#i gotta draw fish more its so soothing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlestarofthewest · 4 years ago

Note

God your writing is incredible. Would you consider possibly writing male reader/deputy arthur, maybe featuring a pair of handcuffs or something of the sort?

Thank you for the praise, love! :) I actually squealed back when I first read this request because I have a thing for Arthur with his little star. I hope you don’t mind I made him sheriff instead of a deputy. I kept the handcuffs though :D

Title: Behind Bars | Word Count: 4444 | Rating: Explicit (18+!!!)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x male reader

Tags: handjob, blowjob, anal sex (what can I say, they’re going to town)

You always love coming to a new town. There's new people, new shops, and new opportunities, and all of it is just up for grabs if you know how to do it.

Tonight, it's too late to do much, so you decide to head for the saloon and get a feeling for the locals. After hitching your horse outside, you walk in as inconspicuous as possible. You only use one of the double doors, barely pushing it, your head drawn low but with most of your face still visible.

Over the years, you learned a thing or two about earning people's trust. Acting like a withered traveler who's only looking for work and a hot meal is often the best way to go. Just like you planned, a few eyes turn your way, but the people immediately lose interest.

You approach the bartender and ask for some drink and food before settling down in a corner. You determine that there might be even a few prospects for some naughty fun later on, once the decent guests go home, and the rest have some drinks in them.

After finishing your meal, you get yourself a beer, trying to decide which guy to hit on when the doors of the saloon open. The newcomer is tall, with broad shoulders, his hat covering his face. On his way to the bar, a few people nod or give him a small wave, so he must be one of the locals.

The stranger heads right for the bar, and as he leans on it, you get a nice look at his backside. His jeans sit tight in all the right places, and his shirt clings to him in a way that makes you think about scratching your nails down his whole back.

Without even thinking about it, you make your way to the bar, flanking the stranger to get a better look at him. He pushed his hat up, and while he looks a little weathered, you can't deny that you find him attractive. He's got full lips and a sharp cut jaw that's covered with a nice stubble. You surely wouldn't mind rubbing your face against his while doing some other enjoyable things.

Somehow, the other guys you considered before seem out of the question now. You want this one. At first, you try to come up with a line that could start a conversation with him, but then the stranger does you a big favor. He moves away from the bar, coming your way, and you step in his path in precisely the right moment.

You both collide, and out of surprise, the stranger drops his bottle while you cling to the bar to keep upright. "I'm so sorry," you mumble, your eyes drawn to the shards on the floor, "I didn't see you there."

"It's alright," the stranger says in a calm, deep voice, "it's just a beer."

The game you're playing is always risky. Instead of some fun behind the saloon, it's easy to end up with a black eye. It seems you got extra lucky today.

"Let me buy you a new one," you say, looking at the stranger for the first time. "Please?"

"Sure, if you want to."

"Of course, it's my fault after all," you say while waving the bartender over. "Please, join me."

You order a new beer for the stranger, and he accepts it with a nod before leaning against the bar next to you. "You're not from here."

It's not a question, but you still feel like the stranger is fishing for more information.

"No, I just got into town," you say honestly, right before launching into your perfectly crafted lie. "The farm I've been working on for years got sold when the owner died. Since then, I've been traveling around, looking for work."

The stranger takes a big swig of his beer before stepping back and looking you up and down like a horse he'd like to buy at the stables.

"I know most of the farmers around here. I could ask around if someone needs a hand."

"That would be great," you say with a smile, but it's hard to stay in the role of poor farmhand with the stranger's eyes still on you.

"What are you good at?" the stranger asks. "Gotta sell you somehow, after all."

You know that he's asking because of the work, but the way he looks at you implies so much more. Maybe it's time for you to go on the offensive.

"Lots of things, actually," you say, holding the stranger's gaze. "I'm most handy with a good tool, and I sure know how to ride."

A small smile plays around the stranger's lips, and he holds out his hand to you. "Arthur Callahan."

"Y/N," you say, holding his hand way longer than necessary. Arthur has a warm, firm handshake, and you wouldn't mind having those hands on you.

"Tell you what," Arthur says, "we meet back here tomorrow, and I'll let you know if somebody needs help."

"Thank you so much, that's great."

Arthur nods, taking another swig of his beer before eyeing you up and down again. "Now that business is out of the way, how about we move on to pleasure?"

A tingling feeling rushes all over your body. You had a feeling that Arthur wasn't the type to play around, but it's been a while since you've met someone who cut to the chase like that.

"Pleasure sounds great," you say. "What do you have in mind?"

"We could go out back, and you show me how good you really are with a tool."

You take a sip from your drink before walking past Arthur, your shoulder brushing against his. "Come on then."

By the steps behind you, you can tell that Arthur is following you immediately, and your heart beats faster. You've rarely gotten lucky so quickly, and Arthur surely is a treat compared to your usual partners.

Outside, you walk around the saloon, and Arthur's hand ends up warm on your back. You make it into the nearby trees before he turns you around and you don't waste time either, taking your first taste of Arthur's lips.

It's been a while since you had some fun, and you don't mind Arthur's hands roaming over your body. He's not shy to grab you wherever he wants, and you make good on your promise. Going down on your knees, you open Arthur's pants and pull out his cock, pleased with what you find.

Arthur leans back against the tree with a groan when you take your first taste, licking along his length. With your hand massaging his balls, you suck him into your mouth, your tongue teasing him with little twists.

At first, Arthur lets you do the work, moaning quietly with his eyes closed, but you can sense his desperation. He puts his hand on the back of your head but makes a little circle with his thumb to reassure you that he won't push you.

Not that he has to. You know you're good with your mouth, and having a guy squirm and moan because of you, gets you harder than anything else. Arthur does a great job with that. Harsh breaths make their way out of him, and when you swallow him down all the way, his fingers scrape along your neck.

"Goddammit, boy," he groans, holding you in place while his hips buck.

His grip isn't so tight that you couldn't escape, but being put in your place like this has you moan around Arthur's cock, your own dick twitching in your pants. Arthur runs his fingers along your neck now, almost soothing, drawing back a little.

"Got something for you," he says, giving you a way to escape.

There have been guys where you picked that option, but right now, you want all of Arthur, so you push forward. You take him deep into your throat, and Arthur curses, his fingers clawing against your skin as he comes. You eagerly swallow, and Arthur leans back against the tree with a deep sigh.

"Alright," he says, looking down at you when you give him free, "you do know how to handle a tool."

"Told you," you say with a grin.

Arthur puts himself away while you get to your feet, thinking that you're done, but suddenly Arthur pulls you into another kiss. He turns you both around, pushing you against the tree, and his hand finds its way to the bulge in your pants.

"I think I can find some work for you," he says with a grin, and you wish you could talk back, but his touch feels too good.

Arthur takes care of your pants, and seconds later, you're in his tight grip. He's even pushier than before, giving you barely an inch to move while stroking your cock. Usually, you're not much of a pushover, so it's even more intriguing how Arthur handles you.

He leans in close to bite and kiss along your neck, his hand always in motion. It surprises you that he actually takes the time after he already got off. You had a few guys who couldn't get away fast enough once they were done.

Arthur is the complete opposite. He takes his sweet time teasing you, and you feel like he enjoys watching you squirm as much as you do. You moan against his lips, loving that he kisses you at all, and soon, you claw your fingers into his shirt while you roll your hips to get more friction.

Finally, Arthur's done with the teasing. He strokes you with a clear goal in mind, and you don't care to hold back any longer. You let your arousal take over, drifting quickly to the point of no return until you have to lean back against the tree behind you when your hips stutter, and you come in Arthur's hand.

He leans in to kiss you, still carefully petting you until you come down from your high.

"You're pretty handy with a tool yourself," you say, and Arthur chuckles.

"See you tomorrow then," he says before giving you another quick kiss. You feel like he'll definitely have some work for you, one way or the other.

-------

After being with Arthur, you wouldn't have minded a good night's sleep, but a man has to eat, after all, so you find yourself at the back of a huge farmhouse a few hours later. You heard some guys at the saloon talking about the wealthy owners who once again left for the city to meet up with other rich people and congratulate each other on their wealth.

Judging by the house, there's a good chance there might be some money in it for you, maybe also some jewelry to fence. You're about to crack open the back door when something hard digs into your back. A gun.

"I'm sorry, darling," a familiar deep voice says. "I can't let you do this. Turn around."

You do as you're told and find Arthur pointing a gun at you. You're about to offer him a part of the loot when your eyes fall on a shiny little item at his chest. A sheriff's star.

"You in law enforcement?" you ask in surprise. "Who would have thought."

"I'm not surprised you're here," Arthur says. "I've rarely seen someone who had 'thief' written all over them like you did."

That surprises you even more. You've never met any police who suspected you right away. Usually, you pride yourself on looking innocent.

"Technically, I didn't steal anything," you say, making Arthur chuckle.

"Besides my patience," he grunts. "Are you coming along peacefully, or do I need to restrain you?"

You think back to earlier when Arthur held you against the tree, and his behavior makes even more sense. As sheriff, he must be used to giving orders and keeping people in check. You sure wouldn't mind being handled with the same authority now.

"I don't think I'll be going with you," you say, unable to hide a smile. "I guess you have to restrain me."

Arthur sighs and rolls his eyes, but then he pulls out a pair of handcuffs. "You better not try anything. I wouldn't want to shoot someone as skilled as you."

You hold out your arms to Arthur with a smile, letting him put on the handcuffs. He pulls you along and helps you up on your horse, holding on to your ass way longer than he'd have to without trying to hide it. With Arthur pulling along your horse, you make it back to the town, and he walks you into one of the jail cells.

Out of the handcuffs, you settle down on the hard bench in the cell while Arthur disappears into another room. Taking a deep breath, you consider your options. Arthur's not the type to be messed with, so talking yourself out of this won't work.

The same goes for brute force. You're pretty good in a fight, but Arthur's a mountain of a man, holstering two weapons he's probably well versed in using. You can't see yourself overpowering him.

Not that you necessarily have to. Although Arthur has brought you in, you don't think that he's going to give you much trouble over a tiny robbery. He'll probably let you rot in the cell for a bit before giving you a stern talking to and sending you on your way.

Arthur comes back with a bottle of whiskey and settles down on a creaky chair, putting his feet up on his desk. He takes a swig from the bottle before pulling down his hat over his face, crossing his arms, and ready to settle down for a nap.

You should probably do the same, but instead, you watch Arthur. He has the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, and your eyes follow the veins that run along Arthur's arms. You can't help but wonder what it would be like if he held you down or lifted you up.

The way he sits there is too inviting. You imagine walking over to him and pushing down his long legs so you could crawl on his lap and steal the hat before kissing him, not to mention taking a little ride.

With a sigh and tightening pants, you head to the end of your cell, leaning against the bars. "So, you just gonna sit there, huh?"

Arthur pushes up his hat, watching you for a moment. "Please tell me you're not one of the chatty ones who beg for a gag."

"I can be quite loud," you say with a smile, "and I am good at begging. Unless you keep me quiet. I like that, too."

"Just sit your ass down and take your punishment like a man," Arthur growls.

"Oh, I'd love to take it from you," you say, and when Arthur rolls his eyes, you grab the bars of the cell. "Come on, we both know you can't leave while you have a prisoner, and I'm not going to shut up until you make me. Might as well continue where we left off, have some fun."

Arthur's eyes travel over your body, and heat takes hold of you. You just took a shot in the dark, but he's actually considering your words. After a moment, he walks over to you, handing you the whiskey. You look at him while you drink, your lips tightly wrapped around the bottle.

"Just to be clear, you're not getting out," Arthur says. "We can have some fun, but it's no payment for your release. I don't do that."

Of course, you wouldn't mind getting out of here, but you understand what he means. You're not interested in offering sexual favors for your freedom, either.

"Just some fun," you say, handing back the bottle, "and then I'll sit here and repent."

Arthur's gaze clearly states that he doesn't believe in your penance, but he still nods. "Turn around."

You have no idea what he's going to do, but that's even more of a thrill. You do as he says and can hear him put the whiskey bottle back onto the desk. After that, there are more sounds, but you're not sure what Arthur's doing.

He comes back to you, always out of your field of vision, and you jump a little when he speaks close to your ear. "Put up your arms."

Again, you follow up immediately, and Arthur holds your hands against the bars of the cell before putting the handcuffs back on you. He hangs them up in a way that makes it impossible for you to bring your arms back down.

"Comfortable?" he asks, and you know he's giving you an out if you're not into that kind of thing.

You've never done something like this before, but then again, you've never met someone like Arthur. A tingling feeling washes in waves all over your body, and you're eager to see what else he has in store for you.

"I'm good," you say, much more confident than you feel.

Starting from your hands, Arthur explores your body. He opens up your shirt and runs his hands all over you with a firm touch. Goosebumps erupt on your skin, and Arthur reaches around you to open your pants.

"Are you ready to do some penance?" he asks, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice sinking deep into your bones and setting you alight from inside.

"God, yes," you say, unable to play it cool. "Please punish me, sheriff."

Arthur leans his head against the back of yours for a moment as his hands push down your pants. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass, and he groans in satisfaction.

You wish you weren't so eager, but you can't help but push back, the cold bars digging into your skin as a starch contrast to Arthur's warm hands. He lets go of you for a moment, before pushing your cheeks apart and his fingers find their way to your hole.

Arthur's coated his fingers with something oily and rubs circles into your skin while his other hand rests flat on your chest. You let yourself enjoy the touch, and Arthur soon pushes a finger into you, opening you up a little. When he's satisfied with how your muscles loosen up for him, he retreats his hands, and a few seconds later, his hot cock is pressing against your entrance.

"Relax, darling," he says, and you only notice now how tense you are, too eager for Arthur to take you.

You let out all the pent up air from your lungs, and Arthur pushes into you, making you moan. You always love to be claimed and spread open, and Arthur fills you up in the best of ways. He bottoms out, pressing himself against you as much as the bars of the cell allow it.

He trails soft kisses over your neck and rolls his hips, giving you a first taste of what's to come. His hands are back on your body, touching every inch of your skin that he can reach except for your dick, and you have a feeling that's intentional.

Arthur lets you move instead, waiting for you to show him how rough you want this to go. The problem is that you're way too thirsty for some action, and you move as far away as you can before slamming yourself back against him. Whenever his cock thrusts back into you, you let out eager gasps and moans, begging him to go harder.

"You sure want to redeem yourself," Arthur groans.

"Please, more," you say, reminding him that you're not above begging.

Arthur's hand travels up your chest, his fingers going around your throat. There's no pressure behind it, but the mere touch has you arch your back as much as possible, the muscles in your arms straining from being held up.

Finally, Arthur moves with more purpose, grinding deep into you until you're completely ready to take all of him. Then he goes faster and harder, his fingers closing a little more around your throat. Your cock twitches, leaking with precome, and you're not sure how much more you can take before begging for release.

Arthur hits deep into your core, moaning, and grunting as he takes his own pleasure from using your body. Every sound of him hits you like a whip, wanting for you to do even better. You push back hard against the bars with a whine, and Arthur finally has some mercy on you.

He reaches around and grabs your dick tight, stroking you with purpose. Your whole body tenses again, pushing against all the restrictions, and Arthur bites along your neck before his lips come to rest against your ear again, his hot breath washing over you.

"You're gonna be a good boy for me now and come on my cock," he growls, his fingers closing even tighter both around your dick and your throat.

There's nothing you can do to hold back. As soon as Arthur thrusts into you again, you cry out, your orgasm shooting through you as if you've been struck by lightning. While your muscles tense around Arthur's cock, your dick pulses in his hand, your come trickling to the ground.

While you still catch your breath, Arthur pulls out of you, but his hand is still on your throat as he rubs his cock between your cheeks. You squeeze them tight to give him more friction, and with a few satisfied groans, Arthur follows you over the edge, painting your ass with his come.

He takes a moment to rest his head against you before letting go of you and reaching up to undo the handcuffs. You move your arms and rub your wrists to get some blood flow back while Arthur tucks himself away.

"That sure was fun," you say, and Arthur chuckles.

"I hope you don't get bruises from those bars," he says, peaking at your ass.

You can't help but grin. "So worth it."

Arthur shakes his head but smiles. He gets the bottle of whiskey again and a bandana from his desk so you can clean yourself up. When you're all dressed, he hands you the bottle, leaning against the bars.

"Can I trust that you behave yourself now?"

"God, yes," you say, and take a drink. "You wore me out, sheriff. I'm gonna sleep like a baby now."

Arthur laughs as he takes the bottle from you. "Good. See you tomorrow then."

He walks over into the other room, probably lying down, and you settle down on the small cot in your cell. It's anything but comfortable, but you're so tired, you're out like a light in seconds.

--------

"Rise and shine, darling," a deep voice says close to your ear, and you roll over, trying to make out your surroundings.

Arthur is standing in front of you, blocking the morning sun coming in through the window behind him.

"Morning," you mumble, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and sitting up.

"I fear I can't offer you breakfast, but you're free to go," Arthur says before heading out the door and sitting down at his desk.

You take your time getting up and are still stretching your body after following him outside. Arthur's eyes rest on you the whole time, and for the first time in your life, you actually want to stay in jail.

"Are you sure? I did try to rob that fancy place," you say. "Might be tempted to do it again."

A small smile plays around Arthur's lips. "We both know you're not that stupid."

"I might be," you say before walking over to Arthur's desk and leaning against it. Again, you're tempted to crawl into his lap right then and there. "Considering the following punishment."

Arthur studies you for a moment, then he gets up and puts a hand on your back. "Come with me."

You're intrigued, and even when Arthur leads you to the steps to the basement, you go with him without question. Downstairs is another cell, only dimly lit from the light above. When you approach, a man stumbles to the front.

"Are you alright? I heard horrible sounds yesterday," he exclaims, out of breath as if he's been running for miles. "Did he hurt you?"

Arthur can't hold in a chuckle, and when you look at the man in the cell, a weird suspicion arises in your mind.

"Sheriff Callahan?" you ask, and the man's eyes widen.

"Yes, that's me!"

"Come on," Arthur says, patting your back, and you both head back up the stairs, ignoring the sheriff.

"So, I guess you're not the real sheriff," you say, watching Arthur as he leans against his desk. "Care to explain?"

"My gang and I are working a few jobs around here, and since the sheriff was new in town, it seemed a good idea to replace him," Arthur says as if that's the most normal thing to do. "You're free to go, but I have to ask you to move on. We don't want any trouble that could bring some actual law out here."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Arthur shrugs. "You seem like a smart feller. I'm sure you'll know what's best for you to do."

Although Arthur acts all friendly, you know exactly what he's saying. If you dare to make trouble for them, he'll take measures to stop you. Coming from someone who's been holding the sheriff downstairs, you'd have to be pretty stupid not to heed his warning.

The thing is, Arthur's talk about a gang is interesting. You thought for a while that you'd be better off with some backup, and the idea of staying with Arthur is even more tempting.

"Any chance your gang could use another man?" you ask, bringing out your best smile.

Arthur raises a brow at you. "Depends if he's got something good to offer."

"I'm quite handy with a tool, and I can ride."

"I'm interested," Arthur says, his eyes trained at you as intense as yesterday.

You grab him by the collar, push him over to his chair, and finally crawl on top of him. "I could be your deputy, sheriff, and you could teach me a little something about the law. I think I need another lecture on those handcuffs."

Arthur puts a hand on your neck, drawing you in. "Tempting offer," he says before pulling you in for a kiss.

You feel sorry for the things Sheriff Callahan is going to hear now.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x male reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 smut #my writing #nsft #Anonymous

225 notes · View notes

outlier-rookie · 4 years ago

Text

Of Blood and Greatness - Chapter 2

Chapter 2/?? - Money Trouble

AO3 Link https://archiveofourown.org/works/26305741/chapters/64050937#workskin

***

*repeatedly bonks head against wall*

I split the original chapter one into two parts to cut down the word count but it got even fucking longer

***

A lone jackrabbit darted across the ground as four horses broke through the trees surrounding Horseshoe Overlook. The constant rhythm of their hooves mostly drowned out the natural ambiance of the world around them as the horses thundered down the worn dirt path. Despite having only just gotten back to camp, Arthur couldn’t find himself complaining about being back out on the open road again. With a click, he nudged Admiral on and spurred the horse to pull ahead of Charles and Javier until he was alongside the teen.

“So, where exactly are you leading us?” He asked as the kid lead their strange little group down a less-traveled path along the base of Horseshoe Overlook. As they started down the shallow incline of the land, Arthur could easily make out the shimmering waters of the Dakota River ahead of them.

“’s a place called Cattail Pond.” The teen responded. “It’s a nice little area. Good for fishing and the water’s fresh from up the mountain. Fortuna likes it a lot up there. Don’tcha girl?” They continued, giving their horse, apparently named Fortuna, a loving pat long her neck. Fortuna nickered in appreciation, lightly tossing her mane as they rode on.

“Can’t say I’ve heard of it,” Arthur admitted. “Sounds like a decent place.” (Y/N) made a noise of agreement and nodded along to his words.

“Sometimes, a couple of deer will show up to graze and get a drink!” Arthur nodded and turned to look away from the kid as a small smile graced his features at the excitement dancing in the kids' words as they spoke.

“Ya hear that Charles? If we’re lucky we might be able to bag some deer for Pearson since he’s always going on about not having enough meat.” Arthur called back.

“It’d certainly save me from going hunting tomorrow.” Came the other man’s reply. The conversation petered off from there, and Arthur was content to let the silence hang between them as the teen continued to lead them along the Dakota River.

Arthur found himself occasionally looking to the teen as they continued along the horse worn roads. Once again he found himself taking note of their ratty hat, too-big shirt, and tangled, dirt covered hair. Unconsciously, Arthur found himself thinking of things better left in the past. About Mary and her choice of a clean society life over him and his life of killing and thieving. As much as it had hurt him to his core all them years ago, he had long come to terms with the fact it was the right choice for her in the end. A life on the run as a killer's wife was no life he wanted for her and by god did she deserve better. And what if they’d had a kid? Would that kid have grown up to be like (Y/N)? Dressed in clothes slightly better than rags, listening to folks in town talking, hoping for a sliver of promising information? How soon before Dutch started insisting they run jobs like him and the others? Would he have had to bury his own kid after a shootout gone to hell?

What about Issac?

His boy.

His beautiful little boy who would forever be barely older than Jack was now.

Arthur was forcefully brought out of his self-pitying thought spiral when Admiral cried out, rearing up and unceremoniously throwing him from the saddle. A cry of warning that probably came from Javier rang in Arthur’s ears as he landed heavily on his back, the crash stealing the air from his lungs. His world spun something fierce and he was vaguely aware of the feeling of the earth rumble beneath him as he lay there trying to breathe. Groaning to himself and muttering a quiet, pained curse, Arthur gingerly sat up as Charles appeared at his side offering a welcome hand up.

