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strawberrysainz · 8 months

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secret garden. charles leclerc

“ charles joining you on holiday was definitely not planned. you begin to have small revelations. is it the wine, or are you truly thinking about his lips on yours? ”

charles leclerc x reader

a warning— crude language, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, slightly mature. some shitty french, italian, spanish.

word count: 4.1k

Your book seems to begin to blur as the lethargy of a Sunday at five o’clock tends to do what it does best; make you sleepy.

That, and your previous glass of wine seemed to be catching up to you.

The universe sends a saviour in the shape of your friend Lila: she pokes your stomach so you that look up through your sunglasses. You shut the book. It’s something about a twenty-something girl in the 1960s, who joins a hippie cult, and the facts make your head spin (you really couldn’t be arsed to focus while the wine makes you drowsy). You pause the playlist on your phone to look expectantly up at her. She’s a little bit drunk too; her hair is mussed up from laying down on the lounger. The Italian sun was perfect today, white wine flowing while you both tanned the day away. Lila had invited you to her fiancé’s (he worked for Ferrari) house in Tuscany for a week in the summer. It was picturesque and romantic, but he had to work for much of it and she wanted to spend the time with a person who was there constantly. With a getaway promised years ago, she finally followed through, and your second day was just as lovely as the first.

“Up for padel?”

“You mean… le sport?” You answer, giggling slightly. “The wine is in my head now, ma chérie.” You tease affectionately and she begins to tidy up her things to go inside. “Yes, le sport,” she mocks, “‘Tonio invited us to play.” “With who as the fourth?” You ask curiously; Antonio had lamented all day yesterday that he was ‘third wheeling, alone’. Lila pauses to focus on the question, delightfully tipsy, and her hand tries to fold the towel as she thinks. “He invited Charles to come stay too, they will train and plot for the season’s second half together. Now we will third wheel on them.”

You nod then, smiling, and pack up, giggling to yourself about the looks you’ll get from those two when you turn up fabulously drunk. “Is it a hazard to play padel with athletes when the wine makes me slow?”

Lila cackles, bumping her sunglasses back up on her face, sliding on her sundress. “Tonio might flip out on us for being useless, he’s so competitive against Charles. Charles is too nice to say anything. I hope I am his partner.” She snorts, and you laugh too.

“I hope Charles brought proper drinks too. Last time we had a party at Lando’s, that tequila he brought…” you sigh at the memory. “I hope he’s also on summer mode. No offence chérie, but your boy cannot switch off unless he has a friend.” You poke fun at the fact that he will only drink one glass of wine with supper and refuse to get drunk as fuck with the two of you. Lila hits you with the pillow.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

You two Uber to the padel courts Antonio frequents in Italy, too scared to drive (rightfully so, you’re a bit shitfaced). You drink bottles and bottles of water, staring into each other’s eyes to try and sober up, but the dopey looks make you burst out laughing each time.

You end up napping for ten minutes, trying to sleep off the wine. Then you pat each other’s faces, blinking and blinking, but you end up giving up. Padel with two competitive men will be more fun not sober. When the driver drops you off, he tells you he is praying for whoever you speak to in the next minutes. You two end up in tears of laughter from God knows what. It ends with a hefty euro tip, some swear words and catching Lila from falling onto the street. Eventually you make it to the courts, picking up the two racquets the boys left for you on a bench, and you stare at Lila. “I hope we survive this.” You say seriously, and she salutes. You are in peals of laughter when you reach their court.

Charles stares at the two of you with amusement as you nearly trip over the entrance. “Avez-vous bu tous les deux?” He asks, and he receives just a wink from you, pointing at the small wine stain on Lila’s shirt.

He stifles a cackle as Lila goes to kiss Antonio sloppily, who kisses her reluctantly before gently scolding her in Italian. “Tonio, mon rêleuse, we apologise. We have only received your invitation when the wine was flowing. We also bring a level of entertainment.” You announce, brandishing the racquet. Your bluntness makes even Antonio smile. “Alright, alright. I was planning to put you two together, but maybe we’ll each pair with a drunkard, no?” He nods at Charles, who smiles.

“I’ll look after my girlfriend.” He adds, and Lila groans. “No! I wanted to play with Charles, he’s better at padel.” Antonio looks the most hurt you’ve ever seen a man be.

“Le spectacle de merde.” You whisper, at least you think it is a whisper, to Charles. “Ouais,” he giggles. You smack his arm affectionately. “Tu es tellement adorable,” you say, pursing your lips in a sweet way, and he hugs you with one arm, rubbing your back. “Laisse le vin continuer à parler, oui?”

The way in which you solidly keep hitting the ball on the wire makes him laugh.

Antonio cannot keep himself from raging at the two of you being useless, and tries to calm himself down; Lila falls on the court laughing at his aggressive muttering. You cry with laughter every time she misses the ball (which is more often than not) which leads Charles to request a glass of the wine you had been drinking. Padel has never been more fun, in your opinion: your grip gets looser and your shots stronger with every point. Charles carries your team, and you exchange a fist bump every time. Eventually you two win 11-10, and Lila jumps over the net clumsily to congratulate you both. Carlos settles for a reluctant high five. “Antonioooo…” you drag out his name, and the ridiculous grief of a tiny loss on his face makes you grin. “Can you make your tagliatelle?”

Lila clamours for it too, and he groans. “Whatever.” You two jump into each other’s arms; you end up getting another Uber back to shower and change so the boys can stop and grocery shop as well as buy you drinks, ‘not wine!’ under your instruction. When they get back, you’re slightly more sober, having showered and changed into a bikini (for a night swim) and a linen set over it.

Lila is asleep with her head on the kitchen counter while Charles pours you a rum and raspberry. You’re grateful for the different drink, the headache beginning to pound its way into your head. Antonio starts on the pasta, and you three talk about how their training was, how your poolside day went, the tourists in the city this week, paddock gossip and Charles’ new piano song, which he plays a recording of for you.

“That’s very good,” you compliment, and he blushes. Antonio is busy stirring the sauce while you have revelations. Charles clears his throat, locking the phone, and you set the table. “I’m making scones tonight,” you announce, and in the early stages of waking, Lila cheers with a yawn.

“With what?” Antonio challenges, and you wink. “I brought all the ingredients with. Jam and whipping cream. We can have some for breakfast tomorrow.” “Gotta train harder for that!” Lila jokes, flicking Charles’ arm, who giggles in that stupidly funny way.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

Stomachs full and content, you and Lila float in the light of the pool. Occasionally you swat a mosquito out of your face, and your second R&R slowly slips away. “Still making the scones?” She asks, and you yawn. “Merde.”

You both laugh.

“Ti piace Cha?”

You stare at her.

“Sei pazzo? He’s most likely got some European model waiting for him in Monaco.”

“Ho visto come ti guardava.”

Your head hurts.

“Ma chérie, Cha could not look at me twice. There is nothing.” Lila makes a disapproving sound, and you splash her.

“Ho sempre pensato che non avrebbe mai potuto-“

Charles and Antonio, holding beers, make their way from the house to the pool. You shut up. You notice that they’ve also been drinking quite heavily, like you two- Charles is much too giggly, and Antonio has that drunken seriousness to him. They sit on the edge of the pool. “Where are those scones?” Antonio asks, and you roll your eyes. “Maybe I’ll make them fresh in the morning.” You yawn, making Charles do the same.

“Cazzata!” He replies, and you laugh with Lila. “Promise. I want to go horse riding tomorrow morning, the farm across the way said I could when we went with the dogs.” Lila shakes her head. “¡No puedo enfrentarme a un caballo, especialmente contigo!”

You snort. Antonio downs the beer. Charles is staring at the moon. “You okay?” You raise your eyebrows. “Just remembering last time I went riding.”

There is an awkward silence.

You can’t gauge his tone, and you make eye contact with Lila, frowning. “Well, if anyone wants to come, I would love to have them.” You clear your throat, and Antonio shakes his head. “Gym tomorrow.” Charles groans, putting down the beer. “Putain!” “You’ll have scones when you finish then,” you smile, and make to get out. “I’m going to bed if I want to get up at seven.”

Everyone wishes you a good night, and you make your way up to your room, still uneasy about Charles at the pool.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

Your third day in Tuscany continues as you walk into the house; you are greeted by the dogs. The door was unlocked - a classic sign of Antonio leaving - so you knew the boys had left. You opened the large windows after taking off your boots, letting the fresh morning air in. You yawn as you put on a playlist, beginning to bake as the soft sounds of music accompany you to it.

About fifteen minutes later the scones are in the oven, and you set out some things to eat them with - as the plates clink, you hear Lila walking downstairs. “Hi,” she drags out the syllable - you smile at her ruffled brown hair - a dog is leaping up at her - and you wish her a good morning, making coffee for the both of you. She comes to sit on a bar stool, and you grimace at the remembrance of last night - where she slept for a moment or so - and she seems to recall the same. “How did you get up at seven?” She laughs. “My head was killing me.”

You laugh. “I have no clue.” “Wasn’t Charles weird last night? Or was I just drunk.” “No, he was so weird.” You are hungry to gossip (you had gone to bed before you could debrief.) “What the fuck was he on?”

Lila covers her mouth, laughing. Yet again, before you can gossip, the loud sound of the front door opening stops you. You groan and take the scones out of the oven. “Good morning!” Antonio says aloud, and you nod at the two walking in.

Lila kisses him on the cheek. “We have been hard at work.”

You grin. “How was neck day?” Charles rolls his eyes. “As incredible as you think it was.”

You laugh then, putting the hot scones on a plate. “Merde, did you do these from scratch? That’s so good.” “You burn eggs and toast, mate. Anything is so good in your eyes.” Antonio nudges Charles, who blushes furiously and smacks his arm.

You stare at Lila. She mouths some unfathomable sentence to you and you shrug as Antonio reaches for a scone. Your phone starts ringing, interrupting this strange situation, and you answer it. “Salut maman.” You answer.

“Ma chérie, comment est la Toscane? Les bons jours d'été avec toi me manquent, mon amour.”

You make a face that’s screwed up with childish embarrassment. “Tu me manques et la famille aussi, oui ? Je dois revenir en France pour visiter.”

“Papa t'envoie du champagne des cousins, et nous allons faire livrer des fleurs. Notre fille nous manque.”

“Pourquoi tant d'amour ?” You laugh.

“Sans raison.” She says innocently, and you stare at Lila, confused.

“Ton frère va se marier!”

“Quoi!” You shout, grasping your chest.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

The news of your brother’s engagement leaves you still slightly concerned as Charles hands you some sort of cocktail. You take a sip and grimace at the ratio of rum to whatever else is in there. Charles laughs. “Haven’t they been together for a while?”

You shake your head, detailing that you’d met his fiancé - albeit a nice man - only once before. Antonio laughs. Lila smacks his arm. “You haven’t proposed yet, you cannot laugh.” Antonio’s face is a picture as you gasp for breath with laughter.

The sun sets on a slow evening as you laze by the pool with these people; you adore being in their company, you realise. You are still shaking your head with shock. “I can’t believe my brother is the first sibling to be married,” you grimace, and Charles laughs. “Which Leclerc will marry first, you think?” You ask him. “I don’t know. I think Lorenzo, because Arthur’s young. Definitely not me.” He emphasises with a face, and you laugh.

Hours later, you tell stories of your and Lila’s university days while the boys laugh, details of hookups and too much alcohol paint pictures of pure comedy. “Anyone want a scone?” You announce, going to make one in the kitchen. “I’ll come with,” Charles says politely, leaving the couple to themselves.

You end up pouring another R&R while you spread jam and cream, not eager to experience your hangover tomorrow morning. “Je suis un putain d’alcoolique.” Charles dismisses the thought. “S'il vous plaît, vous n'êtes pas spécial.”

You laugh. “It’s nice that you’re here. I always wanted to get to know you better.” You say off topic, switching to English, the languages getting mixed up in your slowed down mind. Charles laughs and pats your arm. “A drink makes you very emotional,” he jokes, and you make a face. “Be quiet.” “Let’s take a picture!” You switch up, mind spinning, and Charles is laughing as he takes pictures of you making scones with slow limbs, dancing, smiling, spinning.

You take a 0,5 of him in return, laughing at the weird expression on his face. You take selfies, air kissing, pulling faces, until your phone tells you you’re out of storage, and the moment is over, lipstick on his face. You laugh. He’s quiet.

“I can wipe it off,” you say quietly, trying not to ruin the comfortable energy in the kitchen. He lets you do it tenderly with a baby wipe, big expressive eyes staring into yours, wide with the relaxation of alcohol flowing through him. He leans in and you lurch back, shocked at the prospect of you two.

He pretends like he didn’t do anything, the little shit, and your eyes narrow as you pinch his ear. He cries out in pain, and tries to get you back, but you’re running with the scones in one hand and the drink in the other, cackling into the dark night, the comfort of the warmth.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

The next morning is rough.

You’re woken up with a lurching stomach, violently hungover. You decide a swim under the Italian sun is going to help, and change, going to the pool. Antonio is there, swimming laps, and you hover awkwardly around the pool before getting in. He greets you softly, not wanting to disturb the birds chirping down at the vineyard and the peace of the morning. “There’s this song,” you say, dipping your head into the cool water, relishing this delightful feeling that comes with the activity of swimming like a child. “I used to listen to it every day of my last year of uni. It’s this song that makes me feel so great inside. And I realise that I feel that way when I’m with all of you. Thank you for inviting me.” Antonio looks touched, as much as a guy could at that revelation. “You’ve still got three days with me. That could change your mind.”

You laugh, diving underwater.

From the kitchen window, Lila and Charles are talking, unbeknownst to you. She grabs his arm aggressively as he moves to take the fresh cup of coffee. “Do you like her?” He jumps with fright. “Merde- she’s very nice?”

Lila raises her eyebrows.

He groans. “You aren’t going to ask me if I like like her as if I’m twelve.” “Charles!” She folds her arms, and he casts his gaze to you lazing in the pool.

“No.” He says stubbornly, and he might have convinced her but he hasn’t convinced himself. Lila lets out a huff as she turns back to the breakfast she’s making; he looks down at the floor.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

Charles offers you wine. You nearly smack the bottle out of his hand. “No.”

The early afternoon is the precursor to your declaration of sobriety for the day; you and Lila take the dogs for another walk, getting dragged by their leashes as they leap and bound. You end up at the gym with her afterwards, sweating out your fatigue, and you try not to stare at Charles as he and Antonio walk in. Another game of padel is offered afterwards, and you two accept, playing away yet another lovely day and beginning of the evening. You’re much better at padel when you’re sober.

Then Antonio and Charles want to go clubbing, and you agree wearily, going back with them to change into some little strappy top and skirt. You have never decided your stance on clubbing - you love a night out somewhere, but the thought of it annoys you now, the prospect of a night in after a long bath sounding much better.

You and Lila pretend you’re back in your uni days, dark eyeshadow and dramatic makeup, perfume stinking up the room. You laugh at the two of you as you slip on some high heels, red lipstick everywhere, mascara accidentally smudging as you absentmindedly wipe your face.

You fix it before you’re running down to the car when you hear Antonio shouting about your tardiness. It’s a 4x4, and you slide chaotically into the middle seat next to Charles, Lila hopping in afterwards, your knee touching Charles’, skirt riding up. You let out a breath as Antonio has a bit of a nostalgic moment - he met Lila on a night just like this, with you two, at a club in Madrid.

“I feel nineteen again,” you laugh, seven years ago finding you again, the smell of Charles’ cologne rooting you back in the present. The driver is chattering on about Ferrari as you get Charles to take pictures of you and Lila, posing, then judging the pictures, high-fiving him for his great photography skills. You post one to your story, all wide eyes and pouty lips, and your followers begin to reply things about all those years ago.

You’re at the club twenty minutes later, a Khalid song sending you out of the car. You grab Lila’s arm and hug her, intensely nostalgic. Charles demands more pictures of you - Antonio agrees - you two must look good. He takes more, and then you’re all taking photos in the street light, and you’re handing your phone to some random girl who takes photos of all of you. She mumbles something in Italian and Charles thanks her very much before you’re all bundled into the club.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

Charles comes to drape his arm over your shoulder an hour later, sweaty, and he’s got lip gloss on his lips. You point at your own lips pointedly and he exclaims something that’s lost in the noise. He lifts up his shirt to wipe his sticky lips and your gaze is caught on his abs as his hand brushes his chest. You look away hurriedly.

A dull ache propels you onto the dance floor, and some guy leans in to kiss you and you let him, annoyed and jealous. But his breath smells terrible, stale, and you’re pulling away, shuddering, and run to the bar for some water.

You’re still retching like a cat with a hairball ten minutes later when Charles finds you again, and he laughs with confusion. You roll your eyes. “I’m gonna go for a smoke,” you shout in his ear, and he follows you, a hand ghosting your back. You shiver and run out into the heat.

You pull out a box of cigarettes and a lighter out of your bag and you light one hurriedly, the taste of that guy still horrid in your mouth.

You offer the cig, lipstick-stained, and Charles hesitates before you shrug. “I didn’t know you smoked,” he said, and you shrugged. “Only when I’m out.”

He nods then; you lift up the cigarette to his lips. He takes a drag, eyes shining outside the fluorescent light of the club. You breathe, and you can see a teenager standing beside you instead of a man in his twenties, sneaking a smile and a smoke in secret.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

It’s 2:26. You scroll on your phone as Charles talks lowly on the phone beside you (Leila and Antonio found some friends and decided to stay). You stare out at the moon, the light highlighting your face as you look back at Charles briefly. He’s already looking, and smiles slowly, bashful to have been caught. You can’t hide a smile.

