but Plagg was right. If he wanted to make any progress in his goal of renewing their friendship, he had to do something as Adrien as well. Lunch sounded easy and innocent enough.

***

The aroma alone was making him dizzy. Gosh, he wondered if that rent fee was a smart choice after all because one of these days he was sure Marinette was going to kill him with the deliciousness of her food. That or he’d get addicted and become her slave for a meal a day. He couldn’t let her know, though. After all, he was Chat Noir, the hero of Paris and the coolest cat in the city. He forced himself to forgo the ode to her food he’d prepared and simply ask her instead, “What smells so good, Princess?”

“Navarin D’Agneau,” Marinette replied with a smile. “Would you mind cutting the bread, Chat? I can’t leave this pot alone.”

“Of course.”

“Wash your paws first.”

“Do I look like I have a death wish to touch your food with dirty hands?” Chat chuckled and dodged Marinette’s attempt to smack his shoulder. He stuck his tongue at her. “Missed me. Better luck next time.”

“Real mature of you, Chat.” Marinette laughed. “What are you, five?”

“No. But I’m eternally young.”

“I can see that. Before you get to that bread, can you pass me that ladle?”

“Your wish is my command.” He bowed and, after carefully washing his hands, passed her the utensil.

“Dork.” Marinette giggled as she ladled their meal into bowls. “Finish the bread and we’re ready to go.”

“Right. Already on it.”

How they fell into this easy routine, he didn’t know, but their dinners slowly morphed into them preparing the meal together instead of Marinette cooking for him. Not that Chat was helping much, but it felt good not to be useless in the kitchen. It also meant he could head over straight after work, instead of waiting for nine o’clock. He could always claim he had come early to help.

Their conversations had evolved as well as they discussed their days and cracked jokes like a pair of old friends. ‘Felix’ and his antics were a constant in their discussions. However, today it was a different man that Marinette was talking about.

“My boss asked me to lunch,” she said as they were nearly finished with their meal. “I couldn’t say no because he used the work excuse, but I don’t really know how I feel about it.”

Chat swallowed his food. “Why? I thought you didn’t hate the guy anymore?”

Marinette pursed her lips. “No. I wouldn’t say I hate him. He apologized and we talked and cleared all the misunderstandings, so I guess we’re good in that respect.”

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’.”

She hummed. “There is. Even with everything resolved, I don’t think I’m ready to jump back into friendship territory with him yet, but I feel like this is where he wants to be already.”

Chat’s shoulders slumped. Plagg was right. Marinette didn’t see Adrien as a potential friend yet. Perhaps he’d rushed with the whole lunch thing.

“You should’ve just told him that,” he murmured, focusing back on his bowl. “I’m sure he would’ve understood.”

“He’s my boss, Chat. And he’s been helping me with my collection even though it isn’t essential to Gabriel’s success during Fashion Week. I can’t refuse him something as simple as lunch.”

“But you shouldn’t have to force yourself to have lunch with someone you aren’t comfortable with, even if he is your boss,” Chat said, already thinking of how he could cancel on Marinette without making her suspect a thing or making her uncomfortable. “Tell him you’re busy. He used work to invite you, so use work to refuse the invitation.”

She took a few moments to reply, but when she did there was a smile on her lips. “Nah. I’ll go. He’s been trying really hard to atone for his mistakes, so maybe I should also try to make up for mine. Getting lunch together sounds easy enough and seems like a good opportunity to see if we could be friends again one day.”

He stilled. “Are you sure?”

Marinette nodded. “Positive. What’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like he’s going to fire me or anything.”

Chat grinned. “I’m sure he won’t. You’re way too pretty and talented to be fired. Not to mention an amazing cook. Bring him some pastries and he’ll be putty in your hands forever.”

Marinette giggled. “You’re such a professional flatterer, Chat. I bet you can give Felix a run for his money in that department.”

“I’m sure I can. What do I get if I win?”

“What do you want?”

“Another chance to kick your ass in UMS.”

There was a glint in Marinette’s eyes as her lips stretched wide in a grin. “You don’t have to win a prize for that. You’re so on, Chat Noir.”

“Prepare to be vanquished, Princess. I’ve been practicing.”

“Dream on. You’re going down. Loser washes the dishes.”

“Best of five wins.”

“I’m turning the console on.”

“I’m cleaning the table.”

“Let the battle begin!”

***

Two victories, three lost games, and one session of washing the dishes later, Chat Noir lingered at Marinette’s place as long as he could. He would’ve stayed for another hour or two, but he only had so many excuses to use. Around midnight, Marinette shoved him out the window, claiming she had to wake up early the next day.

“You still have your patrol to do, don’t you? Go. Don’t make Ladybug wait,” she ordered.

The truth was, Ladybug was the last person Chat Noir wanted to see right now. Don’t get him wrong—he still loved her. He just couldn’t look her in the eyes, knowing that he was keeping secrets from her. It was more than Chat could handle at the moment. Revealing said secrets was out of the question as well because that was sure to bring up conversations he wasn’t ready for. Not to mention Ladybug, as the Guardian, would want Nooroo and Duusu back in the Miracle Box and Chat couldn’t let that happen yet. Marinette’s show was scheduled for the end of August. She needed ‘Felix’ in the meanwhile. This time frame would also give Chat time to prepare for an inevitable reveal of his and Hawkmoth’s identities. Until then, though, Chat Noir was doing his best to avoid his partner because lying to her was something he couldn’t do, and keeping secrets from her was something he wished he didn’t have to do.

After racing as fast as he could through his patrol route—so as not to meet his partner—Chat Noir headed home, thoughts of Marinette and their impending lunch on his mind. He had to do his best for her to feel comfortable and safe around him. He couldn’t scare her away now, not after Marinette’s friendship had somehow migrated to the top of his priorities. He had no idea how that happened or even why, but if Adrien could make it a reality, he’d be damned if he didn’t give it his best effort.

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#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #marichat #adrienette #the other you #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #chat noir #ladybug #miraclous #tales of ladybug and cat noir

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a-deadly-serenade · 3 years

Text

Alchemy Between You & Me: Chapter 1: Arsenic [Guy of Gisborne/Reader]

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27362053/chapters/66860944

“Come now, we don’t want to be late!”

Your mother ushered you forward with a firm push on the back and you glared at her in response.

“I doubt we’ll be sorely missed if we’re a few minutes late, mother,” you replied sharply and sat down on the opposite side of the coach, away from your parents.

“You don’t know this sheriff,” she huffed. “He is a very punctual man, does not like to be kept waiting.”

“Well, I find it hard to believe that he’ll be eagerly awaiting my esteemed arrival,” you grumbled and focused your attention outside to peruse the scenery that slowly trickled by as the carriage made its way through the forest.

“Actually, you’ll find that several acquaintances on the council are quite interested in meeting you,” your father said.

“Really?” you replied, one of your eyebrows raised skeptically. “And why’s that?”

“Do you think we’ve gone this whole time without mentioning you?” your mother gawked.

“So you aren’t ashamed of your unmarried daughter who is currently pursuing academics instead of a husband?”

“Of… of course not,” she replied and cleared her throat as her eyes darted away from your annoyed stare.

“They’ve been most fascinated in this talk of you performing alchemy,” your father added with a hearty chuckle. “It’s becoming quite the trend for some within the ranks to try their hand at turning cheap metals into gold.”

“Father, I’ve already told you that no alchemist has ever accomplished such a thing,” you replied. “Think of it as an auspicious rumor and nothing more.”

“Nonsense! I’m sure they just haven’t discovered it yet!” he gave you a big grin and took hold of your shoulder to give it an endearing squeeze. “I bet you could though!”

You gave an awkward chuckle. “Right…”

The remainder of the ride was filled with menial chit-chat on the part of your parents as they tried to play catch up on the finer details of what you did during your time abroad. You were frankly relieved when the carriage was pulled to a stop and the coachman announced that you had arrived.

Stepping out of the carriage you are greeted by an enormous castle, its stone walls stretching high into the sky, locking you in. The plaza was filled with a dozen other horses and carriages and a few guards stationed nearby came over to greet you and your family.

“Welcome to Nottingham,” one said and the two bowed before you. “I trust you’re here for the sheriff’s private dinner party?”

“Yes,” your mother replied. “We aren’t late are we?”

“Not at all!” the other guard said. “If you would follow us, we shall escort you to the great hall.”

“Wonderful!” she grinned and took a tight hold of your arm. “Now, I shouldn’t have to remind you to be on your best behavior, yes?”

“Of course,” you replied curtly and flinched when she squeezed tighter for one second more before relinquishing her grip and following your father’s lead up the stairs.

With a heavy sigh, you followed after them. Heading down several hallways and a set of stairs, the two guards offered your family one last curtsy before they pushed open the large wooden doors and announced your arrival.

Down below, several rows of tables had been set up and they were filled with an assortment of foods. There were rich cuts of venison and pork, wheels of cheeses and baskets of fresh bread. Bowls of fresh fruit and platters of baked goods also intermingled amongst all of the savory options, and several servant boys and girls weaved through the crowd, each holding a pitcher filled with aged wine.

As you neared the bottom of the stairs, you heard someone exclaim,

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite nobles with their notable daughter,”

Your father chuckled and he and your mother both bowed before a short, balding man with a greying beard wearing luxurious black robes.

You quickly followed suit and you heard the man laugh to himself.

“Come, we are all friends here, let us dispense with such formalities,” he said and came closer to you. “Is this your little scholar? Hmm?” he asked and gestured to you.

“Yes, my lord,” your mother replied. “She has only just returned from Bologna.”

“Bologna?” he echoed. “Why I’ve heard they’re only second to Paris in terms of their education. But,” he tutted and a mischievous grin spread across his face. “I thought students were granted the status of a cleric by canon, yet here you stand, an educated woman.”

“Oh, well,” she laughed nervously. “She… she was only taught the basics by a friend of ours, a local professor at the university, nothing having to do with the seven liberal arts,” she feigned stupidly.

“Shame,” he quipped. “It’d be nice to discuss the semantics of moral philosophy with someone. I thought you claimed she was trained in alchemy?”

“Did you tell everyone in England that I was a training alchemist?” you snapped.

The man before you laughed. “Spirited! My last alchemist was a meek disappointment, I like it when they have a bit of fire in them.”

You grimaced and scoffed internally. This man was making you severely uncomfortable.

“Oh, but where are my manners?” he said dramatically and suddenly took a hold of your hand. “I am Vasey, lord of this castle and the town of Nottingham. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the lovely young lady that has managed to capture my interest.”

You felt your skin crawl and it took all the power within you to manage to flash him a shaky, crooked smile. “So,” you said softly and swallowed a lump in your throat. “You must be the sheriff.”

He grinned in response, the sight of a glittering jewel on his left incisor catching your attention.

“At your service. I’d love to have a chat with you later, my dear, but I won’t keep you from the festivities. Come,” he finally turned away from you to flourish at the literal feast decked out on the tables. “Eat, drink. Take this as a humble offering of friendship.”

“‘Humble’? You are much too gracious, my lord,” your father replied and the sheriff snickered at his praise.

“Yes, yes. Tell me, my friend, how have things been?” the sheriff wrapped an arm around your father’s shoulders and led him away from you and your mother as they started to discuss something in private.

“Well, that went better than expected,” your mother muttered and grabbed your arm again as she took you to a nearby table with a few empty seats.

A plate of food was all but shoved into your face and although you weren’t particularly hungry, you had an inkling that you should stomach something, lest appear ungrateful.

You picked at some roasted vegetables, but were grateful for the variety of cheeses available, and paired with the never-ending wine, you were able to find yourself somewhat satiated.

Taking a few more sips from your goblet, you felt your nerves begin to dissipate and you sighed as you leaned back into your chair.

Your mother was making meaningless conversation with a few other noblewomen beside her and your father, who had long since returned from his escapades with the sheriff, stood nearby, surrounded by a group of men who were all laughing and uproariously shouting about lord knows what.

Frankly, you did not wish to be pulled into either realm of their faux-pas spectacles so you quickly excused yourself and went over to admire one of the centerpieces. Yes, you were that bored and that stubborn.

How much longer do we have to stay here and play nice? you thought. The idea of having to speak with the sheriff again made your stomach tie into knots and you sincerely hoped that he’d get so wrapped up in everyone else vying for his attention that he’d forget about you.

You let your fingers trail across the beautiful bird feather that stuck out of the bouquet of flowers and heaved a heavy sigh.

The more you dwelled on it, the clearer it became that the only reason your parents had ushered you home as quickly as they did, was solely due to your most recent academic undertaking. During your time in Bologna, they hardly sent any correspondence back on updates about your other studies, such as literature or astronomy or even philosophy. However, as soon as you picked up a skill that could be monetized? Their tune switched almost instantly.

Although you had always had a tumultuous relationship with your parents, it saddened you that they viewed this skill of yours as nothing more than an opportunity to further their status. You were an alchemist, someone dedicated to discovering the mysteries of the universe… not a modern-day Midas that could turn piss-poor metals into gold.

Even tonight seemed to be a ploy of some sort. Had they only brought you along because the sheriff was so interested in you? What did they hope to accomplish?

You frowned and folded your arms across your chest. Something didn’t feel right, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it…

“Excuse me?”

You paid no mind to whoever had just spoken, lost in your own thoughts as you attempted to deduce your parent's plan.

“Excuse me? My lady?”

Ugh, you inwardly groaned when you realized they were talking to you. I suppose I can endure one conversation… you thought and hoped it would at least pass the time by.

Turning around you feel your heart skip a beat when you find a man standing before you, a rather handsome man, you might add.

He was tall, fair-skinned with short black hair that framed his sharp face. His bright blue eyes seemed to shine in the candlelight and he gave you a smile that made butterflies dance in your stomach.

“I apologize,” he said and his deep baritone made you gasp quietly in delight. “I did not disturb you, did I?”

“Oh no,” you quickly replied with a shake of your head. “No, I was… simply lost in my own thoughts for a moment. I should be the one apologizing. It was you who called out to me a moment ago, was it not?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I merely wanted to introduce myself,” he explained. “I am Sir Guy of Gisborne, the sheriff’s master at arms.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Guy,” you replied and flashed him a charming smile as you introduced yourself.

“What a lovely name,” he said and you felt heat rise into your cheeks at his compliment. “I thought it appropriate we meet as I wished to see for myself just who this infamous alchemist the sheriff kept heralding was.”

“Oh,” you replied and tried to mask your disappointment. So he was only interested in getting into your favors to please the sheriff… you supposed you should have anticipated this happening.

“I am curious to know what drew you to the field,” he said. “I heard you studied in Bologna. Do they offer alchemy as a class?”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you could not help the laughter that erupted from you. “What? A class? No,” you chuckled. “No, most schools are run and sourced by the church and I can’t exactly say that the church is the biggest fans of us alchemists.”

“Really?” he mused. “And why is that?”

“We seek to understand the meaning of our place in this world,” you explained. “One of the duties of an alchemist is to answer the great questions of mankind and I suppose trying to scientifically discover the meaning of life goes against the morals of the church.”

