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pucksandpower · 8 months ago

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Something Sweet

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the story of your relationship … as told through gelato (in honor of Charles opening an ice cream shop)

The warm spring sun beats down on your face as you stroll along the winding streets of Monaco, gelato in hand. You savor each sweet bite, the rich hazelnutty flavor melting across your tongue.

This is bliss.

You just moved here to attend university and every day feels like a dream come true exploring your new home principality.

The picturesque buildings with their sun-baked stucco walls and colorful tiled roofs line the narrow alleyways. Locals bustle about, chatting rapidly in French as scooters whiz by. The air carries a tang of salt from the glittering Mediterranean just beyond the palace ramparts.

You could get used to this.

Suddenly, a body careens around the corner, slamming right into you. You stumble backward as the gelato goes flying, splattering across the quaint cobblestones in a sticky mess.

“Oh mon dieu, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” A frantic voice rings out as a pair of strong hands steady you before you can topple over completely.

You look up, slightly dazed, into a pair of warm green eyes filled with concern. The man is clad in athletic shorts and a snug t-shirt, damp with sweat from an obvious run. Tousled chestnut hair flops across his forehead in an effortlessly tousled way.

He’s … incredibly handsome.

Like, stupid levels of handsome.

“I’m fine, really,” you stammer out, feeling your cheeks flush as his hands linger almost ... protectively on your arms. “Just clumsy me dropping my gelato.”

He grimaces, following your gaze to the melting puddle. “I’m such an idiot, let me replace that for you.” His face is the picture of remorse as he gently releases his grip.

You wave him off with an awkward chuckle. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal ...”

But he’s already shaking his head adamantly. “No, no I insist. That looked delicious and it’s entirely my fault.” He shoots you a lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “I know this amazing little place that makes the best gelato in Monaco. My treat to make up for barreling into you like that.”

You can’t help but be charmed by his earnestness as you nod slowly in acceptance. “Well, when you put it like that ...”

“Perfect!” He beams at you, that bright smile crinkling the corners of his eyes in the most delightful way. “I’m Charles, by the way.”

You introduce yourself as well as Charles begins leading you deeper into the winding backstreets, clearly knowing exactly where he’s going. You can’t help stealing sidelong glances at him as you walk, admiring the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders visible through his fitted shirt.

Finally, he ducks into a tiny alleyway, stopping before an unassuming doorway you surely would have just passed right by. A faded sign hangs above reading Gelatomania in curling script.

“This place is my favorite,” Charles confides in a conspiratorial murmur as he holds the door for you. “Family-run for generations and miles better than any of the touristy places.”

You step inside and are immediately enveloped in a thick, sugary aroma that makes your mouth water. A few little metal tables with rickety chairs are squeezed into the compact space, but it’s the immaculate glass cases lining the walls that draw your eye.

Filled with every flavor imaginable, the gelato looks utterly divine — from naturally green pistachio to decadent chocolate hazelnut to tangy lemon. An older woman with a grandmotherly face greets Charles like an old friend in rapid Italian from behind the counter.

He responds easily in kind before turning back to you. “What’ll it be? I recommend the hazelnut again if you liked your first one.”

You nod and watch, utterly charmed, as Charles places your order for a fresh hazelnut gelato with a deferential “per favore” and that knee-weakening smile of his. He gets a simple vanilla for himself before paying and leading you over to a little iron table outside in a sliver of sunshine.

You take your first bite and … oh my god. This is gelato from the heavens themselves. You can’t contain the downright blissful moan that escapes your lips as the divinely creamy, rich concoction melts across your tongue.

“Good, right?” Charles looks incredibly pleased at your rapturous reaction as he digs into his own treat with gusto.

“This might be the single most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” you admit fervently between increasingly enthusiastic licks and bites. “How have I survived this long without knowing this place existed?”

Charles throws his head back with a full-bellied laugh at your passionate proclamation. God, even his laugh is unfairly attractive ...

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he grins around a mouthful of velvety vanilla. “I’ve been coming here since before I could walk. Quickly became my favorite gelato spot.”

“You’ve lived here a while then?” You ask between savoring bites of the impossibly luscious confection. “I only just moved for university.”

Charles nods as he licks a stray drip from his thumb. “Yeah, born and raised a few streets over actually.”

There’s a slight lull as you both focus on thoroughly demolishing your gelato for a few contented minutes, exchanging occasional muffled hums of sheer delight. The warm sun filtering through the awning casts a soft golden glow over the little alleyway, lending everything a dreamlike haze of perfection.

“So beyond being from here, do you have any exciting hobbies or interests?” You ask eventually, dragging the conversation back into the open.

“Well ...” Charles’ expression morphs into one of almost sheepish amusement as he leans back in his rickety chair. “You could say my hobby is also kind of my job. I’m actually a Formula 1 driver, believe it or not.”

You damn near choke on your next bite as his words register. “You’re what? As in ... a race car driver? In Formula 1? Seriously?”

There’s no way this stunning man is being truthful. Sure, he looks like he could be some kind of athlete with that perfectly toned physique. But a literal professional race car driver? The thought is almost too crazy to be believed.

Charles just laughs again at your dumbfounded reaction, clearly used to this response as he nods. “Seriously! I compete for Ferrari if you follow the races at all?”

You think you might pass out from shock as everything clicks into place — the athletic build, the way people seemed to stare as he passed them on the street, the laid-back confidence and easy smile of someone incredibly comfortable in their own skin ...

“Oh my god, you’re ... you’re Charles freaking Leclerc, aren’t you?” You gape at him in abject disbelief. “As in, the guy literally plastered on the huge billboard across from my apartment? Leading the championship? Incredibly talented and famous?”

He lets out an almost bashful chuckle at your rapid-fire incredulous questioning, shrugging one broad shoulder. “Well, I don’t know about incredibly talented or famous. But yes, that’s me — just your average local race car driver currently making an absolute mess while eating gelato.”

Here you sit, having just shared an utterly divine dessert while shamelessly ogling one of the most popular and well-known athletes in the damn world … and he’s acting like it’s absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Like you’re just two regular people enjoying a sweet treat together on a sunny day.

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now,” you murmur, shaking your head slowly. “Do you have any idea how many people would kill to literally just ... sit across from you like this while you eat mediocre gas station ice cream, much less the world’s best gelato? I’m … stunned you’re so nonchalant about this whole thing.”

Charles merely flashes you a self-deprecating grin as he pops the last bite of cone into his mouth. “Well, to me you’re not some screaming fangirl, but just a lovely new friend I enjoy gelato with. Though my ego certainly appreciates the compliments.”

He winks at you impishly and you feel an unwitting smile tugging at the corners of your own lips despite your lingering disbelief. You suppose being surrounded by such incredible wealth and luxury every day in Monaco, Charles likely doesn’t register it anymore. Not to mention the clearly down-to-earth personality he seems to possess given that genuine humility.

The hours just seem to slip effortlessly by then as the two of you continue to chat and laugh and bask in the perfect afternoon contentment of the moment. Charles regales you with ridiculous behind-the-scenes stories about increasingly crazy bets with his friends and crew during the season. You share equally hilarious tales of your own coming-of-age mishaps as an overeager teenager.

At some point, you both reach for your long-empty dishes simultaneously, fingers brushing in a spark of contact that sends your pulse stuttering. Charles doesn’t pull back, letting his hand linger outrageously close to yours as his warm gaze stays locked intensely on your face.

You try to swallow past a suddenly dry throat as the atmosphere shifts abruptly, suddenly heavy with the hot crackle of unmistakable chemistry and unspoken tension. But then, just like that, the moment passes as quickly as it came.

Your phone buzzes loudly in your pocket with a text, the notification startling you both back to reality. Charles sits back, clearing his throat slightly as you pull your hand away to quickly check the message.

It’s from your roommate asking when you’ll be home for dinner and if you need her to start cooking.

You glance up at Charles with an apologetic grimace. “I should probably head back. I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.”

He blinks rapidly before seeming to visibly shake himself. “Right, of course! Time really got away from us, didn’t it?”

You stand as Charles rises smoothly to his feet as well, shoving both hands casually in his pockets. “So ... I had a really great time with you today,” he says carefully, something almost hesitant flickering across his face. “And I’d love a chance to take you out again sometime soon, if you’re interested? Maybe grab dinner when I’m back in town?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the unmistakable request for an actual date. With Charles freaking Leclerc no less ...

Tamping down your sudden nerves, you nod slowly as a shy smile blossoms on your lips. “I’d really like that,” you admit truthfully. “Let’s definitely do dinner whenever you’re free.”

His whole expression brightens immediately at your affirmation, lips stretching in a wide grin of pure delight. “Perfect! I’ll be back from my next race in just over a week then. How about exchanging numbers so I can let you know as soon as I’ve returned?”

You quickly rattle off your number as Charles punches it into his phone before doing the same for you. As if sealing some unspoken deal, he sticks out his hand to shake yours, that warm roughened grip lingering perhaps a moment longer than strictly necessary.

“I’ll text you soon then,” Charles murmurs intently, that spark of heat flickering in his eyes again. “Promise me you’ll say yes this time.”

You can only nod mutely, mouth gone bone-dry at the pointed words and heated look washing over you. Charles maintains that blistering eye contact and heart-stalling grip on your palm for another loaded handful of seconds, leaving you dizzy with giddy anticipation.

Then, just like that, he releases your hand with one final squeeze before taking a step back, seemingly satisfied by your stunned agreement. Charles shoots you one last lingering look and crooked grin before turning to stride easily back the way you came.

You remain rooted in place for a long moment, utterly dazed by the entire surreal scenario as you watch his broad shoulders and narrow waist disappear down the narrow alleyway.

Today started out as any other nothing-out-of-the-ordinary spring day in your new home. But now … now you have an actual date scheduled with an unbelievably charming and disarmingly down-to-earth racing superstar.

A giddy giggle bubbles up from deep in your chest as reality finally settles in. Who could have ever predicted that bumping into your new acquaintance — quite literally — would lead to not only discovering the most heavenly gelato on the planet, but lining up a date with an internationally famous athlete?

Suddenly, your bright future studying in Monaco just got about ten thousand times more interesting …

***

The week passes by in a blur of anticipation after your initial meeting with Charles. You can barely focus during lectures, your mind constantly wandering to that charming grin and those warm eyes crinkling at the corners whenever he laughed.

Finally, the evening you’ve been eagerly awaiting arrives. You’ve just finished getting ready — pulling on a flowy sundress and brushing out your hair one last time — when your phone buzzes with a new text.

I’m outside whenever you’re ready for our date night. Looking forward to seeing you again 😘

You can’t bite back your giddy smile as you quickly reply that you’re heading out before taking one last steadying breath.

It’s just Charles … the internationally famous and absurdly handsome Formula 1 driver you’ve somehow managed to snag a date with.

No big deal at all.

The evening air carries a pleasantly cool breeze as you exit your apartment building, scanning the idling line of vehicles for Charles’ car. You spot him immediately, leaning against the gleaming metallic side of what you now recognize as an eye-wateringly expensive Ferrari.

Charles looks … unfairly gorgeous. He’s shed his athletic wear in favor of a simple white linen shirt and tailored slacks that somehow make him appear even more effortlessly suave. His hair is artfully tousled and damn if those clothes don’t accentuate every hard plane and corded muscle of his built frame.

You must be staring because suddenly Charles is pushing off from the car and straightening to his full height, those intense eyes crinkling warmly as soon as they land on you.

“You look stunning,” he murmurs appreciatively once you’ve drawn closer, making a show of trailing his gaze slowly up and down your figure. You’re abruptly grateful for the dusky twilight hiding your furious blush at the blatant admiration in his tone.

“Thanks,” you manage to get out without your voice shaking too noticeably. “You don’t look half bad yourself, race car man.”

Charles throws back his head with one of those deep-bellied laughs you’re quickly becoming addicted to. “Why thank you, gelato girl.” He shoots you a wink before surprising you by gallantly offering his arm. “Shall we?”

You take it without hesitation, reveling in the solid warmth of his bicep pressed against your side as Charles leads you to the waiting glossy black sports car. He opens the door for you like an old-fashioned gentleman, closing it carefully once you’re tucked inside the buttery leather interior.

The engine roars to life with a powerful rumble and you can’t resist shooting Charles an impressed look as he deftly maneuvers out onto the street.

“You know, I’m starting to think this little hobby of yours might not be too bad of a gig,” you tease lightly, waving a hand at the sleek interior compartment.

“I can’t complain,” Charles volleys back with a crooked grin, seamlessly navigating the tight turns of the old city. “Sometimes they even let me drive in circles really fast just for fun.”

You roll your eyes at his retort, but can’t quite wipe the smile off your face as Charles guns the engine, the car surging forward in a burst of speed and power. Clearly the man knows how to leverage any opportunity to show off those expert driving skills … not that you mind one bit.

Eventually, Charles pulls up in front of an unassuming doorway you never would have noticed tucked down a quiet side street. The understated sign above simply reads Trattoria Giovanni.

“This place has been run by the same Italian family for over fifty years,” Charles explains as he holds the door for you. “Best authentic cuisine in the city, but you would never find it unless you knew where to look.”

The interior appears to have been plucked directly from a rustic Tuscan villa — burnished wooden beams criss-crossing the curved ceilings and terracotta tiles underfoot. You breathe in deeply, savoring the mouthwatering aromas of garlic, tomato sauce, and fresh bread wafting from the open kitchen.

An older man with a thick mustache and crisp white apron greets Charles immediately in fluent Italian, ushering you both back to a cozy alcove table secluded in the very rear. He pours you both generous glasses of deep red wine before disappearing again with a conspiratorial wink in your direction.

“So, how was your race?” You ask between sips once you and Charles are alone, genuinely curious about the difficult career he’s managed to carve out.

He shrugs one broad shoulder almost dismissively. “Decent enough, I suppose. Grabbed another podium finish, but didn’t quite have the pace for the win.” There’s no disappointment or frustration in his tone as he speaks, just a simple statement of fact.

“I’m endlessly in awe that you treat accomplishments like that so casually,” you admit with a shake of your head. “Finishing in the top three in Formula 1 seems like the kind of thing most people would be over the moon about.”

Charles lets out a low chuckle at that, leaning towards you over the small table with eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well maybe I need to find a new way to impress someone like you then.”

You open your mouth to respond with a playful retort of your own, but Charles’ gaze has already strayed to somewhere past your shoulder.

“Ah, perfect timing then. Here’s Giovanni himself with our orders.”

Sure enough, the older man you spotted earlier bustles up with a tray overflowing with piping hot plates of food. He doles out the dishes methodically while rattling off a stream of explanations about preparations and ingredients that have clearly been passed down for many generations.

Everything looks and smells utterly divine — from the heaping bowl of glistening spaghetti blanketed in a simmering tomato sauce to the golden-baked chicken drenched in rosemary and olive oil. The endlessly affable Giovanni even sets down a small ceramic dish full of creamy pale cheese, patting Charles on the shoulder.

“The burrata for you and your lady friend. Freshly made this morning by my wife,” he declares proudly before whisking himself away again.

For the next blissful hour or two, you and Charles completely lose yourselves in this veritable feast for the senses. You savor each and every decadent bite — moaning around the pillowy strands of spaghetti and tearing off chunks of the crusty, herb-brushed breads to soak up the savory juices.

Charles, for his part, dives into the meal with just as much enthusiasm, occasionally reaching over to snag a bite off of your plate until you resort to smacking his wandering fork away between fits of laughter.

Stuffed and utterly content, you both eventually push away your long-cleared dishes to nurse the final sips of your wine as the evening stretches languorously on. You fall into these simple moments like an old habit by now — trading comfortable silences and contented looks between impassioned recounts of childhood anecdotes or musings about life.

Finally, as the candles on the small wooden tables begin to gutter and wane, Charles summons over your waiter to settle the check with a few murmured words and one of those knee-weakening smiles. Rising smoothly, he extends his hand in a wordless invitation for you to join him back out into the balmy evening.

This time, instead of heading for the car, Charles tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow before choosing a new direction — down a maze of narrow streets until you finally emerge along the harbor’s edge. Strings of twinkling lights reflect off the lapping waves while the soft strains of background music filter out from somewhere nearby.

“Feel like grabbing a little dessert to walk off that incredible meal?” Charles asks in a low murmur, bumping your shoulder conspiratorially.

You shoot him an incredulous look even as you nod. “You mean in addition to the literal feast we both just had?”

Charles tugs you closer to his side until your hips graze together as you match strides. “There’s always room for gelato,” he counters with an arched brow. “Besides, when in Monaco ...”

Any further protests die on your lips as Charles guides you around another tight corner to reveal that familiar cheerful gelato shop from your initial meeting. The old woman behind the counter greets you both like regulars already, no doubt thanks to Charles’ frequent patronage.

You maneuver through the small line until it’s your turn to order. “I think I’ll go with the tiramisu flavor this time,” you decide, mouth already watering at the prospect of that rich coffee and creamy goodness. “What about you? Mixing it up or still sticking with the basics?”

Charles shakes his head resolutely as he hands over a few crisp bills to pay for your treats. “Trust me, a heaping helping of simple vanilla is just as gratifying as all those overly complicated flavor combinations.”

You balk at his slander, bumping his shoulder with your own without any real heat. “How dare you insult my incredible palette like that?” You glare at him in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I have some of the most refined gelato taste in all of Monaco now.”

“Oh yeah?” Charles tips his chin down with a challenging smirk twisting his full lips. “Well what if I told you that vanilla is scientifically proven to be the most popular and beloved flavor in existence?”

“By who? Basic boring people?” You volley back mercilessly, eagerly leaning into the playful banter now. “If anything, those findings just demonstrated how sadly uncreative society at large is.”

Charles barks out a booming laugh as he grabs your hand and tugs you back out of the shop, gelato in the other. “You heathen! We’re clearly going to need to educate you on the finer points of flavor appreciation.”

Your eyes narrow dangerously even as you let yourself be lead to a nearby bench overlooking the gently lapping waves. “Oh, you’re on, Leclerc. Let’s see if your vanilla snobbery holds up after a taste of tiramisu heaven.”

You scoop up an exaggeratedly generous spoonful of the divinely rich, creamy gelato and make a show of savoring it with overstated moans of delight. “Oh my god, this is so good. Here, you have to try this! It’s life-changing.”

Charles wrinkles his nose even as you wave the spoonful enticingly in front of him. “Nice try but I would never cheat on vanilla!”

The two of you devolve into helpless laughter at that point, dissolving into breathless giggles over the ridiculous debate getting more outrageous by the minute. Finally, you relent in the battle, settling back into the cool metal of the bench and turning your face up to the inky sea of stars glittering overhead.

“You’re right though — sometimes simple really is best,” you admit finally in a softer tone, slowly licking another sweet bite off your spoon.

Charles hums in agreement next to you, shuffling closer until your arms brush together with body heat and contact. “The classics never go out of style.”

The next comfortable silence stretches out between you as you take your time savoring your treats while simultaneously drinking in the breathtaking view laid out before you. The water laps almost hypnotically at the shoreline, twinkling reflection of docked yachts bobbing gently on the calm surface.

A breeze skates across your bare arms, raising a faint ripple of goosebumps along your skin. Charles notices immediately, shifting even nearer until he can shrug out of the lightweight jacket he had been wearing.

Without a word, he swings the soft fabric around your shoulders, tucking it securely around your front. You burrow instinctively into the material, the lingering body heat and remnants of his cologne wrapping you up in an cocoon of soothing warmth and intoxicating comfort.

With your free hand, you toy idly with the collar until Charles’ arm comes up to curl around your shoulders, effectively enveloping you into his solid frame. You let your cheek tip onto the firm muscle of his arm as Charles squeezes you closer with a contented exhale.

Time becomes meaningless suspended in that perfect sea-side bubble, waves flowing rhythmically while you enjoy every last savored bite of your melting treats. You let the quiet inevitability of dropping your head onto Charles’ shoulder wash over you, his familiar cologne invading your senses until your entire world narrows to just him.

When Charles polishes off the final bite of his cone and you go to shift away, another cool gust skitters across the harbor. He tightens the arm curved around you, making no move to let you up or leave the cozy haven you’ve made.

“I could get used to evenings like this, you know,” he murmurs eventually, lips brushing the top of your head. “Just taking it slow and savoring each other’s company without a single worry or care beyond where to find the best gelato.”

You hum in sleepy agreement, luxuriating in the casual intimacy of having Charles wrapped so protectively around you. Part of you can scarcely believe how instantaneous and natural this connection has blossomed between you already. But another part feels like you’ve finally found your soul’s missing piece slotting seamlessly into place after stumbling around lost and incomplete for so long without ever realizing it.

The two of you remain suspended in that perfect, tranquil bubble for what could be minutes or hours more. You’ve completely lost track of any sense of time beyond the lullaby of the gentle waves and occasional murmur of Charles’ breathing ruffling your hair.

Eventually though, his stirring signals a slow return to the real world as Charles regretfully extricates himself from your entwined position with clear reluctance.

“I should probably get you back before your roommate starts to worry,” he says remorsefully as he slides off the bench to offer you a steadying hand up.

You accept it without hesitation, but can’t resist clinging to his jacket still cocooned around your shoulders, unwilling to shrug off that lingering cocoon of comfort and safety just yet. Charles notices, allowing a tiny grin to quirk one side of his mouth upwards as he takes in your refusal to part with it.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs with unmistakable heat in those hypnotizing eyes. “I may have to let you hang on to that one for a while.”

Your mouth goes abruptly dry at the blatant implications in his tone, but you manage a coy smile in return as you turn to make your way back towards wherever Charles has his car crookedly parked.

The streets are all but abandoned by the time you arrive at the discreet entrance of your apartment building. Charles hesitates a split second before rounding the front of the gleaming Ferrari to face you properly on the quiet sidewalk.

“Thank you for an incredible evening,” you say honestly, gazing up at his silhouette in the dim glow of the streetlamps. “I don’t think I can even put into words how special you’ve managed to make me feel these past couple weeks.”

His expression softens instantly. One calloused palm comes up to tenderly cup your jaw, tilting your face up towards his with feather-light reverence.

“The pleasure has been all mine, I assure you,” Charles rumbles in a low tone that steals your breath away. “I don’t think you’ll ever realize just how remarkable you are, ma belle.”

Your eyes flutter shut without conscious thought as his nose brushes yours. Charles’ lips glide torturously against your cheek leaving a blazing trail to the very corner of your mouth.

