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delirious-donna · 18 days

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A Kiss But At What Cost? [Part Seven]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: The time calls for a movie night and one you’ll be sure to rope Kento into. A good old-fashioned slasher movie sounds just right, but how will the end of the night go once you’re all spooked out?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: SFW, fluff, two oblivious idiots, yet more emotions, bad communication, mentions of horror movies and tropes, if you can tell me what the movie at the end is you get a gold star

Part Six | Series Masterlist | Part Eight

Popcorn? Check. Cozy blanket? Acquired.

“Hm…” You hummed quietly, turning on the spot in the living room. The lights were set low, the thickest of the blankets from the basket in the corner ready for you to crawl beneath for your movie night, but something was missing.

A drink, of course.

Padding back into the kitchen, you bent your head to investigate the contents of the fridge, debating on a Diet Coke or a beer. The noise of someone clearing their throat made you jump, bumping your head into the door of the fridge in the action of whirling around.

“Ouch!”

Kento winced before quickly schooling his features into neutrality. You turned with a frown etched on your brow, and he couldn’t blame you for it this time. Moving forward, he stood by your side to reach inside and a grab out a bottle of beer, popping the top easily.

Your scowl deepened, more annoyed at the flutter in your stomach at his ease of opening the beer without even looking at the damn thing. “Aren’t you going to apologise?”

“Sorry,” he said with a shrug. “I didn’t think you’d still be so jumpy this far into our little arrangement.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a quick sip, eyes moving to the ceiling which presented you with the open opportunity to watch whilst his throat worked to swallow the frothy liquid, his Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

A thought leapt from the recesses of your brain, and your pout turned into a wicked smile before he could blink. How would mr ‘stick-in-the-mud’ cope with a couple of scary movies? It would be beyond hilarious if he turned out to be a scaredy cat given his imposing stature and presence, and the chance to find out was too delicious to pass up.

“Got plans this evening?” you asked with an expression you hoped looked nonchalant. Before he could answer, you pulled out a can of Diet Coke and cracked open the ring pull with a low hiss.

“None to speak of. Why?”

Your hand linked through his arm with a wide grin, pulling him away from the kitchen to the cozy little nook you’d crafted for your movie spree. You gestured towards it with a theatrical “ta dah” and glanced up to meet eyes of hazel alight with confusion and a hint of intrigue, if you weren’t much mistaken.

“What’s this? You’ve made a… nest on my couch,” Kento guessed, scanning the bowl of popcorn and bar of unopened chocolate resting on the faraway arm. He wasn’t so stupid not to realise that this was clearly a movie night, but he was doing his damnedest not to think too much about your hand curled around his bicep. One wrong move and you might take that touch away, and he didn’t want that, not yet.

“Wow. Don’t tell me you didn’t watch movies with Karin growing up, because I know it’ll be a lie. That girl is more of a film buff than I am, no way you escaped that.”

Kento scoffed. “You’re correct. I did not escape, though there were many times I sorely wish I had. If I have to watch When Harry met Sally one more time, I might do something drastic,” he admitted with a laugh.

“Not a fan of romcoms, Nanami?”

“I didn’t say that, and it’s Kento, stop changing it back. There are a few that I can…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Tolerate, I guess.”

Your eyebrows rose in clear curiosity. Slipping your hand out of his arm, you rounded the couch and settled next to your snacks to pat the seat next to you in invitation. Kento swallowed, a wash of heat licking up both sides of his neck and he fought the urge to pull at the neck of his sweater.

“I don’t have any romcoms on the menu for tonight, sadly…” You added just to see his eyes narrow and his lips thin in displeasure. “Come join me, please? I’ll even share my popcorn.”

A moment passed where you simply stared at one another, your heart in your throat at the thought of being rejected, but it didn’t come to pass. Kento took another swig of beer and made his way to you, sinking into the couch with a sigh of resignation that didn’t sound genuine at all. You hid your smile behind the can in your hand, twisting to look at him and meeting determined eyes.

Kento crossed an ankle over his knee, settling against the cushions. “I’ll pass on the popcorn, too noisy,” he teased, smirking when you blew a raspberry in his direction. “So, if it’s not lovey-dovey nonsense, what are we watching?”

He should have taken the wide, almost twisted grin as a hint, but once again he was oblivious to your devious ways. What a fool he was. Except, in the long run, you were the one who would have something to worry about…

A piercing scream tore through the sound system, followed immediately by one of your own, although thankfully not as loud. You pulled the blanket to your face, covering your eyes from the gore feast on the screen. It didn’t help that you could hear Kento chuckling by your side. So much for the idea that he might be the one taking the starring role as scream queen… dammit.

The first movie had been a classic, one you had both seen before and it was nice to be able to laugh along with your handsome companion at the overused tropes featured in many of the slasher movies from the eighties and nineties. Groaning almost in sync when the lead female chose to run deeper into the house than take the open door that led outside and booing when the killer miraculously managed to traverse the same distance as the comic relief sidekick without even breaking into a light jog.

It gave you time to indulge in conversation as well as keeping pace with the plot. You shoved him playfully when he refused to indulge your curiosities as to which, in his words, lovey-dovey movies he enjoyed. Not even your best pleading puppy eyes could get him to relent, the curl of his lips so telling of his enjoyment at your frustration.

However, he did share some juicy tidbits about his sister that you were sure to tuck away and use to embarrass Karin at a later date. She more than deserved it given that other than one short and snappy text message, you hadn’t heard from her in all the time you had been staying here. Some friend. The bluster was all feigned when you examined it, and you refused to dig any deeper.

Karin and Kento were so different you would have never guessed they were related, yet you liked them for completely different reasons. You wondered if you would keep in touch once… no, it couldn’t be like that, and you knew it deep down. This was a temporary situation that would be forgotten soon enough, you lied to yourself with a long swallow of your drink. It wasn’t worth ruining the evening by moping. Deciding it was for the best, regardless of what your heart tried to yell, you forced the feelings into a box and refocused on the here and now.

It warmed your heart to watch as Kento slowly relaxed further, his limbs losing the tension from when he first joined you, an arm draped along the back of the couch and his beer balanced on his thigh, hand loose around the glass bottle dripping in condensation. He was pretty funny when he wanted to be, making you nearly choke on your drink several times over when he offered his bitingly sarcastic commentary on the situation on screen. At times you thought his ears even looked a little red, but you couldn’t be sure given the lack of lighting. If it was true, then it was adorable that he got enjoyment from your genuine reactions to his jokes.

With the second movie fast approaching the climax of the horror, you regretted the decision to ramp things up. Most of the movie you had spent tucked tightly beneath the blanket covering your lap, squeaking at every little jump scare and even more so when Kento moved unsuspectedly. All of it was ammunition to the laughter Kento levelled at your expense, and more than once you reached out to smack at his arm with him feigning noises of hurt when you knew very well it was the lightest of touches.

Oh, he was a menace alright.

Kento, not for the first time during your stay, felt like he hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. He watched your bravado disappear in the face of a movie you weren’t familiar with, and tried not to think too deeply when he felt the desire to pull you into the side of his body. It wasn’t worth the headache. His beer was long finished, and his hands felt too empty, fingers twitching against his thigh and pinching at the stitched seam of the couch to distract himself from what he knew would be inappropriate thoughts. He would not sully this evening with his own selfish desires.

You shrieked once more when the villain popped out unexpectedly, however, this time you lunged sideways and buried your face into his arm that lay between you both. He nearly yelped himself, barely holding back the strangle of surprise when your nose rubbed into his bicep and your small fingers curled around his forearm. His heart rested in his throat, glancing down with wide eyes and almost missing when you spoke in a hushed whisper.

“Tell me when this bit is over.”

Tentatively, he lifted his arm and your hold tightened as if he were trying to shake you off. Kento murmured a gruff affirmation and refocused on the TV. You dared to lift your chin, blinking at his unwavering expression fixed straight ahead whilst he settled his arm around your shoulders and gently drew you closer. His jaw clenched, and you nearly backed away despite your heart hammering in your chest from the movie playing, but when his fingertips rubbed gently against your upper arm… it was game over.

You melted into his side, inhaling the scent of his expensive cologne surreptitiously and smiling into the soft knit of his sweater at the lingering aroma of coffee that infused his clothes. Clearly, he was a man that ran hot given the output he was currently kicking out and the longer you remained in this position, the less you felt like the blanket was necessary. It was far from unpleasant, in fact, you longed to wrap yourself in his warmth. Who needed a blanket when you could have him instead?

Closing your eyes, you smiled indulgently, knowing it would be hidden from view. This was nice—more than nice—it felt right. Like you belonged here, and you should make up for lost time by refusing to move when he inevitably tried to pry you off.

The moment didn’t come.

At last, when Kento signalled that you could look again, he didn’t make any move to shove you back to your corner of the couch as you had assumed he would. No, instead, he slouched deeper into the seat and rested his cheek atop your head like a boyfriend or a lover might do. It was comfortable, welcoming after all that had transpired in such a short space of time and honestly, you wished you had the courage to fist the front of his sweater and drag him into the desperate kiss you longed to bestow on his lips.

The walls that both you and Kento had built around yourselves were beginning to crumble like sandcastles being washed away by an approaching tide. The water was unstoppable, or so it seemed and the air in the room felt charged with possibilities.

The credits rolled and neither of you made a move. Kento held himself back for fear of something he couldn’t define, and you lacked the courage to be the first to act after the incident in the bar. Two idiots, that’s what you amounted to, and it was endlessly frustrating.

“I guess it’s time for bed,” Kento said, straightening in his seat but still making no effort to untangle you from his chest.

Alarmed, you jerked upwards and shook your head violently. “Oh no no no. There is no way you go straight to bed after horror movies!”

“I don’t plan on staying awake all night if that’s what you’re insinuating,” he countered with a sharp arch of one eyebrow. Your hand remained flush on his thigh now that you weren’t moulded into his body, and he did his best not to notice.

“No,” you pouted, exhaling loudly through your nose. “We watch something funny then go to bed. And you have to stay with me because…”

“… because you’re scared.”

You smacked him dead centre in his chest, rolling your eyes when his chuckle deepened into a rich baritone belly laugh that made your legs tremble. Thank god you were sitting down. “Shuddup.”

There was a part of you that wanted to retreat into his warmth, to make yourself a home in the space beneath his arm and listen to the beat of his heart until you found yourself too tired to resist the pull of sleep, but that was asking rather a lot.

Not for the first time, you wondered if he could read your mind, or if your thoughts were simply so obviously written across your face. Kento lifted the remote with his right hand and waved you towards him with the left. There was something unreadable in his expression, a tightness around the eyes and chiselled jawline. Again, you wondered how much of this he wanted to participate in, but the allure of his offer was too tempting to miss out on.

You resumed your position, legs tucked up and your torso leaning into the strong support of a man you were falling for. Fuck… why did it have to be like this? Closing your eyes for a moment’s reprieve, you resolved to do something about it—anything—because living this way, with these feelings and desires was taking its toll.

“That one,” you piped up when Kento passed over a movie you knew inside out. You convinced yourself that a good laugh would solve all your immediate problems and wriggled into a more comfortable position. The other matter could wait until the morning.

“A fine choice,” he murmured more to himself than anything. A smile returned to his face when the familiar movie of an overzealous police officer deployed to the seemingly pristine British countryside for showing up the city force began to play on the screen.

An hour in and your delightful laughter had stopped. Kento felt the rhythm of your breathing deepen, a swivel of his eyes told him exactly why—you were fast asleep. He gazed at your sleeping face for longer than he realised, his neck stiffening from the awkward position but not caring for the dull ache. Your features were smooth, relaxed in a peaceful slumber. There was no sign of your trepidation following the scary movies and he smiled gratefully.

You were so pretty. The truth of those words cemented into his brain, and he doubted anything could dissuade him. He couldn’t remember a time when he had gazed longingly at a previous girlfriend or lover like he was right now. There was something different about you, and yet so right that he ached to admit it out loud. Ever since the woman in the museum had mistaken you for a couple, offering advice that seemed to be tailor made specifically for his worries, he couldn’t get the idea of opening up out of his head.

His fingers graced the apple of your cheek, stroking your skin delicately like the flutter of a butterfly’s wing. Your face turned into the soft affection, a long comforting sigh exhaled through slightly parted lips and Kento fell even further. Why couldn’t he have met you under normal circumstances? A memory of your frantic flailing when he surprised you in his bathtub brought humour to his heart rather than the mortification of the day itself. It certainly made for an interesting story…

It took longer than it should for Kento to realise the movie had ended. Black velvet darkness decorated the quiet room, voyeuristic shadows clinging to the walls from the dark light of the blank television screen, still on but with nothing to display. The silent witnesses watched on whilst his heart beat faster and faster, head moving closer to your face until his lips brushed your forehead with heartfelt reverence.

The kiss was momentary, one singular frame in the grand scheme of his life, but to Kento, it felt like the defining moment. His old life, daily routine, the endlessly long hours at work, working out every morning simply to fit the aesthetic he believed to be the most suited to his lifestyle, it all seemed completely meaningless.

He thought of the books that lined the shelves of his office, most still unread. The places he dreamed of visiting—far flung countries with soft white sandy beaches, foreign cities with beautiful architecture to explore and even places closer to home that he never had time to venture to. How much of life was he missing out on? The food he could sample. The interests he could test out to see if any stuck, the people he could make friends with, the woman he could love…

Shit.

You were changing his entire world, and you had no fucking clue. He shouldn’t have kissed you. That realisation burned into him with vigour, the blazing inferno of his self-loathing at taking something that was not freely given, churned his stomach. Should he wake you and admit what he had done? No, it wasn’t fair to you.

Kento manoeuvred himself into a position to reach beneath your thighs, lifting you with ease into his arms and you didn’t even jostle at the movement. His eyes never left your face as you nuzzled into his chest, small fingers holding onto the fine threads of his sweater as if you were scared to lose your place, to lose your security. He wished he could be that for you, but he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough.

With the utmost care, he placed you into your bed, carefully unpicking your fingers and pressing the sheets into your palm as replacement before tucking them around you. Kento smiled when you murmured something unintelligible in your sleep, turning onto your side and burying your nose into your pillow with a gentle moan that spoke of nothing but comfort and peace. Despite kicking himself for the earlier kiss he had stolen without permission or consent, he found his nose and lips nestled in your hair once more. Again, the kiss was fleeting, and he stood to his full height and wished you a pleasant sleep under his breath before closing your door and disappearing behind his own.

He had a lot to think about, some decisions to make that could alter the course of his life and it was likely that not much sleep would come to him this night despite his earlier conviction that he wouldn’t be awake all night.

Sighing heavily, he scrubbed a palm down his weary face until he could catch his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the strain evident in his features.

“What do I do?”

#delirious writes #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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mountttmase · 3 months

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Where You Belong

Note - happy Sunday 🤭 this was actually a request from my lovely Sid and now you guys get to enjoy it 😂 feedback would be appreciated and I hope you enjoy this little break from winter sun

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 7.2k

Warnings - angst and fluff

Late training sessions were never Mason's favourite.

In an ideal world he’d be home around three, get himself tucked into bed for a little nap before having the evening to himself but today was different.

Training didn’t finish until around 8pm however Luke had invited him round for a quick dinner and a few games of fifa so he wasn’t home until around eleven and all he wanted was to get into bed and sleep his life away.

Coming home to an empty house never got easier, just like getting into a cold bed still made his tummy sink but he’d made his bed and now he had to lie in it.

Literally.

The one thing Mason wasn’t expecting was his phone to start ringing just as he’d slipped under the covers. Groaning slightly as he rolled over to grab his phone so he could see who wanted him at this ungodly hour but the number wasn’t saved to his contacts and he didn’t recognise it so it let it ring until it stopped to see if they’d leave a message but it was ringing again before he had a chance to think.

Mason hated answering calls from strange numbers, but it was late and the fact that they’d called again straight away made him think he really needed to pick up so with a slight huff he sat up and hit the answer button.

‘Hello?’

‘H-hi, is that Mason?’

‘’Yeah it’s me’ he answered, unsure of who was asking after him but just as he was about to moan at whoever was on the other end for calling, the voice speaking to him suddenly clicked in his brain and his breath caught in his throat. ‘Wait, y/n is that you?’

‘Um y-yeah it’s me’ he heard the voice on the other line sniff and it’s like his world had stopped. He hadn’t heard that voice in two months and he was pretty sure he’d never hear it again but there you were. Calling him from a number he didn’t recognise, sounding more upset than he’d ever heard you.

Well maybe only once before.

‘Is everything okay?’ He asked tentatively, knowing you were upset on the other end but he was unsure as to why you were getting in contact after everything that had happened a few months prior.

‘Um no, not really’ you sniffed, ‘I was at a gig and I met these people and… well long story short they took all my stuff. I’m at the police station now and they said I could call someone and yours was the only number I could remember’ you told him, feeling a little silly now as you listened to his deep breathing on the other end of the line. Gulping down a nervous lump before carrying on. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you or anything I just-‘

‘It’s alright, where are you I’ll come and get you’

‘No, it’s fine I don’t-‘

‘Y/n, I’m coming to get you. Just tell me where you are’ he said sternly. Getting out of bed and stuffing himself into his shoes as you told him the address of the station you were at and thankfully it was only 15 minutes away. ‘Just stay where you are, I’ll come inside’

‘Yeah cause that’ll look great. Mason Mount spotted leaving Manchester police station in the early hours, I can see the headlines now’

‘Well I can’t exactly text you I'm outside, can I?’ He reasoned. ‘And I don’t want you standing out in the cold. Don't worry I’ll put my hood up and I’ve got my sunglasses just… I won’t be long just stay where you are’

Mason was out of the door as soon as you’d hung up. Driving well over the speed limit but it was all he could do to stop his mind whirling. This wasn’t how he’d planned to see you again but you needed him and no matter what he’d always come running.

He saw you before you saw him and he took a few seconds just to look at you. You looked so small and fragile, eyes downcast as they looked to your hands in your lap and all he wanted to was to hold you. But he was unsure as to how you might react to him so in the end he took a few small steps forward in hopes you’d look up and see him.

As soon as your eyes locked onto his Mason felt like he’d been shot. The pain ripping through his chest was almost suffocating as he took you in, your bottom lip wobbling and eyes filling with tears before you launched yourself at him.

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡

Mason was probably the last person you wanted to call, but beggars can’t be choosers when you’re in the situation you’re in.

You hadn’t even realised it had happened till it was done, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone to take yourself out on a solo date as your favourite band were playing nearby and you’d always wanted to see them live. Your original plan was to go with your friend Jenny, but after that no longer was an option you figured you could go on your own so you didn’t miss out but the thought terrified you.

All was going well though and you even made some new friends with the group of people who were standing next to you but you should've known when they had to rush off at the end that something wasn’t right.

You reached into your bag for your phone to grab yourself an Uber home but your bag was empty. Not just your phone missing but your keys and purse and after a few minutes of panic you made your way over to someone who was working security and tearfully told her what had happened.

You didn’t want to make too much of a fuss, and when you had to take a trip to the police station so you could give a statement your night became even worse. This isn’t how you’d planned your night to go at all but the police officer who was dealing with you kept you calm and helped you block your cards before running through some options for everything else.

When it came to making a call you knew there was only one number you’d memorised for emergencies. There should have been no reason you’d ever have to rely on anyone else but things had changed and you were desperate.

You knew he wouldn’t pick up on the first ring if it was from a random number so you called back straight away and after four rings his sleepy voice came filtering through making your eyes sting immediately. You hadn’t heard it in so long and thought you might never again but you held it together as best you could.

As soon as you started speaking you felt stupid. What were you expecting him to do? He wasn’t yours anymore and he owed you nothing but as soon as you were able to explain you could hear him shuffling about to come and get you and the relief you felt was overwhelming

The wait for him felt like a lifetime. Sat there wondering what to say or do when he got there but you were so distraught and worked up by the time he was you did the first thing you could think of and threw yourself into his body. You knew he was shocked as it took him a second to get his bearings but soon enough he was wrapping you up in his arms and holding you close to his chest.

‘It’s alright, you’re fine’ he whispered into your hair. Rubbing your back to comfort you just like he used to but it just seemed to make your tears feel faster. ‘Come on, let’s go. We’ll go sit in the car yeah?’

You let him lead you out to his car. Getting yourself settled in his passenger seat as he ran around to the drivers side and you tried your best to calm yourself but you felt a little awkward now and his sympathetic expression was making you feel worse.

‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah, bloody fantastic. What do you think?’ You huffed, feeling awful immediately as you knew he was only looking out for you but you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye as you felt your mood sink even further. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that’

‘No it’s alright’ he whispered, playing with his fingers in his lap.

‘No it’s not’ you told him, holding back your tears as best you could before turning to him. ‘Thank you for coming to get me’

‘That’s okay’ he smiled softly, but you just felt like crying all over again. ‘Where do you wanna go now?’

‘I don’t even know’ you laughed, not having many options right now. ‘‘Can you go to Luke’s? I gave my spare key to Anouska’ you told him, not even thinking about what you were saying, but you knew from the moment his face dropped even further he was upset by what you’d said.

‘Oh uh, yeah sure’ he mumbled. Starting the car without another word and even though you wanted to talk to him and explain you didn’t think it would help too much.

The journey was silent, Mason looking straight ahead with a hard expression and you attempted to break the silence a few times but chickened out at the very last second each time as you could tell by the tense atmosphere that no matter what you said it wouldn’t make a difference. He was pissed, you just hoped he wouldn’t take it out on them.

‘Wait here, I’ll go and get it’ he told you, pulling up to Luke’s house and getting out the door before he’d even turned the engine off and you sighed as you watched him jog up the path. You knew Mason and you knew he was holding everything in so it was only a matter of time before he let it out. You didn’t know if it would be through anger or hurt but you kept your eye on him and he stood and waited for someone to answer the door.

‘Hey mate, sorry for just turning up’ Mason told Luke quietly after he answered the door. Luke looking a little sleepy but thankfully not annoyed at his sudden arrival.

‘Don’t be silly, is everything okay? Did you forget something?’ He asked, rubbing his eyes but as soon as he got a better look at Mason his expression changed to one of concern as he waited for the younger boy to speak.

‘Yea yeah fine, no listen um- it’s a long story but I’ve got y/n in the car and I need her spare key. She said Anouska keeps one here?’

‘Oh um- let me grab her one sec’ he mumbled, nodding his head inside so Mason could stand in the doorway rather than out in the cold and soon enough Luke was following in behind his wife.

‘Mase? Is everything alright?’

‘Y/n’s had all her stuff stolen tonight. I’ve just picked her up from the police station’

‘Oh my god, is she alright?’

‘She’s fine, they took in without her knowing so she’s not hurt or anything just upset. I’m just taking her home but we can’t get in cause she’s got no keys but apparently you’ve got a spare?’

‘Oh, yeah I’ll go grab it for you’ she told you quietly, grabbing a key from the rack before handing it over and Mason just gave a nod before turning to leave.

Something stopped him in his tracks though. Turning back to face them and the broken look on his face made Anouska’s lip wobble.

‘I asked you guys where she was so many times, every time you said you had no idea but you knew along? How could you do that to me?’ He asked quietly, the hurt in his voice evident at his friend’s betrayal but they were quick to try and reassure him.

‘No it’s not like that at all Mason I promise’ Anouska started but her voice started to wobble so Luke took over.

‘We really didn’t have any idea, mate. We’ve only had the key for two weeks, She showed up out the blue and made us swear not to say anything’ Luke explained but even if it had been two weeks he was still upset about being kept in the dark.

‘I’m really sorry, Mase. She’s got no one and I was just trying to look out for her, I thought it’s what you’d want’ Anouska told him, and Mason didn’t have anything to say. Upset his closest friends had been secretly hiding you behind his back but his emotions were all over the place from everything that was going on tonight and he didn’t want to make everyone feel worse so in the end he just nodded before bidding them a farewell and sulking back to the car.

‘Don’t be mad at them, It was me who made them keep quiet’ you told him after he’d handed the key over to you but he just shrugged. Clearly not in the mood to talk about it so you let him drive away, afraid the silence might consume you.

‘Where am I going?’ He asked quietly as he neared the end of their road and you let him know you’d direct him back to your flat. It was about a half an hour drive over to the other side of town and you were thankful for the low music he played so it wouldn’t be too awkward.

Once you arrived back at your flat you thought Mason might want to leave but he came up with you. You’d moved in two weeks after your break up and had just taken the first semi acceptable place that was available. Under any normal circumstances you would have second guessed showing Mason this place but your need to have someone nearby in your hour of need outweighed the part of your brain that was embarrassed by the tiny flat you now called your own.

‘Sorry about the mess’ you told him quietly as you both walked in but he just gave you a tight but reassuring smile.

‘Don’t worry about it, you should see my bathroom right now, it’s a right state’ he laughed, thankful he seemed to be perking up a little but you hated the way he referred to it as his bathroom. He used to call it our bathroom, the one you shared before things took a turn. ‘What did the officers say happen now?’

‘There should be someone round soon to change the locks over and then they’ll call me later on tomorrow if they’ve got any updates’ you confirmed, watching him eye your living room carefully and you felt your heart sink. ‘Listen, thanks for walking me up, but you can go if you like’

‘I think it’s best I stay, just until the locks are changed at least. There’s random people walking about with your keys so I’ll stay for a bit to be safe’ he told you and his concern for you even now melted your heart just a tiny bit.

‘Take a seat then’ you told him. Nodding to the sofa in the corner before following him over to take the seat next to him. Squishing yourself into the side so your thighs didn’t touch but thankfully he seemed to be having the same idea to keep as far apart as you possibly could on the worn out sofa.