His hand is laying tentatively on the middle seat, and your hand is on your knee. You both stare.

💋🍷🍝🫂💌

He’s pulling out a bottle of wine as you tumble into the house, the night welcoming you back to the villa. Your eyes are wide and his focussed on the glasses in his hand, walking carefully out onto the patio. You fall into a slightly uncomfortable metal chair and he pours a glass in the dark, squinting as you hear some crickets. You accept a glass with a quiet thanks and he sits down next to you clumsily, and the wine sloshes out onto his shirt and he curses quietly. You grin.

One of the dogs pad out onto the wood and the click of its nails makes your nose scrunch and it tries to jump on your lap; with a groan you attempt to shove it off and Charles gets up, laughing, pushing, and somehow he ends up staring into your eyes, bending down, and some force of nature propels you to capture his lips with yours. You let out a little sigh as he wraps a hand in your hair, and he’s pulling you up and the glass is forgotten and it’s twilight hours in the dark.

The trembling anticipation of a new lover ignites a new energy there outside. You wrap an arm around his neck and you both push forward against each other. It’s the kind of kiss where everything just works; your lips slot so perfectly, and his hair feels soft beneath your hazy movements.

The dog interrupts by licking your knee, and you move backward with a shudder. He’s moving in again, shoulders taut, and his arms are smooth as your hands grasp them, bodies moving sensually under the light of the crescent moon above.

Your watch beeps and you look down to see a notification from Lila. You ignore it. Charles is instead running fluid hands over your hips, liquid gold, and you’re melting, drowning in the heavy look in his eyes. It’s as if the puzzle piece has just slotted into place. A newfound frenzy causes you to pull him slowly into the house, bare feet meeting the dark wood below. You nearly crash into a glass window before you’re in the kitchen, and he’s bending your back slightly over a counter, finding your neck with his lips, nipping, sucking, and you’re parting your lips with delight, body moving with his.

His facial hair is scruffy, and the sensation causes you to arch a little and he slams you back down. You moan.

He grins.

A hand flits up your back, under the shirt, feeling the skin, and you shiver when he rubs a thumb over a piece of your spine, and he’s leaning back to study you, cheeks pink in the dark, and he goes back in for a kiss, smiling broadly.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x you #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fluff #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1

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kaylinlmfao · 4 months

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i hate you! but oh how i love you

type of piece: imagine, drabble, oneshot, series

type(s) of writing: smut, fluff, angst, dark, suggestive

warning(s): mentions of sexual stuff but no actual smut in this part, teasing,, murder, violence, gore, this is mostly just plot

pairings(s): dark!dom!ethan landry x sub!fem!reader

A/N: here is a special, dark fic for a treat for me and for you guys. keep the requesting coming! I love this request, more like this one please! thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy! this is part 1 (no smut just plot)

if i wrote an ethan x fem fanfiction and kinda combined the elements of my oneshots and put them into an actual book would y'all read it? (on wattpad)

just a couple of different things from the movie in this fic. sam, tara, kirby, and chad all die. so do quinn and bailey. all killed by ethan. ethan survives and we'll see where it goes from there.

"ok, ew. get a room you two." you say to tara and chad, accidentally walking in on them kissing. "how about you get a room? we already have one. this room." tara tells you, laughing. she knows you're excited for her. she's liked chad for as long as you can remember. your smile fades as you look behind her. "TARA MOVE!" you shout as the masked killer drives a knife into tara's back. she lets out a cry of pain as chad begins dodging and fighting the killer. "oh my god, tara." you run over to help her up off the floor. "it's ok. it's ok" you try to reassure yourself. you lift tara off the floor, slinging her arm over your shoulder as you try to get her to the door.

"chad! come on" you shout as he kicks the ghostface hard, then rushing over to help you with tara. you swing open the door. "oh my god!" tara shouts. you scream as you see sam barrel through the door. she looks at the three of you in shock before chad starts rushing us to go. "come on, go go go." he ushers us through the door as i glance back at the figure, struggling to get up from their place on the ground. "it's kirby! she's the killer!" sam exclaims as you all are running through the theater. "no shit!" chad runs over to the door you came in before being stopped. "it's locked. come on." "so we're trapped?" you ask, full of fear. this isn't your first rodeo with ghostface, oh no, but you always feel a huge wave of fear when seeing the mask. whether you see a person wearing the mask on the street, or seeing an actual killer wearing it, it brings back bad memories of your ex girlfriend.,

"kirby made this whole theater a kill box. for us." sam voices. tara spins and points upwards. "hey, what about that? there's an exit door. maybe it leads to the roof or something?" she asks, breathless. "there's only one way to find out. let's go." chad orders, grabbing tara's hand. i grip sam's hand as we turn to run. suddenly, another masked ghostface comes out from behind the curtain, swinging their knife. with an extra hard swing, one of the mannequin heads goes flying. "beheadings!" chad shouts, tackling the killer. "chad!" you shout, pointing to the camera behind him as sam rushes to help tara. "smile for the camera motherfucker" chad exclaims, swinging the camera, the figure on the floor flying back from the force of the blow

you push the movie curtain past you quickly, running through. "over there!' tara points as ghostface comes barreling from somewhere behind you. you take the lead, running down the narrow hallway, just trying to get away. another masked killer appears on the opposite end of the hall. now, you're all blocked in from both sides. before chad turns and throws the camera he's still holding at the pursuer behind you. "get fucked!" he shouts. you run into the room you began in, chad pulling the popcorn machine down in front of the figure rushing after you all. the killer swings his knife at chad, aiming to slice and dice. sam and tara each grab one of it's arms, pulling the person back. you subtlety turn, looking for the metal baseball bat you brought for protection. bingo. you grab it from where you leaned it against the wall while talking to chad and tara.

you take the bat in your hands, shout a loud battle cry, and swing at the masked figure, hard. they go flying to the floor with a loud cry of pain. it's a female. now more proof that it's kirby. tara pulls her foot back, crying out from the strain on her wound, and kicks the masked person on the floor, hard. "holy shit tara. brutal" you say, grabbing her and sam, backing up as chad picks up a glass machine off of the counter. "you hit them with a baseball bat" sam counters as chad fixes to throw the glass on the ghostface writhing in pain on the floor. you chuckle with pride. "i know." you see something behind chad that makes you scream in fear. "chad!" you cry, trying to warn him. you're too late, and you watch as the killer drives their knife into you're best friend's side. "no!" you and tara shout in unison. sam holds tara back, gripping your arm at the same time.

the other killer stands and they begin stabbing chad, over and over. you're on the verge of breaking down, again. deja vu. and your boyfriend ethan and mindy still haven't shown yet. you hope and pray that everyone survives this as you turn, unable to watch the scene in front of you, but knowing that there is nothing you can do to help chad. "run" he mouths to you, smiling sadly, blood flowing freely from his mouth and the other wounds on his torso. his body falls to the floor, and the two masked killers wipe their knifes in one swift motion. you run with tara and sam, vision blinded by tears. you cry out in surprise as another ghostface emerges from behind the curtain. the masked killer from before appears on the other side, shaking and waving their knife at you.

sam reaches down and picks up three bricks, handing one to tara and offering one to you. with a shake of your head, you decline. "i've got this" you say, readying your bat to begin swinging. you, tara, and sam form a triangle, tara and yourself gripping hands, sobbing. "ready?" sam asks as tara lets out a cry. "i need you both to be ready? ready?" she repeats. you nod, reaching for her hand, closing the circle. your holding onto sam and tara's hands for dear life, watching as the two sisters reach for the others hand. "deja vu" you whisper. "look at me" sam orders you and tara. "ready?" you glance at sam, then at tara. you may not be blood, but these are your sisters. "im ready" tara tells her. they both look at you. "ready as ill ever be" you say with a smirk, slinging your bat over your shoulder. "come on motherfucker!" tara screams, baiting the masked figure behind you.

suddenly, a loud gunshot sounds from behind you and you see kirby emerge from behind the movie curtain. "it's ok." she attempts to calm the three of you. "stay the fuck back!" sam shouts. "we know it's you kirby." tara tells her. "no! one of them knocked me out." she says, breathless and panting. "kirby stop! get away from the girls" detective bailey orders, pointing his gun at her. kirby mirrors his motions, pointing her gun at him too. "what are you doing?" kirby questions. "did you kill quinn? did you kill my daughter?!" bailey asks, distraught. "jesus christ! whatever he's been saying to you, don't listen to him. he's probably the killer." a ghostface appears behind the detective. "behind you!" kirby shouts, trying to warn him. two gunshots are fired and kirby falls to the ground. "holy shit." you say, shocked. "great job" bailey praises the ghostface standing behind him. "oh fuck this fucking shit. you cheap fuck!" you scream, staring at kirby's body in shock.

another ghostface emerges from behind detective bailey. "both of you" "you?" tara asks, still in shock. "yeah, of course me. frankly, i expected more from the two of you after what you did to us." "what do you mean us?" the one on bailey's left pulls her mask off. "quinn?" (i know i changed the order but it fits my idea better) sam asks in shock. "hey roomies. you didn't see that one coming did you?" "yeah, because you died!" "kinda didn't though. it was a good way to get off the suspect list. stab gale weathers, stab mindy on the train, that sort of thing." "yeah, and i just made sure i was first on the scene so i could switch her body out with a fresh one. little fake blood, a prosthetic. you'd be surprised with what a grieving father can get away with" you jump a little, pumping your fist. "i fucking knew it! i knew it! i told you guys that she wasn't dead, but you didn't believe me! i told you, i said she wasn't dead. the blood on her walls was fake. I FUCKING KNEW IT!" "so who's the other one?" "mindy?" you ask, breath caught in your throat.

the mask was pulled off and your legs buckled at seeing your beloved boyfriend, ethan. you fell to your knees, feeling the rush of emotions that you felt a year ago come back to you. ethan looks at you with a deranged look in his eyes. "mindy was right. it was easy to juke the roommate lottery. all i had to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named chad. fuck, it felt good to kill him!" ethan continued speaking but you tuned him out. you couldn't stand to hear his voice or look at his face. you couldn't do this again. you just couldn't. the emotions were flooding you, the feelings overwhelming. you stared down at the floor, tears dripping onto the floor. feelings of hopelessness, sadness, betrayal all coursed through your veins. but soon they were all covered with a thick blanket of rage. red hot rage.

you stood, reminding yourself to stay strong. staring at the ground, tears still slipping down your cheeks. "i got stu macher's mask. he was my favorite." quinn says. "nice. that's number three, and that's number two." he pulls a ghostface mask from within his jacket. "which leaves, your sister's" he says pointing at you. "who's your sister?" tara whispers. "jill roberts" you whisper, still looking at the floor in shame. "this is what we've been counting down to, y/n. i'm gonna need you to put it on." bailey looks at you, holding the mask out to you. so broken. "fuck you!" you hear sam yell on behalf of you. ethan swings and slices open sam's upper arm. "ok! ok! im taking it, jesus. you psychopath" you glare at the boy you once thought you loved. you take the mask in your hands and stare down ashamed at it. you feel someone slip behind you to come stand in front of you. you know it's ethan. you know. he grips your chin, pulling your chin up to point your gaze at him. "oh princess. there's nothing to be ashamed of." he stares deep into your eyes, noticing how cold they are. you've never looked at him like this before.

but it's ok. he has a plan. and eventually, you'll get over it and understand. and you'll be his, though you have been since the day he saw you for the first time. he backs up to stand next to his father and sister. you were still staring at the mask that you held. suddenly, you heard commotion from behind you and saw the fight begin. but you couldn't. you couldn't fight. you didn't have it in you. quinn and bailey vs sam and tara. it wasn't a fair fight, that's for sure. sam and tara didn't have any weapons. you could help them a little bit but then you needed to find a way out of this stupid theater. you ran over to kirby and saw that she was still conscious, but barely. "i'm gonna need this. ill go get help. i promise" you whisper softly. kirby looks at you hard for a moment, and you share a moment of understanding before she slipped into unconsciousness.

you turn, feeling eyes on you. ethan. he isn't helping his father or sister. it's as though his only focus is you. his stare is scaring you, and though you'd never admit it, causing a heat to rush down to your core. damn him. you hate him. you do. but, oh. how you love him. (see what i did there lol?) you walk towards tara and sam, crying out when you feel someone coming up behind you, grabbing you by your throat and yanking you against their upper body. "fuck you, ethan!" you yell, drawing the attention from both your family and his. "but sweetheart, we already did that. i love to to do it again though." he whispers, kissing your neck softly. you bring your elbow forward and elbowing him hard, taking ethan by surprise and giving you just enough to to slip out of his grasp. "sam!" you shout, getting her attention from quinn advancing on her.

"catch" you bring your hand back and throw kirby's gun. for a split second, you think she won't catch it. it will slip from her grasp and everything will go downhill from there. and so it does. the gun slips and falls down to the ground, where you try to grab it. but a tall, 6'2 figure stands in your way. you're on your knees and he's standing in front of you. you're eye level with his bulge. you remember this position all too well. and judging by the smirk on ethan's face, he remembers it pretty well too. he opens his mouth to speak, probably to say something that will infuriate you further. "oh just shut up! oh my god, you bent, twisted motherfucker!" you yell, standing quickly.

your breath catches in your throat as you realize how close you are to ethan. the height difference between the two of you was causing you to be eye level with his chest. you could see his muscles in his chest as he took a deep breath. you feel his fingers lifting your chin, so gentle, like you were glass and ethan was afraid to put the slightest crack on you. your eyes meet ethan's and you almost whimper. ethan's gaze on you is nothing like he's ever looked at you like before. full of lust, looking at you like he was going to devour you. "ethan" you breathe, so quiet, so soft. you quickly snapped out of the trance he had you in and dove, grabbing the gun off the ground and pointing it at ethan.

ethan began slowly walking towards you. "put the gun down princess." he says it as he normally would, but you feel mocked and teased. "you better back the fuck up unless you want a bullet in between your eyes, princess." you mock him, quickly walking backwards until your back is met with a hard surface. ethan continues walking towards you until there is only a enough space to put the gun against his chest in between the two of you. he glances down at it and then back at you as he speaks. "oh? don't talk like that. we both know you wouldn't be able to pull the trigger, sweet girl" you blush at the nickname and you know he sees.

"go ahead, pull the trigger." you freeze up as he move closer to the point where you have to move the gun, the butt pressing painfully against your chest. you hear the commotion going on in the background, but with the way ethan is standing above you with a bloody hands, it's making you dizzy and you feel like you're gonna pass out. you feel your head empty just as he somehow always caused it to do. it takes an extreme amount effort to get your head straight, telling yourself that this isn't ethan. it isn't the ethan you fell in love with, at least.

you swallow. "fuck you." you whisper, feeling the burning tension between the both of you. ethan chuckles as his expression turns to one of even deeper lust. you feel his hot breath on your face as you get angrier at the slick forming in your panties. "fuck you." "i hate you so much. i hate you for doing this to me and for breaking my fucking heart. i wish–" you stop at as ethan begins to speak. "what do you want, sweetheart? keep fucking talking, slut. keep trying to convince me you hate me." his gaze drifts to your lips. "i hate you" you sob. you're interrupted by the feeling of your mouths crashing together in a rough, lustfilled kiss. and, to your own surprise, you don't fight it. you can't bring yourself to shove him away. the sexual tension between the two of you had gone to the point of being unbearable, and the harsh way his lips move against yours and the way his tongue probes into your mouth makes you light headed.

ethan pulls away and looks at your lust filled, scared expression. "that's what i thought. you still want me, even i killed all your friends." you shake your head with a whimper, tears running down your cheeks. "i don't want you." you whisper. "oh my pretty girl. so confused, aren't you? don't you remember you cockdrunk and sobbing after i fucked you just last night?" he brings his lips to your ears, whispering. "when you couldn't say anything at all? all you could do was cry and beg me to stop touching your sensitive cunt and your puffy little clit? and i know you want to do it again. dirty little whore. my dirty little whore."

'i don't want you" you say, more trying to convince yourself than trying to convince ethan. he laughs, glancing down at your tear streaked face and big doe eyes. "ok, little one. ok" you wiped your tears quickly and shoved him off of you, turning and running down the nearest hallway. "you don't have to run, you know. I'm gonna catch you no matter how fast you are." you hear. ethan’s voice is cold and irritated as he stalks towards the hallway you just turned into. you're distracted as you trip over a gap in the hardwood floor and come crashing to the floor, and then, the sound of his steps hurrying up to meet you fill your heart with even more fear. your heart is already racing from the adrenaline of trying to escape the psychopath that you once called your boyfriend. The bloody tip of his knife rounds the corner before he does, and it's enough to fuel your desire to get up and stumble around the nearest corner, into a bathroom.

you slam the door behind you with the force of your body against it, and attempt to fumble with the lock for a split second before running to grab the nearest object, a marble vase to try and buy you a few seconds. It's not even seconds until he's turning the knob, trying to get in. the door rattling the entire room suddenly and your heart hitting the floor as he speaks. "open the door, my love. i won't hurt you as long as you behave." you're not allowed even a second opportunity to look for a way out, to even consider the option of jumping out the second story window on to the concrete below, or just hide and pray for mercy. Because three loud, earth-shattering crashes of his shoulder meeting the hardwood door splinters it almost immediately after the third hit, and you're so close to the door that one of those shards flies and slices open the heel of your hand–and now, instead of using those few precious moments to come up with a plan to get away, you're crying and grabbing your wrist in pain, blood gushing from the wound and splattering all over the white tile floor.

the pain derails your whole train of thought, your vision blurring with tears as you fall back and shake with shock, leaving a trail of crimson blood on the tile behind that leads straight to you. one more crash of ethan's shoulder against the door does the trick, and ethan has successfully crushed a hole in the bathroom door, his arm reaching through to unlock it so it only takes a quick kick to open. "man, you made me break the door. this is probably pretty valuable" his eyes turn to you, bright and brown and angry. "and you cut your wrist." ethan reaches out for you, and doesn't stop when you flinch away from him. you have nowhere else to go, no way out, what are you gonna do? you're aren't a threat to anyone but yourself. you're a helpless little thing, and when ethan does grab you, he's gripping your wrists so hard you're already begging him to stop and let go. "why don't you beg me not to kill you, princess?" he whispers, brushing your hair out of your face, behind your ear to whisper it directly into your ear–his voice makes you shiver, like it's a cold breeze in the across your neck. "i'm kinda considering it. you're pissing me off. you won't stop running away from me"

"what now? why are you looking at me like that?" he moves away from you to meet your eyes, but the fear is clear in yours–you watched him help murder your best friends, your family. what does he think you are? happy? no, you're petrified. "i'm so scared…" "scared? I'm scaring you?" You nod your head in the most pathetic fashion, with a quivering lip to top it off. ethan isn't just scary. A horror movie is scary, a bump in the night is scary. ethan, he's utterly terrifying.