“You alright there Arthur? I almost ran you over.” Javier asks as Boaz came to a halt.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” Arthur replied, grunting as Charles pulled him back to his feet. He back protested as he carefully flexed his muscles, trying to lessen the pain racing up and down his back.

“You alright mister?” Arthur looked up and caught the worried look (Y/N) was sending him and nodded with a grunt as he looked around, quickly finding Admiral ten or so feet away, ears flicking back and forth. Arthur could hear the stallion’s huffing even with the distance between them. Sighing, Arthur called out calmly to his agitated horse, gently drawing Admiral’s attention to him as he shushed and soothed the animal. Seeing his human approaching, Admiral dutifully strode over to Arthur and less than gently shoved his entire head against the man’s chest as soon as he was within range, snorting as Arthur ran a hand along his neck.

“Yeah. You’re ok boy.” Arthur said softly as he fished out a peppermint as a reward for calming down so quickly and returning without much fuss. “Now why’d you go a buck me off like that boy?”

“Did you not hear me when I said to look out for the snake?”

Arthur looked up again at (Y/N) spoke and felt a tiny bit of heat upon his cheeks.

“Ah. No, sorry. Was lost in my thoughts.”

“That’s not like you Arthur. Everything alright?” Charles’ deep voice was like a welcome balm on his bruised pride. Still, Arthur waved off the other man’s worry with a small smile.

“Well, we’re nearly there so mount up and let’s get going.” (Y/N) commanded, turning Fortuna back around to the direction they were headed.

“Pushy kid, aren’t ya?” Arthur commented as he swung himself back on to Admiral’s back.

“We still gotta ride all the way back to camp. And besides, Cattail Pond may be out of the way but it isn’t completely untravelled.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s get going then.”

The remainder of the ride was again spent mostly in silence, as Arthur winced with every jolt of Admiral’s gait. The trip from then on out was almost entirely uneventful, save for the poor fella they passed who was yelling every profanity under the sun as a lone wolf chased his horse. Taking pity on the poor man, (Y/N) drew their repeater and without commanding Fortuna to slow, fired a few warning shots at the wolf, who decided his fleeing target was no longer worth the effort and fled the way he’d come. The rider didn’t even look back.

Arthur was mildly impressed at how at ease the teen was when needing to shoot from the saddle and when he commented as much, they simply shrugged and replied “Like I said, I can shoot any gun and I don’t miss. Those bullets hit right where I wanted them to.”

It wasn’t too much longer before (Y/N) was leading the three outlaws up the slope of the mountain.

“We’re coming up on where I hid everything.” They called back. “There’s a little abandoned house near Cattail Pond. The whole thing doesn’t look like it’s been touched in years.”

“And you’re sure it’s secure?”

“I sure am Mister Arthur!” They said, turning back to look at him. “Only way in is a window with loose boards but it’s too small for adults. Especially you and Mister Smith.” They finished with a laugh. “There it is!”

Arthur turned his gaze from the cheerful teen and true to their word, a smallish boarded-up house sat perched upon a ledge.

“Uhh, shouldn’t there be a pond? It was in the name…” Javier asked in confusion.

“It’s a bit further up and just over the rest of this part of the mountain.” (Y/N) clarified. Fortuna came to a halt with a tug on her reins as (Y/N) dismounted, the three men following their lead. Arthur briefly checked his ammo out of habit, noticing from the corner of his eye that Javier and Charles had done the same before following the teen up the mountain path. Naturally, the house had seen better days. The door and windows were all boarded up and almost looked more secure than several prisons Arthur had found himself inside for one reason or another.

(Y/N) walked with a purpose to one of the windows that looked just as inaccessible as the door, yet without pausing they grabbed one of the board and gave it a few tugs.

“Charles, could you give them a hand?” Arthur asked.

“No no no! I got it!”

“You sure kid?”

“Yup!” They replied, punctuated with another tug. “It comes off! I promise! I just made sure it wouldn’t fall off on its own while I was gone.” Arthur nodded as the teen grunted again as they struggled with the board.

“Almost got it-!”

With a final groan, the board finally came loose and sent the teen stumbling back into Arthur. He caught the falling teen with ease and barely more than a soft ‘oof’ at the collision.

“Told ya it comes off.” (Y/N) grinned. Arthur rolled his eyes fondly as they (h/c) haired youth dropped the board to the ground and went back to grab the next. As suspicious as he was of them when he first heard their claims, he found the teen had grown on him in the very short time he’d known them. A little voice in the back of his head whispered that they could still be planning some sort of trap but he tampered it down. He could not for the life of him explain why, but whenever he looked at them a strange feeling welled up inside of him. It was warm and kind of tingly but it also made his chest tighten and made his lungs feel like they weren’t working properly. Again he was brought back to the haunting blue pools of their eyes.

Arthur continued to watch silently as (Y/N) removed two more planks of wood until there was enough of a gap for them to fit through. Slinging their repeater off their back and placing it against the house, (Y/N) pulled themselves through the newly opened window. Javier and Charles silently fanned out to scan the surrounding area while Arthur watched (Y/N) through the window as they walked over to the fireplace and reached up the chimney, pulling a satchel from its hiding place. Next, they walked to a nightstand and pushed it away from the wall, revealing a hole with an old saddlebag sitting inside. Arthur let out an amused chuckle at the sight. The kid was pretty smart to have split up the money inside the hiding place.

“Grab this for me, will ya?” (Y/N) said from the window, holding a lockbox out to him. Stepping back and lifting the lid, Arthur felt himself grinning upon seeing the neat wads of cash lining the interior of the box. He looked up as the kids dropped two old saddlebags and the satchel out the window, all bulging at the seams with money, and onto the ground before once again crawling through the window.

“Good work kid.” Arthur smiled. The grin the kid gave him reminded Arthur of a cat that had gotten the cream or eaten an entire salmon on its own. “How much would you say is in those bags?” He asked Javier and Charles. “I think there’s around five thousand in this little thing.”

“Close to ten in the satchel, I think.” Came Charles’ reply. Javier let out a long whistle.

“At least thirty between the saddlebags. Certainly heavy enough to be that much.” Arthur nodded happily.

“’S good. Real good. Alright, let's load all this up then.” The packing away of the newly retrieved money was a quick affair and it wasn’t too long before Admiral, Boaz, and Tiama all had their saddle bags stuffed as full as possible. Still, there was some that still needed putting away. Arthur put most of it into his own satchel but decided on a whim to hand the kid the old satchel with a few thousand in it. “We’re trusting you not to betray us now kid.”

“Course not!” they replied with a scoff. “Like I’d damage the goodwill I’ve worked up with you now!”

“Right then. Well, where to next?” He asked as he prepared to mount Admiral. “We’ve gotten a good amount of our money back, is the rest nearby?”

“The rest?”

“Yeah, the rest. We got nearly fifty thousand right now but we’re still a long ways off from the total.”

The silence that followed was near deafening before the kids' quiet voice spoke up.

“B-but. This is everything!”

Arthur’s gaze shot over to the kid, their eyes wide as all hell as they repeatedly opened their mouth to speak only for the words to get stuck in their throat.

“You said you had all our money!” Javier interrupted angrily as he stepped closer to the scared teen.

“I did! I, well, I thought I did!”

“What do you mean you thought?” Arthur asked, his voice soft, despite the mild sting at the idea the kid had lied to them.

“I mean when I went to grab the money, this is all that was hidden there! I didn’t know there was more than this!” Arthur bit out a curse and ran a hand over his beard, thinking about what he should do next. The kid seemed genuinely upset at the revelation that they hadn’t actually gotten all of the gang’s money.

“You gotta believe me Mister!” They begged. Tears were starting to gather in their eyes and the sight made Arthur’s heart clench. “I-I swear! I thought I had gotten it all! I- I didn’t know! I-“

“’S Alright kid, I believe ya.” Arthur sighed, walking over and giving what he hoped was a reassuring pat on the kids shoulder. “Let’s just get back to camp so we can figure things out from there.” With a gentle push belying his anger, Arthur guided the distressed teen back to their horse, quietly telling them to mount up before swinging himself back onto Admiral’s saddle.

The ride back to camp felt slower. The horses all seemed to pick up on the less than cheerful moods of their riders and showed no desire to speed things along. Arthur was about to reassure (Y/N) that everything would be fine when the loud crack of a gun startled the horses and sent Arthur into fight or flight mode.

“Thems Dutch’s boys! Get em’!” A nasally Irish accented voice called out and Arthur heard Javier say, what was probably a curse, in Spanish. Arthur frantically looked around for somewhere to take cover but they were as good as sitting ducks. Yelling out a one-word order, he spurred Admiral into action, drawing his revolver as the stallion raced across the trail.

“Ride!”

The O’Driscolls whooped and hollered as they gave chase, firing wildly at the retreating men and teen as they made their mad dash over Cumberland Falls. One shot hit too close to Boaz and the horse reared, nearly bucking Javier from the saddle. As Admiral was practically running up Boaz’s behind, Arthur had no time to react and the two collided with such force, Arthur once again found himself flying from his saddle. With no time to catch his breath, Arthur sprang back up, running to the bank where several large rocks sat and slid down behind one. Taking a second to compose himself and draw his gun, Arthur peeked out from behind the rock and the world seemed to slow as Arthur picked his targets and lined up his revolver with the men trying to kill him. He breathed out slowly and squeezed the trigger and nailing one of the O’Driscolls right between the eyes. Sweeping his gun and gaze across the horizon, Arthur sent three more bullets flying towards his enemies with each hitting their mark in the other fella's chest.

A burning pain slashed across his upper arm of his off-hand and sent him ducking back behind cover, allowing him enough of a reprise to give his arm a once over. A tear in his shirt sleeve showed that he was little more than grazed by the bullet. Swallowing the pain dancing up his arm, he poked up from behind his measly cover again and prepared to return fire only for the O’Driscoll he was aiming for to go down with a spray of red mist as a bullet tore through his skull.

Chancing a look in the direction of the shot, Arthur was surprised to see (Y/N) behind another rock glaring down the barrel of their repeater, nailing O’Driscoll after O’Driscoll. The dumb Irish bastards, not expecting a majority of their forces to be taken out by a teenager, stagged and balked giving Charles and Javier, who had recovered from Arthur and Admiral crashing into him and Boaz, plenty of time to take down the rest of them.

When the last O’Driscoll fell, only the sound of the waterfall echoed around them as Arthur breathed out a sigh of relief.

“You alright there Arthur?” Charles’ deep soothing voice called out.

“I’ll live, just a graze. Stings more than anything.” He sighed, feeling the sudden tension and adrenaline fade from his body. Tiredly, he whistled for Admiral and quietly patted his neck. “You’re alright boy.” He muttered quietly before turning back to the others. “Any other injuries?”

“None here.” Javier replied, Charles nodding silently beside him. Arthur nodded and turned to ask (Y/N) the same only to see them staring at one of the dead O’Driscolls.

“Y’alright kid?”

“Hmm?” (Y/N)’s eyes stayed fixated on the dead body, a thin ribbon of pinkish-red water trailing from the hole in the man’s head.

“Come on.” Arthur said gently, guiding them towards Fortuna who perked up at her approaching rider and quickly attempted to eat some of the kids hair drawing a laugh from the quietly distressed youth. Arthur left (Y/N) to gather themselves as Javier silently signaled him over.

“We got a problem.”

“Besides the O’Driscolls?” Arthur said, gesturing to the dead bodies in the river.

“I can’t find the saddlebag you gave me.”

“What?”

“I think it might have fallen off when Admiral ran into Boaz.” The Mexican gunslinger continued. “If I had to guess, it went over the waterfall.”

“Shit.” Arthur spun around and walked up to Admiral, seeing that he too had lost the saddlebag filled with some of the money. “We can’t stay to look. Someone likely heard the shooting and I’d rather not be around if some lawmen show up.”

“What are we going to tell Dutch?” Charles asked, calm as ever, as Arthur swung himself back onto the saddle. “We already had less than believed and now we have lost even more of it.”

“Leave Dutch to me. Let’s just get goin’.”

Within a matter of minutes, the four of them were back on their way to camp, the air quiet like before but with a completely different feeling in the air. Gone was the jovial hope and promise of a fat stack of money awaiting them. Instead, a quiet disappointment and unease hung around them; especially from (Y/N). Silently, Arthur waved Charles and Javier ahead and slowed Admiral down till he was side by side with Fortuna. (Y/N) didn’t respond to Arthur’s presence, quietly fiddling with a few strands of Fortuna’s mane, their hands barely holding the reins. Arthur took a moment to note that Fortuna made no attempt to throw her head or wander elsewhere as her rider neglected to guide her.

“Hey.” He spoke up quietly. “Y’all right?”

(Y/N) shrugged one shoulder, not looking up from their fiddling, but stayed silent. Their ratty hat was pulled low over their face obscuring their eyes but Arthur got the feeling that the kid was doing their best to not cry in front of him.

“Hey.” He said to them, voice still far gentler than he’d heard himself sound in a long time. “Look at me.”

(Y/N) peaked out from under the brim of their hat and just like Arthur suspected, their eyes were wet with unshed tears.

“It’s goin’ to be alright. Dutch’ll understand.” The kid didn’t react and Arthur got the distinct impression they didn’t believe him. Were Arthur a different man he might have been bothered by the fact the kid had little to no hope of things being alright. The world was a dangerous place, especially for kids all on their own. He knew it, John knew it, and countless others too. Still, something he couldn’t put into words made him want to reassure the kid and make them believe in those words again.

God, he was acting like a damn a sentimental fool.

“Shit happens in life kid. But you know what? You still got us a good amount of money.” When the kid replied, Arthur had to strain his ears to hear their mumbled reply.

“I lied though.” They sniffled. “I said I got all your money but I didn’t! And then, most of it fell off the damn waterfall. All because of those damn Malakas!” The last word didn’t sound like English and had a weird foreign quality to it and Arthur made a mental note to ask the kid about it later because it definitely wasn’t a polite word. Realising he was starting to tune out (Y/N), Arthur snapped his thoughts back to them just in time to hear them complain more about the O’Driscolls.

“What happened with those O’Driscoll bastards weren’t your fault kid. Dutch won’t hold it against you. And besides, you helped us take care of em. You’ve definitely proven yourself as a capable person, despite your youth. I’m sure Dutch will be more than happy to have you with us.” The last sentence slipped out of his mouth before he could think better of it but the way the kids eyes shined with hope stopped Arthur from physically kicking himself for practically promising such a thing.

“You really think so Mister?”

“Course!” He continued with a hearty laugh. “You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t miss. Nailed all three of those O’Driscolls right between their eyes! Poor bastards didn’t know what hit em’.”

The kid made half chuckle noise of agreement but frowned.

“Wish I didn’t have to prove my sharpshooting like that. I was thinking more about hunting for food. Not, killin’.”

Before Arthur could stick his foot in his mouth again by saying something stupid again, Bill’s gruff voice called out from the forest making Arthur realise that they were back at camp.

***

Thank you for reading!

If you have a spare 5 seconds please consider leaving a comment. It helps my motivation and encourages me to write more when I can see proof people like my stories. A like and reblog also let me know people are enjoying this story.

#rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x male reader #rdr2 x female reader #rdr2 x gn reader #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #of blood and greatness #RDR2 crossover

31 notes · View notes

honestsycrets · 5 years ago

Text

Hard Sell II: Mother’s Approval

❛ pairing | ivar x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | he’s too shy to say anything.

❛ warnings | verbal argument, crazy family, 4B ivar is my favourite ivar

He sits by that rock looking out at the pier. As he reclines there, watching the waves pull and push onto the pier, Aslaug watches him too. There’s something on his mind, she knows, a mother always knows her son’s needs. She stops by the rock, the back of her hand brushing his prominent cheek bones, and waits.

“Ivar…”

He grunts, turning up from the waters, and regards her softly. “Mother.”

“There are no raiders leaving.” She notices.

“Mm.” He nods, turns his eye back, and she suddenly realizes what it is that he’s looking at. There, in the waters, his best friend pokes at the water with a long pole. She strikes, then fails, and the man beside her roars in laughter, getting a kick of heavy water toward him.

She mentions your name, “I see now.” Her foxish face pulls together, amused. “And the boy?”

“Cousin,” Ivar answers, settling his chin back on his forearm. “So he said.”

“She won’t marry her cousin, Ivar.” She settles beside him. The strange thing of his mother, as he always thought, was her infatuation with him above all his sons. The only one who truly and really loved him. Maybe then-- she was something protective of that role.

“Maybe not,” he grunts.

“Yet still no husband,” her voice pulls, amused. He hates it when she does that. Pointing out something that he knows, and could do something about, but hates all the same. He lowers his head down, barely peering over the leathery gloves.

“No, no husband.” Ivar agrees.

“Any reason why?”

Ivar’s fingers flicker. A growing annoyance-- because despite that chat the other day, nothing had changed. He saw you pick up your skirts, clinging to the form of your legs, and move onto sandy land. He also saw the confidence in which you carried yourself when you knew others were watching. You liked the eyes. His eyes, especially.

Something had to be there. You wink in his direction. It’s for him, he knows that now, and yet… You turn to place your hand back in the binding that the healer had given you to keep it taut against your chest. You’re an awful person to take care of. Always disobeying orders despite the break.

“Ivar!” You shout out to him, rushing to his rock, when you stop. It’s as if you’ve noticed something is astray. Or rather, someone.

“Aslaug,” you bow your head to her. Aslaug’s features soften, grasping Ivar’s arm. There it was, that display of dominance, and Ivar knows that this is the precise reason why you hadn’t done more to chase him. Ragnar didn’t love his mother like Lagertha. Every fool knew that. The way he… he cringes, turns his head away, finds his mother’s eyes.

“Any luck in the waters?” she asks, minding the fishing stick in your hand. You flip the pole in your hand, lowering the prod down to her as your cousin throws a wet sack over his back. “‘fraid not. Einir over here scared the fish away,” you accuse.

Did not, Einir scoffs, blowing out a small tuft of air. “She’s just a shit fisherwoman. Does better watchin’ than she do catchin’” he motions, pausing when Ivar’s eyes catch his, hot and hard. Almost as if to ask him to say that again, no really, say that again. “But-” he punches your arm playfully. “We’ve gotta get to the longhouse. Got some fish for dinner myself. Uncle’s waiting, huh?”

“You should come,” you gesture to Ivar, then pause. Aslaug-- she’d certainly wouldn’t complain if Ivar went, but you keep in mind that Ivar is her lifeforce to Midgard. “You too, Queen Aslaug. Father makes a good roasted fish.”

“Perhaps.”

That’s not awkward. You excuse yourself, punching Einir with your one good hand, even if its still holding the fishing pole. Fuck you, he makes out. Aslaug’s eye follows you until you disappear, then her arm snaps free of him, running instead through his hair.

“Do you want to go?” she asks.

Ivar, gazing back at her, nods. And they go together.

Your family works hard. So it only makes sense that they play hard, booze hard, laugh hard. Aslaug is familiar with this sort of company, but at the same time, she isn’t. They drink over one’s lap, husbands and wives drink of one horn, brothers brawl in the longhouse over the stupidest shit-- there’s your brother now, thrusting Einir across the floor and into the bench like beds that lined the walls.

“Do they always fight like that?” she asks.

You inhale, picking at the roasted fish, regretting all your life choices in that instant. “More or less. Einir calls Eyr something, Eyr calls Einir something, right Ivar?”

“You do the same thing.”

“I do not! I haven’t called them names.” You cut him off quick, tapping Ivar’s prominent forehead. Somewhere along the line, Ivar’s head had met your lap. Aslaug found this unsavoury. If only because she’d never seen him like this before, but the way he smiled, pure and wide, was something that she couldn’t fight about. “...today.”

“Tch,” Ivar clicks his tongue. “Continue to delude yourself.”

“Asshole,” you tell him, like its just you and him. But his mother is there, lips churning into a frown, obviously wise to your words. She leans on the edge of the chair.

“So,” she says, setting her own empty plate aside, and balancing the ale in her fingers. “Ivar says you’re uncalled for.”

“Uncalled for?”

“Mother.”

“You’re unmarried,” behind her, the rustling of Einir and Eyr comes to a complete stop. As does the loud, booming festivities of the evening. Instead they cue into her words. “Surely you aren’t going to remain unmarried. Do you have plans?”

By the gods, Ivar sits up. The safety net of having Ivar there has gone, and in its place, your hands run together with uncertainty. “I hadn’t thought of it. Spend all my time at home or with him.”

“You should.” She says. “There are plenty eligible men in Kattegat of your class.”

Of your class-- your eyes bulge, and so do Ivar’s.

“What does that mean?” Einir stands upright, though with a stagger, given the welt above his eyebrow swelling out. Blood trickles into his lashes. “Ya don’t think she could marry up?”

You gesture your cousin to calm himself, but he’s a farmer’s man, with a raging temper. He’s been busy knocking down timber for trade all night. He’s willing and ready to go, and you sense as much off the way he sets one of those fat palms on your shoulder, standing like a wall of offended muscle.

“Why my girl could marry a goði,” your father chimes in with a slur, and you squeeze your brow, “Father please.”

There’s no real stopping your father, nor your brother, nor your cousin when they started. “In fact! Just look’it ol’Ivar!”

He freezes, staring up like a deer caught in the hunter’s grasp, begging with the old man not to say something. Then, knowing he would, his fear turned to abject anger, his broad nose squeezing tight.

“She’s gottim wrapped around her li’l finger.” He shoves his wife’s shoulder, roaring in a laughter that is almost mocking. “A prince righ’? A prince.”

Aslaug isn’t fazed. Rather she searches you for a reaction. How would you handle this? Ivar’s face was hot and red, swelling up like the surge before the hurricane at sea. Your hand shoots out, cupping over his. Fingers lace up, drawing his attention from the momentary need to lash out, and replacing it with a soothing calm.

“I’m sure she could.”

You release tightly held air.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Since when have you been sorry?” Ivar asks, settled over his rock with his hood drawn up over his shaggy hair.

“Since, uh, now?” you come to sit beside him on the rock, pulling up your dress. His eyes catch the unprotected skin, cementing it to his memory, and he knows he’s in trouble then. His eyes tear away. “No difference. He was right.”

“About what?”

The cool air rushes by, reminding him of his mother’s words: Still no husband? And yet, you could have one, if Frigg willed it. His throat has clammed up on him, dry like a rock. “You have me around your finger.”

It’s ridiculous.

“You can’t be serious. He was drunk Ivar. He didn’t mean that--”

He could. He would. And he is.

“...I do.” His voice quakes, like he’s too shy to actually say it, that I want you-- that I like you-- maybe love you. He’s not sure of it and yet he’s never been more sure of anything else before. He only knows that it feels right when you gaze at him through the crowd, seek him out like a morsel of food among a plate.

He’s sure, more than ever, that this is what he needed.

“Well, I… of course.” You say, your head connecting with his shoulder, breathing in the scent, then exhaling. “You’re my best friend.”

If he died without hearing those words again, he’d be a lucky man.

