#but he gets home the day before new years eve to find some note for him about how she's gone to washington for a friend's party

[lovelyela]

she looks like fun || theodore nott x fem!reader

synopsis: new years eve party, based on she looks like fun by arctic monkey. part 2 to she's thunderstorms :)

ela’s note: ignore the fact that it takes place on new years eve and we are half way into january LMAOOO. i wanted to use this song cause it was fitting and my friend suggested it :c

warnings: use of y/n, mentions of smoking, oblivious friends to lovers, cursing, mentions of drinking/alcohol, kissing, confessing, kinda cringe? lazy ending (again), mentions of parties, bad attempt at writing british people.

word count: 1.5k

・❥・

7 months, 30 weeks, 212 days, and a couple hours and a few seconds was how long ago you and theo met.

"aye, mate! ready for the party?" mattheo walked out of the bathroom, towel hanging low on his hips while steam flowed out of the shower.

you were throwing a new years eve party for the students at hogwarts who didn't go back home. mattheo and theo were getting ready.

theo's friends had long known about his new liking towards you, if you could call it that.

after the party in may, the two of you became close friends, finding time to study together, hang out, do projects in classes, and more. because of your guys' new memories and stories, he found himself falling for you even more day after day.

"course i am." theo said, scrolling mindlessly on instagram. your 2023 recap post came up on his feed. first, it was a picture of a sunrise, then one of a cheeseburger you had in italy or some other romantic-looking place. swiping more, he saw pictures of you and your friends, your achievements of that year, you with animals, and finally you snowboarding.

he even made the cut with a secretly taken picture of him staring at a thunderstorm with a blunt in his hand from the night you two met.

mattheo quickly got dressed and polished himself up before the two boys walked to the gryffindor common room.

the party hadn't started yet, but theo and a few other slytherin boys were helping you set up final details.

"hey guys!" you greeted mattheo and theo.

enzo was already helping, and draco and blaise went home to their families so it was just the three for now.

theo felt weak in the knees when he saw you. you were all glammed up for the new year, with your hair done nice and a silky emerald green dress to match the color of 2024.

you wore shoes that were much more elegant than the ones you usually wear, but they were still comfortable to dance and be in.

"you look stunning." theo said without much thought, simply just admiring you.

"thank you." you blushed, face heating up under his gaze. what theo didn't know was how you felt the same.

the times he glanced at you from across the room, the times he laughed at all your bad and funny jokes, the times he did little things for you like holding the door open, all those times did not go unnoticed.

he loved you, and the feeling was mutual.

"what can we help with?" mattheo smiled after a few beats of you and theo smiling each other.

"you can help lorenzo, i asked him to put out the snacks and drinks." you pointed to the other boy, who was putting his heart and soul into a cracker and cheese charcuterie board. mattheo went to him, and began pouring different chips into different bowls.

"and you," you focused your attention back to theo, "you can help me put up streamers."

theo smiled and followed you to the staircase, where golden streamers were put up half-way.

"i'll give you 20 galleons if y/l/n and nott get together tonight," enzo grinned at mattheo.

"i doubt it, they're both too shy to actually tell each other about their feelings." mattheo shook his head. "you know i'm always up for a bet though."

everyone saw it. the professors, your friends, even the paintings and ghosts of hogwarts. they all saw the way you and theo looked at each other, the way you two are always together. they've heard both of you talking about one another like you were desperately in love.

they also knew how oblivious the two of you were. how one of you could yell "i love you," in the other's face and brush it off like nothing.

the 4 of you finished the setup at 8:32, the perfect time as the party started at 9. people already started piling in and chatting with each other.

at 11 pm, you poured yourself a tropical drink, and you got onto the dance floor quickly with your friends and a smile on your face.

30 minutes later, theo was alone, watching you subtly from afar. mattheo was finding a girl to kiss for the new year, and enzo was with his girlfriend he met at the party in may, which actually turned out to be one of your best friends. the italian was debating whether or not to go for a smoke break again.

he decided why not, and went to a hallway empty enough. he cracked open the window and sat on the floor.

he pulled out his only blunt and lighter, but before he could even spark the steel box, your voice interrupted yet again.

"you have to stop running from my parties to smoke some weed," you smiled and set your drink on the windowsill before taking a seat in from of theo.

"and you have to stop showing up to my smoke breaks unexpectedly." he scoffed lightheartedly before putting the lighter and blunt next to your drink.

"but you love it when i do that." you frowned jokingly. "do you have another one?"

"no," he sighed, "i should stop smoking so much this new year." he said.

"maybe." you shrugged. "are you having fun?" you questioned, tracing shapes on your knee.

"i always have fun at your parties," he said, "you're lots of fun."

"i'm flattered." you smiled, "did mattheo and enzo ditch you?" you questioned. you saw enzo and mattheo inside, so you could only jump to conclusions.

"not necessarily ditched." he said, "riddle is flirting around and berkshire is with his girlfriend."

"they're cute!" you said, "they're almost at 6 months, right?"

"i think so," theo shrugged. "they're really a good match."

"i wish i had a match like that." you said, "they're so great together, they have each other's humor, they're both loyal and secure, they let each other live their own lives and be independent, they're fun to be around, just like the perfect couple."

theo bit his tongue. he couldn't tell you, he couldn't have you knowing how he felt.

you couldn't know about how you made his day. you couldn't know how your smile or gaze alone made his heart flutter. you couldn't know about how he loved your guys' cloudy day hang outs. you couldn't know how he thought about you every waking second. hell, even when he slept, he dreamt of you. you couldn't know about how he loved sharing every whimsical thought that entered his mind with you. you couldn't know about how much fun he had with you, talking shit about people who did you two dirty and being dickheads. you couldn't know.

"i think we'd be a perfect couple."

shit.

"what?" you were taken aback in the best way possible.

"i meant-" he tried explaining, but just like a cheesy romcom, your best friend, enzo's girlfriend ran outside for you.

"it's agora hills!" she said, taking your hand and pulling you into the room.

theo was speechless, it happened so quick, and your reaction was not promising whatsoever.

he almost started panicking, but he had to clear the air. the secret was out, and even though it might end the friendship, you had to know.

he entered the common room, searching for you in the crowded room. he saw mattheo with some slytherin girl, and enzo was talking to some guys in ravenclaw.

he ignored them and kept looking for you.

the same way he's looked for you his whole life.

agora hills stopped and a minute timer came on, people started cheering and it was evident. 1 minute until the new year.

he finally found you after you emerged from the crowd, you were so happy he was tall enough for you to easily scout him out.

"y/n, let me explain." theo pleaded.

"no need, theo." you smiled.

"30 seconds!" someone said in the crowd.

"i've liked you for so long. since you approached me in may, i was interested in you. i've been falling for you everyday since then. these past 7 months were so fun, and i know it'll fuck our friendship up, but i can't miss this opportunity." he yapped, rushing.

20 seconds.

you smiled, your heart becoming warm after he confessed after nearly half a year of waiting. "theo, i like you too." you said.

"10!"

theo blinked at you, not processing the information.

"9!"

"can i kiss you?" you asked.

"8!"

"what?" he asked back, caught so off guard since he was fully ready to be rejected.

"7!"

"can i kiss you, idiot!?" you smiled again, knowing he thought he was dreaming.

"6!"

the question you asked finally registered in his brain.

"5!"

"..are you sure?" he questioned.

"4!"

"yes, im sure, theo!" your grin grew wider.

"3!"

he smiled from ear to ear, heart fluttering when he realized this was real. you felt the same way.

"2!"

you both leaned in, eager to make you two official.

"1! happy new year!"

and you two kissed. sparks flew and it could be compared to magic.

the two of you pulled away after a few moments, and smiled.

"woah."

・❥・

reblogs, likes, and replies are ALWAYS appreciated <3

dni if you support pro-life, racism, homophobia, transphobia, antisemitism, sexism or anything along those lines!

#theodore nott x fem!reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott x you #slytherin boys x fem!reader #slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #theo nott

[bloatedandalone04]

Right Back to the Start

➪the one where luke wakes up to the abandoned city of detroit and doesn’t think twice about looking for the one person that always meant the most to him.

Warnings: spoilers for Vanishing on 7th Street, swearing, mentions of death ig, angst, fluff, smut, soft smut, sad events all around, loosely follows the plot of the film, mentions of injuries, unprotected sex heha, hair pulling, marking, pet names, semi-public sex (?)

Word Count: 4.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | HAPPY NEW YEARS EVE, BAES MWAH

The second Luke woke up he knew something was wrong. 

He wouldn’t say he felt it, per se, but he knew something was off. 

He had overslept and would probably be late for his segment on channel seven if he didn’t get up right now. Paige had kept him up for most of the night and seemed to have fled much earlier in the morning, leaving him to blow out the candles he so carelessly left lit during the night. 

Groaning quietly, Luke got up and stumbled his way into the bathroom of his new apartment. His hand quickly finds the lightswitch but when he tries to turn it on, nothing happens. The bathroom remained dark as he reached for his toothbrush and began brushing his teeth, making a mental note to ask Jesus, the front desk guy, about the lack of lighting. 

Using his freehand, he tried turning the TV on and found that it wasn’t working either. He scoffs around the toothbrush as he tosses the remote aside and barely avoids the puddle that had formed in the kitchen from the fridge being shut off. “What the fuck,” he muttered, grabbing the towel from off the stove handle and dropping it onto the puddle. “Seriously.”

After having to walk down twenty three flights of stairs, Luke was a bit more than annoyed as he tried to get his phone to work. 

“Piece of junk,” he concluded as he opened the stairwell door and stepped out into the lobby. “Yo, Jesus, what’s up with the-” he promptly stopped talking when he realized that Jesus was not sitting at the desk. The chair held his usual clothing, that being a suit, but there was no sign of the man.

Actually, Luke noticed that there was no sign of anyone in the lobby as he grabbed the newspaper from off the top of the desk. It only got worse when he went outside and saw various cars had crashed into curbs and stopped in the middle of the street, and the hundreds of clothing that were scattered around had him immediately on alert. 

When he saw that even his workplace was empty and came to the realization that Paige was among the sudden disappearances, he went back home and sprung into action. After nearly being taken over by darkness, Luke grabbed every flashlight he could find and his wedding band then left his apartment as his search began.

He spent three whole days trying to find any sign of life other than himself, and a car that actually worked. He took note of a truck that still had some battery life in it before he found a bar that was lit up as if it was still in business. 

Inside it he found a kid no older than twelve and soon the duo became a trio, and then a fourth person joined. It was almost overwhelming how many people Luke ended up running into after being completely on his own for seventy two hours straight. 

Luke also discovered that his patience was nowhere near as thick as it used to be as James, Rosemary and Paul were all getting on his last nerve. He had found Paul in a bus shelter barely conscious and he had to carry him all the way back to the bar, fucking up his ankle in the process. 

They both almost didn’t make it before Rosemary finally opened the door and let them inside. 

Now, as Paul was being nursed by her, Luke was left to tend to his sore ankle. “Am I in heaven?” The concussed man asked as he stared up at Rosemary. 

“Better,” Luke answered as he wrapped duct tape around his ankle. “A bar.”

A few hours passed and Paul was not getting any better, further delaying Luke’s plan of getting the fuck out of this part of the city and making him feel even more frustrated. “So, you’re all looking for someone, huh?” He asked as he leaned against the pool table, his words slurred and drawn out. 

James was the first to answer, “My momma,”

“My son,” Rosemary followed.

All three of them looked over at Luke and he knew he had to answer them without his usual level of sarcasm. He reached his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wedding band he regretfully took off a few months ago and held it in his palm. “I’m looking for my wife,” he said and they all looked at him as if they were surprised that a cocky, rude and selfish guy like himself could actually have a wife. So he added, “We’re separated, but it’s only recently. I fucked things up with her….and now I might never get the chance to make up for it.”

Rosemary took a step forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, a sad smile on her lips as he looked up at her. “You’ll see her again,” she promised and it brought the smallest bit of hope to him as he slipped the band onto his finger, where it should’ve stayed. 

Then the pathetic excuse of a generator began sputtering from its place in the basement, and luckily Paul knew what they needed to do before they were left in complete darkness. “Lessen the load,” he stated as he watched the lights flicker. “The powerload on the genny, we gotta lessen it. Turn off any light we don’t need.”

And Luke did just that, turning off everything except for the lights in the main area of the bar. They continue to flicker on and off for a few more seconds before staying on, making everyone let out a sigh of relief as the shadows fade away. “Good call,” he mumbled to Paul, who just waved him off and moved to lay down on the pool table. 

Then there were a few quiet knocks on the door, and everyone was immediately on high alert again. 

“Don’t answer it,” Luke said, ignoring the glare Rosemary gave him. Really, there wasn’t anyone on the other side of the door that could be more dangerous than the shadows, but he already had three people he had to deal with before he was able to return back to his original plan, and he didn’t need another person added to the list. But James didn’t care, and Luke was quickly beginning to notice that the kid does whatever he wants as he ran around the table and towards the door. “James, don’t.”

“It could be my mom,” he replied and didn’t wait for another word to be spoken before he pulled the door open. 

Luke rounded the table as well and was about to tug James away when he caught sight of who was on the other side of the door. His grip on the kids jacket loosened as his eyes landed on you, and he stumbled a few feet away. 

How was it possible that he had spent nearly seventy two hours looking for you, just to have you stumble upon the very bar he was seeking temporary shelter in? You looked scared and nervous and anxious, and Luke wanted to take you into his arms immediately. He was always good at providing you with comfort before, and he knew he could still do it now, he was just in shock.

“I-I’m sorry,” and there was your sweet voice that Luke hadn’t heard in months. “I saw the lights, and…”

Then you met his eyes, and Luke felt his eyes burn a bit. “Y/n,” he barely managed to say before your single flashlight fell from your grasp and hit the ground, breaking on impact. The darkness began to take over the doorway and before Luke could stop himself, he was moving forward and pulling you inside the bar. You stumble along with him and he steadies you by placing his hands on your waist. “Baby.” The name slipped from his lips before he could stop himself, but he didn’t care, and you didn’t either. 

As you braced yourself against his body, Luke caught sight of your left hand against his chest, and his eyes burned a bit more at the sight of your engagement ring and wedding band wrapped securely around your finger. “Luke,” you said his name in a breathless tone and he was powerless to stop himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

You kiss him back instantly and grab either side of his face as you press your body right up against his. “I thought I lost you,” he rasped in between kisses, his hands bunching up your shirt that looked an awful lot like one of the few he left with you back at the old house. 

You shake your head and lean into his touch when he brings a hand up to wipe away the tears you began to shed. “I thought I lost you,” 

Then you were kissing him again and pressing him against the edge of the pool table. Luke’s arms wrap tightly and protectively around you, and he pulls you flush up against his front, his mouth pressing desperate kisses to yours. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, paying no attention to the other three people in the bar. “I’m so fucking sorry.” 

You shake your head again and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Luke,” you weakly say his name as you slide your hand up and tangle it in his messy hair. 

He turns his head and kisses your wrist, his eyes narrowing on your left ring finger. “You still wear them,” he stated under his breath as he gently wrapped his hand around your wrist so he could examine the very ring and band he picked out for you.   

You tearfully laugh, using your free hand to push his hair away from his forehead. “So do you,” you observe his left hand, and the band you had picked out for him. “I never took mine off.”

Luke gives you a look of agony before he is kissing your temple and caressing the back of your head as if you were the most fragile thing he’s ever held in his arms. He supposed you were at this point since you could literally disappear at any given moment. “I should’ve never taken it off,” he regretfully informed you of his inability to cope without having you around. 

He resorted to distracting himself with his coworker in the new bed he didn’t share with you, and he wished he could take it all back. He wished he could go back to the time he left you behind and do it all again, but this time he’d do it right. He wouldn’t leave you, he would stay with you until you got sick of him and even then he wouldn’t leave. 

If he knew just how short his life with you would end up being, he would’ve never let you go. 

“What happened to your head?” You asked as you traced your thumb along the small cut on his forehead, but he just took your hand in his again and kissed along your neck.

“So….you’re his wife,” Rosemary stated what had to be obvious at this point, her hands placed on James’ shoulders as the three of them looked over at you and Luke. He kept you close to him by placing his hands on your lower back as he looked over at her. “I told you that you’d see her again.”

Yeah, a mere five minutes ago, he wanted to say but was too caught up in the feeling of having you in his arms again. “Sorry, this is probably quite the introduction,” you shyly say and Luke wondered how he went so long without hearing your sweet voice when it was all he wanted to hear right now. “I’m Y/n.”

“Rosemary,” she smiled at you, and everyone could tell how sad the atmosphere had gotten since Luke actually did end up finding you after all. Well, technically, you had found him, but the point still stands. 

He had you back, but James didn’t have his mom, and Rosemary didn’t have her son. 

You smiled your kind and genuine smile at her as you looked around the place, your body nuzzled against Luke’s. “So, what’s the plan?” 

After a bit more smalltalk, everyone came to the agreement that they would wait until morning - even with how quick the daylight seemed to come and go nowadays - before moving on, and keep an eye on the generator in the meantime. Luke gently took your hand in his as he guided you down the stairs, a flashlight in his freehand. “C’mon, baby,” he mumbled and you followed behind him, closing the door afterwards.

You and him were on first watch, and Luke was desperate to be alone with you at this point. “What are you wearing?” You ask with a quiet laugh as he leans against a beam and pulls your body closer to his. Your hands play with the abundance of flashlights that were attached to the strap on his chest before moving to tug on his jacket. “This is how you’ve been surviving?”

Luke shook his head and tore off the strap, tossing it aside without a care for its well-being. “I haven’t been surviving, baby,” he said as he gripped the sides of your face. “I’ve been looking for you. I spent the last three days looking for you.”

You bite down on your lip as tears gather in your eyes again. “Luke,” you trail off as he pulls your body right up against his own. 

You looked so pretty. Worn out and tired beyond belief, but still so achingly pretty. He wanted you, all of you, in all the ways he’s missed out on during your time apart, but he also knew you must be exhausted. 

He is, too, but he also couldn’t stand the thought of wasting his time sleeping when he could be spending the rest of his possibly short life with you, awake and conscious. “You should get some sleep, baby, you’re probably tired-”

But you just shook your head and leaned up to kiss him. He returned your kiss as soon as your lips met his, and his hands moved back to tangle in your hair. You were quite literally on borrowed time, and you both knew this, so when you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist, Luke caught you instantly.

He gripped the backs of your thighs as he slowly lowered his body to the floor. His knees hit the tough concrete a bit hard, but he could handle the pain if it meant he got to have you like this again. 

You straddled his lap as your hands tangled in his hair, tugging on it in the way you used to - the way that never failed to drive him crazy. His fingers play with the zipper of your jacket for a few seconds before he finally pulls the fabric from your body, followed quickly by your (his) long sleeved shirt. 

Luke’s hands ran up your nearly bare back, and he was beginning to crave the feeling of your skin on his. You quickly make work of his jacket, and then his zip-up hoodie. “Jesus, Luke, you’re dressed for the winter,” you point out as your shaky fingers unbutton his dress shirt. 

He laughed, a genuine laugh, for the first time in months as you pushed the shirt from his body and dropped it onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His lips press to yours again, his hands running up and down your thighs and making goosebumps rise against the fabric of your jeans. “I missed you,” he confessed as he kissed along your jaw. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and tangle your fingers in his hair again as he lifts you up and lays you down on his shirt and hoodie. It wasn’t much, but it was more comfortable than the hard floor on its own. Really, comfort was the last thing on either of your minds. “Luke, please,” you begged as he sucked the skin of your neck, his fingers tugging at the zipper of your jeans. 

His bare and toned chest presses against yours as he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth before tangling with your own. “Missed you so fucking much,” he continued as he shoved your jeans down a bit and slipped his hand into the thin material of your panties.

Your body shudders a bit as his middle and index fingers swiped along your wet folds, and you moan quietly against his mouth. “Luke,” you whine, bucking up against his hand. “It’s been so long.”

Luke hummed, kissing you once more before he pulled away. “I know,” he rasped, slowly fucking his fingers into you. “I know, baby, and it’s all my fucking fault. I should’ve been there for you, for us. I promise, I’m never leaving your side, even if we don’t have a lot of time left together.”

Your eyes burned a bit as you lifted your hips in time with his hand. “I want you, Luke,” you gasp. “For months - I’ve wanted you for months.”

Luke blinked away a few tears of his own. “I’m not leaving you, Y/n,” he promised. “Never again. I love you, baby, I always will. No matter what happens.”

You moan as his thumb brushes against your clit, and you knew he was the only one who could make you feel like this; so good, loved and cherished all at once. “I love you,” you whisper back, tugging his mouth back to yours by grabbing onto his hair. “Please, Luke, I want you. I need you, I need to feel you.”

Keeping his mouth connected to yours, Luke pushes your jeans down the rest of the way, leaving you to kick them off along with your boots, as he unzips his own. “I need you, too,” he said under his breath, reaching down to run his tip up your seam. You both moan at the same time when he enters you, filling you up in one movement and fitting perfectly. 

“Oh, God,” you whimper as his hips hit yours. “Fuck, Luke.” 

“I love you,” he says, pressing his forehead against yours as your legs wrap around his waist. “I love you, I love you so fucking much.” He couldn’t stop telling you that he loved you if he tried. He went so long without you, wasted so much time trying to get Paige to make him feel the way only you could. 

You kissed him deeply as he began to thrust into you, slow and hard, the way he knew you liked. “I love you,” you say back, laughing quietly at the way his nose brushed yours every time he slipped back inside you. 

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist and he leaned down to kiss along the tops of your breasts. If he had his way, your bra would be discarded along with the other clothing, but to save the twelve year olds remaining innocence if he were to come down here and see you like this, he would have to deal with you keeping it on. 

“As soon as I realized what was happening, I started looking for you. I had to see you again, had to tell you that I was sorry and that I regretted not coming back to you,” he rambled, shutting his eyes tightly when he felt your walls squeeze him. “I couldn’t give up without knowing you were safe, without seeing you again.”

You moan quietly as you grip his shoulders. “Luke…”

“You’re everything to me, baby,” he swore, burying face against the side of your neck. “Everything.”

“Luke,” you whine as you kiss along his jaw before brushing your lips against the shell of his ear. “Please, fuck me. Make me forget. We can forget about everything, even if just for a while.”

His hips begin to hit yours harder after that, and you press his face close to your own by caressing the back of his head. You glance up at the ceiling lights and see them flicker a bit, almost taunting you with the fact that they could shut off completely at any given moment. 

Even the shadows around you were taunting as Luke pressed your body against the cold floor, but you didn’t care. 

In this moment you weren’t scared. 

You had managed to do the impossible; you had found your husband in a city that had been wiped out of any sign of life. You found each other, and you knew that if you were to be taken by the shadows, you wouldn’t be alone anymore. Luke would be with you. He is with you. And he wasn’t going anywhere this time.

“You feel so good, baby,” he brought you back to him with the single praise, and your face flushed a bit as you cling onto him. “So good.”

“Luke,” you moaned, tugging on his hair as you looked over at the shadows. “Harder. Please.”

Luke placed one hand on your hip and braced himself above you with the other one, his forearm pressing against the ground beside your head. “Look at me,” he murmured when he noticed that your head was turned and your eyes were fixated on the dark corner of the basement. When you glanced up at him, Luke pressed his forehead to yours. “Keep looking at me, baby. Not at them, at me. It’s you and me, Y/n. It’s us.” 

He successfully got your full attention back as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed open mouthed kisses to the skin of his shoulder. “Make me come, Luke,” you requested breathlessly, your brows scrunching together when he reached that sweet spot deep within you. “Fuck.”

Luke groaned deeply, rocking his hips into yours quicker. “Like this?” He asked, moving his body so his pelvis brushed against your clit with every thrust. 

You squeeze your eyes shut as you nod, clinging onto him with the energy you had left. “Yes,” you whispered.

He pulled back to get a good look at your face, his fucked out expression matching yours. “Get loud for me,” he softly demanded as he listened to your quiet moans. 

“I can’t,” you mumbled, gently digging your nails into his shoulders. “The others-”

“Can’t hear us,” he cut you off, pressing kiss after kiss to the side of your head. He could still faintly smell your sweet, wildflower conditioner you favorited when you and he were together, and the scent had his head feeling fuzzy. “They can’t hear us, sweet girl. That fucking generator drowns out any noise. They have no idea what we’re doing right now, so be loud for me, baby. Scream for me.”

You bite down harshly on your lip, but then moan loudly once he begins rubbing quick circles onto your clit. “Oh, my God,” you gasp, much louder than before. 

Luke smirked down at you, his tired features making your heart swell. “There’s my girl,” he mumbled, kissing you afterwards. “My good girl.” 

His words had your eyes rolling back and your body arching as you moaned his name loudly. 

As he watched your face scrunch up in pleasure, Luke felt the possessiveness he felt over you since the day he met you come back to him in full swing. “Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded, well aware that there weren’t many options left for guys that could steal you from him. Still, he hadn’t seen you in months, and he wanted to know that he is still it for you. That he always will be. “Tell me you’re still mine.”

You grin up at him, softly running your fingers through his hair that had become even more messy since you and he reunited. “I’m yours, Luke,” you say. “I always was.”

He grunted as you clenched tightly around him. “You’re close,” he commented, knowing your body and its signs like the back of his hand. You were his wife of four years, after all. You technically still are as neither of you could go through with the divorce process. 

“I’m close,” you confirmed what he already knew. “I’m gonna come.”

You squeezed him impossibly tighter and Luke circled your clit faster, desperate to get you there before he got off himself. “Come, baby,” he nearly begged, hiking your leg up higher around his waist. 

With a final cry of his name, you were coming around him and sucking him in deeper with each thrust. “Fuck, fuck,”

Luke felt your warmth surround him and knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Not with the way you were squeezing him or the way you were writhing under him. “Good girl,” he praised, kissing you quickly when he felt his own high take over his body. 

Your heel presses against his back, ensuring that a single drop of his release didn’t go to waste. He pulls away from your mouth and places small kisses to the slightly sweaty skin of your neck and shoulder, eliciting more quiet, broken moans from your swollen lips. 

When your tired gaze met his, Luke gave you a small, barely-there grin. “I love you,”

You smooth out his hair as you brush your lips against his. “I love you,” you say back then ask, “What is going to happen next?”

The fear and harsh reality came spiraling back, and Luke wrapped you up in his arms. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly, holding you close to his chest. “But I’m not leaving your side, okay? I mean it, it’s you and me.”

What the world will be like after this, or how long you have with him are questions no one could answer, simply because there was no telling what becomes of you after being consumed by the darkness. Your soul gets taken, leaving behind only the clothes on your back, and it’s scary. 

But you weren’t alone anymore, and neither was he. Luke was okay now that he had you back where you always belonged, and he would be fine.

You smile up at him, glancing over at the still flickering lights as you nuzzle against his side. “Yeah,” you agree in a whisper. “You and me.”

