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lipstickstainedreid · 4 months

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Tequila shots

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

Summary: You and the team go out. Tequila shots are flowing, which leads to a closeness you hadn't expected.

Wordcount: 2787

NSFW, fem!dom!reader, Sub!Spencer, Praisekink

------------------------------------------------------------------------------The team decided that it was a good night to go out, after an especially hard case to celebrate. You were happy to find a nice black top in the back of your car. It’s off the shoulder and accentuates your cleavage nicely without being too much.

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror of the bar. Sighing you touch up your lipstick and fluff your hair for more volume.

“Y/n!” you hear Emily knock on the bathroom door.

“Coming!” You yell back.

You give yourself one more look before heading back into the bar.

Everybody is stuffed into a booth in the back. The Rolling Stones playing over the speakers gives the bar a nice vibe. A few small groups are scattered around, a couple of guys playing darts. Overall it’s not as busy as you’d expect.

You sit down next to Emily. “What are we talking ‘bout?” You smile.

Your eyes scan the table, everybody already has a drink. Morgan slides a beer towards you. You smile gratefully at him.

Your eyes get stuck on Spencer, he took off his blazer and the tight-fitting dark purple shirt is very visible. You let your eyes wander over his chest, the buttons are slightly pulling on the fabric. Over the past year, he grew out of his lanky frame and into a man with broad shoulders and arms. His sleeves rolled up making his arms look even bigger. God, he looked delicious.

“Well, Prentiss, JJ and I are convincing everyone else to go to this club a block away,” Morgan spoke.

“The average age here is 50.” Prentis sighed head resting on her hand, with the other she was waving her beer around to point at a group of elderly men.

Rossi quirked an eyebrow in her direction.

“No offence.” She quickly mumbled.

Spencer seemed to get nervous at the thought of going to a club. His hand ran through his hair.

“Come on guys, we want to dance!” JJ exclaimed. Garcia gave in with a little “Whooo,” sending a wink your way.

A night of dancing would be a good way to get your mind off of all the brutal cases you’ve seen lately. Besides it’s been forever since you had some drunken stupid fun. Who knows, what is the worst thing that could happen with your colleagues?

You take a big swig of beer. “Okay, I’m in!” You laughed. Half of the table burst out in cheers.

Hotch, Rossi and Reid still needed to be convinced. Prentis starts a small chant, tapping her beer on the table. “Clubbing, clubbing, clubbing.” JJ and Garcia join in quickly.

“Come on Hotch, scared you can’t keep up anymore.” Morgan taunts.

Hotch glances at the man next to him about to answer, when Rossi intervenes. “Come on Hotch let’s show these kids how it’s done.”

More cheers erupt from the table.

Reid is fidgeting with his hands looking up at you worried. you smile at him reassuringly and mouth “You’ll be okay.” He nods and gives you a small smile. His eyes were still a bit worried.

The team finishes their beers and gets ready to walk to the club.

Standing at the coat check you can already feel the bass coming from down the hall. You start feeling a little giddy, excitement filling your chest. “Y/n! you ready?” Penelope grabs your hand to pull you down the hallway.

The music hits you like a wall. There are speakers all around the room blasting what the DJ is playing. Different coloured lights are flashing everywhere. Reid comes up next to you, anxiety visible in his shoulders and jaw. You reach over and give his hand a small squeeze. He smiles at you and lets out a breath before walking in with you.

Prentis comes up to your group and waves everybody over. Derek is standing at the bar guarding a row of shots with his life. Everybody piles around the shots. You lick your hand and pour some salt over it. Getting ready holding the glass and lime.

“One, two, three, shot!” Morgan yells.

The tequila burns a little going down and you grimace at the taste. The lime helps a bit. You lock eyes with Reid who seemed to have a worse experience than you. Before you can talk to him the girls pull you back on the dancefloor.

In the bathroom, you look at your phone”, the text is starting to become blurry. 2:00 AM. Your mother's voice echoes in your head “Nothing good happens after 2:00 AM.” You shake your head and look in the mirror. Why do you always feel more drunk in the bathroom than out on the dancefloor? You reapply your lipstick and tousle your hair around a little bit. You stumble a little to the door before heading back out.

Walking past the bar you see Derek and Spencer standing around a group of girls. A small pang of jealousy hits your chest. Reid runs a hand through his hair and smiles at one of the girls. God, why did he have to look so hot today? All those girls are probably throwing themselves at him. It’s, not like he’s yours or anything but still, that doesn’t mean you have to like these girls flirting with him. Surely if you were sober this wouldn’t bother you as much. Right now your head is dizzy with alcohol, and you can’t think straight.

As you march over there Morgan calls out “Y/n come do a shot with us!” Spencer's hair was starting to stick to his forehead from the heat and he unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt. You could see the blonde girl beside him whisper something in his ear. Her hand very clearly touching his arm. Could she be even more obvious?

Reid his cheeks were turning red by the second as he gulped.

“Okay, it’s Reid's turn,” Morgan calls out, and all the girls cheer. Confusion is written all over your face, Derek smirks at you.

Spencer looks even more uncomfortable wiping his hands on his trousers.

“Okay pretty boy, it’s salt, shot, lime remember?” Reid nods, nervously looking around.

Derek comes closer to your ear, so you can hear him over the music. “Can you help boy genius out?”

“Sure, what do I need to do?” you answer.

“Stand there and look pretty we’ll do the rest.”

Sounds ominous but you’re sure Derek would never do anything you’re uncomfortable with.

He walks back to get some stuff from the bar and comes to stand behind you.

“Don’t be scared pretty girl.”

You feel something cold on your neck going down parallel to your collarbone. You turn your head to see salt getting poured over the same line. Derek stands in front of you now and hands you the lime. “Hold this in your mouth.”

You do as he says. Surely this is not the most professional thing you could do but you can’t see anyone else from the BAU around.

Spencer gets pulled by Derek to stand behind you. The blonde girl glares at you, obviously jealous of the position you’re in.

You can feel the heat radiate from the man behind you. He’s holding the shot glass in one hand.

Derek yells from the group of girls “One, two, three, shot!”

Spencer's big hand holds your arm as he moves even closer. You feel him completely pressed behind you as he dips his head down. His tongue moving across the strip of salt.

Tingles shoot up and down your spine. Just as fast as his mouth leaves your neck he turns you around. He takes the shot and puts the glass down. Both of his hands hold your face. He pulls you close to take the lime from between your lips.

Your breath stops. You’ve never been this close to the man in front of you. Your mind is consumed by the thought of this man. All you can think about is closing the gap between your lips. You lock eyes as he moves away. The confidence in his actions seems to fade away as he steps away from your body.

“Okay, Y/n now it’s your turn!” Morgan exclaims from behind you. His words slowly bring you back to where you are. “Pretty boy, you want to return the favour?” he taunts.

Spencer mumbles something which gets taken as a yes. The blonde girl drags the lime over the space on his chest now visible with the part of the shirt that’s unbuttoned. She shakes the shaker to pour salt over his chest. She gives him a wink before walking away. Reid takes the lime from Morgan, who hands you the shot after.

Something about this girl so obnoxiously flirting with Spencer is setting something off in you. Maybe you had some unresolved feelings about this man. You knew you were attracted to him, who wouldn’t be? This was a jealousy deeper than that.

You were aware these girls wanted to go home with Spencer tonight. Something switched in your mind. Fuck it let’s give them a show.

You approach the taller man, who’s staring nervously at you. With your free hand, you move the shirt out of the way and you lick a long strip over his chest, not breaking the eye contact. Spencer's eyes darken as he looks down at you. You take the shot and use both hands to pull Spencer down by his shirt. You’re filled with longing as you hold him there. Taking the lime from his lips, you feel his breath hitch in the closeness shared for a split second.

“Let’s go,” you growl in his ear. Reids's hand grabs yours as he pulls away. He manoeuvres you across the dancefloor filled with partygoers. When he finds an empty bathroom he pulls you inside and closes the door.

You push him against the door and with your other hand you lock it. Your lips connect in a passionate kiss. Fireworks go off in your chest as you’re mind is buzzing with alcohol and lust. Your lips move against his with hunger. His hands try to touch you anywhere he can. They move from your hips to your waist to pull you closer to him to your face. Your hands are unbuttoning his shirt. When his shirt is open you push it from his shoulders and let it fall on the bathroom floor. You break the kiss and a soft whine escapes the taller man. You let your eyes travel over Spencer. His blonde hair all tousled, cheeks red and lips flushed, his eyes stay focussed on yours.

“Such a pretty boy” you whisper against his ear as you leave wet kisses down his neck. He lets out a quiet breath from the feeling. You smile against his neck and suck harder leaving maroon and purple bruises all over his collarbone.

His knees almost buckle from the feeling. Your hands move down from his chest to his thighs. You softly brush against his groin feeling how hard he already is.

“Are you so needy already?” You coo.

Spencer nods feverishly “Please let me make you feel good.” He begs.

“Not yet baby,” your hands move to his belt slowly undoing it. “There is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” You quickly pull his pants and boxers down.

He gasps at the feeling of the cold air on his dick. A drop of precum already collecting at the tip. You smile as you slowly move your hand around his shaft. You go teasingly slow at first looking up at the man in front of you.

Spencer is leaning his head against the door, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed together.

You start licking at the tip, then moving from the base down his shaft. Spencer lets out a moan at the feeling. You take the tip in your mouth as his hand buries in your hair.

You start bobbing up and down his dick, your cheeks hollow. Enjoying the pretty sounds he’s making. Your hands grab his thighs. You notice Spencer is starting to move with your head trying to go deeper down your throat. He feels heavy on your tongue.

“Please Y/n,” he whimpers “Please let me cum.”

You move away from him. “Not so fast baby. Slowly standing up you keep one hand on his length, moving it teasingly slow. You feel him trying to gain some more friction by moving his hips. You loved having this incredible man so desperate for you.

“You’re being so good for me baby.”

Spencer moans at the praise.

“You want to fuck me, make me feel good?”

He nods his hands again trying to pull you closer.

“Please miss.”

You bring him towards the sink as you jump up on the counter. Pulling on his blonde locks you lock lips again. His tongue brushes against your lips, you let him in. Your tongues circle each other. Spencer's hands move to the bottom of your shirt.

“Can I take it off?” He murmurs against your lips. You nod in response.

He quickly moves his head away to remove the top and throws it down on the ground. He stares at you for a moment. His lips connect to your chest as his hands find their way to the clasps of your bra.

You moan at the feeling of his lips all over you. He slides the bands of your bra down your arms as it joins the pile on the floor.

His kisses move to your right nipple, and his hand finds your left boob. He kisses and sucks on it while his hand massages the other. His teeth softly pull on it.

“You make me feel so good baby, suck a good boy.”

He whimpers against your chest. His hands move your skirt up to your hips as his mouth continues making its way down. You gasp at the cold counter against your bare ass.

He hooks his fingers around your panties and moves them down your legs. They get tossed aside without looking. Spencer's mouth latches to your thigh. Wet kisses up and down your thighs.

You feel yourself getting wetter with each passing second as your breathing becomes more heavy.

After what feels like ages his lips find their way around your clit. His tongue moves circles around it gently applying pressure. Your hands are buried in his hair.

“Fuck Spence,” you moan.

his tongue licks around your entrance as he continues to suck on your clit.

Softly you feel one finger nearing your entrance. He moves it in and out of you with ease. Fuck he has long fingers.

A second one joins.

“Fuck baby,” He curls his fingers to hit your g-spot “you feel so good.” Your moans come out broken from the pleasure.

He continues eating you out as if his life depended on it.

A familiar tightness forms and your legs start shaking.

“Don’t stop Spence, I’m so close.” This only seems to make him more enthusiastic. His tongue still circling your clit. His long fingers fucking you. You can’t take it anymore.

“I’m gonna cum Spence.” You warn him.

Your sweet release covers his face as you moan his name.

The man comes up from between your legs with a hazy smile. You brush his hair out of his face.

“You did so good sweetheart.”

You give him a soft kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Something that sends a wave of endorphins through you.

Your hand moves down to his shaft again, still standing ready. With your other hand on his shoulder, you pull him closer to you. You give him a few pumps before lining him up with your entrance.

He moves into you. You both moan at the feeling as he slowly bottoms out.

“Fuck you’re so big baby, you make me feel so good.”

He whimpers “Thank you miss.”

Spencer starts thrusting slowly first, moaning at the feeling of you surrounding him.

“Faster baby.” At these words, he starts fucking you faster.

You press your nails into his shoulders. Whispering encouragements and praise into his ear.

His hips snapping into you faster and faster.

You feel your walls fluttering around him, feeling the familiar tightening in your stomach. Spencer starts moving faster and deeper. You can tell he’s getting close.

“Be a good boy and cum for me.”

That’s all it takes for Spencer and you to fall over the edge. His hips stutter as he lets out loud moans. He lets his head hang against yours as he fills you up.

You kiss his head.

“Such a good boy.”

#reid #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg #spencer x reader #spencer x y/n #smut #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #matthew gray gubler #fanfic #criminal minds fic

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iaure · 11 months

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𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶; 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢

𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝖔❜𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2: 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 3: 𝔦 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔨, 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 4: 𝔰𝔞𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 CW: self-awareness, stalking, obsession, delusion, ptsd, mention of a brother's death, thoughts of kidnapping. Written in the third person. Use of Y/N. Spoilers for Spider-Man: Across The Spiderverse.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ heaven have mercy on my simple soul. we might have another dearest series on our hands, but for miguel. god. jesus. i made this in one (1) day. it's two am.

wc: 1.7k

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻❜𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝗿𝗺𝘀.

Miguel knew that feeling all too well. Gabriella faded away in his arms, a flash of technicolour and geometric shapes. An entire world, falling away and escaping from him, like grains of glass as fine as sand but still so colourful. That's what kept him moving. He never wanted someone to make the same mistake. But he was only a man. he couldn't be alone in the isolation of his own making forever. He built up those walls, praying he'd have the sense to never knock them down. But brick by brick, other people did. First was Jess. She was his friend, his sister in arms. Then Peter, then a thousand other faces and names and hearts and morals and everything that made Spider-Man, Spider-Man. They each took a brick, as though it was nothing. It was just by pure chance that she was the one to take that last brick. She was a new addition. Friendly, witty, quick on her feet. Just like everyone else. Another Spider in another place and another time. Another in a million, another clone, another warm body as fodder. But when Jess brought her to him, Miguel knew; she was one in a trillion.