“...of course.”

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @beyond-the-ashes @supernaturalvikingwhore @mblaqgi @wuxiesalt @hopplessdreamer @therealcalicali @rekdreams-fandom @moondustmemories @athroatfullofglass @poisonedjoinery @strangunddurm @shookforyoojung @peachesnpisces @tierneygonzalez @hexqueensupreme @nohemi2500 @queenmissfit @alicedopey @dmv49 @sallylebecks @terrainhead @mybarnesmyhero @youurkryptonite @lif3snotouttogetyou @vikingsmania @looneytunes20033 @bat-fam-blob @oneofthelothbroks @lovelynerdytraveler @chinduda @whatamood13 @honeyofthegods @ilvebeenabad @queenbeeta @wonderlandofsu @itsjusttaralove

#ivar x reader #ivar/reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless/reader #Ivar the Boneless imagines #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings/reader #vikings x reader

150 notes · View notes

partyinthemysterymachine · 4 years ago

Note

Harry + betrayed (looks at a&s au stuff like :3c)

looks at you like 🔪

===

Every time the mug came out of the steaming hot dishwasher, Harry clasped it in both hands. The ceramic was always scalding, and his palms always threatened to blister. Clouds reeking of dishwasher detergent lifted and swept over his forearm, humid as a summer’s stifling rain, its pungency sickening his heart.

He hated to wash this mug.

Bright and early at six o’clock every morning, Harry made coffee. It steeped dark and bitter, just how they liked it. The first pour went into his mug; the second filled his own. Then both were taken to the small, round table in the corner of their kitchen. Harry set the mug down on the wood itself to the right of the round, rattan woven placemats they’d found in a bargain bin at Williams-Sonoma. Harry’s coffee went on the placemat itself, edging the rim, at his left.

How charming it was to have their mugs across from each other like that. He always liked how they seemed to be having a conversation through the coffee’s dissipating flames of white steam. As they drained their caffeine and burned their throats, the heat shocking their stomachs, they’d talk.

Talking didn’t necessarily mean words were used. No, words weren’t his forte, though he relished every sound that rolled off his tongue. He spoke with his face and through his hands, and if Harry ever had his way, he’d spend the hours morn to midnight simply gazing at his face.

Two hours later, Harry stood and took the cold, untouched mugs to the sink. Down the drain went the wasted coffee, dumped out at the same time. A swish of water from the faucet did a quick and fine job of cleaning them out, and Harry’s went, dripping, onto the counter. Then he ran the water again to piping hot, abusing skin rough and chapped from this daily ritual of cleaning, cleaning out his ice cold coffee, cleaning, cleaning out the dots of mold he’d let grow for two weeks because he couldn’t let that go, cleaning, cleaning out that damn spot, that damn spot, that damn spot.

The mug was as hot as it was when it came out of the dishwasher, and Harry clasped it in both hands. His teeth tried to send their roots into his skull with his jaw clamped like that, and he wished his tongue, sucked hard to the roof of his mouth and tastebuds rough as sandpaper, would swell and choke him. Every time it didn’t, which was every morning, every single morning for the past three years, Harry called it betrayal.

His kiss held tender on the warm rim. It was the last place his lips had laid where Harry could kiss him, for he couldn’t kiss his own cheek. Like every morning, his eyes slipped closed and he thought of their daily coffee date at their kitchen table. Autumn was in full golden, fiery bloom. People swarmed to Vermont to lose their breath to the vast garden of nature’s heavenly, untamed wildfire that never burned.

Every single fucking morning it was autumn again, the mug had been scorching hot, then chilly, the phantom pressure of his kiss lingered on his cheek, and Harry tried to kiss him back too on ceramic that had been the last tangible thing to experience his lips.

Today, he set the mug down on the counter alongside the one in its puddle. The water brimmed its mismatched mate immediately and would leave an incomplete circle in its wake after Harry would take it up and wrap it in a soft towel. That puddle would dry on its lonesome over the course of as many minutes; Harry wrapped up his personal mug, too.

Remaining coffee got poured and locked in a thermos. They were placed in the coveted seat beside the driver’s - shotgun! one’s supposed to yell to reserve it for themselves - tucked safely behind a plain old box.

The ignition chittered on. Rancid boomed and rattled the Jeep’s speakers. Harry absently wiggled the shiny, custom-made Magic Eight Ball fortune teller stick shift knob. He glanced down. ‘It is decidedly so,’ promised the triangular face washed behind blue, its text pressed on the circular window.

A draw; and exhale. The YJ Wrangler shifted into gear, easing back out of the driveway, Harry’s arm slung around the shotgun seat and head turned to watch over his shoulder as he safely maneuvered to their personal gravel road leading to and from their remote, comfortable Vermont hideaway.

It’d probably take five, six hours, give or take, to get to Maine. He was looking forward to their coffee date. Five out of the seven days of the week Harry drove to Maine to hang out on the shore of Toluca Lake. Coffee was served into their mugs; he kept his at his side, and his tucked into the sand and mud at the water’s breach.

Sometimes he’d talk, update his husband on his books, their daughter, the latest news that did and didn’t matter. Other times he’d sit in silence, listening and watching the new face of a man he loved. Harry was there in rain, sleet, and snow. He’d all but frozen his ass off before out there and sweated buckets in the heat. But they had their spot, and that’s where he’d always sit.

Silent Hill rested to the south. They took a vacation there once. Harry hates how it looks out across Toluca. Take your fucking eyes somewhere else, he regularly thinks. Don’t fucking look at him.

It oversees. One day, Harry’s promised five days out of the seven in the week, he’s going to tear that town asunder by his own bare hands.

Tomorrow might be that day. Harry rises to his feet. It is decidedly so. He fetches the Jeep’s constant tenant for the last three years. It is decidedly so.

“I hope you liked your coffee, honey,” he says to the lake lapping at his boots as he wades into snapping cold. “So, I asked the eight ball if I’d see you today,” Harry Mason offhandedly tells his husband residing in the lake. “Guess what it said? ‘It is decidedly so.’ Take that as you will. I know you know what I’ve planned to do, honeylove. Don’t get up in my tits about it,” warns the older man, now appropriately submerged mid-chest. “I’m not gonna do it today. Doesn’t feel right. But I thought it’d be nice to see you, anyway.”

“So you’re wondering why I brought the box in with me? Well, I’m glad you asked! For one, I fixed it up and made it waterproof,” he smirks, cradling it in his arm and popping it open. “And two.. c’mon, now. You know I’d lose these if I didn’t keep ‘em in here.”

Two pendants, no bigger than his thumbnail, each on their own thin chain, dangled just skimming the water’s surface. Two pendants, amber and glinting, somehow even in the thick grey mist rolling in from Silent Hill. “Check these out. I got ‘em made a few months ago and I’ve just now had the balls to bring ‘em out. It’s because the eight ball said I’d see you today. So.. here. One of them’s for you. I figure you can make yours glow in there, firefly. You have a knack for lightin’ up the dark.”

Harry chuckles, wagging his head back and forth, mocking himself. “Yeah, yeah, mushy, whatever, I’m a dork. Thbhtghbh. What’re you gonna do, divorce me? Shoulda thought about that before you went fishing, babe.” He collects the chains and their sculpted fireflies into his fist. One kiss is enough for both. Then he smiled, looked into the lake, and felt comforted by the thought that that sweet, pale man with yellow wheat field hair was watching him.

Projection is a very real, very psychedelic thing, for sometimes, Harry thinks he can see his face.

The water sways around his wrist. He gazes into Toluca Lake and waits, and hopes that the magic of the eight ball is true.

Will I get to see James today?

It is decidedly so.

If he were to do it all over again from the top, do you think he’d still do it this way?

It is decidedly so.

Does he know I love him?

It is decidedly so.

Does he know I’ll never forgive him?

It is decidedly so.

When the day comes, I’ll kill that motherfucker myself. I dunno how it’s gonna happen, but it’s gonna happen. Fucking asshole. He knows that, right?

….

.. right?

“I gotta go soon, babe,” Harry murmurs to his husband, James Mason (formerly Sunderland). “I’m gonna leave one with you. I’ll be back tomorrow. If you wanna trade, we can. Fuck, I don’t wanna get a fuckin’ yeast infection out here,” he gripes, turning to wade out of the lake. “Seriously, James. Not like a yeast infection wouldn’t stop me from comin’ out here but you bet your ass you’re gonna hear all fucking about it, because it will be your fault, and I fucking hate you, so goddamn fucking much, honeylove.”

Harry makes it out to the shore. He takes the box to its honored seat in shotgun! James’s coffee gets thrown into Toluca; he pours his out where he’d sat. Then the mason with rusted tools scans his exhausted, old, heavily lined eyes across the scenic lake where an orange (rare, so rare, extremely rare and mean everything) firefly swims. He’ll never get over the betrayal. It doesn’t matter if he understands it. It doesn’t matter that he’s (and he’s) been waiting for it long before they’d met.

After all those thousands of years of looking for each other, this is how he chooses to betray him: like Judas, with a kiss.

A kiss on a ceramic mug that is going to be washed again today, and tomorrow morning, and will scald his hands.

A kiss, a kiss, a kiss from a man whose lips promised I love you with a simple brush. Lips Harry hasn’t felt in three years; his heart can break even more.

Will I ever get to kiss him again? Harry asks his stick shift as he drives towards his six (give or take) hour journey home to Vermont.

It is decidedly so, replies the eight ball.

Will it be soon? inquires a widowed man, widowed for the second time.

It is decidedly so, soothes the inky window.

When?

Turn right off this street, guides the knob too small to say so. Fifty miles out. It won’t take long.

Huh? I can barely see with all this fog. Where am I going?

To see James.

James? What’s he doing all the way out here?

Waiting for you.

.. waiting for me? I’ll get to see him again?! Jeez.. damn, I’ve got a splitting headache all of a sudden .. fifty miles to Silent Hill.. hrm, seems farther than I remember, but..

He’s waiting for you.

.. forgot to clean up the coffee at home.. m’sure it’ll be fine.. Cheryl’ll be over at some point.. heh.. can’t believe he wants to spend our anniversary in Silent Hill.. fuckin’ weirdo.. a vow renewal? And he calls me disgusting..

He’s waiting.

I’m comin’. I’ll be there soon, James. It’s gonna be alright. I can’t wait to see you. We’re gonna have a great vacation, just the two of us, aren’t we, sweetheart?

It is decidedly so.

#ches writes #a&s #HRM WHOOPS UHHHHHHHHHHH #how many hours did i just fucking spend writing this #oh three? cool #welp #anyway!#rootdootdoodootdoooot i'm leav-ving #magnolian-gold #so much for a fucking drabble amirite fellas #just zoned the fuck in bc god i love that fuckin sad shit #not even sorry for revisiting the same a&s plot point over an over #can't be bovvered #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#anyway this new revised au is living in my head rent free and that's very sexy cash money of me to write asbout

16 notes · View notes

gingerwritess · 6 years ago

Note

"Person A is pregnant but finds out just before Person B has to gone on a six month long trip. When Person B returns Person A surprises them with their growing baby bump hilarity and confusion ensues" Maybe this one for Elliot and dad!Loki? have a great day sweetcheeks

combined with this request from @mylovelycrazyworld

summary: well…Elliot wanted a sibling. it’s about time he got one.

warnings: pregnancy stuff, a tiny hint of angst, missing Loki, fluff, and lots of Elliot silliness

a/n: FIRST OF ALL I AM SO PROUD OF THIS so i hope you e n j o y

sorry, second, i got waaay too carried away with this and suddenly its like a part of a wholeass story and yeah we’re gonna move this little storyline right along.

third i accidentally posted this before it was done a couple weeks ago so if you read it that time, i’m so sorry, this one is done and much better.

i’m also so sorry i’ve been gone lately. it’s been a crazy hectic last couple weeks so i haven’t had much time to sit down and finish writing anything! thanks for sticking around :)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Of course Loki had to leave this week, of all weeks.

Elliot’s taking the separation fairly well; Loki had left for Asgard with a kiss on the forehead, a tight hug, and a pretty serious request.

“You’ll take care of your mother for me while I’m away, won’t you?”

The little boy had promised, naturally, trying to look as serious and grown-up as he could, and even offered his hand to Loki for a handshake when he went in for a hug goodbye. Loki’s jaw had dropped in shock; then he pushed Elliot’s hand out of the way and swooped him up laughing into his arms for a tight, chaotic, firm hug.

So now you have a protective five year old fussing over you all day long, which is honestly worse than having a protective 1000+ year old fussing over you. He tries to do everything he sees Loki doing, everything he’s supposed to do to “take care of his mother:” like holding your hand in every possible situation, running up behind you and hugging the back of your legs, he’s even kissed your forehead at one point.

Loki’s trained him well.

But morning four of Loki being gone brings an unexpected turn. Elliot has been sleeping in your bed with you, wanting to keep you company—but mostly just missing the clone that Loki normally lets Elliot cuddle up with every night. This Tuesday morning, he’s laying across your stomach, happily sucking a thumb and drooling onto your shirt—well, technically it’s Loki’s.

It would’ve been nice to wake up and see his chubby little face all squished up with sleep, but you’re brutally shaken from your rest by a lurching stomach—you’re going to throw up, right now. You try to push Elliot off you as gently as you can, already retching as you shove him one last time, a little harder than you meant to, and he groggily sits up.

“Whasgoin’on?” He rubs the sleep from his eyes, but you’re already sprawled on the tiles in the adjacent bathroom floor, emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet. “Mom! No, mom, what’s wrong?!”

“S-stay—stay back,” you cough and wave him away just as before another retch doubles you over, chest heaving when it finally simmers down. “Just give me a second, okay? You don’t want to see this, bud.”

“But are you okay? You got really sick!” He rushes up behind you and starts rubbing your back with a cool little hand. “Ew, you smell kinda funny.”

“Gee, thanks, kiddo.”

“I’m just sayin’!” He holds his nose with one hand, using the other to wrap around your waist and lean into your side. “What does dad do to help you when you’re sick?”

You pull yourself up and over to lean back against the wall, trying to catch your breath and running a hand through Elliot’s curls. “Uses his magic stuff to make me feel better…cuddles with me, just like you’re doing.” You smile weakly down at the little boy, and he quickly lays his little hands on your stomach. “No no no, don’t try it, it’s okay! I feel better!”

“Aw, man.” He sadly retracts his sparking hands—thank god—and nestles back into your side. “I’m getting gooder at my magic, ya know. Dad’s teachin’ me real good.”

“I don’t doubt it, Elliot,” you assure him with a light squeeze of a hug. “But you probably shouldn’t test out any of your magic on people, okay?”

He nods seriously, patting your stomach gently. “Good idea. I gotta be careful with your tummy now, too.”

“Don’t worry, buddy, this is just a bug. I’m already feeling better.”

Elliot shakes his head and crawls onto your lap, leaning down to put his ear to your stomach—what in the world? He listens for a moment and suddenly the wheels in your brain start turning: oh my god. This couldn’t mean…?

The little boy sits up again and feels your stomach one more time, focusing hard on something. “Nope, s’not a bug,” he smiles and gives your belly another gentle pat. “It’s just my baby tryna say hi.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Six pregnancy tests later, there’s no doubt about it. How Elliot figured it out before you even had a hunch, you have no idea, but the little piece of plastic drops from your hand when you flop face-first onto the bed, mind swirling.

This isn’t a surprise.

Elliot had asked. Loki and you had talked, agreed; this is what you want. But really, baby?

Now?

Loki doesn’t get back for another four months. Pregnancies are hard; you’re not going to pretend they aren’t, and to not have your husband here to help you through it…this is going to be much different than when you were pregnant with Elliot.

You glance once more at the last test: positive as ever.

Pregnant. Again.

Sighing audibly, you roll over on the bed and grab Loki’s pillow, hugging it to your chest and breathing deeply, eyes drifting shut.

“We’re gonna be fine,” you whisper, your voice serving more to soothe your own racing mind than anything, “we’re gonna have another baby, and we’re gonna be fine.”

You bury your face in the pillow, hugging it tighter. It smells like Loki—heavenly.

That’ll have to do for the next four months.

* * * *

“What does dad wanna name the baby?”

The plastic fork scrapes against Elliot’s plate in grating anticipation of your answer. He’s picking at his lunch; his appetite hasn’t been quite so bottomless with Loki having been gone for so long.

For yours, on the other hand, the exact opposite is true.

“Dad…doesn’t know yet.” You rip another chunk of bread from the entire baguette in your hand and dip it in butter. This baby seems to have an appetite for seven and a particular fondness for carbs.

Wonderful.

“That’s ok,” Elliot nods thoughtfully. “Names are hard to come up with. I think it should be…blueberry! Cause I love blueberries so much and I love my baby—”

“No, no, I meant…” you struggle to swallow your mouthful of bread and hold up a finger. “Dad doesn’t know that we’re having a baby yet.”

“Why not?”

…yeah, that’s a good question. You probably should’ve called Loki a good while ago, when you’d found out you’re expecting—I mean, it’s his kid too.

But telling Loki he’s going to have a second child just seems like something you don’t do over the phone.

“I don’t want to miss his reaction,” you answer honestly, shoving another chunk of baguette in your mouth. “I wanna sh-uprise ‘im when ‘e gets home.”

Translation: I’m terrified.

Elliot eagerly claps his hands together, the fork falling to the table with a clatter. “That’s a good idea!” He squeals, jumping up to run over and climb into your lap, laying his little hands on your belly. “Dad’s gonna be so excited to meet Blueberry, he’s gonna cry—”

“We are not naming this baby after a fruit. Sorry, kiddo.”

* * * *

An agonising two more months pass, lonely and chock-full of horrid cravings, mood swings, aches and pains and puking nearly every single morning…this baby already seems to hate you.

Elliot’s been a little trooper the past four months.

Hugs whenever you need them, plenty of crayon drawings of your family so you “don’t miss dad too much,” peace and quiet when you fall asleep at the table again, even a few attempted breakfasts in bed. He’s been so sweet and helpful when you know he misses his dad more than anything, so today you drag yourself out of bed, throw up once for good measure, and tell him to get ready for an ice cream trip.

Loki was supposed to be home a week ago, but you can’t let yourself think about that.

Driving with your little bump of a belly is starting to get really uncomfortable, but you make it alright to the little ice cream parlour that Elliot claims makes the best cotton candy ice cream of all time.

“I miss my dad,” Elliot pipes up while you’re sitting in silence, a faint bluish tint to his skin due to the coldness of the ice cream. “He shouldn’t hafta leave ever again.”

“Same here, kiddo, I’m sorry.” You lay a hand on your belly and try to give Elliot a reassuring smile. “This little monster misses him too, but they’re just glad that they have an awesome big brother to take care of them!”

That brings a halfhearted smile to the little boy’s face, and he goes back to licking his ice cream cone, watching you with reddish eyes deep in thought.

“Y’know, dad loves you, mom.” Elliot reaches over to take your hand in his tiny, sticky one, much to your surprise. “He loves you a whole lot, I know it, and he’s not gonna be angry that we’re havin’ another baby.”

Your jaw drops.

What the hell??

Your son, who is apparently getting some kind of crazy read on your thoughts right now, leans over the table and plants a sticky blue kiss to the back of your hand—just like he’s seen Loki do countless times. “Don’t be ‘fraid of him, he’s gonna be so super excited.”

Part of you kind of wants to run away screaming, but maybe mothers shouldn’t do that to their children, so you just gape like a dying fish at the strange little mini-Loki in front of you.

“I’m…I uh…” your mouth opens and closes a few times while your brain tries to catch up. “I’m not…I’m not scared of dad, Elliot, what makes you say that?”

You’re not…right?

Elliot licks his ice cream cone again, catching a drip down his arm. “Nah, you’re ‘voiding your ‘sponsibilities.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re scared to tell dad about Blueberry, right? I heard you in my dream, you told me dad was gonna be upset and get scared to have two kids.”

You swallow hard, trying to find the lie in his innocent statement. “But he—no, he won’t be upset, he wants another kid, he told me.”

This kid is ripping you to shreds, covered in blue and pink melted ice cream.

“S’what you told me,” Elliot shrugs. “Said dad’s gonna like one of us better.”

…you’ve got to pee again.

A blessed escape, cause if Elliot says one more word about Loki or this baby, you’re pretty sure your hormonal self is going to break down in tears.

“I’ll—I’ll be right back,” you choke, scooting your chair back with a loud scrape and pulling yourself to your feet. “Are you okay to stay here? I’ll only be a couple minutes right over there, no talking to strangers, you know the rules.”

Elliot nods, looking worried as you swipe at your eyes and set down your cup of ice cream with shaking hands. “You okay, mom?”

“Fine, fine, I’ll be right back,” You mutter and rush off to the bathroom.

You certainly didn’t look fine, but Elliot shrugs to himself and goes back to his ice cream, keeping a wary eye on the other people in the shop.

“Did your mother just leave you out here all alone?”

Elliot spins around in his chair at the voice, dropping his ice cream cone to the floor and bringing his hands up ready to fight whoever is approaching him—Loki’s taught him enough to fend for himself.

But when he whirls around, he immediately lowers his hands and jumps out of his chair—it’s Loki.

“DAD!” Elliot scrambles out of the chair and bolts into Loki’s waiting arms, knocking him over with the force of his hug. “Dad, dad, you’re home! You’re home!!”

“That I am,” Loki laughs, hugging the little boy tightly to his chest. “I missed you so much, Elliot, so much.”

“Hey!” Elliot points a little finger into Loki’s chest, suddenly serious. “Don’t you ever leave us again, ‘kay??”

“Of course, I’m so sorry I had to—”

“Pinky promise??” Elliot shoves his little finger in Loki’s face, and the god chuckles, extending his own to seal the promise.

“Pinky promise. Hopefully.”

Satisfied with the agreement, Elliot jumps off his dad and rushes back to the table, frowning at the sticky mess that’s left of his ice cream on the floor. “You owe me an ice cream, dad, look whatcha made me do.”

“My sincerest apologies, young man,” Loki chuckles, swooping the kid up in his arms for another squirming hug, trying to sneak a few tickling kisses somewhere on his face. “Where is your mother?”

You come out of the bathroom just in time to hear Elliot answer “hidin’ from you, I think,” and you stop dead in the middle of the shop when you see your husband smiling wide and holding Elliot in his arms.

“Elliot! No I’m not!” You shake yourself out of your shocked daze, running over to the two of them and nearly knocking them over when you throw your arms around Loki’s neck.

Immediately setting Elliot back on the ground, Loki breathes your name and draws you into the tightest embrace he can manage, his arms clutching you so close you have to plant your hands on his chest and gently push him away to keep him from hurting your belly.

He doesn’t seem to notice, but Elliot sure does.

Loki’s hands cradle your face as he pulls away and just stares at you for a moment, trying to decide if words could even begin to describe how happy he is to be with you again.

“I missed…oh, come here.”

