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adventuringblind · 2 months

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American Sweetheart

Logan Sargeant x Reader

Genre: Fluff and Crack

Summary: Max isn't sure about this new American rookie on the grid. Not that he isn't nice, just that he likes Max's baby sister. Featuring Lestappen being a married couple.

Warnings: Protective Max, sarcastically protective Daniel, Logan being a SIMP

Notes: Yay! Logan Fluff! I've not written for Logan yet, but I honestly love him... He's such a pookie...

Side Note: My requests are still open! If you've sent in a request, please remember I do this for fun and will try to get around to it when I can :)

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Max looks at her with big pleading eyes. "Please tell me who it is?" He pouts, sticking out his bottom lip.

"No, because you'll torture him. I'd like to keep this one alive thank you." She puts the finishing touches on her makeup.

"I left the last one alive... barely, but that's not the point!"

"So if I tell you, then you won't freak out?"

"I swear it on my career-"

"It's Logan."

Max goes silent. Frozen in place as her tries to comprehend her words. The death stare at the ground tells her he's internally screaming.

She sighs, mildly worried that Max might actually scream profanities until Logan arrives. "Alright, what's your issue with this one?"

"He's American!"

She groans. It doesn't matter much where he's from, as long as he treats her right. Logan's been struggling since he came to the grid. It would make a difference if max accepted him and not just Oscar and Lando, by proxy.

"Give him a chance, please? For me?"

Max stars at her for longer than necessary. "Fine."

~~~~~

Logan appears at her door dressed in semi-formal attire. He takes in her appearance. "You look - wow..." There is a light blush on his face. It feels nice seeing as she's in something simple and modest. Just what she had to work with given she's living out of her suitcase.

They catch up on the paddock drama and how life has been going recently. Logan is a proper gentleman the entire time. She's not sure why she thought he would be any different. Logan has always been sweet to anyone he comes in contact with.

Their date goes incredibly well.

As does the second.

And the third...

Max stares at her as she sits in his room, giggling at her phone. She has no time to react as he snatches it from her hands. "Logan?! You're still talking to him?!"

She huffs and crosses her arms. "Yes, Max, I like him."

"He's American." He tosses the phone back at her. "Just let me talk to him." Max gives her puppy eyes. "Please."

"You can talk to him whenever, but if you ruin this for me, I'll break your wrists."

Max makes it his personal mission to figure out Logan through not talking to him. She has taking to simply rolling her eyes as Max drags Daniel around with him to stare at the poor boy.

Until he catches them in the paddock together and puts on the 'Mad Max' face. Logan immediately seems to shrink in on himself.

"Okay Sargeant, it's time you and I had a little discussion about your intentions with my sister." Max hauls him upwards by his bicep and Logan goes willingly like an injured puppy.

She throws him a reassuring smile and pray to Charles Leclerc that Max doesn't scare him away.

~~~~~

Max and Daniel sit across the table from Logan. He thought asking her out would be the hardest part. No, he was mistaken, this is far worse.

The Dutch has been staring daggers at him since they sat down. Daniel keeps wiggling his eyebrows like her knows something Logan doesn't. Which - despite it seeming playful - only puts Logan more on edge than he was before.

"So, Mr. America-"

"Is that really-"

"Quiet! I'm the one doing the talking here."

Logan wants to roll his eyes. He wants to run into next year if it means avoiding this conversation. "Look Max-"

"I need to know you aren't going to americanify my sister." He points an accusatory finger between Logan's eyes.

Logan reels, and Daniel finally breaks all composure. The Aussie is laughing hysterically. "Mate, what does that even mean?!"

"Look, your American ways are not ours. I will not be seeing her calling things like American football, real football."

Logan sinks into his chair. The relief evident on his face.

He's about to jump into a spiel about how he would never expect her to just assimilate into his culture. That was never his plan. However, he's doesn't get the chance.

A figure dressed in Ferrari red comes stomping around the corner. "Max Emilian!" Charles screams out for anyone to hear.

Max shrinks in on himself. Daniel is almost falling out of his chair as Charles stomps his way over. "Why are we interrogating the poor boy?" He crosses his arms like an exasperated mother.

"Because my sister-"

"Your sister was in my room pacing and ranting that you were going to scare away another boyfriend."

Max has a look of shame on his face. Cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "But Charlie-"

"Nope. Not gonna work. Let's go." Charles grabs Max by the bicep and drags him away. The Dutch pouts until he's out of sight.

Logan looks at Daniel, who's finally calmed down. "Are they-?"

"Married? Yes, for like two years now. They are still convinced nobody knows." Daniel leans forward in his chair, and Logan once again is left feeling intimidated. "But seriously, kid, she's a good person. Max has always been protective over his sisters because of their home life. Just treat her right, yeah? She deserves it."

Daniel sends Logan off with an encouraging pat on the shoulder. He's never run away from something so fast before. Not out of fear, no, he just needs to see her. Reassure the female that Max is less intimidating when Charles is around.

He finds her pacing outside of Williams' hospitality. Logan runs right up to her, picks her up in his arms, and spins her around.

"I take it Max was nice to you?"

"Your brother is an interesting character, but nothing would stop me from loving you."

She blushes profusely. "You love me?"

Logan rests his forhead against hers. He can't wipe the smile off his face when he looks at her. "Of course I do! And nobody is going to stop me from feeling the way I do."

She hastily lands her lips onto Logan's , not caring about who's around to see. It's just them in their own little world.

She pulls away just enough to whisper against his lips. "I love you too, Lo."

Logan has never been happier than in this moment with her in his arms and Max screeching in the distance.

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violetszone · 5 months

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Charles' crush

Charles x sainz!fem!reader

Summary: Y/N is Carlos's little sister who is like a ball of sunshine sweet to everyone one and Charles had a massive crush on her and always shy when she’s near and always runs away when she try’s to talk to him because he doesn’t want to make a fool out of him self. This makes her sad thinking he doesn’t like her and Daniel and max get angry cause they are bestfriends with her and give Charlie so hard time.

WARNINGS: no proof read

A/n: I don't even remember when I wrote this, I probably wrote it very badly, I will check and fix it later xoxo

"Oh my god look at her!” Charles screamed internally. He couldn't take his eyes off Y/N Sainz. As the girl walked through the paddock, smiling and greeting everyone, Charles watched her with admiration from where he stood. Seeing his gaze turn away, Max and Daniel next to him looked at each other and then at where Charles focused. When they saw Y/N approaching them, they smiled and waved. This girl was their close friend and they valued her.

Charles panicked when he saw Y/N smiling at him and approaching them. He spoke without turning to the people next to him: "She's coming here, why is she coming here, oh, what am I going to do, damn it?" Daniel frowned and looked at Charles, "What are you talking about? she is Y/N! She is always with us. This kid is starting to act weird." While Charles was holding his breath nervously, Max laughed at Daniel and at that moment, Y/N approached them "Hi guys, how are you?" She spread energy to the environment with all her joy and that beautiful smile.

Daniel and Max hugged you, this time you turned to Charles and looked at him, he was just looking at you and didn't do anything. So you just nodded to him "How are you Charles?" He said something like "I'm fine" you smiled and he stopped looking at you. Even though you felt bad , you didn't show it Charles mumbled something and quickly left your side. You folded my arms over my chest "I don't understand, he is so good and loving to everyone, what did I do to him? Why does he hate me?" Daniel and Max watched Charles leave "I don't think that you are the problem, come on Y/N everyone loves you" Max said patting her shoulder. While Daniel was still looking after Charles with one eyebrow raised, Max tried to be subtle and hit Daniel's arm. Daniel quickly looked at you and smiled. "yes y/n don't be ridiculous Charles gets distracted sometimes I'm sure it has nothing to do with you" you bit the inside of your cheek and looked at them.

"I don't know, it happens like this every time, he either snaps at me or walks away from me like this." You tried not to think too much, but you were feeling down. "Anyway, I have to go, you also have work to do, see you later, okay?" You left Max and Daniel and walked through the paddock to find your brother.

After you left, Daniel and Max went to Charles, he was sitting alone behind the ferrari horpurality, watching the ground. Daniel sat next to Charles. "What's the matter, buddy, why are you acting like that to Y/N? The girl thinks you hate her." Charles looked at Daniel in shock. "H-hate? Oh no no no no.I...I don't hate her. "How could anyone hate her? She's so kind, sweet and thoughtful, and her smile, my god, she always smells so good-" His cheeks turned red again when he thought about her. Max gently pushed Charles's head "dumbass. You like her but you make the girl sad. I thought you were smarter than that"

Charles rubbed his face nervously, "I didn't mean to upset her. She's just so nice and I don't want to make a fool of myself in front of her." Daniel put a hand on Charles' shoulder, "If you keep running away from her, you'll make her even more upset.At least chat with her a little.You should have seen her face when she said she thought you hated her. Don't hurt our girl man, she is the sweet little Y/N of all of us.Let's do it this way, come with us, she'll probably come back our side when she sees us, that way you won't be alone with her all the time and she'll know you don't hate her, come on." Charles found what Daniel said logical, but of course he didn't know that Daniel would not implement this plan.

Max, Daniel and Charles came towards where you were. You were sitting alone in the cafe. Max and Daniel quickly sat down. Charles remained standing. Daniel spoke quickly. "How hot is the weather. Charles, you were going to buy us drinks from the other side of the paddock. Right!" He said, pressing the word 'from the other side'. You looked at them incomprehensibly, this time Max spoke, "Well, he has two hands, how can he carry three drinks, look luckily YN's coffee is finished" you frowned cause it wasn't finished, "Come on YN, go get us drinks with Charles, we have some business with Daniel, we will be here anyway."

Even though Charles started to blush, this time he had nowhere to run. Y/N frowned but got up and walked next to Charles. Max and Daniel smiled slyly and waved after them as they walk away.Max took a sip of Y/N's unfinished coffee and turned to Daniel "Good job, man." Daniel laughed. "If he hurts that girl again, I'll kill Charles before her brother does." Max frowned "Does Carlos know?" Daniel looked at him as if to say 'Are you serious?' "Come on, it's obvious from a mile away that Charles likes her." Max shrugged and continued to watch the duo walk away with pleasure.

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fangirlingpuggle · 2 years

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Once again a dad clockwork AU/fic prompt only where everyone else thinks CW is Danny’s dad.

Basically AU where in big fight in amity against some powerful ghosts (Maybe Dan?) everyone is watching Danny fight and then CW steps in to try and help but gets hit, Danny accidentally calls out Dad and goes to help CW. Danny doesn't even realize he’s called him Dad....but everyone else does.

GIW, Maddie and Jack are freaking out because ghosts have parents? "Phantom has a parent? does he mean actually or adoptive or....this changes so many theories. If it’s biologically then ghosts can have kids?? If adoptive then ghosts have enough empathy and emotion to bond and care about a child and we have so many questions!!!"

All of amity is also freaking out because it’s just reinforced that the ghost kid saving them IS JUST A KID!

Vlad is currently being swamped with amity residents wanting they’re mayor to address this and we have to stop attacking the kid! Vlad is both annoyed as hell that all his plans have gone to hell but also apparently Daniel has picked another parent and it’s not him! and he is pissed mostly because it’s CW one of few ghosts he does not want to fuck with and so is plotting.

Ghosts are not faring much better either the ghost zone is in fucking chaos because Clockwork has apparently become the dad of the kid they have all tried to kill on multiple occasions. THEY ARE FREAKING OUT! Clockwork is a legend he is terrifying and they all apparently nearly killed his kid. In fact a large part of ghost zone are pretty convinced that Danny may like literally be Clockwork kids because yeah he’s half human but honestly Clockwork is the master of time, he controls time if any ghost was going to have a kid with weird powers and able to change to a human it would be him.

The older ghosts and other ancients are all internally screaming because they know who Clockworks partner is. Now all the most powerful ghosts in the ghost zone have cork boards like Always Sunny meme drawing similarities between CW pariah and Danny. They are at this point convinced of a conspiracy in which they had a kid then Pariah went crazy and CW did some time shit to send the kid to the future and somehow make him human? They don’t know they’re freaking out.

Clockwork is trying to explain that no Daniel is not his child, there is no official adoption and no he is not his Pariah’s secret child... No one believes him.

Other ancients: We have connected the dots

CW:NO you haven’t there are no dots to even connect

Other ancients:We have connected them!

Danny is dying of embarrassment in the human world, this is so much worse than accidentally calling a a teacher dad. Tucker and Sam are still dying of laughter... less so when Fright Knight appears calling him ‘my prince’....and isn’t that a weird way to find out the CLOCKWORK IS MARRIED TO PARIAH.

Bonus: Pariah somehow busts out of the sarcophagus and busts into the tower

Pariah: WE HAVE A SON??

CW*head in hands* Ugh fine you know what just gonna roll with this

#danny phantom #dp #dp au #au #fic prompt #humor #danny fenton #clockwork #dad clockwork #dp lost time #lost time #dp dark ages #dark ages #pariah dark #pariah dark x clockwork #danny phantom ghosts #dp ancients #i am just amusing myself at this point #dp royal family

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ughgoaway · 9 months

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midnight, no headlights // George Daniel- pt 1

content warnings: no smut (yet) but still some kissing so minors go away, drinking, swearing, smoking, awkward flirting and writing because I am not great at either! word count- 2500-ish

a/n: hiii so the vote came out that you didn't mind this fic being split up so, this is the first part! 2014 George has had me in a chokehold recently (thanks to @abiiors) so I had to write something for him!! this is part one of two and I have absolutely no idea when the other part will come out!! I actually kind of hate this but can't cope with it sitting in my google docs any longer. I've been in a massive writing slump lately and I'm really rusty, so if it's awful... be nice about telling me lol. anyway ill stop chatting shit now, here it is

Another espresso martini, great. It seemed like all you had to do for this shift was make them for groups of obnoxious girls. To be honest, you were jealous they were able to go out and have fun on a Saturday night, you were stuck doing a shift at this shitty club for some band's afterparty. The shift started fine, a few pints here, a few ciders there but it had soon devolved into a sticky bar and overly complex cocktails with too many ingredients.

A tattooed hand stuck out from the crowd and soon the tall man attached to it wormed his way through and took a seat on the green barstool in the corner, from just his hand you had assumed you'd be getting another shitty beer but he defied all your expectations when you caught a glimpse of the rest of him.