"Then why are you soaking wet?" His question stops your mind in it's tracks, confusion etched on your face, but your stuttering and stammering stops short when you feel his big hand brush your thigh. you jerk away from him on instinct, but his harsh grip on your hurt arm keeps you flush against him, and you're forced to stand and shiver as his fingers fly under your skirt and they come to cup your pussy over your panties. he rubs a teasing thumb into what should be a random spot, but he knows where your clit is from past experience and knows how to press so firmly and hard to make you squeal. even your body is betraying you right now, and that strip of soft fabric between your legs is completely soaked for him to enjoy to the fullest. "you want this. you want me, huh? so bad that you're soaked" you shake your head no violently, too wound up to open your mouth because you know the words won't come out the way you want them to.

"yeah, that's it. you want me to fuck your brains out. you just want my attention. that's why you're running from me. you want me to catch you." "No!" you sob, trying to push him away again. ethan ignores your outburst and the shove you try to give him to get him off, ethan yanks you harder against him for you to feel how hard he is beneath the ghostface costume he's wearing, and for his fingers to prod you even rougher as he blindly searches for a way into your panties. "I don't want you ethan!" "You do!" He barks back, the growl of his voice sending an unwanted cold shiver up your spine. now he's found a way in, his fingertips brushing your folds before losing any gentle or tenderness they might have had and pushing their way inside. He's big, brutal, fingers working in to spread you out and shucking all that wet slick into his palm. his lips meet your cheek, hot and soft, and he has you hooked. nothing but him

you feel his breath hot and shaky on your ear. He doesn't seem to care you're up on your tiptoes, gasps of pain and pleasure dying in your throat, because he's got his fingers so fucking deep. ethan is preoccupied, you know as much by the absent strokes against your clit with his thumb, moving in no specific direction. "so pretty like this. blood on your face, crying for me." ethan pulls away suddenly, cheek still sticky with blood you wish was fake. it's on you too, smeared down your jaw like a smudge of scarlet paint, and his hands are covered in it too, that he's rubbing it into you for his own pride and sick pleasure. while he looks you in the eyes, he doesn't move his fingers from inside you, nor shows any expression aside from a deep, dark lust over his brown eyes that betrays the terror that a true psychopath could bestow.

"Your body is mine. this pretty pussy is mine. You're all mine." He mutters below his breath, spreading his fingers inside you to watch you gasp and your eyelids flutter as they fill with tears. you let out a loud cry as you coat ethan's fingers with your cum. as you come down from your high, you think about how wrong this is. your friends, they would want you to get out. they would want you to get to the hospital and tell mindy and gale before ethan got there first. "get away from me" you say, shoving ethan away hard. "but i don't want to. i want you to ride me and milk my cock until you're crying" he says it so innocently, it infuriates you to no end. "shut the fuck up!" he opens his mouth again to probably say something even dirtier, but you don't let him. maybe it's time to take a different approach. "you really want my pussy to clench around you? to milk you dry while i cry and scream your name? you want me to jump on your fucking dick until i can't think?" you ask him in a sultry tone.

he groans loudly. "fuck yeah, princess. i do. and i fucking will every single thing you just said right here, in every damn room in this fucking theater. you'll be so fucked out and overstimulated you'll be begging me to stop." "oh?" you tilt your head, looking at him. this is it. he moves towards you slowly, away from the destroyed door. "well ethan. let's do it then." you feel his big hand on the back of your neck as he slams your lips onto his. you quickly bring your knee straight up, nailing him in the dick. "well, you can't do any of those things if i cut your fucking dick off, can you?" your mood changed so fast you couldn't even regulate it. it was like you had an alternate, darker personality. just like ethan. you look at him, a deranged and feral look in your eyes. ethan wasn't scared. he was turned on. and now, he was pissed as fuck and in pain. he wanted to pound you until you cried, remind you who could make you feel so small so quickly. you stomp hard on ethan's foot as he cried out in pain. "you wanna know my secret? it wasn't sam who sliced up your brother. it was me. after he fucking groomed my girlfriend." that part was not true either. it was also not true when people said you were just like your sister. but he doesn't need to know that. ethan almost came in his pants. you were so hot when you were feral, though it was acting and he knew it.

you turned and ran out the door while he was distracted. you needed to get help. some of your friends could be alive. "man, i should get an oscar. that was some amazing acting if i do say so myself" but before you could find an exit, someone pulled you back. it wasn't ethan, it was kirby. she was still on the floor, barely conscious. she grabbed your ankle and you leaned down slowly. "im going to get help. it's ok." you attempt to reassure her. "get out of here. there is an exit behind the back hallway. there's a room behind there. it's soundproof, it's what they used for filming and editing. there is door that leads outside. go" she struggled to finish speaking before she passed out again. you followed her instructions, turning past chad and bolting towards the door. you're running fast, and you speed around a corner. next thing you know, you run into a hard chest and you're sprawled out on your back. sharp curses leave your mouth as you stare up at ethan. "fuck me" you curse. ethan smirks. "that's the plan, princess."

send in requests I beg

#ethan landry smut #ethan landry #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #scream 6 #ethan landry drabble #dark ethan landry #yandere ethan landry #dom ethan landry

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misc-obeyme · 2 months

Note

Hi cc💕 could I request some mammon fluff headcanons 🥺🥺

Hi there, anon!

Of course you can, my friend. I'm sorry it took so long! But I actually feel like this turned out pretty okay? It's definitely fluffy at any rate. And what can I say, I love Mammon. I still don't know what it is about him.

Thank you for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

GN!MC x Mammon

Warnings: none

Everyone knows that Mammon is down bad for you. Even though he tries to play it off, he can't truly hide it from anyone. He will bluster and try to maintain his cool guy persona, but the reality is that no one is fooled. And the minute you're alone with him, it's like he becomes a different demon.

Mammon is a troublemaker, but he's also fun. When you first meet him, he's always scheming to find ways to make some fast Grimm. But as time goes on, he starts scheming about the best ways to make you smile. He comes up with some elaborate date ideas, taking you places that he thinks will impress you, constantly trying to outdo himself.

Despite this, he also enjoys a simple hang out. He'll take you in his car and just drive around the Devildom. He surprises you by stopping somewhere remote with a beautiful view of the city and the stars. Any time he wants you to himself, away from the chaos of his brothers, he asks if you want to go for a spin. You know this eventually leads to steamy make out sessions on the car hood because Mammon has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

He's overprotective sometimes, but it makes you feel safe so you don't mind. If he ever feels like you're threatened in any way, he will immediately get between you and whatever the danger is. You have to talk him down occasionally, when a perceived insult from someone makes him start throwing punches.

Mammon likes to touch you. He needs the physical reassurance of your presence. He's always seeking out your hand or putting his arm around your shoulders. Even just sitting close to you is enough, your legs pressed together. If he can have his arms around you, he will. In quiet moments, when you're alone, he'll hold you as close as he can. He'll bury his face in your neck, taking in the feel of you, his grip almost desperate like he won't survive if he ever lets go.

It's at those times when he also finds he can't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. Words that he would never say where anyone else could hear. Words that he's kept bottled up for too long. Words that when he finally says them, he realizes he needs you to hear them. You listen and it's like stream of consciousness, almost incoherent, but there's no question that every word is about how much he loves you. About how important you are to him. About how he can't stand being apart from you.

He might even apologize. He knows it's his greed that makes him like this, too needy, too clingy, only wanting more. More of your time, more of your attention, more of your touch and your words and your soul - more of you. He might need your reassurance. Please, MC. Please tell him that ya don't mind. You hafta understand what ya do to him.

You do understand. You tell him as much, as often as he needs to hear it. You hold him close when he wants your touch. You stay beside him when he wants your time. You always answer when he calls you, always focus on him when he's with you. It turns out you've fallen just as hard for him as he has for you. Both of you are so lost in each other it starts to feel like nobody else even exists.

In those rare moments when you are apart, you can almost feel that red string of fate tying you together. When you enter a room that he's in, your eyes find him before anything else. And he's always looking right back at you, a bright grin on his face. When you're thinking of him, your D.D.D. will ding with a message where he's just saying hi. When you're in the human world, it feels like the universe is conspiring to bring the two of you back together.

Mammon will take you to parties and buy you expensive gifts that he worked hard to earn the Grimm for. He will make you feel like you've won the jackpot every day of your life. His favorite thing is to hear you laugh and to laugh with you.

He doesn't bother to think about how human you are. He has told you simply that he just wants to love you while you're still with him. Don't worry about the future. Not when he can have you right here, right now, safe in his arms.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #omnb #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me fanfic #om headcanons #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #om mammon #obey me mammon x reader #om mammon x reader #obey me mammon x mc #om mammon x mc #misc cozy comforts #misc writes

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greatooglymooglyyy · 1 month

Text

The Last Ride Chapt. Three (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

series masterlist

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

contains: strained parental relationship, flirting, sexism, 1.8k words

a/n: this my work, do not replicate it. do not repost as your own. this is such a filler chapter y'all but i think we needed some character development

“You have anything else for me today?” I ask Chris as I yank off my work gloves and shove them in my pocket. He shoots me a quick glance over his shoulder before he goes back to unloading the truck.

“Did you fill the watering-”

“Yes.”

“Did you walk the fence to see-”

“Yep. And told Uncle there was a loose spot by the north pasture.”

Chris turns and studies me for a second before his mouth pulls up in the ghost of a smile. “Well, alright then, little miss farmer. You can go.”

“Thank god.” I sigh in relief at having survived my first week and spin to leave before tossing Chris a curt, “Have a good weekend.”

He nods back at me in recognition, opening his mouth like he wants to say something else before apparently thinking better of it and turning back to the truck.

*******************

I can’t believe that I’ve become a person whose most exciting plan on a Friday night is a long bubble bath. But I’m not even mad about it. After a week of chasing down animals and lifting feed, I have muscles aching that I’ve never even felt before. Not even after pilates.

When I’m done soaking away my sorrows, I get dressed and head into my room. But before I can follow through on my plan to sleep for approximately the next 22 hours, my phone begins to ring.

I know before I even look down that it’s my dad and I sigh deeply. I’ve been dodging his calls and texts since I got here, using work as an excuse, but he knows I have weekends off. Flopping onto my bed in defeat, I slide the bar over to answer.

“Yes, Dad?” I try to keep the bitterness out of my voice but the pause in his response tells me I failed.

“Hey, honey. I was just, um, calling to check in on you. How’s the ranch?”

I give a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, it’s great. A dream.”

There’s silence on both of our lines for a few beats as we each wait for the other to give in.

“Look…” Dad starts, his normally strong voice wavering a bit. “I just wanted to tell you…”

I wait as he trails off, hoping he’s about to open the door for us to get over this but he seems to bail out on his original thought.

“... I wanted to ask how you’re doing on cash. There are some cool shops in town. Don’t just rot inside all day while you’re there. Here I’ll transfer something to your card.”

Disappointment floods over me as my bank app notifies me of a deposit. “Cool. Thanks.”

We say an awkward goodbye a few minutes later and I throw my phone on the bedside table. I turn off my lamp and stare up at the ceiling, deep in thought. As I drift off to sleep, I can’t help but wonder if my dad and I will ever have more in common than just money.

*******************

I take his advice and take my uncle’s truck into town to explore. The experience of driving a pickup truck is every bit as humbling as I expected it to be, especially with the loud backfiring. But when I pull into the parking lot for the shopping strip, I see that I fit right in for maybe the first time since I got here.

I step into the first clothing store I see, a cute little boutique with pink cowboy hats in their window. It’s pretty busy when I enter so I stick to browsing the walls, smiling to myself at the section of belts with huge buckles.

I pick up a shirt that says “Say howdy, stay rowdy” intending to take a picture but sit it down when I remember I don’t really have anyone to send it to.

A pretty girl in a camo Chevrolet hat taps me on the shoulder and gives me a friendly smile when I turn. “Hi! Can I help you find anything?”

“No thank you...” I glance down at her nametag and return her smile. “...Abby. I’m just looking.”

She nods and leans in close to whisper. “Girl, I really just came over to say how much I love your purse. It was all over my vision board this year.”

I laugh at this and look down at my Marc Jacobs tote bag. “Do you want it? I hardly ever carry this one.”

Abby’s eyes widen and she shakes her head quickly. “No! I couldn’t-”

“Girl, seriously. It’s no big deal. I open the bag and pull out my wallet and lip gloss, having not even bothered to switch the rest of my belongings over this morning, then hand her the bag.

She takes it slowly as if she’s sure it’s a trick and then beams at me. “Thank you so much! That’s way too sweet.”

We talk for a few more minutes, exchanging socials before her boss comes around the corner and calls for her.

“Ugh.” She groans, rolling her eyes. “Let me get back before he has a cow. Don’t be a stranger, okay? Text me.”

I promise I will and leave the store, hiding a smile.

As I start making my way over to the next boutique, the door to the ice cream shop bursts open and a small girl runs out. She just may be the cutest kid I’ve ever seen in my life with her huge blue eyes and pigtails that curl delicately at the ends. The girl skips my way, her little hand holding a cone, and almost bumps into me. She stops short and smiles up at me sweetly. “Sorry!”

I smile back, squatting down a bit. “No problem, honey. I love your shoes.”

At the compliment, her face brightens up even more, stepping back to show off her cowboy boots better. “Thank you! My brother got them for me. They have my name on the side, look. E-V-I-E. Evie!”

I laugh and nod my head. “Very cool, Evie.”

The ice cream door opens again and a familiar frame steps out. “Little girl, what have I told you about walking away from me?”

I raise my eyebrows as Chris comes over and places a hand on Evie’s head. Without my permission, my eyes trail themselves over Chris' outfit, taking in the rare sight of him out of work clothes. Somehow he looks even better than usual in his simple white tee tucked into his jeans, a gold chain hanging casually around his neck. He’s got a cowboy hat in his hand and he pulls it on, adjusting it as he looks up and finally notices me. His brow furrows in confusion as he looks between the two of us. “Scotch?”

I wave awkwardly and smile. “Hi.”

Evie looks up at me blinking slowly. “Your name is Scotch?”

“Y/N.” Chris and I say in unison, making heat creep up my skin.

“This is Mr. Buck’s niece, remember?” He adds, looking down at Evie who nods. With them standing next to each other, the resemblance is striking and I can't believe I didn't make the connection immediately. His eyes dilate with love when he looks at her and I can't help but grin at their sweet bond.

Chris looks back over and me and raises his brow, reaching out and tugging my sleeve. “Ain’t it a little hot for this?”

I scoff and gesture down at myself, smoothing a hand over my faux leather jacket. "You do what you must for the look,” I say with fake cockiness and he laughs. “Why are you always hating on my style?”

He grins, clicking his tongue. “Believe me, Scotch, the last thing i'm doing is hating.” I raise an eyebrow and he adds a quick, “I mean, it don’t make me no nevermind is all.”

My lips pull up in a smirk and the moment stretches on for a bit too long as he holds my eye contact until Evie taps her foot and interrupts. “Why are you looking at her so funny, bubba?”

We snap out of it and look down, Chris giving her a confused look. “What are you on about?”

“Like your eyes are sparkling. It’s weird-”

“Okay! We gotta go. Let’s have a little chat about strangers on the way.” Chris cuts in, taking her hand to lead her away. “See you Monday, Scotch.”

“See you.”

“Bye Y/N!” Evie yells over her shoulder. She turns back to Chris lowering her voice only slightly. “You’re right. She is pretty.”

“Shh-”

Oh wow. My heart does something funny but I ignore it and cross the street, deciding to head back home. As I walk past a group of boys my age, someone lets out a low wolf whistle and I turn in disgust.

A boy with the greasiest mullet the world has ever seen runs over from his group of friends and starts walking backward beside me.

“Well, damn girl. You gotta be the finest thing on this side of the Mason-Dixon. Where they been hiding you at?”

“Jesus. Does that usually work for you?” I say, picking up my pace a bit. He grins, clearly taking my tone as a challenge, and steps into my path so I stop walking. “Get out of my way.”

“Oh c’mon on, darlin’. They don’t let y’all smile in the big city?” The boy flashes me what I’m sure he thinks is a sly smile and leans in closer, running his eyes down my body. “Let a country boy give you a reason to.”