He laughs with watering eyes and pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours over and over until neither of you can breathe, half laughing, half teary-eyed because he’s here, you’re all here, together finally.

“That was—mmph—too long,” you laugh around Loki’s relentless lips, keeping a hand to his chest to keep him from your baby bump.

Elliot bounces on the balls of his feet, glad to see his parents so happy again, but sticks a hand between you both to cover your belly. “Careful, dad, don’t hurt my b—”

“ELLIOT!” You cut him off with a nervous chuckle, shooting him a pointed look—shh!

The little boy claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Sorry.”

“What for?” Loki asks with a breathless laugh, his hand cradling the back of your head to keep you pressed against him.

“Nothing, nothing,” you assure him, kissing him again. “Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re home, Loki. Tell us everything!”

He holds you away from him for a moment with his hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down with a dopey grin on his face—you’re really glad you wore a too-big shirt today, it covers your beginning baby bump pretty well.

“You look incredible,” he murmurs, shaking his head in disbelief—he missed you. His eyes fall on your chest and linger for a half a second longer; your breasts seem…bigger than when he left.

Trust me, he would know.

But he shakes it away and pulls up a chair, and the three of you launch into a detailed retelling of everything you’ve missed over the past four months.

“Well, everything went wrong the moment I stepped foot in Asgard.” He leans forward, eager to tell his story. “There had been an attempt on the relics, and rumours of more to come, so we had to—what’s so funny?”

Elliot’s covering his mouth with a sticky hand, desperately trying to muffle the giggle-fit overcoming him as he looks at you: you’re clutching your stomach with an extremely pained grimace, trying to get comfortable in the little metal chair.

“Nothin’…” he snorts and quickly looks away from you when you glare at him. “What happened next, dad?”

“Okay…” Loki shoots you a confused glance and you quickly grin back, trying not to look like there’s a tiny human laying directly on your bladder right now.

How’s that working out for you?

“Are you alright, my love? You look like you’re in pain.”

“Just a stomachache!” Your gritted laughter is nervous but hopefully convincing enough.

“Are you sure? Just tell me, darling, I can disspell the sickness in less than a second—Elliot!” He whirls around in his chair to glare halfheartedly at the little boy giggling again. “Your mother is in pain, why are you smiling??”

“‘Cause I know something you don’t know,” Elliot sings, clapping his hands with glee and wiggling around in his seat. “Mhm, I’ve got a secret, ‘n I’m not tellin’—”

“Elliot. That’s enough.”

You reach over and pull the little guy into your lap, clamping both hands over his mouth and smiling sweetly at your husband—who just looks very confused. And a little worried.

He’s made it pretty clear that there would be no secrets in this little family of yours.

“Our son…has a secret?” Speaking to you, not Elliot, he raises an eyebrow and it’s not exactly amused. “Care to enlighten me, wife?”

“Don’t worry, Loki, it’s not a secret,” you sooth, tapping Elliot’s mouth twice before letting him go again. “It’s more of…a surprise, really.”

Elliot clasps his hand behind his back and rocks forward on his toes, excited eyes darting back and forth between you and Loki.

“I don’t like surprises.”

“But you’re really gonna like this one,” Elliot promises, sending an overly dramatic attempt of a wink your way.

Unbelievable.

Letting out a dismayed groan, you drop your forehead to your hand. “Elliot, please stop…”

Loki crosses his arms, already looking a little on the defensive side with lips tightly pressed together—this is exactly why you didn’t want to tell him. Way to go, kid.

“If you have something to tell me, tell me now.”

“I—can I tell you at home? Later?”

The god sighs, not able to help feeling as if the joy of your reunion had been let out faster than the air in a deflating balloon—now he’s worried, feeling excluded, almost offended.

Secrets. Never a good idea within a family.

“Don’t worry, snowflake,” you chirp with feigned nonchalance. “You’re gonna love this surprise.”

Your fingers cross under the table.

* * * *

Loki doesn’t bring it up the rest of the day.

You’d guessed he would mention it again at least during dinner, try to pry the information from you, but he smiled and listened to Elliot talk about his loose tooth, eating his food apparently unbothered.

Your knee hasn’t stopped nervously bouncing since you sat down.

Maybe he knows? If Elliot felt it, Loki certainly could. The kid’s voice is still echoing through your mind as you get Elliot ready for bed:

“You told me dad was gonna be upset and get scared to have two kids.”

Okay, maybe you’re a little worried that Loki’s past may hinder his enthusiasm for a second child, but you’ve never even admitted to yourself that he would be upset or scared. But the more you think about it, the more sense it makes: he would be terrified.

Favouring one child over another? That would be Loki’s worst nightmare, yet he hadn’t brought that up when Elliot first asked for a sibling. He’d happily agreed to have a second kid, kissing away your concerns…

Hugging your arms around yourself, you stare at his back from the doorway. His hair is lazy, pulled into a mindless knot on the top of his head; he looks relaxed, doing dishes. At peace with his life.

His life with his wife and his one son.

Did he lie to you?

Had he looked you in the eye, said “I want another baby,” and lied?

God of lies, you keep letting yourself forget.

Your mind goes berserk right there in the kitchen, convincing you that he lied to you, that this baby is unwanted, that he only said that he wanted another baby to keep you happy, that no, he didn’t ever want children, he just wanted to fuck you, that everything he’s ever said to you is a lie—

“Your thoughts are deafening, my love.”

You jump with a start as his voice interrupts your destructive train of thought. “Were you listening?” You immediately ask, voice venomous. “Loki, did you listen?”

He turns around and dries off his hands, leaning back against the counter with a sad smile. “Of course not, out of respect for your secret. I trust you to tell me.”

You stare at him, unmoving and unsure, and he pushes himself away from the counter to take a few tentative steps toward you. “Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs, sensing your troubled mind. “You need rest, then you can tell me this secret when you are ready.”

Nodding slowly, you let him take your hand and lead you to the bedroom, keeping your mouth firmly shut. He shuts the door behind you and you walk straight to the bed, laying down and turning your back on him to avoid this as long as possible.

“Don’t you want to change first?” Loki laughs, and the mattress dips as he climbs on next to you, laying right against your body and pulling you back into him. “Those pants can’t be comfortable, let me get them off of you.”

You shake your head—horny, lying bastard.

“…would you like me to draw you a bath?” He’s trying a gentler approach now, noticing your apprehension and holding you closer.

Another shake of the head.

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

Your hand subconsciously falls to your little baby bump, but Loki’s follows right after to cover your own hand with his.

You’re sick of this—just tell him.

You slip your hand out from under his, grab his wrist, and press it to your belly. His breath catches in his throat, you can hear it, and his cold hand gently runs across the swell of your stomach.

“What is this?”

Just say it.

“I’m pregnant.”

He sits straight up behind you and you screw your eyes shut—he’s going to leave now, right?

But he doesn’t leave; instead cold hands grip your waist and pull you onto your back, catching the hem of your shirt and promptly ripping it from your body.

“Loki!”

He looms over you, knees on either side of your body as he stares down at you. His eyes are wide and a distracted hand rubs over his mouth, trying to process this.

“How long have you known?” His voice is barely a breath.

“…four months.”

“You didn’t tell me?”

The hurt on his beautiful face is a sucker punch to the gut—you idiot, of course he wouldn’t be upset. This is Loki we’re talking about, your husband, the father of your child—children.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologise quietly, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t…I thought you-you would be upset.”

He breathes a laugh and carefully runs his fingertips down your sides, trying to memorise the sight of you carrying his child…again.

“Why would I ever be upset, my love? I can’t believe you’re this pregnant and you didn’t tell me—”

“Elliot said something,” you anxiously cut him off. “It was stupid, really, I’m stupid for believing it…” you take a breath and ramble on. “He said he had a dream you got upset about having two kids cause you might like one more than the other.”

Loki pauses his kissing down your torso, freezing with his hand splayed across your baby bump. “How did he…”

“I dunno. He was freaking me out, Loki, he started telling me things I wasn’t even thinking yet.”

“That’s my boy,” the god laughs, resting his forehead on your stomach as your brow knits in concern.

Carding your fingers through his hair, you nudge Loki’s head up to look at you. “This doesn’t worry you?”

“Our son turns blue when he touches something cold.” He presses his lips to your stomach again, eyes tightly shut. “I’m afraid your family isn’t exactly the epitome of human normalcy.”

“Yeah, but Loki, was he right?”

“That I’m scared?” He trails his lips up your baby bump, over your chest and coming to rest firmly over your mouth. “My love…I am terrified.”

“Oh.”

Your arms wind around his neck and pull him back down to your lips—maybe if you keep kissing him, he won’t be able to see the disappointment in your eyes.

It works for a little bit, and you nearly lose yourself completely when he starts gently nipping at your lips and moving to tend to your neck; he’s making you drunk on him with the flip of a switch.

It’s too easy for him.

“Loki.” Your hands curl tighter in his hair.

“Hmm.”

“Then why did you tell me you wanted another kid?”

The god pauses, moving from your collarbone back to your face to frown down at you. His fingers are cold along your jaw. “Because I do want another kid.”

“But you’re terrified.”

“And you’re not?”

That makes your mouth snap shut, eyes darting around the room to avoid his piercing gaze. Of course you’re nervous, it’s not like you have any better ideas of how to raise a child—and you’re the one carrying it, for god’s sake.

“I don’t think I need to say more.” Loki smiles, soft and edging closer to the sad end of the spectrum. “I’m always scared. Of you, of my son…and now my second child.”

You still can’t look at him. Shame, maybe.

“I’m terrified of you, did you know that?” He’s kissing you again, lazy lips soft along the outline of your own, up and down your jaw. “Terrified of you, our future, our children. I could lose you in seconds.”

“That’s optimistic.” You try for a cracked smile.

Cool lips meet yours, firm as his hand traces over your baby bump. “It’s realistic, actually. Keeps me honest with myself.”

“We’re not leaving you, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

“But I don’t deserve for you to stay.”

Here we go again.

“Why do you always do this??” You force a playful smile onto your face and sit up, a hand on Loki’s chest pushing him off of you onto the bed. “There you go hating yourself again, sheesh.”

Grateful for the change in subject, you roll over halfway on top of him and mold your lips to his—his, parted slightly in surprise. Your hands cradle his face, stroking through his hair and over his cheekbones as you pour every ounce of adoration you possess for him into the kiss.

Then it really clicks, just how much you missed him.

Maybe that’s why you feel this…disconnect.

Within seconds his shirt is off too, your hands scouring every inch of his skin you can reach, Loki’s breathing becoming shallower as he fumbles with belts and tries to hold your face to his at the same time.

“Missed you,” he whispers hoarsely, giving up on the belt and falling into you, shaking hands holding your neck and waist in a death grip. “My family, I missed you both, and this new one—”

His voice cracks and he moves down, littering every inch of you with kisses that come to rest on the swell of your stomach as his hands hold tight to your hips.

“I’m beyond excited.” It’s nothing more than a whisper. “Terrified, scared out of my mind, but I am so, so happy our family is growing.”

“You sure?” You tangle your fingers in his hair and tip his head up to smile down at him.

“Do I need to prove it?”

God, you missed him.

You grab hold of his face and pull him up, smashing your lips to his. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

So he does.

At least, he tries, until a yell for dad echoes down the hall.

“Good to see nothing has changed,” Loki sighs, pressing one last kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t you go anywhere, we’re not done here.”

You throw a pillow at him with a laugh as he winks and slips out the door.

Elliot is awake, as expected, sitting in his bed clutching the blankets to his chest, a strangely bright smile on his little face. “Hey dad!”

Loki raises an eyebrow. “Hey…”

“You awake?”

“I am now, clearly.” He sits on the edge of the bed and plants a kiss on the top of Elliot’s head. “Why did you call for me?”

The little boy shrugs. “Just wonderin’.”

“…if I was awake?”

“Yup.”

They stare at each other for a second—

—Loki confused and battling with the fact that he just had to leave you on the bed to come take care of this kid, and Elliot scrunching his nose up in the biggest grin at his dad, just happy to see him.

“I’m…going to go back to bed now.” Loki points at the door, giving his son a strange look. “Unless you have literally anything else to tell me? Redeem my coming in here?”

“Nope!” Elliot throws his arms out in a request for a hug.

…that Loki all too happily delivers.

“Oh! Did mom tell you the secret yet?” He whispers, squeezing Loki tighter with arms thrown around his neck.

“She did,” Loki chuckles. “Are you excited?”

“I can’t wait! We’re gonna be bestest friends and I’m naming it Blueberry cause I love blueberries and I love my baby so I’m gonna—”

“Blueberry??”

“Yeah!”

Loki shakes his head with a laugh. “Blueberry Lokason. A name for the ages, without a doubt.”

Elliot beams at his father’s approval and Loki ruffles a hand through his curly hair. “Come on, go to sleep. You shouldn’t be awake right now.”

“Well you guys woke me up…” he grumbles, flopping down on his pillow.

Not again. Loki freezes, face twisting in worry—you hadn’t even started. If that was too loud, then by the end of the night the whole neighbourhood is going to be awake. “Were we being too loud?”

“Nah.” A little smile spreads over the kid’s face. “Mom’s just happy, real happy, and it woke me up.”

“You…you can feel that?”

“Yup. Just like you.” He nuzzles deeper into his pillow. “Thought’ya might wanna know, dad, ‘case you forgot.”

With a face as precious as that, Loki doesn’t have the heart to tell him that’s not just like him…that’s not exactly how his access to the mind works, but the last thing Elliot needs is another reason to believe he’s unusual.

“In case I forgot what, Elliot?” He smiles and kisses the boy’s forehead, running a hand through his hair.

“How to tell when mom’s happy!” He opens his eyes and rolls onto his back, grinning up at Loki. “I almost forgotted too, she’s been sad so long. S’why I woke up!”

“Well.” Loki’s heart twists painfully in his chest. “Thank you. I think I remember now.”

“I gotcha covered, daddy.”

“Go to sleep, little giant.”

* * * * * * * *

The walk down the hall back to the room leaves Loki wondering.

He…felt it.

The kid could tell you were pregnant before you even knew, he could tell that you were nervous to tell Loki, he knew that Loki was scared before he’d admitted it to you…now he felt that you were happy? Strong enough to wake him up?

Apparently Elliot can do a lot more than just turn blue.

The thought of that is terrifying.

All Loki can think of as his hand rests hesitantly on the doorknob is what he’s done. What he’s passed on to this child, unwillingly taking another life down with his own curses.

Elliot’s life is going to be full of pain, if this is what he is capable of. It’s bad enough that he has no control over the shifting of his skin, no thanks to the fruitless attempts Loki has made to figure out how to help him, but now…

Loki starts when you open the door.

“What’d he need?”

You’re smiling—happy, Loki can tell this time. He silently thanks Elliot for the reminder.

“A hug.” He quickly smiles back. “Wanted to know if I was awake…the usual midnight Elliot inquiries.”

“Can I get one?”

You hold your arms out and grin, giddy and irresistibly bright, and Loki steps forward to sweep you into his arms.

“I’ll give you a bit extra, too,” he chuckles, peppering your neck with light kisses as he walks you backward towards the bed. Your knees hit the edge and you fall onto the mattress, grabbing him behind the neck to bring him down with you.

An arm by your head to keep him hovering over you, Loki pauses, just smiling down at you as a few lingering laughs leave your lips.

“Are you happy, my love?”

Cold fingers run down your cheek and he leans down, brushing his lips against yours.

“Of course I am,” you mumble, tangling your fingers in his hair to keep him close. “You’re home, I’ve got the best little kid sleeping down the hall, and we’ve got another one on the way.” Another peck on the lips. “I’m way past happy, snowflake.”

“Good,” he whispers, and decides that’s going to be enough for him.

That’ll be enough for all four of you.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettrosella @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @vast-ish @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @little-scintilla @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective

#loki x reader #loki reader insert #dad!loki #loki x pregnant!reader #loki x reader fluff #loki imagine #loki requests #loki drabbles #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #elliot lokason #elliot lokison

2K notes · View notes

tehrevving · 5 years ago

Note

can i get a dante x reader fic in a laundromat. like those boys have a washing machine lmao.

Ok, but Dante naked in the laundromat at 3am is my new kink.

All things considered, it wasn’t a bad job. You honestly weren’t even sure why your boss hired you. The answer as to why an automated laundromat needed a night attendant was beyond you, but it didn’t matter. Basically you just did whatever you wanted all night, it helped pay the bills, and really that was all that mattered.

Tonight, or this morning, working the night shift was confusing sometimes; you were binge watching another series on netflix that you didn’t really care about while reading some quite well written erotica that your friend had recommended to you. It was 2:47am when you finished the latest chapter and honestly, it was about time for a bathroom break. You had seriously considered giving yourself some quick release after the last few steamy chapters but, the thought of how absolutely gross the bathroom down the street was made you think twice about it.

Anyway, you got up, stretching your aching muscles and headed off for a much needed bathroom break.

You had been gone maybe 10 minutes and weren’t really paying any attention when you returned. It took far too long for you to notice the humming and gushing of water signifying that the machines were in use. You looked up finally, always curious about who the fuck was out doing their laundry at 3am.

You were absolutely not expecting what you saw.

Standing next to the row of washing machines was a tall and very fucking naked man with his back to you. His long white hair shook as he hummed and danced to a tune that you couldn’t make out.

“Holy Fuck!” You exclaimed, much louder than you expected it to be, but honestly what other reaction was appropriate?

The man noticed you then and slowly turned around until he was facing you. He was older, attractive and with a good body. He made absolutely no effort to cover up his nakedness and you struggled to draw your eyes away from the very large, flaccid just cock just lying right there against his leg.

He started walking towards you and his fucking cock jiggled with every step.

Eventually you managed to draw your eyes up to his face, but you couldn’t look him in the eyes. You saw him wink at you out of the corner of your vision and you couldn’t help but blush.

“I didn’t realise there would be such a pretty attendant here at this time,” he said, his voice low and flirty.

You were speechless.

“Name’s Dante,” he drawled, holding his hand out for you to shake.

You introduced yourself with a stammer, reluctantly shaking his hand, figuring it would be pretty rude for you not to. At least with him being this close to the counter, you weren’t able to see his dick.

“I guess we’re stuck here together for the next few hours,” he winked again, “let me know if you need anything,” he said, and then turned around chuckling as he moved to sit on one of the benches near the machines.

He pulled out a magazine, you couldn’t make out the contents from where you were but you were pretty sure there was a scantily clad woman on the front of it. He was still naked, his bare ass on the bench and you could still see this fucking dick.

“Umm, Dante,” you called out to him and he looked over at you. “Would you mind, umm, covering up?”

“Oh,” he said and then looked down at himself, “honestly I’d forgotten I wasn’t wearing anything,” he stopped and thought for a moment, “all of my clothes are in the wash though.”

“Let me look through the lost and found for you,” you stammered, reaching underneath the desk to pull out the old cardboard box.

The gods were not fucking on your side today. The lost and found box was totally empty apart from a single in-date magnum condom. What the fuck?

By the time you’d finished screaming internally, the man had gotten up and stood near enough to the counter that you could make out the fucking veins on his cock.

“Find anything doll?” He was smiling, looking straight at you and smug as he cocked his hip. It was like he was trying to get you to look at his penis.

You shook your head, “no.”

“What a shame,” he said and then he laughed, brushing his hair back from his face as he lowered his voice and stooped over slightly so he was closer to your height. “I could always wear you instead sweetheart.”

It took far too long for you parse his words, your mouth hanging open like a fish while your brain struggled to catch up. He was hot, you were still pretty horny from reading porn and well, it’s highly unlikely that anyone else is gonna come into the laundromat.

“Has that line ever worked for you?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“I dunno. You tell me. First time I’ve ever used it.”

You leant over the counter so you were closer to his face. “It’s only gonna work because I’ve been reading porn all night and I’m fucking horny. OK?”

Dante laughed, “Jackpot!” He beckoned you over to him.

You reached down and grabbed the single fucking condom out from the lost and found box.

You made a show of looking him up and down as you walked around the counter towards him, focusing between his legs, “you’re a magnum right?”

He laughed, “come here.”

He pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around your body and leaning down to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and his stubble was rough against your skin. He was warm and you couldn’t help but run your hands against the bare skin of his chest. He pulled you flush against his skin, his teeth teasing at your lips. It didn’t take long until you could feel the press of his cock against your leg as it started to stir.

Dante lifted you up effortlessly, you clung onto his arms for dear life but he seemed confident enough. He deposited you on top of the currently whirring washing machine and you gasped slightly at the vibrations of it against your heated body.

He leant down and started to undress you, pulling off your baggy sweatpants and underwear until you were bare and smearing your arousal against the grimy plastic of the washing machine.

You put your hands on his hips and pulled him close to you. He let out a groan as your bodies slotted together. You kissed him, pushed your tongue down his throat as you felt him shift so his hand was pumping at his cock.

Dante pulled away with a groan, slightly breathless as he plucked the condom from your grasp. You chanced a look downwards to watch him put it on and holy shit, his dick was even bigger hard; thick and long it seemed like it took an age for him to finish rolling it down his cock.

The he was winking at you, leaning down and pulling you to his body. He manipulated your body until your teeth were at his shoulder and his cock was pressing against your entrance.

“Feel free to use your teeth if you need to sweetheart,” he smirked and then began to slowly press forward.

You did end up clawing at him, your teeth pressing marks into his skin. He went slowly and between the lube on the condom and your own slick he sank inside of you easily enough. But he was big and thick, and the burn was intense, soothed only slightly by the vibrations of the washing machine underneath you.

His hands squeezed hard at your ass when he finally bottomed out inside of you. A small groan escaping his lips and he panted slightly. “Shit, that doesn’t normally happen,” he said, pulling away slightly to look down at where your bodies were joined, where practically the entirety of his cock was sheathed inside of you. “Damn,” he breathed.

“Move,” you said to him, bucking your hips digging your nails into his back until he had no choice but to oblige.

He started off slowly at first, setting a rhythmic pace but with the vibrations of the machine spurring you along, you couldn’t maintain it for very long. Soon he was fucking you with long, hard strokes, his large cock pressing against every sensitive spot inside of you.

“Shit, you feel so good,” he groaned against your ear, but you were too busy trying not to bite all the way through the soft skin of his neck.

He picked up his pace as your cries began to reach a fever pitch, as the washing machine underneath you whirred louder and stronger as it neared the end of its cycle.

Dante fucked you roughly, his hands pushing and pulling at your ass. He took his own pleasure from you, but as the heat kept building and building inside of you, you couldn’t even care.

The vibrating of the washing machine reached a fever pitch and you cried out and came around his cock. Dante moaned and his hips stuttered as your body tightened impossibly around him. He couldn’t help but bury himself deep inside of you and come.

He practically flopped over on the washing machine, his hair falling in your face with his weight an almost unpleasant press on your body. The washing machine underneath you decided to start beeping then, signalling that the load was done.

Dante laughed and then swore, pulling himself upright. Your whined at the loss of sensation as he pulled out of you.

