#how she didn't realise she was going to hit these railings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seventeenpins · 8 months

Text

bloom

pairing: stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

word count: 5.8k

summary: part three of bad girl. you decide to go out on a tinder date. joel gets jealous.

warnings: joel is an asshole, stepcest, infidelity, oral sex, somnophilia (mentioned) unsafe piv, creampie, dirty talk, fingering, daddy kink, age difference (reader is late 20s, joel is mid-40s), a bit of dom/sub vibes, smidge of role reversal (really just two stubborn people being stubborn), multiple orgasms, romance almost????, joel is sad and lost and possibly in love but mainly just wants to be wanted (but is bad at talking about real things), maybe not edited as much as it ought to be--pls tell me if there are any glaring issues you notice

a/n: finally finally actually got this finished weeks after i was certain i'd be posting. thanks to @livingdeadmaria for the jealousy angle. kinda gets away from itself, but i hope very much that you enjoy. i can't begin to express how much i appreciate your thoughtful messages and comments and interactions 💕

these past few weeks had gone by in a blur and you're hyperaware of how quickly the time is passing. joel had been taking good care of you, fucking you pretty much any time your mom was out of the house, and a couple times when she wasn't.

after casually mentioning how you'd love for him to make you feel good every minute of the day, he had laughed.

"doubt you'd want me makin' ya feel good if you're not even awake to enjoy it," he'd said.

"are you kidding me? waking up to you playing with me sounds like a dream," you told him, and he stilled, swallowing deeply.

your mom would pass out heavily after a night of drinking, and when her snores started in earnest, joel would sneak into your room, lock the door, and wake you up by dragging a palm over your tits, pinching at your nipples, rubbing a finger along your pussy, all the while telling you how good you're doin', that you taste so fuckin' sweet, god you're a fuckin angel when you're sleepin', and the one that you heard him say right as you woke up with his fingers deep in your cunt and a hand on your breast, already all worked up, and you came instantly; "you'd better hush that goddamn mouth or i'll hush it for you, baby, you gotta be quiet for daddy or your momma might wake up and then daddy won't be able to make you feel good like this-"

so no, you weren't unsatisfied with your sex life. in fact, you were more than satisfied.

it scared the hell out of you.

you were waiting, you realised, for shit to hit the fan. for joel to get bored with you. to get too busy. to come to his senses.

and, after all, the summer would be over soon, and you'll be back to your usual life. getting absolutely railed by your stepdad didn't exactly seem like something that was sustainable, long-term.

the two of you had never defined this, but you decided you needed a palate cleanser. something that'd catapult you back into the real world. if you ended up with a disappointing hookup, so be it. most hookups were, and the pornographically cinematic sex you were having with joel couldn't last forever. hell, you expected him to file for divorce any day now, and the likelihood of having any kind of relationship after he'd gone for good seemed very low indeed.

and so you decided that it was unhealthy to focus on only one person, especially when monogamy had never suited you, and the one person just so happened to be your stepdad.

you'd never deleted tinder but you couldn't remember the last time you'd opened the app. at this point, you'd convinced yourself you kept it because you thought of it as a kind of sociological study -- you endured because it meant you got to examine the extremes of human behavior and it was absolutely fucking fascinating.

so you scrolled aimlessly, appreciating the change in the pool of people that was your hometown, but quickly cursing yourself when you saw that a former student teacher of yours had just super liked you. horrifying.

you stared at your phone screen--swiping left on almost everyone, adjusting your filters to include ages 25-50, and feeling wholeheartedly disappointed at what tinder had to offer--until one face popped up. you'd almost swiped left by default, but stopped yourself just in time.

it's your old high school boyfriend, connor. not your first. not your last. but the most serious you'd had throughout high school, and definitively one of the best sexual experiences you'd had before your twenties. you'd ended things on good terms before you each went off to college.

his entire profile, you decide, is an assortment of green flags containing exactly what you need; looking for short term fun. social drinker and 420 friendly.

he's got a couple of goofy pictures, but he's aged well in the past decade, and you'd be down to find out if he's as good a lay as you remember. no possibility of falling in love; you're both only in town for the summer, nor are you looking for anything long-term. and, you add on to your mental list of reasons, he was never a creep, nor a murderer, and though that's a very low bar it's still nice to clear it. you can work with this. you swipe right and it's a match!

your mom has a girls weekend planned that you think might actually involve her and her friends, and joel told you he'll be out all weekend for his brother's bachelor party, so that's when you decide to set your date. it's nice to have the option to bring a guy back home and not have to worry about any awkward situations.

it's a friday night and you are all dolled up. your dress is tight, your tits look amazing, and the bar is lively. tonight is clearly the night to be out. there's a celebration going on in the corner with an incredibly drunk birthday girl scream-singing along to the music. pool tables packed. a group of men loudly complaining about the friend they're waiting for who's always late.

it doesn't take you long to spot connor. he's there, looking surprisingly good, leaning against the bar. a flash of dazzling white greets you when he catches your eye, grinning.

"hey," connor calls over to you, "it's been a minute! you look great!"

he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and looks you up and down, eyes sweeping over the spill of your cleavage and cinch of your curves. you know you look good, and he knows it too.

"wasn't sure if this was still your drink," he tells you, passing you a mojito, "but this is for you."

"i can't believe you remembered!" you tell him--mojitos used to be your favorite-- "i usually go for something less sweet these days, but i still love em. thank you."

you take a sip and watch as he takes a big gulp of his beer. the condensation on the bottle drips down his thumb, a drop of moisture hanging on for a moment before falling. his arms are nicer than you remember, veins drawn in beautiful patterns, muscles tensing at seemingly the slightest movement.

yeah, you could fuck him.

he offers you a questioning half smile and you realise you've really just been staring at him, not sure how long for. "didn't realise how hot you'd gotten," you tell him, and he cracks up. any uncomfortable tension dissolves, and you relax into it. you're almost able to forget about joel miller.

you're having a great night. one drink turns to three and before you know it, you're on the dance floor, enjoying the sensation of connor's hands all over you--holding your waist, brushing your cheek, groping at your ass as you grind together, both of you hot and sweaty and feeling wonderful. you turn your face to connor and kiss him, hot and passionate, running your tongue along his perfect teeth. it's... nice. he lets out a little whimper, which you like, but where joel would've leaned in deeper, cupped your face, tangled his hands in your hair and growled into your mouth in response, connor pulls back and practically giggles. "you're so sexy, baby," he says, and that's all fine and good, but it's not as exciting as you'd hoped. it just feels bland.

but you've made the effort to come out, and you're not gonna give up just yet.

you kiss him again, trying to will a bit of passion into the exchange, but all of a sudden he's shoved aside by some asshole barrelling past and he's nearly knocked over.

"hey what the fuck!" connor shouts, and the person who shoved into him stops. turns to you both.

before you see his face, you know it's him. broad shoulders and a muscled back. patchy beard. great forearms. and his jaw is set in the most beautiful scowl you've ever seen.

"joel-" you gasp.

this wasn't part of the plan. why the fuck is he here?

then you notice the group of somewhat rowdy men in the corner, right in the direction he was heading. one of them calls over in his direction, and he holds up a finger before turning back to you.

this must be his brother's bachelor party.

connor looks between the two of you. "you know this guy?" he asks, and you nod. he turns to joel. "you need to watch where you're walking, man."

a muscle in joel's clenched jaw ticks as he stares him down, and connor takes a tiny step back.

"connor," you say, "this is, uh, this is joel. my stepdad. joel, this is connor."

"oh," connor says, "well, just be more careful next time. nice to meet you, man. joel."

he extends a hand, which joel blatantly ignores as he fixes you with a gaze.

"best be gettin' home, sweetheart," he says, tone colder than you've ever heard it before. you swear you can see a vein in his forehead pulsing. "it's getting late."

you raise your eyebrows. is he... mad? and if so, is this the best he can do? "joel, it's a friday night. i'm having a good time, and i'm gonna keep having a good time."

he stares you down.

"that alright?" you ask, a challenge.

he grits his teeth again and nods sharply, hissing out a fine, throwing one last glare at connor before he walks away rigidly.

connor frowns at you and you shrug, but you glance over at joel, watching him retreat.

now that you know he's here, at this bar, it's almost impossible not to keep looking over at him.

he looks strangely awkward over there, like he's trying to appear relaxed but is following a relaxation guide written by aliens. he's rigid. uncomfortable. a man clasps him on the shoulder (his brother?) and doubles over in a laugh, which he seems to join half-heartedly. you can see how he's holding his beer with a white-knuckled grasp. his shoulders have relaxed a little, but in a way that looks intentional. you're not sure if anyone else would notice, but you've watched joel a lot these past few weeks. you can see it. you don't know what that means.

as connor tells you all about his work, you catch joel looking at you, too. there are a few times your eyes meet and something would flash between you. if connor noticed that you were distracted, he didn't show it.

you're a few more drinks in, loose and warm, getting quite cosy, when connor's phone starts to buzz. he glances the name on the caller id and his eyes go wide. "i'm so sorry," he tells you, points at his phone, "a friend of mine's going through a hard time--i need to get this. excuse me a minute?"

"of course!" you tell him, and watch him head outside for some quiet.

it takes less than two minutes before you feel joel sidle up beside you. you know it's him before you even turn to look.

"hi, joel," you say, and he grunts in response.

you're silent for a moment.

"so," you try again, "you wanna tell me why you look like you've been chewing a lemon?"

he frowns. "huh?"

"sour," you supply.

he rolls his eyes.

"don't like seein ya with that boy."

"oh really?" you ask, "and how is that any of your business? has he offended you in some way?"

he shrugs. "just don't like it."

"i'm gonna try again, joel. what's your fuckin problem?"

he huffs out a breath. "a fuckin' kid like that's just tryin' to get his dick wet."

"i should hope so," you scoff, "that's kinda the point."

"seriously?" his voice drops to a lower register, "am i not takin' good enough care of you?"

"no, joel, it's not-"

he cuts you off, "hush, girl-" and despite the quiet of his words, now you notice the slight slur to them. "cos how i remember it," he tells you, "just a day ago you were cryin' my name, ridin' my cock."

you feel your face heat, but he keeps going- "would you let that boy fuck you raw? huh?" he doesn't even give you a chance to respond. "guess you really do take after your momma, huh? mother's a whore and her daughter is too."

"fuck you joel-"

"worst mistake of my fuckin' life getting mixed up with all this shit- with you-"

rage surges through you, shoving aside any embarrassment you felt earlier, and before you can stop yourself, you slap joel across the face.

the impact breaks something that's been building and you both reel back, deflated. you stare at each other for a moment in shock and silence. the place your hand made contact with him starts to bloom blotchy red.

joel rubs his jaw with his palm and winces. "okay, i deserved that," he huffs.

you soften just a little, "you did deserve that."

"i shouldn't be talkin' to ya like that," he groans, chastened, "not your fault. i've had too much to drink, i think. gonna stick with water the rest of the night."

"can we call a truce for tonight?" you ask. connor could be back any moment now and you aren't gonna do any of this in front of him. but as unreasonable as joel's being, you don't wanna hurt him. your anger has all but dissolved and you just want peace.

"sure," he says, "truce."

you smile, half-hearted.

"so, big bachelor party, huh?" you ask, nodding at his group still in the corner.

"hah," he breathes, "yeah. can't believe my little brother's gettin' married."

"which one is he?"

joel points. "over there. the one in th' button-down, currently double fistin' his beer."

you roll your eyes. "no wonder you're so fucked up. must run in the family," you say pointedly, and he knows he's not off the hook for his earlier jibe.

a pause.

"so, who is this guy?" he asks, and he notices you tense. "no, no, i'm not gonna- be more of an asshole."

"good."

"so?"

"his name is connor. we dated back in high school. just seemed like a safe option for a hookup. no strings, any of that."

joel hums. grimaces. "seems a bit young for you, hmm? you seem to like your men old and grey, not bright eyed and bushy tailed."

you snort and roll your eyes, "oh, fuck off."

the moment falls between you.

"look, joel. i don't know what- this is between us." you gesture between the two of you, "like, it's not... sustainable. i know that. you're married to my fuckin' mom, and that's not even touching our age gap."

he sighs. "yeah. i know."

"so, what is it you want? from me? from this?"

he huffs out a breath. "truth is, i don't know," he admits.

"well, you sure as fuck had better figure it out

"he finds out his wife's cheating on him, he fucks her daughter-"

"hey, don' say it like that-"

"-and then gets jealous at the thought of her daughter fucking someone else."

"hey now-"

"am i wrong?"

silence. an awkward cough.

"no," he concedes, "you're not wrong. and i don't know what this is, but i do know what i want."

"and what's that?"

"you."

you stare at one another. he leans towards you, his voice gravelly, barely above a whisper.

"i want you to forget all about that boy. i wanna make you feel good, as much as i can for as long as i can. i wanna make you come on my tongue, and my fingers, and my cock. i wanna hear you scream my name-"

your breath hitches and you can almost taste the whiskey on his warm breath as it tickles your cheek. joel's hand is gripping your arm now and the grip is a comfort.

of course, that's the exact moment connor reappears.

"hey, there, sorry it took so long! really glad i picked up-"

you and joel pull back, and mostly manage to pull off looking casually friendly, but connor misreads it entirely and looks between the two of you.

and then he turns on joel.

"get off her ass, old man," he hisses, "she's an adult, and you're not even her dad! she can stay out if she wants to!"

joel stares at him, wide-eyed, startled as hell, and you do your best to stifle a laugh at the idea of joel being your actual dad. yikes.

"it's okay babe," you reach out to connor, patting his arm to soothe him. "joel and i were just catching up. is your friend okay?"

his eyes dart between you before he tries to catch up. recalibrate.

"uh, yeah-" he says, "yeah he was having a hard time but i think he's doing better now."

another glance to joel. back to you.

"so, uh-" he ventures, tentative, "do you wanna get out of here?"

if it hadn't been for joel turning up at this bar, you'd say yes in a heartbeat.

but you know for a damn fact that isn't gonna happen now.

"ah shit, connor, i'm sorry. i'm feeling a bit off tonight, and i think i should call it an early night."

"oh."

"i'm really sorry, it really was nice to see you."

connor sighs, nods, and then flashes you one last dazzling smile.

"you too," he says, and leans in to press a kiss to your cheek. "take care of yourself, yeah? and if you ever wanna meet up again, just let me know."

you nod and watch as he walks away.

it's only a moment later that you feel joel's hand snake around your waist and hold you close to him. it's familiar and lovely, the callouses that trace across your skin.

'i think," you tell him, "you should tell your group you're heading out soon."

he looks over at the group and one of them waves at him with a confused expression on his face.

"and then i want you to meet me in the bathroom. single stall at the end of the hallway. don't make me wait more than ten minutes."

joel's mouth goes very dry very quickly, and he nods almost too eagerly. his pupils are blown and you can't get enough of the bead of sweat that rolls from his temple.

"good boy," you tell him and he gulps. turns away from you and back to his group.

you walk towards the bathrooms and catch his gaze and a brief nod as you walk by him.

you feel exhilarated. goosebumps prickle up and down your arms and your stomach flips in an excited swoop. you've inadvertently just swapped roles. you didn't tend to take the lead, at least not in this way. if anything, you tended to beg, please daddy, please fuck me.

after you close the bathroom door behind you, you take a moment to collect yourself. you adjust your hair, smooth out your dress, and wait.

a few minutes pass, and then--a knock at the door. three gentle raps; a rhythm you know so well.

you open the door, grab him by the collar, and pull him in.

he practically squeaks as he's pulled through, but then you're pressing him against the door and he melts under you. he lets out a long, throaty groan as your tongue drags along his jaw, your hands slapping his out of the way as you undo the buttons of his shirt and rake your nails down his chest.

