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grandline-fics · 9 months ago

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Hi! Hope I’m no bother but I fell upon your blog and I couldn’t help but love it. I wondered if I could have a hcs, drables, one shot, any format who arrange you, with Shanks and Mihawk (Sorry if you aren’t comfortable with those characters, pick up other if you prefer) who meet their first love after years and years of no see? I heard a lot that you will forever love your first love, so I wondered how they would reacted to meet them/her once adults and mature. They stay with their first genuine love quite a long time, 5-7 years, and broke up for no real valid reasons, just because they were young and else, they met their first love maybe at 16-17 yo. Sorry my English is awful :,)

DESCRIPTION: You’re their first love and reunite after so many years

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Mihawk, Shanks

WORDS: 2,388

A/N: Sorry I've gotten so behind on these, it's been a rough few weeks but I'll hopefully be back on track soon. Thank you for this request. I really hope you like it!

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

MIHAWK

Love wasn’t a word Mihawk considered to be heavily used in his vocabulary. Some would call him heartless and cruel but he was a realist. If anything he thought the world overused it to the point of it losing it’s depth and importance which was why he tended to rarely let it fall from his lips. Yes he had ‘lovers’ from time to time but were they ever considered someone he loved? No. None of them even came close to that. How could they when the one that had claimed his heart, the one that taught him the true meaning of the word love, was you.

Although it had been so many years, the memories he had with you were still so clear and sharp that they could have rivalled any blade. Your paths had crossed at the very beginning of his travels across the world in the hopes of training and claiming the title of the world’s greatest swordsman as his own. He had been pointed to your home by the locals after asking who the best sword fighter was, eager to add another victory to his steadily growing list. However when he appeared at your home he was a little thrown to find you tending to a small plot of farmland. Mihawk knew you were the only one living here as the locals had told him that much, so there was no confusing you were the one he was looking for. He wasn’t expecting someone who looked as young as him to be his supposed opponent. Still he was proof that age had no bearing on talent. So he challenged you.

Quickly he was thrown once more when you lifted your head from your work to fix him with a look he’d never forgotten. Your eyes were bright and silently assessing and whatever it was you saw in him made your lips quirk into an amused smirk that in his youth had made Mihawk skin prickle with an unfamiliar warmth. He could only watch as you rose with the basket of freshly pulled vegetables in your arms and firmly refused his challenge and walked towards your house. He’d never been refused before and demanded to know why, following you inside. “I don’t need to give you a reason.” Had been your cool reply before you looked over your shoulder at him. “I just don’t want to.”

“I’m not leaving until you fight me.” Mihawk had boldly declared, the intense sincerity of his words causing you to laugh. At the sound, he had originally bristled but it wouldn’t be long before he found that it was his among his favourite things in the world. True to his word, Mihawk had stayed on the island far longer than he had intended. Every day he came to your home and challenged you. Every day you refused and watched him storm away. Eventually though after your refusal you would invite him to stay; sometimes to share something to eat, or even to go on a walk, or to help you with your chores. At first he hadn’t understood why he so readily spent the time with you but then he did. He wanted to be with you more than he wanted to fight you. When he realised that, his time with you each day grew more and more until he didn’t go and stopped challenging you completely.

You loved him completely and never wanted to be apart from him, because even though you were both young you knew what you felt was real and unshakable. However you knew that it wasn’t right. He couldn’t remain on a tiny island when his ambition lay out in the large and unseen world. As much as it pained you to do so, you insisted it was time to stop things. Mihawk had to go and become the greatest swordsman and you had to stay on the island because as it stood, you were the only one that could protect the others living there. Your reputation kept many away but as Mihawk had proved, some would come looking for a fight or to cause harm to the innocent. Begrudgingly Mihawk saw the sense in your words and he left but you were never forgotten.

Now here he stood in some nowhere town on some random island, watching you talk to an elderly woman tending to a flower stand in the middle of the market square. It was you, he knew it was you. Time had aged you like the finest of wines, your beauty matured for all to see. Then you laughed and it proved what he’d already known. After all this time without you and even though any free moment he had he thought of you, to see you now and know that you were just a few feet away from his touch he couldn’t help but let his mind wonder about you beyond his fondest memories. What if you’d married? What if you didn’t remember him? What if you didn’t want to see him?

When you said goodbye to the woman and started to walk away, Mihawk found that his previous worries disappeared instantly, not wanting to risk losing this chance. Immediately he set off through the crowd in the direction you went in. Thankfully you hadn’t gotten too far and when he was close, his hand lightly touched your shoulder and took a step back when you turned suddenly to face him.

Your expression flickered from confusion to shock and then joy at the unexpected sight of your first love standing in front of you. It gave Mihawk a feeling of relief to see the smile light your face before your expression became playful. “Well? Aren’t you going to ask me?” Mihawk blinked in confusion but quickly he realised you meant a challenge and let out a small breath of amusement. Slowly he shook his head.

“No, I just don’t want to.” He answered simply, smirking when you finally stepped closer and slid your hand around his arm.

“In that case, I’m not leaving you until you do.” Mihawk chuckled and started walking down the street with you. Finally reunited with the only person he ever loved? There was no way he was going to let you go again.

SHANKS

When Shanks was young he never fully understood why Roger, Rayleigh and the other older members of the crew got so distracted and frankly stupid in his opinion when they were around ‘attractive’ people when they were visiting an island. It always went beyond just enjoying being off of the ship for a while and making friends. Curious one day as they sailed on a calm stretch of water, he turned the question to the vice-captain who laughed at the question. So Shanks pressed more. “It just doesn’t make sense. What’s so special about them that makes you all so goofy and red faced? The Marines would lower your bounty if they saw you like that, the Captain too.”

“Oh, you’ll understand when you’re older Shanks.” Rayleigh told him with another laugh and light clap on his shoulder. Still that answer wasn’t good enough for him and he stared at the older man. If he was old enough to ask the question, surely he’d be considered old enough now for an actual answer. Seeing that the issue wasn’t going to drop, Rayleigh relented just a little more and sighed. “Look Shanks, it’s a little hard to explain but it’s another way of enjoying life and our adventures. We don’t know how much time we have at sea before finding a new island so it’s best to enjoy all it has to offer. Company with attractive people who feel the same about you is another aspect of that.”

“Doesn’t it make you sad though? You never see them again. Don’t you miss them?”

“Not really. It’s not love and they know that.”

“Huh…” Shanks felt even more confused then. The older crew always had a sickly loved up expression during the encounters he’d witnessed before they disappeared with their new ��friends’ for the evening. So if it wasn’t love what was it? More to the point a new question came out of his mouth. “So what does love feel like?”

“Love? What’s with the hard questions today, lad?” The vice-captain muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean it’s different for everyone. Sometimes it’s slow, other times it’s fast and comes out of nowhere. Still I suppose at the same time, love feels similar. It’s like lightning hitting you mind, body, and soul. It’s powerful. When you’re in love and know it, it’s like nothing else matters but them. It’s like their very presence can calm and excite you all at once.” Shanks slowly nodded. He could understand that in theory but one person being the only thing he could think about seemed dangerous to him. Satisfied with the answer given, he finally let Rayleigh continue with his day.

Looking back on that conversation now that he was older, Shanks would laugh at his own naivety as lust was certainly something he knew when he hit puberty just as Rayleigh had predicted and know it a lot. Love however, he only ever experienced once. Only a year after the conversation about love, the crew had docked on an island and headed straight for a restaurant in desperate need of plenty of good food and drink. Taking a seat, Shanks sat back and waited for the usual fun to start. Given the sudden increased size of customers, the owner called for you to help out the family business and take the orders.

You made your way to Shanks’ table and took the orders. Shanks was distractedly looking at the menu and had zoned out, only snapping out of it when your hand lightly pushed the rim of his straw hat up and leant in to smile at him. “Anything catching your eye or do you need more time?”

Shanks’ lips parted as he stared blankly at you, feeling like something shot right through his body. He was frozen in place and yet he felt warm, lost completely in your eyes. It felt like an age before his mind began to work again but really it had been only a few seconds. Quickly he managed to clear his throat and picked the first thing he saw when he forced his eyes back onto the menu. At the sound of you moving onto the next table, Shanks let out a breath only to wince when Buggy’s elbow caught him in the ribs. “Jeez, what came over you?” He’d asked, finding his friend and rival’s reaction to you funny but at the same time it was concerning to see Shanks so out of sorts. However the others at the table smirked, knowing the signs immediately.

It seemed like luck was truly on Shanks’ side when he was told they would be staying on the island for a few months to ensure they had enough supplies and preparation done before continuing on the next stretch of the journey. That meant he got to spend more time with you which was all he wanted. Luckier still, you seemed to be as equally taken with him. It had been just as Rayleigh had described love, you were all that mattered in his waking and sleeping moments and you brought him a sense of calm he’d never felt before but at the same time just being near you made his entire being feel restless and excited.

While he fell in love first you fell in love with him just as fast. Sadly it never got to last because in what felt like a blink, he and the rest of Roger’s crew were saying goodbye to those they’d gotten to know in their time on land. You’d done your best to keep a brave face and seem cheerful for Shanks’ sake. “You can always come back and visit some day, right?” You told him with a tight smile. “You’ll have plenty of stories of your adventures to tell me when we see each other again.”

“I promise each one will be more impressive than the last. The next time you see me, I’ll be Captain of my own ship.” Shanks promised with a proud puff of his chest that made you smile through the hurt of having to say goodbye.

True to his word, Shanks did become captain of his own ship and his great adventures took him over the world, some distracting him from the promise he had every intention of keeping. However as the years passed, he’d idly considered had time only made his feelings for you seem stronger than they had been through mere nostalgia. When he did finally manage to return to your island, he had been shocked to hear that you’d left many years ago. The disappointment he’d felt at the news told him that no, it wasn’t nostalgia; his feelings for you had been real.

Another handful of years passed and one evening in a tavern, Shanks and his crew talked and laughed as drink and food flowed freely. As Shanks drained the drink in his hand he faintly heard the sound of the chair beside him being taken. At first he thought it was Benn or Yasopp but when he glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw you there, his entire body locked. Choking on his drink, Shanks felt the painful burn in his throat as he forced his drink down instead of coughing it up. Wheezing he slammed his hand against his chest and could feel his heart beating rapidly and he knew it wasn’t because he nearly drowned on his drink. “Y-you!” He managed out, finally able to look at you, the same feeling he’d had in his youth crashing into him hard. “Wow.”

“Wow yourself.” You grinned, taking in the sight of how much the boy you’d fallen in love with had changed yet still felt the same. “So, got any stories for me, Captain?” Shanks laughed and turned properly in his seat to fix you with his full attention, his eyes set firmly on your face.

“I’ve got a lifetime of stories for you, just as promised.”

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere.”

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fic #one piece scenario #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x you #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk x reader #shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks one piece #red hair shanks #red haired shanks

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imagineredwood · 6 months ago

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Daddy Yandere Chibs with A? Number 3?

I have a HUNGER for Daddy!!!

Summary: Chibs has honored your foolish wishes for a separation for the last month, but you still haven't come to your senses yet, so it's time for Daddy to bring you back home; by any means necessary.

Warnings: ...it's a yandere drabble 🧍🏻‍♀️ So stalking, manipulation, what could be perceived as emotional abuse because of the manipulation. As always, these are just for fun, not to be taken as a healthy or safe relationship. No means no and turning up at someone's work when they don't want you to or anywhere they're at for that matter is creepy af in real life!! Also daddy kink. I wrote it with somewhat of a big age gap in mind but it doesn't have to be read like that 💕

Also just as a reminder, since dark content isn’t for everyone, I don’t use the regular tag lists for these, only specific taglist for those who want to read the darker content. I wouldn’t want to expose someone that didn’t want to read it. So if you DO want to be tagged, let me know

"You shouldn't be here. This is my workplace. I don't have time for this."

Chibs didn't flinch as you rejected him, his stance relaxed as he leaned against the wall of your breakroom. He'd been dying to see you. He'd given you the space you had asked for, knowing that of course that wasn't what you truly wanted. But he'd given it to you anyway. You would see soon enough that being apart from him wasn't actually what you wanted at all. Yet it was going on a month now, and he had decided that enough was enough.

So he'd ridden over to your job to get you back and now here you were, acting as if you were simply too busy to speak to the man who had loved and protected you these last few years.

"Oh course ya do, Lass. You're on break. You've got,"

He made a show of looking down at his watch and calculating.

"Got 24 minutes left of break, I reckon."

You swallowed dryly, realizing that he did have a point. You took your break at the same time every day. You'd used that break to talk to him on the phone most days. Of course, he would remember. So you tried a different tactic.

"How did you even get in here? It's employees only back here."

The Son nodded, eyes warm as they regarded you, a hint of playful ridicule there as well.

"I've lived in this town a long while, love. Longer than you. All I had to do was ask."

He pulled off the wall then, standing at his full height, taking each slow step one at a time.

"Everyone knows me here. Knows us. All that yellin' about me being so controlling, yet you didn't tell your work to keep me out?"

You gulped as he stalked toward you, eyes on you every second.

"Didn't put me on some kinda list? Didn't tell them that if they saw me to call the cops? None of that?"

You stared at him as your heart pounded in your chest. He wouldn't hurt you; never. But you wouldn't put it past him to somehow manipulate you and the situation into ending with you giving him another chance. All if would take is the feeling of his hands, warm and loving as they caressed you, and your resolve would fall apart. And he knew as much.

You took one more step back and bumped against the wall, the giant silver fridge blocking you on one side, and Chibs arm coming up to block the other. You whimpered, willing yourself to be strong as the scent of leather, cologne, and cigarette smoke flooded your senses. It all smelled just exactly as you remembered and you ached for him, the stone you'd fortified around your heart beginning to crumble.

"Even with all the arguments and disagreements, you know you've always been safest with me. Safe, and at home. You've proven your point. It's time for you to come home with Daddy now, yeah?"

You hesitated for a moment before your head was nodding slowly of its own volition. The Son clicked his teeth and offered you a smile then, eyes trailing down your front. He brought a ringed finger up and traced down the valley of your breasts, eyes raking over you how a lion would a gazelle. His voice was low when he spoke again.

"Twenty minutes left."

"Huh?"

The sentence threw you off, your break no longer on your mind as you looked at him.

"You've got twenty minutes left before they start looking for you, so I've got time. You look delicious. I won't stop until I've tasted every bite."

Dark fiction taglist

@whitetxilwxlf @kikijackson-blog @ben-c-group-therapy @ravennaortiz @mama-mischief

#sons of anarchy #imagines #sons of anarchy imagine #samcro #chibs telford x reader #chibs telford #dark!chibs #dark fic #Yandere!chibs #daddy!chibs

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dreamauri · 1 year ago

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♪ — 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗦 - part one charles leclerc x fem! driver! reader (angst) series summary . . . after mysteriously waking up in an era that you don't belong in, you learn that you have amnesia and that your memories from the last few years have been misplaced somewhere in a memory dump. you're challenged with living in the future in a foreign body and life, especially with a husband who used to be your enemy. forgetting truly is troublesome.

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chapter one summary . . . knock knock. wake up. welcome to the future where your life has changed too much to the point where it's practically another universe. now get up, you feel small and weak and have to do something about it. oh and he's there too, careful with that.

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"What is this-" you fussed, pulling on the wires and tunes connected to your body, ripping them off which was a mistake. You felt a sting come from the inside of your elbow, probably from the IV needle you pulled.

Looking around the unfamiliar room, you're met with white walls and medical tools and machines. A hospital is what you recognized your setting to be. But why would you be at a hospital?

"Mom?" Was the first thing you could think of doing. You called for her, stumbling out of your bed starting to feel the panic set it. "Mom?" You tried again, pushing yourself to stand on your sore muscles, pulling the door's room open.

Your ears are met with the loud beeps and busy noises of the medical center. "Code blue, room 198. Code blue." You watched as several nurses ran to foresee the issue. Taking small steps on your bare feet, you traveled away from where you first found yourself.

"Y/N!" Turning around your face with the person you were looking for. Running into her arms, you held her tightly. "I just- I woke up in that room and you weren't there and I didn't know what to do so I went out looking for you and-" "Shhhh. Hey, it's fine. It's ok. Im- . . . I'm here now."

Your mom patted you gently with the occasional back rub. "How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?" She pulled away, cupping your cheeks. You could see that she'd aged- more than the last time you saw her. Her eyes were filled with tears and the gray hairs were setting in.

"What happened to you?" You asked slowly, feeling your face scrunch. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. "Y/N!" Turning your head to face the source of noise, you're met with an unexpected surprise, one that you don't like.

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"You understand now?" You gave a small hum of acknowledgment with a hesitant nod. "Wait, what year is it?" You asked looking up at your mom and siblings who had come to visit you. "2023." The voice you desperately tried to ignore replied.

You turned to glare at the brunette boy— man. "Who invited him?" You asked, turning back to your family. Your mom sent a reassuring Glance to the apparent 'outsider'. "So I've forgotten the past . . . Six years? Was it six years." "Eight." Your brother corrected.

"You're so big. You traitors are taller than me." You huffed and annoyed leaning back in the uncomfortable bed. "I take a nap after qualifying and this happens." You sighed, rubbing your face.

"And you have boobs now apparently. You flat fuck." You scolded your sister, making her smile uncomfortably. "I don't like this. This is the body of a 23 year old." You grumbled feeling angry.

"And why are you still here?" You looked at Charles Leclerc who was sitting timidly at the other end of the room. "Honey, Charles is . . . How do I say this?" "Don't care, he can leave." You waved ignorantly, hearing a broken chuckle from the man.

"Wait, what happened to my race? Did I get a podium in the spa?" You asked, turning to your family. "Did something significant happen in the past seven years?"

"I mean yes-" "yeah" "Oh of course." The three family members replied at the same time, pursing their lips.

"Am I in F2?" You asked hopefully, holding your hands together. "F1, you drive for Ferrari." You turned back giving Charles a 'wtf' look. "Who invited him? He's not welcome here—" "Ms. Leclerc." A knock on the door interrupted. "—and family. Dinner."

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You ate in silence with the rest of your family and Leclerc.

"So we share a bed." You broke the silence looking at the Ferrari driver across from you. "We are married." He clarified. "How— why?" You asked confused, setting your fork down.

"Why would I marry you? I don't like you. You keep crashing into me. And you're an annoying prick." You huffed and frustrated. "You wouldn't have married me if you didn't love me."

"And I don't. I want a divorce. Right now." "No." You siblings gaped at you not believing your words. "You love Him! You can't divorce him!" "I'm doing it, right now." You frowned, folding your arms. "Whatever that other me- I wouldn't even consider her as me. I'm fixing those idiots mistakes."

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"Y/N!" "Verstappen has a moustache and a jawline? That's one hell of a glow up." You commented, ignoring the driver as you walked past him, even though the driver only tried to check on you with good intentions. "Why is everyone trying to be nice to me?"

"Everyone is nice to you. They like you." Your PR manager explained.

"They like her. And I don't like her." You sighed digging your hands in your pockets. "Why's everyone nice to her? What did she do to gain their favor?"

"You baked cookies every Saturday and gave them out before qualifying." "She." You corrected it. "When did she learn to bake?" You had so many questions.

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"Y/N do you believe it's a good idea for you to drive the car after such a dangerous accident?" "I've been on the Sim and Apparently my body remembers how to drive. So I'm technically good to go." You shrugged taking a sip of your brand hidden drink.

You swung your feet mindlessly as people fired questions at you. "How do you feel after your accident?" "This is all new to me. Not to any of you, but to me I feel like I'm in the future. Like I jumped in time. It feels pretty exciting really. If I am as good as I am on the Sim, I wonder what I am capable of on the real track."

You walked beside your performance coach with your hands behind your back, watching him scroll through his phone as you walked out of the conference room. "Did I do good? With the press." "You're a dynamite gal, Y/N." He chuckled, patting your back gently.

"Can we play some hockey after this? My brain is working at 500 miles per hour." You jumped up and down as you walked, feeling the excitement create more and more energy. "You don't want to sprint?" "She sprints?!"

Apparently to help with your haywire ADHD, your team had a curved treadmill at the back of the garage. One you wasted no time on using. jogging in place, you listened to your mechanics and engineers explain things to you.

You were enjoying this. Only thing that bothered you was your long hair. The way you had to readjust the ponytail and tighten your bun every few minutes bothered you. The other you must have grown it out for a long while because you usually kept it to your shoulders.

Your hair was now two inches from reaching your ass. Which was one of the things that surprised you because it was very shiny and well taken care of. You must have had a few modeling gigs in your time in formula one, the only explanation why you'd keep this hair so long.

"Wait, she speaks French?" You listened intently to the video playing. While training your reflexes, you decided to get accustomed to the other woman who lived in your body by listening to interviews, talk shows, and press conferences.

It weirded you out, hearing your own voice be so . . . different. She was much much more playful, kind and mature, romantic and loving as well when it came to her husband. Something you, a 17 year old ( psychologically ) were not. At all. Especially towards Charles, who for some reason you were still married to.

You've been told you were risky, brash, maybe a little bit funky and mischievous, very blunt. Type of weird girl who would throw paint balls at a teacher in the middle of class, or who would laugh and humiliate someone publicly.

Hearing a certain question made you break focus and end up with the three balls you were juggling falling on your head. You turned to your tablet, looking at the other you who only blushed and hid her face embarrassed.

"You guys are so invested in our relationship." You heard her giggle wiping her face. "We have thought about having children, yes. But we both agreed that we both are still too young to be responsible enough and we want to enjoy our youth to the limit."