He helped you get down off the washing machine and help you up while your shaky legs recovered. You found your pants on the floor and struggled to pull them on as you watched Dante begin to transfer his clothes from the washing machine into the dryer.

His cock was still slightly hard, sticking straight up and bobbing as he moved. It looked fucking ridiculous and you couldn’t help but laugh.

He looked at you, slightly hurt as he turned on the dryer. He sat back down on the bench and beckoned you over. You sat down in his lap and got comfortable against his chest.

“I gotta start doing my washing more often.” he chuckled, smirking down at you.

You just punched him in the shoulder and laughed, unsure of what the fuck just happened and where the fuck you were going to go from here.

#rev writes #dmc #dmc5 #dante #dante x reader #my writing #Anonymous

184 notes · View notes

coneygoil · 5 years ago

Text

The Home We Built Together, part 29

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

Writer’s note: I didn’t expect to update “Home” so soon! Especially after the crazy busy week I had. Big things are coming! Thank you to everyone has kept up with this fic! <3 It’s a year this month that I started it. Didn’t think it would come this far!

“Toothless, you gotta get us out of here, bud.” Hiccup tried to turn his dragon around, but Toothless shook him off.

As much as Astrid had worked with Toothless and the arena dragons in peace, forming bonds and alliances, this situation she was in now was surreal and downright terrifying. These dragons didn’t know her, and her and Hiccup could easily become apart of their kill if one got the wild hair to try. Toothless would defend them, she trusted for the most part, but with the strange way he was acting, she wasn’t completely sure of that right now.

They continued to fly in the hoard of dragons through the thick fog until they broke through the veil once again to see the chilling sight of the volcano island. The dragons clustered together as they flew through a hole in the side of the volcano. A brief bout of darkness shrouded them. The eerie red glow they’d seen spewing from the top of the mountain was straight ahead of them.

Astrid hadn’t taken note of the heat until it slapped them in the face like scalding steam. She winced as it burned her skin. They exited the tunnel into a massive chasm. Many upon many shelves were rived into the sides of the rock, twisted and crude as if the heat itself carved them. Through the smoky haze that made Astrid’s eyes sting, she spotted different species of dragons clustered together on the shelves. They didn’t look happy or at home at all, more like alert and anxious. They circled around the hole, red hot flickering up from its bottomless pit.

“What my dad wouldn’t give to find this,” Hiccup commented, seeming far more calm about the entire situation than she felt.

Astrid pressed the bottom of her face into his shoulder guard, eyes flicking all around. Meeting the band of dragons on the island’s shore was a pleasant picnic compared to the terrifying sight they were faced with now. Astrid had never seen so many dragons in her life. Not even during the most turbulent raids!

After making a wide swing above the pit, Toothless landed on a rocky shelf, hiding behind a formation whittled large enough to shield them. He peeked around the rock along with Hiccup. Astrid stretched over Hiccup’s back; her view lessened by her position. A steady flow of dragons continued to pour in, dropping their prizes into the red haze.

“It’s satisfying to know all our food as been dumped down a hole.”

“They’re not eating any of it.”

Astrid still didn’t understand everything about dragons, but this was the most baffling behavior yet. Why would they sacrifice their food to a volcano?

The stream of dragons had slowed, only a light green Gronckle lazily buzzing in. It hovered above the middle of the pit and coughed up a small fish from its mouth. It looked so innocent and oblivious as it hovered there scratching an itch. A roar echoed from deep in the pit.

Astrid didn’t think she could find anything more frightening than being in a volcano with a thousand dragons. She was wrong. A massive head, ten times bigger than the largest boulder on Berk, emerged from the pit. It’s mouth, full of teeth longer than the tallest trees, chomped at the Gronckle and the poor dragon was no more.

Her and Hiccup shared a gasp, shaken to the core, as they both pulled back father behind the rock shielding them. The monstrous dragon’s nostrils inhaled in a powerful sniff that echoed throughout the cavern. A new smell amid the Sulphur and dragon scales. Astrid’s heart stopped. It had detected their presence.

“Get us out of here, bud,” Hiccup commanded.

Astrid barely had time to grab hold of Hiccup before they shot off. From the corner of her stinging eyes, she caught a glimpse of a massive dark streak aiming straight at their former hiding spot. A sickening chomp followed.

They flew upwards into the blinding mass of dragons as they circled toward the opening of the volcano to escape. Astrid could feel herself slipping and let go of Hiccup’s waist for only a split second to regain her grip. She didn’t realize what was happening until she felt herself falling. She barely heard her screams in the cacophony of chaos all around her. Her mind blanked, feeling as if she would pass out, and then her body suddenly connected with a hard surface. Screwing her eyes shut, she tried to suck in a much-needed breath, but the surrounding gases burned her lungs.

Her body hurt, mainly her back and legs, but miraculously nothing felt broken. It’d felt like an eternity, but in perspective, she hadn’t fallen far at all. A ledge protruding from the volcano’s upper level had caught her. She quickly looked over the side to watch a poor Zippleback get snatched up by the massive dragon’s mouth. She’d begged for that sacrifice to appease the colossus, but its nostrils drew in a deep sniff – clearly gifted with an amazing sense of smell.

It rose up higher, sniffing the side of the volcano, closer and closer to where Astrid had landed. Astrid scurried back on her bottom, the ledge providing no place to hide. Her stomach flipped violently as she pressed her back into the hot rock wall, awaiting her doom as the dragon’s nose drew closer.

She could hardly believe her ears at the sound of a Night Fury blast. A blue plasma blast shot directly at the massive dragon’s many eyes. It reared back, screaming it’s protest. Another blast hit it again, drawing it further away from the ledge. One more blast to the face and it retreated downward.

Tears pricked at Astrid’s eyes when the familiar form of Toothless landed on the ledge. She ignored the protest of her aching body and jumped in the saddle, securing her arms around Hiccup’s waist. Toothless launched toward the volcano’s hole once more, the path now free of retreating dragons. A deafening roar shook through the cavern. The giant of a dragon made one more attempt at catching them, but Toothless was faster and long eluded the hundreds of teeth as it clamped down on air behind them.

Astrid didn’t open her eyes until they were high in the night sky away from the veil of fog. She pressed her face between Hiccup’ shoulder blades, arms wrapped nearly completely around his middle. Trembles traveled throughout her body, from her inner core to the tips of her fingers.

“Astrid?” Hiccup’s voice reached through the screaming in her head. She jumped involuntarily when his hand touched her arm. “Astrid, are you okay?”

For the first time since they’d entered the volcano, Astrid took a deep breath, the intake of oxygen somewhat soothing her shaken nerves and reviving her stifled lungs. She nodded against his back. “I’m okay.”

The response was enough for Hiccup, and they flew in heavy silence for a long time, the choppy sea sloshing down below them. Astrid clung to her husband, his warmth and presence a balm to her shaken state. Finally, the achy chill of the night air roused her from her stupor. She shoved away the fresh memories, determined to think like a warrior again. This massive, monstrous thing was out there, threatening dragons and Vikings’ lives. This was not okay.

“That island—” she began, close to Hiccup’s ear so he could hear her clearly, “it’s like a hive. The dragons are her workers and that’s their queen. It controls them.” She paused, letting Hiccup mull over the theory. She knew he’d come to the same conclusion, probably faster than she had. “Hiccup, what’re we going to do about this?”

His head dropped as a heavy sigh left him. “I don’t know.”

He wouldn’t like this. “We need to tell your dad when he comes back from the campaign.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. He could be back at any day.” He sliced a hand through the air, resolved. “No, we need to think this through.”

“Hiccup, he deserves to know. We just discovered the dragon’s nest. The thing we’ve been after since Vikings first sailed here.”

“But we need to stick to the plan first. Show my dad that dragons aren’t what we thought they were. Do you think a fleet of Vikings could take down that thing?”

Astrid played the scenario in her head. A battle between a fleet of Vikings and the gigantic red dragon that could eat half the village’s warriors in one gulp. Would the queen’s own army rally behind her? Or would they mutiny against her? If the dragons did choose the queen, no matter how courageous Berk’s fleet was, they’d be wiped out within seconds.

The warrior part of her hated to admit it but, “No. They probably wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Hiccup twisted around, causing Astrid to loosen her hold and lean back to see him better. In the light of the moon, she could see determination shining in his eyes, a resolve that couldn’t be shaken. He looked stronger than he ever had before. “Give me time. I’ll think of something that will free the dragons and end the war. For good.”

Astrid knew he would keep his word.

The rest of the journey home fell quiet as they traveled over the sea, the moon casting a long spotlight on the water. They were dead on their feet as they trekked back to the village from the cove, hand in hand. Daylight was most likely a few hours away.

Astrid sat on their bed, donning her nightgown. Her bones felt as if they’d collapse in a heap from exhaustion, but her mind was still reeling even after all the hours that had passed since their harrowing experience on Dragon Island. She absently brushed her hair, taken down from the braid. Her gaze stared blankly at the wall while her mind’s eyes were somewhere far away--

Glowing red, pulsating eerily off the cavern walls. The jarring hurt from the fall. The scrapes stinging and the bruises blooming. The powerful intake of the red dragon’s breath as it searched for her. The burning heat on her back pressed against the hot rock. The consuming fear of being found and eaten alive. Drawing closer and closer…

“Astrid?”

A shuttering breath escaped from her thickened throat. She barely realized she’d flung herself at Hiccup, sob after sob raking out as she clung to him. His slender arms enveloped her, pulling her against him. She wasn’t sure how long she cried into the curve of his neck, releasing all the fear and distress that she’d kept at bay for hours.

Hiccup did not carry much muscle, but as he held her in the wee hours of the morning, he was the strength that she needed.

Tags: @martabm90 @chiefhiccstrid @drchee5e @celtictreemuffin @hey-its-laura-again

#httyd fanfiction #hiccstrid #arranged marriage au #the home we built together

74 notes · View notes

areyoureadyforsomemeatballz · 6 years ago

Text

Cast Away (4): Something Gilligan Never Told Us

Summary: After a mission gone awry, you end up stranded on a deserted island. While you know that you have the skills to survive in the desolate paradise, you’re not sure if your heart will.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,000

Warnings: Swearing, death by coconuts, general sassiness?

A/N: What’s up my dudes? I’m back at you with another chapter. I hope you all enjoy it, as always please leave me a comment (even if its to scream at me.) There’s nothing I love more than talking with you guys! Side note: I’ve got some exciting news for my 1,500 follower celebration so stay tuned!

A slow drizzle of water draws you from your restless sleep. Bucky is curled up in a ball at the end of your makeshift bed. He’d insisted on sleeping in shifts for protection, but it looks as if the need to sleep had won out. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You swing your legs over the side and stretch out your back.

Bucky shoots up, his long hair stuck to the drool on his chin. “Where’rya goin’?”

“To grab some water, sleeping beauty,” you whisper. “Go back to sleep.”

He groans and rubs at his bleary eyes. “I’ll go with you.”

You stifle a laugh and reach out to push him back onto the bed. You rethink your action, your hand pausing mid-air. “I have to pee. Also, you need more sleep.”

“‘M fine-” your words finally seem to sink in as his mouth snaps closed. “Oh! Oh, I’ll stay… Yell if you need something, I guess?”

“Sure thing. I always seem to forget toilet paper.”

You can just see the pink tint to his cheeks as he rolls onto his side. You turn from the cave and smile to yourself. You wander into the trees, far enough away from the cave so that he can’t hear you even with the super soldier hearing.

Your walk back to the cave is interrupted by a rustling high above you in the trees. You jump out of the way just in time to avoid a falling coconut. You pick up the fruit and an idea sparks in your head. When you reach your shelter, Bucky has his back propped up against the wall of the cave.

“I was getting worried. You never called for the toilet paper,” Bucky says with a grin. “What’s that?”

“It’s breakfast!”

“How’d you get it?”

You toss him the coconut. “I climbed for it.”

He catches the fruit before it hits him in the face and he drops it to the bed, his face pinched up. “That is so dangerous! You could’ve gotten-”

You roll your eyes and snort, cutting him off. “Relax, mom, it fell out of a tree as I was walking back”

“So, it could have hit you?”

“Barnes!”

A broad smile spreads across his lips and his eyes light up. “I was kidding. A little. Do you think we could get more?”

You raise your eyebrow but can’t help return his happy smile. “I don’t know, nature boy? How versed are you in tree climbing?”

His head tilts to the side and his smile grows. “Steve and I used to climb trees as kids. He fell on top of my head once and I tore my good shirt. God, I thought my ma was going to-” He cuts himself off abruptly and his cheeks flush. “Sorry, you probably don’t wanna hear about-”

You raise your hand to stop his apology. “I’d never turn down the chance to hear about Steve falling on your fat head.”

He laughs softly and stands up, rolling his shoulders as he brushes past you. “Let’s hope I don’t fall on my ‘fat head’ or you’re gonna feel real bad, darlin’.”

You stop in your tracks at the nickname that rolls so easily off his tongue. You shake your head, not noticing Bucky’s widened eyes and his stiff shoulders. He clears his throat and you startle forward, keeping your eyes on the trees ahead.

Bucky’s eyes dart over to you and he taps his fingers on tac pants, the rhythm soothing him. The two of you reach the palm trees and he steps away from you to begin looking for the tree with the most coconuts.

“You’re really going to climb all the way up there, huh?”

Bucky’s shoulders relax, and he glances over his shoulder at you. “Afraid of heights?”

“I’m not the one scaling a hundred-foot tree.”

“You’re a good pep talker, you know that?”

“I’m just saying! Like, that’s really high,” you say with a small smile as you glance up to the sky-high fruit. “Sorry.”

He rolls his eyes and hides his smile. “I think I can manage, thank you very much.”

Bucky moves to strip out of his shirt, his back muscles rippling as he pulls it over his head. He tosses the shirt on a rock beside you.

“Naked apparently.”

His nose scrunches up and he narrows his eyes. “Not naked, just a little less… clothed.”

“Pray tell me your definition of naked, Barnes? Because that sounds an awful lot like naked to me.”

He snorts and slaps his hands together before tearing up the side of the tree with inhuman speed. He’s a blur of strong limbs and quick movements and then he’s at the top, you can just make out his shit-eating grin from the ground.

“Be careful up there, dumbass!” You cup your hands around your mouth and call up to him. “I really don’t want to be alone on this island, as annoying as you are.”

He grips the trunk of the tree with his metal hand and leans back to look at you. “You just want me here to get you coconuts.”

“You caught me.”

A few ripe coconuts drop to the ground beside you, startling you away from the tree. He slides down the tree with an unimaginable grace as if he’d been climbing palm trees all his life. He sweeps the hair from his bright eyes and begins loading up his arms with the coconuts that he had collected.

“Now we just gotta find a way to open these puppies up,” he says and tosses you a couple to carry back to camp. “And maybe figure out how to catch some fish to go with ‘em.”

“You just bang them against a rock really hard right between the eyes. Or maybe use a knife?”

He raises his eyebrow at you, tilting his head at you like a lost puppy. You elbow him in the side with a grin and take off back towards the lagoon.

“What? I’ve watched Man vs. Wild,” you say over your shoulder, catching his ridiculous grin.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“Bear Grylls?” He’s practically scratching his head when you look back at him. “What about Gilligan’s Island? Blue Lagoon? Cast Away?”

He shakes his head. “Did you just have a stroke?”

“You’re killin’ me, Smalls”

“That’s a quote from something isn’t it?”

You gasp and clutch your chest dramatically. “Where have you been, Barnes? We watched The Sandlot last movie night.”

“I think I was on a mission,” he says as he shrugs one shoulder. “I’ve been busy.”

Your jaw drops as you follow him under the cover of the mouth of the cave. He looks around as he decides where to stack his spoils.

“You’ve got to catch up, though! There are so many good things you missed out on. Besides, movies are a great way to unwind, or I think so at least.”

“Maybe you could show me some?” He gives you a small smile as he begins to stack the coconuts near the firepit.

You return his shy smile, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach. “Yeah, maybe.”

Bucky tosses you a knife and a coconut, a gleam in his blue eyes. “Alright show me these survivor skills. You gotta start earning your keep.”

You narrow your eyes at him and use the blunt side of the knife to hit along the center of the coconut. When it splits evenly down the center, Bucky whoops beside you and nudges you with his elbow.

“While we all can’t be tree climbing super-soldiers, I have to try and keep up somehow.”

You pass him half and keep a piece for yourself. “That was pretty impressive.”

“Wait until you see me fish.”

“Really?”

You shake your head with a smile. “Nope.”

“Shit, you had me all excited,” he groans. “I’m starving.”

You laugh as a dribble of coconut milk trickles down his chin, getting lost in his stubble. Bucky narrows his eyes at you, but he keeps eating.

“Copy Steve…” Steve sighs as he listens to Bucky’s jumbled call. “Copy.”

He flinches as a cool hand rests on his broad shoulders. He tears his eyes away from the search radius on the screen in front of him and into a pair of worried eyes.

“You’re going to drive yourself crazy if you keep this up, Steve,” Natasha murmurs. “Come with me.”

“Nat-”

She tugs him up with and holds tight to his hand. “You’re going to come eat some of the dinner that Sam made and then we’re going to catch a nap.”

Steve’s mouth snaps shut as she leads him through the halls, up to the shared kitchen. Sam hands him a plate with a tired smile.

“It’s nice to see you out of the conference room,” Sam’s face pinches up suddenly. “Though you could really use a shower, man. God, the musk in here is… fragrant.”

Natasha snorts and pushes Steve into a chair. “I second that. Eat first.”

“It’s my momma’s recipe. You better not let it go to waste, I already had to ream Tony’s ass.”

Steve rolls his eyes but takes a big forkful of the cheesy pasta. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Thank us by taking care of yourself.”

“But Y/N and-”

“But nothing,” Sam says pointedly.

The three of them gather around the kitchen island, giving Steve time to eat. Natasha wipes a glob of cheese of his chin with a smile. She shares a relieved look with Sam over Steve’s shoulder.

Tony bursts into the kitchen, hair still dripping wet from the shower. “We’ve got a working search radius. It’s still about 500 miles, but it’s something. F.R.I. is trying to narrow it as we speak.”

“That sounds like there’s plenty of time for a nap,” Sam says.

“Stop splashing me,” Bucky cries out as you send another handful of water at his face. “You’re scaring all the fish!”

“You’re one to talk, Barnes!” You wildly gesture to your soaked body. “We started this excursion with you pushing me in the ocean.”

“You were lookin’ a little warm.”

You lift your hand to splash him again and he grips your wrist tightly, something shining in his eyes. You lift your brow and gasp as he dives into the cool water, taking you with him. When he resurfaces the water rolls down from his chocolate hair down his chiseled chest. You tear your eyes away from him and realize how close the two of you are.

His eyes dart down to your lips and he leans impossibly closer. His lips are a breath away when he suddenly jerks away from you. Beside you, a bird dives into the water and reappears with a fish in its beak.

“Fucking showoff,” Bucky mutters as he steps back to give you space. “I just want one fish!”

“He doesn’t have to use a shitty homemade spear, though.”

Bucky grins at you and nods his head. “Who’d of thought I’d be jealous of a bird?”

“You’re jealous of Sam, so that’s old news.”

He bursts out laughing and you grin back at him. “That wasn’t funny,” he gasps through peals of laughter.

“It clearly was, Chuckles.”

He takes a deep breath and clears his throat. “Clearly I’m delirious from hunger.”

“Maybe if you were better at fishing that wouldn’t be a problem.”

He mock-gasps and clutches his chest. “Ouch.”

“Keep trying, Barnes. You’ve gotta start earning your keep,” you say with a grin.

He grasps at his waistband for one of his knives and tosses it into the water, spearing one of the many fish around your feet. You slap his shoulder as he quickly retrieves the fish.

“You couldn’t have done that twenty minutes ago?”

“I didn’t think about it until I saw the bird.”

“Sam will be thrilled that you’re taking pointers from his family.”

He turns away from you with a smile and throws his knife again. You stare at his tanned back, almost able to still feel his strong arms around you.

Please Like/Comment/Reblog if you enjoyed!

369 notes · View notes

letitrainathousandflames-archive · 5 years ago

Text

Exile Au Possible Follow Up

idk this is just a WIP whatever please don’t take me seriously ever

(tw for depression, cutting mention and general clone angst)

Every day in the house is still stifling.

Fives loves having Echo around. He’s even gotten used to Dogma’s strange personality, and his own very particular way of dealing with his demons.

But he – they – were trained to fight, to kill, to win victories to the Republic, and now that the Republic means nothing to them and there’s nothing to fight or kill for... what is he supposed to do?

Fives clenches his fists, looking at the line where the blues of sky and ocean met in the horizon. He hears steps behind him, and then a brother’s voice calling his name. Same as any other vod, although a bit raspy. It’s Echo. He can tell.

“Are you still stalling out here? I’m already done with the laundry and you’re the one in charge of lunch today, remember?”

Fives sighs out sharply.

“Ah, yes, the most important assignment I’ve ever gotten in my whole life: frying Dogma’s stinky catch of the day.”

Echo raises an eyebrow when Fives turns to face him.

“Really? This early in the day and you’re already snarking?” he lets out a small laugh “Y’know, you’re more like Skywalker than you-“

“Don’t say his kriffing name!”

The playful atmosphere - even if a bit dry - is completely gone now. Echo chews on the inside of his cheek, and the silence stretches out for a moment.

“You know, Fives… we never quite got around talking about everything that happened, did we? While I was… away, that is.”

But when Echo draws a breath to continue, Fives walks past him.

“I’m making lunch.”

When he walks into the kitchen and Echo shuts the door behind them, it’s much warmer than the outside, and Fives takes his coat off, tossing it over the back of the couch where Dogma sits with the bes’bev on his lap.

Fives’ eyes widens at the sight of the instrument like it’s a sarlaac ready to swallow the trooper whole.

“What is he doing with that thing?” Fives asks Echo in a hissed whisper

“I can hear you, Fives.” Dogma says in annoyance “Echo said I could keep it. It’s been three weeks now.”

Fives turns to Echo with his eyebrows raised while he walks into the kitchen to gather the spices to cook. He had cleaned the fish earlier in the morning, so all there was left to do was add the condiments and putting it in the oven.

“And you two just decided that without me?”

Echo went to the sink to get a glass of water, shrugging:

“Three weeks seemed enough to me. Dogma likes the bes’bev. We only took it away from him before because he had been… relapsing. He’s doing better now, and he deserves to have it back.”

“And what about what I think?” Fives asks, twisting the pepper grinder over the pink filet “None of you thought about asking me?”

Echo shrugs, drinking his water. Dogma shoots him a glance from the couch with a tiny smile.

“Don’t worry Fives, I won’t stab you in your sleep.”

Fives keeps twisting the grinder and growls:

“You watch your mouth, shebs!”

Echo stomps his foot down, which made quite a loud thud due to his new prosthetics.