A pile of badly blonde dyed hair sat on top of his head, either side was shaved. He had a sly look in his eyes but a gentle smile on his face, his features seemed hard individually but when you put them together you were left with a very soft look. His arms were exposed due to the white vest he was wearing, colourful and seemingly random tattoos snaked up them. You couldn't see his bottom half anymore but you caught a glimpse of his black ripped jeans, the outfit was nothing remarkable. In fact, it was kind of boring but for some inexplicable reason, he just looked fucking good.

His eyes had an alluring quality to them, pulling you in slowly. They were so alluring in fact, that whilst you were staring into them and walking over to him you tripped. Luckily, before you could fall on your ass in front of the only hot customer you've seen in ages, you caught yourself on the edge of the bar. His hand caught yours as you fell in an attempt to steady you, “Woah you alright darling? Thought you were meant to be sober on shift” he cheekily remarked.

His deep vocals sent a shiver through you, normally in a club like this you had to practically scream to hear each other but for some reason, it seemed like his voice was the only thing you heard. It sat at a different frequency that went right into your bones. You scolded yourself internally for fawning over a man who had said one sentence to you.

“Haha very funny, I’ll have you know I'm stone-cold sober. But I'm assuming that you're coming up here to no longer be that, so what can I get you?” you retort back smiling politely and leaning slightly into the puzzling man.

“I'll just have a vodka soda please sweetheart” he began but he soon looked around at the hoards of people surrounding him and quickly added, “Actually make that a double.” his correction caused you to giggle slightly. You briefly wonder what about the rowdy people made him change his order but decide not to ask and just begin making the drink.

The small cup of drink umbrellas teased you as you worked. Every time an especially manly-looking man ordered a drink you added a little umbrella, just to see their reaction. Sometimes they say nothing and just look confused but every once in a while, you get an especially good reaction. The best reactions are usually from self-described “gym bros” who are on a date, they scoff and act as if a small umbrella completely negates their manhood. It might seem juvenile, but you'll do anything to spice up a boring shift. You decide this mystery man with the “fuck me” eyes would like one so, you grab a teal cocktail umbrella and stick it in his double vodka soda.

“Here you are! A vodka soda,” you begin to hand the drink over, he reaches out but you quickly pull it away and correct yourself, “Sorry, double vodka soda” A smirk sneaks onto your face as you hand over the drink to the man. His face mirrors yours, a teasing smile overtaking his features.

"thank you, love," he smiles gratefully, going to take a sip but quickly recoiling at the sight of the umbrella in his drink. You think he'll scoff, throw it on the floor and call you a dickhead but no. he smiles, takes the small umbrella out and places it behind his ear, he finishes off the action with a wink and click of his tongue towards you.

A light laugh falls out of you at his action, not expecting him to be so cheeky about your little joke. He holds eye contact as he downs the rest of his drink, the action isn't inherently flirty but still, you feel a pulse thrum through you at the sight.

“Not such a good night then?” you remark. Despite having about 30 people you should be serving right now you remain enamoured by the man with the tiny umbrella behind his left ear.

“What gave me away huh? Chugging the drink or coming to hide in the corner?” he smiles, you can't help but feel slightly sorry for him, out to a cool afterparty on a Saturday night and he's choosing to sit in the corner and chat with the bartender.

It's then you make the decision you're gonna make this guy's night, in any way he’ll let you.

“Any reason you're hiding away? From a particular person maybe?” you ask leaning on the bar and staring at the man in front of you, “ooh are the band assholes? Wouldnt shock me if they were considering this afterparty, they're usually the overly cocky and handsy type when they party this hard” you add. The man across from you raises his eyebrows at you and his smirk grows marginally larger, you have no idea who you're talking to. And he loves that.

Soon the small amount of eye contact you're sharing becomes too much, you grab a rag and begin to wipe the bar in front of you. You figure you should at least pretend to work whilst talking to the curious stranger, still with the teal umbrella behind his ear.

“Oh no, not hiding from anyone specifically just everyone really. I was dragged here by a couple of mates but I'm hoping to make an escape soon.” he chuckled out whilst swirling the ice in his cup. Wordlessly you grab it from him and begin to make another drink.

“I won't give you an umbrella in this one handsome, not lucky enough to get two in one night” you wink at the man in front of you. The nickname slipped out thoughtlessly, you were used to flirting for tips so it felt like second nature to use them whenever you spoke. A light blush flushed your cheeks at your realisation, it didn't go unnoticed by the tattooed man.

“Handsome huh? Wow, do all your patrons get such good service?” he says looking at you whilst taking a small sip of the drink you handed him. A smile breaks over his lips as he realises it's another double, he briefly thinks of making a quip accusing you of getting him drunk but your bashful smile distracts his mind.

Your heart flutters slightly at his comment, hoping he would just ignore your slip-up. Quickly you rectify the situation not wanting him to have any more power over you than he already does, “Well when I don't know their names, yes.”

“Ahh, well nice to meet you..” he pauses briefly, indicating you to fill in the blank.

“I don't know about giving my name to a random customer… what if you're an axe murderer? I think I’ll keep that to myself” you smile, trying your best to mimic the teasing look in his eyes. The tall man opens his mouth to reply but before he can a voice comes across the bar.

“y/n! Will you stop flirting with that douche with the man bun and help? Im stuck making 25 pornstar martinis on my own!” your coworker chastises you.

You turn back to the noise of a cackle coming from the so-called “douche with the man bun” his laugh makes a mortified smile come across your features as you sigh and throw the rag you were holding to the bar in front of you.

“Calm down Tony! I'm coming you dick” you shout back in the direction of your coworker, only receiving an unimpressed glare back.

“Okay then, I'm going to work now and hopefully never see you again or I will die of embarrassment, bye douche with a man bun” you sigh jokingly at your conversation partner.

“Bye y/n” he replies with a teasing wave, you begin to walk away with your head hanging in shame but soon a loud voice from behind you catches your attention “It's George by the way, only my mum calls me douche with a man bun” he smiles cheekily, obviously proud of his comment.

In your hopeful final words to the now not-so-mystery man, you say, “Well it was nice to meet you George, may our paths never cross again” With a flourish you turn around and start grabbing ingredients to help Tony deal with the hoards of people.

Your paths did cross again, about 2 hours later in the smoker's area behind the bar. The cool air was just beginning to soothe your running mind when you heard an unmistakable voice ring out behind you.

“You got a lighter sweetheart?” he asks, the handsome man you now know as George comes to stand in front of you, with the same alluring eyes and smile but now with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. This was your first chance to look at him in full but you couldn't pull your focus away from the cocktail umbrella that still sat behind his ear.

‘Shit’, you thought, he asked a question and here you are just staring at him like a deer in headlights. Why is it that whenever an attractive man was within 5 feet of you, you suddenly stop acting like a human fucking being?

You cough lightly clearing your mind and your throat before silently passing over your lighter, he twisted it in his hand and admired the engraving on the silver case.

“All my love, A xx” he read out loud, “from a boyfriend maybe?” he cheekily asked before flicking it open, lighting his cigarette and taking a deep drag. You watched as his cheeks hollowed around the end of it, the deep contours of his face only becoming deeper as he breathed in the smoke. You weren't sure what it was but despite the fact you had met him not even 3 hours ago, you were comfortable.

That felt dangerous considering you weren't exactly known for thinking decisions through, especially after a few drinks.

As soon as Tony said you could clock out, you did. And then promptly had 3 shots of tequila minus the lime and salt. No time for that when you're trying to get drunk quickly. The mix of the alcohol running through your bloodstream and the enticing combination of cigarette smoke and whatever cologne he was wearing gave you the confidence to do what you did next.

“Nope, no boyfriend, you trying to sus out my relationship status Georgie?'' Once again the nickname slipped out easily, feeling like old friends already. He placed his arm on the brick wall behind you and leaned in slightly closer as if he knew what you were thinking.

“Georgie already huh? And what if I was darling, is that such an issue?” he drawled out, smirking slightly as he places the lighter back into your hands, holding them slightly longer than necessary. You were shocked at how warm he was considering it was 3 am outside a club.

“No, no, absolutely no issue,” you begin, leaning up into his face, eyes flicking down to his lips and back up to meet his unwavering gaze. His eyes soon followed suit, mirroring your actions back at you, staring at your lips longingly.

The closer you got the more sure he was, even placing his other hand behind your neck, but soon you swerve left and pluck the umbrella from behind his ear and lean back to place it behind your own.

A groan comes from the man in front of you as he places both hands on the brick wall behind your head, effectively caging you in, but you didn't mind. He looks down at you and can't help but smile at the overjoyed look on your face. The small umbrella sat behind your ear just like he had done earlier in the night.

“What a tease” he complains cheekily, leaning ever so slightly closer whilst protesting, almost as if he wasn't feeling that rejected after all. You used this opportunity to study his face closely. A very light stubble dusted his jaw. A small freckle sat under his left eye on his cheek, both of which were a rosy red from standing in the cold air with you. His hair sat crazily on top of his head but not in a messy way, in an effortless “I'm so cool and I don't even try way”. God, if he wasn't so attractive and nice, you would have to hate him.

All your staring wasn't lost on George, his ear tips going slightly red from the embarrassment of being analysed. Before he could look too bashful your drunk mind said the only thing it could think in that moment.

“God you are so beautiful,” you whisper, feeling as if you spoke too loud the air between you both would be disturbed. Just as George opened his mouth to no doubt correct you, you shoved your mouth onto his without a care in the world.

Despite you all but jumping on George, he adjusted quickly. The groan you let out at his lips on yours was hastily replaced by a shocked moan as he licked into your mouth. Despite his possibly rough looking exterior, his lips were soft and gentle as they moved over your own. It wasn't long before his hands were grasping your ass and you threw your own around his neck.

George pulled away and you whined at the loss, he breathlessly giggled at your response and asked, “You live round here?” you quickly nodded, desperate to keep kissing you but just as quickly as you leaned in you shot back and threw your head back against the wall and groaned frustratedly.

He threw a questioning look at you and you swiftly told him your issue, “My place is only about 10 minutes from here,” he began to look hopeful but you shot him down, “But my roommate has her boyfriend round tonight and I've been given very clear instructions to come home and go straight to bed. Absolutely no disturbances allowed. And I'm pretty sure a 6ft man called George is a pretty big disturbance” You patted his chest dejectedly as you finished.

“Firstly,” George spoke holding one finger up, “I'm 6ft 4 thank you very much.” you giggled lightly at his insistence to get his height correct. “Secondly, we can go back to my place it's a bit… strange. But it's got a bed so?” he asked with a questioning lilt to his deep voice.

He waited with bated breath for your answer, hoping you wouldn't as too many questions he can't answer but all you said was, “Call the Uber” before attacking his lips once again.

#george daniel fanfiction #george daniel #george daniel smut #george daniel fic #the 1975 #george daniel x reader #okay this was so difficult to write #2014 george call me bff #if you all hate it let me know besties!!#okay i kinda hate this

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toournextadventure · 1 year

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BROBROBRO so ik this prolly don't rlly matter BUTTTT how would the siblings react to birb getting killed? imagine nicky waking up from a coma just to find out that his little sister is dead 🖕

Oh no, it matters. It matters a lot 👀

Alex openly takes it the hardest. He's the oldest, he spent the most time with you through thick and thin. You went camping together, you taught him how to ski, you helped him learn how to hunt. All of those things went unfinished, his teaching went incomplete. He starts taking up more hobbies; reading, drawing, whatever he can get his hands on to keep himself busy. But he never finishes learning. Books are put down with the last chapter being unread. Drawings are half-sketched and never completed. He's just waiting for you to come back and teach him how to finish it.

Hailey, on the opposite end of the spectrum, withdraws. She used to be loud with you; scream-singing karaoke in the basement, howling at the moon just because, loud laughter at the Bridezillas on the TV. But her other half is gone now. You're gone now. Nothing is fun anymore, not when she has to do it alone. Wolfing out gets harder and suddenly it's not a fun night out with you, it's terrifying because now? Now she's all alone in the big, dark world.

Daniel talks nonstop. The most reserved out of the kids, and now no one can get him to shut up. It started a few fights with Hailey and Alex because "how are you so fine? She's not even here, who are you even talking to?" But how can he tell them that it's just too quiet now? He can't hear your thoughts anymore, can't hear that internal monologue you always had. No, now it's quiet. And that silence is deafening.

Emily, Jamie, and Alysah didn't know what to do. They were too young to truly understand what was going on, but it was the first time they had been without you. You had been part of the family before them, so you had been part of their entire lives. Now you were gone. They didn't know where you were, but they knew you weren't coming home to watch cartoons with them anymore. You didn't take them out to look for rocks down at the crick, or to grab the cookies off the top shelf when they wanted a midnight treat. So they wandered the house, wandered around the yard alone because everyone was sad and you were gone and they didn't know how to handle all these Big emotions.

But Nicky? Oh god, Nicky. There was no preparing someone for coming out of a coma, but this? When the first thing he asked was if you were okay? How could they tell him "No, she's gone?" To wake up after so long, wanting nothing more than to tell you how much he loved you, and you're gone? He spends his days at your grave more often than not, numb to everything. Sitting with his back against the headstone that he hadn't even been able to afford; it had been bought by some girl named Addams, or something like that. Every now and then she would join him, but she never talked and he talked too much. He had done everything in his power to keep you safe and look what happened. You were gone before he could even tell you he was sorry.

#everyone but her au #birb blurbs

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spaceyflowerswriting · 1 year

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💬 ━ hello danny !! this is the correct number, right? anyway, thank you so so much for treating me during lunch 🫶🫶 i wanna repay the favor! are you perhaps free on saturday? my treat 😉😉😉😉

Worry settled in Daniel when he saw an unfamiliar number text him, but then he remembered the lovely person he had just spent lunch with and wondered if it was them. He was pleasantly surprised to see he was right as he read the text. A smile spread on his lips while reading, and he was unaware of the pink also beginning to color in his cheeks.

He happily replied:

Hello~ Yes, this is Danny! 😄 It's no problem, I'm just glad you able to have a nice lunch, and it was nice chatting with you! (I hope you felt the same!)

Really, you don't have to repay the favor, but if you insist, how can I say no? Saturday works just fine for me, let me know what time you're free. I'm looking forward to it! ✨

But now I have to repay you, too, for the treat... how about we promise to have a third lunch outing together where we split the bill to truly even things out? 😉

Daniel practically tossed his phone away as he rolled around in his bed giggling to himself, while internally screaming. "I can't believe I sent that last text, it was so smooth!! With a winking emoji, too!!" He stopped his excited movement to lay still and stare at the ceiling. "Ah... I hope I didn't come on too strongly..."

