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raribella · 3 months

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Love is Embarrassing | JJ Maybank

summary: although JJ had promised your brother he wouldn’t ever hurt you, you saw him kissing Kie while you were on a break.

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader

genre: emotionally heavy anst, fluff in the end

contains: reader being a real bitch, mentions of Luke and parental abuse, inspired by some songs in the album “GUTS” by Olivia Rodrigo, kinda shitty ending but let me know.

word count: 2,7k

author’s note: alright I know I’ve been MIA and a bitch and I haven’t posted anything in months (worse if you see how much stuff is on my “upcoming works” section), but I’ve just had a lot of ideas, little time and little confidence to write. one of my best friends just showed me obx and I’m in love with this blonde and I got (I think) a spoiler about him and Kie and I just had to do something with my feelings.

This is a work of fiction. I do not own the characters of Outer Banks nor any characteristic of the show. I am writing this story solely for my own entertainment and the marvel or comfort of any readers.

“If I fuck up with her that might as well be the last thing I do in my life, John B! I mean it!”

the words that JJ heatedly uttered to your twin brother the day he found out about the two of you were repeating over and over in your head right now. You remembered it all too well; John B was seething, absolutely pissed, seeing red. You and JJ Maybank knew each other for as long as he and your brother were best friends, when you turned 14, he declared to all the Pogues that you were off limits, and about two months ago, you and JJ started seeing each other. One month into it and JB discovered you, which was easy considering JJ already spent most of his time with both of you at the Chateau. JJ promised his best friend that he wouldn’t fuck up with you because two things mattered the most for him in this life; their friendship, and yourself.

But as of lately, he was having some problems with Luke and he asked for some time “out” so he could figure his shit out without involving or hurting you and you disagreed but you’d do pretty much anything in this world for this man so you decided to say yes.

To his bullshit.

Bullshit, you figured out about half an hour ago, when you heard a confusing conversation between him and Kiara – the perfect one – and when you went outside to track the noise, you saw them kissing.

You were fifteen minutes late to leave for the weekly kegger and you forced yourself to lock yourself in the bathroom and call in sick – because that you were, and you wouldn’t handle being out partying and pretending like seeing the kooks, and seeing them two wouldn’t make you feel the same type of nausea at this moment.

Sarah was the third person to try and make you get out of the bathroom. The first being your brother and the second, Pope. Although you were thankful neither JJ nor Kie had tried to talk to you, when you heard your best friend’s voice, you were actually starting to feel sick, you were having a migraine from holding tears up, and you were sweating.

“Y/n, come on! You were so excited to come not even an hour ago, we’re already late and I don’t see why wouldn’t you want to come”

Your vision was blurry as you palmed the door and laid your forehead on it. Sarah realized that you really weren’t coming when she heard your voice crack.

“Sarah please, just, go on out without me this one time, I need not to be there right now and I also need to be alone please don’t ask me questions I can’t handle to answer you this moment I promise-“

As you rambled, she frowned from the other side of the door. Making sure to get everyone to leave for the Kegger, to try and remember asking you about this later on, and to reassure John B that you were actually okay.

You’ve been successfully avoiding JJ for about two weeks now. It started with enough discretion, allegedly going to the bathroom every time he entered a room, or offering everyone any snacks you would spend too much time preparing in the kitchen. For him, it started getting obvious when you looked the other way when he looked at you at the beach, or when you refused to surf and, as of recently, started slamming the doors on him. JJ was getting pissed at this rate. He started by simply frowning and brushing it off, but you couldn’t just keep slamming doors and not even looking at him, and if everyone else noticed, they just wouldn’t budge! The worst part is that he didn’t know what had happened nor if he could fix it. You understood him when he told you he needed time to figure out some stuff with Luke, but the truth was he was still very much freaked out about that. He still loved you, and he couldn’t afford to see you like this anymore, especially when such behavior was being directed at him. JJ missed you. Even if he couldn’t really figure his shit out, he missed you screaming at the top of your lungs as you entered the sea, he missed your smile, your laidback grin that he was the only receiver of, he missed your colorful bikinis, and how they embraced your features as you would jump onto every wooden swing near the shore, your curly hair flying everywhere filled with salt spray. He just missed you, the real you. And he had to talk to you to see if there was even a chance that he could get you back.

You, on the other hand, kept avoiding the questioning looks the pogues would send you every time you were harsh or avoidant at JJ, your brother even attempted to talk to you, silently, just with glances, and figure out if his best friend had hurt you. But even if he did, it only hurt because you loved him too much, and you decided it was best to protect him from John B’s wrath. You felt embarrassed whenever Kiara questioned you with her eyes as well; you felt embarrassed to be near her. You kept crucifying yourself and both her and JJ because of everything, often zoning out of the conversation and just bitterly reminiscing about the times you consoled your boyfriend as he cried late at night in your room, being gentle with his bruises. – thinking how could you be so stupid? giving up everything, betting on him against your brother’s better judgment. You kept paying attention to Kie and how, since that day, she looked like the sweetest thing of the Cut, the fucking hell-side of the island. Her perfume lingered in the air even at the beach and made you feel sick; you saw her everywhere now, even when you looked at him. You saw the scene of them kissing. Feeling every word she would utter toward you in conversation like bullets on your skin. As it was torture how she was the greatest thing to ever exist – how everyone loved her, how she was so much better than you; poisoning everything that you do and still being the sweetest friend, making you despise how rotten your mind was; how jealous your eyes were.

You were bottled up to the brim.

It started out simple enough. JJ had noticed everyone was doing their own thing at the Chateau; John B was absent for the time being, and you were alone on the couch, fidgeting, focused on whatever. It seemed like the perfect window to try and have an actual conversation about what’s been happening. He just didn’t expect it all to escalate so quickly. He didn’t expect you to have seen a part of his conversation with Kiara about his dad – but not everything, not the ending. – He hadn’t expected a conversation with you of all people to become a bomb with a short fuse that would explode into feelings tainted crimson. watching you bleed, making him bleed all over for you.

"Pogues don't mack on pogues, y/n! this shit freaked me out, your brother finding out freaked me out, yeah, even if he’s my best friend and I was afraid that-”

“Oh, so you go ‘round and fucking get with Kiara?! this is fucking bullshit, JJ! bullshit-

“Y/n, listen to me!”

You both were screaming, Kie’s eyes went wide as she tried calling your name as well but you had already started crying and couldn’t pay attention to anyone but him. At this point, as John B arrived at the Chateau and followed the noise, the people around you calming you down couldn’t be sure if they were afraid of his arrival or actually relieved. You kept interrupting each other. JJ pulled his hair and you pointed at yourself and to your side – as if Kiara was still there – strength marking red fingertips above your chest.

“‘Cause she’s not even a real pogue, right?! that’s why you got so confident about it, huh?”

it was almost as if the room went silent. Kiara decided to step outside to give you space; to take a moment to breathe in and take notice that you didn’t mean that. She was sure you didn’t. The rest of the group started to move aside as well although they could obviously still hear the commotion. Only you, John B, and JJ were in the living room. Your brother grabbed your shoulders from behind trying to ground you in any way he could, JJ growing nervous at the rate of the conversation and his friend’s presence.

You looked into his eyes and it was as if the blue in them was slowly fading, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth twisted in a clearly upset frown. As tears stained your cheeks, pride still overpowering your shame and feelings pent up, you started with more meaningless empty jabs, which, said angrily enough, would only make JJ bleed more as he fell silent himself.

“I really loved you, you know? You gotta laugh at the stupidity.. right? Come on you were going around doing that shit and I swear JJ I used to think was really smart… I was just a mesmerizing, paralyzing, fucked-up little thrill for you, tho… best friend’s little twin… ridiculous.”

At that, John B diverted his attention toward his friend with stern questioning eyes. JJ gulped.

“Look, man I just really need to talk to her and explain myself, ‘aight? I didn’t do what- Things are really not what they seem right now and I need her to-“

“Fuck, JJ, that’s bullshit! How can you not even flinch when you fucking lie like that! Things are just like what they seem you never even fucking loved me! You can’t love anyone, ‘cause that would mean you had a heart, right? But you’re a fucking Maybank! And I really tried to help you out all this time but now I know that I can’t!”

You were calming down, but exploded again, as the words left your mouth though, you started regretting them, the most deeply someone could ever regret anything maybe, worsening by the second as you saw the man you still loved muttering a small “no”, cracking at your words and shedding a tear. As Kiara heard what you said from the outside, she didn’t even think before bursting into the house again, turning every head in her direction.

“Y/n you’re spiraling and you’re saying things you’ll fucking regret! I kissed him, alright?! This is my fault. He stopped me, he loves you and he wouldn’t do that, okay?”

Though the words she was muttering were calming you down, she was calling you out, she was absolutely mad at what you said about JJ’s father because she had context and it was really fucked up. You felt small.

“Kiss?!” John B asked, his eyebrows shooting up. It wasn’t his intention to aggravate the situation but it was his little sister involved. JJ tried to start talking and explain the situation – which Kiara had left him to, but he could really only think about one thing.

“I- uh… did you mean it? What you said.”

JJ rarely expressed any sign of vulnerability, so as his voice broke, you felt like your heart did too, rushing to explain yourself now, and trying to get closer to him.

“I didn’t mean it, J, I really didn’t! God, I don’t even know how you can still even look at me right now I’m so sorry I was just so fucking broken at the idea of you che- of losing you, and I- I thought you had found someone else and I damn near started world war III right now and it’s just because I love you so much and I know you don’t deserve another fucked up demonstration of love, you deserve to feel so good, Jay, and I’m really sorry, I love you so so much, and I will understand if you never-“

You were interrupted by the shock of his own body against yours. The both of you were panting, crying, completely tired sighs leaving each mouth as if this was all going on for days and you were so hurt, yet needing each other so much. John B and Kiara were ‘okay’ enough with the newfound situation to leave you both to your own devices again, and you just clung to one another, sitting on the floor for what felt like hours until he decided to speak again.

“Y/n… I asked for us to take some time because it was becoming too real, y’know? What we felt for each other.. it was, touchable- it is. And when everyone else found out, and then John B… You know I don’t talk about this usually, not with anyone but you, but I didn’t want my dad to find out about us, to find out about you. I don’t want him knowing what you are for me I don’t want him knowing that laying a single finger on you can be worse than any punch he could throw my way. And I wanted to figure this out without you knowing about it because you’d say it’s fine, and I-“

As your mind processes his words, you start to think how in the world you got a man whose the first concern about a monster of a father would be you. How could you deserve it, especially after what you had insinuated about him. “It is! It’s fine, honey, we can-“

“No, y/n it’s not fine because I don’t ever want you to even worry your pretty little head about a situation like that, y’know? And It’s not fine because the pogues are my family and the love I feel for you, if anything would happen to you because of him I’ll be damned, damned, and in jail for murder, you can trust me I will.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. All you could do was keep the hold you had on each other, slightly caressing his head.

“Since I didn’t want you to know about it, I went to Kie, that night of the Kegger, and she tried to help me and she said she loved me and I did too but then she kissed me and I assume it’s what you saw but I did step back, I promise! I told her off… Y/n I told your brother that if I intentionally hurt you, if I fucked up with you like this then that might as well be the last thing I did in my life and I mean it. I love you so much, little Routledge, and I’m all in now. We can figure shit out as we go but as long as we have each other, okay?”

As JJ spoke, he held your hands, reassuring you at the end. Hours had passed ever since you started talking, so when the pogues felt everything was calmer they decided to go back in the house slowly – figure out how you were, what were the plans for the night.

“Do you really forgive me for what I said? I will understand, J, I’m so, so sorry, I love you so much” You touched your forehead with his, and JJ sighed, shaking his head slightly. “I love you. I love you, y/n… can’t be without you.”

And as you both kissed each other as if you were making up for ages lost, Sarah smiled at the corner of the room, John B interrupting the show. “Come on with the PDA, love birds… What are we doing tonight, then?” He half-heartedly scolded as you got up, hand glued to the blonde's. You let out a big sigh again, before brushing them off with an honest, but half-assed excuse, already making the way to your room.

“I mean, you could go to Heyward’s… I think we’ll just lie down a bit.. ‘twas kinda draining…” you saw a bunch of side smiles as the group left through the door, Sarah grinned, letting out a puff of air through her nose, and when Pope went to close the door, he screamed back in the direction of your room, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” which earned a scream back from an already lying down JJ, “might as well not do anything!” and for the first time in a while, you laughed, making your way to lie on top of him, his embrace being all you needed.

“You know… we could go out to surf tomorrow,” he offered, still missing the sight of a happy you, your bikini, and the ocean.

“First thing in the morning.” You answered.

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silverflqmes · 4 months

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໒⦂ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒.

notes. reposted and edited from wp! happy holidays and merry christmas to those who celebrate!

genre. fluff + crack

ft. tooru oikawa, tetsuro kuroo, rintaro suna, shoyo hinata, kenji futakuchi, hajime iwaizumi, osamu miya

gender neutral! reader

➫ 𝓞𝗜𝗞𝗔𝗪𝗔 𝓣𝗢𝗢𝗥𝗨 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ HOT COCO HOT COCO HOT COCO

⌗ he loves to sit near the fire place with either you seated on his lap or just plopped up above him on the couch or beneath if you're more my style AHAHAHAHA

⌗ LOVES HALLMARK MOVIES i mean look at him, he would so watch them.. but he wouldn’t mind the classics like elf, christmas story ( my fav fr ), the home alone duology or national lampoon’s christmas vacation🫶

⌗ "I LOVE YOU I LOVE I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOUUUU Y/N-CHAAAAANNNN!!" — after watching elf and doing last minute christmas shopping going up the escalator ( he’s silly )

⌗ would totally play old jazzy christmas songs and pull you close to him, swaying gently in the kitchen or by the fireplace to the melody with the smell of balsam in the air❤️

⌗ you already know he would have lured you under the mistletoe too somehow🧎

⌗ "oh wow! i wonder how this got here!!🙀"

➫ 𝓚𝗨𝗥𝗢𝗢 𝓣𝗘𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗥𝗢 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ y'all woke up LATE on christmas day istg, but tetsuro hooked you up real nice with presents ykyk he made that bank af and worked those extra hours just for you<3

⌗ THE DECORATIONS ARE SO PRETTY ISTG WHO LET HIM HAVE THIS MUCH TASTE, WHO ALLOWED HIM TO SLAY THAT HARD

⌗ unlike kawa, kuroo took you for dinner and made a day out of it? he took you ice skating, out to see the lights and decorations, tossed a few snowballs at you to piss you off🧎

⌗ "come onnn, i promise i won't let you fall~"

⌗ it ends up snowing a bit later into the night on your way back home, so he gave you his scarf, long coat AND mittens.. hooked you up fr

⌗ except.. nothing fits aside from the scarf, but are you complaining? no🙄 although you did yell at him for it cuz he could get sick</3

⌗ he had an entire argument prepared as to why he wouldn't get sick and you could have sworn that he mentioned the periodic table somewhere🧍‍♂️spoiler alert- he gets sick the next day

➫ 𝓢𝗨𝗡𝗔 𝓡𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗢 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ ngl at first you were SO confused as to why suna didn't have a christmas tree in his living room, but one in his bedroom until christmas day..

⌗ Y'ALL DID NOT MOVE THE ENTIRE DAY

⌗ "rin, we gotta open the presents y'know.. and i kinna want breakfast.. we gotta get up at some point."

⌗ "the presents are under our tree over there by the dresser, just peek under and you'll see them. as for breakfast, kita-san’s coming over with everyone later. problem solved."

⌗ tbfh the laziest christmas you could ever imagine, but like you can’t complain, it was nice to just unwind a bit

⌗ he did keep the spirit of the holidays with a good bit of christmas movies, for sure the grinch who stole christmas ( it’s his favorite )

⌗ later on, true to his words, kita showed up around 7:30 with the rest of the team and y'all had sum good ass food and hot coco after reluctantly dragging suna out of bed to get ready🤲

➫ 𝓗𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗔 𝓢𝗛𝗢𝗬𝗢 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ boy are you in for it🧎

⌗ shoyo woke you up at four in the morning with natsu in tow, dragging your ass to the living room where the tree was filled with a wide arrangement of presents

⌗ you were still half asleep and since you were staying at shoyo's for the holidays — you uh.. weren't allowed to start opening gifts till seven LMAOO so you guys started guessing the presents instead; yk getting a feel of them

⌗ "WOAH THIS ONE'S SUPER BIG, I-IT COULD BE ANYTHING!"

⌗ "sho, the only thing it's gonna end up being is a wake up call to your mom and then you'll never know what it is."

⌗ tobio comes over later and y'all have a snowball fight together🥺

⌗ you and natsu won LMAOOOO poor lil birb was upset, but your kisses made things better for him❤️

➫ 𝓕𝗨𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗜 𝓚𝗘𝗡𝗝𝗜 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ ugh yes dateko's baddest bitch😩 another grinch enjoyer tbh

⌗ this man woke you up with a snowball to your face before shouting out merry christmas

⌗ although it was a cheap shot, getting you while VULNERABLE, you couldn't stay mad at him, as you loved this piece of shit so dearly😪

⌗ HOWEVER. that didn't mean you didn't get his ass back the minute he dropped his guard when you went outside to turn your christmas lights off for the day

⌗ "huh, so you think you can be a cheeky little shit with me on such a loving day? and get away with it?"

⌗ "and what? you don't hear me complaining, now do you kenji?”

⌗ in spite of being complete little shits to each other, you laughed it off after awhile and just spent your evening curled up together on your couch with a plate of sugar cookies that you both had baked the night before ( ofc you can guess there was a war of flour and baking tools then too )

➫ 𝓘𝗪𝗔𝗜𝗭𝗨𝗠𝗜 𝓗𝗔𝗝𝗜𝗠𝗘 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ y'all have the coziest christmas honestly

⌗ you and hajime don't wake up too early or too late; it's just the right time and you're both completely prepared for all that's to come for the day

⌗ the two of you start off with unwrapping presents, then iwaizumi makes you the BEST breakfast ever istg, TELL ME HE DOESN'T COOK RN IF YOU WANNA GET TUSSLED

⌗ ngl tooru taught him some good shit when it came to making hot coco and you swore you were just about ready to tap into heaven at that immaculate taste

⌗ "oh my gosh, haji, what did you put in this, it's so.. it's better than amazing!"

⌗ "while i want tell you, i'm ‘sworn to secrecy’, his words not mine, by that fool oikawa with his secret recipe bullshit." he can’t lie though, whatever tf tooru invented was otherworldly..

⌗ not even an hour later you found it on starbucks' secret menu app and you showed it to your boyfriend who flipped his shit before sprinting over to his friend’: house with two snowballs in hand ( with hard snow.. praying for my man to dodge more than ever ); the outcome.. wasn't the prettiest😔

➫ 𝓜𝗜𝗬𝗔 𝓞𝗦𝗔𝗠𝗨 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ FOOD FOOD FOOD FOOD did i say food? yes, food.

⌗ all you two did that whole entire day was EAT?? NOT EVEN THAT BUT YOU HAD A WHOLE CHRISTMAS EVE DINNER TOO THE NIGHT BEFORE HXJSKSKS OSAMU DOES NOT PLAY GAMES WHEN IT COMES TO CHRISTMAS

⌗ atsumu invites himself over as usual and there's chaos in the kitchen of course..

⌗ "OUTTA THE WAY 'SAMU, I WANNA DECORATE COOKIES TOO!!"

⌗ "if you don't quit whinin' right now 'tsumu, i'm gonna beat yer ass and toss ya out in the snow."

⌗ bantering aside, the cookies were super pretty?? they tasted heavenly too, cookies from scratch go hard and whatever recipe those two were taught.. yum

⌗ osamu had nonalcoholic eggnog prepared for you and him to have after atsumu went home and the two of you exchanged the presents you had for one another before cuddling near the tree and fireplace for the night<3

notes. forgot to repost this before with the other reposts but it was kinda out of season.. so i waited for the holidays to blow in to fixed them up a bit and post them on here. furthermore, super sorry for the lack of activity, been working on my og wip as of late and my longer fics on wp :’) hope you understand</3

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katyawriteswhump · 3 months

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the power of love pt 4 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part one Part two Part three Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part Nine Part Ten Part 11 Part 12

Chapter Four

Steve POV

1978

Steve carves his way across Lover’s Lake with an energetic front crawl. Okay, he’s got to admit—it’s a bit bigger than he judged.

He’s getting tired, though he can still make it. After all, he’s eleven years old, and the best swimmer in his grade. He reckons he could beat half the kids in the High School swim squad. What’s a puny lake to Steve Harrington?

