Tumgik
#i sent them a request to fix it so maybe when YOU see it it won't be that way LOL
Note
Alright, and here's request #2
May I ask for Fives and Fox
with Prompt 14: Last Words
Where Fives is haunting Fox after his death. Where "the nightmares are over" is twisted to "the nightmare has just begun".
Girl, you helped me come up with this, you know what to write, lol
❤️ - @vodika-vibes
In Your Head
Fox
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Summary: Fox has a hole in his memory that he can't seem to fix, and when he starts hallucinating about the clone he killed, it leads to dire consequences.
Pairing: none
Characters: Fox, Thorn, ghost!Fives
Tags & Warnings: character death, alcohol, drunkenness, hallucinations, paranoia, minor suicidal ideation, violence, whump
Word Count: 6.2k
Author's Note: First of all, I'm going to apologize for how long it's taken me to write one of these requests. Second, all of the requests are still sitting in my ask box. I haven't gotten rid of any of them and I still plan on writing all of them. It's just gonna take me a bit. To be honest, this fic is more Fox whump than Fives whump, but eh, it's still whump and it still includes one of the 501st boys, so that counts, right? As always, please enjoy 💚
Beta: @beating-a-dead-plot
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Fox sits hunched over his desk and anxiously raps his stylus against the side of his data-pad. He's read the report five times now and each pass yields the same results. His CC number is littered throughout the paragraphs, but for the life of him, he can't remember any of it. He looks up at the chronometer again and shakes his head. Time has moved, but he hasn't. He's been sitting here at his desk doing flimsi-work since early morning, but the report states otherwise.
It's not just the strange lost time that concerns Fox either, or the fact that his CC number is in a report. That's normal. What bothers him about this report is the fact that it clearly states in paragraph four, line six, that he shot and killed a clone. And no matter how hard he racks his brain, he can't remember it. He hasn't moved from his desk, and yet, the timestamp puts the incident at an hour ago. An hour ago he was at his desk. An hour ago he was doing flimsi-work.
Fox raps his stylus faster and taps his foot to match the rhythm, the nervous energy in his body escaping through the repetitive movements. He wouldn't shoot a clone without a reason, would he? The Coruscant Guard has stunned countless rowdy and reckless, and even dangerous clones, but a brother doesn't shoot another brother with the intent to kill. That's not part of their culture. Even bad clones deserve to explain their actions, but those are few and far between.
It must be a mistake. A typo. There has to be a logical explanation as to why his CC number is in the report even though he wasn't there. Still, he has this odd sinking feeling scratching at the back of his mind that it might not be a mistake. The clone he allegedly shot was from the 501st, from Torrent Company. One of Rex's men. Fox sent a simple comm message to Rex, offering his condolence, but Rex's silence worries him. It's not like Rex to leave a comm unanswered.
Fox drops the data-pad onto his desk with a loud clack and his chair creaks when he leans back. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and brushes the damp curls out of his eyes. It must be a mistake. There is no other explanation. He doesn't have an explanation for the lost time, but there must be a reason for that as well. Maybe he fell asleep. It's not impossible since he doesn't get the best sleep. His caf is cold, so obviously time has passed since he last filled it.
The data-pad dings and Fox leans forward to see what the notification is for. He sighs and taps on the icon to open it, and his brows furrow as he reads the new information. A surveillance holo-recording of the incident is now available and has been attached to the report. Fox huffs. This should clear up everything. He taps the icon to play the recording and watches intently. It was probably some trigger-happy shiny that he'll have a stern talking to later on… but it's not.
Fox's breath hitches and his eyes widen. That's not some random corrie. That's him. That's his armor. He has the fleeting thought that someone stole his armor and impersonated him, but he quickly realizes he's still wearing it. He hasn't taken it off since he put it on this morning. Panic rises in his gut and he continues to watch the recording. He flinches at the moment he pulls the trigger. A blaster bolt leaving the barrel instead of a stun bolt. He killed him. He killed a brother.
That explains why Rex never commed him back. Rex's emotional plea, Fox don't, stabs him in the heart, turning his innocent condolence message into him just rubbing salt into an egregious wound. The report noted the clone killed as ARC-5555 – Fives – one of Rex's best. Fox only remembers the name because Rex sent him a holo-photo of his two new ARC troopers when they graduated. Rex was so proud. Then he lost one on Lola Sayu, and today, he lost the other.
Fox has seen and read enough. It was him, he knows that much, but he still doesn't remember being there. He doesn't remember aiming his blaster, or flicking the safety off, or giving a warning, or pulling the trigger. It's like he was sleep walking, even though not a single clone out of millions has ever been noted to do so on record. He finds it even more odd that he was on scene for the shooting and then left. It's not like him to leave a scene without getting statements or starting his report. Now that he thinks about it, he didn't even write this report. Who did?
Fox yells in frustration and kicks the leg of his desk. Why can't he remember? How could he forget he shot and killed a brother. How could he forget Rex's voice begging him not to? How could he forget leaving his office and coming back? Fox feels sick. Not only did he kill a brother, he killed one of Rex's. A beloved brother. With Rex's radio silence, he probably lost Rex too. Fox doesn't blame him. Not after watching the footage. He would hate himself too, and he does.
Fox pulls a ring of keys from his belt pouch and inserts one into the lock on the bottom desk drawer. It clicks and he pulls it open, revealing a small stash of alcohol resting against the back. The glass bottles clink as he searches for a specific one. Finding it, he pulls it out of the drawer and places it on his desk. He leans down to grab a glass, hesitates, then closes the drawer without taking it. He twists the cap off the bottle, grabs the neck, and tilts the opening to his lips.
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"Fox?" Thorn whispers as he peeks into the dark office. "Are you in here?"
Fox groans in response. His torso rests on top of his desk and the side of his face lays on the cool surface with one hand loosely wrapped around an almost empty glass bottle.
Thorn sighs and shakes his head. "What are you doing, Fox?"
"Go away," Fox slurs. His body twitches at the sudden exertion.
Thorn ignores Fox's inebriated order and pulls up a chair to sit opposite Fox's desk.
"Talk to me," Thorn says.
"Nothin'... to talk about," Fox answers.
"You're drunk while on duty," Thorn says. He grabs the bottle out of Fox's loose grip and sets it out of reach. "Why don't we start with that?"
Fox slowly picks his head up to look at Thorn, and he struggles to keep it steady. "Usen'ye," he says, then lays his head back down onto the desk making the room stop spinning.
Thorn taps his fingers against the desk's surface next to Fox's head and Fox flinches at the magnified sound. "I read the report."
Fox groans, but this time with more indignation.
Thorn crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. "I've got all night."
"You're so… annoying," Fox slurs as he slowly picks his head back up to look at Thorn. "You know… that?"
Thorn smirks. "Part of my charm."
"Karking… banthas… have more charm," Fox says, his head swaying as he tries to keep it upright. "You're ugly… too."
Thorn rolls his eyes. "You're getting off topic."
"Why… are you… even here?" Fox asks. He reaches for the bottle and Thorn leans over to move it again.
"You killed a vod," Thorn says.
Fox huffs. "What... do you… know about it?"
"Nothing," Thorn says. "That's why I'm here. To talk to you about it, because clearly it's affecting you."
Fox reaches for the bottle again and Thorn moves it. "I'm… not effective."
"Yeah, I can see that," Thorn raises an eyebrow. "You can't even talk straight."
"Blow it out your… exhaust port," Fox sneers, then reaches for the bottle once more.
"Really?" Thorn asks, as he lifts the bottle up out of Fox's reach. "If I give you the bottle back, will you talk to me?"
Fox smirks through hooded eyes. "Sure."
Thorn places the bottle back down onto the desk and pushes it towards Fox. Fox grabs it, sits back in his chair, and shoots the last burning drops down his throat, then slams the empty bottle down onto the desk.
"Talk," Thorn says. "Why'd you kill a vod?"
Fox chuckles. "I don't know."
Thorn's eyes darken. "This isn't a game, Fox."
"Nah," Fox says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Games… are fun. This... This isn't..."
Thorn tilts his head to the side and studies Fox for a moment. Even drunk, Fox usually makes some sense, but this particular time he's making zero sense. It's not that hard of a question, but his avoidance in answering it is making Thorn worry. There's something Fox isn't telling him and he needs to know what it is in order to help him get out of this slump and back to normal. Having a drunk Marshall Commander leading the Coruscant Guard is going to get them nowhere fast.
"Fox," Thorn prods.
"Don't Fox me," Fox spits in response. "How'd you… like it… if I said your name? Thorn. Thorn. Thorn. Thorn–"
"Alright, I get it," Thorn interjects. "Just tell me what happened."
"I don't know," Fox lazily shrugs.
"What do you mean you don't know?" Thorn asks.
"I don't remember," Fox says.
"You don't remember shooting a vod?" Thorn asks, narrowing his eyes.
"Nope," Fox says, making a popping sound on the second consonant.
Thorn pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "You have to remember something? You killed him. Don't you remember that? Were you drunk then, too?"
"No, I wasn't drunk," Fox says, his agitation growing at the continued questioning. "I just don't remember!" He pounds his fists on the desk, making Thorn flinch.
"Easy, vod," Thorns soothes and reaches out a hand to try and calm him down. "It's okay."
"No!" Fox yells with a jerk as he weakly bats Thorn's hand away. "Is not. I shot… a vod. I killed… a vod, and I can't… kriffin' remember!"
Thorn realizes he's not going to get anywhere with Fox being this drunk and worked up, so he decides to cut his losses and try again later. "Get some rest," he says before getting up from his chair. He looks down at Fox's dilapidated state, shakes his head, then turns to leave.
"Bring me… more booze," Fox demands.
Thorn turns around and scoffs. "You don't need any more of that."
Fox grabs the empty bottle and throws it towards Thorn, but it hits the wall by the door instead and shatters into a million pieces. "Shabuir," Fox snarls.
Thorn sighs. "We'll talk again when you're sober." He turns back towards the door and leaves Fox alone in his office.
Fox grumbles and lays his heavy head back down against the cool desk. He's not really angry at Thorn, as annoying as he is. No. He's angry at himself. Angry that he can't remember what his own two hands did. Angry that he can't remember where his own two feet took him. Angry that his brain won't put all of the pieces together or fill in the blanks. Where did his memory go? Did it grow legs and walk away from him? Did it leave him or did he leave it? Is that even possible?
Fox would stay laying against his desk all night if he could, but the ache in his back is beginning to overpower his drunken haze. Part of getting old, he guesses. He needs to try and make it to his couch where he can stretch out and fall asleep. At least while asleep he won't have to think about it. That was the idea behind the alcohol in the first place; drink to forget, but it didn't have the effect he was hoping for. If anything, it only made it worse. Then Thorn butted in and ruined it.
Fox tries to peel himself off of his desk, but his body is heavy. He manages to sit up, but then slumps back into his chair, whacking his head against the back of it. He groans at the pain and rubs the spot. When he opens his eyes, the room is spinning, and it makes him feel sick. Well, sicker than he already felt before he was drunk. He chuckles to himself. The good stuff was really good. He hasn't been this drunk since he was a shiny new commander hot off Kamino.
Trying again, Fox plants his hands squarely on his desk and rocks to push himself out of the chair. He tries once and can't get it. He tries twice and still can't get it. He tries thrice and finally he's on his feet, although he uses a little too much force and falls forward onto the desk. Maybe it's better if he crawls to the couch instead of walking there. He lets the weight of his lower body slide the rest of him off the desk until he's sitting on the ground and leaning against the desk.
He leans past the desk and turns his head to see where the couch is, but he leans a little too far and slumps over onto the ground. He groans. This was a terrible idea. He wishes he could get Thorn to come back and carry him to the couch, but that would bruise his ego into an irreparable state. No, he has to make it on his own. With a little wiggle of his hips, Fox rolls himself onto his stomach and crawls towards the couch. Usually, it's closer, but right now it feels klicks away.
Maker, he's tired. Why did he have to put the couch so far away from his desk? Or better yet, why can't it come to him? You'd think someone would've invented a moving couch by now, but no, the Galactic Republic is too busy making clones to do anything of real use in his lifetime. And yet, Fox continues to crawl towards his couch, cursing it every time he scoots closer. With one final push, he makes it, but accidentally bumps his head against the leg. He curses it again.
Now, it's just a matter of hoisting himself up onto the stupid thing so he can finally go to sleep. Once again, something that used to be so trivial is causing him grief. Why is it so high up? Why is the floor so far down? Why won't the room stop spinning? He wishes he could steady himself long enough to get a grip, but his body is heavy from the alcohol. However, with a little more effort and a lot more cursing, Fox grabs one of the cushions, pulls himself up, and flops onto the couch.
Thank the Maker, he finally made it. Fox rolls off of his stomach and situates himself with his back against the back of the couch so he doesn't suffocate himself within the couch cushions. Although, at this point, that doesn't sound like such a bad idea. He chuckles to himself about the thought. Thorn would kill him. He would find some way into the afterlife and kill him again for being such an idiot. Although, to him, it's a comforting thought; Thorn coming after him like that.
Even if Fox hates to admit it, Thorn is still his best friend. Some days they absolutely can't stand each other, but when push comes to shove, there's no one he'd rather have his back in this war. Perks of growing up together, he figures. Fox releases a wide yawn that makes his stomach churn, but he's happy that his body wants to rest. With a few slow breaths, he lets himself drift off to sleep, wondering if he'll wake up and finally remember or if his memory will still be adrift.
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Fox groans as he stirs from his sleep. He slowly opens one eye and sees that it's still dark out, which means either he slept until the next evening or he barely slept at all. He doesn't feel drunk anymore, so maybe he did sleep for a while; an absolute miracle. Even more surprising is the fact that no one bothered him while he slept, which also means Thorn kept everyone away and covered for him. The idiot. He'll need to apologize and thank Thorn the next time he sees him.
Fox carefully shifts to sit himself up, holding the side of his head as it pounds from the hangover. He hasn't had a hangover like this in a very long time. He'll have to look at the label on the bottle and get himself another one of whatever it was. Blinking a few times to get rid of the glaze over his eyes, he looks around the room, but frowns when he sees the broken glass by the door. Oh yeah. I broke it. Guess he won't be buying another one of those anytime soon. What a shame.
With a deep breath, Fox hoists himself up off the couch and grabs the arm to steady his shaky legs. He doesn't feel woozy, but his body still feels heavy, like there are rocks in his head weighing him down. He rolls his neck, then his shoulders, and then arches his back to stretch it out. One of his vertebrae makes a popping sound and he groans. Even though he tried to lie down in a good position, couch-sleep is still not as nice as a bunk. He needs some ibuprofen.
Fox hobbles his way to the refresher connected to his office, and is, once again, thankful for the amenities he has access to as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. It would be embarrassing to walk down to the guard barrack's communal refresher to compose himself. Thorn would get a good laugh, though, the jerk. He'd say something stupid just to piss him off. But that's the game they play, because Fox has embarrassed Thorn on multiple occasions too.
Fox steps into the refresher without flipping the light switch on, and twists the faucet knob to run the water cold. He cups the rushing water in his hands and splashes it onto his face. The cool water feels good on his hot skin and soothes his throbbing headache. He does that a few more times, and then one last good splash that he smooths over his unruly curls. He pats his face with the towel and stares at himself in the mirror, except something about his reflection is… off.
Fox rubs the towel across his face again, thinking he has some water stuck in his eyes making his vision blurry, but the reflection still looks odd. He then uses the towel to wipe down the mirror, leaving small streaks of water where he swiped, but that doesn't clear it either. Refusing to play with it any longer, Fox opens the mirror cabinet and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen. He pops a few and swallows them dry, wincing as he feels them go down his throat, then closes the cabinet.
Hi Fox , a voice says.
Fox startles and stumbles back, crashing against the opposite wall with a loud thud. "Kriff, Thorn!" Fox exclaims. He turns his head towards the refresher door to rip Thorn a new one, but he's not there. "Thorn?" he calls, but there's no answer. He peeks his head out of the refresher to see if there's anyone in his office, but it's still dark and empty. It's just him. He's never had a hangover that made him hear things before… he thinks. Fox's heart races with adrenaline.
Fox , the voice says.
Fox flinches at the sound of his name, and whips his head around to try and figure out who's calling him, but there's still no one there. "Thorn," Fox says. "I swear to the Maker, I will kill you."
So, you like to kill, huh? the voice says.
Fox freezes, his blood running cold. He didn't just hear that, did he? The sound of another clone talking to him, but he's still alone in the refresher. His instincts are screaming for him to run and find Thorn, because clearly he's hallucinating, or sick, or dying, or all three at once. He shouldn't be hearing voices, or at least he doesn't think he should be hearing voices. Fox closes his eyes and takes a couple deep breaths to calm himself and just hopes that whatever it is will go away.
It's rude to ignore people, you know , the voice says. Especially dead people.
Yup, he's crazy. He's one hundred percent certified crazy now. Not only is he hearing voices, but he's hearing voices of the dead . What did he do while he was drunk and asleep? Conjure a demon? Summon a spirit? Invite a deity to chat over some caf? How did he even do that? The other option is that he's still plastered and is hallucinating being sober. Honestly, both ideas sound equally as insane, but do they really make any less sense than him hearing voices?
"Whatever you are," Fox begins with a nervous voice, "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm going back to bed now."
Fox pushes himself off the wall and walks towards the refresher door to leave, but it slides shut before he can exit. He stares at the closed door and takes another deep breath, then releases it slowly. He slides his hands over his holsters, but the blasters are missing. They must have fallen out while he was sleeping and he didn't notice. He kicks himself for being so absentminded to leave them on the couch, but in his defense there aren't many who'd attack him in his own office.
Fox runs his tongue across his teeth and puffs his chest out before turning around to face whatever it is that's messing with him, but when he does, there's no one else in the refresher besides him. He bites his lip and nods his head. It must be a dream. He's living in a dream and he can't wake up. That has to be the answer. There's no other explanation. Once he wakes up, he's going to find Thorn and make him get rid of all of his liquor, because this isn't worth the trip.
I'm still waiting , the voice says impatiently. Are you gonna answer me or not?
Fox grits his teeth and thinks for a moment. If he answers the voice of the dead, is something bad going to happen to him? It's not like his life could get any worse. He's a dog of the Republic, he's shot and killed a brother, and he's probably the most hated commander in the GAR. There's not much else they can do to him. Fox startles at a sudden realization. The voice of the dead… a dead clone. Voice of the dead… killed. Fox's heartbeat pounds ferociously in his ears.
He takes a few steps towards the sink and peers into the mirror, the same mirror where his reflection didn't look right. He was so groggy when he first came in the refresher that it didn't dawn on him what in the reflection was off, just that it didn't look right. He stares at his reflection, and tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he studies the image, but his eyes grow wide when he realizes that the reflection didn't follow the tilt of his head. He moves in closer.
Boo , the reflection says with a smirk.
"Kriffin' osik!" Fox screams and out of reflex he punches the mirror, cracking it. He heaves in his breaths and pulls his fist back from the mirror, his glove protecting his skin from getting cut by the broken shards.
The reflection sighs and side steps into the part of the mirror that isn't as broken. Really? the reflection asks.
Fox is on the verge of hyperventilating. Fear and adrenaline taking control of every muscle in his body. His reflection is talking to him. It's moving without him. But it's not even him. He can clearly see that now. Fox takes a moment to study the image in the mirror. The armor is white, like a shiny's, their head is shaven, they have a goatee, and an Aurebesh tattoo on their right temple not far from a small linear scar. Fox's jaw drops. It's him. It's the clone he shot and killed.
Figure it out yet? the reflection asks, almost bored.
"You're…" Fox tries to speak, but he's still unsure of what he's actually seeing.
The name's Fives , the reflection says while tapping his Aurebesh tattoo. You should remember, since you killed me.
Fox is speechless and wide-eyed. He feels sick to his stomach. He knows who Fives is, but he still doesn't remember shooting him. He's never met him, and the only images he has are of him in his ARC armor, not whatever it is he's wearing now. Fox thinks back to the recording that was attached to the report, and remembers seeing himself shoot the white-armored clone. He did find it strange at the time, and it made him wonder why, but not enough to hallucinate about him.
"This isn't real," Fox says as he backs away from the mirror. "You're not real! You're dead !"
The reflection snorts. What? No remorse? No, sorry I killed you?
"I don't remember killing you!" Fox yells, half in shock and half in self-defense. His back touches the hard durasteel wall and he slides down it until he's sitting on the floor.
Don't remember? the reflection asks. You shot me! How could you forget that?
Fox pulls his knees to his chest, clasps his hands over his ears, and squeezes his eyes shut. "Just leave me alone!" he yells again, trying to make the voice go away. "I said I don't remember!"
I'm not leaving , the voice says. Not until you remember what you did to me.
"Go away!" Fox practically screams. "Leave me alone!" His breathing becomes labored and he feels like he's going to pass out. "This is… a nightmare."
Oh, Fox , the reflection chuckles, then pushes out of the mirror and folds its arms to lean on the edge of the sink and stare down at Fox. Your nightmare has just begun.
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The next rotation has Fox feeling insane. The voice inside the mirror isn't just a voice anymore. It's a full body apparition that follows him around wherever he goes. He can't even take a piss without that thing watching him. He still wonders if it's the actual Fives or if it's just a figment of his imagination; maybe the subconscious part of his brain conjured it up because of the guilt he feels for killing the clone. He wants to tell Thorn about it, but even Thorn has limits on disbelief.
Hour after hour, the apparition asks if he remembers killing it yet, and hour after hour, Fox still has the same answer – no. Maker, he wishes it would just take a hike and go haunt someone else, even if it's just for a couple of minutes. There's nothing worse than trying to work or sleep while it watches him from across the room with its dark, cold, dead eyes and smug expression. If this is the real Fives, then he doesn't understand why Rex liked him so much.
Although, today has been strangely quiet. The apparition is nowhere to be seen, or heard, and Fox is taking the much needed alone time to catch up on the reports he's been neglecting since it first appeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination brought on by stress or something along those lines. There's always a logical explanation for everything, or so he thinks. Fox looks up from his data-pad when he hears a soft knock on his office door frame.
"I brought you some caf," Thorn says with a friendly smile. "Can I come in?"
Fox nods.
Thorn walks into the office, places the cup down in front of Fox, and sits on the corner of his desk.
Fox grabs the cup of hot, black caf and deeply inhales its alluring aroma. "Is this a peace offering?"
Thorn snorts. "You should be bringing me a peace offering for all that name calling."
Fox winces at the vague memory, then takes a sip. "Sorry."
"Apology accepted," Thorn says. "You're still a di'kut, though."
"So are you," Fox smirks.
Is he a friend of yours? the apparition asks as it appears next to Fox.
Fox startles and accidentally drops the cup of caf onto his lap. "Kriff!"
Thorn also startles and jumps off the corner of Fox's desk. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," Fox sighs. "Just grab me a towel, will ya?"
Thorn walks off towards the refresher to grab a towel.
He seems like a nice vod , the apparition says as it watches Thorn with interest. Is he your best friend?
Fox chooses to ignore the question and the ghost.
You know , the apparition continues. It hops up on the desk to sit in front of Fox, its legs dangling over the edge. I had a best friend once – actually two. They're both dead, now… Like me. Must be nice to have yours still alive, huh?
Fox glares at the apparition and snarls. "Don't you touch him!"
The apparition chuckles. I'm a ghost, remember? I can't even touch you. The apparition reaches out to touch Fox, but its hand goes straight through him. See? I'm not going to hurt your friend.
Fox continues to glare, not fully trusting what the apparition says. Thorn is his best friend, but this is his issue to deal with, and he's not going to drag Thorn down this insane hole of guilt and self-loathing with him. Even so, it would be great if Thorn could see the apparition too. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crazy about the whole situation. A little validation goes a long way in his mind. He just needs Thorn to see it once, then he can feel safe again, feel normal again.
"Fox?" Thorn asks in concern while handing him the towel. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Fox grabs the towel and pats himself and the chair dry. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Thorn isn't convinced, but doesn't argue.
I'm not fine , the apparition says. I'm dead .
Fox wants to say something in rebuttal, but Thorn's lack of comment about the elephant in the room makes him wonder. He turns his head to the apparition and then to Thorn, and then back again. "You don't see it, do you?"
"See what?" Thorn asks, a confused expression on his face.
"Nothing," Fox sighs and tosses the towel onto the desk before slumping back into his chair. "Nevermind."
"Fox," Thorn begins hesitantly. "I think you should see a medic. You've been acting strange lately and I'm worried."
Yeah, Fox , the apparition adds. You should see a medic for that missing memory issue . Maybe they can tell you why you killed me.
"I don't need a medic!" Fox exclaims. Thorn flinches and Fox bites his tongue. "Sorry. I'm just tired is all."
Thorn still isn't convinced, but he sighs and shakes his head. "Alright, I trust your judgment."
I don't , the apparition says. You shot me .
"Thanks," Fox says. His eye twitches. It's hard enough to keep his thoughts straight, but it's even harder when he has two people talking to him at once and only one of them is actually there.
"I'm here if you need me," Thorn says as he places a hand on Fox's shoulder. "Even if you just want to talk."
You can talk to me too , the apparition says.
"I appreciate that," Fox says, trying to give him his best fake smile.
Thorn throws Fox another look of concern, but turns and leaves his office all the same.