‘So you were at a gig tonight?’ He asked quietly after a few moments of silence, clearly wanting to make a bit of conversation after an hour or so of being understandably standoffish with you and you nodded whilst keeping your eyes looking forward.

‘Yeah’

‘On your own?’

‘Yeah’

‘‘It’s not like you to go out on your own’ he commented and you had to gulp down a nervous lump.

‘Well I wasn’t meant to be but my plus one couldn’t go’ you told him. Trying to be vague on purpose to avoid an awkward conversation but you felt him tense up besides you.

‘Oh’ he breathed, nodding his head solemnly but you weren’t quite sure why he’d suddenly turned so moody again and you figured you should explain a little more even if it did take you down a path you didn’t want to be going down.

‘Yeah, Jenny and I don’t talk anymore and I paid for the tickets in the first place so I sold the other one and went in my own’

‘Jenny? You were meant to go with Jenny?’ he asked, face slightly shocked but you could detect a hint of relief in there too.

‘Yeah? Why, who do you think I meant?’

‘Well I don’t know… I thought you meant like a date or something’ he told you awkwardly and even though you knew it was an easy conclusion to come to you still felt your anger rise inside of you.

‘A date? We’ve been broken up for two months, Mase. Is that what you think of me?’ You laughed, slightly in disbelief at what he seemed to be accusing you of.

Well no-‘

‘Is that what you’ve been doing?’ You asked, looking at him with furrowed brows, noticing his expression matched yours.

‘No, I didn’t-‘

A knock at the door snapped the pair of you out of your little argument. Mason standing up to go and answer if before you got a chance and from what you could hear, it sounded like the locksmith here to sort the locks out.

Mason always had the gift of the gab and you were in no mood for plesentaries so you left them to chat, thankful he was taking charge for you even if things before had just taken a weird turn and before long Mason offered him a cup of tea and he reappeared in front of you again.

‘Why don’t you go have a shower and get changed or whatever. I can deal with this’ he offered and even though the thought of being under the hot water sounded like heaven you didn’t want to leave this all up to him when it was your mess.

‘It’s fine-’

‘Please’ he interrupted, his hand gently touching your shoulder before he pulled back. ‘It’s been a long night for you and there’s no point in you being sat out here like a lemon. I’ll come and find you when it’s done, yeah?’

‘Okay’ you told him quietly. Secretly happy he was taking the responsibility away from you. ‘I’ll just be in there’ you whispered, nodding to the door in the far corner of the room and with one final small smile he stepped into your kitchen to make a cup of tea.

You let the warm water of the shower consume you. Not realising how tense you were until you tried to relax and it took more effort than you realised. Raising the temperature of the water ever so slightly try and relax yourself even further but your mind was going a mile a minute.

You couldn’t believe how tonight had gone. You were having the time of your life out of your comfort zone with some people you’d put your trust in for the night but your massive highs always seemed to be followed by massive lows lately. Still not believing you’d been so easy to exploit and that they’d taken your stuff without you even realising.

You tried holding your tears in, having not cried properly since the whole ordeal happened but now you were at home with Mason so close by you could feel your walls slipping again.

You felt silly and exposed. All the things you were protective of had been taken away from you from right under your nose and you couldn’t believe you’d let it happen. You were usually so aware of what was going on but these last few weeks and tonight especially made you realise maybe you weren’t as switched on as you thought.

Once you were done in the shower you slipped into your pjs before laying ontop of your bed. Not wanting to get fully inside right now as Mason was still here and you didn’t want to fall asleep without saying goodbye but the longer you sat in your own thoughts the more upset you became.

You could hear him laughing and chatting away outside. A sound you’d hadn’t heard much of in the last month or so of your relationship as the lair of you grew further apart and you missed it terribly. All you could think about was it being your fault things had turned out how they had and after the stress of the last few hours you felt your eyes sting again.

You were determined not to cry, hugging you pillow to your chest as you squeezed your eyes shut tight but the sobs were only moments away and when you heard your front door shut you couldn’t help but finally let things out as you realised it was just you and Mason alone again.

You’d known it this whole time but it really hit you just how much you still loved him in that moment. The fact he’d saved you in your hour of need, taken you home and taken care of what needed to be done so you could relax overwhelmed you as you weren’t sure you could be so kind if he’d treated you the same as you had him and the thought only made you even more upset knowing you may never get back to how you were.

Mason opened your door slowly, not sure if you were asleep or not and even though the room was dark he could still make out the slight shake of our shoulders as you fought to hold it together. Laying facing away from him so he couldn’t see you and the longer he stood there the louder your sobs became.

Mason was stuck, not sure if you wanted to be left alone or if maybe you needed his comfort but in the end he pushed his worries to the side and went to you. It always broke him seeing you upset and right now was no different so he carefully popped himself onto the bed behind you and pulled you body into his chest. Holding you close as you buried your head into the pillow.

‘It’s alright, sweetheart, just let it out’ he whispered, the sound of his gentle voice breaking down what little composure you had left and you let your cries eat you up from the inside. Your body shaking violently as you let go of everything you had inside of you and you even surprised yourself at his upset you were about everything.

‘Hey, come on baby it’s alright’ you heard him murmur, his own voice sounding emotional as he moved to sit up before reaching for you. Pulling you up and into his lap so he could hold you properly and you cried into his neck as he slowly rocked you back and forth whilst whispering in your ear repeatedly that everything would be okay.

He let you cry it out, not rushing you at all or making you calm down quicker than you needed to he just patiently sat and waited for you to raise your head and his devastated expression almost set you off again.

‘Please don’t cry anymore’ he whispered against your forehead before placing the softest kiss between your eyebrows. The physical affection making you want to cry all over again but you held it together.

‘I’m sorry, it’s just been a lot tonight’

‘I know,’ he agreed. Nodding his head as you attempted to wipe your eyes but the feel of his arms around your body and he held you almost like a baby kept your tears flowing silently. ‘Can I ask you something?’ He whispered after a short while. Waiting until you nodded before he carried on talking. ‘Why don’t you and Jenny speak anymore? You told me she was like a sister to you’ he asked you carefully, knowing it must have been a touchy subject but you knew you needed to be honest with him now. He deserved the truth after all you’d put him through and all he’d done for you tonight when you didn’t deserve his kindness.

‘Yeah well, I realised a few things about her’ you told him quietly. Looking up to meet Mason's eyes and the sadness in them made your lip wobble. ‘I’m so sorry’ you whispered.

‘Sorry? What are you sorry for?’

‘I let her get into my head, let her say horrible things about you. I let her get in between us and I know it’s not all her and I played my part but I shouldn’t have listened to her’ you sobbed. ‘I ruined everything’

‘Hey come on’ he breathed, his voice wobbling as he pulled you back into his chest. ‘Don’t cry anymore’

‘I didn’t mean to hurt you’

‘I know bubs’ he whispered. Kissing your temple softly as you calmed yourself back down. ‘What happened?’

What had happened?

Jenny was a bit of a sore subject for the pair of you. You’d met her a week or so after moving to Manchester all those months ago and the pair of you had become fast friends. With Mason always being busy it was easy for the pair of you to spend time together but to say she wasn’t Mason's biggest fan was an understatement.

When you first moved to Manchester, Mason was here, there and everywhere. It was lonely being so far away from everything and everyone you knew but you were determined to make the best of things so when a girl came up to you in a coffee shop to compliment your bag, you gave her a wide smile and offered her a seat rather than shying away like usual.

Jenny had lived in Manchester all her life so when you explained you hadn’t and didn’t really know anyone around here she was quick to give you her number and let you know she would be free whenever to show you her favourite spots.

She was bright and bubbly and just the right sort of person you needed in your life at the time but there was just one problem.

You could tell she was suspicious of Mason from the beginning. You tried telling her that he would be busy a lot with the new season starting in a brand new team but she couldn’t seem to get her head around why he was always away. Asking why he’s dragged you all the way up here just to ignore you and whilst you understood what it looked like from the outside, you and Mason were as strong as a rock.

That didn’t stop Jenny from trying to make you see sense though. Taking every opportunity she could to tear him down in front of you and whilst it was growing tiring she was your only friend up here and you didn’t want to lose her.

Everyday she would ask about him, wondering where he was and who he was with. Wondering why he wasn’t spending time with you and you didn’t know when, but soon enough her words started to stick. Every missed diner or unreplied to text that you used to think nothing of suddenly was sticking out to you like never before and you wondered if she was right.

It all came to head when you invited him to a dinner with some of the girls and their boyfriends and when Mason told you he wasn't available you didn’t even give him a chance to explain. Ignoring him for the rest of the day before getting dolled up for a night out without him.

‘You need to be strong, babe. Be firm with him and say it’s not acceptable. There’s not an excuse in the world that I’d accept for him not coming tonight, you don’t deserve to be treated like this’ Jenny told you. ‘You wait until you’ve found someone else, he’ll regret it then and he won’t be able to do anything about it’

You were late home on purpose, not ready to talk to him yet but to your surprise he’d waited up for you. His face full of sorrow as he tried to get your attention but you ignored him on purpose. Sleeping in the guest room before the pair of you engaged in a heated row the next morning.

You hadn't given him a chance to tell you what he was doing as you spent your time ignoring the day before but he was just as pissed as you were this morning. Furious with you for not hearing him out and telling you that the whole reason he wasn’t able to go out with you last night was because he was booked in for a charity event for children who were learning to read and speak English and he thought you were coming with him.

You tried not to let him get to you. You knew his charity work was important to him and you knew you’d agreed to go with him months ago but you’d been so wrapped up in Jenny that you’d forgotten all about it. In the end, trying to turn things onto him and making out like he hadn't reminded you or told you about it yesterday but he confessed he’d given up trying with you.

You said so many things you wished you could take back now. Things you knew weren’t true but you’d been spoon fed to believe and once again you didn’t give him a chance to say his piece properly. Ranting at him for as long as you could before locking yourself away again.

When Mason left for training you’d called Jenny, crying down the phone to her about everything that had happened and she convinced you to pack your things and get out. Even coming round to help you finish off and and drive you away so you could stay with her for a few days whilst you found a place of your own.

As soon as Mason realised what was happening he was blowing up your phone. Demanding to see you and talk things out but you refused, hanging up on him in the end before sending him a text to let him know you needed space but you were done and not to message you again before you blocked him.

Life without Mason was hard but you had Jenny by your side at all times. Constantly reminding you that you’d made the right choice and that when you were ready the pair of you would go out and find you a man that would put you first.

That was two months ago, and you’d been miserable everyday. Each moment passing making you think you’d messed up but you didn’t realise how much until two weeks ago.

‘Two weeks ago, we were out getting lunch and I popped to the loo. When I came back this girl she knew passed by and she got up to give her a hug and stuff but she left her phone face up on the table and I could see she was trying to message you on insta’ you told him. Looking up to see his face looking confused. ‘I took her phone and scrolled to the top and she’d been DMing you from the day we ended things. I think that’s the only reason she ever spoke to me was to get to you’

‘I’m sorry sweetheart’ he tutted, brushing your hair back from your face so he could place a gentle kiss on your forehead again. ‘What did you do?’

‘When she sat back down I told her my locks were getting changed the next day and if I could have my key back before pretending to take a call outside. I just went straight home and sent her a text saying I knew what she was up to and you’d never go near her in a million years’ you told him with a slight laugh, smiling as he chuckled under you before you felt him reach for his phone.

‘Find her for me?’ He asked, opening up instagram so you could pull up her profile and look at the messages she’d sent him. Even now reading them back made you skin crawl but you watched masons expression change to a disgusted one as he read the first ones through.

‘Why would she send me this shit?’ He laughed, coming out of the messages so he could go back to her profile and block her before throwing his phone to the side and looking back down at you. ‘I’m sorry she’s not who you thought she was’

‘It's fine’ you shrugged. Not caring about her or what she’d done to you anymore but the sympathetic look on his face made your heart thump. ‘Why are you being so nice to me? I was shit to you’ you asked. It only really hitting you now that you were broken up still but the way he was being so soft and loving with you made your heart race.

‘Cause I love you’ he told you seriously and you felt your whole body freeze. Loved you? Still? ‘Yeah we may not like each other a whole lot right now but I’ll always love you, y/n’ he confirmed and you felt your eyes sting.

‘I still like you’ you whispered, watching his face soften a touch, both smiling tearily as you came to the realisation things weren’t as bad as it seemed and you could have sworn you felt him hold you a little tighter.

‘I still like you, too’ he nodded, but you were overwhelmed by his kindness and felt yourself getting upset again.

‘God I’m so fucking stupid’ you laughed, nuzzling into his neck and you laughed at the way he held you slightly tighter.

‘Hey, don’t say that’

‘But I am. I walked out on you when you’ve been the best thing that ever happened to me, took some random girls side who was fucking me over the whole time and then befriending a local gang of theives’ you joked before it hit you again that all your stuff had been taken. ‘I can’t believe all my stuff’s gone’

‘It’s okay, we can replace it all’ he reassured you and your heart broke at the way he was trying to help even though there were certain things that couldn’t be replaced.

‘I know but my phone’

‘It’s just a phone love, we can get you a new one’ he told you, but that wasn’t the reason why you were so upset about it. You couldn’t care less about the actual phone itself as you knew you could get a new one whenever but it was the stuff on the phone rather than the phone itself.

‘It’s not the phone, it’s what was on it. It’s gone and I can’t replace all that’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve got years worth of pictures and memories on there, I never backed my phone up or anything so they’ve all gone. And yeah maybe I’d have to get rid of them at some point but I wasn’t ready to let them go yet. To let you go.’

‘I’m right here bubs. You can’t get rid of me that easily’ he whispered. Cradling your face as he gazed into your eyes lovingly. ‘Whatever you lost, I’ve probably still got it on my phone so when we get you a new one I can just send it all over’

‘Really?’ You sobbed, relief washing through you as you realised not everything was so hopeless so you just held him as tight as you could and breathed in his scent that you’d missed so much. ‘I don’t deserve you’

‘Look at me’ he whispered. Pulling back so you could look in each other's eyes and then softness in them made you melt. ‘You’ve stuck by me through thick and thin for years. Every game, every tournament, whatever it was you were there for me. I know I wasn’t the greatest at being there for you but I promise you I’ll try a lot harder if you’ll let me’

‘No, Mase none of this was ever your fault. I was being selfish, like even when you told me the next day why you couldn’t make it to that dinner I was still so blinded by everything Jenny had told me I didn’t care but now I can’t believe I ever acted that way’ you told him. ‘I’m sorry I let her make me think you didn’t give me enough time when I know you gave me everything you had. I’m sorry I just left without really giving us a chance to talk through things and I’m sorry I made your friends lie for me’ you whispered. ‘Please don’t be mad at them, I made them promise not to say anything’

‘Why didn’t you just come back to me’ he uttered, his voice sounding the saddest you’d heard it all night and it was close to breaking you.

‘I was ashamed’ you gulped ‘I thought you’d turn me away’

‘I wouldn’t have, I promise’ he told you tearily. ‘I had a feeling there was more to it but I’ve missed you every day, you know? Your my one and I’ve been going out of my mind not being able to get hold of you’

‘I’ve missed you too’ you sobbed, hiding away in his neck again as you held each other tightly. Mason going back to rocking you from side to side in hopes it would calm you down and soon enough your sobs turned to sniffles and you pulled back to look at him properly.

You couldn’t class the dark marks under his eyes as bags, they were more like suitcases he’d been carrying the weight of the world in. His skin pale in comparison and you knew it was because he probably wasn’t looking after himself properly in the months you’d gone but your heart thumped when you reached out to cup his jaw and he turned his head in your hand so he could kiss your palm before melting into your touch.

‘You look exhausted’ Mase. I’m so sorry for making you get up to come and get me’

‘Don’t be, I’m glad you did’

‘Will you stay tonight? Like in here with me?’ You asked quietly, hoping the pleading look in your eyes would wear him down but he was nodding straight away. Holding you closer before pulling back to look at you and the cheeky smile on his face made your heart thump as you hadn’t seen it in so long.

‘You better budge up then, what size bed is this anyway?’ He joked as he helped you off of him and you felt your face flush as you pulled back the covers.

‘It’s a small double, there’s not enough room in here for a normal sized one’ you laughed, crawling inside and you felt yourself go shy as he kicked off his shoes and joined you.

‘I’m only kidding, love.

‘You don’t have to be kind, I know it’s awful here’

‘It’s cozy’ he said softly. Apprehensively reaching for you but once he realised you were happy for him to hold you he pulled you into his chest and you felt your whole body relax.

‘It’s shit’ you laughed, nuzzling down into his chest before looking up into his kind eyes.

‘Why did you stay here then? In Manchester I mean. Thought you would have gone back to London with everyone since you’re only here because of me’

‘I guess the only one good thing about Jenny was she convinced me to stay’ you huffed. ‘It was probably just to feed me more lies about you but she said he’d look out for me up here as if I went home everyone would tell you where I am’

‘You know what, she’s probably right. I’ve been on at everyone constantly since you left but no one would tell me anything’

‘I’m so sorry’ you breathed. ‘I really am so sorry Mase but I’m here now and I promise I’ll make this right. If you still want me’

‘I’ll always want you’ he confirmed quietly. Lips falling to your forehead again so he could place a gentle kiss there and you couldn't hold in the shiver that ran down your spine. ‘And you know I’ve always got room for you. You know in our house we picked together’ he teased, tears filling your eyes and what he might be suggesting. The thought of being home too much for you to take right now. ‘First World problems but you don’t know how hard it is to be there and be reminded of you every bloody place I look’

‘Well maybe we can figure something out then’ you laughed. Excited about the prospect of being home with him where you belonged but unsure if it was too soon.

‘Just come home please, love’

‘Isn’t it too soon?

‘We both know you’ll be back sooner or later, and I’m never letting you go anywhere again so we might as well just crack on’ he joked, tucking his head into your hair as you both clung to one another. ‘Do you still work half days on Friday?’

‘I do’ you laughed, your heart leaping at the way he remembered the most random things about you.

‘Okay perfect. Pack up what you can tomorrow afternoon then and I’ll come by after training and help and then we’ll get you back home okay? Back where you belong’

‘Okay’ you whispered, too dumbfounded to say anything else but you knew when you saw his eyes flash to your lips you wanted to kiss him instantly. Thankfully his lips were already closing in on yours so you just shut your eyes and let him kiss you.

It was the softest kiss you’d ever shared. Full of nerves and caution but as you kissed him back it became one of longing and you held each other as tight as you could almost as if you were afraid the other might vanish into thin air. Only pulling back when Mason got the giggles and had to hide his face in your hair again.

‘What’s wrong?’ you laughed, trying to look at his face and as soon as he let you, you realised how blushy his cheeks were.

‘Nothing I’m just… just happy we’re back’

‘Me to’ you agreed. Letting him pull you back up for another heated kiss that you didn’t want to end. Finally feeling whole again, back where you belonged in the arms of the man who meant more to you than anyone or anything else.

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it and I’d love it if you could leave me some feedback 🩷

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januaryembrs · 2 months

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HOT UNDER THE HELMET | Poe Dameron x Mechanic!Reader

Request: Hi, would you mind writing for Poe Dameron where Poe accidentally injures the reader (whose a mechanic), which is how they meet for the first time. And would you mind using the dialogue prompt “Oh, oh my god! It was an accident! I’m so sorry!”?

Description: Poe finds out the hard way the best mechanic in the resistance is also most beautiful woman he’s ever seen; too bad you’re so hot headed.

word count: 1.5k

trigger warnings: sexism, fire, women in stem facing problems even in space (because ofcourse they do).

main masterlist

As much as you would love to admit times of war made people more benevolent towards each other, you’d be dead wrong. Not only had you been one of the only females in the resistance who knew her way around a wrench, but as it also turned out, not even the risk of dying could pull a males head out of his arse.

You heard snickering before you saw them. The other three mechanics in your squadron crowded around a starfighter, laughing to themselves as they watched you tinker with a leaky engine, your body strewn across a lying board as you worked above yourself, your tools against your foot.

Rolling out from underneath the ship, you paid them no mind as you searched for a screwdriver small enough to fit the flathead you needed removing. Scanning your work area, that you were proud to say you kept much neater than the blaster brained males you shared a space with, your brow furrowed when you saw your equipment nowhere to be seen.

“Looking for something?” You heard Zagg, one of the males, say, and you felt a rage boil up inside you at the smug look on their faces as you regarded them with a sweaty, pissed off expression.

“Where’d you boneheads put it?” You snapped, hauling yourself to your feet as you approached them hotly, your scowl only growing as they burst out laughing, “Real mature. The galaxy is going to bantha fodder, and you guys are hiding my tools,”

“You know, if you need help from someone who knows what they’re doing, you could just ask,” The tallest of the trio, Bran, goaded you, a smarmy smile on his face as he watched your cheeks puff with exhaustion, whirling around to charge up to him, no matter if you did have to turn your neck upwards to confront the pig of a male.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, instead of going after little girls who make you look like rookies,” You hissed, eying up the other two who seemed to exchange a sneer, “Leia chose me herself, handpicked me from the academy. You three nerf herders got through on sheer size alone, and it’s obvious you feel the need to compensate everywhere else possible,”

You sauntered away, back towards the rear of the workshop where spare apparatus was kept, banging around the drawers with a foul mood, muttering about how useless the opposite sex was in times of crisis.

As if he had heard the call of a siren, Poe strolled into the hangar, fully suited with his helmet under his arm, an all too cheery smile on his face for the belly of the beast he was unknowingly heading straight for.

Catching the eye of one of the mechanics, a freakishly tall man that seemed to be chatting to the other two as they stood around an X-wing with a huge hole ripped into the body of it, he watched the worker drop his bitter face and regard him with raised eyebrows when he saw the chirpy pilot approach.

“General,” He nodded respectfully, though there was not a single trace of regard on his face. “You’ve come for your ship?”

“Leia said you had your best guy on it?” He said, almost missing the way the three of them nodded hesitantly, “She said it should be ready today,”

“Right this way, General Dameron,” The shorter, beefy one said, leading him away to a pristine looking starfighter, by far in the best shape he could see it being without it being brand new. He thought he caught a snigger behind him as the mechanic, whose oiled badge read as Kripply, took him over to the ship, “Why don’t you give her a whirl? As you said, we had our very best on the case,”

Poe looked at him with an odd mix of a smile and wariness as he couldn’t miss the devilish excitement the man looked at him with. Had he sat in paint again, he wondered. Finn had had a field day walking him around the entire compound with two white ass cheek marks on his suit, he wouldn’t put it past his co-pilot to try his luck again seeing as Poe had been the one to win at cards last night and had not so graciously rubbed his credits in the man’s face.

“Sure, let’s give this baby a whirl,” He said after a moment, his hair falling all over the place as he shoved his helmet over his thick, sable locks.

Maybe he had a case of bedhead, he wondered. Afterall, he’d not exactly been sober as he’d stumbled back to his room last night, his winnings buying him round after round of smuggled Corellian Whiskey.

He hopped up onto the wing, yanking himself into the cockpit that had been cleaned thoroughly, and he didn’t know why he ever doubted his repair team if this was the condition they left their vehicles in. The engine hummed to life as he flicked the tiny lever, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the oddly floral smell inside the small flight deck, and he wondered if they had gone so far as to spray freshener in there.

You had found a spare tightener that would fit the screw, the last thing that needed fastening up before the engine should be good to run, Leia’s general would be by any second now.

Rolling back under the vehicle, you tuned out the way Zagg cackled over the sound of an engine springing to life, you assumed their own, focusing on the tiny panel you had yet to cover the machinery with to protect the pilot from any stray blaster fire cutting the engine.

But no sooner had you settled on your back beneath the jet, your hand reaching up for the metal sheet, you heard the familiar rumble of oil being fired through the motor, the drums whirling as the ignition started and a short blast of heat hit you in the face.

You blanched as you knew that meant, knew what would come shooting out any second now. Heat always got kicked out of the engine first, the left over energy dishcharged out of the bottom grate. Because then came the fire as it sprung to life.

Your hand came up before you could think through what you were doing, the hard work you were unravelling in the interest of keeping your face intact, your brain from turning to crispy mush, as you yanked the oil pipe from where you’d connected it to the drum, the thick black liquid pouring over your entire body as you stumbled from out beneath the plane, just incase your plan hadn’t worked.

You heard the engine cut, the sound of the cockpit sliding open as someone cursed from above, and you were filled with a new wave of rage as two feet jumped from the wing above you, turning to the three men who watched with entertained chuckles.

“What happened, I thought you said-” Poe had started chewing out the males who didn’t seem to care all too much about the fact the jet had broken down, when he felt two hands shove him from behind, and he spun on his heel with annoyance.

His face dropped entirely when he saw you, covered head to toe in a thick, gunky oil, your nostrils flaring as you glared at him with a heat he had yet to see from a woman before.

Usually women were so receptive to his charming good looks. Not this one it seemed.

“What the kriff was that, man,” You yelled, shoving his chest again with your slimy hands, and he quickly put it together what had been the problem.

“What that me?” His brows flew into his hair line as you looked at him like he’d just learned there were stars in the sky, “Oh, maker! It was an accident! I’m so sorry!”

“Oh he’s sorry. Thank goodness he’s sorry,” You threw your arms up, wiping the oil away from your eyes with slippy hands, and Poe had no idea what to say for the best.

Though, he supposed telling you you were by far the prettiest woman he’d seen in moons was not the correct thing to go for, despite the fact it was the first thing he’d thought.

“I’m a decorated pilot, I would never intentionally-” He spluttered, but you had already turned away, heading towards a small work bench where a bunch of old, dirty rags lay, supposedly for hands only.