The softest, most infinitely gentle press of satin flesh on flesh and then he’s pulling back — his ragged exhale warm and intoxicating against your tingling lips. You chase his retreat on instinct, but Charles is already withdrawing further with clear reluctance.

“I’m afraid I don’t trust myself to take things slow quite yet if I stay,” he murmurs in a strained rasp, pupils blown wide and dark. “But I do hope you’ll allow me to make this our new gelato tradition from now on ...”

It takes you several faltering attempts to find your voice again, chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of that lightning bolt of affection. Finally, you manage a jerky nod, sliding one trembling hand over his where it still cups your cheek.

“I want that more than anything,” you confess in a hushed tone. “Just ... promise me we’ll see each other soon.”

He releases a shuddering breath of unbridled relief, dipping his forehead to rest against yours. “Soon,” Charles vows lowly. “I promise.”

You stare up into his earnest eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Charles’ lips quirk in that lopsided grin you already adore so much. “I’m counting on it.”

With obvious reluctance, he finally steps away, snagging your hand to press one last searing kiss to your knuckles that has your heart stuttering all over again. Charles holds your gaze as you carefully back away towards the entrance, unwilling or unable to fully turn your back until the very last moment.

You chance a glance over your shoulder as you reach the front doors. Charles is still there, unmoving in a pool of streetlight beside his idling Ferrari, hands shoved in his pockets as he tracks your every step until you’ve slipped safely inside.

Exhaling a shuddering breath, you lean back against the cool stone wall, fingers coming up to ghost across your still-tingling lips almost disbelievingly.

When you finally muster the courage to peek through the glass once more, Charles has moved to lean against the side of his car, head tilted back as he stares into the lobby with an unmistakable softness etched across those chiseled features.

You can’t resist pressing your palm to the pane in a gesture you know he’ll recognize. Sure enough, Charles’ intense gaze instantly snaps to lock on you from across the quiet street, expression melting into pure adoration and wonder. His lips shape the same promise he uttered just moments ago — soon — as your own quirk in a delighted smile.

One last impulsive spark of inspiration has you playfully blowing him a single kiss through the barrier between you. Charles catches the invisible token easily, hand flying up to press over that broad chest as he throws back his head with a laugh that you can’t hear but imagine with vivid clarity.

You stand there transfixed, drinking in every last detail of him — the effortless elegance he carries himself with, the striking planes of his handsome face, and those beautiful eyes glittering with a thousand unspoken promises under the streetlamps.

Finally, with your own vow to reunite pulsing between you, Charles slides behind the wheel of his car. The powerful engine roars to life, twin beams from the headlights sweeping up to briefly wash through the windows of the lobby in a silent farewell before he’s peeling away into the night back towards the glittering city center.

You remain at the entrance for several long minutes basking in the memory of Charles’ phantom embrace still clinging to your skin. Only once his Ferrari has faded into the distance do you finally turn towards the elevator up to your apartment — every footstep lighter than air in the wake of an evening that lived up to even your wildest dreams of romantic splendor.

The simple joy and humble pleasure of a perfect scoop of creamy gelato will always hold untold meaning now as the spark marking the start of something beautiful blossoming between you and Charles.

And, as you finally drift off that night with a permanent smile etched across your face, you know without a shadow of a doubt that no flavor in the world could ever compare to the sweet indulgence of a life together just waiting to be savored and explored.

***

The warm spring breeze carries the sweet floral scents of the Brera Botanical Garden through the air as you stroll hand-in-hand with Charles. His fingers are laced through yours, his thumb gently stroking over your knuckles. You can’t help stealing glances at his handsome profile — the defined jawline, those soft kiss-curled lips, those kind green eyes that always seem to be smiling even when the rest of his face isn’t.

“What are you looking at?” Charles says with an amused grin, catching you staring again. You just shake your head and squeeze his hand tighter.

“Nothing. Just admiring the view,” you tease. Charles laughs that bright, infectious laugh of his that never fails to make your heart flutter.

You come to a stop beneath a blossoming cherry tree, pale pink petals floating down around you. Charles turns to face you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Y/N … there’s something I want to talk to you about,” he begins, suddenly uncharacteristically nervous. You tilt your head curiously. “You know how passionate I am about racing, about Formula 1. It’s been my dream since I was a little boy.”

“Of course,” you nod, unable to stop a small smile. Charles’ love for motorsports is one of the many things you have come to adore about him.

“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Charles continues, taking both your hands in his. “And I’ve realized that I want to have something else in my life too. A … passion project, you could say. Something that’s away from all the spotlight and pressure.”

Your brow furrows slightly as you try to imagine what he could mean. Charles has spoken before about potentially getting more involved in charity work or environmentalism on top of his racing career. But the almost childlike excitement dancing in his eyes tells you this is something different.

“I’m going to open a gelato shop,” he blurts out finally. You blink dumbly.

“A … gelato shop?” You repeat slowly. Out of all the possibilities, that was definitely not what you were expecting.

“Yes!” Charles grins broadly, clearly delighted by your surprise. “Think about it,Y/N. What’s more perfect than gelato made right here in the heart of Milano? And I’ve already found the ideal location — a little shop just across the street from here. Can’t you just picture it?”

He starts gesturing animatedly, that bright smile never leaving his face as he outlines his grand vision. You can’t help getting caught up in his infectious enthusiasm, even if the idea still seems a bit random.

“I’m going to call it Lec,” Charles says with a proud smile. You let out an undignified snort of laughter.

“Lec? Like your last name?” You shake your head in amusement. He looks almost offended by your reaction.

“No, no, not just my last name,” he corrects you seriously. “Lec as in … our last name. Yours and mine.”

The words hang in the air as realization slowly starts to dawn on you. You open and close your mouth dumbly as Charles takes a deep breath, sliding off the path onto one knee on the ground before you. With shaking hands, he pulls out a small black box from his pocket and flips it open to reveal the most stunning diamond ring you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N Y/L/N … you are my world, my everything,” Charles’ voice is thick with emotion as he gazes up at you. “I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else by my side. I want to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night with you beside me forever.”

Tears are already welling in your eyes, one hand pressed to your trembling lips as you listen to the beautiful words.

“Will you ...” Charles’ voice catches in his throat and he has to clear it before continuing. “Will you do me the greatest honor and become my wife? Will you marry me?”

The last few words come out in a rush of breath. You’re vaguely aware of several other people in the gardens who’ve stopped to watch, but all you can see is Charles’ face — hopeful and vulnerable and so full of pure adoration for you.

“Yes!” You finally manage to choke out through your joyful tears. “Oh my god, yes! Yes of course I’ll marry you!”

Pure relief and blissful ecstasy bursts across Charles’ face at your answer. With hands trembling just as badly as yours, he eases the glittering ring out of the box and onto your finger where it nestles perfectly, the diamond catching the dappled sunlight.

Before you can even look at it properly, Charles is on his feet again, pulling you into his embrace and spinning you around in a deliriously happy circle. You cling to him, laughing and crying at the same time as he peppers every inch of your face with kisses — your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose.

Finally, inevitably, his mouth finds yours in a long, deep, loving kiss that has your knees feeling weak. You get lost in the warmth of his arms around you, the gentleness of his hands cradling your face, the tenderness of his soft lips moving reverently against yours.

When you finally part, you’re both smiling so much it almost hurts, foreheads pressed together as you share the same breath. Charles brushes away a few stray tears on your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“I love you so much, mon cœur,” he murmurs softly. You mouth the words back to him before stealing another lingering kiss.

Hand-in-hand once more, Charles leads you out of the botanical gardens and across the street. You come to a stop in front of a quaint yet sizable storefront, the windows covered in brown paper and a faded For Lease sign still hanging crookedly in the door.

“Here it is,” Charles says, gesturing up at the building with undisguised pride. “What do you think?”

You take it in slowly, trying to envision what the space might look like once renovated and filled with cozy seating and the alluring scents of freshly-made gelato.

You picture the two of you working side-by-side behind the counter when Charles doesn’t have a race, laughing and bantering as you serve up delicious treats for smiling customers.

It’s such an endearingly normal, domestic dream compared to the fast-paced frenzy of the Formula 1 lifestyle. But standing here with your new fiancé, it feels absolutely perfect.

“I think … I think it’s going to be incredible,” you lean into Charles’ side and wrap your arms around his trim waist. He responds by kissing your temple and pulling you closer.

“Just think,” he says happily, his warm breath ruffling your hair. “We’ll be the owners of the best little gelateria in all of Milano.

“Sounds like heaven,” you smile. “Just be sure to make plenty of hazelnut and tiramisu for me.”

“Done and done,” he promises solemnly. “Though you know vanilla will always be number one in my book.”

“Oh really?” You arch an eyebrow challengingly. “Is that so?”

Without warning, you loop your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a long, lingering kiss. You can feel him melting into your embrace, his arms snaking securely around your waist.

When you finally manage to pull apart again, you’re both slightly flushed and out of breath. Charles’ usually perfectly tousled hair is charmingly mussed from running your fingers through it. He looks at you with such naked affection and desire that your heart flutters.

“You know what?” He murmurs huskily, resting his forehead against yours. “I take it back. You’re definitely my favorite flavor. And I can’t wait to start this next chapter with you, mon amour.”

And with that promise lingering sweetly between you, Charles takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply once more, pouring every ounce of his devotion into the embrace.

You can taste forever on his lips.

When you finally part, grinning giddily at each other, Charles takes your hand and leads you back towards your next adventure. Whatever lies ahead, you know you’ll take it on fearlessly and joyously, side-by-side with the man you love more than anything in this world.

***

The reception hall is a whirlwind of joy and celebration as you take in the scene, your heart overflowing with love and happiness. The elegant decorations, the twinkling lights, and the smiling faces of your loved ones surrounding you all blur together in a beautiful haze.

You can scarcely believe this day has finally arrived — the day you’ve dreamed of for so long.

You turn to Charles, his warm green eyes sparkling with so much love, and your breath catches in your throat. He looks devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his million-watt smile making your knees go weak.

This incredible man is now your husband.

“Hey you,” he murmurs, taking your hand and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “Having fun, mon amour?”

A joyful laugh escapes your lips as you nod enthusiastically. “More than I ever thought possible. I’m just … I’m so happy, Charles. I can’t believe we’re actually married!”

He chuckles, that rich laugh that never fails to make you melt. “Believe it, Mrs. Leclerc. You’re stuck with me forever now.” His expression softens as he cups your cheek tenderly. “I love you so much. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You lean into his touch, savoring the moment. “I love you too, Mr. Leclerc. More than anything.”

A throat clears behind you, and you whirl around to see Arthur, your new brother-in-law, grinning mischievously.

“If you two lovebirds are done making everyone else nauseous, it’s time to cut the cake!” He teases, jerking his head towards the lavish gelato cake that sits on the dessert table.

Charles throws his head back with a laugh. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have someone as amazing as my wife to make gooey eyes at.”

Arthur rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Whatever. Get your butts over there before I eat the whole thing myself.”

With a wink at you, Charles takes your hand and leads you towards the dessert table, the crowd of guests parting like the Red Sea to let you through. Your heart does a little flip as the magnificent gelato cake comes into view — a towering masterpiece of creamy gelato in vanilla, hazelnut, and tiramisu, all artfully swirled together and decorated with fresh fruit and chocolate shavings.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper in awe, giving Charles’ hand a squeeze.

He pulls you into his side with a content smile. “Not as perfect as you.”

The crowd applauds as you approach the cake, and a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles rises up. Straightening your shoulders with a grin, you pick up the gleaming cake knife and lock eyes with Charles, suddenly feeling bold.

“Ready to do this, husband?” You ask with a teasing lilt.

His eyes blaze with undisguised desire. “More than ready, wife.”

Together, you slice into the towering gelato cake, the creamy filling oozing out and already making your mouth water. Once you have a generous slice on a plate, you scoop up a spoonful and lock eyes with Charles again, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

His pupils dilate as he catches your meaning, a low growl rumbling in his throat. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, mon cœur.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?” You take a step closer, holding the spoonful of gelato up temptingly.

Charles tips his head back with a groan. “You’re killing me here.”

“Good thing you have me to bring you back to life then,” you quip, pressing the spoon to his lips.

He opens obediently, letting you slide the gelato into his mouth with agonizing slowness. His eyelids flutter shut as the flavors explode over his tongue, and he actually moans — deep and guttural and utterly sinful.

A choked sound comes from somewhere in the crowd. “Oh please, get a room!” Joris, Charles’ best friend and best man, calls out with a mixture of amusement and mortification.

Charles doesn’t even open his eyes, simply raising one middle finger in Joris’ direction as he savors the last of the gelato. When his tongue finally darts out to catch a stray bit on his lips, you feel an unexpected flare of heat low in your belly.

Okay, two can play at this game.

Deliberately holding Charles’ heated gaze, you dip your finger into the gelato drippings on the plate and slowly, so slowly, bring it up to your lips. You let the very tip of your tongue dart out to catch the sticky sweetness, swirling it around luxuriously. His Adam’s apple bobs as he watches you, jaw tense.

That’s it.

You slip your finger into your mouth fully, hollowing out your cheeks as you suck the gelato off with an utterly obscene sound. Charles’ knees actually buckle, and he grips the table behind him for support, pupils blown wide.

“You are so dead,” he growls under his breath, low and dangerous.

Unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathy giggle, drunk with a dizzying cocktail of desire and sheer bliss. Charles takes a half step closer, his eyes burning into yours. You quickly scoop up another fingerful of gelato, desperate to keep pushing those buttons and draw out that delicious intensity.

But before you can bring it to your lips, quick as a flash, Charles is on you. He drags you flush against his solid form, his free hand cupping the back of your neck to angle your mouth up to his. The scorching kiss steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to his lapels for purchase.

When he finally breaks away, his eyes are blazing with unconcealed want.

“You missed a spot,” he rasps.

Then he’s ducking his head, and with one torturously slow lick, he clears the stray bit of gelato from the tip of your nose. The heat of his tongue on your overly sensitive skin makes you whimper.

The catcalls and whistles from your guests fade into white noise as you melt against your husband, lost in the endless depths of his hungry gaze. Screw being appropriate — you’ll give them all a show to remember if you have to.

“Fuck, I love you,” Charles rumbles, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire.

Before you can respond, he’s kissing you again — deep and thorough and all-consuming. You sigh into his mouth, bunching the fine material of his tuxedo jacket in your fists to pull him even closer. His hand slides from your neck into your hair, cradling your head reverently as he pours every ounce of his love and passion into the kiss.

An eternity later, he breaks away with a ragged breath, resting his forehead against yours. “I think it’s time to get out of here, don’t you?”

You can only nod breathlessly, already imagining the deliciously wicked things he has in store. As if in a trance, you allow him to take your hand and lead you towards the exit, shouting and wolf whistles following in your wake.

Just before you slip out of the hall, you hear Pierre Gasly’s teasing voice behind you.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two!”

Charles pauses only long enough to call over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“But there’s nothing you wouldn’t do!”

Then he’s sweeping you into his arms with a playful growl, carrying you into your new life together as man and wife. Peals of laughter and cheers chase you down the hall, but you only have eyes for each other in this perfect moment.

You’re married to the love of your life. You have forever with this incredible man. And if the wedding is anything to go by, forever is going to be deliciously amazing.

Literally.

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sitp-recs · 1 year ago

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15 21 fics where Draco takes care of Harry

Happy Weekend folks! The last reclist for this self-indulgent HBD Harry celebration week brings the trope we all love and deserve: Harry being taken care of! Let 👏🏻 that 👏🏻 boy 👏🏻 be happy! I’m really soft for this trope because it delivers delicious character development and emotional payoff. Harry deserves all the nice things and I love seeing Draco willing to provide it, whether in the form of physical comfort, protection, shelter, medical care or just good old diq. I wanted to follow the previous lists format but ended up with 20 fics which means I left a bunch out (my first draft had around 30 🤡). As usual I tried to include both classics and hidden gems, and especially some that aren’t in the other lists. Enjoy!

Ceremonials by @jackvbriefs (NR, 4k)

“What are you doing here?” Harry said. This Malfoy blinked up at him, then lifted the bottle of tequila. “I’m teaching you how to make a drink.”

Is This Love? By @phdmama (E, 4k)

Draco wouldn’t call himself a tender man. He fights the forces of evil for a living, trying his best to pay penance for the evil he’s done. He’s fought and killed in the name of duty, and when he’s not on duty, he tends either to play hard or retreat alone. He doesn’t lean on anyone, and he knows he’s not the first person anyone goes to when they need care. Comfort. That all changes tonight.

It Never Occurred to Me That I Would Fall in Love With a Frenchman by lamerezouille (T, 6k)

Harry kisses Draco in a public place. All hell breaks loose.

Unseen by astolat (M, 11k)

When he wasn’t wearing it, he got jumpy, always waiting for someone to come at him wanting something—and now they did it even more urgently, if they ever saw him, because most of the time, nobody did.

Nice Things by aideomai (M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Lusimeles by spqr (E, 23k)

“You’re not special, Potter,” Kingsley informs him, not looking up from his work. “But I’ve already done Occlumency training!” Harry splutters, indignant. “And it’s Malfoy.”

just tell me when it’s alright by M0stlyVoid (E, 23k)

Harry’s been fighting tooth and nail for any bit of normalcy he can get his hands on. He’s sick of feeling like something’s wrong with him, tired of feeling different. He thinks he’s finally gotten to the root of it, and has settled into a routine that makes him happy. Naturally, that’s when Draco Malfoy walks back into his life and upends it once again. Has Harry bitten off more than he can chew with his former rival?

The Green Vial by @eidheann (E, 31k)

After months of seeing Harry Potter walk into his Apothecary disappointed and hopeless, Draco offers to carry the baby that Harry can't. Now he's just got to hide the fact that he's been half in love with Harry for years.

Expecto Patronum by @writcraft (E, 35k)

Harry Potter is the most sought after celebrity in wizarding Britain. His every movement is scrutinised, his relationships questioned and his photographs plastered over every paper. Harry's used to everyone thinking he’s a hero and has had plenty of time to learn how to keep his biggest secrets hidden from the press. As Draco Malfoy negotiates his feelings for the wizarding world's brightest star, he becomes increasingly attached to Harry and unravels the secrets he keeps hidden from the rest of the world.

(Un)wanted by @aibidil (E, 36k)

Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.

Breathe In (and Feel No Hurt) by Constance1 (T, 38k)

A tale of love, loss, and of finding hope again. Or the story of how Draco turned into a house-cat in order to secretly bother a depressed Harry Potter until he was no longer feeling sorry for himself.

Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (E, 50k)

When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected. Harry is struggling with something, pushing it far down inside him where he doesn't have to acknowledge its existence. Draco starts to worry, and then he starts to care, and then... horribly... he starts to fall in love.

Sweeten to Taste by @saintgarbanzo and @babooshkart (E, 51k)

It starts with Draco's buckwheat crepes with honeyed oranges. Or maybe it starts with his porridge with toasted walnuts and homemade apple butter. Or perhaps it starts with the cinnamon buns Draco made from scratch with mascarpone icing. Harry just knows he's hungry for more.

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k)

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature…

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

A Thousand Beautiful Things by geoviki (M, 100k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion (E, 131k)

Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (T, 300k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness.

#Sitp recs #Drarry reclist #caring draco #hbd Harry week

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thebetawolfgirl · 1 year ago

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The Chanel Ribbon part 3 (Final Part!)

Pairing: Timmy/Reader

Word count: 2,535

Summary: The whole story from Timmy’s POV

Warnings: Serious smut!

A/N: The final part. I wanted to do one from Timmy’s POV!

The Chanel Ribbon pt 3

Timothée had been in love with y/n since the day he saw her across the room at an after party and she was asked to sing by the host. She had a voice like an angel, no angels would sound like cats being strangled to death compared to his y/n. She was beautiful, smart and so kind and compassionate towards others, he had never met anyone like her before. Sure he had been with lovely women but they were nothing next to y/n.

They went on a few dates and she was careful with him at first because she told him she had been hurt in the past and used for her status, Timothée promised to spend the entire time they spent together proving that he wasn’t like those other animals that broke her heart.

They had been dating since the beginning of 2019 and she had started to trust him before long and let him into her heart and he protected her and her heart like a precious jewel. They went steady during 2021 after the pandemic started to calm down a bit and they could see each other more. That whole year during lockdown was the most hardest thing he had ever done. He missed her so much and it was like he had lost a limb.

When his grandmother died and she actually flew out to London to be with him from the other side of the world he knew, he knew she was it for him. She was the woman he would spend the rest of his life with and start a family with some day. So he spent that full year having a designer custom design an engagement ring for him then he spent another six months planning the perfect proposal.

The day he was talking to the greatest Hollywood director of all time he couldn’t stop thinking about y/n. After the interview Mr Scorsese asked him if he was alright. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve just been thinking about my girlfriend y/n, I’m just wondering what she’s doing right now, if she’s eaten yet. She’s appearing on Fallon tonight to promote her new album and I just want to text her and wish her good luck and-

‘Just to hear her voice’ The old man finished his sentence with a knowing look and a smile.

Timothée nodded smiling chuckling and looking down. ‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Is this young lady a musician did you say?’

Timothée nodded

‘Y/n y/l/n?’

Again, Timothée nodded his eyes sparkling.

‘Don’t ever let a love like that go’

Timothée nodded ‘Never, Sir never!’

Later on at the private Chanel dinner Timothée couldn’t keep his mind off y/n, his friend Kid Kudi gave him a Red Bull to help calm his nerves but it only made him more jittery and a bit giddy. He decided he couldn’t wait for the perfect moment to propose, he wanted y/n to be his fiancée NOW. So with his mind spinning from the Red Bull he snuck out the back door and hurried down the street to the few blocks to the studio that hosted the Fallon Show. He was a native New Yorker so he took all the backstreets and alleyways to get there quicker. He arrived at the studio and asked one of the people backstage he had to see y/n y/l/n immediately.

They had already been seen out together but just as ‘Friends’ no one knew they were a steady couple.

The staff member patched through to the host Jimmy Fallon saying Timothée Chalamet was here to see y/n, Timothée was getting more and more jittery and hyper so by the time he walked on set to a confused y/n and Jimmy he was practically a rambling mess, he didn’t even notice the large audience watching them both.

‘Timmy, what’s going on? Is everything ok?’ She had turned her mic off which he was grateful for. Because he really giddy now.

‘I needed to see you and speak with you’ he muttered talking quickly fiddling with his necklace. Oh God she was wearing the Chanel ribbon around her hair from the gift bag he bought her.