Fox immediately turns his attention to the apparition. "Can you just shut up?!"
No , the apparition says. That's the whole point of haunting. I'm supposed to be annoying.
Fox drops his head onto his desk and yells in frustration.
The apparition hops off the desk and kneels so it's face is on Fox's level. Just tell me why you killed me, Fox, it whispers. And I'll go away .
Fox clutches the sides of his head. "I'm trying," he chokes out. "But I can't remember."
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It's been a week and Fox is on the verge of losing himself. He can't sleep. He can't eat. He can't do anything. The reports are piling up and questions are being asked. Thorn continues to check on him, and he appreciates it, but he wishes he'd stay away from him. Every time Thorn comes into his office, the apparition stares at him like he's a piece of meat. Fox knows the apparition can't hurt Thorn, at least, that's what he's been made to believe, but what if he's wrong?
He can't let it get Thorn, too. It can torment him all it wants, actually, it can even kill him if it wants, but he will not let anything happen to Thorn. Thorn is too good for this kind of torturous hell. Thorn hasn't killed any clones. He probably hasn't killed anyone . There's no reason for Thorn to be brought into this. It's him that the apparition wants. Its blood is on his hands, not Thorns. Thorn has nothing to do with any of this and Fox will do anything to protect him.
Hi Fox , the apparition says while leaning against the door frame of the office.
"What do you want?" Fox sneers from where he sits behind his desk.
The truth , the apparition says with a smug grin. You've been keeping it from me.
"Like I've said," Fox says. "I still don't remember."
Not good enough , the apparition says as it pushes itself off the door frame and approaches Fox's desk.
"I won't let you hurt Thorn," Fox says as he stands up.
What are you talking about? the apparition asks.
"Don't play dumb with me!" Fox exclaims. "I know you're going to hurt him to get back at me."
Are you alright, Fox? the apparition taunts. You seem a little off today.
"Get out of my head!" Fox yells as he clutches the sides of his head. "I know what you're doing!"
What's the matter? the apparition taunts. I've never seen you so unhinged before.
"Leave me alone!" Fox yells.
C'mon, Fox, the apparition walks closer. Tell me.
Fox draws one of his blasters and points it towards the ghostly figure. "Get away from me!"
Whoa, there, the apparition says, putting its hands up and taking a single step back. There's no need for that.
Fox breathes heavily. "I'm warning you!"
You won't shoot me, the apparition smirks. You have no reason to shoot me. Put the blaster down, Fox.
"I won't let you hurt him!" Fox yells, then fires a single bolt through the same spot as before, on the apparition's chest, through its heart. He watches as the apparition falls to its knees and clutches at its chest. That'll stop it. That'll shut it up. That'll make it leave him alone. That'll keep it from hurting– Thorn?
Fox pants with exasperation as his senses begin to clear. The vision of the apparition slowly dissipates, leaving behind the image of Thorn grasping at the hole in his chest. A look of pain, shock, horror, and confusion painted on his face as he looks at Fox. No. No, this can't be happening. He didn't. He couldn't. Did he shoot his best friend? It was the ghost. The ghost was right there. It was talking to him. It was taunting him. It was going to hurt Thorn.
"Fox," Thorn gasps. "Why?"
At the sound of Thorn's voice, the gravity of what Fox has done hits him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widen and his voice quivers. "Thorn."
Thorn collapses forward onto the floor and Fox rushes to his side.
"No, no, no, no," Fox rambles as he pulls his brother into his lap and applies pressure to the wound. "I need a medic!" he yells. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know it was you. There was a ghost and it was in my head and I couldn't remember." Tears begin to well in Fox's eyes as he tries desperately to explain.
Thorn reaches up a hand to touch Fox's cheek and Fox grabs it with his own.
"I'm… sorry," Thorn says weakly. "I… wish… I… could've… helped… you…" Thorn's hand drops as his body goes limp and he breathes his last breath.
"Where's my medic!" Fox yells, tears now streaming down his face unabated. "Hang on, vod." He pulls his brother's lifeless body close to his chest and rocks him back and forth. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me."
The apparition appears once again, crouches down in front of Fox, and looks apathetically at Thorn's lifeless body. It shakes its head. And to think all of this could've been avoided if you would've just told me what I wanted to know.
Fox looks at the apparition with murderous intent.
A vod for a vod , the apparition says with a smirk. At least you'll remember this one.
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oozeandgoo-art · 2 months
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You guys ever heard of Fandom Trumps Hate? It's a charity auction where people trade fannish services for money that goes to, obviously, charity.
I signed up this year. You can find my page here: I'm doing a half-price commission ($15/hour instead of current $30/hour rates). This looks like it's going to be the only commission I'm even going to consider touching this year, for the record, if that sweetens the deal any.
The entire auction is a really cool thing, and you should definitely look around to see if there's anything special on there to catch your eye. It's for a good cause and everything!
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hellfire--cult · 8 months
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Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.
Movie Night
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I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.
wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)
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Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.
You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about. 
But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.
So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.
When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.
And that sets your fate.
Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine. 
It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.
You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.
Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again. 
You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.
And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.
You’re fine. 
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“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.” 
“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.
“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this. 
“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside. 
You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility. 
Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.
Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.
After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.
He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.
He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.
“I’m sorry.”
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Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside? 
You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.
Billy Hargrove.
Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.
“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?
“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”
“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.
“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.
“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.
“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.” 
“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.
“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. 
“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.” 
Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed. 
It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.
“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.
“Why were you crying?” 
“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.
“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.
“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.
“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”
He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.
“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.
“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.
“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.
“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.
“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.
“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.
“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.
“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.
“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.
You didn’t need more reminders.
So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.
Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.
You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.
“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.
“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.
“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house. 
“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.
“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.
“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”
A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.
Yet–
“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?” 
“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.
“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.
“You’re in for a ride.”
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Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.
“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you. 
“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.
“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.
“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.
So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.
“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?” 
“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.
News flash, you didn’t like it.
“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.
“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”
You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness. 
“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.
“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.” 
“What?”
“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.
“Billy–”
“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.” 
You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest. 
“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.
“Can I kiss you?” 
What?
There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you. 
“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.
“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.
“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.
“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.” 
You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.
His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?
The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him. 
He wants to take care of you.
He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.
“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.” 
He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.
The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 
You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself. 
Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.
The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–
“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.
“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.
“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.
“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.
“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.
“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!” 
“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.
“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.
“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.
“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.
“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.
“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.
“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”
“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.
“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.
“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.
“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body. 
“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.
He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party. 
This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’
He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day. 
He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can. 
So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you. 
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Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.
But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.
“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.
“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left. 
While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense. 
You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real. 
So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.
His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.
“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.
“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs. 
“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.
“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.
“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.
“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.
“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.
“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.
“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat. 
“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.” 
Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.
“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.
“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.
“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another. 
“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.
“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.
“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.
“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.
“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.
“My turn.”
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A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.
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just-jordie-things · 6 months
Text
kiss cam surprise - gojo satoru
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word count: 2.8k warnings: none! :) summary: when (y/n) kisses shoko during a kiss cam at a baseball game, satoru gets a little ~jealous~ this is half fluff half crack tbh lol a/n: ok i don't take fic requests but someone dropped this in my ask box awhile ago and it resurfaced in my mind so... ur a lucky duck. also! if u like kiss cam fics y'all should check out kiss cam! by @naosaki <3 one of my fav megumi fics <3 ___
For being at an event that they couldn’t care less about, Shoko and (y/n) had been on their best behavior for the entirety of the baseball game.  Satoru and Suguru had been so excited to gift the tickets to the girls so they could join them in a fun outing, that they’d tried their best to accept the offer graciously.
Even though neither of them had any interest in going.  It was obvious when the tickets were presented to them, from the awkward smiles they’d worn to the way their eyes shifted towards one another as if to make sure the other was thinking the same thing- why wouldn’t they just go on their own? 
Shoko and (y/n) would’ve happily spent the day doing their own thing had Satoru and Suguru gone to the game just the two of them.  Maybe some light shopping, or maybe they’d hole up in one of their rooms and eat junk and watch romcoms all day.  Either way… any activity would have been more entertaining to them than this.
They barely even knew the rules of the game, only cheering when the guys did, and sharing knowing looks when they tried not to laugh at just how uninterested they were.
Still, they did their best to participate.  Both glad in the same colors of the cheap merch Satoru and Suguru had treated them to.  (y/n) was in a jersey too big for her that hung off her body awkwardly, and Shoko wore a hat with a bill that wouldn’t stop dipping over her eyes, but they didn’t complain.  They were very good sports for their friends, only sneaking off for a smoke break one time.  They even made a few trips for snacks and drinks so that Suguru and Satoru wouldn’t miss any of the games.  Sure, maybe they were trying to stretch their legs and ease the ache in their butts from the uncomfortable plastic seats, but they had the right intentions!
“This is fun, right?” 
When (y/n) turned to him, Satoru was beaming from ear to ear.  His sunglasses were slipping down his nose due to the way his ball cap bumped into them, and his bright eyes seemed to hold even more light from his obvious joy.
She couldn’t lie to him if she wanted to.  It was too cute to see him this excited just from sharing the experience with his friends.  He’d had his arm draped over the back of her seat for the majority of the game, and whenever his team got the upper hand, he’d eagerly tap or shake at her shoulder to involve her in the hype.  (y/n) was grateful for the que to pay closer attention to what was happening, but she did fluster and blush every time he’d touch her.
This didn’t go unnoticed by Shoko, who would knowingly knock her elbow from her other side, a small smirk on her face when (y/n) would peek at her from the corner of her eye.  She tried to ignore the silent teasing, but after a while it got hard with how much it was happening.
With a smile and a nod of her head, Satoru’s expression lit up even more.  “Yeah, I’m actually having a really great time,” She said.  It didn’t matter that she was more interested in all the attention he’d been giving her than the great seats they had for the game.  He didn’t need to know that part.  “We should do this more often” She adds before thinking.
Once again, Shoko’s elbow was bumping into hers, and this time a less-than-discreet snort could be heard.  (y/n) sent her elbow back into hers in retaliation, silently scolding her for eavesdropping.
“Yeah?” Satoru fixes his cap so that he can push his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose.  “Tickets weren’t that expensive, we could go to more games this season, if you want?” He suggests.
Bullshit, she thinks with a smile telling him that’s exactly what she was thinking.  Nothing was expensive to the Gojo Satoru.
“Yeah, maybe” She says without much commitment.
Going to baseball games just the two of them? The idea had her heart soaring.  Having to sit through a game that could take more than three hours was less than ideal.
Soon enough a break in the game came, the announcers hyping up the crowd with some silly chants and trivia on the big screen.  (y/n) found herself slumping down into her seat, aimlessly tapping around on her phone to pass the time.  She hadn’t been paying enough attention to notice the change in game on the big screen, that is until there was a hand smacking at her shoulder again.
Looking up, she’d almost expected to see the game in motion again.  Satoru had only been tapping at her like that when an exciting play was in action.  However this time, he’s pointing up at the screen.
She gapes when she sees that she’s displayed on the screen.  The camera has a wide angle that includes Shoko and Satoru on either side of her, the words Kiss Cam spelled out in pink cursive above them.  It’s complete with lipstick stains and sparkles for dramatic touch.
“Oh my god” She mumbles, hoping that her blush is undetectable by the camera, seeing as her face felt scorching hot from embarrassment.
The longer the camera is focused on her, the rowdier the crowd around her becomes.  Eagerly chanting ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ like a bunch of teenagers at their first house party.
Satoru is grinning so hard his face hurts.  This was like a dream come true.  The easiest excuse in all of history to get a kiss from the girl he’s had a crush on since he was fifteen was just presented to him on a silver platter- and the crowd’s cheering only spurred him on further.
Even Suguru is giving him a smirk and a nod of approval.  He’d heard more earfuls than most about the ins and outs of Satoru’s feelings for (y/n).  Although on occasion, Shoko or Nanami were on the receiving end of his lovesick rambling.
His heart is about to burst out of his chest when he turns to (y/n).  His smile is starting to hurt and for a second he realizes he’s going to have to relax to actually kiss her.
“Are you okay with-?” 
The question barely comes out before he’s cut short.
(y/n) had already turned away from him, swiveled in her seat to face Shoko.  It’s like he’s watching it happen in slow motion.
They both giggle at their idea, and (y/n) takes off Shoko’s hat while she’s quickly tucking her hair behind her ears to clear her face.  And then time goes back to normal and all too quickly, Satoru watches as they lean towards each other to share a kiss.
It’s just a peck, so swift and chaste it’s over as soon as it happens.  The crowd hollers and then are just as quickly getting excited over the next unsuspecting pair on camera.
(y/n) and Shoko laugh a bit more before sitting back in their seats, going back to their phones and striking up conversation about some anime they’d been interested in.  Both, or at least (y/n), completely oblivious to the offended gape on Satoru’s face.
That was totally his kiss, after all! It was his perfect moment to finally take things to the next level with his long time friend that he’d harbored a crush on.
To make matters worse, Shoko wasn’t as innocent as she was pretending to be, sending a smirk his way when (y/n) was too focused on her phone.  He scowled back at her.  She knew about his crush! She knew he was going to go for that kiss!
With a huff, he stood up from his seat and made his way out of the stands.  He needed a bottle of water, or a snack, or just some damn space away from his so-called friend that was teasing him for snatching his kiss.
Satoru leaving so suddenly finally perked (y/n’s) attention.  He was gone too fast for her to call after him, but she worriedly watched him scale the steps with ease as he headed towards the hall of vendors.  She locked eyes with Satoru, raising a brow in silent question.
“He’s just being pouty,” Suguru replied casually, shrugging his shoulders before turning back towards the field.  “You wanna go after him? Be my guest” 
(y/n) sighed, turning the other direction towards Shoko.
“What’s he so pressed about?” She mutters.  “What even happened?” 
Shoko rolls her eyes, a lazy grin stretching on her lips.
“I dunno,” She says in a teasingly melodic tone of voice, suggesting she knew exactly what set their friend off.  “Maybe pluck up some courage and go ask him?” 
With another sigh of defeat, (y/n) slumped back into her seat, her thumbnail wedged between her teeth as she mulled over the idea.  A nervous flutter settled in her chest, a persistent buzz of confusion and anxiety distracting her even more so from the game starting up again.
When she suddenly shot out of her seat, muttering some excuse about needing to stretch her legs before she raced up the stairs in the direction she’d seen Satoru head off towards.
Two sets of eyes watched her as she hurried off.  Suguru and Shoko locked eyes once she was out of sight, both of them snickering between themselves.  It didn’t exactly take an active imagination to know exactly what was coming next. 
To her surprise, (y/n) found Satoru as soon as she left the stands.  Moping around the upper part of the arena with a half-empty bag of cotton candy.  She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, effectively getting herself caught by him.
“Why’re you up here eating your feelings?” (y/n) speaks first, eyes narrowed inquisitively.  Satoru scoffs as she approaches him, snatching a piece of the pink sweet right out of his hands.
“I’m not eating my feelings” He replies unconvincingly, digging the hole deeper as he shoves a rather large piece of cotton candy into his mouth.
(y/n) rolls her eyes, but the smile on her face is impossible to hide.
“Sure,” She remarks.  “You’re totally not pouting right now.  C’mon just fess up.  What’s wrong?”
“I’m not pouting.  My friend betrayed me, I think I’m right in being upset about that?” It’s a rhetorical question, followed by another shove of cotton candy into his mouth.
(y/n) frowns.
“Betrayed you?” She repeats.  “Did I miss something? Who betrayed you?” 
Satoru groaned, tossing the remainder of his cotton candy into the trash dramatically.  (y/n) had to resist the urge to laugh, not understanding where this whole little tantrum came from.
“Shoko! Obviously! I mean she knew that that kiss was-!” 
He stops mid sentence, realizing where this outburst was going to lead him if he didn’t relax and go back to his usual suave demeanor.  (y/n) shook her head in confusion, her brows pinching together.
“Was what?” She asked, a breathless laugh escaping her.  “Meaningless? A joke between friends?” She suggested.  “You’re mad about a kiss?” 
“Of course I’m mad-! Well, I- I guess not mad, I’m not mad at her,” He stammered over his words, not knowing how exactly to explain the complicated feelings.
(y/n) tried to be patient while he stammered and struggled to make himself clear.  Mostly because she was partially amused by the whole thing.  Satoru prided himself in being what he called a smooth-talker, and while normally she’d laugh at him for that, it was a shock to see him behave the total opposite right in front of her.
“But that wasn’t exactly fair, I mean, she was just trying to rile me up.  And- like- yeah, that’s what we usually do, we pick on each other but that just- that just wasn’t fair! That was my kiss and she knew it! And she just-” 
“What do you mean ‘your kiss’?” 
Finally Satoru had been rendered speechless, his mouth still hanging open mid rant, jaw slacking a bit as he realized he’d gotten carried away.  (y/n’s) expression almost mirrors his, her eyes wide and lips parted, even as she holds her breath and waits for him to clarify.
But he’s completely frozen in front of her.
“Satoru,” She waves her hand in front of his face, trying to bring him back to reality.  “What did you mean ‘your kiss’?” She repeats, shaking her head at him.
“I- I just… I meant that-” 
Words are spilling out of his mouth without direction, without knowing what the hell the right thing to say was.  He’d known (y/n) for two years now, and in all of that time he’d been pretty proud of the persona he’d built up to be sure that he was always the cool one, the guy she could rely on to be smooth and popular.  He felt pathetic now, letting his own secrets slip and stuttering over himself like an idiot.
The corners of (y/n’s) lips twitched into a smile the longer he flustered over who-knows-what.  It catches his attention when she unintentionally lets out a little laugh.
“Sorry,” She apologizes right away.  “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you.  I just… are you trying to say that you wanted me to kiss you? For the cam game?” 
She tries not to sound so hopeful that it comes across desperate, but the mere idea that Satoru had wanted a kiss from her had her chest thrumming with butterflies.
Satoru’s throat feels dry, and suddenly her gaze feels like a spotlight.  The intensity has the hair on the back of his neck standing up.  He pulls the hat off his head to run a hand through his hair to relieve the heat.
“Well… yeah,” He admits, sounding more bashful than she ever would have thought he was capable of.  Her small smile turned a little brighter, and he tried to get his voice back.  “Not that I need a silly game to kiss you, obviously-” 
“Obviously” She repeats the word fondly, giving him a small nod.
“But- s-still, the kiss cam, would’ve been… fun” He admits sheepishly.  She giggles, nodding her head again.
“Well, it was fun, for the record,” She teases, earning a roll of his eyes from behind his shades.  She steps closer to him then, a tilt in her head as she takes in the obvious nerves written on his face.  “But if you wanted to kiss me, you could’ve just asked” 
“I was going to,” He argued, his hands moving about erratically.  “It's not my fault Shoko beat me to it!” 
She giggled at his drama, reaching out and grabbing his hands as they flew around, still laughing as he froze up again from the sudden touch.
“You know, it didn’t exactly mean anything when Shoko did it,” She suggested.  “I know there’s not any cameras… but…” 
Satoru raised a brow.
“(y/l/n) (y/n),” He gasped dramatically, “Are you asking me to kiss you?” 
Her cheeks tint pink as she bites back her smile, giving him a small nod of her head.  He smiles back at her, pulling his hands out of hers and dropping his hat so he could lay them across her jaw, tilting her head upwards so he didn’t have to lean down as far to reach her.  
She doesn’t wait a second longer for him, closing her eyes and leaning up on the tips of her toes so she could press her lips against his.  Satoru’s quick to reciprocate, his fingers flexing against her skin, holding on as tight as he can without hurting her as he deepens the kiss right away.  She has to grab him by the shoulders to keep herself balanced.
His lips are soft, and taste sugary like the cotton candy he’d been eating.  She’d always thought he’d taste a little bit like sugar, what with how much of it he consumes.  It makes her smile to know first hand.
When they break the kiss, he steals one more quick peck from her, grinning with excitement before he pulls away so he can pick up his forgotten hat from the ground.
“Feel better now?” She teases as he slings his arm around her shoulder to head back towards their seats.
“Mhm,” He hums, pulling his cap over her head and smiling as it slips down her forehead.  He pokes it upwards with his index finger, then pokes the tip of her nose.  “But next game I bring you to, I get the kiss cam kiss, alright?” 
There’s a gleam in her eye and a blush on her face as she leans into him, matching his steps as they head down the stairs to their seats.  As shameless as ever, she can’t help but tease him.
“Then sit on my left next time” ___
xoxo ~ jordie
3K notes · View notes
abbyromanoff · 7 months
Note
hello! can you write dom g!p student natasha x sub fem teacher reader?
DELICATE
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PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader
WORD COUNT: 3356
WARNINGS: smut, professor x student, cheating, mentions of Wanda x R, dark fic, mommy (N), degrading, praising, dubcon, recording, nat has a dick, breeding, mentions of belly bulges, mentions of guns and killing, veryyyy dark!Nat, somnophillia, Nat kinda babying R, threatening, think that’s all :)
Kinktober masterlist!!
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
Your pen collided with the paper stacked upon others, a black line of ink following your every thread. Your lip was held by your teeth tightly while the computer's blazing glow shined through the dark room, being the only source of light as you found yourself too tired to reach out to the lamp across the room.
It was past midnight and you were well over your scheduled time but you had to grade these papers, the students were depending on them and you were lacking this month. You promised beforehand that they’d all see their results in a week or two but it passed that limit, and no matter how many times you apologized you still felt a nagging guilt when you were reminded of how aggravating it was for you to hear such things from your professors.
A sudden vibrate came from your phone and, even if you were in a deep focus, you were able to tear your eyes away for a fleeting moment to read the text coming from none other than Wanda, one of your students. The two of you shared a more intimate relationship than normal, but neither of you could stop yourselves. She was so beautiful and so intelligent, she always strived to receive the highest performance and often times found herself staying with you to complete work. Even in the silence, there was a sense of comfort and you wanted nothing more than to see how far this feeling could go, but she was your student and you were her professor, you thought there was nothing you could do.
That was until her lips landed on yours one afternoon when everyone had disappeared, leaving the two of you alone with no one to stop either of you. That night she went home with you, bringing you to multiple orgasms before you woke up next to her, lucky enough to realize it was a Saturday and you didn’t need to come into work. You left after a shared breakfast and peck to the lips that lasted longer than it should’ve. And then, your relationship started to blossom as you shared contacts and met up on occasion, careful enough to make sure no one could recognize the two of you.
Wands <3: Hello, my love! I hope work is going well and you’re not stressing yourself out too much. I just wanted to say goodnight since I finally finished my essay for Professor Rodgers, I was also thinking maybe we could see each other sometime this weekend. You know, to get our minds off the stress of papers and essays and assignments, all that boring stuff. Anyways, goodnight, and I hope you get home safely, I’ll hopefully see you soon!
The well-written paragraph almost seemed to release the tension that had been brewing inside of you, instead replacing it with a warm fuzzy sensation that had you blushing a deep red. You started to type out a well-thought-out response until you heard a small creaking. You assumed it was just due to the old pipes that you sent multiple requests in to be fixed and shrugged it off. That was until it continued.
“Hello? Anyone there?” You set your phone down and stood up, the laptop light now dimming the longer it was left unattended. It stopped for a moment and you started to believe it was all in your head, that was until you heard a loud, booming sound playing through what you guessed was a speaker. The projector suddenly lit up and was embraced with a video of you and Wanda on a coffee date at the cafe two blocks down, you gulped fearfully. You looked all around you, your heartbeat suddenly increasing its pace when you found nothing but a looming shadow in the corner.
“Who the fuck are you?” The video continued to play and that’s when you heard a deep moan, one that sounded all too familiar. You whipped your head around only to see a recording of Wanda going down on you while your hand laced through her hair, the other resting on your breasts as you helped her bring you to an orgasm.
“What the fuck?” Came your small whisper, confusion settling in and overpowering the fear you held.
“Mm, I remember that day very well.” Hands suddenly found themselves placed on your shoulders, making you jump at the contact before a chuckle left the unknown figure.
“Don’t be scared, love, I don’t bite. Well, unless you wanted me to, and after seeing that video I’m starting to think you’d very much enjoy that.” A lingering touch was planted on your hip as they turned you to face them, your eyes widening as you met the redhead’s green eyes in return.
“Hey, Professor.” You were suddenly very aware of the limited distance shared between you two and tried backing up discreetly, only to hear a clicking on her tongue in return.
“What do you want from me? How did you get those videos?” You asked timidly, feeling yourself now very much exposed with your opened buttons adorning your blouse. You noticed her staring at your chest as well, eyeing the black lace that made its way to the surface ever-so-swiftly.
“So many questions and so little of answers to give, what a shame.” She gave you a faux pout before biting her lip hungrily, palms rubbing at your sides softly as she seemed to be soaking in your curves.
“I’ve known about your relationship with Wanda for quite some time now and, my-oh-my, am I disappointed in you.” She stated, and without knowing why, you let your head fall in shame. “Don’t hide on me now, love, you seemed so confident when you were moaning her name, why so shy all of the sudden, hm?” You felt tears starting to form and sniffled, resulting in a mocking tone from the younger woman.
“Awh, don’t cry, you should know I don’t like cry babies.” She wrapped her arms tightly around your figure and brought you even closer to her body which radiated a strong perfume she wore. You couldn’t stop your head from leaning onto her chest as she ran her fingers through your soft locks that appeared messy from your state.