"gonna put your money where your mouth is?" you ask. his brow furrows. "gonna make me feel good, daddy?"

"yes-" he moans and devours your mouth in a kiss. pulls away, breathless, "what do you want, baby, tell me--"

"mouth. and fingers."

"god yes-"

before you have a moment to react, he hikes the skirt of your dress up and backs you up against the sink. "get on up, baby," he says, and you do, hopping up onto the sink with your skirt around your waist and your panties on full display, damp and translucent with your slick. you lean back against the mirror and joel grabs at your thighs, spreading them wider apart.

when he sees how wet you are, he lets out a strangled moan. "jesus christ, honey-" he says, and drags his forefinger along your slit, through your panties, "you're gonna fuckin' kill me."

then he looks at you with those dark, beautiful eyes. searches your face. then drops to his knees.

he starts by mouthing against your panties, just his lips at first, but then he starts to lick and suck at you, sucking your slick from the fabric.

"cute panties," he tells you, and then he's got his fingers hooked on the waistband and pulls them down and off you, helping to lift your hips.

then, when they're off, he wraps them around his hand, buries his nose into his fist and inhales deeply.

"fucking hell, joel-" you breathe, and he turns a little pink, grinning sheepishly. fuckin' joel miller sniffing your panties. how is it that that's the hottest thing you've ever seen?

he doesn't liger too long, though. before you know it, his big hands are grabbing at your thighs again, holding you open. then he's tracing a fingertip along your cunt. prodding in, just a little. pushing your folds open and looking at how messy you already are. sloppily scissoring his fingers, opening you up

"needy little thing, huh?" joel asks and you nod.

leaving his fingers inside, he pulls the hood of your clit back with his thumb and leans in to kitten lick it. it leaves you writhing, but the grip of his other hand on your thigh helps keep you in place. he pulls back, just a little, and spits on your pussy. rubs it in with the thumb, giving you the most lovely pressure, extra slick exactly where you need it.

pumps gently, leaning back in to start licking you in earnest. after a few lazy pumps, he hooks his fingers in you and starts pressing into you with more speed, more urgency.

he pulls back for only a moment and you can see that his moustache and his bottom lip are glistening with your slick. he opens his mouth to praise you, telling you those perfect sounds you're makin' are drivin' me crazy, honey, love how you let daddy know just how good he's makin ya feel, that's it, don't hold back-

and suddenly you're coming.

despite the dullness from the alcohol, and the fact that you're propped up on a sink and just realising your back is smashed up against an uncomfortable knobby faucet--despite all that--waves of pleasure surge through you, hot and bright at your core, flowing across your entire body as you ride his fingers, practically sobbing his name.

your hips rock back up, forcing his fingers deeper into you, and he holds you tight as you ride it through.

for a moment, your vision is replaced with a million little black dots, but then the haze clears and you see joel kneeling in front of you, one hand with stilled fingers still inside you, the other, grasping your hip and holding on gently but firmly.

it takes you longer than you expected to come down from it, but after a few minutes you've gathered yourself.

joel's no longer fingering you, instead rubbing soothing circles to a sensitive bit right at the inside of your thigh. he's telling you lovely things, and you bask in the sensation of his closeness.. you notice his fingers feel funny, but you let out a giggle when you realise they're pruney from being inside you.

he notices what you're looking at and snorts. then thinks for a moment. decides.

"you got any plans tonight?" joel asks you.

"just connor," you laugh, and joel glowers, unimpressed.

"but no, this was much better. and i have no other plans tonight. got something in mind?"

he nods, and suddenly looks almost bashful. "i've got a hotel room. technically part of the bachelor party, but my room's at the opposite end of the hallway from the rest of the party."

you grin.

"i know-" he starts, "i know we hardly ever have a chance to sleep in a bed together. but this could be a chance. if you want?"

for the second time this evening, you grab him by the collar and pull him in for a kiss.

the hotel is really only ten minutes away, but it feels like about five million hours.

you're trying not to look recently fucked, and joel's trying not to let his enormous hard-on look visible through his jeans.

you both sit rigidly in the back seat of the cab. neither of you know if you're being too cautious, or not cautious enough, but you both want to keep whatever you're doing between just the two of you.

despite the distance, though, you can still feel the tug between you. you could cut the tension with a knife. it's only when you arrive at your destination do you feel like you can breathe again. you don't know how, but you know joel feels it too.

there was always the risk that joel's brother could, potentially, run into them in the elevator.

so, all things considered, it was a really, really stupid idea to fool around on the elevator ride to the tenth floor.

"think they have cameras in here?" you ask, and joel snorts.

"if they do, they'll be getting quite a show, huh baby?"

"yes daddy," you agree, and joel groans at your words, closing his eyes, his head tilting back to rest against the cool metal wall behind him. he feels you undo his zipper, unfastens his belt and the button of his jeans. then the wet warmth of your mouth is wrapped against the head of his cock and his groan turns into a shudder of absolute pleasure.

his pants are still up at his hips, cock hanging out impressively. you drag your nails along his thighs all the same, providing enough pressure so he doesn't lose sensation through the fabric.

his hands are tangled up in your hair as you pull his hips towards you, encouraging him to fuck your throat. he's getting frantic, when the elevator suddenly dings!

you break apart instantly and for a moment your stomach flips as you're certain someone else is about to walk into the elevator, but then you realise you've arrived at your floor.

joel composes himself, slicks his sweaty hair back and pulls his pants back up, pretending to ignore the enormous hard-on straining against the fabric.

"this way," he tells you, and you follow him.

any initial reversal of your usual roles becomes a rhythm of give and take. you're barely through the door before joel's grabbing at the hem of your dress and pulling it up and over your shoulders. unhooks your bra and tosses it to the floor.

he stands there and stares at you for a moment, mapping out every curve, every angle, every stretch mark. you're completely bare for him, your panties still in his pocket.

then he's on you, hands gripping your waist, your jaw, stroking over your breasts, fingers dragging over your bellybutton, cupping your pussy-- the sensation is overwhelming, almost too much. if someone told you he'd grown extra hands, you'd believe them; his touch is all over you.

"you feel so good baby," he tells you as his hands slide down to grab at your ass, "you sweet thing-"

you work at unbuttoning his shirt, shoving it off his arms. you pull off his belt, too, which he never rebuckled. shuck his pants down, drop to your knees.

but then he pulls you back up. "uh-uh," he shakes his head, "get on this bed right now for daddy. i wanna taste you while you taste me."

you scoot back onto the bed and lay down, your head near the pillows. joel walks around the bed and kisses you once more, deeply, and then he yanks off his socks and straddles your face.

"this okay baby?" he asks. his cock is thick and heavy and hanging against your cheek.

"yes, daddy-" you tell him, and move to take a tentative lick of his swollen head.

"good girl," he groans and stretches out. you grab his cock with one hand, gripping onto his hip with the other. you guide his cock in your mouth, relaxing and opening your throat just how you need to for this angle. the salty tang is perfect, and you can feel his body tremble.

then you can feel his breath on your abdomen as he trails kisses down and down and down and then his lips meet yours, his hands grip your ass, and he's pointed his tongue in the most delicious way as it flicks over your clit and then inside you. you're doing your best to stay focused on sucking his cock--you know he hasn't gotten off once yet tonight--but the sensation starts to build and build and build and it's all you can do to at least keep your throat open for him to fuck into as he brings you towards another climax.

he holds onto you as you come, as if any distance would cause you to disintegrate. you ride his tongue, dazed by the sensation, the brush of his beard, the way he's gotten loud and feral as he licks up the slick of your release. your thighs are wet, both from your own arousal and his spit, and as you come back to yourself, you know you need him to fuck you.

"joel-," you say, and he ignores you, continuing to lick at you.

"joel, please-," you beg, "need your cock so bad. need you to fuck me, to fill me up-"

he pulls back, "try again," and then dives in again.

"daddy, please!", you cry, and it comes out almost as a shout.m

"there's my good girl," he tells you, and swings his leg back over you so he's no longer straddling your face. he holds his dick and slaps it a few times on your cheek. "need this cock filling you up?"

"yes."

"better beg for it, baby girl."

you fucking love when he makes you beg, but you hate it too. he walks around the bed and then kneels on the foot of it. hooks his hands under your knees and pulls you towards him.

"need it, daddy. use this pussy, use me, please-" your begging has turned to whining, and joel's eyes are blown black, hard and beautiful as he looks at you.

"fill me up with your cum, take your pleasure from me, daddy, let me be so good for you."

in a single fluid motion, he yanks your knees up onto his shoulders and fucks into you in with a single long thrust.

you scream out, it's so much and so good.

"such a good girl, huh?" he asks you, cupping your jaw as he pounds into you. it's not soft, not languid, not gentle. he sets a brutal pace, his hips stuttering, cock ramming into you again and again and again. "sweet little toy for me to use, aren't you baby? keep that pussy open wide for your daddy, huh? so wet for me, you just wanna make daddy feel good, don'tcha?"

the sensation is too much, his coarse hair grinding against your clit as he fucks so deeply into you, sending sparks flying through you at the thought of it. he presses a palm into your belly, just below your navel, and the pleasure increases beautifully.

you've lost the ability to form coherent sentences, just "yes, yes, yes, so good daddy, so fucking deep, you're so big, such a big fuckin' cock, fuck!"

his moans have turned into strangled grunts, all his focus on getting himself off in you. you adjust your hips just a little and the angle allows him to press in just that little bit deeper.

"you love feeling me in here, don't ya?" he asks, pressing his fingers harder into your belly, pulling a moan from you you weren't expecting. his eyes flicker back to your face and his eyes crinkle, "takin' daddy's cock so nice."

then he moves his fingers back down to play with your clit again.

"gettin' close, baby," he tells you, "but i need just one more from ya. can you do that, pretty girl? come one more time on daddy's dick?"

you whine and writhe but you know you can--it's already building--and you tell him so.

"that's my good girl," he praises, his fingertips slick and teasing as he coaxes another orgasm out of you.

it hits you like a freight train, and suddenly you're spasming around him, sucking his cock almost deeper inside you, exploding with waves and waves of pleasure. you scream, and he lets out a strangled cry before he spills inside you.

it takes a few minutes before either of you move again. he pulls himself out gingerly, and you wince at the lack of fullness.

"took it so nice, baby," he tells you, and cupping a soothing hand over your pussy, being careful to avoid your clit or anything too sensitive. he pulls his hand away and looks at the mess on it, your come mixed together and dripping out of you. "so good for me."

then he kisses you, gentle, sweet and deep.

he runs a shower for the both of you and scrubs you both clean. it's possibly the most tender moment you've had with him, as he tucks a wet lock of your hair back, kissing you again as his softened cock presses against you and you let yourself savour the sensation of your bodies inhabiting the same space.

joel sorts through the linens and changes the sheets before you go to bed. it's unnecessary and oddly thoughtful, something you didn't really expect.

he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close as you snuggle in together. you can feel your eyelids growing heavy, but joel brings you back to him before you can drift off properly.

"you asked what this is between us. what i wanted."

you stay silent, waiting for him to continue.

"i-" he falters, "i still don't know. but i know that i care for you."

"joel-"

"and i know there's no place i'd rather be right now."

you let that sit for a moment. then turn and kiss him.

"go to sleep, joel."

"okay, pretty lady."

he pulls you close and you drift off in his arms.

#joel miller smut #tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fic #joel miller x reader #stepdad!joel

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lostbetweenvampiresandmusic · 5 months

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Hey! Could you do a Poly Lost Boys x reader, where the plot is like Happy Death Day? It's ok if you haven't seen it, the basic plot summery is "A college student must relive the day of her murder over and over again, in a loop that will end only when she discovers her killer's identity." I was thinking that the reader is the one going through the loop, and the boys try to help you (the only down side of that is having to tell them everything again, every time the loop resets)

If not that's ok!

Thanks!

I hope you like this!

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

I didn't dare to look backwards, running through the bushes. The masked figure just only came closer and closer, and I knew I had to make a decision quickly. Should I run further and end up at the cliff, having nowhere to go? Or should I turn around and confront him?

I didn't fancy taking a dive of a cliff, so I did the only thing I could do. I turned around. "What do you wa-" I coughed, blood dripping down my chin. Shocked, I looked at the masked figure, then down at my stomach. A knife had been forced into my skin, being twisted around, and then being pushed back in. "W-why..." I fell to the ground, seeing how the killer bent down, ready to stab me some more and-

Screaming, I woke up, jumping out of bed. My hand ran over my stomach, which was whole. There was no stab wound. There was no blood. There were no cuts from running through the bushes. I shivered, horrified. Had this been a dream? It - it had felt too real.

"Are you alright?" I practically jumped, only now noticing that Paul had entered my room. I didn't say anything as I wrapped my arms around him, trying to calm myself down.

"Babe?"

"Just a bad dream, I think." Paul didn't look convinced, and in all honesty, I didn't feel convinced either. As I got dressed, I tried to forget it. Still, the uneasiness I felt didn't go away, and when I went outside, they all knew something was off.

The weird thing was, I realised as I sat behind David, it felt like the dream had happened before. I sighed, happy that we had arrived at the boardwalk. There, between the music and the rides, the comfort of the boys and the fact that they did their best to distract me, I finally felt a bit of peace.

"Come on, the dipper has reopened," Marko grinned, pulling me along. He knew I hated the rollercoaster, but a while ago, I had sadly lost a bet. He had won and had demanded that when the coaster reopened, I would go on it.

"No, no, I don't want to, I hate rollercoasters." I looked at him, but he shook his head. "I'll be with you. You lost the bet, this was what I won."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Fine, but no complaining if I turn green or if I throw up ."

"I would never!"

"I remember differently," I said, a small smile forming on my face. Next time that we'd do a bet, I'd make sure to know what was at stake before agreeing. As much as I enjoyed living with the boys, when it came to making bets, they somehow always managed to win.

When the ride was finally over, and I had indeed turned the slightest shade of green, the boys had found their prey for the night.

"You can come along, if you want."

I shook my head. "No, I don't think I can keep my stomach controlled this time." He chuckled.

"Rollercoaster?"

"Lost bet," I shrugged, leaning against the metal rail. "I'll be fine. I'm just going to browse, I think."

"We can go later if you're still shaken from this morning," Dwayne offered, but I shook my head. "Go. I'll be fine, promise."

With that, they left to hunt, and I turned to the stores. There wasn't much new inside, and after deciding it would be more fun to go to the concert down at the beach, I left the boardwalk.

The music was good, some cover band playing the latest hits. The crowd was big and wild, and even though the nightmare I had this morning still plagued my mind, I was certain nothing would happen in this crowd. So, I joined in. I danced, sang along to the tunes I knew, and got swept away by the music until, in the distance, I saw a shape wearing a mask.

I froze. The masked figure turned to look at me. Only now could I see what it represented, some sort of clown like face. As the clownfaced figure looked at me and saw how frozen I was, it waved.

I didn't think. I turned around and ran. Through the crowds, over the beach, under the boardwalk - I ran and ran, and I could feel it stinging in my side, but I could not stop because he was coming after me. I knew, I heard him. I ran, and I stopped. I turned around, and then I was once again coughing up blood, being stabbed in the stomach. I fell to the ground, my killer leaned over me and-

With a scream, I awoke, and jumped straight out of bed. This - I had been murdered. I had been murdered, and now I was awake, alive and - Paul came in. If I hadn't known he would have come in, I certainly would not have noticed.

"No, I'm not alright," I said quietly, before he could even ask if I was. Paul frowned, hugged me, but didn't ask how I knew what he was going to ask. The first time I woke up, yesterday, I had been certain it was a dream. But, if I woke up today, and I remembered that I was actually killed - maybe the first time, yesterday, wasn't a dream either?