The waters grow thick and deadly heavy. Soon, his arms flounder and his legs splash uselessly. He glances up to figure how far the bank is, mistimes his stroke, gulps a mouthful of water.

He chokes, swallows, discovers he’s no clue in which direction he should go. He swipes wet hair from his eyes and realizes he can’t see his parents. Can’t see anybody. Yeah, he’d deliberately swum off to prove his father wrong, because he’d said Steve couldn’t cross the lake, but… Oh crap!

He sinks, pulls upward with all he’s got left, and bursts through the surface, screaming: “Dad! Mom! Dad? I’m… lost… Heeeelp!” His legs have gone weak, and he doesn’t know what to do with his arms, whether to wave them or try to swim or… “Mommy? Da-ad? Daddy!”

His final efforts fail, and the dark waters suck him deep, closing seamlessly above his head.

1986

The scary dreams fade to nothingness, and Steve begins to wake. His head aches, and his bat bites manage to throb, itch and burn all at once. He opens his eyes, with a weary sense of having been through all this before, far too many times.

However, he isn’t in his parents’ living room, which is the last thing he remembers. He’s not a clue where he is. It looks like some dingy log cabin, and a stale tobacco stench catches in his throat. Robin’s nowhere to be seen, which alarms him further. Eddie paces the creaking floor, flexing and cracking his fingers.

“Eddie?”

Eddie’s hand flies to his chest. Then that electric smile that Steve’s getting way too fond of returns: “Hey, big boy. How ya doing?”

“Oh, never better.” Steve coughs. He doesn’t even try to rise from the lumpy old camp bed he’s lying on. “My body feels like goddamn heavy metal… and, uh, not the sort you dig.”

“Seen bodies I like less, Harrington.” Eddie smirks then cringes; Steve’s not gotten a clue how to read that. “Look, you've been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours.” He grabs a bottle of water. “You have to drink. Or we’re gonna have to get you to a doctor, and Buckley’s gonna ride my ass.”

“I’ll give it a shot.” Trouble is, Steve knows that Eddie will have to help, and it’s dead awkward. He does his best to sit, while Eddie plumps the pillows and helps support him. Eddie’s hair gets everywhere, way worse than Steve’s. Then Steve’s hand trembles so bad, Eddie has to guide the bottle to his lips. Even then, half the water dribbles down Steve’s chin, and it barely wets his parched lips. After a couple of slurps, his stomach performs an unpleasant flip. “Had enough, man.”

“Ooookay. We’ll try again later, huh?”

“Yeah, if you want me to vomit all over your… Hey, is that my Hugo Boss t-shirt?”

“Don’t worry, Harrington. It’ll look waaay better when I daub it with the sacred Hellfire Club logo.”

Steve’s beyond caring about that kinda stuff. What he really wants to say, but won’t, is that it looks great on Eddie. The short sleeves afford sizzling glimpses of Eddie’s tats.

Christ, get over it, Harrington.

He concentrates on what Eddie is telling him. Turns out, the three of them have escaped Hawkins, though not travelled far: “We’re in a deserted cabin, about twenty miles out. Robin can cycle back and get into radio contact with Dustin and the others, which is where she is now. They can sort out supplies, give us updates. It’s still total chaos in town, which has bought us time.”

“You need to keep moving, man,” murmurs Steve. “I know I said don’t go without me, but… Jesus, I’m slowing you down.”

Eddie gives a casual shrug. “Nah. We can wait for ya, Stevie.”

Stevie?!?

Steve snorts with laughter, then he sinks again fast. He’s so stupidly tired. God knows how long passes before Robin’s voice revives him. “Steve? Steve! Try to wake up. Please?”

He does. For her. His eyes are watery, and it takes a moment to focus. Then he sees her eyes are watery, pink-ish too. “Rob? W-What’s wrong?”

“Thank God, you’re back.” She leans close, attempts a clumsy approximation of a hug. When she pulls away, she unleashes way too many words for him to cope with. Dustin has updated her on tons. Max is hurt, and it’s really bad, and then she talks about Hopper.

Hopper’s alive?

Steve raises a shaky hand to veil his eyes. “Hey, slow down. Max is gonna be okay, right?”

He peeps between his fingers. The look that passes between Robin and Eddie all but chokes him. He disguises a sniffle beneath another cough.

“Hop’s coming back, and that’s good news, right?” says Robin. “Maybe he can get you two off the hook. Although, right now, I believe we’re among the missing, presumed dead. Yay?” She underlines her false cheer with a tremulous smile. That’s when Steve notices the baggy yellow top she’s wearing:

“Hey, that top is mine! You’re both wearing my clothes?”

Eddie leans coolly against the wall. “Badge of ownership, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asks Steve. “Who owns whose ass?”

Eddie grins and… was that a twitch of his eyelid or a wink?!? Either way, it dizzies Steve. “Whichever way round you want, baby,” says Eddie.

“Ooookay.” Robin giggles, sounding as jittery as Steve feels. “Uh, Steve. We should probably check your bandages.”

He’s genuinely relieved when Eddie wanders off. He lifts his t-shirt and hisses as she pries the dressing from his scabbed blood. “Is it bad?”

“You’re not all stinky and septic, nor leaking Upside Down black goop, so… No, I’d say good. Does it hurt much?”

“Not as bad as it did.”

“You still seem a bit fever-y.” She gingerly drifts the back of her hand across his brow. “Not so gross and sticky as you were, though.”

“Lucky for you,” he snarks. He actually finds feeling so sick and weak far more intolerable than the pain. It reminds him of when he travelled with his parents, when he was much younger. And when he always got sick. A splash of ice bites deep. “Ow!”

Robin assaults him with an antiseptic spray. “Sorry!”

“Don’t go into medicine, Rob.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Uh, Steve. One question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why did you ask us to leave town via Lover’s Lake?”

“Wha—” Steve blinks. His brain strains to retrieve whatever the hell she’s talking about and draws a blank. “I have zero memory of saying that. I mean, why the heck would I?”

“Oookay. You were probably raving.” That nervous laugh returns. “You sure you’re sure you’ve no idea?”

He blinks at her again. He really hasn’t.

He’s always loved swimming in Lover’s Lake. Then again, he likes swimming pretty much everywhere, particularly in open water. It gives him a rush, a sense of control that’s proven so difficult to grasp in pretty much every other area of his life. Okay, there was that one time he nearly drowned in Lover's Lake as a kid. Even that didn’t put him off for long. In fact, it fired him to get stronger, better, to learn lifesaving and CPR.

Robin’s brows are raised, as if she expects some bombshell revelation. “What do you want me to say?” he answers. “I haven’t a goddamn clue.”

She lets it drop. He fears he hasn’t heard the last of whatever’s bugging her. Perhaps, despite her protestations otherwise, she’s still fretting about rabies. “Hey, Eddie,” she yells, “stop skulking and come and help, will you?”

Robin and Eddie finish patching him up, and Steve struggles not to whimper like a candy-ass wuss. Then, as he feels too crappy to sleep, his mood plummets even lower. He can’t stop thinking about Max, and how he’d failed to save her. Maybe if he’d been there, he could’ve found a way, like he did when he saved Eddie?

That he was otherwise occupied feels like an excuse. He should’ve protected the kids better, and… Ugh, he detests being THIS DAMN PATHETIC, a total wimpezoid. He despises being seen like this, even by Robin, and she’s seen him brought low before, when they were captured by the Soviets. Plus, she’s his best friend. Steve Harrington is the big guy, the protector. Without that…

…I’m nothing. Eddie Munson’s gonna see that pretty quick. Uh… Why the Hell should I care so much about that?

His miserable thoughts drain him. He tries curling onto his good side, just as Robin comes at him with a bowl of cereal. “Get lost,” he mutters, and finally drifts back to a sick-feeling sleep.

Later, when he awakes, the fuss remains excruciating. Eddie props him up on more pillows and tucks up the blankets. Robin menaces him with the cereal again, and this time, he chokes down a few mouthfuls. Eddie checks Steve’s wounds, and wipes him down with a cloth, dabbing his scarred torso, hands and face.

Steve refuses to look Eddie in the eye, and chews his lip ragged. He waits till Robin goes outside then asks the question that is literally gonna kill him: “Eddie, I need the bathroom.”

“Oh.” Eddie palpably tenses. “Uh, pretty sure I saw a bucket somewhere.”

Steve groans. “Isn’t there plumbing inside this dump?”

“Noooot as such. There’s literally a brick shithouse outside. Reckon you can make it?”

“Sure,” says Steve, trying to sound casual rather than terrified he’s absolutely not gonna make it.

He manages to sit, and then Eddie helps him to his feet. They start off, with Steve leaning heavily against Eddie. To be fair, it goes better than expected. Steve’s dizzy and slightly nauseous, but the cereal stays down. While his legs are basically jello, they don’t give out completely.

Not until the way back, at any rate.

One of his knees buckles beneath his weight, and he flops into Eddie. He winds up clinging around Eddie’s neck, one foot sliding as if on ice, and staring up into Eddie’s dark, soulful eyes. Losing himself in them, like they’d drugged him or something; even giggling, and wondering fleetingly if that fizzle of attraction might still be real, despite his wretched state.

“I gotcha, Stevie.”

Stevie… again?

The pulsing veins on Eddie’s face betray his strain in keeping Steve from falling. He’s also wearing a faintly amused smile, which touches Steve somewhere tender and deep.

But Eddie’s laughing at him, not with him, right? “Bet I’m hilarious,” mumbles Steve. “I guess with no TV you get your kicks where you can.”

“I don’t watch much TV,” says Eddie, placid enough. “Sure miss my Ghetto Blaster.”

“There was one in my room. If you were dumb enough not to bag it, that’s your loss.”

While bitching, Steve finds his footing again. Eddie helps him back toward the camp bed. When, finally, Steve’s butt lands heavily on it, he’s still hugging around Eddie’s neck, so he tugs Eddie down with him. He slithers his arms free and shivers. He actually wishes he could keep clinging rather than go back to lying alone, feeling horrible. Christ, he’s hopeless.

He rolls to face the wall. Eddie pokes him. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” snaps Steve, the heat of his temper warming him. “I made it to the outhouse and back, didn’t I? If you two morons quit stalling, we can get moving again right away.”

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part Ten Part Twelve

...

tags: estrellami1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

#steddie #steve harrington whump #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #stobin fic #platonic stobin #stobin friendship #steve and robin #steve harrington x eddie munson #stobin #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington hurt/comfort

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

Text

A Recipe for Disaster (Chap. 2)

Pt. 1 | On AO3 here

“Alrighty, Good Morning your highness!” Murray greets him (loudly) the next morning.

“Good morning Murray,” Steve grins at him and mutes the morning talk show that he’d lazily clicked on once Robin fully kicked him awake that morning.

“Her majesty will meet you in the throne room in an hour. She’s in with Parliament.” He reads from his schedule “And I’m sorry your suite isn’t ready yet, but you’re welcome to stay here until it is.” He gestured around to Robin’s suite (“I get my own suite?? You’re kidding me right??” Robin had directed at Joyce when they’d first arrived), Steve having been staying with Robin in the meantime.

“No worries, I was planning on just exploring the palace a bit today; Robin is all partied out and won’t be up for another,” Steve looks at his wrist, devoid of his normal watch, “half a day or so.”

Murray grins at him, “Sounds good to me, be careful, and if you need anything just let Hopper know alright?” Murray turns and heads back out of the suite, “The throne room in an hour!” He yells back over his shoulder as he makes his escape.

Once he was gone, Steve pulled on his collegiate “Beserkely” hoodie (this one being the one that matches the one he’d had made and given Robin after the college denied both their applications), grabbed his phone, and headed out down the hall.

He didn’t have a path in mind, but he ended up in the kitchens first.

‘Nice, I’ll have to remember how to get down here for later.’ He thought to himself.

Rounding a bank of industrial size refrigerators, he found a young girl with fiery red hair standing at the prep table in the middle of the floor, chopping and mincing the vegetables in front of her with alarming speed.

His shoe squeaking on the tile alerted her to his presence and she looked up at him with a scowl before schooling her face back to neutral/confused once she realized who he was.

“Your highness? What are you doing down here? Did you need something?” She sounded concerned, setting down her knife and turning to face him with her hands clasped in front of her, a sign of respect.

“No! No, please, it’s just Steve.” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “I was just wandering around, you know? Trying to find all the nooks and crannies of this place.” He smiled at the girl, hoping to placate her to his presence.

“Oh. Okay, well your hi_Steve_” the girl corrected herself with an eye roll at the raised brow he threw her way “We are kind of empty at the moment since we just got done with breakfast, but if you ever need anything, let myself or our head chef Argyle know.” She picked the knife back up and started back on demolishing a concerningly large pile of onions.

“Sure, thanks…..?” Steve trailed off, hoping his tone would come across as him asking for her name.

Another eye roll, and then “Max. You can call me Max.”

“Thanks, Max, I’ll be down here a lot I think.” He smiled warmly at her and stuck out his hand for her to shake.

She looked at it for a split second and said “I probably shouldn’t, you don’t really want your hand to smell like onion all day do you?”

“Ah, right, nope, definitely don’t.” He again looked at the pile of onions in front of her and wiped his (still clean) hand on his sweater as if he could feel the onion residue coating it. "How about an air-five?” He asked instead, grinning cheesily, and lifting his hand like he was going to high five her from where he was about 6ft away.

He was rewarded with another eye roll, a small smile, and a crisp air-five for his troubles before he headed back out the way he’d come.

A couple corners later, Steve found himself walking down a large corridor that seemed to be leading to nowhere. About to turn back, he just happened to have stopped to turn around right where there was a tiny sliver of an offshoot to the hall.

Curious, he stepped forward into the corridor and through the old wooden door at the end of the short hall, deciding he was going to follow wherever it’d take him. Where that ended was on the other side of the door. Turns out it was a hidden…prayer room? It was all stucco and warm light, a couple skinny stained glass windows and a cross between the two. One wall depicted a group of what looked to be priests.

Curiously, he tipped a small bust of some bald guy with a beard (that if he had some glasses, could be taken for a pretty good representation of Murray) and when he did, he heard a click and the squeaking of hinges. There was a hidden mechanism under it that caused a section of the wall next to him to open.

“Nice!” Steve said aloud to no one.

He replaced the bust and immediately went through the wall-door.

“Hello?” he called

The door lead into a damp, dingy, cobweb filled path and up a short set of low steps before switching back and starting up the complete opposite way.

“The hell..?”

The path before him ended suddenly in a small room, the wall in front of him had nothing but a small hinged flap with a handle at just about eye level. Lifting it, and looking through, he found himself looking through a brass grate and into parliament’s chambers? He could see the backs of some powdered wigs, and the faces of the members on the opposite side of the room, then Aunt Joyce sitting beside Prime Minister Henderson to the right.

“So yes, as of the 31st of October last year, on the occasion of his 21st birthday, another Genovian of the royal bloodline became eligible to assume the throne.”

“What?” Steve was flabbergasted.

“My son, Lord Muñoz.”

“I beg your pardon?” Aunt Joyce says, her voice is strained with disbelief “I want you to explain to me exactly what Lord Muñoz has that my nephew does not.” Steve could feel the color draining from his own face at Joyce’s tone, even though he was not at the receiving end of it (this time); he could exactly imagine how this man was feeling at the moment.

“Forgive me Your Majesty, this council does not believe that Stephan is the most suitable choice to govern our great nation. My son has grown up here, has learned all his life how to be a ruler and is more than ready to take his place as Genovia’s rightful King.” the man pauses for a moment before continuing “And how do we know Prince Stephan will run this country properly if he ends up marrying someone…not quite right for Genovia?”

“I’m going to need you to clarify that, Viscount Muñoz.”

“We all saw what happened at that beach party back in America.” he says firmly. “You know how it is, he needs a Queen to rule at his side, not another King and_”

“Oh shut up.” Steve can hear Aunt Joyce mutter under her breath.

“I beg your pardon??” He sounds pissed

“I said ‘Shut. Up.’.” Joyce sets her face and stands to face the Viscount. “I don’t want to hear your nonsense about my nephew’s love life. He is willing and able to take the throne on his own, he doesn’t need someone on his arm to be a great ruler, woman or otherwise.”

“Fuck yeah!” Steve yells, tears in his eyes, before slapping his hands over his mouth as he watches the various members of parliament search for the source of the voice.

“..With ALL due respect, your majesty, we are looking out for what is best for Genovia; and what is best for our country is for our current male heir to assume the throne, a queen on his arm, or for a more capable heir to take his place. It is the will of these members of parliament.”

There are additional murmurs of approval to his statement, though subdued as if they didn’t want to go against her majesty.

“Will all… due. Respect, Viscount Muñoz, that is an outdated and arbitrary argument. Like I said, Steve is more than capable of ruling on his own, I have every faith in him; These same members had already agreed once before that Steve’s 21st birthday would be largely ignored and he was to rule at my side until he was deemed ready to take the throne.

There is a long beat of silence before another member speaks up. “We did, majesty, but when Viscount Muñoz voiced his concerns and rightfully pointed out that Genovia already had another potential ruler, we could not ignore it.”

“We are already in agreement, your majesty.” an older member interjects. “He must marry an eligible woman and take the throne post-haste, otherwise we will allow for Lord Muñoz to take the throne in his stead.”

“What?? No!” Steve says to himself disbelievingly.

Joyce turns to Wayne, concern present in her features and in her stance.

“May I suggest a reasonable timeframe for his highness? A year perhaps; For him to find a suitable spouse? If he does not, he forfeits the throne to young Lord Muñoz.” Wayne directed to the room as a whole.

Steve found himself surprised hearing the older gentleman use the term ‘spouse’, then thankful to Dustin suddenly, knowing that it had to have been the young man who planted the vocabulary into his step-father’s vernacular. Then confused in the next at the sharp gaze directed at Viscount Muñoz from the Prime Minister’s normally open and friendly face.

Joyce looks back to the members, somewhat hopeful that she could give Steve time, but the members of parliament all start arguing over one another about this and again, that oldest geezer pipes up, louder over the rest: “30 days.”

Steve can’t listen to this any longer; he flips the vent cover back down and storms off to the throne room. Fully intending to pace a rut into the floor there until Aunt Joyce comes to meet him with the news he now already knows.

–

“How can parliament expect me to fall in love in 30 days? It’s like it’s just some trick to get me to marry who they want and_wait. That’s it isn’t it. They want to funnel me into an arranged marriage. Who would even agree to tha_” Steve cuts himself off and glances at Joyce, “...uh.. You. Would agree to that..wouldn’t you..”

“I would, and I did.” Joyce smiled at him, “At that time, I wasn’t next in line for the throne but parliament had the same idea as they have for you now, and set me up with Robert to make sure all their bases are covered. Bob was very kind and we grew very fond of each other…He was my best friend.” She gazed at their portrait in the throne room, the most recent in the line.

She had ruled the last 12 years as Queen, with Robert at her side as Prince consort until he died unexpectedly about six years previously. The portrait did very well to convey the warmth and kindness he’d been told Bob had. The friendly, round-faced man smiled back at Steve and Joyce from his seat in front of the painted Joyce.

“That’s great Aunt Joyce, but when I do get married, I want it to be for love not for fond-ness.” Steve shrugged dejectedly. “Last resort being marrying Robin just to get them off my back, but she’s definitely not what they are looking for either.”

“But you don’t have to do this Steve, you don’t have to become King”

Steve stops and leans against one of the grand pillars, looking around at all the faces of his ancestors that adorn the walls.

His eyes burn when he stops at his grandfather’s portrait. He sees his own eyes looking back at him and he knows his decision.

“There are 550 years of Renaldis on these walls, and I will be up there next to you, and next to my Grandfather. I want my chance to make a difference.” He finishes. Looking determinedly back at Joyce.

“Spoken like a true King.” Joyce smiles at him softly, pride on her face.

–

“You, my boy, a true-born Genovian. You should be our King.”

Eddie smiles at the image of his dad in front of the dart board. His head is circled by the board making it look both like a halo, and as if the spot between his eyes is now the bullseye. ‘Ironic.’ He thinks.

“I agree.” Eddie steps forward and plucks his last dart from behind his father’s head. “But how do we make it happen?

“Let me have one of your darts.” he says, placing down his whiskey and taking the dart Eddie holds out to him “I’m going to show you a trick I learned from an old Italian philosopher. Niccolo Machiavelli."

The Viscount stands back a good ways from the board “I can make this arrow hit the bullseye every time.”

‘Well, now I know for sure where I get my dramatics from’ Eddie thinks to himself as he watches his dad barrel forward with a yell and place the dart directly into the center of the board.

“Yes, but that is cheating.”

“You’ve got it.”

