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jrswritings · 18 days

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Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Three - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with Chapter One and Chapter Two! Masterlist :)

Chapter Three - Wildflowers

It was the next morning in your small motel room, the sun starting to peek through the curtains that were half-assed pulled over the window. Today was the day and you weren’t sure how you felt about it, since some of the stirred emotions last night were from the whiskey. Were you still excited to go out and do something different but with Tyler Owens? He was quite the eye candy, but what if Finn was right and Tyler would just hurt you in the end?

You laid out like a starfish in the cozy bed, not wanting to leave the warmth of the covers. Sighing to yourself and glancing at your watch that proudly showed 6:56 am, even on days off you couldn’t sleep in. You pushed up on your elbows to sit up and lean against the headboard which was colder than expected and sent shivers down your spine. You rubbed the sleepiness out of your eyes and flung the covers off your legs to immediately regret the decision as the room was chilly for the middle of summer in Oklahoma, and you decided to sleep with shorts on.

There was no turning back now, the heat was lost from the bed and wouldn’t be recovered until tonight when you crawled back in. You slid to the edge of the mattress then pushed yourself up and headed to the bathroom to start your usual morning routine.

Once you finished, you walked back to the loveseat in the corner of the room where your suitcase sprawled out with a pile of your dirty clothes next to it. You only packed one or two nicer outfits when you were chasing since you would usually get soaked and dirty. You pulled out your nicer light blue jeans with a few stylish cuts on the knee and thighs, a coral pink dress top, and a pair of black cowboy boots.

After changing into your attire for the day, you went back to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. You sighed and rubbed your face, it looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks.

“If he didn’t like what he saw, he wouldn’t have asked,” you mumbled to yourself, trying to boost your confidence. On storm chasing trips you never brought any makeup, why would you when the weather would just smear everything? You turned the sink on getting your fingers damp and fluffing your (y/h/c) and then put it into a French braid which was a workout you weren’t expecting to do this early in the morning.

By the time you were done, it was about 7:45. You sat on the edge of the bed and unplugged your phone from its charger, half expecting to see a message from Tyler, but it was just Facebook and Snapchat notifications. Shoving your phone in your back pocket and grabbing the small gray over-the-shoulder clutch you used for a purse when going somewhere instead of lugging around your usual one which has a lot of storm-chasing stuff in it, you grabbed your room key and headed out the front door.

As you locked it behind you, the door opened in the room to the left of you. Not knowing who was on the left, as Asher and Finn shared the room to the right, you glanced over to give a nonchalant ‘good morning’ to whoever it was.

Before you could even say a word, you saw it was Tyler who was dressed in a white shirt, red flannel over top, his normal blue jeans, cowboy boots, belt and belt buckle which was larger than Texas, and his signature cowboy hat.

“Well, good morning, gorgeous,” he said, leaning against the frame of his door and looking over at you.

“Good morning, Ty,” you said softly, “What caused you to stir up so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep any longer, t’was too excited for today,” he said with a big smile, “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m usually always up around 7 and out the door by 7:45, no matter what day it is or the circumstances,” you said, turning and heading towards the stairs. You didn’t want it to seem like you were losing sleep over him, heaven knows what he would do if he found out you couldn’t fall asleep until after midnight thinking about him and how the day would go.

Without paying much attention to the stairs, you somehow forgot that morning dew was a thing and metal was usually covered in it. You slipped on your first step and as soon as you started to go backward, you felt two arms catch you and the addicting smell of Tyler flooding your nose; this time without as much rain and sweat smell. This was not how you wanted the day to start, but at least he caught you so your butt didn’t get wet.

“Careful there, little lady,” he said, helping you steady yourself, “I don’t think the Storm Riders would take too kind to me if they found out you broke your rear goin’ out to breakfast with me.”

“I don’t think I would either,” you said, grabbing onto the railing and making your way down the rest of the stairs with Tyler right behind you.

“Do you want to walk over to JoAnn’s or take Ol Red?” He asked, holding the keys up with the various key chains he had collected.

“I’m going to walk, I don’t care how you get there,” you said, starting to walk down the street to JoAnn’s Whirlwind diner. In reality, as much as you wanted to just drive there, you needed a few minutes to gather your thoughts and pull yourself together; secretly wishing he would drive there and leave you alone for a minute.

“You go on in and grab us a booth, I’ll be there in a few, I’m going to fill up Ol Red over at Cyclone Gas and Go,” he said, motioning over to the opposite way you were heading.

“Will do, cowboy!” You called behind you, continuing to walk down the sidewalk. The warm morning sun felt wonderful on your face and body after still being chilled from escaping the covers. You pulled your sunglasses down to the bridge of your nose and pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear before crossing the street at the only stop light in town.

Behind you, his truck roared to life, the radio blaring ‘Fishing in the Dark’ by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band from the day before.

“Jesus Christ!” Tyler shouted, immediately turning the radio down. You turned your head and saw Tyler rubbing his ears slightly, then glancing around to see if anyone saw. You giggled and turned before he saw you, at least you both had embarrassing moments this morning.

Opening the diner door, you were greeted with a warm ‘Good morning, Honey!’ from one of the main waitresses, Cindy. She was always so welcoming and energetic.

“Good morning, Cindy!” You called, heading over to the corner booth where you usually hid yourself in the mornings to watch people.

“Coffee and water with a lemon, (Y/n)?” The other waitress, Jenny, asked, walking by your table.

“Yes please,” you said, “There will be someone joining me today, so if you could bring menus over I’d appreciate it.”

“Absolutely!” Jenny said, walking behind the counter and filling up one of their signature blue mugs with a tornado and their branding on it with coffee.

She came over and sat your drinks down in front of you, along with menus and silverware. You grabbed a couple of the little cup creamers and a sugar packet, dumping them into your coffee and stirring it gently.

“Thank you, Jenny,” you said, smiling at her.

“Just flag us down when your friend gets here,” she said, walking off to another table.

You pulled your phone out and opened Snapchat, opening the few snaps from your team and surprisingly Dani from the Wranglers. You tap on the chat and see it’s a photo of you and Tyler dancing from last night. Remembering the night's events and how calm you felt while slowly dancing with him made you smile. You saved the picture in the chat and messaged her back, ‘Thanks for sending this! I’m not sure who taught him how to dance, but they did well, haha!’

You sat your phone down next to your purse beside your thigh, grabbed your coffee cup, and held it to your mouth taking in its heat. While taking a sip of the warm liquid, the bells above the door rang throughout the diner. You glanced up to see Tyler strolling in with one hand behind his back and the other taking his hat off. You watched him scan the tables looking for you, giving a courteous slight wave to signal where you were. As soon as he saw you, it was like his whole face lit up with excitement like a kid in a candy store.

He walked over, setting his hat down on the seat, and slid in across from you, one hand still behind him.

“What are you hiding there, Owens?” You asked, taking a sip of your coffee. As if on cue, he pulled out a bouquet of wildflowers tied together with a white bow.

“Just some beautiful flowers for an even more beautiful woman,” he said smiling, “I’d lie and say I picked them myself but there were a couple of little kids selling them outside the gas station and I couldn’t help myself.”

Want More? Here's Chapter Four!

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens twisters #twisters #twisters x reader #glen powell #glen powell x reader #writing #tyler owens fanfiction

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creedslove · 1 year

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DESERVE IT - PART NINETEEN

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: gossip, wedding dresses trials and the visit of your mother who obviously doesn't like your fiance makes everyone really question if your wedding will happen or not

• PART ONE TO EIGHTEEN ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: fluff, mentions of smut and actual smut yay (unprotected p in v, ass play, butt plug (f!), oral f!receiving, fingering and SQUIRTING) breeding kink if you squint, reader's mom is a bitch, insecure!reader, insecure!Javi, fluff ❤️

A/N: besties, this one was a real hard chapter to write. It took me days to get it done and it wasn't even good, I don't know what happened, it felt like I simply couldn't get the story going, but in fact, I know exactly what happened: I am having a real hard time to let this story go, which is why I announce you guys, next chapter (chapter 20) will be our last one! It's time to give reader and Javi the happy ending they deserve it ❤️

5.8k words

The first thing you felt when you stirred in bed as you were trapped in that moment between sleep and consciousness, was Javier's boner pressed against your body. It wasn't unusual, it was a feeling you grew to love every single morning you woke up next to him, but with his recent absence once he left Colombia, you had missed it. It was just one of the particularities of your relationship that just made you and Javi… well, you and Javi.

You rubbed yourself against his hard on, dragging whimpers from his sleeping face, you didn't mean to tease him, you just wanted to be closer, feel his warmth against your body, like you had longed for all the time you had to spend apart. His arm was thrown over your body as you felt him sinking his face further into your hair, giggling softly at how he just mumbled something in his sleep. You hadn't seen Javi relaxed like that in months, you liked it. He wasn't wary, his body wasn't tense or stiff and he didn't wake up at every move you made in bed.

You opened your eyes and took in your surroundings, you were so used to the old routine, you expected to find yourself in his apartment in Colombia, the old furniture, the mirror facing the bed, the heat barging in from the window, but instead, you saw the room was still dark, blinders closed, the disposal of the furniture was different, the decoration wasn't the same, but the mirror by the bed… that remained. Dirty old Javier, always showing his kinkiness in the slightest details. He mumbled again against your head and you chuckled, you loved this new dynamics you two had established ever since you got to Laredo, it'd been a few weeks now and you were adapting just fine.

At first, you were so worried and anxious about everything. First of all, terrified Chucho would be annoyed at your presence, after all Javier just told him eventually one day you would move in with them and just a couple of days later you showed up there without a warning and he was forced to take you in. No matter how many times Javier tried assuring you Chucho was fine with it, you still felt worried about bothering him, you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in his own home and more than once you reminded Javi you would be okay with going somewhere else.

But you father-in-law happened to be a real welcoming person; at first, he was serious, kept to himself, and he very often glanced at you, as if he analyzed you, trying to figure out if you were a good person or not. At first, it was obvious he didn't put faith into Javier's engagement, that boy had been engaged once and things didn't end well for neither part, and Chucho was terrified of another scandal and the inevitable humiliation that would come together in case his son replicated his old behavior; that was until he noticed how head over heels Javier was for you, and then his concerns changed: what if instead of Javier breaking your heart, you broke his?

And that was why at first, all the older man did was stare at you and watch you quietly, trying to get a glimpse of your intentions. He knew Javier wasn't a child anymore, his son was strong, independent, and didn't get attached easily, but at the same time, Chucho had never seen him act towards a woman like that, he could see the need Javier had of you, of your touch, how he constantly had a hand over your body: on the small of your back, your thigh, your waist. It was explicit to him how emotionally dependent Javier was on you and it made him shiver to think of what would happen if you left him, he was sure his son would have a hell to pay. Some would've said he deserved it, he had it coming, but Chucho would be heartbroken too, he knew his son already came back from Colombia a little broken after everything he witnessed, and he didn't want him to suffer anymore.

But you started waking up early every morning and made everyone breakfast and your father-in-law couldn't deny the fact you were a good cook, and that breakfast was way better than his and his son's. Then when Javi and him left for work, you'd stay, organize the house a little and wait for them always with lunch and dinner ready and Chucho didn't hate that at all. But what really got to his heart, was when you asked him about what Javier was like when he was little. He saw it was finally his opportunity to speak, he'd missed that, having someone to talk to and you and him were quick to establish a good, sweet relationship. He was fatherly and protective of you and you were kind and patient with him. You understood the years of loneliness made him harden, somewhat like it had happened to Javier in Colombia, but once you showed him you were willing to listen to him, to what he had to say, Chucho became almost a second father to you, he appreciated you for giving him the attention Javier didn't, you listened to him, you paid attention to his advices and his life experience, and before he knew, he was convinced you were the right girl for his son, because to Chucho, you were already part of the family.

You also really enjoyed the times you spent with him, he was a wise man, he told you a lot about his life, his deceased wife and of course, about your Javi. And that's how you learned Javier was terrified of chickens when he was a toddler, and how he fell from a tree and broke his arm when he was eight. And how Chucho walked on him losing his virginity with Lorraine once when he came earlier from work.

And Javier wanted to kill himself, mortified and deeply embarrassed about being exposed like that to you. He knew you had a deep admiration for him, and he worried that would be ruined after the dreadful things his dad had told you about his life.

And all you could do was laugh, you loved learning more about him, each time you passed by a chicken you couldn't help yourself but giggle, and whenever you saw Lorraine running errands in town you couldn't help but cringe at the story you heard. No wonder she barely looked Chucho in the eyes. You also felt pretty good to learn that Chucho never called Lorraine 'mijita' just like he called you. You knew it was petty, she probably didn't even care about the Peñas anymore, but you couldn't help giving into that small competition established in your mind and fueled by people in town. Ever since Javier arrived, many people seemed to be betting against your relationship, they didn't mean harm for real, but they just had their fun by letting snarky comments here and there as if you and Javi were two tabloid celebrities with a scandalous life.

In the first weeks, it bothered you a little, it was just so disrespectful to be walking around the store and have people whispering about you, not even waiting for you to leave before making their comments, but as you were getting used to the city, you began simply not caring about things at all. Whenever you were out with Javi, you made sure to hold his hand, kiss his cheek or peck his lips, if people wanted to comment, then you two would give them something to talk about. So it stopped being annoying and it became funny, to the point of you and Javi establishing a competition of gossip you'd heard about yourselves.

'Did you know Y/N is pregnant and she is trying to hide?'

'I heard Javier is going back to Colombia and leaving his girlfriend behind'

'They aren't a couple, they are both undercover to chase down Pablo Escobar who faked his own death and moved to Laredo"

It always made you and Javi laugh, it was good to know your relationship was healthy enough so you could joke about stuff like that, you felt good about it, and Javi felt his heart swelling with pride to see you trusted him blindly.

While Chucho and Javi left for work, you often walked around town, sending out your resume to companies you found interesting, you often went grocery shopping and you got your library card done, so you could pick up a book and entertain yourself. Camila, the girl who gave you a ride to meet Javi the day you got to Laredo became your friend, and you sometimes hung out together at coffee shops or bakeries. Your life in Laredo was going better than expected, you weren't having any problems, you enjoyed the place, the weather, your relationship with Javi was just as good as it had been, he still couldn't keep his hands off you and you had already fucked in places you probably shouldn't have. His truck for once, the stables, the green fields behind his ranch… He also fingered you when you two went to the movies. You didn't even pretend you didn't want to, or that you thought it wasn't a good idea anymore… anywhere Javi wanted to take you, he had you willing to spread your legs for him.

It was so good, the intimacy you had with Javi you never had with anyone and you couldn't even if you tried. Though Javi's bedroom was away from his dad, you couldn't make as much noise as you would like to, so every Sunday morning, while Chucho went to church as a good catholic man, you and Javi enjoyed your alone time together. He would take his time with you and you loved every single part of it.

So you were already awake, when the rooster crowed and you knew it was only a matter of time for Chucho to leave for church. On the weekends, he established you didn't have to make them breakfast, it was your time off, but you still got up and made it, because the earlier he has breakfast, the sooner he'd leave you and Javi alone.

You were organizing the kitchen when Javi walked to you, arms snaking around your waist and kissing your neck. You whimpered at his touch, always knowing your body so well.

"Come on Javi, have breakfast honey" you whispered as he kissed your neck, nibbling it and not caring if he'd leave the mark of his teeth on your skin.

You groaned at his touch, Javier just had a way to touch and tease you, making everything else seem so distant and meaningless. At his touch, it felt like nothing but him and his cock mattered to you.

"You know damn well what I wanna have for breakfast baby girl" he whispered, his hands going for your breasts, squeezing them softly and toying with your nipples "you know I'm so fucking hungry… and thirsty for you" Javier whispered into your ear and sent shivers down your spine. Ever since he'd made you squirt for the first time, Javi was addicted to it, and he devoted his Sunday mornings to see you pour for him. There was nothing that made that man go on more than drip down your sweet honey, it drove him mad and you both knew it. "Come on cariño, the bed is all ready for you… everything is waterproof, your soft towels are in place so you can make your delicious mess, mi amor" he whispered and took you by the hand.

•••

Javi had been pounding into you for a while, you were feeling so worked up, your wetness leaking out of you as your cunt was already sensitive and swollen. Javier had teased and stimulated you, knowing just how to get you ready for him. A plug he had gifted you a couple of weeks before, shoved deep into your tight asshole, because he just knew you squirted when all your holes were filled. You felt so full, Javi's thick cock pounding into you as he pulled and pushed your plug by its base, fucking your ass at the same time. You were tired, sweaty, the knot in your lower belly getting more and more urgent and yet you still had to be strong enough to hold back your orgasm because Javi would punish you if you came before he told you it was okay to do it.

Your legs shook and Javi groaned at each thrust, the way your walls tightened around his cock, making him even more sensitive to you, but he was determined, he wanted to have all of your honey and he wouldn't stop until he got it.

Suddenly, his moves ceased and you felt empty as Javier slid out of you. You panted, trying to catch your breath glad to have a small break, which didn't take very long, not with Javi getting between your legs once more and breathing down your cunt "you're so perfect hermosa, you look so beautiful all spread up and open just for me…" he praised, his lips ghosting over your inner thigh, small gentle kisses, just enough to drag goosebumps all over your skin.

"Javi please… don't tease" you whimpered and saw his frown, before his hand swatted your cunt in one dry slap

"I can do whatever you want, cariño, this cunt is mine, this ass is mine, you are entirely mine, aren't ya?" He questioned you and you just nodded at him, whimpering as Javi finally got to your clit, suckling on it at the same time he used both arms to keep your waist in place, not letting you escape him as he ate you out, your legs shaking as he locked you with one arm, leaving the other free and shoving two fingers deep into your cunt, hitting your special spot and speeding up. He smirked at the undeniable pleasure in your face, loving how you moaned and slithered softly among the sheets. You felt that intense sensation building up once more, your lower belly felt on fire and you knew you were too close now, Javi could tell you weren't able to hold back any longer and softened up, giving your hard, soaked clit a gentle kiss "come on princesa, pour for me, make it fucking rain" he whispered against your pussy and you finally relaxed, reaching for your orgasm and letting the stream hit Javier.

You had only blurs of him waiting for your sweetness, you couldn't keep your eyes open, but Javi stood right there loving to get your load all over his face.

You felt like you were melting in a puddle of pleasure, feeling tired and a little sore and yet, Javi climbed on top of you, his face wet with your juices as he kissed you and got his cock inside of you again

"Come on cariño, let's make our baby Peña" he whispered into your ear.

•••

You giggled as you entered the kitchen, Javi was right behind you, hands around your waist, squeezing you and making you giggle as the two of you had dripping hair and the clothes still hanging tight to your bodies, as you exited the shower not more than minutes before. You should have made lunch at least an hour before, knowing Chucho would come from church hungry and you and Javi could also eat after spending a lot of energy in bed, but the way he couldn't keep his hands off you, really jeopardized the other activities in the house, and at the same time you sort of felt guilty about it, you couldn't resist when it came to Javier Peña. He was your addiction, you just needed and craved him at every hour of your day, the weeks you'd spent apart you thought you were going crazy without him by your side, so now that you could spend a lifetime with him, you definitely didn't want to let it go. As you got into the kitchen, you stopped dead on tracks

"Mom?!" You nearly shouted, eyes widening as you saw how your mother stood up next to Chucho, who had his hands on his waist - a classic Javier pose and you knew where he got that from, you could chuckle to yourself at that new piece of information on your fiance, if it weren't for the unnerving feeling your mom was giving you. The way she looked around displeased with everything and everyone. How she eyed Javier up and down and couldn't show the slightest smile or any traces of sympathy. "W-what are you doing here?" It was all you could ask her, watching as she shook her head and scoffed

"What exactly did you expect? You simply write me a letter saying you quit your job and that you were going to get married and live in this place?" She looked around "I needed to see with my own eyes, and yes, Y/N, you are indeed out of your mind!"

