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scuderiahoney · 3 months

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Blackbird

Daniel Ricciardo x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a bartender at a mountain lodge. When Danny shows up, you’re determined to keep your distance. It doesn’t really go to plan.

a/n: definitely inspired by this moodboard I made for the lovely @shootingstar-scuderia for my 1k celebration!

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: alcohol, mild sexual content

People come and go at the lodge, but they don’t stay for long. That is, except for you and your coworkers. They’re the only consistent people in your life. The customers, the guests- they pass through like ships in the night. They tell their stories, share their adventures, and then move on. It’s half the fun, really.

You should’ve known he’d be different from the very start. Most of them come in, sit down at the bar, and are eager to tell you all about themselves. They want to impress you, want to prove that they’re the biggest adventurer in the whole place. And sure, the road to the lodge is rough and steep and half the time it’s washed out. But most of them arrive in vehicles driven by guides, and they tote their expensive luggage through the lobby, decked out in brand new hiking gear bought special for this trip. When he shows up at the bar, he’s in a threadbare t-shirt, a pair of loose shorts, and a worn down pair of hiking boots.

He’s flanked by friends, ones who have genuine smiles on their faces and are dressed much the same. He seems to be the ringleader. The first thing you really notice about him are the tattoos scattered up and down his arms. He rests his elbows on the bar, looks utterly at home there. You wander down to take their order.

“I’ll have whatever beer you’d recommend,” he says, Australian accent shining through.

You get a lot of people with accents in the bar. They come from all over. You’re not surprised at the accent, though you might’ve guessed he was American from looking at him. You nod and pour him a glass of your current favorite before taking his friend’s orders and doing the same. He takes a sip and sends you a wide grin, one that seems genuine. People smile at you a lot, trying to get a discount on their drinks or look good in front of their friends or sometimes, more than that. But this just seems… real. Like he always smiles that brightly.

“That’s good,” he says, nodding eagerly. “A woman after my own tastes.”

You laugh and nod. “You’ve got good taste, then.”

He preens over that, runs his hand through his hair. Then he sticks the other one out to you, over the bar. “I’m Danny.”

You shake his hand, the way you do each time someone introduces themself to you. You try and commit his name to memory, because he’ll likely be back a few times before he leaves the lodge and they always tip better if you remember their names. He repeats your name back to you, like it’s not written plain as day in your nametag, like he actually cares.

He tilts his head towards you. “So. How’d you end up here?” He asks.

You raise a brow at him. “Normally I’m the one asking that question.”

He laughs. He folds his hands on each other and rests his chin on them.

“Exactly. You must hear about a billion of the same stories, rich people on their vacations, roughing it in the woods,” he laments. “So come on. What’s your story?”

You’re not sure why you tell him. Looking back, in the interest of self preservation, you probably should’ve lied. But at this angle, he’s staring up at you through thick, dark eyelashes. He has the prettiest smile you’ve seen in months, maybe years, maybe ever. So you look down the bar, make sure nobody’s waiting on you. Danny and his friends are early, so you don’t have much to worry about.

You shrug. “Graduated high school. Decided college wasn’t for me.” You pick up a rag, rub at a spot on the bar just to look busy, just to avoid looking right into his eyes. “I’ve been on the move ever since. I landed here about a year ago- cheap room and board, good tips, and,” you jerk your thumb towards the large picture windows looking out over the valley and mountains. “The view’s not so bad.”

Danny laughs at that, and his gaze flickers to the windows. The sun is just barely beginning to set. Soon the tourists will pour into the bar and restaurant, hungry and thirsty from their days full of adventures. But right now it’s quiet. The calm before the storm.

“Nice,” he says. “Bet you’ve got a lot of cool stories.”

You shrug, though you smile a bit at the thought. “Yeah. Hasn’t been a bad life, you know?”

He nods. Someone sits down at the bar, and you head down to take their order. Soon enough, you’re too busy to stop and chat with Danny, having to limit it to quick drink requests and offhanded remarks. You swear you feel his eyes on your the whole night. He closes out the tab a little before 9:00, pays for everyone and leaves a big tip. For a second, you remember that he’s probably just some big wig exec from some tech company, cosplaying as an outdoorsy man for the weekend. And that’s fine, you’ll support it as long as he’s nice to you.

He tosses a grin over his shoulder as he leaves, and sends a little wave your way. You swear he winks. And really, it was that moment that you should’ve known that Danny was going to be a problem for you.

…..

The employee cabins are in a secluded spot on the property, but you prefer to have your morning coffee on the back porch of the main lodge. It’s got the best view, the coffee is free, and at this hour, there’s nobody else up. Nobody, that is, except the man from the bar the night before. Danny, you remember. Huh. Usually it takes longer for the name to stick.

You watch over the edge of your book as he comes jogging up the path. He’s shirtless, skin glistening with sweat. It’s early morning, the sun barely poking up over the horizon, and it’s not that warm yet. Either he’s been working hard or he’s out of shape. From the glimpse you catch, you decide he’s definitely not out of shape. You force your eyes back to the book as he makes his way towards you. You won’t be caught staring at the shirtless guest. That would be a bad idea.

Said shirtless guest walks right up to you, though, and sticks his finger into the spine of the book, tugging it downward. You quirk a brow and look up at him. The audacity to interrupt your reading- you’re not sure how to even react. Your face betrays you as a smile crosses your lips.

“Good book?” He asks, nudging the cover.

You shrug. “It’s okay. I’ve read almost everything good in the library here.”

Danny wrinkles his nose. “You said you didn’t like… you know. Academic stuff.”

“I said college wasn’t for me,” you clarify. “I like reading.”

He nods in understanding, that signature smile on his lips. “So what’s this one about?”

You blink up at him. “Dragons.”

“Sounds fun.” He looks to your cup of coffee, sitting on the table in front of you. “S’the coffee any good?”

You nod. He takes a couple steps towards the building. “Can I sit with you? None of my friends are up yet.”

“Well it is 6am, and you’re on vacation. Can’t say I blame them.” You say, dancing around the question.

It’s not that you don’t want to talk to him. In fact, you have a strong urge to lean close and learn everything about this man. But he’s a guest and you’re an employee. They encourage you to be friendly with the guests- it helps them feel at home, your manager says- but not too friendly. Besides, Danny will be gone in a few days, and he’ll forget all about you the week after. It’s how it goes.

But he turns and raises his brows at you, and you sigh and nod. “Yeah, you can join me. But I want to read, so…”

“I’ll be so quiet,” Danny promises.

He scurries off to get coffee. You let out a long breath and pick the book back up. You’re definitely going to regret this decision. Danny doesn’t seem like the quiet type.

In his defense, he manages to stay quiet for about ten minutes. He sits down in one of the chairs next to yours, leaning back and sipping his coffee. From the angle, you can peek up over the edge of your book and sneak glances at him. He has his eyes closed, or at least close to it. He’s still shirtless, though you can see the t-shirt he must’ve been wearing hanging from the waistband of his shorts. You’re not looking at him, really- just trying to tell if he’s looking at you.

Then he starts to fidget. First he crosses his legs, then uncrosses them. He stretches his arms above his head, fingertips spread wide. Then he slouches in his chair and lets out a heavy sigh. You meet his eyes over the top of your book.

He raises his eyebrows. “What are you doing up so early, anyways?”

You should be irritated. This is your quiet morning- he’s interrupting your personal time. You come out here to drink coffee and read and listen to the birds, not some rich man trying to talk your ear off. But. He’s so genuine about it. Like he actually wants to know. Be friendly to the guests, you think.

“I’m a morning person,” you tell him, resting your book on your lap. “And I love it here before everyone wakes up for the day, you know? Like it’s just me and the world.”

He nods in understanding. He props one foot up on the chair, bends his knee close to his chest. His shorts slide up to reveal a whole mess of tattoos on his thigh. You tell yourself not to stare.

“That’s how coming here feels for me,” he says, softly. “Nice to be away from people for a bit.”

You’re starting to wonder if maybe he’s different.

“Like a breath of fresh air,” you suggest. “But for your mind and heart, too.” You pause and roll your eyes at yourself. “Sorry, that’s a bit hippy of me to say, but-“

“No, I agree,” he says, softly.

Someone opens the door to the lodge and calls out his name. You swear his face drops. He turns over his shoulder and nods, and then pushes himself to stand up.

“Well. See ya ‘round,” he says, voice soft.

You nod and pick up your book again. “See ya.”

…..

You get to know him, bit by dangerously intriguing bit. He works for Red Bull, apparently. Doesn’t give many details past that, so you assume it’s boring. He does know Scotty James-

“There was a guy who came here last winter, a snowboarder, he had a Red Bull helmet-“ you say, snapping your fingers. “Scotty something, wasn’t it, Will?”

Will, your coworker, is cleaning glasses at the bar. He raises his brows at you, and his gaze flickers to Danny, and then he says “Scotty James.”

You nod and turn back to Danny. “You know him?”

Danny laughs. “I was in his wedding.”

Danny also has a ranch in Australia where he rides dirt bikes in what he refers to as the ‘off season’, whatever that’s supposed to mean. He shows you a video, and honestly, you’re not one for adrenaline but it looks pretty fun. You suggest they talk to your boss about taking the ATVs out on the trails, and he perks up at the sound of that.

Danny tells you about his family, too. About his parents, his sister, his nephew and niece.

“M’trying to teach them good music,” he tells you on the back porch one morning. “None of that little kid shit.”

You laugh. “None of the educational shit, you mean.”

“Music’s not for your brain,” he scoffs. “It’s for your soul.”

“There’s at least 100 scientists who would definitely disagree,” you tease.

You agree with him more than you’ll ever let on.

When he walks into the bar one evening and you have his drink already waiting for him, you start to wonder if you’ve grown a bit too attached.

…..

Your boss, Michael, calls you up to the main lodge early the next day. He’s bent over the front desk, crossing off names and writing new ones down. He looks up at you with wide eyes, brows furrowed.

“Hey. I know you’re not up on the rotation yet, but d’you think you could cover an overnight camping trip?” He asks. “Sadie’s out sick, and Billy’s got a family emergency.”

Though your main job is in the bar, all of the staff take turns taking guests on overnight trips in the mountains near the lodge. You hike out with them, help set up all the gear, start the fire, and then help pack up the next morning and hike back. Depending on the group, it can be fun. When they’re not too high maintenance, you can sit around the fire and tell fun stories and get paid to do it. Other trips, you end up setting up all the tents and doing all the work and then you get ignored for most of the night.

“It’d be you and Will,” your boss adds.

Will’s one of your favorite coworkers. The two of you get along great. Michael knows this, and you wonder for a moment if he’s already talked to Will, or if you’ll be a bribe to get him to agree, too. You lean over the counter and sigh.

“Are they gonna be annoying?” You ask. “Like. Are they the type who’re wearing the brand new gear, or no gear at all, or are they somewhat okay?”

He juts his chin towards the back porch, and you follow his gaze. Danny’s out there, throwing a football back and forth with one of his buddies. You quirk a brow and turn back to Michael.

“He didn’t ask for me, did he?” You ask quietly.

Michael’s brows furrow. “No. Is he making you uncomfortable? You know you can tell me-“

“No,” you insist, shaking your head. “He’s nice. Just, you know, checking.”

Michael nods. “So? What d’you say? You’d leave tomorrow, come back the next morning. Quick out and back.”

You shrug and nod. “Got nothing better to do.”

The guys are missing from the bar that night. You see them come in later, arms around each other, probably just back from some sort of expedition. One of them- Blake, you think his name is- is trying to corral all of them, reminding them of their big hike the next day. They disappear into the elevator. Just before the door closes, Danny looks straight at you and gives you a wide grin.

When you meet them in the lobby the next morning, his grin stretches even wider.

“No way,” he says, eyeing your hiking backpack and the boots on your feet. “Not only are you the best bartender, you also do guided hikes?”

You nod and smile. “Only one at a time, though. Unfortunately I’m not very good at making drinks in the backcountry.”

Danny shrugs. “We’ll survive.”

You clap your hands and look around at the group. “Alright, campers, you ready to hike?”

They all nod and chime in with various agreements, so you pick up your bags and head for the doors. Danny falls into step next to you near the front, while Will takes up the back of the pack. You run through your usual spiel that you do when you lead a hike, and then you’re off.

It’s peaceful for a few minutes. Like the guys are all trying to act like good naturalists, like they’re trying to soak it all in. And then Danny trips over a rock, and someone teases him for it, and it’s all downhill from there. It’s entertaining, really- the way they pick on each other. You can tell they’re genuinely friends.

You take a break for lunch at a perfect spot overlooking a valley. Danny whistles lowly when he sees the view, and he elbows you lightly.

“You take all the guys to this spot?” He jokes, wiggling his brows at you.

You roll your eyes and elbow him back. “Just the ones who are stupid enough to follow me deep into the woods.”

That earns you a full bellied laugh, one that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. You’re struck again by how genuine he is, how his walls are down or maybe even nonexistent. It makes your chest ache.

You eat lunch together, and you point out the mountains by name from the little overlook. They’re all great at playing along. They ask how the peaks got their names, which one is your favorite, if you’ve ever made it to the top of any of them.

“That one,” you say, pointing at one of the smaller peaks. “Mount Mirlo.”

“Mirlo?” Danny asks, testing out the word.

You nod. “I think it means… blackbird? Yeah. In Spanish.” You nod your head towards the mountain. “Anyways. They drag everyone up there the week they first get hired. It’s a hazing thing.”

“It’s not hazing if it’s fun,” Will chimes in, and Danny laughs. “Admit it. You had a good time.”

“I got bit by so many mosquitos and very sunburned,” you deadpan. Then you grin. “But yeah, it was sick.”

You set back off on the hike after lunch. Eventually, you come to a log bridge over a river. Danny peers over the edge as you wait on the other side, brows raised. There’s a little spot where the water pools there.

“Looks like a good spot to jump in.”

You laugh and wrinkle your nose. “That river is absolutely frigid. It’d be like an ice bath.”

He shrugs and grins at you. “Just saying.”

The camping spot isn’t far from the bridge. Once you arrive, you begin to unpack the tents to get them set up, while Will starts getting things ready for the fire. You unroll the tents, lay out the poles, and then-

Danny’s next to you, hands on his hips. “How can we help?”

You blink up at him from where you’re crouched near the ground. “Oh, you don’t have to… usually we do the set up.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “We came here to go camping,” he says. “Tell me what to do.”

They all get started setting up the tents, and you’re amazed at how much quicker things go when there are more people actually doing work. The camp is set up in record time, and someone helps Will gather firewood. Danny insists on helping to make dinner, too, and soon everyone’s sitting around the warm fire and eating happily.

“No food in the tents,” you warn, looking around the group at all of them. “It goes in the bear box. You don’t want a bear to come looking for breakfast in your tent.”

Danny nods in agreement with wide eyes. As everyone finishes dinner, they start chatting. You sit down on the dirt and stretch out backwards, staring up at the purple hues sky. The sun is setting, and when you lay down fully on the ground, your back aches. Danny, who’s sitting next to you, lays down too and lets out a long groan. You laugh.

There’s something about the proximity that has your heart racing. His hand is next to your on the ground. If you reached out just a little you could touch his warm skin. Nobody would even notice.

A bird lands in the tree. You pull your hand away to point at it instead.

“Blackbird,” you say, and Danny nods.

“Mirlo, right?” He says. You nod in response.

The bird starts singing. You mimic the sound by whistling, albeit not very well. You drop your hand back to the ground next to you as you do, and Danny laughs affectionately, attempting to whistle too. You swear you feel his pinky touch yours, and your whistling falters.

Will pulls out the marshmallows soon after. Everyone gets excited over that. You all wander around to find good sticks to roast them with, and then meet back at the fire. You watch in absolute horror as Danny takes his marshmallow and sticks it directly into the flames. It lights on fire mere seconds later, and by the time he pulls it out with a panicked noise and blows on it frantically, it’s charred and black. He gives you a sheepish look. You sigh.

“You’re so bad at this,” you say, shaking your head.

He nods in agreement. “Always have been.”

His friends try to give him instructions, but it’s no use. By the time he’s on his third burnt marshmallow, everyone else is on their second s’more. You take pity on him- before he can char another one, you take the stick from him and roast it for him. You stare in concentration, finding just the right spot and turning it carefully until it’s roasted perfectly golden brown. Will helps you assemble the s’more, and you hand it to Danny with a soft smile.

“Here,” you say, quietly.

He takes a bite, then lets out a soft moan that has you heating up in a way you shouldn’t be. “That’s amazing,” he says. There’s melted chocolate stuck to the corner of his mouth, and your fingers itch to wipe it away for him. “I crown you queen of s’mores.”

You curtsy, nodding your head at him. He laughs and nearly drops the treat. You spot the issue before he does, and your fingers bump clumsily against his as you try to assist him. His hands are warm, and probably sticky from the marshmallows. You don’t let your touch linger long enough to find out.

Eventually, everyone heads off to bed one by one. Will gives you a questioning look when it’s just the two of you and Danny left up. One of the guides always stays up until all the guests go to bed- it’s a safety thing. You nod to Will, and he stands and stretches and heads for bed. The two of you are sitting on a sideways log next to the fire, and once Will goes into his tent, it’s just the two of you, the flames, and the dark expanse of night.

“Spooky,” Danny says quietly.

You nod. “You get used to it, after a while. The dark gets a little less scary. The quiet, too. When I first got here, the quiet was so…”

“Loud?” He says.

You laugh, but he’s right. “Yeah. Loud.”

He nods in understanding. “It still feels like that for me. My day to day life is so noisy, you know? The quiet is a little overwhelming.”

You nod and nudge his shoulder. “That’s gotta be good for you, though. Healthy, I think, to take a break from the noise.”

His shoulders drop, and he leans against you, just barely. “You’ve got no idea, little mirlo.”

You laugh and lean into him, too. He’s warm and firm against you. You could reach out, could touch him, could tuck yourself right into his side. He’d probably wrap his arm around you, probably pull you close. You bet he smells good, like sweat and smoke and laundry detergent, and maybe vanilla, or something spiced and warm, or…

His pinky bumps against yours on the log. You suck in a breath and look up at him. There’s a question in his gaze, one that has you nearly choking on thin air before he even asks it out loud.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, nearly a whisper.

And you want to say yes. God, you want to say yes. But-

“Look, Danny,” you say, keeping your voice low. “You’re a sweetheart, really. And you’re cute-“

“Perfect, so-“

“But I don’t date guests,” you say, leveling your eyes at him. “Or, like- I don’t do hookups, or get close with guests. It’s against the workplace rules, and it’s a recipe for disaster.”

He smiles softly- you think somewhere deep in your heart, you knew he’d react like this. With kindness, understanding. He tilts his head, and he squeezes your knee gently.

“Okay,” he says, softly. “I’m not going to push you on this, because I don’t want to be a creep. But if you change your mind-“

“I won’t,” you say. You’re not sure if you’re trying to tell him or yourself.

“I know,” he agrees. You think he’s lying, too. “But if you do, promise you’ll let me know?”

You snort out a laugh and stick out your pinky. “Promise.”

He goes to bed soon after that. You stay up until the fire goes out, staring at the coals, wondering if you’ve made the right choice.

….

When you wake up the next morning to a shuffling noise outside your tent, your first thought is that the bears have finally come for you.

Your second thought, when you hear Danny’s laughter, bright and loud, is: why the hell is he awake? You can tell from the light outside that it’s barely morning. You hadn’t been planning on waking up for a few more hours, really. You hear him whisper your name loudly, and you groan, reaching to unzip the door to your tent just slightly.

He’s crouching in front of your tent, wearing a wide smile. “Wanna come jump in the river?”

You wonder for a second if this is some insane, weird dream. You blink and rub your eyes, but no, he’s still there.

“What?” You ask, voice scratchy with sleep.

“We’re gonna do a cold plunge,” he says. “Wanna join?”

“I thought you were a bear, you know.” You say, and he grins impossibly wider.

He makes a low growling noise. Behind him, near the fire ring, you hear one of his friends laugh. He rolls his eyes and reaches his hand out, tapping on the door of the tent.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he says.

“I didn’t bring my swimsuit,” you say. “And I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone call a cold plunge fun.”

Somehow, though, you find yourself following him, and his friends down to the river. You’re not surprised to find they haven’t talked Will into joining- he promises to have hot coffee waiting for all of you. You’re in a pair of spandex shorts and a baggy shirt- the same clothes you’d worn to sleep. Danny’s reassured you that none of them have real swimsuits either, and you figure you can let the clothes dry by the fire while you make breakfast when you get back. The morning is quiet as you all hike to the bank of the river, other than the sound of water getting louder and louder. There’s the bridge you crossed over on the way, and the little pool that Danny had said looked like the perfect spot to jump in.

“You know, when you mentioned jumping in yesterday, I thought you were joking,” you tell him. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?”

“Health,” he deadpans.

You stare at him, wide eyed, waiting for him to expand on the statement. When he doesn’t, you roll your eyes and kick off your shoes anyways. He picks his way down the riverbank, peering over the edge into the pool of water. You follow along, wanting to get it over with.