I got dressed and went outside, we went to the boardwalk, and once again, Marko tried to get me on the rollercoaster. I froze. This had definitely happened before. Everything that happened today had happened before.

"Not today," I said dsitracted, as Marko dragged me to the coaster. "Something is wrong."

"What is?"

"What day is it?"

"Tuesday. Why?"

"Yesterday was Tuesday. There was a band playing, down at the beach. They only play on Tuesdays."

Marko frowned, taking me back to the others. "What's going on?"

"This happened before. Everything. Which also means that at the end of tonight, I will be killed... again." I frowned. Was that why this was happening? Did I have to try to survive?

"What do you mean killed?" Dwayne looked at me.

"The dream I had? I was murdered. Stabbed, repeatedly. But it wasn't a dream. It was what actually happened, and then when I died, it was morning again."

"Who killed you?" Paul asked, which made me realise that they could very easily find him in 's crowd, right? If they found the guy before he killed me, then I wouldn't have to die?

"A guy in a clownmask."

David sighed. "You're not going anywhere alone, alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'd rather not get stabbed again, thanks."

This meant, obviously, that I had to join them while they fed. I drove with them to a distant bonfire, far away from the crowds, and waited by the bikes while they fed. Thinking about it, maybe being turned half would make killing me harder? Maybe that could prevent it from happening aga-

My eyes opened wide when a knife was pushed into my back. I screamed, stumbling forward. In the distance, I could hear Marko call my name, and then there was nothing.

With a scream, I awoke, jumped out of bed, and - horror came over me as I realised that once again I had been killed. "Paul? What day is it?"

"How did you know I was here?"

"What day-?"

"Tuesday, are you-?"

"Nope. Is everyone up, there's something I need to talk to you about."

There was absolutely no doubt about it, I was stuck in a timeloop, and every single time, it was Tuesday I got killed by a guy in a fucking clownmask.

"So, this has been the fourth time I woke up, and it is still Tuesday, and I don't know who is killing me or why, but I really want it to stop," I concluded my explanation.

"You're not kidding," Dwayne realised as he pulled me close. "Shit."

I nodded. It was shit, especially since I didn't quite know how to stop it.

"How long have you-?"

"This is the fourth Tuesday, and the second that I'm aware of the loop."

"What did we do yesterday, differently than the previous Tuesday?" David asked.

"I didn't go on the coaster with Marko, and I realised that I was stuck in a loop. I went with you when you fed, and then I was stabbed in the back."

"So even when we're with you, you got killed?"

"Yeah," I sighed.

"We can feed tomorrow. One of us will always be with you. Avoid crowds. Avoid going somewhere we can't follow. Maybe if you survive, the loop will be broken." I nodded, hugging David. "I hope so."

That night, I wasn't alone even once. We skipped the coaster, stayed on the edge of the boardwalk, and avoided the crowds. The only problem was that after having dinner, I realised that I needed to go to the bathroom. Paul went with me and patiently waited outside the stall door, making sure no one could get to me. When we left, we were surrounded by people. The concert at the beach had been over, and everyone went back to the boardwalk. I tried to reach for Paul's hand, but the crowd dragged me away. I tried to move my way back to him. He spotted me, was coming towards me, when suddenly horror crossed his face. I turned around and screamed as the knife was forced into my neck.

My hand shot towards my neck when I woke up, and I couldn't help but cry. Four times. Four times had I been killed. "Babe?"

"We need to stay here tonight, please."

"Kitten, what's going on?" David had entered as well. I told them again. Had to explain again how this was Tuesday number five, that I had been killed four times and that I was not only terrified but that I had no idea who was even doing this or how to stop it. Luckily, once again, they realised I wasn't lying - the benefit of having boyfriends who could hear your heartbeat, I thought quietly. So, that Tuesday we stayed in. But when they left to feed, something they decided on after agreeing that no one would find the cave, the masked killer appeared on top of the cliffs. I screamed, ran, hid, and once again, I failed.

It went like that for who knows how long. Every day, I explained it to the boys, and every time, we tried something new. And every time, I still got killed. I didn't know how many Tuesdays I have had, I didn't know who the killer was still - not that we hadn't tried to figure it out - and I was still dying every single day.

It was one Tuesday when I didn't even bother getting out of bed, and I decided that that was the next plan of survival. All those days, we had tried everything, but not one day had I stayed in bed. Once again, I explained, but the more I talked, the more I actually realised I wasn't feeling too great. When Dwayne stayed with me, after the others went out to get food, I realised why. Scars. My entire stomach was covered in scars, from all the stabbing I took.

Dwayne didn't say anything as he just held me, noticing before me that the boys had returned home. "We're in here," he'd yelled before making sure I was comfortable. It was then that my door swung open, and I screamed. The man with the clownmask was here. Dwayne jumped up, pulling the mask off, and - I didn't know who it was. The man was unknown to me, and still had he tried to kill me all these days.

"Who are you?" I asked, Dwayne standing in front of me.

The man just grinned. "Smith."

It happened quickly. David and the others returned, Dwayne and I both were distracted, and then I felt it again. The knife stuck in my heart as I fell down and everything went black.

"Smith!"

"What the fuck, babe?" Paul stood in the doorway, as I had once again woken up and it was once again Tuesday. "The guy who killed me, his name is Smith!"

Paul looked confused, but after so many Tuesdays, I had become very skilled in explaining that I was stuck in a timeloop. "The only problem is now, that I don't know who this Smith guy is."

"We do," Dwayne said, causing me to look up. "We killed his wife a while back. He has no proof, but he always thought we had something to do with it."

"So, if we find him and kill him before he kills me, then we break the loop, right?"

"I think so," David said, standing up. "We know where he lives."

"Alright, let's go," I grinned, stopping as I saw their concerned looks.

"He doesn't know where the cave is-"

"Marko, he does, I've been killed here at least seven times now."

"Shit."

"Yeah, honestly, the longest I've survived was when i was close to you four, so no way am I changing that up now."

The boys nodded, agreeing that I was right. That night felt different from the others. Somehow, I felt less fearful. We drove to Smith's house, Paul and Marko stayed with me as David and Dwayne entered, and within seconds, we could hear a grown man screaming. As they brought the body out, I froze.

"What is it? He's dead. You should be fine now," David looked at me.

"It's not him." I whispered, horrified. It was quiet for a moment when suddenly we all heard a snap. Someone had stood on a branch and broken it. The boys turned around before I could react, and Paul and Marko jumped into action. The man with the mask was here, grabbed by the boys. His mask was pulled off - and it was the same guy as yesterday. David had lifted the guy up, ready to tspear him a part, when in his last moments he threw his knife at me.

Smiths neck was snapped as I fell to the ground, crying quietly. "Not again... I dont-" The boys were next to me, Marko putting pressure on the wound, David taking the knife out. Paul had quickly improvised some bandages, and Dwayne kept me talking, kept me awake.

" 'm tired," I mumbled, feeling cold.

"I know, love."

"Love you guys," I mumbled before everything went black.

I woke up, crying out. It couldn't be - I didn't want to love through yet another Tuesday, I couldn't.

"Babe?"

"No, no, no, no, no, please-"

"It's Wednesday," Paul held me as I cried. "It's Wednesday, it's over."

"Wednesday?"

"Yeah," Marko and Dwayne entered.

"We killed Smith," Marko sat down behind me.

"Managed to save you in time," Dwayne smiled, giving me a soft kiss.

"How many Tuesdays did you have?" David stood in the doorway.

"To many. Way too many."

#the lost boys #marko #david #paul #dwayne #tlb #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #lost boys #david tlb #paul tlb #dwayne tlb #marko tlb #tlb x reader #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #timeloop #happy death day

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lovingmusicalmen · 1 year

Note

"Wh- so you did remember my birthday!" || "Of course I did. How could I ever forget?" with Jack Kelly?

This one's lowkey v cute! I hope you enjoy!

Still accepting blurb requests!

Fluff 21 - "Wh- so you did remember my birthday!" || "Of course I did. How could I ever forget?"

If you were to ask Crutchie, he would say that Jack was moping.

A claim that Jack himself would vehemently deny. Jack Kelly did not mope, though that didn't mean that he didn't occasionally feel a tad bit disappointed. Especially when his girlfriend avoided him at every turn and gave absolutely zero inclination that she knew his birthday had been coming up.

And, yes, perhaps that mild upset was showing through Jack isolating himself on the roof of the lodging house with only his sketchbook for company. If you were to ask Jack, that was the ideal way for anyone to spend their birthday.

So no, of course he was not moping, no matter what Crutchie and Race and whoever else had to say about it.

"Jackie? You up here? The guys said they saw you head up here."

Jack tensed up at the familiar voice floating up to where he sat sketching from his penthouse.

"Oh so you actually want to talk to me now?" Jack bit out before he could think better of it.

Okay, so maybe Jack was a little more upset than he wanted to let on.

"Jackie?"

He let out a long sigh, snapping his sketchbook shut and turning around to face his girlfriend.

Y/N stood at the edge of the penthouse, her arms behind her back. There was a nervous smile on her face, and she was bouncing up and down a little on her heels. Her clothes were surprisingly clean considering that Jack knew she had been working far harder than usual lately.

"Yeah?"

"I have something for you," she said, smile widening.

Jack raised a single eyebrow at her, refusing to let her words raise his hopes.

Y/N crossed over to him, moving her hands to her front to present him with two small parcels and a piece of card.

"It's not much - but happy birthday, Jackie."

Jack blinked at her, staring between his girlfriend and the gifts she was presenting him with.

"Wh- so you did remember my birthday?" Jack asked in mild disbelief. Y/N let out a quiet laugh, biting her lip as she nodded.

"Of course I did. How could I ever forget?" Y/N asked, her voice soft.

"But you've been avoiding me."

"I wanted it to be a surprise. And I've been taking a couple of extra jobs to try and save up for what I wanted to get for you."

"You didn't have to do that!" Jack hadn't realised he had stood up until he had already crossed over to her. He clasped his hands ever-so gently on her arms.

"Of course I did - I love you, Jackie! Happy birthday!"

Jack learned and pecked her cheek before accepting the objects in her arms. He couldn't help but laugh at the card - two crudely drawn figures on the front holding what Jack presumed were meant to be newspapers.

"Yeah, okay - we can't all be artistic geniuses, Kelly," Y/N huffed, pouting.

"It's beautiful. I'll treasure it forever, baby," Jack promised, swallowing back any further laughter that threatened to bubble up.

True to his word, he strode over to where he had tacked up several of his own drawings to the railings, adding the birthday card to the mix.

"Crutchie is going to think your artistic talent took a serious hit," Y/N snorted, and Jack turned around just in time to see her flop down onto the piles of old clothes and blankets which served as Jack's bed.

Jack just grinned at her, joining her on the bed and carefully peeling away the newspaper which wrapped the two parcels.

A single cupcake was revealed in the first box and Jack's mouth watered at just the sight of it.

"This must've cost a fortune,"

"You deserve a birthday cake, Jackie - not every day you turn 18," Y/N murmured, grabbing hold of his hand and giving it a quick squeeze.

"I love you," he said, tightening his hold on her when she tried to pull away and instead tugging her closer to peck her lips.

"Yeah, yeah," Y/N waved it off. "Open the other one. That's the real present."

"The real present?" Jack repeated incredulously. Y/N just nodded eagerly, eyes fixed on the scruffy parcel. Jack picked it apart carefully, his eyes widening as he revealed a brand new set of paints for him to use. "How the fuck did you buy these?" He whispered.

"I told you - I've been taking a lot of extra work," Y/N shrugged bashfully.

Jack didn't think twice before lunging towards her to pull her into a long, deep kiss.

#jack kelly #jack kelly x reader #jack kelly fanfiction #jack kelly imagine #newsies #newsies fanfiction #newsies x reader #newsies fic

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ellie-24 · 1 year

Text

USS Randall Ramblers

Writing prompt: What are we going to do with [blank]?

Sorry besties, I'm a bit late. @missmaywemeetagain @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love @vintageshanny

Summary: Mary didn't want to leave the US. Elvis didn't want to leave either. Yet, they somehow found themselves on the same ship steaming towards Europe.

Word count: ~4k

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Aboard the USS Randall, somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean. September 30th 1958

Mary pulled the blanket tighter around her body when another cool breeze mixed with icy sea water hit her face. She could taste the salt on her lips and rubbed her stinging eyes. After blinking a few times she resumed to watching how the full moon above her relected in the calm waves below her. She leaned foward, her numb hands slipping from below the rough fabric to tightly grip onto the even colder steel of the railing. Hearing the steady splashing of the water against the side of the ship had a calming effect on her troubled mind.

Being the daughter of an army officer meant moving around, never really having a place she could really call home. After eighteen years should reall be used to it by now. But leaving for another country, not knowing the language or the people at all, made her feel slightly nauseous. Mary took a deep breath and tried to focus on the rhythmic splashing of the water again.

"Afraid there ain't enough lifeboats?" A familiar voice suddenly called behind her.

She whirled around and winced when her elbow hit the railing. It took her a moment to realise who the silhouette in the shadows belonged to. It was him. With his hair clean cut like the rest of the army boys, the side burns that used to make every girl go absolute bonkers now shaven off. Disbelief flooded her mind like the cold, salty ocean water below her. This was the second time she ran into him this week. Or well, he ran into her. And the probability of that happening wasn't very high, she tought, recalling a conversation she had a few days ago.

Janet, a bubbly thirteen year old, and her friend Terry had exitedly sat down next to her, while she enjoyed a cup of coffee and read a magazine in the day room. "Mary, we missed him again! They said he was on the sun deck, but when we got there they said he just left!"

Mary raised her coffee cup to her lips, almost burning her tongue in the process and smiled at her. "...You have four more days, Janet. I'm sure there will be another opportunity."

"Don't you want to meet him?"

Mary put her magazine down and leaned back into the plush pillow of her seat. She just couldn't bear to tell the girls that their teen idol seemed to be rather annoyed by the officer's daughters ambushing him everywhere he went. At least that's what her father told her. "Oh, sure I would... But I'd be an awkward mess in front of him." She leaned over with a grin. "You ladies should be the ones meeting him."

Janet had giggled and turned over to her friend. "Oh, what are we going to do with him once we meet him?"

"I want to hug him! And I'll ask him for an autograph!" Terry exclaimed, clapping her hands in exitement.

"I want to take a picture with him!" Janet swooned.

"Maybe he'll sing for us!"

"That would be something, wouldn't it?" Mary had added with a fond smile and a good natured shake of her head as she watched the exited teen girls dance around each other, before darting out of the day room towards the deck again.

"You." She now stated, looking him up and down. He approached her, twirling the ring on his pinky.

"Me." he countered, still in his neat uniform, as he leaned against the railing with his back.

She let out a flustered laugh. "I'm not really concerned about the life boats. More about what's gonna happen tomorrow."

A wistful look overtook his beautiful features and he slightly inclined his head, as if nodding along. He hummed and drummed his fingers against the steel. Mary had seen this particular look two nights before.

She never thought that the fact that her father taught himself how to play the guitar during the war would lead to her dancing with Elvis Presley. But it did on that one evening, an evening where everyone on board craved entertainment, a distraction. Ski, the cheerful G.I. with the accordion, apparently organised the whole thing, asking everyone who could to play an instrument. Of course her father had stepped up and exitedly invited her, her mother and her brother to come to see him being part this very exclusive show.

"Elvis will be there as well, right?" Mary had asked a few hours before the mini concert was supposed to start.

Her father stopped rolling his cigarette and looked up to her. "Yes dear, I reckon he will be. Don't think he'll spend the night in his cabin." He answered with a light hearted smile.

