#who’s helping them or their friends find a place in New York
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lowkeyhollland · 1 day ago
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peter parker x reader heeeaaaavily inspired by 'The Room Incident' by lemonsandlimes on ao3 you & peter are roommates, but the absolute complete opposite of each other. or are you?
You put the finishing touches on your makeup, giving yourself one last look in the mirror to approve your appearance. Slipping into a mini black dress, you paired it with black knee-high boots and grabbed your oversized jean jacket. Checking the pockets to make sure you had everything, you turned off the lights in your room and headed out.
“I’m going out tonight, Peter!” you told your roommate as you walked toward the front door, passing the living room. He and his friends were having a movie night, most of them focused on the screen.
“Okay, be safe,” he said, not taking his eyes off the movie.
“I’ll share my location with you.” You opened your phone to the Find My Friends app, hitting the 'Share Until the End of Day' feature with Peter.
“Sounds good,” Peter responded, feeling bad if he didn’t say anything. You glanced back one last time before heading out, hearing one of his friends ask, “Who was that?” as you left.
You had just moved into this new apartment about three weeks ago, right before the start of a new school year. Last semester, your previous roommate decided to drop out of school and move back home, leaving you both roommate-less and homeless. One of your friends had told you about Peter and how he was looking for a roommate since his apartment was getting a bit pricey for him. After a few weeks of getting to know each other, it seemed like you both would be a great fit as roommates, even though you were quite the opposite of each other.
You had fallen in love with the nightlife of New York during your first year of college, never turning down the chance to go out and party. Meanwhile, your roommate, Peter, stayed in more often or had work. Actually, you didn’t know much about him; tonight was the first time you had seen him with his friends. You felt bad because you had already had a few sleepovers with your best friend to break in the new place.
Locking up the door behind you, you made your way out into the city that never sleeps and to your friend’s apartment to pregame. 
-
The night was still young, but you were a shot too deep. Stumbling along the sidewalk, your friends helped guide you home. It was definitely one way to kick off the new school year.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” your best friend, Kiara, asked. You nodded and hugged her in thanks as she helped you up to your floor.
The jingle of your keys echoed softly through the hallway, but you made sure to unlock the door quietly in case Peter was awake. The main lights were off, leaving the kitchen dimly lit by the glow of the cabinet underlights. On the counter, something caught your eye—a glass of water, a couple of painkillers, and a sticky note.
Hope ur not too drunk! Drink this and take some painkillers before u sleep. Trust. — Peter :P
You smiled to yourself, fiddling with the corner of the note. Taking the painkillers, you downed the water and already started to feel a little better. Back in your room, you stuck the sticky note on your wall, adding it to a collage of film pictures, posters, and other notes from friends.
After rushing through your night routine, you finally crawled into your cozy bed, turned on your heated blanket, and fell asleep in seconds.
-
Thump!
You jolted awake at the sound of something hitting the wooden floor. Heart pounding, you grabbed your phone and turned on the flashlight—only to find yourself staring at someone dressed in red spandex lying on your floor.
“...Ow,” the stranger groaned.
Frozen in place, you weren’t sure what to do. The masked figure sat up, glancing around your room, taking in the pink sheets and fairy lights.
“Um... Spider-Man?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“Sorry, miss. I, uh, must’ve made a—ow—mistake,” he mumbled, his voice low.
Your flashlight moved lower, revealing rips in his suit and blood gushing out of his side.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” you panicked, stumbling out of bed and helping him prop himself against it. “Let me grab the first-aid kit!”
“No, it’s okay. Just... just give me a minute,” Spider-Man tried to reassure you, but by the time he glanced up, your door was wide open, your bed empty.
Moments later, you returned with the kit and some towels. “Okay, here we go. I’m not an expert or anything, but—wow, that’s a lot of blood. Um...” You fumbled with an alcohol swab and started cleaning his wound.
Spider-Man winced, small groans escaping as you worked. Trying not to freak out, you avoided looking directly at the blood.
“Here—just, um—” He grabbed your hand, pressing it and the towel against his side. “Apply pressure. That should stop the bleeding.”
“Got it,” you whispered, focusing intently.
“How’s your night going?” he asked, his voice lighter now despite the pain.
“It’s... alright. Drank a little more than I should’ve, but my roommate is the sweetest—he left water and Advil for me. Definitely had a night.”
“I can tell,” he chuckled, “by the smudged mascara.” Your face flushed with embarrassment as you let your hair fall forward to hide it. Spider-Man reached out, gently tucking your hair behind your ear.“Sorry—not in a bad way. You still look beautiful.”
“Oh, um, thanks,” you stammered, caught off guard. “You’re, uh, pretty cool too. I think. I mean, you probably are, but I’ve only known you for, like, an hour—so I’m gonna stop talking now.”
“You’re cute when you ramble,” he chuckled, ruffling your hair.
After bandaging him up, Spider-Man stood, steadying himself. “This has been fun,” he said, stepping toward the window. “i’m gonna go now, it was nice meeting you…”
“y/n,” you finished his sentence. he repeated your name under his breath, hearing how it sounds from his mouth. He thanked you once again for fixing him up.
“Will I see you again, Spidey?” you asked as he hesitated on the fire escape. He paused, the mask hiding his expression.
 “Anything for you, beautiful. Goodnight.” And with that, he swung into the night, disappearing into the darkness. You curled back into bed, unsure if the night’s events were real, and drifted into a dreamless sleep.
The morning sun woke you, and to your relief, you didn’t have a hangover. Slipping into your slippers and university hoodie, you headed to the kitchen.
“Morning,” Peter greeted you.
“Good morning,” you replied, grabbing iced coffee from the fridge. You mixed it with creamer and ice, savoring the start of your day. “I had the weirdest night.”
“Oh yeah?” Peter raised an eyebrow as he served you a plate of eggs.
“Yeah. I might’ve been way too drunk... or Spider-Man paid me a visit last night.” You thought you heard Peter choke on his coffee, but you were too focused on your plate to notice.
“Must’ve been a wild night,” he said.
“Yeah... for sure,” you replied, unsure how to interpret his reaction.
The rest of the morning passed in small talk—shows Peter was watching, what you and your friends did last night. But as the day went on, you couldn’t shake the thought of the masked hero.
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puthyflapps · 2 years ago
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I'm kind of obsessed that no one really cares that gen q got canceled. Do you know how bad a show has to be for the twitter lesbians NOT to start a # to try and save it? Granted it's probably because the reboot is already in the works but it's still so funny to me.
There was a hashtag going around before any renewal/cancellation news dropped and the funny part is the # wasn’t aiming to save Gen Q but to basically do what they’re doing now which is completely scrap the show and start over so lmaooo what a win for the girlies
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punkshort · 6 months ago
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In Another Life | Part I
Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader (time travel au)
Chapter Summary: Your brother and his friend surprise you after work with a handsome stranger crashing on your couch who claims to be from Ancient Rome.
Chapter Warnings: language, food consumption, major romcom vibes, mentions of prostitution, mentions of OC death, mentions of OC pregnancy, flirting, sexual tension
WC: 6.5K
A/N: this is a soft/romcom Marcus Acacius mini-series. Heavily inspired by Kate & Leopold. Also, let's just assume Ancient Romans spoke and could read English.
Series Masterlist
Time was of the essence. He had to move quick.
People would say he was a coward, no doubt his legacy would be tarnished, but if he escaped with his life, so be it.
He didn't bother with spare clothes, just an extra set of sandals and food thrown into a satchel before he crept down the dimly lit hallway, careful not to wake one of his many servants.
He loved his palace. It was a place of peace and comfort for him, but come morning, it would be ripped away and he would be thrown into the pit. A general, Rome's deadly sword and the Emperor's right hand man, would become a lowly gladiator. Trained to perform and kill for amusement.
And all because he refused to play the Emperor's sick game.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't help train another legion of young men half his age to fight and die for their vanity. For their greed. When the Emperor announced his new task, all he could think of was his unborn son. He would be of age now, had he lived. He could have been training him to die.
He padded down the stone steps softly, hardly making a sound, his combat training serving him well. He managed to get just outside the city limits while it was still dark, but he could see the glow from the sun breaking the horizon. He didn't have much time to find a place to hide. He was still too close, and no doubt warriors would be looking for him once Geta realized he had fled.
Gods above, if they found him... his fate would be far worse than one of a gladiator.
He stumbled across a small clearing, head twisted around to make sure he was not being followed when he tripped over something large and heavy.
"Oh, shit!" he heard a young male voice exclaim.
Quickly, he unsheathed his sword and aimed it toward the voice. Confusion painted his face when he saw the unusual clothing and utterly strange contraption behind him. Before he had a chance to say anything, leaves rustled and he swung is sword towards the noise. Another young man, similarly dressed to the other, emerged from the thicket.
"State your names. Quick."
"Uh..." the first man trailed off, hands raising slowly in the air. "D-Danny. Daniel. And this is... Victor."
"Dude! C'mon! You know I -"
"Silence!" the general roared as loud as he dared. "What is your business here?"
"Science! Just... experiments. And the like," Danny said hurriedly, glancing at Victor for help. He nodded.
"Yes. Experiments."
"And are you citizens of Rome?"
They paused and looked at one another again.
"We are citizens of... York," Danny said.
"It's new," Victor added.
The general looked back and forth between the two men before ultimately deciding he did not have the time to quarrel with them and they did not appear to be a threat. He dropped his sword to the side and glanced around.
"You did not see me," he said sternly, turning to leave.
"Wait!"
He glanced back over his shoulder, pausing.
"Are you running away?"
"Fleeing," Victor added quietly.
"Fleeing?" Daniel repeated.
"I do not see it fit for you to ask such questions of someone above your station," he snarled. The two men exchanged worried looks before continuing.
"We're leaving. If you're looking to jet, you can... y'know," Danny said, jutting a thumb over his shoulder towards the strange looking contraption.
"Can you get me to Greece?"
They grinned and nodded.
"Sure, dude."
The general glanced around once again, his brow furrowing when he saw the light stretching high into the sky, brightening the landscape and soon, giving his position away.
"Then I accept."
He sheathed his sword and stomped over to the men, startling them both with his intensity.
Victor turned to unlock a door, struggling a bit before it popped open and crawling inside. Danny stuck out a hand and gave him a nervous smile.
"What's your name?"
His eyes dropped down to the frail looking hand before him, then slowly, as if he couldn't decide, lifted his arm to grasp the inside of Daniel's forearm, giving him a vigorous shake.
"General Marcus Acacius."
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"What the fuck?" you grumbled under your breath, rereading your brother's text.
Danny: I have a friend crashing on the couch, won't stay long
Shuffling your bag onto your other shoulder as you walked down the bustling city street, you tapped out a response.
You: It better not be Lizard.
Danny: It's not, but he's here 2
Danny: Just visiting
Fucking Lizard. You've known him since he was maybe ten years old and you were fairly certain he never matured past that age.
Given you had two extra people waiting for you in your already cramped apartment, you decided to grab a couple pizzas on the way home instead of the sushi you had been thinking about all day. Choosing to be a little selfish, you made one of them a white pizza, it being your favorite, and made your way home with the last bits of energy you had left.
Nothing could have prepared you for what you walked into that day.
You stopped dead in your tracks when you stepped into your apartment, door wide open behind you, two pizza boxes balancing in one hand as you stared blankly at the massive man standing with his back to you in the middle of the living room. He was dressed in some strange type of robe that fell just above his knee and his head was bent, looking at something on your coffee table.
When you cleared your throat, he swung around and defensively placed a hand at his waist. That was when you noticed the massive and very real looking sword at his side and your blood ran cold.
"D-Danny!" you yelled, your eyes glued to the stranger's hand. As if he finally sensed your fear, he dropped his arm and straightened up.
"Apologies-"
"Danny!" you yelled again, louder this time.
"Yeah? Hey! Sorry," Danny said, hurrying into the room with Lizard following on his heels.
"Oh, pizza? Sweet," Lizard said, reaching for the boxes and brushing past you as if an armed man wasn't standing in the middle of your home.
"Who the hell is this?!" you exclaimed, pointing towards the stranger while glaring at your brother.
"I told you already, he's a friend who's crashing on the couch for a few days," he replied, following Lizard into the kitchen, pizza the only concern at that point.
"My lady," the man began again, "please allow me to explain."
"My lady?" you repeated with a scowl. "I thought you guys stopped playing Dungeons and Dragons after high school."
"That's not -" Danny shook his head with a mouthful of pizza, "this is General Acacius."
"General?" you said quizzically, raising an eyebrow first at Danny, then towards the large man in your living room. "Be serious, Danny."
"He is!"
"I promise, what he says is true," the general chimed in, taking a step closer and stretching out his hand. You sighed and dropped your things onto your table.
"I'm too tired for this, it's been a long week."
The general frowned, hand still outstretched. "Daniel, please explain to your mistress she is not to challenge men above her lover's ranking."
You balked and gagged. "Lover?!"
"Mistress?" Danny said at the same time with a similar look of disgust. "Gross, dude, she's my sister."
Something in the general's face shifted when he learned you were siblings and he looked at you with renewed interest. "Ah, so you do not belong to another?"
You rolled your eyes and grabbed a plate, tossing a piece of white pizza on it before Danny and Lizard ate it all. "I don't have a husband, no. And that's a super sexist thing to say, I don't care if you're role playing or not."
Turning around to exit the kitchen, you were surprised to find the general somehow snuck up on you. Standing just a few feet away, you nearly ran into his strong, broad chest. He lifted a hand to tilt your chin up and whatever biting remark you had locked and loaded died on your tongue. You finally allowed yourself to get a good look at him. Dark, brooding eyes. Thick, brown curls dusted in grey, the color matching his beard. Sharp, angular nose and pouty lips.
Okay, so he was good looking. That didn't negate the weird dress and obvious mental illness.
"Your name?" he murmured softly, finger still hooked under your chin.
You cleared your throat and responded with your name, to which he nodded before dropping his hand. His gaze drifted to your plate and his nose wrinkled. "What is this you are eating?"
"Pizza?" you replied, squeezing up against your counter so you could get past him and get some space. "Help yourself."
"What is pizza?" you heard him ask Danny. You collapsed onto the couch with a groan and took a bite, fully not in the mood for whatever weird shit your brother had going on.
"It's Italian, you'll like it," Danny replied.
The three men trailed in from the kitchen to join you in the living room, your moment of peace and quiet over.
"This appears to be some bastardized version of flatbread," the general said, lifting the piece of pizza and giving it a tentative sniff. "What is this red? Some kind of pepper paste?"
"It's tomato sauce."
"Alright, enough with this bullshit please," you said, but the men ignored you.
You watched as he took a bite and almost instantly spit it out. "This is vile."
"Hey, that's authentic New York City pizza. Nothing vile about it," Lizard said. You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration.
"General - I'm sorry, I'm not calling you that. What's your real name?"
"That is my real name," he answered, cocking his head at you from the other end of the couch.
"General Marcus Acacius," Danny told you, cursing under his breath when he dropped some cheese on his shirt.
"Okay, Marcus," you began, but he shook his head.
"It is quite inappropriate for you to -"
"I don't give a shit, I'm not calling you General like I'm in the fucking army!"
The room fell quiet as you glared at Marcus, daring him to say another word. When it became evident he wasn't going to, you took a deep breath and continued.
"If you don't like the sauce, there's another pizza in the kitchen without it. Go try that," you said, voice a little softer now. He nodded and rose to go find the white pizza, leaving just the three of you for the first time.
"What the fuck, Danny?!" you whispered angrily. "Why the hell is there a guy in a dress pretending he's a fucking general in my home?"
"He is a general," Danny whispered back. "From Ancient Rome. I'll explain everything later," he said, straightening up when Marcus's footsteps approached.
"This is far better. Thank you, my lady."
"Oh, look at that. You already have something in common," Lizard said with a fake, syrupy voice. "You both love gross pizza."
"Thought you just said authentic New York City pizza can't be gross?" you sneered.
"Boom! She got you, Lizard," Danny laughed. Marcus looked around the room, confused.
"You said your name was Victor, did you not?"
You burst out laughing, covering your mouth with a napkin.
"Lizard's just his nickname. His real name is Victor," Danny explained.
"Yeah. No one calls me Victor. Just like no one calls you Marcus," Lizard explained.
"Only those dearest to me are allowed to use that name," he explained. "Such as a parent or a lover." His eyes flickered up to you quickly before focusing on his pizza once again.
"Does that make you his lover now?" Lizard teased. You kicked a foot out and jabbed him in the hip.
"Shut up," you grumbled.
"Do you not follow the proper steps to obtain a lover in your land?" he asked, genuine curiosity painting his face. "It is much more than simply calling another by a name. If a man were to deem a woman acceptable, he would make an arrangement with her father to wed." He scratched his chin in thought for a moment before adding, "unless, of course, she is a whore."
Lizard and Danny doubled over, howling with laughter while you stared daggers at them both.
"Did I say something to warrant such laughter?" Marcus asked you. You rolled your eyes.
"No, you did not."
"Rule number one, General," Danny said, gasping for air and wiping the tears from his eyes. "Don't call girls whores."
Marcus looked taken aback.
"I meant no offense. A whore is a common profession where I am from. There is no shame in it."
"Alright, can we stop talking about whores?" you asked, exasperated.
"Yeah, good idea. Let's find you some clothes to wear and we'll set up the couch so you can sleep. It folds out, don't worry," Danny told Marcus.
"My tunic should suffice," Marcus said, glancing down at his clothes.
"Uh, not in New York, man. Might stick out a little," Lizard joked, then stood to take his plate back in the kitchen for seconds.
"Depends on what side of town you're on," you mumbled under your breath.
"You can borrow something of mine," Danny said, standing up to go to his room. "You're a little bigger than me but I think I have something that'll work."
You eyed Marcus up over your plate, taking in the finer details of his appearance. "Where are you from? Really?" you asked. He turned to you with a sigh.
"Rome."
"Come on. You can drop the act, they're gone," you said, narrowing your eyes at him.
"I promise, I am telling you the truth," he replied, his gaze boring into you so intensely that it left you spellbound for a moment. "Your brother and his comrade found me on the outskirts of the city with some... contraption. They said they would take me to Greece, however it is clear this is not Greece."
"A contraption?" you repeated nervously. Oh, fuck.
He nodded. "I had never seen anything like it. I do not know what happened but once I entered, there were bright lights and a loud crack and... I must have lost consciousness. I woke in your lounge, utterly confused."
"Shit," you whispered, putting your plate down so you could angrily scrub your face with your hands. Danny, although very irritating and far too dependent on you for basic survival, was incredibly gifted. His intelligence stunned his teachers since he was three years old. He was doing long division at five and became fluent in Spanish at seven. By the time he entered high school, he had grown extremely interested in science, where he met Lizard. For years you had witnessed failed experiments and fireballs in your backyard, but you saw all their successes, as well. Since they were fourteen, Danny and Lizard talked about time travel and you always brushed them off, even when they began to build different devices throughout the years that claimed they were on the verge of a breakthrough, but of course, nothing ever came of it.
Until now.
No, that was crazy. There's no way they actually travelled back in time to Ancient Rome and returned with a Roman general... right?
"Why were you going to Greece?" you asked, tiredly dropping your hands in your lap.
He paused for a moment and you could see the hesitation in his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply right when Danny emerged from his bedroom with an armful of different clothing options.
"We'll go shopping tomorrow and find something else that will fit," he said, sheepishly handing over the clothes. Marcus slowly reached out and set them down on the cushion next to him.
"Thank you."
"Hey, I'm gonna take off," Lizard said from the kitchen doorway.
"Yeah, alright. Hey!" Danny said, swiveling around before he left. "You'll be back tomorrow, right? I need your help with the... thing."
You narrowed your eyes in his direction but remained silent. Once Marcus was asleep, you planned on having a very heated conversation with your brother, so you saved that little tidbit for later.
"Yeah, sure thing, man."
You stood to clean up the leftovers while you listened to Danny explain the concept of a pull-out couch to Marcus, then after that, a bathroom. The more time that passed, the more nervous you became. What if this was real? Was it even possible?
Quietly, you stepped out from the kitchen. Marcus was sitting on the edge of the pull out mattress, hands clasped together between his knees as he stared blankly at the floor. For the first time, you felt bad for him. If everything he said was true, he had to have been so confused and scared.
"Hey," you said softly. He lifted his head with a jolt of surprise. "Here's some water," you said, offering him a plastic bottle. He took it and frowned. "You twist the top to open it," you explained, ignoring how ridiculous it felt to tell a grown man how to open a bottle of water.
"Thank you," he replied, setting it down on the floor next to his bed.
"Do you need anything else?"
He shook his head and gave you a small smile. "No, my lady. Thank you for your hospitality."
"You're welcome," you said shyly, inching towards the little hallway that led to your bedroom. "We'll get you back home, Marcus. Don't worry."
He swallowed and smiled again. "Of course."
You smiled back and awkwardly clapped your hands together. "Well, if you need anything at all, just knock on one of our doors."
He nodded and with a sigh, began to peel back the sheets.
"Good night, my lady," he said once your back was turned. You swiveled back around and gave him a little wave, his deep brown eyes looking breathtaking in the evening light.
"Good night."
Flustered, you knocked into the doorframe on your way back to your room. Cursing under your breath and rubbing your shoulder, you slipped behind your door, finally putting an end to your humiliation.
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The next morning you sipped your coffee in your kitchen as you replayed the argument you had with Danny the night before once you were sure Marcus was asleep.
"You need to get him back home. Tomorrow, Danny," you had said sternly.
"There might be a slight hiccup with that," he replied, bracing himself for your anger. "The machine needs repairs."
"What the fuck do you mean?!" you seethed as your paced around his cluttered room.
"Don't worry, sis! We can fix it! But we just need a couple days."
"How many days?" you asked with a glare.
Danny shrugged. "Two. Three."
You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.
"A week, tops."
"A week?!"
"Shh! You'll wake him up!" he scolded, pointing angrily towards the door. "Lizard's coming over tomorrow, we'll get working on it right away. Something happened on impact when we returned, I didn't factor in modern day atmospheric pressure originally, but -"
"I don't give a shit what the reason is, you just need to fix it! You have no clue what the ramifications are by keeping him here! You could alter the course of history or something!"
"You watch too many movies," Danny chuckled, but quickly stopped and cleared his throat when he saw the look on your face. "I'll fix it. Promise."
The caffeine hadn't even had a chance to enter your bloodstream before Danny woke and dropped yet another problem onto your lap.
"Do you think you can take him shopping for some clothes today while me and Lizard work on this thing?" he asked as he poured cereal into a bowl.
"So now I'm running errands for you?" you snapped.
"C'mon, don't be like that," he replied as he put the carton of milk back in the fridge. The dynamic between you and your brother was wearing thin. It was always up to you to be the levelheaded one while he just allowed the wind to take him wherever it pleased, completely carefree while you harbored all the stress of basic responsibilities.
"Try to just enjoy the adventure for once," he added before messily scooping cereal into his mouth.
"Yeah, right," you grumbled under your breath before bringing your mug to your lips and taking another sip.
"So, is that a yes?"
"Fine," you said with a roll of your eyes. "If only so I can get away from this apartment and the inevitable chaos those repairs will bring. Just don't piss off my neighbors, okay?"
"Deal."
"Good day," you heard Marcus's deep voice rumble behind you. You jumped and swiveled around, gaze flickering down briefly to take in his borrowed clothes. Danny was right, he needed something that fit.
"Morning, General," Danny said with a grin. "Sleep well?"
"Surprisingly, yes. Even with all the noise outdoors... tell me, is it ever silent here?"
"No," you both said in unison. He nodded and looked down at his tunic, which was crumpled up in his fist.
"Do you have a servant I can give this to for washing?"
"That would be me," you said, stretching out your arm. Marcus hesitated for a moment.
"The lady of the house shouldn't have to perform such arduous tasks."
"I agree, yet here we are," you said, taking the tunic and tossing it over your shoulder. "I have to put in a load, anyway."
You changed your clothes and freshened up while listening to your brother scrape together some type of meal for Marcus that he found acceptable, then pressed the button on your tiny washing machine before heading back into the kitchen.
"Ready?"
Marcus glanced between you and Danny while chewing the last piece of a baguette.
"My sister's gonna take you shopping for some clothes," Danny explained. Marcus looked down at his attire and nodded.
"To the market, then?" he asked you, trailing after you as you tossed your bag over your shoulder and walked down the hallway towards the elevators.
"Something like that."
"I have plenty of denar," he said as you jabbed the call button.
"Denar?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather satchel filled with unfamiliar coins. You grinned and shook your head.
"Don't worry, I got it."
"Please, your hospitality has already been gracious enough," he said, following you into the elevator when it opened.
"If you can find someone who will take that, then be my guest," you said, tapping the lobby button. He was about to say something else when the doors closed and the car violently jolted, startling him.
"What is this?"
"It's an elevator. It lifts us up and down so we don't have to take the stairs."
His jaw hung open in disbelief until the doors slid open to reveal the lobby, then he broke out into a huge smile.
"Incredible."
But once he followed you out onto the busy New York City street, peppered with pedestrians, bicyclists, couriers, and a sea of vehicles, then his eyes practically bugged out of his head.
"I see now where all the noise comes from," he said to you, raising his voice a bit over the commotion as you walked. It was actually endearing to see him experience the city for the first time, something you took for granted every day leaves most people in awe. It was easy to forget that.
"Stick close," you said with a small smile when you saw him tip his head back to gaze up at the towering skyscrapers.
"What is your profession, then?" he asked as he walked by your side. You noticed with envy that others on the sidewalk veered out of his way, his massive shoulders and hulking frame no doubt the reason, instead of brushing past him, like what most do to you every day.
"I write for a fashion magazine."
"Oh, so you're a poet?" he asked, intrigued. You shook your head with a small laugh.
"No. I write about romance in the lifestyle section. I have a column every month on a different topic and I also pick three reader questions to answer and publish on the website every week."
It was clear he hardly understood what you were talking about, so you stopped at the nearest newsstand and grabbed your magazine. After paying, you ushered him over to a bench and sat down while you thumbed through it.
"Ah! Here we go," you said, proudly handing over the magazine and tapping on the corner of the page.
"'Are Soulmates Real'?" he read aloud the title before frowning at you. You nodded.
"Yeah, I talk about the idea of soulmates and how it's putting too much pressure on the modern woman to find this perfect partner when in reality, they don't exist."
"And how do you know this?" he asked, clearly amused.
"I don't, but I wrote from experience," you shrugged.
"So, since you have not found a soulmate, that means they do not exist?"
"No, it's an opinion, Marcus," you explained, "the magazine pays me for my opinion and outlook on things."
He sighed and closed the magazine with a shake of his head. "I am sorry you feel that way."
"Are you saying you believe in soulmates?" you asked.
"Well, I cannot say one way or another from experience, but I like to believe they exist, yes."
"Do you have a wife or family waiting for you back home?" The thought hadn't even occurred to you before now and you felt guilty, but he shook his head.
"My wife died many years ago during childbirth," he said sadly, and your heart plummeted. "She was young and I had just made rank, so her father arranged our marriage in order to ensure a safe and comfortable life for his only daughter." He looked down at the magazine in his hands but he wasn't really reading it. He was too lost in thought.
"She was with child very quickly after we wed. I had not even known her a year by the time she passed, but the time I had with her was enjoyable. I thought very much one day we would learn to love one another," he said, giving you a sad smile. "Was not meant to be."
"I'm so sorry," you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That's horrible... I don't even know what to say."
"It was a long time ago now. I never did remarry, although I had many offers. I became entirely focused on war, fighting to keep Rome and her citizens safe. It is what I was meant to do," he said, exhaling loudly and looking around. "Is this what you feel you are meant to do?" he asked, holding up the magazine. You laughed, grateful for the change of subject.
"No, probably not."
He grinned and nodded in agreement. "Yes, I imagine you are destined for much more, my lady."
"You think so?" you asked, scrunching your nose self-consciously.
He nodded, his gaze drifting over your face solemnly.
"I do."
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If elevators impressed Marcus, then the escalators within Bloomingdale's practically floored him. He was so enraptured with them that you had to nudge his shoulder to remind him to step forward before he tripped when you got to the top.
"This is unlike anything I have ever laid my eyes on," he said to you in wonder, his head rolling around on his shoulders as he gazed around at all the lights and signage.
