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sailor-aviator · 5 months

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Two Worlds

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: From a young age, the animal kingdom had fascinated you, and maybe that's why you chose to pursue that passion. You quickly became a force within the field, becoming the leading expert on ape social structures, which is how you found yourself on an expedition into the African jungles searching for a troop of gorillas. What you weren't expecting, however, was to run into the local wild man on one of your excursions... (Tarzan!AU)

Trigger Warnings: Talk of murder, Talk of infant abandonment, Jake and Javy being idiots. Think that covers it.

Word Count: 3k

Series Masterlist || Moodboard 1 || Moodboard 2 || Moodboard 3 || Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Tag List

The camp was situated in the middle of the dense jungle, various large tents surrounding the edges of the clearing with a couple of makeshift huts standing on the far side. It wasn’t a grand research facility by any means, but you still found yourself excited as you climbed out of the jeep, Jake and Bob not far behind you.

“Ice and Mav are somewhere around here,” Bob muttered, rounding the back of the jeep to grab your luggage.

“Ice and Mav?” You asked him, taking one of your suitcases from him and setting it on the ground.

“Oh, yeah,” he smiled bashfully. “That’s what they go by. Some old college names, I guess. Dr. Kazansky goes by ‘Ice,’ and Dr. Mitchell prefers it if people call him ‘Mav’ or ‘Maverick.’”

“Noted,” you grinned. Bob handed off the last of the luggage to Jake, leading the two of you towards the camp. Each tent seemed to house different equipment, and you could see the various scientific instruments as you passed by.

“We like to keep the work separate from the play,” Bob explained as the equipment tents gave way to what looked like living quarters. One of the tent flaps pulled back, revealing a handsome man with dark skin and hair cropped short. His eyes lit up at the sight of your little group, and a smile tugged on his lips.

“Oh, I guess they just invited anybody to come and work here, huh?” He joked, stepping out and walking up to you. You let out a laugh as you rolled your eyes playfully, quickly wrapping the man up in your arms.

“It’s good to see you too, Javy,” you laughed, pulling away so that he could wrap Jake in a matching hug.

“It’s good to see you, man. How long’s it been?” Jake asked, clasping him on the shoulder as the two broke apart.

“Been at least a year this August. Mike’s wedding, remember?”

“That’s right! Man, that bachelor party was-”

“If you two are finished,” you drawled, crossing your arms and giving them a pointed look. “I’d like to continue with the tour and find out which tent is mine.”

They both gave you sheepish looks before Bob gestured for you to follow. He led you to a smaller grouping of tents that surrounded a fire pit, various pots with pleasant aromas sitting atop the grill as they steamed and bubbled. You spotted two men sitting at one of the tables, and their heads perked up when they noticed you. One was all warmth, his dark hair cut short and blue eyes sparkling as he rose to greet you. The other was more stoic, his own eyes holding a sense of curiosity as they took your group in.

“We weren’t expecting you so soon,” the dark-haired man greeted, shaking your hand before moving to Jake. “Dinner isn’t quite ready.”

“No worries,” Jake shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Boots and I had a late lunch.”

“Boots?” The man questioned, turning a bemused smile towards you. You rolled your eyes and shot Jake a glare before giving him your name.

“I’m the primatologist,” you explained, earning a knowing nod from the man. “And are you Dr. Mitchell or Dr. Kazansky?”

“Well, I’m not technically a doctor,” the man laughed. “But I’m Pete Mitchell. You can just call me Mav or Maverick.”

“Not technically a doctor?” Jake asked, an eyebrow raised as he regarded Maverick.

“I think a lot of people just assume I’ve earned one since I follow Ice over here around everywhere,” Maverick smiled, nodding his head over at Dr. Kazansky. “But I never completed a doctorate or anything. That’s all him.”

“We keep him around to fix the generators and various other gadgets,” Dr. Kazansky chuckled, moving to stand. His grip was firm as he shook your hand, and you got the sense that he was the more reasonable and logical of the two. “We won’t keep you though. Bob, why don’t you show Boots here to her tent and Javy can help Jake get situated. You two must be tired after all that traveling.”

“That would be great, actually,” you smiled, already following after Bob towards the opposite side of the clearing. Another large tent stood a little ways away from everything, but not too far to where it would be a problem if anything were to happen, which you certainly hoped it wouldn’t.

“We figured you’d want some privacy,” Bob explained when you gave him a questioning look, drawing back one of the tent flaps to step inside. You followed suit, gazing around at the open space. A simple twin bed was pushed against the far wall, just sturdy enough to be considered permanent, or at least serve as a long-term accommodation. A desk was pushed on the opposite side of the tent, a simple shelf standing next to it, and you could see the wires running out of the tent to connect with the generator that sat closer towards the rest of the camp.

“I know it’s not much,” Bob said, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked over at you, “but we tried to make it a little nicer for you.”

“It’s wonderful, Bob, really,” you smiled, moving further into the tent to put your luggage down. “It’s more than enough for me. I’m touched you all thought to go this far.”

“It was Ice’s idea, actually,” he admitted. You nodded, making a mental note to thank the older researcher.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Bob hummed, giving you a small wave as he exited the tent, securing the flap open behind him. You made quick work of rolling up the blinds to the makeshift windows of your tent, allowing for the natural lighting to filter in through the mesh screens. You found several tubs for you to place your things in, quickly unpacking and placing them under your bed.

A strange feeling overcame you, like eyes on the back of your neck, and you looked around to see if one of the others had crept up behind you while you weren’t paying attention. You frowned when you saw no one, stepping closer towards the exit as you peered into the jungle. You didn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything there. You quickly pulled the flap shut. Whatever was out there would at least have to try and get at you now.

The sun had set, the fire casting a warm glow of orange around the camp as the generators powered the various lamps surrounding the outskirts of the camp. Maverick was dishing out what looked to be some kind of curry mixture onto different plates, handing you one as you joined everyone near the fire pit.

“It’s not much,” he started, “but I wouldn’t say I’m the worst cook.”

You took a tentative bite, an explosion of flavor bursting on your tongue as you chewed.

“This is really good, Mav!” You exclaimed, shoveling another spoonful into your mouth.

“And that’s the other reason we keep him around,” Ice joked from his spot at the table. You chuckled as Jake plopped down next to you, bumping your shoulder with his.

“How’s your tent?” He asked, a smirk on his face as he took a bite of his food, humming pleasantly at the taste.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged, taking a sip of the water Bob handed you before taking his own seat across the fire. “It’s cozy. What about yours?”

“I’m bunking with Javy and Bob,” he replied, casting you a sly grin. “But if you’re lookin’ for a roommate-”

“Absolutely not,” you snorted. Jake sighed, a look of fake hurt on his face as you rolled your eyes.

“You would really make all three of us sleep in the same tent while you get one all to yourself?” He asked you, mirth shining in his green eyes.

You tapped your chin, pretending to think about your answer.

“Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, I would. Besides, you’d probably just stink up the place.”

Jake let out an indignant squawk as Bob and Javy laughed at him. Bob cast a look over at Mav who was placing the lid back on the pot.

“Are you going to leave any out for Bradley?”

“Who’s Bradley?” You asked, looking between the two men. Mav sat down across from Ice, letting out a sigh as he relaxed into the chair.

“Bradley,” Javy grinned, waggling his eyebrows at you, “is the wild man who lives in the jungle.”

“Be serious,” you scoffed, scowling at him.

“It’s true!” He exclaimed, looking at Bob for assistance. “He comes by the camp sometimes! Think I’ve seen him maybe five times since being here?”

“He’s around a lot more than you think,” Mav smirked, eyes cast towards the foliage of the jungle. “Those are just the times he’s let you see him.”

“Is he dangerous?” You asked, shifting a little closer towards Jake, but all the men shook their heads.

“Nah,” Javy sniffed. “He’s just a loner. Comes by when he wants food or needs stitched up.”

“Why doesn’t he just stay here?” Jake asked. Mav and Ice shared an uneasy look as a moment of silence passed over the camp.

“Because he doesn’t exactly feel comfortable around humans,” Ice offered, and you frowned.

“I don’t understand,” you said. “I thought he was a man?”

“He is,” Bob answered. “He just didn’t grow up around people.”

Maverick sighed, running a hand through his hair. “About twenty-seven years ago, our friends Carole and Nick Bradshaw-”

“The famous primatologists?” You asked, your eyes lighting up in recognition at the names. The two had been trailblazers in the field, their focus being on gorilla social structures. Their deaths had hit the community hard, and their work had been largely abandoned until you picked up where they left off a couple of years ago. It was one of the reasons you had been invited to the camp.

“Yes,” Maverick nodded, giving you a sad smile. “This was their camp originally. They lived and worked here for years, studying the local troops of gorillas. But, as I’m sure you know, poachers came after one of the troops, and the two died in the struggle.”

You had heard about the tragic story of their passing, but the looks on Tom and Mav’s faces sent a pang of sympathy through you.

“What very few people knew, though,” Ice frowned, “was that they had a son. He was only a few months old when they died, and everyone thought that he had died with them.”

“That’s terrible,” you gasped, your hands covering your mouth in shock.

“It was,” Maverick nodded. “But, he didn’t die with his parents like everyone thought.”

“What do you mean?” Jake questioned. “How does a baby survive out here on its own?”

“It doesn’t without help,” Ice stated, waiting for the two of you to catch on.

“Bradley was taken in by the troop of gorillas,” Mav provided when the two of you cast confused looks at them. “They raised him as one of their own. We had no idea he was out here until we reopened the camp ten years ago. We caught him going through one of the tents one day.”

“How do you know that it’s him?” Jake asked. “How do you know it’s Bradley?”

“Because he’s the spitting image of his father,” Maverick answered, earning a hum from Ice.

“I don’t know,” he drawled, scratching his chin. “Carole’s in there too somewhere.”

“So why didn’t he stay?” You questioned. “Why doesn’t he stay with you?”

“He never seemed all that interested,” Mav shrugged. “He’s curious about us, yes, but he doesn’t seem to want to leave the troop behind. He comes and goes as he pleases, and we let him.”

“We teach him what we can, of course,” Ice offered. “He’s a fairly quick learner, and he seems eager to learn when he is here. He shouldn’t give you any problems if he shows up.”

You turned to Maverick. “You said that he’s around more often than we think?”

“I did,” he nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, because,” you hesitated, “I thought I felt someone or something watching me earlier. I didn’t see anything, but the feeling was still there.”

“It was probably him,” Mav nodded, giving you a gentle smile. “The two of you are new, and he’s just gotten used to Javy being around. It’s no wonder he might have been watching.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” you smiled.

“I’m sure he won’t take too long to make an appearance,” Mav continued. “I give it a week before he comes slinking out from behind one of those trees.”

A week had passed and still no sign of the wild man. All of you had developed a comfortable rhythm in the camp. Ice would disappear into one of the tents, Bob trailing after him as they started pouring over the notes on the group of baboons that took up residence nearby. Maverick would go around camp fiddling with the different gadgets sitting around camp. Javy would set off first thing in the morning towards the colony of termites deep within the jungle, and Jake would hike out with him, bringing back plant samples by around midday. You, on the other hand, were stuck at the camp.

“It’s probably best you don’t go out searching for the gorillas by yourself,” Maverick had said. “They’re a hard group to find, and Bradley is very protective of them. He probably wouldn’t let you anywhere near them right now.”

So you were stuck at the camp, trying to find odd chores and jobs to keep you occupied so you felt at least somewhat useful. You had started with trying to help Maverick with his tinkering, but that had quickly become a no as you had little to no understanding of mechanics. You weren’t much help to Ice and Bob, barely able to keep up with their conversations despite your extensive knowledge of primates. You despised the way the termites crawled all over you when Javy went out to observe them, and Jake…well, Jake was Jake.

So you busied yourself with cooking meals and doing laundry, slowly acclimating to the heat and humidity of the jungle. You quickly exchanged your pants and shirts for shorts and tank tops, the combination giving you a slight reprieve from the oppressive combination that kept you constantly covered in a layer of sweat.

The feeling of being watched came and went, slowly becoming a near constant as the days went on.

It was the second day that you realized some of your belongings had been moved. You had set your laundry on your bed, folded into neat piles as you stepped out to go and check on the food for dinner. When you came back, the clothes were scattered on your bed, thrown haphazardly across the sheets.

The seventh day, you walked in to find your shampoo opened, a small puddle of the floral smelling liquid on your desk. You had pursed your lips, but cleaned it up wordlessly, making sure to tuck it securely back under your bed. Your cheeks had warmed the next morning, despite the heat, when you found a bundle of flowers placed neatly outside your tent. You had smiled, gingerly picking up the flowers and carrying them towards the camp where the others were already gathered.

“What are these?” Jake asked, coming up to inspect the flowers. You tugged them back when he reached out to grab one, a scowl on your face as you swatted at him.

“Hands off,” you snapped, skirting around him and towards the table.

“Where’d you get them?” He asked unperturbed, plopping down next to you on the bench.

“They were outside my tent this morning,” you replied, barely catching the look Ice and Mav gave one another. “Aren’t they pretty?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “They’re fire lilies.”

“You just found them outside your tent?” Maverick asked, eyeing the flowers in your hand.

“Uh huh,” you chirped. “I think I’m going to keep them on my desk.”

“Bradley seems to have taken a liking to you,” Ice said carefully. “He brought Javy a rhinoceros beetle when he first got here.”

“I didn’t know it was there until I crawled into bed and it bit me,” Javy frowned, shaking his head at the memory. You bit back a laugh, hiding your face in the palm of your hand.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to get the flowers?” Jake asked with a frown. “I mean, I’m the one here who’s studying plants.”