She had stood next to Jess, firm, with a thousand yard stare like she'd been digging around Miguel's soul and yanking out her favourite bruises. Harrowing was a good word for it. Her estranged brother, a captain in the police, had died. She looked like she'd seen Hell. Fresh bruises, scarring, her suit torn in some places...and she stood tall.

"Spider-Woman, from Earth 7290. Also known as Y/N."

Jess spoke softly, a hand on Y/N's shoulder. Her breathing was steady but her eyes had glazed over, completely tapped out to the situation. Miguel felt his heart tug. He knew what it was like. Everyone did. Most Spiders were sad, upset, but she simply seemed...angry. Furious, even. Like if Miguel made a move towards her, she'd chew him up and spit him out. He'd seen people try to tame horses before, ones that would buck and kick and neigh until someone's leg was broken. It was like Jess was doing that. The one hand on Y/N's shoulder, keeping her in place.

"Miguel?" Jess spoke up, and he came out of his haze. "Are you listening?" "Yeah." He nodded, quietly clearing his throat. "Sure. Get her a watch." Jess shared a look with Y/N, one that he couldn't quite tell the reasoning behind, but the glance of her eyes was enough.

Spider-Woman of Earth 7290 took the last brick.

He'd see Y/N around, walking around the Spider Society and speaking with other Spiders. She seemed to hold that anger close to her heart, despite the other Spiders telling her that it'd get better over time. They'd healed, or got over it, or pushed it out of their mind. But not Y/N. She stayed mad. She stayed angry. Miguel understood that more than most. Mourning took time. So many had gotten over it after years. It wasn't fair to expect Y/N get it over it so fast. He didn't think so, anyway. After all, it was an anomaly that took her brother's life. A mistake. It had fallen off the proverbial map, but according to Jess, Y/N had 'handled it her own way'. Whatever that meant. Miguel didn't really care. All he worried about was her. Rather than just taking the brick off his walls, she smashed it in with a hammer and ran it over with a bulldozer. She had a wrecking ball to smash a single blue and red brick. And he hated it. Because what about Gabriella? What about his wife? Did their deaths mean nothing now? And how was this healthy? Granted, Miguel wasn't a healthy person. Not like that. But the sudden way his mind dedicated himself to her was absurd. Did it have to do with his DNA? With the spider mutation? Rapture? Mating season? There had to be an explanation. A cure.

But there was none.

Now, Miguel's mind was rotting away. He wished he could pry it open and take to it with tweezers, to prod out the parts that he hated. But his eyes lingered on you for a moment too long, and he knew he didn't stand much of a chance anymore. It was all Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. Even just the faint, passing scent of her was enough to drive him up a wall that very much shouldn't exist. Passing word of her wellbeing made him tune into conversations he was never part of. He began to develop a seventh sense: touch, hearing. sight, smell, taste, spidersense, and Y/Nsense.-the uncanny ability to know when she needed help. Trademarked, owned by Miguel O'Hara exclusively. Peter once teased him about how Miguel would suddenly jump up and scoot over to the cameras, checking in on Spider-Woman 7290.

The teasing didn't last long when given way to the severity of the situation.

Gradually, Miguel leaned into it. If he couldn't fight it, then join it. Revel in it. Let his eyes linger on her frame. Let his waking hours resort to thinking of her. Let him suffer. He deserved it. He began to follow Y/N around. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her. And sometimes, Miguel would see enemies-a Vulture here, a Doc Ock there-and he'd help when she wasn't looking. Little favours here and there began cropping up. Getting her groceries. Taking care of her cat. Fiddling with the gas for the car of the one creep that kept following her around that was so sure she was Spider-Woman. Granted, the creep was right. But he didn't know that.

(He did. Love comes in many shapes and forms.)

Y/N never seemed to notice. She was off, battling her own demons and fighting the good fight in her own world. She was good and kind and still angry but she used that anger so well, and Miguel loved her for it. She burned with the anger of a thousand dying stars. She was everything. When Y/N would stop by the Spider Society, Miguel made sure to look good. Brush his hair, brush his fangs, make sure his eye bags weren't too obvious, or if they were, then they looked good. He was trying to get her to like him, after all. Check to make sure his suit didn't have any tears or holes. Because Y/N was gorgeous. She could drag herself in with her guts spilling out like roadkill and he'd still think she's the most beautiful thing to grace the multiverse.

The beauty of delusion, he supposed.

He was aware how delusional this was. He knew how absurd it was that he saw her and fell immediately. Was this what happened in fairy tales? Is this what Prince Charming felt when he saw Cinderella? The world completely spinning the moment there's even a hint of her? The complete dedication of his heart to this woman that barely acknowledged him...someone who would only glance his way if it was a requirement. Y/N was cordial to him, but little more. And it made his heart ache. She spoke to Jess more than she spoke to him. It felt wrong. It felt cruel, like a tease, trailing up and down his spine but never providing relief. One word to him was ten to Jess.

Miguel refuses to admit it, to accept that he was willing to stoop so low. But there was a brief moment where he thought about hurting Jess. Or getting her on some mission that would take forever. Breaking her bracelet when she least expected it so Y/N would have to come to him.

He'd never act on it. He was sure of that.

If there was one thing Miguel was proud of for himself, it was his restraint. He had the unparalleled ability to simply...hold off. Another day, he'd tell himself. Next time, he'd self-assure. Then another next time. Then another. Until heaven knows how many next times it's been, and he's aching for her to even look at him, but why won't she glance his way? Why was she so cold? He's done everything he could. Just look at him! For god's sake, just fucking look at him! That's all he wanted! Five minutes with your eyes on him, your undivided attention.

But no. Another day, he said. Next time.

But maybe he could simply...take Y/N away. Her world was inconsequential. It'd be easy to take care of any villains. He'd do it for her, single-handedly. She were everything. He could just keep her there, in his office, never allowed to leave. He could come back after a long mission to her loving arms, her warm embrace, flush to flush to flush to flush. He'd do unspeakable things just for her to trace the vague outline of his body with her eyes. If Y/N told him to kill, he'd do so without question anymore. Miguel barely had any control over himself.

The next time he saw her, it was while dealing with Miles. It was so much, all at once and never at all and undying and swarming his senses. It was so much that he didn't realise how much she'd been smiling at the two teenagers, how sweet her gaze got, the gentle touches and warm laughter and how Gwen and Miles looked up to her.

He didn't know Y/N had a soft spot for kids. And he found out most vividly when she was the first one to help Miles escape, blocking off what must've felt like half of the Spider Society with the same undying rage, now spent on protecting her new friend, the child she called such sweet things. That she saw as her own.

Miguel felt his heart shatter when he had to take her down. The way she fell into the floor, limp and dangling like she was nothing more than occupied space. His heart was wounded, wailing like a dying dog. She picked the newcomer, the anomaly, over him. Him, her one true love. Did it matter that she'd known it yet? No. It only mattered that she helped Miles escape.

Lord, he thought. I worry that love is violence.

#divagaciones (per)#yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #yandere miguel o'hara x reader #i am a girlboss i am a war criminal i am a lunatic and i am clinically insane and the next virgin mary and i am never going to die

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tahliafox · 5 months

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Only you.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader.

Summary: “Oh, baby. It's only you. My special, little girl.” Natasha whispered into your ear, like a dirty secret.

Warnings: Angst, Making out.

Word count: 1938

This is an add on to Dirty Secret, my last published story.

Your finger flitted gently over the F# a couple times before a light pressure caused a horrendous off-key sound coming from the G in front of it. Your eyes tightly closed shut at the mistake.

“It’s an F#, darling.” The deep voice that appeared beside you made you flinch into a pair of thin, delicate hands that came to rest on your tender shoulders. A green-flecked gaze ran over Natasha’s perfectly polished nails. From instant perception, the older woman's voice seemed to be aroused with disappointment.

The hand that once rested on your shoulder came and grasped at your shaky hands to place them onto the right keys. “A, then F#, then back to A. The notes are in triplets, play it rhythmically and evenly. That may prevent you from slipping again.” You took in a quiet breath, drying out your wanting lips.

“I'm sorry, I have been trying to play it for ages now. I just can't get it right.” Your voice came out shaky, the breath taken in did little to calm your nerves- further prevented by the divine presence behind you. Natasha ran her hand back over to your shoulder and comfortingly caressed the tiffany blue, cotton shirt. Nimble fingers played with the satin collar that had been folded neatly, framing your porcelain neck. It was unfolded and folded again in exactly the same way, however it seemed to look neater after Natasha’s touch.

“Why don’t you take a break, sweetheart. Maybe we could clear your head a little.” Natasha looked into your eyes through the gold-framed mirror in front of you both. You blushed under her gaze, as always, and nodded your head. “Fancy a walk?”`

You found yourself thoughtlessly agreeing.

Dancing ballet through thin plaits and red ribbons, the wind seemed to cool your forever flushed cheeks. Golden shards of light peaked through the patterned skyline created by browning leaves. The tree's trunks were home to a blanket of moss that creeped its way up through the branches. Ruby red heels clicked along the stoney, concrete road - that had been framed roughly by brittle leaves fallen from adjacently-lined rows of tall autumn-stained trees.

Your hand fiddled with the fur lining at the end of your coat, nimble fingers occasionally brushing against the coffee-coloured, plaid skirt you had on. Your eyes were trained on the floor, watching your every step, dear God don’t fall over. You were oh-so careful, trying not to trip over any loose stones that may have been in your way- after all, embarrassing yourself in front of Natasha any more that you already had was the only thing racing through your mind.

Covered in a ebony-black trench coat, Natasha looked glamorous and rich as always, with a cherry cigarette hanging from her lips. Her hair was tucked neatly into a french beret, secured by two pure gold clips. Everything she owned was so expensive, so expensive that you started to feel worth something every time Natasha layed her gentle fingers against your scarred skin.

“The sunsets are always beautiful this time of year.” Natasha put forth. Her hand was gently intertwined with your own, repeatedly rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand. The unconscious movement managed to both calm and panic you at the same time. The overwhelming being of Natasha never ceased to leave your frame of mind, she was always there.

Natasha was not expecting the silence she was met with after her remark. You clearly had not cleared your mind yet. “Please try to stop thinking, darling. You have been ever-so stressed recently and it's starting to worry me- and believe me I need nothing less than more worry lines on my forehead.” she chuckled. Your gaze whipped from the gravel path into Natasha’s eyes.

“You are beautiful.” You spluttered. Natasha blushed softly and raised her eyebrows- making you choke on a dry throat. The soft cigarette smoking coming from Natasha’s mouth weaved its way through the air. “I- I mean that you shouldn't worry about getting lines on your face. You’re already so beautiful and I- well there's nothing that could happen to your face to erase that.” You un-methodically rambled.

Natasha listened with a sweet smile on her face. Her eyelashes fluttered as she took in the wonder in your eyes as you spoke about her. “Well, thank you very much, sweetheart.” Natasha squeezed your hand tightly in hers with the intention of comfort.

You smiled and looked back at the floor, the disorder of thoughts slowly clearing. “Did you talk to Darren about my sleeping arrangements? He asked me to clear out the guest room downstairs for whilst he is away- to keep you company.” You changed the subject. Natasha’s smile sunk a little at the mention of her husband.

“Why don’t we take a trip away as well. Nobody is needing us here, we could go to Rome. I know you speak italian.” Natasha mumbled. You nodded your head at the option. Rome was always lovely at this time of the year, and your apartment there looked over the skyline perfectly.

“I have a place there.” You mentioned. Natasha looked at her, surprised.

“You do?”

“Well, it used to be my Nonno’s, but after he passed away I inherited it. It's completely paid off and everything.”

Natasha smiled at you as you both got to the end of the gravelled road, reaching a perfectly preserved fence. A bay horse lifted its head from the grass, looking over to see you and Natasha standing over the fence. Natasha clicked her tongue at her horse.

The horse came trotting over with its head held high.

“How come I don't look after the horses as well as the house?” You asked.

“I assumed you were not trained with equine animals. If you had mentioned it in your resume I would have discussed it with you.” Natasha ran her hand along the stripe on the geldings head.

“Oh- I am not trained with horses, I just assumed I would take care of everything.” You hesitated for a second. “You have other maids?”

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head a little at the tone of your question. “Well, yes. It's a rather large estate and it would be impossible for you to clean it yourself, especially because you're not a live-in maid.”

The realisation that there were other people that could possibly be this close to Natasha shot its way through your stomach like a bullet. What if you weren’t special? What if Natasha was just overly kind, overly giving? What if she’d been with another woman? A concerned look settled onto your face and, unbeknownst to yourself, Natasha was watching every twitch, every little movement to try and read what you were thinking. So lost in thought, you didn't even realise that Natasha's hand had let go of your own hand, and was now reaching its way onto your cheek.

The juxtaposing smells of Natasha’s cherry wrist and the horse's mane were able to pull you out of a trance. Natasha held your face ever-so delicately and lifted your chin so she could look directly into soft eyes. Like the scent of Natasha, a cherry shade flooded onto your cheeks- all the way to the tips of your ears.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Natasha kindly demanded.

“Do you talk to everyone like this? Do you… well, are you with anyone as well as this?” The innocence of the question, followed with the despair that painted its way onto your face made Natasha pull you into her firm hold. You wrapped your arms around Natashas waist as one of her hands made its way into your hair, scratching at your scalp softly.

“Oh, baby, only you. My special, little girl.” Natasha whispered into your ear, like a dirty secret. You burrowed your head into Natasha’s neck, allowing the sweet smell to dissipate your thoughts. Natasha rested her chin on top of combed hair and swayed you in her arms, whilst continuously stroking a line from the base of your neck to scalp.

After a long moment, you pulled away from Natasha’s neck, keeping the woman close in your arms. Your head turned away from Natasha’s gaze, scouting the area to see if anyone was with the two of you.

“Kiss me.” You stated.

Natasha seemed to know everything, but at this moment she went foolish, you hadn't asked her for anything since that night. Often pervaded with words, she found herself speechless. She’d kissed you before, she’d fucked you before yet this was different, thought through- intimate, less impulsive. Sharply inhaling through her nose, (the sweet smell of you not helping her state of overwhelm) went blank, and opened her mouth.