“You can decorate my ass, general. You’re waiting another week for that plane,” You seethed, barely regarding him over your shoulder.

And he stood there, speechless, because what was he supposed to say. No one had ever spoken down to him like that, not since he’d grown into his good looks and had women falling at his feet to be near him. Certainly not since he’d become leader.

You huffed past him, as he was rooted to the spot, jaw hung slack as you left the workshop, cursing him out clearly to yourself, and it was only then that he turned to the other three males who had watched him get his ass served to him with another round of sniggers. “Who in the maker was she?”

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you

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fanaticsnail · 7 months

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You Kissed the Clown? Part 9

You guys, my heart. There were so many things I wanted to say and do in this chapter and the words came out completely differently than I was expecting.

Your comments literally mean the world to me, so please interact if you like this chapter - or check out some of my other stuff in my Masterlist if you like my writing style.

Word Count: 4,653

(Edit to add: Trigger Warning! Reader accidentally gets a big ouch and descriptives of self-induced unintentional self-ouch is described)

Chapter 8 back here.

“There once was a girl with Tangerine hair, who stole my map and left me stranded somewhere,” a gruff singing voice reverberated throughout the wooden deck, “truly a crooked and crafty young lass, but you can’t deny she had a spectacular- OW-!” the voice was thrust, muffling an exclamation of pain as the source of the noise was thrust into the darkness of a barrel the hands of the green-haired swordsman.

“Listen,” Usopp addressed Zoro as Zoro turned to face him, “why don’t we just let her have him? Honestly-,”

“No,” Zoro said firmly. You could hear the growl from his fury at the mere suggestion of allowing you near the clown.

“I don’t get it-,” Usopp sighed.

“You don’t have to get it,” Zoro again growled at him, “I said no.”

“Come on, bounty hunter,” Buggy whined, “I’ll behave. Honest!”

Zoro growled and reopened the barrel containing Buggy’s head and lifted him, scrunching his hair beneath his red and white bandana within his fist.

“Listen, clown,” Zoro’s voice darkened with a low and threatening tone. He brought Buggy’s face closer to his; continuing his threat with narrowing his eyes. Buggy winced at the pain he was once again experiencing at the hands of the swordsman.

“Give us clear directions,” he uttered, pausing briefly before adding, “and we’ll see about you just being able to look at her.”

“I’ll be good, I’ll be good!” Buggy panted, flinching with his eyes tightly shut at how tightly the swordsman was gripping his hand, “I just- ow this really hurts- I just want to see her.”

Zoro snarled at the clown before firmly placing him down with a loud thud atop the barrel lid once more.

“Clear,” Zoro growled, still holding firmly onto his head before releasing his grip, uttering, “directions.”

“Okay, okay, sheesh,” Buggy relented with an unamused grimace, “two degrees to port, and if you feel the wind change; move with it hard starboard.”

Buggy jumped around atop the barrel to make eye contact with Zoro.

“Now then, sword boy,” Buggy bore his teeth in a wide smile, “let me see my girl.”

--------------------------

You remained in your quarters, after being commanded by the First Mate of the Going Merry to not be within a certain foot radius of the pirate clown. You creased your brows and allowed a snarl to pull at your lips slightly as you continued vigorously polishing several tools in desperate need of attention.

You scoffed to yourself and put additional effort into polishing your tool with a semi-excessive force while the corners of your mouth pulled down.

“She’s not allowed on clown-head duty,” you wiggled your head from side to side as you openly mocked the voice of Zoro under your breath. You rolled your eyes, “jokes on you, swordsman. I don’t want to be on clown-head duty.”

You rolled your eyes and grit your teeth as you made your way to sharpen the pointed tip of your leather-pairing scalpel with your smooth whetstone. You absent-mindedly began shifting your conflicting and intrusive thoughts throughout your mind.

“What do I say to him? ‘Sorry for kissing you, it was a fight-flight-freeze or fuck response to your threats of violence’?” the thoughts wove through your brain as you brought your eyes down harder to focus on the silver object.

“I can’t be left alone with him,” your thoughts confirmed, you nodding your head along as you hastened your sharpening, “he’s likely to hurl insults at me for being such a shit kisser.”

“But I’m not a shit kisser,” your mind continued to whirl in thought, “I’m actually a really good kisser.”

You snarled your lips up slightly as you continued to hyper-fixate on the insult the clown never gave you.

“I’ll show that prick exactly how much of a good kisser I can be,” you growled under your breath.

As your thoughts continued to whizz throughout the recesses of your brain, your concentration lapsed as the course stone you were using to sharpen your scalpel slipped from your rough grip. The blade slashed a nasty, deep cut along your right palm as the stone slid away.

A loud shriek and a string of expletives left your lips unceremoniously as you dropped the scalpel and rose to your feet, cradling the back of your right hand in your left and raising the injury above your head. You growled at the impact your own stupidity brought towards you.

You used your foot to pull down the leaver of your door handle and swung it open with your toe, spinning around gracefully as your eyes winced in pain from your injury. Scurrying up the stairs and around the corridor, you found the kitchen with no one in sight. You gasped out a slight air of relief as you let a small sob escape from your lips as you searched for the first-aid kit Chef Zeff provided for “the next time the sword-kid does something stupid,” if your memory serves you correctly.

You brought the kit to the counter directly beside the sink and plopped it down, your injured hand hovering beside your head as you felt warm liquid pour down your forearm. You took your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the pain.

“Oh, get a hold of yourself, woman,” you yelled at yourself, blissfully unaware at the entrance of Zoro equipped with the severed head of the clown as they both froze at the sight that lay before them.

“What happened?” you heard Zoro call to you, plonking Buggy’s head on the hanging felt-lined table before weaving his way around the kitchen island benchtop and hastily scurrying to your side and cradled your right wrist within his hands.

You jumped at the sudden interruption and faced Zoro as he assessed your injury, ignorant of the current location of Buggy’s head as the clown’s eyes were wide and full of concern.

“I-,” you started, darting your eyes between Zoro’s and your hand, words catching in your throat. He continued examining your hand and brought it up to his face.

Zoro pressed on your hand slightly as you hissed a wince through your teeth. Zoro rolled his eyes at you before holding your hand under the running tap.

“What was it?” Zoro monotonously asked you quietly.

“Leather-working scalpel,” you confessed through your still clenched teeth.

“You’re an idiot,” he said, turning off the tap.

“So are you,” you spat at him before looking to your wound before darting your eyes towards the ceiling and holding it there.

“Has it stopped bleeding?” you asked him, prompting him to lean forward to check.

“Nope,” he said nonchalantly with a shrug.

You continued to hold your gaze on the ceiling as Zoro raised your hand from the sink and began to dab at it with a gauze rag from the first aid kit gently. You bit your lip and continued to hold your sights on the ceiling to avoid making eye contact with both your wound and Zoro’s disapproving glare.

“Look,” Zoro said, while still dabbing at the wound, “I cause the injuries, not manage them. Not really sure what I’m doing here-,”

“Put some pressure on it,” you heard a gruff voice utter almost inaudibly, prompting you to turn your head to seek out its source.

It was there again where you met the blue-green irises of the infamous clown captain you had come to unrequitedly adore. You scolded yourself for the happenstance of your secondary meeting with him aboard the Going Merry, as you continued to hold his gaze.

“You say something, clown?” Zoro growled slightly at Buggy. After a brief pause, Buggy again uttered to the two of you.

“Put some pressure on it and come here,” he said, his tone serious and almost caring. You knit your eyebrows in concern before looking to Zoro for permission to follow the commands of a foreign captain.

He reluctantly released your hand from his ministrations and held his hands up defensively before ushering you to place yourself before the clown. You grabbed the piece of gauze Zoro was holding and pressed it on your hand while avoiding looking at the wound. Sitting atop the blue and white canvas fabric of the dining room lounge, you brought your injured hand upon the teal felt of the table where Buggy’s head was currently residing.

“Hold it, firmly,” Buggy ordered in a voice above a whisper before angling his head towards Zoro.

“And you,” he taunted, “bring us a bandage, some more gauze and a bottle of rum before you kindly fuck off.”

Zoro had a growl rumble in his chest at the taunt of the genius jester before he turned to lock eyes with yours. You pleaded with your eyes to do as the captain commanded, an apology also laced within your expression. Zoro, having mastered the skill of reading your looks, sighed before handing you a coiled bandage. He placed his hand on your right shoulder and squeezed it slightly before wordlessly exiting the kitchen, his right wrist hanging limply above his remaining white sword attached to his side.

Once Zoro left the kitchen, you turned to fix your sights on the clown captain’s animated head.

“Look-,” you began, before Buggy interrupted you.

“After you stop the bleeding, splash a bit of rum on the wound to sterilize it,” he clearly directed in a soft tone, “then place the fresh gauze on it and hold it there.”

You nodded your head in understanding before following his directions. You released a light groan from within your lips in reaction to the sting of the spiced alcohol on the cut before placing the gauze atop it.

“Now what?” you asked him.

“Now,” he directed you, “get the bandage and place the starting tab over the gash. Wind it over the top a couple of times and then circle it around your wrist.”

You nodded again, following his instructions before his voice again spoke.

“Not too tight!” he said, a little more loudly this time, “we don’t want you to lose your pretty hand now, do we?”

Your eyes widened at the comment as you held your sights on the dressing of your wound. You released some of the tension you were providing on the material as you followed his direction and followed the interweaving pattern all the way to the end of the material.

“There’s a good girl,” he praised you, his voice purring slightly.

The blood rushed to your cheeks immediately at his comment, heat flushing your face with a fire-like intensity. Buggy laughed in glee at your reaction before again directing you.

“Now tuck the tab in at the base of your wrist and tie a knot within itself,” he snickered at you, prompting you to do as you were told, before then adding, “and then pour us a drink, will you?”

You fastened a tight knot securing the material in place before rising to your feet and making your way to the teal cabinet. You located two shot-glasses and promptly swung the cabinet door closed and secured it with a slight click. Turning back and briskly making your way back to the clown, you placed the empty drinking vessels down in front of the two of you; you reached your freshly bandaged hand and uncorked the rum and poured two generous shots of rum into them.

You furrowed your brows while contemplating your next actions.

“What is it, Sunshine?” Buggy asked, beaming a playful grin on his face; his teeth bearing at you as his eyes twinkled with playfulness.

“May I ask,” you began, placing your elbows on the felt surface of the table and bringing your hands to lay flat on the surface. You quirked your head slightly to the side as you rose one of your eyebrows up. Buggy was seemingly enchanted by your face, focussing on nothing else within the space.

“How comfortable do you currently feel with me?” you asked him, a smile playing at your mouth as you coyly looked down at the surface of the table.

“In what capacity?” He asked you, eyebrows raising slightly at the question but smile never fleeing from his face.

“Well,” you raised one of the glasses, while looking at the base of it, “you don’t have any arms, love.”

You placed the glass against your lips and promptly knocked the liquid back down your throat with a slight hiss as it burned its way down. He watched you as you placed the empty glass on the counter.

“And I,” you said, raising the other glass up and examining it, “happen to have no such hindrances.”

You proceeded to wave the glass slightly in front of his eyes, his mouth watering as it pictured the flavour within. You giggled a little at his hyper-focussed attention before you rose the second glass to your lips and consumed the liquid with one quick gulp. You exhaled a breath of delight as the clown began to berate you with a string of insults.

“Oh, you little tease!” he yelled at you, “after all I did for you with your bandage and your wound and you weasel me out of a free drink like a diminutive minx!”

You giggled and placed the empty glasses back on top of the table in response.

“Big words from a small clown,” you taunted him, pouring another two tall shots of rum into the glass vessels.

“I have a lot of big words I can use,” he spat before angrily adding, “and who’re you calling small? I’m the biggest you’ve ever had, baby!”

You laughed at that comment, recorking the bottle of rum as you rose a glass up in front of the two of you.

“Now that I’ve got you alone,” he had a slight tone of suggestion woven in his words as he continued, “let’s talk.”

“Let’s first be sure who got who alone,” you taunted him in return, bringing the small glass once more to your lips as you darted your tongue out to lick the rim to collect any residual rum that may have spilt from the last shot before consuming another. You held your eyes locked on his through the entire exchange, watching his every action as he your own.

He watched your ministrations with an intensity a puppy may exhibit as a tender portion of meat be swaying in front of their face, and you relished in every moment.

“Do you really think me so ignorant of wound care I would not know how to dress one myself?” you quirked your brow up with a small smirk after gulping the burning rum into your throat. A moment of realisation crossed the clown’s face.

“The swordsman,” he gasped slightly.

“What a smart boy you are,” you cooed, teasing him with your words of affirmation.

It was his turn to have a rosy flush creep upon his features.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” you asked him, raising the second full shot glass within your bandaged hand.

“You-,” he began in a slightly elevated tone before shallowing out his breath with a brief pause.

“I-?” you asked him with a small twinkle in your eye.

“Are just-,” he chuckled with a slightly gruff elevation to his voice before trailing off once more. It was if his mouth was withholding the information his eyes were screaming to express.

“Oh?” you asked him leaning further in towards him and leaning on your elbow while dancing the contents of the shot glass in front of him, “allow me to loosen that thought from you.”

You giggled as you placed the glass rim of the small cylindrical drinking vessel up to his lips and attempted to feed the rum into his mouth. He hungrily clasped his lips around the shot glass as some of the rum spilt through both corners of his mouth at his eagerness.

“Oh, you poor thirsty boy,” you pouted your lips as you cooed at him. His eyes snapped back to yours as his former fluster grew larger.

“You think just because I’m merely a head that I don’t have something to hold over you?” he spat while shaking slightly in rage.

“Please,” you pulled the cork from the rum bottle and once more poured two more shots into the small glasses, “enlighten me.”

“I have eyes and ears,” his ear jumped from its place attached to the side of his head and wiggled, causing you to shriek slightly in surprise. He chuckled, before adding; “everywhere.”

You watched as the little ear jumped on the table and made its way towards you as if it had two little feet below it; walking its way before you.

You knit your brows together in confusion, not quite understanding his actions.

“You’re not picking up what I’m putting down, are you, Sunshine?” he taunted you before adding, “allow me to enlighten you.”

Your eyes widened as the next words escaped his lips, prompting the former fire to make its way to dominate your features with the familiar red hue.

“I didn’t even enjoy it that much,” he mocked in a tone emulating your own, “I think I’m in love with Buggy the Clown.”

He relished in your humiliation as he relayed your own words to you. He bounced his head towards you and reattached his ear to his face.

“Although my favourite was from yesterday,” he taunted before continuing, “how did you phrase it again? I will actively do everything I can to seek him out, bring him into this room and desecrate your resting place with sounds so absolutely illicit, you would need to-.“

You cut him off, shrugging your embarrassment away and leaning towards him; “-seek exorcism to rid your soul from the memories and images conjured to you every time you close your eyes- At least that’s what I can recall if my memory serves me correctly.”

He was slightly taken aback by your indifference to his attempt to humiliate you further.

“Now,” you added, bringing up his shot glass and pouting slightly as you taunted him, “are you doing to be able to drink this like a big boy or are you going to spill it down your chin again?”

His eyes remained so wide he possibly had the ability to gaze into multiple dimensions. None of those dimensions, however, provided him with an appropriate response to your jab. He remained silent as his eyes fluttered between your own; your knowing smirk playing at your mouth as his gaze drew down towards it.

“I’d rather not waste good rum if it’s the latter,” you added before downing the spiced liquid and savouring in the warmth it brought to your chest. You watched his lip slightly quiver at your comment but chose not to acknowledge it.

“Y-You’re not even the slightest bit embarrassed at your words?” he managed to release from his lips as his eyes searched yours once more.

“Why would I be embarrassed? I’m the one who said them,” you shrugged in response, raising the second shot glass up; “say: ah,” you commanded him.

He opened his mouth ever so slightly for you to place the lip of the shot glass into it and poured slowly the contents into his mouth; another small trickle escaping the corner of his lip.

“At this stage, I have no choice but to either have you swig directly from the bottle,” you used your thumb to swipe the drop of liquid at the corner of his lips, “or simply spoon-feed you.”

You popped your thumb into your mouth and twirled your tongue around it to collect the rum from the tip, tasting the small amount of red paint you collected from his lips alongside it in the process.

“You drive me crazy, woman,” he gasped out in a breathy whisper, eyes never leaving you for a moment.

You giggled at his confession, tilting your head to the side slightly as to make yourself look as innocent as you could.

“Where were you, by the way?” you asked him, gesturing your finger to his ear, “I’m assuming you were with us since Orange-Town?”

“H-Hat,” he gulped slightly before chastising himself with a frown at the small break in his vocals, “I was in Luffy’s hat.”

“Are you sure?” you asked him, pouring more liquid into once glass this time, “I don’t remember taking that with me when I bathed.”

“I was in your skirt pocket,” he almost whimpered, gazing hungrily at you as he watched you slowly raise the top of the bottle up after filling the contents of one shot glass and recorking it, “Or I was lying beside you as you slept.”

This comment caught you off guard. From your prior apprehension of bringing yourself before the clown-captain, you had no idea your conversation would go in this way. He was so willing to depart any information to you at just a small question; not like any negotiations you had prior in dealing in trade for fine wares.

“You slept with me?” you arched your brow at him.

“I didn’t sleep,” he uttered quietly. You watched his expression go from hungry desire to an almost pleading look, “I-, I just-, I just wanted to know you.”

It was the second time you were caught off guard at the information he was so willingly spilling to you. You rose your eyebrows up to him and nodded to him to explain further his hidden intentions to you. He instead continued to search your eyes for any apprehension or slight air of disgust at his confession, and upon finding none; he continued.

“I wanted to know you,” he admitted again, confirming his words to both you and himself. No malice, no jokes, no hidden agenda was found on his face as he asserted his honest declaration.

“Why?” you chuckled slightly.

“You kissed me,” his bottom lip extended a slight jesting cringe before he smiled at the thought.

“You don’t get many of those?” you quirked with a light smirk.

“Not that I don’t pay for these days, no,” he admitted a gain, nodding his head before looking at the glass, “you going to give me that, or am I going to watch you drink it again?”

“I haven’t quite made up my mind,” you confessed to him, leaning back on your seat and arching your back to remove a kink it had developed while hunched over your desk earlier.

“You ok?” he asked you slightly, extending his chin slightly to acknowledge your movements.

“Are you concerned, sweet boy?” you asked him with a small smirk.

“I’m all man, baby,” he pouted slightly at your comment, prompting you to laugh in response.

You looked down into the glass before looking at Buggy again. You tucked a hair behind your ear as you shyly asked him.

“You know how I feel for you,” you said, nodding and looking again to the glass in your hands, “was it just the kiss you were hyper fixated on or-?” you teetered off that thought.

“You,” he said, emphasising it firmly, before adding, “at first I was just curious about why the ever living fuck you would do something so bold and so incredibly stupid as to kiss me.”

You laughed at that, nodding slightly.

“But as I listened, I learned more,” he said, slowly blinking as he gazed up at you, “and it’s safe to say I’m a little obsessed at this stage.”

You leant in a little and placed the shot glass against his lips as his eyes widened in surprise at its sudden approach. He gulped the liquid, again spilling some over his lips.

“We’re not quite getting the hang of this, are we?” you giggled, eyes drawn to the transparent amber tinted liquid as it turned a cloudy red while it mixed with his face paint. You watched a smirk pull at his lips before he teased you.

“You want to kiss me so bad, it makes you look stupid,” he uttered in a voice just above a whisper, mocking you as he focussed his gaze to your lips. You laughed at his comment as you inched your face closer to his and leaving a very small distance, halting the meeting of your lips with his own. You both closed your eyes as you shared the same air as one another, relishing in the proximity you held between one another.

“The same could be said for you. However,” you pulled your face away from his as you looked at him with both fondness and absolute empathy, “I don’t think I can kiss right now.”

An unadulterated rage flew over Buggy’s face as he yelled; “Why not?! I’ve been waiting so long!”

He opened his eyes to meet with yours as you brought your bandage-wrapped right hand up to cradle his stubble-adorned cheek.

“Oh, my darling,” you said to him, tracing small circles around his cheek with your thumb, “you look awful. You look like you haven’t slept for days, your face paint is all smudged and dishevelled, and you’re not in complete control of all of yourself.”

“What does that matter?” he again growled in frustration, voice more elevated than before, “you won’t kiss me because you don’t think I’m pretty in this lighting?”

“No, no, no, you misunderstand – or I’ve phrased my words poorly,” you waved your left hand dismissively, “I just-,”

“It was all a lie, wasn’t it?” Buggy asked you, his rage increasing, “everything. The kiss, the words – you knew I was there, didn’t you?!”

“Buggy,” you warned him in a harsh tone, “let me speak.”

“Why, so to spread more of your lies?” Buggy spat at you. This prompted you to reach over and cradle his face in both of your hands.

“You are beautiful,” you emphasised, holding his gaze against your own, “all of you is beautiful, Buggy.”

He winced at your words; “please, don’t. I don’t want any more of your lies.”

“The first kiss I bestowed to you was entirely against your will,” you reiterated, lifting his chin slightly in an attempt to pry his eyes to rest on yours, “and although I am an assertive woman and I know what I want,” Buggy’s eyes finally met with yours, “I wouldn’t want to relinquish any more control from you than I assume both my crew and Arlong’s have done over the past few days.”

Buggy gasped at your confession.

“Alongside what I had done in Orange-Town,” you added with a sad smile. He followed your eyes with his own and searched them, finding only honesty spooling from your lips.

“Right now, you’re just a head,” you shrugged your shoulders slightly at that, “and I have no idea what your body is currently enduring on Fish-Man Island.”

You released his cheeks from your hands as you reclined back into the white and blue material of the couch.

“I want to kiss you,” you confessed with absolute rectitude, “but I want you in control this time. No tricks, no hidden agendas-,”

“-No knife-stealing, no interrogations,” Buggy added with a small smirk. You laughed at his comment before nodding.

“Yes, exactly. No performing the means to an end in an act of self-preservation - which I feel I should inevitably apologise for, I might add,” you nodded your head. He chuckled slightly at your request for forgiveness.

“So what about the sleep deprivation and the face paint?” he asked again with a small air of distaste.

“I want you looking exactly the way you want, and I want you to feel well rested and fully in control of your actions,” you shrugged again, “and you probably haven’t eaten anything for the past few days. I want all of those things for you first.”

“Baby, you and I have different priorities,” he laughed wholeheartedly, before halting his laughter and looking at you with appreciation and sincerity, “and that is why I fell in love with you.”

Chapter 10

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#one piece #opla #x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #one piece live action #captain buggy #opla fic #buggy #buggy fic

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peachesofteal · 1 year

Text

I got you

How did this happen? I don’t know. I’ve been watching my person play too much MW2, and then went looking for Ghost fics, so now my brain is infected.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley/female reader AO3 - Part one of the Sassy series 3.8k words - one shot Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Blood, violence, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, size difference/kink, creampie, hurt/comfort. Lots of swearing. Everyone is bad at feelings. Notes: EOD = Explosive Ordnance Disposal. He doesn't know your name. You've never seen his face.

It’s fucking hot. Belize is so hot. It’s the kind of hot that clings to every pore of your skin, the sweat slicking across your body until you’re shiny, breath coming in short pants because the air is so god damn thick.

“Sassy. Do you copy.” Soap’s voice rings over the comms, snapping you to attention. Your fingers slip on the button. Belize would probably be better if this was a vacation, and not an Op. A gnat whines next your ear, and you press your chin into your shoulder.

“I’m in position.” You whisper. “All clear.” An affirmative rings back as Price gives command to the others. You sit silent. Gaz spits something over the radio, but it's not directed at you, so it doesn’t register. You sit still.

You always sit still.

“You the demo expert?” The brunette with a Scottish accent and scarred chin looks you up and down.

“I’m a bomb tech.” you dead pan, eyes darting around the tent. There are only 3 others here. You were expecting a whole team. He chuckles.

“Suicide squad. Nice.” Another man, rises from where he’s sitting a few yards away. You recognize him immediately. Price.

“Sassy.” He extends his hand, and you grip it in yours.

“Captain.”

“It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming on such short notice.” You nod, managing to steal another look at the others. A younger guy sits on a table in the far corner, ball cap sitting on top of his head. A bigger man, broad, stands near an open flap, arms crossed across his chest, eyes watching you from behind the skull mask that’s pulled down his face.

You do a double take. For a second, you think he’s Mace. Your heart pounds in your chest. Price is speaking, but you’re not hearing a word. Your fingers curl into a fist as you shake your memories loose and refocus. The man in the skull mask doesn’t react, doesn’t even flinch in reaction to your odd behavior.

That’s not Mace.

So, it must be Ghost.

“I’ve got two making entry, east side.” You whisper into the radio, watching the men push through the door. You’re nowhere near a clean shot. You curse. “Soap. Come in.” The line is silent, and unease pools in your gut. “Captain, do you copy.” You call, the words cutting into the air. What is going on? “SOAP.” The word is a hiss that’s met with uncomfortable silence. Fuck.

“Why does the Captain call ya Sassy?” Soap asks one night. You’re outside under the bug net, sitting on a picnic table with him. Ghost looms ten feet away, a barely touched bottle of beer looking tiny in his massive hand. You smirk at the question.

“I’m a pain in the ass.” You say affectionately, lips curling into a smile. “But I’m also the best.”

“You’ve gotta be next level crazy to run with EOD.” Soap tilts his beer to his lips, polishing the rest off with a burp. “’Scuse me.” He stands, he stumbles, he dips into the dark where he can’t be seen. You hear the tell-tale sound of a zipper being pulled down.

“How long you been a bomb tech?” you whip your head around at the sound of Ghost’s voice, directed towards you. It nearly makes you stutter.