“Fives, stop grinding this thing unless you want us all to eat peppers with a dash of fish and apologize to Dogma right now.”

Fives puts the grinder down but does not apologize, now taking a small, sharp knife to mince a handful of green herbs meant for seasoning their dish.

“I’ll apologize when he apologizes.”

“Fives, I-“ Dogma starts to say but Echo raises a hand, interrupting him

“He has.” Echo states dryly “Several times. He doesn’t have to apologize any further, but you certainly do.”

Fives doesn’t say a word, and keeps working in silence. Echo sighs and Dogma just sulks quietly, waving his head as a ‘nevermind’ gesture to Echo. Echo absently scratches his shoulder where scarred skin met metal, waiting one beat before trying again:

“Fives.” he starts, his voice low and collected “Look, I know our situation is not ideal, far from that.” he ignores Fives’ scoffing “But I need you to at least try to make this tolerable to all of us. Think about it, we’re safe. No droids chasing us, no generals sending us into gunfire. We can stop and think for once instead of just keep running around.”

Fives drops the fish filets into the dented baking pan. His ears are ringing and the left one hurts like someone’s stabbing into it. He still doesn’t know what that is but it sure as hell isn’t helping improve his mood. He opens the stove and puts the pan inside, sets the timer on his wrist device and steps out of the kitchen.

“Where’re you going?” Echo asks, and he knows Fives won’t stop even if he calls him back

“Out.” Fives said, putting on his coat “Keep an eye on the oven. I gotta clean the barn.”

“You just cleaned it this morning.”

“The bantha doesn’t schedule her shits, Echo.”

And before Echo can come up with anything to say, Fives opens up the door and leaves. Echo groans, walking out of the kitchen as well.

“Moons, he’s driving me out of my kriffin’ mind.”

Dogma twists his lips, fidgeting with the bes’bev.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have… I was just trying to be funny.”

Echo stands behind the couch and places his hand over Dogma’s shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Don’t worry about that. Actually…” he pauses for a moment “That joke would’ve made him laugh back… back when he was…” and Echo lets go off dogma, walking around the couch to then plop himself down next to his younger brother “I think this place is not having a very good effect on Fives, Dogma. He can’t accept his new life, can’t see this place as our new home. He’s… different from what I remember.”

Dogma stays quiet for a few instants, then he pull one of his sleeves up just a bit.

“Well.” His voice is low, almost like he feels like he shouldn’t speak; and he does “what happened to each of us made us all different. Changed.”

Echo sees Dogma’s barely-faded scars on his wrist, thinks of the circular burn right in the middle of Fives’ chest. His prosthetic arm whirrs softly when he moves it to scratch his thigh where it meets its own prosthetic.

“Still,” Echo says quietly, almost like he’s talking to himself “we need to learn to live with our scars. Fives is refusing to, and he’s just hurting himself more in the process.”

“Yeah.”

Dogma pulls his legs up, wrapping his arms over his shins.

“Can I, uh. Can I ask you a favor, Echo?” Dogma asks in the same quiet voice; Echo nods and Dogma blinks a couple of times “Can you please stop defending me every time Fives attacks me? I… I mean…. I think I can stand up for myself.”

Echo just stares at him for a moment, surprise taking his features.

“I… never thought you couldn’t, vod. I… It’s just that… you’re not in the best place right now…”

“I know.” Dogma says sheepishly “But I think I have to learn to fend for myself. I think It’s part of fixing…this” he makes a broad gesture with the bes’bev in his hand “I’m not being ungrateful, though. You helped me a lot since you arrived. Thanks.”

Echo smiles, nodding at Dogma.

“Anytime vod’ika.”

It turns out that the barn is still clean, so Fives just gave the bantha an affectionate pat to the head and walked out to sit at the edge of the cliff, legs dangling past the rust-stained rail. He reaches for a small rock and throws it down to the crashing tides below.

His ears still hurt like hell. Sometimes he wished he could shove his hand in and fix whatever the kriff was wrong in there. Could it be all the years under the explosions and gunfire? But the helmets had a sealing system that kept the noise to a safe level. He keeps wondering what could it be, and not knowing makes him even crankier.

Fives looks down to the cliff’s side. The way down to Dogma’s stupid cave, where he would do his stupid sulking and his stupid cutting. He hates that the place is out of reach. Sometimes he wishes the tides would rise and fill it for good and make it impossible to get to again so that Dogma wouldn’t be able to hide from them and cut himself. And now Echo had given him the bes’bev back… how long until Dogma cuts himself again, Fives asks himself dully.

He sighs, leaning back until he can flop on his back over the grass, squinting at the clear sky above. How many clones would kill to be in his place now, free from the obligations of their duty, doing farm work and taking care of a home of their own? Hells, Fives himself had dreamt of this when he had been naïve enough to think that one day the war would be over and the clones would be free.

He clenches his fists thinking of the chancellor and his lies, and his ears hurt so much now. Fives screws his eyes shut when he hears a faint, continuous whistle in his brain. His head hurts… He reaches up to press his finger to his earholes, rubbing circles in an attempt to soothe the pain.

When he opens his eyes, he sees Dogma staring at him from above, concern in his upside-down features.

“Are you okay, Fives?”

Fives sits up abruptly, still rubbing his ears.

“Fantastic.” he grumbles “What do you want?”

Dogma hesitates, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Echo, uh, just flipped the fish and he says it’ll be done in ten minutes.” Dogma makes a pause, watching Fives get to his feet “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Fives runs his finger past where his tattoo used to be and touches the circular scar where AZ-3 had cut him in order to remove his chip. Fives wondered if the ringing in his ears could be a side effect of having it removed and he bit his lip, thinking of Tup. He did mention a headache before he marched straight to a Jedi general and shot her dead.

Oh no.

“I gotta call Rex.” Fives says as he walks past Dogma towards the house “Now.”

#exile au #fic wip #idk if i'm gonna follow up on this or nah

36 notes · View notes

roominthecastle · 6 years ago

Text

post--“620″ ramblings about stuff & things

so 620 picks up one week after the succulent goose incident. Despite those 7 days, our Red remains as angry and hurt as he was before (if not more), which is our first key point. “I can neither kill... nor trust... nor forgive.” It’s quite an unsettling thing to hear, to say the least, and Liz, unsettled, immediately counters w/ “You forgave Dembe.” This Liz vs Dembe thread that’s been earnestly pulled on since 618 gives us the second key. It reaches all the way back to the first episode of this season where it gets established why such a comparison is not working as an argument: “That’s different.”

In both 620 and 601 we have a moment where Liz and Red try to drag poor Dembe in between them as an “example” to deflect pressure, but each immediately rejects this stunt bc they both know that the nature of their relationship is different. The forgiveness of a parent (figure) is not forthcoming for Liz bc Red’s feelings for her are not really those of a parent. This exact issue emerged after her faked death, too, and Bokenkamp touched upon Red’s point of view already, i.e. how the parent figure would have to forgive but the romantic partner is, in fact, conflicted [x]. But I’ve already written a longer piece on this duality, so I won’t get into it here.

And Red’s been struggling. He is heartbroken again and not as a parent. A parent’s heartbreak is equated to “being impaled by a unicorn” and -- still barred from being in her life -- it’s little Agnes whom Red watches riding a unicorn on the carousel. :)

With Liz, Red is suffering through something else that 100% parallels what Liz went through w/ Tom re, love, betrayal, and forgiveness. She was in limbo where she couldn’t kill, she couldn’t trust, she couldn’t forgive. She lost control and cold fury was the only way to get some of it back. And then she gave in to hope and “forgave every lie and believed every promise” only to get betrayed again. Red describes his predicament the same way: she “has lied and deceived me and I've forgiven her every time” and “I knew but I let my hopes convince me that she wouldn’t betray me.” This ties straight back to the idea of being in love == being rendered powerless, which is part of a larger quote from James about self-deception vs true romantic love. Part of this had a cameo in S2 and another is echoed at the end of this episode (the greeting card bit).

The topic of appearance vs truth is the third key that slides neatly into the broader question of Red’s identity. We have two important scenes that poke this issue:

one w/ Ressler when he questions Dom’s story and Liz’s willingness to gloss over the holes to preserve a neat surface appearance: “But is it the truth? Does it make sense that this is the answer?”

and the other is w/ torture master Teddy who points out how Red lives a charade: “The code's like the suit and the hat. You feel good wearing it. Look good, too. Million bucks. But, and I gotta think deep down you know this, it's like lipstick on a pig. It can cover a lotta sins. End of the day, it's still trayf.”

and all this nicely echoes Dom’s words from the previous episode (the “architect of this charade” who’s “stepping into the lie”) and the way Red kicks off the whole show in 101: “Everything about me is a lie.”

Red wears a disguise, is the point. “Raymond Reddington” is a lie he’s been inhabiting for a yet to be fully uncovered purpose. But ever since he met Liz, he’s been longing to break from this. It’s clearly expressed in all those emotional moments he shares w/ her, e.g.:

“I haven't been home in years. But if anyone can give me a second chance, it's you.”

“Sailors have been navigating by the stars for thousands of years. Odysseus spent a decade at war. But his biggest battle was finding his way home. That's Polaris, the North Star. That's how sailors used to find their way home. When I look at you, that's what I see. I see my way home.”

“It may be hard for you to imagine, but I once had a relatively normal life... bills to pay, play dates, family, some friends, people to care about. Lost all that. // Lost how? // In Mexico, there are these fish that have colonized the freshwater caves along Sierra del Abra. They were lost. They found themselves living in complete darkness. But they didn't die. Instead, they thrived. They adapted. They lost their pigmentation, their sight, eventually even their eyes. With survival, they became... hideous. I've rarely thought about what I once... was. But I wonder...if a ray of light were to make it into the cave, would I be able to see it? Or feel it? Would I gravitate to its warmth? And if I did, would I become... less hideous?”

When Red looks at Liz and Agnes, the deep longing for that past self w/ a wife and daughter stirs in him. It surfaces when she tells him her simple yet distant dream of walking in the park w/ her husband and daughter. They want the exact same thing. This is consistent throughout the seasons. He’s been gently signaling this to her and she’s been fleeing from it bc he is just... too much and the idea of him in that role in her life is an attractive yet scary image (see her steamy dream of him in S2 that blends sensuality and dread as Red, having murdered her husband, stalks up to her bed asking what she really wants).

Red’s anger as a way to reestablish a semblance of soothing control and Liz’s refusal to face the truth to protect herself are what we have in that last scene in 620. “father figure” is a buffer zone, always has been, it’s part of the charade Red lives while wearing Reddington’s identity. Despite having pushed for the truth, she is now trying to lock him into this lie, telling him that that’s what he will always be. And if you keep in mind those quotes above that show how Red longs for a past life around her, then you can see how her words likely inflict more pain.

This brings another quote from Red to mind:

“You said something before. The truth doesn’t matter, that the only thing in this world that matters is just the appearance of truth. I fear you might be right about that. Lately I find that the truth has become… so elusive. Often imaginary. But in the end, it’s all that we’re left with, isn’t it? What is real, what you can taste and touch and feel. The words that pass between us as we look each other in the eye are… all we have to hold on to. The truth. I hold it dear.”

In their first scene where Liz talks about finally having the opportunity to be completely honest w/ each other, they sit face to face. And then promptly dance back from it all, esp Red. Then she soon admits to Ressler that she might be closing her eyes to the whole truth to keep things simple, safe and "sweet”. And so in their last scene, there is no eye contact at all as she tells Red that it doesn’t matter who he once was (never mind that months ago she was willing to put him in jail to find out) bc this fake identity is who he is and who he will always be, which apparently dictates that he must play father and grandfather.

The sheer arrogance and presumptuousness of this statement are already begging for a strong rebuttal but it also nicely reflects Liz’s tendency to make things about herself while brushing aside how others might feel or think. She did this w/ Tom when she refused to see who he really was and tried to convince herself he’d changed. And she does this to Ressler, too, when she tells him she knows he did everything bc he thought it was what was best for her, never mind that that was not Ressler’s motivation at all and he, in fact, said that to her already. Her last scene w/ Red has this vibe to it.

The fact that Agnes is part of this park scene is no coincidence, imo. Red is not comfortable w/ playing Liz’s dad. If he were, he wouldn’t have denied being her dad when she asked him in S1 (since wearing Reddington’s identity provides the wiggle room here), he wouldn’t have winced and cringed every time she referred to him as “father” in S5, and he wouldn’t have had the same reaction at the end of 620, either. He doesn’t embrace it, he doesn’t like it, he just endures it. There was a (sadly discarded) line back in S1/S2 about how he would be willing to play any role she wanted him to play but I believe something has changed since then. Even back in 102, he enthusiastically offers her the role of girlfriend and when she refuses, he flatly tells her that she can play daughter then. The preference on his part seems consistent but it will always be up to Liz to give the green light. Or the red one.

He wants to be a father to Agnes and he’s already confessed it in 319 (“I would give anything to be a part of that child's life... hold her... watch her grow.”). And the only time during the park scene when we can see the cold tension melt off him is when he sees the little girl. And when he hears Liz’s decision to bring Agnes home, his stony demeanor crumbles completely.

This is also where another part of that quote from James mentioned above seeps into the dialog: when Red remarks that Liz’s code is not a code but a greeting card -- confused, self-deceiving bullshit (just like Teddy called his code part of a charade designed to hide the scary truth). They are still not being honest w/ each other, they don’t look each other in the eye, they are still dancing around the actual truth at the core of their relationship. Red is deeply hurt, all his hopes seemingly dashed, which drives him to clam up even more and detach to mitigate the pain. He can’t kill but he can try and kill his true feelings for her, I suppose. And Liz is still afraid to face what it is exactly that fuels his intimate commitment to her, so she draws a line in the sand, declaring it permanent. But...

“You know the problem with drawing lines in the sand? With a breath of air, they disappear.”

James stated -- while talking about TBL -- that he’s not interested in material that doesn’t have a romantic/sexual aspect to explore. He also said that he is fascinated by Red and Liz’s relationship, that Red’s feelings for her are strong, complex, and complicated, and that neither is sure of the true nature of their relationship.

so bottom line (to quote Ressler who’s fast becoming the only voice of reason now that Dembe left): Red locked in the surrogate parent role just bc he wears Reddington’s identity for a different, still mostly unknown purpose -- is it the truth? does it make sense that this is the answer?

nope.

And I think it’s interesting that Cooper was designated as a “spokesperson” when he is in the dark about what happened between Red and Liz: the one who is mostly in the dark speaks about a family bond but his assessment (of love, faith, commitment) could easily pass for a wedding vow, too. It’s nothing but fitting, imo.

This latest fallout created a huge fracture in the Red/Liz relationship and I don’t expect them to repair it in the 2 episodes we have left this season. But Agnes is back and I think she will be the glue for these two idiots in the long run, allowing them to slip into a family rhythm that could potentially coax some buried feelings to the surface -- feelings both are trying to ignore at the moment.

#tbl spoilers #tbl spec #long post #lizzington

92 notes · View notes

t-lostinworlds · 6 years ago

Text

Wrong Twin (Grayson Dolan) [2]

A/N: First off, I just wanted to say THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT THAT YOU GUYS GAVE ON PART ONE! I really appreciate every single one of you to death! You guys are amazing iloveyou iloveyou iloveyou! I hope you guys love part 2 as much as the first one haha! Enjoy! x

Summary: You’ve always had unspoken feelings for Ethan since you were young, so it really did hurt when you found out he liked Emma, and not in a subtle way, may I add. You went to Grayson to vent but things didn’t go as you expected when Grayson told you what he really feels.

Warnings: The usual typos haha, sorry.

Word Count: 11.8k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

Part 2

“Fuck.” Grayson cursed running a hand through his hair about to run after you. Bryant started to follow but Grayson stopped him. “I can handle this Bry, just make sure no one goes to back there for 15 minutes or so. She needs all the space she can for now.” Bryant nodded, patting Grayson in the back, with a sympathetic smile. “Go.”

To say that your heart broke is an understatement. You just wanted to die right then and there just to get rid of the constant stabbing in your heart. Yes you already had an idea that Ethan may never feel the same but seeing him kiss another girl is just too much. Seeing the man you’ve been wanting for so long like another woman is enough to make your world crumble into pieces.

You stumbled your way to the back, falling down on the couch as soon as you reached the end. You gripped the railing to steady yourself as you sobbed, staring straight at the ocean as tears streamed down your face continuously.

“(Y/N)?” Grayson scooted towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You quickly turned around and jumped into his arms, burying your face deep in his chest, deep sobs coming from your mouth as you held onto him.

He hugged you tightly, stroking your hair in an attempt to calm you down. “I’m so sorry.” Was all Grayson said, not knowing what else to say that’ll make everything better. He just let you cry your heart out, to just let all the pain go so that it becomes no more.

It crushed Grayson to see you like this, to see you so broken and hurt. If he could shoulder all the pain you were feeling right now he would, just to make you feel better. You are such a kind person and to him, you deserved to be happy. He just wished he could do that, to make you the happiest girl to ever walk this earth. If only you’d choose him instead.

“It hurts Gray, so bad.” You cried, fisting his shirt in your hands. “I know (Y/N), I know,” He whispered, placing a soft kiss on top of your head, knowing exactly how you feel since he is experiencing it too, liking someone who’d never like him back.

After a few more minutes, your sobs lessened into sniffles, you breathing ragged and your throat hoarse. “Sorry.” You sniffed, pulling away from Grayson to wipe your face. He kept his arms around you as he gave you a small smile.

“What are you sorry about? You know you can always cry to me (Y/N), I’ll always be here for you.” He cupped your face with both hands, kissing your forehead, making you close your eyes at the feeling of his soft lips. Grayson then placed one kiss each on your closed puffy eyes before pulling you back in for a hug. “You’ll be fine, you’re the strongest girl I know.” You sighed, feeling oh so thankful to have Grayson right now.

“All this crying made my tired.” You murmured, laying your head on Grayson shoulder as your eyes started to drop. Grayson immediately leaned back on the couch so that you can lay comfortable on him. He pulled your hood over your head to make you even more comfortable, his scent now playing in your nostrils.

“Sleep. We’ll be home soon.” He said before wrapping his arms around you, leaning his head on top of yours. You snuggled into him, blowing out air from you cheeks as he started to hum a song you aren’t familiar with, but the vibrations in his chest and the soft sound coming from his mouth are making you doze off slowly, but before you could finally drift off to sleep, a loud voice spoke.

“Ethan I don’t think it’s a good idea to go back there just yet.” At the mention of his name, you felt your body stiffened. You definitely don’t want to face him right now, especially when it’s very obvious that you’ve been crying “Just pretend you’re sleeping.” Grayson whispered, giving you a soft, comforting squeeze.

“Why Bryant? I’m just wondering where my brother and my best friend went.” Ethan scoffed, marching inside the cabin with Bryant and Emma right behind him.

“What’s going on here?” Ethan said as soon as he saw the scene in front of him.

Grayson looked at Bryant who gave him an apologetic smile, “I tried.” He mouthed, but Grayson only gave him a smile before turning to his brother who’s eyebrows were drawn together.

“Can you keep it down E? She’s sleeping.” Grayson answered, trying his best to make his voice sound as normal as possible regarding the anger that was boiling inside of him. “Why? What happened to her?” Ethan pressed, voice still a bit loud. You felt Grayson’s hand fist behind your back, showing how much he’s getting more and more annoyed at his twin.

You snuggled to him closer, burying your nose on the crook of his neck. You felt him relax a little bit as he cleared his throat. “She ate something earlier, I don’t know what but she isn’t feeling well right now.” Grayson lied, looking away from Ethan and casting his eyes down on you, pulling you even closer to him.

“Oh.” Ethan’s face softened as he looked at you with concern. “Is she okay?” You sighed deeply, shutting your eyes tight as a tear slipped down to your cheek feeling your heart break again at how soft and caring Ethan sounded, realizing that he’ll treat Emma just like how he used to treat you, and more. Grayson noticed this and he quickly pulled the hood even more until it covered half of you face.

“Yeah, she just needs sleep.” Grayson urged, and Ethan nodded getting the hint that you really do need some peace and quiet. “Come on E, let’s go back out there, she’s going to be fine she’s old enough.” Emma spoke, tugging at Ethan’s arm to pull him back to the deck. You flinched, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from scowling.

“I – yeah, okay. Gray, tell me if she needs anything.” Ethan turned around and followed Emma back to the bow, you opened your eyes just in time to see him wrapped his arm around her waist, their backs already facing you.

You choked back a sob, burying your face back into Grayson’s chest, making him sigh. He rubbed your back soothingly as your tears started to build up again, then you felt another hand on your shoulder.

You turned around to see Bryant sat beside you, a sympathetic smile plastered on his face, “I’m so sorry (Y/N), I tried holding him off but when he looked around and saw that you two were the only ones who weren’t there, he freaked.”

“Wait you know?” You pulled away from Grayson and sat straight, looking back and forth at the two guys on either side of you. “I – uh, I might have let it slip.” Grayson scratched the back of his neck, not meeting your eyes. “And I kind of already noticed it too, the way you look at Ethan. I’m sorry.” Bryant added, saving Grayson from any further explanation.

“It’s okay, you’re like a brother to me anyway.” You gave Bryant the only smile that you could manage at this point. He opened his arms and gave you a tight squeeze. “And you’re like a sister to me. You’ll be okay, there’s plenty of fish in the ocean. You can even look at it yourself.” You giggled at his bad joke, pulling away to see him point at the ocean around you.

“Or, he’s just around the corner, waiting for the right opportunity to make a move.” Bryant added with a smirk, making Grayson’s eyes grow wide. You looked at Bryant confused, but before you could ask he was already standing up. “Gotta go back there, birthday boy needs to entertain his guest.” He squeezed your cheeks, shooting Grayson a wink before walking away.

“What was that all about?” You asked Grayson who’s cheeks are turning a shade of pink. “Dunno.” He shrugged, wrapping his arms back around your waist to pull you closer again to make him feel warmer as he started to feel cold, the temperature dropping a couple of degrees with the boat already on its way back to the shore.

“You still sleepy?” Grayson asked, rubbing his hands up and down your back. “Mhmm.” You hummed, going back to your previous position in his arms, wrapping yours around his torso. “Me too.” He yawned, his hands snaking up underneath the hoodie making you jump when his cold hands touched your bare back. “Gray what are you doing?” Your eyebrows knitted in confusion but you didn’t do anything as his touch felt more calming than usual.

“My hands are cold because you have my hoodie.” He grumbled as his fingers started to draw random patterns on your skin, your eyes getting heavier and heavier by the soothing feeling. “Quick nap?” He suggested, but you were already in the verge of dozing off.

You mumbled a soft okay, your head on his shoulder, his head on top of yours with arms wrapped around each other, the beautiful sound of the ocean lulling you both to sleep.

* * *

An incredibly blinding flash made you stir in your deep slumber, forcing you to open your eyes to see Bryant with a Polaroid camera. “We’re here sleepyheads.” He grinned, taking the photo out of the camera and shaking it.