"Yeah, Bloomingdale's is special," you said dreamily. "Sometimes I get to tag along with girls from work to pick out fashion samples for the magazine. It's always so much fun."
You led him over to the men's section and turned to study his broad frame. "You're probably an extra large," you said as you began to sift through the racks, picking out various shirts in different styles and colors and draping them over your arm. He watched you without saying a word, just occasionally feeling the material between his fingertips whenever he saw something that caught his eye. When you got to the pants, you paused and pursed your lips. Glancing around, you spotted a measuring tape left on one of the registers. Grabbing his hand in yours, you dragged him over and shoved the shirts in his arms.
"Here. Hold these while I measure your waist and inseam."
He frowned for a moment but did as you asked, then jumped when you wrapped your arms around his middle with the tape.
"Sorry, it will only take a second," you murmured, ignoring how muscular and firm he felt under your hands. You took note of the number and flushed when it came time to measure his inseam. You chewed on your lip and glanced around, searching for a worker to maybe do it instead, but none were nearby.
"Okay, I'm going to have to measure the length of your leg," you began to explain. "I need to... put my hand close to..." you trailed off and gestured vaguely towards his lap and it finally seemed to click.
"Oh," he said in surprise, glancing down. He cleared his throat and nodded but you could see the pink creeping up his neck.
"I'll be fast," you assured him, "unless you prefer I find someone else."
"No, that is quite alright," he told you, standing tall and tucking his hands behind his back. Glancing around the store once more, you fell to your knees with the measuring tape. You tried not to think about it, tried not to look, but his clothes were too snug as it was and it was right fucking there.
Jesus Christ, you had to get it together. You were not lusting after a time traveling Roman general in the middle of Bloomingdale's. But it was impossible to ignore the impressive looking bulge right at eye level.
"Okay," you said quickly, standing up so fast your head spun. "Got it, let's go."
You hurriedly dropped the measuring tape back on the counter and swiveled around, looking for men's pants while trying to hide how flustered you were. You grabbed a few pairs of jeans and khakis before adding them to Marcus's pile, and avoiding his eye, you pointed over to the corner.
"You can try them on in there."
You waited outside patiently, listening to him struggle with a zipper. You had to draw the line: there was no way you would help him with that. But when he emerged from the dressing room for approval wearing a nice fitting pair of jeans and a white polo shirt, you kind of missed those tight clothes from before. You gave him a smile and thumbs up and he grinned before stepping back into the dressing room. When he turned around and you saw his ass in those jeans, you tilted your head to the side and raised your eyebrows.
Okay, the new clothes weren't so bad, either.
You picked him out two pairs of pants, an assortment of shirts, and paid before going to the intimates floor to grab some underwear, socks, and pajamas. On the way to the men's section, you passed by some mannequins wearing lacy lingerie and robes. Marcus frowned and tugged on your elbow.
"What is that for?"
You glanced in the direction he was pointing and inwardly groaned.
"It's undergarments women wear," you explained, hoping to leave it at that, but he still had questions.
"What is the purpose of the colors if they are under your clothes?"
You sighed and pinched your nose. "It's for sex, okay?" you whispered to him, looking around quickly to make sure nobody could overhear you.
"Sex?" he repeated at full volume. You shushed him, your cheeks flaring with heat, but he just gave you a bewildered look. "Why must I be quiet?"
"We don't talk about sex in public here," you told him, voice still lowered. "It's inappropriate."
"Why on earth not?" he asked, but he kept his voice soft for your benefit as he followed you into the men's section. "Nothing is more natural or beautiful than sex."
"Yeah, well, I don't have all the answers, Marcus."
"And why would a woman drape herself in such garb? A woman's body is a work of art. It is meant to be worshiped and admired just as it is. One would not hang ornaments off a statue of Venus, so why would a woman -"
"I don't know, Marcus!" you said, grabbing a pack of boxers and then a pack of white socks. "Men just like it, I guess."
He scoffed and shook his head but chose not to say anything further when he picked up the agitation in your voice.
You paid for the rest of the clothes and handed him the bag to carry as you led him to the exit. "Are you hungry What do you usually eat around this time of day?"
"It varies. I quite like fish with some bread and cheese."
You thought about it for a moment before your face lit up and you snapped your fingers.
"I have an idea."
Right around the corner from Bloomingdale's was one of your favorite bagel places. You found a table outside and made him sit then hurried inside to order two lox bagels. You almost grabbed Diet Coke but then thought that might kill him, so instead you got two waters and met him back outside in less than ten minutes.
"Try this," was all you said, handing him a warm bagel wrapped in paper and smelling absolutely divine.
Carefully, he peeled the paper away and sniffed the bagel before taking a hesitant bite. You waited, your own bagel untouched, for his reaction. His eyes snapped up to yours and a slow smile spread across his face.
"This is magnificent."
You giggled and tore into the paper covering your own lunch. "I had a feeling you would like it. Fish, bread and cheese."
He nodded and took a bigger bite. "Very wise. Tell me," he said, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. "How has no one asked your father for your hand in marriage? You are bright, strong and beautiful. I am shocked you are not taken."
You decided to let the taken comment go that time and swallowed your food before replying. "Our parents are dead, first of all. But secondly, even if someone was interested in marrying me, they wouldn't need to ask my father. They just ask the woman directly now."
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "My apologies. I was unaware of your parents' passing."
"That's okay," you shrugged. "It was a long time ago. Danny was a teenager and I had just graduated high school." You looked up at him, realizing he wouldn't understand what that meant. "I was nineteen. I had to grow up fast and help keep an eye on Danny," you settled on saying, figuring that would sum it up enough.
He nodded and looked down at his food, quietly thinking over what you said. "Has a man ever asked for your hand?" he asked before taking another bite of food.
You laughed. "Uh, no."
"Why is that humorous?"
You sighed and glanced around. "I haven't exactly dated many winners." He cocked an eyebrow at you and you added, "I seem to only attract assholes."
"Ah," he said in understanding. "I am attracted to you. Does this make me an... asshole?"
Your eyelids fluttered and you nearly choked on your water. "W-what?"
"I said, I am attracted -"
"No, I heard you, I just needed a second to process what you said," you told him, feeling your heart beat loudly in your chest. He tilted his head at you curiously.
"Does this surprise you?"
You laughed and fanned the back of your neck nervously. "Um, yes, a little. People don't usually go around just announcing when they're attracted to someone. They're a little more subtle than that."
"Oh. Have I made you uncomfortable? I do apologize," he said, his deep brown eyes softening as he gazed at you across the table.
"It's okay, I just didn't expect it," you chuckled, waving him off and focusing on your food with a stupid smile stretched across your face. He watched you eat for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching as he replayed what you just told him.
"You did not say if you are attracted to me," he said, drawing your attention back up to him. "Is this because you are not, or are you being... subtle?"
You grinned and shook your head. "You have a weird way of flirting."
He smiled back, the creases next to his eyes deepening. "I told you. Where I am from, sex is not something to be ashamed of. It is enjoyable and discussed often. Unless one has devoted themselves to a life of celibacy."
Definitely not, you thought. He let the subject drop as he finished the rest of his lunch and sat back in his chair, looking around at the cars inching by and beeping their horns angrily. You remained quiet for a few minutes, debating on what to say, if you should say anything at all until you finally decided fuck it.
"I'm attracted to you, too."
His head swiveled in your direction and he grinned. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
You giggled in disbelief before you said, "you're welcome."
Something had shifted between you on the walk back to your apartment. It felt so different from just a few hours ago, and it wasn't just the shocking confession over lunch. You had learned a little more about each other, let the other in and shared personal details about your lives, trusting one another with your vulnerability. And for once, you didn't feel raw and exposed. Strangely, it felt like you could trust him. Maybe it was because you knew he would be gone in a few days and it didn't feel like you had much to lose.
However, when you got off the elevator and walked toward your apartment, the sounds of power tools and shouting coming from the other side of the door, Marcus stopped you. He plucked your hand from your side and brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing over them gently while maintaining eye contact, the entire moment making your hands tremble and your heart to flutter excitedly in your chest.
"Thank you for today, my lady. I had a lovely time with you."
You smiled shyly at him and looked down at the ground.
"Me, too," you replied softly.
And it was then you realized you very much might have something to lose after all.
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rogersideup · 5 months ago
Note
I'd like to drop a prompt:
The avengers have a night off in Las Vegas after a mission. Thor makes sure Cap has his fair share of Asgardian liquor so Steve ends up drunk and wanders off alone. He meets our dear reader who just got dumped by her friend group and is equally drunk. They hit it off and decide to get married. The next morning both of them are confused but decide to make it work as memories of the night before come back to them. (Surprise surprise dear reader is from New York too)
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‧₊˚✧⚁⁠♧777♤⚄✧˚₊‧
Steve Rogers X Reader
Masterlist
Summary: Steve gets himself into some trouble while having a night off in the city of sin.
Word Count: 4,717
Warning: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.
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"Miss?"
Flashing lights separated and splayed through the drying tears in your watery eyes, music and ringing from hundreds of slot machines overstimulated your senses as you simultaneously pulled your dress up and down in different places.
"Excuse me miss? Can I get you something to drink?"
Coming back to your senses, you turned around to face the bartender. "Yeah, uh..." really, you tried your hardest to think of something, literally anything to help move along the buzz you were already riding but no proper words made it to your brain. "Sorry. I'm not sure what I want. Can you just make it strong and fruity?"
"Sure thing." The bartender agreed, already grabbing bottles off the shelf.
Watching him masterfully work helped you zone out and relieved all of your overwhelmed senses. Pouring, shaking, more pouring, a garnish, then a fruity elixir of a bunch of liquids you most definitely could not pronounce was placed right in front of you atop a cocktail napkin. Not a single drop was spilled, even the ice was perfect.
Reaching into your purse, you handed the bartender your card and shouted to try and compete with the volume of drunken gamblers and rolling dice. "You can close the tab."
"Don't worry about it. This one's on the house, you look like you need it." He kindly denied your form of payment.
You chuckled to yourself. "That bad, huh?"
"No, but I know a sad chick when I see one." He noted. "Happens pretty often in Vegas."
"Well, thank you, I appreciate it." You raised the glass. "Cheers to you and all the bartenders making the world go round."
"Amen to that" He smiled before walking off to serve yet another drunken customer.
You sat at the bar on a little leather stool fully contemplating how you ended up in this situation as you looked out into the hotel casino and nursed your drink. It didn't take long for you to realize that the Vegas bartenders didn't take the word strong as a joke. Because every sip stung your throat and swirled your thoughts around in slow motion.
The speed at which your thoughts came at you didn't help the fact that every single one of them revolved around nothing but yourself.
What were you going to do now? Where should you go from here?
Drinking wasn't the answer, but not drinking wasn't the solution. Finding shelter in the Caesars Palace hotel was a good enough temporary fix to your problems, so you ignored that you were on the complete opposite side of the Las Vegas strip that you actually needed to be on.
However, getting to your hotel on the complete opposite side was the problem. Your shitty friends completely ditched you, or maybe you ditched them. The details were all so unclear, but the fact was they were all making stupid choices and you couldn't stand to stick around long enough to see the end results of them.
But now you were all done up in high heels and a small little dress in a city you had never been in before, notorious for sex, drugs and alcohol. Luckily, pepper spray in your purse and a back pocket full of self defense techniques that have been drilled into your head ever since you were a little girl were amongst some of the better choices you made tonight.
Then came along all of the dumber choices you would make tonight in the form of yet another fruity drink, and a tall, blonde man looking painfully confused at the roulette table right in front of you.
He was tall and broad, even more handsome than the massive statues of Roman men all around the hotel. But much like the statues around you, he looked like he was carved from marble. The muscles you could see sculpted through his suit jacket could've only been a result of a piece of fine art.
It was easy to pick up his wholesome sweetness behind his big blue eyes, that also did a lot to tell you how drunk the man was. He towered over the table and watched a few rounds, trying his hardest to understand what was happening. Much like him, you watched the ball spin round and round before landing in a slot.
Some of the players would moan and groan at their fate, while others would cheer happily and exchange loud laughter and high-fives.
Mesmerized by the game, you missed the glances the blonde man snuck of you. He really couldn't help it though. His friends had left him all alone while his capacity to make good decisions was at an all time low, and you were just so pretty and maybe a bit sad.
Another round was about to start, so the dealer started taking bets. Everyone around the table started placing their chips on a color and number, and the blonde was still confused.
He looked around again before his eyes met yours, and a stupid invasive smile smeared across your lips. When he noticed your friendly demeanor, he took a few stumbles over to you.
"Do you have any idea how to play this?" The man asked you.
Now you could smell the expensive yet deliciously pleasant cologne he was wearing, and you could take in all the details of his black suit.
Giggling at his cluelessness, you swallowed down the sip of cocktail in your mouth. "I do. Would you like some help?"
"I'm assuming you have to guess if the ball lands on red or black?" He asked as his lopsided smile and squinted eyes told you everything you needed to know about his sobriety... or lack there of.
"That's exactly it, good job." You nodded. "But you can also guess the number, or a group of numbers it'll land on. The payout at the end is based on how accurate your bet is."
"So what should I bet?" He asked you, having already built a strong sense of trust for you in the few minutes he had been observing.
"Oh no, that's not up to me." You shook your head before taking another sip of your drink. "You gotta trust your own gut."
The man's eyes darted around the table once more before his arms motioned to it. "But look around! All of these men have pretty girls telling them what to do, and that's why they're all winning money. You guys are so much smarter than us, and I'm alone so I need you to tell me. Red or black."
Usually, a statement like that from a man like him would have you rolling your eyes and cutting the conversation short. However, either your gut or the alcohol was telling you that he wasn't an asshole.
For some reason, you felt calm and comfortable in his presence all while being unable to wipe the dumb smile off your face. Something about his hair that was once perfectly styled now being a little jostled, and the twinge of pink in his cheeks made him seem so distantly familiar.
"Well thank you for that backhanded compliment." You laughed. "I think you should bet red."
He nodded, trusting your opinion far more than he trusted himself. "Should I place a more specific bet too?"
You thought for a moment, but you were in Vegas so... fuck it. "Yeah. Give me your chip"
The man happily placed the roulette chip into your hand, you stood up in one big sweep and started walking away from the bar. "Woah, don't leave your drink!"
Pleasantly surprised that he had your best interest in mind, you mumbled out a statement of gratitude as he handed the glass to you too. Approaching the table, looked at it for a few moments and tried your hardest to contemplate the best number to place a bet on, but once again no rational thoughts occupied the empty spaces of your brain.
So, you threw the chip on your favorite number, lucky 25.
"There ya go!" You used your free hand to pat the man's shoulder. "Good luck, Blondie."
"What happens if I win?" He asked you, smiling as you let your hand linger. Even with your highest heels on, you were nowhere near as tall as him.
"Then it's your lucky day, and you'll get a shit ton of money." You giggled at his question.
"And if I lose?"
"Then you're unlucky and you're about to lose some money." You snorted.
"That's not going to happen, you're my good luck charm." He declared.
"I don't think anything about my night tonight is radiating lucky energy, so I doubt that."
"What? No way! I feel like I've been the luckiest guy in the whole world today, so maybe I'm your good luck charm."
"I guess we will let the roulette wheel speak the truth of the universe tonight." You shrugged.
"Should we place our own bets on the bet?" The man asked.
"Like what?" You questioned, hoping this wasn't the moment the sweet stranger turned weird and pervy.
"I think if I lose I should probably call it a night and go back to my room because this is the drunkest I've been in probably 80 years." He stated. However, his words flew over your head figuring his drunken words were exaggerated, and you found yourself to be a little sad that your time with the stranger would be cut short so soon.
"I think if you win, you should stay out for a little while and have another drink with me." You smiled, going way out of your own comfort zone.
If you were sober, or maybe even drunk in a bar anywhere other than Las Vegas, you would've been caught dead before being caught to be so bold. But he was pulling you in faster than you've ever felt, and something about him felt so natural and warm.
"Deal." He agreed.
"Look, they're about to spin the wheel." You pointed at the table.
The dealer spun the wheel, and the ball was moving so fast that you could barely even follow it. Even as it slowed down and started to tease each individual slot, the motion of following the sphere going round and round was quite honestly making you a bit dizzy, so you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation.
"No way." The blonde stated. "No fucking way!"
His arm wrapped around you from behind and his big warm hands very gently shook the tops of your arms. "Look! It's on red! I can't see the number, but it's on red!"
You giggled and tried your best to keep your balance as he shook you around. When you opened your eyes you could see that the drink in your hand was sloshing around and spilling over onto the impeccably maintained carpet beneath your feet. But the loss of some of your drink was a small price to pay when the dealer picked the ball up out of the wheel and announced "25 Red!"
Simultaneously, you and Blondie let out little screeches in surprise and joy when you realized you had actually placed a winning bet. In all your years on this planet, nothing like this had ever happened to you. You never even won $5 on a penny slot, let alone a fat wad of cash that was being placed into the man's hands.
After the cheering celebration and laughter died down, he turned to you. "See! I knew you were lucky!"
"You trusted your intuition, and you won!" You noted with a smile so big and long lasting it was starting to make your cheeks sore. "Good job."
"Here! This is yours." He placed the wad of cash in your hands.
"What? No. You bet your own money, it's yours." Not being able to accept it, especially when you saw it was all $100 bills.
"No it's yours! You placed the winning bet, you knew the magic number so I want you to have it." He explained kindly. "You said nothing about your night was lucky, so consider this your sign from the universe."
"I can't just accept all of this money from a complete stranger." You denied once more. "You're very sweet, I would feel so guilty taking this from you."
"Fine, if you can't accept the money for yourself, how about we go spend it together?" He offered. "I owe you another drink anyways, then after that the Las Vegas strip is our oyster!"
"That's a little better" You agreed with a smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't even get your name."
"O-oh!" The man seemed to be taken back by that statement for a second. A look of momentary confusion furrowed his eyebrows before a happy smile returned to his kind face. "Sorry, I'm Steve!"
You made a small mental note of his initial shock that you asked for his name, but your drunken brain didn't hold onto that for very long.
"Alright Steve, here's the plan." You rocked up on your tippy toes and kept yourself braced with a steady hand on his solid shoulder so he could hear you better in the loud and chaotic environment. "Half my drink just ended up on the floor when you won, so I'm going to order another one. Then after that, I somehow need to end the night at my hotel on the complete opposite end of the strip without getting taken or murdered. So if we can somehow make it from here to there while blowing through that money you just won, then I'd be more than happy to help you spend it."
Steve's eyes went wide in concern at your statement. "Where are you staying?"
You narrowed your eyes at him. "My gut is telling me not to tell a strange man where I'm staying."
"Smart girl, but I'm not letting you walk down the strip alone at night. The people here are crazy." He challenged. "No funny business. Pinky promise."
Steve raised his pinky for you with a genuine look of promise and concern on his face. "Do people often trust you to get them to safety?"
His cheeks turned pinker, and he let out an adorable giggle. "Yeah, I think most people find me to be very trustworthy."
"No funny business." You lifted your hand and wrapped your pinky around his with a quick handshake. "I'm staying at New York, New York."
"Oh wow, we have a long way to go with lots of chances to blow through that stack." He smiled. "What are you drinking? I'll order you another one."
"Honestly, I have no idea." You admitted, smile coming back to your face.
"Okay great! That helps me a lot" The blonde laughed.
"Excuse me" You politely flagged down the bartender. The same one from earlier coming back, you showed him your glass. "Can I get another one of these please? And whatever he wants?"
You looked to Steve who looked between you and the bartender. "Just two waters please."
"Sure thing." The bartender agreed.
"What? You're not going to have a drink?" You questioned.
He pulled a copper flask out of the pocket on the inside of his suit jacket. "I'll drink more, but this is stronger."
"Oh, nothing here is strong enough for you?" You raised a brow, your smile growing just as lopsided as his.
"Nope. This stuff is special, it comes straight from another realm."
Laughing at his joke, as you handed the bartender cash straight from the wad Steve gave you. "That's funny, because I hope this is strong enough to make me feel like I'm no longer in this realm, so cheers to that!"
You and Steve sat at that bar for a solid two hours as conversation topics flew at the two of you unexpectedly fast. Each one new topic was short lived as an enthusiastic response would happily slip off one of your tongues, so excited that the two of you had so much in common.
Then, Steve decided to start the shopping spree. He offered you a hand to help you off the stool, which quickly turned into a protective arm around you, or ushering you the entirety of your time together. He knew that the men on the Vegas strip were pigs, but he underestimated how bad it really was.
But the cat calls, whistles, and lingering eyes were drowned out by the city sounds and the big flashing marquee lights that littered the sides of every building you passed. It was just as mesmerizing as the night before, skipping down the streets in a drunken haze with your best friends.
Now you were mesmerized by not only sin city, but the mysterious man you were following around as if you'd known him your whole life.
With a sense of childlike wonder the two of you ended up in silly places like the M&M's store, and the Coca-Cola store, but you also ventured into more classy designer establishments where you convinced him to buy a lovely new belt at Louis Vuitton.
It looked good, he looked good. You had to work really hard to contain the drool in your mouth as you watched him take off his old belt to replace it with the new one.
He tried to buy you a new bag, but once again you were being stubborn and were having a hard time accepting such a generous offer.
So, you suggested another drink. Just one more.
More sitting and chatting with Steve, you swallowed down the liquid in your cup while he shot the rest of the liquid in his flask.
That last drink was the worst of your poor decision making that night, or so you thought.
Because the last memory you had was sitting at that bar and really admiring him.
The alcohol had turned his cheeks and the tip of his nose a rosy pink color that somehow made his blue eyes shine even brighter, and add to the wholesome energy you felt radiating from him.
Sweet, silly, carefree, handsome, safe.
Then, you woke up.
Slowly at first. Your eyes opened and the dull pounding at the back of your skull wasn't nearly at bad as you deserved. The air conditioning did wonders keeping you comfortable, the light peaked through the black out curtains, and your belongings scattered across the room confirmed that you were definitely in the right place.
You looked around more. M&m's bag, Louis Vuitton bag... Converse bag? You didn't remember buying shoes. Wait... how did you get here?
Only then did you wake up FAST. You sat up, and your heart pounded as you realized that Blondie was in your bed. The sudden movement made your head pound even harder, but the good news was that he was fully clothed and was sleeping above the covers.
You were also asleep and fully clothed, but both of you were in different clothes than you had on last night. That's probably what those shopping bags in the corner were...
Carefully rolling out of bed to try and make yourself somewhat presentable and aid along trying to process what happened last night, you walked into the bathroom.
Wash your face, brush your teeth, fix your hair.
By the time you came out, Blondie was sitting up in bed with his legs on the floor, shooting you an apologetic look. He was apprehensive, scared to gauge how sick and unenthusiastic you would be by his presence this morning.
"Good morning." He said quietly, voice deep and raspy from inhaling the dry air and residual cigarette smoke.
"Morning." You tried to be polite, clutching the side of your head. "What happened? How did we- how did any of this-"
"Nothing happened." Steve reassured you. "I would never take advantage-"
"Okay, okay." You nodded slowly, feeling slightly relieved. "Advil. I have Advil."
Waking over to the table in the hotel room, you grabbed the bottle of painkillers and a water. You opened both and popped two little pills in your mouth, washing them down with water.
"I'm sorry, I don't remember much either. It's been a really long time since I've gotten drunk. This is really out of the ordinary for me." He explained.
"I guess we're on the same boat then." You agreed with him before a couple pieces of paper catch your eye.
"I guess I should probably go?" Steve stated, but it was more of a question. This was the first time he ever found himself waking up next to a stranger.
"No, you stay right there." You insisted frantically, picking up the piece of paper.
Certificate of marriage.
Your name signed at the bottom next to another signature that read Steven G Rogers.
Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.
You studied the signature, looked at his face, looked at the signature, then his face again.
In the table, there was a picture of the two of you kissing. Him in his suit, you in the dress you wore last night but also a veil.
"Oh my god" You exclaimed, so much information to process.
"What?" Steve questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Oh my god!" You pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath.
"What happened?"
"You didn't tell me..." You puffed out a breath, then an unexpected giggle left your throat. Of course, this would happen to you the one time in your life you didn't behave like a perfect angel. "Captain America?"
"Oh... Guilty?" Steve's shoulders sunk. "I introduced myself, no?"
"As Steve." You exaggerated.
"Yeah, I'm Steve." He agreed.
"Well, at least I was safe." Finding the benefit of the doubt. "Do you remember getting married last night, Steve?"
You passed the paper and the picture to him, and his face contorted into an expression you couldn't quite read. "...wow."
"Wow?" You questioned. "I unknowingly married Captain America last night and all you have for me is wow?"
"Holy shit." Steve looked up at you.
"That's better." You nodded.
"You don't look panicked" Steve noted.
"I'm not panicked because at least you're a superhero." You explained. "That counts for something right? Like people won't think I'm totally inane for marrying a stranger when they find out it's Captain America? And like... a superhero means you have people who come and clean up after you right? Someone can fix this right?"
You watched the gears turn in his head. "... I have to call Tony."
Tony. Who's Tony? Think. Superhero, avengers, Steve, Captain America. Tony... IRON MAN.
"Stark?" Your eyebrows raised. Steve nodded, pulling out his phone. "Now I'm freaking out. I'm really freaking out."
"It's okay, give me a second." Steve said calmly.
You nodded, the remembered you should check your phone too. As he spoke quietly to Tony, you looked around for your phone before finding it on the night stand, flooded with dozens of missed calls and texts from friends wondering where you were. You quickly sent off a text in a group chat saying you'd explain later, and that you were okay.
Eventually Steve ended the call. "He said he'll be here in a minute or two."
"Oh, okay great." You said exaggerating your nonchalance. "No biggie. Iron man coming over to read my marriage certificate to Captain America."
Steve giggled at the ridiculousness of the situation. "My mother would be over the moon to find out I'm married."
"My mom might have me 6 feet in a grave if she ever finds out about this." You sat back down on the bed next to him.
"When do you leave Vegas?" Steve questioned.
"My flight is at nine tonight. What about you?"
"Flying home at six thirty." He informed you. "Where do you live?"
"New York" You said simply. "Queens."
"We both live in New York and we’re staying in a New York themed hotel? What a small world." Steve noted. "Maybe we don't have to fit in a divorce before this evening."
"I mean... you are very handsome so I definitely wouldn't mind staying married to you for a few days until we get this figured out." You grinned.
A small blush stippled his cheeks at your compliment. “You’re so pretty I would’ve never had the courage to talk to you if I wasn’t drunk.”
Just like him, you blushed at his admission, and giggled at his words. “This doesn’t feel like real life.”
“Maybe I should’ve gotten you a ring instead of whatever the hell we bought last night.” Steve thought.
You looked down at your left hand, and sure enough, there was a pretty ring on your finger. You lifted it up to show him. “Looks like you were two steps ahead of yourself”
“Oh, good.” He chuckled. “At least there’s that.”
Then, there was a knock at the door.
You looked at Steve with wide eyes and nervousness building up in your tummy at the thought of being in the same room with one third of the Avengers.
“I’ll get it” He reassured you, standing up to answer the door.
Before you knew it, Tony Stark confidently barreled into the room. Firing some teasing words at Steve, you knew the poor guy would never hear the end of it.
“Oh look, here she is!” Tony announced.
“Nice to meet you Mr. Stark.” You shook his hand.
“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine Mrs. Rogers.” He smiled.
“Tony” Steve warned with a glare.
“Where’s the paper work?” Tony asked.
You quickly handed him the picture and the signed document that was on the table. Steve stood right next to you as you both watched him read over it, and evaluate the legitimacy.
Tony took out his phone snapped a few pictures, and made a weird face. Nervously, you his your face in Steve’s arm and he instinctively rubbed your back to comfort you.
Then, Tony started laughing. “Rogers you’re an idiot.”
“I’m aware, but what’s so funny?” Steve complained.
“It’s fake.” Tony said.
“What?” Your head popped up.
“Little white chapel, married by Elvis just for the gag type of thing. There’s no marriage license, it’s not a legal marriage.” He explained, handing you the papers back.
Both you and Steve let out a huge sigh of relief. “Maybe I’m not that much of an idiot after all.”
“No, you’re still stupid.” Tony denied. “Out of all the people in the world I would’ve never expected this from you, Cap.”