“A few years.”

“That all you do?” The presumption shocks you. Private sector or not, these guys were all the same. If you’re a bomb tech, you must not be able to handle a gun. You whirl on him fully, taking two steps in his direction, your own glass bottle pointed in your hand.

“The fuck did you just say to me?”

He cocks his head.

“Can you shoot, Sassy?” your upper lip trembles as it curls in disdain.

“I can shoot your dick off if you’d like.” He’s still ten feet across the way, but you’re shaking with anger. You watch as the impression of the mask shifts, the bottom half of the skull moving with his lips.

He’s fucking smiling at you.

You’re about to let a stream of expletives fall from your mouth when Soap stumbles back under the net, face goofy and carefree. He draws your attention to a specific lightbulb, drunkenly mumbling something about its color that briefly distracts you.

When you look back at Ghost, he’s gone.

The men are setting charges against the exit door that the 141 is planning to use. “Damn it all to hell.” You curse, slinging your rifle over your shoulder and making a beeline off the roof. “I’m vacating.” You huff into the comms. “Inspecting demo charges, east side. Does anyone copy?” The radio silence is freaking you out. The 141 is practically a machine, for Christ’s sake. Methodical, clinical, well-practiced. A small infiltration should have been a piece of cake. You’re scurrying down a ladder when the radio crackles. Your diaphragm heaves in relief. Ghost’s voice fills your ears.

“Roger Sass. Keep me informed.” Me, not us. He’s slipping.

The door wasn’t locked.

The door wasn’t locked, and you really had to pee. These guys could piss in the yard, they could piss in a can, they could piss out the window of the truck for all you gave a shit. You needed a toilet.

You shouldered through the door, eyes down until you felt it slam against solid mass.

When you jerk your head up in confusion, all you see is black face paint and blonde eyelashes in the little mirror over the sink. The look in his eyes as he meets your gaze stuns you.

Ghost.

“Shit. Fuck.” You avert your gaze like you’ve seen him naked. Which is ridiculous, honestly. You didn’t even see the man’s whole face. “Sorry.” You mutter, turning on your heel.

“You’re alright, Sass.” He steps away from the sink. “I’m finished.” You stand halfway in the doorway, halfway in the tiny bathroom. You’re not even sure it is tiny, to be honest. It just looks small compared to his giant frame. You eye his bare hand, foreign to you without the glove, and swallow.

“Okay.” You turn to the side to give space for him to squeeze by you. He’s still wearing his tac gear, down to the tight-laced boots and vest. You already shed yours when you crossed the threshold of the tent, depositing it in the corner so you could breathe a bit. You shift when he passes, the roughness of his vest brushing against your thin sports bra and tank top. He’s looking down at you as he pauses in the doorway, with his head cocked to the side, brows lowered, eyes cataloguing your body. He lingers on the gash in your shoulder.

“Get that cleaned up.” It’s an order.

You swallow, even though your mouth is well past dry.

“I’m pushing towards the door.” You cross the street like a cat, slinking against the buildings and sticking to shadows. Soap chirps something over comms, but it’s too garbled to hear. You creep around the corner, ducking your head once to check for all clear before you’re crouched, walking slowly towards where you see the blinking charges. “I’ve got live explosives.” You wipe a bead of sweat from your forehead as you whisper into the comms. “Repeat. Live charges on east door.” It’s Price that answers you, a gunshot echoing from two floors above.

“Clear it, Sassy.”

“Copy.”

“I knew a guy.” You shrug nonchalantly, trying to play it off, but your eyes dart between the three of them.

“That wore a skull mask?” Gaz’s voice is incredulous, and you don’t blame him. It’s hard to believe. You nod. Ghost’s eyes watch you from the dark. They pin you down, marking your every move. You push it further.

“His name was Mace. I ran in a private company with him for a minute.” Soap visibly shifts, body angling towards his LT. Ghost’s hand flexes on his thigh. The fidget confirms your suspicions. You sip the last of your beer and beam it towards the rim of the metal trashcan. “It was short lived.”

They’re rudimentary. You’ve seen shit like this before, usually in IEDs, sometimes in homemade Semtex. You can practically hear your dad’s voice as you snip and pull wires. It’s like a dance. Watch your feet, or it’l go hot on ya. The lack of sophistication is laughable, and you’re pulling the first one off the door hinge in record time. You’re nearly congratulating yourself, all cocky and stupid, when you hear the telltale click of a gun.

The end of a barrel presses to the back of your skull.

“Don’t move.” You raise your hands slowly as the voice instructs you. “Turn around.” Your stomach bucks into your throat as you eye the man and his wild eyes. He looks desperate. Not good. “Those your guys up there?” He nods his head upwards. You stay still. You stay silent.

It started as a drinking game. You’d lose a hand; you’d tell a truth.

He’d lose a hand; he’d tell a truth. The half empty bottle of tequila lubricated you both, keeping you loose and easy, little pieces of your lives slipping your from lips without a care.

“You know mine.”

“Everyone knows yours, Simon.” You use it for affect. You can practically see him scowling under the mask.

“That’s what I want Sass, you lost. You spill.” He turns away from you and swipes the bottle from the table, lifting the bottom of the mask to take a swig. You sigh.

“Not going to happen. Pick something else.”

“Come on.. It’s just your name.” the gravel in his voice sends shivers across your skin.

“And it’s just your face.” His head jerks back in surprise, and he puts the bottle down on the table unfolding his giant legs from underneath the picnic table. He’s leaving. “Oh, come on.” You call at his retreat, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even look back at you.

“Well?” The man steps closer, and you eye the other charge that’s still live. You’re not good in these situations. You’re a bomb tech, not a people person. The gun barrel presses more firmly against your head.

“Ye- yeah. They’re mine.” He leers at you. He’s not the same as the other two, the guys who planted these charges. He’s someone else. Your radio crackles.

“Sass.” It’s Ghost. You close your eyes for a second and try to get a handle on yourself. You’ve been through way worse. Get it together. “Sass. You copy?” The man with the gun studies you for a second, before he’s reaching for your radio, ripping it from your tac vest as hard as he can. You watch as his finger presses on the comm button. You lunge, yelling in warning, hoping it makes it through the static. He spins, trying to dodge you but you reach for his gun, desperate to pull it from his hands before he can fire it. You hear shouting behind you, the heavy thud of familiar footsteps drawing closer as you wrestle over the weapon. You catch a glimpse of Ghost from the corner of your eye before the guy you’re fighting with is turning, barrel pointed right at your chest. Shit.

“How’d you get into bombs?” you laugh at the question, and then tilt your head and study him.

“I like puzzles.” His eyes flick back and forth behind the mask, watching you as you watch him. You decide to test it. “My Dad can’t do a crossword, but he’s got a way with wires. Passed it down to me, I guess.” He nods knowingly. You don’t say anything further. The air between the two of you feels thick, and it’s not just the heat.

“How’d you get into SAS?” he grunts.

“I’ve got a way with guns.”

Your eyes blink open slowly to the feel of your cheek being smashed against someone’s tac vest. The guys are shouting. An engine is roaring. Your abdomen is burning.

“Shit.” You slur, vaguely aware that you’re sitting in someone’s lap, arms supporting your body as the truck careens around a corner. “Shot?” your mouth struggles to form the word and you look down to see a massive hand pressed against your ribcage. Ghost’s hand. Your own fingers crawl over his. They’re wet. Blood.

“Don’t move, Sass.” His voice is low, and he only glances down at you for a second but you know. You can feel it in the way his palm presses into your wound. You can see it in the tick of his jaw. You groan.

“Fucker shot me?” Your tongue weighs a million pounds. Gaz swears nervously next you on the seat.

“You’re alright.” Ghost says, legs flexing as the truck takes another turn, trying to keep you from jostling too much. “You’ll be fine.” You nod your agreement. You feel thick fingers stroke through the hair at the crown of your head as you drift off, the world tinging to black around you.

“LT doesn’t call you Sassy.” Johnny muses. You stretch your arms in the chair, twisting your back in hopes of cracking it a bit.

“He doesn’t.” you confirm. It’s just Sass with Ghost. Always.

“Why?”

“Don’t know.”

You wake again when you get back, your body still pressed the Ghost’s chest as he powers through camp, practically running towards the med tent. Everything feels like it’s happening in slow motion, and at superspeed. You can’t see straight. The fire shooting in your nerves makes you want to gag. There’s someone else, walking next to you. They’re speaking in low tones to Ghost, and they brush their hand along your shoulder like they’re trying to grab you. He barks something at them, curling your body closer to his, and then you’re slipping away again, closing your eyes to fall into darkness.

“Do you ever think about what’d you do, if you didn’t do this?” he shakes his head no, immediately.

“You?” you drink a swig of water, holding the bottle out to him. His fingers wrap around yours as he takes it.

“I think I’d like to work an office job. Something boring, you know. Uneventful.”

“You wanna be bored, Sass?” You shrug, and step closer, your hips brushing between his spread legs. He blows a breath out through his nose.

“I’m sure I could find a way to make it interesting.” You take another sip, letting a single drop slip from your bottom lip and down your throat. Ghost tracks it the entire way.

He doesn’t really speak to anyone for days after you wake from surgery. And when you’re finally moving around, back with the team, he acts like he can’t see you.

It’s weeks later, when you sit next to him at the top of the stairs of the new safehouse you all moved to. The rest of the team is down in the living room, crowded around the smallest TV that Gaz rigged, watching a soccer game.

“You good?” you ask and turn to him. He doesn’t respond, just stares at the peeling paint on the opposite wall. You reach out to him slowly, watching his eyes flicker in case it’s more than just, general brooding Simon. “Ghost?”

“He put a bullet in your ribs.” Oh. Oh.

“Shit happens.” You shrug and try to play it off.

“Shit doesn’t happen to you.” He turns to look right at you, something wild lurking beneath his skin. His hand shoots out and grips you by your collarbone, five fingers folding over it with ease. He could snap you in half. You swallow thickly.

He jerks your torso, moving you like a ragdoll until he’s leaning down into your face.

“Shit doesn’t happen to you.” he says again, and you nod. His grip is strong, and his blatant contact with your body heats something alive between your legs. Something the two of you have been dancing around until this point.

“Okay. Okay, Ghost. I got you.” You whisper. His ungloved hand comes up to press a thumb into your bottom lip, sliding it across the skin there. He’s wearing the mask, but you can see the blonde flutter of his eyelashes, eyes heavy as he regards you. You blink once, twice, before he’s hauling you up with both hands, wrapping an arm around your pliable body and pushing you into the shadow of the landing. For a moment, neither of you move, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay when he pushes you back against the wall, nose pressing into the curve of your jaw, fingers stroking the outside of your pants above your cunt. It stuns you, it thrills you, and you’re immediately trying to strategize how to get your hands inside his pants. He pats you softly and it’s not enough friction, so you push your hips towards him, fingers trying to loosen his belt. He grabs your wrist, and you look up at him. He’s staring at you differently, intensely, like he wants to pull you apart and put you back together. You gulp, and then he snakes his fingers beneath the waistband of your pants, down to the seam of your cunt. The pads of his fingers are calloused, and you bite down on your tongue as he strokes over your clit. Your body explodes with tiny little shocks, and you whimper, your lips pressing to the outside of the cloth stretched across his face. “You’re wet.” His voice is rough. “Y-yeah.” You stutter. “That’s what happens.” He growls. “Your mouth” he thrusts a finger upwards inside you, forcing you to gasp. “is annoying.” You lean your head back against the wall give him an open-mouthed smirk. “So shut me up then.” His head tilts, and something dark flashes across his eyes. You grin.

He’s got your pants down around your ankles, your face pressed against the cool stone of the wall, and a hand up your shirt, fingers twisting one of your nipples as the other swirls the head of his cock through your wetness.

“Fuck.” He growls above your ear, his cock breaching you, pushing steadily against your walls, slowly tearing you apart. Your cunt clenches around him, the burn of the stretch too good, and too much at the same time. His shoulders bear over yours, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

“Ghost.” You whine, palms slapped against the wall. His free hand moves to cover your mouth.

“Hush. You can take it. Hold still.” You freeze because, well, Simon says. You shriek against his hand as his cock pushes into your cervix. He’s so big. It hurts. It feels so good. He thrusts, dragging his cock down and then up, over and over until you’re a teary mess, grunts and whimpers slipping out between the lips you’re trying to keep closed. He pauses, fingertips lightly brushing over where gauze is still wrapped around your body. “Good?” he whispers above your ear, and you nod frantically.

So good. Too good. Don’t stop.

He fucks into you slowly, working you open with a patience that surprises you. His breathing is harsh and unsteady, one arm bracing against you to hold your body in place, the other pressing against your cunt, his fingers finding your clit with ease. It’s too much, and your body jolts backwards, nestling your ass deeper in waiting space between his hips. He holds your there, rubbing circles around your clit and sliding his cock in and out of you, the sounds your bodies are making together probably way too loud considering the team is sitting just downstairs. His hand releases your mouth, and you shove your face against the wall, desperate to find some leverage.

His lips press against the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. His lips without the mask. Your eyes widen as you make the realization, your brain putting it together as you feel his teeth nibble into you, lips sucking blood to the surface of your pores so he can mark you. You can’t turn your head to look, and even if you wanted to, you don’t think you would. He doesn’t even know your name. He groans into your skin, the feeling of his unmasked jaw pressing against you is something you’re going to be holding onto long after Belize. He strokes your clit, pushing and pulling your body towards an orgasm, your walls clenching down on him as he ruts against you.

“F-fuck, Sass. That’s it, good girl, that’s it. Come for me.” The praise electrifies you, and then you explode into a white-hot orgasm, coming with him lodged deep inside of you, his arm holding your twitching body against his. He fucks you through it, steadily, rushing after his own release, and he presses his nose into your hair as he whispers something unintelligible. Your orgasm is still lingering, every one of your nerves alive and on fire, and you’re a whimpering mess against him. The floor creaks under the steady movement of his hips, his body working yours relentlessly as he thrusts up into you until he’s coming, filling you up, shaking with your call sign on his lips.

“So, you gonna let me see your face now?” you’re sitting out back on a half stack of bricks, passing a beer back and forth. He turns every time to adjust the mask when it’s his turn for a sip.

“You gonna tell me your name?” you chew on your lip, and he nods, handing the bottle back to you as he stands. “I don’t need your name Sass. I’ve already got you.” His fingers stroke through your hair, the touch soothing and sweet, and you find yourself speechless.

“You don’t have me.” You rebuff him indignantly.

“That so? We’ll see.” He leaves you sitting outside with the beer, eyes staring daggers at his retreating back. It’s a different thing, to be had, to be known, in a world like this. You don’t know if you can do it. You don’t know if he can either. You glance through the screen door into the back of the house, where he stands leaned against a counter talking to Soap. His head tilts, and he finds you with that same gaze, the one he gave you when he had himself buried in your cunt. You shiver.

Okay, Ghost. I got you.

I’ve already got you.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod mw22 fanfiction #cod fanfic #ghost cod #peaches writes #clearly i have a problem #female reader #sassy series

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buckychristwrites · 10 months

Text

Could This Be | Chap. Five | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy :)

Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog

“Should we go in, then?”

“Probably.”

Despite this, the both of you continued to sit in Jamie’s idling car. A slow trickle of rain fell on the windshield. From what you could tell, Keeley and Roy had not arrived yet.

“Unless you want to wait for them?” You asked him. All he did was shrug. It was clear that he was anxious too. He kept pulling at the end of his jacket, you noticed, and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Raising your hand slowly, hesitantly, you reached over and placed it on his forearm lightly. He jumped at the contact before whirling his head to face you.

“It’s gonna be okay,” You said softly. He looked between you and your hand, taking a deep breath before nodding. Just as he was about to speak, you looked over his shoulder to find Roy and Keeley on the other side of the street, approaching the door to the restaurant. You nodded in their direction. “They’re here. You ready?” He nodded before turning the car off and climbing out. You did the same, walking to the other side of the car where he stood. He held his hand out for you, raising his eyebrows in question. Your heart rate picked up from the anxiety the gesture brought, but even still, you reached out and pressed your palm into his. He adjusted his hand to entwine your fingers into his own before leading you across the road.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It was so simple. Yet, you had forgotten what it was like to have your hand held so delicately. His hand was warm against yours, but in a comforting way. His fingers were wrapped tightly around your hand, but not too tight to where you felt like you were in trouble, yet not so loose that you felt like he was doing it out of obligation. Both of those feelings, you were all too familiar with. There was something about the way his fingertips felt against the top of your hand that was so… consoling.

It made you want to cry on the spot. But, this time, not from sadness, or fear.

You wanted to cry out of euphoria.

Keeley caught sight of the two of you first, her face instantly breaking out into a wide smile.

“I can’t fuckin’ stand how cute the two of you are,” She said, shaking her head as she opened her arms for a hug. You walked into them, Jamie hugging Roy at the same time. When Keeley pulled away so she could hug Jamie, you turned to Roy.

“How’s my favourite grumpy old troll?” You asked him as he kissed your cheek and hugged you.

“I feel like I see enough of you pricks without having to spend a whole dinner with you,” He grumbled, although you could just make out the playful tone in his voice. You rolled your eyes at him. Jamie opened the door to the restaurant and allowed Roy, Keeley and then yourself to enter before following behind. His hand brushed against yours as the group approached the hostess, and, instinctively, you slipped your hand in his, entwining your fingers for him this time.

The fact that the feeling of your hand being held left you with butterflies in your stomach made you feel so stupid. It shouldn’t be this groundbreaking to your stupid brain that you were holding someone’s hand without being afraid. But you continued with it anyway.

The hostess led the four of you to your table right away, allowing you to sit at the window table. Jamie pulled your chair out for you, a deep heat filling your cheeks as you sat down under the suspicious stare of Roy Kent, who had already sat down. When Jamie’s hand left yours, your skin was left with a cold void. The waitress was already swooping over with glasses of water before your chair was even scooted in.

“Jamie, when did you become such a gentleman?” Keeley asked, her hand over her chest. He looked between the three of you as he took his own seat. Clearly, he hadn’t done something he felt was worth commenting on.

“Oh erm…”

“Isn’t he such a gentleman though?” You interjected, saving him from answering. “He even brought me flowers when he picked me up. Beautiful bouquet of roses.” You put a hand on his upper arm and gave it a squeeze. “Part of the reason I like him so much, I think.” Roy, who had been taking a drink of his water, snorted, blowing bubbles into his glass and subsequently getting water all over himself. Everyone else at the table wordlessly decided to collectively ignore this.

“So,” Keeley said, resting her chin over the tops of her hands. “Tell me everything.”

You and Jamie exchanged a look. It was too much to expect the subject to not be brought up so early in the dinner. Though, you were hoping to at least have some bread before it was mentioned.

“Well, obviously, we met at work,” Jamie said, throwing his napkin on his lap. You had to resist the urge to run your hands down your face.

Sweet fucking Jesus.

“Well, I’ve been enlightened,” Roy said, having just finished cleaning the water off his black button up shirt.

“It wasn’t because of work that we started talking though,” You explained, smiling sweetly at Keeley, who was still eagerly listening to the two of you.

“Oh yeah, we ran into each other outside of work one day,” Jamie added. You looked at him before looking back at them. Now he was giving you something to work with.

“Oh? Where did you run into each other?” Keeley asked. You glanced at Jamie again right as he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“The Zoo.” It slipped out so fast that you weren’t sure who had said it until everyone turned to stare at you. You nodded, standing by your answer. “The London Zoo. We ran into each other there.” Roy turned to Jamie.

“Why the fuck were you at the Zoo?” He asked. Jamie looked positively offended by the question.

“I love animals.”

“Enough to go to the Zoo by yourself?”

“Who said I was by meself?”

“Who were you with then?”

Jamie stammered for a moment too long before finally saying, “...Meself.”

“I personally love going to the zoo by myself,” You chimed in casually just as the waitress came by with a basket of bread and to take drink orders.

“We all are aware of your passion about zoos and animals,” Roy said as he ignored the new presence looming over the table. “I’m talkin’ about ‘im.”

“I’d love some wine,” Keeley said happily to the waitress, entirely unfazed by whatever it was that was happening at this table.

“Just keep the whiskeys comin’, love,” Jamie added, giving the waitress a tense smile.

“Same for me,” Roy said, glaring at Jamie.

“I’ll just stick with water,” You whispered before taking a long sip. This was clearly going to be the longest night of your life, and while you would rather be drunk for it, someone needed to be sober. And you weren’t sure that someone was going to be Jamie, who had also been your ride.

“What were you doing at the zoo, Jamie?” Keeley asked. He raised his shoulders in a shrug.

“Just felt like walkin’ amongst the animals.” He took a long drink from his water glass, and you did the same.

“And you two just ran into each other?” She followed up. You looked over at him, imagining this fake meeting in your mind.

“Yeah,” You said quietly. “We got to talking, and then the next thing we knew, hours had passed and we had just been walking around in circles!” Keeley smiled as if she was watching a romantic comedy in real time. You felt like you were an actor in one. Playing out the scenes but none of them actually being your own.

“What’s your favourite animal at the zoo then, Tartt?” Roy asked as he took another drink from his water glass.

“Pandas. Easy,” Jamie said confidently, folding his arms in front of him. It took everything in you to not slide out from your chair and under the table. You reached over and put a hand over his.

“...Would be your favourite if they had pandas, like we talked about when we ran into each other!” You said through your teeth. Jamie smiled.

“Right. Fuckin’ love pandas. They should be at every zoo.”

“You had mentioned the African wild dogs were really good, if I’m remembering correctly,” You said as you scratched your forehead. Jamie snapped his fingers before pointing at you.

“That’s what I meant. African wild dogs.”

“Yeah, because African wild dogs are so similar to fuckin’ pandas,” Roy retorted. You grabbed a piece of bread and stressfully took a very large bite.

“It’s the fur pa’ern,” Jamie tried to defend himself, gesturing around his eyes. “They got the dark fur around their eyes, yeah? Similar to pandas.”

“Isn’t the bread here just amazin’!?” Keeley asked as she took a piece for herself. It was unclear if she was trying to alleviate the tension or if she just really thought the bread was good, but you were thankful for her input regardless. Both Roy and Jamie took that opportunity to take a piece of bread for themselves. The waitress came back with the drinks, setting them down and pulling out her pad for orders.

“We need a minute,” Roy told her before she could even get a word out. She nodded before wandering off again. You took the menu and opened it for the first time. Jamie, instead of reading his own, was looking over your shoulder.

“I recommend the fettuccine,” He said quietly, pointing to where it was on the menu. “Although their shrimp is pretty good too.” You glanced over the menu to see if Keeley and Roy were paying attention before turning your head slightly towards Jamie.

“I’m allergic to shellfish,” You whispered, desperate for the other two not to hear.

“You’re allergic to shellfish?” He whispered back in a shock filled voice. You nodded.

“My throat will close right up.” You closed your fist quickly to demonstrate, causing Jamie’s eyes to widen. Roy dropped his menu loudly onto the table, making the both of you jump.

“You didn’t know she’s allergic to shellfish?” He demanded, sounding displeased, almost disgusted. You set the menu down lightly.

“It just hasn’t come up, Roy,” You said, trying and failing to not sound tired. “We’ve only just started dating. We’re still getting to know each other.” Keeley turned to Roy, putting her hand on his thigh.

“Babe,” She said gently. “You need to calm down.” His eyes rolled upward, staring at the ceiling as she chastised him. “They’re our friends, yeah? There’s no need to quiz them, or interrogate them! They’re happy, and we’re happy.” His eyes fell on Jamie once again.

“Yeah,” He grumbled. “Happy.”

Keeley turned around to face forward again, giving you another bright smile. You were so thankful for her at this moment. Though you knew that Roy meant well, you weren’t sure he always realised how incredibly intimidating he is. Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care. The waitress returned to take orders, and you did take Jamie’s suggestion to get the chicken fettuccine alfredo (no shrimp for you though). When she walked off again, you saw that Roy and Jamie both started and finished their whiskeys in the same gulp at the same time.

“What sort of things do you do together?” Keeley asked, sipping on her wine.

“Ride bikes!” Jamie was quick to answer on his own. This time, Roy turned to you.

“You fuckin’ hate cycling.”

You shrugged, trying to remain casual. “I’m getting into it.” You tilted your head, trying to look thoughtful. “Jamie’s helped me… see the fun in it. Like he did with you!” He looked so homicidal that you had to look away while drinking your water to avoid laughing.

“Sometimes we just run errands together, just so we don’t have to do them alone,” You added. “But also, obviously, to spend more time together.” Keeley looked lovestruck.

“Awww, you always talk about how much you hate doing errands alone!”

Which you did. It always felt so… sad to go to the grocery store or to the bank alone. Something about the fact that this was a lie made your chest hurt.

The waitress swept in again, this time to deliver the plates of food. The serving size was smaller than you had thought it would be, especially due to the amount it was going to cost. You weren’t used to fancy restaurants, mostly going to the local takeout spots near your house that gave you enough food to last a few days. Picking up your fork, you dug into your plate, as everyone else already had.

You looked over at Jamie, who you just now noticed had gotten the fettuccine as well. When he noticed your gaze on him, he raised his eyebrows in question.

“No shrimp?” You asked curiously. He shook his head, looking at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Didn’t want to risk it.”

“Risk what?” You asked. He pointed to you.

“You.” He looked confused. “Being near it makes your throat go-” He closed his fist tightly, just as you had done before. “-yeah?” You shook your head, biting back a smile.

“It’s only if I ingest it, or if it touches my food,” You explained.

He let out a quiet, “Oh,” looking down at his plate before his eyes were on you once more.