#lookism x reader #daniel park x reader #texts #THIS TEXT WAS SO CUTEEEE #y'all are so cute and creative fr im having so much fun writing these <33

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keep-the-wolves-close · 2 months

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Steady Heart

Chapter 17: Muddy Waters

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: language, grouchy Kayce, murder confessions

* Word count: 4,381ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all.

Author's note: Well folks, here we are at the end of season 1! I’m so glad you’ve stuck around this long. I know I’m excited to get to season 2! Things start to get tricky soon! A little rocky too. I wanted to get one extra of these posted (I have a lot queued still) to bring y’all some entertainment and give me some motivation flow! I hope you all continue to enjoy! Also please don’t be shy to send me asks with your favorite parts or something that happened that you screamed about or need to scream about. I would love to scream with you lol. 🤓

Also fun fact, this was the third chapter I ever wrote for this story. I didn’t write them in order lmao.

The noise in the bunkhouse was deafening. The gang was playing their nightly poker, and it got rowdy as always. Especially with Avery involved. On any given day Stella didn’t mind the cacophony. She grew up around it. The volume of the bunkhouse was comforting. Home.

Today on the other hand it was overwhelming. She laid in the bunk she always nabbed, trying to read. She couldn’t get comfortable and she definitely wasn’t able to stay focused. Letting out a frustrated breath she dropped the book in her hands to the mattress.

“It seems like the attitude is hitting more than just Kayce lately,” Jake mentioned in her direction from across the house. Ryan looked between them from underneath his eyebrows to gauge how aggressive his little sister was about to be. He didn’t want to jump in unless needed.

“Oh shut the fuck up, Jake.” She paused as she sat up and the realization hit her that he mentioned Kayce. “Wait Kayce’s home again?” She stood up to walk toward the table.

Ryan nodded. “Yeah. He’s been home since the other day.”

Stella weighed the tone her brother used. There appeared to be something else there that wasn’t being said. With everything that’s happened recently, it didn’t sound like a good thing. She raised an eyebrow. “Like home, home?”

Her brother gave her a look. “At least for the time being, yes.”

She came up in between Ryan and Lloyd. “Does anyone know where he’s at?”

Lloyd offered, “Well the last place I saw him was in the barn. After that, I’m not sure.”

“He was definitely sour today, Stellee. I would probably wait,” Ryan warned her.

Stella was already putting her forest green Carhartt on to go in search of her best friend. “If there’s anything I’m good at, Ry, it’s being an ear. I’ll be just fine.” Grouchy Kayce didn’t scare her. She just wanted to help her best friend. She patted Ryan’s shoulder and made her way out the door.

When it closed behind her, everything went still. She closed her eyes and let her shoulders drop with a deep breath. One of the many things she and Kayce shared was the desperate need for tranquility. It gave just a brief moment of respite from the chaos. No matter if that chaos was internal or external. No manufactured noise, no rushing. Just the sound of the wind and the beat of a heart that slowed to match the breeze.

Stella figured she would start in the barn and work her way around. She had a nagging feeling he wasn’t far, but he also wasn’t close either. She heard a wolf howl in the distance behind her. If she had to go out further, she would keep that in mind. Ryan could be pissed about it later.

She rolled her eyes at the quick thought about her brother. Ryan could be such a mother hen. Yes, he was solely responsible for her. Had been since they left home when Stella was 11. She wasn’t 11 anymore, however. He could loosen the reins a little bit. She knew it was just because he cared and they were the last people they had. She just wanted him to see that he had taught her a lot about standing on her own and that she had gotten pretty good at it.

When she opened the door to the barn there were small chuffs and greetings from the horses she walked past. Mainly it was because it was later in the evening and they were trying to figure out who the hell was in their barn. She giggled quietly to herself. The audacity she had to wake them up from their post-dinner sleep.

Stella looked in all the usual hiding places she and Kayce had accumulated over the years, but no such luck. She wandered over to her lovely Abigail. Ryan had gotten her as a two year old for Stella when she turned 16. John had graciously let her keep Abigail at the ranch. Of course she worked hard to keep her there, but John was still kind enough to let her stay. The lively 12-year-old mare was as fierce as they come. Especially when it came to Stella. Kayce had helped Stella break her in. The rest between the girl and her horse was history.

“Hey beautiful baby.” Stella reached out to pet her muzzle. Abigail nudged her gently back. She went in to hug her quickly and looked next door at Kayce’s horse.

She said to both animals, “So he hasn’t gone far, I take it?” She took only a moment to form a thought, and asked the animals, “You wouldn’t happen to remember which way he went, would you?” She rubbed Abigail’s neck and laughed to herself. Kayce couldn’t make the search easy, and she wouldn’t have expected anything less.

She turned out the lights in the barn and came to stand out in the quiet. If she couldn’t directly find him, she would let nature tell her where to go. She heard a wolf howl off in the distance to her right again which was in between the foreman’s house and the bunkhouse. She heard some fluttering of night birds to her left toward the big house. There was a little grove of tall, but bushy pines that blocked the view of the foreman’s house. Kayce was there. He had to be. It’s where she would have chosen to go on foot if she was looking to be by herself and partially secluded.

Making her way to the tree line, she heard a wolf howl again. This time closer. To her intuition, that meant she was going in the right direction, but it also put her on edge. She was by herself, no assurance that Kayce was actually in here other than a hunch, and had no weapon or self defense. Now she understood why Ryan was still over protective. She could be so forgetful. She would have to tell Rip in the morning that wolves were close by.

With her shoulders squared and a deep breath to give her courage, she crossed the tree line and made her way to the most central point. The furthest spot away from everything. She listened closely to the twigs that cracked and the pine needles that crunched under her feet; making note of anything that sounded dangerous. She breathed shallowly. The air came out in little puffs between her lips making it feel like she could hear better.

Sitting there on a downed tree in a little clearing was Kayce. She let herself breathe a bit more normally. She stopped to look at her best friend and her eyebrows pulled together and her face dropped. He looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. As if the god Atlas had handed over the mantle to him.

Her lips pursed. “Hey cowboy.” He whipped around at the sudden intrusion of her soft voice. He immediately relaxed when he saw it was Stella and stood to meet her. He wrapped her in a hug. She always loved getting hugs from him, but this one felt different.

“Kayce, what’s wrong?” She squeezed him tight and stepped back to get a better look at him holding onto his arms. His eyes looked swollen from what she could see in the dark.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine, I promise.”

She scoffed. “You’re not okay, my dude.”

“Yes, I am, Stella.” Kayce sighed loudly. He sounded stuffy.

“Yeah, sure you are.” She scrunched up her face and huffed. “You’re lying to me. Why?”

“Because it’s not your job to be worried about me.”

“That’s rude as hell considering I’ve worried about you for 13 years straight. For every second of every day because I know you and your reckless abandon. It’s my job to be worried about you because if I don’t, you won't.” She crossed her arms indignantly. “Only myself or your wife will.”

He got defensive. “You should just go back to the house. Not everyone wants you to be up their ass all the time.”

Stella’s eyes squinted as her eyebrows pulled together at his attitude. Her brother hadn’t been lying when he said Kayce was irritable today. “I was coming to say hi and check on you, but if you wanna be a jackass about it, fine. Come find me when you pull your head out of your ass, Kayce.” She shook her head, muttered, ‘unbelievable,’ as she walked back the way she came.

Stella was almost to the line of trees that went back into the wooded area from the little clearing when she just barely heard, “Monica left me.”

“I’m sorry, what.” It wasn’t even a question. A flat tone of shock held her voice as she whipped around.

“Monica left me. She said she didn’t think it was safe for her or Tate. Didn’t think I was safe for her or Tate.”

“Shut the fuck up.” She ran to him and gripped him tightly again. “Shit you know what I mean, but what the fuck.” She fixed her glasses. It was quiet between them for a few minutes. Neither of them really knew what to say. Stella was gobsmacked, and it was very safe to assume Kayce was blindsided. Kayce was probably the second person, after her brother, that she felt completely safe with. She couldn’t understand Monica’s logic.

She now felt bad that she had bit back at him so hard. He had taken his anger out on her, sure. But she also wouldn’t let the subject drop. ‘Takes two to tango.’

“Do you wanna go on a night ride?” She inquired quietly. It was her peace offering. They both had been asses, but they could fix it this way. She hoped. She looked down at the ground and pushed through the pine needles and dirt with her foot. She slid her glasses up her nose and brought her head up to avoid them sliding down as fast.

While Stella looked anywhere but at him, Kayce studied her. She had put her hands in her back pockets. Her brown hair was pulled up in a bun, as usual, and some shorter strands fell into her face. She was wearing her dark green jacket, the one he had gotten her for her 17th birthday.

He knew he had been a jerk. He hadn’t meant to take it out on her. She was just trying to do what Stella did best. Help. Even with the acidity he had thrown at her. Here she was. Still standing by his side in all her loyal glory. He had always been able to count on her to be somewhere in the wings. Lee hadn’t been joking when he said where there was one, the other wasn’t far to follow.

Stella finally looked up at him and he was reminded of the first time her wild eyes met his. At that time, he was 16. He wanted to be anywhere but stuck with some random 14 year old girl he didn’t know. He had wanted to purposely annoy her to see just how much fire actually lived behind those eyes. Little did he know, she would become a major constant in his life.

He felt like they were those kids again. “Fuck it. Let’s go.”

The pair raced to the barn and hurried to tack up as fast as possible, laughing and giggling all the way. They flew out of the barn. They galloped off toward the river that ran through one of the pastures and into the park. Kayce and Tank had gotten the drop on Stella and Abigail. The good thing about that was that she had held Abigail back for about three quarters of the way.

“Don’t hold back girl, cut those boys off.” Stella leaned forward and felt Abigail unleash her legs beneath her. Slowly but surely they were coming on their opponents. She was almost worried that Kayce was holding Tank back. That would be just like him.

“Don’t you dare try and dirty cheat me out, Kayce!” She shouted as they raced by. Stella could see the river just up ahead. She pushed her mare faster, trying to cut off the last few hundred feet. Kayce and Tank came running up beside them.

“No!” Stella refused to tie. “Hell no! I met the bank first, you shit head!”

“You’re such a sore loser, Stell.” They both hopped down and Stella was ready for a fake war. With her shoulders squared, she stalked forward.

“I’ll show you a sore loser, cowboy!” She went to swipe for his hat, but Kayce ducked and weaved around her. He grabbed her around the waist and spun her.

“Kayce stop, I’m gonna vomit!” He slowed to a stop after a few spins.

He squeezed his fingertips on her hips, “Do you give?” His voice was husky behind her ear.

Stella cleared her throat. “For now. But my girl and I still won.” She gave him a quick jab with her elbow while turning around. She stuck her tongue out as she backed away from him to put space between them. He swatted at her with one of his reins and she squealed, and ran back to Abigail. She adjusted her glasses and laughed.

“So are we gonna be here for a while?”

“Maybe?” Kayce wasn’t too sure himself.

“Okay well I’m gonna take her saddle off for now.” She broke down the saddle and leaned it against the base of a nearby tree. She let Abigail stand ground tied. She watched Kayce as he finished breaking down Tank. It was just like old times when they would run away for the night and come to this spot. Especially when things got to be too much. She smiled affectionately at the memories. Stella could see the weight was still there on his shoulders, but he seemed lighter. This was hopefully just the thing he needed right now.

Stella heard the rushing of the river. Deciding to go sit at the edge of the bank, she sat and breathed in deep. The mountain air would always and forever bring her peace.

“Hey, Kace, come sit.” Stella said softly. Kayce sat his saddle down against the same tree as Stella’s and walked over. “Pop a squat.” Stella patted the ground next to her. He took the invitation and plopped next to her with a groan. “Those bones are gettin’ old, huh?”

“Stella…,” he sighed, “shut the hell up.”

She laughed. “Oh you love me Kayce. What would you do without me?”

“Probably crash and burn.” The mood became heavy. Stella knew that without Monica or herself, his hotheaded devil may care ways and rocky relationship with his father, surely would have run him into the ground by now.

The air got still. The only thing to be heard was the late night forest noises, their horses, and the river. They leaned toward each other letting their shoulders touch. Instantly they both relaxed. Stella’s head leaned toward his shoulder as a pillow. It was a comfort thing. They had done it since they were young. The pair always seemed to make physical contact somehow at some point.

She thought back to when she had first met Kayce. The wild eyed young buck that had absolutely no fear in him.

Rip led Ryan and Stella out to the stables to get his horse from Lloyd. Stella couldn’t come along for the work day, but thankfully Rip and Lee had a babysitter in mind.

Rip glanced at their new wrangler. “Ryan, say goodbye to your sister. She’s going with Kayce for the day.” Rip moved to stand off to the side as Lee brought Kayce around into the stables.

“Kayce, Stella. Stella, Kayce.” Lee introduced quickly. He had a lot of shit to do today, and he hoped these two would stay out of trouble.

“You’re both on barn and feeding duty today.” He looked to both of them as he grabbed his horse, “Kayce knows the ropes. He’ll lead you straight. Isn’t that right Kayce?” He gave his little brother a sharp look. Kayce nodded and watched as his big brother wandered off.

He huffed and turned back around to face the girl he had been stuck with. She was currently petting one of the horses that wasn’t being used today. Her brown hair was in a messy bun, and her side swept bangs were continuously getting stuck behind her glasses.

“Alright petting zoo time is over. Come on.” He walked by her. She screwed up her face behind his back. She was confused as to who he was talking to like that. Since she didn’t fully know where things were, she decided to pick that battle for later. She needed him to show her things.

“Okay so the list board is here,” he pointed haphazardly at the cork board, “everything you’ll need to muck and water is in this room here next to the tack room,” he moved over to the next door on the opposite side, “and this is the feed room. You got any experience with feeding?”

“I mean, yeah. Some. Not much though.” Stella shrugged, “I’m will– ,” Kayce interrupted her.

“Okay well I’ll take care of that. Don’t need any of our horses dying because then I would never hear the end of it.”

“If you would let me finish,” she sighed, “I’m willing to learn the schedule and the amounts here. If you’ll show me.”

“I don’t have the time to show you that. I gotta go do the outside stuff. Then I’ll come back and feed the inside horses.” He left through a side door.

Her face flattened, if she were a mare her ears would have pinned. She muttered, ‘unbelievable,’ to herself.

Stella was brought back to the present by a gentle nudge from Kayce. She glanced over at him with a questioning look.

“Where’d you go?” Kayce inquired quietly.