“You’ve been working so hard, haven’t you? Such a dumb baby, stressing yourself out so much, why don’t you have yourself a little break, yeah?” You nodded, a small sense of comfort forming in your brain at her words. She led you to where you sat at your desk and had you relax in her lap, kissing the top of your forehead while shushing your cries softly.
“Don’t be scared, baby, Mommy just wants to spend some time with her sweet angel.” A part of you wanted to scream and interrogate her on how she found such private moments of you, but the other part of you wanted to stay in her strong yet soft arms. You didn’t know if it was the tiredness or the overwhelming stress you found yourself sinking further into her hold.
“I think I know what could get you feeling so much better.” You felt the pads of her fingertips teasing your inner thighs through the tight pants you wore. Suddenly being very aware of the situation you were in, you started to whine, trying to form words but feeling too tired to speak.
“Shh, trust Mommy, okay? You’ve been working so, so hard lately, you deserve some of Mommy’s love, don’t you think?” She was your student, always hidden in the back as her eyes strayed towards you instead of your writing and words, this was wrong. Although, you couldn’t quite say that when knowing you did the same with another redhead. Shit. Wanda.
“N-no, we can’t, Nat-” You tried regaining your composure but your words seemed to come out bubbly and drawn out, your mind becoming too foggy as you were in desperate need of sleep.
“It’s Mommy to you, Professor. C’mon, you can’t tell me you don’t want this, you’ve practically been begging me to fuck you all year.” She remembered vividly whenever you’d bend over to direct a student in front of her, your ass being displayed generously to her eyes. Or whenever you’d help her even if she lied when saying she needed it, and the pet names that rolled off your tongue sent her in a spiral, she even convinced herself it meant more than you intended it to. She was so delusional, thinking that everything you did was purposeful and that you only saw Wanda as a way to replace your love for Natasha, even though that was far from the truth.
“You don’t know how badly I despise that asshole for taking you away from me, but it’s okay now, we’ll be together soon enough, I promise.” You shook your head but she held it firmly in her palm, bringing you as close as possible to her chest while forcing the quietness in you.
“I dreamt of the day you’d finally admit your love for me and let me show you how badly I want you, but then she got in the way and ruined everything. Not to worry though, I know you’ll end things with her before I end her myself.” She grinned as you tensed in her hold, only to stroke your cheek softly while her eyes deemed into yours. She could feel herself growing impossibly harder the more she held back, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to for much longer.
“You need to get some sleep, little one. You’ve been working such long hours, such a hard little worker you are. C’mon, get some rest and Mommy will take care of you.” You denied it again and again, knowing you were going to lose as your eyes started to close on you. They felt heavy, unbelievably heavy, at that.
“You know you’re not going to win this one. Just give in, Mommy would never hurt her precious baby.” Your mind was turning foggy with the way she spoke so gently along with the way she held you as if she never wanted to let go, you knew you were a goner.
“That’s it, don’t worry, just rest now, love.” She smiled to herself when seeing your eyes fully close, no matter how much she loved them she’d rather see them closed over while she fucked you into unconsciousness.
She set your body on the wooden desk after clearing the stacks of papers and ruined pens. Her hands came to spread your thighs instantly, growing more and more desperate the longer she waited. Her cock was practically drooling at the sight of you as she reached beneath the barrier of her pants and boxers to cup herself, shuddering in pleasure as she welcomed the bliss that followed.
“Such a perfect slut, already so compliant for Mommy.” Your belt was thrown as she pulled down your pants until she was greeted with the wet patch forming on your panties. You looked so adorable like this, she just had to keep it in her memories forever.
Grabbing her phone she took a few quick images that she knew she’d spend hours jerking off to the rest of the semester. That’s when a thought came to her. Setting up her phone against your laptop she pressed the red record button and smiled at the thought, turning back to you where she continued to remove the little amount of clothing you had on. Joining the pile of fabrics were your blouse and soon after your bralette that she spent an extra moment admiring.
She quickly did the same to herself as she stood stark-naked in front of you, your body only being covered by the little undergarment left.
“Look at how precious my angel is, so fucking perfect.” She grasped the phone in her hand as she directed the camera towards you, letting the lack of audience watch as she stroked her length over your covered cunt.
“This has been a fantasy of mine for some time now, sweetheart. Mommy’s so happy you’ve been so obedient, I knew you would.” She found herself coming to a quick release as spurts of her cum splashed your body before she aimed toward your breasts, moaning lowly as she painted your perky nipples white.
She set the electronic back down before leaning in and pressing a kiss against your dry lips, frowning as you shuffled slightly in your sleep. Her cock was aching to be inside of you by now, a throbbing redness appearing on her tip as she teased herself against your clit. That only seemed to edge her further until she finally let herself break and prodded at your hole, using your wetness as a form of lube. She was shocked to see you nearly dripping even when you tried to deny ever wanting this, ‘such a dumb whore’, she thought.
“Oh, yes, you feel so fucking amazing! Even better than I knew you would be.” She moaned dryly and thrusted her hips slightly, feeling yourself take her deeper and deeper until her pelvis bone was pressing into yours.
It was like you were made for her as you wrapped around her perfectly, and in her mind, you two were meant to be. She tried to erase the thought of Wanda from her mind, of the lude acts you two shared when you thought no one knew, but it only angered her further.
She knew you loved her, that’s what she convinced herself of at least. All the touches, the whispered words, they were meant for her and for a reason. Wanda did nothing to deserve your love, but Nat had been watching over you and keeping you from harm, only you never knew. And if you did, you’d most likely freak, but she didn’t want you to be scared, especially not of her.
“I’ll kill that bitch if she ever comes near you again, I fucking promise, baby.” The way you were sucking her in, your walls trapping her in place, this was all the proof she needed. There was no doubt in her mind that you’d spend the rest of your life with her. After all, she got whatever it was that she wanted.
“Oh, look who’s waking up.” Your eyes fluttered open as a whimper tumbled from your lips instantly. She smiled in your direction before grasping your chin in her fingertips, turning your head to face the camera still pointing towards the two of you.
“You look so cute, can’t wait to fill that pretty mouth with my cock.” You were slowly coming to your senses when you felt your back scratching against the desk as her hips continued to slap against yours, creating a loud clapping that echoed across the large room.
“Nat- ah!” You wanted to tell her to stop, that you’d report her for such horrid acts, but you couldn’t. The fact that it was so wrong made it feel even better, that seemed to be an occasional occurrence with you.
“Tell me you want me to stop, tell Mommy you don’t want it.” She was aching to hear it, to hear you beg her for less, knowing you wanted more.
“Please- please stop! I can’t take it!” She covered your mouth with her hand when your pleads came out, shushing you with that soft yet raspy voice of hers.
“Shh, don’t want anyone to hear ‘ya now. How do you think they’d react seeing a professor getting used by their student like a pathetic slut?” Your breath was coming to a regular, your heart finally returning to a normal beat as you accepted your fate. But something about the way her cock teased that spot deep inside of you that had you squirming made it all the better.
“You want Mommy to play with your clit? Yeah? Awh, all you have to do is ask, sweetie.” She spoke when your hand came to rub your swollen bud in a hurry, moan after moan leaving your mouth in response. She slapped your palm away and replaced it with her own, using her thumb to rub harshly and she smirked when hearing your juices spraying against her fingers.
“Oh my, baby, look at that!” Your mouth went slack as you squirted on her length, basking in the sweet pleasure she brought you.
“M-mommy! Mommy- please-“ She chuckled dryly at your babbled words.
“Yeah? You need something? Or are you too dumbed down to speak?” You bit your lip, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“My brainless little doll, you like it when Mommy fucks that nice spot?” Your nods were rapid even if you had barely any knowledge of what she said.
“I’m gonna cum in this dirty little cunt, and you’re gonna take all of it like a good girl, alright?” There was no time to agree as you felt a warm liquid starting to fill you up, your walls being painted white while she pressed down on your stomach lightly, smirking when she felt a small bulge.
“God, you’re gonna be the best Mommy ever, you’ll look so fucking sexy all round and full. It’ll be a constant reminder of how you let your student use you like a worn-out whore.” The video ended and Wanda stared at her phone with tears ready to spill. Nat had sent her a file to which she thought would be notes from class, she never really liked the redhead but she was able to get used to her annoying antics. But now, she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to step foot in that class or look at you the same. She knew you were asleep during the first half, but you accepted her request in the end. Would she forgive you? How would she ever be able to go on another date knowing her classmate was fucking you not too long ago.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door and, while being hesitant to open it, Wanda eventually gave in but what greeted her was not you ready to meet up like she asked. No, it was someone else. Someone who held a loaded gun in her hand.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d kill you if you ever look at them again.” The woman stated, laughing at the fear in the girl's eyes.
“So, I’ll give you some hope. You remove all contact you have with Y/N right now, then you pack up your bags and leave in less than twenty-four hours, got that?” When she nodded, Nat continued. “Then, you’re going to go as far as you can, somewhere that I’ll never have to see you again or I might just have to shoot your little brains out, Wands.” She twirled the gun in her hand as if it was a joke, a silly old laugh between two friends, but it was anything but.
“Well, I would say I hope to see you around but I guess you’ll be leaving now.” She gave an exaggerated pout and stuck her foot in the door when Wanda tried to close it in a hurry.
“If I come back here tomorrow and I see you’re still here, you won’t be the only blood splattered on the wall.” She whispered, thankful no one was nearby to hear her threatening words.
“Well, bye now!” She left with a smile planted on her face, knowing there was no chance of you and Wanda anymore. You were hers entirely, every part of you belonged to her and it would continue to stay that way.
Wanda closed her door with widened eyes, turning to face the body lying on her bed who seemed to have just woken from a nap.
“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, walking towards her as she refused to even look at you.
“I- uhm, I need to go.” She left before you could say a word, leaving the two of you with pieces of your heart damaged while Nat’s was perfectly healed, all while she was the one holding you at night.
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2K notes · View notes
luveline · 3 months
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Hi jade if you’re doing requests I’d love to see how prince Steve and his soulmate are doing after the wedding
prince!steve soulmate au —you’re sick from stress and Steve's adoring as always. fem, 1k
“Hello.” 
You nod dazedly from your bed. “Hello, husband.” 
Steve leans on the door, a bouquet against his chest. “Are you feeling any better? At all?” 
“Yeah.” You’re lying, but it doesn’t matter —your hoarse voice betrays you. You sound as sick as you had yesterday and the day before. It is putting a real dampener on the honeymoon. 
He puts his bouquet down on the dresser, the big white petals of its lilies drooping past the cellophane to kiss the drawers. You focus too much on that detail and startle when he sits on the bed. 
“You had everything you needed while I was gone?” he asks, hair falling into his eyes. 
You raise your hand, smiling softly as he leans forward, allowing you to fix it out of his eyes. He’s terrifying this close to you, absurdly pretty, absurdly yours, a golden ring on his finger and a furling white light turning pink braceleting his wrist. He’s very much the prince he was when you met, but now he is your prince, and that’s a strange thing to come to grips with, worse when you’re so achingly sick. 
“Hey?” he prompts. “You have everything?” 
“The serfs won’t leave me alone,” you complain worriedly. It hasn’t been nice to have them coming in and out all day. “I try to sleep and they wake me up coming inside. Sorry, I’m not– I’m complaining, I’m–” You rub your headache. “I should be grateful–”
“You’re allowed to complain about that!” he says, grinning. “God, I want you to! I’ll tell them to stop coming in, I just thought you’d probably die in your sleep while I was gone.” 
You lean back into your pillows with a wince. “You sure?” 
“Am I sure?” He holds your arm with both of his hands. “I’ve just sent the maids in to harass you for six hours when you’re sick as a dog and you’re asking if you’re allowed to be mad.” He rubs your arm with his thumbs. “I’m sorry. Do you want to sleep now? I won’t let anybody come in.” 
“No, um,” —you clear your throat— “I did– I missed you. I want you to tell me about the meeting.” 
“Yeah?” he asks softly. 
You have the feeling you’re being doted on. “Did Robin go?” 
“Let me just set us up and I’ll tell you. Okay?” 
You nod your agreement. Steve kisses the back of your hand absentmindedly and stands.
He shuts the curtains to hide the sunshine, clears away the jargon of the holoscreen against the wall, and closes the door. The room is big and the mess you’ve made since you fell ill the night of your wedding is expansive, taking ages to clean. By the time he’s done all this, you’re dozing again with the blanket pulled up to your nose. 
“Sweetheart,” he says, climbing into bed beside you. A kiss is placed on the edge of your eyelid. “You can sleep. We’ll talk about things when you’re feeling better.” 
“No, please tell me about today,” you croak. 
“Nothing really happened,” he says, up on one elbow, looking down at you lovingly. “They asked me when we’d begin our tour now we’re married.” His voice grows softer as he leans down, eyes on your lips. “I’ve asked for it to be pushed back. So they’ll wait until we’re ready.” 
“Mm. And news from the west?” 
“None.” He holds your face. “Sorry, you’re distractingly pretty today.” 
“Stop it.” 
“You are,” he says. He sounds playfully smug, or maybe he’s not playing at all. His tone is wry all the same, that slight fry that might make you pop a knee if you weren’t already wed. “I’m sorry you got so sick. I knew the wedding was going to be too much for you. I should’ve looked after you better.” 
“You didn’t make me sick.” 
“But the stress made it worse. I know it did.” 
“You shouldn’t believe everything the head doctor says. She made you eat dandelions for depression.” 
“I know, I was there,” he says, smiling down at you, eyes like dark dimes. “But she also recommended more fencing, and that did make me feel better.” 
You turn your face to the side and curl a tentative arm around him. “Can I have a hug?” you ask, and then, when he’s given you an enthusiastic yes and pulled you onto his chest, “I can nearly forget I’m sick.” 
“I can’t. You sound full of it, sweetheart.” Sweetheart said soft and quiet as a secret. Like he’s sorry and adoring at once. 
“It’s in my face.” 
“We’ll go to the sauna together later and clear you out.” 
Together? In your skivvies? If the sickness doesn’t kill you, the sauna with Steve alone certainly will. “I can’t tell if you’re being mean to me on purpose.” 
“Why would I do that? I like you. An embarrassing amount, I–” He clears his throat. 
You’re not sure what he would have said, but you like him too; you dive in to save him. “You’re like that, Steven, you mess with me.” 
“No, don’t start the Steven stuff again, I like it much more when you call me Steve. Remember when we first met, you’d only call me your prince? And you definitely wouldn’t have let me hold you.” 
“Don’t say it like that,” you plead through a nervous laugh. 
“Am I saying something wrong?”
He’s murmuring, nearly flirting —is it flirting if you’re married?— his arms threaded around you, his hair tickling your cheek as he leans down. “Not wrong…” Your eyes widen as he closes in. 
“Would a kiss make you feel any better?” 
“I’ll make you sick.” 
“Shouldn’t you? I’ve vowed to be with you in anything, haven’t I? In sickness…”
You hold your breath as his fans over your lips. 
“Just one?” he whispers.
“As many as you want,” you whisper back. “Just don’t get mad at me if you’re sick next week, Steve.”
“Never.” 
806 notes · View notes
dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months
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Hi, hope you're alright. I came up with a story idea: the reader is married to Gasly's/Daniel's close friend but their marriage is hanging by a thread. The driver invites her to a few races so she can change the environment, they spend some time together and unexpectedly become lovers. And maybe later her husband is trying to fix their marriage but she and the driver can't stop thinking about each other
His Best Man || DR3
A/N: I took some creative liberties with the plot but I think it does this request justice 💕 ps: never condone cheating, it's horrible and this is purely fictional
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, alcohol, cheating, smut WC: 7.6k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Daniel’s Reaction
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Dinner with James was a quiet affair, though it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Why would your anniversary be any different when his indifference was the only constant at this point?
You watched as he smiled at his phone, something you hadn’t been able to elicit from him in months, before he locked the device and placed it facedown on the table. The sigh that wanted to exhale from your flared nostrils barely remained silent as you focused on shifting the food around your plate, your appetite gone like the connection to your husband. 
“Daniel sent us some passes to the race in Melbourne next month. I thought we could go, make a little holiday out of it?” 
There was no excitement in your tone, it was more a question borne out of politeness because he would have seen the paddock passes sitting on the kitchen side if he ever looked away from his phone. The blasted device vibrated again and his fork clattered on his plate in his rush to read the incoming message. 
“Well?” you asked as his thumbs flew across his screen. 
“Can’t. Work project is going to keep me busy until the deadline,” he answered without looking up. “Take one of your friends, have a girls trip.”
Friends…those people you never saw anymore because James hadn’t liked them, though he never outright said it, those friends who had warned you that you were marrying a narcissist. 
“It’s our anniversary,” you reminded him. “You know, falls on the same day each year.”
“Mhmm, yeah,” he nodded, clearly not listening. “Sounds good.”
You propped your elbow onto the glass tabletop and dropped your chin onto your palm as a familiar burn of resentment simmered in your soul. “The mailman gave me a pearl necklace.”
“That’s nice. Put it on my credit card.” He reached into his back pocket and tossed his wallet across the table, narrowly missing the glass of rosé. 
You opened it and saw the polaroid from your wedding day no longer sat in the clear card slot but was stuffed behind his drivers licence. You shouldn’t have felt hurt after months of being ignored but the pain still surprised you, almost as much as the condom that you found with his cash. He hadn’t bought a box of condoms in at least three years, not since the wedding when you started trying for a baby - something that was probably best that it didn't happen.
“He must eat a lot of pineapples because it tasted delicious,” you murmured as you took his cash and the platinum credit card too.
James nodded and pushed his empty plate away. “Yeah, tasted good, thanks. Need to finish this project.” He rose from the table with his phone and started to make his way down the hall to his office. “Don’t wait up.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.” You had a trip to plan. 
You weren’t going to have a girls weekend but you were going to Melbourne. He may have been James’ friend first, but no one had the ability to turn a bad day (or year) around like Daniel could. 
When you arrived in Perth you hadn’t expected Danny to be the one personally waiting at the airport. It was impossible to miss him with the amount of people that surrounded him, asking for pictures and autographs before he spotted you stepping out of customs. 
You didn’t need to read lips to see him apologising to everyone as he made his way towards you, holding up a large welcome sign for ‘Roo’. You rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you after one drunken night that ended with you tangled in a hammock, your head poking out of the material like a joey in a kangaroo pouch. You were only grateful he hadn’t nicknamed you Joey since the name had stuck over the years.
Your greeting turned to a peal of laughter as he dropped the sign and swept you into a hug that lifted your feet off the ground to spin you around. 
“I’ve missed you, you beaut!” Danny’s smile was contagious and even when your feet were securely back on the ground he still kept his arms around you. “A shame James can’t come, but we can totally make his jealous as fuck for ditching us. One week, you, me, road trip to Melbourne.”
Day One - Perth to Kalgoorlie “I hope you know where we are going.”
Daniel laughed and just winked from the driver's seat of his Ford Ranger. It had been three hours of driving on the highway and you had not passed one town in the dusty landscape. 
“It’s not far, just down the road a little more,” Danny said for the third time. “We still have half a tank of gas and a crate of Vitamin B, we’ll be fine if we need to camp.”
You quirked an eyebrow up as you looked in the backseat and saw the green box of Victoria Bitter beer strapped with a seatbelt.
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to camp anywhere,” you scoffed, tucking your knee up as the song changed to another country song from his endless playlist. “Spiders, snakes, dingoes, and your snoring. I think not.”
Daniel laughed and indicated to pull off the road despite there not being another soul within what felt like hundreds of kilometres. 
“I’m sorry I said you snore, please don’t leave me here.”
His laugh only intensified as he turned the engine off and turned to face you. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Roo.”
“Then why have you stopped?” You tested the window but it had powered off with the engine. “It’s a freaking sauna in here.”
“Because you haven’t been yourself all day and there’s no cell reception out here so there’s nothing to distract you.” He took the useless device from your hand and tossed it in the glove compartment. “What’s going on with you and James?”
“Nothing,” you muttered as his brown eyes narrowed. “Seriously, there’s nothing going on with him. We hardly speak anymore and he sleeps in his office when he’s not out of town on another ‘business trip’. It’s just…nothing.”
Daniel’s brows pinched together in confusion as he sucked a lungful of air through his teeth. “But…what the hell happened?”
“I don’t know,” you exclaimed as you threw your hands in the air, just as clueless. “What do you want me to say? That he’s having an affair, or that one day he just stopped caring, or both?”
You turned away as it wasn’t a bead of sweat that rolled down your cheek when you sighed in defeat. Unable to withstand the heat without the air conditioner, you tugged the door handle and checked the dirt for any unwanted animals before jumping down from the running boards. 
Daniel was already getting out his side and circling the bullbars before you could wipe the tears away but the sob you had tried to suppress clawed its way out when he pulled you against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured softly as he rubbed your back and let your tears soak into his shirt. “He can be a bit of a cunt, but I never thought he could do that to you.”
“He did and it’s done,” you admitted with a raspy voice that was still strained from the emotion choking each word. “I moved my stuff out last week, not that he even noticed. I thought I could have a break to get away from it all and deal with a divorce when I get back.”
“That fucking idiot,” Daniel said as he pulled his shirt up to wipe your tears away. “He just lost the best thing in the world and he doesn’t even know it.”
Day Two - Kalgoorlie to Caiguna It was another long day of driving but after the broken sleep spent tossing and turning you weren’t much of a companion. You had eventually drifted off to sleep to the country music that Daniel loved so much and dreamt of crawling through fields of watermelons but the paddock soon turned to mud and you sank under the suffocating weight with it filling your lungs. 
“Hey, it’s alright, you’re alright,” Danny soothed as you startled awake, his quick reflexes throwing his arm out to catch you from hitting the window. You could still feel the filthy fluid on your skin and shivered as you changed the song over and took a shuddering breath. “Bad dream?”
You rolled your shoulders and twisted your stiff neck, groaning at the crick that had come from using the seatbelt as a pillow. “Just weird.”
His eyes darted away from the endless road ahead and saw you trying to massage your neck before he brushed your hand aside. There certainly were perks to his strength training because his fingers were a godsend as they erased the knots that had formed.
“Hmmm, thank you,” you sighed deeply and his lips tipped up at the sound.
“Anytime. Hope you got the rest you needed, there’s a stop ahead and these guys know how to throw down.”
You narrowed your eyes at the horizon that was blurred by heatwaves and tried to see what lay beyond but gave up after a few seconds. “Throw down what?”
“Huh?”
“What are they throwing down?”
“Throw down,” he said slowly as if it would somehow make you understand but you were still confused. “Party, drink, dance. Throw down.”
“Oh, throw down, why didn’t you just say that?”
He laughed at your sarcasm and squeezed your knee. “You could definitely do with a drink or two and loosen up. Then I can get my old Roo back.”
“As long as I’m not expected to sleep in a hammock again.”
The motel was a little rough and run down but it had four walls and the bathroom was clean enough to last one night. Daniel had barely given you enough time to get changed into fresh clothes before he was knocking on your door ready to escort you next door to the bar. Coincidentally, the bar was also the restaurant, service station and grocery store all rolled into one.
You and Danny were by far the youngest people in the place but it didn’t stop the warm welcome from everyone. If any of the patrons knew who he was they hid it well because they treated him just like any other stranger passing through.
“Where ya from?”
“Where ya headed?”
“Watch out for ol’ Deloris, she’ll try take a bite out of ya.”
The questions came in quick succession and you looked around the room trying to figure out which of the ladies was Deloris only to find the name on a plaque beneath a huge crocodile head suspended from the rafters.
“Fuck me,” you gasped as you took a step back, bumping into Danny as he laughed along with the bartender.
“Gets ‘em every time,” he chuckled as he placed two large bottles of beer onto the well worn bartop. “Looks like ya sheila could use something a little stronger.”
Daniel’s large hands landed on your shoulders and started to massage the tense muscles. “There’s no crocs ‘round here, isn’t enough water,” he whispered to calm your nerves. “Deloris was probably a pet.”
“Who in their right mind would keep that as a pet?”
“Probably someone not in their right mind.” His warm laugh tickled your ear before he turned you back to the bartender to grab your drink. “Cheers.”
Daniel found a small table in the surprisingly busy restaurant space and it appeared as if most of the locals were keeping the economy running in the place. It was strange to think that the faded walls decorated with old photographs of the glory days gone by felt more homely than the one you had built with James.
You could easily see yourself placing a coin on the pool table to save your place in the queue or ordering the fresh market fish off the menu without questioning how it was fresh so far from the sea. You could see yourself walking in to see the same faces at the end of a long week and the barman would listen to your complaints as he poured your usual without needing to be asked.
You took a generous gulp of beer that Daniel swore was ‘the good stuff’ and hummed at the hoppy flavour as it quenched the thirst that hadn’t stopped since you stepped foot in the country. It was no wonder why they liked their beers so much, they needed whatever they could to cool their bodies down.
“I like this place,” you said with a smile that Danny returned with pride.
“Thought you might, and tomorrow’ll be even better.”
“Where are we going tomorrow?”
Daniel shook his head and occupied his lips with the bottle so he could keep you in the dark a little longer. You didn’t mind this type of surprise, knowing he wanted to make you smile and was planning everything could to make that happen on the road trip.