“Oh well.”

It was touching how he considered you when ordering his own food. There were specific memories in your head of parties (yes, multiple) thrown by your ex significant other where you couldn’t eat any of the food provided due to shellfish being involved. The sadness you had felt during those times was so vivid in your mind.

“Do you even know where the zoo is?” Roy asked, reeling the conversation back. You wanted to throw your fork at him.

“Camden,” Jamie answered without a second thought. You were surprised at the speed, but tried not to let that show in your expression. Roy didn’t say anything in response, just growling, as he always does, before turning back to his plate.

Soon enough, your plate was empty. The food wasn’t anything to phone home about, and certainly not worth the price tag, but it was decent enough. Jamie hummed, making you look at him in time to see him gesturing towards his mouth.

“You got somethin’…” He said. You went to grab your napkin, but he was already reaching over with his own. “May I?” You caught his eye before nodding. It was delicate, the way he wiped the alfredo sauce from your mouth. It was also incredibly intimate, and you could feel the embarrassment filling your chest. He didn’t appear to notice as he pulled away. “There ya go, love.”

The nickname caught you off guard. Of course, you had heard him refer to the waitress earlier in the same way, but you weren’t expecting the same treatment. Though, maybe that was on you for not. You tried to continue as normal, and not allow yourself to feel whatever it was that was boiling up in your chest. Was it anxiety? Was it delight? It was hard to say.

The waitress came back with the check, which Jamie snatched as Roy began to reach for it.

“I got it,” Roy said with his hand held out. Jamie shook his head, raising his hand so his palm was facing Roy.

“Please.”

“Give me the fuckin’ check, Tartt.”

Jamie didn’t say another word, instead just taking his credit card out of his wallet. When the waitress came by again, he all but threw them at her without breaking eye contact with Roy.

The way Jamie and Roy naturally butt heads on their own without your intervention had always been funny, but it being worse now that you were involved made it all the more hilarious.

Before long, the four of you were standing to leave. Just as you turn to walk away from the table, you find Jamie standing there waiting with his hand extended out towards you. It was hard to pretend you weren’t excited to have your hand back in his. When your fingers curled through his again, it felt like cuddling up under a blanket after a long day at work. Like your hand was just meant to be held by his. In a fake romantic sort of way, of course.

The rain was still softly falling. Your eyes drifted upwards towards the sky once you crossed the threshold into the cool night air. As you and Jamie walked, your intertwined hands naturally swung back and forth. Roy and Keeley turned before getting too far.

“Thank you for the lovely evening,” Keeley said, giving you a hug. Despite yourself, your hug back was only one armed, as you still had a grip on Jamie’s hand. He didn’t make any moves to break it either, as he said his goodbyes. When you turned to Roy, you gave him a small smile.

“Are you gonna start being nice now?” You asked him. He rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be the nicest fuckin’ angel on the planet.”

You gave him your most radiant smile.

“Thank you.”

When you hugged him, he didn’t say another word, but he gave you a tight squeeze. And that was enough. You knew exactly what he meant.

One more set of waves were exchanged as Jamie and you turned to head towards his car. He opened the door to the passengers side for you, and when you flopped in, your hand fell from his, leaving the void once again. He ended up only having one drink, the other one abandoned on the table once the food arrived. You were grateful, as you didn’t want to drive his car.

Jamie climbed into the driver’s side and shut the door. Staring at the steering wheel, a moment passed before he spoke. “I think that went alright.”

You wrinkled your nose in thought.

“I think it went as well as one could expect it to.”

As he pulled the car from the curb, you curled into your seat, the anxiety melting away now that it was just you and him.

“Glad I didn’t get the shrimp,” He mumbled. “Coulda killed ya.”

“It would’ve gotten us out of the dinner though,” You pointed out. “Wouldn’t have had to listen to you say there’s pandas at the London zoo.” He let out a loud laugh.

“I didn’t know!” He was laughing as he said this.

“That’s obvious,” You said, shaking your head. He shot you a pouty look, and you shook your head even more.

“We hadn’t even ordered at that point,” He pointed out. “So I woulda said it either way. Just couldn’t escape it.” You stared out the windshield, fighting the urge to laugh anymore.

“A shame.”

You watched the buildings go by as the car drove down the surprisingly sparse road. It was slightly dark, the only light being from the headlights and the post lamps.

“D’you know what though, I think we convinced Roy,” Jamie said happily. You rolled your head across the headrest to look at him.

“Maybe,” You said. “But he’ll probably still be mean to you.” He shrugged.

“I’m not worried.” He made a nonchalant face. “He’s already mean to me.” You fought a smile.

“That’s true,” You said. “Although, you deserve it sometimes.”

“Oi, when the fuck do I deserve it?” He demanded, staring at you as if you had betrayed him.

“When you’re being a fucking prick?” You shouted back at him in a questioning tone. He fell back in his seat.

“Yeah, alright.” A beat passed. “But most of the time, I don’t deserve it, right?”

You stared down at your hand, curling and straightening your fingers over and over to try and fight the tingling feeling creeping through them. It didn’t work, but you already knew why. If you imagined hard enough, you could pretend like a warm hand was still fit inside it. Maybe that was all you could do to fill the void. Just pretend.

“No, Jamie,” You said. “Most of the time, you don’t.”

TAGS

@daffieapple, @my-left-sock, @buckybarnex, @jelleeyfish, @ricciardhoe3, @picked-off-by-barzal, @lilweirdgal, @hotdoglamp, @loveslide, @rosea-h, @13-7-19-67-71. @wickedheartz, @xxenia14, @zazima, @alainabooks143. @geek-and-proud, @imagines-reblogged, @fuckifuckedup, @booklovingduck, @loveforaugust, @f1maverick, @jamieroyjamieroy, @meisterdani, @hanybunch, @batsy-bats1, @brianandthemays, @heletsmelovehim. @breepboopbap, @jellycolors

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #tedlassosource #ted lasso fanfiction

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julesthequirky · 2 months

Text

The Choice: Chapter Seven

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters/Pairings: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau and Ben (Soldier Boy)

Warnings: Language, typical Soldier Boy behaviour

W/C: 1,541

A/N: As you can see (for those who saw my post earlier) I have split the chapter into two. It wouldn't look right with all the chapters around the same and this one not.

A/N 2: Also it has crossed my attention that as much as you guys love these fics, please don't upload the ficpic to another social. I know none of the images are mine and you can decide to ignore my request, but it do 'make' them with the intent of them being uploaded solely by me. So far I've seen it on the pin board app.

Pulling yourself out of your reverie and ignoring the moisture between your legs, you located Dean in the hat section. He, of course, had on a cowboy hat and posing in front of the mirror.

“Lookin’ good, cowboy.”

Dean spun round with a sheepish grin on his face.

“You really think so?”

You nodded, reaching up on tiptoe, and angled the hat better. His green eyes bore into yours, and the moisture between your legs intensified. Those butterflies stormed your belly, causing a tingling to cover your entire body. Oh Lordy. Staring into his eyes had your brain short-circuiting.

“I love Westerns.”

“I know.” You replied as you moved your hands away.

His lips curved into a smile, which didn’t help the fluttering in your stomach. The Stetson he wore blocked off the surroundings, forcing you to focus only on him. You noticed how green his eyes could get, how the freckles speckled across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. You noticed the 5 o’clock shadow across his jaw and chin, the slight crook in his smile and just how pink his lips were.

Caught in his gaze, your heart beat just that little bit faster, and it ached just that little bit harder for the hunter.

“What d’ya think?”

You blinked and tried pulling words from your mushy, in-love brain.

“I think you should get it.”

He nodded and took the hat off.

The rush of Boot Barn came surging back. For a moment, you’d forgotten where and what you were doing. It was silly, silly schoolgirl feelings. Feelings you should push aside, but they just managed to get in the way.

A tap on your shoulder had you whirling around. It was just Beau with the boots and a selection of jackets.

“I couldn’t decide. Could you help?”

You nodded and took the jackets from him. All three were indicative of Beau’s style in Big Sky—black denim with a faux fur lining, tanned suede with a fur collar, and a typical blue denim jacket.

“I can’t decide either. I bet they’d all look great on you though.”

Beau blushed as he smiled, exactly the way Denise had complimented Beau in the first episode of season three. Dean, Beau and Ben shared this smile, and you had Jensen to thank for that.

“Darlin’ you say any more, and I’ma go redder than a farmer’s neck in the middle of summer.”

Damn that Texan. You gave him the jackets back and reached on tippy toe for a light brown Stetson. He ducked a little bit, allowing you to place it atop his head.

“There. It suits you.”

Beau’s face and neck went redder than a farmer in the middle of summer, leaving him speechless.

You clapped him on his shoulder and turned, only to be immediately put in a dour mood. Ben leant against the store’s wall, sweet-talking a female employee. Your heart whomped in your chest, emotion making it tighten. You weren’t sure why, but it felt like rejection.

The female employee smiled in Ben’s direction, giving him all her attention, twirling hair around her finger. Jealousy stabbed at you hard. Fuck him.

Ben turned his head to see you looking. He smirked and turned his attention back to the female employee. Instead of storming over there, you turned on your heel and went straight to the cashier with Beau and Dean.

At Walmart, you picked up a few plain colour t-shirts, Wrangler jeans, underwear, and socks for all three. Dean picked out a few flannels, as did Beau. Ben wandered around, trying to get your attention, and the petty person inside of you gave him the cold shoulder.

“You can’t be mad at me forever.”

You said nothing, moving the cart by some graphic t-shirts. Dean placed a set of two pyjamas, a long dressing gown, and a pair of slippers into the cart. Ben still had clothes to find besides the bare basics you had picked up.

Reaching out, you picked up a t-shirt with an American Eagle with the flag behind it. Patriotic. Sure, it was stereotypical, but honestly, you had no idea what he would wear. You pulled the t-shirt off the rack and brought it to Ben’s chest. He pulled a face at being treated like a child, but he wasn’t helping. You threw the T-shirt into the cart. Ben fished it back out, annoyance etching his face, and picked up a size bigger. Right. He was jacked. You’d forgotten that with the extra muscles, he would need a size larger than Beau and Dean.

You pushed the cart further, but Ben stood in front, gripping the metal, stopping you.

“I saw you when I was talking to that woman. You were jealous.”

You scowled and pushed against him, trying to ram the cart past, but all it did was jam one of the front wheels.

“Admit it, Y/N. You were jealous.”

Your scowl deepened. Ben wasn’t going anywhere, it seemed. Not until he got the truth from you. To evade him, you went to roll the cart backwards. The metal creaked in his hands. The cart wouldn’t budge.

“We’re not going anywhere until you admit it.”

“Why? So you can feel smug with yourself?”

Ben moved from the front of the cart to you. The metal had warped where he had held it, bending under the pressure of his hands. He stood tall, clearly using his height against you. You strained your neck, looking up. A dumb smirk sat on his face.

“Maybe it will make me smug, or maybe I’m trying to prove something to myself.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion.

“Like what?”

“Doll, what makes you think I’ll tell you before you admit to me your jealousy?”

Your scowl came back.

“I wasn’t jealous.”

He snorted with laughter. “Yeah, and I’m a virgin.”

You moved the cart, but he stopped you, again putting his hand on the cart.

“Sweetcheeks, just admit it.”

It was embarrassing to admit. Your pride made you too stubborn to admit. Your hands tightened on the bar. He tested you. on purpose. For what reason? Probably to find out if it would make you jealous or not. Well, it did, and he was probably right. But you weren’t gonna tell him that.

“Just pick out some damn clothes.”

Ben laughed. That deep booming laugh and walked away, allowing you some time for yourself. He knew how to push the right buttons. He knew how to get under your skin. Was that a good thing? Your ex couldn’t even begin to scrape the surface.

You followed as Ben wandered around the clothing section of Walmart. He grabbed some grey sweatpants and undershirt tank tops and threw them into the cart.

“You’re such an old man…” You muttered.

Ben turned around, throwing you a dirty look. Seems he didn’t appreciate that comment. Who wore undershirts in this day and age? Nobody you knew, that was for sure. He had only picked out a handful of clothes. Guess he didn’t need much.

You found Dean and Beau trying on boots. They were laughing together, doing impressions of someone. You didn’t get it until Dean lowered his voice, made himself look all serious and barked out:

“I fart the star spangled banner!”

Of course, it was a perfect imitation. Beau collapsed with a fit of laughter. Behind you, however, was another matter. You turned and collided with Ben. He huffed and snorted, nostrils flaring like a bull preparing to charge. You pressed your hand to his chest. Fuck, it was hot.

“Fuck you, you bendy legged fuckface!”

He stepped forward, forcing you back. You pressed a hand to his chest again.

“Please, Ben. He was only messing. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

Ben huffed, hands curled into tight fists. He didn’t care that he was in public, but you did. He took another step closer, again forcing you to step back.

“Watch your mouth.” Ben warned and walked off, presumably to cool off.

You stared after him, calling his name until you could no longer see him. It frustrated you at how sensitive the Supe was. It seemed he could give it but couldn’t take it.

“Jeez, he can’t take a joke, can he?”

You swiped a hand down your face and turned to Dean and Beau.

“Y’know, I was kinda hoping that since you both have a nice friendship thing going, that Ben would join in and have the same.”

Beau sat on the stool, looked at Dean and then at you.

“Darlin’…”

Honestly, you didn’t wanna hear it.

“Tell me you were only messing around, D?”

Dean sighed.

“Yeah, I was just messing around.”

But from his tone, you could tell he was lying. An array of emotions pained you, but disappointment was the biggest one that fatigued you. You had expected better of him and Beau.

“I’m gonna go look for him.”

Dean stood, moving the shoebox out of his way, before stepping to you.

“Y/N, c’mon…I was only messing around.”

“Oh, yeah? Who else did you impersonate? Or was it only Ben?”

“He does a really good Yogi bear impression.” Beau piped up, not helping at all.

“I know!” You snapped, storming off.

Tags: @yvonneeeee, @curlycarley, @angelbabyyy99, @sassy-pelican, @k-slla, @deans-spinster-witch, @ashdoctor, @eretsupremacy89, @fanfic-n-tabulous, @deans-number-one-fan, @afro-hispwriter, @justjensenandhisalteregos, @tiredstrangerr, @zemosdarling228.

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rhoorl · 9 months

Text

Delta Landscaping

Chapter 1: Welcome to Torrey Hills

It's here.

Series Summary: In this Triple Frontier AU, the boys start a landscaping business post-Colombia.

Series Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (18+). Not this chapter necessarily, but a blanket statement to this whole concept.

Chapter Summary: As much as we want to get to the thirst, there is some setup we need to do.

A/N: I first have to thank the amazing @goodwithcheese because, without The Layover, this idea would not have come to life. This entire concept was born from a scene in one of her chapters.

This AU stays true to cannon in some aspects (Tom is dead y'all) and not in others (the boys kept some of the money and Frankie does not have a kid). There is a main storyline, but also opportunities for extras/drabbles/asks … maybe a guest post or spin-off? I've included some Easter eggs and jokes throughout, some more obvious than others. From its conception this has been a group project, so let’s keep that energy going!

Finally, a big thank you to @gemmahale (our Technical Supervisor for all things plants and protective wear) and @trulybetty (the creator of our logo) for listening to my ramblings and for their advice and encouragement along the way! @patti7dc also contributed a hilarious idea for a commercial that had me cracking up.

Ok enough of my rambling, on with the show…(I hope you like it!)

_____________________

There's something kind of magical about when an idea finally comes together in your mind. Different thoughts, images, and words swim around in your head, some of them unconsciously, until they finally coalesce in the depths of your brain and bubble up. Going from abstract to clear and defined.

Benny had been grappling with forming an idea for months. It was right there, he could feel it. But it frustrated him because it never came together the right way.

_____________________

Nine months earlier

In the immediate aftermath of Colombia, the Delta Force boys tried to process what happened, each in their own way. Santiago took off for a few months traveling on his own, finding solace in discovering new places. Frankie came back with a renewed focus to get his life together, talking to a therapist Will recommended to him and going to weekly meetings. The more quiet and reserved one of the group, Will continued to find ways to help other veterans. He volunteered at the local VA and shuttled veterans to and from medical appointments. He found driving to be soothing for him – having a set path, a direction to go in, and accomplishing something. Sometimes his passengers wanted to talk, sometimes they didn’t. He was comfortable either way.

And then there was Benny. He needed to keep his body in motion to try and silence the whirl that went on in his head. Fighting helped. He continued training, getting booked for local fights in Tampa, sometimes making it over to Orlando or as far as Jacksonville. At first, it helped him numb some of the pain. He felt like dealing with physical injuries was easier than his mental or emotional ones.

When he wasn't fighting or training, he found himself returning to a love he had as a kid – drawing. At first, he didn't really draw anything in particular, just doodles. But eventually, his doodles started to form beautiful landscapes and vistas…pulling inspiration from places he had seen during his time in the service. The activity brought him a sense of calm, using his hands to concentrate and make something. It didn't have to be perfect or beautiful, it just was.

Months passed and the guys just sort of existed in this newfound reality. None of them really talked about Colombia to each other, leaving the hurt and pain largely unspoken. Benny, Will, and Frankie would see each other often throughout the week. Santiago would FaceTime occasionally depending on where he was in the world. Although the guys kept some of the money from their mission, none of them had really spent it. Benny never did end up buying that Ferrari.

One day while driving back home to the apartment he shared with his brother, Will decided to take a detour to drive through a few different neighborhoods. He and Benny tossed around the idea of buying a house together, even going so far as visiting some open houses together to check things out.

This neighborhood, Torrey Hills, was particularly beautiful, with a palm tree-lined entrance and expansive water fountain greeting you on the drive in. Will aimlessly drove around taking in the Mediterranean-style architecture. Lots of two-story homes, stucco and white brick, raw iron and metalwork. There were some ranch-style homes sprinkled throughout as well. He noticed one in particular that had a for sale sign – 319 Mulefall Court.

Parked on the street, he grabs his phone to do some quick research. He checks on the price of the house first, a lot lower than he was expecting just based on the looks of the neighborhood, which he confirms once he looked up some recently sold homes nearby.

"What's wrong with you?" He mumbled toward the house, wondering why it was valued so much lower than everything around it.

The housing market in Tampa was pretty competitive, something Will and Benny had already realized. Oftentimes by the time they found a house they both liked it was already under contract or had multiple offers. They conveniently kept the fact that they could pay cash for literally any house they wanted from their realtor; they wanted the house they chose to be special.

Will continued looking over the specs of the house. Four bedrooms, two and a half baths. Two-car garage. Pool. Pretty spacious backyard from the photos and from what he could see from the street. A beautiful, old oak tree in the front yard. He noticed there weren't too many photos of the interior of the house or much of a description.

Normally, he would text a listing to Benny to get his thoughts, but this time he went straight to calling the realtor’s number on the sign. The realtor, Ethan, picked up and was a bit surprised someone wanted to talk to him about that property. It had been sitting for a couple of months without an offer, so Ethan was eager to set up a showing for the next day.

When he arrived home, Will saw Benny sitting at their kitchen table, head down over his notebook with a pencil in hand.

“Hey man, what’re you doing?”

“Nothing just got an idea for something,” Benny said, not looking up.

Will heads to the refrigerator to pull out a beer, grabbing one for his brother as he goes to sit down in the chair across from him.

“D’you have a good day?” Benny asks, putting down his pencil and grabbing the beer from Will.

“Yea, Mr. Jacobs seems to be doing better.” Will pauses to take a swig of his beer. “So…I saw a house today.”

“What?”

“Well, from the outside. I have a showing tomorrow morning if you want to go.”

“Yea, where is it?”

“You know that Torrey Hills neighborhood? It’s in there.”

“Wooo, that neighborhood is nice! Are you sure you want to go all fancy?”

“It is a nice neighborhood for sure, it seems quiet. This place looks like it needs … some work.”

“How much work?” Benny is a bit skeptical of what his brother may be getting them into, but trusts that Will wouldn’t do anything too rash.

“It’s going to be a project.”

“A project?

“Yea. The house has been sitting for a couple of months,” he said as he fished out his phone from his back pocket, pulled up the listing, and handed it over to Benny. “Look, I figure we go in and take a look to see how bad it is. You know how much shit we built with Dad back in the day. We can even call Joel to see if he thinks it's doable for us to fix it up ourselves.”

Benny looks up from the phone and gives a little smile as he hands the phone back, “Sure, man. Sounds good.”

Will and Benny could buy any house. But rather than buy something brand new, they wanted to buy a house they knew needed a lot of love and care. They wanted little projects they could work on, either together or by themselves.

______________________________

As the guys walked through the threshold of the house with Ethan in tow, they realized they may be biting off more than they can chew with this place.

“Shit, how long has this place been empty?” Benny asks as he looks around.

“Well, the house was built in the ’90s and had the same owner for about 20 years before it became an Airbnb,” Ethan said as leaned on the kitchen counter. “Then, some guy bought it, trying to do some real HGTV-type shit in here. Bought it before the pandemic, but didn’t realize how much work goes into a complete flip, you know? It’s not like the TV shows. Anyway, he ended up getting in over his head with it and then the foreclosure happened. He left the place an absolute goddamn mess,” he gestured around. “The neighbors have been on my ass to get this place sold. The curb appeal is kind of bringing down the block.”

Will quietly walks around the living room, his mind working through logistics. He comes into the kitchen where Benny was checking out the cabinets and appliances.

“Ethan, can you give us a minute?”

“Yea sure, I’ll be out in the backyard, y’all take your time,” Ethan said as he attempted to open the glass door leading out to the back porch. Struggling, he decided to head back out to the front door and unlock the fence to the backyard.

“So, what do you think?” Will asked, arching his eyebrows.

“Psh, I don’t know man, this is kind of a shit hole, right?”

“Yea, but like … we could do this. Maybe get Fish to come over and we can demo the inside. Start from scratch?”

“We should call Joel.”

Their cousin was a contractor in Texas, so he would be able to give them his honest opinion of whether or not they could do this. They ended up calling him on FaceTime so he could see what they were dealing with.

“I mean, it’s not gonna be easy or quick, but I think y’all could do it,” his low Southern drawl reverberating in the empty living room. “Plus, when you’re all done I can come out and inspect it for you. Sarah has been bugging me about taking her to Disney,” he laughed.

“Oh hell yea, that would be awesome!” Benny lit up starting to see how it could all come together based on Joel’s suggestions.

Will hadn’t seen his brother get this excited about something in a while.

“Ok, Joel. We’ll talk to you soon … tell Tommy and Sarah we say hi.”

“Later guys.”

Hanging up and looking back at Benny, who still had a smile on his face, Will clears his throat.

“So, what do you think? Should we do it?”

“You already know what I’m going to say!”

“Alright, let’s go talk to Ethan,” Will says motioning to the front door.

Coming out of the front door, they head out around the right side of the house, picking their feet up high to walk through the overgrown grass and weeds.

“This fence looks a little rough,” Benny observed, jiggling one of the loose boards.

“Hey, stop that! Don’t fucking pull it out.”

“....that’s what she said?” Benny laughs.

Will rolls his eyes, slapping his brother on the chest. “You’re so fuckin’ stupid.”

As they head back, they notice the pool. Ethan was standing at the edge looking at his phone. He hears them traipsing through the overgrowth and turns around, “Hey guys, what do you think?”

“Well, it’s going to need a lot of work, that’s for sure, but, we want to make an offer.”

“Shit, really? I mean … cool. Yea ok, I’ll draw something up and send it over.”

Giving them both a handshake, the men start to walk back to the front. Benny pulls out his phone taking a few photos of the backyard and the front as they make their way back to Will’s Jeep.

Ethan gives them one final wave before pulling out of the driveway and heading out.

Will and Benny walk up to the driveway and give one final look at the house, Benny snapping a few more photos. They hear someone clear their throat behind them. Turning around they see a woman, around their age, walking a corgi.

“You guys going to buy that?” she nodded towards the house.

“Uh, yea we’re thinking about it,” Will said cautiously while Benny bounded past his brother to crouch down to pet the dog.

“Aw man, I love corgis!”

“Ha, thanks, he loves people so you’re making his day. My name is Megan, that's Bucky.” She extended her hand to shake Will’s first, looking down at Benny who got back up. Removing his backward baseball cap and putting it in his left hand to shake her hand.

“I live over there, the blue two-story with the basketball hoop,” she says pointing over to a house a few doors down and across the street.

“Do you play basketball?” Benny asks, reaching back down to give the dog some belly scratches.

“No, but my son does.” She reaches up to brush some hair out of her face and the boys both notice the huge diamond on her finger.

“What’s the neighborhood like?” Will could tell it was a nice neighborhood, but still wanted to do the proper reconnaissance.

“Oh, it’s pretty quiet. A few families, but some singles as well,” she eyes them both up and down. “You have some nice neighbors on both sides of you. We’ve been trying to have more events together, block parties, and stuff. Hopefully, you boys can fix up this piece of shit and we can all come over,” she smiles tilting her chin up at the house.

“Yea, well that’s the goal.” Benny looked up smiling, continuing to play with the dog.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you around hopefully.” She waves and continues her walk.

Later that night, Will was sitting in the living room playing some zombie video game when he noticed Benny head back over to his chair at the dining room table, notebook, and pencil in tow. Except this time Benny had some colored pencils with him too. Will saw his brother prop up his phone, using it as a reference for whatever he was drawing. A small smile on his face as he got to work.

______________________

The next month was busy getting everything together with the realtors. During that time, Santiago returned from his travels, wanting a bit more stability than the nomad life. He and Frankie had been helping the brothers pack.

Closing day comes and before they go in to sign the papers, Will pulls out his phone.