I scoff and cross my arms, opening my mouth to give him hell, when Chris appears behind him and claps a rough hand on his shoulder.

“How about you take a few steps back, man?” Chris suggests, setting his jaw around his toothpick and giving the boy a dark look from under the brim of his hat.

He seems to wilt immediately under Chris’ gaze, cutting his eyes from his to mine. “My bad, bro. Is this you?”

I narrow my eyes, annoyed that the only thing stopping him from harassing me is another man. “Or maybe I’m just a girl who isn’t interested?”

Chris lets the boy go, stepping closer to my side. “You heard the boss, Mason. Why don’t you go mack on your girlfriend?”

He smacks his lips and puts his hands up. “Whatever man. I was just being nice. She ain’t even all-”

Chris levels him with a dangerous stare and he snaps his mouth shut. “Watch your mouth.”

Mason rolls his shoulders back in forced nonchalance and heads back over to his boys who yell out taunts and ooos.

“I could have handled it,” I say stubbornly, looking over Chris’ shoulder and noticing Evie waiting a few feet away.

“I know you could have.” He replies without hesitation. “I don’t think there’s much you can’t handle.”

He doesn’t wait for my response, spinning on his heel and heading back to his sister. I stand there and watch them fade down the street, forcing down a smile as my understanding of who Chris is shifts in my mind.

🏷️/ @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @rootbeerworshiper

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babyyoda234 · 3 months

Text

Tea Time with Alfred

Context: Alfred has always been a close family friend of your Grandma. After her death both of you haven't been dealing with the grief very well, so you decide to start hanging out more to ease the pain. (Y/G/N: your grandma’s name)

Knocking on the door to Wayne Manor, I fumble with the basket of muffins in my left hand. A very confused Jason opens the door.

"Look Y/N..." He begins awkwardly shifting his balance. Guilt spreads across his sculpted features.

"With love, I'm not here for you." I interrupt putting my hand up to silence him, "Whatever you have to say, save it for another time."

Brushing past him, I wander down the hallway past a dozen or so portraits of the Wayne family. With the high ceilings and shelves filled with books older than my great Grandma, I narrowly get lost in the grandeur. One of the glass shelves catches my attention. A much younger looking Alfred beams up at me while a soaked brunette angrily swats at his shoulder with a shoe. My heart contracts when I recognize the woman. Years before she got sick, Y/G/N was radiant. Although the photo is in black and white, I know for certain she is wearing her faithful orange sweater that was in rags by the time I came around. The photo reads: Alfred's revenge London 1965. My eyes well up with tears at the thought of her being so healthy. The image of how frail she looked in that hospice bed will forever be burned in my heart.

The next photo over shows Alfred, Grandma, and I at my first visit to Gotham. Freshly nine, Gotham was such an adventure. Driving into the city was... nothing short of magical. There may have been crime in every corner, but her stories brought much needed light into the city. My 9 year old self hadn't yet grown into herself. With cracked glasses I had broken moments prior and aggressively neon braces, my fashion had a long way to go. I was probably too big to go on Alfred's shoulders at that point, but he picked me up anyway for the walk around the city. The crowded boardwalk behind us sold the best deep fried oreos in Gotham city. A teenager at the time, Dick had convinced me that the secret ingredient was cocaine... As an adult looking at Gotham city, that joke may not be too far off.

The infamous smell of Alfred's baking grounds me to the present. Dickie isn't stealing my gameboy anymore. He's happily living in Bludhaven revamping their police force. Shit, I really need to call him back. How do you tell someone that if you talk about it there is no guarantee that the crying will ever stop?

It doesn't matter what he’s been saying. It's better to not burden him with this. I take a deep breath to avoid a breakdown. Cookies. Tea time. Glancing at my watch, I realize I'm five minutes late. Classic y/n.

Alfred's back is to me when I finally stumble into the kitchen. A mischievous grin emerges on my face as I creep closer making a conscious effort to silence my footsteps. Jason used to say that watching the two of us sneak up on each other was like watching a cheetah stalking its prey. Of course, Alfred always made it look so easy though. Halfway there....

Stirring a bowl of brownie batter by hand, he calls out to me.

"You've got to do a lot better than that if you want to sneak up on me."

I stifle a laugh throwing my hands up in surrender.

"Sorry Alfie.... Old habits die hard. You would not believe what happened to me today..."

Conversing with the older man fills a void, I have been missing. Telling him about life made everything less scary. If I can spin these horrifying events into a joke during tea time.. well I guess I can survive it.

Alfred isn't one to diverge intense grief, yet I will never forget how heartbroken he was when he explained how painful it was to talk to me. Although our features may be completely different, it was the mannerisms that hurt the most to see: the way I held my hands when I was nervous, the anxious laughter in stressful situations, the silly regency romance novels that sat on my bedside table, the intense hatred of the barren winter... My entire being has been shrouded by her love. For better or worse.

The first couple months, I could almost pretend she wasn't gone. Working two jobs while attending school doesn't give me much time to reflect. However, the holidays left an unspoken hollow void. The empty seat at dinner. The contact I would instinctively dial. The horrible sinking in my chest when I remembered the phone would ring forever.

At the beginning, I think we both pretended we were talking to her. Now as I cackle over his photo collection of Tim falling asleep in public places, I realize how much I love the man who was so important to her. This pain may always stay with me, but what is grief if not love persevering?

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thedeviltohisangel · 23 days

Text

All The Things I Did (5): I Hope I Don't Lose You

a/n: THE SEXUAL TENSION IS PARTIALLY BROKEN. let us all rejoice! light smut ahead but so worth it for these two to finally make each other cum, okay? this should mean inbox is open for sexy times discussions. i promise cass will let john love her soon, she is just scared, ok? they have their first fight but we will survive. standing by to chat//accept blurbs and asks and prompts. love you guys xoxo

warnings: smut

Cass was at a table in the corner of the social club when John and Curt entered. She had skipped out on interrogation, more curious about the envelope Mary had said had come for her marked as urgent from Washington. In it was the identity of the new Commanding Officer for the 100th Bomber Group, slated to arrive the next day. It was none other than Colonel Chick Harding.

She had met Chick Harding in London on her way to Thorpe Abbotts. Her first test as a field officer was to conduct a suitability assessment of a RAF officer one of her colleagues at the embassy was hoping to turn into a source. Cass had been making great progress, her nerves fading the longer she realized she was good at this, when Colonel Harding had made his presence known.

Since she was a teenager, Cass was used to men of all ages flirting with her. Remarking on her dress or her hair or her smile. It always made her feel icky but her older sister told her it was the price for being pretty. Harding had flirted with her, hadn’t tried to hide it, but it was different. Not forceful. Not relentless. Not like he was trying to use his rank to convince her of a certain outcome. After the circumstances under which she had left South Carolina, the attention had been welcome. Reminded her she wasn’t soiled goods. She knew it couldn’t be more than that and was on her way to her flat for the night when the Colonel had slipped a piece of paper into her hand. It made her laugh, the instructions on where she would be able to find him after the party. She hadn’t used them but they had made her feel giddy. And now it looked like Colonel Harding was set to become a more permanent presence in her life.

“You’re looking particularly pensive tonight.” She looked up from the packet at the sound of John’s voice, a glass bottle of Coke placed in front of her and two rocks glasses of whiskey placed across from her.

“Huglin’s been relieved of his command. Just reading some background on the new Colonel.” He pressed a thumb to the crease between her eyebrows to smooth it out.

“No talk of work,” he muttered as he leaned in for a kiss. She obliged him gently and let him pull her off the chair. “You know I love this song.”

“You love every song,” she giggled as he led her into a spin. He caught her against his chest and shared in her laugh.

“With you as my partner, how couldn’t I?” Their lips met halfway and he lifted her slightly to save the strain of going on her tippy toes. “I always ask you to dance but somehow we always get distracted from the actual dancing.”

“I’ve been told I have that effect on people. Handsome men in particular.”

“Ah, you talk to a lot of handsome men recently?” He dropped her into a dip playfully.

“I’m surrounded by them but one in particular…one in particular has caught my eye.” Her forehead rested against the side of the neck as he pulled her back up.

“Tell me about him.”

“He’s one of the most intelligent men I’ve ever met. Has this little curl that falls onto his forehead that drives me crazy. Says things he means and makes me feel…,” she swallowed thickly and John nodded. He was giving her permission to say it. Validating that it was true. “Loved.” The sound of the band and the bartender pouring drinks and the white noise of conversation faded into the sound of her heart beating in her ears.

“Cass,” he started, ready to say those three words. Once and for all get them off his chest and into the atmosphere. Relieve himself of the burden of knowledge and hopefully accept hers in return.

“Not yet.” He froze and took a step back at her words. “I know you tried the other night and I just opened the door again but not yet.” Not when the other paper in that folder had said what they had. That she was selected for an operation into Berlin. An operation that had been unsuccessful three previous times. An operation where the last agent had come home draped in an American flag.

“Right. You say all those things and I’m just supposed to keep suffocating on my own words.” He backed away from her, Cass not used to this sense of dread in her chest. “You know, emotions aren’t inherently dangerous. You’re allowed to have them, Lieutenant.” She almost recoiled from the use of her rank. He downed his two previous glasses with ease and moved towards the bar to refill them.

“John, it’s for good reason. Trust me,” she pleaded as she reached for his arm.

“I’m sure it’s too classified for someone like me. I’m not worth the risk, right?”

“What? I’ve brought you in as much as I could! Shared everything with you-” One more glass of whiskey went down his throat. “You were the one I asked for when I got off that plane. The one I reached for because I knew you would make me feel safe.” A single tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away with anger. Another whiskey as he clenched his fist at the memory.

“That feeling I had running towards you. That feeling I had when that son of a bitch got in the way of reaching you.” He brought her hand to rest flat against his chest. “The way I felt when you told me I was yours. That is what is trapped in here, Cass. That is what you aren’t letting me express to you.”

“If you do, and something happens to me, I’ll never forgive myself.” John was Air Exec. He’d be safe on the ground, in a control tower, locked away in an office to wait out this war. He had an after. Cass wasn’t so sure she was guaranteed the same.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“I got my next field assignment.” She didn’t elaborate any further but he thinks he was reading the implications behind her eyes.

“When do you leave?” he relented. He regretted spending even a second angry with her now. Regretted being the cause of her tears. Wanted to spend the rest of the night apologizing.

“Soon. They are sending me with a partner for this one, waiting for his arrival.” Cass hugged her arms around herself. She felt cold. Something missing between her and John that had been there earlier in the night. A distance between them she wasn’t used to and didn’t like.

“You going to say goodbye this time?” His fingers twitched to reach out and touch her but it felt wrong. Like the tether between them had snapped and needed more than the setting had to offer to fix it.

“Never goodbye. A see you soon.” John looked up at the ceiling with a pitiful laugh.

“Fuck, Cass, what are we going to do? A flyboy and a spook. We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

“I vaguely remember asking if you were a hotshot the first time I met you.”

“Only one of us has ended up in the medical wing.” Cass snorted and looked away from his analytical gaze. “I’m sorry.” There was a lot left unsaid but it was a start. She opened her mouth to respond when Curt’s voice echoed across the bar.

“Bucky! Round on me, let’s go!”

“I’ll be over in a minute!” He wanted to fix things first. Get back to where they were at the beginning of the night.

“Go. I’ll catch up with you later.” She was reminded that the 100th had lost more than a few men that day and they were there to mourn them in the first place.

“You sure?” She nodded, John leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. Cass gripped his chin before he could pull away.

“Kiss me properly, Major.” He grinned wickedly, his heart returning to it’s normal rhythm, surging forward to oblige her request. It was hungry and all consuming, frantic and frenzied. John pushed her hair over her shoulder to get a better grip around her cheek and groaned as her hands slid up the front of his chest with a deliberately slow pace. They only separated when the whistles pierced through the veil, John going back in for one, two, three more pecks to her lips before he fully pulled away.

“Does that work?” Her lip slipped between her teeth and she nodded.

“Until later.” His knuckles brushed against her cheek longingly before he disappeared to the other end of the bar with his men. Cass grabbed her folder from the table and disappeared out the back door, ready to retire for the night. A couple hours of sleep would do her and emotionless heart some good.

----

She woke before the sun, the look in John’s eyes seared into her memory. Maybe it wasn’t worth trying to stop him from saying he loved her anymore. Maybe her worry about breaking his heart was misplaced. Cass thinks he would be strong enough to handle it. The longer he was out here, the better he would get at compartmentalizing his emotions. The losses for the 100th had only just begun. She didn’t know how she was supposed to watch him wear them.

Cass needed some fucking air. Hopeful the cold would shock her back into her usual, even keeled self, she slipped her silk robe over her nightgown and stuck her feet into her boots before finding her way outside. She wasn’t surprised to hear voices, assuming Lemmons and his men were up early to work on the planes, but she recognized them with a furrowed brow as she got closer and two figures on top of the plane came into focus. Clearly it had ended up being more than one round.

“Do you feel anything?” That was John. He was holding a bottle of whiskey and his uniform jacket was billowing in the breeze.

“Yeah, I miss those guys,” Curt responded.

“I don’t feel a thing anymore. Unless I’m with Spook.” He smiled wistfully. “With her, I feel everything.”

“She’s good for you. She’s keeping you sane out here.”

“Driving me insane more like it.” He needed to snap out of it. “Can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“I want you to hit me. I want you to land one right on my beak.” She considered stepping in but was curious to see this play out.

“Major-”

“Don’t give me ‘Major.’” He threw his jacket to the ground. “Ranks off.”

“Stop horsing around.”

“Horsing around? I’m not a horse.” Cass watched him goad and goad Curt until his fist snapped forward and John’s hands flew to his nose.

“Bet you felt that.” She emerged from her hiding spot behind the tail of the plane and John smiled.

“Lieutenant Cooper, can I trust him in your hands for the rest of the night?” Curt hopped down from the wing as she nodded. A kiss on his cheek as a thank you and he was off to try and catch a few moments of sleep.

“Baby, come up here.” He moved to the edge and gripped under her arms, lifting her onto the wing of the plane with an ease that had her feeling warm in the cool early morning air. “What’re you doing out here?” John nuzzled his nose against hers lovingly. It had only been a few hours but he had missed her.

“Going for a walk when I heard a couple of hooligans and decided to check it out in spite of my best judgment.”

“This hooligan never got the chance to properly apologize to you earlier.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Her hands rested against his chest and she looked up at him with adoration. “I shouldn’t have shut you down. Losing you scares me more than I know how to say and I’m not used to being scared.” Or used to being in love for that matter.

“My little Spook,” he traced his thumb along her bottom lip, “you don’t have to have your armor up around me.”

“I’m working on it. Just have to be patient with me.” Cass welcomed his kiss and recognized the pleasant ache that was settling between her legs. This man was making her feel things no other had in more ways than one.

“You take all the time you need. I’ll be here.” Call it the effects of alcohol or lack of sleep but John was feeling weightless. Like if he didn’t have her right then and there, he’d float away. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Testing the waters, she undid the knot of his tie. He watched in a daze as his mind tried to catch up with what he thinks she was asking. She tossed it in the same direction he had thrown his jacket.

“John,” she cooed as his mouth watered at her robe slipping off one of her shoulders. “I need you.”

“Tell me where you need me.” Her frustrated groan was swallowed by his kiss, his hands slipping from the small of her back to grab at her ass, his lips moving to latch onto her neck with the goal of leaving a mark.

“Need you everywhere,” she gasped as his tongue soothed over the blossoming accessory he had added to her throat. Cass moved his hand to the hem of her night gown and guided it up and up until his fingertips met her hip bones. He moaned into her kiss as his fingertips teased along the top band of her underwear, tracing down the front of them until he found the spot that made her hips buck.

“Ah, right there?” John removed his hand and caught her as she collapsed into his chest. “I’m going to take care of you, baby, promise. Just not out here.” He jumped down from the wing, reaching to lift her down after him. As soon as her feet hit the ground, her lips were back on his and her fingers were undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“When I said be patient with me I didn’t mean at a glacial pace,” she quipped. He laughed, one thumb stroking over her pulse point in her neck and the other hand pushing her robe off her arms the rest of the way.

“You know how to climb into a B-17 or do you need a hand?”

“I think I’ve made it very clear I need your hand.” She stepped towards the open hatch and gripped the edge before tucking her feet in line with her head and landing in the hull. John can’t deny he got a little harder at the sight. He followed suit and welcomed her into his lap with no reservations now that they were away from any potential prying eyes.

“A dream come fucking true,” he whispered as she stradled him and he got a good look at her. Chest flushed. Hair wild. Nightgown strap slipping down her arm. John hooked a finger under it and slowly helped it the rest of the way, goosebumps sparking on her breasts as they were exposed to his gaze. “Beautiful.” His lips latched around one nipple, her breath catching and back arching to press further into his touch.

“That feels good.” Her voice had an edge to it that drove him wild. His tongue was soft as it lavished against her and her blood rushed between her legs at the thought of what it would feel like there. Where she needed him the most. John hummed as they popped out of his mouth like a lollipop.

“Been dreaming about having you like this,” he whispered as she nipped at his bottom lip. “Dreaming about what was under that lace in your office that day. About the sounds you make when I kiss you…right…here,” his lips attaching to the spot on her throat in question and the moans that gave him a reason to live were music to his ears. And he hadn’t even gotten her sleepwear off yet.

“What else have we been doing in your dreams?” she asked as they kissed languidly. John pressed forward until she was laid gently on her back and her knees fell to the side to accommodate him. He shrugged off his button up and lifted his undershirt over his head, Cass sitting up to kiss across his chest before using his dog tags to pull him back down with her.