You blinked at her disgustingly, shaking your head as you fast forwarded the video and picked up the tennis balls. "There she is. Seat and teammate thief." You saw Carlos pass by, waving to you with a bright smile on his face.

You waved back awkwardly, a thin smile pressed on your face. "There you are! I've been looking for you." Turning to the face, you're greeted with Lando. A person you remember finally.

"What the fuck is that?" You pulled a sour face gesturing to his mustache. "What? You don't like it?" He chuckled, stroking his mustache proudly. "Hell no.” You put your hands on your hips, clicking your tongue. "You're a lot older than I remember. Taller too . . . What the fuck."

"I forgot how blunt you are." He chuckled, face palming. "You're so judgmental." "I'm honest." You rolled your eyes, sighing. "Wait, were we friends through the seven years I was sleeping?" "You weren't sleeping." "Well it sure hell felt like I did. Were we friends or not?" "Yeah why?"

You looked right and left pulling Lando out of your garage to take a walk with him. "Am I and Leclerc . . . Together for real? Not just for the media 'n shit?"

". . . I had to sleep over and Daniel's one year because you two were so loud in the room next to mine." "Ew." You scrunch your face, hitting his chest. "It's true!" "—What are you two talking about?"

You jumped in surprise at the third voice, turning around to look at the imposter. As you expected, an unfamiliar face. "She doesn't believe she and Charles are actually in love." "Why are you telling my personal shit to strangers?" You seethe through gritted teeth, smacking Lando's head.

"Stranger?" The boy put his hand over his heart, faking hurt. You only looked at him with an unimpressed face. "Wow, old Y/N is brutal." You blinked, putting your hands in your pockets tilting your head, waiting.

"Alex Albon, of Williams." He put his hand out, bowing dramatically. "Y/N L/N. Of Ferrari." You shook his hand with a small smile, courtesy slightly. He was cute, you liked the accent as well. "Leclerc. Y/N Leclerc." Lando reminded you, making you cringe.

"Oh don't remind me." You huffed folding your arms. "What did I miss?" You looked at him for a moment with unsure eyes. "We were best friends." He explained quickly. "She wants a divorce." Lando put his hands on his hips frowning.

"No." Alex gaped, putting his hands over his mouth, eyes wide. Scorching hot tea. You scoffed rolling your eyes. "What's so good about him?" You shrugged, scrunching your face at the thought of being with your apparent teammate.

"You. You're so good about him." "I mean . . . The last thing she remembers about him was that fight in Singapore." Lando reasoned with a pout. "But you love him." Alex whined holding his hands together. "You can't not be together." He pleaded.

"Not anymore."

Charles listened from afar, feeling his heart clench. He felt pain. Pain. Your words hurt like tons of knives and bullets. He ran his shaky hand over his face. If you divorced him before you got your memories back, it would be over for him. He can’t lose you.

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You felt your heart race as you sat in your car for the first time this weekend. "My lungs are going to explode." You squealed to your head mechanic. "That's one way to describe excitement." He chuckled, making you test out the functions of a few buttons and the brakes.

"Is the steering wheel too wide?" You heard him call over the noise making you shake your head. "Is the seat comfortable?" "Yep!" You nodded, smiling. "Alright, you can stay inside if you want. I'll shut off the engine." You already knew your favorite and number one mechanic.

"How are you feeling?" Looking up, your smile fell upon seeing your teammate . . . And husband. Gosh you were not used to that word. Husband. You've never even thought about getting married, or even having sex for that matter.

"Leclerc." You huffed a greeting. "You're a Leclerc too." He reminded you crouching down and holding out a cup for you to take. You peered at the liquid, trying to figure out what it was. Whatever it was, it smelled amazing.

"Is it poisoned?" You questioned taking it and bringing it closer to your nose. "No! Why would he even think that?!" You looked him up and down suspiciously before taking a sip. You must have been married for a long time if he knew something about you you yourself didn't know about yourself. You liked mocha latte.

"Is that all?" You asked looking up at him. "You did your hair wrong." He held up the claw clip. You narrowed your eyes, staring at him for a second before holding your hand out to take it from him. He chuckled lightly, placing it in your palm.

He knew how this would end. He watched as you struggled with your hair, huffing and cussing at it every few seconds. He laughed to himself before finally coming to your aid. "Hey- excuse me. I did not give you . . . Permission?" You frowned to yourself confused, no longer feeling bothered by the blond locks as his weirdly gentle hands brushed through them and pinned them up in a nice neat and elegant bun. “There you go.”

It felt . . . Secure. "I'm not going to thank you." You said out of spite, turning away and sipping from your drink. Charles sighed, sitting down on the floor, leaning his back to your car. “Amour, give me a chance. Please?” He asked after a moment of silence. “Don’t you like brunettes?” You scoffed rolling your eyes. “I love you.” You rolled your eyes again, pulling your hood over your head as you caught some sleep. “I really do love you.” Charles whispered to himself, hugging his knees catching some sleep too.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Are you going to keep playing that?" Charles turned to you as he searched through the music papers. Your family had insisted that you stayed at your house in Monaco for the Monaco gp weekend, which was fantastic because your husband lived with you. "Do you want me to stop?"

"If you impress me. I'll give you a kiss or whatever wives do." Charles knew this was a trap. old you would never do that. He took a deep breath in and started to play anyways, a song you always asked him to play for you.

You leaned against the door frame, never remembering that he played the piano. You listened, yawning every now and then even though you actually were impressed. Once he lifted his finger off the last note, he hesitantly turned towards you, waiting for an answer even though he knew you liked it.

Your azure eyes met his own forest ones. You laughed at him before pushing yourself off the wall and walking away.

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shixcherie · 28 days ago

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Sweet Like A Cherry| Kim Hongjoong ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

☆☆ NOTE : I want to take a moment to apologize for any confusion caused by the overlapping scenes in my fic with @ja3hwa's dilf series. It was never my intention to cause any misunderstandings or plagerise her beautiful works. She has been a huge inspiration to me, and having read her fics in the past, I realize that some ideas may have stuck in my mind while writing this one.

I've worked hard to change those scenes completely and take the story in a more mysterious and mafia direction, which I had initially planned.

Also, a big thank you to @whatudowhennooneseesyou for helping me recognize the similarities and pointing me in the right direction. I truly appreciate it.

I hope you can overlook this minor mistake and continue to support me as I move forward. Your love for my work means the world to me!

Thank you and sorry again @ja3hwa

☆ Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 11 : Age Gap, Dilf

↬ [ Synopsis ] : A birthday fling with Hongjoong takes a shocking turn when you realize he's your dad's best friend and he's hiding some dangerous secrets. Now, trapped on a family yacht, your growing desire for him becomes impossible to resist, unaware that someone has been watching both of you closely.

☆ Word Count : 2.4k ☆ Genre : Smut. Some Plot. ☆ Pairing : Dilf!Hongjoong x F.Reader [ Park Y/N, Seonghwa’s daughter ]

☆ ☆ ☆ WARNINGS : Dad’s best freind Joong. Joong is on the run from someone. Stalker-ish, someone is watching you both closely. Mutual Masturbation, but reader is unaware of him watching her. Cum play.Mentions of alcohol.Nipple play.Dirty thoughts and fantasies. Pet names (honey, baby). Sir kink. Hongjoong is in his late 30s and he is nasty while reader is only 23 (Oopsie, but enjoy). Mildly Noncon (no permissions were asked).

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

“Cheers to 23!!!” all your friends screamed as tequila shot glasses clunked together, celebrating you. You had just turned 23, and what better way to celebrate than throwing a huge party at Havana, the finest club with the best cocktails and liquor in town?

Your dad, Seonghwa, had suggested a birthday yatch trip, butyatches you can do anytime, your dad owning a big private one. You can’t celebrate your 23rd with all your friends in town just whenever, so you politely declined, asking to postpone it for another day. But there was one more reason as well.

Your friend group has a tradition, kinda stupid, but spicy. The birthday girl has three tasks for the evening:

First, drink the Havana exclusive, El Fuego del Caribe, a signature cocktail known for its fiery blend of rum, chili-infused tequila, and a splash of tropical juices.

Second, engage a stranger in conversation and buy them a drink.

Third, get a picture clicked while having some kind of fun together, the kind of fun you can decide.

Being the least experienced with relationships in the friend group, this turned out to be a daunting task for you, especially the third one.

Anyhow, this birthday girl pulled them all off.

The intense yet exciting task list started with you approaching the bartender, plopping yourself at the bar, and winking at him. That’s how you ask for Havana’s exclusive, and when he winks back, consider your order taken. That was easy, first task, done!.You downed the drink at once, your friends watching from their table. The alcohol burned your throat as it went down, sweet and spicy with a sour aftertaste.

Now, time to catch a stranger for a fun night. As your eyes wandered around the club, checking out some sexy guys, you spotted this man eyeing you from the other end of the bar. You threw him an alluring smile as you studied him. He looked to be in his late 30s, well-built, with a left brow slit, tattooed arms, and to seal the deal, a very inviting devilish smirk. An overall yummy demeanor.

Let’s go with him.

He came and sat down next to you, and a very engaging, flirty conversation swooned you both into a small bubble of your own. You learned his name was Hongjoong, and that he had just come back into town after almost a decade in the States.

Hongjoong was captivated by you the moment he took a sip of the drink you bought him. Your charm, the way you carried the conversation, and just how beautiful you were, it all aligned perfectly with what he desired in a woman.

After hours of talking and throwing back shot after shot, things were a bit hazy for him, but one thing was crystal clear: he was hooked. He flirted shamelessly, and you only encouraged it, turning playful teasing into something more when you grabbed his arm and led him to the private room, ready to check off the last item on your list.

Ahhh… the fun you both had.

—

Waking up with a throbbing headache, you vaguely remembered being dropped off at home by your friends, Hongjoong’s face flashing across your mind as a smile crept up.

He was perfect. But there was a teeny tiny problem, you couldn’t remember what exactly you both did, or if you actually took the picture.

Feeling a little sad that you might not see him again, you walked into the living room where breakfast was being served, only to see a familiar face. Hongjoong, sitting right there with your dad in the living room, deeply engrossed in conversation.

Why is he here? Did I drag him back home? Why are he and Dad talking like they're best friends?

As you nervously approached them, their eyes landed on you. Hongjoong’s face paled, the blood rushing from his face as his eyes widened, mirroring your nervous expression. He recovered himself quickly.

“Ahh, Y/n! You’re up. Hongjoong, meet my daughter. Y/N, this is my best friend Hongjoong, he's finally back from the States after almost a decade,” Seonghwa introduced, oblivious to the fact that you two had already met.

“Hello, Y/n.” Hongjoong said, his voice firm, almost neutral, but with a tiny smirk on his lips as he extended his hand for you to shake.

“Hi, nice to meet you...umm...” you took his hand, unsure of what to call him.

“You can call me Hongjoong.” he assured you, his grip firm, sending jolts of electricity through your body. Pulling your hand back slightly, you went to sit at the breakfast table, sneaking glances at Hongjoong from time to time, his gaze reciprocating with equal... intensity?

Wow... I slept with Dad's best friend? Why the hell can’t I remember what we did last night?

“Y/n, about the yatch trip. Why not turn it into a little get-together?” Seonghwa asked, to which you slightly nodded. “Hongjoong, you should join us too. My princess is 23 now, and you're back after so long. We should catch up with all the boys, and you need to meet their kids as well.” he announced excitedly.

Damn. This is going to be the end of me. The thought crossed both your and Hongjoong’s minds.

—

The yacht was big enough to fit everyone who showed up, which was a relief. There were plenty of activities and services, so the trip seemed like it would be fun. Luckily, even with the crowd, you managed to get a room for yourself. After the chaos of your birthday night, some alone time was exactly what you needed. Now, settled in one of the small but cozy rooms at the back of the yacht, you finally had the privacy you wanted.

The only problem? It was right next to Hongjoong’s.

Night fell, and everyone retired to their rooms. Hongjoong stood on the deck, the memories of that night still fresh in his mind as he glanced at the photo you had taken on his phone during the heat of the moment. When he met Seonghwa the next day, he had no clue you were his daughter, he didn’t even know Seonghwa had a daughter, let alone a beautiful twenty-three-year-old one.

But what will they do about this? Will they try to harm you for being associated with him? Are they here, watching him and you?

~ your birthday night ~

The music was in sync with your heartbeat as your eyes locked with Hongjoong, his devilish smirk igniting desire and not helping with the wetness building down south. Leaning in close, your breath hot against his ear, you whispered, "Let's go somewhere private."

Making your way through the sweaty mush of drunk people on the dance floor, you led him to a secluded room. The door clicked shut as you turned to him, slowly unbuttoning your top, letting the fabric fall from your shoulders. This was your kind of fun.

Hongjoong’s gaze darkened as you grabbed his drink, took a sip, and spilled it down your chest. The liquid covered your skin, trailing down your boobs, giving them a glistening look that made Hongjoong’s mouth water.

"Clean me up, sir." you teased, watching his eyes burn with desire. That “sir” in your angelic sweet voice had him down bad for you.

Without hesitation, he pulled you by the waist, your body crashing into his, sending sparks through you. He lowered his head, his tongue flicking over the trail of alcohol on your skin, his large hands busy squeezing your ass. You gasped softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he licked and sucked your nipples, and Hongjoong sucked hard, releasing the nipple with a pop sound.

"Tastes so sweet, like a cherry, baby." he said, continuing his licks.

The sensation, his words sent sparks through your body, as he was busy cleaning the remnants of liquor off. His mouth was hot, his tongue teasing, tasting you in a way that left you craving more, needing more. You gasped, tugging at his hair, the heat between you rising.

Adding to the moment, you reached for your phone, accidentally grabbing his and snapping a picture, interrupting the moment. "Oops, wrong phone," you smiled at him innocently. "Will you keep it for me, sir?" Your innocent request earned an amused smirk from him.

"Only if you promise to see me again." Hongjoong teased, smirking, the tension between you far from over and only left you both craving for more.

Was he regretting that night? No.

He definitely felt a connection, an intense one, the first time he laid eyes on you in Havana. Your playful, banter-ish conversation was a gentle push toward those unannounced feelings his heart was welcoming, and the night in that private room definitely sealed the deal.

He was more curious about what was going on in your mind.

But knowing your feelings might open a can of worms that he wasn’t ready for.

And if they found out about your associations with him... What would they do to you?

As he walked back to his tiny room, almost as if his prayers were answered, soft moans caught his ears, halting him in his tracks.

"Joong... aa... I need you," you moaned, your fingers rubbing against your dripping cunt, trying to relieve some of the ache, your back to the door. The whole evening had been tense with Hongjoong in your vicinity, and it took everything in you not to jump his bones. But...

Why has he been distant? Is he avoiding me? Does he not want this? What’s his deal?

Pushing those questions aside, you focused on the pleasure, recalling the night of your birthday. The way his tongue moved on your chest, the way he sucked your tits—it all felt so vivid. Suddenly, everything felt hotter, thick drops of sweat coating your forehead despite the air conditioning set to its coldest.

Hongjoong, watching you pleasuring yourself through the glass door of the cabin, curtains slightly pushed aside, was torn with dilemma, as he’d definitely felt someone watching him the whole evening.

Should I go in? She definitely wants this... She does feel something, right? But what if they find out?

What if they come to this town looking for me? Will Y/N’s life be in danger? Will they come after her too?

"Joong, please... touch me, sir..." you whimpered, your fingers rubbing harder against your cunt, waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your left hand squeezed your tits, the same ones Hongjoong had once covered with sweet kisses, unaware that you were being watched.

Hongjoong’s dick hardened at the mouthwatering sight, forming a tent in his pants. Shit, he needed release, and he needed it now. His hands automatically went to his clothed member, touching and rubbing, trying to soothe himself.

Checking to see if the hallway was clear, he pulled his throbbing cock out, hoping to relieve that ache, even just a tiny bit, as your moans provided music to his ears. His mind took him down the rabbit hole where his dirty fantasies lived, away from the world. Your taste still fresh in his mind, his pace quickened. The idea of bending you over and fucking deep inside, with his girthy dick exploring your insides, was something he desperately needed to happen.

He covered his mouth as dangerous groans threatened to escape his lips while his hand worked on his throbbing cock, rubbing ferociously. His eyes flicked to you—the sight of your lips between your teeth, eyes tightly shut, sweat dripping off your face—pushed him closer to the edge.

Your fingers quickened against your cunt as you rubbed harder and faster, breathless moans leaving your lips, traveling to Hongjoong outside the door, pushing him over the edge as he came hard in his hand, slick dripping down his legs. Your fast movements also pushed you off the edge as you came undone on the fluffy sheets.

Hongjoong and you both breathed deeply, trying to recover from the intense high, and just when the timing couldn’t have been worse, he heard footsteps approaching, heading toward your rooms at the back of the ship.

To save both you and himself from getting caught, he entered your room, causing you to freeze at his sudden entrance, all your actions coming to a painful stop. Your face turned cherry red. Embarrassed.

Was he watching me this whole time? Fuck! Fuck! I even called his name out loud. He definitely heard that... Fuck my life! Your mind was a mess, embarrassment taking the best of you as the older male stood in front of you, wet stains in his pants showing that he had cum.

"Y/N, stop... someone’s coming," Hongjoong said, warning you about someone approaching the back of the ship. "Pretend you’re sleeping," he added as he gently laid you on the bed, tucking you under the covers. He quickly hid behind the door, the room dark enough that no one outside would see him there.

The footsteps came to a halt in front of your door, lingered for a few moments, then walked away.

Who could be up at this time of night? Hongjoong thought to himself. Ah, probably one of the kids. He decided to check to make sure the path was clear, and to his surprise, no one was there. Hmm... was my mind playing games with me?

“All clear,” he announced as he turned towards you, hand still holding the door knob, ready to leave. He took one final glance at your sleeping figure, about to step out.

“Are you gonna leave me already, sir?” your voice dripped with innocence as you sat up on the bed, propped on your knees, looking almost like an angel fallen from heaven. A request Hongjoong so desperately wanted to fulfill but couldn’t, as his eyes flicked to the window behind you, a red cross plastered on it.

Shit! Are they here already? Is this them telling me they’re watching me?

I need to get out of here, and fast. And I need to make sure they don’t harm her, he thought to himself.

“Sorry, angel,” he said, gripping your cheeks and pecking your lips. “I can’t put your life in danger.” He lingered there for a second before backing off and leaving the room, disappearing into the darkness.

What did he mean by he can’t put my life in danger? Is someone after him? Why the fuck did he have to kiss me... if he has no intention of being with me?

What is going on, Joong? What are you hiding?

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #]hongjoong fluff #hongjoong fic #atz #atz smut #kinktober 2024 #shixcherie

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wholoveseggs · 8 months ago

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Crimson Frost {Part One}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

You are to be wed to Niklaus of the Mikaelson clan, but when tragedy strikes and blood is shed in the snowy night, the true strength of family bonds and the power of love are put to the ultimate test.

♡♡ I'm back with another series, one I've wanted to write for a long time. This series explores the lives of the Mikaelsons as ordinary individuals in the Viking era, told from the reader's perspective but also Niklaus's. ♡♡

6k words - Warnings: Viking AU where the Mikaelsons are completely human (no magic, werewolves, vampires... etc) lots of death and violence, sprinkle of norse mythology... no smut in this part, {Spoiler: it will be eventually reader x Elijah}

{Part Two} {Part Three} {Part Four} {Part Five}

"Gerda! Come help me with these flowers," you yelled from the back garden. You were gathering the best wildflowers you could find to make a wreath to wear for the feast that evening. It was still winter, but it had been mild for almost a whole moon, bringing the wildflowers early.

"Coming systir!" she replied. Gerda came out into the garden a few moments later, carrying a basket full of wildflowers and a smile on her face. "These will look so lovely in your hair tonight," she said holding up a bunch of lavender. "I'm sure Niklaus will be so happy to see you."

You blushed slightly at her words. Niklaus.

Your mother had told you that the feast tonight was to announce your marriage to the young Mikaelson. Your family was thrilled, having you marry one of the sons of the Karl increased your family's standing among the clan. However, you were still nervous. You had grown up with Niklaus, he was kind and had a sweet smile, but he was also quite wild and battle hungry. He had just returned from his first raiding voyage to the coast of the English lands, and the stories of his bravery were spreading.

“I'm sure he will, but he is not my betrothed yet," you said as you put some more flowers in your basket.

"That does not mean that he will not be soon, and you will have to kiss him eventually," Gerda replied.

"Gerda!" You threw a bunch of flowers at her. "Do not be so improper."

"Sorry systir," Gerda said laughing. "It's just exciting, you are getting married to a Mikaelson!"

"Let us hope that the gods smile on our union," you said, picking up your basket of flowers.

Gerda had only seen eleven summers yet she was eager to grow up, while you were less than eager. Your betrothal had been a long time coming and it was a good match for your family, but you didn't have the same excitement as your sister. You felt unprepared to be a wife.

You saw Niklaus coming over with his little brother Henrik and a small smile crossed your face.

You looked up at Niklaus. "Hello, Niklaus."

"My dear," Niklaus greeted, bowing his head. "You look beautiful as ever."

"Thank you," you replied.

Henrik stood beside his brother. "Nik, you promised we could spar today!"

"Henrik, patience," Niklaus said, placing a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "How about you go with Gerda, she can watch while you practice."

"Come on Gerda, let's go," Henrik said excitedly, taking her hand and pulling her over to the field.

"Your brother seems enthusiastic," you remarked.

"It's what he was born to do," Niklaus said, watching his brother and your sister run off.