WILL: Headed in now to close on the house…should have the keys by 5. You guys want to come over and check it out?

FRANKIE: Yea, Pope and I can head over after I get out of work.

BENNY: Sweet, see you guys later. Bring beer!

“Goddamn, my fucking hand hurts,” Benny puts his pen down and massages his hand. “I didn’t realize we had to sign so much shit.”

“What did you think, we would sign one paper? We’re buying a house.” Will chuckles.

_________________________

The boys waited approximately one day before fully starting Operation Bachelor Pad, as Benny put it. Will continued to lean on Joel’s advice about what materials to buy and avoid and techniques to use. Joel even sent them a new set of power tools as a housewarming gift.

The sweltering weather made working outside on the yard a bit of a hassle, but one of Will’s first orders of business was to clean up the front so it wasn’t such an eyesore to the neighbors. Between the four of them, they were able to knock it out rather quickly. Will mowed the grass, while Frankie meticulously edged. Being the tallest of the group, Benny worked on pulling leaves out of the gutters with Santi’s help. They pulled weeds and removed a couple of dead shrubs. When they were all done, the boys sat in some folding chairs in the driveway drinking from their bottles of water.

“It’s so fucking hot out,” Frankie said as he took his hat off, wiped his forehead and combed his hair with his hand, before returning his hat to his head.

“How am I this sweaty?” Benny grunted as he peeled off his T-shirt, resting it on the back of his chair.

“What, you trying to give a show to all of the housewives?” Santiago teased him.

“Fuck off, it’s hot. If the pool wasn’t such a goddamn disaster I would jump in there,” Benny laughed.

Will looked up and saw Megan walking towards them holding a basket.

“Hey boys,” she smiled.

“Hey Megan,” Will got up, meeting her at the front of the driveway. “What’s this?”

“Where’s the corgi?” Benny yelled. Will turns around to glare at him. “Just kidding, hi Mrs. Megan!”

“Oh my god, Benjamin, please do not call me Mrs. It makes me feel old,” she chuckles. “Here, I wanted to bring something by, not sure how stocked your fridge is yet and I saw you had some friends over.” She nodded to the group behind Will.

Handing over the basket, Will sees she had arranged a few bottles of water and Gatorade, along with some homemade cookies and a gift card to a pizza place.

“Wow, thank you, this is so nice,” Will smiled. By this point, Benny had walked up to see what was in the basket too.

“Nice, this is awesome!” he said, pulling out one of the cookies and stuffing it in his mouth. He noticed Megan giving him a quick up and down, so he stood a little taller. “This is fucking amazing. Are you a cook or something?”

“Baker. And no, not professionally or anything. I just dabble.”

“Well, you can dabble with us anyti-” he chokes as Will hit him in the side of the stomach. “Shit. I, uh, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry,” he looked down bashfully.

“I know what you meant, all good,” she laughs. “Well, I should be heading out.”

“See ya later!” Benny waved, grabbing one more cookie from the basket before bouncing back towards the chair.

“So, are all of your neighbors hot?” Santiago asked with an arched eyebrow. “May need to move in here myself.”

“Fuck off, Pope. She’s nice. She’s actually one of the first people that has come by to say anything.”

________________

It was so fucking hot outside. Florida summers were no joke. As a result, the boys used the next few months to completely renovate the inside of the house. They installed new countertops in the kitchen, laid down hardwood floors, upgraded nearly every appliance or fixture in the place, and fixed the glass sliding door to the back porch. As the months went on, the house became a source of their collective pride and joy; they reveled in their handiwork.

Megan would come by every so often to say hi. She introduced the guys to a few other neighbors and it felt like they were starting to develop a home base. Even though Frankie and Santiago didn’t officially live there, they may as well because they were over all the time, even when Will and Benny were gone.

As the weather got cooler, by Florida standards, the boys decided to focus on the outside of the house.

One day as they were sitting around watching a football game on a lazy Sunday, Benny got up and headed out of the living room with a purpose.

“Where the fuck is he going?” Santiago looked over the couch to where Benny ran off to.

“Who knows, the kid has been really focused on something and I don’t know what it is,” Will said.

“Ok! I got it!” Benny ran back into the room with his notebook and a pencil in tow.

The other three looked at him with confused looks.

“I’ve been thinking about what to do with the yard, but I think I finally figured it out. This was the missing piece.” He quickly scribbled some things down and turned his notebook around.

“What are we supposed to be looking at Ben?” Will asked, confused and trying to read what Benny’s chicken scratch said.

“Ok, look,” Benny sat in the middle of the couch, Will and Frankie on either side and Santiago came over to sit on the back of the couch, looking over his shoulder.

“Let’s start in front. We need to replace the fence on both sides and put in a swing gate, that’s easy. I’m thinking we do some flower beds here in the front. I haven’t decided what kind of flowers yet. But leading from the front porch over to the fence we’ll put some flagstone pavers down. Yea, I think that’ll look nice. Oh, and a couple of planted pots here in the front,” he motioned to circles he drew on either side of the door.”

He keeps rambling as the other three look at each other, Benny oblivious to them.

“Oh and then on the left side of the house, I’m thinking some permeable pavers so that the water can drain, will help us not have standing water to avoid excess mosquitos and algae and shit. That side of the fence is bigger so we can easily get the lawn mower into the backyard that way and not fuck up the grass as much.”

Moving the paper closer, he points to the left side of the paper. “Ok, so once we get into the backyard, I think we line it with some raised flower beds. Near the pool, we’ll have some more perennials. We’ll add some more planted pots on the porch. Maybe some string lights or something.”

“And then this is what finally came together!” he smiled pointing to the back right of his drawing. “I think … wait for it … we build a gazebo thing.”

“Isn’t that called a pergola?” Santiago asked.

“Same shit. They’ll be a structure back there. With some shrubs up to the fence line. We can put a palm tree out there, some more flagstone pavers, and then we include a little water fountain in one of the perennial beds here.”

When he finished, he leaned back on the couch and exhaled, pleased with himself and excited that his idea finally came together.

“So that’s what you’ve been working on, huh?” Will smirked.

“Yea man, I … I don’t know. Ever since we came here for the first time I had this … vision. Like, I could see it, but I couldn’t. So I’ve been working on different designs.” Benny paged through his notebook showing numerous mockups of their backyard.

“Holy shit, Ben, that’s awesome,” Frankie looked over at Benny. “But what if you put a grass bed over here by the utilities.”

“Yea … yea, that could work Fish!”

_______________________

Over the next few weeks, Benny and Frankie continued to tinker with the design, sending Will and Santiago out on Home Depot runs to get things off their list.

As they did working on the interior of the house, they found themselves opening up to each other as they worked, finding that keeping their hands and bodies busy gave their minds time to process.

And they worked hard, completely rejuvenating the look of the house both from the inside and outside, so much so that the neighbors took notice.

Megan was the first to come over to ask if the guys could look at her lawn. Benny made a few easy suggestions, offering to fix it up on weekends. Then another neighbor and another neighbor. Before they knew it, the boys had worked on nearly every house on their block, which helped them get to know everyone.

One night as the boys were hanging out in the backyard, Benny came up with another idea.

"Ok, hear me out," as he opened the cooler to grab beers for everyone.

Frankie was by the grill and turned around to peer over at Benny. "What Benjamin? What job did you sign us up for now?" chuckling as he took a swig of the beer Benny handed him.

"Landscaping."

Cocking his head to the side, Santiago repeats back matter-of-factly, "Landscaping."

"Like what, do it professionally or something?" Frankie laughs.

Benny looks over at Will who was observing, taking it all in.

"Oh come on! Look at what we did with this place," gesturing around to the backyard.

They all had to admit they did a beautiful job with the backyard. It has been almost therapeutic for them, working on this house together.

“We’ve already been doing it! Megan’s lawn. Fish, you had a great idea for Melissa and Derek’s backyard, they fucking loved what you and Pope did with the place. We … we could do this for other people. Figure out how to make shit better.” He pulled his cap off, brushing his hair.

Although the other three had always seen Benny as the little brother, bouncing off the walls with energy, they had to admit he had a newfound focus when it came to the projects around the house. His brain was crawling with ideas. Plus, they were having fun working on projects for their neighbors. They had gotten very close to some of them.

"This could be a legit business for us. I even have a name I came up with. Wait for it…Delta Landscaping!" He beamed, clearly proud of himself and waiting for the guy's reaction.

Next Chapter

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first installment of this series! Seriously thank you to everyone who has sent me a message or a comment in the lead-up to this. I’ve had so much fun interacting with all of you and it has been a bright spot in my days for sure.

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list moving forward!!

#delta landscaping #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier au

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koshkamartell · 6 months

Text

No One But Me

masterlist

It was only two weeks after Joel had seduced you at his house for the first time. You were too blinded by the excitement and secrecy of it all, far too naive to recognise the foreboding tone in his voice or the intensity of his hawk like stare. You were already falling in love with him - it was impossible for you to have recognised the first sign of Joel's true nature spilling through his facade.

"Can you believe it?" You had asked Joel, your eyes shining brightly. "Kate's brother found this old sewing box on a scavenger mission yesterday. He knows I wear ribbons in my hair, so he gave me this."

You whirled around to show Joel the pale pink satin ribbon entwined in your braid.

"Isn't it beautiful?" You had asked. "And it's my favourite colour, too."

You couldn't see the way Joel glared, his mouth in a tight line and his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. His jaw ticked.

You had no inkling that Joel had actually been exercising great restraint of his emotions in that moment, although if you looked back now, it would have been clear. He was annoyed, irritated that another man would gift you anything, even something as small as a ribbon. It ignited a flame of jealousy in Joel's skull to see that someone else could make you so happy.

You twirled back around to face him. "Do you like it?"

Joel nodded. His eyes roamed over your face in contemplative silence before staring directly into your eyes.

"He ever try anythin' with you?" He had grunted.

Your brows creased and your lips quirked in amusement. "Matt? Kate's brother? No way."

Joel took a step closer to you and cupped the apple of your cheek in his large, calloused hand. You leaned into his touch and smiled contentedly at him.

"Take out your hair," he murmured, his eyes fixed on you.

"Huh? Why?"

"Like seein' your hair down," Joel said softly. He leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your forehead. "Looks real pretty, babydoll."

You lowered your eyes bashfully and obliged Joel's request. You reached behind you and pulled the hair tie from your braid, then unthreaded the pink ribbon from your locks. Joel stroked your cheek with his thumb and let out a satisfied hum.

"There ya go," Joel whispered. "Perfect."

When he kissed your lips with a deep and sensual yearning, the ribbon fell from your fingers and onto the kitchen floor.

******

Oscar was awakened by the sound of rain pelting against the roof of his home sometime around noon. He lay still, teetering between the dream world and consciousness, until the cloud of his dreams fully dissolved. The first thing he actively noticed when he was properly awake was the throbbing heaviness of his head.

Oh, God. What's going on? He wondered, brain muddy and limbs like lead. Am I hungover?

His eyes slowly flickered open. The pounding of history head and the lethargy inside his bones increased instantly. He shut them again tightly.

Yes, a hangover, alright. Fuck me.

Oscar groaned and lazily rolled off his stomach and onto his back, vaguely aware of the softness of his mattress underneath him, thankful that he atleast passed out somewhere comfortable.

He wasn't sure just how much he drank last night. He enjoyed a beer with the guys every once and a while but never got drunk, never crossed the limit of more than a couple drinks in one evening. Alcohol was never a vice Oscar indulged in. Judging by how sick his body felt right in this moment, he would have drank alot last night.

Joel had been the one coaxing Oscar into downing one drink after the other until he was just about falling off the bar stool. Oscar vaguely remembered staggering home sometime last night, Joel firmly gripping his bicep to ensure he wouldn't stumble. He wasn't sure exactly how he got inside the house and into his room.

But atleast Joel was right about one thing - being drunk had made Oscar's brain stop racing and replaying memories of the past over and over, even just for a few hours. The dreams of last night were not ones of screams or bloodshed but a blur of random scenarios all blending into one another. It almost made the hangover worth it. Almost.

He dared to open his bleary eyes again. His gaze wandered over to the small window opposite his bed and he watched the rain pouring down outside.

No library duty today, Oscar randomly thought.

He was grateful that he didn't have to work while nursing a hangover, partly because he didn't want you to see him this way. Oscar didn't want you to think he was a drunkard, a weak man who couldn't hold his liquor. He certainly wasn't an alcoholic - he didn't drink every day like some of the other men did. And he hadn't planned to get hammered last night, either. Oscar screwed his eyes shut and groaned again.

This fucking headache.

Oscar drew the blanket over his body and burrowed underneath it's warmth, where he eventually fell back to sleep.

******

Your body instinctively roused from sleep at your usual wake up time, unaided by the tinny clang of the alarm clock you forgot to set the night before. Your internal body clock had adjusted to this time after years of an established daily work routine in Jackson, and even after a fitful nights sleep, you were able to wake up around the same time every morning, sometimes only a minute before the alarm clock rang. You weren't necessarily an orderly person who relied on strict routine, but like many others in the town you found regularity helped instill some kind of purpose and stability in your life. It didn't matter if you weren't working every day of the week. Adhering to even a lose kind of structure and keeping yourself busy was key - this was something Maria and some of the older residents had taught you as you grew up in Jackson.

You yawned and scrubbed the sleep from your eyes. It took a few lazy seconds for your mind to properly wake up but when it did, the first coherent thought it conjured was Joel.

Joel.

Your eyes flew open and you bolted upright in your bed.

"Joel?" You spoke, voice rough from sleep.

Was he still here in your room?

Your head swung around in search of him dumbly, as if his hulking frame could be hiding somewhere in your small bedroom. But it was clear from the stillness and deflated energy of the room that he wasn't. There was no sign of him.

He was gone.

You couldn't help the pitiful way your heart sank inside your chest. Despite knowing just why Joel was absent from your bed this morning, you felt wretchedly alone. You felt used. Like you had been abandoned.

You swallowed thickly at the familiar pang of emptiness stabbing into your stomach.

Joel had to go. It was his duty, part of his role in Jackson to protect the town. You knew this. He would return once the mission was over, safe and sound.

Your hands smoothed over the empty expanse of the bedsheets where he had been, as if searching for evidence, some kind of memento proving his earlier presence. Instead you found nothing physical amidst the tangle of the sheets, only the lingering scent of his body, his musk.

You collapsed back onto the mattress with a thud and stared up at the ceiling, blinking away the tears that had begun to well in your eyes.

There had been many times during your time with Joel when he had left your bed before you awoke. Sometimes he snuck out of the cottage in the early morning hours because he had an early patrol. Sometimes it was because Ellie was home and he wanted to be there when she woke up. Whatever the reason for it, Joel's absence always hurt, tearing tiny pinpricks into the soft centre of your soul, leaving you with that ever present gnawing feeling of inadequacy in the root of your being. However, this morning that hurt was greatly exacerbated by the whirlwind of emotions Joel had evoked in you through his recent actions.

His behaviour and attitude over these last few days had left you dazed and disorientated. Joel had rejected you. It was he who refused to be in a proper relationship with you and to evolve into something more meaningful than sex. So why couldn't he let you go?

If he didn't want to give you what you wanted, why was he so obsessed with asserting ownership over you? Was it because Joel did care, did love you, somewhere deep down in his heart? Could it be why last night he showed you more tenderness than he ever had before?

You had so many questions to ask Joel but you knew even if you had the opportunity to ask them he would never answer you. Not sufficiently, not in the way you need them answered. He would probably just brush you off or argue with you or get mad again.

The intensity of his jealousy and rage haunted you. You still couldn't comprehend just how Joel had been so remorseless in his assault of you, how justified he felt in violating your body. The conviction burning in his eyes had scared you the most. Even now, the mere thought of his piercing stare made you want to shrink and hide away.

The juxtaposition of degradation and gentleness was profoundly confusing. The only thing that was clear was that Joel believed you belonged only to him. It made you feel as if you were an object that only he could manipulate at will. A plaything solely for him to fuck, to keep like a dirty secret, to desecrate.

You were ashamed that Joel had proven how weak you were. That despite his cruelty you would still love him. You would even open your legs for him and let him fuck you and make you cum like a pathetic slut. Perhaps that is all you were ever going to be - unworthy of love and only used as a fucktoy.

The convolution of it all made you want to sink your nails into your flesh and scream. You wanted so badly to go back to sleep and give yourself some kind of reprieve from the web of thoughts and emotions, but you had to get ready for work. You had to keep going.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rain hitting the roof of your cottage. You glanced at the window and saw the pounding torrent coming from the dull overcast morning sky outside. It brought with it a blanket of cold air that quickly enveloped the room and made your bare legs and arms shiver.

"Shit," you whispered with chattering teeth.

You hauled the blanket over your body and curled up underneath it, pulling your knees into your chest. You stared out the window and watched the droplets of rainwater slowly trickle down the windowpane.

You allowed yourself five more minutes under the comfort of your blanket before dragging yourself out of bed to begin your day.

******

The sky was cloaked in dark grey clouds and lent a subdued, melancholy quality to the atmosphere of the town that morning. You pulled the hoodie of your coat over your head as you began the walk to the small school building near the centre of town. It was still raining, albeit not as forcefully as it had been in the early morning. The ground was muddy and sludgy, making it necessary for you to wear your gumboots instead of your usual sneakers or boots.

The dreary weather reflected your mood aptly, you thought while you trudged on the path to school. With every step you took your pussy ached with discomfort, reminding you that Joel had been inside you and on-top of you only just last night. And despite washing your body thoroughly under the warm water of the shower this morning, you were sure you could still smell Joel under your fingernails, as if he had stained your skin.

You managed to teach your lesson at the school with some semblance of focus, despite the agonisingly slow ticking of the clock holding you captive. You willed yourself not to think of Joel and to just direct all your attention to the blackboard but it was impossible to do so for a prolonged period, especially when you overheard one of the children telling the others around him that a patrol had left this morning to scout for raiders.

"What are raiders exactly?" One student piped up.

"Bad guys who kill and steal!" The ringleader declared. "My uncle Troy is gonna use his rifle to hunt them away."

How did they know what was going on outside the safe walls of Jackson? You shouldn't be so surprised, you reminded yourself - children were curious and could be quite crafty, most likely acquiring information from spying on their elders or tiptoeing past adult conversations unnoticed.

"Children!" You reprimanded them sternly. You hoped they couldn't detect the slight strain in your voice. "That's enough. I don't want to hear any of you talking about anything other than entomology for the rest of the lesson. Got it?"

They nodded their agreement and were quiet and well behaved for the rest of the lesson. You loved the children and reveled in seeing their youthful faces become animated when learning something fun, when your patience was rewarded by their infectious smiles. The children were a consistent reminder of how precious life was and how important it was for you to help maintain the innocence of the children in the post outbreak world.

Despite your fondness for your students, you were deeply relieved when the school day finished and you could dismiss the children. When they cleared out of the room and left you alone at your desk, you savoured the silence and sighed a deep breath. You rubbed the sides of your temples with your fingertips and groaned. You were sitting on the edge of the chair, still avoiding direct contact with the healing skin of your buttocks.

It was only the first day of Joel's absence and you were struggling to keep yourself together.

"How am I going to do this?" You mumbled to yourself.

"Do what?" A voice spoke up, breaking through the silence of the room.

You gasped and turned towards the door. It was just Kate, watching you with a tilt to her head and a playful grin across her face. You sighed heavily and held your hand to your chest.

"Kate! Don't do that, you know I hate people sneaking up on me." You huffed.

Kate chuckled and strolled through the rows of desks with a drawstring bag slung over her shoulder. "Come on, you love it."

"You creep."

She pulled you in for a hug. "Come on, grouchy. You ready to head to my place?"

You hadn't forgotten the plans to meet at Kate's and work on Cassie's wedding gift. It was an old sewing box that was being restored and upholstered with satin lining, to be filled with some of Cassie's most cherished belongings. One of these items would be her deceased mother's bracelet, another would be a framed photograph, the only surviving picture of her family.

"Yeah, just let me tidy up my desk and lock up," you said.

You stood and picked up the chalk duster and started cleaning the blackboard. Kate stood at your desk and inspected the collection of papers and books sitting on-top of it.

"Bug Science?" Kate giggled, "Bet the kids love that shit."

"Yeah," you smiled to yourself. "Oscar found me one of the next installments so I can actually carry on with a proper lesson plan for once."

"Oooh, Oscar, huh?" Kate murmured. You recognised the teasing lilt of her voice, and when you whipped around to see her she was smirking and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes. "Can't two people just be friends?"

"Ofcourse," Kate smiled. "It's nice to see you being friends with a guy."

You frown. "What do you mean?"

Kate shrugged. "I swear you barely talk to any dude in town outside your cleaning shifts at the mess hall. You always seem nervous around them."

You look away from her; you suddenly feel conspicuous and full of shame. You remember the anger in Joel's eyes at seeing you with Oscar, the bitterness laced in his accusations when he interrogated you in your bedroom.

"We are just work friends," you mumble, sweeping the chalk duster over the blackboard.

"Yeah, I know," Kate grins at you. "I heard you. I'm just saying that it's good you're making new friends. Now, hurry up and let's get going. Rhi and Jess are gonna be at my house soon."

Once you were done tidying the classroom you gathered your belongings and left the school together with Kate. You did your best to repress the whirlwind of thoughts plaguing your mind, not wanting your friends to suspect that anything was wrong. It was hard to push thoughts and memories of Joel aside entirely, even with being in the company of your girlfriends and focused on a common task. You still enjoyed the evening and rejoiced with them when the sewing box gift for Cassie was completed. And even when dinner time came around and you didn't feel like eating at all, you still went with them to the mess hall, letting yourself bask in the comfort of their laughter and lighthearted conversation.

It was 9pm when you said goodnight to everyone and started the walk back to your home. It had stopped raining but a cold breeze ripped through the muddy streets, whipping at your cheeks and cutting through the layers of your clothes. You tugged your coat tighter around your waist and marched along. You couldn't help but think of Joel, wondering if he was warm enough out in the open tonight. Was he thinking of you at all?

He is probably far too occupied hunting down the raiders, you idiot, you cursed yourself. Is there's anyone he would be thinking of, it would be Ellie.

Shit, Ellie!

You hadn't even considered Ellie and how she was feeling. She must be worried sick about Joel. You immediately decided to go check up on her.

You crossed the street and slipped between two houses to cut through to the adjacent street. Their home was only another block away from where you were, and it only took another couple of minutes for you to get there. Steeling yourself against the wind, you trudged up to the small front steps and knocked your fist against the door.

It didn't take long for Ellie to swing the door wide open. Seeing the solemn expression on her face, her wide brown eyes filled with worry, made your heart crumble.

"Hey," she mumbled.

"Hey, El," you said gently. "I heard Joel went with some of the others for patrol. I just wanted to check on you, see how you were going."

Ellie shrugged and looked down, shuffling her feet awkwardly. "Okay, I guess."

You reached out and gave her upper arm a small squeeze. "I'm here for you anytime, alright? If you need someone to talk to."

Ellie nodded and looked back up at you. "He's been on these kinda missions before," she said. "He's old but he's still a tough motherfucker."

You smiled softly at her candor.

"I just miss him, you know?" Ellie sniffed.

You sighed. Me too, you wanted to say.

"Do you wanna come inside?" She asked.

You nodded and she ushered you through the door and into the warmth of the living room. It didn't feel awkward being in Joel's house again, even with him gone; you had spent enough time here to be familiar with the nooks and crannies of the interior, with the smells and sounds, even with the quirks of the noisy upstairs bathroom pipe and the squeaky spare bedroom door.

"I'm actually gonna go sleep over at Uncle Tommy's to keep Maria company," Ellie explained as she shut the door behind you. "Just gotta pack some stuff before I go over there."

"That's a good idea. I'm sure Joel would agree with that." You state evenly.

Ellie snorts. "He still makes me lock the fuckin' door whenever I leave the house. He'd be pissed if I stayed here alone."

You give a shrug of resignation. "He's always been that way about your safety. You know he's just being protective."

Ellie rolls her eyes. "Yeah yeah."

"Can I help you with packing?" You asked.

"Sure. I gotta get some shirts from the laundry, my tooth brush....," she thought aloud as she counted on her fingers. "Actually, can you go to Joel's room and get me one of his shirts?"

Your body went rigid at the mention of Joel's room. "What? His shirt? Why?"

"He said if I ever miss him I could sleep with one of his shirts," Ellie mumbled sheepishly. "Said it would make me feel better."

Oh. That made sense. If only you had the chance to do that, too.

You swallowed and nodded. "Which one do you want?"

Ellie scrunched up her nose and shrugged. "Doesn't matter." She turned around and grabbed some comic books that were sitting on the couch. "They're all the same anyways."

You were grateful that Ellie was so comfortable with you and trusted you, that she thought nothing of asking you to pick one of Joel's shirts out from his bedroom on her behalf. You made your way up the stairs and creeped to Joel's room. You'd been inside his house many times before, had been naked in his bed more times than you could count, but you still felt a twinge of thrill at venturing into his private space, alone and without anyone around.

The door was already wide open. You slunk into the darkness of Joel's room and fumbled for the light switch. The glow of the ceiling light illuminated the room. It was sparsely furnished with only a dark solid timber dresser and a matching bedframe and mattress. His bed was neatly made. The window was shut and the curtains were drawn closed. The scent of Joel - sandalwood and pine - filled your nostrils and wrapped around your heart like a warm caress.

You entered his closet and trailed your fingertips along the row of flannel sleeves that hung from the shirts on the coat hangers. There were several flannel shirts of dark greens and reds alongside a couple of jackets and long sleeve button up cotton shirts. The material felt so warm and soft under your touch. You selected a green flannel from the middle of the bunch and slipped it from its hanger. You had always liked Joel in the green ones.