“Going to take more than one night to show you.”

“Good,” she smiled sweetly in direct contrast to the sinful state she was in, “I was hoping to keep you around for a little while.” He started at her lips and worked his way down to gently tug her nipples with his teeth before bunching her nightgown at her waist and settling where he had left off on the wing of the plane.

“You always sleep in these delicate, little things?” Of course John had thought about ravishing her. Thought about what she would look like in a thin, silk nightgown in the moonlight. Thought about what might be underneath it. If anything.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He would. Desperately. But he settled for kissing the skin where it met the lace, Cass squirming at the affection. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” he asked without looking up. The tip of his nose found the spot from earlier, a smirk lighting his face.

“Fuck, John, yes. Yes, I always dress up for bed.” There was something domestic about the notion that tickled a satisfying corner of his soul. He liked learning the nooks and crannies of her. Liked the idea of getting to know her routines and habits. Of learning how to merge their lives together.

“I like that. Easy to see how wet you are.” John pressed his thumb to the front of her panties and circled slowly and gently. “Look at me.” Cass propped herself onto her elbows and reached to push the curl that had fallen onto his forehead back into its place.

“I’m looking and I like what I see.” Flushed and drunk on love, John Egan looked like he was exactly where he belonged. He pressed harder with a cheshire cat grin as her head dropped back.

“I like what I see too, gorgeous.” The lace slid down her legs slowly and his lips followed down, the undergarment over his shoulder and forgotten, then back up so no inch of her skin was left untouched.

“John Egan, an attentive lover,” she teased.

“Only for you.” Only for the girl he was in love with. Thinks he loved her the moment he saw her. Knew he would love her forever. “Are you going to behave?”

“Not if you make me wait-” Her words faded into a sigh as he finally flicked his tongue against her. His hands hooked over her thighs, he spread her open as he coaxed sounds of heaven from her mouth and a sensual writhing of her hips.

“Taste like a fucking goddess,” he groaned, dipping a finger into her as her breaths came quicker.

“John.” God, he could fucking die at the sound of his name coming out of her mouth like that. A second finger. “Fuck.”

“You going to cum for me?” He rested his cheek against her thigh and admired the view. He wanted to sear this moment into his memory. The moment he saw her with no walls. Completely vulnerable. Trusting him with seeing her like this. This version of her was the one he was fighting for. The one he would die for.

“Only for you,” she said, echoing his earlier statement. Promising he was the only one who would be with her in this way. Promising a forever of nights like this. John understood the sentiment as it settled in his chest.

“My pretty, pretty girl,” he cooed before his lips closed around her clit and pushed her over the edge. His hands pressed down on her hips to keep her from escaping his mouth as she came with a call of his name and a tug of his hair. She shivered as he kissed the insider of her thigh, between her breasts and onto her lips. “Did so good, baby.”

“Who would’ve thought. A flyboy and a spook.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief as her hand moved towards his belt buckle, his hand on her wrist stopping her.

“Who said I was done with you?” And if Cass called his name into the night a few more times before the sun rose, that was between them and the moon. And if John learned her tongue could charm a sinful symphony from his lips, that was between them and the stars. And if Ken Lemmons stumbled upon their discarded clothes and folded them neatly by the wheel while they slept in each other’s arms, only the sun and the clouds needed to know. And if John woke before her and held her tighter and kissed her forehead with a promise and a prayer, a promise to protect her and love her and a prayer that he would have the opportunity to do so, well that was between him and the man upstairs. John Egan just hoped He was listening.

#masters of the air #john egan #callum turner #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan fanfiction #callum turner fanfiction #masters of the air fanfic #john egan fanfic #callum turner fanfic #john egan x oc #john egan x reader #cass and bucky

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omgreally · 1 year

Text

His / Joel Miller/F!Reader / 1.1k / E18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: Smut from start to finish, possessive!Joel, oral (f receiving), fingering, rough sex, very unsafe PIV sex, breeding kink (no need to squint, it's there).

Summary: Joel finally loses control with you. —

Joel knows he shouldn’t, but sometimes, he just can’t help himself.

It’s a human fear, something different to the everyday worries of survival. Something he hasn’t needed to think about for a long time. With Tess he was careful - with you, it’s like he doesn’t want to be.

He wants you to be his.

He wants to rip your pants off and tear the crotch of your panties and fuck you until you know that you belong to him.

He wants to make love to you slow - until you’re panting, squirming like a pinned animal and begging for him to make you come.

He wants you on your knees, up against a wall, on the floor.

He wants to tell you how gorgeous you look, stuffed full of his cock. And he imagines how it would feel to thrust deep and hold himself there until the tremors of oncoming release takes him, his cock throbbing with his pulse as he fills the welcoming heat of your pussy with his come.

But he knows that as soon as his head stops spinning and clarity replaces endorphins, he’ll have to deal with the fallout of reality, so he controls himself. Somehow.

Until one night. One drunken night. A bottle of whiskey saved for a special occasion and your shirt unbuttoned, begging for the burn of stubble against your unmarked collarbone. Joel watches the flutter of your pulse in your neck and bites his tongue until he can taste blood.

There's no words. Just a moment where your eyes meet and you raise your eyebrow like you know what he's thinking - or maybe you're thinking the same.

Either way, it's not long before open-mouthed kisses and hands under clothes turns into to the heat of skin against skin, the taste of saliva and scotch.

Joel practically devours you once he has you naked - like he wants to taste every part of you. You're happy to oblige, parting for him like the sea, the salt of your sweat and the tang of your arousal bursting on his tongue. One hand on your hip, the other on your ankle to hold you still as he licks through your folds with lazy strokes that drive you wild, your teeth marking indents in your knuckles, the urge to cry his name swelling in your lungs.

When he starts on your clit with the single-minded aim of a sniper taking the shot you moan a broken, wounded sound that only spurs him on. Two fingers sliding home inside your pussy, crooked against the visceral clench of your muscles. You can feel his savage grin as he wrests the sounds from your throat. Victory sings in Joel's blood, an animal, instinctive victory, and he's too far gone in the immediacy of how fucking good you feel and taste to care if the neighbours hear you.

A deeper, darker part of him hopes they do. Hopes everyone in Jackson hears and knows that you're his.

Joel waits 'til your thighs are trembling and your toes are curling and you're leaking into his palm, ready to come - and then he pulls back. You gasp and swear at him, furious right up until he wrestles his jeans down his thighs to free his cock from his underwear. Then you're soft again, soft and pink and open for him and no one else, and the slide into the tight heat of your cunt feels like a homecoming.

He sits up, holding your thighs open with his hands on the insides of your knees, watching you stretch to take every inch. You're trembling, a sheen of sweat rendering your skin in gold. Joel leaves the outlines of his fingers on your skin, white pressure marks that take a moment to fill in, your inner thighs flushed red where his beard abraded the sensitive skin.

You watch him above you through hooded eyes, your hand on his wrist, nails pressing into his skin. Anchoring him to you. And you wrap your legs around his waist and lift your hips to meet his, bearing down on his cock, enveloping him whole in the intoxicating grip of your body.

And he knows then that you've claimed him as much as he is claiming you.

He draws out, thrusts back in, and you're so wet from the torture of his mouth that he can hear the soft, organic sounds of the impact. He grabs the outside of one thigh, lifting your knee into the crook of his elbow - your spine bows as he leans over you, spreading you open. He hits something deep enough inside you that you stop breathing and for a moment he's worried he's hurt you until he feels your fingernails in his shoulder and the gasp of "Joel, more," in his ear. He obliges, driven by the hungry clench of your pussy.

He's not going to last long. Whether it's the whiskey or the effect of your body, he's close. But you were close before too, and it only takes the squeeze of his hand in between your bodies, the brush of his calloused thumb across the plush, swollen nub of your clit before you're there. Your head thrown back, your mouth open, the column of your neck begging for the outline of his teeth, but Joel just watches as you come undone, feeling the tremble of your abdomen against his as he thrusts in deep and holds himself there and -

He's too close - he needs to pull out - he rears back but your thighs are locked in marble relief around his hips and you feel so fucking good squeezing his cock like a rippling vice -

Joel groans, deep in his chest, grinding into you as his dick throbs and he fills you spurt after spurt of his come. He presses down on your knees and opens you up so he can pull back a little, watching the jerking pump of his shaft, until it starts to overflow, pearly rivulets of spend staining your skin. He lifts your hips and thrusts back in to keep it all in there as long as he can, every drop of him, every inch.

He leans over you, spent, pressing his sweaty forehead into the mattress. In the clarity of the fading endorphins, Joel waits for regret; but instead he feels the touch of your hand on his face and your lips against his cheek -

"I've been waiting for you to do that for ages."

And he realizes you were his from the start.

—

tag list! ;

@stealyourblorbos @tortor-mcgee @aprilqueen84 @letsfuckshitup @whataenginerd @its-nebuleuse @inkededucatednnerdy @myloveistoolittle @harriedandharassed @jreads @awhiskeywithawinchester @gnpwdrnwhiskey @monkcastlelover

#the last of us smut #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller/reader #joel miller/f!reader #joel miller/you #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x f!reader #tlou smut #the last of us fic #joel miller/reader smut #omgreally; joel miller/reader

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nieded · 9 months

Text

#RainbowRoad for Rainbow Railroad Charity Drive

CLICK HERE TO PREORDER

Hello, everyone!

As you may know, a couple of years ago I wrote a Good Omens fic called Sit Tight, Take Hold. It kicked off an amazing friendship with a group of people who have now come together to organize a fundraiser to support an LGBTQ+ non-profit.

I'm really excited to announce that we are running a charity drive to support Rainbow Railroad alongside the release Good Omens Season 2 and the third and final part of the #rainbowroad series, Fools Rush In.

What is Rainbow Railroad?

Rainbow Railroad is a non-profit organization that works to relocate at-risk LGBTQ+ individuals to safety globally.

"As a result of Rainbow Railroad, more LGBTQI+ individuals can access lives free from persecution, and ultimately, we envision a world where LGBTQI+ people can live lives of their choosing, free from persecution."

If you've read STTH and AALS, you may remember that Formula 1 visits a multitude of countries that have poor human rights and are unfriendly to LGBTQ+ individuals. I vacillated between many charity organizations before settling on this one, which encompasses the global nature of the #rainbowroad universe and some of the challenges the characters face. Thank you, @kookaburra-laugh, for suggesting this charity!

Great! How can I help?

@dustandhalos, @blairamok, and @cinnabarmint are releasing prints of their art for #rainbowroad on Etsy. Art options include:

a. A 5x7 postcard pack of 6 prints featured in STTH!

b. An 12x18 poster of Crowley's C8ZR1 from part two, Accept A Little Spin

c. And last but not least, an 18x24 print of Ezira's signed Anthony Fucking Crowley poster.

[Preview images are protected with anti-AI cloaking technology Glaze, and may depict slight pixelation and/or distortion. Printed art will not depict this distortion.]

BUT THAT'S NOT ALL. WE ARE PRINTING SIT TIGHT, TAKE HOLD. Thank you, again, to @blairamok, who made the astounding cover art.

I will update everyone once I get the physical proof, but the book includes 428 pages incorporating the tumblr posts, news articles, and text messages. The dimensions will be 6x9x1, printed in color on 80lb matte paper.

How does this work?

CLICK HERE TO PREORDER

Preorders open TODAY and will run for a month until Friday 9/1. Once preorders close, we will submit the orders to the various printers. All proceeds will go to Rainbow Railroad, minus the cost of printing and shipping orders. We hope to start shipping out merch mid to late-September. Depending on how many orders we get will depend on how quickly we can ship everything out, but we will keep you posted once preorders close.

Hopefully, if you order something and live in the US, it will arrive by the time Fools Rush In finishes posting on 10/13.🤞🤞🤞 We will be shipping internationally as well!

What if I can't afford to order anything?

That's okay! Please reblog this post so more people can see it. It will bring more attention to the charity drive and more attention to Rainbow Railroad!

What the heck is #rainbowroad?

#rainbowroad is a trilogy about our favorite Good Omens characters reimagined as Formula 1 drivers. I have no idea how this came into my head beyond binging Good Omens and Drive to Survive at the same time. The final part of the main trilogy, Fools Rush In, is currently posting and slated to end on 10/13. It is COMPLETE.

Thank you to my friends and all the readers who have made this possible! I am so excited to share this with you. Please reblog to boost awareness. If you have specific questions, shoot me an ask!

Massive thanks to @dustandhalos, @blairamok, @cinnabarmint, and @kookaburra-laugh for making this possible!

ni <3

#rainbowroad for rainbow railroad #charity drive #sit tight take hold #rainbow road #good omens fic #ni speaks

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festivalsofmargot · 1 year

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hi!!!! i love your writing style, it’s so beautiful! when you have the time, could i request Ominis x reader where they have a really bad fight and Ominis says something really mean like totally out of pocket to where their relationship is cracking so he has to win her forgiveness and love back 😭 i love angst it hurts me so good

The 3 Boys & The Hogwarts Champion

{Garreth Weasley/Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Introduction: The TriWizard Tournament was a tournament that promised glory, but also a tournament with a death toll so high, just surviving it would be the accomplishment of a lifetime. Your significant other had begged you not to put your name in the Goblet of Fire. You told him you wouldn’t, but you've done so anyway in secret. These are the reactions of Garreth, Ominis, and Sebastian when they not only realize you put your name in behind their back, but that you’ve also been chosen as the Hogwarts Champion.

Word Count:

Garreth: ~ 2,200 words

Ominis: ~ 1,700 words

Sebastian: ~ 2,400 words

Warnings: Kissing, Angst

Author’s Note: Thanks for the request, anon! And I'm so happy you enjoy my writing ❤ I hope you don't mind I got Garreth and Sebastian in on your request haha. You can go ahead and jump to reader and Ominis' fight, there aren't any rules here. 😉 Sorry for taking so long on my fanfics! Work has been nuts lately, I've fit in writing whenever I had the drive and wasn't mentally burned out from my job. Hope you enjoy and have fun with it guys, got some good ol' angst written up for ya 😚

Songs (if interested):

Garreth’s song: War of Hearts (Acoustic Version) - Ruelle

Ominis’ song: Granite - Sleep Token

Sebastian’s song: Is It Really You? - Sleep Token, Loathe

Garreth:

When Garreth heard Headmaster Black announce your name, his blood went cold, the entertained smile vanishing from his face. But - we agreed you wouldn’t… No. No, this isn’t fun anymore. Stop this. Stop all of this now.

He watched you as you made your way up to stand with the other champions. You were smiling, happy, proud as can be that your name was chosen. But he caught the guilty look in your eye when you glanced his way. You lied to me.

The room seemed to be spinning while he sat still in his seat, looking Headmaster Black’s way but not listening to what he was saying about the tournament. His ears were ringing, he was starting to feel sick.

As soon as everyone was dismissed, Garreth shot up from his seat, wanting to get out of the Great Hall as fast as possible. You wanted to chase after him, explain yourself. But you could only watch Garreth’s form walk away as you were guided with the other champions out to discuss the tournament expectations.

Garreth had gone numb. The one he loved most had lied to him, deciding some dangerous, unnecessary tournament was worth more than him. Without thinking, he had gone to Professor Sharp’s empty classroom and started brewing whatever came to mind. He wasn’t in the mood for experimenting, he wanted to put together ingredients that made sense, he couldn’t take anymore surprises.

You had been watching him silently from the doorway for a few minutes, trying to think of what you could possibly say to him after what you had done.

Feeling someone’s presence, he turned to see who it was. He shook his head and scoffed humorlessly seeing it was you, turning back to his potions.

I deserved that welcome. “I -” You began but stopped short, not knowing how to continue.

He took a step back from his potion brew, resting his hands on the table, looking at the ground because he wasn’t quite ready to look at you. “I just want to know why. Why would you look me in the eye, promise me you wouldn’t put your name in the running, and then go off and do exactly that behind my back?” His voice was hard, his words direct.

You had never heard him be this stern with you. You didn’t think you’d ever heard him this stern with anyone. Way to go, you’ve managed to make the most fun loving, easy going person you know livid. “There’s no good excuse, Gar.”

“Don’t.” He said through gritted teeth. “You are not allowed to call me that.”

Your heart broke, but you knew you brought this on yourself.

He took a steadying breath, trying to push down his temper. “Either tell me why you did it or leave me alone.” His tone sounded like he was already done with you.

You nodded your head, quickly trying to find the words. “I… Natty put her name in.”

Garreth squeezed his eyes shut. He had heard Natty throwing the idea of entering around but he hadn’t realized she’d actually done it. If he had found out before you did, he would have done everything in his power to keep it hidden from you. Although, he didn’t know how successful he’d be when Natty was your best friend. “If she wanted to compete, that's her choice.”

“And this is mine. I’m not letting anything happen to her.”

He stood up straight then, looking at nothing in particular. He shouldn’t have expected anything different. You were the most capable person to compete for Hogwarts, and the only one in ages able to wield ancient magic, you both knew if you entered your name you’d get chosen. He had begged you to promise him you wouldn’t put your name in. But of course, it still ended up like this.

All it would take was one misstep, and you’d be taken from him forever. The thought had brought back the sickening feeling he had earlier. Wishing he had felt numb still, he sighed and rubbed at his brows with his thumb and forefinger. “Why do you have to be the hero every bloody time?” He grumbled, just loud enough for you to hear.

You looked down, feeling horrible seeing him this way. It was a new low knowing you had caused it. Garreth was always bright and full of good humor, and your betrayal seemed to wash that all away like it never existed. “I’m so sorry. I never… never wanted to hurt you.”