She absentmidedly pulled at the sleeves of her dress. "Do you think I could bring some of the other girls? They spend their entire time here trying to accidentally run into Elvis." she chuckled.

"Oh, I don't know, dear. If everyone brought their friends there'd be a thousand people in the day room... I'm afraid it's not possible. You might want to ask Ski about that." he offered with a shrug.

She chewed on her bottom lip in thought. "No, it's alright, I don't want to cause any trouble." she hummed, a bit bummed out. "I guess I'll just have to get them an autograph or something. If I get the opportunity."

Later that evening a man named Charlie Hodge introduced himself and acted as emcee for the evening, her father stood proudly in the background with his guitar. She'd never seen him so exited and child like before, which made her grin widely, yet mildly weirded her out at the same time. But the weirdest thing during the whole show must have been the fact that hip-swinging Elvis the Pelvis, how the magazines called him, sat still at the piano, looking all prim and proper, not uttering a single word. He didn't even get introduced. She kept looking around in confusion, trying to figure out if she was the only one noticing this strange circumstance. Apparently she either was the only one or everyone just skillfully ignored this mystery.

It was then when she observed his gaze, she noticed he was seemingly a thousand miles away. His blue eyes weren't twinkling with mirth like they usually did when she used to watch him on tv. His full lips formed something that resembled both a permanent pout and a scowl. He looked so incredibly sad, it made her heart hurt. Maybe he just wasn't in the mood to sing, she reasoned. The recent death of his mother must still weigh heavy on him, the rare smiles and laughs this Charlie guy managed to get out of him from time to time never really reaching his eyes. It just seemed like he didn't want to be there at all. Mary wondered if she should approach him at all or just leave him alone. For now she chose to do the latter.

She busied herself cheering on her father as he supported the "USS Randall Ramblers", as they introduced themselves. Yet, she found that her eyes kept wandering to the raven haired man at the piano. His mouth kept moving, as if singing along, just for himself. When she looked down she saw his feet tapping on the creaky, wooden floor and his knees jiggling slightly as if he couldn't contain the movement even if he tried to.

She looked up at his face again and noticed that he was looking right back at her, their eyes locking. She stopped in her tracks, the music and laughter around her now sounding muffled and dull. Her breathing picked up under his intense gaze and she tried not to choke on her own spit when one corner of his lip lifted into a small half smile. She managed to smile back, though it probably looked more like a grimace and quickly averted her eyes again in embarrassment, feeling her cheeks grow warm. Out of corner of her eye she saw him shaking his head with a grin.

When the show was over many, including Mary and her family, still lingered, not wanting this light, merry atmosphere to fade into the not so fun reality. The people around her started carelessly dancing, singing and drinking and even her parents dared to join the other dancing couples, leaving Mary to sit alone with her little brother. It was then, thankfully, that Charlie Hodge approached her and held out his hand to her.

"Care to join me for a dance?" he asked with a, what she has to admit, was a rather cute smile. She skillfully ignored her brother snorting loudly next to her and slipped her hand into Charlie's with a smile.

"I'd love to." she agreed and he wasted no time to pull her along with him. Charlie was a rather small fella, her low heels caused her to actually be an inch taller than him, which she found kind of endearing. He was also careful to keep a respectful distance between their bodies, his grip on her waist light and gentle as he slowly twirled her around.

"Did you have a good time?" he asked in a loud voice, the music and laughter around them making it hard for her to understand him.

She nodded enthusiastically. "It was a great performance! Really, uh, I think we all needed that to be honest."

He smiled up at her. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Gotta do something on this ship to keep everyone's spirit up."

"It's horribly draining isn't it?"

"Especially for some of us." he nodded, his eyes briefly, involuntarily, flicking towards something behind her.

She looked up at him quizzically before turning her head with her eyebrows scrunched up, to see what he was looking at.

Elvis stood next to a table on the other side of the room with his hands on his hips, talking to another man. Well, the talking consisted of him dutifully nodding along, his eyes blank, and his expression neutral. Except for the slight raise of one eyebrow. If anything he looked annoyed and exhausted. It was as if he felt her gaze on him, his eyes moving away from the man in front if him and suddenly their eyes locked again. She quickly turned back to Charlie, embarrassed once more that he caught her staring. He didn't seem to notice her discomfort though.

"Uh, you mean Elvis?" She asked, just wanting to say something.

He shook his head defensively. "No, I, um meant young, delicate girls like yourself. Uh, doesn't do you no good being on a warship this long."

She hummed with a sceptical look on her face, more interested about what he apparently had to say about Elvis.

"You know him? Elvis?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You two seem rather familiar." she shrugged.

"We share a bunk. Known him for a few years now, we reconnected in the army." he explained with a fond smile.

"Ah." she nodded in understanding and looked down. Which is why she didn't notice Charlie's eyes widening slightly before she heard a booming voice behind her.

"Man, you're stepping all over her feet, give the poor girl a break."

"EP-"

"Nah man, step away, lemme show ya how to do it." Elvis didn't even wait for her reaction to the whole exchange as he pulled her away from Charlie's gentle grasp and pressed her against his hard body, one hand around her waist, one hand guiding her head towards his chest. Whereas Charlie had carefully ensured there was enough space between their bodies for a theoretical third person to join in, Elvis didn't seem to share this sentiment. With no regards towards her personal space he held her in a tight grip, her cheek now resting against his toned chest, the smell of his cologne immediately causing her brain to short circuit. He was definitely taller than her previous dance partner as well, she thought while he started swaying them lightly back and forth. She saw Charlie quickly shuffling away and realised for the first time that she was now, in fact, dancing with Elvis Presley.

"Sorry about him, sweetheart. He's just really awkward in front of girls. Good thing I came to rescue ya." He mumbled and laid his cheek against her hair like they'd known each other for years.

She looked around, trying to discern if anyone had witnessed the spectacle that just happened. She'd hate to be the center of attention. Luckily everyone was still rather busy with themselves and in high spirits, the small incident thankfully not spoiling with the wonderfully exuberant atmosphere. "Do you always steel away girls from your buddies like that?" Mary asked, her voice a bit muffled, her cheek and lips still smushed against his dapper uniform.

He hummed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Only the pretty ones. Ol' Charlie wouldn't know how to treat a girl like ya."

"And you do?"

"I know everything about women there is to know, sweetheart."

"Most girls aren't that complicated, you know?"

"Every single one is, sweetheart."

"Well, the one's onboard aren't that hard to please, believe me. I'll tell you as a woman."

He hummed and released his grip on her hair to look at her, eyebrows raised quizzically.

She giggled. "It seems to be almost impossible to find you on this ship, you know that? My, uh friends keep trying to see you. That's all they want. But from what they're telling me you could actually be a ghost."

His face momentarily darkened again and Mary wondered if she said something wrong. She laughed awkwardly before continuing. "You know, they hear rumors that you could be there, or that you're spending your time here and once they go there... you're always gone. Vanished into thin air. Poof."

He needed a moment to register her words before giving her a regretful smile. "Oh, you know, I'd actually love to meet em, honey. See, they keep me busy sweeping the decks and scraping off rust. Ain't really got no time for myself. Or the girls."

She nodded and pursed her lips. "The way I see it you owe me something for the dance now, don't I?"

"Oh, so you're the one girl aboard not as easily pleased as the others? What a lucky guy I am."

"Now, that's something you brought upon yourself. Tearing me away so cruelly from poor Charlie."

"Told ya already, poor Charlie wouldn't know how to handle ya. The more I talk to ya the more I get the feeling that I'm right."

"And I get the feeling that this means you want to listen to the deal I'd like to propose?"

He smirked. "Oh, I'd love to hear a proposal from you, sweetie."

She jokingly rolled her eyes at him and he bit his lip, his own eyes half closed. She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Focus. In exchange for the dance, I need you to at least sign some autographs for my friends, alright?"

"That much I can do, honey."

"Perfect! Thank you!"

Mary pulled him along to a nearby table and she reached out, gathering some of the white napkins. She laid them down in front of him.

"Pen, pen, pen..." she mumbled to herself over and over again frantically, her eyes scanning the area around her.

"Got one, honey. Don't get all worked up." he said with a smug smile and pulled a pen out of his breast pocket.

She gave him a look before pointing towards the paper in front of him. "For Janet, please. And Terry. Oh and Darby." She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, trying to remember the name of the other girl Janet regularly went Elvis hunting with. "And Sheila!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers triumphantly.

He leaned down. "Gotta lot of friends, honey." he smiled up at her through his long, black lashes and went on to sign the napkins, as she peered over his shoulders.

"What about you?" he asked as he finished writing and turned around again.

She took a startled step back, not realising how close she actually stood to him before. "Huh?"

He bit his lip again, trying to contain a playful smile. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Oh, Mary."

"Mary. That's pretty." He smiled as he leaned over the table again and grabbed another napkin to scribble down a personal autograph for her as well. When he finished he held it out to her, but quickly snatched it away again when she wanted to take it from him.

"Nah, sweetheart, this one costs extra." He chuckled, holding it high above his head where she couldn't reach it.

"Another dance?" she asked, wanting to sound serious, maybe even exasperated. Yet, she could barely suppress a smile.

He pointed to his cheek with an innocent expression. She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him, making him pout. She sighed and leaned up on her tippy toes, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach and mentally prepared to be so close to him. Again. When she softly pressed her lips against his impossibly soft skin, she couldn't help but close her eyes and smile at the sensation. He leaned into her touch, pressing his cheek further against her mouth, relishing the feeling as well. There was a certain hollowness she felt in the pit of her stomach when she had to force herself to pull away from him before it got weird. She looked up at him expectantly.

He opened his eyes again and gently pressed the napkin into her hand. "Thank you so much, sweetie, you really didn't have to do this. But I'll accept it as your apology for being mean to me."

She stared up at him, open mouthed, at a loss of words. He raised her hand to his lips. "See you around, Mary." With a wink he left her standing there, clutching the signed napkins tightly in both in frustration and desire.

"Can't sleep either, huh? Or are ya seasick, leaning over the railing like that?" His playful voice startled her out of the memory.

She shrugged, and after another breeze of cold salt water against her face she decided to step away from the railing and sat down on a bench nearby. "Tomorrow we'll dock at Bremerhaven. My family is all exited about it."

"And you're not?" he asked and sat down beside her.

She shifted, her feet now resting on the bench as well so she could tuck them into her blanket. "I don't know. I'm a bit scared to be honest. Uh, what about you?"

He huffed. "...Were your little friends happy about the autographs?" he asked, quickly avoiding her question.

She blinked. "...Oh, uh yeah, they went absolutely crazy!" She chuckled at the memory of Janet flinging herself around her neck, eternally grateful. "It meant so much to them. Thank you, again."

He smiled and put his arm around her. "Thank you, sweetie. Always happy to make a deal with you."

She gave him an over the top sweet, fake, smile and he snorted. "But really, I'm glad... Don't know how many of them are left when I return."

She frowned at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

His smile turned solemn and he looked down. "My... fans." he winced a bit at that word. "The folks who support me. They mean e-everything to me... Now that I'll be gone for at least two years..." he trailed off and shook his head.

"I think they know that you're not abandoning them. You're doing your duty." she argued and gestured to his uniform.

He ran a hand over his clean shaven face. "Doesn't matter. They'll forget a-about me."

She leaned over. "Don't be so hard on yourself. That's not gonna happen, I can't imagine dear Janet ever stopping trying to hunt you down. Just to get a small glimpse."

His eyes locked with hers again. "And what about you?"

"Mhm. I'll certainly always remember that handsome G.I. playing the piano. He's a great dancer as well. Oh, and he has a beautiful voice. Unfortunately he didn't sing, but I know he can. I saw him perform on tv. Can you believe that?" She said with big eyes.

He snorted a little and raised one eyebrow at her. "Sounds like an interesting fella."

"Oh you won't believe it. Definitely someone who leaves a lasting impression."

"Aww, you're sweet for saying that, baby. Means a lot to me."

She sighed. "If we wouldn't dock tomorrow I'd personally organise another show. Just you and me and the girls." she chuckled and gently ran her fingers over his forehead.

There was a beat of silence until he released a shuddering breath. "I'd love that. When we were dancing, you, uh made me forget everything for a minute... It was really nice."

"I liked it too." She gently smiled.

"...I-I'm not even allowed to sing anymore, Mary." he whispered after a few minutes of agreeable silence.

"...Uh, you know, I was wondering about that. The other day... you only played the piano."

He took a deep breath. "That I did."

"And you didn't sing." she continued with a pointed look.

He absentmindedly reached up and removed his hat, revealing the trim army hair cut, instead of the perfectly styled pompadour she was used to. "The uh, army a-and my manager thought it would be better if I didn't." He explained and carefully examined the hat he held in his hands, narrowing his eyes at it, as if it was personally responsible for his misery.

"They, uh really forbid you to sing? As in you're really not allowed to?"

He shrugged, his voice failing him and laid his head against her shoulder, both of his arms now around her waist. She swallowed hard. "I-I'd certainly like to have a talk with that manager of yours. Forbidding you to perform. I don't believe it."

His icy nose bumped against her warm neck, and a chill ran down her spine. "It's just not s-supposed to be like that. Nothing. Everything is... going wrong." he whispered and pressed himself even closer to her.

A bit overwhelmed, Mary didn't really know what to do to comfort the man next to her who seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. She now understood what Charlie Hodge meant when they were dancing two nights ago. It wasn't just that he wasn't allowed to sing. He was afraid. Terribly afraid. Of the future, of being alone. He was probably even more afraid than her. She noticed him shivering a bit, his head still angled away from her. When she heard him sniffle quietly she fully turned her body towards him and saw a single tear running down his reddened cheek.

"You're cold." she stated and opted to pretend like she thought his runny nose was a direct result of the icy wind still hitting their faces. "Come here." she whispered as she pulled away her blanket and drew in a sharp breath a the sudden cool air hitting her body. Then she carefully draped the rough fabric around him as well, wrapping them both up in a tight cocoon. He wordlessly snuggled up to her, his cold hands around her waist making her shiver once again.

His voice trembled a bit when he spoke up again. "Mary, will I see you again?"

"I don't know." she answered, honestly.

"You'll have to c-come visit me. In Friedberg. I-I'll a-arrange it." he stuttered, his voice urgent.

She hummed. "Mhm, we'll see. Under one condition though."

"What?" He raised his head, his nose bumping against hers.

She ran a finger over his full bottom lip. "You'll have to sing for me then."

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis fanfic #army elvis

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maxverstappensflatbrim · 10 months

Text

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [30]

chapter thirty, act four: somebody else

masterlist

little Author's note /TW before this act begins. There's going to be alot of talk of drug use and addiction within the chapters coming, if you're not comfortable with these kinds of things please don't read.

August 22nd 2016

“Tom?”

Tommie looks up slowly at Jamie as he stands across the tour bus from her. She knows that tone, he’s breaking bad news to her.

“Jamie..?” She responds in the same tone.

“Um, a letter came to the Dirty Hit office in London for you.” He fiddles with the piece of paper in his hands, the rustling noise soothing her.

“We’re in Japan.” She points out with a raised brow at the long delay of him telling her. They haven’t been to London in months, travelling straight from the US to Asia and completing shows and festivals out here.

He nods, “I know. It came on your birthday, I brought it with me to America but, I just-. I just… didn’t know when the best time would be to give it to you.”

She nods and gets up from the settee to take it from him slowly, “Not getting, like, sued or deported or anything?”

“Deported? From where?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know.”

He shakes his head, “Not getting sued nor deported,” Then he adds as an afterthought as he realises he has no idea what’s actual beyond the licked seal of the letter, “I hope.”

“We’ve stopped for the day off, the guys are down the front waiting.”