“This is Thor’s fault.” Steve pointed his finger.
You didn’t understand how the god of thunder had anything to do with this, but you had no mental capacity left to even ask.
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. Just be on time for the flight home and stay out of trouble.” Tony told him. “Hope to see you around again soon, Mrs. Rogers.”
And just like that, he was out faster than he came in.
“I know Tony made it seem like everything is okay, but it’s not and I have a giant mess to clean up with the team.” Steve explained to you.
“Yeah, I’d assume so.” You smiled.
“Which means I really should go.” He let you down. “But regardless of this fiasco, and from what I do remember, I had a lot of fun with you last night. Would you want to exchange phone numbers and maybe hang out again when we get home?”
“I would love that, Steve.” You agreed.
He handed you his phone and you handed him yours. Both putting in your phone numbers and names before swapping them back.
At the same time, you both burst out laughing at the contact names.
Unplanned, he put his name as Husband, and you put yours as Wife.
“Ridiculous!” You laughed, walking him to the door.
“Maybe we really were meant to be.” Steve pondered.
“Maybe.” You agreed. “But in all seriousness, thank you for getting me home safe last night. I was really lucky to run into the right person at the right time.”
“Of course.” Steve grinned. “Travel safe, and let me know when you get home so we can set something up.”
“You got it.” Rocking up on your tippy toes, you kissed his cheek. “Have fun cleaning up that mess, Husband.”
“Don’t tell your Mom about this, Wife.”
You locked your lips and threw away the key. “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”
‎‧₊˚✧⚀♡⚁⁠♧⚂♤⚄♢⚅✧˚₊‧‎‧₊˚✧⚀♡⚁⁠♧⚂♤⚄♢⚅✧˚₊‧
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ed-wwarren · 11 months ago
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Being the new guy in a new town was the worst. Even with all the experience Ed had with it, nothing ever got any easier. It didn’t help that he was dirt poor and could hardly afford shoes that didn’t have at least one hole in them.
His dad was an expert at gambling what little money they had away, pissing people off he owed money to, and then picking up and moving. Running away. It had been like this for as long as Ed could remember, this small town of Bridgeport, Connecticut the longest they had stayed in one place. A whole year now. What a record.
He always wondered if the past seventeen years of his life would have been different…better…if his mother hadn’t died giving birth to him.
Would he have been happy? Would his father?
Everything was his fault. Ed had felt for the longest time, and it didn’t help that his father said this to him daily, that he was responsible for killing his mom. He was a murderer at the tender age of one second old. He ruined his family before he could even walk and that thought kept him up at night.
That thought crossed his mind a lot, especially in times like these when he was alone and walking to school in the mornings. He felt alone and scared a lot of the time. Scared about what the future would hold. He had no one except his best friend Johnny but what was he supposed to do? Johnny was in the same boat as Ed as far as finances went and neither one of them had any plans for the future other than to somehow graduate high school.
The one thing Ed knew for sure as he walked up the stairs to the school doors, past the rich asshole kids who didn’t have a problem in life, he did not want to end up like his father. A broke, miserable drunk. He needed to start seriously thinking about what he was going to do with his life. Graduation was right around the corner, he already had a bag packed and hidden under his bed. When he graduated and turned eighteen, he was gone. Him and Johnny would move to New York maybe. Try to find a place there.
For now, he had first period English to look forward to.
@giftedclairvoyance
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lupinsversion · 20 days ago
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FIC RECOMMENDATIONS
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(disclaimer: none of these works are mine, but i find each and every
one beautiful and decided to share the talents of these amazing
writers!)
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Aleksander Morozova:
Secret Affairs “rumors and whispers are circulating in the little palace that general kirigan has found himself a mysterious woman whom he spends his nights with” by @kasagia
Marking by @simp2537 (18+)
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Billy Russo:
The Manhattan Murders Series “three years ago, you left your hometown of woodsboro for new york to start over, but when people around you start dying, you realize a ghost from your past has returned” by @chvoswxtch
Rescue Mission “during a disastrous blind date you reach out to your best friend billy, and he offers to come to your rescue” by @marvelmusing
Crosshairs “after a few months of stalking billy, you make a decision to curb your obsession, believing that he deserves better than you. billy doesn’t agree.” by @marvelmusing
Hunted “as part of a training exercise with anvil, you’re tasked with remaining hidden in the city for an entire week. when billy tracks you down on the last night, he decides to teach you a leason.” by @marvelmusing (18+)
Barber Shop “you give billy’s beard a trim, giving him the opportunity to think over how lucky he is to have you.” by @marvelmusing
Waiting “you’ll always wait for billy, and he’ll always come home to you.” by @marvelmusing
Sweetness “billy russo loves all things sweet, and you take up a particular spot in his heart” by @marvelmusing
Window by @thyme-in-a-bubble (18+)
Misbehavior “billy takes you to one of his favorite restaurants, but you can’t seem to behave how he wants you to” by @marvelmusing (18+)
Just Wanted To Hear Your Voice “billy hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you all morning, and he just wants to hear your voice.” by @chvoswxtch
Sneaking Around “you’ve been sneaking around with billy, and your brother finds out.” by @that-sarcastic-writer (18+)
Penny For Your Thoughts by @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend (18+)
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Remus Lupin:
His First Time by @ellecdc (18+)
A Couple Months Later by @rainydayathogwarts
Soft Dom by @inkdrinkerworld (18+)
Setting Up “james trying to get remus and reader together and setting them up. potter!reader x remus secret relationship au” by @rainydayathogwarts
No Boundries “bestfriend remus with no boundries” by @mallowsweetmiri
Chocolate Trope by @theemporium (18+)
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Sirius Black:
The Cutest Thing “when you visit the marauder’s dorm to ask remus for help with your charm’s homework, you’re surprised to find a large black dog in the room.” by @latenightreadingpdf
Fancy Ride “sirius gets jealous when you’re sharing stories from your date with evan, so you put him in his place” by @rainydayathogwarts
Always There “sirius black x girlfriend!reader who doesn’t give up on him even when he gives up on himself” by @iamgonnagetyouback
You Are Gonna Sit There And Watch by @thyme-in-a-bubble (18+)
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James Potter:
Trouble In Hollywood “after spending years as an aspiring actress, everything seems to be finally falling into place. for one thing, you landed your first lead role staring in a new tv series filming in la. the only problem: you can’t stand your co-star” by @everythingisromant1c
Kiss And Makeup “james ruins reader’s date and attempts to make it better’ by @amiableness
Lip Combo “james watching you apply your lip combo tries to distract you from your lip gloss” by @rainydayathogwarts
A Dare Too Far “james was dared to make you fall in love with him. unknown to him, he was falling for you too. but soon the truth comes out and you are left heartbroken” by @srslyblvck
Eating Out “james eating you out under your skirt in the corner of a corridor” by @theemporium (18+)
Bloody Hell “enemies to lovers, period sex” by @lizard-on-a-window-pane (18+)
Morning Sex “you need james as soon as you wake up, and he needs you” by @pretty-little-mind33
A Date? by @iamgonnagetyouback
Dad!James by @amiableness
I Think He Knows “your boyfriend promises to watch over you when you want to get drunk” by @pretty-little-mind33 (18+)
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Wolfstar x Reader:
A Baby? “your worst fears come true when you realize that sirius and remus didn’t want kids” by @iamgonnagetyouback
Fit In “wolfstar x reader who feels like she doesn’t fit in” by @iamgonnagetyouback
Drunk Reader “reader gets tipsy and starts being verbally affectionate when she normally isn’t” by @moonstruckme
Caught In The Middle “sirius’ worst nightmare comes true when both you and remus get your time of the months together” by @iamgonnagetyouback
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Poly Marauders:
Seer Reader by @ellecdc
Pregnancy “poly!marauders x pregnant!reader who padfoot is obsessed with” by @ellecdc
Praise Kink by @moonstruckme (18+)
Costume Shopping “you go costume shopping with your boys” by @mischievousmoony
Forgotten Series “after being the forgotten one your whole life, you thought that they wouldn’t forget you” by @iamgonnagetyouback
Guess “reader is blindfolded and has to guess which one of her bfs is fucking her” by @brokenmenswhore (18+)
Say My Name by @myfictionaldreams (18+)
Taste “reader has a very strong gag reflex, so the boys never ask her to blow them, and you love them for it. but today, you want to taste them” by @thebestofoneshots
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if you are a writer and you see your fic on this post and wish for it to
be removed, please let me know and i will remove it immediately!
268 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 1 year ago
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Kinktober Day 31- Ghost face!Miguel x Shy!Reader
*Requested by the many fans of tumblr. Happy Halloween!*
        Everyone had warned you about moving to Nueva York. The amount of dangerous people in that city were overwhelming. You were going to be eaten alive as your friends and family warned. You thought of yourself better and wanted to prove to them that you could survive. The shy and quiet you, who barely had to courage to say no. It was something you always struggled with, but you hoped that this new job would help you with it.
        You were hired at Alchemax as a lab assistant. You tried to fit in, but everyone was so self centered that you ended up being a loner. Everyone except one person. Miguel O'Hara. He had extended the hand of friendship to you, wanting to make you feel more comfortable around the place. You instantly fell for him. He was so kind to you and understanding. You had just wished that everyone was like him. You had wished you had the courage to ask him out.
"(Y/N), are you okay?" Miguel asked as he tried to grab your attention. You flinched out of your daydream,
"Y-Yeah, sorry. I've been...tired lately."
"I've noticed that you've been taking on other people's work. You need to learn to say no," Miguel told you before typing away on his computer. You could only nod,
"I...know...I've also had trouble sleeping...N-News of that...Ghostface going around killing people has me spooked." Miguel glanced you way, handing you a bottle of water, "T-Thanks."
"You'll be okay, tomorrow's Halloween, that's the last day he goes out. Just stay home, okay?" You let out a small whimper, hesitating. "You are staying home, right?" Miguel asked, stopping his work. Tears almost fell from your eyes,
"I-I got...I was told to join some of the others...a-at a small...work...party," Miguel saw you shaking, "I-I...I couldn't say no..."
"Sí, ¿qué voy a hacer contigo? Mi pobre muñeca inocente. (Aye, what am I to do with you? My poor innocent doll.)" Miguel whispered, knowing that you knew nothing of Spanish. He took you hand, calming you down, "Don't worry, you'll be okay."
        You looked into Miguel's eyes, smiling softly as you calmed down. After wiping your tears away, you thanked him quietly before hurrying off to go back to work. Miguel watched you scurry off. He growled lowly as he walked to his trash. That invitation was in there somewhere. Your coworkers didn't care about you to invite you to some Halloween party. They had other plans, and now Miguel did too. Finding the paper, Miguel's eyes shined brighter than normal.
"Tendré que matar a todos y hacerme el héroe, sólo para ti, mi preciosa querida. (I'll just have to kill everyone and play the hero, just for you my precious darling)"
-------------
        You stood in the corner of the small party, watching all of your coworkers enjoying themselves. You glanced down at your costume, wondering if it was too weird. Everyone else was dressed up in slutty and revealing outfits and here you were, with the costume you thought looked the cutest. You sighed sadly, wondering why you were even here. No one was talking to you. You were just there. Another sigh escaped your lips as you made your way to the upstairs bathroom.
        As you washed up, you heard faint screaming. You gasped and shut the light off, your heart beating faster. Loud thumps echoed from the staircase, causing you to whimper. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the loud thumping stopped right in front of the bathroom door. You hurried into the tub, holding yourself as you shook. This was not how you wanted to die. You cried as the door slammed open,
"BOO!"
"KYAAA!" You screamed, covering your ears. You heard loud laughter and raised your head to your coworkers,
"Ah man! Did you get that on video!?" One of them yelled.
        You stormed out of the bathroom, sobbing past everyone as they laughed at you. You made your way to the backyard since the front entrance was blocked off. You sat on the steps, crying your eyes out. They only invited you to make fun of you since you were so scared of Ghostface. You were just a quiet coworker, what did you do to deserve this? Upon hearing another scream, you whimpered in response. Were they trying to scare you again?
"I'll just stay here for a bit. They have to unblock the door soon," You whispered.
----------
        Miguel had watched the whole thing. His anger had reached a new boiling point. Fixing his mask, Miguel's grip on his knife tighten as he made his way inside. He was the one who blocked the door. Standing in the corner, Miguel watched you ran outside crying. Perfect. He was going to start with the stragglers downstairs. It was a big house and not too many people. The job needed to get new employees anyway. These guys were just dead weight.
        Miguel approached each person a little louder than he wanted. He was so fueled with anger that he couldn't focus. He just wanted everyone to pay for what they did. After his first kill, Miguel inhaled deeply. The smell of metallic blood filling his nostrils. He was not going to get now. He had taken out his anger during this month. It was the only time he could. Slowly making his way over to his next victim, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he thought of you.
        You were going to be his perfect little wife. Miguel was going to make sure you stay in the dark about his secret. He just wanted to keep you safe. He wanted to keep you protected and loved. When you first arrived at Alchemax, Miguel thought he saw an angel. A shy little angel who entered his life just for him. Miguel had hunted every single asshole who dared tried to flirt with you, or even scared you. Miguel was going to be your dark protector.
"AHHHHHH!" 
        There it was. The first scream of the night and not from a scare, but because of the dead bodies that laid under Miguel. Smiling through the mask, Miguel watched the girl run to warn the others. Ah yes, that was the start. Miguel inhaled deeply, getting enjoyment from true horror. He was going to enjoy his last few kills of the night. It was going to be another year until Miguel could kill again.
----------
        After calming down, you decided to leave. You rubbed your eyes once more before entering the house. It was quiet aside from the sound of thumping from upstairs. They were probably enjoying themselves. Honestly, you were mad at your cruel coworkers. You stopped at the front door, seeing that it was still blocked. Why were they doing this to you? The couch was far too heavy for you to move on your own. Looking for another way out, you gasped as you stepped in something.
"My shoe," You whimpered, looking at the red puddle.
        Following the puddle, you gasped sharply as you saw one of you coworkers dead. Your heart started to race again as screams came from upstairs. You hurried to the kitchen, wondering if there was a door there and froze as another dead body laid before you. This was bad. Ghostface was here and he was killing everyone. Tears began to roll down your cheeks again as you hurried to find somewhere to escape. Maybe there was a gate in the backyard?
"Please! Don't kill me!" One of your coworkers screamed as another ran down the stairs,
"(Y/N)?! You're still here?!" He yelled and gasped as Ghostface started to walk down the stairs, "Fuck it, I ain't dying here!"
        You yelped as your coworker grabbed you harshly and threw you in front of the staircase. You eyes widen as you nearly froze in fear as Ghostface stood directly before you. You couldn't move. His knife was stained with blood. You shook and closed your eyes, crying as you waited for the worst.
"No! Stay back!"
        You shuddered a gasp as you heard Ghostface leave to your coworker first. Quickly, you found a closet and hid in there until it was safe. You were frighten and scared. Covering your ears, you tried to stay quiet as you waited. Waited for Ghostface to leave.
"(Y/N)? Are you here?" That voice. You knew it all too well.
"M-Miguel! R-Run!" You cried out.
----------
        Miguel whispered some cusses towards your coworkers as he stabbed him. Now that everyone was dead, it was time for you. He knew that you ran to the living room, but where were you hiding? He stopped to clean his knife in the kitchen sink, washing all the blood off. Once that was done, he attached the knife to his thigh strap under his pants. He then took his mask off, putting it inside one of his cloak pockets that was big enough.
"(Y/N)? Are you here?" He called out, wanting to bring you out of hiding.
"M-Miguel! R-Run!" Those cries weren't meant for you.
"It's okay, I'm here now. I saw Ghostface head upstairs, quickly close your eyes and come out. I'll get you out of here."
        You were such a good girl for him. You crawled out of the closet with your eyes closed, your breathing still heavy. Miguel just smiled towards your shaken form, knowing that you were going to be in his arms in a second. With ease, he picked you up, holding you close. He could feel your heart beat. You were sobbing and holding onto him for dear life. You had no reason to cry now. Miguel was going to take care of you.
"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," Miguel whispered as he stroked your head. You just cried into his shoulder,
"M-Miguel, I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
"You have nothing to apologize for. I'll take good care of you,"
"T-They're all dead. I-I thought...I was next...Miguel...I love you. I love you. I'm sorry, I'm a scaredy cat and shy and nervous...I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner," You kept babbling, crying your heart out since you thought you were going to die.
"Dios mío, no me esperaba esto. Voy a follarte bien esta noche para que te olvides de todo esto. (My god, I wasn't expecting this. I'm going to fuck you go good tonight that you're going to forget all about this.)" He groaned lowly.
"M-Miguel?"
"It's okay, (Y/n), I love you too. I'll take good care of you."
-----------
        You sniffled as you stepped out of Miguel's shower, rubbing your arms as you wore some of his spare clothes. Miguel was kind enough to take you to his home, wanting to comfort you for the night. You were nervous as you stepped into his living room. It was quiet. Miguel was taking a shower in his other bathroom. Who would have thought that Miguel was rich? You explored his place, still surprised by the turn of events.
        You ended up in the kitchen, noticing a knife in the sink. It looked so much like the knife Ghostface had. Shaking the thought out of your head, you made your way back to the living room. You wanted to forget about what happened tonight. You tried to at least. You knew you were going to have trouble sleeping again. Tomorrow was going to be harsher because everyone was going to be asking about the others. Asking why you were the only one left alive.
"W-What if they think I killed them?" You stuttered at the thought. Miguel approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist,
"Then they would be fools," He kissed the back of your neck.
        You shuddered at the affection Miguel gave you. Turning around, you pulled him into a tight hug. Miguel chuckled as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom. Your cheeks burned up as he placed you on his bed. Miguel stroked your cheek, calming you down again. His smile instantly making you fold for him.
"Do you trust me?" Miguel asked you as he slowly climbed over you. You just nodded, "Good, there's something you need to know,"
        You whimpered as Miguel kissed your neck. His hands stroked your sides under the shirt you wore. He let out a low groan since you looked so good in his clothes. You let out a breathless moan as he cupped you breasts. Miguel was going to wait until you were completely in his grasp before telling you. After all, you couldn't say no. You were going to be his good girl forever.
"M-Miguel?" You whined softly as he took your shirt off, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples. 
"You're not going back to work," Miguel whispered as he started to grind his bulge against your cunt, "You're going to stay here. Make it look like you died with the others."
"W-What?!" You asked, but flung your head back as Miguel sucked on your breasts.
        You moaned softly as Miguel spread you legs, allowing him to rut into you rougher. You felt yourself getting wetter. The boxers he let you wear were too thin and easy for him to grind against. You tried to ask him what he meant, but you were being overwhelmed with pleasure. Miguel's hands were now resting against the boxers, rubbing your clit against the fabric. You body leaned into his touch, desperate for more. His tongue swirled around your nipple, making his way back up to your neck.
"You're going to stay here, baby." He whispered again, his fingers dipping under the boxers and circling your clit, "My beautiful angel. I can't let anyone have you. I can't let anyone harm you. You were always mine."
"Mhm~ M-Miguel~"
"(Y/N), don't be afraid of me. I will never harm you." Miguel watched as you bit you lower lip, moving your hips with his hand, "Así es. Déjame convertirte en la esposa perfecta. Déjame manchar tu hermosa inocencia. (That's right. Let me fuck you into the perfect wife. Let me taint your beautiful innocence." He groaned lowly.
        You whimpered a moan as you felt a knot tighten inside you. Miguel moved his fingers faster against your clit, causing that knot to tighten. You tried to rub your legs together, but Miguel kept them spread. He sucked against your neck, groaning as you cam from just him playing with your clit. His fingers dipped lower, two digits entering your tight, soaked cunt. You moaned again, your cunt squeezing his fingers as he pumped inside you.
"Ah, my sweet innocent little angel. Watching you break because of me is so delicious." Miguel groaned as you squirmed and moved your hips to his touch, "You're going to stay here. I'll make sure no one will ever hurt you again, understood?"
"Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried out as his fingers feverishly fucked your tight gummy walls.
        You whined as Miguel raised your legs over his shoulders. Your pussy clenched his fingers as he started to curl against your sweet spot. You flung your head back as he started to wiggle his fingers inside you. His thumb rubbed against your clit again, bringing you over to the edge. Miguel wasn't making any sense, but his words were making you wetter. Honestly, with how tonight went, you wouldn't mind being stuck in Miguel's home forever. He was your protector.
"M-MIG-" You screamed out as you reached another orgasm. Miguel pulled his fingers out, licking them,
"You even taste sweet," He hummed, holding his erection towards your twitching folds, "You have no idea the amount of men I had to get rid of to make sure you stayed innocent, just for me. Seré tu primero en todo... y tu último. (I will be your first for everything...and your last.)" He groaned.
        You whimpered as you felt Miguel's dick stretch you out painfully. His cock was so thick and long. Your pussy was convulsing around him, sucking him in while drool rolled down your lips. He was making you feel so full. You wanted to question him on what he meant by getting rid of people, but you started to get drunk off his cock. Another whimper escaped your lips as Miguel groaned, fitting his whole length inside you. You swore that he was pressing against your cervix, but you weren't sure. This was a first for you.
"Un ajuste perfecto. Fuiste hecho para mí, cariño. Voy a grabar la forma de mi polla en tu memoria. (A perfect fit. You were made for me, darling. I'm going to fuck the shape of my dick into your memory.)" He groaned, slowly pulling out of you, "Killing all those people made this worth it."
"H-Huh?"
        You moaned loudly as Miguel thrusted his dick back inside you, hitting your cervix with each thrust. You cried out as Miguel started to bully your cunt, causing you to turn into putty under him. You could barely feel your legs as the slapping sounds between you grew louder. His dick forming a perfect space inside your pussy. You trembled as you started to reach another orgasm, unable to take the pleasure that he was filling you with.
"Look at you, so fucked out on my cock. How does it feel to get fucked by Ghostface, baby? Does my dick feel that good?" Miguel moaned as you tighten around him, "Yes, it does, doesn't it. Why else would you be squeezing me this tight?"
"H-Hah~ Ah~ Y-You're....ah~ mhpm...G-Ghost...f-face?" You whimpered lowly. Miguel fasten his pace, enjoying the white ring that formed around his dick,
"Yes. I'm the scary Ghostface that killed those asshole coworkers of ours," He chuckled, stopping to fill you with his seed, "I told you that you'd be okay. I will never, ever hurt you. Only love you."
        You wanted to be scared. You truly did, but both your brain and your heart were only thinking about Miguel's dick pounding you still. His hot semen filling your womb as he kept fucking you dumb. You body twitched from overstimulation as Miguel started to rub your clit again. He leaned down to kiss you, biting you lower lip as you moaned for him. His grip tighten against your hips, rutting into you furiously. He wanted to make sure you knew that you were his.
"Awe? Tired already? I think I need to show you how many people I've killed for you. Here's the second victim." Miguel groaned as he cummed inside you again. 
"Mhm~" You muffled lowly, growing exhausted. Miguel chuckled as he pulled you to his lap,
"Tienes razón cariño. Vas a ser la esposa de Ghostface. Siempre puedo mostrarte mi amor en cualquier momento. (You're right darling. You're going to be Ghostface's wife. I can always show you my love anytime.)
----------
        When you woke up, Miguel was by your side with water, vitamins and breakfast. He had bathed you and put on a fresh pair of clothes. You recalled his confession from last night and grew slightly nervous. Miguel, the man you longed for, was the murderous Ghostface. He killed your coworkers and faked your death. You now belonged to Miguel. You wanted to be scared, but Miguel had proved to you that he was never going to hurt you.
        Maybe it was your blind faith or actually being fucked dumb, but you willingly agreed to stay with Miguel. You stayed in his place as his house wife, greeting him with love everyday. Miguel rewarded your love with his brutal sex, reminding you that you belonged to him. By next Halloween, Miguel returned to his Ghostface persona, needing to release some steam. You became his accomplish, making sure that he returned home safe and sound.
"How was my good girl tonight?" Miguel hummed as he slapped his dick into your soaked pussy. You whined into the bedsheets,
"D-Distracted t-the...ah~ police...s-sending em...mhm~ opposite side of...of....ah~ t-town~!" You cried out. Miguel groaned happily, harshly shoving his dick deeper into you to fill,
"That's my perfect angel. Well done."
"T-Thank you!" You moaned against him, shaking from the pleasure. Miguel hummed happily as he kept thrusting inside you,
"I think you deserve a reward. Why don't we try making a little Ghostface jr?"
"Yes! Yes!"
        Your vision blurred as you moved in rhythm to Miguel's thrusts. Your mind started to fill with lust as you became tainted by Miguel. You were just as bad as him now, but you didn't care anymore. As long as Miguel was there to love you and protect you, you were okay. You moaned loudly as you cam against his dick, burying your head into the pillow again. You were happy with you life now. You were going to protect and live with Miguel forever.
Forever as Ghostface's wife.
2K notes · View notes
jessiexflem · 5 days ago
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– life of the party | jessie fleming x reader
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content: a little fluffy Jessie blurb for your new year's eve :)
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“Are we lame?” you frown.
Jessie sets two wine glasses on the counter and scoffs, “We are not, why would you think that?”
Raising an eyebrow at her, you gesture to your New Year’s Eve set-up, which consisted of a bottle of sauvignon blanc and a 1000-piece puzzle. Empty takeout containers from your favorite sushi restaurant littered your dining table. Despite protest from your friends, you and Jessie opted to stay in this New Year’s, wanting to spend time with just each other. 
“Hey, you were the one who asked if we could pick out a new puzzle,” your girlfriend retorts, handing you your glass of wine before settling on the floor next to the coffee table. You slide off of the couch to sit next to her.
“Cheers?” you hold your glass out, and Jessie clinks hers to yours. 
Sipping on your wine, you and Jessie sit in comfortable silence as you work on opposite sides of your puzzle. You make a face at the pile of blue pieces in front of you, cursing yourself for picking one with a solid background.
“I don’t like this one,” you sigh.
“We’ve barely started on it,” Jessie chuckles, “I–”
“Don’t you dare,” you shoot a playful glare at your girlfriend, knowing that an ‘I told you so’ was about to leave her lips. 
You were never really into puzzles until you started dating Jessie, and even now, your patience was thin with them. Normally, you would start working on the border until you get frustrated, then spend the rest of your time cuddling into Jessie and watching her finish the rest. You had been at the store earlier today, when you pointed out the puzzle to your girlfriend. She tried to tell you that she knew you wouldn’t enjoy this particular one, but you insisted on buying it to add to your collection.
“Which part are you stuck on?” she asks, glancing over to your side of the table. Jessie places a few pieces down, finding the correct ones almost immediately. 
“How are you so good at this?”
“Practice,” a smile quirks at Jessie’s lips, “and patience.”
You roll your eyes before glancing at your phone, noting the time. “Oh, the countdown! Turn on the TV!”
Jessie obliges and flips the channel to the New Year’s Eve countdown.
“Shoot, I’ve got to figure out who I’m going to kiss at midnight,” she jokes, “What about you? Do you have a New Year’s kiss?” 
“Well, there’s this really cute girl sitting near me that I’m hoping will let me kiss her,” you grin, “Lots of freckles and curly hair, she’s exactly my type.”
“One minute!” the television host chirps into his microphone.
Jessie stands, holding her hand out to you to help you off the floor. Excitement fills inside of you, as the countdown gets closer to midnight. 
“For the record, I think that girl with the freckles and curly hair wants to kiss you at midnight, too,” your girlfriend smirks, pulling you into her so that you’re standing chest to chest.
“Yeah?” you wrap your arms around her neck as her hands find their way to your hips. 
“Five, four,” shout the announcers on the television, “Three, two, one!”
“Happy New Year, love,” Jessie whispers before leaning in, her lips pressing against yours.
“Happy New Year, my darling,” you smile, a yawn escaping your lips.
“Ready for bed?” Jessie asks, matching your yawn with one of her own.
You glance at the clock behind Jessie’s head. 9:01 PM. Three hours until midnight in Portland. The sounds of Ryan Seacrest and his celebrity friends celebrating the New Year in New York City continued to fill your living room. You look back at Jessie, who wore a sheepish smile on her face.
“Okay,” she admits, “we might, just maybe, be a little bit lame.”