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen smut #luke reiter #luke reiter x reader #luke reiter imagine #luke reiter imagines #luke reiter smut #vanishing on 7th street #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin fanfiction #anakin star wars #tcw anakin #sw anakin #star wars anakin #clayton beresford imagine #clay beresford imagines #clay beresford x reader #clayton beresford imagines #clayton beresford #james kelly imagine #james kelly x reader

[naughtyneganjdm]

Returning Home For The Holidays

Summary: When you return to your hometown for the holidays after getting a divorce, you run into your old friend Negan who makes your Christmas better than any you've had before.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52520974

Warnings: Christmas themes, fluff, small amount of smut (not very detailed), second person reader, etc.

Notes: I wrote this really quick because I wanted to write something small for Christmas. This is a shortened version of the second Christmas story that I wanted to write, but never got the time to. So, I hope you enjoy it!

Warmth flooded your veins while you sat in front of the fireplace on Christmas Eve. What you thought was going to be one of the hardest Christmases of your life surprisingly became one of the best yet. The year started off horribly for you when you found your husband Shane cheating on you. Shane had never been much of a husband, but the two of you had a daughter together that was eight years old. Everything was very hard for your daughter because she loved her father very much, but, unfortunately, Shane was never much of a father either.

Once you found out about his affairs and requested a divorce, Shane made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with his family in the first place. You had originally moved with Shane for work, so when everything happened you moved back to your small hometown in Virginia. Your first day back was stressful enough. Your daughter Daisy was upset that her father didn’t want to be around her for Christmas and didn’t understand why she had to leave everything she knew to move somewhere completely new. On top of that, your car had broken down your first day back in the middle of a massive snowstorm before you could even get to your family’s place.

What felt like the worst luck ended up being some of your best luck. The person who came to give you a tow was Negan Smith. Someone that had been one of your best friends growing up. Unfortunately, in the last year or two of high school the two of you had grown apart. Back then, you didn’t understand it. But when you started thinking about it once you saw him again, you realized it was likely because of your relationship that you started with Shane. Shane was very possessive and didn’t like you being around other men, so that would have explained why you and Negan had lost contact.

When he had shown up, you were surprised to see that he had his own mechanics shop because you had heard he was the local high school’s gym teacher and coach. In fact, you had seen many articles about Negan in the past because of his teams winning so many championships. Knowing that he was able to do both the school job and he owned his own business was impressive. Especially after you had heard rumors about his wife passing away.

That night you had met Negan’s daughter Elizabeth who ended up being only a few months younger than Daisy and the girls hit it off immediately. They had started playing together while you waited for Negan to fix your car and after that they were inseparable. So after that day, you found yourself at Negan’s home more often than not because your daughter had now found a new best friend in the town that you had moved to. And what was once miserable for Daisy, was something she was really happy to find.

It was also nice for you to be able to spend some time with Negan. With it being Christmas, Negan was stepping up in places in terms of being a father toward Daisy that Shane never had done on the holiday before for her. And it was just natural for him to be like that since he was already doing it for Elizabeth himself. You didn’t even ask that of him either, he was just involving your daughter in everything on his own and it was something that awed you. You had more of a Christmas this year than you ever had with Shane.

Right now the girls were sitting with Negan painting both his fingernails and his toenails while they were all sitting in front of the fireplace. That was something Shane would never let his daughter do to him, so the fact that Negan was letting both girls do it had Daisy in giggles. It was very sweet while Negan interacted with them.

“Oh. Girls,” Negan blurt out, holding his hands up when they finished with their work on his nails. “This is beautiful. You did a great job. This is definitely my color.”

Holding his hands out, Negan let you see them and you felt a rush of color flooding in your cheeks. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips and you gave him a small nod, “Don’t you think these are my colors?”

“I do. I think the red and green are very festive. The green goes with your eyes,” you commented on the nail polish color causing Negan to snort when he looked down at his hands and feet.

“Your turn?” Daisy looked back at you with a big cheesy smile, her dimples warming your heart. It had been a long time since you had seen your daughter this happy.

“It’s only fair. The rest of us have them,” Elizabeth commented, throwing her hand up to show that she had matching nails with Negan and Daisy. “So you have to do it too.”

“Yeah Y/N, you just have to do it,” Negan explained with a smirk, adjusting his thick black framed glasses over his face. Seeing the smile that he gave you drew your heart to flutter inside of your chest and you smiled.

“Of course girls,” you held out your hands for the girls while they eagerly put you where they needed you to start painting your nails. “You know, after this Daisy we are probably going to have to head back to your grandparents home. We’ve been with Negan and Elizabeth all day. They probably want to get going to bed so that way Santa can make it to their house.”

“Oh, come on mom,” Daisy frowned, her head lifting up dramatically when she looked out at you with her big eyes. The pout she gave you showed that she wasn’t ready to leave. “Can’t we just spend the night here? It’s already late. We’re in our pajamas and it’s nice here.”

“But what about the gifts that Santa will be bringing you at your grandparents?” you reminded your daughter of the gifts that she would be getting, but it didn’t seem like that bothered her all that much. “I don’t know if Negan and Elizabeth would be okay with us staying here on Christmas.”

“Of course I would be okay with that!” Elizabeth boasted, her dimples prominent much like her father’s while Negan looked between all of you with his expressive eyebrows. “I love spending time with you and Daisy. I think dad likes it too.”

“Oh?” you looked to Negan and a tiny smirk tugged at his handsome features. With a simple shrug, Negan nodded his head hearing the girls begging soon after. “That’s up to Negan. Santa probably wont know you’re here though because we didn’t let him know ahead of time.”

“Oh, I think Santa will know. He’ll bring her a few things,” Negan declared, shocking you with that comment. Looking to him, you could see the way his jaw clenched and he nodded his head. “The rest of your stuff will be at your grandparents, but I think he might leave a few presents for you here.”

“Really?” Daisy seemed excited to hear that as they finished up with Y/N’s nails. “Does that mean that we can stay?”

“I’m okay with that,” Negan answered with the excitement from the girls following. “You two just have to make sure you go to bed tonight though. You don’t want to be up and scare off Santa. Do you?”

“Of course not,” Elizabeth answered her father, hopping up from the ground to run into her father’s arms. Her bear hug caused Negan to let out a happy sound and he peppered kisses against the side of her face. Negan stroked his fingers through Elizabeth’s blonde hair and his hazel eyes hooked with yours. “I promise we will be good. And in the morning, you can make us your special Christmas pancakes.”

“Special Christmas pancakes?” Daisy muttered with interest behind her eyes. “What’s that?”

“Daddy makes the best reindeer pancakes. It was something him and my mom started when I was younger,” Elizabeth explained to your daughter, her green eyes glistening amongst the lights that Negan had set up in his living room. “They’ve always been my favorite.”

“Oh! That sounds good,” Daisy almost bounced with excitement looking to you, reaching for your hands to squeeze over them. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

“It sounds great,” you agreed with your daughter, a weak smile expanding over your features. This was the first Christmas where Daisy looked forward to everything that was going on. “Why don’t you finish up your hot chocolate and then we can get the two of you to bed?”

“Okay,” Daisy eagerly got up from the floor and went to the kitchen where the mug Negan had gotten for her was to drink her hot chocolate. Elizabeth followed her to do the same and you looked to Negan.

“I’ll explain everything when they are in bed,” Negan whispered, reaching out to place his hand in over your knee to give it a firm squeeze. Getting up from the ground, Negan held his hand out to help you stand up from the ground. When he pulled you up, it had you stumbling in closer to his chest. Wrapping his arms loosely around you, Negan snickered and shook his head. “I know you’re falling for me, but this is ridiculous.”

“What?” you exhaled loudly, a tiny laugh falling from your throat. Negan’s right eyebrow arched up, his head tipping to the side while he gazed you over. With a smirk, he shook his head and released you, but you could tell that a warmth had flooded into your face.

He wasn’t wrong. How couldn’t you fall for Negan? After the way he immediately took on your daughter and how good he was with you, it would have been pretty damn hard NOT to fall in love with him. Instead of approaching the subject, Negan went over to the girls to talk to them.

“Alright girls,” Negan grunted, lowering down to wrap his arms around both of them carrying each one of them under his arms. Both girls started giggling while Negan carried them down the hallway toward Elizabeth’s room. Following them, you stopped to watch from the doorway as Negan put the two girls to bed, tucking them in. “Now no funny stuff. You know the deal about tonight. Santa is coming and we all need to go to bed or else he won’t show up.”

“You know, I was thinking,” Elizabeth began, her big eyes staring out at Negan when he reached out to brush his fingers through her hair. “Maybe Santa can make all of us a family this year. This is the first time we’ve been happy since mom passed away.”

“I’d love to have Elizabeth as my sister,” Daisy boasted, gazing out at you and it made a nervous laugh fall from your throat when Negan looked back at you. “And Negan would be great to have as a dad. “

“And you’d be a great mom,” Elizabeth noted causing you to walk into the room and kneel down beside Negan who was smiling. “What do you think?”

“You really like it here, don’t you?” you wondered eliciting an immediate nod and smile from Daisy’s lips.

“And we really love you here,” Negan piped in, his deep voice drawing a chill down your spine. “Elizabeth isn’t wrong. This is the nicest Christmas we’ve had since we lost Lucille. I know it’s been a rough move for both you and Daisy, but we’ve enjoyed having you around.”

“We’ll have to see then,” you noticed the way that Negan’s long eyelashes fluttered. “Santa is very capable of a lot of magic. So you never know what will happen.”

“Better get to sleep,” Negan instructed both of them. He leaned down to press a kiss over Elizabeth’s temple while you did the same with Daisy. “I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too daddy,” Elizabeth brushed her fingers down over the side of her father’s features. It was amazing to see how good of a father Negan turned out to be because you were so used to someone like Shane that you didn’t know if father’s like Negan were even something that were real.

“See you in the morning girls,” you stood up and followed Negan toward the door hearing the girls giggling when they whispered about things. “Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight mommy,” Daisy called out with a big yawn while getting more comfortable in the bed. Negan turned the light off and closed the door leaving the two of you standing together in the hallway alone.

“Come here,” Negan reached for your hand which you happily accepted, enjoying the warmth his body radiated when he led you toward the kitchen. Motioning you to wait, Negan grabbed two glasses and headed for the fridge. Pulling out the eggnog, he poured some of it into the cups before digging around in another cabinet. When he revealed the bottle of brandy in his hands, you let out an amused sound. “I think the adults have been adulting long enough, don’t you?”

“Should Santa really be drinking on the job?” you inquired in a teasing fashion when he poured some of the alcohol into the eggnog.

“You’d be surprised the things Santa is capable of,” Negan returned both the alcohol and the eggnog to the places they belonged. Grabbing something to mix the drinks, Negan finished up and grabbed the glasses. Handing one to you, he stepped before you and offered up one of his cheesy big smiles. It made you laugh when you accepted the drink. “Are you okay being stuck here for the night?”

“Stuck?” you repeated the word with a huff, taking a sip of the drink he gave you. “Not exactly how I would explain how I feel about being here. I like it.”

“Yeah?” Negan slurred, his eyebrows bouncing up after he drank down some of his eggnog. “How would you explain it then?”

“Like home,” you whispered, seeing the expression in his features changing when you muttered those words. “I can’t explain it, but every time Daisy and I are here everything feels like it is meant to. I thought coming home would be miserable, but since the first day having you and Elizabeth show up in our lives has been one of the best things we could have asked for. You helped me with Daisy. She was so lost, but with you and your daughter, she’s happy. Happier than I ever saw her when we were with Shane. Christmas was not special back when we were with Shane. It was just another day, but with you? You’ve made it something amazing. And you’ve been so good to her. Better than Shane ever was. You can tell that she’s latched onto you.”

“Because she deserves nothing but the best, and so do you,” Negan reminded her with a sincerity behind his hazel eyes. “Which leads me to the whole Santa thing. I got Daisy some presents since she’s been here so much. I thought it would be nice for her to have some things.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you finished up with your drink, going over to place the glass in the sink. Negan finished off his drink and moved in beside you.

“I wanted to,” Negan responded, setting his glass next to yours and you turned to face him. There wasn’t much space between the two of you when you cleared your throat.

“Negan, I’m sorry,” you breathed out when you thought about your past together. Your comment made Negan’s head tip to the side and you frowned. “The two of us were so close when we were younger. And then Shane showed up in my life and I just ignored everything between us.”

“Oh,” Negan’s eyebrows bounced up, his hands pressing over the edge of the counter trapping you between his arms while he stared down at you. “It did suck a little bit back then. I was head over heels in love with you, you know that?”

“Really?” you stammered, noticing the way that Negan’s Adam’s apple bounced in his throat. “But what about Lucille?”

“Lucille showed up junior year when you had already ditched me. I don’t regret Lucille. I loved her so fucking much,” Negan claimed with a firm nod of his head, “but I do know that growing up, I always thought I was going to sweep you off your feet and marry you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you wondered, feeling your throat tightening up when you thought about your past together as teenagers.

“I’m a guy?” Negan shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head about. “When Shane showed up, I just assumed you were more so into football players than you were baseball or basketball players.”

“That wasn’t…I didn’t,” you stammered, finding your thoughts twisted up when Negan hushed you. “I’m so sorry. I wish I would have realized back then how things were because you are so…amazing.”

“Things happened for a reason,” Negan assured you, lifting his right hand to drag his fingers down over the side of your face. Sweeping his thumb over your jawline had a chill flooding down your spine with the warmth of his breath over your lips. “We have two beautiful girls and we would have never had them if we would have realized things sooner. You’re here now.”

“And you still feel the same way?” you inquired seeing the awe in Negan’s eyes when he softly chuckled and nodded his head. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Negan repeated, lowering down enough to capture your lips in a tender caress. It had you tipping up on your toes toward him with his other arm loosely wrapping around your waist. The taste of the eggnog and alcohol lingered on your lips, but you didn’t mind it. Leaning back, Negan’s eyelashes fluttered and charming smile expanded over his handsome features. “You are so beautiful. You know that?”

“So are you,” you circled your fingers over the area where the button was undone on Negan’s pajamas. It made both of you chuckled before Negan grabbed your hand to lead you back toward the living room. Watching with confusion, you saw Negan laying out a blanket before the fire on the floor. “What’s this?”

“Patience,” he responded with a huff, grabbing two of the pillows from the couch and setting them down on the floor. Urging you toward him, he lowered down onto his knees and you followed suit. Laying down on the floor beside the fire, you laid beside Negan cuddling next to him when you got comfortable. Pulling the other blanket he had in over the both of you, he sighed and nuzzled his nose in against your head. “What would you say if I said I want to have you in my life? Like, officially. Not like marriage, immediately. But like dating? I really like spending time with you and being with your daughter. I haven’t dated in a very long time, but I thought…”

Lifting your fingers up, you placed them over Negan’s lips to hear his words come to a halt, “I would say yes.”

A faint kiss was brushed against your fingers before you crawled in over Negan to bring your lips together in a tender sweep. Over and over again the two of you kissed before the fire, each kiss growing in strength.

“You think the girls are asleep?” Negan inquired, listening carefully with his lips parted showing that his breathing was heavy. After taking a minute, you nodded your head and Negan frowned. “Are you sure you want to be doing this with a man who has his nails painted?”

“That makes me want to do that all the more,” you reached for his hand to bring it up to your lips to pepper it with kisses. Snorting out, Negan curled his fingers around the back of your neck to lead you to him. Claiming your lips with his, he carefully rolled you over onto your back and crawled in over you. Plucking open the buttons on the shirt of his pajama shirt had him tremoring over you. Once you had the material separated, you caressed your hands up and over the lengths of his torso, teasing your fingers through the dark hair that covered his flesh. “Can you be quiet?”

“Of course,” Negan hummed, looking down when you dipped your fingers beneath the material of his pajama pants. With a groan, Negan’s eyes fluttered to a close when you wrapped your palm around his manhood, stroking over his flesh in unhurried strokes. “Can you be quiet?”

“Tonight I can be,” you tipped up to kiss over Negan’s jawline hearing him releasing a moan, his fingers dragging down over your sides. Bracing himself, Negan pulled apart the buttons of the pajama shirt you were wearing getting the material separated before getting to his knees. Hooking his fingers into the pajama pants and your panties, he set them beside you and moved in over you after pulling them down your legs. With Negan over you, the skin-to-skin contact felt amazing along with the warmth of the fireplace beside you and it made you tip your head back. Pushing your fingers into the back of Negan’s pants, you managed to get them down far enough seeing that his eyelids grew heavy with want while he stared down at you. Making sure the blankets were over the both of you, Negan got comfortable between your thighs and adjusted his body weight.

“Look at me,” Negan instructed, reaching down with his right hand leading himself to your body. With a soft roll of his hips, Negan was inside of you drawing your hips to arch up toward him. Taking his time to let you get used to him, Negan laid over you and stroked his fingers over the side of your face. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time.”

Taking his time, Negan started to thrust into you, his body’s movements unrushed while he wanted to focus on every part of you. Every so often, you would have to bring his lips to yours to keep you both from making a sound, but it was a romantic moment that one could only dream of having in a romance film. Every movement, every touch, every kiss was meticulous and passionate. It was something you weren’t used to, but you were loving every second of it.

This was a buildup of time and you found yourself thankful that you were able to find Negan again. Now that you were together again, you weren’t ready to separate from him. This was too good to be true, but this was real and you were going to cherish every second of it.

After everything was said and done, you laid with your head over Negan’s chest listening to the sound of his heart beating. Tracing shapes over Negan’s flesh, you couldn’t help but find happiness in this moment.

“I know we have to, but I never want to leave this place,” you declared hearing his raspy laugh follow. Negan pressed a kiss over your head before cuddling you in closer to him. “I love you Negan.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear that since I was eight years old,” Negan stated with a laugh drawing you to lift up to stare out at him. Sucking at his bottom lip, Negan nodded and let out a sigh. “I love you too. You’re the best Christmas present I’ve had in years.”

“And you won’t want to return me after Christmas?” you confirmed eliciting a groan from his lips and he rolled his eyes. “I’m just making sure.”

“No, I like this gift. Very much,” Negan assured you, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip and he couldn’t help but smile. “And I’m not going to give you up. You’re mine now. For good. As long as you’ll have me and my family.”

“I couldn’t think of something I want more,” you whispered, meeting his lips in another kiss. It made Negan bob his head about after you pulled away, his smile contagious. “We’re going to have to get moving soon so Santa can get the presents under that tree.”

“Santa can wait a little while longer,” Negan hushed, pulling you to him again. “I want to hold you for a little while longer. And then Santa can do whatever he wants.”  

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor​ @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams  @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny​ @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl @xsarcasticwriterx​ ​ @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost​ @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight  @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan

#Negan #Negan Fanfiction #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan x reader #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #negan smith #negan x you #negan imagine #Christmas

[beenbaanbuun]

first christmas with san

this man just screams over the top christmas to me

if you’re the same as him, it’s perfect! the two of you can giggle together as you decorate your tree and have little flour fights as you bake a gingerbread house

if you’re not, good luck! he can and will force you to make new traditions with him that he is sure to make a note of so you can carry them on for the rest of your christmases together

incredibly sentimental about tree ornaments

“oh my god, baby,” he almost yells as he pulls out a simple glass bauble, “i got this one last year at that christmas market i was telling you about, remember?”

you did remember… how could you forget when throughout the entire year he’d been buzzing about wanting to take you to the christmas market

and when he finally does, a bauble isn’t the only thing you two get

in fact, san made sure to study every single stall

he studied you too and the moment your eyes rested on an ornament for more than a few seconds, it was soon in his hands being paid for

and the food there? he makes sure that the two of you try a little bit of something from each and every stall…

you’re so full by the end of the day that the two of you have to take a nap when you get home

a nap in your new christmas bedding, mind you

san insisted on buying you some, as well as some brand new matching pyjamas

although the pyjamas stay unworn and unseen by you until at least christmas eve

he wraps them in pretty paper and presents them to you on christmas eve

and obviously there’s the christmas photoshoot in front of the tree in your pyjamas because san insists that it wouldn’t be christmas without it

proudly shares the photo with every single person he knows because they have to know just how much he loves celebrating the holiday season with you

also makes sure you take a photo under the mistletoe that he hung in the doorway

he takes a lot of those photos actually…

“no, that one wasn’t perfect,” he frowns, “guess you’ll just have to kiss me again!”

most of those don’t get sent to people

he got a little carried away

carries you to bed promptly at 9pm because ‘santa won’t come if we’re not in bed!’

he doesn’t say anything when you point out that all your gifts are already under the tree

cuddles you close all night because he’s so excited and he just needs to squeeze something!

you try and wriggle away at numerous points in the night but san doesn’t have those muscles for nothing

there is no escape

safe to you when you wake up in the morning you have a suspiciously san shaped lump on top of you

grumbles when you try to wake him up but then you wish him a merry christmas and he wakes up quicker than you’ve ever seen him wake up before

“oh my god,” he shouts as he practically falls out of bed, dragging you with him, “come on! no time to waste, baby.”

you let him drag your tired body to the living room where he passes you gift after gift and waiting for you to open them

they get more elaborate and expensive and they go on, and you get a pant in your chest when you realise that the gifts you got for him are nothing in comparison

he assures you it’s fine with his words, and then reassures you with his excited reaction to each and every gift he unwraps

“baby, it’s perfect!” “it’s just a jumper…” “yeah but it’s a really nice jumper!”

you two try and cook dinner together

half way through you end up checking if any of your local take outs are open

they’re not… you end up eating whatever you can salvage from the nightmare of a dinner the two of you had managed to make

a bit of dry turkey and a few underdone yet somehow simultaneously burnt carrots never hurt anyone…

you decide to leave the clearing up until later

you spend most of the afternoon curled up on the sofa watching whatever shitty movies you can find

and you spend the entirety of each movie picking through the plot holes and guessing how it’s going to end

you tell him you love him before you kiss him under the mistletoe on your way to bed

he tells you he loves you too

#ateez headcanons #ateez oneshot #ateez reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #san headcanons #san oneshot #san fic #san fluff #san x reader

[russellsppttemplates]

What if you and the kids gang up on me? (Pierre Gasly)

Pierre is doing what he can to makes sure his children are raised knowing their roots

Note: english is not my first language. As you maybe know by now, talking about these subjects is a big responsibility for me, but I always hope that I have treated them properly. Also, these are some traditions that I remembered and that I know about!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: pregnancy

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Did you find what you were looking for?", you asked your husband when he found you in the living room. Because Alexandre had been a little bit fussy the night before and you still had some things to prepare and sort out for the big night tomorrow, you ended up staying with your little boy at home while Pierre went out to get something he needed.

"Yes, they fit well, too. I just put them in the washing machine. And how's this little guy, hm? Is he feeling better?", he pointed to your son. He had been attached to you the whole day, so he had ended up falling asleep on top of you, "he's feeling a bit sorry for himself still, but he's sleeping now, so I guess that's a good thing", you chuckled, remembering the past night where you and Pierre almost slept in shifts since your little boy kept needing your full attention.

The next day, Pierre's parents arrived after lunch, making it the perfect timing to get the kitchen and the dining room ready for the New Year's Eve celebration. Because of how young your son was, you opted to stay inside and have dinner with your in-laws, making the situation a lot more flexible.

"Are you not going to put on the dress you bought?", Pierre asked, taking Alexandre from your arms, "I don't know if it fits me all that well", you admitted, "I'm sure it will, amour, you look gorgeous in everything", he ushered you up the stairs.

While you got ready, Pierre softly knocked on the door of the guest room his parents were staying in, "are you guys ready?", he asked, seeing his parents dressed according to the request he made. Moving to the nursery, he laid his son on the changing mat, grabbing the white shirt and soft pants from the wardrobe before pulling his own trousers he had hid in the room, "let's surprise mama, yes? I bet she'll be so happy to see you. You look like the most handsome boy ever", he kissed his cheek, changing himself as well and walking back to your bedroom to surprise you.

"Me and Alexandre need you to close your eyes", Pierre said after he knocked, "my eyes are closer then", you said, hearing footsteps approach you when you heard your husband's command, "you can open them now".

Opening your eyes, you saw both of your boyd in all white outfits, matching your own, "I know you always wear white because of the traditions you have, so I thought it would be a good one to start now that we have this little one", he smiled, handing Alexandre back to you when you opened and closed your hands and encouraged him to do so.

"This is amazing, amour", you thanked, kissing his lips before taking a good look at both of them, "look at you, meu amor", you kissed your son's cheeks, earning a little giggle from him, "you look so handsome, although I think your outfit won't be this clean for much longer", you tapped his nose.

"Knowing you, yours won't either", your husband teased you, "you look amazing, mon ange", he kissed your forehead, "breathtaking as usual", he smiled, "C'mon, my mother also needed help with her dress and my father was having some trouble with the zipper, and you might be the only one to be able to fiddle with it".

.

"Papa, I want something sweet to eat", Alexandre said, looking for a snack in the cupboard, "do you know how to make those chocolaty balls mama makes? The brigadeiros", the boy struggled with the last words, the letter R still a challenge for him to bend, "Oh, those are so good, papa, please make them!", Louis said.

Pierre had seen you make them what felt like a thousand times before, but now he was doubting himself, "How about we do them together?", he suggested, thinking that if the recipe tasted different, he could also blame it on the fact his children helped him do it and that's why it tasted off and not because of his baking skills.

"First, ingredients!", Pierre announced, moving to the cupboard where you kept the sweet ingredients, "we need this can here, which is called leite condensado, and some cocoa powder", he helped them reach the shelves and grab what they needed, "we also need margarina", he showed them the block of margarine he got from the fridge, "Oh, the word is very similar to the French one", the oldest boy said, "that's right, a lot of the words are similar", he smiled, grabbing the measuring spoons and the pot they needed.

"It makes it easier to learn, even if I'm not that good at it", Alexandre admitted, pouting slightly, "the other day I asked mama to speak to me in Portuguese and I got her request messed up, she wanted her hairbrush and I got her a hair tie", he confessed.

Helping Louis up on the wooden tower so he could be at the level of the counter, Pierre spoke to Alexandre, "you know learning a new language is hard, you're still getting used to it, right? And you're doing a good job, buddy! The first time mama asked me for something in Portuguese, she said it was in the bathroom and I went to the kitchen", he nudged him, seeing his smile creep up.

"So, we have to heat this up, and we have to be careful because we can't have bubbles, alright boys?", Pierre pointed the spoon, "so we just keep stirring the chocolate in now?", Louis wondered, "yes, carefully for a good while".

Despite their usual excitement and rush because they were just kids, the boys actually held up to the request and waited patiently until the bowl had cooled down from the fridge enough so they could roll up the balls, "mama usually makes different toppings, like coconut, and cocoa powder too", Pierre added, "so it's really up to you what you do with yours".

"Can we leave these ones for mama?", Alexandre asked, setting a small tupperware box on the side with some of his and his brother's creations, "yes, I'll put them in the fridge for when she gets back from work, I bet she'll love them".