"I'm not. I'm marrying Javier and I'm staying in Laredo, because Javi and Don Chucho took me in and treat me like family. I don't care what you say, mom, I'm staying" you said and frowned "how did you even get in here?" And it was Chucho's turn to clear his throat and add his own version to the conversation

"I found the lady looking for information downtown, she wanted to know where our ranch was so I offered a ride"

Javier saw how tense you got and tried using his charms to soothe your mom, maybe all she needed was some flattering, just to get to know him, not many women could resists Javier's sweet brown eyes, his beautiful smile and his polite manners, but the moment he tried greeting him properly your mom made everything at her power to keep him away, not hiding the disdain for him, which immediately made you angry and guilty, to have your uninvited mom treating like shit the people who loved and treated you like family.

Everyone could feel the tension in that kitchen and yet it was a mystery how things would be solved. Luckily to you, Chucho offered to take all of you out for lunch at a nice restaurant, then he suggested you should take your mom to some shops and other sights of Laredo, and though you were thankful for that, you felt really upset to know she was there only with one mission: make you give up on your wedding.

You spent the rest of the day in a thick tension, you and your mom chatted briefly about family, work, and one could see and think it was just an ordinary case of mom and daughter catching up on the news, but you knew there was more to it. Luckily, Chucho's suggestion worked and she was easily distracted during the day, getting to know the city and going to bed early, being tired because of her trip. Javi also noticed everything and though he hadn't questioned you through the day you knew you would have a conversation about it. For all the time you've known each other, you barely spoke about your family, all you told him was that you had a complicated relationship with your mother and that they used to really like your former fiance, so when he left you, it all came out as a shock. You two hadn't discussed a guest list because after a whole week of trying to plan the details, you had decided to have a courthouse wedding. Not really you took that decision, but rather Javier and Chucho did. You realized the two of them were terrified of another scandal concerning that matter and even if you reassured Javier you trusted him and knew things would be different this time, he still thought it was safer to go with his dad's idea. You did feel disappointed, you'd already envisioned marrying Javier in a simple, but beautiful party, you had dreamed about inviting Murphy, Connie and your other friends, your family of course, not everybody, but the ones you were the closest to, and yet, you ended up agreeing to just signing the papers and carrying on with your day. A party didn't matter that much, but you would like to celebrate it, to put on a nice beautiful dress and show that whole town that yes, you and Javier loved each other and you would work out, despite every mean thing that'd been said and spread by those people. Your mom also agreed on having a discrete, small wedding, but it puzzled her to know why everyone seemed to be insisting on it, you could tell she was suspicious of something but you didn't feel like telling her everything that happened between Javier and his first bride, it would only bring all of you chaos and arguments.

When you got in your bedroom later that night, you had hopes Javi was already asleep, you didn't quite know what to expect, of course he was an intelligent and observing man and he definitely understood from the very beginning you mom already hated him. You didn't know if it bothered Javi or not, but it probably did a little, no one liked to be hated by someone else and especially not without a good reason. You closed the door quietly, seeing Javi was lying in bed and smiled relieved, though he immediately raised his head from his pillow and immediately turned towards you

"Cariño?" He called you and you bit your lips "we need to talk" he told you and beckoned, watching as you walked towards the edge of the bed and couldn't help but chuckle as he pulled you by your arm, making you lose balance and fall on top of him. You watched Javier closely, taking in how handsome he was, your heart not taking it as you admired his side profile and gently you traced the shape of his nose with the tip of your fingers, smiling at him, though you could see his expression was serious.

"Your mom doesn't want us to get married, does she?" He sighed as you nodded. "why? Does she know about Lorraine?" You shook your head shyly "I need you to use your words, cariño… come on" he whispered against your ear as if he was seducing you, like he often did.

"She doesn't, Javi… I haven't told my mom a lot of things, I haven't even called her, I wrote her a letter, hoping we would've been married by the time she got it. It felt weird not to tell her, but I knew she would have this reaction. She didn't like to know I was in love with you when I first got to Colombia and she definitely doesn't like our lifestyle, you know like the ranch and other things like this…" you said ashamed and looked down "I am not happy with her visit Javi, and I pissed off at how she got here and she thinks she's the queen of the world" you confessed and Javi straightened up his posture, rubbing his forehead and sighing "if she stays here for a long time, she will eventually find out about the gossip… maybe we should just go to the courthouse tomorrow, sign the papers and get this thing over with" he suggested and you couldn't help but feel disappointed, your wedding was now 'this thing'?! You shook your head

"Javi, do you really wanna marry me?" You asked worriedly and watched as he sighed again "I don't wanna be annoying and insecure, that's just not us… but we went from leaving Colombia and getting married, having a beautiful party, wearing a wedding dress for you, and then we just thought of a courthouse wedding and now you tell me we should do it tomorrow, just to get this thing over with?"

Javi held your face between his big hands and stroked your cheek gently, leaning in and pecked your lips, before getting off bed and getting on his knees in front of you. He took your hand, caressing it and watching his mom's ring "you're completely right, hermosa. I'm sorry if I made you feel like that, of course I still wanna marry you. I was worried you wouldn't want it after your mom arrived" he sighed "I don't want you to be upset… I want you to go out tomorrow and get yourself a pretty wedding dress, the most beautiful one you can find… I want you to be even more gorgeous to me, and once you get your dress we will figure something out, okay? Something that won't be as impersonal as a courthouse wedding… I just want you to be my wife, I want to have baby with you some day, mi amor" he said, giving you his sweet eyes, and leaning towards your touch as you caressed his cheek.

•••

"You know mom, you didn't really need to come here with me, it's a simple task… I'll pick a dress I like and buy it" you said as the two of you walked into the wedding dress store, the only one in Laredo and that you were sure you wouldn't really like the options, judging by what you'd seen in the window at least. You mom just rolled her eyes and scoffed

"You are already marrying this… man" she said "the least I can do for you is to help you pick up a decent wedding dress, knowing your taste it will definitely be a nightmare, Y/N" you gritted your teeth and before you could say anything else, a smiling girl came towards you, introducing herself as the clerk and dragging you over to the wedding dresses section. No matter how many times you'd said you were looking for a simple model, something comfortable and pretty, all she did was show you layers and layers of white, flamboyant lace, gigantic veils and your heart clenched to see you were having a hard time to even pick a dress, maybe it was all a sign? No, you shook that thought away, you and Javi were meant to be together, and no matter what was going on, you two would get married.

When you finally spotted a simple, sleeveless white dress, you sighed relieved. You didn't like it very much, but it fit better the kind of party - if you were having a party at all - than the other options and you insisted on trying it on, despite the comments coming from both your mom and the clerk, who stated the dress was too plain and too simple. You felt your blood boiling, but you didn't say anything at all, it was bad enough you and Javi were the constant subject of gossip around town, and you figured a public argument with your mom wouldn't favor either of you, so you forced yourself to suck it up and get inside the fitting room.

The clerk smiled at your mom trying to make small talk "so… ma'am, your daughter is marrying Javier Peña… he's kind of a big deal here in Laredo, everybody knows him, he's more of a lição hero, and it's cool that his first bride bought her dress here, and now his second bride is doing the same, hopefully she'll be luckier than Lorraine" the young girl shrugged, trying to sound innocent but also looking for some juicy details she could spread on with her co-workers later.

Your mom's eyes snapped at the girl's words and she didn't stop inquiring until your mom got the full, whole story. And boy, she wasn't happy about it.

You watched yourself in the mirror, you hated the dress. Maybe not the dress, but you were hating that experience, that tension and the stress. You hated that store, you hated that sales clerk who always whispered when she saw you and Javi passing by. There was nothing you wanted more than to marry Javi, and he had been clear about wanting to marry you too, but it felt like things weren't collaborating. Not even a dress you could find, and it made you anxious. As you undressed, you couldn't help but stare at your stomach, picturing if you'd look too different with a pregnant bump. You knew getting pregnant was just a matter of time and quite honestly you were a bit surprised it hadn't happened yet, with the amount of times Javi finished inside of you. Still, it didn't feel like the right moment just yet, but when it did, you'd be very happy to have baby Peña inside.

You knew it was time to get rid of that horrible dress and head home, but you didn't think your mom would be waiting for you at the door, her face seemed to have been replaced with a mask of anger which puzzled you until you all got to the ranch.

Chucho and Javi were at the table having some coffee and a slice of cake when they heard the commotion of the two women barging in. Your voices were loud but muffled and though it was obvious you and your mother were having an argument, they still couldn't exactly understand what you two were quarreling about. Both men got up and walked to the door, getting to the living room where you were already crying and your mom made sure to tell you horrible words, wanting to express her point of view which she considered to be the only right way to see things.

Javier didn't like that distress, he knew you were out to see your wedding dress, it was supposed to be a nice day for a woman, and he didn't need to be a genius to see whatever happened ruined it for you. His first reaction was to wrap his arms around your body and pull you closer, kissing the top of your head and stroking your cheek "shh calm down, cariño… what happened?" He asked worried but your mom immediately walked to him

"You happened!!!" She yelled "you happened to disgrace my daughter's life, Javier! How can she marry someone like you? You cannot even be called a man! You're a coward, a disgusting person!!! And my daughter is the stupidest woman in the world!!! She was humiliated by a man like you, but she seems to like your type because she is willing to make the same mistake for the second time now!!!" Your mom yelled feeling so angry and wanting to inflict as much pain as she could "and even if you don't abandon her at the altar, Mr. Peña… what do you have to offer her? This house? A life on the farm? Taking care of kids and animals? Until what? She gets too unattractive to you and you start chasing down girls half your age?"

"ENOUGH!!!" you finally roared, being fed up with that scene, that horrid act of cruelty "enough!!! You have no right to say those things, mom!!! You weren't invited here, you weren't even invited to the wedding, I just told you I would be getting married to Javi, well, now I don't even know if there will be a wedding, but you are no one to tell me what to do or what not to do!!! I love Javi and I want this life, we both do! I trust him, I wanna be his wife, be the mother of his children and if you don't like it, just go away!!! I'm not asking for permission or your approval!" You finally said and gently got rid of Javi's arms, not wanting to be there any longer.

You ran out the door and went for the green fields, the ones you often made love with him and walked until you were far away from the house, from that ranch that despite the large size, made you feel suffocated. You and sat down on the grass and allowed yourself to shed your tears, letting all the hurt out of your chest as you felt so upset at everything that was happening. Your mom had no right to try to ruin everything for you, you were supposed to be living the best of your relationship with Javi and not having everything spoiled by anyone just because they thought it was fun to comment on your life.

You hung your head low and sighed, trying to find some inner peace.

Some time later, Javi watched you from afar as he squinted his eyes because of the sun and placed his hands on his hips. He took a deep breath and walked towards you, climbing the small hill you sat yourself on and reaching you.

"Hey" he said licking his bottom lip "your mom packed her things and decided to fly back home, dad just took her to the airport…" he said carefully and watched as you nodded, your eyes still red and puffy. It simply broke his heart.

"J-Javi I'm so sorry about what she said… about everything, this scene, this argument, about the things I've told you… I'm just so tired of this, of having to step on eggshells all the time when we are out because people gossip about us, it's not fair we have to give up our wedding, our celebration of a new start because of a bunch of dicks around here… all the gossip was funny at first, but now's just tiring. I'm tired of having people telling me you're going to abandon me or you're going to cheat on me, because you're not" you held Javier's face between your hands and stared into his eyes "I know you'll never do this, we both know it" you sniffed sadly as Javi gently wiped the tears that insisted on falling down.

"You're totally right, cariño… I'm tired of that too, I understand if you don't wanna marry me or if you don't wanna live in Laredo with me, but I thought of a solution to show these fucking hillbillies how we're meant to be for real: I want to have a big ranch wedding, it can be here, in the fields… we get a priest or whatever to bless our ceremony, we have a big party so we can show everyone how we are getting married for real, the whole town as a witness to our love, so they'll shut up about it. You can get your wedding dress handmade with the seamstress who lives a couple of miles away…" he suggested it, his heart hammering his ribcage as he watched you closely. "What do you say, mi amor? Will you still marry me?"

And then Javi stared at you with his stupid, deep brown eyes, you could tell at that moment he would do anything for you and your heart clenched at how much you loved him, it just ran through your body, your veins, your pores. You loved Javier with your whole heart and soul and it was obvious you would still marry him.

_____

A/N: I hope you guys liked it 😭

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canirove · 7 months

Text

My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 14

Author's note: You don't want to miss Friday's chapter 👀

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

When I woke up the next day, my head hurt like hell. Everything hurt like hell, to be honest, and I wasn't sure about where I was. That wasn't my room at my grandma's house, that wasn't my bed and... And someone's arm was around my waist.

"Shit" I whispered. What had I done?

I tried to move and turn to see who was hugging me, but his grip was too firm, and I couldn't move without waking him up. Because this definitely was a man's arm.

I needed to remember. What had happened last night? I went to a party with Aaron Ramsdale. To Ben White’s house. So that's where we probably were. And we drank something pink, and then... Rúben. I remembered talking with Rúben. And dancing. But what did I do after that?

"Fuck!" the man behind me said, both of us jumping when someone closed a door with too much force. "That was too loud" he said, his arm leaving my body as he changed his position. "Are you awake?"

I recognized that voice. Aaron. The man next to me was Aaron. Why was I sharing a bed with him?

"I am" I said, my voice sounding all cranky. I needed a glass of water so badly...

"I need some water" he said as if reading my mind. "Do you want some?"

"Please."

I felt him leave the bed and walk somewhere, turning a light that was too bright, both of us complain about it. While he cursed, I hid my head under the duvet. And that's when I noticed I was just in my underwear. Dear God, what had I done?

"Why are you hiding?" Aaron said next to me.

"The light. Too bright" I said, still under the duvet.

"Happy hangover" he chuckled, leaving the glass on the bedside table before getting back in bed next to me.

This was bad. This was so so bad. And my head hurt. And I needed to pee. Badly. So finding some courage God knows where, I moved from under the duvet, looking around.

"Morning" Aaron said.

"Hi" I replied, not looking at him. "Bathroom?"

"The door in front of us."

"Thank you" I said, getting up from the bed. But the moment I was on my feet, everything started moving.

"Woah, careful there" Aaron said, holding me by the arms. "Slow movements."

"Slow movements" I repeated, getting up again.

Once inside the bathroom, I made sure to lock the door.

"Ok" I said, taking a deep breath. I moved to look at myself in the mirror, see if there was anything different about me. But beyond looking horrible, my hair being a mess and my eyes red and swollen, I looked like always.

"You took your time there" Aaron said when I finally came out. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. Just too much liquid in my body."

"We drank a bit, didn't we?"

"I could drink a lot more. But just water" I said, getting back in bed and drinking the glass he had brought me in just one go.

"Same. Do you want me to get us something to eat? That will also help."

"Talking from experience?"

"I'm afraid so" he said with that big smile of his.

"Ok. But Aaron," I said once he got up, just wearing his boxers. "Can you see if my phone is over there? My grandma may be going nuts wondering where I am."

"She knows you are with me. When you were in the bathroom I checked my phone and I had a text from my dad saying not to worry, that they knew" he said, handing me my phone.

"Oh, great. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"This is the best meal of my entire life."

"It's just a breakfast burrito" Aaron chuckled before giving his a big bite.

"Best meal ever" I repeated. Ben had thought of everything, getting breakfast for those guests who had decided to stay. "Do you think he'll get mad if we get his sheets dirty?"

"He'll probably burn all the sheets that have been used tonight" Aaron laughed.

"Do... Do you..." I mumbled, putting down my burrito.

"Do I...?" he asked with a smile.

"Do you remember what happened last night?"

"You don't?"

"I remember us dancing and calling..."

"Rúben."

"Yes."

"I think he's gonna be a bit pissed."

"What?" I said, my voice coming out louder than I expected.

"We made out while we were dancing. Then we came here, we kept making out, ended up in our underwear, and then…”

“And then?”

“Then I… I… God, this is so embarrassing.”

“What happened, Aaron? Tell me.”

“Well, I started touching you down there, and you basically moaned Rúben's name instead of mine.”

“Oh my God” I gasped.

"You have gone so red" he laughed. "But it's ok, don't worry.”

“Really?”

“It is. It had never happened before, but there is a first time for everything” he shrugged.

"I don't know what to say, I…”

“You don't have to say anything. At least not to me.”

“What do you… Oh.”

“Yep.”

Rúben. The call. He was going to ask me about what had happened after. And since I can't lie because my face gives it all away…

“Urgh, I'm such an idiot!”

"Hey, don't" Aaron said, holding my hand. "Not crying under my watch."

"But I... I just ruined everything before it even started!"

"You don't know that."

"Oh, c'mon Aaron. If the girl you liked got drunk and did what we did with a guy she just met, wouldn’t you be mad at her? Wouldn’t you feel hurt and betrayed?"

"He may understand" he said after a few seconds of silence. "You said you were single, it isn't cheating."

"We had something going on, Aaron. And now it is gone."

"Oh, fuck!" he cursed, hitting the bed and making the food go everywhere. We could add Ben to the list of people angry with us. "This is all my fault. I shouldn't have brought you here, or told you to have a drink when you said you didn't drink, or..."

"It is my fault, Aaron. Not yours. I said yes to all of that, you didn't push me to do anything" I said between sobs.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry" he said, moving closer and hugging me, my body shaking while I cried.

I had fucked up. And big time.

#ruben dias #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias imagine #football fanfic #football imagine

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tearfallpixie · 1 month

Text

Make Mama Happy - Chapter 12

Only back a little. I am dragging today but I felt good enough to give you the next chapters. 🖤🖤🖤

Tags: @nerdraging4point0 @thesazzb @synthetic-wasp-570 @circle-with-me @beaker1636 @itsjustemily @witchyweeb34 @agravemisstake @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @faceless-mirror @nonamessblog @yournecessaryevil @black-damask1999

@lyschko666 @vinyardmauro @skulliecadaver-blog @some-daniela @latenightmusiclover @rye14-blog1 @somewhere-diamond @Shilohrosechicken @abiomens @awkwardalex @rumoured-whispers @miss570

“Heather!” I screamed. Vinny and I had gone to the airport to pick up my best friend and her boyfriend and to say I had missed her was an understatement. I’m sure to the onlookers it was comical to see two grown women running full speed at each other, but I didn’t care. I missed my best friend too much.

“Nichole!” We tackled each other in the middle of the walkway and stood there for what felt like a lifetime. “I missed you so much.”

“Never leave me for that long again or I’m cutting off all of your hair.” I cried; the threat completely empty but it got a laugh out of her.

“I promise.” We pulled away and I saw Rick standing behind her with a guilty expression.

“Hey brat. I kinda missed you.” He mumbled. “Can I get a hug?” I cocked my head but when he opened his arms, I found myself walking into them. We hugged each other for a second before pulling back and me landing a decent punch to his arm.

“I guess I kinda missed you too. But you deserved that. Asshole.” I huffed as an afterthought, pride coursing through my body as he rubbed his now sore arm with a grin. The boys hugged briefly before we made our way over to the baggage claim and found their luggage.

“You and Rick are getting along? Is the world ending?” Heather asked me quietly. We were trailing a few feet behind our boys so they couldn’t hear us over the roar of all the people returning home from the holidays.

“Don’t think to much into it. He texted me on Christmas with an apology and I decided to try to be friends. I don’t expect it to last.” I giggled. We got their stuff and headed out to the car, Rick and Vinny sitting up front and Heather and I sitting in the back. It was about a 20-minute drive back to Rickys place and I had to admire it. I hadn’t been there before so I didn’t realize that his house was sitting on a bit of land and tucked inside a bunch of trees. “Your home is beautiful Richard.” His house was a gorgeous white two story house that had giant windows looking into the living room to let in a lot of natural light.

“Thank you. I got lucky to find this property.” We unloaded their bags and Rick handed his to Vinny. “Can you take that up to my room please?” The drummer nodded and both him and Heather went inside and up the stairs. “So I was thinking Thursday afternoon we could go look at rings.” He said casually.