Her breath hitches as she turns it over, she recognises the messy writing and spelling mistakes right away. A few letters are smudged from the use of the writer’s left hand and there’s a drop of something stained on one corner, she hopes it's coffee, but it's probably alcohol.

It’s a letter from her father.

She stares at it a few more moments, until she can hear her name being called down the other end of the bus, then she grabs her jacket and shoves the letter into the pocket, deep down to take it out later.

“Come on, Matty’s getting impatient.” Adam tells her, arm around her shoulder as he tugs her along the long corridor through the living space and kitchen area.

“Uh, where we going?”

“He wants to take that speed train he saw a youtube video about, then go to some arcade because he saw a video on how to hack the claw machines.”

She nods, but then stops herself from walking down the steps, pulling back with one hand gripping the railing and the other the letter inside her pocket, “Uh, I’m gonna stay back, I’ll meet you guys later, send me your address…”

“You sure? You alright?” He asks, brows furrowed in that motherly concern he has only for her.

She nods, “Just, didn't sleep well last night, and I can feel a migraine coming on.”

“Do you want me to st-”

“I think alone time will be best,” She says, “Peace and quiet to get rid of it.”

He nods in agreement, “Okay, I’ll grab you those little chocolate snacks you liked in the seven eleven.”

“Thank you, Ads.”

She heads back into the bus, closing the curtain of her bunk and flicking her little Yoda night light on to read the letter.

She clutches the letter, doesn't realise she’s crying- no, sobbing- until the curtains rip open with such a force that the wind blows her hair over her shoulders and she’s looking up to the furrowed brows of Matty looking down at her.

“Baby?”

“M-Matt-”

He’s sitting beside her pulling her into his arms right away, lips to her hairline as he whispers, “What’s wrong, Baby?”

He closes the curtain around them, shutting out the bright lights thinking it’s a panic attack or a sensory overload, “Is it too bright? Too noisy?” He lowers his voice and she shakes her head moving the letter to his hand.

He’s silent as he reads it, eyes scanning the page, squinting to make out the words that have been smudged by her tears.

“That bas-”

He drops the letter to the end of her bunk far away and forgotten until she’s prepared to deal with it, moving his hand to trace softly up and down her back as she clings to him.

“It’s alright, come on, let's lie down.”

She nods into his shoulder, making no effort as he tries to move them so they're lying on their sides facing each other.

Matty lies with his back to the curtain, right on the end almost falling out and she tugs him closer with his opened button up.

“What happened to the train?”

He shrugs, “Didn’t feel like it.” That’s a lie, it’s all he’s talked about for the past two weeks, he’s been researching the speed, watching youtube videos on it. He’s obsessed with this train.

“Matt?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

He nods, hands still moving up and down her back, he smiles as he feels something start nudging at his leg, “Got an intruder.”

Button, who is now a lot larger than when she used to cuddle between them as a puppy, forces her way between them in the tiny bunk.

“Hey, Buttie.”

She spins around a few times, kicking at Matty to move over as she licks Tommie’s tear stained cheeks.

Matty grins as Tommie gives a wet giggle at the dog, quickly promising with a whisper into her head that she’s okay. Button rests her head in the crook of Tommie’s neck, curled up into the curve of her body and huffs as she gives Matty one last taunting kick. The dog’s not stupid.

Matty reaches over the dog to take her hand, resting it on the dog's back and interlocking their fingers together. His other hand scratches Button’s head which is just what she wanted, the dog's lips lift and she twists herself so Matty will scratch a certain point of her back for her.

“Go to sleep, baby,” He says quietly, leaving Button for just a few seconds, which the dog is not pleased by, lifting her head to stare blankly at him, Matty ignores button to move some hair out of Tommie’s eyes, then drags his finger down her cheek before returning it to Button’s head.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ

August 29th 2016

The man across from her shifts awkwardly, he clears his throat and sips the coffee. It’s too strong, makes her nose hurt and stomach churn.

She sits, sipping from a dr pepper can and watches him, waits for him to make the first move.

“Carol-”

“I go by Tommie.” She says, “I always have, even when I was a kid-”

“I know.” He says quietly, “But you’ll always be little Caroline, the little five pound baby who was so small she fit in her grandfather’s palm.”

“How would you know?” She asks, “When mam gave birth you were getting pissed, like usual…”

He sighs, “Caroli-”

“John.”

He swallows, looks down at the stained table in the little London coffee shop they’d agreed to meet at, not far from the flat she and the guys are currently staying at.

“I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Some are unforgivable-”

“Unforgivable?” She scoffs and shakes her head, “Some should’ve landed you in jail a long time ago, John.”

He bows his head, then shakily reaches into his pocket taking out a folded up piece of paper.

There’s a young girl in the photo, wearing cowboy boots and a hard hat, her little red hair hidden by the yellow plastic. She must be around six years old. There’s a scooby-doo scooter that she’s riding one handed, her other hand as a pink ukulele in it.

“This is what kept me going in rehab. Looking at this picture and knowing I ruined her childhood. The thing that kept me going was the knowledge that you were out there doing good, Ca- Tommie.”

Then he pulls his phone out, showing her photos of a toddler, the same pink ukulele sits on the floor in the background, paint chipped with stickers she had put on there herself peeling off. “This is Juliet. Your sister.”

“Does JJ know?”

“JJ lives with us.” He says quietly, “We have a three bedroom house, he’s got his own room, his own stuff. It was his birthday last wee-”

“I know.” She cuts him off, jaw clenched at his audacity, “I never missed one.”

“You’ve missed four.”

“I was ten years old and using my pocket money from nan to buy him birthday presents, John, I think that makes up for it, for escaping when I had the chance.”

He slowly puts the phone away, “I understand, Tommie, that you’re mad at me, at what I did, what I was like- But don’t take it out on everyone else. On JJ, Juliet the rest of the family. You have to understand my point of view. I’d lost my mother, then my father, I was a teenager, I was seventeen when you were born, seventeen, no parents and a newborn child what- What was I supposed to do?” He tilts his head to follow her eyes.

“I was younger,” She tells him, “I had it worse.”

“This isn’t a competition.”

“Your parents died, yeah, that’s bad, that’s horrible, I know I went through it. But my parents neglected me, my own dad beat me, that’s fucking worse.”

“Your mother was no better than me, where was she-”

“Do not bring my mother into this. Yeah, she lived a little but she was there. She made an effort, she worked to give me everything I had, she partied at night, so what? She gave me clothes, food, roof over my head, she gave me love. Yeah, in little bits that I had to scrape the bottom of the fucking barrel for but she gave it.”

“So what?”

“Yeah, ‘so fucking what’, she never hit me.”

He sighs shakily, rubbing a hand over his stubbled double chin, “I’m better, I was sick back then, but I’m better now, I want you to try and understand that.”

“I understand this perfectly,” She lifts her chin, biting her lip when it wobbles, “Mam wasn’t good enough, JJ wasn’t good rough, I wasn't good enough. But some posh slag Iris, from ‘up North’, with a designer vagina ready at your disposal is-”

The only thing that can be heard over the steaming kettles behind the kitchen is a skin on skin slap.

They both pause, John with a hand in the air and her with a hand pressed to her cheek.

His eyes are full of regret, instantly, he flexes his hand and watches her carefully as her hand pushes into her cheek, “Caroline, I’m sorry, I-I… I don’t know where that came f-”

“Same old, dad.” She says quietly.

“I’m sorry, I-” A tear falls from his eye, “I’m sorry, Caroline. I didn’t- well, I-”

She clenches her jaw so tight the bone there cracks and she has to open her mouth for it to pop back into place, “I preferred it better when you’d just hit me and tell me it was my fault.”

He stands slowly, grabbing his jacket and folding it over his arm, “I want you to know I’m so very proud of you, Tommie. Of everything you’ve become. Everything you’ve done alone.”

She doesn’t look at him, she keeps staring straight forward at the other side of the booth.

“Of the woman you’ve become, the things you’re doing. So, so proud. And I’m sorry that you’ve had to do it all alone.”

“I wasn’t alone.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ

Slamming the door behind her she jumps as someone says her name, “Tom?”

“Cal?”

His brow raises and he walks around the kitchen counter he was leaning against to meet her at the door, “You good?”

“Yeah.” She nods quickly, turning her face away from him, “I’m going to jump in the shower.”

“How was coffee with your friend, what was her name again?”

“Lily.”

“Right, Lily.”

“Got cut short, she had to go back to work.”

He hums, “Maybe you can try again next time you’re in London.” He suggests and she nods in agreement as she hides herself away behind the bathroom door.

“Hey, Tom?” He knocks his knuckles on the door, “Can I talk to you?”

She waits a few moments flushing the toilet chain to buy herself time as she rubs concealer on the forming red hand print.

She opens the door leaning against the frame and places the fakest smile she can manage on her face as she looks up at him, “Hmm?”

“We’ve been asked back in the studio in two weeks to record a single, a radio single, I was going to ask if-”

“Can we talk about this later? After my shower?”

“This is important to me, Tommie.”

“I know,” She says, reaching to place her hand on his arm, “And I am so so proud of you, I promise… I just feel disgusting.”

“Please.” He lowers himself to meet her direct eye line and she nods.

“Quickly.”

He grins, “Can you come to LA with me? Just a couple days, help me out with writing a song, maybe help with the productions-”

“Cal,” She says quietly, “We’re different genres, you’re country rock, I’m… whatever it is that Mattty feels in the mood for when he gets up that morning.”

He runs his tongue across his teeth, looking away and she sighs, reaching her hand out to touch his arm.

“Let me have my shower then you can tell me all about your single and your ideas maybe you can run some by me.”

He opens his mouth but the door is shut quickly and he leans back against the wall for a few seconds, making his way to the lying room where a brown flowery leather book sits open on the coffee table.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ

Gabby’s brows raise at the quietness of the usual booming apartment. She looks around, setting her bag down on the settee.

“Tom? You in here?”

Matty told her Tommie and Caleb should be there, but it’s not a single sign of life besides the light coming from the bathroom.

Gabby smiles to herself knocking on the door, “Tommie?”

“G-Gab?”

“Yeah, just me, I picked us up some food, Caleb not here?”

“Has he gone?”

Gabby’s brows furrow and she shifts against the door as she looks around, it’s a little messy, just some clothes thrown over the floor and her bag discarded. But she knows Tommie, knows this mess would usually cause her to go off on one of her cleaning tangents. She can tell something is wrong., “Uh, he must've he’s not here. Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah, give me a few minutes, I just got out of the shower.”

“Okay… I’ll set up the table.”

Tommie hums in response, still working on covering the mark on her face. Gabby sets the shopping bags onto the kitchen counter then works to pick up the clothes, she tosses them into the washing basket in the corner of Tommie’s bedroom then hangs her bag up in its place on the coat hanger beside the flat’s front door.

Tommie dresses quickly, into some of Ross’ trousers she has to roll six times to fit and then one of Adam’s Oasis t-shirts before walking out to meet Gabby in the kitchen.

“Everything okay?” She asks again.

Tommie nods quickly, “Yup. What’s for dinner?”

“Chinese.”

Tommie nods, pulling some cups from a cupboard down for them, filling one with dr pepper and the other with diet coke, passing the diet coke to Gabby as she moves through the kitchen.

Gabby stays silent for a few more seconds, then decides to break it.

“Tommie?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? I mean, I know we haven’t known each other very long, but Matty speaks highly of you-” She sighs and touches her arm gently, “You don’t seem yourself today.”

She nods silently and Gabby’s brows furrow as she moves to place one finger on her cheek, her eyes move around her face as if putting the puzzle pieces together, “Did Caleb-?”

“No,” Tommie stands up straight quickly, clutching her hand desperately, “God no, I’d kick that man’s arse in seconds if he touched me like that. It was-”

She hesitates, but looks at the soft, motherly look on Gabby’s face and relaxes back into the counter, “I saw my dad today, first time since 2012 when I left Wales to move up to Manchester with the guys. I said some things I shouldn’t have and he reverted back to his old ways to get me to shut up.”

She rubs her knuckles at her stinging cheek with a shrug, “My fault, I shouldn’t have said-”

Gabby scoffs, a harsh sound that has her leaning even further back, “Do not blame yourself for your father’s ignorance. If he thinks it's okay to lay a hand on his own daughter or any woman for that matter then there is something seriously wrong with him.”

Gabby’s eyes soften then and she moves to stand right in front of her, “Is that why you left?”

Tommie shrugs, picking at a string on her sleeve and Gabby opens the draw beside them, takes out the scissors and cuts the loose thread. Showing it to Tommie before tossing it into the bin and then taking the girl in her arms.

“Want me to go punch him in the balls?”

Tommie giggles, wrapping her arms around Gabby too, “Nah, I kinda wanna see him fuck up a few more kids lives before we take away his reproductive abilities.”

“Sharing is caring and everything?”

“Sharing is caring.”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe, @littlesoldierelleora

-let me know if you want to be added :)

#show me yours matty healy #matty healy x oc #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #the 1975 x oc

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Note

Casting couch scenario with him

Or special massage after a hard day by him?

I went with my Thunder thot.

Not All That Glitters

Warnings: implied noncon, coercion, blacklistic, manipulation, power imbalance. This is a dark fic and you are responsible for your own consumption. 18+ only. Proceed with caution.

Character: celebrity!Thor

Summary: A chance encounter with Hollywood's number one leading man leads to an offer you can't refuse.

Please leave some comments and a reblog. It keeps me motivated and I love any constructive feedback, screaming, keyboard smashes, etc. that you have to offer.

Enjoy!

You smile as a flash leaves a glaring ring in your vision. You resist the urge to shield your face from another shutter, moving carefully before the backdrop. You leave the clusters of photogs and walk the line of reporters and bobbing mics, calling for an interview or a snapshot.

Your name isn't among the rabble. You're a newcomer, fresh off a mid tier credited roll. Something that has your name fluttering through audition rooms but unlisted in the magazine. You'll be lucky to be featured on the up-and-coming rosters of aspiring actors.

As you wave politely, you're drawn in by a journalist with a big red mic, "hey, hey! Do you have a moment?"

"Um," you nod and step closer to the metal rail keeping the press at bay, "sure."

"You're in Caliber, right?" She asks, "new star, any other upcoming projects?"

You're slightly thrown off by the suddenness of it all but Hollywood never moves slow.

"Uh, yes, actually, I'm currently set to support in an adaptation of–"

"Oh! Oh!" The reporter nearly hits you with the microphone as you dodge her and shield your mouth. You realise you were only a placeholder for a desperate paparazzo, "Thor! Thor!"

You peek over as the tall blond strides casually, stopping to pose in his black tux, smiling at the lens brightly. So suave and cool, a veteran of the stomping ground you're trying to tiptoe onto. A-list, well beyond your directory.

You turn back and smile at the camera before it pans away. You hope that doesn't make the cut. Absolutely embarrassing.

You're jostled in the tight squeeze if interviewees as the reporter squeals louder and waves excitedly. As you sidle away, a warm hand catches your lower back. You stop short and look up, fighting to keep an unaffected veneer.

"Pardon," the statuesque blond rumbles in his deep voice, "I'll try not to get your toes."

You bat your lashes up at Thor Odinson, the star of every red carpet and every blockbuster.

"Excuse me, sorry," you murmur, "I was just–"

"Miss, can you move? You're in his way," the cameraman snaps.

"Oi," Thor utters and keeps his hand against you as he faces the reporter, "I was just coming to see my friend. Brilliant actress if I do say so myself."

You blink and hide before you muster a semblance of cool to look over, "uh, yeah, hi!"

You give a pathetic little wave up at him. He winks and leans in to peck your cheek, "play along."

