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#Nah hes just so fun to draw its quite nice
zurdurer · 5 months
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Jonny didn't have enough belts, this has been fixed
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(it's not all of the crew's belts but I am so tight for time rn)
@silver-of-straw idk if you want to be tagged but it felt correct, apologies if you don't
Version with WWE belt at the request of my friend + a version without text under the cut
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mochinomnoms · 11 months
Note
Hi hi friend,
If it is not too much trouble I would like to make a request for your event? I think I would like Floyd with prompt 14- “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!”
They/them for Yuu is fine with me, I was thinking romantic? Where maybe it's obvious to everyone but Yuu how requited their feelings are.
I've really liked reading your writing and hope you continue to have fun doing it (♡°▽°♡)
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floyd leech x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, mutual pining [wc} – 3,659 prompt 14: “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!” note - hahahahahhahahahahaha i did not mean to write so much but i went a little buckwild and i think floyd deserves to be allowed to be soft sometimes a floral inconvenience
Lavender roses - Introduced in 1900, lavender roses represent love at first sight. They’re often given to someone to convey that the giver was immediately smitten and fell in love. 
You’d decided to attend a karaoke event the Mostro Lounge was hosting to introduce the new spring menu. It was meant to be a nice, relaxing hangout with your friends from Heartslaybul as you listened to your friends attempt to show off their mediocre singing skills. 
Ace was in an especially good mood, happy to tease you as you waved happily at Floyd, who’d returned your affections. 
“Oi, oi, oiiiiiii, Prefect? When you gonna say something? Kinda tired of dealing with you puking petals every—OW!”
You snorted as Deuce smacked Ace upside the head, muttering about him being an asshole. 
“Leave them alone Ace, unless you want to be collared for harassing a member of the student body?” Riddle reprimanded, giving Ace a harsh glare as he turned to you instead. 
“You can ignore him, Prefect, you don’t have to say anything to that good-for-nothing merman! I’m sure you could do much better anyways.”
You chuckled, enjoying the soft banter between the group. It was particularly nice seeing Riddle interact more casually with his peers, even if you weren’t able to convince him to sing with you. 
“Are you sure you do want to go up with me?” You pouted leaning in close to the red-headed housewarden. “I’ll even let you pick the song—”
“Out of the question.”
You sighed, resting against the plush cushions of the booth while Ace and Deuce bicker about which song would be better for a duet. This was nice. 
It was nice, up until Floyd decided to take part in the festivities. Somehow he’d snuck behind you and Riddle, snatching up your friend with a gleeful cackle as he screeched. 
“FLOYD! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT—”
“Nah, it’s fine Goldfishie, I need ya for just a sec!”
Floyd placed Riddle in a seat, front and center at the stage, as he climbed up. The cool blue spotlight suited Floyd’s features as he grinned. 
Picking up the mic from its stand, Floyd announced, “Alright! This song is for my favorite little fishie in the whole entire school, so you all better enjoy it!”
You expected him to start singing a silly pop song, one with high energy and beats. Or one that became a meme on Magicam last week, something about flamingos and turning pink. 
Instead, the upbeat, suave tunes of a familiar song started playing. A familiar love song. 
“Is…is this ABBA?”
“Who?” Cater asked, recording the scene with a stifling giggle as Riddle turned redder and redder in embarrassment (and most likely rage) as Floyd continued to serenade him. 
“This is ‘Lay Your Love’ by BABA, a classic from the 80s—”
“No it’s called ABBA back home—wait, WHY IS FLOYD SINGING A LOVE SONG TO RIDDLE!?”
Your screech startled the surrounding tables, drawing attention that you were too jealous to focus on. Floyd made eye contact with you, hearing your yelling. Continuing to sing—quite nicely you’d hate to admit—the eel mer winked and smirked, drawing an ire that you didn’t know you had. 
“What the hell? Floyd!” With the vindication of a scorned lover, you stomped to the stage and swiped the microphone from Floyd’s hands. 
“Floyd, what are you doing?” you spoke into the mic, glaring daggers at the tall beanpole of an eel turned man, who looked unbothered at your angry presence.
Floyd took the mic back and answered, “I’m trying to win my mate back—DON’T GO WASTING—”
“What mate?” You yanked the mic back while Floyd followed suit, though this time you kept both hands on. It became a tugging match as you both tried speaking into the mic before the other took it back. 
“Goldfishie.” You could hear Riddle scream at that. 
“Riddle’s not your mate! I’m your mate—” You snapped your mouth shut, the mic feedback and your last words echoing through the lounge, mocking you. 
Floyd had a large, smug grin on his face, his sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights of the stage. You were now very aware of the packed lounge, and of the students spectating. 
The mic was slowly pulled back to Floyd, who gleefully asked “Oh~ Say that again?”
“Nuh-uh.” 
You shook your head furiously, trying to pull back in order to run off and curl into a hole from embarrassment. Floyd’s grip on the mic and your hands tightened, preventing your escape. 
“That’s fiiine,” Floyd pulled out a small device from his pocket, lightly tapping it on the mic. “I have it riiiight ‘ere.” 
Suddenly, a recording of your voice looped into the mic: 
“I’m your mate—I’m your mate—I’m your mate—”
He recorded it. 
“Oh my god…” You looked at Floyd in horror, who was still grinning ear to ear, like a cat that got the mouse. 
“HehehehehehahahAHAHA!” Floyd’s giggle turned into a cackle as he launched at you, mic and recorder abandoned on the floor. Between the ear-splitting squeal of the mic hitting the ground and a 6’2” man tackling you, there was little time for you to defend yourself as your lips clashed, teeth clattering against one another from the brute force.
His long arms wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, dipping you down dramatically as he broke your kiss to instead leave wet kisses on your cheeks, nose, forehead, and every other piece of skin not covered by clothes. 
Ace and Cater’s cackles could be heard amongst the now growing laughter, whistles, and jeers of the crowd. You think you could even make out someone yelling at your two to get a room. 
“—off the stage! Get off the stage, both of you!” 
Ah, it was Azul. Who was stomping over the shoo you both off the stage, giving Floyd a particularly harsh whack on the head with his staff. 
“Ow, fuck that hurt!” Floyd whined, scooping you up with his left hand and cradling you to his chest. “Cool it Azul, don’t harsh my vibe—”
“I don’t care! Go make out in your room! This is a lounge not a brothel!”
“Fiiiiiine,” Floyd adjusted his grip to instead throw you over his shoulder, amused by how limp you’d gone in his grasp. “Come on Shrimpy! I got something fun in mind~”
His sentence and teasing tone made you flush, images of you and him in bed flashing through your mind. 
“W-wait, Floyd, what are we gonna do?”
“You’ll see, ahahahehe!” Floyd’s giggled echoed through the hallway as he quickened his pace. It was only a few minutes before you realized that you two had made it to the dormitory halls. 
Floyd kicked open his door, the hinges squeaking from the force. He marched over to his bed, grabbing at your waist to no doubt throw you on it before pausing. 
“Oh yeah.” Like a sudden realization hitting him, Floyd grabbed the corner of his bedsheets and shook them, clothing, books, and crumbs no doubtedly flying off. 
Once satisfied, Floyd hummed and once again grabbed your waist, this time committing to throwing you on the bed, which bounced under you. 
“AaaAaaAAAah—FLOYD!” You yelped, face turning redder as Floyd caged you to the bed. He looked at you with a hungry expression, licking his lips at the sight of you. 
“Wait-wait Floyd, gimme a sec—” you stammered, crawling backwards until your back hit the headboard. “—this is all very very sudden, I—wait!”
Floyd crawled after you, trapping you with his long arms, leaning down until his lips were lingering over yours. You shut your eyes in anticipation, waiting for his hands to grab at your clothes and tear them off. 
A soft, tender meeting of the lips. Floyd pressed his mouth against yours, swiping his tongue into your mouth, to which you returned with flustered confusion. The kiss was with such gentleness that you had to open your eyes to confirm that it was indeed Floyd kissing you. 
Olive and yellow eyes were closed, a blissful smile on his lips as he broke your kiss, instead pressing almost chaste pecks to your cheeks, down, your neck, and over your shirt where your heart was beating away. 
Floyd pressed his right ear to your chest, listening to the increasingly rapid pounding against your rib cage. His arms moved from trapping you against the bed to trapping you against his body, wrapping around your back and tightening while his lanky legs tangled between yours. 
You weren’t sure what to do with your own hands, once he had settled laying on you. Hesitantly, you reached to lace them through his hair, pushing the strands back to get a better view of his peaceful face. Admittedly, seeing Floyd in such a state, blissful and sweet, was beautiful. 
His smile grew slightly as you combed through his hair, nuzzling his nose into your chest. Into your heart really. 
“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Floyd opened his yellow eye, gleaming at you in amusement. “I just wanted to cuddle, did ya have somethin’ else in mind? Haha!”
He moved to prop up his chin, smirking at you as he teased, “Didn’t think ya had sucha dirty mind, if you wanna ‘do it’, all you had to do was ask—”
You shoved his face back into your chest looking away in embarrassment, feeling his giggles vibrate through you. 
“Shut up, ugh!” You pouted, grumbling, “You set me up! Ugh! How’d you even know that would work?”
“I heard you.”
“Huh?”
“Talkin’ to Lil Goldfishie,” Floyd moved so that instead of laying on top of you, he was curled into your side with his head nestled at the crook of your neck. “When you got the flower sickness.” 
You looked at him with shock. That conversation with Riddle happened nearly three months ago in between classes. 
Specifically, it happened a few weeks after winter break, when you were catching up Riddle to your “adventure” in Scarabia, after which small lavender roses started blooming along your freckles, their thorns scratching your skin.
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“And then, he launched us waaaaaay into the desert!” You animatedly waved your arms around as you recounted your fiasco over winter break. “We were trapped, but then Kalim used his unique magic to fill a dry riverbed with water and then!”
Riddle raised a brow at you as you began gigging with a soft blush. “Jade and Floyd had to turn into their merforms, so me and Kalim had to hold on to his back, but when I wrapped my arms around his chest, and he held my hand to steady me! ”
Your friend rolled his eyes as you started to silently squealed in your seat, sighing.
“Are you going to finish? I have better things to do than listen to you babble about Floyd of all people. Honestly,” Riddle huffed, “I don’t understand what you see in that riffraff!”
“He’s not a riffraff!” You quipped, frowning as you crossed your arms. “He’s actually really sweet if you give him the time of day, Floyd just likes being able to have fun with others you know!”
“Even then, his mood swings don’t terrify you? He gets rather violent sometimes.” Riddle took a sip of his tea as you shook your head. 
“No, I mean if you just go with the flow it’s fine, plus that just makes him more exciting to be around! Plus we’ve been getting closer ever since Azul’s overblot…”
You smiled softly as you looked down at your lap, fondness growing in your heart like blooms on a warm spring day. 
“He can actually be quite sweet, once you get to know him…you just have to give him a chance.”
The two of you remained quiet, the only coming from the distant chatter of other students in the more populated areas of the guest lounge.
“I’m safe to assume then that he is the reason you’ve started sprouting the roses?”
Your soft pink blush deepened as you nodded, picking at the small flower that began blooming on your cheek. 
“Yeah…”
“When will you confess, then?” You looked at Riddle in shock, who seemed confused at your distress. “What? It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for him, and even I notice how especially clingy he is around you.”
You shook your head, stuttering, “Well, yeah but that’s—”
“I’ve even heard him refer to you by name, he only does that with Jade and Azul you know?”
“You don’t understand Riddle.” You tried to interject, growing more flustered by the second. “I don’t think I could—”
Riddle continued, “As much as I disapprove, it does seem that you two genuinely bring out the best in each other, he does seem softer when you’re around—”
“Oh my—Riddle, stop—”
“—And you’ve gotten more outspoken, I remember how shy you were—”
“I’m begging you—”
“—Besides, according to the Queen of Heart’s rule number 478, any romantic feelings must be confessed approximately 12 days upon their discovery or the individual in question obligated to deny—”
“I said stop, Riddle!” You yelled at the top of your lungs before choking on rather large bouquet of lavender roses. Leaves and petals fluttered all around you as you continued to let out rough coughs, phlegm and saliva making a mess. 
Your yell startled the red-head so much that he simply started at you with a red face and thinned lips, too shocked to properly yell back at you for raising your voice indoors. 
Instead, he carefully placed his tea cup on the table between you two, folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. You on the other hand, peaked around the dividers separating your nook from the rest of the lounge. 
Ace and Deuce looked over in concern as you continued to cough out more roses, walking over before you shook your head and gave them a thumbs up before shooing them away and turning back to Riddle. 
“...sorry Riddle.” You whispered, looking at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to yell, don’t be mad?”
“It’s…fine.” He replied with a strained voice, taking a final inhale before opening his eyes again and making eye contact. “You shouldn’t have yelled, and I shouldn’t have pushed.”
Riddle sighed, relaxing into the soft lounge chair. Though he would deny when asked, the chair that he helped you pick for the guest room was is favorite spot to sit in, as it surprising comfortable. 
“May I ask why you refused? It’s quite obvious to anyone that you care for him immensely, for some forsaken reason, and I would even say it’s quite mutual.”
You avoided eye contact as he resumes sipping from his tea, a lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes for his post meal tea. 
“Yeah…that’s what the other first-years say too. Even Jade’s been dropping hints on mer courtship gifts.”
“Then? What’s stopping you? 
A pregnant pause was in the air as you open and closed your mouth, attempting to figure out what it was that scared you. 
“What if…he gets bored?” 
Riddle furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in, barely able to hear you. 
“What if he what?” He sighed, a bit irritated. “Speak up Prefect, I know you can, you just did earlier.”
You groaned out, “What if he gets bored with me? I’m fun and interesting now, yeah!”
Your friend watched, and you began pacing around the room, holding his head in his hand as he watched and listened to you vent. 
“I’m just a silly little magicless human that got transported from another world! Big whoop! What happens when that novelty wears off? You've heard him, he only likes to do things that are fun and interesting to him, but I won’t always be fun and interesting, eventually he’ll get used to me and get bored.”
You turned to look at Riddle with a teary-eyed, but firm look. “He’s get bored and leave me. I can’t handle that! So I just won’t be with him. In fact, I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for him!”
Your voice began to crack as you stated your final sentence, snapping your mouth shut before you got begun crying. Riddle stood up and walked over to grasp your shoulders, looking at you with an understanding smile. 
“The sort of person that would abandon a lover simply because they’re bored never deserved one in the first place.” 
Riddle hummed in agreement as you sqeaked out a ‘really?’, giving you a soft pat on your shoulder. 
“Of course, I can’t say I don’t understand your hesitance, Floyd is…Floyd, after all. However, he is not my friend, you are. If you choose to forfeit your right to confess, then so be it.”
You smiled as he dragged you back to your seats, giggling as he continued, “I personally would say it’s no lost on your part, he’s not exactly the most prime candidate for your life partner should you be stuck here in Twisted Wonderland, may I suggest one of the many more suitable providers?”
“Pfft-like who? You?” you cackled as Riddle looked at you in mild horror. 
“Oh dear, of course not! I admire you as a friend, but I have much stricter standards for a partner.” He snapped his fingers in revelation. “Perhaps Ace or Deuce, you are rather close to them—”
“Ewwwww, pass. They’re like annoying brothers!” 
Riddle snorted before covering it up with a cough. “True. Trey?”
“If you’re just going to suggest your dorm members, maybe we should switch the conversation to something else.”
“Well I think my dorm produces only the best and most gentlemanly mages of all of NRC, so excuse me if I’m simply trying to give you the best options!” 
You and Riddle shared some laughter, a flash of teal catching the corner of your eye. But you saw nothing, so instead you focused back on Riddle as he began recounting his own winter break activities.
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You remained quiet as you processed your thoughts, finding the lilac ceiling to be particularly interesting. 
Floyd also stayed quiet, still curled into your side as he breathed in your scent. You’re sure that with all of the flowers you’d started coughing up in the last few minutes, you smelled strongly of the lavender roses. 
“You know…I was gettin’ real mad when you wouldn’t confess to me.” Floyd whined, propping his head up with his hand to look at you and your pink face. 
“I thought it would be nice to get a cute confession out of my little shrimp,” He pinched your nose and forced you to look at him. “It be real fun! Like those cringy romcoms landfolk like so much!”
You replied, nasally due to your pinched nose, “Wait, is that why Jade was telling me about mer courting methods?”
“Haha! Yeah, I was hopin’ that you’d bring me a pretty seashell or somethin’ cute so Icould make fun of ya for later.”
You let out an indigent huff, smacking Floyd’s hand away as he laughed. 
“Really? So what made you change your mind?”
“Hearing ya talk to Goldfishie. It pissed me off that you’d think I’d toss you out like humans at sea with their trash.”
Floyd’s tone changed, looking  visibly annoyed as he continued. 
“Mers mate for life, and I wouldn’t choose someone I’d get bored with.” He sat up as his mood continued to sour. “It pissed me off, and it hurt, that my Little Shrimpy would think about me like that.”
“Oh, Floyd,” you sat up with him, guilt seeping in your bones as you looked at his angry face. Though, with the small tears forming in his eyes, Floyd looked more frustrated than anything. 
“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think—it didn’t occur to me that you felt the same—”
“Well I do, and it’s not fair to me that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.” The way Floyd said that so matter of factly made you snap your mouth shut again, looking down at your lap instead. 
“I’m…sorry, Floyd. I wish I could make it up to you—”
Floyd interrupted, moody demeanor brightening suddenly. “No worries, I got just the solution!”
Crawling over back to you so that your back met the headboard again, Floyd grinned maliciously at your curled form. 
“Say it.”
“Huh?”
“Say it. Those three little words.” Floyd held up three fingers to emphasize his point. “The ones that will make all those little flower go right away, the ones you need to say to me.”
You stiffened, leaning away from Floyd as he leaned in. “I don’t know if I can—”
“Say it, Y/N.” The use of your name startled your attention back to his face. He looked unusually serious, peering his heterochromic eyes into your own. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve mistaken him for his twin. 
You whispered, prolonging the inevitable, “What happened to Shrimpy?”
“Shrimpy was Shrimpy, but now your Y/N. And Y/N is Y/N…”
The two of you shared a smile as the distance between you two continued to close. You couldn’t remember what was so pressing earlier, why you were so anxious when the yellow eye of the man in front of you produced nothing but adoration from your heart. 
“Please…” From the uncharacteristic soft murmur to the eyes darting down to your lips and back to your eyes, Floyd drew you back in with a hypnotic ease that only the most alluring of mythical creatures could even hope to imitate. 
The two of you leaned in as you placed a hand on his chest, his own left hand coming to cradle your own. 
You craned your head back to hover your lips under his, uttering the words you swore to never let leave your mouth. 
“I-I…love you, Floyd Leech.”
A single lavender rose grew between your palms, as two longing hearts met as one.
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bloomingdog · 1 year
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𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 — 𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
data: your basic florist au, bit of angst, identity reveal, all that stuff. 4k words, no use of Y/N.
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You know him, you know what the looks like at the very least. Once a week—the day never stays the same—him and a group of other instrument-carrying people go into the small venue in front of your shop at nine in the evening, an hour after closing the shop, when you’re about to head home. One early morning, out of curiosity, you checked the schedules adhered and covering the roller shutter in a poor attempt to find who this mysterious guy was. You found no useful information in that regard, you did foind, however, that the club opened at ten and most concerts held there started at least half an hour later. With that new gathered intel your best guess was that they came early to get everything set or a rather quick sound-check.
The venue is on one of the corners that limit the four way pedestrian crossing, the two corners on either side both hold pubs, and diagonally there’s you. “For the Roses” is a name given by its old owner, a sweet lady—and Joni Mitchell fan—you had worked for since you were seventeen, and four years later she had decided it was time to retire. For the last five months it’s been just you, it was easier to take care of it when you were two people working, that much is true, but having to close the shop has given you staring privileges. Years ago, when you first started working here the placement of the shop seemed rather odd, between clubs, pubs and the many other forms of amusement, this, however, was a strategical position. A big part of the clientele consisted of repenting boyfriends and enamoured halves of a first date, and they kept the business afloat.
You recognise him the moment he walks in.
“Hello! How may I help you?” The clock ticks away the last minutes before closing as you try to put on your cheeriest voice.
“Hi, sorry about comin’ in so late. My mate’s playing a gig, I just want some flowers to throw on stage, whole dramatics and all.” His voice is smooth with only the slightest rasp to it. He’s a fun last client.
“Do you want the classic roses then?”
“Nah don’t bother, give me the leftovers.” There are one or two extra cuttings and a bouquet that never got picked up you wouldn’t mind getting rid of. 
You excuse yourself to pick out the best leftover flowers you could in an attempt to make a half-decent bouquet. He’s oggling your shop, he’s particularly eye-catching inside your light coloured, slightly old-fashioned establishment. He likes it there, it’s cosy, the floors are filled with different types of flower arrengements and the walls display an amalgamation of different decorations gathered throughout the years, his inspection is only interrupted by your coming back behind the counter.
“Here, I tried to make it as cohesive as I could.”
“It’s alright, love, it’s gonna get thrown anyway.” Oh, that pet name went straight to your chest.
“It felt unprofessional not to give you at least a small sample of my usual, better, quality.” He gave a side smile as a response.
“How much do I owe you?”
“It’s on the house, no worries, I wouldn’t make you pay for only scraps.”
“That’s quite nice, take this as a tip, then.” He slid a twenty pound note on the counter, right before turning around a saying his goodbyes with a single wave of his hands.
Spinning the sign at the glass door so it reads “Closed” you turn to sweeping the floor and leaving your workplace as neat as possible, you hum along to the song playing from your phone on the counter. The 20 dollars he gave you felt a bit too much, not that you’re going to complain, not with the cost of everything, a flower shop isn’t a luxurious job to have, so it’s much appreciated. 
Drawing the curtain-like metal you spot a group of people walking into the club, one of them must be his friend.
A mere day later, he’s back, making the dainty bells above the door chime.
“Hello! Got another show you need to throw flowers at?” You quip and he chuckles.
“Nah. Only wanted to get actual flowers to have a good reason to ask you out.” He’s confident, maybe overly so, and Hobie is well aware of that, it’s not often that his confidence fails him, though. You look surprised before laughing, it’s ridiculous.
“And what were you thinking of getting?”
“I was hoping you could recommend me something.”
“Roses are usually the go-to flower, although I much prefer freesias.”
“Sick, I’d like a single freesia, please.” He says it in an overly polite manner, the whole situation is laughable.
“That’ll be two pounds.” You say as you hand him the flower.
“Here you go.” You mutter a thank you for an answer. “My band’s playing tonight, at ten, just on the other street, you could come and we could get a drink after.”
No way you’re attending a club on a Wednesday night, with a stranger nonetheless. 
“Sure.” 
“Sweet, I’ll see you. My name’s Hobie by the way.”
And it sounds like proper fun, really.
You’ve managed to avoid the biggest wave of people going home during rush hour and, thankfully, your ride home is as pleasant as the tube allows it to be and yet, you’re restless. His invite plays around in your mind. He’s handsome, that’s for sure, and it would satiate your curiosity on the other side it would also make you tired for work the next day, you’re too old for that, you think and softly laugh at your own joke. The walk home gives you time to ponder on wasted opportunities and the best years of your life, your flat instead greets you with the promise of a reheated dinner and an eight-hour-long sleep which for a moment makes you think about ditching him. 
The commute back feels longer than it usually does. You ate in a rush and got ready far too fast after your flatmate complained about needing to use the bathroom. Your phone marks 10:05PM, fashionably late. You’re thankful the show hasn’t started by the time you sit by the bar, ordering a beer. You still haven’t decided if it’s brave or cocky to ask someone out to your own show.
The whirring of a guitar being plugged signals the beginning of the show.
“Hello, we’re The Spider-Slayers! One two three!” Is your only warning before they start playing. They’re quite good, you have to admit, Hobie, as you’ve recently learned he’s named, exudes power and confidence while on stage, he’s rather skilled. It’s enjoyable, half of the audience is too plastered—it's only ten in the evening—to pay attention to the actual music and are merely glad to have a loud noise playing for them, but they’re well-liked, no doubt an established part of the community. It passes faster than you had anticipated, not even an hour later he’s walking your way while another band prepares to play.
He’s sweaty as he sits down and orders a rum and coke, he looks at you questioning if you also want one. “Make it two.” He indicates the bartender. “Did you like it?” 
He’s tall but not intimidating in the slightest, the metal in his face a contrast to all of his warm side smiles. 
“Yes!” You’re quick to answer. “It was really nice, you guys are good.” He fully smiles at the compliment, he’s got a pretty smile.
“Thanks. I forgot to ask your name earlier, sorry about that.”
“No worries, it’s Y/N.”
“Pretty.” It’s flirty. 
“Did your mate like the flowers?” You ask as the man behind the bar hands you your drinks.
“Totally, made a mess on stage and everything. She was grateful, seriously, funny and praising in equal parts, the bouquet was beautiful too, such a shame it ended like that.” You laugh at that. “How’s it working at a flower shop?”
“Good, actually, better than one good expect, I’d say it’s one of the better retail jobs out there.”
“Seems hard.”
“It is at the beginning, you should’ve seen some of my first arrangements, they were bloody awful, I’m still wondering how we didn’t get any complaints.” It’s Hobie’s turn to laugh.
“You’ve made some improvement then, your shop’s beautiful.” You beam and thank him, you’re proud of the way it’s looking these days. “How’d you end up working there? Do you need a degree to be a florist?”
“Not really, no. I’ve taken a couple courses but for the most part I was trained by my old boss.”
“Hm.” He nods. “Strange place to set up a flower shop, innit? I see you closing all the time and wonder who in their right mind would think of opening it at a nightlife epicenter.” Good to know you’re not the only observer.
“You’d think so! We get a lot of our clientele thanks to that, not all flower shops open until eight either way. Flowers make both great apologies and gifts, you can only imagine the kind of people who walk in there.”
“What, like me?” 
“No way, I’d put you in the normal bunch.” He quirks an eyebrow, an invitation to tell him more about yourself. And that you do. You talk for the two hours that the club remains open, he’s fun, you’re both chatty, you’ve got a multitude of things in common, he tells you about his bandmates, you exchange numbers, he’s a cat person by the way. 
“You want me to walk you home?” The underground closed an hour ago, it wasn’t that big of a trek to your place, you could say yes if not for the stranger—acquaintance—danger middle school talks flashing in your memory. The bus, though taking longer than the tube, was still an option.
“It’s fine, really. I’d rather take the bus.” 
“Got it, I can wait with you if you’d like.” Yeah, yeah, you’d like that. The two of you walk close to each other to the nearest stop. The pavement is damp, it gives you another reason to be glad that you wore your trusty old, slightly dirty, converse instead of a more sophisticated option.
“Thank you for inviting me, I had a nice time, you’re fun.”
“So are you, love.” How could an overused term like that have such a big effect on you when he says it remains a mystery.
You sit in a comfortable silence until the right bus gets there and as you bid your goodbyes you’re unable to contain the big smile you give him, blame it on the drinks. You send him a quick text noticing him that you got home safe and sound before falling into deep sleep.
Your phone rings and vibrates from the bedside table, it always goes off at the same time and yet today it manages to scare you awake. The trip to the bathroom and coffee making is accompanied by a string of curses: music, bad choices, the opening hours of your business and pretty boys all fall victim to your vulgarities. The lack of proper sleep makes your day go by twice as slowly, nodding off and almost missing your stop and doomscrolling during work hours to pass the time, even turning to reading an article from The Daily Bugle, it’s laughable, it’s says something something Spider-Man, something juvenile delinquent something menace for the city.
The chime of little bells half an hour before closing wakes you up better than your alarm had done earlier in the day. Looking up from your phone you spot the same bright eyes and confident stroll that kept you company last night.
“You need to stop coming in right before closing.” You scold him. You’re confident he’s aware that it’s an invitation for him to keep showing up.
“My bad. Do you like food?”