–

Now, only one whole day after Parliament met on Steve’s fate, he was waiting for their new guest to make his grand arrival for his stay at the palace. Steve was still adjusting his appearance in the entrance hall’s mirror (a pull on his collar here, a flick of the swoop in his hair there), when Joyce entered with Hopper and Dustin(??) flanking her.

‘What is Dustin doing here? And why is he dressed like Hopper’s mini-me?’ Steve thinks.

“The Viscount is not staying, only the son. Hopper, I want you to protect him and keep an eye on him at all times.”

“Of course madam. Dustin?” Hopper gives a wave and Dustin marches off towards the palace doors.

“So is this appropriate to welcome Viscount Muñoz and his son?” Steve gave a turn in front of Joyce, his simple dark wash slacks and a white button-up with its collar poking out the top of a Mustard-yellow cable knit sweater.

“Very appropriate, and handsome.”

“I can’t believe Parliament invited the guy who’s trying to steal the throne to stay with us at the palace.” Steve complained, turning back to adjust his appearance yet again, which at this point is just his nervousness manifesting itself.

“Parliament didn’t,” Joyce started, now also checking her appearance in the mirror beside Steve.

“Oh?” Another tug on his shirt collar.

“I did.” she stated matter-of-factly, then turned away from the mirror where Steve was now doing a very astute impression of a goldfish at her retreating reflection.

“I offered to have him strung up by his toes in our courtyard. Excuse me, madam.” Hopper interjected before turning to head to his place at the entrance.

“Yeah, what about Hop’s suggestion?”

“If there’s any mischief going on, I’d rather it be right under my nose.” She took a seat in one of the ornate chairs next to the mirror.

Steve was pacing now “I just don’t want to be nice to this guy, y’know? I mean he’s rude, his arrogant, self-centered–”

“Have you even met him??”

“No…”

“Neither have I.”

“But he probably is Joyce, and like, where is this even coming from? All of a sudden he wants to be King of Genovia??” Steve huffs and puts both hands on his hips. Robin would make fun of him for his “mom pose”. Ugh he wishes she were here, but Joyce had (honestly, kinda smartly,) sent her on an errand this morning, knowing she’d be there to help Hopper string up Lord Muñoz.

“Oh stop. Whatever he is, we will be welcoming, pleasant, and we will conduct ourselves with grace and poise.”

“Presenting, Viscount and Lord Muñoz” The palace announcer pounds his staff twice.

Steve stands just behind Joyce, flopping his arms down off his hips in a huff and getting in one more eye roll for good measure before he puts on his Prince Stephan face.

The mask shatters immediately after Viscount Muñoz’ entrance however, as the second person to enter the hall is none other than “Just Eddie”.

Steve feels his jaw drop open and the smoldering smirk he recognizes on Eddie’s face from their time at the ball, is now conniving and evil-looking.

Steve feels his heart breaking.

“Your Majesty, may I present my son, Lord Edmund Muñoz.”

“We are delighted to make your acquaintance, Edmund.” Joyce has her hand extended.

Steve turns his face from their guests all together. Willing the burning threat of tears away while Joyce greets them. He can hear Eddie’s smooth voice tell her “The pleasure is all mine, your majesty. And thank you for inviting me to stay at the palace.”

It’s quiet for a moment and Steve can guess what’s coming next.

“May I present my nephew Steve.”

Steve can just barely make out her voice over the ringing in his ears. He’s still not looking at Edmund.

“Your Highness.”

More ringing.

“Steve, would you care to welcome our guest?”

Steve takes a deep breath and makes a decision.

Turning to face Edmund, meeting his smile with the patented King Steve smirk, and extends his hand in greeting. “Lord Edmund.” He emphasizes with a grin and grasps Edmund's warm, calloused hand as if to shake it.

Then he twists and stomps on Edmund’s foot. Hard.

Steve wrenches his hand from Edmund’s and storms off down the hall. Fully ignoring everyone else in the room. Someone laughs, Steve can vaguely hear Joyce is saying something to Edmund in a panicked tone, can register that Hopper and Murray are doing exactly nothing, and knows he is being a big baby about this but he can’t bring himself to care.

–

He ends up in the kitchens, a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream in one hand, and his other is armed with a spoon, angrily shoveling the sweet treat into his mouth.

‘Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stu_ ’ his brain repeated on a loop. He’d feel his eyes burning and his throat clenching with emotion, then they’d both disperse in anger and ‘Who does he think he is getting off on pulling this shit on me??’ and back to heartbreak..then back to ‘Fucking stop feeling sorry for yourself, why are you even feeling so sad about a nothing encounter that literally only consisted of him being stupid hot??’

It was because he’d really felt a connection and now it was fully trampled on (not unlike Lord Edmund’s foot).

Steve looked up when he caught some movement to his right and was met with the sight of Max extending a tissue towards him. Sticking his spoon back into the pint of ice cream hurriedly, he reached up to take it and wipe away the totallynon-existanttearsthankyou.

“Thanks.” Steve said in a small voice, looking down at his melting ice cream

There was a long pause, then “Do you want me to fight them?”

A hysterical laugh bubbled its way out of Steve’s chest. He looked up and nodded to Max “Maybe later, Mad Max, I’ll keep in touch, okay?”

She smiled and went back to the dishes she was washing in the ridiculously oversized sink.

He had just barely gone back to his ice cream when Aunt Joyce came down the stairs into the kitchen.

“Care to explain what just happened up there??”

“Sorry..” Steve says around a mouthful of ice cream. He swallowed and continued “So turns out I HAVE met Lord Muñoz . Yeah, I met him at the ball; didn’t know who he was…but we danced and I…flirted and..” here comes the throat clench again “I feel so stupid.” He pinched the bridge of his nose to try and hold back the tears this time.

“Well as your Queen I absolutely cannot condone it.”

Steve nodded sullenly, plopping his spoon into his ice cream again.

“But as your Aunt, I say ‘Fuck yeah’.” Joyce smiled that mischievous smile at him. “Now, if you’ll come with me, I have something to show you.” She starts toward the stairs from the kitchen.

“Oh, uh, okay.” He stands and moves to follow her.

“Ah, I think you can leave your ice cream here.” She points back to where he was sitting and heads up the stairs.

“Damn..” Steve looked over to where Max had been earlier and found her trying very hard to make it look like she hadn’t been listening this whole time.

He gave her a short whistle and when she looked up he pointed his pointer and middle fingers to his eyes then pointed them at Max who was looking at him like he was a complete doofus. He pointed down at his soupy pint, and mouthed “I’ll be back.” before following Joyce out of the kitchen.

Part 3 will be here!

Again, tagging those that seemed interested!! @henderdads, @totallybitchin , @potentialheartofdarkness , @steddieasitgoes , @princessstevemunson @livewondrousss, @mightbeasleep

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #princess diaries au #princess diaries #stranger things #st #stranger things fic #st fic #dustin henderson #robin buckley #jim hopper #murray bauman #joyce byers #max mayfield #maxine mayfield #jopper #royal au

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jamiewintons · 1 year

Text

A Break in Routine (Jamie Winton/F!Reader)

Summary: Jamie’s staying late at work, but with the impending end of the world, all you want is to spend some time with him. Maybe this is your chance to fulfil one of your long-time fantasies?

Tags/Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Desk Sex. Teasing. Fingering. Unprotected Sex. Slightly Dominant Jamie. Mentions of Death/End of the World. Implied Breeding Kink.

A/N: The first of the prompt fills for my request event; the prompts were “Jamie Winton + Desk Sex + Awkward Flirting”. I must admit, the "awkward flirting" part of the prompt kind of got away from me, so I'm instead interpreting it as Jamie reacting to the flirting awkwardly. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Word Count: 2879

Jamie Taglist: @pink-booty-butts, @demontoucansam, @the-fandomgremlin, @glow-inthe-darkstarz, @definetlynotasmutaccount, @thingses-and-stuffses, @jamiewintonmybeloved @clydethesnake @bluedenimbabe @notwhateveriwasbefore (Please fill this form out if you want to be added!)

Well, this is the man I fell in love with, you think to yourself, idly playing with a loose thread hanging off of your skirt. You sigh, looking at him hunched over his desk, scribbling away at some paperwork. Some paperwork that really didn’t need to be done, considering that the world was going to end in approximately two weeks, and everything – this bank, all the paperwork, and the two of you – would be gone, like it had never existed in the first place.

But he loves his routine, and so he continues to show up to work every day even when no one else does. It makes him feel calmer in the face of death, he would insist.

You only wish that Jamie had instead decided to spend all of the time he had left with you, but at least he’d conceded today, and asked if you could stay by his side while he worked. Unfortunately, he decided he needed to stay late tonight, and as the evening became later and later, you grew increasingly impatient. Jamie was so focused on his work that he hadn’t noticed any of your exaggerated, exasperated sighs, which had been all a ploy to grab his attention.

This just won’t do. You’re determined that you’re going to tick at least one thing off of your bucket list before that comet destroys everything. So quietly, you stand up, removing your jacket and draping it over the back of your chair. Jamie doesn’t seem to notice that you had moved.

To demand his attention, you break the silence - which had been lingering for at least half an hour at this point - first by clearing your throat, and then by speaking up. “I think you should take a break,” you tell him, keeping your tone soft and relatively neutral. You don’t want him to know exactly what you’ve got in store for him just yet.

Jamie’s hand doesn’t cease moving, continuing to focus on the paperwork even as he speaks to you. You cross your arms over your chest, mildly irritated at not being his top priority. “I’m almost done, sweetheart. I know you’ve been waiting a long time, but I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

“You said that an hour ago, Jamie,” you say, with yet another sigh.

Now it’s Jamie's turn to sigh, and you can tell from his eyes that he feels guilty, but his gaze is still locked firmly on the paper in front of him. “I know. I’m really sorry, but I do mean it this time.”

“Well… this is important, and it can’t wait.” Finally deciding that it’s time to just take what you want, you put yourself between Jamie’s chair and his desk, blocking his view of his work. Your boyfriend looks up at you with confused eyes, only for you to lean towards him, your lips so close to his ear that they touch it when you begin to seductively whisper. “I want you to fuck me, Jamie.” Your hand rests on his thigh now, and you feel him tense beneath you. “On this desk. Right now.”

With how close you are to him, you can hear his breath quicken at your words. You smile to yourself, your hand taking a firmer grip on his thigh. Jamie blinks rapidly, trying to find the words to respond to what you’ve just said. “Love, we… we can’t do that…”

“Why not?” you ask him, and pull back to be able to look into his eyes as he considered his answer. His cheeks had gone that shade of pink that you loved, nearly the same shade as those pink boxers he always wore. You trailed your hand further up his thigh, getting dangerously close to his already hardening cock. “Come on, are you seriously telling me that you’ve never thought about it?”

Jamie stays silent, the blush on his cheeks only getting brighter and brighter. He awkwardly fidgets with the buttons of his jacket, trying not to betray the fact that he definitely has thought about it. When the day was getting far too stressful and he knew that you were the only one who could bring him any comfort. Or when you’d come into the bank to visit him, and his eyes couldn’t help but linger on the parts of your thighs he could see, uncovered by your short skirt. He’d certainly thought about it, but it was just that; a fantasy. One that shouldn’t be replicated in real life, owing to how utterly inappropriate it was to have sex at work.

“You haven’t thought of me kneeling down under your desk, unzipping your trousers and taking you into my mouth? No one else can know what I’m doing, so you have to try and keep a straight face when I’m making you feel so good?” Your hand leaves Jamie’s thigh, and his eyes flicker up to you, mourning the loss of contact. Instead, you shift his paperwork out of the way, and take a seat on his desk right in front of him. “You haven’t thought of sweeping everything off the desk and fucking me on top of it? Because I certainly have. Every time I step foot in this place. After I leave, I always find myself needing to, well… take care of business.”

Jamie takes a sharp inhale, overwhelmed by the fact that every time you visit him at work, you end up touching yourself to the thought of him fucking you on his desk. Part of him wonders how long you would wait to do it. Would you wait until you got back home? Or did you sometimes find yourself so turned on that you couldn’t help yourself but do it in your car, before you could even think about driving home? He swears under his breath as those images invade his mind. Already, his resolve is beginning to slip, and the paperwork he’d been trying to finish seems far, far away, to the point that he barely remembers it.

You know that Jamie is so close to giving in, and you’re so close to getting what you want. You cross one of your legs over the other, drawing his attention to your thighs, before speaking again. “Come on, honey, what’s the harm? It’s just the two of us here, the place is all locked up… you can do whatever you want to me, and no one will see or hear us.”

With that last push, something in Jamie’s eyes changes and before you even know it, he’s on his feet and pushing your legs apart so he can fit in between them. One hand tangles in your hair as he crashes his lips against yours with an almost bruising roughness, while the other rapidly slides up your thigh until it’s beneath your skirt and the tips of his fingers are millimetres away from touching your panties. You smile into the kiss, feeling Jamie’s very prominent erection, and you bring your hand down to brush your fingers against it through the fabric of his trousers. At this contact, Jamie deepens the kiss further, making you whimper and leaving you breathless.

Jamie’s just about to push you down onto the top of the desk, but suddenly he notices all of his work supplies and stationary still in their proper places sitting on the surface. “Hold on, I, uh… I need to get this out of the way.” To your surprise and horror, Jamie pulls away from you, starting to pick up all of his things and placing them meticulously on the other end of the desk. It baffles you to understand how he could even have the presence of mind to think about a few pens and sticky notes when you can barely think at all.

For a few moments, you simply watch him as he goes along, neatly rearranging things. It’d probably be funny if you weren’t so horny, but you were so you could hardly see the humour in it. When Jamie gets close enough to you, and he reaches out to grab the stapler that was beside your leg, you take hold of his wrist and stop him in his tracks.

“I’ve been waiting patiently all day,” you tell him, pouting. He opens his mouth to say something, probably about how it would take just a little bit longer for him to be done, you quickly cut him off. “None of this stuff is going to matter for much longer, Jamie. Please, don’t keep me waiting. I need you.”

Jamie hesitates. His eyes flicker between your face - as you look up at him with pleading eyes, flushed cheeks, and biting your bottom lip - and the stapler beside you. Then he looks again. And once more. After that, it only takes a few more seconds of consideration before he pulls you off the desk and brushes all of the remaining items off of it with a sweep of his arm. You barely even hear the sound of work supplies clattering onto the floor, before he lifts you onto the desk and pushes you back so that you’re laying down on the surface.

His lips are on yours in an instant, though they don’t linger there for long. Soon his kisses are trailing down to your jawline and then to your neck, where he sucks a mark into the sensitive flesh. All the while his hand slips back under your skirt, grabbing at your panties and pulling them down your legs. You do your best to lift your lower body up to make it easier to remove them, though it’s a little difficult with Jamie on top of you. He manages to get the pesky garment out of the way, letting them fall to the floor before his fingers are teasing at your already soaked entrance.

You moan loudly as one long finger slips inside of you, your hand gripping onto the fabric of Jamie’s shirt. A similar noise escapes Jamie when he feels how tight and wet you are, even around just a single digit. He begins moving his hand, eager to stretch you out so you’ll be able to take him. A second finger quickly joins the first, and before long, a third one does too. You’re squirming and whining as Jamie prepares you, wrapping your legs around him so tightly that it’s difficult for him to pull away.

He manages however, and once he’s withdrawn his fingers from you, you sit up a little so you can watch as he unbuckles his belt, before pulling his trousers and boxers down just enough to free his painfully hard cock from its confines. “Are you ready?” he asks, his voice slightly deeper than usual, and you immediately squeak out an affirmative answer, your eyes locked on his intimidating length. Once you’ve given your consent, he’s back between your legs and flipping your skirt up, before slowly, carefully pushing inside of you.

It stings a bit as you struggle to take him in - though that's true every time you have sex, regardless of how much time he puts aside to prepare you - and once he’s completely sheathed inside, you close your eyes tightly and grasp Jamie’s shoulder, adjusting to the feeling of being so ridiculously full. As you do so, Jamie presses his face against the side of yours, whispering soft, soothing praises in your ear as his large hands massage your thighs in an attempt to make you feel more comfortable. With each passing second, the pain fades away, and is replaced with a burning desire for him to just start moving already. For him to fuck you until you’re both pushed over the edge.

A quiet, strained “Jamie, please”, seems to get the point across, and he pulls back to look at your face, wanting to make sure that you’re ready. You nod, a whimper escaping you, and you brace yourself as both of his hands come to hold your hips.

Jamie starts off with slow, shallow thrusts - though they’re more than enough to have you gasping out loud, and scrambling to wrap your legs around his midsection once again. You tuck your arms beneath Jamie’s own, digging your fingernails into his shoulders through the fabric of his shirt.

His lips find their way back to yours, your messy, open-mouthed kisses only being interrupted by the moans being pulled from both of you as Jamie begins to speed up the pace of his hips. With every thrust he’s managing to hit that sweet spot inside of you, making you squeeze him tighter with both your legs and hands.

Eventually the kisses become impossible to maintain, with how you’re practically gasping for air, so Jamie’s lips return to your neck, gently nipping and sucking and marking you even more. Now his pace is getting faster, rougher, and it’s making your head spin. You try to speak, to beg for him, but all that comes out is semi-coherent babbling; sobbed out curse words and the word “please” over and over.

Jamie knows that you’re close. He can feel it from the way you’re squeezing around him unbelievably tight, how your hands are struggling to find purchase against his shoulders but your grip is failing. All you need is that last little push and he has to do it quickly, because he knows that he’s going to come soon too, and he’ll be damned if he finishes before you’re satisfied.

He manages to pry himself from your grip and you whine at the loss of contact, but once he’s pulled back a bit and begun rubbing circles on your aching clit with his thumb, you’re no longer complaining. This combined with his deep, rough strokes has you coming hard within moments, bucking your hips up against his as your cunt pulsates around his cock. Jamie does his best to go on for as long as he can, to prolong your climax as much as possible, but soon enough it’s too much for him. He buries himself inside you as far as he can, his hips stilling with a long, breathless moan of your name as he fills you with his cum.

You feel almost like you’re seeing stars as you come down from your high, your chest moving up and down harshly. Jamie’s peppering soft kisses all over your face, murmuring sweet praises and pet names into your skin as he struggles to steady his breathing as well. Once you feel in control of yourself again you smile contentedly, bringing your hands up to run your fingers through his impossibly soft hair. You stay like that for who knows how long, just enjoying the feeling of being so close, so connected.

However it eventually becomes uncomfortable to remain in your current position, so Jamie has to slowly pull out, his legs still a little shaky from his orgasm. He looks down, and watches with barely contained interest as some of his cum leaks from your spent pussy, considering trying to push some of it back inside with his fingers - definitely because he was concerned about making a mess, and no other reasons - but decides against it on the grounds that you’re probably feeling too sensitive.

As he tucks himself back into his pants, Jamie feels worn out, but there’s no way he’s as exhausted as you look; nearly passed out there on his desk. Still, you give him that warm, loving smile, making him feel a little giddy, even after what you’ve just done. He has no idea why he’d been bothering with boring paperwork when he could be spending all of his time with you.

“I hate to say I told you so…” you begin, smugly but sweetly, and Jamie can’t help but let out a quiet laugh.

“But you did tell me so.” Jamie leans down to pick up your underwear, and when he’s standing back up again, he just happens to glance at his watch and his eyes widen. “Shit, I didn’t realise how late it was. We need to get home.”

He looks around at the mess he left when he swept everything off the desk and briefly considered tidying it up, but then his gaze returned to you. Who cares about a few bits of stationery and paperwork? All he wants to spend all the time he has left with you. In his last moments, was he going to be thinking about the bank and how he wished he’d cleaned up, or was he going to think of all the things he missed doing with you?

Jamie knows his answer, and he doesn’t know why he had been spending so much time and energy on something that in the grand scheme of things, didn’t even matter. With that thought on his mind, he picks up his bag, wanting to get you home and cook you a nice dinner. “Ready to head home, love?”

“Uh, Jamie?" you say, as you try and then fail to sit up. He's right there in an instant, tenderly stroking your arm as he looks at you with concern in his eyes. "I think you’re going to have to carry me to the car. Not sure if I can still walk after that.”

Jamie grins. “Of course.”

#jamie winton x reader #jamie winton imagine #jamie winton fluff #jamie winton smut #jamie winton fanfiction #ymata imagine #you me and the apocalypse imagine #ymata fanfiction #you me and the apocalypse fanfiction #x reader smut #x reader fic #x reader fanfiction #mari's stuff #nsft text

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doevademe · 2 years

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Percy is loosing a lot of blood and he s asked what s his type. What s his answer ? But this time meme the ask 🤪 go crazy 🤯 you re my fave percico writter after all

"That's a nasty gash," Percy said conversationally, leaning on the wall, as if said gash wasn't on his own torso, going from his left hip to below his right pectoral. "Might leave a mark."