“Are you jealous?” You teased, earning a scowl from the blond. “He probably brought them for me because of my shampoo.”

“What do you mean?” Bob asked.

“I came back to my tent yesterday to find my shampoo sitting on my desk. It looked like someone had squeezed some of it out,” you explained with a shrug. “It smells like flowers, so maybe he thought I would like the flowers.”

“Interesting,” Maverick hummed, studying you. You shifted under his gaze, deciding to busy yourself with fixing a plate of food. Once you had settled back onto the bench, Jake turned to you.

“Do you wanna come with me to the waterfall tomorrow? I was going to go collect some samples of the algae growing there.”

You thought over his proposal. On one hand, you were bored to tears just sitting around the camp, waiting for any chance you could get to go try and catch a glimpse of the gorilla troop. On the other hand, you’d be stuck with Jake, and the man could be a tad controlling when in his element.

“Yeah, okay,” you nodded, deciding that dealing with a hyper-focused Jake was better than nothing. He grinned, tossing a piece of banana into his mouth.

“Great! We’ll leave bright and early!”

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vqlluna · 4 months

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SOBER CONFESSIONS ━━━ REMUS LUPIN

drunken truths p1

summary: Kissing Remus that night was the only thing on your mind the entire month, and you haven't seen him since then. You both happen to bump into each other in distress in the safety at Lily's apartment in the middle of the night. Turns out Remus got into a fight, for you?

notes: f!rich!reader x poor!remus lupin, goody-two-shoes!reader x stoner!remus wounds, fluff, frenemies to lovers Remus is sassy and sweet

a/n: as promised, I'm delivering a part two! Sorry it took to long, been brainstorming/daydreaming and fixing/adding details for the past few days! Enjoyyy

IT'S NOT FUN WHEN YOUR MIND FUSSES OVER ONE THING AND ONE THING ONLY. You never remember your drunken nights, that was until a month ago. Even if the rest of the night is a blur you can surely still feel the lingers of Remus' lips, and his touch, and his confessions.

That was the first time you truly accepted to yourself how much you wanted him, but what would be the chances? Lightly touching upon the subject with your parents, especially your mother, did not go well. Now all your most precious belongings sat in a suitcase in the middle of James' and Lily's living room.

Even further so, being locked tight in a small flat with people who constantly talked about their wolfish friend, didn't help get him off your mind. So instead you found yourself busying yourself every day for the past month.

This is how countless shopping bags also ended up beside that suitcase on the floor. It's also how you'd been going out to party so much on your own, desperate to find a man that both you and your mother could approve of so you could move back home to your luxurious bed.

Tonight's adventure was truly needed, as James and Lily just couldn't provide you with foods that fit your, quite expensive, tastes. Now you end up coming back after a late-night trip to the twenty-four-hour grocery mart.

You jumble around as you open the door, pushing it open with your back before you twirl back around. In between the bags of produce that you held in your arm, you see a head of short hair peeping at the edge of the couch which presses against the side of the wall.

"James?" You ask, you go to your left as you enter the small kitchen, setting the bags on the short island turning the lights above the countertops on.

You turn back to the couch enveloped in shadow and chuckle, "What'd you do to Lils this time?" you tease after remembering the one time you'd come over as James had to sleep on the couch after an argument.

You smiled to yourself excited for being able to shove him off of it in a few minutes after putting everything away.

"Definitely m'not James" the person on the couch mumbled, their voice slipping out like silk. You froze as your back faced away from the living room, coincidentally a few bars of expensive chocolate in your hands, ready to be put away.

"What are you doing here, Remus?" you looked slightly over your shoulder as a shiver went through your body. The one person who you were constantly trying not to think about now lay down in the same room as you.

"What are you doing here?"

"I asked first."

You turned around, shoving your groceries to the side as you turned on the lamp at the end table beside the sofa. You widen your eyes as Remus' appearance matched his explanation. "Was out with Prongs, he dragged me back here after I got ina fight with some bloke."

Whatever bloke, had had the guts to fight Remus surely gave him a nasty bruise at his eye. What surprised you even more was his missing jumper which he had turned into a makeshift pillow. Ignoring the flush at your cheeks and the wild thoughts in your mind you could see imprints of nails that dug at his shoulders, dried blood around them.

At the top of his forehead sat even more dried blood and small cuts around his cheeks, and the scars scattered around his body didn't help his appearance.

"Merlin, Remus! Did James even try fixing you up?" you scolded, and even wanted to scowl as Remus' rolled his eyes.

"Calm down. I'm fine."

"And where was Lily?"

"Fast asleep," he shrugged, "We didn't want to wake her— Now care to explain why you're here?" he pushed on, changing the topic away from him.

Your eyes dashed around him in worry, it wasn't all that bad, but without the proper care anything could get infected. "I live here now—" you mumbled before switching the topic back, "Remus you, you need some ice," you finalized walking to the freezer.

Remus watched as you slipped a mound of ice cubes into a plastic bag before wrapping it in cloth. You returned back, setting yourself at the edge of the couch beside him. "Here," you said out reaching the makeshift ice pack.

The boy cocked an eyebrow at you soon shrugging you off, "M'fine," he reiterated.

You huffed, softly pressing the ice to this eye yourself, holding it there despite his tries to move it off.

"Stubborn," he grumbled.

"Evasive."

Your stomach fluttered as you noticed the corner of his lips picked up slightly. "So why are you living here, Princess?" he asked, sending another shiver down your side, you'd never get over the name.

"Got in an argument with my mother about quite a few things. She kicked me or, or really I just left. Lily let me crash," you explained rapidly. You didn't want to explain that the main argument was over how your Mother couldn't let you marry someone of "his status".

Carefully you took his hand pressing it over the ice pack to keep it in place, "M'gonna, I'm gonna get you some anti-septic, hold on. And keep that damn ice on your face!"

As you left Remus did take the ice off for a second in spite. Taking his jumper away from his head, he laid it over his torso, feeling insecure of his scars ever since you turned the lamp on, especially when you looked him over quite a few times.

When he heard your foot steps come down back the hallway he replaced the ice pack on his eye, curiously eyeing the wet cloth and bottles in your hands.

A fter returning you removed the ice pack yourself, setting it on the coffee table, much to Remus' delight. What wasn't very settling to him was when you mentioned how you were too clean up the cuts, especially the gash on his forehead.

"Might hurt," you whispered, pouring some solution on a cotton pad and applying it to the tiny cuts and imprints first. You then moved his temple, you slowly pouring it over. Remus winced and seethed, making a frown appear on your lips. You took the wet rag off your leg as you cleaned up the dried blood. "Sorry."

If he was being honest with himself, he didn't mind. The closer to him you were, the better. He was hopeful you didn't notice his constant stare on you as you worked on healing his wounds. So fussed over him he itched himself with the question, "Why are you doing this?"

Grateful for the dim lighting, you cheeks heated up. "Well, you're currently residing on my bed. Sooner I patch you up, sooner I get to sleep."

"Well I could always make some room. No problem with sharing," he teased, the extra wink he added pushing you over the edge. For as long as you can remember Remus was also teasingly flirting with you to boil your anger, now you questioned if he did it to genuinely drop hints.

You clenched your jaw, scrunching your nose at him with fake disgust. You set the alcohol and rag back down and picked up a small butterfly strip to apply to the open cut that kept glaring at you from his forehead. "Remus, what happened?" you question concerning to whatever fight he'd wound himself in.

"—Do you remember the party last month?" he cut in right before you applied the bandage, making you freeze once again, but with the power you had, you managed to nod. "What do you remember?"

Simply with the stare you gave him silently told him that you remembered what was important. "Look, I'm sorry for, for kissing you. You were drunk and— It was Rosier."

You wanted to answer, to tell him that you enjoyed the kiss, if it wasn't for the end of the sentence that caught your ears. "What about him?" You'd only brought Rosier that night because your parents would've never let you out of the house to attend some house party with James and everyone.

"Me and Prongs were at a pub t'night. We bumped into him and the git was saying nasty things 'bout you. M'guessing he found out about that night, and I tried telling 'im off but," he rambled and slowed down at the end.

Motioning your head for him to continue. Remus took a breath and furthered on, "He started talking crap about me and then my fist did the rest of the talking," he chuckled, "Prick was a coward at the end and ended up just hittin' me over the head with a bottle." Well, that explained the cuts all over his face.

You looked at him in slight up, your lips parted, "What'd he say about me?"

"S'not important."

"What did he say, Remus."

You needed to know what things were being said about you behind your back. Though you had your difficulties with your family, you weren't going to let bad-mouthing of you ruin everything. You didn't want shame put on your name from a lonely, rich bastard.

But most of all you wanted to know what riled Remus up so much that he'd take a hit of glass to the head for you. Putting down the strip you occupied him by then putting the ice back on his eye. And as you stared at him so intently he couldn't say no to you.

"He called you a—a slut and a bloody whore," he said quietly, looking away as his jaw clenched and teeth gritted, "Just rambling on to all his muppets on how it wouldn't be long till you moved onto them and their servants." You heart sped up tenderly as you saw how furious and emotional he got over the subject.

It surprised to you know that truly, somewhere, Remus had a heart for you. You bit the inside of your cheek figuring out what to say next. You busied yourself switching back on bandaging the cut up again, talking while you applied it on to distract him from the pain.

"You shouldn't have punched him though, you fool," you laughed very softly, not letting him know that knowing what Evan Rosier had been saying about you affected you as much as it did, "Can't doubt that the prat will press charges."

"It's worth it."

You set the peelings of the strip back down in the small box beside all the other items. Remus twisted his legs around you before planting his feet on the ground sitting beside you.

While months ago, being so close in his vicinity would have you fuming, itching to get to the other side of the room, you now sat with goosebumps all over your body, a rapidly beating heart, and twiddling your fingers in your lap like a dunce.

"Did you mean what you said that night?" the question slipping out of your lips while you craned your neck to look at him. "When you said I was pretty, and charming, and that you liked me, did you mean it?" The only answer Remus gave you was silence, a shaky inhale was the only thing that was heard other than the chirps of crickets outside.

His jaw shook slightly while his lips were brought into a fine line, "Yes," he said. You blinked and looked down into the tiny sliver of space that was in between you two. And now this time Remus was anxiously awaiting your repsonse.

"I like you too," you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. Remus' fingers twitched at his sides and he gave you a singular nod.

"Good." He turned around, stretching out to grab his jumper as he stood up and put it on. "I should get going now, since I'm all patched up." You cursed yourself in your mind for being sad as the fabric covered his torso.

The air around you two was thick and weirdly awkward. "Do you want a cuppa?" you blurted, "Before you go. I got this special tea from the market."

Remus nodded, "That'd be nice, thanks," he muttered. You got up and squeezed your way past him, sending shocks up his arm. You got the counter and shifted through the bags picking out two different boxes of tea bags. "Which would you like, I have—" As you turned around to show him the options you were surprised at his very close presence behind you.

He looked like he was shaking himself out of something as he apologized, "Sorry."

You turned back setting the boxes back down on the marble as a sudden urge came over you. You cursed once more to yourself biting your lip in contemplation. "Fuck it," you uttered so quietly that only you'd hear it.

You whirled back around stopping as you caught Remus' eye. And for what seemed like hours, the two of you just stared. It wasn't like the night at the party, where his eyes glazed all over you face, he was simply just looking at your eyes, and it both scared you and make you feel warm at the same time. "Can I kiss you?" you questioned.

His lips crawled into a mixture of a smirk and a grin, "You don't need to ask me that ever, Princess." You stomach filled with butterflies at your anxiousness. His hand snaked to cup your face pulling the two of you in, but he didn't dare let your lips touch.

It wasn't like the last, where he'd gone in so quickly, instead, you waited there with your eyes closed begging him in your mind to just do it. In fact, it gave some odd comfort at the thought that he might be relishing himself in the moment just before he finally attached to you.

But just like the last, when it happened you were overwhelmed with a rush of dizziness. This time though the kiss felt extremely gentle, he kissed you like you were made of glass. Because while that night, kissing him felt like a fight of realising feelings, this one felt like dancing in them.

It wasn't long before the two of you got tired of having to contort you necks, and so Remus aided you on your try to hop up and sit on the counter. Carelessly you both pushed the paper bags and boxes of tea aside, making quite a ruckess you giggled.

You hands found themselves in what you decided your now favourite place to put them, tangled in his hair. And his own, what was then decided from the very beginning, resting back along your hips, least to say you had a strong sense of deja vu.

Remus stumbled, creaking and shoving the stool beside him and the tug you gave at his hair earned you a small groan from him before he parted for a moment. "If we keep making noise like this they're bound to wake up and kick us out."

You pecked him lips before adding a remark of your own, "You're the one making all the noise you idiot. Besides, wouldn't be the first time you've ruined something."

You felt the chuckle he gave fan out against your face while he pressed his nose into yours, "Here I was thinking that when you finally liked me the shots would end."

"If I recall you're the one who starting throwing the shots first."

"Can't blame me for wanting your attention," he shrugged, capturing your lips one again and capturing you in a little shock you'd accidentally completely knocked the boxes of tea off the counter. "So I'm the one making all the noise huh?"

"Shut up," you breathe dipping back in. Just then the door at the end of the apartment twisted open and your red-haired friend barged down the hallway, and the dazed lost puppy that was James stumbled down the hall with her.

She had a stern look on her face as her wand was raised at the ready. As she caught sight at the two of you, Remus in between your legs with your arms wrapped around him, her jaw dropped. "What the hell?!" she yelled, a smug smile on her face.

You peeked over Remus' shoulder looking to Lily whilst she gave you a supportive shake of her head. "I'm home!" you cheesily said quietly.