“Do your discoveries stray from God, my lady?” he asked you with a smirk.

“I doubt blasphemy is an appropriate conversation to hold over dinner, Sir Guy,” you replied just as playfully and bit your lip as he laughed.

“Just as well,” he said. “I’m simply surprised. You are so young, I never would have imagined a lovely woman such as yourself would find interest in the sciences.”

“Believe me,” you replied. “Transmutation and metallurgy are far more fascinating than playing the role of the dutiful daughter.”

“You’ve quite the sharp tongue,” he commented and you felt your face turn hot. “Are the churches in Europe far more progressive?”

“Only if they’re paid enough to be,” you replied in a whisper and giggled at the devilish smirk that spread across his lips.

This night was turning out to be more fun after all! It was a first for you to hold a conversation with a man that wasn’t immediately off-put by your wits. Not only that, he could hold his own and was not offended by your rather dicey sense of humor. Where had men like Guy been hiding out for all these years?

“Ah, Gisborne!”

The sound of the sheriff’s voice instantly soured your mood and you frowned. Well, tonight had been turning around…

Vasey paled in comparison to Guy’s stature however, in spite of this, Guy’s previous confident demeanor seemed to shrink under the sheriff’s intense gaze.

“I see you’ve found the belle of the ball,” he snickered and you laughed awkwardly in response. “I’m not surprised you came sniffing around here.”

“Sir Guy was merely introducing himself, my lord,” you replied. “He’s been engaging company,” you offered Guy a shy smile at his surprised expression.

“Gisborne? Engaging?” the sheriff chortled. “Well, that’s a first. Unless, of course, he jumped straight into discussing his own experiment.”

“Experiment?” you asked with a raise of your eyebrows. “You conduct experiments, Sir Guy?”

“Only one,” he replied and awkwardly shifted where he stood. “But, that was some time ago.”

“Yes, and it did not end all too well either,” the sheriff scowled. “Tell me, my dear, have you heard of black powder?”

“I can do you one better,” you said matter-of-factly. “I know how to make black powder.”

The sheriff’s eyes widened in shock and he gasped in delight. “You do?” he said softly and then grabbed your hands, holding them reverently as if silently blessing you. “Remarkable, absolutely remarkable.”

“Is… that what your experiment was?” you wondered, hoping that your question would get the sheriff away from you as soon as possible.

It seemed to work and he relinquished his grip to take a step back and nod his head. “Yes. Gisborne here had been in charge of commissioning someone but, unfortunately, he,” the sheriff dragged his finger across his neck and then shrugged his shoulders. “Took his secrets to the grave.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call the formula for black powder a secret,” you replied with a coy smile. “It’s been known by the Cathay Empire since at least the ninth century.”

“So you’re telling me, that if given the right ingredients, you would be able to cook me up a batch of black powder?” the sheriff asked.

“Of course, it’s a simple combination of charcoal and sulfur and—“

Vasey instantly hushed you on any further talk about this formula but assured you that your enthusiasm was very much appreciated.

“This is good,” he grinned. “This is very good. I should have known you’d be the perfect fit ever since your parents first mentioned you.”

You are clearly confused by his words, your face scrunched up together as you gazed upon him skeptically. “‘Perfect fit’? What are you talking about?”

“Oh,” he hummed. “Did mommy and daddy not tell you? That does add a bit of suspense to it then, hmm?” he laughed. “You, my dear, are to be my alchemist.”

“What?” you blurted out and started to laugh at the utter absurdity of the idea. However, any previous ideas of the sheriff lightheartedly joking evaporated into a puff of smoke when you took one long look at him.

Oh. He was serious.

“What do you mean I’m to be your alchemist?” you said carefully, your eyes narrowed only slightly.

“Do you think I just let anyone come to these private dinners of mine? A clue?” he shook his head. “No. I wanted to see for myself if you were as noteworthy as your parents heralded you to be and thankfully for you,” he took an imposing step forward and poked you in the chest with one of his stubby fingers. “You’ve passed.”

“My… my parents agreed to this?” you muttered and dread pooled into the pit of your stomach as your eyes whirled around in search of them.

They were nowhere to be found! Had… had they simply brought you here to be assessed by the sheriff? You weren’t something that could be passed around from one person to the next! You weren’t cattle!

“Where are they?” you seethed and the sheriff seemed to take an uncomfortable amount of glee in your anger.

“Their business is complete, my dear. My best guess is that they’re off to head back home.”

He made no effort to stop you as you shoved past him and raced up the stairs to make it to the courtyard.

Your heavy breaths fogged up in the chilled night air and the white light of the moon caused an eerie glow to fall on the shadows of the nearby coaches. You could hear a pair of voices whispering in a hushed tone as you neared your family’s personal carriage, anger coursing through your veins when you rounded the corner and came face-to-face with your parents.

“What have you done?” you snarled, catching them both by surprise.

“Darling!” your mother exclaimed and gave you a nervous smile. “What… what are you doing here? Surely you do not wish to miss the last half of the supper?”

“Save the act, mother,” you replied bitterly. “He already told me.”

“Told you what?”

The fact that she still tried to play innocent made your blood boil and you exclaimed, “He told me that I am to be his personal alchemist!” your feet stomped across the hard stone and you pointed an accusatory finger at the pair of them. “I am not some commodity to be passed around! First Bologna, now this? If you wanted me gone, at least spare me the theatrics and tell me outright.”

“Why would you say such a thing?” your father interjected. “You know we only want what is best for you!”

“That’s rich,” you replied sardonically.

“Watch your tongue, missy,” your mother snapped.

“No,” you quipped. “Do not lie and say that this decision was made with my best interests in mind when you and I both know that this is yet another cog in playing your roles as the sheriff’s loyal lapdogs—"

Smack!

The sound of a palm striking across bare skin rings out into the deathly quiet pavilion.

Your eyes are wide with shock and you feel tears start to well up and cloud your vision as you place a hand on your bruised cheek.

Your father huffed as he lowered his hand and gave you a menacing glare. “Now, I tolerated this attitude of yours when you returned from Bologna, believing you were scorned having been taken away from your studies prematurely. But this willfulness stops now. You are going to work for Vasey and that’s final,” he turned away to begin hauling himself into the carriage.

“Perhaps he will be the one to finally beat this resilience out of you.”

Your mother said nothing but her cold, piercing stare revealed all that you needed to know as she followed after your father.

When the carriage pulled out of the castle portcullis and receded from your view down the winding road of Nottingham, you released an arduous sigh.

You were silent as you ran in the direction of a nearby wall, hidden in the shadows and away from prying eyes. You rested your forehead against the stone, its natural chill cooling your heated skin. It was only then, did you allow the tears to fall.

You gasped as a torrent of tears streamed down your face and you weakly slammed your fist against the stone wall.

They had abandoned you… again.

You slowly crumbled into a heap on the floor, tucking your knees into your chest as you wiped away your tears with your sleeve. Were you the one to blame here? You always prided yourself on your sense of independence and headstrong attitudes, but could this have been your very undoing?

Bologna, you thought, despite giving your parents this newfound opportunity to brag about having an alchemist in the family, had not been nearly as successful in stomping out your spirit as initially hoped. Was Nottingham supposed to take its place then?

While you had been in Italy, for a brief moment, you almost felt in control of your life. The opportunity to both grow academically and spiritually had been life-changing. Your mind has been opened to the endless possibilities and questions that encompassed the human spirit and it was with this newfound knowledge that you were able to finally act independently.

Your whole life up until that point had been dictated by your parents, from what you wore, to what you ate, to even the company you kept. It took being sent thousands of miles away from home to make you truly feel alive.

However, you should have known that this feeling of boundless freedom was never meant to last. Sooner or later they would have you crawling back to England, willingly or not, and once again, it was impossible to not feel both incredibly powerless and incredibly frustrated.

You’d had your first taste at real purpose, one that you pursued wholeheartedly, and now that had been stolen from you as well.

No matter how hard you vied for change, the end result was always the same and an overwhelming sadness encompasses you at this realization, one that settles into the very marrow of your bones.

You took a gander up at the night sky, the stars twinkling brightly alongside the white light of the moon. Your eyes fluttered shut as you took a deep breath, your shoulders sagging from exhaustion as the reality of the situation caught up with you.

This… was your home now, this was your life now. You supposed it could be worse but you doubted that the sting left behind from this sense of betrayal would ever leave your bruised heart.

The sound of metal spurs clicking against the stone caught your attention and you're rooted to the spot as a figure emerged from the shadows and towered above you.

“Are you alright?”

Your eyes widened in surprise when Sir Guy appeared in the moonlight, his face creased with worry as he kneeled down before you.

Turning your head away from him, you cough into the crook of your arm and wave off his concern.

“Yes, I’m… I’m alright,” you said softly, trying to hide the tremble in your voice. “I just needed some time alone.”

He’s quiet and you hear the leather of his pants squeak as he adjusts his footing. “Do you wish to be alone?” he wondered. “The sheriff was worried when you did not return, so he sent me after you. I can tell him that you already went off to bed if you’d like.”

Your lips upturned into a smile and although your eyes were surely red and your cheeks surely puffy, you turned to face him to express your gratitude.

“That’s very kind of you, Sir Guy. I do not think I would be able to face the sheriff in the near future.”

“I’m assuming you spoke to your parents?”

You sighed and titled your head up to look back up at the dozens of stars that dotted the night sky. “Was it that obvious?” you replied dryly. “I was left with no say in the matter. It appears as though this had been their plan all along,”

“I hope you understand that you will not be treated as a prisoner here,” he said and you scoffed in response.

“Then why does it feel like it?”

You nearly jump out of your skin when Guy places a tentative hand on your shoulder and you look at him, absolutely bewildered.

“I apologize… if this isn’t exactly the life you envisioned. However, I assure you that life here in the castle isn’t completely unbearable.”

“Oh?” you said and felt yourself relax when you picked up the sudden playfulness in his tone.

“Once in a while, you’ll meet someone that turns this place around,” he said with a knowing smile and you laughed.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “I doubt even your charming company could help me warm up to this place.”

“It’s not all bad,” he said and you would be remiss to say that you weren’t disappointed when he removed his hand from your shoulder.

“Since Nottingham is at the center of this shire, all of the villages are in relatively close proximity. It’s a nice escape to visit every once in a while.”

“Would the sheriff even allow me to go anywhere?” you asked cynically. “Seems to me the only reason I’m here is to be his alchemist.”

“I am not sure what your parents told you, but you are a guest here in the castle,” Guy replied earnestly. “I know the sheriff may seem rather… eccentric, but you are now a valued member of his team. Think of being his alchemist as your job. Even the farmers that toil in the fields all day have time to rest, recuperate, maybe visit the market,”

You finally brought your eyes to meet his and felt your heart skip a beat at the smile on his face.

“I’m sure this must be incredibly jarring, being brought home from Bologna only to be thrust here of all places,” he said sympathetically. “In time, however, I am sure you will learn to see this place as a second home.”

His kind words helped dull the sting you had previously been feeling, nevertheless it was hard to remain optimistic in such a situation. For now, you supposed you could get by with exuding a facade of collective composure, at least long enough till you decided how you truly felt about this place.

You reached over and gave Guy’s arm a reassuring squeeze, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Thank you, Sir Guy,” you said. “I… I will try.”

He smiled and got up from the floor and offered you his gloved hand. You took it and in one strong pull, he hoisted you up.

“If you’d like,” he said. “I could show you to your room.”

“That would be lovely,” you replied with a smile. “Thank you.”

You shyly wrapped your arms around the one he politely extended to lead and the two of you silently began to walk through the halls of Nottingham castle.

It was much bigger than you initially anticipated and if it weren’t for Guy, you surely would have gotten lost. You started to worry about the following morning and sincerely hoped that the sheriff would send someone down to fetch you lest you wander off into an unsavory part of the castle.

The halls were sparsely decorated with various weapons and tapestries but nothing too extravagant, which you found a little odd considering the sheriff’s rather audacious wardrobe choice.

Walking up a set of stairs, Guy leads you down a hallway before slowly coming to a stop before a large wooden door.

“This is where you shall be staying,” he said and pulled it open for you.

It was fairly large and furnished with a bed, desk, armoire, and even a fireplace. It did not exactly feel very homey but, for now, it would do.

“Feel free to request anything that you may need with any of the guards stationed around,” Guy said. “They’ll fetch anything so long as they can find it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you replied and dragged your hand across the blanket that lay on top of the bed. It was surprisingly very soft.

“And, if you’d like, I could give you a tour of the castle tomorrow, to help you familiarize yourself with its layout. I know how confusing it looks to first-time visitors.”

“That would be very helpful,” you said and turned back to face him. “Thank you, Sir Guy—for everything. It’s reassuring to know that I have at least one friend here.”

His eyes lit up and he gifted you another stunning smile before he bowed his head. “Of course, milady. I will be here at your beck and call, all you need to do is ask.”

You giggled and curtsied as you said, “You are too kind to me. I will see you tomorrow, then?”

He nodded his head. “Of course. Till then, I wish you a pleasant rest of your evening, milady,” he said and departed with one last glance, closing your door with a quiet click.

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reddogf13 · 3 years

Text

Scarlet marks ch5

Pennywise x Beverly

summery: who knew she would end up here? Beverly, having started her work in fashion as a young bright secretary under the older tom Rogan. now forced to sexually serve slimy old politicians under toms vicious grip for power and money. forced into following toms political flock to Derry. she runs into a familiar face, wearing a silver clown suit, out on a special hunt. (mainly smut

status: In progress

rated: M - fowl language, gore, and sex scenes ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

previous chap: Scarlet marks ch 4

next chap: TBA

_____________________________________

~ch:5 Twisted confession~

“Grey! Grey put him down! Stop!” Beverly repeated as she pulled on his arm, unable to budge his tall figure.

He let out a deep growling snarl before dropping Tom to the floor. Beverly taking the chance to separate the two. Leaving grey standing on the porch as she half dragged the coughing Tom into the living room.

“tom, let me go with him for tonight.” she whispered to him, getting in all she could before he would regain his breath and tell her to shut up. “we need the money right? I can get enough from him to last us a while. We can also use it for another business party. Let me go for tonight.”

his breath having been caught up, he glared at her before speaking roughly. “fine. Drain the bastard for all you can. Tomorrow I am calling in a favor to get him out of my town!”

she nodded with a sigh of relief. Rushing off to meet grey on the porch to close the front door and rush him down the steps away from the house. “you shouldn't have done that!” scolding him along the way.

“why not?!” he questioned. “you shouldn't have even stopped me. Why have him stay alive?”

“because I need him to take care of me!”

“HA! He hardly does that!”

“better then nothing and being left for dead on the street. I don't have anyone else in my life!” she heard him huff behind her on their way to his car. She assumed it was from out of annoyance that she didn't let him eat tom. Their talk going silent to heavy rain fall having them rush into the car. Beverly brushing her hair out of her face and straightening the wet locks the best she could to look somewhat nice after being drenched.