"Are you for real?!" Kyler, the young demigod they were sent to fetch, screeched as he looked around. "You've lost at least a pint of blood already!"

Kyler didn't want to think what would happen once the guy's scary friend, Nico, found out what happened.

"Maybe your dad really is Apollo," Percy kept going, to the point Kyler feared he was going delirious. "If so, you won't like me much once you're at camp."

The young boy ignored him, just glad that the fight had happened inside his mom's workplace, which happened to be a freaking blood bank (Percy Jackson must be very favored by the gods he didn't know existed 5 hours ago)

"I need to know your type," he said. Percy winced.

"Just for the record," he said. "It wasn't my fault they broke up. Despite what anyone says, I didn't know they were fighting or that what I did could be seen as flirting!"

"Your type, Percy!" Kyler said impatiently.

Percy looked around confused.

"Not here," he answered.

"What do you mean 'not here'?! Every type is here!" If the blood loss didn't kill Percy, Kyler would be the one to finish the snake woman's job.

"Not mine," Percy said, melancholy. "You know it's funny. You never really think about these things until one day, you look at someone who used to watch over you but doesn't anymore, and you realize 'damn, I have never wanted anything more than to have that back'."

Kyler stayed quiet. His first instinct was to press Percy for his type again, but something about the mood made him shut up. Percy could be uttering his last words, and it would be rude to interrupt him.

"And... people see you and wonder if something's wrong with you, and there is, but... only because you took like seven years to realize it." Percy chuckled a little bit, only to since at the movement. "And you realize you do have a type. You love the acidic sense of humor, the roguish smiles, the sense that you can both protect and be protected by someone you've known for so long, who will never give you up, let you down... Or desert you."

Kyler blinked, perplexed. Was this demigod... Rickrolling him?

"I MEANT YOUR BLOOD TYPE, YOU MORON!"

"O Positive," a new voice spoke. Kyler jumped as Scary Demigod AKA Nico seemingly materialized out of a corner and looked at him unimpressed. "Why is no one pressing against his wound?"

Kyler's face dropped in shame as Nico approached the ailing demigod and inspected his stomach.

"My type is here!" Percy exclaimed happily. Kyler's eyes bugged out. Nico? The guy who looked like he would kill first, ask questions to your ghost later?

"You're lucky you got slashed, or a rag is what I'd be pressing against your mouth." While his voice was as even and threatening as ever, Kyler noticed how his expression softened and he smiled softly. "That would stop you from emotionally scarring children."

"Aww, babe, no need to be embarrassed," Percy gushed. "And the kid will hate me anyways once his cabin counselor talks to him."

"Forget the blood. The wound is superficial," Nico said. "There's a bag with squares of food in my backpack, give me that and something for him to drink."

Kyler yelped and obeyed quickly. He felt like an intruder on the scene, as Nico whispered stuff into Percy's ear, making him smile.

"So, what's your type, handsome?" Percy asked, looking at Nico. The other demigod rolled his eyes.

"Not sure, I'm debating if he has a death wish right now."

Percy guffawed for half a second, only to groan and hold his stomach right after.

Nico looked pleased with himself.

#Thanks for the compliment #percico #my writing #This is me doing percico type jokes in 2022 #Also say hello to my OC Kyler #He has nothing to do with PJO but I inserted him because I needed a kid medic who doesn't know Percy #The joke is also lame #But I liked the story itself so...#I hope you liked it #Even if it wasn't what you expected #ask #anonymous #drabble #writing prompt

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joshuasearing · 1 year

Text

Tuesday 2nd May 2023

Hey journal sorry I have been really busy the past couple days with work and others things I have been really struggling to keep up with everything. Anyways past couple days have been ok but really stressful due to work. 2 days ago after work I went to the gym with my girlfriend. We went to the gym I usually go to and the one I have a monthly membership to. Anyways as we went there I asked how much a day pass is as my girlfriend needed to one however the worker I know there said it is usually be £15 pounds but as we know you we will just let her in for free which was really nice from her. Anyways at the gym I did a pull day and It was really good and I worked my absolute ass off. After the gym me and my girlfriend walked to my house as the weather was really nice so we choose to not get the bus. Once we got home we relaxed with each other for a little bit. After being in my room for a bit, we decided to go downstairs to watch football. She supports Liverpool and I support Tottenham and they were both playing against each other. The first half was shit as we played awful, however the 2nd half was much better and was actually nice to watch. Anyways we ended up scoring in one of the last minutes for an equaliser and the person that scored was a player that use to play for a team that was really big rivals with liverpool so everton. Anyways we all thought It was the end of the game. Anyways in the last minute Lucas Moura accidentally loses the ball and liverpool get the ball and score and they end up beating us right at the end. Anyways after football we went back upstairs and relaxed with each other for a little bit before both going to bed.

Anyways yesterday started of by my mum waking me up as my alarm had not went off meaning I did not wake up and when I decided to look on my app the alarms had completely dissapeared on my phone which was so confusing. Anyways my mum ended up having to drop me of to work otherwise I would of ended up being really late. Anyways luckily I ended up getting to work on time. Anyways work was stressful like usual. It was really busy especially in the morning as there was a car meet in the car park outside. Also on top of that it was a bank holiday monday so some people were not working like usual. So it sort of felt like a weekend shift. Anyways sometimes I had to run parks out to customers and It was so difficult occationally finding there cars as there were loads of cars outside due to the car meet. Also due to the car meet loads of people were outside there cars talking about them with other people that are into cars. At one point I had some people from the car meet try to help me find a customers car but they could not either. Anyways also In the morning they ended up putting me on headset and drinks which is a station that I am really weak on and I struggled to really keep up and ended up forgetting to do a lot of drinks and ended up making loads of mistakes. Anyways after a while I ended up feeling really stressed and luckily they allowed me to come off the station so someone else can go on it whilst I go back to instore. Anyways after work I went home I got both me and my girlfriend a mcflurry so I suprised my girlfriend with a ice cream that she was happy with. Once I got home I spent some time with my girlfriend which was nice. After a few hours she got picked up and went home. Once she left I went downstairs and watched Everton vs Leicester. They ended up drawing however I ended up falling asleep after about 60 minutes of the game. Anyways I ended up waking on the sofa this morning and I slept the whole night on the sofa instead of in my bed.

Speak to you later journal. Goodbye journal!

#journal #daily journal #writing

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fractallion · 1 year

Text

An Afternoon with Kafka

Sometimes you need to tell a story just to get it out there. Because otherwise you really would think that you were actually living in a Kafka novel.

The Bank

Just opened a new bank account. First time inside a bank branch for years. Such a depressing place. Now I remember why I stopped going to them.

The DMV

A clue as to how depressing that bank branch was … the next stop was the DMV and the feeling was comparatively joyous and then over the next 2 hours, well, not so much. Slowly I felt my life ebbing away.

Turns out that the DMV is a 20 minute drive from the bank … 20 minutes, added to the expected half hour wait in line was going to absorb too much of my time, so a quick check of their web site and a minute later I had booked myself a slot. I needed to be there in 25 minutes … perfect timing and already 30 minutes ahead of the curve.

Except of course, my passenger was Murphy.

L.A. = Traffic. The 20 minute drive took 26 minutes. Appointment missed by 1 minute.

BUT …

My number was still on the board - so I dutifully stood in my line of 1 waiting for the lady who slipped in front of me to complete her business.

I finally got to the counter and the DMV guy looked at me.

… “can I help you?”

I explained .. to the increasingly blank stare.

Apparently I had lost my place and needed to get a new number.

“But the number is still …”

“You need to get a new number.”

Pointing towards a line at the front of the office.

I start again.

I walk to the line of 4 people. I can fix that. I jump onto the web site like earlier, got a new number and sat down. Another 20 minutes apparently. Still - better than the half hour I had thought.

15 minutes later (under promise - over deliver) I am being served. First question …. can they have my application form?

Confused … sorry … what application form? … nobody told me about an application form.

The lady points me over to a new part of the building … where you go to ‘fill in your form’. I walk over. According to the sign, you can’t take cell phones into that part of the building. So where can I leave it I asked someone standing near me who ‘looked official’.

No idea … I should go talk to ‘someone at the counter’.

I move to the counter.

Go to terminal 18, complete the application, take a picture of my confirmation number …and then get a new line number.

But, the sign says ”no phon .. “

“Oh - just ignore that …”

I completed the form, got the confirmation number and didn’t even bother to go to the line to get my new number. I just hopped on to the web app … **but clearly, they were on to me. **

This service is currently unavailable to you.

To me? Not ‘generally unavailable’. But unavailable to me.

I move across to the ‘line’ waiting to get their number, stand behind the one person who was in the process of wrestling with the machine. (Does 1 person constitute a line?)

My turn. I follow the instructions. ‘Computer say no’. It is clearly in cahoots with the web app … ‘this service is currently unavailable to you.’

I clearly had made a mistake. I mean this is where you get your number. I tried again.

‘This service is currently unavailable to you.’

I looked around and seeing nobody ‘looking official’ - wandered back to the lady that told me to fill in my application and take a photo of the confirmation number with my phone - that the sign clearly said I was not allowed to have with me. She clearly understands how to bypass the system.

‘Have you completed the form?’

I showed her my confirmation number on my illicit phone.

‘Ok - you need to get your number from ‘over there’.’ … pointing to a totally different place to where I had been trying to get my number.

I looked and in the distance there was yet another counter with a line and a very nice sign above it that read ’Start Here’.

But, but … I’m not ‘starting’ I’ve been here …

‘Just go there sir.’

I did as I was told and got into the line behind 4 people who were clearly ‘ready to start’.

One was served.

Then the next.

This is great - I am clearly the next, failing to observe how a second line had built up in parallel to mine - and as I moved forward towards the counter - the hand was raised - and as deftly as any traffic cop I have seen in the streets, the person from the front of the other line was waived forward.

I stood back. I waited.

And then it was my turn. Even though there were still two people in this mysterious second line - they clearly would have to wait.

‘Have you completed your application form?’

‘Yes’.

‘Can you show me your confirmation number’

I dutifully obliged - at which point the gentleman played that Keyboard as if he had a full orchestra behind him and was performing a Rachmaninoff piano concerto.

A whirring noise emanated from the printer and … no - of course there was no printer, it was just a whirring noise. Meanwhile, ‘my man’ carefully transcribed a number that was displayed on his screen to a form in front of him and with a final flourish handed said form over to yours truly, as he did so said, ‘take a seat and wait until your number is called’.

I looked at my number and up at the screen - only two in front - great.

I sat down and shortly, the numbers moved - I was next.

It was then that a totally different number was called. And then a different number again. And then once more. My sequence was clearly no longer part of the sequence.

Until it was.

The number called, I presented myself at the desk to finally solve for the problem I had come to solve.

The process of renewing was relatively uneventful, although I do need to make an observation.

1) Life is currently running through a series of challenges and changes, with one being that I am not currently of any fixed abode.

“What is your address?” I give them my ‘official, paperwork supported’ address.

“Is this where you want us to send your license to?” No it isn’t actually. As you can see that address is in NorCal - I am living in LA at the moment - can you send it to an address in LA?

We can indeed. I give them the information.

All good - until this zinger.

You should know that the address we send the license to is the address that will be printed on your license.

Seriously? Apparently, yes.

So, for the next ten years my license will have the address of my friends house on it. An address that the DMV are not validating in any way has anything to do with me, other than this is where they are sending the license. Meanwhile, my official, fully validated address will

to all intents and purposes - be ignored.

2) I wanted to get the RealID option on the license. Not yet absolutely necessary, but wanted to get ahead of the curve and it makes in country flight identification a lot easier.

Yeah no

You need bills, statements and the like to ‘prove who you are’ - and of course the address they want to use is the address where they are sending the license - not the official address that they have in their system.

Clearly, I have no paperwork for that address.

But, eye test, payment, no questions as to why my license had been expired for the last 6 months, All this was pretty smooth.

I am given two pieces of paper, temporary license and receipt and told to ‘go over there’ and show them my receipt.

”Where? Exactly?”

Over there. Pointing at the desk with the lady who knows how to bypass the system,

Thank you I said - and moved towards the counter on the other side of the cavern offices.

On arrival, I was given a quizzical look..

”They sent me here and told me that I had to show you my receipt.”

”Oh not me.”

”There” - pointing to a desk that until this point in time I had not been aware of.

I move on and another lady asks for my receipt.

I hand it over.

My thumb print is required. Again? Hadn’t the other lady just done that as I went through the renewal process?

More orchestra and told to stand back. I obliged.

”In from of the camera.”

Oh … that’s what is going on. Got it.

“Is this all you have?”

“Excuse me?”

“Is this it. Don’t you have any other papers?”

I showed her the other piece of paper.

“That’s it”

More orchestra - “ok - you are done.” - transferring the two bits of paper back to me.

I headed to the entrance - which by now should be called the exit. Looking around wondering if anybody else was going to need talking to.

Silence.

I wandered out into the sun - expecting at any moment to be stopped and asked whyI hadn’t ..

But I wasn’t.

I now had my temporary drivers license.

As for my life - that’s an afternoon that I will never get back.

But at least I had a starring role in a Kafka novel.

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pixiemage · 2 years

Text

At this rate, I'm beginning to think this won't ever get resolved, but I'm going to rant about Twitch support anyway because I feel like my head's about to explode.

So I have a Twitch channel, and for the longest time I've been mildly inconvenienced by the fact that I had to make my username "Pixie_mage" as opposed to "Pixiemage" like I wanted it to be because my first choice was already taken. It's minor, really, so I've never been too upset about it even though I do occasionally check to see if Pixiemage is available so I can change my name.

That is, I did used to check...until about a week and a half ago. I was on Discord and noticed that I had my Twitch account linked, and I was a little baffled when the name attached was Pixiemage, not my actual channel. Not the one I use for streaming. And I was even more confused when I saw that I had a subscription for Jacksepticeye's Twitch attached to it. But then I laughed because - oh my god - I realized I must have made an account ages back for one purpose, stopped using it for a while, forgot I'd made it, and because it was connected to an old email I don't really use anymore I didn't get a popup saying I already had an account when I went to make a new one.

Basically, I was the one standing in the way of having my preferred username the whole damn time.

I could stop there, because that's a pretty hilarious conclusion - but I can't, because it only goes downhill from here.

I tried to log into my old account. Of course, because I literally forgot it existed, it took me a few tries to figure out what email and password I'd used for it way back when. I got it in the end, but it doesn't really matter, because I never made it past the login screen. It told me I needed to reset my password in order to continue, and it said it had sent me a link in my email.

Checked my email.

No link.

And I'm absolutely certain it's the right email because it told me when I had the wrong one. (I got stuck waiting for about 24 hours because I'd tried too many emails, so - yeah. I knew I'd gotten the right one when it didn't lock me out.)

I tried a few more times, checked my spam, checked to see if maybe I had a block on Twitch emails - but no, they weren't blocked, because I was still getting monthly invoices for the subscription I hadn't realized I was still paying for and - later - Twitch support emails were getting through no problem. (And yeah, maybe I should've noticed the subscription thing sooner, but to be fair the invoices were being sent to an email I don't use anymore and I have a few other subscriptions active on my current account, so even the stuff popping up in my bank account didn't really raise any red flags.)

ANYWAY. This is the point at which I contacted Twitch. All I wanted was to figure out a way to force the email through or send a link to an alternate email address or, hell, to my phone number. They asked me a whole bunch of questions to make sure I was who I said I was - and nothing. Apparently I'm not actually me, because whatever information I provided wasn't "accurate". Which, bullshit, I think I know my own email and phone number and username and birthday, and I have a list of every single invoice number from now all the way back until the damn of time, all sitting in my inbox...of the email address that you can clearly see is attached to my Twitch account. I have bank statements if that ain't enough, my old username is almost identical to the one I use today, I use Pixiemage on almost every form of social media on the planet and - hell - my profile picture is the same one I made on a goddamn pixie hollow character designer game a decade ago, the one I still use on multiple accounts including my other Twitch account, and I've got the full sized version sitting on my fucking USB drive from high school if you're looking for the source.

(And maybe, yeah, that last one won't prove anything, but I'm trying to make a point here.)

I am who I say I am, and in reality, all I want to do is go in, scan my inbox for friends I need to add back on my new account, and either change my username or delete the damn thing so I can use Pixiemage on the channel I'm actively trying to build a following on. There should be a way to prove I'm me, right? I mean, for god's sake, I have the damn thing still attached to my Discord. Surely that's a way to confirm my identity? Surely?

On the plus side, Twitch did cancel my Jacksepticeye subscription so I'm not paying for something I can't even use, which I'm grateful for. (Although, a bit weird that they let me cancel a paid subscription if they legitimately thought I wasn't the REAL Pixie_mage...but I digress.) But the crux of the problem is that this whole mess started because of Twitch itself. I did nothing wrong. I've had the correct login information this whole time, and if Twitch didn't decide to (A) bar me from my account until I changed my currently correct password and then (B) never actually send me the damn reset email I need in order to do so in the first place, this whole mess would've been dealt with in the span of an hour.

It's been a week and a half.

Twitch support keeps spouting stuff about their Privacy Policy and about how whatever I sent them isn't enough to prove my identity, and while I normally appreciate that kind of security, when they're barring me from my own fucking account it's more than enough to make me want to punch a wall. They won't even give me alternative options for how to prove my identity, and if it weren't for the fact that they did actually take care of the financial half of the problem, I'd probably be ten times more irritated than I am now.

But for real. I want my account back. Give me another way to prove it's me. Communicate. Because right now it feels like I'm talking to a brick wall.

#Twitch #Twitch support #WHAT THE HELL MAN #I'm about ready to throw hands #for fuck's sake twitch #at least TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME #this is pissing me off #and I'm already insanely stressed with work and convention prep and an event I'm performing at next week #I don't need this on top of everything else #get your shit together

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michiieewrites · 4 years

Text

THORST COLLAB: Bakugou - Starving till I tasted you

A/N: First: IF YOU’RE UNDER 18, BEGONE FROM MY BLOG SINCE I WRITE MATURE CONTENT!! This one has been sitting in my documents for almost 2 months now. This week inspiration finally struck me once again tho!

This fic is actually a Thorst Collab between my lovely friends & I on Discord. I’m the first one to post mine, so I can’t wait to see what the others will write!

Now.

STRAP ON YOUR SEATBELTS CAUSE THIS MOTHERF!@#$%CKER IS 4.2K+ WORDS LONG

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If someone told you a year ago that you would have enough money to pay off your student debt, buy your dream apartment, help out your family and friends, move abroad and drive in a ’67 Chevrolet Impala, you would’ve died laughing at the joke.

You told yourself it was stupid, buying that lottery ticket. But here you are; $100.000.000,- on your bank account. A young and now rich Omega in her prime. After making sure you had spend part of it wisely, you made sure to live the rest of your life on interest alone.

The first month had been nice. Decorating your new place, going out for dinner every day, getting a new wardrobe, spoiling yourself silly. You got new nesting materials, softer blankets and bigger pillows. It felt nice. Until it didn’t anymore. It started to feel pointless and empty. You felt like you were becoming one of those people that flaunt their money and that isn’t the type of Omega you are.

So here you are. Sitting in your peach colored dress and a numbered paddle in your hand. Tonight, you attend a charity auction. The charity was a rehabilitation program for criminals who want to get back on the right path.

The auction items aren’t exactly… items. They’re Pro Heroes. People could bid on having a date with some of the most desirable Pro Heroes, Alphas, Betas, Omegas, all of them. Even No. 1 hero Deku and No. 4 hero Red Riot are up for auction, both being Omegas.

One of the last dates are being auctioned and you realize you have been zoning out. Not having bid anything yet, you put up your paddle.

“Going once, going twice… SOLD TO NUMBER 917 FOR TONIGHT’S HIGHEST BID OF $300.000,-! A date with explosion pro hero Ground Zero!”

Oh lord. Yes! You got- wait… You got actually got it? You won a date with Pro Hero Ground Zero. Wasn’t he the one with the explosion quirk? Impressive power and always capturing the villains. What separates him from Deku is his social skills. Or lack thereof, to be more precise. Ground Zero isn’t really the type of hero to stick around the people he saved to see if they’re okay.

On top of all that he’s also an Alpha. Highly sought out by Omegas who want a pup, but not the Alpha. His genes are what people want, not the man himself. His personality also making it harder for people to approach him. And you just won a date with the most desired and aggressive Pro Hero Alpha there is.

“Oi!”