James, not taking in anything that was going on around him, dragged his hands down his face as he turned around and walked back into his room as Lily told him, "We can get back to bed, love, nothing but people who've gone mad!" she suggested toward the pair of you.

She turned back around before she entered back into her room. "If you two do anything," she scolded, wagging her wand, "I will curse your nuts, Moony, and donate your trash collection of books!" she scowled, slamming the door shut.

Remus' shoulders shook as he laughed quietly. Upon looking back at him your eyes immediately found his again realising he hadn't once looked away during the interaction. "I think we've found you a new enemy," he teased.

You rolled your eyes, "I'd never hate anyone as much as I hate you. Especially not Lils," you emphasized. Your breath was stuck as he started pecking and nipping at your jaw. He made his way around your neck, collarbone, and face, surely leaving a pair of hickeys somewhere before he place one last kiss at your lips.

"Y'sure about that, Princess?"

I'll let you all decide if you want more of them

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wanderingcas · 10 months

Text

since ao3 is down and we're all suffering here's chapter 1 of my destiel lighthouse keepers fic (not the prologue. that's a secret)

title: where there is darkness pairing: dean/cas summary, written badly, because i did this in 2 minutes: Cas is trying to escape his past by taking a job as a lighthouse keeper. Little does he know the love of his life is waiting for him there. Historical au. Gay sex later. Just read it.

Chapter 1

1949. Autumn.

The bus drops Castiel off on the outskirts of Kittery, just over the bridge connecting Maine and New Hampshire’s borders over the water. He watches the bus as it hisses, lifting its aching joints and meandering down the windy highway 101.

Castiel decides to stand for a long moment, staring out into the empty field.

Behind him is Kittery Foreside, the center of town: beyond it, the harbor, with the lighthouse just a speck in the distance. It’s a clear afternoon, not quite twilight, so he was able to track the dot through the window as they crossed the bridge.

But now, he’d rather stare at the field and the deep blue of the sky as the sun sets.

In his left hand is the official letter detailing his new job. In his right, a leather suitcase containing everything he now owns (three outfits, one wool sweater, a toothbrush—and a stack of letters, stained in the left corners where he dropped them accidentally into a puddle).

He watches a seagull’s trajectory as it lands on the fence post, scratching at a wing with its beak.

A lighthouse keeper—arguably an insane job to take, considering he has no experience. But the sailing portion on his resume (from a handful of times he sailed at his family’s lake house as a boy) seemed to set him apart from the rest of the applicants. And the job was going to put him exactly where he wanted to be: away from society. Away from people.

Taking a sharp breath, he turns on his heel, and follows the road to the town center, street lights illuminating the pavement in the twilight.

There’s only one hotel that took his reservation at such short notice; as he fills out the registration form, the bellhop eyes his lack of luggage suspiciously.

Swallowing a nervous lump in his throat, Castiel takes the key from the woman at the front desk. “Do you have any recommendations for somewhere to eat this time of night?”

“Only thing open on a Wednesday night is the Roadhouse, sir,” the woman says as she files his paperwork behind the desk. She shoots him a smile. “It’s good food, though. Place is almost as old as the town itself. I recommend the lobster rolls, personally.”

“Thank you, uh…”

“Bela,” she replies.

“Bela,” Castiel repeats. “Can you tell me which direction to go?”

Pulling out a map, Bela splays it on the counter, uncapping a pen.

The Roadhouse is clear on the other side of town, across yet another bridge. The amount of islands that the area is divided into baffles Castiel. It’s well past dark when he arrives, pushing the door into the warm embrace of the diner.

A rush of nostalgia hits him as he realizes it’s similar to the one in Boston that he frequented, just a couple of blocks from the parish—their similarities extend even to the paraphernalia on the wall. Whoever owns this diner seems to have an obsession with John Wayne, just like the ones in Boston.

“Be one sec!” a waitress calls as she flies past him, a tray of drinks balanced on her shoulder. “Just pick an empty one!”

Dutifully, Castiel slides into a chair by the window, setting his cold hands on the table. He glances around at the buzzing diner; there are more people than he expected, considering that the town seemed to already close its eyelids as the sun went down. A family with two whining toddlers are crammed into a booth in the corner, another taking up multiple tables shoved together, kids running around and chasing each other as their parents snap at them to sit down and eat. Other tables are filled with men in fishermen’s overalls and boots, a group of women poking at their plates of food, babies in their arms.

One baby, held by a woman in a plaid dress, coos and holds out his hands towards the plate. The woman smiles down at the baby, kissing the top of his blonde head.

Castiel’s heart constricts and he looks away before the familiar tears can prick at his eyes.

“Whaddaya havin’?”

Castiel whips up his head at the same waitress from before, blinking. “Oh. I don’t have—”

“Ah, damn it, I didn’t give you a menu did I?” she says with a roll of her eyes, pulling out a plastic one from underneath her arm and setting it on the table. “Sorry, the dinner rush is crazy on Wednesdays. You wouldn’t think it, my brother had the big idea to make Wednesday the day we offer crab at market price, so everyone’s goin’ nuts.”

Castiel stares down at the menu, feeling a little shell-shocked, and realizing he hasn’t had a proper conversation with someone for weeks—especially not someone so energetic. “Should I not order the crab, then?” he asks, solemnly.

“Not order the—?” She lets out something closer to a snort than a laugh, smacking his arm. “Oh, you’re yanking my chain, huh? No, order the crab if you want, damage is already done. I’ll just give you a minute, okay? Oh, and name’s Jo, if you need to yell at me across the room.”

Before Castiel can reply, she’s already walking away at a quick pace, ponytail swinging.

He orders the lobster roll when she finally comes back around to his table twenty minutes later; when he explains it was on Bela’s recommendation, Jo scoffs, “And you trust her?” She waves a hand at his raised eyebrows. “Whatever, she’s right, actually. Lobster was fresh caught this morning, too. Any fries with that roll to keep it company?”

Castiel nods, handing the menu back to her. “And an iced tea.”

She takes the menu, narrowing her eyes. “Say… if Bela gave you the recommendation, does that mean you’re staying at the inn?”

Castiel sucks in a breath. The lines he rehearsed are already slamming into his head like a film playing too quickly. “Yes. I just got into town.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, welcome! What brings you to Kittery?”

“A job.”

When Castiel doesn’t elaborate, Jo leans in, smile conspiratorial. “And what job would that be?”

Castiel considers lying. But he already has enough lies to keep track of. “Second assistant keeper at Whaleback Lighthouse.”

Jo’s eyebrows shoot up her brow, and she says, emphatically, “Oh. The stag light, out on the harbor? Really?”

“I don’t seem the type?” Castiel jokes weakly.

Jo doesn’t even try to hide the way her eyes scrape up and down his suit and trench coat, more tax accountant than sailor. “No, actually. Not at all.”

“I’m trying a career change.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I have sailing experience.”

Jo purses her lips. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

It was beginning to feel like he was interviewing for the job all over again. Castiel crosses his arms on the table and stares her down as intimidatingly as he can: the same stare he gave the children when they forgot lines of their catechisms. “Is that all?”

“Hey,” Jo says, hands raised, “just making conversation. I’ll go put in your order.”

Castiel watches as she makes her way to the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder at him as she goes. There’s a small window where the orders are passed between the kitchen and whoever is at the counter: Castiel can see Jo talking to another man through it as they glance intermittently at Castiel.

He scrubs a hand over his face and curses under his breath. Lying would have been the better option.

The news spreads like wildfire: from Jo to the cook to other patrons in the diner to an older woman at the till. They all stare at him with curious glances, sizing him up. When Jo delivers his lobster roll, Castiel can barely eat it, his stomach is so twisted up in knots.

Someone is going to ask questions; investigate. Or, worse, someone is going to recognize him from the papers. His suitcase is still at the hotel; he could run back to his room, grab it, get out of town. He could just ditch the suitcase altogether if it weren’t for the damn letters. He curses himself again for not putting them in his pocket. He begins to fish out his wallet, fingers shaking as he pulls out a few bills because he can’t just add dine and dash to his list of offenses, but the walls are also closing in and everyone’s looking at him and—

A man appears beside the table. Castiel stares up at him, eyes wide, hands hidden under the table.

He’s wearing waterproof overalls and gumboots, like the rest of the fishermen types at the adjacent table. He scratches his beard and narrows his eyes as he sizes up Castiel.

Castiel wonders if he could take him in a fight. Based on Castiel’s lack of fitness and the size of this man’s arm, his guess is a resounding no.

“You the new keeper at Whaleback, huh?” he asks.

Castiel wills his voice not to shake. “Yes.”

The man stares at him for another long moment, frowning, scratching at the dark beard peppering his jawline. Finally, he sits down at the chair across from Castiel, leaning toward him. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Castiel asks, frowning.

The man shakes his head. “Just… watch yourself out there. Okay? Place isn’t exactly… normal.”

Something akin to cold water rushes down Castiel’s spine, extinguishing the fire of anxiety freezing his limbs—people aren’t wary of him. They’re wary of his new place of occupation. He almost laughs with relief.

“I can manage,” he says, placing the bills back into his wallet. “Thank you.”

“No, see, there’s—” The man blows out a gust of air. “The Principal Keeper, you see. He ain’t right in the head.”

“I’m sorry, who even are you?” Castiel snaps.

“Cole!”

Both Castiel and the man turn their heads in time to see the older woman from the register approach and cuff Cole over the back of the head. “Spreading rumors again, huh? Got nothin’ better to do?”

Cole crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair with a scowl. “Not rumors if they’re true, Ellen,” he mumbles.

“Then the next thing you can gab about is how I kicked your ass across this diner and out onto the street,” Ellen snaps, smacking at his shoulder. “Go on, get up and join your buddies, you good-for-nothin’.”

With a roll of his eyes, Cole rises, then points his finger at Castiel. “I mean it, okay, guy? Just watch yourself around that psycho.”

“That’s enough out of you,” Ellen growls, shoving his back as he goes. She hooks a thumb over to the table of fishermen. “Ignore those superstitious idiots. They latch onto a Jonah in town and don’t stop talking about it.”

“A Jonah?” Castiel asks.

“That’s what they call anyone who’s bad luck enough to stop them from getting a catch.” Ellen shrugs a shoulder. “But they’ve had the best fishing around here in decades since Dean Winchester rolled back into town from the war, so it’s just prejudice.” She nods down at Castiel’s plate. “Lobster roll no good?”

Castiel blinks down at it; he’d forgotten the food in front of him. “Just haven’t had the chance to try it yet.”

Smile sympathetic, Ellen nods over to the counter. “If you want, we can move you over there. Then the eyes of the town will be on your back. Easier to ignore.”

Despite himself, Castiel’s lips quirk up into a grin. “I like that idea.”

With a wink, Ellen scoops up his plate for him, holding it aloft as she weaves through the tables. “Sorry about them,” she says over her shoulder to Castiel as he follows. “You’re not exactly the first keeper this year to come into town for the job, so they’re just a little excitable.”

Castiel slides onto the stool at the counter, frowning. “I thought the job just opened up last month?”

“Oh, it did.” Ellen rounds the corner to the other side of the counter, depositing Castiel’s plate. She quirks her lips, thinking for a moment. “You’re the fourth, I think.”

Castiel gapes. “Fourth?”

“This year, at least.”

“I…” Castiel works his jaw to find the words. “Did they—are they…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, too absorbed in the image of his body splayed out onto the rocks as an ending to this story.

“Oh—no,” Ellen scoffs, waving a hand. “They didn’t die. It’s a dangerous job, but people don’t die… often. No, these men quit after a few months. One didn’t even last a week.”

Because she keeps glancing at his plate, Castiel picks up the lobster roll and takes a bite. Perfectly salted lobster and toasted bun explodes flavor in his mouth. He makes a mental note to thank Bela profusely for the recommendation.

He realizes, two bites into his food, that he forgot to pray.

He frowns, wiping his face with a napkin, inwardly chastising himself. That kind of thing doesn’t matter anymore.

Jo skips up to stand beside Ellen, placing her empty tray down on the counter. “What are we talking about?”

“Don’t listen to her about it, either,” Ellen tells Castiel firmly, taking the tray. “Jo’s got fanciful notions about the sea.”

“Oh, we talking about Whaleback?” Jo’s eyes glint mischievously as she leans forward to say to Castiel in a lowered voice, “It’s haunted, you know. That’s why all those keepers quit. Only the Winchesters stay there ‘cause they got used to the ghosts by now.”

“I see,” Castiel says slowly.

“But, hey, kudos to you for trying it out,” another voice says, patting him on the shoulder. Castiel balks at the man who’s suddenly appeared next to him, a hand offered in greeting. “I’m Ash, Jo’s brother, Ellen’s reluctant son. Nice to meet ya.”

Castiel rubs his temples and sighs. “This is beginning to feel like a circus.”

“Let me give you the skinny,” Ash says, pushing back his hair that’s somehow short in the front and long in the back—something Castiel can barely get his mind around. “Lighthouse used to be totally normal, right? Besides the normal rumors that lighthouses just always have. Daddy John Winchester and little brother Sam Winchester looked after it while older brother Dean Winchester was off fighting the Nazis—he came back and that’s when things started getting weird.”

Weary from traveling and the overall conversation, Castiel decides to tuck into his lobster roll, hoping that if he doesn’t reply, they’ll all go away.

“Tell him what happened with his uh, uh—what do you call it?” Jo asks, snapping her fingers.

“Oh, yeah! Dean’s agoraphobia,” Ash says. “Shifts at the lighthouse are usually 25 days on, 4 days off, right? Well, Dean stopped going to shore more and more, until he just stopped leaving the lighthouse altogether. Don’t think that kid’s been out since—what? ’47?”