The drive was short to a lovely restaurant where they sat at a table warmed by a nearby fireplace. Their night starting with a nice wine and simple starter a large charcuterie board to share. She took most the fruit and cheeses while he ate the meats.

“why wont you leave Tom?” he interrupted the relaxed mood between them.

She closed her eyes to gain some mental energy for the argument ahead. Swallowing the current bite of food she had chewed through. “like I said, he takes care of me. I cant just up an leave either.” wanting the conversation to end there.

“why?”

“what do you mean why?”

“i can take care of you.”

his statement had her letting out a awkward chuckle. Dropping the smile on her face at seeing how serious his was. Staring at her unblinking in an expression of confusion mixed agitation. “... what about when you get bored?”

“what?”

“what happens when you get bored of me?” repeating her question. “What if I get too tired to do what you want? what happens if you find another girl you like more?” she continued. “When what you want changes, what will happen to me?” taking a sip of wine. “this is all thrilling … for now, but what about when a month passes? Or three? This isn't the first time I've had promise's of “being taken care of” by someone other then tom. You'll move on to do something else and I'll still have Tom. That's how my work goes, that's my life and nothing changes.” shrugging it all off to continue eating.

He didn't say much else after that, however his actions were speaking louder. Flooding the table with fancy orders that Beverly wasn't sure to do with. She ate from a few of the dishes as he kept up that locked on stare with a wide smile. Her eating slowed as her discomfort grew. She thought on why he was doing it. “hoping I'll runaway with him or showing off?” not thinking too long on it.

Full of good food they left together with another bottle of wine. Rushing back to the car through the lightly pouring rain. Beverly taking time to straighten out her hair again in the car. He turned to her with a smile “love the dinner? Want to go relax somewhere else before returning to the wagon?”

“sure, but where?”

“the peak, park up there and enjoy the view with our other bottle of wine.”

“heh, sure, clown.” chuckling in doubt that they were going there to enjoy the view. Relaxing the whole drive up to the lonely parking lot topping a steep hill. Looking out to the lights of Derry shining through the falling rain tapping along the car. The ferris wheel still spinning brightly as it wasn't yet time for the fair to close. Grey giving her a glass to pour the freshly opened bottle of wine into. Sipping their glasses in relaxing in the car. Both deciding to sit closer in the back seat wrapped closely together in greys jacket for warmth.

“so why was Tom in such a snippity mood today? If I offer high enough he just accepts my offer.” sipping on some wine. “Someone cancel today?”

“the political hunting trip took a nose dive when a bear came along.”

“oooh, sucks for them.” he snickered.

She thought to herself. “what extreme bad luck.” all those men taken out by one bear. “left food around and didn't see the bear coming?” she wondered. “they don't tend to walk without younger help though. They must get tired hoisting their guns and ammo around the forest.” taking a sip of wine. “my costumers seem to always have the worst bad luck. All disappeared over time after I arrived. Pennywise killed that one group a week ago. Now this group was eaten by-” her mind linking together that these events may not have such different circumstances.

Peeking at grey pouring the last bit of wine in his glass down into his wide open mouth. “no, couldn't be him the whole time.” she thought. “he started visiting me a while after my flow of customers slowed.” but his words from when they first started meeting came forth. “he'd been scanning the streets for a while. And only seriously as of recent.” but why? Her mind brought up. “because I arrived?” sipping some wine in thought.

“grey.” she spoke his name to catch his attention. “how long did you know I was working the streets?”

he swallowed down his mouthful of wine. “about as long as you've been here. I see practically everything, including all the ones you've served.” he gloated with mild aggression at the mention of past men being with her.

“you watched me work and got interested yourself?”

“oh yes, I couldn't pass up the opportunity.”

“must have been hard with how full my schedule was.”

“ah, wasn't too hard. Your schedule opens up … eventually. … they'll stop coming. … eventually.” his words starting strong then turning to a dying mumble. Turning his attention away from her to pouring another glass.

“that's not entirely true. Tom will always have friends to schedule at the house for me.”

“like who?” pausing his glass of Chardonnay at his lips.

Beverly didn't say immediately any names. “he has a huge book of contacts somewhere. Probably endless.” she tossed out. Going over how earlier today he subtly asked who was vising. She gave the groups specific names and what they were doing that day. Right before he left and the group died shortly after.

He laughed. “oh, with how old all his buddy's are they'll pass soon enough. Accidents happen all the time.” resuming his drinking from the glass.

“i guess.” she replied. Thinking over how it all seemed too strange to be just accidents. Had he been killing since she first got into Derry? Why? To have her 24/7? did he really want her that much? To pluck everyone off to make it so he was the only one? “surely that wouldn't work. He wouldn't make a plan like that. Too much work for me to be available for a few hours.” she thought as she drank her lovely wine. Glancing at him drinking his every now and again.

Looking between the lights and high above highlighted rainclouds from their seats. The quiet time again bringing to mind the circumstances between her, Pennywise, and her dwindling customers.

“you remember those men you ate a week ago? Were they the first you killed to keep away from me?”

“yes, why?”

“did you kill those hunters? It wasn't a bear, was it?”

“what, no?!” denying the accusation.

“a bear couldn't kill ALL of them. They each probably had a gun to shoot it. At least the bear would have been found dead to.”

“they're scrawny old men who need canes. They would have been a free meal to anything in the woods.”

“awfully convenient for them to be eaten. Same as that one business meeting being canceled when one suddenly crashed their car. Or all the ones before who went missing eventually.”

he huffed. “your overthinking it all. They're old and dying. As for everyone else, maybe they just ran out of money.”

“i don't think your being honest. You killed them all to free up time with me? Don't tell me I am overthinking it. Why do all of it?! I don't need you brushing me off, acting like Tom.”

something inside of him snapped at the accusation of treating her like Tom. He pinned her to the back seat and loomed over. Disguise shedding to reveal his silver suit and clown looks. Getting extremely close to speak at the side of her face, into her neck. “fine, you want to know why?” he began.

“You had all those males coming for you, getting in my way. Yes, I got rid of them all. Those when you first came, that crashed car, those dumb partyers and hunters. One by one so that only I could have you. And I'll keep doing it, even if I have to kill every male in Derry if I have to.” his confession freezing Beverly in place. Grin stretching full of sharp teeth. “I stopped hunting children because, for a while I've been doing a different kind of chase. I've been looking for a mate and I chose you.” her Skin chilling as her face warmed from a strong blush. Speechless as she felt like she was floating in air.

“me?” was all her mind could bring forth. His hands squeezing her shoulders grounding her again to keep listening to his confession.

“the only one getting in my way is that thorn in my side, Tom.” the growl he let out vibrating through her chest. “you keep choosing that male over me when I've been giving so much more. You say you want to stay with him, but I know better.” taking a deep inhale at her neck, he continued speaking. “All those rounds together to break you away from that spineless fool to become mine. your body's accepted me already, I can always smell it on you, The heated lust for me to bed you. I can even smell it on you now.” he growled deeply.

Flustering her to heavily swallow from nerves. Burning a bright red that had her face feel on fire until the cool touch of his hands brushed her face. “does my female want me to knot her down right here?” he breathed hotly at her neck. That sweet smell flowing off him to intoxicate her body. Heightening her want of him to take over already.

She shifted her hips against his with a quick nod. “yes.” she quietly spoke out. Permanently quieted with a deep kiss backing her into the seat. Giving into him stripping them both down in seconds. His hips pinning hers back with each firm thrust. His arms crossing past her head to claw into the leather. Growling and drooling excitedly over the pleasure coming over them. Slipping out for a moment to change positions. Flipping her down into the seat before thrusting back into her. Her legs already quivering under the pleasuring thrusts he wildly gave her. Biting into her neck and shoulders to leave more reddening marks.

She whimpered and moaned out as the towering male above thrusted her down. Clawed hands gripping her shoulders to press his weight down. His thumbs rubbing deeply into her shoulder blades for minor relief from what little pain he was causing. Holding her steady for each firm thrust sliding himself deeper. She could feel his length twitching and squirming the whole way to its goal. Beverly could hardly open her eyes under it all. Submitting to his domination of fully claiming her again like he did not long ago.

He didn't take long to ensure his knot was locked deep down into her. Not lessening his pace between the loads he spilled. Her hand gripping into the seat they were spread out upon. Not wanting him to ever stop, to keep going as long as he wanted until he filled every part of her. Struggling underneath his grip to rile him up further. His hands gliding down to wrap his arms around her waist. She rose up to shiver in her new position on hands and knees. Legs feeling like jello as her body threatened to collapse under the reoccurring waves stunning her body.

She kept wanting to say something, but the words could never escape her. Breathing in his sweet scent or moaning out in shivers. Almost collapsing again by him filling her with his hot seed. She wanted more from him with the words finally able to come out. “m-more, I want more.” skin prickling at the base of her neck from his hot breath.

“I'll give you a lot more.” letting out that deep guttural purr that had her collapsing back down off the heavy vibration. Losing her voice below him to non stop moaning through the hours he kept up the joyful ride. When he stopped she tiredly looked up to him, exhausted after so many hours but wanting far more.

He grinned down to her and helped her up. “lets get back to the wagon. Lot more comfortable there then in a back seat.” causing her confusion on how exactly he was going to drive with them stuck together. He got most their upper ware on to move them both to the front seat. Buckling them together with her stuck on his lap for the drive. He needed to wipe the window clear the steam they caused was so thick.

Beverly thought it was both hilarious and thrilling to drive this way. Hopefully a cop wouldn't pull them over before reaching the wagon. Getting in and out of the car was a small mission in itself. Soon as the door closed behind them it was right back to what they were doing earlier. Across every furniture he could steady her on before making it to where the bed was.

Biting to marking across her in his wild claiming of her on the bed. Him taking full control as Beverly relaxed for him to do so. When she felt his cum spilling over to flow down her thighs did she feel satisfied in gaining enough. Knowing her body was ready for sleep he lessened his motions to nest them both down into the bed. Resting over her to lick at the scratches he caused. Calming Beverly into a blissful sleep for the night.

The next morning she woke without him sleeping over her. Gazing around she found him not too far, standing naked cooking something at the stove. “morning.” she yawned with a stretch, hissing at her sore muscles protesting.

“morning. I am making us a nice hearty soup.” he smiled.

“sounds nice.” she smiled back. Blushing at feeling the apparent sticky slickness coating her legs.

“he-heh, want a bath before breakfast to get all that off you?” teasing her.

“yeah, but I'll need help to the bathroom.” holding out her arms as he came over to help.

Carrying her to a nice hot bath covered by rose petals. “I'll come back after I fix up the bed.” leaving her to relax in the bath.

Alone she lathered up with some flowery scented soaps. Thinking back to all that happened last night. His confession of killing every male that planned to be with her. Destroying all of toms connections and that the only reason tom's really alive is because shes been choosing him. Somewhat glad, but also disappointed that pen was holding back on toppling Tom because of her. “do I want him to?” she thought in questioning herself. He was leaving the choice, to join him, to her but would she rather he just kill Tom despite her protests?

“does he really want me?” was her next thought. “tom started the same. All the gifts, fancy dates, then when he finally had me-” sickened at the thought. “maybe its best I stick to Tom.” thought process broken when Pennywise entered to help her from the tub. Getting her dried and wrapped into a towel.

“muscles feel any better?” giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

Joking with a return kiss. “yeah, I can probably pick up a spoon without an arm cramp.” hugging his shoulders as he carried her to bed. Settling back on the fresh clean bedding he changed. Watching the lovely view of his shifting muscles from him walking back to the cooking food on the stove. Shifting in stirring the hot food on the nearby stove. A tempting idea filling her mind to call him over. “pen, come here for a sec.”

#It (2017)#pennywise #beverly marsh #pennywise x beverly marsh

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missingartist · 4 years

Text

The Witcher’s Mate- Chapter 14

Adva liked Triss. While being a skilled mage, there was a nurturing and caring nature to her. They spent many days together, practising the craft of spells and potions. In the three weeks, she never felt so free. Magic surged through her and with every day it grew. It wasn’t just the magic it was not having to wake up at the break of dawn to prepare the morning meal for the tavern, or stay up all night brewing a speedy recovery potion for the working girls who had had one too many customers the night before. Adva and Geralt had to feel into a pattern of sorts; each morning they would meet by the tree and spend the early hour of the morning together. Often or not, Geralt would sit in silence and watch her read or explain to her the various qualities of monsters or beasts. It was comfortable it was Adva favourite part of the day, spending a few hours with the moody Witcher. With each passing day, Adva was privy to a small glimpse at the man beneath all the armour, moods and mutations. A man who was sweet and caring he brought her a small packet of candy peanuts, he would never give them to her just leave them on her desk or would carry the mass of books Triss has dumped on her even little things like holding open the door. It was nice, but it did also reveal a sad side to his nature, a touch starved and painfully lonely man. His touches would linger, burn into her. I made her wonder when the last time someone hugged him, really hugged him. Being an orphan alone in the world, she knew what it was like to have no emotional intimacy; how it hurt.

For the last week, she rubbed the balm onto his chest, and stay with him till he fell asleep, sometimes she would doze next to him watching over him. Though he was sleeping better, sometimes ten hours straight, he still looked tired, his constant temperature was worrying. Geralt simple shrugged off her concerns with the news that he and Jaskier were going on a hunt. Both had disappeared for a week to a local forest infected by Ghouls. Every day that past Adva had become more adamant that they would not return. At the end of the fifth day, upon their return from their walk, Triss and Adva fell in the door laughing at some local merchant making a pass at the two women with the temptation of free cheese, to find the two men arguing in the living room.

‘Ahhh Geralt you have returned! We have just had a walk around the town…Smiggle, the Cheesemonger tried to talk Adva into a betrothal with a lump of cheddar.’ Triss’s laugh tinkled then bells in the parlour of the large house.

‘If it had been Brie, he would have got a different answer.’ Adva laughed taken a seat next to Jaskier, who laughed heartily and poured a drink.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Adva that Geralt gave Triss an outraged look, bordering between angry and irritation. There had been many secret looks and meetings in the workshop, behind the thick door. It uneased her. The way her ears burnt when they left made her paranoid. Geralt had been indecisively hot and cold. Some moments made her think they were almost friends than in a second; he would go cold and moody.

Geralt eyes rolled over Adva form, she wore the burgundy dress, with gold embroidery. It was tight across her chest and waist, showing delicious curves and flaring out at the hips to swish as she walked gently. Her hair had grown longer, and now wavy curls danced along her neck and the start of her back, every time she turned her head a waft of her smell invaded Geralt senses. He had spent the last five nights yearning for sleep; the smell had faded to a delicate reminder of her, calling him back to her. No matter how hard he scrubbed the smell clung to him, it has soaked into his very pores. When the last Ghoul had died, he saddled up Roach and headed straight back, not even bothering to clean the Ghoul blood from his body.

‘I thought you were meant to be studying Botany not how to flirt with cheese merchants. Triss your curriculum needs reworking’ Geralt bite out in a low cold tone

Triss glared as the Witcher, with deadly eyes. Five days gone, and the first thing he says to her was that—what a prick.