The doldrum tune that was playing from the corner of the bar was interrupted as a coin was slotted into the jukebox and Josh Turner’s Your Man came on the machine. Couples around the bar and restaurant left their belongings and made their way to the dance floor. Where you came from no one would do that, and if they did their belongings wouldn’t be there when they returned.
Beneath the table you could feel Daniel’s foot tapping in time to the beat and his fingers drummed on the long neck he lifted to his lips. He caught the longing in your eyes as you watched a grey haired man holding his wife, slowly swaying together like you had imagined you would with James in 40 years.
“Come on, Roo,” he invited as he pushed his chair back and held out his hand. His palm was cold and damp from the beer bottle but it was refreshing on your skin with the heat that still lingered with the setting sun. Leading you to the edge of the dance floor he pulled you close and curled an arm around your waist as he started to sing along. “I've been thinking 'bout this all day long, never felt a feeling quite this strong, I can't believe how much it turns me on, just to be your man. I know you know the words, don’t be shy.”
It was impossible to feel embarrassed with him, even if you butchered the song he would still smile like he was listening to his favourite artist live. So, you placed your hand in his and the other rested on his shoulder as you started to sway and sing along.
“There's no hurry, don't you worry, we can take our time. Come a little closer, let's go over, what I had in mind.”
Daniel let go of you and your head fell back with a laugh as he spun you away and pulled you back. You could only giggle as you returned out of step and ended with your back to his chest instead of face to face but he adapted quickly and held your waist instead.
“Baby lock the door and turn the lights down low,” his voice was deep and rich in your ear, intimate and full of promise that hit you unexpectedly. “And put some music on that's soft and slow. Baby we ain't got no place to go, I hope you understand.”
You were glad you weren’t facing him as his words affected you in a way you couldn’t remember feeling for over a year. The very air seemed to thicken in your lungs as you felt every inch of his body fitting against yours. You could feel the veins on his hands as you laced your fingers with his and guided them down to your hips.
This was the first time the lines had blurred throughout the years of friendship and you allowed yourself to feel wanted, if only for a song.
Day Three - Caiguna to Yalata The pounding in your head turned out to be banging on your door and you somehow found the strength to answer it. Bright sunlight flooded in through the crack and you groaned as you covered your eyes.
“Good morning sunshine,” Daniel greeted brightly as he stepped inside. “It’s 7am on another stunning day here in Straya.” 
You playfully shoved Danny and he rolled with it to splay across your bed, the blankets still tucked in from collapsing atop them last night. 
“7am is too early,” you complained as you climbed into the small space he left on the twin sized bed, curling onto your side and throwing your arm over your face to block out the light. “Let me sleep.”
“You can sleep in the car.” His fingers danced teasingly over your ribs and you jutted your elbow back into his hard abs before he could properly tickle you. “Ouch, you’re not very nice in the morning.”
“This isn’t morning, this is still night,” you grumbled as his arm draped over your waist instead.
“The sun is up.”
“Tell that to the people of Norway. It can be sunny at midnight there.”
You could feel him silently laughing at you as it shook the bed. “But we aren’t in Norway.”
“Shh,” you murmured as you snuggled closer to him. “Let me go back to sleep.”
“Fine,” he conceded, making some adjustments to the pillow before shoving his arm under your head, “but just because I’m comfortable now.”
The hangover was gone by the time you woke naturally and you felt refreshed as you stretched lazily. Rolling over in Daniel’s arms you found his eyes closed and his lips parted slightly with soft snores. You raised your head a little to see the alarm clock that was probably considered vintage in the 80’s and saw it was well past check out time. Luckily it didn't appear that the No Vacancy sign was ever used, so there was no rush to leave.
The small movement was enough to wake him and your stomach clenched at the smile that brightened your day more than the blistering sun outside when his honey brown eyes opened. 
“I can’t believe this,” you tutted as you let him pull you closer against his chest. “I was ready to go at 7 and you just went back to sleep…so lazy.”
“How rude of me,” he chuckled. “I’m sure I can find a way to make it up to you.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
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“Woah,” you whispered breathlessly as the truck bounced to a stop on the hard sand of the tidal line. “It’s beautiful.”
“Isn’t it just,” Daniel grinned as he opened his door and looked across at you. “Coming in?”
You bit your lip as your eyes feasted on the picturesque scene. Big barrel waves crashing out in the bay and white sand welcoming bare feet on the shore, it was a sight pretty enough to make angels cry. Hopping out, you rounded the four wheel drive ute and sat on the metal bar running across the front, distracted by the breathtaking view. “What about sharks?”
Daniel’s door shut and you turned to the sound in time to see him pulling his singlet over his head and tossing it through the backseat window before unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans off too. It was impossible not to stare at the hard planes of his chest or the definition of his abs, and then the thick thighs that were barely covered by his boxers. 
“The chances of a shark attack are less than…” His words trailed off as he looked up and caught you blatantly staring, his teeth sparkling as a big smile grew on his face. “The view is spectacular, am I right or am I right?”
“You or the beach?”
“Spectacular is pretty high in the standards of compliments,” he said as he started to flex his arms, “but if you think I’m spectacular then I would accept that.”
You closed your eyes from the harsh sunlight and tipped your head back to feel the rays on your cheeks as you laughed. “You’ve never had to worry about your ego, have you?”
He sent you a playful pout as he walked towards you, his thongs flicking up golden sand behind him with each step. “It would take a hit if you didn’t come swim with me.”
You hadn’t realised quite how many types of heat there was until that moment. There was the heat of the bonnet from hours of driving beneath you, the heat of the sun in the sky above and the heat of his hands that landed on your knees. It was the heat of his hands that seeped into your blood and spread throughout your body, increasing to boiling point as they slowly ran up your thighs.
Your knees unconsciously parted for him and he stepped into the space so you were eye to eye and his tongue rolled across his bottom lip. “There’s nets out past the reef, you’ll be safe with me.”
You took a sharp intake of air as his fingers caught the hem of your shirt and his knuckles grazed your skin. “Well?” he asked quietly. “Trust me?”
You swallowed deeply as you nodded and he rewarded you with another of those smiles you had come to love before he lifted your shirt up and left it on the hood of the truck so he could grab you around the waist and haul you over his shoulder.
“Daniel!” you yelped as the world was suddenly upside down and he kicked his thongs off before jogging towards the water. “Don’t you dare dunk me.”
You expected the next sudden shift when the water reached his knees but as quick as he tossed you up off his shoulder he caught you again with a booming laugh. His arms were bound around your thighs and your hands planted on his shoulders as you looked down at his amused face. 
“I wouldn’t dare,” he promised as he eased his grip, your body sliding down his until you were once more eye to eye. “I just want to make you smile.”
Day Four - Yalata to Port Lincoln  As much as you had found yourself enjoying the historical rich motels in the outback, you were just as happy to find the accommodation in Port Lincoln was a five star resort on the waterfront. The sun was just starting to set when you arrived at the hotel and checked into the two bedroom suite with a gorgeous view of the harbour. 
“I never knew driving could be so exhausting,” you said as you dropped into the swing chair on the large balcony. 
“Don’t worry, tomorrow’s a rest day so you can recover from all that driving you didn’t even do,” Daniel pointed out with a smirk, taking the spot beside you and taking over the leg exercise of swinging it back and forth. “We can do whatever you want, just can’t miss the boat to Adelaide tomorrow night.”
It was nice spending so much time alone with Daniel on the road, comfortable conversations rolling like the tires on the highway, but a change of pace would be welcomed. “What is there to do?”
“Hmm,” he frowned and stood up. “Let me go see.”
Daniel disappeared out of the room and returned a few minutes later with a stack of brochures that he had taken from the tourist stands in reception and you met him on the couch inside where the pleasant offshore wind couldn’t whip them away. Together you flicked through them, separating them into three piles of yes, no and maybe. 
“Sure you don’t wanna cage dive?” he teased as you threw that particular brochure across the room. “You could get up close and personal with a Great White. Once in a lifetime opportunity right there.”
You snorted and shook your head. “Once in a lifetime because it would kill me. Not happening.”
“Here, that’s a yes for you.” 
You took the advert for a farm park where you could hand feed the animals and added it to the yes pile. “Maybe next year we can go to your farm…unless James gets you in the divorce.” Your lips turned down at the idea and you realised you had hardly thought of your husband, but now that you had he had disturbed your peace even though he was thousands of miles away.
Daniel reached over the coffee table to the stationary set, grabbing a hotel engraved pen before pulling his shoe off. “It’s just like Toy Story,” he said as he waved the pen in your face. “Put your name on me first.”
You managed a small laugh as you took the pen and clicked the nib out. “Should tattoo it so it doesn’t wash off.”
Daniel squirmed on the couch as the pen tickled his foot and you grabbed his ankle so he couldn’t move too much but he started to giggle uncontrollably as the nib ran over his instep. “How long does it take to write Roo?”
You laughed and kept going before he wretched his foot free and crossed his leg over his knee to see your full first and last name on it - maiden name, not married.
“For legal purposes,” you said as you clicked the pen nib away and tossed it on the table.
“Fair enough.” He grinned at the writing everytime he looked at his crossed leg and draped his arm over the back of the cushion as you returned to the seat. “You can come by the farm anytime, don’t have to wait for next year.”
“Except for shearing season,” you smirked as you remembered that mistake where you were roped into helping the jackaroos round the sheep up and shave them. “I have no interest in losing all feeling in my arms again.”
“Earned that beer though,” he said with a chuckle as he started to massage your neck. “I was so proud, you weren’t afraid to get stuck in and help. I kinda thought you were a bit of a princess ‘til then.”
Your nose crinkled at the endearment James used to call you. “Well I’m glad I got rid of that image. But, out of curiosity, what do you think I am now?”
The smile could only be described as devilish as his hand spread across your nape and guided you closer to him. His eyes held you captivated and his lips parted with his answer but it was silenced by the sound of ringtone breaking the tension and like a puppet whose strings were cut he fell back into his seat. The emotion in his eyes was erased with a blink and you reached blindly for your phone, answering the call without needing to see who it was from.
“Hey, isn’t it like midnight?” you asked as you lifted the device to your ear but there was no answer at the other end. “Hello? James?”
“Fuck, yeah, just like that baby. God, Laura, you’re so perfect.” The phone slipped from your grasp as you heard the muted but unmistakable sound of James’ voice.
Daniel frowned as he picked the phone up from your lap and lifted it to his ear, shock registering before it transformed into anger and he hung up the phone without breaking the screen with the force of it. He discarded the phone and pulled you into his lap in the same instance but you didn’t hear what he said as you buried your face in his neck and grappled onto him for dear life.
Day Five - Port Lincoln to Adelaide You didn’t feel like doing anything other than staying in bed and sleeping the day away but Daniel wouldn’t let you waste another minute of your time because of James. In a way you could understand the logic and as a big ‘fuck you’ to him you were going to get your shit together and go and have fun.
Daniel worked even harder to get a smile or a laugh out of you and kept his camera on hand to capture the moments he succeeded. The animal farm did make you feel a little better and holding a joey as you bottle fed it was finally enough to break through the invasive cloud that had hung over you. 
“Roo and Roo Two,” Danny commented as he moved around taking a million shots of you.
“Need a hand?” a passing couple offered after watching Daniel try and extend his arm enough to get in the shot too.
“That’d be a dream,” Daniel nodded and he handed his camera over before sitting down beside you and curling his arm around your waist. The joey was almost asleep from drinking all of the milk and Daniel grinned at you as he stroked its neck. “Looks like you when you sleep.”
You grinned back, forgetting about the camera. “Cute, right?”
“Yup, that’s, uh, exactly what I was thinking.” He cleared his throat and scratched his neck awkwardly before laughing when your elbow connected with his ribs. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. You’re a cutie-tootie when you sleep…it’s another story when you’re awake.”
His laugh was loud enough to wake the joey when you nudged him again with an offended look. “What? You’re beautiful when you’re awake.”
“That’s totally what you meant,” you said sarcastically before rolling your eyes. “Just look at the camera and smile like a normal person.”
He tipped his head to yours and smiled brightly for the camera, but he couldn’t resist whispering, “Bold of you to assume I know how to be normal.”
Day Six - Adelaide to Portland It took a moment to recollect the events from the night before and it wasn’t because of the many wine tastings you had gone to around the Port Lincoln area. Perhaps that had a little bit to do with it, but mostly it was because you had fallen asleep in the truck to the gentle rocking motion of the ferry but now you were tucked into an unfamiliar bed. 
“Danny?” you called out as you tossed the covers back and found you were still in yesterday's clothes. You could hear some sounds outside of the room but Daniel hadn't answered your call so you picked up the coat rack from the corner and quickly opened the door.
“Jesus Christ.” Daniel jumped back as you waved the long pole his way. “What the fuck?”
You sagged in the doorway and dropped the makeshift weapon to clutch your chest. “You gave me a fright.”
“I gave you a fright?” he asked incredulously. “You gave me a fucking heart attack. What were you going to do with this?” He swiped the coat rack off the floor and couldn’t stop himself from laughing at it. “Please don’t give me a concussion before the race.”
“But any other time is good?” you quipped as your lips tipped up now that your heart rate was returning to normal. “How did I get to bed?”
He flexed his arms with a cocky grin. “I tried to wake you up but you were dead to the world. And now that sleeping beauty is awake, how about we go out for breakfast? There’s meant to be a huge market that sells a bit of everything that we could check out after.”
You held a finger up as you looked down at your clothes and heard your stomach rumble, answering the question of whether to shower or not first. “Just give me one minute to change.”
Daniel had obviously been awake for a while being an early bird so he was ready and waiting at the door when you reappeared, his hand held out and waiting for yours. The lines between friendship and more were getting blurrier each day but it no longer felt wrong as you laced your fingers with his and stepped outside.
“Are you limping?” you asked with a frown as he kept his weight on one side the entire walk to the market.
“No, just got pins and needles in my foot.”
An hour later he was still favouring his right foot so you steered him back towards the hotel so he didn’t make it worse before you got to Melbourne. “You should probably see a doctor.”
Daniel dropped onto the couch and stole the remote to choose a movie, patting the space beside him so he could kiss your temple after joining him. “You worry too much, I’ll be fine.”
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“You’re quiet,” Daniel commented as he turned off the tv. “What’s got you thinking so loud?”
You chewed your bottom lip as he called you out. He was too observant, or you were too easy to read. “It’s our last night together.”
“You’re still going to stay with me for the weekend, right?” He shifted in his seat to face you and stroked your cheek with the back of his hand as he waited for an answer.
You nodded and he relaxed a little only to freeze as you spoke, “But you’ll be busy, we don’t have time to hang out.”
“I’ll always make time for you,” he promised as he pulled you into his lap. “This week with you has been…spectacular.”
“Spectacular is pretty high in the standards of compliments,” you reminded him, much to his amusement.
His smile softened as his fingers trailed along your jaw and down your neck to trace your collarbone. “Which is why it’s reserved for very, very good things.” 
You were almost certain he could hear your heart racing like thunderous hoof beats in a quiet desert. The blood was pumping around your body carrying the oxygen you needed to replace but couldn’t seem to draw the air into your lungs as he leaned forward.
“You were his best man,” you whispered with the last of your breath as you felt the heat of his lips so close to yours.
“But I’ve always been the best man for you.”
The first kiss was softer than the wind, tentative and testing as you learned how your body responded to the caress before hunger yearned for something deeper. A deep moan rumbled from Daniel’s chest as your tongue rolled across his lips that parted for you and his arms encircled you to hold you tight, as if he were clinging to the spell so it couldn’t be broken.
“Please, Danny,” you sighed longingly as his hands slipped under the summer dress you wore and his thumbs teased you with painfully slow circles on your thighs. “You have never been a patient man, don’t start now.”
His quiet laugh heated the skin of your neck that he kissed with such tenderness you wanted to cry. It had been so long since you had been touched in such a way that you couldn’t wait any longer.
“Please,” you begged as you rolled your hips over his cock that was straining against his shorts. You moaned as the hard length brushed over your panties and a reciprocal sound came from Daniel before he stood up abruptly. 
“Fuck, I wanted to take my time with you,” he murmured against your lips as he blindly walked to the closest bedroom. 
“Later,” you promised. “Right now I need you to get me out of this goddamn dress and fuck me.”
Day Seven - Portland to Melbourne “Oh, fuck off,” you growled as your phone rang on the bedside drawers. You rolled back into Daniel’s embrace and wrapped your arms around his waist as he saw at the voicemail notification before it started to ring again. 
“He’s just going to keep calling,” Daniel said with a sigh that turned to a yawn after the late night spent getting to know each other's bodies intimately. “You’ll have to talk to him at some point.”
“I know, I just want to savour this moment before the drama starts. I can’t remember the last time I woke up like this, happy and content. I’m not ready for that to end.”
“What makes you think I’ll let this end?” he teased as he rolled you onto your back and trailed wet kisses down your neck. “I might just write my name on your foot too and call you mine.”
The warmth of the blankets disappeared as Daniel made his way down your body, kissing the entire length of you before settling between your legs as the phone rang again.
“Answer it,” Daniel ordered as his fingertips delicately traced the stretch marks across your hips, committing every inch of your body to his memory. “Or he won’t go away.”
You tried to find any hint of resentment in his face as you reached for the phone but there was only an air of smugness as he made himself comfortable, resting his head on your thigh.
“I think we have been robbed,” James said without even a hello as you answered the call on speakerphone. “Everything in the guest room is gone.”
A huff of amusement bubbled at the image of him standing in the empty room, his face crumpled in confusion as he scratched his head. “It’s at my apartment.”
“What apartment? What are you on about?”
“The apartment I rented before I moved out two weeks ago. The one I will be living in when I get back.” Daniel’s fingers traced the waistband of your panties and your breath hitched as they slipped beneath the lace.
“Bullshit,” he laughed but there was a hint of uncertainty in the sound. “Just come home and talk about this before you make any rash decisions. I know I have been busy with work lately-"
“More like busy with Laura.” The air that hissed between your teeth could have been mistaken for anger but it was entirely from the devilish look in Daniel’s eyes as he bit the soft skin along your inner thigh.
“Laura’s my assistant.”
The laugh turned to a gasp as Daniel pushed the lace aside and ran his tongue through your folds, his eyes rolling up to watch your reaction, the phone falling from your hand as you reached for his hair.  You tugged the strands as his tongue circled your clit and you couldn’t stop the moan from escaping as you arched your back at the growing pleasure.
“Fuck, yeah, just like that baby,” you begged shamelessly and he chuckled as he felt your walls flutter around the fingers he curled into your cunt. “God, Daniel, you’re so perfect.”
A round of expletives filled the air as James heard a real orgasm take over your body but they fell silent as he realised why the words seemed so familiar. You weren’t just accusing him of fucking Laura, you knew. And you were using his best friend to show him.
“Some friend you are, sack of shit,” James growled as you whimpered with the aftershocks of the orgasm.
“Some husband you were,” Daniel snickered as he tore your panties off and climbed up your body to kiss you, sharing the taste of your pleasure on his tongue before he picked up the phone. “You lost the best thing you had, mate. I won’t make the same mistake you did.”
Daniel ended the call stared down at you in wonder as a slow smile started to spread across his face. “I don’t think he will be calling back.”
It may have been the high of the orgasm, or it could have been the knowledge that after a year of enduring the decaying marriage, but you were free - either way, you were giddy with joy as you wrapped your legs around Daniel’s hips and pulled him closer. 
“I can’t believe you did that,” you giggled as you hooked your fingers into his boxers and pushed them over his hips. 
“He had to know who you belong to now, he had his chance.” His voice was pure decadence in your ear as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds before stretching you wide as he thrust forward and stilled. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size and brushed a gentle kiss across your lips before captivating you with his golden brown eyes. “Still want to know what I think you are?”
Your fingers ran softly down his back, feeling each bump on his spine right down to the twin dimples at the base. “Tell me,” you whispered as your hands grasped the firm muscles of his ass, your nails digging in to spur him into moving.
“Mine.”
Melbourne Grand Prix - Race Day The screams of Daniel’s home crowd were intoxicating and you couldn’t help cupping your hands around your mouth and joining in as he parked front and centre of the pitlane having won his home race. Climbing out of the car, stood atop the halo and threw his fists in the air before tearing his helmet off and holding it up too, tapping his finger on the large number 3.
You couldn’t help but notice how he still favoured his right foot after he jumped off the car and rushed towards his team, grappling them into strong hugs that probably crushed the air out of their lungs - not that they cared as they ran on adrenaline after the race.
“Wow, Daniel, what a race! You were absolutely flying!” the interviewer praised after he took his microphone and joined her in front of the Sky Sports camera. “Looking at some of those high speed corners, it looked like you were fighting to keep the race line.”
“I couldn’t brake hard if I tried,” he laughed and combed his sweaty hair back through his fingers. “Got a fresh tattoo and it’s still a little tender.”
“On your foot?” Naomi asked as she pointed to his Red Bull boot. 
“Yeah, glad it wasn’t on my throttle one or I don’t think I’d be up here,” he joked.
“I’m certain I am asking on behalf of everyone when I say, can we see it?” A cheer from the crowd confirmed her statement and your fingers gripped the metal barrier as goosebumps broke over your skin.
“No way,” you mumbled under your breath as you shook your head to get rid of the ridiculous thought you had.
“Sure, I’ll need this off for my shoey anyway,” he said as he pulled the boot off along with his sock. Turning around, he bent his knee so the sole of his foot could be seen and looked over his shoulder, grinning as he found you at the barrier with his team. 
“Aww, look at that, it’s adorable,” Naomi gushed as she saw the basic outline of a kangaroo on the sole of his foot. “What a way to pay homage to your nation!”
You bit your lip from smiling too hard when he started to laugh as she completely misunderstood what the picture meant. “Of course!” 
He excused himself quickly and hopped towards you, not wanting to get the days old tattoo dirty on the ground. 
“You’re actually insane,” you gasped as you slapped his chest playfully, still in disbelief that he had the word Roo tattooed on his foot beneath the picture. 
He leaned in closer so he could talk without fear of being overheard and you inhaled the purely masculine scent of him enveloping you as his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “It was your idea, and if you didn’t sleep so much you would have been awake to come and get it done with me.”
You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as his hot hands came to rest on top of yours. “I must admit, I’m a little disappointed that it isn’t my full name.”
“Do you know how ticklish that was? I would have wet myself trying to get your whole name.”
You smirked at him, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening with his growing smile. “That sounds like a you problem.”
“Does anyone have a marker pen?” Daniel asked loudly and about half a dozen were thrust his way in an instant. 
“What are you doing?” you asked as you took a step back but the crowd was so tightly packed there was nowhere to go.
“Foot,” he said as he tapped the barrier, “up. It’s not a tattoo…yet.”
“You’re insane,” you laughed as you shook your head but instead he dropped to his knees and caught your ankle under the barrier.
“And you’re mine, I just need to…stop wriggling,” he complained as he pulled your shoe off and bit the cap off the marker before inking your sole. Twisting your foot about you saw his driver number covering the skin and bit your lip at the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he flipped the pen in his hand. “There, that’s better.”
“Is it?” you joked as you slipped your shoe back on. “I would have said spectacular.”
You were always surprised that his smile could somehow brighten, even when it seemed like it couldn’t possibly grow any more. But his smile grew as stepped closer and his hand reached for the back of your neck, pulling you to meet him as much as the barrier allowed.
“Spectacular?” he echoed before crushing his lips to yours until you were breathless and forgot where you were. “Yeah, that’s more like it.”
Daniel's Road Trip Playlist: Cruise - Florida Georgia Line Watermelon Crawl - Tracy Byrd Your Man - Josh Turner You Make It Easy - Jason Aldean Right Now the Best - Zach Bryan Over For You - Morgan Evans Live Like You Were Dying - Tim McGraw Die A Happy Man - Thomas Rhett Butterflies - Kacey Musgraves
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liveontelevision · 13 days
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Hi! I wasnt exactly sure if you’re taking request but i was hoping for something with Lucifer and a babysitter reader. Maybe they baby sat Charlie, and they just have a lot of tension. And then maybe them reuniting after him and lilith have split and it all goes down 👀
Love your slowburny Lucifer fics 🙏🙏
!!!
First off, thank you! I'm really glad you enjoy my stuff! I've been struggling with writing recently, so your request was perfectly timed lol
Also Yes! I'm always taking requests!
Plus, it's such a good request.. so good, I had way too many ideas for how it could go. So - this is a 2 parter >:) Suffer
CW: No smut yet, just suggestive fluff for now
Suffer | Lucifer x Reader
It really was a happy day in Hell when the royals introduced an heir to the throne. A darling daughter, who was the first of her kind; A hellborn baby, birthed by a sinner and an archangel. No one really knew what to expect or what kind of powers she held. But they had to be immense. She had to be some kind of beast, based on her genes alone. In theory. 
One look at her, all swaddled up in her mother's arms, Lucifer fell in love all over again. Sure, he was ecstatic to hear that he was having a child, but he didn't realize how much of an effect she’d have on him. She was an absolute angel. Mostly. Great powers must be controlled, and that isn't exactly something an infant can comprehend. It was innocent at first, with little fireworks coming from fingertips, toys being lost in portals, and horns and tails emerging during temper tantrums. Nothing a good nanny couldn't fix. 
That’s what Lillith’s mindset was, at least. It was a heated debate between the married couple, with Lucifer arguing a child needs to be loved and adored by their parents. He was willing to put in the time, why wasn't she? Of course, Lilith was a busy demon, with the whole empowering demonkind with her voice and songs thing, but too busy to handle her own baby?