“I-What?” Indeed, what? “I like food, yes.”
“Peng. You want to grab dinner?” And he also needs to stop proposing last-minute plans.
“Where?”
“What do you fancy?”
“Thai?”
“Sure.” 
“I close in half an hour, you can stay here if you want.” Not that you’re expecting any more costumers.
He asks if he can help with anything and you hand him the broom and dustpan that hangs in the back of the shop, he laughs and takes it as payment for having you get out earlier. The floors aren’t dirty per se, it’s mostly leaves and bits of cutting that have fallen. He sweeps while you get everything ready for tomorrow and put away what’s been used today. Half an hour later you hang your work apron and close the shutters. 
There’s a nice restaurant a couple blocks away you’ve got food to-go from before. You order a spicy noodle soup, khanom jeen nam ngiaw, and he settles for stir-fry noodles. It’s good, warm and comforting, you take a bite from his plate and he follows suit with a spoonful of your broth. The conversation picked up while cleaning and it has yet to die down, he tells you about his hobbies—you can't help to make fun of him by saying Hobie's hobbies—and you share your love for museums with him, ‘We should visit one.’ he says to which you agree in excitement. 
You don’t let go of his hand until your bedroom door is closed and you softly push him into bed. Taking only a short break to take off both of your shoes you don’t waist time in straddling him, his hands on your hips as you return to kissing. Soft moans mark the tempo for your exploring hands and you stare at his bare abdomen with much less shame than you think you should have. His hands are slightly calloused and scarred, it doesn’t matter with how skilled they are. It feels like you’re drowning in him, you hope he feels half as good as he’s making you feel, if his breathless mutters of ‘fuck’ and ‘good girl’ are any indicator you can pat yourself on the back after it’s over.
The dinner is paid for, the night chilly compared to the warmth inside the restaurant. He offers to walk you home again, this time you agree because you’re no longer strangers, right? You make it half of the way before puts his hand on your lower back, you don’t make an effort to move it, it’s comfortable.
You make it three quarters of the way until you start kissing, your back against the wall of a mildly busy street, you feel like a horny teenager. You climb up the stairs to your flat two-steps at a time, your hand holding his and praying that your flatmate has confined herself to her room so you don’t have to introduce one to the other, not right now at least.
The morning after your alarm not only scares you awake but it also makes him sit up in bed with a jolt.
“Sorry.” Sleep is still evident in your voice.
“S’okay.” He replies before giving you a chaste kiss on the lips, you don’t think either of you wants to deal with each other’s morning breath, it’s a tad early for that.
You offer him breakfast. Your flatmate has left for work but she won’t forgive you if you don’t tell her of last night’s events. At least it won’t make this morning awkward, or more awkward than it already is, it happens with first breakfasts: sleepy, a mess, cranky from waking up, it’s not anyone’s best look. 
You take the underground while he chooses to walk home, it’s not crazy far away from yours, apparently. In the meantime, the work day is spent looking up frantically every time the bells over your door chime, hoping that it will be him at some point. He does come over, at ten past eight, and he has to knock on the door to catch your attention. Your strange arrangement goes on for the better part of the next two months, he comes over when you’re about to close, you eat together multiple times per week, he’s quite a skilled at making exactly seven different dishes, he invites you to his shows and you’ve met his bandmates, you’ve had every cliché date imaginable: the park, the cinema, the natural history museum, markets, the full deal. You don’t call them dates though, you’re not a couple even with all the kissing and sleeping together—literally and figuratively—he’s told you he doesn’t like labels, but he’s being exclusive with you so you’re okay with it. 
He shows up with little cuts and bruises, you attributed to being clumsy at first but it’s become more common lately, he excuses it as a protest that went south, a moshpit or just a friendly scuffle with his mates. It doesn’t ease your nerves. But you're soon to forget all about it once you’re outside, walking hand in hand and sharing headphones, he’s incorporated bits and pieces of your music to his playlist and he makes sure to show you the songs he thinks you’ll like first than anything.
Your phone lights up with a text notification from Hobie, he’s coming over soon. It shouldn’t be, but it reads as ominous, he doesn’t usually tell you in advance and would rather showing up unannounced.
“Hey pet.” He greets, it’s his latest nickname for you, you’ve always thought it ridiculous but he’s making you grow fond of it.
“Hi Bee” An animal-related nickname you gave him after he tried calling you ‘duck’ that has stuck. “You want to do something or should we head home?”
“Home’s fine, I’m tired.” It’s fair, he’s always running around doing things, you’re okay with a night in. 
He sweeps the floor, it’s his assigned task, you feel bad but he says he doesn’t mind and likes helping you. The ride back to your place is quieter than usual, he seems pensive. You’re about to open the door to your building when you notice him stuck a meter away.
“Are you okay?” Your heart is picking up speed.
“Listen, love.” Oh no. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to come up.” You’re on the second and final step of the stairway while he’s at ground level, he looks smaller than he’s ever been. “I’ve had a lot of fun, really, but I don’t think I can go on with our thing, you know? I’m not good at commitment anyway.” Your lack of a response get’s him speaking again. “I’m truly sorry, I just don’t wanna go on with this and end up hurtin’ you.”
“Okay.” Is the only thing your brain is able to formulate.
“Okay.” He replies. “I’ll be leaving now.” He says as he kisses your temple, turning around and giving you a single wave of the hand for a goodbye.
You feel the tears beginning to fill up your eyes, your vision blurry, at least you were able to hold them until he left, it’s already embarrassing as it is. You don’t bother re-heating dinner that night, choosing to go straight to bed and waking up with puffy eyes in the morning. For the first time in a while you’re sure you won’t have any visits at work, it’s terrible. You feel stupid. He told you enough about himself to know that the two of you weren’t in for a long-term relationship and still you held onto some sort of hope of being an exception. 
That was two weeks ago. You’ve seen him two times since, while leaving for home. He waves your way and you wave back, out of politeness more than anything. Two weeks of radio silence that break your established routine and fill you with a sense of expectation during the last hours of work. 
It’s nine-twenty on a Sunday, it’s usual for you to stay until late at the end of your work week, Hobie knew that and would make sure to keep you company and take you home those days. The early November weather has made it so it’s already been dark for hours, the city is rather calm, you don’t suppose there’s much to do on a cold November night. A series of knocks on the door alerts you of the presence of someone outside, it startles you as you hold the broom you were using against your chest.
Nothing could have prepared you for the sight outside the door. Spider-Man was doubling down and leaning against the glass of your shopfront, electric guitar strapped across him and hanging in his back, clad in his usual metal decorations while his suit had been torn. You let him in a hurry, it’s not ideal to have an idol of the working class dead on your welcome mat. He limps to the back of the shop, in your current state of panic you don’t stop to wonder how he knows the way so well, until he’s sitting on the floor and leaning against one of the walls, guitar forgotten besides him. You follow him and crouch at his side just in time for him to take off his mask. 
“Fuck off.”
“Hi pet.”
You were so excited to be done with work and head home to watch a film, lucky for you, your ex-situationship still has a habit of coming in right before you leave. 
“Bloody hell Hobie.” 
“Please don’t be shocked right now, we can talk about it tomorrow.” He can’t be serious. “I’m knackered.” I wonder why, you think. He looks like proper shit.
“Hobie you’re bleeding.” You’re trying your best to be helpful and not panic.
“It’s fine love, it’ll heal in no time, I kinda have superpowers.” You’re choosing to ignore that and get up to retrieve your first aid kit, it’s far too basic to be useful right now, only equipped to help with cuts and minor injuries.
You can feel his eyes on you and your whole body is shaking as you kneel by his side. You try your best to keep your hands steady while pouring rubbing alcohol into a cotton pad.
“You don’t have to, I’ll be fine.”
“Let me clean it, please, so it doesn’t get infected.” He lets you, wincing at the alcohol making contact with his open injuries. He knows you're doing it more for yourself than him. “Sorry.” He shakes his head as a way of saying ‘no worries’.
You reach for his face with your bare hand once you’ve considered him clean enough, you cradle his cheek and can’t hold your tears from spilling.
“This is why I cut thing off with you, you know? Don’t wan’ you getting hurt.”
“I don’t care.”
“Don’t say that.” He pleads. 
“What about you getting hurt? Does that not matter?” He laughs and winces right after.
“You’re a sweet thing. I don’t have a choice but you do.”
“And what if my choice is to stand by your side?”
“You can’t.”
“Yes I do!” You’re reaching tour breaking point and can’t help but raise your voice. “I didn’t know I loved you as much as I do until these last weeks without you. It’s been torture.”
“It’s been torture for me too.” His words soften you, and it’s only then you realize what you said, you don’t dare acknowledge them, maybe he didn’t notice or the head trauma will make him forget it.
You’re crying now and it feels awful because you should be the one comforting him, he’s hurt not you. He holds you as you shake and places a kiss to your head.
“Can we sleep here?” He asks once you’ve calmed down. The tile floor is anything but comfortable and still you nod yes.
You fix a make-shift bed consisting of your bunched up jumper and apron for pillows and your big coat, that barely covers his upper body, for a blanket. Not that it matters, you chose to turn the radiator up and it’s hard to get cold while curled up to a human heater. You’re careful while laying with him, both out of fear of hurting him and prudence of this hurting you even more. He doesn’t care and brings you closer, your head on his chest and his hand drawing shapes on your back over your clothes, you can’t help but worry about the state of his back in the morning. 
You find sleep easier than you have since your “break-up”, his rhythmic breathing lulls you and his caresses calm you down. You’re in the before-falling-asleep-limbo when you hear his voice, he says “I love you too” like a confession secret, you’re not sure if you were even supposed to hear it. It’s too late for you to react, his words mix with the beginning of your dreams into a spiralling nonsense.
🕷 i really enjoyed writing this! i was thinking of maybe doing a part 2? tell me your thoughts if you dont mind too! i haven't written anything that isnt academic in years and i feel rusty
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sempsimps · 5 months
Text
Gregory Violet head cannons + NSFW
Season 4 of black butler has me thinking about a certain emo (Gregory not ceil but check out my friend @serve-corps if your into that) but like omfg he's so fine what for and like man wears lipstick I just he's so adorable I've never wanted to own the manga more in my life he's so- I should stop but like aaaaaa so this is head cannons mixed with actual cannon that was on the fandom wiki so that's fun I was thinking of writing a full story later but for now....
this is head cannons, and at the bottom, I'll have a warning for my nsfw thoughts. lol, just remember you're responsible for your Internet consumption, but before i get into this, it's all my opinions. Don't take it as gospel or anything like that, im having fun, alright? okay then.
Little head cannons
-he likes poetry. He gives that vibe like come on...(literally an hour later) Okay, so like, just seen a manga page of him drawing a jabberwocky around ceil like a sleep paralysis demon. a little back story on this particular poem is "a nonsensical poem about the killing of the jabberwocky" in 1871, apparently. this is very relatable to ceil and Gregory alike and like Google it for real (so like I was completely right about that and I didn't even know)
he smells like a mix of charcoal and acrylic paint like dusty but kinda nice, ya know (i go back to this further down)
-why dose he seem like he has autism, i cant explain it but, i have it to, so I'm not trying to be rude, but the bowtie he wears is like a normal tie but looser and nicer. and i hate ties, so i feel that in my soul. he also seems like he wouldn't like synthetic material idfk. also social situations suck, his voice is mostly monotone and quite, its not the typical "not understanding cues or not getting jokes" but its more like a social anxiety thing, and that's usually diagnosed with autism i think? (I'm not a doctor i don't really know. Maybe I'm projecting here a little)
-he's like defo bi or pan or perhaps an ace group. I'm not that educated on that lgbtq+ aspect apologies but that's the vibe (again, that's my opinion)
Dating head cannons male or female [brackets if pointed to someone with tits lol]
-bones. Need I say more? I like bones and rocks soooo be like, otters give him a bone (not like that-) or rocks he strikes me as a rock guy like smooth ones. idk how, but just get one he deserves it.
-painting dates if you struggle, he can easily guide you through it, his hand gently moving to help you use the right brush stroke. he's clearly more skilled in pencil/charcoal works, though we haven't seen much else [that takes skill and I take art like damn that's difficult]
-So apparently the sun and dancing makes him dizzy (it was on the fandom wiki) so definitely have water on hand and well he doesn't seem like the type to like anything plain becuse of the drink mixing so water is a no go to boring and i get that so grab one of those ball tea infusers and make flavoured water he can put the flavours in it like idk lemon slices and let it sit in the water maybe add suger (wait thats just flat lemonade lol whatever I'm a genius ik don't flatter me)
-stolen hoodie? Nah, stollen emo robe looking ass. it seems everyone in purple house has one, and well, yall could swap, or ya know, just wear his. if he has another obvious man is never seen without it, it could be a comfort for him. but like, he seems like he would have a bigger one, and it would smell so nice like charcoal and acrylic paint (that i mentioned earlier). Don't question it, but you can smell that, right? but there's a hint of passion fruit becuse he's trying for you (aw how cute) you can not tell me he doesn't like perfume and like its either passion fruit or cola adjacent like i know it probably wasn't around at the time but like you can see it (maybe i based this on a meme i found but shush)
-you paint each others nails need i say more? and even if you dont like/want to, he would just like to take time off with you to do his own or you do his. oh my god, I just remembered he wears eyeliner the same thing, but he likes you doing it. For some reason, you're better at it, and he doesn't want panda eyes.
-sneaking out at late to hide behind the boarding house, to just chill or chat, looking at the stars. It's a nice area, but yall gotta dodge the house master most of the time. Still, a little thrill never hurt nobody, just maybe given a Y or two if you're caught.
-hiding in your shoulder when the sun or people get too much to deal with. (I feel that so much)
-Gregory is a mix when it comes to pda. Overall, he doesn't like it could be a little overwhelming for him, but when yall with the other prefects, he might hold your hand, he's trying, and we love him for it.
-Gregory seems to observe his friends a lot, and so i think he truly values any relationships he has with anyone. on a whole, he usually draws people that are around him, like ceil, and i think i seen one of Lawrence. (idk i don't have the manga) so i think he would have a lot of sketches of you, be it in his work as doodles, or fully fledge charcoal drawings, maybe even a painting. but he values and enjoys being with you a lot.
-little snacks like fruit and chocolate almost like a picnic in the swan gazebo, but ya know not sharing with everyone unless Gregory wants to, also the fact your with the others in the swan gazebo is becuse, 1 your allowed to be there they've invited others before, 2 you get along with the prefects and drudges and they really don't care, 3 your either his drudge or the first two already applied before hand so you both seen no point in doing that.
okay, so i can't think of anything else wholesome to put down, and i just can't stop thinking, so now this is the warning I REPEAT NSFW BEOYNED THIS POINT!! ALSO HE IS 18-19 ACORDING TO GOOGLE
NSFW head cannons
- some general things, he's a switch or power bottom idk but i can see it so much he prefers you on top, though
-favourite body part would be chest. tits or not [but defo would love them so much like a stress toy] or the space between shoulder and neck, to hide in and bite....(he is a wolf lmao)
-right, so first off lipstick. oh my god... imagining it smeared in places and having prominent marks on your body made by him, like hickeys but removable. and like after he gives head, it would get so messed up on his face or you and just kissing him with it like that, getting some on your lips... (jesus, i need to touch grass)
-he likes art obviously, and well going back to the lipstick and hickeys, he wants to see what colour they turn, your like a brand new canvas just begging to be painted on by him, and honestly vice versa he's too pretty not to mark up..... (no comment)
-this is an all boys school they most likely don't have sex ed here and so you would have to teach him what to do but once he knows it kinda clicks right ya know [another reason i think he would just love titties becuse he wants to learn and i mean like he would get kinda fascinated with them] also he would be really sensitive in general and that's a great advantage to top (but hey you didnt hear that from me 0^0)
okay then that was that and ive run out of ideas now and i need to get this out of me ive got like 2 more things to write about this emo becuse i love and relate to him so much anyway hope that was good i try to be accurate even though this is head cannons and not real at all im still trying to be in character sorry if my writing sucks :)
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lunaastoir · 3 years
Text
fluff/relationships w the mondstadt crew
characters included: diluc, kaeya, and jean
gn! reader as always <3
tw: fluff??? domesticity??? crack??? ideal relationships w people who will never be real??? also mentions of alcohol!
an: so i’m back w a sequel to my “fluff/relationships w the liyue crew” since you guys seemed to really like it <3 thank you my heart is literally melting 😩 this post was getting too long so i excluded some of the characters but expect a part. 2 (more like part 3 but part 2 to the mondstadt version)! 
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diluc
man. this MAN.
that’s it, that’s the headcanon. 
he would literally be the most doting lover in the softest ways
SUCH a soft romantic like you thought you knew love??? nah this man will show you what love is
will constantly leave you things around the winery to convey his silent thank you’s and appreciation for you putting up with him being busy for most of the day
it’s always the most thoughtful things ever too like-
you mentioned how nice it would be to have some fresh lemonade with the hotter weather outside but it was too late in the day to actually go to the market in search of fresh lemons 
the next day you walked downstairs only to be greeted with a pitcher of cool lemonade with a side of lemon bars
there was a note attached to the handle of the pitcher <3 
“i recall you mentioning how lemonade would be perfect for the warmer weather so i decided to make some for you this morning. i hope it’s still cool by the time you drink it. love, d” 
pls sir your hand in marriage
he secretly loves it when you usher him to bed after waking up in the dead of night to see him working by candlelight on reports 
soft hands on his cheeks gently whispering about how, it’s been far too long and come to bed, darling and there will be time for this in the morning
his protests are light given the dark purple hues under his crimson eyes but he’ll still make a little fuss 
don’t let this man fool you tho he’s so so touched that you care enough to check up on him and drag him to bed!!
sometimes on the days he has a bit more free time, the two of you will quickly grab your dinners and race to the highest spot in the winery to watch the setting sun
these moments are always filled with laughter, something you’ve found you’re easily able to pull out of diluc, simply because it’s you 
uncontrollable sobbing
he would let you paint his nails black like the angsty man he is 
frankly he would let you do anything to him if it makes you happy <3 
ok but wait diluc w bLACK NAILS?? AND RINGS??? i would die on the spot ⚰️
on the topic of makeup, this man is surprisingly really good w it 
i like to think he learned after practicing on kaeya when they were younger bc kaeya was really into makeup
you found out after babysitting klee one day and trying failing to draw eyeliner on the sweet girl after her “big brother ‘bedo!”
you hastily grabbed some wipes, gently wiping off the messed up design before attempting to dive back in 
diluc however, had some down time so he decided to check up on his favorite chaotic duo 
only to be met with a pile of dirtied makeup wipes, your frustrated expression, and klee’s growing jitteriness 
swiftly moving to your side, he quietly asked if you needed help 
you glanced up quizzically before handing him the eyeliner, already looking around to find more makeup wipes when this inevitably goes wrong 
to your utter surprise tho the eyeliner is perfect??? two perfect winged lines??? in less than a minute??? WHAT
you just stood there like 😦 before diluc got back up and handed you the eyeliner 
you were short-circuiting, klee was ecstatic, diluc was worried about you 
ok last thing abt diluc 
crack! warning but the both of you like lowkey pranking kaeya 
for diluc it’s revenge on his annoying brother; for you it’s good - natured sibling rivalry fun 
every time the two of you see kaeya, one of you always swipes something of his 
small things really, it could be a pen or a handkerchief
one time, diluc swiped kaeya’s spare eyepatch and from the looks of it, kaeya’s only spare black eyepatch bc he was frantically looking for it yk he’s desperate when he even asked diluc if he saw it
the two of you spent an hour nearly laughing your asses off 
all in all, life w him is so sweet 
kaeya
pretty boy? pretty boy. 
while i can’t guarantee stability, life would never be boring w this man that’s for sure
piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 
he LOVES it, the feel of you on his back while he’s walking around mondstadt most likely carrying you to your commission 
he finds it comforting especially since he can hear the rumble of your voice against him while you recount stories, or just babble on about everything under the sun 
he is SO dramatic so obviously when y’all reach the site of the commission he has to kill all the monsters even tho the both of you agreed to split it up evenly 
he makes quick work of his set before stealing some of yours much to your chagrin 
you scold him but can you really be mad at him when he looks drop dead gorgeous freezing the hilichurls the answer is no, no you cannot be
oh my god ok wait-
he does this thing where he tries to spook you in public 
so say you’re getting groceries at the mondstadt general store
you round the corner just minding your own business, looking around, taking in the sunshine 
and suddenly you just hear someone drop in behind you but before you can register anything you hear a soft “boo” and hands circle your waist 
you jump SIKE let’s be honest you shrieked 
meanwhile kaeya’s just laughing his ass off 
you can hear his rich peals of laughter while you attempt to regain your bearings 
he does this so often you SHOULD be used to it but you really aren’t bc mans is SNEAKY-
he cards his fingers in your hair whenever you’re speaking 
he doesn’t know why, it’s just a cute habit and he finds the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing
oH on the topic of comfort, kaeya really likes resting two fingers on the back of your neck???
ik he seems like the type to throw his arm around your shoulder which yes he totally is but during more serious conversations his hand automatically seeks out the warmth of your neck 
your neck feels amazing especially during the warmer months due to his chilly fingers contrasting with your warm skin  
he likes that he’s able to access such a vulnerable part of you and you would willingly let him 
HE GETS YOU MATCHING OUTFITS
no i will NOT take criticism on this i just kNOW he’s that type of guy
it would be those stupid “i’m his” and “they’re mine” sweatshirts like BYE 
it’s so cringy but for some reason it’s oddly adorable and you truly despise it but you can’t seem to say no whenever he asks 
you pretend to ignore the look of pity diluc throws your way whenever he sees you like this
kaeya really loves accessories so i think he would be the type to give you a promise ring or something similar to show that he truly does care for you 
he would brush it off, flirting a little like usual before handing you the ring 
with the way his cheeks softly darken though, you know he’s being genuine 
TICKLE FIGHTS ik i mentioned this for childe but shhhh
he has tickle fingers??? his hands just loOK like they’re itching to tickle someone so you’ll most likely be the unfortunate victim 
he will not show you mercy. at all. he’ll tickle you until there are tears streaming from your eyes, your face is hot, and your voice is hoarse from laughing so damn hard 
it gives him such a rush of serotonin its SO CUTE 
i feel like this goes without saying but he’s super into pda,,, anything and everything is on the table 
hand holding? duh. ass grabs? ofc. carrying you bridal style around mondstadt? why not 
ik he’s typically very playful but once the relationship reaches a certain stage, he’ll slowly start to let down the walls that surround his facade 
very very slowly show you the more realistic parts of him 
the real, damaged pieces of his soul 
he’ll be carefully monitoring your reaction though, any sign of fear or disgust will have him recoiling within himself again and you most likely will never see his true nature ever again 
SO BE CAREFUL 👹
once you’ve seen the parts of him he’s offered to you, the hushed whispers of his past, and the uncertain lines of his future, he will take off his eyepatch 
pretends like he’s not super nervous but he’s SWEATING- 
the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen though hands down 
you can understand why he covers it up but you would like it if he felt comfortable enough to take off the eyepatch occasionally when he’s with you 
also!!! sleeps with his eyepatch side facing you (in the event he wears it to bed) 
if this happens you KNOW he trusts you bc it’s his blindside <3 
anyways life w kaeya will never be boring but he is a very complicated man 
stay with him though, i promise it’ll be worth it 
jean
the key to jean’s heart is coffee and food 
GET HER COFFEE AND FOOD
i am begging you she deserves it 😭
the poor woman works so hard bc the knights are so mf understaffed, this is literally the best way you can ever show her your love and appreciation when she has work
she will MELT if you have a hot shower and dinner waiting for her when she inevitably returns later than she promised
will completely refuse at first with, “you did not have to do this, it’s too much” but shush her as you shOULD bc she deserves the entire world 
she’s the definition of “you do something for me, i’ll return the favor ten times grander”
you leave a flower on her desk bc it reminded you of her??? you’ll wake up to find a whole bouquet of the prettiest windwheel asters you’ve ever seen the next morning along with a thank you note
she’s so sweet BYE
she gets flustered extremely easily so you obviously use this as an opportunity to tease her 
when you’re in public rest your hand on her waist and inch it higher until your hand is underneath her shirt and in contact with her warm skin 
she’ll actually short-circuit its quite adorable 
sometimes y’all will be cuddling and you’ll hear whispers of her insecurities 
“am i a good grand master? will i ever be as valiant as vanessa?”
reassure her!!! tell her that she doesn’t need to be like vanessa, she’s already amazing as jean 
if you haven’t seen her in awhile, track her down and schedule a lunch date 
she never misses appointments and if it’s for you, she’ll gladly make time to see you even if she has to stay up even later than usual 
OH-
GIVE HER MASSAGES 
she has so much tension and the sorest muscles from hunching over papers and running around on errands 
if you sneak into her office and quietly stand behind her before gently pushing down on the sore tendons of her neck, she’ll genuinely fall over on her desk 
so make sure you steady her 😀
after you feel how tight her muscles are though, you drag her to barbara bc she needs a healer asap 😭
while most of your time is spent in her office - you helping out in the ways you can while jean is overseeing knight duties - you still have your fair share of life outside of the favonius headquarters
jean never likes to sit still so whenever you have free time, the both of you head off looking for monsters to clear
bouken da bouken???
adventuring w jean is seriously the funnest thing you could ever do 
it’s just non-stop you accidentally getting into trouble and her having to come help you 
even tho the both of you are dead tired after fighting, what? 20 hilichurl camps now??? the laughter and joy in your eyes shows how you both truly loved every minute of it
it’s both a stress reliever, good fun, and a work-out <3
you’re definitely prone to getting dragged to angel’s share w kaeya 
kaeya and jean sometimes hang out after work at the tavern so inevitably you’re dragged along too 
all three of you are drunk out of your minds which just makes everything a MILLION times funnier 
kaeya slurring over his words makes the two of you start cackling endlessly while diluc just shakes his head making sure to not give you more wine despite your pleas 
angel’s share ft. kaeya and bartender diluc are always the best times fr fr 
life with her literally feels like y’all are married 
so much domesticity it’s so NICE ALJDKSFH
your house is always so clean and the color scheme is impeccable bc jean has such a good eye 
you have a chore schedule 😎 but it almost never works out bc jean ends up doing everything without you knowing- 
you always confront her abt it and she’s like 😁 “i had some time so i did them! no worries tho” like i- time??? where bitc-
oH- she has amazing style so you can bet shopping w her is literally the best experience 
she takes you to all of the hidden gems some places lisa recommended and helps you pick out things 
will 100% get really blushy if you come out in something and ask her for her opinion tho she’s literally the cutest
basically jean is a sweet girl who deserves the entirety of teyvat that is all. 
thanks for reading! if you have any requests don’t hesitate to send them in <3 
478 notes · View notes
dreamwritesimagines · 3 years
Text
Burn The Witch 12 - Bad Surprise [Bucky Barnes x Reader]
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.
Summary: Sometimes plans have to change.
Series Masterlist
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Every job required something from people, and your job was no different.
Being a spy was not a conventional profession, everyone knew that. You were expected to be on the move all the time, be a good liar, be a good fighter, be whatever the job told you to.
And most important of all; never show fear, which you were usually fine with. You had learned long ago how to keep your calm in times of crisis. You had even managed to keep your calm facade when your last mission required you to play Russian Roulette with a target in order to keep your cover.
But this? This was something else.
Bucky cleared his throat to stifle a laugh as he looked down at you.
“Is it just me or are you using me as a human shield against a peacock right now?”
Your eyes snapped up at his for a moment before you turned your gaze to the peacock again, taking a subtle step to Bucky’s right to keep him between you and the animal.
Coming to the zoo was his idea, and you thought it could be a fun experience. You had never been to a zoo before, and it would count as one of the old times dates, so you were almost giggly by the time you got there.
Right until now.
“I think peacocks don’t have souls.”