‘Adva why don’t you tend to the plant in the greenhouse, I have something to discuss with Geralt.’ Triss cooed and quickly ushered the woman out the room.

‘Geralt! The past five days, you have been like a lovesick puppy and that the first thing you say to her’ Jaskier scolded hands-on-hips.

‘I am not a lovesick puppy.’ The Witcher growled.

‘You are…Adva is so nice….you…you don't deserve her.’ Jaskier gave a high-pitched squeal, and he threw down his quill and followed the curly-haired women out to the Greenhouse.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A slow sarcastic clap filled the air as Geralt stared grimily at the fire and burnt limply in the fireplace. Triss’s angry eyes were burning into the side of his face, but he refused to acknowledge her. ‘Well done, Geralt! Push her away.’

Geralt played his flagon taking deep gulps from the vessel, attempting to ignore the annoying Mage.

‘Ignoring me? Very mature, you must have been missing Adva immensely. I know she missed you, she kept pinning after you….’ Triss prodded and rolled her eyes, and he continued with the silent treatment. ‘Still nothing…. Well, I suppose you don’t want to know about the exciting discoveries I have made since you departure.’ Triss teased.

Geralt interest was ignited and his attention laid solely on the Mage, who gave him her best Cheshire smile as she waved her hand the table filled with papers and journals.

‘I sent for all of Tradi’s work; Lord Brightwater seemed to vary keen to get rid of it. Grumpy man. He also added some of Cersi notes as well. Seem your friend left in the middle of the night without saying goodbye to the sour Lord. He wasn’t best pleased. I sent one of the Marquis men to investigate; it appears that she left in the night in a hurry; the portal she used is nothing like I have seen before. No sign of the language in Adva book, I did, however, find an old journal.’ Triss pulled a journal onto her workbench, and pulled several pieces of paper from the book and scattered them in front of the two.

‘Geralt, Adva has been hidden her whole life…very carefully I might add. Cersi, in her journal, details the girl's growth and powers. Cersi seems very impressed with the girl's waterpowers peaking beyond expectation. There are pages and pages detailing everything magical goal she reached as she grew, how her body is formed, whether her body would be able to transform, or if she has bled. Don’t you think it's strange that ever since she left Brightwater, she had been attracting unwanted male attention? I have had to send away the Marquis men; they kept trying salivating over her. My guess's it's in her pheromones; there is nothing magical coming off her. That smell you're so addicted too. You’re her mate, so it does something more to you on a …metaphysical level. But for the rest of us mortals it does something else entirely, have you not noticed how people are with her? They become enamoured with her, but if you place her in a Whore house, Adva’s scent would be void. Sex gives off powerful odours, enough to hide her in plain sight. Why do you think Cersi did not take her in… and teach her, she placed her where she would be the safest, away from prying eyes of Mages and the like. If we want to find out what is happening, we need to find and talk to Cersi….. Till then I would recommend we take her to Kaer Morhen. She will be away from civilisation, and you can claim her. We need to tell her today…now.’

‘No’ Geralt gripped definitely.

‘Geralt! For the love of Goddess, why are you fighting this! What more proof do you need? Do you want me to wheel her out with the words Geralt’s Mate Painted across her chest before you admit it? An idiot could tell that you are struggling. You are barely sleeping or eating, and you're burning up! My potions are not working anymore. Have you read that book of Witches? You know if you don’t bond with her, you are going to drive yourself mad.’ Triss all but spat.

‘The book said we had a year…’

‘Yes, but with a human mate. WE may not know what she is, but we know she is not human, her bloody scent is enough to send the men around here acting like besotted idiots, for her mate, it must be seven times more potent. Why are you fighting this? Geralt your skin is clammy, I can feel your temperature from across the room. Your mood swings are becoming very wild, even for you. Geralt you are killing yourself…if that happens, who knows what will happen to her.’ Triss was pleading now, not something she usually resorted to, but she was scared for them both.

‘Fuck off Triss…’

‘Goddess help me Geralt... I will tell her myself.’

‘You won't!’

‘Why shouldn’t I?’ Triss hunched over him, prodding her brazened finger into his armour.

‘Because she deserves better!’ Geralt pulled Triss back as he roared, lifting a table in the process and launching in across the room.

‘Geralt…’

‘She is so pure and untouched. So sweet and innocent. I can’t….I won’t. She doesn’t and will not want me a life partner. I won’t subject her to this sort of life. I love her too much for that’ Geralt boomed

‘Geralt it not about you anymore. What about Adva, maybe she wants to be with you. To have someone, she had been alone for a long time.’ Triss voice broke into a soft whisper as she reached out to comfort the shaking man.

‘I can’t be that someone.’ Uttered heartbrokenly before turning and rushing away.

Triss’s heart broke for a moment, for both of them. Love was a complicated thing. For Geralt he felt too much, he loved so devotedly, and fiercely it broke him every time Yennefer stomped his heart into the ground. If anyone deserved someone, it was Geralt. A plan started to form in her head. It would take some effort to push the stubborn Witcher in the direction of the lovely creature, but it would be worth it, she cared too much to let Geralt send himself to early death, and she was already too devoted to Adva to let her be cast off by the handsome Witcher. Smiling smugly she set off, Jaskier would be easy to recruit. If Geralt weren’t going to act, then she would do it for him. Despite the complete mystery that enveloped the woman, there was one thing she did know, the soul bond was strong, and if they didn’t mate soon, god knows what will happen.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Geralt couldn’t help himself. By nature, he was a very sexual being, that itself is one of the reasons there was an attraction between him and Yennefer. That spark of need that burnt between them. They satisfied each other; with a Witcher’s stamina he could go for days, and a mage could at least try to match that. Because of that Geralt could never really say he felt fulfilled with a partner, the nearest being Yennefer and whether that was because of the Jinns magic he couldn’t say. The Witcher had never cursed his sexual desire, he was never short of partners, and his energy seems to be limitless in the area, he has never failed to rise of the occasion no matter how beaten or broken his body. By now he cursed the fate for the situation he found himself in. All 6ft 5 of him stood half-collapsed against a bedroom for that was not his own.

After storming out, he forced himself to tend to Roach and after that momentary distraction found himself in Adva’s room. After five long days, he needed to calm himself with her scent. His nose had picked up the scent and dragged him like a prisoner to the room the other side of the house, where he had no reason or excuse to be in. The Witcher’s heart pumped faster, the first time in almost a century until it was the only thing he could hear. The perfume of her was suffocating, disorientating and intoxicating, he needed to get away but couldn’t tear himself to leave. Geralt could see the strands of scent in a sparkling blue that curled through the air leading to a swirling mass in the centre of the bed.

Swallowing hard he approached the unmade bed, tentatively perching on the side, giving at the rumpled bedclothes. The outline where her body had rested was clear; the scent permeated from where she had slept the past three weeks. Inhaling deeply, he drove through the scents, subtle difference depending on her moods and what she had eaten. He deciphered the scents layer by layer till he found the addictive fragrances that had driven him here, it was dark then the other, a navy blue, almost black. Apple and the sea but musky with a sweetness. Trailing his fingers over the bed, he felt it and saw it. Her want. Her desire. Her wetness.

The scent had soaked into the very fabric of the bed throughout her stay, every night, adding to the aroma. Never had he been so thankful for his Witcher abilities, he saw it. The way her hair cascaded against the pillow as she tossed and turned, clenching her thighs together as she the wetness formed and the pressure became too much to bare. A delicious bead of sweat travelled down her neck, travelling over her left breast and then missing with the other scents on the bed. Clothing would be flung off in an attempt to cool herself down with little or no difference. With reluctance, her hands would travel to her slick thighs in an attempt to rid herself of the ache, her mouth turning into the pillow to muff her sobs of pleasure and growls of frustration as she never managed to bring herself over the edge that she had teased herself along for the best part of two weeks.

Inside of him, two feelings flourished the sense of sadness that she did not know how to pleasure her own body but also pride at being her first and only, the only man that would teach and feel her. A throaty moan push passed his lips. The rough bronzed hand was slowly palming his raging cock; he didn’t know when he had unlaced his breeches, but he could bring himself to think about it. Instead, he found himself settling himself on the bed, ripping his undershirt in the process, his hand never leaving his throbbing member.

Adva could come back at any minute, or Triss discover him, but all Geralt could focus on was the heat that rushed through him with every stroke. The Witcher was accustomed to pleasure himself when a willing bedmate was not to be found but never had it felt this good. Palming his balls, they had been heavier than he could ever remember them being, tight and painful, a grunt rumbled from him as he rolled them in his hands, teasing the skin with his fingertips. His other hand worked his length, a generous amount of pre-cum was already dripping across his tip, along his hand to slide effortless up and down his throbbing cock. Rolling his wrist, he pumped up and down slowly, enjoying the sensation, his eyes fluttered close, and a thousand images passed through his mind. Her laying frustrated on the bed whimper his name softly, her looking down at him as shyly she reached out to touch him, and all he could feel was her hand, while the other stocked his hair as she kissed him softly. It was a tender, pushing him slowly along to his peak.

A hiss escaped him, pushing through his teeth and the scent overpower him, forcing his eyes open. Gold obs burnt down as he watched he hand franticly pound his hard cock. A bead of pre-cum dribbled down. Geralt hips franticly snapped against his hand to meet every thrust, grunts and growl shook against the walls paired the violent sound of rhythmic flesh slapping filled the room, boarding on animistic, with ever sound Geralt chest practically vibrated as he edged closer and closer to release. Pushing himself against the headboard as he dug his heels into the bed as he arched his body, his hand desperately gripped his reddening cock as he feverishly pumped his cock. Grasping his hand out, the Witcher gripped the ornamental bedknob tightly, series of feral roars escaped the panting man. A thick jet of cum spurted out against the chest pooling in his stomach.

All strength sapped from his body, and the Witcher collapsed against the bed, soft pants puffed out from his chest, as slowly his eyes fluttered closed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jaskier twirled to flower in his hand as he tilted from foot to foot as he observed the woman in front of him, he likes her immensely, it was half the reason he agreed with this plan. Adva was refreshing after spending what was like an eternity in the company of Yennefer. Jaskier felt an inner hatred for the violet-eyed Mage; she treated Geralt as a plaything, he did not disagree that there was some endearment on her side, but the way in which she treated his friend was beyond miserable, Ciri and him caught in the middle. The sad thing is Geralt could not see it, he followed her like a minion, and the big bad wolf turned to a lovesick puppy. Adva didn’t seem to mind the Witcher’s countenance, and there was a genuine affection for him. Jaskier might not have the Witcher’s sense, but he saw the looks, the subtle glances and the longing glimpses. If it weren’t for that, he would have set his cap to her himself. Adva was a beautiful woman, gifted with a voluptuous figure, violently blue eyes and plush lips that gave her a disarming smile paired with a caring personality; she was a catch for any hot-blooded man. But the hot-blooded man she seemed to want to be Geralt, especially going from the way her shoulders sagged as she tended the plants.

Adva busied herself tendering the plant in the glasshouse, Jaskier had followed her out and tended to her with soft praises and cheerful stories as an attempt to lift her mood. For the most part, Adva kicked herself for being that upset, Geralt lately had often been in a bad mood, but what had just happen wounded her. There was no reason why, nothing had occurred between them, so there was no reason for her to be hurt by his words, but she had thought they had grown close in the recent months. The Witcher’s scolding upset her.

‘We could go to town. Paint the town red.’ Jaskier lightly suggested as he plucked another flower up from Adva cuttings, causing her to look up and break her away from her thought.

‘…’

‘Come let have a night on the town. My coin purse is empty and I need to refill it with some wealthy listeners. The local tavern is a perfect spot, but I need a muse. Come with me.’ Jaskier cooed as he tucked the wildflower behind her ear.

‘Jaskier…’ Adva started before Jaskier cut her off with a stern look.

‘No…my creative flow is upon me. We will raid Triss’s wardrobe for clothing worthy of you and set off for the tavern. I envision an elegant undo with those pearl pin Triss has, oh and that burgundy dress I saw tucked at the back of his wardrobe. You are going to be my masterpiece, my subject of serenade; all will come to see you and listen to my songs. Now let's get you washed and polished. We are going to eat, drink and sing’ Jaskier bustled as he pushed her out the glasshouse.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jaskier was very pleased with himself, the dress that Triss had ordered was perfect, no man or woman would be able to look away for her. It was tight-fitting column dress in a mix of silk and velvet, at the waist two separate vents shot off in fine mesh material, embroidered in a silver thread, her sleeve made from the same material. The front had a deep V that showed off the milky flesh of her breasts, enticing the eye and showed off a barely modest cleavage. It had taken two gins to get her into the dress and another to let him apply the makeup. Her face was made up by brief sweep of powder, and a dark dusky pink lipstick painted on, making them seem all the more pouting. Two-layer of mascara had been applied to her eyelashes and a light pat of eyeshadow and delicate touch of eyeliner. Adva protested at the reflection at the mirror, but Jaskier ignored her and began to pin her curls over one shoulder with pearl hairpins before pushing her out the door.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

‘Geralt’

The alarmed voice carried throughout the house stirring the Geralt from his post-orgasm doze by Triss’s urgent cry. Casting his eyes around, he found that he had slept most of the day away. The sky was now darkening alarmingly; he was still sprawled across the bed, dry cum still plastered across his chest, his hand still encircling around his half-hard cock. Rearranging himself quickly, he straightened his clothes and slipped from the room as quietly and quickly as possible.

‘Really?’ Triss deadpanned as she tapped her foot outside her trainee's door.

‘What.’

‘I take it I can’t hope the Adva is lying half spend behind that door? I haven’t heard any screaming.’ The Mage deadpanned cross at him.

‘Triss drop it.’

‘Well maybe if you had she wouldn’t be missing. I can’t find her anywhere. One of the servants saw her heading off into town with Jaskier. That was at midday….’

‘Fuck’

So guys, what do you think?

I have a little competition for you. I need a pet name for Geralt to call Adva. Best one or the most recommended wins. My top picks are Goddess and Love as a genuinely think Geralt is the kinda guy who would worship you- Well in my dreams he is!!!

If anyone want to me tagged please message me :P

@broco8 @threepupsinapuddle @introvertedmouse @luxyash @shesthelastjedi @wonderlandfandomkingdom @crazynocturnalkiki

#witcher geralt #the witcher #netflix the witcher #geralt smut #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #Geralt #geralt x oc #geralt x smut #thewitcher

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themusicplayedherlife · 4 years

Text

Some Sugar

Part 3: you think you can open my heart?

pairing: sugar daddy!steve rogers x reader characters: reader, steve rogers, cassandra jones (oc), selena (oc), others word count: 3k+ warnings: angst, family issues, money problems, cursing, talks of sex summary: family can be pretty wild a/n: sorry this took so long, but shit happened--from car accidents to quarantine to a lack of motivation, and it was just really hard to write anything. I tried, but it was all shitty. Couldn’t even bring myself to finish this chapter, but I managed it, until I realized that part of this chapter wouldn’t fit in to this anymore and needed to be pushed back -insert grimacing emoji- so really this chapter could’ve been posted weeks ago lmfao IM SORRY

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Quiet hums reach your ear as you stare at your phone’s screen, the large sum of money with too many zeroes staring back at you. It hasn’t even been a week yet and you’ve already received your first allowance—first.