“What?” The older woman's voice, unlike her face, was filled with emotion and expression. It held a tone of something that you’d never heard before- disbelief maybe, so abnormal that your stomach started to curl. Her voice went- she tried to respond but all that happened was an opening of pretty, pink lips and the release of a cut breath. Natasha stared with shock for a few seconds, her mouth had dropped open the same. Her eyes flicked around the property they were on, after realising they were truly alone she nodded.

“Ask- ask me again and I'll give you anything. I’ll give you everything, just ask me.” Natasha’s voice was desperate. The young girl stole her thoughts and replaced them with images of what could happen. Breathing out of her nose, she closed her eyes and dropped so her forehead was resting against yours. “Please, baby. Ask me again.” The desperate voice dropped to a pleading whisper.

“Kiss me.”

Despite the sheer desperation swimming within Natasha, she was gentle and kind. Soft, moisturised lips kissed themselves on your shaky mouth, pecking twice- why was she being so damn gentle- until it got too much. You whined, feeling the older woman inhale against your mouth as the noise registered in her ears. Her legs subtly got closer, almost crossing.

Your eyes were closed, so tightly- as if you were making it up in your head and the permission of sight would cause a decay of the dream. But it was real, as real as Natasha’s nose brushing against yours, her lips intertwined, sucking on your lower lip. As real as her bold, undiscouraged hands gripping at your waist, forcing an arch in your back as she leaned into you.

Your slender arms draped over her neck, the crinkles in your shirt, the dip in her knees. Raphael couldn't paint a prettier picture than what was standing in broad daylight.

“Please.” You begged, not knowing what you were actually asking for.

More, anything.

“What, baby?” her mouth drew a millimetre away from yours. “Tell me what you need.”

You stuttered. Her, just her.

“You, please.” so frail, so inexperienced. What were you supposed to ask for other than her? You just wanted her again.

Yet the world seemed so unkind, as the faint tapping of boots against cobbled stone started to get louder. Natasha withdrew herself from you completely, and in the matter of seconds you seemed to go through withdrawals. Your eyes widened, then welled.

The older woman had you at almost arms length, she consistently observed the surroundings. You begged that no one had seen the both of you together. Once so tender, she went cold, then started walking away from you.

“Go back inside, finish your duties.” she ordered, as if she was talking to staff. You then realised she was, and that's what you were to her, an employee.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #older!natasha romanoff #older!natasharomanoff #tahliesfics

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six-eyed-samurai · 2 months

Text

AGAIN AND AGAIN - A REINCARNATION AU

Help, what have I done? Sorry if this doesn't fit the characters, I was writing it sleep deprived and as neutral as possible. Support me and my poetry (that I came up with in the shower)

Heavens blessed me with you

The Knight, who when your parents announced you would marry you off to some elderly Lord, kept true to his word and took you away, escaping into the clashing colors of freedom and love in another kingdom far, far away, only for your world to darken into black and white once more when your enraged parents caught up and had him executed; it was now your turn to keep your side of the oath and join him in the afterlife when you drank the poisoned chalice.

In every rebirth

The Roman General who passed by you, lashing out any "potential buyer" when he walked disgusted through the slave market - he bought you freedom and yet somehow you stayed with him forever willingly cuffed by shackles of affection...until he died of an assassination and you were hung for having an "affair" with someone of higher class, but not before you both screamed to whatever god that would listen to come back to each other once more.

I promise I'll find you

The Baker who's never cared a penny about the other air headed girls from his small British village until you, a young noble lady recently moved into the old Baskerville Manor, turned up requesting his help in setting a banquet. Excuses after excuses pile up from both sides in an attempt to extend your brief time together but soon, oh, too soon, you leave as per your family's orders and he's left to wonder how you're doing now, because after years and years of searching they refused to let him in.

Through tears, death, dreams and mirth

The White American who finds you working day in day out at the laundry lady's for little to no pay, so from his not so small tips grew to slipping love letters through the pockets of his clothes, but soon you're fired and bade to leave for your skin colour and he's still bitterly cursing the townspeople for their blind racism.

And I know it's just a gamble

The Hockey player who grins at you who always shows up to his games in every match until he asks you out on an ice skating date, but alas, how could he have known that the day you finally showed up in his jersey, much to his delight, would be the day a crazed fan clubbed you on the head with his own hockey stick, much to your doom? He left the industry as cold as the rink.

Unfair, repeated roll of dice

The F1 Racer who whines about the most ridiculous problems happening to his car and making bad impressions of the other drivers just to see his beloved mechanic even crack a smile - no oil or dirt stained on you could ever dim that brilliant smile when you both went on a joyride together into the sunset...oh, wait, his death on the track did.

But in this temporary, fleeting

The Roommate who knows exactly what you want for breakfast every morning, and soon it spiraled into having a meal together for lunch and dinner too, especially when he added candles and rose petals! You still make your coffee the same way he did even after your studies took you abroad and both of you decided it was for the best to break up.

Moment in fast ending time

The Landlord who did NOT expect such a cute little you to move on when he decided to make a little cash on the side renting out his spare room...never mind, it's still on rent because now you've moved into his room. He managed to save your photo album from the charred remains of your house though...although he couldn't save you.

Tell me, oh tell me

The Drug dealer who just recently entered your big brother's gang, who protected you with his scrawny body every time any sexually frustrated asshole came to harass you. Your declarations of love didn't come in heartfelt words or gifts but a smoked joint with each other. You both didn't get delusional, because why should you when your fantasies were right in front? It was the same when you overdosed after someone ratted him out and sent him to a life sentence in prison.

Darling love of mine

The Mafioso who charms you with his suave words and cool under fire attitude, causing you to giggle and kick your feet whenever he came back to your door with flirtations and blood on his face from those who disrespected the mob boss's goddaughter. It was the classic romantic Italian dinner when he got down one one knee...except for the part when his rivals arrived to gun him down and you're left staring at his broken body and shattered ring.

You're just as lost

The Neighbour who had no idea the babysitter for the kids next door would be so goddamned FINE - if only he hadn't fumbled and stumbled over his words in the elevator! But that's alright, even little Ray and Katie are rooting for him and you! Your first date might not be fancy, but he was more starstruck in awe of you than he was of the night sky as you sat on top of the roof.

In paradise

"I feel like I've know you all my life."

"In every lifetime?"

"Maybe!"

And somewhere deep inside, you both knew it for certain: the endless cycles of pain were finally broken.

"I'm so glad of whatever karma that I did in my previous life got me to meet you!"

"You better continue it in this life so I can see you in the next one!"

Not karma, actually, but a series of broken promises finally repaired.

***

Sukuna, Giyuu, Kokushibo, Gojo, Takemitchy, Mikey, Ranpo, Nikolai, Kirishima, Hawks, Kakashi, Nishinoya, Kuroo, Toji, Kazutora, Nanami, Eren Yeager, Gyutaro, Kunikida, Zuko, Yuta, Inumaki, Levi, your favourites!

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jasmines-library · 3 months

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This might be a weird request, but can you take your favorite song and make a batfam story with it? I saw the “Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?” fic and immediately folded I loved it so much <3 <3 <3

The Ghost of You.

YES YES YES! It's really hard for me to just pick one song, but this came to mind so i thought i'd give it a go. Also this probably wasn't what you were after anon, so i'm sorry. You're all going to hate me after this :(

Summary: After your death, the batfam struggle to navigate their lives without you.

Warnings: This fic deals with death (mildly graphic) and the aftermath, contains suicidal thoughts, grief, unhealthy ways of processing grief and some other heavy content so please be advised.

Word Count: 2k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

I never said I'd lie and wait forever

If I died, we'd be together

I can't always just forget her

But she could try

Tim was the first to arrive too late.

Your body had already careened over to the side, collapsing into a puddle of your own blood. Tim faltered as he made his way over to you, gawping at the arrows that protruded gruesomely from your stomach, your shoulder and the back of your knee. That was what had taken you down: a well placed shot to the back of the joint. The other two followed as insurance. To ensure that you would bleed out.

And even though Tim was right there, he faltered. Even though he could see the way your chest spluttered as you fought for air, he couldn’t bring himself to move. His hands shook. His lips trembled. And if anyone was focusing hard enough they would have been able to see the glint as water collected in his eyes.

Then came Jason, grappling down from the building. He had heard it before he saw it. Grimacing at the way your cry was followed by two more, he was gripped tight by a fit of rage. Mercilessly he took out the two crooks in front of him so he could dash to your side. He should have been helping Nightwing and Batman, but at that moment all he could focus on was your safety.

He managed to gather himself up enough to try and press around the arrows, but your blood pooled through the fabric of your suit and your breathing had slowed to nearly nothing. Tim had finally got himself to move and he was sure that he heard someone call your name. Though he couldn’t remember if it was himself or Jason. Either way he too pressed down harshly around the arrow to try and staunch the blood flow. And it should have hurt. God, you should have been thrashing and screaming. But you just lay there, spluttering as you faded. Tim didn’t know what was worse; but he came to the conclusion that the sound of your agonised scream was better than waiting in this near listless silence.

“Just hold on, Raven.” Jason. But you would have never guessed it from the way his normally firm voice wavered. “We’re going to get you to help…j-just a little longer.

Then you moved. Your hands shifted to lay atop of theirs and you strained your head to see them. Tim’s stomach dropped as you looked at him with your hooded eyes and small smile. A gesture of consolidation. You were trying to tell them that it was okay. It made Tim want to hurl. How could you be thinking of them in a time like this?

“Y/N..?” Tim muttered. He should have used your vigilante name. He didn’t care.

“s’okay” you slurred as your eyes fluttered at him. You could no longer make out much as your vision became a blur of colour. Jason palled at the sight of the crimson that stained your teeth as a sickening contrast to the paleness of your skin. He wanted to look anywhere else, like to Dick and Damian who were still trying to take down the criminals who just wouldn’t quit, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of your face.

“S’gonna b-be ok..”

“No…” Tim was crying now. They both were. Neither made any effort to try and hide it.

“P-promise you won’t do…any’thn stupid-” you mumbled.

Tim brushed his thumb over your hand. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to but he would. For you. “I promise…”

You wanted to turn your attention to Jason, but your eyes fluttered and you could feel your strength fading.

“ Love you…” Then, your chest rose… and fell as you took your final breath.

At the end of the world or the last thing I see

You are never coming home, never coming home

Could I? Should I?

And all the things that you never ever told me

And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

The manor was silent. Deathly silent.

And even though the manor was the busiest it had been for a while it still seemed so empty. It was almost like the minute that your heart stopped pumping, so did all of the life in the manor.

Dick hardly slept. He spent his nights staring blankly at the ceiling, letting his thoughts carry him away because if he didn’t his mind would torture him with pictures of you. He had thought about it. He had thought about it a lot actually. Especially after he had seen your body being lowered into the ground sealing you into nothingness. You were gone.

Dick remembered Jason and Tim uttering something about promising not to do anything stupid. But he wasn’t sure. They didn’t talk much anymore. He thinks he remembered them saying that they had promised you. But he hadn’t. And so the thought crossed his mind often. If he was only brave enough to do it. Oh, what he would jive to see even just a ghost of one of your charismatic grins again. Or to hear your laughter as you sang to your music poorly in your room across the hall. You often used to keep the door open, just a crack as a form of comfort blanket and that let your voice carry through the hall. But now the door was firmly closed.

Pull yourself together. Dick blinked away the film that formed in his eyes. Though no tears fell; he had cried himself dry a long time ago. You wouldn’t want this. Dick had tried to tell himself. But it seemed everything he did reminded him of you. Reminded him how he was never going to see you again. And it hurt. You were still so young. You had your entire life ahead of you to live and Dick yeared to have seen it. But it was ripped away from you cruelly like candy from a child.

Ever get the feeling that you're never all alone?

And I remember now

Your bloodstained face was burned permanently into Tim’s mind. It was there every time his eyes drifted closed.

Each time he finally got himself to sleep, there you were. Crying out his name.

He should have been quicker. Tim scolded himself often for this. He thought that his fumble could have been the difference between you living and dying. But of course, he had frozen. His body had refused to function no matter how much his brain screamed at him to just move! But he was frozen. He remembered watching fearfully as Jason, who was much further away, dropped to his feet from above and tried feebly to help. If only he had been just that little bit quicker. If only he had been paying attention then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place.

He was sitting in the batcave, staring blankly at the monitors. Not because he wanted to but because someone had to. Though him being there wouldn’t have made much difference. All of the shapes on the screen had blurred into one colour.

Tim had never felt more lonely sitting in the plush chair because usually you would be there with him. Cracking a joke or two, or reminding him he needed to go to sleep with a gentle touch on the shoulder or his hand. Sometimes Tim thought he could still feel it. A phantom pain: like when someone loses a limb.

You had become such an important part of his daily life that his body yeared for your touch or the sound of your voice. He yearned for the warmth of your fingers, but then remembered that the last time he felt them, they were ice cold and covered in your own blood.

At the top of my lungs in my arms, she dies

She dies.

Jason was angry. He had never handled his grief well, even from a young age. And his coping mechanisms were far from healthy. Whilst his brothers spent their time reserved to themselves, Jason was searching for revenge. But he had promised you he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

So he found his solitude in a punching bag.

Your scream piercing through the air. A punch to the bag so hard that it swung violently on its bolt.

The feeling of your blood trickling around his fingers. A right hook.

Your cold and clammy skin against his as he removed his gloves to trail his hands along your face. Another.

Your last words falling from your tongue. Punch.

Your chest rising as you spluttered. Punch. punch.

Your last exhale. Punchpunchpuch.

He kept going until his knuckles were a mangled and bloody mess and he felt like his jaw might snap from how much he had been clenching it.

Jason didn’t bother to wrap his knuckles as he trudged towards the shower, despite how much they burnt and throbbed. But for some sick reason he couldn’t wrap his mind around, he savoured it. Almost as a punishment for not being able to save you.

When he slipped into the shower, he still couldn’t stop the flood of images ricocheting around his head like a broken record that still somehow managed to play no matter how scratched up it was. He thought he might have found some solace in the feeling of the water trickling over his skin, but all he found was his mind confusing it for the feeling of your blood on his skin.

Jason let out a cry of anguish, bringing his fists to clench at his hair as he sank to the floor and began to cry.

And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me

For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me

If I fall, if I fall down

Damian had seen a lot of death in his life. That came as part of being a human weapon. But no death tore him up as much as yours.