He turns over his shoulder, grins at you, and then jumps in feet first.

He emerges from the crystal clear water with that same stupid smile on his lips. He wipes droplets of water from his face as he treads water, letting out a loud whoop. You want to scold him for scaring off any potential wildlife, but then he’s waving you in, calling your name. You sigh and brace yourself, consider chickening out for a moment, and then jump in after him.

The icy water shocks your senses so badly that you have to remind yourself to not breathe in underwater. It feels like needles all over your skin for a few moments, then uncomfortable numbness. When you emerge above the surface, you do so with a sharp scream, and to the sound of Danny’s laughter. You shake your head wildly and try to brush the cold water off your face with shaking hands. Then you swim for the bank.

“Gotta stay in,” Danny calls out, and you turn to look at him. “No health benefits if you just jump right back out. Give it a few seconds.”

You glare at him, teeth already chattering. “I think you’re full of shit.”

Even if he is, you stay in the water. You find a spot where your feet can at least touch the bottom. The rest of his friends jump in, too, splashing each other and Danny. You laugh as you watch them, watch the pure joy of a bunch of men turning back into children again. Finally, Danny swims for the bank and reaches for your hand to help pull you out. Your whole body shakes and shivers, and there are no towels to dry off with, because this wasn’t in the plans. There are wool blankets, however, and Danny picks one up and holds it out wide. In a moment of weakness and extreme cold, you let him wrap you up in it. There’s water glistening on his skin- you try not to stare. Nobody’s around to see other than his friends, anyways.

The whole group trudges back up to the campsite, where Will has a fire roaring and water for coffee heating up. You duck into your tent to change into dry clothes, and you take everything other than your underwear back out with you to dry. You’re not ready for the guys to see that this early in the morning.

You sit down on one of the logs, bundled up in a hoodie and sweatpants. Your wet hair drops cold water onto the back of your neck, and you shiver. The guys are still in their tent, and you can hear them chattering with each other. Will is eyeing you warily.

“I really didn’t think they’d talk you into it,” he says, quietly.

You shrug and muffle a yawn into your elbow. “He’s persuasive.”

Will quirks a brow. “Yeah?”

You close your eyes and drag a hand down your face. “Not like that.”

He hums. “The dude obviously has a crush on you.”

You pull your knee up to your chest. “I know. We talked about it. I told him… you know. It’s against the company policy-“

“You do remember how I met my wife, right?” He asks, quietly.

You keep your eyes closed, mostly because you don’t want to see the look on his face. “Yeah. Shut up.”

“Just saying,” he says, softly.

Before you can respond, there’s a commotion from the tent. You open your eyes to Danny stumbling his way towards the two of you, now dressed in a fuzzy sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. He saunters over to you and stops short, warming his hands on the fire.

“Well? Feeling the health effects?” He asks.

“I feel like a drowned rat,” you state, glaring up at him.

“You look like a drowned rat,” Will chimes in. You elbow him harshly.

“Mm, no, cuter than a drowned rat. Maybe a drowned koala. A drowned puppy?” Danny suggests, then frowns. “Alright, never mind, that felt morbid.”

The three of you laugh. One by one, his friends make appearances. Will hands out coffee and asks about the river, and you smile at the retelling of events. Eventually, you pack up all the gear- with help from everyone, a happy change from most groups, and head down the trail once again.

You know Danny will forget about you after he leaves, but you wonder if you’ll ever be able to lead another camping trip to this spot without thinking of him.

…..

Danny sticks to his word- he doesn’t make a move again. He does continue to spend time with you. You’re not exactly complaining, but it doesn’t make your decision any easier. He finds you on the back porch the next morning after the camping trip and resumes your morning coffee tradition. You put the book down fully this time- slip the bookmark into your page and close the cover. Your time may be limited with him, but you’re going to soak up every second.

You’re trying desperately not to get attached. It’s not working. He’s telling you a story about Australia, about his ranch there, about the dirt bikes and his parents and everything in between. And you sit there and regret ever telling him he couldn’t kiss you.

You know it was the right choice. Know it’ll only cause you heartbreak. But he’s so attractive, and sweet, and he loves his mother- his mum, even the way he says it is cute. You want to tell him you changed your mind. You sip your coffee instead.

You’ll be able to survive the rest of the week. Danny and his friends leave on Saturday. It’s Thursday now. That’s only a few more interactions, if you’re lucky. Only a couple more back porch morning coffee meetings, a few more drinks at the bar. You’ll survive, he’ll leave, and you’ll both move on. He probably already has.

Then you’re in the break room and you hear someone mention the Friday bonfire and Danny’s name in the same sentence, and your heart drops.

You and your coworkers have bonfires down by the employee housing every Friday. People who are working join after their shifts, and you all rotate the early Saturdays to make sure everyone can have a good time at least once a month. It’s your way to unwind. It’s supposed to be employees only, and sometimes a couple people’s friends. The only guests who’ve ever attended a bonfire since you started working at the lodge were a girl named Britt and her friends, and now Britt is married to your coworker Will.

“So Danny actually said they’d be at the bonfire?” Will asks, and you turn to stare at them.

Maybe he’s not talking about your Danny. You shake your head, knowing that calling him yours, even in your head, is stupid.

“Danny?” You ask. “Like- Danny?”

Will nods.

“What happened to no guests at bonfires?” You ask, turning towards the coffee maker to start another pot.

Tony, one of the kitchen staff, laughs. “Yeah, sure, but it’s a bit different when it’s Danny Ric, isn’t it?”

You shake your head in confusion and turn back to your two coworkers. “Have you even met him, Tony? Why are you out here calling him nicknames?”

Tony blinks widely at you. “That’s what everyone calls him.”

“Everyone.”

Tony nods and shovels a forkful of pasta into his mouth. You grimace. Will watches the two of you, an amused smile on his face. Someone calls Tony’s name, and he goes racing towards the kitchen, leaving his pasta abandoned on the table. You turn your stare to Will. Suddenly, you realize something.

“He’s like…” you sigh and sink down into a nearby chair. “He doesn’t just work for Red Bull, does he?”

Will laughs. “He told you he was in Scotty James’ wedding and you really thought he was just some company exec?”

“Will, I barely know who Scotty is!” You snap. “You should’ve told me.”

Will shrugs and pats your shoulder when he walks past you. “It was more fun this way. Besides, if he didn’t tell you, bet he didn’t want you to know.”

“What does he-“ you cut yourself off. “I mean, is he an athlete, then?”

Will is scraping food from his plate into the compost bin. “You ever heard of Formula One?”

You pick at your salad. “It’s like NASCAR, isn’t it?”

He makes a coughing noise. “Okay, maybe don’t start with that. I’ll give you a basic rundown.”

When you do see Danny the next morning, bright and early, you choose to start with, “good morning, Danny Ric,” instead.

He pauses halfway across the porch, hands at his sides. His skin is glistening with sweat. You’re wearing sunglasses- the perfect chance to let your eyes wander, just a little bit. He wipes at his brow and cocks his head.

“You don’t just work for Red Bull,” you say, and he chews on his lower lip. “I mean, understatement of the century.”

He laughs at that and takes a few steps towards you. “Yeah. Sorry.”

You shrug. “You could’ve told me, you know. I wouldn’t have treated you any differently.”

Instead of going for his normal spot in the chair next to yours, he stands in front of you. If he moved just an inch farther, his knee would touch yours. He sighs.

“I know. It wasn’t that. Honestly, I just figured you wouldn’t care,” he says with a shrug. “Like. You must get so many people here trying to convince you they’re not boring. It’s gotta get exhausting.”

You laugh at that. “Yeah, but your job is actually interesting,” you say. “You know, it does explain all the running. And all the adrenaline chasing.”

He finally sits down- you breath a sigh of relief. You weren’t really sure how he’d feel if you brought it up, but you hated the idea of knowing something about him without him knowing. You stick to your word- you don’t treat him differently. You pick your book back up and read for a bit until he gets fidgety, until he decides he wants to tell you another story. And then you listen with a smile, because it’s Danny. The joy is infectious.

…..

“You ever been to Yosemite?” He asks you later that afternoon.

You’re working the lunch shift at the bar. Danny had been wandering through the lobby, spotted you, and sat down for a drink. He’s having a mocktail, something you came up with just for him. You wonder how long it’ll be before one of his entourage comes looking for him. His phone has been buzzing repeatedly on the bar, and he’s been ignoring it.

You shake your head. “Not yet. It’s on my bucket list,” you say.

He nods. “That’s where we’re headed next. Spending a week there, and then it’s back to work.”

You blow out a long breath through pursed lips. “Your life is so difficult,” you say, teasingly.

He grins and shakes his head. “Wanna come with?”

You laugh as you scrub at a spot on the bar. You wait for him to echo the sound. He doesn’t. You look up at him, wide eyed. He should be laughing, he always laughs at his own jokes- it should be annoying, but it’s sort of endearing, the way he can’t finish a sentence sometimes, how he doesn’t make it to the punchline.

But he’s not laughing. “I’m being serious,” he says.

“Danny,” you say with a soft sigh. “We have a policy-“

“As friends,” he interrupts. “I promised I wouldn’t pressure you. That’s not what this is. You’re just… really cool, and we’ve got room in the car, and… I could really use your s’mores skills. Blake is shit at it.”

You cock your head at him. “I have to work. Not all of us get week long vacations in the middle of tourist season.”

He lets out a long sigh. “Right. Yeah.”

“Sorry,” you say, realizing you’re being a little harsh. “And thank you. The invite is really sweet. I just…”

I just can’t look at you without wanting to kiss you. The words are there, at the forefront of your mind and on the top of your tongue. It’s becoming a real problem, because he’s about to leave and you’re going to be stuck here, waiting and hoping he comes back. And he’s sitting here, asking you to go to a national park with him, and you want to say yes so badly because you think that maybe kissing him would be the best thing you’ve ever done. That maybe letting him in might be the right choice.

But he’s a guest, it’s against the rules, and he’s leaving. He sighs and nods, downs the last of his mocktail. He finally picks up his phone and raises his brows, then gives you a sheepish look.

“Gotta go,” he says, softly. “But I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

You nod. “See you tonight.”

…..

You take your time getting ready for the bonfire. It’s difficult- usually you wouldn’t think twice about what you’re going to wear, or what you look like. But Danny’s going to be there, and suddenly everything’s different. You have a thin line to walk- go all out, and your coworkers will notice and tease you. Don’t put in enough effort, and maybe Danny won’t even look your way tonight.

You eventually settle on a pair of jeans and a crew neck sweatshirt. The sun has just gone down, and there’s already a chill in the air. You make your way down to the bonfire area, following the well worn trail and the smell of smoke.

Danny’s already there, standing around near the firepit. His friends are all scattered with the rest of your coworkers, eating hot dogs that were cooked over the fire and chatting. Someone’s set up lawn games, far enough from the firepit to keep anyone from getting injured. You grab a drink from the cooler and make your way towards the group, trying not to stare at Danny.

He calls out your name, though, in front of everyone, which gives you a valid excuse to make your way towards him. You weave through throngs of people and end up right by his side. He’s been chatting with Will and Britt, which you think is probably a dangerous combination for your sake.

“Bout time you showed up,” Danny says brightly. “I’m in s’mores withdrawal, and once I’ve had one of yours, I can’t go back.”

You laugh and kick your toe at the ground. “I told you, I did absolutely nothing different.”

“Nah, he’s right,” Britt chimes in, and you throw a glare in her direction. “You’re a s’mores magician.”

You sigh and roll your eyes, and then you turn to Danny. “You get me the supplies and I’ll make you a s’more.”

He bounces away eagerly. Both Will and Britt are watching you with knowing looks. Feeling childish, you stick your tongue out at them. Will manages to look vaguely offended, while Britt just laughs.

Danny returns with a roasting stick and all the s’mores ingredients. You take them without complaint, watching his hands as he gets the crackers and chocolate set up. He follows you closer to the fire as you search for just the right spot.

“He kept burning his to a crisp on the camping trip,” you tell Britt, a teasing lilt to your voice. “That’s why I made him one. He was helpless.”

Britt laughs. Danny jabs at your side, and you let out a yelp. Your drink is hanging from your other hand, and you take a sip before you stick the marshmallows over the fire. Across the fire, Tony, the guy who called Danny Danny Ric, is watching you with wide eyes and whispering to one of your other coworkers. This is what you were worried about- get close to Danny, and people will start talking. But he’s leaving tomorrow, and you can’t bring yourself to care.

“See, it’s not about the flames,” you tell Danny, who leans closer to listen. You gesture with your beer. “It’s the coals. You find the right spot, and then you gotta have patience. It’s a slow process.”

He lets out a hiss. “M’not good at patience. Or slow.”

You roll your eyes and smirk. “I’m sure you’re very fast.”

He gasps in mock hurt and digs his fingers into your ribs again. You squeak and bat his hand away.

“You’re gonna ruin the marshmallows!” You warn as he reaches for you again.

He pulls his hand back and smiles innocently. You take a sip of your drink and stare up at him through your lashes, the same way he does to you when he’s sitting at the bar. You wonder if it has the same effect on him as it does on you. From the way he swallows, you think it might.

…..

You’ve only had a couple drinks, because as much as you’ve said you’re going to forget about him, you really do want to remember every last moment. It gets late far too quickly. The stars are out, and the moon too, casting everything in a silvery glow. The moonlight paints one side of Danny’s face- the fire, the other. Warm and cold at the same time.

More than half the people who started the night there have wandered back to their rooms and cabins. Danny’s friends all went to bed a while ago, gave him stern instructions to join them soon. They’re leaving early tomorrow, getting up with the sun and heading out. He needs sleep.

Instead, he’s sitting next to you on a log next to the fire. Your knees are touching, shoulders brushing with every movement. He’s nursing his second beer of the night. You stare at the rose tattoo on his hand and fight the urge to trace the inked lines.

He nudges your shoulder lightly. You stare up at him, face warm, not from the fire.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head?” He asks, voice low.

You shrug. You can’t tell him. I want to kiss you. I want to feel your hands on me. I want to read the tattoo on your chest, trace the lines of all of them. I want you. I changed my mind. Except, really, you’ve wanted this the whole time.

“Just tired,” you say instead, rubbing your thumb against the can in your hand. “I know it’s your last night here and all, but I might head to bed.”

It hits you like a sucker punch as you say it- if you go now, you’re saying goodbye. You could get up early and see him off, but you think that’d be a bit much. He seems to realize it too- his face drops.

“I’ll walk you back,” he offers.

“You don’t have to,” you answer.

You want him to. But you know what you’ll do if you make it to the door of your cabin and he’s standing next to you. You know the choice you’ll make. You’ll regret it in the morning when he’s gone and already forgetting about you, when you’re just the girl he hooked up with at the lodge on his vacation, when he goes back to his life of luxury and supermodels and-

“I want to,” he says, softly. “There’s bears here, you know.”

He growls lowly, right near your ear. You giggle to cover up the way it makes you feel like you’re on fire. When he stands and holds out his hand to help you up, you let him. He says goodbye to a couple people. You avoid Will and Britt’s gazes. Then the two of you set off down the path.

He keeps his distance. I’m not going to push you on this, because I don’t want to be a creep. But if you change your mind… You reach out, bump your hand against his. Knuckle to knuckle. He echoes the touch. Then you wiggle your fingers against his, desperately hoping he gets the message. When he tangles his fingers with yours, something slips into place.

There’s this energy thrumming in your body when you make it to the cabin area. You’re sure you’re shaking with it, even more sure that he’s noticed. You head for your cabin and squeeze his fingers. It’s dark here, nothing but the light of the moon to see by. You walk up to the door, his hand still in yours.

“D’you wanna come in for a drink?” You ask, trying desperately to sound nonchalant.

He squeezes your fingers. You turn over your shoulder and meet his eyes. They’re half lidded and dark. Like he knows where this is going.

“I don’t want to pressure you,” he says. “That’s not what this was about. I don’t-“

“I know,” you say with a nod. “I know.”

He nods, ducks his head. You push open the cabin door and step inside, hand still linked with his. He takes a deep breath.

“I won’t be offended if you don’t want to,” you say, softly. “You can change your mind, too.”

His eyes slip closed, and he shakes his head. Then he follows you in through the open door.

He’s the one to shut it. And then his hand slips from yours and falls to your hip, pulling you close. You wrap your arms around his neck. Your heart is racing in your chest. You wonder if his is too. You blink up at him, watching the way his jaw clenches.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks again, for the second time in a week.

“Please?” You ask, softly.

It’s like all his resolve disappears with that one single word. The night fades around you- it's just you and him. Nothing else matters.

His lips are hot and insistent against yours. When his hands fall to your hips, they’re even hotter and more insistent. He walks you back towards the bed, shoving at your sweatshirt and the t-shirt underneath it. You do the same with his hoodie, hands scrambling underneath, searching for skin. The skin you’ve been looking at all week, wishing you could touch- you can, now.

He’s in your room, in your space, and he backs you up to the bed. Your knees hit the mattress, and you fall back, away from his kissing, with a soft laugh. You stare up at him through your lashes, your whole body on fire. His hand falls to your knee and draws a slow line up your thigh. You reach up and tug on the hem of his sweatshirt, chest already rising and falling rapidly.

He leans over you, and you know your hand in the neck of the fabric, trying to pull him closer. He has himself propped up over you with one hand, eyes lit up like firelight, lips parted.

“Kiss me,” you whine, as his palm falls to your hip and squeezes. “Danny-“

His lips meet yours again, and it’s frantic after that. You shove his shirt over his head- yours follows it to the pile on the floor. He steps out of his jeans after you undo the button and the zipper, and then he’s tugging your pants down your legs, breath catching in his chest as he gazes down at you. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, biting down, and you trace fingers up the ridges of his abdomen. He traces a line from your navel up the center of your chest, presses his thumb to your lips, and you whine.

“Please, Danny,” you breathe.

His eyes slip shut. “M’trying to prove I can be slow and patient.”

You gasp as his hand cups your jaw. “Yeah- well- I can’t, so-“

He laughs lowly, and with his other hand, he hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties. “C’mon, little blackbird,” he says, and you writhe on the bed underneath him as he runs a thumb over your core, pressing into the wetness there. “Sure you can.”

When he sinks to his knees and buries his face between your legs, you thank the stars you didn’t let him leave without getting a taste of this, of him.

…..

After, the two of you lay spent in your bed. You’re tracing lines on his bare skin, both still naked. There are marks all over your bodies- hickies and fingerprints and bite marks. You’ll be feeling him inside of you for days, you’re sure. You run your finger under the words on his chest. Of Love And Life.

You know the song, so you start to whistle it. His laughter rumbles under your ear, deep in his chest, and then he starts to sing along with your whistling. It’s silly. If you told any of your friends about it, they’d cringe. But you feel the vibration of the words under his ribs and wish you could stay like this forever.

Eventually he stops singing, and you stop whistling. His hand sweeps up your bare back, fingers drawing shapes on your spine.

“Your cabin is cute,” he says.

You pick your head up and rest your chin on your hand that lays flat on his chest. “Thanks.”

He nods towards the poster on the wall. Yosemite is written in big letters, and you sigh.

“Offer’s still open,” he says, quietly. “No pressure. But.”

You let your eyes fall closed. “Danny.”

He cranes his neck up to press a kiss to your cheek. “I know. Sorry. I just don’t want to say goodbye yet.”

“We won’t say goodbye then. We’ll say see you later,” you suggest. It’s cheesy, but it feels right. “And you can stay the night, if you want.”

You expect him to say no. You’re sure his friends are going to panic when they realize he’s not in the room. But he just nods and pulls you close, and you rest your head on his chest again, and soon enough, you’re falling asleep, just like that.

You wake up the next morning before the sun is even up. The alarm on his phone is going off, and he’s doing a very bad job of muffling his swearing as scrambles out of bed to search for it. You tug the blankets over your head and groan until he shuts the noise off. You hear his footsteps, heading back to the bed. He tugs the blanket down so he can see your eyes and leans close.

“I gotta go, baby,” he says, quietly. It’s like it pains him.

“Yeah, I know,” you say, feeling like it pains you just as much.

He kisses your forehead and pulls the blanket down farther. He sits down on the edge of your bed and plants on hand right next to your head. You turn your face, press your lips to the inside of his wrist. Then you wrap your hand around his bicep and sigh.

“Thank you,” he says. “I had an amazing time this week. Wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

You laugh and squeeze his arm. “You just liked the s’mores.”

“No, I-“

“I know. Me too. Thank you,” you say.

He kisses your lips one more time. You press your hand to his cheek and try to burn this into your brain. Then he kisses your forehead again and stands up with a long stretch.

“See you later, mirlo,” he says, sounding more unsure than you’ve ever heard him.

“See you later,” you echo.

You watch him leave. Watch him walk to the door, watch the slope of his shoulders under his sweatshirt. Something awful twists in your chest.

“Hey, Danny, do me a favor?” You call out. He turns, brows raised.. “Try not to forget me, yeah?”