You giggle, pulling your girlfriend toward your shared bedroom. “I wouldn’t want to be lame with anyone else next year.”
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gotta-winwin · 11 days ago
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(🎄) ... mirth and good cheer - xmas special
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⭐ starring: vernon
🎄preview: vernon used to fly back to new york every christmas for one reason only: his childhood best friend. christmas used to be his and y/n’s thing, until he got seemingly too busy to ever return. now, as y/n departs to korea for the first time, she can’t help but wonder if her and vernon would ever cross paths again. vernon, unbeknownst to her, has been wondering the exact same thing. as the boys set up their christmas tree in their dorm, he does his best to ignore how hints of y/n still seemed to linger throughout the holiday air. 
tw/cw: idol!vernon x nonidol!reader, childhood friends to lovers, estranged friends, slight miscommunication, fluff, slight angst, best christmas romcom vibes, features svt members, stubborn!reader, equallystubborn!vernon, use of y/n, flips between past and present day
☁️ masterlist & a/n: dropping a vernon x reader fic for our xmas special! doesn't vernon just scream childhood bestie to lover (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ merry christmas my loves!
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11 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:
“That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” Mingyu slapped Vernon’s hand away from the tree they were decorating. “It’s supposed to be symmetrical, not whatever you’re doing.”
Vernon had to admit he wasn’t really paying attention. Their dorm auntie, the one who came around once a week to clean up the place, had baked them gingerbread men as a Christmas gift, and the smell felt like it had seeped into the walls of their dorm. It was a nostalgic smell, one that took him back to his childhood, new york and-
“Vernon?” Mingyu waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening right now?”
He blinked, brought back from his thoughts. “Sorry, hyung. What?”
Mingyu could only let out a deep sigh, moving to place the bauble where he intended it to be. “You’re like this every Christmas. If you miss her so much, why don’t you just fly back?”
Vernon didn’t really know why he wasn’t flying back. He certainly could be, they were off work for the holidays and a plane ticket back wasn’t hard to find. He would be doing himself a favor, putting himself out of misery and finally seeing his childhood best friend. The thing was, he wasn’t really sure if Y/N wanted to see him. He shrugged. “I don’t miss her.” It was a lie and everyone in the room knew it. 
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CHRISTMAS DAY 2003: 
Everyone who knew either of them would say they were smart kids for their age. Both only five, they whispered secrets to each other like little middle schoolers would on the playground. 
“My parents say I’m going to Korea.” Vernon whispered to Y/N as they watched a christmas movie. “Forever.” Vernon always had a dramatic, theatrical side to him, even as a child.
Y/N could only frown. “Forever? Why?” She couldn’t imagine her best friend moving anywhere without her. “Am I going too?” 
Vernon mirrored her frown on his own face. “I don’t know.” Sensing her sadness, he reached over and gave her a hug. “I’ll visit every year.” He promised. 
“Every christmas.” Y/N insisted. She had always loved christmas above all else. “So we can watch movies again.”
Vernon agreed. “Okay. Every christmas. It’ll be like-” He paused, his young mind searching for the word. “Tradition.” He smiled at her, proud of the big word. 
“Promise?” Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, reaching out with her pinky, extended. “Pinky promise me.” 
Vernon grasped her pinky with his, shaking it firmly. He felt like a grown up, making one of those important business deals. “I promise.” Turning back to the screen, he let out a whine when he realized they had missed the best part. “We missed the part where the grinch screams down the mountain.” He complained. “I wanted to watch that part.”
Y/N got up, searching for the remote. “I’ll turn it back.” 
Their dynamic never changed, even as they grew older. Vernon walked through life, Y/N following behind him with eyes filled with admiration, gently nudging the boy whenever he got distracted and began walking off-track. It stayed that way even with the distance, until one Christmas, Y/N woke up and Vernon had not returned. 
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CHRISTMAS DAY 2016:
“Mom?” Y/N called as she walked slowly down the stairs. She had returned home from university for the holidays and was confused when Vernon wasn’t at his usual spot to welcome her home. “Where’s Vernon?” He was usually back from Korea by now.
She didn’t like the look of pity her mother was giving her. “He didn’t tell you, honey? He’s been so busy with work, looks like he can’t fly back to join us for christmas this year.”
She felt her heart sink. She had been looking forward to spending time with him, even if it was just a couple of days out of the year. “Oh.” Of course, she understood. His work was important and she was sure the kpop industry couldn’t be easy. “That’s okay. I guess he must’ve been too busy to tell me.” 
--
“What are you still doing here?” Joshua frowned at Vernon, who was lying down on his bed. “Shouldn’t you be in New York by now?” He was used to Vernon flying back to New York every christmas since they had met. 
Vernon let out a huff. “Not going back this year, Josh.” 
“Why not?” His friend pressed, confused. Vernon was usually so excited to go back. “Isn’t your friend going to be sad?”
“I can’t miss any more practice before our comeback. One Christmas should be fine.” Vernon explained, although his voice betrayed his disappointment. He had been looking forward to going back home, to be able to see Y/N again. He thought to himself that one christmas couldn’t hurt, right?
One Christmas missed turned into two. Then four. Then the timing felt too long and awkward and Vernon just never got the confidence to ever go back.
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10 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024: 
Korea was beautiful underneath a sheet of snow. Y/N had landed last night, having made up her mind to give living in Korea a try. Ever since graduating university and landing a job as a screenwriter, her friends and family had always urged her to try working for the Korean film scene. 
She supposed she had always just avoided the country because of Vernon.
Her new job writing for some K-drama started after New Years. She thought maybe spending Christmas in a new place would bring back the mirth and good cheer the holiday used to give her, but she knew she was here for a different reason. A selfish and pathetic one. It burned her, that a part of her still wished to bump into Vernon after all these years. She knew he was doing well, SEVENTEEN was soaring through new heights and she had kept tabs on his ongoing success. It was the only way she kept going: his large internet presence sometimes made it feel like he never even left at all.
It hurt her the most that he could be doing so well without ever seeing her again.
Rounding the corner to the coffee shop, she rubbed her raw hands to regain heat. Ordering, she was relieved to find out she could still hold a conversation in Korean. It had gone rusty, the only people she ever used Korean with back home was Vernon’s dad and sister. 
“Hello?” Someone from behind her tapped her on the shoulder. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
She was greeted by a slightly taller, blond man, sporting black rimmed glasses and holding a cup of iced coffee. Her mind short circuiting a bit from the sudden Korean, she paused, trying to recollect her thoughts before replying. “I don’t think so?” 
The man’s eyes widened in sudden recognition. “You’re the girl in the Christmas photos!” He exclaimed with wonder, pointing at her as if they were long lost friends.
She squinted, giving him another look over. “Um..” She frowned, quite sure she didn’t know this man. 
“Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly at her, extending his hand for a handshake. “That probably came out wrong. You’re Vernon’s friend from New York, right? I’ve seen you in the pictures on his wall.” 
She blanched, all of a sudden feeling very light and disoriented. “I’m sorry.” She smiled politely, still racking her brain furiously for the guy’s name. “How do you know Vernon?”
“I’m Seungkwan.” He explained, dropping her hand. “Vernon’s bandmate.”
She let out a sound of realization. “Ah~” She knew who he was. “Seungkwan. Sorry, I didn’t expect you to have blonde hair now.” 
Chuckling at her shy admission, Seungkwan felt strangely sad to see the girl in Korea. “When did you come to Korea?” He asked, knowing Vernon would lose his shit if he found out they had been in the same location for a while. 
“I arrived just last night.” 
He left out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Okay, at least it hadn’t been very long. “You should come to our Christmas party.” He suggested, knowing Vernon would be there. “It’s being hosted at Coups hyung’s house this year, and everyone will be there.”
Y/N shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to make things weird.” She already caught on to the fact that Seungkwan knew all about her and Vernon’s falling out, or lack of one. 
“You wouldn’t.” He insisted. “You must come. I’d hate to see you spend Christmas by yourself.” 
It didn’t take much for Y/N to relent. She supposed a part of her had been looking for a chance to see Vernon again. “Alright. I’ll stop by and say a quick hi to everyone.” 
Seungkwan’s smile was contagious as he beamed, grabbing a napkin to scribble Scoups’ address onto it and handing it to her. “It’s at 7pm on the 24th. Bring a present- something small.” He hurriedly gave her all the details as he left, mumbling about being late for a company meeting and how lovely it was to finally meet Vernon’s mystery girl.
Holding the napkin in her still freezing hand, Y/N felt utterly shipwrecked as she watched Seungkwan leave. Nine days was enough to prepare her heart to see Vernon again, right?
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12 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS 2024: 
The frost in the air bit at Y/N’s face and neck as she quickly rang the doorbell to Seungcheol’s home. It was smaller than she had expected it to be, homey and comfortably situated in between two other larger houses. 
“Y/N!” Seungkwan greeted her as he opened the door, tugging her in. “Oh, look at you. You must be freezing. Come in, come in.” Taking her coat from her and hanging it up, he beamed down at her. “I’m so glad you actually came.” 
She bit back a smile, taking off her shoes. “I couldn’t turn down an invitation from Vernon’s friends.” 
“Vernon’s in the living room with the others.” Seungkwan pointed down the hall, directing her over. 
Y/N paused, loitering in the hallway between the door to the living room and the door to the kitchen. She felt strangely pulled towards the kitchen, knowing it’d be safe without the chance of a potential run-in with Vernon. Turning decisively towards the kitchen, she pretended not to hear Seungkwan’s deep sigh as he followed her in, knowing the boy was disappointed she had run away. 
“It’s the girl from Vernon’s photos!” Hoshi sprung off the kitchen island to greet her, handing her  a cup of mystery liquid. 
She sniffed it before cringing away at the strong liquor scent. “That’s me.” She mumbled, shoulders sagging a little. “Does he really still have photos of me up? 
Everyone in the kitchen nodded simultaneously. “It’s been on his wall since we were trainees.” Joshua informed her, his eyes holding a teasing glint. “Every time we move places he just puts it back up.” 
Y/N didn’t really know what to do with that information. “Oh.” She replied, looking down in her cup, thinking. “I didn’t know that.” 
Seungkwan let out a loud sigh once again. “You should go talk to him.” 
She looked up. 
“Please.” He added, his tone bordering on begging. “He’s been so grumpy. Especially during the holiday season. I got a pillow to the face for asking him a simple question yesterday.” He grumbled out, complaining about his moody roommate. 
“What did you ask him?” Joshua asked, mildly curious.
Seungkwan shrugged. “Just if he was going back to New York.”
“Of course he threw a pillow at you.” Joshua rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised he didn’t just deck you, with how you were antagonizing him. You know very well he hasn’t gone back in years.” 
Y/N watched the conversation silently, gagging quietly as she sipped the concoction Hoshi had handed her. She absorbed the information diligently, her eyes widening the more information she got on Vernon. Distance had turned him into a stranger - and now, well, she couldn’t really say she knew him at all. It was strange, having to admit someone she used to read like the back of her own hand was someone she now didn’t know at all. 
“I’m going to the living room.” She decided, having had enough of the topic. If she kept listening to them talk about Vernon’s struggles and heartache about leaving her in New York one more minute she might find herself leaving for the night. Being in the same room with Vernon was just going to be awkward silence anyways. She knew he wasn’t brave enough to approach her. At least not tonight. 
--
“Y/N!” 
It was Mingyu and Wonwoo who greeted her from the couch, the two of them in the middle of an intense round of what looked to be Mariokart. They waved at her from their place, inviting her over to sit next to them. She was painfully aware of Vernon’s eyes staring at her from his place on the rug, fingers busy with a random puzzle that was lying out. 
“Hi guys.” She smiled, sitting down, laughing when Mingyu pushed Wonwoo in an attempt to disrupt his driving. 
“We didn’t know you were in Korea for Christmas!” Mingyu exclaimed. “Good thing Seungkwan bumped into you when he did and invited you over.” 
She glanced at Vernon, who was doing his best to pretend like he wasn’t interested in their conversation. “Yeah. I moved here recently actually. Got a job writing for a TV show.” 
Vernon’s eyes widened as he fixed his stare against the white rug. 
“That’s cool.” Wonwoo smiled at Y/N, happy for her. “It’s good that you’re in Korea now.” He side eyed Vernon, frowning when he realized the boy hadn’t even spoken to Y/N. Nudging him with his foot, he gestured with his gaze. “Did you hear Vernon? Y/N got a job here.”
Vernon nodded stiffly before standing up. “I think Cheol hyung’s calling me, I’ll- I’ll go see what he wants.” And just like that he was gone, rushing out of the living room. 
Wonwoo looked apologetically at Y/N. “I’m sorry about that.”
She shrugged, although her heart had cracked at the movement. “It’s okay.” 
“Maybe now that you’re in Korea you guys can be friends again?” Mingyu suggested quietly, although a part of him wasn’t really certain about it. “Maybe?”
“Maybe.” She mumbled, taking another sip of her drink, feeling her face flush with heat. Anger or embarrassment, she couldn’t tell. 
Maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but Y/N could feel her lips start to loosen the more she sat with Mingyu and Wonwoo, the party heading later into the night. 
“You know I used to hate you guys.” She admitted all of a sudden, jolting both boys out of whatever conversation they were having. 
“What?” Wonwoo frowned. “Why?”
“I hated Vernon for choosing you guys over me.” She lowered her eyes to the floor, feeling ashamed. “I know it’s childish of me, but hating you guys was how I dealt with it. I couldn’t bring myself to hate Vernon for his own actions.” 
Mingyu looked at her with sad eyes as he patted her on the back gently. “I get that.” He reassured her, and she looked over at Wonwoo who was nodding as well. 
“Do you still hate us?” Wonwoo asked, his voice calm.
She shook her head. “No. So I guess I’m just-” She paused. “Confused now.”
She hated how pitiful their looks made her feel as she sat there, nursing her half finished drink, mind spinning. Perhaps it was time to leave her silly childhood infatuation with Vernon in the past. It seemed like he had done so already anyways. 
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10 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS 2024: 
Vernon felt like throwing up the moment he saw Y/N enter the party. It felt like a vision, something he had conjured up within his own mind, until the others had greeted her and shattered his vision into reality. 
“Talk to her, you moron.” Seungkwan nudged him. He had retreated from the living room into the kitchen the moment Y/N had sat down with the others on the couch. It physically stung to be in the same room as her, with all the knowledge that he had failed her and their once cherished friendship. 
He took another gulp of his drink instead of answering Seungkwan. 
“She clearly still loves you, y’know.” The boy continued upon hearing Vernon’s silence. “Or else she wouldn’t be here. And didn’t you always tell us Y/N would follow you around like a puppy whenever you were back home as kids?” 
Screw Seungkwan and his amazing, awfully selective memory.
“So?” Vernon mumbled, rolling his shoulders back and feeling himself tense. “Things change.”
“You’ve changed.” 
Vernon stared at his friend, thrown off by the sudden harsh truths. “What?”
“I don’t think she’s changed at all, Vernon.” Seungkwan observed. “It’s you who’s changed and you who has to fix it.” He paused. “Or at least explain it to her. Why you don’t want to be friends anymore.” 
“I do want to be friends.” He stated plainly.
Seungkwan cut his eyes at him, exasperated. “Then tell her that. Jeez, bro. You suck at this.” 
“We’re swapping presents now!” Seungcheol poked his head out from behind the hallway door. “Everyone in the living room!” 
Vernon grabbed his present from the counter and headed in behind Seungkwan and Joshua, turning the box in his hands as he examined the poor wrapping job he had done last night. He had bought the most generic gift he could find, knowing it was going to be a random swap with the boys. The thing he hadn’t accounted for was Y/N showing up - and now it had thrown both his present and him off the game. 
“Grab a pair.” Seungcheol announced loudly to everyone in the room, as there was a mad scramble for partners. 
Vernon found himself standing alone in the midst of his bandmates all already coupled up, limbs tangled together in an awkward mad dash for a partner. His eyes met the only other person with a partner and he stifled a pained cry. 
“It looks like you and Y/N are exchanging gifts this year, Non.” Seungkwan shot him a large grin from his spot next to Mingyu.
He knew this had to be preplanned - fate couldn’t be this cruel, right?
“Go on.” Seungkwan poked him in the back, urging him to approach Y/N, who suddenly seemed to be very captivated by a nearby portrait of Seungcheol and Kkmua, placed on the shelf next to her. She stared at it intensely, although Vernon knew she was still hyper-aware of the fact that he was slowly walking towards her. She had that funny way of darting her eyes towards the person she was avoiding while not facing in their direction. 
“Y/N.” Her name sounded so foreign yet so familiar across his tongue as he spoke.
“Vernon.” 
Her voice felt like coming home. 
“Here.” He placed his gift in her hands as he took hers, turning it awkwardly in his hands. “What is it?” He asked, shaking it gently. 
The corners of her mouth lifted. “Telling you would defeat the purpose of it being a surprise.” 
“You said that last time too.” 
He watched her stiffen at his words and he immediately regretted bringing up the past. They both knew last time had been years ago. 
“I guess I did.” She replied stiffly, turning his gift in her hands. “What’s yours?”
“Thought you liked your presents to be a surprise?” He recalled, remembering how she used to whine that he must wrap her presents, when the teenage him had insisted that just putting it in a bag would be fine. 
“I do.” Her tone made it sound like she was just remembering that fact herself. She looked up and shot him an awkward smile. “I guess I don’t really know what to say.”
“Me either.” 
He could’ve sworn he saw her face drop at his words. 
They separated soon after, the uncomfortable silence taking over and suffocating them both out of the vicinity of each other. Vernon returned to his spot in the kitchen, picking at the pieces of takeout still leftover on the counter, listening to the others squabble over meaningless things. 
He watched Y/N leave, feet rooted by the hallway door and mouth firmly shut closed - he didn’t trust himself to say goodbye to her - he knew that if he had, a million unsaid words would have spilled out and the night would have ended terribly for the both of them. But it was the fear that kept him still most of all, as he watched her exchange numbers with Seungkwan, hugging the others and promising to keep in touch. He stayed as still as a statue as the door shut behind her. 
“You idiot.” Seungkwan turned to face him as soon as he locked the door. 
“Seungkwan.” Seungcheol’s warning tone made Vernon look at him. He was sending a strong warning glance at the boy. 
“What?” Seungkwan protested. “He is being stupid.” 
“I think I’m going to head back.” Vernon mumbled, grabbing his coat and hurriedly throwing it on, Y/N’s gift clutched tightly under his arm as he headed for the door. “Thanks for the party, Coups hyung.” He called behind him, shutting the door behind him and welcoming in the cool, biting winter air. 
He released the pent up breath that had been choking him all night and furiously wiped away the tears that had begun to form the moment he shut the door behind him. 
“Idiot.” He quietly chided himself. “So stupid.”
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CHRISTMAS 2018: 
“Are you really never going back to New York?” Joshua prodded at his arm with an insistent jab of a finger. 
Vernon hummed in response. “There’s no point. My family prefers coming to Korea for the holidays anyways. They get to visit family here and everything.” 
“What about your girlfriend?”
Vernon turned his head to see Joshua sporting a shit eating grin. “You know she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Might as well be.” He shrugged, pointing at the various photos that featured her against his wall. “Look at your pathetic loving gaze at her in all of these photos. You’re not even looking at the camera in any of these.” 
Vernon frowned at his comment, taking a good look at the photos and realizing Joshua was right. “Doesn’t matter what I feel, hyung. She’s not my girlfriend.”
“She’ll never be if you don’t go back.” Joshua suddenly got serious, as he shifted in his seat to look at Vernon better. “Is there an actual reason why you won’t go back? I know we were too busy the last two years but this year we’re free.” 
Vernon stayed silent even though the answer was clear as day in his mind. He was scared, terrified even. Terrified he had hurt her by neglecting her due to his heavy schedules, that she would slam the door in his face if he tried to visit her. “I don’t want to see her hate me.” He finally spat out, cringing as he said it. 
Joshua let out a tiny noise of understanding. “So you’re avoiding her. Pretending so you don’t have to deal with the consequences.”
“When you put it like that you make me sound like an asshole.” 
Joshua gave him a look that bordered on pitiful. “I don’t know what to tell you, man.” 
“I’d rather remember her like this, y’know?” He said, pointing at the way she smiled at him in the pictures on his wall. “Instead of-”
“She might not hate you.” Joshua reminded him quietly from next to him. 
“I really, really doubt that, hyung.” 
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5 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS: 
It wasn’t computing properly into Vernon’s head that you had just gotten him the one thing he’s been wanting all his life. 
He had been ogling the Novation Launchpad Pro that was currently sitting on his work table for the last hour, not really believing what he was seeing with his own two eyes. Unwrapping it had been a heart attack in of itself, as he opened up Y/N’s present to reveal the one thing that had been sitting on the top of his childhood wish list since he could remember. Even now, as a famous artist who could afford the splurge, he had never gotten it for himself, knowing it was a luxury and a purchase he didn’t necessarily need. 
“What the fuck, Y/N.” He muttered in disbelief, sliding his palm down his face as he continued to stare at the gift. It was fucking fantastic and exactly what he wanted, and it made him feel even worse about the whole situation. 
She might not hate you. He recalled the words Joshua had told him one time, Christmases ago. 
“Someone who hated me wouldn’t have gotten me this, right?” He said aloud to himself, reaching a timid hand out to fiddle with the launchpad controls. “How did she even know we’d be exchanging gifts anyways?” And how on earth does she know I never got myself one? In what felt like a split second decision, Vernon felt himself walking towards the door of his apartment, sliding his shoes on and grabbing his keys - only one destination in mind. He had to fix this, somehow. Because there was no fucking way she still hated him.
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4 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS:
She would’ve complained that the sudden doorbell at 3am woke her up but she hadn’t really been sleeping. Y/N had been lying in bed with her eyes wide open since the moment she’d gotten home, the bag of chocolates and various snacks from Vernon left on her kitchen counter. She had stifled a laugh when she opened it - even till this day, Vernon’s go to gift was still the same. Chocolate and snacks can never fail, he had told her, defending his choice of gift. Especially when you don’t know the person too well. 
She supposed that line made sense for their situation too. 
“Vernon?” She squinted at the figure standing on her porch in the dark. “What are you doing here?” She rubbed her eyes, mildly wondering if she was dreaming. 
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he stared down at her. “You got me the launchpad.” 
She blinked. “Yeah.”
“How’d you know?”
She stared back at him, stunned at his bluntness and the randomness of the current setting. “You never shut up about it.” 
His mouth opened and closed again. She watched as he tried looking for words, his vocabulary ultimately failing him. 
“Come inside.” She said quietly, noticing how the harsh winter wind blew at his thin coat. Dragging him gently inside, she shut the door behind them both, turning around awkwardly to face him. She never thought she’d ever see him in his apartment - yet he looked so perfect.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, eyes darting around her place, taking it all in. “I know it’s late.” Glancing down at her pajamas, his lips quivered in a small smile. “Cute.”
“What?” She stared at him indignantly, completely thrown off by his behaviour. “Are you drunk?” She reached out a hand to touch his face, trying to check his temperature, but he caught her hand in his before she could reach. 
“I’m not drunk, Y/N.” He dropped her hand like it had burned him. 
“Then what are you here for?”
She watched him moisten his lips as he stalled for time. 
“I wanted to say sorry.” He finally said, his words tumbling out as if they had been held back for long enough. “I shouldn’t have cut you off like that.” 
She thought she’d have a more visceral reaction to the apology she had been waiting for all this time, but she didn’t. “Why are you saying this now? It’s been nearly ten years, Vernon.” 
“I know. I’m sorry.” 
Her shoulders sagged at his words and the sight of his dejected, ashamed face. “Why didn’t you come back? Or text me?” She asked him, pleading for an answer. 
He finally looked up and met her eyes. “I guess I was scared. I got busy one year and didn’t go back- and I neglected our friendship. And then-” He paused, his voice breaking. “I left, and time passed and staying away felt simpler than going back. No goodbye felt better than a bad one.” 
“It wouldn’t have been a bad goodbye.” 
He shook his head. “You hated me.” 
She looked away, remembering all the times she had cursed him for leaving her behind when she was younger. “Maybe. But never for long.” She mustered all her courage to tell him her next words. “I loved you too much to hate you for very long.” 
Vernon blinked at her. “You loved me?”
She hummed in response, still not quite looking at him. They stood there, by her door, in the dim lights of her apartment. 
“How did you even get my address?” She suddenly asked, forgetting he shouldn’t have known where to find her. 
Vernon stayed silent, his mind still reeling from the sudden love confession. She used to love me? 
“Vernon.” Y/N nudged him. 
“Oh.” He finally responded, although his own voice felt like light years away as his mind continued to reel. “I asked my sister. Didn’t know you guys still talked.” 
“Oh.” 
“You used to love me?” He asked, incredulous, not quite believing her words. “Why?”
She laughed, and the sound wrapped around Vernon like her hugs used to. “What do you mean, why? Of course I loved you. I followed you around like a lost kid our entire childhood.” 
“I loved you too, y’know.” 
Her smile dropped as she paused mid-laugh. “What?” 
He took a step closer to her, unsure where the sudden confidence was coming from. Vernon searched her eyes for some figment of affection, for truth, for the way she used to look at him when they were younger. “I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.” He finally admitted. “I definitely tried to, but your hold on me lasted through distance and time.” 
“Me too.” 
“What?”
“I never stopped loving you too.”
245 notes · View notes
luminoustarlight · 1 year ago
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Saccharine | Modern!Anakin Skywalker
What do you get when you mix a college Halloween party with beer and a pretty girl wearing a pirate costume?
A jealous Anakin Skywalker.
rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 5.3k | read on ao3 warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, drinking, jealousy/possessiveness, SMUT [fingering, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v, come eating/swallowing, mild degradation, like a really brief moment of lactation kink(???)]
the lovely @queenie-official asked for someone to write anakin and reader at a halloween party and anakin gets jealous. i have no idea where 5.3k words came from but y'all i love this one!
and i dedicate this to @hanasnx because we were talking about how we would suck anakin's dick every day if we could.
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Here’s the thing about Halloween parties— or rather, Halloween and parties.
Anakin hates both of them. Halloween is a stupid holiday where girls wear short skirts, low-cut tank tops, and a pair of generic animal ears and call it a “costume”. Then they complain about being cold and ask for your jacket. It’s fucking October in New York, what do they expect? 
As for parties, Anakin has never liked them. He’s not a particularly social person. Hell, he’s not even that pleasant of a person but he somehow wound up with you as his best friend in college. He’s the grumpy to your sunshine. He’s a pessimist, you’re an optimist. He drinks black coffee, you like it full of syrupy caramel. He hates everything you like and you don’t understand any of the things he finds fascinating.
The logistics of your friendship is complicated. You don’t know why Anakin is the easiest person for you to talk to even though you have just about nothing in common. You don’t know why Anakin chooses to spend all of his time with you, even though there are other girls in his engineering classes who would kill to talk to him about their shared major. 
You don’t know why he holds your hand when you walk through Central Park while telling you about his hookups. (You wish he wouldn’t talk about other girls with you but you just like the sound of his voice so you do your best at drowning out the meaning of the words). 
If only he knew how miserable it makes you feel to hear about his dating life. If only you knew how difficult it is for you to do the same because every single guy is lack-luster compared to Anakin.    
“I hate parties,” Anakin states. He’s tossing a baseball— the foul ball he caught for you at a Yankees game— in the air to keep his hands busy.
“Yeah, but you love me,” you reply while taking a cream flowy blouse out of your closet. 
“Not if you make me go to this stupid Halloween party with you.” 
You roll your eyes and rest your shirt hanger on one of the knobs on your dresser. You catch the baseball midair and flop beside Anakin on your bed. He props up on an elbow and you just want to soothe the crease between his eyebrows. “Pleaaaase, Ani?” 
“No.” 
“Oh, c’mon! When’s the last time you did something for me?” 
“Look around, sweetheart,” Anakin gestures his arm out lazily. “I helped you move into this place.” 
You huff. “Okay, fine. But you offered. And if I recall correctly, I supplied you with all of the coffee and bagels your heart desired.” 
“There’s only one thing my heart desires.�� A lopsided grin forms on Anakin’s lips as his fingers brush against your elbow. It’s a barely there type of touch, one you might not even notice if it weren’t for the sparks you feel every time you and Anakin make contact. 