You throw yourself back onto your twin sized bed and the spring mattress squeaks horribly under your weight; you ignore it as your mind drifts to your conversation with Steve a couple of nights ago, your phone still in your hands and resting on your stomach.

“Even if you have a month left, it’s best to pay off the debt now.” As much as you wanted to pay attention to his blabbering, you were a little busy trying to keep your mind from how fast he was driving.

He had started off slow, or as slow as the speed limit allowed, really, until he got wrapped up in your story about your mom’s cancer returning, your sister’s self sacrificing nature (“She takes after you then,” he said with a grin), and your aunt and her subtle threats that were no longer so subtle.

Left hand gripped the seat tightly while your right hand clutched the handle on the roof. Your feet occasionally slammed down on the floor, braking whenever you felt Steve was going too fast for your liking. Wasn’t Captain America all about doing the right thing and following the law? Being safe? Honestly! He was lucky the streets were empty and there weren’t any cops in sight. You could have laughed at the imaginary headline: Captain America and His Sugar Baby Pulled Over For Driving too Fast. “Right,” is all you managed to say.

“I can probably wire you the money tomorrow and then some,” he said, completely oblivious to your dilemma. You didn’t—and still don’t—know whether that was a good or bad thing. “We should probably figure out how allowance is going to work first, though—hey, are you okay?”

You ripped your gaze from the blur of the world outside, eyes a little wide to find Steve alternating between looking at you and the road. “Can you—can you maybe ease up on the gas a little?”

He blinked, eyes falling to his dashboard and soon the world started blurring less and your body was no longer trying to fight against gravity. You exhaled and let go of the leather seat that you’re sure you’ve scratched up, and he chuckled. “Bad habit,” he admits. “More used to my motorcycle than a car.” Right. Captain America rode a motorcycle.

You leaned back into the seat and your head rolled against the headrest to look at him. “That’d explain it.”

He chuckled, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “I’ll be more careful.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” It’s sarcastic, and you almost feared he’d be mad but he only chuckled in response, blue eyes twinkling with mirth. Huh.

“So, allowance?”

Allowance. Right. That’s a thing. Allow-ance. Why is that such a weird word to you now? “I trust you.” (Selena had advised you a base price of 2,000 per meeting, but you thought—like most of her suggestions—it was ridiculous. “Give yourself some credit,” she had said when you scolded her.) “Whatever you think is right, I’ll accept.”

For a moment he mirrored your frown, until he nodded resolutely and smiled. “I’ll handle it.”

And handle it he did. Not that you’re surprised that Avengers make bank because c’mon they’re heroes! You just didn’t think they’d make that much bank to spare this much money! Tony Stark? Sure. He owned a damn company—or was on the board, you don’t know anymore. But the rest? Not so much.

A familiar ring from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts and you don’t even bother checking who it is, you just accept the call.

“Mornin’,” Steve’s voice greets you, a smile very much apparent in his voice and your heart does a flip. “I’m downstairs.”

You sit up hastily and in your hurry you almost fall off, eyes darting to the closed bathroom where Esmeralda is showering. “What?” Didn’t he say you were meeting at noon for lunch?

“My meeting got pushed back to this evening, and since you asked for the day off from the restaurant, I thought we’d make the most of the morning.”

“I’ll be down in a moment.” You pause when the doorbell rings. “Please tell me you’re not at my door right now.”

“No, but that might be Peter Parker.” How does he know—Shit. Right. He mentioned knowing the kid from his internship after you told him about your sister. “Just saw him enter the building with his friends.”

“Did he see you?” You really hope not.

“I don’t think so. If he had, the kid would’ve said something.”

You let out a relieved sigh and open the door just as you hear Ned say: “I swear that was Captain America downstairs!”

“What?” He said they didn’t see him!

“Morning,” Peter greets you as MJ rolls her eyes at Ned’s comment.

“I didn’t see anyone,” she says pointedly at him, before greeting you and smiling when you let them in.

You dumbly stare after them.

“It was him!” Ned insists, making a beeline towards the window facing the street and dragging Peter along with him.

MJ turns to you as she moves around the half wall separating the kitchen from the living room, not surprising. “Mind if I grab something to eat?”

“Sure?” You still don’t know why she bothers asking.

“The windows are tinted, Ned,” Peter hisses. “I can’t see.”

“You got Greek yogurt? Oh. You do. Cool.”

Ned frowns and scratches his head, murmuring, “I swear it was him.”

You sigh, and drop your hand holding your phone without ending the call. “Can you tell Esme I got called into work?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, turning away from the window. “Sure!”

“And tell her to shoot me a text before you guys leave for school.” Peter nods, not really paying attention to you as he joins Michelle in the kitchen, already knowing the drill. “No dirty dishes in the sink.”

The last thing you see is MJ flashing you a thumbs up before you close the door behind you.

As you make your way towards the stairs, you lift your phone back to your ear. “Didn’t see you, huh?”

“I may have poked my head out of the window to say hi to the kid, until I heard them mention you and your sister.”

“Yeah. He usually picks her up, doesn’t like Esmeralda going to and from school alone,” you explain as you search around the street. With a sigh you immediately spot him. “Can’t you drive a least expensive car? You stick out like a sore thumb.”

He chuckles and you hear movement before seeing the driver door about to open. “I could always drive my motor—“

“No, no, no!” You rush towards him. “Do not get out of the car.”

“But—“

“Ned was looking out the window when I left,” you say, your eyes moving to the windows of your apartment, but thankfully don’t see him. “He still might be.”

He sighs, but obliges, the door closing.

“Thank you,” you tell him as you hang up the phone and open the door.

“They're bound to find out,” he says, raising an eyebrow in your direction as you buckle yourself in.

You know, and you tell him as much, “I don’t know how to exactly explain this—“you motion to him and you—“yet.”

He frowns, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as he pulls away from the curb. “We’ll figure it out.”

He takes you to a small restaurant in Brooklyn. Light blue walls and leather seats with white and golden lights—it’s retro, super retro, but cozy. Steve keeps his sunglasses on and the bill of his hat low. It’s ridiculous if he thinks this is really a disguise that works.

The curious host leads you to a table in the back, away from prying eyes—hopefully—after you ask for a booth. He settles into the leather facing the door and you opposite of him, large painting being the only thing you have sight of other than Steve, and yourself if you turn to your left and stare at the mirror covering a third of the wall.

She hands you both menus and leaves after you take a quick scan of the drink menu.

“How effective do you think the sunglasses and hat are?”

“It’s covert,” he defends, playful offense in his voice.

You lean on your crossed arms resting on the table. “You’re literally wearing sunglasses indoors, Steve. That’s weird. And bound to attract attention.”

“Tony does it all the time.” Is he whining?

You snort, staring into the dark lenses, imagining where his eyes are. “Yeah, because he’s the Tony Stark.” He scoffs and you shrug. “He can do things like that and get away with it. Not like he’s actively trying to hide himself either.”

“Okay, I get it. It’s a little ridiculous.”

You grin, amused at the small pout forming on his pink lips. Who knew Captain America was a sulker. It’s cute.

Your assigned waitress comes by and takes your order after placing down your drinks that the hostess marked down for you both. You choose something light—a pesto caprese sandwich—compared to the hearty breakfast Steve orders for himself—a loaded omelet, heavy on the cheese. You smile up at the waitress, but you find that her eyes, although listening to you, are trained on Steve. He seems to notice, too, because he smiles politely before gesturing to you with a small incline of his head.

“How about we share a side of tater tots, sweetheart?”

You blink lazily at the nickname just as the waitress drops her gaze to you as if finally remembering that your voice belongs to an actual body. There’s a tingle that curves down your spine and you know he’s staring at you behind his dark glasses. His shoe nudges yours and his lips curl into a lopsided smirk.

You recline your cheek against your perched arm and tilt your head further into your palm with a smile. “Anything you want, baby,” you coo and Steve lifts a playful brow in question, your smile only growing wider when he nudges your shoe again.

The waitress squirms and mutters something before scurrying away.

“Baby?”

Sweetheart? you want to shoot back, but instead you remain neutral, reaching for your drink with your free hand. “Better than calling you daddy.”

He straightens, visible skin turning red and you stifle a laugh as he shuffles in his seat. “I—“ You don’t break eye contact, if his eyes are following yours, as you wrap your lips around the paper straw and suck the sweet orange juice to coat your tongue. “You can call me anything you want, sweetheart.”

Interesting. “Even Stevie?”

“Anything,” he reiterates, leaning back into the seat to rest his arm over the backrest and you smile. “As long as I get the same privilege.”

“It’s a deal, sugarplum.”

He snorts a laugh and you just shrug, trying to hide your smile with pursed lips.

“Tell me more about your family.”

The question cools you down, smile effectively shrinking into tight lips.

“Like?” you ask, suddenly finding the painting hanging behind his head much more interesting. It’s a simple painting of the beach, golden, warm colors contrasting with the beautiful cool shades of blue and white used for the ocean.

“You told me about your mom and sister, even Peter and his aunt, but you didn’t mention your dad—unless,” his voice turns soft, posture relaxing as if to put you at ease, “unless you don’t want to talk about him. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t be—“

“It’s okay,” you interject softly, lifting your head from your palm. “I just don’t know where to start.” He nods and removes his glasses with one hand as he reaches for one of your hands. “Um, my dad… he died in a car accident when I was 13.” You watch his fingers as they intertwine with yours, just like they did at the bar. Steve doesn’t seem like it, but he craves physical affection. Always seemingly touching you by holding your hand. Not that you mind it, it definitely comforted you, but you can’t help but wonder: why. “He was a good man. Smart. Loved us all very much. Loved technology,” you emphasized followed by a small laugh.

He’d spend hours tinkering with home appliances to try and upgrade them. You loved those moments the most, when you’d sit by him and he’d ask for a tool and you’d hand it to him. He’d tell you what he was doing, explain every step and process and what that change would do. He nurtured your mind, treated it as his equal.

He squeezes gently and you let his warmth cover you. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. “It’s okay. I’ve gotten over it.” He doesn’t mention the twitch of your fingers or the way your voice falters, he instead lets you change the subject. “I also have a brother that is 3 years older.”

Unlike your sister, you, and your dad, JC has always been more artistic, preferring to follow in your mother’s footsteps in learning how to play instruments and singing. He never understood your fascination with tinkering and creating, shunning your father’s activities when he tried to get all of you to help upgrade the television or stereo or whatever project he brought home from the lab.

He frowns at that, a little confused. You don’t blame him. You didn’t exactly mention him when you talked about Esme and your mom. “Did he move away?”

“Yep,” you pop the p, absentmindedly twirling the straw in your drink. “Moved out as soon as he turned 18. Would see him twice a year at best, but we used to hear from him often. Then after I turned 18 we never heard from him again.” And he made sure you wouldn’t be able to find him, too. Changed his number, deleted all of his social media, cut ties with his friends, and vanished. Not that you were surprised, he hated the struggle you and your family went through after dad died. You had always known he’d leave at some point.

But you stupidly held onto the hope he wouldn’t leave when you needed him most.

“Oh.” He frowns, trying to think of what to say, maybe even offer to help look for him. But what would that do? That’d just bring him back to the life he wanted to get away from.

You flex your fingers in his hold, just to readjust your grip on him and hum lowly. “It is what it is.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Sometimes,” you admit, but it somehow feels wrong when you think about the last time you spent with your brother. The hurt he caused when you woke up and he was no longer there in the morning, only a single cupcake with a candle waiting for you on the kitchen counter. “Other times I—I don’t.” His thumb caresses the edge of your palm, barely grazing your wrist and you can’t help but let the negative feelings fade with his gentle touch. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he asks, soft with blue eyes staring into you. He knows you’re changing the subject, but he lets you. You don’t want to talk about JC anymore or even think about him, and it’s for the best.

“What’s your family like?” He looks at you as if you've grown another head and you flush slightly. “I meant your friends, Steve. You’re all like family, right?”

“Oh!” His eyebrows shoot up and he tenses for a moment before relaxing, smile worming its way onto his lip. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, we are. They’re great. A little out there, but they’re good people.”

He tells you all about them; from Tony and Bucky and how the were able to set aside their differences when the world needed it most and how they bonded over their love of science; Natasha and Wanda and their bond as sisters, including the fact that they could most likely rule the world if they tried; Vision and Clint and their strange friendship that was born from trying different food; Sam and Sharon and their newfound relationship that everyone likes teasing; to Thor and Bruce and their bromance born from fighting in a planet a la gladiator style—all of them, telling you things you wouldn’t hear from television or read from articles with interviews. And from the way his eyes light up and his voice lightens, there's no doubt in your mind that he loves his family just as much as you love yours.

Your aunt stares at you with barely disguised distaste before unpleasant eyes move to Steve, who stands close to you still wearing his hat and sunglasses. No matter how many times you told him to stay in the car, he wouldn’t listen. “If she’s willing to send someone to threaten you, who knows what she’s capable of,” he had said, grabbing onto your hand before letting you go to get out of the car.

The check is flat on her desk, but she doesn’t move to pick it up. “How did you get this?”

“Does it matter?”

She tutts, eyes boiling with restrained anger. “I don’t want stolen money.”

That’s rich coming from her. “It’s not.”

“I suggest you take it ma’am,” Steve speaks up, breaking his silence. “And consider the debt paid.”

She tilts her head, eyes taking over Steve properly, like a huntress on the prowl. “And who exactly are you?”

“That’s none of your business,” you answer for him, moving to stand in front of him and effectively cutting her gawking. “Just sign what you need to sign and we’ll be on our way.” And we won’t have to see each other again.

She stares unblinkingly at you before wearing a strained smile. She pulls out a file from behind her and flips it open to the correct page, signing it and stamping it along with the last page before ripping it out—a receipt—and handing it to you.

You take it from her hands and scan your eyes over it—PAID. A giddiness bubbles in your stomach, but you hide it from her. “I would say it was a pleasure Magdalena, but it never is.” You turn on your heels and Steve is right behind you. “One more thing,” you pause at the door, Steve close enough to press his chest against your back. “Stay away from my family,” you warn before strutting out the door, smile curving your lips when you meet the disgruntled gaze of the man that had threatened you at your work.

He gives you a nod of acknowledgement as he makes his way into your aunt’s office.

“Say hi to Johnny for me,” she suddenly calls out just as he closes the door behind you, but it’s enough to throw you off guard. For your throat to close up and for you to stop in your tracks and for your hand to reach out for the hem of Steve’s jacket, barely caching the smirk she sends your way.

“Sweetheart?” Steve’s voice floats to your ears, warm and soft. “What’s the matter? Who’s Johnny?”

“My brother,” you say through a breath. He couldn't have come—wouldn’t have come back. There’s no way. JC made it perfectly clear he never would. You shake your head. “She must’ve been lying. Trying to get a rise out of me.”