The corner of his lips tugs up into a half smile. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

You close your eyes so you don’t have to watch him leave. You hear the latch of the door and bury your face in your pillow, resisting the urge to scream. You’d have at least three of your coworkers at the door if you did. The last thing you need is to alert anyone of Danny’s presence in your cabin, though they probably already know. You don’t want to give them any sort of confirmation, though. You roll over in bed and open your eyes, and you’re met with bright blue fabric, folded neatly on top of the other pillow. Danny’s t-shirt, left behind. Deliberately, it seems, from the way it’s folded. It’s some souvenir shirt from a ski chalet you’ve never heard of. He’d been wearing it the night before- you took it off of him. He left it on purpose for you to find. For you to have. In your moment of weakness, you grab it and press it to your nose and breathe in. That’s when you realize you’re absolutely never getting over him.

And then, you think. He left his shirt. He wanted you to have something to remember him by. In all of this, maybe you’re not the only one afraid of being forgotten. He’s larger than life, he’s a damn celebrity, but he’s leaving a little piece of him behind so you have a reminder. Like he knows you’ll put the shirt in your drawer and feel that feeling in your chest every time you reach for a different one. The bright blue is permanently burned into your brain.

Feeling especially self pitying, you reach for your phone, knowing that your camera roll from the past week is filled with pictures of him. May as well wallow in it, right?

…..

Danny throws the last bag into the trunk of the car and sighs. Blake slaps his shoulder, heavy handed, so hard it almost hurts. Maybe he needs that.

He’s been looking all over for you. He’d thought maybe you’d come to see them off, or that he’d at least see you once more before he left. But you’re not on the back porch reading, and you’re not in the restaurant, and you’re not in the employee break room, either. He thinks about going to your cabin and then realizes that would be crazy, and probably a little creepy. You’ve already said goodbye- or see you later, but still.

Someone starts the car. He drags a hand down his face. “I need coffee,” he says, and Blake nods.

Danny jerks his thumb towards the lodge and then walks in to grab a cup to go. He’s only delaying the inevitable, really. If you were going to show up to say goodbye, you’d already be there. He should just be happy with what he’s had. Happy that you let him in the way you did. He should’ve known it would only leave him wanting more, but it’s a bit late for that now.

He walks back outside, cup of coffee in hand, a frown on his face. His friends are packing the last bags and climbing into the car, and Blake is-

He nearly trips over his own feet, nearly spills his coffee down his chest. Because Blake is talking to you. You’re standing there, a book in one hand, his blue t-shirt in the other. His gut twists. Blake sees Danny and backs away to give the two of you space. Danny’s heart is racing as he walks up to you.

You hold the shirt out to him. “You left this.”

He left it on purpose, and he thought that was pretty obvious. Maybe that was unfair. Maybe it was selfish of his to want to leave a reminder of himself for you. He frowns and reaches for the shirt, tries to take it from your hand. You don’t let go when he pulls on it, and he looks at you in confusion.

“You left it on purpose,” you say, quietly.

He nods and swallows. “I didn’t want you to forget me, either.”

You nod back. You’re staring up at him, this knowing look in your eyes that has him frozen right in place. His heart skips a beat in his chest. You tilt your head towards the trunk of the car- there’s another bag sitting there, on top of all the rest of them.

“Blake says that seat’s still open,” you say, and he holds his breath. “And Will texted me this morning and said they’ve covered all my shifts for the week, for some reason.” He shrinks under your gaze, knowing that’s probably because he mentioned the Yosemite trip, and his inviting you, to Will. “So.”

“So,” he echoes, a little bit scared to believe that what he thinks is happening actually is.

You shrug and shoot him a bright, sunny smile. “I’ve always wanted to see Yosemite. And you need a s’mores girl. Still want me to come along?”

When he sweeps you into a big, dramatic kiss, right there on the front lawn of the lodge, you don’t complain. You just wrap your arms around him and kiss him back. In the trees above your heads, a blackbird sings.

for posterity’s sake please let it be known that i mostly finished this on January 31st, 2024, and then woke up to the news that Lewis Hamilton is going to ferrari in 2025. I feel like that is an important detail to be known. I decided to post it anyways. Thanks for reading the longest fic i have ever written i hope you enjoyed 💛

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo fic #Daniel Ricciardo oneshot #Daniel Ricciardo #danny ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fluff #Daniel Ricciardo fanfic #Daniel Ricciardo imagine #danny ricciardo #Danny Ricciardo fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fluff

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rin-fukuroi · 3 months

Text

𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 [𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Aventurine x dealer!fem!reader

Warnings: gambling, sexual tension.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq I'm just starting my blog on Boosty, but I'll be glad if you support me with a subscription and read the full NSFW version of this work there. Soon there will be other works that will not be published on Tumblr.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. VIVIZ — MANIAC

You have long heard from other casino employees about a certain visitor, which comes here quite often, but you have never been lucky enough to meet him until today. The girls sighed languidly, referring to him as a handsome man, preparing to serve him the best drink, for which he would pay generously, and the men working in security only irritably noted that if he visited the institution today, they would only have more work. Then you didn't pay any attention to their words until one of the bar staff squealed with delight, energetically pointing at the blond man who entered the hall.

A dazzling smile, a light gait, but a sly look hidden behind gold glasses, gliding across the tables and the employees standing behind them before playfully sparkling violet-blue eyes rest on you. Your back straightens reflexively, and your fingers wrap around the back of your hand, and you nod in greeting when several men, led by a blond man, approach your poker table. You have been working in the field of gambling for several years, so you can easily notice expensive watches, chains and rings on his hands and a long earring in the ear of an elegant man in a hat, dressed in a black jacket with a fur collar, a turquoise shirt with a small but provocative neckline on the chest and white trousers with patent leather shoes. In total, all the clothes and trinkets of this person can be compared to the cost of your life. Winning will not matter to him, as losing will not greatly affect the quality of his life, which means he simply enjoys a sense of excitement and superiority, since, according to rumors, he plays very well.

«Well…»

— Oh? I haven't seen you before, — the blond man lowers his glasses on the bridge of his nose, smiling slyly at you as soon as you raise your head.

— I'm sorry, sir, today I'm serving you, because the dealer who is more familiar to you is ill, but I assure you, this will not affect the quality of the time spent in our institution in any way, — you kindly answer with a calm expression on your face, which causes the blonde to chuckle softly.

— How official! Relax, honey, — the man leans lower, slightly tilting his head to one side, carefully watching how the expression on your face changes to a more tense one. — It's a pity that… Oh, what was her name? — the blonde pulls away, thinking for a second, trying to remember the name of your colleague, but in the end only sighs briefly, spreading his hands. — It doesn't matter. You've been brought up to date, that we're going to need a separate room, haven't you?

— Yes, sir. Please follow me.

An unpleasant person. It was clear from afar that it was better to stay as far away from him as possible. These vibes of nauseating self-confidence and narcissism definitely don't bode well, but you still humbly do your duty, pulling on a smile and letting the guests into the VIP-room. Usually this room is rented by companies of influential people whose names are so well known to everyone that such guests don't even bother to introduce themselves, because you always know who they are, but these men… You're seeing them for the first time.

Anyway, a job is a job.

— Have a seat, dear guests. Would you like to see the bar menu?

Men in suits silently take their seats, and only an energetic blonde immediately responds to the sound of your voice, standing in front of the last empty chair.

— We'll order the same as usual,— the stranger says sweetly, spreading into a frighteningly sweet smile that sends chills down my spine.

— I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't know…

— Oh, how could I forget! — the blond man clasps his hands in a gesture of apology. — Whiskey on the rocks.

His theatricality is a little annoying, but that's none of your business.

— As you wish, sir.

The female silhouette peeking out from behind the slightly open door and instantly disappearing after the blonde's words only made your task easier, allowing you not to even leave the room. It seems that this man is really very popular among girls, which, in principle, isn't surprising. A pretty face, a thick purse and a sugary voice, like a demeanor, are the pillars that support the classic image of a heartthrob in the eyes of any woman. It would be fascinating if you hadn't met such people before. This place is teeming with both men and women, sometimes even reasonably believing that the whole world belongs to them. Perhaps you would have bought into his charisma too, if you were as frivolous as a bar employee rushing into a room no more than five minutes after the order was placed.

— Thank you, dear. As always, you help out, otherwise my friends seem to be out of sorts today, — the blond man chuckles melodiously, looking at the other five guests. You can almost see in their stern looks the desire to strangle this talkative flatterer, and you can't help but chuckle to yourself.

— Anything for our beloved visitor! Have a nice game, — your friend blushes, smiling shyly before leaving the room, barely restraining a satisfied squeak.

You modestly clear your throat, drawing the attention of everyone at the table to yourself.

— Well, gentlemen, shall we begin?

You leave the button* in front of the blond man sitting first on your left hand. Early* is the most unfavorable position to start the game, but he should have known about it when he sat down here, or is it just an accident?

After the preflop*, while you were deftly shuffling the deck in your hands, someone had already started emptying their glass of whiskey, someone took out a pair of fragrant chocolate cigars. The blonde just watched carefully how skillfully you dealt the cards, not missing a single movement of your fingers. For a second, you even doubted that he didn't trust the new dealer, but every time you dared to look at him, his lips stretched into an even more sugary smile, and his eyes always found yours. Is he trying to get you into the same emotions as the silly waitresses? You wonder how soon he'll lose interest in your indifferent face?

The game went on quite calmly until three people remained at the table, including a smiling blond man.

— Ace of hearts, two of spades, jack of hearts, ten of clubs, two of hearts. The bets are made, you can open, — you say in a monotone voice, glancing at the cards on the table that turn over one by one.

«Street? Not bad…» — you stop looking at the blond's cards before you hear a thud on the table. After looking at the other hands it became clear that there is nothing on the table stronger than two pairs.

— Oh, don't get mad! We've just started, — the blond man raises his hands in an innocent gesture, chuckling softly, it seems, making the man opposite even angrier.

It seems that now you understand a little what the casino guards were so unhappy about, but the more games passed, the more sad the blonde's position became. The empty glasses were hastily replaced with newly filled ones with a new portion of whiskey, and the concentration of smoke in the small room became more and more suffocating, it seems, only exposing the undisguised glee of the men at the table, allowing themselves to mock the blonde, who was catastrophically unlucky today. A flush* against a royal flush, a pair against a square* and, in the end, his hand could only boast of the highest card*. What a disappointment.

— Here, order yourself one more whiskey, — one of the departing men casually tossed a couple of chips in front of the blond man sprawled on a chair, grinning hoarsely before staggering slightly out of the room after the other four, whose loud voices disappeared into the noise of the casino outside the door.

— Sure, — the man who remained at the table smiled gently at the departing acquaintance before taking a sip from his glass.

You wanted to say something, maybe even encourage him, but it's not your way to mind your own business, so you just silently gathered the cards from the table, about to ask the guest to leave the room, when suddenly he spoke first.

— That's not what you expected, is it? — you turn to the blond man, who is resting his head on his own palm. The same strange smile is still playing on his lips, even despite how much money he left at this institution today. He's really weird.

— I don't know what you mean. I don't know how you play, so I couldn't even try to predict the outcome of the game.

— Come on. You know how I play. That girl from the bar told you about me, didn't she?

Annoy.

— Even so, I'm not used to trust rumors, — you reply indifferently, carefully putting the cards back in the box.

— In that case, now you can conclude that I'm a lousy player? Oh, that would be unfortunate, because everyone has unlucky days.

— I don't think it's about luck, — you wanted to say that someone should just drink less and make less risky bets, but you restrained yourself, maintaining professionalism.

— Ho-oh? Then what is it? — the blond man perked up even more, waiting curiously for your answer.

— It is not appropriate for me to give advice to visitors, because my earnings, among other things, depend on them.

— That's how it is! So I was wrong when I decided that you weren't like the other girls looking at my wallet?

— It turns out that it is. But I'm looking at the wallets of every potentially profitable player for me, — you shrug your shoulders. — And now, if you'll excuse me, you should leave the room, since the game is over.

— How pragmatic, you remind me of someone I know, — the blond man, as if he hadn't heard your last words, gets up from his chair, coming closer. — So you don't believe in luck, huh?

The man leans slightly forward, looking into your eyes from under the half-lowered glasses on the bridge of his nose. The expensive sweet fragrance of the perfume instantly cuts into your nostrils, and you take a small step back.

— It's absurdly to rely only on luck in poker. That's all I wanted to say.

— Hm-m … — the blond man pretends to think. — You're right. Then what about roulette?

— Even roulette has its own patterns, but if we don't go into details, of course, this game revolves exclusively around chance.

— Great! Then can we play? — the man turns towards the roulette table, which has apparently not been used for a long time, in the corner of the room.

— I'm afraid my shift is already over… — you frown, even before you finish, he interrupts you.

— Oh, I was so catastrophically unlucky today that I just want to win back at least another game, otherwise I won't be able to sleep peacefully tonight… Are you really that heartless?

— You can use the services of a croupier and play roulette in the hall.

— It would be sad, because I already liked you, — the blonde smiles, looking into your eyes again.

— If you're trying to flirt with me like that, then I'm in a hurry to upset you — it won't work, — you reply irritably, about to leave, when suddenly a weak grip on your wrist stops you.

— I'm sad to hear that, but what if I make a bet?

You turn around, batting your eyelashes in puzzlement when you meet the sharp gaze of a man's violet-blue eyes.

— You can't play roulette without betting, what's the point of all this?

— Let's say… if my bet plays out, you owe me a kiss, what do you say?

You almost boil with anger, looking at this personification of self-confidence standing in front of you.

— I'm not going to play your games, let go of my hand.

The attempt to pull back your hand was unsuccessful, on the contrary, only forcing the blond to pull you closer.

— It seems that luck isn't on my side today, so if I lose, I'll just leave.

The desire to just slap him in the face is almost impossible to ignore, but you wouldn't be working here if you weren't a gambling person too. Your lips stretch into an arrogant smile as you approach the blond man's face, slightly squinting your eyes.

— In that case, on what number* will you put it on?

The blond man's eyebrows rise, after which a ringing laugh is heard in the room.

— I knew you could entertain me! — the man lets go of your hand, but does not take a step away from you before saying softly. — I'm betting on zero.

«He's crazy!»

You almost laughed at how crazy his bet turned out to be, but it sounds like he's already agreed to leave you alone, so you just smiled, silently retreating to the corner of the dimly lit room. The table has indeed not been used for a long time, having already become covered with a layer of dust, but you take a small ball, gently rolling it in your hand before turning towards the blond man who remains standing at the poker table. He doesn't seem to care at all that he's going to lose now, and the smile doesn't leave his face for a second. It will be all the sweeter to see how the expression on his face will change when he loses.

— Your bet is accepted, — you say loudly before spinning the roulette wheel by throwing a ball at it.

The man doesn't even look at the spinning roulette wheel, instead watching your eyes follow the ball as it slides across the sectors.

12, 35, 3, 26, and finally….

— It can't be… — you whisper, eyes wide open and just looking at how the ball stopped at zero.

— Ho-oh? What's is it? Judging by your reaction, did I win? — the blond man grins, slowly removing his hat from his head and leaving the hat on the edge of the poker table.

This can't be happening. Betting on numbers is always a huge risk, because the chance that the ball will stop at the chosen one is incredibly small. Was he… really just lucky?

You purse your lips, summoning all the self-control you have to turn to the man with an indifferent expression on your face.

— That's right, congratulations on winning, sir.

— M-m… it's not just a win, you remember the conditions, right? — the blond man says playfully, slowly walking towards you, until finally he towers over you, elegantly ripping the glasses off his face.

«This jerk has probably been rehearsing this for years…»

— I didn't have to accept such bets at all, — you mutter irritably.

— I understand your disappointment, but still, you accepted it. Be kind enough to hand me my prize, — you look into the extraordinarily beautiful eyes of a man, trying your best to deny how really attractive he looks without glasses and a hat.

— Ahem… okay. But can I at least get your name? I wouldn't want to kiss a complete stranger.

— Huh? So you don't know who I am? How cute, — the blond man squints, breaking into a smile. — You can call me Aventurine. And you… — the man hooks the badge on your chest with the tip of his finger. — Y/N.

Where have all your old composure gone? They probably got lost somewhere in the midst of this madness, which for some reason you signed up for, following your own excitement. Self-confidence is just as much your enemy as Aventurine, only in this case he is elated with victory, and you are trying to collect your thoughts in order to fulfill the conditions of the game he started.

— Excuse me… — you mumble awkwardly before pressing your lips to the man's cheek, leaving as quick a kiss as possible to hastily turn away, hiding the blush that has appeared on your face.

— Hey! And what was that? — Aventurine says in disappointment, touching the place of your kiss with the tips of his black-gloved fingers.

— You asked for a kiss, but didn't specify which one, — you try to sound confident, but still mentally berate yourself for not being able to look into his eyes right now.

— Oh… — the blond man sighs heavily, pulling away and approaching the roulette table. — I'm not satisfied with such a victory. Let's do it again.

— Huh?! — you cry out indignantly, looking at the back of the impudent man rolling the ball around the zero sector. — I shouldn't be here at all, and neither should you!

— I'm betting on zero again.

You freeze, raising an eyebrow when you turn to Aventurine.

— You're going to lose.

— Maybe, — the man shrugs, turning to face you and leaning on the edge of the table. — But if the bet plays out again, you'll give me a real long kiss.

— I'm not going to waste my time on this madness. The chances of hitting zero a second time are so small that it's easier for you to just leave this room right now, since it's simply impossible to play this bet.

— Let it be so. You don't lose anything if you're so sure of my defeat, do you? Besides, didn't you say that you don't give advice to the players?

It annoys you how logical his words sound. But what's even more annoying is that you really doubt it. It's just not possible. You have to show this arrogant idiot his place.

— Okay, — and here you go back to the roulette table again. — But if you lose, you will never return to this casino again.

Aventurine's purple eyes widen before flashing a gambling spark.

— And you know how to make the game more interesting, — the man grins, picking up the ball from the table, carefully leaving it in your hand. — I agree.

This will be the craziest bet anyone has ever made in the entire existence of this casino. And it only fuels your interest too. You spin the wheel in anticipation by throwing the ball. Your heart is pounding in your chest, as if your own life is at stake. It's been a long time since you've experienced such adrenaline, no matter how absurd what's happening, because it's worth it to win…

— Ha-ha! It seems that today is really my day, — Aventurine grins as the ball slowly rolls and stops at sector zero. Again. — The money I lost in poker was worth spending all my luck on such a tempting prize.

Impossible. He just did the impossible. What were the chances? The mind is so devastated by shock that you can't even approximate the probability, just silently looking at the green sector in amazement.

— You're not… cheating, are you? — you're almost whispering, without opening your eyes from the little ball.

— What cruel accusations! How, tell me, could I cheat at roulette? — the man clicks his tongue in frustration, slowly wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling your body towards his. — If these are just assumptions without any evidence, I think it's time to start awarding the second prize.

The lips open, releasing a soft sigh into the air. You feel the warmth emanating from his body, the smell that his nauseatingly expensive clothes exude, and you feel his measured breathing on the skin of your face when Aventurine bends down, almost touching his lips to yours and freezes.

— I'll make it easier for you this time, — the blond whispers, letting his warm breath caress the delicate skin of your lips.

— What do you mean?.. — the only thing you managed to say right before Aventurine's lips covered yours.

Long fingers dive into your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back, and he deepens the kiss, insistently making his way with his tongue through your lips, which are not too resisting. A soft moan dissolves in Aventurine's mouth, and your fingers desperately cling to the fabric of the shirt on the man's chest, but still you respond to the kiss, allowing your tongue to stick out a little further, slowly waltzing in tandem with his. The shock was instantly replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and a flutter in his chest. It seemed that this kiss lasted forever, so harmonious, gentle, but passionate, as if you have known each other for so long that Aventurine doesn't need much effort to make you melt in his hands, which you allow to touch your body.

Lips gasp for air as soon as Aventurine pulls away, looking at your flushed, relaxed face, which isn't touched by the former cold indifference with which you looked at him all evening.

It's a strange feeling. From the very beginning, when you saw this man, the only thought that you would never in your life become infatuated with just his presence somewhere nearby was ingrained in your head, now fighting for supremacy with the unwillingness that he would let you go. You shouldn't give in to this.

You gently press on Aventurine's chest, shuddering as soon as you feel his warm skin under your fingertips, noticing that you touched this very seductive neckline.

— Is that all? I have to go… — you say softly, trying to get out of Aventurine's hands, but he's not even going to let go of your waist or your cheek, to which his palm is still pressed.

— Really? Well, then I won't hold you back, — the blond man grins, still continuing to prevent your imaginary escape.

— Then let me go. I gave away your winnings and I don't owe you anything else.

— Yes, you did, — the man whispers, gently stroking your cheek with a thumb in a leather glove.