No Timmy concentrate you’re here for a reason, Timothée’s inner monologue began in his head as she pulled them behind the curtain excusing them to Jimmy and the audience that he just noticed.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry I had this all planned out for months and it was going to be perfect but I couldn’t wait any longer and now I feel stupid and- there’s an very large audience out there!!’ He squealed in a hushed tone glad he refused a mic his eyes going wide.

He was still gaping at the audience from their hiding place behind the curtain when he felt her hands on either side of his face and he nearly melted right there at her touch and met her eyes and her beautiful smile.

‘My answer is yes, but you will do this the way you planned because I INSIST you have YOUR moment with this. And you’re not proposing to me backstage at the Jimmy Fallon Show’ She giggled and he looked at her ribbon and touched it gently unable to believe she actually wore the ribbon as well as the bracelet that was in the bag. He moved slightly towards her lips to kiss her while attempting to remove the ribbon, he was in such a daze being around her he hadn’t noticed she was pushing him back until he hit the wall knocking him out of his daze and grabbed his wrist before removing the ribbon herself.

He watched her intently as she began to tie the ribbon around his wrist tightly whispering ‘Everyone saw me wearing this ribbon in my hair tonight, even Jimmy commented on it.’

His breathing hissed as she tied it tightly around his wrist below his pulse point and he smiled slightly at what she was doing. ‘Now I will return to the stage without it, and you will return to your dinner and be seen leaving the hotel wearing my Chanel Ribbon on your wrist.’

She finished tying the ribbon into a perfect bow her head bowed over his arm before raising her head and laying it on his shoulder smiling and looking at him. He nodded smiling back before pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. She raised her head and deepened the kiss and he held her waist before she pulled away completely. ‘The aftermath should be fun.’

They both smiled at each other and went their separate ways. Him back to the party and her to her interview.

When the dinner was over he went outside to meet his fans and sign autographs and everyone commented on his new accessory and how they also saw a certain musician wearing an identical ribbon in her hair. He just smiled and bid his fans goodnight and drove home.

The next morning he woke up to the smell of food and the sound of his phone blowing up, he smiled stretching and reaching for his phone and looked at all the comments.

*Timotheè Chalamet seen wearing a Chanel Ribbon around his wrist he didn’t have when arriving at the Chanel dinner.*

*Y/n Y/l/n was seen wearing an identical ribbon on the Tonight Show but wasn’t wearing it when she returned onstage after Timothée Chalamet came to see her halfway through the interview*

The gossip columns were funny and the fans on both sides were going crazy. Timmy put his phone down again and went towards the amazing smell of breakfast being cooked by his beloved. Once he calmed down last night he decided he would stick to the original plan for his proposal to y/n. Even though he couldn’t wait he wanted it to be absolutely perfect for her. She deserved the world and so much more.

He found her standing in front of the cooker looking through her phone smiling at the screen while the food was cooking. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind pressing chaste kisses along her shoulder. ‘Good morning, something smells good.’

She smiled back at him tilting her head slightly toward him. ‘The breakfast or the gossip?’

Over the coming days and weeks they both shared the ribbon between them and found new ways to have it on their person. Timmy would wear it around his wrist, on his car keychain and even on his backpack if he had it with him. Y/n would wear it in her hair, around her wrist, she even wore it as a choker when out with friends one night. That got him excited when he saw the photos online.

After he used it to tie her to the headboard of their king size bed, he wondered how she would use it for her turn tonight.

He came home early after a long meeting with his management, exhausted and weary. His new PR Team were the most boring people he had ever had the displeasure of being in the same room as. They had put him with Kylie Jenner for a PR thing, they actually thought he would think this a genius idea. What was he going to talk to her about? He didn’t know anything about what it was she did.

All he wanted now was to lay in his beloved’s arms and hear about her day.

He opened the door and was surprised to see the entire house bathed in candlelight.

‘Oh.’ He whispered looking around and closing the door behind and walking further into the house. ‘Y/n? Are you here?’ He heard a noise behind him and went to turn but gentle hands stopped him. Before he could speak he heard her soft voice at his ear ‘Welcome home my love.’ She began rubbing his shoulders massaging them. He sighed and let his eyes close and his head fall back when she took his hand leading him into the bedroom. ‘I have a surprise for you’

Thankfully the candles were tea light candles so they would go out themselves once the wax was gone,

He wrapped his arms around her waist as he followed her to their bedroom which was all in darkness. She gently guided him towards the bed and began undressing him, when he tried to help she moved his hands back to her waist and whispered against his lips ‘No, tonight I take care of you’ his breathing hitched as she reached under his sweater to remove it and her fingers brushed his skin. The room was still pitch black with the door shut and he could only see her eyes sparkling in the dim light from the window. She removed his sweater then his jeans before pushing him gently back onto the bed he backed up towards the pillows as she crawled over him kissing every inch of him all the way until their eyes met and they were level with each other. He could just make out her smiling at him before she kissed him again then moving along his jawline down to his neck. He moved to lay his hands on her waist when she took his arms and rested them above his head near the headboard where he felt the satin of their ribbon.

He smirked in the darkness and didn’t resist keeping his arms above his head and waited patiently as she restrained him to the headboard. Once she was done, she moved back down and kissed him again before moving away from him and off the bed completely. He groaned at the loss of contact until he saw her turning on the fairy lights around the room to give them some light, he could see now in the dim light she was wearing his favourite dress he bought her. It was a simple green dress he picked out for her when he was going through some financial stuff and he couldn’t afford to buy her a fancy dress. He couldn’t believe she kept it after all these years.

He watched her undress slowly in front of him his boxers getting tighter on him, when she crawled back to him until she was on top of him. She leaned down and kissed him again her long hair falling around them like a curtain and started grinding her hips against his. He struggled against the ribbon, feeling the satin rubbing against his skin and kissed her back more feverishly. She broke the kiss and moved back to remove both their constricting underwear before coming back to kiss him and lowering herself down onto him until he bottomed out inside her. He groaned against her mouth and started moving his hips against her to tell her she could move. She held on to his shoulders as she began to ride him. He felt her open her mouth against his and he deepened the kiss meeting her thrusts with his hips. He wanted to hold onto her but he was still tied to the bed with the ribbon and he didn’t want to rip it. Although if the bed continued to rock like it was doing the knots keeping the ribbon attached to the headboard would come loose on it’s own. Y/n broke the kiss to breath and they both buried their face in the other’s neck as she took hold of his tied hands and tangled their fingers together.

Timmy whispered breathlessly into her ear ‘Untie me I need to hold onto you my love’

She made quick work of the ribbon and freed his wrists, and he pushed them both to sit up and rammed his hips upwards repeatedly. He heard her gasp and grip his shoulders leaving nail marks on his skin before grabbing fistfuls of his messy hair as he dragged his fingers up and down her back and buried his face in her neck nipping and kissing the skin there and leaving marks. ‘I’m nearly there, love. Come with me’ he gasped in to her ear panting hard when they both came and all he were fireworks behind his kids and he could hear her moaning and convulsing against him. He fell backwards pulling her with him drenched in sweat feeling the bedsheets tangled around their waists and legs.

He could feel both their heartbeats against his chest and he smiled trying to catch his breath as he looked down at her as her eyes were fluttering open and shut. He pushed her hair back from her eyes watching her smiling at him.

‘Love you’ He whispers against her temple before he reaches for the small remote and turns off the fairy lights and sees his wrists ‘Now YOU can explain to MY mother’

She smiles sleepily ‘I’ll tell her you were being naughty’

He looks down at her in shock before chuckling softly ‘Go to sleep’

He got comfy pulling her closer against his side placing a chaste kiss to her lips and closing his eyes with a final thought in his mind.

Yes, she’s definitely the one for me.

@sufferingstarlight

@lixzey

@kteezy997

@gatoenlaciudad

#lil timmy tim #timothèe chalamet #timothée hal chalamet #timothee icons #The Chanel Ribbon #timmy x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet smut #smut

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shuuen-no-cimory · 5 months ago

Note

what districts would LIs even be from? or at least which one of them would be from nests?

like I'm pretty sure whitney grew up in backstreets, and with how clueless sydney is i'd almost call them a nest dweller

...on the other hand, we already have the city's Britain...

Crack my fingers and open your eyes. I'm gonna write about this in FULL THROTTLE as I've been thinking abt all this for THE WHOLE MONTHS.

WARNING: some aspect might spoil any of the lore related to both medias That's an interesting question... Personally I do think they all collectively came from District 20 LOL BUT YES, defo Whitney came from Backstreet, District 20 nonetheless. I can already imagine them ever joined Dead Rabbits at some point if they didn't decide to enter any Wing or pursue higher education (as per Vrel ever mentioned how Whitney might wants to be a doctor.) Robin... I personally enjoy the idea of them coming from District 12's Backstreet when Lobcorp. still running as the Wing. Or maybe D22 where Vergilius orphanage is on. Ok no, I'm joking, that's gonna be a bit painful but kinda interesting scenario alright. Other possibility I have in mind is that Robin might be living in District 21's Backstreet, right at the coastal area that's under Middle's control. In this scenario, Bailey themself might be someone involved with The Middle. Probably a Big Brother/Sister. As for Sydney, I could imagine them came from Nest K, or at least Backstreet area in D10 that's under Dieci Association's control. This can play into an interesting scenario of how Sirris (who I could see might be working for K Corp. or any high school in Backstreet 10) met their partner, which I can already see very fitting to be part of Dieci. Oh on the side note, River is defo a Dieci alright. That fist filled with knowledge say it all LOL Kylar... ISTG I can't not imagine him as Edgar Linton HFVJSFVHSD but yes, they might be a rich Backstreet dweller but with family involved/under the protection of/influenced by The Ring. Or hell... What if they're involved with Church of Gears instead. That'll be pretty fun idea to think of... Alex... I can imagine them to be on the well-off side of Backstreet dweller. As District 19 is under S Corp. that run in agro-industry bizz, I might put them here. HOWEVER, seeing how adamant many people wants to leave District 19 (Yi Sang, Blade Lineage), it's a little hard to imagine them staying on District 19 either. Though I might change this once Don's Canto drop, which could possibly take place in either District 20 or District 19. As of now, I can think they might be coming from Backstreet T, probably on the same area where The League of Nine used to live on. ... Which then also make Remy possibly a D19 dwellers as well! However, I can see them as one that's backed out by syndicates instead. A big shot one, that is. Move on to Avery. Definitely some hot shot in T Corp., could be Class 5 worker. Them being 'interested' in science (or that's how they claimed to be when we met them as PC for the first time), rich, gaudy, and all that kinda scream a Feather to me. Could be one that involved with some Syndicate as well. The Thumb, perhaps...? Oh, as I write this, I found that northern area of the City supposed to be a lot richer and developed. That might be where they came from too. However we couldn't make any assumption yet as this part of the City hasn't get much attention from any of the game/media. With how keen they're to stay out of The Town, can I say Eden might be Outskirt dweller...? Maybe someone who used to be someone from the City but decide to pull off? Perhaps even might be someone that ever put some hands on The Light project while not directly took part of the group. I can imagine them as someone living on the outer area of Black Forest, alright? Like, maybe someone that knows about the Three Birds and been telling people off. Maybe in Ruina era, they ended up joined the Library once it got yeeted to Outskirt lol who knows. AND OF COURSE, we couldn't talk about LIs without talking about the beasts! Both Great Hawk and Black Wolf is under Site X-394 trust me. I can already see them on Outskirt, alright. Probably not on the same part of Outskirt as Eden but still around that area.

AND WHILE WE HAVE FINISHED THE LIS, I might as well talk about some of the People of Interest as well. THERE'S TWO THINGS I CAN THINK OF ABOUT WINTER: Either a Claw/Arbiter, or someone that used to take part in Smoke War or the War between Wings. If he was a veteran of Smoke War, I can see them on the winning side, or someone that's ended up like Salvador. Perhaps they might be retired fixer too, an Ex-Dieci that used to be the one who did Ruins-delving to retrieve Relics. Wren is defo someone who visit Backstreet J often, might even be District 9 dweller. They might be one with a Nest permit but not really living on the Nest themself. Hell, they could actually run a bizz on Nest as a way for them to smuggle things to-and-from Backstreet J. Though them as part of a pirate syndicate that deals more in smuggling bizz is a good possibility too, alright. Zephyr is, clear as a day, as part of pirate syndicate OR sailor ship akin to the Pequod in either of the coastal districts. I can see them as part of the Twinhook, though they might run their own syndicate instead. I have two ideas for Ivory Wraith in mind, according to "which" we're talking about. As an actual person, Ivory might be part of Index who had a clash with Church of Gears and fallen victim. However if we talk about them as the Spirit, I can imagine them as something like Bloodfiend. In a way, a nonhuman born out of Distortion-esque phenomenon. Harper... What can I say about them but Dongrang? LOL. I just can imagine them as a big shot on K Corp. that's close to who Dongrang is. Someone influential enough to be taking care of Teary-Thing. Yeah, something along that line... If not, they might run their own clinic that provides healthcare, but of course with whatever The City-esque business backed it. With the new Dieci Association updates I can confidently say that Jordan is, without doubt, a Dieci's Saint, at least on Section 4 or 5. If not, at least he's at the same level as Dieci Meur. One thing for sure, Niki definitely NOT from District N. They'd disappear as soon as they whip up a camera. N Corp and its Taboo is just something... As for the others... I have no idea yet, but maybe I'd came up with one later on!

#DoL #Project Moon #We making This Town into The City folks #Degrees of Lewdity

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bellysoupset · 1 year ago

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Halloween Saga - Part 3 - Jonah & Wendy

Warning, there's a the t- slur used down there, during a fight. It's not fully enunciated, but it's implied. (it's said by a random asshole, none of the OCs, don't worry)

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"I know what you did," Leo whispered darkly, wrapping his arms around Jonah's shoulders from behind and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Jonah let out a chuckle, still bobbing to the tune of the song, hand wrapped around his drink, "last summer?"

"What?" Leo blinked at him, confused, before once again pressing his temple to his, "no, tonight, this."

"You're drunk," Jon grinned, turning his head to kiss him, "I have no idea what you mean."

"I might be drunk, but I'm also right," Leo scoffed, but he was smiling. Jonah leaned back, melting against his chest and moving them to the rhythm of the song. Across the room he could see Bella, Wendy, Barbie and Megan dancing together. He had watched, more than an hour ago, as Luke had a minor fight with Bells, then promptly vanished from the party. What a baby.

"I'm hungry," Leo mumbled, voice muffled by Jonah's shoulder and he chuckled, draining the rest of his drink.

"I told you the weed gummy bears were a bad idea before the party," he berated lightly and Leo huffed, pulling back.

"I'm not even remotely that stoned," he rolled his eyes, removing his striped beret and combing a hand through his hair.

Jonah grinned, turning around and fiddling with his collar, smoothing it out, "you look really hot tonight."

"Yeah?" Leo smiled brightly, "good to know, I'll wear polos more often then. You want anything to eat? I'm gonna go track the food down."

"No, I'm drinking," Jonah raised his cup, now empty, "go ahead."

"Alright," Leo pressed another kiss on his cheek, "I'm go, all by myself, find food... Since my boyfriend refuses to feed me-"

"Get out of here," Jonah couldn't help but laugh, shoving him off. He could still see Leo's shoulder shaking with a giggle as he moved through the crowd and disappeared.

Alone once again, Jonah moved to the other side of the room, filling up the large plastic cup he was holding back to the top with an energy drink plus vodka drink.

He was halfway through it, more than a little drunk now, watching the lights bounce off the crowd when Wendy wrapped her hands around his red jacket.

"Come dance with me!" she squealed and Jonah put up the obligatory fight, leaning his weight back.

"Wen, I'm soo drunk-"

"I don't care!" she yelled again, bouncing on her feet. The fairy costume truly fit her, Jonah thought with a chuckle, noticing the glittery wings flapping behind her, "c'moooon..."

She tugged on his jacket with a little more force and he let out a sigh, chugging the rest of his drink and then planting the plastic cup back on the table, letting her pull him into the crowd.

Bella opened a big, glowy smile under the purple lights when Wendy exclaimed "look who I found!", pulling him by the hand.

"You know this one?!" Bella screamed over the noise and Jonah scoffed. Did someone not know Monster Mash?

He got squeezed between Bella and Wendy and soon all inhibitions melted off of him. They danced to Monster Mash, then Triller and then two other songs he had never heard and were more rock n' roll. Bella grabbing his bicep and making him jump along with the beat, before they got down once again, as Everybody by Backstreet Boys started playing.

"Am I the only oneEEE!" Wendy screamed along the lyrics, arms up her head and Jonah got down a knee, pointing at her as he sang back "YEAAAH!"

She started laughing, wrapping her arms around his neck, so he hugged her waist and spun them around, before letting her down just as the "ooh ooh ohh!" part of the song started.

He stumbled to the side, grabbing on the wall as they made their way back to the drinks table and Wendy followed suit, Bella trailing behind, still jumping along with the beat.

"Here, here-" he served him and Wendy a drink, but before he could serve Bell, another guy shoved himself in front of Jonah. He had never seen that dude in his life, but he was holding out two plastic cups.

"Excuse me," Wendy giggled, leaning her head against Jonah's shoulder. He took a big gulp of his drink, barely tasting the alcohol, but feeling it land like a brick in his stomach, "who the fuck are you?"

Jonah snorted in his cup, looking around the room. He tried and failed to locate Leo. In fact, he couldn't locate anyone, his eyes refused to focus in one thing.

The room was twirling.

He sipped his drink, pushing back the sickening sweet taste in his mouth and catching just as the blonde dude, who was dressed as a vampire and had green ends to his hair, made a pass on Bella.

She let out a snort, rolling her eyes, "I'm really not interested-"

"Oh, c'mon, I'm in the band..." the dude, whatever was his name said and Jonah groaned loudly, draining the rest of his drink.

"Catch a fucking hint, she said no," he said, poking the man between his ribs, and was zeroed in by furious blue eyes.

"Who are you, her boyfriend?"

"No-"

"Then mind your fucking business," the blonde said, turning back to Bella, who had raised her eyebrows in an unimpressed manner, still holding the drink he had planted in her hands.

"Ignoring what I'm saying and being rude to my friends? Damn Casanova, your game is impeccable," she leaned in and jammed a finger on the guy's chest, "go away."

The guy let out a huff, moving away with an "impertinent bitch." No sooner he had stepped aside, Wendy let out a drunken giggle.

"Impertinent bitch?" she echoed, shoulders shaking. Jonah wanted to laugh too, but he was having a hard time feeling his face. Suddenly he was paying way too much attention to how horrible his stomach felt, how his head was swimming.

"Jon?" Bella said and when he couldn't answer, just shake his head uneasily, trying to situate herself, he heard Bell say "here, hold this. Jonah, hey-" she stepped closer and grabbed his arm, "let's get you out of here."

"I can help-" Wendy started to say, which made Jonah frown. Help with what? He was fine, just a little dizzy and queasy-

"No, Wen, get back with the girls," Bella shooed Wendy off easily, "I got him."

"Are you sure?"

Jonah opened his mouth to tell them to stop talking about him like he wasn't there, but all he managed to do was let out a little hiccup and slam his hand to his lips, with a little more force than necessary. He groaned and Bella let out a chuckle, holding his waist.

"Alright, Jon, let's find a bathroom and maybe Leo too..." then to Wendy as they stumbled past her, "go have fun!"

He allowed his weight to rest mostly on Bella, glancing down at their feet instead of up, where the lights were changing and bouncing off people. The band had stopped playing by now, only Wendy's (or rather, Bella's?) playlist still going on, but people were far too drunk to care.

"Uhm..." Jonah tripped over his feet and Bella squeezed her arms around his middle. She was a full head shorter than him, but she was strong and he didn't feel like he might just accidentally crush her, not like he did with Wendy, "I might... I might've overdone it..."

"Might," Bella teased him, voice strained, but still with a smile on her face, "try not to puke yet, it's gonna be a hassle..." she maneuvered him around a decor piece - a group of skeletons posed as if they were dancing - and Jonah let out a moan, his head spinning.

"Bell... Fuck, hold on-"

"Just a sec, just a sec," she said quickly and then they stumbled backwards and Jonah nearly caused both of them to fall down as they entered the singular bathroom. Bella braced against a wall, grabbing his jacket and then she collapsed alongside him in front of the toilet, raising the lid just in time as his stomach squeezed.

Jon let out a groan as the drink he had just drunk made its way up, tasting just as horrible as it had going down. He almost missed the bowl, but Bella quickly grabbed his shoulders, letting out a drunken chuckle herself.

"Hey, hey, easy... Take a deep breath, just get this up," her hand, although sweaty, felt like heaven supporting his forehead and Jonah groaned again, this time out of humiliation. He hated to be this fucked up, but especially in front of the girls. The gentleman in him wanted to send Bella away, not that she would have moved.

"Get it up, you're alright," she rested a hand in the middle of his back and then sat down on the ground, despite the fact he thought it was disgusting, leaning her head back against a wall and removing the hand that was holding his forehead.

Jonah coughed, spitting the terrible taste off his mouth, and pressed his forehead to his forearm, "fuuuck... Ugh, I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine," Bella didn't sound even a little bit bothered, if anything there was still a giggle in her voice. She rubbed his back, "I was waiting for an excuse to get away anyway, so you turned green at the right moment."

"At your service," Jon scoffed, leaning back in and spitting again. His mouth was watering like crazy, "I'm so fucking dizzy, jesus."

Bella hesitated then, touching his cheeks as if checking for a fever, "like dizzy because you're drunk or dizzy because of your vertigo?"

"Drunk," he flushed away the evidence, planting a hand to his stomach and rubbing slow circled in it. It still felt like it was burning, "and vertigo doesn't give me a fever."

"Oh," Bella said, patting his shoulder and pulling back, grabbing a wad of toilet paper, "you done?"

"Uhm..." Jon shook his head, still feeling the terrible sweet sting in the back of his throat. His stomach churned again and he turned his face, a hand darting forward to brace against the wall as he heaved once more. It burned more coming up than it did going down and he coughed and spluttered for air, groaning when his nose started to sting too, "shit-"

"Here," Bella passed him the ball of tissue, then flushed the toilet again, "better?"

"Better," his voice was scratchy and his head was pounding, but Jonah was still in a pretty decent mood. He leaned back, resting his elbows on his knees and breathing out, "sorry you had to witness that."

"You're a much more elegant puker than Lucas," Bella winked at him, still sitting down. She ran a hand through her hair. It was already long when curly, but flat ironed like that, Jonah could see it easily reached her butt, especially when she was sitting down.