She hummed a soft laugh. “Sorry I was thinking about when we first met. How we kinda hated each other. Who would have thought we’d be best friends not long after?”

“Oh yeah. I didn’t hate you. I just didn’t want to have to babysit a girl who knew nothing about ranch life.”

“I knew about ranch life. Just not your ranch in particular. You would have only had to babysit me for a few days before I got the full hang of it. I at least had the horse part down.” Stella giggled, “but out of spite, I made you have to keep an eye out for me longer.”

“Wait, you did that on purpose?”

“Maybe?” She wanted to back track, but she had already come this far. “Okay yes. I did. But in my defense I also wanted you to be my friend. You were the only one in the same age bracket. Everyone else was older.”

“I would have done that regardless, sugar.” Her chest tightened at his use of the old nickname.

“Sugar? Damn it’s been a long time since I’ve heard that one cowboy.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been able to just be.”

“You’ve had a lot going on. Between meeting your —,” she stopped herself short, “joining and leaving the military, becoming a father. I wanted to respect that.” Stella breathed. “It was bad enough that I came to live with you for like almost a year.” She chuckled.

Stella turned to face him a little better, but leaned back. “Wait, are you trying to say you missed me?” He smiled like she’s only ever seen him smile a handful of times. He looked down. He was bashful. She smiled wide.

“Kayce John,” she started poking his arm, “you missed me! And you’re bashful! What the actual hell? There's gonna be snowfall by tomorrow.”

“Nevermind you asshole.” He gently shoved her hand away and started to stand. He wasn’t actually mad. He was just embarrassed.

“Oh my god. I’m sorry Kayce. Please don’t leave.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. He pulled her up and wrapped her in a gentle hug to give her a noogie.

Stella squealed, “no Kayce no!” She fought her way out of the hug. She pushed and shoved until he gave in and let her spin away. She moved her glasses as the world stopped spinning. Her eyes focused on him again.

“You remember those awful bangs?”

“Kayce shut the fuck up.” They both broke out into loud belly laughs. She had loved those bangs… for about a week. “Why do you think I let them grow out?”

“I think we’re both glad you did.”

Stella swatted at him from a distance, “Now who's being the asshole?”

It went quiet between them. Kayce turned and faced the water. Stella chewed her lip. She wanted to ask about the situation, but she also didn’t want to pry without his permission.

Without missing a beat and while he still faced away from her, Kayce said, “Go ahead, Stella. I know you want to ask.”

“So…,” she started, “What exactly happened? What made her think you, of all people, weren’t safe?”

“You remember what happened with Lee and the cattle?”

“Oh you mean that giant shit storm that gave me several panic attacks and grey hairs about what I was coming home to? Yeah. What about it?”

“I was there, between Lee and Robert.”

“Monica’s brother, Robert?”

“Yeah.” The air was heavy. Kayce wasn’t sure he wanted to admit to her that he had been the one who had killed his brother’s killer.

“What is it, Kayce?”

Kayce sighed and paced along the river bank. She could tell he was contemplating a lot all at once. Stella knew he must be overwhelmed to the max. He was getting more and more agitated the longer he went back and forth.

“Hey, stop and look at me.” She got closer to him. He stopped, but his breathing was labored like a caged mountain lion. “Kayce, you can tell me. I’m your Huckleberry, remember?”

Kayce took his time and really surveyed her. He needed to know if he could really trust her. Yes, he understood he could trust her with his horse, with his truck. He knew he could trust her with the life of his child. But killing a person? His wife’s brother? That was a completely different ball park of trust. Hell, he hadn’t even technically told his wife until today.

“Stella, please don’t get angry when I ask this. Can I 100 percent trust that what I tell you stays between us and this river bank?”

“Kayce. My god. You’re acting like you killed someone. Yes. You can trust me. Who am I gonna tell?”

He suddenly became very serious. His voice was low and didn’t waver. “No Stella. Can I trust you to not say anything? To anyone.”

Her shoulders dropped and her eyebrows pulled together. “Yes Kayce. You can trust me. When have I ever given you any doubt?”

He breathed and remained quiet. She had never given him any kind of doubt. About her friendship, her intentions, nothing. His jaw clenched as he decided whether or not to make the ice cold plunge. It was one that he may or may not be able to come back from in her eyes.

“I don’t wanna lose you too.” He said in a small quiet voice.

“Kayce, I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would make me leave. I might take a lap around the ranch, but I won’t leave.”

“I killed Robert after he killed Lee.” Kayce said it so quickly, she almost missed it. Her jaw dropped open with a snap as she looked up at him. “He shot Lee, and Lee was bleeding out, and I just–,” Stella started to be able to hear the unshed tears wavering in his voice as he cut himself off. A wave of nausea hit her at the thought that Robert killed Lee. She couldn’t help but feel like that had potentially been on purpose. She knew Kayce’s brother-in-law wasn’t fond of Lee. Or Kayce for that matter.

The blood rushed through her ears and melded with the sound of the river. Her vision unfocused on the moving water in front of them. Her mouth remained open, trying to breathe in as much oxygen as it could. She couldn’t believe what she heard. She couldn’t believe it, but on the contrary, she could. She knew that if it had been Ryan and her, she would have done the same thing and vice versa.

“Stella, please say something. Anything.”

She looked up at Kayce and made direct eye contact. Her jaw was still open. Her mouth started to move, trying to find words to say, but she struggled to find them. She struggled to even find sound.

“Fuck.” She whispered. “What are you and Monica gonna do? What are you gonna do? What if the cops catch wind? What if–,” Kayce interrupted her diarrhea mouth.

He put his hands on her shoulders. “We’ve already taken care of the what ifs.” He faced away from her again. He was almost ashamed he dropped this on her, for her to carry. “As for me and Monica? You know, I don’t really know. I’m flying by the seat of my pants here.”

Stella watched Kayce face the river. It was like he was begging for answers from the running water. She frowned. Her heart hurt for her best friend. She wished she could give him the answers he searched for. This was a little out of her wheelhouse. She reached out to him and placed her hand between his shoulder blades and rubbed gently. He leaned closer to her. She could tell that he was trying to ground himself. She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Kayce. I’ll help you with anything you need.” He put his arm around her shoulder and brought her closer. He kissed her head. She turned and put a hand on his chest as reassurance. “I’ll help you figure this out.”

Kayce sighed. “We should probably head back.” He stayed silent for a few minutes. “Thank you for not running.”

#yellowstone #kayce dutton #yellowstonetv #luke grimes #ian bohen #ryan #kayce dutton fan fiction #yellowstone fanfic #yellowstone fanfiction #kayce dutton fanfic

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allegra-writes · 1 year

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"The Aftermath" Part III

Armand x Daniel Molloy

NSFW

Warnings: Rough sex, dirty talk, a tiny crumb of daddy kink. Idk, this turned out cleaner and more angsty than expected

Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable character, and for legal reasons I won't be accepting tips for this story or any story set in Anne Rice's Immortal Universe. Thank you!

MY MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Previously Next

“What the fu- GET OFF ME”

“I will not!” Armand had both of Daniel’s wrists gripped tightly, using the full weight of his body to pin Daniel’s to the floor, effectively trapping him, “If I have to physically restrain you to stop you from leaving me, so be it”

"You can't keep me here against my will!" Even as he said it, he wondered if, maybe, he could. Vampiric strength and all, he couldn't seem to make Armand budge. The more his maker pressed down on his wrists, the more Daniel understood just how much Armand had contained himself around him, the force he was using on Daniel would have shattered his bones to dust had he still been human.

"Then choose to stay!" Armand demanded, childlike and petulant, as if he truly couldn’t grasp why it had to be more complicated than that.

“It doesn’t work like that!”

“Then tell me how to make you want to stay! I’d do anything” He begged, and Daniel was able to hear the catch in his voice, feel the last thread of self-control Armand was desperately trying to hold onto. Daniel himself was feeling his own control slip. For all the power he could feel in his newly undead body, having the vampire -the other vampire, he was a fucking vampire too- so close, seeing the slow, faint pulse of blood pumping inside the bulging vein of his neck, was making him dizzy. Startled, Daniel realized he was hungry. “Anything you want me to do, I’ll do it. Anything you want me to say, I’ll say it”

Daniel shook his head in an attempt to clear it, to focus on what Armand was saying, but he took it as a refusal.

“You want me to apologize, for what little it would do? Fine, I will, even as it will not change anything. I am sorry. I am sorry for refusing to turn you when you asked me to, I am sorry for taking your memories of me and forcing you to live on. I am sorry for indulging Louis in his little schemes simply because the prospect of seeing you, of having you near again was too tempting to pass, I am sorry for not letting you die. I am sorry" Armand was practically screaming now, bloody tears streaming down his face, the mask of composure stripped away, "And the worst part is, I am not sorry at all. If I had the chance to turn back time, I would do it exactly the same, because I simply can't bear to even imagine a world where you don't exist anymore!"

Daniel cursed internally as he felt the words warm something up inside of him, melting his resolve, his righteous anger, away. Some forgotten, protective instinct inside himself, like a dormant agent that only Armand’s tears could activate. He had never been able to resist those tears, the bastard probably knew that. Even at his worst, at the height of his junky days and his mercurial, violent behavior, Daniel had always stopped short in his warpath of destruction to kiss those tears away. Armand, the puppet master, the play director, had to remember that.

Damned him. Damned the consummated actor, damn the manipulative bastard, damned the controlling freak. Damned his boyish face, so heart-rendering as it twisted in suffering. Damned his love. Damned the tears Daniel knew to be sincere.

“Damn you, Armand!” Daniel cursed, out loud this time, before crashing his mouth to his.

Damned himself. He had just damned himself, he could tell. There was no way an addict like him could get a taste of that and not become immediately hooked on it. The way Armand’s searing, silky lips felt against his own -hot with his blood- it was as if the link between their minds was there again, he could feel the kiss on his brain, the electric clarity of a thought, that's how pure it felt.

And then, Armand started kissing back, coaxing Daniel’s lips open with his own, his scorching, sultry tongue slipping inside his mouth, just a little bit, just enough for the tip to lick at the unbelievably sensitive interior surface of his upper lip, only to withdraw again, as Armand drew back, ending the kiss too soon, way too soon.

“Daniel,” There was concern in Armand’s voice, “you’re trembling”

“Feels good” Daniel mumbled. Understatement of the fucking century, but words were a little beyond his capacity at the moment. Something shifted in Armand’s eyes, the briefest spark of lust, pride, greediness, before settling on mischief.

“My firstborn… brand new and tender, a neonate” He whispered, almost in awe, before the mischievous look returned, “Everything must feel so different and overwhelming”

Daniel had no warning before Armand’s hand slid into his pants, making him cry out.

“Fuck, you’re evil!” There was probably a crack in the marble after Daniel threw his head back against it, but Armand didn’t mind, all of his attention on the newly fanged vampire as he closed his fingers around his length.

“And you, my beautiful boy, are mine” He whispered hot against Daniel’s neck, making shivers explode over his entire body, rippling and multiplying like the quiet waters of a fountain when a penny was dropped in it, “as you were always meant to be”

Before he could protest, say something inane and stupid that they both knew to be a lie, like how Daniel wasn’t his, the hand around his dick started moving, pumping slowly, the pressure carefully measured, barely there at all, but enough for Daniel to feel it, enough for speech to be an impossible feat for his mouth, busy as it was moaning.

“Do you like it, Daniel?” Armand’s devilish mouth was nipping at Daniel’s jaw, sucking at his earlobe, murmuring dirtily at his ear, “How even the smallest of frictions feels so intense on your cock? And that’s just my hand… imagine how my mouth would feel” He punctuated with a long, filthy lick at Daniel’s now hypersensitive neck, “How my cock would feel inside you… How yours would feel inside of me… I’ll never again feel cold to you, did you know that? Even if I don’t feed, you and I will be the same temperature. Can you imagine that? All that heat, all that exquisite pressure… we are so strong, Daniel, we have muscles humans don’t even realize they have, I could squeeze you just right, ride you until you came, and then just keep ridding you until you cried… You always did like it when I made you cry in bed, remember now, my Daniel?”

He did remember. Fuck, he remembered it all: The intricate patterns Armand would draw on his body with black ropes, tying him up tight and pretty just so he could spend hours torturing him, edging him with his hands and his tongue and his toys to the very brink of insanity, and then making him come over and over again until tears came to his eyes and he begged for mercy.

The devious vampire stopped the movement of his hand until Daniel opened his eyes to look at him in question, never once breaking eye contact as he licked his palm wet and sloppy, before wrapping the slick hand once again around Daniel’s cock, grip firmer this time, even as he kept the milking movements slow and measured.

“Do you want that, Daniel?” His personal devil asked, low and seductive, “Because I want it. I want to feel you inside me…”

Not fifteen minutes ago, Daniel had bragged about his self-control, the stoic discipline born out of a lifetime of self-denial, but there was only so much an ex-addict could take. It was one thing to wave a bottle of whiskey in the face of an alcoholic, it was a very different one to wet his lips with a few drops of Macallan 1926 and expect him to remain composed. And Armand was a fucking bottle of Isabella’s Islay. With a feral, animal snarl, he snapped, stunning Armand beyond reaction as he turned them around so he would be the one hovering over the older vampire. Daniel wasted no time with niceties, one hand holding Armand by the neck while the other frenziedly tore at shirts and pants and gloves until not a stitch of offending fabric was left to obscure the view of bronze skin and taut muscle. All the while, Armand smiled up at him beatifically, basking in Daniel’s fury, in the urgency and violence of his moves, parting his legs to make room for his crazed fledgling.

Daniel touched the pads of his index and middle finger to Armand’s plump bottom lip, slipping them inside the warm cavern of his mouth when he opened for him, pressing down on his tongue, letting him choke a little in his eagerness for sucking them, to taste them, to welcome any part of himself Daniel was willing to give into his body, whining as Daniel made to withdraw them before demanding,

“Bite”

He obeyed, eyes rolling back at the taste, but Daniel didn’t allow him to enjoy it for too long, quickly taking his fingers out of Armand’s mouth to briefly tease at his rim before shoving them inside, as deep as they would go, making his maker cry out.

There was little in the way of preparation, Daniel only managing to thrust and scissor his fingers inside Armand’s unholy, silky heat a couple of times before the demanding brat started begging,

“Now, Daniel, I want you now. I want to feel it, I want you to make it hurt!”