“Are we not going to talk about this?” I asked, my frustration with how dismissive he was being boiling over.

“What? I’m trying to.” He said stupidly.

“Not ring shopping Rick! You hate me! Why are you acting all buddy-buddy now?” I snapped.

“You’re dating Vinny. I’m stuck with you in my life now so I might as well get use to you being here.” He shrugged. “You guys seem happy too. So, I guess I was wrong about you.”

“Jesus! You can’t go 10 minutes without trying to take a jab at me, can you? Did you forget you tried to lie about me to my best friend? Tried to convince her I was scum who tried to steal you away?” I was getting seriously annoyed with him in that moment.

“I apologized for that! And I’m being truthful. I was wrong about you and I’m sorry!” He was getting angry now too. I didn’t know how we were ever going to try to make a friendship work if we couldn’t go 5 minutes without fighting.

“Yeah, whatever. This is still probably some joke so you and Vin can have one last laugh. I like him a lot, but I can never catch a break with you two.” I growled. Ricks eyes went wide but they weren’t looking at me. I turned around to see Vinny and Heather standing in the doorway of the house both of them looking sad but an underlying look of anger in Vinny’s eyes.

“Do you still think so little of me?” He asked slowly.

“Vin-“

“I invited you into my home, I let my mother take you under her wing. Hell, even my father loves you! And yet you still hold me at arm’s length.” He was scarily calm right now and it terrified me. Rick had moved over to Heather and pulled her away from what was sure to be a cat fight.

“This was all fake when it started Vinny. It was a show so you could get your mom off your back. I’m sorry if I am still having a hard time believing this is real.” I scoffed. He didn’t get a right to be mad at me for being scared.

“So the last two weeks meant nothing to you?” He had gotten closer to me and I could feel the fury rolling off of him.

“Oh, the last two weeks where you seem like you are walking on eggshells around me? Sure, you can call this a relationship but ever since we slept together on Christmas eve you’ve been acting weird around me.” I sighed. “Don’t forget this all started because he called me a whore and you believed him.” I jerked my hand at the guitarist.

“Fuck, I am so sick of you throwing that in his face! It was an idiot move and he apologized! Get over it.”

“You’re complaining about me not trusting you and yet you still defend him!” I laughed pathetically. I knew it was all too good to be true. “Fuck this. I take back what I said. I thought I loved you but you cant even be man enough to say it back and now this? I’m hurt. I get to be hurt. So if you want to choose his side then fine. I’m not going to deal with this shit anymore.”