You were about the leave the closet when something on the shelf above the shirts caught your eye. A sliver of something white. You frowned and stood up on your tiptoes to see what it was. You spied the edge of a small white shoebox peeking out from around a stack of jeans.

What could it be?

You glanced back over your shoulder to the door outside the closet.

Ellie was still downstairs.

Surely you could just have a little look, right?

You turned back to the box and chewed your bottom lip in deliberation.

You didn't want to invade Joel's privacy. You really didn't want to snoop. But the curiosity was gnawing at you.

Oh, fuck it.

You pushed up as tall as your tiptoes would allow and stretched your arm high above you to reach past the jeans and grab the corner of the box. You were able to just catch ahold of it.

Yes!

You nudged it toward you and pulled it off the shelf. Still holding Joel's shirt, you held the box in one hand and lifted the lid off with your other hand, your heart pounding in your chest.

When you opened it, you frowned at the contents before you.

There was a scrap of lacy white material. It took a moment for you to recognise that it was actually a pair of your underwear. An old Polaroid camera. An envelope stuffed with something. A pink ribbon. A gold necklace with a pendant. A folded piece of lined paper.

Oh. The pink ribbon.

The ribbon Kate's brother gave you.

You hadn't seen it for so long - you had thought it was lost, perhaps coming loose from your hair one day and disappearing forever.

What was it doing in this box? And why was your underwear in there, too?

You were about to sift through the rest of the items but the sound of Ellie's voice calling your name came floating up the stairs. It made you gasp and frantically slam the lid back on the box.

"Coming!" You yelled back.

You stumbled onto your tiptoes again and shoved the box back ontop of the shelf and scurried out of the closet.

Shit shit shit.

Ellie was still in the living room shovelling things into a duffel bag when you returned downstairs.

"Got it," you smiled, trying to appear casual and not at all flustered at the discovery you had just made.

"Thanks," Ellie accepted the flannel from you and packed it into the bag. "Ya know, I miss your banana bread. You haven't baked for ages."

You chuckled. "El, it's only been a couple weeks."

"Yeah, that's forever! And that last batch of cookies? They were so good, Joel practically inhaled his share." Ellie laughed.

You couldn't contain the smile that broke out on your lips. "Oh?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded. "So can you make more? Like really soon?"

"Sure," you smiled softly. "Hey, that gives me an idea. How about we bake something special for Joel when he comes back?"

"Yeah, okay." Ellie gave you a little grin. "Sounds good."

When Ellie finished packing you insisted on walking her over to Maria and Tommy's house to ensure she got there safely. You eventually returned home, your cheeks red from the cold wind, and rolled into bed without bothering to change your clothes. You were tired and just wanted to sleep.

******

You didn't know what to think about the secret box in Joel's closet. It was perplexing, and it made you feel slightly uneasy. You found yourself trying to rationalise what you discovered; perhaps he found the ribbon and was going to return it to you later, and maybe he kept your underwear as a harmless souvenir, a physical reminder of the intimate tie you two share. Maybe Joel was secretly sentimental.

You didn't allow yourself to really think about it in depth. Instead, you vowed to throw yourself in work at the school and library without dwelling too much on waiting for Joel to return.

The weather was still overcast and miserable the following day when you had the next library shift. Bundled in your coat you were about to open the library door when it swept back, opening wide to reveal Oscar already inside.

"Quick, come in," he urged. "It's terrible out there."

"Thanks," you said as you shuffled into the library.

Oscar shut the door behind you. He was wearing a navy blue turtle neck sweater with jeans. He had removed his shoes and left them by the door, and you saw his sock clad feet peaking out from under the cuff of his jeans. You smiled to yourself at the casual domesticity of it. You peered down at your own feet and groaned.

"Damn, my boots are all muddy! I'm sorry."

You gestured down at your shoes caked in mud and the dirty prints of your soles on the floor.

"No problem, I'll clean the floor later." Oscar waved a hand dismissively.

"Okay," you conceded quietly, feeling a little shy. You shrugged your arms out of your coat.

"Anyway, good morning to you." He tilted his head slightly, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "How are you today?"

You laughed a little. "Good morning to you, too. I'm alright. How are you?"

Oscar scratched his chin and then smoothed his beard with the tips of his fingers. "I'm alright, too. Just thinking about the next steps in our library makeover venture."

"Well, whatever you decide, I'll be here to help." You said as you squatted down and untied the laces of your boots.

"Couldn't do it without you, bookworm," Oscar grinned.

You and Oscar fell into an easy rhythm together, just like on your first shift. He continued painting the walls while you set about cleaning the library space from top to bottom.

Oscar had asked for you to eat lunch with him in the mess hall again but you adamantly refused, making some excuse about not wanting to leave the library. Undeterred, Oscar disappeared to the mess hall and returned balancing a serving tray with two serves of the lunch the cafeteria was serving that day. You laughed with surprise at his kind gesture, which made him grin even more. And from that day onward, whenever you worked at the library, Oscar would fetch lunch for you both and bring it back for you to eat together.

Over the next four weeks the friendship between you and Oscar progressively flourished. The hours you spent together on the library shifts were filled with discussions of extensive topics, ranging from philosophy to food, music and novels. As you got to know each other better, the more evident it was that there was a connection between you, a mutual respect and affection for each other. You had never felt such an affinity with someone before; an intellectual match with reciprocal emotions and ideas.

It was innocent. There was no hint of romance or sexuality in your interactions, none of the flirtatious kind of repartee you often saw your friends exchange with men at the Tipsy Bison. You weren't accustomed to close friendships with the opposite sex but the sincere nature of Oscar's friendship was comfortable. You valued him for his thoughtfulness and wit, his kindness and his humour. Oscar seemed to appreciate your thoughts and ideas, always asking for your opinion on things. It made you feel important, worthwhile, seen.

Sometimes townsfolk came to the library looking for books on a particular topic, and occasionally some of the children would stop in to read the small collection of picture books and comics the Jackson library possessed. They all complimented on how bright and clean the small building looked now.

The library had always been your sanctuary, and now with Oscar's company there, it felt like your second home. Seeing the results of your efforts gave you a sense of accomplishment and pride. You wished Maude could see it. When you verbalised this to Oscar, he suggested you both visit her after work together; and you did, much to her delight.

You didn't see each other outside your library duties. Oscar had returned to the stables for work duty on the days he wasn't at the library, and you were busy teaching the children. You found yourself wishing you could see Oscar to tell him about the funny things that happened during the day, or about some random fact you had learned while reading.

Gradually over the month, you noticed tiny changes within yourself. You were whistling more often. That you wanted to read more. Your appetite improved greatly and you actually felt hungry. You were able to look at your reflection in the mirror without instantly seeking out your flaws.

You still missed Joel. You still dreamed of his handsome face and his hands on your body, still craved the taste of his mouth and the saltiness of his skin. His absence had only made you crave him more, outweighing your sadness and hurt and compartmentalising it into the depths of your mind.

So when Ellie came running up to you one afternoon while you walked home, squealing that Joel and the patrol group had radioed that they were on their way home, you rejoiced.

You wanted to shower him with kisses and slide into his lap and fuck him, feel him inside you once again, show him how much you missed him.

Had he missed you, too?

taglist - @sofiparallel @harriedandharassed @kewwrites @romanarose @fan-fiction-floozy

#joel miller dark #joel miller x reader #dark! joel miller #joel miller dark fic #joelmiller #oscar isaac

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 months

Text

ugh but i mean

Having the worst crush on Josh Lyman

Going for a drink with him after work

Feeling all of the sparks fly

But you're not willing to get your hopes up, so when a staffer asks you out for the next day, you say yes

And you can only kinda stand this guy on a good day, but you say yes

Because you and Josh are just...Never gonna happen, not really. You're positive.

Sure, you went for that one drink, but it was a one-off

So you may as well go on this date

But good god is the evening awful

You commiserate with Donna the next morning, slouching against her desk

"It couldn't have been that bad."

"It was," You grouse.

"And you're sure it was a date?"

"He bought me a drink and talked down to me until I felt bad about myself. Where I come from, that's a date."

"Hm...Hey, Josh."

Donna's greeting makes you whirl around, and you spot Josh standing just a couple of feet away, looking stunned, and a bit ashen. And it takes him a moment, but—

"Donna, can you get me a transcript of, uh...Of Thompson's deposition yesterday?"

"Sure."

"Thanks." Josh's gaze flickers to you, and you find the look riddled with confusion, and hurt.

It wells up your nerves, and you find yourself clearing your throat and excusing yourself.

He gives you that look all day, any time the two of you are in the same room, when you pass one another in the hall and again, finally, when you stop to give Donna the hot tea that she hasn't had the chance to grab for herself.

But this time, he doesn't just leave it to a look.

"Can I talk to you?"

His question is soft, and plying, and he sounds a little...Flighty.

"Sure."

You follow him into his office, hands wringing as he shuts the door behind the two of you. Neither of you speak right away, but when he does—

"What did I say?"

Your brow furrows as your confusion grows, and you shake your head a little bit.

"...Excuse me?"

"What did I say that made you feel bad?"

Your mouth works wordlessly for a moment.

"Did you—Josh, did you hear my conversation with Donna?"

"Yes."

"Did you hear all of it?"

"I heard enough—What did I say?"

"Josh."

"Was it that crack I made about you reading chick lit? I was joking, you can read anything you want."

"Thanks for the permission—"

"Don't get me wrong, I do think that Danielle Steele is personally responsible for the wealth of romantic ideas and collective brain rot in the anti-feminist camp—"

"Josh—"

"Not that I'm calling you anti-feminist, obviously—"

"Obviously."

"Was it that? Or was it when I called the elaborate cocktail that you ordered 'girly'—"

"Josh!"

You raise your hands, cupping his face to still his staccato speculation.

He goes quiet, his warm eyes fully focused on you. God, you want to live in that look—but you have to clear this up first.

"I wasn't talking to Donna about you. I had a date last night and it was...Bad."

"...Last night."

"Yes."

"Not two nights ago."

"Correct."

"You weren't talking about me."

"That's what I said."

"Right."

"...Okay?"

"So you didn't feel bad about yourself when we went out."

Went out—it sounds so good coming from him.

"No," You confirm. "Quite the opposite."

You let your hands slip from Josh's face as you back toward the door.

"You worry too much, mister."

"Yeah...Hey."

"Yeah?"

"Don't go out with him again."

Your lips twitch with a nervous smile. "Wasn't gonna."

"Good. 'Cause you've got a better offer."

"I do?"

"Yeah."

"Who from?"

In the space of those two words, Josh closes the gap between you.

You're stunned as he leans in, as you feel his lips brush yours and see the gentle flutter of his lashes as he closes his eyes.

You curl your arms around his shoulders as your kisses deepen, and you can't help but sigh softly as Josh's hands smooth over your hips, steering you back against the door.

You slide one of your hands up, gently grasping at the curls at the nape of his neck.

Josh rests his forehead against yours as the kiss breaks.

"Life's too short to go out with people that make you feel bad, you know."

"You are very wise, Lyman."

"And smart."

"Yes."

"And devilishly handsome."

"I'm starting to feel like you don't need me here at all."

Josh's face lights up with a grin as he gives your hips a gentle squeeze.

"I do."

"Do you?"

"Mmm, badly."

"How long before Donna comes knocking?"

"I think we've got a little time."

You hum, nodding and leaning in to murmur against his lips:

"Better make good use of it."

Tag list: @massivecolorspygiant @winniethewife @winchestershiresauce @kmc1989 @brandyllyn @missredherring @amneris21 @blueeyesatnight @nominalnebula

#Josh Lyman x Reader #Josh Lyman x You #Josh Lyman/Reader #Josh Lyman/You #Josh Lyman imagine #not beta read #just something my brain spat out

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mara-tevith-solo · 11 months

Text

One Enchanted Evening

A part 2 that I couldn’t resist, my self-restraint said ‘lol nah’ so here we are

Pairing: Adam Warlock x ex-Avenger/Guardian! reader

Warnings: Loss of virginity, who are we kidding, it was a willing sacrifice, smut of the fluffiest order, they are in love your honor, please wrap it before you tap it

Rated: 18+

Words: 1.2k+

His hand on your hip was tight and demanding, his thumb pressing in just enough to make your nerves sing and anticipation burn in your belly. "We don't have to go further if you don't want to. I'll never push you." You vowed softly against his pulse point, not nipping or kissing his skin until he answered. It was one thing you'd always sworn to yourself, if you were ever in that particular situation.

"Please," He whined softly, bucking down into you in a desperate bid for friction "I need you, Y/n. Please, I've been fantasizing about this... about you." He admitted, making you pull away with a teasing grin, watching as his cheeks darkened, though he kept your gaze.

"Tell me what we do in your fantasies, Adam." Your words were a gentle request, but they might as well have been an order with how his pupils consumed his irises with desire.

He licked his lips nervously as the tips of his ears darkened "We... you touch me... your fingers wrapped around my cock like I do when I think about you in private." Words didn't sound like they were his best friends as you smiled, your fingers working at his belt and his pants, being purposefully slow to draw it out.

He was a moaning mess even before your hand made contact with his throbbing member, twitching as soon as your fingers brushed the weeping tip "You're so hard, Adam." You praised him with a soft moan as your fingers continued to explore his length. He closed his eyes with an appreciative shudder, moaning as he bucked into your hand "Does that feel good, sweetheart?" He nodded mutely, his eyes still closed from the pleasure. You pulled away, your hand leaving him wanting as his eyes flew open, begging you to touch him again "Gotta use your words, big guy."

"You feel so good, Y/n. Please touch me more, please." He begged quickly, every word heavy with desperation.

You did as he asked, making him moan loudly and drool more precum into your palm, making you gush with desire, your thighs pressed tightly together in a bid for that delicious friction "If you want, we can make it feel even better." Your words were slow and measured, testing the waters, still giving him that option to say that he wasn't interested in that just yet.

But his golden eyes were wide with anticipation and excitement as they burned into yours, begging you to tell him more, to answer every question that was whirling around his desire addled brain in a blur "Yes, please, Y/n. Please make it feel better." He begged eagerly before kissing your pulse point experimentally, tasting you, testing your reaction. He liked how you instantly arched into him with a breathy moan, how you pressed into him, how you tightened around him.

"You'll have to remove your pants, my love." You almost came as he bit down on your neck gently, your legs nearly braided together with need. He was peeling himself away from you faster than you could think, nearly tripping on his pants as he shucked them off as quickly as possible. It made you laugh, how adorable he was as he blushed with a soft chuckle "Sit down, love." You patted the seat next to you as you sat up, removing your own pants with a restraint you almost didn't have. Gold was nearly devoured as he stared at the flesh of your thighs, unhidden to him for the first time. He could have sworn he'd died and gone to some sort of heaven right then, you were so beautiful and perfect to him. If there was a god, he mused as he sat down where you'd asked, they had taken an eternity well spent to make you. As you climbed into his lap, he could swear his heart was near to bursting, both from nerves and adoration. "You alright, big guy?" You giggled down at him as you cupped his neck, your thumbs brushing his jawline.

He nodded with a gulp, licking his lips "I love you." He whispered into the space between you, just loud enough for you to hear.

Your beaming smile was everything to him, making his chest burn in all the best ways "I love you too, Adam." You said it like a vow, and he wholeheartedly believed that you meant it as one. Your legs straddled his thighs, making his cock ache and jump, desperate for your attention, desperate to explore the new heat between your legs. "Just remember to breathe." You giggled softly, biting your lip in anticipation as you gently guided your pussy down onto him. It took all of your concentration, maintaining a slow and steady pace, your pussy devouring his length all too eagerly because of its neediness.

His thighs quaked under you, his hands gripping your hips desperately as he fought to not cum right then and there. He decided, in that very moment, that being joined with you so intimately was true perfection. Utterly perfect. He couldn't contain the volume of his moan as he threw his head back against the couch, his eyes shut tight to restrain what was left of his self control. "Y/n... Y/n, gods you feel... you feel..."

You pressed a feather light kiss to his forehead as he became hilted in you, throbbing in time with your heartbeat as you moaned softly. He was bigger than anyone else you'd been with, in more ways than one, the stretch was oh so delicious. His head was already pressing against your cervix, and neither of you were even moving. "Ready?" You breathed, making his eyes open.

"For what?" The innocence of his question was almost too much for you.

You kissed him soundly, making sure that there was nothing left unsaid by the kiss "You're too cute." You murmured against his lips before slowly pulling yourself off of him, pulling a keening whine from him when only the head was left inside, before nearly dropping back down. His answering moan was nearly a shout as skin slapped against skin. Once, twice, thrice more you practically danced on his cock, your nerves making lights dance behind your lids, before he was suddenly gripping onto your thighs and moving you both so that you were on your back and he was pressed against your core, deeper than you'd ever fantasized. "Fuck! Adam!" You keened loudly as he instantly fucked you like a man possessed, pounding into you like his life depended on it. Your pussy squelched the most obscene noises around him, goading him on, your walls clinging to him for dear life. He came quickly with a roar, his expression screwed tight as it crashed over him, his thrusts uneven and shallow as he fucked every last drop of his cum deep into you.

"I'm sorry, you didn't--" He panted as he tried to reorient himself, the whole of his vision returning to him as the moments wore on.

You pulled him into a sweet, loving kiss, unable to stop smiling as his sank into it with a heartfelt sigh "Your first time is about you, sweetheart. I'm happy to not cum as long as you thoroughly enjoy yourself." His lips were back on yours as soon as you'd finished speaking, the realization that he loved you with his entire being not entirely surprising him. He'd be more than content if he could spend the rest of his life with you, he knew it in his bones.

#adam warlock x reader #adam warlock #he's such a sweetheart

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lilypadlys · 4 months

Text

Domestic December Day 29 - Power Outage

I started this one thinking, aww it's gonna be so cute. Ghoul cuddles as they keep each other warm. And then my brain was like, but what if we give Rain frostbite. Wouldn't that be fun? I’m sorry Rainy. (Don't worry he ends up being fine!)

Notes: Prompt list by comp-lady. See prompt list here

Ghoul popsicles below the cut or on AO3

Pop. There’s an audible fizzle as the power goes out. Dew stops mid guitar solo and glares at the overhead light of his room as if that would make it spring back to life. When to no avail it stays stubbornly dim, he sighs and puts his guitar away. No sense in practicing if he can’t see, much less the amp not working.

This was just perfect timing. A snowstorm was on the way and the power was out. The abbey doesn’t have the greatest insulation or central heating at the best of times. Dew can already feel the cold air seeping through gaps in stone to rob what little heat had been maintained.

Luckily, nearly every room meant for residence possesses a fireplace. Dew heads out into the hall knowing that soon he and the other fire ghouls will be tapped to set fires and make sure the abbey’s inhabitants don't freeze to death. He meets Aether in the hallway.

“Hey Dew. The power’s out and the fire places need-”

“Yeah, I’m on it.” Dew interrupts, not unkindly and more to speed things along. “Go find Alpha, Ifrit and Sunny and get them to help too.”

“Thanks Firefly.”

They part, the quintessence ghoul in search of the other fire ghouls as Dew makes his rounds to his packmate’s rooms to get their fireplaces running. Sunny has already gotten a magical fire set in Cumulus’ room and all the girls are curled up there. Dew gets fires going in his own room as well as Aether and Mountain’s. Along the way he finds Swiss in Aether’s room and Phantom and Mountain in the earth ghoul’s nest. He pokes his head in Rain’s room to drag the no doubt freezing water ghoul to his own bed but there’s no sign of him.

He doubles back to Mountain’s room.

“Have you guys seen Rain?”

Phantom shakes his head but Mountain’s eyes get huge.

“Shit.” He’s already leaping out of bed.

“Wha-no. He didn’t…” Dew doesn’t wait for an answer, already heading to the door. He mutters a trail of curses under his breath.

“What’s going on?” Phantom asks, still ensconced in blankets.

“That idiot decided to go swimming in the middle of a snowstorm and now the power is out.” Dew grumbles, tapping his foot impatiently as Mountain scrambles to put his jacket on and grab a warm blanket.

“Stay here.” Mountain points at Phantom. “We’ll be right back.”

Dew forgoes his jacket, just amplifying his body temperature instead, as he and the earth ghoul race outside and to the lake. The snow is already beginning to fall, collecting in rapidly growing drifts. Dew curses again and picks up the pace. About halfway to the dock they see a blurry figure, obscured by the whirling snow. When they get closer they both breath a sigh of relief when they recognize Rain’s twisted seaglass horns.

Rain stumbles forward hazily, hunched over as he walks into the wind. His arms wrapped tightly around himself as if to block out the cold. He’s shivering like a leaf and soaked to the bone, only clad in his sopping tee and swim shorts. His trail of footprints leading towards the lake are already being filled with snow. He makes no indication that he sees his rescuers.

Dew runs to him immediately, shouting. “You fucking idiot! What the Hell do you think you’re doing going for a swim in this weather?!” He yells, already wrapping the water ghoul in a warm embrace.

Rain looks up wearily, eyes having trouble focusing. “I-I’m s-sorry.” He manages despite his chattering teeth. He looks about ready to cry.

“We need to get him dried off so he doesn’t get frostbite.” Mountain says, already tugging down Rain’s shorts. When Rain weakly protests Mountain adds apologetically. “I’m sorry but these are soaked. They’re just going to make you feel colder.” Rain nods, letting Mountain pull them the rest of the way off, too weak to help much. Mountain helps him ditch his shirt as well.

Now freed of his wet clothing, Dew can see just how bad off Rain is. His face, hands, and feet are an angry red, bitten by the fierce cold and his shoulders shake with every shiver. His eyelids droop in a cold induced fatigue and he sways on his feet.

“Inside. Now!” Dew commands.

Mountain wraps the thick blanket around Rain to block some of the wind. Then he scoops up the trembling water ghoul and trudges his way back up the path. Dew brings up the rear, stepping in Mountain’s tracks rather than fighting to forge his own way through the quickly accumulating snow. The return trip to the abbey takes twice as long, now fighting the wind rather than moving with it.

Dew fights not to spew curses the whole way back. He wants to rage at the weather. Rain’s poor decision making skills. Himself. What if he hadn't noticed Rain was missing? What if Mountain hadn’t known where to look? What if…?

They finally make it back though. Dew runs ahead the last few yards to haul the door open and usher Mountain inside. Both ghouls sprint back to the pack’s den where Aether, with Phantom and Sunny in tow, is ready waiting with a lukewarm bath prepared in his tub. Mountain eases Rain into the tub murmuring apologies as the water hits Rain’s cold numb skin; the temperature difference jarring. Both Mountain and Aether begin to massage Rain’s hands and feet to help warm them and increase blood flow.

“What the fuck were you thinking?! You stupid fucking idiot! You could have gotten hurt. You could’ve d-” Dew chokes unable to vocalize the thought. He looks away.

Dew and Sunny gradually warm the water temperature. Slowly but surely the angry red becomes a soft pink as Rain warms up. He’s thankfully stopped shivering, no longer in danger of frostbite. Aether, Phantom, and Sunny retreat while Rain soaks, letting the other’s know he’s okay. Mountain excuses himself too to go make tea for Rain.

Now alone with the water ghoul, Dew breaks down.

“I’m so sorry Dew.” Rain looks down, eyes damp. “I didn’t realize it was going to snow and…Dew?”

Tracks of water leak down the fire ghoul’s face that can’t be attributed to the snow melting in his hair. Dew swallows a sniffle, face still downturned. “Don’t scare me like that.” He says much quieter. He can’t hide the way his voice wavers.

“I’m sorry.” Rain reaches for Dew’s hand and squeezes it. Dew squeezes back and doesn’t let go.

“You’re feeling better right?” Dew looks back, his grumpy facade slipping back into place.

“Uh huh, I'm fine now.” Rain assures.

“Never do that again.” Dew says it like a threat.

“I promise.” Rain squeaks. Rain leans over to nuzzle and plant a kiss to Dew’s forehead. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

Dew ruffles Rain’s hair with his free hand.

After a little while, Mountain returns. After making sure Rain has warmed up enough, Mountain scoops him up again and bundles him in a towel before bringing him to the common room, setting him directly in front of the fireplace.

Dew stokes the fire to life before curling up next to Rain, pulling him into his arms. He reaches for Rain’s hand again and they interlace their fingers. It’s Dew that squeezes first, three times in rapid succession. Rain returns the gesture. A silent, I love you.

Mountain gives Rain a mug of tea before retrieving the others. They all curl around Dew and Rain, doting over both of them. Mountain rubs Rain’s head and Aether presses himself to Dew’s back. Phantom, Swiss, and the ghoulettes wrap themselves around them, cocooning them in warmth. They all just lay in front of the fire for a while, enjoying each other’s soothing presence. They’re all thankful that their packmate is safe and sound and right where he belongs; in their arms.

#the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #nameless ghouls #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #mountain ghoul #dewdrop/rain #raindrop #slight angst #domestic december 2023 #lys writes

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hotluncheddie · 1 year

Text

stop being a goblin and let me kiss you

part 5

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

‘fucking steveeeee harrington. fucking i just like hearing you talk about it eddie. i like listening to you eddie. i’m actually amazing and perfect in every way eddie. no no don’t mind me i’ll just make your heart melt out of your ass with how sweet i am and then give you a boner like it’s nothing and then act like these are all none issues for you and you’ll live to see another day!’ eddie grumbles, kicking a rock into the dark recesses of the trailers underbelly.

he shoves his toe into the hole the rock left and glances back at steve’s idling car.

steve is looking somewhere distinctly below eddies eye-line, mouth a little slack. but when he notices eddie looking he perks up, waves like they haven't just spent the last four hours together, like eddie didn't just get out of his car.

fucking dork. you’ve fallen for a dork munson what is this? who are you?.. a fucking ex jock dork.. who listens… and is kind and hot.. and was just looking at your ass.

ugh. ugh!!

eddie stomps closer to the trailer.

the little angel version of himself appears on his shoulder. christ not this guy, always bad advice with this one. 'he likes you, you like him, what's the problem?' little angel eddies little white wings flutter, his little halo glints. eddie growls to himself, yeah what is the problem? maybe the problem is that it’s steve. it’s steve and we’re eddie and that just isn’t gonna fly!

thankfully the little devil version is on the other shoulder. now this is the guy he normally gets good advice from, stuff he can follow.