.

"Come here", your husband whispered, seeing you finish rubbing the cream on your arms, "I want to talk to my little girl", he urged you, helping you sit on the bed so he could scoot down and face your bump. Because this was your third pregnancy, your bump was growing at a much faster pace, making it more prominent and, therefore, a place where you would usually find Pierre's hand whenever he was near you, and tonight was no different.

"Olá, meu amor", he began, "hoje deste um dia complicado à mãe, hm? Mas é um bom sinal, porque significa que estás a crescer e que estamos cada vez mais perto de te conhecer e de te ter nos nossos braços", he smiled, kissing your soft skin. Hello, my love (...) today you gave mama a hard day, hm? Bur that's a good sign, it means you're growing and that we are closer to meeting you and to have you in our arms

"I'll never get over you speaking my mother tongue", you brushed your husband's hair by running your fingers through, "you speak mine, and I have to know, too. I mean, what if one day you and the kids gang up on me?".

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[rainydayandmondays]

...in case, I stand one little chance...

Summary: New Year’s Eve shouldn’t be for charity galas. Or at least that’s what Andy believes. Good thing he can see you when he gets home.

Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen X Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ only. Minors DNI. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, fingering (female receiving), voyeurism, Daddy kink, slight non-con, unprotected sex

Author’s Note: Our third holiday in the Holidays with Andy series. And when I told you that Andy was not too happy about this one, well...

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Andy watched as everyone made their way around the venue making small talk with people they honestly couldn’t care less about. He sipped at the glass of champagne being passed around. But he could really go for something harder right about now.

Laurie had invited him tonight. It was the Children’s Cottage charity gala. They had really gone all out this year. Some last-minute donors had really shelled out the cash this time. Probably looking for an easy tax write off. Either way, Laurie had spent the last couple of weeks completely enveloped in putting on the best gala. Something about money attracts money. Big gala meant big donations. Or at least that’s what she had said as she laid out his suit for the night.

Andy was itching to get a way. He had done his due diligence for the night. Had showed up, providing the loving, doting husband routine as they walked into the venue. However, it was not but thirty minutes before Laurie was pulled away to schmooze with some potential donors. She left Andy to fend for himself as he looked around the event area. Somewhere along the way, he had been cornered by one of the farther leaning conversative attendees. Once they found out about his job, the man couldn’t help but to drone on about the need to tighten up on crime. Mind you, Andy was pretty sure this man lived behind a gate with a driveway that took at least ten minutes to drive up. What possible crime would he know about?

Breaking free from the conversation under the guise of refilling his drink, Andy decided to loiter by the bar for the remainder of the night. He was sure at some point Laurie would find him, until then, he would wait out, switching the champagne for something harder.

Halfway into his glass of whiskey, he felt his phone go off in his pocket. Turning towards the bar, he took it out to see the pop-up notification from his favorite app. There was movement detected. He smiled, you must have made it home and before midnight.

Andy hadn’t seen you after your Secret Santa exchange. You having taken the week off from work, he had missed seeing you flit through the office. Seeing you pour your third cup of coffee for the day in the breakroom as you talked about your New Year’s plans. He knew you would celebrate it. Holidays seemed to be too big a deal for you not to.

No, there hadn’t been any sight of you for a whole week. Well, except for his camera. There, he had seen so much of you. In the short week that it had been up, Andy was able to discover a lot about you. He had made sure to set up the motion detected notifications the day after that first night. Wearing subdued clothing to work, at home you preferred satin nighties and pajama sets. He imagined you preferred the softness against your skin. In the mornings, you would wake up and start blasting 80’s music as you danced around your room, getting ready for the day. He didn’t know he could love Bon Jovi so much being an AC/DC fan himself. But something about you lip-syncing to Dead or Alive as you made your bed had that song stuck in his head for the rest of the week.

At night, well at night were the best times. That’s when the other you came out. The you, you had shown that night whispering out for daddy as you ground against your pillow. He still hadn’t recovered from learning about your kink or the fact that it could work you up so much to squirt. But then again, daddies always know how to get their good girls there. True, at night, his sweet girl became his good girl. He watched and listened as every night you found a way to get yourself off. Whether you rode yourself to orgasm or tried with your small fingers to finger yourself there, he watched.

It always started with the headphones first, some audio you listened to that never failed to get you where you needed to go. He finally heard it Friday night when your earbuds lost their connection. He watched as you frantically tried to re-pair the headphones as a man’s voice filtered through your room telling you exactly what to do. At first, the thought of another man pulling those noises from you, even a disembodied voice, made his hair stand on end. However, if it meant that his sweet girl could get her release, then so be it.

Staring down at the notification, Andy debated opening the app now to see what you might be doing. It was still relatively early for any nighttime performances, but it might be the right time for your after-shower routine. Making his decision, Andy downed the rest of his drink, before turning to head towards the restroom. He wasn’t sure exactly where Laurie was, but given the night, she was probably still sucking up to another donor.

Phone in hand, he started to pull up the app when he rounded the corner to the bathrooms. Pushed against the men’s room, he saw his wife gripping some random’s neck as said rando had their face buried in her collarbone and his hand up her skirt. The little whimpers escaping her mouth and the squelches coming from beneath her skirt left little to the imagination about what was going on in the corner of the venue. Watching the scene unfold, Andy’s face tightened, and his jaw creaked as he bared down.

“Andy?!”

Finally noticing her audience, his wife gasped out his name, urging the guy’s hand from under her dress. She tried to right herself, as her comically wide eyes looked at him to determine just how fucked up the situation was.

Letting out a dry chuckle beneath his breath, he only stared back before calmly stating, “I’ll be in the car.”

As he made his way back through the venue, he could hear Laurie calling out to him. She only stopped once they hit the main area. She couldn’t risk making a scene. She had donors to think about.

“Jake!”

You looked up from your bed, where you had perched with a few pillows against the headboard. The night was slowly closing in on its midnight deadline and you had spent it watching the Twilight Zone marathon on TV. Jake had introduced it to you in one of the first years of your friendship. Neither of you had really been up to going to any local parties. In fact, the idea of meeting up with high school acquaintances, all home from college and pretending that college had somehow changed them in the 4 months they had been gone, sounded exhausting. Rebuffing any invitation you received, it was Jake’s late-night text asking you to come over, that won out. Laying on his parents’ basement couch, you had rung in the new year with Rod Serling and a boy who was slowly becoming your best friend.

Since then, you have made it a tradition to watch the marathon together to celebrate the New Year. When Jake had gone out on his latest mission, you know it was a possibility that he may miss out this year. In all the time you had known each other, you had only missed your tradition when he gone off to bootcamp. But even then, he had sent you a play-by-play commentary as you watched together through chat.

Now he had been gone since before Christmas, your last call the night you had shared your amazing news about school. You had gotten mad at him for not reacting the way you had hoped. Jake had always supported you in everything you did. When the last year of school almost took you out with the last of your criminal justice classes, he had stayed up with you to quiz you. And when you brought home the A’s, that he promised you would get, he gave you your nickname. The LSASTs came and he sat at your kitchen table as you reviewed each section of the exam over and over again. He made sure that you had a continuous drip of coffee until you ultimately crashed and he carried you to your couch to sleep. Reading out your final score, he had stood by with your parents, grabbing you and repeatedly telling you ‘I told you so.’ Then when your mom had gotten sick, he held you as you decided to put your law school dreams on the backburner. He rocked you and whispered that it wasn’t for forever. That was the Jake you expected it.

Thinking over it afterwards, you had kicked yourself about being short with him. Jake had always been there for you, watched over you. He had just been preoccupied with the mission, calling you from his motel room. He sent you a text later that night to let you know that all communication was going dark and he would talk to you as soon as possible. On Christmas, you shot him a text with a picture of your family’s Christmas tree lighting up the dark living room and a simple Merry Christmas.

But now, here he stood in your doorway, shuffling towards your bed while he closed the door behind him.

“Hey Ace.”

Taking a seat on your bed, you brought up your legs to make room for him and the gift bag in his hands.

“How are you here?”

“The mission finished.” He replied, grabbing hold of your socked foot and rubbing circles into the sole of it.

“But I thought you said…”

“I may have told them I had an important date to keep,” He interrupted you, squeezing your foot as he looked up at you, “Besides Hooch’s wife made him promise to be back for New Year’s.”

He watched as you smiled back at him. There was that smile. He had missed it while he was gone. Most missions were never easy for him, but you always made sure to see him off with a smile and well wishes. This last one hadn’t been the same as the memory of your displeased face popping up as he carried out his comms duty. He hadn’t meant to make you angry. It was only after receiving your Christmas tree photo that he knew may be all had been forgiven.

Driving back from the meet up site, he had rushed to grab a gift bag from his sister’s place, dropping all his bags at hers and heading out to you. His sister, used to his antics when it came to you, had met him at the door, hugging him quickly and handing him the gift bag with tissue paper ready. Outside your house, he had shoved the gift into the bag, noting the time on the car’s clock and knowing you had to be deep into their annual marathon. Knocking on the door, your mom greeted him, and he noticed she seemed to have a healthier glow about her. She welcomed him with the same genuine smile you had, before pointing to your room upstairs.

“Are you going to tell me what you have hidden behind your back?”

He smirked, grabbing at the bag and handing it to you. You made quick work of the tissue paper on top before reaching down and pulling at your gift. Holding it in your hands, you looked at the white sweatshirt with Boston College scrawled across the front.

“I am happy for you, Ace. You of all people deserve this.” He whispered waiting for your reaction when he saw you starting to chew on your lip. Your eyes lifting and tears lining each lid. He was pretty sure he did it right this time, but waiting for you to say something had his anxiety spiking. Nervously pushing up his glasses, he waited.

“Jake.”

Only hearing his name, he barely had time to brace himself as you threw yourself at him. His arms taking hold of your waist as you slung yours around his neck.

“Merry Christmas, Ace.”

He felt you squeeze him harder at his utterance of your nickname. Slowly backing away from him, you sniffled before leaning over to your beside table. A sparkly red gift with gold ribbon came into view, as you placed it in front of him.

“Merry Christmas, Jake.”

He smiled ripping into the wrapping paper and box. Inside he found Baby Yoda staring up at him talking about protecting and snacking, smirking to himself, he looked up at your expectant face.

“You like it?”

“I love it.” He replied draping it against his chest to model it for you, before pulling on neckline of the shirt he was wearing.

He hadn’t had a chance to really change and had opted to spray as much of Axe body spray on himself to cover the smell of travel. Pulling the old shirt over his head, he got a small whiff of it and was surprised you hadn’t mentioned anything when you hugged him. The shirt fully settled he caught the last bit of you pulling your sweatshirt down, a small glimpse of your belly making him clear his throat.

“So, have they shown To Serve Man yet?”

“Not yet. You know that the classic episodes are saved for actual New Years Day.” You explained as you pulled the duvet away for him to climb in next to you.

Watching the clock over the TV, he saw that you were only a couple of minutes out from midnight. But despite your best efforts, you fell asleep about an hour ago. Somehow inching your way onto his lap, you had snuggled close to him with his hand making its way to rest along your waist. It hadn’t been a conscious thought to do so and yet here he was. Short little puffs of air hitting his thighs, just under your clasped hands. He enjoyed the sense of calm the position had brought the both of you, before stroking your shoulder.

“Ace, you need to wake up. It’s almost time.”

He felt you shift, moving to turn your head towards his stomach. The little puffs of air now danced along the bottom edge of the Mandalorian t-shirt you had gifted him a few hours earlier.

“Ace, come on. You don’t want to miss it.”

At that your eyes blinked open to stare up at him. A sleepy smile stretching the corners of your mouth, as you moved up to lean against him instead.

Switching the TV to show the ball dropping in New York, the roar of the crowd echoed through your bedroom.

“5…4…3…2…1. Happy New Year, Ace.” He quietly spoke the countdown, his chin resting on top of your head as you held onto his arm.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” He felt your whisper along his arm, your hand running down to hold his hand.

He interlaced your fingers, giving a firm squeeze in response. He was over the moon to be here. The two of you were able to complete you tradition one more year. If he was lucky, he’d be able to spend many more with you.

“I’m sorry about last time. I shouldn’t have been mad at you. You were just looking out for me.”

He felt tears before he heard the sniffling. This was the second time that you were crying tonight. However, this was for a much worse reason. Grabbing onto your chin, he lifted it to see your big eyes filled with tears, “I will always look out for you.”

Your watery smile seemed to stem any additional tears as you nodded. Starting to lean back, he tried to resettle the two of you from the small break in the bubble you had created.

“One day you won’t. One day you’re going to meet an amazing woman and she’s going to make you so happy. She’ll be the one you look out for. Not me.”

The way your voice seemed to get smaller as your confession continued, made something in him ache. He wasn’t sure where all these questions about his feelings about you came from. He wouldn’t let you think that somehow, he felt so little about you.

“There will never be a time where I don’t look out for you. Where I don’t care about you. Because I can’t not. I can’t not care about you. I can’t not…” He caught himself before finishing his thought. He couldn’t go there with you. Couldn’t risk it. Closing his eyes, he opened them to find you staring back at him.

“Can’t not what, Jake?” He shook his head, swallowing hard to avoid answering your question, “Jake, can’t not what?”

Feeling the bed shift, he watched as you climbed into his lap, your pajama shorts riding up, as you stared at him straight on. Your hands came up to cradle his face, stopping him from looking anywhere other than you.

“Tell me.”

The drive home had been frosty with little to no talk being had. Getting into the car, Laurie had thankfully picked up on the fact that there was little to be said. He had caught her right out and no spinning of the truth could change that. Pulling into the driveway, Andy was glad that they had okayed Jacob to spend New Year’s at some classmate’s party. He couldn’t see this going any other way but ugly once safe in their home.

Accusations started the moment inside. The lone overhead light from the kitchen island was the only thing illuminating the house when Laurie let out her vitriol.

It wasn’t her fault.

He was never there.

Work was more important than either of them.

The image of the perfect family was what he wanted. Not an actual family.

He couldn’t expect something to last if he was never there to take care of it.

He stood cross-armed against the counter, letting his wife have her say. He watched her let everything out, her words becoming more strained as she continued. She didn’t touch what she had done tonight. Save from pleading again how it wasn’t her fault. Once she calmed to a simmer, realizing that he wouldn’t be rising to her level, he felt the need to answer.

“You’ve been different. Happier for a few months. I would say that’s probably around the time it started. Maybe it started with a few compliments, a flirtatious quip during a meeting. It probably developed from a woe is me, my husband doesn’t love me anymore diatribe where the fucker saw his chance. It could have happened in a few ways. I don’t know.” He started slowly uncrossing his arms and approaching her.

Her mouth was in line, presumably getting ready for another round of denial, when he continued.

“But what I do know, is that you never really loved me. No, we were a means to an end for each other. What I know is that I’m not the only one that has cared about appearances. What I know is that this would be a slam dunk, fault-based divorce on the grounds of adultery. Given tonight’s events, there’s going to be more proof somewhere. And what I know is that your reputation would never recover. There’s got to be a morality clause somewhere in your contract with Children’s Cottage.”

He saw her confidence start to fade. The righteous anger she had built up with her tirade diminishing as he kept talking. She didn’t have a leg to stand on and he would make sure she knew.

“But you see, what I know is that I don’t have the desire to deal with that. So, this is what’s going to happen, we’re going to finish this for tonight. Come next week, you will end whatever this little thing is. Or at least give the illusion that it’s ended. We will put up the pretense of trying to make it work for Jacob’s sake. But this will end. A non-contested divorce. Just another New England marriage falling victim to irreconcilable differences. That is what I know. And now, that is what you know.”

Leaving her in the kitchen, he drowned out the small whimpers she made as she tried to collect herself. What’s done was done and there was nothing more for it. Entering his office, he threw his overcoat on the small loveseat in the corner, before sitting at his desk. He waited to hear her steps overhead before pulling out his iPad and setting it up on the stand he bought earlier this week.

His marriage may be ending, but he still had you. His sweet girl that loved every holiday with equal passion. That didn’t seem to be touched by the darkness in the world. That had done nothing but shine a light into his life. His sweet girl, that should be right about now becoming his good girl.

Logging into the camera’s app, he waited for the feed to load as he started to unbutton the collar and cuffs of the overly starched shirt, Laurie had insisted he wear.

“Damn it, Ace”

“Tell me, please.”

As the feed fully came up, he heard his sweet girl talking to someone. Someone distinctly male sounding. Looking at the camera, he zoomed in on the image of her straddling someone. Her hands were gripping the guy’s neck, as he watched them leave heated bite marks along her neck.

“Sweet girl. Not you too. You wouldn’t do this to me too.” He whispered into the darkness of this office. He could feel the urge to be mad. To reach through the computer and punch the guy currently nibbling on his sweet girl. Pawing at her like he had any idea of what to do for her.

Rubbing at his chin, he leaned forward on his desk, his breath puffing out over his clasped hands. He wouldn’t have this. Not tonight. Not ever. He fought the anger building up when he heard your gasp. Focusing back on the scene, he watched you start to rock on the lap of your stranger. Your hips rolled in that practiced way he had memorized from before. You had switched your pillow for this man.

“God damn it, Ace. Say that you want this.”

“Jake.”

Jake. That goofy sidekick friend you had introduced him to on Thanksgiving, was the one you were currently grounding against. How could he possibly know what to do for you? What to give you? There’s no way he would be able to handle what you needed.

“Take it out.”

The little moan you gave at Jake’s words had Andy ears perking up again. He knew that moan, that was your happy moan. The moan you made as you slipped into the lovely sub headspace. He had heard that moan from you throughout this week. Each time signaling to him that you were becoming his good girl.

He watched as you fussed with something in front of you. He assumed it was your friend’s pants and zip. It was confirmed when a groan was let out by Jake. He was glad to not be able to see what exactly you might be holding onto. He could barely stomach that you had chosen to ring in the New Year’s this way. But despite himself, he couldn’t stop watching. Maybe he needed to know exactly what you do when it wasn’t just a disembodied voice with you. Or maybe he just needed to know that despite Jake’s best efforts, he would fail at giving you what daddy could.

You continued your slow grind against him and he watched as a pair of hands came around, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer. Your satin pajama shorts rode up higher and Andy wasn’t sure how much stretch they were going to give you. You pushed your ass back into his hands and Andy knew you were begging for a swift slap to each cheek. Instead, Jake just gripped them tighter, massaging each. You let out a small whimper at that before doubling down on your grind.

He knew that squeeze wasn’t what you needed. He watched as Jake’s fingers finally made their way under the hem of your shorts. Andy was able to clock the exact moment when Jake figured out that you wore nothing under those sleep shorts.

“Ah fuck, Ace.”

“Please.”

Hearing you beg gave him what he needed. Up to this point, he had spent most of the time judging Jake’s handling of you. Comparing what he might do, knowing what he would do would be better. But the sweet sound of you pleading, woke up the part of him needing to serve you. Give you what you need. He swore it was Pavlovian. He adjusted in his seat, rubbing at himself through his dress pants.

“What does my sweet girl need?”

He watched as Jake’s hand grew bolder, fingers inching further under her shorts, until his sweet girl’s back arched. Zooming in, Andy followed the fingers moving in and out of his girl’s pussy. A wet spot was growing in the crotch of her shorts, and he knew if Jake would hold out a little longer, she would let go for both of them.

“Those fingers are so much better than your little ones, aren’t they sweet girl? Thicker. Are you squeezing them, sweetheart? Show us how tight it is. Come on, I know you’re almost there.”

Unzipping his pants, Andy dove his hand into his boxer briefs, grabbing onto himself. It had only been a few minutes of watching her and he was already dripping, creating a nice, healthy wet spot in these damn suit pants. Pulling at the waist of them, he pulled them down as he grabbed at his button-down shirt. Leaving just the bottom two buttons undone, the shirt tails splayed around his cock. The pink head standing between the edges of his shirt, as he dribbled onto hem of each side.

“Jake, I’m…”

“Shit, I know. I can feel it. Ah fuck, Ace I can feel it. It’s so tight.”

“No shit, you can feel it. You better give it to her. Don’t fucking dare leave her hanging.”

Andy watched as your hips finally stuttered and you reached back to grip Jake’s hands. His finger stopped moving beneath your shorts, while you laid your head against his shoulder.

“No! You have to keep going for her.” Andy brought a fist down on his desk as he saw the wet spot grow on your shorts. But nowhere to the point it should be. You could go so much further. He would have gotten you there.

“Ace, I gotta…”

“Yes, Jake.”

That small acquiescence was all Jake needed to flip the both of you over. Balancing over you, Jake shoved his pants and boxers down, kicking them off the edge of the bed. Still slightly blissed out from already cumming, you let Jake grab at your shorts for you, followed shortly by your sweatshirt. As Jake moved to throw your clothing, Andy caught a glimpse of your glistening pussy, all puffy and coated with your juices. Andy had been letting himself bob freely, deciding he wouldn’t cum until you did. But now, seeing this, having the image of you completely bared to him. Fuck, if he didn’t have to pinch at the base of himself. It had been a while since he had cum hands-free. But if it were to happen for him again, it would be with you.

“Jake, please. I need it.”

You had reached down, dipping a finger inside yourself before pulling it up to push back your little hood.

“Fucking Christ. Are you that needy, little one? You just came and already need something inside you again?”

“Shit, Ace. You can’t do that to me.”

Andy shook his head at your friend. How was he ever going to keep up with you? You haven’t shown half of what you could do. Of what you wanted. What you cried out for as you rode your own fingers. Your legs came to hook behind Jake’s ass and that seemed to be what he needed to finally sink into you.

He could hear the little whimper that left you after Jake slide in, your legs tensing under his ass, as you got used to the stretch. Taking full advantage of the 10X zoom, Andy gawked at your lips hugging onto Jake. Fluttering a little, as they stretched around him.

“My sweet girl, look at you stretched out. She can barely hold onto him. That’s okay, she’s not used to it. We can teach her.”

Taking himself in hand, Andy mimicked the pace Jake set. Poor boy was barely holding on. He was grinding into you, with his face buried in your neck. He wasn’t even sure that he would last long enough for you to get there a second time. Andy couldn’t have it. Even if it was another man sliding into you, daddies always took care of their good girls.

“Come on my sweet girl. Daddy needs you to cum. You’re daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“Ace, shit, how are you tighter?”

Andy tightened his hold on himself, activity thrusting into his fist at your response to him. He knew you just needed a little coaxing. The okay to let yourself go. He watched you lose yourself, your grip on Jake spasming as your nails scratched at his back.

“There you go little one. Look at the mess you’re making. Fuck, keep squeezing him. Let him know exactly how good you are.”

“Fuck, Ace.”

He watched Jake quickly pull from your hold and finish himself on your tummy. It splattered against your skin and Andy had to wonder how long it had been for the kid. Or maybe this was just the hold you had on men. You could draw the very souls out of them.

He stroked himself, watching you both come down, your little mewls the only thing keeping him going. Your pussy was still twitching as more of you leaked onto the bed, while Jake tried to get himself together. Leaning back, Andy played at his balls, pulling on them trying to join you in that post haze bliss. Closing his eyes, he replayed your pussy stretched out around the cock being shoved into you. The sweet noises you made when given his permission.

“Mmm daddy.”

Andy’s eyes whipped open at that. He had let you have fun with your friend, but he be damned if you called him daddy. Looking at the feed, he saw that Jake had left the room, presumably to get a towel to clean up. You were still spread out on your bed, your legs relaxed open, while your fingers played with the spend left on your stomach. Taking a scoop onto your middle finger, Andy’s pupils blew black, as you licked it from your fingers.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I’m here. You’ve missed it haven’t you. God, I swear to you I’ll figure out a way to give it to you again. Keep licking sweet girl. Keep licking…”

He lost it. This time he didn’t even have time to aim. The half hours’ worth of edging ended with the bottom of his dress shirt soaked. Looking down at it, he smirked thinking of Laurie finding it in the laundry later.

Sitting back in his chair, he watched as Jake came back in, gently cleaning you. Grabbing his hand, you directed him back to the bed, for him to cuddle in behind you. Andy sighed. It seemed that maybe Jake was more of an obstacle than he had originally given him credit. But it was your daddy you had called out for, not Jake. And that Andy could work with.

Tag List

@sarahdonald87

@buckybarnesisdaddy

@theinheriteddutchess

@welp-heregoessomething

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@janineb86

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know 😊

#the holidays with andy #holidays with andy #in case i stand one little chance #andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x reader #dark andy barber #defending jacob #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen fluff #jake jensen smut #the losers (2010)

[andvys]

New Years // E.M.

Warnings: angst, mostly fluff

Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader 

Side note: this is part of the lwtua series but can be read as a standalone 

series masterlist 

-

Eddie hated parties more than anything and yet he found himself at one, not because he was here for the actual party but for the money that he would earn tonight after selling all the stash he had brought. It was New Year’s eve and the house was more crowded than on any other day, or at least that’s what it felt like.

While people kept coming up to him to buy weed, his eyes kept skipping past anyone that wasn’t you. He hasn’t seen you here yet but he had a feeling that you were lingering around somewhere, especially because Steve was here, who was now standing in the corner, talking to Nancy and Jonathan– something that seemed weird to Eddie considering Jonathan is the guy that kind of stole his girlfriend as he had found out later on.

Steve was smiling at something Jonathan had said to him.

If Eddie was in his place, he wouldn't be able to face the guy that stole his girl and put on a friendly face.

Jonathan’s eyes found Eddie’s and a smile appeared on his face, waving at the metalhead. He whispered something to his girlfriend before he left her side and walked towards Eddie.

“Hey man,” Jonathan said, stepping closer to him.

Eddie smiled and greeted him with a handshake “what are you doing here, is California that bad?” he asked, smirking.

He chuckled, shaking his head “just visiting my girlfriend.. but uh, didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I was just about to go, sold all my stash already,” Eddie mumbled.

“Ah, don’t wanna stay here any longer?” Jonathan asked, chuckling.

“Hell no,” Eddie grumbled, shaking his head causing his curls to bounce.

“Yeah, I’d rather be anywhere else right now than here but Nancy kind of dragged me here.”

Eddie nods, looking behind his shoulder to see Nancy talking to her ex boyfriend as though nothing ever happened between them. It was odd to see the sight of two people who once considered themselves lovers now being nothing but friends.

“And you’re hanging out with Harrington now?” he asked, almost with a judgmental tone on his voice. Eddie can’t stand Steve, not just because he’s an asshole but also because he gets to have something that he can’t.

Jonathan sighs as he looks back, glancing at Steve for a moment who he came to appreciate as a friend, well, kind of a friend. If it wasn’t for the things they had been through together, he wouldn’t have gotten along with him that well but Steve turned out to be a decent guy as Jonathan had realized.

“He came with y/n but she kind of ran off.”

He felt his heart fluttering at the mention of just your name. Raising his brows in surprise “she ran off?”