“Rick, I’m going to go home. I need some air.” Vinny went back to his car and got in, quickly taking off without me and leaving me there with Heather and Rick. As I watched him drive away my eyes filled with tears and I barely felt myself collapse into a heap on the drive way. I had probably just ruined the best relationship of my life because of my stupidity and there was no way he was going to forgive me now. I laid there in a puddle of tears as strong arms reached down and pulled me into seated position, hugging me tightly. I glanced up to see Rick watching me with a sad smile and that made me cry even harder.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. “I- I forgive you. I’m just-“ I couldn’t even finish my words but I could tell he understood. I wasn’t even mad at him anymore so I didn’t know why I couldn’t just let the situation go and trust in him and Vinny. He lifted me into his arms and carried me inside to his couch. He set me down and I drifted off, only barely registering the blanket he pulled up over my shoulder.

~~~~

“Mom?” Vinny whispered. He was currently standing on her porch, having driven around for the better part of 4 hours before he landed there. Tears were streaming down his face and he angrily tried to wipe them away but as he did new ones just fell.

“Vincenzo, honey, what’s wrong?” Rosa asked, grabbing his arm and pulling him inside. “Its cold dear. Come in and I will make you hot chocolate.”

“I messed up.” He mumbled. “Nichole, shes- shes amazing and perfect and kind and sweet and I like her and I ruined it all.” He went over to the couch and collapsed onto it, taking a pillow and burying his face.

“I’m sure that isn’t true. Now stop trying to suffocate yourself, that won’t win her back.” His mom scolded him, setting the hot chocolate on the table. He dropped the pillow to his lap and sighed.

“She’s never going to forgive me! It was ruined before it even started and it’s all my fault!”

“How is it your fault exactly?” She sat in the chair across from him and waited for him to respond. He hated how patient and understanding she was because all he wanted was to hate himself right now and he wanted her to hate him too. He was a horrible son.

“Because I believed Rick. He opened his god damn mouth and I believed him and that was before I even met Nichole. He was lying about her so that I would hate her. But I don’t. I love her and-“ He froze at his words and let out a frustrated yell. “I fucking love her. I’m so fucking stupid. She told me she loved me and I didn’t have the balls to say it back and now she’s gone.” He shoved the pillow over his face again and actually tried suffocating himself this time.

“Richard is your best friend. I’m sure he told you what he did with good intentions.” The pillow dropped once more and he shook his head. He wished he could just disappear and all of this would just go away. He just wanted to hold Nichole in his arms right now and hug her and tell her everything was going to be ok but he messed that all up.

“No. He told me she had been flirting with him behind Heathers back so the first time I saw her I told her we didn’t want her kind around us and she needed to leave. I treated her like trash only to find out moments later that Rick had lied to me because he didn’t want me to be with her.”

“I’m sorry. I’m confused. How did you two end up together?”

“Because Ky said you were going to set me up with someone! I didn’t want a relationship at the time so I asked her to fake date me for a while to get you off my back.” He froze and his eyes went wide. He had not meant to say that and from the look on his mother’s face, she was not amused. The way she leaned back in her chair and raised a single eyebrow terrified him. He had only seen that expression a hand full of times before. Once when his sister had a pregnancy scare in high school, once when Kyle had broken Vinny’s arm when they were wrestling, and once when Vinny himself had decided to drop out of college to pursue a career with this small band that had very little hope of succeeding at the time. This look was one you never wanted to see on Mama Mauro. “I can explain.”

#motionless in white #vinny mauro #vinny mauro fanfic #make mama happy

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hearts4golbach · 2 months

Text

Get the Angles Right!

chapter 8.

pairing:

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

a/n:

wrote this while watching Johnnies stream. best hour of my life.

proofread

warnings:

none

word count:

1.2k

you sat in front of Johnnie, carefully reapplying the eyeliner in his waterline. you added a small eyeliner wing, and that was the makeup look for the zebra outfit. "Okay, hurry up. go get changed! i'm super excited to see this one after the last one." You urged.

he looked in the mirror at his makeup. the eyeliner wing was affecting you severely. he looked so good, it was almost unbearable. it made you want to kiss him even more than you already did. he went to go change immediately, leaving you alone with your thoughts. you thought about your feelings for Johnnie, which were intensifying by the day. you changed the backdrop to a basic white background.

he walked out in just the mesh shirt, the jacket hung off of his arm. his tattoos shown through the shirt, making your heart race as you looked at him. "What are you doing?" You laughed, "put the jacket on before i dress code you." Johnnie knew what he was doing.

he did as told. "Yes, ma'am." he knew the drill. he walked over and stood in the middle of the set and waited for you to walk over. you could feel his eyes on you as you quickly tidied up the vanity.

you walked back over to the camera. you looked through the camera to see what Johnnie looked like. "Do you mind if I adjust your hair a bit?" you asked, glancing at him over the camera.

"Yeah, I don't care." he seemed hesitant, like he was nervous to feel your touch.

you approached him in a cautious manner, like you'd scare him away if you got too close too fast. you gently brushed the stray hairs to match the swoop. your fingers grazed his soft skin as he stared at you. his eyes glanced from your lips back to your own. you micromanaged other parts of his hair, trying to avoid walking away for as long as you could. the tension was suffocating. you fought the urge to lean in, seeing as he seemed to be doing the same.

you finally let out a small sigh. "Okay," you flashed him an awkward smile before walking back to the camera.

you went through the same process. you could tell Johnnie was becoming more confident with each photo. the more confident he got, the more attractive he became. part of you wanted to say fuck the photo shoot and make a move on Johnnie, but this was your business. you felt as if Johnnie was one of your last chances, and you weren't going to miss it.

it was the same routine once more. you did his makeup to match the next outfit. you wiped off the wing, touched up his waterline, and smudged some black eyeshadow under his eye. you wanted to incorporate the brown of the shirt, but you couldn't come up with anything.

he went and changed into the brown splotchy shirt and leather pants. he left the shirt completely unbuttoned. "how far up do you want it buttoned?"

you choked on your spit as you saw his bare chest peeking through the shirt. you looked away immediately as you felt your face heat up. "just, like, half way." you muttered, trying to find somewhere else to look but him. he let out a small laugh and did as you told him to.

he walked over to the white backdrop and waited for you. "how the fuck did you make leather pants comfortable?"

you adjusted the camera and laughed at his question. "i don't know, i usually use pretty stretchy material for all of my shit. i also added a softer material on the inside."

"i love them." he mentioned, feeling the pants before looking back at the camera.

"you can keep whatever you like, i made it for you." you offered as you fixed the lighting to match the outfit. "mkay, pose for me babe." the nickname slipped out of your mouth. you chose to not acknowledge what you said and move on with the shoot.

the nickname seemed to boost his confidence through the roof. the photos you got of the outfit was impeccable.

"you know what i realized?" you mumbled as you continued to snap photos. "i have none of your socials, and i want to tag you if i post these." you pulled away from the camera and walked towards him.

he held a defeated look on his face. "yeah, here." he grabbed his phone and read you his username.

clicking on his profile sent you into shock. "you never told me you were literally famous!" you laughed. "fucking verified and everything."

he choked on his words as he looked at you. "yeah, i'm sorry."

"what? don't be sorry, it just caught me off guard." you shyed away. "i'm kind of nervous now." you laughed.

he giggled. "why are you nervous?"

"i don't even know." you shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "okay, let's get back to the shoot."

you tweaked his waterline eyeliner for the millionth time, wiped off the black eyeshadow, and added red eyeshadow to his under eye. as you sat in front of him, his hand slowly moved from his knee to yours. your stomach flipped as his thumb gently rubbed your knee.

you swallowed hard. your mouth felt dry as you tried to stay focused on his makeup. that small gesture he made was your signal. although you were still nervous to make a move yourself, you also knew he'd be leaving New York city and you'd never see him again. your heart ached at the thought.

"o-okay." you stuttered, holding a small smile on your face. Johnnies gaze on you made you nervous.

his smile seemed brighter than before. "fuck, this is the last outfit." he complained.

"i know!" you exclaimed, matching his newfound energy. "we could probably do one more shoot before you leave, if you wanted."

"of fucking course, i don't think i've had this much fun in a while. and the fits you make are fucking sick." he took the last outfit off the rack and walked back into the changing room.

you let out a deep sigh, you felt like you had been holding your breath that whole time. you changed the backdrop to a dark grey, you were happy, the shoot was going just as you had imagined, if not better. you took a few deep breaths, trying to ground yourself before Johnnie came out of the changing room.

in the changing room, Johnnie was doing the same. he walked out in the final outfit. "holy shit," you muttered under your breath.

it was the same process over again. you held back everything you wanted to say to Johnnie as you took the photos. you smiled to yourself, seeing as Johnnie seemed more confident than ever.

after you had taken the last picture, you looked at him with a goofy smile on your face. "we're done! i can't wait to edit these photos." you walked over and hugged him gently. "thank you for doing this."

he reciprocated the hug. he asked you not to thank him as he gently rubbed your lower back. goosebumps covered your body as he spoke. "i wanted to do this," he looked down at you with a sweet grin.

#fanfiction #fanfic #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #jake webber #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #hearts4golbach #tara yummy #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie and jake #johnnie x reader #johnnie x you

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tedwardremus · 3 months

Text

Padfoot in Privet Drive

Chapter 5: Grimmauld Place

When they barged into the house, Sirius threw the pale and mumbling Dudley onto the couch and immediately called Remus “Get here now,” he said urgently into the mirror. With a pop, Lupin appeared in the Dursleys’ living room, startling Aunt Petunia, who let out a shriek. “What’s going on?” Lupin asked, looking between Sirius and Harry. “Dementors in Little Whinging,” Sirius explained quickly. “Harry cast a Patronus to get them off Dudley.” “He did something to our boy!” Uncle Vernon roared, his face a shade of purple. Aunt Petunia crouched by Dudley and smothered him with worried hands, looking him over for any injuries. “I want him out of the house!” Lupin glanced at Dudley, who was still pale and trembling, before turning back to Sirius and Harry. “Harry, are you okay?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. Harry nodded, though he still felt a little shaken. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... What were they doing here? They are supposed to be at Azkaban - the dementors.” Sirius placed a reassuring hand on Harry’s shoulder. “We’ll sort this out. But we need to get you somewhere safe first.”

This is the last official chapter! Epilogue will be posted Friday!

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #sirius black #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #good godfather sirius black

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lilspidermonkey · 2 years

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Bakugou x reader Touch Chapter V

Chapter V is finally here, took me a bit to figure it out, but hipe you guys like how it turned out and the progress!

Spelling and grammer apologies, as always.

Hope you guys enjoy, let me know what you think!

Feeling the slow wakening of consciousness, Bakugou groaned, cracking his eyes open. His face was squished into your chest, your arms trapping him in an embrace around his head as yours laid on top of his. Your legs were also wrapped around his torso, you were almost like a backpack he’d put on backwards. You mumbled in your sleep, cuddling Bakugou deeper into your chest. The boy turned pink from the squish, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find the steady beat of your heart relaxing. He was torn between tearing himself away from you, or just casually falling back asleep. Glancing over at the alarm clock, that was magically facing his way, the boy sighed. It was time to get up. The boy attempted to tear himself out of your hold, but he just couldn’t get your arms to untangle themselves from around his neck. He rolled you over onto your back, looking down at you as you continued to lock your arms around his neck. Bakugou stared down at your sleeping form, almost in a trance. But snapping out of it, he soon started to shake you, “Hey, common now, get up, Cry Baby. You groaned and glared up at him through the cracks of your eyelids, “I hate you.” You said. Bakugou smirked down at you through half-lidded eyes, “Nah, you don’t.” he said. Blinking, your eyes widened, a small blush dusting over your nose, “What makes you so sure?” you asked, turning your face away. Bakugou tilted his head, “Cause if you did, you would’ve left last night.” He said. You looked back to him, pouting, “Shut up..” you mumbled. The boy just kept looking at you, with his stupid-cute-stupid face, and those stupid-serious-stupid-gorgeous red eyes. One of the things you always liked about Bakugou, ever since you first met him, was his eyes. There was something about them that just completely captured you, his emotions were always so much clearer through his eyes. It confused you, you used to compare his eyes to Kirishima’s eyes, considering they’re the same colour, colour was their only similarity. Bakugou leaned in closer, “What’re you looking at?” he asked. You blinked, captivated, “You’re eyes.” You said. The boy’s eyes widened at hearing this, but he settled back into his smirk, “Interesting.” He said. Pouting, you tilted your head now, “What about you, what’re you looking at?” you asked, teasingly. Bakugou kept his stare, “You.” He grinned mischievously. “Under me.” Your face broke out into a flustered red. Bakugou lifted his head up and laughed, you pulled your hands back finally, to push him. As you got up to stretch, you turned to the boy, your arms stretching behind your neck, “So, what’s the plan for today?” you asked. “You said you were taking me somewhere?” you asked. Bakugou stared up at you, his eyes darting over you for a few seconds occasionally, “There’s a food festival tonight.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Thought you’d like something like that.” You practically skipped over to him, excitement in your eyes, “Yes!” you yelled. Bakugou smiled at you, “Guess I chose right then.” He said. You blinked, realizing your exaggerated response. Stepping back you started fiddling with your hair, pretending to fix it and set it up. Going over to the mirror, fiddling with your hair turned to fiddling with your hands, “If that’s later tonight, what’re we doing in the meantime?” you asked. Glancing back at him in the reflection you noticed him leaning back on the bed, resting on his arms, head tilted back slightly and to the side, “You’ll see. You’ll like it.” He said. You blinked, looking a little closer, his eyes were looking low, and his cheeks were tinted pink with a dust of blush. You turned around the face him, “What’re you looking at?” you asked. Bakugou cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, “You…” he muttered. You titled your head, “It was cute the first time, but now I’m confused.” You said, hands on your hips. Bakugou side-eyed you, “You thought it was cute?” he asked. You pouted, “Don’t answer a question with a question.” You said. Bakugou looked away again, his blush worsening, “I already told you.” He said. You sighed, and shrugged, but as you turned to look into the mirror again, your eyes widened. You looked to him with a deep blush, “W-were you staring at me, because I’m wearing this!?” you asked. Bakugou didn’t move, but the increase in his blush was confirmation enough.

Going downstairs, you and Bakugou walked into the lounge room. Looking over, Sero and Kirishima nearly began crying while they laughed, “W-what happened to your face, Bakugou?” they eventually managed to stammer between their giggling. Bakugou glared ferociously at them, a red handprint decorating his cheek, “Shut your traps.” He grumbled. You huffed, “Nothing you didn’t deserve.” You mumbled. Bakugou continued to grumble and mumble angrily to himself. Kirishima came over, “I’m assuming things are better?” he asked. Momo came over as well, “Yes, we heard there was a little bit of…an argument.” She said with worry. Uraraka put her hand on your shoulder, “You guys are okay, right?” she asked. You smiled and nodded, “Things are fine, someone just couldn’t keep themselves from exploding over something dumb.” You smirked at the boy. “But I got him to chill out eventually.” Bakugou huffed, crossing his arms, “Cry Baby.” He mumbled. You kicked him lightly in the shin, “Common, we should get going.” You said. Mina popped up with a grin, “Oh? You guys going out?” she asked. You nodded, “Yep, not sure where for the first few hours, but Bakugou’s taking me out to a food festival later.” You said with a smile. “I’m really excited about it!” Kaminari smiled, “Hey, that sounds like fun!” he said. He winked at Bakugou, “Good choice.” Mina leaned on Bakugou’s shoulder, “I’m so proud.” She said, wiping away at a fake tear. Kirishima and Sero had tissues that came out of nowhere, sniffling into them, “He’s growing up so fast.” They said. Bakugou growled, “Shut up!!” he yelled. But you could tell that there was no real anger behind his words. You laughed, “We gotta go, see you guys later.” You said with a wave, Bakugou dragging you away to the door. Mina waved after you, “Take your time! Don’t come back early! Have fun!” she called with the others.

On the train, you leaned against a bar, looking up at Bakugou who was standing over you, one hand on the bar and the other on his phone. “Are you going to spit out where we’re going?” you asked. Bakugou kept his eyes on his phone screen, “You’ll see.” He said. You pouted, “You are so annoying.” You mumbled. Bakugou lowered his phone to grin at you, “And yet, here we are.” He teased. You chuckled, shoving the boy, “Whatever, as if I could say no when you dug so deep past your pride to ask me to come with you today.” You teased back. Bakugou glared, “Shut your face.” He said. You scrunched up your nose at him, “You make teasing you too easy.” You said. Bakugou cupped your chin with his hand, his fingers squishing your cheeks together, “Says you.” He said. You continued to laugh together, talking about the food festival and your poor stomachs full to bursting later when you’d eat all that food. Arriving to a place in the city, Bakugou pulled you into a building. Your eyes widened, eyebrows raised, “Seriously?” you asked, smiling. Bakugou grinned, “Excited?” he asked. You nodded and practically ran in, dragging him behind you. He had taken you to go rock climbing! You were practically jumping and glowing with joy as you were both set up with the necessary equipment and instructions. It didn’t take long for the both of you to get the hang of the climbing, and it took even less time before the two of you started to compete against each other. You squealed as Bakugou climbed ahead of you, giving you a nudge with his foot. You grinned at him, “That’s cheating!” you laughed. Bakugou raced on, “Not cheating if there wasn’t any competition, to begin with.” He grinned. You grinned and set your eyes, “You are so dead.” You said. Soon you quickly managed to get up to Bakugou. Mischief flirting with you, you leaned into Bakugou, “Are you going to end up staring at me in nothing but your shirt and my underwear again later?” you whispered into his ear. Bakugou flushed, and in that moment, lost his footing, dropping a little before catching himself. He glared up at you with a flushed face, but you just zoomed on ahead and reached the top. Looking down at the boy who was glaring and pink in the face, you just smiled and giggled. He soon smiled up at you, “What was that about cheating?” he asked. You shrugged, “Don’t start something if you don’t plan to finish it.” You said blowing the boy a kiss. Bakugou grinned and started shooting up for you. Squealing, you tried to escape, dropping down to the ground, but as you were trying to get free of your harness, Bakugou dropped down beside you and caught you, “Gotcha!” he said, wrapping his arms around you. You squealed, laughing, and faked fighting against him. Getting cleaned up and returning your items, your eyes spotted something. When Bakugou caught up to you, he could swear he saw your eyes sparkling, “What’d you spot now?” he asked. You grinned at him and started dragging him. Looking up to where you were dragging him, the boy grinned, “Fuck yeah.” He said. Next door to the rock climbing, there was paintball. It was weirdly themed, it was designed to be like a farm, there was hay everywhere on the ground, along with a few haystacks. There were props of things that would normally also be on a farm, tractors, large tires, and the likes. Both you and Bakugou were put into white jumpsuits and goggles and were given a big bag each that was filled with balloons filled with paint. Bakugou grinned, “Was half expecting to get guns, that way I could finally shoot you.” He said. You laughed, “I’d totally be a sharpshooter, you’ll never escape my shot.” You said, pointing your finger, hand shaped as gun, at him. Separating, a buzzer went off and you both started to play, the two of you laughing and running around as paint went flying everywhere. You screamed, Bakugou out for vengeance as you got a face shot at him. Running, Bakugou caught hold of you, making you scream as he tackled you into a haystack. You were both laughing, sliding off your goggles. You smiled up at him, as he just grinned down at you. Sighing, you raised your hand to wipe away some paint on his cheek, his eyes softening as he continued to watch you with a smile. You blushed, leaning up on your free arm, planting a kiss on his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth. Pulling back you smiled at his shocked face, then slammed a paint balloon on his head. Bakugou gaped, and then grinned. You got up and started running away as he unleashed a flurry of balloons back at you, and you him.

Afterwards you were so glad that they had showered that you were free to use and had soap that easily removed the paint. You both held hands, laughing down the street and making fun of the other as you left. Soon it was time for the food festival, you were so excited. Both of you got a bunch of food, and went to a secreted spot, where the two of you could sit and share the food, along with enjoying the scenery. Bakugou laughed as you chomped down something you were enjoying, “Take it easy, no ones going to take it from you.” He laughed. You smiled through your full mouth, “It’s so yummy!” you said after swallowing. Bakugou grinned, “You’re such an idiot.” He laughed. You scrunched your nose at him with a playful pout, then grinned. The two of you continued to eat everything, after eating some cake the two of you had previously bought, you smiled and put your hand to your cheek, “So good!” you called. The boy grinned ear-to-ear, “That good?” he asked. You hummed, “I dare say better than your cooking.” His smile dropped completely, making you laugh. “I’m joking! Haven’t had anything as good as your cooking, yet.” Bakugou looked over your face, reaching over, he pulled crumbs away from the corner of your mouth. You blinked in surprise, and almost flushed pink as he licked the crumbs. The boy smiled, “Yet?” he repeated. You looked down in embarrassment, why did he have to look so stupidly attractive? You then felt his fingers again, he was pushing hair behind your ear, “Going pretty pink there, huh?” he said. You blushed more, shoving him playfully, “I’m cold!” you defended. Bakugou laughed, but looped his arm around your waist, his hand slipping under your thigh. Before you could even register what, he was doing, he lifted you for a spilt second, shuffling you closer to him. You flushed pink looking up at him, “What’re you doing?” you asked, suddenly shy at how close your faces were. Bakugou half smirked, “You said you were cold.” He said. Shuffling slightly, you felt his hand still under your thigh. You looked down to avoid his red eyes, and turned to look over the festivities, it was nothing but happiness in the air. Kids were laughing, happy chatter, friends, and families talking amongst themselves and laughing. It was all such a happy glow. You smiled; you loved it here. Bakugou watched you, rubbing his thumb across your cheekbone with a feather-soft touch. You looked to him, his red eyes meeting yours, he tilted his head, “What’re you looking at?” he asked. You glanced back at the crowds, “It’s just so nice here, everyone is happy, and everything smells amazing, tastes amazing, it’s just so nice here.” You looked back up at him, your noses almost touching as you smiled at him. “Thank you for bringing me.”’ Bakugou's eyes darted between yours, “I’ll take you other places too.” He said. You smiled widely, “Promise?” you asked. Bakugou slid his hand to cup your jaw, bringing you closer to him, “Promise.” He said back. You hummed and shook your head, “You’re too slow.” You said. Bakugou grinned, finally leaning the rest of the way to kiss you. You smiled into the kiss, turning to fully face him, sliding your arms up, and resting them on his shoulders. The boy was surprisingly gentle at first, but his hands traveling to your hips, gripping at you, was telling you he was impatient, but holding back. Pulling back from each other, you grinned at the boy, earning you a smile back. You leaned back in, catching him in a kiss again, and from the smile on his lips, and the kissing back, you could tell he was more than happy to continue.