Daniel didn’t have to be told twice, letting go of Armand to lower his jeans and underwear just enough to free his dick and used his bloody hand to slick himself up before guiding his cock with Armand’s entrance and pushing in.

It was so immediately, devastatingly overwhelming that Daniel’s arms almost buckled, making him almost lose his balance. He managed to keep it together but barely, needing to hide his face in the crook of his maker’s neck to center himself again. Meanwhile Armand, as desperate and disheveled as Daniel had ever seen him, tried to wrap his legs around Daniel to push him down, to undulate his hips, anything to force more of Daniel inside himself, but one of Daniel’s strong hands splayed right below his navel was enough to pin him in place.

It was a power trip like no other. Of course they had switched before, inverting their usual roles of dominant and dominated, hardly anything could be found that they hadn’t tried in the heyday of their psychosexual games together. But it had always been make-believe, nothing but the flimsies illusion of control until Armand got impatient and flipped them over to ride Daniel as hard and as fast as he could without breaking his fragile human bones. Daniel had never held any real power over Armand… until now. Being able to keep his demonic lover in place with just one hand, forcing him to wait patiently, to take only what Daniel gave him, inch by agonizingly slow, unescapable inch, carving a place for himself inside this ancient, almost almighty monster that had haunted his dreams and nightmares for so long was exhilarating, to say the least.

By the time Daniel’s balls hit the supernaturally smooth skin of Armand’s buttcheeks, he was a sobbing, quivering mess under Daniel’s heavy, dead weight.

“Danny… Danny, please… I need… I need…”

“What do you need, baby? Tell Daddy what you need…” Daniel murmured, tone not-quite mocking. Armand whimpered, hands shaking as he clutched at Daniel’s wool-clad biceps, his shoulders, his hair, anywhere he could reach. Daniel kissed his blood-sweat damp curls, soothing.

“Don’t worry, baby, daddy’s gonna fuck you just the way you need it” Daniel rocked his hips a couple of times testing the give of Armand’s hole, splayed so snug around his cock, as much as his own resistance. He was acutely aware of every single one of his senses as they fired stimulus after stimulus at the speed of light. The only thing he could compare to how everything felt was that party down in Brooklyn so many years ago where he had tripped on LSD and ended up getting pounded within an inch of his life on the rooftop under a maroon sky. Both experiences had Armand at the center as his Polaris, the bright north star guiding him home, making sure he didn’t get lost in the whirlwind of sensation.

Proud of himself and sure he would not shoot his load as soon as he moved, Daniel pulled out. Not a couple of inches, not until just the tip remained inside, he pulled all the way out, just so he could slam right back in, muffling Armand’s cry with his kiss. Finding his purchase on Armand’s thick, athletic thigh, he hoisted it higher around his waist to deepen the angle of penetration and laid it in, setting a punishing, merciless rhythm that had Armand clawing at the back of his sweater, ripping the fabric to shreds.

“Daniel… My Daniel!”

“Yes, say my name baby… wanna hear you scream it… Fuck! You feel so fucking good…” Daniel almost asked, would have if he had found the words to do it, if it would always feel like that, every nerve on his body aflame, all of his newfound, insurmountable brainpower focused on one single point, the place his body sank into Armand’s over and over again. He could feel himself becoming this wild creature, this tameless animal with no higher reasoning, no other purpose but to have and take and possess the being under him, vampire instinct screaming at him, the voice of a revenant inside his own skull, telling him to mark his maker as his, to complete the ritual, to finish what Armand had started half a century before. Daniel felt his fangs descend, the drag of the dry bone almost sensual against his gums.

“Yes! My beloved, my fledgling, my Daniel… do it!” Armand clamored for it, exposing the enticing, endless curve of his neck, a lure impossible to resist. Daniel bit down.

Love. Cherishing, worshipful, all-encompassing love hit Daniel like a train as soon as Armand’s blood touched his tongue. He knew what it felt like, to have Armand inside his head, but that had never been a two-way street, even as the vampire had been more forthcoming inside the privacy of Daniel’s mind, his secrets had never been laid bare in front of Daniel like that.

Can you taste it, Daniel? Do you feel the sweet caress of the blood as it floods your insides? That searing, luxuriant gush of warmth as it flows incandescent from my veins to yours? I promise you, is just as orgasmic every time. There is nothing more intimate than holding a life between your arms and drink it up, no greater pleasure to our kind. Is it always going to be like this, you ask? Well, lover mine, my precious newborn, blood of my blood, sin of my sin, it won’t. In this big, wide earth, in this savage garden, no blood will ever taste as sweet, nothing will ever feel as good to you as I do. I am your maker, Daniel, nothing will ever satisfy you as I will.

A part of Daniel wanted to rebel, to protest, to push Armand away but it was useless. After all, he doubted any of his theatrics would be convincing, not after he came so hard at Armand’s words he could feel it overflowing his maker’s slight frame, leaking down his shaft, dripping on his balls. He parted from Armand’s neck, throwing his head back, overwhelmed by his very first swoon. And Armand, ruthless monster that he was, took advantage of his momentary helplessness to flip them over, straddling Daniel’s thighs so he could not escape.

“You did not think I was done with you so soon, did you, beloved?” He asked, the very image of depravity as he lazily stroked his leaking cock.

No. Daniel didn’t even dream of it…

To be continued...

#armand x daniel molloy #the devil's minion #smut #fanfiction #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire #daniel molloy #the vampire armand #claimed series

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danthropologie · 2 years

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idk who to send this so please im loosing my shit over this post . This is max with one of daniel’s well worn merch sweatshirt in their old Monaco apartment building or post race rbr circa 2018 polo (remember when they had that long motor home they had to share) .

first of all, obsessed??? second of all, maybe it's just the daniel brainworms speaking, but i kind of feel like it could go both ways re: maxiel?

(adding a cut because i kind of rambled on 😭)

like on one hand, as you said, it could be this idea of max still in the process of discovering himself. he doesn't really register that his feelings about daniel as a 'friend' are Different than just friendship until that experience happens. then, as any feral karting kid turned more-than-slightly repressed young adult would, he turns to the internet for help. but for him, it would be less about What It Means for him personally and more just about not wanting to compromise the friendship? like, daniel's so cool and fun and interesting, the first ever teammate he could call a friend, so of course the last thing he wants to do is make things weird or alienate him with these strange Feelings he's feeling!! he doesn't really even understand WHY it happened, but he's not really interested in the why either? he just wants to get it off his chest more than anything.

on the other hand, it also SCREAMS repressed bisexual daniel to me??? the clinging to straightness and reaffirming attraction to women despite this Not Very Straight thing happening. the downplaying and rationalizing of feelings toward the friend. the total avoidance of What This Means, while clearly having a bit of an internal meltdown about it.

like just imagine a scenario where it's like...it's 2019, daniel's left rbr, he's at renault now, and they're about halfway through the season. it's the end of another race weekend, and he's going back to monaco on air verstappen with max. it's a little chilly on the plane (max prefers it that way) and he forgot a sweatshirt, but max has an extra one he can borrow. when they land in monaco, daniel goes to take off the sweatshirt and give back, but max tells him not to worry about it, he can give it back to him later. so daniel takes it home with him.

later, daniel's in bed, trying to sleep, but between the jetlag and his racing mind, it's not happening. then he notices max's sweatshirt on the end of the bed. somewhere in the process of getting home and settling in it must have ended up there, and seeing it there now, he can't help but be drawn to it. so he picks it up, and at first he's just looking at it. examining it. tracing the cracked rbr logo on the back of it with his finger. he starts thinking about the team and how much a part of him still misses them. still misses max. nico is fine as a teammate of course, but he's definitely no max. he doesn't laugh at his jokes like max did, doesn't fool around with him in marketing videos and between meetings (and sometimes during the meetings) like max did, doesn't straddle the precarious line between friend and rival with relative ease like max did. but in a lot of ways, things between them are better now that they’re not teammates anymore. max is just his friend. there's no 'but' in the sentence. no caveat to the friendship. when they're together—like they were earlier that night on the plane—they're just max and daniel, exactly like it's always been.

and as the thinks more about max and how great he is and how cool it is that he gets call him a friend, something just comes over him?? all these thoughts and the lingering smell of him on the sweatshirt that's invading daniel's senses... next thing he knows, he's having post nut clarity and lowkey freaking the fuck out cause this is weird!! max his friend, and more importantly, he's straight!! so like any good raised-on-the-internet millennial would, he turns to anonymous internet forums for reassurance that this is Totally Normal and Definitely Not Weird (or gay)

#this is nearly a week old at this point but i've literally been thinking about it nonstop #obviously in either scenario it's fucking ages before either of them actually come to terms with / actually admit their feelings #(if they ever do) ((and of course they do because i'm directing these headcanons and i say so))#maxiel #dan #max #answered #anonymous

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lunarmoonanons · 2 years

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Chapter 31: What to Do

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

When faced with choices most people don't know what to do.

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Masterlist

“Fine”

Aizawa stared back at the young girl who glared at him. She looked like a cat that was mad at its owner for clipping their nails. But like when a cat’s nails had grown too long for its own good and you must clip them, Aizawa had to make the girl tell him the whole story. No more hiding secrets from him.

“I lived with my parents and brother in Kyoto. We spent most of my life there till we had to move. When I was 11, almost 12, my parents were killed in a car accident. Then I was sent to live with the Midoriya’s. They emotionally and psychologically abused us. Then we ran away.” YN said as quickly as possible. Trying to avoid how the past made her tear up.

“How did they abuse you?” Aizawa prodded, unimpressed with how she tried to evade the conversation.

“I just said-”

“Stop avoiding it.”

“They locked me in a dark room! They kept separating Daniel and I whenever we didn’t agree with their ‘parenting’. So whenever I misbehaved Inko would have Izuku lock me in the closet and have to listen to my brother cry out for me!” YN teared up at the memory. “Eventually I stopped fighting. Then they started to take away our independence bit by bit. Every time I tried to teach my brother to be only a little self sufficient, they would say he’s ‘too fragile’ or ‘too slow’. My brother went from at least knowing how to cook eggs, to not being able to eat by himself.”

Aizawa sat with a furrowed brow. Before he got to respond, YN continued.

“Daniel has a dangerous quirk. It can create or destroy on an atomic level. He needs to know how to control it. If we stayed any longer, they would’ve smothered him down to where his own quirk would’ve consumed him. It was never as bad till now. Now when he destroys something or gets so anxious, gold covers his eyes and he can’t see. Which causes him to panic more. He leaves behind radiation. I’m the only one left who can calm him. I swore to protect him” YN tried to explain.

Aizawa sighed through his nose. “Maybe it’s best if Daniel is sent to someone who can control his power, or watch him closely. Maybe he’s too dependent on you, knowing you’d fix things.”

“NO! You won’t take him!” YN suddenly shouted and turned to the older male. “I’m the only one who understands him. You take him away, he won't stand a chance.”

“YN, listen-”

“Nobody else will know what to do. You won’t know what you’re doing, He needs me!” YN didn’t listen.

“Sit down!” Shouta sternly commanded. Glaring right back at the emotional girl in front of him.

“Fuck you!” YN screamed back. Internally she regretted flying off the handle so suddenly, she always hated that she would become susceptible to her emotions. It was a weakness in her eyes, since showing a minor chip in her armor usually resulted in her previous abusers swarming her and smothering her emotions. Telling her not to cry, that she’s too sweet to cry, etc.

But as Aizawa glared down at her, YN’s lip began to tremble. Her eyes stug with tears that began to bead at her lids. The older man’s glare turned to a look of pity as he watched the girl in front of him start to cry. This was like when he first saw her, crying from the fear and frustration of losing someone she cared about. He sighed and stood up, pulling the girl into an uncertain hug. Rubbing her back as she trembled and cried.

“Please… please don't take my brother.. He’s all I have…. Please…” YN whispered into his chest as she wept.

“Look.. I don’t want to separate you two. But you can’t keep hopping around outside in hopes of trying to escape. Your brother can’t seem to handle it.” Aizawa pulled back and looked into the girl’s eyes. “I think it’s best for you two to stay here. For longer than I planned. I promise I will keep you both safe, but you have to listen to me. No extravagant plans. No running off to do some stupid crap. Just listen to me.”

YN hesitated, but nodded. Deciding not to tell him about the stranger who said they would help them. Aizawa patted her cheek, before moving to turn away. She kept her secret as he walked into his kitchen to make himself some coffee. Before he could tell her anything else, YN walked to the room she and Daniel had been sleeping in. The boy looked up at her with a worried face as she leant against the door.

“We don’t tell him about Snow. We keep it to ourselves, or he’ll try to separate us.” YN warned her brother. He only nodded and looked down at his book.

YN sat on an opposite bed and began to write down several plans for the coming weeks. Writing down pros and cons of their options. Stay with a pro hero and risk being seen by Izuku, Go on the run and live hand to mouth, Or take Snow’s offer and abandon everything.

The first one seemed appealing, Aizawa wasn’t a terrible guy, but he was still not someone YN trusted.

The second wasn’t all that appealing, but having total independence and being free wasn’t that bad of an offer.

The third was a great plan, but YN didn’t want to leave Kirishima. She just started to know him and really liked him.

YN could only bite her nails and tap the notebook in front of her. What to do… What to do…

#bnha #bnha oc #bnha x oc #bnha x reader #yandere bnha x oc #yandere bnha x reader #yandere deku #bnha yandere #yandere mha #yandere midoriya clan #bnha aizawa

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droughtofapathy · 3 months

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"Welcome to the Theatre": Diary of a Broadway Baby

Encores! Once Upon a Mattress

This one's going to be a little longer than usual, but not as long as it could've been, so you're welcome. I've been listening to the Mary Rodgers memoir, and going in knowing how and why this musical was crafted the way that it was really shed some light on the process. Highly recommend listening to the audiobook (as narrated by Christine Baranski), because it's wildly entertaining at every turn. As for the musical itself? Well... It's a nostalgia piece that does well in high schools all across the country. And that's great. J. Harrison Ghee, great. Nikki Renee Daniels, great. Harriet Harris, so great she had the house screaming with laughter every moment. Worth the entire night just for her.