“Alright.” Bucky sipped his coffee while you tried to ignore the fear bubbling at the pit of your stomach, eyeing the peacock that walked around the area behind the fences.
“I’m serious,” you insisted “What if it attacks me?”
“It’s not going to attack you Y/N.”
“It could,” you said, “It looks like it wants to attack me.”
The peacock fanned out its feathers all of a sudden and let out a squawk, making you jump out of your skin.
“Fuck!” the curse left your lips and Bucky’s eyebrows rose, an amused grin pulling at his lips.
“Sorry!” you said quickly, “Sorry, I…I don’t trust peacocks.”
“You got mugged in a dark alley and got shot, and a bird is where you draw the line?”
Correction, you were once held at gunpoint by the Italian mafia and peacocks were still where you drew the line.
“That’s not a bird.”
“….Peacocks are birds.”
“No, that’s the devil looking like a bird,” you said, “In-in bird shape. Bird shaped demon.”
“Okay, how about we see some other less threatening animal?”
“Let me check—oh my God Bucky they have sharks, I love sharks!” you said, waving the brochure in his face and he pulled his brows together.
“Sharks fall under the less threatening animal category?”
“Of course they do!” you said, looking at the brochure before looking around, “I think the aquarium is over there, let’s go.”
You grabbed his hand to entwine your fingers with his as you both started walking towards the huge blue structure.
“So I feel like I shouldn’t ask because I know you can’t exactly tell me the details,” you said, “But you’re not going on another mission soon, are you? This week?”
“I don’t think so,” he said, “Why?”
“I’m kind of planning something.”
He tilted his head, “What are you planning?”
“Not a club, relax.” you said, “Although I find it quite ironic that you’re this unstoppable brave superhero with super strength who gets intimidated by dancing.”
“I’m not intimidated…” he grumbled under his breath, making you giggle.
“Whatever you say,” you sang, and reached the entrance of the huge building and you pulled your hand out of his.
“Excuse me sir, is the aquarium still open?” you asked the security guard by the door and a small smirk appeared on his lips.
“Yes but it is closing in ten minutes sweetheart.”
Sweetheart?
Jesus Christ….
You smiled politely at him, batting your lashes.
“Oh—“ you took a look at the sign, “I just want to see the killer shark and we’ll be out. In five minutes. Please?”
He eyed you up and down but seemed to snap out of it when Bucky cleared his throat behind you as if warning him, making the guy gawk between you two.
Even you had to admit you seemed like a quite unusual couple. You were wearing a short white sundress with ruffled sleeves and sweetheart neckline with your hair loose while Bucky looked as if he was there to kill someone, a complete opposite of you with his dark jeans and black leather jacket as well as leather gloves.
You didn’t even have to turn your head to know that he was glaring at the guard before the guy shifted his weight, then stepped aside.
“Enjoy.”
“Thank you!” you said, grabbing Bucky’s hand as you led him inside. He followed you without any objections whatsoever, in complete silence as the sight of blue filled your vision along with many fish swimming behind the glass.
“You don’t even see it, do you?” he asked softly and you pulled your brows together.
“Hm?”
“Does anyone ever say no to you?”
You approached the label by the glass, “You do.”
“Do I?”
“All the time,” you nodded, still reading the label but your head shot up when you felt him tug you by the hand. A giggle escaped from your lips as he turned you around so that you could look up at him, then wrapped his arm around you to scoop you up, making you squeal.
“Bucky!”
“All the time?”
“Put me down!” you said, your laughter echoing in the empty aquarium halls and he tilted his head.
“Not until you explain yourself,” he teased you, “All the time?”
“Sometimes, sometimes!” you said quickly, “Very rare times I might add!”
“Mm hm, I thought so.”
“If you drop me, I swear to God—“ you started but was cut off when he pulled you into a kiss, making you wrap your arms around his neck. He took a step with you still in his embrace and you gasped as you felt your back hit the thick glass, but every single protest you could think of seemed to disappear from your mind as you lost yourself in the kiss. You raked your fingernails over the nape of his neck, making his grip around you tighter-
Then someone coughed.
Bucky pulled back instantly and you turned your head to see another rather annoyed technician leaning on her hip, watching you with her brows raised.
“Aquarium is about to close,” she said, pointing at you, “Take it elsewhere.”
Bucky put you down and you tried to fix the skirt of your dress, trying to look presentable.
“Sorry!” you said as Bucky mumbled an apology beside you as well, and the technician shook her head and walked away, talking about how she wasn’t getting paid enough for this. You covered your face and let out a whine but Bucky chuckled, causing you to lower your hands to stare up at him.
“Why is this entertaining for you?” you exclaimed and he held your wrist, gently steering you to the exit.
“Come on.”
“We can never come here again, ever.” you insisted as you followed him outside. It didn’t escape your notice that he bumped his shoulder into the security guard’s quite hard, almost knocking him over on your way out and your jaw dropped.
“That was mean!”
“Nah, he had it coming. Are you hungry?”
“But you could get in trouble. Besides, he was a nice guy—“
“Uh huh, a nice guy who was ogling you.”
You pulled your brows together, pretending to be confused, “Oh I’m sure you misunderstood.”
He tilted his head and pulled you closer to wrap his arm around your waist, then brushed his lips against yours, making you sigh.
“Bucky, it was mean and you can’t just kiss me to distract me—”
“I can try,” he murmured to your lips before kissing you again and you looked up at him when he pulled back with a grin.
“Fine,” you admitted, still pouting. “I’m hungry. Starving actually, let’s eat something.”
                                                    ***
You were finding it harder and harder to convince yourself it was time to go home after every date with Bucky.
Scratch that, you were finding it harder and harder not to invite him upstairs.
But of course, you would have to report it back to the General and discuss the further strategies with him and for some reason, it felt more of a betrayal than this whole thing.
Surprisingly enough, it was something you wanted and not something you would will yourself to do because of the mission. There was no denying it, he was an attractive guy and you really liked spending time with him and you kept having dreams about him and whenever you were with him you had this lightness in your mind, as if you were a different person.
A better person, maybe.
You shook your head at your thoughts and left your apartment to knock on Keith’s door.
“It’s me, open up.”
You heard footsteps before he opened the door and a boyish smile pulled at his lips at the sight of milkshakes in your hand.
“Jesus, finally!”
“I made it at home, can’t promise it’s good,” you said as you walked past him into his apartment and stepped into the living room, “What are you watching?”
“James Bond,” he grinned at you, “Hey, have you ever tried milkshake with gin?”
“No?”
“Me neither, let’s try it.” He said, taking the big glasses from you to pour gin into them. You sat on the couch and took a look at the screen.
“How many times have you watched this again?”
“Like a hundred,” he handed you your glass and you took a sip.
“Not bad,” you commented, putting your feet up on the coffee table. He sat beside you, keeping his eyes on the screen.
“What did you do today?”
“Had a date.”
“With Barnes?”
“Yeah. At the zoo.”
“He took you to the zoo?” he asked and you nodded.
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And peacocks are fucking scary,” you muttered, “And hey, we learned that Bucky is the jealous type.”
“The guy was dating people back at 40s, I could tell you that much myself.” He snorted, “Chloe says you went on a mission with Julian?”
You slipped a little on the couch, “He’s an asshole.”
“I know. Is he really that bad in bed?”
You shrugged your shoulders, “Nah as much as I hate to admit, he’s pretty good. Unfortunately.”
“So top or bottom?”
“He goes either way to be honest, that comment was more about me.”
“About you?”
“Yeah, I like to be on top.”
“Suddenly everything about you makes sense,” he murmured and you took another sip of your milkshake.  
“Don’t try that with Barnes though, the guy is from 1940s. He’s probably used to missionary only, you don’t want to give him a heart attack,” he wiggled his brows, making you scoff.
“Shut up.”
“Chloe is right, maybe you should go full on vintage on that when the time comes.”
You turned to look at him.
“Speaking of Chloe,” you said, “Anything you would like to tell me?”
Keith’s grin faded slightly and he shifted his weight, “Like what?”
“Bringing her coffee, taking her out to the field…” you trailed off, “What gives, man? I thought we had a deal.”
“We never had a deal,” he defended himself, “You slammed me back during training years ago at the academy and told me not to even think about it when you saw me looking at her.”
“No,” you shook your head, “Five years ago, in Ireland. That undercover job, the one that almost got you killed? We made a deal.”
He swallowed thickly, looking down at the milkshake before taking a sip. “Y/N…”
“Keith, you can’t,” you insisted, “She deserves a normal life, a normal family and kids and a dog and stuff.”
“I know,” he ran a hand over his face, “I know.”
“Then?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re a spy,” you said, “You said it yourself, spies die like flies.”
“Not all of them,” he said, “General is still alive. He has a family.”
“Yeah, one in a hundred,” you said, “Face it. That’s a very low possibility for us.”
“You don’t think you’ll get to grow old and have a family and all that?”
You pulled your brows together.
“No,” you said, “Of course not. I’m probably going to die in one of these missions.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“Keith, I can’t have any of those,” you said, “I can’t. I…it’s impossible.”
“Don’t you want to?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you muttered, “I made my choice ages ago.”
“Y/N,” he sat up straighter, “Do you want to?”
With a very bad timing, your imagination went overdrive and a strange scene flashed before your eyes. You laughing in Bucky’s arms, watching two kids playing in the garden-
You shook your head, trying to shake off the thoughts.
“I could never have that,” you stated simply, “You might love Chloe and you might also be lucky enough to have her love you but…it’s not the same with me.”
“I’d say Barnes loves you.”
A bitter smile pulled at your lips and you bit inside your cheek, taking another sip of your milkshake.
“He loves someone who doesn’t exist,” you managed to croak out, “He loves my cover. He could never love me.”
                                                           ***
Spending the night at Keith’s and drowning your sorrows in gin and milkshake meant that you would have a killer hangover the next day. Unlike Keith, you didn’t have the luxury to sleep until the noon, seeing that you had a cover job to keep so for the whole day until noon, you walked around like a zombie.
Coffee helped though. Just a little.
Thankfully it was a slow day at the shop. After serving a couple of people, you had nothing to do other than seriously considering sticking your head in the freezer to get rid of the hangover.
“Long night?” Tara asked as she walked past you to put the straws into the cup and you nodded, groaning.
“Remind me not to drink, ever.”
“I make that promise to myself every Monday, does not seem to work.”
You chuckled, “Have you ever tried to mix gin into milkshakes?”
“No?”
“Don’t,” you shook your head as you helped her to move an empty milkshake container into the kitchen. “It’s a terrible idea and I’m experiencing the consequences of that mistake right now.”
“That sounds like a fun night though.”
“Fun night, terrible morning,” you let out a laugh as you walked out of the kitchen but as soon as you did, your eyes caught the sight of the man in the shop. Your smile was wiped off your face as the familiar anger filled your system.
Jesus Christ, this day sucks.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked and Julian had the audacity to shoot you a grin.
“Whoa cute outfit,” he said, eyeing you up and down, “Holy shit I didn’t even know I was into this whole thing, I’m having an epiphany.”
You looked over your shoulder to see if Tara was still in the kitchen, then turned to Julian.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was craving milkshakes,” he stated, “Hey, would you recommend Lavender Macaron?”
“Get the fuck out of here.”
“I think I’m gonna go with Lavender Macaron, makes me think of France,” he said, “Fun times.”
“Fun for you maybe.”
He shot you a look, “Come on Y/N, we didn’t leave the honeymoon suite for two days. That was the greatest-“ he lowered his voice, “Mission I’ve ever had.”
“You’re putting this entire operation in—“ you started but stopped talking as soon as Tara walked out of the kitchen. Julian raised his brows for a moment before smiling at her and you went under the counter to grab his arm.
“Y/N, is everything okay?”
“Just peachy,” you said as you dragged him out of the shop, and he heaved a sigh, following you.
“No I’m serious…” he said with a chuckle as soon as you both stepped outside, then motioned at the uniform, “This is something else.”
“Why are you here?”
“I heard that it was good, I did not think it was this good.”
“I’m seriously two seconds away from punching you.”
“How come you never dressed up like this for me when we were dating?”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” you insisted and he shrugged his shoulders.
“I was around.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that?”
“Believe whatever you want,” he said, “Your shop has good rating, although I’m beginning to believe it has less to do with milkshakes and more about the waitresses.”
“Julian I swear to God—“ you started but you were cut off when someone cleared his throat, making both you and Julian turn your heads. Your stomach dropped as soon as you saw Bucky watching you two with a frown and you withdrew your hand from Julian’s arm.
“Bucky,” you breathed out, “Um-hi.”
“Hi,” he said without taking his eyes off Julian, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head.
He was trying to decide whether he was a threat to you.
“I didn’t…I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I figured I could drop by,” he said, crossing his arms, “What’s going on?”
Fuck.
Fuck, you had no idea how to turn this around. Thankfully neither of you had said anything about the mission, so it was more than likely that Bucky just knew you knew each other, but other than that, your cover wasn’t blown.
“Nothing! Nothing at all, he’s just—“ you stammered, trying to come up with an explanation, “He’s um—“  
“Oh come on Y/N, don’t be one of those secretive people,” Julian said, “You hate secrets. You’re Bucky, right? I heard about you.”
Bucky just raised his brows, his glare on him unwavering but even if it was quite chilling, Julian was a trained assassin just like you were, so he was used to it. Instead he curled his lips, looking between you before offering him his hand.
“I’m Julian,” he introduced himself, shooting you a grin as if you two shared an inside joke “The evil ex-boyfriend who’s gonna take her from you.”
Chapter 13
643 notes · View notes
frankiekatt · 3 years
Note
Wowy hii, saw that you're writing for slasher, so here I am!
Can I plz have some hcs about any slashers with s/o, but their s/o is a literal gremlin, like they're not serious at all, always joking and annoying people around, but sometimes might be quite soft and quiet.
Thank you and have a nice day! ❤️
This was fun to write lmao
Warnings: Sexual harassment, NSFW, murder, blood, canabilism
Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Billy Lenz, Stu Macher, Michal Myers
Slashers With An S/O That Never Takes Anything Seriously:
Thomas Hewitt:
Thomas is a little overwhelmed by your personality at first.
He’s a quiet and reserved man who’s never had any kind of friends, so goofiness and jokes can make him feel uneasy at first.
But!! He gets used to everything very quickly!!!
Thomas loves everything about you and he finds you to be incredibly charming.
He can get a little anxious when he sees you annoying Hoyt because he doesn’t want his uncle to do anything bad to you in irritation/retaliation.
Your jokes are always a stress reliever for him, since he spends most of his days in a dark basement, surrounded by blood and gore. Your humor just shines a little bit of light on his day, and he loves you for that!
While Luda Mae and Hoyt might not like the fact that you never take anything seriously, Thomas finds it relieving. At the beginning of your relationship, Thomas was terrified of losing you because he thought you would be terrified of all screams, murder, and cannabilism, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that you didn’t pay much mind to it.
Thomas’ family mostly saw you as a clown, but Thomas could only ever look at you as the brightest ray of sunshine that has ever graced his life.
After all, he was the only one that saw your softer side.
Your soft and quiet side mostly shone through during the evening. Something about the sunset and cicada chirping calmed your heart.
You would often take Thomas by the hand and lead him outside to sit on the front porch with you, so the two of you could cuddle and watch the sunset together.
Thomas was always so used to your voice, because you loved to talk about anything and everything, so your temporary quiet nature was new, yet comforting.
During these moments, there didn’t need to be any talking between the two of you. You deep emotional bond allowed you both to communicate through actions.
You would lay your head on Thomas shoulder, stroking his chest, and Thomas would wrap his big arms around your smaller frame, resting his masked cheek against the top of your head.
This was Thomas’ way of saying, “I love you, you’re the best thing in my life,” and your way of saying “I could never live without you.”
Bo Sinclair:
:|
You’re gonna annoy the fuck out of this boy
Sometimes you both wonder how the two of you even got together, but the nights you and Bo spent pleasuring each other, going round after round, reminded you both how. (Your both just sexy okay its that simple)
Bo was a serious guy, so he was a little miffed that he was always the one having to take the lead in everything since you just couldn’t stop making a joke out of everything.
Sometimes you would actually make him really irritated due to your tendency to irk people endlessly, so he would have to step away to cool off and blow off some steam.
Sometimes he would yell at you in anger, which always made him feel like shit after, so he tended to stalk off to his shop to calm down before speaking to you.
You would have to go see him a couple hours later to wrap your arms around him from behind and shyly apologize to him.
He favored these moments the most.
Your voice quieter than usual, focusing on just him, touching him gently.
He would always accept your apologies, of course, and would let you know by kissing your lips softly.
Bo liked to take advantage of your softer side by lifting you up by your waist and setting you on the hood of whatever car he had been working on and kissing down your neck.
As revenge, Bo liked to draw out his teasing as long as possible. Kissing down your neck, chest, stomach, massaging your pussy through your skirt, palming your breast roughly.
It gets to a point where you just have to tell him, “Bo, I need you to fuck me.”
And he would oblige.
He would take you right then and there, on the hood of the car.
The metal beneath you was always shockingly cold, making you shiver against Bo’s chest.
“You cold, Darlin,” Bo would ask teasingly as he pulled your panties off. “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you right up.”
He would spend hours licking your pretty pink pussy if he could. He licks and sucks and kisses your most intimate part until you're shaking and crying above him, begging him to fuck you sensless.
After he’s satisfied with your helplessness, he’ll lean back up and ram himself inside of you. There have been many nights where he has taken you gently and slowly in his garage, holding your hand with every thrust, kissing your sweet lips to quiet your whimpers, but tonight was different. There was a primal need shared between you two. Bo wanted to let his frustrations on through loving you, and you wanted to be taken hard and fast.
When the two of you are done, you lounge around inside the car to catch your breath, holding hands. Everything seems so perfect.
Until-
“Hey, Bo? What did the toaster say to the slice of bread?”
“.....”
“I want you inside me! Eh ha ha..”
:////
Lester Sinclair:
!!!!!
You like constantly joking and never taking things seriously? He does too!!
Lester would find you absolutely hilarious. Every joke you cracked would have him doubling over in laughter. Which would make you double over in laughter. Which would make Lester laugh harder, because now you both have the giggles and both of your laughs are just too infectious.
Everytime the two of you would go to Ambrose to visit his brothers, you guys would annoy the hell out of Bo and Vincent. Bo just wants to be left alone to work in his shop but instead he’s stuck listening to you tell a 40 minutes story about how you burnt dinner last night.
And Vincent just wants to be left alone to paint and sculpt but instead he’s here listening to Lester crack jokes that are a.) not funny and b.) don’t make any sense. -_-
Your and Lester’s trailer is always filled with so much love and laughter and the two of you could not be any happier.
You both have your own soft and quiet moments that hit at random times.
Sometimes it happens when the two of you are play fighting in the living room, howling with laughter. You both fall to the floor, wrestling and giggling until the both of you run out of breath and just gaze at each other as you lay on the carpet.
“You look so cute,” he giggles.
“No, YOU look so cute!”
“W-well!!! I love you!!”
“Uhm...well...I love you MORE.”
And it just turns into an argument about who adores the other more.
Billy Lenz (1974):
The perfect couple.
Literally.
The two of you are always joking around, cackling and goofing about every little thing.
Billy has finally found his soulmate and he could not be happier.
He two of you prank the sorority girls together, making sex sounds in unison to sound even more vulgar.
Everytime you crack a joke, you get worried Billy is joking because of how hard he’s laughing.
“Umm Billy you okay? It wasn’t even that funny.”
“HA haha...piggy makes me laugh...Billy loves your jokes.”
Needless to say, your relationship is filled with smiles, laughter, and praise.
Billy will tell you you’re the funniest person he’s ever met and he wants to keep you forever.
You tell Billy you love how much he laughs at your antics and that you can’t live without him.
It’s impossible to annoy Billy. It’s just not feasible.
Any time you try, he’ll just giggle and pat your head, telling you you’re his ‘favorite piggy ever.’
He LOVES when you annoy the sorority girls thoug!
Hearing you moan and squeal and speak so sexily vulgarly to Barb and Jess makes Billy so proud. And horny.
Almost all of your sexual encounters are filled with complete silliness.
Sometimes, however, the joking and cackling subside. The two of you will just be chilling, nothing else to do, and you just feel the need to profess your love for your boyfriend.
“I love you so much Billy.”
Billy will look startled at your sudden outburst, before he breaks out in a huge grin, launching across the room to tackle you into a hug.
“Billy loves you too! Billy loves you more than anything!!!”
Now the rest of your day will be spent in Billy’s arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other.
Stu Macher:
Match made in Heaven!
Stu loves to joke around.
He hardly ever takes anything seriously.
He annoys everyone.
And once he meets you? It's love at first sight.
The two of you are always in detention because you guys just cannot shut up in class. You are always disrupting something.
But you know what that means!
Detention dates <3
As long as the two of you together, Stu couldn't care less about where he was.
He and Billy appreciate your habit of not taking anything seriously because once the murders start occuring, you don't think too much about it, never asking questions or arousing suspicion around your boyfriend and his bestie.
When Billy had told Stu his plan to kill Sydney, and asked him if he was going to kill you as well, Stu’s heart sank.
He remembers when he was dating Tatum, just a few months ago, before he broke up with her for you, he had no qualms about killing her,
But you?
He loved you. You were his other half. The one person who understood him, who accepted him. He could never hurt you.
“Nah dude. I’m leaving her out of this.”
That night, he sneaks through your bedroom window to see you.
“Stu! (where the hell have you been loca) What’re you doing here?”
The sparkling smile you flash at him and the love swimming in your big, beautiful eyes makes him feel even guitler.
He feels bad that you’re dating a serial killer. He thinks you deserve better, but he would never let you go.
“Hey babe! I just missed you!”
You rushed over to him, dressed in kitty cat pajamas, and hugged him tight. He had only snuck through your bedroom window a couple of times before, and they had all been planned. Seeing him in your room as a surprise made your heart burst with happiness.
Stu led you to your bed and pulled you up onto his chest to cuddle you. It was late, and the both of you were tired. Stu just wanted to lay with you in silence, appreciating your presence.
You didn’t feel like releasing your usual high energy at the moment. Right now, you just wanted to fall asleep on your boyfriend’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.
Michael Myers:
Girl
Michael does not appreciate your antics.
Annoying him is easy, but you would never know that.
He keeps his emotions very private, so when he is annoyed he’ll just stalk away from you.
He does not think you’re funny :(
He does enjoy your quiet moments. He likes to come home when your energy is low.
He’s usually covered in blood when this happens, so you clean him up without cracking a joke which he appreciates.
You’ll turn on a movie for the both of you, and Michael lets you cuddle up with him.
He does like you, he just doesn’t want you to know that...
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Text
Fingertips on me
5SOS Calum Hood fan fic
This was mainly inspired by the pretty nail polish Calum was wearing lately, so I ended up writing a random fic about it <3 not much else to say really, enjoy reading!!
Background: painting Cal's nails for him can be fun, but he's always a little impatient
Warnings: mild swearing, fluff
Word Count: 1.9k
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“Y/n?”
Calum’s voice echoed through the apartment, reaching all the way to where you sat on your shared bed, busily typing away on your laptop. You looked up as he came into the room, a box in his hand and a frown on his face.
“Hey, y/n, can you help me out here?”
“Sure, love, what is it?” You shut your laptop and pushed it onto the bed beside you as he came over, fingers dancing through the bottles of nail polish that were neatly arranged in the box.
“I need to pick a colour, and I don’t know what will suit best…” he hummed as he sat beside you, picking out a bottle of bright pink to see the colour, then dropping it back and checking another one.
“You’re painting your nails?”
“Yeah,” he looked up at you, a shy smile dancing over his face. “Me and the boys wanted to do a photoshoot tomorrow and we all decided that we’d do our nails, and maybe a little makeup or something for it.”
You grinned back at him. “That sounds awesome, Cal.” You leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder and watching his fingers sort through the bottles, making soft clinking noises with every movement.
“You know I love when your nails are painted,” you murmured, pressing a light kiss onto his arm. He stopped sorting through the bottles for a second, picking up on what you were doing before you had even started.
“Yeah?” He turned his head to look at you, his hand abandoning the polishes in favour of dragging a finger across your jaw, turning your gaze to him. He was sitting so close already, he just had to look down at your lips and you were done. How did he do this so effortlessly? His voice was low as he continued, “Well how about you help me paint them first, then you can look at them all you want.”
“Just look?” you said with a sly grin.
He smirked at that. “We’ll see. But we have to paint ‘em first, okay?” You just sighed as he turned back to the box, lifting out a bright orange one with a frown. “The fuck is this?” He spun the bottle around to read the label. “Sunburst Grapefruit. You couldn’t just call it orange could you? Pretentious bastards.” You chuckled at that, earning a smile from him.
“Do you know what colour you wanted? Did you guys have a theme in mind or something?”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Ash said he’d do red, and Luke’s are already silver I think. And Michael wasn’t sure yet but I’m assuming he’d do black or something, you know him.” Calum raised his eyebrow a little as he picked out a dark purple-ish colour, holding it between his thumb and finger like it was an object of disgust.
“I’ve literally never seen you wear half of these colours, y/n, why do we have so many?”
“Well you never know when you might need some-” you checked the label of the one he was holding- “Aubergine Maroon.” You laughed at his evident confusion.
“It doesn’t even look like an aubergine, damn it,” he said as he put the bottle back with a little laugh of disbelief. “These names are so fucked up.”
You just laughed at his mocking. “Ok, ok, give it here. If you’re just going to insult all the ridiculous name choices then we’ll be here forever.” You took the box and placed it in your lap, fingers running through the colours until you found a dark blue one, almost navy coloured, and pulled it out for him to inspect. He put his arm out behind you so he could lean back a little, his other hand reaching across to hold the polish for a second. He shook his head.
“Too dark. They said it would be a low light shoot,” he said.
You nodded and placed the bottle back in its place. “How about this one?” The cornflower yellow was certainly lighter. He screwed up his nose though.
“Maybe the cooler colours would be better,” he leaned forward to watch your fingers dance over the blues and purples, his head resting on your shoulder.
“Not green?”
“Nah.”
“Oh, how about this one?” You pulled out a baby blue colour, a lighter shade of sky blue. He hummed in thought for a second.
“Actually…yeah, that might work.” He reached out his hand to hold it.
“See,” you nodded at the pale bottle in his tanned hand. “It contrasts your skin nicely.” You smiled sweetly at him, making him laugh.
“Ok Miss Sunshine, now you can help me paint them,” he said with a smile as he took the box from your hand and stood. “Cause lord knows I’d fuck it up in two seconds flat if I did it by myself.” He walked out the door without checking to see if you were following.
“Come on, y/n, let’s go.”
---
“Shit, that’s cold!”
“What did you expect, tough guy? Quit whining will you,” you told Calum with a smile as you began painting his nails with the baby blue colour polish. You were sitting at the kitchen table now, his hands spread out in front of you as you applied the polish as neatly as you could, a frown creasing your brow as you concentrated.
“It tickles.”
“Shh.”
A moment of silence passed. A few more nails finished. Then his free hand started tapping on the table a little, the sound of his rings echoing on the wood as he started a beat. You looked up at him, eyebrows raised. He just smirked.
“Sorry.”
“Do you want me to paint your nails or not?”
It was hard to fight off the grin when he was staring at you so sweetly, mock innocence all over his face. “Yes, please.” He wiggled his fingers to bring your attention back to them. You huffed out what might have been a laugh as you went back to painting, quickly finishing off that hand and holding out your hand for the next one. He switched them over, placing the other hand in front of you as he blew on the freshly painted nails.
“You look like such a diva,” you giggled.
“That’s cause I am one.” He grinned, giving you an imaginary hair flick before blowing more on his nails. You laughed at him. What a dork.
You quickly finished up his second hand and screwed the lid back onto the bottle of nail polish. “There you go, Cal. Now just don’t touch anything for ten minutes and I’ll do the second coat for you then, okay?” You stood from the table, stopping in front of him when you noticed his pout.