“Yeah, she doesn’t really like parties and she wasn’t feeling good,” he said, avoiding Eddie’s eyes, knowing that he had already said too much but a part of him hoped that Eddie would finally get his shit together and go find you and just spend time with you “she looked sad when she left..”

Concern lingers in his eyes “oh..” he mumbled as he looked down. He hates knowing that something had upset you “and Steve just let her leave on her own?” he asked angrily, worried for your safety.

“She drove here and she didn’t drink so don’t worry.” he said, eying the look on Eddie’s face “I doubt that she went home though..”

Eddie looks up again, a somewhat teasing look lingers on Jonathan’s face and he knows he wants him to ask about your whereabouts. Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair “where is she?”

-

You watched the steam rise, keeping your hands wrapped around the warm mug, the smell of hot cocoa lingered in the air and you sighed in content as you took a sip of the sweet beverage. Looking out the window, you watched some cars passing by, snowflakes falling softly on the ground, you used to love winter and snow but now it was nothing but a cruel reminder of what happened on that cold November night.

You tried to forget about it, at least for tonight but you couldn’t. You looked at your friends, Nancy, Jonathan and Steve. They were able to relax, even if just for a short moment, they were able to forget and enjoy themselves but you couldn’t, not when you still felt the darkness trying to get ahold of you, not when people looked at you as though something was wrong with you and not when you saw him. The person that held your heart in the palm of his hand and was unaware of it– even if he was aware. He wouldn’t care anyways.

Deep in thought, you didn’t hear the bell ringing or the voice of the waitress taking an order from an elderly man a few tables away from you. You didn’t hear your name being called either.

Only as you felt someone sitting down next to you, their shoulder bumping into yours, you finally snapped out of your thoughts. Tensing up, you scooted away and turned to look at the stranger that decided to invade your space.

Your breath hitched in your throat and your eyes widened.

Your eyes locked with warm brown ones and your body immediately relaxed at the sight of him.

His eyes were soft, a small and uncertain smile lingered on his lips.

“Eddie?” you whispered, staring at him in confusion.

“Hi..”

The smell of his cologne mixed with the smell of cigarettes and his aftershave bring you a weird sense of comfort.

“What uh- what are you doing here?”

You don’t know whether his cheeks are red from the cold or if he’s blushing.

“J-Just uh.. wanted some..” he trails off, reaching for the menu on the table, he grabs it, squinting his eyes as he reads through it.

You suppress a giggle as you watch him, he turns redder by the second and his eyes keep flicking to yours. Clearing his throat, he places it back on the table and taps his finger against it “just wanted some coffee,” he said confidently.

“Coffee at almost 12 am on New Year’s eve?”

He furrowed his brows and looked down at your mug “what’s wrong with coffee? You’re having hot chocolate.”

“I just mean that most people would have alcohol tonight.”

He nods “yeah well, not me and not you either so… we can just hang out and drink non alcoholic beverages together right?” he asked with an awkward smile on his face.

Your heart flutters in your chest and your mind is filled with nothing but questions but you don’t speak them aloud, not wanting him to leave if you do ask.

“Yeah,” you breathe, tearing your eyes away from him, you look down at your cup “you should have some hot cocoa too though.. It's really good.”

“Can I try?”

You look at him in surprise, blushing under his gaze.

Nodding, you push the cup towards him and as he reaches for it, his fingertips brush against yours, making your skin feel tingly.

Eddie feels the same, his heart skips a beat and the blush on his face deepens further. He smiles, clasping his hand around the mug, he brings it up to his mouth. His lips touch the same spot that yours have before.

You watch him, hating the way you feel around him. Your chest is filled with warmth, heart fluttering like crazy, you feel safe and comfortable in his presence but sadness lingers inside of you because you know that once the night is over, he will go back to his old ways, the way he always does. You should walk away from him and leave him behind to protect your heart and your feelings but you don’t want to. You know this means nothing to him but it means everything to you and even if you can only have him for tonight, then it’s okay too because you would rather have him for a fleeting moment than not at all.

“Oh wow, that’s good.”

Eddie ordered himself a hot cocoa as well and a second one for you because he felt bad for drinking half of yours, you kept insisting that it’s fine but he ignored your protests. You could feel the eyes of the waitress on you, an older woman named Josephine, you were a regular at the diner, usually you would come here alone, seeing you with someone else here must have sparked her interest, especially when she saw how you looked at each other. 

Placing the drinks in front of you, she flashed you a smile as she looked between you and Eddie.

“You are such a cute couple,” she said with a smile on her face. “Young romance is something magical, don’t let go of each other.” she said before walking away.

Your cheeks felt hot and you looked at anything but his eyes, your heart was racing and you reached for the mug nervously. Eddie was blushing like crazy but he looked at you with a small smile on his face, loving how shy and nervous you looked.

“Uh– so uh..” you mumbled awkwardly “how are you?” you asked before taking a sip.

Eddie stared at you, some of the whipped cream got on your nose and he couldn’t help but chuckle, you turned to face him with a frown on your face “why are you laughing?”

You are so cute. His eyes flicker to your nose and to your lips before he inches closer “you just.. got a little something there,” he whispered as he wiped the whipped cream off before he slipped his finger in his mouth, licking it clean.

If you weren’t blushing already then you definitely would be now. Your stomach fluttered as you stared at him in surprise.

“You okay?” he asked, smugly.

“Y-Yeah, totally.”

He smirks to himself as he leans back and takes a few sips of his hot cocoa.

“Why aren’t you at the party anymore?” he asked after a while.

You shrugged, a sudden sadness flashing in your eyes “didn’t feel like it… what about you? Why are you here.. with me?”

“Because I want to be here.. with you.”

Jonathan told him that you were sad but Eddie only really noticed it now. You kept your gaze on your mug, blinking quickly as though you tried to keep your tears in. Eddie’s heart sank, the moment reminded him too much of the one where he jumped away from you when you almost kissed a long time ago. Your glassy eyes and the heartbroken look on your face, haunted him to this day.

“But why?” you asked quietly.

Because you are the only person I ever want to be with, Eddie thinks to himself.

“B-Because no one should start off a new year lonely and sad.”

And because I love you.

You turn to look at him and for the first time, you feel like there’s more behind his eyes than just dislike for you.

His beautiful dark eyes sparked with something you couldn’t read and as they looked with yours, you knew you would be okay, eventually.

He inched closer to you, a moment that was so similar to the one you shared two years ago, only this time, he didn’t jump away when he realized what he was about to do.

You swallowed nervously as you felt his hair tickling your cheek, his hand settled on your knee and he gave it a squeeze and then he kissed your cheek, lips lingering on your skin for a moment.

Your heart was racing and so was his, you felt content and happy in this moment right here. He leaned back a little but stayed close enough to feel your breath on his lips and he wanted nothing more than to kiss you.

“Maybe ‘86 will be our year,” he whispered softly.

-

tagging some of my faves <3 @prettyboyeddiemunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @lnnlove @mysticmunson @translatemunson @hellkaisersangel @spookycreepycookie @i-me-mine

#lwtua #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb

[inkyvendingmachine]

Mobs and Stalkers Season 4, Episode 3

💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀 Call of Cthulhu Season Four Masterpost (Coming Soon)

Warning: This campaign is an edited version of  a Call of Cthulhu scenario from the Tales of the Crescent City book. While a lot has been changed, there IS spoilers for it throughout these posts.

Who is this guy and why is he following us? Why are we following him?? Why are we interreacting with mobs again??? How does this keep happening to us?????

Art Credit: @inkdemonapologist : sketching + inking @inkyvendingmachine : concept + colouring

IT IS THE NEXT MORNING. EVERYONE WAKES UP AND NOBODY (who slept over at JDS) IS MISSING, OR DEAD.

THAT’S GREAT.

Bendy even slept on top of Jack during their slumber party, trying to give the same comfort as an Beans might give. It might’ve been weird otherwise, but after all the hectic nonsense going on and not being able to feel safe going home, in this case it was welcome.

Joey slept on his research notes. 

But it is a work day (at least it’s friday,,,) so the cots are shuffled away before people start coming in and questioning the group about the spontaneous night in. And foreseeing this might be a future issue if stuff goes haywire and they have to hide out at JDS more, Joey takes the holiday opportunity to get everyone out of the office for a while.  Enjoy New Years Eve off, go party! Also New Years, to recover from the party. And also… the day AFTER New Years, to do all the things you meant to do on New Years but you were recovering from the party!! Look how nice Joey Drew is, giving so many thoughtful days off. Nobody come back until Thursday or else.

While everyone else is getting some work done, Joey checks in on Norman who didn’t even call in. He seems fine, but he’s still adamant about staying at home. Okay you do you.

(Joey sends Susie to hang out with Norman, as his inside woman and also because the Norman vs. Susie perception of the world will be nice when more things just. C h a n g e.)

The team has two big leads for trying to find Alan Leroy: Chandler Kreel and Amanda Cornish. Both of them are apparently good friends with him, and with addresses in hand, they split up to try and track down the danged clarinetist that they probably need to get to.

Jack and Sammy drive downtown to a bunch of law offices with apartments above, searching for Amanda. They’re able to get to her door pretty easily, but Amanda isn’t the one who answers. Her sister does! Luckily Jack’s there to run introductions because otherwise Sam’s scowling face probably would have just been turned away at that point. Sitting in the waiting room, Amanda soon joins them and admits that the last time she saw Alan was at a christmas party they went to… but seems to be kind of standoffish about any other information.

After some more charming by Jack, it’s revealed that she thinks he might be in trouble with the mob, and uh, Sammy… looking the way he does……. Maybe made her think they were the mob?? But with confirmation that, no, they super aren’t the mob and in fact are trying to find Alan before he possibly gets in trouble with a mob or two, she’s a bit more relaxed. Something weird is happening, because Alan really doesn’t seem like the type to be in trouble with the mob. And the last weird thing she remembers happening with Alan was… well, he got freaked out over some book she gave him for the holidays!

What’s so scary about a book? It was a pretty interesting read, here she’ll go grab it for ya!!!

Sammy is looking away Sammy is looking away Sammy refuses to look in any direction near Amanda as she, indeed, brings out a little black book with the Yellow Sign on it. 

Jack immediately feels it wiggle into his head. But at least he’s able to wrap up the conversation with her in a… semi-normal manner? While Sammy’s eyes, darting anywhere else, find a photo on the mantelpiece that features Alan Leroy and friends, hanging out at a party scrawled with the note: Skinner Place, May, 1934… and Sammy is CERTAIN he recognises the man.

Oddly, his clarinet in the photo is missing one of the extensions he'd expect for a professional player...…….

Joey and Henry take the brown Mercedes to check out Chandler Kreel, who luckily lives in a nice part of the city that feels like a Mercedes might be somewhat… less… easily noticeable. 

He answers the door but seems extremely nervous, like Amanda was. Leroy is great! So good at clarinet you wouldn’t even know he was down a finger!! Also totally a swell guy who shouldn’t be in any trouble so why are you heeerree?? 

Through Joey’s uh, storytelling skills, and Henry's good calming daditude, they get the idea he’s a loyal friend who wants to make sure he’s helping his buddy and not handing over information to the mob or any other parties that might be after Alan… Which means, he probably has information on where Alan is. Since it’d be suspicious to just plain ask, Joey goes the heartfelt “please reach out to us we’re here to help,” direction and hands off contact information. 

While returning to the car, Henry and Joey find someone oogling over it… and this time it’s not some girl trying to declare herself Henry’s lifelong love, but the pale-faced man in a black suit that’s been seen everywhere recently. Their conversation is short, as the man mentions looking for a “wandering player” that needs to be returned to his place, and he walks off after some vague threats about what happens if you are in his way. Or if you lie to him, don’t do that either.

His mask-like face doesn’t move while communicating any of this.

Henry tells Joey once they’re alone that he thinks that guy is Fowler. He has the same nervous fidget Fowler used to…

Jack and Sammy go to stop by Norman’s on the way back, and find that… his place is apparently a block down from where it used to be!! 

GREAT!!!!

When he answers the door and is immediately and frantically questioned about this, he takes a look around and confirms, shrugging and simply stating “it seems like I’ve moved.” 

He invites them in for a housewarming party.

Susie and Norman have been playing cards. There’s no updates on Avadon. Jack and Sammy update them about the few tidbits of information they’ve found, and Norman finds a piece of junk mail to hand off to Jack before they head out. Since… the address on there seems to have changed too, so if Norman ends up moving again, well… they’ll know where he is!

The four of them meet back up at JDS to exchange information about Alan Leroy, and also eject the yellow sign from Jack’s head asap. Sammy's still worked up about this clarinetist's missing E flat extension, but Joey dismisses this as old news -- obviously; he's missing a finger. Keep up, Sammy. Peter has kind of also met back up with them, leaving a message on Joey’s phone talking about sightings of the masked man going through some magic shops in the city. And the fact that despite all his digging, he really can’t find anything about where this Leroy guy came from…

Joey tries to call Peter back by memory and it doesn’t work. We’re not going to talk about the fact that Joey has Peter’s number memorized. Pulling out his phone book, indeed, Peter’s number on paper has changed and that one DOES work. 

Before they get much of a conversation going at all, Joey hangs up on Peter to try something. Instead of dialing a number in, or looking one up… he just wills himself to dial a number in to call Alan Leroy.

It kiiiindaaa works.

Joey manages to call Alan Leroy’s phone, but the same servant picks up and insists that Alan hasn’t returned home. Joey hangs up on him. 

Peter gets a call back. Okay so there’s those Magic Shops he wants to check out, and also he has a lead on the gangster guy who shot the gun during the charity event. To keep Peter from doing nonsense alone and probably being abducted to Carcosa, Jack and Joey decide to go with him to investigate magic shops, while Sammy and Henry uneasily go to the bar to find info on the gangster guy, once Sammy is reassured that this won’t be like last time and all he has to do is eavesdrop. This surely will only go well.

At the bar, Henry casually brings up the charity dinner shooting while trying to fish for information, and maybe he talks a little too much, because suddenly all eyes are on him. What! Sammy wasn’t doing any talking so Henry was just trying to… do….what Joey would do? Henry trying to do what Joey would do has never gone wrong before…

Sammy and Henry are in a mob car, only kind of against their will. They are escorted to a restaurant, where they meet the extremely average looking Italian mob boss, Johnny Nero, who wants to know what they know about this pale masked man. At first it seems like they’ve made another great terrible get-yourselves-kidnapped-by-a-mob mistake, but the boss seems surprisingly rattled, and after some grilling from Sammy, Nero admits that… he’s seen some stuff that shouldn’t be…

… and Sammy hits the nail on the head when he asks, have you seen the y͟el͜l͘ow sig̵n?

Henry steps in and decides to offer to help him… to get him on our side, and understand that we are not a threat to him, we’re simply trying to remove the same thing from the city. After some pressure, Nero is convinced, and goes through the extremely normal process of Henry writing eldritch symbols with his own blood to remove the sign from him. After the nightmare has been yeeted from his brain, Nero turns out to be a wee bit nicer: he gives us all the info he has, but insists that if we find whatever the pallid mask guy is looking for, to give it to him so he can use it to get the guy gone.

And then he kicks them out without even offering them a ride back to their car at the bar.

Wrow.

What an extremely average super not classy even mob boss. 

That’s gonna get you a terrible review on yellowp my dude.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, it’s time for

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*SHOPPING✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*~~!!

The first store is called Cool Jewel Skull. It has cool jewels and skulls. Surely that’s exactly what it says in the book, because it’s extremely not a legit shop, and Jack spends the entire walk to the next shop dunking on it to keep Joey's spirits up. They did find out that not just the Phantom but Leroy had been through it though!

The next stop is an apothecary, and it does seem a lot more actually occult stuff. The guy recognizes a photo of Leroy and confirms he came through looking for protective charms, but when he went to buy one, he dropped it upon touching it and immediately left?? Then the Pallid Mask guy came through later… Not much info on him, except that he was creepy, but we already knew that. The interesting thing is though, the charm that Leroy dropped? It has the same symbol on it that Henry uses to expel the yellow sign from people’s heads. So… weird that he didn’t take it with him…. And seemed allergic to it as well.

The three leave and try to go to the last shop on the list… but the address is missing from the paper now. Like… completely gone. Joey gets the great idea to try his “I'm going to will myself there” trick and closes his eyes, imagining a route to this store he’d never been to before, and giving Jack directions to drive there. Suddenly Jack slams on the brakes and manages to keep from completely smashing into… a man in a suit… and a pale mask…. There’s definitely a dent in the bumper now though, because Jack wasn’t that quick, and apparently a moving car is not more solid than this thing is. 

Joey immediately starts cursing him out, but he insists that Joey called him?? before going around to the side of the car and opening the back seat door… where Peter is sitting. Not having this AT ALL, Joey tries to beat him out of the car with his cane, only to be thrown back against the dashboard. 

With Jack frozen in terror and Peter having an oddly difficult time moving to even the other side of the car away from this pale jerk, Joey immediately decides he cAN AND WILL RIP THIS ASSHOLE OUT OF EXISTENCE. 

And… somehow, it works.

It sure tears something into him alright, and manages to boot him out of the car, giving enough time for Joey to demand Jack step on it. And Jack, panic stricken, somehow manages to follow the command and at least not run into anything else as they drive off into the night – But just as he’s hit the gas pedal, he does feel the cold of both glass shards and … something else, as  he gets touched by a hand smashing through the window in the last second. 

Luckily Jack bought the first car on the market in the US that had safety glass so he’s not going to be fucked up much from this in the physical department, except for his wallet maybe.

Mentally though? Memories flood in… 

memories of a time he visited a dream with his eyes closed, and almost had his head removed.

After they’re at a safe distance, a shaken Peter manages to pull the door closed. 

And thank them.

#call of cthulhu: haunted hijinx #sammy lawrence #joey drew #henry stein #jack fain #susie campbell #norman polk #peter sunstram

[enihk-writes]

[before the year ends]

seasonal fics : 除夕 (chú xī) / lunar new year's eve edition

paring: various!hwasan men x gn!reader

summary: things that happen on the last day of the year.

characters: chung myung (can be read as both pbss and mhdd) // chung mun // chung jin // tang bo // tang gunak // jang ilso // jin hyeon // lee songbaek // jin geumryong // baek cheon

author's note: my personal music recommendations for the day are lovers in seoul by off the menu , hot potato by n.flying , coconut love by seoulmoon , mercury by bye bye badman and t + tik tak tok by silica gel feat. So!YoON! (doing this for fun because my other hobby is looking for new music and putting them in a playlist partly because one of my teenage dreams was to open up a cd shop in an art street or own a music-vinyl brunch cafe by the seaside ugggh but you need money like do you know how expensive seaside properties are in singapore!!! i don't have that cash!!! so i have to work!!!! fuck!!!!)

CHUNG MYUNG doesn't like to be cooped up indoors during the festive period. so that afternoon he slipped out to visit the next town over, hearing about their night market and looking forward to getting drunk off his rocker before returning home. only to come face-to-face with you. to his credit he tried to divert your attention to slip away with a bold-faced lie but to be honest, he isn't very good at that. he ends up letting you tag along to buy your silence. which wasn't that bad of a decision — he found himself enjoying the private time he had with you more than he'd expected, like walking through the markets with pinkies interlocked, visiting taverns and teahouses getting mistaken for a couple to get discounts, even the passionate drunken kisses you both shared on the inn balcony which left him quite dazed. when he gets back he would have to have a talk with you about what happened here. though right now he's a little preoccupied with leaving marks all up your neck, hands under your clothes going to places he probably shouldn't, revelling in your embarrassment a little too much. thank goodness he had the foresight to rent out a room to stay in so the both of you could do whatever you wanted in here to the heart's content all night long.

CHUNG MUN watches as you scurry around the sect grounds checking in on the workers who were all preparing for the banquet that was to be held over the new year. as the sect leader he shouldn't interrupt another elder's duties, but as your husband he wanted you to pay attention to him too — it was new years eve and your spouse can't even ask for some alone time with you? you were so cruel, was this how he was to spend the last day of the year? he sighed and turned back to his papers, finishing up with his own work until it was finally time for bed. you met him in the front of your shared house, he finds himself cracking a smile when you bury your face into his chest, he walks you over to sit together on the bench, where you plop your head down on his lap, very much like a certain youngest, pouring your heart out on the annoyances that you've faced today so what has your dear husband have in mind to reward their hardworking partner? the man only chuckles at your ranting, running his fingers until you fell asleep, carrying your tired body to tuck you in bed. he looks over at your peaceful form one more time, kisses your hand and leaves for his own quarters to retire for the night.

CHUNG JIN had been pulled out from under the pile of books he's buried under to take a day off at the behest of the other elders and disciples. not knowing what to do, he hovers around your side, not really wanting to go down the mountain without a solid plan. you thought he looked a little like a lost sparrow then, so you let him stay around as you went about your day. he aided you with small tasks here and there — wasn't he supposed to be on break? old habits die hard, you supposed. he ended up helping you finish your job earlier than intended, bringing the leftovers from the kitchen along, the two of you headed down the forested path at the back of the mountain to wile away the rest of the afternoon as you ate the food and engaged in small talk about nothing in particular. the sun felt warm on your skin, and as it began to set, the sounds of the flowing stream nearby lulled the two elders into a dreamless sleep.

TANG BO stifled a laugh as he looked at your sorry state. only an idiot falls sick on new year's eve — was what he'd told you. you wanted to strangle him right then and there, never mind that he was your husband. he offered to nurse you for the day, supposedly from the kindness of his heart. bullshit. this guy had something up his sleeve, you were so sure of it. but whatever you thought he'd do never happened. your husband truly did take care of you that whole day. he'd wipe off your cold sweat, change towels, feed you food and medication on time, among other things. you thought he'd turn over a new leaf and was just about to praise him when he snickers at you again. maybe you should get sick more often, you're so much nicer when you're quiet like this. too bad for him your fingers were faster as you shove them up his nose to choke him in retaliation. fortune favours the just. the next morning you woke up feeling good as new — your fever had gone away just in time to celebrate the new year. your husband, on the other hand, didn't seem to be doing too well, seemingly catching your cold from yesterday. hmph, serves him right for teasing you like that.

TANG GUNAK could not catch a break even on new year's eve. there was always work to do, the world did not stop on holidays, after all. you slipped into the room quietly with refreshments in hand, hoping to get him to take a short break from his paperwork. the man had sharp ears — recognising the weighted rhythm of your footsteps even as you were on the far end of the hallway. he sets down his brush, getting up to greet you. my love, he'd call out softly, expertly placing away the tray in your hands. you laugh as he pulls you into his embrace, his face burrowing into your shoulder. you try to hug him back with as much vigour you could muster, pulling away just so you could place a few pecks on his face. it wasn't a very long break, but he was grateful for it nonetheless. he sipped on the tea you brewed, listening to your excited recounting of a new novel you had been reading. new years was a time to give thanks for the blessings in life, and he was more than thankful for the way your shoulder felt pressed against his arm as you two sat side by side.

JANG ILSO cared little for the festivities. he wasn't in the mood for any banquet, or party or whatever loud activity. he had been itching to do something, but he couldn't pinpoint what he wanted to do and the idea of going outside annoyed him. you didn't really know, nor cared to find out about your employer's stormy tantrum going on right at that moment. unfortunately for you, you were one of his go-to people to piss off and annoy whenever he wanted to cause trouble. your boss was a temperamental man, and you always walked on eggshells around him. little did you know that you were third on his list of people he liked, so in the off chance that you did piss him off, he wasn't going to get rid of you. not that soon or quickly anyways. he barged into your office with attendants trailing behind him with boxes of drinks, food and entertainment for that evening. he was here to bother you, if you so kindly didn't mind. most of what happened was blurry — you only remembered drinking the sweet wine, going down far too easily, possibly knocking over papers and ink all over your desk and then passing out. the next time you came to, you were in a guest bedroom near your boss' own. the hangover medicine and new clothes already laid out on the table for you. there was no way you had created a moment that your boss could hold over your head as blackmail. no, you detested the teasing that was sure to come from him in the coming year.

JIN HYEON had been out on an errand on behalf of the elders, and finally, he was going back to wudang just in time for new years. he stops by the small diner in the town next door, he often had his meals here whenever he's going out, outwardly he said it's because he liked the lotus root soup with pork ribs served with warm rice. in reality, he just wanted to find a chance to talk to you, the owner — a familiar face he had known since both of you were mere apprentices. though now you had taken over the restaurant your adoptive grandfather had left behind for you while he had risen up to the rank of a second-grade disciple. the diner was small, and the business was decent enough to make ends meet, but it wasn't so busy that you didn't have time to sit across him to have a short chat before he headed off. you asked him if he would stay and visit the night market this year. he shook his head sadly, feeling bad that he was turning down your offer yet again. you shook your disappointment off, opting to change the topic. the hour passed far too quickly, and he had to report back to the elders before night fall. you walk him towards the door, just as the wind picks up from where your back was turned, pushing you into his chest. the man takes the opportunity to pull you a little closer, accidentally placing a peck on your forehead. you didn't think he'd be this affectionate today but who cared? it was new years eve and it's been a while since he had walked you home. maybe next year you could ask him again to come with you to the night market.

LEE SONGBAEK had gone to his hometown for the new year celebrations. he had been given permission by the elders to do so, along with a good majority of the other disciples. things had been really quiet back in the sect with nobody really wanting to do anything with them. speaking of which, he hadn't seen his family in years by now, and he wondered how they were all doing. he didn't plan to spend too much time — have dinner, catch up, stay overnight and leave the next morning. he didn't expect to see that you would also be in his house, helping out with the new year's eve dinner. he could smell the dough and sesame paste drying out in the sun for the tang-yuan they'd all have later. actually, he thinks most of the village was congregated at his house. the disciples who had tagged along with him were a little taken aback at the size of the crowd, much to his embarrassment. he didn't think his village would be so stoked to have him back on new years with his sect brothers. you slipped out of the kitchen to greet him as the elders fussed over the boys that had come to visit. he leans over to greet you, feeling a small smile pull at his lips when you tousle his hair. his original plan might have been a little thwarted, but since you were here, he didn't really mind. ah, when he goes back to the sect, he should ask if the tailor was accepting any apprentices — if he were, and you came over, he might see you around more often in the coming year.

JIN GEUMRYONG wished he was anywhere else but here right now. but, as the eldest and prodigal son he should behave appropriately. he slips out of the banquet hall at the first opportunity, making shoddy excuses like needing to go to the restroom. he finds a spot in the quietest part of the estate, taking a moment to collect himself from the incessant social interaction he's had the whole day. soft footsteps approach him — really? he feels annoyed, but tries to reign back his distaste when he sees your smiling face beaming at him. go away. he tells you, not in the mood to deal with whatever you were about to drag him into. please? you'd beg, your hand pulling at his arm to get him on his feet. there was something you wanted to show him, and if he didn't go with you now, he was going to miss it! the man agreed reluctantly, letting you take him to the lake behind the hills. the night sky was clear and he could see every sparkling star in the sky. you sit on a fallen log, seemingly waiting for something to happen. he sits right by you, choosing not to question your actions. and then — there it was. the stars fell from the sky one after another, painting the night in long white painter's lines. he'd never seen anything like this in his life thus far, and he might not ever see it again. but it didn't matter. when you asked, doesn't it look amazing? he could only hum, unable to take his eyes off you all while your gaze was turned to the spectacle in the skies.