"They would make a good match, your Gerda and my Henrik," he suggested.

"Oh yes, Gerda is very fond of Henrik," you agreed. "But they are both so young, it's a bit too early to make a decision such as that."

"Of course, I would not wish to rush them," Niklaus said. "Besides, you are the one I'm here for today."

You looked away, a slight blush appearing on your cheeks. He was a true charmer and had seen many battles even at his young age, the ladies in the village loved him and were always fighting over his attention. But the truth was you didn't feel anything when you looked at him. There was no spark or tingle of love the way it was described in the fables, just a friendship that you wished would turn into something more.

But it was an honor for your family, to be marrying into such a noble household. And it wasn't like he was ugly, or cruel. He was a good man and would no doubt make a fine husband.

"I think it will be an early spring, with all of these flowers in bloom," Niklaus said, reaching down and picking a blue wildflower and handing it to you.

"I do too," you replied, smiling and putting the flower in your hair.

"Nik, I thought you were sparring with me!" Henrik yelled, trying to gain the attention of his older brother

"Very well!" He responded, giving you a wink before running after his little brother, he picked up Gerda and gave her a spin, making her laugh.

You laughed at the sight and watched the three of them. Niklaus, Henrik, and Gerda. Playing around and having fun, but soon the time would come for them to grow up, and you feared what that would bring.

The sound of laughter and music filled the longhouse, you were sitting on a bench between your mother and father, enjoying the feast.

Henrik and Gerda were dancing and playing near the fire, laughing and smiling. They had been inseparable all day, both excited about the wedding to come.

Your eyes found Niklaus, sitting on the other side of the longhouse, chatting with his older brothers, Finn and Elijah.

Your engagement was to be announced tonight, in front of the whole clan, but you had already heard the news. You were going to be Niklaus' wife, and the next lady of the Mikaelson clan.

But you would be lying if you said that the thought didn't fill you with dread. You didn't feel ready to be a wife.

You saw beautiful Rebekah, Niklaus's sister, dancing with her friends. Her long blonde hair in a thick braid with ribbons and flowers. She was laughing and having a good time, while you sat alone and tried to hide how nervous you were.

She came over and took your hand. "Come dance,”

You smiled and joined her, spinning and twirling around.

"I've heard the news, congratulations," she said. "My brother is a very lucky man."

"Thank you," you replied.

Rebekah pulled you in close. "Soon you will be with child and I'll have a little niece or nephew to dote on," she said, her hand moving down to touch your belly.

You laughed, a blush spreading across your cheeks. "Yes, that is my hope."

"Well, the sooner the better," Rebekah replied. "Nik is getting antsy."

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"There has been word that the Blackthorne clan has been moving in this direction," she said. "Nik's been preparing for a battle, he says he will not let them pass our borders."

"I see," you replied. The Blackthorne clan were known to be ruthless and merciless. Their leader, a man named Einar, was notorious for his brutal raids and pillaging. It had been said that he once slaughtered an entire village just because they refused to give him one of their daughters.

"My father doesn't think they will make a move, but Niklaus is worried," Rebekah said. She gave you a searching look, "He lusts for war and glory."

You frowned, looking at her. "What if he's right? What if they attack? What will happen to us?"

"Don't worry sweet girl, you are apart of my family now, and the Mikaelsons will protect you," Rebekah promised.

As the night went on you feasted and danced with the people of the village. There was food and drink for everyone, and the mood was jovial.

You saw your father sitting next to Mikael, they were deep in conversation and your father was nodding along with whatever the elder Mikaelson was saying.

Mikael suddenly stood, raising his mug and the room fell silent.

"Tonight, we celebrate the engagement of my son Niklaus to the daughter of Erik," Mikael announced, looking over at the two of you.

"To a bright future, may they have many sons to lead us into battle and may their union bring great fortune to both families."

The clan erupted into cheers, banging on the table and lifting their mugs.

"A toast, to Niklaus and his bride!" Mikael called.

Everyone raised their mugs, cheering for the couple. Niklaus approached you and wrapped his arms around you. “It seems the gods have finally smiled upon us," he whispered.

You nodded and smiled at him, trying not to let him see the uncertainty in your eyes. He kissed your cheek and danced with you, the feast continuing on.

As the night wore on, you sat by yourself, watching the dancing and laughter. Rebekah and her friends were talking, Henrik and Gerda were still spinning around, and Niklaus was deep in conversation with Elijah.

Your parents had left, they were a bit older and didn't stay up late like the others. You wanted to leave as well, but Gerda was having so much fun, you didn't want to cut her night short.

Kol came over, sitting down beside you. "You should be out there having fun, not sulking here all alone."

"I'm not sulking," you replied.

"Yes you are," Kol said, grabbing a piece of bread from the table and stuffing it in his mouth. The two of you had grown up together, and he always knew when something was wrong.

"Well, the whole marriage thing has been weighing heavily on my mind," you confessed.

"Oh, come on, Nik's a fine warrior," Kol remarked. "My brother has always been taken with you, he will make a good husband... I think," he teased.

You laughed a bit, pushing him gently. "I know, I know, but I just wish to wait a bit longer. It seems like this has all happened so quickly."

Kol put his arm around you. "You will come to love him, and even if you don't, I am sure the bedding will be enjoyable."

"Kol, stop it!" You giggled, shoving him away.

He grinned and took another piece of bread, "You go home and rest, I'll watch Gerda."

"Are you sure?" You asked.

"Positive," he said. "You are both family now, I will protect her as if she were my own blood."

"Thank you, Kol," you replied, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I will see you tomorrow."

You made your way out of the longhouse and back towards your home, the cold night air filling your lungs, you breathed out a plume of heat into the chilly air, perhaps winter was not quite done yet. As you walked you thought about Niklaus, he had been so kind and thoughtful lately, he was a good man, you had no reason not to marry him.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of rustling in the bushes, you paused and listened. It was probably just a fox or some other woodland creature, but something didn't feel right.

Suddenly, you were knocked to the ground, a man pinning you down.

"Don't scream," he hissed.

You struggled beneath him, trying to push him off. He smelled of mead and sweat, his face was covered in dirt, his teeth rotted and bloody.

He pressed a blade to your throat, you stopped moving and let out a gasp.

"Do not fight, and I won't hurt you," the man growled.

He had black hair and was wearing a thick fur cloak, his body pressed against yours as he held you down. He pulled at your dress, ripping the fabric and exposing your skin.

"No!" You cried, struggling against him.

He moved his hand up and grabbed your face, his fingers digging into your jaw.

"You are a pretty one, will fetch a good price," he said, running his hand down your body and touching you roughly.

You heard the sound of a horn blowing, signaling a raid. Panic coursed through you.

The Blackthornes had come.

The man was distracted momentarily by the sound and you took the opportunity to grab a rock and smash it against his head. He grunted and fell back, letting you go. You scrambled away and stood up, running to your home.

You heard the shouts of the villagers as they prepared for battle, the sounds of swords clashing and people dying.

As you ran, you saw a group of warriors, led by Einar Blackthorne, storming through the village, killing and setting everything on fire. By the time you got to your house, it was in flames.

Your parents were nowhere to be seen and your heart dropped. You picked up the wood axe sitting on a stump and broke down the door, the heat and smoke burning your lungs.

"Faðir!" You shouted, coughing and looking around. "Móðir!"

"Y/N," a voice called. You saw your mother, kneeling on the floor and holding her hands over her chest.

"Móðir!" You cried, rushing over to her. "What happened, are you alright?"

"Dóttir," she said, reaching out to you, her breathing was labored and her hands were covered in blood.

Your father lay next to her, a wound in his stomach and a pool of blood surrounding him.

"Faðir," you gasped, looking at his lifeless body.

"Gerda," your mother croaked, clutching at your dress. "Go get Gerda,"

"I will," you assured her. "But first I must get you out of here."

You tried to help her stand, but her breathing became ragged and her eyes fluttered closed.

"Móðir?" You said, shaking her.

She didn't respond and her head slumped forward, her body limp in your arms.

"Móðir!" You screamed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The smoke grew thicker, and the fire was getting closer. The wood beams above cracking and falling.

You laid her down gently, the smoke stinging your eyes, the heat of the flames singeing your hair and burning your skin.

You stumbled through the flames, making your way out of the house, you coughed and sputtered, trying to breathe in the clean air. Your village was engulfed in chaos and flames, you could see the invaders killing and stealing, their cries echoing through the night.

"Gerda," you whispered, trying to catch your breath.

A figure appeared in the darkness, a man wielding a sword, his body covered in blood and his face masked by the smoke. He was wearing the Blackthorne colors of gray and red. You raised your axe and struck him down, the blade slicing through his neck. Rage and adrenaline coursed through you, the fury of Tyr fueling you as you continued on, searching for Gerda.

Your family, your clan, your home had been destroyed. Everything you loved was burning, but you were determined to find your baby sister.

Your ran back to the longhouse, it was in flames, the heat radiating off of the building.

"Gerda!" You screamed out for her, trying to find her in the chaos.

You could hear the sound of fighting and screams, the smell of burning wood and blood filled the air.

Suddenly, a man emerged from the smoke, the same one who tried to rape you earlier, you raised your axe again, ready to strike.

But the man grabbed the blade, stopping the swing mid-air and pulling it from your grasp. He smirked and grabbed you by the hair, throwing you to the ground. You looked up at the longhouse, the place where you had spent so many nights with the Mikaelson family, the place where Gerda and Henrik were.

"You will make a good prize," he growled, running his hands over your body.

"No!" You screamed, thrashing around and he laughed and pinned you down, his hands tearing at your dress.

You could hear the cries of the villagers as they fought for their lives, the screams of the children and the clash of steel.

A hand grabbed the back of your attacker's neck and he was ripped away from you, you gasped, scrambling back. You watched the men fight viciously, exchanging blows.

Your savior was wearing the Mikaelson colors of green and blue, and you realized it was Niklaus.

You stood and grabbed your axe, raising it and attacking other raiders as they tried to approach, giving Niklaus the advantage.

"Y/n! systir!" You heard the sound of your name being called and you looked up, seeing Gerda and Henrik being hauled off by the raiders.

"Gerda!" You shouted, running after them.

You couldn't reach them, another raider jumped in front of you, swinging his sword. You ducked and avoided his blow, swinging your axe and catching him in the side.

He fell to the ground and you kept running, chasing after the raiders and your sister. You ran as fast as you could, dodging the raiders who were trying to stop you. But it was no use, they caught you and dragged you back.

Snow was starting to fall, and you could feel the cold biting at your skin. Two raiders had you by the arms, dragging you along the cold ground, you knew it wouldn't be long before you saw Valhalla. They threw you onto the back of a horse, the cold metal of a knife pressed to your throat.

"Don't struggle or we'll throw you into the fire," the man behind you growled.

You kicked him hard, and he struck you across the face, but you didn't care. Your family was dead, your home was gone, and Gerda was being taken away.

Suddenly, the men on the horse yelled, and the knife was pulled from your throat. You looked up to see a figure in armor, holding a Mikaelson shield in one hand and a sword in the other.

He struck down the Raiders, their bodies falling to the ground. You were disoriented from the blow, unable to see who had come to your rescue.

The figure grabbed the reins of the horse, and the beast whinnied, bucking wildly. He pulled you against him, the metal of his armor cold against your skin.

"Shhhh," he whispered, trying to calm the horse.

You recognized the voice, it was Elijah, Niklaus’ elder brother.

"We have to get out of here, can you ride?" He asked.

You nodded and he handed you the reins. You could see the bodies of the raiders scattered around, and the sounds of the battle were beginning to fade. Snow and ash fell from the sky, and the scent of death hung in the air.

"Come on," Elijah said, pulling himself up behind you.

He wrapped his arm around you, taking the reins back. "I will take you somewhere safe," he promised.

"What about your family? They took Gerda and Henrik," you asked, tears stinging your eyes.

The horse took off, galloping through the woods and away from the destruction. You looked back, seeing the flames and smoke rising into the night sky, and you wondered if Gerda was still alive.

"I saw Niklaus going after them, we have to hope he can save them," Elijah replied.

You held onto the horse tightly, the wind and sleet whipping against your face. The snow falling heavier now, the trees bare and the branches covered in a layer of ice.

Elijah's voice cut through the cold, "I know a place we can shelter from this storm,"

The wind howled and the snow fell heavily, obscuring your vision. You could barely see a thing, but you trusted Elijah.

You didn't know how long you'd been riding, but eventually, Elijah stopped the horse and helped you down.

He brushed away some snow to reveal a small cabin built into a overhang of rock. He tied the horse to a post under the eaves of the structure and opened the door, motioning for you to enter.

"It's not much, but it will keep us warm," he said.

The cabin was made of logs and stones, and there was a fireplace in the center. You shivered, your body numb from the cold.

Elijah started a fire with some wood that was already stacked inside the cabin, and soon the room was filled with warmth and light.

You sat on a bench, the flames from the fireplace flickering, casting shadows on the walls. Elijah sat beside you, and you could see the exhaustion and sorrow in his eyes.

"What of the rest of your family? Your parents? Rebekah? Kol? Finn?" You asked.

Elijah let out a sigh, "my parents and Finn were killed, I lost Kol and Rebekah, I don't know where they are or if they're even alive,"

He turned to look at you, his dark eyes full of sadness. "What about your parents?"

You looked away, a lump forming in your throat. "Dead as well."

You tried to stop the tears, to be strong, but the thought of your mother and father, and all those people, gone, was too much to bear. You buried your face in your hands and sobbed, the grief washing over you like a tidal wave.

Elijah placed his cloak around you and got up to stoke the fire. He added more wood, and the flames crackled and popped.

He sat back down and you moved closer, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you. You were both tired and hurt, and you knew that this might be the last night you ever spent alive. You were both silent for a moment, the weight of the night's events heavy on your minds.

"I am sorry about your family," Elijah whispered.

"As I am sorry about yours," you replied, looking up at him.

This was the first time you ever really spoke to him, as children you were always running around with Kol and Rebekah. Elijah was the stern older brother, the one who was always scolding you for being reckless. But now, he seemed so different.

He placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away the tears that were rolling down your cheeks.

"We will find them, and send every single one of those Blackthornes straight to Hel,"

Niklaus was smiling as he feasted and celebrated his engagement. The scent of meat and ale mingled with the smell of pine and fire, the flickering candles casting a warm glow on the room.

He sat with his brother, Elijah, watching as the members of the clan drank and danced. The atmosphere was festive, and everyone seemed to be having a good time, Niklaus loved a good party, especially one that was about him.

"Isn't she a beauty, brother?" He remarked, watching you from across the table.

"She will be a fine wife for you," Elijah replied, sipping his mead.

"Do you think she will let me bed her before the wedding? I do wish to know what pleasures await me," he grinned.

"Niklaus," Elijah sighed, "You cannot speak of your betrothed in such a manner, have some respect."

"Relax brother, it is just the two of us," he shrugged.

"Still, a woman's virtue is not a subject to be jested about,"

"Oh come on, 'Lijah, I'm only joking. Even the gods would agree that the wedding cannot come soon enough." He said, taking a sip of his mead.

The men were sitting around the table, feasting and drinking. Niklaus watched his little brother Henrik playing with Gerda, they were dancing and spinning in circles.

"I'm surprised Kol is not joining in on the festivities," Niklaus said, nodding to where Kol was sitting alone at the end of the table.

"He's been moody lately," Elijah remarked. "His courting of the Blackthorne girl did not go well, he returned with an arrow in his thigh."

"He was lucky to come back at all," Niklaus muttered. "Father won't listen to reason when it comes to the Blackthornes."

"What would you have him do Niklaus? Wage a war we cannot win?" Elijah replied, his eyes flickering over to where you were talking to some of the women.

"This is how I see it. We either bring the fight to the Blackthornes or wait for them to bring the fight to us," Niklaus stated.

"You two talk of politics like wise old men," Finn piped up. "But you're nothing more than fools, unprepared for battle. The Blackthornes are a mighty clan, and if we were to attack, we would lose everything we've built here."

"When have you seen battle Finn? When you put your trousers on in the morning? Or when you wipe your ass?" Niklaus laughed, grinning at Finn maliciously.

Finn rolled his eyes and ignored the insult, "This is a peaceful village. The only bloodshed we've seen is at the hands of wolves and bears. Father is right to avoid conflict."

"I stopped listening after you said 'father is right', that means nothing to me," Niklaus remarked, downing his drink.

"Well, then I shall take my leave and continue this conversation with someone who actually has the capacity to understand it," Finn huffed, getting up from his seat.

Elijah shook his head, "He does have a point Niklaus. War is not something we can take lightly, the consequences could be dire."

Niklaus watched as Finn went over to you and offered his hand, no doubt asking you for a dance. He watched as you politely rejected Finn. He smiled to himself, you really were the perfect wife.

"We can't avoid the Blackthornes forever. Eventually, we will have to make a move," Niklaus stated.

"Not today, Niklaus, not tonight. Tonight is a night of celebration," Elijah said. "You cannot lust after war on the night of your engagement."

"Fine," Niklaus sighed. "We will discuss this tomorrow,"

"Very well," Elijah agreed.

"I'll hold you to that," Niklaus said, downing the rest of his mead, he watched as you danced with Rebekah, he loved the way you smiled and laughed.

He felt a sense of peace and happiness, knowing that soon, you would be his wife. He looked to his father, who raised his mug and toasted to the union, a gesture that surprised Niklaus, but also put him at ease.

The music began to play, and the men started dancing with their wives. He came over to you, and told you how the gods were smiling down at your union. You looked so beautiful, and he could barely take his eyes off of you.

He danced with you for a while, before Elijah approached and asked for a private word. The brothers found a quiet corner, away from the crowds and music.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I've gotten word from a scout that the Blackthornes are near. Their numbers are great, and they are preparing to attack," Elijah informed him.

"When will they be here?" Niklaus asked, his mind already racing with possible scenarios and outcomes.

"On the morrow, if the scouts are correct," Elijah replied, his voice tense.

"Then we must prepare. I'll rally the men, and we'll set a trap. We'll lead the Blackthornes into the woods, and ambush them," Niklaus said, his eyes flashing with excitement.

"Father has it well in hand, enjoy the celebrations Niklaus," Elijah said. "And be careful not to drink too much, I will need your help in the morning."

Niklaus nodded, but couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He glanced over to where you were sitting, chatting and laughing with Kol. You were so happy and carefree, and he wanted to protect that, even if it meant risking his life.

Niklaus spent the rest of the evening drinking and dancing, trying to push aside his worries. You left not long after, and he went to follow, but Kol stopped him, "Let her be Niklaus. She's tired, and I'm sure she has a lot on her mind."

He begrudgingly agreed and stayed, dancing with Henrik on his shoulders as Gerda did on Kol's. It was late, and he could feel the effects of the mead and ale taking hold.

"Off to bed now little Henrik. I'll walk you home sweet Gerda," Kol said softly, setting her down and kissing her cheek.

Suddenly the sound of a horn rang through the night air, and they froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

"To arms!" Mikael shouted, his voice echoing through the longhouse.

The room erupted into chaos, the men rushing to grab their weapons and armor. Niklaus laughed, rushing to grab his sword, "So much for a peaceful night!"

He grabbed his shield and rushed outside, joining the fray of battle.

The smell of blood and sweat filled his nostrils as he swung his sword, cutting down raider after raider. Glory and honor filled his heart as he fought, but the thought of you was never far from his mind.

He had promised you that he would keep you safe, and he intended to keep that promise. Your father was old and you had no brothers to defend you, tonight it was his duty. He headed towards your home, but stopped at the sound of his sister screaming, he turned to see Finn swinging wildly at Einar Blackthorne.

His eldest brother was standing in front of Rebekah, she was holding a sword with shaking hands.

"Finn, don't!" Rebekah pleaded, watching him try to fight Einar, but it was an uneven match, Einar struck Finn across the torso with his axe and he crumpled to the ground.

Rebekah fell to her knees at his side, "No! Finn, no!" She cried, clutching to his body.

Einar grabbed Rebekah by the hair and dragged her away.

Niklaus roared and chased after them, but was cut off by a group of raiders, and he slashed and hacked his way through them, searching for where his sister had been taken in the chaos.

Kol was fighting nearby, the young warrior was up against a beast of a man, he stabbed Kol in the arm and he collapsed to the ground.

He heard the sounds of Kol's screams, the boy was fighting for his life. The sight of Kol, bloody and beaten, snapped something inside Niklaus.

He ran towards the man who had stabbed his brother, his eyes full of rage and fury. The man was large and strong, but Niklaus was faster, he plunged his sword into the man's chest and twisted, watching as the life drained from his eyes.

Niklaus could almost hear the drum beats of war, as though the gates of Valhalla had opened, and his ancestors were cheering him on.

The scent of blood and death was thick in the air, and the sounds of clashing metal and screams filled the night. The ground was covered in the bodies of the dead and wounded, and the snow was stained crimson.

He pulled Kol to his feet, and saw Elijah fighting off a group of raiders, his movements a blur as he sliced and cut.

"I can't find Rebekah, they've taken her!" Niklaus cried out.

"We will find her, brother. I promise," Elijah replied, his gaze fierce and determined.

Niklaus could see the fires from the longhouse, the smoke rising into the sky. His family's home was burning, and the village was being pillaged and raided.

Elijah pulled his younger brothers into an embrace, his hands on their shoulders, "our father and mother have been stuck down, I could not save them,"

"Finn?" Kol asked, his eyes darting around, looking for the eldest brother.

"Gone," Niklaus replied.

The three brothers looked at each other, the weight of their losses settling over them. Elijah pulled his younger brothers into an embrace, their foreheads touching.