You just raised your eyebrows at him. “Yes, diva?”
“But what am I meant to do for ten minutes?” his whiny voice was saying something completely different to his wide eyes as they watched you lean down in front of him, matching his sitting height.
“I’m sure you can find some way to amuse yourself,” you said quietly, eyes dropping to his lips, then dragging up his face back to meet his dark eyes. “Unless you can’t even do that by yourself.” You reached out and flicked his nose with a cheeky smile, tutting when he went to grab your wrist. “Uh uh, no touching, remember?”
“Not fair,” he mumbled, another pout turning his lips downwards.
“God, you’re pathetic,” you muttered as you straightened up. “Come on then. The sofa’s more comfortable.”
---
You flicked the TV on to play quietly as Calum went and sat on the sofa, careful not to brush the wet nail polish on anything as he went. He sat and looked up at you with a little grin, hands spread out on his thighs so he wouldn't bump them into anything. You just smiled and shook your head at him. He really was like a little kid sometimes.
You sat down next to him, remote in hand, surfing through the channels until you landed on a sports one. You knew he liked watching soccer matches, so you let that play.
Finally quiet and content, Cal just watched you as you tucked up your legs and leant into his side. He carefully lifted his arm and settled his hand on the back of the sofa, leaving room for you to properly snuggle into his chest, which you did. He was deliciously warm and cuddly in his big hoodie.
“You happy now, diva?”
He pressed a kiss to your head. “Mm hmm. Be happier if I could touch you though,” he whispered into your hair. You could hear his cheeky smile.
“Well just wait a few minutes,” you checked the clock on the wall, “then you can touch me all you want, princess.”
You casually lay a hand on his thigh as you pretended to watch the TV, slowly picking at the loose threads of his distressed jeans, and smoothing out wrinkles in the denim. Completely unnecessary touches, you both knew that.
“Y/n.”
“Mm?”
“Don’t.”
You smirked as you turned your head and leant back to look at him properly. “Don’t what?” you asked innocently, a hand still resting on his leg.
“Don’t be such a tease,” he almost growled, even as he fought off a little smile. “You could let me kiss you at least.”
“Okay, princess,” you said quietly, a smile quirking up the corner of your mouth.
That was all he needed to hear before he leant towards you, connecting his lips to yours ferociously. You could feel the strain in his arms as he willed himself not to touch you, to only taste with his lips. You indulged him for a long while, letting him bite at your lips and swipe his tongue along yours before you gently pushed him back with a hand on his chest.
“What’re you doing?”
You just looked at the clock, then back into his dark eyes. “It’s been ten minutes. They should be dry now.”
The smirk he gave you was pure evil as his hands were finally free of their invisible restraints, one coming to rest on your jaw and draw you in for another hungry kiss, then both hands slipping down to your waist as he quickly pulled you onto his lap. You gasped a little in surprise at the sudden movement, and you felt him smile into the kiss.
Your legs straddled him as his wandering hands came to rest on your thighs for a moment, before drifted back to your waist, then up and over your back. He couldn’t stop touching you now as his mouth explored your, drinking you in as much as he could.
You eventually parted for breath, a smile on your red and swollen lips as he looked up at you with wide eyes.
“Only ten minutes, and you were that desperate.” You said quietly, making him blush a little through a smile.
“Only for you, princess.”
“Hey, don’t steal my nickname,” you laughed as you swatted at Calum’s chest, before crawling off his lap.
“What, it’s cute,” he said as he offered you a hand to help you stand, chuckling at your clumsiness.
You just smiled in response as you went and retrieved the bottle of nail polish from the kitchen table. You came back and sat beside him again, holding his hand still against his thigh as you balanced the bottle on the coffee table in front of you, dipping in the brush and spreading the polish over his nails once more, easily falling back into the rhythm.
A moment of silence passed as he watched you, then, “How long will this one take to dry?”
You grinned at him, pure, evil delight on your face.
“Twenty minutes.”
Thanks for reading!! Check out my [masterlist] for more fics <3
(and thanks to @theduckgoesquack for helping me with this one, ily jocelyn 😌)
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fruitcoops · 3 years
Note
LOOPS RAILING CAP IN THE SHOWER - cause we all know he deserves it after a game
Not exactly after a game, but still some fun and frisky locker room shower times. Coops (and James) credit goes to @lumosinlove!
TW for smut, being sort-of walked in on (only after everything is said and done), cramping muscles
“Hurry up,” Sirius hissed as he teetered on one foot and accidentally dipped the toe of his sock into the water pooling beneath him.
“I’m trying!” Remus whispered back, still elbows-deep in his duffel bag. His face lit up and he rocked back on his heels with a small container.
“Absolutely not,” Sirius said immediately.
“It’s all I have!”
“Mon dieu,” he muttered, yanking his other sock off and kneeling by his own bag. “There is no universe in which that bullshit is going up my ass.”
“It’s Vaseline, baby, not battery acid.”
Sirius turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “It’s sticky, it’s slimy, and it’s cold as shit. You hate it, too!”
“Fair point.”
With a quiet, triumphant ‘ha!’, Sirius emerged with a small tube of clear aloe gel. “Who’s the Boy Scout now, sweetheart?”
“You’re the Boy Scout,” Remus grumbled, wincing as he stood and his knees crackled. “Alright, scoot, we don’t have a ton of time.”
“Oh, baby, talk dirty to me,” Sirius deadpanned.
Remus made a face to hide his smile. “Shut up, you.”
He peeked around the edge of the shower stall once more before backing up against the wall, then stifled a shout at the cold tile between his shoulder blades. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
“We do have a perfectly good shower at home.” Despite his words, Sirius could see the gleam of excitement in Remus’ eye as he was beckoned forward. The idea of maybe possibly maybe getting caught was a bit embarrassing if he thought about it too long, but it still sent a thrill through every nerve. That may have just been the feeling of Remus’ warmth on his front mixing with the chill on his back, though.
“Do you—” Sirius cut himself off with one more heated kiss, sliding a hand down Remus’ neck and laughing slightly at the squeak of his wet skin. “I wanna see you. Can you hold me up?”
Remus hummed, then pulled back with a thoughtful look. “Not before stretching. Sorry.”
“Pas de problem, mon coeur.” Sirius uncapped the aloe and handed it to Remus, using the side wall of the stall as a brace to hold himself up. He prayed his own tired muscles would do the job and not send them both tumbling to the floor in a heap of horniness.
“Here, let me…” Remus bit his lower lip and looped an arm under Sirius’ knee, lifting his leg around his waist. “Will that cramp?”
“Nah.”
He looked skeptical, but didn’t protest as he slicked his fingers and ran them down Sirius’ cleft. The water had finally started warming up to a more comfortable temperature; Sirius closed his eyes with a sigh and soaked in the feeling, letting the familiar tingles wash over him while Remus dragged his teeth along the side of his neck and the pad of his first finger slid in.
“You have magic fingers,” he murmured, gasping when cold air hit his pulse point. Whoever created aloe gel, I owe you a fruit basket.
He could feel Remus’ smile as his hitched-up thigh started trembling. “Merci.”
A door slammed down the hall and they both jerked in surprise—the digit rubbing gently around his outer muscle slipped very deep inside on very short notice and Sirius’ yelp was quickly muffled by Remus’ palm. “Fucking Christ,” he wheezed, torn between moaning in contentment and shrieking like a little girl at the sudden intrusion.
“Sorry, sorry, it was an accident.” Remus kissed his cheek. “Are you okay?”
“All good.”
“Will this be enough?"
“Considering we have—” Sirius did some awkward gymnastics to spot the wall clock. “—shit, just under an hour until the guys should start showing up, it’ll have to be.”
Remus chewed on the inside of his lip and glanced at the aloe. “I don’t know…”
“Hey.” Sirius cupped his face and kissed him. “This isn’t my first horse show.”
“Rodeo.”
“Same thing.” Remus’ lips twitched upwards and warmth spread all the way down to his toes, not just from the showerhead still spraying them like a firehose. “Besides, God knows you stretched me well enough last night.”
His concern turned to smugness and he crooked his finger slightly. “I did, didn’t I?”
“Bastard.”
The playful insult came out a little breathy as Sirius leaned his head back against the wall, losing himself to Remus’ practiced movements and damp, smooth skin touching him everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. Something blunt and quite a bit slicker nudged his entrance after a moment—after a slow exhale on Remus’ part and a whine from Sirius, he was in to the hilt with all ten fingers gripping Sirius’ hips.
“Oh, fuck.” Sirius was rather winded for reasons he couldn’t spare the braincells to name, and Remus laughed under his breath as he began to move. “Oh, fuck.”
“Shh.”
“I can’t.”
“I know you can.”
“I don’t want to,” Sirius corrected, rocking his hips to match Remus’ thrusts. His fingers began to get sore from holding the stall so tight, but heat was building in his gut and he was hard enough to almost hurt in the best way. “God, there.”
“Not god, just me.”
He flicked his arm with a teasing grin. “Smartass. This is exciting.”
“Uh-huh.” Remus caught him by the thigh as his other knee buckled after a particularly nice angle. “Can’t hold you, can’t hold you, baby—”
“Got it,” Sirius managed, propping himself up again. A clunky door echoed in a faraway corridor and he heard Remus’ breath catch. “Keep going.”
“Someone’s gonna hear.”
“So?” He quirked an eyebrow and wrapped his free arm around Remus’ upper chest, drawing him even closer for a kiss that was more tongue than lips. “That’s the whole point, right?”
“The point—” Remus punctuated his words with a harder thrust that left Sirius’ scrabbling for grip on the wet tiles with a shaky sound. “—is that we could get caught. We could get caught, and then everyone would see how whiny, and needy, and lovely you are while you’re begging for me.”
“Oh my god,” Sirius practically whimpered. He swallowed hard and wrapped his leg tighter around Remus’ waist.
The water was starting to lose some of its heat, but he was dizzy with lust, and pure pleasure dripped like wildfire through his veins. “Actually, I think they already know,” Remus murmured into the hollow of his throat, leaving a light bite there. “Our friends don’t need to find us fucking in the showers, do they? They just need to take one look at you and they’ll know that as soon as I get you between the sheets, you’re a wreck.”
Sirius’ eyes fluttered shut; he couldn’t seem to close his mouth anymore, nor could he muffle the short, guttural sounds slipping out with every quick movement. His left leg was completely numb; it was a miracle it hadn’t given out yet.
“But no,” Remus continued, hoisting him back up into the proper place with a huff. “No, we just have to be that couple that sneaks into the locker room an hour before call time because we just love to tempt fate.”
“This was—your idea—too,” Sirius panted.
“Yeah, because I can’t keep my hands off you.”
He melted into Remus’ palms as they ran along his ribs and back, then down to his ass to give it a firm squeeze. “Close?” he asked, half-slurred.
“Not as close as you.”
His free leg tried to buckle again as Remus stroked along his shaft, but he forced it to stay steady and settled for gritting his teeth around a loud moan that would surely give them away. Remus smiled and upped the pace, but kept his hips moving at the exact same speed. The contrast made Sirius’ head spin. “Please, please, please, please—”
Teeth sank into the junction of his shoulder and all the air fled his lungs. “What else do you want, baby?”
“I don’t know.” It came out far needier than he intended, but who cared? Stars were already popping at the corners of his vision, and he couldn’t even feel the lukewarm water very much anymore.
“Come.”
“I c—”
“Now.”
Sirius took one shallow breath, two, and then shuddered apart, leaning all his weight into the tiles while Remus pulled out and came on his inner thigh. Through his hazy vision, he saw they still had about forty minutes until any of the others would show up. “Love you. Oh, fuck yeah,” he sighed.
Remus made a questioning noise against his collarbone; Sirius felt his heartbeat pounding under his hand.
“We’ve got time to spare.”
“Thank god,” Remus said with a breathless laugh. “I don’t actually want anyone to catch us.”
“Sounds like a nightmare,” Sirius agreed. “I think I’d rather—”
“Sup, Mad-Eye?”
Both of them froze in place as a cheerful voice rang out down the hallway. Sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floors, drawing closer every second. Sirius had gone ice cold, but he didn’t think it was just the shower’s fault.
“Go, go, go!” Remus hissed, yanking away.
Unfortunately, Sirius’ thigh decided that was the perfect moment to cramp so hard it made his vision go white for a second. As soon as his foot touched the ground, his whole hamstring seized, and he doubled over with a strained “motherfucker!”
“Get up!”
“I can’t!”
James’ footsteps were getting louder. Sirius cursed under his breath and limped after Remus into the shitty little janitor’s closet in the corner, wedging himself next to a mop as he bit down on his knuckles to stifle the pained groans building in his throat. Remus shot him an apologetic look and squeezed his hand in sympathy.
The closet was not meant for much more than a handful of emergency cleaning supplies, let alone two mid-season-muscled hockey players. They were pressed chest-to-chest, holding their breath as doom approached.
Well, not doom. Just utter, world-ending humiliation. Not the kinky kind, either.
James whistled to himself as he neared the locker room—two seconds after Sirius buried his face in the side of Remus’ neck to breathe through the agony in his leg, the door slammed open and his best friend began clattering around.
All of a sudden, the room fell silent. Shit.
“Hello?” James called, sounding much too amused for his own good. “Anyone in here?”
Sirius’ pulse hammered in his ears.
“Huh. Looks like somebody left the shower on,” James said with a dramatic gasp. “And what’s this? Two whole duffel bags?”
Fuck, Remus mouthed as Sirius straightened up with a wince.
James started laughing. Deep, deep in his soul, Sirius knew he had spotted the aloe. The squeaking stopped just outside the closet. “Good morning,” James singsonged, though he didn’t open the door.
Remus opened his mouth, resigned, but Sirius jabbed him in the chest with his pointer finger and shot him a warning look. They weren’t going to engage in conversation while naked and crammed in a janitor’s closet. Especially not when James Potter was on the other side.
“I think it’s a little early for all this, but I could be wrong.” He could almost see James shrugging through the thick wood. “I suppose you’ve gotta take what free time you have. Cap, your showers are a lot nicer than these, though. At least they stay warm for more than a few minutes.”
Remus thudded his forehead against Sirius’ sternum.
“Alright, alright,” James said after a moment of quiet. “If anyone were to perhaps be hiding after getting off in the shitty team showers at seven in the morning—at least, I hope you got off—they should feel free to come out of the closet in a much more literal sense because I am leaving. And I will be out of the locker room for five minutes. Once again, that is five minutes, and then I will be back in here to get ready for my job like a responsible adult.”
The door opened and closed again with a click. They both waited with bated breath.
“Ugh, fine,” James groaned. The hinges creaked, his footsteps faded, and there was a loud slam as it shut for real.
“I’m going to kill him,” Sirius said as they shuffled out of the closet, knocking over several spray bottles in the process. “Really, I will.”
“I’ll help you bury the body,” Remus said wearily as he tossed the aloe back in his bag with a sigh. “That was horrific. Think we can sneak out and back in without him noticing?”
Sirius narrowed his eyes at the door. “The son of a bitch will be waiting for us. It’s better to just accept our fate and let him have this.”
“We’re putting shaving cream in his gloves after this, right?”
“Actually, I think Vaseline would be better.”
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jenstar1992-2 · 3 years
Text
Here with You
Pairing: Echo x reader/ Hunter x reader
Warnings: Mentions of nightmares/ trauma, reliving a traumatic experience, Order 66 (because it’s a warning in itself)
Word count: 7,103
A/N: Well, I knew it, it hasn’t been a whole day since I saw the Bad Batch premiere, and I’ve already gotten my first writing idea (yes, this took me like two days to write because I kept getting interrupted). I just couldn’t get the image of my poor baby Echo in that med bay and seeing the trauma those damned Separatists caused him out of my head. All I want to do is hold him and never let go, he deserves the world. This was originally just going to be an Echo x reader, but it turned into a Hunter x reader as well, because I just couldn’t help myself, I love them both, and wanted both of them to get some lovins. Also, I get the sense that Omega is a smart kid, and that she’s pretty well spoken, so I tried to write her as such, while still keeping that childlike innocence, so hopefully it comes across that way.
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So much had transpired within the last few days and you were still trying to wrap your head around all of it. The jedi had been almost entirely wiped out in a single day, and while you were certain their had to be other survivors besides yourself, you were unclear as to what that number was. Luckily for you, you had been amongst friends when Order 66 was given, and your men turned on you. If it weren’t for the Bad Batch, you were certain you wouldn’t be alive right now.
As you sat in the cockpit of the Marauder, the memories began to flood your brain, which caused involuntary tears to fill your eyes.
You and your men had been sent to Kaller to aid Master Billaba and her troops. However, upon your arrival, you were greeted with a pleasant surprise. It turned out, Clone Force 99 had been on planet already and had taken out a large amount of the droids before you even landed.
You had worked with this group before and had even enjoyed the experience. While your men thought their tactics and unprofessional antics were unnecessary and even a bit annoying, you found the group to be, for lack of a better term, fun. You had been around stuffy, uptight individuals for so long, it was nice to have a change of pace, and while your men were great, they tended to be sticklers for the rules and rarely wanted to take risks.
You also got along with this team rather well, enough to consider them good friends, but you were especially close with their newest recruit. You and Echo had known each other well before he joined the Bad Batch, even before his accident at the citadel, and had been friends for just as long, although as time went by and you found yourself encountering him more and more in your life, you slowly realized you might feel more for the trooper than you should, more than you’d ever admit aloud. So, when you’d heard of his survival and rescue, you had been elated, and that happiness resurfaced at the thought of seeing him again.
You exited the gunship and saw the rag-tag group of clones speaking with Master Billaba on the now quiet battlefield. They turned as you and your men made your approach. As you got closer to the group, you scanned the faces of its members before you found him, smiling brightly as your eyes connected, he did the same.
You came to stand before their leader, raising your gaze to meet the man’s unwavering stare.
“Sergeant”, you greeted him, extending a hand formally, which he took without hesitation, shaking it firmly.
“General, good to see you again”, he said with a smile.
“You too”, you responded.
You’d always liked Hunter, from the beginning he’d always struck you as a respectable man, and you admired the fact that he could allow his men to be their reckless selves while also keeping them in line, but only when necessary, it seemed. There was something else too, something you hadn’t noticed right away, but after a few more encounters with the man, you put it together, coming to an all to familiar realization, one that brought butterflies to your stomach, while also bringing about a slight anxiety. How could you let this happen, it was bad enough falling for one man you couldn’t have, but two, you were sure the universe was out to hurt you.
“General (L/N), I’m glad to see your trip was a safe one, and better late than never I suppose”, Depa said, drawing you from Hunter’s gaze to hers.
“Sorry Master Billaba, we were assisting Masters Luminara and Yoda on Kashyyyk when we got word of your need for reinforcements, we got here as soon as we could”, you said, then looking around at the desolated droids scattered across the landscape. “Although, from what I can tell, you seem to now have a handle on things.”
“Yeah, thanks to these guys”, Caleb, Depa’s padawan, exclaimed, gesturing to the group of men before you. “You should’ve seen it, they took all those droids out in a matter of minutes, it was incredible.”
You chuckled. “Yes, I’m well aware of the marvel that is Clone Force 99, and they do put on quite the show”, you said, shooting a quick glance Echo’s way. “Incredible indeed.”
Your words caused the trooper to smile shyly at you.
“Yes, well, we’re still glad you’re here, we just launched a counterattack, and the more assistance, the better”, Depa said.
You nodded. “You need us, we’ll stay”, you said before turning to your troops. “Men, a counterattack has been launched, I want you to rendezvous with Master Billaba’s troops and aid in the attack, Commander Roran, you’re with me. Let’s move!”
With that your troops dispersed, leaving you and your commander where you stood. You turned back to face everyone.
“So, how can we help”, you asked.
“Actually, I don’t think we’ll be needing your assistance after all, in fact, this war might soon be over”, Tech spoke up, causing you to give him a confused look.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, according to the encrypted comm chatter, Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi has found and engaged General Grievous on Utapau”, he responded.
“If he captures, or kills Grievous, the separatist command structure will collapse”, Echo chimed in.
“And most likely the droid armies along with them”, Tech finished.
“It can’t be that easy, can it”, you asked, looking to the jedi master.
“While it is an interesting theory, I would not bet our hopes on it, we should focus on the task at hand”, she replied.
“I agree, we should focus our energy on this attack, strike while we have the advantage”, you said.
Hunter nodded. “Any orders, or shall we do what we do”, he asked, directing his words at Depa.
“What do you think General, should we let them ‘do what they do’”, she asked you.
You chuckled and folded your arms over your chest. “Probably our best bet, what do you think Caleb”, you asked the padawan.
“I say we let them, but only if I can go with them”, he responded.
You looked to his master, raising an eyebrow in question.
“Very well”, she said, giving the boy permission.
“Ronan and I will tag along too”, you stated, then looking to Hunter. “Just in case you guys need a hand.”
“Hope that wasn’t a jab at me”, Echo said, coming to stand beside you while simultaneously lifting his cybernetic arm.
You immediately regretted your choice in words and stammered your defense.
“N- no, I didn’t mean, I would never.”
He let out an amused laugh. “I’m just messing with you General, sorry”, he said.
You then scowled at him before poking a finger at his chest plate.
“Not funny”, you said, but couldn’t keep the smile from forming on your face.
“I said I was sorry”, you heard him say as you began walking in the direction your troops had gone. He soon caught up and walked alongside you.
You chuckled. “Well, it’s nice to know you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”
“Nah, but I did lose a couple other things”, he said, face turning slightly serious.
You stopped walking and just stood for a moment, a sad expression now adorning your features. Noticing your actions, Echo ceased his movements as well and looked back to you.
“What is it”, he asked.
You went to stand in front of him before you spoke your next words. “Echo, I am sorry for your loss, truly I am, but honestly, I’d rather you be here and missing a few limbs, then for you to not be here at all. I’m just glad your alive, and that I get to see you again.”
He stared at you for a moment with an unreadable expression before smiling and nodding.
“I guess you’re right, and I’m glad our paths crossed again, I…”, he began, clearly wanting to say more, but stopping himself. You caught on though and decided to voice it for him.
“I missed you too”, you said, giving him a warm smile, prompting one of his own.
You both began walking once more to catch up with your comrades.
“You know, I was actually surprised you recognized me, what with the countless differences and all” he said with a chuckle.
You shook your head. “You can change all you want, I’ll still know it’s you”, you said.
“Yeah?”
“Yep, you might’ve changed a lot on the outside, but inside, you’re still the same Echo I’ve always known and loved”, you said, saying the words before they fully registered with your brain, but once they did you nearly froze in your stacks, your face instantly reddening with embarrassment. You quickly tried to back track before he could respond. “I mean, uh, well, y- you know what I mean.” Smooth.
He chuckled, amused at your obvious embarrassment of your less-than-ideal choice of words yet again.
“It’s okay, I know what you mean”, he said, giving you a reassuring smile before seemingly letting the subject drop, much to your relief.
You nodded as you carried on toward the others.
Suddenly, a wave of emotions flooded your mind, and it was as if hundreds of voices were crying out within the confines of your skull. You stopped, placing a hand to the side of your head in an attempt to stop the dizziness that accompanied the voices.
Echo noticed and came to your side, placing a steadying hand to your back.
“Are you okay”, he asked, clearly concerned.
“S- somethings wrong, I feel… death, so much death, I don’t know…”, you began through heavy breathes, but you were soon cut off by the sound of blaster fire.
You both looked to see Master Billaba’s men attempting to gun her down as she deflected their blasts with her lightsaber. Before you could fully process the sight in front of you, you heard Caleb yell for his master, seeing him rush past you, saber ignited and ready to jump to her aid.
“Caleb, no…”, you shouted, but before you could run after him a burning pain in your left arm stopped you.
You grabbed your now wounded arm and turned to see Roran facing you, blaster raised and aimed directly at you.
“Commander”, you said in confusion, but before you could get another word out, he was firing again. You were able to deflect the blasts with your saber, yelling at him as you did so. “Roran, why are you doing this?”
Suddenly, the blasts stopped as Echo came to your aid, wrestling the blaster out of the commander’s hands before knocking him out cold. He then rushed to your side once more, seeing you kneeling and clutching your head.
“General, (Y/N), (Y/N), can you hear me? Say something”, he urged, but try as you might, you couldn’t form the words to respond.
Your head was swimming in a sea of pain, death, and betrayal, most of which you were certain weren’t coming from you, more like from the force itself. You’d felt disturbances in the force before, but none like this, it was all encompassing and soon you found yourself slipping from consciousness from the intensity of it all.
***
When you finally came to, you found yourself laying in a bunk aboard the Havoc Marauder. When you tried to sit up a hand caught your shoulder and gently coaxed you back down.
“Easy (Y/N), you don’t want to push yourself, you sustained a pretty bad injury, you should rest”, a familiar voice said softly.
“Echo, what, what happened… they turned on us, why would they do that”, you asked, looking at him with confusion and sadness mixing in your expression.
“I don’t know, we’re still trying to figure that out ourselves, but you’re safe now, I won’t let them hurt you again, you have my word. Now rest”, he said, trying to comfort you, but knowing it wouldn’t help much given what you’d just been through.
“No”, you heard someone say, the volume of it startling you slightly, and you looked to see that it was Hunter, who had just entered.
“What do you mean ‘no’”, Echo asked him, confused.
“I mean, she can’t stay here, it’s not safe”, he explained, and when you both gave him a befuddled look, he continued, “It’s Crosshair, there’s… something wrong with him. I think whatever happened to those soldiers is happening to him too, but I can’t be sure.”
“What makes you think that”, you questioned, finally sitting up and turning to place your feet on the floor.
He looked behind him, making sure you three were the only ones in ear shot before bending down to your level.
“He tried to kill that padawan”, he said, so low it was almost a whisper.
“Caleb, is he alright”, you asked, fear and concern thick in your voice.
“He’s alive, but other than that, I’m not sure. He ran off after…”, he began, but the words died on his lips.
You nodded in understanding. “So, what should I do, where should I go?”
“Stay here, on Kaller, find somewhere to hide. We’ll go back to Kamino and sort this out, once it’s safe, we’ll come back for you”, he said.
You nodded, agreeing to do as he said, knowing you really had no other option at this point.
Shortly after this conversation you readied yourself to leave, Tech giving you some medical supplies in case you would need to re-bandage your arm before they returned.
Echo ended up accompanying you in your search for shelter, telling the others he wasn’t going anywhere until he knew you’d found somewhere safe to stay. You had resisted the gesture, wanting him to get as far away from danger as possible, but he insisted.
You found a cave a few miles from the ship’s current location and decided it was as good a place as any to crash for, what you were hoping would only be, a few days.
“You sure you’re going to be okay here”, Echo asked, looking into the cold, dark cave.
“I’ll be fine, I’ve stayed in worse places. Besides, it’s the safest place we’ll find in the wilderness, and it’s dark, perfect for hiding”, you said in a poor attempt to lighten the mood, you didn’t know why, force of habit you guessed. Although, all this earned you was a sad smile from the trooper.
“We’ll be back soon, just stay out of sight until then, okay?”
You gave a small smile, bringing your hand up to your forehead for a two fingered salute. “Yes sir”, you said. This actually earned you a small laugh, which at this moment was music to your ears. You lowered your hand and looked into his eyes, taking on a more serious expression. “Just… be safe.”
“I should be telling you that”, he said.
“Yeah, well, I beat you to it”, you said, half grinning.
“I will if you will.”
You nodded. “Then I will.”
Suddenly your body was moving without you telling it to, and you found yourself wrapping him in a tight hug, closing your eyes to keep from crying, and soon the gesture was returned, leaving the both of you in a long embrace.
“Don’t forget me, okay”, you said, the threat of tears evident in your voice.
He squeezed you a little tighter. “Never.”