“She’s gonna be an adult before we know it. Can’t you spend a few decades seeing her grow up..?” Lillith delicately takes her cutlery to her mouth, picking at the dinner she shared with her husband, who was seated on the other end of their lengthy table.
“Unlike you, my love, I have duties to attend to. Someone has to keep things running smoothly, to keep every demon’s hopes as high as they can be. You remember what it was like falling, being all alone and left in an unfamiliar world? I wouldn't want anyone else to feel that way. Would you?” He hated to agree, but did so anyway. She always knew what to say to make him feel guilty. Either way, she was right. He really didn't do much nowadays. He worked in his shop more, his newborn daughter becoming a great source of inspiration, but Lillith handled most of the publicity. Which, in Hell, is one of the only purposes for royalty. Lucifer didn't need to create life anymore, Hellborn creations were multiplying just fine. Probably a little too much, actually. He had all the free time in the world to shower his daughter with affection. 
“ I mean..! I guess not, but they're filthy little demons, and this is your daughter! You want to leave her in the hands of some stranger? It’s just.. not right..! She needs a mother, Lily!” He was clearly passionate about this. Slamming his fists on the table, he sent ripples through the poured wine in front of Lillith’s plate.
“Lucifer. You’re causing a scene.” He hated when she said that, too. And again, he shrunk back in his seat, keeping his mouth shut. They had been drifting apart for a while, the distance not doing them any favors. He had no interest in interacting with demonkind and was fully comfortable with letting Lillith take that on, so they became more distant as she tended to Hell’s growing population.
When she rose from her seat, he finally perked up, hoping to meet her eyes. She was already halfway out of the room. “I’ll do all the work, darling, not to worry. I’ll make sure any candidate is thoroughly interviewed and trained, I promise.” Her voice was reassuring, even with the heartless subject matter. Leaving Lucifer alone in the room with some imps that usually stand along the walls, he spotted her almost untouched plate. pushing away from the table, he nearly knocked his heavy, ornamented chair onto the ground and left through another exit.
“Oh, Charlie.. Your mother loves you very much.” He swung the bundled-up baby in his arms, reveling in the sound of her giggles. Pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, he placed her carefully in her golden crib. Standing over her, he leaned onto the railing, watching her large red eyes flutter shut. “And.. I will shelter and adore you, sweetheart. I love you, more than anything.” He wiped a little tear that began to well up in his eye when he spoke and struggled to finally pull himself away. Protecting himself from his intrusive thoughts, he held his arms across his chest and turned to leave her nursery.
“Aww, that was so sweet..” The figure leaning in the doorframe caused him to let out a startled yelp. “Who the Hell.. You have to leave, whoever you are.” He became immediately defensive, holding his hand away from the crib in some form of protection, but he still spoke in a hushed voice. If you were just an imp he wouldn't be as worked up, but you were a sinner. A sinner who suddenly appeared in his daughter’s room. “O-oh! Um, sorry, I thought the queen would’ve.. I’m your new nanny..?” You let out a nervous chuckle, shrugging your tensed shoulders. And now? You’re admitting you're the very demon who’ll be raising his daughter alongside him. He dropped his arms, letting out a scoff, clearly unenthused. Looking you up and down, he stood there staring daggers. After a moment of awkward silence, you held out your hand to shake his, but he didn’t respond to it.
“What are your qualifications? Where did you come from? What makes you think you’re worthy of laying hands on my daughter? The princess of Hell?” He circled you, in an attempt to intimidate you, despite his small stature. “Well, um... When I was alive, I was the oldest kid at the foster house I grew up in. It wasn’t the best facility, so I basically raised most of the girls there.. I’ve seen it all, I guarantee.” You tried to lighten the mood with a quick smile, but it didint do much. “And Lillith approves of you?” You nodded, gripping the hem of your skirt nervously. “Hm. I am not as easily swayed as my wife. She’s my daughter, too. You’ll have to do better than - “ An ear-piercing wale comes from behind him. The commotion must've woken Charlie up. “Oh! No no nono..” His demonic presence faded to reveal what he really was. A father. He scooped her up and cooed, hushing her and swaying her slowly. It did nothing to help. That’s when another fact clicked in your mind; he wasn’t just a father, he was a new father. He lets out a nervous groan, wiping tears away from her heated cheeks.
“Your majesty..?” You slowly approached him, both of you still on edge. “May I?” He was clearly still debating the idea, but another loud wail had him hesitantly passing the swaddled child to your arms. He had such a light hold on her, you noticed his hands trembling when he finally released her into your grasp. You held her close, her front against your chest as you hummed in a low tone a little tune. You picked up a little trick, the vibrations from your chest helped calm her down. The action of swaying the baby and engrossing yourself in the little song running through your head actually calmed the both of you. You still spoke softly, in a low tone, “Thank you, sir. For trusting me with her, i mean. I’ll be here for anything you need. Anything she needs.” You sent him a warm smile. He simply nodded his head slowly, still witnessing the miracle that is someone with experience caring for a child. Maybe this could work out.. What could go wrong?
“I’m gonna getcha!” A high-pitched giggle filled the corridors of the manor, Lucifer rounds the corner to follow after his surprisingly speedy toddler. He was mostly having fun with this little game of tag but was also mildly concerned by her growing distance. “Gotcha!” A pair of arms swooped down from around another corner, scooping Charlie up as she let out a playful yelp. You held her in a tight hug, before adjusting your position to hold her up comfortably. Lucifer panted, smiling at the sight of you and his daughter, despite him being out of breath. “G-good catch.. Hoof..!” He stretches his arms upwards, then places them on the small of his back. “Aren’t you the most powerful being in Hell? Why are you acting like a middle-aged dad with a broken back?” you laughed through your words, the sound making Charlie laugh along. He stood up straight and crossed his arms over his chest, a pout on his face. “Uh, It’s for fun? Ever heard of playing pretend?” You bit your lip to prevent yourself from mocking him anymore. “Don’t laugh!” You shook your head, then watched him open his arms out to you. Or, to Charlie, actually, but you stepped back instead of handing her over. “Oh, I forgot to remind you, you actually have to head to the Heaven Embassy in a bit, so I’m gonna put Charlie down for her nap instead.” He dropped his arms and grimaced. “Right..”
This mid-day nap was a sort of tradition for Lucifer and his daughter. It was one of the few moments that Lucifer looked forward to these days. You knew that. As much as you enjoyed your job, it came with the unfortunate privilege of seeing Lucifer in his slumps. You rarely saw Lillith, actually, but that made sense. You were only here for Charlie while Lillith couldnt be. When you did spot her iin passing, you’d hand Charlie over and let the two of them have a sweet interaction, usually a quick hug and peck on the forehead, but that was usually it. You’d always notice Charlie clinging onto your shoulder and looking back in her mother’s direction whenever she handed her daughter back to you. It always crushed your heart to hear her go silent after those moments.
“Actually, I was wondering if you’d want to help get her ready for the gala tonight? You should be back in time and it won't take long. Lilith only wants her to make a quick appearance, so it shouldn't be too much work.. Good bonding moment, too!” His eyes sparkled at your invitation and he was quick to accept it. “Thank you, dear. I’ll find you after that meeting.” As he goes to walk past you, he places a hand on your back. He does this often, but as the years went on, it shifted from your shoulder to your shoulderblade, and now he delicately places his hand on your lower back whenever he can. It made you anxious at first.. Was anxious the right word? Either way, you didn't stop him.
He leaned in to place a kiss on Charlie’s forehead, becoming increasingly close to your own face. It wasn't a quick motion. He pressed a dramatic kiss onto her head, letting out a mwah! sound as he pulled back. But before he did, he looked up to you with half-lidded eyes. The eye contact seemed to last forever. And you ever wanted it to stop. A small hand came up and patted Lucifer’s cheek, a childish giggle breaking the moment between you two. What were you thinking? He’s your employer, he’s a king. He’s kind, and sweet, and tries really hard to be a good dad. Nope! Stop it.
“Right! Meeting! Heaven! Gonna.. Yup, I’ll see you.. Uh..” You finished off his words, “ - tonight?”
“Exactly! You got it! Bye, Darling!” He waved his hand off and walked off in a random direction that you were pretty sure didn't lead to where he was supposed to go. “I-I was talking to Charlie, by the way!” You heard from around the corner. You couldn’t stop your laughter with that one. “I know.” You said it softly, not letting him hear the slight disappointment in your voice.
The Gala wasn't a new event, Lillith held them often. Lucifer made his appearance with Charlie, then usually would make up some excuse to get out of the room. Gathering the leaders of each ring of Hell and some of the more powerful overlords, and demons, it was still a big deal. You dressed up Charlie often, since she would throw a temper tantrum when any of the stylists would try to get her ready. You didn't mind, you actually enjoyed prettying her up. You stalled for as long as you could, before beginning to dress her. You wanted to wait for Lucifer, but you assumed he got caught up in some kingly duties. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Don’t be upset. Stop missing him.
“Sorry - Sorry! I'm here!” The blonde demon rounds the corner, hopping on his one foot to balance himself before stopping firmly in Charlie's room. He was wearing an incredibly elegant suit. A dark purple sash cinches His waist, which was only visible because his jacket was hung over his shoulder. His shirt was speckled in gold, matching his hair when under certain light. “Had to convince them I could finish getting ready on my own! Damn stylists, can't catch a break with them.” He let out an awkward laugh, followed by a hoot. He sees Charlie, in her dark purple dress, with small poofed out sleeves, made of a transparent tool. “Charchar! Look at you, kiddo!” He scooped her up and held her close while he swung around. “You're beautiful, sweetheart.” He knew she wouldn't understand that until she was older, but never stopped him from praising her.
He pressed his forehead against hers, laughing along with her. You hated to break the tender moment, but you cleared your throat, bringing the attention back to you. “She's just about ready, just got her hair left.” He placed her back in the chair as you went for a brush. Working through her hair piece by piece, Lucifer suddenly stopped you. “Um.. can I try?” You nodded eagerly, handing the brush over. He swiped slowly, ebing startled by the crunch of a knot, he froze and pulled it away. “It’s okay, you won't hurt her - “ You didn't need to help him this way. Honestly, if anyone were to come in and witness this you could be fired. Still keeping that in mind, you place your hand over his, and guide the brush indirectly, to carefully work through her hair.
After far too long, you pulled your hand away and went to grab some other accessories. His brain was completely fried by the interaction, if this were some looney cartoon, smoke would be puffing out his ears. You weren't as calm as you were coming off as either. Why did you do that? You’d face a fate worse than a second death if anyone saw that. After letting your face cool down, you turned back and bumped Lucifer over with your hip, to take his spot directly behind Charlie. Placing your hands on her shoulders and kneeling down a bit you smile at her reflection. “What do we think, hun? Ponytail? Pigtails? Buns?”
“Braids!” You look at her with a questioning hum. “Pleease!” Braids it is. You start to section off her hair and quickly wrap one clean braid down her back. It only took you a few minutes to do it, leaving bystander Lucifer to sit in awe. He did that a lot. Whenever you’d do something with Charlie that came as second nature to you, he would watch intently. After you noticed his gaze, you began showing him how to do whatever task you had on hand. He needed those moments with her, you knew that. “Wanna give it a shot?” He jumps, as if you had just caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing. “A-Are you sure? It looks kind of complicated, I don't want to ruin her hair if - “ You interrupted his nervous rambling by calling out his title. “I’ll show you, just come watch.” He nodded, almost too quickly, and rushed to stand near you. Very near you. He stood close enough to let your shoulders touch whenever you would lift your arm a certain way. You unfurled the braid you had already done, making Lucifer let out a little sound of disappointment, that you’d ruined your hard work just for him. After attempting to explain it, he manages to struggle his way through a messy braid. He saw you holding in some kind of laugh and sent you daggers.  “No - no! It’s good! Especially for your first time, it’s holding up pretty well! Here - “ You pulled the braid back out, then restarted it, letting him pick it up at an easier place. You took his wrists every so often, to turn his hand in the proper direction before letting him go on.
The focus between the two of you suddenly became intense. He stuck out his tongue a bit, too engrossed in his styling to notice. You stood behind him, your hands pressed on his back, while you stood on your tip toes to observe what he was doing from over his shoulder. Pointing out little pieces of hair that were falling out, you would reach out your pointer finger to gesture towards it, only bringing you a bit closer together.
“Is.. Is that it?” He stepped back slowly, giving you the chance to back away with him. You swung around and examined the braid that he had probably spent too much time on, with an overly dramatic hum. Tapping your chin and squinting your eyes, you researched the braid as if it were some puzzle to solve. “It looks great, Lucifer.” Looking towards him, you were expecting an overly confident grin at the acknowledged accomplishment but instead, was met with a wide-eyed bundle of nerves.
“Sir! I-It looks good, Sir! Well - I’ll let you finish getting ready and take Charlie to -” Reaching out your hands to pick Charlie up, Lucifer stops you by grabbing your arm. “It’s okay! I mean, that’s.. That’s my name! Makes sense for you to call me that, considering its my name, so - “ He lets you go and starts fiddling with the clasps on his sleeves. “It’s okay.. for you to do that..” You smile to yourself, going back to tidying up Charlie’s get-up, doing little things like putting on her darling little shoes and tying a ribbon at the end of her hair.
Lucifer then stood in front of the mirror, brushing off his shirt and slipping on his jacket. It was a dazzling plum-colored suit coat, with golden clasps across his torso, and a golden shoulder plate, that allowed a sheer cape to drape down his left side. He was absolutely stunning. You did your best to avert your eyes, staring at him felt like staring at the sun. You only turned in his direction when he cleared his throat to get your attention. “Sorry.. dear, but uh… If you’re done with Charlie, I just - I’m struggling a little bit here..” You watched him attempt to adjust his lopsided tie, finally drooping his head with a sigh of defeat. “Wow, I thought you wore one of those every day, what’s the problem?” The teasing always helped lighten the mood, you placed your hand on your hip as you leaned your weight onto the vanity.  He glared at you again, letting out a huff before mumbling under his breath. “It’s a clip on..”
You let out a breath you had been holding in, partially from keeping in your laughter, but mostly from the nerves. With the combination of you wearing house slippers, and him wearing his particularly taller pair of boots, he managed to look down at you when you approached him. You should've made it a quick motion, you’ve tied bowties dozens of times, so it definitely wasn't a new task for you. But instead, you took your time. You carefully traced your hands up to his neck, tugging on both ends to pull it as far forward as it could go. You stopped to straighten the collar of his shirt, then delicately knotted the tie with ease. Your breath became heavier when you rested your hands on the finally tied bow, feeling his heart pounding against the side of your palm. After he caught you in your act, he stepped back, the image of his wife suddenly popping into his head. “Ahha.. Well, um - Thank you. I’ll take Charlie, it’s about that time anyway!”
"R-Right.." you suddenly felt guilty for your actions, worrying that you overstepped some lines. He didn't seem upset or uncomfortable, he was just silent. As he lifted Charlie from her chair, the vision of the two of them left you breathless. A beautiful pair, with porcelain skin contrasting against a palette of muted purples, and the biggest, brightest eyes. Charlie's braid hung loosely down her back, same golden strands accented in the light off the room. You almost wanted to be in the moment with them.
"Hey, so.. if you think you have time, you're welcome to go down to the ballroom for a drink or.. something... if you want." He really had to consider if that was a good idea. The thought was sitting on his mind while he enjoyed the view of your focused expression on his tie. He watched your eyes light up at the notion, his heart swelling with.. with something.  "Oh! I mean - The queen talks about it like it's this big important fancy thing, but.. if you think it'll be okay.. I'll - um - " She thought for a moment, looking around the room. "I don't exactly have anything to wear.. I'll join next time, if the invites still open?" You smiled, but it was strained. And he could tell. "No problem! I'll have her find something for you, then you can slip in whenever you want. No pressure!"
With a wave of his hand, a little imp girl came from a portal he had conjured up. Peeking inside, you saw a vast collection of gowns. The imp took your hand and dragged you in silently. You stumbled, then stammered something out, something that should've been a thank you, or a show of appreciation, but you were too stunned by the situation. He waved, then Charlie waved, then the two were out of the room.
The picture of them together ran through your mind. Not just them in matching outfits, but whenever he would press his forehead against hers, or he would show off his horns when Charlie was prodding at her own. Or when they really seemed like a family. Lillith was never in those pictures. Fuck, don't be jealous. You're getting paid far too much money to feel anything like that. Plus, you're being treated to an elegant evening gown without even asking. You don't get to be jealous.
Luckily, the imp rolled out a rack of dresses, it was stuffed to the brim, but was still a more manageable collection compared to the entire room. You sifted through them, and each one that twisted your face, she took off the hanger and set aside. After narrowing it down, you were stuck on two dresses; a sultry red dress, with an incredibly high slit and a stretched velvet material that hugged you in all the right places. Definitely a head turner. Even if this gala had a V.I.P list, maybe some handsome individual could help you distract yourself.
But the other option was a glistening lavender color, the neckline went across your shoulders, turning to gloves that tapered at your knuckles. A sheer corset held your curves in place, and it was paired with pearl accessories, to go with your sleek white heels. Both were gorgeous of course, but turning your hips and taking in how you looked in that lavender gown.. you could see yourself fitting quite nicely into your mental picture of Lucifer and Charlie. You would never admit that's why you picked it. You were prettied up, your hair pulled to one side with pearl clips scattered within the strands, and a little touch of makeup that you really didnt want, but was convinced without a word by the stylist. You looked like royalty. And that made you feel good in so many ways.
Lucifer said you could "sneak in", and you thought it best to take that literally. Waving and greeting all the workers in the kitchen that you knew, you finally slipped through the door where the caterers traveled from. You went straight for the bar, not because you needed a drink - well, I'm sure that's part of it - but because you had no idea what to do. What, were you supposed to walk straight up to Lucifer? Or Lillith? The idea of seeing Lillith suddenly made your stomach churn. You realized that you actually got there in time to see the introductions for most of the more esteemed guests. They went through the sins, who were larger than life, then a flared announcement for the Morningstar family was belted out.
Lucifer stood with a devilish grin, looking handsome as always. Lillith was still stunning, her gown trailing behind her.. but it was black. It wasn’t purple, or plum, or lilac, it was just black. It may not have looked like a contrast to everyone, but it upset you for some reason. Charlie stood between them, looking incredibly calmed considering the intensity of the moment. Lillith was holding her small hand, but the difference in height made her strain to keep their fingers intertwined. You cringed watching her stand on the tip of her toes to keep contact with her own mother.
Quietly, as to not interupt the announcements, you beckoned the bartender to bring you a drink. You sat and sipped, your back arched as you leaned your weight onto your elbows. What were you doing here? Was this all worth it? To have your little Cinderella transformation? 
"Hello, darling.. and who might you be?" A sultry voice came from behind, causing you to swivle in the chair to face where it came from. It wasn't Lucifer, which left you mildly disapointed, but you definitely weren't upset at the curvy woman standing in front of you, wearing a dress that left nothing to the imagination. The swishing demonic tail wasn't something you hated either. A real fox.
"Oh, a friend invited me, I didnt want to cramp his style, so here I am." As you spoke, the bartender brings a tall flute of champagne over to the gorgeous demon in front of you. She glides to sit in the seat next to you. "Hm - well, I'd hate to see you all alone tonight, mind if I keep you company, love?" She slid her fingers up your arm and you have no idea how you managed to keep your cool. "Not at all~" maybe it was the confidence of your new appearance, but you had no issue with spending the night with this stranger.
All of a sudden, Charlie was plopped into your seated lap, causing you to look up towards an intimidating Lucifer. Examining the sudden shift in mood, you were relieved to see Lillith talking to some demons on the other side of the room. "Glad you could make it! Charlie here - reeaally missed you, thought I should say hi." He smile was forced, you noticed a slight twitch in his eye. "Ah, I see you've met my nanny! Quite a beauty, wouldn't you agree?" Lucifer came incredibly close to you, leaning in and placing his hand on your back. The only issue was the low cut of the dress, allowing you to feel his warm hands on your skin. You hoped he didn't feel the shiver run up your spine.
Taking a hold of Charlie as she climbed up your lap to hug your neck, you let out a natural laugh, feeling like yourself for the first time tonight. Looking back to your conquest, who was definitely about to ask you to "get out of here", you see a face of absolute disgust. Oh, right. You're just a sinner to these higher ups. And a working class one at that. Nanny wasn't the most flattering occupation apparently. She made a terrible excuse to get out of the conversation and walked away a little faster than she should've.
"Sir! I have no problem watching Charlie tonight, but - I was about to -" your face flushed as you tried to explain how you were just trying to get laid tonight. “Get a drink, right? Make sure you stick to the non-alchoomic stuff, hun, sounds like Charlie gets to stay up late tonight!" With a hefty pat on your back, Lucifer stepped away to talk to another random demon. What the fuck? Lucifer had beckoned the bartender over again, and when you looked back to the counter, you see a sad looking soda water. With a sigh, you guzzle the drink just to wet your dried throat.
As much a you loved Charlie, there was no better chick repellant. And even for the brave souls who decided to approach you and still show interest, Lucifer would suddenly appear, keeping his hand just above your tailbone as he mentioned your hard work as his employee. Maybe it was the word nanny, or the intimidating presence of the king of Hell, but he had to be doing this on purpose. You kind of hoped he was doing this on purpose.. After one too many fleeting suitors, you worked your magic and calmed Charlie until she fell asleep in your arms. You hummed a little tune again, the method was something she became accustomed to after you started taking care of her.
"My my~ what a sweetheart." A broad shouldered demon approached you, his lower voice ringing throughout your chest. "Isn't she? She's exhuasted, I should really get her to bed." You never took your eyes off of Charlie, making it easy for him to slip a hand around your waist." Ah, you’re her caretaker, hm? Well.. what do you have going on after you get her to bed?" His hand trails down to your hips, starting to trace a circle with his thumb. You swung away, a look of disgust on your face." Probably going to bed. By myself." You hissed. You never had a problem handling those kind of advances, and you'd do anything to keep Charlie safe, so you kept your distance. "You don't have to do that, baby~ why don't you show me around the Morningstar manor?" He closed the distance, and as you go to step back, your back hits the bar. "N-No thanks, I'm.. not..." You would have gotten nervous in the moment, if you didnt see a blonde headed angel approaching with horns threatening to burst out.
"Stay away from her." A small puff of flames came from Lucifer's snarl as he reprimanded the thug. He scoffed and stepped away as if nothing had happened. Probably the smartest thing for him to do at this point. Lucifer's suddenly glowing red eyes returned to their normal hue once he turned his attention to you. You froze in place. It felt like you were in trouble too. "You're okay?" He spoke blankly, you couldn't tell what emotion he was trying to convey, let alone how he actually feels. You nodded, keeping a hand on the back of Charlie's head." Get her to bed." With a dramatic turn, his transparent cape flew behind him and he returned to Lillith's side. He placed his hand on the small of her back.
You wanted to cry. To scream and drink until you can't think of anything. Charlie was your main priority, though. You took her to her nursery as soon as you could. Carefully changing her into her pajamas, a cute little onesie with ducks printed all over, then placed the drowsy toddler into her bed. "Oh Charlie.. You are so lucky to be so loved." You spoke geniunely, no matter your feelings, the amount of love Charlie is given and how much she gives in return was always so unbelievable to you. She was made of pure joy. Brushing some hair away from her face, you stepped back, taking your time on returning to your room.
"That is so sweet." You shot your head up, unpleasantly surprised by Lucifer's sorry face. "She's in bed, what do you need from me?" You spoke softly, as to not wake her. "You look beautiful. I just.. didn't get a chance to say that earlier, is all." Your face twisted in digust. "You know, you weren't the only one who thought that tonight. That was the first time I've been hit on in months. Couldn't you let me just enjoy the night..?" You were becoming increasingly frustrated, and it was translating clearly through your words. He flinched at your aggression, suddenly becoming defensive.
"That filfthy demon was feeling you up..! What else did you want me to do?" He started to match your energy, quietly responding in an aggitated state." Not him, the rest! I was about to leave with that lady at the bar, and I'm sure others would've enjoyed my company if I wasn't getting handed a toddler every second." You'd regret that one later, referring to Charlie as just a toddler. "That's your job, dear. Remember why you're here." He puffed out his chest, becoming increasingly close to your figure. You shrunk away, your eyes widened at his words.
"Oh- Oh, no, I didn't mean to - wait, I wasn't - " He stammered, his intimidating stature immediatly dropping as he say your eyes start to glaze over with tears, which only flowed down your cheeks after batting your made-up lashes. "Nonono! Please don't cry I - um.. " his eyes darted around the room, before reaching his arms out and reeling you in to a tightening embrace. Your chin sat on his shoulder, the shock momentarily keeping the water works at bay.
"I got nervous, okay..? I didn't want anything.. bad... to happen. I didn't want to lose you in there." Those words shouldn't tug at your heart strings at much as they did, but that and the low rumble of his voice just slightly hitting your ear made it impossible.