The voice behind you pulled you from your thoughts. The subtle scent of caramelized candy apples caught your attention. You turn around and find a handsome Alpha standing there. Arms crossed, cardinal red eyes watching you and his lips in an almost angry looking pout. This is the man you just bought yourself a date with.

“H-hi!” you manage to stammer out.

With a huff, he places a card on your table. You pick it up and see that it’s a business card from Ground Zero’s agency. At the bottom, writing in sleek handwriting, is a phone number. You look back up at him, ready to ask him why he gave this to you. But he’s already turning around and heading for the exit.

“Just contact me when you wanna plan that date things.”

And just like that, you had Ground Zero’s personal phone number.

~ A few days later ~

You’re sitting at a small booth, sipping on your matcha latte. You were a half hour too early, so you decided it wouldn’t hurt to go ahead and order a drink before Bakugou would arrive. In his very first text he made it clear to call him ‘Bakugou’ and not by his hero name. He said that it would feel too much like an interview otherwise. In return you told him to just call you ‘Y/N’.

After some back and forth texting the last couple of days, you two agreed to meet up at a local coffee shop. Not a lot of people know about this shop. It’s small and the interior looks more like cozy living room than a flashy coffee shop. It was your favorite place to sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee, tea or like right now, matcha latte.

Neither of you had any set plans for the rest of the day. Just kind of going with the flow seemed like the way to go. This would give you the freedom to hopefully have a quiet ‘date’. But you can’t really know that for sure when the person you’re on a date with is a Pro Hero.

The sound of the bell above the front door rings. You look up and see him walk in. Sitting all the way in the back, you can’t even smell him scent. Weren’t Alpha’s supposed to have very strong scents? Maybe he’s on suppressants?

He scans the shop, probably looking for you. His eyes land on you. He walks over and sits across from you. He leans back against the chair and swings his right arm over the arm rest while the left one is resting on the table. His eyes trail down from your face to the drink in your hands.

“I see you couldn’t wait for me to arrive,” he gruffly says.

“Uh-uhm, yeah. Sorry, I was super early. I hope you don’t mind.”

The silence that spreads between you two makes your Omega feel uncomfortable. Something doesn’t feel right and you’re starting to think that the Alpha in front of you truly doesn’t want to do any of this. So, to make it a little more bearable for yourself, you pump out a small amount of calming pheromones. Just to take the edge of this meeting.

Bakugou keeps looking at you. Until he finally picks up the menu card and says: “It’s fine. It’s your day, after all.”

He was right, you figured. But you still wanted him to have a pleasant time today too.

And so the day continues. The conversation isn’t very lengthy or deep. You discuss basic things like work, hobbies, favorite food. After a while the conversation kind of dies down. You suggest you two head out and into town. The man in front of you doesn’t seem overly thrilled about it, but still agrees.

When you go up to the front to pay, you hear him quickly walking up to you. He pulls your arm back. Surprised, you let out a small sound of shock and look up at him. A confused look is on his face and he pulls his hand away from you.

“The heck are you trying to do?”

Confused, you say: “Uh, paying?”

“I see that, but why? Omegas don’t pay when they’re with Alphas.”

Wow. At first you didn’t know how to respond to this remark. True, Omegas usually aren’t the ones paying on dates. In the past an Alpha would go out and hunt for their Omega. Since the hunting days are over and many Omegas work nowadays, treating them on dates are a way to show the Omega they can provide for them.

“Well,” you say as you hand over the money to the Beta barista behind the counter and thank him, “I don’t know about other Omegas, but I’m perfectly capable of paying for drinks too. I can provide just as well as any Alpha.”

You two walk outside and turn left to head into town. You’ve been meaning to go to the bookstore and hopefully find some new reading material. Two birds, one stone, right?

“Tsk, should’ve known a rich Omega like you doesn’t like to be told what to do,” Bakugou mumbles to himself.

You stop in your tracks. What? Was that really what he thought of you? A rich and snobby Omega?

Realizing you’re not walking beside him anymore, Bakugou turns around. Your head is bowed in shame. Normally your scent smells like peaches and hazelnuts, but now it turns into that of rotten fruit. You feel called out. For winning the lottery, for treating this Alpha to some drinks, for basically buying yourself a date with someone who clearly wishes to be anywhere else but here.

Your voice shakes, but you gather all your courage. “I’ll admit I was given a lot more financial freedom recently. And yes, I don’t like being told what to do. I believe everyone should be treated equally, regardless of their second gender. But I have never in my life asked for something. I was taught to work hard, to help people and to help and reward the people that help you.”

You pick up your head and look him straight in the eyes, politely smile and say: “I’m sorry you had to do this. This isn’t really how you planned your day would go. You can go, if you want to.”

As you pass him, determent to still go to the bookstore, you feel a weight being lifted from your heart. It really is unfair to the Alpha to make him go on a date with someone he doesn’t like. Deep down inside your Omega whines sadly. She recognized a good and safe provider in the Alpha, one who isn’t driven by hormones to just get an Omega pregnant. One who isn’t controlled their Alpha status. Too bad his Alpha isn’t interested in the Omega.

“Fuck, crap- wait! Shit!”

The cursing Alpha quickly catches up to you. He stops in front of you, holding up his hands to halt you. “Okay, fuck-just… let me explain.”

You cross your arms at him and wait for him to continue.

“Okay, so… Listen, I’ve been a real dick to you. Not just today, but basically since that charity event when I gave you my card. It was wrong of me assume anything about you. Shit Y/N, you’ve been nothing but nice to me. You don’t mind carrying the cost of a date, you’re not flaunting it around town that you’re spending time with a Pro Hero, you put up with my shitty responses and that isn’t how you should be treated. Or anyone for that matter! You deserve a proper date. So just, maybe I can make it up to you?”

By the end of his apology, Bakugou practically gives you angry puppy eyes in an attempt to ask for forgiveness. He reminds you of an angry Pomeranian. Smiling, you tell him that you forgive him. This day is supposed to be a fun one.

“But! You’ll have to carry the books I’ll buy as a punishment. And just so you know, I always come out with two shopping bags,” you tell him.

Bakugou just grins. “Fine. They’ll probably weigh nothing for me.”

Something in the air changes. A little sniff of your nose helps you identify the change. The scent coming from the Alpha next to you is slightly peaked. You heard that when an Alpha is preening their scents get stronger. You hardly think that’s the reason. Maybe it’s just because he’s in better mood now. Whatever the reason, you find yourself agreeing with your Omega; it’s a very nice scent.

~ An hour and a half later ~

“I’ve never met someone who spends over an hour inside a bookstore!”

“I told you when we came in that it could take a while,” you reply to Bakugou’s complaints.

“You do this with nesting stuff too? You know, blankets and shit,” he asks.

In both his hands, Bakugou is carrying a bag containing close to twenty books you can add to your bookcases back at home. Even underneath the sleeves of his hoodie you can see the muscles of his arms. He’s not as bulky as Pro Heroes Deku and Red Riot, but those muscles are pretty impressive. You bet your money that those thighs could squish a watermelon. You can practically feel the water filling your Omega’s mouth. She wants nothing more than to chomp down on those delicious shoulders. And honestly, you wouldn’t mind that either.

You remember you were asked a question. “I do. How else am I gonna know I made the right choice? All of those blankets and shit, as you put it, go in my nest. I’m at my best with a perfect nest.” A confident smile forms on your face and from the corner of your eye you can see Bakugou looking at you. A small smirk creeps up on his face.

While enjoying our little banter, you both failed to notice the Alpha towards the two of you. Until he opened his mouth. “I bet I can make your nest even better, little Omega.”

The other guy stops right in front of you, completely ignoring the Alpha next to you. You’re shocked and take a step back to create some distance between you again. But the guy doesn’t let up and steps closer again.

“No, now get lost,” you firmly say. This wasn’t the first Alpha-asshole you encountered.

“Awh, why the sour face, baby? Bet I’ll be more fun than the hedgehog here.”

“Oi, asshole! She said to get lost.” The smells of pheromones of two Alphas are dominating the air. The strongest one being the creepy guy, Bakugou’s not so much. You honestly confused on that point. With an Alpha as desirable as Bakugou, you truly expected a stronger scent.

You can’t help but release your own distressed scent. The tension is getting to you. Even other people noticed and are stopping to see how this plays out.

The creep briefly looks at Bakugou before returning his attention on you. “Come on, baby. Ditch this ��guy and then you and I can have our fun. What do you say?”

He extends his hand to put it on our waist and before you know it, you slap his hand away and punch him in the face. He stumbles back while cupping his now bleeding nose. Screaming in pain and shouting names at you. He’s beyond pissed; punched by a fucking Omega!

The adrenaline is pumping through you and every instinct in your body is telling you to run. Hide. Find an Alpha to protect you. You’re frozen on the spot. Your mind shutting down.

That’s when you feel a hand tugging you away. Your Omega recognizes the person this scent belongs to. Caramel candy apples. Bakugou.

You don’t know where he’s taking you. Your mind still processing things. All you know is to follow. ‘Cause he’ll lead to safety. Alphas keep Omegas safe. Follow. Safety. Alpha.

By the time you get to take in your surroundings, you realize you’re in an office. An office? What are you doing here? You look around and see a wooden desk with a black leather chair. A small bookcase, a closet and a couch with coffee table. A puffy black rug is covering the wooden floor, complimenting the one black wall behind you. The other walls are a tinted orange color.

The scent hanging in this office is… comforting. Soothing. Safe. You’re safe in here.

You’re seated on the couch. Wrapped in something soft. A blanket. A big, fluffy and soft blanket. The scent is even stronger on the blanket. You slowly inhale, imprinting this delicious mix of sweetness. After a couple seconds you finally notice the man next to you. Bakugou grins as he sees your focus shifting to him.

“I take it the blanket is approved,” he jokes.

You slowly nod. This small little cocoon makes you feel less vulnerable. Just like the presence of Bakugou next to you. It feels right. “Where are we?”

“Oh yeah, fuck. We’re at my agency. This is my office.”

You’re confused. “Your office? Why? I’m sorry, I kind of… froze. Can you tell me what happened afterwards?”

The smile that spreads on his face makes you feel funny inside. “What happened?! Y/N, you punched that fucker right in his fucking face! Shithead had it coming, tho. You just beat me to it. Omega or not, you know how to fight.”

You two look at each other and burst out laughing as you think back to that glorious moment. The creep definitely didn’t see your punch coming. It feels good to know the man next to you thinks you’re a decent fighter. He seems to actually be enjoying your company. Maybe he’s one of those people that are careful with who they get comfortable with. It feels good to know he feels like he can relax a bit more around you now.

You jokingly nudge him and say: “I bet I can even take you on, you big grump.”

“Oh yeah?” His eyebrow is raised, grinning with his canines on display. “Prove it then.”

Knowing a challenge when you see one, you keep your eyes fixed on his cardinal ones and slowly lean in closer. Baring your neck to the side in submission to lure in his Alpha. Your Omega is very pleased by the motion. Just as he moves to lean in too, you throw the blanket in his face, grab his neck and shove him down on the ground. Stradling him and jabbing your elbow into his side, pressing your nails into the skin of his neck.

Smiling down at the man below you; “How’s that, Alpha?”

A short lived victory as he snarls and the two of you roll over, with Bakugou keeping you pinned underneath his weight. He may not look like it, but this man weighs a ton!

“If you’re trying to be a worthy opponent, why not call me by my first name? It’s ‘Katsuki’,” he breathes heavily atop of you.

Next to your ear you hear a low grumbling sound. Still seeing this as a playfight you laugh and reach back. Your fingers finding pressure points in his neck, making him let go of you. This gives you the chance to overpower him again and straddle him once more while holding his wrists above his head.

Victorious once again, you look down. Growling and teeth bared, the air around you growing thick. The smell surrounding you hits you like thunder. The caramelized candy apple scent overwhelming your senses. Your eyes travel down to his neck and see something you failed to notice before; gland patches. Patches to block someone’s scent from becoming too noticeable. That’s why the other Alpha smelled so much stronger. But now, now you’re drowning in it. You can pick up on rage, possessiveness and… arousal. As much as he’s growling and snarling at you, you know that he’s enjoying this too.

Chuckling at you, he cranes his neck. His face now closer to you than a moment ago. “I’m pretty sure I just got my ass handed by the most perfect Omega.” His words push through the alarm bells his instincts are sending off. His Alpha is not pleased about being pinned down. But as it takes in the Omega’s scent of peaches and hazelnuts, it can’t help but lie down and surrender itself to this tasty smelling Omega. An Omega that can fight back. An Omega that can hold him close. An Omega worthy of carrying his pups.

His Omega.

Before either can properly get out any words Bakugou has wrestled his hands free and grabs a hold of your hips while your hands pull his face closer and seal the distance between your lips. The taste of sugar coated apples is even stronger on his lips and you can’t get enough of it.

His fingers press deeply in your skin, kneading the flesh. His hips pushing upwards while holding you in place. The low rumbling sound in the back of his throat being accompanied by your mewling. You wanted more of him, your Omega needed more.

The Alpha makes his displeasure heard. You both part to breathe in fresh air. His lidded eyes are on fire and following every movement you make. Your hands slip down to his collarbones and settle on his shoulders. The path of your hands make Bakugou throw back his head. His body is pressing into yours desperately, like he has no control over it anymore. His growling increases in volume.

Through gritted teeth he manages to speak to you. “Fuck, Omega. What are you doing to me?”

Taking a leap of faith, you answer: “I don’t know. All I know right now is that I need capable Alpha to take care of me. Are you that Alpha, Katsuki?”

Before you can even blink, you’re being rolled over again. This time you’ll let him have his way. His hands are sliding their way up to your chest, grabbing the front of your shirt and tearing it apart. You try to protest, but you’re stopped by the warning growl of his Alpha. You lay back down and occupy yourself with running your fingers through his hair. Your gently massage making the Alpha let out a content sound.

Entranced by the man above you, you hardly even notice his onslaught on your clothes. And his own clothes. Getting those replaced will be a worry for later, your Omega decide. All you need to focus on right now is Katsuki. You want this Alpha to mate you and it needs to happen right now, or else your Omega just might perish on the spot.

That’s when you feel it. The hard and heavy feeling of his cock rutting itself against your core. Your body can’t help but react to it and release a good amount of slick. Katsuki’s mouth nipping along your collarbones as your bare you neck in submission. You feel his fangs graze your scent glands and you start to whimper desperately.

“Fuck, Y/N. Keep making those pretty noises,” Katsuki says.

“Yes, Alpha, yes. Just-ah shit! Just fuck me already!” you loudly exclaim.

Now who is Katsuki to deny such a nice plea from such a good Omega?

Wasting no time, he slides himself inside. The stretch making you cry out for more, deeper, more, anything he can give you. You just know you need more. Barely able to hold himself back from ramming himself inside and fucking you like you’re in a heat, he takes his time for your to fully take him in. A sigh of satisfaction leaves you both when he finally does.

Your legs wrap around his waist and try to pull him deeper in. Your fingers curl around his spikey locks and tug harshly to get him moving. Grunting, Katsuki finally complies. Being buried inside you sends him into over-drive. You feel too damn good around him. He feels too good inside you as he sets in a brutal rhythm. You’re pretty sure no other man could ever make you feel this good. No other Alpha could ever please your Omega ever again. Feeling his body slam into yours like his life depends on it is possibly the best feeling in the world. Your lungs are sending out a mix of his name, pleas for more, for him to go faster.

Katsuki can’t help it, he can’t stop himself anymore. He need to do this, he needs you, his Alpha needs to mate your Omega. Give her everything she wants and all that she’ll take. Only the best for his Omega, he will be worthy of giving her pups.

You can feel the base of his cock starting to inflate. His knot. His knot is growing. As soon as you notice, you start to claw at his back. A need filling you till the point you’re almost bursting.

“Alpha! Knot, please- Alpha, knot me- I need- Need your knot, Alpha!” you scream in desperation.

He wants to. Oh, he wants to so badly. But in the back of his mind there’s one braincell left that tells him that now is not the time nor the place. His Omega deserves better.

“You deserve better than to be knotted in my office, Y/N,” he moans, “please give me a chance to give you something better one day. I’ll be the best fucking Alpha there is!”

You love the sound of that. Something better. Somewhere in the future. A future with Katsuki. “Yes, Kastuki! Only you, you’re the only Alpha, please, I’m so cl-“

The moment he sinks his teeth into the flesh just above your collarbone, you’re send into a world of blinding lights and exploding fire. His name keeps falling from your lips. The waves of fire keep pulsing through your body.

The tight grip around him becomes too much for Katsuki. He needs to pull out or else he’ll knot you for sure. When he you keep chanting his name, he pulls out and covers you in thick, long, white streams of his cum. Covering you in his seed, marking you as his in an obscene, but beautiful way.

“Look at you, perfectly covered in my cum,” he pants.

You preen at the compliment. A content scent is released. The smell of a happily fucked Omega. Katsuki could get addicted to this smell.

With the shredded pieces of clothing he cleans you up. He pulls the blanket you discarded earlier over you both as he lies down next to you. Your tired and warm body cuddles closer to him. He drinks in your scent a you purr softly.

“What did you have the blanket for in your office?” you ask with a yawn.

Katsuki looks down at your half-asleep face. A smile forms on his lips as he gently kisses the top of your head.

“I kept it for my future mate.”

Tagged: @reinawritesbnha @thots4daze @hipster-merchant-of-death @aizawascumslut @strawbirb @ravenfeet222 @sailor-manga @yanderart @league-of-villians-headcanons

#bnha #bnha fic #mha fic #bnha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki #alpha bakugou #alpha bakugou katsuki #alpha bakugou x reader #michiiee writes #bnha smut #bnha a/b/o #omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #bakugou x reader #plus ultra #bakugou fic #bakugou smut

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platoniclokiimagines · 2 years

Note

just,,, braiding loki's hair and putting flowers and stuff in it? thats all. do with that what you will :D 👍

A/N: This was so Soft to write. Thank you for requesting it.

WC: 1200

Rating: G

TW: None

When you had suggested the idea of braiding Loki’s hair, it really hadn’t seemed like such a big deal. Thor wore braids in his hair all the time, and you’d even seen Hela allowing Loki to braid hers, an honor that only Loki had been entrusted with, as far as you could tell, and you had to admit, they were quite good at it.

So one afternoon after Loki had finished with Hela’s hair, you sidled up to where they were still sat, hands behind your back as you twisted back and forth on the spot.

“Hey, Loki?”

“Whatever it is, the answer is no.”

You pouted dramatically. “That’s no fair, I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“Please, I can practically feel the mischief emanating from of you.”

“Oh, is that a special skill that comes with being the God of Mischief?” you teased, flopping down next to them on the couch.

“No, it’s a special skill that comes with centuries of causing mischief,” Loki jabbed back, finally looking over at you. “Go on, then, I’m listening.”

You beamed, now that you were in the clear. “Can I braid your hair?”

Loki seemed taken aback by the request. “Beg pardon?”

“Your hair? Can I braid it? I watch you braid Hela’s all the time, and I know Thor wears them, too. I just wanna see how you look in them.” You put on your best puppy dog pout, the one you knew Loki had little chance of arguing with. “Pleeeease?”

“Why would you want to do that?” Loki seemed genuinely confused at the idea, and you found yourself shrugging in response.

“Just do.”

Loki narrowed their eyes as they regarded you, seemingly trying to find out what your true motive was. “…and what will this braiding entail?”

Leave it Loki to know you didn’t just want to braid it. “Well, I was gonna wash and dry it for you, and then braid it, and then… maybeputsomeflowersinit?” You rushed the last bit in the hopes that Loki would gloss over it, but as luck would have it, they did not.

“Flowers? You want to put flowers in my hair?”

“Just once. Just this once. Pleeeeease? I won’t even take any pictures.” That they would see, anyway.

Loki looked at you appraisingly for a long moment, and then finally gave a huff of a sigh. “You will, but fine.”

You beamed. “Yes. Can I do it now? You’ve still got the hair ties out, anyway, and there’s all kinds of flowers out on the ground. I’ll even let you pick them out.”

“...of course you can.” Loki was putting on a big show of looking like there were a thousand other things they would rather be doing at the moment, but you could tell that they were happy to be making you happy.

Half an hour later and you’d gathered some flowers with Loki, gone through the process of washing and drying their hair, and were back in the living room, Loki sitting on the floor in front of you while you sat where they’d previously been sitting on one side of the couch.

“You know, I didn’t take you for a sunflower kind of a person,” you admitted, looking over at the bunch of flowers ready to be added to Loki’s hair.

“…they were my mother’s favorite.”