“It worked,” he points out obviously and you sigh as he gently pries your hand from his jacket.

You don’t want to admit it, but… “It did.”

“Come on.” He slips his fingers between yours and tugs you out of the desolate building and back out into the streets of Queens. “Let’s get out of here.”

There’s a bubbling in the pit of your stomach, heart hammering as you glance over your shoulder back at your aunt, the small relief you had felt at getting her off your back tainted by the thought of JC being back, not even Steve’s warmth can ease your worry.

But there’s no way—he wouldn't. There’s nothing left in Queens for him anymore, and there never will be.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #reader insert #steve rogers #steve rogers fiction #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfic #some suger #queue: out saving the world

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jay-and-dean · 4 years

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I don’t need you Chapter 5 : Home

Dean x reader

Summary : She’s a warrior, she’s a loner. Nothing can stop her, nothing ever had. She doesn’t need Dean, does she ?

This is a request by @magssteenkamp that I decided to turn to a serie, see the original request on the serie Masterlist.

Serie Warnings : Swearing (duh). Mention of death. Smut, probably all kind from rough to fluffy, I’ll precise in the chapters if there are specific warnings. Fluff. Angst of course.

Chapter warnings : Swearing. SMUT, unprotected sex (you are smarter than this !) and I don’t know... a hint of angst and fluff ?

Words : 3.4 k (Yeah, I know... but smut...)

Note : I’ll try to stick to the 3k rule, like for Rescue You

If everything goes as planned, you’ll get one chapter every wednesday (Thanks to @magssteenkamp, I call it WednesJay, lol. Sorry okay, I shut up).

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

*** I don’t need you MASTERLIST***

_________________________________

5. HOME

Dean’s Pov

She doesn’t say a word.

Her pale face turned toward the car window, I can see how bad she’s trying to stay strong. If only she knew she doesn’t have too. I will never think she’s not, this woman is among the toughest person I have met, and nothing will change how I see her.

“Y/n…” I say cautiously, my hands tight around the wheel. “Can you tell me what happened ?”

She turns to me, her tired eyes piercing me, she clears her throat and takes a deep breath.

“I… woke up surrounded in flames. They found me, they found my address, my work… And they decided the war wasn’t over” her voice is calm but her body is tense. “I passed out after…” she stops, looking down.

“Yeah…” I just say to encourage her. “I’m glad you woke up in time.”

“They don’t have magic fire so the flames were eating the entire building, people will lose their home, or be hurt or worse…” she turns to stare absent-mindedly at the road. “Then I thought… If they found my apartment, they found my identity, so I ran to the bar and it… They locked the doors from outside and set it on fire. Joe was working this night, Lina too… Because of me, the main hunter shelter of center city burned, with the hunters in it.”

“It’s not your fault” I state, knowing this won’t reach her heart ; I heard that a thousand times myself, and never believed it.

“And the cops, they will make the link” she continues, ignoring my words. “I’m used to hide, but not both from monsters and the authorities.”

“They won’t find you, I’ll make sure of that.”

She doesn’t answer but her stomach gurgles loudly.

“When was the last time you ate ?”

“I don’t know… Two days ago or something like that” she opens her hand to stare intensely at her palm. “I didn’t call you right away… I wanted to get through this myself but…”

“Hey Y/n, you can’t do this alone, no matter how… well badass you are. You need a team. I am your team now… We are. And you need to eat.”

“I have nothing left, Dean, not a cent, not a toothbrush, and all my work is gone” she sighs.

“I have fake credit cards and a home I don’t have to pay. Sweetheart, let me share.”

I turn right, to that mall big ads praise for a few miles now, trying to make believe you could find everything that could built your happiness here.

In our case, maybe that’s actually true.

While she gets out of the car, her hands around herself, looking to the entrance in a frown, I grab my bag on the backseat, and find the green jacket I was looking for.

“Here” I state, giving it to her.

She hesitates but takes it in a sigh after a look to her corset, and the goosebumps on her skin.

“Thank you, Dean…”

I smile.

I know it’s a pretty awful time to smile but I can’t help it, being able to take care of her just makes me happy somehow.

This place is huge, colorful, noisy, and I’m pretty sure she hates it as much as I do. But we need a few items.

“Take this” I say, handing her one of my fake credit cards. “First we eat something, then we go buy the things you need to stay with us a few days or weeks” I state, not giving her any choice to decline my offer.

She just nods, biting her lips. She’s not used to ask for help, and I can see how uncomfortable that makes her, so I try to act as casual as I can, even with my heart pounding in my chest because of that pain I feel for her… and that persistent desire.

In the little diner inside the mall, a loud group of teen and a tired waitress. Y/n’s steps are unsure, and I can only imagine how exhausted she is.

The waitress doesn’t even look at us when she approaches, and Y/n doesn’t look up, her eyes on the table, a hint of shame in her eyes, something I hate deeply.

“I’ll take a bacon cheese burger and a coffee please” I say, hoping she would know what she wants, but of course, she mutters something about only a coffee. “Two bacon cheese burgers, please.”

She lifts her eyes on me and sighs.

“I’m not eating alone” I shrug.

She eats pretty slowly, and by the time she reaches the pickles in the middle of it, I’m done with mine. I try not to stare at her but everything she does, every move, is fascinating to me. She licks her fingers, she’s not doing it on purpose, cautiously trying to eat cleanly… and it’s even better.

Eating gave her a little strength. I’m sitting on the chair of the store, waiting for her to choose a few panties, jeans, maybe a t-shirt or two. I can see she only picks necessary things even though I repeated her several time that it was not, technically, my money.

Going through my phone, I read the articles about the fire, but nothing is more detailed than what she said for now. They don’t seem to have made the link to her yet, or at least, the media don’t know.

“I’m done” she appears in front of me, a bag hanging in the end of her arm, my jacket too big for her, hiding her hands, the shoulders seams falling too low on her arms.

“Do you need anything else ?” I ask, getting up.

“I guess you have soap at home, considering you don’t stink too much” she gives me a corner smile and it warms my heart.

She’s fighting sleep. I try all I can to make her feel comfortable, but she is still fighting, her eyes struggling to focus on the road.

“You can sleep” I state, my voice hoarse for saying nothing for a long time.

“I know” she smiles kindly.

“Do you want to stop for a few hours ? I could use a little rest too you know.”

She turns to me and frowns.

“You drove seven hours in a row, and you’re driving back… You must be exhausted” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m okay sweetheart” I chuckle at her concern. “There must not be a lot of motels around here, but I’ll find one.”

She looks down and smiles, nodding for herself.

“What ?” I ask, intrigued.

“It’s stupid” she tries to sweep my question away but my whole face insists, so she surrenders. “When I was… When I had no home, I used to dream that you would… show up, and that I could share a motel with you” her smile fades and I swallow. “Because it was so much better than the street…”

“I’m sorry I never showed up before” I state very seriously but she starts to chuckle to make that moment fade.

“I actually never went to one, it will be a first” she smiles now, her mask back in place.

She puts the store bag on the bed and looks around.

“I’m officially a Supernatural character.”

I smile, entering behind her.

“I’ll take the other room” I say looking in my hand for the right key. “I’ll go buy food, you take a good shower…”

When I’m about to go out, she stops me.

“Dean ?” I turn around, instantly high on her voice saying my name. “Can you lend me a knife or a gun while you’re gone ?”

Reader’s Pov

I sit on the bed, trying to take in everything that’s happening, staring at the ugly decoration, waiting for him in my brand new sweatpants. I never wore this kind of pants before, but I never lived with someone, so I figured I couldn’t sleep in my underwear as I usually do.

The shower really helped, and now I use Dean’s shower gel, it seems that the entire room smells like him. I look at the green jacket and take it in my hands, playing with its collar while I list the events in my head. Playing the scenes over and over, like it could give them a sense.

My phone rings, and I look at it, plugged on the nightstand. It’s a number I don’t know so I just stare at the screen, not making a move.

“Did you know” Dean says, suddenly entering the room with a white plastic bag in his arms. “That this shithole doesn’t even have a store ! Only a Gas station !”

My eyes follow him, amazed by this way he has to move, so Dean, like it was described in the books. I get up, tugging at my brand new black t-shirt, to help him with whatever he found.

“So on tonight’s menu, Madame… Coke, chips” he gets everything out of the bag naming them one by one. “Twinkies… this thing, whatever it is, Cheetos, M&Ms… and that.”

“Yummy” I chuckle, frowning at the packs in front of me.

“You need to sleep” he states. “I’ll be in my room.”

“No” my voice is a little too enthusiastic. “Maybe we could eat together before you go to sleep…”

He smiles.

This is a simple smile, but it makes my heart miss a beat because of how pure it is. His wrinkles highlighting it with the charm of his age, wearing every adventures he lived like crowns of bravery.

He’s not the young impetuous wolf he was in those books anymore, he grew in the best way possible : nobly.

And still the afraid little girl inside is exited to meet her superhero, because he really is exactly that.

I can’t let myself be blinded by that smile… Life doesn’t work like that.

“I swear this stupid town, not even beers ? Come one !” he grunts, putting all the packs on the bed, before sitting on it. “Can’t wait to be home.”

I sit next to him, enjoying the sight of his large, manly hands grabbing those tiny M&Ms to stuff his mouth with it.

“Tell me about your home” I say, crossing my legs.

He turns to me, a serious look on his face, searching for his words.

“It’s my very first home…”

“Yeah” I nod, remembering the books I read a hundred times.

“It’s huge” another, tinier, smile. “And it’s legacy…”

While he explains how he got the key to that bunker, I nibble on the little balls of chocolate, trying to keep my mind off the deaths I caused, and fighting the urge to yawn, because I really don’t want him to think he has to leave right now. I’m exhausted, but I desperately want him to stay.

His story is fascinating, and for me, it is a fairy tale. Discovering you own a place like this, after a life of roaming… It was the best my brave hero could get after the end of the books. I spent my life trying to build a home for myself but maybe I just don’t deserve one.

Like I don’t deserve that friendship Dean is offering me so naturally, his whole tall body spread in the bed so casually, as if we had been close for years. His long legs crossed, heavy shoes on the mattress, his elbow holding him up, turned toward me, bathing me in those legends that belong to him with such a simple trust.

Flashes of my phone call to him fight to come back, and the more I try to chase them, the more I remember my body craving, clenching around my own fingers in frustration.

And it’s already too late.

I’m suddenly too aware of his arms muscles flexing to grab the chips, of the leather belt at his waist, resting on the little piece of skin showing there, of the perfect line of his jaw and his delicious smell.

There is something about Dean Winchester. Something that has nothing to do with this deep respect I have for him, with the fascination I feel for a hunter so legendary, with that trust I could give him way too soon and the one he is offering me without any question…

It is something physical that I never thought I would feel. Sex, for me, was always a way… A way to pass time, not be alone, let go some stress, forget, or even manipulate –even if I’m not proud of this one-. It was never a need.

Dean makes me want, that’s annoying enough. But the bastard makes me need.

I have to get rid of that, before my brain mixes it with this stupid hero myth it created, and start confusing want with feelings. I really don’t need feelings…

I put the M&Ms down and lick my lips.

Get rid of that need.

Take what I want and make him fall from his pedestal.

“Dean…” I cut him in the middle of the British Men of Letters story, and he looks up at me while I sit up.

If he doesn’t want that, he’ll make a sign or say a word, but I heard he’s still pretty fond of one night stands.

In a deep sigh, I loose no time, and get closer to straddle his lap, the simple gesture of spreading my thighs above him, without any contact, starting a fire inside me.

“Y/n…” he groans low, his pupils dilating right away and his face changing radically, from a friendly puppy to a wolf in a split second.

His hands firmly grab my waist, the pure strength irradiating of him already making me drip in anticipation.

I bend and, for a second, I see he’s ready to kiss me. But I won’t kiss him. I won’t indulge in giving him this tender gesture, something that might let him think this is anything more than sex.

Kisses are too important.

My lips find his neck instead, and I sensually roll my body on his while they start to suck at it.

“Y/n” he lets his head fall on the pillow and lifts his hips a little, pressing his crotch between my legs in a help back moan.

“That phone call left me craving for the real thing” I murmur in his ear.

“Me too…” he groans, his fingers digging in my thighs harshly. “You have no idea…”

I finally sit on him, fully enjoying the hard feeling of his too full jeans on my folds, starting to rub through the fabric, desperate to finally feel in there.

“Fuck, don’t tease me” his voice is hoarse, veins showing on his neck that I want to kiss.

But kiss is too important.

So my hands find his belt, and while I open it, I stare at his mouth, agape and plumb, and at his chest going up and down.

The second the belt and the button of his jeans are open, he lifts his hips to wriggle and push it down with his underwear, just enough to free his cock.

I want to kiss it too… And its veins are calling me like the veins on the side of his throat. But instead, I wrap my hand around the velvety skin and lick my lips, guiding it to my still covered entrance, just to tease both of us, his precum joining the wet stain between my legs.

“The real thing, Sweetheart” he grunts, unable to keep himself from pushing up in my hand and against me.

When I move again, it’s only to take my sweatpants and panties off, immediately straddling him again.

“Fuck yes” he moans, his piercing eyes between my legs, and his lip between his teeth.

I’m high.

A drop of my own juice falls on the head of his cock heavily, and I know I’m already panting but I don’t really care.

Taking his length in my hand, I lift my hips, starving for him, and push the head to my entrance.

“Shit” I gasp, feeling my body resist just a little before it swallows the first part of him hungrily.

“Oh God, Y/n…” he cries out, short nails digging in my sweating thighs.

It only takes me a few seconds to welcome him entirely, stretching myself faster than usual because of how wet and eager I am. And when I do, I don’t lose a second.

Placing my two hands flat on his chest, I start rolling my hips, grinding, and finally bouncing up and down in haste, unable to get enough of the feeling of him so deep inside of me, twitching hard and stretching me with no mercy.

“Sweetheart, easy…” he pants. “Or I won’t l-last long.”

But I’m too far gone, and I want him to come so bad.

In my high, I start needing things I never thought I needed : I want him to let the wolf out, to push me down on that mattress and take everything, to force a kiss on my mouth, to make my defenses shatter…

“Fuck… Dean !” I moan loud, my stretched out arms still keeping me from being too close to that temptation that could break me, too close to that dangerous man.

“Yes… Yes… Fuck…” he praises, now closing his eyes tight, his daring huge hands going under my shirt to hold my waist, his thumb digging in my ribs.

And, surprising him totally, I come first ; hard and brutally in a desperate groan.

“OH MY… F-F-FUCK” he cries out, feeling my walls strongly clenching around him and my restless thighs crushing his hips.

Grabbing me fiercely by the neck, he makes my lips crush on his, almost making us break some teeth, while he empties himself deep inside of me, not really kissing me, but panting and biting my lips and moaning with his jaw clenched.

This is the hottest thing that even happened to me, and my orgasm becomes so long I’m afraid I might pass out… My face now buried in his neck, I hold on to his shoulders.

Then nothing. Silence and heavy breathing ; his hand lazily stroking my back slower and slower.