"I-I can handle myself.." You sniffled, your breath becoming heavier as you felt his hands start to explore your back. He rested one hand on the small of your back, sending a familiar warmth to your chest. But then, his fingers traced upwards, holding onto your shoulders for a moment, before lightly clawing down your bare back. He traced over a certain spot that tickled you the wrong  way, causing you to force out a little yelp. You both stopped for a moment, the only thing you could hear was the uneven pants coming from your mouths. He pulled away for a moment, keeping his hands on your shoulders. Then eyeing you up and down, he ran his grasp across the length of your arms. "I known you can.. you're wonderful." He somehow spoke as if he was completely unaffected by the intimacy he was just showing you. Your breath only picked up more, instantly regretting what you were about to do.
With a small leap, you pulled him in by his collar and messily met his lips. It couldn't be a quick peck, that's too confusing. You wanted this to last forever. He kept his lips sealed shut at first, but that didn't last long. With a shakey breath against your lips, he pulled you in by your waist suddenly, bringing you as close to him as he could. The motion took the air out of your lungs, forcing you release a vocal sigh. He only held you tighter after that. Your arms trailed up and around his shoulders, combing through the hairs at the nape of his neck. He broke for a moment, his kisses traveling down your lips to your jawline, then down to your neck.
Flicking your hair back, he latched an incredibly wet kiss on the softness of your neck. Lucifer took the invitation of your strapless dress to fully cover you in kisses, occasionally running his tongue up the length of your neck. A panting mess, you pulled him back up by his chin, finally getting a good look at his face. He was falling apart at the seems. He looked desperate to get back to working on your neck, like he hadnt been intimate with anyone in years. You needed his lips against yours again. Holding his jaw, you pressed a kiss on his lips, then squeezed your thumb amd index finger to open his lower jaw and push your tongue into his mouth. He let out a nervous moan, before quickly catching up to you.
This wasn’t right. This part wasn't in your mental picture of a perfect family. And you knew why. Your thoughts were silenced, feeling his mouth trail back down to your collarbone. He thumbed at the top of your long glove, beginning to pull it down. God, never let this moment end.
But you forgot. You're in Hell.
With a frantic patting on his shoulder, you quickly attempted to get his attention. When Lucifer met your eyes again, they had gone wide, and he finally noticed you shaking. "Hey, hey! What is it? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"
"Yes." He froze. He slowly turned his head to the door. Lillith.
"Darling, please, I'm sorry, you know you're the only one for me - it was a long night, mistakes were made, let's just move on, hm..?" He was begging for this moment to be over, as Lillith moved past him and approached you. You had to crane your neck to look at her, your entire body trembling. You had mascara running down your eyes, and your lipstick had smeared in all directions. Lillith lifted your head up even further, wiping some smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth. "Lily..?" Lucifer let out softly. She let out a soft sigh. She didn't seem to be angry, which seemed to make you more nervous than if she was. "D-Don’t.. don't hurt her..." It's like he was scared to stick up for you. That, and the fact that he just called this past interaction a mistake, weighed heavily on your heart. "You think that little of me, my love? I would never. It was a mistake, after all, just as you said." She spoke so calmly but knew exactly what to say to make you cower in fear. You let out a pathetic whimper, "P-Please... I'm s-sorry, Your Highness..." She smiled and tightened her grip on your jaw for a moment before letting you go. You didn't realize she was actually lifting you up slightly until you were dropped down. “So.. we can talk and figure this out, right? Lily?" She kept her eyes off of the anxious mess that Lucifer was becoming." Of course, love. We'll talk in the morning. Oh, and obviously - " She turned towards you just before leaving the room. 
"You're fired.”
HA
Anyway, there is absolutely a part 2 for this don't worry and I'll get to it.. eventually.
!Taglist!
( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood )
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
Note
Hello my beautiful bubs💗 so I see you added Max Burnett to your list and like to request a little angsty and fluff. 
So Maybe him and reader get into a ugly and heated argument or he leaves her with no explanation like he does in the movie but then they End up fixing everything after awhile. 
hey baby! I hope you like what I wrote!
summary - max left you with a word, causing you to go through many stages of heartbreak until you finally meet again after 5 years.
warning - angst, swearing, heartbreak, no happy ending.
the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips and @firefly-graphics
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He told you to meet him here. You were sure of it. You had reread the address and time he sent, not wanting to disappoint him. You waited anxiously on the bed, gnawing your bottom lip as you whipped your head from the door to your phone. You turned it on and went to the messages, opening his contact.
Max❤: Meet me at our spoken place, you know what room. No, later than 12.
You looked at the time, noting it was now an hour past 12, and you were all alone. You scrolled through the messages you had sent him.
You: I’m here. 12:00 seen
You: Max? Where are you? 12:05 seen
You: Max? 12:15 seen
You stared sadly at your last message.
You: I see… You’re not coming… 1:00 message could not be delivered
You blinked back the tears, wondering if you would’ve seen the signs beforehand if you weren’t so stupidly in love. You would’ve rathered him break things off face to face instead of leaving you like this. Did he even care about you? Were you nothing to him? All these thoughts ran through your head as you stared at the wall, not bothering to wipe the tears that rolled down your cheek away. You must’ve been there for a long time because you were only brought out of your zoned-out state when someone entered the room, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and asking if you were okay. You painfully smiled, nodding your head before leaving. You made your way home, feeling drained of all emotion, not knowing if you’ll ever feel okay again. 
You slowly stripped from your clothes, turned the shower on and entered. Your head rested against the cool tile, letting the water run down your body as tears fell from your eyes. Your heart hurt more than ever, squeezing harshly inside your chest as if someone had reached inside and begun to squeeze. Your sobs filled the quietness of your apartment, showing you how alone you really were. Once you were finished with your shower, you slowly got out and dried yourself, dressing in your comfy clothes before crawling into your bed, ignoring the harsh rumbles in your stomach, begging for food, ignoring the dryness of your throat. You just wanted to close your eyes and never wake again. 
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It had been about five years since Max left you without a goodbye and a shattered heart. You spent the first year numb, barely living or feeling anything. Your friends and family didn’t see or hear from you, and when they did, they noticed that you barely took care of yourself. They tried convincing you to go to therapy, but you stared at them blankly. Barely even hearing a word they spoke to you.
The second year, you spent grieving. Your feelings came crashing down on you one day, and you couldn’t stop the dam from breaking. You’d cry whenever you saw something that reminded you of him, and you’d cry if you saw his name or someone who looked like him. You’d cry when you came home and saw things he had gifted you or the jumper he had left behind. The people in your life were still worried, but they were relieved you were at least feeling something now, taking more care of yourself than the previous year. 
And now we are here. For the remaining years, you became cold, heartless, and mean. You had built walls so damn high around your heart that no one could penetrate it. This is what caused the meeting you walked into. Your friends and family sat in your loungeroom as you walked into your apartment, staring at you worriedly. Throwing excuses that they care about you, they're worried about your well-being, and that you need to get help. You left, slamming the door behind you and heading to the closet bar. You sat on the stool and ordered a whiskey, needing something strong. You barely took notice of the man sitting beside you, rolling your eyes as other seats were available.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you drink whiskey.” You scowled, knowing who was now sitting beside you by the voice. Max smirked, leaning against the counter. “What, no hug?” You skulled the rest of your drink, slamming the glass down before slowly turning toward him, noticing the smug look on his face. 
You smirk, causing his brows to furrow as confusion takes over his features before you raise your fist and slam it into his face, hearing the crunch of his nose. You slam some bills down onto the counter and begin to walk off, exiting the bar to get as far away from that asshole as possible. You rolled your eyes, clenching your jaw, when you heard him following behind you. “Hey! Wait up!” You don’t. You just pick up your pace until he grabs hold of your arm and spins you, quickly raising his hands as you go to punch him again. “I just want to talk.”
“Talk?” You growl, stepping closer to the man. “Now you just want to talk? After five fucking years, you finally want to fucking talk?!” You scream, punching his chest until he grabs your wrists and stares at you. You huff, glaring at him. “I don’t want to talk, Max. I want you to fuck off. I want to return to five years ago and get the shattered pieces of my heart back.” You lick your lips, “I want to go back to before I met you so that I could have never met you and fallen for your stupid words and your stupid face. I want to be me again, but guess what? I can’t! Because I fell for you.”
He raises a brow, gulping as he continues to stare at you. He took in how beautiful you had gotten and how your sweet scent wafted through the air and into his nose. He missed you and feels it’s too late to make it up to you, but god, he will try his hardest too. “Are you done?” 
“Let me go, you asshole.” You growl. You wouldn’t let him back in. You couldn’t. You don’t know if you’ll survive another heartbreak and aren’t willing to try.
“Just listen to me, okay? I’ve been looking for you for five years.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at his words. “It’s true, goddamit, Y/n! Will you just fucking listen to me.” 
“Or what? What are you going to do, huh? What’s worse than you pretending to fucking love me and then leaving me without so much of a word?” Your glare sharpens, desperately wanting to get far away from him. 
“For fuck sake! I didn’t pretend to fucking love you! I still fucking love you! I didn’t have a fucking choice, okay?!” Your brows furrow, wondering what the fuck he means by that. Max sighs. “They were onto you and me. They threatened to hurt you if I met or even spoke to you. It took me four years to get away from them, to get them off my radar. You disappeared. I’ve been looking for you to ensure they didn’t do anything. Fuck! I didn’t want to fucking hurt you!” 
You shake your head, not wanting to believe him. You couldn’t. Sure, you still had some love for him, but you couldn’t put yourself through that again. Max cups your cheeks, looking into your eyes with his tear-filled ones. “Please, just give me a chance… Even as a friend, I just… Please, I need to have you in my life.” You shrug against him, stepping back and away from him. 
“I don’t know… Maybe in another life, but I don’t know if I can put myself through that again.” You swallow the sob that tries to pass your lips before turning away from him and walking away, holding back the tears that want to fall.
“Y/n! Please!” He cries vision blurred with tears as he watches you leave him like he left you. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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hughes86-43 · 28 days
Text
“You look really good in my clothes” | N. Hischier
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note - two anons sent in the same request so I just made it into this!
warnings - none! maybe some grammar errors!
You walked into your apartment, immediately closing the door and dropping your keys on the table nearby. You walked down the hallway and placed your several bags onto the dining table. You were so glad to be home from work, and you needed to get out of your work clothes as soon as possible.
You take a shower to get all the days work off of you, but you also just needed to get warm from how cold it was on your walk from work. You hop out of the shower and put on your robe and make your way to the walk-in closet you share with your boyfriend, Nico. However, you go to his side of the closet rather than yours.
You pick out one of your favorite hoodies of his, a cozy New Jersey devils one, and you grab a pair of sweatpants, they’re a bit loose on you but nothing a little tying up can’t fix. You place your robe back into the bathroom, finish getting ready for the night, and make your way to the kitchen to get dinner ready. Nico would be home soon enough from hanging out with some of his teammates.
Thirty minutes later, you’re standing facing the stove making some spaghetti, when you hear the front door open and close. Soon enough, you hear footsteps coming down the hallway. “Schatzi? Are you home?”
“In the kitchen, Neeks!” You call out to him.
You turn your attention back to the food on the stove and wait for him to come find you. After about two minutes, you feel a gaze on you, so you turn around. Nico is leaning against the doorway, running his eyes up and down your body. You know he has noticed that you’re wearing his clothes, even though you know he doesn’t mind, you turn a bit shy at his gaze.
“Schatzi, you look really good in my clothes,” he says, never once taking his eyes off of you.
“I know right? I might just keep taking them!” You laugh out as he comes walking closer to you.
He pulls you closer to him by the waistband of your his sweatpants, tugging them a bit since they’re too loose on you. You laugh as he pulls them up on you. He says, “I don’t mind if you do, but they may just fall down a bit!” You give him a peck on the lips and squeeze him tighter before turning around back to the stove before the food you’re making burns.
“I’m making spaghetti, we don’t have much else, so I hope that’s okay,” you say turning your head to see him already eating a piece of bread. “Hey! Dinner isn’t done, yet! No taking food!”
“I’m hungry! The guys didn’t feed me because they all seemed to eat before we went to hang out, so I starved the whole time.” He gives you puppy dog eyes so that you’ll let him get another piece of bread.
“Fine, one piece and that’s it until food is done!” When he turns around, you playfully smack his butt with the spatula. He twirls around so fast with a grin on his face.
Pointing his finger at you, he says, “Watch it, or you’ll never get to wear my clothes again!”
You put the spatula behind your back, and nod your head playfully. “Fine, fine! But we both know you wouldn’t do that, you love seeing me in your clothes so much!”
Nico laughs, “Yeah, you’re right I wouldn’t, I do love seeing you in my clothes a lot.”
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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year
Text
Little Backstabber
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Wolff!Reader
Warning: Angst, angst just pure angst, some fluff, Max is a Toto apologist, the reader is just hurting, Max has no respect for that
Requested: Yes/No
Rating: PG-13
Words: 2.3K
A/N: Hahahahaha I’m sorry (not really)
Part 1: Little Traitor
Pt.3 Little Heartbreaker
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Breaking News: Max Verstappen and Y/N Wolff Announce Their Engagement 
Toto stares out the window as Susie reads the newspaper out loud during breakfast. Laying the newspaper down, she gazes at her husband as he doesn't say a word, not even turning to acknowledge what she has read. 
"Toto, maybe tell her how happy you are for her?" Susie mumbles over her coffee cup, which has his eyes cut to her. 
"I called my daughter a slut; she doesn't want to hear from me. But, can you?" He asks, laying his glasses down as he rubs his eyes. 
"No, I will not." Susie snips, sitting her cup down harshly. 
He just nods, not preaching the topic anymore since it's been a strain between them. 
"Y/n? Angel? Where are you?" Max yells, seeing your boxes piled up in his place, but it doesn't make him angry; pride and other cavemen's feelings cover his mind as he stops seeing you in the kitchen. 
You danced in the kitchen wearing a Redbull shirt and dark blue panties, clearly, nothing else. Hair is thrown up, and you are just enjoying yourself.  
"God, I love you." He whispers, still not letting you know he is home. Home. It was weird for you to call this place home, but it felt right. 
You spin around but stop halfway to seeing the figure and scream. 
Max laughs, which calms you down immediately, knowing it is your fiance and not some stranger. You hold your chest, trying to calm down as he just reduces to giggles walking up to you, pulling your hands gently. You let him pull your body into his, both bodies molding perfectly in the hug as he whispers comforting words. 
"You scared me." You laugh, rubbing his back as his chest shakes yours with his laugh again. 
"Oh het spijt me, zat gewoon naar mijn bloedmooie verloofde te staren." (Oh I'm sorry, was just staring at my gorgeous fiancee) He laughs making you slap his chest. 
You've started to perfect your Dutch after Max proposed to you; you had always spoken Dutch, but not comfortably, and now you could converse with him. 
"The press released our engagement announcement today. It's in the newspapers." He mumbles, leaning back slightly to kiss your forehead. 
"Yes, I know. Susie sent her congratulations." Your tone sour. 
After everything with your father, you refused to go anywhere near Mercedes, even keeping away from Lewis and Geroge, who sided with your father. Your stepmother tried her best, but you didn't want to talk to them, much less think about them. Max makes a noise but doesn't say anything. There have been multiple arguments about your family and what to do regarding the wedding. You didn't want them there, no invitations or anything. Why should people who constantly let you down throughout your life be welcomed to the day of embracing your new one? 
"Don't, Max." You noted the noise and pulled away from him, returning to the counter and fixing lunch for the both of you. 
"I just......he's your father. He should be there when we're married." He groans, pulling his hair slightly with annoyance. 
"No." Is all you say, making Max drop the conversation and look over your shoulder at what you're preparing. He smiles, seeing the potatoes, onion, carrot, and cabbage beside the smoked sausages. 
"You're making Stamppot?" He asks, dropping his head to kiss your shoulder, able to see the tension fade away. 
"Yes, it's slightly chilly out, and I figured it'd be good and healthy since you can't eat certain foods." You mumble, trying to get around your irritation with Max. 
"I'm sorry." He whispers, touching your wrist and stopping you from chopping the cabbage. 
"Just, why can't you understand? You were able to work out your issues with your father, but mine? I can't. So stop." You pull your wrist away from his fingers and continue chopping the cabbage. 
Max nods his head and walks away, heading to his Sim. Hearing his footsteps enter the den, you drop your head and stare at the gorgeous ring on your finger. It's a stunning natural blue sapphire with a daisy oval shape, little diamonds aline it, with a gold band holding it all together. Max had the ring specially crafted for you; he had the idea of the ring for a while now. He knew you weren't big on diamonds, so he set on a sapphire. Cliche, but he picked one closest to the RB color, a final stamp to show people that you were his and you weren't going anywhere. 
You loved the ring, Max, and your little life together. It terrified you that if your father came back into your life, to your wedding. He'd ruin it all. Shaking off the evil thoughts, you get back to cooking the lunch. Time passes with you cooking and listening to Max curse the Sim, potting the Stamppot. You gently carry Max's bowel to him and sit it on the desk. 
Max pauses it immediately and turns around in his chair, looking up at you; from the look on his face, he clearly has something to say. 
"If it's about my father, keep it to yourself." You warn, Max automatically turning back around to the Sim and hitting play. 
"I think you'll regret it." Max mumbles, but you ignore the comment and head to the bedroom sitting on the bed. 
You reach under the bed, pull out this little black box, and open it, your father and your smiling face greeting you. You kept all your childhood pictures of your father or postcards from when he was traveling around the world. Each one had his familiar writing on the back, each word etched into your brain. Each praise, love, how much he loved you, missed you, couldn't wait to see you. Where did it all go wrong? Why did he leave you? Why weren't you worthy or made him proud enough? Why? 
Swallowing the tears, you put the lid back on and slide it back under the bed. Max stands at the cracked door, watching you hide the box, the one you thought he knew nothing of. He knew your father should be at the wedding, he knew that's what you wanted, but you couldn't see past your anger and hurt. Max understood, but he knew the best for the both of you would be inviting Toto to the wedding. 
Stepping away from the door, he grabs his phone and pulls up Toto's number. Don't ask why he has it. He just does. 
You're invited to the wedding, don't fuck up this opportunity; see you on July 1st at 7 pm at Hotel de Paris.
Max hits sent and watches as the text is read automatically. The 3 bubbles pop up and then go away. This continues for about 15 minutes until the text returns, making Max scuff slightly, but glad to see Toto answered. 
Thank you for the invite, we'll be there.
Clearly, Suise was helping the man answer the text, but in the end, Toto gave his curt answer, and that was that. Max wasn't going to tell you what he had done, but he knew that you'd come around in time for the wedding and invite Toto and Suise, but it was his secret for now. Of course, telling Toto you had no idea he was invited doesn't occur to him, but he'll worry about that later. 
"Baby?" Max yells down the hall, and you emerge quickly, worried something is wrong. 
"What?" You ask, looking around the apartment, ready for an issue, but all he sees is Max sitting on the couch. 
"I apologize. I know the relationship with your father isn't like mine, and I should leave it be, and I will. No more talk about it. I'll let you go at your own pace. But just know, if we have kids, he needs a chance, and that's all I'm saying on the topic." Max sighs, catching his breath from his little rant. 
"I love you." You whisper, walking over and kissing him. Max smiles and pulls you down, having you lay on top of him. 
At this moment, everything was perfect, until 4 weeks later. 
You're walking home when you see a present sitting at your door, you weren't expecting a package so you look at the address and see it was from Susie. Sighing, you lean down and pick it up. Shocked by the weight, you stumble into the place and set it on the coffee table. Opening the box, you pull out the brown paper and freeze, seeing what is in the box. 
There was a transparent glass collage of you and Max lined with your favorite flowers, and on the bottom were gold words engraved. 
If I were the moon, I would want you to be my night
You stare at the words, knowing those words deeply. Your father always wrote quotes on the back of your postcards. This was the last quote he wrote you before it all fell apart. You pick up one of the smaller boxes with shaky hands and open it. You can't help the tears that start to fall. 
It was this small tiara, but not any tiara. It was a baroque crystal pearl tiara with very two rows of diamonds; on the top, pearls sat on top. It was gorgeous, but you felt your inner child's heartbreak. He remembered. When you were younger, you and your father walked past this old antique boutique in the front window and sat this same tiara; it was crazy expensive. You didn't even tell Toto that you wanted the tiara; you just stared at it and then kept walking down the street. But he did remember, after dropping you off at your mother's, he circled back and bought it. He kept it for the day you'd get married and thought he would hand it to you in person, telling you how much he loved you and was proud of the woman you've become, but instead.....he had to send it to you through a box. 
Sitting down, you grab the last box, opening it as a watch for Max. On the back was the first date you two ever had. But, the inscription was in Toto's handwriting. How he knew it that date was beyond your knowledge. Something catches your eye, making you sit the watch down to pick it up. It was a card. 
Opening the card, you scan the words, but one sentence catches your attention. 
Thank you for the invitation, we can't wait to see you and Y/n tie the knot. Much love from Susie and Toto
You stare at the words before they dawn on you. Max. He invited them. After you told him you didn't want them there, he still asked them and did it without notifying you. Time passed by you, and nothing made you move until you heard Max's keys in the door.  
"Hey love, I'm home!" Max called, having a great day. He couldn't wait to see you. 
Walking into the living room, he smiles brightly seeing you but stops seeing the emotionless look on your face. He looks at the box and then back to you before you slam the card down, finally looking at him. 
"You bastard." You whisper, shaking your head. You feel this hot rage boiling inside you, but your throat gets tighter and tighter with each passing of time. 
"He's your father." He whispers, knowing what the box means. Toto must've sent a gift or something and probably told you on a card that he was invited. 
"He LEFT ME!" You scream, moving away from the box to stand before Max. 
"You both left each other! Why can't you see that he's been trying!" Max snaps, tired of this back-and-forth argument. 
"I was 14. What do you want from me, Max? He was the adult; he should've tried. It's not my job!" You yell, not wanting to talk about this anymore. 
"When he reached out to you, we were 16, we had just had our first date, and he called you. You didn't answer the phone and said you'd call him back. But you never did. That showed him you didn't care anymore. Why would he try with someone who didn't even try either." Max argues. This shocks you. How could someone who not even 6 months ago defend you against your father was now being his most prominent advocate. 
"Be..because I was a kid." You retort, lost for words. 
"See, you can't tell me why you're still angry at him. We're adults, Y/n, let the past be the past." Max sighs, running his fingers through his hair before reaching for you. 
You pull away from his reach; hurt and rejection shatter Max's face as he slowly drops his arms. You take a few deep breaths, fiddling with the ring. Max watches, panic overtaking any sense he has. 
"Don't, don't do this." He whispers, staring at the ring on your finger. 
"How can I marry someone who doesn't respect my wishes, someone who defends the man who called me a slut. The person who made me feel less of myself my entire life, and here the person who is supposed to protect, stand by me, and love me, defends them. How can I marry you after this?" You ask, pulling the ring off. 
"No, please, Y/n, don't." Max breaks. He can't keep it together anymore as he watches you sit the ring before him. Tears slide down his face as he watches you grab your shoes and keys. 
"Don't leave me, don't please. Not again." He whispers, grabbing you as you try to hide your own tears. 
"You betrayed me." You whisper, pulling yourself out of his hold and walking out the door. As you close the door, all you hear is a scream and glass shattering as you walk away from the love of your life. 
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Hai! Can i pls request maybe a muzan x reader where Yandere Muzan on his way to kidnapped the reader ( reader lives in the forest) and then he get there, he see reader front and back Garden full with the Blue Spider Lily flowers?
Yandere Muzan Kibutsuji
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Well Muzan certainly wouldn't be happy now.
He had just arrived to kidnap you.
You had clearly overstepped your authority as his partner pet and chatted to other people.
And this really doesn't work.
Muzan does not want to share his "property" with others.
And you have indeed broken his rules.
Rules you don't even know about.
And now it's time to fix it.
Muzan was coming to kidnap you.
He does it at night (of course).
This would be the first time he sees your home.
It was a very cloudy day in the middle of the forest.
Muzan knew that he would be busy at night so that's why he decided to pick you up during the day.
He had sent lower demons to investigate the surroundings of your home so he knew it was safe for this time.
What he didn't know, however, was what kind of flowers grow in your yard.
Muzan would be excited when he saw them for the first time.
He always knew that you have something useful...
That's why he would wait at your house for the sun to set so he could pick the flowers before taking you with him.
Muzan would not be excited to see the flowers die as soon as the sun has set.
Guess who gets to explain to him how those flowers work?
Oh yes you.
And Muzan certainly wouldn't be thrilled to learn that it will be at least a year before those flowers bloom again.
You will definitely get punished for this... because why not.
A fair relationship you have... *Sarcasm*
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missmonsters2 · 7 months
Note
Hey are you taking requests? If so could you maybe do a werewolf reader imprinting on Wanda to keep her protected not realizing that in doing so wanda has now been made aware of how you feel for her through the connection you’ve now forged? Please
If you’re not taking requests then that’s okay I thank you for all the ones you’ve written and I’ve read ☺️
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Warnings: none. maybe secretlyneedy!reader.
Note: hnngg. no words.
Count: < 1k
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Wanda rubbed her neck absentmindedly. The area you bit her was still tender, stirring when anything even grazed it. 
The feeling was severe, like a grave reminder of what you have shackled them to in return for keeping Wanda safe. It was sudden, but Wanda couldn't see herself surviving the attack despite her magic. 
And, well, it warded off other werewolves. 
Still, Wanda felt guilty for making you enter into something you've always been clear you didn't want. 