Bella yawned against her fist, "I should go deal with my silly boyfriend."

"Husband."

"Yeah, that," she rolled her eyes. Sweat had ran down her forehead, so a splotch of regular skin was showing under the face makeup. Jonah cleared his throat.

"Did you see my boyfriend around?"

"Not for a while now," Bella answered, getting up from the ground and offering him a hand. Jonah took it, then swayed forward and almost took her down with him, Bell's hands planted on his chest as she chuckled, "personal space, Dr. Banks?!"

"Shut up," Jon smiled, stumbling to the sink so he could wash his mouth, "I hope Leo didn't get into trouble."

"Who'd pick a fight with Leo?" Bella frowned, leaning against the sink, "he's like the sweetest person ever."

Jonah raised an eyebrow, terribly amused. Leo was so far from the sweetest person ever, but he was also really happy other's thought so about him.

"I guess," he said diplomatically, "but he's been gone for a while... Are you leaving now?"

"Yeah," Bella waited for him by the door, "have you seen Vince, by the way? I haven't seen him all night."

"Nope, he's probably somewhere with Luke."

"Lucas left, Jon," Bell said slowly, "a while ago... What the fuck is that?"

Jonah frowned at the change of her voice and followed Bell's concerned gaze, only to feel his stomach drop. Leo had managed to get into trouble alright, of course he had.

He was shoving the guy who had previously hit on Bella, the blonde one, back with one hand, the other one tightly wrapped around Wendy's waist...

"Wendy?" Jonah called, noticing she didn't seem to be ganging up with Leo, which would be surprising but at least regular behavior. No, she seemed... She seemed like she wasn't there at all, "Wen!"

He rushed ahead, just as Leo's grasp on Wendy started to loosen, so the blonde turned to hold her correctly and received a punch square in his jaw.

"HEY! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" Bella exclaimed, rushing behind Jonah. Leo let out a whimper, stumbling back and spat a glob of blood on the ground, just as Jonah grabbed Wendy from his arms.

Wendy who was fucking unresponsive. Jonah's heart jumped to his throat, not over the punch Leo had just sported, but because Wendy felt clammy to his touch, her eyes dazed and confused, "Wendy? Wen, hey, hey, wake up- Look at me-"

"He fucking drugged her," Leo scoffed, pointing to the guy before them. The blonde rolled his eyes.

"Oh yeah? Fucking prove it! She's just drunk-"

"She wasn't drunk," Bella glared at the guy, slotting herself between Leo and the man, shoving his chest "she wasn't drunk, we were just with her-"

"He was trying to drag her out of the party," Leo tattled, massaging his chin, only for Bella to let out a squeal as the guy shoved her back just as hard as she had done with him. Except he was good ten inches taller than her.

She stumbled back and Leo immediately grabbed Bell's shoulder, pushing her behind him, "don't fucking touch her!"

"You really think I'd have wanted to fuck that fucking tra-"

Bella let out an angry growl, getting under Leo's arm and then Jonah heard the loud noise of flesh meeting flesh. He looked up, from his crouched down position with Wen's head on his lap, just in time to see the blonde stumble back, cupping his cheek where Bella had just slapped him across the face.

Just in time to see him reach for Bell's hair and pull. Jonah blinked, still too drunk and confused, the blinking lights making it worse. He couldn't quite make out what happened next, Leo moving to help Bella and then more punching-

"Wendy... Fuck! Leave him alone, we need to get her to a hospital!" Jonah yelled, before deciding that fuck it, he could only do one of the two things, and Wendy's rapid breathing was far more urgent than Bella and Leo's throw down with that jackass.

He picked up Wendy, throwing her arms around his neck and trying to focus on the fact he was a doctor, this shouldn't be this terrifying... "Wendy, please, please, wake up-"

Jonah barely made out of the door, when he heard a loud crash. He turned around just in time to see Leo manage to knock the blonde musician out with a punch, his nose bleeding too- Bella stumbled back, wiping at her bloody mouth.

"Leo, I-"

"Go," Leo waved him off, "get her to a hospital, go. We'll wait for the police."

Jonah nodded, heart hammering away, split apart in worry. He got in the elevator, moving a hand up Wendy's clammy neck, pressing his fingers to her pulse. It was quick, but very present.

"Goddammit, Wendy..." Jonah whispered, hugging her closer, "Wen, c'mon, wake up..."

He made it to the parking lot, before realizing he was in no state to drive and hurriedly pressing the 0 button again, tapping his foot nervously.

In his arms, Wendy let out a little groan and Jonah's heart all but crawled up his throat.

"Wendy?! Wendy, hey, I'm here, it's Jon- Wake up, wake up-" he shook her lightly, patting her cheeks and she blinked awake, although still looking terribly out of it.

He noticed her eyes darting around the elevator, panic starting to form behind them and Jonah squeezed her a little tighter, "shhh, you're safe, I'm- The paramedics will be here soon-" he barely said that and the elevator came to a stop, so Jonah rushed out, barking "CALL 911!" to the front desk employee, hurrying to get Wendy lying down in the lobby's couch.

The front desk employee - Lauren? Karen? - was a woman in her early fifties, who clearly had been enjoying her night so far and nearly jumped out of her skin at Jonah's shout.

"What's wrong... Wendy?! Ms. Marshall-"

"Call 911!" Jonah exclaimed again, grabbing Wendy's armpits and pulling her half sitting up, just as she started to gag, "someone drugged her."

Vaguely he heard Karen-Lauren calling the emergency, just as Wendy groaned, head lolling as if she couldn't support its weight. She let out an unhappy noise and Jonah cupped her cheeks, falling to his knees next to the couch, "hey, hey... Wendy, shhh- you're alright, okay? I'm here-"

Her shoulders hitched and he heard a terrible drowning noise, causing Jonah to jump back and tilt her to the side, as watery vomit rushed up her mouth and fell on the lobby's carpet, all over his red pants.

He couldn't be bothered to feel remotely nauseous, not when he could clearly tell Wendy was panicking, her eyes wide with fear, tearing up.

"On... jdh...Jee-" She tried to speak and his heart broke in a million pieces, anger starting to boil in his stomach.

"I'm here, I'm here," Jonah stroked her hair back, that had fallen off from her high ponytail, "help's coming, okay? Five minutes-"

"Here," Karen-Lauren pushed a paper cup filled with water in front of his nose, her hands trembling, "they told me to keep her hydrated-"

"Thanks," Jonah grabbed Wendy's chin when she tried to turn her head away, failing miserably, "I'm sorry, I know you feel horrible right now, but I need you to drink... Wendy, please-"

Tears started to stream down the corner of her eyes and Jonah felt damn near tears himself, "Wen, please, just a sip-"

He saw the red and blue lights before he heard the noise and Jonah barely glanced up as Karen-Lauren rushed to the let in the police.

Wendy let out another unhappy noise, hyperventilating as she tried to gather any control over her body.

"Son, we need-"

"Not now," Jonah immediately shrugged off the cop who attempted to touch his shoulder, "not now, I- Upstairs, last floor. There's people who can tell you what happened."

He heard some discontent noises, one singular cop staying back and looming over him, as Karen-Lauren explained Jonah had just gotten there and that the paramedics were on their way.

Jonah felt completely disconnected, still cradling Wendy in his arms, until help got there, just as the cops dragged Leo, Bell and the blonde guy from before downstairs. Jon caught his boyfriend's eyes just as he got in the back of the ambulance and Leo shouted "I'll meet you in the hospital, don't worry about us!" as the doors shut.

"Dr. Banks...Dr. Banks... Jonah!" Claire snapped him out of his trance, studying Wendy's unconscious face. She was asleep, now wearing a hospital gown over her glittery costume, IVs connected to her. Jon jumped on his chair and Claire planted a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down, "sorry, I didn't mean to startle."

"It's fine," Jonah rubbed his face. He wasn't sure how long had passed, his whole body felt stiff, "her toxicology exam got back?"

"Yeah," Claire cringed, "I don't think I can disclose this information with you-"

"Claire," Jonah sighed tiredly and she winced.

"Let's just settle for you were right," she said quietly, also looking at Wendy, "happy I missed the party now."

"Uhm," Jonah let out a humorless huff, "did the front desk call her emergency contacts?"

"You mean you?" Claire wrinkled her nose, "they phoned Vince too. He should be here soon."

"Good," Jonah squeezed his neck, "I have to find out if Leo got arrested..." he leaned in, pressing Wendy's knuckles to his lips, "shouldn't she be awake by now?"

"She's really tiny, Jonah, it's gonna take a bit to get the drug out of her system," Claire said carefully, "did you-" whatever she was going to ask was interrupted by Vince's loud voice in the corridor, going "Wendy!? Wendy!?"

Jonah moved up from the chair he was occupying, just as Vince stumbled through the room's door.

He was a sight to be seen, half still in costume, half out. He had missed the hook and then coat, but was still wearing the boots, the red vest and the frilly shirt, looking like a complete distraught mess.

"Wendy... Shit, what- What happened..." he skipped forward, practically trampling over Dr. Claire and rushing to Wendy's side, eyes scanning her face.

Claire grimaced in sympathy, "I'm gonna go, press the button in case you need anything..."

Jonah circled the bed, so Vince could take up the armchair and offered him a tight, painfully sober smile, "she got roofied by one of the band jerks."

"What- Why... Is she gonna be okay? Why is she still asleep?"

"She'll be fine," Jon reassured his friend, surprising himself with how sure his voice sounded since he had been asking that same question five seconds before, "her body just needs to burn through the drug, it'll take a couple hours."

"Fuck," Vince whispered, leaning in to kiss his girlfriend's forehead, a string of curse words in Italians slipping under his breath or at least what Jon thought were curses.

"Where were you...?"

"I..." Vince sniffled, clearing his throat, "I left with Luke, he- Fuck, fuck I shouldn't have left. I shouldn't have left her alone-"

"No, don't do that," Jonah frowned, glaring at him, "this wasn't your fault and she wasn't alone. We were right there with her. The only one to blame is the asshole who drugged her."

"The assh- Did someone touch her?" Vince blurted out, paling considerably, "Jon, did anyone fucking touch her, I swear to God-"

"No," Jonah shook his head quickly, "no, Leo saw the guy trying to drag her out, he jumped in. Nothing happened, I promise."

Vince let out a relieved sigh, once again planting a kiss on Wendy's temple, pushing a strand of hair away from her eyes, "Honey, I'm so so sorry..." he whispered, then said quietly, but seriously, without bothering to meet Jon's eyes, "I want the guy who did this to her dead."

Jonah flinched at his tone, suddenly a lot more nervous, "he's gonna get arrested, if Wendy presses charges. They have her toxico-"

"I didn't say arrested," Vince said coldly, before kissing Wendy's brow again and dropping the subject.

TBC

#mywriting #sickfic #emeto #drunk #angst #violence #drugs #jonah banks #wendy marshall #the fic in which Jon is reminded that Vince is NOT a teddy bear

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capypub · 1 year ago

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Alaska's Nice This Time of Year, Right? - Mafia!Joel Miller Imagine

Mafia!Joel Miller x OFC

Rating: T (language, mentions of violence, jealous!Joel, fluff)

Summary: Joel can't help be a little jealous when his baby girl's at work. He handles it in typical Mafia!Joel fashion.

AN: Starting a little collection of blurbs that can be woven throughout my "Without Warning" Series, doesn't follow any specific order, just little snippets of life/scenarios.

Requests are open for anyone with a headcanon/idea! Smutty or non-smutty! I'm here for it all lmao

Without Warning Masterlist

Joel glared at the blonde man currently sitting in his girl’s section, having just come out of Tommy’s office, he went in search of his girl, knowing the bar would be closing soon and he could take her home.

“Everything good, sweetheart?” he asked, waiting by the service well for when she’d eventually have to come and pick up Mr.Backstreet-Wannabe’s refill.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she nodded, passing by him with a gentle brush of her fingers against his hand, subtle but enough to soothe his green monster.

He watched, perhaps a little too closely, as the man in question would stop her every time she passed his table, grabbing at her hand or waving her over with that stupid smile that made Joel want to knock his teeth out.

“Don’t go scarin’ my customers,” Tommy muttered, helping Jared close down as last call finally came around, having watched Joel’s agitation grow the longer he watched Indi work.

“Can’t be scared if he’s dead,” Joel grumbled, his fingers itching for his gun.

“She’s doin’ her job, man, don’t start shit where it’s not needed,” his brother tried to reason with him, coming to lean next to him behind the bar, watching as Indi dropped off a receipt at the man’s table.

As “Mr. Backstreet” stood up, he had to get one last shot in, it seemed, holding onto Indi’s wrist, obviously a little more than buzzed, as he animatedly used his hands to talk to her. She laughed at something he said, making Joel grind his jaw in frustration. The man then had the audacity to touch her waist, like he was trying to give her a hug, but she stepped back before he could get closer. The slight movement stirred some relief in Joel, but not much when Indi touched the asshole’s shoulder, smiling sweetly as she spoke.

“He’s not her type,” Jared said, passing Joel as he carried a fresh keg to refill the taps.

It didn’t help. Joel arched his brow, glancing at the younger bartender, looking unamused by the whole situation. The kid was alright, a little loud sometimes, but he kept an eye on Indi and respected both Millers, which was enough for Joel.

His dark eyes followed the blonde man as he left, looking a little unsteady on his feet but not stumbling around enough to raise concern. When his girl came up to him, holding her ticket book out to Tommy to count at the end of the night, she leaned into Joel, looking drained.

“Long night, baby girl?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her neck, holding her to his chest.

“Kind of, crowd was a little much tonight,” she muttered, pressing her cheek into his chest as she hugged him tightly, closing her eyes, enjoying his soothing touch as he rubbed her back.

“Saw your little admirer was tryin’ hard tonight. He give you any trouble?” he asked, trying to sound casual, but she immediately heard the change in his tone.

She smirked up at him. “You mean the college kid who wouldn’t leave?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Why? Jealous?” she teased him, biting her lower lip to keep from laughing.

He scoffed. “I don’t get jealous, sweetheart.” He gave her a pointed look. “I just don’t like trash touching what’s mine,” he shrugged, his grip tightening slightly for emphasis.

She laughed, bringing both her arms around his neck and craning up to kiss him. “You know he wrote his number on the receipt,” she said, amused.

Joel’s fingers flexed roughly against her hips. “Lemme see it,” he practically growled, the warm brown of his eyes darkening to nearly black at the thought.

“Baby,” she crooned up at him, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “He left a $2.50 tip on a $50.00 tab, he’s basically a walking red flag. Even if I were single, he’d still never have a chance.”

He scowled, knowing damn well that math didn’t add up. “That’s like…five percent of the bill?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Cheap fuck…”

She kissed his jaw, then his cheek and finally his lips, her touch soothing his jealous heart. “He wouldn’t even know what to do with me, my love.”

He smiled to himself, loving how she stroked his ego just when he needed it. “Is that right, darlin’?”

She nodded with a hum of agreement. “Need a big, strong man to keep me satisfied,” she continued softly against the shell of his ear.

He scoffed, knowing she was just fucking with him now. “That supposed to mean me?” he asked with an amused smirk.

“Of course, who else?” She laughed. “So…wanna take some of that frustration out of me when we get home? Let me remind you who I belong to?” she offered, her voice low and seductive, making him groan.

“Just might have to, sweetheart, right after I shoot that cheap asshole in the kneecaps…”

“Hmm, just don’t get blood on the bed sheets,” she murmured against his neck.

He smirked, loving how she would just go along with his threats sometimes, knowing he was smart enough not to actually follow through. And if he did, it was much more subtle, more strategic.

“Hands off my employee, she’s still on the clock,” Tommy interrupted them, handing her a stack of bills, her tip payout for the night.

“Fuck off,” Joel fired back, rolling his eyes.

While Jared and Indi finished the last of their closing duties, Joel and Tommy went into his office to discuss an upcoming trade. Tommy thought it was a bad idea. Joel insisted it was fine, knowing he’d be there anyway in case things did go bad.

The knock at the door had them both pausing. “Ready to go?” Indi asked. She’d thrown a hoodie over her uniform, her bag slung onto her shoulder.

“Let’s go, darlin’,” Joel nodded, standing from his seat, giving Tommy’ shoulder a squeeze in goodbye before following his girl out to his truck.

“Were you talking shit or talking shop?” she asked once he’d gotten the truck on the road.

He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re somethin’ else, baby girl. Got a job comin’ up, out near San Antonio, nothing too serious, but you know how Tommy gets after his injury.”

She hums in acknowledgement. “Should I be worried?”

“Not at all, baby, just doin’ some business,” he said, reaching across to take her hand and kiss the back of her knuckles like he often did while driving.

“Thought you might be reverse tracking that guy’s address or something,” she joked.

Joel smirked. “Ellie’s lookin’ into it for me. Alaska’s nice this time of year, right?”

“Joel!” she huffed in frustration, rolling her eyes. “Are you serious?”

“No, baby, you know I wouldn’t waste resources on trash like the sleazebags that hit on you at work,” he soothed her, kissing her palm and then her wrist affectionately.

“Okay…” she sighed, relaxing. “Good.”

He grins smugly. “I just have my boys snatch ‘em up for target practice…”

“Joel!”

And if Mr. Backstreet-Cheapskate somehow ended up getting a mandatory job transfer to Alaska for an indefinite amount of time, well, Joel didn’t know anything about that…

Without Warning Masterlist

#joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x ofc #joel miller fic #joel miller blurb #mafia!joel miller #joel miller au #joel miller one shot #last of us au #joel miller fluff

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digowrites · 11 months ago

Text

Lightning in a Bottle

&Team Fuma x OC

—5,391 words (please be nice)

“Sparklers? Really? Those are for kids.” He giggled at his girlfriend’s giant smile as she held out one of the unlit sparklers to him. They were at a fireworks show and her mom had handed her a lighter and some money to go buy some of the sticks for her and her boyfriend. Her mom encouraged them to go further up the hill so they could be alone and not have to be around the little kids and the parents.

“Yeah, but they’re fun and we can draw things in the air with them.” She continued to hold out the sparkler until he finally took it and held it out so she could light it for him. “There we go, now come on and have some fun. Not like we have forever.”

~~~

“Toni!” Vic shouted. He was tired of having to snap his vocalist out of a trance every time they practiced her oldest song. She had wanted to release it for years, but could never force herself to. “C’mon, we can’t keep having you leave us when you sing that song. You zone out after every time we play it and it’s setting us back further and further each time because something feels wrong.”

“Sorry Vic,” Toni never meant to zone out when she sang their oldest unreleased song. It happened sometime around the bridge, the part made for two voices instead of one. It would forever be incomplete, it was never created to be complete without a second person. “I know what’s wrong, I just . . . I can’t do anything about it . . . nothing can be done about it.”

Vic sighed and sat in front of where Toni sat, “I know you want to release the song, but can you? Maybe we should just test it at one of the concerts and see how it would even work live. It would give our fans a taste of it and it might make you finally feel like it’s complete.” Vic offered the solution, not knowing exactly why Toni couldn’t fix what was wrong with the song. He saw the others start to come back into the studio and stood. “Think about it, we have a few days until our concert in Osaka, maybe we could do it there.”

“Nia, hun you alright?” Evelyn, their bassist, asked in her thick southern drawl as she walked into the practice room they had to prepare for the concert. Toni just nodded as she stood, ready for another round of the set list. “How about we call it a day, Nia? You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, T.” Ghost, their lead guitarist, spoke up. “You look like you haven’t slept since we got off the flight. Maybe we should rest and take it easy for a day or two.”

Toni thought for a moment, only for the sheer exhaustion from the previous day to crash as hard as it could on her. “Yeah, that sounds. . . good. We should take a day and rest. I’m gonna go to the hotel and nap.”

~~~

“‘Rollin’ with the thunder, not take a breath we’re goin’ under

We’re gettin’ busy on the backstreets, we don’t need gravity, here in the afterglow’.” She sang as they both leaned over her notebook, staring at the lyrics she had written about their last date together. “How does that sound? Like with a super upbeat backing track and some hidden harmonies on one half of it?” She was hoping he liked it, it was a song for him anyway.

“That’s fantastic, but what if we changed the bridge to being a full harmony?” He asked as his eyes drifted towards the simple lines, “We could make it a higher register and lower register harmony. Recreate it so it would work and form a union almost. One chorus and verse is the masculine, deeper register. Second verse and chorus is the higher register, then they converge in the bridge and through the final chorus.”

“I think that would be amazing. . . “ She turned her head over her shoulder to see him. Their lips met after they chuckled about how she said it, “If it worked it would be like-“

“Catching Lightning in a bottle.” He could finish her sentence any day of the week.

~~~

She was distraught. They had performed the song in Osaka and it was well received, but Toni couldn’t allow it to be released like that. It still didn't sound right, it was still incomplete. It would always be incomplete. The attention from the song managed to make articles from publishers all over Japan, they were saying how their band debuted a new song with a positive reaction despite none of the crowd knowing the lyrics.

“Can you feel at peace with this fuckin song now? It’s a hit and it’s not even officially released.” Vic was frustrated, Toni refused to leave her hotel room. She couldn’t stop crying, it was incomplete despite how everyone seems to love it.

“No I can’t, Vic.” Toni buried herself back in her covers, unable to face the world. All she knew was that she was expected to release the song officially after the tour.

“Toni! You can’t keep saying this song is incomplete! It’s been done for years!” He was shouting now, Vic was fed up. He knew about this song before the others, he was the one who watched as she said it was perfect, it just needed to be recorded. “You told me when I first found out about it that it was perfect and you couldn’t wait to show it to the world! What happened to that? What happened to the girl who wanted to put this song into the world even if it was hated by the whole world except one person?” Vic took a breath to try and calm down in order to not send Toni into another sobbing fit.

“You need to face the music Toni. He’s not gonna find you until he knows you still remember.” She stated at Vic with fury in her eyes, he was the only one who knew why that song was never going to be perfect. “And unless you find him and tell him, he’s not gonna find you.”

“I’m not releasing the song. They can have this one performance, but never again. It will never see any more light after this.” In the time after the concert, Toni grew to hate the song she cherished. She was tired of the constant emails and calls from their record label telling her to put out the recorded song after the tour was finished. “No more practice with it, no more listening, no more reading the lyrics. Nothing.”

~~~

Stars decorated the sky as they laid in the bed of the truck. No wind, just them admiring the lit the sky in a way they never got to see. “They say you will need your soulmate under the stars.” He spoke, startling her from where she laid on his chest.