You look at each other without saying a word and freeze like statues. The muffled sounds of slot machines, clinking glasses and laughter come from the hall outside the door, breaking the silence that hangs between the two of you, but you can't hear anything else except your own rapid heartbeat throbbing in your ears. A strange warmth spreads in your chest, gradually sinking down, and a heavy weakness settles in your legs, which doesn't allow you to move from your place.

«What are you doing, Y/N?», — you ask yourself one last time before you swear unintelligibly under your breath, grabbing Aventurine's shirt in order to involve the man in the kiss again. Greedy, careless, but you needed it. The blonde's palm shamelessly moves to your buttocks, covered with black trousers, gently squeezing the elastic flesh, and your fingers slowly slip under the neckline in the shape of an inverted heart, caressing the heated skin of Aventurine's chest.

— W-wait… — you suddenly break off the kiss, breathing heavily and looking at the purple irises covered with long eyelashes.

— What's is it? I won't complain that the dealer is harassing me if you're worried about it, — Aventurine grins, forcing the expression on your face to change to the old irritation.

— This is wrong. I don't have to…

— I don't care about the rules, — the man tilts his head to one side, smiling playfully. — I'm betting on black.

— What? — you ask discouraged, watching the man's fingers hastily undoing the buttons of your white shirt.

— If I win, now you'll be my prize, — Aventurine winks at you before opening the cotton fabric on your chest, noticing you are wearing a black lace bra. — Tsk-tsk, how unlucky you are today. I won again.

✧ ✧ ✧

The button is a special chip marked "D", transmitted clockwise and identifying the dealer (in this case, the dealer is an employee of the casino, so the button only determines who will bet first).

The early position is the player's place at the poker table, located immediately behind the dealer.

Preflop is the initial stage of the poker game, which includes the distribution of cards and the first bets, including blinds.

A straight is a combination of a sequence of five cards.

A hand is a combination of two cards in the player's hands.

A flash combination of five cards of the same suit.

Royal flush is the strongest combination of cards from 10 to ace of the same suit.

A pair is a combination of two cards of the same value (for example, two aces).

A square is a combination of five cards of the same value (for example, four aces).

The highest card is the card of the highest value of all lying on the table.

In roulette, it is possible to bet on one color, on even and odd numbers, and so on, including you can bet on a specific number, which is quite risky due to the reduced chances that such a bet will play, but the winnings from it are multiplied by 35.

#headcanons #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai:star rail #honkai:star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr x you

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kingpreciouswrld · 3 months

Note

If you’re still accepting Miranda Priestly x Reader fic ideas i’ve got one!

Miranda and Reader have been married or a long time now secretly of course to prevent a media mishap. The reader is a stylist who sometimes stops to visit and help with a showcase, maybe she comes in casually to have lunch with Miranda and gets stopped by Andrea and Emily who try to get her to leave as they don’t know her(only Nigel does) and they’re both trying to tell Emily and Andrea that she’s allowed back there without exposing the marriage, eventually Miranda just comes out and asks why they’re touching her wife ( or something of the sort???) feel free to branch from this

ask and ye shall receive!

I hope you like it! It's been a while since I've written for anyone but myself :3

Nobody's Gonna Know

It’s an unusually busy day in your office. The clothes you’ve ordered haven’t arrived yet and your workers seem to not know how to conduct themselves in a manner without the very needed materials. You looked on through the glass doors as your workers ran around like headless chickens, trying to come up with something to show you before you needed to leave.

As a well-known stylist, it was your job to come up with new and creative or out-of-the-box looks to those who paid for your help. You mainly helped with showcases that Runway Magazine held and the clothes you needed today were actually from Runway Magazine. Through the grapevine you’ve heard that their workers were just as clueless as yours when it came to the clothes you were seeking.

As you sat in your little office, you thought back to when you first started out. You were a nobody, hell you weren’t even a New York local. No, you came from a small town in the middle of nowhere. Having nothing to your name, you first tried making it in California. You gained some traction which led you to move to New York. At first you were against it. You didn’t like big cities all that much, it just wasn’t your scene but you knew that your talent and job called for being around big things.

A year into the job, you attended a charity event where you were introduced to the one and only, Miranda Priestly. It was hard to read the woman at first but you saw it in her eyes, she liked you or at least, your work. That’s how it all started. You started to come and do jobs at Runway Magazine while also taking some jobs on the side. Not to mention the growing relationship between you and the editor which also included the lives of her rambunctious daughters and her slobbery saint bernard.

3 years passed and Miranda and you kept things underwraps. Heaven knows you’d have a field day for Page Six and their stinging words, so you have kept your relationship from everyone. Well, everyone except those closest to you.

Sighing, you looked at the clock. It was almost lunch time and Miranda didn’t like to be kept waiting.

You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “Annie, reschedule the runthrough until this afternoon. I’m sure Runway will do the same due to the circumstances with its clothing gone missing. I’m going out for lunch.” Your assistant nodded and frantically went to work at her computer as you passed her.

Making your way to Elias Clarke, you weaved through the small crowds before entering the building– blending in with the clackers around you. No one knew about your relationship with the fashion queen so you easily blended with crowds and you loved it. No one bothered you.

Until they did.

You had made your way up to Runway’s floors when you passed the front desk and made your way towards Miranda’s inner sanctum. You’ve been to Runway multiple times so no one blinked an eye as you strolled down the halls.

Reaching the outer office of Miranda’s, you haven’t intended to actually be stopped by her assistants.

Andy was the first to notice you as Emily was out.

“Oh! Y/n! I’m sorry but Miranda is in a meeting so you wouldn’t be able to go in right away.”

You looked at the clock above the assistant’s desk. 11:56 am. Knowing your wife, you knew she wouldn’t mind if you interrupted her work. She never minded when you did it at home, so why would her workplace be different?

“Trust me, I think Miranda wouldn’t mind Andy. So I’m just gonna…”

You tried to step past the young woman but Andy just stepped in front of you. The assistant’s eyes widened as you tried to step past her again but she blocked your way through.

There was only so much you could do so you sighed as you looked back at the clock.

11:58 am.

This time, you tried to listen for the soft voices coming from your wife’s office. There were only two that you could pick up on. One was, of course, Miranda’s but the other was a man’s voice. Somewhat…feminine? But not too feminine.

“Is it just Nigel and Miranda in there?”

As you tried stepping past the brunette, again she blocked your path.

“Look Y/n, if you keep this up I’m going to have to call security.”

At this time, Emily walked in and took in the scene in front of her, “Andrea? What’s going on here?”

As Andy was distracted, you tried to step past her again but only to be grabbed by the arm and pulled back, away from Miranda’s office door, “Woah! Okay, no touchy, alright? These cost more than your paycheck alright?”

Emily huffed and rolled her eyes but didn’t release you. Andy looked like she was nervous about losing her job. She knew you were stubborn and wouldn’t stop until you were able to see Miranda.

“Since you already have her, escort her to the lobby Em. She’s been trying to break into Miranda’s office. “ ‘Break into’? I’m just trying to see my– ugh, look, I’ll just wait alright? You guys don’t need to be so touchy about–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the brit was already moving towards the front desk area. You immediately stood your ground so the redhead would have a harder time moving you. You’d show them stubborn.

As the three of you were arguing and you were still struggling against Emily’s hold– you didn’t know how the redhead was this strong– you three failed to notice Miranda’s office door open.

“Look, if you let me go, i’ll make sure you still have your job at the end of the day, alright?”

Emily scoffed, “As if you’re so important here, you’re just a small town no one who just happened to meet Miranda and kiss her ass all the way till–”

“Is there a reason you’re restraining my wife?”

Both assistant’s straightened their posture at the cool voice before they realized what she said.

Emily gaped, looking like a fish out of water while Andy looked more afraid of losing her job this time.

Miranda’s eyes were still where Emily had a grip on you and she glared at the redhead, “Let. Go. Emily.”

The brit let your arm go as if your arm burned her and you grumbled as you rubbed your arm, trying to soothe the lingering pain of Emily’s grip. Behind the editor, Nigel looked as if he was about to burst out laughing at the girls’ faces.

“Now, how about some lunch my love?”

#miranda priestly x reader #miranda priestly #tdwp

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lovifie · 2 months

Text

Her Royal Highness Pt.5

Masterlist

Prologue — Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

The people of the city turn out to be delighted, elated to be visited by the Princess. And you feel glad because they don't look at you with the fear the guard had, they look at you with happiness in their eyes, joyful the Princess finally left the castle.

They are so happy, that they don't seem to notice the mysterious men that follow you. Not literally, they remained on a table inside the inn, but you can feel their eyes on you at all times.

It is a nice thing they do, because after a while you start to feel dizzy. People keep pulling you in different directions, wanting to show you places and introduce you to people. You can see the guard from the journey, and he looks ready to pull his hair out every time someone grabs your hand, afraid that you are going to suddenly turn into a tyrant like your late father.

You won't, of course. Getting a taste of what a kingdom that likes you feels like, you don't want to experience the opposite. At some point, the guard loses his patience and peels your hand away from the people, guiding you to the table where everyone else is eating.

“Ooh, the Princess finally resigned herself to sit with us. Such an honour, your Royal Highness.” Gaz exclaims, standing up just to do a dramatic reverence, with Soap doing exactly the same.

“Sit down, you muppets.” The king orders next to you with a teasing note in his voice. So he can be nice. That's how he sounds when normal.

“Yes, my dear King” Soap says, doing a second reference before sitting down. Price snickers beside you at Soap's antics, if only you could get on his good side like that.

Around the rectangular table, you are sitting beside the king on one side, with Gaz, Soap and Ghost sitting on the opposite. Ghost and you are the ones sitting the more far away from each other, which is why it surprises you to see him staring at you.

You maintain eye contact, not wanting to back down first, and surprisingly it's him who does. But only to look at your hand, his eyebrows raise, remembering something. You look at him curious as he gets his hand inside his pocket and pulls something that slides across the table in your direction.

Five heads look at the object, and soon realize what he throws at you.

A ring.

A simple small gold band.

For a second, you think that it is just a weird gift from the Prince; a peace offering. But when you look at him, he looks at you expectantly as if waiting for you to answer and it clicks.

Your soon-to-be husband, is proposing to you.

“That's it?” You ask picking it up to check it better, disappointment clear in your voice.

“We're you expecting rubies?” He laughs. “I thought you were more humble than that, princess “

“It's not about the ring…” You say looking at it. “I thought you would at least ask me, indulge me a bit and trick me into thinking I had a choice, you know.”

“If you were expecting me to kneel, you may be more stupid than we thought.” He chuckles drily.

You ignore him, the insult falling on deaf ears at this point and focus on the ring. Just looking at it you know it's not going to be your size, and when you try to get your finger in it, it is so much bigger it could fit two of yours. You realise then, that they didn't even bother to find an actual ring, and just used one they had themselves.

“It doesn't fit.” You comment, still looking at your hand.

“Close your fist then.” Ghost answers. “Better not lose it.”

You should hit him. Shove the ring down his throat until he chokes. But you don't, instead, you stand up, ring in hand, and walk up to the room they lend you without saying anything else.

Some of the maids quickly follow you as you walk upstairs into the room. Your luggage is already there, and you take out the nightgown even though the sun is still out. But your chances are going down to the king and putting up with their passive-aggressive remarks or going out and getting hurt or kidnapped by people's kindness.

You are far from being used to dealing with this many people on a daily basis, so the silence of the room when you get out of the bathtub makes you want to go to sleep.

So you step into the room, looking at the ground and closing the door behind you. When you look up to your bed, the bed looks back at you. Well, not the bed, but Simon.

You gasp when you see the behemoth of a man, laying down on his back on your bed without his mask and cape. In his hands, he is playing with a garment you can figure out at first.

Until he smirks at you, and then you realize is the undergarments you were wearing today. “Simon!” You exclaim, completely scandalized by the violation of your privacy. “That's not yours!”

The fact that he entered your room while you were bathing becomes a second offence, and you walk up to him ready to take it back. Except it looks like that was exactly his plan because when you extend your hand to try and grab it, he grabs your wrist pulling you on top of him.

You shriek out of the surprise, in part surprised by his strength; able to hold you up by the hand on your wrist and in part, surprised by his lack of decorum. He is so close you can feel the heat radiating from his skin, he is looking up at you with such a condescending look but it is the eye contact of his golden brown eyes that keeps you in a trance.

Trance, that gets suddenly broken by a sharp pain in your ass when Simon slaps your ass. You slowly look back at him and slap him back on his chest. “You did not fucking do that!” You exclaim, and he raises his eyebrows. “Princess!” He says covering his mouth with his free hand. “Language!”

You manage to get your hand free and get back on your feet. You point to the door and say: “Get out!”

He barks a laugh sitting up at the edge of the bed, and at a surprisingly fast speed, he hugs your waist pulling you tight against him again. You manage to get your hands on his shoulder, pulling some distance between him and you.

“But I need to check your wound, Princess.” He says looking up through his eyelashes. “The wound is amazing, Simon. You can leave.” You answer, still trying to pull back.

One of his hands moves up to your waist, and with his thumb and index, he presses over your wound, hard, drawing little droplets of blood and making you wince. “That does sound amazing, but I don't think your wound is.” He says pulling his finger back and licking the blood of his thump while looking at you. You can feel the heat in your ears, an obvious sign of your flush, completely uncalled for.

You're supposed to get warm with gentle touches, grazing hands and kisses on the cheek. Not by this brute, personification of strength, licking your blood.

“Let me see it, Princess.” He says sternly looking at you. You feel trapped, like in a cage… a really warm cage. So you start to pull the gown up, and you can feel Simon's eyes drag up the newly exposed skin, you are not wearing anything under the nightgown and he notices his eyes widening slightly. One of your hands remains between your legs, making sure only the outside of your leg is exposed as the other rises the gown up to right below your boob where the wound is.

Simon sets his hand on your knee engulfing it, and apparently, he needs to move his hand up your tights, your hips and up to under your boob just to check the wound. He touches the wound, moving his thumb across it and his fingernail grazes your underboob causing you goosebumps. You turn your head, unable to keep looking at his face, letting a sight escape your lips trying to play it out as a sight of annoyance.

“You were right, it looks good.” He murmurs, when you feel his breath against your skin you whip your head back to look at him, just to see him lick a strip right under the wound, causing a whine out of you at the heat of his tongue.

You slap his shoulder this time, taking a step back and putting the nightgown down. “Why did you do that? You are gonna get it infected!” He simply laughs at your face and adds: “Sorry, Princess, I just wanted a taste. It was too tempting.”

“You are a really weird man, Simon Price!” You exclaim, moving back until your back hits the wall, putting as much space as possible between him and you.

He looks at you confused, before standing up and walking up to you. “Why do you say that, Princess?” He asks, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “Hm?”

“One second you do these… things. Next second you don't even look at me and treat me like trash.” You say looking at the floor.

He chuckles, cupping your face making you look up to him. “Is this because I told you I wouldn't kneel? Now, Princess. I already gave you the ring, why else do you want me to kneel for you, hm?” He asks getting his face close to yours, for a second you panic he would kiss you, but just before reaching it, he moves to your ear and whispers: “Naughty, girl.”

Putting his hands on your hips, he turns you around leaving you staring at the wall. “Better to check the exit too.” He murmurs against your neck. “Do it quick, and leave.” You order, trying to remain calm.

Instead, he takes his time. Crouching down, knee almost touching his ground, and he grabs the hem of the gown, and slowly, really slowly, as if time has stopped and therefore he had all the time in the world, he starts to raise it, with his fingertip gracing the skin of your leg, fingernail scratching just at the verge of pain.

Goosebumps spread as he rises, up your calf, up your thigh, up your arse, which he touches with no remorse, and up your back. With one hand, he holds the gown up, and with the other, he caresses your hip.

You don't feel his eyes on your wound, you feel them lower. And if you have the courage, you would confront him; but coming face to face and he proudly admitting, because he would, that yes, in fact, he was staring at your arse, it's not something you could bear without blushing and therefore feeding his ego.

“How is it?” You ask, growing impatient with his lack of sounds.

“Amazing, indeed.” He answers immediately, and you know he is not talking about the wound, but that'll do for now. So you take a step to the side, getting out of his hold and let the gown back down, covering your body.

“Great, then you can leave.” You say, crossing your arms unable to look at him.

“But why? I'm enjoying myself in here, Princess.” He says chuckling at you.

“Precisely!” You exclaim and grab his wrist, him obviously letting you drag him. You open the door, ready to throw him out when you come to face with Gaz who looks ready to knock at the door. He looks between Simon and you, before gasping loudly.

“Premarital encounters?!” He asks smiling widely, and making you roll your eyes, pushing Simon out of the room and slamming the door. Hearing the two men laugh loudly on the other side.

The next morning, a quick breakfast is eaten. The ring is not on your finger, too big to be comfortable to wear; instead, it is hanging from your neck with a threat. It rests on the center of your chest, so everyone can see it.

“Princess, I had an idea last night.” The king breaks the silence. “Once we are back at the kingdom, how about we arrange a joust? To welcome everyone that will help arrange the wedding. I'll help everyone to cheer up a bit.” He asks, looking at you.

“A joust?” You ask a bit surprised by the offer. There is still a sour taste on your tongue, it is only for the wedding, so people like him more. But again, he is asking you. Not for your consent, he would do it anyway. But to make you feel like you are actually heard. His voice saying “We are more powerful together than against each other” comes to mind, and you decide to play along: “Sure, that sounds fun.”

Hii! 💗

Sorry for taking so long to update this series, the Lift me off my feet completely took me away. Thank you so much for being so patient with me ❤️❤️❤️

TagList: @kristalhi @strawberrygato @ghostlythots @dumybitch @infpt-zylith @jupiternighties @cassiecasluciluce @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tired-writer04 @evolutionarry @whos-fran @darkangel4121 @thevoidwriting

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chronicbeans · 3 months

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Romantic Husk x Maladaptive Daydreamer Reader

Brought to you by: I feel like you two would get along. Also I feel like I made the Reader much more depressed in this one so heads up lol.

TW: Maladaptive Daydreaming, Alcohol/Alcoholism, Mentions of Drugs, Depression, Derealization/Dissociation

• When you first stepped into the Hazbin Hotel, being dragged around by an excited Charlie and smiling Vaggie, he thought you'd be like all the rest. A bit more on the bold side, being able to make snarky comments, violent... Just, overall, like most other sinners he's seen. He was quickly proven wrong, however. You look over to him as you're dragged by the bar, but you don't look like you process him. He simply assumed you didn't get the time to process him, but once Charlie loops around back to him in order to introduce you two, you have that same look to you.

• "Hello... um, I'm (Y/N)." You wave a little to him as you speak, looking a bit awkward. Possibly from Charlie dragging you around from excitement, and making you meet everyone. He waves to you, nodding. He doesn't look very enthusiastic, or sound it, as he introduced himself. "The name's Husk. Now, are you going to get a drink while you're here? Otherwise, that's all you'll need to know, for now."

• Alright... so, first impressions were definitely something. They aren't his forte, at least. However, you succeeded in surprising him a little. Not with your words or gestures, but just by how you didn't seem to be paying full attention. He's great at reading people, as a gambler, and it's bled into his day to day life. He could easily tell. Now, could he tell why? No. His first thought is drugs, since Angel has a drug problem and so do a lot of people in Hell, but you didn't show any visible signs of being on something. So, he isn't going to assume anything. Perhaps you were just having a bad day, or were overwhelmed...

• The next time he sees you, though, is when you are having a group exercise with the rest of the hotel residents. Plus a few staff members, since there's not a lot of people here, yet. Lucky for him, he was chosen to join in. After all, who's going to be going to the bar when everyone is doing an activity? Once again, everybody is introducing themselves since there's a new person. That person being you.

• You sit there, clearly spaced out, as Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, and Niffty all do their little greeting... thing... that Charlie is making everyone do. Then, once it's your turn, you take a moment. Actually, you didn't notice it was your turn, until Husk gently elbows you, wanting to get it over with. You flinch, before giving a halfhearted greeting, embarrassed. You say your name, with your favorite thing being "being creative", and your last thing being that you don't like sharing it. It was odd to listen to, compared to everyone else's introductions. He just gave his, not thinking about it... much.

• Okay... maybe "not thinking about it much" isn't the right wording. He's thinking about it a lot. Mainly because he's worried about whatever the hell "being creative" means. In Hell, it could mean violence, drugs, and a lot of other horrific things alongside art, music, and writing. He wants to make sure Angel Dust is safe, too, if it is something involving drugs. He doesn't want him to get hooked on something new. So, he's going to keep a close watch whenever you two are together.

• You don't visit the bar often. Though, when you do, you usually have a few drinks and don't talk much. You kind of just stare at the table, the bottles on the wall behind him, or just into space while making different expressions. A lot of the time you kind of look empty, though. Husk sometimes crosses his arms and asks what you're thinking about, only for you to look up to him and shrug. "Hard to explain... Just a story I heard."

• You're clearly hiding something and he doesn't like that. He's not going to pry, though. While it could be something bad, it could also just be some personal stuff. Maybe you're just depressed or something...? Doesn't explain the odd expressions... maybe you're just hallucinating? Yeah. He'll just guess it's a mental health thing. Which, well, he's on the right track. Just the wrong answer to what is causing the specifics of what he's trying to figure out.