He finally turned your way and looked over you solemnly for a moment. You held his gaze as he walked up and cupped your cheek. “I just had to go after you, didn’t I? Why couldn’t I have gone after someone dull? Why’d it have to be you?” He gave a small shake of his head as he mused to himself. “It’s cruel being in love with you.”

It hit you then that you could lose him over this. “I know.” You whispered.

With a disappointed sigh, he released you and went back to his potions station. “You can go now.” He said with no emotion, as if he were dismissing you.

You stared after him a moment longer, then took your leave.

He poured some of the wiggenweld potion he brewed into a flask. Just as he was about to cap it, rage coursed through him and he threw the flask against the wall.

He wasn’t planning on attending any of your challenges, but he found he couldn’t keep away. He needed to keep an eye on you or he’d feel worse than he already did. He remained near the back of the audience, pacing back and forth, anxiously running his hand through his hair throughout the whole thing. The sick, nervous feeling never dissipated, he could have sworn the sensation was burning a hole through his insides.

He nearly collapsed when the challenge was over, breathing easier with so much relief washing over him. He ran down to the champions’ tent to wait for you to leave. He called your name as you walked out and you quickly turned in the direction of his voice, eyes wide that he had not only shown up, but approached you first.

He closed the distance between you two and pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You wrapped your arms back around him, nearly crying at the collision.

He pulled back just enough to cup your cheek and look over your features. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” His stomach dropped seeing all the gashes and bruises on your face.

“I’m fine.” You tried to reassure him, but his eyes darting all over you told you your words hadn’t done much reassuring.

He took your hand in his and pulled you urgently along with him. “I’m getting you to the hospital wing, and I’m going to make you some wiggenweld potions.” He stopped briefly to look you dead in the eye, no nonsense. “And you’re going to drink every single one I put in front of you.” He turned and began tugging you along again.

You smiled to yourself, not daring to disagree with him. “Yes, sir.”

On your way to the hospital wing, you walked by the wall where the Room of Requirement would be. It never showed up when you were with someone else, but that day it did. Garreth slowed to a stop, furrowing his brows as he watched the door form before him.

“What’s happening?”

“It’s the Room of Requirement. Looks like it believes we both need it now.” You tugged him in with you and his eyes went wide at it all before him.

“You’ve had all this to yourself since fifth year?” He was in awe, how could you ever want to leave this place? As his eyes explored the room, they landed back on you, and he remembered in a panic what he was originally doing. “Sit down.” He commanded. He turned and scanned the room for your potions station. Spotting it, he strode up and began on some wiggenwelds. While those took a moment to brew, he looked around for some bandages, anything to patch you up with.

“Right here.” You held them up as you sat on the couch and began working them onto yourself.

He snatched them from you, sat down, and started doing it for you. You watched him as he fixated on your scrapes and bumps. Being this close again, you wanted to kiss his freckles more than ever before. He had been avoiding you since you last spoke, you were convinced you had lost him. You probably had and this was only a moment of weakness on his part.

“I love you.” You found yourself saying. “I’d do anything for you, I hope you still know that.”

He seemed unphased by your words as he continued cleaning you up. “You’d do anything but keep your name out of a burning goblet, it seems.”

You closed your eyes and sighed through your nose. He had you there.

He stopped his movements suddenly and shifted away from you, sighing himself and leaning his elbows on his knees. “You broke my heart, you know.”

Tears stung at your eyes. But you refused to let them fall, you weren’t the victim here. All you could do was nod your head even though he wasn’t looking at you.

“You promised me you wouldn’t put your name in that damned goblet.” His voice was strained. He went silent for a moment, taking a steadying breath. “You got me thinking about life outside of Hogwarts.” He began again. “It’s only going to get worse once we leave here and we’re out there. You’re going to put yourself in worse and worse situations for others.” He rubbed his hand down his face roughly at the thought and let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to bear it.”

You sat up straight, trying to keep your composure as your nerves went into a stomach-turning frenzy. You knew what he was getting at.

“I don’t want to be in love with you… I don’t.” He admitted. He looked up to the potion pots and saw the wiggenwelds were done. He stood to his feet to grab them and bring them over. He knelt before you, holding up one of the flasks. “You’re to drink all three of these.” He looked up at you with a face of you don’t have a say, drink it.

You took the first one from him, downing it, then did the same for the following two. Once you finished he got up and discarded the flasks. He returned to your side on the couch and took your hand in his. He looked down at it in his lap, tracing shapes on your skin lightly with his thumb. “What I do know is that being apart from you feels so much worse. Now that… that I know I can’t bear.” He looked at you then, his face told you he was upset with himself for feeling this way, for choosing to stay by your side.

You had caused this. You had done him wrong. And he was right, things were going to get worse after Hogwarts. You really were a cruel one to love.

“I don’t know how long I'll be furious with you, but I’m thinking it’ll be a while.” He let himself get lost in your eyes for a moment. “Glad you’re okay at least.” He released your hand and got up to leave.

You were going to let him go, but you stood to your feet and stormed after him. You grabbed at him to face you and then crashed your lips onto his. You cupped his face and he shot his hands to your waist, his fingers digging deep into your sides.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes narrowed at you and he exhaled, frustrated. He was beyond exasperated with you, but he still craved you like no other. Furrowing his brows, he returned his lips to yours, moving his mouth against yours to satiate said craving. His hands slid up your back as he wrapped his arms around you.

He hadn’t realized how starved he was for your taste until he had you there in his arms again. He licked at your bottom lip, wanting to get more of you, and you gladly granted him access. Anything he wanted, you’d give it to him. He could feel your compliance, and he was tempted to see just how sorry you were.

But his hands slowly moved up to yours and removed them from his face. He tore his lips from yours and looked over your flushed features, wanting more but not allowing himself more, then he released you. “Nice try.” He turned and made his way out. “Stay sweet and I might let you call me ‘Gar’ again.” He called over his shoulder.

Ominis:

“You what?!” Ominis was fuming now, you had seen him angry with you before, but never like this.

“I thought,” You exhaled in frustration, “I thought it would help your family approve of me.”

“My family should be none of your concern!”

“I’m not a pure-blood, Ominis, you know they would never approve of me. Being the Hogwarts Champion has to mean something. If they ever find out we’re together, they’d arrange a marriage for you like that.” You said with a snap of your fingers. “This tournament could help prove my worth.”

He shook his head, pacing back and forth. “And you’d think I’d just roll over and let that happen?! This was not the answer, I’ll never understand why you thought it was.”

“There’s no need to get this upset. I might not even get picked anyway.”

His pacing came to a sudden halt, his eyebrows shot up in incredulity. “Is that supposed to be a joke? Of course your name’s going to get picked!” His fury turned into something with a bit more worry then. “I can’t help you when you're out there, you’re going to have to do all those challenges on your own.”

“Whatever they throw at me, I’ll be able to handle it. I’m sure I’ve already survived through worse than what they’re planning.”

“That’s just it! You had no control over everything that’s happened and you survived through it! This? You’re actively seeking out danger now, it’s pointless! When did you become so dim-witted as to not see that?!” Ominis regretted his words immediately, desperately wanting to take them back but unable to do so.

You were stunned for a moment he had actually spoken to you in such a way. A petty smile formed on your face. “Seems we’re done here.”

Ominis called your name in a panic as he heard you storm out of the undercroft, but you ignored him. He dug around frantically in his pocket for his wand, holding it up and having it guide him to follow where you had gone. He knew his wand didn’t work as a tracker, but he had the slightest bit of hope that if it sensed how much he needed to get to you it might help him out. But no such luck.

It had been a week since you and Ominis fought and the dreaded day had finally arrived to announce the TriWizard tournament champions. Every now and then his wand would sense you were in the same room as him, but he didn’t need his wand to be able to tell you were keeping your distance.

How could I have spoken to you the way I had? Every time he thought back to it, he wanted to ask Sebastian to punch him, just bash his face right in.

Even though Ominis knew it was coming, he was still hit with an overwhelming sense of dread when Headmaster Black announced your name. He didn’t clap with everyone else and he hoped you noticed.

He left the Great Hall with everyone else and his wand sensed Poppy was near him. An idea instantly formed in his head. “Excuse me, Poppy?”

Poppy turned her head in surprise hearing Ominis call to her. “Y - Yes, Ominis?”

It was a relief hearing your best friend’s voice still sound so friendly to him. You must not have told anyone about how he spoke to you, which only made him feel worse. He was the villain here. “I need your help with something.”

He was leaning against a tree in the woods behind the beasts class stables, hands in his pockets and tapping his foot anxiously. He heard your footsteps crunching the leaves on your way over.

“Poppy? Poppy, I’m here with the feed, what’s happened to High Wing?” You asked in a panic. When Poppy didn’t respond, you looked up from the feed in your arms and Ominis stepped forward.

You groaned and turned on your heel to leave.

“Please - just wait -”

“Want to insult me some more, do you?” You snipped without looking back at him.

“I’m going to have my family speak to Headmaster Black.” Ominis blurted, and you froze. “They’ll get you out of the games.”

He could hear you drop the feed to the ground. “Don’t you dare.” A chill went down his spine at your warning tone but he stood his ground.

“You don’t have a say in the matter. You’re not competing.”

He could hear you stomp up to him, could feel your presence, and you were close. His breath hitched when he realized you were close enough for him to feel your breath against his skin. It had hit him all at once how he hadn’t been able to touch you for a week, and he didn’t know if he was able to keep himself from closing the distance between you two right then and there.

“Back off, Gaunt. How about you sit down and shut up while I show this entire valley what this ‘dim-wit’ can do?”

Ominis’ lips parted slightly. Oh...

He fisted the fabric of your shirt and shot his lips in the direction of where he felt your breath and heard your voice. It was all too perfect getting your lips on the first try, especially with you having riled him up, speaking to him as you had.

He nipped at your lip and it drew the softest of moans from you, but he caught it. He always heard every little noise he could get out of you. Your hands went up and ran through his hair, you had missed him too, he could tell. Remembering where the tree he was leaning against was, he walked you back until you were pressed against it.

He released your shirt and brought his hands to your waist. His kisses turned less ravenous and more apologetic. He slowed and deepened his mouth movements. “I’m sorry.” He whispered against your lips. “I’m so sorry. I had no right speaking to you that way.” He said in between kisses. “There’s no excuse. I’ll do everything in my power to make it up to you.”

“Ominis, stop talking.” You sighed, greedily taking his lips again. Though his body weight was against you, keeping you trapped between him and the tree, he was the compliant one.

Ominis pulled back, as much as he wanted to keep connected to you, you two had unfinished business. “I won’t go to my family… if it’s what you really want.” Ominis said, still a bit breathless from your kiss. “Just… don’t do it for them, I beg of you. They aren't worth it.” Ominis leaned forward to kiss at your neck tenderly as he waited for your answer.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. “It’s what I want. If not me, then who?”

His mouth on your neck stilled. As much as he hated to agree with you on this, he did. If he sent his family to speak with Headmaster Black to have another student take your place, he’d practically be sending that student to their death. You were the most capable person he had ever known, and you didn’t even need dark magic to accomplish all that you had. If anyone was going to survive this thing, it was you.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a loving embrace. He nuzzled his face into your neck and took in your scent, reveling in this moment you had together. He thought he had ruined everything after your fight.

More than anything, he wanted to go back in time and do everything he could to stop you from ever entering your name into that Goblet. But in the end, it was always your choice, not his.

The days leading up to your first challenge, Ominis kept close to your side, constantly asking you questions on how prepared you were.

“Did you brew enough wiggenweld potions? How about we start on some thunderbrews for you as well?”

“I know how effective the chomping cabbages are, but let’s get some mandrakes and venomous tentaculas grown to be on the safe side.”

“Were you able to put that enchantment I showed you on your competition robes?”

The day of the challenge, he was able to keep his composure, but only because you asked him to. You were anxious as well, and him being sick with worry for you would only add to the frenzy of nerves within you.

He asked Sebastian to narrate everything that was happening while you were out there. Hearing Sebastian’s depiction and the blasting sounds of spells from the arena unraveled his calm exterior more and more by the second. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, leg bouncing up and down rapidly. He didn’t know how he was going to have to sit through two more of these.

Use the Unforgivables if you have to, I don’t care. He found himself thinking. Whatever it takes, just come back to me.

The sound of the crowd cheering and the feel of Sebastian roughly patting his back in excitement told him you had completed the first challenge. He immediately stood to his feet and took out his wand, his legs were jelly but he pushed through and went straight for the champions’ tent. As soon as he arrived you had run up and thrown your arms around him.

He didn’t hesitate to drop his wand to the ground and wrap his arms around you. He closed his eyes, holding you so close to him he had started to lift you off the ground a bit. He was beyond thankful to every little thing in the universe that aligned to help him get back to you.

“If you still believe my family would be able to tear me from you, you might actually be a dim-wit.”

He could feel you chuckle against him. “I’d like to see them try after what I just accomplished back there.”

Sebastian:

Sebastian had let his emotions get the better of him again. It was his fault you had been avoiding him for days now, and he couldn’t bear it any longer. He tried giving you your space but he needed to at least let you know how sorry he was. As soon as the TriWizard champions announcement ceremony was over, he’d find you and apologize. He needed to be better, he knew that.

But then your name was called.

Wait, that can’t be right. You didn’t even put your name in so how…? His breathing grew a bit heavier. No, no Professor Black read the wrong name. You told each other everything. And he specifically had you promise him you wouldn’t enter.

He watched for your features to see if you were just as confused as he was, but you weren’t. You were smiling, happily receiving congratulatory pats on the back as you walked up to stand with the champions already chosen, not glancing his way once.

He mentally willed you to look his way as you stood up there. Give me something, give me anything. Tell me with your eyes why you did this. But no use, you were up there looking as if you had no reason not to be.

When everyone was dismissed he stayed back a bit, wanting to go up to you. But you and the other champions were escorted away to discuss what was to be expected going into this tournament.

Sebastian waited outside the Great Hall until you were done. Once he saw you walking out, he pushed up off the wall he was leaning against and came up behind you, calling your name.

“Did you enter because of me? Is this my fault?”

You stopped in place, taking a moment to turn and face him. You had some trouble meeting his gaze. “You weren’t the main reason, but I’d be lying if I said you weren’t a part of it.”

“Then why? Why else would you do this?”

You looked over his dispirited features in silence for a moment. “Since the moment I arrived at Hogwarts, I felt as if I’ve been running around taking care of everyone else. And after our last fight, I… I don’t know. Something in me snapped, Sebastian. Putting my name in that Goblet, it -” You exhaled, feeling like he wouldn’t understand but you decided to tell him anyway, “it was the first time I felt like I was doing something for me.”

Sebastian looked down, it seemed you didn’t tell each other everything like he once believed. How could he have not known you felt this way? He was the one seeing you and he didn’t even realize something had been off with you.

“I know I made a promise not to do it. And for breaking that promise, I apologize. But… I don’t regret doing it.” You were ashamed at the admission, but you wanted him to know.

He realized it then when he met your gaze, he had lost you. You had been slipping away from him for a while, and he had been so blinded by his own issues he hadn’t noticed until it was too late.

A nasty, stomach turning feeling hit him all at once. “Is this… Are you ending things between us?”

His heart constricted painfully when you didn’t answer him right away, didn’t reassure him that he had it all wrong and you would never part from him. You were looking at him like you knew the next thing you were about to say would make him feel terrible.

“Sebastian, I’ll always be around to help you with Anne -”

He huffed in disbelief and turned on his heel to get out of there, as far away from you as possible. He didn’t want to hear you finish that sentence, how you had started it had already broken him enough.

He fell back onto his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes. He couldn’t stop the tears from stinging at them but he could sure as hell keep them from falling. It hurt more thinking back to the conversation and realizing that not once had you called him ‘Seb’ like you normally did. How long has it been since you had? Even more indication of how far you had drifted away. How did this happen?

When was the last time you asked him to help you with anything? There were a few times in fifth year you had asked for his help getting the triptychs, but those outings had benefited him as well in trying to get a cure for Anne. Was there ever a time he had helped you with anything that was purely for you? He was disgusted with himself, not being able to name a single time. No wonder he lost you.

And now you were going to compete in a tournament famous for being so dangerous, it was common for the participants to die. Throwing yourself into jeopardy like this, you hadn’t asked for his help. No. You had banished him from your side. How could you expect him to keep his distance in circumstances such as these?

The tears were overflowing, escaping out of his shut eyelids and he pressed his arm over them tighter. Just come back. I need you back. I’ll be better, I promise.

Ominis had advised Sebastian to give you your space, if you wanted his help you would ask for it. But all these horrifying scenarios kept popping up in his head, scenarios where you die and he could have done something to prevent it. He didn’t care if you ignored him, didn’t care if you hated him, as long as you were alive, you could feel however you damn well pleased about him.

He had scoured the library for any enchantment you could put on your competition robes, any herbology methods to make your carnivorous plants more vicious, anything to make your potions more effective.

He lost sleep over it, he didn’t mind. He’d much rather sneak into the restricted section late at night than face those nightmares of your corpse he’d been having the past week. Once he felt he had enough notes written out of all these things that could help you, he decided to find you.

He waited for you to come outside of the Room of Requirement with a notebook of everything he had researched for you. It was late but there was still a good amount of time before curfew. As the halls were getting darker and emptier, he sat on the ground, head back against the wall until you came out.

He startled a bit when the door finally formed. He sprang to his feet and straightened out his clothes as he watched you walk out. Your eyes met his and it pained him that you looked uneasy to see him.