“Of course he has,” Jo says with a roll of her eyes. “He stopped coming to the mainland when his dad died last year, remember?”

Castiel lifts his head at that one. “He died?”

“Yeah,” Ash says, shaking his head. “John Winchester—he was the Principal Keeper for, what, twenty years at least. Fell over the railing on a clear day. Since then, people keep sayin’ they see weird things—like a woman in a white dress walking up and down the landing, lights flickering on and off during a power outage… Weird things like that. But people are jumpy after the war, they need something to talk about. Get their minds distracted.”

Castiel sipped at his water, mulling over the information. “Who was on shift with Mr. Winchester when he fell?”

Jo grimaces, exchanging a look with Ash. “Dean was in the kitchen when it happened. Saw his dad falling past the window.”

“He’s Principal Keeper now,” Ash adds. “So you’ll be serving under him. Sam Winchester is the first assistant. And Adam, their half brother, still in high school—he helps out from time to time, picks up shifts if Sam needs it. But now, with you here…” Ash lets out a chuckle. “Well, as long as you last, anyway.”

Castiel takes another long gulp of water, wishing it was beer so he could calm his jangling nerves. “The Coast Guard didn’t tell me I was walking into a situation.”

Ellen, who stayed on the sideline of their conversation, comes back to lean against the counter. “Officially? You’re not.” She points her finger at Castiel. “Loyalty runs deep in this town. No matter how weird Dean gets, he still fought for this country and he’s done a lot of good for the town since. So any sideways look or word against him, and people will sooner run you out of here than take your side. Got it?”

Castiel sets down his iced tea. He nods. “I got it.”

“Good.” Ellen leans back, arms crossed. “That all being said—if you last after a shift, be sure to visit here while you’re on shore, okay?”

“Yeah,” Ash chimes in, “we’re placing bets. So last at least two shifts so I can stay low, okay?”

“Or at least three,” Jo adds. She nudges his elbow on the counter with her own. “Don’t worry, champ, I got faith in ya.”

Incredulous, Castiel scoffs into his water. “Yeah. Right.”

The bell to the diner door rings, heralding a group of sweaty children in baseball uniforms and their parents. The sudden flood of people distracts Ash and Jo long enough for Castiel to finish his lobster roll in peace. When he’s done, he places a ten dollar bill, enough to cover the meal and then some, beside his plate as he shrugs on his coat, winding around the crowd clamoring for a seat to sit.

He hunches his shoulders against the damp shock of cold, blowing warm air into his hands. Living in Boston was cold, but not like this: here, the very air feels hostile, stealing your breath to toss into the harbor’s winds. Castiel paces down the main street, past the dark windows of a flower shop, antique store, and a movie palace. At the end of the road, nudged up a slight hill, is a drug store—and a payphone tucked in beside it.

It’s a bad idea. He knows it’s a bad idea. But then he thinks of the letters in his suitcase, and the answer is made for him.

Picking the phone off its cradle, he dials for the operator and asks to make a collect call to Boston, fighting the tremor in his voice.

The line trills once. Twice. Castiel’s palms spring sweat despite the cold. On the fourth ring, the receiver is picked up.

“Hello?”

Hearing his sister’s voice releases the vise that’s constricting his chest. “Anna,” he chokes out.

There’s a long silence on the other end. Then: “You have to be kidding me.”

“I know I shouldn’t be calling—”

“I told you not to. I’m hanging up.”

“Just—” Castiel clutches the phone tight to his ear, his body a taut string. He can hear forks clinking in the background on Anna’s end. They’re probably having dinner. “How is she?” he asks, unable to hold the words back. “Her and—”

“They’re fine,” Anna says with a sharp sigh. “Listen, someone could be listening in. It was stupid to call. Don’t do it again.” She pauses. “You get in okay?”

“Yes.” Castiel closes his eyes against the sudden tears that spring into his eyes. “I start the job tomorrow.”

“Good.” Anna’s voice is gentler as she adds, “They’re fine, little brother. Just—don’t call again. Okay?”

“Okay.” Castiel can hear a familiar laugh over the line. He quickly slams the phone back into the cradle; an instinctual reaction.

Panic, fear, sorrow—it all mounts in his chest as he stumbles away from the payphone, blindly down the road. His feet find their path away from the downtown, toward a cluster of trees and green overlooking the harbor.

The lighthouse is on now, its lens bright and twirling across the water like a ballerina suspended on a string. Castiel follows the movement as he breathes unsteadily, desperate to catch his racing heart.

Eventually, as it always does, his pulse slows. The fear, the panic—it all leaves his body like water trickling off a ledge. Regret and shame remains, pooling sourly in his gut.

The water below is dark, murky. It would be so easy to get lost in, with one step in the wrong direction.

He stares at the lighthouse for a moment longer. Then, with a straight back, he turns away and walks back toward the town.

****

As with most things in his life, Dean has a love-hate (but mostly hate) relationship with this lighthouse.

It’s easy to take care of on sunny days and clear nights, but it’s grueling during a storm or fog. Sun shines through the window in the midday, providing warmth, but it’s ever-loving cold the rest of the time.

It provides him with shelter from the outside world.

But it traps him in, like a caged animal.

Love, hate—day in and day out. And right now, standing against the railing of the balcony with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips and the wind whipping at his back, it’s hate.

The light’s ready for the dusk that’s beginning to settle on the harbor. Dean’s cleaned the lens and brewed the meths. He turned on the tap, set a match to the mantle. The routine is so familiar, he could do it in his sleep. The light rotates behind him, illuminating his back briefly before turning its watchful eye to the rest of the harbor.

Bright, dark. Bright, dark. Around and around like a carousel.

Him and this lighthouse go way back, like a bad relationship that he can’t quit. When John moved him and Sam to Kittery and started work on this light, Bobby would bring Sam and Dean to visit during the fortnightly supply runs. Every visit was like a further punch to the gut to remind him of what he’d lost. It wasn’t like the light they’d all lived at when Dean’s mom was alive, with a cozy house that always smelled like freshly baked bread. This was a cold, sterile environment that smelled like three guys living in close quarters. And John—

He could barely look Dean and Sam in the eye when they visited.

After a few months at Whaleback, John seemed to relax into the work and his smile came more easily, but Dean would smell the whiskey on his breath.

After a while, Bobby stopped taking Sam and Dean at all.

The lighthouse took John and swallowed him whole. During his brief few days of shore leave, he’d just sit with a bottle at the table. Dean came to dread it, since it meant that the money he’d squirreled away in the coffee can on top of the cupboard would inevitably be pilfered for booze money.

Dean doesn’t know why he’s thinking about all of this, or about John. Maybe it’s because of where he’s currently standing.

Muttering a curse, Dean pulls the zippo out of his pocket and lights the cigarette.

“Got you.”

Dean turns as his brother comes onto the walkway, collar popped and hands deep into his coat pockets. His cheeks are already pinched red from the cold.

Dean adopts an easy posture, arms settling on the railing as he leans back with a grin. It hides the bitter taste of nostalgia still on his tongue. “I said I wanted to quit, not that I was going to quit.”

Sam rolls his eyes, then joins Dean at the railing. “Light all set?”

“Yup. Everything’s good. Go get some shut-eye.”

“I thought it was my shift tonight.”

Dean shrugs a shoulder. “Not tired. I can take the whole night.”

“You took the whole shift last night, too,” Sam says with a frown. “What about that chamomile tea Bobby brought last week? Did you try that?”

“Not drinkin’ a flower. I’ll sleep the old-fashioned way.”

“Clearly that’s not working.”

“I’ll take the shift tonight.” Dean levels his brother with a stare. “Okay?”

Lips twisted into a frown, wind sweeping at his hair, Sam suddenly looks like a younger snot-nosed version that had that same miserable look when Dean tried to tell him that Dad volunteered himself for a double shift that month. Before the Coast Guard took over during the war, things were more relaxed—less regulated. John was able to take all the double, triple shifts as he pleased, drinking himself stupid with all the bootlegged liquor in the cellar.

It always upset Sam, when their dad didn’t come home. He was a sensitive kid.

Just like all those years ago, Dean’s heart is punched out with a desire to make that frown leave Sam’s face.

“You wanna sneak back with Bobby tomorrow when he comes for the supply run? Go see Eileen? I can cover things here.”

Sam rolls his eyes with a scoffed laugh. “That’s a pretty terrible first impression to make on the new keeper Bobby’s bringing in.”

Fuck. Dean had forgotten about that. “That’s tomorrow?” he asks with a wince.

“Yes, and we need him to last more than a week, unlike the last guy. Otherwise the Coast Guard is not going to let us have a say in who comes or stays anymore.”

“Last guy was a pansy,” Dean grumbles around his cigarette.

“You punched him in the face, Dean.”

Dean glares out at the thin line of the distant shore and doesn’t reply.

“Since you’re a vet, they’re taking it easy on us,” Sam continues, “but Bobby was talking to someone up in a higher rank the other day and—I think this is our last chance.” He clears his throat. “Your last chance.”

“The hell you mean?” Dean asks, drawing up to a straight back. “They’re gonna sack me?”

“Move you, I think. To a solo light on the shore.”

Dean throws up a hand. “Well, fine. Let them. What’s the problem?”

There’s that miserable look again. Sam won’t raise his head as the unspoken words hang between them. Dean stays silent, challenging Sam to say it.

“You know what the problem is, Dean,” Sam quietly says.

Yeah. Dean knows. He knows that without Sam, Dean at a solo light would probably end with him hanging from the rafters.

Blowing out a drag of smoke into the wind, Dean hunches back over the railing. “I’ll try,” he concedes. “But if he’s a dumbass—”

“Then I’ll train him,” Sam interjects. “You don’t even have to be in the same room as him. We’ll put him on the early morning shifts, make him sleep in the afternoons.”

Dean huffs out a laugh. “Make him stay in the service room listening to the radio.”

A grin forming on Sam’s face, he adds, “Tell him that shore leave is ten days instead of four so he stays off the lighthouse for longer.”

“Yeah, the Coast Guard won’t notice that.”

“Whatever it takes for you to cohabitate with this guy, I say we do it,” Sam says with a shrug. “Get creative.”

Dean makes a move to flick the stub of his cigarette away; Sam grabs his arm to stop him. “I just cleaned the gallery, Dean.” With a scowl, Dean tosses it into the ocean instead.

Sam runs a hand through his messy hair and sighs, the disapproval evident in his frown. “Need anything before I go down to the bunks?”

“Nah. Get some sleep, Sammy.” Dean gives his brother a smack on the chest in dismissal. “I’ll wake you for the morning shift.”

“Okay, but actually wake me this time. Don’t let me sleep in until nine.”

Dean taps out another cigarette from the carton he fishes out of his pocket. “No promises.”

“And let me actually make breakfast tomorrow, too!” Sam calls before he disappears through the door.

“I would if your eggs weren’t shit!” Dean barks back. His words are snatched up by the wind. He turns back toward the ocean, clicking the lighter as he holds it up to the cigarette butt. “Seriously, who raised you?”

Blowing out another puff of smoke, the cigarette still caught between his teeth, Dean eyes the shoreline. Their new keeper is probably staying at Bela’s place, if it’s still even running. The inn nearly went under last year after her parents declared bankruptcy. He ran with her a few times in high school before he cut town—she was sharp around the edges. Misunderstood. Just like him.

He remembers the new guy’s resume. It had stood out to him among the rest, mainly because he seemed the least qualified. Didn’t make sense at all why the Coast Guard chose him as the new rookie, when five men before him—way more experienced, to boot—didn’t last.

No family, no money. Maybe that’s why they took him. That’s better, for these stag lights—bunch of single men with no families means there’s a better chance of them staying. It’s why the Coast Guard is itching to get a new keeper for the light, what with them eyeing recently married Sam, and Eileen, who’s in the family way.

It would make more sense for Sam to leave, get a position at a light with a house. Where he could see his family every night.

What Sam and Dean used to have, before Mary died.

Dean runs a hand down his face, letting out a curse. Whatever the word is for wishing for a time that he can’t get back to, ever—that’s what tonight is. Memories he didn’t ask for turning around and around in his head like a wheel. That’s what the sea does when you look out into it: shimmers back at you, showing you what you want to see. And sometimes what you don’t.

The door behind him creaks open again. With a grumble, Dean lets out a breath of smoke, a reprimand on his tongue for Sam to get the hell to bed.

A bang echoes through the air.

Dean drops his cigarette in surprise, whipping around to face the door. It yawns open, mercilessly blowing in the wind, banging against the side. Dean strides over to it and pulls it firmly closed before it breaks one of the windows.

The lens, green and opaque, flashes across his eyes; he squints as the light rotates away. Turning back to the railing, spots dotting his vision, he sees a shadow.

One taller than him, broader; stumbling toward the railing with a groan.

Dean closes his eyes, briefly; chest constricting. A trick of the light. It happens.

“It’s haunted!” one of the failed keepers had shouted as he stuffed his clothes into a carpetbag, stumbling down the stairs. “This place is fucking haunted!”

But that keeper had got it wrong—it wasn’t the lighthouse doing the haunting.

It was the person inside of it.

#where there is darkness #destiel lighthouse keepers au #destiel #THE HACKERS WILL NOT WIN #HERE'S SOME GAY STUFF

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brandogenius · 1 month

Note

oh we NEED smth abt grumpy!masc!readers first time crying in front of julien

-🦧

imma write this one before i go to bed hehehe it is 1am but this is all i can think about rn RAHHH

‼️RPF‼️

BLURB - julien x masc grumpy reader - first time crying

- the first time reader cried in front of julien was actually during a fight 😭

- back and forth between each other for the past three days. what was the cause? they both don’t even remember. all they know is tensions were high in the house. any small thing would set them off into a screaming match

- it was about different things. right now julien was shouting at masc because they went out for a smoke (even after promising jb they wouldn’t smoke anymore) to cope with the stress and constant anxiety

- reader has been worried sick with anxiety for the past few days. obviously they won’t show it. worried julien might end up leaving and never coming back. or calling it quits.