"I will find Rebekah, I promise. Niklaus, find Y/N, get her to safety," Elijah instructed.

"But brother-" Niklaus began.

"Now!" Elijah roared.

Niklaus and Kol exchanged a glance and nodded, and Elijah took off in one direction.

Niklaus and Kol began to search the village, but all they found were the bodies of their people, dead and dying.

The sound of your screams caught Niklaus' attention, and he rushed towards the noise, Kol close behind.

They found you, being held by a raider, he was ripping at your clothes, and you were fighting him with all your might.

Kol saw Rebekah being loaded onto a cart and he rushed after it.

Niklaus' vision turned red, and he charged at the raider, pulling him off of you and tackling him to the ground. His blood was boiling, and he couldn't stop his rage.

He slammed his fist into the raider's face, again and again. The sound of bones crunching and the taste of blood filled his senses. He attacked him like a rabid beast and he watched you get to your feet and lunge at another raider, cutting him down with just a wood axe. He smiled and laughed at the sight, the goddess Freja possessed you, beautiful and deadly.

He heard the sounds of Gerda's screams and watched you chase after her. He went to follow but was knocked over by a blow to the head.

He rolled over, the world spinning around him. He tried to stand, but he stumbled and his vision blurred. It was like everything was moving in slow motion, and silence fell.

He saw you being dragged away, kicking and screaming. He saw Kol, fighting a few paces away, his movements becoming slower and sloppier as his wounds took their toll. But he had saved Rebekah, she was helping him stay upright, the two of them fighting back to back.

He saw a raider raise his axe to strike Kol, and he saw Rebekah push him out of the way. Blood burst from her face as the blade made contact. She fell to the ground, clutching her head.

It was as if Thor himself had struck him with lightning, he forced himself to stand, roaring with pure rage. He grabbed a spear from the ground. He hurled it, watching as it impaled the raider, a look of surprise and pain on his face as he fell to the ground, dead.

Niklaus rushed towards his siblings, grabbing them and dragging them to their feet.

"Go!" He shouted, picking up Rebekah and dragging her towards the tree line, Kol close behind.

He looked back, trying to see you, but you were gone.

They stumbled into the woods, the sounds of the raid fading into the distance.

"Where's Elijah? Henrik, Gerda, Y/n?" Kol asked, panic in his voice.

Niklaus didn't reply, the weight of his sister and the wound in his side making it difficult to breathe.

"Niklaus, where are they?" Kol repeated.

"I- I don't know," Niklaus panted, stumbling over a branch.

The trees loomed above them, the darkness of the forest threatening to swallow them whole.

They continued to run, the sounds of the battle growing distant.

"We will find them. But first we must get Rebekah to a healer, she will die if we do not," Niklaus stated, his voice low and determined.

"We can't just leave them," Kol protested, his voice cracking.

"You don't think I know that!" Niklaus yelled, louder and angrier than he meant to.

Kol was quiet, the only sounds were their labored breathing and the crunching of leaves beneath their feet.

They walked for what felt like an eternity, the pain in Niklaus' side growing worse with every step. The rapidly falling snow making it hard to see.

Niklaus could hear Kol sniffling and muttering to himself, his younger brother was barely holding on.

He was struggling too, the guilt and pain eating away at him.

He had failed you.

{Part Two} {Part Three} {Part Four} {Part Five}

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syoddeye · 8 months ago

Text

useless, part three

Part three (and the finale!) of my submission to @glitterypirateduck's O, Captain! Challenge. As a reminder, I rolled a d100 to select three prompts. I finally used my third prompt.

42. The story spans over a period of 10 or more years

14. Opposites attract

66. Price or Reader is auctioned off for a date as part of a fundraiser

cw: one pregnancy mention (Reader does not get pregnant, has never been pregnant)

Read Part One, Part Two. Tag list: @v1x3n @kiranezra

~4.2k words, Price x f!Reader. This is the most self-indulgent shit I've written in awhile. Please enjoy.

It's past midnight when you limp through the front door of your flat, dropping belongings and articles of clothing alike, shedding both the weight of personhood and your eighteen-hour day. You set your keys down on the end of the counter, ignoring the thin folder for the umpteenth time. James will undoubtedly text about it in the morning, his patronizing messages more reliable than any alarm clock. A half-hour commute home, and you didn't even glance at your phone in fear of accidentally seeing another email from his lawyer. Solicitor. Whatever.

Hamhock slinks out from his lair beneath the bed, weaving between your ankles when you drag yourself into the bathroom.

"Hello Hammy," You whisper, eyeing the newer crop of gray hairs near your roots with a weary neutrality. Definitely the fundraiser's fault. Your hair started to change long before this year's planning began, but this is the longest period you've gone without dyeing it. One thing to thank James for. Not only did his departure give you a crystal clear focus, it freed you from his ridiculous expectations. He'd've commented the moment he spotted the wisps of silver, then casually worked something like anti-aging cream into the conversation.

The prick poisoned the well, and now the only man in the world for you currently lies at your feet. How it should've been from the start, really.

After checking the orange menace's automatic feeder, you slip into bed, allow him to assume his nocturnal throne—your armpit—and plug your phone in one-handed. Your eyes glaze over at the sight of notifications, thumb swiping by muscle memory, and set an alarm. With two weeks left until the big day and more than a hundred unsold tickets, you need every moment you can get. You sigh, counting the tasks of the day ahead instead of sheep.

You'll sign the divorce papers tomorrow.

Naomi practically forces the granola bar into your hands. The assistant stage manager and the props lead—the younger woman is the glue to your glue. A newer fixture at the Bramble Theatre, she was you to an extent, maybe a decade ago: fresh-faced, eager, and optimistic.

"I didn't like how you were looking at the wax fruit."

"We should swap the oranges for plums. Or pears."

"We've been through this. The oranges fit the palette, from the paintings to Dotty's–oh, quit pulling my leg."

You grin, then jut your chin at the stack of slips in her hand. "Are those the waivers? Did all the volunteers sign?"

"Yes, I can post headshots today on socials, so that should boost sales."

"Good. That's one fire extinguished," Rubbing your temple, you lean back in your chair. "I feel gross about it, though. I mean, we run shows that are hundreds of years old, but a date auction? Why don't we raise a guillotine out front and sacrifice effigies to raise money?"

Naomi blinks and whips out her phone. "...Okay, one, I'm noting the effigy idea for next year, but two, the auction won the vote, and everyone participating volunteered."

You grimace. "I know, it's just–"

The sudden opening of the door to your shoebox office interrupts. Theodore, business manager, director, and occasional movement coach, bursts in. Everybody's a multi-hyphenate.

"Terrible news!"

Wonderful. A new fire. You squint, chewing, and watch Naomi try to stifle a laugh valiantly. "Whatever could this be about?"

The older man slams his palms onto your desk, his layered pendants tinkling. "I've punched the numbers, including a best scenario, stars aligning–"

"Teddy. Out with it."

"–we're going to be £40,000 short. Even if we sell out, even if we raffle off the company like cattle, we are circling the drain!"

The tired amusement leaves your body, and in its wake sits a five-digit number and the distant idea to schedule a salon appointment.

The annual fundraiser for the theater, your hard-won home, is a dramatic, demanding, and near-disastrous event every year. The theater has continuously operated a hair above the red, but the laundry list of expenses from the last year cannot be ignored. The new light rig, the stage flooring replacement, the curtain repairs—they never stop. Sponsors and grants only go so far.

Originally, you took this job for its laughable but slightly higher pay and because running around like a madwoman between four gigs at a time wasn't as thrilling or charmingly bohemian as it was in your twenties. Your livelihood depends on the playhouse's success. And the economy. And the general public's attitude toward the arts. All wildly variable. It made you resourceful, and already, you were composing a mental list of people to politely bully for pledges promised in years past. You need time and a phone charger.

"Teddy," you set the half-eaten granola bar down. "Go get ready for afternoon rehearsal. Naomi, cover for me today?"

"'Course."

Theodore swipes his spindly fingers over his brow, nodding fervently at your resolve. "If anyone can pull it off, it's you. Do tell if there is anything yours truly can do." With a flourish, the director departs your office, but Naomi lingers.

"You know if it's donations we need…"

You shake your head, immediately knowing what she intends to suggest. "Out of the question."

"But think of her–"

"I'd rather debase myself and resort to dinner theatre."

"I'm just saying–"

"Naomi," You stress. "I am not calling my mother."

She frowns. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. Are you really so proud you wouldn't leverage your family's connections to save the Bramble?"

It makes you pause. As usual, she's right. Irritatingly so. You could take another salary cut, but you'd need to find a flatshare, a humiliating idea. Hammy wouldn't survive it, the sensitive thing. You sigh and dismiss her with a wave.

"Fine I won't rule it out. But I'm going to shake down half the city first."

An hour later, you've managed to secure a percentage. Not too shabby, but far from the goal. You take a break to read James's team's latest, vaguely threatening missives and entertain the idea of withholding your signature until he makes a donation. What's a little extortion in the name of art?

You know it's wrong to delay this ugly process. How close relief is should you simply sign the papers. But it's another failure, another black spot in your life's ledger. Another dream crushed beneath the boot of reality. With a wave of bitterness, you type out a curt reply, ensuring you will sign the papers and ask them to arrange for a courier tomorrow.

Naomi's suggestion takes advantage of your mind's lethargy, testing the strength of your will and stubbornness. The last time you phoned your mother was months ago, on the anniversary of dad's death. The old man took his last bow five years back, and it destroyed the last bridge between you and your formidable mother. In retirement, she still holds court with major political players stateside…and across the pond.

Before you let your loathing catch up, you pull up her contact card and dial. It's after noon in D.C., the middle of the week. You might get lucky and reach her voice–

"Is everything alright? You're not in the hospital, are you?" Her donnish, sharp voice hurtles you through time and space to your teenage years.

"No," You answer with gritted teeth. A headache waits in the wings. "No, I'm fine, mom."

"Then why are you calling?"

This is why dad handled conversations. You stand, swiftly shutting the door to your office and locking it. "Can't I just call my mom?"

"Of course. Historically, you do not," There's a low murmur of chatter in the background. She's at a luncheon or at the club. "So I assume there is a reason."

Having an ex-ambassador for a mother is a joke. All that practised charm for everyone else in the world, none of it reserved for you. "Okay, yes, there is a reason."

"Thought so. Well, darling, what is it? Is it James? Don't tell me you're pregnant."

You return to your desk and eye the bottle of bourbon on the corner. "No. James and I are divorcing, remember? This is about my work."

There is no acknowledgement of the separation. Instead, your mother pulls the phone away from her mouth, excuses herself from wherever she is, and the background noise dissipates.

"Your work."

"Yes, the Bramble? Look, we're two weeks out from our big annual fundraiser, and–"

"Oh, you need me to write a check." The clicking of her heels halts abruptly, and if you didn't know any better, she wilts. "Fine. How much do you want?"

Your face heats with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "I am not asking for money. If you would stop interrupting me…Ugh, mom, I need help contacting some of your old friends here. If there's anyone you know looking for tax deductions or a pet project to brag about, the Bramble is in a bad spot financially."

In the past, whenever the theatre and, by extension, your chosen profession came up, your mother took the opportunity to lecture. She reminded you of the wasted opportunities she afforded you. She brought up your old schoolmates and their current positions. And most insulting of all, she always, always compared you to a certain soldier. Bracing yourself for her monologuing, you reached for the bottle.

"Why didn't you open with that, darling?"

Your fingers close around empty air, and you nearly pitch out of your seat in surprise. "What?"

"Send me the information. I've been meaning to reconnect with some old friends. When is the fundraiser?"

"In two weeks," You repeat, scrambling to pull up your email on the ancient desktop. "Tickets are–"

"Email it. I'll book my flights today and let you know when I'm getting in."

Your hands hover over the keyboard, and your neck protests the angle it bends to keep your phone lodged between ear and shoulder. "Oh, no, mom, you don't need to come."

"Nonsense. I'll, of course, make my own donation, and as a donor, I ought to see where my money is going."

Christ. For the Bramble, you remind yourself and exhale. "Okay. You do that. Listen, I have to get going…but mom?" It kills you to say it. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome. Oh, this will be so much fun. I haven't visited since before your father. You know, on the topic of reconnecting, I happened get an email from the Prices the other day, and John–"

There it is. You kick into fourth gear, rattling off your exit. "I've really got to run. Thanks again mom, send me your flight info. Love you. Bye!"

You feel like you've run a marathon and dodged a bullet. And yet, as you send the email and file the waivers, your mind snags on your mother's words. On a name. His name. It's not the first time your unhelpful brain's waylaid you with a trip down memory lane. Admittedly, it's happened more since James asked for the divorce. Most nights, if it isn't life's stresses hounding you, it's an endless parade of what-ifs behind your eyelids.

What if you studied economics instead? What if you stayed in America? What if you hadn't gone to that stupid New Year's party? What if you hadn't kissed John? If you didn't get on the train?

The people in your circle frequently speak about living life without regrets. It's a romantic notion and a highly unrealistic one.

Your phone buzzes—Naomi. You're needed. Pushing the past where it belongs, back on a dark shelf, and head out to put out another fire.

Three days before the fundraiser, your mother lands in London and hosts you at her hotel for dinner. Playing catch-up is a professional sport with a whirlwind of names you barely remember and memories you remember very differently.

You pick at dessert, listening to another story.

"–and he was so insistent that that school of yours was a breeding ground for monsters, and I told him, isn't that what's needed in today's society? People need thick skin in politics and business. You'll be happy to know, though, he bought four tickets to the fundraiser."

You don't remember who you're talking about but smile and nod. It's a tough pill to swallow, your mother's success at rallying old friends with deep pockets. Teddy's practically in love with her despite having never met her, popping his bald head into your office to sing her praises whenever another pledge arrives.

Your response is rote. "That's wonderful, mom. Thank you."

She prattles on for another half hour before you decide it's time to return home to Hamhock and burn the midnight oil on the fundraiser's date auction. You asked the company for fifty-word bios and actors, bless them, struggle to contain their self-praises. When she finally pauses to take a sip of wine, you rise. "I should head home, lots to do–"

Ignoring you outright, her head turns, and she grins. "There you are!"

Following her gaze, your brow lowers in confusion until you clap eyes on a trio headed in your direction in the company of a server. Very briefly, you consider the melodramatics of matricide. You've been set up.

Mr. and Mrs. Price look well for their age, puttering toward your mother. They are greyer and a little shorter, but the warmth is there.

John, however…

The universe is intent on humbling you.

The hair is the first thing you notice. Short, kempt, and annoyingly a dark shade of brown. It's crept southward onto his face in a beard of a choice style. There is comfort in the finer details that clarify as he nears. He hasn't escaped time's passing with a face marked by crow's feet, frown lines, and forehead furrows. Beneath his shirt, there's a slight suggestion of a belly, though, with his thick arms and the narrowing of his waist, he's clearly a wall of muscle.

The worst part is how infuriatingly kind his smile looks. It's the beard. Softens him. Once an arrogant prick, always an arrogant prick.

John rumbles your name in a whisper, reeling you in for a polite peck on the cheek. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

You're years beyond fifteen and twenty-five, but how swiftly the impulse to snark resurfaces is alarming. Maturity tempers you. "You look good, too."

After a few minutes of greetings, the two of you are tasked with heading to the bar to fetch drinks. Wholly unnecessary what with a server, but it's a clear command to let the 'adults' talk for a spell. Nevermind being shy of forty. John's quick to try conversation when the order's in.

"You haven't changed a bit," He observes, leaning against the bar beside you.

"Now there's something a woman wants to hear after a decade." You huff, casting your eyes across the restaurant, finding it difficult to look at him. The dark blue of his sweater makes his eyes pop.

"Fourteen years, actually," He corrects. "Drinking martinis, actin'…"

You snort. "You're half right. The Martini half."

His elbow gently knocks into yours atop the bar. "Apologies. My mother told me you'd been in My Fair Lady last summer."

That draws your attention. "No. The theater put it on, but I'm the stage manager. I haven't been on stage in ages." Your eyes flicker to the table, then back to him. Heat crawls up your collar. What other information has your mother passed along? Glancing down at your bare ring finger, you turn the conversation. "Not so different from a Captain, I reckon. How's that going?"

John squints a little, and his mouth pulls into a familiar smirk, tugging at old strings in your stomach. "Can't complain."

"Riveting stuff," He chuckles at that, a deep rasping sound, and you find yourself grinning. "Don't suppose that bit of clandestine, secret agent-type shit your mom's talked about?"

"Secret agent?"

"Yeah. Mentioned it in a Christmas card maybe three years ago?" You smile triumphantly into your glass. Seems both your mothers have a penchant for dressing up the truth.

His jaw works a tick, and something heavy passes behind his eyes. "Well, 'm not. Not exactly."

"Let me guess. If you told me, you'd have to kill me?"

He refocuses some, and a short laugh leaves him. "Something like that."

It's all painfully familiar, but it feels different with a little more life under your belt. His mere presence keeps you on your toes, yet you haven't felt this comfortable in months. For all the history and tension, talking to him is easy. A silence passes, the drinks arrive, and you ferry them to the table.

The night passes better than you expected when you first saw the Prices. They express belated condolences over your father, you chat about the fundraiser, and John politely navigates questions about his work. It frightens you when he briefly mentions Piccadilly to know he'd been there in the carnage. Part and parcel of military life, you guess.

"John, be a gentleman and walk her to the station," His mother chides as the five of you congregate in the hotel lobby.

"He doesn't need to do that," You hastily say. Not again.

"'Course."

There is something dreadfully giddy to how your parents wish you both goodnight.

At least you do not need to take his arm this time. Still, there is no way John isn't thinking about that night. Not when that look of quiet desperation he wore is seared within your memory. It's silly, but you peeked at his hands earlier, and like yours, they're naked.

You break the silence to fish. "How long are you on leave?"

"A week. Got in yesterday."

"Do you normally visit your parents?"

"Often."

Doesn't mean there isn't a woman in his life. 'Often' is not 'always'.

"Visit anyone else? Friends?"

He chuckles. "Sometimes."

You roll your eyes. "You know, you haven't changed much either. Aside from the beard and smoker's lung. Still a stunning conversationalist."

John smirks down at you. "Picked it up in the army."

Oh, yes. He remembers.

The conversation lulls, and the walk is short. You figure John's keen on a repeat when he wordlessly escorts you to the platform. But today's not a holiday, and the station is reasonably busy. He watches like a hawk, nonetheless, when you check the time.

"Brings back memories," He quietly comments.

Nodding, your thumb rubs where your wedding band used to rest. "Sure does." You respond and meet his gaze.

You studied theater, moved back to London, went to the party, and kissed John. You didn't regret those choices—only one.

The invitation flies out of you as your train emerges from the tunnel.

"Do you want to meet Hamhock?"

"He's…certainly orange."

"Don't rush to spend all your compliments at once," You glare, arms full of Ham, then coo at the cat. "John's jealous because he's going grey in the beard."

"I am not."

"Saw them on the Tube. Can't those from me," You tease and set the cat down, giving your kitchen a quick glance. A silver lining of work eating up your schedule is that you last cleaned two weeks ago, and it's held.

"What're those on your head then?" He gestures with a finger and toes off his shoes.

"Details of a person ageing gracefully." You play it confidently, but part of you holds a breath.

He hums and sidesteps Hamhock. "Suits you. It's pretty."

Maybe inviting him over is a mistake. The bolt that runs through you from the compliment pokes at something you thought buried. "What a gentleman," You try to inject as much sarcasm as possible, but your voice quivers. "I'll be right back. Sit tight?"

You leave John in the kitchen to retreat to the bathroom to regroup. Come on, you scold yourself over the basin for getting worked up. It's just John.

And yet, what remains of your confidence perches on a cliffside at the sight of John pointedly staring at the folder of your copies of the divorce papers on the counter. Fantastic.

His small smile is genuinely sympathetic. It's enraging.

"Y'know, I knew you were married…When I didn't see a ring at the hotel, though, I wondered."

Your chest tightens, and you shove the folder into a bookshelf. "Yep. Finalized the divorce two-ish weeks ago."

You're not in the mood to be reminded of your failures.

"Sorry it didn't work out," John murmurs.

"That's life. That's how it works sometimes," You exhale, then force a smile. "Want a drink? Bourbon? Wine?"

He lets you change the subject, and you let him have a glass of whiskey.

You sit on opposite ends of your short couch, Hamhock acting as a gentlemanly barrier. The conversation rekindles itself after a few fingers of liquor, and eventually, John migrates to the floor, idly playing with the cat. You confide in him about your worries about the event and whether the funds raised will be enough, and he listens. There is no condescension, no bulldozing. Not a trace of smugness at all when he makes suggestions. You don't realize how you've slipped into an old, practically ancient formation until he peers back, eyes creasing from laughter. You're fifteen again, and it is useless to deny it – you are regrettably in love with John Price.

"Can I confess something?" He suddenly asks as your cat waddles off with a catnip toy in his mouth.

Your heart lurches. "If it's a crime, I'm a terrible conspirator."

"No. Nothin' like that, but I lied earlier." He chuckles, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. "My mother didn't tell me about My Fair Lady."

"What do you mean?"

John turns sheepish. "I came an' saw it when I was on leave last summer. Thought I'd surprise you, but I got to the theater and lost my nerve."

Instantly, you pick through scraps of memories from the production. There is no way you would have known he was in attendance, not with how hellishly busy you are.

"You, Captain John Price, lost your nerve?"