“Where did you hear that?” She propped herself up in order to look at him properly, “Cause I’m pretty sure it’s more like you and your soulmate will meet IN the stars, if you never met in life.”

“I’m fairly certain it was my version,” He held a smile on his face, “Cause my version makes sure that the beautiful girl I met under the stars is my soulmate.”

“You’re a dork, what makes you think that in my version you can’t meet your soulmate under the stars? For all we know you can meet your soulmate under the stars and in the stars.” She straddled his lap and leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead. He breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief at her words.

“Good, cause I don’t want to have to meet someone else after I’m gone, it seems like a lot of work.” He let a smile decorate his lips as he listened to her giggle at his remark.

~~~

“Dude! Dude! Dude! Listen to this band!” K ran up to his friend, holding a video that went viral of the band Stars of the Night, “This song is amazing, I can’t find the name of it anywhere though.”

Fuma took the phone and clicked play. Lyrics long forgotten poured into his ears, lyrics he inspired and helped refine. He couldn’t see the singer, but he could never forget the voice. “I know the name of the song.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he fought singing the part of the song written for him, it was etched into his memory as if someone took a brand to his brain.

“You do?! Tell me please.” K was begging for the information to be disclosed, “Please it’s stuck in my head and I can’t find it anywhere, even if I type in the lyrics only this video comes up. The band is called-”

“Stars of the Night?” Fuma cut off K with the name he had come up with for the band.

“Yeah,” K was caught off guard by his friend knowing the band already. “Do you listen to them? Wait- that’s not important, what's the name of the song dude? You said you knew it. Tell me, please.” K was practically on his knees to know what the song was called.

“It’s called Lightning in a bottle.”

~~~

“Why are you leaving me Antonia?!”

“Listen to me!” She shouted right back, “I don’t want to leave! I don’t have a choice in this, if I did I would stay right here!” She was leaving in a week to go to the states, her mom wanted to be back where she grew up and she wanted Antonia to finish her teen years there, despite her daughter already being mere days away from 18. Antonia had to break the news at some point that she would be leaving, she just didn’t want it to go this way.

“Then don’t leave!” He yelled, trying to hide how frantic he was trying to come up with ways she could stay with him. “Find a friend who will let you stay! Fuck, I’ll ask my family to let you stay so you don’t have to leave! We’ll find a way . . . just- just please don’t leave me.” It was getting harder and harder to yell through the tears. “Please, please don’t leave me, mi estrella. I love you too much to lose you.”

~~~

“Where are goin’ Nia?” Evelyn whispered as she watched Toni pull on her shoes at 2 in the morning. It was their last day in Japan before they were traveling to Seoul for two days then down to Australia for the rest of the year. Toni wanted to see if it was still there after all these years.

“Just . . . out. Don’t worry about it. . . I’ll be fine.” She grabbed the key to her hotel room and her phone before stepping out of the door and walking to the elevator. Her breath could be seen outside as she walked through the streets as if she had never left. Her hood was up and she was holding hope within her heart that it remained untouched.

She turned down the alleyway they used to take and crossed through the park. She disappeared into the treeline and found the small carving in the tree they first kissed at, letting her know she found the trail. A ways up the trail, another tree with a carving stood one she hadn’t seen before, Te amo mi luz de las estrellas. I always will. It was the same carving style as the one before so she knew he had made it. She wanted to sit right at the foot of the tree and sob as she remembered everything she had to leave behind, her friends, her family, her love. Toni knew she couldn’t just sit there and mope, so she kept walking along the trail that opened to a pond now frozen over.

“It’s still here . . .” She whispered as she walked to the edge of the old dock and sat down at the place she would sit during the day as he tried to get her to swim. The same place she laid during the night and watched the few stars that could be seen.

~~~

“Where do you think you’re going?” Antonia asked, half asleep, as she felt him get up from the air mattress they had been sleeping on.

“I’m just going to the kitchen for something, don’t worry, I’ll be right back.” He placed a kiss on her temple to punctuate that he would be fast. He ran into the kitchen to grab the small cake in his fridge for her. ‘Happy birthday, Mi Estrella.’ was written on the top and a single candle was on it. He wanted to celebrate her birthday with her, but that was the day she was leaving. So that night was dedicated to her, everything was about her; the movie she wanted, the games she wanted, every little thing she wanted he gave her.

As he lit the candle he had to stop before taking the cake to Antonia, his head hung as he fought tears. The idea of not being able to spend both of their birthdays together made him angry, they weren’t supposed to just spend one birthday together, it was supposed to be every birthday after this, every last one. He pulled his head up and took a breath to keep his composure before grabbing the cake and bringing it into the room where the mattress and Antonia lay. “I know it’s not your birthday yet, but happy birthday love.”

~~~

That same night, Fuma laid in bed, thinking about the old pond they used to go to. He thought about how he went to her house near christmas one day and made tamalés with them, all the jokes they made, how her dad pulled him aside and said he was good for his daughter. Every memory he buried after that day at the airport came back. He waited till the morning to walk out to the pond, he passed the first carving, then the one meant for her birthday. “Te amo, mi luz de las estrellas . . .” He read out as he ran his hand over the carving. He was supposed to take her to the pond that day, he had a whole set up planned for her. They were going to go swimming, then have a picnic for dinner, and after the sun had set they were going to go past the pond to a smaller opening in the trees where you could see all the stars they wanted.

He looked out at the pond which now had a thin layer of snow covering it and the dock. He noticed footprints leading to and from her old spot, along with a butt print in her spot. He followed right next to the prints and sat down in his spot, unknowingly placing his hand over her hand print. He stared at the ice, thinking about how they spent Valentine's day at the pond, dancing around on the dock. Eventually he got up and walked back to the tree line, stopping and looking to see light snow beginning to cover the prints. The hands seeming to stay despite everything else being covered.

“I miss you, Mi Estrella. I still do.” Fuma whispered as he vanished within the trees, starting his way back home.

~~~

Fuma stood at the gate to Antonia’s plane, it was 3 am and he wouldn’t have gotten to see her before she left if he wasn’t there. He held a small bag of little items she had said she liked in the time they were together, and a hot chocolate with marshmallow fluff and a little dab of whipped cream, just the way she liked it. He waited and saw her and her parents walking towards him. Her father looked tired, as if he had just woken up which was likely, her mother was wide awake and ready to go. Antonia looked terrible to any onlooker, she had clearly been crying all night and appeared to be on the verge of crying again, but to Fuma, she was just as beautiful as ever. He waited for her to register that he was there, almost breaking down when Antonia dropped her luggage and ran to hug him. She started crying into his chest as he set down the bag and held her with one arm, being careful of the hot coco so it didn’t spill on her. “I’m here, it’s me. I even brought you hot coco just how you like.” His voice was low, barely a whisper as he spoke to Antonia. He didn’t want to upset her more than she already was, this was meant to be goodbye, but it wasn’t meant to be painful.

“You’re here, even though we aren’t together you’re here,” She sobbed against him before pulling back to see him with tears lining his eyes. He pulled away more and placed the drink in her hands, then grabbed the bag and placed it in her other hand.

“I’ll always be there, I’ll only be a button push away.”

~~~

Everyday they had been in Japan, the rest of the band wanted to do touristy stuff. Toni hated it and asked if they could do something that she wanted for the last day. Her band mates said yes, so now they were going through her old favorite neighborhood, trying all the different foods she grew up with. “You never told us you lived here!” Ghost scolded as he took another bite of noodles.

“Well I grew up here, left on my 18th birthday with my parents.”

“Can we see your old house?” Evelyn asked as she wiped her mouth, she wanted to see where their singer grew up and maybe meet some of her old friends. They all pestered Toni for a little longer before she agreed and they got on the train to Toni’s old town. They walked for a while before reaching a worn down home where an elderly couple sat on the porch.

“Excuse me, Ma’am, Sir?” Toni walked up to the couple and got their attention, her Japanese as if she never left, “Hi, I’m one of the old residents of this house and me and my friends were in town. They asked if we could go in and I could show them around where I grew up. Would that be alright?”

“Absolutely!” The woman cheered and stood from her seat as Toni gestured for her band to follow them. “We always wondered who the couple in the polaroid were.”

“Polaroid?”

“Let me get it,” She gestured for the group that had formed to follow her into the house and to the kitchen. She opened a drawer and pulled out a polaroid photo that had a date on it, 16/12/23. It was a picture of a young couple making Tamalés and laughing about something unheard. “You look just like the girl in this photo. We don’t know who it is though, it was left here when the other family moved out.”

Toni couldn’t breathe as she flipped the photo to reveal neat handwriting she recognized as her father’s. If you want to, you have my blessing. Take care of her. This was the photo her father handed to him on Christmas that year, he had given it back to her father after he found out they were leaving. “T-that’s me ma’am.” She stumbled over her words, “Could- could I keep this? This is the first time I’ve seen this picture.”

“Of course you can keep it, that was always the intention. I wanted to return it to the young couple or at least one of them.” The old woman grinned and left the group alone so they could walk around the house and so Toni could recall her memories.

They walked through room after room, Toni recalling every odd memory she had. She got quiet when she got to her old bedroom, it hadn't been touched meaning the scratches near the head board were still there and so were the little affirmations he wrote on the walls for her. Vic suggested they move on after seeing the tears begin to collect in Toni’s eyes. As they walked out of the house, they thanked the old man and were about to thank the woman, only for Toni to see someone she thought she’d never see again.

“. . . Fuma?” She was holding a pillow on her bed as she stood in the doorway. She could’ve sworn she was hallucinating from grief if he hadn’t been carrying a new blanket and a bag of snacks.

“Hello, Mi Amor,” He smiled as he stepped into the house, placing the new blanket over her body and wrapped her in a hug. “I was told everything is horrible and you need a little comfort?” She nodded and he moved them back to her room, curling around her body once in the bed and placing his much warmer hand on her stomach. “It’s not much, but I hope it helps.”

“It’s perfect.”

~~~

“Where are you going?!” Their manager screamed at Toni as she walked further into the airport, holding a duffel bag of clothes as a carry on and enough money for one flight back to Japan.

“I didn’t want to leave the first time! I couldn’t stand being there the second time!” She shouted back, “I’m not fucking up the third time!”

When the plane landed it was 11:00 pm on New Year’s eve, she had one hour to get there. So she hailed a cab and told the driver the name of the park, and 35 minutes later she was running through the large park to get to the tree line.

Swerving through the trees, she stopped to touch the first mark, and continued on to the second. She got to the second and checked her phone, 11:47, she was fine on time. So she slowed down and walked slowly to the dock, placing her duffle bag on the grass. “I thought you left before Christmas?”

His voice caused her to spin around and stare. “I- I did. I did.” She almost couldn’t wrap her head around why he would be here instead of with his company at a party. “I guess I couldn’t stay away from home for another holiday.”

“You know,” He started, walking to the end of the dock as he spoke. “I had thought you forgot about me. I had never heard Lightning in a Bottle released, hell I thought you gave up on music.”

“Now why would I do that?” She joined him on the dock in time, “You of all people would know that music is my life. And how would I ever forget you? Just cause I didn’t want the world to see our song?”

“You still call it our song?”

“Of course . . . it was created for us, why would it not be our song?” She was confused by him not thinking it was about him anymore. “Fuma, if it’s still about you and the time we had. I never released it ‘cause it wasn’t good enough to be released without you singing it with me.”

“Good enough? You made it, that alone makes it good enough.” He was amazed by the way she genuinely thought that him not being there made the song not enough. “Everything you make is perfect. If people disagree they can fuck off cause they’re wrong. I thought you picked another name for the band or never made the band, so I never looked for it. I wanted to see how you were this whole time, I just didn’t know how to find you. After I got shown the footage of that performance; I looked you up, I listened to everything, I watched it all.”

“You looked me up and listened to everything?”

11:53

“Absolutely, I went to the very fucking ends of the internet to find all of the performances I could and every bit of footage of you. I wanted to see you from the moment you got on that plane and the second I heard your voice on that video everything I wanted came back to my mind.” He stared down into the frozen water in order to conceal the potential tears that would form in his eyes. “I never stopped wanting you, Antonia. It hurt every single day knowing I couldn’t walk to your house and ask if you wanted to go out, or that I couldn’t text you good morning, or- or that I couldn’t see your beautiful face when I was sad . . . I- it hurt the whole time.”

“Good to know I wasn’t the only one.”

11:55

“What?”

“Good to know I wasn’t the only one that . . . that couldn’t just walk away.”

11:58

“So what now?” Fuma looked up to Antonia, hoping she would follow the same thought that he did.

She looked down to her phone and saw the time, 11:59. “I think we take advantage of it being basically midnight on New Year’s Eve.” Fuma laughed as the clock struck midnight before leaning in.

“Absolutely, mi Estrella.”

~~~

“Dance with me!” Antonia grabbed Fuma and pulled him to the dance floor during a slow song. Fuma willingly followed Antonia and placed his hands on her hips as she placed her arms around his neck. Fuma’s parents had thrown a new years party and Antonia had spent the night messing around with Fuma, making him laugh and confusing all the adults around who hadn’t actually liked their spouses for a few years.

The song was slow enough for it to end at midnight, which it did.

All the other couples leaned in and kissed one another as if it was an obligation. Fuma didn’t want that.

“May I?” He smirked as he asked his girlfriend for her midnight kiss, she nodded and laughed as Fuma spun her elegantly and ended in a dip. “Wonderful, I wasn’t quite sure I would make it without a kiss to start the new year.”

~~~

Antonia shivered slightly as Fuma carried her duffle bag and helped her out of the woods. “Do you have a place to stay until you go back to Australia?” He asked as he hopped down one of the large almost step-like formations in the forest. He held his hand up after pulling the duffle bag onto his back, only to stop his actions after Antonia tried to sit then slide down. He shook his head, “Nope. You are not going to sit in the mud and snow while it is freezing outside and I don’t know if you have a place that’s warm. May I, please?”

“Fine. . . “ Antonia wasn’t sure what he was planning, but trusted him enough to let him. He placed his hands on her waist after putting her hands on his shoulders, then lifted her off the step and gently placed her on the same level he stood on.

“There we go,” Fuma smiled and removed his hands before gesturing forward in an ‘after you’ way. Antonia used the night to hide her blush, walking in front of Fuma praying she wouldn't trip. “Now, about that place to stay.” He continued his previous question about where Antonia would be staying.

“Um,” She hesitated, unsure of how he would react. “I . . . well, I kind of don’t . . . have a place . . .” Fuma was in complete shock. Why did she not have a warm place to stay while she was there?

“Okay . . .” He thought about any possibility that would ensure she had a place for the night. “What about you stay at my dorm for the night? I can kick K out of his room for the night or Euijoo and I can stay in the living room.” Antonia nodded and agreed to those arrangements, against displacing anyone for her comfort.

By the time they arrived at the dorm, Antonia was wearing Fuma’s jacket and he was still carrying her bag. He had insisted that he would be fine without one extra layer and she needed at least a layer more than a t-shirt. He walked in the dorm to see Taki and Nicholas battling it out on Mario Kart, while K was stacking all the food he could on his arms. That food was very quickly placed on the counter as he noticed the girl being escorted through the door. “Holy shit! You’re Toni! From Stars of the Night!” K practically leaped out of the kitchen to meet Antonia, followed by Nicholas and Taki who were also fans.

“Yeah that’s me. Sorry to intrude-”

“Intrude? What? No- no, you are not intruding what so ever.” K practically yelled before Fuma took over.

“Guys, back up.” He placed his hand in front of Antonia to get them to move back slightly. “Antonia is gonna stay here tonight. She doesn’t have a hotel room.” None of them noticed Fuma say her full name as if he knew her.

“My room!” Taki shouted, not thinking about his volume, “You can stay in my room, I’ll stay out in the living room.” That offer then began an argument between the three.

“Guys!” Antonia got their attention, “I can stay on the couch, not the first time I stayed on a fan’s couch. Although definitely the first time one of those fans has been my ex.” Fuma was now mortified at the idea of allowing his love to sleep on the couch. The three didn’t seem to hear that last sentence.

“Yeah no, I’ll fix this argument. One of you go check if Euijoo is awake, if he's not she’ll take K’s room for the night. If he is awake he can stay in the living room with me.” Nicholas nods and goes to Euijoo and Fuma’s shared room, then coming back with the aforementioned walking out of his room with a blanket and a pillow in his arms. “Okay, let’s go make sure you’re comfortable.”

He gently pulled Antonia back to his room. He set down her bag on his bed and pulled some extra blankets out of his closet. “4 blankets and 2 pillows still?” He smiled, proud of his memory when Antonia nodded, a blush coating her face again. He went to move her duffle, only to notice the key chains he gifted her years ago. “You still have them? Even the button?”

“Yeah, they were the last thing you gave me before I left. Now everywhere I go they come with.” Antonia stopped looking around and walked next to Fuma, who was leaning over looking at the key chains. “I never did find out what that button did, the batteries didn’t survive the first flight before I could use it and I didn’t know what type to get after.”

“I think I might have some . . .” He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a pack of small batteries. “Here.” Fuma unclicked the back of the button and replaced the old batteries, “Try it now.” He handed the button over to her. She pushed the button and waited for it to make any noise.

“Nope, still not working. It’s okay though, the thought was what counted.” Fuma grabbed the button again and inspected it, finding a small pull tab that he had replaced after recording his message. He smiled and pulled the tab before handing it back to Antonia. She pressed the button and listened.

“Hey amoré, I know you’re already gone but I wanted to give you a little piece of me in case you felt down.” Antonia held the button close to her head as she listened, her eyes not moving from their position against Fuma’s face. He watched, worried as he saw tears gather. “I just want you to know that you aren’t alone. I may be on the other side of the world, but I’m still there. Te amo, my darling . . . forever and always.”

“Fuma . . .”

“Yeah mom said it was cheesy, but I hoped you would like it-” His sentence finished as he suddenly had Antonia pressed against him, sniffling.

“It’s perfect.” His arms wrapped around her, cradling her head and pressing her closer as a living weighted blanket. Then a yell was heard from the living room. “Wait a fuckin’ minute- EX?!”

#&team #andteam #&team fuma #murata fuma #fuma x oc #&team fics #&team fluff

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coldfanbou · 2 years ago

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Sidestreets

Hi everyone, here's a short piece. This was a request that someone had made.

Length: 1.6K

Jinsoul X M Reader

Jinsoul makes her way down the busy streets of LA; she’s wandering the streets looking for something. She skips around the corner, her long coat bouncing. You’re walking out onto the city streets with your friend, heading to the convenience store to get drinks. As you turn the corner, she bumps into you and falls to the ground.

“Oh, sorry, Are you alright?” You lend her your hand, helping her up.

“Yeah, I’m okay” She dusts herself off, then looks up at you; she catches your eye—a devious smile forms on her face. “You’ll do nicely. Can you come with me for a moment?” She’s already holding your hand, trying to drag you away.

“Sorry, but me and my friend were going to the store.”

She looks your friend up and down. “He can come with us.” She starts to pull you again.

“Look, I mean, no offense, but we just want to go get some drinks,” Jinsoul pouts; she undoes the top knot on her coat. She leans in, and you can see that she’s only wearing a pair of panties; she is nearly naked under that coat. She leans closer to whisper in your ear.

“Does that change your mind?” You look at your friend, telling him what you saw.

“I think we should go with the pretty lady.” You agree; Jinsoul leads you along for a few blocks through backstreets until she reaches an alleyway.

“Here we are; I hope you really like what you’re about to see.” She slowly undoes the knots on her coat and holds her coat together for a moment. She smiles at you before pulling her coat open and dropping it to the ground. You get to see her body in all its glory; all she’s wearing now are some lacy pink panties and a matching pair of high heels. She walks over to t the two of you, her hands reaching for your crotches, rubbing your bulge through your pants. “Ooh, you’re pretty big,” She says, looking at you. “Why don’t you boys help me by showing me your cocks” You both drop your pants and boxers. Your cocks hang out as Jinsoul squats down, taking one in each hand. Her delicate hands run down your shaft, giving it gentle squeezes. She kisses the tip of your cock before doing the same to your friend’s. She returns to you, taking you into her mouth; she turns her head, so your cock presses against the inside of her cheek. You moan the sensation of being pressed against her cheek, sending jolts of pleasure down your back. You can hear your friend moan as Jinsoul gives him a handjob, stroking his cock at lightning speed. Jinsoul starts to rub her pussy through her panties before moving them to the side. She begins driving her fingers in her pussy, her juices spilling out as she does so.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum”

Jinsoul takes you out of her mouth for a second to tell your friend, “You can cum on my face.” He does so, spurting cum on her forehead and cheeks. He takes a few steps back and leans against the wall, catching his breath. Jinsoul, in the meanwhile, goes back to sucking on your cock, her tongue expertly moving alongside the head. You warn her that you're going to cum soon; you want to paint her face with your cum too. She keeps going, taking you further into her mouth; she wants to pour your seed into her mouth. Her hand starts to play with her clit, making her moan with your cock still in her mouth. You moan out as you cum down her throat. Jinsoul doesn’t struggle in the slightest; she holds your cock in her mouth as she ensures she gets every drop of your cum. She releases you with a pop. She slaps herself with your cock.

“Now this is a cock” She stands up and takes off her panties, placing them on top of her coat. “How about you fuck me now?” Your friend finally recovered and went to try and take her from behind; Jinsoul slapped him away, “You can use my mouth,” She told him. He hadn’t done himself any favors by cumming so quickly when she only used her hand. He’s disappointed he couldn’t fuck her ass, but he acquiesces and waits for her to get in position. Jinsoul turns, pressing her ass against you, teasing you. Lining yourself up, you slowly push through her folds, entering her.

Jinsoul bends over, taking your friend's cock in her mouth. As you thrust into her, you can hear her muffled moans. Her pussy clenched around you every time you moved. Your friend seemed to hold some anger over being rejected, and while Jinsoul is sucking his cock he forces her head to his base. Repeatedly thrusting himself into her throat, Jinsoul coughs and gags, but she isn’t given any reprieve. She’s enjoying it, though; every time he thrusts into her mouth, the walls of her pussy tighten around you. She had just cum, too; her juices started dripping down her legs.