***
Turns out, you didn’t have to hide out in that cave long at all, as they had returned to retrieve you within two days’ time, with a new crew member, but without Crosshair. You two hadn’t been the best of friends by any means, and the man’s standoffishness really irked you sometimes, but you’d always known that deep down, he wasn’t such a bad guy. So, when the boys had told you what had happened between their return to Kamino and their escape from the planet, it put a surprising strain on your heart. You wanted to be angry with Crosshair for his actions, for attempting to kill Caleb and other innocents, but you just couldn’t, especially after you were informed of the inhibitor chips planted within every clone trooper. You couldn’t be mad at him, you couldn’t hate him, because it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t any of their faults, they were being used just like the jedi had been, if not more so, and this knowledge extinguished any hatred that had grown in you since the day that order was given.
Thinking back on all of this had you shedding silent tears as you watched the streaks of light pass before your eyes, attempting to let yourself to be swept away in the beauty that was hyperspace. This always seemed to calm your mind, but it didn’t seem to be working this time, so you simply stared and let the tears run down your cheeks.
“Hey, you okay”, Hunter asked from the seat beside you, having temporarily taken over piloting the ship in order to allow the others to rest.
You were snapped out of your thoughts by his words and quickly wiped the tears from your face before answering.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, still just trying to figure all of this out”, you replied somberly.
He nodded. “I understand, we still don’t have it all figured out either and with every answer comes new questions”, he said.
You hummed in agreement. “I guess my biggest question is, why now, why did Palpatine wait so long to put this grand plan in action? I mean, he could’ve done it years ago, but no, he waited… waited for us to get close to those who would eventually become our executioners, and worse, he took away their free will to do it. Those troopers, they weren’t the men they used to be, it’s like they were brainwashed.”
“Tech said they were programmed and when the chips were activated, it basically took over their minds, so I guess, in a way, they are brainwashed”, Hunter said, looking back out at the blue glow of hyperspace.
“Those poor men”, you said after a moment of silence.
Hunter turned his head to look at you, an astonished expression over his features, he then let out an amused huff.
“You are truly a wonder, you know that?”
“What”, you asked him, confused by the comment.
“Even after everything you’ve been through, and after what they did to you and your kin, you still feel pity for them”, he explained. “You’ve always been able to see people for who they really are, and forgive them for their faults, it’s commendable, and it’s something I’ve always admired about you.”
“You admire me”, you asked, raising an eyebrow and grinning in amusement.
He gave you a single nod. “Always have”, he said, giving you a soft smile.
The way he was looking at you made your cheeks begin to heat as a light blush covered them, and you turned away in an attempt to hide it, but he noticed, and his smile widened a bit as he looked back out the view port.
“I think you’re right by the way, about Palpatine waiting so long to execute his plan. I think he wanted you all to build those relationships, that trust, with your men, so that, when the time came, he could not only take you all out, but destroy your conviction as well”, he said, his voice lower than before.
“That’s a bit ominous, given our current situation”, you said, only half joking.
He turned to you suddenly, eyebrows raised in mild shock.
“(Y/N), you don’t think we’d… we’d never hurt you, I’d never hurt you, we’re on your side, I promise”, he said, hurt in his eyes. Did you really not trust him?
Seeing his reaction made your heart squeeze, you hadn’t meant to hurt him, you were just confused and scared. You felt as if your whole world had come crumbling down around you, and you were still trying to resurface from the rubble. But you knew you were wrong for thinking, even for a second, that you couldn’t trust Hunter and his men.
“I know, I’m sorry. I do trust you, all of you”, you said, trying to sound reassuring, but it only came out as sadness.
It looked as if the sergeant was contemplating something, his hands reflexively grabbing at nothing as they opened and closed on his lap. You knew he wanted to do something, wanted to comfort you, but he also didn’t want to invade your space, worried that would be crossing a line. So, you took the initiative.
You reached over and took one of his hands from his lap, holding it softly before giving it a reassuring squeeze and sending a smile his way. This prompted him to smile back, and you both just sat like that for a minute.
Suddenly, you heard a commotion from the bunks, and your name being called out by a desperate voice.
Recognizing the voice, you jumped up from your seat. “Echo”, you said, concern in your tone, before looking back to Hunter.
He simply nodded. “Go”, he said softly.
You gave a confirming nod and let go of the hand you’d still been holding, before quickly making your way to the bunks.
When you entered the room, it took you a second to assess the situation before you. Echo was laying in his bunk, breathing heavy, head shaking from side to side, and body trembling, as if he were in a state of terror. All this while Omega stood by the bunk, watching with concern. She looked back to you when you entered, then ran to you.
“I tried to wake him, but it’s not working, he keeps calling for you, you’ve got to do something”, she said in a rush, voice and eyes full or worry for her new friend.
You bent down to her level and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, I know what to do, you go wait with Hunter, okay? Everything will be fine”, you told her, attempting to quell her worry.
You then stood and made your way to Echo, sitting on the edge of the bunk and looking over him with your own worried expression. You really didn’t know what to do, you’d never been faced with something like this before. He was clearly having a terrible nightmare, and you wanted to help, so you just acted on instinct.
You placed a hand on his shoulder and shook lightly, softly calling his name, trying to wake him as gradually as you could, as you figured startling him awake would be counterproductive. However, this didn’t seem to work, and hearing your voice only caused him to say your name more. Seeing him like this broke your heart, and for a moment you felt totally helpless, but then you had an idea. You moved your hand from his shoulder, bringing it to cup the side of his face, your thumb instinctually beginning to rub soothing circles on his cheek, and you bent down to speak quietly in his ear.
“Echo, it’s (Y/N). You don’t have to be scared, I’m here, I won’t let them hurt you anymore”, you said, gently grabbing his flesh hand with your free one and holding it to your chest. “I’m here for you, I’ll always be right here with you, it’s okay. Wake up Love. Come back to me.”
As you spoke you could see him slowly calm, and with your final request, his eyes fluttered open, finding yours instantly.
“There you are”, you said softly, a smile spreading over your face. You were just relieved that the nightmare was over, and he seemed to be calming more with each passing second.
As he took in your presence before him, he let out a relieved sigh, but then looked to you with a strained expression.
“(Y/N), I… I was back, back with them, back to that day, I… I didn’t know how or why, and I just…”, he said in a desperate rush.
You shushed him, and let your hand continue to stay where it was in an attempt to sooth the frightened man lying next to you.
“I know, it’s okay, you’re okay now, you’re here with me, you’re safe, I promise”, you reassured him.
This seemed to work, and he let out another sigh as he closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing once again, coming back to a steady pattern in no time. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed the position you both were in; you were sitting very close beside him, one hand resting on his cheek, while the other held his hand close to your heart, with his clutching yours in return, like you were his lifeline, which he had to admit, wasn’t far from the truth. You were the one he could trust without question, the one he could confide in, always had been.
You noticed this too and immediately went to pull away, slowly dropping his hand as you did, cheeks now burning. You didn’t get very far though, before he grabbed your wrist with his newly freed hand. “No”, he said, and pulled the hand back towards his head, coaxing you to return it to its previous spot. “Don’t stop… please.”
You stared at him for a moment with an unreadable expression, before finally giving him a tentative nod and continuing your earlier action of rubbing your thumb in circles on his cheek. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow, relaxing easily under your touch, this causing you to smile, glad you could be of comfort to him. You stayed like this for a while before your curiosity got the best of you and you voiced the question that had been on your mind since you first heard him call your name.
“Echo”, you said in a questioning tone. He hummed in response, not opening his eyes. “Why, why me?”
He looked at you then, confused. “What do you mean?”
“When you were having your nightmare, you, you called out for me, I was just wondering, why me”, you explained.
“I did”, he asked.
“Yeah, quite a few times actually. Was I in your dream or something?”
He looked away, a bit embarrassed.
“Not exactly”, he said.
You used the hand that was still on him to lightly pull his head to face you, speaking once his eyes were fixed on yours once again.
“Echo, you know you can tell me anything. What is it”, you asked.
“You weren’t in the dream, technically, and it wasn’t really a dream, more like I was reliving a memory, the memory of the citadel, and…”, he explained, his words dying off as he found it hard to voice them.
You placed a reassuring hand on his chest and gave him a nod in understanding.
“So, you were reliving that day, I’m sorry, I know that can’t be easy. But I still don’t see what that has to do with me, I wasn’t there, if I had been, I would’ve taken that blow for you”, you said, suddenly feeling tears behind your eyes, but you fought them back internally.
His eyes widened and he quickly grabbed your hand from its spot on his chest, squeezing it firmly.
“No, don’t say that”, he said urgently, suddenly sitting up, causing your hand to slip from his face, instead falling to rest at the intersection of his shoulder and neck.
“But…”, you tried to say, but he cut you off.
“No (Y/N), I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, least of all on you”, he said, staring directly into your eyes. You could only nod sadly as you tried to keep your emotions in check, which was getting harder as this interaction continued. He then softened his gaze and let out a long breath. “You were there, in a way.”
You gave him a confused look, about to ask what he meant, until he continued.
“After the explosion, I just laid there for a long time, feeling everything and nothing all at the same time, I was basically just waiting to die”, he told you. Your heart squeezed at his words, as the tears threatened to rise. “But then, I heard someone’s voice calling out to me, your voice. You were telling me not to give up, not to leave you, to keep fighting, and so I did. I bared the pain and rejected the urge to just slip away, even after they took me, I fought through all of it, because I knew that if I survived, then there was a chance I’d make it back to you, and… I really wanted that.”
That’s all it took, his words hit you straight in the chest and flowed through you, causing the flood gates to release and the tears to fall. Echo looked worried then and released your hand, bringing his to cup your cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad”, he said, internally wishing he hadn’t said anything.
You shook your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for, and I’m not sad that you told me, I’m glad you did”, you said, wiping the tears from the other side of your face. “Honestly, I’m just happy your alive, and that you did find your way back to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. When I heard what happened on Lola Sayu I couldn’t believe it at first, it didn’t feel real, but once I accepted it was… I had never felt true grief until that moment, and the sense of longing was almost unbearable. All I kept thinking was how I was angry with myself for wasting the time I had with you, lying. Lying to you, and to myself.”
“What are you talking about, lying about what”, he asked, sliding his hand down to hook a finger around your chin and turn your face back to face him after you’d turned it away during your confession.
You took a deep breath before speaking next. “I lied to you before, when I acted like that slip up was just a poor choice of words, I meant exactly what I said. See, the truth is, I was upset with myself because I never told you…”, you paused, finding this confession to be much harder than you had thought it would be to get out, “never told you that I…”
After another long pause, Echo decided to take the initiative, seeing as he knew exactly what you wanted to say, as it was the same thing he’d wanted to say to you all that time ago, still did. He used the hand that had a hold of your chin to pull you to him as he caught your lips in a kiss, one that while soft, was full of so much emotion it was almost palpable. You were surprised at first, but soon melted into the kiss, feeling completely content with staying there as long as possible.
Much too soon for your liking, Echo pulled away, but only to place his forehead against yours and let the long overdue words slip from his lips. “I love you too.”
Your smile reached your ears as his words filled you with untainted happiness, which prompted him to smile widely himself. Why had you both waited so long to do this, you didn’t know, but you were glad it was finally happening.
“Why did we spend all that time hiding, when we could’ve just done this”, you asked.
He chuckled. “Because we were both cowardly idiots”, he said.
You hummed in agreement. “I still can’t believe you did all that for me”, you said in a more serious tone.
He pulled back to look into your eyes. “Of course I did… I’d do anything for you (Y/N)”, he told you.
“Anything?”
He nodded in response and you smiled again.
“Kiss me again”, you said, it was more of a request than a demand.
He smiled and pulled you close so your face was mere inches from his.
“Yes Ma’am.”
***
It had been a good fifteen minutes since the cries had stopped and no noise could be heard from Echo’s bunk. Omega was no longer worried, knowing you had it handled, but her curiosity was starting to get the best of her.
“What do you think their talking about in there, it’s so quiet, maybe I should…”, she said as she got up from the co-pilot seat, moving in the direction of the bunks, but she was stopped by a hand grabbing her forearm, causing her to turn and stare at Hunter questioningly.
“Don’t, they’re fine, and it’s none of our business what their talking about, so just let them be, alright”, he said, giving her a warning look, one that wasn’t all that intimidating to the young girl, but she listened nonetheless and returned to her seat.
After a moment she spoke again, not being able to take the silence any longer.
“So, what’s the deal with those two, are they together, or is it some secret that everyone knows about except them”, she asked the sergeant.
Hunter laughed, this kid really was perceptive, not that anyone with eyes couldn’t see the attraction between you and Echo, it had always seemed so obvious to him, which is why he never spoke on his own feelings for you.
“Yeah, there seem to be… unspoken feelings between the two of them, but I’m sure they’ll get their acts together soon enough, especially now that they’ll be around each other more often”, he told her.
She thought on this for a moment before responding.
“I think so too… and what about you”, Omega asked him.
“What about me?”
“Are you going to get your act together as well”, she asked, raising her eyebrow and grinning at him.
“What are you talkin’ about kid”, Hunter asked, wondering if she’d somehow figured it out.
“Seriously, I’ve only just got here and I can see it”, she said.
“See what?”
“That Echo isn’t the only one who has feelings for the general.”
Hunter turned to the young clone, a look of surprise on his face. Very perceptive indeed.
“Why don’t you just tell her, at least one of you should pluck up the courage to do it”, she said.
He exhaled heavily as his features returned to a more neutral expression.
“It’s not that simple kid, there are just some things you’re not old enough to understand. Besides, it’s not reciprocated so there’s really no point, she’s made her choice, and I have to respect that”, he explained, hoping that would be that. However, he wasn’t going to be that lucky.
“Your wrong”, Omega said simply.
“What?”
“Your wrong, those feelings, they are reciprocated, yeah she likes Echo, but she likes you too.” She said it with such confidence that it made him wonder if the statement was true.
“Really, and how do you know that”, he asked, an almost sarcastic tone in his voice.
She shrugged. “Female intuition.”
He raised a suspicious brow at her but decided not to think too much on it.
“Hm, well, even if you are right, she’s still made her choice, and I won’t get in the way.”
“Won’t get in the way of what?”
Your voice made both of them jump a little. You had just made your way back to the cockpit and had clearly overheard the last bit of their conversation.
“Nothing”, Hunter said, watching you come to stand beside Omega, perching your arm on the headrest of the co-pilot chair and leaning on it.
“Really? Didn’t sound like nothing”, you said, raising your eyebrow in suspicion.
Omega suddenly perked up and turned in her chair to look up at you.
“Hey (Y/N), do you think it’s possibly for someone to love more than one person at a time”, she asked.
You were a bit taken aback by the question, but figured you’d answer, seeing as how you were being very honest today.
“Yes, I do, it actually happens a lot more often than you think”, you responded, purposefully avoiding Hunter’s gaze as you looked at the child.
“And what does that person do, you know, when they realize they have feelings for more than one person”, she then asked.
“Well, usually that person then has a decision to make, and they just hope they don’t break any hearts in the process. You see, love can be a tricky endeavor. However, I think if someone does fall for two individuals at once, then there are other options”, you said, rather matter-of-factly, given the topic at hand.
“Like what?”
“Those involved could always enter into a relationship all together, I suppose”, you said, wondering just how far she was going to take this conversation.
“And that would work”, she asked, seeming almost hopeful.
“It’s possible, yes, but only if all members involved are okay with it. They all need to know that’s what’s going on, and there can’t be any secrets”, you explained.
“Huh, I guess that makes sense”, Omega said, seeming content with your explanation. Then another thought seemed to hit her. “Hey (Y/N)?”
You hummed in response.
“Have you ever been in love”, she asked curiously.
“Omega”, Hunter said firmly, giving her another look of warning.
“No, no, it’s fine”, you informed him, not wanting him to reprimand the girl for just being curious. “To answer your question Omega, yes, yes I have.”
“With more than one person”, she continued.
You raised an eyebrow at her and crossed your arms over your chest.
“What’s with the twenty questions, am I being interrogated or something”, you asked, only half joking.
She shook her head. “No, just curious is all.”
“Uh huh, well why don’t you stow that curiosity away for later and go get some rest, it’s quiet now”, you told her.
“What did you do, I mean, how did you get him to stop”, she asked as she stood from her seat.
“I just let him know that he was safe, and that there was nothing to be afraid of”, you said, which wasn’t a complete lie.
“That’s it”, she asked.
You nodded. “That’s it.”
She gave you a look of suspicion but didn’t act on it.
“Okay”, she said, drawing out the word, and made her way to exit the cockpit.
“Sleep tight”, you called after her as she disappeared down the small corridor. You then turned back to the view port and took a seat in the now empty chair, sighing heavily before finally looking to Hunter. “Well, that was interesting, care to tell me what that was all about?”
“Not really”, he said, turning back to face forward.
You raised a brow. “Seriously?”
He shrugged and kept his gaze where it was.
You sighed again and leaned back in your chair. “Alright then, but I think it’s worth mentioning that the kid knows what she’s talking about, you might want to listen to her every now and then, she’s quite intuitive.”
He looked to you then, confusion on his brow.
“What do you mean”, he asked.
You laughed. “I mean, what she said about me is true”, you said.
His eyes widened a bit. “You, you heard that”, he asked, and you nodded in response. “How much of it?”
“Enough”, you said simply.
He looked away again as he spoke. “Then you know it doesn’t matter how I feel, you’ve made your choice, and I’m okay with that, I’ll have to be”, he said, trying to keep up this act of indifference.
You turned in your seat to face him. “You keep saying that, but, what if I don’t want to choose, because how you feel does matter, Hunter. At least, to me it does.”
He turned his head to meet your gaze. “What exactly are you proposing”, he asked.
“Nothing yet, just letting you know that, I know, and that the feelings are mutual.”
He smiled at this and nodded his understanding.
“What about Echo, have you told him yet”, he asked.
“We talked, and confessions were made… finally”, you said with a smile.
You both laughed then, happy to finally air things out a bit, all the pent-up emotions were wearing on all of you it seemed, and it felt nice to not have to hide it anymore.
“How do you think he’ll feel about your non-proposed proposal”, he asked with a grin.
“I don’t know, but we’re all adults, we can sit down and have a civilized conversation about this, and… we’ll figure this all out”, you told him.
He gave an amused huff. “You make it sound so formal.”
You nodded and gave a light chuckle. “At first, yeah, but I get the feeling that once this proposal is made, all persons involved will be… willing to give it a try”, you said, taking his hand and holding it in both of yours. “Then things will get more… informal.”
He smiled. “Yeah, how can you be so sure”, he asked, leaning toward you.
You smiled back and leaned in as well, your faces now only inches apart.
“Female intuition”, you whispered, your smile turning a bit smug.
He chuckled in amusement. “You’re ridiculous”, he said, before closing the gap between you.
The kiss was sweet and felt just as right as the ones you’d had with Echo, and just like those ones, this kiss ended all to quickly, but you were content to sit back and bask in the afterglow, you didn’t want to rush things after all.
You both sat there a moment, leaning back in your seats, staring out the view port, arms stretched as your hands sat, intertwined, between you. Maybe this really could work, only time would tell.
After what felt like hours, but in reality, had only been minutes, Hunter looked to you with a soft smile.
“I’m glad you’re here with us”, he said.
You smiled back and gave his hand a light squeeze.
“Me too”, you said, and you both stayed like that for a long while, enjoying a view you each thought was much better than the one outside the view port.
Little did you know, behind you Omega stood at the entrance of the cockpit, looking on silently and grinning from ear to ear, feeling quite pleased with herself.
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hufflepuffhollander · 4 years
Text
off limits: tom holland one-shot
a/n | this is my submission for @chloecreatesfictions’ 1k writing challenge! i’ve never done the “brother’s best friend” trope and i def got a little too excited and carried away! real talk, this might be the cutest thing i’ve ever written
summary | as harrison osterfield’s younger sister, you’d always just seen his best friend tom as an annoying older brother. until, one day, you didn’t.
cw | tom x osterfield!reader. contains language, alcohol, recreational use of weeeed, teenage angst, sexual tension, fluff n’ stuff. 5k words.
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For as long as you could remember, Tom Holland had been a stitch in your side that you could never get rid of.
Growing up as your older brother’s best friend, he was always at your house when you were children— and his favorite pastime when Harrison was boring him was to break into your room and mess with you, stealing your toys or running his hands across the piano keys when you were trying to practice in peace. No matter how many locks you put on your door just to keep Tom out, he was always able to pick them.
As you all got older, he grew to annoy you in a different way, blasting loud, grungy music through Harrison’s bedroom walls late at night or eating things out of the fridge that clearly had your name on them. Once he’d started to garner some attention as an actor, his ego skyrocketed, and somehow he became an even bigger nuisance. He dragged Harrison away from you and took him all over the world while you had to sit idly by and love your brother from a distance.
When Tom would come over now, he would talk of nothing but hollywood parties and getting drunk with the biggest a-listers when he knew you were listening. He would ignore you when he breezed past you in the hallway, and even had the audacity to go into your bedroom when you were out and smoke a blunt on your bed so your whole room smelled like a music festival when you got home; and worst of all, it was your weed.
It was sufficient to say you were Tom Holland’s least enthusiastic fan. And it was rather unfortunate, because you were a big stan of the MCU—and secretly loved getting high and watching and re-watching the spider-man movies the most. Okay, don’t make that face. They have a good storyline.
It was a regular Friday night, you were aimlessly scrolling through your phone while Harrison and Tom were getting ready to go pub hopping. Harrison always invited you, but you never took him up on his offer because you knew how flirty you got with alcohol in your system and wouldn’t dare feel that way around Tom. He was notorious for taking anything nice you said about him and rubbing it in your face for at least a week after. 
“You know you secretly love me, babe.”
You hated when he called you babe, and he knew it. But since you’d both grown up, time had done you both a favor, and there was always an air of something you couldn’t quite place your finger on whenever you interacted...the pet name just made it more interesting.
“Hey, y/n, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us?” Harrison yelled from outside your bedroom door, and you peeked your head out to respond.
“Nah, it’s fine, Haz, go have fun. I have enough uni work to keep me busy.”
“It’s a Friday night, nerd.”
You stuck your tongue out at him and smiled. “Sorry I’m not a budding alcoholic like you, big bro.”
He laughed, blew you a kiss, and he and Tom were off.
Only about an hour later, you decided to take a break from studying and light up a joint, turning on your go-to movie for background noise- but were snapped out of your vibey trance when you heard the front door swing open, and your brother’s loud, drunk voice.
“W-why are we h-home, you div,” he slurred, as his heavy footsteps start to climb the stairs. After a long moment, you heard him collapse on his bed through your thin walls, still stammering out his words. “Thomas, I promise you, I am fineeee...”
“Mate, you’re sloshed. Go to bed.”
You decided to leave them be. This was a typical occurrence- one of the boys went too hard too early, and the other had to babysit until they made it home to pass out cold, usually on the bed, or the couch, or on a good day, the floor.
A few minutes passed while you hotboxed your room, feeling amazingly relaxed, until you saw your doorknob wriggling out of the corner of your eye. Your door was locked, so you ignored it. But the knob kept twisting and falling back in place, making the whole frame shake. After a long while of witnessing a ghost try to make its way into your room, you watched your lock turn slowly and click out of place, the door creaking opened to reveal Tom, swatting at the air when a cloud of smoke greeted him.
You snapped your laptop closed before he could hear his own voice flowing out of your speakers. “Tom, for the last time, stop picking my fucking lock!” You beamed your nearest pillow at him—which he caught before it struck him—and he threw it back, hitting you square in the face. Of course.
He flashed a cocky smile. “Why? It’s so easy.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious! I could’ve been naked or something!”
He just stood in the doorframe, giving you a once-over in your thin cotton t-shirt and yoga pants, and kept that smug expression locked on his face. 
“Ew, Tom, you’re disgusting. Get out.”
He decidedly did not get out, instead closing the door behind him and hopping up next to you on your bed, the divot in your mattress leaving your bodies pressed much too close together. You were met with a strong whiff of his cologne and the gin he must’ve been drinking earlier. “I’ll take that,” he muttered as he lifted your joint out of your fingers and took a puff, sucking his breath in as his lungs filled. 
Your stomach filled with a dull fire and you narrowed your eyes. “Do you mind?”
He turned to face you and blew a big puff of smoke directly into your face, the notorious smirk making its reappearance. “Not at all, thanks for asking though.”
You groaned aloud. “What are you doing in here?” he took another draw and handed you back what was rightfully yours, smoke dissipating from his mouth as he spoke.
“Haz is pissed and I’m bored.”
You relit the bud and inhaled for a long while, figuring you’d need to be pretty intoxicated to not smack him in the face if he tried to talk again. “Well, go be bored somewhere else. I was busy.”
He cocked an eyebrow at you and reached across your lap for your computer. “Doing what?” 
Oh shit. “Dude, can you not-?!” you yelped, but he had swiped it too quickly out of your grasp, and opened it up to find himself paused on your screen. You laid back on your bed so he couldn’t see your cheeks now flushed with embarrassment and grabbed your lighter from your nightstand. It was going to be a long evening.
He leaned himself over to catch your eye and had the stupidest, most prideful look plastered across his face. “Gotcha.”
You punched him in the arm as he erupted into laughter—but the anger inside you had been dulled by the weed and replaced with a childlike silliness—and you started to giggle, too. You looked up into his eyes, pupils now wildly dilated and tinted red around the edges.
“Shut up, Tom, you’re high,” you said in between chuckles.
“Yeah? Well so are you!”
You poked fun at each other for a while, suddenly in a mutually fantastic mood. You knew in the back of your mind that none of this would be happening if you hadn’t gotten stoned together, but you enjoyed the warm company anyway. 
“Well, you gotta finish it, don’t you?” he said, settling back down and fixating the computer on his lap so you could both see it.
“You really want to watch your own movie?”
“Doll, it’s my favorite thing to do.” he smiled at you.
“God, you’re the worst.” you felt some butterflies make an entrance in your chest that had never been there before.
He pressed play and cozied up on your bed, lying back against the wall with his arm lazily draped behind you. You pulled a blanket up onto your lap and had really no choice but to lean on him for support, neither of you admitting out loud that you were full on cuddling and not angry about it.
“Hey, aren’t you gonna share?” he whined, pulling at the corner of your blanket.
“Get your own,” you responded, internally high-fiving yourself for finally getting the chance to sass him back. Sure, you had your head comfortably resting on his shoulder, but that didn’t mean you were suddenly friends.
You let the movie play, the two of you blowing through the joint until it was a dwindling nub. The scene where Peter has his big kiss with MJ started, and you stifled a snigger as their lips met on the screen.
Tom had clear offense laced through his words. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” you shrugged.
He sat up to look at you, eyebrows knit together in an angry pout. “Tell me.”
“I just...feel bad for Zendaya, that’s all.” you covered your mouth to keep from laughing, and his eyes rolled so far back into his head you were sure they’d be stuck that way forever.
“You’re such a brat,” he started, his ego finding its old place back in his voice. “I’m an amazing kisser. She told me herself.”
You looked away from him, taking a heavy exhale. “Yeah, whatever, dude.”
He sat even more upright and paused the movie, taking hold of your shoulder to make you turn to him. “What, you don’t believe me?”
You realized then how physically close you had gotten, as you could feel the syllables of his words in his breath hitting your face. He was doing that thing boys do, when they’re thinking about kissing you but don’t- their stares going back and forth between your lips and your eyes in a not so subtle way. It freaked you out to see him that close and personal, and you whispered back exactly what you knew would irk him the most.
“Nope.”
He moved his face impossibly closer to yours, and you felt his soft lips lightly brush over your own. You weren’t sure if this was real, or just a high hallucination, but you didn’t move away. This was entirely uncharted territory.
“Tooommmm!” you heard Harrison yell out from the other side of the wall. “Where are yooouuu?! I’m so thirsty!” Tom immediately jerked his head away from you and shook himself out of the moment. You brought your hand up to your cheek and shuddered at how hot it had become- your own body was betraying you.
“God, he’s gonna be the death of me,” Tom said, shoving himself off the bed and walking out of your room, glancing back at you for a moment and then closing the door behind him. Just like that, he was gone, and you were left trapped in your own psyche wondering what the hell had just happened.