You keep your smile plastered on and turn to the camera. Thor stays close, looming over you. Somehow, he's even bigger than on the screen.

"You… are you working together?" The woman asks as he raises the mic to him.

"Ah, well, we can't tell all our secrets," he teases, "but I am very excited for the future."

"Can't you give us something?" She preens.

"Sorry, we've got to go," he nudges you, "come on, sweetheart."

You move, too shocked to argue with him. That's one way to get attention. He urges you along, taking you away from the barriers.

"Ugh, right arses," he mutters as he smooths his jacket, "pardon me, but I hate how they treat us like circus animals."

"Us?" You whisper, thankfully unheard.

"I hope you didn't mind," he seems to recall himself and pivots to the flashing photogs, "smile, sweetheart, don't want them gossiping?"

He bends his arm behind you, posing as you raise your chin and do the same. Your disbelief keeps you quiet as you let him guide you along.

"Stick with me. One day, you'll be desperate to be away from it all."

"One day? That's optimistic," you reply as you walk with him behind the gabbing celebrities and their interviewers.

"Oh, I know a star when I see one," he follows you along, "and I know a few tricks."

⭐

After your brush with the towering heights of Hollywood, you take your seat with the rest of the extras among the array of sparkling stars. Your table is well out of the shot of the cameras, only caught in the background of the front runners. You don’t mind, the free champagne makes up for the overpriced gown bartered for a name drop of the designer.

You know several of the actors sat with you. They are on a similar level, dependable if not forgettable. You are the lot of ‘those ones’, those faces people swear they’ve seen before but can’t recall where.

Your adrenaline is still amped high and further stoked by the alcohol. You’re not nominated in name, only as part of the ensemble for the film. Still, the reviews were positive enough that you might just get to peek out over the shoulder of the director.

The pandering rolls on. You plaster on a smile for appearances but the presenters are predictable, the poorly landing jokes cringeworthy, and the winners expected. You swallow a yawn as an orchestra takes stage to perform a medley of songs nominated for score of the year. You hide behind your glass, trying not to betray your disillusion as many of the guests show a similar unrest.

“Eh,” you nearly spill on yourself as a hand rests on the back of your chair and you look up at the figure who is suddenly hunched close, “there you are.”

You blink at Thor and glance around the table. Malorie, stage name, Loren, shares a curious look before you face the blond star. Your smile grows effortless as you do.

“Hi,” you greet nervously.

“I didn’t want to lose you in the mix,” he keeps his voice quiet, beneath the sonorous strings, “you’ve a card? Number for your manager?”

You take a breath, stunned. He’s just humouring you. Hollywood is all appearances and he no doubt wants to maintain his veneer as the affable leading man. You play along.

“Oh, sure,” you reach for your clutch. You always carry a card around, it’s part of the job. You’ve gotten some of better roles shoving them in hands, “and thank you, for earlier. I’m still so embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? For what?” He says as he watches you, the heat gathering in your cheeks. It’s just the champagne, you need to slow down.

“Just… you know how ridiculous those interviewers can be,” you shrug and fish out a card, flicking it out between two manicured fingers, “here.”

He nearly covers your whole hand with his own, his other still firmly planted on the back of your chair. He takes it slowly, a lingering touch along your fingers as he looks down to read the type. His cheek dimples as his thumb grazes the raised font.

“You’ll get a call,” he promises, “I should be back to my table before I’m caught out.”

He leans in and to your surprise, pecks your cheek. You struggle not to recoil and give a tiny giggle instead. He gives a soft squeeze to your shoulder before he steps away. You watch him go, turning back slowly to the stable, stunned and stiff.

You clasp your clutch shut and leave it in your lap. You reach for your glass as Malorie leans over, “so how exactly do you know Mr. Ken Doll?”

“We ran into each other on the carpet,” you scoff, “he’s just being polite.”

“Honey,” she speaks behind her hand, “do you know what a PR stunt could do for you? Especially with that man?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You think he’s gonna call you to be his co-star, mm mm. No, sweetie, he’s on the rebound and he needs a humble little lover to bring him down to earth. You know the game. Same as me.”

“No, it’s nothing… he’s not going to call, either way. I’m not stupid. Like you said, I know the game.”

“That isn’t a courtesy,” she nods to him and you peer across to his table. He watches you, sending a wink in your direction, “that’s groundwork.”

You take a drink and look down at the table cloth. You pull your shoulders up dismissively, “whatever, you’re just mad I got that audition over you.”

“Pfft, save me the trouble of squeezing into a corset,” she waves her hand at you, “don’t whine to me when your tits feel like pancakes.”

⭐

“You got an audition,” your manager, Josie, chews into the speaker. You hold it away from your ear as her gum snaps noisily, “big one.”

“Oh?” You wonder as you go over a script, “when–”

“You’re going to have to drop out of that period piece if you get it,” she interjects, “and shouldn’t be an issue. Bigger check with this one.”

She’s always blunt, always to the point, but she’s better than your last agent. The one who emptied your bank account and disappeared. Lessons learned.

“Right, well, we’ll see. I might be able to work both.”

“I’m telling you, sweetheart, this is the real deal. Thor Odinson’s directorial debut. Starring and directing. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. For most people, it’s none in a lifetime.”

“Oh, wow, Thor? He called–”

“His agent did, legal team too. They’re very hush hush about this project so you’re gonna have to keep it zipped.”

“Okay, got it,” you say, “sounds… like a lot.”

“It’s what you’ve been waiting for, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just… I didn’t think he’d call.”

“Have you even had a look at your phone today?”

“What do you mean?” You toss the script on the table and stand.

“I know you hate reading the damn things, but the tabloids are going crazy about that kiss. I’ve been working overtime tryna get these damn vultures off my back. We gotta figure out how to work this.”

“Work what?”

“Leave it to me,” she chirps, “I’ll text you the time and the place for your audition. Remember, keep it quiet. Wear a hoodie or something.”

“Al–”

The line clicks before you can finish. You sigh and swipe away the ended call. She never says goodbye. You’re used to it. You press your thumb down and open the front page, pacing as you scroll down to Entertainment. ‘Winners and Losers…’ ‘Best Dressed’, the typical articles that follow a ceremony.

You stop before you can scroll past the small thumbnail. You squint and read the hyperlink, ‘Odinson moving on?’ You chew your lip and open the page. At the top, a picture of you and Thor on the carpet, one posed, the other with his shoulder to the camera as he speaks to you. A rather intimate scene.

You skim the article, your name pops up, a list of your less insignificant roles, and some leading questions to pad it out. A video ends the article and you frown. The candid moment that Thor pecked your cheek looks much more provocative from another angle.

Your phone buzzes and the message pops up in a bubble across the top. Malorie’s triumphant, ‘told ya so’ is quickly flicked away.

Well, as awkward as it is, this is your chance. Maybe your only to claim your spot among the stars or fade back to the obscurity of the endless Hollywood void.

⭐

You’re surprised to find the address listed is residential. You’re used to hotels or random studios. Nothing so fancy as the gated mansion in the hills. You steer your old beater up and hit the button on the speaker box, waiting for a response as you check your bag. The script arrived the day before, allowing little time for your preparation.

“Name?” The response comes, curt.

You give your name and your purpose but the microphone seems to cut before you finish. A loud buzz signals your admittance and the gate retracts to let you through. You lean on the pedal and continue up the sprawling drive.

You pull in behind a Benz and kill the engine. The contrast of the vehicles remind you how far out of your league you are. You get out of the car, gathering yourself and putting on that well-refined mask. Be calm, be cool, and just do what you know how to do. Act.

You go up to the front doors but resist the urge to lift the large brass knocker. It seems more ornamental than practical. You find the doorbell cam and hit the button, swaying impatiently.

A tall blond woman answers the door. Regal and unlike any maid you’ve ever seen. Her long peridot dress suggests anything but. In fact, you think you know her, at least by sight.

“Oh, you must be…” she chimes as she pulls you in by your hand, your other grasps your bag tightly, “we are so excited to have you here! Thor can’t wait to get started.”

“Ah, okay, thank you,” you say as she lets you go and sweeps around to shut the door.

“My, my, I’m sorry,” she checks her waved hair in a nearby mirror, “Frigga Vanir. Thor’s mother.”

“Frigga,” you’re breathless, “you’re his mother? You’re… you’re…”

“Oh, my day is well behind me,” she tuts, “but I’m flattered.”

“I… had no idea.”

“We try not to let it get out,” she puts a long finger to her lips, “we wouldn’t want any unkind assumptions about the family, yes?”

“I wouldn’t– won’t say anything,” you promise, “um, I think I’m confused. Is this… an audition or–”

“Of course! Thor just hates the whole pretense of studios, such a headache. Besides, this place is so big, we may as well get some use of it.”

“Makes sense,” you accept with a nod.

“This way,” she directs you up the left arm of the double staircase, “oh, dear, you must be so anxious. I do forget how it used to be. But you don’t need to worry. Thor showed me your last picture, what was it? Caliber? I loved it, dear, you are very talented.”

“That means a lot, especially from you,” you say as you follow her, hiking your bag up to your shoulder.

“After you’ve gone through the whole… process, we’re going to do a nice little dinner. You’re more than welcome to join.”

“Thank you, that’s so nice.”

“Don’t be so nervous,” she turns to you as she stops before a door, “you will do just fine. He’s already very fond of you, oh and you are so effortlessly endearing.” She touches your shoulder, “and I do prefer you to the one who came yesterday. She was… loud.”

“Thank you,” you smile as she reaches for the door handle, “um, before… before I go, can I just tell you that you were amazing in Eden. It’s one of my favourites.”

“You do not have to pander to me, dear,” she chuckles lightly.

“I’m not. I–” you clear your throat as you recall the monologue you learned in high school, “‘If we go any further, we cannot go back but—’” You look around, as if there is someone watching, “‘if we go no further, we will be lost forever.’”

She gives a slanted grin, “oh, you’re not lying.”

“I was a very obsessed teenager,” you laugh at yourself, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, go on,” he pushes down the petal shaped lever, “he’s waiting.”

You nod and turn as she waits for you to enter. You slip through and the door shuts behind you. It’s not what you expected. Any of it. The room is dimly lit, an artificial fireplace licking along one wall, as Thor sits on a chaise with his phone in hand. On the table next to him is a script and a legal pad.

“Er,” you begin nervously, “I’m here.”

You cringe at your own stupid declaration as his head pops up. He brightens and stands to greet you, “oh, you are. I did fear you might not come. Please, ignore any redundant messages I just sent.”

“Oh, uh, that’s fine, I’m sorry, I thought–”

“You’re one time, early,” he says as he approaches and offers his hand, “always a good impression.”

He bends and kisses your forehead before you can react. You say nothing. It’s not the worst you’ve encountered. Too many directors like to physically guide you around a set and they tend to have wandering hands.

“So, you read the script?” He asks as he retreats and sits again. He puts his phone aside and takes the script from the square table.

“I devoured it. It’s so interesting.”

“I can only take so much credit. My brother is a gifted writer,” he flips through the pages, “and you got my notes for the scene we’ll go over?”

“Yes, I think,” you put your bag down, “I think I got it.”

“I don’t mind if you read,” he says, “short notice and all.”

“No, no, I’m awful with a script in hand,” you give an awkward flutter of your fingers, “I’m ready.”

“Alright, so I’ll be Erikkson and you are Alva,” he sets the context, “remember that this is set during a snowstorm…”

You listen diligently as he lays it out. He’s sauve, a professional. The way he goes through it so naturally. You do wonder about the producers, there’s usually one around for auditions, or at least a casting director. You peek around, trying to find a lens, it’s at least standard to record.

You don’t question it. You don’t want to ruin this. You can’t just throw this away after years of scrimping and scraping for parts. You might finally be able to give up the server gig.

“We’re lost,” Thor begins the scene and looks at you, your cue.

“You’re lost,” you argue, “and stubborn.”

You go through the lines. They flow easily despite the late night cramming them into your brain. You follow your instinct, imagine the set around you, a whole swirl of snow gusting and guiding you. You don’t think, just go.

You finish the scene as Thor signals with a clap. His script is beside him. You only feel his gaze then, realise how intently he’s watching you.

“I like it. You’re… subtle. Natural. Exactly what we need.”

“I’m sure you have others to see still,” you say, “before you can make a decision.”

“My mind is made up, I want you,” he says.

“Really?” You can’t help but beam.

“Yes,” he beckons you over, “come here.”

“Um,” your lip twitches but you near him, “what’s up?”

“Well, there’s one more thing we should try, just before I call my casting director,” he pats the seat next to him.

“Okay…” you sit, nervously rubbing your palms together.

“You read the entire script?”

“Yep,” you answer.

“So you know… we– Erikkson and Alva, they kiss.”

You poke your tongue into your cheek, “uh, yeah, but that’s… standard.”

“Still, chemistry is everything,” he angles towards you, “I want to be sure you’re the one.”

“Well, wouldn’t that be better…” your voice trails off and you correct yourself, “yeah, I suppose.”

“It’s all business,” he assures, “if we don’t mesh, it could ruin the whole thing. Trust me, I’ve had some real dead fish.”

You try not to show your discomfort at his last comment. Dead fish? Is that how he sees actresses or women in general?

“Alright,” you shift, “I…”

He touches your cheek and leans in slowly. You tilt your head back and meet his lips as they descend. His beard tickles you as your mouths join and he slides his tongue out. You let him in, wanting to just get it done with and show him you can do anything he needs.

He hums and his hand slips around the back of your head, holding you against him. He smothers you hotly and you find it hard to breathe. You press against his chest, it’s enough to prove yourself. More than. He doesn’t budge.

He pushes you down against the couch, your legs crushed sideways under him as he follows you down. You babble into his mouth and clutch the fabric of his shirt. You bite down on his tongue and he parts at last with a hiss.

“Get off,” you shove him but he remains unmoved, “Thor, what– I think we got it.”

You try to sit up and force him off you but he keeps you trapped under him. He cradles your head, his thumb brushing your cheekbone, “you know how big this could be for you?”

You’re taken aback. His timbre grinds in his throat, different than before. His aura is suddenly dark and smoky around you. His eyes are dilated and endless. You shudder as you press your fingertips into his chest.

“I know but… I don’t want it. Get off.”

His eyes close and he remains as he is. His lip twitches and his jaw ticks. His breath scours you as he lets it out through his nose, your arms trembling beneath his weight.

“Do you know what happens when you say no?”

You gulp and bat your lashes as your eyes burn, “Thor, please, I can’t do this–”

“No, you don’t. Because the ones who say no aren’t heard from. Not in Hollywood. You say no right now and you say no to every director and producer in Hollywood. Hell, I could get you barred all the way to Broadway–”

“Thor, you don’t have to give me the part, alright? I just can’t–”

“You do it or you don’t work again. Not outside that bistro paying you pennies.”

Ice flows through your veins as his heat enwraps you, consuming you in fiery horror. You stare at him, speechless. It’s all you ever wanted but is it worth the cost?

“You’re so beautiful,” he purrs as he caresses your cheek, “I didn’t want it to be like this.”

“I’m just…” your mouth is dry, your tongue clumsy. You feel your stomach pit and swallow up your soul; a fair price for a dream you can’t let go, “surprised. I wasn’t prepared–”

“Baby, I’ll be good to you,” he grazes over your hair and cradles your head, “you just gotta let me…” his lips brush yours softly, “I’m gonna make you a star.”

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #celeb au #au #thor x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #avengers

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palestaticexchange · 6 months

Text

THE MAN AT THE GATE

You sit on the railing overlooking the lorries.

There's the occasional beep from the malcontented men taking refuge from fluttering snow in their cabins. The lady driver fled this morning- driven away by some cop clearly *compensating* for something. This you know. You just about heard the bang of that cabin door echoing over the waterlock, as he screeched sideways onto the plaza.