I wait a minute before I grab his softening cock to take it out in a hiss… and a few more minutes before I dare looking up.

He is asleep.

I smile for myself, adoringly admiring his face, and take a deep breath.

You had it. It’s over now.

I get up slowly, and grab my pants, along with the key to the other room, looking one last time to him.

I really hope it’s over now.

He didn’t say a word when he came to my room to wake me ; and he didn’t say a word in the car during the four hours drive left to reach the bunker. He gave me the rest of the snacks from yesterday with a smile, a coffee in a plastic cup, and put some music on…

By the time he enters the garage, my heart is beating fast. I’m nervous for so many reasons, overthinking everything.

Hoping it wouldn’t damage our young friendship. Hoping I won’t feel like I felt in the shelters I tried a long time ago. That I won’t be a burden, that I will have my freedom, that I will find the vampires that killed the closest I had to friends, that I will win this war…

When I enter the bunker for the first time, my breath gets stuck in my chest, and my eyes can’t take everything.

This place is a palace, and the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

And when Dean kindly offers me a visit, I understand the true value of it, and I have to hold back my tears :

It is not its size or its warmth that makes it a true home. It’s the perfect details that are witnesses of the life going on here.

It’s the glass that someone forgot on the table, the phone charger lazily dangling from the wall, the smell of coffee in the kitchen, the flannel on the chair of the bathroom, the toothbrush stain in the sink, Sam’s smell coming out of his bedroom, the post-it that says “Jody bday Friday”, the initials carved on the library’s table, the pie in the fridge…

And Dean’s voice. Dean’s voice calling me to show me the control room.

His voice so new to me, and yet so familiar.

That’s what makes it a home.

And I wish I was legacy, that it could be my home too…

________________________

***FEEDBACK IS GOLD***

Forever Tags : @parinarain @animegirlgeeky @mogaruke @masterof-agony @rainflowermoon @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @roonyxx @thefaithfulwriter @vicariouslythruspn @emeow1496 @daryldixonandfrogs @holylulusworld @cocklesbelli @sandlee44 @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx @hawaiianohana31 @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @sister-winchesters99 @neii3n @alanegaming @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid @hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj @i-love-superhero @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks @fangirlxwritesx67 @mrspeacem1nusone @stylesismyhubs @deanwanddamons @jawritter @peridottea91 @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart

I don’t need you tags : @charmed-asylum @prettydeaneyes @hellsenthero

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural Dean Winchester #SPN #spn fic #SPNFamily #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #Smut #dean winchester smut #angst #dean x y/n #dean x reader #jay-and-dean

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artisticestheticreads · 4 years

Text

ROXANNE

A/N: So, I have been hearing this song every where and ending up downloading when I got an idea for this one shot. I think I saw a one shot by @hearteyes-for-killmonger (I could be wrong though. It was so long ago.) where Erik raced a woman but this is nothing like that. I was just inspired by the racing idea.

Warning: nothing...I don’t think.

Song Recommendation: ROXANNE - Arizona Zervas

Word Count: 1685

It was a very chill, basic night and Erik was of course in his flashy all matte black Jaguar. He was playing music from the late and great TuPac, bopping his head. Erik was stuck at home but decided to go out for a drive and maybe pull up to the Mexican Food spot.

He was stuck at a red light when a Lambo, all gold pulled up beside him on his left. He was giving the gentleman his props in his head since he couldn’t see pass the other car’s tinted windows. The other driver looked over at Erik as their freshly manicured hands gripped the wheel, revving up their engine.

“This nigga don’t know who he dealing with”, Erik chuckled as he did the same. As the green light flashed, they were off. They both maneuvered through traffic with ease and Erik had to admit he was impressed; Erik took a look at the driver’s license plate and read ROXXX. The other driver spun in a circle making them drive backwards as the top went down and what Erik saw surprised him even more. It was a brown skin woman with auburn hair, blow dried curls with a pair of cute cheeks, and full glossed lips and dimples.

The woman winked as she spun back around, driving ahead of Erik. Erik smirked slyly and caught; up checking her out more before they both stopped at the light. He leaned out his window on his arms and said “what you know about driving like that, little one?” She looked at him as her hands were 10 and 2, looked at him with lustful brown eyes and said “way more than you pretty boy.”

Erik smirked as they still waited; eyes on the lights. He spoke out loud and said “you should give me your number. So we can race again sometime.” She shook her head and said ”only if you beat me. Where ya heading to?”

“The Mexican food joint up the way.”

“Rosa’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Aight, if I win, you gotta pay for my food and I don’t give you my number.”

“What if I win?”

She giggled as she smiled and said “that’s if ya beat me, handsome.” She drove past him and he eventually caught up. They were neck and neck when he looked over at her. The street lights flowed against her exposed arms which were covered in numerous tattoos and look as if she was nude. Her eyes were on the street ahead in the zone when she turned left so he turned right. Erik couldn’t help but think about Roxxx. He barely knew her but wanted to get to at least. Her style in cars and driving techniques were phenomenal and he wanted to just pick her brain. How can a beautiful woman like that be so good at driving? I mean it was 2020 and woman could do anything men did but maybe even better. He also wondered what else she can ride.

Erik pulled up to the spot and noticed her car wasn’t around. He shook his head as he thought she left him hanging. He stepped out of his car fixing his tossed locs and Levi jeans with crisp white tee and all white Adidas. “Finally you got here”, he heard from across the street. There she stood, leaning on her car with arms and ankles crossed. Her shapely figure was covered by a white tube top, a pair of jean shorts and white Converse. Her thigh was home for a panther tattoo and cheetah print on her opposite calf. She threw her sunglasses behind her in the car and began walking towards him across the street.

It seemed as if they were in slow motion because he watched as the bounce in her thighs, chest and hair reflected the headlights of the cars who had stopped. He stood smirking to himself once she got onto the curb. He looked down at her small physique and said “you are a little one, huh?” She looked away smirking then back to him and said “at least I didn’t lose, big man. You own me some tacos.” She walked past and he got the perfect view of her behind. He bit his lip but heard “ya comin’ or you just gonna stare at my ass the whole time, chief?” Roxxx turned to him slightly until he started walking.

There they stood, side by side looking up at the menu. Erik looked at the 5’6 ½ woman and noticed her beautiful round face as she paid him no mind. She tucked her hair behind her ear and showed off her dagger tattoo on her neck right behind the ear. “Gah damn, this girl is fine as hell. Look at her all bronze and flawless and shit. It was worth losing to her. She probably make a nigga bow down to her Shit, I’m wit it”, he thought to himself. She looked down at her nails and around until she saw Erik who now looked at the menu. ”Hm, damn he is good looking as fuck. He can dress, keeps his nails clean. I don’t see ring on his finger. Look like he can break backs, necks and hearts if he wanted too. Beard full and I know he got a big d-“, she thought but was interrupted by the cashier. “Yeah, my bad. I want four tacos, with everything, carne asada and green chile salsa on the side. Oh and a large pina colada slushie.”

“I’ll get a wet chicken burrito, no beans, extra meat and cheese and salsa on the side with a root beer”, said Erik as he pulled out a roll of money from his pocket. “That will be $24.94” said the man in a think Spanish accent; Erik handed him the exact amount and they grabbed their drinks. She led the way out to the side tables and said on the bench; he sat beside her. “So, who taught you how to drive”, he asked sipping his drink. Roxxx sipped from hers and said “my god mom. She was racer while I was growing up until she got ill. She still around but she ain’t racing no more. What about you?”

“My damn self. I grew up by myself”, Erik said matter of factually. Roxxx pulled her straw in and out and she stirred her drink as he watched. “What’s her name”, she asked and Erik got confused until she said “ya car. What’s her name?” He chuckled and said “you asking my car name but not mine?” She rolled her eyes and looked at him. “Fine, what is yours then?”

“Erik but everyone call me Killmonger.”

“Killmonger? Like the ex vet?” He looked at her with a rose brow and asked “how you know that?”

“You cool with my god brother, D’Angelo. The dark skin with the dark hair and gap in between his teeth.” Erik smiled and said “awe shit. Yeah, I am. We go way back.” Roxxx nodded and said “yeah, I know. I mean you and I never met because I moved around a lot but D used to talk about you a lot until…”, Roxxx stopped at the memory of seeing her late brother murdered in front of his home. She still remembered the new reports saying how he was a blood but that was all fake news. D’Angelo was just a video game nerd who never held a gun outside of GTA. She missed him a lot but the tears wouldn’t bring him back. Erik nodded and said “yeah, I remember when his girl told me. I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t be. Shit happens. D’Angelo actually thought convinced me into get Goldie over there. That’s was his name for her but I thought it was a cheesy name so I named him Angel”, she sipped her drink with a small smile and he did the same. “So, what you do”, he asked and she told him “nothing much. I race every once a week for tons of money. I usually get top three and get at least 200,000 for a race.” Erik nodded and said “that’s a shit ton of money.” She giggled and said “that’s why I do it, Killmonger.” They smiled at one another and soon ate when the employee came out. They talked more and after they ate, they did more. “So, you telling me Love and Basketball is wack”, Erik asked and Roxxx nodded. “It would still be good if they didn’t outplay that shit on BET.” Erik chuckled as they dapped one another and Roxxx watched him. “Does your girl watch it”, she asked making Erik smile. “I don’t got one.”

“Why ya lying” I know you got plenty of women on ya dick, 24/7.”

“Nah, I ain’t feeling it. What about you? With how ya looking, I know you got niggas drooling when you come their way.” She smirked and said “nah, I just let ‘em drool.” They began walking towards his car and stood there for a couple of seconds. “Thanks for the food. I’ll check ya around”, she said about to walk away but Erik pulled her back gently to him. “So, you ain’t gonna give me ya number”, he asked and she shook her head. He pressed his tongue against his cheek shaking his head and she smiled. “But I’ll take yours.” She pulled out her phone, unlocked it and handed it to him so he can put his number in. She looked down at the number and texted it with a car emoji. She shook his hand slowly and said “good night, Killmonger.” “Good night, Roxxx.” She saluted him and went to her car getting in and he followed; he realized something as she pulled away and followed behind. Both stopped side by side at a red light and he hollered “you never told me ya name.” She smiled, looked over and said “my name is Roxanne.” The both smirked at one another as she drove off heading home, leaving him with nothing but hope to see her again.

*𝕋𝔸𝔾𝔾𝔼𝔻 𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼𝕊*

@muse-of-mbaku @im5ftbutmythroat66 @chaneajoyyy @melanin-samii @theunsweetenedtruth @doux-ciel @unicornluvin8765 @vikkidc @wakandantings @thadelightfulone @mzamethystp @simbiann @tropicalsun10 @babydoll756 @notoriouslynay @vminax @quinsly @pinkdemolition @quietstorm-73 @chaoticcashfancroissant @bugngiz @chocolatedippedinhoney @yafavcocoa @lostgalaxies @mbakuwife @youreadthatright @babygotl01292003 @acceptyourselfloveyourself @madamslayyy @yoyolovesbucky @theogbadbitch @wakanda-inspired @bitchacho25 @toniilaney @wakandascrystal @girlsneedlovingfanfics @raysunshine78 @melodyofmbaku @hearteyes-for-killmonger @silenceisplatinum @thickemadame @shookmcgookqueen @heykillmongerluhme @fonville-designs @cutewylie @allhailqueennel @10bsatatime @nickidub718 @lildashofmelanin @allhailqueennel @amirra88 @hakunalive4eva @thickemadame @ghostfacekill-monger @cherrystainedlipsbaby

#Erik Stevens #Erik Killmonger #erik stevens x reader #Erik Kilmonger #Erik killmonger x Reader #bp fanfic #bp fandom #bp masterlist #artisticestheticreads #ROXANNE SERIES

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hermionemonica · 4 years

Text

Destination: Chapter 3

Welcome to the third chapter! Thank you for appreciating my work so far, and thank you for sticking around! I cannot emphasize how grateful I am to you all! There's less sadness here and things actually start rolling. So, enjoy!

(I own none of the characters of this universe. This is merely a fan fiction.)

AO3 link

First chapter || Previous chapter

Finally, thought Adrien. After weeks of requesting and begging, his father had finally allowed him to go out with his friends. Every time he had asked, some photoshoot or press event would always come up. He secretly wondered if his father intentionally scheduled those in such a way that he could not meet his friends. Because honestly, he had never quite liked Adrien's friends. Nino was a taboo in the Agreste mansion since the Bubbler incident, Alya was only “the girl who runs the Ladyblog". The only person whom his father seemed to treat with some respect was Marinette; he remembered her as the girl who had designed the hat which Adrien wore to his father's fashion show.

Marinette.

His beautiful, talented, kind, amazing classmate. His everyday Ladybug.

His friend, who had once been in love with him.

It was Kagami who had told him that Marinette had been in love with him for more than a year.

“I am surprised, how could you have never noticed? She was hopelessly in love with you!”

Marinette had been in love with him. The awesome girl whom he had admired since she stood up to Chloe in class, she had been in love with him. And he had never noticed. Seriously, how stupid could he have been?

Strangely, his father had seemed particularly interested in Marinette for a while. He had been surprised to know that it was Kagami he was dating. Adrien recollected the conversation.

“Father, I just wanted you to know that I have a girlfriend now.”

Adrien thought he saw a glint in his father's eye as he spoke. “Well, I believe it was only a matter of time before you got involved with Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

“What, Marinette? No father, I am dating Kagami.”

“Oh,” his father had been surprised, “Well, Miss Tsurugi is a pleasant candidate too.”

‘Candidate'. Adrien laughed. As if this was a competition. Although to be honest, that was probably how Kagami saw it. She was constantly pushing him for more and more. She refused to take things slow. And towards the end, she had started to demand an explanation of what he had been doing or where he had been at any time. She almost detested the times when he chose to hang out with his friends instead of with her. It was like she wanted him to be hers and hers only.

Like he was a prize she had won.

And that’s what led to their break-up.

“I cannot do this anymore, Kagami.”

“What are you talking about, Adrien?”

“I don't want to be with you anymore. You’re making it too hard. I-I just can't breathe.”

“So, you want to break up with me?”

“I am sorry Kagami.”

“I knew this day would come. I had been mistaken, you do not belong with me,” Kagami placed her hand on his shoulder. “I just have one thing to say. Follow your heart; it will lead you to your destination.”

And that had been it.

Adrien had feared Kagami would get upset, and maybe she would end up akumatised. But none of that happened. It was almost as if she had been expecting this to happen.

But Adrien was yet to figure out Kagami's last advice. He was confused about his heart. Kagami had never made him feel the way Ladybug had. And now, Ladybug was even further away from his reach than she ever had been. But Adrien had long reconciled himself to that.

The ring on his phone shook Adrien out of his reverie. He picked the phone and saw Nino’s contact name displayed on the screen.

“Hey, Nino, what's up?”

“Just calling to check on you dude. You still up for the Louvre, right?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Okay, see you in an hour!”

Adrien went to take a quick shower. Nino’s call had made him feel all the more excited. And in spite of himself, he found himself thinking about the one person he was more excited to meet today than anyone else.