Going back to the dorms hand in hand, you were both laughing. Laughing together as you walked into the dorms, you were both spotted by your classmates. Sero whistled, “Looks like it was a lot of fun!” he commented. You smiled, “It really was, the food was so good!” you said. Bakugou leaned in from behind you, “Just the food?” he whispered. Trying to hold back your smile from growing, you bit your lip, lowering your head, “Shut up, idiot.” You said. Mina grinned ear to ear, “Looks like it was more than just good.” She teased. Feeling Bakugou go in for another whisper, you nudged him, “It was amazing, I definitely recommend it.” You said. Before anything more could be said, Bakugou pulled back on your waist, “We’re going now.” He said. You walked backwards with him, “We’ll talk to you guys later!” you called, as he practically dragged you away. Getting to the elevator, you pushed against Bakugou, “I’m going to bathe first, so let go for a bit.” You laughed, leaning up to land a kiss on his cheek. Bakugou smirked, rolling his neck and leaning to the side, he snaked his arm back around your waist, bringing you to his chest, “Don’t be long.” He said, bringing you in for another kiss. You smiled as you pulled away, “Sure thing, Attachment Issues.” You teased. Finally getting to the baths, you were sitting in the water, soaking, and smiling to yourself. Bringing your fingers to your lips, you couldn’t help but giggle, you felt so intensely happy. Your chest felt full, and fluttery, you hated it, but as you think it, you just smiled. But echoing in your head, you suddenly were reminded, ‘Bakugou won’t be able to go for long without being in your presence and skinship.’ Your smile faltered, but the more you thought about it, the more your worries seemed useless. Bakugou wasn’t the type to express his feelings with words, but definitely with actions. If the quirk accident was going to make him feel like this, something would’ve happened a lot sooner. You sighed, tiredness creeping up on you. Hoping out of the bath, you got yourself dressed and headed to Bakugou’s room. You kept trying to tell the butterflies in your gut and chest to piss off. Clearing your throat you knocked on the door, the door flying open and you being dragged in. Why did this feel like Deja Vu? You were pressed up against the now closed door, Bakugou caging you. Looking up you met his red eyes, “Impatient?” you asked. Bakugou snickered, “Whatever you say.” He said. You looked down with a smile, but Bakugou brought your chin up to look at him. He was now waiting for a response from you, and you couldn’t help yourself at all. Leaning up, you caught Bakugou’s lips. Pressing into the kiss, Bakugou leaned into you more, bringing a hand down to your hip. You sighed into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, playing with the hair at the back of his neck. Bakugou groaned lightly, leaning down to your neck. You sighed again, shivering a little. The boy smiled against your skin, “You good?” he asked. Leaning your head to the side, you caught his eye, making him raise his head. Bringing him closer to you, you leaned your head against his, “Yeah, I’m great.” You said, sighing against him. Bakugou brought you in for a hug, resting his chin on your head, “Tired?” he asked. You nodded against him, but then realized. Shooting your head up, you looked at him, “Wait, it’s not that I don’t-“ Bakugou cut you off with a flick to the forehead, “Calm down, Cry Baby.” He stared at you for a moment and then hugged you again. “You know what I’m like, let's go to bed for the night.” Taking you over to the bed, Bakugou scooped you in the bed, his arm under you as you were against his chest. He groaned and flicked you again, “Go to sleep.” He said. You snickered, putting your finger around to hook on his jaw, making him face you. Smiling at him, you kissed him, “Goodnight.” You said. Bakugou nodded, and kissed you back some more. The two of you kissing each other sweetly before eventually falling asleep.

-Chapter V Fin-

#Bakugou #katsuki bakugō #mha #bnha #my hero academia #Date #food festival #rock climbing #paint ball #kiss #x reader #Bakugou x reader #y/n #fluff #make out #i tried

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blackfairy312 · 4 months

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SONGS OF DISARRAY - CHAPTER 1

The Theater

BEFORE YOU READ: originally, this was a “just for fun” one-shot that Ronin🍷 wrote. I just edited it so i can use this as my way to tell the story of my FNAC 3 AU. Komi is a very complex OC of ours, so i have to be VERY CAREFUL when writing stories from her perspective. If there’s a reference that doesn’t make sense to new readers who don;t know anything about this OC, i will add () with a number inside by them and then explain the context at the end of the chapter. REMINDER THAT KOMI IS A MULTIVERSE OC AND SHE ISN’T HUMAN! THAT’S WHY THINGS ARE WRITTEN THE WAY THEY ARE! Keep this in mind when reading. Cause this AU does tie into our main project, VOID. and there is something BIG i am setting up in this chapter. So… hehe. - 🔥

—

Komi stares at the reflection of her own form in the mirror, as if she were evaluating herself, trying to make sure everything was still the way it was all supposed to be. Her last job had been… mentally draining, to put it simply. And the one before that was even worse. She’d met too many overwhelming people in the span of… what was it? Just fourteen or so years? Maybe it was longer than that by now. She’d lost count ages ago.

Actually, the previous jobs before those two(1) weren’t very kind, either. Komi cringes as she thinks back on some of them, her sharp teeth grinding in disgust. It isn’t even worth going into any more detail about them. And that itself just adds to the very clear issue that Komi is struggling to accept right now: She needs a vacation.

Or rather, Komi needs to take a job in a universe that isn’t filled with literal planet-eating gods. Somewhere a bit more… grounded in reality. At least the ‘reality’ that Komi is most comfortable with. Cartoonishly supernatural. Not comically.

That's what led her back… here.

Sigh.

Komi’s eyes flicker down as she turns on the sink and wets her hands. She allows herself to take in the sensation for a few moments, before she begins gently splashing some water in her face. She slowly looks back up at herself again, her dull eyes staring into herself. They remind her of black holes she had seen in person before. An empty void, colors swirling into nothingness. The embodiment of pure destruction. The memories(2) send a shiver down Komi’s spine and she blinks, using a bit of illusion magic(3) to make her eyes… softer. More approachable. More… alive.

Komi frowns at herself. She isn't sure how easy it’s going to be to ‘fake it’ this time around.

“...Whatever,” She mumbles under her breath and takes in a sharp sniff. As she turns away, she dries her hands with a brown paper cloth before crumbling it up and throwing it onto the ground. She steps out of a woman’s bathroom and rushes down the hall. No one notices Komi as she exits the restaurant. It’s like she wasn’t even there.

The place where she’s in is a little town called New Harmony. She’s been here before, twice already, during two different time periods. Right now, it's about… early 1961, Komi thinks. At least twenty years before the whole Afton story is going on. The main section of it, anyway.

Komi refers to this section of the Multiverse as the ‘Aftonverse,’ as a lot of the stories vaguely connected together in this web all lead to one core ‘source,’ or ‘center.’ The story of a man named William Afton, and the establishment which he had forever stained with innocent blood. The connected stories all shared one or multiple factors with what Komi calls ‘Afton’s Story.’ Maybe there’s a group of haunted animatronic mascots. Maybe there’s a pair of business partners involved. Maybe it’s all just someone’s dream. Komi’s personal research is a little bit messy on the exact descriptors for these little shards in the Multiverse. But the mascot thing is what Komi mainly associates this Aftonverse with.

Komi’s comfortable enough with this place to immediately settle down here. This is what her ‘comfortable’ reality is. In the few weeks of her building up a presence in this world, she decided it was time to start looking for a place to work. As she’s walking away from the restaurant and along the street, Komi looks up and begins to take in her surroundings. Perhaps there will be a flier taped up on a window or something… Oh.

Komi notices a flier fitting this description, and inspects it carefully. It seems like the paper’s only been out for a few hours. Fresh out from the printer, that is.

Curious, Komi leans in and reads the details written on the flier;

HELP WANTED!

THE RAT & CAT THEATER

We are a small theater located in New Harmony, Utah who wish to give children happiness through the art of entertainment!

WE ARE LOOKING FOR:

Programmers

Set Designers

Musicians

Servers

Janitors

Security Guards

CALL THIS NUMBER FOR MORE INFORMATION: XXX-XXX-XXXX

“Hmm…” Komi hums to herself as she grabs the flier and looks over it one more time. There's some extra information and an address at the very bottom. It strikes her curiosity enough for her to then fold it up and put it into her jacket pocket. Something to think about for the rest of her morning.

She returns home a little later in the afternoon, to a small apartment she got for herself. Using the story, “I’m new in town, and just quit my last job. I bought this place with what I had left,” she signed the lease in one day.

As she walks over to her refrigerator, the flier comes back into Komi's mind. It sounds like something that would definitely work out for her. Maybe applying for the musician job would be a good choice.

“It's been a while since I’ve touched an instrument…” Komi talks to herself as her eyes scan the fridge, “I haven't really done any of the things I actually enjoy doing in… a long time.”

The brunette frowns for a moment before grabbing a bottle of whiskey and stuffing it into her pocket. As she's walking towards the couch, she brings out the flier from earlier and grabs the rotary dial sitting on the coffee table. She takes a seat right on her couch while inputting the numbers, then holds the phone to her ear as she waits for whoever it is on the other line to pick up.

Ring… ring… ring…

Click!

“Hello?”

It was the voice of a man, probably in his 30s, who sounded just a bit… irritated to be getting an unknown call. Maybe he’s having a bad day.

“Is this the Rat & Cat Theater?” Komi presents herself with a soft, friendly voice. “I’m calling because I want to know if you are still looking to hire any musicians.”

On the other line, Komi can hear the man knocking something over and exclaiming, “Oh, shit!” There's some garbled noise coming out through the speaker, which makes Komi chuckle a little bit. How endearing.

The man then clears his throat and replies after a brief moment, “Ahah, yes! This is indeed the Rat & Cat Theater… We’re so glad you called!” His voice just oozes with insecurity. Komi doesn't even need to see his eyes to know that. The overconfidence in his tone is too good to be real.

The man continues to speak, “My name is Vincent Allard, I’m one of the co-founders, and the manager here! I'm… ahem, We’re very glad that you've called!”

Did he repeat himself? Oh, this is too good. Komi raises an eyebrow as the man goes on, stumbling over his words a little as he puts on this performance of a man who has his life together.

Mr. Allard asks Komi a few questions, and she takes a few drinks from her whiskey as the “interview” goes on. From what Komi gathers from the clues hidden in Mr. Allard’s words… They really need a musician right now. Specifically, a pianist. Someone to play a few songs during the main shows.

“You know what? How about you come by tomorrow afternoon,” Mr. Allard suggests, and then specifies, “Around 1:00 or 1:30, I mean.”

“Sure,” Komi replies as she tosses her now empty bottle onto her floor, “You need me to bring in anything specific?”

“Uh…” The man over the phone pauses, “...Just any form of identification, your social security… billing address, all that.”

“Alright,” Komi notes those things off, “Anything else, sir?”

Then there's a moment of awkward silence. Komi figures that it’s his turn to speak in the conversation, and so she waits for Mr. Allard to respond, but he doesn't. Komi then clears her throat to get the man’s attention, and he gasps. There's shuffling on the other side, and then Mr. Allard clears his throat.

“So when you show up tomorrow, just ask for me,” he finally speaks again, “Vincent Allard. You got it?”

“Yup. See you then.”

Click!

Komi puts her rotary phone back in its place and leans back onto her couch. Now she has somewhere to go tomorrow… That was exciting.

She spends the rest of the day gathering everything together, and picking out what to wear for the interview. Once she gets that task done, all that's left is…

“Sleep,” The brunette mutters as she stands in her bedroom, hovering over the mattress laying on the floor. After her past few jobs, Komi has been going out of her way to avoid going to sleep altogether. Her body doesn't need it,(4) but it's the best option to choose to pass the time. She could do something stupid and reckless, but she's really not too interested in doing anything destructive yet…(5)

“I'm just gonna watch TV…” Komi mumbles to herself as she turns her back on her mattress and exits the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. For the rest of the night, the woman sits in the living room and watches pointless television for the next few hours.

The sun comes up, and Komi glances over at the clock on the wall. It's 8:30 in the morning. She figures now’s a good time to get up, so she hits the shower and gets dressed. She doesn't have much time to fix her hair, so she just brushes it and grabs everything she needs before rushing out the door.

Komi chose to walk the whole way there. She doesn’t own a car and is legally forbidden from ever driving again. She’s got a doctor’s note.

It's around 1:15 when she actually makes it to the Rat & Cat Theater, perfect timing.

As Komi enters the building, the first thing that comes to her attention is the carpet. Different shades of purple with an interesting argyle pattern, and it feels funny when she presses her boots against it. The blue walls are an odd choice… Something about the colors of this place feel too strong for her.

A few kids rush past, giggling and playing some kind of game together. She walks around the interior of the theater, and comes across a small area where a bunch of adults are talking together and drinking coffee. Some of them have infants with them, and other children too young to run around on their own. Komi figures these must all be the parents. It’s cool that they had their own place to relax.

Komi doesn’t notice anyone who looks like they work here. She walks past the restrooms and turns down a corner. There, she sees a man in a rat mascot costume playing with a few kids, who are all super excited to be talking with him. He must work here. That was obvious, though.

“Okay, I’m gonna count down now…” The Rat announced as he turned his back to the kids and covered the eyes of his mask. As he started to count down, all of the children ran off in different directions, each of them giggling and shushing each other. Their voices fade away as they run to the other parts of the building.

The Rat stops counting for a moment before he turns back around with an energetic, “Ready or not, here I come!” He snickers to himself, and Komi takes this moment to approach him.

“Excuse me, mister Rat,” the brunette begins to say, “Do you have a moment? I just have a quick question to ask you.”

The Rat turns to Komi, and rubs the chin of his mask. The actor stays in-character the whole time as he responds, “Oh! Hello, ma’am!” He waves at her, “Sure, I can take a second to help you out. The kids could use a little extra time to hide, hehehe!”

What a charming guy! He must be pretty popular with the children.

Komi takes out the flier from the other day, and holds it up for the Rat to see, “Is Vincent Allard here? I called him yesterday for an interview. If you could just point me in the direction of where he is, I’d really appreciate it.”

The rat man sighs a little bit, breaking character for just a split second before he puts the performance back on, “Ah! The Puppeteer! His show isn’t until later today, so he’s working right now. You can find him in there,” The actor points towards the gray door with a sign that says STAFF ONLY! on the front in big, bold letters, easy for the kids to look up and read.

The brunette glances over at the door, and then nods, “Thank you, Mister Rat.” And then she makes her way towards it.

As she places her hand on the doorknob, the Rat calls back out to her, “Hey! Good luck, miss.” The words of encouragement make Komi smile. The actor then goes off to resume his game of hide-n-seek with the children.

Komi slowly opens the door and steps into the small room. She immediately notices the giant puppet laying on the table, his wooden eyes closed as if he were sleeping peacefully. He has a big blue bow tie around his neck, and a black shirt with white buttons on the front. He has blue circles on his cheeks, purple tears and a frown on his face. Komi is disturbed. It looks like something from a child’s nightmare. There’s something… wrong with it. But she can’t put her finger on why…

Curiously, the woman slowly reaches her hand towards the puppet and pokes it, as if she expects it to jump to life. It wouldn't be surprising to her if it did. Though, he doesn't move a muscle. Komi stays cautious, however. Just because it isn't showing any signs of life now, doesn't mean it isn't alive.

“Hey, don't touch Vinnie while he's sleeping!” A man’s voice calls out, causing Komi to swiftly turn around. There, she sees a man roughly the same height as her, wearing an outfit that matches the puppet’s own. Except, he has large blue overalls. This must be Vincent Allard, or the Puppeteer, as the Rat had called him.

The man stomps over to Komi and shoos her away from the puppet, a scowl on his face. He starts scolding her about… whatever, but she isn't entirely listening. The aura coming from the puppet is distracting her. Though, she ends up tearing her gaze away from the puppet, and back to the man throwing a fit.

“Who are you, anyway?!” The puppeteer asks, his hands on his hips as he tries to use whatever authority he thought he had over her, “You can't just walk in here! There's a sign on the wall that says ‘STAFF ONLY,’ if you didn't notice,” he huffs, “Just so you know, I happen to be in charge here, and I could have you—”

“Komi Tchaikovsky, I called the other day about this,” The woman interrupts him as politely as she can, then she takes out something from her blouse pocket. She carefully unfolds it and holds it up; it's the flier again.

The man leans in closer, blinking while his eyes adjust to inspect the words on the flier. He suddenly looks embarrassed, his expression beginning to soften as he pulls himself away, taking a small step back and chuckling awkwardly.

“Ahaha, that's right…” He scratches the back of his neck, “No no no, I remember now. Musician, right?” He asks her with a simper. Oh, he's an absolute loser.

Komi nods, keeping her tactful smile, “Yes, that's me. And you're… Mr. Allard?”

“Please, call me Vincent,” He smirks at her, “No formalities,” he motions towards his desk and pulls up a spare chair gently patting the back of it as he sits down on his own, “Come here! Take a seat.”

Komi sits down, and Vincent goes on with the application process. He explains how the theater works to the woman across from him, who listens despite being a little distracted by the ugly puppet sitting in the room, just on the table by the door. There's something off about it, and Komi can't tell exactly what it is… It's enough of an issue for her to be struggling to focus on Vincent's words.

From what she can pick up, it sounds like the theater is open five days of the week. The actors get together on the weekends to write the scripts and rehearse for each show. Since there are new shows every day, it's a lot of work for them to do in such a short amount of time. Each performance is at least thirty minutes long, however, which makes it a bit easier, maybe. The Rat and Cat have their own show, while Vincent puts on his own afterwards. As the musician, all Komi has to do is pick a few songs to play during these shows. That shouldn't be too hard — Komi can play a ton of songs from memory alone.

After filling out some paperwork, Vincent clears his throat and slowly transitions out of the professional demeanor he had managed to keep up during the whole interviewing process. He leans a hand against his desk and chuckles under his breath, his gaze never leaving Komi as she folds up her papers and puts them into her pocket.

“So…” The man speaks with a bit of a smug tone, apparently his attempt at being charming, “Why don't you tell me about yourself, Komi? Your hobbies, your dreams…”

Komi sighs as she hears Vincent’s words, and she assumes that maybe it's the man’s attempt at being friendly. But when she glances into his eyes, she sees something else.(6) The colors and patterns switching behind the man’s strong blue eyes resemble a few different emotions. Confidence and arrogance, a little bit of genuine excitement and… attraction. The patterns remind Komi of a stained glass window in an old church. Weak enough to shatter it completely by simply throwing a heavy brick through it.

This glimpse into Vincent’s mind gives Komi an idea of the kind of person that he is. Prideful, and fake. Definitely someone who will cause her a headache later. But… he hasn't done anything weird yet, so Komi continues to be polite.

In response to Vincent’s question, the brunette shakes her head and simply states, “I don't like talking about myself.”

Vincent seems a little shocked by her response. His smile falters for just a brief moment before he goes on, “Oh, come on… You’ve gotta tell me a little bit about yourself. We're gonna be working together, after all. I wanna know more about who I just hired.”

Komi’s lips press into a straight line for a moment. Oh, alright. Her next response comes naturally, a simple cryptic smile with a, “Guess you're just going to have to be patient with me, then. I’m a very private person.”

She then gives him an almost intimidating look for a split second, just to make sure that Vincent doesn't start pushing it. Conveying a message to someone using only facial expressions was something Komi had mastered at this point. Usually, if that message is a threat, it works.

And it does work for Komi in this situation, as the man just nods while his lips turn into a crooked smile.

“I respect that,” He responds and then begins to change the subject, “Well, I guess I should show you the stage now. Let me grab Vinnie first…”

He walks over to the table on the side of the room where that ugly wooden puppet is laying on. Komi had almost forgotten it was in the room with them. She feels uneasy again, tensing up as Vincent grabs the puppet almost tenderly, and slowly lifts it into a sitting position. The woman feels a little off as she watches this, but she doesn't have any noticeable reaction.

That is until Vincent makes the damn thing stand up, and her eyes go wide as she sees just how tall the beast is.

“Oh, wow,” Was all she could say. Vinnie was shorter than her, yes, but it was still unnerving that the freaky beast was around five-foot-three.

“I know, right?” Vincent says with a bit too much enthusiasm for Komi’s liking, “Isn't it impressive? I made him myself! Back when I was in college, we learned how to make props and stuff. He’s not the first puppet I’ve ever made, but he's the greatest.”

Komi nods politely, “That's nice.” Please don't make him stand so close to me.

She doesn't say anything else as she follows Vincent (and Vinnie) out of the room and down the hall. They approach another door with the ‘STAFF ONLY’ sign on it, however, there's also an additional sign that reads ‘Backstage.’ The trio slip past the door, and Komi is immediately hit with the smell of the place. It's got the scent of… fresh wood. A hint of leather. It's very hot back here, as well, Komi notes.

Vincent motions for her to keep following him as he makes his way over to a piano. It’s pretty small, and looks like it can easily be moved around by two people. Though, Komi would have no issue moving it around herself.

“Ta-da!” Vincent waves Vinnie’s arms in a jazz-hands gesture, “Here is where you'll be performing! Of course, the piano won't always be in this spot! Ahaha, isn't that right, Vinnie?”

The puppeteer turns to the puppet for his opinion, the huge monstrosity sitting comfortably in the puppeteer's arms. Then, the puppet’s wooden mouth begins to flop up and down, and Vincent gives the puppet a whiny, sour-sounding voice that's almost high and low at the same time, “Yeah… He’s right. Though, we’ll have to get help to move the piano around… so you can play it and stuff.”

He's freakishly good at that, and I don't like it, Komi thinks to herself as her eyes go wide, stunned by Vincent's ventriloquism skills. She's never come across a lot of people who specialize in that… It's just one of those things that still manages to surprise her, despite how long she's been around the Multiverse.

“That's so cool,” Komi compliments the puppeteer, “That… thing you did with your puppet.”

This makes Vincent grin, and he sounds giddy as he replies, “Y-You really think so?”

Komi glances at his eyes again, seeing the color of his ego spreading across the pattern she had seen before. She decides to continue to stay polite, then nods her head at him. Big mistake.

“Ahah, wow…” The man chuckles, “Usually people just call me weird or say it's creepy… I’m glad you like it!”

There's a brief moment of awkward silence again as the two stare at each other, waiting for someone else to say something. Then, there's a little “ahem” coming from the puppet, turning the pair's attention to him.

“So… are you just gonna keep talking to the pretty lady and pretend that I’m not here? That figures…” Vinnie sounds like he's pouting, “I'm not that ugly, am I? At least introduce me to her…” The puppet hangs his head down and sighs, and Vincent has an expression of embarrassment on his face as he tries to fix his mistake. Based on Vinnie’s tone, it sounds like this… isn’t the first time the puppeteer has avoided introducing him to people. What a strange thing to even consider. Vincent is acting like Vinnie is his own person. Is this part of the act? Does he always do this? Komi is curious now.

“Right! I haven't given you a proper introduction yet! Where are my manners?” Vincent laughs again, “Miss Komi, this is Vinnie. He's my partner.”

The brunette nods, “So I’ve seen…” It's just a lifeless puppet, right? I don't want to be rude if that's not the case… But I don't sense anything. Not really, anyway. I just… can’t take my mind off of it, but… something isn’t right.

“And Vinnie, this is Miss Komi,” The puppeteer says to the beast in his arms, “She’ll be working with us.” He holds Vinnie closer to Komi and makes the puppet hold out his hand, as if he wants her to shake it.

Komi takes a deep breath and takes the wooden hand, noticing how large it is compared to her own. She's also trying very, very hard not to look at Vinnie’s piercing yellow eyes… there's nothing behind them. They're fake, meaning that Vinnie isn't a living being or possessed in any way. At least, not that I’m aware of, Komi reminds herself.