You start to spank her ass and become rougher with your thrusts as if trying to break her. “You like that, don’t you, you slut” Jinsoul can’t respond; with every thrust by you, her body lurches forward only to be greeted by your friend’s thrust. She’s being bounced between the two of you, each cock going deeper inside her due to the force the other one provides to Jinsoul’s small body. Her walls tighten around your cock as she cums, her juice shooting out of her body. You don’t stop pounding her body; her muffled moans continue as you spank her ass a few more times, leaving your handprint. Your friend reaches his limit and cums inside Jinsoul’s mouth. This time she struggles to drink it all, some of it falling to the floor. As your friend attempts to pull out of her mouth, Jinsoul stops him, grabbing his waist and forcing to fuck her face. He was still sensitive from his recent orgasm and, as such, cums again. Jinsoul is struggling to keep him in her mouth as he fights back. In the struggle, his cock occasionally leaves her mouth, spurting cum all over her face. You feel yourself cumming soon as well; you slow your pace, instead putting more force into each thrust. As you’re about to cum you pull out of Jinsoul, cumming on her back. Jinsoul, at that moment, loses her grip on your friend as he falls backward toward the wall.

“Hey man, I think I’m gonna go; I’ll see you later” He quickly pulls up his pants and starts jogging away, leaving you alone with Jinsoul. She had frightened him off by being so forceful despite her being the one that’s used.

The first words out of her mouth after being spit-roasted were, “You guys really did a number on me, but I still want a little more. How about you take my ass? You’ll be the first one in there.” She teases you at the end, grinding her ass against your cock.

“Alright, fine, but I’m gonna make you regret it.”

“Oh please, how-” You tear through her ass, impaling your entire length down it. You weren’t going to let her get another word in; she screamed out in pain. You give her no time to adjust. Instead, you pull your cock out until just the head is inside her before thrusting all the way in one more time. Her legs start to give out, so you lift her, forcing her to bounce on your cock. Her legs dangle in the air as you relentlessly pound away at her, and her screams turn to moans. “That’s right fuck my asshole, stretch it out.”

“I’ll get it ready next time, it’ll be easier to fuck the shit out of you.” You both start to feel your orgasms approach. Her asshole being as tight as it was made it difficult to last long. She was so turned on by being used like this that she wasn’t to hold herself together. Jinsoul starts to spasm, her third orgasm of the night hitting her, her juices spraying onto the alley walls as she squirts. At the same time, you unleash volley after volley of cum into her asshole, painting it all white. You hold her in the air for a few moments before letting her down. She struggles to stand; she’s forced to limp to her coat and panties, the soreness of her ass settling in now. You pull your boxers and pants back up and try to help her into her panties.

“Oh, what a gentleman,” she says sarcastically. “This was one of my favorite experiences, though. Guys in Korea treat me like a delicate princess, but I’m just a little whore that needs to be used. Here, give me your phone” As you do, she types away on it before handing it back to you. “There, now you have my number, and we can set up our next meeting; after all, you said you wanted to fuck the shit out of me next time. It’s a shame I’m only here a few more days because I’d love to play with you a lot more. We’ll probably only get one more night together. Well, I guess I should get going now. My members are probably wondering where I am.”

“Shouldn’t you take the cum off your face first?”

“No, I think I’ll keep it on until I get to the hotel. I have to let people know I just got a good fucking.” A smirk on her face, she finishes tying the knots of her coat and starts to walk away. You check your phone seeing her contact name, “Jinsoul of Loona.”

#loona smut #jinsoul smut #male reader #kpop smut

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years ago

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You Light The Spark In My Bonfire Heart

Kyle Rayner x Batbro One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I HAVEN'T HAD ANY WIFI ALL DAY BUT NOW I DO AND this is my new obsession and pair and you can tear it from my cold dead hands. Enjoy! -Thorne

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

Kyle had an easy morning routine: get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, workout, shower, drink protein shake, and draw. It was simple and effective, and helped him maintain a sense of normalcy that he didn’t always have when he was up in space. He typically started out with sketching small things, mostly faces and limbs from memory, the occasional suit redesign, then he’d get into the bigger works, drawing comic panels and the commissions he had. And while Kyle loved to be up in space, to be a Green Lantern, drawing felt like coming home to him, like it was the natural state. That being said, he didn’t love being interrupted when he was in the middle of something important—it was bad for the groove.

***

As the second round of knocking sounded on his door, Kyle grunted and stood from his desk, padding through the hallway to his front door; he flicked the lock and pulled open the door, surprise etching across his face when he saw the eldest Wayne leaning against the door frame—rather cockily, Kyle added, because the soldier’s arm was propped on the frame, the other stuck in the side-pocket of his dark tactical bomber jacket.

“Good morning, Kyle,” he greeted with a smirk. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

The Lantern blinked, shaking his head. “Uh, no, you’re not, (Y/N).” he looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Had some business to take care of for my dad, and since I was in the area, I figured I’d drop by and see if you wanted to get some lunch with me.”

Kyle took a moment to lean out the doorway slightly, looking down the stretched hallway. “How’d you know where I live?”

“Please, a magician never reveals his secrets,” he deflected coolly, gazing at Kyle. “What do you say? Wanna get some lunch? I know a really good sports bar that serves great food.”

He looked back at (Y/N) and smiled. “Yeah. Let me go get dressed.”

The soldier merely winked in return and with fumbling hands, Kyle managed to shut the door before his cheeks burst into flames, hurrying back to his bedroom to pull together an outfit that would impress the man.

***

Kyle almost dropped to his knees when he saw the car parked outside his apartment building, and (Y/N) knew it too, because he chirped, “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

He nodded dumbly. “Is this a McLaren 720S?”

“Mhm.” He opened the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, looking through the passenger door. “Coming?”

“Am I ever,” Kyle breathed, climbing into the seat, immediately running his hands along the dashboard and seat. “I’m in love.”

“Wait till you hear her purr,” (Y/N) said, closing the doors, and pushing the ignition. The sports car roared to life and he grinned at the way Kyle’s face melted. “Yeah, she’s a beauty.” He put the car in drive and looked through the side mirror, then pulled out onto the street.

“Is this one of your dad’s cars?”

“Nah, I bought this for myself a couple months ago.” He pulled the sunglasses from his t-shirt and put them on. “This and an Audi TT.”

Kyle huffed a laugh. “Jesus, you billionaires live it up, don’t you?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Hey, I live life in the fast lane. Might as well drive in it too.” He pushed a button on the touch screen and music filtered through the speakers, and Kyle’s face pinched in confusion. “What?”

“This isn’t—James Blunt isn’t the music I figured you’d play.”

“What’d you think I’d be listening too? Rock?” he chuckled, turning the volume down a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, I listen to all kinds of rock music, but I figured you’d want something easy rather than head-bang your brains out rock.” (Y/N) stopped at a red light and glanced over. “You can look through the artists on my phone if you want.”

Kyle shook his head, relaxing into the seat as the melody flowed through him. “No, I like this artist.” The soldier merely smiled in return, pressing the gas pedal again, and Kyle suddenly remembered something. “Speaking of artist, I saw the canvas in your bedroom the other day. Do you draw?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Not like you. It’s more of a pastime than a lifestyle.”

“You’re good at it. You’re painting your family in their suits. Details and designs included.” The artist regarded him with impression. “That takes skill.”

“I’d like to think I just have a steady hand and a lot of patience for stressful tasks.” (Y/N) turned the wheel, coming up behind a line of cars. “It’s an easy way for me to relax and mentally run through past events.”

“Like what?” Kyle questioned curiously.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, but not in a loathing way, more of a thoughtful one. “Missions, conversations, things I could’ve done differently, things I will do differently.” He shrugged again. “Painting for me is just a time when I think about everything and nothing.”

“Well, you’re great at it, (Y/N).”

He snorted. “It’s just a bunch of paintings of my family and friends and military shit.”

Kyle blinked and leaned over. “Wait, is that painting in the den—”

“The one of the F-18 Super Hornet?”

“Yeah. You painted that?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yep. I got Hal Jordan to take me up in one a few years ago and decided to commemorate the trip.”

“Wow,” the Lantern breathed. “I stared at that canvas for at least an hour the first time I saw it. I was just so blown away by how amazing it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “And to find out, you drew it and not some world-famous painter.”

“Hey, I could be world famous if I wanted.” (Y/N) shot back, turning onto a less busy backstreet. “I just choose to retain my talents for family and friends.”

“Because of your job?”

“That too.” He agreed. “My squad and I take careful precautions to avoid our faces being seen during any missions for the safety of our families.” His face turned as solemn as his voice. “We do what we do to make the world safer. To keep our families and friends safe. It’s imperative that we’re not seen.”

Kyle cocked a brow. “But you’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”

“I am,” he nodded. “But I’m not as…out as the rest of my siblings. You’d be able to recognize them from press photos, but me not so much.” (Y/N) pulled into a parking spot outside the bar. “People only recognize me when they see the name on the credit cards. And I prefer to keep it that way.” A goofy smile crossed his lips. “The high life isn’t for me.”

“Says the man that drives a 710 horsepower sports car.” Kyle shot back with a grin of his own and (Y/N) stuck his tongue out as he turned the car off and opened the doors.

“Okay, I’m not actively in the high life but that doesn’t mean I don’t like luxury.” He closed the car doors and opened the front door to the bar for Kyle. “After you.”

“Thank you.” He replied, and walked inside, only stopping to turn and ask, “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”

(Y/N) tipped his head to the side. “I’m down with both, but I like the bar more.”

“Bar it is,” Kyle said and slid into one of the chairs, (Y/N) the other, and an older man wandered over.

“Well, I’ll be damned, is that (Y/N) Wayne I see?”

He turned, expression morphing into joy as he reached out and shook the older man’s hand. “Jack, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you son. How’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know me, sir. Nothin’ changing but the weather.”

Jack snorted. “And the desert where you dig sand outta your ass.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Damn straight.” He looked at Kyle. “Kyle, I’d like you to meet Jack Dagher. He’s an old CO of mine.”

Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“It’s all mine,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while since (Y/N) brought anybody here.”

At that, Kyle turned to the soldier who was busy looking anywhere but his face. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. Sonovabitch doesn’t bring his dates here unless he really likes ‘em.”

(Y/N) coughed, glaring at the man. “Alright, we get it. Aren’t you supposed to be taking orders?”

Jack gave him a smug look in return. “What can I get you boys to drink?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Kyle said, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“No shit, kid. What kind?”

(Y/N) snickered as Kyle flushed. “Uh, a Heineken.”

Jack sighed. “And he had such potential. (Y/N)?”

“Gimme a strawberry daiquiri then water after.”

“Still ordering fruity drinks, huh?”

“Hey, they get you drunk faster than horse piss does, you old fart.” He shot back and the old man chuckled.

“Touché.” He slapped the bar. “I’ll bring those to you with an order of chili fries.”

“Thanks Jack,” (Y/N) smiled, watching the man walk off before turning to Kyle who was watching one of the baseball games. “You like sports?”

He tipped his head side to side. “I don’t not like them. I was never a sporty kid in school, but I like watching them.” He looked at the solider. “What were you like in school? Jock or prep?”

“Probably a bit of both,” he answered. “I played sports and had the highest grades.” Shrugging, he added, “And being a Wayne boosted me into the top tier of schools, so, there’s that. To be honest, I think all of us Wayne kids were and are a mixture of every stereotypical category.”

“I can see that,” Kyle laughed. “Especially with Jason and Dick.”

“Shit, I was talking about Timmy.” (Y/N) said. “That kid’s a grade A nerd.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

The two of them laughed and a woman placed their drinks in front of them, both giving their thanks as they took sips.

“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?”

“My muscles are one hundred percent real. Especially my abs. Which you’re allowed to feel on in envy if you want.”

Kyle snorted into his beer, wiping his mouth. “No!” a few more chuckles passed his lips as he wiped the bar. “Are you…you know…?”

“A Leo?” (Y/N) offered with a smile, but his eyes told Kyle he knew exactly what the Lantern was asking, and he said, “I like the liquor, but I don’t care what label it has on it.”

The other man smiled. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But if you want the technical term, I am pansexual.” He regarded Kyle a moment. “You?”

“Bisexual.”

His lips pulled in an impressed fashion. “Pretty fly for a bi guy.”

Kyle gaped at him for a moment, then shoved (Y/N) in the side as he buried his face in his arms and laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

“Ah thank you,” he grinned. “I get it from my old man.”

“You,” he cut himself off with a cackle. “do not get that from him.”

“Look, you know the big man in the suit. You don’t know the complete goober we live with,” (Y/N) chuckled, smiling at the waitress who placed menus in front of them; he picked his up and flipped through it.

“What do you recommend?”

“Hmm…anything with bacon on it.” He showed the menu. “If you like salads, get the steak and blue cheese one, it’s fantastic. Or if you’re more into tacos, they’ve got these awesome shrimp carnitas with chili peppers.”

Kyle’s brows furrowed as he looked the menu over. “What are you gonna get?”

“My usual. Tomahawk steak with garlic butter and mashed potatoes.” (Y/N) groaned and rested his head back. “I haven’t had a good steak in months, and I can just taste it already.”

“So, you’re a meat and potatoes kind of man?”

He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Unlike the cup noodle and Hawaiian roll man beside me.”

“Ouch. Hit me where it hurts.”

“C’mon Kyle, hit me with your best shot.”

“Better watch it, (Y/N),” he grinned. “You might be the next notch in my pencil case.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

***

“Holy crap,” Kyle breathed, hands resting lightly on his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

(Y/N) moaned. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”

“Done?” their waitress laughed. “You haven’t even finished your desserts yet!”

“Oh God, don’t make me,” the Lantern whined. “I’ll explode.” He looked over. “(Y/N), take one for the team.”

“Pass,” he replied. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds just looking at the rest of the cheesecake.”

The woman laughed. “I’ll wrap the leftovers for you boys.” She wandered off, leaving them alone, and a blaring ringtone filled the space between.

(Y/N) jumped a little, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I get this really quick?”

Kyle shook his head. “Go ahead.”

He slid his thumb along the bottom and rested the phone on the bar. “This is Wayne.”

Captain! Finally. I’ve been texting you all afternoon.

“I know,” he snorted. “I’ve been ignoring it.”

Yeah well, the longer you ignore me the slower it takes for the radar dish to get replaced.

“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) asked. “I thought you’d procured one.”

I did. Then the buyer told me I wasn’t registered for official military hardware.

He frowned. “That’s odd. You did contact Thomas, right?”

Yeah. Beady eyed looking motherfucker who serves on the George Washington, right?

“That’s him.” (Y/N) hummed. “Tell you what, I’ll call him later this evening and get it all sorted out, yeah?”

Sounds good. Hey, did you take that guy out yet? Your little brother won’t stop texting me about some twinkie you’re into.”

(Y/N) froze as he felt Kyle’s eyes drilling into the side of his head and he stuttered, “Uh, Nadeen, now’s not the best time.”

What do you mean best—oh…ohhhhhh. I, uh, I gotta go, Captain.

“Yep. Bye.” He locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, refusing to meet Kyle’s eyes. “So…you catch the baseball game?”

“Which one of your brother’s thinks I’m a twink?” Kyle asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Jason, isn’t it?” he grunted in his throat, deadpanning, “I can’t believe my best friend thinks I’m a twink.”

“It’s Dick, actually.” (Y/N) grinned, turning to face him and he reached over, pinching Kyle’s cheek. “It’s just ‘cause you’re so cute and perky.”

The Lantern merely glared at him, griping, “I’m not as strong as you, put I can punch pretty hard.”

“Ooo, those are fighting words,” he shot back with a smirk, letting Kyle go. “Careful, I’m ticklish.”

“I feel like I’m talking to Hal.”

(Y/N) whined, all but collapsing onto Kyle who started snickering. “I’ve just been murdered.” He buried his face in Kyle’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I was just compared to Highball. The world must be coming to an end.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby. You’re not dying.”

“I am!” he turned his head, gazing at Kyle. “You’ll have to carry me to safety.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I did not say that.”

“You did, but in more words.”

“Alright, now I’m talking to Guy.”

“THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE!”

***

He leaned against the door frame as Kyle unlocked his front door and pushed it open, turning to look at him. “I had a lot of fun today, (Y/N).” he murmured. “Thanks.”

Winking, he replied, “I’m glad you did. I’d like to do it again soon if you want.”

Kyle nodded. “I’d like that.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and (Y/N) smiled, patting the door frame. “Well, I’d better be heading out. Have to get home in time for dinner.” He paused, giving the man a warm look. “Thanks for having lunch with me, Kyle.”

He’d not gotten two feet from the door when Kyle’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” He turned and the Lantern leaned forward, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s cheek. “Be careful on your way back.”

“I will,” he murmured, watching Kyle wave and disappear into his apartment, the door shutting behind him.

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hood-ex · 4 years ago

Text

Dick stares at the ceiling of his darkened bedroom for what feels like forever before the alarm on his phone starts going off. The Backstreet Boys song that Babs had set as his default alarm fills the room with a chorus of, “Everybody! Rock your body right! Backstreet's back alright!”

He normally tries to shut the obnoxious song up as soon as it goes off, but, well, there isn’t really anything normal about Dick’s current situation, and he figures that letting the song play out for a little longer than usual might curb his feelings of homesickness.

It fades into background noise as he flings off the covers and rolls out of bed, wincing as his bare feet meet the chilled wood floor. He blindly turns in the direction of the Alexa device and—wait. It’s called Cora in this universe, not Alexa.

Right.

“Cora, turn on Dick’s bedroom lights,” he says to the small white device that’s sitting on the bedside table. Cora glows green to indicate that she heard the demand, and the lights flicker on immediately.

Dick squints at the sudden brightness and stumbles his way into the bathroom for a piss and a quick shower. It takes him all of ten minutes to finish. After he dries his hair with a towel, he heads to the closet and surveys the small selection of clothes that are all in his size but aren’t actually his. That’s made obvious by the fact that all the shirts are neutral colored, many of the pants are ripped at the knees, and any form of outerwear consists mostly of hoodies.

At 27-years-old, Dick can’t imagine himself wearing ripped jeans. He knows from what Alfred told him when he arrived here that this universe’s Dick is only 19. Still, even when Dick was that age, he’d been wearing outfits that were considered more fashionable.

He figures the casual wear has something to do with the fact that this universe’s Alfred and Bruce are way more laid back in both manner and appearance than his own. Just yesterday, Bruce had been wandering around the kitchen in nothing but briefs and a t-shirt, something Dick's Alfred would definitely not have been pleased about.

He grins at the memory and surveys his options one last time before pulling on some light wash jeans and a beige colored Stussy shirt. He goes for a watch next—this Dick is apparently a watch guy because he’s got like six of them—and while he’s in the middle of fastening it to his wrist, he’s startled by Cora suddenly glowing green and emanating the sound of a bell ringing.

Alfred’s pre-recorded voice then comes through the speaker and says, “Breakfast is ready. Please make your way downstairs before it gets cold.”

Dick has to admit that out of all the things that are different about this alternate universe, having Alfred take full advantage of Cora’s abilities is one of the most amusing. Also, weirdly convenient. He’ll have to see about teaching Alfie how to use Alexa when he gets back home.

The Backstreet Boys are finally silenced once Dick turns off the alarm. He shoves his phone in his pocket before following the heavenly scent of food towards the kitchen.

The first thing he sees when he walks in is Bruce is sitting at the table with a tablet, no doubt reading this morning’s news. He’s already dressed in a black polo with the Wayne Enterprises crest embroidered on the breast. It’s tucked into a pair of gray trousers that are nicely tapered and draw attention to his suede penny loafers. Bruce’s hair is already neatly styled into place, and as Dick takes a seat across from him at the table, the smell of spicy cologne hits his nose. He can’t help but feel a little sad that the cologne isn’t the same as what his Bruce wears.

Bruce sets the tablet to the side when Dick finally settles in his seat. His soft blue eyes roam over Dick’s face in a way that Dick’s come to be familiar with since landing in this universe. He figures it’s because he looks a little different than 19-year-old Dick and that Bruce is probably curious about what his boy will look like in eight years. Either that or he just misses his kid in the same way Dick misses his Bruce.

“Morning, Dick,” Bruce greets with a smile, his tone rather chipper.

Bruce’s upbeat attitude and smiles had thrown Dick off when he’d first arrived in this universe, not having seen his own Bruce act like that since it was just the two of them against the world.

“Good morning, Master Dick,” Alfred greets while he gathers two plates from the marble island in the middle of the kitchen. He’s decked out in his white apron which looks pristine as always.

“Morning,” Dick says. He reaches for the carton of milk in the middle of the table and carefully pours it into the glass that’s been preset next to his placemat.

Alfred swoops in with the two plates and places one in front of Dick and the other in front of Bruce. Dick nearly curses in excitement when he sees what it is.

“A full English breakfast, Alf? Aw, you shouldn’t have,” he says, and his stomach rumbles loudly as if telling him to shut up and just eat. “But I’m so glad you did.”

“Me too,” Bruce says, having already taken a bite out of a sausage. “Thanks, Alfred. This is great.”

Dick hums in agreement and quickly works on lathering his bread with some of the beans, meat, and eggs.

“Thank you, sirs. I figured Master Dick might like it, seeing as he mentioned it’s something my counterpart enjoys making.”

“You figured right,” Dick says after he finishes swallowing a mouthful. “Back home, I’d eat one of these plates so fast that Alfie would get all Shakespeare on me.” With a switch in accent and tone, Dick imitates Alfred and says, “‘He hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his!’”

Something like pride fills his chest when both Bruce and Alfred’s faces scrunch up in laughter. Bruce’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and Alfred covers his mouth with his hand to hide his amusement.

Dick’s just glad they have something like Shakespeare to relate to even though he knows that this universe's William Shakespeare only wrote half the number of plays that are in Dick’s universe. Not seeing the recognition on Bruce and Alfred’s faces when he had quoted Romeo and Juliet at them the other night had broken his heart if only because it’s quoted frequently in his family.

“Sounds like Alfred alright,” Bruce grins.

“I’ll have to save that for when our Master Dick returns,” Alfred says, looking both fond and sad at the reminder of his missing boy.

“He’ll get a kick out of it,” Bruce nods, looking equally as wistful.

Dick shifts uncomfortably in his seat at the blatant display of affection for his counterpart. He can’t help but wonder if he’s being missed just as strongly back home. If he is, he’s sure it’s not being expressed as openly as this. Well, he likes to think that Babs, Tim, and Damian might have something to say about it in their own ways.

Alfred clears his throat to dispel the sudden quiet that falls over them. “Excuse me, sirs. I’ll be eating my own breakfast in the other room.”

“Going to catch up on watching You Just Got Served?” Bruce asks knowingly.

“What’s that?” Dick asks.

“A morning gossip show in the UK,” Bruce says, taking a sip of his coffee to no doubt hide his smirk from Alfred’s piercing gaze.