• Sometimes you talk about your stories when you get drunk, which isn't as often as a few other people in the Hazbin Hotel, but is usually a treat. He assumes these are those "stories you heard one", but he can already smell something fishy. You explain them in far too much detail than someone normally would. You can even explain miniscule things, like the psychology of certain characters, the way the world building works to the smallest ant's role, to even the biology of certain creatures. Nobody who simply "heard a story" would know this much. These are things the writer would know.

• "You made these, didn't you?" You immediately tense up at that, but slowly nod. Now, he's even more confused. Why would anybody lie about it? These stories are interesting. They actually kind of distract him from his problems, that's how much they hook others! Before he can ask, though, you shrug. "I kind of... don't like how attached I am to them. They're why I'm spaced out. I also don't want others to know about it. Don't tell anyone."

• Husk doesn't tell anyone. However, he kind of thinks you're overreacting when you talk about how much you daydream and how it's a problem. It's nothing against you. He doesn't think you're a lier, now. He's pretty sure you're being truthful, with just a little bit of exaggerating. See, he's from the 1970s, and whatever you're going through wasn't discovered until the 2000s. He just can't imagine how daydreaming could become a problem. Everybody daydreams. However, just in case it actually is a big issue, he won't voice it. The most he'll say is just that he hasn't heard of anything like what you are describing.

• He likes you. Now that you're being more open, he has genuinely started to enjoy your company. Your stories are nice to listen to, your expressions fun to watch, and even if you are having problems listening to him talk, he can at least understand why and not hold it against you. You're entertaining. He'll ask questions about your characters, and actually engage in your storytelling when you ask.

• However, it all changes once Charlie comes up to him one evening. She looks a bit worried as she asks Husk for help. "See... They've been in their room all day, and when I knocked and asked if they needed anything, they asked to get you." Get him? Well, alright.

• Once he gets to your room, he begins to realize just how bad of a problem it can get. You seem to have broken down into tears over something, and when he asks what, you just let out your every frustration. You've forgotten to eat today, you can't focus on anything due to daydreaming taking over, you feel a bit disconnected from reality... while before, you seemed to be able to talk about these things so easily, now that you're breaking down over it? It really puts it into perspective. Especially when you mention feeling disconnected from reality... He somehow never thought of that being an issue, but it makes sense to him. How could you feel connected to reality, when your mind is never focused on it?

• As much as he tries to understand what is going on inside your head, he knows he'll never understand it entirely. So, he tries to understand it in a way through his own experiences. With how much this unstoppable habit has been causing you distress, the closest thing he can compare is to is his alcoholism. He feels like he can't stop drinking, even if he knows it's bad for him... Husk is very much aware that it's not exactly the same, but he feels it's the closest he'll get to understanding your experiences.

• He keeps his promise of not saying a word about it to anyone. If somebody ever asks about what is going on with you, he'll pull what he calls "a Niffty", saying "You don't even want to know what's going on with them." He also becomes a bit more protective over you. He's seen Alastor staring at you, and he recognizes the look in his eyes. Alastor wants to try to manipulate you, like he does everyone else. Husk plans to prevent that as best he can, despite Alastor owning his soul.

• Husk might try to find ways to ground you. He would normally recommend going to a therapist, psychiatrist, or to get some medications for your mental health... but considering that you're both in Hell, the place filled with the worst people, that might actually be the most dangerous thing you could do. If you were on earth, sure, since those people can be trusted more often than not. Hell's mental health professionals are untrustworthy, though. So, he's going to try finding a grounding technique that works for you. Be it holding some ice cubes in your hand, taking deep breaths, or some random thing Charlie brings up one day he thinks will help.

• Now that he's dedicated to protecting you from Alastor, he might be a bit more open about how awful that deer demon can be. Well, as open as Alastor's leash allows him to be. It's his way of subtly warning you not to trust that smiling monster. Husk's gotten too attached to let not warn you of him.

• As you both spend more time around each other, he begins noticing that he's grown to love you as more than a friend. The little things you do cause him to blush, as much as he hates it. It's only when Angel Dust teases him about having a crush on you that he actually realizes that he's in love, though, and Husk immediately shuts him up. He's genuinely growing frightened that Alastor might hear it, and begin using you against him. That man has taken his soul, his power as an overlord, his freedom, and he knows that he'd be willing to take you away, too.

• Despite that fear, Husk is rather quick to tell you how he feels. He knows he'll have to tell you at some point, so he might as well get it over with. He also doesn't really expect you to like him back, in large part due to his attitude and the cat-like form he's taken in Hell. He doesn't like it, himself, so why wouldn't you see it as off-putting? However, he doesn't argue when you tell him you love him back. He is just a bit shocked, in a good way.

• Now that you're both together, your actual relationship doesn't change much from when you were just friends. The only real difference is the occasional kiss or snuggle sensation. You're actually a bit shocked by how much he likes to cuddle, even if he only wants to in private. He isn't really the type of guy that likes public displays of affection.

• All in all, life's pretty good with your protective boyfriend. He may not entirely understand what is going on in your head, but he's one of the most patient people at the hotel when it comes to hearing people out on their problems. He's probably one of the best if you're looking for a partner who'd rather give you grounding skills, rather than going along with your daydreams and using outlets like art and writing to cope.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #husk hazbin hotel #husk x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #maladaptive daydreaming

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youneedsomeprompts · 5 months

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hi!! i’ve just started writing a fic and it’s going well (a friends to lovers) but i’m having trouble with the transition part of the story. the two have already confessed, but i don’t want them rushing into anything bc it just wouldn’t make sense. do you have any tips on how to ease them from just being friends to dating? i don’t want it to be super quick but i also don’t want to drag it on forever. thank you again!!💗

Points you could include to ease your characters from the friend phase into the dating phase:

trying to be extremely nice to the other because they're still unsure which extent of affection is "right" and feels "appropriate" for their relationship

getting used to sharing what used to be something they had/kept just to themselves (are there maybe certain parts they're struggling with?)

learning more intimate things/details about the other that maybe surprise them

having awkward moments when doing "couple things" they have never done before together (laughing about it together afterwards)

noticing that certain dynamics that their friendship used to have changed for new dynamics that came with dating. maybe they're missing what had been. maybe they're trying to get that back (they would probably have to mention it to the other. are they comfortable with that? do they feel the same way?) maybe they're learning to like the new version of their relationship

being unsure whether the other expects "more" from them now that they are dating

trying very hard to be good enough for the other but maybe this gets uncomfortable for the other as well because they've always been enough (maybe it's time for a talk about expectations)

being super excited/giddy whenever they see each other, maybe that means they need some time alone to calm down and relax again

trying things together and learning that they don't like them. so, they're trying something else

slowly being introduced to the other's friends and family as their new s/o (maybe feeling awkward and being happy when everyone knows it and becomes normal about it)

being happiest when being with the other just fills them with serenity, and they want that all the time, preferring it to the ecstatic and at times nauseating excitement of being freshly infatuated

Every relationship is different. Every couple goes through different things that lead them to a familiar and casual state of dating. But the list above contains a few things a fresh couple might experience in their first time together as a couple. Maybe some of these help you with your story.

In order to achieve this gradual progress from friends to dating to lovers, I would recommend including a few points similar to the ones above and showing how these single things bring them a bit closer together afterwards. With everything they experience as a couple, they create a new part/dimension of their identity as a couple. Show the smaller and bigger effects these shared new experiences have on their relationship. One step at a time (as slowly or quickly as you like), you can bring your couple closer together.

Hope this helps! <3

#friends to lovers #writing friends to lovers #how to write friends to lovers #writing ideas #writing inspiration #writing advice #writers on tumblr #writeblr #otp

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thedroneranger · 1 year

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Say My Name

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Précis: You and your crew enjoy playing games with the aviators at the local navy bar. You may have finally met your match...

Note: Stumbled across a meme that inspired this one. Hoping you think it’s as fun and light as I do—enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 3.0k

It was innocent enough. Meet someone, introduce yourself with a fake name and see where the night takes you.

The game was even more fun as a civilian in a Navy bar bursting with aviators. They had no shame introducing themselves with their call signs, taking you home and never speaking to you again. Why should I?

I have to admit: It was a lot of fun. Made things feel low stakes. The hookups were a mixed bag, but that was part of the fun.

The following week, you reconvened at the bar to brag about your time between the sheets or, at the very least, share a funny bit you gleaned as compensation.

Since the bar was about as transient as the LAX airport, it was rare to run into someone twice. Plus, by now, we knew the Regulars—Regs for short. They, on the other hand, couldn’t be bothered to remember us.

An in-game challenge we liked to issue each other was running into Regs and seeing if they remembered us. You lose, you buy a round. You win, your drinks are everyone else’s problem for the rest of the night.

This week was no exception. Skye, real name, had saved seats at the bar for Jane, real name, and I. Perfectly timed, the bartender delivered our drinks as we sat.

Upholding our tradition, Skye arrived first, so she shared her conquest first. She had caught the eye of a tall, sun-kissed pilot, call sign Rooster, that lived up to the implied innuendo. For the first time, Skye wanted, no needed, a Reg! Our resident one-hit wonder, she refused to touch the same pawn twice.

Meanwhile, Jane went home with a handsome guy, call sign Harvard. The three of us chuckled as she proceeded to rant about how he must’ve been a nepo baby to get into the country's most elite university. That, or all the jet fuel really killed quite a few brain cells. Thank goodness the head between his legs required only blood flow—it did not disappoint. However, she would rather watch paint dry than have to attempt to hold a conversation with him again.

Now my turn, the pair looked at me expectantly. Both saw me leave with a suave blond pilot, call sign Hangman.

Hangman was one of the smoother pilots I’d met. He stumbled upon me alone, sitting at the bar, Skye and Jane elsewhere toying with their catches.

“This seat taken?” He had a faint southern drawl.

“All yours,” I responded. The bartender arrived with my drink, and Hangman wordlessly ordered his own.

We looked at each other. His eyes were a stunning jade, and his smile was absolutely lethal.

Thankfully, I’d been told time and time again my grin was just as fatal. I let myself pretend that was the reason he was looking. Throughout the night, his gaze would drop to my mouth often. Occasionally, it would drift down my neck and sometimes lower.

His beer arrived and we continued to banter. Finally, an opportunity arose to exchange names. “Hangman,” he said, tipping his beer bottle toward me.

“Alex,” I lied as I touched the edge of my drink to his. “Friends call me Lex.” I winked as I sipped my beverage.

Part of the fun was how long you could keep their attention or how often they got distracted by an easier target. I had to hand it to Hangman, I did not peg him as a blinders-on kind of guy, but he was.

As the night wore on, we sat closer and closer. Surprisingly, I had not noticed when he hooked his foot on my barstool and was subtly inching me toward him.

My elbow was resting on the bar, our bodies turned mostly toward each other. Hangman had just delivered a punchline to an actually funny joke that made me genuinely laugh.

“You know,” I looked at him through my lashes, “your accent gets thicker with every beer.”

His megawatt smile appeared. “The drawl is how I draw ya in.” He winked and knocked my knee with his.

Damn, he was charming.

If I hadn’t been sitting at the bar with him for the last couple hours, I’d find it hard to believe this funny, affable human was the same cocky asshole shit-talking his friends and sharking their cash in darts earlier in the evening.

Last call crept up on us. We stayed in our seats as we closed our tabs—a true gentleman, Hangman insisted he pick up my drinks.

“Nightcap at my place?” He offered as he finished his signature with a gallows stick figure. A chuckle escaped me as I nodded in response. “What?” he inquired, cocking his head a little.

My eyes still on the receipt, I subtly gestured my chin in the same direction. “You’re really into your call sign.” He smirked, his deep dimples making an appearance as we vacated our seats.

“Only here,” he responded. “Makes the bartenders smile—I like to leave this place in good humor.” His hand slipped to the small of my back as we walked out.

He insisted he drive my car to his place, so I could leave at my leisure. He’d get his from the bar in the morning.

“I’m surprised you live here.” I initiated conversation as he drove. I watched a smile tug his features.

“Well, I wasn’t completely honest.” He stole a quick glance at me before putting his eyes back on the road. “I’m staying at a buddy’s house. He’s out of town while I’m in town, so he lent me his place. Allows me to avoid the barracks, and I return the favor when he’s in my neck of the woods.” He paused. “Have you ever been?”

It was the politest way I’d ever been asked if I were a tag chaser. “To the barracks? I have not had pleasure,” I responded. Sarcasm coloring my tone.

“You’re not missing anything,” he quipped with a wink. I smiled mostly to myself. The rest of the ride was silent between us but not awkward. The radio was our soundtrack until he cut the engine in the driveway of a quaint little bungalow.

As I exited, Hangman came around to shut the door and take my hand. We walked to the house, and once inside he left me to my own devices while he snagged some beers from the fridge.

Hangman handed me a longneck as we settled into the couch, me tucked into his side. After some small talk, our beers almost empty, he was leaning toward me. His eyes locked on my lips. “You know,” I said as he continued to close the gap between us. “You’re much more of a gentleman that I was expecting.”

His signature smirk appeared. “There’s still time for me to not be a gentleman.” He pressed his lips to mine. Eagerly, I forced him back so I could climb into his lap. One palm rested on his chest, while the other tugged his locks.

He groaned as I rolled my pelvis into his and roughly pulled on his lower lip. Playfully, I sat back, biting my own lip and batting my lashes. Hangman’s hands settled into the back pockets of my jeans and kneaded my backside. “Something tells me you're trouble.”

Our smirks mirrored one another. “Aren’t you lucky, you get to find out firsthand.” I leaned in for one more kiss, before slipping off his lap. Zero hesitation, he popped up, grabbed my hand and led me to his room.

We barely crossed the threshold, and Hangman was peeling his shirt over his head. I mimicked his action, and we slipped our pants off at the same time. He watched as I slowly stood to my full height. His eyes wandered the length of my legs and then studied the tiny swathe of fabric covering my apex.

As he looked, I turned so his eyes followed the curve of my thighs to my buttocks and then up my back. I was looking over my shoulder at him as he realized my bra was dangling from my index finger. My smile widened as the garment hit the floor, and then I sashayed to the bed.

He watched me sink onto the mattress. Knees wide, I let my legs dangle over the side and leaned back on one palm. The other was busy kneading my nipples to taut peaks.

Even in the dim light of the room, I could see his pupils were completely blown. He sauntered over and stood between my knees. Tilting my head up, I met his gaze. Staring down at me, he tangled a hand in my hair. My eyes fluttered closed, waiting for his next command.

Instead, he untangled his hand from my trusses. Eyes open with curiosity, I kept his gaze as he sank to his knees, resting his palms on the tops of my thighs. We never broke eye contact as he kissed each of my kneecaps.

My breath hitched as his calloused fingers ghosted up my legs and curled around the sides of my panties. Almost involuntarily, my hips lifted so he could slip the garment down. Hangman took his time sliding them off, letting his fingers trail the entire length of my legs. Settling himself, he looped one of my legs over each shoulder. The position forced me to lie further back and prop myself on my elbows.

I chewed my lip as he nosed and kissed along my inner thighs. His smirk appeared as he got closer to where I really wanted him. “As a gentleman, I’ll make you come first.” A wet, hot kiss punctuated his statement.

Before I could retort, he spread me with his fingers and suctioned his lips around my bundle of nerves. If it weren’t for his hand anchoring my hip, my entire body would've come off the bed. “Oh, fuck!” I nearly shouted as his fingers slipped down to my soaking hole.

He pulled away, tugging my clit before letting it go, to watch his thick fingers languidly sink into me. Every come-hither motion had me seeing stars and the band in my lower stomach pulling tighter. Coupled with him lapping my core, I was nearly over the edge. The final push was a string of phrases, including ‘just like that’ and ‘good girl’ leaving his mouth.

I sat up and squeezed my eyes shut as my orgasm rippled through me. Hangman slipped from beneath my legs and settled beside me on the bed, ushering me to lay back down. Prolonging my peak, he scissored his fingers and enjoyed my walls tightening around his digits.

Finally through my high, Hangman removed his fingers. That disappointingly empty feeling washing over me, I opened my eyes to see him cleaning my arousal from his hand. “You’re sweet,” he said as he pulled his fingers out of his mouth with a pop and looked down at me.

My hand went to the back of his head to pull him down for a kiss. Sloppily, I licked his mouth and sucked his lips to taste myself. We broke apart. “Mhmmm, needed to confirm,” I explained. His smile appeared as he pushed his lips back to mine.

Hangman growled as I sank my teeth into his bottom lip. Breaking the kiss, he slipped off the bed to grab a condom, rolling it on as he came back. He grabbed my ankle to position me at the edge of the bed so his length was resting against my throbbing apex.

The backs of my thighs rested against the front of his. He still had a hold on my ankle, while my other leg hooked around his hip. I watched as Hangman laid my leg against his chest. Then he toured the length of it until his hand came to rest on my hip.

We kept eye contact as he leaned forward. “It’s my turn.” His hand slipped between us to guide his length into me. A hissed deflated my lungs as he seated himself. Girthier than his fingers, he gave me a few seconds to adjust.

Every couple of thrusts, his pace increased. Now verging on brutal, he hooked my legs around his arms as he planted his palms on the bed for more leverage. I couldn’t help the moans that escaped my lips as he relentlessly drove into me.

“Taking me so well,” he complimented. “That’s a good girl, Lex.”

Lex?

Who the fuck was Lex?!

My body reacted before my mind, and my open palm connected with his cheekbone. Hangman’s hips stuttered, but only for a moment. “What was that for?” he asked between thrusts.

Fuck.

I’m Lex.

I forgot…

Fortunately, Hangman seemed none the wiser. “I need to know so I can do it again,” he clarified, smirking.

“Shut up,” I ignored his question. “Put your hand around my neck.”

“Choke you?” he rephrased.

Whining, I clawed at his wrist. “Yes, please!”

He obliged, placing his palm over the column of my throat. His thumb, fore and middle fingers applied pressure to the sides of my neck. A hum buzzed up my throat and my bottom lip disappeared between my teeth as he applied pressure.

The only sounds in the room were both of us panting and skin against skin. His hand had since left my neck and was cradling my head, fingers curled in my hair, while the other was planted beside me on the bed.

One of my hands reached between us to draw tight circles on my engorged nerves. Occasionally, I’d slip my fingers into a V around his base. “Yes, keep your hand there,” he instructed. I obeyed, squeezing rhythmically. A drawn out ‘fuck’ left his lips as his hips stuttered while he came.

Hangman buried his face in the crook of my neck, but kept his pace to encourage my second orgasm. His hand replaced mine between us. The calluses of his thumb added just enough sensation to push me into my next pleasure wave. “Fuck, I love when you squeeze me.” His pace slowed at the same rate as my aftershocks.

Hangman uncurled himself from me, and I whined at the loss of heat and sat up. He threw me his discarded t-shirt before wandering to the bathroom. A minute or two later, he came back with a warm washcloth and, kneeling in front of me, gently cleaned me up.

Offering his hand, he pulled me to standing. Then, before returning to the ensuite bathroom, he turned down the blankets and motioned for me to climb in.

Jokingly poking a finger to my chest, I looked over my shoulder and then back at him. “You want me to stay?”

His signature smirk reappeared as he walked over to me, standing close enough I had to look up at him. “Can I tell you a secret?” I nodded, waiting. He bent down so his lips met my ear. “I’m a cuddler.” He whispered, and then placed a chaste kiss at the top of my jaw, before dipping past me to the bathroom.

By the time Hangman came back, I was nestled into his bed, postcoital sleepiness settling in. He draped himself over me, wrapping an arm around my waist and slipping his leg between mine. The last thing I remembered was him pressing kisses to the back of my neck.

A few hours later, I stirred to find myself tucked into Hangman’s side, him on his back. My head and hand on his chest, and my leg looped over his. His arm was slack in the valley between my hip and ribs.

I wanted to stay there with Hangman. Kiss him awake and then convince him to go to breakfast, but that wasn’t part of the game.

Begrudgingly, I slipped from his grasp. However, I had decided I was keeping his t-shirt. Collecting my clothing, I slipped on some pants. Then, I crept over to the bathroom to make sure I was somewhat presentable. Gathering the rest of my belongings, I hopped into my vehicle and headed home.

Keeping up the facade, I left the longing details out of my story as I wrapped it up. Jane and Skye were both ready to jump on me with a million questions.

However, instead, their attention was drawn behind me. Confused, I swiveled in my seat to find Hangman leaning against the counter, looking right at me.

“Hey, stranger.” My heart definitely skipped a beat.

His gorgeous grin appeared as he stood to his full height and leaned closer to me. “Hey, stranger,” he repeated. “Left without a trace on Saturday.”

“Is that not what you wanted?” His gaze was intense, yet I couldn’t look away.

“Not at all.” A drink arrived for him, and he winked at the bartender. “I was hoping we would go out for breakfast.” He sipped his beer. “Exchange phone numbers.” He paused again. “Real names.”