You fail to mask the sharp intake of air that passes through your teeth. “Wh-what’s that?” 
Anakin runs his tongue over his bottom lip and you think maybe, maybe he just might say what you want him to say. Your heart expands with hope as you await his answer with a bated breath. “To not go to a fucking Halloween party.” 
And just like that, your hope deflates. Of course he wasn’t being serious. Why does his blatant disinterest in you make tears threaten behind your eyes? Is your affectionate friendship really so common that it doesn’t mean anything to him?   
You quickly stand up from your bed and distract yourself by finding the skirt you want to wear in your pile of clothes on the floor. You clear your throat and rapidly blink back any tears before they fall down your cheeks. “Fine,” you say as you find your skirt. “I don’t want you there anyway. It’s the senior Halloween party and I’m not going to miss it because of you.”
“Fine,” Anakin says back. “Go. I don’t care.” 
You gather your clothes in your arms and stand at the foot of your bed. “I have to get dressed first.” 
“So?” Anakin is back to throwing the baseball in the air. Oh, you hate him so much sometimes. You swat the ball out of the air so it lands on Anakin’s stomach, making him groan and his legs curl up to his chest. “Ow.” 
 “So, get out,” you instruct. 
“Jeez. Alright, alright.” Anakin slowly gets up from your bed, being the overly dramatic douche you had to fall in love with. “What, they didn’t put enough sugar in your coffee this morning?” 
“Out!” you point to your door. You’re fuming with him. Why does he have to be so fucking difficult? At this point, you don’t even want to go to the party but you’ll go anywhere to get away from him. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 
You take a good thirty minutes to get ready for the party. Inspired by a recent rewatch of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies, you decided to dress up as a pirate. You didn’t have to buy a shirt or skirt, which helped keep the cost down. You did purchase a corset, hat, and knee high boots from a thrift store in Brooklyn. With the crimson scarf you’ve had since freshman year wrapped around your waist, you’re set. 
Anakin waits for you on your aubergine couch in your living room. Why he’s waiting, you’re unsure. He’s stretched across the entire length of the couch, his long legs hanging over the armrest. Upon hearing your boots scuff across the floor, he quickly locks his phone and stands from the couch. 
“What are you still doing here?” you brush past him and into the kitchen. 
“I changed my mind,” Anakin replies, following you. You don’t notice the way he looks you up and down, soaking in the entire image of you. The scoopy neckline of your shirt, the flounce of your brown skirt, and the tightness of the corset. The only thing he’s disappointed by is the length of your skirt. It’s not short enough. 
Still, there’s no way he’s letting you go to the party alone. Somebody has to pretend to be your protective boyfriend to keep the college douchebags away. “I’m going with you.” 
You turn around without realizing how close Anakin is to you. You practically step on his toes. He looms over you and you fear he might actually hear your heart racing with how close he is. You back away, straightening your skirt for no other reason than to not look at Anakin. “Are you, now?” 
“Yes.” Anakin crosses his arms. “Are you ready?” 
“You’re going like that?” You counter. “In a zip-up Yankees hoodie?” 
“Take it or leave it, sweetheart.” 
You hate him. You love him. You hate that you love him because you know he doesn’t feel the same way. At least not in a romantic way. You grab a banana off of the counter and march toward the door. “I’d rather leave you here.” 
“Not an option.” Anakin closes your door and uses his key to lock it. The act of him using the key you gave him for emergencies makes your insides twist. It’s on a ring with his own apartment key, as if he’d need yours as frequently as he needs his own. 
You walk down the hallway with a quick pace and make a point to stomp down the stairs, even if it annoys your neighbors more than Anakin. “You’re being exceptionally annoying today.” 
“Thank you,” Anakin accepts the insult as if it’s a compliment. He holds the lobby door open for you and a rush of late October air attacks your skin. You have to hold your hat on your head so it doesn’t blow away. You make an effort not to shudder in front of Anakin, knowing how much he hates girls being unprepared for the weather. At least you’re wearing long sleeves. But it’s not not like the fabric was made to keep the Autumn chill out. 
The party is only a couple of blocks away in Hell’s Kitchen and you’re determined to stay silent all the way there. You’ll just eat your banana and pray Anakin isn’t in a rare talking mood. 
“Why are you walking so fucking fast? I have longer legs than you and I’m practically running.” 
You ignore him. You just want to go to the party, have a couple of drinks, maybe flirt with some guys you have no intentions of screwing, and then go home. Preferably without the puppy dog currently following you. 
“So. Pirate. Interesting choice. You got a thing for Jack Sparrow or something?” Why does he never have anything interesting to say when you actually want to talk to him? Now he can’t seem to shut up. 
Just one more block. Why did he change his mind? Why couldn’t he just be content with going back to his apartment and finding someone to hook up with? You’re sure that’s what he was doing while you were getting ready. The way he locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket when he heard you come out of your room. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like you two are dating or anything. He doesn’t have to hide his booty calls from you. 
“I see what you’re doing,” Anakin jogs in front of you and starts walking backwards. “You’re ignoring me.” 
You give him a look that has “No shit, Sherlock” written all over it. 
“Y’know I don’t like being ignored. I’m too sensitive.” 
You have to laugh. “You? Sensitive?” 
“Ha!” Anakin points at you. “Gotcha.” 
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “We’re here, anyway. I know you’re just gonna find a corner and sulk in it so please, just let me have a good time tonight.” 
“Alright,” Anakin surrenders. You walk into the brick building together, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your bones. “But just one thing.” 
You raise your brows, waiting for him to continue. “You look beautiful tonight.” 
Your heart skips a beat and you hate how easily he makes you swoon. How easily your feelings of irritation disappear after one compliment. “Just tonight?” 
“Ah- what?” Anakin looks at you quizzically. Perhaps he didn’t hear you over the booming music and chatter. 
“Never mind!” you shout. “I’m gonna get a drink. You want a beer?” 
“Sure,” Anakin shrugs. You nod and skip off without another word. When you don’t come back after twenty minutes, Anakin starts to worry. It doesn’t matter how many girls have come up to him and batted their lashes at him. It doesn’t matter that he has 11 unread messages from several past hookups waiting for him on his phone. What matters is that you’re alone at a college party with booze and guys who get a little too handsy when they’re drunk. 
He pushes himself through the crowd, not an ounce of care that he’s severely undressed and out of place. Actually, he’s overdressed. He didn’t know the fire marshal could allow so many shirtless ‘Gladiators’ in one building. And here he thought only girls used Halloween as an excuse not to wear anything. He bumps into several people on his quest for you. 
“Hey, man! Watch it!” 
“Yo, dickhead, you made me spill my beer!” 
“What are you supposed to be? A sad Yankees fan?” 
Anakin hardly hears any of it. Actually, everything seems to fall silent when he spots you. Every other body blurs as he focuses on you and your hand on the forearm of some guy dressed as Captain Kirk from Star Trek. At least he has a goddamn shirt on. It doesn't make the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach disappear, though. You know why? It’s because you’re throwing your head back with laughter. Real, genuine laughter. What is this guy saying to you? And why hasn’t Anakin made you laugh like that recently? 
When the familiar figure of Anakin approaches you, you instantly feel bad. You forgot to bring him his beer! And then you realize that you actually handed it to the guy you’re talking to. Oops? 
“Ani! I never brought you your beer! I am so sorry. I got distracted talking to- oh my God, I don’t even know your name!” 
“Oh, uh, Jeff,” the guy tilts his beer bottle toward you and smiles. You smile back and tell him your name. You also introduce Anakin, but he’s not feeling very friendly right now. He’s too busy criticizing the way Captain Kirk introduced himself. 
Oh, uh, Jeff? He had to think about his name? He couldn’t just say Jeff? 
“Jeff and I were talking about baseball. He’s a Mets fan, though,” you fake gag. “I told him about the foul ball you practically saved me from. Whew, my life flashed before my eyes.” 
“Yeah, they come out of nowhere when you’re not paying attention.” 
Anakin hates this guy. He fucking hates him. His fists clench by his side before sidling up next to you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist. You stumble when he pulls you toward him. “She was paying attention. Are you implying that she wasn’t watching the game?” 
“Anakin, it’s fine,” you place your hand on Anakin’s chest to calm him. “I’m sure that’s not what Jeff meant.” 
“Yeah, man, not at all. I’ve had a couple of close calls myself.” 
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been hit in the head a couple of times with the way you introduced yourself,” Anakin spits. “Who has to think about their name? ‘Oh, um, I can’t remember. I think my name is Jeff,’” Anakin mocks.  
“Anakin, stop,” you try pushing away from him. “You’re being incredibly rude.” 
“I don’t care,” he replies. He begins ushering you away from Walmart Captain Kirk. “We’re leaving.” 
“Seriously, Anakin,” you manage to slither out of Anakin’s grasp. “Stop it.” 
“Hey, is this guy bothering you?” Jeff puffs out his chest. 
Anakin steps in front of you and squares himself in front of the guy with no chance with you. “Funny, I was going to ask her the same thing about you.” 
“Are you her boyfriend or something?” 
“He’s not-” you begin, standing on your toes to talk over Anakin’s shoulder. 
“Something like that,” Anakin answers. Huh? 
“Whatever,” Jeff scoffs. “Thanks for wasting my time.” 
“Wait, Jeff!” you call. “It’s not like that-” 
“Let him go,” Anakin grits. “He’s not worth it.” 
You had almost forgotten about the frustration Anakin made you feel in your apartment. Now it’s all coming to the surface again. Yes, you feel bad for abandoning him and not bringing him his beer but he had no right to ruin your conversation like that. “Oh, and you are?”
“We’re not talking about this here.” Anakin turns and expects you to follow. You have half a mind not to scream at him in the middle of the party but it would be a waste of breath. He’s already nearing the door. You down the rest of your beer and follow Anakin out of the party and onto the street. 
It feels drastically colder outside but perhaps it’s all coming from Anakin’s stare. You stuff your hands beneath your arms in an attempt to keep them warm. “What the hell, Anakin? What was that all about?” 
“Nothing.” 
“I’m sorry, did you just say ‘nothing’? That was not nothing, Anakin. That was… that was…” you search for the word but your toes are starting to freeze. You don’t know how frozen toes correlate to not being able to think, but it does. The wind is biting at your legs and your teeth are chattering. 
“Jealousy?” Anakin fills in the blank. 
“Yes! Jealousy! Are you fucking jealous, Anakin?” 
“So what if I am?” 
You’re both shouting unnecessarily but you’re fucking pissed. This cannot be the way you admit your feelings for each other. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. It’s supposed to be romantic. It’s supposed to happen when you’re strolling through the park and the leaves are falling around you and you kiss and everything falls into place. It’s not supposed to happen during a screaming match on the sidewalk while you’re dressed like a historically inaccurate pirate. 
“So what if I feel like punching every single guy who talks to you? Or even look at you? Hm?” Anakin is backing you into the wall and you have no choice but to retreat. “I am jealous every fucking day. I feel possessive over you and I know I shouldn’t. You’re mine, even though you’re not.” Anakin has caged you in with his arms pressed against the wall above your head. His leg is nudged between yours and if you just lower yourself a tiny bit, you might feel a bit of friction where it’s needed. 
Anakin drops his head down so his nose brushes against your cheek. Your lips are so close, you can feel the warmth of his breath. “You never asked me,” you whisper. 
“What?” 
“You never asked me to be yours,” you unzip Anakin’s sweatshirt and slide your arms into the warmth of his jacket. You press yourself against his chest and you think perhaps everything is falling into place.
“Then I’m asking you now,” Anakin cradles your face in his hands. He runs his thumbs over your cheekbones and wonders why it took so damn long to finally get to this point. “Will you be mine?” 
“I already am.” You pull Anakin down to your lips by the collar of his sweatshirt. He tastes like Altoids and you taste like beer, which isn’t necessarily a pleasant combination but it doesn’t matter. Anakin’s lips are so plush and soft, everything you dreamed they’d be but better. They work against yours like it’s the only thing they’re made for. He’s groaning against you, slipping his tongue carefully past your lips. He’s not overzealous with it like some people are. It’s just perfect. He’s perfect. 
The heat in your core continues to grow and spread throughout your body, suddenly warming you up. “Anakin,” you murmur. 
“Hmm?” He replies, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. He pays attention to your neck—which smells of vanilla and everything nice— and is nibbling gently but kissing harshly. His hands have found their way to your breasts, massaging you through your bra and you just fucking wish he’d stop for a second because it’s all too distracting. 
“Anakin, stop,” you breathe out. 
“What? What, are you okay?” Anakin withdraws himself from you completely and you damn near whine at the loss of contact.
“I’m fine, Ani. More than fine.” 
Anakin relaxes at your assurance and takes a moment to admire you. Your hat is askew on your head and your shirt is crooked from him cupping with your boobs. He hopes the corset isn’t difficult to take off… 
“Anakin?” you snap your fingers in front of his face. 
“Huh?” 
“What are you thinkin’ about, pretty boy?” 
“So many things,” Anakin smirks.  
“Care to enlighten me at my apartment?” 
“Way ahead of you, babe.” Anakin whips out his phone and orders an Uber. He’s not walking five blocks back to your apartment with a hard-on. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 
You have no clue how either of you manage to keep your hands to yourself in the Uber, but you do. You hardly make it through your door before Anakin’s lips are back on yours with a heavy desperation. He throws your hat off, letting it land who knows where. His hand is on the back of your neck and you’re doing a clumsy dance around your living room. You’re tugging at the roots of his wavy hair, which he’s been growing out since last semester. 
You and Anakin are a mess of hands as you’re both trying to get the other’s clothes off with your mouths still attached to each other. He’s fumbling with the laces of your corset and you wonder how long it will take him to realize there’s a zipper in the back. 
You shrug off his sweatshirt, leaving him in a basic white tee. Anakin reluctantly breaks away from you when he accepts he’s getting nowhere with your corset. “This thing is fucking impossible,” he groans. 
You giggle as you draw the zipper down your back and remove the black corset from your body. You let it drop to the floor as you drape your arms around Anakin’s neck. “You were saying?” 
“I hate you,” Anakin says with a smile. 
“You love me.” 
“So much,” he replies, lips trailing down your neck once again. “I love you so much it consumes me. I’ve tried to fill this void inside of me with other women but it’s never enough. It’s not enough because they’re not you.”
You’re smiling so widely your cheeks hurt. You consume him. He loves you. You’ve never been happier. “I love you too, Anakin. You have no idea.”
“I have some idea,” he smiles. He grabs a fistful of your skirt and slips his hands beneath the hem to find your panties. “Are you going to let me take care of you tonight?” 
“Anything,” you nod, giving him the permission to remove your panties. You take off your boots and blouse and while it’s by no means a show, Anakin is enjoying every second of it. 
“I’ll let you do anything, Anakin.” You unclip your bra so all that you’re left in is your skirt. Anakin is still wearing a shirt and jeans, which is only mildly infuriating since his golden tan skin looks so radiant against the bright white of his shirt. 
As Anakin admires you, he can’t possibly be filled with any more lust than he is right now. Three years of pining after you is surging through his veins and his cock is insanely hard. He’s imagined this so many times. Would he fuck you slowly? Or maybe you’d rather have it fast and hard. Do you like to be called sweet things? Would you be his good girl? Or would you rather be his little slut? 
He’s overwhelmed with the incessant need to taste your cunt. “Get on the couch,” he instructs. “Take your skirt off, too. I want to see all of you.” 
You nod and once you’ve stepped out of the fabric, you situate yourself on your couch. Anakin kneels down in front of you and resists the urge to spread your legs open so he can see your pussy. “You have to take something off, too,” you say sweetly.  
Anakin swiftly tears his shirt over his head and you knew he was fit, but you just didn’t realize how fit. “Oh my God,” you practically drool. 
“Yeah?” Anakin smirks whilst hooking his arms beneath your thighs, pulling your ass to the edge of the couch. His cock strains against his jeans even more now that he can see your glistening pussy. “You like what you see, sweetheart?” 
You shrug. “Mm, yeah. It’s alright, I guess.” 
“You’re a little brat,” Anakin says before kissing up your thigh. The feather-light touch of his warm lips makes you wiggle. Your hand rests atop of Anakin’s head, fingers massaging his scalp in an effort to keep him traveling up to your core. “You’re lucky I can’t resist a pretty pussy like yours.” 
“Is it the prettiest?” 
Anakin lays a kiss on the inside of your other thigh. His nose brushes against your clit as he places a chaste kiss over your folds while running two fingers down your slit. “No doubt about it, babe,” Anakin praises. Fuck, you smell divine. He wants to spend all day between your thighs.  “The absolute prettiest. Bet you taste the sweetest, too.”
With that, Anakin dips a finger inside of you, making you gasp. “Fuck, sweetheart,” Anakin sucks in a breath. He lays his head on your thigh to watch his finger disappear inside of you and then reappear glistening with your juices. “How can you be this wet already? I’ve barely gotten started.” 
You roll your head along the couch cushions, impossibly worked up and craving more than just one of Anakin’s fingers. “Then show me what you’re made of, Skywalker.” 
Oh, that sends a jolt straight through Anakin’s cock. He wastes no more time teasing you and slips another finger into your hole while attaching his lips to your clit. He flicks the tip of his tongue over your bundle of nerves, two long fingers are curling against your walls, and Anakin can’t get enough. Pussy just tastes better when you love the person you’re eating out. It’s pure saccharine to him. He needs it pumped into his blood to survive. 
Anakin finesses his cock out of his pants and strokes himself several times to alleviate the terrible pain that has come over him. Your strangled cries of pleasure and hand on his head pushing him further into your cunt encourages Anakin to add a third finger. “Anakin! Fuck!” 
“You like that, baby?” Anakin is breathless, lips coated with your nectar. “You like being stretched by my fingers?” 
“Mm,” you hum, fisting his hair, “yes.” 
“Bet you do.” Anakin bites the inside of your thigh and pumps his three digits agonizingly slowly so he can really admire the stretch. It’s a toe curling sensation and a bit foreign more than anything. You had no idea fingers could feel so good. Maybe it’s just Anakin’s. He places the pad of his thumb on your clit, applying even pressured circles and yeah, it’s totally just Anakin who makes you feel this good. “Good little whores love to be stretched out.” 
“Oh my God!” you exclaim, pussy clenching at Anakin calling you a whore. Your bodily response doesn’t go unnoticed by Anakin. No, he’s storing all of this in his memory, creating a file of all the things that make you go wild. “Fuck me, Anakin. Please.” 
“Currently doing that with fingers, sweetheart.” He pumps his fingers faster but rolls over your nub with a more delicate touch. By now you’re squirming off of the couch, heels digging into the cushion and all you can do is chant Anakin’s name. You’re caught in a dichotomy of wanting to cum while also wanting Anakin’s cock. “C’mon, angel, let it go. I want you to cum on my fingers before you take my cock.” 
“But I- hngh…” your words are mangled as it’s no longer an option to stave off your orgasm. Your clit is overly sensitive and the tightness in your tummy begins to unravel as your walls pulse around Anakin’s three fingers. “Mm— oh, fuck! Ani-”
“That’s it, baby,” Anakin coos. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cum.” He draws his fingers from you one by one, each time making you cry from emptiness. Anakin sits beside you on the couch, bringing his fingers soaked in your goodness up to your mouth. You open obediently, only taking in two of them. Your tangy sweetness coats your tongue and you’re looking straight into Anakin’s ocean eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you feel seasick. 
When Anakin takes his fingers out of your mouth, you maneuver yourself on top of Anakin. The rough denim of his jeans creates a rough contrast to the silky tip of his cock poking your thigh. He manages to get his jeans down his legs and around his ankles. Kicking his feet out of them impatiently, his large hands find a home on your breasts while you grab the base of him and position him under your cunt. He’s kneading your mounds gently, rolling your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You slot your lips between his as you lower yourself onto his lap. 
“F-fuck, Ani,” you rest your forehead on Anakin’s as your breathing becomes one. He runs his hands down your tummy, landing on your waist and gives you an encouraging squeeze. “So big, so full,” you murmur. Anakin guides your hips forward and backward, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. He’s sucking down hard, no other thought other than claiming you as his.
It’s fucking magnificent having his cock nestled deep inside of you while you’re moaning in his ear, and soft hands roaming his upper body. His hands drop down to your ass, grabbing a handful of your peachy cheeks. You start bouncing on his cock, each time you drop down you feel like he’s in your stomach. “Cunt’s so fuckin’ greedy,” Anakin groans. “You just can’t get enough of my cock, can you?” 
“Mmh, nuh uh,” you babble mindlessly. Your legs are starting to ache but the pain goes in tandem with the pleasure. Anakin presses your chest to his with his arms around your back. You kiss along his jaw lazily, feeling your energy deplete with each landing on Anakin’s thick length. “Need you to…mmm-” 
“Say no more.” Anakin flips you over seamlessly with his cock still anchored inside of you. He hikes your leg over his shoulder and he drills into you at a delicious new angle. His fingers fall to your clit and it sends you soaring. “Fuck,” Anakin breathes. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this tight cunt from me for three years.” 
“Y-yours now,” you have some brain cells left to respond. He’s fucking you hard, tits bouncing with each thrust and Anakin just has to have one in his mouth. While he encloses his lips over one of your nipples, he cups your other breast in his hand. He flicks his tongue across your bud and suckles, as if there’s something in there to nourish him. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant. It’s all getting to be too much. The bulge you feel in your belly, the pressure on your clit, Anakin’s warm mouth on your breast. How is he so good at doing so many things? “Ani, I’m close.” 
“I feel it, angel,” Anakin drags his lips across your chest and up your neck until he reaches his final destination. With his lips slotted between yours once more, the roll of his hips is languid and methodical. He’s bringing you along gradually, until your second orgasm washes over you and your limbs are convulsing. You moan into Anakin’s mouth and he swallows it happily. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it?” 
“Mouth!” you manage to say. Anakin loses every single semblance of control he had when you utter that one word. He pulls out of you just as he begins to cum, hot ropes landing on your chest before he’s propped his foot by your head and shoves his cock between your lips. 
Your warm mouth welcomes him greedily as his seed coats your tongue. “Shit,” Anakin grumbles. “Such a little cum slut.” 
You nod submissively, wrapping your hands around the rest of his length, all slippery from your juices. You look so fucking sexy with his dick in your mouth, he can’t even think straight. You on the other hand, you could suck his cock all damn day. You don’t even have to think while you’re doing it, you’ll just let your hands, mouth, and tongue do whatever they want. It isn’t until you feel his dick start to soften do you realize he’s finished releasing his load. 
Anakin breathlessly slumps down on the other side of your couch. You scoop up his cum from your chest and bring it to your mouth. “Don’t. Don’t fucking do that,” Anakin says rather firmly. 
“Why not?” you blink innocently. 
“You know exactly why.” 
You don’t reply. Instead, you crawl over to him, pulling the blanket that’s draped over the back of your couch and lay on top of Anakin’s chest. He lets you get comfortable as you’re sandwiched between his body and the back cushions of your couch. Once you’ve settled, his strong arm holds you against him protectively. He kisses the top of your head gently and mumbles something you can’t understand. 
Neither of you say anything the rest of the night. Anakin isn’t a man of many words, anyway. But when he has something to say, he’ll make sure he gets his point across. The point he made tonight was very clear. 
He loves you.
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(ps i'm not a yankees or mets fan. hayden's sweatshirt just kinda looks like the yankees logo even though i know it's not. okay that's it.)
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throughparisallthroughrome · 3 months ago
Text
"Got the Blues Back in Boston"
Chapter 1
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Pairing: Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader
Description: Leaving behind an incompatible college and profound heartbreak on the Virginia Coast, you find yourself home again in Brookline, Massachusetts. A new opportunity presents itself to you at MIT, joining your brother ben and childhood friends/neighbors, Anakin and Ahsoka. Despite the familiarity, you discover just how much of a difference 2 years away can really make between the people you once considered family.
Warnings:f!reader, angst, jealousy, pining, smut, masturbation, mentions/descriptions of domestic abuse, cursing, drinking/drug usage, academic obsession, general obsession, hardcore partying, frats, general college bullshit
DISCLAIMER!!! READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: I’ve never been in an abusive relationship- I’ve only witnessed them. I’m an aspiring psychology major and have done a lot of research on the topic of domestic abuse/violence. This series deals with this topic HEAVILY, so be warned. 
Word Count: 6.3k A/N: First chapter is up! I'm sorry it took so long, I was really hoping to nail a certain feel and aesthetic with this series, and I really hope that translates. I'm probably gonna post the playlist I listen to while writing this because it does have a lot of influence on the story and everything. Please let me know if you wish to be tagged! Requests and ask box is open, and any/all criticism is welcome! Thank you for reading and supporting me <3
masterlist.
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The drive to Brookline was always a hassle. Whether it was crossing the scary bridge along the coast of Virginia or through New York City—knowing that you’d still never been—it always ached. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been home in two years—and you missed Boston. 
Piled high in the back of your black Ford Focus was the last two years of your life that you could fit. You left behind everything else. 
The forest that encompassed you on I-95 offered a clearer perspective on your situation. As devastating as it had been, your new beginning after high school was not quite what you expected it to be. Hampton was a lovely place; the beaches were excellent, the people friendly, and there was always something to do. Somewhere to go. You made decent money working as a cocktail waitress in a club near your apartment, which is how you met Nick.
Tall, with a handsome face and a charm that was impossible to resist, Nick was the kind of man you couldn't help but be drawn to. He had a gorgeous smile and a body sculpted from the gods. The night you met him, he smooth-talked his way into your bed, introducing himself as Nicholas, saying how he never met someone as beautiful as you. The other waitresses just didn’t compare. And the rest was history. Were you usually the type to sleep with someone on the first date (if you could call it that)? Definitely not. But something about him was so captivating. 
But as the trees passed you by and your grip on your steering wheel tightened, you felt a tear fall onto your shaking hands. What happened to the Nick you loved? What went wrong? Who did you both turn into? Besides, the whole thing going south was your fault- you both knew that. You wanted too much; you let those men flirt, and you were never there for him. You never did what he asked. And you’d never amount to anything. At least, that’s what Nick always told you- and part of you was inclined to believe it. 
Your heart ached at the loss. The 11-hour drive was increasingly painful by the second, only two hours in and not even through the first city. The morning sun beamed in your eye as your car trudged through the wetlands, bathed in its golden hue.1 In the distance, you could make out the skyline of DC, the first city you needed to travel through.
It was nice in DC. You had attended a few times in the past. On one of the many family vacations you took throughout the years, you, your parents, and the Skywalkers had all made a trip together to that specific destination. You intentionally took the longer way home to ensure you remember it all. Besides, the Delaware Peninsula was far from interesting. And you needed the time to think- and probably mentally prepare yourself for what you’d arrive at.
The most exciting part of the trip was Baltimore, Philly, and NYC back to back. Despite sitting in mind-numbing traffic a lot of times, there was always something to look at. And people-watching was always your favorite. You felt your heart hurt, wishing for the opportunities that these cities could bring. As New York City and Hartford disappeared in the rearview mirror, the approaching Boston skyline sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching in your throat. And there was the traffic.
You shakily reached for a cigarette out of your purse as your car came to a stop, breaking your own promise that you wouldn’t smoke in the car you bought. A wide smile spread across your face as you lit the cigarette, your body relaxing as the sweet scent filled the air. Naturally, your mind went straight to Anakin. Whenever you tasted cigarettes, it was impossible not to think of him and the bittersweet moments you shared. After all, he started your bad habit. Once again, your hands shook. Did he ever think about you while you were gone? You were close, but he was also an incredible pain in your ass. And what if he and Padme suddenly got back together? Ahsoka would have told you, right? Maybe. 
She would have told you. 
The familiar streets of Brookline outstretched before you, energetic and alive, instantly flooding your mind with cheerful memories that brought a grin to your face. Your smile widened across your face as you glanced at the familiar sports bar on the corner, reminiscing about the laughter and friendships you developed during your time as a hostess in high school. You turned the corner at the next light, a quiet laugh escaping your lips as the vibrant lights of the movie theater danced before your eyes, eliciting the sweet nostalgia of your god-awful first kiss. You weren’t expecting little Tommy to stick his tongue down your throat in 7th grade. As you approached Emerson Garden, a bittersweet ache tugged at your heart, memories of laughter and familiarity flooding your mind—the memories it held. 