- it was something reader worried about deep inside. about people abandoning them. getting too attached to people for them to end up leaving. it’s why they close their walls up and shove people away. a facade to stop getting close to people. yet julien was the one who managed to break the walls down just a tiny bit

- masc grumpy reader watching julien shout and point a finger. reader ignoring jb. not wanting to reply or fight. in their head thinking keeping silent would be better.

- yes it hurts and it’s tiring to fight with your partner but reader won’t stand there and be shouted at for having one cigarette

- julien just walking out of the room and stomping upstairs. reader hot on julien’s tail. anxiety and dread filling their stomach like “where the fuck are you going?” and julien’s in the bedroom taking a suitcase out of the wardrope like “if you’re not gonna listen to me then i’m leaving”

- reader standing there like “no- no you can’t” and julien’s like “idc” and at this point reader is standing at the door like with tears in their eyes trying to stop them from rolling down their face. you know with that lump in your throat you can’t talk or you’ll end up sobbing

- julien with her back faced reader, packing her shorts but hears this sniff and a small “please” and turning around and staring in shock at reader who’s curled in on themselves in the doorframe, eyes red and puffy as tears roll down their face, avoiding julien’s gaze

- julien who hasent seen reader ever cry or show well? emotions of sadness before is kinda just sat on the floor in shock. maybe she remembers and knows that masc grumpy reader has a hard time with people leaving / getting attached.

- julien standing up and rushing over to reader like “i’m sorry- it’s ok- i’m here” and just her heart breaking as reader collapses and breaks down, holding onto julien like it’s the only thing she has.

- reader who doesn’t initiate physical contact first other than a small hug or resting their hand on julien’s thigh. having them cry into her chest was something that HURT

- rubbing their back like “i’m not gonna go anywhere- i promise” and reader who holds into jbs shirt even tighter like “don’t go”

- bringing reader over to the bed, both lying down on it. the only time masc grumpy reader would ever be little spoon in this situation ngl

- reader tiring themselves out and end up passing out on julien’s chest. julien sat there with tears in her own eyes. it hurt to see reader crumble like this. promising to talk about it in the morning

(i’m open to turning this into a fic 👁️ if y’all want one. where first part i can expand on this ^^ more. getting more lore for masc grumpy reader)

#pom writes #orangutan anon the bestest #julien baker x reader #julien baker x masc!reader #julien baker headcanons #julien baker au #julien baker fanfic #julien baker angst #julien baker one shot #julien baker blurb #julien baker fluff #boygenius x reader #boygenius fanfic #boygenius au #boygenius one shot

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fandomnsfw · 1 year

Text

Paris - Stefan Salvatore x Reader

Pairing: Stefan x Reader

Prompt: Request! – ‘Can I request a Stefan Salvatore x reader where he and the reader are really close and in a half ways relationship, it's clear that they both really love each other but they also just need a tiny shove to make it official. They could be traveling the world together and one of them realizes it in the heat of the moment and you can decide exactly how it ends :)’ (Also inspired by Paris - The Chainsmokers)

Warning: Smut….no hard-core stuff today sorry!

ENJOY!!

*****

You strolled onto the balcony staring at the sunrise as you sipped on your coffee. You heard Stefan enter the room but chose to keep looking at the beautiful view. Since you got to Paris things had been different between you two but you couldn’t quite figure out why. You knew he was behind you but he stayed silent. Suddenly you heard the click of the Polaroid camera you took everywhere. You turned round and saw a picture printing out. You shook your head chuckling as he smiled at you with his eyebrows raised playfully.

You sipped your coffee as you observed the people who were moving around the streets. It was still very quiet and because of this it was your favourite time of day to relax. Stefan stood behind you leaning down and hugging you without saying anything. You loved moments like this, because it meant you didn’t have to admit what was happening, you just got to live in the moment.

Paris was your last stop but you still had 3 weeks left there. It made you sad that your traveling was coming to an end but at the same time you missed your friends. You’d been traveling with Stefan for nearly 6 months and you enjoyed it, seeing all the different cultures. Stefan was your best guy friend and you couldn’t ask for better company.

You leaned against him as he played with the ends of your hair, his rough hand occasionally brushing against your exposed shoulder. Today the plan was to go shopping and just explore, you’d only been in Paris for 2 days and so far you hadn’t seen much because you’d been tired from all the traveling. So you and Stefan had just stayed in your hotel room.

“I’m gonna miss this.” Stefan’s voice finally cut through the silence. You nodded in agreement before standing up, his hands sliding away from you as you did. He looked at you with a soft smile which you returned before walking back into your shared room. It was a nice room it had two separate bedrooms and a small kitchen/dining room but it was cute and you loved it the moment you saw it.

You searched through your bag as soon as you arrived to your room. You and Stefan never took suitcases because wherever you went you could just buy the clothes you needed. That was one thing you couldn’t wait for, you’d told Stefan you wouldn’t bring any clothes home except when you went to Paris. You told him you would be sending everything home.

You picked out a pair of light orange hi-waist shorts, a black lace corset style crop top a thick gold statement bracelet with a matching statement necklace and a pair of plain white pointy toed heels. You smiled at the outfit choice before making your way out into the main area. Stefan was dress and looked up from his phone as soon as you came out. He scanned over your outfit as you slipped on your sunglasses and smiled softly before standing up and offering you his arm, you took it smiling to yourself.

You made your way through the now bustling streets, looking through shop windows until you came to one that had a pair of shoes that caught your eye. They were a texture champagne gold, you couldn’t stop staring they were absolutely gorgeous. You felt Stefan drag you into the shop before he stop at the first shop assistant he saw. You knew immediately what shop you were in and you couldn’t contained your smile, Christian Louboutin. You’d been in a few designer boutiques on your travels but you had yet to be in a Christian Louboutin store which is surprising because they’re everywhere. It’s not like you’d never seen a Louboutin boutique because with 900 years in this world you were there when the brand was created. As Stefan spoke to the assistant you gazed around with wide eyes, before being pulled over to some seats.

You sat down as the woman brought over the same shoes you had been looking at. You looked at Stefan as if asking if it was okay, he nodded so you took the shoes from her and looked at them. They were gorgeous but you wouldn’t expect anything less from Christian Louboutin. You slid off your shoes before carefully putting the gold shoes on. After they were on you stood up with ease and looked down at the gorgeous shoes, you glanced at Stefan who was smiling at you.

“We’ll take these please.” He told the assistant how nodded and accepted the card that Stefan had just handed her.

“Stefan I can buy it.” You groaned softly.

“So can I.” Stefan chuckled.

“Stefan I’m about 800 years older than you I think I can buy my own Louboutin’s.”

“I’m buying them so get over it.” He grunted as the assistant brought back his card giving you a shoe box for your old shoes.

After a few more hours your shopping bags had finally gotten too much to carry so you decided to go back to the hotel. Once you arrived back Stefan told you to go change, telling you that’s you’d be going out somewhere nice for dinner. You pulled out your Dior black off the shoulder gown and your new pair of red Louboutin’s. You curled your hair and put on simple makeup with red lipstick before exiting your room. Stefan was stood there in his new black Armani three piece suit, he looked amazing. You smiled as he stared at you in momentary shock before clearing his throat and offering his arm once again.

You made your way to the car that was waiting to take you to your destination, you looked out the window and stared at the pretty lights that lit everything up as you slowly pulled up to the restaurant. Stefan got out first before going round to your side and opening the door, holding his hand out dutifully. As you strolled into the restaurant you realised everyone’s eyes were on Stefan which made you smile and lean over, you lips almost brushing against his ear.

“Everyone’s staring at you.” You chuckled before pulling away and grinning at him.

“Actually they’re staring at you.” He whispered making you look up in disbelief. You looked around and realised he was telling the truth. You blushed and gripped Stefan’s arm tighter, trying to ignore the stares.

You were lead to your table, by a guy who looked like he was in his mid-twenties, he was very good looking but then you soon realised that most of the waiters and staff were just as if not more good looking. The waiter tried to pull out your chair but Stefan beat him to it which made you smile up at him. You felt your heart flutter slightly as his hand brushed against the exposed part of your back, you shivered slightly and turned to the view you had from the window seat. Stefan quickly took his seat before ordering a bottle of wine. You turned to look at him as soon as the waiter disappeared, his eyes were half closed as if he was thinking about something.

“You look really beautiful.” He glanced at you with something you couldn’t quite place but the stare only made you blush once again.

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” You whispered back playfully, moving your hair to one side exposing more of your skin.

As you and Stefan joked and spoke about anything and everything you didn’t realised you’d got through a three course meal and 2 bottles of wine. Stefan decided that you’d had enough wine when you started giggling at almost everything he was saying.

As you walked through the quiet peaceful streets of Paris you clung to Stefan arm, your head resting against his shoulder. You stopped to take of your heels before stepping onto the grass right in front of the Eiffel Tower. You spun around, your arms spread wide as you felt the light breeze brush across your skin. Suddenly you were off the ground, Stefan had tackled you and thrown you over his shoulder as he started running around. You squealed clutching his back, giggling as he spun around before carefully placing you down.

He grabbed you waist and hand before he started dancing to non-existent music, you laughed along with him as he spun you round before dipping you. As he brought you back up you realised your noses were touching, his strong arms wrapped around your waist tightly. You glanced down at his lips before you looked into his eyes, they held the same look as in the restaurant but you still couldn’t place what it was.

Your head was spinning as his hand came up to brush your cheek gently, if you weren’t concentrating on his every move you wouldn’t of even known he’d touched you. His thumb slid down your cheek before brushing lightly against your bottom lip causing you mouth to open slightly. Your eyes flicked back to his lips before speaking.

“Kiss me.” You whispered so quietly if he wasn’t a vampire you were sure he wouldn’t have heard you. He didn’t respond with word but chose to obey your request. He leant in a little more you lips finally meeting in a sweet loving kiss. After a few seconds your courage grew, your hands now sliding up his chest to lock around neck as you deepened the kiss, your lips moving against his in perfect rhythm. One of his hands resting on your cheek as his other was gripping your hip. You pulled away reluctantly, opening your eyes to meet his.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realise it before.” Stefan whispered smiling slightly, his thumb making circles on your cheek, you looked at him with a questioning glance waiting for him to elaborate.

“I am in love with you.” You stared at him in shock as he started grinning for ear to ear. He pulled back slightly but not letting go of you, he slung his head back and screamed at the top of his lung.

“I AM IN LOVE WITH Y/N Y/L/N!!” You blushed as you saw a few people glance over at you but you couldn’t help but laugh at his antics.

“Do I not get to add my two cents?” You chuckled as his head came back down, his grin still firmly in place. He tilted his head as if waiting for my response to his very loud confession. You pulled him down for a chaste kiss before looking into his eyes once again.

“I love you too.” You whispered, your cheeks tinted with pink but you didn’t care because it felt like a weight had been lifted.

He raised one of his brows at you before he gripped you waist and spun you around making you squeal. You laughed as he finally put you down, his hand grabbing yours as you began walking. Stefan called the car to come and pick you up so you could go home.

As you got back into the apartment Stefan picked you up bridal style and made his way to his bedroom. He threw you on the bed before playfully flopping down next to you causing you to laugh. He leant up to rest on his left elbow as his hand brushed your curls away, his smile was soft and loving making you finally realise what that look he’d been giving you all night was. It was love, pure undeniable love.

You rolled over so you were straddling his waist, looking down at him with a loving smile. His hand reached up to cup your cheek before bring you down for a passion filled kissed, your hand resting on his chest as he kissed you with more passion than you’d ever felt in your life. You felt his hand move to the back of your dress, carefully unzipping the dress making it pool across Stefan’s suit covered torso. You reached down to start unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt since his blazer had been discarded before her picked you up. He sat up so you could pull everything off, his lips placing soft kisses across your chest.

He flipped you both round before ridding you of your dress leaving you in no bra and a black lace thong. You flipped back over after your dress was gone, his hands slid down the sides of your waist before they reached you ass. He groaned when he realised you had a thong on which made you giggle softly, he looked up with a playful smirk on his face before he flipped you and pinned you to the bed jokingly growling and nipping at your neck, making you smile and giggle at his actions.

“Stefan?” His head snapping up at the sound of his name.

“Make love to me.” You whispered slightly out of breathe from laughing. He nodded before he leaned down kissing you shoulder, his lips trailing down your body causing shivers to erupt through your body. His hands roamed your body as if trying to memorize every inch of your skin. You ran you hand through his hair as he leaned down to kiss you, his lips being cautious with every move they took.

His hand slid down to your panties, looking up to check it was okay before sliding underneath them once he got approval. His index finger running across your entrance making him groan in approval. He slid in one finger with ease causing you to gasp of approval, your back hips bucking up in an attempt to feel fuller. Stefan took this as a hint and slid in another finger in, moving his thumb to circle your clit as he pushed his fingers in and out slowly.

“S-Stefan.” His name falling from you lips as you felt your orgasm nearing. You gripped his wrist and pulled him away which caused him to look up at you with confusion.