Color blooms high on his cheeks, and he turns on the floor, rubbing his neck. "I knew you're not acting but I didn't know how to mention it without soundin' like a prick." His eyes look soft. Different from how they looked that night in his parent's garden. Steady, unwavering, but soft. "I know I'm not good with words. I seem to have a talent for making you angry. But I really am happy to see you. Didn't think I'd get another chance after how I bungled it all those years ago at the train–"

At your grown ages, the angle of the kiss is inadvisable. The two of you fix it without parting, and his hands cup your face when you're finally standing toe-to-toe.

He touches your foreheads together when breathing becomes necessary. "Change anything?"

You don't answer. You lead him to your bedroom and exile the cat.

The fundraiser goes off with a predictable amount of hitches. The caterer is an hour late and forgets half the hors d'oeuvres. The bar runs out of red wine early. Two actors from the children's company slap-fight on stage. Nothing you, Naomi, and Teddy can't fix with elbow grease and stage magic. The caterers re-course. Naomi calls in a favor from her bartender girlfriend. And the children forget their quarrel when they're called upon to defeat Captain Hook.

What you are not prepared for is one of the actors calling out sick, leaving you one date short for the auction. You waste an hour trying to convince one of your fellow techies to step in.

Naomi corners you when you stress-eat a comically tiny piece of toast swiped from a tray.

"You know, if one person is all we need…"

"Your girlfriend won't be mad?"

"Ha-ha, don't get cheeky. C'mon, isn't it time you got back out there?"

You suppress a smug smile. Naomi has no idea. Nobody does. You've gotten back out there and then some.

"Did I not tell you I was grossed out by the auction?"

She's relentless. "Are you really so proud you wouldn't debase yourself a little for the Bramble?"

"Absolutely not."

You'd said it with such conviction, so it's a puzzle when you find yourself waiting in the stage wing, makeup hurriedly refreshed. It takes all your courage and grace not to stumble to Teddy's side when he calls your name. He improvises an introduction on the fly, and you nearly laugh when you realize this is the first time you've been on the stage, under a spotlight, in years.

The bidding opens, and you hold your breath, letting it go when a few unfamiliar voices call out numbers. A humbling embarrassment clutches you by the throat. But then a paddle raises more confidently in the front row. The light is bright, but you know whose hand hoists it high.

He collects you at the end of the night as you lock up.

"There's my prize."

You can't stop the grin that splits your face. "It's just a date, John."

"Yeah, doin' things a bit out of order, aren't we?" A glimmer of his younger, puffed-up self shines through, and his hand envelops yours.

As you walk, your elbow digs into his ribs, "What will our mothers say?"

"That a big deal to you?"

"To some people."

"Well, love, you're not 'some people'."

#ocaptainchallenge #john price #john price x reader #john price x f!reader #price x reader #price x f!reader #lieutenant john price #cw alcohol #i love love #i love corny shit #i needed to write something soft okay?#lightly edited bc i don't think i'll have time to write tomorrow and the deadline is tomorrow!

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asherbakugou · 6 months ago

Text

When You First Meet

Jiang Kai | Kai Kalama

Reader rushed around the room with the other designers, placing the models clothes in their respective dressing rooms as they prepared for them to arrive. They hadn't yet been informed of their models so the room was filled with a nervous energy.

"So, who do ya think you're gonna get?" Alyssa asked, wiggling her brows teasingly.

"How am I supposed to know?" Reader retorted, bumping their hips together. Alyssa looked around conspiratorially, leaning in closer as Reader continued organizing her models chosen clothes.

"Well, from what I've heard–"

"Overheard, you mean."

"Hush. From what I've heard one of the ninja are coming to model for the company, to help raise money for that Charity you like so much."

"The Charity for Rebuilding?"

"Yeah, that one."

Before Reader could ask if she'd heard anything else they were called together.

"Alright! Listen up! Here is the list of designers and who your model is," Directin Lin announced, holding up said sheet. Alyssa leanes forward eagerly as Reader snickered at her friends eagerness. As the youngest designers it was doubtful either of them would get the higher ranking models.

Everyone surged forward to look at the paper but Alyssa and Reader held back for a moment. They both noticed how people kept glaring back at them for some reason but . . .

Shrugging it off they finally got a chance to see the list. And right beside Readers name was Kai Kalama, the Fire Ninja.

Freezing, both her and Alyssa just stared at the name. "I knew I had an effect on the ladies, but I never realized just how bad it was."

Whirling around they found Kai standing behind behind them with a smug look. And that was all it took for Reader to know how the rest of the day was going to go.

The entire session was filled with flirts and compliments that made her cheeks darken even when they didn't give him an actual response. Kai was not one to give up, but they liked his charm and hoped she'd get to see him model again.

Zane Julien

Reader sat in the shade of one of the large trees of the park, leaning back against its trunk as she sketched a rough outline of the beautiful fountain just across the way. Humming to herself she finished up for the day before carefully putting her sketchbook in her bag.

Done for the day, Reader wondered if they should have brought the car since she needed to go grocery shopping soon. As her mind wandered, she did not realize someone was heading right for her until she was slammed into and her bag ripped from her hands.

"Hey!" Reader shrieked, stumbling for a second before taking off after him. "Get back here!"

The man outpaced her but she didn't stop, her sketchbook was far too expensive for her to stop. Ice suddenly formed on the grass, and the man lost his balance tripping over his own feet and faceplanting into the ground, much to Reader's delight and shock.

Stopping before the ice, she doubled over as a stitch tugged painfully at her ribs. Another man, her age wearing a sweatervest surprisingly, came and retrieved her bag to hand to her.

"Are you alright, miss?"

"Umm, yes, thank you . . ." Reader trailed off, unsure of his name. She recognized him as one of the ninja but she'd never had any reason to remember their names.

"Zane, the White Ninja."

"Oh, well then thank you, Mr. White Ninja," Reader thanked, swinging her bag up onto her shoulder.

"I shall take him into custody and inform the police of his attempted crime. I do not believe it shall require your attention," Zane stated, turning to do so. "I hope the rest of your day is well."

"Uhh, yeah, I hope you have a good day as well," Reader said, taking a step away as Zane went to sling the man over his shoulder.

'Damn, love to watch 'em walk away,' Reader thought, before shaking her head. 'Oh my dragon, what am I thinking? That is so rude of me!'

Reader rushed away before she could become even more mortified by her thoughts, quietly hoping to see the very handsome man again one day.

Cole Brookstone

Reader smiled at the group who had just walked into their store, nodding for Miya to take their orders. The new hire gave them an anxious look, but they were not deterred. The best way to learn was through experience and this was a good start for her.

"Hello, welcome to Fairy Tale's Cakes and Stories, how can I help you?" Miya chirped, smiling through her nerves.

The group of teens was a little rowdy, but they didn't cause any trouble even when they spoke over each other, causing Miya to falter. Once she had finished up their order, the group of seven dispersed and Miya hurried back over to Reader's side.

"How did I do?"

"Really well, Miya. By next week you should be able to man the register without any issue, I just want to make sure you know how to handle any problematic customers," Reader stated, having seen Miya's face drop a little.

"Okay, thank you for this!"

"Of course. Now, why don't you go clean up some of the tables, I'll take the register till you're done."

A customer had walked in while they spoke, a young man on his own who was eagerly looking at the cake display case.

"Hello, welcome to Fairy Tale's Cakes and Stories, how can I help you?"

"Oh, uhh, what's in the Grimm Cake?"

"Its a milk chocolate base, dark chocolate glaze, orange zest buttercream, and a book made of chocolate and filled with orange cream," Reader explained, watching as the man practically salivated at the thought.

"I'll take a whole one!"

"A whole cake?" Reader asked, surprised. Most people only wanted a slice.

"Yes, please!"

"Coming right up."

When he was still there, over an hour later, Miya wondered over to Readers side.

"Is he going to sit there and eat an entire cake?"

"If thats what he wants to do," Reader answered, focused on the grocery list they were working out. The man came up to the counter where Reader was working so they paused in their writing, offering a smile. "How can I help you?"

"I just wanted to come up and say that that was really good! I don't think I've ever had a cake so good! I'll definitely be coming back!" Waving, the man headed back out the door with a bounce in his step.

"Holy shit," Miya whispered, jaw on the floor.

"Miya," Reader warned.

"Did you not recognize him? That was Cole, the Earth Ninja. One of the saviors of Ninjago."

Reader paused in their writing. They had not recognized Cole but they knew of him and his team.

"So, I just had one of the ninja in my shop?"

"Yes!"

"Huh."

They hoped he visited again, and not just because a ninja buying their cakes would boost business.

Jay Walker

Reader was heavily focused on the project Nya had shared with her, working to rebuild this engine piece for one of the ninja's vehicles. She heard Aaron talking to someone, leading them through the garage, but she ignored them for the moment.

"And this is Reader, I believe she was the one you were looking for?" Aaron asked, stopping just before her station, making her pause.

"Yep, thank you!"

Nodding, Aaron left, leaving Reader and the strange man alone. "So, is there something you need me specifically for?"

"Oh, uh, well, heh, Nya actually sent me," He said, smiling awkwardly.

"Nya did? So then you're one of the ninja," Reader realized. He lit up, striking a pose.

"The Lightning Ninja, at your service!" Jay announced proudly, making Reader giggle though she tried to hide it.

"Well then Mr. Lightning Ninja, what did Ninja send you up here for?"

"Oh, she wanted me to check up on the engine for Lloyd's new bike."

"Oh, yeah. I told I'd probably have it done by today, but I ended up having to help with some rich guys car." Reader shook her head at the memory of the rich asshole.

"She said she gave you free reign?"

"Yep. All she wanted was a fast engine for a bike, my specialty." Reader winked making Jay giggle as he went a little red. A good hour passed with them discussing the different engine choices and Jay happily lending a hand.

When he left, Reader couldn't help but miss his presence already. Very few people shared her passion, work ethic, and sense of humor, so Jay was, in her mind, a godsend. She hoped he'd come back one day so they could continue their converaation.

Lloyd Garmadon

Reader was hiding behind one of the numerous sheleves of comics as they put the comics back in their place. She'd noticed Ryker walking in the door and had hurried away to stock the sholves with the new comics.

For the past two weeks Ryker had been stalking them at her job, waiting for her to get off with the excuse that he wanted to walk them home. It was creepy and gross, and Reader wanted nothing to do with him.

"Hey Reader," Ryker said, having found them while they sorted through the massive amount of Starfarers comics to place on the shelves.

"Ryker, I'm working."

"I just wanted to say hi. You've been ignoring me, and leaving at different times. I haven't been able to walk you home," Ryker complained, his greasy voice sending shivers down her spine.

"I don't need you to walk me home, I'm just fine on my own," Reader snapped, feeling a bit like a chihuahua barking at a rottweiler.

"Oh come on, Reader." Ryker stepped closer, boxing them in, and making her heart rate pick up. "Just give me a chance. Just one date."

"I already told you, no. I'm not going on a date with you," Reader said, trying to sound stronger than she felt.

Rykers face twisted into something ugly, hand reaching out to grab them by the waist. "Really, is that really how you're going to be? A nice guys asks you out and you're gonna be a bitch!"

"Hey!" Someone grabbed Rykers wrist, the one attached to the hand squeezing Readers hip uncomfortably tight, and easily pulled him off. Now, Ryker isn't a small man, nearly 5'11 and 200lbs but the one who'd tugged him off was easily the same height but seemingly thinner. "When someone tells you to back off, you back off."

"Who the fuck are you?!" Ryker demanded, trying to tug his wrist away.

"Lloyd Garmadon, the Green Ninja."

Reader couldn't help the hot flush that spread across her face at the realization of who this was. While her personal favorite ninja had always been Jay, she liked his jokes and attitude, she did admire the Green Ninja. Ryker, on the other hand, seemed to lose all his coloring.

"That-why-what?! Why would a ninja give two shits about some ugly bitch?!"

Reader immediatley lashed out, slapping Ryker with an open palm. She felt a bit more confident with the Green Ninja right there, because what could Ryker do to them with him here. "Don't you ever call me a bitch again!"

Lloyd was a little startled, but he forced himself to not smile at the red mark slreading across his face. "Beat it. If I see you hanging around again, I'll knock you on your ass."

Snarling, Ryker retreated, a coward down to his bones.

"Thank you, for the rescue."

"Oh uh, it was no problem. Always happy to help a pretty girl in need of help." Lloyd froze, mortified by what had just slipped from his mouth. "Oh, FSM! I'm so sorry, that was–"

Reader giggled, holding a hand over their mouth to hide her smile. "No, no. It's ok. A compliment from the powerful Green Ninja. Lucky me."

A shout from the door had Lloyd wincing.

"Sorry, um, my team needs me . . ."

Smiling, Reader stepped forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "Well then you best get going, my hero." Giggling to themself, Reader sauntered away with the box of comics in hand.

Lloyd watched them walk away, bright red, jaw nearly on the floor.

Morro

Reader trembled violently as she and the other workers were lined up in front of the customer by the robber. He had barged in less than five minutes ago, an hour before they opened, barking out orders as he aimed a gun at them, with four others coming in behind him.

While Jason, the baker, might have had a chance at fighting one of them off, the rest of the morning crew couldn't. Reader could feel the tears pooling in her eyes before there was the loud crash of glass shattering as three of the ninja dove inside.

The Black, Blue, and Red ninja had broken through the front window and were taking out the first three robbers while the other two robbers reached out for hostages. Reader cried out as she was violently grabbed by her hair, just like Anya was. Both girls cried out, trying to pull away until the cold steel was pressed against their jaws.

"Please, please," Anya begged, tears pouring down her face as she sobbed. She had only been hired a week ago as a cashier, and now she was being held hostage by robbers.

Two figures came out from the shadows, the Green and Grey ninja.

"Hey, let's talk this out," Green began, holding out his hands, palm up. "You don't have to do this. Just let the girls go, and put the guns down."

"Why the hell would I listen to you!" The robber holding Reader shouted, yanking violently and ripping out some of her hair, making her shriek in pain.

"Let us go!" Anya screamed, and in a moment of brilliant, stupid bravery, she slammed a heel down on her robbers foot, and an elbow into his nose.

"Hey, wait!" Green shouted, lurching forward as Grey tensed.

"You little bitch!!" A gunshot rang out and blood splattered across Readers face, making her scream in terror.

Green lunged for the killer as Grey went for Reader. In a practiced move, he seperated them knocking the gun from the robbers hand before kicking him into one of the other ninja grasp.

Reader collapsed, no longer held up by her hair, and too afraid to stay standing. While she hadn't known Anya very well, the girl had been friendly and Reader had hoped they could be good friends but now . . . Anya would never experience anything ever again.

Sobbing into her hands, she didn't notice when the Grey ninja crouched down at her side awkwardly. "Hey, are you injured?" His voice was gruff, sharp, but Reader didn't seem to hear him, too shocked to take anything in.

Scowling behind the mask, Grey leaned forward. "Hey." Without raising his voice he managed to grab her attention. "Are you injured?"

Reader gasped for breath, scrubbing her tears away as she tried to focus. "My-uhm, my scalp. It hurts."

"Okay. Any other pain?"

"N-no."

Nodding, Grey reached out and easily lifted her to feet, startling her. Unable to stand she just collapsed against him, making him go stiff. "The-the ambulance is gonna be here in a minute to get you taken care of, alright."

"Okay." Reader was thankful when Grey didn't move, simply keeping his hands on her shoulders so she didn't slump back down to the floor. "Thank you. For saving me."

"Its what ninja do."

Once the ambulance arrived, Reader was escorted by the Grey ninja to be checked out. Tugging off his mask, he spoke in low tones to the EMT, before helping get Reader onto the ambulance.

As she was laying back on the bed, a small part of her hoped to see the nice ninja again one day. Even if she didn't know his name.

A/n: Can you tell who my favorite charactors are?

#ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #jay walker #cole brookstone #zane julien #ninjago morro #morro redemption #lloyd garmadon x reader #kai smith x reader #jay walker x reader #cole brookstone x reader #zane julien x reader #morro x reader #headcanon

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 11 months ago

Text

New Years Resolutions - Carlos Sainz

warnings - not proof read

If it were any normal New Years Eve, you'd be at home by yourself, with the comfort of instant noodles and the talk shows that were on TV with singers and everything like that. But, this year was different.

Your parents had loosely known the Sainz family, so you were among the many on the list invited to their New Years party. You decided saying no was a slightly stupid idea, so you said you'd be going and got all dressed up.

When you walked in, you instantly realised that you didn't know a single person there. Before you had the chance to slip back out the front door unnoticed, you heard someone call out your name. Looking around the space, you didn't see anyone but crowds of unfamiliar people.

You figured that there was another Y/N there, and the person was looking for someone else. You began to back out of the door a second time, but then you saw who the calls were coming from. "Y/N, hey! I didn't think you'd be coming," a familiar voice said, parting through the crowds.

"Hey, Carlos. I thought I might as well show my face," you smiled at your old friend. Seen as your parents were friends, you and Carlos had interacted a few times over the years. You liked him, he was nice towards you and hadn't given you any reason to dislike him.

It would also be pointless to deny that he was very handsome and easy on the eyes. "I'm glad you're here, I can finally have some fun. It's been pretty boring, I must admit," he grinned, taking your coat from off your shoulders. "We ran out of room on the coat rack, so would you mind if I put it in my room? I don't want it getting lost," he said.

"Yeah, that'd be fine, thank you," you nodded as the two of you walked into the packed living room. I mean, you looked around and the room felt bigger than the entirety of your house, and there were definitely a couple hundred people here.

"You wait here, I'll be back," he said, disappearing through the crowd with your coat. There were a couple of people you recognised, but you didn't know any of them. You stood, rooted to the spot so that you didn't have to spend a second more than necessary without Carlos.

"You wanna get a drink?" he asked, reappearing right next to you.

"Yeah please," you nodded, and he placed a soft hand on the small of your back as he gently guided you through the crowds of people towards the bar that they just casually had in their house.

"What can I get for you?" he chuckled, rounding the bar and acting like a bartender. "Whatever you want, I can do it for you," he smiled.

"I'll take a tequila sunrise then, please," you said as Carlos instantly got to work. He found all the ingredients he needed, and poured the grenadine into your glass before shaking the tequila, orange juice and triple sec in the cocktail shaker.

Pouring it out into the glass, he topped it with ice and a mini umbrella to complete the drink. "Thank you very much," you smiled, sipping away at it. The measurements were absolutely perfect, and it was a very good tequila sunrise.

"No problem, it's my pleasure. How about we go somewhere a little less crowded? We can catch up," he asked, coming back around to your side of the bar.

"Yeah, sounds good," you said, picking your drink up and following him where he he was taking you. The room you went into only had a couple of people, all crowded around a pool table as they played.

"So, how've you been? It's been ages since I last saw you," he sincerely asked, sitting down next to you on one of the plush couches in the room.

"I've been good, yeah. I mean, we probably haven't seen each other because you've been off being Carlos Sainz, and I've been working and stuff," you said, as he intently watched you. You didn't have to see him all the time to know that the two of you were friends.

"Yeah, I guess Carlos Sainz is a pretty full time thing," he lightly chuckled, his smile instantly putting one on your face. He had a certain quality about him, something that allowed you to calm down and relax. "Tell me, what's your New Years resolution?" he quizzed.

"Right, don't laugh at me if it's corny, OK?" you asked, and he simply raised an eyebrow at you out of curiosity.

"I say the same thing every single year, but I want to find someone, you know? I've been single for long enough, I want a relationship, I want to be loved," you told him, and he wasn't going to laugh any time soon. He found it endearing, even if it was one of the last things he expected to come out of your mouth.

"Well I'm sure you will, you're a good person, and to top it all off you're stunning, so I don't see why you won't get a boyfriend," he said without missing a beat, as if it were a normal thing he said to everyone. You blushed lightly as his comment, your cheeks heating up.

"Thanks Carlos, I really appreciate it," you blushed, unable to make eye contact with him.

"I'm serious, someone would be very lucky to have you," he continued, noticing the red flush to your face. "I'm just saying what someone else should have told you a long time ago," he finished, checking his watch as he noticed people filtering back into the living room.

"God, you're such a flirt," you laughed, nudging him. You also noticed that people were leaving the room, and you figured it was because you were getting close to midnight.

"Come on, let's go into the living room, it's nearly midnight," Carlos said, standing and holding his hand out for you. You took it and let him lead you into the crowded living room, both of you having to stand closely in the corner.

You were squashed between this random guy and Carlos, and you could barely breathe because of how tight the space was. Carlos noticed the slight discomfort on your face, and pulled you in front of him by the shoulders. You were now stood so your back was lightly brushing against his chest whenever either of you breathed. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks," you smiled, looking up at him over your shoulder. Looking around, you saw that all of the boyfriends and girlfriends, fiances, partners, husbands and wives, were all stood together, undoubtedly getting ready for their New Years kiss. Maybe next year you'd get yours.

The people who could see the TV started counting down, and before you knew it, it was 2024. Somewhere outside, you could hear the fireworks booming, as the couples around you embraced with a kiss and others cheersed.

You turned around, shouting a 'Happy new year Carlos!' over the noise. The smile on your face was absolutely priceless, and the lack of space between you was causing him to sweat. He bit the bullet and went for it, "Can I kiss you?" he shouted back, and you just looked at him for a moment.

A kiss wouldn't hurt, right? There was nothing for you to lose by kissing Carlos, so you replied with a simple 'yes'. That was all the confirmation he needed, as he closed the small gap between you and captured your lips with his.