One driver beeps again. Some long, drawn-out honk in place of a frustrated scream. You smile. As if one more noise would make a difference.

"Hey, Beret!" Drawls a nasally voice up and to your left.

When you turn your head you spot the young woman. She has her arms crossed on the railing, and smacks gum down at you with a smirk. Well *this* was interesting.

You bring a finger to your beret and tip it in her direction. "Evenin'," you give her your brightest flash of teeth. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She must like your mock chivalry because her smirk becomes a smile. Between that and her pause in chewing you realise just how young she actually looks.

A damn shame then that she spends all day on the catwalk clinging to some brainless goliath like a fly on shit.

"Wanted ta talk to ya!" She replies, resuming her chewing.

"Oh? Where's the big man?"

The girl looks over her shoulder, still smacking away. "Pissin' over the side of some railing." When her head returns to you her expression takes on an element of cheek. "I teased him about the *effects of the cold* and Jean-Luc got *shy*."

You throw your head back and laugh.

Of course she did. Of course *he* did. The brick-shithouse was an eight-foot stack of walking contradictions. Despite his supposed 'superiority' a little little-dick joke from one of his *babes* was enough to send him off, tail between his legs. Of course.

Evrart wouldn't like it, but he didn't *have* to see everything. None of the scabs had noticed Measurehead's absence. You can also hear the drunk retching from behind the Whirling, new handler likely in-tow. Everything was under control.

"What's ya name?" Ah. The girl. *That* is why she's talking to you.

"Call me Mañana."

She rolls her eyes. "What's ya *real* name?"

You chuckle. "Who are we to decide what is and is not real, chica?"

She groans and pushes back off the railing, arching her back and shouting to the sky. "All you artsy types is the same!" Whatever she was *going* to say next is cut off by her new posture providing the perfect chute for that overworked piece of gum to slip into.

She draws breath with a pop and her eyes widen. Then she's keeling over the railing and pounding a fist against her diaphram, hacking until a little pink blob flies from her mouth surrounded by spittle. You follow it's trajectory downwards.

There's a glorious, *terrifying*, moment of excitement where you think it's gonna land right on the main scab's head. Then it hits the ground with no ceremony, noticed only by you.

Your eyes return to the girl. No chewing, no smirk, no heckling. Only white knuckles wrapped around the railing and tears in her eyes from the choking. She's distant. You wonder then how old she actually is, what happened that made her content with spending too long days, in too little clothing, in this dreadful cold, with that dreadful man.

Why does she cling to a racist, content with being viewed as an asset?

You do not pity her. She chose this lot in life. But... For a moment you *see* her. Then, she draws another stick of gum from her pocket and chews it quietly.

"Tomorrow." You call out to her.

"Huh?" Her gaze returns to you. She blinks and cocks her head, chewing slower now.

"It means *call me tomorrow*. It's from a song- If folks don't know that, I usually don't tell 'em," you smile. "Consider it my *gift* to you."

Her eyes widen slightly. At that moment there's a creak of metal and you see the heavily tattooed man return to the catwalk from the harbour.

"I HAVE RETURNED, BABE." His voice booms across the plaza and you watch with glee as the bulky scab's head whips to the catwalk in obvious rage at missing his golden opportunity. "BABE." He repeats.

You're surprised to find the girl's still looking at you, ignoring Measurehead for a moment. Unthinkable! She's smiling that *genuine* smile again as she turns. "Thanks, Tomorrow," she mouths at you in silence.

#call me Mañana #disco elysium #if you haven't gathered then the theme of these is 'gift'#pale static exchange #pale static lore #katya #forgot she had a name!

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thelov3lybookworm · 10 months

Text

You Deserve Better (part 5.1)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

A/n: If you haven't read part five before this, it might not make sense, so I suggest you read that first.🥰

•○🌑○•

Rhys's pov

It took a few moments for the paper he'd sent to Thea to return, and when it did, he couldn't help but chuckle as it hit him straight in his face.

He was standing on one of the balconies. He rolled it open, smiling, but that smile slowly drained away and his eyes widened as he reached the bottom of her writing. He read it again and again, trying to not hope too much. It could mean nothing, but then why would she write what she did?

Skyward camp, the one closest to Velaris.

Could it be where she was? But why would she stay there? Could it–As he was too busy trying to make sense of the letter, he didn't realise someone was coming his way. He looked up as soon as Feyre appeared in front of him and he put his mask back on. But while he talked to her, he was still constantly thinking about the letter.That is until, of course, he realised she was his mate. He forgot everything and all he could think about was Feyre and the bond.

He winnowed himself away. He hadn't really thought of a place, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself near a forest. When he turned around, he realised he had arrived at a camp. Because he had no place in his mind, he had winnowed himself to the place he was last thinking about.

Skyward camp.

He stumbled a few steps toward a house nearby, when the door opened and Thea, cauldron, his sister, with tears flowing down her face, stepped out in a flowy sundress with daisies designed on it. He couldn't stop stating at her, but he was still aware of the two males behind her.

The word flew out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Yes.

He grinned so hard his cheeks hurt, but he didn't care as he tried to get to her as fast as he could, barely stopping himself from face planting a couple of times. Not walking on snow for fifty years had probably made him forget how to walk on it.

She also ran to him, launching herself at him. He caught her, her arms around his neck, wobbling dangerously on his feet, but he laughed. Both of them did. Laughed like they had gone mad, but to be honest, they probably had.

"You're back." She whispered.

"I'm back." He agreed.

"Look at you. All grown up. I missed you so much." He screwed his eyes shut.

"You say that everytime you see me Rhysie." She laughedHe rocked her back and forth, not willing to let go of her yet. They stayed like that for long, before she pulled back to study his face.

"You've grown so pale." Althea sniffed and wiped his tears away. He just grinned at her, making her shake her head. "You've also become so thin. But don't worry. I'll help you get back to normal." She patted his shoulder.

Rhys knew she wasn't just talking about his appearance. He kissed her forehead and cheeks. "I know you will." Then he finally looked behind her to the Illyrians standing on the front porch of the house.

One with pale blue eyes was standing against the railing and the other was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and smiling.

Althea followed his line of sight and a flush climbed up her neck. "Um. That's the guy I am with. Come on."

Rhys's brows almost rose to his hairline, and she began tugging him towards the house. Both of the Illyrians bowed to him as he reached the porch.

"Rhys, this is Casteel, my..."

"Fiancé?" Casteel supplied.

Rhys's jaw dropped open.

"Casteel! I wanted to tell him later on!" He grinned.

"My bad then. I'm sorry. I'm her not fiancé.

"Althea facepalmed, exasperated. "He's my fiancé." Rhys again pulled her in for a bone crushing hug, laughing. Then Althea pointed to the other one. "Kieran. He's... the third wheel."

"I'm not." He seemed so offended that, even though Rhys knew he was only pretending, for a second Rhys felt sorry for him.

"Yeah. He's just a pain in my ass."

"I tolerate all the shit you put me through only to be called a third wheel and pain in your ass."

Althea grinned and looked up at Rhys, and finally he removed his arm from Althea's shoulder and introduced himself, even though they obviously would know who he was. "Rhysand."

"It's nice to finally meet you, my Lord." Casteel said. Rhys extended his hand, which Casteel took.

"It's nice to meet you too, the mysterious guy that she has been talking about all this time. Also, don't forget I will be testing you now that you're engaged." Thea slapped his shoulder, before tugging him into the house.

Since that day, Rhys frequented his visits to the camp to meet his precious little sister. And when Mor and the others asked him where he would vanish to, he deflected. They hadn't known the siblings had even written to each other, let alone meet. So he would keep it a secret until Althea was ready for them to know.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @Act1839 @we-were-beautiful

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wanderingjedi77 · 1 year

Text

Bo-Katan/Reader (Mando'ad)

Summary: The evening sun is falling on their face, and she thinks just maybe she is falling a little bit in love with them.

Y/N's clan had been loyal to House Kryze since the Mandalorian Wars of old, but you would say you were loyal from the moment Bo-Katan looked at you the first time you met on Kelevala.

Bo-Katan had always been in her sisters shadow, even then; and you wondered if she had ever been happy. The years during the clone wars; and after led you both on paths you didn't expect, and after the fall of Mandalore, the night of a thousand tears, you had broken away from your remaining clan, not wanting to bear the weight of being the heir, not wanting to remember as you travelled from planet to planet, trying to drink the pain away some nights, trying to escape the nightmares that followed.

You were alone, until you found Bo again. Or rather, she found you.

You had been staying at a smuggling den, out of work but still on good terms with the owner when three Mandalorians in blue armour show up to trade. You hadn't paid much attention to them until Jax, the owner; had beckoned you over quickly.

"This is Y/N. They know more about this kind of weaponry and metal then I do." He says as you approach, and you nod at them politely, though your smile is stiff. Why did it have to be Mandalorians? You thought. Why couldn't everyone leave you alone?

"Are you Mandalorian?" The man asks, and you hesitate. They are obviously, but should you tell them the truth?

"Axe..." The red haired woman warns. "She's probably just a trader."

"I am Mandalorian. I was born on Dxun." You answer quietly, and you look up as they move closer. Nite Owls, you realise quickly, and standing in the middle of the frey is Bo.

You breath catches, and Bo-Katan tilts her head at you like she remembers who you are.

"Where's your armour?" The man, you think you heard Bo call him Axe; asks you. You ignore him with a scowl.

"Go away." You tell him, and cross your arms. "Before I make you." You walk outside onto an attaching balcony, they follow of course, curious and a little insulted at your dismissal.

Before he can answer, Bo steps forward; and waves them away. She will deal with you herself it seems.

"Leave us." Bo commands, and the two other Mandalorians back out of the balcony. You look at Bo as she takes one, two steps closer; and then raises a hand to your face, looking closely at the scar there. Bo remembers when you first fought her in the fighting circle, and how she had knocked you so hard against the ground you had hit your cheek off a rock. You had both been younger then, and more impulsive, you would have followed her to the ends of the galaxy. She traces her thumb over it and you all but melt into her touch, shutting your eyes. When was the last time someone had shown you kindness like this?

"Y/N?" Bo asks, and you open your eyes to find her looking at you softly. "Is it really you?"

"Hello Mand'alor." You greet, and you wish you had it in you to kneel or bow, but instead you choose to kiss the palm of her hand against your cheek instead.

Bo takes in a slow breath, and pushes you against the stone railing of the balcony so hard you gasp. "Where have you been?" She demands, "I thought you were dead."

"I've been around." You offer, and hiss as Bo pushes her armored body against you, effectively trapping you between the railing and her body. Your not wearing your beskar, you know it's against the creed, but it's stored safely in your ship.

"Not good enough." Bo snaps at you, though there isn't much anger in her voice. "Where is your armour?"

"In my ship."

"You should be wearing it." Bo orders. "Why aren't you wearing it Y/N?"

"Because I'm tired." You whisper. "I lost everyone."

"You didn't lose me." Bo replies firmly. She watches as the sun starts to set behind them, and casts a glow across your face. "How could you say that?" She thought of all the times you two had snuck away, of all the times you had fought together, you were close then, before you disappeared.

"Where were you?" You ask, intent on changing the subject.

"Fighting for Mandalore."

"Mandalore is gone." You argue.

"Not as long as we live." Bo argues back, and you lower your head against her chest. "Not as long as there are Mandalorians." She places her hand on the back of your neck, and kisses the top of your head. She was never this affectionate before. When you were both in Death Watch, when you thought you had a future. Thought Mandalorians could rule the galaxy once more.

"I'm sorry." You whisper against her chest plate, and she doesn't say anything.

"I could order you to come with me. You have to follow my orders." Bo replies, her tone demanding, "Being sorry won't make up for lost time, or for what happened, but your actions might."

You pull away with a shaky breath, and Bo looks at you, eyes alight. "You always liked ordering me around."

"You were a better listener then." Bo looks at you, and you give her a small smile. "But if you don't want me to..." There's a challenge behind those words. Asking you to question her. Daring you to go against your Mand'alor.

"I'll come, but only if I get to stay with you." You reply, it's a compromise, even if you feel like it might not be the right decision, and Bo puts her hand on your cheek again, looking you in the eyes.

"You won't be able to get away that easily again." Bo-Katan answers. The evening sun is falling on their face, and she thinks just maybe she is falling a little bit in love with them.

#bo katan kryze #bo katan x reader #reader insert #star wars the mandalorian season 3 #star wars mandalorian #star wars x reader #bo katan is a bisexual queen

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angelst4re · 2 years

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hiya!! i miss u sooo much and hope you’re doing okay!! could you maybe write something where jamie and reader are sleeping together but reader wakes up in the middle of the night feeling really anxious and having a panick attack because of the fight she had with her dad the night before and she can’t breathe so she goes to the balcony of their room to get some fresh air and try to stop crying. jamie wakes up a few minutes later missing her in bed so he notices she’s feeling bad and goes to comfort her? 🥺 thanks!!

hi love!! i'm doing okay :) and this idea is just so <33 i really wanted to write and post it tonight so it's quite short but also quite sweet <3

Midnight Rain- Jamie Campbell Bower x Reader

summary: it's in the request :)

warnings: tw for abusive/alcoholic parents :/

note: yes, the title is a taylor swift reference again, i just didn't know what to title this fic haha!

“You stupid bitch,” he spat, picking up the glass beer bottle beside him, “what have I told you about waking me up?”

“No, d-dad, don’t do this, please! I’m sorry! I just wanted to see if you were still alive for fucks sake!” You cried, backing away from your father before he threw the bottle in your direction, shattering into tiny pieces as it hit the wall. You were shaking from head to toe, consumed by fear. He was going to kill you.

You gasped for air as you woke up, your hands trembling and your body glowing in sweat. You couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t you breathe? You swung your legs off the side of the bed and dashed towards the balcony door, your fingers trembling as you reached for the handle.

You stepped out, ignoring the rain pouring down, more worried that your legs would give out beneath you with every step you took. You finally took a deep breath, gripping the railing so hard your knuckles were turning white. You squeezed your eyes shut as you steadied your breathing, and that’s when you realised you had been crying. You lift a shaky hand to wipe your undereyes, but someone else had gotten there first.

“Jamie,” you whispered, your voice was shaky as you spoke, “go back to bed, I-I’ll come back in a moment, I j-just-”

Before you could finish speaking, he pulled you towards him, your face buried in his chest as he ran his fingers through your hair. His chin rested on top of your head as he wrapped his arms around you.

You had told him about your fight with your father the previous night, and he comforted you, calmed you down and assured you that everything would be okay. He always knew how to make you feel better, he made you feel safe.

“Bad dream?” He asked, gently. You looked up to see his hair now damp, his t-shirt also soaked from both the rain and your tears.

You nodded your head, not wanting to talk about it- not yet at least.

“Why don’t you come back to bed, darling? It’s cold out here and neither of us are dressed for the rain,” he chuckled, “let’s get you into some warm pyjamas, yeah?”

You nodded your head, again, and followed him back into the bedroom. You watched as he took his top off, throwing it to the corner of the room and taking a hoodie out from the drawer, but instead of putting it on he put it on the bed and stepped towards you, motioning you to lift your arms up.

You lifted your arms up and he gently grabbed the bottom of your t-shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it into the corner where his wet t-shirt was. He sat you down on the bed and helped you into his hoodie, kissing you on the forehead before going to get some bottoms. He picked out a pair of black joggers and laid them on the bed beside you.

You stood back up and he helped you out of your shorts, as you stepped out of them, you grabbed onto his shoulder for support before sitting back down on the bed. He then helped you put the joggers on, his hand lingering on your waist for longer than it should have, but you didn’t mind, you craved physical contact right now, you didn’t want him to leave. But you feared he would as he picked up the damp clothes.