BAEK CHEON, for the life of him, can't decide which tassel he wanted to buy and ended up just getting a roll of thread in plum-blossom pink to make one on his own. the handiwork was clumsy, clearly amateurish with the bronze coin woven into the accessory. it certainly resembled the shape of a tassel — if you didn't look at the finer details too closely and for too long. you could see him look embarrassed at the quality and was already regretting giving it to you. but how could you not want his sincere gift? you loved it, flaws and all, because it was from him and you wanted to be reminded of the idea that this perfectionist still could make mistakes. you pull him down for a kiss. and then another. and another, until you were peppering his whole face in kisses because your heart couldn't handle this gap in his personality. your poor love, look at how red his face had become. he didn't know whether to be happy that you liked his gift this much, or feel shy at the public show of affection in a place where everyone in the sect could possibly see? you can't help but snicker mischievously as you skipped away from the scene — leaving the poor boy in a flustered mess.

#enihkwrites #return of the mount hua sect #return of the blossoming blade #return of mount hua #rotmhs #rotbb #cheong myeong #chung myung #chung mun #chung jin #tang bo #tang gunak #jang ilso #jin hyeon #lee songbaek #jin geumryong #baek cheon #baek chun #return of the blossoming blade x reader #return of the mount hua sect x reader #tang gunak my beloved i can't believe i'm going to see you in HD4K coloured glory in the webtoon soon #if they don't make him look like the LICO sexy old man (ie wudang elder style) yall are seeing me on the news #i need that middle aged man so bad it's so serious for me. #chronic dilf yearner syndrome #it's incurable babes

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Eco

Chapter Eleven

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Bobby, Bela, Dick Roman and Kobe Bryant mentioned (look, he wasn't supposed to be here but I did my research and well, he had to be), Anael, faceless paps

Word Count: 1683 with pictures

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, tour planning, brunch and shopping with Bela, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

“Okay, well the official schedule from the touring company arrived, so I have maybe a week to set up the promo interviews before they announce it publicly,” you said over the phone.

“Yeah, with Crowley it’s probably gonna be sooner. Annie’s gotta find someone to step in for the whole year with this so she’s already interviewing. Let me know if you need anything, because I’m just sitting on my hands until we’re actually rolling out,” Bobby replied solemnly.

The give me something to do, please, was implied.

“Check with Benny and his boys, I know the label is supplying some guys too, but I trust you to secure the crew and security schedules,” you said as you made another note on your ever increasing list of to do’s.

Two months may have seemed like a long time, but it was the shortest turn around you’d had for a tour since taking over as publicist for Phantom Traveler and you’d be damned if you fucked it up.

“With the holidays coming up, we’ll be in a pinch to get everything nailed down. But all the commotion with Bela and everything, people will be chomping at the bit to get actual news,” you added, staring unfocused at your computer monitor.

“And he’s got that interview coming up you said, just Dean for that one?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I really hope Meg doesn’t eat him alive. But it’s his chance to give his side of things and for people to see where his head is at now.”

“The sassy little brunette, right?”

“The very one.”

“Is it going to be a tit-for-tat thing? Is Cas gonna be next for a tell-all?”

“Bobby, I don’t think Cas would do an interview and talk bad about Dean even if they paid him. He’s moved on.”

“If you say so, Dean didn’t exactly play nice.”

“He must have had hundreds of offers for the dirt since leaving the band. And everything I hear about him now is just about the kid he’s working with and how they’re creating something unique.”

“I just know how that reporter liked him— the last time.”

“I’m sure she’s going in with the bias against Dean here. Time will tell if she can be swayed,” you admitted. “Plus, Dean won't be alone. We made sure there'll be a few of us there to make it easier.”

“To keep him from making a damned fool of himself you mean.”

“Basically.”

Bobby sat on the other end of the line with his gruff silence before continuing, “you going home for Christmas?”

“Yeah, got the usual stuff with my folks for Christmas Eve then I’m helping Ellen on Christmas day. I’m flying so I won’t be gone more than a few days. Probably end up spending half of it at airports with my luck.”

“Okay, just checkin’.”

“You guys have any plans?”

“Just service on the night before and maybe something with Annie’s cousins. Might just be a train of open houses.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I’d enjoy myself.”

You laughed and wrapped it up with a promise to touch base before you left town. The next two days were a whirlwind of emails and phone calls. You put off confirming brunch with Bela for Sunday, but relented from guilt, as she now had regular visits from paparazzi outside her townhouse due to her and Dean’s night club-hopping. You finished up your Saturday errands and plopped yourself onto your stationary bike in a last ditch effort to fend off your restlessness until it was a reasonable enough time to crash.

God, your life was so exciting.

Bela poured you another glass from the endless pitcher of mimosas. “Anyway, I guess Dean got us tickets to the Lakers’ game tomorrow night, like I actually care about baseball.”

“Basketball,” you corrected, taking a sip.

“Exactly,” Bela smirked.

“How good are the tickets? He doesn’t really follow it either,” you continued, worried they’d be in an embarrassing section.

“I think he said something about getting the label’s box for the game?” She tried to play innocent.

You almost spit out your drink. “The entire box?”

“It’s not floor seats’ exposure, but it will be worth it at least. I think he said he called in a favor with Dick?”

“Dick Roman is giving Dean access to his exclusive luxury box at the Staples Center?” You were floored, you opened your phone and googled who they were playing. “Holy fuck, they’re retiring Kobe’s number tomorrow. It’s going to be insane. There’s no way that box isn’t gonna be packed, but at least you can bump elbows with the uppity ups.”

“Kobe Bryant, yeah? He was quite prolific,” Bela seemed pleased. 

“Uh, yeah, played his whole career here,” you added, but put your phone away. Unwilling to text Dean a ‘wtf’ text while you still had another hour of drinks and foodstuffs to get through. “What are you going to wear?”

Bela slid her most compelling face on. “I was hoping we could find something together. It’s been ages since we drunk shopped. Plus, it’s the holidays so I will need to be a bit tipsy if I want to deal with the crowds.”

You had literally nothing left to buy for Christmas, but drunk shopping was a time-honored tradition between the two of you. Plus, it was fun watching Bela work her magic and pull a stunning outfit together out of seemingly discordant pieces.

“Three stores and I’m getting my own ride home, missy,” you warned with a firm pointer finger.

“Of course!” Bela chuckled and tucked into her eggs, eyes flitting back to you with conspiratorial delight.

You finished off your mimosa and finally saw to your french toast.

Bela’s driver took you to all of her favorite haunts and naturally she weaseled her way in to see the best stylists, at least those who were actually on hand on the Sunday afternoon before Christmas. At Sister Jo’s boutique, the owner herself greeted Bela with a double cheek kiss and hug. 

“What are you doing here? Wait, don’t tell me, you need an outfit asap because your little rocker boy toy needs arm candy,” the woman, who was actually named Anael, teased.

“You know me too well,” Bela replied. “This is my dear friend, Y/N, and we’re a bit on the tilt from brunch, but I simply had to come see you. I need something casual and sexy. It’s for a basketball game.”

You waved as she nodded in your direction, not wanting to break the momentum.

Anael frowned and looked Bela over, with much consideration. Then she hummed before asking, “how do you feel about hats?”

Nearly two hours and a top off on champagne later (to keep your buzzes going), you and Bela walked out of the shop with a bag each and a receipt ensuring Bela would be back in the morning for the alterations on the remaining garments.  

“Well, I’d say that was a successful outing,” Bela said with pride, the pink in her cheeks the only hint of her lingering inebriation.

“I’d say,” you agreed, opening the back door of her pre-ordered ride. “I still can’t believe they had something that would work for me for New Year’s.”

Bela waited on the curb until she could slide in the other side, but continued your trail of thought. “Anael is good people, if she likes something, she carries it. Doesn’t matter the size or price, she is all about how an outfit makes you feel,” Bela explained.

“Well, it worked, because I just spent more on myself than I have the entire year because of how good it felt on, so I get it,” you said, patting the bag at your feet.

Bela confirmed your address with the driver and then hers, thanking them for going out of their way in a way that she wasn’t actually apologizing for being a burden.

“You got eyes on you lady,” the driver warned, pointing towards the corner where a camera lens was trained on the car.

“Ignore them, they’ll find someone else before they follow us very far,” Bela promised and you could see her almost glaring at the rearview mirror for the driver to get the lead out.

You sat on the couch in your robe and sleep pants, hair still wet and wrapped on top of your head. You had crashed for a late afternoon nap after shopping and had rebounded with a blissfully long shower and skincare treatment. Now you watched mind numbing television and plotted out your schedule for the coming week. Even though it was cut short with holiday travels, it was full-to-bursting with things to get done.

You sighed and dragged out your suitcase from under your bed, dropped it on the couch and unzipped it to start packing. At least you could watch something while you organized. 

Just after ten your phone buzzed with a text message. You ignored it for a minute until you could find the remote beneath your pile of socks and paused your Lord of the Rings rewatch.

You stared at the conversation with the movie still paused, dumbfounded. One, that Dean sent you a goodnight text of all things and secondly that he was going to willingly give Bela his phone to post on social media about them. Because it’s not official until they’re both posting each other, or so they say. This was going to be big for the fan girls. You already knew Becky would be emailing you the second she saw it. But as far as fanclub presidents went, she wasn’t the worst. Then again, she would be more than a little bitter if Sam and Madison were the ones flaunting their relationship.

You put a reminder in your calendar to cover an extra sweep of SM while you were waiting out Dean’s interview Tuesday morning and then you tossed your phone back amongst your clothes. You were done for the night and so you shoved your half-packed suitcase on the floor and restarted the movie.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Twelve: Hook

#spotless series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean/reader #dean/bela #slow burn #rockstar au #fake dating

[randomfoggytiger]

Collector's Edition: Cars and Conversations (Part I)

Mulder and Scully have traveled a lot a lot a lot during their years in the basement-- surely, they had pretty cool conversations on the road?

Loose chronological order below~

@wexleresque/hellsteeth's

stars

As he climbs into the passenger seat of his father’s Lincoln, Fox yawns. The dashboard clock reads 5:03 AM and the smug tilt of his mother’s lips suggests that the early hour is the result of considerable negotiation. The tires crunch on the driveway and his mother waves at him absentmindedly from the porch as they depart. She doesn’t make a habit of smiling, but in the dark, Fox thinks something close might be on her face.

The drive is quiet this morning, save for the news on the radio and the whistle of the wind through the cracked window. Sunflower seeds sail over the glass and Fox takes a few out of the bag, chewing on them for something to do.

“How’s work, Dad?” he asks as they pass Fall River.

 Young Mulder is tossed back and forth by his begrudging parents.

the fbi basement bulletin board - Chapter 5 (Tumblr)

“Hm. Well you probably don’t need a medical professional to tell you this, but if you keep moving it around, it’s going to take longer to heal. You need to rest it.”

“Noted, doc. And you just missed the turn, by the way.”

S1 Mulder is bad at directions-- especially with a sprained wrist.

Local Radio (Tumblr)

Driving out to a little town in Indiana hadn't been in the original plan, but the business of Memorial Day weekend had removed flying as an option. They needed to reach their destination within 24 hours. So here they were, en route to another place that didn't even warrant a dot on the map (you've seen one, you've seen them all, he sometimes thought to himself).

Mulder is amused at a crazy radio station (and at Scully's reaction.)

Christine Leigh's (Alt. Ao3) Maybe?

"Okay, here we are." Maggie said this as she pulled off the highway and onto the road that would take them into Democrat Hot Springs. She was surprised that there wasn't more traffic. This town, if she remembered right, was supposed to be some sort of a resort area. Five more minutes, and they were in the parking lot looking up at the familiar sight of the neon arches, and that's all that mattered. 

Captain Scully is back from deployment; and Maggie senses something is off with her youngest daughter.

@thatfragilecapricorn30's (Ao3) Tell Me You Love Me - Chapter 1

“How do you know where I live?” he asked.

Scully’s cheeks reddened; she was hoping he wouldn’t notice or find her actions inappropriate. “It was, uh, it was in your personnel file. I wrote down your address after you called me at home after the last case. I figured I may need it at some point.”

Mulder smiled. “Just trying to see if you’ve been spying on me.”

Post Deep Throat Scully can't shed her keyed-up nerves after driving Mulder back home.

@scullywolf's (Ao3)

Eve

Her eyes narrowed. “How far up north?”

“California’s a big state, Scully.”

“I’m aware of that. How far?”

He decided there was probably something very interesting over in the corner that merited staring at while he answered. “About 300 miles. Give or take.”

Eve Mulder sheepishly wakes Scully.  

Red Museum

Sure, the old man wasn’t a member of the church, and similarities between him and Brother Andrew were all but nonexistent, but the cryptic “There’s something I’d like to show you,” with no further explanation, was enough to set her mental warning bells chiming. She was a grown woman, with a gun, but that didn’t mean she loved the idea of jumping into some random stranger’s truck after only the briefest of exchanges. Mulder joined her at the truck’s window, an unspoken question on his face.

Red Museum Scully communicates her anxieties to Mulder without a word.

Demons

The car company rep agreed to come and pick her up, and she sat down on the curb for only a minute or so before getting up again to pace off her nervous energy. A hundred horrible scenarios played themselves out in her head; at least ninety of them involved Mulder getting into car wrecks of varying degrees of seriousness. In order to keep herself from panicking, she tried to focus on the task at hand, which only made her angry that she was even in her current position in the first place.

Demons Scully has to call in a new rental car.

Drive

“All I’m saying,” she said pointedly, “is that it could be worse. We could be crammed in a room right now with a bunch of other agents, and instead we’re at least driving around through what you have to admit is some fairly scenic farmland.”

Mulder spared a moment to mourn their lost office. 

Drive Scully appreciates being out in the field with Mulder again.

Dreamland II

"...Mulder, I’m not proud of how long it took me to realize what was going on. I was about ready to drag you in for an MRI. Some sort of delayed-effect brain trauma from your trip out to the Queen Anne was the only thing I could think of to account for your dramatic change in behavior. Only it wasn’t you at all–”

“Well, you believe it now, and that’s all that matters. Now how do we fix things?”

Dreamland II Mulder and Scully catch up before heading back into the fray.

@cactustree's (Ao3) Fast Times and Slow Drives

She startles when she feels a warm hand on top of hers, and her eyes snap open as though jolted by an electric shock. She looks over to find Mulder studying her, his eyes darkened with concern.

“Watch the road, Mulder,” she murmurs, pulling her hand away from his.

“What’s wrong, Scully?”

Post Genderbender Mulder banters away Scully's apology with facts.

@h0ldthiscat's (Ao3, Alt. Ao3)

Survivor

She swats him away with one of her small hands when he touches her head and helps her into the car, but the look she shoots him lacks her usual antagonism, and the purse of her lips doesn't quite convince him that she's annoyed.

"Do you want another one of these before we hit the road?" He shakes a half-empty bottle of Gatorade at her as he slides behind the wheel, but she shakes her head once, firmly, and presses her lips together in a thin line, making them even whiter than they are.

Post Darkness Falls Mulder drives them home.

7. things you said while we were driving

She shoves the sunshade back up and clears her throat. “Can we go?”

He notices for the first time that her eyes are wet, that her chin is quivering despite her best attempts to control it. Remorse and guilt wash over him as he remembers an offhand comment from earlier in the week that explains her makeup, her nicer-than-usual suit, the set of her jaw. 

Post Never Again Mulder's remorse soothes Scully's feelings.

Can I ask for a fic tonight? :)

“Was the drive okay?” she asks.

Mulder jerks his head back to the still open door and says, “Ask your son, he drove.”

William appears in the doorway, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, tawny hair in his eyes. “It was fine, Mom.”

“Good,” she says, shooting daggers at Mulder with her eyes, daggers that say she can’t believe he let their son drive in a snowstorm....

AU-- Revival era Scully is not pleased Mulder let college age William drive back in a snowstorm.

@crossedbeams’s (Ao3) I-Spy

‘I love this song!’ I explain, whizzing the twizzler I have pilfered from Mulder’s junk food haul around in some vaguely rhythmic pattern. I love music I just lack the skill set to express that love very elegantly.

Mulder chuckles at my enthusiasm and cranks up the volume, ‘I never would have had you pegged as a Clapton fan’.

S1 Scully tells Mulder about her family road trips.

@slippinmickeys's (Ao3, Gossamer)

Prompt Drabble Collection - Chapter 25 (Tumblr)

The thing was, it was next to impossible to see out the windshield. 

Scully loved thunderstorms. Having spent a large portion of her youth in San Diego, they were still a novelty, even after years on other, more weather-prone bases and college campuses, and if she'd been home, she would have pulled up a chair next to her window and curled up there with a mug of tea, watching the light play in the sky and the water ping sharply against the glass. 

However, as a driver she was cautious, and with Mulder, well, she had a reputation to uphold: He was the engine. She was the brake. 

S1 Scully drives through a storm, donuts and a dozing partner included.

@brownies-and-tea/browniesandtea's Collect Call

“Mulder, it’s too late.” Scully sighed and leaned against the rain-streaked window of the car.

"I can't believe you're thinking fondly of that awful motel."

"I'm thinking fondly of a decent night's sleep." she stretched across the passenger seat.

S1 Mulder pursues a lead with Scully, from car to phone booth.

Ten's Learning to Breath (1/2)

In the elevator the women leaned him against one of the walls and kept talking to him, worried that otherwise he would go back to sleep and start sliding to the floor. Dana asked him questions, like his name and address, to keep him alert. She was relieved when she received the correct answers.

They got him into the backseat of Maggie's car, careful not to bump his head. Dana immediately raced around the car and got in the back herself. She fastened his seatbelt and watched as he leaned back against the headrest. He was asleep again before Maggie turned the key in the ignition.

AU-- Post One Breath Scully, Maggie, and Melissa are shocked at the state of Mulder's apartment.

J. C. Sun's Car Ride

My partner is next to me, as he always is, but for the first time in months, he's wearing his glasses. They make him look like an owl: a giant, somber six-foot owl perched in the driver's side seat. However, I doubt any owl has ever rolled his shirtsleeves up to the elbow and cradled a book in his lap, or chased the paranormal for a living. Nor do I think any owl has ever looked quite like him: the slightly twisted nose, the clear hazel eyes and the annoying, annoying little lock that, even now, droops across his forehead. It takes a wrench of will to resist the urge to reach out and to smooth it into place.

Post Firewalker Scully is bonded to Mulder now.

@seek-its-opposite/seek_its_opposite's

transient luminous events

He is still just standing there, the sleeves on the turtleneck he didn’t need to wear pushed up at the elbows. She is suddenly, vividly aware of the car, of the hot metal and the smell of rubber in stagnant humidity. Duane Barry’s trunk smelled like a spare tire. Her mouth goes cloth-gag dry.

“Can we?” she asks. She waves her hand at the road ahead and wonders how she’s so sure of this: He’d have known what she was asking even if she hadn’t.

“Sure,” Mulder nods. He looks relieved. He grabs their flashlights from the glove compartment and hands her one, and the flood of Pfaster’s headlights behind her eyes softens and clarifies into two beams that will never outrun her. And they walk.

Post Irresistible Scully confronts Mulder on his bubble-wrap method of protection.

if you weren't so

She tilts her chin up at him, at the usual angle, and finds that the geometry between them is the same.

“I need to talk to you,” she says. “Something’s happened.”

Behind him, his not-wife drags a recliner over the threshold in reverse, yelling at the houses that all look like hers.

“I have to talk to you alone.”

She says “alone” like she always says it and wonders if she meant to do that. There are days when she’s sure she could leave him in the dirt and still wind up in a room with him at the end of the world. As they slip behind the truck, she's gripped by the idea that to Joanne Fletcher, she is the woman Mulder shouldn’t be with.

AU-- Dreamland II Mulder and Scully try to find a way back to each other.

theramblinrose's Irresistible - Chapter 5/Chapter 6

“I didn’t know when I’d hear from you,” Mulder said.

“I’m at the airport,” Scully said. “I’ve got a car. I’m driving in. I just wanted to call before I left.”

“Anything wrong?” Mulder asked.

“No,” Scully said. “Honestly—everything’s feeling pretty right, Mulder.”

AU-- Irresistible Mulder and Scully are juggling their new relationship, a surprise pregnancy, and the fallout from the nefarious Pfaster.

eponine119's Same Old Fight

-Turn it back, he'd insisted, his knuckles white on the steering wheel with the effort of keeping the car on the narrow twisting road, This is making me jumpy.

-I don't know why I let you drive.

-You didn't have any choice.

-Mulder, pull over and let me drive.

-No.

S2 Mulder rescues Scully after their blowout fight almost ends with an explosive conclusion.

Sneakers/sneakers's

Walter Skinner's 'From Left Field

"But I don't see why Skinner should care about the book. It didn't mention *him*, and it didn't even use our names." Scully stood in front of the bookcase, scanning the shelves. "We didn't divulge anything classified; I'm sure the reading public thinks the whole think is a joke."

"But they had the nerve to claim I ate *twelve* piece of sweet potato pie!"

She pulled the book down. "Skinner's going to complain about your eating habits?"

"But I *hate* sweet potato pie, Scully. You know that, remember? I turned green at the gills last Thanksgiving, when your sister-in-law offered me some."

Post Jose Chung's From Outer Space Skinner has his thoughts on the book.

Sweet Home D.C.

"But the reception . . ." She looked out the window at the 1 AM darkness. "I think we both need to get some sleep. Turn the radio back on if you want to."

He did.

<< . . . Sweet home, Alabama . . . where skies are so blue . . . sweet home, Alabama . . . Lord, I'm coming home to you . . .>>

"That guy's got something wrong with his head, Scully."

Mulder and Scully, switching songs and swapping gum.

Evil_Little_Dog's

Cassadaga Bound

Dana squinted out the car window. "I don't think there's enough room in this town for all the witches, or demons, or devils in Florida, let alone the world."

S3 Mulder detours he and Scully to a fortune teller's.

Travelogue

“We’re not lost.” Mulder shot her a look then turned back to the road, correcting for the drift. “We’re directionally challenged.”

Making a guttural noise deep in her throat, Scully glanced out the window.

Mulder, the car, and a ditch.

@sunlightscully's (XF Writing Challenge - Food)

They have perfected the art of car eating. The driver orders and pays and hands the greasy bag over to be unpacked. The passenger unwraps the driver’s burger. They share fries.

When he pays she asks for the bare minimum and nothing too expensive. He orders extra large milkshakes and pretends he doesn’t see her stealing sips. They compensate for each other. Ketchup has not been spilled in years.

Mulder realizes he loves Scully.

Starbuck's (FFN) Wake Me When We Get There

"Shouldn't be much longer, Scully."

She made no acknowledgment, lying her head upon the seat once again. He continued driving as she drifted in and out of consciousness. White line. White line. Yellow line.

"Wake me when we get there, Mulder."

Mulder keeps the volume down so his partner can sleep on the long drive home.

@wtfmulder/@momdadimpoppunk's (Ao3) drabble; pay no mind

Scully paces around the car, branches and leaves snapping quietly under her weight. But she’s not angry, not at all, or nervous. She occasionally bends down to steal a sunflower seed from him and pauses to crack it before continuing her little loops.

Mulder and Scully find their own ways to entertain themselves when the rental car breaks down.

@incidental-ao3/incidental's Febuwhump 2023: The Truth is Out There (And the Fic is In Here) - Chapter 18

“No, Mulder, I should be keeping you awake, you’re the driver.”

“But I am awake,” he argued reasonably. “So there’s no reason for you to torture yourself when you could catch another few hours’ rest.”

“Don’t be dramatic, it’s not torture,” she scoffed. He smirked.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said. She scowled sleepily.

Scully tries not to fall asleep, and Mulder ruminates on life before lights.

@mulderbabe77's Taco Stands and Regrets

He pushed down a little harder on the gas pedal.

“Are you gonna throw up?” He gulped, hoping to hear a no.

“Nope,” she answered and for a moment he almost sighed with relief. “The other thing, I think,” she finished, grimaced again and held a hand to her cramping stomach.

“I’m on it!” He sped the car up a little more.

Ten minutes later they could see the exit just ahead. Mulder was shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Mulder and Scully both get food poisoning while on the road.

@hamster-on-fire/fade_into_the_dusk_with_me’s For The Sake Of Driving (Ao3)

They’d do this sometimes. Drive. They were always driving, it seemed. But when it was dark like this & he was scared like this, or tired like this, or just utterly numb like this, it was different. The curve of the road up ahead could feel like a whole conversation; the silence, an opening, & they’d both sit there, like staring at a sterile wound.

Mulder and Scully help each other decompress on long, long car drives late into the night.

Timemeantnothing's On the road again

“We helped keep the Germans from getting Thor’s Hammer.”

“Mhmm,” Scully hummed, turning the corner.

“It was Einstein, Scully. We protected Albert Einstein.���

“That was very good of us to do.”

Mulder and Scully, driving: hot ladies, aliens, cheek kisses, Triangle rambles, and Millennium contentedness.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

**Note**: I am a "separate the art from the artist" person through-and-through; but my lists will no longer be featuring writers that have blocked me-- tooooooo much drama has been kicked up over that issue.

#txf #Collector's Edition #fic #Cars and Conversations #h0ldthiscat #seek_its_opposite #scullywolf #wtmulder #Timemeantnothing #mulderbabe77 #hamster-on-fire #fade_into_the_dusk_with_me #Starbuck #sunlightscully #Evil_Little_Dog #cactustree #browniesandtea #incidenal #Sneakers #theramblinrose #J. C. Sun #eponine119 #slippinmickeys #thatfragilecapricorn #crossedbeams #wexleresque #hllsteeth #mine #xfiles #x-files

[chouxsardine]

The Lucky Ones -- Danny Wagner x reader

Summary: Does superstition still work its magic when it comes to love? --a spontaneous new year tradition leads to confessions between you and Danny

Pairing: Daniel Wagner x reader

Word Count: 3229

Warnings: mention of alcohol, cussing, superstitions, slight allusion to previous abusive relationship, insecurity

Genre: fluff, COTTON-CANDY-GRAPE LEVEL OF SWEETNESS, friends to lovers

Author's note: Here is a VERY LATE Danny's Birthday/New year fic and also my first time writing Danny! Inspired by the viral tiktok trend about amusing new year traditions. I find them very interesting. I wish everyone a belated happy new year and all the best wishes. Please enjoy :))

🎧: The Lucky Ones by Lana Del Rey (by now titles from song is canon lol I'm so sorry)

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

You have always been a superstitious person, not religious, not believing in magic or the supernatural, just superstitious. Yes, you do believe ghosts exists, and you try to cover your eyes and ears when watching horror films. You hold awe and veneration for some “higher power” like your primitive ancestors. Since childhood, you have always been meticulous about the details, from the direction in which your slippers are pointing at when you take them off before bed to what to eat for breakfast the day of your school theatre showcase. Growing up, many people misunderstood your behavior as symptoms of OCD, but only you know that it is merely the result of your obsession with coincidences and the compulsion to recreate the happiness they have brought to your life; far from being diagnosed as an disorder.