“I um -” He cleared his throat, a bit unsure of himself now that he had your full attention. “I have something for you.” He held out the notebook to you.

You glanced down at it in his hands, then eyed him as you took it. “What’s this?”

Sebastian moved himself to your side, looking over your shoulder, opening the notebook as you held it in your hand and gave as brief an explanation as he could. He pointed out where you could find the herbology notes, the enchantment notes, and the potion notes. As he explained, your eyes drifted gradually up from the notebook to his face.

After a moment, he noticed you looking at him and not the notebook. “What?”

“Nothing.” You looked back down at the notebook. “Thank you for this.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything and stayed where he was next to you. You looked back up at him, wondering if there was something else he wanted. He hadn’t been this close to you for weeks. He missed your scent, your warmth, your lips being this close to his. He wanted to claim them again, but he knew he couldn’t. You weren’t his anymore.

Rather than pulling you close, he kept his hands to himself and gave a single nod of his head to you. Then he turned on his heel and left.

You watched him walk away in silence. You were expecting him to ask for something in return, help with some cave that had some book that mentioned some untapped magic. Just like he had always done. But he had just given you the notebook and left it at that.

Where was this Sebastian before? Truth be told, you always felt like he could walk out on you at any moment. Especially if he ever felt like he no longer had a need for your ancient magic, there were many nights you’d be up wondering if that was the only reason he was with you. This along with the way he would snap at you whenever he was frustrated, taking it out on you. He had gotten better about it since fifth year, but it still occurred.

Whether he was doing this to get you or your ancient magic back, only time would tell.

The day of your first challenge arrived, and Sebastian hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep the night before. He debated not turning up at all, but the idea had made him feel nauseous. He needed to stay close to you throughout this whole thing.

Whether or not he actually watched was still up in the air. He stood behind one of the wooden beams in the audience stands, arms crossed over his chest tightly in hopes of keeping himself from throwing up. When it was announced you were up next, he squeezed his eyes shut and the blood drained from his face. This could be it, these could be your last few moments alive. He could hear you start the challenge below and sweat began to form on his forehead.

“Sebastian, you've got to see this!” Lucan Brattleby shouted to him over the crowd’s cheers.

Sebastian’s head snapped his direction, and he noticed the crowd’s faces. They weren’t biting their nails or covering their eyes in horror, they were ecstatic, brows raised and eyes wide in awe. Sebastian came out from behind the pillar and looked down into the arena below.

A rousing sensation coursed through him as he watched you. You’re glorious. He always knew you were capable and talented. He’d caught glimpses of your skill with a wand when you competed in Crossed Wands or fought side by side on your outings together. But he had never just… watched you. His worry for you in this tournament was fizzling away the more he witnessed you practically dance through this challenge in the arena below. Your footwork was clean, your defensive reflexes quick, and your offensive casts brutal.

He could watch you do this all day.

When the challenge ended, you had placed first with a sweeping victory. He couldn’t help it, he wanted to run to you and congratulate you, tell you how amazing you were himself. Even if you only gave him a fleeting glance, even if you ignored him.

His nerves went into a frenzy seeing you come out of the tent. You had spotted him right away, and you seemed genuinely pleased to see him. He was taken aback and thought his heart would burst out of his chest.

You made your way up to him and he stuttered trying to get his words out. “I - I just wanted to come by and tell you -”

“Come here.” He was silenced when you grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He was stunned but quickly shook himself out of it, wrapping his arms around you to keep you on him like this.

You were in complete control of this kiss, and Sebastian had no complaints. Your hands moved to cup his jaw, holding him in a way that you could move his head so his mouth was right where you wanted it at all times. His heart was racing in anticipation while yours raced with adrenaline. His body was turning into a furnace for you. He knew this wasn’t a makeup kiss, this was a passionate, emotions are high kind of kiss. But he’d give it to you all the same, anything you wanted, it was yours.

You had never felt so on top of the world in your life. The sound of the crowd cheering you on so loudly the arena began to shake, completing the first challenge like it was nothing, and taking charge of Sebastian Sallow’s lips, it was all unbelievably intoxicating.

“Thank you.” You said breathily, breaking from him. “For that notebook, it helped more than you know, thank you.”

“It’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me.” He shook his head, then placed his forehead on yours. “You deserve so much more.”

You stroked his cheek with your thumb, taking in his freckles, soaking in this short moment where you two were close again.

“Can you see yourself coming back to me?” He found himself asking.

You took a moment to answer as you kept your hold on each other. “I don’t know… I still love you. I think I always will. But -” You thought on your words carefully and Sebastian stiffened, tightening his hold on you, afraid of letting you slip away again. “I don’t know if I have anything more to give.”

“I’m not asking you to give anything.” He said quickly, voice just above a whisper. “I don’t care if you never help me with finding a cure again. Just… Please, don’t tear yourself away from me.”

You looked into his eyes, not wanting to break this moment, unsure of what was supposed to happen next. “I need more time.”

He closed his eyes briefly at that answer, then gave a small nod. It wasn’t what he wanted you to say, but there was still hope in it. He’d wait, as long as it took. And he’d continue helping you in this tournament whether you liked it or not.

#sebastian sallow imagine #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow fanfiction #garreth weasley x you #garreth weasley imagine #garreth weasley fanficiton #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt fanficiton #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you

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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

Text

I’m Never Drinking Again

Part 2 to “I Have a Girlfriend”

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x female!reader

TW: swearing, mentions of drunk chaos and a hangover

Summary: You and Bradley deal with the aftermath of a night out at the Hard Deck.

Word Count: 1.7k

The next morning you're sitting in the living room freshly showered with an iced coffee when you hear a loud groan come from the bedroom. You lift your eyes up from your phone and your lips quirk up slightly. It's almost 10 am and it seems Bradley has finally risen from the dead. You went about your morning as usual, leaving him to his alcohol-induced slumber.

A few minutes go by and you finally see Bradley stumble groggily into the living room and lean against the wall with his eyes closed. You choke down a laugh at his disheveled appearance. He's standing in nothing but boxers and socks, drool dried on the side of his face and curls messily sticking up.

"Good morning sleeping beauty. Glad to see you survived." You quip and Bradley lets out a noise resembling that of a wounded animal. "Did you get the painkillers and Gatorade I left on your nightstand?"

He slowly shuffles over to the couch where you're sitting, feet never fully leaving the floor, and plops down. "Yes, thank you." He says with his eyes closed and head resting on your shoulder. You nod even though he can't see you and take a sip of your drink. Your nose crinkles when you smell him and you shove him off of you.

"Go brush your teeth and shower. You reek." You tell him while pretending to gag. He opens his eyes at the sudden movement and pouts at you with crossed arms. "I do not." His voice is whiny like a toddler who didn't get their way and you roll your eyes.

"Yes, you do Roo. You're practically sweating vodka and your breath smells like a dead raccoon covered in skunk spray. I love you but please for the love of god, go clean yourself up." Your voice is teasing but he can see on your face that you're serious.

He stands up and huffs, heading toward the bathroom without any more protest. Twenty minutes later, you hear the water shut off and Bradley walks out with a fresh pair of boxers slung low on his hips and he's drying his hair with a towel.

He watches your eyes rake slowly over his form and smirks. "Hey, where the hell did these bruises come from?" He asks while showing you some dark purple welts on his arm and leg.

"Not sure. You fell out of the bed last night and had a hell of a time getting back up. Maybe you landed harder than I thought." You say with a shrug and he grunts. "Maybe."

"Other than that, how are you feeling?" You question and Bradley lets out a pained moan. "A little better since showering but still like shit. My head feels like there's a construction crew inside and my stomach is in knots."

You nod your head and turn your attention back to mindlessly scrolling. Bradley goes off to get dressed and comes back a few minutes later wearing a navy t-shirt and gray sweats. You check the clock and stand when you see it's almost 11. Bradley looks up at you with a confused expression and you laugh.

"We're meeting everybody for brunch. There's nothing quite like greasy breakfast food to cure a hangover." You explain and Bradley sighs. "Not to be rude, but I'd rather swallow a cactus." Just the idea of eating right now makes his stomach lurch and he suppresses a gag.

You shake your head and grab his hand to pull him up. "We both know the only way out is through. You'll only feel worse if you're hungry."

He stands next to you begrudgingly and grabs his aviators off the coffee table, slipping them onto his face. "Fine, but I'm going to complain about it the whole time." You roll your eyes playfully and grab the keys to his bronco. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

You climb in the driver's side and Bradley doesn't protest. You're the only other person allowed to drive his baby and quite frankly, he's pretty sure being behind the wheel right now would make his head spin.

You take your time driving to the small diner you frequent after nights out. A few minutes later you're pulling into a parking spot and you wave at the group standing outside waiting for you.

Bradley clambers out of the truck and takes his sweet time making his way over to his fellow pilots. Jake claps Bradley on the shoulder and he winces slightly. "How come she's allowed to drive that fossil but I'm not?" He complains and Bradley's voice is still hoarse when he answers. "Because you drive the same way you fly and I trust her more."

Jake doesn't let the comment bother him, instead, he just laughs and nods his head. "You know I like to go fast." He quips with a wink and Phoenix scoffs.

"I'm sure you do a lot of things fast." She mocks and you cackle at the implication. The two of them seem significantly better off than your boyfriend and you wonder if they were as drunk as they acted last night.

The thought doesn't linger for long as Maverick interrupts the banter. "Okay kids, that's enough. Let's get inside, Bradley looks like he's thirty seconds from sitting on the pavement." You glance over at your boyfriend and sure enough, he's wobbling on his feet.

Ten minutes later you're all sitting around a table ordering drinks and looking over the menu. Bradley is wearing his sunglasses inside and despite the shower, he still looks like a hangover personified. Jake takes a moment to really look at the man and shakes his head.

"You look like shit, Chicken." Bradley doesn't even bother looking up when he responds. "Fuck off, Bagman." Everybody laughs at the enemies-turned-friends before going back to their own conversations.

The waitress comes to take everyone's order and Bob suddenly speaks while you're all waiting for your food. "Here's your hard-earned money." He teases while handing Bradley a wad of cash.

You see his eyes dart between the money and Bob trying to sort out what the hell he's talking about and your hand flies up to cover your mouth. You look at Maverick and see the older man holding back a laugh of his own. It would seem Bradley doesn't remember much of last night.

"What the hell is this from?" He asks and you see Jake break out in a shit-eating grin. You know he's thrilled when he realizes he gets to fill Bradley in on the events from the night before. "Your show." He tells him and you can hear the giddiness in his voice.

Bradley's eyebrows only furrow deeper and he looks at you. "What show?" You can see Jake practically bouncing in his seat with excitement and grin.

"Your little performance on the bartop, Roos. Seems you cleaned up pretty well." You tell him and Jake looks like he's going to explode when realization dawns on Bradley.

"You're fucking with me." He says matter of factly and you shake your head. Before you can respond, Jake pulls out his phone and holds it up. "Nope." He says, making sure to pop the p. "Got the blackmail evidence right here."

Bradley's eyes are saucers and he snatches the phone out of the blonde pilot's hand. Sure enough, there's a video of him dancing up on the bar with money raining down.

His heart races as he watches himself reach for the button of his jeans and he wonders if he's even allowed back at the Hard Deck. Right before he loses the last of his dignity, he sees you appear on the phone.

He breathes a sigh of relief when you jump up on a bar stool and yank him down. He hears boos from the crowd and the video cuts off. He hands the phone back to Jake and drops his head into his hand. "What else happened?"

"Some girl hit on you." Maverick says casually and Bradley's head jerks up to look at the man. His heart leaps into his throat at the tone and insinuation. What did he do? He loves you more than anything, you're his entire world. He feels bile rise at the idea he may have blacked out and fucked that all up. He would never do that, no matter how drunk he is. Would he?

You watch the panic rise in Bradley and punch Mav in the shoulder before turning to your boyfriend. " You thought some girl hit on you and almost pulled a muscle trying to get away from her. I was standing three feet in front of you the entire time. You were so drunk you didn't recognize me." You explain and you see Bradley physically deflate with relief.

" You wouldn't even let me near you or drink the water I gave you. The first thing you did was reject me and show me a picture of your girlfriend. Then you called me and told me you missed me." You say with a fond smile. You hear Phoenix aww and Jake gags before you continue.

"It was actually really cute to see how excited you got just talking to me. You were like a little kid on Christmas morning." You recall sweetly and Bradley grabs your hand under the table. You smile at him and the interaction is cut short by food being placed on the table.

You spend the next hour eating and laughing while recounting the chaos from last night. Bradley slowly starts to warm up as the food and meds kick in and before you know it, he's back to his usual self.

Everyone pays their bills and says their goodbyes and the two of you head toward his bronco. He sticks his hand out and you toss him his keys. He unlocks the truck and opens the door for you before rounding to the driver's side.

All the windows are down and you take in the warm San Diego breeze as it whips through your hair. Bradley rests his large hand on your thigh and you look over at him through the matching Ray Bans he bought you. "I love drunk Roos." You jest and he glances over at you for a split second.

"Well don't get your hopes up. I'm never fucking drinking again." He smiles and you laugh loudly with your head thrown back. "That's what you always say."

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#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #Bradley Bradshaw topgun #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun

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itsscromp · 3 months

Text

Home, a place where I can go

To celebrate the reboot of my blog. I have decided to give you all the fluffiest of fluff by the best dad in gaming history. This spin-off idea (which I will call what if's) is courtesy of me and @callofdudes y'all are gonna love it !! What if Simon ran away from home and Price ended up adopting him and years later a young y/n too ?? Warnings: Mentions of abuse and potential inaccuracies (Please let me know if there are any) Word count:4.6K

Simon Riley 'Age 10' has had a hard life, He hated coming home to the endless cycle of abuse from his father, and after the latest incident, he's had enough. Forming a plan two weeks ago to leave, he began to act on it, when he came back from school, he rushed upstairs and grabbed his backpack with his clothes and such. But when he returned downstairs, look who was there to greet him...

"And where the fuck do you think your going mate !!??" Simon could smell the alcohol in his breath. "Leaving..." He said quietly.

"You wouldn't even survive 5 hours on the streets..." He then slowly walked over, If Simon didn't leave soon, he knew what would happen next, So without hesitation he bolted for the door, dodging his dad's arms and heading outside, running as fast as he could. "I'll find you soon Simon!!!!" His dad yelled. But Simon didn't care, he was now free... he was free.

He ran until he couldn't no more, crashing under a nearby bridge, it was cold but it was shaded, away from the rain. He sighed out in relief at the fact he was out and away... from him. He pulled his blanket out from his backpack and wrapped it around him to keep himself safe and warm.

The following afternoon, Simon stayed right under the bridge but he only had a jam sandwich and a couple of snacks on him, he knew that alone wasn't going to last. He watched all the cars drive by from above, making a game for himself to count the cars with the same colours. But then... He noticed one car stopping nearby. His instincts kicking back in... The car looked like his dad's car, So he quickly packed his blanket in his backpack as fast as he could before he could have the chance.

"Woah woah woah... It's ok..." But the person that got out of the car wasn't his dad... it was a young man... In a bright polo shirt. "It's ok... I'm not here to hurt you"

Simon opened his mouth, wanting to scream at him, tell him he was not going with him, not going back to him. But he remained quiet, almost utterly frozen in fear. The young man slowly moved forward with almost a kind smile.

"My name is A/n, I'm from the *adoption agency name* It's ok..." He made it to Simon, showing he wasn't a threat. But the instincts were still on fire inside Simon. No one could be trusted at this point. "Please... it's too cold and dangerous to be out here for someone your age." He offered his hand to Simon.

Simon hesitated greatly, He didn't want to go anywhere, the what-ifs clouded his mind as to think this could be a trap. But a part of his mind was screaming safety very softly, He was right. It was very cold, He didn't have any food and he'd be in danger the longer he stayed out. So slowly and hesitantly, he took A/n's hand. To which he smiled and slowly went back to the car with him, Nice and warm as Simon hopped in.

They soon arrived at the agency where A/n showed him a spare room. "Are you hungry ??" He asked Simon, to which the loud growling of his stomach gave the answer away. "I'll be right back ok ??" He smiled and went to find him some food.

Simon sat down on the bed, soft and comfortable. But his guard was still up, again what if this was a trap. He wasn't used to this amount of kindness before. A/n soon came back with a plate of fresh hot food and handed it to Simon. He ate the food as A/n sat down next to him. "Can you tell me your name ??" He asked. But Simon froze... If he told him, would he know who he is ?? He sat there for a little while trying to fight his own thoughts in his head. "It's ok... take your time" A/n gently reassured him. After a bit he finally and quietly said. "Simon"

3.5 months later

While there, Simon was still a little quiet, but he opened up a small bit, telling A/n he doesn't want to go back home, and how he's scared to go back home, telling him about some of the stuff his dad does... to him. Which immediately concerned him, So he reassured him that he would find a safe space for him when the time came... and it may have arrived.

John Price always dreamed of being a dad, To show one child all the love and affection he had in him. But military life had been straining that dream tight, So he decided to act on that dream now rather than wait, he went to multiple adoption agencies nearby, But the suitable matches weren't going anywhere in London. So he broadened his expansion to Manchester.

A/n was busy filling out some paperwork when he saw Price walk in. "Oh hello sir, How can I help you ??" He smiled at him. "Hi, I was looking into adopting if that's ok ??" He asked him.