“Great to be working with you, Vinnie,” The woman smiles as politely as she can, gently shaking the puppet’s hand before slowly retracting her own.

Vinnie nods, speaking with that permanent frown on his face, “Yes… you, too… I guess.” The puppet sounds almost sheepish as he backs away, with Vincent now cradling the thing in his arms.

“Ooooh,” The puppeteer’s blue eyes twinkle as he gives a sly grin, “I think Vinnie already has a crush on you~”

Komi’s stunned again, unsure of how to react to this statement. What is she even supposed to say in this situation? Seriously.

Her expression fades into a more neutral one as her smile gets a little smaller.

“...Does he, now?” She says flatly, unintentionally.

Thankfully, Vincent ignores this and makes Vinnie speak again, “Hey, don’t say weird things like that! She’s pretty and all, but… I just met her.”

Oh, wow, Komi thinks, Is he being serious about this?

“Does that intimidate you?” Vincent teases his own puppet, “Come on, Vinnie, she isn't scary!”

Fed up with whatever the hell this was, Komi subtly changes her expression to something much more… threatening. Nothing too dramatic, of course. She wants Vincent to take a hint and drop the act, not scream and run away.

This works, as the puppeteer immediately notices the change and gulps, awkwardly shuffling his feet as he tries to laugh it off.

“Ahaha… ahem, anyway…” He adjusts his sweater collar and motions towards the piano, “So, why don't you uh… play a song? Just to make sure everything is working out…”

Calm now, Komi’s expression softens and she then steps over and sits down on the bench. “Is this thing tuned?” She asks as she presses a few keys, wincing at the loud, squeaky sounds that they make.

“Oh, shit!” Vincent curses under his breath, “I told Richard to make sure everything was ready… Ugh, why doesn't anyone listen to me?”

Komi ignores Vincent’s frustrated muttering as she simply gets up and begins to fix the issue herself. The inside of the piano makes her nostalgic, and a familiar song comes back to her mind. She smiles softly as she recalls the lullaby, humming it to herself as she finishes tuning the piano.(7) As the puppeteer continues his not-so-quiet ranting, Komi sits back down on the bench and takes in a deep breath.

Her fingers move gracefully along the keys, and the sound of her playing brings the puppeteer back into reality as the music begins to fill the backstage. He stares at her in awe, and notices that Komi’s eyes are closed.

“That's…” Vincent begins to speak, but his voice cracks and he gets flustered for some reason, then clears his throat, “Ahem… That's incredible.”

Komi's fingers slowly stop moving, the song coming to a gentle pause as she turns to glance over at him. She takes in his red face, and notices how he's still cradling that monstrous puppet like it were a cat.

Aw. He's cute in a pathetic, gross kinda way, Komi frowns, He's like a wet dog. Damnit.

There's another awkward silence. This time, though, Komi speaks up just so she doesn't have to sit through the cringe for a third or fourth time, “Thanks, for the compliment.”

Vincent smiles proudly, “I think you're gonna fit in just fine here.”

Komi smiles back. It isn't out of politeness this time, but of amusement. She responds to him, almost cryptically, as she glances down at the piano keys.

“Yes… I think I will.”

—

References Explained:

“those two” (previous jobs) (1) = Marvel AU we have, and a Batman AU we have, both with our own versions of the characters.

“the memories” (2) = Rifts are basically black holes. think of this as foreshadowing.

“illusion magic” (3) = She learned how to perform this kind of simple magic from Loki (our version, see 1)

“her body doesn't NEED it” (sleep) (4) = Komi’s body does not require sleep, however, she has the ability to sleep and dream. All of her dreams are nightmares.

“She could do something stupid and reckless, but she's really not too interested in doing anything destructive yet…” (5) = Komi has undiagnosed mental illnesses (this is a joke note)

“She sees something else.” (6) = Komi can ‘read minds.’ Very exaggerated term for it. To break it down, she can see someone's current emotions by simply looking into their eyes. It's a gateway into the mind. A person’s emotions will take the form of different colors and patterns. Sometimes they're very easy to read, other times they're a bit difficult. Think of a kaleidoscope.

“She smiles softly as she recalls the lullaby,” (7) = The Clockwork Lullaby. You know… Lu Li La and all that stuff. Evillious. Not the first reference you will see.

#five nights at candy's #fnac au #songs of disarray fnac 3 #songs of disarray #puppeteer fnac #oc x canon #fnac 3 #fnac vinnie #self insert x canon #rat actor fnac 3 #cat actor fnac 3 #fanfiction #fanfiction for an au #multiverse stuff #fnac 3 vinnie #five nights at candy's 3 #vinnie five nights at candy's #the puppeteer vincent #the puppeteer fnac 3

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eashn · 2 years

Text

You’re an Idiot, Darling - Ch. 7

Rating: Explicit (18+ only) | Mando x Reader

series masterlist | AO3 Link

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: The Mandalorian needed you to fix the Crest, but then, he went and got stabbed. Now, he needs you to fix him up, too.

WARNINGS for this chapter: descriptions of wounds/scarring, swearing, nakedness, a bit of spice, but mostly just fluff.

A/N - a big thank you to everyone that has read to this point in this series. This is something i’ve had in the works for a while, so I’m really really really thrilled that I’ve finally gotten to share it with you all <3

Din didn’t understand it: the tender way you’d wrapped yourself around him that morning, mumbling a good morning into his neck as the sun peeked over the roofless hangar.

Then, he didn’t understand the carelessness with which you finally rose—completely naked below the waist as you stretched your sore limbs, snapping at him to get the fuck off my floor, you dirty man, and take a shower. Pantsless, you’d shoved him all the way to your refresher and promptly left him unattended, mumbling something about breakfast. Half-hard, he’d half-hoped you were going to climb in with him.

Then, he realized you’d left so he could remove his helmet.

And that, right there, was probably the hardest thing for him to understand: your wordless recognition of the weight of his Creed and his principles. The fact that—while he remained bewildered—you understood him. You cared about him back.

What if you throw everything away for me, and then realize that you shouldn’t have? Your words reverberated in his mind as he stood beneath the hot shower. Stars, you had gotten it so, irrevocably wrong. Because no matter what you believed, he knew he was the unworthy one. He was utterly undeserving of something soft and beautiful like you. As the scalding water poured over his aching muscles, he wondered what the hell he’d done to warrant any part of your clever, compassionate heart.

For somehow, after all this time, you had seen right through his armor. You had stared, unflinchingly, at his raw core. And rather than shrinking away from the jagged edges you saw, you’d simply snatched up the most vulnerable parts, clasped them in your deft hands.

You made the broken bits of him want to sing.

He switched the water off, beginning to dry his hair with a cloth and reaching for where he’d left his helmet on the floor. But then, he paused. On impulse, he turned to the foggy mirror above your sink. And looking at his reflection in the eyes, Din Djarin made a promise to himself.

As difficult as it was, he wasn’t going to wallow in his self-doubt anymore—he was going to give you the openness that you’d earned. Because at the end of the day, look where hiding had gotten him. Lightyears apart from you, when he belonged in your arms. The next time he was in your arms, there was a thing or two Din wanted to do different. Undress you fully, for one: bed you like you deserved. But along with it, give you the everything he had promised you while your bodies and breaths were tangled together last night.

Din wanted to hear his name on your tongue. He really, really did.

Wrapping the cloth around his bare waist and sliding his helmet over his head, he walked out the door into your open hangar.

“You won’t believe it,” you called as he approached, but then, you did a double take because was wearing nothing but a towel and his helmet as he prowled over to you. Your thoughts sort of vanished, and your mouth was watering a little at the sight of his golden-brown skin in the morning light.

“Believe what?” he asked.

“Uh.” You coughed. “Right. Um. Well, I think in our haste to get away from Mr. Rodian and company, I dropped my rucksack of parts on some roof somewhere.” You looked guiltily at him. “I’ve taken a look at the Crest, and…we might have a problem, Mando.”

You watched his shoulders sag as he realized. “You don’t have the parts to fix her,” he said. You shook your head.

“But I can go back to the junkyard,” you assured. “There’s more than enough stuff lying around there that I could—”

“No,” he said suddenly. You started.

“No?” you repeated. “But Mando, I can’t do anything unless I’ve got the scraps to…” Mando, however, seemed to not be listening. All at once, he’d brought a hand to brace against his helmet, cradling it, as if he were massaging his temples. Frustratedly, he shook his head.

“What?” you demanded, going tense. “What’s going on?”

His visor dipped apologetically as he looked at you.

“If their leader tracked us all the way to your hangar, then…this might not be over, cyare. They know who you are now. They know where to find you.”

The revelation hit you like a ton of bricks.

“They’ll keep coming,” you breathed. Mando gave a heavy sigh, nodding.

You looked at him, then. He was quite a sight like this: half-naked, the towel draped low across his waist. Standing shamelessly in the open space of your hanger with his hands resting on his hips. The morning light streamed in through the roofless walls, catching on the surface of his helmet and casting it in gold. His skin glowed beneath the warm light, and you couldn’t help but recall how he’d looked in yesterday’s sunset—sauntering toward you from across the junkyard.

Yesterday felt like eons ago.

“There’s always something, huh,” you said, approaching him. For it seemed like there was always something in the way—another obstacle to keep you from a moment of peace and quiet to yourselves.

“Always,” he muttered. “This…is not how I wanted this morning to go.”

“Yeah?” Your voice dropped a register with the word. You took another step toward him. “What did you have in mind?”

Mando watched you silently. And then, he replied with a forward step of his own, and you both met in the middle. He glanced down.

“Hm, can’t now,” he murmured. “You put your pants back on.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, smirking up at him. “So, what’s our plan then?” you asked, turning back to the Razor Crest.

You hadn’t noticed in the dark that smoke was rising from her engines—nor the fact that her hull sported a brand-new scar from a laser blast. That’s two scars between the two of them, you thought, gazing at Mando’s torso from the corner of your eye as he approached. The flesh was swollen and raised where you’d closed it up with the cauterizer: just a fresh mark in the tapestry already carved into his skin.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “But I don’t think you should stay here.”

“What—but, Mando, this is my home. Where else do I have to go?”

“Well, you could always…stay with us,” he said quietly.

You turned to him.

“With you?” you whispered. “On the Crest?”

“Only for a while,” he said. “Till things blow over. We can land somewhere safe—somewhere you can find what you need to make the repairs. And we’ll wait it out there.”

For a moment, you were quiet.

It was…a lot. Last night in itself had you reeling—questioning the things you’d made yourself believe for months on end. Mando wanted you. Mando cared about you, too. Then, Mando almost died, and then, you were in his arms, and then, this, and then, that, and then…

After all this time, you’d realized: you and him were similar in more ways than you’d thought. You were both tired, persistent people—doggedly racing through the grim paths life had laid in front of you. Neither of you really got the chance to pause, or think, or breathe much; you had to keep moving. Keep running. Keep fighting. Which essentially meant you were both exceptionally good at keeping your feelings at bay.

But now, you had finally stopped hiding from each other.

So, what was left to be scared of? What was stopping you from embarking on another journey—another reckless adventure—with him and his little green kid?

“Do you have a place in mind?” he asked. “Somewhere Outer Rim would be the safest bet.”

Outer Rim, you thought, racking your brain. Somewhere close enough that the ship could make it there in this state. And somewhere the Guild wouldn’t find us—where we’d be lost in the crowd. Suddenly, it hit you.

“Tatooine.”

He hummed. “That’s perfect. There are enough bounties to catch in that skughole already—no one would be looking for us.”

You nodded in agreement. “And I know a great mechanic out there.” You smiled at the thought of your old friend: the brilliant, feisty old woman who’d taught you so much of what you knew. “She’ll have the parts we need to fix the Crest.”

“I’ll let you gather your belongings,” Mando said. “But, wait—before you go.”

He reached out grabbing your arm. His fingers looped all the way around your bicep as he asked, “Where’s my armor? And the rest of my clothes?”

Oh, you smirked internally.

You looked innocently up at him. But you figured he probably saw the malicious glint in your eyes. “No idea,” you lied.

“Cyar’ika,” he growled, fingers tightening around your arm. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

You reached for the towel at his waist. Gripping the edge of it, you tugged his hips closer to yours.

“Yeah, Mando,” you replied. And you grinned viciously up at him as you let the garment fall away. He was already at half-mast beneath your fingers. “I think you are.”

END.

again, a big, big THANK YOU FOR READING!!! The ending suggests that this might not be the last time we see these two idiots, huh? Maybe not.

Follow @eashn and stay tuned for more ~

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #mando smut #mando x reader #mando x you #din djarin #mando #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #mando x female reader #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars smut #pedro pascal

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wheels-of-despair · 10 months

Text

Enough | A Make Up Story | Tom Grant x You | Series Masterlist

Chapter 3: The Emptiest of Threats Words: 2k

You woke before Tom did the next morning.

Well, gave up on trying to sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw her. And the redhead. Tom tossed and turned most of the night, but his snores indicated that at least one of you got a little sleep.

You crept out of bed and to the tiny bathroom, trying to avoid catching your own bloodshot eyes in the mirror, then wandered into the kitchen. With a glance toward the sleeping stranger you'd just shared a bed with, you begin pulling out the necessary ingredients for a Virgin Mary. Jade had drank herself into many a stupor, and claimed this was the only cure.

After making sure you didn't sleep alone in your car, entertaining you with banter and making you dinner, easing Tom's self-inflicted suffering was surely the least you could do. Once the drink was mixed, you stuck it in the fridge and waited for him to wake up.

You sat at the kitchen table and stared blankly out the window. Maybe this was exactly what you needed: To see that Jade would never belong to you. No matter how much you loved her, or how desperate you were to make her love you back… she was still Jade. She would never be satisfied just… being. She always needed to try something new, or go somewhere she'd never been before, or be with someone different. She would always get bored with you after a week or two.

You could tell yourself these things all day long, but that didn't make them hurt any less.

And poor Tom. Been with his girl for three years, he'd said, and she was under Jade's spell in a week. You couldn't blame the girl; it had happened to you too. There was something mystical about Jade, and you didn't think you'd ever understand it.

A groan from the bedroom interrupts your miserable thoughts. You turn your head and fight back a smile when you see him clutching his head with both hands. Time to let the Virgin Mary do the Lord's work.

You shake two aspirin from the fresh bottle you'd bought just for her into your hand and fetch the cup from the tiny fridge, padding quietly toward him. You fight your instinct to sit on the edge of the bed; it's how you delivered Jade her morning mix.

"Here," you offer, leaning over to offer him the cup from a safe distance. He unscrunches one eye.

"Wha's that?"

"Aspirin and a Virgin Mary."

"Don't want it."

"It'll make you feel better."

"Don't wanna feel better."

"Well I want you to, and since I could totally take you right now, you better sit up and drink this damn thing before I make you."

To your surprise, he listens. It was the emptiest of threats. He sits up, holds out his hands, and accepts your offerings. He pops the pills in his mouth, chugs the drink, and finishes with a dramatic gag. If you weren't so emotionally drained, you'd probably laugh at him.

"Go get cleaned up, I'll make you breakfast."

He mumbles something - the only thing you can make out is the word "bossy" - but he does get up and stumble his way toward the bathroom.

It's nearly lunchtime, so you have a repeat of last night's late dinner waiting for him when he comes back out. A few wet curls cling to his forehead from where he'd splashed water on his face. He sits across from you, and you share a silent meal. When you finish, neither of you moves to get up.

"What will you do now?" he asks.

"Go home, I guess," you shrug. "What about you?"

He sighs and looks down at his hands. "Dunno. Don't really wanna quit my job to avoid her, but like… if I have to see them together every day, I'm gonna have to go drown myself."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" he asks, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"You know what." You mirror his position. A staring contest ensues, and he finally concedes by standing.

"You ready to go rescue your car?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon."

You grab your bag and walk to the door. He gestures to the grocery bag on the counter.

"Eat it, toss it, I don't care." Like you'd ever be able to eat any of her favorite things again. You step outside into the sunshine, ready to try leaving this place behind… again.

Tom follows you out the door. You walk side by side down the path toward the office, eyes constantly scanning around you, watching for them.

Miraculously, you make it to the office unnoticed, Tom grabs the keys, and you hop into the little truck without having to speak to anyone. The ride to your car is silent. You just want this to be over with. You'll probably even welcome the dazzling mediocrity of home after this ordeal.

"Can I help?" you ask when Tom stops behind your car.

"Nah, sit tight, I got it." He gets out and pulls a chain off the back of the truck, walks toward your car, and ducks out of sight. A minute later, he's back in the truck. He puts it in reverse and revs it, and although your little monster puts up a fight, it eventually gives in and pops back up out of the ditch and onto the road.

"Thank you," you tell Tom, genuinely grateful for everything he's done for you in the last 12 hours.

"Don't worry about it," he grins. He gets out to walk you to your car… where a dark trail of liquid leads from the front end to the piece of metal still in the ditch.

"Fuck me," you groan.

Tom blows his cheeks full of air and lets it out slowly. "Yeah, that's not good."

"You don't say," you deadpan.

"Calm down, I know a guy."

"A guy who works on weekends?" He scrunches his nose in a wince.

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, letting out a long and exasperated breath until you hear the squealing brakes of an approaching car.

"Hey, mate!" Tom calls to the slowing vehicle. You stand awkwardly next to your car while he talks to the driver - a bearded twenty-something - and force a tense smile when he looks over at you. The guy pulls away a minute later, and Tom returns to your side with a smile.

"That's Kyle. He works with me. He's gonna call the auto shop for us and find out if someone can come get it today. If he can't reach anybody, he'll ask Kai to come help."

Great. Asking for help from Kai, the glare-y one. You close your eyes, lean your head back, and extend your arms.

"The fuck are you doing?"

"Waiting for a lightning strike to finish me off," you explain. "Right here, God! Let's just get this over with!"

Tom chuckles. "Come on, you're alright." He lightly slaps your open palm to get your attention, and you look at him with cynical eyes. He tilts his head toward the other side of the road and begins walking across. With a sigh of defeat, you follow him, climb the small rise, and sit next to him in the grass.

"You don't have to stay with me," you tell him quietly, absentmindedly playing with a fray on your jeans. "I'm sure you have better things to do. I'll wait for the guy, get him to take me into town, ride out the rest of my vacation in the cheapest motel I can find. Hopefully the junk bucket gets glued back together before I'm expected back at work."

"What do you do?"

"On paper, I'm an office aide. Which is workplace jargon for 'we're too cheap to hire separate secretaries, so you get to take orders from everyone'."

"You like it?"

"Nope."

"Why do you do it if you don't like it?"

"Does anybody actually like their job?"

"I do," he shrugs. "I know it's not like… what most people dream of. But I like it. I like fixing things. Stuff where you can see results. Give people a home away from home. And the hours are nice. I can take off to go surfing sometimes."

You smile at the almost dazed look on his face.

"My parents think I'm mad," he continues. "Should've worked harder in school, gone to uni, become something respectable they can brag about. But I like it here. Been coming here since I was a kid. Used to pitch a fit when it was time to leave. Wanted to stay here forever. That's why I asked Ru…"

Tom's face hardens. After a moment of unbearable silence, you can't help yourself.

"I think it's nice to know what you want. I envy you for that."

"You never wanted anything?" He picks a blade of grass and twists it in his fingers.

"All I ever wanted was Jade." It comes out so quietly, you think the wind may have blown it away.

Tom heaves a sigh and looks at you. "We're fuckin' pathetic, aren't we?"

You burst out laughing at the same time.

You spent the next hour talking nonstop about everything and nothing as you waited for help to arrive.

Tom was a great guy. He was smart, and funny, and without him, you would've spent this time spiraling further into your pit of despair. The discussion flowed easily from one topic to the next, not another awkward silence in sight. You suspected he was trying to keep himself from thinking about a certain someone as well, but you were grateful for the conversation and the company nonetheless.

You were wiping away tears of laughter and holding your aching sides over a story about his very first surfing lesson when the tow truck puttered to a stop in front of you.

The guy - Doug, he'd grunted when you introduced yourself - had your car hooked up and ready to go in minutes. You pick your bag up and turn to Tom.

"Well, Tom… whenever I think of the worst day of my life, I'll always think of you."

He grins.

"Really, though. Thank you for everything. It was nice to not be alone through… this." You can feel yourself welling up at the thought of the crushing reality you'd soon have to face, and try to blink away the tears. Doug gets back in his truck and slams his door. "I should go." You look at Tom fondly, trying to burn his kind face into your memory. "Bye, Tom." He's really not gonna say anything? Okay, Tom. You take a step toward the truck.

"What if you didn't?" he says in a rush.

You stop in your tracks, then slowly turn back to face him.

"What if I didn't what?"

"Go."

"Kinda have to, Tom." He shakes his head.

"Don't waste your money on a shitty motel. They're still charging summer rates. Stay with me. No charge. I'll take you to get your car when it's ready."

"Tom, you've already done too much for me, I couldn't possibly ask you for more."

"You didn't ask, I offered."

You hesitate.

"Stay," he says. The look in his eyes - almost pleading? - stabs you in the heart like a dagger. Is this what you looked like when you were silently begging Jade to keep you?

"Are you sure?"

He nods.

And after a moment of stunned silence, so do you.

"Thanks, mate," Tom says to Doug. "Just call the office and ask for me, yeah?"

The gruff man in the truck acknowledges the dismissal with a grunt, and drives off with your hunk of junk.

You both stand in the road and watch the truck until it turns a corner and putters out of sight, then turn to face each other.

"Well…" you both begin at the same time, laughing instead of continuing your sentences.

"Back to hell we go?" you joke.

"Guess so," he smiles.

You close your eyes and stick out your arms again. "Okay, God! If you're gonna do it, please do it before I have to pay the mechanic's bill!"

Tom laughs, grabbing your bag and pushing you toward his work truck. "Move it, drama queen."

"You love it," you grin, climbing into the cab.

Tom neither confirms nor denies this as he starts the truck with a smirk and begins the process of turning around.

#writings of despair #tom grant is enough #tom grant #tom grant x you #tom grant x reader

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ashbrat488 · 5 months

Text

Candy - Chapter 18

Word Count: 843

Joe confronts Cassidy at school... Cassidy makes a new friend.

MINORS DNI

Cassidy emerged from her class at the end of the day, only to find Joe waiting for her. An exasperated groan escaped her lips as she pushed past him, footsteps echoing behind her.

"What do you want?" she asked, irritation lacing her voice.

"You've had time to calm down. Wondering if you're ready to talk now," Joe inquired.

She scoffed, shaking her head, and halted outside the building. Turning to face him, she responded, "Talk? Talk about what? You were dating another woman..."

"It was just sex. Isn't that what you tell me?" he retorted with a smirk.

Cassidy closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to regain her composure before responding. "Then why were you taking her to restaurants and on dates?"

Joe shrugged nonchalantly, maintaining his smirk. "You go on dates with your clients..."

"Clients being the keyword there, Joe. But don't worry, I'm not doing that anymore..."

"Really?" Joe's grin widened as he watched her abruptly turn and march away. He reached out and grabbed her arm, causing her to wince as he forced her to face him.

"Let me go..."

"Now we can truly be together, Cass. I love you."

She scoffed and laughed, trying to pull her arm free. "No, you don't." Stepping closer, she lowered her voice. "I've met someone who has made it worth my while to stop and only be with them. And that person isn't you, Joe..."