Sutton Foster was one referred to as "the luckiest chorus girl" and I don't disagree. Sure, she's talented in specific areas. She's a good dancer, and has the breath support to sing whilst doing it. Sing well? Mmm...no. I've never been the biggest fan of her voice, but it was especially weak in this show, and that's shocking because this is kind of a role made for her. It's big and brassy and doesn't need to be sung well, just loud. And she didn't manage to do that. "Shy" was tepid. Jackie Hoffman out-belted her when she did it eight years ago, and she's a comedy legend. Sutton can get the laughs, that's for sure, but it feels so inorganic watching her roll around on stage. Comedy is hard, and Carol Burnett is a master at it. Her schtick will make you cry laughing, and it feels effortless even if it takes so much work. Sutton makes it look like her entire internal monologue is "I'm funny, I'm being so funny right now, I'm doing comedy," on repeat the entire time. Which, fine, sure, it's a show that works with that. I don't actually care that she's too old for this part (just like she's too old for Marian the Librarian) because it's objectively hilarious that a nearly-peri-menopausal woman is going to be the princess of the kingdom and have heirs, but I do care that she's not delivering the goods.

Listen to this "Shy" and then go do yourself a favor and listen to literally anyone else sing it. She gets a semi-powerful belt in at the end, but come on. This is supposed to be her bread and butter.

Verdict: A Lovely Night

A Note on Ratings

#once upon a mattress #encores!#new york city center #sutton foster #harriet harris #welcome to the theatre: diary of a broadway baby #i've seen sutton foster in three shows now and each time i've been actively irritated by how unimpressive she is #the first time she was in concert with kelli o'hara and i gave her a pass because c'mon she had no hope in hell of comparing to kelli #the music man was...yikes... painful doesn't do justice to the butchery she did of my white knight (rebecca luker save me)#this should have been her role to dazzle in and *yet*... ugh

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variousqueerthings · 3 years

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Cobra Kai: The Gaslighting Of Daniel LaRusso

#daniel larusso #ck #cobra kai #daniel like IM VERY UPSET #people around him: get over it???#daniel's own narration: it wasn't that bad #terry in s4: I'm just a good citizen -- look at my pants #cant be evil with these pants #also terry: danny and I are BASICALLY the same person #daniel: *screaming internally* this is fine

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yanderecandystore · 3 years

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Could you please do a fanfic for a male version of Yandere! Lady Dimitrescu (from Resident Evil Village game) with the reader.

I really like the Resident Evil franchise but I'm too lazy to know what the hell is happening in the older games XD I'm so sorry about that-

I loved watching playthroughs of Resident Evil Village (can't buy the game ;-;), but I felt like it was a bit empty, idk- I felt like the lords weren't really explored enough.

Also the Duke is the best husbando in the whole game- Fight me! >:3

TW/Tags: GN = Gender Neutral, I normally forget to properly name it when it's gender neutral, most of the time I just say "reader" // maybe ooc // lazy genderbent, I'm terrible with names // size difference // servant reader // mentions of gore/cuts/bruises/blood and deaths (and torture- I'm so sorry-) // reader gets hurt // mentions of vomiting

It's Dinner Already [Yandere!M!Dimitrescu x GN!Reader - Short Fanfiction]

It's dinner time already, unfortunately for you, of course.

It feels almost like a routine at this point- Which in a way, it is! You always take care of your tasks during the day, while dreading the inevitable time for dinner to arrive again.

Everyday, at this exact same hour, you and the other servants would prepare a meal for Lord Dimitrescu and his lovely… Sons…

As someone who has started "working" for their family only a month ago, you can positively say: Starving in the cold woods next to your village would have probably been a more merciful death than the ones you have witnessed at this place. You weren't as accustomed to such brutal executions at your village, actually you hardly even witnessed so much death, at least not so up close.

When you came here, you didn't expect to be instantly comforted and treated with respect- You were a commoner looking for an possibility to thrive in a noble's house, you were basically an easy target for any entitled selfish lord to easily belittle you and make you work for them until your hands would turn to dust. Yet nothing could have prepared you for such an odd situation.

Vampires. Monsters. Fiends if you were bold enough to insult them. You weren't exactly welcomed as much as you were snatched in and now forever trapped inside this castle. You can still hear their laughter… Their insane expressions of pure glee, the way they have bursted into maliciously laughing at your pain as you screamed for help trying to open up their door again and be free from that nightmare.

The chase didn't last even a second, they stabbed your legs with their scythes and brought you deeper inside this hellhole, as you cried your eyeballs out. The sons had brought you back inside so their father could take a look at the "intruder".

An absolute titan amongst the mortals. His height was only a sick reminder of how much power he had over the castle, over his sons, and now- Over you.

He may not have been as massive as he was threatening as you remind him to be, but at the time you were just in awe of his height considering you have never seen someone as tall and as mighty.

Then again- You have never seen vampires as well. Were they the same vampires as the books you've read as a kid? You weren't so sure of it…

You were hoping that if you begged for life and for forgiveness for having disturbed their peace, that they could spare you and let you go back to your village. Sadly enough, you commented on how you were only trying to look for a job as a servant.

You probably shouldn't have given them ideas, but it's too late to think about your mistakes now, however.

The sons begged to see your blood spilled, yet Lord Dimitrescu was merciful enough to grant you your "wish", as he said.

It has been a month ever since you were trapped inside and forced to work as a miserable little servant, and even if you didn't suffer the worst forms of punishments that they had in-store for you, you couldn't help but fantasize about just running away and never turning back.

You're so tired of this castle, of the smell of carnage, of the undeserved and over the top punishments, and especially of the people who would subjugate you to such things.

But at last, it's dinner time already, and you can't keep them waiting.

You feel your hands shaking as you walk out of the kitchen and into the dining room where the masters of the castle were so graciously waiting for you. You know what they're waiting for- But you can't let them distract you, for those that commit accidents are faced with fates worse than death.

Although you would rather do this process quickly, you can't afford mistakes to happen, so you take your time to set not only their meal in front of each one but to also pour "wine" into their glasses. You do all of this without looking directly into their eyes, only bowing down to each one and saying "excuse me"s in what they would call a "decent tone", as the smell of their disgusting beverage starts to irritate your nostrils. If you didn't know the main ingredient to Sanguis Virgins is, you probably wouldn't have this immense disgust over it, but right now just the thought of it makes you want to gag.

Only villains could so easily drink blood, and still make a living out of it.

Your internal thoughts of pure hatred against this whole situation almost completely blinded you to the fact that they were eerily, very quiet.

….

On most nights they would be talking with each other while occasionally making comments about you or your presence. Obviously they were all pretty nasty comments that they somehow expected you to back it up in some way or another, it's when they try to insert you into their conversation that makes you hate this occasion so badly, but it normally ends as quickly as it begins.

But as you are pouring wine to Lord's Dimitrescu, you notice that they haven't said a single thing while you were there. You stop what you're doing as you realize that they were silently observing you this whole time, and as you look into their expressions you come to think that maybe you have messed up-

Somehow, in some way or form, you may have messed up- And the fact this mistake could cost your head only agitates your already very worried mind.

….

A small moment of silence continues before the middle son, Cassandro, starts to chuckle in an almost innocent way- As if he was a kid who just said a bad word for the first time- And as he bursts into sudden laughter, Daniel leans towards Bello and loudly whispers:

"- I told you, they do this every time." To which Bello only replied with:

"- It's almost like hypnosis in a way."

The three sons were mesmerized by your ability to trap yourself in your own mind. They're probably aware that you do this as a defensive mechanism but they still find it comical in a weird way. You feel yourself get more tense as you look up at Lord Dimitrescu and see him staring back at you, with an unreadable expression across his face.

Before you could come up with an excuse to whatever you may have caused to disturb their dinner, the Lord himself spoke.

"- How inappropriate. As my sons, you three should know better than to laugh at our servant's airheaded mind-"

And as he said that, their smiles begin to disappear and be replaced with frowns and a bit of shame as they become stiff at their father's words.

"- And how inappropriate of you, too. To be so distracted in the presence of your masters, that's quite rude don't you think?"

But as he continued their bodies begin to relax once again as they realize he wasn't focusing on them- He was focusing on you.

Words have completely disappeared from your vocabulary as you start to think that maybe you won't be able to see another day after their meal is over. You try to mumble some possible responses before getting interrupted by him once again.

"- It's very rude, so very rude in fact that I think we deserve some answers. What were you so distracted about? What were you thinking that could have possibly taken over your small little head?"

Right now, he was sounding a bit condescending, thankfully not as angry as he would have been with the other servants right about now. Every little mistake was used as excuses for punishments- And if you were walking on thin ice before, right now you are one-step closer to breaking this entire lake and getting yourself killed by the freezing temperatures of the water below you.

Thanks to your luck (or maybe lack thereof, depending on how you see this) Daniel came to "your rescue" by coming up with an excuse for you.

"- Maybe they were hungry." He said without any indications of it being a joke or a lie- As the youngest yet craziest of the bunch, he always had that weird "naive yet dangerous" energy coming from him. He was naive enough to make that statement when it's very clear that you actually despise being near them, but he still was a son of Dimitrescu.

You know better than to underestimate any of these people.

The Lord didn't seem completely convinced as he side eyed Daniel who was blissfully eating his meal without acknowledging his dad's glance or his brother's looks of disapproval.

Without a warning you were pulled closer by your wrist and forced into sitting next to the Lord, who made a sign for another servant to bring you your food. This… Doesn't feel right at all, you're waiting for the worst to come yet you don't feel like you can ever prepare yourself enough for what they have in store.

"- M-My Lord- This isn't needed, I'm fine. I'll just continue my duties, if you can excuse me-" You plead, while trying to get up from your chair.

"- Oh but what host would I be if I didn't take better care of my guests? Poor thing, you must be starving if you can barely serve us wine-" And as his tone gets progressively more sarcastic and a bit louder, you can hear his sons snickering from the other side of the table, but you can't see them since you can't take your eyes away from him.

You're worried that if you look away for just one second, that you may not be able to see ever again.

"- It's so sad when one of our guests feels hungry- What's worse is when we are also very, very hungry."

"- Thirsty, even!"

"- Oh, I can feel my throat drying just at the thought of such misery!- Our dinner seems to be ruined."

You hear their whispers, you hear how they are clearly joking about this- How overly dramatic they're being over something so miniscule as you just- Ignoring them.

Let me remind you this is all because you refuse to look them in the eyes, that you refuse to give them any satisfaction for the heinous things they have done! You've seen so many people get hurt inside this castle only for their sick and twisted thirst and entertainment.

"- Indeed, my boys. My appetite is ruined, though dinner is not over yet-" Lord Dimitrescu spoke as he looked at his sons clearly enjoying your inevitable pain, but before he could continue he turns himself to you again, putting a hand on your arm and saying:

"- Wouldn't you agree?" Loud enough so that his sons could hear it, but soft enough to send the tiniest shivers down your spine.

"- …!"

"- No, no- Please, not again!-" He wouldn't dare do this, would he??

But before you could react he had already done it, you barely noticed how fast he had grabbed that knife to slice your wrist- His hand firmly gripping your arm as he made a deep enough cut so that your blood could be easier to access.

It somehow hurts just as badly as the first time his sons have stabbed your ankles and dragged you across the floor- At least you're not bumping into things like before, and even if it's a deep cut it's not as big as it could be if he used his claws to actually do this.

Oh, oh those claws- You almost thought he would use them on you… Those were something else. You can't remember exactly what happened, and why it happened, but you remember seeing him use those on another servant who may have crossed the line at some point.

Well "crossed the line"- More like "casually inconvenienced him". Lord Alcino may act like an incredibly high noble but he acts so childishly and in such an egotistical manner that you are surprised he can even have a castle like this in the first place! You don't remember what the servant has done to be so cruelly dismantled, but you don't doubt that it was for a stupid reason!

You miss that servant actually- Probably the only person who you actually talked with, and the first one to actually taught you how to do your job… You two could have been friends if he didn't intervene.

You briefly remember those moments before getting to experience the most weird sensation of all- Having your bloody cut be licked and sucked on. It hurts and it stings in a way that not only makes you want to cry but to also gag at the thought of you feeding this monster.

You refuse to look at him even in this scenario, you refuse to see him feeding off your blood… Sometimes you wish you were just as poisonous as some species of frogs, poisonous enough to make his mouth burn so he can experience a fraction of the pain he causes to others.

You tried fleeting away, you tried getting up and moving away but his grip on your arm only helped you in getting closer to him- You have your eyes closed as your only option is to cry and muffle your agony.

But as always, he is not satisfied with you just ignoring him. This was supposed to be a lesson, yet you're clearly avoiding your teacher as best as you can- But not today, little flower, you're not getting out of this so easily.

This is the first time he ever got to really taste your blood, as normally you would be behind the other servants while trying to learn how to please him, the only moments where he gets to see you is when it's dinner time, but oh- You're just so cruel!

Escaping inside your own little head while he has to content himself with just your image. Your presence is very much appreciated around this hour, little one-

He has noticed this before, of course, but it was only when he noticed his son's curiosity over the way you behave around them that made him organize this little trap. He didn't have everything planned actually, his plan only involved getting to this moment no matter what- And oh boy, has luck been on his side!

Your blood tastes better than expected of a commoner, your delicate and fearful whines of pain are just as delightful but what really gets him is this tough persona you try to convince everyone you have- You despise him, and it's clear to see why- But he knows his charms will probably work on you one way or the other.

He gripped your face trying to make sure you'll get to him in the eyes as he has a taste of you. Absolutely delicious, especially after you so gracefully "ruined" their dinner.

His sons were just watching as they continued to drink from their crimson glasses. They were just enjoying the show, as everything seems to easily amuse them- Their father was just showcasing how they were so much better than the common folk, and they have no other option but to take notes and to remember what they have to do if they ever feel ignored by the servants in the castle: Show who are the true masters of this place.

None of them were really interested in drinking from you, considering how all three seemed to recognize how their father has taken a liking towards you. No one would dare mess with their father's prey.

If you had enough strength in you, you would start vomiting as soon as this has started, but the more he takes from you the more you feel like you can barely stay conscious.

He wasn't supposed to take so much, at least not so soon- He wanted to just take a sip but he can't deny the fact he would rather drown himself in your blood than to let go.

He sighs, as he notices that you're slowly getting less and less aggressive, getting more and more tired as he drains you from this cut.

You're not unconscious yet, just barely stable enough to understand what's going on.

"- Sigh… Now that was a decent enough meal." He can't praise you for being tasty, can't have you being cocky around him.

"- Here, since I'm done here I'll take you to the servant's living quarters- And because I'm so kind I'll make sure that wound is safely secured and cleaned, so here- Come along now."

And as he stood up he offered you his hand so you could get up yourself, but you don't have enough energy to walk yourself to your room, thankfully you're already ready to go to bed and wish to never wake up again.