Imprinting was a choice in the way you could choose whether or not to bite someone to bond with. You were adamant that it wasn't something you wanted, but now, you'd never really have the choice if you found someone to love. 
You've always been stiff around Wanda. Always willing to defend her in battle or help her when she needed it, but stoic. You always commented about her dark circles or messy hair, which occasionally made Wanda somewhat self-conscious. 
It was just—ill-matched. 
And now, you've been avoiding her. 
The bite seemed to be getting tenderer the longer you stayed away. 
You must hate her.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Mine.
Wanda felt strange today. She was slightly uncomfortable—nervous, really, with you lingering wherever she was. Wanda knew it was because you knew that being apart too long would affect the bond with it being so new, so you were probably also gritting your teeth through this. 
Yet, Wanda's been shifting the last couple of hours. Her body feels—weird. Something overwhelming was wafting through her, akin to a glass that was too full. 
"Are you hungry?" You asked as you got up. 
"Uh," Wanda's toes curled. "A little."
You didn't reply to her answer as you grabbed a few things from the fridge and started prepping. 
"Do you need help?" Wanda got up and walked to you, sitting at the kitchen island. 
You looked up, locking eyes with her.
Pretty. 
Wanda clenched her teeth and blushed. 
Your nose flared a little, only causing Wanda to blush harder. 
Mine.
You looked away.
This was the strange, uncomfortable feeling. 
Wanda didn't know how the bond exactly worked. It wasn't something you discussed, and Wanda's been too nervous to ask. She knew the conversation would need to happen soon, but asking seemed so—ludicrous. 
Wanda felt things, intense things, every time she looked at you. Things would suddenly enter her mind like pretty, mine, never going to hurt you, happy, so happy—it was overwhelming. 
But whenever Wanda looked at you, you looked the same as ever. 
Stoic.
Intense but guarded eyes. 
It only ever happened when you were around.
It was curious, that's all.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Once you explained the bond to Wanda, strangely skirting around certain elements, Wanda understood. 
There's an aspect of sharing that could be opened both ways, but it could also be shut, which you were doing.
Or so you thought. 
It was just a test at first. 
Wanda just wanted to know.
So, she held your hand.
You stiffened, tensing at the feel of her palm and fingers.
But you quietly allowed it. 
You still commented about her dark circles and messy hair, but now Wanda could feel the concern behind it. She could feel the desperation to help and fix it. 
You always took what Wanda gave, greedily appreciating it, just toeing the line for more. If Wanda held your hand, you caressed her palm and her fingers. Your fingers were soft, and when you stroked her inner wrist, it sent tingles throughout her body. 
The hand massages you gave were too erogenous. 
Did Wanda shackle you to something you didn't want, or had she saved you from condemning yourself to solitary?
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Wanda only knew for sure when she kissed you.
You tried to back away at first, but Wanda pulled you closer.
"I want this," Wanda mumbled against your lips. " I want you."
And then, it was like whatever you held back broke out with a vengeance. 
You kissed her over and over, kissing her hungrily like you were starved. You pulled her close, tense and tight, like you were afraid she would disappear. 
And then, you started talking.
"Mine," you kiss. "So pretty."
It caught Wanda off guard.
"Mine. You're so perfect." Your hands were doing things to her again. "I'll keep you safe, I swear. I'm so happy. So, so happy," you said between kisses, and Wanda is trying to not get swept up by you.
"Hey," Wanda whispers, and you kiss her again. "Hey, it's okay."
It's consoling, the way she says it, and you pause to look at her, and whatever wall you put up against the bond falls, and Wanda's overwhelmed again.
It was like when she first felt strange, and now she knew it was you. You couldn't even keep up a wall to avoid sharing your feelings because it was bleeding through. 
"I'm sorry," you bury your face into her neck, "but you didn't know and I need you to know."
"I know," Wanda massages the back of your neck, feeling her bite warm. "You're not very good at hiding."
You pulled back to look at Wanda again, assessing her face.
Stoic, but Wanda knew better now.
It was a raw, unrelenting fire.
You tangle your fingers in her messy hair. "So pretty," you muttered again before pulling her close, and Wanda enjoyed the burn. 
534 notes · View notes
crosshairlovebot · 7 months
Text
birthday revelations / crosshair x gn!reader
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pairing: crosshair x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has a nickname.
description: crosshair discovers it's your birthday, and in an effort to try and understand birthdays, he gets you a gift.
word count: 3,793
warnings: none. crosshair ovethinks a lot
Another request! Maybe not technically a request, but @starrylothcat sent in an ask for an ask prompt and said it would be nice to see me write a fic where crosshair buys a gift for the reader for their birthday or christmas and it's been stuck in my head since! so here you go! i hope i did it justice!
also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3
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Crosshair didn’t like crowds. He gritted his teeth as he walked alone through the market on Sorgan, sidestepping people as they entered his path. It was noisy, but that didn’t bother him so much. Vendors called out to passersby, promoting their various goods for purchase with enthusiasm. Voices chattered and laughed. The smell of food wafted through Crosshair’s nose and his stomach tightened with hunger. Rations were poor choices compared to the sizzling of flavourful meat on grills, but he didn’t have enough credits to buy himself something to eat.
He only had enough to buy something for you.
He had been helping Tech with cataloguing files when he saw one on their nat-born medic. You had joined Clone Force 99 just over half a standard cycle ago with your plucky yet kind attitude, falling into the group dynamic easier than Crosshair had thought. Sure, it had taken some adjustment for him and his brothers to become used to another presence they had not grown up with, but it was inevitable you would eventually find your place in the team. You were hardworking, strong and compassionate. You paid attention to each of his brothers, giving them your undivided focus during conversation and indulging them in questions about what they were doing or their chosen skill. He had watched you talk with Tech about data decryption, Wrecker about proton-based explosives, Hunter about tracking strategies, Echo about ARC trooper training, and of course, him about sharpshooting.
He recalled the way you sat next to him for the first time on his bunk during their time in Hyperspace. He had disassembled part of his Firepuncher rifle, readjusting the scope and the barrel after it had unexpectedly jammed on their previous mission. He’d been annoyed – his prized weapon never faltered, and he was trying to figure out why it had failed on him when the thin mattress dipped next to him, and you asked what he was doing. When he’d given a particularly surly response, you nodded and then just continued to watch him. His eyes had slid to you.
“Can I help you with anything else?” He hadn’t meant it to sound so icy, but he had been frustrated with this rifle, with himself.
“Can you…explain what you’re doing?” you had asked hopefully.
He had looked at you sceptically. “Why?”
You just shrugged. “It looks interesting.”
He had studied your expression, trying to discern if you were being genuine. But you were. You always were with things like this.
So, he explained what he was doing, answered your questions and by the time his weapon was fixed, he didn’t even really remember his initial annoyance. You had smiled at him, your mouth stretching in a way that made your eyes light up. He felt a little flicker of something in his stomach before it was promptly extinguished.
Since then, you have spent time with him like that more often. Not just when he was cleaning his rifle, but other things. Like throwing Lula back and forth across the bunks as you both talked, joking about things that happened on missions. Sharing looks over briefings. Stealing Wrecker’s snacks.
But his favourite time with you was drawing on your datapad and trying to guess what the other was drawing. He had learnt you liked to draw and enjoyed drawing out something other than a medical diagram. He felt a sense of pride in making you laugh so hard you cried with his silly caricatures during long hyperspace trips. Exaggerated doodles of his brothers, tookas and the like, a portrait of you with a funny expression. You liked to draw him with a smile too big for his face, chuckling as you drew and then collapsing into laughter when you showed him. It always made the thing in his stomach flicker.
He really liked having you around.
So, when he came across your file when helping Tech, he couldn’t help but open it. You had told them all any information they had asked for, and information they had not. There wasn’t really anything you kept secret. But when he saw your ID holo looking particularly embarrassing: with wide eyes and a half-formed expression – like you were taken off guard by the photo, the corner of his mouth twisted up in an impish smirk.
He had intended to tease you about it; set the holo to the show on every Marauder screen so it was everywhere.
He opened the file to take a copy of the holo when he spotted details about your age and date of birth.
He frowned at the date. “Tech, what is today’s galactic date?”
Tech looked up from his datapad, adjusting his goggles before rattling off the date. “Why?”
He said your name before telling him, “It’s their birthday tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Tech blinked.
Age and birthdays were almost foreign concepts to clones. With accelerated aging and growing in a capsule, they didn’t really matter to them. Awkward to calculate, they weren’t celebrated. Crosshair had no idea when he had been ‘birthed’ or decanted, and if the Kaminoans documented such dates, then it was classified information. He knew his chronological age, but his biological age was a little murky. He knew he was a “mature clone”, however with the accelerated aging, he didn’t know where exactly he stood. None of their brothers knew any of these details. It was normal for them.
He read the date and your age. What would it be like to be so sure of something like that? To be sure of the parts that made up who you were?
Crosshair cleared his throat and closed the file without even copying the ID holo. He frowned to himself. Maybe he should’ve asked you about it before, but birthdays weren’t a part of his world, so he hadn’t thought to. But they were important to nat-borns, weren’t they? At least that’s what they’d all been told during their training modules.
When he lay in his bunk that night, he circled his mind for all he knew about birthday traditions. Gatherings. Food. Gifts. Would you like all that? Did you like all that? You seemed like you would. He didn’t know if it was something he would enjoy if he had a birthday…it didn’t really seem like his thing, but maybe he would. He would never know. He thought that Wrecker might be the only one who would enjoy a birthday. Maybe Echo too if you did it right. Same with Hunter.
But you hadn’t said anything about your birthday.
He had tossed and turned. You were part of their squad. You cared. Listened. Laughed. Did you not feel you could share the date with them? He didn’t know, and a part of him felt a little hurt that you might not feel you could. Were you not friends? Crosshair didn’t have many friends, but he knew they were supposed to tell each other things.
He turned again, crossing his arms against his chest as he faced the wall. Why did he even care? If you didn’t want to tell him it was your birthday, fine. He wouldn’t mention it.
He squeezed his eyes shut before sitting up on his elbows and craned his head to see you sleeping in your bunk. Through the darkness, his enhanced eyes saw you curled in yourself, and your nose twitched as you breathed deep and evenly. Something in his chest pinched. He sighed before laying back down and pulling the thin blanket over his head.
Now, as he found himself in this market the next day, he wondered what he was even doing here.
Once they had landed on Sorgan, they completed their mission easily with no complications. But Crosshair was still distracted by your birthday. You hadn’t even said anything when everyone woke up this morning. Just acted like it was any other day. You had just smiled at him as you tucked into a ration bar, saying good morning before throwing one to him to eat.
It puzzled him.
When you all started walking back to the Marauder after the mission, Hunter could tell something was up with him, nudging his shoulder.
“You alright?”
Crosshair had scowled at his brother. “…Yes.”
“You look deep in thought,” Hunter pointed out, falling into step with him.
Crosshair broke his gaze and looked away, back towards where they came, to the village they had just liberated. The thought had barely formed before he said, “Do we have time before the next mission?”
Hunter’s surprise showed in his voice. “We have a couple of hours, why?”
“I’ll be back later,” Crosshair walked off in the direction of the village before Hunter could say anything. His long legs carried him to the marketplace, where he stood now amongst the bustling bodies.
He just couldn’t get your birthday out of his stupid head; that you hadn’t said anything because clones didn’t celebrate birthdays. Just because he didn’t understand them, doesn’t mean he couldn’t try…for you.
He started combing through the vendors, most of which were finishing up resetting their stands after they fled suddenly several days prior. He moved from stall to stall, gazing at the different items over people's heads. Kriff, what were you even supposed to buy people for birthdays? Something they needed? Something they wanted? It was all a little overwhelming. And Crosshair didn’t get overwhelmed.
“Looking for something in particular, my friend?”
Crosshair startled and looked up to see the vendor, a greying man with a wrinkled face, horns protruding from his forehead and curled up in an elegant spiral shape.
Crosshair frowned, clearing his throat. “It’s…my friend's birthday today.”
The man’s face lit up. “Wonderful! Birthdays are special.”
Crosshair’s mouth tightened as the man continued to speak. “What were you thinking of gifting them?”
The hairs on Crosshair’s neck stood up with nerves. “I…I don’t know.”
The man’s face lit up. “Perhaps I can help.”
The man then went through the different items at his stand. He held up scarves, strings of beads, and handmade pottery. Crosshair thought they were all nice enough, but he wasn’t swimming in credits. And none of the items really felt like you. The vendor was patient, more patient than he should’ve been. Either he really wanted to help or was desperate for a sale in a competitive marketplace.
After many minutes and many items, Crosshair felt himself gradually stiffening, becoming more and more on edge and uncomfortable. He felt so out of his depth. He was always so sure of everything, and trying to do this thing he had no experience in, made him more vulnerable than he had in a long time. It was not a feeling he felt comfortable with. Never had been.
And as much as he liked you, maybe this was all a stupid idea. You hadn’t mentioned your birthday for a reason. He shouldn’t bring it up. If he did, he’d have to explain how he found out…and he didn’t want to go through that awkwardness. He was about to open his mouth and tell the over-enthusiastic vendor: thank you, but he wouldn’t bother with a gift, when the vendor clapped his hands loudly, making Crosshair jump.
“I may have something back here, hold on,” he said as he turned away to rifle noisily through a crate behind him.
Crosshair felt his fist curl at his sides, and this should’ve been his opening to slide away unnoticed until he looked down and saw a brown leather book. Crosshair halted and lifted a gloved hand to the soft worn cover, running his fingers over the engravings in the bound leather. He opened the cover, seeing it was a blank notebook, and it had a writing implement tucked into the spine. Not many people recorded things the traditional way anymore; datapads were much more efficient and stored more information than the pages of a notebook. He flicked through the pages, fanning them with his thumb. The dust drifted up and it was a smell he didn’t recognise, but he supposed it was the smell of paper.
“That’s a good choice.”
Crosshair retracted his hand as if he was a cadet being scolded, and looked up at the vendor, who held an oversized pot that would break the second it came aboard the Marauder.
“That would be a perfect gift,” the vendor continued, nodding at the notebook.
Crosshair looked at him before picking up the notebook – more surely this time, and turned it over in his hands. He imagined you in your bunk, scribbling in it at night with a torch in one hand. He imagined you keeping it under your pillow for safekeeping. He imagined you doodling in it, showing him your drawings with that smile on your face. He imagined drawing in it with you. The corner of his mouth twitched upward.
“How much?” Crosshair asked.
“It’s yours.”
Crosshair’s head snapped towards the vendor. “What?”
The vendor waved him away. “Take it.”
Crosshair blinked, confused. “…I have to pay you.”
“No, you don’t. I’ve been trying to sell that for years. You’d be doing me a favour.”
Crosshair furrowed his brow. “…Isn’t the customer supposed to be right?”
The vendor barked out a laugh. “Not this time, my friend.”
Crosshair dug into his pocket anyway and pulled out half the credits. “For your patience…at least.”
The vendor chuckled and took them. “Thank you. I hope your friend likes it.”
Crosshair didn’t respond as the man turned away, placing the pot down before calling out to other marketgoers, trying to entice them.
Crosshair walked back through the market, the notebook feeling heavy in his hand. Leaving the village, he made his way back to the Marauder, thoughts swimming in his head.
Kriff, what if you hated it? Or thought it was stupid? What if all his knowledge on birthdays was completely inaccurate and you would think him strange for giving you something? Or what if you just thought he was weird for getting you something at all?
Crosshair’s grip on the notebook tightened. He just wanted to do something nice. Like you always did for them. But this is why he avoided it. It was so vulnerable being nice. Being nice left you open for hurt, open for aching. It was much easier to keep it at bay, to restrict it. To hide it behind actions inconspicuously where it wasn’t out in the open. Being so open with it for you…he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it scared him. The doubt crept in. Crosshair had conviction and confidence, and he wasn’t used to it wavering like this.
He was just about ready to throw the notebook into a bush and never speak of it again when he heard your voice ring out from the steps of the Marauder.
“Crosshair!”
You placed your datapad down and ran over to him. He hid the notebook behind his back with both hands, gripping it so hard he knew his knuckles would be white as you approached him with a smile.
“Hey,” he said, hoping he sounded normal.
“Where’d you go? You disappeared after the mission.”
“I was just…looking for something,” he said carefully. Dank farrik, how was he supposed to do this? He thought he might just leave it on your bunk when you were distracted with a little note written inside the cover saying, ‘Happy Birthday’. That way he could avoid your reaction when you saw it. He didn’t even know how to get into the Marauder with it now that you were here in front of him.
You tilted your head with a quizzical smile. “Looking for something?”
Crosshair nodded. “I couldn’t find it,” he lied.
“Oh…okay,” you looked at him weirdly. Would you look at him like that when you saw his gift?
Crosshair nodded to the Marauder, desperate to get on board and stow the notebook away until he could leave it on your bunk. “Should we go inside?”
You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. “What are you hiding?”
“I’m not hiding anything, meshurok,” he lied, his grip tightening again.
“Yes, you are,” you sidestepped him to look behind him and he leapt out of the way. You grinned. “You are! What are you hiding, Cross? Why can’t I see?” you tried to chase him around, but Crosshair kept angling himself away. Kriff, he had never felt so stupid in his whole life.
“It’s nothing. Get your meddling hands away from me, you di’kut,” he walked backwards in a circle, his face and neck hot.
“Crosshair,” you chided, smiling at him. “Come on, is it really that bad?”
“Go away,” he grumbled, hands aching from holding the damned notebook so tight.
“Crosshair,” you said his name again, and your face was stretched in that playful grin that he’d unwillingly memorised. That thing in his stomach flickered again.
Then he remembered how you didn’t tell him about your birthday. And how you were friends, but you didn’t say anything about it. And how he had this unexplainable feeling he couldn’t name sitting in his stomach that compelled him to go to a village market and pick out a stupid gift for a birthday tradition he didn’t even understand just to do something nice for you the way you did for him and his brothers.
Crosshair’s expression flared and he shoved the notebook at your chest. You startled at your hand came up to grab it, sliding against his like a searing snake. He pulled his hand back and balled both at his sides as he gritted out, “Happy birthday.”
All he saw was your eyes were wide before he stalked off, almost stomping his way to the Marauder. His face burned, and embarrassment flooded his body. He felt so stupid, and he hated feeling stupid. He hated the feeling of being on the end of someone’s judgement. He hated knowing that he’d just been forced to make himself vulnerable. But mostly, he hated the feeling of you not trusting him with what was supposed to be the important parts of you.
“Crosshair!”
Your voice came from behind him, but he didn’t turn around. He was already planning different ways he could avoid you. He was going to lock himself in the ‘fresher until the next mission and make sure Hunter placed him on watch at opposite times to you. Whatever it took. His heart panged. You were one of the only people outside his brothers he liked. He would mourn the shared jokes and laughter, and time spent with you, knowing it couldn’t happen anymore.
“Crosshair, wait.”
He felt a hand on his arm pull him back. He swayed backwards, but he let you stop him. He avoided your gaze, scowl burning an outline in his brow as he stared off into the middle distance. Your hand stayed on his arm, and he felt it through the plastoid wrapped around his forearm, squeezing him there. It felt like part of him, and that made him feel both warm with content and spiked with anger simultaneously.
“Cross, please look at me,” your voice said quietly, and his heart squeezed. He slowly moved his gaze, looking down, then sliding his eyes to your bare hand on his arm before they lifted to your face. Your brows were slanted downwards, looking at him with such softness in your eyes he felt the flickering in his chest again.
“How did you…” your voice was soft and trailed off, notebook in your other hand.
“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed with gritted words.
He felt your hand flex with your grip. “It does to me.”
He studied your face carefully before saying, “…I was helping Tech with cataloguing his files. I saw your birthday in yours.”
You continued looking at him with an indecipherable gaze and moved your hand slowly from his arm to his wrist, your bare fingertips brushing his gloves. You gently grazed his fingers as you let his hand drop softly. He watched you as you inspected the book, hands turning it over, fanning through the pages. He studied your expression, trying to discern what you thought, feeling anxiety grow in his stomach, his throat tightening. He felt something hot poke inside him as he watched your mouth turn up into a smile as you gazed at his gift.
“I’ve been so busy this year that I forgot about my birthday.”
Crosshair hoped he hid his surprise. You not telling him about your birthday…it was never about him. Of course, you had forgotten. The past six cycles had been a whirlwind for you trying to adjust to a soldier’s lifestyle, countless missions and trying to fit in with his brothers. His face burned again. He was a fool.
You looked up at him, a smirk itching the corners of your mouth. “Been too busy keeping you boys in line.”
Crosshair scoffed lightly, letting a puff of breath out of his nose. Your smile widened.
“This is a beautiful gift, Cross. Thank you for getting it for me,” you place your hand on his arm again, squeezing gently to show your appreciation He felt his heart lift and his cheeks redden, but this time, not in embarrassment.
He nodded at you. “I’m…glad you like it. I don’t have much experience with birthdays.”
Your smile touched the edges of your eyes. “That’s what makes it even more special.”
You reached up on your tip toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, embracing him. Crosshair stiffened in shock and surprise before he slowly wrapped his arms around your torso. His fingers grazed your sides, and there was something wildly comforting about holding you like this. He could feel the side of your face pressed into his neck, just below his ear, and your breath tickled the sliver of open skin not covered by his blacks. You were so warm. He felt you squeeze him gently and he didn’t stop himself from squeezing back.
You were his best friend, after all.
You pulled away, but not before you cupped his face and placed a kiss on his cheek. Crosshair flinched and his eyes widened as you lowered yourself back down on flat feet with one of the most joyful smiles he’d ever seen gracing your face. The action had surprised him more than anything else had.
“I’m going to show everyone what you got me,” you said before running off towards the Marauder.
“No, don’t, they’ll—” Crosshair started but you were already halfway up the gangplank. His brothers’ teasing was going to be ruthless.
He sighed, shaking his head before following you, that thing flickering in his chest. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t try to extinguish it.
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banner art by @vimse
mando'a / meshurok = gemstone thank you for reading! i did find this one slightly challenging bc it's very much crosshair in his head and i tried to write him how i thought he would react to a situation like this, but if it's a little OOC, i apologise! but i think he would react like this if someone he cared about didn't tell him something important about them; someone who was his friend and who he liked very much. i think he'd be kinda mad and hurt but he cares too much to not do anything at all. i have more gen requests on the way, so stay tuned if you're interested! <3
tags @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @snarky-mans-gf @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @rexamongthestars @r2d2staser @bluebird-dreams @pb-jellybeans @a-streakofblue @theawkwardartist12 @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo
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492 notes · View notes
letsgetrowdy43 · 8 months
Text
Oh captain, my captain ☆—
request: Quinn telling Honey he’s captain
Who ever sent this in ILY!!! cause I've been dying to talk about them but no one ever wants to talk about them...
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Au Masterlist!!
Honey and Quinn had barely seen each other since they arrived back in Vancouver, she understood, the offseason had been so relaxing and calm so the entrance back into the regular season meant that intense training would be starting up again.
Baby Warren babbled on his soft foam mat, drool all down his chest as his mum made his first bottle of the day. Her hips swayed along to the music playing on the radio, a grin on her lips as she finished brewing her second coffee of the morning. The music ended and the radio hosts started to ramble about the weather as she grabbed the year-old up off of the floor to put him in her high chair, a bottle in her hands and a little plate of sliced blueberries in her hand just in case he was still hungry.
The grin on Honey's face grew as she watched Quinn walk down the stairs in a dress shirt and pants, the collar undone as she fixed the cuffs of his sleeves. Her smirk doubled in size as he planted himself in front of her, a shy smile on his face as her hands ran over the soft fabric that covered his chest, landing on the buttons of his collar, doing them up for him. She stood on her tiptoes to place a messy open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, a shy smile appearing on his face as he abandoned the task at hand to grab her by the waist.
"You look so sexy, all dressed up," she grinned, he dipped down to place a slow kiss on her lips, both their cheeks a vibrant shade of red as she pulled away with furrowed brows, "Wait, why are you dressed up, I thought you were just training?" His lips formed a straight line, "I have a surprise," he grinned as her face softened, a look of wonder taking over her demeanour.
She fluffed up his hair, his thumbs running over the exposed skin of her torso, a grin taking form on his lips as he looked down to see her in her kinda revealing pyjamas shorts and an old Canuck shirt from his rookie year, the fabric of the neck stretched to expose her collarbone and shoulder. "Remember last weekend, when mom and dad came up to visit and the owners of the Canucks took us out to dinner?" she nodded and then let out a hiss of pain as Warren threw his bottle at the back of her legs, an apologetic look took place on her face as she grabbed their son from his high chair. "Sorry," she mumbled as Quinn took his son out of her arms and kissed his cheek, a giggle leaving Warren's mouth at the attention he was now receiving, "I do remember that though, it was nice."
Warren's hands gripped at his father's freshly styled hair, a laugh leaving Quinn's mouth as he wrangled his curls out of the baby's grip, "Q, I love you, but you're making me anxious," Honey said, her hand fixing his hair once again and then she positioned his gaze to look her in the eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled, She motioned for him to spit it out, "Sorry, so we went to dinner and then later that night I got a call, and they asked me to be the captain, I was gonna-" she stopped his explanation and slammed her lips onto his. "Oh my god Q," she hugged him, placing kisses all over his face out of excitement.