You are going to spent the New Year’s Eve with Danny. You have known each other since you were little kids and have been best friends for over two decades. Friends and families have been teasing you two about being together, and almost everyone thought at least one of you was going to make a move during Christmas. But, alas, nothing happened as the days passed, and here you are, about to draw an end to another year of your friendship. Your feelings for Danny have certainly have developed beyond just platonic level, but you also didn’t want to ruin the precious friendship you have built throughout the years. Plus, you have to admit that you are waiting for a sign. Ah, yes, it is your superstition at work—you believe that there will be an omen indicating the time is ripe to confess your true feelings for Danny. It is not very often that he gets a break from touring and returns home. For now, you just want to be close to him, spend quality time together, and create more memories.

It is safe to say that you nearly jumped off the couch when you saw the trend about “eating twelve grapes under the table at midnight of New Year’s Day for good luck.” How are you only seeing this the afternoon of December 31st? You are already at Danny’s, and the only food you brought over is your renowned passion fruit cheesecake.

“Danny? Do you have any grapes left?”

“What?” Danny yells back from downstairs.

“Do we have any grapes?” You look around the room. The fruit bowl on the counter is filled with limes, which are for making margaritas later. Oh, you should have known better.

“I don’t think so. Do frosted grapes count?” Danny enters the living room and opens the fridge door.

You watch expectantly as Danny opens the freezer section. To your disappointment, there are only five freezer-burned round objects that could hardly be identified as grapes huddled together in a ziplock bag.

“What’s wrong, y/n? Suddenly craving some grapes?” Danny asks amusingly.

“No…well, yes,” You defeatedly close the fridge door and show Danny the post you just read. “It says you’re supposed to eat grapes for good luck.”

“Hum…”Danny’s eyebrows knit in concentration as he skims the article. “I think grocery stores are still open today.”

That’s the thing about Danny. Although you try to hide your superstitious behavior from others, you are never afraid to be yourself in front of him. Instead of thinking you are weird or childish, Danny finds your “little rituals” cute and endearing. He never presses on with questions, which only makes you more willing to explain them to him. And Danny is one hell of a listener.

Nothing compares to the last grocery run of the year. Maybe last-minute Christmas shopping comes in a close second. You are prepared for sensory overload when you see the preoccupied parking lot.

“Looks like everyone forgot something for their dinner,” Danny pulls open the passenger’s side door. Panic suddenly struck you.

“What if everyone has read about it and grapes were sold out?”

“I guess we will find out in a minute.”

Your worries almost became reality. There were only a few bags left on the fruit shelf, and they were obviously being picked over—from the plastic packaging, you saw a few were squished and watery, the ones near the bottom looked withered and brown. But you were positive that you could knock together twenty-four grapes from them.

“I swear you’re my lucky star, Danny. I bet there would be none left if you didn’t come with me.” You sigh in relief as you put all the remaining three bags into the cart.

“That’s a lovely to hear, y/n. Anything else we need for auspiciousness?” Danny asks half-jokingly.

“Actually, we do!” You remember the title of the little pop-up link as you scrolled to the end of the article and saw it mentioned collard greens and black-eyed peas.

Collard greens were easy to find; the panic threatened to twist your stomach again when you didn’t see any canned black-eyed beans.

“Kidney beans…chickpeas…romano…lentils….” Your eyes move fast down each row. “They only have bags of dry beans and we don’t have time to soak and boil them!”

Danny is scanning the label with you until he reaches to the top shelf and grabs a can of mixed beans.

“Look, there’s black-eyed peas in mixed beans. We can just pick them out,” Danny suggests.

“Oh my god, that’s genius!” You perk up immediately.

“Just making good use of my height advantage, I guess,” Danny beams.

On the way home, you are humming along to Queens playing in the radio and clutching the grocery bag containing a bundle of collard greens, a can of mixed beans, and three bags of grapes in your arms, as if you are taking home a puppy from the shelter. Danny couldn’t help but smile at your little expressions of contentment; he loves how you are always able to preserve the childlike innocence to appreciate all the tiny beautiful things.

As soon as you get back home, you dive into further research. By dinner, you had watched a dozen of different videos and five more articles about how exactly one should eat the grapes, answering your question of which colour grapes should you eat (both are fine, and you made sure to buy both red and green ones), whether you should eat them at the countdown to the new year or the first minute of the new year (the latter) , and whether you should sit under a table while eating it (answers vary on this one, but you decided to do it under the table anyways).

Danny is washing the grapes at the kitchen sink.

“Y/n, do you want to pick out the twelve you’re gonna eat?” He asks as he drains them in the strainer basket.

“Oh yes! Thanks for washing them, Dan,” You scamper over. Danny looks so cozy and relaxed in his sweater. His curls tied back into a small pony tail, a few stubborn strands framing his face. The hot, attractive drummer on stage that has the fans screaming and swooning is so different from the huggable human-sized teddy bear that you get to see a lot more often, but it still has the little girl inside you all rosy-cheeked and fluttered nonetheless. For a moment, you are lost appreciating his profile, his lips slightly pursed, long eyelashes casting shadows as he looks down in concentration. The grapes look delicate in between his strong and lean fingers.

“Y/n?”

You are pulled back from your thoughts and bump right into Danny’s mossy brown eyes staring at you. You feel your cheeks getting hotter. Is it still normal to feel the butterflies even after you’ve been friends for so long?

“You are doing this together with me, are you?” You ask as you hold up two grapes to the light, turning and inspecting them as a gemologist. You never wanted to push your own habits and rituals onto others. You have learned from that mistake in past relationships and have since been careful about not coming across as the superstitious version of the lunatic “horse girl”. Although Danny has been considerably supportive about this—buying the grapes with you, coming up the clever solution with the beans, and now this grown ass man is leaning over the kitchen counter and being the judge of a “grape beauty pageant” —the insecurity deep down still peeks around the corner.

“Of course, my dear. I wouldn’t say no to some good luck for the new year.” You can tell Danny’s smile is genuine. Upon seeing the curve of his lips, you could heard the bubbles of second thoughts in your mind popping.

“Look, we even got the cotton candy kind of grapes, those are your favourite.” Danny holds up a bunch of particularly green and shiny grapes.

You almost let out a chirp at the sight of it. You must’ve ignored the label as you hurriedly picked them up at the store. As the name suggested, they do taste like cotton candy. When your teeth break open the skin, the juices are like pure honey pouring down your throat. “And they make the best frosted grapes too!”

“You’re right. We can make another batch with the left overs to ‘replenish our frosted grapes arsenal’.”

You feel a warm, tingling sensation on your palms. Itchy palms are a good sign, right?

Half an hour to the new year, you have already situated yourself under the bar table in the kitchen, the only table in the entire house that is high and spacious enough for two grown adults to crouch under.

“Mind your head!” You extend your hand to pad the underside of the table as Danny gets down on his knees and scoots next to you, almost bumping his head.

“Ooops, close call,” Danny sat down cross-legged. “You know what, I just realized my house probably wasn’t the safest if there was an earthquake or something.”

“Shhh….Danny!” Out of your superstitious habit, you immediately put your fingers on his lips to shush him without much thinking. “Knock on wood!”

Danny pliantly knocks three times on the table above his head, laughgin at your seriousness.

You withdraw your hand, the softness of his lips lingering on your finger tips. “I don’t think this little table is going to do much anyway if it really comes to that,” you said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

The phrase came out his mouth so naturally, without a single second of hesitation. It transported back you into the time in kindergarten when you were pushed aside while waiting for you turn to play on the slide, you looked up through tear-blurred vision; the time when you were on a camping trip and you were nervous about stepping off from the canoe onto the river bank; the time in the scary escape room where your palms were all sweaty and your teeth were biting your bottom lip so hard that it almost drew blood…all these times, there were always a pair of steady hands beside you and a calming voice saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

You quickly blink a few times, getting back to reality and focusing on the two plates in front of you. It must looked like the weirdest “Girl Dinner”—a forkful of boiled collard greens, one tablespoon of black-eyed peas rinsed and drained straight out of the can, and twelve grapes (six green and six red).

“Okay, enlighten me on how to do this,” Daniel asks.

“So I looked into it a bit more. We are supposed to eat each grape along with each chime of the clock once it strikes twelve, but realistically I don’t think anyone can do that without choking, so we just have to make sure we finish all of them by 12:01. Then we eat the veggies and the beans.”

“Uh-huh, weird combinations,” Daniel muses.

“I know. That’s why I got us champagne afterwards to wash it all down.” You point to the two glasses not very far from you.

“Damn. All teed up.”

“Oh I almost forgot! One more very important thing: you are supposed to think about the wishes for the new year as you eat the grapes, one for each month!”

Your palms grew slimy again as your eyes glued to the counting down on the phone screen.

“Oh my gosh, Danny we are doing this…six, five, four, three, two, one!”

You close your eyes and start popping grapes into your mouth one by one. The excitement and adrenaline crush down the twelve preformed coherent wishes in your mind into word soup. Apart from the recurring ones like “health,” “safety,” and “happiness,” the letters spelled “Danny” again and again. Wishing Danny to stay happy and healthy, luck and success for the band and touring, hoping you get to see Danny more, spend more time with Danny, be with Danny….

You swallow down the last bite of your grapes as you open your eyes. You see Danny looking at you, smiling, his cheeks still puffed like a hamster from chewing. There is something magical about seeing the person you wished for right there the moment you open your eyes. It is like seeing the fairy godmother popping up on your birthday cake after blowing out the candles. You giggle as you both devour the greens and the beans, and your glasses clink together as you gulp down the champagne, releasing the satisfied “ahhh” exhale afterward.

“Oh wow.” You hold up the phone. The both of you watch as the seconds tick to 00 and the minutes change from 0 to 1.

“Happy New Year, Y/n.”

“Happy New Year, Danny.”

You two still sit in the not-so-comfortable position under the table, listening to the echoes of the chimes and the sound of fireworks in the distance, savouring the imaginary freshness of the new year, taking it all in like sniffling the smell of ink on the crispy pages of brand new books. Suddenly, you feel the warm feeling slipping away from you, as if visualizing a red line dropping on a thermometer. You don’t know if it’s the sight of the empty dishes and glasses or the adrenaline ebbing away, you aren’t prepared for the previously tamed insecurity to suddenly resurface. The aftertaste of the grapes turned sour in your mouth and made your skin crawl.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Sensing the change in your mood, Danny turns to you, immediately finding your hands and soothingly brushing circles on your palm with his thumb.

“Danny, are all these…am I…too much?” Your voice are incredibly quiet, fearing it will break. Before Danny can answer, you continue, “do you think this is too….childish and crazy?”

“Okay, y/n, take a deep breath,” you felt the warmness of Danny’s hands steady on either side of your cheek, grounding you in his loving gaze and gentle touch, “you’re not going to cry on New Year’s Day, that’s not good.”

You take in a shaky breathe, trying your best to ease the stinging feeling in your eyes as the tears threatened to spill.

“Good girl. Now, talk to me. What happened? Why are you sad all of a sudden?”

“Danny, I just felt like…” you are plagued by the flashback of the hurtful words of your ex, it still stings as you recite them, “I need to grow up and quit these stupid superstitious nonsense, quit fooling around like a five-year-old…and, and treating everyone around me like one!” You inhale deeply again to regulate your breathing.

“No, y/n. Look at me, and listen.”

“You don’t make eye contact with the microwave timer when it’s has 13 seconds remaining. You always try your best not to step on cracks on the pavement, which makes you sometimes do those goofy strides. You always visit every wishing well in the cities we travel to.”

Your eyes widens as Danny recounts each of your weird little habits chapter and verse. Wait, he remembered all of them?

“I don’t give a fuck what other people have said about them, and I wish you don’t either.” Danny always tries not to swear in front of you, so you know he really means it when he pulls out those words.

“They are what makes you…you. They are an essential part of being y/n, and that’s important. You should never second-guess or change yourself just because some asshole yaps about it. Remember that one time you told me you always cling on superstitions because you feel like good things don’t often happen to you in life, so when they do, you want to remember the way they come and try to make sure they visit the next time?”

You nod, your heart melting.

“Hearing that breaks my heart, y/n, because I think you deserve all the good things in life. It’s my wish that in the new year, this beautiful, kind, and wonderful girl in front of me will stay away from toxic people, keep the people that love and cherish her close, and always prioritize her own well-being.”

“My wish and my luck is seeing you be happy, you know that? I’m the luckiest man in the world when my girl is the happiest.”

“Danny…” You lean into his touch, closing your eyes for a few seconds to savour the moment. You feel like an air ballon fueled by the love in your heart, free and fearless.

“I really like you, y/n,” he said, “as a friend and more than a friend.”

“I like you too, Danny. My feelings are mutual.” The words automatically fall out your lips, as if they have been prepared for this moment for years.

“Yeah? You know what my other wishes are? I hope y/n can be my girlfriend. I want to prove to her how lucky and deserving she is of all the good things.” He is looking at you as if you are the most precious being in the whole world, and in this moment, you truly are.

“I think…I can make that wish come true.” You say timidly, your hands also cupping his jaw. You can feel the pulse on his neck, eager and quick.

“You know it’s also good luck to kiss loved ones on new year’s day, right?” He whispers as he draws your chin to pull you close. Without any hesitation, you attach your lips to his. The kiss is soft and loving, with the residual sweetness of cotton candy grapes.

Because you were closing your eyes and making your wish, little did you know, Danny was watching you every time he popped a grape into his mouth. Every wish he whispered silently in his heart is related to you. He hoped that you’d be by his side for all the twelve upcoming months. He would be the happiest man in the world if even one of your wishes included him.

It turned out that good things don’t always need a sign to happen. True love is always on the hunt; it may creep up on you or catch you by surprise, but either way, it will always find you in the end.

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

Yeah! you made it! Thank you SO MUCH for reading :))

any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated

Do let me know if we want a tag list :D

Some more of my works: Mariner's Complex || Permission to Fall

Ticked (all my boxes) || Love is a four-legged word

#danny wagner x reader #danny wagner fluff #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #danny wagner

[assortedseaglass]

The Seamstress & The Sailor - Chapter Nine

Tom Bennett x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Language, sexual assault, World on Fire spoilers.

Word Count: 7K

Note: Oh boy, this chapter is a *juicy* one. I’ve put in the warnings sexual assault, the scene will not be graphic but the warning is there. Please take care if you find this sort of thing triggering. Here we go pals…

New Year’s Eve 1939

The tinkling of laughter drifted through the open bedroom door, and Cora giggled from her seat at the vanity table.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it? Hearing them altogether.”

Bess hummed and watched her sister carefully tuck hair behind her headscarf. She looked just like Etta. It was 8 in the morning, and the two girls were readying themselves for a day of work. Dot was dressed and downstairs, talking to their father and Albie, the third Vaughn child, returned from war.

On the bed, Bess sat with her feet curled beneath her bottom as she read Tom’s last letter for the hundredth time. It was dated 13th December 1939. He had written it the day the Exeter was hit.

“Makes me less scared of dying. I’m just one bloke.”

What if he was dead? Had he been scared? Was it quick or did he die in a drawn-out frenzy of screams and terror? Bess screwed her eyes shut and pinched the back of her hand. The tears that threatened to fall disappeared.

“I’ve told the lads all about the dark-haired Vaughn girl and they’d love to get a look at you. You know you’re gorgeous –“

From behind the letter, Bess revealed the photograph of Tom. He thought she was gorgeous. Him, with his mischievous blue eyes and boyish smile, the curve of his lips and his broad shoulders. His height and his strength. His iron will and cocksure swagger. Tom Bennett thought Bess Vaughn was gorgeous. She blushed and looked at the mirror to examine herself. Cora was looking back at her.

“No telegram is good news, Bess,” she seemed to know what Bess was doing, what she was thinking. “We all miss him.”

Bess placed the letter in the biscuit tin, shoved it under the bed and ran downstairs without a word. When she entered, Albie moved a plate of toast towards her.

“Not for me,” though she kissed the top of his head all the same. “What are you doing with your day?”

“Going to see some of the other lads. Might pay poor Walter Watson a visit, see how he’s holding up.” The Vaughn children smirked, for Fergal had no idea just how Walter had broken his arm. “Then, of course, the new year dance.” Albie grabbed Dot and swung her around the kitchen, her shrieks and laughter near rattling the china.

“You enjoy yourselves my darlings.” Fergal said from his perch by the stove. His face was pale and his eyes were tired. He had been to see Douglas Bennett the night previous and had returned home on the milk float. Still, he was happy to have Albie home and that was all Bess could ask for. Almost.

Cora edged down the stairs, lipstick and hair perfectly in place. Ever since Roger came along, Cora had been glowing. Bess smiled at the sight of her older sister. She was in love, and my God, did she deserve it.

“Ready, Vaughns? Minus you Albie, of course.” Cora called to the kitchen at large.

“Can’t believe they’re making you work on New Year’s Eve.”

“No rest for the wicked,” said Bess, shouldering her satchel.

“And you’re the wickedest of them all,” Albie said and Bess pinched his belly. From the corner of the kitchen, Dot sniffled. They all turned to her.

“It’s so good to have you home, Albie.” She burst into tears. Bess and Albie laughed as he moved towards his little sister.

“Stop being soft. You’re eighteen now!” He wrapped his arm around her. “Come on, I’ll walk you to work.” And together, the five Vaughns stepped into the December day, each feeling the hope of the new year more fully than ever before. From across the street, Lois watched the family smiling and laughing together as they walked to work arm in arm. Behind her, Douglas sat at the kitchen table, the newspaper and cereal before him untouched.

✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼

“It’s so wonderful to have all the boys back, isn’t it?” Queenie Warren’s girlish voice carried across the canteen, echoing Cora’s sentiment from the morning. Bess stared at her spam sandwich and placed it back in its brown paper. “Well. Most of the boys.” Queenie corrected herself and dabbed away a crocodile tear. Bess’ mouth curled in disgust at her overt display of despair for Tom, and Roberta elbowed her in the ribs.

“How’s Frank, Queenie?” Roberta asked her.

“Hm?” Queenie looked across at her, unused to being addressed by the fearsome girl. “Oh, he’s grand. Taking me to the dance tonight. Will you both be there?” Bess and Roberta nodded. “And Hattie too? I’m looking forward to meeting this fella of hers. Shame Jude can’t be there. Who are you two going with?”

Queenie knew full well that no men had asked Bess and Roberta. “My brother.”

“Oh,” Queenie said sweetly. “Isn’t that lovely.”

“Christ,” Roberta muttered and Bess laughed sadly.

The bell rang, signalling the end of their lunch break, and the three women made their way back to the warehouse floor. Bess inched closer to Roberta and whispered in her ear.

“If I push her off the wing, you run her over with the truck.” Roberta guffawed and Bess winked. “See you later.”

If she discounted Queenie’s girlish social commentary, the rest of the day passed in relative ease for Bess. The foreman had a gramophone brought into the warehouse and played Glenn Miller and Benny Goodman on repeat. Bess loved American big band and was enjoying its gradual emergence in the dancehalls of Manchester. Her mind had been so filled with thoughts of Tom Bennett for the past two weeks, that she felt guilty for the anticipation growing in her stomach. But the prospect of dancing, and drinking, made Bess quiver with excitement. Maybe, for an hour or two, she could play make believe. Pretend to be happy. The remaining hour of her shift was spent imagining the compliments she would get for the dress already hanging at home. Imagining swaying in someone else’s arms, with no obligation but to share a dance with them. The bell rang.

“Bess!” Roberta was already waiting at the door. Bess jumped down the ladder from the wing, stored her tools and strolled towards her best friend. Queenie hurried passed.

“See you later, girls.” Bess gave a mock salute.

“At least with the boys back, she’ll leave us alone.” Roberta said as she offered Bess a cigarette. They exited the factory gates. The air was crisp and across the horizon, smoke funnelled from the factory chimneys. Bess admired the bleak beauty of it all, and her eyes fell on a solitary figure leant against the gate. Douglas Bennett, collar turned up against the cold, ready to pedal away on his bike, Peace Paper tucked into his bag. Seeing him there made Bess think of a Lowry painting, and she was just wondering whether she would populate the painting with more gloomy figures or leave Douglas the sole subject when Roberta shrieked.

“Albert Vaughn, put me down!”

“Good to see you, Bobbie.” Albie laughed and placed her back on the ground.

“Silly beggar,” Roberta huffed as she clutched her chest. Bess smacked her brother’s arm and left them to catch up. When she approached him, Douglas touched his cap the way he always did and Bess was utterly charmed by him.

“How are you?” she asked him. He fidgeted with the handlebars of his bike.

“No news is good news.” Behind them, Albie and Roberta laughed.

“I’m sorry, Douglas, about Albie-”

“Nonsense.” He cut her off firmly. “Don’t you dare apologise. It’d be selfish of me to wish away your happiness. God knows I’ve had enough sadness not to press it on other people.” The honest vulnerability of his statement took Bess’ breath away, and she covered his hand with her own.

“Douglas,” Albie appeared at his sister’s side and shook hands with the older man. Bess turned and saw Roberta striding down the road.

“Good to see you back, lad.” Douglas smiled warmly, and Bess was amazed at how genuine it was.

“Hop on, Bess.” Albie gestured to his own bike. “Give Douglas a break from carting you around.”

Bess opened her mouth in mock offense and Douglas laughed. “Ah, she’s alright.”

“You don’t have to lie to me Douglas, I know she’s a lump-” Bess hit his arm harder than before and Albie laughed with Douglas. She sat gracefully on the handlebars and leant back. Even through the multiple layers of coat and jumper, Bess could feel the bones of her brother’s chest. The war wasn’t being kind to him, no matter how jovial he tried to seem. In an odd way, she wished she was on Douglas’ bike instead. Bess loved resting against his broad shoulders as he cycled her home at the end of a shift and, if the wind was in the right direction, she could smell the detergent Lois used. The one that smelt like Tom.

Douglas and Albie cycled side by side the two miles from the factory to their street. At just two o’ clock, the brisk afternoon was still bright, and Bess relished the kiss of the cold on her cheeks as they sped down the ginnels and backstreets of Manchester. Albie made a point to hit every cobble, pothole and bump in the road, and Bess was giddy with glee when they turned into their street. Douglas smiled next to them as her laughter pealed through the grey day. The sound of Bess’ voice had become such a source of comfort to him over the months since Lois and Tom left. With Lois home, he hadn’t heard it for a while, and his chest swelled. Never did he think he would miss the company of quiet Bess Vaughn, or that a woman like her would want his. He took his eyes off his path for a moment to revel in Albie and Bess’ youthful joy. A flash of blue and yellow skirted his periphery. His head whipped around and the bike slammed to a halt as his foot skidded off the pedal. Shocked by Douglas’ sudden loss of control, Bess looked at him. His eyes were glazed and though she couldn’t hear, she saw him mouth one word as she and Albie passed on their bike. She gasped and followed Douglas’ eyes.

“Oh my God,”

“Christ, Bess!” Albie shouted, for Bess had tried to dismount the still moving bike. She lurched off the handlebars as it stopped unexpectedly, stumbling a little. At the sudden commotion, the source of their scuffle looked up.

Beneath the cap and sweep of blond hair, blue eyes gleamed with barely supressed satisfaction. A roguish grin spread across the man’s face, recognition flickering there as he realised he was the cause of the fuss. Moving slowly from Douglas, to Albie, his eyes landed on Bess and she blushed. The sailor pushed himself off the wall to greet the stunned party.

“Tom,” Douglas came to a standstill before his son.

“Alright, Dad? Brought you a canary.” He held up the cage and the silent trio glanced at it. Tom smirked at their confusion.

“What the fuck is that!?” Albie was first to break the silence, laughing as he grabbed Tom in an enthusiastic hug.

“Found a bird in Argentina.” The friends laughed as Douglas unlocked the door, glancing at his son every now and again in shock. Bess hadn’t moved. Couldn’t move. He was alive. Bright and brilliant and alive. And stood in front of her. Over Albie’s shoulder, Tom caught Bess’ distant, disbelieving gaze and smiled at her.

“Hi,” he said, looking her over just a little. Fuck, his voice. Fuck, he was handsome. Simultaneously, Bess wanted to kiss and slap him.

“Hi,” she breathed giddily.

“Tom,” Albie’s voice sharpened Bess’ senses and she swayed a little on the spot, arriving back at reality. “New Year’s Eve dance tonight? Your Lois is singing.”

Tom looked at Bess as he replied. “I wouldn’t miss it. What time are you going?”

“We’re leaving around eight.” Albie hadn’t seemed to notice that Tom was ignoring him. Instead, Tom’s blue eyes bore into Bess’ brown ones.

“Eight o’clock,” he whispered.

“Tom?” Douglas motioned for him to come inside.

“See you then,” he winked at Bess and disappeared. She turned and marched through their own front door.

“You alright?” Albie called up the stairs.

“Yeah, just tired. Gonna lie down.” Bess slammed the door to the small bathroom, grabbed a flannel from the linen closet and ran the faucet. She swiped the cloth under the cold tap and fumbled with her slacks and shirt. Stripping down to her underwear, she took the cloth and held it to her chest, a few trickles of icy water running between her breasts. Bess shuddered and moved the flannel between her thighs. Her head tipped forward and she fought to still her erratic breathing.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

She gripped the sink and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Despite the cold of the day and the water dripping down her legs, a pink flush covered her chest and face. Her eyes were heavy and she could feel every feather-light hair on her neck standing to attention. Slowly, she dragged her weary body into the bedroom and collapsed on top of the turned down bed. Without hesitation, without warning or without care, Bess began to laugh. Fat, salty tears welled in her eyes and fell into her hair. Hysterical sobs wracked her body and she buried her face in her pillow.

He was alive.

✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼

“Think we’ll have to go with one rasher each.” Douglas stood frying bacon over the stove, his back to his son sat smoking at the table.

“Don’t worry, double rations when you’re under fire.”

Douglas chortled. “Give over,”

“I was cooking all the way through the battle,” Tom smirked, glad to be home and have a moment of normalcy with his dad. “Slice of my fried bread sunk a U-boat.”

Douglas flipped the bacon and remembered his own experience of war. “You don’t have to pretend to be brave for me, lad.”

“Good,” Tom spoke almost before Douglas had finished. “’Cos I’m not going back.”

“What?”

“I’m not going back, I’m deserting.” Douglas’ smile faltered. Tom wasn’t joking. “S’why I came home to you, cos I knew you’d be the one to help me.”