He would forever remember the cold that gripped him when he saw Jason with your body in his arms. He had never felt so empty as Bruce tried to pull him away. Damian had fought against him, nearly clawing at his father to try and get to you, but Bruce just held him close and pressed Damians face into his chest to shield him from the horrors in front of him. But it was too late. He had already seen your mangled body and he couldn’t help the way his body trembled as he clung to Bruce like a scared little child.

And Damian would never admit it, but he was scared.

Scared of how everything would play out now that you were gone. Scared that you were angry at him for being so far away. Scared that because he wasn’t there when it mattered most, that it might happen again.

He should have been there. Damian cursed to himself.

He had been on the other side of the building trying to deal with the last of the crooks. Dick was with him for a time, but had finished up much earlier than Damian and had fled as soon as possible. Damian should have picked up then that something was wrong.

But he didn’t.

And he was so frustrated with himself for not. He should have been better. Should have taken the criminal down with one blow and followed his brother to your side. Surely with all four of them there, you would have made it… right?

He wasn’t so sure.

He wasn’t sure of much anymore. No one was. And they all felt so betrayed because you being by their sides was one of the things that kept them going everyday. And now…

One thing they did know for certain though was that you were gone. And no matter how much they yearned for you, you were never coming home.

🦇 BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@mamapucket

@xxrougefangxx

@hearts4robs

(I'm sorry.)

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cal-flakes · 10 months

Note

omg can you do dealer rafe where reader and wheez are making daisy chains and he realises he loves her

HOLY MOTHER MARY OF GOD I LOVE THIS!!!!

╰┈➤ dealer!rafe finally realised how much you mean to him.

warnings: just pure fluff.

summary: rafe watches y/n making daisy chains with wheezie.

the sun beamed down on tannyhill as she lounged in the garden, sipping on an iced latte.

soft footed patters rolled into the garden as wheezie looked around for her. spotting y/n, surrounded by the bright flower beds which complimented her tanned skin beautifully, she headed over.

“hey y/n, do you want to make daisy chains with me?” she asked sheepishly, used to being turned down.

y/n smiled up at the youngest cameron, setting her drink down. “ooh! i love making daisy chains!” she proclaimed, pushing herself up from the lounger.

“i think we should make flower jewellery for the party this weekend..” wheezie suggested, following behind y/n while she inspected the flowers in the corner.

“i think that’s a great idea wheez! now, which colours do you wanna use?” she twisted her face to think.

after picking an abundance of flowers from the back of the garden, the two girls settled in the middle, cross legged.

their fingers worked fast to loop each flower with another, the amount of necklaces piling up quickly. they’d each made a flower crown for each other, now wearing them like royalty.

“i think you should make one for rafe, he’d look great in pink!” wheezie laughed, throwing her head back hysterically.

“good choice! maybe a bit of purple in there too?” y/n joked, eyebrows raised in amusement.

their fit of giggles caught rafe’s attention, leaning over the balcony to get a look at what was so funny.

the stoic expression forever plastered on his face softened slightly as he took in the scene before him. his girlfriend’s bright smile caught his eye as he watched the girls roll around on the floor, menacing laughter surrounding them.

rafe was completely enamoured by her, she fit in so well with him and everything around him. including his little sister, who he also had a little soft spot for. so, to watch them get along made his heart swell.

“i think someone’s spying on you..” wheezie smirked, motioning a discreet hand to rafe’s balcony.

y/n glanced up quickly, sighing lovingly as she caught him staring.

“i think you should give him his new bracelet, he’ll love it! wheezie squealed, nudging y/n.

“oh absolutely! do we have enough necklaces for the party now?” she asked, not wanting to abandon their fun. a thumbs up from wheezie sent y/n on her way.

her sandals smacked against the wooden floor as she made her way to rafe’s room, alerting him she was near.

she found him on the balcony, now sat on his phone. “hey, i have a surprise for you!” y/n giggled, clutching the magenta bracelet behind her back. “oh yeah? what’s that?”

setting her drink down on the glass table, she stepped closer. “are you ready?”

rafe chuckled, nodding as he stared up at her in awe. he sat still in anticipation while she brought her hands back around slowly, intent on making him wait. “i made you…” she held her cupped hands out proudly “a bracelet!”

“this is for me?” he gasped, feigning shock as he held his arm out for her to put it on.

after the small struggle of fitting the bracelet over his hand, he held it up to his face, smiling. “you think this is my colour?” he joked, mocking her choice of a bright pink. “hey! it bring out your eyes..” she pouted, settling on his knee.

her face twisted into a small frown as he failed to say anything else, his eyes falling on hers.

he almost couldn’t think of the words to describe how he felt in that moment, he just knew he’d never felt like this before, with anyone.

“i love you so much y/f/n, like, a lot” he grinned, stroking her arm gently. her mouth opened slightly as her breath hitched.

she’s waited so long to hear him say it that she’d almost completely forgotten that she never had either.

“i love you too rafe, this much!” she giggled again, holding her arms out as wide as they could go.

he chuckled at hee childlike behaviour, pulling her in a for a soft kiss, his hands trailing her waist.

“finally!” a small voice squeaked from below them. the pair broke into fits of laughter as they realised wheezie had heard the whole thing, still counting the flower necklaces.

turning back to eachother, she eyed the bracelet on his wrist.

“you really gonna wear that?” amused at the thought. rafe nodded immediately. “absolutely princess…”

and that he did. big scary rafe cameron wore it like a medal on his wrist, begging her to make him a new one every he accidentally snapped it, which was a lot.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #obx #dom!rafe #rafecameron #rafe obx #soft!dom rafe #dealer!rafe

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morallyinept · 4 months

Text

Adrift With You - A Frankie Morales Series - Chapter 2

Summary: Heading away on a work re-location, Frankie embarks on a flight, but unbeknownst to him, his life is about to change forever. For starters, he will need to fight for it; harder than he's ever fought for anything else before.

Marooned on an isolated island in the middle of the ocean, still recovering from an addiction, his chances of survival are bleak; but he’s not alone on the island, and soon he’s running towards a different kind of life - a life with fellow survivor, Jude, fighting right beside him every step of the way.

And if they can both survive the island together, they can survive anything, right?

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Jude

Chapter word count: 3.7k

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: Frankie takes an offer. Jude is left floundering.

Enjoy! 🖤

Chapter 1

He’s exhausted and any chance of sleep seems like a farfetched pipedream.

The current is still choppy and he’s using all his strength to stay on the piece of wreckage that’s undoubtedly saving his life right now as he rides the waves that are unrelenting and battering his body.

Franke isn’t entirely sure when nightfall had swallowed him up, or hasn’t a clue at how far into the night he actually is in terms of time. He can’t see his watch in the pitch dark.

He lays on his back, hands gripping either side of the wreckage with them submerged into the cold water with a tight hold; the pain in his side is aching profusely and the burning sensation still makes its harsh presence known across his neck skin.

His throat is dry and coarse and he stares up into the black, not really able to separate the horizon from the deep pit of space above him; just swallowed in a deep intense darkness that seems incredibly lonely and innately scary.

After a while, he starts to see images in the darkness when he looks inside it for so long; little dots of colour that merge and weave themselves into thoughts and memories that soon become shapes and birth a life of their own.

They begin twisting into hallucinations and nightmare images that plague his mind over and over, of an aeroplane crashing into the ocean, fire burning his skin and so much blood curdling screaming that deafens him; a vile ringing in his ears that shakes him out of any sleep he drifts into.

He has nothing to do but to relive them all over and over to the point he’s unsure whether he’s residing in reality anymore or not.

Freezing ocean water splashes over Frankie’s torso again and he shudders from the cold; his teeth begin that uncontrollable chatter as his arms shake through his intense grip on the debris with exhausted nerves.

Frankie isn’t a religious man; he’s seen and done so many terrible things in his time in Delta Force to know there is a first class seat waiting for him in Hell. Will's right, the numbers never lie. 9. 28. 39. 87. 208. 674. The numbers never lie, Frankie. 9 physical scars. 28 stitches. 39 confirmed kills. 87 civilians. 208 days spent on the front line in the desert heat. 674 bullets. Yeah, Hell is definitely where he'll end up.

But at this moment, he closes his eyes tight and prays wholly that he won’t die out here alone in the frightening ocean, waiting for its moment to swallow him up whole.

Please God; please don’t let me die like this, por favor Dios… Please.

One Month Prior...

Frankie had decided he needed to get away a few days after the break up.

The pressure was crushing him from every angle, and he was looking for breaks in his employment schedule to take advantage of before the impulses took advantage of him.

As he scanned down the calendar on the fuzzy computer system screen, he noticed the trembles in his fingers once more and balled them away into a fist.

Living in a contented denial clearly didn’t serve any other purpose than causing more stress and anxiety in the long run, and those thick fingers of his twitched with temptation on the daily the more he was left to sit and dwell in those darkening thoughts.

He knows he should have severed that festering limb of his failing relationship a long time ago, would have saved Carla and he both the heartache of playing pretend, but evidently he hadn't the resolve in him to step up to the task in a long time.

Push came to a dramatic shove when he was back in New York, in the aviation workshop down by the docks; tinkering with engine and turbine parts. His hands greased up and calloused, when his phone rang on the work bench beside him.

Eddie’s name flashes up on the screen and Frankie knows he can’t avoid his sponsor for much longer.

“Frank. I’ve not heard from you, I’ve been worried.” Eddie's voice on the phone cuts into the steam rolling inside of Frankie’s ears as soon as he answers, preparing himself for a condescending verbal assault. “Are you doing okay, bud?”

An ex-addict himself, although heroin is his poison, Eddie is all that Frankie can only ever hope to aspire to be with regards to his sobriety. He makes it look so easy. Eleven years sober and Frankie’s measly six months already feel like a lifetime weighing him down.

A pillar in the local community, Eddie is admired and revered and has received various accolades with his gummy grin plastered in the newspaper and on the programme's website, and Frankie is always reminded how lucky he is to have Eddie supporting him at group therapy, as he nods like a zombie behind a polystyrene cup of watered down coffee that tastes like scum swilling around in the bottom of an engine.

He’d like to keep his own teeth though, whereas Eddie has gaps in his gums from the abuse of injecting on the streets for years. And Frankie knows he came close to being on the streets himself. Things took a particularly bad turn after Tom’s death and Frankie is still haunted by it nightly.

It got so bad that he blacked out. Took too much. They told him his heart had stopped. That was the first time Carla had seen him like that; up until then being able to manage the coke in secret binges to quiet the tornado of his mind.

It was also the first time he had to admit to having an actual problem.

He remembers coming round to the worried yells of Benny calling his name and slapping at his face until he was coherent, and Carla’s mascara streaked, red eyes regarding him like a frightened gazelle.

After he was discharged from the hospital, he promised her he would finally get help. Even if a part of him didn't really want to.

And yet he’s been inadvertently avoiding Eddie like the plague as of late too. His own successes marring Frankie’s inner turmoil and guilt at how his life has careened so far out of his control and into the shit-stained toilet bowl.

He lost everything; his friends, his job, family members even turned their backs on him. He still remembers the look of disappointment on his dad's face and that hurt more than he would ever let on. He had to pull himself out from the bottom of the gutter, and some days he just wants to throw himself back in there and be done with it all.

“Yeah, man. I’ve just been busy with work. I meant to call you sooner.” His tone is all apologetic, but there’s a chattering to his teeth that’s prevalent, despite him trying to quell it. His gums ache profusely and have done for days now.

“You’ve been missed at group sessions too.”

Frankie hangs his head in subjugation, even though Eddie can’t see it. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m okay-”

“Frank.”

“I promise. I’m fine.” Frankie sighs with a heavy gruff.

“You don’t sound fine.”

Get off my case, man. “Just tired. I’ve been posted on a few jobs back to back. Keeping me busy, you know how it is.”

“Listen, I'm glad you’re working so much. And it’s a great job, really. You’re lucky to have gotten it, what with everything you’ve been through-” Ah. There it is. The condescension. The pity. The ‘you’re so lucky’ speech. Frankie bites down on his lip and suppresses a growl. Hijo de puta.

“-But it would be really good to see you. Check in.”

Check up on me, more like. “Yeah.” Frankie scratches at the back of his head where the curled chocolate tufts fall out from under his cap and grow unruly at his sun-kissed nape. He should probably get a haircut soon. “I’m not sure when I can get the time off-”

“Frank. You have to make the time for your sobriety or your addiction will take more time from you. What I’d tell you, hmm?”

“I know, I know. I'm trying…” And he is. One foot in front of the other, asshole.

“You’ve got time for a coffee with me this afternoon. I know they don’t work you so ragged that you can’t grab thirty and a cup of Joe. What do you say?”

“I, uh-”

“Morales!” His name is called, echoing down the workshop and Frankie looks up, swallowing coarsely as he notices the rotund silhouette of his superior traipsing over to him across the mottled floor.

“Listen, I gotta go. Not supposed to take personal calls at work.” Frankie murmurs.

“Frank, wait-”

He hangs up the phone.

“Morales, you got a sec?” His senior retorts and looks over the work bench at the melee of wires and stripped metal parts.

“Dustin.” Frankie nods curtly. “Everything alright?”

“Peachy. Listen, you know choppers don't you? I heard Malik saying you used to be in the forces or something?”

Dustin regards him through the magnification of his glasses smeared with fingerprints that seem to glow under the dull strip lights. There’s damp patches on his beige shirt spreading from the underarms, and there's always a waft of menthol emanating from the gum he ceaselessly chews on.

“Yeah,” Frankie takes his cap off and runs his hand through his grease slicked curls. “I used to uh, fly.” He shifts uneasily on his feet.

“Air Force?”

“Special Ops. D-Delta Force.”

“Nice.” Dustin nods with raised eyebrows. "Got you one of those fancy military pensions, eh?"

“Not really.” Frankie rebuts as he glances away briefly. He wills his mind not to visit the memories.

"What rank were you?" Dustin enquires curiously.

"Captain. Aviation."

“Hmm. Makes me think you’re the right man then.”

“For what?” Frankie asks as he turns his concentration back to Dustin.

A man shorter and more rounder at the waist than Frankie is, with his own middle age spread starting to puff out of him now that he no longer has the daily, gruelling exercise drills, but a man that also took a chance on him when his applications were rejected time and time again. One that Frankie doesn’t want to let down, but knows somewhere along the line, he probably will. It's inevitable.