The both of you got quiet for a long moment. Loki rarely talked about their mother, fondly or sadly, as it was a topic that weighed on all three of the Odinkids to varying extents. And you didn’t ever want to say the wrong thing when she was mentioned, so you usually just let one of them do the talking until the topic of conversation changed.

“…I think it’ll look nice right at the back of your head, at the top of the braid? And then we’ll add some of the other flowers along the back as we go down.”

Loki nodded once, and settled down to sit still as you got a comb and sectioned off their hair so that you could begin to braid it.

A small part of you had banked on Loki being a little more restless while you were working. Had expected them to be their usual, mischief-making self and make comments or squirm and refuse to sit still, causing you to have to stop every five seconds to remind them to stop moving. But the second that you started braiding, they fell incredibly still and silent. You almost wanted to check to make sure they hadn’t stopped breathing.

“…you can still talk, you know,” you murmured, feeling the need to match Loki’s quietness as you tucked the sunflower into the beginning of the braid.

“Are you saying you’re not enjoying the peace and quiet?” That sounded more like Loki being Loki, and you couldn’t help but to smile.

“That’s putting words into my mouth.” You huffed out a quiet laugh, and Loki did the same before falling silent again, and this time, you did the same. It made it easier to focus, anyway, and you had to agree, it was rather peaceful, just braiding their hair in the calm silence of the living room.

You worked for a half hour, sectioning of parts of the braid to make smaller braids and weaving them all together with the different flowers Loki had chosen. They’d actually picked out quite the variety from the flower garden on the grounds. There was the sunflower they’d chosen, but there were also some daisies, some peonies, and even a hydrangea, which had given you a slightly difficult time with settling into Loki’s hair, but by the time you finished, you were rather impressed with your own work.

You couldn’t resist taking a picture of the back of it, even though you’d told Loki you wouldn’t, but you wanted to remember how nice it looked. There was something about the way that the bright colors of the flowers looked against the inky black of their hair that just made it look all the more beautiful.

“…you should wear your hair like this more often,” you declared, handing Loki a hand mirror so they could see the back of their hair in a mirror that you were holding.

“What, so Thor and Hela can tease me about it to no end? No, thank you.” Once again, Loki was acting tough, but you could see the smile in their eyes as they turned their head back and forth, so they could see more of the flowers in their reflection. “…it does look nice, though.”

You smiled, setting the mirror down and scooting down to sit on the floor next to them. “Doesn’t it? I don’t think I’ll ever manage to make something look that nice ever again.”

Now it was Loki’s turn to give you an exaggerated look of offense. “Are you saying I’m not good looking without the flowers in my hair?”

You grinned, and braced your hands on the floor, already preparing to bolt. “Yes.”

You could only imagine how silly you looked to the rest of the team, shrieking as you darted through the Compound being chased by Loki with flowers in their hair.

#Loki imagine #platonic Loki imagine #Loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #Loki x reader #platonic!Loki x reader #anonymous #ask #answered #soft #fluff #thank you for the ask!

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bubblyhoney · 3 years

Note

can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk

places i used to go

warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 2191

A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd

inbox/requests: open

The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.

“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.

“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.

“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”

You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.

You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.

“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”

“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.

“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.

The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.

“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.

“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.

“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.

“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.

“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.

“Are you—?”

“What?” You reply right back.

“Nothing.”

Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.

“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.

“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”

You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.

“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.

“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.

The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.

“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.

“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”

“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”

“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.

Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.

Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.

“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.

You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.

“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.

“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.

“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.

The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.

“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.

You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.

“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”

You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”

He just smirks.

“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”

“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”

He just shrugs and continues down the side street.

“Is this the park you were talking about?”

He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.

“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”

“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”

It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.

“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.

“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.

You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.

“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.

“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.

You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.

“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.

You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.

You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x gn!reader #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap drabble #sapnap one shot #sapnap oneshot #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #honey answers #my lovely anon #sapnap fanfic #bubblyhoneyfics

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

Text

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter One

Chapter One: The Other Wilson Sister - chapter two

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n grew up with Sam and Sarah Wilson in the bayou of Delacroix. During the Blip she stayed with Sarah to help run the family business. With Sam back and trying to save the day, Y/n’s perfect opportunity to confess her long-kept secret to her best friend presents itself.

Warnings: tfatws ep.1 spoilers, language, suicide mention, undertones of racism, lots of Wilson sibling arguments, tragic backstory

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: As I wrote this first chapter out I realized it’s most definitely also a Sam Wilson x platonic fic. Bucky doesn’t come in till next chapter but rest assured, it’s gonna be a wild ride...Also I didn’t know till now how difficult it is to plan out a series in its entirety when the show isn’t completed lol. Hope you enjoy! (I may or may not change the title depending on how I feel about it later today lol)

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Delacroix, LA 2024

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One of the only things I was certain of in life was that blood didn’t make a family.

I had no official tie to Wilson family, I wasn’t a daughter or some distant cousin sent to live with them. We shared no DNA and they had no reason to love me as much as they did. But throughout my life I had known no kinder people than them and I doubted that would change. As I stood on the family boat helping to unload the catch of the day, I thought of how our corner of the Louisiana bayou felt more like home than any place I’d ever been.

“Hey,” Sarah said from the dock, “Head out of the clouds and down here helping me.” “Sorry,” I shook myself out of my thoughts and hopped off the boat, “Not a bad catch if you ask me.”

Sarah sighed as she bent over a large bucket of fish, “It could’ve been better.” I came to stand in front of her and held my hands out for a bucket, “Take the wins where you can get ‘em, Sar. Lord knows we don’t get enough of them.” Sarah Wilson was the only superhero I’d ever aspire to be like. She was a widow who had raised two kids and run a business all by herself with no family for support. The past five years had been challenging with so many people gone and while I had moved in with her to help however I could, I could take no credit. She was one of the strongest women I’d ever known.

“You had that look on your face again,” she said as we worked.

“What look?”

“That look that lets me know you were thinking real hard about something,” Sarah imitated the expression in question by thinning her eyes slightly and furrowing her brows, “Like this.” I laughed heartily at her impression, “So what was it?” I gazed out at the bayou waters before turning to the boat and finally Sarah, “Family.”

She nudged me with her hip, something we’d done when we were young and an affectionate gesture we’d carried into adulthood. A half hour went by with us and the boys unloading and sorting the fish we’d caught. I was too wrapped up in the task to notice the sound of a vehicle approaching until AJ and Cass announced the arrival.

“Blue for the snapper, orange for the whitefish.”

“Uncle Sam!”

My head shot up upon hearing his name, as did Sarah’s. I used my hand as a visor against to sun to spot the familiar rusted truck parked a few hundred feet away, with my best friend standing outside it hugging his nephews.

“That’s right, Uncle Sam,” Sarah called, “You’re back early.”

I grinned as I shucked my gloves off and made a beeline for him, slamming my body into his for a tight embrace. It had been a few weeks since I’d seen him, having spent the only weekend he was off away, and I’d naturally been worried sick about him. My best friend and un-biological brother may have been an Avenger for years, but after losing him in the Blip I didn’t think I’d ever stop worrying about him.

“Every time I come home, you act like I’ve been gone for five years,” he joked over my shoulder, resulting in me pulling away and slapping his bicep.

“Not even a little funny,” I pointed a finger in his smug face, he slung an arm around my neck as we walked over to Sarah.

“What’s goin’ on? You got Mom’s sneaky look on your face.” “How you gonna try to read me when you know I’m the one that reads you?” Sam smiled, passing by and greeting a long time customer of ours. “That look is permanently glued to his face, Sar,” I chuckled, “I learned that in grade school.” Sam shook his head at me and laughed before making his way up the dock to the Wilson family boat. “You gotta marvel at it, baby’s being held together by duct tape and prayers.” I leaned into Sarah, “Are you telling him or am I?” She took the initiative, “It just needs to float long enough for me to sell it.” “I thought we were gonna discuss if we were selling it,” Sam replied as he helped unload another bucket of fish. “We did, and then you were off fighting Doctor Space Cape or whatever while we,” Sarah gestured between us, “Were holdin’ it together for five long years. Now that the world is going back to normal, this thing’s gotta go.”

Sam looked to me with a look of displeasure, “Were you in on this?” “Don’t drag me into this,” I waved my hands as if wiping my involvement away, “This is a Wilson sibling discussion.” “Uh-uh,” Sam called me out, wagging his finger, “Don’t do that. Dad said every chance he got that you were one of his own, you’ve got a say in this too. What is it?” I scrunched my face up, dreading the argument that was knocking on our door, “It’s dead weight, Sam. The money we could get for it would be enough to keep us comfortable for a little longer without having to worry.” “We grew up on this thing. It’s not just Mom and Dad’s name on it. This thing is a part of our family.”

I sighed as Sarah stepped forward, “You know the situation we’re in. This is why I prefer not to dwell on it in front of everybody.” “Well what if we don’t need to sell it?” Sam said. “Can we talk about this in private?” I suggested, tiring of having to convince Sam that we were in the right when he hadn’t been around to witness our struggles. A long time friend of ours called out to Sam and he willingly took the distraction, opting out of having the inevitable difficult conversation. Sarah and I trudged back, totes of fish in hand and tried to get through the rest of the work day without worrying if we were approaching our last.

————

During golden hour, when the clock had struck five and we’d started packing it up for the day was the only time to get Sam to actually listen. I knew how much the boat meant to him, it meant something to us all, but he wasn’t living in the reality that Sarah and I were.

“Sam, the boat’s gotta go,” Sarah finally said, breaking the silence we were working in on the vessel. “Wait-“ “No, let me finish,” she said, “Y/n and I are doin’ everything I can to keep this business afloat and every day we’re making $5 and spending $10.” Sam looked between the two of us, “So why won’t you let me help?”

“Sam, don’t…” I winced, knowing Sarah’s reaction would be strong.

“No, don’t start with that. We made a deal before Daddy died,” Sarah carried a few buckets to the center of the deck, “You’re out there, I do things my way here. Y/n agreed to it too when she went off to school.” “Right, but you tangled the house into this when you took those loans,” Sam finished tying off one of the ropes, turning around and giving Sarah the perfect opportunity to punch his chest, “Forgot how hard you hit.” I sighed as I passed him by to follow Sarah, “Low blow, you deserved it.”

“Sarah, Y/n, c’mon,” he chased after us, “Look, and don’t hit me again…What if you had money to fix it up? Make it nice so you can charter it when you’re not out working the waters?” “Sam, do you think this was an easy decision for us?” I faced him, leaning against the doorway next to him, “I tried every tactic I learned in business school and got nowhere. Anything I thought up, we needed more money to do. This is our only option.” As he always did with the things he cared about, he fought. “We can take a loan and consolidate everything, it’ll take down your monthly,” he looked confused as he watched Sarah laugh, “What?” “You think I didn’t try the banks? They’re in with all that big business now.” I followed them like the little sister I’d always been as they moved their fight towards the cockpit of the boat. Sam blocked another doorway, “Yeah, but now you have me.”

“Don’t, Sam,” Sarah shook her head, “I just got good with this.”

“All right…”

“Maybe it is time for us to move on,” Sarah sighed. “Either way, just let me help,” Sam offered, “I’ll set the appointment. Look, I won’t let you guys down. We can turn this shit around. Trust me.” I peered over at Sarah, wishing I could see the calculations going on in her brain. It seemed pointless, but any shot at changing our luck was an avenue worth pursuing.

“It can’t hurt to try,” I shrugged.

Sarah finally relented, “To the rescue, huh?”

“Always,” Sam smiled, “Now, let’s get some dinner. I’m hungry.” ————

Sarah was taking AJ and Cass back home while Sam and I took his truck to go pick up food.

“So how was Tunisia?” I asked, sticking my hand out the window and letting it rise and fall with the wind.

“Hot, but the mission went well,” he answered, looking out of the corner of his eyes at me, “And that’s all you need to know.”

I snickered, “C’mon, it’s our thing. I ask you detailed questions about your confidential missions, you tell me you can’t reveal anything, I keep asking…You’ve gotta honor tradition.” “I flew, I fought, I rescued. Boom, mission explained.” “Ugh, you’re impossible, Wilson,” I waved him off, “How was the museum dedication?” The atmosphere changed as the subject of conversation changed from easy to complicated. “It was nice to see Steve’s accomplishments celebrated. Got to see Rhodes which was nice…” “You’re avoiding a red white and blue topic,” I said, trying to coax his true feelings out of their shells, “Seriously, are you really okay with this? Giving up the shield?” Sam inhaled deeply and exhaled, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think it was ever meant to end up in my hands. I did the right thing, it belongs with Steve and the museum is the closest to Steve I can get.” I respected my friend’s choice but I knew there was so much more to his decision and I wished he would just say it. He had an enormous amount of respect for Steve Rogers and what the shield represented, but Steve Rogers never had to face the issues that Sam Wilson did. Steve Rogers could follow a government and be respected in return with no problems whatsoever. Sam Wilson couldn’t, not always. There was an elephant in the room and if neither of us wanted to talk about it, I wouldn’t push it.

“You’d have looked good in that uniform though,” I smiled as we turned into the take out place’s parking lot.

“Damn right,” Sam waggled his eyebrows and unbuckled his seatbelt. Laughter rang out in the truck sending me on waves of nostalgia. The memories that me and him had in this truck still were infamous between us. As proud as I was of the Falcon’s heroics, I was prouder to call Sam Wilson my best friend.

————

Just as he’d promised, Sam made the appointment with the banker. He and Sarah were already on their way as I made the hour long drive in the opposite direction to New Orleans. I’d told them I’d be back in the evening to discuss how it went, but I had my own appointment to keep.

Sam and I had met back when we were just a couple of first graders. I’d always struggled with making friends as a kid, but Sam never had an issue when it came to connecting with others. It was one of his strongest qualities. And so he used his gift on his desk neighbor, the loneliest kid in class, and pulled her out of herself. We were inseparable until college and adulthood forced us apart, but we’d never lost our bond. Even when he was a pararescue, he wrote to me as often as his work allowed him.

All the Wilsons had taken a liking to me after Sam brought me home one day after school to watch cartoons. Darlene had told me I was welcome to come over any time I wanted, an offer Sam and I accepted till I became a permanent fixture in their house. Paul and his wife had frequently tried to get the rest of my family over for a crawfish boil or a barbecue. They’d send me every few weeks with a verbal invitation to my parents and the next day I’d always come back with a polite decline and excuse as to why we couldn’t make it. Mom was busy with spring cleaning, Melanie had a recital, Dad was feeling under the weather…

The only one that had ever been true was about my dad not feeling well. He was never well. But as a child, how do you explain that your father is a ghost around his own home who drinks himself to sleep and wakes up each night screaming from nightmares? There was no polite way to phrase circumstances that dark. Sometimes I felt like my dad had never returned from the military and though there hadn’t been a war at the time of his service, he still came back with his share of trauma. Mom did everything she could to try and help him. She found support groups for veterans, she took him to the best psychiatrists, she created a safe space for him within our home to retreat to. There was no amount of help that could kill my father’s demons and that was proven the night he’d said we were out of milk and he was going to the store. A few hours later, with my sister and I fast asleep upstairs, my worried mother answered the door and was informed by the police that my father had crashed his car and was dead. After speaking to Mom about what his mood had been like before he’d left and if he suffered from any mental illnesses, it was ruled as an undoubtable suicide.

My mother didn’t get much time to mourn after the funeral, she had two children to provide for. She took three jobs just to earn enough to move us from our house in New Orleans to a dingy apartment in Delacroix by the bayou. When the Wilsons heard that Mom needed to scrape enough money in the budget to hire a baby-sitter for me and Melanie, they put a stop to her efforts immediately. The insisted that Mel and I would be happier spending the time my mom was working with them and their kids rather than a stranger. That was how the Wilsons and the Y/l/ns had ended up so tightly knit. While Sarah and Melanie had bonded as the older sisters and were often off doing their own thing, Sam and I caused havoc of our own in classic younger sibling fashion. By the time we were in high school, both parents called the other’s children their own.

When Paul and Darlene passed away, it was incredibly hard on all of us and it was equal when Mom had a fall and the doctors suggested she move into a facility. Sam, Sarah and I had worked hard to get her into one of the best nursing homes in the city and she hadn’t stopped raving about how much she loved it. Pulling into the parking lot was like muscle memory now, I never missed a weekend visit with her. This one was special because Melanie, her husband and brood of children had come too. I grabbed my visitor’s sticker at the front desk and made my way down the familiar hallways. The sound of laughter and cooing echoed out of my mom’s room, bringing a smile to my face.

I knocked on the door and heads turned, my nieces and nephews being the quickest. “Aunt Y/n!” I embraced Sophia and Max tightly, “The twin tornados! I missed you guys,” separating from them was difficult as they clung to me but I made it to Stephan, giving him a kiss on the cheek and doing the same to Mel, “You look hot, mama.” “I certainly don’t feel it,” she remarked as she cradled their newest addition, baby Alexandra, close to her chest, “I spend more hours of the day covered in glitter glue and spit up than you could imagine.” “You wear it all well,” I patted her shoulder before coming to my mother’s bedside and hugging her, “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she kissed both of my cheeks and looked to the door, “Sarah and Sam couldn’t come?” “No, but they send their love. They had an appointment at the bank,” I set down my purse and pulled up a chair, “We’re trying to get approved for a small business loan.”

Glen took Alexandra from Mel so she could tend to the twins, “I wish we could help out, Y/n. I’ve looked at the budget over and-“ It warmed my heart that my brother-in-law cared so much about a problem that wasn’t his to bear. “Glen,” I held up a hand, “You guys are stretched thin enough. This isn’t me asking for charity, it’s our problem and Sam’s confidant we’ll find a fix.” “How does he have enough time to be a member of the Air Force, an Avenger and save the family business?” Mel asked.

“Well, the Avengers are kind of off doing their own thing right now from what I understand and he’s home for a little while from the Air Force,” I explained, “So his main job at the moment is to get us our funding and annoy the snot out of me while doing it.” After earning some giggles from Sophia and Max at the expression, Glen announced that they were going to go and grab lunch for everybody. My mom took my hand once it was just the two of us and I settled into my seat, “How are you, sweetheart?”

“Hanging in there,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair, “Tired, stressed, I smell like fish most of the time…We need this loan or else we’re going to have to sell the boat. You should’ve seen Sam’s face when Sarah told him…”

“I’m sorry, I know how much that boat means to you kids. I could’ve offered you the moon and stars and it still wouldn’t have been enough to get you off it.” I smiled at the memories of summer nights spent laying on the deck stargazing, dance parties on the stern and early mornings spent with Mr. Wilson teaching us how to fish. A childhood with so much sadness had also contained so many joys. To part with a tangible one killed me more than I’d let on to Sam.

Sensing that the topic was making me emotional, my mother was kind enough to change it. “How are things otherwise? Have you been getting out there?” I dropped my head back dramatically and groaned, “Mom…” “I’m just saying,” she dropped my hand and held up hers in surrender, “You should get out there, meet someone. There’s no shame in trying those online dating services. What’s the one…the…Tinder?” “Oh my gosh, Mom,” I buried my face in my hands and moved my fingers so she could only see my eyes, “Please stop talking.” “You know who I ran into the other day? Jack’s mom, from high school. She lives just down the next hallway, she says that he’s still single. You could get in touch with him.” “Y’know, for a woman who advocated for her daughters to lead such independent lives, you’re sure quick to try and marry us off,” I chuckled, “The second Mel started dating Glen you were practically booking the church.” “And I’m very proud of both my girls for being such strong young women,” she smiled proudly, “But finding love doesn’t mean losing your independence so long as you’re with the right man. I love that you’ve been helping out Sarah these last few years but honey…I see how lonely you are. In those big y/e/c eyes you think I still can’t read after all these years.” The y/e/c eyes in question started to fill with sadness at hearing my pain verbalized. It was true, I was lonely. More so than I would ever let on to anybody. I was a shy enough kid who only withdrew further after Dad passed away, that kind of introversion wasn’t one that you outgrew. But I’d given up the idea of finding someone to spend my life with a long time ago for a bevy of reasons.

“Sometimes it’s better to be alone, Mama,” I nodded as if to force myself to agree with my statement, “No chances of getting hurt…or hurting somebody.” “You couldn’t hurt somebody even if you tried,” my mom argued sweetly, “You couldn’t even kill spiders when you were a kid.” “And now there’s a Spiderman out there so I’m glad I didn’t,” I shot back with a laugh.

“I’m serious, honey,” she took my hand once again, “Don’t let your heart’s wounds keep you from finding someone who could help soothe them.”

I was convinced my mother was both a poet and a therapist at some point in her life, she gave advice in the most beautifully phrased way. And while I’d loved to have taken her words to heart, tell Mel to fix me up with one of Glen’s friends and put an end to my loneliness, I feared that I was just too broken to give love to someone.