"I don't even know what to say," She stopped kissing him and smiled at his shy grin. He looks at his smiley son and then back up at his wife, "I would've been okay with a 'congrats'" he shrugged. she shook her head at his stupid suggestion, "Dinner, maybe Brock can watch him, me and you dinner, with a nice dress," her eyebrows raised as Quinn nodded. "Or, we ask Brock to take him for the night, we order in, wine, no dress, no nothing, and-" he was cut off with a kiss as he chuckled into her excitement-fuelled kisses.
"Sounds perfect," she winked and snatched their son right out of his hands to feed him some blueberries, "You're gonna be late if you don't finish getting ready and get out the door," she motioned over to the clock on the stove, he kissed her one last time, and then placed a kiss to his son's cheek before he left to retrieve his suit jacket.
She smiled softly and placed Warren back into his high chair to give him the sliced blueberries, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as Quinn made his way to the door, "I'll be home early," he grinned and toed on his leather dress shoes, she turned to him nodding as he walked over one last time. she placed the plate away from her son, a grin on her face as her arms wrapped around his neck placing a slow kiss to his lips as he grinned into the long kiss.
"You're gonna be late," she mumbled against his mouth, as he pulled away. "I know, I know," he fixed the collar of his suit and his hair, a flustered smile on his face as he looked down to a blueberry-covered Warren who was waving him goodbye, "bye bud," he said wiping the mushed up fruit off of his son's cheek.
"Make us proud," she grinned, "Captain," the word sounded sultry rolling off of her tongue, Quinn grew flustered as he kissed her cheek and made a bee-line straight for the door.
Let's just say this is the night that Hayden is conceived...
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spacesurfing · 2 years
Note
❛ would you like to go somewhere a little more private? ❜ with Anakin? (A girl with a big metal hand kink as I have one as well)
-- I love the metal hand as well, it's just so yummy. Thank you for sending in a request!!
•--•
Good Resolutions
Anakin Skywalker x Reader Smut
Summary: You and Anakin never found a way to get along. With your feuds and the war occupying your minds, you were convinced Anakin Skywalker only cared about himself. So maybe you should try as well. And you did.
Warnings: Anakin does make fun of the reader!!, violence, injury, blood, Metal hand kink, Dom!Anakin, brat tamer!Anakin, rough sex, p in v, oral (m receiving), slight humiliation, slight praise kink, inappropriate use of the force, hair pulling, soft ending :)
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GIF NOT MINE!!
•--•
You didn't want this war. It had caused pain to everyone; to you, to Obi-Wan, to the clones that knew nothing more than fighting and to the civilians that had to endure it all. You felt horrible for all of the factors in this war. It had caused yourself grief and stress, things that the Jedi were forbid of, but you never understood how the Jedi just saying, "Hey, just don't feel anything and you can stay in our cult of magicians!" would fix any of your emotions from straining against your mind.
And him. Oh him. If you weren't a Jedi, you would've ripped Skywalker's face apart. You hated him, more than you had hated anything. There were only few things you let yourself hate, and one of them was no doubt him. He crawled under your skin, biting at you, irritating you. And the council always thought it was a good idea to bring you two together. In their eyes, the more you had to see him, the more you two "got along" (and the less they had to deal with his bullshit). And through the war process, you hated him even more.
The flirting, oh you couldn't stand the flirting. You didn't dare say anything to the council, you didn't wanna hear about your snitching from him everytime you walked beside him. You'd rather the unnerving silence that was always there till he wanted to brush his gloved hand against your arm, move a piece of loose hair from your face, have the audacity to correct your stances everytime you found yourself in battle. The way he called you 'pretty girl' whenever it was just you and him. You fucking hated everything about him and his stupid, handsome face.
He was really at your throat this whole week though. You'd been sent to Geonosis, another secret imperial base had been made for them to perform their various meetings. It also was supposedly a site for explosives construction on their half. So, you were happy that meant not blowing something to smithereens due to the possibility of very fatal explosives.
As the 501st communicated with your battalion of calm soldiers, you had to stand beside the rat they assigned you to help. You wished that Rex would find a question for you, so you could talk to him instead. You walked in silence with Skywalker, only few of your most skilled men behind you - Commander Tank, Reaper, Mitch, Magma and Cub.
Your men talked to you a lot, they loved jokes and sarcasm, but they didn't like bothering their General, especially when you were next to the man you hated more than anything - in those moments your shoulders were so tense your men thought you were about to punch something. But you honestly wish your men didn't care for your sanity because them being a distraction was better than them being silent and watching your back as Skywalker walked confidently next to you.
"Do you always breathe that loud?" Anakin peeped up, looking over at you. His face was blank but you could tell he was holding in a devilish smirk that you swear to maker you always wanted to slap off of his face.
You looked over at him with pure confusion, "What do you mean?"
"You sound like you're suffocating, is it too long of a walk for you little miss princess?" he asked, purposefully mocking you, just needing to get to your head, to tickle your insecurities.
Your nose scrunched up at his comment, "I've been breathing perfectly fine this whole time, Master Skywalker. Don't you have better things to listen to than my breathing anyways?"
"Well, when you're being incredibly loud, I can't focus on those 'better things'."
You turned away from him, your face hot. Did you really breathe that loud? No, he just wants to get to you. But what if you did really breathe that loud? You felt embarrassed beyond belief. All you wanted to do was fall back and escape to the transport ship that had left what seemed like a millennium ago.
Before you could think too far into it, one of your boys, Mitch, spoke up, "I don't think you breathe that loud, General."
The clone outfitted in white and a forest green fell into step next to you. You smiled widely at him, looking up. It was funny, the clones being taller than yourself - yet they only listened to you. You'd seen other people attempt to boss around your clones, but they had hard heads and they liked to knock them against anyone other than yourself.
Anakin muttered something under his breath, eyes averting away from your figure. You would've asked him what he had said if it weren't for you just simply not caring about his opinion on anything.
Mitch fell back into step with the rest of the men, leaving you in the same atmosphere that you were in before he trailed up on you; in Skywalker's restrained silence. You knew he wanted to say something else, he always wanted to say something about your men being "kiss-ups", just wanted you to give them your full attention.
'If you really want to insult me, don't do it in front of my men,' you spoke through thoughts. You'd think you'd have a force connection with someone you liked, someone that made you cherish their time and attention. The one between you and Anakin was unnecessary and stupid - that's why you never got into verbal arguments. It was almost like texting someone over a holopad, except you could hear their voice almost as if it were in a dark chamber, echoing off the walls of your mind.
He didn't respond, his eyes forward, watching the trail with carefulness that he only faked. He just didn't want to look at you is what the problem was, cause when he did, he would say something nasty. 'Come by my quarters when we get back to Coruscant, then I won't have to say a single word in front of your men.'
For once, you were up to the challenge of talking to him. You always denied his offers, which only sent more teases your way, more glares. The less you interacted with him, the more he mocked you. 'Fine, then I will.'
You watched out of the corner of your eye, a smirk spreading across his face.
It did take long to find something, the hideout that everyone was speaking of. It was small, carved into a peak. "Great, we'll be lucky if we don't find tunnels in this thing."
For once, Anakin let out a small huff of air - a laugh sort of. It was quiet, like he didn't want you, or anyone, to hear that he was laughing at something you said. We easily found the entrance, walked in with muffled footsteps, trying to sneak as quietly as we could try. Tank stood behind you protectively, the rest of your men in line with him. It was the same for Skywalker's battalion - Captain Rex in line with the rest of the 501st. And of course, you never got out of sync while next to Anakin, now closer than you were before in the tight halls.
"I don't like this one bit," Tank said under his breath, looking around while keeping his shoulders tense, ready for whatever there was to come.
"I know Tank but we'll get out of here as soon as possible," you whispered back, keeping your voice low. You were watching cracks trail up into the ceiling, the deep hum of machinery vibrating the atmosphere around you.
Anakin knew too, you felt it, that there was indeed a factory hidden in the cavern you were walking through. You kept your hand close to your hip, though the thought of a fight was very deep in your mind. All you were searching for now was the vibration of voices.
You closed yourself into your own thoughts, listening for noise. For a moment, you could only hear the soft whisper of a joke send over from Reaper to Kix, then you closed out that train. You heard the conveyer belt to the left of you, taking a turn down the next crossroad and simply walking straight. And to the right, you heard the voice of Poggle, speaking in native Geonosian to the other close members of the separatist alliance.
You held up your right hand, stopping your men and Skywalker's men in their tracks. As soon as that happened, you felt a jolt through your mind as he shared the same force channel as you did, listening to a language you never understood. Then you directed him to the left, listening to the sounds of machinery.
"We certainly got lucky this time boys," you claimed, turning around, addressing in a soft voice, "Mitch, I will need you to find a way to shut down the factory when we enter, Kix and Cub with accompany you. Rex and Tank will stay with me and General Skywalker. Hardcase and Jesse, you will stand guard in front of the factory, and the rest of you will take out droids that might be there and find explosive deposits."
The men all nodded, not daring to speak a response and they followed you in the same quiet march that they had kept up that whole time walking in.
"Master Skywalker, you are to take Rex and collect some of the most dangerous explosives when they are found. Tank and I will join you soon after, I would like to continue listening."
Anakin snickered, "They why don't you just take guard and Jesse and Hardcase can actually put the backpacks to use."
You hummed, beckoning Tank to take his backpack off and you dropped both yours and Tank's into Anakin's hands, "As you wish." He looked disappointed. Even though this was your mission, he had bossed you around without getting you upset. What a shame.
•--•
The mission went exactly as planned, which was something that never seemed to happen when you were beside Skywalker on a mission. But today, everything had went exactly as we planned it to go. Well, up until the end. You had hurried your men out and told them to call for a transport as you and Anakin stayed inside, cutting up some of the machinery, the lock on the controls not going to hold up forever. Mitch was good, but not that good.
And, we found a stray droid in the process, wandering into the factory after he must've heard no noise from it. As soon we we rushed at him, he had the last laugh, contacting Poggle to your location on the spot.
You scurried behind Anakin, talking to your men. They reported the transport ship was close, flying down to them now. As soon as you turned the corner to the main entrance though, you felt a sting in your arm. Eager to get out, you tried to not focus on the pain, rushing your men into the ship as you hurried out fast. Reaper threw down one of the explosives, it soon beeping and caving in the entrance.
You smiled in relief. This was the first good mission in a long time, your men keeping Anakin's calm. It was funny, the contrast between how you and Anakin interacted and how his men and your men interacted. Rex pointed that out once. You and Anakin then didn't communicate with each other the rest of the mission.
As you became grounded though, you grasped your arm. It hurt, bad, a searing pain. As you held your fingers up, you saw blood. You tried to hide the injury for the time being, the transport ship making it's way to the command ship and you scurried off as soon as it landed. Or well, tried to.
"Is that... blood, General?" Cub spoke. You winced at his question, turning around to see him standing right there behind you, checking out your wound.
Anakin stepped over, speaking in a commanding voice, "What do you mean blood?"
Cub turned you, showing Anakin the blood forming a circle on the fabric where the wound was under. Anakin grumbled, grabbing your wrist in a way that made you dizzy and dragged you to the infirmary, setting you down on a medical cot and calling over Kix.
The man in blue took off his helmet, setting it down and looking at your arm. "Could you, um, undress for me. If you need a shirt or something we have plenty."
You waved him off, stripping yourself of your long sleeved top and your robes. You had a tight breastband on, not revealing anything in particular but your arms and your stomach. You knew that the men were mature, not taking a wounded woman soldier as some sort of sex worker when she was to be almost half naked to receive medical attention. All the men were very respectful - too good to deserve the lives they had to live.
You waited for Anakin to leave, but as Kix tended to your wound, rubbing some bacta ointment on it and wrapping it up with bandages, Anakin continued to glare at you. You felt his eyes burning right through your head as he waited for Kix to finish.
"Are there any other wounded?" the medic asked when turning to Anakin. Anakin shook his head and Kix simply nodded, saying a goodbye to Anakin and walking back to the hangar bay to connect back with his group.
You downcast your eyes, a frown tugging at your lips as you avoided looking at his figure, broad and hovering over you like a building. You knew that if he was still standing there, arms crossed tight against his chest, he wanted to say something.
When the metal of the door shut with a mechanical noise, and Anakin burst into flames.
"You were injured, and you did tell me?!" he asked, raising his voice as he stared you down. You couldn't avoid his eyes now, looking back at his face you saw the fury in his expression, his eyebrows scrunched, his face in pure anguish.
You inhaled, looking away frantically, then back at him, "Why are you asking me like you've ever cared? When have you ever gave a shit about me?"
"Are you saying you don't believe I care?"
You scrunched your nose up in a way that flipped Anakin's heart, watching as you turned from this closed book into this flaming ball of emotion. "Why should I believe in any universe that you would care about me? You mock me in front of my men, criticize me constantly and overall, you're a huge dick."
Anakin was quick to unfold his arms and cage you into the medical bed, his hair falling in his face as he stared you down. Maker he was big. You had thought he was tall of course but as he really hunched over you, got in your face, he was intimidating to say the least.
"I have always cared about you, do you understand? I worry every moment you are on the field. You do not tell me I don't care about you, I would travel to the end of the galaxy to find you."
You huffed, not letting his fake front manipulate you. It wasn't fake, everything had come out of Anakin's mouth aggressive, yet true. He cared deeply, he thought of you constantly. He was always in a bad mood cause he couldn't have you. He acted like a playground bully because he was convinced it would protect you from his feelings. But fate always prevailed.
"Get out of my face."
Anakin tilted his head and in a mocking manner, spoke, "And what if I don't? You gonna call Mitch? Is he gonna kiss your ass like he always does?"
"You don't talk about Mitch like that, you slimeball," you growled, pushing at Anakin's shoulders. He stumbled a little, but not enough to move his arms from keeping you sitting on the cot.
"Then tell me. What. Are. You. Going. To. Do. About. It?"
As a Jedi, you knew you couldn't use aggression against him. The tones you two were using already was bad enough, biting at each other's necks like stray dogs, but you weren't gonna hit him.
Anakin's blue eyes pierced your soul, they were clouded, his face so close to you that butterflies roamed in your stomach and his lips were plump, curled into a snarl. But soon, a smug smirk played on his lips, "Nothing, you're too much of a good girl. You wouldn't do anything but sit there all pretty, waiting for one of your boys to pick you off your feet and pamper you."
"They don't pamper me, they protect me, something you just seem incapable of."
A rope snapped in Anakin. He couldn't take it anymore, pretending he didn't want you, trying to tell you he cared without actually saying it. Maker, he wanted to be the one to pamper you and protect you. He'd spend countless nights imagining you curled up in his lap, talking the day away, telling him about your latest mission, talking to him in that soft voice you always addressed Ahsoka in.
He knew there was nothing that would make you hate him more, so he move his hand up your arm and pressed his lips to yours. For the anger emitting from Anakin, his lips laid on yours tenderly. He wanted to be mean, he wanted to leave small bruises on your neck and thighs, he wanted to be rough with you, but he couldn't just ruin the first kiss out of a temper tantrum.
When you didn't kiss him back, he pulled away, looking at you with the same expression he had before, but his mouth was relaxed and his eyes had a soft look to them.
You didn't know how to respond. The kiss had made your heart throb, made your eyelids droop as if they wanted to close forever. Your lips felt hot, so did your face. And as if Anakin was water in a dessert, you lurched forward, catching his lips with your own in a desperate kiss. You grabbed at his shoulders, your lips moving against his as he snatched your waist with both hands.
Everything about this encounter made your ears hot, your face was on fire, your body felt like it was made of lava. Anakin tasted so sweet, something you would have never expected. You heard a loud laughter through the durasteel walls of the ship, pulling away from Anakin and pushing lightly on his chest.
"Anakin, there are people-"
"Would you like to go somewhere a little more private?" he asked, his metal hand massaging your waist as he pressed light breathy kisses over your lips. This is the most vulnerable he had ever seen you and maker did he want to make this last forever. But he was still so upset at you, for hiding from him, from keeping the injury to yourself.
You nodded, and Anakin simply whisked you away by your arm, puling you through a side door in the infirmary, leading to a private meditation room, one where no Jedi was to be disturbed if not for their commlink going off. There were only two on each command ship and they were used often, the cheap soundproofing keeping out most of the loud talking and resulting in a hum that most Jedi could be okay with. They were convenient, down a hall that most weren't even permitted to be down anyways, the door with a solid lock on it.
It felt wrong, allowing such feelings and bringing them especially into a Jedi-oriented place. Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was forbidden, but Anakin refused to bat and eye at anything being necessarily wrong. This was only a show of passion right? You had to have passion as a Jedi, attachments were forbidden, but didn't you have an attachment to the Jedi order as a whole? It was something you always kept with you, something you could never defy, something that ran your whole life, it was a commitment. So, an attachment?
Your head ran dry of thoughts as he promptly locked the door. Immediately his lips latched themselves onto yours, hands holding your hips close to him as the top of your back pressed against the wall. His hair tickled your forehead, your hands reaching to hold the sides of his face, feeling the fluff of it tangle between your finger tips.
You could already feel him, hard against your thigh, pulling away for a moment to breathe before kissing you again. It was hot, his lips smothering you, heavy exhales between kissing him like our lives would end.
He squeezed your hip tight, making you gasp before sliding his tongue into your mouth. You felt yourself growing wet by the second. Maker, you hated this man more than anything, but the way he touched you and kissed you, the way his face felt under your hands, you never wanted to be away from him.
There was a counter in the corner of the room with a tea machine next to it. He didn't hesitate to move his hands down to your ass, giving it a squeeze and muttering an "Up" before carrying you over to it, mouth still locked onto yours as he dropped you on the counter. You were perfectly level with him in that moment, his tongue sliding against yours. You ached for him and his touch, you wanted to feel him everywhere. He pulled down your pants and boots, leaving them in a pool of clothing next to one of the meditation cushions. You felt absolutely bare, nothing but your breastband and panties on.
Anakin rested his forehead against yours, sharing the same air with you, staring at your curves and the way your panties clung to you. You looked so delicate to him, in a way where he didn't even want to touch you.
"You're so pretty," he groaned, gripping the side of your thighs, "I wanna fuck you, will you let me do that angel?"
You grinded yourself against his bulge, needy for something, anything from him, "Please Anakin, I-I need you."
He knelt down before you, dark blue crystals staring up into your own eyes, prompting you to watch him. He nipped a piece of the fabric, pulling them down your legs as his hands held you off of the surface. You felt like you were gonna start drooling over him, he was delicious to look at, something you always ignored. But you couldn't now, the eye-candy almost in shining light, the only single thing you could focus on.
And you didn't focus on anything else. Which is why you moaned in surprise when you felt cold against your clit. His glove must've been somewhere on his lap, but that didn't matter because his metal thumb rubbed circles against your clit. The contrast felt so good, and you couldn't help but become a whimpering mess.
He prodded a finger at your hole, "Do you like it when I touch you with my metal hand? You know, I did think you were weird, but I never suspected you were this weird."
You were about to make up a comeback, but when he slipped his finger into you, your thoughts were muddled. Your teeth latched onto your bottom lip and you unintentionally grinded against his hand.
"Ani..." you moaned, one of your hands gripping the end of the counter while the other moved to tangle itself into his hair.
He tilted his head, bringing his finger out from you, eliciting a noise from your throat. He popped his finger into his mouth and you could've sworn you could cum just to that sight alone.
"So sweet. I could just eat you up," he said, smirking as he slipped his finger back in, licking through your folds.
You died in that moment, adding a second finger, his lips circled your clit, sucking lightly. You moaned at his action, watching him. It was almost euphoric, the eye contact you two kept. You tugged lightly at his hair as he licked up your juices. He groaned, vibrating your nerves and making you moan his name.
He open-mouth kissed your pussy. "Keep making those nosies, y'sound so good," he muttered, attacking your clit with his tongue and lips, moving his fingers as he began to take them out before shoving them knuckle deep again.
You felt like he was pulling your soul out of you body, hand tugging his hair more often than not, but he loved it, groaning or growling before fucking his fingers into you harder. His fingertips caressed a spot in you which turned your eyes heavy and made you feel weak. He knew you were close, your stomach and walls were tight, your moans turned into whimpers and sighs, and you grinded against his face like a loth-cat in heat.
Anakin's last move was one you never expected and never would have in a million years. He pressed his metal fingers against the one spot inside of you, removing his mouth from your pussy. But, as soon as you thought he was just gonna teasingly edge you, you felt a tingling sensation at your clit. Was that-
"Cum for me, pretty thing, wanna see you cum on my metal hand. I know you wanna," he said, licking at you once more before you saw white, pulling him by his dirty blonde locks, his face so close to your womanhood you only saw his curious eyes as you came on his lips.
Anakin removed his fingers licking at them and cleaning off his lips. Lust was plastered on his face as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, the bend of your knees resting on his shoulders as he cleaned up the rest of your juices with his tongue.
"Sweetest thing in this galaxy, fuck," he muttered, closing his eyes for a second before pulling away from you, untangling your limbs from his own and pulling you off the counter. Anakin turned you around, shoving your chest against the counter. The cold surface made your nipples hard.
"Do you want this?" he asked.
"Yes, please Anakin, I need you," you whined. Okay, he had you tied around his finger now and he fucking knew it.
He hardly even took off his clothes, pulling out his length. You wish you could've seen it, knew what you were getting into before you took him straight. You had heard rumors from ladies at his favorite bar about how big he was. Sometimes you and Obi-Wan would go, equaling the time spent between you and Anakin, only for you to get mad from the mention of his name. But you never expected it to be that big. When you felt the head push against your entrance, you only slumped down and moaned.
Maker he was big, and you could feel him throbbing against your tight walls as he added more inches into you. It felt like he was in your stomach by the time he stopped, pelvis against your ass.
Grabbing your hair, he pulled you head up. You whimpered, attempting to grasp at something around your area, finding nothing and resulting to splaying your hands on the counter.
"You're so fucking tight, pretty thing. I'm surprised that it only took me kissing you to get you all shy. Always seemed like a brat to me," he whispered in your ear, slowly grinding his hips into you. You felt like puddy in his hands, taking everything he gave you, begging for him, letting him use you.
When you spoke, your words came out hoarse, "Shu- Shut up, nngh-"
As soon as the words came out, his hips pulled out before slamming down on your own. He kept you hair bundled up on his hands, keeping your head up.
"Don't back talk me, I'll fucking ruin you," he growled, "Tell me you're mine, tell me how much you love my cock in your pretty little pussy."
As he continued the teasing motion of grinding himself into you, you couldn't help it. " 'm all yours Ani, love how big your cock is, need you to fuck me so bad."
He laughed, straitening himself before taking your hands and keeping them together, pressing them down onto your back as he thrust into you shallowly. His movements made you squirm, pushing back against him.
"So needy," he groaned, smacking your ass, "Beg for it, angel."
"Please Ani, please. I need more, need you deeper Anakin."
It didn't seem to take much of any convincing before he started fucking you deep, rough thrusts that had your eyes going to the back of your head. You were completely useless, being used as a fuck toy for him. You grabbed the wrist that kept your arms pinned against your back, the only thing keeping you grounded to reality.
Anakin was in bliss, feeling your walls lightly spasm everytime he brushed your g-stop, hearing you moan his name like it was a prayer to some god. He might as well have been to you in that moment, he wanted to give you everything, watch you whimper for him. He wished this could've been softer, sweeter, but he wasn't gonna start sex over an argument and not blow off the months of steam you had caused him.
"You're never gonna lie to me again, right angel?" Anakin asked, pulling you up against by your hair.
"Y'never asked, I wasn't lying 'bout something you never asked," you managed, but you soon came to realize that he did not like that answer.
If you had thought Anakin was fucking you within an inch of your life by that time, maker was he pounding into you harder. You all but moaned louder than you've ever even talked and prayed nobody from the outside heard. Anakin had no room for talking anymore, angling his hips up and taking you so hard that you couldn't even focus on breathing correctly.
You weren't gonna last that long, not when he was pounding into your g-spot, fucking you like a ragdoll. You felt your core clench around him, stomach tightening. All you could make were whines of 'Anakin' and 'please'. And when you finally let go, you felt your soul leave your body.
"Good girl, cum around my cock, just like that," he whispered, voice all breath and rasp, feeling you release around him. He pulled out soon after, spilling his seed all over your lower back.
You stayed down, recovering from what you'd feel for days after this. His scooped up some of his cum with his index and middle finger, "Open up."
You took his two fingers into your mouth, sucking eagerly. It tasted tangy, but you didn't mind, better than him being rude and using your clothes to clean it up.
After making sure you were "clean", he simply fixed himself up, which hardly took long as he didn't really undress, put his glove back on and dressed you up. You didn't need his help, trying to push at his shoulders to let you take care of yourself, but he only shoved you back.
"Let me help you, please," he said, pressing a kiss to your hands before fixing your clothes while you gave into the attention.
He pulled you to your feet, looking down at you. Maker you were the most beautiful mess he'd ever seen. A small spot of drool patched the crease of your lips, your hair was a tangled mess, and your eyes were half-lidded. You must've been exhausted.
He only laughed, kissing your forehead sweetly, "How about we go back to the infirmary, get you a shirt and then we'll clean you up, okay?"
You nodded, holding onto his gloved hand and following him. What were you two even arguing about?
•--•
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