This job has been a lifeline, despite the long back and forth between the New York and Florida bases, pulling him out of a heavy routine funk, where he’d had nothing else to do except plug his nose with the white stuff. Now he chugs six shots of coffee on the regular to stay awake and alert.

He knows that he owes Dustin his life in some regards. And he’s trying so hard not to let him down. He’ll always be trying, for the rest of his damn life.

“Got a new base on contract that needs some birds fixin’ up. Couple of older models. Hawks, twin hueys. Stuff like that. Most of the guys here know shit about rotary blades.” Dustin explains.

“Military use?”

“Ex. They want ‘em for rescue copters now. Recycling. It’s a month long posting, maybe more work if you impress the seniors over there. Perhaps a permanent relocation. Can bump up your pay too."

“Where?” Frankie queries as he considers the appeal.

“Madagascar.”

“Wow, really? Shit…” Frankie says, still nodding. The appeal tweaks further at something within him.

“Yeah. All travel expenses in; you just gotta show up n’ fix the shit they can’t. You up for it?”

Frankie nods without hesitation. It’s not like he has anything keeping him here anymore now. Carla’s gone. Benny still hasn’t messaged him back. He’s convinced his dad has fully disowned him now...

“Yeah. Sounds good, actually.”

“Well alright. I’ll book you a flight. You’ll go next Wednesday on probation for a month. That work for you?”

Frankie nods so much that his neck now aches. “Works for me.”

“Good. I’ll sort your visa paperwork. Nice one, Morales. Or should I say, Captain.” He salutes with a weak two fingers as he turns on his scuffed heels.

“Thanks, Dustin.” Frankie grimaces.

Dustin waves behind him as he carries on back up the workshop leaving Frankie to mull over the horror of a burgeoning packing list.

“I’m glad you agreed to meet me. I’ve missed you.”

“Have you?” Jude asks tentatively, yet her arms are still folded across her chest like they were from the moment she'd entered this wretched place.

She hadn’t taken her coat off; she knew she wouldn’t be staying long.

“Yeah, course, babe. I ordered you a hot chocolate; extra cream. I know you like those.” Nate says with a buoyant grin.

“I also like not being cheated on.” Jude mutters and looks down at the hot chocolate with despair. Some of the cream has already melted and slid down the side of the mug leaving the foamy remains from its sad little death.

I don’t think I like hot chocolate anymore...

“I came here to explain. It’s not how you think it is-” Nate begins like he always does. Pulling out and smoothing down that well-rehearsed script.

“Really? How is it that your dick ended up inside her then? Did you trip and fall?” Jude remarks a little too loudly.

It stirs a quizzical look from a couple drinking from their coffees adjacent to them both. But she doesn't care. He’s embarrassed as he leans forward and hushes at her to keep her voice down.

She picks up her mug and slurps at the mess that does nothing to quell the anger or thirst. It’s already cold and it irks her even more.

“Why do we even come here? This place can never serve up hot, hot chocolate!” She exclaims, tossing the mug down clumsily on the table and slouching back in the chair in defiance. “I mean the clue is in the fucking name - hot chocolate, right?”

Technically it’s her own fault, dithering around outside, and deciding whether to actually come in or not, when he’d already got the two mugs on the table at that point. She’d watched Nate through the window for a while from across the sidewalk wondering why on earth she was giving him the chance to explain his inherent disloyalty.

He fiddled with his phone incessantly as he waited for her.

She observed him keep picking it up and checking the screen. He was a fiddler when he was anxious; one of those people who can’t bear a few moments without human interaction whilst she goes to the restroom, or gets another drink without him, and so resorts to hiding himself away in the virtual world in the palm of his hand for distraction from his lonesome visibility.

She resented it now, whereas at first it was endearing. He had a lot of endearing traits in the beginning. Now she wondered if it was the other woman he was tapping out a message to on the keypad, or the harem of other women that hung around him like a bad smell, whilst he was waiting for her to arrive and meet him to just talk, he had said.

Which was code for berating her unremittingly until she folds like a deck of cards and she comes back home again.

Jude knows she’s a chump for agreeing to it. But he had hounded her so much it was always easy to give in and to type out okay fine! To get a moment’s peace from the barrage of false apologies filling up her inboxes.

It was so unfair of him to do this; to ask her to come to what was once fondly known as their place. She’d never be able to come in here again, although that wasn’t exactly a big loss considering they couldn’t serve her up a scalding fucking hot chocolate on a nippy spring day, right?

“I don’t want to hear what you’ve got to say, Nate. What you did is unforgivable and I’m not interested in hearing your lies anymore.” Jude says bitterly and not looking at him. She couldn’t look at him. If she did, he’d dig his claws in all over again.

“I never meant to hurt you, babe.” Nate says with his fingers clamped around his own mug. Lie.

“Yes you did,” she swallows. “If you didn’t, you would never have fucked her, or any of the others.”

“I’m sorry.” He lies again like he’s a skilled craftsman at it; they just tumble out of his mouth with ease. His first word was probably a lie too.

Try as she might, the sordid images present themselves to her again like they have done ever since. It’s like a vile replay that won’t relent, a bit like clicking onto a harmless website on your work computer and explicit porn ads flash up and won’t close down no matter how many times you click the exit button, whilst your colleagues behind you think you’re a sordid kinkster into hardcore anal.

And she lives in that moment over and over again and has done for the past few days since it happened.

And now she’s here; sitting in this café opposite him and allowing him to spoon feed her more lies and excuses as her cheeks fill with the toxic mush.

And she swallows them all down, gorging herself on them until she vomits and shits out his words all over herself again and again, and she’s not sure why she’s allowing him to do it; she isn't sure of anything anymore.

Nate’s voice rouses Jude’s attention back to him and out of that continual fuzzing loop. “I’m sorry.” He reaches for her hand on the table and she snaps it back, fearing that if he touches her that will be it - she’ll be hooked again.

The stark reality of the conversation - or rather the words he had just fired lazily at her - starts to sink in and it’s somewhat a hard feat to comprehend. For a moment, it stops everything in its tracks as though the world has stopped rotating around the sun on its axis, and people are frozen on pause midway through drinking their coffees or taking a step forward towards the cash register.

“You’ll always be sorry, Nate.” Jude pushes the hot chocolate away from her and back towards him. “But it doesn’t mean a fucking thing.”

He’s become a stranger in front of her very eyes. Gone was the hand holding and laughter to be replaced by indifferent scowls and thoughts of imminent murder.

She stands up quickly, knocking the table slightly. The last of the cream that’s holding onto dear life on the rim of the mug slides down it like the fluffy remains of a dying snowman.

“Please-” Nate stands up with her and reaches for her hand once more, but she snatches it out of the way and shoves it into her pocket.

Why is he fighting for this when he clearly doesn’t give a shit?

“No Nate. We’re done. It’s over; for good this time.” Jude reaffirms and something inside her gives her a proud high-five.

She pulls her scarf tighter around her throat. Perhaps if she strangles herself with it, it would feel better.

“But I love you!” He protests and it cracks her open like it always does.

He said he loved you, Jude.

He even said it after the unfaithful act; probably more than he had ever done so before he was caught with his pants down.

Does she love him though, really love him? Was he the man that she wanted to wake up with every morning and go to bed with every night, for what, the rest of her life? Because that’s a long, long time. She has to be sure, right?

Jude’s head becomes swamped full of all the good memories, right back from the beginning as though she’s flicking through an old photo book of their time together. And, of course, it's utter agony.

She’d imagined what Nate would be like as a full time, fully committed boyfriend when she’d first met him through a mutual friend during a rare night out. Oh yeah, she’d considered the fantasy of it; walking down the street hand in hand with him and curling up on the couch after a long day, him rubbing her feet until she would be woozy with the relaxation of it all.

She’d played out the dating scenario in her mind over and over again, to the point where it was on the cusp of escaping her mouth and firing the omission at him that she really did like him and his cute butt, but the fear of rejection prevented her from ever saying it out loud. That and the fact his bad boy reputation preceded him.

She worked away a lot, a successful, yet hard slog of a career as a landscape photographer for a popular tourism company, and with freelance work topping up her bank balance on the side, Jude was never home much as a consequence to seeing the world through a lens.

But Nate asked her questions about her travels with a twinkle in his eye and he couldn’t possibly like her like that, no way. He was never preferential to her, laughing with the other women in their group of mutual chums and flirting openly with anyone with a pulse, including her. It was just his niche, a personality trait that meant no harm.

He was slightly older, needed a robust woman and she was just a silly thing; drowning herself in gloom filled thoughts about how he could ever desire her like that. She was a nomad, her, her camera and backpack with no real roots. What could she offer him beyond that?

Coupled with the pieces of his personality that irked her and would crop up and shove themselves in her face; it made her double think that actually she was probably better off staying single.

Like the way he would drench his hotdog in layers of mustard on Labour Day and it would be dripping down his chin and in his teeth when he spoke to her through sloppy mouthfuls. Watching mangled pieces of chewed meat churning around his mouth like they were tumbling in a dryer wasn’t exactly an attractive trait in a man.

The way that he would bite all the skin off of his bottom lip until it bled when driving and then spit it out, so tiny, minute pieces of his body, alongside dust and umpteen Dr Pepper cans would be found in the foot well of his messy Camry. Jude hated that whenever she would get in it, she had to fight with a suffocating onslaught of burger wrappers and empty coffee cups in order to get a seat.

That’s not to say he was all bad; Nate’s unapologetically good looking with a smile that starts in his sky blue eyes and breaks out fully on his face, lighting it up like the giant Christmas tree outside the Rockefeller Center every year, and she likes that she always manages bring it out of him with her quips and stupid jokes, even when he’s tired and grumpy.

He’s generous, sometimes too generous, with his friends and with her alike, and he loves his dog Casper unconditionally, and talks to him like he can understand the dog’s growls, and yaps back at him like Doctor-friggin’- Doolittle before he lets the pup make out with him after licking his butt.

But fear of the unknown and trepidation about breaking away from the usual, the expected and the comfortable status quo that was her life, was somewhat harder to do than envision. Plus throw in the innate fear of rejection and she has an emotional Molotov cocktail ready for self-destructive disaster.

But then he changed it. Nate came in and messed it all up and asked her to be his girlfriend, asked her to move in to his fashionable loft on the Upper East Side; asked her to marry him. It was a cruel, callous joke because not long after that Jude caught him cheating for the first time - that she knew about anyway.

Fool me once, shame on you.

He blamed it on alcohol; one to many yadder, yadder. She meant nothing, babe honestly. Just a stupid mistake - I love you.

Those three, little, well executed words were enough to have Jude come scarpering back to him. And for a while things were rosy again. Until the next time it happened.

Fool me twice, shame on me.

And the time after that. And the time after that...

“Don’t call me again.” Jude warns him with a disgusted side glance as Nate shrinks back into his seat.

She marches out of the café and makes her way back out into the street towards her beat up car, unable to feel the cold air of the Big Apple nipping at her skin - unable to feel anything really, but sheer, drowning panic.

Now what?

To be continued...

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camatchoum · 4 months

Text

Not so dramatic, after all

Willy Wonka x reader

Request : Hi I have a request for a wonkaxreader!! Could the reader really be into theatre like all they ever want to do is perform but once they get an audition and it goes horrible and they are crushed?? @macmonster09

Summary : You have your biggest audition today for a play that you love, but you are incredibly nervous. A certain chocolatier tries to help you with that, but it's doesn't really go well.

Words : 4.0k

Warnings: angst, fluff.

My masterlist

Today is the day. Today, you have THE big audition. The one that is going to change your life forever.

Since you are a little kid, you want to work in theatres. Your grandpa took you to see Romeo and Juliet when you were only five, and from that moment, you knew you wanted this to be your life. He always used to say that he knew Shakespeare. He was one of his best friends. When you were little, you believed him, but as you got older, you knew he was kidding, but you always laughed. You loved your grandpa so much, and you thank him every day for giving you the love of the theatre. You hope that one day he will watch you perform on the biggest stage of the world. You know he is not there anymore, not on earth anyway, but you always thought that he was watching you from the stars.

Today, you have an audition for the new play of your town's theatre : Romeo and Juliet. You were always too afraid to actually go to an audition. Well, you always walk to the theatre but then get back home at the last minute. But when you saw the title, you knew it was a sign from your grandpa. You had to pass the audition this time.

You are on your way to the audition. You are incredibly nervous. You have a strong grip on your bag as you are running. It is snowing outside, so normally you would have walked to be careful. But you were so overwhelmed with stress that you got out of your house late. So now you have to run.

You run inside the Galaries Gourmet, the theatre being on the other side. You curse when you see all the people in the way, and they don't seem to be moving. You try to slip through the crowd, repeating sorry's without caring if the person you push actually heard you. You need to go on the other side. You are moving forward with your goal, the only thing going on in your mind.

It was really the only thing you could think of because you didn't see a cane going right into your chest, causing you to fall with a scream. The man with the cane immediately stops what he is saying with a gasp and goes at your rescue.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry. Miss, are you okay?" The man asks you as you try to stand up again, but you slip and end into his arms. When you look up, you see that this man is probably your age, with curly brown hair beneath is high hat. He also wears a big purple coat. That is an interesting choice of colour. You blink when you see the man's lips move.

"I-I'm sorry what?" You stutter, and you can feel your cheeks burning. You are clearly embarrassed, and on top of that, this man is really good-looking. You are afraid you were passing for a dumb girl, but he only chuckles.

"I asked you if you were okay? I'm sorry I didn't see that you were in the way. I should be more careful with the cane." He says sweetly before he looks at you, and his eyes widen. He immediately let you go, and you can see his cheeks turn a little bit red. "I-I-I'm sorry it was just a re-reflex." He stutters too, thinking he was in the wrong here.

"No, don't worry about it. If you didn't catch me, I would have probably fallen again, so I'm actually glad you did it." You day, causing him to smile. "Thank you..."

"OH, I'm Willy Wonka, chocolatier. Would you like to try some..."

"I'm Y/n. I would love to but I don't have this kind of money." You say sadly.

"Nonsense miss Y/n. This one is free." He hands you a chocolate. You are about to take it when you remember a tiny detail. Your eyes widen.

"Oh my god, I need to go." You take your bag that was still on the floor before you start to run.

"Wait! You forgot to taste my chocolate!" You hear Willy Wonka scream before you see him running right next to you.

"I'm sorry, I really need to go." You don't stop running, Willy, neither.

"Where are you going?"