————

I arrived back home late, shedding my boots and bag at the doors. I’d expected to hear a triumphant chorus of Sam shouting ‘WHO DA MAN?’ as he typically would when heroically proving me and Sarah wrong, but there was only silence. When I walked into the kitchen and saw their glum faces, it wasn’t hard to guess the outcome of the meeting. “You’re kidding me…” “Said that things had tightened up,” Sam said, leaning against one side of the island and taking a swig of his beer, “Had the balls to ask me for a picture afterwards.” I groaned and grabbed the beer bottle Sarah had extended to me, “Okay, we’re out of options. It’s time to move forward-“ “Don’t say it…” Sam tiredly warned.

“Someone has to, Sam. We can’t keep searching for solutions when the right one is sitting out on our dock,” I gestured to the window that looked out on the road we took each day to work.

Sarah set her beer down and held her hands up in surrender, “I’m not having this argument again tonight, I’m going to bed. If you’re gonna kill each other, do it quietly.” She left as me and Sam silently stared each other down, waiting for the other to speak. I was too frustrated to play the game, “What’s this really about?” “It’s about the damn boat and that you and Sarah are throwing in the towel too-“ “What,” I elongated the single syllable word, “Is this really about?” Sam set his drink down and rubbed his hands over his head before looking back up at me helplessly, “You guys were on your own for five years and you’ve done an amazing job. But now nothing’s working and I just…I just want to help because I couldn’t for so long.” It all clicked as to why Sam was being so insistent on trying to eliminate the whole matter. He was used to saving the day and finally meeting one that he couldn’t save was a wall he thought he could still find a way to run through. He’d been like that ever since we were kids, always trying to help the people he loved even when it was impossible. He had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met.

“I love you,” I set down my bottle and crossed the island to come next to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, “But this may be one problem that the Falcon can’t swoop in and fix. The Avengers work hard, but a business graduate helping to run a struggling seafood business works harder,” I succeeded in getting him to crack a smile, “Believe me, I’ve run all the numbers and consulted with anyone who would listen. The boat’s gotta go.”

“Yeah, well, humor me and give me a little while longer.”

“Fine, a couple more days,” I grabbed my beer once again and clinked it against his, “But it’s not my fault if Sarah smacks you again.” Sam laughed, slung an arm around my neck and kissed my temple. “You coming up soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be up in a few minutes,” I answered, watching as he finished his drink before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs. Once I’d heard his bedroom door open and close, I exited out to the back porch. I took in the late night sounds of the bayou, the crickets chirping and the wind rustling trees had always soothed me. I wished they could touch what I was feeling right now, but the noise didn’t do a thing to drown out my worry. For the business I feared we may lose, for Sam as he ran himself ragged trying to help and for myself and what him and Sarah would think of me once I confessed the secret I’d kept from them for so long.

I held out my hand and watched as the blue energy flowed from my fingertips. Would Sam ever forgive me for not telling him I had powers? They had manifested when I was young, my parents said. I couldn’t remember a day where my body hadn’t produced a magical energy that when harnessed incorrectly could be destructive. It had been a sad day for my mother’s garden when I’d discovered that bit…According to her, she’d wanted to take me to a school for people like me run by a man named Charles Xavier but my father had said no immediately. He’d been so insistent on keeping my powers a secret that my mother said she’d only seen that type of fear in his eyes when he had a war flashback. So I was instructed to never show my powers to anyone under any circumstances and I’d done just that. I’d thought about revealing them in 2012 after the Battle of New York, but my dad’s fear rang in my ears. Three years later when Sam became an Avenger was when I began to feel guilty that I was keeping a secret from him. I’d wanted to join him and find somewhere where I didn’t feel so out of place, but I’d decided against it again. Now with their team so broken and Sam off with the Air Force, I’d finally gathered the courage to confide in him and Sarah. I should have done it six months ago, but I’d chickened out too many times. Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow was the day. But would they still see me the same way once I showed them? ————

The next morning, after dressing and running over what I wanted to say three times, I hesitantly headed downstairs to face the music. With there being nobody in the kitchen, I followed the sounds of the television to find Sarah and Sam staring at the screen intently. I stood to the side of the room and watched a suited man give a speech out front of a government building. “We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.”

My jaw slackened as a man marched out in front of the gathered press, dressed in a variation of Steve Rogers’ patriotic uniform and carrying the iconic shield. The shield that had only weeks ago sat upstairs in Sam’s bedroom in a case. I dragged my gaze away from the screen to look at my best friend, hunched over in his seat with his eyes shut in sorrow. Sarah looked just as distraught, her eyes trained on her brother as well. We waited in silence until the breaking news broadcast switch back to regularly scheduled programming before Sarah switched the box off.

“I thought you said it was going to stay in the museum,” I finally spoke, my voice choked with emotion.

“It was supposed to,” Sam ground out, his grip on his own hands tightening. Without any warning, he rose from his seat and left the room. My instinct was to follow him and try to comfort him, but there was nothing I could say to ease the deep pain he was feeling. I wasn’t even sure I could form words that weren’t doused in raw shock. The two things I was sure of were that a) the government had fucked up royally and b) now was definitely not the time to tell Sam about my powers.

————

It was a few days later and Sam still hadn’t spoken much to Sarah and I about the situation. It was unnatural for Sam to suffer in silence especially around us, but we both gave him the space he needed.

I was taking laundry to AJ and Cass’ room and had to pass by Sam’s, surprised to see him packing a bag. “Thought you were sticking around.” “Something big came up,” he replied as he set a stack of t-shirts in his duffle bag, “I need to go check it out.” I leaned against his doorway, “Air Force big or Avengers big?” “The second one.” “And you’re going by yourself?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

Sam looked over his shoulder at me finally, “Don’t have anybody to else to call. Besides, I can handle myself.” I hummed in response before setting down the stack of laundry, an idea forming in my head that could solve both of our problems. I folded my hands together and dug my feet into the carpet, “What if you didn’t have to go by yourself?” He looked confused, “What are you talking about?” My folded hands began to make circles in the air as I struggled for the right words, “What if I came with you?” “What, like take your family to work day something?” Sam scoffed, “That’d be fun.” “I’m serious.” “Are you crazy? Of course you can’t come.” “Hear me out,” I looked to his bag and the pair of jeans he had next to fold, “Actually watch.” He folded his arms and waited for my demonstration. I took a deep breath and extended my hand, forcing my energy outwards to levitate the jeans. “Whoa!” Sam exclaimed as he watched me maneuver the clothing inside his duffle, “W-w-what…What was that?” I shrugged and pulled my hand back to my side, “The reason why you should take me.”

“How long have you been able to do that?” “Since I was a kid,” I moved out of the doorway and closed the door, the last thing I needed was AJ and Cass knowing their aunt could move things with her mind, “My parents told me never to tell anybody. I’ve thought about telling you for years since you’re used to this kind of thing but I was scared…Then you were gone and when you came back, life was moving non-stop and I lost my courage. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Sam stood with his jaw hung for a few seconds before shaking his head back into reality, “Why are you apologizing? You never had to tell me, but I’m glad you did,” he pointed a finger towards me, “But you’re still not going.” “What are you talking about? I’d be an asset to whatever it is you’re fighting! And I love you but c’mon bird boy, you may be able to fly but I can do it without any tech.” “Oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” Sam gestured between the two of us, “You think insulting me is the way to get me to let you come?” “Come on,” I moved to sit on his bed, “Tell me what the problem is and I’ll prove that I can help.” “Alright, alright,” Sam took a stance in front of me, “You wanted to hear the tea on my missions, I’ll spill it. There’s an online group called the Flag Smashers, their MO is to get the world back to the way it was during the last five years. My military contact, Torres, went undercover in Switzerland when they robbed a bank. Knocked him unconscious when he tried to fight back.” I balanced my elbows on my knees and tapped a finger against my lip, “So kind of a Robin Hood deal, right? Stealing things from the rich and giving it to the poor. In this case, the poor being those who never disappeared.” “Exactly, except the guy that knocked Torres out was strong. Too strong. I’m thinking they could be a part of-“ “The big three.” Sam’s neck snapped back, “How do you know about the big three?” I shrugged nonchalantly, “The little you do tell me about your avenging always ties back to either androids, aliens or wizards. Though I think you’re being a little dramatic with the term ‘wizard.’”

“Are you seriously gonna correct the guy who’s actually there doing the fighting?” “Are you seriously gonna deny yourself valuable help against either an alien or an android?”

Sam sighed, I was successfully backing him into a corner. “Can you even fight?”

Extending one hand, I levitated Sam and gently slammed his back into the ceiling before reversing course and lowering him onto the carpet. He moaned as he rolled over to face me, “Could’ve given me a concussion.” “Maybe that would knock some sense into your head,” I stood and gave him my hand to pull him up, “Sam, I know that I don’t have any experience but I am more than capable of defending myself. I want to actually do something with these powers instead of sitting on my ass. I’d rather do it with you than on my own. Please?” I watched the cogs in his mind turn through his eyes, I knew he was only fighting this hard because he wanted to keep me safe. But he was in way over his head if he thought it wasn’t worth taking me with. He accepted my hand and stood to his full height, “Pack a bag, we’re leaving for the air base in an hour.” I smiled and threw my arms around him, “Thank you, you won’t regret this.” “I’d better not,” he warned, his arms stayed straightened in displeasure of my enthusiasm, “If you take some stupid risk and put yourself in jeopardy, I’m putting your ass on a plane home.” Quick footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway until the door opened to reveal Sarah, “What was all that noise? It sounded like you were throwing each other into walls.” “Busy,” I quickly dismissed her, using my energy to shut the door in Sarah’s face from a distance.

“Um,” her muffled voice rang through, “What the hell was that?!”

--------

Taglist: (open)

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #marvel imagine

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firefly-in-darkness · 3 years

Text

Go For Broke

Pairing → Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Characters → Brief mentions of Knives Out characters (maybe?)

Summary → A little bet has big consequences.

Word Count → 2.7k

Warnings → 18+, Swearing, Smut, Angst

Betas → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

Prompts → Bee's 7K of the Week Challenge; Monday - Ransom Drysdale, Tuesday - Smangst, Friday - Work Function, Saturday - The Dating Bet, (a blink of a praise kink for Sunday).

AFG2021 Square Fill→ "I said 'be sexy', not be a fucking blowfish" @anyfandomgoesbingo

A/N → As I mentioned above, this is for @negans-lucille-tblr writing challenge - congrats on 7k baby!! (I even kept it under 3k for you it wasn't going to be!) This is my first time writing for Ransom, and it doesn't have any connection to Knives Out, it's an AU.

As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated💕

Firefly’s Masterlist

You carried two steaming mugs of coffee and nudged the ajar door open with your foot to Ransom’s office. He had leant back on the large leather chair and was taking in the views through the floor to ceiling windows.

He spun round in his chair and you were hit with the scent of his cologne, it had your stomach fluttering with butterflies. His legs parted wide, and the sight was something to behold; the thickness of his thighs and the way his large hand rubbed the top of one.

It was never going to happen between you two. He was Ransom Drysdale, a well-known playboy and skirt chaser. And you, you were his assistant.

He wasn’t the type of man you were after. You wanted someone permanent, someone, that wasn’t just a fuck buddy. But at least you got a little something for the spank bank every now and then.

“Like what you see?” You were caught red-handed by his crystal blue eyes and the lopsided smirk that you adored.

You brought the iPad in front of him to life, “This is your schedule for today. Harlan said that he’s rescheduled the board meeting with Walt to next week so we can relax a little bit. Said there was something to do with taking a risk or gamble?”

Ransom’s head snapped up, and his tongue darted out across his lip, a nervous tick that you’d long ago discovered. You felt a warmth bloom at your core and tried to hide the way your thighs nestled together to ease the growing heat.

Ransom scooted backwards in his chair and announced, “I need to get out of here.”

“You’ve just arrived, you can’t play hooky, you’re the boss.” You protested.

“That’s exactly why I can,” Ransom asserted and pulled his coat back on. “Let’s get lunch at that diner we went to last month. It’s quiet and nobody knows me there.”

You had become used to the whirlwind that Ransom brought with him the second he entered a room, but this was different. He seemed on edge rather than angry and you weren’t sure what had happened in the ten minutes you were away making a coffee.

“But I just made us coffee.” You pouted at him; he knew that you needed that delicious nectar.

“I’m buying lunch now get your coat,” Ransom demanded.

You rolled your eyes and did what you were told, much to your chagrin.

Ransom had driven like a mad man in his classic beamer to get you to Ruby’s Diner in record time. You scolded him once or twice when he just missed the red lights. But he didn’t seem to relax like he usually did when he entered.

All was forgiven when the waitress placed two steaming plates of burgers and milkshakes on the table. You were in heaven and thanked the waitress as you dunked a chip in the sauce.

“What is wrong with you today?” You asked.

“What are you talking about? I’m just being my usual self.” Ransom shook his head and threw the raggedy napkin across the table away from him.

You remained silent and continued to eat, allowing him to stew over whatever it was that was eating at him. It didn’t take you long to demolish your lunch, but Ransom still hadn’t touched his food. All he had done since you told him off was chew on his lip and glared at the sugar dispenser.

“Okay, seriously, you need to start talking.” You challenged.

He sighed and dragged a hand down his face, “Okay, but you can’t freak out.”

“What did you do?” Your eyes went wide as your mind ran wild with all the crazy things that he could possibly do in the last twenty-four hours.

Ransom looked up at you and laughed, “I can’t take you seriously right now.”

“What?” You frowned, feeling a mixture of confusion painted across your features.

His hand gripped your chin and his thumb swiped away at the sauce that you’d long forgotten. The heat on your cheeks grew tenfold and you coughed when he hadn’t removed his hand from your jaw.

“Ah yeah sorry. Sauce.” He stammered.

You smirked, you’d never seen him this worked up before, what had gotten into him, “So?”

“Okay, don’t fucking freak out on me but someone in the office wanted to make a bet with me. About you.”

You stared at him, all of your thoughts emptied out into the diner, “I’m sorry, what? I think you need to say a bit more than that.”

Ransom explained how one of your co-workers approached him and placed a bet that he wouldn’t be able to bed you before the corporate summer party.

“Who the fuck was it?” You growled; hands clenched on the edge of the seat.

“I’m not telling, I don’t want you to start a fight. You’re my favourite pers-assistant.” Ransom shook his head and began to nibble on the fries. His face screwed up at the realisation they were cold.

“Hold on. You agreed, didn’t you?” Your heart raced.

“I did. I have a reputation to uphold.” He smirked, “and was worth it, you should see your face right now.”

You scowled harder, “how much was the bet?”

“Ten thousand.” He shrugged.

“Fuckin’ hell Ransom, you’re cocksure, aren’t you?” You laughed at him, “why did you accept it?”

“That’s loose change to me.” Ransom shrugged and brought the replaced milkshake to his lips, tongue curling around the straw.

“Fine, I’ll do it. But I want half.” You explained, mirroring his action with your own milkshake.

Ransom choked on his drink and quickly rushed out his words, “you what?”

“We aren’t having sex, Ransom.” You rolled your eyes and placed the drink down, “If they ask, I’ll just say we did. It keeps your reputation intact. No harm, no foul.”

“They want proof.” He raises his eyebrow.

“Fuck sake, okay. Come over to mine tomorrow night and we’ll take some fake dirty pictures.” Without waiting for a response, you stepped out of the booth, “Now, I do have some work to do and funnily enough, so do you.”

“Anyone would think you were the boss.” Ransom playfully sulked and placed some money on the table.

“I might as well be.” You gestured towards the door, “Move it.”

The black baby doll was just perfect for this photo session. It was a little see-through, but your modesty was covered with the lace detailing skimming the tops of your thighs. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but you had to get this over with sooner or later. With one final look in the mirror, you steeled your nerves and opened the bathroom door and slowly walked to your bedroom.

“Hello,” You anxiously stuttered, “Where do you want me?”

Ransom’s eyes darkened at the sight of you, his large hands rubbing along his thick thighs, just the way you had admired yesterday. You internally berated yourself, this wasn’t sex. It was all fake. It was an easy win for you both - Ransom kept his reputation and you got a nice little pot of gold for a rainy day, or week.

“Just lay down on the bed and look sexy.” He commented, unhelpfully.

You nodded and shuffled around until you found a comfortable position, with your arms draped above you. It didn’t feel sexy, it felt awkward and uncomfortable. Why is this so hard? You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body and turned to face Ransom. He’d moved the left side of the bed, his phone in hand ready to take the shot.

“Ready?” Ransom asked, and you thought you saw a sparkle of sincerity in his eyes with his one worded question.

“Yes,” you said and gave him your best pout and ‘fuck me’ eyes.

“I said ‘be sexy’, not be a fucking blowfish.” Ransom snapped.

You bolted up from your position, kneeling on the edge of the bed to get back on his level but it was no use, the man was still towering over you, “I’m trying, I’m not exactly in the mood.”

Ransom raised his brow from above, and you hadn’t quite realised how close you were to him, his stomach mere inches from your chest. The lack of response grated on you, his face was irritating, and you were ready to shove the five grand up his ass.

“Actually, this could work.” Ransom pulled off his shirt and revealed the tight muscles. Your anger morphed into desire; you wanted to reach forward and touch him but kept your hands refrained at your sides. “Now, look up at me and bite your lip.”

“Perfect.” He smiled down at you and cupped your face. His thumb stroked the apple of your cheek and paired with his words; a shiver ran down your spine.

Instinctively, you bit down your lip and unbuckled his belt to the sound of the camera shutter. Hands traced Ransom’s abdomen and he sucked in a breath as you stroked a sensitive spot.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and looked up at him, “maybe we should have some photos where your face is in it too?”

Ransom didn’t need to be asked twice, he pulled down his chinos and exposed his thick muscular thighs. Your mouth watered and warmth bloomed in your tummy at the sight of the black Calvin Klein’s hugging his groin.

You rearranged your position to lie down amongst the sheets while Ransom crawled onto the bed to kneel between your legs. His hand cupped under your knee and hoisted one of them up to his hip.

“You might need to take this one,” he handed the phone to you.

Just as you went to take the photograph, Ransom’s other hand slid underneath the baby doll. It sent another wave of pleasure through your body. His smooth hands stooped just beneath your breast and it almost made you whimper. Almost.

With an attempt to gather your bearings, you decided to focus on his phone and snap a few pictures of this new position. But seeing those little images captured and whizz into the corner made you want more. There was no point denying it as you felt the tell-tale signs of your arousal between your legs. But did Ransom want it?

Ransom moved the sheer material up and lifted your leg higher, over his shoulder. Before you could ask what, he was doing, his body dipped down, his lips so close to pressing against your stomach. Oh god. Your body instantly betrayed you as your hand went straight into his messy short locks eliciting a deep groan from Ransom. His hot breath fanned across your skin, goosebumps raising in its flow.

You took some more pictures, feeling the wetness pooling in your panties, the heat growing and growing up your body. Ransom returned to kneeling and you noticed the prominent bulge in his pants, and you finally got your answer. He did want it.

A mischievous smirk replaced the smile on your lips, “you’ll want to take these.”

You sat up and turned around so that you were kneeling in front of him and giving a great view of your behind. Ransom couldn’t restrain himself, his hands instantly gripped at your hips and pulling you back towards him. He growled and you whimpered as he rutted between your cheeks.

“Ransom, the photos?” You sang out and smirked into the pillow.

“Oh yeah, right.” Ransom spluttered and began to take the photographs from this new position then you heard the soft thud of the phone dropping onto the mattress, “hang on a minute.”

Gracefully, he spun you around and managed to get underneath you to seat you just above his hips. You were entranced by the dark lust-filled eyes that studied your body, following the hands that skimmed along your waist.

His touch sent sparks across the exposed skin of your chest, his fingers toying with the lace trim as they descended the plunging neckline and over your breasts. You rocked against his stomach, giving you just a little bit of pleasure from the friction at your core.

Ransom bolted upright, one arm wrapping around you while his other hand brought you closer until his mouth met yours. The kiss was heated, it pulled you deeper into the need for more, to have him deep inside of you. Ransom’s tongue swiped along your bottom lip, demanding access and you obliged without hesitation.

You’d only thought of him, like this, late at night and alone. It was nothing compared to your wildest fantasies to have him kissing you like this or to feel him hard beneath you. You squirmed to feel him better, but he broke the kiss.

“Sorry,” He panted.

Your stomach plummeted at the thought of him regretting what had barely started, “For what?”

“I shouldn’t have,” Ransom avoided eye contact and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more than you already had done, “we just got carried away.”