'the problem is that this is steve harrington'

exactly little devil eddie! 'exactly!'

'and he probably has a big dick and you do not know how to handle that.'

oh my god.

'oh my god' eddie mumbles, scrubbing and hand over his face, tugs at his hair. little devil eddie leans on his little pitchfork, making a very obscene hand and cheek gesture.

'better to big dick than not dick at all right?' angel eddie is not helping. not helping!! ‘plus it’s steve! we know steve! he’s nice!’

and eddie softens, arms slack at his side because yeah, steve is nice.

he thinks about how steve would come see him at the trailer all the time because he was always over at max’s helping. about how he really did mean it when eddie could rent on his employee account so they could watch together and save eddie the money. or how when eddie was in the hospital, all tubed up feeling like day old baloney, steve managed to pull a little smile out of wayne, asking him about eddie as a kid and who he’s rooting for in the series.

god, fucking, damn it!!

eddie takes a deep breath. rubs at his eyes so he sees the red goo of his brain.

…come on munson. we promised ourself. no more running.

whirling around eddie bounces on his toes, fist gripping the front of his tee. says a little too loud and a little strangled. ‘you don’t, uh, you don’t wanna come in for a bit do you?’

steve jumps, getting out the car and locking it quick, dipping to smooth his hair down in the side mirror before strolling over to eddie. he spins his keys around on one finger and follows eddie up the little stairs to the trailer door.

lifting one arm up to lean on the doorframe steve looks at eddie who is very interested in his shoes actually, could do with a clean soon.

‘this where the magic happens ed’s?’

that makes eddie look at him.

dumb, pretty boy.

eddie lifts his hand, flourishing it so it looks like he produced the door key from behind steve’s ear. ‘you were here two days ago steve.’

steve stands up straight, looking at the key in eddies hand. ‘how did u do that?’ he looks so serious eddie can’t help but snort.

‘cute.’ poking steve in the chest eddie opens the door, holding it open and sweeping his arm to let steve through first.

little angel eddie and devil eddie fly in front of his nose and high five. disappearing with a cartoon 'poof'.

eddie sighs. follows steve fucking Harrington inside.

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

part 1 (eddie) part 2 (steve) part 3 (eddie) part 4 (steve) part 6 (steve) part 7 (eddie)

(ty everyone who read this!! sorry that they won't be coming out consistently i am very much treating this as a fun thing to write when it comes to me so yeah. luv u mwah!)

#this was supposed to be the last one #but they only just made it inside lmao #whoops #they gotta keep flirting i think!!!#my silly goblins #<3 #steddie #steve x eddie #cocky steve harrington #virgin eddie munson #hotlunch #my fic #also might go crazy just keep writing eddie #who knows #i make the rules tho hehe #stop being a goblin and let me kiss you

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grey-sides · 10 months

Text

King of the River

Steve’s knees sunk onto the damp, hard floor of Tina’s kitchen. His broken heart forgotten when Nancy had walked out the front door with Jonathan Byers close at her heels.

He had been upset, sure, upset enough to down as much punch as Nancy had and more. But maybe it had been falling apart long before the party ever happened.

Maybe it never even got started when Barb went missing after the pool party with Tommy and Carol. Steve didn’t know when they stopped being on the same wavelength, but he found it easier to forget when his brain was clouded with alcohol.

Alcohol and the sight of Billy Hargrove across the room. He was drunk too, a nasty laugh in the air because Tommy H was trying to get his attention. Tommy was always trying to get Billy’s attention.

Steve smirked to himself where he swayed because he didn’t have to fight for Hargrove’s attention. He had it whether he wanted it or not. And he wanted it right now.

He got to his feet and dropped his punch cup on the counter, uncaring if it spilled or made a mess. Tina could deal with that later before her parents got home.

No, Steve needed to talk to Hargrove.

He licked his lips, weaving between the couples still dancing together. Across the house that wasn’t that big, but felt like an ocean of bodies between them.

His sunglasses were in the pocket of his blazer and Steve pulled them out for some courage. Or just to make Hargrove think that he was a bad ass.

“Harrington!” Hargrove drawled while Steve kept making his way over. He grinned, licking over his teeth as he looked at Steve.

“Saw your girlfriend run away with some other guy.”

Steve scoffed, even as his heart ached in his chest. “Not my girlfriend.”

“Tough luck, amigo. Plenty of other bitches in the sea,” Hargrove replied. He was swaying where he was leaning, but he took a bold step forward to get in Steve’s face.

“Broke your record, didn’t I?"

Steve’s eyes dropped to Hargrove’s lips and his beer breath for a moment. But he quickly dragged them back up to smirk.

“Guess you did. I’d offer a rematch, but I hear the keg is tapped,” Steve breathed.

Hargrove laughed and with a flick of his wrist, Tommy H and the other guy were gone. They were still in the middle of a party, but it sure felt like the two of them were alone on top of the world.

Steve licked his lips again and gestured to Hargrove’s chest. “Damn near wearing half the keg it looks like though.”

He was jealous of Hargrove’s chest, of course he was. He played sports and worked out, but he never looked like that. Could never quite get such a nice physique.

Hargrove set his jaw for a second, a moment until he practically grabbed Steve by the scruff of his neck and shoved him out into the yard.

They were alone in the yard, with the keg tapped out, most people had huddled inside for the blistering warmth of high schoolers. Or they were gone, off to fuck each other senseless.

Steve stumbled to a stop, managing to keep his feet under him, but only so. He whirled around, his sunglasses flying from the force of it.

“What did I do?” he demanded, whined really because Hargrove was being unnecessarily rough.

“Acted like you didn’t want my attention all night and now you’re what- trying to razz me?” Hargrove asked. He looked angry, angrier than Steve thought he had any right to be.

Steve waved his arm roughly through the air and he scoffed. “Don’t even why I bother,” he muttered. “Was trying to make conversation.”

Hargrove laughed darkly and shook his head. He reached out to grab Steve’s lapel and pulled him close. “Stupid conversation, Harrington. Yeah, I have beer on myself, get over it, fucking priss.”

“Hey!” Steve shoved back at Billy, his hand sliding across a sticky, sweaty pec. He made a face and tried to take a step back.

“You know, when other people used to overthrow kings, they would make an example out of them,” Hargrove said. Dangerous.

“It’s not real,” Steve muttered, shaking his head.

He licked his lips anyway though and had to ask himself why being talked to like this was making his dick interested. As interested as it could get when he was this drunk, of course.

Hargrove- Billy now, probably- grabbed his shoulder and started to put pressure on it. So Steve was forced to sink down.

“You got a problem with the beer on me?” Billy asked, voice low, deep, and dark.

Steve stared up at him, his mouth open because he didn’t think he could close it. “I-”

Billy nodded and gestured to himself. “Lick it up then.”

“What?'

“Lick. It. Up.” Billy grabbed his chin and pulled his face close. Until Steve was face to face with his tanned stomach.

He blinked a few times and looked up at Billy. “This is-”

“Come on, pretty boy,” Billy coaxed. “Lick it up and I’ll give you a handy in my pretty car.”

Steve felt conflicted, he knew this wasn’t a normal thing for guys to do. But nothing in his life had been normal since Barb went missing and the Demogorgon showed up.

He licked his lips and leaned in. Billy put a hand on the top of his head and Steve opened his mouth. He licked a stripe up the side of his abs.

Billy groaned above him, so Steve did it again. He let his eyes close. He focused on the sticky blandness of the beer. Of the tang of salt from Billy’s sweat. Thought about Billy’s spit mingled with it all.

Steve stuck his tongue in his belly button and swirled it around. He thought about the cold ground on his knees. He opened his eyes to look at Billy through the tops of them.

Billy met his eyes and moaned, pulling on Steve’s hair like he hadn’t spent half an hour on it earlier. It was to shit now anyway.

“There we go. Show me who the King is,” Billy drawled.

So Steve kept going until his eyelashes fluttered and he felt dizzy from licking at Billy like a lollipop.

He got lost there, on his knees in Tina’s yard while he cleaned Billy with just his tongue. His fingers eventually curled around Billy’s legs, the tips digging into the back of his knees.

Steve reduced himself to laps and moans, falling into Billy’s pelvis while he cleaned him up.

And when Billy tugged on his hair hard enough to make Steve stand up, he found he was hard. He hadn’t realized it was happening, but looking down- he saw that they both were.

Billy slung a friendly arm around Steve’s shoulders and steered him out of the yard, away from the party. Towards his pretty car.

“King of the River of Beer and Sweat,” Steve laughed and he couldn’t tell if Billy was laughing with him or at him.

But he felt pretty damn comfortable with the whole arrangement when they tumbled into the Camaro together.

And he felt even more comfortable when they exchanged hands in each other’s pants and mingled their saliva even further.

And he had no answers, but a head full of cotton and a mouth full of Billy and he let himself drift. Down the River of Beer and Sweat.

#harringrove #stranger things #greye writes #lets try this again

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someonexsomeone · 9 months

Text

Fragile

Title: Fragile

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Summary: The Triwizard Tournament is a stupid idea...until it brings George something he didn't know he was looking for.

Authors Note: Day 6!!! Wel...okay I know this didn't go up last week. I had to take a week off because, in true fanfic author fashion, my landlord sold the house I was living in and we needed to find living asap lest we go homeless. But!! We did it!! I haven't slept and I'm so stressed I cried when we got approved for a new house, so I wrote this as a reward for myself! I hope you guys like it! I plan to get the one for this week out tomorrow so next Thursday will be back on schedule!

Dumbledore had made many confusing choices throughout the years George went to school with him as the headmaster. Allowing teachers to pick on students was the first to come to mind, followed quickly by random last-minute points to change the winners of the house cup (Fred told him several times to let it go since they won, but there was something that always nagged George about it), but this year’s TwiWizard Tournament was, he had to admit, quickly climbing the list. His brothers never mentioned anything about it, and neither had their parents, so why suddenly bring back a death tournament when everything around them was already a reminder of the death awaiting them outside the castle walls?

“A way to bond us all together!” Dumbledore happily explained, a twinkle in his eye that George knew only from the same look Fred got when he thought he was doing something brilliant, and since Fred was typically a coin toss on whether was would be true or not, George wiggled his nose in distrust. “I want everyone to remember this is a friendly competition, no matter how serious it may get, so intermingling is highly recommended. Now, how about we give a warm welcome to the two new schools joining us this year!”

It was as full of bravado as George expected, each school expecting to out-perform the other with shows of magic and flips and who knows what else, with Hogwarts left to do nothing but a jovial karaoke of their school's anthem. And, who was George to deny the crowd the twin’s spectacular singing voices? The giggles from the people around them were expected, but some coming from the other two schools was a welcome surprise. George couldn’t help giving it that much more of a performance, just to please his adoring audience, eyeing some of the lovely students in pale blue as they huddled closer to hide their laughter from a disapproving headmistress.

Then came the announcement of how to apply to the tournament. Fred only needed to spare his twin a glance before they nodded, each imagining the large treasure at the top of the podium. After years of selling products, snatching things here and there from Snape and Sprout and pretty much salvaging anything from anyone, there was a lump sum hiding at the bottom of Fred’s trunk, hidden cleverly in a bag disguised as a dirty pair of underwear, that would help improve their operation tenfold, but this? This would do more than they would ever imagine. How many products would they be able to make? How many ingredients they could buy to refine plans they only dared to dream of? Dare say, even turn their production into something so much more than a traveling trunk of wonder? George hadn’t hoped to dream so boldly so quickly, but this would be worth so much more than they could make for the rest of their time in school! This brain was whirling with the plans they already made, and how quickly they could be made real. And then…heartbreak.

“It’s for your safety!” he heard Fudge say, though it was nearly incomprehensible over the shouting throughout the Grand Hall, the twins louder than anyone else. Outrage! They were near enough to the age restriction, and who was some new old wizard to come in and make these decisions for them? Thus, the scheming began.

Even though he believed Dumbledore to be a bigger ditz than not, he did know his magic was stronger and more refined than the average wizard. Alright, the above-average wizard. But this was worth so much more than a little scolding, and he had seen the hint of a smile on the headmaster's face whenever the twins were on the verge of getting in trouble for their pranks. He had a soft spot for troublemakers, Fred decided early on, and it allowed them to be bolder than they would have under a more watchful eye. Jokes on him, George concluded many years later, that his more lenient attitude made him and Fred nearly overly confident in their abilities, especially their abilities to get away with things that a normal person couldn’t even think of.

A mountain of ingredients was needed for an age-altering potion, even one as temporary as they were planning on making. Illegal? Maybe. But there were no laws against age-altering potions so long as they didn’t get in trouble while under its influence or force someone against their will to drink it. A short 5 minutes, and only a few months of aging? They had made pranks much more elaborate, and they had spent more than their fair share of time over a bubbling cauldron. All they needed was to get the ingredients and everything was as good as set, right?

Wrong.

The first few ingredients were the easiest. George, ever the good student, volunteered to help Professor Sprout water the plants the first years were studying. She was so frazzled, bless her, that she didn’t notice George take clippings from a select bunch of herbs on the opposite side of the greenhouse from where he was supposed to be. Fred was able to sneak a little here and there from their shared potions classroom, and they had just enough money saved up for an innocuous visit to the potion shop down in Hogsmeade. They had more than enough flasks and bottles saved up over the years to dry the needed things appropriately, and the house elves were more than happy to allow them use of a burner to bring everything to a rolling boil. Everything was set for the brewing, needing to happen on a waxing moon to ensure they wouldn’t age too much too quickly, but there was still one, tiny, pesky problem left…

“How in the bloody hell are we going to find a Lightsparrow’s Talon!” Fred was beyond frustrated, pacing the room in front of his brother. The two had commandeered their dorm room, their roommates besides Lee Jordan knowing well enough now that being around the twins while they planned would inevitably cause them to get caught in the crossfire, with papers strewn all around the room. Theories, replacements, and possible combinations filled each page, all with nearly illegible scribbles confirming their uselessness. “I should have just snuck into Snape’s cupboard during detention when I had the chance!”

“And risk trouble not even McGonnogal could talk you out of? You know he’s only locked down even more since someone else started stealing from him.” Fred huffed, finally plopping down on his bed. “Besides, we don’t even know if he has any. None of the upper-level classes are brewing potions with them, and the Matron doesn’t have any potions that require them.”

“So, what? We just give up?” George rolled his eyes. After years of failed experiments, Fred’s grouchy attitude was more than easy to ignore.

“You know that’s not what I’m saying. I just think we need to get a little more creative.”

“But we’ve tried everything! That stupid library never has anything we actually need.” George just chuckled, walking over to his brother to give him a playful pat on the shoulder.

“Why don’t I go take another look before we give up all hope?” Fred huffed again, crossing his arms and slumping his shoulders like a child. “I haven’t reached the end of the Herbology section yet, and we have enough Swindlebrine powder for another go before the final product.” Fred looked at his twin once, before huffing again. A quick flop, and he was more or less laying across his bed.

“...fine. But, after dinner, we formulate a plan to take a look around Snape’s cupboard just in case.”

“Deal.” They shared a smile, George patting Fred’s leg this time, before ducking out the door. The easiest way to deal with Fred, before food was served, was either to distract him with a problem or let him rest. Sleeping, George found, was always the easier option.

Since the new students infiltrated the school, every time of day was absolutely bustling with activity. Between the end of classes and dinner, most students preferred to hang out with friends, meaning the hallways were empty besides the random groups that walked to and fro their destinations, and teachers were either tucked away in their offices to grade work or in their private studies doing their personal projects. It was the time of day that Fred and George found it easiest to scout out prank spots, and sometimes got as lucky as setting up the bulk of it to finish after curfew. Now though? George had to spin his body in every direction to avoid the constant stream of people. His height allowed him an advantage of seeing over most heads, but it also meant people were able to get extremely close and bump into him without any warning. After years of getting away with pranking people in plain sight with the help of a crowd, he was more alert than ever.

Just up ahead, a group of Hogwarts students were loudly arguing with a group from Durmstrang. About what, George didn’t even want to know, but it was making it incredibly difficult to get past. With a huff, one that would impress even Fred, he slipped into a nearby hallway, not nearly as bad as the main corridor, but he didn’t waste much time before making a few more turns. The good part of sneaking out past curfew was the ability to explore every part of the castle without getting distracted. He and Fred nearly had the layout memorized, but the secret passages granted them much easier access. The way he was walking would take him the long way to the Library, but it was filled with empty hallways courtesy of the tens of abandoned classrooms. The further he walked, the fewer people he could see and hear around him, until he came to a pocket with absolutely no one. On either side, the roar of students was ongoing, but the reprieve did George a moment to breathe.

If this was your school, George thought bitterly, you wouldn’t be treating everything so disrespectfully. Honestly! Who even told them that wandering around the school was a good idea?

“I’ve already told you no, Dennel.” George stopped still. Just around the corner, he could hear the shuffle of feet, almost like they were walking in circles. Vaguely, he thought he recognized the voice, but no face came to mind immediately.

“My Darling, don’t you know that saying no now will do nothing to help you later?” That voice he did know. George groaned internally. The other bad part of all the new students was the absolute influx of activity in the classroom, namely from a group of Beauxbatons boys that thought it was so fun to flaunt their power and wealth and knowledge, even if they were wrong more often than not. It was almost like having the worst combination of Hermione and Draco, multiplied by 5. The leader of their stupid clique? Luc Dennel, a prat in every meaning of the word. “My Mother has already sent the robes. Do you want to break her heart?”

“That’s why I’m giving it back. You have no right to speak for me or dictate what I wear.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong.” George leaned around the corner, peaking out just far enough to witness the conversation. With a start, he recognized you immediately. Although you only shared a few classes, George remembered you were skilled in the subjects you did share, and even went as far as helping those around you in spite of their magical school. At one point, you had even helped with some of his wand movement. His hand tingled in reminder.

“Get your hands off of me.” Dennel had you cornered in the hallway, positioning you so your back was to the wall with little room for escape. In your white-knuckled hand was a bag, no doubt the robes his Mother supposedly sent you, but above that, Dannel had his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly there was no debate on whether it hurt or not.

“Just submit to me already.” Dennel’s words were honey, but his tone sent a shiver down George’s spine. Not from fear, no, but from disgust. “It will happen sooner than you think. Why not just do it now?”

You were shaking. George could see even from his vantage point that your legs were on the brink of giving out, the grip on the bag the only thing keeping you from collapsing. A troubling burn whirled in his chest, the unmistakable feeling of needing to help someone bubbling to the surface. He could hardly remember the last time he felt this, though vaguely the image of Ginny shivering against him when people were accusing her all throughout her First Year of being strange for being so protective of her journal. His hand gripped his wand fiercely. He could hardly watch the way Dennel’s hand raised to touch your face.

“Surely the product in your hair didn’t make you deaf, eh, Dennel?” George rounded the corner then. Both you and Dennel jumped, whipping your heads to look at the unknown spectator to your conversation. George watched your shoulders deflate, from relief or embarrassment he couldn’t tell. George didn’t even flinch at the glare Dennel sent him. “Don’t you know it’s not very polite to corner unsuspecting people in a corridor?”

“This is none of your business, Weasley.”

“Oh? Apologies, I wasn’t aware you owned the hallway.”

“No, but I do own them. So, butt out.” In a single moment, before George could even wave his wand, your fist collided with Dennel’s face, sending you both flying with the grip he still had on your arm. George rushed over, pulling you from the floor and away before Dennel could recover. Your glare was fierce, but George could feel your shaking now as your body was pressed against his.

“No one owns me,” you growled out, laughing the bag at the body on the floor. Dennel recoiled as George flinched. Sympathy pains in this case, he hated to admit, always existed man to man, no matter who they were. “Not even you.”

George hurriedly pulled you along the corridor, away from his original target of the Library, to a hidden corridor. He winced once as the magical door closed behind him, hoping that after escaping that disaster you wouldn’t mind being alone in another low-lit corridor with a man just for a few moments in order to get you to safety.

“I’m sorry, I know you probably don’t want to be in this enclosed space. Just through here, though, will take you to the courtyard. We’ll be out quick, promise.” He tried to gently guide you, mindful of the painful bruise he could see already forming around your wrist, but you only managed one step before your legs gave out. George joined you on the floor quickly. “Woah! Hey, are you okay?”

He hardly knew what to do when you burst into tears, your entire body quaking with your silent sobs. His arms hovered awkwardly, too afraid to touch you but too worried to give you space. All it took was a gentle pat on your back before you turned, throwing yourself into his arms, seeking any comfort you could.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” George could barely make out the whispers between your chattering teeth.

“Oh, no, you have nothing to apologize for,” he reassured quietly. He took another moment, before wrapping his arms entirely around you, squeezing as tightly as he could to his chest. His back was aching with the effort to keep you both upright, but he tried to focus instead on quietly murmuring affirming words to you, watching as the candlelight flickered across the dirt walls in order to keep his breath deep and calming. Who knew that having a little sister that was terrified of everything would make him an expert in handling people?

The two of you sat there until your breathing slowed to a gentle rhythm, your body almost completely still, and then some. George continued his work, moving from reassurances to mindless chatter, just filling the quiet room with something other than your stuttering gasps of air, not letting you go for a moment. He worried you fell asleep for a second, before you gingerly sat up, rubbing your red eyes to get rid of any cloudy vision.

“I don’t normally do that, I promise.” George let out a startled laugh at your admittance, breaking the gentle atmosphere. You gave him a weak smile.

“I always knew Dennel was an ass.” This time you laughed, offering your hand to help George off the floor. Without needing the words, you looked each other over, whipping a smudge of dirt and a fleck of dust to ensure you both were clean. Well, clean as you could be after proactively cuddling on the floor. Your cheeks flared when you came to the realization of what you must look like to an outsider. You met George’s eyes again when he reached over and gently pat your hair down.

“Thank you.” George just gave you a smile.

“It was no problem at all.”

“Even if it means Dennel is going to be an insufferable ass to you now?”

“He already was.” That made you laugh again. George realized he really liked making you laugh. “What’s his problem, anyway?” At this, your smile fell. George felt like kicking himself. There was an awkward beat of silence. “You don’t have to-”

“He wants my hand in marriage,” you said at the same time. That made George gape. “Well, he wants my family’s business in order to save his, so marriage is what he’s set on now.”

“But…but he’s a Seventh Year! And you’re a Fifth Year! That can’t be allowed.” You rolled your eyes.

“Weasley. Surely you know of the old pureblood traditions. Fifth Year is hardly too young to arrange a marriage.” George just continued to gape at you. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to marry him.”

“Good!” Even George winced at how loud that came out. “I mean, good. He’s a prick.”

“A massive one.” Your smile was back. “So, is there anything I can offer my knight in shining armor for the rescue?”

“Rescue?” George huffed, taken aback. “You hardly needed the help with an arm like that.”

“Yes, I will admit, the punch was all my doing.” George laughed. “But most people would just drop me off somewhere near people and hope I was okay. You’re a special breed, Weasely, to sit with someone on the floor of a dirty corridor while they went through hysterics.” You cut him off before he could rebuke. “So, anything I can help the King of Pranksters with? I am in your debt.”

“That is a dangerous thing to say to me, lovey.” George’s mischievous smirk sent a chill down your spine. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to raincheck that favor. Unless, of course, you could get me a Lightsparrow’s Talon,” George laughed.

Despite the obvious sarcasm in his voice, you still responded, “Would a liquid form work?” That stopped his humor immediately.

“What?”

“Would a liquid form work? It’s the only type I have on me.” You rummaged through your pocket, producing a small bottle of…something that glimmered lightly against the candlelight. George wondered if he was going to have a jaw ache from the way it kept falling open.

“Where did you get that?!” Even as you held it out to him, he was frozen solid.

“It’s not in its purest form, but you wouldn’t need it to be anyway if you’re making a potion. If you mix in some snail secretion it should become tacky again without compromising the effects.” When he still didn’t take it from you, you waved it gently. “Well? Will it work?”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“What? Oh, I brought it from home.” George gave you a funny look. “Liquid Lightsparrow Talon? Don’t you use it here as a cure for muscle and mental fatigue?”

“Lightsparrow Talon is extremely hard to get here!” It was your turn to look confused.

“The Talon is, yes. But if you gain their trust you can start a farm where they drop nearly all the time. The liquid form is a portion of the Talon ground down and liquified to make over a hundred doses per talon.”

“Is this common knowledge? How do you even know this?”

“The method is new, yes, but it’s been published hundreds of times over the years. The research team is based in France.” George smacked his hand against his forehead. Of course you would stop at E in the Herbology section, he thought miserably. If I had just continued for another row I would have answers for Fred by name. Your laugh pulled him from his thoughts.

“You’re pretty funny, you know that.” In a quick motion, you leaned over, tucking the bottle into his front pocket. His face flared red. “Let me know if you need anything else. The exit was this way, right…” Your voice trailed off as you made your way down the dirt path.

George felt his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

“Thank you, Dumbledore…”

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