I’d been had.

He smiled at my silent confirmation.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked in a lower voice.

Hangman leaned further in to whisper into my ear. “And ruin such a hot moment?” We pulled just far enough apart to look each other in the eye. “I was sad when you weren’t there for Round 2 in the morning.”

I couldn’t help but grin. Heat filled my cheeks, as I looked at my shoes for a moment.

“Instead of you toying with another flyboy’s heart tonight, I’m going to buy your drinks and get to know you…” he trailed off. I finished his sentence with my name, which he repeated with a grin.

“I knew you weren’t a Lex.” He winked. “I’m Jake, by the way.”

“Hi, Jake. Nice to meet you.” I winked back before taking a sip of my drink.

Jake let out a hearty laugh that squinted his eyes.

Skye’s hand brushed my shoulder as she and Jane vacated the area. They both gave Jake little waves. In exchange, he relayed soft thank yous.

He pulled my stool as close to his as possible and looped his arm around the back. “Well,” he looked down at me, “now that I know your name, I want to know everything else.”

“Good thing we have all night.”

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#jake seresin smut #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin #jake hangman #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x you #hangman #hangman smut #the drone ranger #thedroneranger

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jinisnuggets · 5 days

Text

ꜱᴛʀᴀʏ ᴋɪᴅꜱ (ᴏᴛ3) ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜱ/ᴏ ɪꜱ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ

ᴾᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ: ˡᵉᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ, ʰᵃⁿ, ˢᵉᵘⁿᵍᵐⁱⁿ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ: ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ, ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗʸ, ᴴᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒⁿˢ, ˢᵐᵃᵘ

ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳⁱᵉˢ, ˢʷᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ, ʰᵃʳᵐ,

ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ: ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ˢᵉʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ⁱᵗ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ᶠᵃˢᵗ

ᴬ/ⁿ: ᵗʰⁱˢ ʷᵃˢ ʳᵉqᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵᵗ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ᵈʳᵃᶠᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᴵ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʳⁱᵍⁱⁿᵃˡ ᵃˢᵏᵉʳ ᴵ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ 😭 , ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʳⁿ.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨

When he got a call from the local hospital, he was quick to assume they had the wrong number, however he still picked up in order to inform them of the mistake, and when he heard a voice on the other end start to speak, he waited for them to finish the contact information before talking.

“Hello, I wanted to inform you that you possibly have the wrong number, I don't have any health issues and neither do any of my close relatives, so I believe this is a mistake, but thank you for your hard work, it is very appreciated.”

The other end stayed silent for a moment before verifying, “This is Lee Minho, is that correct?” Minho stayed quiet for a moment before speaking, “Yes, that's me- what happened?”

After the clarification, the doctor introduced themselves and explained the situation that had him very much on edge, and hearing what actually happened didn't make it any better.

“Wait- Y/n got into a car accident..?”

“Unfortunately, but luckily it wasn't a very serious crash so they came out with few injuries, although they aren't minor, they aren't major either so they should recover in a couple of weeks to possibly months.”

By that point, Minho had been pacing around the same spot for a decent amount of time, sweat running down his forehead as he bit his thumb nail, reacting quickly and reaching out for his car keys and wallet.

“I'm on my way, please keep them safe until I get there.”

The person on the other end nodded, but for confirmation muttered a small ‘of course’ in order to assure him that you were in good hands.

He didn't have time to ask about the injuries you had, the only thing he wanted to do by that point was see you and that was really it, he didn't think to ask nor did he really care to ask at the moment of it, the question hadn't come to his head until he started driving and had already hung up, in which he found himself banging his head against the steering wheel in complete disappointment to himself, quickly speeding up the pace in order to get to his loved one faster.

𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

Jisung had been eating lunch in his car, he was lazy so he just stopped by some fast food restaurant and ordered a meal to go, so that's how he ended up in his car in a random parking lot, looking at all the passing cars as he ate the burrito he had ordered.

He had seen a couple of ambulances drive by but he hadn't thought much of them, it was normal to see an ambulance drive off during regular times of day so there wasn't anything suspicious about it.

He stayed in his car for a while and finished up his burrito, jamming to the music that played from his playlist. Right as he was picking up his trash he noticed his phone ringing, it was off as he wasn't the type to get calls often, so he looked at the contact and recognized the number as the local hospital's, it also had it on the contact name, he automatically assumed that maybe his parents needed to under-go some type of surgery and picked up.

“Hello, are we talking to Han Jisung at the moment?” The voice on the other line said, Jisung was scared so the only thing that came out of his mouth was a simple ‘mhm.’

“Perfect, I'm a doctor at the local Seoul Department Hospital, I have a few things to tell you about L/n Y/n.”

“Y/n!? Why are they at the hospital!?” He couldn't help but raise his voice a little, not because he was mad but because he was terrified. What was his beloved doing in a place like the hospital? From what he last knew you didn't have any mental conditions, which meant one of two things, you got injured or you just went for a check up and found some sort if emergency cause making you need surgery, which made him immediately reject the other option.

“Yes, L/n has twisted their ankle in what we can only assume was a fall, we don't have the full story yet as they've been undergoing treatment for the damaged bone.”

“That happened!?” Jisung was in disbelief, turning on his car and driving off in the way of the hospital.

“I'm on my way, please take care of Y/n for me.”

𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧

He was cooking whenever he noticed a number calling him, being the man he is, he obviously declined the call.

He hadn't seen the number and assumed it was a spam caller, so he chose to ignore it and decline the call. It wasn't until the number called a second time that he realized this wasn't a spam caller, so he picked up and got off to hang up if anything felt off or suspicious.

“Hello, are we speaking with Kim Seungmin?” A female voice asked from the other end, Seungmin felt uneasy and took a look at the contact information, seeing that it had the name of “Local Hospital”

Seungmin’s initial and continued thought was, of course, ‘scammer’ but he let the call proceed. “Yes, this is Kim Seungmin.” he responded.

“Okay, if it's okay for me to take a few minutes of your time, I would like to talk to you about some comments regarding L/n Y/n.”

Now Seungmin's mind went to ‘blackmailer’ and he was about to hang up the call when the same female voice continued.

“So, L/n has sprained their ankle while playing a sport, and it's not serious but it will take quite a bit to recover, so we wanted to know your relationship with the patient because they've got you listed as an emergency contact.”

Seungmin stayed silent, not because he was suspicious of any activity, but because he was genuinely concerned and trying to come up with the best thing to do in this scenario.

“I'm her boyfriend, could I have a few more details on their injuries?” Seungmin questioned, leaning over to pick up his shoes and slide them on, packing a bit of the pasta that he had been preparing and picking up his car keys.

“As mentioned, they sprained their ankle while they were playing some sort of sport, the theory is that they had landed badly on their leg and the pressure caused a bone malfunction causing the result of a sprain.”

“Okay, thank you very much, I'll be on my way.”

Seungmin thanked the doctor and despite his quiet and calm demineer, he was literally screaming and panicking on the inside.

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writingdumpster · 1 year

Text

celebration

pairing: Mickey Garcia (Fanboy) x reader

warnings: alcohol, implied sex

summary: everyone in the dagger squad has tried to get your number, but the last lieutenant to approach ends up being the winner

word count: 1,275

Your friend had begged you to go to The Hard Deck with her. She told you it was a bar where Navy men and women frequented and it would be a good place for her to find a fling. She was just getting out of a relationship and needed to get back into dating. You reluctantly agreed to be her emotional support, but she’d been whisked away by some pilot within minutes of your arrival. You were left sitting alone at the bar being interrupted every few minutes by a different pilot or WSO introducing themselves to you with a callsign instead of a name. Another man approached. He sat down beside you and then turned his head to face you.

“I’m Mickey,” he said, as he held out his hand. You turned to look at him. You were tired of the introductions, but you didn’t want to be rude and you were pleasantly surprised at this lieutenant’s decision to tell you his name and not his callsign. When you looked at him you noticed that he was one of two in the large group that had not approached you that night. The other was a bespectacled man who you had noted didn’t talk much at all. You were mildly glad that this Mickey had come to talk to you. When you saw the table when you walked in, he had been the one you found most attractive. Quiet but smiley. Handsome but not arrogant. He stuck out among his friends.

“Are you and your friends doing a challenge to see which one of you gets rejected the fastest?” You asked. Mickey chuckled.

“Rooster said Hangman wouldn’t be able to get your number and when he couldn’t the rest of them had to try,” he said. “I actually wanted to apologize for all of us bothering you.” You were surprised. This man was being very honest with you.

“No need to be sorry,” you said.

“Can I buy you a drink on behalf of all of us?” He asked. You smiled.

“Only if you stay while I drink it,” you said. Mickey blushed a bit but smiled.

“I’d be honored,” he said. He got Penny’s attention and you told her your order. “What’s your name?” He asked.

“Y/N,” you told him.

“What’s your call sign? Or is Mickey your callsign? Is it like the mouse?” Mickey chuckled.

“No, Mickey is my real name. My callsign is Fanboy,” he said.

“Fanboy? Are you into K-Pop or something?” You joked. Mickey smiled.

“Star Wars,” he said. “I was wearing underwear with Chewbacca on them on my first day and now I’m Fanboy forever.” You laughed and Mickey grinned. He knew he wouldn’t be satisfied if he didn’t get to hear the sound of your laugh every day.

“At least it’s not ‘Coyote.’ That was the worst one,” you said. Mickey smiled.

“Coyote’s the worst? And which one of us has the best callsign?” He asked.

“Phoenix,” you said. “Fanboy is a close second though. Rooster doesn’t even make sense. Roosters can’t fly.” Mickey chuckled.

“Payback said the same thing when we met Rooster,” Mickey told you.

“You’ve known Payback longer than the others?” Mickey nodded.

“He’s my pilot. I’m a weapons systems officer,” he said. “We went through Top Gun training together,” he finished.

“You’re not training at Top Gun right now?” You asked.

“No, ma’am,” he said. Your cheeks warmed and you held in a smile. You hadn’t realized just how charming military men would be. “We just got back from a mission. We’re celebrating.”

“What was the mission?” You asked.

“Oh, I’m afraid that’s classified, ma’am,” Mickey said. His tone was light and teasing. You chuckled.

“A man of mystery,” you said as you took a sip of your drink.

“No mysteries. I’m an open book,” he said.

“Really?” You asked. You leaned forward as did Mickey, the two of you both proudly in one another’s personal space.

“Ask me anything.” You smirked.

“If your friends hadn’t been bothering me, would you still have come over here?” You asked. Mickey blushed but smiled.

“Probably not. I’m not the most confident when it comes to beautiful women,” he said.

“Hmm. I’m glad I endured all of your friends then,” you said. Mickey smiled.

“I am too,” he said.

“Were you flying one of the planes on your mission?” You asked.

“I don’t fly them, but I was in one of them,” he said.

“I’m sure I owe you a ‘thank you’ then. Whatever classified business you were doing has kept me safe,” you said.

“No ‘thanks’ necessary, ma’am,” he said.

“No?” You asked.

“No.” Mickey said as he shook his head. You reached forward and put your hand on his thigh.

“And what if I want to thank you anyway?” You whispered into his ear. His breath hitched.

“Let me go grab my jacket,” he said.

“I drove my friend here. I have to give her my car keys,” you said. Mickey headed back over to the pool table that the Dagger Squad had monopolized to grab his coat.

“Where’ve you been?” Hangman asked. “I thought you were going to get us another round.”

“I was talking to y/n,” Mickey said. Hangman and Rooster chuckled.

“Bob’s gotta go now. We all have to get rejected by her,” Coyote piped in.

“I couldn’t get her number. Did you really think you could?” Hangman mocked. Mickey smiled to himself.

“I didn’t try to get her number,” he said. Phoenix rolled her eyes.

“Right. That’s why you were over there for twenty minutes and came back without any drinks,” she said.

“I am taking her back to my place right now,” Mickey added casually as he grabbed his jacket. Hangman choked on the beer he was drinking. His eyes shot to Mickey.

“You’re bluffing,” Hangman said. Mickey glanced over his shoulder. You were standing at the end of the bar with your eyes on him.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” he said with a smile. He pulled his jacket on as he walked towards you. He rested his hand on your lower back as he led you out of the bar and towards his car. The whole dagger squad exchanged shocked looks as they watched their beloved Fanboy be the one to take you home.

Mickey dropped you off at your house the next morning. You kissed him shyly, but he quickly deepened the kiss, pulling you close to him. He promised to call you and bid you a goodbye, backing away to keep his eyes on you as you closed the door.

When he got back to his car he finally looked at his phone for the day. He was greeted with a myriad of text messages in the Dagger squad group chat from the night before.

Hangman : DID U DRUG HER FANBOY?

Rooster: Tell the truth

Payback: He must’ve paid her. He couldn’t get anyone during Top Gun training

Phoenix: it makes sense to me.

Hangman: TF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT PHOE?

Phoenix: she’s obviously not into muscly guys.

Coyote: LMAO

Rooster: That’s gotta be it

Hangman: It’s the only explanation.

10:36 AM

Fanboy: whatever she’s into, it wasn’t any of you

Rooster: Bragging isn’t classy

Fanboy: wasn’t bragging, just pointing out the truth.

Hangman: Whatever, she’ll never call you back.

Another text came in.

Y/N💕: last night was fun. wanna hang tonight?

Mickey: yes 🥰 come over at 7:00?

Mickey chuckled. He switched over to the Dagger Squad group chat.

Fanboy: maybe you’re right.

Fanboy: anyway, can’t come to the bar tonight. i have plans 😏

#mickey garcia x reader #fanboy x reader #danny ramirez x reader #top gun maverick x reader #mickey fanboy garcia #top gun x reader #danny ramirez

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baxndaid · 1 year

Text

1999/lmk sun wukong x reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ! tbh this can be read as both 1999 or lmk OR literally anything else since this is taking place during the jttw !! SORRY FOR LONG ABSENCE </3

- you were a witch that was ordered to aid the pilgrim named Tripitaka on his quest to find the ancient scriptures

- you didn’t really know he’d have company though, even with your powers you could’ve never predicted that he’d be travelling with a monkey, a pig, and a sea wizard (not to mention their dragon horse)

- at first it was pretty rocky considering that when you revealed yourself to the group, the monkey (who was conveniently named monkey) attacked you with no hesitation

- in battle, you tried to show him the letter you received from the goddess Guan Yin, but it fell on deaf ears and he continued his attacks while calling you a liar

- he stopped as soon as the monk ordered for him to halt, with a bit of encouragement from the headband of course 😋

- you both floated down to your master

- you bowed and introduced yourself as y/n, and the group introduced themselves to you too

- pigsy took a liking to you (obviously)

- monkey did not

- sandy was neutral

- tripitaka was just glad he had another semi-sane individual in his group

- and so, you and your new companions continued with your journey to the west

- ANYWAY that brings you to where you are now 🗣️🗣️

the journey

♡ wukong didnt trust you much, even after a few months of traveling together

♡ he would allow you to do the same things he and his fellow companions did of course, but he would never let you stay and watch his master alone

♡ you did notice, but you didnt care, babysitting the monk wasnt exactly something you were dying to do as much as you respected him

♡ he did appreciate you for your skills, though

♡ Tripitaka managed to get kidnapped 4 times a week instead of 9 with you around 🥳

♡ for that, he warmed up to you

♡ just a smidge tho💔💔

♡ during the whole white bone demon/crimson witch saga; you defended monkey from the accusations of him killing a not so innocent young women

♡ you didnt feel as if he had a reason to lie, and even if you definitely werent his favourite person of the group, you still didnt want him to get punished for something that he did to protect his friends

♡ didnt work tho LMFAOO 😩

♡ he was soon banished from the group and went back to his home in flower fruit mountain in a sour mood

♡ you kinda felt bad but you kinda liked it like lmfaoo deserved 💔💔

♡ after the young monk got in trouble again, it was up to you to find monkey and get him to help you again

♡ you still don’t know why the hell pigsy made you do it, you just assumed he was being lazy and just wanted you to do all the heavy lifting

♡ you’d bully him later for compensation

♡ but for now your goal was to find monkey which was surprisingly easy considering his island was supposed to be incredibly difficult to find

♡ your task was easy, go to the island, get wukong, and come back

♡ it wasn’t easy 💯

♡ you ended up getting ambushed by a bunch of monkeys which you couldn’t take seriously since they were just so cute!

♡ they beat your ass

♡ they brought you to a stone throne with your ex-companion sitting on top of it, a dismissive look on his face and his head leaning on his hand

♡ they pushed you on your knees as the monkey king began to speak

♡ “state your name and your business here”

♡ “oh be quiet, unless you hit your head i expect you to remember me, it’s been like 2 days you dramatic ape”

♡ immediately you regret insulting him as his subjects hold you tighter and audibly chitter and gasp at your words

♡ you grunt “fine, i’m here to take you back to Tripitaka, he’s… in a tight spot” you look up at him to see his expression

♡ “why should i help him? he threw me away without a second thought!”

♡ you groaned, he had the right to be angry but you just wanted to get this over with, so you negotiated with him for a while

♡ a very long while

♡ he sighed, “fine” he got up from his throne “monkey subjects! your king is going on an important mission, you’ll have to do without me for a while” he said dramatically

♡ you playfully rolled his eyes as you watched him comfort the female monkeys, them clearly not wanting him to leave so soon

♡ after like 20 minutes you got bored, you took his hand and led him to your master, you were surprised he let you hold him for so long, he normally shoves pigsy off whenever he flings his arms around him after battle

♡ the rest of your friends rejoiced when they saw a certain monkey flying behind you, hand in hand

♡ pigsy had questions about why the two of you came back with hands intertwined and his mind immediately went straight into the gutter, and naturally, he got jealous

♡ he refused to talk to monkey for a week because of his assumption 😞

lego monkie kid masterlist

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hugmekenobi · 7 months

Text

S2: The Bad Batch (12)

Chapter Twelve: The Outpost

Gif by @dreamswithghosts

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you're having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.

Chapter Summary: Crosshair's mission for the Empire finalises what he'd feared would happen to him. Meanwhile, you and the Batch take on a tame job yet you find yourself filled with anticipatory dread but you have no sense of why.

Masterlist for S1

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, angst, Lieutenant Nolan, character death, my interpretation of Crosshair's thought process, Force-related anxiety, descriptions of exhaustion, poor attempt at kidnapping, light injury descriptions, reader isn't quite on top of things, briefest instances of innuendo (it's tiny and you might not even notice it but including just in case), me making up some of Hunter's past, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.9K

Author's notes: Told you I hadn't forgotten about Crosshair lol, the poor boy goes through it. Also added my own thing to go with it and thank you to @fuckoffthanos and @arctrooper69 for helping me out with deciding how this should go! Also, @arctrooper69, loved your idea and had to incorporate it somehow but just the way other things panned out, it's a bit on the tamer side but thank you again! Hope you everyone enjoys!

He waited by the shuttle and watched. He watched the group of newly redundant clones walk past. It was the same spiel from the Imperial officer every time- “The Empire thanks you for your years of service and wishes you well on your retirement.” Like that would really make a difference.

“CT-9904?”

Yes, that was who he was to them now. Just a designation, but at least he still had a purpose here, not like the countless others he’d seen be forced out. He turned to face the lieutenant who addressed him.

“You’re out of uniform.”

Right, yes. Can’t be seen to look too different. He put his helmet on and awaited his instructions.

“I’m Lieutenant Nolan, your commanding officer for this mission. We’re heading to the Imperial Depot on Barton-4. High-value cargo stored there has been targeted by local insurgents. We’re to secure it until it’s transferred at week’s end.” Nolan paused as he heard the faint voices of the clones already in the shuttle. He let out an irritated sigh. “Fantastic. More clones.”

“Problem, sir?”

“Yes. I don’t like used equipment.” He boarded the shuttle. “Let’s go.”

Right. ‘Used equipment.’ He couldn’t afford to give that more thought. There was a mission to complete. He grabbed his sniper rifle and stepped onto the ship.

Barton-4 was an ice planet. And a hostile one at that. The cold wind howled and worked its way through to his armour and seeped into his bones, and the gusts of snow made it hard to see ahead. It was understandable how things had been going so wrong. Getting caught off guard by native insurgents in a place like this would mean the squadron here would have no chance of defending themselves successfully.

The group made their way into the main cargo haul and Nolan addressed the droids moving the shipments. “Where is your supervisor?”

“You must be our reinforcements.”

They all turned in the direction of the voice who emerged from behind one of the containers.

“We expected you 36 rotations ago. Did you get lost?” The clone asked coolly.

“We work on the Empire’s schedule, trooper, not yours.” Nolan replied.

“It’s Commander, Lieutenant.”

“Well, Commander, your orders were to guard and protect this facility and its cargo, yet this outpost is grossly unguarded.” He followed the clone round the corner. “Where are the rest of your men?”

“Dead.” He replied bluntly before he introduced the clones cowering round a heat lamp. “Hexx, Veetch, and I, we’re all that’s left.”