“I-I want to cum with you.” You stuttered quietly, looking at him shyly. He smiled at you tenderly before taking the initiative, slipping out of his Armani pants and Calvin Klein boxers. He then moved to slid down your black lace undies before he moved between your legs, wrapping them around his waist. His hand caressed your face as if asking you if it was okay. You nodded in response before wrapping your arms around his shoulders which made him lower so you were almost chest to chest.

He carefully aligned himself before he steadily entered your heat, he bit his lip groaning slightly. You whimpered against his neck, his hand running through your hair as he whispered sweet words into your ear. Once you’d adjusted he started thrusting into you slowly, his hands still touching your body sweetly. You quiet moans filled the room along with his soft pants, he moved back a little so he could see you, his thrusts becoming more firm but remaining loving. He leant down to kiss you as he gripped your hips tightly as if trying to control himself. You kissed him back running your hand through his hair as his thrust sped up a lightly.

You felt yourself start to build once more, your grip on his hair tightening which he apparently took as a hint because he moved one hand between you both and started circling your clit slowly. You bucked against him, your nails digging into his shoulders as if trying to ground yourself.

“M’Close…S-Stefan.” You moaned against his lips as he pulled away slightly, your lips still touching slightly.

“Me too.” He groaned as you whispered in his ear ‘Harder’. He sped up as you felt yourself near the edge.

“Cum for me Y/N.” He whispered against your lips before nibbling your lip slightly. That’s all it took for you to fall over the edge, your walls clenching around him caused him to follow you. You both rode out your orgasm until you were both worn out and sensitive. He pulled out, collapsing next to you. He pulled you into him, your head resting on his chest as your panting dissipated.

*****

The next 3 weeks were like a dream filled with love, morning sex and laughs but it was finally time to leave. You were sad but you knew you couldn’t ignore the fact you had friends and family at home. You turned to Stefan as he signed a piece of paper which was to confirm the location that the boxes of clothes were going. You smiled as he finished and made his way over to you then you remembered something.

“Oh yeah don’t forget we have to stop by New Orleans before we go home.” You stated happily as you walked to the car that was waiting for you.

“Ugh. Do we have to?” Stefan huffed childishly causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yes I promised ‘Lijah and Nik.” In the 900 years you’d known this family they had always been the only constant. You didn’t care for thing like love usually but with Stefan it was different, you felt like a human when you were with him.

“Fine. It’s a good job I love you.” Stefan groaned as we got into the sleek black car.

*****

“Niklaus Mikaelson! Put that bloody teenage girl down. NOW!” You roared as you entered the original mansion to see Nik’s hand around a petite brunet teen’s throat.

“Y/N! Your home!” Nik dropped the girl and came over to hug you but you avoided his arms as you went to check on the young girl.

“Are you okay sweetie?” You asked softly, her fearful nod made you turn to back to Niklaus with a glare. You stood up and stormed over to the nearest metal object picking it up before winding Niklaus with the metal bar. He curled up in a ball as you smacked his spine it, before you kicked his chest so he was laying on his back. You dug your spikey black Louboutin’s into his chest bone making him wince.

“I suggest you apologise to her and have the cooks make her some bloody food! Do you hear me Niklaus!?” You screamed you heel digging into his chest causing him to start bleeding as it cut through the skin.

“Okay!” He screamed as he tried to pry your foot off him.

“Even I feel sorry for you right now. And I hate you.” You heard Stefan’s voice cut through your rage making you smile.

“Divina I am very sorry. Would you like to stay for dinner?” Klaus mumbled quietly, his embarrassment evident. She looked shocked but nodded carefully.

“Oh your Marcel’s daughter right? You should have him come too. I haven’t seen him in years.” You sighed before making your way into Stefan’s arms.

****

You all sat around the dinner table, you sat in between Stefan and Nik, with you at the end of the table. Divina sat quietly next to Marcel as if they would want to be anywhere else.

“So let me get this straight, Marcel didn’t die but instead of finding his family he stole your city and now you’re fighting over it?” You raised your left eyebrow at them as they nodded like scolded children.

“Oh he also summoned your father with the very blonde Bex and you also have a miracle baby.” You huffed as you pointed at the gorgeous little one year old who was chomping on some mashed potato.

“Marcellus Mikaelson.” He flinched as his names fell from your lips, his eyes widening slightly.

“Nik, ‘Lijah and I built this city! If you and ditz over there hadn’t of summoned their father we would be staying here! You had over this city and come live with your family before I kill every single minion you have! Do you understand me?” You snapped your voice one of an angry parent.

“Thank you!” Klaus exclaimed like he’d won which made you glance over at him with a raise brow.

“Don’t think you’ve won! Don’t pretend you were the king here! You were the prince! I was the Queen remember that Niklaus! I also do not appreciate the fact you tried to kill Marcel several times! He is family and if I see you bickering with each other again I will snap your necks repeatedly!”

“Well said Y/N.” Elijah huffed but you turned to him with an unamused look.

“Elijah do not think you are off the hook! You went along with Nik’s charade! You also accused your own brother of using his bloody child! You are the oldest! Act like it! And YOU!” You switched your attention to Bekah who was trying to escape the table.

“Next time you want to try and betray your brother remember this moment! Marcel you are free to be with Rebekah. No more betrayal! Understood!?” They all murmured ‘yes’ before going back to their food before Hayley finally spoke up.

“Well that was dramatic.” She sassed before feeding hope another mouthful. Before she could blink you dragged her away from the child, your hand around her throat as your pinned her against the wall.

“And you! Stop switching from Jackson to Elijah! They are not toys so don’t treat them as such! You have a child you should set an example! Not throw yourself at any man you can! So either stay away from Elijah or give Jackson up and be with Elijah!” You snarled as she choked against you grip, you heard Elijah snapping at you to let her go but you just stared into Hayley’s eyes. She nodded and you released her.

“Bex could you switch seats with Divina please.” You muttered as you sat back down.

“Why?” She questioned softly.

“Because I know you and my boyfriend have a past and I don’t want you in a 3 meter radius.” You deadpanned which caused Nik to start laughing as Elijah tried to cough to cover his smile up.

“Seriously!?”

“When did you turn into Caroline?” You snorted as she swapped seats with Divina. You nodded at Divina before digging your fork into a cut up piece of steak before holding it up to Stefan’s lips. He chuckled at you taking the steak, leaning over to give you a chaste kiss before moving back to chew his steak.

“What did I miss?” You heard a cheeky voice as from behind you which made you choke on your wine. There stood your old flame Kol Mikaelson.

“I don’t want you within 3 meters of Y/N.” Stefan joked which made everyone start laughing.

#stefan salavatore x reader #stefan salvatore #stefan salvatore x you #reader insert #reader #smut #fluff #traveling #vampire diaries #tvd #the vampire diaries #the originals #the mikaelsons #stefan imagine #stefan x reader #imagine #request

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blu3cl0v3rs · 7 months

Text

Summary: Why fly in planes when you're the Elemental Master of Wind?

Warnings: Reckless actions, possible unwritten near death situations

Prompt: Suitcase | Airport | "Did you pack yet?"

Extra: You know the drill, set in a generic "Revived Morro lives w/ the Ninja" AU during any time after DotD. Also, I'm so sorry this is late-

"Did you pack yet?" Nya's voice echoed down the hall to her brother.

Her brother who apparently hasn't packed within the 4 whole months since we finalized the trip plans. Morro sighed, leaned against the wall of the monastery near P.I.X.A.L., Zane, Cole, and Wu. The others all scurried around inside to find some item or another as Nya scolded them or pointed out that Lloyd, your toothpaste is not in the kitchen; you don't need three bottles of hairspray, Kai; Jay, stop trying to pack that motherboard, you won't use it.

The wind elemental could feel the rage that radiated off his sibling element. An instinctive part of him wanted to reach out and comfort her through the wind, but he knows there's fondness in her frustration.

After some long minutes and at least two screeches, everyone was ready to go; which meant now they all awkwardly toted their suitcases as they tramped downstairs.

Morro resisted the urge to jump off the mountain and use the wind to cushion his landing.

They boarded a large custom built vehicle after shoving everyone's luggage into the trunk and drove off to the airport. Conversation fluttered around Morro as he listened to the muffled breeze on the other side of the glass window and some weirdly calming music Zane recommended him. The ex-ghost had been working on self-improvement and "anger management", or "feeling bombs" as Kai said.

"So, what's a plane?" Morro offhandedly asked. The thing sounded familiar, but since he spent most of his teen years up in the monastery (and 40 years as a ghost) he's a bit behind on technology.

"Think of a giant metal tube with wings. That's what it looks like. It's used to transport people far distances. Usually we'd use Destiny's Bounty, but it was destroyed during Garmadon's invasion," Zane explained.

"And why was Jay adamant that I need to fly on one?" Morro raised his eyebrow.

"Hey! Planes are awesome, and everyone deserves the joy of flying in a plane!" Jay piped as he crossed his arms.

"I can fly perfectly fine by myself," Morro huffed as the wind gusted the car in unison.

"No offense, Morro, but I don't think you could outfly a plane," Kai said from the seat in front of him.

"Is that a challenge?" Morro growled.

Remember how he said he had been working on his anger management? Yeah, emphasis on working.

"I can already see his gravestone: 'Rest in peace Morro. Died because he tried to race a plane'," Jay joked, hands out in front of him as if he was touching something invisible.

"Hey, if he can, I'll pay for everything on his end."

Wu sighed from his spot in the passenger's seat, "Just be careful, and watch where you're flying."

The Ninja spluttered, all saying something along the lines of "you're allowing this?!"

"Let me put it this way," he stroked his beard, "if you thought taking Lloyd's candy away was difficult, changing Morro's mind is… more or less impossible. The amount of stubbornness he has is more than all of yours multiplied together."

"And that is quite a lot," P.I.X.A.L. pointed out from the driver's seat.

Long story short, Morro was found in the airport's parking lot, panting and wheezing with hairs stuck to his face from the speed and sweat from exertion, lying on top of a royal blue car two whole hours before the Ninja landed.

Kai paid for everything Morro wanted on the trip.

#ninjago #morro #ninjago morro #morro ninjago #morro master of wind #morrotober #morrotober 2023 #morro wu #lloyd ninjago #lego ninjago #nya ninjago #cole ninjago #kai ninjago #jay ninjago #zane ninjago #wu ninjago #ninjago pixal #ninjago fanfiction

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starlitangels · 11 months

Text

The Power of Words

I can, apparently, only ever write ficlets for these two, not full fics. Enjoy? 736 words

CW: heated verbal argument

—

“There’s nothing stopping you from leaving, y’know. Least of all me,” I remarked.

Guy swore, paused his game, dropped his controller, and whipped his head to stare at me. “What—and I mean this with the utmost affection—the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

I shrugged. “If you wanna break up with me, I’d respect that.”

“I don’t—where did that—respect—the f—honey what are you talking about?!” Guy spluttered.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know I could hear you yesterday.”

Guy’s confused expression dropped. “Oh God. What did I say?”

I dug my fingernails into the skin of the apple I’d been munching on as my grip tightened on it. Juice spurted from the punctures. “Something to the effect of ‘you shackled yourself to a cruel, unreasonable taskmaster’.”

Guy stared, greenish-blue eyes wide and eyebrows attempting to disappear into his hairline. “Did I really say that?”

My other hand dropped to the dining table. The thick, heavy ring on my middle finger clanked hard against the wood. “Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were saying,” I snapped. My nails dug deeper into the meat of the apple. “Mr. Vocab King or whatever the hell you’ve called yourself before.”

Guy kept staring. Slack-jawed. “Baby… you know me. I speak before I think and I exaggerate to be funny.”

“Oh so you don’t consider yourself shackled to me but you do think you’re stuck with me in some way that’s just barely lesser than steel chains. Great.” I used my hand on the table to shove to my feet.

Guy scrambled to his, following me down the short hall to where I stormed into our bedroom. “Honey, no. Never—”

I clenched my jaw around grabbing my overnight bag out from the back corner of the closet where it had been shoved. “You—of all people, Guy—should know the power of words.” I grabbed a couple shirts off their hangers and threw them at where I’d opened the small suitcase on the floor.

Guy seemed to realize what I was doing. “What—why are you packing?”

“Because you think you’re chained to me and decided to finally admit it in the middle of a monologue against decorating. After we’ve been together for almost two years.” I yanked open a drawer in my dresser and snatched jeans out, adding them to the pile. “So I’m giving you space to decide what you actually want without the pressure of my domineering wickedness hanging over you. Or whatever you said yesterday.”

Guy was going along behind me, putting my stuff back where it belonged. “I didn’t mean any of it like that, hon, I swear—”

Until I grabbed the shoulder of his T-shirt and shoved him against the wall. “Stop. That,” I snarled. “I’m going to go spend the night at my brother’s while you figure yourself out.”

“Is this why you were still awake at two-AM last night?”

I let go of his shirt and rolled my eyes with a scoff. “Leave it to you to change the subject.”

“I don’t consider myself stuck with you,” Guy shot back. “I love you. I’m happy with you.”

“Happy? With the person who rations affection like it’s a non-renewable resource and forces you to decorate.” I scoffed. “Sure.” I pulled the hoodie of mine he’d been trying to hang back up out of his hands. “You may consider yourself an insufferable headache but we both know I’m the one that’s hard to live with.” I threw the hoodie back in the suitcase. “I’ll see you on Monday, Guy. I’ll say hi to my brother for you.” I grabbed some socks and the shirts he’d put back on their hangers in the closet and dumped them all in before zipping it up. “Think about the power of words while I’m gone and what you actually want out of this relationship, hmm? I’m in it for the long haul. If that’s not for you, I’ll respect that. But at least be an adult and tell me to my face. I get that you love me. But think some things over while I’m at my brother’s.” I zipped up the bag and shouldered past him out of our room, dragging it behind me. I shoved my feet into my boots and grabbed my wallet and keys. “I love you too.”