“I’ll take these down to the-”

“No,” you finally spoke, “we can sort that out in the morning. I just… Can we go back to bed? I’m tired and I don’t want you to leave and I just want to cuddle.” You admitted, your face flushing in embarrassment, but Jamie found it cute.

“Of course, sweetheart.” He smiled softly, dropping the clothes before making his way over to the bed.

He pulled the covers back and you both slid in, you shuffled closer to him as he pulled the covers back up over the both of you. He pulled even closer towards him, you could feel the warmth of his chest as you smiled into his skin. He placed a kiss on your shoulder just before you drifted into sleep, whispering a quiet ‘thank you’, to which then you heard an ‘I love you.’

#jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower x reader #jcb #in my flop era

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phantom-of-the-501st · 1 year

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TBB Ep 10 Thoughts

Spoilers for TBB Season 2

Today on The Bad Batch, child slavery!

Let's get into it.

The way Wrecker stares at the part that fell off the speeder for a second and then falls back. 🤣

The timing of that cracked me up.

They're gonna try and fit all 4 of them on one speeder???

GONKY IS HOW THEY FIND THE MARAUDER?!

Omega being a smart bean. 🥰

Honestly, the amount of Gonky in this episode makes me so happy!!!

Excuse me, but Mokko is not the metal-handed guy that I wanted to see.

ALL OF THEM BALANCED ON THE SPEEDER HAHAHAHA

"That's our defective power droid"

Fuck yeah it is!

Don't mess with Gonky. The dads will come after you. 😠

Wrecker activated Intimidation Mode ™️

Okay, yeah, cool, we're all just gonna abseil down a chimney, sure.

That seems totally safe. 😐

"Plenty of time". Omega's so one of them omg. 😭 She's grown so much. 🥲

That brief slow-mo when Hunter falls forward. 😍

Than animation this season is so good!!!

Ngl, them all sticking their faces over the chimney stresses me out.

Smooth take-down from Hunter, there!

Mokko is a dick. 😡

I'VE JUST REALISED THAT THIS IS WHAT JENNIFER'S CRYPTIC TWEET WAS

Omega's head poking out from the oversized coat! 🤣🥰

Bitch, you did not just press that button. YOU DID NOT JUST PRESS THAT BUTTON!

Omega giving Benni her ration even though The Batch don't have much food. 😭

Wrecker hanging upside from the ship is one of my new favourite things.

Okay, I understand why Benni did what he did. I'm still pissed though. 😤

All the stuff about kids not being able to just be kids in this galaxy is so sad. 😭

Sorry, did Mokko really expect his "let's make the Batch work in the mines for a decade" plan was gonna work???

Although, he does say something about if they survive that long, so best bet is he was just gonna leave them to die.

Like I said. He's a dick.

ALSO THREATENING TO THROW OMEGA OF THE PLATFORM?! HOW DARE YOU SIR!

He's actually lying to the kids and keeping the ipsium for himself? How surprising (note strong sarcasm).🤨

OMEGA THROWING HERSELF OFF WITH THE DROID BECAUSE SHE KNOWS HUNTER WILL CATCH HER 😭

That scene might be my favourite of the episode. Especially with the altered Bad Batch theme over the top.

Ngl, the fight with Mokko was underwhelming.

The guy literally fell over a railing by himself. 😭

Although he was also a pathetic dickhead so a pathetic end is kind of what he deserves.

WRECKER HUGGING GONKY!!! 🥰

Even though they were all in competition with one another, when it comes down to it, the kids actually do all care about each other. That's sweet.

Wrecker is reunited with Lula! 🥲

TECH AND OMEGA THIS SEASON ARE GIVING ME SO MANY FEELS!!!

Was hoping the Echo and Crosshair convo would carry on this episode but oh well.

Also, we never saw Tech and Wrecker apologise to each other. 🥲

Overall feeling about this episode is that I think it might be one of my least favourites of the season. I didn't dislike it but with how good the others have been, this episode didn't stand out a whole lot to me.

There were specific moments that I absolutely love though! Wholesome Batch moments just hit me right in the feels. 🥲

And Wrecker's "I'm working on it" reminded me of Echo in Season 1. 😭 I still miss that man.

Weirdly, I don't feel like I have much to say about this episode right now. There's some more stuff delving into the idea of kids not being able to just be kids in this galaxy, so I'm happy they're continuing on that narrative. I maybe would've liked to have seen a little bit more from the other miners? I don't know.

Normally when I watch an episode, one or two particular things sticks out to me as something I want to talk about more but I didn't really get that much from this episode. Think I may just have to sit on it for a few days and see what comes to mind.

Still liked the episode, but I definitely think that the first half of this two-parter was much stronger. Very excited to see what Metamorphosis is going to be about though! My hope is to see Echo and Rex again, but that's more wishful thinking than me believing it's actually going to happen. 😅

Edit: This was supposedly a breather episode, so that may explain why it fell a little flat for me. I think I got really hooked up in the more high-stakes episodes and that swayed my judgement on this one. 🤔

#star wars #the bad batch season 2 #the bad batch season 2 spoilers #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch #hunter #omega #wrecker #tech

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observeowl · 1 year

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Right By Your Side | Chapter 7 - Resort

Summary: In the world where wearing glasses makes you a different person. You were forced to swallow a pill that turned you into seven years old. Now, you're living with your crush in a small form, what would you do? Who were the ones who brought this to you? And, can you change back?

Chapter summary: Someone managed to figure out your true identity

Series Masterlist

Your POV The team went into the meeting room for debrief and by habit, I followed them in until I was stopped by Nat, nothing goes through her. I looked at her confused until she said. "Stop, you can wait in the living room for us." She placed her hand down and closed the door in front of me.

I pressed my ears on the door but I was unable to hear anything. It was perfectly soundproof so no information could be leaked unintentionally. It was the only room which was soundproof, other rooms were not approved for soundproofing for safety purposes.

Reluctantly, I peeled away from the door and walked towards my room.

I'm stuck in a stalemate. There's nothing I can do about Hydra and the Black Org when I have no information. Conan and Hailey have encountered some cases, it seems wherever he goes, there would be a dead man and a case waiting for him to solve, but none of them relate back.

A knock on my door brought me out of my thoughts. "Allison? Can I come in?" I looked around, making sure nothing was out of place before opening the door for Nat.

I looked up at her tall figure.

"Yes?" I asked timidly. Our past interactions have always been her telling me not to be reckless.

"Pack your bags."

"What?" Was I being chased out?

"Tony booked a resort for us since we settled this mission. You know, him and his celebration." I released a breath I didn't know I was holding. Man... the way she asked me to pack my bags, I thought she was going to kick me out.

"When are we going?" I opened the door further to invite Nat in.

"Now." She said as she helped me take out a duffle bag.

---

"What about school?" Halfway through the journey, I realised that I was still supposed to have school this week.

"I already told the school you're not attending this week." So it seems like the school also has her contact as one of the guardians.

"Where are we going then?" I placed my elbow on my knees as I crossed my legs at the back row. The journey was getting long and it seemed like we weren't going to stop soon. It made me think if they were going to another mission.

"Just one of Tony's resorts." Wanda replied. The ladies were travelling in one car and the guys in another.

---

"There's a lot of facilities here, we are staying here for a week so do whatever you want to do! Go Wild!" Tony exclaimed as he passed us our room keys. It was a suite so the girls have one room while the boys have two. One for Tony all by himself of course.

It isn't a peak season but there were still a number of people in the resort. I'm surprised that Tony didn't book the entire place out.

"Have you been to a jacuzzi?" Wanda asked.

"No." I shook my head.

"Then let's go!" Wanda dragged my arm and started pulling me to the indoor jacuzzi, leaving Nat to settle everything. There were towels provided inside so we didn't bring anything other than our swimsuit and bikini.

Stepping in carefully, holding the rails for support, not wanting to slip on the steps on the first day and ruin everything. We sat by the jet that create the stream of water and bubbles. We talked about what type of movie and show we like and dislike and how some plot doesn't make any sense. My voice was vibrating as the jet hits my body.

We were laughing when Nat finally came in. "Nice to see you are having fun while I have to clean up your mess." Her hair was in a messy bun. The bikini she was wearing, not caring about the scars and bruises she had or just acquired from before, just couldn't contain her beauty. Her confidence was over spilling.

I heard Wanda gasped and turned to face her. She had her hand over her mouth but cleared her throat and went back to her sides.

"Are you okay? Your face is red. How long have you been here?"

"No no i-it's just the water here is hotter than I thought." I stuttered. Fuck, I can't keep my eyes off her.

"Well, be careful, I don't want you to be fainting." She went to sit next to Wanda.

"No news on Y/N?" Wanda asked, hoping for some good news.

Nat sighed in her seat and shook her head. "No... No calls, no text, no note. I'm starting to think she just ditched us."

"Maybe she's doing a mission for Fury." Wanda tried to be optimistic.

"I asked Fury, but he said she wasn't given any mission and he doesn't know where she is either." Nat had no choice but to bring down her friend's hope.

"Well, look on the bright side, no news could be good news." Wanda tried to cheer up Nat. Both were great friends of mine. Guilt, is something I'll never be able to shake off. Even if I managed to get my body back, and that is if I managed to.

"I- I am going to head back to the room first." I got up and left the jacuzzi, leaving the two older women in the tub.

---

Second POV You were sitting in front of the dressing table twirling the pen that the resort provides. That's another thing about you, there's always a pen in your pocket, ready to be used. Whether to sign papers or to kill.

Natasha and Wanda continued in the jacuzzi talking while Bucky and Sam were competing to see who can stay in the sauna the longest. Steve was in the mini library they provided while Tony was partying in the club exclusively for members only.

With a pen in one hand and your phone in the other, you were scrolling through your text messages formulating a plan. You can't sit here and wait for them to make a move but you don't know where they are operating.

Hailey mentioned that they often have intermediaries working for them, companies, influential people and high ranking officials that government agencies fear. Before they are able to give any information to the police, they would be dead and there were lots of examples for that. People were not willing to betray the organisation willingly.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder and you swiftly turned around, ready to jab the pen into their neck. Red mist surrounds your wrist and you widen your eyes.

"W-Wanda..." You were worried you'd blown your cover.

"I have been trying to be kind, Allison. Your thoughts were pretty loud. I didn't say anything doesn't mean I don't know anything, Allison. Or should I say Y/N?" Wanda surrounded your body in red mist and pinned you to the wall while she went to change.

"You've managed to trick us for quite some time. You appeared on the same day Y/N disappeared. So I decided to look into your mind, you may be able to change your appearance, but doesn't mean your memories would." Wanda moved you to the bed but you haven't said a word.

She wasn't like this, this is different. You had expected her to support you even though it may be wrong. "H-have you told Nat?"

"So what if I did?"

Wanda heard the door open and she immediately put you to sleep.

Compared to the messy bun Natasha was in earlier, her hair is now in a neat braid. "Where is Allie?"

"She's asleep." Wanda showed you sleeping soundly under the covers. "She was rather hyper in the jacuzzi before you came. Must have tired her out."

"Steve said it's time."

Unbeknownst to you, they were here for a mission. The guy they captured earlier split that some of the guys were hiding in this resort waiting for the package exchange. The team was spread out, trying to determine the place of exchange.

They could either do it in a place such as the library where there are few onlookers or a lot such as the club. They could also do it where people keep their eyes to themselves in the sauna or the jacuzzi.

Steve saw them in the library and that is where everyone is headed now.

"Everyone be ready to intercept." Steve said through the comm. It was dangerous to do things in the open when the public was still walking around. The best case scenario was to avoid a fight or to pull the fight to another place.

"Who's with me." Steve asked.

"I'm almost there." Sam and Bucky said as they opened the door to the library. A little too loud you may add. The buyer and the seller both lifted their feet the moment they heard the bang.

"You just gotta open the door loudly." Steve muttered under his breath before starting to chase the buyer. Both ran in different directions. "I'll take care of this guy, Bucky and Sam chase the other."

"Got it."

Wanda and Natasha were still making their way to the library. For wanting it to be in a quiet spot, it was located further from the rooms.

No longer having the intention to go down without a fight, things started to get more serious when they pulled out guns. To each pulled out their own gun, but Bucky was faster and managed to shoot him before he could even place his fingers on the trigger.

"Did you kill him?" Sam asked.

"No. He's obviously still moving idiot."

Back with Steve, he was still chasing the buyer. Now with the package in his hand, he was more determined to get out of here than the seller. "Nat secure the exits." He was close to getting out of the resort and as much as it was dangerous for the people in the resort, there would be more chaos if he got out.

Steve increased his speed and tackled him before he managed to climb the gates. He kicked the briefcase aside, before trying to secure him. He put up a fight and kicked Steve on the back of his head causing the soldier to stumble, giving him the chance to escape.

He reached out for the briefcase but Nat and Wanda just arrived and he decided to let it go and fled. The three of them tried to find him in the street but the car had already taken off.

"He got away."

"Here." Wanda passed Steve the briefcase. At least there was still some positive in this mission. He opened it up to check the content, it was a power enhanced gun, glowing bright blue.

"I already called SHIELD, Fury is going to send someone to pick it up." Natasha said as she hung up her phone.

"Where were you?" Steve asked Tony.

"I was partying in the club." Tony said as a matter of factly.

Steve could no longer be bothered to drill some senses into this guy and he obviously had none.

---

Your POVI groaned and opened my eyes. After remembering the conversation with Wanda, I shoot up and inspect the room. I was still in the room unharmed but no one was around. I checked my phone and saw a message from Wanda.

Wanda:

Don't worry. I didn't tell Nat. Your secret is safe with me. But I want to know what happened.

I heaved a sigh of relief. But where are they? Did they ditch me again? I checked the time and it has been three hours since I was forced to sleep.

I typed the message and was going to send it when the door opened. I peeked out slowly and Wanda and Nat walked in. "Oh you're awake. We didn't want to wake you up, here's dinner." Nat said and placed the takeaway on the table.

I pulled Wanda aside and whispered. "Are you guys here for a mission?"

"Yeah. And before you say anything, it was Nat's idea to put you to sleep. She said you're too reckless and get involved in lots of trouble." Wanda had to squat down to get to my level.

"I only did it twice!" I defended myself.

"And that's enough for her."

"You didn't tell her anything right?"

"Should I?" She ruffled my hair and left to change into comfortable clothes before I could say anything.

--- >time skip<

It was the last day in this resort and thankfully there isn't any mission left. Wanda and I went to the library where I can tell her what happened. We were going through the shelving in the library, hoping to find some books at the same time.

Nat didn't join us because she would rather stay in the room and work. Even when we are here, she's working. Well it is not surprising.

"So how are you going to find them?" Wanda asked as she picked out a book.

"I don't know... they are always moving from what I heard." I picked out a book, The Return of Sherlock Holmes.

"Oh hey Allie! Nice to see you here!" I turned around to see who would know this name. It was Bill and Conan, Hailey and the group of friends they befriended.

"Hi guys, what are you doing here?" I asked the group.

"Uncle Bill is treating us to a restaurant here!" George, the tallest of the bunch, answered cheerfully.

"All you can think of is eat." Amy nudged him. "By the way, I haven't seen you in school all week."

"Yeah... I'm on vacation." I answered.

"Okay kids, let's go. The reservation time is almost up." Bill ushered the kids out of the library.

I pulled Conan behind so I could speak with him. "Did you find anything?"

"Yeah, come over to Bill's house later."

"So, he's the one who shrunk along with the girl at the back?" Wanda asked when they all left.

"That's right."

Series Masterlist

#natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #black widow 2021 #mcu #Right By Your Side #my writing

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