Marinette.

It was strange, how he had started to spend most of his time thinking about her. It was almost as if thinking about her made him feel happy. Over the past couple of months, they had grown much closer than they used to be, which meant they got to spend more time together. And every day, Adrien found himself being more and more blown away by this wonder of a girl. Everything about her was so amazing. And when he was with her, he felt this unexplained warmth in his chest, that made him think of all the good things in life.

Not unexpectedly, his thoughts distracted him and he took a bit longer in the bathroom than he normally would have.

“Ready for your day out, kid?” Plagg asked from his cheese corner.

“I am, but you aren’t.”

“What do you mean? I’m always presentable!”

“No, you’re not. Not until you get rid of that gross smell of cheese!”

“That is an unthinkable insult to my precious baby!”

“Oh shut up! You have to clean up if you want to come with me today. I don’t want to be smelling like stinky cheese today.”

“Ah, of course! Gotta impress the girlfriend, huh?”

“Plagg, you know Kagami isn’t going to be here today.”

“I wasn’t talking about her.”

That statement confused him, but a summon from Nathalie made him hurry. Much to Plagg’s chagrin, Adrien sprayed him with the same deodorant that he was wearing on himself. He was downstairs in a few minutes.

His father had insisted that his bodyguard drop him at the Louvre. Although that wasn't quite to his liking, Adrien had conceded to it. He would have loved to walk with his friends, but he had given in, thinking it to be a small price to pay in return for an entire afternoon with his best friends.

When Adrien got there, he found Nino was already waiting for him. “Adrien, you're here! The girls should be here any moment now.”

They had barely exchanged pleasantries when they heard Alya’s voice, “Are you boys done with your love-fest already?”

“Alya!”

At Marinette's voice, Adrien turned around with a smile. But as soon as his eyes found her, his smile was replaced by a deep blush that spread over his cheeks.

Marinette was wearing her hair down. Just like that day when she had helped him and Kagami escape from the Bourgeois party.

Her raven locks fell on her shoulders, and a few strands framed her face. And when she walked, her tresses danced in the breeze just a little. And she took his breath away just like she had the first time. Because she looked beautiful. So beautiful. It took him a few moments to recover. And then he took in the rest of her.

Her outfit, that is.

She was wearing a black t-shirt with a large green paw-print at the centre. She had paired it with a pair of shorts in matching green, and a pair of high-heeled black boots.

Adrien felt his breath catch in his chest.

Marinette was wearing a Chat Noir inspired outfit. And from the looks of it, she had designed it herself.

Adrien felt a little shaky at the knees. Marinette had created that outfit with her own hands. She had made the design thinking about him. She had sewed it thinking about him. She had put it on thinking about him. He could not explain why his heart-beat accelerated at that thought.

“Doesn't she look really pretty?” a voice brought him back to reality.

“She does,” Adrien answered dreamily, and then he recognised the voice who had asked the question.

Luka.

“Hey Luka, I didn't know you were coming?”

The reply to his question came from Marinette. “He was free today so I dragged him along. I hope it won't be a problem?”

“Of course not, girl!” Alya said, but Adrien didn't quite agree with her.

The afternoon turned out to be much less fun than what Adrien had expected. At least for him. Nino was with Alya, and Marinette was with Luka. And Adrien ended up third-wheeling with either of them. Of course, they tried to involve Adrien in every activity as much as they could, and there were times when the five of them did something together. But most of the time they stayed with their partners and he ended up being the odd one out. He couldn't really blame his friends though.

Adrien was used to third-wheeling with Nino and Alya, because he had been doing so ever since they had started dating. But it used to be easier before, because he had never been left alone. Marinette would be with him. Even though they weren’t “together”, it was nice to have someone third-wheeling with him. For a moment, he wondered if there was someone he could call over to join him, but he couldn’t go ahead with that. Because he didn’t think he’d enjoy third-wheeling with anyone as much as he would with Marinette.

But now, Marinette was with Luka, not with him. And they were “together”. For some reason, that thought made him feel even worse than being left out. Adrien could not ignore the way he felt a burning sensation in his chest every time he looked at Marinette and Luka. For the first time in his life, Marinette's smiles made him angry, because it was not him she was smiling at.

What did Luka have that he didn't?

Woah, where did that come from?

Wait, was he jealous? Of what Marinette and Luka had?

And then, all the emotions he had been subconsciously pushing away came to him in a rush.

He was jealous that Marinette was with Luka. He was jealous of the attention Marinette was giving to Luka. He was jealous that Luka was allowed to be so close to her and he wasn’t.

He wanted to be the one who held Marinette's hand. He wanted to be the one who made Marinette smile.

He wanted to be Marinette's one.

“Are you okay, kid?” Plagg called out from inside his pocket. “You have been silent for a while.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Now I am.”

Next Chapter

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msilwrites · 4 years

Text

Addio al celibato

A/N: Errr... so I finally had enough sleep and inspiration to write whilst at home. Enjoy!

This story is the continuation of ‘The Strange Woman’.

Genre: Action/ Drama / Comedy

Sandro Balestreri - Michele Morrone

Tilly McLeod - is an original female character

Will McLeod - Liam Neeson

Henry McLeod - Henry Cavill

Addio al celibato

Sandro’s POV

I thought the next time I would see Tilly would be at the wedding. I had almost forgotten of the parties that are to take place before the event. There was the preparations for the wedding, the engagement party, and her Addio al Nubilato.

Tilly told me that she would take care of the all wedding preparations, including financially, and my job was just to show up on the wedding day. I was of course, insulted again. Though I am now fully aware that Tilly is capable in handling details, I didn’t like the way she seemed to doubt my capabilities, and made me feel that I wasn’t dependable enough as a man.

“But Sandro, I’m just helping you by getting rid of the burdens... so I’ll handle everything. After all, this is an arranged marriage, I know my own place and I am sure you would want nothing to do with this wedding or marriage.” was her reply. I didn’t like her answer. She often make it sound like I’m ‘useless’ and intolerable. Of course, despite this being an arranged marriage, it never meant that I was unwilling to help out with the preparations. In the end she had agreed with a smile and she had begrudgingly let me play a part.

When I was helping out with the preparations, I had managed to get a look at the invitations she had sent out for the party and wedding. To my surprise, her Addio al nubilato invitation included those big ‘La Familias’ which makes it suspicious. I am fully aware that this woman is the daughter of one of Scotland’s laird, and secretly the most dangerous mob boss with the big cannabis empire, but she didn’t look like she had any involvement with her family’s business. Nor does she look like someone who can even kill an ant. Moreover, isn’t an ‘Addio al nubilato’ supposed to have women as a guest only?!

“Oh, they’re family friends, of course, I must invite them! And well, no one really made the rule that you can’t invite men to a bride’s party as long as they are the bride’s entourage, right?” was her quick answer. “Well, everyone does the same thing differently.” she added, before turning her back to me in a hurry, leaving my office.

For some reason, there is this nagging feeling telling me that there is indeed something strange with Tilly. Warnings were flashing in my head, and I couldn’t pinpoint what it was? So out of suspicion, I asked my right hand man Emil to keep a watch at her, and that includes escorting her to her own bridal shower. To my surprise Tilly was fine with it and thought nothing of it.

**********

To Emil’s surprise, his cousin’s bride, despite her dry british humor, was actually funny and easy to get along with. He didn’t understand what was Sandro so suspicious about his harmless wife to be. Throughout the car ride to the venue, Tilly spent mosts of her time, answering phone calls either about work or the party preparations.

When they finally arrived at the place, Emil was impressed with how Tilly organized her whole bridal party. It felt like some sort of rustic/gothic neo-noir carnival, with fire dancers and breathers.

A funky jazz rock band complete with saxophones,strings, drums and rock guitar was playing on the side which surprisingly played good music, matching the atmosphere. There was also a magician who was set to perform. The decorations, and food looked very superb. A bar was stationed in the side, serving the bride’s favourite type of red wine, craft beers and whiskey. On the other was a barbecue pit, roasting what looked like a large piece of lamb and on the table was a large antipasto filled with pancetta, different types of cheese, grapes, and many more finger foods. The table was also decorated with purple flowers, black candles and black lace tablecloth.

On the centre was a black tiered cake decorated with flowers, according to Tilly, it was her favourite caramel banana and dark chocolate cake.

For some reason it felt like some sort of gothic Hogwarts has graced in Sicily. He couldn’t be more certain about it, specially when Tilly’s guest arrived.

The first to arrive were her family; her parents William and Ottilie Mcleod and her younger brother Henry McLeod. The roar of the big bikes they rode to the venue could be heard from afar. WillIam with his wife sitting behind him, rode ahead of their son. When they unmounted from their bikes, they quickly greeted their daughter with lots of hugs and a kiss in the forehead. To Emil’s surprise, he never would’ve thought the he would one day see the tough mob boss William and his wife cry, whilst saying that they ‘never thought this day would come’. Whilst Henry, her younger brother blew his nose, who also ended up in tears.

“Da, Mum . You know it’s just 3 hours from Edinburgh to Italy” he reasoned.

A few minutes later, the rest of the entourage arrived. Emil could already guest their arrival even from afar. The roar of the bikes were very loud, especially the fact that it was a big group that was approaching.

Tilly’s brother Henry passed his sister a fancy paper bag which contained a leather jacket that was embroidered with the word, “Bride”. She quickly wore it, and pinched her brother’s cheeks as a way of saying thank you, before walking to the reception to welcome the rest of her guest.

Her guests parked their bikes, and alighted whilst taking off their helmets. Emil would’ve mistaken the event for a GQ photoshoot because of how dapper her guests looked. The men wore black suits and the women wore black dresses paired with biker jackets, following the dark theme of the party.

“Emil! come, you are my guest for today, so please enjoy the party.” Tilly called.

For some reason Emil was very sure that he would enjoy Tilly’s party instead of his cousin Sandro’s Addio Al Celebato and didn’t regret going with her.

**********

The sound of groans echoed throughout the whole hotel room. Sandro looked down at the woman who was writhing beneath him, whilst he thrust into her continuously. The woman have come up to him during his bachelor party. Despite being dressed classy, she looked seductive and had provoke the men in his party, including him.

Hitting a sensitive spot inside her, the woman moaned causing her to arch her back like a cat. The woman and Sandro finished together with a final thrust and both fell back into the bed. He couldn’t understand why, that thought he was with another woman right now, he was thinking of another. None other than his wife to be, Mathilda McLeod.

The report that Emil had sent to him earlier regarding her party crossed his mind. Tilly looked happy and had a glow in her cheeks. She looked genuinely happy with the smiles she gave to her guests compared to the ones she had given Sandro, which often looked forced and stiff.

He shook the thought about Tilly out of his head, and his thoughts went to Emil. That traitor... Emil refused to come over to Sandro’s party and he also had the nerve to say that boring English woman throws a better party than him, claiming that ‘Hogwarts’ full of ‘deatheaters’ was better than a pumping nightclub with drinks, hot girls and strippers.

His thoughts was interrupted when his companion offered her full red lips for a kiss which he denied. A behaviour that was unlikely of him. Ever since he had met that oddball Tilly, all he could think about was her. He hated to admit, that he was intrigued by her and her ‘oddness’.

Dismissing his companion, he told her to get dressed and leave. Glancing at the woman, he couldn’t help but compare her to Tilly. The disparity between her and the women he usually went for, including the one who he had just slept with, was great.

It annoyed and confused him. It was after all an unfamiliar feeling. Despite Tilly’s sunny disposition, she didn’t look at him like mosts women did. She had not made a move to seduce and sleep with him, much less talk to him, unless it was related to the wedding and their arrangements.

It wasn’t long before he was out and away from both the hotel room and the woman inside.

Tapping absentmindedly on the steering wheel of his car, he didn’t realize that he had already arrived home. He checked the time and realized that it was already three in the morning. Alighting out his car, he snapped his head at the direction of the loud roar of multiple engines, approaching the estate. He quickly went up to the terrace to see what was all that noise.

In front of the Range Rover he had provided Tilly as a ride, a group of men and women dressed in black suits and dresses rode their motorbikes until the gate, his bride-to-be, was seating behind another person, her hands, on the shoulder of the man. And for some reason, a pang of jealousy hit him.

Tilly alighted, and kissed the man’s cheek, before all of the riders, blew their horns and cheered, whilst riding away from the estate.

Sandro headed downstairs to meet them, and saw Emil, his two bodyguards, and Tilly, talking whilst laughing as they enter the casa.

“I see that you all had fun...” was Sandro’s ‘greeting’.

Emil and his two bodyguards quickly stood up straight. Whilsts Tilly’s smile faded upon seeing Sandro. This not only annoyed him, but also bothered him.

“Well, good night, Madame Tilly!” Emil bows with a fake english accent, “Bye Sandro!” he adds, before he leaves the house with his two bodyguards in tow.

When it was just the two of them, it became awkward because of the silence, so Tilly made the first move, attempting to excuse herself to head upstairs in her room and call it a night. However, Sandro had stopped her midway.

“Who was that just now?” he asked, sounding a little more confrontational.

“Huh? That was Emil...” she answered whilst her brows furrowed. Was there someone else there?

“I mean the man you kissed in the cheek... who was that?”

“Oh... that was-” before she could even finish, Sandro quickly interjects.

“I know that this is an arranged marriage, but it is viewed differently when the woman is the one who cheats... I know you told me to be discreet, but couldn’t you do the same for yourself?” he mentions, which sounded like an accusation. He didn’t mean it but he quickly realized his mistake as her expression changed.

She looked at him and chuckled, what he expected to be the stiff smile she often gave, turned into something else. Her lips twisted into a contemptuous smile, the wrinkle of joy in the corner of her blue eyes disappeared, and her expression turned cold. “That was my younger brother, Henry. You will meet him at the wedding.” she says, devoid of any affection.

Sandro felt guilty for accusing her, but it soon turned into surprise when she suddenly walked towards him. Her cold eyes looking straight at him, not wavering, causing him to step backwards as she was getting a little too close for comfort. Tilly might only be 5′2 and a half, but Sandro felt that it as if she stood tall like him.

Tilly touched his neck with a flick of a finger, hitting his skin. “Ipocrita...” she says in a low stern voice before walking away, but not before giving him a cold glare.

Sandro’s eyes widened in disbelief at her audacity and what she had just said. Only for him to realize that he had almost forgotten about the hickey that was on his neck.

By the way, if you want to read the previous story, here it is, ‘The Strange Woman’.

The Next Part of this story is here; The Wedding

A/N: I will be editing this because I probably have made a number of grammatical errors. I hope you enjoyed the story. FYI. It will be a series of one shots

#Mafia #IronLady #Iron Lady #Independent Woman #Michele Morrone #Michele Morrone Face Claim #Michele Morrone Fan Fiction #Michele Morrone FanFiction #original female character #Michele Morrone x OFC #Michele Morrone x OC #Michele Morrone x Original Female Character #Original Story #Massimo Torricelli #Massimo Torricelli Face Claim #Massimo Torricelli Inspired #Drama #Action #Comedy

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