“Honey—”

I ripped open the door and slammed it shut behind me before he could say anything else.

#cw: angst #redacted asmr #redacted audio #ficlet #Redacted Guy #Redacted Honey #Redacted Pizza Guy #Starlit Fic

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skybluewritings · 1 year

Text

Plane- Pope Heyward x fem!reader

Description: (Name) ends up at the same college as her former academic rival Pope and is forced to share a flight with him.

AN: References to panic attack.

She took a swig of beer from the red solo cup, the burn of the alcohol warming her throat. She had felt prepared for tonight when she had slipped on a cute bodycon dress and her favourite denim jacket. She scanned the crowded party, wishing she hadn’t lost her roommate. A strange shyness crept over her as she helplessly looked to the different clumps of people talking.

Back in Kildare she’d had no problem at parties, it was easy to know what to say. But here at Columbia she felt completely out of her depth. Everyone seemed so much more older and wiser than her, despite also being freshman. For as long as she could remember she had wanted to escape to a different life, now more than anything she longed for a familiar face. And the universe listened to her.

In the corner of the room looking just as lost as she felt stood-Pope Heyward? He was staring reflectively into his own solo cup as he swirled it with his wrist. He was wearing blue jeans and a navy Kildare jumper. It was a far cry from his usual shorts and loose fitting t-shirts. She longed for her own Kildare jumper, which was still shoved at the bottom of her suitcase.

She supposed it wasn’t all that surprising that Pope would attend the same college as her. He was insanely intelligent. They had been in a lot of the same advanced classes before she had transferred to Kildare academy in her Junior year. Despite having a reputation as a fairly nice guy, a smug smile would spread across his stupidly handsome face every time he beat her for top of the class. She had once been so mad the pencil in her hand had nearly snapped in two. Past annoyances aside it was relieving to see someone she knew.

The ground was sticky under her new nike shoes, as she made her way across the tightly packed room. She hoped it was just beer.

“Pope hey.” She said.

He ignored her continuing to investigate his cup. He probably hadn’t heard her over the music.

“Pope hey.” She said again, still no reply.

She moved closer to him. “Pope!” It came out louder than she had expected.

He let out a gasp, his cup falling to the floor. His brown eyes snapping straight to her.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to startle you!” She apologised bending down to collect his discarded cup.

She pressed the cup into his hands, his jaw clenched as he looked inside it. “It’s empty.”

She let out a nervous laugh. “Sorry, I guess I overestimated the volume of my own voice.”

“Yep.” He replied in a clipped tone.

It was just beer, she thought to herself skin prickling.

“Anyway, how’re you finding college so far?” She asked brightly.

He shrugged at her. “Well no one’s spoken to me in 15 minutes so.”

“To be fair you aren’t helping yourself brooding in the corner.” She pointed out.

“I’m not brooding, you make me sound like batman.”

“You’ve definitely got the muscles for it.” She teased, immediately regretting it as soon as she’d said it.

It technically wasn’t untrue she’d seen him at the beach a few times surfing, she had found her face heating up when he’d once caught her staring.

“Uh thank you?..”

“Sorry-that was just a joke.” She stammered.

He let out a heavy sigh. “(Name) what do you want? We barely even knew each other back home.”

“That’s not entirely true we went to the same school.” She firmly reminded him.

“Until you pissed off to the kook academy.” He told her.

She desperately wanted to know who put the stick up his ass.

Her lips pressed into a line. “I forgot people still used those words. You know you can drop all that stupid shit, we’re not children anymore. What’s even the problem?”

“That’s easy for you to say, you aren’t the one who has to worry about how you’re gonna keep the lights on in your house. So I’ll stop using them when it stops being a problem.” He icily replied.

Yeah so clearly this conversation was clearly over.

“I’m gonna go get another drink it’s been fun?” She said earning an eye roll from him. “Enjoy college Pope.”

As she walked away from him she hoped she wouldn’t ever have to interact with him anymore at college. And once again the universe worked its magic.

Two and a half years (and many more college parties) later, she was 21 years old on the plane back to North Carolina. It had a been a few months since her last visit and she was excited to go back. She had felt like a different version of herself in New York. Not that it was a bad version, just different.

She usually enjoyed the short flight home. She would engross herself in a new book or gaze out of the window with her music blaring. But this time her usual peaceful journey had been interrupted by a child kicking her seat.

She turned round in her seat. “Excuse me sorry, do you mind asking your child to stop kicking my seat?” She politely asked the boy’s mother.

“He wasn’t kicking your seat.” The woman replied.

“I promise you he was, it’s all I’ve felt the past thirty minutes.” She assured her.

“My son’s a good boy how dare you accuse him of things.” The woman snapped as the boy once more booted her seat.

“See he just did it!” She said in exasperation.

The woman glared at her. “I didn’t see anything.”

She glared back at the woman. “Because you weren’t even looking.“

The boy did it once more she turned to the kid. “I swear to god if you don’t-“

“What's going on?” A familiar voice asked.

Pope stood in the narrow aisle a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Of course he had caught at her yelling at a child.

“Pope hey.” She said far too casually.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

She shamefully sank back into her seat. “Yeah I’m great, what are you up to?”

“Flying home…”

“Oh fun.”

Silence hung between them neither sure how to further the conversation. He then placed his duffle bag in the overhead compartment before falling into the seat next to her.

Her mouth fell open a little. “What-why are you sitting here?”

“It’s my seat.” He explained. “Unfortunately.”

How was she meant to go an entire flight next to him? They were bound to annoy the other as they usually did, every time they interacted.

“Look let’s just keep to ourselves ok? You do your thing and I’ll do mine.” She decided.

“That’s good with me.” He agreed, closing his eyes and getting comfortable in his seat.

And as the plane took flight things became promising. The little boy had stopped kicking her seat and Pope rested. She read her book- until her kindle ran out.

“What no!” She groaned as the device switched off.

“Fucking hell.” She swore softly as she dropped the kindle into her carry on bag.

She pulled out her phone and was horrified to find it only had 5 percent battery. And she’d need that remaining percent to call her parents after the flight.

She had no idea what to do with herself. It wasn’t as if she could just strike up a conversation with her delightful classmate.

She alternated between drumming her manicured nails against the arm rest and flipping open the shutter attached to the small oval window.

“I’m so bored.” She complained to no one in particular.

“Oh my god can you please keep it down?” Pope demanded.

She jumped at his sudden outburst. “I thought you were asleep?!”

“I was until you woke me up with all of your noise.”

“It’s not as if I meant to.” She huffed. “My kindle died.”

He snorted. “Your kindle really?”

“What’s wrong with that?” She asked defensively.

“I don’t know it’s just typical that you of all people would have a kindle.” He laughed unkindly.

She folded her arms across her chest. “All your favourite books in one place what’s wrong with that?!”

“Until it runs out of battery.”

“So what do you suggest I do?”

“Buy a physical book?” He suggested.

She rolled her eyes. “Wow great help you are.”

“I’m full of bright ideas what can I say.” He said dryly.

She needed five minutes away from him or she would scream.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” She told him standing up from her seat.

The plane started to shake from turbulence, she clung onto the headrests in front of her as she moved. A particular jerk sent her hurtling backwards directly into Pope’s lap, a shriek leaving her as she fell.

His eyes were wide. “What are you doing?!”

She swallowed hard. “I fell?”

“Yeah I can see that!”

Her throat tightened. “It was the turbulence!” She stammered.

“Get off of me!” He yelped.

She scrambled off him and bolted to the bathroom. As she slid the lock into place she replayed the moment over and over in her mind. Why did she have to constantly humiliate herself in front of him? And why had his cologne smelt so intoxicatingly good? It was nothing like the smothering cologne of other guys at college. But then she guessed Pope wasn’t like the other guys at college. He never really bragged in lectures or smashed cans of beer against his forehead at parties. He had a lot of friends but seemed to keep to himself. He was smart in a way that was humble (at least with everyone else but her), in the classes they shared. And he was surprisingly snarky.

As she washed her hands the plane began to shake, she quickly dried her hands on one of the cheap paper towels and successfully returned to her seat without anymore incidents. She avoided eye contact with Pope as she shuffled past him, the seat belt sign lit up.

The intercom dinged. “Ladies and Gentleman we’re experiencing a little turbulence, nothing to worry about it, hang tight.” The captain assured them.

“A little, is he serious?!” Pope asked her, as she clicked the clasp of her seat belt together.

“He said it’s nothing to worry about it, I wouldn’t worry.” She replied, mostly trying to convince herself.

The shaking of the plane increased, her chair shuddering underneath her. He suddenly grabbed her hand. She glanced over at him, his eyes were squeezed shut and his chest rising and falling sharply.

“Pope are you ok?”

“It’s happening again.”

“What do you mean again?”

He shook his head. “We’re gonna crash.”

She squeezed his hand gently. “We’re not gonna crash, I promise. It’s going to be ok.”

His grip on her hand tightened. “I can’t breathe.” He whimpered.

“I’ll distract you ok?” He nodded weakly in response.

She wracked her brain for something, anything. “When I was six I was obsessed with the little mermaid. More than anything I wanted to be a mermaid, I never shut up about it really. So one day after school my dad takes me out on his boat tells me we’re gonna go mermaid spotting. We go out pretty far and I see this huge grey tail in the distance slapping against the water.”

His breathing had started to slow, she continued on. “And of course I now know the truth, but back then I was too young to know any different. So I go into school the next day and tell all my friends I saw a mermaid. And they all believed me until you pipe up that it was probably just a whale.”

He opened his eyes. “I think I remember this.” He quietly told her.

She smiled softly. “I should have been upset with you but I just remember thinking how cool it was that you could tell the difference, I thought you were so smart.”

The corners of his mouth tugged up slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah, I still do.”

“For the record I think you’re really smart too.”

Butterflies swam in her stomach. “Thank you.”

The turbulence gradually came to a stop and she found she still holding his hand.

“Oh uh sorry.” He excused dropping her hand.

“It’s okay, I kinda liked it.” She joked, he blinked at her. “Joking of course.”

“Oh right yeah.” He shyly chuckled.

"Why don't you ever talk to me at college?" She asked.

"I wanted to I mean I want to!"

"Then why don't you?"

"I didn't think you wanted me to." He confessed.

"Why wouldn't I want you to, remember that time I tried to talk to you at the party when we were freshmen?" She reminded him.

"Because you're a kook and I'm a-"

"Really you're gonna use those names again?"

"What else am I meant to call it?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I don't know just something that doesn't make me cringe."

He let out a sigh. "Point is I guess I believed you thought you were better than me. But I was wrong. I'm really sorry."

"I forgive you." She smiled. "And for what it's worth I've never believed I was better than you. Besides I actually thought, you thought you were better than me!"

He let out a laugh. "To be honest I just get nervous around pretty girls."

"You think I'm pretty?" She breathed.

"I mean yeah-you're beautiful."

Her pulse quickened. "So are you." She told him.

For a moment the two stared at each other, before Pope cleared his throat. "Anyway did you have a chance to look at the uh safety card?" He blurted out pulling the sheet of plastic from the pocket in front of him.

"No, it didn't cross my mind."

"I think we should take a look at it especially after what just happened!"

The two of them burst into laughter at the absurdity of the entire flight. She would definitely be getting his number before they got off the plane.

#the outer banks #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward #jj maybank #sarah cameron #jiara outer banks #jiara canon #pope x reader #john b routledge #kiara outer banks #one shot #fluff #academic rivals #enemies to lovers #pope heyward x fem!reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months

Text

Running from the Flames {28}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, fluff

F1 Masterlist || Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

April came and went faster than Addie’s growth spurts and our little girl suddenly wasn’t so little anymore. Our three year old couldn’t wait to meet her brother or sister and she had taken her role as a big sister very seriously, preparing herself by carrying around a newborn baby doll wherever she went. It was also how she ‘helped’ me pack for the trip to Baku by shoving all of the doll’s clothes into her suitcase too.

“Sweetheart, you can only pick a few outfits for the doll,” I reminded her as I took the majority out.

“But I want to take them all.” She huffed and crossed her arms defiantly. “Daddy would let me.”

I crossed my arms too. “Daddy is a big softy.”

I knew the moment he stepped into the room behind me as Addie’s face lit up with a beaming smile and she dropped the doll to race towards him.

Pierre caught her as she jumped into his arms before picking up the doll next. “We have to be gentle with babies, mon fille. It would hurt to drop them.”

Addie took her doll back and kissed its forehead. “Besos make it better.”

She was busy catching Pierre up on how we spent our morning while he was at Alpine’s headquarters so she didn’t notice I finished packing her bag alone and prepared to carry it downstairs to the rest of our luggage. “What do you think you’re doing?” Pierre asked as he blocked the door and took the suitcase from my hand. “No heavy lifting.”

“It’s lighter than Addie is, are you going to stop me from carrying her?” I dared.

He chewed his lip as he debated arguing it but the look in my eye stopped him short. “No?”

I rose on my tiptoes and brushed my lips over his softly. “Good answer.”

May meant Monaco, and with Monaco came our first anniversary.

It was hard to believe that it had only been a year since I met Pierre, but there I was, standing in the very same garage I first saw those eyes I had instantly fallen in love with. He had changed my life so significantly that I couldn’t seem to remember the time without him in it.

People told us we moved too fast, even now they still said we wouldn’t last. But it was easy to ignore their comments when I was surrounded by the people I loved and who love me. That list had grown a lot since Pierre entered our lives.

In just one year, Addie had a father, I had a husband and we had a new blessing on the way. One. Year. And we still had a lifetime to go.