"Oh that's wonderful, Come, have a seat" He and Price began the formal interview, Price really didn't want to get his hopes up during the whole thing. But then... "I do think we may have a child who would love your company" He smiled and passed him a file. Price opened it to reveal the file of a child named Simon Riley, As he read it, He couldn't help but feel very sad. This poor kiddo, he just wanted to wrap him in the softest blanket and make him a nice hot cocoa. "Would you like to meet him ??" A/n offered, to which Price nodded. "Of course"

The two then went to his room and A/n knocked on his door. "Simon, may I come in ??" He asked.

"Yes..." He answered.

"Just wait out here" A/n whispered to price as he entered the room. "Hey... How are you feeling ??"

"Ok" He answered bluntly.

"Simon... There's someone I'd like you to meet, He is really interested in adopting you, Isn't that exciting ??" He smiled, but Simon froze up. The fear returned to him. "N...No..." He grew scared.

"Simon, I promise I'll still be here, I'll be in the room ok ??" He gently reassured him. After a bit of convincing. Simon agreed to let Price meet him. "You can come in now" He opened the door a bit and walked back in, Price entered the room saw Simon and smiled. "Hey kiddo" He greeted. "Hi..." Simon said, not making eye contact with price. Price gently walked over and sat next to him, seeing the comic book in Simon's hand. "Bit of a batman fan are we ??" He inspected the cover, Simon nodding. He loved batman with his life.

It was a little quiet before Simon started to make very small talk, It was going smoothly for a little while but Price could see he was still very hesitant. So he asked A/n to meet him outside for a little bit. "I understand if he's a little quiet..." A/n tried to say.

"No, it's not that... Would it be ok if we just did a trial weekend ?? Help him warm up a little bit." He asked him. "Oh... yes yes, of course, Let me run it with him ok ??' He asked and Price nodded. Entering back in the room, A/n sat next to him. "Simon, Could I ask you something ??' He asked, Simon looked at him briefly and nodded slowly. "Mr price really would love to get to know you, He's asked if it's ok with you, Would you like to stay a weekend with him ??"

Simon's eyes went slightly wide, New fears ran all over his head, what if it could happen all over again... No, don't be so stupid, they wouldn't be that stupid... Would they ?? "I understand it sounds very scary, But we promise, just one weekend, If you didn't like it in the end that's ok too"

Simon thought about it for a little while, It was just one weekend and that was it. So... He decided to give it a go. After packing for a weekend, Simon followed Price back to his car and hopped in, beginning the drive. "You comfortable back there kiddo ?? It's gonna be a bit of a drive" Price looked back as Simon nodded to him. Soon beginning the drive to London.

Simon remained quiet for the entirety of the drive, Looking out the window and seeing things roll past him. Price sometimes looked back in the rearview mirror, seeing him. Hopefully, he does a good job. Soon arriving back in London, They made it back to Price's house, The two getting the much-needed stretches in. "Always a good feeling hey ??" Price smiled at him. Simon remained quiet and nodded, Following price to the door as he unlocked it.

He invited Simon inside, Slowly walking in, the first thing he saw was family photos on the wall. It made him feel slightly ill looking at them, Why couldn't he have that ?? He then spotted a TV in the living room and an arrangement of DVDs on a bookshelf. Looking through them, He noticed there were a lot of different types of movies, Back with... him, it was always very violent and scary movies. But with Price, he had a whole different taste. "Come, I'll show you your room." He smiled, leading Simon to the spare bedroom A nice big bed with freshly made sheets. "You look tired, Do you need to rest ??' Price asked. Simon yawned and nodded. "Ok, I'll be downstairs if you need me" Price smiled and gently closed the door.

Simon took off his shoes and crawled into the bed, Gently closing his eyes, Getting the needed rest after a very long drive. A couple hours later, he was awoken by... Some delicious smells. What could they be ??

He got up and crept down the stairs, Seeing Price cook dinner, It looked like... Lasagna... He could also hear Price hum to himself as he was singing something to the tune of the radio. As Price placed the lasagna in the oven, he noticed Simon and smiled, walking over gently. "Hey there kiddo, Sleep ok ??" Simon nodded at the question before saying "I did..."

Price smiled and gently brought his hand to Simon's head, Gently ruffling it. Simon couldn't help but twitch a smile briefly. No one has ever done this... The name of endearment, the physical affection, it was all new to him. "You wanna watch a movie ??" Price offered, Simon slowly nodded and followed Price to the living room. He sat down on the couch and kicked his legs slightly as Price went to the DVD cabinet and picked out a couple of movies, Going back to Simon, he showed him what there was on offer.

Chicken run... prince of Egypt... ... a bug's life... Simon stared at the cases for a little while before ultimately handing 2 back to Price and chose Chicken Run. "That one ??" He nodded. Price smiled, placed the DVDs back, popped the current movie into the player and started the movie, sitting next to Simon. He was intrigued by the premise of the movie, eyes glued to the screen. Price smiled as he saw him watching the movie, Inviting him to snuggle closer... Simon saw it and stared at him for a little bit before looking back at the screen. Maybe not just yet.

Price heard the bell of the oven ding and went over to serve the plates. Coming back to Simon with some cutlery and a tea towel, he offered him the fresh hot plate. "Careful now, It's still a little hot" Price warned Simon. "Thank you..."

Simon stared at his plate for a little bit, It looked... really delicious. "I make a killer lasagna" Price said to him proudly with a wink. Simon soon took the cutlery, cutting into it and taking a bite after blowing on it... Oh... It was... So delicious !!! Price smiled as he saw Simon happily eat his food. Once finished, Simon was a happy fed boy. But then... Another thing he was never asked back then... "Would you like some ice cream ??" He was never allowed to have ice cream after dinner. It was very strange, But he ended up saying... "Yes please"

Price nodded and got up, taking the empty plates with him and soon grabbing two bowls and a spoon, Taking the tub of ice cream out of the freezer, he scooped some up and placed them into the bowls. Handing it back to Simon. "There we go" he smiled as he sat back down.

Simon slowly ate as the movie continued, He felt... Like he was seen, He was being helped... He couldn't control his wobbly lip and the tears in his eyes as he snuggled up to price. This man made him feel... safe. Price noticed and smiled wide, wrapping an arm around Simon as the movie continued. Once it was finished, Price looked at him. "Did you enjoy that kiddo ??" He rubbed his arm gently.

"I... I did... Thank you, Mr Price" he said, snuggling impossibly closer to him. Price smiled and then soon, mischief took over him. Creeping his other arm around him, he then began... The tickle attack !!!, Simon gasped before launching into an array of giggles. Trapped in the clutches of Price's ticklish fingers "My my kiddo, So ticklish you are" He chuckled as he continued to tickle Simon's sides.

In that moment... Simon was home... He felt at home...

4 years later.

Simon *now age 14* has been living with Price for 4 years and their bond became unbreakable. He saw Price as a father figure, and even started calling him dad. Price loved Simon with everything within him. But he had a spare room in the house and more room in his heart for one more.

"Simon, can I talk to you about something ??" He sat down on the couch, inviting Simon.

"Hey Dad, What's up ??" Simon sat down next to him.

"How would you feel... If we opened up our home for one more ??" He smiled softly.

Simon sat there thinking about it, The thought of having... a sibling... That's nerve-wracking for a multitude of reasons... But like Price, he had room in his heart for one more as well. So with that, he agreed.

Price then decided to keep it close to home this time as he then went to the adoption agency in London again. But when he walked into the door, he saw a familiar face. "A/n ??"

A/n looked up and saw him, smiling "John, What a surprise"

Price smiled "What bring's you to London ??"

"Oh, they transferred me to the London Centre, It's been pretty fun. How is Simon doing anyway ??"

"Simon is doing good, He's really settled and I know he's happy." Price smiled wide, His kiddo was everything.

"Oh, that is absolutely amazing to hear"

"It is, I'm really proud of him"

"I'm glad he's doing nicely, So what can I do for you ??" He smiled, inviting price to sit.

"I had a talk with Simon and he's comfortable enough that I think another amazing addition to our house would make us all happy"

A/n nodded, smiling. "Oh wonderful, Ok let's get started then"

So once again the formal interview happened to match Price with a child. And then, they found one. A/n, passed a file to price.

"Y/n l/n" *age 12* Price opened the file and read through it.

"Poor child, Their mother kicked them out of the house and they had no family to go to... We found them on the streets and they've been mostly quiet"

Almost how Simon was found... "Can I talk to them ???" He asked. "Of course"

So they got up and walked to your room, A/n knocking on the door. "Y/n ??, I have someone I'd like you to meet"

"Come in..." You said hesitantly as the door opened.

"Y/n, this is John Price. He wants to meet and talk with you for a bit if that's ok ??"

You looked at him briefly and at Price who greeted you with a kind smile and nodded to you. You slowly nodded, indicating yes. "I'll leave you two be" A/n stepped outside as Price entered the room. "Hey y/n, can I sit ??"

You scooched over slowly, Indicating his invitation to do so. He sat down next to you, But not enough to intrude on your space. Seeing a book in your hand. "You like to read ??"

"Sometimes... depends on what it is" You answered him.

"Do you have a favourite genre ???"

"I like... sci-fi and thrillers"

"Nice, I'm a thriller kinda guy, but sci-fi gets thrown in there too" He smiled

"Oh yeah ??"

"Yeah. Have you ever read Sherlock Holmes?? It's one of my favourite book series"

You sat there thinking for a bit. "Hmmm no, I don't think I have"

"Maybe you'd like it. I think it's pretty good, but maybe you wouldn't that's ok too" He smiled.

You and Price continued to get to know each other for the next hour, You slowly began to open up a fair bit, telling Price about your hobbies and interests, even pulling out your figurine from your backpack. "This is Jason Todd, or red hood, He's from the Batman universe." You showed him.

"Oh wow, that's really cool... Y/n, I have a son back at home, His name is Simon and he is similar to you. If you were to meet him and see if you two got along, would you like that ??"

"I guess so..." You went quiet again... The whole situation was a tad bit daunting. You knew he meant well.

He could see the look on your face... He didn't want to force you into anything "What if I stop by later today or tomorrow so you two can spend some time together, Don't feel too pressured, only if you'd be comfortable."

You nodded gently "Ok..."

"It was lovely to meet you Y/n" He smiled and got up, Heading back home, Simone heard him enter the doorway "How did it go ??" Simone asked, Looking up from the tv.

"It went well, I met a kid named y/n, Would it be ok if I brought you over to meet them, I'd think you too would get along" He smiled softly.

"Yeah..." Simon was a little nervous, would you like him ??, Would they be freaked out by the mask ?? *Simon wears a skull surgical mask* He was very hesitant... But... he believed he was ready to be a sibling again.

Heading back to the centre with Simon in tow, A/n guided them to your room and knocked on the door. "Come in..." You said, Price entered the room first before Simon. "Hey again y/n, I brought my son Simon with me" He smiled. Simon stood behind him, quietly staring at you for a bit before waving a little.

"Hi..." You waved back.

He was a bit hesitant, Seeing if you were ok with his presence at first, But you didn't seem hesitant... so that's a good start. So Price gently turned to Simon, Softly smiling and nodding in the direction, He came over to you and sat next to you.

"Hi"

"Hey" He greeted

"Cool mask"

"Thanks... Most people are kind of freaked out by it"

"Well... I think it's cool"

"Thanks... Dad tells me you like to read ??' He tries to start a conversation with you.

"Yeah." You then showed him the book you were reading. A book called Wonder.

Simon inspected it for a bit, Slowly relaxing and sort of sitting on the edge of the bed. "This looks good"

"It is, I'm liking it so far." Price saw a slight shift in your body language, in a more positve note,

"What's your favourite ??' You asked.

"I'm into horror" He answered.

"Oh yeah ?? What's your favourite ???"

"I like Stephen King, I got to read the shining a couple months ago too"

"Nice, I've always wanted to read Carrie, that looks cool"

"I think I remember liking that one"

Price remained silent, soon slipping away outside to give you two the space you wanted, the atmosphere settled down, and it was comfortable. The two were engaging in a full conversation like you had with Price. It was nice, Simon could see why Price liked you, You were kind, and he didn't think he'd mind you becoming a part of the family, Soon price came back inside.

"How are you kiddo's going ??" He smiled

"Doing good" Y/n answered.

Simon nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we're doing good"

"That's great, I'm glad you two are getting along"

"Simon is really cool" You smiled softly.

Simon smiled as well under the mask. "Y/n is nice and cool as well"

This in turn makes Price smile. "Yeah ??" He then turned to you "Y/n, I know it's a lot all at once, but... If you two talked it out, would you want to come home with us ??"

"Oh..." You went quiet, Simon noticed this too.

"That's ok, It doesn't have to be right away. There's no pressure, I promise"

"Could you give us a minute ??" You asked price, To which he agreed and stepped out and nodded, Simon could see your hesitancy. "You guys are cool... But I don't know..."

Simon gently shifted and scooted over. "I know it's a huge step. But believe me, I was in the same position as you. I was... terrified of going home with John before, But he's really kind and he's given me everything i need and more, I know he wouldn't hesitate to do the same for you."

You continued to think about it... But the thoughts of your mom came back to you... the yelling, the stuff being thrown... You couldn't help but think that if you went back with them... It would happen all over again... "I... I can't... I'm too scared... Of it happening all over again, My mom... She used to do many things... Made me very scared... And I'm scared that if I go with you guys it'll happen all over again." You admitted. "I can't help but think... It'll happen all over again." You looked down at the floor, sad.

Simon hesitated for a bit until he gently placed his hand on your shoulder, softly squeezing it. "Y/n..." He hesitated for a bit, it was still too painful to talk about. "I understand that, I know what that's like, I'll say that much. I've lived with him for 4 years and haven't once thought I wasn't loved, With all the stuff I went through and the damage he had to repair... He just wants to love you and give you what you deserve and need, That's why he's here" He squeezed your shoulder again. "I know, I know how you feel. I was just as scared about that. But he's given me more love than I thought possible"

Listening to that, you started to have a change of heart. Maybe... Simon was right, Maybe Price really wanted to help you. "Ok... I'll give it a chance" You nodded, turning to Simon.

He smiled a little under his mask.

Price then came back inside after a bit. "Have you given it a bit of thought y/n ??"

You nodded. "I'll give you a chance"

With that, Price smiled wide and nodded. Like Simon, you were given a weekend with the two. So you packed your bag, and before you knew it, you were in the car with them heading to their home... Possibly your home too.

You arrive at their house soon after. "Woah..." It was a relatively big house.

"Welcome home" Price smiled, Opening the door for you.

"Thank you" You smiled softly and entered, It was nice and cozy.

"Come on, I'll show you your room" Simon said to you and guided you upstairs, Placing your bag down as you sat down on the bed. "It's nice and comfy hey ??" He smiled softly at you. "Yeah, Where's your room ??"

"This used to be mine, But dad let me use the basement as my room" He said.

Speaking of Price. "The room nice and cozy ??' He asked you.

"It is, Thank you" You nodded.

"I'll get dinner started shortly, you two keep each other company eh ??"

Simon turned to you "Come on, I'll set up my XBOX in the living room" He rushed downstairs, You hightailing. XBOX ?? You liked XBOX.

He then set everything up, sitting down and passing you a controller. "I got halo 2 or sonic heroes" He said to you, showing you the cases. You looked at them for a little bit. Interesting choices, In the end, You ended up with halo 2.

Simon placed the disk in and the game started, soon the two of you were having fun, Price could see you start to warm up more to Simon. It was like the two of you were Immediately best friends. He soon eventually came over to you two. "Dinner will be ready soon kiddos" He smiled, gently squeezing Simon's shoulder and ruffling your hair, to which you giggled. "Hey" You fixed it up. It was the first time Price heard you laugh.

"I think it looks better this way" He smirked, ruffling it again. "Stop" You giggled again.... and soon he slipped his hands under your shoulders, Get em Simon" He smiled. Simon get's your waist and the two start tickling you, Launching you into further giggles and laughs

"Gotcha kiddo" Price chuckled, tickling you harder, making you squeak out your laughs.

"Your just as ticklish as Simon" He smirked as he continued. "So so ticklish you are"

"Stohohoho....Stohohoho..." You said in between laughs.

"They almost had it Dad" Simon looked up at him.

"They did, So close y/n, try again" He smirked.

Happy tears started to emerge from your eyes as you finally got out. "STOHOHOHOHOHOHP"

"There it is" They finally let you go. You smiled, curling in on yourself. Price ruffling your head again. Soon the oven dinged, and dinner was ready. Simon bolted to the kitchen as dinner was being served. You weren't too far. He served you... His iconic lasagna. "This looks delicious" You said as he sat down.

"Eat away kiddo" He smiled as you all started to eat, Like Simon, this was the best thing you ever had. It was just so delicious. You didn't even realise you burped once you finished. "Sorry..." You apologised, but then Simon did you one better and let out a louder, longer burp. "Excuse me dad" Which made you giggle. Price chuckled softly and turned to you. "It's ok."

Once dinner was done, You and Simon went back to your halo match as the bond between you two grew... And then, you made your decision...

"Mr price, can I talk to you."

"Of course kiddo what's up ??" He smiled softly at you.

You turned to Simon and back to him before looking at your hands shyly, Trying to come up with the words. "It's ok take your time." He reassured before Simon saw you and walked to the entrance of the kitchen.

With a deep breath... "I... I want to stay with you guys... Not for one weekend."

You wanted to be adopted into their family, Your family. Price smiled so wide and soon pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Simon didn't hesitate and rushed over to you. Hugging you tightly. Making you giggle, You were home...

You were home.

A/N: A great way to start the new blog by breaking my own word count record :D

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

#platonic #reader insert #john price #captain john price #john price x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #captain john price x reader #call of duty #call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader

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