And as the nightmare never ends, he decides that if you are going to be difficult then you leave him no choice but to carry you there. How much has he taken from you?? Jesus, he should learn some self-control before doing this again- The absolute brute that he is.

Your vision may be a little screwed over because of the lack of red cells running through your body at the moment- But you have a weird feeling that you two aren't heading towards the servant's living quarters, as you feel like you two are quite literally going in the opposite direction.

Oh but it's fine- Right?

It'll be fine. Surely. After all, he already took what he wanted from you, and he doesn't seem to need more so- You probably won't have to worry about anything right now, dinner time is already over, you can finally relax now….

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

So I'm sick again- Sorry y'all, I just have a horrible immune system and I really don't understand what is wrong with me-

I'm sorry if you didn't like this boo :(

#sheep's stuff #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere vampire x reader #yandere lady dimitrescu #yandere lord dimitrescu #yandere lord dimitrescu x reader #gn!reader #yandere fanfic #yandere fanfiction #yandere short fanfiction #special delivery request #special delivery short fanfiction #m!lady dimitrescu #male lady dimitrescu

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mrdanielbond · 2 years

Text

Arrested Development - Benoit Blanc x Reader (Chpt. One)

Plot: After a drunken incident at a party, you are taken in for questioning. However, things are not as light hearted as they seem. The detective on the case? None other than Benoit Blanc.

[A/N: Hey again! Guess who’s back with another story! So this was fun to write, gave myself a short space of time to do it and because I don’t appreciate Blanc enough as openly as I should do. Hope you all enjoy this story! I have to say I love a sassy main character that matches Daniel’s characters. There will be a lot of typos, I'm aware but I did this to challenge myself and I think this went well?]

Twelve hours. That was how long you spent inside that godforsaken cell. If you had sobered up a little more, you were sure to be stressed given your current predicament. However, there was no chance for that for a while. You were still dazed, a mild hangover kicking in, all you wanted to do was go home. No one said a word about the incident in question. Hell, the only thing you noticed was that five people were taken into custody at the same time as you...and there was screaming. An awful lot of screaming. You stared at the dreary, grim walls before you, trying to find something to distract you. Anything. If you spent another five minutes listening to water leaking from one of the pipes across you, you were certain you were certain you would burst it as some form of entertainment. Knowing you, it was probably a drunk and disorderly arrest. A slap on the wrist and maybe you would have your fine paid in no time. Not that this was ideal for you.

It was at that moment you heard footsteps. Ones that sounded all too loud, rattling against your head. A police officer opened the hatch to your cell door and you moved forward a little too quickly for your liking. “Stand back from the door, hands where I can see them.” Her hostility was heard through the other side. Slowly, you moved back with your hands in the air. This seemed odd. When one of your friends had described being arrested on drunk and disorderly conduct, they never mentioned the officers at work becoming so hostile. “I am being released, aren’t I?” You tried to get a word out of the officer but they simply stood inside. “Turn around with your hands behind your back.” Your eyebrows raised. There was something about this that seemed incredibly off. The officer stepped behind you and you could feel your wrists tightening, clicks of handcuffs. Yet you kept quiet, unable to register what you were about to walk into. “Move.” The officer said. “Hang on. Where am I going?” You finally snapped back. “I said move.” The officer now said nudging you out of your cell. Okay, so this officer was clearly prick. But all you thought was once you were out of the station you would go home and get your hangover sorted with a nice hot vanilla latte….

Except that didn’t happen. You turned away from the exit, walking further into the station and towards an isolated room. That’s when you stopped walking in your tracks. Irritating the officer even more. “Listen, I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me where I’m going and I don’t care if you want to trap me in another bloody room. I’m going home. ” Okay now you were starting to internally freak out. But externally, you held your ground, refusing to move. The officer glared at you.

Suddenly, another officer appeared. “Is there a problem here?” He asked. “Looks like we have a stubborn one.” She responded. That was when you were HOISTED by your arms. You tried to kick your way out of their grasp but damn the restraints, they ruined you. “Get off me! I want to go home!” You protested but it was no use. Once you reached the door, the two officers carried you to your chair, leaving your hands tied to the leg of the table. The door slammed shut before you could get a word out. Lord, how you wanted to headbutt those smug officers. Slowly, you looked around the room and you recognised this from all the crime dramas you spent your evenings watching. You were in an interrogation room. But why?

After a while of panicking once again, being left alone with your thoughts (which innocently started off as a reminder to pick up your dog from the neighbours to suddenly, what you had done the night before to be left in the station overnight) the door slowly opened.

Two people entered the room, sitting across from you. A woman, brunette, mid 40s in a dark pan-suit that clung onto her slim figure. The man to follow closely behind was an older man, late 40s or even early 50s, with dirt blonde hair. He had a stubble, parts of it patched with grey but it grew to the perfect amount. Thick rimmed glasses and a vintage suit that hid beneath his dark brown overcoat. Unlike the woman, he bore no police badge or sign to show he was the police. If anything he was someone in the background. And you couldn't lie to yourself, there was something about him that was alluring. The older gentleman with steel blue eyes gave you a ‘cool, silent, mysterious’ aura about him.

The lady dropped the file on the table, looking at you then down at the paper. You decided to play it cool, considering you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the handsome man and leaned back in your seat. “Good Afternoon, Miss Y/N Y/L/N.” “Nothing good about this afternoon.” You retorted. This caused the older man to lift the corner of his lip with a small smirk, while the lady did not look impressed. “How’s the hangover?” You didn’t say anything. Just scowled at her. God this woman was already getting on your nerves. She knew what you were playing at already. So with that, she turned to the tape and turned it on. A loud buzz filled the room. “My name is Detective Inspector Rosie Turner. This gentleman over here is Detective Benoit Blanc. Here with us is Miss Y/N, Y/L/N. Can you please state your date of birth for the record please?” “Isn’t it rude to ask for someone’s age?” Your eyes squinted, if you were going to be charged for drunk and disorderly conduct, you might as well have fun with it. “For the tape, Miss Y/L/N is refusing to state her date of birth which is…” As she stated it, you couldn’t help but feel the man known as Benoit’s eyes bore into you. It felt intense. Why did it feel intense? “Proves I’m a lot younger than you, I guess.” You snapped back. “Immaturity levels are the best way to assume one’s age anyway.” Rosie quickly said, turning back to the file. “So Miss Y/L/N, do you know why you’re here?” “School trip to the station? I don’t know. Have you got any paracetamol?” “The answer is no and we will especially not be administering any drugs of any kind to you.” She answered. “Well that’s just rude.” “Miss Y/L/N, you were at the party held by one, Henry Wong last night?” Okay, well now you were just confused. “Yeah.” “And what’s your relationship with Henry?” If there was one thing you learned, you didn’t want to sound incriminating. There was only one answer to give... “No comment.” “Did you have any form of relationship with one Mr William Parks?” “No comment.” Rosie’s eyebrows raised but you looked back at her with suspicion. What was she playing at? And so she leaned forward in her seat, rolling her eyes, knowing that you were going to be a problem for her. “Miss Y/L/N, are you aware that from this point onwards anything you say or do will be later used as evidence and relied on in court?” Your lips kept sealed. “William Parks was an accountant, around about five years older than you. Did incredibly well for himself in the business. His father Earl Parks owns a chain of gentleman’s clubs across the UK. William has been friends with Henry Wong back in their days at Glasgow University. Any of that ring a bell?” She got nothing from you.

The older gentleman across you seemed entertained by your presence. It was as though he tried to read you but kept up another certain interest. You hadn’t felt yourself being this analysed - close to being uncovered by a man’s eyes from a distance - ever. “Did you attend the party last night with Mr Parks?” “No comment.” This time you had the courage to look over to him. “Did you or did you not assault Mr Parks on the night of November 31st?” “No comment.” “This is serious.” “Can I call my lawyer?” You bit back at her. God she was annoying. That was when the older gentleman pulled Rosie aside, seeing her patience wear incredibly thin. “Do you mind leaving us alone for a couple of seconds? I want to try somethin.” He whispered quiet enough for you not to hear. “This is a bad idea, Blanc. She’s a handful for us and we haven’t even gotten into the line of enquiry properly yet!” “Just trust me on this. Alright?” He said, his smooth southern accent providing him with a bit of a silver tongue to ease the situation. And it did. Rosie’s shoulders loosened as she looked towards the door. “You better sort this out or we’re doing things my way.” “Scouts honour, Ma’am.” He said with a hand on his chest.

You couldn’t make out what was going on, but the annoying female detective had left the room...now you were alone with Benoit Blanc. The man who looked like he called a night of fun smoking cigars with a glass of scotch beside him and a book in hand - maybe even a western playing in the background. God, the irony. You were in handcuffs, this man stood above you and all you wanted him to do was take you on the table - no! No. You tried stopping yourself from having sinful thoughts about this poor man who was probably only hired as a supervisor to watch you misbehave. But whatever he did to ease his way into getting Rosie to leave, you were sure he could use such a skilled tongue on y- nope! You had to shake out of your thoughts...no matter how close he was. Even with the way he watched your every move.

What you hadn’t noticed though was this dashing sleuth had a southern touch to him and god he was hot...until he opened his mouth. "So, Miss Y/L/N." "Oh my god. That accent." Your eyes widen. “It takes a while to grow on people. My mama always said like honey, once you get a little taste you can’t get enough of it.” He had a point. His baritone voice really soothed you...just why did it have to be THAT accent? "I didn't do anything." You slowly managed to mutter. “And you should tell your stuck up colleague to do one. I’m not talking to here.” "Alright, little lady." He took off his jacket slowly, and you were able to see more of HIM. His well tailored suit, his immaculate build. And then he crouched before you. It caused your breath to hitch for a moment. “I understand being in a cell with a hangover sounding like everything we do is blowin up a storm but I’m trying to help you out here. I need you to comply with me so we can make things easier - for the both of us.” Oh. Good cop, bad cop. Typical crime drama convention. "Excuse me? Don't patronise me with your redneck, lawn shooting, sweet home Alabama bullshit. Can I just go home now?" Benoit chuckles. His laugh radiates the room, unsettling you - especially with a voice as deep as his. "Most women would say I've got quite the soft touch with the tongue too." "Yeah it actually sounds horrific." No it didn't. "I can't take you seriously." Oh how you really did take him seriously though. He leaned forward, looking into your eyes. A silence between you lingered. You were able to trace the lines of his perfect stubble with your eyes, the small wrinkles across his forehead. You still somehow felt that intensity. A burning desire for him inside you. Then he got up, walking casually back over to his seat, as though nothing happened. You managed to let go the breath you didn’t even realise you were holding. “Do you know what you’re being charged with?” He finally said. “Drunk and disorderly conduct.” He shakes his head. “Miss Y/L/N, it would appear you engaged in the most inexplicable foul play. You’re being charged with murder. That accountant William Parks is dead and by god, this has your paws written all over it.” And just like that...your world came crashing down...

#daniel craig #daniel craig x reader #benoit blanc #benoit blanc x reader #knives out #Crime #romance #james bond #mystery #fanfiction

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bubblegumbeech · 3 years

Text

Homemade

Day 2 Dannymay: Home

Clockwork made cookies, they were a special blend he’d invented through countless trial and error to get just right. For a ghost, they'd have enough concentrated ectoplasm to provide energy and enough positive emotion to make them enjoyable, and for a human child, he focused on getting the right flavors and physical ingredients to make them actually edible.

He set the plate down in front of Danny. The young half-ghost had been working really hard at his homework lately and Clockwork wanted to do something small to reward him for it.

“Are- did you make cookies?” Danny asked, looking up at him in confusion.

Clockwork smiled and gently ruffled his hair. “Will you tell me how they taste?”

Most ghosts lost the ability to taste early on, along with their sense of smell. Clockwork never had either though, only had glimpses into different futures with different recipes and Danny’s own reactions to them.

“Please tell me this isn’t the first time you’ve made cookies…” Danny made a face, uncertain.

Clockwork rolled his eyes and grabbed the plate again, “you don’t have to eat them-“

“I’ll eat them!” Danny grabbed the plate from Clockwork’s hands, a splash of green decorating his cheeks and forming a stark contrast against his starlit freckles.

Braced as if for impact, Danny quickly shoved one of the still warm cookies into his mouth and began to chew. Slowly his features softened into enjoyment and Clockwork got to watch as he grabbed another and then another until the entire plate was clean.

He was glowing slightly, the oven-baked ectoplasm doing wonders for his energy levels. Existing so long on ambient ectoplasm alone wouldn’t have been nearly enough for a young ghost like Danny, so it was nice to see him properly fed for once.

“Clockwork, these are amazing! How did you make them?” Danny asked, his eyes shining slightly.

“That’s a secret,” Clockwork lied. He didn’t want to admit it took him over a thousand tries to actually make something edible to a human pallet, and he had enough of a mysterious air about him that he’d get away with it.

Danny didn’t seem to mind though, he just grabbed the plate and flew over to the kitchen so he could wash it. “Okay, what do I have to bribe you with to get those again?”

Clockwork’s core hummed in satisfaction, it was almost a primal instinct to care for one’s child and it was always nice to be appreciated. “Finished homework would be a nice start.”

Danny scoffed, a small smile on his face. “I think you need to lower your standards. I mean, I’m passing history now right?” The single dish was cleaned, dried, and put away in less than a moment.

“Thank you Daniel,” Clockwork said. Danny didn’t get nearly enough appreciation from those around him, it never hurt to give him a little when he could.

A light green blush built on Danny’s cheeks and he looked away in an attempt to hide his reaction. “Yeah well, you make cookies like that again and I’ll clean your whole clock tower.”

Clockwork smirked, lifting an eyebrow. “The infinite spirals of my clock tower and the unending trails of time that exist ever moving inside of it would certainly appreciate a touch up.”

Danny balked, “uh… maybe I can do a room at a time?”

“You don’t have to clean anything for cookies Daniel. I’d rather you eat than not.”

Relieved, Danny rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “Thanks Clockwork.” He sighed and dropped his hand, looking over at the window to the realms outside. “Ugh, I don’t wanna go to school tomorrow.”

There wasn’t much to say, so Clockwork didn’t. He didn’t particularly care about Danny’s academics or whether or not he succeeded in school, but he knew intimately how much it mattered to Danny. It was tied to his two obsessions after all.

He had to go to school so he could both make his family happy and be there to protect the other students, he had to succeed if he ever wanted to fulfill his dreams of working at NASA, the human space program. At the thought of absolute failure he would stress, shut down, and grow apart from those close to him. It would put strain on his obsessions and could lead to internal core damage. It was better for now, that Clockwork simply gave him time and the chance to try and keep up.