“Ransom, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will kick you out.” You raised your eyebrow in a challenge.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Chatter and laughter filled the gaps of the song blasting through the speakers set up around the roof terrace. The large projector screen reeled through photographs of colleagues, in and out of work, successes in the tabloids and social media. Pool water splashed over the edges with each dive-bomb or flirtatious swish between colleagues. You watched on behind the sunglasses and relished in the sunshine beating down. It was rare to have such perfect weather and you wanted to soak up as much of the rays as you could.

The moment you spotted Ransom talking to a few people over at the bar, you thought now would be the best time to approach him. It had been a few hours since you arrived, and you only last saw him the morning before, and a few weeks since that first night. You both wanted to take things slow, it wasn’t how you expected things to happen but neither of you regretted it.

The nearer you got to the bar, you suddenly felt like everyone’s eyes were on you. Side glances from the Marketing girls, a laugh, and a grimace from a few others. Then you saw Ransom rushing up to you but also looking behind.

Before he reached you, you spun around to the projector and saw a display of all the photos you and Ransom had taken that night. Your stomach dropped, nausea taking over until you were about to collapse on the floor.

Hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you on the spot. You looked at the terrified gaze of Ransom. His lips were moving but your ears buzzed with the hum of blood pumping through. Unable to process what had happened, you tried to escape. To get away from the people that were staring, gawking, at you. At you and Ransom on the screen and then down to the pair by the bar.

“Please talk to me,” Ransom pleaded, “I didn’t know that’s what she was going to do.”

“Did you sleep with her?” You asked, your mind reeling with how this could be a vendetta against Ransom, and you’re caught in the crossfire.

Ransom’s eyes widened, “Yeah, probably a year ago.”

“You fuckin’ idiot. Get out of my way.” You tried to walk past him, but he blocked your path.

“Can I come with you?” He asked face paled.

You scowled, “No. Move.”

Ransom followed you, weaving between the crowds of sniggers and laughter. You could hear him pleading, almost begging for you to stop but you refused. You needed to get out of there and he was making it more difficult.

You skimmed the edge of the pool and Ransom grabbed your bicep, attempting to stop and turn you around. Without a second thought, you spun and shoved him. He fell backwards into the pool with a great splash. It only made you feel good for a split second until he resurfaced.

“Consider this my notice, I quit.” You turned on your heel and left the party, your job and Ransom behind.

The End.

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#Ransom Drysdale x Reader #Ransom Drysdale #Ransom Drysdale Fic #Ransom Drysdale Fanfiction #Ransom Drysdale Fanfic

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Land of Thieves #ChapterOne

Western/ Red Dead Redemption AU / Slow Burn / childhood best friends to lovers

Gif is not mine.

Read on AO3 (English Version)

Ler no AO3 / “Terra de Ladrões” (Versão Português)

Chapter warnings: explicit language, explicit violence.

Word count for this chapter: 4002K

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

Pt.1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3 || Pt.4 || Pt.5 || Pt.6 || Pt.7 || Pt.8 || Pt.9 || Pt.10 || Pt.11

You were covered in mud and blood when you entered the saloon. Curious and judgmental eyes turned to you, but you didn't stare back. Stretching your back, you felt your whole body ache; the recent beating was sure to leave marks. Walking over to the counter, you threw three gold coins onto the wood, muttering in a mumbled tone "bath" to the saloon keeper. He nodded slightly, showing you the way to the restrooms. As you washed up, you grumbled against the recent cuts, but you were happy to know that you hadn't been shot. Your body ached, but without bullet wounds, you would be better in no time. A pretty girl who worked in the saloon smiled at you when she took your muddy clothes to wash them, and you looked away blushing helplessly. She handed you new clothes before she left. When you finished your shower, you put on the white silk shirt, and beat-up jeans that were handed to you. The boots were not new, but they were comfortable. You also put on spurs, but they didn't give you suspenders, so you left the shirt loose against your body, enjoying the lightness. Attaching your holstered belt to your waist, you checked to be sure your Schofield revolver was clean and locked before you holstered it. You walked to the top floor of the saloon, ignoring the curious glances cast at you on the way. You hoped that no one would recognize you from the reward posters, but you weren't so sure about that, since your face was quite exposed without your hat, which must now be somewhere lost in the middle of New Elizabeth, or on some thief's head. Whistling softly, you walked to the saloon balcony, watching the town below. Valentine is a ranching town, small and not very crowded. Lots of pedestrians, you observe. You light a cigarette as you watch the citizens go about their mundane lives, many opportunities passing before your eyes. You let your gaze wander to the town bank, a few meters ahead on the right of the saloon. You notice that security is low. Making mental notes about everything you could observe from there, you put out your cigarette, returning to the lower part of the saloon, toward the counter. - A whiskey and a beef stew. - You grumble, handing the bartender some coins. He nods in agreement and in a few minutes you get your meal. While you are sitting at the farthest table in the room, you listen attentively to the conversation of two men at the poker table, who have caught your attention. - My cousin saw the carriages in Saint Denis. Four horses in each, and he said that the riders were armed to the teeth." - The skinny man commented excitedly, his friend didn't look so happy. - Those damned bankers are like pests of the soil. You saw what happened to that southern town, I think it was called White Gate. - commented the man with the mustache, his expression frowning. - After the oil ran out, everybody lost their jobs. Stark closed the mine and the citizens began to starve. Almost everyone moved to the neighboring towns. Stark. The name was not strange to you, but you could not tell exactly where you had heard it before. You finished your stew, deciding that Steve would want to know about both the bank and the possible rich men who were visiting the town. Finishing your whiskey in one gulp, you stood up, leaving the saloon just as you collected your freshly washed clothes from the same woman who had brought them. It was hot and humid outside. Knight, your Hungarian half-breed horse, grunted with delight when you stroked his mane. You smiled at him before you mounted. You rode south, figuring you would have no trouble finding the new camp site, and trying to remember Bucky's instructions about where exactly they were. It took some time, but you finally found the camp. You dismounted Knight as you entered the area between the trees, walking calmly to the largest tent. Steve Rogers was like a father to you. When your birth parents died of cholera, you ran away from the orphanage the government put you in, and started living on the streets. You were only seven years old, but you were smart enough to hide in one of the garbage carts when the nuns weren't looking, and you ran away because you couldn't stand being beaten by the older children and your own teachers. You ended up somewhere in West Elizabeth, and while trying to steal some food, you were chased by two officers. But just as they were about to catch up with you, someone knocked them out. You smiled when Steve held out a big piece of bread and water to you. From that moment on, you lived with him. The Avengers gang became your family. Steve took care of you, and trained you as an outlaw. You learned everything that was essential to survive in the Wild West, from hunting to murder. And as the years passed, other people joined the gang, and you accepted them all as your family. When Steve saw you, he smiled tenderly, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief as he motioned for you to enter the tent. - So, kiddo, what did you find out in Valentine? - asked the man as you sat down in the opposite position, on a wooden chair. - They have a poorly protected bank. - You shrugged. - But you know how these small towns are, the risk is almost always not worth the gain. - That's too bad, we need money. Especially to buy medicine. You let out a low exclamation of agreement, you knew exactly how difficult the situation was. It had been a particularly difficult season for the gang. With Fury's death at the last service, and the move out of town to get away from the officers, you were still facing a wave of illness. Carol and Bruce had been feverish and bedridden for days, and Thor had been shot during an unsuccessful robbery. - I overheard an interesting conversation, though. - You say, and Steve looks at you curiously. - Some rich people are coming to Valentine in a few days. The name Stark was mentioned, have you ever heard of it? Steve's eyes widen in surprise and excitement. - Of course I have! - he exclaims. - Filthy rich folks there! Rich enough to lend us a little money without even noticing. - I think Stark is going to buy the oil mines at Heartlands. And he's staying in Valentine while he does the negotiations. - That's excellent. - Steve says, running his hand along his chin in a thoughtful expression. - If the deposit is made in Valentine, we will have the purchase money first hand. You nodded. - But even if the deposit is made here, the money is sure to be transferred to Saint Denis. - You retort, trying to think of all the details of the scam. - Which means that we have to steal the money the same day it is deposited, or we only stand a chance during the transfer. Steve stood up, walking around the tent with the same thoughtful expression on his face. - No, no. - He began to speak as if the alternatives were rapidly forming in his head. - The carriage will be extremely protected. In the gunfire, we can be very worried about not getting killed, which will give them a chance to escape to the city. And then we'll have no way to reach them there. You sighed, knowing that he was right. You frowned, trying to think of something, but Steve soon spoke again. - We need to do this while the money is in the bank. And we have to do it fast. - He says, and then walks to the edge of the hut, looking around the field. He whistles, attracting the attention of Peggy Carter, who is chopping wood, and when she raises her curious gaze to him, Steve beckons her to join him. - What is it, Rogers? - Peggy asks gently. You exchange a smile with her. - We've got a new hit. - He says, making room for Peggy to join you. - Is Bucky around? - He went out hunting a few minutes ago. The twins went with him. - Peggy says and you rest your face on your own hand, waiting for Steve to speak again. - Oh right. I'll explain the details to them later. - The blond man says, walking around the cabin to the table in the opposite corner, and he takes a pen and paper and begins to write down what you think of as a rough draft of the plan. - We will rob Valentine's bank then. - I thought that banks in small towns were not worth the risk. - Peggy commented with a slightly confused expression. - Ah, but we have a unique opportunity. - Steve remarked, bringing the doodle over to Peggy. - Howard Stark, big oil guy, is going to buy the Heartlands mines. The purchase money will be deposited in Valentine before being transferred to Saint Denis. I believe we will have about a few hours to rob the bank - Steve, are you sure this is a good idea? - Peggy assumed a worried posture. - We are short on snipers... - It's a great idea. - He interrupts, looking at Peggy seriously, but still maintaining a calm tone. - We need the money, Peggy. If this is planned correctly, we don't have to worry about the number of weapons. - I appreciate the confidence in my abilities, by the way. - You playfully push your shoulder lightly against Peggy, she smiles at you. - Of course I trust you, Y/N. - She answers, but her gaze is still worried. - We just need to be careful in this job. You spend the rest of the afternoon planning. It doesn't take long for Bucky to join you. He hands a deer carcass to Pietro, who carries it back to the supply hut. Steve repeats the plan, and you let your gaze drift quickly to Wanda, who smiles at you, and you feel something in your stomach drop. Blushing, you look away, turning your attention back to Steve. It is already night when you have finally finished working out the plan. Wanda and Pietro joined you at some point, and you had to mentally repeat to yourself to pay attention to Steve's words and not to the redheaded girl a few feet away. You didn't want your passion to cost your life or put everyone else in danger because you didn't absorb the plan correctly, but you were getting to this level of unfocused. You felt a light tug on your arm as you walked toward the fire, and found yourself smiling wryly as you faced Wanda already looking at you. - I got my first deer today. - She declared, looking up at you with bright eyes, a tone of pride and happiness in her voice. You raise your eyebrows in a pleased expression. - What? That's amazing, Wands. - You replied. - I told you that you would learn soon! I would have liked to have seen it. - We can hunt together. - She says, and you try not to show your nervousness at the thought of being alone with Wanda, but you don't disguise it very well, which makes Wanda confused, and she looks almost disappointed when she quickly adds - Pietro can come with us too. You blink a few times, believing her to be clarifying that she had no intention of spending time alone with you, and swallowing dryly, you nod in agreement. - Yes, yes. Sure, we should call him too. - You say taking a few steps back, hands in your pockets as you stare uncomfortably at the floor. Wanda bites her lower lip lightly, finding you extremely difficult to decipher. You spend a moment in silence, before she speaks again - We can go tomorrow afternoon if you have no business in town. You think about it for a moment, trying to remember if you had made any appointments, if any robbery opportunities had been signaled to you, but you can't think of anything. - No, it's fine. We can hunt tomorrow. - You say, trying not to be too embarrassed by the contented smile Wanda flashes at you. She was probably going to say it was marked, but Pietro interrupted the moment by extending a bowl of stew in front of her face. Wanda blinked a few times in confusion, but thanked her brother as soon as she grabbed the item. Pietro turned to you next, a relaxed posture as he took a sip of the beer he was holding. - What were you two talking about? - he asked, his tone curious. - It's rude to snoop, you know. - You teased, drawing a short laugh from Wanda, and Pietro rolled his eyes stubbornly, but smiled. - We're going hunting tomorrow. I'll show Y/N that I learned how to use the bow on some deer. - explained Wanda, looking at her brother. - Will you come with us? Pietro frowned, denying with his head. - Sorry, little sister. - He speaks seriously, but his eyes have a malice in them that you didn't know how to recognize. - I'd love to join you on your date, but I have an appointment. You and Wanda blush at the insinuation, but Pietro continues with a playful aura as he takes another sip of beer. Although embarrassed, you can't help but be happy to know that you would be spending some time alone with the girl. - Oh, all right. - Wanda says in what seems to be an attempt to sound disappointed, but her eyes sparkle slightly as she speaks. You don't notice, but Pietro smiles at the expression. - You're full of secrets lately. What kind of appointment? Pietro laughs, shrugging his shoulders. He walks toward you with a playful expression, and puts his arm around your shoulders, smiling at Wanda as he leans on you. - Your girlfriend taught me how to play poker and now I am famous, my presence is requested in Rhodes. I need to bet and win some money for this place. You choke slightly on the phrase and feel your face heat up, looking down at the floor. Wanda lets out a nervous laugh, and pushes her brother lightly, making him let go of you. - You mean lose money, don't you? - she teases. - Even Thor plays better than you, and he usually just flips the table. You laugh, risking a glance at Wanda, who has a reddened face and quickly exchanges a smile with you. Pietro rolls his eyes and walks past you, waving goodbye. Deciding that you should eat something, you nod to Wanda that you are going to the fire. She smiles and follows you silently

You didn't hunt very often. Although you were good at it, it was not your function in the camp. You were a gunslinger, and your jobs usually involved carriage robberies and trespassing, even the occasional robbery. You were always part of the team for the big scams. And then Wanda invited you to go deer hunting and you became an anxious mess. Stumbling out of your tent, you hurried to take a quick swim in the creek near the campground. It was important not to smell too strongly when you went out hunting, as the animals could more easily notice you. Coming out of the water with wet hair, you put on your clothes, leaving the suspenders hanging from your waist and a few buttons open on your shirt. You were feeling heated. You waited for Wanda at the campfire. She also bathed before meeting you, and she seemed slightly anxious when she found you. You smiled as you poured some coffee, and Wanda looked a little airy when she accepted the cup. You didn't understand why, but the sight of your relaxed appearance, your loose hair and your exposed collarbone was absolutely irresistible to her, making Wanda feel heated in places that were not appropriate. You joked that soon she would become the best hunter in the camp, and you were happy to make her smile. As you rode out of the camp, you smiled as you felt Wanda lightly tap her foot against yours, as you used to play with as children. Riding in silence for a few minutes, you enjoyed the gentle breeze until you came to a hunting spot. You descended from Knight slowly, stretching your body when you reached the ground. Wanda watched your shirt lift and reveal some skin, then she looked away quickly, her face red. You cast a curious look, thinking she was feeling heat. Grabbing your rifle stored on the horse, you watched Wanda take from Lily's saddle - her red sorrel - a longbow and some arrows. You walked in silence, heading for the shallow part of the creek beside you, where you could easily find deer. It was comfortable to be in Wanda's presence, even in silence. Neither of you had to say anything to know exactly what to do next, your body following her along the way as if you had done this many times before. One look and you knew when to wait, or when to be quiet. It didn't take long before you spotted the deer. There weren't many, and Wanda bent down in front of you to take aim. You watched her with admiration. She raised her bow, and you noticed the slight tremor in her hands and frowned. You came forward, also bent down, and stood beside her. - There's no need to be nervous, Wands. - You whispered softly. - It's just me. The trembling in their hands seemed to diminish, but it was still there. You moved closer, raising your hands to join Wanda's, helping her to keep a steady aim. - Take a deep breath. - You said against her ear, waiting for her to obey. - And then shoot. With her speech, Wanda let go. The arrow cut through the air with speed, hitting the animal straight in the head. A perfect shot. You smiled, and when you looked at Wanda, she was already looking at you. You were about to congratulate her on the shot, but Wanda hugged you by the neck, surprising you. You felt your face heat up and due to the shock, you didn't respond to the hug, your body seeming asleep for an instant. Wanda let you go quickly, her face flushed with apology. You were about to tell her it was okay, and maybe hug her back, then you heard an animalistic noise that attracted your full attention, a low growl that you knew all too well. Glad you had brought your rifle, you looked around, searching for the source of the noise. Wanda blinked curiously, but you didn't look at her again. Standing up, you held the rifle with both hands, your gaze roaming the surroundings. A moment later, the bushes a few feet away moved, and you watched the creature sneak through the undergrowth, only to run toward you the next second, preparing to jump. The sound of gunfire echoed for a few seconds after the shot. You let out the breath you were holding and watched the panther lying on the ground, just a few inches away from your feet. Wanda looked at you in shock, and you offered your hand to help her up. - Sorry for the scare. - You grumbled, walking towards the panther intent on retrieving the skin, which should be worth a few dozen dollars. - We always have to be careful not to become the prey during the hunt. - How did you hear it? - Wanda asked curiously. - Practice I guess. - You said, kneeling down beside the panther. - Every sound around us is important. - You explained - Pay attention now, for example. Besides my voice, what do you hear? Wanda seemed to think for a moment. - I can only hear water, I think. Maybe birds. - She confesses, you finish cutting the skin off the animal in front of you. - Oh, sorry. - You say quickly. - I forgot that I just drove all the animals away with the noise of the rifle. You laugh to yourself, and Wanda smiles at you tenderly. - Let's go after that deer. I'll teach you to hear the sounds another day. - You tell her as you stand up. Walking over to the dead deer, you observe Wanda kneeling beside the animal, drawing her own knife. - Bucky taught you how to skin? - you ask, watching the firm but still amateurish cut Wanda was giving the animal. - Yes, he told me to skin rabbits before he taught me to cut the deer during yesterday's hunt. - said the red-haired girl focused on the activity. You tried not to blush as you watched a drop of sweat trickle down your neck. - I learned to skin animals from him too. - You commented as you waited for Wanda to finish the task. - I was a little smaller, I think. - I guess it took long enough for us to learn how to hunt, didn't it? - Wanda joked, drawing a smile from you. It was true, hunting had been the last activity Steve and Bucky taught you. For some reason, teaching them to shoot was a higher priority than getting food from the wild. A moment later, Wanda finished, raising the deer leather in the air, showing off her work proudly. You laughed at her expression, signaling for her to step away from the animal. You handed her your rifle, and bent down, grabbing the carcass with both hands and throwing it over your shoulders to carry it to the horse. It was quite heavy, but you concentrated your breathing as Bucky had taught you, and managed to carry the animal to Wanda's sorrel. After placing the carcass on the back of the animal, you grunted when you saw the state of your shirt, completely covered in blood. - What's the matter? - Wanda asked curiously when she heard your sigh. - Pepper made me promise not to come covered in blood to the camp anymore. - You say, rolling up your sleeves. - She told me she would put me to sleep with the horses if I showed up like this again. Of course, she will probably just change my watch shifts, but it will still be a pain to hear the lecture. - You could have told me to carry the deer. - Wanda retorted, looking at you with a mixture of seriousness and guilt. You just smiled. - Don't be silly, I just need to clean up before I go back. - You said simply, and Wanda frowned in confusion. And then she choked in surprise, watching you pull your shirt over your head. You went around her body and towards the creek. It took Wanda a few seconds to snap out of her shock, then she turned her head toward the creek, her face flushed. You rubbed the fabric with your hands, watching the blood drip into the water. You put your shirt aside only to wet your own body, wiping any traces of blood from your skin. Completely oblivious to the shy mess Wanda had become as she watched you wash yourself. Finished cleaning yourself, you wrung out your shirt, getting as much water buildup out as possible. You put your clothes back on, feeling the damp fabric against your skin. Wanda stood in the same place you had left her, and you frowned when you saw her look quickly away from you, her face red. You suddenly felt very embarrassed, thinking that you must have crossed some boundary with her. Coughing awkwardly, you walked toward your own horse. You rode in silence back to the camp, you mentally going over the whole conversation trying to find what you had done wrong that made Wanda so quiet. You were surprised when you heard her singing softly. Smiling without looking at her, you slowed down the speed of Knight's gallop, trying to enjoy the moment to the fullest. Wanda continued to sing the whole way, and you tried to ignore the feeling of butterflies in your stomach

#wanda maximoff x reader #marvel reader insert #western au #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda x reader #marvel imagines #red dead redemption au #Land of Thieves

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