Ignoring the sizzle of the pan, Douglas turned to watch his son. Tom’s head was bowed as he looked at him through blond lashes, eyes sad.

“God, you look like your mother,” Douglas whispered.

“Dad. Please. Will you help me?” The sincerity of Tom’s voice scared him. Memories of nightmares clouded his mind. Images of Tom drowning. Of being shot. Of being blown into a million irrecoverable pieces. Douglas placed his hands in his pockets.

“Give me a day or two, to think of a plan. Just enjoy yourself for now, and let it from your mind.” He turned back to the stove, and the men were silent.

✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼

It was almost as if the war was not happening. From the kitchen below, the three Vaughn girls could hear the warble of the wireless and rumbling laughs of Fergal, Albie and Roger. Roger wore his dress uniform for the occasion, powder blue and spotless. Albie, in his usual suited slacks, tie a little skewwhiff but handsome all the same. Dot had finally mastered her curling tongs and persuaded Cora into using them on her too. As ever, Bess sat smoking a cigarette in the window.

“You look like a film star,” Dot said dreamily, and Bess blew her a kiss. She knew she looked incredible. The waist of the red dress she had chosen was gathered dramatically, the skirt tightening over her bottom and falling in a straight line down her legs. It stopped narrowly above her ankles. The halter of her bodice highlighted the curve of her breasts, the Grecian straps of the capped sleeves trailed fabric down her back and revealed a daring square of pale skin. Her hair was fluffed and parted to one side (she had seen a picture of Rita Hayworth pinned up in the foreman’s office) and swept back off her shoulders. Rouge was mottled lightly on her lips, as though she had just been kissed; what with her hair and the dress, one could have too much red. The black trench coat she made last winter was hung on the door, she had seen Lauren Bacall wearing one similar. The dress she had picked before she knew Tom was home. The rest; the hair, the makeup, the severe coat and heels, she had decided on that afternoon. It was New Year’s Eve, the boys were home, and Bess Vaughn was dressed to kill.

Dot wore the dress Bess made her for her eighteenth. Pastel pink, bias cut, and adorned with a beaded flower brocade. Cora was elegant in black, waist cinched below the bust with red carnations at the hip. The Vaughns, despite their little money, were the most fashionable girls for miles. A great cheer rang from the kitchen.

“That’s Tom!” Dot cried and ran excitedly downstairs. Cora gave herself one last glance in the mirror then turned to Bess.

“What?” Her sister asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Cora winked. “Don’t forget your coat.” She left the room. Bess put out her cigarette and took a deep breath. Walking to the mirror, she donned her coat and smoothed her hair. Trying to disguise the nerves threatening to take over her body she winked at herself, grabbed her cigarettes and lipstick, and made her way into the kitchen.

“All the nice girls love a sailor, all the nice girls love a Tar,” Cora was singing affectionately as Tom twirled her around.

“We’ve got a full set tonight!” Fergal laughed. “Pilot, soldier, sailor-”

“Who’s the tinker and who’s the thief?”

Everyone turned to Bess and Tom swallowed with difficulty. At sea, he frequently imagined Bess. More often than not, he imagined her sat at the piano or sewing by the kitchen table. Sometimes she was sat smoking on the front step or giggling with her sisters. When he did something stupid or made a mischief of himself, he heard her make some sarcastic comment. But not once had he remembered her this way. Stood there on the stairs, hair glowing from the flicker of the fireplace, she looked like a goddess. Tom adjusted his trousers and took a subconscious step away from Fergal.

“Off we go!” Albie stood and clapped his hands.

“See you next year, Dadda!” Dot gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Get away with you,” he laughed. One by one the group spilled into the street. Dot chattered to Albie the whole way to the dancehall, with Cora and Roger linked arm in arm, totally unaware of anything outside their loved-up state. Bess lit a cigarette and watched the people she adored most in the world. Tom, noticing her fall behind slow his steps. His hands were in his trouser pockets as usual, though he had left behind his worn brown slacks for a navy suit.

“I know the men are always fighting over you-”

“I doubt it since I shouted at Walter Watson.”

“Don’t interrupt,” Tom said lightly and Bess smiled, glad to be back to their old ease with one another. “I know the men are always fighting over you, but save a dance for me.”

“You going soppy?” She nudged his shoulder in a feign of nonchalance, but her heart was already skipping with anticipation.  

“No, but I told you, I’ll be saving my dances for Dot tonight. I owe her for her birthday.”

“Yes you do!” Dot called back to them. Tom laughed as Bess chastised her for listening. After she playfully chased Dot up the road, they fell back into step. This time, the air was heavy. Neither knew what to say.

“No Roberta tonight?” Tom rubbed his neck. He normally had more game than this…

“She’s meeting us there, with Hattie and Glen.”

“Oh yes, Hattie’s farmer fella.” The silence resumed as they rounded the corner and a throng of people appeared. Over the din, Bess heard the first few bars of a tune she didn’t know and began to tap her feet as they shuffled into the hall. Dot turned back from her position at the top of the steps and called for Tom to join her in a dance. He saluted with a smile, and made to stand next to her, when Bess caught his wrist.

“Tom,” her voice was quiet but firm. He looked at her long fingers clutching him, and the skin there prickled. “I’m glad you’re back.” Bess’ eyes were wide and teary.

“It’ll take more than the Jerries to finish me off.” Tom winked, took Dot’s hand and escorted her inside.

To Bess’ delight, the band played some of the new American hits amongst their regular tunes and, accompanied by Lois’ gentle singing, she danced the night away. Mostly, with Albie, Roger and Glen, switching with Cora and Hattie after every other song. Roberta danced only a few with her best friends, before disappearing. Breaking for a cigarette, Bess spotted her across the street sharing a close embrace with a woman she recognised as the teacher at the local primary. She smiled and left them to it. Dot still stole dances with Tom, and Bess noticed that many of the men were eyeing him warily. Clearly, they hadn’t forgotten the last time Tom Bennett graced the dancehall. She joined her brother at the bar, who was deep in conversation with Frank Smith and Walter Watson. As she approached, Walter glared and left. Albie gave Bess a look that clearly told her to play nice, and as she took a whisky from the bartender, she spoke.

“How are you, Frank? Where’s Queenie?” He looked a little sad, if Bess really considered him. His eyes were downcast in a way that reminder her of a Bassett Hound, and he was swilling the dregs of his beer around his glass.

“Oh, I can’t keep up with Queenie when it comes to this kind of thing. She’s having a dance with Tom Bennett.”

Bess turned so quickly that she hurt her neck. Sure enough, in the centre of the dancefloor, Queenie Warren was clinging onto Tom’s shoulders, pressed indecently close to his body. He was speaking in her ear and Bess sincerely hoped the closeness was due to the proximity of the dance. Whatever he said, Queenie clearly found it highly amusing as she tipped her head back and giggled. The act exposed her neck, and a little of her cleavage and Bess’ stomach lurched. She looked back to Frank. He smiled sadly. Obviously, he was just as jealous of Tom as she was of Queenie. Bess downed the whisky.

“Steady on,” Albie half laughed, half warned. “Ah, talk of the devil and she shall appear,” he muttered as Queenie Warren bounded to the bar and kissed Frank’s cheek with another giggle. Tom raised his eyebrows to Albie in relief, as though he had just diffused a bomb.

“Your turn, Miss Vaughn.” He held out a hand.

“I see the navy has turned you into a gentleman,” Bess said, eyes lowered to his hand.

“They’re trying. My God, they’re trying.” Tom smirked, and when she didn’t take his hand, he leant to take her own, eyes never leaving hers. As they walked silently to the dancefloor, both trying to hide their smiles, Lois’ voice spoke above the gentle tinkling of Connie’s piano keys.

“A slower one now, before we pick up the pace as we head towards 1940.” The crowd cheered. “I know this one will mean a lot to many of you. I think I speak on behalf of everyone here when I say how glad we are to have some of our boys back, my own brother among them.”

Bess squeezed Tom’s hand and, from the back of the hall, someone shouted, “And you, Lois!” A wolf-whistle rang out.

“You’ll be lucky to make it to 1940, Walter Watson,” Lois teased and the crowd laughed. Lois nodded to Connie, and together they led the band in a moving rendition of We’ll Meet Again.

Let's say goodbye with a smile, dear Just for a while dear we must part

Don't let this parting upset you I'll not forget you, sweetheart

Tom placed Bess’ hand on his shoulder and brought the other to wrap around her waist. Her face had turned serious, though she had not realised it. All Bess’ effort was focused on staying upright and remembering to breathe. She almost forgot both at Tom’s next statement.

“You look gorgeous.” The hand that had been on her waist moved to brush some hair from her shoulder, before going to its original position. This time, he moved Bess closer to him so that their legs were entwined as they swayed to the music.

We'll meet again Don't know where Don't know when But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

Without thinking, Bess placed her head on Tom’s shoulder and his palms grew sweaty. He caught Albie’s eye at the bar, one eyebrow raised. Slowly, Tom steered them to avoid the soldier’s scrutinising gaze. With his cheek against the top of Bess’ head, he could smell the vanilla of her shampoo and the spice of her perfume. Chanel No.5. Another present from the Manchester Atelier, worn only on special occasions.

Keep smiling through Just like you always do 'Til the blue skies chase those dark clouds far away

Tom hummed the chorus lowly in Bess’ ear and felt her shudder within his arms. Oh fuck. He marvelled at the effect this had on her and promised himself he’d do it again. Tantalisingly slowly, he ran a finger down the exposed curve of her spine. He heard it that time. The stuttering exhale. Once again, when his hand reached her waist, Tom pulled her closer.

“I was so scared,” she whispered into his shoulder. What the fuck was he meant to do? He was no good with this sort of thing. Feelings. Emotions. Romance? But he longed to hear what Bess had to say. Tom stilled a little but held her tight.

We'll meet again Don't know where Don't know when But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

She sniffed and looked up at him. Her eyes were brimming with tears and suddenly any trace of quiet, confident Bess vanished and she looked like that little, bullied girl again. It was too much. Queenie’s incessant laughter, the eyes of her siblings, the chatter of couples and the swell of the brass section. The scent of Tom’s cologne and the heat of his hands against her body.

“Bess-”

“This song…sorry-”

“Bess-”

“Makes me so sad. I’m sorry-” And with that, she broke away from Tom and hurried to the exit.

✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼　 　✼

Bess’ hands fumbled for her cigarette case. Her coat was still inside the dancehall, and the cold December air did nothing to ease the shaking of her hands. The alley behind the stage door was empty. Under the glow of the lamplight, Bess leant against the brick wall, the cold piercing her exposed skin but rooting her in reality.

“You look gorgeous”

She took a steadying breath and tried once more to extract a cigarette.

“We'll meet again Don't know where Don't know when”

The spot where Tom held her still burned, and as she played over the last few minutes, she recalled that he had been trying to tell her something. Her hand slipped.

“Fuck,”

Bess reached down to retrieve her cigarette case, the enamel of which had split, but another hand got there first.

“Let me help you.” It was Walter Watson. Bess straightened as she watched him pull a cigarette out and hand it to her. From his own pocket he produced a lighter and struck it so that she might light her cigarette.

“Thank you,” she whispered. They said nothing more, but Walter looked at her with a wolfish gleam in his eye. Looking up and down the alley, Bess saw they were alone and fear twisted beneath her ribs. It’s just pathetic Walter Watson, you’re fine. “Your arm is looking better,” she tried.

Walter nodded and gestured to his arm, still cast but without a sling. “Yeah, not long until I’m sent back. And I can dance now.” Bess smiled, not knowing what else to do. “You owe me a dance, Bess.”

“When I’ve finished my ciga-”

“You’ve danced with every other person in there, man and woman. But you’ve avoided me.”

“Don’t be stupid, Walter, I haven’t been av-” Walter took a sudden step towards her and Bess’ head hit the wall as she tried to step away.

“Dance with me now.” At this close distance, Bess could see the slight glaze of his eyes and smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Not now, Walter. And certainly not here.” She gestured to their surroundings. “You’re drunk.” He paid her no heed, gripped her waist roughly and pulled her against him, slinging one arm around his neck.

“Just one dance,” he slurred.

“Fine,” Bess said through gritted teeth. He stumbled around, head on Bess’ shoulder, turned towards her neck; he was humming some indistinguishable tune. Walter’s weight grew heavy as he slouched against her.

“Walter, stand up.” She hissed.

“Sorry, sorry-” He grinned dopily at her, and when he stood to his full height, his eyes grew clear. He seemed to have remembered who was dancing with. “Bess Vaughn,” his eyes were dark and his smile widened. The hand that was resting on her waist slid downwards and he harshly gripped the flesh of her bottom.

“Walter,” She tried to push him away but his hold tightened. He squeezed her backside again and white-hot fury raged in her chest.

“Never thought I’d be in this position with Bess Vaughn,” he laughed a little. “That little freak from school.” Bess struggled to push him off her again. “Then you came back from Manchester with this-” Both hands grasped her bottom now. “And these,” They came to grope at her breasts. With his hands on her chest, Bess was finally able to push Walter away. He stumbled only a little, and Bess had no time to move before he grabbed her by the face and shoved her into the wall. “And thinking she’s so high and mighty. That she can make fun of me,” he spat. His face was so close to hers she could barely see, the self-satisfied smile he wore now a vicious grimace.

“Please, Walter-”

“Shut up.” With one hand gripping her jaw, the other fumbled with the skirt of her dress. She clamped her legs shut. “Fucking bitch,” he hissed. “This is all you’re good for, Bess Vaughn, all you will ever be good for.” A leg forced her own open and she whimpered. Just as one of Walter’s fingers found the hem of her knickers, his weight disappeared.

Bess opened her eyes. Beneath the reach of the lamplight, a lump was writhing on the ground.

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Her!” Every word was punctuated with the harsh cracking of knuckle against skin. Tom Bennett was straddling Walter, who was cowering beneath him. He had Walter’s broken arm pinned above his head, using his other hand to pummel any bit of the man he could find.

“Tom,” Bess whispered, finally moving from her position against the wall. Tom landed another blow to Walter’s jaw. “Tom!”

He whipped round. Her dress was wrinkled, make up a little smudged and hair messy but the serious glower of her eyes had returned. She looked like she was about to spit fire. Tom’s chest swelled with pride. Standing up, he made his way to her, not without a swift kick to Walter’s stomach. “Shut up!” He shouted as Walter groaned. Under the light, Bess saw the frenzied fierceness of Tom’s eyes, the heavy breath from his flared nostrils and the delicious twitch of the muscles in his neck. She placed a hand on his chest to calm him. “I’m taking you home, wait here.” He said to her, and she felt for a moment as if she was being scolded. He turned back to Walter.

“You so much as look at her,” his voice was a low growl. “And I’ll break your fucking skull.” Without another word, he strode through the stage door and out of sight. Bess looked at Walter cowering on the ground like a stray dog. She approached him, and he look at her feet.

“You’re pathetic,” she said, and spat on him.

“Here,” Tom was at her side, holding out her coat. “I’ve told the others.” He steered her away from Walter and into the street towards home.

They didn’t talk a while and every now and again Tom jittered, still humming with energy from the fight. When they neared the dockyard with its silent cranes and slap of water against the quay, Bess found her voice.

“Tom?”

“Hm?”

“What were you going to say to me? When we were dancing?”

Tom wanted to shrink but instead puffed out his chest. “Do you know, I can’t remember.” Bess deflated, and Tom caught the change in her demeanour. Thinking it was to do with Walter Watson, he asked her whether she was ok.

“Hm?”

“Are you ok? You know, what happened back there.”

“Oh. Oh!” Recognition dawned on her. “Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Right.”

They walked a few more steps and quite unexpectedly, Bess giggled. Tom looked at her.

“Everything alright, Bess?”

“This is ridiculous,” she said, looking at him frankly. “We’re never this quiet!”

 Tom laughed. “If only I was. Would save the fellas some gip.”

“Tell me about it. How are the other boys?” She regretted asking immediately. Tom eyes darkened and he looked up at the night sky.

“Well, Norman and Terry are fine. I imagine they’re out celebrating somewhere too. Sorry I didn’t bring Norman for Dot.”

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you.” He smiled at her kindness. By now they were departing the industrial landscape of the docks and entering the suburb of the estate.

“But, er, Vic-” Tom took a deep breath through his nose. “He, um-” His chest was rising quickly and his throat constricted. Bess’ hand slipped into his.

“It’s ok. You don’t have to tell me.” He nodded, though it seemed to be more in the aid of calming himself than responding to Bess.

They turned into the ginnel behind the Vaughn’s home. “We got hit.” Tom said suddenly. “We were in the gunroom, me, Vic and Henry. And I don’t know, there was this explosion and when I came round it was all dark and Vic-” His voice faltered again. “His face, it just-” He took a deep breath. “It was gone.”

A tear fell from Bess’ eye but she wiped it hastily away. This time was for Tom, not her. “It won’t surprise you, Bess, but I’d had a fight with Henry just before it all happened. Though Henry was winning, can you believe. And Vic was trying to calm me down. The siren went off and I refused to shake his hand. I was so angry and blind and I don’t know,” He shrugged. “One of the last things Vic said to me was that I wind everybody up, and then I didn’t shake his hand. So maybe, yeah, it would be best if I was a little quieter.” Tom laughed a little, though Bess couldn’t see anything funny about what he had told her. He caught the silent horror in her eyes and smiled.

“And now you’ll never get your chance with him.” Bess laughed and leant against the gate to the yard.

“And you’re stuck with horrible old Henry.”

“Ah, he’s not so bad. Lost an arm, actually, in the battle.” Bess said a quick prayer of thanks. It was a miracle he was stood before her. “You know I told you we were betting on when Vera laid an egg?” Bess nodded. “Well, Terry was closest, jammy bastard. But he wouldn’t take the money. Said we should give it to the widows-”

“Is Terry single?”

Tom gave Bess a pointed looked but smiled all the same. “I gave it to Henry. The others were getting at me for keeping it. I never would have done, but I wanted to make sure it went to the right person. Bit of a peace offering really.”

“Did the others leave you alone?”

“I asked Henry not to tell anyone.” Bess beamed at him. “What?”

“You’re a good man, Tom Bennett. Even if you pretend otherwise.” He placed a hand on his cheek in mock shyness, then laughed brightly. “You should smile more too! Less of this-” Bess squared her shoulders and swaggered around him, pouting her mouth and squinting her eyes.

“Oh ho! Is that what I look like to you?”

She laughed then flung her arms around his neck. The action took Tom by surprise but his hands instantly hugged her waist. “What’s this for?”

“For being in one piece. For being here. I was so scared.” She pulled back to look at his face. They smiled and studied each other a moment.

“Henry’s a ginger too, you know.”

“I’m not ginger! It’s-”

“Auburn, yes, I know.” And it was true. Her hair was a colour he had never seen before, dark and glimmering like Alexandra Park in autumn. Then a memory came to him, and he realised he was wrong. He curled a strand round his finger.

“Just before the explosion, when we’d been hit, these great flames came down the turret. Ever so slow, like. And for a moment, they reminded me of your hair.”

He looked from the strand of hair now coiled around his finger to Bess’ face. Her lips, the lipstick now worn away, were parted. The dark eyes that he so often thought of flickered to his mouth, and when they reached his eyes again, he noticed that the pupils beneath her thick lashes were wide. Realising that this was the first time he had been alone with Bess, without the threat of a family member bursting in on them sent heat prickling up his neck and chest. From one of the houses, a muffled cheer called out.

“Happy New Year,” he whispered, his hand cupping her neck.

“Tom-” What she was going to say emptied from her mind, for no sooner had his name left her mouth was he kissing her. Slowly and sweetly, Tom kissed her. Bess grinned into his mouth as she thought of those full, curved lips finally kissing hers and she sighed. The noise stirred something in Tom and his tongue lathed warm and languid over her lips. Bess’ hands wound their way into his hair and he groaned, pulling her flush against him. Bess whimpered at the noise and pulled away. Tom’s eyes were still shut, and the look of hunger in them when he finally looked at her made her head spin.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the day you came back from Manchester.” A hand left her hip and he ran his thumb over her bottom lip, before he kissed her once again. He pushed her against the gate and granted kisses along her neck. “I missed you so much, Bess.”

She brought his face to hers. “I missed you too,” she whispered into his mouth. Tom’s head was spinning and he laughed.

“Fuck,” he said, looking at Bess’ swollen lips and giddy smile. “Fuck!” They got the giggles, and Tom tucked his head into Bess’ shoulder to keep from hysterics. A light from the house flicked on.

“Shit! Dadda’s already home,” Bess laughed some more and Tom covered her mouth, looking down at those big brown eyes of hers. When she stilled, he removed his hand and kissed her gently.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said and pressed something cool into her hands. Bess looked down. Sixpence.

“What’s this for?”

“A gift from Henry. Get a picture taken for me.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him with a smile. She couldn’t get enough.

“’Oiled up at the factory’?” she whispered seductively in his ear.

Tom groaned. “Don’t tease me.”

Bess opened the gate and snuck into the yard. Turning back, Tom was stood exactly as he was in his picture. Collar turned up, hands in his pockets, but with the unmistakable smirk of the cat that got the cream. Slowly, she closed the gate.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

“Goodnight,” Tom said back. Bess’ face peered at him through the crack between the wall and the gate, and he followed. “You have to shut the gate,” he teased.

“I know,” she felt like a lovesick schoolgirl.

“Goodnight, Bess.”

“Goodnight, Tom.” The gate clicked shut. On the other side, she heard Tom’s footsteps down the ginnel as he whistled We’ll Meet Again. She wanted to cry out with happiness, and when she walked into the kitchen to find Fergal and Douglas by the fire with a glass of whisky, she beamed at them.

“Happy New Year, Bess.” Douglas said.

“You’re back early. Did you have a good time, my darling?” Fergal turned in his seat to face her.

“The best, Dadda. Goodnight.”

Note: Below is the inspiration for the girls’ dresses. Come through Tom beating Walter to a pulp. Come through Tom talking about feelings. Come through Tom and Bess finally getting together! Beginning the next chapter immediately. Boy, have I got some stuff in store for you guys…

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @anditsmywholeheart @allthefandomtherapy @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @chainsawsangel @greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @beiigegalx @skikikikiikhhjuuh @just-emmaaaa @mefools @aquakaris

#ewan mitchell #tom bennett #tom bennett x ofc #ewan mitchell x reader #world on fire #the seamstress & the sailor

[ladamedusoif]

Ornaments (Din Djarin)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 15

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

Follow @ladameecrit for my writing updates!

Characters: Din Djarin, Grogu (can be read as part of the ‘Joy’ world)

Warnings: None; set after the end of S3 of The Mandalorian; we’re using Life Day and I don’t care what anyone thinks; reference to Star Wars alcohol; pure unadulterated fluff

Rating: Teen

Word count: 1100

Summary: It’s Din and Grogu’s first Life Day in their new home - but how do you even prepare for that, when you've never celebrated before?

Dividers by @dreamland-gallery

Peli’s droids scurry in fear as soon as they feel Din’s heavy footprints hit the ground after he climbs out of the fighter, and Grogu squeals with delight. Freaked-out droids mean one thing: dad’s back.

He picks up his son and greets Peli. “I hope he was no trouble.”

She leans forward to pat Grogu’s head, throwing in a few ear scritches for good measure. “When has he ever been trouble? Sweet little thing like that, never been trouble to anyone, ain’t that right?”

Grogu coos in agreement as his father sighs. 

“Mind you, he’s all hepped up about Life Day. Never shut up about it the whole time. He’s really coming on with the vocabulary, it’s impressive.”

Din tilts his head and looks into the little boy’s enormous eyes. He had never really been the kind of person to celebrate Life Day - who would he have celebrated it with, for a start? - but Grogu had become a little obsessed with the holiday since learning about it at school. 

“I hope you’ve got something planned for him, Mando.”

Din shrugs. “I’ll pull something together. Got plenty of time.”

He makes a mental note to find out from Karga what exactly a Life Day celebration should look like.

***

As so often happens, life got in the way of Life Day. A few unexpected jobs, some repairs necessary around the house, and Din’s plans to mark the holiday disappeared into thin air. 

But there was still time, right? It was the eve of Life Day, Din finally had a spare day, and surely a quick trip to the market and stores in town would do the trick. Pick up a few nice things to eat, a few ornaments and decorations, maybe a gift for the little guy. Perfect. Then home, prepare, and rest.

Din was not prepared for the chaos that greeted them in the city. It felt like the entire population of Nevarro had descended and decided to engage in something that looked half-festival, half-riot: smiling and laughing in some quarters, and running around with stressed expressions while managing large piles of carefully-wrapped goods in others. 

Din sighs. So much for the quick trip to the city.

They meet Karga along the main thoroughfare, beaming at the citizens hurrying to and fro on the eve of the holiday, making sure to acknowledge as many as he can to remind them of the bond between the High Magistrate and the people he serves. He opens his arms widely and greets the clan of two warmly.

“Well! Here to soak up the atmosphere, are we? I’m guessing you’re all set at home, this being your first Life Day in the new place.” 

Grogu looks from his father to Karga and makes a mournful little coo. The magistrate raises an eyebrow and stares at the Mandalorian.

“Uh…it was a busy time. Anyway, I just came to get a few things to decorate the cabin and things to eat, and then we’ll get out of here.”

Karga tries not to look too concerned, for Grogu’s sake. He leans closer to Din. “You might get some food, if you try some of the quieter stalls, but by this stage there isn’t a single blue orb ornament left on the planet. I’ll send you a reminder next year, hmmm?”

Din pats Grogu’s head, unsure how he can break it to him that he won’t be decorating his house with the special ornaments like all the other children. He settles on food as a distraction, promising cookies and blue milk as they set off towards some of the less popular stores in the back streets of the city.

***

The cabin is quiet later that night as Din pads around in his long-sleeved undershirt and dark pants, putting away the food and treats purchased for the holiday. He managed to find a little toy bantha as a gift for his son, secreting it in his bag when Grogu got momentarily distracted by a nearby fried food stall. 

But he can’t shake the guilt. This Life Day thing is clearly a bigger deal than he realised, his little boy tried to convey that to him, and he just…forgot. Or assumed it didn’t require preparation. And now Grogu was going to be disappointed. 

“Dank farrik.” 

He pours a little glass of spotchka and takes the toy out of his satchel, placing it on their dining table before wrapping it in a length of red Life Day fabric he’d snagged at the last minute. 

Wrapping is not Din’s forte. As he surveys the lumpy little parcel and drains his glass, he swears to Maker that he’ll make it up to Grogu next Life day.

In his dreams, he hears his son laughing and chattering.

***

Din rises as usual and slides back the door to the main living area of the cabin, preparing to wake Grogu, when he is slapped in the face by - well, he’s not quite sure by what.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes and scratches his head as he looks at the strange, flat object that’s hanging down over the door to his bedroom. Circular. Lightweight.

“Is that…paper?”