The streetlights flickered as you turned down the most familiar road of all. You bit your lip in anticipation and ignored the urge to light another cigarette right then and there- your mom didn’t need to know about your filthy habit (although she smoked, too). The soft melodies of Radiohead and the laughter echoed from the back porch as you parked in the driveway. Gazing at the house with a smile, you felt a hint of excitement about reclaiming your old room. It had been far too long. 
The porch light turned on, and out ran Ahsoka, not even giving you a chance to turn your car off.
“You motherfucker!” She yelled, opening the car door and throwing her arms around you as you laughed, “It’s been so fucking long!” 
You looked back at her, pulling the beanie off her head and giggling, “Well, don’t tell the others, but I only came back for you.”
“Shut up,” she stands up, pulling you up with her, “Get your ass inside.” You laugh and salute her, following her through the familiar corridors of your house and into the kitchen. 
“Shut the FUCK up. She’s real!” Your mom squealed and quickly set her wine down, embracing you as if you’d be gone in an instant. “Never leave me like that again.” She pulls away and laughs, her tone laced with a hint of seriousness. 
“Never.” You promised, smiling wide before your dad caught your attention, tossing you a beer and shooting a wink in your direction. Although he wasn't typically sentimental, you could tell he missed you. 
“Where are the boys?” you asked, opening the can and drinking the bitter liquid. “Jesus Christ, Miller Lite never gets better, does it?” You squinted your eyes in disgust, giggling at your own reaction. 
“Nope, thought I taught you better than that.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. “They’re outside with Cliegg and Shmi.”
“Okay, sweet, I’ll go say hello.” You motion towards the back door, catching a glimpse of Ben from the back porch. 
“Hey,” He grabs your arm before you can turn to leave. “We missed you. I hope you’re okay. Ahsoka didn’t give us any details, but she said things really went to shit in Hampton. I just want to make sure you know you always have a home here, and we will do what we can to make it better, okay?” 
You nodded and smiled before practically running out the back door, forgetting exactly what you were throwing yourself into. 
“You fucker, you cheated!” Anakin yells, throwing down his cards as Ben takes a swig of his beer and laughs. 
“I’m afraid you just have an awful poker face, Anakin.” He sets his cards down and stands up, turning to face you with a smile. “There she is. About time you graced us with your presence.” 
You give a shrug before embracing Ben tightly, fighting back tears welling up in your eyes. You and Ben were close, and you knew that if he found out what happened, it would devastate him. He and Anakin were always there to keep you safe, but you had a distinct sibling connection. He knew you too well, always able to read your thoughts with uncanny accuracy. 
“You okay?” He pulled away and whispered, searching your sad eyes.
“Yeah, just tired. Long ass drive. Took the long way this time.” You sniffled, and he nodded in response, letting go and pulling a chair out between Anakin and what you assumed was Ahsoka’s chair. With a quiet thank you on your lips, you raised your beer to your mouth and took a long, satisfying gulp, feeling a gentle buzz settle in. 
“So, you’re back.” Anakin avoids eye contact, shuffling the cards before him as Ahsoka stifles a laugh. “Took you long enough.”
“Anakin!” Shmi scolds, noticing how his lips turn into a smirk, “You know he missed you, Y/N. He’s just a sore loser. Ben’s kicked his ass at poker three times now.” 
“Ah,” You nod, a grin spreading across your face, “He just doesn’t want to admit he sucks at poker- OW!” You feel a sudden impact as Anakin's foot forcefully meets the top of yours, causing you to shoot a glare in his direction. His eyes remain fixed on the cards, completely disregarding your look, while he bites down on his lip, trying to contain his amusement. "Sore loser indeed," you mutter under her breath, shaking her head in annoyance as you pick up the cards he handed you.
Of course, the hand was awful. You weren’t sure how you’d make it out of this alive. Family poker nights were a tradition started by your parents and the Skywalkers, which you were all quickly introduced to by your 10th birthday. Once you hit double digits, you were old enough to gamble. Ahsoka was always the best, but you had a habit of making a comeback when people least expected it. And you had a great poker face- Anakin did not. Anakin had a habit of wearing every thought and emotion on his sleeve his entire life. Shmi always swore it would be his downfall- as a child, you thought she was just talking about his downfall at poker. But once you got older, you quickly understood. 
When you discovered his breakup with Padme, you felt like maybe part of you understood. But you never really knew why they broke up. Everyone just told you, “They were better off as friends,” and that was all you knew. Did you want the real story? Absolutely. But part of you was worried about what he’d tell you. You knew better than to get involved in Anakin’s love life, and deep down, a part of you didn’t want to taint the image you had always had of him in your mind.
“Heard you finally got into MIT,” Anakin breaks the silence and your train of thought as he pushes a couple of chips into the center of the table, “Congratulations, although I’ve never heard of anyone going to MIT for an Archeology degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh. 
“There it is.” You giggle as everyone groans, setting their cards down as they fold. 
“There’s what?” He shoots you a disapproving glare.
“You’ve never given me a compliment without an insult. Was waiting for it.” You shrug, laying down your cards, “Full house.” Anakin’s jaw drops as you pull all the chips in your direction. 
“Shit,” He mutters, setting his cards down and laying his head on the table as he groans loudly in annoyance, “Fucking done with this game.”
“And so are we,” Shmi motions Cliegg to stand, “Love you guys. Have fun. Good to have you back, sweetheart.” Shmi kisses your head as Cliegg ruffles your hair before leaving to say goodnight to your parents. 
“Mhm,” you hum, finishing the last of your beer, “and plenty of people go to MIT for archeology. It’s a great school. Besides, it’s about time I joined you all there. And it’s only a 15-minute drive. Speaking of- how’s biochemical engineering going, little one?” With a gentle tap on Ahsoka's knee, she reluctantly tears her gaze away from her phone and responds with an eye roll.
“Fucking awful! I love what I’m studying; the school is incredible- just so much work. I’m so tired. I have time for nothing!” She groans and sinks further into her chair while you, Anakin, and Ben burst into uncontrollable laughter.
“Coming from a recent MIT graduate- it doesn’t get any better. Just wait until you get further into your major- Biochemical Engineering is far from easy.” Ben offers her a smile while you and Anakin continue giggling. 
“And on that note,” You stand up, shaking your empty can, “I’m getting something stronger than this Miller.” 
As you enter the house, a soft purr fills the air as your familiar furry companion, Giz, wraps himself around your legs. You squat down on the floor and feel the warmth of his fur as you pet him, "Missed you, little guy."
“He missed you too.” Your mom leans against the doorway, handing you an obnoxiously full glass of wine. “Had a feeling you came in for this. Are we gonna talk about what happened?” 
You sigh, standing up and rubbing your hands on your thighs. “Now’s not really the time or place, Mom. I just got here. The last thing I wanna think about is that.” You grab the glass out of her hand and attempt to turn around before her hand is on your shoulder, pulling you back. 
“Not so fast.” You turn around and meet her concerned eyes, your hands feeling more sweaty than they did a minute ago. “Y/N, no one just up and leaves their entire life for the past two years suddenly without something major happening. I know you haven’t told anyone- and I know the last thing you want to do is talk about it- but please, for the love of God, talk to someone. We can all tell something is off. You’re not yourself, honey. We care about you- and we’re concerned. As much as I’m so fucking happy to have you back, I know something bad happened, and I want to be there for you.” 
“Mom,” You put your hand on her shoulder, fighting back tears with a smile. “You’re doing enough. I just want to have a good time, focus on being in my dream school, and g-get my life back together, okay?” 
“O-okay,” she nods, her voice laced with apprehension as she turns away from you and back into the kitchen, “Pasta on the stove if you want it!” 
“Thanks!” you yell, shutting the back door behind you and sighing loudly as you plop back into your chair, earning an eyebrow raise from everyone, “I’m here for an hour and she’s already bugging me.”
“She just loves you, Y/N/N.” Ben tries to reason, and you feel your leg bounce. 
“Yeah,” you mumble, fidgeting with the poker chips on the table.
“So,” Anakin leans forward, opening another beer, “You and that guy still together? What was his name.. Harry? James?”
“Nick.” You answer for him, unconsciously biting your lip. “And no, we’re not.” Everyone’s ears suddenly perked up at the confession, the consensus being just how little they knew about your life. 
“Damn, what’d you do?” Anakin jokes, searching your face for a smile, only to be met with nothing.
“Ha. Good one.” You chuckle under your breath, your lips forming into a frown.
As soon as Anakin brought up Nick, you lost interest in the conversation. Nick never met the family; you only told them about him over the phone while you were gone. He had always insisted that your life was meant to be in Hampton with him, where you would create something new together. You didn’t need to return home to your family; if you did, you’d be leaving him all alone. Holidays and significant moments came and went, and all the while, you were stuck at a college you loathed, sharing your life with a man you mistakenly believed was the one.  
During your nights in Hampton, you and Nick would often find yourselves curled up on the couch, indulging in excessive drinking while he introduced you to various illicit substances. You pretended to enjoy soccer and cocaine, drinking more tequila than you needed. Shot after shot, followed by line after line, you barely knew who you were. He constantly told you how pretty you were, how you were made for him, but if you forgot to run to the liquor store that day, he would treat you as if you were dead to him. Nick offered little in return for your support, except for empty assurances that the life you would build together would make it all worthwhile. Nick's behavior took a downward spiral as he began staying late at work and arriving home in a drunken stupor. From that point on, things spiraled out of control. 
And maybe a part of you once loved Nick, but now you felt suffocated in the relationship. And when you tried to bring things up to him, he’d tell you that you were a cheap whore who was only made to be his personal fuck toy. And just like that, the conversation came to an end. The coercion left, and he started to force you to use the drugs he’d use, tell you to skip class, skip tests, skip your job- you were losing yourself within him, and you were worried about the consequences if you didn’t let it happen. He was always a kind, sweet, romantic boy- but he could be so, so evil. 
And you’ll never forget the first time he hit you, the sound of his hand connecting with your skin echoing in your ears. As you sat on the counter, the alcohol made your vision blur, and your head throbbed as if it was about to explode. You were already at your limit, and the last thing you wanted was to do was another line. Your nose was already starting to bleed a little, and he begged and begged for you to keep going- telling you he needed it. He didn’t want to do it alone- you had to do it. As you stubbornly declined once more, a sudden, fiery sting seared across your cheek, causing your nose to finally bleed and droplets of blood to stain your thigh. He apologized profusely, waiting on you hand and foot as he cleaned you up, held your hair as you puked, washed you, and still talked you into sex- but it had happened. You knew you needed to leave, or your life could be at stake. 
“Y/N?” Ben asks, and you break out of your Nick-induced trance with a sharp gasp, your eyes glossy and lips bloody from your nervous tic. 
“I’ll be back.” You stand back up, taking a concerningly long swig from the wine before exiting out the back gate and into the driveway. 
“I’m really concerned about her.” Ben watches you leave and bites his lip. Ahsoka nods along with him. “Listen, as happy as I am to have her back, something’s not right. As her brother, I just- I fear the worst. She’s not herself.” 
“Did you see the way she reacted when you asked about Nick?” Ahsoka whispered, leaning in to closer to the table, “Something had to have happened.”
“Wait.” Anakin says, as he and Ben both turn to face her, their brows furrowed in confusion and concern, “Ahsoka, you don’t know anything either? She’s your best friend.”
“I- I know nothing. And I hate it.” She confesses to the boys, the air growing thick as Anakin uncomfortably shifts in his seat, and Ben sighs.
“I think I’m gonna try to talk to her.” Anakin stands slowly as Ben raises a brow and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes.
“Anakin, no offense, but I doubt she’ll want to talk to you,” Ahsoka murmured, avoiding his scowl. 
“Well,” he pushes the chair behind him, walking towards the gate. “We’ll see!” 
Curled up in the Papasan chair on the porch, you lit the joint between your fingers and watched as the lights in your neighbor's windows turned off. Your thoughts drifted from Nick and onto the childhood you missed dearly—so many snowball fights on the street before you, bike rides, and scraped knees. You remember the Johnsons across the street particularly not liking Anakin, so you and Ahsoka egged their house, only to backfire and get Anakin in trouble. You confessed to doing it, and no one believed you. It had to be Anakin. But for some strange reason, he never cared. He accepted the punishment, mowed their yard for a year, and never brought it up to you, no matter how many times you apologized. And every apology that slipped from between your lips was met with a grin. 
And that time in 7th grade when Ahsoka really got into it with Julie down the street. She never liked Ahsoka and always found a way to get under her skin. However, this time was particularly awful. When you found Ahsoka, she was sobbing on the corner while Julie laughed at her, calling her pathetic, telling her that even her adopted parents didn’t love her and that her big brother wasn’t there to save her now. But you were. You pushed Julie onto the grass so fucking hard, only for her to get back up and swing. Ahsoka screamed for you to stop, but a newfound rage took over as you pounded into Julie’s face. She ended up on the pavement with a broken nose, and you ended the fight with a fractured wrist and grounded for a month (Only a month because your mom found out who you fought and what she said). Anakin was waiting for Ben to return from tennis and heard the commotion. He ran down the street, finding Ahsoka sobbing, Julie on the pavement, bloody and teary, and you sitting on the corner, shaking and clutching your throbbing wrist in your hand. He instantly asked Ahsoka what happened before making his way to you, holding your wrist, picking you up, and taking you and Ahsoka back to your house. Your mom called Julie’s mom and talked about what happened, and fortunately, Julie confessed to everything. And that’s when you found out her parents were going through a nasty divorce, and Julie was starting therapy. And surprisingly, she actually grew into a really decent, respectable person. 
The four of you had always done everything together. You had always been inseparable. And when you left, it tore that apart. You left a hole in Brookline, and you knew it as well as they did. Even though they swore they were happy for you, moving on and doing more, you could see in their eyes that they selfishly did not want you to leave. They didn’t like the years of friendship to be put on hold just like that. And, of course, you felt guilty about it all, but you thought you needed to get out of Brookline. You assumed you wanted something bigger than Boston, bigger than you, bigger than those childhood friends. And two years later, you realize just how naïve you were. Those were your lifelong friends; your life was in Boston, and your dream school was there, too. You missed them more than you could ever envision, and the guilt ate at you every single fucking day. And you wished that 19-year-old you had just stayed. Things would be so much simpler if you had stayed. You let some pathetic man in Hampton tell you that it was just you and him- forever. And you knew deep down your 19-year-old naive self didn’t believe a fucking word he said- she just wished she did.  
“Oh, that’s not a cigarette.” Your eyes flicker up from the street and towards a drunken Anakin leaning against the patio rail in front of you. His lips were curled into a mischievous smile, his hair curly and messy. 
“No,” You lean forward, handing him the joint, “No, it’s not.” 
“So,” He took a quick draw from the joint, flicking it against the deck railing as he looked back at you and smiled, “You just got here, and you’re already running from us? What’s up with that?” 
You scoff, snatching the joint from him and leaning back in the chair. 
“Just wanted some alone time, is all.” You avoid his gaze, and it’s his turn to scoff, plopping himself next to you in the chair. 
“Yeah, because you’ve been so fond of that your entire life. I don’t believe you.” 
“And? Never said I cared that you did.” You quickly retorted, earning an eyebrow raise and a smirk. 
“Relax,” he said, snatching the joint back from you and holding it hostage. “Talk to me. It’s just us.” His hand met yours; his gaze was intense and empathetic. 
You weren’t sure why you wanted to tell him. It was probably the weed mixed with a bit of liquid courage, but in that moment, you needed to get it out. He was so welcoming, holding your hand and offering you the comfort you needed in that moment. Was it pure manipulation? Possibly. But you knew Anakin loved you just as much as you loved him, and you knew you could trust him. He had kept your secrets before, so what’s another one? However, none of those other secrets typically included an abusive relationship; it was mainly about Ben and Ahsoka. You gripped his hand back, watching his eyes soften and his lips curve into a small smile.
“Just-” You started, dropping your voice into a low murmur, “Please don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.” He looked into your eyes like he would die to protect your secret. That was precisely what you needed to see. 
“Nick- uh- sorry,” You sniffled, rubbing your eyes as you searched for the right words. “He- uh- he hurt me—a lot. I barely made it out of that relationship in one piece. I think my breaking point was when I asked him to visit for your grandma’s funeral, and he knocked me out. I woke up in my bathtub, my face covered in my blood, and he was gone. I applied to MIT that morning. The day after I got in, I packed everything I could and left. He’s blocked on everything, and he hasn’t attempted to reach out in any sort of way. Anakin- I don’t know what would have happened to me if I didn’t leave.”
Your eyes met Anakin’s glossy ones as your hands shook underneath his touch. He crooked his head to the side, bringing you in for a much-needed hug. You let yourself cry softly in his arms, feeling his shaky hands rub in slow motions up and down your back, his other hand stroking the top of your scalp.
 But when he looked back at you, the softness in his gaze had disappeared. His fists clenched at his side, his eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lip in frustration. 
“A-Anakin?” 
“Y/N, why didn’t you tell anybody? We would’ve come to help! We could have put that piece of shit in jail by now!” He stands up abruptly, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing deeply. 
“I-I’m sorry- I-” You stutter, your mind racing as he paces before you. His eyes meet yours, and he points at you as your heartbeat accelerates.
“Y/N, I swear to god- I’m gonna kill that motherfucker. He’s fucking dead. I don’t care what hap-” He stops momentarily, cut off by your sobs from the chair. Fuck. He’s yelling at a domestic violence victim- no- he’s yelling at you. What a fucking asshole. 
“HeyHeyHeyHey-” He’s quickly on his knees in front of you, shushing and brushing your hair out of your face, “I’m so fucking sorry- that was so selfish of me to do. I shouldn’t have said or done any of that. You opened up to me, and I yelled at you.. that will never happen again, okay? Why don’t we get you to bed?” He held your hands in his, searching your red eyes for an answer as you quickly nodded. 
“Okay, I’m gonna go say goodnight to everyone, you just hold tight here. Sound good?” You nodded once again, and he giggled. “Words, sweetheart. I need you to say something.”
“That’s what I want, Ani. Bed.” You mumble out, forming your lips into a sad smile. His heart broke at the sight of you. 
The second the back gate opened back up, Ben and Ahsoka immediately shot out of their chairs at the sight of Anakin. Their interrupted conversation suddenly had no meaning as he entered, taking a quick seat next to them.
“She’s- uh- she’s pretty upset. And fucked up. I’m gonna take her to bed.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair as Ben and Ahsoka looked at him, puzzled. 
“Well, what happened? Is she okay? Does she need help?” Ahsoka frantically broke the silence, asking the questions she and Ben were both thinking. 
“Listen, she’s in rough shape right now. I’m just gonna get her to sleep, and I’ll tell you guys all about it. I don’t even know if she’s done talking about it. I’ll be right back.” 
“Y/N?” He calls out your name as he steps on the other side of the gate, jogging up the front porch to see you passed out in the chair, joint hanging loosely from your fingers. 
Amused, he grabs the roach from your fingers and casually tosses it off the porch, letting out a small laugh. Clearly, you didn't waste any time before drifting off to sleep. All the crying and weed must have done something. As he crouches down beside you, he tenderly brushes your hair, his eyes filled with adoration as he looks at your sleeping figure. 
“I’m so sorry about everything,” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sighing softly, “I know you’re going to hate me for what I’m gonna do. Just please know it’s in your best interest. I care about you so much.” He bites his lip in thought, his eyes searching your figure.
As he rises to his feet, he effortlessly swipes your phone and tucks it away, his eyes briefly glancing at your water bottle. With a tender gesture, he reaches his arms beneath you, drawing you close to his chest and ensuring the blanket envelops you snugly as he lifts you from the chair. Your head is cradled against his chest, his hand wrapped around your waist and under your knees. 
Anakin carried you gently up the stairs of your house, each step creaking under the weight of his feet. Passing through the familiar corridors, he reached your bedroom door and pushed it open, immediately being overwhelmed by the alluring scent of your space. As he laid you down on your bed, he couldn't help but notice how little the room had changed since you left, the same photos on the walls and the same worn-out rug. Your mom kept everything intact, probably hoping you’d come back eventually. He filled your water bottle, plugged your phone in, left some medicine on your nightstand, and tucked you in tightly. Just as he turned on the fan and kissed your forehead goodnight, your eyes fluttered open to meet with his, and you gave him a sleepy smile. 
“Ani?” You mumbled, watching as his smile grew above you. 
“Hey, sweetheart, feeling pretty sleepy, huh?” 
“Mhm,” You stretched your arms out momentarily as you yawned. “I’m sorry I dropped all of that on you earlier. And I’m just- I’m sorry about it all. I feel so-”
“Y/N,” He gets on his knees next to you, the warmth in his eyes matching the tender smile on his lips, “You don’t need to apologize for a thing. I’m always here. And so are Ben and Ahsoka. We got you. You take as much time as you need to process, recover, and do whatever you need to, okay? It’s about you, Y/N/N, don’t worry about us.” You giggle and nod at his words, your eyes attempting to flutter shut. He laughs at your exhaustion, ruffling up the hair on your head. “Sleep well, okay? I’ll be here if you need me.” 
He closes your door and leans against the door frame, exhaling heavily as he tries to make sense of everything that happened throughout the night. How could someone be so fucking despicable to do this to you? His girl. His fists clenched tightly at his waist, his eyes burning with rage as he vividly imagined the torment you endured. He tried not to let his mind go there. He really did. Resting against your bedroom door, vivid visions of you, covered in blood and pleading for help, overwhelmed him, plunging him into a downward spiral. And in a moment of weakness, he did exactly what he promised he wouldn’t do.
“She was abused. Badly.”
“WHAT?”
Ben and Ahsoka jump from their seats on the porch, rushing towards Anakin as he angrily makes his way from the house onto the deck. 
“That fucking piece of shit!” Ben shouts, punching his fist against the side of the house while Ahsoka tries to calm Anakin down, asking him for more details.
“Okay, Anakin, I need you to give me more than just ‘abused.’ I know you have details.” Ahsoka sputtered while she held the sides of his arms, guiding him over to the table to sit down while Ben paced behind them. 
“It was that asshole she was dating for the past two years- Nick. The one we conveniently never met, which I’m sure was on purpose. She didn’t tell me much other than that if she didn’t leave when she did, she could’ve- well- she- it just wouldn’t have ended well.”
Anakin's words hung in the air, creating a thick silence that was almost tangible with tension. Anakin's throat tightened as he locked eyes with Ben and Ahsoka, their glossy gazes reflecting their shared pain. Ben found a spot at the table, deep in thought, as he absentmindedly stroked his chin, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Ahsoka carefully finished the last of her wine, the cling! of it ringing out as the glass met the table one last time.  
“Well-” Ben tried to start, cut off by his sudden sobs. He pushed his head on the table, covering his face from Ahsoka and Anakin as he attempted to take deep breaths, processing the information he had just learned. In an effort to hold back tears, Anakin bit his lip, his hand trembling as he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. As she silently wept, Ahsoka soothingly rubbed Ben's back, hoping to ease his pain.
“I just- I should have known.” She mumbled, picking the cat's hair off of the back of Ben’s sweater. 
“There’s no way you could’ve, Snips.” 
“It’s just that- I thought it was odd when she suddenly asked me to pick up her cat. Saying she couldn’t take care of him and that it was an emergency. I never even met Nick, and she wouldn’t let me stay at the apartment long. I hardly saw her. So many fucking red flags..” she trailed off, feeling her head hurt at the thought. 
“Ahsoka, it’s okay.” Ben sniffled, lifting his head off the table as his red eyes met Anakin’s. “There is no one at fault here other than Nick.”
"Exactly," Anakin paused momentarily at his comment, his eyes widening. “Guys, she made me promise I wouldn’t tell you. Considering everything, I think we should wait until she opens up. Even though it hurts, the last thing I’d want to do is hurt her anymore.”
“Yeah,” Ben whispers, and Ahsoka nods, holding onto each other as they try to calm down.  
“We should get to bed, guys. It’s 3:30.” Anakin mumbles as he stands up and stretches, offering his hand to Ahsoka. “We’ll see you soon, Ben. Get some rest.”
As he lay in bed, Anakin’s mind wandered off to you. How could it not? Besides being your best friend, he always looked for more in you. The knowledge weighed heavily on him, and he despised himself because of it. To him, you were his world, his everything. Always. And hearing/seeing how hurt you were? It fucking destroyed him. So, he let himself cry. He allowed himself to feel those emotions for you, and he always had buried them deep down. Instead, he buried his face in his pillow and soaked it with his tears. His admiration for you would never falter, and neither would his protectiveness. He felt as if a part of him failed, and as a result, his guard was down. He felt the desire to love you and keep you safe increased, knowing that getting the chance to do so may destroy him inside and out.
And it didn’t help that you lost your virginities to each other. Sharing such a unique, intimate moment with the person he always knew was the one, well, that just really fucked things. Literally. There wasn't a moment when he wasn't haunted by the memories of that night; it was a constant presence in his mind. And then he got with Padme, and you left for Virginia, and things got so lost and confused, and life moved on. You moved on. He tried to. But he searched for you in everyone and everything. Padme knew it, he knew it, fuck, his mother probably knew it! He’s just thankful Ben doesn’t know it. As much as he hated to say it, Anakin knew he would have gone back in time to do anything to change that moment. Because now you’re here, and his feelings have only intensified. Feelings that should have left a long, long time ago. And yet, as he cried himself to sleep, he continued to dream of you, just like every night before.
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Please let me know if you wish to be tagged!
Series tags: @w0rsh1psells @ursogorgeous13 @tommyvelvet @mistress-amidala @queenofnigthdarkness @nikkissecretlibrary @doblasftcisco @ann4zw @catachlysmicjedi @googie-jeon @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo @anakinstwinklebunny
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goldenroutledge · 4 months ago
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champagne problems
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pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
word count: 3.2k
summary: you catch lando’s eye at an art auction in monaco, so he challenges you to a friendly competition for one of the paintings. little does he know, you’d stop at nothing to get it. inspired by this request.
warnings: swearing, alcohol, illegal things vaguely mentioned, gossip girl au
a/n: thank you to @monzaaasharl for letting me use the request! based on events from gossip girl s6 ep6 but can be read without seeing the show! it is mentioned the reader is chuck’s stepsister, à la serena van der woodsen 🥂
lando norris masterlist
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The reception was glamorous. Everything you would expect at an event like this, in a place of this caliber. Monaco was one of a kind that way; tuxedos were tailored to perfection and designer gowns flooded the room. The people adorning them certainly had the bank accounts to match.
For you, these scenes and crowds weren’t out of the ordinary. You’d been a part of them for many years at home in New York City. Sometimes alongside your mother at parties where her husband, and one of the city’s richest businessmen, commanded everyone’s attention.
The name Bart Bass spoke for itself, for better and for worse. You could only be so lucky that you were a teenager when your mother married him years ago.
Your step brother Chuck was not as lucky, being the one and only son of Bart’s. Under the weight of the Bass name, he could only hope to change the legacy that had been left for him. One that wasn’t tainted by duplicity and deceit.
If you could help him change that even a little bit, you would. It wasn’t a lonely effort either. Your entire friend group seemed to stick together in defining moments like these. When Chuck discovered a trail that would lead to the exposure of his father’s illegal business practices, there was no hesitation in your offer to help.
Bart often got away with any and everything, always facing little to no consequences for his wrongdoings. Paying off associates or officials using tens of millions in hush money was hardly a dent in the bank to someone like him.
Tonight, all of that could change. The justice you were looking for was right here in Monaco; a thin piece of microfilm enclosed in the back of a 1998 Richard Phillips painting being auctioned off tonight. Titled— The Spectrum.
On the film were numbers, nearly too small to see with the naked eye, that directly incriminate Bart in an illegal business deal. With a favorable social status and a hefty trust fund in your name, your logic tells you that it’s crazy to get wrapped up in all this knowing that if Bart finds out, he would likely turn your mother against you.
But your conscience reminds you just how many lies and just how much loss your family has endured at the hands of Bart Bass.
The soft touch of Nate’s hand on your shoulder interrupts your daydreamy stare into a flute of champagne. He’s out of breath and looks slightly panicked.
“Bart knows we’re here for the painting.”
“What?!”