"I have an important audition today at the theatre, and I'm already late. I'm so nervous I could puke right now."

"I have the best thing to give you for that." Willy says with his eyes full of joy.

"What is it?"

"Can we stop running first. I'm not exactly an athletic guy."

You decide to stop. You aren't an athlete anyway, so that is actually better. You both catch your breath before looking at each other. You are both taking big breaths. This made you both chuckle.

"Ok, so what is it? An advice?" You ask.

"I have much better." He says so excited. He takes his suitcase and opens it. You see a lot of colourful vials that seem to have something special inside each of them. You watch as he starts to mix the content of a few vials before he pushes on a few buttons. His suitcase starts to make a lot of weird noises. You are wondering if this is a good idea. What if he is trying to poison you? Maybe you should escape while he wasn't looking. You still have to go after all, and you don't want to die.

But before you could think about getting away anymore, Willy stands up with a big smile. You think it can reach the stars.

"I present to you the Never Sad Chocolate. I'll find a better name later. A chocolate with a drop of a double rainbow, a point of glitter because glitters make you happy. And just a heart full of Belgian milk chocolate because chocolate alone makes you happy." He says with such excitement while putting the famous chocolate in your hand. "I promise you that you'll couldn't even think of being sad after eating this."

You eye him suspiciously, but his eyes are so full of light that you decide to eat it. You pop the chocolate in your mouth, and it is ultra delicious. You can feel happiness flow inside your veins and full filling your heart. And before you know it, the corners of your lips start to go up. You are smiling so much that it hurts. It's like all your stress washed away.

"Oh my god, that's so good. I feel so good." You say with excitement too. "Thank you so much, Mr Wonka."

"Please, call me Willy. And it was nothing, really. I'm happy you appreciate it."

"Well, I still have to hurry, so I should go now. But thank you so much, I feel so happy!!!!" You beam causing Willy to chuckle. You start to walk in the direction of the theatre.

"Come tell me how it happened!" Willy calls to you.

"Promise!" You scream back.

With your new confidence, you walk with determination to your audition. You are going to break it. When you arrive, you tell your name to the woman at the front desk and then wait for your turn. You aren't feeling anywhere near nervous at the moment. You are just patiently waiting, rehearsing in your head how you are going to act and all.

"Y/n Y/l/n" a woman calls out your name. You stand up and walk to the centre of the stage before looking at the three judges before you. "We are ready to see what you have to show us." The woman says. "Good luck."

You thank her before going to your position. You start to act one of the happy scenes in Romeo and Juliet. You are doing really well. The judges are impressed with the way you act and the way you adapted the role to suit yourself. They think that you are a one of kind artist who could mesmerised the audience. They are all falling for your charms. When you finish the scene, you are proud of yourself. Proud for doing it. You hope your grandpa would be proud of you. You turn to hear what the judges have to say.

"That was the best audition I ever saw in my entire life, Miss Y/l/n. Your smile is so contagious that we couldn't stop smiling." A judge says. You are so happy right now.

"Thank you so much." You answer.

"We would like to see you act a sad scene because this role doesn't only represent the happy side of the story. Whichever you would like. We really want to see the tears and the desperation on your face. Got it?" Another judge says.

"Okay no problem."

You go back in position. You started to think about sad things. Normally, it helps a lot when you want to make tears, but right now, it's like you can't even think of one bad thing in your life. You push this aside. It's okay, you tell yourself. You start to act, trying to put as much sadness in your voice. You try to transfer your desperation to the judges, but all that is escaping your mouth is a joyful voice. The lines are sad, but the way you act, it's like you couldn't even care. You try again and again, and again, before taking your hands, putting them on your cheeks to try to stop smiling. You can't. You just can't. Every time you push your cheeks down, they go up immediately. You can't stop smiling.

The judges are starting to eye you like you are a weirdo. One of them starts to cough a little to stop the awkwardness of the situation.

"I think we are going to stop here, miss Y/l/n." One of the judges says. "I'm sorry, but if you are not capable of acting on a sad scene, then we can not give you the role."

"I agree with him. Your happiness was really beautiful to watch, but this one scene. That was a disaster." The second one says.

"Yeah, try to work on this part, but right now, we can't accept this." The third one finishes.

You are still smiling. Of course you are. You say a small thank you before you grab your bag and run out. As you are walking to the Gallerie Gourmet, you feel your cheeks going down. The tears finally start to fall. Why now?! You don't know what happened. You know how to act sadness, you've done it a lot of times in your room. What you don't know is why you just couldn't stop smiling. Of course, they wouldn't give you the part with the way you acted like you were living in the ocean with a beautiful mermaid tail. It was like you were having a glittery rainbow spilling out of you.

A rainbow... with glitters... a felling of cosiness only brought by chocolate...

I promise you that you can't even think of being sad after eating this.

Willy the freaking chocolatier Wonka.

When the realisation hit you, you arrive inside the Galeries Gourmet. You can see a crowd from where you are and you know exactly who is at the centre of it. You walk angrily to the curly boy before you tap on his shoulder, causing him to turn around.

"Y/n!!! How did it go?" Willy asks with excitement. He knows it was something important to you. But his smile drops when he looks into your eyes. Don't get him wrong, when he met you earlier, he was mesmerised by the beauty of them. But right now, when he looks into these two perfect diamonds, all he can see are puffy red eyes full of tears.

"Not so well if you want to know." You answer him angrily.

"Oh. Why is that? My chocolate didn't work?" He stretches his neck. He is a little uncomfortable with the way you are talking to him. It is like it is his fault that something went wrong.

"This. Is. Your. Fault!" You stab him in his chest with your finger.

"What?! How?!" He exclaims. He doesn't want to be the reason for your pretty face to be angry. Wait, what?

"This is all because of your stupid chocolate! I couldn't even act like I was sad!"

"Oh, so it did work. I was afraid for a moment that I had to review the recipe of this one. So that's great, actually? I told you you couldn't be sad because of it." He says with a smile. You calm down immediately. He is so innocent you don't even know why you are trying to yell at him.

"Yeah, well, think for a moment. If I can't act sadness, how can I get a role where you have to be sad from time to time?" You take your bag before leaving in the direction of your house.

When he sees you leave, that's when it hits him. Willy didn't understand at first how the fact that his chocolate worked was the problem. But now he does. He feels so bad for ruining your audition. It must have been something really important to you from the way you are crying. When people begin to ask him for help to buy his chocolates, he is brought back but not really either. He is not this joyful man anymore. He is just a ghost. He can't stop thinking about you. Not that it changes really because when you left for your audition, you were all his mind could think of. He couldn't even think of chocolate, and THAT is new. He doesn't know how he is feeling with you, but he does know that he wants to see a smile on your face. He wants to be the one to put a smile on your face, not be the reason why you are so sad.

He decides from that moment that he is going to be the one who fixes everything. He first goes to the theater, then he goes in the direction he sees you leave. Yes, he left his travel shop like that, but not before he heard Noodle yelling at him to come back so she must know that he left and that she has to take care of it. He wants to run so that he has a better chance to catch you, but he stops at the fountain when he sees a curdle up figure. It is you. You are probably crying. He approaches quietly before sitting down next to you.

"What do you want?" You sob, breaking his heart.

"I want to say how sorry I am. I understand now how it is my fault that your audition didn't go well." You don't look up at him. "What's in your hand?" He asks when he sees you fidgeting with something.

"It's.. it's something from my grandpa." You hand it to him. He takes it.

"A ticket?"

"Yeah. Romeo and Juliet. It's the first play I ever saw. My grandpa took me with him, and I instantly fell in love with the theatre world. I passed the audition today for the same play to make my grandpa proud." You sob again. You take the ticket back from his hands. "I guess he will not be proud of me after what happened."

"That's nonsense. I'm sure he will be proud of you at the end of the day."

"He will not. Don't you understand? This audition was my chance to do what I love for a living. It was my only opportunity to show people the beauty of theatre while doing the thing I love the most. It was my dream. My whole life is over now."

"My mom used to say that a dream is the start of great ideas. You can achieve anything if it starts with a dream." He says sweetly, a tiny smile on his face. He missed her so much.

"That's beautiful. She is very wise."

"Yeah, she was."

"I'm sorry. My grandpa used to say that he would watch me from the start when I broke the dramatic world." You chuckles sadly. This brought Willy back from the nostalgic place in his head. He smiles and stands up abruptly. You look up at him curiously.

"And you are going to break it today." He gives you his hand. "Come with me, I have a surprise for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Just trust me, please." You give him a look. "I know, the last time you trusted me, I ruined everything. But this time I promise you are going to love it." You ponder for a moment before you take his hand.

You both start to walk in the opposite way from your house, returning back to the Galeries Gourmet and the theatre. You feel your cheeks burning when you remember that his hand is still in yours. But you don't say anything in fear that he will take it back. Not so long after you arrive at the theatre and before going inside, Willy moves so that he is in front of you. From that moment, you can observe his green eyes. They are really pretty.

"What are we doing here?" You ask.

"I may or may not have convinced the judges to give you another chance." He answers with a giddy smile.

"You are kidding, right?" You begin to smile too. "They let you do that?"

"No. At first, no." He zones out a little. Like he was thinking how he was crushed when they said no to his request. "They didn't believe me. But, I gave them each the same chocolate that I gave you, and when they saw the effects from it, they decided that you deserved another chance."

"Oh my god. Thank you, thank you, thank you." You say with excitement and hug him. You can't stop smiling, and you are glad it's not from his chocolate this time.

"As much as I like this, we really need to go inside. I told them we would be back in five, and it's already been like twenty minutes." He really doesn't want to let you go. Having you in his arms brings him a new feeling that he already felt like it is intoxicating. But if he doesn't let you go right now, you will still be sad. He doesn't want that.

"Oh my god! Why didn't you tell me earlier?!" You scream with joy before you take his hand and go inside.

When you are inside, you fast walk until you are in front of the judges again. You both excuse yourselves for the wait. You give your bag to Willy before going on the stage while he goes sit on a red velvet seat behind the judges.

"So miss Y/l/n, here we go again." One of the judges starts to say with a smile. "We were all really impressed with your acting earlier. The happiness part, obviously."

"What he means is that we are very eager to watch you again." A second judge says. "Since Mr Wonka explained to us what happened, we want to see more of you."

"Thank you for this new chance. I appreciate it greatly." You say before you go into your world.

You prepare yourself, but the stress starts to eat you again. You open your eyes to see Willy giving you thumbs-up. You smile be he can see that you ate still nervous so he points to the ceiling. You are confused, but look anyway. What you see is a fake sky full of starts. The stars. Your grandpa. You look back at Willy with tears in your eyes. You aren't filling sadness but with happiness. Your grandpa is with you right now, taking all your stress with him.

And so you start to act the sad scene. You are fully crying but not to the point where nobody can hear what you are saying. To Willy's eyes, you are perfect. He is so enhanced with the way you move, the way you act, the way your lips move. If someone were to punch him in the face right now, he wouldn't even do something about it. He wouldn't move his eyes from your figure. He doesn't even know when it stops until he hears the judges applause. He immediately stands up and claps hard his hands, too. It's so hard that one of the judges coughs a little to make him stop. He excuses himself in embarrassment, but when he sees you chuckle, his smile doesn't go down. But right now he wants to hear the resulst. He feels like he can't contain his nervousness. He really wants you to get the part.

"I can say Miss Y/l/n that this is one of the best acting I ever saw. We really could feel the desperation and all the emotions."

"I think we can all agree that you are very talented and we can't pass that. We can't take the risk of having such talent getting away from the scenes."

"Miss Y/l/n, we have the pleasure to tell you that you got the part."

You are exploiting with joy. You start to cry happy tears again. You try to thank the judges, but nobody can understand what you are saying. And clearly, nobody cares. They all have an idea of how you must feel right now. You freaking got the main part in a Romeo and Juliet play!

You get off the stage to shake hands with the judges, thanking them again before you go to Willy. You both walk to the door, and right when you are outside, Willy takes you in his arms, spinning you around.

He can't contain his happiness and you neither. He finally puts you down but doesn't let you go out of his arms.

"I'm so proud of you! You were so perfect. You are so talented." He says with a big smile.

"Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you."

"You do know I'm the one that ruined it, right?" He says, and you both chuckles.

"Maybe at first. But you got out of your way to give me another chance. Nobody would have done that for me." You say, and he blushes slightly.

"When you'll become famous, I hope you'll remember me."

"I don't think I'll ever forget you." His heart stops for a moment.

"You'll come perform at my shop?" He looks into your sparkly eyes.

"Of course, it will be my favourite stage to perform on with the best public."

"I don't think I want to let you go."

"Then don't."

You take him back into your arms, not wanting to let go of him either. You want him to be in your life forever.

And that's when Willy knows that you are not getting away anytime soon. And he can't wait to pass all this time with you. He couldn't be happier. He wants you to be in his life forever.

--------

And that's it guys. Hope you enjoyed. I love the movie so much it is now one of my happy place I think.

#timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet #timothée chalamet fanfic #timothée chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet x y/n #timothée chalamet x you #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #willy wonka fanfic

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mystic-writings · 4 months

Note

request: Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn’t help but steal it for female!reader x hasan xxx

i've been thinking about this a lot recently ngl i don't know how i haven't written it yet so thank you for the request anon ily | also it does get like. a tad bit steamy toward the end but it's just making out tbh

his clothes | hasanabi x fem!reader | ~850 words

There were many perks to having a giant for a boyfriend. Being easily lifted from the ground for no reason was one of your favourites, and so was the fact that when you cuddled, Hasan either squished you completely or his arms secured you to his chest with a firm comfort you’d never experienced. But the best one was his clothes.

Hasan was a fashionable guy, but he did own a fair share of t-shirts and hoodies. A lot of them were his merch designs, or things he’s owned forever, but somehow, all of them were extremely comfortable when you wore them.

Since Hasan streamed so frequently, and you normally didn’t have much to do, you’d resort to getting things done around the house to keep yourself from going crazy. So far, you cleaned the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher with last night’s dinner mess, and cleaned the living room and the bedrooms. Quickly, you took Kaya outside to pee and fed her lunch, scratching the top of her head before going to the laundry room to tackle the load you put in the dryer this morning.