Over the course of the next week, things has become exponentially weirder between you and Tom. He seemed to be spending much more time at your house than he normally did, even sleeping a few nights there instead of driving the five minutes back to be in his own bed. One unsuspecting morning, you knocked on your bathroom door, annoyed that it had been shut for such a long time. 
“Haz, if you use up all the hot water again, I’m gonna kill you,” you said in between knocks. You were taken by surprise when it swung open, steam billowing out into the cool air.
“Whoops,” you heard a voice say, immediately realizing it wasn’t your brother. You took a step backward to see Tom emerge, wearing nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp and clinging to his forehead, and he looked like some glowing magazine model. 
“Uh, sorry,” you stammered, accidentally inhaling the yummy smell of his soap and shampoo emanating off of his skin.
He noticed you eyeing him and a sly grin appeared as he rolled his bottom lip under his teeth. “Shower’s all yours, babe,” he said, bumping your shoulder with his own as he walked away. You were stuck in place and didn’t see him glancing back at you as he wandered down the hallway. 
Another day after that, Tom and Harrison were looking for a certain record to play, but it was nowhere to be found. “It might be in y/n’s room,” Harrison said, sitting back in his lounge chair. “Wanna go grab it?”
Tom coughed. “Why do I have to get it?”
“Because I’m comfortable.”
Tom felt a mix of annoyance and nerves in his chest as he walked the short distance down the hallway to your room where the door was already cracked open. He invited himself in—excitement faltering a little when he saw you weren’t in your usual spot on your bed—and started to sift through your bookshelves.
You had been in the bathroom getting dressed after your shower, but realized you left your shirt in your closet- and seeing that Harrison’s bedroom door was still shut, you figured it was safe to run across the landing into your room without anyone seeing you. In just a bra and spandex shorts that left little to the imagination, you swiftly made your way across the hall and walked through your door that was still open a crack to see Tom kneeled down as he shuffled through your record collection.
He heard your small gasp when you entered to find him, and swiveled around to you standing only a few feet away from him in the least amount of clothing he’d ever seen on you. He abruptly stood up but didn’t move, eyes sparkling as they rolled down your body.
“What the fuck! Why are you always in my room?!” You were too shocked to think about finding something to cover yourself with, and put your hands over your face, trying not to die of embarrassment. Tom remained glued to his place on your carpet, clearly at a loss for words.
“Tom, can you leave please-”
“Right, yeah, okay, uh, bye-” he hurried out of your room, swinging the door almost shut but leaving just a crack so he could speak into it.
“...I like your shorts.”
“TOM!”
He chuckled and closed the door, and you slumped against the wall, still holding your head in your hands. What was this sudden hold he had over you? And why did you love the way that he was staring at you?
That night, you had a big paper to complete, and you were perched in your bed typing away as it got dark. In between two songs on your playlist, you heard the familiar jiggle of a doorknob. Looking up over your screen, you watched as the metal turned in its socket, and heard a soft “crushed it” as the lock undid itself. Your door opened steadily and slowly, a familiar face peeking in at you.
“Hi.”
“Oh sweet jesus,” you mumbled.
“You busy?”
“Clearly.”
“Cool.” Tom let himself into your room, shutting the door behind him and sauntering over to your bed, sitting down next to you, bouncing like a little kid and singing his words. “Whatcha doooin’?”
“Homework,” you said, continuing to type and trying your best to ignore the way the sound of his voice was waking up something electric inside of you. He leaned into your body to peer at your computer screen, pretending to be interested in whatever you were writing about. His elbow got in the way of your hands, and you had to stop typing.
“Thomas, is there something I can help you with?”
“Haz is asleep,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder like it hadn’t been a week since your almost-kiss and you hadn’t been actively avoiding bringing it up.
You felt jittery. “And?”
He gently pushed your hands away from the keyboard and closed your laptop shut, giving you a sheepish smile. “Wanna get high?”
Honestly, you did.
You turned on your lamp and turned off the overhead light, put on that record he finally found, lighting a candle and then another hand-rolled blunt. This time, Tom sat upright with you perpendicular to him, your legs swung over his lap. When he made a joke, he’d give your leg a little squeeze- and whether it was purposeful or not, you were filled with schoolgirl nerves every time it happened.
All the angsty barriers built up over years of a sibling-like rivalry had come down between the two of you as you smoked together; you suddenly found all of his bad jokes funny, and he couldn’t peel his eyes away from the cute way you scrunched your nose when you laughed. Every time you exchanged the blunt, you couldn’t help but think about how his lips had just been on it a moment before yours. The night came and went, and you ended up falling asleep wrapped in his arms as he dozed off with his chin pressed to your forehead.
You both woke up at the same time in the dead of night, unsure of how late it had gotten. Still nestled into each other, you exchanged sleepy glances and no words, taking a moment to realize the position you had put yourselves in. 
Tom grazed your jawline with the back of his hand and lifted up your chin with his thumb. You let your eyes flutter shut and he kissed you in the dark for one long, everlasting moment. He pulled back from you hesitantly, leaving you breathless. Did that really just happen?
“We...we can’t,” he whispered, his words tinged with sadness.
Your heart broke for him just hearing his voice. “Why not?”
“You’re my best friend’s little sister, y/n.”
“And you’re my brother’s best friend. So what?” you were almost upset with yourself for being so vulnerable; so visibly pining after him.
“So, you’re off limits,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. 
“Says who?” 
That prompted Tom to meet your gaze again, and this time you took initiative, moving your face to his and taking his bottom lip in between yours. He took a sharp inhale as you kissed him and seemed to let all inhibition go as he put his arms around your back and pressed you into him hard, all of his pent up feelings for you suddenly flowing out of him. He kissed you in a needy, desperate kind of way, and you loved every second of it. You ran your fingers through his hair, traced his jawline, using your hands to feel every bit of him that you couldn’t before. The strangest part of it all was how natural it felt- like you had been practicing for this very moment all your lives. 
Your record had stopped spinning a while ago, the room now filled with just the breathy noises of your kisses, your contented hums and his tiny mews when you bit his lips. You were both still barely lucid, and after countless minutes of nothing but innocent kisses, you were on the brink of falling asleep again, serotonin whisking you away into dreams. Tom sighed into you, and clasped his hand around yours.
“I have to go.”
“What? Why?” you felt your heart preeminently sink in your chest; like you should’ve known this was too good to last.
“I don’t want him to wake up and find us here,” he trailed off, staring down at your intertwined fingers fiddling together.
“So that’s it?” you tried to swallow back the sudden upwell of feelings inside you.
“No, no...” his eyes filled with some type of emotional strain you’d never seen. “I- I don’t want this to be it. But I don’t want things to get...messy.”
Unfortunately, you couldn’t blame him, because you understood.
“Can you come back tomorrow night?” you whispered, very not ready to let his spot next to you grow cold.
“I don’t know...”
You looked up at him doe-eyed, cooing. “Please?”
He nodded, looking away from you before he completely caved and stayed there forever. “I’ll come back.”
He pressed one last kiss onto your lips and slowly got up, reluctantly letting go of your hand as he left your room. “Goodnight, babe.”
Hearing him call you babe, finally free of demeaning sarcasm, made your heart soar. 
“Goodnight, Tom.”
The door shut and you were left alone, the stillness of your room sticking out in sharp contrast with how quickly your heart was racing.
For the next few nights, Tom spent the evenings at your house with Harrison, waiting until he fell asleep to make his way next door to you. You’d smoke together, watch his movies—and in heated moments got a little handsy—but you never went past kissing, though you both desperately wanted to. It was too risky having your brother right next door; and you knew all too well how paper thin your walls were. But in those secretive hours after solar midnight, just being able to exist next to Tom and letting him hold you, you were the happiest you could ever remember being. The second night he left your room to let you sleep, he placed a light kiss on your forehead after he stood up that made the whole thing feel a little too...real.
The next day, you walked into the kitchen and found Harrison at the fridge. You were in a great mood for obvious reasons but couldn’t let it show. “Hey, got any fun plans today?”
He turned around after shoving a handful of grapes in his mouth. “Nope, got some admin stuff to do and gonna turn in early.”
“Oh, Tom isn’t coming over?”
“No, I told him to take a night off. He’s been smothering me, y’know?” he laughed and ate a few more grapes, but then turned to you, confused. “Since when do you care if he’s coming over?”
You swallowed, unsure of what to say. “Just want to know if I need to stay out of the way,” you faked a laugh and blinked hard, hoping he wasn’t paying too much attention to your facial expressions.
“Uh, alright then. You two are always so fuckin’ weird around each other.” He seemed to feel that was a good way to end your exchange and walked out of the kitchen, throwing a grape at you.
You rolled your eyes at your brother, but then felt the sadness bubble up upon registering that you weren’t going to see Tom tonight. But really, how long did you think you could keep this up? The feelings you were developing for him scared you, you didn’t know what to make of them; all you knew was that your days suddenly seemed much grayer without him.
Nighttime came around, and you couldn’t sleep, so you did the unthinkable and sent Tom a text. Your thumb shook as you hit send, knowing that there was now tangible evidence of the connection you’d developed, that it wasn’t just some invention of your mind.
hey, are you awake?
T: yeah, can’t sleep. you?
obviously, i just texted you.
T: shut it.
A minute passed...
T: got room for one more over there?
You smiled like an idiot at your phone.
maybe.
Less than 10 minutes later, you heard the familiar wriggle of your doorknob. You don’t know why you even bothered locking it anymore.
“Hey you,” he whispered, carefully shutting the door behind him.
“Tom, you know you could’ve just knocked and I would’ve let you in- you don’t have to keep picking the lock.”
“Old habits die hard.”
You chuckled and stood up to greet him at your door as he unexpectedly wrapped you in an amazingly tight hug. He rested his chin on top of your head and started to sway your bodies back and forth. You laid your head on his chest and said hello to his heartbeat.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was almost hard to fall asleep without you,” he murmured, placing another one of those domestic kisses on your scalp.
“Well, now you don’t have to.” you smiled. He waddled you backwards to your bed and you sat down as your legs hit the bedframe, prompting Tom to fall onto you as you giggled into his body that was now covering your face.
“Okay, goodniiight,” he said, refusing to move. You poked at his sides making him jump, and he grabbed your waist and rolled you on top of him. You instinctively leaned down so your lips could clash together in the way you were so used to, trying hard to not confess that you’d completely fallen in love with him when you finally had the breath to speak. He pushed your hair to cascade to one side of his face, and nuzzled your nose with his own, closing his eyes and humming with a smile. “Mmm.”
“Hmm?”
“Just happy.”
You rested your sleepy head on his warm chest, and fell into a deep sleep, letting the steady drumming in his chest be a metronome to breathe to.
~
“Oh, shit. Shit shit shit.”
You woke up abruptly, the bright light of day blinding you as you tried to open your eyes to the string of expletives you’d just heard come from a familiar voice. Once you’d opened them, though, you wish you had kept them shut so you hadn’t seen who had spoken.
“Harrison?!”
He was standing in your room, peering at you with hands half covering his eyes when you realized that there was a sleeping Tom underneath you.
Your brother paced in a circle and exhaled loudly. “Tell me I’m not seeing what I’m seeing.”
You nudged Tom awake with your elbow and immediately rolled off of him, trying to hide the very obvious fact that you had slept together all night. You never let him stay the full night for this exact reason, but he had been so ridiculously happy holding you in his arms that he forgot to set an alarm to wake him at the crack of dawn and leave. You sat up straight in your bed, twisting your hair in your hands, bracing yourself for the inevitable tirade.
Tom picked his head up to see Harrison standing there with his arms crossed, and flopped his head back on the pillow. “Fuck. Hey, mate.” He tried to play it off like this was the most normal thing that could happen on a Thursday morning.
“Is this why you’re always such bumbling fools around one another? You’ve been, what, fucking each other when I’m not around?” Harrison looked like he wanted to throw up at the thought.
“Haz, no, it’s not like that,” you said, but he didn’t seem convinced. “It’s just been smoking together and cuddling, really, that’s it,” you were torn between wanting to console your brother and admitting to both him and Tom that this was more to you than that. But Tom already knew that, because it was for him, too.
Tom looked like a deer in headlights. “I’m so sorry, dude-”
Harrison walked out of the room, and the two of you were left sitting in your bed, worry filling your eyes. Only a moment later, your brother reappeared in the doorway.
“Look, you idiots, I don’t care that you’re snuggling off the clock—you’re my two favorite people in the world, and to see you together, honestly, it’s about damn time,” he started, making both your and Tom’s jaws fall slightly agape. You exchanged a knowing look. Wait, is he not mad? Wait, about damn time??
“But I wish you would’ve told me so we could all hang out together. I don’t appreciate the sneaking around.” 
You cocked your head at him, sending him a loving gaze for always just wanting what’s best for you. 
“I’m just mad you aren’t including me in your hotbox sessions, really.” He laughed and ran his hands through his hair, pulling his face back to make a wild expression.
All three of you started to chuckle out of sheer awkwardness and relief.
“Come here.” Harrison held his hands out and you both gave a mutual aww as you ran into your brother’s arms, squeezing him tight.
“I love you, big bro.”
“I know. Now I’m gonna get out of here before you start kissing in front of me, or worse,” he moaned, swiftly exiting your room. “This is gonna be the grossest thing I’ve ever seen...” you heard him say to himself as he left.
You turned to Tom, still shocked at how well that had gone considering what he was assuming would happen. You swallowed the butterflies that you’d welcomed as friends and stepped back to him still sitting on the bed, putting your arms around his neck.
“And you,” you started, swinging your legs over his lap to straddle him. “I have to confess something.”
Tom placed his hands back on your hips where they rightfully belonged and smiled at you. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t mind you calling me babe anymore.” you grinned at his face drop, obviously assuming that you were going to say something else.
“Oh, and why’s that?” he prodded.
You looked up and off to the side as you squeezed his shoulders. “Maybe because I’m just a tad bit in love with you,” you trailed off, stiff as a board at what he could possibly say next.
“Well, babe,” he put emphasis on the pet name, “That’s a relief, because I was worried I might be the only one falling here.”
You grabbed his face and kissed him, kneading his soft cheeks under your thumbs, whispering exactly what you knew would get him the most.
“Nope.”
830 notes · View notes
starshine583 · 4 years
Text
New Girl on the Block (4)
(Y’all ready to read the next update??? Enjoy part four of this fic and if you’re interested, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called the Journal Entries. It’s just little journal snippets from the two dorks that I decided to write for fun :D)
Ch.1 / Ch.3 / Ch.5
Chapter 4: Get to Know You
Marinette slipped on her white, non-flour-covered leather jacket and pushed her pigtails back so they wouldn’t be tucked into her outfit. She then smoothed out her pink dress with a smile, admiring the black flowers that she’d stitched along the bottom. This dress had been one of her stress-relieving projects, but it turned out quite well, in her opinion.
Once Papa had finished teaching her friends how to fold the dough, he put their croissants into the fridge to chill them and instructed everyone to go upstairs and wash up. Marinette dutifully took them up to her room where her personal bathroom was and taught them how to use the shower, but when she tried to lead one of them to her parent’s bathroom as well, they insisted that she take a shower there herself. 
“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we forced the ladies to wait on us?” Claude had said light-heartedly, though she could tell he meant it. Allegra’s smirk as she walked in the bathroom to take a shower first was proof of that. 
The notion had warmed Marinette’s heart, coaxing a giggle from her each time she thought about it. It might be hard to see sometimes, but Claude, Allan, and Felix truly were a considerate and chivalrous group of boys. 
Now, She’s finished her shower in her parent’s bathroom and gone back up to her bedroom, where Allegra, Claude, and Allan had been patiently waiting. Allegra was nice and clean again, wearing the long, purple shirt and black leggings that Marinette had given her, and Claude appeared to have just exited the shower, his damp hair sticking to his face and dripping across his borrowed, black and blue “O.K” shirt. Allan was still covered in flour.
Allegra smiled at Marinette from her spot on the chaise as she re-braided her long, golden blonde hair. “Thanks for the extra clothes, Mari! These are amazing.”
“Yeah!” Claude agreed enthusiastically, holding out his with a grin. “This shirt is awesome!”
Marinette glanced down to hide her blush. “I-It’s the least I could do.”
“We still appreciate it.” Allan replied.
“Oh!” Marinette said, suddenly thinking about the fact that Allan was still covered in flour. “Allan, do you want to use Maman’s shower? You don’t have to stand around waiting for Felix.”
That who she assumed was occupying the shower, anyway. The water was still running, and everyone but Felix was present. 
Allan waved a hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be getting a shower soon if Felix would hurry up.”
Marinette chuckled at Allan’s obvious call to Felix, even more so when Felix shouted back from the bathroom, “You’re the one that let me go first!”
“I didn’t know you would take a day and a half!” 
“That’s still your fault then, isn’t it?” Felix shot back.
Allan scoffed and crossed his arms, causing Marinette to offer her parent’s shower again out of guilt. She had been the one to throw flour on him, after all.
“Are you sure you don’t want to-”
The bathroom door swung open, effectively cutting Marinette off, and Felix stepped out with one hand on his hip and the other hand on the towel that was draped across his head. He shot Allan a glare, practically growling the words, “There. I’m out. Are you happy?”
“Delighted.” Allan responded sarcastically.
Marinette might have been concerned about the growing conflict had she not been focused on Felix’s outfit. Or rather, how well it suited him. The black, three-quarter-sleeved shirt that she’d given him, along with the plaid green, button-up shirt she’d provided to go underneath, clung to his waist, revealing his surprisingly slender figure. The dark grey jeans he wore in place of his dress pants didn’t fit the outfit exactly, but they worked well enough, and Marinette eagerly started taking mental notes for future adjustments.
Allan grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom, while Felix glared daggers at him until the bathroom door closed. 
“Woah~” Allegra crowed, easily breaking the tension. “You should wear casual outfits more often, Felix. They really suit you.”
Claude smirked. “No kidding. I swear you’ve worn the same suit for the whole two years we’ve known.”
Felix turned his glare to Claude with a scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worn plenty of suits, each one made differently.”
Allegra snorted. “That wasn’t.. That was not the point, Felix.”
Felix narrowed his eyes, the barest hint of confusion finding its way to his features, and Marinette took that opportunity to speak up.
“How’s the outfit? Does it fit alright?” She asked. Hopefully she can find the original measurements for the outfit if it does fit fine, because Felix was most likely going to become a regular customer. Maybe he wouldn’t hire her for actual commissions, but she might end up making something for him on impulse. (as you do)
Felix caught her eye, his glare slowly fading as he registered her question.
“The fabric is extremely comfortable, and the clothes fit perfectly.” He said after a moment. “You said you made these?”
She nodded. “With my sewing machine. I was thinking of putting a green paw print on the shirt too, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”
Felix hummed, idly pulling his towel from on top of his head to around his shoulders. “I see. Thank you for lending them to me.”
Marinette blinked, suddenly finding herself captivated by the way his hair fell across his face. Still being damp, various strands stuck to his forehead and cheeks, and he reached up to brush them away. This brought her attention to his face, which, for some reason, she hadn’t quite noticed before. The defined jawline, the subtle-yet-there cheek bones, the pointed nose- all of his features were sharp. Even his eyes held a silver tint to them that reminded her of steel. 
These observations dragged her to one, rather important revelation: Felix Culpa was actually a fairly handsome person.
“Marinette?” Felix said, drawing her from her thoughts. “Are you alright?”
A rush of heat swarmed her cheeks, and Marinette straightened. “W-what? I mean yes! Yeah, I’m totally fine, I.. yes.”
“Hey, speaking of clothes!” Claude piped up, graciously saving Marinette from her own awkwardness. “How’s my prince costume going?”
Marinette twirled around in her rolling chair and grabbed for her sketching notebook. A distraction was definitely something she needed right now.
“I’ve got a few different ideas, but you need to come tell which one you like best.” She explained as she flipped open the notebook.
Claude hopped up from the stray chest he’d been sitting on and practically bounced over to her seat. She let him scan each page, smiling when he started humming “Ooh’s” and “Aah’s”.
“I can only pick one?! But they’re all so good!” Claude remarked, almost exasperated.
Marinette chuckled. “Well.. I guess I can make all of them for you, but you at least need to choose which one I start on.”
Claude gasped. “You mean you’re going to make all of these for me?”
“It’s going to take a month or so to get them all done.” She warned. “But-”
Claude scooped her into a bone-crushing hug, briefly reminding her of her father. “Thank you, Mari! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”
Marinette laughed and gave him a light pat on the arm. “You’re welcome.”
Her smile widened as Claude eagerly grabbed the notebook and ran back to his designated chest to look through the drawing again. It was nice to see someone who was also enthusiastic about fashion. She’d gotten tired of talking to people who simply didn’t understand the hype of creating unique styles of clothing. 
“You know he’s never going to leave you alone now, right?” Felix commented next to her.
Marinette offered him a glance as she said, “I think I can live with that.”
Felix shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
She smiled at that. Felix may be striking, but that didn’t have to change anything. Lots of people were striking. And lots of people remained friends despite that.
“Oh,” Felix muttered, seeming to remember something, “Where do you want me to put my clothes? They’re still in the bathroom because of Allan, but..”
“Uhm.. I think Maman said she was going to wash them.” Marinette answered. “She wanted to try to get them clean before supper for all of you.”
“Ah, supper.” Claude cut in, heaving a jokingly wistful sigh. “I can’t wait for that. If your mom’s croissants can taste that heavenly, then her full meals must be amazing.”
He sunk against the chest for emphasis, not realizing that there was a gap between the chest and the wall. The sudden weight threw the chest off balance, and it tipped forward, causing Claude to get jerked backwards. He flailed his arms briefly and yelped before crashing to the floor. The front of the chest hit the ground as well, and the impact popped it open, scattering various objects across the floor.
“Oh, Claude!”
“Are you okay?” 
The girls rushed to his side to help him up, but Felix shot him a flat look.
“First the kitchen and now her bedroom.” He said curtly. “Should we tear up the living room next? Or perhaps the dining room has more fragile items?”
Allegra rolled her eyes. “Felix, can you at least try to be sympathetic.”
“I am being sympathetic. Marinette doesn’t have the money to replace things at the drop of a hat like we do. It’s rude to behave so recklessly in her home.”
Marinette glanced up at Felix, not sure whether to find his words sweet or offensive. “Trust me, it’s fine. This chest is old anyway.”
Felix’s frown told her that he didn’t agree on the matter, but before he could argue further, the bathroom door swung open again.
“What happened?” Allan asked, his hair still dripping wet. “I heard the crash. Is anyone hurt?”
“Only my pride.” Claude groaned in response. He was sitting up now and rubbing his head as Allegra switched between scolding and coddling.
Allan sighed with relief. “Oh, good. You can’t hurt something that’s not there.”
“Hey!”
Marinette giggled at the comment. “Allan, how is your outfit? Do I need to make any adjustments?”
Allan glanced down at his clothes. She’d given him a maroon shirt with a blue heartbeat line in the center, a black and blue shirt to go underneath, and a pair of black jeans. He didn’t appear to be wearing the second shirt, though.
“Oh, they fit great.” He said, twisted his torso a bit to get a better feel for the new clothes. “I didn’t have time to put on the second shirt, though. I heard the crash and panicked.”
Marinette offered him a smile. “That’s fine. I can just put it back in the closet.”
Allan nodded and looked down at the mess. “So Claude spilled this chest?”
“Yeah, he was being an idiot.” Allegra remarked as she picked up one of the trinkets. “You know. Nothing new.”
“Wow. can you guys lay off for two seconds?” Claude huffed. He reached forward to pick up one of the objects as well, curiosity overtaking his annoyance. “What is all of this stuff, anyway?”
Marinette glanced at the miscellaneous objects to check- she had several trunks that acted as ‘junk drawers’ -and immediately cringed when she recognized a black hat with rainbow colors stitched along the bottom.
“Oh..” It was Adrien’s gift chest. She’d almost forgotten that she had it. “They’re, um.. They’re just crafts, really.”
“Just crafts?” Claude repeated, holding up a crocheted Ladybug doll. “These are awesome!”
Marinette watched them for a moment. “...do you want them?”
The group looked up in shock, and Marinette quickly added, “Y-You don’t have to take them! I’ve just.. Uh.. they’re like junk? I mean, not junk, but this is my junk chest.. Sort of. I’ve just been meaning to get rid of them. So if you want them, you can have them.” 
Allegra frowned. “Are you sure? It looks like you put a lot of effort into these.”
Marinette nodded. “Positive. Take whatever you want.”
Although hesitant at first, the group continued to look through the gifts, and little by little, they started to take some. A smile came to Marinette’s lips as she watched the pile of Adrien junk dwindle. She had spent a lot of time on making the presents, but there was no way she’d be giving them to Adrien now. So what was the point of keeping them in her room? To serve as a mocking reminder of how blind she had been while loving him? No thanks.
By the time they were done, the chest only had half the gifts it used to, and Marinette quickly decided that she would donate the leftovers once she got the chance. 
“Thanks for the stuff, Mari!” Claude said cheerfully, his hands full of various objects.
Allegra nodded, holding a few things herself. “Yeah, you really do spoil us.”
“Which is saying something, considering we’re rich.” Allan teased, pocketing the two items that he’d decided to snatch. 
Marinette chuckled. “You’re helping me more than I am you.”
She stood up and walked to the bathroom to grab the boys’ old clothes. “I’m gonna bring these down to Maman, but feel free to look around until I get back.”
The group voiced their agreements, and Marinette climbed down the trapdoor ladder with the pile of clothes in hand, feeling like another weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.
Getting rid of Adrien’s gifts was one more step towards happiness, and she couldn’t wait to keep walking.
~~~~~~
One can tell a lot about a person by their bedroom. How clean they were, whether they were sentimental, which things they found important- a bedroom could quite literally be considered a box in which someone stored their entire personality. That’s why Felix had been anticipating this part of the visit. Someone can be a master manipulator, but their room would always show their true selves. And it only took one look for Felix to know..
Marinette really loved the color pink.
Seriously, she had it everywhere. The walls, the furniture, the carpet- How was she not sick of the color by now? Felix was sick of it, and he’d only been there for about twenty minutes!
Pushing the pink thought aside, he continued poking around her room. Marinette had gone downstairs to pass his clothes off to her mother, so that gave him a bit of time to inspect the space unsupervised. Not that he was planning on doing anything scandalous. It merely gave him the opportunity of observing Marinette’s room on his own terms.
When she told him that her room was up in the attic, he’d been understandably shocked. The attic didn’t sound like a spacious place to sleep, let alone work on homework and other personal things. Seeing it now, though, Felix realized that that wasn’t the case. The attic was actually quite open. There was a desk, a closet, various chests, a bathroom, and she still had a good portion of the room empty. He wondered if that was thanks to the original size of the room or thanks to Marinette’s resourcefulness.
Her cleaning style wasn’t too bad, either. Don’t get him wrong, there were things scattered everywhere, but it was a specific type of scattered, like an organized chaos. He had a feeling that she knew where most of her necessities were. 
Felix moved to her desk, where most of the mess was focused. There were papers, sewing needles, scraps of fabric, and pencils spread across the surface. Her interest in fashion certainly shined through, as most of the papers were filled with various sketches and measurements. He found that admirable. When someone usually speaks of their ‘dream job’, they speak of it as a fantasy, one that they never intend to fully pursue, but Marinette was obviously reaching as high as she could to grasp her goal. She even had a mannequin in her room.
“Marinette’s room is so cool!” Claude exclaimed from the loft up top. “She even has a balcony!”
Felix glanced upwards, briefly setting the papers he’d been studying aside. There’s a balcony upstairs? He didn’t recall seeing a balcony on the way in.
“Claude, you have a balcony.” Allegra reminded him with an amused smile.
“Yeah, but mine only extends from the side of the building.” Claude defended. “This one’s on the roof!”