“But Chuck’s following Bart’s guys, he won’t let them get near it.”
“The bidding starts in 10 minutes!”
“He won’t get here in time, it’s up to us. Think you can handle it?”
You give your best friend a knowing smirk, one that he returns.
“I know I can. These people may be rich as hell but Chuck would give his right arm for that microfilm. I won’t back down to anyone who bids on it.”
Your eyes flicker over to the painting, before they lock with a pair of blue ones across the gallery. He offers a subtle smile before turning his attention back to the painting. Whoever he was, he seemed to be a little too interested in the piece for your liking.
In a room full of deep pockets you knew you wouldn’t win a bidding war without a fight, but the challenge made it all the more entertaining. You turned to Nate, whose phone started ringing with a call from Chuck.
His eyes searched yours for reassurance and promise that you’d execute the plan.
You smiled at him, embracing your inner confidence mixed with a little liquid courage. “Answer him, I’ll take care of this.”
He nods, chuckling slightly as he follows your line of sight to the man admiring the painting. “Good luck.”
-
Lando fixated on the beautiful hues of The Spectrum. Though he can admit that the art doesn’t hold a candle to the woman that caught his eye across the room. He couldn’t tell if he was blinded by her smile or the sparkle of her dress, catching subtle glimpses of her throughout the evening.
His trance was broken by the soft clicks of stilettos inching closer and closer towards him, though the sounds were muffled over chattering guests and classical music.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? No wonder you’ve had your eyes on it all night.”
Lando’s head turned towards the woman’s voice, cheeks warming as he recognized you instantly. He wondered if you had been noticing him too, or at least knew who he was. Lando smirks and takes a subtle step closer to you.
If you weren’t about to psych him out of bidding on the painting, you’d be enamored by the scent of his cologne.
“Can’t help it, I’m naturally drawn to beautiful things.”
“Well, I guess you’re in the right place because this room is full of them.”
“That it is.” He teases, holding your eye contact while taking a sip of his drink.
“It’s almost impossible to find something I like best, but I think this one will blend in perfectly with the rest of my collection. Do you collect?”
“Art? No, I don’t collect art.”
“Then what is it you collect…?” Your sentence fizzles, realizing you hadn’t exchanged names.
“Lando.”
“Okay Lando, what is it you collect?”
He raises his eyebrows, almost surprised at the question, but chooses to be coy.
“Cars.”
“So then what brings you to an art auction?”
He shrugs in response. “Is it my turn to ask questions…?”
“Y/n.”
“Y/n, what brings you to this auction?”
“I already said, my collection.” You smile, matching his coyness. If he wanted to be short and sweet, two could play at that game.
“Which is…?”
“In my apartment. In New York.”
“Wow, long way from home. You wouldn’t happen to be in need of someone to show you around, would you?”
“Not really, I’m just here for the painting.”
“Maybe you came for the painting, but I could give you a reason to stay.”
You roll your eyes at his flirty attempts, ultimately brushing him off. “And what reason would that be? A private tour of your car collection?”
“You’d be surprised. What happens if I decide to take home the Richard Phillips myself?”
“You mean if you’re able to outbid me for it?”
“Trust me, I’ll be fine.” Lando assures. “I promise I’ll let you come over and see it.”
“No need. The painting is what brought me here, remember? There’s no way I’m leaving without it.”
Maybe it was the competitor in him, (it probably was), but seeing you get more and more eager about the work of art fueled something inside of him. Sure, the gentlemanly thing to do would be to step aside and let you have it. But where was the fun in that?
“You mean the painting that you only noticed about 5 minutes ago? If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were using it as a cover to come over and talk to me.”
“Forgive me for sounding rude but… who are you?”
“I don’t just collect cars, Y/n. I‘m a Formula One driver.”
Your unimpressed stare makes him feel like an idiot, once he quickly realizes that maybe you really don’t have an ulterior motive.
“In any case, The Spectrum will look much better decorating the halls of my apartment than it will look collecting dust in your bachelor pad. It’s not like you’ll even be at home to enjoy it.”
“We’ll see about that-” Lando continues, before the bid caller starts introducing the pieces of art, the Richard Phillips being the crown jewel of them all.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if we’re ready to begin, I’d like to start the bidding for the Richard Phillips at $500,000.”
Lando raises his bidding paddle immediately, quick reflexes and all. “500.”
“I hear $500,000, going once..”
“520!” You respond, before lowering your voice so only Lando can hear your next statement. “You may be an athlete but I promise this is a race you won’t be winning.”
“Lucky for you, I’m up for the challenge.” He teases, raising his bidding paddle once more. “540!”
“560!” You announce with confidence, eyes shooting daggers at the man beside you.
Another guest made a bid for 570, prompting Lando to bid 580.
“580!” The announcer calls. “Do I have 600?”
“$750,000!” You shout, turning heads.
Oddly enough, your bid inspires others to chime in also. There had to be something about what they wanted to prove to everyone else in the room— there was always someone richer in Monaco.
Lando certainly looks at you in disbelief, wondering how far you’ll take this. “Oh, now you’re just showing off. You only want the damn thing because I do anyway!”
“Oh please, don’t flatter yourself. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“Then why do you want it so bad?”
“It would be a nice treat for my family and I, that’s all.” Your eyes flicker around the room to the other bidding paddles, the number climbing quickly. “What’s it to you? Why do you want it so bad?”
Lando shrugs, raising his paddle to bid $920,000. “It’s for a good cause.”
“920… Going once, going twice…”
“1 million dollars!” You shout, looking around the room, daring anyone to exceed your bid.
Lando’s mouth hangs open and for a second he almost wants to challenge it.
But then he imagines the heart attack it would likely give his business manager to see a surprise million-dollar charge to his account.
“What?” You question him insincerely. “It’s for a good cause.”
“1 million dollars! Going once, going twice…. Sold to the lady in silver!”
You smile graciously at the applause from the crowd. After all, this was a victory for the charity of the evening. Little did they know you just secured a victory of your own.
Lando sighs. “Well, congratulations. I’m sure your husband will be thrilled.”
“Husband? What are you talking about?”
“That man you’ve been whispering with all night. You said the painting was for your family?”
“Who, Nate?” Your face scrunches up in perplexity, following Lando’s line of sight towards the back of the room where Nate is standing with Chuck, clapping and beaming with pride that everything went according to plan, the painting is yours now.
“Yeah, whatever his name is.”
“We’ve been friends since we were kids. And if you must know, I’m not married.”
Lando chuckles, part amused and part embarrassed that he jumped to conclusions. He reminds himself that he needs to stop doing that.
“And he didn’t send you over here to flirt with me in hopes that I wouldn’t outbid you?”
“He didn’t put me up to anything, I am way above those childish antics! And I’d hardly call any of that flirting.”
“Whatever it was, I guess it worked, didn’t it?”
You smile at him, contemplating your answer. “I suppose. If it makes you feel any better, I promise I have only good intentions.”
“Well either way, I still have to find my mum a new birthday present.” He grumbles, taking a swig of his drink.
Your smile falters and you give his arm a nudge, taken aback by his confession. “The painting was for your mother? Why didn’t you say that?!”
“I’m not sure if anyone’s ever told you this, Y/n, but you’re not that easy to negotiate with.”
“I’ve been told. But for the record, neither are you.”
“If it were me, I wouldn’t have given up the painting. So I don’t hold it against you.” Lando concedes, but starts eyeing you suspiciously. “Although… I still don’t know your motive. I mean all of that drama simply for your art collection which is 4,000 miles across the Atlantic? I don’t believe it. So tell me, Y/n, what’s your motive?”
Lando chuckles at the stone cold stare you give him in return. “It’s only fair, Y/n, I told you mine.”
“Are we in first grade or something?”
By the look he’s giving you, it’s obvious that he’s actually dead serious.
At which you sigh, surrendering to the man’s relentless attempts to get a real answer out of you. Moments prior you did the same to him, except it’s not as fun when the tables are turned.
“The Richard Phillips painting, it belongs to my mother.”
Lando’s eyes widen in disbelief, like a deer in headlights. “You bid a million dollars on a painting you might as well already own?! Fucking hell, why on Earth woul-”
Abruptly, you take him by the arm and escort him away from the main crowd, an action that shocks you both.
But the last thing you needed was for him to blabber out all of your secrets, draw attention to you both and blow your cover in this crowded room.
“Long story short, my stepfather has been involved in some…not exactly legal business practices. And I’m not talking about some common white collar crimes, he makes Madoff look like a fucking Saint. He’s been hiding his proof in the back of that Richard Phillips painting, sort of in plain sight to throw the scent off. My mom’s had that painting in the apartment as long as I’ve been alive. By the time I found out the evidence was in there she had already sold it. My stepbrother tracked it down, and here I am.”
Lando looks like he doesn’t know what to say, equal parts confused and concerned for what kind of danger you might be in or just how deep this all goes.
“There’s not enough time in the world to explain everything but just know that he’s hurt a lot of people, not only my family and I. He deserves what’s coming to him and it starts with what’s hidden behind that painting.”
His heart softens at the look of purpose and conviction in your eyes, understanding that whatever this is, it’s bigger than you and him.
“Well if he’s facing your wrath, I should probably be wishing him the best of luck. Whatever the consequences to his actions, the U.S. government is no match for you.”
At that you let out a laugh, one that’s genuine and full of heart. You can’t even remember the last time someone made you laugh like that, and it was refreshing.
“That’s very sweet, Lando, even if you didn’t intend it that way. I just hope I’m not going to all of this trouble for nothing. I don’t want it to be in vain.”
“It won’t be, you’ll see.”
“How could you be so sure?”
“Just a hunch.” He muses sarcastically, feigning uncertainty.
For the first time tonight you feel appreciative towards him, to the kindness and listening ear he’s giving you, a total stranger until about 20 minutes ago.
The irony wasn’t lost on you that while he was bidding on the art for a gift to his mother, you were bidding on it to repossess evidence that would send your stepfather to prison for the rest of his life, likely devastating your own mother in the process.
“Let me help with your mother’s birthday gift. Please?”
He raises his eyebrows at your sudden offer, wondering how or why you would be interested.
“You don’t need to do that. Aren’t you a little busy with your own family?”
“Somewhat. That doesn’t mean I can’t make it up to you.”
“You won the painting fair and square, Y/n.”
“Please?” You nearly begged, widening your eyes.
Lando sighs jokingly as a way of admitting defeat. “We really are in first grade.”
“See, I knew you’d come around! Art Basel will be in Miami soon, I’ll stay for the whole week if I have to. Surely I can find some amazing pieces for your mother there, I might even find another Richard Phillips painting!”
“I don’t dare underestimate you again.” He quips, raising his glass to you. “I have no doubt that we will find something.”
“We?”
“I’m a Formula One driver, remember? We’ve been racing in Miami for a couple years now, I hope you’re prepared to stay there for the weekend.”
You roll your eyes at his bargain, of course he already has plans laid out for you. “You’re as persuasive as you are slick, Lando.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s not a no.”
“You’re as sharp as you are stubborn, Y/n.”
“You haven’t seen the worst of me yet.”
He laughs, impressed at how you manage to stay one step ahead of his banter. “Just promise me one thing?”
You humor him with an unsure look, knowing you would accept his terms anyway. “What’s that?”
“Don’t get into anymore bidding wars with handsome strangers.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because it’s our thing.”
“Okay, Lando. I think I can agree to that.” You muse, holding out your pinky for him, the two of you subconsciously moving closer into each other’s space. “From here on out, bidding wars will be our thing.”
Lando accepts, but decides to challenge you further. “I’m no lawyer, but I don’t think pinky promises are binding, Y/n.”
You nod slowly in acknowledgement, realizing just how close the two of you are standing now, and how intensely he seems to be focusing on the beautiful features of yours he’s had yet to see up close.
Now that you think of it, you haven’t had a chance to take a good look at him either. His eyes are as captivating as his smart aleck wit that’s been keeping you on your toes from the moment you two spoke.
And in a split second, you forget all that was stopping you from noticing what drew you in to Lando to begin with. Your lips collide with his, the stress and tension you’ve been carrying melting away into the kiss, and he’s certainly eager enough to take it on for you.
Mesmerized by each other, you then forget how the hell you both ended up here, tucked away in a dark room from the art you were just competing for.
Until you do remember that you are still proving a point after all, breaking away from the kiss just a moment too soon and smirking in his face.
“How’s that for binding, Lando?”
He appears amazed, out of breath and slightly shocked that you went there. You, however, were carrying on with ease, your thumb brushing over his lips at the faint stain of your lipstick on him.
“Close enough.” Lando coaxes, this time bringing his thumb to brush against your cheek delicately.
His fingertips may as well have been on fire by the way his touch made you feel red hot, and yours to him. Instead of backing away from the burn, Lando leaned in, giving into temptation and meeting your lips once again.
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💌: this is my first time writing for lando! likes, reblogs, comments & feedback is greatly appreciated! thanks for reading <3
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grimesproperty · 2 months ago
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“ FRIENDS “
where you're a new kook at the boneyard. the pogues end up finding you all alone, especially a blonde-blue-eyed hot-tempered one.
jj maybank x reader
You're a kook, new to the outer banks, checking out the boneyard--littered with Pogues, Kooks, and tourons alike-- for the first time.
In the distance, JJ's busy surfing and hanging out with his friends, maneuvering along the crashing waves like it's second nature to him. Rays of the afternoon sun high in the sky are reflected onto the shimmering water, and the scent of seawater wafting by.
"Dude, check it out,' John B says to him, nodding over his shoulder in your direction. "A newbie."
"Looks like a tourist," Pope mutters. "What makes you so sure?" Sarah asks.
"Tourons always look lost. That's how you can tell them apart from Kooks and Pogues,' Pope responds crossing his arms. Meanwhile, JJ's gaze flicked over where you stood, his curiosity piqued as he observed you with a tilted head.
You were sitting on the sand, lying on top of your towel, a book in your hands and your bag placed next to you.
JJ watches you briefly, intrigued by your composure as you sit quietly, reading your book. He can't help but be intrigued by your arrival. "Hey, I'm gonna greet the new fish," He suddenly speaks up.
"Be careful," Kiara murmurs, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "I'll be on my best behavior," He replied with a cheeky grin.
Without wasting any more time, JJ stands up, patting the excess sand from his shorts. He approached with a casual air about him, his blue gaze fixed on you as he saunters up until he was just a few feet away from where you are sitting, hands in his pockets.
"Hey, you're new around, yeah?" He says conversationally, his eyes raking over you, "First time at the boneyard?" He stops a couple feet from you, a charming smile on his face.
You look up from your book, JJ's smile grows when you look up, his gaze taking in your facial features and your choice of clothes, mentally deducing whether you were a pogue, kook, or touron.
"Is it that obvious?" You said to him, jj cocks his head to the side, a flicker of humor in his eyes as he says, "Well you're not a kook, I can tell you that much. You look too... how'd I describe it.... too authentic. Which leads me to think you are either a pogue or a touron."
"Neither?" You answered confusingly, jj quirked an eyebrow at your response, perplexed by your answer. He glances around at his friends, who watch your conversation with curiosity and interest before looking back at you.
"Neither?" he questions, skepticism lacing his voice. "So, what are you then? A lost soul?"
"Nah, just moved here from New York." You replied to him with a small smile.
JJ let out a low whistle, a smirk on his lips. "From New York? What, did you get bored of the East Coast and decide to check out the south instead?"
You let out a laugh, and said to him "It's not so fun over there." JJ hums in response, shoving his hands in his short pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.
"I can't admit it's any better here," He admits with a shrug, his smile growing sly, "Although it's bound to be with me and my friends around."
"It doesn't seem all too bad, even though I just moved here I don't really know anybody besides my family." You say to him, JJ's expression softens a little at your words, his eyes flickering with recognition--
"Yeah, that can't feel too great," he says, crossing his arms, "but what kind of person would I be if I let a new face be lonely around here?"
You shrugged at him with a smile. JJ returns your smile with a grin of his own, amused by your nonchalance to his remark. He glances at his friends, their eyes still on the two of you.
"Why don't you join us then?" He suggests, "I'm JJ by the way, and I can guarantee there's never a dull moment with the Pogues."
"I'm Y/n, it's nice to meet you JJ, short for??" You questioned, JJ chuckled at your question, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. "Short for Jackson," He answers his smile still in place. "But JJ's more badass than Jackson, don't ya think?"
"Agreed." You replied, "You got a decent taste," he comments, his eyes sparkling with approval. "So, what do you say Y/n? Ready to meet the crew?"
"Are you sure they won't mind me you know..." You said looking over to where the group of pogues were standing in the water with their surfboards.
"Nah, they won't mind," He reassures you, waving a hand. "They'd be idiots if they did anyway," He gestures towards the group with a nudge of his head. "Come on, let's go. I'll introduce ya."
"Alright, I guess..." You said as you got up.
--
Over time, you become an integral part of the pogue group, spending countless hours laughing, joking, and exploring the beaches with them. You feel a strong bond with each one of them, and they consider you one of their own now. They tell you everything and include you in all their plans and shenanigans.
Meanwhile, you had gotten a job at the wreck which has become a second home to you. You've made good friends with everyone there, including regular customers.
Throughout your time as Pogue, you particularly grew close to jj. The two of you quickly became best friends, spending more and more time together, and sharing secrets and confiding in each other.
Behind the scenes, you harbored secret feelings for him, though you kept it to yourself, not wanting to ruin the strong friendship you'd built.
Jj on the other hand, seemed blissfully unaware of your hidden feelings, his actions consistently sending mixed signals. His casual touches which seemed intimate, the way he always found excuses to be near you, the subtle flirting--
all of it seemed genuine and unintentional, yet it only served to confuse your emotions even more.
Every time he touched you, smiled at you or made flirty comments, your heart would pound, and butterflies would flutter in your stomach, but you tried your best to keep your cool and maintain the friendship. As much as you wanted to show some concrete interest, you also feared rejection.
You found yourself caught in a constant battle between holding on to the precious friendship you shared and securely hoping for it to turn into something more.
Things then suddenly came to a halt when you found yourself in a new relationship with a kook. Despite your lingering feelings for jj, you chose to move on and give this new relationship a chance.
However, JJ wasn't thrilled about it. He made it clear he didn't approve of your kook boyfriend, but he never outright said why.
As you began dating him, you noticed a growing distance between you and JJ. He wasn't as friendly or casual with you anymore, and he often seemed grumpy and irritable around you.
This shift in your JJ's behavior only confused and hurt you even more. You had no idea why he was acting this way, and you missed the closeness and comfort you two once shared. As you grew distant from jj, your feelings resurfaced, and your new relationship--
paled in comparison to what you felt for him. You couldn't help but wonder if there was more to JJ's reaction than he was letting on.
--
As you approached the Chateau, the sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful glow over the surroundings. You could see John B and jj on their boat, which was tied up at the dock.
They were both sitting in the boat, deep in conversation. not noticing your arrival yet.
You paused, uncertainty and nervousness coursing through you. You didn't know if it was the right time to approach them. Maybe they needed some time alone, or perhaps you were intruding.
Your mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts, causing brief hesitation. Thats when you finally got the courage and made your way over to them onto the dock. "Hey you two!" you called out.
John B and jj, in the middle of their conversation, looked up as they heard your voice. John B flashed a friendly smile, while JJ's expression remained stoic and unreadable, his usual grin nowhere in sight.
You couldn't help but feel a pang in your chest as you saw JJ's stoic expression. It was different from his friendly grins and casual banter he greeted you with. A small part of you hoped to see his familiar smile, but alas, it was no where in sight.
"Kiara told me to meet you guys here," You said to them. John B nods gesturing for you to come closer. "Yeah, we were just talking about the party tonight."
Meanwhile, JJ remains a bit distant, his arms crossed and his expression still lacking the usual warmth.
"She's not here yet?" You asked John b, he shook his head, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. "No, she said she was on her way. You know she's always late."
You made an 'oh, I know.' expression on your face, "yeah, you're right about that," you said agreeing. John B chuckles, clearly used to Kiara's tardiness by now, but JJ remains quiet. He seems a bit withdrawn, his hands clenching the edge of the boat slightly.
"So boneyard tonight, huh?" you said trying to make conversation. John b nods, his eyes looking out over the water.
"yeah, most likely, just the usual crew and other people," John B says, jj remains silent, but there's a tinge of irritation in his eyes. He seems uncomfortable with this conversation for some reason.
"Your boyfriend gonna be there tonight with his slick back and kook friends?" John B teased you, his comment about your boyfriend only seems to further irritate jj and he scowls slightly.
You can see his grip on the edge of the boat tighten, his knuckles turning white. "I don't know, I haven't talked to him today, " you replied to John B tearing your gaze away from JJ.
"Yeah, he's probably got more important things to do with fellow kooks, " John B comments, clearly still enjoying teasing you.
JJ lets out a scoff, his irriation growing, he muttered under his breath, "More like he's too busy stroking his ego."
John B grins at jj’s comment, finding it amusing, but you can see it only serves to irritate JJ even more. A tense silence hangs heavily in the air, the awkwardness between you and JJ almost palpable.
You roll your eyes at JJ's attitude, "Hey John B can you give us a minute to talk real quick?" you say turning to him. John B raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tension between you and JJ for a moment before nodding.
"Yeah, sure I'll go check on Pope and Sarah." He says before he gets up from the boat and walks away, leaving you alone with JJ. Now you two sitting alone on the boat, jj still has his arms crossed and his face expressionless.
The silence between you two becomes even more intense as the sun continues to sink below the horizon.
You finally speak up, "Okay. Im getting sick of this shit, Seriously what's your problem?!" you say your voice coming out harsher than you expected.
JJ's eyes snap up to meet yours, He looks surprised by your confrontational tone, but after a moment, he lets out a scoff. "What, I'm not allowed to have a problem now?"
"Not if you don't communicate what your deal is with me, then yes!" You snap back at him, JJ's expression hardens further, defensiveness seeping into his voice-
"You're the one to talk about communication. You've been avoiding me since you got that kook boyfriend of yours."
You let out a disbeliefed laugh, "Are you serious right now?" you said to him. JJ's expression remains unchanged, his irritation flaring up. "Yeah, I'm serious. Do you think I haven't noticed how distant you've been since that guy came into the picture? Don't act all innocent now."
You stood up now from where you were sitting, "You've been avoiding me, ever since I started seeing him! You claim you don't like him because he's a kook! But is that really the only reason?!" you paused before finishing what you had to say. "You're my best friend jay. It's not fucking nice seeing you be like this to me for no reason! when I've done nothing but always be fucking there for you!"
You shouted at him, your voice cracking a bit at the raw emotions you let out. "I'm done with this shit." You said as u began to walk off the boat.
JJ watches you as you walk off the boat, his expression wavering between surprise and frustration. He opens his mouth as he wants to say something, but no words come out.
He grips the edge of the boat even tighter, his jaw clenched and knuckles changing colors. The sound of your footsteps grows faint as you walk away, leaving jj alone on the boat.
He lets out a huff, frustrated and conflicted, the boat creaking softly beneath him.
part two here
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queenofthekings · 6 months ago
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𝓢𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓐𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮
Summary: Your story of survival in New York, and the promise you made to Eric.
Author’s note: If I get anything wrong about New York, pls don't yell at me I'm just a Brit who's never been and is relying on the movie and my friends for help lmao. Special think you to @littlexdeaths for helping me with this, without you I probably wouldn't have gotten this finished. And if any of you see a reference to The Enemy, no you don't.
CW: 18+, fluff, descriptions of injuries, horror, spoilers for a quiet place day one.
Word count: 1.5k
Tagging: @espressomunson.
Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.
You’d first met Eric in class, his accent being the first thing you noticed about him. Like him, you’d travelled far to attend law school in New York and both of you would talk frequently after classes about life back home and how different New York was compared to it.
The more you got to know each other, the more romance blossomed between you. He would always wait for you before class and go in with you, sitting beside you just so he could brush his fingers against your hand or whisper something funny into your ear to distract you.
You were expecting him to ask you out on a date, but then the world fell apart.
When it started, you were with a couple of your classmates, just laughing and joking around and then it stopped.
You barely had time to react before something akin to a bomb exploding just down the street caused everyone to start screaming and running all around you. Your lungs and eyes were burning from the smoke, and you could barely see but all you knew was that you needed to run. You had no idea where your friends were, but you hoped they were just hiding somewhere, and you’d see them soon as you darted into a bookstore.
With shaking hands, you got out your phone and dialled Eric’s number, silently praying he’d pick up only it went straight to voicemail. “Eric, it’s me. If you get this, stay where you are; I will come for you, okay? I will come find you. I’m so fucking scared right now, but I hope you’re still out there and you’re safe.”
You wanted to tell him you loved him, but you were too scared to, what if he didn’t feel the same way? God, feelings were hard when the world was ending.
You ended the call and looked around you, trying to find anything of value, picking up a map and a small nightlight you could use as a torch. You weren’t entirely sure where you could go but staying where you were clearly wasn’t an option. Shoving your things into your backpack, you hesitantly walked back out onto the now quiet street, trying your best not to walk on any broken glass or rubble.
Tears began running down your cheeks as you walked, but you didn’t bother wiping them away. You had to come to terms with the idea that you were the only one left; your friends were gone and so was Eric, even if that thought killed you.
As you walked, you wished you could listen to your music to drown out the silence with the occasional bursts of screaming but you knew it was too dangerous, you had to be alert at all times.
As night started to fall, it began pouring with rain and even through your hooded jacket, you were soaked through. You ran towards some shelter as fast as you could, you ended up finding an abandoned church and slipped inside the door as quietly as you could.
Being careful to avoid the puddle from the hole in the roof and the massive hole in the floor, you made your way to one of the pews and finally rested.
Sleep didn’t come easy for you that night, but you managed to get maybe a couple of hours, better than nothing, you supposed.
In the morning, you looked over your map to find the best route to South Street. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you knew it had to be done, even with the number of blisters you’d gotten on your feet from walking so much the day before.
Sliding off your shoes, you assessed the damage and wondered if you should trek out to find a pharmacy to get some band aids but just as you were about to put your shoes back on, you heard a commotion from the hole in the floor, with two people climbing out of it.
You froze as you slowly made your way over towards them, your heart pounding in your ears as you saw Eric. You couldn’t quite believe your eyes as you got down onto your knees next to Eric’s head, a shaky hand on his shoulder.
His eyes opened and instantly locked with yours, slowly getting up to embrace you, even if he was soaking wet. You tried your best not to cry but after everything you’d both been through, you couldn’t hold your emotions back and neither could he; you both held each other and cried quietly.
Eric refused to let you go, and you refused to let him go – even for a second. You slept together wrapped up in each other’s arms that night, finally getting some decent sleep at last.
In the morning, you could tell Sam wasn’t doing well and both you and Eric offered to go get her medication, Eric refusing to let you go. Reluctantly, you allowed him to go but not without giving him a kiss on his cheek, a silent promise that you’d see each other again.
You stayed with Sam, initially playing tic-tac-toe together but eventually getting to talk about each other’s lives before everything went down. Went to school together, had a massive crush on him you wrote on the notebook, causing both of you to laugh silently.
“He talked about you a couple times,” Sam whispered. “Always wanted to find you, now it makes sense why.”
You weren’t entirely sure what that meant, but in your heart you hoped it meant that he felt the same way about you. You kicked yourself for letting him go with just a kiss on the cheek and not a proper love confession, just more reasons to make sure he came back safely with Frodo in tow.
The four of you stayed in the church until the next morning, deciding to venture out to find Patsy’s. You and Eric never let go of each other’s hands, not for a single second.
But when you were out in the open, you’d knocked over an abandoned suitcase, the sound echoing throughout the silent streets. All four of you froze for a moment, before you knew you had to lead the monsters away to give Eric and Sam a chance.
Pressing a kiss to Eric’s lips, you pushed him away and sprinted away in another direction, screaming as much as you could to draw them towards you. It didn’t even fully occur to you that you could die in the process, but as long as Sam, Frodo and Eric made it out, that’s all you cared about.
That was the last time Eric saw you, saving his life. And all he could think about in that moment was how much time he’d wasted not telling you how he felt. And now, you were gone.
By the time Eric got onto the final boat with Frodo, he finally allowed himself to cry, to mourn over the loss of both you and Sam. At least he still had Frodo to comfort him, he closed his eyes and just stopped to listen to the purring cat in his arms until it jumped out of them. His eyes opened instantly, feeling himself on the verge of a panic attack as he looked around for that black and white cat.