Their names. He was using their names. Not designations.

“Your failings will be dealt with later.” Nolan scolded. “For now, I am in charge here until the cargo is transported.”

“I feel safer already.” The commander drawled.

“Look here, clone, you speak to me with respect.” Nolan snapped.

“In my experience, respect is something to be earned.”

The Lieutenant sneered. “Yet the Empire assigned you to this desolate rock, were you let the majority of your squad get killed.”

The commander didn’t rise to it. “Tell me, Lieutenant, how many missions have you commanded?”

Meanwhile, he watched the interaction between these two men with hidden interest. He liked that this clone wasn’t backing down so easily.

“That’s what I thought.” The commander said as his question was greeted by silence. He addressed his group behind him. “Boys, why don’t you help the new boss get situated?” As soon as they all left, he focused his attention on the soldier in black armour that had followed the lieutenant in. “You, uh, know the lieutenant well?”

“For about two hours.” He responded.

The commander scoffed. “Two hours too long, I bet.”

He hummed in agreement and was both surprised and grateful to see his fellow clone bring over the heat lamp.

“So, what’d you do to get stuck with this mission?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” He said distantly.

The commander’s laugh turned into a sigh. “The name’s Mayday.” He looked at the clone expectantly.

He debated for a moment. It had been so long since anyone had wanted to know his name and cared enough to ask about it. “Crosshair.” It almost sounded foreign; it had been a long time since he’d had a reason to use it.

“Welcome to The Outpost.” Mayday with faux celebration. He grabbed his helmet and blaster. “I’ll give you the lay of the land.”

Nothing was out of the ordinary, the ship flew peacefully through hyperspace, with you all deciding that you were going to heed Cid’s instructions- after all she had said you shouldn’t return if you didn’t scavenge anything from the crash site so you were doing as you were told and the added benefit of not being in her employment worked things out quite nicely.

So, why as you sat on the edge of your bunk, was it that with nothing being out of the norm, you had a deep sense of dread lingering in your heart? This was the worst it had been; you had sensed it creeping in the days since the failed mission from Cid and your sleep had been very limited but you had put the cause down as being the mission and assumed it would go away. It hadn’t. And last night had been the worst. It overwhelmed you and had prevented you from sleeping entirely and the exhaustion you were feeling wasn’t helping matters. A light tapping on your leg forced you out of your head.

You glanced down to see Hunter kneeling in front of you, hand on your knee. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“What’s going on?”

“Didn’t sleep well.” You said briskly, not wanting to create a fuss.

“Something on your mind?” Hunter asked kindly. He could tell you were putting a brave face on but even that couldn’t hide the dark shadows under your eyes and the way you could barely keep your head up.

You shook your head. You didn’t want to bother him with something you couldn’t even put a cause or label on. “Is something happening?” You jutted your head in the direction of the cockpit where the others were gathered.

Hunter let your deflection pass for now. He knew you well enough to know that he couldn’t push you to talk. You would come to him when you needed it.

“Phee got in touch. She’s got a mission for us, but she needs us to get some credits from a contact first.”

“And the catch?” You asked, stifling a yawn.

“Her contact seems to have five possible addresses to keep people guessing his location.”

You nodded slowly. “Honestly was expecting worse.”

Hunter gave you a small smile. “I’d figure I’d keep Omega with me and the rest of you split to check out each of the other addresses?”

“Sounds good, Seargeant.” You said as you stood up to go to the refresher. You splashed some water on your face, and you caught a glimpse of your reflection. You did look pretty rough. Your eyes were puffy and dark circles graced the skin underneath them. Maybe a distraction from this feeling would be a good idea. There wasn’t much you could do about the tiredness expect for push through but even doing a small job might help with forgetting for a little bit.

Not only had it sounded like Mayday and his team had been hung out to dry with degraded equipment and poor support all the while protecting cargo the Empire hadn’t deemed necessary to inform them of what exactly it was, but it also hadn’t taken long for the first attack on the depot to occur since he and the rest of them had arrived.

The raiders had made it in and out fast and had caused the deaths of the rest of Mayday’s team and had stolen more cargo. The only saving grace had been that Crosshair had been able to hit one of them as they retreated, and the blood trail led to a system of ice tunnels that had allowed them to slip through undetected for months.

Upon Nolan’s request, he and Mayday had gone in search of the crates, and they started with the ice tunnel.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Hunter asked you gently as the others stepped off the ship.

You knew he was coming from a good place, but your sleep-deprived state took it as more of an insult. “Yes.” You said tetchily.

Hunter raised his hands in appeasement. “I’m just checking in.”

You exhaled wearily and ran a hand across your face. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s probably best to just leave me be for the moment.” You lifted your hood and mask up.

Hunter debated pushing the matter further, but he decided to wait until this task was over. “Okay.” He put his helmet on and let you leave the ship first.

It turned out that Wrecker had the current address and after he confirmed everything went smoothly, Hunter had said you were all to head back to the ship. You cut down an alley way that was a shortcut but also a means to avoid a public scene since you’d been followed once you’d rounded the corner from one of the contact’s alternative residences. “Please, I’m in no mood to do this today.” You said tiredly as the figure dashed in front of you, halting you in your tracks. You stared the Weequay. “What do you want?”

“How’d you know about the money? I’ve been watching that house, and I heard your comm. Where’d you find him?”

“I don’t have it.” You ignored the crux of his question.

“No, but someone you know does. And you’re going to help us get it.”

You really couldn’t be bothered with a simple kidnapping. If you were going to be threatened today, you’d rather it be a bit more interesting than this. “You know you’re not actually going to get anywhere with that plan, right?”

The Weequay simply sniggered and drew a blaster.

You sighed heavily and reached for your holster. Your entire body was slow. You’d never felt so sluggish.

And that was probably why you didn’t pick up on the ‘us’ or register the person that came from behind and smacked the butt of their blaster across the back of your head.

“Alright, let’s get going.” Wrecker said cheerily as he stepped on board and put the case down. He took his helmet off.

Hunter glanced past him. “(Y/N)’s not with you?”

Wrecker shook his head. “Was she supposed to be?”

“She’s not come back yet, and we haven’t heard from her.” Omega informed him, her own troubled face matching Hunter’s.

Hunter reached for his comm and tried for you, but he got no reply. “She wouldn’t go radio silent without being told to.”

“You guys aren’t in a fight, are you?” Wrecker asked.

Hunter shot his brother an irritated look. “No. And even if we were, she knows better than to ignore any of us if we’re checking in.”

“(Y/N), come in.” Omega tried but again was met with no response.

Both Wrecker and Tech also attempted to get in touch with you, but nothing came through.

Hunter started pacing. You wouldn’t ignore all of them. You just wouldn’t, no matter what was happening. The panic was starting to set in now. It was something he rarely did and when he did do it, he didn’t like it, but now he was thinking he should’ve pulled his rank with you and at least made you stay on the ship. He’d known you were in not shape to go out there, even if it was a simple mission, whatever you were going through and the exhaustion you were experiencing would have an effect on anyone.

“Hunter, it’s her.” Tech called over from the cockpit as the ship’s main communication control lit up. Only it wasn’t your voice that came through.

“If you want to see her again, meet us with that lovely case of credits you picked up in 30 minutes.”

“How do we know she’s with you?” Hunter asked, doing his best to keep his voice level.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Her top has half a white skull on it.”

Dammit. Hunter paid no attention to the looks the others gave him. He needed to know more. He needed to know if you were okay. “I want to hear her. For all I know, you just saw her and that was the first thing you noticed.”

The voice chuckled unkindly. “She’s currently… unavailable for speaking. If you want that to be a more permanent state, then by all means, don’t do as we say. But, if you want her back, you better be here.”

“If you’ve hurt her-”

“It’s 20 minutes now. By all means, keep talking and pissing me off if you want her to suffer but I’d suggest you start walking.”

“Wait, but where are-” Omega started to say but the transmission cut out. “How are we supposed to find her?” She addressed the others.

“They used her own comm. I can trace it easily enough.” Tech said calmly as he got to work.

“The rest of us will go over her steps.” Hunter directed before he led the way off the ship.

If it wasn’t for the throbbing radiating throughout your skull, you might’ve been grateful for being knocked out. It was the closest thing you’d had to a rest. But the resulting headache and embarrassment at being so easily caught took precedence over any relief at being able to not think about what signals the Force was trying to send you. Now that you were awake, the feeling was back.

“Ah good, you’re up.”

You ignored the voice and took in your surroundings instead. The room was dark, the only light came from the faint glow of a lantern, and you were sitting with your back to a damp wall. Your hands were tied loosely in front of you with a piece of frayed rope. It was the worst attempt at kidnapping you’d ever experienced.

“Don’t worry. We’ve been in touch with your friends. Once we have the money, we’ll let you go.”

Your eyes had adjusted to the dimness, and it was then that you saw the two Weequay men standing by the doorway. You snorted. “Yeah, I’m not all that worried.”

“Oh yeah?” The one that had originally cornered you in the alley said.

“You two really don’t do this a lot, do you?”

“What are you talking about?” The one you didn’t recognise asked.

“Kidnapping people. You two are clearly new to the game.”

“Meaning what?” The first Weequay asked suspiciously.

You released an aggravated huff. You were too tired to do this, but it was your way out of here. “Meaning if you were regulars at this, you wouldn’t have used my comm to send your demands to my team- I’m assuming that’s what you did, right?” Their anxious glance to one another gave you your answer. You continued, “Ideally, you also would tie my hands behind my back, or, at the very least, you would double check the strength of the knot.”

“Check it.” The one you had seen first ordered his companion.

Perfect. As he kneeled down in front of you, you punched him on the underside of his jaw, and he crumbled to the floor. Acting quickly, you broke your hands out of their restraints, and you fired a stun blast from his blaster to the second one, who had been too taken aback by your actions to get his blaster out in time.

You grabbed your stuff and headed for the door, but it was then you heard the faint sound of someone grunting. You were still pretty out of it so as you moved to dodge the blade, your reaction wasn’t quite fast enough. You inhaled sharply as the knife sliced the part of your forearm that wasn’t protected by your armour. It wasn’t much more than a graze, but you could feel blood slowly secreting from the wound and it stung like hell. You whipped around and fired a stun bolt to the half-collapsed figure, and he fell unconscious.

You opened the door to be greeted by three familiar faces. “Oh. Hey, what brings you all here?”

“We were coming to rescue you.” Omega said as she peered around you to see the two knocked out Weequays.

“I appreciate it, kid. I’ll save you something to do next time.” You dug deep for the smile that graced your face as you touched her shoulder. “Thanks for coming after me, guys.” You said to the group.

“Did they hurt you?” Hunter asked urgently as he scanned your body for any obvious injures.

You shook your head. “Nothing major. It was my fault anyway. I completely switched off.”

“Yeah, what even happened?” Wrecker asked you.

“Don’t really wanna relive the humiliation at the moment, Wrecker.” You took a breath. “We good to go?” You asked Hunter who nodded and the four of you walked back to the Marauder.

“Tech, would you mind bringing the medkit down here?” You asked as you boarded the ship and sat down on your bunk. “Also, thanks for helping find me.”

“No thanks are necessary. Although, it was a relatively simple mission; I do not understand how this incident occurred in the first place or how you managed to injure yourself.” Tech said frankly as he pulled the medkit down and started to make his way over to you.

He was right but you were embarrassed enough to be so caught off guard like you were and you didn’t need more reminders. “Tech, what about my general demeanour right now makes you think I’m unaware of that fact?” You said through gritted teeth as you tossed your vambrace with a little too much zest judging by the way it smacked off the wall by your bed. You were doing your best to keep it together. You were determined to not let your mood affect the relationships around you.

“I only meant-”

“Tech.” Hunter warned him off calmly as he took to medpack from him. “Just get the ship in the air, okay?”

“Very well.” Tech said with a nod before he turned back for the cockpit.

Omega and Wrecker followed him.

“Do you want-” Hunter started to offer.

“I can do it myself, it’s a really small cut.” You said touchily as you held your hand out for the case.

Hunter didn’t fight you on it and he was prepared to give you space, so he handed it to you. “I’ll be in the cockpit with the others if you need me.” He risked a step forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

You did feel instantly more tranquil after he did that. “I’m sorry.” You uttered quietly as he stepped away.

Hunter tenderly rubbed a thumb across your cheekbone. “Get some rest.”

Crosshair and Mayday rounded the corner of the tunnel, and the blood trail came to an end. Both their lights found the dead body of the raider hunkered against the wall.

“He didn’t get far.” Crosshair said wryly.

Mayday kneeled down to examine the body. “Not sure what bothers me more. That he’s wearing armour stolen off my men or that his cohorts just left him here.”

“No point in carrying deadweight.”

Mayday glanced back at Crosshair. “Remind me not to die on your watch.”

Crosshair didn’t pay the comment much mind. He just carried on walking past, but he didn’t get very far as he suddenly came to a complete standstill as he heard the activation click of something hidden in the snowy ground. His best chance was to not move a muscle.

“Pressure mine.” Mayday stated.

“Mm-hmm.” Crosshair nodded.

Mayday brought his light down to examine it. “What were you saying about deadweight?”

“Do you know how to disarm it?”

“I’m not an explosives expert, but since I don’t feel like carrying your body back to the outpost, I guess I’ll give it a shot.” Mayday took off his helmet and put his blaster on the ground as well as his torch- but he kept the light trained on the pressure mine- as he crouched down. He blew away the flakes of snow still covering it. “Hmm. This mine’s a little different than ones I’ve seen before, but I’m pretty sure they’re all the same. Guess we’ll find out soon enough, huh?”

It wasn’t the most comforting of statements for Crosshair to hear, but he’d take any help he could get at this point.

Mayday pulled out his tools and carefully got to work. “I wish I had the proper equipment for this, but the Empire’s ignored all my requests. I’ve learned to improvise though. I guess all clones have had to since the war. Can’t say I ever thought much about the war ending…” he sighed, “… until it did.”

As Crosshair stood still on the mine and waited for Mayday to get him out of it, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander and start thinking about his old squad and how different this mission would be going. Tech would have the suitable equipment. Hunter would’ve known where to step to avoid a situation just like this and he’d have made finding these raiders look easy despite the conditions. And, even if one of them still found themselves in this position, Wrecker would’ve disarmed it with a degree of ease and sophistication people wouldn’t necessarily expect from him. While he would never admit it out loud, he was finding that he missed them. Mayday’s question to him pulled him out of his thoughts.

“What unit were you with?”

That was a question he did not want to answer. “It doesn’t matter.” He just about manged to grind out.

“Humour me. I could use the distraction.”

Well, if he wanted them both to make it out of this, he had to do what Mayday was asking of him. “Clone Force 99.”

“What happened to them?”

“They’re gone.” He replied subduedly. It wasn’t a lie. They were gone and he didn’t know where they had wound up or even if they were all still together and alive. It had been a long time now since that day on the platform on Kamino.

“And here we are, the survivors.” Mayday peered up at Crosshair. “Hmm. Combat troopers stuck babysitting cargo shipments.”

If he let his mind start to drift down that path any more than he already had on occasion, then he’d lose all sense of purpose. He’d lose that purpose he was so sure this Empire would provide. “Mission’s a mission.”

Mayday chuckled sarcastically. “Yeah, I used to say the same thing.” He inspected his work and grabbed his gear before he stood up. “There. That should do it.” As he saw Crosshair start to move, spoke up swiftly. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don’t pick up your foot yet. Wait until I tell you, then lift it, but real slow like.” He started to walk past him. “I’ll wait around the bend. If I don’t hear a boom, then I’ll know it worked.”

“Glad your confident in your work.”

Mayday put his helmet back on as he continued to walk away. “Oh, I’m confident. I’m just not stupid. Remember, nice and slow. On the count of three. One. Two. Three.”

Crosshair lifted his foot and sighed in relief when there was no explosion.

The two of them made their way out the tunnel into the storm. It was then they saw the light radiating from the raider’s base and they put their plan of attack into action.

It had been going well. The enemy bas was destroyed, and they were able to reclaim the cargo. They went down to the area where the cargo had spilled. But it was then when it had started to go wrong as they both discovered what it was they were risking their lives for and what it was Mayday and his men had men had devoted their lives to defending. And… and it wasn’t worth the fight they had put in.

“Gear?” Mayday said aloud as he examined the boxes. “We’ve been risking our lives to recover equipment we could have been wearing this whole time?”

Crosshair nudged a helmet with his foot to expose the design. “It’s not clone trooper gear.” Because why would it be? They were disposable after all.

Mayday picked up a breastplate. “New toys for their shiny new military, and we get the scraps. After all the clones have done, all we’ve sacrificed… We’re good soldiers. We followed orders. And for what?”

Crosshair didn’t have an answer for him. He thought he’d been a good solider but how was that being rewarded? He couldn’t see it. If he had any lingering doubts about where his place in this Empire was, this mission was doing a good job of eradicating them. He, Mayday, and all his fellow clones weren’t valued. They weren’t worth anything to this Empire.

Suddenly, a growing rumbling echoed around them.

“Go!” Mayday ordered as he saw avalanche hurtling towards them from the mountain behind them.

They ran as fast as they could through the deep snow, but they couldn’t outrun it, the best they could do was make it past the rock ahead.

Crosshair didn’t know what happened. One minute both of them were running side by side, and the next Mayday was knocking him past the rock and letting himself get swept up by the snow first which meant he smashed into the rockface.

Crosshair’s helmet was knocked away and the best he could do was take a deep breath as the snow smothered him.

Crosshair punched a hand through the top of the snow before his head followed and he breathed in the cold air. His entire body was numb and shivering but he couldn’t dwell on that for too long since he’d caught sight of Mayday’s helmet a few metres ahead. He heaved his way through the waist deep snow towards it and started to desperately dig through to find his companion.

It was after a few moments that Mayday’s face came into view, but his eyes were shut, and his body was limp as Crosshair propped him against the rock behind him. “Mayday? Mayday, wake up!” The faint groan from Mayday’s mouth was enough of an indicator that he was alive… that there was hope for him. “Come on. We have to move.”

Mayday’s eyes flickered open. “Go.” He gasped. “I won’t make it.”

Crosshair didn’t know what possessed him to grab Mayday’s helmet and put it back on his head. All he knew now as he supported Mayday’s body was that it was something he had to do. He had to make sure they both made it back and Mayday would survive. He was going to get them both through the storm.

Hunter came back from the cockpit to see everyone else asleep but you. You were perched on the edge of your bunk looking utterly shattered and anything but relaxed. You still had all your gear on, minus the one vambrace you’d taken off to tend to your cut earlier. “Sweetheart, you need to get some sleep.”

“I can’t.” You mumbled, utterly defeated, as you brought your head down to lean against his shoulder.

Hunter rested his head on top of yours. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“I can’t because I don’t know.” You sighed deeply and pushed your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m just so tired.”

“What can I do?” Hunter asked softly.

“Knock me out until we rendezvous with Phee.” You suggested, only half kidding.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea, but we can keep it as an option.” Hunter said lightly. “Come on.” He gently nudged you up, ignoring your slight groan of protest. He went to the ground in front of you.

“Okay, but I’m pretty tired, can’t promise I’ll be super enthusiastic.” You attempted levity but your tone was too flat.

“Hush you.” Hunter said with a slight grin. He got to work on taking your boots off before he came to sit next you. He started to delicately take your remaining armour off before he reached for the ends of your first layer. “Arms up.” He prompted tenderly.

Your arms felt heavy, but you did as he asked and he brought it up and over your head, taking care to not let you get caught in the material. “Now what?” You asked drearily.

“Now you lie down and close your eyes.”

“You know, I have tried doing that.” You said drily.

Hunter gave you an imploring look. “Just trust me, okay?”

You did and so you found yourself lying back down.

Hunter enveloped you. He rubbed, light, soothing patterns across your arms and back. He could feel how tense you were. He kept his voice quiet and low to create as restful an environment as he could for you. “I want you to focus on me. Nothing else. Nothing else matters. It’s just you and me here right now. Switch off. Focus on my voice. Focus on my heartbeat. Breathe with me.” He stared taking slow, deep breaths whilst continuing his peaceful touches. “It’s just us. I’m right with you. You don’t have to think about anything else. I love you. I’ll always be right here.”

You did as he asked. His hands were warm- if a little rough- against your arms but years of wielding a blaster would have that effect and you welcomed that feeling. It reminded you of all that he had survived, of what you all had survived and that he was there with you. Deep breaths. He’s here. He’s okay. Everyone’s okay. Shut it off. You thought to yourself. You mirrored his breathing and continued to listen to his words.

As the minutes grew longer and you continued to listen to him, you felt yourself start to relax into him. Your eyes grew heavy, and it was easier to keep them shut this time. How’d you know how to do this so well?

“Growing up with enhanced senses had its difficulties. I had to learn how to manage it.” He felt you nuzzle closer to him, and a deep sigh left your body. “There you go” He murmured as he kept caressing your body. “Keep breathing with me.”