It felt like the sparks between you were bigger than those of the fireworks outside as neither of you pulled away. He realised that everyone else was just celebrating now, while the two of you were practically making out in the corner, so he begrudgingly pulled away from you.

"I think you'll fulfill your New Years resolution earlier than expected," he smiled chuckled, the euphoria that was surging through his veins not wearing off in the slightest. Now this was the perfect way to start the new year, no doubts about it.

A/N - Happy new year my loves! Here's to a 2024 of more writing, and hopefully less Ferrari pain... :). Thank you for sticking with me this year, and I'll see you all next year! Have a wonderful day/night, and I love y'all 💖🍾

|masterlist|

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asexualbookbird · 8 days ago

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Hm. Okay. So I didn't read a lot this last month. I've been fighting chronic illness and the brain fog that comes with it so really it's a miracle I read what I did. Didn't do any drawing challenge this year, but I DID knit a half dozen cool little things I can't yet share but am very excited about! I also had fun with the Tricking Treats this year. Yall really came through for that game this year, thanks! Acquired a nice new monitor for computer and it's been wonderful. Next step is speakers so I can watch things!

I feel like I made a pretty decent dent in my yearly reading list and while I don't think I'll finish it (waitlist for Jasmine Throne audio is still about sixteen weeks long), I'm happy with where I am. Three (3!!) books I read this month were from the list and I think that's very cool and executive functioning of me.

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan ⭐⭐⭐½ - A friend has been trying to get me to read this since it came out and I've always put it off because our tastes are SO different, but I didn't hate this! I mostly enjoyed it! It missed a few marks for me and I wouldn't really want to read it again, but I'm glad I experienced it. Love a good gremlin of a main character.

Red Sister by Mark Lawrence ⭐ - Yawn. Snore. Boring. Read for book club, but I wasn't exactly not interested in it on my own. IT just. Didn't hit right. Mark Lawrence needs to stop being afraid of aging up his characters because there is no way a nine year old is doing all that. Was this scifi? Where those space ships?? Is the moon haunted??? Who knows. Who cares. Not I.

Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor ⭐⭐⭐⭐ - I am forever a Daughter of Smoke and Bone girlie (gender neutral) so I've been avoiding this because what if I don't like it?? Spoiler! I did like it! It somehow scratched the hole left in my heart after DoSaB, but still felt distinct and unique. Did not like the insta love going on, yall have known each other for like twelve hours what do you mean you're In Love. Visuals were great and world building stunning as always. I wish Laini Taylor published more books, I love the worlds she creates.

Once & Future by AR Capetta and Cory McCarthy ⭐ - I'm never reading another book with Jimmy Pees name on it ever again. I meant to do a full review on this one, but time slipped away. I think this could be SO GOOD if it was reworked to two books where book one stopped at the time skip and book two took more time to overthrow the Evil Capitalist. It was too on the nose. It felt like middle grade, it dealt with older young adult topics. Merlin fucking sucked. I find it icky that everyone was paired off except for the ace character who EVERYONE HATED. Sure they came around to her, but ONLY AFTER IT WAS MADE CLEAR SHE WASN'T INTO GWEN. Ick. Full of potential, and yet.

Not a great reading month. Maybe November will be kinder. I'm slowly getting through Sunbringer, and am enjoying what I'm read so far so things are looking up. Going to see Nerd Squad soon. Still making knitted things I can't share until after the holidays. Tricking Treats also made me excited to do art again and because there were so many I ended up learning a lot about how CSP works which is fun! So hey! November is looking good! November is looking fun! I WILL MAKE IT FUN!

#bookbird babbles #reading wrap up #monthly wrap up #october wrap up #books #booklr #my health has Not Been Good yall lmaaoooo #i hate insurance its such a scam #just give me my meds!!!!!!!!!!!! the dr prescribed them for a reason!!!!!!! who are you to say its unnecessary!#also disability took away 100$ every month because 'my income changed' but the only income i have is their payments so like.#lol. lmao even.#idk its a mess over here but i refuse to die about it

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 9 months ago

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02/21/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew Sightings; Rhys Darby; Samba BTS; Vico Ortiz; Ruibo Qian; HowToHelp; Petition Embed; Queerties Last Day; IRL Outreach Assets; New Watch Parties; Visual Rep of SaveOFMD Effort; Fan Spotlight; Collages; OurFlagMeansBooze; Articles; Morale; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Tonight's Taika;

Wow everyone, crazy day again. Day 2 of BTS Darbygeddon. I'm actually going to set a google calendar reminder for tomorrow between 1-2 in case Samba decides to drop another doozy on us. Hope you all had a good day. Here's the highlights-- there's more I would have liked to add but I need to get permission first, so I'll hopefully have them up tomorrow. As always, please let me know if I missed anything <3

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Rhys Darby =

Back again with another Cameo is Rhys for our lovely crewmate @Kellykat53 over on twitter! Thank you so much for sharing this with us Kelly, it's a lovely little inspirational video, definitely gives us plenty of Vitamin RD (as @scorpiostarseed would say). Check out the Cameo

= Saint Samba Schutte =

I've seen several people mention that Samba is a Saint (sorry not sure who started it to attribute it) so going forward, that will be his name. SO MANY BTS pictures and videos. My goodness. Has it even been a day since the last Merstede dump? It has, but damn, here we are with the BOYFRIEND video, and the nipple scratching, and oh look it's Buttons from the Cryptid Factor! As always, if you have access to instagram, please check out these posts on Samba and Rhys' posts/stories.

Videos on Tumblr:

Boyfriends - ty @blakbonnet!

Merstede - ty @kiwistede!

English Jacket - ty @kiwistede!

Cursed Jacket - ty @kiwistede!

Steard Nips - ty @kiwistede!

Rhysently Granted Reunion - ty @kiwistede!

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico voiced the new novel "The Diablo's Curse "by New York Times Best Seller Gabe Cole Novoa! I know some of you are huge Vico fans so wanted to mention it, you can purchase the audio book here. Src: Vico's IG

= Ruibo Qian =

Are you in New York? Our Pirate Queen will be at the #TonyKiserTheater NEXT MONDAY, FEBRUARY 26 at 6:30PM for a one night only reading of On The Evolutionary Function of Shame, by D.A. Mindell - For more details visit here.

== How to Help ==

Hey all! We're adding some things to the daily task lists (and taking some off). Here they are!

= Petition Embed Code =

Looking to easily embed the petition link in your AO3 fic, or maybe your email? @sonnetforbonnet was kind enough to provide us with some embeds you can use! Please visit the repo for the codes!

= Last day for Queerties! =

Please remember to vote! Today's the last day!

Best TV Comedy

Best TV Performance

= IRL Outreach Assets =

== New Watch Parties Coming Up! ==

The Pirates! Watch Party! This is a family friendly movie so bring the kids! Or the adults-- or anyone you know, really, as long as it's not against their will! Sunday March 3rd, 3 PM EST, 12 PM PST, 8 PM GMT!

Watch Party Hashtags:

#OurPirateCaptain

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

== Visual Representation of Fandom Efforts to SOFMD ==

Remember our friends that had the in person Matelotage Processional? Well they're back with a funny video illustrating the fandom efforts of Save OFMD!

Fangirlfoto's Instagram Don't have instagram? See the video on the repo here.

＝＝ Fan Spotlight ＝＝

Thank you once again to @wndrngnomad on twitter for all their awesome collages dedicated to the Cast and Crew! Day 21: Calypso's Birthday! Perfectly timed considering the lovely Boyfriend themed BTS we got today! Catch-Up: Day 2: Madeleine Sami!

= Our Flag Means Booze! =

Our absolutely brilliant crew-mate @quiet-compassion over on tumblr has been designing OFMD Themed Drinks since the show was dropped by Max! These not only have super fun and creative names you'll all recognise, but an amazing array of flavours too! If you're 21+ (in the US) or the appropriate age for drinking in your country, feel free to try them out! As always, please drink responsibly! Are you celebrating with Moonglow Manifesting? Why not try the "Moon Glow" cocktail for the end of the event! Want to see ALL their concoctions? Head on over to the repo, they're all there!

== Articles ==

17 Facts and Easter Eggs about OurFlagMeansDeath That will Get you On Board - 17 Fakten und Easter Eggs zu „Our Flag Means Death“, die dich ins Boot holen - ty @AddieH on twitter

Max: The 34 Absolute Best TV Shows to Watch

==Morale ==

Hey crew. I've been hearing some scuttlebutt around the deck that people are starting to worry again about whether or not s3 is going to happen. The love notes section is already pretty long so I'm not gonna go too crazy up here too -- instead I'm going to just point out that David Jenkins, while not active and posting things for us right now, is sneakily poking around in Samba and Rhys' BTS comments. He's still there, he's still watching, and I think he can tell we're all feeling the high from Samba's releases. Don't give up hope, these things take time. They're gonna get there. I'm gonna add the trends to this section today because I think it's important to see what we did today:

== Love Notes ==

Hey Lovelies. I know I've said it before, but it bares repeating since I know a lot of you are struggling right now.

Just a gentle reminder that if your brain is telling you that there's something wrong with you, or that you've done something wrong or embarrassing -- it's lying to you.

There's been so much dopamine from all the excitement lately with the BTS, that it has to come down at some point, and when it does, your brain will sometimes over-compensate and you start feeling maybe worse than you did before.

This is totally normal, it really is. Our brains are glorious complex pathways of unmeasurable brilliance, and yet a simple hormone change can make that same brain tell us that we're not enough, or we're not worthy.

I am here to remind you, you are so very much enough.

No matter what is happening in your life-- in your job, in your personal relationships, in your family, in your school, anywhere--

YOU ARE ENOUGH, EXACTLY HOW YOU ARE.

If you feel like you've failed, or you've let someone down, just know you are STILL enough. We all fail, it's how we learn.

We pick ourselves back up and we try again, and if we fail again--

We're STILL enough, and we are still worthy of love and comfort.

Eventually you will succeed. You will get there, and all the while while you work on it, YOU. ARE. ENOUGH.

I know it's so hard to see when you're feeling small, but I see you all every day, and I am awe-struck at your constant ability to band together and not only find love and support, but give it so freely and lovingly.

A simple @ to someone, alerting them to something they'd like

A love note in dms or on a tumblr post

A gif or picture or video brought to tumblr from some other platform so others can see them.

Writing a fic or drawing a picture.

A reblog with tags, goofy or not

Anon Asks showing people you support how they feel about a given topic

Liking a post.

These are all love notes. No matter how public or private, they're all there and they all add up eventually to form this wonderful community and you've been kicking ass at love.

I know we all look like we're having a good time, but a lot of us are struggling silently, and yet we're finding ways to reach out to one another and spread love to help us all get through. Love isn't always positivity, it can be commiseration, or frustration on behalf of someone. You all are finding the best ways to help your crew, and I'm so very proud of you.

You all are capable, creative, gifted, beautious piles of stardust smooshed together into one wonderfully unique package, and you are so very loved.

You are enough,

You are loved,

and THINGS WILL GET BETTER Lovelies.

Get some rest <3 You got this.

= Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika =

What can I say, I literally can't not include this Rhys gif today. It's physically impossible, please forgive me. Good fucking lord, I'm going to Costa Rica now. Also, sorry I tried to get a matching Taika gif, but I have run out of brain cells. Hopefully this one will suffice.

Rhys - Courtesy of @bizarrelittlemew

Taika - Courtesy of @studiomoon

#ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #taika waititi #rhys darby #ofmd #our flag means death #vico ortiz #ruibo qian #save ofmd #saveofmd #save our flag means death #ofmd bts #samba schutte #saint samba schutte

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uhohwhathaveidone · 2 years ago

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Nah cause what if Sebastian x slytherin reader right where your helping in him in his quests but you get attacked and reader gets knocked out and he’s mad n protective

"I've only had reader for a few day bit if anything happens to them i will curse everyone in this room and then myself"

My Knight (S.S)

I hate spiders. That's a lie, I just don't like them if they're too close. Love peacock spiders though. So cute. Based off that alone, we're dealing with that one quest with the spiders. So, there's a warning for you, also I haven't been able to play the game still, my pc is still refusing, so do I know what's going on? No. Did I call the giant spider the BroodMother while only thinking about that horrible darkspawn from Dragon Age? Yes. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, I'm posting rather early so I might start on another request tonight. <3

You sucked in a breath as you shouted another spell at the spiders that surrounded you, desperate to keep them away. You glanced over to Sebastian, who was shouting his own spells at the spiders. You quickly cast a protection spell as you sprinted over, kicking a smaller spider away from Sebastian’s legs. “They keep coming! What are we supposed to do?” You shouted, throwing Stupefy at a spider that jumped at you. Sebastian shouted, bumping into your back, causing you to stumble. You turned to him, trying to see what had happened, when your eyes widened.

A giant spider crawled from a hole in the side of the cave, its long legs towering over you while causing the ground to tremble beneath you. Its eyes shined red as it slowly crawled over to you, letting out a screech that made your eardrums rattle. “It’s the Brood Mother! I think that’s what they call her?” Sebastian shouted, grabbing onto your arm, and pulling you towards him. You watched as the smaller spiders scurried away, afraid of their giant counterpart. You readied your wand as you watched her, narrowing your gaze as you looked for a weak point. Without warning she ran at you, nearly knocking you into a wall with her leg. You threw spell after spell at her, a mix of red and yellow emitting from your wand. Sebastian had gotten separated from you, attacking the giant spider from the other side of the cave.

You didn’t have many spells at your disposal, so you turned to using spells to throw the giant rocks around you, knocking out one of her legs. You watched as she spun around, trying to pick a target, and you quickly shouted to Sebastian as you dodged an attack. “Go for her legs!” “Got it!” You continued to dodge attacks and cast spells at the spider, quietly begging for her to go down, as your arms got tired. You watched as Sebastian threw a decent-sized rock with his wand, hitting her in the head and sending hundreds of broken stones into her eyes, causing her to flail and spin in panic. You felt victory hover in the air as you sent another stone flying, hitting her in the head once again. She let out a final screech as she tumbled to the ground, legs going limp around her as she hit the stone.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you looked over to Sebastian, who let out a triumphant cheer as he tried to catch his breath. You put your wand into your robe as you made your way over to him, stepping over rocks that broke off in your fight. You smiled as you reached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” Sebastian nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, yeah. But I think spiders just made it to the top of the Bugs I Hate list.” You chuckled as you shook your head. “Spiders aren’t technically bugs, though. They’re like their own species.” You joked, watching as Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Whatever they are, I don’t like them in the slightest anymore.”

“Does this mean that next time you see a spider, you’re going to ask me to kill it for you?” Sebastian scoffed, crossing his arms as he turned away from you, looking at some of the rocks that surrounded him. “Of course not. Just, don’t ask me to take care of one if its bigger than a Sovereign.” You laughed, noting the fact and looking around the cave. “Come look at this,” Sebastian said, waving his hand to you as you walked over. He held one of the stones in his hand, its surface shining in the soft light of a nearby torch. You leaned closer, examining the stone, as Sebastian watched you, a light blush creeping to his cheeks at the closeness. “It looks like quartz. Could this have been an old mine?” You asked, looking up at Sebastian as you leaned away, fixing your posture. Sebastian shrugged as he began to explain just how quartz mines worked to you. You listened, of course, no longer paying attention to your surroundings.

Behind you, the giant legs of the spider twitched, slowly retracting to her body as she regained consciousness. Slowly, she used her front legs to move some rocks away from her eyes, rolling onto the ground. Your ears perked as you heard the rocks make contact with the ground, the hair on the back of your neck standing up and making you uneasy. You watched Sebastian as he continued to talk, glancing around you. The spider, now free of sharp stones, stood up, looking where the two of you stood. “It’s a wonder why so many old works of art weren’t taken down and recycled, could have used them, pity.” Sebastian said, tossing the stone back onto the ground. Alerted, the spider trained her eyes on you, preparing an attack. You looked over your shoulder to where you had left the spider, eyes widening as you realized your mistake. “What do you think about it all? Would it still-“ You cut Sebastian off as you grabbed the collar of his robe, yelling for him to move as you used the remaining strength you had left to pull him from where he was standing, sending him to the ground behind you as you watched the spider slam into the wall, right where he was originally standing.

Sebastian let out a shriek as he watched the spider, one that he thought was dead, shake its head as it retracted from the wall. You quickly reached for your wand, casting a shield charm as a leg slammed down in front of you. “I thought we killed the thing?” Sebastian shouted, scrambling to his feet and pulling out his own wand. You shook your head, sending off a spell at its eyes. “Stupid! How did I not realize!” You shouted at yourself as you spun and grabbed Sebastian, running. “It was so obvious!” You continued, “She didn’t die like the other spiders, remember?” Sebastian nodded, trying to cast another spell at the spider. “This time, we fight until she’s on her back and curled up!”

You gasped for air as you kept up your attack, throwing rock after rock at the spider as Sebastian unleashed his own onslaught. You struck one of its eyes with another rock, running to Sebastian as the spider spun once again. You ran faster as you saw one of its legs rise, beginning to bring it down, its target Sebastian. You yelled his name as you reached for him, casting a spell to push him back as the spider’s leg made contact, sending you flying back. Sebastian shouted your name, watching as you tumbled across the stones and finally coming to halt, your wand tossed beside you. There was no way to reach you as the spider continued its own attack, its sharp legs making dents in the stone below it. Sebastian was hit with an idea, and he quickly shouted at the spider, running around it. He found a boulder that had been split in half, and he raised his wand and sent it flying at the spider, slicing through one of its legs.

“Accio!” Sebastian brought the leg towards him as he shouted for the spider’s attention. Both him and the spider were angered beyond reasoning, and the spider let out another screech as it stood taller, ready to tear into Sebastian, who only stood there. He smiled, watching as the spider straightened its legs, exposing the underside of its abdomen. Without hesitation, Sebastian launched the leg back to its owner, its sharp tip burrowing into the stiff exoskeleton, sending the spider to rear up as it screeched in pain, eventually falling backwards and twitching. Sebastian watched as it slowly died, making sure that it stayed dead, before turning to where you still laid, unmoving.

“Y/n!” He breathed as he dropped to your side, turning you onto your back. His eyes widened as he held your head up, blood slowly trickling down into the small puddle that had formed under you. “No, come on! You can’t let a bug take you out!” He shouted, his shaking hands reaching for his wand as he racked his brain for a spell to heal your wound. The faint sound of scurrying legs sounded from the hall you walked through to get to where you were now, a small group of spiders quickly making their way over. “Not now, not now.” Sebastian whispered, tapping the wand to his head. Quickly, his eyes widened as a spell came to mind, and he quickly flipped his want and whispered “Episkey”. The gash on your head began to heal itself, the blood vanishing from your face and the ground. You were still out, however, and Sebastian lifted you from the group and brought you to the side of the cave, leaning you against its wall and standing in front of you, wand raised as the small spiders moved into the room.

A few moments later the final spider rolled over, legs curling in as it died. Sebastian let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he looked around in case there were any more hiding around. You squinted, glancing around. Your head throbbed slightly as you brought your hand up, brushing against where the gash had been. You squinted as you looked at Sebastian’s silhouette, his shoulders raising and dropping quickly as he sucked in air. You smiled, looking around at the dead spiders. “Keep breathing like that,” you started, sitting yourself up more, “You’ll probably drop like those spiders.” Sebastian turned to you, a sigh of relief leaving him as he dropped his knee to take a look at you. “You’d find that funny, wouldn’t you?” You nodded, smiling. Sebastian grabbed your face, turning it to check your head. His calloused hand rested under your chin, gently moving your head around. “How’s your head, then?” He asked, letting you go. You shrugged, feeling the dull throb as it slowly faded. “I’m fine, thanks to you I suppose?” Sebastian smiled as he nodded, standing up and offering his hand.

You looked over to where the mother laid, her legs retracted to her body as rigor mortis set in. You raised your eyebrows in surprise as you noticed one of its legs missing, finding it protruding from her body. You looked at Sebastian, surprised yet impressed as he shrugged. “Couldn’t let her take you out before I did.” You scoffed, slowly walking towards the spider. Sebastian quickly grabbed your sleeve as he pulled you away, shaking his head. “Look, I’m sure I can kill a giant bug. No need to double check.” You chuckled as you shook your head, opening your mouth. “No, don’t even! I’m going to call it a bug if I want to.” You closed your mouth, choosing to smile instead. You looked around for your wand, realizing that it wasn’t in your hand. Sebastian cleared his throat to get your attention, and you turned to see him holding your wand in his hand. You sighed, walking over and reaching for the wand, only for Sebastian to hold it above your head and out of reach. You frowned, narrowing your gaze as you glared at Sebastian. “I do believe I deserve something in return?” You shook your head as you leaned closer to Sebastian, placing a small kiss on his cheek and then snatching your wand from his hand.

Sebastian stood there, shocked, as you fixed your robes. “Whatever would I do without you, my dear Knight?” Sebastian stuttered, quickly fixing his hair as his cheeks heated up. “Probably not get attacked by giant spiders, for one.” You nodded, placing your wand into your pocket. “Although,” Sebastian started, slowly walking over to you. “I don’t think a cheeky kiss is enough for the trauma I went through to protect you.” You chuckled, pretending to be deep in thought. “Of course, a killer of spiders should be given a better reward.” With that, you quickly leaned against Sebastian again, this time placing a soft kiss to his lips and walking towards the hall, turning back and waiting for Sebastian. He quickly followed you, slightly whining. “Are you even going to ask me how I did it?” “I figured you’d tell me on the walk back, you can never stay quiet about these things.” “I find that rude, but I suppose I’ll tell you.”

#sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #harry potter imagine #fluff #slight angst #sebastian sallow angst #hogwarts legacy imagine

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liquidorcard · 18 days ago

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Lily can't keep her own "Sympathetic" Villains rules Straight: Anthony Gramuglia edition

See Crim's edition for the rules and outlines. Here we go.

Lily's Response to Ant:

Lily's probably going to get a significantly worse score on this one because me and Ant I think have similar media diets. We begin:

1. In the book, 100% he is THE villain. The movie not as much. Still though, I think movie Hammond more than fit's Lily's criteria. -1 life found a way

2. We already went over this (yes I am still writing p.3 of my Magneto post.) -1 Anthro cow delivering your children

3. Kyubey's keeping the universe from ending Lily. How could you get closer to having a point than that? -1 timeline

4. See Crim's post. He does fail #2. Again though, by Lily's original parameters this was a valid entry. But I have to give her the point. +1 spider gets it's legs ripped off

5. I bet she thought this was clever. -1 gate keeper.

6.N/A

7. I don't even know what she's talking about here. -1

8. Del Toro sends his regards. -1 Nerdy fish man.

9. LILY HASN'T SEEN THE BROADWAY SMASH HIT PLANET OF THE APES THE MUSICAL, STARRING TROY MCCLURE!? For shame! -1 (has anyone else watched that movie recently? I'm not saying it's aged poorly, but like, it is profoundly unintentionally hilarious, watching it in the modern day. I know this was like, the whole thing back then-- leading men who were too cool for school, but Taylor is such a fucking asshole. Cornelius is the real hero of the film, and everyone bullies him for not matching their lunatic energy. #justiceforCornelius #GeorgeTaylorisoverparty)

10. N/A (Trekkies don't try me.)

11. N/a

12. N/A (I mean I feel like I've probably seen the whole Mummy franchise just through memes at this point but. Lily's reasoning here is fucking asinine though-- as per usually Ant us uniquely getting her goat.)

13. This is actually the first example that breaks rule #3. Sorry fam I love Elfen Lied too, but it's a bit of a hot mess. +1 dead puppy

14. Scar is a dead ringer to Lily's criteria. She straight up just didn't have a pot to piss in, so she just wrote "no." -1 Dwarf in a flask

15. For the record, my boomer mom has seen Ghost in the Shell. The movie anyway. -1 body on loan

16. I watched this as a kid but can't really remember anything about it, so, I gotta put it as N/A.

17. This might actually be the first time I've seen anyone else memtion this movie . . . But still. -1 burnt wheelchair

18. Not plus ultra. -1 for all

19. Oh fuck off Lily. Glass houses. -1 jutsu

20. Sai, Crim and Ant spoke pretty extensively about this one. -1 angry hair raise

21. This one too. -1 demon pig

22. Yes she is. -1 dad

23. See Crim's list. -1 Prisoner 24601

24. N/A

25. Read ANY book, Lily. -1 absent godly parent.

26. I've only read the first one. N/A

27. Lily's reason here is bullshit but I haven't seen Columbo either. N/A

28. Why not Lily? -1 Jimbo

29. YES SHE FUCKING IS LILY. Just because in a modern context her story is a lot more tragic doesn't mean she isn't intended to be a villain. Lily made up the rule "has a point," but if they have an iron clad one she just declares them not a villain. -1 head

30. OBJECTION! NOW YOU REMEMBER VILLAIN AND ANTAGONIST ARENT TRUE SYNONYMS FOR EACH OTHER!? -1 Lily if you could just ONCE try to engage with a media discussion honestly.

31. N/A. I'll get around to watching it.

32. Not in Dracula Untold. -1 Damn Luke Evans looks like he was cloned from Orlando Bloom. I can't tell those two apart.

33. DIFFERENT DRACULAS. HOLY SHIT. -1 Lily this rational is so piss poor it's embarrassing. Even for you.

34. N/A

35. Isn't he in Kingdom Hearts? -1 Ah Ha Ha Ha

36. Another non-surprise. -1 traveler on his way home.

37. I haven't played enough Kurby to know why Meta Knight is a sympathetic villain. N/A

38. I've played enough to know Lily's right on this one. +1 Deddeddeedeeededededeeedede

39. A) several characters on both Crim and Ants' lists have been protagonists. B) IT'S FUCKING COMMON POPCULTURE KNOWLEDGE DONKEY KONG WAS THE ANTAGONIST IN THE FIRST APPEARANCE OF BOTH MARIO AND DK. -1 Lily I'm fucking shocked you don't know this. Genuinely. That's saying something, considering it's you.

40. Solid Lily continues to be the worst one. -1 LIQUIDDDDDDDD

41. Yes she is. Her point is the magic is what keeps her fucking family safe. -1 gift

42. You'd probably like this movie actually, Lily. Not the book, but. Or maybe not, there's no incest lesbians I guess. -1 sexy tree

43. I'm going to give Lily the point to maintain consistency that mind-manipulation doesn't count as "a point." Before he put on the crown he's not really even an antagonist, so. He IS an example of a sympathetic villain, however. +1

44. THERE ARE OTHER ANIMALS ON THIS LIST. Another one who's spot on, so she can't figure out how to even pretend to argue against it. -1 Beauty who killed the beast

45. GODZILLA ISN'T LITERALLY A NUKE. -1 pop culture jokes don't substitute proper media analysis

46. The Kaiju Lily. Her name is the title of the film. It's not Ant's fault You're too lazy to Google shit. -1 Viking Relic

(Biollante would have been my personal pick for sympathetic Kaiju. And her dad. She would have broken Lily's first rule since she's probably not aware of exactly what's happened to her, but. Her father at least fits Lily's criteria. A lot of the Kaiju are sympathetic though.)

47. This is a perfect example as to why Lily's rules are ridiculous. John Kramer is, in my opinion, outrageously unjustified in what he does. He follows her rules though. Having a bad point is still having a point. How "well written" he is wildly different depending on the movie, but because he's at least well written sometimes I'm counting him. -1 foot

48. You haven't read Paradise Lost Lily. I know you haven't. -1 Satan crying for everything he's lost

49. God Lily I wish you'd actually read something for once because this is an even better example as to why your rules are a joke. -1 Facist Worm King

50. This is a specific example. -1 tears, it's a waist of good suffering.

LILY'S FINAL SCORE: 19/50

38% - F

Got wrong: 24

Got right: 2

Removing the ones I haven't seen:

19/39

48% - F

Removing the ones Lily hasn't seen:

15/37

40% - F

Removing the ones we both haven't seen:

2/26

7% - F

#lily orchard #lily orchard critical #anti lily orchard #lily peet #lorch posting #lily orchard stuff #youtube #eldrich lily #liquid orcard #anthony gramuglia

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backtothefanfiction · 11 months ago

Text

One Last Date For Christmas | PART ONE: An Arrangement At The Christmas Party

Summary: Another year, The same Christmas party and holiday hook up... or is it?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Smut (oral M & F receiving, p in v, mild dirty talk with Christmas references), Mentions of Cancer/Death, Fake Dating, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, this is basically Hallmark/Netflix Christmas movie vibes

Word Count: 5.9K+

A/N: Okay, so I've been feeling crumby lately and really need a boost, so although we took a poll and it was decided this whole story would go up as one piece at the same time, I need the motivation and have had a crumby week mentally and need a boost. So here is part 1. If you do enjoy PLEASE LEAVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I am like Tinkerbell, if I don't get attention I will die haha. But seriously my mental health needs the kind words for energy so please take a moment to share some if you like this part and not just like it. Anyway... ENJOY!!!

Another year, another fancy corporate business party Peter was obliged to attend due to his job. It had become such a regular routine over these last 7 years J. Jonah Jameson didn’t even bother asking if he was available to come anymore, just automatically emailed over the details so he could attend.

Peter couldn’t completely complain. He got free drinks and fancy food for the night. I mean in reality he got to act just like any other guest, despite the camera he had around his neck for the night. And instead of paying to be there, he was instead getting paid to be there. Sure it was only an extra couple hundred bucks, but at this time of year it really did make all the difference.

Being a freelance photographer only made him so much a year, especially when the rest of his time was spent moonlighting as the local superhero which didn’t pay a thing. Not that he couldn’t have made some money as a public figure. A couple grand here to endorse a few products. A donation of thanks or two from business owners or generous members of the community there. All of which had been options that he had turned down. That wasn’t who Spider-Man was and definitely not who he wanted Spider-Man to be. And so at almost 40 years old, this was Peter’s life.

No wife. No kids. Not even a pet, because he couldn’t commit to spending enough time at home in his tiny run down box of a studio apartment, to look after it. He sometimes brought girls home, he did have needs after all, but no matter how interested they had been in him, he’d never let himself get attached. After Gwen he would never get attached again.

The only one to ever even come close was you. He had met you 5 years ago now at this very event. Just like him, you always felt like a fish out of water at these parties, despite always being on the guest list. Your Father was one of the big business benefactors of the party and ever since the divorce you had become his regular plus one.

Just like Peter you were a chronic singleton, always too busy traveling for work to be able to sustain an actual relationship, despite your Mother trying her best every time you were home to set you up with some poor soul. She just didn’t get it. You didn’t believe in marriage anymore as most of them ended in divorce, your parents marriage and even two of your Uncle’s marriages prime examples alone; and as for children? You had decided at the age of 13 you wouldn’t have kids and no matter how many times your Mother, Grandmother or Aunt Sarah told you, you would change your mind, you hadn’t. If anything the birth of your brother’s kids had only cemented things more.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like your niece and nephew, you were just always glad you could pass them back off to your brother and his wife after a few hours of their shrieking play and demands for cookies and ice cream, while fighting over what to watch on the telly. No, you had never wanted kids and you never would. You had however always wanted to get a cat, but until you changed jobs or just simply didn’t have to travel for work anymore, that would just remain a lovely little dream for the future.

Peter always arrived to the party early. After all, he was getting paid by the hour, so the longer he was there taking photos, the more money he could claim from the Daily Bugle finance department on Monday. He aimlessly wandered around taking photos of the venue and the table settings and the odd entering guest as people arrived. He helped himself to horderves off of shiny platters and the odd glass of champagne as he worked, seamlessly floating through the crowd, formally stopping people every now and again for more posed group shots, other times just taking candid photos of people mingling. He took the occasional booming order from J. Jonah Jameson, “Hey Parker! Make sure you get a shot of me with the Mayor. Parker! Come here and take a photo of me and Mrs Perez! Parker! Take a picture of me and my wife!”

“Yes, sir.” Peter would respond with a smile. Usually you were here by now to laugh at the way he followed the head of the Daily Bugle around like his lap dog, but as of yet you still hadn’t arrived. Then a horrible thought crossed Peter’s mind, ‘what if you weren’t coming this year.’ He had seen your Father walking about, had even taken a couple of photos of him with various business partners and city officials, but as of yet there had been no sign of you.

Peter checked his watch again hoping you were just running late, but the closer it got to 8.30pm and the start of the meal portion of the night, he started to give up hope. He knew you were busy, always flying between Tokyo, Milan, London and Paris for work; but you were always usually back home for the holidays. He was just about to check his watch again when you came through the door like a whirlwind in red.

He watched you like a Spider sizing up his prey as you made a beeline for your Father. You gave him a rushed greeting and an apologetic kiss to the cheek, before you followed him and the rest of his group to their table, placed closer to the small makeshift stage that had been erected at one end of the long window lined room. He kept his focus on you as you took your seat, your father pushing your chair in for you as you turned to greet one of the other women at the table a couple seats away from you. That was, until J. Jonah Jameson’s booming voice called him away again.

“Parker! You’re over here with us!” He barked as he ushered Peter over to a table on the other side of the room. He was just able to lock eyes with you and give you a friendly smile before he took his seat. “I’ve sat you on this side so you can get the wife’s good side.” Jameson continued to say.

There was a couple of speeches and awards before the food was served. Peter was pleased to find that he was in fact in a good vantage point in which he could take pictures of the stage this year without having to move. He also had a clear sightline to you too, his lens unconsciously moving in your direction every few shots then back again.

Peter had chosen the steak and hasselback potatoes for his dinner with a rich chocolate pudding for dessert. When he finished his meal, he dismissed himself from the table, as he traditionally did, to go around the tables and take a few more candid shots of people before taking a break at the bar.

“I’ll take an old fashioned, please.” Your familiar voice suddenly came from beside him. “I’m sorry I was late.” you said as you leaned into him as if conspiratorially. “My flight got delayed.”

“Where were you coming from this time?” Peter asked as he took a sip from his own drink.

“Boston.” You said with a sigh. It definitely hadn’t been the answer he was expecting and his quizzical look at you said as much. “I was visiting my Mother. Her and her new partner Brad moved there a few months back to be closer to his grandchildren.” You explained.

“I’m guessing that means you got away with not being set up on a blind date this visit.” Peter fished, knowing your Mother’s habits and routines well after these last 5 years of annual hookups.

“You’d think so.” You said as you took a sip of your stiff drink, just to emphasize the drama of it all. “Turns out Maggie’s teacher is single and available.” you say with mock enthusiasm.

“Maggie?” Peter questions.

“One of Brad’s grandchildren.” you fill in with another sigh and eyebrow raise. “I wish she’d just give it a rest, you know?” You pause as you take another sip of your drink before you tell him, “I’m thinking of coming up with a fake boyfriend just to get her off my back. But then I know she’ll be all like ‘when do I get to meet him?’” you say doing an exaggerated impersonation of your Mother’s voice.

“Yeah, I think about doing the same thing with Aunt May sometimes, but I’d hate lying to her.” Peter confided.

“How is your Aunt?” you ask. The one blessing of only seeing each other once a year meant there were always things for you both to talk about and catch up on.

You watch as his face falls, his eyes turning sad as he looks into his drink. “Umm, they’re not good actually. We found out this year she has stage 4 breast cancer. The doctor said this is probably gonna be her last Christmas.” He struggles to look at you.

“Peter, I’m so sorry.” you say, mustering up as much empathy as you can as your hand instinctively comes to rub at his back. “Is there nothing they can do?”

“They said they could try a few different treatments but it wasn’t guaranteed to work and May ultimately decided that… Well she said that she’s lived to a good age and if this is how she is meant to go, this is how she is meant to go.” He paused, blinking hard as he continued to stare at the liquid in his glass. “She said I was a grown man and didn’t need her anymore.” He let out a small unsatisfied chuckle that wreaked of denial, before he finally looked at you again. “I just… I just feel guilty, you know?”

“What for?” You asked him.

“It’s just. I know she was always holding onto this hope that I’d meet someone. That I’d end up finding someone and settling down. Live a life like her and Ben did.”

“But that’s not what you want from your life?” you question him now unsure, as you finally sit yourself on the bar stool next to him. “I mean, if you wanted that, isn’t that what you would have done? Gone out, met a girl. Settled down. You can’t be someone you’re not just to please others.”

“But it was what I wanted.” he suddenly confides. “And that’s why I feel guilty because she knows that. When I first introduced her to Gwen, I said, ‘that’s the girl I’m going to marry Aunt May.’” he says with gusto, like he’s saying it exactly how he had said it to her, before his body deflates again.

“But things change. People change. We’re allowed to change Peter.”

“I know, but… she just, I know she never gave up hope.”

“You know what they say about hope?” You say.

“It breeds eternal misery,” he bristles.

“No.” You chastise. “It’s like the sun, if you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night.”

Peter’s brow furrows as his head turns back to you. “Did you just quote Star Wars to me?”

“Princess Leia.” you smile.

“God I love you.” he says casually with a smile.

“I know.” you continue to beam back before you raise your glass towards him. “For Aunt May?”

“For Aunt May.” he agrees before clinking your glass with his own.

You both creep away a little before midnight, catching a cab back to your apartment. You always went back to your apartment. Peter said it was because he wanted you to be comfortable and said it was more homelier than his place, but the truth was, Peter was ashamed to take you back to his own apartment. It looked like a dingy run down squat or some really dodgy student housing in comparison to your place.

He didn’t want to kid himself, he knew he was definitely punching above his weight a little when it came to you, not because he necessarily thought he was ugly, but more simply because you had more money than him. You’d never made him feel inferior for it. In fact you’d always wanted to help him by offering to put him in contact with some galleries so he could get more of his work out there. Maybe make some extra cash by selling some of his photos as art for the rich and wealthy, not just to a local paper, but Peter had never had the guts to take you up on the offer. It would make him feel indebted to you and throw the balance of your relationship off even more than it somewhat already was.

“Did you choose red because it’s my favourite color or just for the festivities?” He nibbled on your ear as his fingers ran across the velvet skirt of the dress, dragging it up to your thigh as he pressed himself against your back.

You hadn’t bothered turning on any other lights than the Christmas tree, before you stopped to take a moment to look out your window at the city. Christmas in New York was your favorite time of year. Every year to mark the occasion, you would go down to Rockefeller Plaza, grab a hot chocolate and watch as they turned on the lights. As kids you would go ice skating there. Less so now you were adults, your brother and his own kids had their own tradition of skating in Central Park on Christmas Eve, but some years you would still partake.

“I chose it for the season.” You sighed, your body relaxing back into him, head resting on his shoulder as he kissed his way down your neck.

“My festive little elf.” He teased as his fingers continued to work up the hem of your dress until they could reach your panties, which you had in fact bought new and chosen with Peter in mind.

“I even brought presents.” You plaid along teasingly.

Your breathing hitched slightly as the pads of his fingers dragged over your lace covered clit.

“Really? For me?” You could feel him smiling into the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“Mhmm.” You hum. “Maybe, you should unwrap me.” You tease back.

“Mmm.” He hums back deeply in delight as he turns you around to face him. The hand that was just ghosting at your centre, now wraps firmly around the back of your neck, as he smashes your rouge stained lips into his.

His other hand begins pawing at the velvety fabric of your dress again before he’s pulling his face away from you, his grin growing too big and you can’t help but give a satisfying smile back as you notice how your lipstick has transferred from your lips to his, marking him as yours for the evening. Your hand reaches for his and you begin taking steps backwards, pulling him in the direction of your bedroom and awaiting bed.

Your room is a slight mess from your hasty packing before you left for Boston and your equally hasty unpacking upon your return. You’d just had enough time to get home and get changed, rushing your make up and hair, before you left to go to the party. Your suitcase lay open on the floor, some of the contents lay spilling out from where you had hunted around for your makeup bag. The little pink bag from Victoria Secret sat upside down on the floor beside it. Peter spies it the moment he enters the room.

He feigns shock, “Did you buy this for me?” He teases as he picks up the bag.

“Don’t get too excited Parker, they were having a sale.”

“I don’t care.” He says with a boyish grin, despite his 39 years of age. “Come here and let me see.”

You smile at him as you begin to step closer to him before calling out into the room, “Alexa, turn on mood lighting.”

His eyebrows raise as a lamp in the corner of the room turns on, illuminating your bedroom in a magenta hue. “Mood lighting huh?”

“Do you wanna be able to see your Christmas gift or not?” You sass back with a hand on your hip.

“I mean, I’ve always thought of you as my Christmas present, regardless of what you wear.” He says as his fingers begin to grab for you again and pull you into him.

“Next year I won’t bother then.”

“Oh no, you’ve made it a thing now. I’m gonna expect this, every- single- year- from now on.” He says between kisses across your cheek and down your neck and upper chest. You begin to giggle and shriek in delight as his lips gently nibble at your skin. “Mmm. Come on then. Let’s see what you got for me.” He says ripping himself away from you so you have the space to reach behind you for the zipper to your dress.

The dress begins to relax its hold on your body, slowly exposing the black strapless lace bra to Peter before you slide the dress down the rest of your body to show off the matching lacey bikini briefs. You carefully step out of the puddle that now is the red velvet dress on your floor, your ankles only wobbling slightly as you still stand in your heels for him to take in the full sight.

He pauses for a moment silently taking you in before he gives a small nod. “Yes. Yes, this will do. Excuse me a moment while I go and write my thank you letter to San-“

“Peter.” You whine.

“Oh come on, don’t be bratty with me now.” He says jokingly as he steps closer and wraps you in his arms again.

“I thought you liked it when I was bratty.” You joke back as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Nope. You become completely intolerable and insufferable and…” You roll your eyes as he continues to list words, but nonetheless, begin to snake your arms from around his neck, trailing them down his chest as you begin to get down on your knees before him.

You begin to work open the button of his jeans, freeing his semi hard cock from its confines. He only stops his fake monologue about you acting like a brat when you take his length into your mouth and his hand involuntarily reaches out for the side of your head as he sighs.

The only sounds that fill the room now are his small gasps and moans and your saliva slick lips around his cock. One of your hands braces itself on his thigh, whilst the other works the rest of his shaft your mouth won’t reach.

You pull off him with a sloppy pop of your lips and Peter groans before you begin to circle the tip of his cock with your tongue and he jumps away from you with sensitivity, suddenly worried he’d blow his load too soon if you continue like that. It makes you giggle.

His fingers reach around the flesh of your bicep and he pulls you up off the floor before pulling you into him, his head nuzzling into your neck, lips and teeth nibbling and teasing at your skin and driving you crazy. He’d worked out that you liked that on the second Christmas you had slept together. He loved the way it made you sigh but also giggle and shriek when the sensation grew too much.

“Ahhh Peter.” you cried out with a high pitched moan.

He reluctantly broke himself away from you and the intoxicating smell of your favorite perfume so you could latch your mouth onto his, a satisfied smile struggling to be contained on your lips. He can’t help but smile back.

“Peter!” you shriek and giggle as he reaches around to pick you up and drop you back onto the covers of your bed.