Until he saw him at someone’s feet, his eyes filled with tears, clouding his vision but he could tell the person was walking towards him. Wiping away his tears, he got a good look at the person. He blinked several times, not quite believing his eyes.
It was you.
Battered and bruised, a long cut down the left side of your face, but still you.
You smiled once Eric noticed you, the cut across your face contorting a little so it almost looked like a half grimace. You took a seat next to him, handing back Frodo. “Hi,” you said, your voice a little croaky after not being used in what seemed like forever.
“Hey,” he said back, his voice just as croaky. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”
You shook your head, petting Frodo. “I was almost a goner,” you pointed to your face. “But I got saved at the last second, I don’t even remember by who. I thought I’d died, but my face hurt too much. Couldn’t even see out of my left eye at first, but I knew I had to get to here.”
“You still look beautiful,” he moved a stray hair away from your face, not even flinching like most people did at seeing your cut.
You pulled a face, letting out a small hiss in pain as you forgot the cut for a moment before you rested your head on his shoulder. “So what happens now?”
Eric sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I don’t know, but one thing I know for sure; I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head once again. “Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got all I want right here; I have you and we have Frodo.”
“Good. Even then, I’ll follow you wherever you wanna go,” he whispered, capturing your lips with his in a gentle kiss.
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silliewrites · 4 months ago
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If I could save time in a bottle...
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summary: [Platonic Logan Howlett x gn!reader/ famillial dynamics} After the passing of your parent figure some years ago, your friend Wade comes back from a deadly mission with a replica of him. You also soon learn that someone that is definitely not Wade has something to do with the mess that is currently the resting place of that loved one. Finally, you and the ‘worst’ Wolverine find you are on the road to healing together.
wc: 3.4k
warnings: angst and comfort, grief, strong language, brief mention of child death (in worst! Logan's universe), spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine as well as Logan (2017), the bye bye bye scene is treated as grave desecration (which i mean,it is… but reader is naturally gonna see nothing humorous about it)
a/n: This is a bit of a mess because I never write, yet I have so many feelings and thoughts I had to do something with them. Not having seen a platonic fic of this kind anywhere I guess I had to make one. Also..I did some basic research on the general deadpool canon yet..I’m not entirely informed, having not watched deadpool 2… let’s hope for the best
--------------
 You used to be the youngest student in the X mansion back in the day, just a child having mutated under life altering circumstances, the usual. 
 It was Logan who found you. He was your rock during and after the traumatizing event of your mutation, taking you in and placing you in the arms of the X-men and thanks to him they became your family.
 You saw him no less than as a father. Despite his brooding, harsh exterior it was never difficult for you to see that he cared.
 He never shot you down when you knocked on his door in the middle of the night, sobbing after another brutal nightmare. He took you seriously when you talked about your fears and worries. He saved you and helped you stand on your feet more times than you could count.
 Seeing death and bad things happen to your family of mutants always hurt viciously but when Logan died it felt like something you would never get over.
  With your abilities generally under control, you chose to avoid actively partaking in X men work (Not that you refused your assistance, if someone called for you specifically. It had better be very urgent though.)
 So you tried to find a rhythm of what resembled a normal life for the most part, a decent job and some good friends. That was what he would have wanted, no, said he wanted for you.
 You kept ties with Laura too, having bonded over your shared grief, the man having died in her arms after all. She was some years younger than you and you were happy to consider her a good friend, the younger sibling type.
 Some years ago she had disappeared, causing you yet another source of anxiety. Turns out she herself had been banished to the Void. The relief you felt when Wade came back from that limbo hell while managing to bring her back too, was immense. You have never hugged anyone tighter than Laura the day you saw her again.
 Speaking of Wade, through this and that, you had also become acquaintances. He had needed your assistance when he was forming his X force crew and you had hesitantly accepted, making it clear that this would be an one-time thing. 
 He seemed to be a "Wolverine fanboy" in his own words which caused him to bombard you with childish questions about him until you very firmly made him aware of your boundaries. There was a time and place to talk about Logan.
When that shitshow was over with, you did not mind him considering you your friend. Sure, he was a bit much for you, not a huge fan of his 'humor' but seeing him in moderation was not unpleasant…Alright, maybe you did enjoy his company and friendship, it was as simple as that.
  After a chat with him, you learned that the rent in his apartment building was relatively cheap for New York standards, so when it was time to move out of your previous place, that was where you went.
 Then the damn timeline thing happened. You were pretty confused as to how exactly the events played out, not being involved, thankfully. But the crazy fucker did it, he saved the universe from extinction apparently. And not exactly by himself.
 Logan was there. Not your Logan but apparently a variant of him was necessary to pull the mission off.
 And now that version of him was Wade's roommate. Great. Perfect. Definitely something easy for you to process in the days to come.
--------------
 You first saw them after the mission on your way to catch a cab to the airport. It was that time of the trimester when you were to visit him. Bleak yet you longed to see him and speak to him, even if he was resting under the earth. 
 Wade had the decency to explain everything to you once it was decided that Logan’s variant would be staying. He knew that you never really stopped grieving and you appreciated the warning that basically an almost exact replica of your dead father figure would now roam around your earth.
Almost exact, because according to Wade, this Logan was more of a dick, more crude and erratic, apparently rendered by his extra layers of grief and hatred. Partially understandable but you would not accept that as an excuse if he said something cruel in front of you, you would probably introduce him to your interesting mutative abilities. You let Wade know so that he could warn mr stick-up-his-ass. Wade more than happy to accept, still assured you that with the life or death mission being over, Logan was attempting to be more approachable.
 The feelings this new reality brewed in you were..mixed, to say the least.
 You made eye contact with Wade from across the street and of course he shot up from the bench he was sitting on, dropping his half eaten sandwich to the ground, moving his arms vigorously in the air, catching not only your attention but any other passerby's. 
 Even though your stomach turned at having to face the him, you wanted to check up on Wade after all this madness he went through. And on his friend as well, you supposed.
 You looked both ways before passing the street and before you knew it, Wade’s arms wrapped around your neck. You patted his back with one hand, unable to help the choking sounds that left you. 
 “It’s so good to see you, my little honey pumpkin bear!” He squealed excitedly while squeezing the dear life out of you. He really thought he’d never see his friends again, huh.
“Oof, yeah Wade, it’s really nice to see you too, please just-” You broke free of his hold and held an arm’s distance between the two of you. You patted his arm and gave him a small but genuine smile. “Really glad you’re ok. Not that I expected anything le-”
 Your words slowly died out when your gaze met Logan’s. He was sitting on the bench observing the interaction silently. He looked just like you remembered him, minus some differences. Well, obviously he was supposed to be the same person yet..he was not.
 He looked up at you, brows furrowed while his eyes scanned through your face before flashing with what seemed like recognition (Not that you knew what it was he was seeing) He seemed tense and his mouth gaped before he turned his attention to the ground. 
 Wade naturally noticed the uncomfortable tension between the two of you and he decided to chime in quickly.
“Ah, yes this is the Wolverine I had to kidnap to help me with the time ripper bullshit and oh boy, did he deliver!” 
 You kept your eyes on the Variant, forcing yourself into a polite smile (that resembled more of an awkward line) and you extended your hand to him, causing him to lift his gaze at you again.
“Nice to meet you...Logan. Thank you for your help with unscrewing our timeline” You said as pleasantly as you could and he took your hand after a moment of hesitation, shaking it with a gentle firm and a silent nod. 
His presence..It made your stomach turn. Feeling the threat of your vision getting watery, you quickly averted your gaze away from the two, as subtle as you could manage. 
“I..Wade, m’ sorry, would love to sit a bit more but I have to go-”
“Hey wait, tomorrow we’ll be having a get-together to celebrate the un-fuckery of the universe, a partEy if you will! Everyone will be there, Al will be making that terrible casserole you really like also!”
You gave him a melancholic smile, genuinely sad you would not be able to attend. Logan’s variant was back to looking at the ground.
“Ah, I’m sorry, I won’t make it, I’m afraid. I’m going to the airport right now actually, will be off for the next three days. Gotta see someone..”
“Ooooh” Wade whistled while wiggling his brows “and is that someone maybe a super hot sexy mysterious boyfriend? Or girlfriend? Or theyfriend? Or-” 
“Heh, nope. Nothing like that unfortunately.”
“Sure, sure, keep your secrets, you ankle biter, but promise to pass by the apartment once you’re back, we gotta catch up!”
You nodded. “Of course. See you then.” 
 Two days later you found yourself back in New York in a rush, in front of Wade’s apartment door, ready to invent a way that would actually exterminate him.
--------------
 Nothing prepared you for the mess you saw in what was supposed to be Logan’s resting place. 
 The snow had ceased completely. With a simple look his grave was undug and the makeshift X was missing. When you approached, the little fresh snow that had fallen last night was covering various types of debris. Some type of fight had taken place and someone had collected the bodies in a rush yet they did not bother with what you spotted after closer inspection and some digging with your hands. 
 Metallic looking appendages…These were…
You looked inside the open grave. The snow had barely covered the remains in there and it was obvious they were not even half of what they were supposed to be.
 You suppressed the violent urge to vomit. Someone had taken him out, violated his remains and as if in a haste, threw them back in.
 You dug through the snow with bare hands around the grave. A fragment here. A fragment there. The spine. What was left of the cranium. White hot rage.
You called Laura with shaking hands. Offended would be an understatement for how she sounded, as well, unaware of who could have possibly caused this. Why were you even calling her, poor girl was in the void for a while now, what could she possibly do or know?
You hung up with the intention of looking through the situation a bit more and catching her up later.
  While trying to stay calm and focusing all your mental energy on collecting, wiping and gently placing the remains back in the hole, it clicked.
 Wade. 
 From the few words you two had exchanged ever since he was back, you gathered he turned every stone to find “a Wolverine” to assist him. Yet you could not imagine what the everloving fuck would he defile your Wolverine’s grave for and what caused him to spread his bones all over like fucking confetti.
  You would not stand for this. Just because Wade saved the stupid timeline, he did not automatically become immune to the most extraordinary ass whooping of the century. If he had something to do with this, you would not forgive him easily, if at all
--------------
 After taking a deep breath, you rang the bell. Tapping your foot on the ground, you heard some mumbling and shuffling before the door opened.
 Wade made a surprised expression that resembled a caricature.
“Sweet baby cakes! You're back already? Come on in, I was just thinking about starting a gossip girl marathon. Again!”
 Wade's cheerful expression fell almost immediately when you stayed still for a moment too long, not responding.
 Althea did not seem to be home. Good.
 Wade's expression morphed into one of concern.
“Pumpkin, is everything-”
“Wade. Guess where I just came back from.”
You took a slow step forward, dropping you backpack to the floor.
“Erm..a male stripclub full of hot babes?”
“North Dakota.”
“Don't you say! Did North Dakota had any good male strip-” He stopped himself before realization hit him. “And..may I ask..what was it you were doing in North-”
“You know very well what.”
Wade put his hands in front of him defensively and closed the door. “Hey Pumpkin, why don't you just sit so that we can-”
“Shut. Up.” You whispered.
“When I got to his grave, someone had completely messed it up. Signs of fighting around. Do you happen to have anything to do with that?” You said in a dangerously low voice, eyes glued on him.
 Wade, whose mouth formed into an awkward line, clearly not having a reasonably enough excuse to give you.
“Er, you see, um remember when I was looking for a Logan, well I started my search with the OG, you know, just to make sure he was dead dead and unfortunately he was and um then you see err the TVA showed up and um-”
He stopped when you put your hands on your face, squeezing it while a muffled screech of rage escaped you. 
“You motherfucking, with no semblance of decency, insensitive prick. You defiled Logan's remains and used them as a shield, throwing them around like toys? And you have the nerve to come back home and look me in the eye after the fact? To look Laura in the eye? Do you not have any fucking shame? Am I simply an afterthought to you?”
Silence. You could not see through the tears. With shaky hands you pulled out of your pocket a tiny clothed item and you carefully unwrapped the cover to reveal a small metallic fragment.
“You may think everything's a fucking game but that man was my family, and worst part is you know this very damn well! How dare you!”
“You have every right to be angry, just let me-”
 You grabbed the first object you could reach, which was a half empty bottle of liquor and threw it across the room, causing it to smash angrily on the wall of the living room. Wade winced slightly before groaning in frustration.
With that, a bedroom shot open and an alarmed Logan variant made an appearance, claws already out.
“What the fuck is hap-”
 He stopped in his tracks seeing it was just you. He probably had already heard your yelling earlier yet it did not answer any questions about what was going on.
“What the hell, kid?” he said with a subtle hint of alarm.
 You take a step towards him, looking up at his face, paying no mind to his blades that were now retreating back inside. God, how it hurt to stare right into his features. Feeling a wave of nausea, you picked up your bag and turned your back to the two men.
 “Wait, can't we just talk about this?” Wade said
 “No, you ruined my week enough” You mumbled bitterly before exiting his apartment. Week, more like, year.
--------------
 The roof of the building was pretty nice, you always preferred it when you wanted some time to yourself outside the walls of your apartment. You rarely ever saw any other tenant there, especially in the late afternoons.
 This is where you found yourself that night, elbows supported on the railing, observing the busy street from above while sipping on bad beer.
 How you wished he was there right now. How you wished for one more simple moment with him, where you could just be in his presence once again, chat about nonsense or simply sit in comfortable silence next to him. 
 What would he think of you as the person you were trying to become? Would he be proud of you? 
 How you wished he would put his hand on your shoulder comfortingly right now.   
 You missed him. So much.
A high pitched creak came from the direction of the heavy door behind you, causing you to jump a little and instinctively wipe the fresh tears that you just then realized were running down your face.
 “Sorry, kid, did I scare you? They mustn't have oiled this door in fucking ever..” There was Logan, the new one. Whatever entity was reading your thoughts a moment prior must be finding your misery hilarious.
 “Hope I’m not bothering you”
 “No, no. I don’t own the rooftop..” You mumbled softly, turning your attention back on the street, trying to ignore the feeling of clear tension he brought with him. You swore to God, if he was about to make a crass comment..
 He came to stand next to you, mimicking the position of your elbows on the railing. He himself was holding a glass, filled with one most likely alcoholic liquid.
 “That asshole told me everything about the grave thing. If I were you, I would have torn him apart.”
 “I’m sure you already know this isn’t possible by any means”
 Logan huffed. “Oh, believe me, I do. I’ve tried at least three times”
 You gave a noncommittal nod, trying not to focus too much the gruff voice you always found so comforting.
 “...You know..You existed in my timeline too” He mumbled before gulping a generous sip of his drink.
 That made you look up at him, surprised. “I…did?”
“Oh, yes you did. Lively little brat you were.” He said with a laugh you could only describe as melancholic. He said it like it hurt.
“You went through so much for a child. And you did cry quite often ‘cause of it, yet you were still so..” He seized, taking a heavy breath and emptying his glass. “So full of life. A good kid.” The city lights reflecting on his eyes, making it easier for you to see how watery they were.
“I..assume I…”
You were interrupted by another one of those devastating low laughs that made your heart ache.
“Yeah. You were among them. Those fuckers did not even spare a fucking child. I was the one who got you with the X-men and it ended in..” He hissed through his teeth and half closed mouth. He took a moment to collect himself and breathed out.
“I’m so sorry, Logan.” You whispered genuinely. You didn’t know what to say.
“Don’t be, …sorry, didn't mean to make it about myself.”
“You didn’t, really!” 
 A moment of awkward silence before you decided to share your piece.
“My Logan, er, you..I suppose it’s more or less the same as it was in your world but..you were like a…You were the closest I ever felt to a parent. I grew up because of you and..yeah, when I was around 17, you died.” It was almost funny how much you oversimplified those statements but it was the best you could manage at the given moment.
 He nodded, listening intently.
“I’m sure that..If he saw how you grew into who you are today, doing your own thing, in spite of the mutation shit and all…he wouldn’t change a thing about how all these fucking events went down..”
“You..think so?”
He chuckled, giving you a small smile, tired but genuine.
“Hell, I know so.” he said. You could tell. You could tell that he desperately wished this was how the events played out in his own world, with the other you alive and a bright future ahead of them.
 You hesitated for a moment, not sure if what you were about to say would be too much for him. Then again, it was him who approached you with this vulnerable conversation. 
“For what it's worth I would… they would want you to keep on living. Not forget them, not at all. Just..be. Be a person. Make friends and..live.”
 He looked you in the eye for a second, before averting your gaze and looking anywhere but you. This was hard for him. But he was trying.
 He patted your back firmly. “Thanks, kid.” It was a very simple thing you told him yet you could not possibly know what it meant to him. 
You thought that maybe you got what you wished for. Not exactly and certainly not ideally. But you and this Logan had something in common. Maybe, you could help and comfort each other in a way nobody else possibly could. 
 “Y’ know..I'm glad you got to stay, Logan.”
 A smile. “I'm glad to be here, kiddo.”
A pause. 
“How long do you think I should make Wade do my laundry for? Y'know. For retribution?”
“Oh, six months at least, bub..” 
You stayed for a couple hours chatting above the restless city, topics including but not limited to work, university and acquaintances.
Your pain was soothed a tiny bit and you hoped Logan's was too. You had a lot of time ahead of you to work on that further, after all.
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ellebakers · 2 years ago
Text
☆ Desire | Part one (+18)
Ethan landry x reader.
part II. | part III
Summary : just ethan fucking you against a wall.
Warnings : smut + language + blood. ! SPOILERS FOR SCREAM VI !
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it's been a year. a year since richie and amber destroyed your life. a year of waking up every night screaming after having a nightmare. it had to stop.
when your friends asked you to come and live with them in new york a few months ago, you refused. but the more the months passed and the more you felt alone.
that's why a few weeks ago, you called each of them to ask them to put you up until you found a small apartment not far from the university.
"i would like y/n. really, but with tara and quinn, all the rooms are taken." sam told you.
"it doesn't bother me but... you might hear us a lot anika and me, well you know, you might hear us doing certain things." mindy said
there was only one person left. chad.
"no problem gorgeous , I'll arrange the third bedroom for you and you can move in with us whenever you want. ethan is nice, a little shy but nice." your best friend told you.
you were so excited. can't wait to see your friends, but above all can't wait to start a new life far away from woodsboro and especially far away from ghostface.
———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———
it was eight o'clock in the morning, your taxi had just dropped you off in front of chad and ethan's building and you couldn't help but smile. this city is so big that no one is likely to find you. especially not the man in the white mask who haunted your nights.
after taking the elevator to the fourth floor, you took the corridor on your right as your friend had told you and stopped in front of apartment 45.
you raised your arm to knock but before you could move the door slammed open.
" y/n !"
" chad !"
you jumped at the brunette and hugged him, so happy to see your best friend. the boy did not take long to reciprocate the gesture.
"you still smell so good." he exclaimed.
you laughed "you’re still so weird."
he pulled back and lightly pinched your nose "i missed you, little head."
you smiled at him "I missed you too, big head."
he pushed aside to let you into the apartment.
once inside, he took your coat and your bag "is that all you took?" he asked you.
"yeah, i just took some change and some stuff. my parents will send me the rest."
he nodded and put your things on a small bench in the hallway.
"come, let me introduce you to ethan."
you followed him to the kitchen where a boy with curly hair was sitting at the counter. "ethan" hearing his name, the boy looked up. you can't help but notice how cute he was. "this is my best friend y/n." the boy's gaze fell on you for a moment then he quickly looked away. "y/n, this is ethan."
you waved your hand "hi"
"hi" he muttered, then he got up, got his things and walked towards what you assumed was his room.
chad turned to you pursing his lips "he's shy."
you nodded slightly, still confused by what had just happened. as a first meeting you had known better. did you scare him ? maybe he didn't like you. but you had only just met him, it was stupid.
your best friend cleared his throat, bringing you back to reality. " i forgot to tell you, but we're going to sam’s place in twenty minutes."
you widened your eyes "wait what? but i've only just arrived. and i won't be ready in twenty minutes."
he shook his head, raising his shoulders "but yes ! I installed your room, you just have to change, plus the girls don't know you're in town."
you crossed your arms "oh, so for once in your life you managed to keep your mouth shut."
a mischievous smile appeared on chad's face "oh, girls i had dated prefer when my mouth is open, especially between their-"
you cover your ears "shut up, I'm going to change."
he laughed and tickled you as you walked past him. "chad stop"
"ok"
———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———
after putting on jeans, a tank top and a leather jacket, you tore your hair down and put on some make-up, in ten minutes you were ready.
it was not the case of chad…
you growled when you saw that your friend wasn't ready and was running around looking for a t-shirt.
"seriously chad, put something else on your back it's okay."
"nah nah and nah, it's the t-shirt tara gave me. and besides, don't pretend that you don't like seeing me shirtless."
you rolled your eyes, then what he just said hit you.
"wait. you have a crush on tara!"
chad froze and turned to you "what? nah, it's just that...she gave it to me and...it would be rude not to put it on."'
"of course, I believe you." you smirked and chad gives you the middle finger.
ethan came towards you but moved very far away from you.
okay nice… you thought.
chad yelled which startled you. seeing your reaction he apologized "sorry kitten, I just found my top. come on, let's go, I have to stop and buy some beer, Tara only likes corona."
you smiled shaking your head.
———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———
while chad was in the store, you were in the car with ethan, who still hadn't spoken to you.
a ding caught your attention. a new notification appeared on your phone. it was that damn dating app that mindy told you to install. a certain brian came to send you a picture. you opened it. and the photo of a dick appeared. you growled and blocked him. that was the downside with this kind of app, the guys you met on it only wanted one thing. sex. after turning off your phone, you leaned your head against the glass and sighed.
"you shouldn't be on this kind of app." for the first time that evening, ethan had just spoken to you.
you didn't know what to say, but it could be a good way to strike up a conversation with him. after all, you were going to live with him for a while so you might as well be on good terms.
"yes, I know. i thought i would meet good people, but i only come across perverts."
"you're really pretty. that's what they come for. maybe you should try talking to guys who are less handsome or popular, but who really care about you."
he finds you pretty. the cutest guy you've ever seen thinks you're pretty. you must have dreamed. and his voice. lord, you could kneel before him and do anything he asked just by hearing his voice.
"yeah well. every guy, popular or not, are interested in me until they see my scars and learn who i am. thanks to richie and amber."
you expected ethan to answer you but he kills himself. at the same time, chad got into the car and drove to sam's place.
———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———
"chad! you're late. again." grumbled mindy.
the three girls were busy in the kitchen so they didn't see you come in behind chad.
"i have a body of god, it takes time to take care of it before going out."
"of course." his twin replied.
" i feel like a wave of mockery coming from you mindy. isn't it y/n?"
you approached and saw the three girls turn sharply, shock evident on their faces.
"holy shit." exclaimed sam
tara threw herself into your arms and mindy put down the bottle she was holding so as not to drop it, still in shock. they haven't seen you in months except for facetime.
"it's good to see you." murmured the little brunette who hugged you against her without wanting to let you go.
"it's good to see you too tara."
"okay okay, let go. it's my turn now." mindy exclaimed as she pulled tara away from you.
she cupped your face in her hands "fuck. is it good to be able to touch you." chad opened his mouth to comment but mindy cut him off rolling her eyes "not sexually dumbass."
you laughed and hugged your friend.
after a while she withdrew to make way for sam.
"i missed you." the eldest carpenter told you.
"i missed you too sam."
after a while, two other girls arrived introducing themselves as anika and quinn, after greeting them, you started to eat. it's been a year since you felt so good, surrounded by those you love and safe. your friends had all changed a lot over the past year, you were so proud of them. but something bothered you, like a bad feeling. you shook your head slightly to erase the feeling. after all, you were safe, nothing could happen.
you felt eyes on you. you turned and met ethan's eyes. you smiled at him but he turned his head towards quinn, they exchanged a strange look.
maybe they are a couple.
but they don't act like one. you looked away and focused on what mindy and anika were saying. after a few hours, your eyes began to close. chad was the first to notice.
"do you want us to go home?"
"i'll go home. but you, stay here. i'll walk."
"nah, we're going home too."
you knew he wanted to stay to spend time with tara. but you also knew that he wouldn't let you go home alone. "chad. stay here, i'll be fine, i promise."
as he was going to answer you, ethan cut him off. "i will accompany her."
chad was surprised but accepted. you got up, said goodbye to everyone and left with the brunette.
———☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ♡ ☆ ★ ❀ ✿ ———
the walk to the apartment was quiet and long. why did ethan want to come with you if it was to be cold with you. after a while, you found the courage to ask him the question you were dying to ask.
"did I do something to you ?"
you keep walking, and ethan didn't bother to turn to you when answering. "no, why ?"
"since I arrived you have spoken to me very little. and I have the impression that you don't like me too much."
"i don't know you, that's all. i'm always suspicious of people i don't know."
you didn't realize it, but for a few minutes, you had been following ethan down a dark, deserted alley.
"ok if you say so."
ethan froze, which made you stop. he turned his head in all directions.
"ethan what’s going on ?" you asked him.
he didn't answer you, you were going to ask him the question again, but he threw himself on you and pinned you against the wall behind you, kissing you.
it didn't take you long to respond by sliding your arms around his neck and kissing him. usually, you'll have pushed the boy away and probably slapped him. but ethan, you were really attracted to him. and we're not going to lie to each other, it's been a few months since you've had sex, so you weren't going to say no to a bang. after a while you pull away to catch your breath, he turned his lips to your neck, biting, licking and sucking on it in order to leave some marks. you moan when he finds your sensitive spot.
"ethan, someone might see us."
"i don't give a fuck."
you were ashamed to admit it, but hearing him talk like that made you wet.
"then fuck me."
he smiled against your neck "it was planned."
he pushed himself away from you, sliding his hands down your body until he was waiting for your jeans. he unbuttoned it and slid it off you, leaving your legs exposed in an alley. he knelt in front of you, knowing what he was going to do, you held your breath. he took the strip of your panties between his fingers and tore it. you were about to complain but ethan buried his head between your legs and took your pussy in his mouth. you moaned loudly and ran your hand through his hair.
"fuck, ethan."
you had a lot of guys who had went down on you. but ethan, fuck, it's like he's been doing this his whole life. between his tongue and his lips, you thought you were dying of pleasure. the more he penetrated you with his tongue, the louder you moaned. after a few minutes, the pleasure was too intense and you cum against his lips. he stood up as you caught your breath. he licked his lips "you taste so good."
"fuck me."
he smiled at you and lowered his pants to his knees, his boxers were the second to be lowered.
his dick was big and hard you didn't think it was going to fit but ethan grabbed your jaw between his fingers and made you look at him "it'll be fine." you nodded and he kissed you again. ethan took your left leg and put it against his hip. he spat into his hand and pumped himself a little before putting his cock towards your entrance. and in one movement he penetrated you, which made you moan and close your eyes. he didn't move, he took your other leg and lifted it, which allowed him to sink even more inside you. "fuck you’re so tight." he started his movements, slowly, pressing you more against the wall. you were still sensitive, which made you cry with pleasure at each thrust. "ethan, i'm close." he put his hand around your neck and squeezed lightly. his dominating side excited you even more and made you moan pornographic. the more he squeezed and the more you moaned, after a while you felt your second orgasm coming. "ethan, I'll-" you didn't have time to finish your sentence. an orgasm washed over you, making you moan and roll your eyes. ethan kept moving, and you knew he was going to cum, you nibbled on his earlobe "go ahead, cum inside me." that's all he needed to end up in you. he leaned his forehead against yours and caught his breath.
with one hand he pulled up his boxers and his pants. he lowered you to the ground, but his other hand still remained around your neck. "ethan you can take your hand off."
suddenly he looked up and smiled at you, and his hand squeezed more and more around your neck, making you gasp for air. "ethan" you were trying to beg him to stop but he kept going. he passed his other hand behind his back, you hadn't seen what he had taken, but you felt it. it was a knife.
a knife he stuck in your stomach, you tried to scream, but ethan stopped you. he raised the knife higher and higher. you felt yourself dying little by little. he dropped you to the ground and watched you bleed out. after your last breath. he took his phone and called chad.
"chad, oh my god that's horrible. we got attacked by ghostface. y/n, she's dead."
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