He moves around the paper circle to enter the main room and realises that it has been haphazardly coloured blue, the crayon lines making up in enthusiasm what they lack in finesse. 

To his astonishment, there are more blue paper circles in the cabin: on the walls, on the floor, on the table, even inside the fresher. 

Din sits at the table. What was in that spotchka?

The door that leads to Grogu’s room slides open, its tiny occupant invisible as he enters the living area, giggling and cooing, before leaping to the main table where he points excitedly at the mysterious festive decor. 

His father puts two and two together when he spots the telltale bright blue crayon wax still stuck in his little boy’s nails. And on his robe. And, for some reason, on the back of his head.

“Wait - you made these? For us? When?”

Grogu babbles back in the language only he and his father can truly understand.

“Last night? They’re - what are they?” His heart melts when he realises. “They’re Life Day orbs, aren’t they?”

Grogu pulls himself up to his full height, proud as punch, before moving in for a hug. Din blinks hard, bursting with pride at the kindness and determination of this strange little boy.

He reaches down and hands Grogu the red-wrapped gift. “Happy Life Day, buddy.” 

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #din djarin #grogu #din grogu #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #life day #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal

[vclvetfleur]

Obedient Chapter 15

roman roy x fem!reader

Summary: Your relationship with Roman has been strained more than ever. You refuse to speak or talk to him. But his trip to Turkey had taken a dark turn and he had left you in the dark about it. You finally see him again after finding out the news on the Yacht trip in Croatia.

Season 2, Episode 10

TW: Hostage situation, offensive jokes, Logan Roy

WC: 5.6K

Notes: I don't think i've ever written this much. this took up 12 pages on word doc. i'm going to be writing the best essays once my college semester starts

Chapter 15: Greg Sprinkles

After that night, you stayed away from Roman as much as you could. He couldn’t stop you either. You’d come into work, give your notes, and leave. He would try to make jokes, try to make you laugh or smile, but he was met with just silence. Not even a glance. It got to a point; he didn’t bother to try. He knew there was no point in return. He messed up. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you. He just wasn’t able to realize his feelings quick enough. The only love he knew was hurtful. Not loving. Or caring. He loved Shiv. He loved Kendall. He loved Logan. And his mother. But they all had never shown him proper enough love. He knew that was love. So, this, whatever you both had, was just a like. Not love. Just like.

You had been out with Jess more and more. She questioned why you were with her rather than Roman. You simply told her it was because you realized you didn’t love Roman. You hadn’t thought your feelings were as deep as you thought they were. You had cut things off with Roman. Most of it was a lie though. You just regret almost ruining your relationship with Jess over someone like Roman. All of his bad traits intensified in your eyes. His words were more vile. His views were more disgusting and appalling. He was the worst human to ever walk the earth. But you got paid.

You couldn’t quit though. Not that you couldn’t live without it. You had been financially well off ever since the job, but some part of you needed to see Roman. Not on a TV screen. But you were not ready. You’d get the courage one day.

He had been sent off to Turkey, you had made the schedules he was given by Logan. Logan became his new cheerleader. Instead of you encouraging him, Logan did. But Logan only did it to keep more shareholders and to get rid of the scandal as best he could. He told Roman exactly what you had before. He wasn’t good with public stuff or formal stuff, but personal, chill unofficial meetings were his strong suit. He was likable. He was funny. He made people, rich men, comfortable.

So, he had only texted you about the meetings he wanted to set and to make sure they didn’t overlap with each other.

You had stayed home the day that the company was going to testify to Congress.  It was a huge deal. But you couldn’t be surrounded by that. Roman wasn’t here for it. You saw no point. Just another reason to listen to men and women put down sexual assault victims. To put down those women. For it being ‘so long ago’. If only you had known what you did years ago, maybe you would’ve also come out sooner. But you were just as scared as these women.

Roman had texted you a few times, but each time you ignored him.

But the texts stopped for hours. Not that he would be asleep, but he just was gone. He might’ve just given up. He stopped trying to get your attention. In reality, his phone and security guard had been taken from him. And was now being held hostage in a hotel. He sat there panicking. But the only thing he thought of was you. He messed up. He made you feel unloved, uncared for, and unappreciated. And you’d never know how much he actually loved you. He had just realized how much he loved you. And all he could think about was how he could possibly get shot or die and you’d never know. He tried to seem calm, but inside he couldn’t hold it together. If you were here, you’d find a way to calm him down. If you were here, you’d know what to say. If you were here, you’d do everything right. But you weren’t. And it was his fault. It was awful to wish that you’d be in a dangerous, life-threatening situation with him, but he wished exactly that in this moment. 

But Roman was luckily okay. He was sent home. He tried calling you, but you put him on voicemail each time. It had been 2 days. Logan sent him to a shrink and just hoped everything could be okay.

Jess had begged you to join the company on this boat ride. She didn’t want to go alone. You reluctantly joined. Despite your intense fear of the ocean. You all had flown out, you separately on your own flight, flying first class on a commercial flight to the Mediterranean. You had landed in Croatia, meeting with Jess in the hotel. You planned your outfits together the night before your flight. “So, how’s it gonna be seeing Roman for the first time after y’know?” She asked. She was worried for you. She knew even though you said you didn’t love him, you definitely had care for him. “Jess- I still saw him after we broke up.” You laughed, pulling your sunglasses on.

“I know that… but y’know… come on…” She kept asking you. She thought you were heartless for ignoring what Roman had just gone through and completely acting as if you didn’t care. You raised your eyebrows at her, wondering what she was even talking about. Your smile began to disappear once you realized she was insinuating something else. She then realized you didn’t know. Your heart raced wondering what Roman did. Did he already start seeing someone else? Did he publicly do something?

“Uh- I don’t know how to say this without it sounding awful…” Jess dragged it out. I mean how do you tell someone their ex was a hostage for 24 hours before being let go finally. And had been isolated for days to recover from it. “There were terrorists in Turkey. Roman was involved.” She had been vague. You went into complete panic. “Woah-woah. What? What the fuck do you mean?” You asked frantically.

“I don’t fucking know! All I heard was some terrorists took Laird, Karl, and Roman hostage after their deal with Eduard and they finally let them go. I don’t know that much.” Jess tried to scramble to give you as many details as she knew. But you were still in the dark. You both were. You tried to get your heart to go back to a normal pace and your breathing corrected. “Jesus fucking Christ… What the actual fuck?” You were in disbelief. You were even more annoyed that Roman didn’t even bother texting you about it. Just ‘hey im back’. That was it? Was he fucking insane?

Jess wrapped an arm around you, rubbing your arm calmly. “He’s all right. It’s fine. He came back like 2 days ago.” Jess tried to make you realize. She looked at her phone, seeing that had to leave. She guided you out, you took a bottle of water before leaving the room with her. You got into the black car, sitting with Kendall and Naomi. “Oh, hi y/n.” Naomi greeted you, giving you a quick hug. You smiled, hugging her back. “So great to see you again. Wow.” She was happy to see you again. She hadn’t expected to see you. But the last time you had seen her, you were sniffing coke off of some club table. Which was a great time for her. “We’re still waiting for Greg.” Kendall warned.

But as soon as Kendall said it, Greg came up into existence. He nearly hit his head, behind down low enough to fit into the car. He had sat in the back with you and Jess, shoving you into the middle now. “Oh-Uh- hi… I haven’t seen you in a bit. You hear about Roman? Is he- do you know- Is he okay?” Greg asked you at a fast pace. “I- uhm- I just found out 5 minutes ago Greg. But thank you for letting me know you knew more about my own boss than I do.” You felt slightly annoyed. Why didn’t anyone tell you? Why were you the only one out of the know? Kendall looked at you concerned, knowing you and Roman had something going on. But noticed you both were very distant. Naomi kept a notice too. “Woah Roman didn’t tell you?” She asked shocked. Your lips tightened into a line. You just nodded. “Woah- that’s fucked…” She mumbled. “Ken if you become a hostage- you better fucking tell me immediately.” She hinted to everyone in the car about your relationship. But everyone except Greg knew. “Roman’s fine.” Kendall shoved off what had happened. The car stopped in front of the boat. You looked at Jess, fearful of having to get on it. She shoved you out of the car though, essentially telling you to get over it. You walked out, putting your sunglasses on. You had walked up the ramp, holding onto Jess’s arm tightly. “Fucking- why the fuck did you have me agree to this?” You said annoyed as you tried to watch your step. Jess couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous you were being.

“What’s wrong?” She asked you, passing by you as you were struggling to get onto the boat. “She hates the ocean.” Jess confessed. You finally stepped foot onto the deck, feeling a lot more secure than earlier. You all took your shoes off, putting them to the side before finally walking through the yacht. You ordered yourself a drink, hoping it’d get you through being stuck on a boat with Roman. You spotted Willa, seeming upset and annoyed. “Hey gorg.” You exclaimed to get her attention. She looked up at you, trying to smile at you. She put a hand up and then immediately down. “Hi…” She mumbled. “What’s wrong? What happened?” You asked her. You sat down with her and Connor but Connor behind Willa’s back begged you silently not to ask. She got up, upset, and ran off to go get drunk just like you did. “Reviews for the play came in…” Connor said before running after Willa. Jess just laid back, shrugging at you as you tried to keep a positive energy while Willa could see you. But once she was mostly out of view, you gave Jess a face. You both had gone to the play. Despite Willa being an amazing and funny person, she wasn’t that talented. Her actor too. It was a very fake deep kind of play where the themes and messages were way too obvious or so obscure that it barely made any sense to the story. You weren’t even sure what the story was.

“Maybe if the blue bird sang on the window, it’ll make the reviews weep honey…” Jess quoted the play to you. You slapped her arm playfully, holding back a laugh.

“You’re awful.” You giggled, downing your mojito.

“No. That play was.” Jess answered. She knew you were gonna need another one. She put her hand up to get one of the server's attention and asked for another mojito. “Be honest with me… Did you ever think we’d end up like this?” She wondered. “On a boat? Fuck no. Fucking rich men and basically becoming rich ourselves. Yes.” You joked. Jess looked at you, jokingly annoyed with your answer, putting her middle finger up at you.

“No- I mean- a good job, traveling around the world, being able to actually afford shit we want.” Jess named off. You started to actually think about it. “I thought you’d end up like that.” You answered honestly. You never thought of yourself as being set up for greatness or success. Just some poor girl with parents who didn’t care about her who was gonna keep the cycle going of being some kind of free-loading assholes. You saw all your bad traits as your parents. You could mostly name all your bad traits, you had to really think about the good traits you had.

Jess rubbed your back, her smile gone. But returned once your drink came to the table. She replaced your straw and handed you the drink. “Well, I always saw us being here one day. Drink up. Cheers to us.” She put her glass up before clinking it with yours.

Your lips grew into a large grin, unable to hide the fact that no matter what Jess had always been there to help. Despite the fight you both had recently, she was still here. She was here at your side to be your support. You couldn’t be happier. Until the boat stopped. You began to panic. “Oh god, we’re fucking sinking.” You overreacted. You looked out at the ocean to see a smaller boat parked next to the yacht. You watched 3 men get out from under the deck of the boat and get on. One of those ‘men’ was Roman. Shiv congratulated them and everyone tried to greet Roman and joke about the incident. Roman was not in a mood at all. He just ignored them, keeping his head down and his hands at his side. He just whispered ‘yup’ ‘mhm’ and ‘sure’ after each unnecessary comment. He specifically didn’t like the attention he was getting. Tom made a joke before Roman finally snapped at them. “Uh- you know what? Uh- it was actually fucking scary and we thought that they might kiss us but yeah…” He then mocked Tom’s joke and made a silly voice mimicking what he said.

Everyone grew silent and stared at him, concerned. Kendall began to apologize, but Roman just shoved off all the insensitive jokes. He only replied with what you could hope was a joke about what had happened. Everyone tried to apologize, but Roman continued to move the attention off of him. Roman looked off, trying to take his mind off of what had happened. He didn’t come to think that you might be here.

Jess got up, thinking it’d be appropriate to comfort him or ask if he was okay. At least because of you. She walked over, glass in hand. “Hey…” She dragged out her word. “You doing alright champ?” She thought it would at least make him smile or laugh. But nothing. He shrugged and nodded. You followed Jess, not wanting to be alone on the boat in fear of falling. You stood by her side, avoiding looking at Roman. Roman saw you at the corner of his eye and sat up straight. “Uhh- what happened? I thought you weren’t a boat person…” He asked you. You shrugged, sipping on your straw. “I should be asking you that. Considering I had to hear from your brother's assistant that my boss was held hostage. Yea- I found out just less than an hour ago. Thanks for that.” You made a snarky remark. You knew he needed emotional support, but it wasn’t fair to you. You should’ve been the first to know. You told him you loved him. You were the one he was waking up to most nights. You were the only one he shared private stuff with. And now you were this much of a stranger to him? “I mean- I tried…” He shrugged. “Texting me hey doesn’t mean ‘hey I’ve been held hostage’, but hey. I’m not your therapist.” You put your hands up in a way to mock how he had been held hostage and for him being so rude to you that night. You just walked away, not wanting to listen to the next thing he had to say for himself. “I’m sorry Rome…” Jess apologized to you. She didn’t know you and him had been fighting. She assumed it was mutual or that you dumped him.  She chased you, holding your wrist to stop you. “Hey-what the fuck?” She asked you. “What? He’s a shit person. I mean- wouldn’t you be pissed too?” You tried to get her input. She looked at you as if you were crazy. How could you be so mean to him after he had just had such a traumatizing experience? She expected this from his siblings. But not you.

“So you’d be mad at me if I did the same?” Jess asked you. You nodded, knowing you were lying. Jess knew though. “Alright- I don’t believe you. But whatever. Your life.” She sighed.

You spent most of your time, sipping on cocktails, and talking to Jess. You had your sunglasses on, staring off as you all joked with one another. Roman and his siblings, excluding Connor, and Tom were nearby. They were finally having a conversation now that Roman had been out of it completely. You both wore your sunglasses to look at one another without the other knowing. But you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other. Even if you weren’t nearby.

“I think Tom and Shiv are gonna try to fuck that girl. Shiv has been staring at her most of the day.” Jess commented as she pointed her out to you. You peeled your eyes off of Roman and looked at the girl. “Hmm. Bit young for a mid-30s couple isn’t she?” You asked. “Weren’t you fucking Roman?” Jess fired back at you. You shook your head, kissing your middle finger her way. “I never fucked him. So ha.” You admitted.

“Oh yeah- forgot. He’s fucking inept.” Jess revealed. You weren’t taking the comment seriously. He probably was just nervous. Willa finally decided to join you two. She sat down with an entire bottle of bubbly wine. “What are we on about?” She asked to join the conversation. “Just Tom and Shiv being in an open marriage.” You quickly said before the possibility of the topic being on Roman.

“I’m fucking jealous.” Willa laughed to herself. She wished Connor would open up their marriage. A part of her loved him, just not enough to want herself to devote her entirety to him.

You watched as a helicopter was incoming. Fucking Logan. You all had to line up to watch Logan’s incoming appearance. It was all just another ego thing for Logan. Roman stood next to you. You shifted away, but there wasn’t much room to move. “Just- can you fucking- I don’t know- just talk to me later? I have something to say…” He whispered. You looked at the helicopter and didn’t say anything. “Y/n…” He pleaded. You just nodded before Logan stepped out of his helicopter. He called Roman, Karl and Laird to speak to him, forcing Roman to leave you behind. You were finally thankful for Logan.

“You should hear him out…” Jess said to you as you all finally walked away. “I don’t know.” You answered simply. “What the fuck happened? You’re lying again.” Jess accused you. You sighed, not sure if you were ready to even talk about any of it yet. “I’m not ready.” You answered simply before walking off. Jess didn’t know what to do to help the situation. She had seen how devasted you’ve been since the breakup or whatever you would call it. You had been going out more with Jess and still smiling and laughing the same, but once Roman had been near, you always went quiet. You wanted to hide. As if you were embarrassed. Cause you were. He had proven your parents right in your head. You were unlovable. He didn’t love you back. But you loved him. But you wish you kept it to yourself.

You had sat at the bar, putting on a front in front of Willa. You ordered a drink, deciding to talk to her instead of focusing on your issues. Logan made a speech, but you ignored it. You didn’t give a fuck enough. Roman had finally built the courage to finally get you to speak to him. “Hey- uh y/n, I need to talk to you about this fucking bullshit you set up. Can we just-?” He said loud enough for everyone around you both to hear. You, being his assistant, couldn’t say no. You downed another drink before following him.

He shut the door behind the two of you. “Wow- great plan. You think of it all day?” You asked him.

“Would you shut the fuck up?” He blurted out quickly. “I- I really- I didn’t know how I fucking felt that day. But being in Turkey and those men putting guns in my fucking face made me realize that- I don’t know- I thought I’d die and you would hate me forever” He tried to say whatever came to mind.

“So nearly getting shot is gonna make you realize how you feel about me? Me standing in front of you isn’t enough?” You asked sarcastically.

“No- I just- fuck you- you talk so fucking much… I realized that I wish I said what I wanted or else you’d think this awful thing about me… and I really really- I mean fuck- you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever- just- I didn’t stop thinking about you and I wish you knew how I felt and just I wish you were there so you could-“ He rambled. “Roman, where the fuck is this going? I don’t see the point in you telling me you wish I was a hostage too.” You crossed your arms, looking at him completely lost.

“I love you. I just- I really love you. Okay? There. Are we good now?” he prayed you would accept. You stared at him blankly before nodding. “Okay, cool…” You said before leaving him alone in the room. He just stood and watched you. He had no idea what was left to do. He felt completely helpless.

You were so annoyed. The fact he could act as if he didn’t leave you there that night to only leave you in the dark for the past couple of days about his hostage situation, despite being back for 2 days.

You sat in your room for most of the day before coming out at night for a smoke. You sat far away from the edge, lighting a cigarette. You inhaled it before tapping the ash into an ash trash that was thankfully there. You noticed Jess had been trying to find out. She sighed, coming over. She sat down, grabbing your cigarette. “You’re gonna tell me what the fuck happened. You don’t smoke all mysteriously for nothing. Now. I gave you your space. You can’t bitch about it anymore. So, what the fuck happened?”

You knew no one else would be around to hear or see you. Your emotions finally got the best of you. You lowered your head as your face scrunched up a bit before letting yourself finally cry. Jess put the cigarette down on the ashtray before pulling you into a quick hug to shield you from any possible embarrassment. “Hey-hey. Is it cause I took your cigarette?” She asked you, hoping it’d make you laugh. “I told him I loved him…. And he said cool…” you cried. Jess rubbed your back, hurt for you. She wanted to kick Roman’s ass. But she knew it wouldn’t do much for either one of you. “And just-just the fact he- well y’know… and now he tried to tell me he wished I was held hostage too. And that having a gun in his face made him think about his feelings and- it’s just such a fucking cop-out.” You cried in between your words. Jess pulled away from you, wiping your tears away from your face. “Hey- I know you’re upset… but just breathe. You’re really angry and upset. Okay?” She tried to reason. You nodded, listening to her. She wanted to give you her opinion but didn’t want to overstep. At least not for tonight. “Here. Smoke your cigarette.” She tried to see you crack a smile, taking your cigarette and putting it back in between your lips. “There’s plenty of spoiled pretentious offensive rich 35-year-olds.” She insulted Roman. It did make you smile. “Look- just finish your cigarette and let’s go to bed. I know you won't be able to sleep alone on a boat.” She knew you well enough. “Just like old times.” She giggled. You nodded, finishing off your cigarette before putting it out. You went into her room, getting dressed in pajamas that were packed. You had just some small shorts from some generic retail store and a baggy shirt. You crawled into bed with Jess before she had looked up a movie for you both to watch before knocking out for the night. Jess’s company was enough to make you relax enough to fall asleep.

The next morning, you were woken up by Jess, forcing you to leave bed. You both were late to the breakfast that was happening. You got up, brushed your teeth, and put on a semi-reasonable outfit. Just a hat, sunglasses, and a sundress.  You didn’t wanna show off how tired you actually were. You both tried to sneak past Logan. They were discussing who would be thrown under the bus. You scanned the buffet, seeing Roman with two plates with him. He flagged you over and pointed at the extra plate. He had made a plate for you, picking out everything he knew you could actually eat. He even looked everything up on his phone and asked staff, asking them possibly two or three times to make sure. You grabbed the plate from him before sitting down. Unfortunately, every seat was taken except the one to his right and another next to Willa. But Jess had taken that seat before you. She thought it was important you sat next to Roman.

You had not been paying enough attention, but everyone was shocked and trying to talk Logan down. Roman remained silent too. But now it was up to everyone to throw each other into the Lion Den. You watched the slaughter. Roman, of course, was quick to call out Frank. You picked at the food, watching them. Roman defended Gerri before everyone and even making some ‘feminist’ point, something he might’ve picked up from you before pinning Cruises on Tom. You choked on your water, holding your mouth. “Oh is that fucking funny? Huh? Oh look, Roman’s little pet is laughing and saying what he does.” Tom said offended.

“Woah Woah. Fucking watch it. I have my own goddamn mind. You’re the one following Shiv around like a baby duck with a broken fucking wing.” You struck back. “Oh look. Two people already agree. Yup. Vote Tom out.” Roman came to your defense.

“Do you really think so y/n?” Logan asked you. You shrugged, looking at Tom annoyed. “Well- after that shit awful fuck up- I don’t know. Possibly.” You mentioned. “Oh fuck off. You know they threw me in like a dead fucking cat.” Tom desperately tried to defend himself. “What’s with the animal references?” Roman laughed. “But you know, head of cruises.” Roman made a point before Tom began to stutter and try to find another defense. But he couldn’t find one. “I have been a loyal servant” Tom defended before another Roy sibling, Kendall jumped in and defended Roman’s side.

Shiv stayed quiet as she was highly considering whether to support her husband or go with what she thought was best for the business. Everyone even began to jump onto Tom, even Shiv. You would watch the heartbreak all over Tom’s face. You almost felt sorry, especially after he called you a pet. This was a shit storm. But somehow this switched to Shiv. Before Roman chose both.

You smacked Roman’s thigh, telling him to knock it off, but Roman just then decided to add Greg into the mix as well. “Yeah- no- wait. Why me? I just work with Tom. What if we added fucking y/n or Jess? Or Kerry? How the fuck would that make sense? I mean- right?” He tried to get some support.

“Why the fuck are these 3 even here?” Karl asked.

“Cause we’re fucking the captain. Fuck off Karl.” You made a snarky remark. He was annoyed enough. You weren’t helping. But Logan loved watching you join in. He knew you were quick and witty. You could be useful.

“Oh, can I watch?” Roman asked. Greg then asked for Roman to be put up. Making the point he was an awful person. But Connor saw this as a moment to find a way to get a bribe out of his father. “Connor, I’ve been working here for 3 months. And you have not once been in the office. Come on man. You gotta get ready for that campaign. It’s not gonna look good for a president to be tied to a sexual assault case. Wait never mind. Makes sense. Go for it.” You let it go. You listened to Roman giggle in your ear. Willa looked at you just as confused as Connor kept trying to plead. But Logan set this meeting to an end. He left the table to think about it and take everyone's opinion into consideration.

Most of the family had left. But Roman remained on the boat. In hope you’ll talk to him. Jess even had left, hoping you’d give Roman a chance to talk to you.

You just wanted off the boat, but in order to do so, you would have to go on a small boat and sail off. So you just stayed on. Roman eyed you down before making one last attempt. “Hey uhm- did I get most of your plate right?” He asked you. You looked up at him, confused to what he was referring to. “Breakfast… I made sure you could even eat it…” He reminded. “Oh- uh- uh- yeah- it was all vegan. Thanks…” You mumbled, trying to look distracted, but it wasn’t working. There was nothing distracting you. “Yeah- that’s good. Uh- so Frank… What a fucking shit bag huh?” He tried to extend an arm out to you. You looked at him, desperate to have him leave you alone. “What do you want Roman?” You asked him. “I don’t know- just- for this shit to be fucking- I don’t know- normal… Like- I don’t know- maybe oh my god I’m so glad you’re not fucking dead or oh my god how does your ass feel after being pounded by 4 big men?” He tried to joke. You shook your head, putting your hat on your face to hide your disappointment. “How does your ass feel Roman? Do you need a pillow for your ass?” You asked him, your voice muffled through the hat. He shook his head no, but you couldn’t see.

“Yeah- uh- no- I’m fine” he said after realizing you couldn’t see him. “Can we just- just fucking talk or something? Please?” He continued.

“What is there to talk about Rome? You didn’t love me then. And now I don’t love you now. We’re even.” You just tried to hurt his feelings. You still loved him, but that love was extremely buried down deep inside.

“You love me. Shut up. I see that little twinkle in your eye every time you look at me.” He tried to push it out of you. You pulled the hat off your face, looking up at him. “See. It’s right there.” He was desperate to get a confession out of you.

“Roman- that was before- before you yelled at me for trying to comfort you. Before you ignored me. Before you passed off my admission to you. Before you left me in the dark about the most important things that could’ve possibly happened to you. As if what I said to you didn’t matter. As if I fucking lied about loving you.” You ranted.

But all Roman could respond with was “so you do still love me.”

He caught you there. Why would you care so deeply about not knowing first unless you loved him? You stared, unsure of how to make him stop with the pestering. “Yeah- you got me.” You mumbled, getting up, ready to walk away. “Stop fucking running off. This isn’t those stupid movies you’ve shown me where the person runs away and the other chases. Cause I did that. That night. But you’re oddly fast in heels.” He tried to defend himself. You refused to look his way. He just wishes you’d let your ego go. “I love you. Alright? I do. I wouldn’t try this fucking hard if I didn’t.” He was right. You wiggled your hand away from his. “Roman- but this is the issue. You don’t learn. I can’t just forgive. You can’t get that. You don’t get to fuck up and then be automatically forgiven.” You tried to lecture him about it. “You don’t think I know that? I do. I’m the only one out of my siblings who was taught that. So, don’t give me that oh you’re a billionaire bullshit. I know how to be a person. I’m not some fucking freak who just- fuck-…” he got frustrated trying to explain his view.

You judged him. You knew he was some rich kid who was spoiled beyond belief, but Roman knew more than anyone the word no and didn’t know forgiveness easily. He had to work for people's forgiveness his whole childhood, even when he didn’t have anything to be sorry for. He had to constantly beg for forgiveness for just being there at the wrong place, wrong time.

“I just need the time Roman. I don’t know if this could be whatever it was.” You admit. You knew you’d regret it sooner or later. But for now, your mind was made up. Roman just walked off, saving himself from further embarrassment.

Notes: now it's y/n time to be an awful person hehehe

Chapter 16

#succession #succession hbo #roman roy #hbo succession #kendall roy #roman roy fanfic #shiv roy #roman roy x reader #succession fanfic #roman roy x you #logan roy #connor roy #greg hirsch #tom wambsgans #siobhan roy