"You fucking..." His jaw clenched, anger boiling over as he raised his hand and slapped her cheek, sending her stumbling back.

"Hey!" Another man intervened, positioning himself between them, facing Cassidy. "Are you alright, miss?"

"I'm fine..." she mumbled as the man turned to confront Joe, who was already retreating. "Thanks."

"Can I give you a lift somewhere? Or walk you somewhere?"

She sighed and looked up at the man with kind brown eyes, shaking her head. "I'm okay. Really. Thank you."

"Cassidy, right?" He jogged to catch up with her as she continued to hurry away.

"That's right. Do I know you?"

He chuckled sheepishly, running a hand through his dark hair. "Sort of. We've been in a lot of the same classes for the last four years... Nate Franklin..."

"Oh god," she groaned, bringing her hand up to her head and then turning toward him once more. "I'm sorry. I don't really pay much attention."

"I noticed. You do your work and rush away."

"Yeah... sorry. I like to keep to myself... I swear I'm not trying to be rude or anything."

"Nah," he chuckled, falling into step beside her. "The mysteriousness adds to the allure of your attraction."

"That's cute," she chuckled, stopping him with a light touch of her hand, "but I'm seeing someone."

"Not that guy," he scoffed, gesturing to where Joe had disappeared.

"No," she laughed, shaking her head firmly. "Not him. Not anymore."

"Good. Well, it was nice to officially meet you, Cassidy. I guess I'll see you around?"

"I'm sure you will. Later, Nate." Cassidy couldn't help but replay her encounter with Joe in her mind as she headed home. The sting of the bruise on her cheek served as a painful reminder of the volatile past she was trying to escape. As she entered her apartment, she sighed heavily, examining the bruise in the bathroom mirror. She knew she had to conceal it before she met August the next morning; knowing his penchant for getting angry easily.

Cassidy started her day by opening the door to leave her apartment, but her path was unexpectedly obstructed by a vase of flowers resting on the floor, right in front of her doorstep. A sense of frustration welled up within her as she let out an internal groan. She bent down to retrieve the flowers, determined not to let them ruin her morning.

As she picked up the bouquet, she noticed a card tucked amidst the blossoms. Curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to investigate. Carefully removing the card from its envelope, she read the message within:

I won't give up so easily. -Joe

An exasperated huff escaped her lips, and she rolled her eyes in response to Joe's persistence. She gathered the card and the flowers, tossing the latter into the trash chute before exiting the building. Slamming the door behind her, she was resolute about moving on and leaving Joe's advances behind.

August sensed Cassidy's unease as she approached him and Simon at the zoo's entrance. Simon's joyful greeting momentarily lifted her spirits, but August could still tell that something was amiss.

Simon rushed toward Cassidy with a beaming grin, shouting, "Cassidy!"

Cassidy couldn't help but chuckle, crouching down to offer the young boy a warm hug. He eagerly embraced her, holding tightly to her hand as she straightened up to greet August. "Morning."

August's concern for Cassidy was palpable. He leaned in closer to her as they walked together, his voice low as he whispered in her ear, "Are you okay?"

She attempted to brush off his concern with a nonchalant shrug, accompanied by a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, really."

August didn't entirely buy her reassurance, but he decided to let it go for the moment. They continued into the zoo, Simon's excitement and curiosity serving as a welcome distraction for everyone.

Chapter 19 Candy

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axieta · 2 years

Text

Hungry eyes

Henry Winter x reader|

WARNING!: some of the event portrayed in this chapter might be triggering for some as they include a light side of physical violence

Chapter 2

| looking straight into the eye of a hurricane|

It was during one of those rare dinners at Francis’ aunts’ summer house. Julian was in attendance.

I remember the tension in the rooms being almost too heavy, too packed to stand. Everyone was running around, cleaning imaginary specs of dust from bookshelves, checking on the dinner cooking slowly on the stove, putting the last polish onto the silverware. Everyone was so preoccupied with this once-in-a-millennia affair that it seemed that nobody noticed me, sulking in the big leather armchair in the corner, half-drunk and chasing the drunkenness down with a glass of cognac. Or her, the wild-eyed girl desperately trying to push herself as far away from the tasks at hand as possible. There wasn’t an ounce of laziness or indolence in the way she hunched behind my armchair. Rather it was full of vigor of some negative anticipation and if I didn’t know any better I would read it as weariness. It was as if she dreaded the moment Julian would walk through the door and everyone would focus on him.

Up to this point I noticed a few times how she tensed up in his presence but I’ve had always written it down to her attentive listening or eagerness to focus. But on that evening, as she gripped the beige leather of my armchair, right next to my head, and as she quietly mumbled under her breath from time to time, mostly curses and exclaims of irritation at her classmates, something dawned on me. She detested Julian. It was so strange, so bizarre, so out of place in this house full of people who worshipped him, that when the realisation came to me I almost spat the rest of the cognac I had in my mouth back into my glass. Strange. It was the first time I’ve seen her so weary. So tense.

Anyways, Julian came, punctual as a clock, and the dinner started. I remember it through a heavy mist of alcohol and even though I wasn’t as hammered as I could get back then, I wasn’t participating in conversation or even listening to it. All of my attention has been consumed by her. Silent as well, sitting on the far end of the table and seemingly intentionally detached from the crowd. She kept her gaze low, pinned on the meal served. In that moment it seemed that for her, one thing far more interesting than the discussion at hand was her fork digging through the mountain of potatoes that was piling on her plate. She did not seem excited like the rest of the lot. Rather, more than anytime before, she looked… dim. There wasn’t any feverish spark in her eyes, nor the frantic glow of her reddened cheeks. She looked smaller, less lively. And I wondered why that would be.

Somewhere at the very end of the supper, when the shadows outside stretched impossibly long and the sky took in the color of a ripe bruise, I decided I couldn’t hold myself back any longer and needed to go relieve myself. It is hard on you, the liquors, especially if you have a tiny bladder like me.

I sneaked out to the bathroom.

The second I saw my own reflection in the bathroom mirror I knew I had to compose myself. Dark shadows under my eyes, red and broken capillaries in them that gave my whites the unhealthy color of pinkish-red. Oh and the hair! God I looked homeless.

I splashed my reddened face with some water and then proceeded to stare at it, for approximately fifteen more minutes.

I swear to god, the room was spinning, the floor was moving and the strange, grape-and-wine pattern pressed with gold onto the tiles on the walls was slyly slithering across them in smooth serpent waves.

In fact, everything around me was moving. Myself included. The more I looked in the mirror, the more my face became distorted, twisted. Like clay or wax that melts under a too high-temperature.

I couldn’t handle my face getting more and more blurry and then distorted when I tried to focus on the reflected imagine of myself so I left.

My initial plan was to go back and sit at the table silently as I did before but I didn’t even get the chance to reach my destination. In my drunk stupor the distance from the first flor bathroom to the dining room, even though in reality couldn’t be more than ten meters, appeared impossibly long at that moment. And the wooden panels of the corridor bordering those two rooms, greasy and shiny with floor polish didn’t help. Neither did the panels themselves, as with every step they seemed to slide from under my feet and rotate viciously backwards halting and regressing me in every step. Finally I managed to reach the desired door frame. A dark portal sheeted with thin, gold threads of light coming from the heath blazing idly right in front of me. Specs of dust danced on air as I moved closer and every each one of them swirled and spiraled with unique silverness to it. The hall behind me crept with some strange, hair rising darkness and so only the warm glow before me felt like the right direction to take.

I didn’t make it to the table. My legs were too wobbly, head to heavy. And so the big, leather armchair became by place of refuge. How comfortable it was! Soft leather caressed my feverish skin; big comfy cushions gave away underneath my weight and created and illusion of sitting on clouds, the shape of the headrest fitted perfectly under my soar neck. I closed my eyes delighted with the feeling of weightlessness and the slight spin of me head.

I must’ve dozed off, because when I opened my eyes again, all of them were leaving. The plates on the table empty and seemingly long-forgotten as the idle chatter of my classmates filled the room as they came closer and closer to where I have been resting.

A colorful pageant passed right before me. First came Julian, majestic and somehow authoritative in his usual stride with two personages on both of his sides - Henry, as dark as the night, wreathed in shadows with characteristically serious frown on his face, hanging onto Julian’s every word- and bunny, frilly swirl of beige and white, jumped around the teacher, clearly eager to give his two cents, light hair ruffled and shining like a halo around his reddened face.

Next were the twins. Their eternal, ghostly beauty accented by the dance of light and shadows from the fire place. Camilla was whispering something into Charles’ ear as he smiled mischievously. Their steps were light, almost inaudible on the old, creaking wooden panels. The grace enchanted into every step they took akin to the trained moves of ballet dancers.

Francis closed the procession, framing it beautifully with his tall, slim figure. His flamboyant posture towering over the twins. They all looked gorgeous, unreachable in their beauty. As I sat in my armchair, unnoticed by them, hidden in the shadows of the room, a quiet observer, I felt something tugging at my guts. An uncomfortable, ugly feeling. Jealousy.

I was alone, wanting, needing to be a part of this heart-stopping marvelous group. I desperately desired to be a part of it, to take part in the conversations, to hear what Camilla has been whispering to Charles and know what Henry’s been frowning about. I wanted to stand up, join them and feel like I belong.

The vile longing for belonging almost consumed me in that moment, almost enraged me to the point of violence, as I squeezed the armrests till my knuckles turned white.

But they passed me, didn’t even notice the lonely figure sitting in the corner, vailed by the darkness of the room. And I didn’t stand up.

All too soon the room became empty, the luminous heads disappeared in the darkness of the corridor.

I thought I was once again left alone to my devices, until I heard a loud shriek of a chair being dragged along the polished floor. And then steps, careful, almost lurking.

A figure stepped from the table and then onto the light casted by the blaze of the fire place. Her.

Even from so far away I could see those tightly squeezed eyes, glistening like two butts buried in ashes. The malevolent spark in them, together with the impish smile that curved her soft lips likened her to a goblin, proud of his mischievous prank. She looked so different from the angelic herd of her peers. Spooky.

I watched as her slender fingers dipped into the cleavage of her dress and pulled out a cigarette. I wasn’t quite as surprised by that actions as I was with her appearance, seeing as cigarettes were the only sure constant with her. She would smoke them on mass, sometimes even chain smoking.

Indoors, outdoors, library, park or a bar. It didn’t make much difference to her. When she wanted to light a ‘ciggy’ as she called them, she just did.

So it went as no surprise to me as she came closer to the heath and pushed the white roll into the flames.

Smoke went up and a sickening smell of burning tabaco reached me, prompting me to swallow down what I just had for dinner as it came up to my throat.

But she seemed content.

Softly humming some kind of a tune I couldn’t recognize, she leaned against the mantle and in steady, regular movements she slowly delighted herself with the cigarette.

It was like watching some kind of a ritual. The way she squinted her eyes with every inhale, and closed them with exhale. How she rose her hand, slim and almost rickety with how the shadows lay down in the valleys of its metacarpals. And how the said cigarette fitted superbly in her pursed mouth. Every and each detail of what she did with her hand, her lips, her eyes, it looked calculated, well trained, as if she was born with a cigarette in hand and those things came to her as naturally as breathing.

Such a simple task, and yet, performed by her, it was absolutely bewitching.

There was this Devine aura of delight surrounding her that presaged nothing good.

An agent of chaos that’s what she was. Lurking in the shadows with that impish smile, stretched out before the fire place as if she was the lady of the house.

She looked relaxed and yet there was some trace of tension in the way her body was posed. As if she was waiting for something, reading herself for an enticing turn of events I was not privy to. It seemed that in my slumber I must’ve missed out on some key mischief she concocted and now I would be observing the aftermath of it.

I felt provoked to stay. To watch as the rest of the evening turned out, even though my eyelids were growing heavier and heavier with every passing minute filled with cigarette some and that rich, deep voice of hers humming quietly, somewhere on the edge of my mind.

I watched as she threw the butt into the fire behind her and lit another snout.

And then he came in. Henry. All dark and evidently angry. I could see it in his face, and I swear to god I’ve never before, or after sen him this agitated. Like an angel of death he stepped into the room, floor creaking beneath his feet, the dark coat flapping around him like a set of wings. His hands were shaking with poorly concealed emotions.

‘You can’t smoke in here.’

His voice was raspy, almost as shaky as his hands, but it didn’t sound weak. On the contrary, it was powerful, coated with a strong undertone of authority.

‘Oh, don’t give me that.’

Was her response. Disinterested at best.

How strange. Up to this point I’ve always considered her to be the hotheaded one, and Henry the ice king, emotionless and calculated. But now, only after hearing a few words from each of them I was positively sure that in this clash she was the ice and he- fire.

Henry took a few steps and stopped, as if unsure if he could come any closer. She didn’t move an inch.

‘It seems to me that today of all days you chose to be exceptionally disagreeable.’

‘You blame me for that?’

‘I blame you for the way you conduct yourself.’

Her brow arched and I knew that if I was at the receiving end of the stare she threw him I would indubitably faint out of fear. But now it was his turn not to flinch.

Silence feel between them as they tasked each other with heavy glares. If looks could kill…

Henry was the first one to break the contact. Hurriedly he checked if anyone was coming their way, maybe he heard footsteps, and with a swift, agile motion he turned around and shut the door. I could see his face in that moment, as now it was en face to me. He looked scary. Like he was ready for murder. Anger and determination swirled across his sharp features. And it showed in the force with which he pushed the doors. The frame rattled, but he didn’t even noticed as he quickly left his station and in heavy, long strides devoured the distance between them. As he moved, surprisingly quick, a gust of wind swirled across the room. His figure crashed with hers and I heard air being knocked out of her chest as her back met the mantle.

Now he was as close to her as possible. His silhouette obscured the flames, as if his coat could consume any light casted near it. In the now dim room I could barely make out who was who. All I could see were two pale foreheads touching each other, no, pushing at each other, fighting in some strange struggle for dominance, hair mingling above them, tangled together.

Henry’s hands were now gripping her forearms, forcing her to stand upright, to face him. He pushed her back into the mantle and I could hear the seam of her dress sizzling on the hot coals. The impact knocked out the cigarette from her hand. It fell to the ground and in one miserable hiss, it went out.

I had read about fits of passion like that in books before. It almost usually had an romantic undertone to it. A hero of the story looses control over himself because of something the heroin did, and at last they let their emotions take control.

But there was nothing romantic in what I was seeing right then. Everything in the scene would indicate so - the closeness of two bodies, the heavy, raspy breathing of Henry, the rise and fall of her chest, the way she had to look up to even see his face.

But I knew, I felt it in the air that it wasn’t romantic. I saw it in her eyes, as they shined with a grotesque triumph, and in the downwards curve of Henry’s furious lips.

‘¿Por qué estás así? Malvada…’

Her dry laugh sent chills down my spine.

‘¿Malvada? Vaya… creo que puedes hacerlo mejor que eso. Malvada. Que broma.’

His teeth shined as he snarled at her.

I felt as if I should do something in that moment. In fact, second Henry shut the door so forcefully should have been my indicator to step in. But, and I’m very ashamed of it, I was to enraptured in the drama unfolding right before my own eyes to do anything.

Well, in all truth, I felt thrilled more than anything. It was as if they were inviting me to listen in on their conversation. Even though they were speaking Spanish, only god knows why of all the languages they knew they chose this one, I could understand a fair share of their conversation. You see, as a Californian, born and raised, I was obliged to learn Spanish in some level. I never told them that, but despite my inborn detest for that language I was quite good at it. And so, by the matter of predisposition I felt in the right to finally put my linguistic skills to the test.

‘No te voy a injuriar. Sabes lo que has hecho. La vergüenza debería ser suficiente.’

But he didn’t loosen his grip on her arms, nor did she lower her gaze in the shame she was supposed to feel.

‘Ese comportamiento tuyo… Yo… yo no lo puedo lograr. Eso… esa farsa… así no es como deben comportarse las damas.’

‘Juro que no. Y juro que esa Camilla tuya nunca se comportaría así, ¿es verdad o no?’

The heavy, almost tortured exhale that escaped Henry’s throat shook my hitherto conviction of the astute nature of this encounter.

‘Camilla es una dama.’

‘Y yo no.’

‘Esto no es lo que estoy diciendo.’

‘En hecho, parece así.’

Henry hung his head and I realized that it wasn’t anger I saw before in him. That was pain that misshaped his features. Pure, unadulterated pain, that made him look almost like a martyr. The way he gripped her, supported himself in her unyielding posture made it look as if he was seeking council in the arms of the Virgin Mary.

She seemed content, not at all tortured as he was. Her hand, the same she used to operate on her cigarette, rose once again. This time not to inhale smoke but to caress his cheek. Once again it was as if I was witnessing some kind of a ritual. A witchcraft happening right before my eyes.

Her slim hand amongst the disrupted flamelight painting bizarre shapes on the wall right next to me. The way she touched him, first with only the fingertips, but then, more daring, with her whole palm. Her hand slowly rested on his cheek, completely covering the side of his face. And the look she gave him- almost pitting, with a trace of a loving disappointment.

I more or less knew Henry well enough to know how he would react. I imagined that because of all the emotions I witnessed pass through him in such a short span of time, and the superiority she seemed to exude over him, I could only imagine he would reject the hand, push her away and task her with a look of the deepest discontent.

But then, to all my astonishment he leaned into her touch. Truly, like a lost pilgrim he accepted her comfort. His arms slid helplessly from her forearms and slithered around her waist. His large form shrunk in my eyes as he fitted himself into her. His head fitted perfectly under her chin.

‘Deja de perseguirme. Te ruego.’

She said nothing. Only caressed his cheek some more, and let her other hand weave through the dark curls.

‘No puedo comer, no puedo leer, soñar, escribir sin ser distraído por tu presencia. Me destrozas el alma con tus garras y en torno yo no puedo respirar sin añorar ese dolor.’

There was something truly tragic, pleading in his voice. As if the thing she was doing, I had no idea what that thing could be, was bringing him real, physical pain.

‘¿Pero qué me estás pidiendo? ¿Mi vida, qué es lo que te altera en mi presencia? Por último yo no hago nada… nada para herirte. Nada para hacerte falta.’

‘Eres tú.’

The accusation rang in his voice like an irrevocable verdict of a judge.

‘Todo eso, mi tormento, ese agujero enorme en mi pecho, los llamas que consumen mi alma cada vez que te miro… eres tú. Y todo esto debe acabar. Ya. Lo es que te estoy pidiendo.’

Despite his desperate words, he moved up, to once again join their foreheads together, but now it was gentle, almost shy. His nose brushed against her cheek as he nuzzled into her.

Now they were embracing each other. The moment turning from bordering on alarming to frighteningly intimate. I felt as if I should go, like the thing I was currently witnessing could at any moment turn into something neither I wanted nor felt comfortable witnessing. And yet, as many times before, I didn’t even move a muscle. Maybe it was my morbid curiosity, or a weird habit of peep-tomming I picked up here in Hampden, but I stayed seated, as I was.

And Henry continued.

‘Tú. Tú sola vives en mi mente sin cargos. Día y noche. Eres lo solo de que puedo pensar. El olor tuyo. Este pelo de terciopelo.’ As he spoke he picked a lock of her hair and pressed it to his face. ‘Tu sonrisa y estos jodidos ojos siniestros. Preocupen todos los parted de mí vida y yo… yo no puedo resistir a este embate de la existencia tuya.’

His words fell hurriedly from his lips, hushed against her own as they brushed softly together. It wasn’t a kiss, but I could see their skin touching in a feverish connection as he ranked into her and she took it with eyes closed. It was the first time I’ve seen her so motionless, so pliant, so open. With her head thrown back and back arched into him she almost looked as if she was the one at his mercy as he presented his pleas to her.

‘ Entonces no lo hagas. No te resistas nada más. Los dos, nos queremos… lo mismo.’

‘Lo sabes que no puedo. No cuando Bunny…’

The shriek that came out of her chilled me to the bone. The sheer strain of her throat and pain that resounded in it made me think for a second, that while I was focused on the two of them mingling by the fire, Henry pushed a dagger between her ribs.

But then I understood. That the pain I heard in her, was just it. It was the same pain that bloomed in Henry. It was like the ivy that climbed our auditorium. Ever-present and binding. It enraptured them both and joined them in this common suffering. In it they stood, together like the Parthenon marbles, foreheads touching, hands holding onto each other for dear life.

Speaking of life, it seemed as if all of it suddenly escaped her and now she slumped against Henry. Curling herself into him, she disappeared into the folds of his dark coat and mumbled something into his chest, too low for me to distinguish any of her words.

Something strange crossed Henry’s face as if her words offended him in some way. He pushed himself away from her and with the impact of the movement he circled around his own axis.

‘No me des esa mierda. ¡Él me confesó! ¡Es mi amigo!’

‘¿Y qué?’

‘Mi honor…’

‘¡Henry, Bunny ya tiene una novia!’

‘Eso no retiene ni agua, él me confesó. Ya, para actuar sobre mis emociones ¡sería como apuñarlo por la espalda!’

‘Cobarde.’

That stopped him in his tracks. Hunched over, out of breath from all the agitated pacing he looked at her. His cheeks red, furiously scarlet in the flames as he chugged at her in disbelief. Anger painted his face anew.

But in that scene, however intimidating Henry appeared, his agitated posture shriveled before her.

Tall, towering over him and illuminated by the flames she held her head high. And what I saw in her face in turn frightened me to no end. A tempest trapped in human features. Brows furrowed lips pursed in the purest expression of disgust, eyes blazing as if luminescent hot sparks of fire were ready to burst out of their irises. An undeniable power laid in the way she crossed her ankles and spread her arms on the mantle.

And her voice- rumbling like a thunder, merciless and sharp as a knife that cut through the ramblings of Henry.

‘Los dos sabemos perfectamente que en caso de Bunny no existe ningún término como honor. Si él estuviera en tu lugar, juro que me tendría sin reproches. La manera en que actúas me indica que tan solo eres un cobarde.’

A heavy silence ring between them after those words.

Henry finally seemed to catch his breath and he stretched to his full height. His composure came back, and with now steady hand he adjusted the spectacles that fell crookedly from his nose. Calm resolve settling into his features.

‘I don’t know how about you, but in my world it’s better to be a coward than a traitor.’

His coat flapped around him as he swirled on his heel and went to open the door.

As he was leaving, he threw one las look over his shoulder. And now with a softer, neigh apologetic note in his tone he said:

‘Goodnight to you.’

And he was off.

Stunned by the exchange I just witnessed I didn’t even notice as she crouched over and picked up the fallen cigarette.

I simply couldn’t fathom what I just had been a witness to. A lovers quarrel? An argument between friends? What was going on? And why was Bunny of all people tangled in all of this?

In my peripheral vision the smothered snout once again shined with heat and a tall figure neared me. She stopped right before the opened doors and inhaled an impressive amount of smoke. For a second I thought that she as well was going to overlook my presence and just carry on with her night.

But then she turned towards me.

A grey cloud os smoke escaped her mouth and obscured her whole head as she spoke, her voice unstrung and deep with the tabaco that had settled on her vocal cords. Only her eyes shined in the dark onslaught of mist.

‘Pick and choose your battles, am I right, Richard?’