Grayson stirred beside you, letting out a loud yawn as he rubbed his eyes. You pulled away from him and stretch your limbs, neck starting to get sore. You stood up, Grayson following suit slinging his backpack over his shoulder that Bryant gave him who was already walking towards where the boat and the dock meet, ready to get off the boat. Grayson went first and held out his hands for you to grab, helping you jump the gap between the boat and the dock.

“Thank you, for everything.” You whispered, standing in front of him with your hands still engulfed in his large ones, his thumb caressing the back of it as he smiled down at you. “Always.” He brought your hands up to his lips before pulling you in for a hug. A hug that made you feel warm and safe, even if you were still breaking on the inside. “Let’s go?” You gave him a nod and started to walk towards the parking lot where the rest are waiting, your fingers intertwined.

Just as you reached the parking lot, everybody was starting to get inside their respective vehicles, except the three people that stood by the white Jeep. You took a deep breath, puffing out your cheeks to keep you tears at bay, seeing that Ethan still had his arm around Emma as they spoke to Bryant. Grayson gave your hand a squeeze before letting it go to sling his arm over your shoulder.

“What took you guys so long?” Emma asked as she noticed the two of you approach, tapping her foot on the pavement impatiently. You let out a fake cough, but due to the hoarseness of your throat, it came out sounding real. “I felt dizzy for a sec.” You croaked, leaning your weight more on Grayson, keeping your eyes on the floor.

“(Y/N), you feeling okay?” Your breathed hitched as you felt his presence approach you. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You said, still not looking away from the floor, your hair and the hood covering most of your face. But knowing Ethan, you definitely have no escape, especially when he cupped you cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

“Wha – are you okay?” He asked as he looked at you, slowly taking in your bloodshot eyes, red nose and puffy face. You pulled your head away from his hand taking a step back from him. Hurt flashed in Ethan’s eyes for a second, but you ignored it, giving him a forced smile.

“I’m fine E, it must have been allergies. Can we go home now please?” You sighed, wishing to just get this day over with. “About that, I just got a text from Noah inviting us back to his place, said we should continue the party there.” Bryant said out of the blue, his eyes glued on his phone.

“I don’t think I’ll come with, still not feeling that well. You guys go ahead and have fun.” You pulled away from Grayson and walked towards Bryant, who opened his arms as soon as you reached him.

“You sure you don’t want to come? I told me Noah Centineo has been your long time crush?” Bryant voiced the last part loudly for the twins to hear, both their ears perking up at the thought of you liking another guy, it’s in their protective nature to know every guy you meet, which can get very annoying real quick and Bryant knew that but he just likes to play with them most of the times.

“I need time to think, maybe some other day. Happy Birthday again Bry.” You gave him a hug, giggling as he lifted your feet off the ground. “Thank you so much for making this the best birthday ever (Y/N). Stay strong okay? You can get through this.” Bryant whispered against your hair as he placed you back down.

“You guys can go on, I’ll just order an Uber.” You turned to the group with a small smile. “I can drop you off you know.” Ethan spoke, his arm now on Emma’s shoulder. You swallowed the lump in your throat before answering, “No, I’m sure Noah’s house is on the other side of town, I’ll just get an Uber, it’s fine.”

You didn’t wait for an answer as you walked back to Grayson to take the backpack where most of your belongings are kept, but before you could even say anything, he’s already taken the backpack far away from you.

“I’m coming with you.” He said firmly, causing you to groan. “Gray, it’s okay. I don’t want you to miss out on anything, you can go with them.” You objected, giving him a stern look. “I can’t let you go home alone when you’re not feeling well.” He countered, knowing that he’s already won as you’ve been pretending to be sick this whole time. “Fine.” You muttered in annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood beside him.

“Can we go now?” Emma rolled her eyes, getting annoyed by all the delay, now walking towards the passenger’s seat. “You sure–” “Yes E, now go on and have fun.” You cut him off, giving him a small nod. He stared at you and Grayson for a moment before sighing, “I’ll see you later then.” He said before getting inside his car.

“The two of you take care okay. Thanks again for the best birthday party.” Bryant gave you and Grayson another hug before hoping in, giving you one last wave before closing the door, the car driving off and out of sight.

You turned to Grayson, giving him a glare. “You do know I can take care of myself right?” He shrugged, pulling his phone out to order an Uber home. “I just don’t want you to go home alone. And with the situation at hand, I don’t think I can last in a car with Ethan without punching him in the face.”

You looked at him curiously, trying your best to read this man in front of you, and trying to figure out why what he said made you heart skip a beat.

“Uber’s here.” Grayson suddenly took your hand, dragging you towards a car at the edge of the road. “For Grayson?” He asked before opening the door widely for you to get in.

You stayed silent as soon as you got in, your thoughts now starting to consume you bit by bit. Grayson didn’t say anything either, knowing that you need some peace and quiet to just think. He can see it in your eyes how much you are still hurting inside, but he won’t push his luck, he’ll just have to wait until you’re ready to just pour everything out on him.

The whole car ride was silent, except for the subtle music playing on the radio, none of you speaking a word until you got back home.

Grayson thanked the Uber driver as you went straight towards the front door, unlocking it with the key Grayson lend you. You dropped the bag on the couch, turning around as Grayson walked in.

“I’m going to take a shower and just go straight to sleep.” You stated in a tone that made Grayson look at you worriedly. “Sure. If that’s what you want Pumpkin.” He walked over to you and gave you a soft kiss on the forehead. “Just tell me if you need anything.” He added with a smile, giving you a quick hug and turning around towards his room.

“Gray…” You called out before he could turn the corner, “Yeah?” “Can I borrow one of your shirts?” You asked shyly, your cheeks heating up. Most of the times you just sleep with an oversized shirt on, especially when you just want to feel cozy, but most of the shirts you wear are Ethan’s and you just can’t wear one right now.

“Of course, be back in a sec.” He disappeared in the hallway, coming back later with a dark blue t-shirt in his hand. “Here you go, anything else?” You shook your head no, raising an eyebrow at Grayson’s smug smile. “What?” You asked, but he only chuckled. “Nothing. Goodnight (Y/N).” He retraced his steps, disappearing in the hallways and into his bedroom.

Your heart started to get heavier and heavier as you walked toward your own room, already knowing that it isn’t going to be easy sleeping there without remembering all the times Ethan sneaked in to lay beside you.

You gathered all your courage as you twisted the door knob, heart sinking as all the memories came crashing down like a wave.

You tried your hardest to ignore all of the things that reminded you of what used to be, but it’s always easier said than done as you looked at the bed and all you see is Ethan cuddled right beside you, the way he held you so tight that made you feel like you belonged right there, in his arms.

Images from earlier on flashed across your mind, the way his lips were pressed against hers, and the way he smiled so proud for kissing her in front of so many people. You could practically hear your own heart break the moment you saw it. You thought you were ready to see him with other girls, or to get your heart broken, but nothing can ever prepare you for that kind of pain.

You got rid of the thought as you placed Grayson’s shirt on the edge of the bed then heading straight towards your bathroom. Stripping off your clothes and putting your hair in a bun, you hopped in the shower, turning the hot water on directly. You let out a deep breath as the water touched your bare skin, soothing you physically but not emotionally.

You knew catching feelings for your best friend was going to end up badly. But who’s fault is it really? You can never control what you feel, no one can. If only you’d have been more careful, it probably would’ve hurt less.

You lost track of time of how long you’ve been in the shower for, you just knew it was time to get out when your skin started to blister from the hot water. You stepped out of the shower with a heavy heart. No matter how many times people keep saying that you are a strong girl, things just get a little too much at times.

You threw Grayson’s shirt over your shoulder, the hem of it just stopping mid-thigh, his scent still very distinct in the fabric. You just let you hair cascade down your back as you crawled in bed, planning to just sleep the problems away even if it’s only half past 8, then again, you were mentally and emotionally exhausted for today, but no matter how hard you try, your body wants to do the exact opposite.

“Of fucking course.” You cursed under your breath after twisting and turning for the hundredth time already, getting frustrated as to why you can’t fall asleep. You decided not to push it, maybe a breath of fresh air will do the trick, so you kicked the covers of your body and sneaked out of your room. You still have no clue if Ethan’s home yet, might as well take the precaution since you don’t want to be left alone with him just yet.

Closing the sliding door behind you, you tiptoed towards the edge of the pool, sitting down and submerging your bare feet in the water, kicking aimlessly, the water forming rippling patterns here and there. You stared straight at the darkness in front of you as you tried to sort out your thoughts, deciding on what you should do to move on and to prevent yourself from getting hurt over and over again.

Grayson on the other hand just got out of the shower after his nightly workout, his upper body bare and his lower body only covered with a towel that hung dangerously low on his hips. He pulled out a pair of boxers from his closet and slipped it on, ruffling his damp hair with the towel to at least dry it up a bit.

He was about to jump on his bed to just watch survival or ASMR videos until he falls asleep when he saw a figure just sitting by the pool. “What the–” He peeked behind the blinds to see that it was just you, staring straight into nothingness.

He quickly picked a shirt and some sweatpants from the floor, putting it on then slipping out of the sliding door as quietly as possible, walking straight to the side of the pool where you were sat.

“What are you doing our here?” He asked, making you jump at his unexpected appearance, hand landing on your chest to calm your heart down. “Grayson, you scared me.” You blew out your cheeks. “I thought you were sleeping?” He asked, rolling up his sweatpants up to his knees before sitting right beside you, feet now submerged in the water.

“My mind is running a hundred miles per hour, I couldn’t sleep.” You lifted your shoulders up in a half shrug, giving him a sad smile, resting your hands behind you so that you can lean back comfortably. Grayson’s eyes scanned your body momentarily, a lump forming in his throat as he noticed you were only wearing a shirt over your underwear, his shirt to be exact.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, tearing his eyes off your legs to look at your eyes, leaning back on his arms as well, his hand just beside yours.

“All of it is just so complicated to be honest.” You started, still staring straight at the black sky. Grayson stayed silent as he waited for you to continue, his feet brushing with your under the water. You took a deep breath and continued,

“I just don’t get it. I’ve been there by his side when he needed me you know, and when some random blonde skinny chick comes out of nowhere, he’s suddenly all over her like I was never there. Funny thing too cause when he came down earlier when we were decorating the boat, he told me he was getting jealous with you getting close to me which makes no fucking sense. He said that kissing on the nose was our thing, how can we have a thing when we’re not even together? He told me he doesn’t want my attention to be divided with you, even if you’re just his brother which is a boyfriend thing to say! Why would he be jealous if he doesn’t feel anything for me? It’s just so fucked up! He keeps leading me on and he doesn’t even have a clue. I feel so stupid for not stopping this feelings from growing. But is it really my fault when all I did was feed my mind with what he was showing me? If he didn’t treat me like we were a couple before Emma came around, this wouldn’t have been too difficult.” You ranted, sitting straight back up with your arms flailing around in frustration.

“And what also hurts was when he said she was busy and that he had nothing to do so he came to me.” You scoffed, resting your chin on your hand that was perched on your knee. “Guess I’m not that important to him anymore, always the second option.” You whispered, a tear slowly falling from your eyes. Grayson scooted closer to you, rubbing your back in circles in a comforting manner.

“It hurts so fucking bad to see him be with someone else when all I’ve been wishing is for him to be officially mine, for him to see me differently, to see me more than just his best friend.” You wiped a tear away harshly, biting your bottom lip to prevent yourself from turning into a human faucet.

“I just – Is there something wrong with me? Will I ever be enough for anyone?” You finally said it out loud, the question that’s been pestering your mind the whole day. Of course you’ve had your fair share of heartbreaks before you grew feeling for Ethan, but all of those relationships end the same way, whether it’s them breaking up with you for no apparent reason or you get cheated on.

“There’s nothing wrong with you (Y/N). You are the greatest girl a guy could ever ask for and I’m not saying this because you’re my best friend, I’m saying this because it’s the full truth. You are more than enough, don’t you ever doubt that.” Grayson took your hands in his, giving it a soft squeeze.

“If that’s true, why can’t some of the guys I’ve been with see that?” You questioned, your voice low as you looked at Grayson in the eyes. “Cause they’re fucking blind (Y/N). If they can’t see how amazing you are, then it’s their lost, not yours.” Grayson insisted, meaning every word that came out of his mouth.

You pulled your hand away from him as you hugged yourself, rubbing your arms as the air gave you goosebumps. Looking straight through space as you whispered, “Then why didn’t Ethan choose me instead?” You closed your eyes, not being able to hold your tears much longer.

“One, Ethan’s an asshole, two, he’s oblivious as fuck and three…” Grayson took a deep breath, reaching over to cup your face with both his hands, forcing you to look at him straight in the eyes, you can feel his hand shake a little bit, his eyes showing all kinds of emotions as they bore in yours.

“Maybe you’re the one who’s choosing wrong. Maybe, after all this time, you’ve been choosing the wrong twin.” Grayson’s heart pounded as soon as he said the words, not knowing what to expect or what your reaction would be but he knew he just had to say it since he can’t hold it any longer.

“I – What do you mean?” You whispered, already knowing what he means but you just had to hear it again loud and clear.

“This is what I mean.” You didn’t have the time to react as Grayson crashed his lips against yours. You froze with your eyes wide open in shock, but they soon fluttered closed when you melted in the kiss. Your hands went to cup his face as you kissed him back, feeling him grin between your lips.

Grayson’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you over him so that now you were sat on his lap, straddling his waist, his back getting damp from your wet feet, but he didn’t give a damn. Why would he when he’s finally kissing you, the girl who he’s been dreaming, wanting for so long.

His hands began to go underneath your shirt, landing on the small of your bare back as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss even more.

You couldn’t help but match Grayson’s grin as the two of you locked lips, your fingers getting lost in his hair as you thought that maybe he was right. Maybe you, in fact, have been choosing the wrong twin all this time, because you’ve never felt this safe before, not even with Ethan. You’ve never felt how someone’s lips could fit perfectly with yours just like Grayson’s does.

Looking back at all those days, Grayson has always been the one who understands you the most. He’s always been there for you no matter what’s the case, even if he didn’t really have to.

He licked your bottom lip as he asked for entrance, which you gladly granted, the kiss getting more and more heated as the time goes on, his hands now on your ass, giving it a light and playful squeeze making you giggle. Both of your lungs started to burn as it gasp for air but none of you dared to stop, feeling like this is where you belong.

“What the fuck?!”

Both of you froze, pulling away from the kiss, you looked behind Grayson, quickly getting off of him, pulling your shirt back down as you stood up straight, Grayson doing the exact same thing.

“What the fuck is this?!” Ethan asked again, hand pointing at you then at Grayson. “E, I can explain.” Grayson tried but Ethan just waved him off as he looked at you. “I thought you said there’s nothing between you and Grayson? Did you just fucking lie to me (Y/N)?” He growled, taking another step towards you.

You stood your ground, looking at him with the same intensity. “I didn’t lie to you Ethan. It’s not what it looks like.” He laughed forcefully, “Really? It’s not what it looks like? I saw it with my own two eyes (Y/N)! You were eating each other’s face out! I’m not blind! You’re even wearing his shirt for fucks sake!” He spat in your face, making you stumble back a bit.

“You aren’t sick aren’t you? You were just pretending so that I will leave the two of you alone. Is this why you wanted to go home early? So that you can fuck each other behind my back?!” He yelled, his hand flailing everywhere to justify is anger.

“Ethan.” Grayson interrupted in a warning tone which made you scared, scared that a fight might break between the two.

“Shut the fuck up Grayson. Stay out of this.” Ethan shot him a glare before turning back to you. “Is this what you do to me after I’ve told you not to date him? After telling you all the reasons why I don’t want you to date him you still fuck him behind my back? How could you be so selfish (Y/N)?!” He growled.

And that’s where you lost it. “Selfish? I’m not the one who’s selfish here Ethan, you are.” You said through gritted teeth, tears now falling freely down you cheeks. “You don’t fucking own me. What I want to do with my life is my choice, not yours.” You started to walk pass him, not wanting to deal with his ass right now.

“What the fuck is your problem (Y/N)?!” You stopped in your tracks, not being able to hold it much longer, you just needed to explode.

“You! You are my fucking problem Ethan!” You snapped, turning around to face him, now full on yelling, not caring if the neighbors are going to hear you. “What is that supposed to mean?” He countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I have feelings for you goddamn it! I fucking like you more than I should have!” You finally admitted, tears now steaming down your face endlessly.

“What?” Ethan’s voice wavered.

“You keep leading me on with all this things you do that isn’t normal for just best friends! You keep treating me like how a boyfriend treats her girlfriend. Maybe it’s my fault for falling for your actions but normal best friends don’t cuddle every fucking night! A normal best friend don’t get jealous too easily when a guys speaks to me let alone breath around me! Normal best friends don’t make a kiss in the nose ‘their thing’ Ethan! Then when you met Emma you suddenly changed E.” You choked back a sobbed, your chest feeling lighter as you poured all the anger you’ve been bottling inside you for months.

“You suddenly became distant, you’ve talked to me less, you’ve ignored me like I don’t fucking exist to you anymore unless there’s no one else! You only talk to me when nobody else is avaible! You keep making me you last resort! You don’t just do that Ethan! You can’t make me feel special some days then act like you don’t care about me the next! It��s fucking confusing me!” You screamed, you whole body now shaking with anger and frustration and none of the boys dared to interrupt.

“You’ve even got that stupid attitude now, always trying to impress her, making her think that you’re a cool guy and you don’t give a damn about anything! You’ve changed who you are for some stupid ass bitch you don’t even know that much yet!” You walked towards Ethan until there was only a foot space between the two of you.

“You keep playing with my feelings and I’ve had enough!” You spat on his face, jabbing a finger at his chest.

“(Y/N)… I – I didn’t know.” Ethan’s voice turned quiet, as he looked at you with mixed emotions. “Of course you don’t. How would you know if you’ve been busy shoving your tongue down Emma’s throat?” You laughed sarcastically, looking like a complete lunatic as your cheeks are so wet with tears.

“You saw that?” He asked, frowning deeply as he looked at you, guilt flashing across his features. “Of course I fucking saw it! I’m not blind!” You hissed, using his own words against him. He stared at you dumbfounded, not knowing how to take in all the information he just has been feed with.

“You know what, I can’t anymore. I need to breath.” Your voice broke, turning around as you ran back inside the house.

“(Y/N) wait!” Grayson called out, about to follow you when Ethan grabbed his arm. “Did you know about this?” He asked, looking at Grayson with so much confusion. Grayson tried to shake him off, desperate to run after you, but Ethan only gripped him tighter.

“Get off me Ethan.” He growled, glaring daggers at his brother. “Just answer me.” He begged, sounding so desperate but he just wanted things to be a bit clearer. “Yes Ethan, I fucking knew about everything. Now can you please let me go?” Grayson tried to pull his hand away but Ethan didn’t budge.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me I was hurting her? I could’ve done things differently.” Ethan sighed, feeling extremely bad for what he’s done to you. “It was not my secret to tell. Now let me fucking go.” Grayson barked, getting more and more annoyed at his brother, especially when he heard the front door open and then close.

“Gray, please, I need help here. If she likes me, why was she kissing you?” Ethan asked again, looking at his brother for answers. “I was the one who kissed her, not the other way around.” Grayson said blankly, looking at his brother as realization dawned on his face.

“Wait, you – is this why you’re so mad at me right now? You have feelings for her?” Ethan stated slowly, taking in his own words, the heavy feeling in his heart seem to only worsen.

“Yes Ethan. I have feelings for her. Now get the fuck off me before I punch you in the face.” Grayson’s jaw clenched, making Ethan loosen his grip on Grayson’s arm, stepping a few step backs as guilt started to consume him.

Ethan felt very overwhelmed by everything, realizing that after so long, he hasn’t only been hurt you, he’s been hurting his own brother as well. He has been a hindrance to the happiness of two of the most important people in his life and it makes him feel like a total asshole.

It might have been a selfish thing to do but Grayson left his brother there, squatted on the floor with his face buried in his hands, mumbling ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again as he ran inside the house and straight to your room.

“(Y/N)?” He opened the door and saw nothing. He ran to your bathroom and still no sign of you either, but what worried him the most was that your phone and your wallet was still on the nightstand. “(Y/N)!” Grayson yelled, his voice echoing around the house as he looked at every room there, but still, nothing.

“Shit.” He quickly ran to his room, putting on some shoes, snatching his keys and his blanket as he ran towards his car. “Grayson! Where are you going?” Ethan ran up to him, but Grayson was already backing out of the driveway. “Going to find (Y/N). Don’t wait up.” He answered before driving off, hoping that you didn’t get too far and that nothing bad happened to you.

You weren’t thinking clearly when you ran straight out of the house. You didn’t even notice that you were barefooted until your feet started to get cold. All you know is that you needed to get away, after everything you said, after everything you’ve confessed, you just needed to breathe and mostly because you aren’t ready to face Ethan after all that.

Waking up this morning, you had no idea that today was going to be hella eventful. You thought that the only thing that was going to happen was you guys celebrating Bryant’s birthday on a boat and that was it. Never had it crossed your mind that today was going to be ‘confess your feelings to someone’ day. First it was Ethan to Emma, or whichever that may be, then it was Grayson to you, and of course, you to Ethan.

Grayson confessing his feelings to you. Grayson has feelings for you.

How could you talk about how oblivious Ethan was when all this time, you’ve been blind yourself. You’ve been so occupied with your feelings for Ethan that you didn’t get to notice how Grayson truly feels.

God, imagine all those times you keep complaining to him about how much you liked Ethan and how much it hurts when he doesn’t feel the way, Grayson must’ve felt like utter shit hearing the girl he likes talk about another guy, and not just any guy, his brother.

Now you understand why Grayson keeps saying he knows how you feels, because he’s been experiencing it with you. He’s been having feelings for you all this time while you’re out there chasing his own brother instead of him, his own flesh and blood.

Everything makes a bit more sense now, all the little things he said to you, the way he looked hurt when he found you and Ethan cuddled together, when he looked away when Ethan kissed your nose and what Bryant said about that special someone who’s just around the corner, he was talking about Grayson.

“I’m such an idiot! How could I not notice?” You groaned, hugging yourself tighter as the cold wind started to get to you.

Bright headlights shown from behind you, the sound of an engine coming closer and closer, you should have been scared knowing you’re in the middle of nowhere with barely any clothes on, walking in the middle of the night, but you’ve been familiar with his car for riding in it so many times already.

“Go away Grayson.” You called out as he slowed down right beside you, not full on stopping since you continued walking, not sparing him one look. “How did you know it was me? You didn’t even look yet!” He quipped, completely taken by surprise by your reaction.

“I know your car Gray. Now leave me alone.” You sighed, walking a bit faster, but what’s the point? He’s in a car for fucks sake. “Just get in the car (Y/N). It’s cold out.” He begged, getting more and more worried as he noticed your state, barefooted, wearing only his shirt and clearly shivering from the cold night air.