Ah, so that’s why Felix hadn’t seen it.
Allan frowned. “Really? Isn’t that a little dangerous?”
“It’s got a rail.” 
“Oh, okay. That’s fine then.”
Allegra chuckled as she brushed her hands against the hat on Marinette’s mannequin. “Marinette’s room is pretty neat, though.”
“I think it’s just Marinette who’s cool.” Allan remarked.
Allegra and Claude heartily agreed, and Felix nodded. “Cool” probably wouldn’t be the exact word that he’d use to describe her, but overall, it wasn’t far off.
“Can you believe we’ve only known her for a week?” Claude asked as he climbed down to their level. “It feels like we’ve known her forever already.”
“Yeah, but I think that’s just how she is.” Allegra smiled. “She draws you in and makes you feel like family.”
“Her parents are the same way.” Allan said. “You can really tell where she gets it from.”
“Where who gets what from?” 
Felix, along with the rest of the group, turned to the trapdoor, where Marinette was standing about halfway through. She didn’t have the clothes anymore, but she did have a tray of drinks.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Allegra said dismissively. “What are those?”
Marinette set the tray on the ground long enough to climb through and close the trapdoor as she explained, “Maman and Papa thought you guys might be thirsty, so she sent me up with a bunch of different drinks to choose from.”
“Sweet!” Claude grinned, swiftly walking over in case she needed help. “Do you have Dr. Pepper?”
Marinette smiled and turned the tray to reveal a deep red can of soda. “Yep! I know it’s your favorite.”
“You truly are a blessing.” Claude replied, grabbing the soda off of the tray.
Marinette giggled and brought the tray forward for the rest of them to pick. Allegra chose a pepsi, while Allan snagged a coke, and Felix grabbed the slim cup of coffee that sat to the side.
He took a sip of it, enjoying the warmth of the bitter liquid. It didn’t escape his notice that Marinette had brought up all of their preferred drinks. She even got his coffee right (Black with three sugars). 
Despite how scatter-brained she could be, Marinette still paid attention to details, which was impressive. Felix didn’t know anyone else who could space out during an entire conversation, yet remember the exact type of drink everyone ordered during lunch.
“So what do you guys want to do now? We still have about half an hour before supper is finished.” Marinette asked, setting the tray aside. 
Allan shrugged. “What do you have?”
Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, we have board games, card games, Mecha Strike 3-”
“Mecha Strike 3?” Claude perked up. “Yes, please!”
Marinette laughed. “Is everyone else okay with that?”
“Sounds great.” Allan smiled.
Allegra shrugged. “I’m fine with it.” 
Felix, being satisfied with his inspection for now, sat down on the chaise. “I’ll watch.”
The rest of the group huddled around Marinette’s computer while she turned it on, and after a bit of debating, they decided on ‘winner faces next player’ and started with Allan and Claude. Felix watched the first two games, just long enough to see Marinette cream Allan, before reverting back to his studious ways. He scanned the bedroom again, hoping to catch something new, when his gaze landed on the trunk that Claude had tipped over earlier. With everyone bustling around it, Felix hadn’t gotten a chance to sift through it, but now that they were occupied with Marinette’s game..
Felix shifted in his seat and re-opened the chest. It was only half full, as opposed to its previously overflowing contents, but that didn’t bother him. There were still plenty of things inside, such as shirts, figurines, hats, and other things. He pulled out a jacket and turned it in his hands, admiring the handiwork. The hood, along with the cuffs of the sleeves and zipper were pitch black, but the rest of the jacket was a deep red, save for the black spots that littered it. “Miraculous” was written on the back in cursive as well. Was this supposed to be based off of the Parisian superhero Ladybug? Why would she want to get rid of this? At the very least, she could make a profit by selling it.
What did she use to make this? The material is so soft.. Felix thought as he unzipped the jacket. It was completely black on the inside, save for some tiny, golden lettering near the section wear the pocket would be.
“To: Adrien
From: Marinette”
Felix frowned. How strange. Why would Marinette be giving away things that she made specifically for someone else? He dug through the chest some more, this time looking for names, and what he found was shocking. 
Almost every gift had the name ‘Adrien’ on it somewhere, whether it be a card or stitching or marker. Some gifts didn’t have a name, but at that point, Felix felt it was safe to assume that everything in the chest was supposed to be for this ‘Adrien’ person. 
That begged the question, though: Who was Adrien? And why would she create so many gifts for him just to give them away?
A small card stitched on the ear of a stuffed cat gave him his answer.
“Dear Adrien, 
Happy 19th birthday! It’s officially been five years since we’ve known each other. Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, I just wanted to say happy birthday (even though I’ve already said it) and that I’m really happy we got to meet. Enjoy the cat!
With all my love, Marinette”
Felix glanced up at Marinette, who was blissfully ignorant of his findings as she defeated Claude for the second time at Mecha Strike 3. Did she intend to use all of these as birthday presents? How many gifts were in there? Did she expect this person to have the same interests twenty years from now? He couldn’t decide if this level of planning was due to over-thinking or just plain obsession. Maybe both.
“Hey, Felix!” 
Felix flinched at the sudden call of his name, weirdly feeling as if he’d been caught in the act of some crime. He looked up to see Claude waving a controller at him.
“Are you sure you don’t want to play?” The brunette asked.
“Talk to me when you have chess.” Felix replied shortly, going back to the chest. He had hoped that seeing Marinette’s room would provide more answers to her life, but it only issued more questions. Did she have this amount of gifts for all of her friends or was Adrien special? If he was special, what way would it be? Was he possibly an ex-lover? She dated him for a while, and they had a recent falling out, which was why she was getting rid of the gifts. That would make sense.
“He just wants to talk.”
Her words from last week resurfaced in his mind. The person who chased her that day was the only one she reacted bitterly towards. Was Adrien trying to get back together with her? 
Was he the reason she left her old school in the first place?
My, my Dupain-Cheng. Felix thought. Aren’t you just full of secrets?
Tag List:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce
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deepdonutkid · 4 years
Text
Buy me a drink and let me tell you why I need it
Authors note
Thank you very much for the request    @caelys​ I had fun writing it and actually I thought about modern!au John way too much. Like I made a model for his apartment and a playlist and I could possibly draw ten more fan arts of him.
It takes place in a modern setting, but it starts before John goes to the military. He and Tommy still work in the Garrison, besides some other shadier jobs. Arthur is a car mechanic or something like that. Ada still goes to school and Finn too. Polly and Michael are not mentioned here.
Female reader x bartender!John BIG PUNK VIBES HERE!
Actually, this was going to be a multi-chapter fic with intense slow-burn, but whatever there it is. Just say one thing and I’ll write a second part!
tagging  @bonniesgoldengirl​
 Warning: drinking, drug use, marijuana, swearing, infidelity mentioned, a little bittersweet
Word count: 2348
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 The garrison was not a pub for everyone. It was full of gangsters and other low-life scum. A woman was a curiosity. Working there wasn’t pleasant, but John didn’t complain.
It was the only legal job he got after graduating. He worked at the Garrison twice a week, usually on Friday and Saturday.
The nice thing about this work was the free beer and he could make as many cigarette breaks as he liked.
Nevertheless, John was a little pissed that night, because he could see his friends drinking over there and he had to stand behind the counter. Tommy’s orders!
“Fuck off, Tommy”, he mumbled while cleaning bar. Of course, his brother didn’t hear that, he was busy making some phone calls. John didn’t want to know, who Tommy was calling or why. Probably their next job.
But while he was still on the first one, he didn’t want to think about more work. He already had enough. It was past ten and John hadn’t eaten for hours.
At first, he was to occupied from his work to notice you. You sat down at the bar and cleared your throat. It wasn’t on purpose or to get the bartenders attention. Actually, you just wanted your peace. You hated being trapped in your new apartment, while everything was still so empty. Since you moved, so much changed in your life, but you still felt lonely.
That’s why, you walked straight into the nearest pub, when you couldn’t bear the weight of your own thoughts. But now you realized you hadn’t a penny left. Or at least not enough for a beer. “Get me a glass of water please.”, you said to the bartender, who kept starring at you. First you thought he was a little weird and also a little intimidating, but then you understood what he expected from you. An order, of course.
“A glass of water?”, he asked with a grin on his face: “Really? You know, where you are, girl?”
Now you looked confused. Maybe there was an unspoken rule, to not order a soft drink in this place, but how you should know? After all, you’ve been pretty new to Small Heath. Three days ago you moved into your new place. It was small, but it was yours. Your private space and your sanctuary. “A pub… maybe?”, you joked: “So what about the water?”
“Ah, I get it… It’s the end of month.”, he responded.
You laughed and shook your head. “I’m always broke. Money is not my thing.”
“Not mine either.”
Now he got your attention. You took a closer look at the bartender. He was somehow handsome. A pretty face for a fucked-up place like this. Then you noticed the tattoos on his arms, that peaked out of the sleeves of his shirt. “Dead Kennedys. Nice”, you mumbled and smiled slightly, barely visible.
He put a filled glass in front of you and smirked. “No need to pay.”
Your eyes widened. That bartender really surprised you. He was nicer than he looked like. You took a sip from the glass and nodded. “Thanks… I guess.”
The water was okay, but everything you wished for was a beer or a whiskey. Something to stop your brain from thinking. However, you nipped the glass very patiently, because you didn’t want to leave this place too soon. You didn’t know the neighborhood and chances were high, you got lost on your way around town.
The bartender seemed to notice your tension. “Do you want to drink something else?”
“A beer would be nice.” You croaked
The handsome man behind the bar nodded and pulled out a pint. “A beer, it is.”
You didn’t know it yet, but you were the only thing tonight, that made his work bearable. Everything else was so boring and you were new in town. Every little thing about you was so exciting for him. Staring with the fact that you stumbled into the Garrison without knowing its reputation. Then your little comment about his shirt, yes, he heard that. And your overall appearance was just the cherry on top.
The leather jacket, the ripped jeans and your washed-out Kurt Cobain shirt said a lot about you and John was ready to listen. What else should he do in the next couple of hours until his shift ended?  
“I’m John.”, he said and served you a beer.
You noticed the twinkle with his eye and replied with a shy smile. “Just call me Y/n”
The two of you shook hands and exchanged a strange glance. Was he flirting with you? No, of course not, you brushed it off. It was part of his job, to be nice to his customers.
After a few sips of your beer, you calmed down a bit, but not enough. You fumbled in the inside pocket of your jacket for your package. You smoked Dunhill and probably started way to early in life. An end of your smoking addiction was not in sight. The package was already half empty, when you opened it.
“Fuck” you cursed and signed. How could you make it to your next pay check with just a few cigarettes left? Maybe skip dinner a few times.
“Cigarettes are empty too?” he asked “I would give you one of mine, but they are empty too.”
“No, I still have some left, but not enough until July. Maybe not even enough for the rest of this night.”, you explained.
You took two out of the package and put it back. “Want one? I don’t have money, but at least I still have something to smoke.”
“Whatcha smoking?” “Dunhill”, you answered.
A wide grin appeared on his face. “Me too.”
“I know, I shouldn’t… but I just can’t quit.” You shrugged and lit your cigarette.
John brushed it off. “Fuck em. I think, I’m never gonna quit too. This shit just stays with you forever.”
“True”, you signed and took a deep drag from your cigarette.
“So… why am I the only girl in this place? Is there something I should know?”
“Nah, not really. It’s just…”, he began to explain, but then paused to smoke. You liked how he leaned against the counter. Like there was no cooler person in this room. “I don’t know… most women don’t like it here. Too filthy or whatever.”
You nodded and looked around. Everything smelled like ashtray and whiskey. There was dirt lying around. Nobody seemed to bother, so you chose not to either.
“And you are new in Birmingham?”, he asked: “All the locals know to stay away from this place.”
Again, you nodded and hid your smile behind your hand. “I just grabbed my bass and some clothes and left.”
“Bass?” Now, John was hooked. Since he could walk and talk, he had a thing for music. Especially rock and punk and he blabber about his favorite bands all day. Of course, he never learned to play an instrument, because his family was too poor, but he stole every record he could lay hands on. “You play bass?”
“Yeah, I can also play guitar, but I sold mine to get here. I started playing in a band now and I really hope this is going to work out… somehow.”, you explained
“Maybe.”, he said: “I can ask Harry, if you can play here. Live music would be great.”
You beamed and jumped almost over the counter. “Really?”
“But I need to listen to a song first. Otherwise, I can’t do it with good conscience.”
“Yeah, sure thing! When I get the promo tape, I’ll come back here.” Finally, some good news for you. After all you went though you really needed that and right now you just couldn’t stop smiling.
Three beers later, you were already in an in-depth discussion about music and which bands paved the way for punk.
After six more beers, you danced to the song he put on. John watched you with the purest joy. Nobody has ever danced in the Garrison. Good for him, that Tommy left, because “something important” occurred.
On beer twelve you sang for all the man to watch. The Shelby just could take his eyes off you, even when you didn’t hit the right tone.
He even caught you, when you fell over the counter.
But in the end the bar had to close and you still had nowhere to go, so you waited for him to finish his work. It took twice as long, because John kept staring at you in awe.
After everything was done, he asked, if he should walk you home and you agreed. Actually, you didn’t say yes, you hugged him and rubbed your cheek against his. Then you made a purring sound and told him your address.
You even hold hands with him, but that was mainly, because you were to drunk to walk straight. But you had plenty of time to sober up along the way.
Finally arriving at the front door, you had to stop laughing and catch a breath to manage to say something. “Do you…”, you began and paused, because you didn’t know how to phrase it.
Without hesitation he answered: “Yes! Yes… I mean, it would be cool.”
And again, you started laughing. “I was about to ask, if you want to watch the stars on my rooftop, but I didn’t know you were going to be so excited about this.”
He scratched his neck and chuckled. “Yeah, we were talking about the same thing.”
“Oh honey, I’m taken”, you explained
That last three words crumbled his hopes, that have been build up since you walked into the Garrison.
But he was a gentleman and he shouldn’t expect anything from a woman. After all, you don’t owe him anything. Even though he thought you were flirting with him the entire night.
He just bit his lip and shrugged. “No problem here.”
Then he added: “But we might not see the stars though all the smog and light pollution.”
“Let’s give it a try.” you opened the door and smiled.
You took the steps up to your apartment, John followed you closely. When the two of you entered the small flat, everything was still dark. The alarm clock next to your mattress said four in the morning.
John was so curious, when he looked around. “You really didn’t lie, when you said, you just took you bass and nothing more.”
“Yup”, you mumbled and walked to a pile of clothes. “Do you want to smoke one with me?”
When you pulled out the joint, John grinned at you. His cheeks were still red. “Why not?”
Climbing out of your window and onto the roof sounded way easier than it turned out to be.
But the view was great, and that was enough.
You lit the joint and inhaled the white smoke, just to blow it out again.
“No stars in sight, babe”, he noted while looking up
He was right, but you were still glad, that he came up here with you. You feared the moment of being alone again. “Yes, but the view… is amazing.”
You didn’t notice, he was glaring at you when he said: “Yeah, it really is.”
Then you turned to him to pass him the joint.
John took one drag and coughed. “That shit’s strong.”
At first you tried not to laugh, but ended up giggling anyway.
“What?”, he asked with blunt curiosity.
When you calmed down, you had to tell him the joke that just crossed your mind: “I like my weed like my sex… keeps me paralyzed for a while.”
That was the last thing he thought he would hear from you. He would believe his ears, if he hadn’t starred at your lips the entire time. “Uhm, okay.”, he whispered and hit the joint one more time.
The longer you sat there with him, the more comfortable you two got. After talking the whole night about music and artists and stuff, you finally opened up.
You told him why you left your home town and moved to Birmingham.
And he told you in return something you would have expected either. “Just a few more months and I’ll be in the military.”
John didn’t look like a soldier or somebody who took pride in defending his country. You couldn’t understand, how a wonderful guy like him ended up serving the forces. It just didn’t seem to fit in. But then again, you knew him for a few hours now, so who are you to judge?
“I’m scared”, he whispered: “that nobody but my family will write me… and I’m going to be all alone in the middle of nowhere.”
That feeling was all too familiar for you. Your heart ached, when you glared at him. “I write you.”, you promised. “And phone you and what else.”
“You would?” His voice was full of doubt. “We don’t know each other really.”
It was true, but you always kept your promises. You moved closer to him, to hold his hand and look him in the eyes. “I would. I know this feeling too well.”
For one second you thought he was going to kiss you, and you were ready. The drumroll played, like it always did, when the first touch of two pairs of lips, unknown to each other, was close. But the drumroll was all you were going to get tonight. You kept staring at his beautiful mouth and how would it feel, when his lips meet yours. Infidelity has never been your thing and you would stay true to yourself, even when the chance was so tempting.
“Can you hold me?”, you asked, while avoiding his eyes. You felt pathetic for being so needy in front of a stranger, so you added: “Just for a while.”
John didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Instead, he just pulled you in arms and stroke your back.
The two of you felt all alone in this broken world, but right there you met and became friends. What a weird thing to happen.
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mycupoffanfiction · 4 years
Text
The One
Coco Cruz x Reader
Summary: Coco turns you in a clumsy, shy mess every time he’s around and you just can’t quite find the courage to tell him how you feel, that is until your Mayan brothers drag you both to a funfair.
Warnings: Fluff, lots of shyness, Angel and Gilly trying to be wingmen, a brief mention of public sex acts.
Word count: Approx 2600
Masterlist
A/N: Hi loves, I’ve been working on this fic for months, but it was never quite right, but I loved it too much to scrap it, so I’m super happy to finally be able to share it with you! I did struggle with this a bit, so I apologise if it’s not super smooth, but hey 🤷🏻‍♀️ This is just the first part, the second part will be with you soon. Enjoy! 💖
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“How the fuck are you winning again?” Gilly groaned, slouching in his chair opposite you as you placed down a card on the table, effectively winning the round of the card game you were playing. Giggling, you shrugged and crossed one leg over the other, looking rather smug with yourself. “You challenged me, remember?” You giggled, all too happy that you’d won another round. Gilly sighed and tilted his head back before gathering up the cards. “One more round?” He asked, handing you the cards to shuffle and you nodded, taking them from him.
Shuffling the cards, you were mid conversation with Gilly about how you wanted to go to the fair that had been set up just outside of town, when Angel and Coco entered the clubhouse. “It’ll be great, also, I don’t believe him, but Coco said he’d never had cotton candy before and-.” “He’s never what?” Gilly replied, incredulous, if not a little over dramatic and you giggled, shaking your head. “There’s your chance for a date, hermana, take ‘im to get cotton candy.” Gilly chuckled, nudging your hand with his, to which you protested with a drawn out, hushed ‘noooo Gilly’.
You were a dear friend to the club and all of its members, so much so that you were often titled ‘hermana’ since you had become a sister to most members, though some of them, notably Bishop had taken to calling you mija. But really, you kept everyone in the club grounded and you were greatly appreciated for your loving, sweet nature, despite the fact that you were horrendously clumsy and on more than one occasion had managed to run into people, drop everything and break things, not that anyone minded. But it always seemed to happen more prominently around Coco and the boys were beginning to notice it happen more frequently when you were around him.
“What are you two up to?” Angel asked, interrupting your thoughts as you shuffled the cards. “Just having a game.” Gilly replied, going on to tell Angel about how he’d totally won the last three rounds, to which Angel snorted in disbelief. It was another moment before you even realised that Coco was there, he’d not said a word, but you looked up to deal the cards between you, only to see him eyeing you over Gilly’s shoulder and you fumbled with the cards, some of the deck falling from your hands and spilling over the table and scattering everywhere while you attempted to keep them together.
“Oh jesus- fucking- hi Coco.” You managed to squeak out, Gilly trying so hard to contain his laughter as Angel gathered up the cards that had dropped to the floor and you felt the heat of embarrassment surge through you as you shuffled the cards back into a stack. “Hey corazón.” Coco responded with a light chuckle at your sudden bout of clumsiness and you felt yourself melt at the name he used for you, hoping it wasn’t too obvious how shy and embarrassed you were.
“I’ll get some beer.” Coco announced, throwing you a smile as he walked away. “How long is this gonna go on for? I can’t deal with you goin’ all butter fingers whenever you just fucking look at him.” Angel hissed, though he was far too amused by it all to actually be annoyed and you desperately wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “Everyone knows you love him.” Angel told you and your eyes went wide. “I’m pretty sure even Coco knows.” He chuckled and you felt even more nervous about saying anything. “Shut the fuck up, man. Don’t listen to Angel, hermana.” Gilly said, lightly whacking him on the arm. “You gotta tell Coco-.” “Tell me what?” Coco cut in as he came back with some bottles and you slid down a little in your seat. “Oh, our little hermana here-.” “Thinks it’s ridiculous that you’ve never had cotton candy before.” Gilly interrupted Angel, kicking him under the table and you gave him a thankful smile before shooting daggers at Angel who looked far too pleased with himself. “What?” Angel asked, giving you a mischievous grin.
Coco just looked at you with a raised brow, evidently not believing it one bit and you quickly reached for your drink, hoping at the very least that occupying yourself with the bottle would distract you a bit. Coco lit himself a cigarette and toked it a couple of times before taking a full draw of his smoke, reaching for his beer.
“So what about that fair outside of town this weekend?” Gilly asked. “I’m down, I need a change of fucking scenery.” Angel nodded. “Coco?” Gilly asked as you took a sip from your bottle. He shrugged, looking at the two men with indifference. “Hey, c’mon man, remember last time with the photobooth?” Angel nudged him, winking. “Shut up, carnal.” Coco rolled his eyes, taking a puff from his cigarette as Gilly snorted. “The fabled tale of Coco gettin’ loco with not one, but two girls in a fuckin’ photobooth.” Angel said, speaking as if it was some kind of epic tale, when really, it was more of a half drunk escapade that Coco barely remembered a wink of, apart from maybe the tale end of a two girl blowjob.
“You comin’ hermana?” Gilly asked, completely changing the subject and you looked between the three men, giving them a look of uncertainty. “I don’t know guys, you’re just gonna abandon me in the teacups again.” You pouted, Gilly and Angel immediately erupting into laughter at the memory from last year.
Coco huffed as he listened to the conversation. He didn’t care about finding girls to have a little fun with at the fair, if anything, he was more interested in something else, not that he was going to make that known, especially not with Angel and Gilly around.
Coco leaned over, draping his arm around the back of your chair. “I’ll go if you go, corazón.” He whispered in your ear and you instantly felt yourself burn up from his close proximity and the way he said those words, deep, enticing, but somehow still sweet and soft. Angel and Gilly too were far too wrapped up in retelling stories of their last trip to a fair to pay any attention to Coco’s actions and you swallowed heavily, glancing shyly across at him, the Mayan much closer than you had anticipated and as you faced him, eyes almost too timid to meet his, your breaths mingled for a moment with how closely he had leaned in.
“I’ll go.” You responded quietly, voice barely audible, but Coco heard you just fine and your response prompted a big, lopsided smile on his lips and you wondered how you’d even mustered the courage to respond.
“See you there, corazón.” He smirked, leaning back to take the last sip of his beer before he stood up from the table abruptly enough to get the attention of Angel and Gilly.
“Gotta go, got shit to do with Letty.” He said, putting his bottle down on the table. “See you later ‘mano.” Angel waved him off, Gilly eyeing your flustered state and giving you a questioning look as you attempted to pull yourself together.
“You alright hermana?” He asked. “Probably.” You nodded, clearing your throat a little and shifting in your seat, uncomfortable under the questioning looks you were getting from both men before you finally decided to awkwardly say goodbye to your brothers and excuse yourself from the table.
“Tell me I wasn’t the only one who saw that?” Gilly hissed at Angel. “Nah man, I saw the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her.”
The next day was far too quick to come around and by the time you’d rocked up to the fun fair on the back of Gilly’s bike, you felt like the last day had slipped away from you far faster than you would have liked. It wasn’t that you weren’t looking forward to spending the day with your boys, you were so excited to spend some time with them away from the MC. But your apprehension came more from being afraid that you might fuck things up with Coco. What if you told him how you felt and he rejected you? What if he avoided you? That would crush you, but while you had been nervous about admitting feelings to Coco, all of your brothers knew that the two of you would be perfect together, which was why they were adamant on pushing you both together despite your often silent panic when they did so.
It was early evening as you walked with Gilly over to where Angel was standing in the parking lot, leaning against his bike, waiting impatiently for you both.
“You’re gonna tell Coco today, right?” Angel asked before he even greeted you, pushing away from his bike before approaching you and Gilly. “Oh yeah, it’s real nice to see you too Angel.” Gilly replied in a sarcastic tone, making the taller of the two snort in response. “But you’re gonna, right?” Gilly joined in, turning to look at you as you glanced at the two bikers who stared at you expectantly. “I mean… Maybe?” You answered, hoping it was enough to get them off your back about Coco, but it only seemed to make it worse because Angel was adamant a plan he’d come up with for how you should tell Coco was ‘fool proof’, whatever that implied.
“We’re meeting Coco in the fair, he’s late.” Angel informed you both as Gilly began to lead the group of you across the parking lot towards the entrance booth. “Club shit?” Gilly asked. “Nah, somethin’ to do with Letty.” He shrugged.
You stood with a grin on your lips as you watched Gilly and Angel playfully banter between them as they waited to have a go at winning something at a booth with water pistols and targets.
As you watched, you almost jumped out of your skin when you felt two hands gently grip your shoulders and you barely had time to react before you heard his deep, low voice, quickly relaxing you. “Whoa, relax corizon, s’just me.” Coco spoke softly in your ear. “Coco,” You looked over your shoulder at him with an uncontrollable smile, the biker coming round to your side, his arm staying around your shoulders.
“Sorry I’m late, was making cake with Letty.” Coco told you with a smile. “Don’t tell Angel that.” He added, making you giggle and shake your head. “I won’t, your secret is safe with me.” You replied, voice quiet and soft. Coco looked over at you, his grip on your arm tightening slightly as he caught your gaze, noting how relaxed you looked, how relaxed you felt against him and it brought a warmth to his heart to see you that way.
Angel glanced over his shoulder at Coco and the pair nodded at each other in a silent greeting, Angel smirking as soon as he saw you tucked against Coco’s side with his arm around you before he turned his attention back to the game when it was his and Gilly’s turn.
“Wanna go do shit without those two?” Coco asked. “Gonna have another headache if I gotta babysit them.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, I’d like that.” You nodded, letting Coco tug you along with him.
Coco walked you through the fairground, stopping by stalls and booths along the way to play a few games, his smile always doubling in size whenever he heard you giggle, noticing you enjoying yourself in his company. Coco had wanted to spend time with you and talk to you for a while, but no matter how hard he tried, one of the Mayans always seemed to drop themselves into the conversation before he even had a chance to try and ease you out of your shell and give you his full, undivided attention.
And now, as you both found yourself on the furthest side of the fairground, overlooking a beautiful sunset in the distance with a bag of candy floss in Coco’s hand that he shared with you.
It was such a sweet moment, calm and dreamy, the ambience of funfair was soft in the background, the soft, golden glow of the sunset gently casting over the desert horizon.
Coco looked over at you, bathed in golden light, gorgeous with a soft smile on your lips. He felt himself smile uncontrollably as you leaned against his side, his hand finding yours, fingers slowly and gently intertwining.
It felt right, it felt like it was meant to be in the sweet, serene moment you shared together and Coco knew right then and there that he’d found the one for him. You were the one.
“Coco,” It came out as a whisper, warmth filling you when you realised how naturally your hand had fit in his, how wonderful his touch felt against yours. “Yeah, corazón?” He asked, barely above a whisper, his voice low and warm against your ear as he leaned against you.
“I… I’m-.” You cut yourself off with a sigh, eyes cast down at your feet, trying to hide yourself, the feeling of shyness overcame you.
“Hey, take your time, mi estrellita.” Coco hummed softly to you, his voice soothing as you drew in a deep, slow breath. But when you became too shy to respond, he smiled, bringing your hand up to his chest, prompting you to look at him, a bit too timid to hold his gaze fully. “Look at me, mi corazón.” Coco whispered, reaching over to lift your chin with his fingers.