And in a gust of smoke and a soft creak of the floor, she was gone.

When I woke up the sun was high in the sky. Bright autumn sky peaked through the loose curtains into the dinning room.

During the day the mansion looked quite different than by night.

Yesterday all of it, the tables floors, vases books and even the vanity table set on the middle of the main corridor appeared to me as a part of some ancient scripture. Unreal, brought to life by the ring of a bell and made of mist and alcohol. I feared that if I even touched something, it would dissolve into smoke right in my fingers.

But today, blessed with the soft rays of daylight it all seemed excruciatingly normal. Like any other summer house.

Well, it would seem normal if it wasn’t for the only other person present in the room as I woke up from my slumber.

She was sitting at the table, the same one we all dined at just a few hours prior. A cigarette fuming in the corner of her mouth, mountains of papers and books surrounding her like a sturdy castle wall.

She was reading something and simultaneously scribbling something on a piece of paper to her left.

In the daylight, when she was focused on something other than mischief I would say she looked rather beautiful. With her hair cascading freely over her shoulder and the sheer floor-length sleeping gown she could be taken for one of the angelic Jane Austen heroins. And after what I saw the night before, I thought that this comparison might be closer to the truth than any other that I managed to muster.

Strange how quick she could go from alarming intimidating to soothingly calm.

I intended to stand up, as quietly as possible, and while disturbing her as little as possible sneak myself upstairs to maybe wash up and catch some more sleep.

But as I slowly started to rise, her head swung my way, alert as if that was what she’s been waiting for.

‘Oh, you’re awake. Good. How was your sleep?’

‘Horrid.’

Her laugh was melodic, pure as the creeks of Ancient Greece, full with life and nothing like the dry shreds I heard from her yesterday.

‘I would assume as much. You’ve had quite a lot to drink, didn’t you.’

I nodded my head, not knowing what else to say, and that earned me another giggle. I have to say, when she wasn’t hellbent on scaring me, she could be rather charming.

‘Don’t be shy. Come here, I have some coffee for you. Come on, don’t be long it will help you.’

I moved towards the sit opposite to her, but she waved her hand dismissively and pushed one of the paper-book towers across the table top, so I had no other choice but to sit next to her.

She poured me some coffee from a glass coffee pot into a suspiciously clean glass. It was rather lukewarm, but still quite tasty. With no milk or sugar, it was truly what I needed to calm the torturous hammering inside of my skull.

From up close I could see that her gown was not sheer but rather see-through, and although I wasn’t very attracted to her, it was very hard for me (a true Sisyphean work) not to gaze downwards at her from time to time.

‘What are you doing?’

I pointed at the stack of papers under her elbow.

‘Oh well you know, reading, writing.’

‘What?’

‘This one here is my novel, that miserable stack is a dissertation, a rotten work really, something about industrialism I would imagine and this beauty here is my letter.’

One thing I learned about her was that she hated technology with a burning passion. There wasn’t a thing in this world she would detest as much as she did the modern inventions. In fact she would actively work to avoid any contact with it.

You could never see her typing away on a typing machine. Or idly chatting on a telephone. No, I think she would rather die than use any sort of that kind of inventions.

Instead she clung to the old ways. Writing letters was her thing. If she liked you, you could even receive a weekly subscription to her papery mumbling describing what she did, experienced and thought in the past week. It was in truth quite pleasant to be a recipient of those letters as both, her writing was quite light and enjoyable and it also showed that you meant something in her life. For example, in the course of the year I had spent in Hampden, since that Autumn morning I hadn’t received my letters only twice, and it was shortly after Bunny’s death.

The pursuit of the natural manifested also in her passion for walking. Everywhere she went, she got there by foot. Bar or a museum, she got around just fine, only by using her own pair of legs.

I don’t think she even had a car and it always irked me to know how on earth did she get to Hampden? Or better, how did she manage to travel all the way from school to this summer house?

After all she had never caught a lift with any of us, but at the same time she was always present there. It was truly a mystery to me.

After some time with her, I got to solve that last query, although at a large personal cost.

‘A letter? Who are you writing to?’

‘A friend.’

‘And a novel?’

A big toothy smile appeared on her face the moment I mentioned the novel. And for a second, as I looked at her I thought that it wasn’t the sun that blessed this room with this delicate warm light, but she herself.

She slid a few pieces of paper, all covered in minuscule tight and green handwriting.

‘Can I? Isn’t it private?’

‘What difference does it make. At some point someone’s gotta read it.’

‘Am I the first one to…’

‘But of course. I’ve never shared it with anyone before.’

‘Then why now?’

‘Because I trust you.’

‘Me? Why?’

And there it was, that wolfish grin again, along with the spark in her eyes that presaged an wonderful play for her, and a less pleasant ordeal for me.

‘Oh, Richard Papen, wouldn’t you like to know.’

And with that, I think, I became her accomplice.

#richard papen #henry winter x reader #henry winter #camilla macaulay #charles macaulay #francis abernathy #the secret history #dark academia #afab reader #dark romance #bunny corcoran

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psalacanthea · 8 months

Text

Vampires, Romance, and Other Dead Things- Chapter 1

sigh. I really can't stay away from a modern au. This will hopefully be a regular novel-length fic instead of a monster. Modern+magic Tav x Astarion, set in Baldur's Gate. Here's the fic!

...

Luckless, aimless, and quite fine with that, Zynatheri's neatly ordered and lazy life is thrown into chaos when she stumbles across Astarion bloody and beaten in an alleyway.

Drunk and confused, she rescues him and dragging him home to sleep on her couch...only for them to realize the next morning that she didn't save his life after all. He's dead now. UN-dead.

Unfortunately, behind a vampire spawn there's always a true vampire, and if he wants to stay free Astarion is going to need some help. While Zyn's irritating friends seem more than happy to help, she's not quite so certain. He's messy, entitled, rude, demanding, and selfish. And to top it off, he's incredibly dramatic. That's HER job!

Zyn would much rather bed the annoying patriar, dump him somewhere in Upper City, and wash her hands of it, but no. Her best friend Wyll's hungry for adventure, determined to rescue another monster from a worse monster. Do-gooders. Just the worst.

And if that weren't bad enough, the irritating(ly attractive) spawn won't leave her apartment.

What's she supposed to do, keep him?

...

“I’m having a bit of an urgent situation here, if you don’t mind.”

“Mhmm,” Zyn mumbled absently, squirting toothpaste into her mouth. She brushed, spat, and rinsed. He tapped his foot the entire time. She straightened up and raked her hair back out of her face. “I don’t have a spare toothbrush.”

“I. Don’t. Care.”

“You should, it’s important to–” she glanced over her shoulder again, un-blurred eyes finally taking him in. Oh. That’s why she’d let him into her apartment.

His face was long, a little too aristocratic for her liking, but with a very pretty mouth and devastatingly attractive eyes, despite the colo– wait. Narrowing hers, Zynatheri peered into the stranger’s scarlet eyes. Red eyes. On an eladrin.

“Are you half drow?”

He drew himself up, looking offended. Still disheveled, though. “How dare you.”

“Don’t be a bi–” She stopped. Wait. His eyes had been a different color last night. Her eyes flickered down to his burned hand. Burned. Red eyes. He’d been standing behind her when she–

Zyn turned back around, staring into the spotty, tarnished mirror.

Only her own reflection gazed back, the doorway behind her empty. Shit. All right, so she’d invited a vampire into her house. Fine, fine, that was fine. But why had he tried to go out in the su–

“So weird question, but those guys that jumped you last night. Did one of them bite you?”

“What are you– yes, if you must know.”

She bent down. “Look in the mirror.”

There was silence from behind her for a good few seconds, as the stranger had a Revelation. Not wanting to waste time, Zyn took the opportunity to wash her face, including the vestiges of last night’s makeup. Whoops. Neh. If he tried to bite her he probably didn’t know how, so a swift kick to the balls should settle things.

Zynatheri grabbed her hand towel blindly and yanked it down.

Luckily she knew a lot of people who were probably okay with being bit by a vampire spawn, but as far as she knew usually spawns weren’t just…able to escape like this. Probably better to hand him off to someone and be done with it before the big one came to claim him. If he really was a spoiled little patriar, his family would probably figure it out.

“Shit,” he said from behind her, voice hushed.

#VRODT #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion x tav #tav: zynatheri rivati #astarion #modern au #ive mostly finished the next chapter already -_-#the brain wants to write what the brain wants to write

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minefield-of-a-ninja · 2 years

Text

28 DAYS: CHAPTER ONE

Summary: Dean Winchester is an addict and an alcoholic, a USMC veteran, a father, and an older brother. As Battalion Chief with Lawrence Fire & Medical, Dean comes under investigation when he makes a dangerous and impulsive decision, defying his superiors and abandoning the team he is supposed to lead. He is given the choice to go to rehab for 28 days, or jail. His lawyer insists on rehab, and Dean begrudgingly abides.

Chapter Characters: Dean Winchester, (mentions) Gordon Walker, Victor Henriksen, Jo Harvelle, Casey (Wood), Sam Winchester

Chapter tags, warnings: sexually explicit, emergency action, fire, drug use, thoughts of death and dying, teen endangerment

Chapter WC: 3k

Author’s notes: Inspired by the film 28 Days and following canon themes from SPN, this is a fic about Dean, a firefighter who goes to rehab, not about Dean as a firefighter. Thank you to my brilliant and insightful focus puller and long-time friend @brrose-apothecary for making that distinction, and many more thanks to her and to @stusbunker for their unending support, readings, and conversations about things that matter.

If I use terminology related to firefighting, drug use, or addiction recovery, I will be sure to define it in the notes.

Triple V = vodka, Valium (diazepam), and Vicodin (hydrocodone)

K = Ketamine

text divider by @talesmaniac89

CHAPTER ONE

Everything’s hot and slick and right on the edge of falling somewhere even hotter.

Every song is for you, every come hither look and sultry laugh, every praise, invitation, everything worth a fuck is for you.

Hands and lips and tongues, beguiling; teeth and nails, punishing — all the sensations of our earthly bodies are shards of crystal swathed in satin and velvet, tied with pure golden thread.

There’s a lustful cacophony, a symphony surrounding you, everything sounds like fucking, and it sounds like it’s coming from inside of you — like it’s part of you.

No matter how loud it gets, it’s never too loud. Nothing’s ever too much or enough.

You want more, more, more, fuck yes, more.

“Winchester,” Dean mumbles, squinting at the incoming number and the time. His vision swims from side to side before he figures out that it’s 4:45 AM and the call is from dispatch.

“Chief, we have a conflagration at Midland High School, north on highway 59.”

Dean murmurs a swear as he rolls to his back and drags a hand over his face.

He was at Gordon’s until 3:30 this morning, when he downed a Triple V and then walked six blocks back to his place to crash. He hasn’t even had time to dream, but his dreams aren’t usually the good kind anyway.

“A’right. Chief Novak in?” He swings his legs over the side of his bed and slumps upright as he slides the drawer to his nightstand open.

“Yes, sir,” replies the dispatcher. “All hands, sir.”

She doesn’t apologize for calling him on his morning off, and she shouldn’t. This isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last time that Dean’s called in on his day off. As Battalion Chief, it’s his duty to lead big jobs like conflagrations.

He’s fucked up, though; his brain isn’t firing on more than one single cylinder at this point, so he’s going to need an extra pick-me-up this morning.

“Thanks, Mia,” he rumbles before disconnecting the call and dropping his phone to his pillow.

He lifts a small mirror from inside the drawer upon which lies a razor blade, a small amount of white powder, and a short, thin stainless steel tube. Dean deftly cuts two thin lines with the blade and quickly snorts them.

Before running out the door, Dean blasts himself with a 45-second cold shower while brushing his teeth and pockets a small vial of blow for later; there’s no telling how long this’ll last.

Dean and his team pull up to the school amidst a scene of first responders, police, and news crews. His most recent ex... whatever she was to him, Casey Wood, is the reporter closest to them.

Dean drops from the driver’s side of the truck to his feet and throws her a wink which earns him an eye roll and a cold shoulder. Snapshots of Casey crying, throwing things, and slamming doors whirr through his mind, as he secures his gear.

“Casey, Casey, Casey,” Victor sing-songs as he joins Dean.

They always banter as they gear up, but Dean’s a little more on edge this morning than usual. Casey's name so casually on Victor’s lips raises Dean’s hackles in a way it doesn’t usually. He recognizes it and steels himself to keep up the facade.

“The things that girl can do with her mouth,” Dean says with a wicked smirk.

“Whoa-ho-hoooa!” Victor hoots.

It’s a cheap shot, and Dean knows it. Casey’s fucking smart and tough. She never faked anything in her life, she said what she said, and she loved him, too, if he’d have let her.

“Good morning, misogyny!” Jo hops down next to them, buckling her harness.

Dean feels unreal and unmoored, but they’ve got a job to do. He closes his eyes and breathes, then shrugs out an eye roll.

“Aww, c’mon, darlin’, I appreciate her skill. That ain’t a hateful thing,” Dean slams the door shut, and Victor snorts beside him.

Jo glares at him in disbelief. “You’re a fucking pig. Let’s go.” She turns on her heel and slaps her hand against the side of the truck as she walks, hurrying up the other two members of their team.

Dean blinks rapidly. He’s queasy and buzzing. He remembers the vial in his pocket, under layers of uniform and gear, and berates himself for not having better access to it. His mind starts to spin around excuses to stay back and dig it out before Victor claps him on the back.

“You heard the lady, boss.” Victor grins, and Dean flashes a tight smile in response. They’re fully suited up as they jog to catch up with Jo, Zeke, and Nick.

Under lights and camera, Casey tells the story of the day.

“Fire Chief Castiel Novak has informed us that a group of Midland High School boys has admitted to starting the fire,” she reads from the teleprompter to the camera.

“One of the four arsonists was injured in the blast and is trapped inside the school’s chemistry lab with dangerous chemicals and potentially open bunsen burner outlets,” she continues. “The boy’s cries can be heard through an external window broken for ventilation. The other three boys are currently being examined by paramedics onsite.

“Just now,” she pauses and motions toward the retreat of Dean’s team, “Battalion Chief Dean Winchester has arrived to lead the rescue team. We’ll provide more details as we receive them.”

Dean’s team is always the same. They know each other like they know their own selves. Some of them have known each other their whole lives, like he and Jo Harvelle. Dean and Victor Henriksen have known each other since middle school. Zeke Gadreel and Nick Iblis served two tours in Iraq together, and no matter how unhealthy or co-dependent their relationship may be to outsiders, Dean’s grateful for their bond.

He talks the way through even if he repeats himself because he needs it to stay grounded, and they need to hear his voice. This is where he shines, leading his team and making them feel safe.

Two corridors over from the lab, he stops.

“A’right, we’re gonna do this clean and sharp. Keep your eyes and ears open and listen to Cas.” He taps the com in his ear as the team triple-checks each other’s rigs. “We know there’s one kid in here, based on testimony from the other little fuckers who started this thing, but let’s not rule anything out.”

He makes eye contact with each and every one of them for final confirmation before he nods one last time and turns toward the worst of the smoke.

“Like I said, eyes and ears open.”

When they reach the lab, Dean makes a motion to hold, and his team complies.

“Cas, you there?” he asks.

“Hold in position,” Chief Novak states over the radio. “We’re going to try to cut through the roof for sightlines.”

Dean pulls a glove off to test the heat. “Door’s hot as an oven, Cas, and I can still hear ‘im cryin’ in there. Fuckin’ kid.”

Dean grits his teeth. His daughter Emma just started school at Midland this fall. She’s a freshman. This kid’s probably in her class.

Not that he’d know; Emma hasn’t talked to Dean in five weeks.

“All stop,” the head chief states with new information. “Dean, we can’t open the roof.”

“Fuckin’- of course not.” Dean sighs and pulls his glove back on.

“If we get too much oxygen in there before we know what other chemicals we’re dealing with, the explosion will blow the door and the rest of the roof off that lab with you and your team in it.”

Dean nods his head as the chief rattles off everything they all fucking know. He’s about to come out of his skin from the heat and urge to rip the door off the hinges all by himself just to be done with it.

“Right,” he mutters, rolling his neck and picturing the precious, unattainable vial in his pocket.

The boy’s screams roar over the din of the event, and Dean squeezes his eyes shut tight. His mind scrambles around memories of his baby brother crying in his arms as he ran from his home’s blaze more than 35 years ago. He shakes his head to clear it, which only serves to make his stomach lurch.

“Dean? You OK?” Jo asks, concern marring her soft face.

Dean doesn’t answer her. “Has anybody got eyes on the fire line?” he asks, assessing his gear for anything he can unload, anything that might weigh him down.

“Chief,” someone utters, and the uncertain eyes of his team are burning hotter than the fire. Zeke takes a step toward him, and Dean snarls.

Chief Novak’s voice cracks through the com. “Dean, I’m telling you, we couldn’t open the roof the way we opened the hallway. The oxygen will-”

“Yeah, Cas, I heard ya the first time, and this ain’t my first fuckin’ rodeo.” Dean turns to his crew, dropping rope and gear.

“Dean, y’heard Cas-” Victor reaches for him.

“Get out,” Dean says, and Victor drops his hand and turns to Jo. “I’m goin’ in alone. Now!”

“All stop! All stop! All stop!”

An invisible force pushes Dean from behind, and he lands on his shoulder.

The kid rolls in one direction, and Dean rolls in the opposite. A boom sounds, and the smoke takes on a remarkably orange hue.

On autopilot and half-conscious, Dean crawls to check the kid’s pulse before a rush of bodies, shouts, and lights knock him out cold.

“Fuck, that’s good, Case.” Dean brushes her hair to the side so he can watch his cock disappear between her stretched lips like a shining piston into a slick cylinder.

Casey hums, slowly bobbing her head, and twisting her fist around his girth. Her other delicate hand rests on Dean’s denim-clad knee as she kneels between his booted feet on her living room rug.

There’s still enough K in his system that every slide of her tongue feels like magic skittering along his dick. He slides a hand into her hair and twists it.

Twenty minutes ago, Casey tried to slam the door in his face, but not before calling him a liar. He didn’t lie, though. He fully intended to be there for dinner with her parents; he just lost track of time.

Besides, why in Hell would she want her parents to know she lets him in her house at all, let alone inside her body?

“I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” Dean mutters, gripping the base of his cock and gently lifting her by her chin. “Lemme make it up to you.”

He’s on call starting at 6 AM tomorrow, so it’s good he’s there. Casey won’t let him do anything stupid. Instead, he can sober up and fuck it out, go to the station fresh in the morning.

As he pulls her from the floor to lay her back against her couch cushions, she looks at him like he’s something extraordinary, and his belly flips.

“You’re too good to me, Case,” he whispers, twisting his body and hers, sliding his hands up under her dress, and wedging his shoulders under her thighs.

Her eyes soften, and he can’t stand looking into them so deeply. He brushes his thumbs up along the satiny edges of her panties before closing his eyes and dipping in to press kisses to the damp fabric.

Casey moans, writhing under him with a smile.

She thinks he lied to her, but she still lets him in. Dean doesn’t lie; he just sucks at keeping promises. He’s better at apologizing.

He slips his fingers inside the leg of her panties to lightly knuckle her slit as he reaches around one long lean thigh to lace his other fingers with hers over her smooth belly. When he pulls the fabric of her panties aside to kiss and lick her bare pussy, he groans at her heat and taste.

He wants to dive in and devour her, but this isn’t about what he wants.

Casey’s free hand lands on the back of Dean’s head, and she rolls her hips up into his face.

“That’s right,” he breathes and slides his tongue down one side and up the other of her clit. “Take what you want, princess.”

“Dean,” she whispers, twisting his hair in her fist. “I just want you...”

Dean wakes up in the hospital. He’s hooked up to machines and bags of fluid. His tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth and painful when he tries to separate it. He draws a deep breath and immediately hacks, wincing from the pain that radiates from his shoulder, chest, and hips.

“Fuck,” he groans in a broken whisper.

Dean hates hospitals. No one likes hospitals, but Jesus fucking Christ, Dean’s never had a single positive experience in one. He can’t breathe. It’s all in his head, but that doesn’t make it any easier to try.

“You dislocated your shoulder,” Sam speaks from somewhere in the room.

Dean freezes and closes his eyes. He doesn’t bother to find his brother by sight. If Sam’s there, this is bad.

“Broke two ribs and strained your hip. You’re lucky to be alive, and not just because of your injuries.” Sam’s voice draws closer with each word.

“You here to finish me off?” Dean asks, trying for a joke, but he doesn’t have much of a voice. He ends up sounding like he’s choking, which is appropriate.

Sam doesn’t laugh. “I’m here to tell you that you’re done, Dean.”

Dean scoffs, shifting in his bed, increasingly agitated by the tubes and wires attached to him but without the energy or brain space to do anything about them. He clears his throat and swallows.

“Done with what, exactly?” he asks, finally laying eyes on his brother.

He looks good — healthy and strong. Sad, though. Or maybe he’s mad, Dean can never tell anymore.

“Your bullshit, playboy, disaster of a life,” Sam replies with clear contempt.

Dean stares at him, waiting. He doesn’t have a comeback. He’s out of them.

Sam starts to pace. “Your team got the fire and hot spots out about eight hours after you collapsed. Cyrus Styne, the 16-year-old kid you went in after, is in critical condition.”

Sam stops no more than a foot from Dean’s bed, looking him dead in the eye.

“You tested positive for marijuana, hydrocodone, diazepam, and cocaine, and your blood-alcohol level was .23. That’s almost three times the legal level of intoxication. I don’t even fucking know how you walked into a burning building-”

“Hmm. And did I consent to these tests?” Dean murmurs, derailing the very clear direction Sam was headed with his diatribe.

For the first time since the last time Dean saw his brother, Sam is obviously confounded by how Dean isn’t dead already — so is Dean.

Sam scoffs and shakes his head. His gaze is strained, and his jaw is tight. “Dean, I... I can’t get you out of this.”

Sam has worked magic in the past. One of his greatest efforts was winning joint custody of Emma for Dean. Sam works by the letter of the law, but the best lawyers know how to make the law work for them and their clients.

Dean is suddenly very, very tired. He can’t remember the last time he did anything to make Sam proud. He doesn’t even know if he ever has.

“I need a cigarette,” he mumbles before looking up to study the ceiling.

“Look, the only thing I could do was get them to agree to 28 days in a rehab facility-”

“Ugh, Sammy,” Dean wails, sitting up and immediately tugging at the IVs and monitors. An alarm goes off, and Sam turns his back and moves toward the large window overlooking the parking lot.

Three men rush into the room, two orderlies and a nurse, to restrain Dean. He immediately gives up, feeling wasted, sick, and terrified.

“Your other option is jail,” Sam mutters from the window, and Dean’s stomach drops. His throat convulses as he attempts to swallow back the bile rising in his throat.

The orderlies stand back as the nurse assesses the damage Dean’s done with his little outburst. Dean closes his eyes and breathes as he re-fastens the patches and IVs.

He won’t cry, he won’t cry, he won’t cry...

“You’re suspended from the department, probably indefinitely,” Sam continues quietly. “I can’t even get Cas on the phone. You endangered the lives of your entire team and everyone onsite. Your team, Dean. Jo. Victor. Casey was there.”

Dean burrows into the thin, lumpy bed, shivering from the feel of needles in his veins and the low vibration of the monitors attached to his chest. He doesn’t see when the nurse and the orderlies leave, but he can feel the shift in the air.

“I know.”

He doesn’t know any more about the fire than what Sam’s told him, but he damn well knows what an absolute disappointment he is to his little brother.

“Dean, why-” Sam sighs, sounding as weary and distraught as Dean feels.

Dean is silent as he stares at the ceiling, and Sam doesn’t seem surprised.

“Forget it.” Sam grabs his jacket from the visiting chair and starts to shrug into it. “As soon as you can be released from here, someone’ll pick you up to transport you to the facility. Text me a list of what you need from your apartment, and I’ll make sure it gets packed.”

Sam draws a final breath before leaving the room, and Dean wills himself to sleep.

Chapter 2

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#Dean Winchester AU #Dean Winchester is saved

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