It was all a mix of yours and Hasan’s clothes, since you sorted all of it by colours, whites, and darks. Staring into the basket of clothes you pulled out and were now folding was like looking into an abyss. Most of it was yours, leggings and hoodies and socks. But a few items were your boyfriends. Including his himbo gym shirt. Even just holding it up to fold it, you could tell it was huge.

Then, an idea sprouted in your mind, one that you couldn’t resist. Peeling off the shirt you were wearing, you threw on the one in your hands. Instantly, you were swimming in it, the hem of it nearly reaching your mid-thigh. If you chose to wear shorts instead of black leggings this morning, they wouldn’t have been visible under the shirt.

After that, you continued with laundry, folding it and bringing it all upstairs to put it away. Once it was done, you took some time to decompress with Kaya, watching tv with her head on your lap, sleeping peacefully. Faintly, you could hear Hasan shouting upstairs; whether he was grilling chat or yelling about whatever he was covering, you didn’t know. It quieted just as you headed to the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

Checking your watch as you unscrewed the cap, you realised that Hasan was probably taking the ad break. And as if your thoughts summoned him, you could hear his footsteps clamouring down the stairs, headed right to you.

“Babe, do we have any more of those chocolate protein bars left? I’m starving-” he stopped himself short at the sight of you, practically drowning in his shirt.

You smiled at him, screwing the cap back on your water bottle. “We should, I saw some in the cupboard last night.” When you noticed Hasan still staring at you, your smile widened. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just-” Hasan seemed to shake out of his stupor. “God, you look amazing in my shirt.”

You giggled as he approached you, hands instinctively resting on your hips as he pulled you closer, towering over you. “I was doing the laundry and it just looked so much more comfortable than the one I was wearing,”

Hasan sighed and leaned into you, forehead resting on the top of yours as his eyes shut. “God, I love you. You know that?”

“I think I do. Might need some reminding, though.” You spoke quietly, keeping the words between the two of you, as if anyone else could hear.

Hasan was quick with his actions, instantly capturing your lips with his. There was no denying the passion and love he poured into the kiss, which quickly turned into peppering kisses all over your cheeks and jaw. With his hands still on your hips, Hasan guided you to the counter, pinning you there gently as his lips travelled to your neck and your hands into his hair.

You often treasured moments like these, when Hasan wasn’t afraid to show his love for you in any capacity. Even if the moments happened often.

But it didn’t take long for you to remember what he was supposed to be doing instead of this. Tugging his hair, you brought Hasan’s lips back to yours, muttering between kisses. “As much as I love this, and I really do, aren’t you supposed to be streaming?”

He groaned between kisses, unwilling to go back to his office to actually work. “I know, I know.”

Slowly, he pulled away from you, and you stifled your giggles at his appearance. Still, he reached into the cupboard behind you for a protein bar and watched him jog his way back to his streaming room.

The chat surely bullied him for his flushed cheeks, his swollen lips, and dishevelled hair. There was no doubt, though, that Hasan would have better comebacks than they did. And to him, it was entirely worth the few extra minutes he kept his chat waiting.

#hasanabi x reader #hasan piker x reader #hasanabi drabble #hasan piker drabble

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helloalycia · 2 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

one / masterlist / wattpad

summary: when you find yourself in a situation where you want to kiss Jackie, you're not sure you can make the first move. A fact made even harder when Nat is there to tease you about it.

warning/s: none really.

author's note: here's part 2! hope you like it whilst i sort through a ton of wips lol

I nodded along as Taissa was telling me about a colourful bird she'd seen earlier. We were eating some deer stew together outside the cabin, with the other girls settling down for dinner too, and it was basically a five star dinner with what we had out here.

"It was so pretty," Taissa finished. "And I swear it was following me."

I tried not to laugh. "Tai, I think you might have officially just lost it if the highlight of your day was a bird following you."

"Oh, shut up!" she said with a laugh, smacking me on the arm.

"Hey, don't take it out on my dinner!" I said lightheartedly, clutching my bowl of stew tightly with my one good hand.

"Idiot," she mumbled, but was smiling still.

"Hey, guys," Jackie said, joining us. "What did I miss?"

"Tai here was telling me about a pretty bird that wouldn't stop following her," I said with an amused smile, and it wasn't even an attempt at teasing her, but she nudged me again anyway.

"Quit it!" she warned, before giving Jackie a look. "It was so cool, Jackie."

"She's lost her mind," I told Jackie as she sat down opposite us with her dinner.

Jackie chuckled as she let Taissa tell her the story, and I stayed quiet as I heard it again. After Jackie gave her surprisingly positive input that didn't make fun of it, we all finished dinner and were about to get up together when Van called for Taissa, wanting her for something.

"It's okay, you go, I've got it," I told her, holding out my bowl. "Just put yours here."

"Thanks, Y/N," Tai said with a smile before stacking her bowl in mine, then looking to Van. "I'm coming!"

Joining Jackie, the two of us walked to the washing up area together when, suddenly, someone – I think it was Javi – ran past me and made me stumble backwards into Jackie. I bumped my broken arm in the process, making me curse as I inhaled sharply at the shooting pain up my shoulder.

"Watch where you're going!" Jackie yelled after Travis, who was running after his brother for God knew what reason.

"Come here," Jackie said softly, leading me to the steps of the porch of the cabin to sit down.

She took the bowls from my hand and set them to the side before leaning down before me, her hazel eyes searching mine worriedly.

"You okay?" she asked.

I breathed out slowly, trying to imagine the pain leaving my body, but the abruptness of the shove had hurt pretty bad. "Yeah, I think so."

She sighed, shaking her head. "They're jerks."

"It's fine," I said dismissively, knowing it was an accident.

She frowned, eyes flickering between mine, and I was forced to look away because I hated the sudden attention, my cheeks flushing at it. After what felt like forever, she grabbed the bowls from beside me and stacked them in hers.

"I've got this," she said, squeezing my knee comfortingly before standing up.

When she walked away, I let out a quiet breath of relief, not realising how nervous I'd been. So maybe this crush thing wasn't so fun anymore.

—

With crushing on Jackie meant wondering if she even liked me back, a question I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to. Sometimes I'd feel like she did, whether it be her lingering glances or ability to make me flustered, but then I'd second guess it as her personality and feel stupid for even considering otherwise.

For example, one time I was playing cards with Coach Scott when the blonde found me, asking to join in. So, we let her and played a few rounds of Go Fish before coach's leg was hurting and he left to take a nap.

"You wanna play acorn soccer?" Jackie asked with a playful glint in her eye.

I chuckled at the immediacy of her question. "Sure, why not?"

As we packed the cards away and left them on the side, I glanced around, noticing a few of the other girls were free.

"Should we ask the others?" I asked Jackie before we headed off.

She pretended to consider it. "We could... or we could save the hassle and just stick to us two?"

"Jackie!" I scolded lightheartedly.

"What?" she played along, flashing me a smile. "Someone's just gonna complain and then they'll spoil the fun. I like when it's just us."

I sighed, but gave her a small smile. "Fine. Let's go."

She grinned and led the way, and I had no choice but to follow her. It warmed my heart to know she enjoyed our time together too, but it was also one of those moments where I couldn't tell if I was seeing more into it than there was.

Luckily for me, I received an unbiased opinion on the matter without even asking for it. After Jackie and I played some acorn soccer together, we returned to the cabin before dinner and Jackie left to go catch up with Shauna. As I hung around to help with the fire, Nat found me.

"Hey," I greeted her with a smile. "You just come back from hunting?"

"Uh-huh," she said, before studying me curiously. "I have a question for you, Y/L/N."

Intrigued, I nodded encouragingly. "Shoot."

She knitted her eyebrows together with curiosity. "Since when did you and Jackie become so friendly?"

I shrugged, tossing some wood into the fire.

"Ever since she's been hanging out with you, she's been... nicer," she decided. "What d'you do?"

I gave her a disapproving look. "She was never mean, Nat, c'mon."

Nat weighed it up. "I guess, but sometimes she could be a real b–"

"Nat!" I smacked her arm gently, making her laugh.

"Look, all I'm saying is that girl is different," she said, motioning to the blonde who was chatting with Shauna, thankfully not in earshot of us. "And she definitely likes something about you."

"What can I say? I'm pretty likeable," I said jokingly.

She smirked knowingly. "Not like that, Y/N."

I lost my smile as she left me to it, wondering if she was right. I'd always thought it, but maybe if Nat was seeing it too then I wasn't going insane?

—

A few days later, I was helping Mari to hang some wet clothes on the washing line we'd strung up when something caught my attention.

"And where've you been?" Van asked someone, and I wouldn't have been intrigued if it weren't for the nonchalant response.

"Nowhere," Jackie replied, clearing her throat.

Curious, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Jackie returning to the cabin from somewhere or the other. The strange bit was seeing her clothes a little dirty, earth staining her denim shorts and white shirt. It was very unlike her to be so unkempt and dishevelled, from the mess of her hair to the mud on her nails. As the only one of us who seemed to actually still care how she looked, this was very out of the ordinary.

"Seriously?" I asked, reading Van's thoughts.

Jackie shrugged, wiping her hands on her shorts before heading around back, no doubt to wash off. I exchanged confused looks with Van before resuming with my job. Weird.

—

Struggling to sleep was something that hadn't really gotten better as time went on. You'd think it would considering it had been a month since we'd crashed here, but it was quite literally a hit and miss to whether I could actually fall asleep or not. And even then, at most, I'd get around five hours.

Tonight wasn't any different, and I was getting tired of the tossing and turning and forcing my eyes closed, so I accepted defeat and got up from my spot to sit in front of the fire. It was getting a little chillier in the air, the nights a little colder, and I feared what would happen when summer was over. But I tried not to overthink it right now, instead watching the wood burn a hot orange, embers crumbling off in the fireplace.

I sat there, hoping I'd succumb to fatigue soon enough, and then ten minutes passed and I heard movement from behind me.

"What are you doing?" It was Jackie, and she was yawning as she took a seat beside me, blanket hugging her.

Feeling bad, I said, "You don't need to–"

"Are you in pain?" she asked, waking up some more as she studied my expression.

"No," I breathed out, to which she relaxed. "Just couldn't sleep. Did I wake you?"

Another yawn, this time she tried to stifle it, and she shook her head. I wasn't stupid though, a frown on my lips.

"You can go back to sleep," I reassured her, in case she felt any moral obligation to be here.

Sly smile on her lips, she tilted her head to look at me. "Eager to get rid of me?"

I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips, and she chuckled quietly as to not wake anyone.

She nudged me with her shoulder, taking on a serious approach. "What's up?"

I stared back at the fire, finding it easier to tell the truth when I wasn't looking at her. "Just a lot on my mind."

"Like?"

Sighing quietly, I said, "This. My arm. Being rescued. It's been a month, Jackie."

She fell quiet, exhaling softly. "I know."

I wasn't sure why, but hearing the defeat in her voice only confirmed my fears – that we might be stuck here forever. Frowning, I looked down at my arm, remembering the day we crashed. The day everything broke down. The last day of our old life, but the first of our new one. How depressing.

"I had a dream about a cheeseburger last night," Jackie suddenly spoke, surprising me at the randomness of her comment.

"What?"

"Yeah," she continued like it was normal, nodding, "it was fresh from the grill, had cold lettuce, pickles, onions, tomatoes, that really good burger sauce with the bits of pickle in–"

"Jackie," I stopped her.

She looked to me, confused and almost offended that I'd interrupted. "What?"

Bizarre, that's what she was, and it made me laugh. Worried I'd woken up the others, I looked around, thankful that everybody was still fast asleep, and looked back to Jackie with a stifled smile.

"What are you going on about?" I asked her in a low voice.

The fire was casting shadows across her face, making the glimmer of gold in her hazel eyes shimmer as she spoke. "There were fries too. Hot and crispy and perfectly salted."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, though smiling. "Now you've just made me hungry."

She laughed quietly, looking to the fire with approval. "Better than sad."

My smile didn't disappear as I admired her profile, the curve of her jaw, the soft smile imprinted on her face, her hair that was still messy from being asleep. I could have watched her forever, sat there like that, but then I noticed something stuck in her hair. A remnant of a leaf or something.

"You've got something in your hair," I said in a hushed voice, and she lifted a brow as she glanced at me.

"Huh?"

Figuring it was easier to get it out myself, I leaned forward and used my fingers to gently remove the leaf from behind her ear. She stayed still as I did, then I flicked it in the fire before looking back to her, realising she was watching me closely. It could have been the quiet of the night, the crackling of the fire, the proximity between us, but I was amazed by her beauty, eyes taking in her whole expression.

I was close enough to make out the freckles dusting her nose, her earth-coloured eyes which were focused on mine, even the pinkness of her lips as she licked them subconsciously, making my heart race in my chest. It would have been so easy to lean forward, to close the gap and kiss her, but I was terrified. What if Nat was wrong?

What if she was right?

No, I wasn't bold enough to make the first move. If Jackie wanted this – which, the longer she didn't move away from me made me feel like she did – she'd have to do it. Like the wimp I was, I pulled back, looking away. She sighed as she looked back to the fire, and if I couldn't sleep before, I definitely couldn't now.

"Thanks for staying up with me," I said, "but you should sleep."

"So should you," she retorted.

"I promise, I'll try," I said, before standing up and returning to my bed.

She did the same, the two of us tucking ourselves in a few beds over from one another. My heart was hammering away as I laid down, thoughts of Jackie infiltrating my head.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

I swallowed thickly. "Goodnight."

—

If wanting to kiss Jackie Taylor one time wasn't bad enough, having Nat tease me was even worse. She never outright said anything to me since telling me what she thought that one time, but she was certainly enjoying watching me squirm. Especially one evening, when we were all settled around the campfire.

I had my blanket wrapped around me as I sat close to the fire, appreciating the warmth. It wasn't super cold out tonight, but it was comforting nonetheless. Nat was sat on my right, a space between us, and then Jackie appeared, glancing down at me with a smile.

"This seat taken?" she asked.

Before I could even answer, Nat glanced at me with a stifled smirk, and I knew what she was thinking which made me embarrassed all over again.

Trying to ignore Nat, I answered Jackie, "No, go for it."

She grinned and sat in the space between us, and I gave her the other side of my blanket which she wrapped around her shoulders. It wasn't huge though, and she was forced to sit a little closer, close enough for me to make out the smell of the perfume she still spritzed on every morning for a sense of normalcy. It was distracting, as was the feeling of her arm and leg pressed up to mine, and I willed myself to snap out of it.