Your hands get lost in his hair as he begins kissing his way down your chest. Your stomach involuntarily twitches as his lips move across it and the way his hands reach for your hips to forcefully hold you in place sends you reeling, a wave of arousal soaking your panties. His lips skip over your underwear, instead kissing at the inside of your thigh as his hands begin to relax on your hips, his fingers curling under the waistband of your underwear, ready to pull them down.

As he removes you of your underwear, he also takes the opportunity to rid himself of the flattering black long sleeved top he’d been wearing all evening. The removal of his shirt reveals a silver necklace that had been hiding beneath the shirt and the way the chain hangs off his neck has you biting your lip. It is so rare to see a man wear jewelry so you never realized the effect the sight had on you before, but there's something about the connotations and hidden meaning to it, his choice and confidence to wear it, makes you want to rub your thighs together in want.

His fingers are suddenly teasing at your entrance though and its almost enough to take the edge off, or it would be if his finger hadn’t stopped at the first knuckle of his middle finger. You realize he’s only done it so he can spread the arousal that was already leaking out of your cunt around between your folds and across your clit so he can then go in and lick it all off. Your head falls back into the pillows of your bed as you sigh out his name in relief.

You can feel the focus he has radiating off of him without even looking as he begins to expertly lick up from your entrance, swirl his tongue around your clit and then back down again as he draws moans, ever increasing in volume, from your lips. You found out very early on in your yearly dalliances that he was an expert with that tongue, making you cum not once, not twice, but three times just from his tongue alone, when you told him no one had ever actually gotten you off that way before.

You could feel your first climax of the night building low within you, your muscles growing tight, clit growing extra sensitive as your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, encouraging him and guiding him and not allowing him to pull away until you finished. The pressure of his tongue grew firmer and you ground your clit down against it until that tight thread within you snapped, your hips stuttering as pleasure rippled through you. He held tightly onto you, lapping up everything you gave him and helping you ride it out until you were actively pushing him away from you. He gave your bare thighs a small satisfactory slap as he gave you his smug tight lipped smile that seemed to say ‘another happy customer’ and you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle before turning your head and trying to hide the ear to ear smile that was on your face.

You were able to compose yourself as he shifted from the bed to shuck himself fully off the rest of his clothes, his jeans joining your red dress in a puddle on the floor, before he carefully lifted the necklace off over his head and placed it on your bedside table. You shifted yourself over on the bed as he came down to rest beside you, his hand reaching out to pull your face to him as he gave you a kiss before he encouraged you to climb up on top of him. Your lips didn’t part from his as you straddled his waist, your cunt involuntarily rubbing itself along his hard length as your tongues intermingled with one another.

His fingers reached round to grab a hold of your ass cheeks, squeezing the flesh as he encouraged you to grind down harder. You moaned and gasped against his lips at the drag of your clit across his skin. Your open mouth before him allowed him to reach out for your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth making you moan louder, before he began to trail kisses down your chin and neck. You closed your eyes, getting lost in the feeling and the sounds of your own voice. It sent a new flood of arousal between your legs and you could feel Peter grinning against your skin as you worked your slick over his length.

You paused only long enough to reach over to your chest of drawers, pulling a box of condoms out of the second drawer. The position allowed Peter to attach his mouth over your breasts, his teeth biting at them over the lace bra. You reached behind you to unclasp it and take it off as you sat upright, Peter’s hands resting patiently on the tops of your thighs as he waited for you to then open the condom. You held out the torn open packet for him to take the condom and start rolling it down onto his length as you reached back over the side of the bed to drop the wrapper in the bin.

You shifted your legs back slightly as you recentred yourself, one hand balancing on the bed, the other on his bare chest as he lined himself up with your entrance. He glided the tip of his cock against your folds, covering the tip of his cock with your slick before he began to encourage you back onto it. The slow fill of his cock inside you had you letting out a long sigh of satisfaction, your eyes falling closed, head tilting back as you savored the feeling.

It had been a slow year. Despite a brief hook up with a guy over the summer after a night out with friends and a quick tinder hookup in your hotel in Rome (where the guy spoke barely a lick of English), your only companion had been your old reliable rabbit toy. You’d be lying if you hadn’t been counting down the days to tonight the whole time you had been visiting your Mother. When your flight had been delayed, it was the thought of missing out on your one good and guaranteed fuck of the year that had stressed you out. Now it all seemed worth it.

Peter started slowly, his hips pushing up into you at an agonizing pace as he guided you down and your hips back with every thrust, the contours of his cock dragging agonizingly slowly across every sensitive spot inside you, working you up gradually to another earth shattering climax. Your body bowed over him as you let out small gasps of praise into his forehead, your fingers gripping tightly into the sheets either side of his head. You felt one of his hands run soothingly up your back and it sent shivers down your spine that only added to the sensation building in between your legs.

“Peter.” you sighed against him, as you pressed your forehead into his, your eyes closed in concentration as you chased that feeling inside you.

“What is it? What do you need?” his voice gently calls to you as he moves the hand that was caressing your back round behind your neck, pulling your lips down to his for a kiss.

“More. I need more.” you say equally as gently back into his lips.

You feel his head give a small nod in acknowledgment before he seals the deal with a kiss, as his thrusts begin to grow quicker and firmer in pace. It makes him hit something deep inside you that has you crying out. Your eyes fly open, desperate to lock onto his. He looks up at you with such beauty and gratitude. It makes you want to kiss him again and you do, your tongue licking deeply and slowly into his mouth in rhythm with his thrusts.

Your thighs shudder slightly as the sensation between your legs changes and you know your cumming again but the feeling of his cock moving between your legs doesn’t stop. It works you through the high and he still doesn’t stop. Instead his thrusts grow fast as he searches for his own release. You brace yourself, holding yourself over him as he just takes what he wants. If he holds out long enough you think you can get out one more orgasm of your own.

You balance yourself on one arm as your other hand reaches between your legs, swirling rapidly at your clit as you push yourself against his length, feeling every sensation of his rapid thrust. Peter grunts in response at the sensation of your fluttering cunt and it forces him to find one final push, his hips sputtering only slightly before he increases his angle and speed one last time, then he’s embracing you.

His arms wrap tightly around you as your final climax soaks his cock. Your head is buried into his neck as you try to shut out the overstimulation for just a few more strokes of his cock before he stills, his length pulsating as he finishes, only adding to the sensitivity between your legs making you squirm. He’s quick to push you off him as you do, his own sensitivity unable to take the feeling.

You both pause breathing deeply as you come down before he gives you a small tap and you flop onto your side on the bed. He quickly gets up, kicking his legs out to disperse the blood around them as his cock softens. You close your eyes to revel in the last dregs of your orgasm as he goes to your adjoining ensuite to sort himself out.

He takes a little longer than usual and you begin to frown, but then you hear the flush of the toilet and the door opening and you settle. You quickly get up, flashing him a smile as you hobble to your bathroom with legs like a newborn calf. Usual he’d let out a proud little chuffing laugh but this year he doesn’t.

When you return to see him sat on the side of the bed in his underwear, his fingers reaching to fix the necklace he had taken off back over his head and around his neck, you realize he looks distracted. “What is it? What’s wrong?” you ask him as you climb over the bed to your rightful side and slip between the covers.

His head turns, eyebrows raising as if he’s only just noticed you’re back in the room. “Huh?” he says. “Oh, nothing.”

“Really?” you say as he shuffles himself round to face you, put he doesn’t get under the covers. Peter doesn’t sleep over. He stays for a debrief and a chat for maybe another hour, some years two, but always leaves to return to his own apartment and bed.

“It’s just,” he says as he places an arm under his head as he gets himself comfortable, “I was just thinking about what you said earlier.”

“What did I say earlier?” you reply as you shift into a similar position to his, facing him. You look like two kids at a slumber party who have moved so close to each other so you can whisper really quietly and not disturb the others who are sleeping.

“About pretending to have a boyfriend to get your Mom off your case.”

You frown at him, “Yeah, but it’d never work because she’d want to meet him.”

“Okay, yeah.” he says, but his tone isn’t one of defeat, it instead says ‘wait, hear me out’. “But what if you had someone to take home and pretend to be said boyfriend?”

You’re still confused. “What are you trying to get at here Parker?” You suddenly sit up, placing distance between the two of you as a realization hits you. “Wait, this isn’t you asking me out or trying to be my boyfriend is it? You know I don’t really do the whole dating thing. We have our arrangement and that's-”

“No. NO. Would you just hear me out.” he speaks over you and cuts you off as he too sits up defensively. “Look, I just thought we could come to some sort of arrangement.” You’re silent as he pauses and takes a deep breath and you wait for him to continue. “Okay.” he says, his hands folding in his lap, “This is probably gonna be my Aunt May’s last Christmas.” he says and the implication of his words make you bristle. He struggles to look at you, but your eyes remain fixed on him so he know that you are listening and paying attention, even if his words are starting to make you uncomfortable. “I don’t want her to die thinking I’m gonna spend the rest of my life alone, you know? I mean,” he sighs, collecting his thoughts before he continues, “I don’t want her to die without hope.”

“Okay.” you acknowledge quietly as you follow his words.

“So I was thinking, what if- just for this christmas,” he emphasizes, “what if we pretend to you know, actually date. Come the New Year we go our separate ways as normal, no strings attached, but you know, just to get our families off our backs so we can live our chosenly single lives.” He screws up his face a little at the word chosenly, which he’s all but sure he’s made up but figures he’s gotten his point across.

“So, we pretend to date for the holidays to get our parents off our backs?” you frown, checking you’ve got his proposal right.

“Yeah. You’d come for Christmas Eve dinner with my Aunt and I’ll…” his voice trails off as he wracks his brain for an equal solution for you.

“You’ll come to Boston with me for my Mother’s New Years party.” You fill in for him.

He hesitates a second realizing he’d actually need to travel and stay with you and your family to make things even on your side of things, but the thought of letting May die thinking he’s going to be lonely forever, has his stomach turning more so he hastily agrees. “Fine, but-” he interjects, knowing a single day with his Aunt for a supposedly 2-3 day trip with your family isn’t a fair exchange, “if my Aunt is still with us in February, you have to stop by on Valentines day.”

“I thought you just said we go our separate ways come January.” You respond.

“Yes, but one meal with my Aunt in comparison to a multi day trip to Boston is hardly an equal-”

“Fine. Fine.” You concede with your hands raised.

He relaxes slightly as you come to an agreement. “You wanna shake hands on it or something?” he offers. You roll your eyes, your fingers reaching for the pillow you’d pulled into your lap to nervously fiddle with instead, picking it up and throwing it at him. “Hey.” he jokingly exclaims as he holds his hands up to catch the pillow before it hits him in the face. “Is that any way to treat your new boyfriend?” he deadpans.

“Uuuhhgg.” you scoff back with another eye roll but you can’t help the tiny smirk that creeps into the corner of your mouth.

I'm going to upload the other parts of this mini series on the dates that match up with the story (Christmas Eve, New Years Eve), if you want to be added to the list below, please put it in writing. All current tags have been taken from likes, reblogs or comments from other posts about this series, if you wish to be removed, just let me know. (I had a few more names who liked posts but it wouldn't let me tag you, apologies, I'm not sure how to fix that but I hope this finds you anyway.) Once again if you did like this, please don't just like it, respond with some words of your own to give me a boost.

@sincericida @tarzinnia @raindropsandteaandtears @xenasolos @dil3mma @ms-wild-card-56 @shivani1902

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #Christmas Peter Parker story #tasm peter parker imagine #christmas imagine #holidate #fake dating #Peter Parker smut #one last date for christmas #andrew peter parker #andrew garfield peter parker

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 8 months ago

Text

Carpet Burn

Benny Miller x Jack Mojave • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • ko-fi •

Summary: Santi's odd cousin comes for a visit.

A/N: This is just crack. I am so sorry. I'm using my normal tag list but please feel free to just ignore this (because I think the only person whose cup of tea this is, is me.) This is for @triplefrontier-anniversary event. Also, I blame @romanarose completely for this, as I made a joke about writing Jack as Santi's cousin ages ago.

Warnings: overuse of italics, oral sex (m receiving), swearing, I have not proofread this (I’m so sorry I just can’t look at it anymore), please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 1835

________________________________

“Look, I know he’s weird.” Santi said, shutting the fridge door and holding out a beer for Frankie.

“Really weird.” Will added and Santi gave him a look.

“But he’s family.” Santi stressed, sighing a little.

“How is he related to you again?” Frankie took the bottle with a nod of gratitude.

He crossed his arms and shrugged. “He’s my cousin.”

“I thought he was your second cousin?” Will frowned.

“I thought he was your cousin once removed?” Frankie drank a gulp of the beer and pulled a disgusted face at Santi, he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well, I don’t actually know.”

“You don’t know?” Will put his feet up on the coffee table, leaning back to look at Santi and Frankie in the kitchen.

Benny gave his brother a look and pointed to his feet. “Bro.”

“What?”

“I don’t know if he’s my fucking second cousin or cousin how many times removed or what the fuck, kay?” Santi came and sat down next to Will, swatting at his legs.

“Ow.” Will laughed, “that hurt.”

“Good. Keep your feet off my table.”

“Look you made me take my shoes off, so I think-”

“Just because you're a savage who wears outside shoes in the house,” Frankie said, sitting on the armchair, “and who puts their feet up in other people’s furniture-”

“See?” Benny hissed.

“-without asking,” Frankie continued.

“It’s normal to wear shoes in the house.” Will countered.

“House shoes.” Santi said.

“Yeah, house shoes. Not outside ones.” Frankie took another swig of the beer.

“Outside shoes.” Will tutted, he turned to his brother. “Help me out here?”

“If you share a great grandparent he’s your first cousin once removed, if he’s the kid of your first cousin once removed he’s your second cousin.” Benny said.

Will pulled a face. “Why do you know that?”

“Why don’t you?”

“I-”

“Doesn’t fucking matter, he’s just visiting okay?” Santi shrugged, crossing his arms and sighing.

“He staying with you?” Frankie asked,

“Hell no.”

Will snorts.

“I don’t think he’s that weird.” Benny picked at the label of his bottle. “I kinda like him.”

“Yeah, well, you only met him once,” Will cut in. “Me and Frankie have met him like 5, 6 times? Dude’s insane, always causing everyone brother.”

“He’s quirky.” Ben shrugged.

Will pulled a face. “Fish, isn’t he fucking insane?”

“I’m not getting involved.” Frankie took a long swig of his beer.

“Hey, that is my cousin, you know?” Santi gave Will a glare.

“Sorry, Pope.”

“Nah,” Santi grinned, “he is fucking insane.”

“You guys are mean.” Benny teased.

“Yeah, well, you love him so much, why don’t you hang out with Jack?” Will nudged him in the side.

“You know what, I will.”

And that was how Benny ended up hanging out with Jack by himself.

The original plan had been to grab a beer at the bar on 12th. But that had turned into four, then five, then six, then…

The guy was off his rocker, that was for sure. Benny knew that, but he kinda liked it too. He never quite knew where the conversation was going. Jack would throw in some quote from a philosopher one second, and then would talk about a tennis game the next.

“I don’t really watch tennis,” Ben finished his seventh beer, eighth? “You watch football?”

“Nah, too commercial, I’m not into all that capitalist shit.” Jack motioned to the bartender to bring over another set of drinks.

“Tennis isn’t commercial?”

“Not how I watch it brother, I only watch it in French.” He taps the side of his head. “They can’t advertise to me if I don’t know the language, you feel me?”

Benny paused, nodding and then frowning, “Why don’t you do that for the football then?”

Jack shook his head, “not the same brother, not the same. They got a way, you know?”

Benny did not know.

“A way of still getting into your psyche.” Jack tapped the bar to punctuate his sentence. “I’m not having it. Commercials are capitalism and ‘Capitalism is a social system based on the exploitation of the majority by a minority for their private profit.’” He took a sip of his beer. “Jean-Paul Sartre said that.”

“I thought that was Marx?”

Jack laughed long and hard, smacking Benny affectionately on the back. Benny smiled, his cheeks warm. His expression was infectious.

“Hoo-wee!” He wiped his eyes, “I thought I’d got you there for sure, kiddo. Brother, ah, for sure.” He grinned. “But you got me, caught old Jack didn’t ya?”

Benny smiled again, “nah, just, you know. Marx is pretty famous, I guess.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, brother, don’t sell yourself low if you gotta sell yourself at all. See, most people wouldn’t know, most people wouldn’t care.” He quickly moved his hand over his head, complaining it with a ‘zoom’ sound, “most common folk, straight over their heads, brother, or they just would be too Tiny Timmy Timid to say a peep.”

Benny nodded, a little bewitched by Jack when he talked. Like some snake charmer, slowly lulling him into a hypnotic state. “Well, you know.” Heat rose to his cheeks that he told himself was from the alcohol. “Guess I haven’t been hit so much in the head that I’ve forgotten everything.”

Jack nodded, taking another drink. “Very impressive all that fighting of yours, very impressive. But you could teach old Jacky a thing or two, couldn’t you? A thing or two about wrestling around.”

“Well, erm, I-”

“Course you could brother,” Jack patted him on the back again. He left his hand there for a moment too long, trailing down his spine instead of moving away.

“Yeah, sure.” Benny swallowed a little nervously. “So, erm, what’s your opinion on shoes on in the house?”

That was how he ended up back at where Jack was staying. The older man insisting that he ‘showed Benny Boy the house shoe rule in person’.

And, well, it would be rude to say no, wouldn’t it?

“It’s a nice place,” Benny said, taking off his shoes by the front door. “Air BnB?”

“Nah,” Jack shook his head. “I don’t go in for all that, fine when it’s people renting their house because they’re on holiday themselves or something, sure. But not when it’s just jumped up landlords buying up properties.”

“Erm, yeah.” He hadn’t really answered the question. Benny wobbled a little as he took off his trainer, the alcohol buzzing through his system making him pleasantly warm.

“Woah, hey there little brother,” Jack moved quickly to him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder and one hand on his waist. “Gonna fall if you’re not careful.”

“Nah, I’m okay.” He smiled.

Jack tutted. “Not at all, your my guest. Can’t have you falling and spilliting your pretty head on the floor can I?”

Benny frowned, completely missing the ‘pretty’ comment, “it’s carpet?”

Jack laughed loudly. “It sure is… carpet burn then.” He grinned, his eyes trailing over Benny’s face. “Only want that on the knees, you know?”

“On your knees?”

“Yeah…” Jack smiled, darting his tongue out to drag it along his bottom lip. “Let me should you, hmm?”

“Erm, okay, yeah…?” Benny let Jack lead him, still holding onto his waist, to the sofa in the living room. Let him press him down onto the cushions. Let Jack sink to the door between his knees.

He wasn’t stupid. It’s just that… it almost seemed impolite to ask him to stop. And who was Benny really to refuse a blow job when the oputinity arose?

Part of him wished he wasn’t already hard when Jack palmed him through his jeans, wish he had made him work for it. But the other, much louder part, was already desperate to have his soft looking lips around his cock.

He unzipped Benny’s jeans slowly, glancing up at the younger man and giving him plenty of oppuinities to tell him to stop, fuck off, or move away.

Benny stayed still, breathing hard through his nose as Jack carefully pulled him free and ran his hand up and down his hot length for a moment.

“You ever had a guy suck you off?”

“A few times.”

Jack hummed and nodded. “Good.”

Benny barely had a moment to register what he had said before he licked a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling his tongue over the head before dipping down and taking him into his mouth.

Benny shuddered, letting out a painfully loud sigh at the warmth of Jack’s mouth, at how he sucked just enough to truly ignite a fire under his skin, but not enough to truly ease that ache.

He lifted his head up, swirling his tongue over his balls before he traced the large vein on the underside of his dick and slipped him back into his warm and waiting mouth.

Benny gasped, his thighs twitching as the pleasure in his lower stomach began to grow. He instinctively grabbed hold of the back of Jack’s head, pulling at his hair and pushing him down lower.

Jack hummed, chucking and the vibrations ran along Benny’s cock as he followed the directions and sank lower, the older man’s hands pressed to Ben’s inner thighs to keep him spread wide.

Benny tried to fight the urge to buck up into his mouth, chasing more of that intoxicating heat. But he couldn’t help himself, his stomach muscles twitching as he tried to stay still. Jack’s firm hold stopped him from getting too far though as he kept up his slow and tortuous pace. He let his salvia pool down, completely covering Benny’s cock as he sank lower, and lower and-

Benny cried out, swearing under his breath in a haze as he hit the back of Jack’s throat and went further still. “Shit, shit, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pulled on his hair, pushing him deeper, his back bending off the sofa. “Holy fuck, please, Jesus,” mindless words tumbled out of his mouth as Jack started to pick up the pace, fucking him in earnest.

Sparks of pleasure ran along Benny’s spine, pooled in his stomach and overrode any other thought. He groaned loudly, throwing his head back against the cushions and squirming against the pleasure.

He tried to pull him back a little to warn him, “Jack, fuck, Jack, I’m gonna-”

But the older man didn’t let up, taking him as deep as he possibly could.

“Fuck!” Benny sobbed, his hips stuttering, legs shaking as he spurted down Jack’s throat, coming harder than he could ever remember.

Jack slowed, but kept working him over, prolonging his orgasm until he pulled back fully and grinned.

Benny breathed hard, sweat beading on his forehead as he slumped back onto the sofa, blissed out and boneless.

“How about I get you a glass of water, brother, and then we go again?” Jack smiled.

Benny raised an eyebrow at him.

“I mean, I haven’t actually got carpet burn. Yet.”

____________________________________________

Thank you for reading! (If you've got this far, please pat yourself on the back Jack style.)

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