“Gossip,” Alfred practically scoffs as if offended by the idea that he could ever find such a thing enjoyable. He grabs his plate and cup of tea from the counter, and before he leaves the kitchen, Dick hears him mutter, “If I wanted to be entertained by gossip of all things then I would spend my days reading tabloids with your face plastered across them, Master Bruce.”

“Ohhh, burn!” Dick cackles while mentally high fiving Alfred and his quick tongue.

Bruce cocks an eyebrow. “Burn?”

Right. Universe differences.

“Where I’m from it’s something you say when someone else gets mocked or teased but, like, in a playful way.”

“Oh,” Bruce says quietly, eyes raised to the ceiling like he’s thinking. “I don’t know if we have a word like that here. I’ll have to ask Dick when he’s back.”

Dick hums in acknowledgment and falls quiet. His mind is a little occupied by all the food that’s still sitting in front of him, and he can tell that Bruce is the same way. Both of them are happy to sit in comfortable silence while they finish off the majority of their meals.

It’s only when Dick is washing most of it down with his milk that Bruce suddenly asks, “You sleep okay, Chum?”

Dick pauses at the question. Not because Bruce refers to him by the same nickname that his own Bruce calls him on occasion, but because the nickname is said with a soft look that Dick hasn’t seen on his own Bruce’s face in god knows when. He’s not sure what prompted the question, but he guesses he must look a bit rough for Bruce to bring it up.

“Kind of,” Dick admits with a shrug. He places his glass back on the table and then continues to dig into the scraps on his plate.

“Nightmares?” Bruce prods after chewing a mouthful of baked beans. His eyes are trained on Dick, and they’re unguarded in a way that his Bruce’s rarely are. It’s obvious he’s concerned, and Dick feels slightly touched that this Bruce who isn’t his dad is worried about him.

Dick’s fringe flops in his face when he shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “My mind just wouldn’t shut up.”

Bruce hums. “Thinking about home?”

��Yeah,” Dick sighs. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair. “Mostly just thinking about what I’m going to do if things go wrong in my universe and my Bruce isn’t able to implement the protocol.”

The protocol in this particular situation, as Dick had explained to Bruce the first night he showed up in this universe, involves a ten day wait period. He’s to standby and wait for his Bruce to get either Zatanna or Doctor Fate to open a dimensional portal to take Dick home. If they don’t come within the first ten days of Dick’s arrival, Dick is supposed to seek out the closest thing this universe has to a magic user.

On one hand, Dick is lucky that he ended up in a universe that has a non-hostile Batman who’s willing to help him. On the other hand, he’s completely fucked in that this universe’s Zatanna is on a deep space mission and isn’t due to return for another month. The League is also apparently not on good terms with Doctor Fate here, and while it’s not out of the question that they can eventually get him to help, Dick’s been told that it will be extremely difficult.

Dick knows that Bruce has already been looking into other options, desperate to get his own Dick Grayson back. For now, they’re mostly relying on Dick’s Bruce to make a successful swap.

“We’ll figure it out, Chum,” Bruce says with a comforting smile. “Worst case scenario, we wait a month for my Zatanna to get back.”

Dick bites his lip. “And if she dies on the mission?”

Bruce’s face shifts into a closed off expression that’s familiar to Dick but looks weirdly out of place on this Bruce's face. “Like I said… we’ll figure it out.”

Dick's mouth twists into a frown at the answer that is, frankly, not good enough for him. The only thing that keeps him from pushing the issue further is that he can tell Bruce isn’t satisfied with his answer either.

Dick decides to back off… for now.

#Dick Grayson #Bruce Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #dimension travel #my fic

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mymoonagedaydream · 4 years ago

Text

Stranger’s Kiss

Summary: Heartbroken and lost, the neon city streets seemed to guide you to exactly where you needed to be.

Pairing: Bartender!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language, smut references

Author's Note: Cheeky little oneshot, hope y’all enjoy. It’s based around lyrics from Stranger’s Kiss by Alex Cameron.

---

Don't even bother climbing out of the well That ain't no way to get out of the hell that you're in

Four years.

You’d given him four years of your life, for what?

For you to walk into your bedroom and find him balls deep in some tramp from his office.

You left without a word, but it felt like something of yours had stayed there, with them. Like they’d chipped away a piece of you and left it lying there on the carpet.

As you walked aimlessly for hours, the city started to feel like it was dying around you.

The night was made of flickering street lights, sirens, broken glass and junkies. You thought about leaving, starting somewhere fresh, but what was the point? You'd have to take your baggage with you wherever you went.

Keeping your head down and your pace swift, you half-listened to the faded whispers of people passing you in the street, but even those were eventually drowned out by the pattering of rain against the sidewalk.

Turning into one of the city’s many dreary backstreets, you saw a solitary neon sign bathing the uneven concrete and murky puddles in a jarring red light.

The only place that was open this late, Stark’s Bar.

It was the end of the earth, the rock under which all the sad and lonely insects of the city crawled. You’d never been inside, never before sunk low enough to warrant a visit, but tonight it seemed to be calling your name.

As soon as you tugged the door open, the heavy scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke hit you like a wall, knocking you backwards. But inside was warm, dry and quiet.

That’s all you wanted.

Keeping your eyes fixed on the sticky, creaking floor, you trudged towards the bar, taking the first free stool you found. A broad torso planted itself opposite you, blocking out the dim light that streamed from underneath the crooked lampshades.

‘Double scotch.’

‘You sure you’re in the right place?’

The torso’s low voice came from above your head, but you didn’t bother glancing up. You didn’t have the energy or the inclination for conversation right now.

‘Double scotch.’

The dim light returned, only interrupted again when a tumbler flecked with hard water stains and half-full of liquor was dropped in front of you.

You stared at that glass for what felt like hours, just thinking.

There was no way you could go home tonight. You’d struggle to ever set foot in that apartment again, the whole place was scattered with painful reminders of everything you’d lost. Maybe you should call your mom, ask her to pick a few things up for you.

Tomorrow.

Tonight, just find a motel and sob yourself to sleep.

---

I know you're wondering why you wish you were dead And there's no solace in the fact that it's all in your head

That flickering red light just kept leading you back to where you knew you belonged.

You dropped yourself on the same barstool and waited for the torso to plant itself in front of you again, ordering the same drink as you had for the past however many nights you’d been here. They all seemed to blur into one.

Something different happened this time, though.

The shadow didn’t shift. You waited, eyes fixed downwards, but the dim yellow light didn’t return.

‘Are you alright?’

This was only the second time you’d heard the torso speak, but the voice was much firmer than last time.

‘Fine.’

‘So you’re depressed and a liar? Not a great combination.’

Your eyes shot up, widening a little as you took in the monolith of a man in front of you. His dark, stained t-shirt was stretched over his thick shoulders, bright pink lips trained into a slight smirk as he kept his gaze fixed on you.

‘Excuse me?’

He placed his hands flat on the counter either side of you, bracing himself against the bar and bringing his face down to level with yours. ‘You been in here four nights in a row. Ordered a double scotch without even looking at me, sat for a couple hours staring at it and then left without a word. You’re telling me you’re fine? Whatever.’

'Maybe it's none of your goddamn business, asshole.'

'So drink at home.’

You watched him back away, his sharp blue eyes only breaking from yours when he eventually turned around.

He was right, you definitely weren’t fine, but you figured the only thing sadder than drinking in this place was picking up a ten dollar bottle of whiskey from a liquor store and drinking it alone in your motel room.

Besides, it made you feel a little better knowing that you probably weren’t the most tragic loser in the place.

---

Don't bother flying when we jump off the cliff Make sure it's head first if you don't want to deal with what ifs

When you arrived the next night, a double scotch was waiting on the bar above your usual stool.

You flicked your eyes up to the bartender, who gave you a nod and a knowing smile as you climbed onto your seat, your gaze slowly wandering down the length of his arms. The way they tensed and shifted as he slowly polished a glass was almost mesmerising.

It was only a minute or so before he approached.

‘Still fine?’

Maybe it was the crippling loneliness, the bottle of wine you’d had earlier in your motel room or just the fact that he was the only human being who’d smiled at you all week, but the idea of opening up and spilling all to this perfect stranger really wasn’t as unappealing as it should’ve been.

‘Been better.’

‘No shit.’ He reached a bottle of scotch from under the counter and topped up your drink, knowing full well you hadn’t so much as touched it yet. ‘I always thought we should rename this place Rock Bottom.’

A faint laugh escaped your lips. ‘Funnily enough, that doesn’t make me feel much better.’

‘Maybe not.’ He edged your drink a little closer to you. ‘But this will.’

The golden liquid rippled around the glass as you plucked it from the bar, squeezing your eyes shut and necking it down in one.

His smile widened into an astonished grin, making your face begin to heat up and your chest tighten slightly.

‘Bucky.’

‘Y/n.’ You felt the corners of your mouth curl up slightly, a movement they’d almost forgotten.

‘Nice smile, y/n.’

Your gaze stayed on him as he went back to work, serving all the other hopeless nonentities propping themselves up on the bar. It only wavered when you felt your phone vibrate against your thigh.

It was him, your ex, asking if you could talk. He wanted to work things out.

Five days since it’d happened and this was the first time he’d tried to get in touch.

This fucking asshole had banged some random bitch in your bed, made you to live out of a duffle bag in a sleazy motel for almost a week and then expected you to come crawling back as soon as he whistled?

Fuck, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He knew you’d be low and vulnerable. He knew you’d be tempted. He knew that, even now, you were still wrapped around his little finger.

And it hurts, and it hurts But I don't wanna talk about it

A rogue tear escaped from the corner of your eye, rolling halfway down your cheek before being quickly and firmly wiped away, its brief presence going unnoticed by most of the other figures scattered around the bar.

Most, not all.

‘Hey, you see that dude over there?’

Bucky folded his arms on top of the bar so he was eye level with you, gesturing his head slightly towards a white-haired man in a three piece suit, sitting alone at a table in the corner behind two empty martini glasses.

You had no idea where this was going, but you were pretty glad for the distraction. ‘Mhmm.’

‘Used to be a millionaire. Invested all his money in CDs in ‘98 and lost it all when Steve Jobs invented the iPod. He was married to Claudia Schiffer for a couple months but she left him when he couldn’t afford to pay for her nose job.’

A single, full-throated guffaw escaped your lips, making you clamp your hand over your mouth before slowly lowering it and muttering. ‘That is absolute bullshit.’

‘You got me.’ He leaned in a little. ‘Fun though, right? You try.’

You bit your lip slightly, gazing at him for a few seconds before reluctantly nodding and beginning to scan the room. This place was so full of eccentrics and weirdos, it was difficult to choose just one.

'Alright. Woman over there.’

Bucky twisted slightly to look at a very broad, stern-looking woman sitting at the bar, wisps of dyed red hair clinging to the moisture on her forehead. ‘Go on.’

‘She used to work security for Bryan Adams. The two of them were best friends, but he fired her after she got hammered and told him that she was in love with him. She can’t listen to Summer of ‘69 without sobbing, he broke her heart.’

His eyes darted back to you. ‘And how did she feel about that?’

Your gaze was fixed on your subject but it felt more like you were looking straight through her, your mind wandering somewhere else entirely, words falling into your mouth spilling out involuntarily.

‘Like someone shoved their hand into her chest, grabbed a handful of anything they could feel and just ripped it out. Like all the sensations in her body had been permanently replaced with waves of fear and dread that got better and worse at seemingly random intervals. Like the last four years of her life meant nothing to-’

You stopped suddenly, eyes shooting back towards him as you realised what you'd said. He stood up straight, triumphantly folding his arms across his broad chest, smirking down at you.

‘Bingo.’

'Oh what do you think you are, a fucking shrink?'

'In this job, gotta be.'

'Cause in my dreams, I miss you Then I wake up to reality's bliss

For the first time, you decided to hang around at the bar until it closed. You weren’t sure why, you had no idea what you were hoping would happen, but every minute that passed made your motel room seem less and less appealing.

Bucky called last orders, and minutes later the few remaining dispossessed wandered out into the red-bathed side street.

You hoisted yourself onto your feet, turning to leave but stopping dead when a full bottle of whiskey was firmly planted on the bar in front of you, a very smug-looking barman smirking at you from behind it.

The two of you sequestered yourselves to a snug, dimly lit corner and began sharing the liquor straight from the bottle.

As you stared blankly out the front window, you could feel his eyes roaming over you, a sensation you were enjoying far more than you were letting on. Being this close, you could pick up his faint scent of old spice and cigarettes, you could hear his deep, slow breathing and feel his muscular thigh pressed up against yours.

‘He messed you up pretty good, huh?’ You nodded faintly, keeping your gaze fixed forward. ‘Wanna talk about it?’

‘Nothing to say, really. After four years I caught him fucking someone else. It is what it is.’

He scoffed, taking a long swig before holding the bottle out to you. ‘What a fucking asshole.’

‘Mhmm.’

‘If it helps, my last girlfriend stole my TV to buy weed.’

You almost choked on a mouthful of liquor, just about managing to swallow it as you choked back fits of laughter. ‘That does help, actually.’

‘Thought it might.’ He reached over and gently pried the bottle from your hand, placing it on the table and shifting himself to face you. ‘Seems like we’re both shit outta luck.’

‘You’re not wrong there.’

As you slowly turned towards him, the wild look in his eyes made the hard thumping in your chest quicken, your lungs tightening slightly as you rapidly pulled in shallow breaths. You to adjusted yourself as his arm slid over the back of your seat.

Letting your eyelids flutter closed, you focused on the gentle stroking of his fingertips over your shoulder, the feeling of his warm breath brushing over your lips as he leant towards you, the soft pressure of the side of his nose against yours and the muffled bump as your foreheads connected.

Everything else melted from your mind, all the stress and misery of the last few days briefly disappearing in the distance as you just let yourself live in this moment.

His hand moved up to cradle the side of your face, drawing it towards his and finally closing the gap between you.

Now all I ever wanted and all I ever needed is right here In the stranger's kiss.

---

Permanent Taglist: @nnuree @tcc-gizmachine @emmabarnes @somewhatasoftbaddie @juenenfeu @ddowii @rebekahdawkins @x0xchristine @maevemarethyu @thechaoticargonaut @yayrainday @linkpk88 @mcolbz14 @indigo123789 @verygraphicink (Italicised names are untaggable)

---

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parkersbliss · 5 years ago

Text

High Up There | T. Holland

Paring: Tom Holland X Female Reader

Warnings: Language

@dylanstilinskiposts requested: LISTEN I am obSESSED with interviews w Tom x reader so please do one where it’s Tom and reader on Ellen’s game of games and they’re doing the one where a persons in the air on a harness and their partner is like “_ can name 5 cities!” Or somethin like that y/n is in the air and Tom on the ground and they’re bickering the whole time like when KBell and Dax did it please I’m BEGGING

WC: 1.3K

Masterlist | Taglist

...

"Welcome to Ellen's game of games!" Ellen announces. "Today we are playing you bet your girlfriend with Tom Holland and (Y/N) (L/N) against Natalia Dyer and Charlie Heaton!"

Tom's hand is around your waist, pulling you close as you all wave at the camera. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, causing you to blush and scrunch up your nose. Ellen goes on about the rules of the game and turns toward the couples.

"The way this game works is both Natalia and (Y/N) will be strapped into these two harnesses, blindfolded, they will be suspended above this mattress." She motions to the setup where both you and Natalia were currently strapped into, "Tom and Charlie will stand behind the podiums and I will announce a category, like cereal. Tom will say, 'I bet my girlfriend can name six brands of cereal. Charlie can either challenge or bet higher. They have thirty seconds to complete the bet. If she can't, she will drop and if she can, the other person drops. The first one to hit the mattress loses, Are we ready?"

Everyone nods their heads and Ellen pushes a button, causing you to be lifted out of Tom's arms as he slips your mask over your eyes.

"Good luck, darlin' don't lose this for me," Tom winks.

"I won't lose if you don't bet like you do at pubs."

Tom places a hand over his heart while walking to stand behind the podium, "And here I thought we were a team."

"Your first category is boy bands!" Ellen said.

"I bet my girlfriend can name eight boy bands!" Tom said.

"What?" You shriek. "Eight? I can barely name three!"

Tom shrugs from his place on the ground, "Oh well, guess you'll drop."

"TOM!"

Charlie chuckles, "I challenge."

Natalia groans from her stop beside you, "You're kidding me!"

"You have thirty seconds, go!"

"Wait, what? No, no oh my gosh," You panic.

"C'mon babe!"

"Jonas brothers, the Beatles, shoot, oh big time rush, crap does one direction count?"

"They just made a comeback!" Tom shouts from below.

"Backstreet Boys! Five seconds of summer, Tom help me!"

There's a terminal beep that goes off signaling the end of your time.

"Unfortunately, I have to drop you now," Ellen said, a smile evident.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no!" You cry, curling yourself into a small ball.

"Are you ready?"

"NO!"

"She means yes," Tom interjects.

"I do not!"

"I have to drop you."

"Yeah, yeah okay," You agree, bracing yourself.

"I'm right here, love!" Tom calls out, laughing at your state.

"This is your fau-" You don't get to finish your sentence as you begin to fall, you scream, feeling your stomach drop when the harness tugs you back into a resting position.

The crowd interrupts into laughter and you cross your arms, "not funny."

"Our next category is Netflix shows!"

Charlie immediately buzzes in, "I bet my girlfriend can name eight Netflix shows!"

"I bet mine can name nine!"

"Thomas Stanely Holland I am going to kill you!"

Tom chuckles, "Sure love, we'll see about that."

"Let's see it," Charlie smirks.

Natalia groans from next to you, "This is so unfair! Okay let's see," She begins listing show, starting with her own. "To all the boys?"

"That's a movie!"

"Wait no!"

The timer beeps and Natalia drops, you're not sure how much but you hope she's on your level.

"Moving on, types of dance!"

"Any hints, darling?" Tom asks. You give him six fingers.

"Eight?" he jokes.

"Tom!" You warn.

"Okay, okay, I bet my girlfriend can name eight types of dances."

"You div!" You shout at him. Eight. This bastard.

"I love you!"

"I hate you!"

Tom pouts, but obviously, you can't see it.

"I'll challenge," Charlie decides.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes," Tom answers for you.

"Oh boy, ok. Ballet, Jazz, contemporary, hip- hop, ballroom, musical theatre, salsa and uh," You curse under your breath.

"One more!"

"Tom shut up!"

"I did it all the time when I was little!"

"Tap!"

The crowd cheers as you take a deep breath, knowing you'd be safe. Natalia drops again, Charlie stutters a sorry through his laughter. Natalia scowls him. She only had one drop left while you had about two or three.

Ellen pulls out the next card, "Disney princesses!"

"I bet my girlfriend can name six Disney princesses!" Charlie said.

Tom smirks, "I bet my girlfriend can name seven!"

"Eight!"

"Nine!"

"Alright, let's go," Charlie challenges, clapping his hands together. "You got this Natalia!"

Natalia groans, "No, I don't! Good going!"

Charlie winces but gives her a thumbs up even if she can't see it. Making Tom laugh.

"Ready?"

"Yeah, I think so. Okay, um, Ariel, Belle, Aurora.. shoot, Rapunzel, Cinderella?"

The crowd cheers Natalia on, making her laugh nervously.

"Three more!" Charlie encourages.

"Ahh, uh, Jasmine, Anna and uh, the one who sails! What's her name, oh Moana!" The Timer cuts Natalia off right as she says Moana.

"That was nine! Alright, that means you're being dropped, (Y/N)."

"No, no, no, no!"

Tom laughs, "scared?"

"You'd be too if you were strapped into a harness blindfolded!"

"Love, you forget, I'm Spiderman."

"Whatever, listen when I get out of this harness I am goi-" Tom gives the signal to just drop you and cut off your rambling. You shriek as you drop, feeling your heart pound. God, how you missed the ground at this moment. You were so going to murder Tom after this.

Ellen pulls out the final card, "Makeup products!"

"I bet my girlfriend can name nine products!" Tom shouted. You felt pretty confident with that. Nine was probably your morning routine.

"Ten!" Charlie bets.

"Eleven!"

"Twelve!"

"Charlie!" Natalia screams.

"Thirteen!" Tom said, grinning.

"Challenge accepted," Charlie agrees.

"Are we ready?"

"Uh-huh," You said, running through all the products in your mind.

"GO!"

"Foundation, concealer, eye shadow, baking powder, blush, highlighter, bronzer, mascara, eyebrow gel..." You trail off, racking your brain for more products.

"Lipstick, Lipliner..."

"Two more, darlin'" Tom said, hands clasped tightly together.

"Brow pencil and false lashes!"

Tom cheers, "Yes! You did it!"

You take a deep breath, laughing at your boyfriend's excitement. You could imagine the shit-eating grin he was wearing right now. Ellen drops Natalia, a soft thud signaling she hit the mat.

"Tom and (Y/N) win! You may take off your blindfolds!"

Natalia rips hers off, sitting on the edge of the mat as Charlie comes to her side. You slide yours up to rest on your forehead.

Tom runs to stand at the edge of the mat, "You did it!"

You roll your eyes, "you're in for it when I get down."

"I can drop you now," Ellen offers.

You laugh nerveously, but nod your head knowing Tom would be right by your side when you fall. Ellen pulls the lever and you feel yourself scream for a second, eyes screwed shut as you collapse onto the matt. Tom immediately runs to your side, scooping you out of the harness. He places you gently on the ground and you cross your arms, glaring at him.

"Oh C'mon baby," He said.

"You're the worse," You said, arms still crossed. Tom chuckles pulling you into his chest, "Mm but you love me."

He places a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you (begrudgingly) wrap your arms around his torso and pull him a bit closer. You look up at him and press a soft kiss to his lips. Tom grins, "See? You love me."

"Don't push it Holland."

Tom puts his arms up in surrender.

"Wouldn't want one of your Spidey stunts to go wrong," You wink.

Tom's jaw drops as he looks into the audience, "Do you see what I have to deal with?"

"I said don't push it!"

"I love her though!" He quickly says, the audience laughs as you and Tom both interlock hands and run off stage.

"One of these days Holland I will really murder you," You smile.

"Just not today," He concludes, kissing you again.

Tagged: @honeybittersweet

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chokemeanakin · 4 years ago

Text

Anakin Teaches You How To Drive Headcanons- Anakin Skywalker x gn Reader

Masterlist

This wasn’t requested, but in honor of my second attempt at passing my drivers test in a couple of weeks, I had a fun little thing bouncing around my brain that I wanted to put out. have fun 😝✨

You never needed to know how to drive an airspeeder because you came from a more rural planet where transportation mostly consisted of walking, riding on the backs of various indigenous wildlife, or occasionally coming across a run-down speeder bike.