You shared a comfortable moment of silence together, your hand resting against his chest, the background chatter and laughter of the fair adding to the ambience, the sun slowly lowering just enough to leave you bathed in a soft, hazy twilight.
“I know, I know that every time you look at me, you get shy.” Coco said, watching as you tore your gaze away from him quickly. “Hey hey, wait, hold on corazón.” He urged, tugging you back to him gently. “But I get butterflies every time I look at you, I get this fuckin’ uncontrollable smile whenever I see you lookin’ at me ‘cause fuck, ma, you drive me crazy.” He smiled to himself, his eyes lighting up as he spoke openly about how he felt.
“It drives me fuckin’ crazy whenever I think about you, I think ‘bout all this shit I wanna do with you, shit I’ve never wanted to do with anyone before.” He confessed, both of his hands holding yours to his chest as he spoke and you couldn’t help but look at him and wonder if you weren’t just dreaming. “Really?” You managed to get out. “Yeah, I can’t get’chu outta my mind.” Coco grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your hands.
“I wanna take you on a date, wanna make you happy in every way I can, in every way possible ‘cause you deserve nothin’ less.” He paused, drawing in a deep breath before his eyes met yours. “Will you let me do that? Will you let me make you my girl?” He asked softly, watching as you smiled, shyly nodding, a little taken aback by his sweet words.
“I’d love that, Coco.” You said, almost in a whisper, but Coco met you with a bright grin before he leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to your cheek.
“Mi estrellita.” He whispered, pulling you against his chest and holding you close, embracing you gently, his heart fluttering, feeling on top of the world, because Coco got his girl.
He found the one.
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Mayans/SOA Taglist (OPEN):
@everyhowlmarksthedead​ @woahitslucyylu​ @trulysuccubus​ @iambabyharry​ @starrynite7114​ @ifoundmyhappythought @peaches007​ @angelreyesgirl​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @plentyoffandoms​ @lovebennycolon​ @chibsytelford​ @mayans-sauce​
Permanent Taglist (OPEN):
@scuzmunkie​ @megantje123​ @sideeffectsofyou​ @loving-life-my-way​ @searching-for-neverland​ @kitkatd7​ @psychiccreationtaco​ @damienwitcher​ @thesewaywardskies​ @abbiesthings​ @marquelapage​ @noz4a2​ @queenbeered​
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Business AU - Working Late, Part 4
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3
Flirt mode  A C T I V A T E D 👏
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As everyone else in the room was getting ready to depart for the day - chatting here and there and gathering their belongings - Vee was mostly occupied by her handbag, making sure everything was there before she would leave the place. She did not hear when someone approached her, but she next felt the poke of an object to her right shoulder.
“I didn’t want to make you feel bad earlier,” started Donatello’s voice. “But I truly do think we’re connected somehow now.”
She looked at him, first noticing that he had been poking her with a cardboard file folder, and then she took a good look at his clothes. Purple. AT LEAST not the same shade. He was wearing a fitting v-neck sweater of a dark purple color, with a white shirt  and a black tie underneath, his looks completed with dark charcoal pants and black shoes.
“... You’ve got to be kidding me,” started Vee with a stifled laugh. “Why are we like this?”
“I’m not superstitious, but maybe it’s destiny. We were meant to work together,” he winked. “Great minds think alike!”
Vee couldn’t hide her smile, next prompting him to get on the move for their dinner. She first expected them to walk out of the building and head to a subway station, but she was surprised to see the turtle head towards the indoor parking lot of the building.
“Wait, you want us to go by car?” she asked, her heels clacking rapidly on the tiled floor as she caught up to him.
“Why not? It’ll be quieter that way! I don’t feel like dealing with crowds in the subway anyway.”
She had to give him that, at least. A car would smell better than a subway train... As they made their way through the lot, she noticed Donnie getting out keys, the woman commenting:
“Huh, I thought you’d have a chauffeur or something like that.”
“Why, because I’m rich?” asked the mutant, amused. “I like driving, so I don’t see why I would leave all that fun to someone else.”
He pressed a button on a small remote attached to a key, which prompted a black SUV nearby to flash its light.
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Vee was most certainly impressed by his taste, first observing the vehicle until she noticed the other opening the passenger door for her.
“The lady may take her seat.”
As she took place, her eyes scanned the interior.
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The major difference she could notice from any other cars was how the driver seat was rearranged a bit further back, allowing space for the mutant’s shell most probably. As Donnie took place next, Vee couldn’t help her question:
“Is this car completely custom made?”
The other smirked: “If it was, it’d be way cooler. ... Nah for this I only had a Genesis GV80 model slightly modified to accomodate my form. I like the look of it and I don’t need something too extravagant to go around on the streets.”
“ ‘Don’t need something too extravagant’,” quoted the woman. “You do realize that you have an expensive car?”
“Remind me to show you my brother Mikey’s cars,” added Donnie, then starting the car’s ignition. “Then we can talk back about what’s expensive.”
As soon as the vehicle was brought to life, music was heard, being none other than Dio’s “Better In The Dark” track. The turtle rapidly fumbled to turn it down, his eyes widening.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for that,” he said once silence was back.
“... Are you kidding? You shouldn’t apologize for listening to Dio!” reassured Vee. “That guy frickin’ rocks!”
The terrapin smirked: “Ah, a woman of good taste! You keep on getting better and better.”
Vee couldn’t help her smile in return, the pair then finally getting on the move.
***
Donnie had to park his SUV on a quiet street, the duo next walking towards their destination; New York’s Little Italy. The evening was already laying its shadows in the sky, but the streets were bright and colorful, the warmth in the air of the incoming summer days an absolute delight. A light conversation was held as they were walking, until Vee was abruptly stopped by almost falling due to one of her heels stumbling into a small crack in the sidewalk. She was first surprised by how fast Donnie had been to catching her, a small laugh escaping her. To feel his touch around her, his strength, all she could hear was her heart drumming in her ears. They continued their path, Vee’s arm hooked to Donatello’s. It simply felt like a dream at that point...
They finally arrived to the place; a small rustic looking restaurant that had been hiding from the bigger crowd’s broad sight. There were few patrons inside, the ambiance calm and somehow giving a “feels like home” kind of vibe. Donnie seemed to know the place well, only quickly waving to the staff and already going for a table. It was a nice little corner with a table large enough so they could lay down their paperwork. Being a complete gentleman, the mutant was quick to draw a chair for Vee to sit on, waiting until she was seated properly before settling down across the table. A waiter was already at their disposition, Donnie already asking for a bottle of white wine, interjecting some Italian words in the bunch and ending with a “grazie mille”, to Vee’s surprise.
“You speak Italian?” she asked as the waiter was walking away.
“Non molti, ma un po' sì (Not a lot, but a little bit yes),” he answered. “Still learning, but I’m getting there.”
“Do you know any other languages?”
“I’ve tried to start learning Japanese alongside my brother Leonardo, but I’m not as proficient as him so far. I’ve also started French.”
Vee couldn’t help herself: “Donc, si je parle dans ma langue maternelle, tu devrais comprendre? (So, if I speak in my native tongue, you should understand?)”
Donnie froze for a moment, soon ruminating the words and showing a smile.
“Un peu (a bit),” he said. “But I feel like I need to practice a little more.” He did not skip a beat when adding: “I don’t know why, but I think a French Canadian’s accent sounds way more interesting than metropolitan French. There’s a certain flair to it, I can’t really explain...”
Vee was most certainly amused: “Try going into any rural parts of Québec, then you’ll feel like you’re speaking to aliens or something. Our French is unique, sometimes butchered, but it is nice indeed.” She did a small shrug. “I could help you practice, if you want.”
Their wine arrived, their glasses filled and the bottle left at their table. Donnie took his glass, pensively rolling the drink in his hand.
“You keep on giving, miss Vee, and I’ll soon feel cheap. First you’re helping me for the Lowline, now you’re proposing to help me with my French. ... My oh my, mademoiselle, I’ll have a debt to repay once again.”
“Let’s start by actually getting something for dinner,” added the woman, lifting the menu to her face in order to hide her blush. “It’ll give me time to think about if I need your help with something. What’s good in here?”
It was so hard to act casual...
“Their pastas are the best, but I’ll have to say that their tiramisu is to die for - I’m definitely grabbing one of those at the end.”
As the evening went along, Vee was finally starting to feel more at ease. The food was delicious, the wine delectable, and the company absolutely charming. They took some time to review the folder Donnie had brought along, talking about the project’s restrictions and demands. It was simple enough thus far, some ideas already boiling in the woman’s mind. Maybe the wine was kicking in, but she didn’t even flinch when her hand brushed the turtle’s over some papers. Her body language was screaming interest, lightly hunched over the table, actively listening to him and her smile tender. She couldn’t quite explain this attraction she felt. All she knew was that Donnie had this aura surrounding him; a welcoming and calm presence that made her feel safe and relaxed. His humor was subtle and his additions to a conversation well-placed. He was a man of many words and of a vast knowledge, although gladly giving the spotlight to any soul speaking, always listening with great interest. Vee could only admit that she wanted to learn more about him.
***
The dinner over, the pair headed back to the SUV, Donnie at least insisting that he could drop Vee to her place. How could she say no to a sweet smile such as his, anyway? The address handed, the ride went on smoothly in a comfortable silence, the woman glancing at the many lights outside - not even noticing that the terrapin would sometimes glance her way and feel this lovesick knot in his chest...
As he parked nearby her apartment building, he did not hesitate to get out as well, at least considering it good etiquette to escort her to the entrance.
“I hope I didn’t make it harder for you by cramming all that information in your face?” he said as they were talking, arms hooked again.
Vee shook her head, amused: “Absolutely not. It has given me ideas, in fact.”
“Good, good.”
As they stopped by the main door, they paused, their hooked arms transitioning into a longing, yet subtle touch of their hands. Vee finally moved her hand away, her blush faint as she removed a small strand of hair from her face.
“... This was nice, thank you,” she said. “Not the habitual work meetup I’m used to, but this was good for a change.”
Donnie quickly cleared his throat, retrieving his thoughts.
“Of course! It was quite pleasant, indeed. ... It’s not often that I get such enjoyable company.”
“You’re sweet, thank you.”
There it was, that silence as they both crossed gaze. That moment of unspeakable words and uncertain actions... The mutant sweetly smiled, breaking that moment.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at work. ... Goodnight, Vee.”
“Goodnight, Donnie.” She felt like she could breathe again...
Yet, as she saw the other walk away, she added:
“Donnie!”
He turned back.
“I think I know how you can repay me for the French lessons,” she continued. “... How about another evening together? Not work related this time.”
Joy lightened up the turtle’s features, definitely agreeing: “Absolutely!”
And just like that, the night felt even better.
((Part 5))
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movedyourchair505 · 4 years
Text
Non Mio (Napule Nights)
Had this idea with Elana ages ago, Alex telling Jade about how he stole somebody’s girl back in the day. Smut warning.
chapter navigation / playlist
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His hand was resting on her thigh, steady, spread out, squeezing every now and then when he shifted, the heat of his palm a constant against her skin, and as much as Jade tried to focus on the back and forth between Alexander and the man sat opposite them on the other side of the table, it also hadn't escaped her that he was more smug than she was used to during meetings, a dark chuckle escaping him unsolicited, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly with amusement as if there were something he knew that no one else did, and while he did not seldom exude this vibe, she'd noticed it to a different level, anticipated a beneficial outcome of the meeting for him as much as its conclusion.
She didn't miss a word, nor an exchange of glances, had noticed too how the other man's gaze had lingered on her in a way that she knew would only fuel Alexander's possessiveness, as well as hostility towards him, and she was relieved when finally, he closed the deal with a quick handshake.
“Pleasure doin' business wif yeh,” Alexander drawled. “Feel free teh stick 'round 'n 'ave a drink. 's on meh,” he declared.
The man raised his eyebrows, nodding slowly, oblivious to the exaggerated politeness he was being offered, as Jade could tell more so than ever that none of it was genuine, and that her husband had absolutely no respect for the other man. “Very kind,” he said. “But my girl's waiting for me.”
Alexander's eyes widened, his gaze following the man towards the bar once Helders opened the door for them to exit the small room. “Oh,” he said with a small chuckle. “Reyht.” Followed by his security, he steered Jade to approach the bar with his business partner, his hand on the small of her back possessively. “I remember 'er.”
“Oh, you do?” the other man asked. “Right. Right, she came to a meeting with me a while ago.”
The brunette looked up when she noticed them approaching, looking from the man that kissed her cheek for a greeting to Alexander. “Mr Turner.”
“Alreyht, luv?” Alex drawled, giving a pointed nod. “Nice teh see yeh again.” He licked his lips. “Didn't realise yous was still an item.” A small smile spread across his face. “Luvleh.”
Jade watched him from the side, now convinced she was missing something, and eager for the couple to leave so she could investigate her suspicions, so she took it upon herself to dismiss them. “It was a pleasure,” she said, holding her hand out, which the other man took and shook briefly.
“And you, Mrs Turner,” he said.
She smiled, had in the last couple of months not grown tired of hearing her name said back to her out loud, nor reading it on countless documents. She gave a nod to the woman, waited for Alexander to give a dismissive nod to both of them before they turned and walked towards the exit, Cook following until they reached the doors.
Before she could speak, Alexander was facing the bar, had ordered two more drinks. “Cigarette, pupa?”
She reached to draw the thin gold case from the top pocket of his suit jacket, placed one between his lips as he parted them. “Alexander,” she said, watching them flame dance steadily for a moment, then lighting his cigarette for him, watching him take a slow drag as he trapped it between his fingers. “What was that?”
He tilted his head to the side, shifting to sit back on one of the stools. “Wha'?” he asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly as he regarded her with his now full attention.
“You know what,” she said, taking a drag as he held out his cigarette to her. “What's the story with that loser?”
He chuckled. “Fookin' joke, weren't 'e?” He took another drag, blowing the smoke away from her. “I mean, I done business wif 'im before, and 'e 'ad 'is bird wif 'im. Tha' bird tha' were joost wif 'im. Were a mess of a meetin' then. Pissed meh reyht off.”
“And you kept doing business with him? Why was he here today?” she asked, her brows furrowed and she reached for her glass as the bartender placed their drinks in front of them. “Grazie.”
“Might've gotten sum compensation,” he shrugged, pursing his lips.
She watched him slick back his hair, instantly missing his touch. “Compensation?” she questioned skeptically.
A smile played around his lips again, conceited, and he took another drag from his cigarette, followed by a sip from his whisky. “Yeh. I asked 'er if she wanted t'stay for a drink. Fook knows why 'e let 'er. Maybe 'e thought it would 'elp business.”
“And it did. We just had a meeting with him,” she stated.
“Per'aps. It were more me own personal fun though. Got a bit of satisfaction. I mean, sheh were luvleh. Yeh saw 'er. Pretteh fing.”
She was wearing a dress that didn't leave much up to imagination and Alexander hadn't been able to keep his eyes off her, hadn't tried to, she looked exquisite, and definitely too good for the man she was sat with. He cleared his throat as the man turned to leave, beating him to speaking. “Would yeh like teh stay for a glass of the whiskeh I joost 'ad brought in?” He directed his gaze onto the pretty brunette clad in leather. “Bella.”
Her eyes widened. “Mr Turner...” She looked over at the man by her side.
Alexander hadn't quite expected success with his offer, knew that if the man knew anything about him, about his reputation, he'd take his girl straight home, but there was hope, a challenge, and he was bored, wanted to rise to it, had felt disrespected despite the man's low status, and he did not want to leave the encounter the way it had been. He'd won in business, he wanted to win personally. “Yes, luv?”
“I... well...” She glanced back between the two, biting her lip when the man that had brought her gave a hint of a nod.
“You have a drink. I'll wait for you at my place. Turner gets the best liquor.”
A small smile spread across Alexander's lips. He'd hoped the man would believe the only thing he could offer to his advantage, that it would help business if he used his girl as bait. He just had no way of knowing what Alexander had in mind, nor did he know much about his nature. And that simply fuelled his satisfaction.
“Alexander...” Jade shook her head. “You could've just not done business with him.”
“It were a good deal, even if it were below me standards,” he shrugged. “And it were fun, I tell yeh. Sheh were great companeh tha' night... and the fact that 'e dun't know after all this time... fookin'ell...”
She slowly began to comprehend his complacency throughout the meeting they'd just been in. “I think maybe their thing is just quite open...”
“Wha'? For this long?” he asked, shaking his head. “Nah, not wif 'im. There ain't no good reason why she'd beh wif tha' clown still.”
Jade pressed her lips together, nodding slowly.
“Yeh ain't jealous, are yeh, doll?” He reached to cup the side of her face, angling her head towards him until their eyes met, his thumb pressing into her skin just below her chin for control.
“It was years ago,” she stated, pursing her lips. “And you're just getting off on your power high.”
“D'yeh not fink the fact tha' 'e dun't know is... amusin'?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I suppose so,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I mean, it's not like I'm surprised you succeeded, Alexander...”
He tilted his head to the side, watching her take a sip of the drink he'd had poured for her. “So,” he hummed. “'ow's yehr man treat yeh?”
She swallowed. “Well...”
“I mean...” He held his hand up to elaborate. “All I'm sayin' is... yeh can do better...” He took a sip of his own. “Stunnin' girl like yeh...” He'd watched her shift closer to him, tucked her hair behind her ear, his thumb dragging slightly over her cheek for a moment. “If yeh ain't comfortable 'ere... yeh could come back wif meh to me place. Been told the view from me apartment's stunnin'.”
Jade shook her head. “You're impossible,” she said.
“I fink I were fair,” he shrugged innocently, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray, then snapping for one of the girls that walked past and gesturing towards one of the rooms. “Get tha' readeh for us, yeh?”
“She couldn't help herself...” she said, eyeing him closely, the way his lip stretched as he spoke demandingly, how his eyes softened slightly once they were back on her. The top buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned as usual, offered a view of his sun-kissed chest and chain that matched his rings, his tattoos on display too. He'd just gotten his hair trimmed that morning, the sharp edges of his face accentuated, especially in the flattering low lights of the bar.
“'s gettin' yeh, eh?” he teased, a dark chuckle following.
“Alexander,” she huffed. “You are too full of yourself.” She had no doubts about his power, not now and not then, though wondered how far he'd taken it, why exactly he'd been so amused, and she couldn't suppress her curiosity as he nodded for her to finish her drink, then led her to the room he'd requested, the one they usually got when he didn't feel like being watched by everyone, didn't want everyone to watch her, and she was eased when the heat of his palm met her lower back again. “Did she fall for it? The view?”
“The view at me old place were stunnin',” he muttered. “Dun't quite compare to now, but...” He tilted his head. “I weren't lyin'. Birds loved it.” He led her inside, sat back in the cushions of the large sofa instantly, his arm stretched out over the back, his knees pushed apart. “C'mere.”
She lowered herself onto his thigh, his hand instantly on her hip to keep her there, and she looked at him, waited impatiently.
“I bet yeh're wearin' summat luvleh under tha' dress, darlin'.” He pressed his lips together as he watched her stood by the window, taking in the view of the city. “I mean, I kno'... not intended for meh, but... I gotta say... I do like fings tha' aren't s'posed t'be mine.”
The more time passed and the more he saw of her, the less he could suppress his lust, fuelled by the greed of not letting the other man getting away with securing a deal that he didn't deserve. Alexander had worked hard, and he knew he deserved more, that the deal was below him and the standard he'd acquired. “'e buy yeh nice fings?”
“Sometimes,” she said, nodding slowly, taking another sip from her drink, her eyes now on him. “He used to more...”
He hummed, nodded understandingly. “Rehyt. Anehfin' else yeh wish 'e did?” he asked, stepping closer to her. “Yeh can tell meh,” he added. “Joost between you 'n meh.”
She shifted into his palm despite the surprise of his touch on her hip, met his eyes, had evidently fallen victim to his charm that she'd been warned about, her fingers clutching on to the cool glass in her hand when he drew his other hand from his pocket and he was right there, her knees weakening further from the look in his dark eyes, and then he was forcing her lips apart with his, his intensity irresistible, and she found her body arching into his beyond her control, his hand sprawled out and pushing against her lower back.
Jade swallowed, watched his mouth caress the words as he spoke, his top lip stretching.
“Sheh needed it,” he declared. “Clearleh.” He pushed his tongue into his cheek, lifting his gaze to her. “Yeh want meh teh continue?”
She nodded, reluctantly, torn between not wanting to give him the satisfaction and admiring his unconditional power.
“Yeh make meh feel good then, eh?” he hummed, nodding downward. “C'mon,” he added, shifting backwards and sighing contentedly as she undid his belt buckle without another word, obeyed instantly and started stroking him once she'd freed him from the restriction of his shiny pinstriped suit trousers.
“Mm...” He hummed with satisfaction as he drew back. “Luvleh...”
Her eyes widened, her hand coming down flat on his chest, but he spoke first when she parted her lips to.
“Dun't worreh,” he drawled. “'s our secret, doll.” A deep sense of reassurance filled him when she leaned in for more and he was only too happy to comply, angling her head to kiss her harder, keep her where he wanted, chuckling when she drew away for breath sooner than he'd have liked. “Yeh sure this is wha' yeh want?” he hummed.
She swallowed, though nodded instantly, completely drawn in by his manner of absolute control and unshakeable confidence.
“Yeh stay 'ere, doll, 'n I'll... take vereh good care of yeh.” He let his hand wander lower, closing over her ass and ready to push up her dress. “Might beh a lot, but... I promise I am vereh nice.”
“I want to stay,” she stated confidently. “Mr Turner.”
He hummed, a flick of his wrist and her dress was pushed up around her waist, in no time he had her pinned to the window, stood behind her with complete control. “D'yeh need a safeword, luv?” he asked, his lips brushing against the side of her neck.
“N-Not usually,” she whispered, felt his hand coming over her mouth the moment she'd spoken the words, the other dragging her thong to the side.
He reveled in the way her breath hitched in her throat, her voice shaky. “Are yeh usualleh this wet?” He chuckled as she instantly bucked into his touch, rolled her hips back so his fingers instantly sank deeper inside her with a soft gasp that made the glass fog. “D'yeh like the view?”
She tightened around his fingers instantly, had him humming, seemingly pleased. “Good girl,” he drawled, pushing his fingers into her mouth. “Relax into meh.” Her lips sucked around his fingers instantly when he started fingering her simultaneously, her body compliant. “Mmm, yeh, tha's it, sweet'eart, joost give in...” he hummed. “Tha's me favourite.”
He could feel her giving in further with each push of his fingers, appreciative of the way she sucked obediently on his fingers while she took what he gave her, the promise of her lips soon too much to handle as she started drooling around his fingers, too tempting to not take. “D'yeh wanna taste me cock, doll?” he drawled, his breath against her neck. “'s alrehyt if yeh do.”
“Jade,” he snapped. “Enouf of tha'. On yehr knees.”
She was surprised by the sudden change in tone, the abrupt demand, but needed no telling twice, lowered herself to her knees between his legs, hardly had time to comply when his hand was already at the back of her head, fingers wound into her hair and he pushed her down on him, making her gag with how deep he pushed his cock inside her mouth, a long drawn out moan of relief leaving his lips as he threw his head back and she mewled around him, her eyes wide, watering, but she swallowed needily around him when his eyes met hers.
“Fookin'ell,” he drawled. “Yes.”
While he'd been careful before not to overstep any boundaries to achieve his goal, he was now sure he had her, could tell from the look in her eyes when he was no longer touching her and she clearly wanted him to, ready to follow his every command. “Sure yeh'll beh luvleh on yehr knees, doll,” he declared. “Yeh wanna show me?”
He watched contentedly as she knelt in front of him and he took her chin between his fingers, smiling down at her. “Keep yehr 'ead up... good girl,” he drawled. “Look like a girl tha' knows wha' sheh's doin'...”
She parted her lips, blinking up at him.
“Pretteh lips...” he hummed, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip, tilting his head to the side expectantly. “Open wider for meh.” He groaned as she sucked him into her mouth instantly. “Relax yehr throat,” he snapped, his voice trailing off into a moan when his tip hit the back of her throat. “Oh, wha' a good girl...” he hummed.
She moaned around him, tried to keep him there as he gripped on to her hair, clearly not finished yet, his undivided attention on her as she choked on him momentarily.
“Beau'iful,” he remarked. “Sooch a luvleh girl.” He hummed as he dragged her off him, licking his lips as he watched her clear her throat, her eyes shiny. “More than yeh're used teh, eh?”
Before she could catch her breath, his grip tightened again, forcing his cock down her throat and she tried her best to comply, eager for more of his praise.
“Thaa's it, sweet'eart,” he drawled as she swallowed around him again, stayed where he held her. “'ow wet's yehr cunt rehyt now, eh? Get off feelin' me cock in yehr mouf?”
He could tell she was struggling, took mercy on her and letting her catch her breath, stroking back her hair. “Vereh pretteh,” he hummed, drawn in by her swollen lips. “Would yeh like teh sit on me cock?” He tilted his head, surprised when she leaned into the touch of his hand. “Or d'yeh like teh joost beh used? Lie yeh down 'n I'll give yeh a nice fook?”
Even if she'd found her voice, she wouldn't have known what to say to him, too absorbed in his promises, everything he offered, had during the meeting gotten the impression he was all business, that the warnings of him were focused on the threat rather than the temptation of him, but she wondered now how many of his glances she'd misinterpreted, realised more and more that his mind was filthier than his manners when conducting business suggested.
“Yehr eyes lit up,” he remarked. “Like bein' pushed 'round? I could do tha', doll... yeh joost relax 'n do nofin'... joost take me cock...” He watched the excitement in her eyes. “Might beh sore 'n for a couple of days, but... promise yeh'll beh properleh fooked 'n taken care of.”
“Mr Turner...”
Jade gasped when he let her come up for air, had mostly let her suck his cock at her pace as he'd gotten lost in his story, though then refused to let her draw back, forced her down again and made her struggle so blissfully that the look in her eyes was worth it when she stared back at him. “Alexander...”
“Yehr mouf is fookin' luvleh...” he drawled. “Sooch a good girl...” He brushed his fingers through her. “Keepin' me cock wet while I tell yeh the storeh... yeh like tha', dun't yeh?”
She took his hand when he held it out for her, let him guide her into his lap. “Was she able to handle it?” she asked. “You fucked her?”
The sound of her voice had him almost losing control, as much as he enjoyed telling her the story, he really just reveled in her admiration. “Sit down on me cock, doll.”
“Alexander.” She blinked back at him, whining when his fingers closed around her throat.
“I fooked 'er,” he stated, squeezing lightly. “Overestimated 'erself though... 'ad teh stop meh at sum point... insisted teh suck me cock though, kept fankin' meh for takin' care of 'er...” As proud as he was, he was now speaking impatiently, watching her closely, an edge to his voice when his voice cut through the silence again. “On me cock. Now.”
Her grip tightened on his shoulder and she shifted her hips instantly, her head dropping down on his shoulder as his hand pushed down roughly to push her down in his lap and he filled her mercilessly, all at once and demanding to be felt, groaning loudly at the way she squeezed him in trying to adjust, her fingers digging into his shoulder. “Yesss,” he hissed. “Tha's me girl...”
“Alexander,” she whimpered breathlessly, the friction of his cock dragging against her walls too much, too blissful. “I-I... I love you.”
He stroked his hand down her back, possessively pressing down on her lower back to arch her body, to fill her deeper. “I luv yeh, Jade.”
The look in his eyes took her breath away, the depth of them, the intensity and devotion, and he pulled her in with his fingers still wrapped around her throat, capturing her lips in a deep kiss, consuming and with an overwhelming passion, the bitterness of smoke and whisky demanding to be tasted, the spice of his cologne intoxicating, the heat of his body forceful, his words slurred against her lips irresistible.
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