Suddenly, some of the girls were cheering on the other side of the fire, and then I tuned in when I realised they'd agreed to play a game of truth or dare. Nothing like a typical dumb party game to get everyone's minds off being stranded in the wilderness, right?

Admittedly, it was a little funny going around the circle and watching the stupid dares involving the girls drinking moonshine and flashing themselves, or listening to the amusing truths about someone stealing money from their parents or lying on school tests. For a moment, it was like we really were just at a dumb party.

Then it was my turn to go and Mari asked me if I wanted to pick truth or dare.

"Hmm," I thought aloud, being sure to choose wisely. "I guess I pick dare. I mean, how bad can it be when I only have one working arm?"

"Wanna bet?" Van threatened playfully, a devilish smile on her face which made all the other girls laugh.

Smiling with amusement, I didn't doubt her ability to make a fool of me, broken arm or not. "Damn, truth it is."

Everybody fell quiet as they thought of something to ask, and I wasn't worried in the slightest until Lottie decided to speak.

"This is such a go-to, I'm surprised it hasn't been asked," she said with a chuckle, before looking at me. "Do you have a crush right now? Maybe a long lost love back home?"

My smile was still on my lips, though wanting to disappear as I blinked and became acutely aware of everyone's eyes on me, especially the blonde beside me who was very much the root of my crush.

"Nope," I said as convincingly as I could, making everyone groan at my boring answer.

I truly believed I'd gotten away with it until I looked to Jackie beside me as she was next, but instead caught sight of Nat's mischievous grin beside her. Swallowing thickly, I pretended she wasn't there and looked back to Jackie who was already considering her answer as Mari asked the question.

"Truth," she chose excitedly.

"Oh, I've got a good one," Van said eagerly, before fixing Jackie with a curious look. "What's the most disgusting thing you've done since being here?"

A few girls snickered, and I hid a smile as I awaited Jackie's answer. Everybody knew Jackie acted like a princess, so this must've been good.

Jackie thought about it for a moment, looking up in consideration, before she scrunched her nose with disgust. "Okay, nobody kill me," she disclaimed, piquing everyone's interest, "but I accidentally used someone else's toothbrush one time."

Almost instantly, everybody began to talk over one another, demanding to know whose toothbrush she'd used, but Jackie wasn't having it.

"I don't know whose brush it was!" she exclaimed, embarrassed and avoiding everyone's eyes. "I answered your truth and there's no follow up questions. Also, you should really keep your things out of the communal areas. Just saying."

I suppressed the urge to laugh as a few girls scoffed with disbelief. Jackie glanced at me, both embarrassed and amused, a smile on her lips.

"Okay, Nat, you're up next," Mari moved on. "Truth or dare?"

Nat leaned back on her hands as she answered nonchalantly. "Truth."

"I've got a good one," Shauna said, entertained smile aimed at Nat. "Who do you think has lied tonight?"

Everybody began to 'ooh' at her question, knowing it would be the start of some drama which we had so little of out here. I didn't consider it much, until Nat answered without missing a beat.

"Y/N."

I widened my eyes at her response, looking past Jackie and to a smirking Nat. Everybody was watching the two of us like a tennis match.

"What? Why?" I asked Nat calmly, not wanting to betray anything.

Nat only shrugged indifferently. "Dunno. It just can't be true that you don't have a crush."

I kept my cool as I said, "Well, it is."

"Maybe," Nat said, "but I don't believe it."

"Well, you're wrong," I said a little too quickly.

She laughed, unbothered by my defensiveness. "Okay. It's just my opinion."

My cheeks were flaming as I looked to the fire with embarrassment.

"Doesn't matter anyway," Nat added as an afterthought, enjoying tormenting me. "There'd be no way of you letting your crush know. It's not like they're here, right?"

I hoped Jackie couldn't feel the heat exuding from my skin as I sat there silently, distracting myself with my bottle of water and unable to respond to Nat's teasing. Thankfully, the subject was changed with the next person's turn, and I reminded myself to kill Nat later. She was enjoying this a little too much.

Once we'd gone around the circle once, it was getting late and a little nippy outside, so a few girls began to leave. Nat was one of them, winking at me playfully as she walked past, and just as I rolled my eyes, Jackie looked to me with confusion.

"What was that about?"

"Just Nat being Nat," I mumbled.

Unconvinced, she continued to stare at me with furrowed brows. "What was she doing earlier? Why did she say you were lying?"

"What?" I said, hoping to buy some time as I thought of a reason, because I definitely didn't expect her to say anything about it. "Oh, nothing. She was just trying to be funny."

Jackie licked her lips before pursing them. I thought she'd drop it, but then she narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously.

"Is it Nat? Your supposed crush?"

I almost choked on my spit. "What?"

Her expression softened. "Is that why she was teasing you? Because you like her?"

Shaking my head instantly, I said, "No, no. That's literally not it at all. If anything, Nat is a pain in my arse."

Jackie hummed quietly, looking back at the fire which was on its way to burning out. I exhaled with relief, finding it ironic that she thought it was Nat who I liked. Oh, how wrong she was.

"So, whose toothbrush was it?" I asked, changing the subject, knowing she was lying earlier.

She paused. "Misty's."

I snorted with amusement. "Yeah, she would've killed you if she found out."

Jackie smiled in agreement, hiding her laugh. I couldn't seem to look away, lost in her stunning profile, lit up by the fire. It was deja vu. Her blonde hair appeared golden, her eyes a kaleidoscope of green and brown, and her lips... they were pink and soft and I wanted to kiss her again, just like last time.

She suddenly turned to look at me, soft smile gracing her lips, and I was too warm in this blanket, our bodies so close that I wouldn't be surprised if she could feel the heat from my skin, a consequence of how nervous she was making me with a simple glance. All I had to do was lean in, but I couldn't.

"I think you're lying too," she muttered with amusement.

Dumbfounded, I asked, "What?"

She clarified, "About not having a crush."

I raised my eyebrows, making her chuckle quietly before patting my leg.

"C'mon, it's cold," she said, before standing up and leaving me with me the blanket, probably assuming I would follow her.

But I was too surprised at what she'd said. That was a hint, right? She knew? She knew I liked her?

Should I have kissed her?

—

I wet some scrap material in the lake, my only source for something cold in the wilderness, and carefully wrapped my broken but healing arm in it. It acted as a terrible ice pack, but I sighed with relief at the cool feeling.

It had been a month and a half since we'd been stranded, a month and a half since my arm broke. I couldn't be sure it was healing correctly, since it still hurt when I moved it and looked a little weird, but the swelling was gone and I didn't need to rely so much on the limited medication we had.

Still, I couldn't do everything I wanted to and I really missed having two working arms. Even now, as I looked out at the lake and saw some of the others swimming in the water, I was jealous. God, I was so bored. Even a swim would be nice, but I physically couldn't.

Instead, I took a spot by the shore and laid on my back, using my arm to shield the sun from my eyes and have a little nap. I didn't completely doze off, just enough to tune out my surroundings for a little while, but then I felt a shoe gently kick at my leg.

"Huh? What?" I asked tiredly, lowering my arm.

Jackie was stood above me, eager smile on her face. I hated the way the butterflies began to swirl in my stomach, all because the sun crafted her silhouette so perfectly. Stupid. Crush.

"I've got a surprise for you," she said.

I sat upright, rubbing my eye. "What does that even mean?"

"Come find out," she exclaimed, before grabbing my hand without warning and pulling me up.

"Jackie–"

"Close your eyes," she instructed with a suppressed grin.

I gave her a disapproving look. "Seriously?"

She shook my arm encouragingly. "C'mon! You're gonna love it. I hope."

Very curious and also still a little out of it from my nap, I decided to entertain her and closed my eyes. She didn't let go of my hand as she dragged me somewhere carefully. I wasn't sure where at first, but then the ground was full of grass and sticks, and leaves were skimming my bare arms the further she led me, and I guessed we were back in the woods.

"Okay, we're here," she said suddenly, stopping abruptly. "Open."

I sighed, opening my eyes and blinking a few times. We were at the usual spot we played acorn soccer in, and I didn't know what the surprise was, but then I saw it. It was some sort of goal or net made of sticks twisted together in an awkwardly shaped dome, about the height of my knee and the width of my outstretched arms.

"What is this?" I asked with an amazed smile, running forward to study it closely.

"You gotta have a target, right?"

I laughed. "This is sick, Jackie!"

She chuckled from behind me. "I'm glad you like it."

"Wait," I realised, turning around to look at her. "Is this what you've been doing?"

It explained why she would sometimes return to the cabin looking a little messy, but I never expected her to be building this. DIY wasn't really her thing.

"Why? You been keeping tabs?" she teased, crossing her arms.

I sighed softly, thinking back to the first time I'd said that to her. Funnily enough, in this very spot.

"You're such an idiot," I said, rolling my eyes playfully, before moving forward to hug her.

She returned it before asking, "Wanna test it out?"

I stared at her with an obvious look. "Duh!"

She grinned and we returned to our usual positions for acorn soccer, though this time we had an actual 'net' and it raised the stakes in the best way possible. I still couldn't believe she'd done this for me.

As I dribbled the acorn 'ball', throwing in some fancy footwork just to annoy Jackie, she put her foot out and I tripped over it, hitting the ground instantly. It didn't hurt, though was definitely surprising, but I thought it would be funny to make Jackie feel bad anyway.

"Ow!" I shouted, rolling onto my back and pretending to clutch my broken arm.

Her expression transformed into one of concern as she gasped. "Oh, shit, are you okay?! I didn't mean to–"

I pushed my foot out slightly before she could finish, easily knocking her forward onto the ground, landing right next to me with a thud. Laughter spilled from my mouth almost instantly, only increasing when she lifted her head to playfully glare at me, a dirt mark on her cheek.

"You asked for it," I said knowingly, before sitting upright.

I offered her my hand as she sat up too, legs intertwined with mine as she wiped her hands onto her shorts.

"Did I actually hurt you?" she asked, tilting her head towards me with a smile.

"You did not," I assured her with amusement, making her sigh with defeat.

"Not funny," she pointed out, which was hard to believe when her eyes were sparkling with anything but seriousness.

I snickered, before my eyes fell to the dirt mark on her cheek. "You've got a little something..."

Motioning to my cheek, she furrowed her brows and lifted her hand to her own to try and get it, but she missed.

"What?"

"Just right–"

"Here?"

I scoffed lightheartedly before using my thumb to get rid of it for her, wiping it away in a few swipes. I had to cup her jaw as I did, not even realising what I was doing until she exhaled softly and her breath dusted my lips. I paused, eyes flickering to hers, and that feeling came back, along with the nerves that always accompanied them. She looked between my eyes before hers fell to my lips, and mine did the same. I wanted to lean in, so so badly, but as usual, my body became paralysed with fear. Why was this so hard?

Like the wimp I was, I was about to let go of her jaw and pull away, ready to pretend this never happened. But she surprised me when she spoke up.

"Just do it."

I blinked, surprised, briefly meeting her half-lidded gaze, and that was all the confirmation I needed. Pushing away my fears, I finally leaned in, kissing her. She sighed into my mouth, moving her hand to the back of my neck to pull me even closer, and I had goosebumps all over at the feeling of her lips on mine. It was slow, long-awaited and wonderful, and I regretted not making a move sooner.

When we pulled apart, my heart was racing and I opened my eyes, only to be submerged in pools of hazel.

"Getting a kiss from you is like pulling teeth, I swear," she murmured, lips curving into a satisfied smile.

Flushing with embarrassment, I cleared my throat and let go of her. "Nothing stopped you from making the first move, y'know."

"And do all the work?" she asked rhetorically. "I left so many hints. I thought you would've taken them."

"I wasn't sure," I admitted, lips still tingling. She rolled her eyes teasingly, but I continued, "I couldn't be sure. Not with you. Not for me."

"You still sound doubtful," she noticed, smile fading a little.

I wasn't sure what to say because a small part of me still was. Accepting that Jackie Taylor had wanted me to kiss her was something I wasn't sure I'd ever get used to.

Suddenly, she kissed me again, brief but enough to have me second guessing my own name. When she pulled away, a knowing smile was on her lips.

"How about now?" she asked, and all I could do was swallow hard with warm cheeks.

She laughed before helping me up off the ground. We dusted ourselves off and then she held out her hand towards me.

"Let's head back," she said, and I smiled as I accepted her hand.

We walked back to the cabin, me personally feeling like I was on cloud nine because the girl I liked actually liked me back.

"So, the thing with Nat," Jackie brought up as we headed back. "The crush and the lying thing. That was about me?"

Oh, God, why was everything so embarrassing?

"Yes," I admitted reluctantly. "She was teasing me because she knew I wouldn't make a move."

This made Jackie chuckle. "She wasn't wrong."

I shot her a sideways glance. "Thanks for the reminder."

"Oh, c'mon," she said between laughter, "don't pout."

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "It's fine, don't worry. Let's just all laugh at Y/N because she couldn't kiss the girl, ha, ha, ha."

Jackie kept laughing, though I knew it wasn't out of spite. Besides, at least I'd finally made a move. That was all that mattered.

At least, it did for the next two minutes until we reached the cabin and I saw Nat sat on the steps, taking note of the two of us holding hands.

"And here we go," I whined to myself.

Jackie's smile, still on her face from the amusement of my inability to make the first move, faded as she glanced between Nat and I.

"Hey, Nat!" she called to the blonde, confusing me and earning her attention.

As soon as Nat looked our way properly, Jackie let go of my hand and kissed me, cupping my face between her hands and taking her time. I was so surprised when she pulled away, as was Nat, not expecting her to be so outright with it.

"What–"

"Anything to add?" Jackie cut me off, instead looking to Nat with a quirked brow that dared her to tease me.

Nat shook her head. "Not at all. Huh."

Satisfied, Jackie smiled sweetly and I was sure my face was hot with embarrassment. I probably should've seen that coming, but also, how could I have?

"Good job," Nat said to me as she walked past us, impressed smile on her lips.

I blinked, before looking to Jackie. "Erm, thanks?"

"Hey, she may have been right, but only I get to tease you about it," she said in a way that sounded like she was joking but I knew she wasn't.

I breathed out, small smile on my face. I may have been the shy one, but at least I had Jackie to rely on. It's not like I'd ever have to make the first move again anyway. The hard part was over.

#jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor imagine #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor #ella purnell #yellowjackets imagine #yellowjackets

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