When you got to Coruscant, you always relied on taking the busy streets or the bus to get places you needed to go. Anakin insisted you take an airspeeder instead— it was safer, faster, and much cleaner than slumming it around down in the crowded alleyways.

You had to tell him it wasn’t really a possibility for you... although you knew the basics of piloting starfighters, that knowledge did not carry over to airspeeders.

Anakin offered to teach you.

He picked you up on your balcony, seated in a slick-looking, boujee yellow airspeeder.

“Where’d you even get this?” You asked him, taking the hand he offered to help you get into the drivers seat as he slid over to the passenger side.

“Oh, just some senator.”

“They’re letting us use it?”

“They’re letting us borrow it...” from the look on his face, they were not. He shrugged and said, “Look, what they don’t know can’t hurt them.”

You looked at the shiny exterior of the car. It was one of the more expensive ones, no doubt. Anakin truly had an eye for picking the finer things in life.

“If I crash this...” you warned.

“I know how to cover our tracks. It wasn’t us.”

You laughed at this, and then turned toward the controls. There were handles, buttons, levers, flashing lights. You thought a good place to start was by grabbing onto the levers.

“Alright, so these handles are to steer— turn left to go left, right to go right— the pedals by your feet are break and accelerate, this lever puts you in reverse, this one puts you in drive, there’s your headlight, that’s your turn signal—“ and on and on and on.

Your brain was whirring with all this information, sometimes Anakin’s brain moved too fast and he didn’t realize he’d left you in the dust. But it really was something you could handle— not that much different from a star fighter, after all.

So when he asked, “Got it?” You nodded your head and pressed the lever by your feet.

You didn’t move

You pressed again and again and again, jamming your foot down harder each time. You checked the dash to see if you were in drive. You were. You looked at Anakin, confused.

He leaned over and peered down at the levers by your feet. “That’s the break,” he laughed, and then stopped suddenly. “... I hope you’re not planning on driving with your left foot.”

“A foot for each peddle right? Left goes on break, right goes on go?”

“No.”

After squabbling over the senselessness of that rule, he got you to practice going between break and accelerate with your right foot only before actually beginning for real this time.

“Okay, step on accelerate, gently now—“

You pushed the pedal down and went shooting into the sky, narrowly avoiding another speeder as you yanked the steering wheel to straighten yourself out.

“Force! I said gentle!”

You lifted your foot off go and slammed it on break instead, causing you both to pitch forward and almost smack your heads into the dashboard.

“Y/n you have to go! You’re in the middle of the airway!”

“What?? What do you mean?!” You yelled in panic, desperately yanking at the levers to reverse, go forward, anything. There were speeders coming at you from both ways, and you were t-ed up across multiple lanes.

Anakin reached across you and set the settings straight. He ordered you to press go and took hold of the steering, maneuvering you safely away from the airway.

Once you were in the clear, he dropped back into his seat and let out a big breath.

“Okay, bad idea to start you out up there.”

“I SUCK!!!” You cried.

“No no no! That was my mistake! You’re doing great!”

You let out another sound of despair and then tapped on accelerate gently. The speeder smoothly flew forward a couple inches, so you pressed down harder until you got to a good speed.

“See? You’ve got this,” Anakin encouraged, reaching for the safety handle by his side. “Now you’re approaching a building, so turn the levers slowly...”

It was very jerky, but you avoided crashing into the building so it was a win in your book.

“Good!”

You decided you needed to smooth out your turns, so you kept the lever all the way to the left and made donuts in the open air. Then you practiced going the other way.

“Now make figure 8’s around the skylights,” Anakin suggested, so you went around and around these lights in circles until you were dizzy and your turns were perfect. When you wanted to stop, you let up on accelerate and abruptly jammed on break again.

“Oof— geez,” Anakin braced a hand on the dashboard. “You don’t have to slam on the pedals. Just be slow and gentle, it’ll make it a much smoother ride.”

After experimenting a bit more in the free space, you said you were ready to go on the streets again.

“Are you sure?” Anakin asked nervously. You nodded. “Alright, head for the airway but stop before going on. You have to look both ways to make sure no one’s coming at you from either direction.”

You did as told, trusting his instincts more than yours to tell you when to go. When he gave the signal, you burst across the lane and began driving. You didn’t know why Anakin was freaking out again.

“You’re in the wrong lane!” Anakin grabbed for the steering wheel to get you to turn around, but you slapped his hands away.

“I can’t learn when you’re trying to drive for me!”

“You can’t learn if we’re both dead!”

You managed to inch your way into the other lane just as another speeder went whizzing by. Anakin thanked the force this backstreet wasn’t as busy as the usual highways in the main streets of Coruscant, otherwise you’d be toast by now.

“Alright,” Anakin took another calming breath. “There’s a stoplight coming up. You know what the signals are right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Okay, so just go straight after the light.”

You peered around the area, waiting for the light to turn green. You ended up spotting your favorite cafe place and nudged Anakin with your elbow. “You wanna get some drinks?”

“Sure, but we can circle back around if you just go straight.”

“But it’s right there. Why can’t I just take a left?”

Anakin has faith in you, but he saw his life flash before his eyes. “Fine.. take a left.”

He instructed you to put your turn signal on, then explained how you’re supposed to wait for oncoming traffic to go before you and then watch for more oncoming speeders so that you could take the left turn.

The light turned green, and for some reason your jumpy brain had you slam on the gas pedal and skirt through the intersection, bypassing all speeders and causing them to stomp on their breaks to avoid hitting you.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!” You screamed as you sped along, swirving this way and that to get the speeder under control. Multiple honks followed after you, and it wounded your feelings more than you ever imagined it would.

“Hey... they’re honking at me...” you said sadly, peering behind you at the angry cars.

Anakin straightened the levers as you started to swerve. “Just— just focus on parking. Look. A pull-through spot up ahead.”

You were actually phenomenal at parking. If phenomenal meant being crooked across the lines and taking up at least 3 spaces.

When you turned the engine off, you looked at Anakin hesitantly. He was staring straight a head, blinking the disbelieving look out of his eyes.

“I’m never stepping foot in a speeder ever again,” you decided, confidence plummeting.

This snapped Anakin out of it, and he took your hands in his. “Don’t say that! It’s your first day. Driving in a speeder is much different than a star fighter, there’s many more obstacles and rules and regulations. As far as first days go, you’re doing better than even I did!”

“Really?”

You weren’t, but he lied because he loves you.

You both went in to get your drinks and then Anakin insisted he drive the way back home.

You wanted to focus on your drink anyway so you let him. Honestly, you were done testing your luck today and were just happy you didn’t crash the damn thing.

Anakin dropped you off back on your balcony again and promised to come over later after he returned the speeder. He also promised he’d take you out driving again— “This weekend, when the streets aren’t so busy...”

With lessons from the best pilot in the galaxy, you think you’ll be driving your own speeder in no time 🥴

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin fic #star wars crack #star wars fic #anakin x reader #self projection fic lol #anakin fluff #driver instructor anakin #they both definitely peed their pants #its funny cause obi and ani’s roles are swapped here #anakins like get me out of here i hate this #OK NO ONE SEEMS TO LIKE THIS ONE BUT I REALLY DO SO THATS ALL THAT MATTERS 😤

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kasieli · 5 years ago

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A/N: Entry for DamiRae week 2020 Day 1, Handcuffed/bound together. There’s just some suggestive themes and (lots of) language (sorry, mouth of a sailor), so this is going to be a T rating. If you’re uncomfortable with depictions of drinking, I suggest you skip this one, since it’s the majority of the fic. This is kind of like a college AU, yeah? Without further ado, let’s start DamiRae week 2020, shall we? ;)

---

Raven hissed out a sigh and rolled her eyes — something she knew she would be doing plenty of times this fine evening.

If there was one thing she hated more than lukewarm tea, it would be stuck in a crowd full of empty, nameless faces, at a raging party, in a freaking house. There was absolutely nowhere to escape, let alone anywhere to breath, and there was always someone invading her personal space which, she hated to admit, was far less than the mere five feet that she deemed satisfactory. God, everyone was nearly on top of her.

She rolled her eyes again.

This is why she despised parties.

Sure, she could have just pushed her way through the sea of wasted college students to save her throbbing ear drums. Sure, she could have just exited the stupid party and gone the hell home. But unfortunately she didn’t even have the simple luxury of using the damned trashed up puke-infested-by-now restroom – or merely shield her ears with both hands if she wanted to.

Jesus Christ, how could she have been convinced by her roommate to attend this shit show? She honestly should have known better. Fraternity parties were never ever good news, she didn’t even need to attend one to know.

And yet here she was, standing in the middle of a jam-packed crowd, in a fraternity house, with a bottle of tequila in one hand, and a handcuff attached to another human being on the other.

That was the quintessential fifths and cuffs party, after all.

Bringing the bottle up to her lips, she quickly threw her head back as she took a greedy swig of tequila and winced, causing some of it to spew from the sides of the bottle and splash over her face and her admittedly too-exposed chest. That, she realized – alongside choosing tequila as her alcohol of choice – was a monumental mistake.

“Woah, slow down!” her ‘date’ next to her exclaimed as he grabbed the bottle out of her hands.

“Give me that back,” she grunted, clawing at his hand.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “At this rate you’re going to finish this in no less than 10 minutes.” Even with the Backstreet Boys bellowing at ungodly volumes around her, she could tell that his voice was half filled with disbelief and the other with amusement. Chuckling slightly, he then followed her lead and took a gulp of tequila, except he did it gracefully. How could someone taking shots straight from a handle look so goddamn perfect? The man didn’t spill a mere drop on his face, as opposed to her scenario and her still damp halter top and the globs of tequila running down her chest.

Rolling her eyes, she snatched the handle from his grip and shot a heated glance over to her ‘date’, “Can’t you tell that’s what I’m trying to do?”

He shook his head and chuckled again.

“That’s not entirely safe, you know.”

“Yeah, thanks for that information, captain obvious,” she growled as she took yet another swig, “I’ll survive,” she managed on a cough.

The reality of the situation, however, was that no matter how fast her and her ‘date’ chugged this bottle of tequila, it would be borderline impossible to get out of these handcuffs without being completely wasted from the sheer amount of poison they were consuming – that is, if they could finish it. God, she knew it was dangerous, too, but the overwhelming desire to get the hell home plus the fact that she was starting to feel the woozy effects of the tequila oozing around her (still) logical senses (for now) was making her reasoning...well...completely unreasonable.

But even with this so-called ‘liquid courage’, she was dumbfounded that anyone would be doing this for fun. At least, the crowd around her seemed to be having a wildly good time. Many were attempting to impress their dates by trying to show off their awful dance moves to some pounding beat (with the bonus side effect of the handcuffed date wiggling along), and some were already starting to eat each other’s faces (no liquid courage needed there). Really, how could this be fun? It was absolute torture.

Her date beside her exhaled a sigh that wasn’t unlike the ones she had been doling out, and it was a teensy bit comforting that at least, to her observation, he wasn’t having a jolly ol’ blast, either.

He clicked his tongue. “Alright, I know we were both dragged here against our will, so, please, let’s not try to get alcohol poisoning.”

She frowned as he took the bottle from her hands once again.

“Alright, Mr. Romantic, I know we were both dragged here against our will, so why don’t we finish this goddamn thing and get the hell out of here,” she spat. Jeez, even she could hear herself rolling her eyes in her voice.

His eyes narrowed. “You’re really going to be calling me that right now?” he scoffed with a voice that wonderfully took the same sarcastic tone.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t talk so much in Romantic Literature, you wouldn’t have that nickname.” She whipped her head around and gave him a hard, steady glare.

He scoffed again and rolled his eyes. “Oh, of course. That.”

For the first time in those how many minutes they were handcuffed together, she hadn’t cared to look at his face, as in really look at his face. This realization whacked her like the first C she got in their shared Romantic Literature class (she was now convinced the professor had a thing against her — she was also convinced that he was the professor’s favorite, the golden student, woohoo!) and she stood there like then, stunned, absolutely immobilized and even almost offended. But she didn’t have the luxury to ponder her placement in their class since the entirety of her muzzy, muddled mind seemed to be focusing on the fact that he was ridiculously and unsettlingly gorgeous. Having looks like that wasn’t fair. She had never seen him so up close before, and while, sure, maybe she thought he was kind of cute when she first saw him sitting stoically in their Romantic Literature class, she had never been able to tell just how incredible that jawline was or that his eyes were green – and a goddamn stunning green, at that.

“If it really offends you, I’ll stop for now,” she successfully retrieved the bottle from his grasp and did exactly what she intended to do, “Damian,” she coughed again after feeling the burn of the tequila inch down her throat.

“Thank you, Mary Wollstonecraft (1),” he countered, smirking.

She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, fuck you,” she jeered as she shoved the bottle into his chest, causing him to catch her wrist in surprise. A few splashes of the tequila sloshed out and spattered onto his shirt. The sweeping motion of her eyes painting over him was almost automatic, and she soon came to realize that the shirt she just ruined was an elegant navy blue button down with a dainty pattern of dots – something that probably wasn’t meant to mop up some tequila droplets spilled by some English nerd. The sleeves were rolled up so that his forearms were exposed, and he had just the top two buttons undone at the collar of his shirt, but it was enough to flaunt that wonderful skin underneath. He always did dress quite nicely to class, and even from the distance, no matter what he wore, hoodie, button downs, t-shirts, she could tell he had a rather...delicious body. A golden boy, he absolutely was.

Oh, god, what was this alcohol doing to her?

“If it really offends you, I’ll stop for now...Raven,” he mimicked, smirking, eyes glued to hers.

Wait...eyes glued to hers?

He was full on staring at her, and his face was so close, when did he get so close? No, she wasn’t stupid, she knew they were handcuffed so obviously they had to be relatively close, but just moments before she swore they were next to each other – now they were face to face. Someone must have merely bumped into him and caused him to do so, but even so, she felt her heart alongside the blaring music strike against her already aching ears.

In no help to ease her already ripening...thoughts, he brought his hand up which was still holding onto her wrist which was still holding onto the bottle to his lips and took a slow sip. She could see that he rested the bottle on his tongue – almost licking it – before those wonderful lips of his enclosed the rest and sipped that tequila as if it was goddamn syrup. He didn’t flinch or tear his eyes away from hers — God, he had such nice eyes — then afterwards he lapped up the rest of the tequila that must have wandered onto his lips.

Okay, that was entirely intentional, she knew, since tequila burned.

“What?” he prodded in a voice that failed to be innocent.

“Nothing,” she huffed as she tore her hand away from his grasp.

She didn’t need the extra warmth, not right now, since she was already starting to sweat. Not solely because it was overly stuffed in the already small fraternity house and the sheer amount of bodies heavily increased the temperature, but also because of...him. Jeez, at this point, it wasn’t only the alcohol that was making her skin burn.

Her eyes averted to the bottle as she ripped it back from his hands and took a gulp, an awfully clumsy gulp, and to her dismay, but not surprise, covered herself in tequila once again.

A small chuckle from Damian made her blink up to look at him, only to find his eyes drifting off to an area much below hers.

“Oh, look at you, you’ve made a mess,” he whispered, “now you’re all wet.”

Fuck.

He was definitely flirting with her.

How could the know-it-all boy that could out talk their professor possibly be flirting with her? And more so, doing it successfully?

She couldn’t help but glance down at her chest and watch as the pesky droplets of tequila slid down before disappearing behind the edge of her halter top. In addition, the ample lighting provided by the sad excuse of a disco ball struck her chest in a way that illuminated both the thin sheet of sweat and the beads of tequila on her chest, emphasizing what made her a woman, as opposed to a man.

“Your top is cute,” he added nonchalantly, successfully taking the bottle back and swallowing yet another deliberate, drawn out sip. This time, he didn’t care to lick the leftover tequila from his lips and boy — what was she thinking? He was eyeing her carefully, his eyes filled with a sort of wicked curiosity as he waited, presumably, for a response.

At this point the alcohol was hitting her — hard. It was making the world spin wildly around her and the music fuzzy and her face numb, and for all things good, bad, and in between, the only thing she could focus on right now was how hot this man in front of her was. She really, really, really wanted to know if his bare chest was just as sculpted as she hypothesized it to be.

“It’s getting hot in here, isn’t it?” He asked almost aimlessly, ‘innocently’, once again.

He peered around them, tilting his head. It may have not been intentional on his part, but by doing so, he freed his neck from his shirt collar, giving her an ample view of that incredible jawline...and his neck...her eyes trailed down more to his collarbone, just above where his shirt scraped the edges of his skin, and she could see the small beads of sweat dripping from his hair, and she suddenly had an urge to get rid of them, wipe them off by...whatever means necessary.

“Yeah…” she responded, in a soft, senseless voice.

“Here, help me unbutton this, would you?”

Raising their handcuffed hands, he toyed at the top most button on his shirt. She felt her cheeks flare, even though they were numb — or so she thought.

“W...What?” she stammered.

“The top button, it’s getting hot. Help me undo it,” he stated plainly as if his request was as simple as taking out the trash.

“Fine.” She shook her head and obeyed — why did she obey? He wasn’t bound — he was simply just handcuffed. He could have done it himself, she knew he could have done it himself, and yet here she was, almost undressing him. Almost.

Her hands were shaky against his chest and, Jesus Christ, he was sweating under that fitted navy blue button down, she could see it on the newly exposed skin on his chest and, fuck, was it hot. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe or else she’d smell that scent that trailed off of him and destroy the last barrier she had controlling herself from tasting that skin of his neck.

He shifted so that her face was almost pressed up against that bare skin and cursed — it was like he was reading her fucking mind.

“Are you alright?” Despite the music, his voice was low, gruff, and breathy, and it seemed to be the only thing she could hear now – besides her heart which was also squirming uncomfortably in her chest, screaming at her to get the hell out of there. “You seem a little...tight.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She turned her face away so that a thick curtain of hair could provide somewhat of a barrier between her and his bare chest and cleared her throat. Well, her throat was tight, that’s for sure.

“I’m fine,” she lied. Definitely not fine. “I could just use a little fresh air, that’s all.” Definitely true.

And space. Lots of goddamn space. Space from him, but that wasn’t going to happen any time soon now was it? After all, they still had half the bottle left to go.

“Oh, you should have said something,” he replied as he took her hand. “Come with me.”

As if she had a choice.

Before leading her presumably outside the house, he paused momentarily by the kitchen counter and turned to her, an eyebrow raised, and a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, by the way, you don’t want this anymore, do you?”

Standing beside a massive plastic tub filled with a so called ‘jungle juice’, he raised the handle of tequila over the top, tipped it over, and —

“Oops.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait, you can’t get rid of that —”

“Shh, calm down,” he leaned in close so that his lips brushed her ear. “You wouldn’t tell on me, would you?”

He wasn’t even looking at the tequila bottle as the rest of her sweet, burning escape (now, in more ways than one) glugged into the jungle juice. She, however, was examining it as if it were some sort of masterpiece, keeping her eyes glued as the rest of the contents sputtered to a stop.

She swallowed hard, clenching her jaw. “No…”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Good girl.”

Fuuuuuuuuuuck.

“See? Now we can get out of these.” He flashed a sly smile at her before she saw something else sparkle between his fingers.

Her eyes widened. Again.

“You had the key this whole time?”

Without even giving her a semblance of a reply, he was already leading her outside, and before she knew it, they had perched onto a bench on the patio, and he was inserting the key into the lock and with a not-so-satisfying click!, she was...free.

The look he gave her next...well...it was...jeez. His hair was slightly unkempt because he had pushed it to the side, and she could see that his cheeks were almost imperceptibly tickled pink presumably by the effects of the alcohol, and now, with the hazy moonlight and twinkling patio lights, she could see those green gems he called eyes better, and they were hungry. The alcohol was gradually draining from her, she could feel it, but there was still enough in her, still enough wrapping around her senses that, without another thought, her now-free hand found his cheek and turned his face towards her, her breathing heavy even though she finally had fresh air. She never, ever wanted to kiss another human being so badly, never had such a burning desire for someone before, and here he was, a-sexy-as-hell man, basically taunting her to do so the whole goddamn night.

There was an ever so slightly widening of his eyes, before his expression went soft and a lopsided grin settled on his face once again. God, he was so beautiful.

“What do you want?” He hummed in a low voice.

She exhaled slowly, shakily, almost growling.

“You know what I want.”

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Oh? Do I, now?”

This...‘innocent’ act he was playing...he wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer.

She rolled her eyes, biting her lip, and she saw that he was intently watching every damn second as she did so. Oh, she was absolutely 100% certain that he did know.

She was about to reply, but before she could say anything he leaned forward and tucked her hair behind her ears, then with those wonderful lips started exploring her neck. Man, she was glad he didn’t make her ask -- or beg. His lips felt so nice...they were so soft...he was surprisingly gentle, kissing her neck tenderly as if she were a delicate piece of art. It was exactly what she wanted but not remotely enough -- all at once.

With an abrupt call from one of his friends, he stopped immediately. His eyes rolled up to meet hers as he tousled his already messy hair. “My, my...looks like I have to go,” he whispered. But that look in his eyes, she knew what it was, and she was sure as hell he didn’t want to leave just yet.

“Stay,” she commanded, tugging at that navy blue button down. “You’re not done yet.”

He chuckled.

“I’m not a bad boy,” he replied with a smirk, twisting a strand of her hair between his fingers. He pressed his lips against her ears, and she felt the hairs on her skin rise, something like electricity surging through her skin. “If you feel the same way tomorrow then…”

This time he nibbled her ear but she couldn’t seem to decide what to focus on because his hand was also traveling up her leg and he smelled so good and he was oh so warm, and, god, was going to this party a wonderful fucking idea.

“...Here, I’ll put my number on your phone.”

Her eyes shot down in a surprise. Oh, so he was reaching for her phone, not...something else. He handed back her phone and as she glanced down at her contact list, there it was, like he promised: ‘Mr. Romantic’ — complete with a goddamn heart emoji.

He stood up and tilted his head as a smirk tickled his lips.

“See you in class, Raven.”

1. Mary Wollstonecraft was a writer in the late 1700s. One of her most notable works was A Vindication of the Rights of Women, and she is regarded to be one of the earliest feminist philosophers, so Damian is teasing Raven about being a strong feminist voice in their class. Not that he’s against it, he’s just teasing her since she teased him.

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