“No. I need to be alone.” You protested, although the warm temperature inside his car sounds tempting, you just don’t want to go back home and face Ethan.

“Come on, please Pumpkin? You’re going to catch a cold. I have a blanket here, it’s so warm, and soft too.” He cooed, your cheeks flushing as he used that nickname he’s been calling you all day with again. “I don’t want to go home just yet Gray.” You sighed, finally turning to him, but you still kept walking.

“Who said we’re going home?” You stopped, Grayson stepping on the break abruptly. You gave him a confused look as you turned around, now fully facing him as he smiled at you through the window. “We’re going to get Pizza, burgers or fries, maybe even ice cream if the shop is still open.” He added, wriggling his eyebrow in the process.

Your shoulders slumped as you gave him a pout, opening the car door in utter defeat. He grinned victoriously, knowing you can never say no to food.

As you got in the passenger’s seat, he was already reaching for something in the backseat. When you got your seat belt on, Grayson leaned over as he draped a blanket over you, now feeling warmer, pulling it closer to your body. “Thank you.” You whispered, him giving you the softest most charming smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“So… In n Out, Dominoes, or McDonalds?” He drove off, glancing at you for a brief moment, noticing how cute you looked all snuggled up in a blanket, having no idea how badly Grayson wanted to just kiss you again. “You pick.” You said, not really bothered to pick a place to eat when your mind is trying to figure out your feelings for Ethan and for Grayson.

Grayson didn’t say anything else, especially when you’ve got a deep frown, indicating that you were thinking so hard about something. He let out a huge breathe, the awkward tension building between you to as your thoughts came back to what just happened moments ago, driving to the nearest McDonalds for a take out.

* * *

“I’m cold, can we share?” Grayson asked as he sat beside you again on the hood of his car after he threw your trashes away. You gave him nod, giving the other end of the blanket to him, which he draped over his shoulder, moving even closer to you.

The two of you stayed silent, just staring at the city lights of L.A. as Grayson parked in an empty parking lot somewhere in the mountains, the tension still present in the air. You cleared your throat, catching Grayson’s attention now fully.

“Are we not going to talk about it?” You asked, just wanting to get this over with. “Talk about what?” Grayson tried to act normal, but he was already a nervous train wreck, scared as to what you might say, whether if you regretted kissing him back or you just don’t feel the same way.

“About what happened earlier…” You continued, staring straight at Grayson who refuses to look at you. “What about it?” He asked casually, now getting on your nerves as it was so clear he was trying to avoid the subject.

“Grayson…” You warned, making him sigh, now finally looking at you in the eyes. “Fine, just ask me a question, anything you want to know and I’ll answer it truthfully.” Grayson said nervously, not entirely sure where this is going to go.

“Since when?” You looked away from him, you don’t exactly know why but maybe because you’ll feel guilty knowing for how long you’ve been hurting him and not having a single clue about it.

“I don’t really know, it just happened I guess. But I already had feelings for you way before I asked you about Ethan.” He admitted, feeling his heart thump louder at finally saying it to you in words. You bit your bottom lip as you looked at him, eyes showing just how much you felt so guilty for putting him through the same thing you’ve been going through, but when you really think about it, he may even got it worse.

“Don’t. It’s fine (Y/N), it’s not your fault.” He sighed as he cupped your face, giving you a reassuring smile. “It’s just, I feel so selfish that I’ve been complaining about my heartaches when I’ve hurting you through all that. I feel like such a bad person.”

“It’s okay (Y/N), none of this is your fault. Let’s just forget about that and just think about today and tomorrow. About us.” He grabbed both your hands in his, stroking it softly, eyes boring deeply in you as he moved in closer, brushing the tip of his nose with yours. He was about to close the distance when you looked away, a certain thought eating you slowly if you continue.

“Gray, we can’t.” You breathe, putting some distance between you two. Pain flashed across Grayson’s eyes, breaking your own heart. “Why not?” He whispered, anger slowly seeping back in his blood, already expecting what you’re going to say.

“It’s just wrong. Ethan told me–” Grayson sneered as he stood up, turning his back on you. “Will you just listen to me please?” You pleaded, just wanting to explain everything piece by piece to make everything clearer for the both of you.

“No (Y/N)! I think it’s time that you listen to me!” Grayson growled, facing you with his face steaming in anger. You shut your lips tight, looking at him with wide eyes. You’ve seen Grayson angry many times, but his anger was never aimed towards you, so this is comes off as a huge surprise.

“Are you saying that it’s wrong because that’s what you really feel or you’re saying that because Ethan said so? Did that kiss feel fucking wrong to you (Y/N)?!” You looked away, your bottom lips getting caught in your teeth. Of course it didn’t feel wrong, it was the best feeling you’ve ever experienced in a while.

“No! It didn’t feel fucking wrong! Not even one bit!” He bellowed as if he read your thoughts, his teeth gritted as his eyes bore a hole through your head. “Look at me when I’m talking to you (Y/N).” He hissed, forcing you to look back at him, trying your best to show a straight face when all your emotions are a mess inside of you.

“I’m so fucking tired of hearing Ethan’s name be a part of your every decision! How hypocritical of you to tell him that you make the choices and not him because it’s your life but every decision you make revolves around him!” Grayson continued, getting so fed up to the constant cycle that you’ve been going through. He knows he could just say it to you calmly but he needs to knock some sense into you and just wake up.

“Ethan this, Ethan that, no I don’t want Ethan to be mad, no I don’t want Ethan to get hurt, For. Fucks. Sake! You need to be selfish for once (Y/N)! Stop thinking about what he might say or feel, think about what you feel! Choose what you want, not what Ethan wants!” Grayson took a step closer, hands tugging at his roots as frustration surge through his body.

“It’s not that easy Grayson.” You looked down, your eyes getting glossy as tears started to swam in them. “Why the fuck would it be hard for you to think about what you want?” He huffed, throwing his hands up in the air,

“It’s not fucking easy because I’m so confused Grayson! I don’t know what’s right or wrong at this point and I don’t want to hurt you or anyone! I don’t want to ruin what you and your brother have! What the three of us have with just one wrong move! I just don’t know what to fucking think anymore!” You snapped, standing up harshly, not caring that your bare feet started to hurt as you were stepping on tiny pebbles, his sudden outburst of anger slowly rubbing off of you.

“Yes it’s easy (Y/N)! You need to put yourself first this time and think about what’s best for you! Not what’s best for him, not even what’s best for me! Think about you! If you are still confused, it’s fucking easy to just listen to your heart instead! Choose what makes you happy, what your heart is telling you, what you want! What do you fucking want (Y/N)?!”

“You Grayson! I want you!” You shrieked, tears now free falling down your cheeks, covering the already dried ones. You meant every word that you said, finally figuring out everything about what you felt.

You really did like Ethan at some point but for how long did your feelings last? You didn’t know. When you think hard about it, you were just falling to the thought of falling, the thought of being liked by someone, and that’s what his actions showed you. He showed how it feels to be cared for, he made you feel like a princess that you’ve completely forgotten what’s true or not about your feelings.

You enjoyed that constant bliss that his actions gave you that your mind played with your heart, making you think that you liked Ethan when in fact, you just liked the thought of having someone there to care for you, and that someone happened to take in the shape of Ethan. And when he stopped doing the actions that you got used to, you began to panic because you didn’t want the feeling of utter euphoria to end.

Maybe it’s because you’ve been heartbroken so many times before that when someone shows you things that you’ve been missing so badly, things that made you feel like you are indeed special, you latch onto the feeling, painting it into something it isn’t. After seeing him kissing Emma, you fell down to the same hole filled with your insecurities, just the way you did when guys cheated on you or just leave you.

It’s a very complicated thing to explain but what you felt for Ethan wasn’t exactly what you think it is, and Grayson made you realize that.

The anger from Grayson’s face faltered, his arms going limp on his sides as he gaped at you completely astonished.

“I feel safer with you, I feel loads better when I’m with you, I feel free when I talk to you, like I don’t need to hide anymore and I just realized that all this after we kissed. It didn’t feel wrong to me because it felt so damn right! Everything about you feels so fucking right, I so badly want to be with you and that scares the shit out of me Grayson!” You exclaimed, not seeing Grayson’s face clearly anymore as the tears blurred your vision.

“It scares me because I don’t want to put our bond in jeopardy, what if it doesn’t work out? If we do get involve in a relationship and it doesn’t work out, everything will never be the same. I don’t want to lose you Gray, I don’t want to lose my best friend.” You choked back a sob, head hung low as you took in a shaky breath, the silence now ringing in the air.

You heard Grayson move in front of you, his footsteps rushed and when you looked up, he directly smashed his lips on yours, making you stumble back but his hands were quick to grip your waist, keeping you in place. You sighed, reaching up to wraps your arms around his neck, fingers playing with his hair on the back of his head, kissing him with the same passion as he’s pouring in the kiss.

Grayson started to walk forward, still not breaking the kiss, pushing you slowly until the back of your knees hit his car. He lifted you up with ease, sitting you on the hood, him crawling over you until you laid flat on its surface with him hovering on top of you, lips still connected, not caring if there’s going to be a dent on his hood the next morning.

“You’re not losing me. I’m not going anywhere.” He whispered against your lips, hands grabbing your soft, bare legs, wrapping it around his waist. He sucked on your bottom lip making you part your lips as you let out a soft moan, him taking this opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, deepening the kiss once again.

Grayson pulled away, chest heaving up and down as he rested his forehead against yours. Your swollen lips and flushed cheeks doing crazy things to him, especially when you’re under him, wearing only his shirt. As much as he wanted to take things further, he doesn’t want to rush you and the both of you are pretty exhausted with everything that’s happened today.

“You’re staring.” You whispered with a smug smile, running your fingers through his hair. “That’s because you’re so beautiful.” He whispered back, giving you as soft peck on the lips, feeling so happy to finally finally have you after a long time of dreaming.

Grayson stood up, pulling you up with him. “We should go back. It’s very late.” You nodded with a loud yawn, making him chuckle. “And you’re tired.” He wrapped the blanket around you and kissed you on the forehead, your eyes closing at the wonderful feeling.

Grayson hooked his arm around your legs as he carried you bridal style, making you squeal in surprise. “I can walk you know.” You giggled, wrapping your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked at him adoringly, your heart melting at just how beautiful he looked under the moonlight.

“I’m just treating you like you deserved to be treated, like a queen.” He smiled, giving you a wink. You laughed as you reached over to open the car door as his hands are full at the moment. “You’re such a ball of cheese.” You teased as he placed you back down, reaching over to put your seatbelt on for you, loving how he’s spoiling you already.

“Oh you love it.” He gushed, giving you another peck before closing the door and jogging over to his side. He started the engine and drove off. The whole car ride back home contained soft music playing on the radio with Grayson’s fingers tangled up in yours, other hand on the staring wheel, grins plastered on both your faces.

* * *

Grayson turned the car off as you reached the driveway, rushing over to you before you could get out, carrying you again no matter your protest. Then again, you were incredibly tired and your feet were starting to hurt, imagine walking around for who knows how long barefooted and it has been a long ass day.

He was about to open your room when you stopped him, “Gray, can I sleep beside you tonight please.” You asked, voice soft as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. He smiled, feeling all giddy inside, “Of course Pumpkin.” He proceeded to walk down the hall and into his room, closing the door slowly with his feet.

“Now put me down, I need to wash my feet, they’re disgusting.” He chuckled, obeying your orders. You made your way to his bathroom and quickly rinsed off all the dirt and grime from your feet. After they were now fresh and clean, you trudged back in his room where it was already dark, the only thing illuminating the space was that blue light under his bed.

The sight in front of you took your breath away. You chewed on your bottom lip as you gawked at a shirtless Grayson, his other half was already underneath the covers, hands behind his head making his muscles more prominent than usual, eyes closed, not noticing you until he peeked one eye open.

“Liking what you see?” He teased, making you roll your eyes. “Come here Pumpkin.” He reached one hand out for you to take, which you did as you crawled beside him, resting your head on his chest with a sigh. He immediately wrapped his arms around your body, giving you a soft kiss on top of your head, legs tangled up under the sheets.

“I never would’ve thought this would happen.” He chuckled, chest vibrating in the process, pulling you even closer to him. “Well, things happen when you least expect it.” You stated, closing your eyes, ready to fall into a deep sleep.

“True.” Grayson breathed out, his eyes getting heavy as well. “Goodnight Gray…” You yawned. “Goodnight (Y/N)…” and with that, the two of you slowly dozed off at the sound of each other’s breathing, safe and content in each other’s arms, everything feeling so right.

The next morning…

You felt someone stir beside you, waking you up with the movement and the light that was shining through the huge glass sliding door. You blinked a couple of times, letting your eyes adjust to the brightness.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Grayson asked looking down at you with a concerned smile, plopping himself up with his elbow.

“It’s okay. Waking up to this face makes up to it.” You cupped his cheek, pulling him down for a quick kiss, him smiling from ear to ear. “And you say I’m cheesy.” He raised an eyebrow at you when you pulled away.

“Maybe your cheesiness is just rubbing off of me.” You joked. “Figures.” He hummed, leaning back down to kiss you again. Waking up to this every morning sure would be a treat.

“I think it’s time we get up, and face the other person living in this house.” Grayson said with a sympathetic smile. You frowned, almost forgetting about Ethan.

“Come on, it’s now going to be bad. He can’t stay mad at both of us for long a long time.” He sat up and got out of bed, slipping on a pair of sweats and a shirt. You groaned, burying your face in the pillow, not really looking forward to facing Ethan right now.

“Get up (Y/N).” He chuckled pulling the covers off your body, you curling into a ball, your ass now in clear view, his shirt only covering the tiniest bit. Grayson eyes darkened, but he quickly shook the thoughts away, he’ll deal with that later.

He lightly smacked your ass causing you to turn to him wide eyed. “Get your ass off the bed Pumpkin.” He laughed at your reaction, grabbing your arm forcing you out the bed. You groaned but stood up anyway, might as well get this over and done with.

The two of you dreadfully walked out of Grayson’s room, making your way into the kitchen and what you saw shocked the living daylights out of you.

“Goodmorning.” Ethan greeted with a wide smile, a box in his hand and a balloon on the other that said ‘Sorry I am such an asshole’ and not only that, the whole table was set up all nice with three different kinds of pancakes stacked on plates, beautifully plated with fruits and whipped cream at the top. There were also milkshakes that had those silly straws on them instead of normal ones.

He chuckled at your shocked faces, walking over to the two of you, handing you the box and giving Grayson the balloon. “Open it.” He turned to you, and you did, mouth hanging open even more at what’s inside.

They were brownies that spelled S-O-R-R-Y and some shaped like flowers, decorated with different patterns and colors.

You placed the box down and jumped into Ethan’s arms making him stumbled back, giving him a huge bear hug, making him sigh in relief as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Did you just make all these?” Grayson spoke after a few good minutes, walking over to the table.

“Yeah and no.” Ethan scratched the back of his neck, pulling your chair out for you to sit down just beside Grayson. “You ordered this from IHOP didn’t you?” You accused, making him nod with a laugh.

“You know I can’t make anything without burning the house down. But I plated it all nice and added the fruits and whipped cream.” He grinned, proud at what’s he’s done. “You Ethan Dolan are the most Extra person I have ever encountered.” He shrugged, face turning serious.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I’ve been such a horrible person to you these past few months, I shouldn’t have played with your feelings like that, I was such an asshole and an idiot, I hurt my you, my bestest friend without even knowing. It’s my job being your best friend to protect you at all cost and I ended up hurting you instead. I wanted you to be happy and I did the exact opposite. I’m sorry (Y/N).” Ethan took a deep breath, eyes looking at you with nothing but sincerity in them.

“And Gray, I have been such a bad brother to you. I should’ve known how you felt. I shouldn’t have been jealous with you getting close to (Y/N). I don’t know what came to me but I got fed up that we always share everything that I became selfish and just wanted (Y/N)’s attention to be all on me. And I fucked up because of that. I hurt you too, you’ve always been the best brother to me and in return I hurt you, I’m so sorry Gray.” Ethan turned to his brother with a deep frown, feeling genuinely regretful with everything that he’s done.

“I also have been so selfish to the both of you. I’ve been in the way this whole time, when you two deserved to be together.” You and Grayson glanced at each other with big smiles, cheeks heating up as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I mean look at that, you two are made for each other.” He added, gesturing at the both of you.

“Apology accepted E.” You giggled, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek. Grayson on the other hand stood up and gave his brother a hug from behind. “Aww I love you E.” He cooed, squeezing him tighter. “Love you too Gray.” Ethan chuckled, then Grayson suddenly placed a kiss on his cheek as well.

“Ew! Okay! Stop! Too much love! Grayson!” He groaned, choking lightly as his brother squeezed him even tighter.

“Gray he’s turning purple.” You joked, laughing at their crazy yet cute bond. Grayson chuckled, finally letting him go, sitting back beside you. Ethan took deep breaths with his hand on his chest; making you laugh even more.

“And (Y/N), not be awkward or anything but do you still have does you know, feelings?” Ethan asked nervously after he regained his breathing, just wanting to clarify things. You smiled at him then explained everything that you just realized last night.

After you’ve finished, he smiled widely. “Good, now you two can live happily ever after.” He clapped his hands together, feeling so relieved that he isn’t holding any of you back any more.

“Now let’s eat! All that talking made me so hungry.” Ethan started to dig in his pancakes, shoving it inside his mouth like that pig that he is.

“You two can date but with one condition.” Ethan pointed at the two of you with his mouth full. You looked at him curiously, taking a sip of your milkshake.

“No sex if I’m in the house. If you’re going to do it, you have to be as quiet as possible. I don’t want to hear any ‘Oh Grayson!’ ‘Yes Grayson right there!’ ‘Fuck Grayson!’ or else I’m kicking the two of you out.” You choked, putting the milkshake down as you coughed, Grayson’s hand patting your back, holding back his laughter.

“Ethan!” You scolded, looking at him in horror, but Grayson only threw his head back and howled in laughter.

“What? I’m serious! That’s going to scar me for life!” He defended, still shoving the stupid pancakes in his mouth like he hasn’t said profanities just before.

“Don’t worry E, well try to be as quiet as possible, I’ll sound proof the room if that’s what you want.” Grayson added, just wanting to press you even further.

“I can’t with you two.” You groaned, covering your face with both your hands. “I’m just kidding baby.” Grayson hugged you from the side, giving your crown a kiss, you turned to look at him just as he gave you another peck.

“Ew, not too much of that too.” Ethan scrunched his face in disgust, covering his eyes like a child. Grayson threw a berry at him. “Stop being a drama queen.”

“Anyway, I’m going back home for a while.” You stated, taking a bite of your pancakes.

“What? Why?” The twins asked in unison, looking at you worriedly.

“I just need a breather, get myself together after everything that’s happened.” You gave them both a smile. Everything was still a bit too much for you. Your feelings are already clear but you still need to take a few steps back before starting again with Grayson. You need to just relax and get your mind and heart straight so that the relationship would be as healthy as possible.

“Are you okay?” Grayson asked worriedly. You gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine Gray. I just need to get my mind and heart straight. Don’t worry, what I feel about you is still the same.” He nodded, understanding that you do need some space, rushing things will never end up well.

“Besides, I need a break from the two of you. You guys wore me out mentally and physically. I need to get away from all these testosterone for a while.” You added.

“You mean all these twins-tosterone?” Grayson joked with a proud smile. You and Ethan cringed at the same time, groaning as you buried your faces in your palm.

“You guys are mean. That was a good one.” Grayson huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back with his bottom lip jutted out.

“That was fucking awful Gray.” Ethan shook his head in disappointment. “I’d have to side with Ethan on that one Gray.” You patted his shoulder with a sympathetic smile. “Shut up.” You laughed, giving him a lightly peck on the cheek.

“When will you leave?” Grayson stirred the subject back to where it was, not wanting you to leave but he has to give you the space and time that you needed. “Tomorrow.” He frowned, “Why so soon?”

“Don’t worry Gray, I’ll be back. I’ll only be gone for a week, two max.” You gave him a knowing smile to at least try and ease him a bit.

The three of you continued to eat your breakfast, laughing and enjoying each other’s company just like how it used to be, but different at the same time. You guys still had the same bond like you always did since you became friends, but Grayson and you just happened to have something more.

2 weeks later…

You got off of the plane in a rush, excited to see your two goofballs again after 2 weeks of being apart. Even though these two weeks have been very refreshing to you, you still missed the loud and obnoxious yelling, the messy rooms, the crazy antics and the presence of two complete idiots.

Justifying what you just thought, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the two boys waiting for you, holding up a sign that said ‘Welcome Back (Y/N)!’ like you’ve been gone for over a year.

Once he saw you, Grayson lets go off the sign and darted straight towards you, but you just giggled at how cliché he is, slowly walking up towards him. He lifted you off your feet as he hugged you tightly, spinning you around making you squeal. He placed you back down and kissed you ever so dearly, not caring if it was too much PDA. “I missed you.” Grayson whispered between the kiss. “I missed you too Gray.”

“Okay that’s enough, I need to hug my best friend too.” The two of you pulled away, turning around to see Ethan with his arms wide open. You gave him a hug, him spinning you around just like what Grayson did, getting dizzier by the minute. “I missed you dork.” Ethan chuckled messing up your hair as he pulled away. You groaned, swatting his hand away. “I missed you too dick.” You retorted, messing up his on hair for revenge.

“The two of you are extra as fuck.” You lifted up the sign, shaking your head at the messy hand lettering, but loving every bit of it nonetheless. “That’s Grayson’s idea, not mine.” Ethan held his hands up, pointing a finger towards his brother.

“At least I know how to be sweet with my girlfriend.” Grayson glared at Ethan, sticking his tongue out. Mature, very mature. “You are definitely sweet Gray.” You walked over to him, giving him another kiss on the lips, his arms wrapping protectively around your waist.

“Can you two please save that in your rooms so that we can go now?” Ethan covered his eyes again, jokingly of course. He likes to see the both you this happy, it makes him so happy as well. He might bitch about you guys having too much PDA but that’s just for banter. It makes him so glad to see his brother and best friend so happy to have each other, to be together.

You and Grayson rolled your eyes at him. You and Grayson held hands as you walked your way out of the airport leaving Ethan to deal with your luggage.

“Should we keep him up all night tonight?” Grayson asked cheekily, wriggling his eyebrows at you teasingly before glancing back at his brother. “I heard that!” Ethan called out, shooting you two a glare, your suitcase in his hands rolling behind him.

You and Grayson laughed, looking at each other with the same amount of admiration, knowing that what you guys have, this is something special, something that’ll definitely last a lifetime.

The End.

-:-:-:-:-

Thanks for reading! Hope you guys liked it! Again thank you so much for all the love and support. I love you!

Tags: @bouttogolinkurbitch @notanotherdolantwinsblog

2K notes · View notes