“You’re always welcome to visit if you need more time,” he offered.

“I know. I’ve uh, still got homework to finish…”

“By all means.” Clockwork followed Danny out of the kitchen and watched as he sat back down to finish his homework, content with the healthy glow the cookies gave Danny.

He turned back to his own work and watched for anything that didn’t fit or was causing trouble, but his mind was on the next recipe he wanted to try.

The next recipe ended up being a casserole.

Cliche to be sure, but decidedly more filling and sufficient than just a plate of cookies, and this time when Clockwork set it down in front of his young ward he was met with more enthusiasm than suspicion. Despite the bright pink color and the more… mobile parts of the dish. It was difficult to make something that met all the necessary requirements to properly nourish a halfa and have it look appealing so Clockwork had hardly tried.

Danny dug in.

“This is the most amazing casserole I’ve ever had in my life and that includes any and all ecto-contaminated food I’ve ever snuck out of the fridge without my parents noticing how did you do that?” Danny asked, shoveling another forkful into his mouth.

Clockwork purred at the praise, and was glad to see Danny’s glow get even brighter. It was so pale before, barely even there in a way it never should have been with Danny’s obsession and power. “I suppose the difference would be that I was doing it intentionally.”

Danny nodded. “Makes sense.” He took a moment to pause from devouring his food to look up over at Clockwork sitting across the table from him. “Are you going to eat anything?”

How thoughtful. He should have probably prepared for that but, well. “I’m afraid trying to eat something with that much physical matter from the human world would go poorly for me. If you’re uncomfortable I can make some tea?”

“Oh,” Danny looked at his half finished meal, realizing something and unable to react properly to it. “Yeah, tea sounds nice, can I have some too?”

“Of course,” Clockwork agreed easily. He would be using a delicate mixture of herbs and spices from different parts of the infinite realms that Sojourn liked to gift him whenever he bothered to visit. None of them should have any adverse effects on the boy, and if he chose the right mixture, it might actually help him to calm down slightly.

By the time the tea was finished and cooled enough to drink, Danny had finished his meal and cleaned up so that the two could sit and enjoy their tea together.

Danny spent a moment too long staring into his cup, the swirling neon blue of the forgoent leaves—a small blue plant native to some of the darker forest realms, similar to the mortal realm’s forget-me-nots. Clockwork didn’t know what he was thinking, couldn’t see a timeline where he actually spoke his thoughts out loud. He sighed and took a drink of his own cup, the tea’s soothing blend serving to take off the slight edge of his anxiety. It was difficult caring for a child, even with his power.

“Thanks for the tea Clockwork,” Danny said, “and uh, the casserole too.”

His voice was quiet, but sincere and Clockwork accepted his thanks with a small nod of his head. The rest of the evening went on like that, mostly silent but not unpleasant in each other's company. When Danny left to go back to the mortal realm he paused at the clock tower’s door and quickly turned back to Clockwork, pulling him into a quick, tight hug that had him almost freezing time instinctually before Danny pulled away and quickly flew off.

Clockwork stayed there, floating in the entryway to his lair and felt his core practically screaming at him in delight.

He needed a way to distract himself, maybe he could start working on another recipe?

Pie was unnecessarily difficult, Clockwork decided, despite its place as the most popular fairy-tale dish ever mentioned. He’d made no less than three thousand six hundred and four different variations of the damned recipe and not a single one had even stayed together, much less been even remotely edible.

He sighed. At this rate, even freezing time wouldn’t help him accomplish this before Danny arrived. He was admittedly impatient for an immortal entity with all of time under his control, and he wanted to actually be able to spend time with his ward rather than an eternity trying, and failing, to bake something.

Which is exactly how Danny had caught him taking a failed experiment out of the oven, having arrived while Clockwork was distracted.

“Is that a pie?” he asked, excitedly reaching for it.

Clockwork quickly held it out of the young halfa’s reach, unwilling to allow him near his utter failure.

Danny blinked, his face drooping into an exaggerated pout, “I can’t have some?” Clockwork felt his core ache a little. Maybe he should have stopped time until he got it right?

“It’s not fit for consumption at the moment,” he said, carefully floating it out of reach and towards the end of the counter. He didn’t have anything resembling a human trash can, it was uncomfortable to keep waste in one’s lair afterall, so he’d have to leave it on the counter for now. He could dispose of it properly later, maybe as fertilizer for his garden.

“Oh don’t be like that,” Danny said, floating around Clockwork and completely ignoring his very valid warning. “I’m sure it’s fine, everything else you’ve made has been delicious.”

Well yes, everything else he’d made had been very much intended to be delicious. This one was a failure. However, Clockwork wasn’t going to admit to the amount of effort that had gone into each and every piece of food he’d made for his young ward. It would be uncomfortable at best for Danny and horridly embarrassing for Clockwork.

“I’ll make another one for next time, please-” Clockwork didn’t even finish his sentence before Danny was grabbing a piece of the crust and shoving it into his mouth. “Daniel!”

Danny smiled. “Yeah okay not your best work, but it’s edible for sure.” He grabbed another piece and ate that as well and Clockwork didn’t really know what to do. On one hand, he was right: it was certainly edible, there would be no adverse effects caused by Danny eating the food, and it would be just as nourishing as the other meals Clockwork provided. But on the other hand, it could not have tasted pleasant. All of the futures where he tried serving this to Danny as normal were met with disappointment at best.

So why was he content to eat it like this?

“I knew you couldn’t be perfect,” Danny snickered. He grabbed a fork and a plate from their places in the kitchen and then floated over to the table, pie-adjacent pastry in hand. “Are you gonna make tea again?”

“Yes,” Clockwork answered, glaring at the pie. The horrid pie that Danny was eating because not every single meal needed to be perfect and Clockwork, as always, had been over-complicating everything.

The atmosphere at the table was soft and comfortable. It was certainly something Clockwork was unused to, enjoying company for company’s sake. And to think they wouldn’t be here as they were, had Clockwork succeeded fully with his task. It brings up a question, actually thousands of different, related, questions, about failure and success and the weight of either.

Danny smiled at him from over the half eaten pie. Clockwork smiled back.

An alarm went off and Danny shoved one last bite into his mouth before flying off towards the main room of the clocktower. “Shoot, I forgot I promised Jazz to let her help with my english homework.”

There was a flurry of papers while Danny tried to gather all of his things. Pencils shoved precariously into his bag and folders of half finished homework assignments quickly followed. The half finished pie on the kitchen table was completely ignored, as it should have been to start with.

“You seem to be in a rush,” Clockwork said, watching amusedly. Either Danny had forgotten Clockwork’s particular powerset in his haste, or he hadn’t thought to ask for a medallion. Either way Clockwork found it too amusing to offer his aide unless Danny thought to ask.

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny tried to say over the strap of the backpack he held in his mouth in lieu of his busy hands. “I’ll be back home s-”

Danny blushed and stuttered out something awkward and intended to drag attention away from the slip of his tongue. But Clockwork just smiled, watching the boy finally gather his things and quickly make his exit promising to come back tomorrow for dinner.

Wasn’t there a human saying about home and food?

#dannymay2021 #Danny phantom #Clockwork #Lost time #danny fenton #Bee's writing

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Wound

@kawaiijohn

It didn’t take Clockwork long to find him, but any time was too much time. It shouldn’t have taken so much time. But—

Clockwork strained against the limitations placed on him, against the bonds of linear time, the obligations of his position. But they held fast. He wasn’t fast enough. It was inexcusable.

Still. He found him. Found Daniel.

The boy, the child, was wedged in a tiny corner made by three walls meeting at acute angles in the maze of stairs, walls, and other building fragments not far from the Fenton Portal. It wasn’t exactly a secure place, but considering the child’s state of mind, it must have seemed attractive.

Clockwork stopped some distance away, cautious of coming too close to Daniel and frightening him. Danny stared at him with huge, glowing green eyes.

They would have been more striking, if his whole body wasn’t smeared with ectoplasm of the same shade.

“Daniel,” started Clockwork.

Daniel’s breath, already shallow, hitched, and he curled deeper into the corner. Clockwork frowned, but drifted backward, trying to give Daniel the space he needed.

Clockwork wanted little more than to sweep over and snatch Daniel up, bring him somewhere safe to heal. But considering what had happened to him… Clockwork could see that such a course of action would only lead to disaster and pain.

He settled on the closest thing this place had to a floor and coiled his tail underneath him, prepared to be patient. He had to be patient.

Daniel made a sound that made Clockwork’s core ache. It wasn’t a natural sound for a young ghost, all discordant and broken, keening around the injury in his core. It was a sound of fear. Fear of Clockwork.

Clockwork couldn’t blame him. After all, Daniel didn’t remember him. Couldn’t, with that injury.

The core was a ghost’s brain, and Daniel had taken a significant blow to his. They were lucky that the damage was relatively minor. Temporary amnesia, and, perhaps, a slight headache when trying to recall early human memories while in ghost form, would be the most troubling of the side effects.

As for the main effect, the wound that cut across his chest… It would heal, given proper care, which Daniel would receive if he let Clockwork near him.

Which he might not, considering the amnesia.

Clockwork closed his eyes and focused on projecting calm, safety. Daniel may be injured and, not to put to fine a point on it, terrified, but he was a child ghost. They responded to things like that.

Sure enough, Daniel’s panicked breathing slowed to a more reasonable rate. He no longer looked like he was about to bolt at a moment’s notice.

Clockwork could only hope that was because he was calming down, not because the wound was taking its toll.

“Who are you?” croaked Daniel, finally.

“My name is Clockwork,” he replied, relieved, “I would like to help you, if you will allow me to do so, Daniel.”

He could practically see the gears in Daniel’s head turning, processing, weighing action against action, risk of trust against the still-dripping wound in his chest.

“Daniel… is that…”

“It’s your name,” said Clockwork.

“You know me?”

“I do.”

More processing. Clockwork knew he was fortunate that Daniel got a good look at the ghost who had done this to him, otherwise he would likely be even more wary, more suspicious.

“Okay,” said Daniel, finally.

“Alright,” said Clockwork. “I will need to take you to my lair.” He drifted slightly closer, and Daniel began to shake his head vigorously. Clockwork stopped.

“Not going anywhere,” he said, beginning to pant by the last word.

Clockwork blinked, disappointed, but nodded. “I can see what I can do here,” he offered.

Daniel hesitated, then nodded. Clockwork approached slowly, giving Daniel ample opportunity to change his mind.

Up close, the wound was gruesome. Leaking ectoplasm and bubbling. It seemed that one of Daniel’s lungs had been nicked, and it was a good thing that he didn’t need oxygen in this form. Clockwork carefully peeled first Daniel’s hands and then the fabric of his torn jumpsuit away from the gash. Daniel whined pitifully, but did not stop Clockwork, or lash out, which was almost more than he expected.

A ghost with an exposed core was extremely vulnerable. After filling one’s Obsessions, the instinct to protect one’s core was often cited as the next strongest.

Clockwork clicked his tongue, and with a flick of his fingers summoned a set of first aid supplies. Daniel had tensed again at the motion, but visibly forced himself to relax when he saw what Clockwork had brought.

“You’re doing very well,” soothed Clockwork. “I need to clean your wound and bind it. It may hurt.”

Daniel nodded curtly.

“I do have access to painkillers.”

Daniel shook his head just as curtly. “Just do it,” he said.

Demonstrating pain tolerance that broke Clockwork’s metaphorical heart, Daniel did not scream while Clockwork disinfected (Daniel was still part human, after all) and dressed the wound. He did start keening, deep in his throat, when Clockwork packed the wound with an ectoplasm rich gel designed to help ghosts heal more quickly, and halfway through Clockwork binding the wound, he started to shake, fine tremors running down his limbs.

By the time Clockwork had done what he could in this environment, Daniel was clearly exhausted and visibly fighting sleep. Clockwork waited, patiently. Daniel did not endeavor to drive him off.

After a few minutes, Daniel’s features smoothed into sleep. Clockwork eased the younger ghost into his arms and called up one of his portals, careful not to jostle Daniel further.

Daniel’s recovery would go much more smoothly in the clocktower.

He (Daniel?) woke up all at once with no idea where he was.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. He was in a bed. And there were clocks. And the walls were purple.

That was about where his idea of where he was ran out. So. Not a lot to go on. He tried to sit up, only to have agony rip through what felt like his very soul, and instead rolled over and curled up, trying not to make too much noise, because whatever had hurt him had to be nearby, looking for him, trying to finish what it had started, and he was so helpless, and—

Wait. No. He’d gotten away. Then that other ghost, Clockwork, had helped him, and Danny had…

What? Passed out?

That was embarrassing. Also troubling, because that seemed to imply that Clockwork had brought him here, and Danny wasn’t at all sure of the ghost’s intentions.

He had helped, sure, but how had he known that he (Daniel? The name sounded right, but… not quite) needed help in the first place? It was suspicious.

The fact that he couldn’t remember anything about himself or what he’d been doing before being almost eviscerated made the situation all the more stressful.

He took a deep breath, ignoring how much it hurt. Staying here, tangled in the sheets, would not help him. Slowly, careful of his chest, he extracted himself.

His eyes met Clockwork’s. He froze.

“Hello, Daniel,” said the ghost, shifting smoothly from one age to another. “How do you feel?”

He chewed on his lower lip. “Better?” he answered, uncertainly.

Clockwork smiled gently. “I’m glad. Are you hungry?”

“No,” he said, after a moment’s thought.

Clockwork nodded. “Are you in any pain?”

“No. I’m fine. I think I should go, now.”

Clockwork floated in front of him, blocking his path. “Daniel,” he said, putting a hand on Danny’s shoulder, “you need to take care of yourself better than that. Give yourself time to heal. Do you even remember anything, yet?”

He forced down his first, knee-jerk response, which was something along the lines of ‘how do you know that’ and instead said, “Yeah, yep, remember everything. It’s all peachy-keen.”

Clockwork fixed him with such a look of disappointment that he could almost physically feel the weight of it. He looked away, trying to suppress the feelings that rose up inside him.

“If you go slowly,” said Clockwork, voice kind and gentle. “I can show you around my lair. I know you will feel restive, trying to stay in bed. There are things here that may interest you.”

“Okay,” he said. “Sure.”

Internally, he resolved to escape as soon as possible.

#danny phantom #phic phight #clockwork #danny fenton #phic phight 2021

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