Things felt easier now as you focused on him, on his scent, on the feeling of his hands on your body, on his breathing. And the last thing you remembered was you telling him you loved him and the kiss to the top of your head from him before you drifted off.

Crosshair staggered onto the main platform of the outpost and fell to his knees. He tried to be as gentle as he could when it came to putting Mayday down.

“About time you two returned.” Nolan said harshly as he approached the two men.

“He-” Crosshair broke off with an exhausted pant before he removed Mayday’s helmet. “He needs a medic.”

Nolan ignored him. “I see you didn’t retrieve the crates, which means you’ve failed your mission.”

How could that be all he was concerned about? “Did you hear what I said? Help him!” Crosshair begged as he could feel the pain and weariness creeping into his own body, but Mayday needed the help first. He had to be saved.

“Certainly not. That would be a waste of the Empire’s resources.”

“He’ll- He’ll die.” Did they truly not care? And it was then he heard one last pained cough from Mayday before his eyes shut and he fell silent. Crosshair searched for a pulse but found none. No. No. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“He served his purpose as a soldier of the Empire.” Nolan said unsympathetically.

Crosshair could feel white hot anger start to rise within him. “You- You could have saved him!”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. He is expendable, as are you.”

And there it was. Confirmation of the doubt he had been trying so hard to deny. Hunter had been right. They were only ever numbers.

“And if you speak to me again with such disrespect, I’ll see to it you meet a similar fate, clone.” Nolan continued disdainfully.

Crosshair caught the sight of the shadow of one of the ice vultures. He knew they were coming for Mayday. But it shouldn’t be here for him.

“Now, leave him and get back to work… while you’re still useful.” Nolan started to walk back to the shuttle.

Crosshair looked up to the sky and started at the circling bird. He’d thought he’d found a way to survive on his own too but that had changed. He was supposed to have this incredible ability to see things others couldn’t. How had he been so blind for so long? Well, no more. He’d had enough. He wasn’t concerned about the consequences he would face with what he was about to do. All he knew was that he wouldn’t give this Empire anything more.

He got unsteadily got to his feet and trained his blaster on the retreating back on Lieutenant Nolan. “Lieutenant.” He didn’t hesitate and the shot went straight through Nolan’s chest as soon as he turned around. It was after that final act that he finally let the exhaustion and agony take him and his sight went dark.

You awoke with a start and sat up. Things had been going well but that was a new development. You rested a hand on your chest as you felt your heart pounding. You shivered. You were cold, both outwardly and inwardly. There was a deep chill in your veins that left you feeling frozen and unsettled. You took a few deep breaths to settle yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Hunter rasped; his voice still thick with sleep as he sat up alongside you and laid his hand on your back.

“I don’t know.” You murmured uneasily as you fiddled with the bandage on your arm. “Something woke me up. There was this cold shadow and all I could feel was fear and pain, but I couldn’t see what from or who.”

“It was just a bad dream.” Hunter comforted. He kissed the back of your shoulder. “Come on, you should try to get back to sleep.”

“Right… a bad dream.” You whispered distantly as you let him lay you back down. Whatever it was that had woken you up, it felt real, it wasn’t just a bad dream, you were experiencing what someone else was going through but you didn’t have a face to put to the feeling and you didn’t know what it could be. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of Hunter’s arm draped over you, holding you close, but you couldn't shake the feeling like there was something more to what just happened and so sleep didn’t easily come this time around.

Crosshair woozily came around to the sound of equipment beeping. He didn’t recognise where he was, and it was then he heard the muffled sound of someone addressing him.

“Hello, CT-9904. Or do you prefer, Crosshair?”

His name. She was using his name. The woman that was speaking to him seemed to be some kind of doctor. “Where am I?” He asked wearily.

“I’m holding you for observation. Once you’ve healed, the doctor will come for you.”

She was holding a needle to his neck, yet she wasn’t the primary medic? “Who- Who are you?”

“Remain calm. Cooperate and you might survive.” That was all he registered before the needle pierced his skin and he fell into darkness once more.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @fuckoffthanos, @tpwkcalli, @graciexmarvel, @arctrooper69, @nightmonkeysstuff, @brujaporfavor, @flyingkangaroo, @sunkissedclones, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx, @dragonrider9905, @starwarsnerd111,

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 2 #the bad batch s2 #hunter x reader #hunter x femalejedi!reader #hunter x fem!reader #hunter x female!reader #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter xreader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars #angst #friends to lovers #hurt/comfort

67 notes · View notes

wrenwreads · 2 years

Text

wardrobe malfunctions

lady saves the day

pairing/s: edmund pevensie x princesss!reader

warnings: nothing

genre: fluff (idk rlly), strangers-to-friends

word count: 1.3k

a/n: i had an idea for this and literally i don’t even know what i wrote lmao. i had a vision but the vision was not seen afterwards. the kingdom mentioned in this fic is also like extra fictional so it doesn’t exist in narnia and is from my own head. i hope u still enjoy. once again, requests and questions are open 🫶

She could feel her hand itching. Itching to reach his shoulders and turn him around just to fix his up-turned collar and the bit of fabric that had managed to tuck itself in to his trousers.

The only problem being —

She hasn’t introduced herself yet.

High Kings and Queens of Narnia were way too busy entertaining a huge crowd around them, and based from her own experiences — she doesn’t want to involve herself just yet. So she waited.

But after seeing King Edmund’s wardrobe malfunctions, she was more than frustrated.

She doesn’t even know why she cared so much. Surely the king is able to do it himself. Maybe it was because of the annoying voice of her mum at the back of her head that constantly told her to fix the sleeves of her dress growing up. Or the idea that maybe someone will have noticed it themselves and decided to humiliate the king instead of helping — Aslan knows why people choose to do that rather than be the martyr.

So she stood at the corner — much to her parent’s dismay — and waited.

It came at last. Everyone decided to start dancing around the ball and she took her chance.

Her mother had introduced her to a kind gentleman, who she took the opportunity with to bring to the dance circle. “Just to let you be aware, I’m not looking for anything,” she said, pointedly looking at the man whose hand was on her waist. He chuckles, “Glad we are on the same page, my lady, for I have someone in particular very close to my heart,” he spoke, his tone full of adoration. She smiled, patting him on the shoulder as they both continued dancing. “I wish you all the best of luck. I am sure she is one beautiful lady.”

Three songs later and she finally made it closer to the king. Who — even after all those twists and turns — still wasn’t able to fix himself. She could only sigh at this point. They had switched partners a long time ago. Now she was with a lovely faun — Mr. Tumnus, he had introduced himself — and he had her smiling throughout their dance together. He was a lovely and kind faun indeed, no wonder the young Queen Lucy was so fond of him.

“I’ll see you around my lady, have fun with the king.”

And just like that, he spun her out of his arms and in to the arms of the one and only King Edmund the Just.

“Hello, your majesty”

She couldn’t help but not ignore how his eyes had widened briefly. “Hi”.

The timid answer from him had her smiling in pity. She almost felt bad for what she was going to do after. “Turn around,” she ordered under her breath. Edmund furrowed his brows in confusion, ducking his head down. “What?”

“I said turn around”.

It was probably from the way she had to grit her teeth to avoid shouting, but Edmund confusingly obliged.

Still moving their feet around, she began her mission.

Edmund suddenly felt fabric being pulled off his neck and other from his waist. Somehow, he felt more comfortable than before. The lady before him must have noticed, for she only smiled kindly when she turned him around. “You’re welcome,” she said, before doing a curtsy and leaving him behind on the dance floor.

It was when he only noticed the music had stopped and everyone else had too, catching their breaths. He brought his hand up to his collar — only to realise at why she had done the action so. Edmund looked around the room to look for her, but she was nowhere to be found. He mentally cursed himself for not introducing himself beforehand and catching her name.

Edmund made his way to where his siblings were stood, who were already looking at him incredulously. “What’s the matter this time?” Lucy asked. Edmund sighed heavily, a hand coming up to his face to wipe around his mouth. He looked back at his siblings, more so at Susan, the action not going unnoticed by the older girl. “Do you have something to say Ed?”

“Just… don’t get angry at me,” he reasoned out.

Susan only raised one eyebrow. Edmund took this as his signal, taking a big breath in before he spoke. “During the dance, I got to be partnered up with this girl…”

"I don't understand your problem?"

"Well... I thought she was a bit overbearing at first, telling me to turn around, but I followed and she sort of... fixed my collar and tail for me," he finished sheepishly, pursing his lips upon seeing Susan's almost horrified expression. "Didn't I tell you to fix yourself bef—"

"I did, Su! I promise, I did."

"It didn't sound like it. Did you thank her, at least?"

His silence was an enough answer for Susan. The older girl rolled her eyes, trying her best to keep her demeanor calm as they were after all, still at the party. Peter and Lucy, the ever so supportive siblings they were, only stood quiet — their chuckles making Edmund grit his teeth, refraining himself from uttering a single word to them. "What was she wearing? So we can thank her," Susan asked, her eyes searching around the ballroom.

Edmund dug through his brain for an answer.

"White, sort of, almost cream dress."

"That's helpful."

He rolled his eyes at the sarcastic remark.

"And, I don't know? Gold detailing—"

"Gold!?"

Lucy's outburst had caught Edmund's attention. What was so important about one dress that had gold in it?

"Why? What's with that ma—"

"Edmund..." Lucy scrunched her face in sympathy. Edmund had never been so confused in his whole life. He looked at Peter for an answer, although he wish he hadn't, for the smirk that had grown on his brother's face made him want to punch it off. "You may or may not have humiliated yourself in front of the Princess of Luvaria."

“Wha— what do you mean?”

“Did you already forget? The princess is literally known for the gold she puts on her dresses.”

Edmund pouts. "I did not humiliate myself," he argued.

"Your face says other wise, Ed."

The next morning, Edmund woke up frantic. The events of the night before frizzling his mind, he almost didn’t fall asleep.

Her name’s Y/N. Princess Y/N rather. From Luvaria. From all places, she had to be the Princess of Luvaria.

He was too caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t registered the voice talking to him.

“You’re majesty, are you alright?”

He blinked once. Twice. And suddenly, it was the Princess of Luvaria’s eyes on his. “Yes— yes! I’m alright, it’s just the early morning— you know and oh! Bloody hell where are my manners, good morning, you’re majesty,” he stumbled, body falling down in to a curtsy. The young lady in front of him only giggled, grabbing his shoulders to stand him up right again. “None of that, your majesty. It’s Y/N to you. Although, I should be the one showing my respect, it is your kingdom after all,” she commented, gracefully bowing into a curtsy herself.

Edmund took the short moment to observe her. She was royalty, all right. With all her gracefulness and elegance, she lives up for the status of Luvaria. She looked more casual this time around, an everyday dress hugging her figure compared to the extravagant white and gold gown she had the night before.

“None of that either… Y/N,” the princess smiled warmly at the use of her name, “Edmund will do just fine. Have you had any breakfast yet?”

The question had her shaking her head as a no. Edmund smiled, offering his elbow for her, “Should we go together, then?”. Y/n accepted, placing her hand on the crook before the two walked together to the dining hall. “I must say Edmund, you look quite out together this morning,” she said. Edmund had to fight the urge to choke on air, desperately and silently trying to clear his throat. He was failing however as the princess beside was smirking. “Thank you — by the way — for last night,” he spoke, glancing down at her face.

“I hope you didn’t get into to much trouble.”

“Not really, mainly just Susan’s.”

thanks for reaching the end!!! hope u enjoyed, constructive criticism is highly appreciated and welcomed. xoxo

#edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #the chronicles of narnia x reader #x reader #pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie x f!reader #edmund pevensie one shot #edmund x you #edmund pevensie imagine #edmund pevensie x fem!reader #edmund pevensie x y/n #the chronicles of narnia #edmund pevensie fanfiction #edmund pevensie ff #wrenwritesed

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idkversace · 1 year

Text

party- Virgil van Dijk

virgil invites you to a Robertson’s party and picks you up for awhile and no one notices you guys went out to make out.

Words: 2.159

Warnings: alcohol, smut, cute

*English is not my native language

POV VVD

With each passing hour the party fills up more and more, I didn't know that Robbo knew so many people, to tell you the truth I don't think he did, it was friends of friends that happened. I came straight from an appointment without thinking much about how I was dressing, but looking back now I think I should have gone at home, people are wearing linen shirts, well-pressed pants, women wearing beautiful dresses from very expensive brands, while my jeans and my sweatshirt made me comfortable and maybe too comfortable.

"Virgil?" - I hear Robbo calling me

“Hey”

"Bro, where were you?"

“Here, hey”— I answer, settling down and leaning on the counter that was behind me and taking a sip of my beer

"You've been looking at the door for ten minutes," Trent, who was with me, tells me

“I'm not”

“Waiting for someone?” A woman who just arrived says as she holds my arm and calls the bartender

“No” I say looking at the door but the truth is that I'm waiting, Y/N and I, we've been going out for some time and every time we talk I have the full conviction that I'm falling in love with her. I invited her to the party but because of the appointment earlier with some doctors and physiotherapists to help with a small injury I had during training I couldn't get it, but she proposed to come and then I would take her home. The woman who stopped next to me keeps bringing up the subject and I'm dry with words until I see her entering the house, she's stunning with a black dress that marks her entire body and sneakers of the same color, Y/N had already told me that High heels weren't something she liked to wear, and I admired more and more when she didn't just wear them to impress me or someone else. As soon as our eyes meet, they radiate something we've been holding onto for ages. Lust. Y/N nods indicating she saw where we are and I feel anxious, I feel anxious to be able to touch her, she walks over to me, stopping in front of me while I compose myself and hug her, the guys are not understanding because I didn't mention that she was coming and they had never seen her. While hugging I speak in her ear “you look beautiful” and she squeezes me in her arms and lets me go greeting the guys introducing themselves, I don’t fail to analyze how beautiful and smelling she is.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N” Robbo says

"Virgil didn't say you were coming, we're surprised. Nice to meet you” - Trent Speaks

“I didn't even know if I was going to make it and you do” I say as I turn around at the counter ordering two more beers. The bartender brings it to me and I extend one to Y/N who accepts and thanks.

We were talking for a long time and enjoying the party, some time later Bobby and Renata arrive and Y/N engages in a conversation with my friend's wife, while the guys and I discuss about the next teams we would face.

Y/N and Renata go in search of seeing Robbo's new house and greeting Robbo's wife. I see Y/N coming over smiling and stopping beside me as she touches my arm over the top of the sweatshirt I'm wearing.

"Want another beer?" I say getting close to her

“I'll take some water” she says smiling while looking at me with those eyes she remembered a few nights ago when we were at her house drinking wine and by the second glass she was already drunk and sleepy, I call the bartender and ask for a still water for her.

“That day was a disaster,” she says as we share the same memory and I nod laughing.

"It wasn't, you know it wasn't!" Y/N got up the other day late for work while I missed practice because we spent all night talking while she did her best to stay awake

“I can't drink wine without you, Virgil,” she says and kisses me on the cheek.

“I don't want you to take it without me, always wait for me” I say, touching her hand subtly, she gives me a smile

"Did your appointment go well today?" - Y/N ask me

“We are evolving in the conversation, I think it will be success” I say, but without putting too much expectation

"It's going to be all right, I'll be here if you need me."

“I doubt it, but thanks for the support”

“I have a question” I say changing the subject, I don't want to talk about the injury much less about boring subjects while Y/N is totally beautiful next to me, this time I speak getting very close to her ear.

“I'm at your service, big boy” Y/N speaks in my ear

"If I rob you of a few minutes, do you think anyone will notice?" I ask

"If they notice, let them think we're gone." - she says and runs her tongue over her lips. I take Y/N's hand and head towards the hallway, dodging some people.

The hallway is empty and dimly lit, I lean Y/N on one of the windowsills, my body covers the woman in front of me and I kiss her, I place my hands on her waist and she wraps her arms around my neck pulling me further and deepening the kiss, my hands roam her side. We broke the kiss out of breath.

“Someone will see,” she says.

"No one will see," I say.

“But what if someone sees it and tomorrow it's in the tabloids in England?”

“Okay, if you want to leave then let's go I'll go right behind you” I get out of front of her waiting for her to get out of there and leave, but I'm caught by surprise

“God! you're going to kill me Virgil” she says she pulling me back to where I was before.

Y/N kisses me with desire and sticks her body to mine, her hands go to mine and there she leaves some scratches, while one of my hands stops at her waist and the other is in her hair

"I wish we had it at home," she tells me.

“We can go there you know right?”

“We can't, Robbo is your friend, it would be ugly”

“It's ugly that you turn me on and you know it”

“Yeah, I know” she says and laughs, she kisses me again and I put her on top of the railing. Y/N stays at my height, I open her legs and fit in there, we intensify the kiss and we don't care who could pass.

I squeeze her inner thigh and Y/N shivers, her hands are on my neck.

I bite her earlobe and she sighs and I pull up her dress a bit and run a finger over her panties. Cum! she's wet ready for me

“Damn Y/N, I really wanted to take off this dress of yours” I say softly and my finger is still pressed on your panties

“Virgil! - she says like a supplication bumping my lips and I give a smile, I make a move to remove my hand but she holds my hand and looks at me with supplication.

I kiss her and she reaches further forward causing my finger to have more contact with her panties that are already wet, my free hand goes to her neck and I pull further forward intensifying and she spreads her legs further. I push her panties to the side and my finger makes contact with her clit.

“Virg someone will see” - she says almost like a low moan

“Shiiu no one will see everyone is crazy or dancing, calm down” I say looking at her

I start the quiet, circular strokes on her clit and she gasps and squirms looking for more contact, Y/N is on fire and seeing that I'm the one providing this, my arousal rises even higher. I stick a finger in her and I see her bite her lips when I start the back and forth slow and she wants to let out a moan, she kisses me pulling my neck hard and squeezes my hand closing her thighs around it, I understand the message and speed up the movement, she she bites my lips so hard I taste blood as she starts kissing me again.

“van Dijk” she moans softly in my ear and I intensify the movements and my thumb starts stroking her clit, I kiss her neck, I move my hand up and squeeze one of her breasts and Brooke moans softly, in a hoarse way in the my ear

“Please” - she says and I increase the speed feeling her shudder in my arms, she kisses me hard and cum on my finger letting go of Virgil in the middle of the kiss.

I withdraw my hand from between her legs and leave it beside her body, she is limp and sweating as she looks up at me with a satisfied smile, pulls me in for another kiss.

“How can I thank you?” - she asks me softly

"No need to thank you, you know."

"But I want to," she says and runs her hand over my erection.

“Y/N” - I say softly - “Come on let's find a bathroom, we need to clean up.” I take her dress down and take her off the railing and she holds my clean hand so we can find a bathroom, we meet some people along the way in the hallway and say hello as if nothing had happened.

We find a bathroom and enter it, as soon as I close the door, she presses me in it and kisses me. Her hand goes straight to my erection and starts stroking over my pants.

“Y/N,” I whisper to her with my lips still glued together.

“Shut up” she says and unbuttons my pants - “I must say you look really good in jeans”

"Are you going to praise me now?" - I say

“It's never too late” she says and laughs, her hand goes to my dick on top of my boxers and squeezes it.

I kiss her and she takes my cock out of my underwear and starts caressing it, making back and forth movements, one of my hands goes to her ass and lifts one of her legs making the dress lift and her ass is exposed, she fits the leg lifted at my waist and my fingers part the lace of her panties and I penetrate with two at once. Y/N intensifies the back and forth movements on my cock and I do the same with my fingers, we moan softly each other's name and kiss, my free hand goes to my neck and I pull her closer. I take her in my lap and let her legs open as my cock rubs against her entrance. I get in and out slowly as she pleads in my ear for me to fuck her hard, but I have to control myself because we're not home.

“Virgil” - she speaks softly almost like a whisper and I feel her once again spill into my fingers and I come along with her.

“This was intense” I say taking my cock out of her and lowering her legs, she rests her forehead on my chest and we take a deep breath until our breathing returns to normal.

When we're back to normal, we go to the sink and wash up. We straightened up and left the bathroom, I took her hand and walked towards the crowd.

“This was amazing” - she says squeezing my hand and twitching remembering the feeling of having her under me.

"At your service always" I say with a laugh.

“Well, God made us in a separate house because either I would be pregnant or we wouldn't leave the house” - she laughs

"No babies yet, how about that?" - I stop looking at her and kiss her affectionately this time. I want to ask if she wants to stay with me, if she wants to live with me, but I know that Y/N is independent enough to take care of herself, and I don't want to rush things with her, I want to do it right.

Renata walks by and tells us that Geral is back there, no one seems to have missed us, we go to the backyard and leave Y/N there and get a drink, when I come back they are laughing at something Robbo said, Y/ N looks at me and calls me, I go after her and hug her putting my arms around her neck and leaning against the backyard wall bringing her along with me.

#virgil van dijk #virgil van dijk smut #virgil van dijk fic #virgil van dijk one shot #liverpool #liverpool fc #liverpool fic #footballer imagine #football imagine #virgil van dijk imagine #football fanfic #football fanfiction

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