“What are you thinking so hard about, mon amour?” Pierre asked as he joined me on the balcony overlooking Massenet corner of the track.

“The first time we sat here.” I took the mug of ginger tea that he had made to settle my stomach, the morning sickness yet to fade completely, and took a seat on the outdoor settee.

“I didn’t think Otmar was going to give me your number that day,” he admitted as he sat beside me and draped one arm along the back of the chair while the other hand came to rest on my abdomen that had popped out a little in the last few weeks. “I may have lied to him about why I wanted it, kind of, I mean I did want to thank you for the gel, but that wasn’t all.”

My lips opened to tease him for lying but a gasp came out instead, my hand coming to my belly.

“What‘s wrong, Bri?” Pierre straightened in alarm as he took the hot drink from my shaking hand.

“Did you feel that?” I asked as I grabbed his hand back and placed it on the swell of my belly, falling silent as I waited to feel it again. “Talk about something, anything.”

Pierre shifted on the lounge as he pulled my shirt up, laying down on his stomach so his lips brushed gently over my skin while his feet kicked happily in the air behind him. “Je suis impatient de te rencontrer, ma petite. I count the days until I get to hold you in my arms. Woah!”

Pierre’s wide eyes snapped to mine, awe and wonder filling them as he felt the strong kick beneath his palms.

“I think she likes your voice.”

“Or he,” he corrected as he spread his fingers wider to cover as much space as he could, hoping to catch another kick.

“We’ll see who’s right next week,” I said with a grin at the thought of all the bets that had been placed around the paddock. Most of the drivers had bet on another girl, though some of them, namely Charles, only did it so they could keep calling Pierre a girl dad.

The baby had other ideas when it came to the ultrasound, refusing to move into a position that revealed the gender. All of Barcelona surely heard the mass groan the crews in the paddock gave when Pierre announced we still didn’t know who was in the running to win the bet. It was lucky I had extra copies of the scans printed out because all of the drivers were suddenly expert radiographers and certain they would be able to tell the gender if they squinted hard enough.

“That’s definitely a boy!” Danny exclaimed as he pointed to the anatomy. “Look at it!”

“That’s the umbilical cord,” I said with a shake of my head and a giggle.

“You know, that makes sense,” he said as he elbowed Pierre. “Thought we were getting Tripod 2.0.”

“That was a joke,” Pierre groaned. “I didn’t think they would use it.”

“Sure, mate, I totally, 110%, absolutely believe you.” Danny tried to keep his composure but one look at Yuki had him bending over in a fit of laughter. All eyes turned to Yuki but he looked everywhere except at us and gave an innocent shrug before lying that he was late for a briefing.

“What’s a tripod?” Addie asked, making another round of laughter roll through the drivers who looked expectantly at Pierre, just as I was.

“Yes, darling, explain that one, will you?” I asked with an arched brow as amusement filled me.

“Thanks Daniel, now I’m in trouble,” Pierre muttered before waving the drivers away until only Charles remained.

“I think you got yourself in trouble the moment you opened your mouth in that interview,” Charles teased as we watched Pierre try to explain that a tripod held cameras in place.

“But that’s not funny,” she grumbled in confusion.

“No, but those guys are very silly.” Satisfied he had put out that fire, he turned to Charles as his arm snaked around my shoulders. “Still betting on a girl?”

“Even if I’m wrong, you’ll still be a girl dad,” Charles said with a smile as he handed the ultrasound image back to me. “Is baby healthy?”

I ran my hand over my bump that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but a baby by now and smiled at the question only he would think to ask. “Growing exactly as expected, with ten little fingers and ten little toes.”

“Ah, that’s good to hear,” he said as he knelt beside Addie who was still carrying her doll with her. “Taking good care of your baby too, I see. Can I hold her?” Addie handed the baby over and Charles cocked an eyebrow at the mess atop her head. “Looks like your daddy has been practising on her hair.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad. And it was your mum who taught me to plait so if you’re criticising me, it's really on her teaching skills.”

“My mother is a great teacher,” Charles pointed out with a grin and handed the doll back with the addition of one of his bracelets as a necklace.

Addie jumped happily around seeing the silver and onyx chain sparkling in the sun. “Thank you, Uncle Charles!”

“You’re welcome, chérie.”

“Can I have mochi?” Addie asked as a delicious looking plate of the treats were carried past.

“Where are you manners?”

“S’il vous plaît, maman,” Addie answered as she pushed the destroyed pieces of food around her plate oblivious to the shock on my face.

“Eat your dinner first, then we will talk about dessert,” Pierre negotiated.

“Elle parle française?” I asked him when I saw he didn’t seem surprised at her casual use of French.

“Avec moi, oui. Eat up, mon fille.” He winked at Addie before stealing a takoyaki ball so she would have less to eat to get her dessert. “You too,” he said to me as he saw the ramen bowl hardly touched.

“This little one is taking up too much space,” I admitted as I rubbed the tight skin stretching across my belly and earned a kick in response. “Plus, it is kind of mean that I’m not allowed sushi in Japan.”

“Two months and you can eat all the sushi you want,” Pierre said with a chuckle. “I’ll even bring you back here for it.”

“Six weeks and five days,” you corrected. “And not an hour more.”

The caesarean had already been scheduled for a few days before my due date to avoid going into labour and possibly damaging my restructured hip. It wasn’t as daunting the second time around now that I knew what to expect but I wasn’t looking forward to the recovery and bed rest that came with the surgery. But, it was what was safest for both me and the baby since the doctors weren’t sure if my pelvis would even widen as it should during labour with all the pins holding it together.

The last thing we wanted to do was risk something happening just because I would have preferred a natural birth. It didn’t bother Pierre either since the pre-booked date guaranteed he was going to be there for the birth, or had he referred to it - coming out the sunroof.

“You still need to eat more than that, amore,” Pierre said as he grabbed an edamame bean with his chopsticks and waited for my lips to part. “Please?”

I could hardly say no when he used his puppy eyes so I let him feed me and was rewarded with a proud smile despite feeling like my stomach was going to burst.

“Did you want to take a walk?” Pierre asked after paying for dinner and a separate bag of mochi to take away too.

It was a lovely evening in Suzuka and it wasn’t far to the waterfront but my feet ached along with my back, not to mention I needed to pee for the umpteenth time, so I shook my head ruefully. “Not tonight, but you two can go. Addie could probably do with running off some energy.”

Pierre kissed my temple as he saw my discomfort, his arm curling around my waist before we started the short journey back to the hotel. “I’ll take her out after you are settled in,” he promised.

“Oh yes, that’s the spot,” I moaned as Pierre massaged my swollen ankles that were propped up on his thigh. His strong hands were the best relief and their magic was almost putting me to sleep as another yawn escaped.

“Daddy, can we go now?” Addie begged as she stood by the door waiting with her jacket ready and her shoes on.

He looked like he was going to ask for one more minute but she had already been waiting for five and that was about the most patience we could get out of her before a tantrum began so I lifted my feet off his lap. “Have fun, my loves.”

Addie ran over and kissed my cheek before taking Pierre’s hand and dragging him to his feet. “Call me if you want me to get you anything.”

“Sushi?”

“Except sushi,” he chuckled as he placed some cushions under my feet and gave me a quick kiss before Addie succeeded in getting him to take a step towards the door. “Get some rest, mon amour.”

Click here for chapter twenty nine.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts @alwaysclassyeagle @dr3lover @adalynneva

#pierre gasly x poc!oc #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf #f1 imagine #running from the flames

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myobmaya · 2 years

Note

Hi! I’ve been following you for a while and loved your Nightmares fic! Idk why but I’m a total sucker for sadness tonight. Can you write some Eddie angst? Maybe a breakup but they get back together at the end? Thank you 💖

why are y’all wanting angst and why am I so down for it? are we okay? should we carpool to therapy together? anyways here ya go! ❤️ tysm for the support and I apologize for any grammar errors it’s 10:30 pm and I wrote this up real quick so it’s short and simple, I’ll be back in the AM to clean it up. in the meantime enjoy! ❤️

Eddie Munson x Reader (no specific gender)

TW: couple breaking up

——

The empty beer bottles that littered the floor now lay in the garage can outside the house. The record that would normally be playing throughout the walls is tucked away inside its case next to the player soon to be collecting dust. Your clothes that were shoved into the wooden drawers are now neatly tucked away in the suitcase sitting by the door.

You didn’t mean to clean the messy house. Yet, you couldn’t bare to leave your home in the state it was. The subtle resemblance of your home that mirrored the state of your relationship.

It wasn’t fair to leave it like that to him deal with it.

It wasn’t fair to you to leave at all.

The soft rumbling of the car outside tears you from your thoughts. The clock on the wall confirms he’s off work and here as expected. You wait for him to walk through the doors. The inevitable coming to a head.

You sit at the table focusing on your breathing. You weren’t going to let him see your tears. Was it smart for you to have waited for him? It was evening time now and you were sure the street lights were to be turned in anytime now. You had plans to go back to your parents house until you figured out your next move. Maybe you should have just left and waited for him to hate your forever.

Your thoughts go wild and despite you wanting to run without him watching you, you know you owe him an explanation. Surely he knew the end of your relationship was coming. But after years of being with him you can’t stand the thought of just walking away without so much of a word as to why. Had you really thought this through?

On the opposite side of the door Eddie hesitates putting the key in the lock. His eyes close as he remembers this morning’s argument. Something about him missing a date? Was it a date? Fuck. No it was about him not helping around. Right? He takes a deep breath. He can’t even remember the full context of what the cause of the yelling for was this time but he’s tired of it.

He doesn’t want to live in the constant state of frustration.

He doesn’t want to carry on like this.

He wants things to go back to how they were. The way you two were two crazy teenagers in love. The people you were before life came and hit you both with reality checks.

The door opens and you stop breathing. His eyes look around the clean space. A change from the state it was hours earlier. You feel your chest grow tight watching as he looks around the floor. He know somethings off. The house is clean but it’s silent. Too silent. You’re silent.

His eyes fall to your suitcase. He meets your gaze and the wall you spent the past hour building tumbles down. Tears immediately burn but you swallow them down. Eddie’s hand meets his hip while the other runs down his face as a humorless chuckle fills the air.

There was nothing funny about this. He doesn’t know why he laughs. He doesn’t know what to do at all.

You look down at your hands biting back tears. He sees the way your shoulders struggle to stand tall. The way you dig your nails into your hands to hold onto some sort of strength. Strength he no longer gives you. He sees you holding back your emotions. You don’t want him to see the hurt. You used to be so open with him and now he watches as you fight yourself to remain stoic.

You’ve blocked yourself out. You cut him out.

You no longer where the care free person he met all those years ago. When did you slip away? When did he stop noticing?

It’s then he realizes he’s the reason for this. He’s the reason this is happening. Eddie takes a moment to himself and finally shut up as a sob replaces the laugh.

Tears gleam in his eyes but he doesn’t wan you to them. He shrugs his coat off and throws it on the couch. You keep your eyes down as he make his way over. He pulls out the chair from beside of you and sits down. A million questions go through his brain but he can only think of one.

“Do you still love me?”

It’s a genuine question. Not an ounce of malice is behind it. Just sadness. His question breaks the damn of the emotions you try to hold in. You’re quick to wipe away the tears. Eddie stares at you.

He watches you break down. He wants to comfort you. Tell you that he’s sorry and that everything will be alright.

But instead Eddie sucks in a breath as he leans back in the chair. An arm crosses his chest as the other runs down his face. He looks up at the ceiling. You look up at him.

“Loving you isn’t the issue, Eddie. Fighting you is and I can’t do it anymore.”

The sound of your sniffle breaks Eddie from his trance as the reality set in. His eyes met yours and for the first time in a long time he no longer sees frustration in your eyes. He sees the sadness replace the light that used to shine so bright. Eddie was never good with words but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t use them.

“Answer the question,” you go to cut him of but he stops you. “Because I know for a fact that I love you. I know that because even when we go to bed fighting the moment I see you in the morning and you kiss me goodbye I know we’re gonna be okay. You’re the biggest pain in my ass but god damn you’re the one I want to come home too.”

“Eddie-“

“No. No.” He shakes his head waving his hands. He needs you to hear what he has to say. He’a loved you for half his life and he’s going to continue to do so even if you walk out out of his life.

Eddie looks up at the ceiling again and then meets your watery eyes. “I don’t want to fight anymore,” Eddie whispers. His hands are now holding onto your shaky ones. He turns them over to lace your fingers with his. He didn’t care that they lay limp against the hold he has.

“I’m not going to fight you. We’ve done enough of that and I don’t want us to continue on,” he starts again. “But I will fight for you to stay and we work this out.”

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x gender neutral reader

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chelsea-xxx2003 · 4 months

Text

Chapter 9

Aaron POV

I suddenly jolt up awake in a cold sweat. My chest moves up and down as I take in all the oxygen. I look over to Maya and she's still asleep then I look over at the digital clock 8:48am. I get out the bed and go to the bathroom and quietly close the door. I lean on the counter top as I take deep breaths in and out. My hands are shaking, if chilled but I'm sweating. What is this feeling? It was only a nightmare, why am I reacting like this? The nightmare felt really real.

I splash my face with some cool water to try and calm down. I wipe my face. I hear a buzz at the door. I open the door and walk out the bathroom. I put on some sweats and press the camera. I looks like a delivery guy with a whole bunch of suitcases.

"Hello"

"Uh delivery for Miss Thompson."

I press the buzzer to let him in. He eventually comes up and knocks on the door. I open the door. He has three suitcases to bring and I move out the way so he can put them in the living room. Every time he comes up, there are more bags with him. Poor guy. I would help but it's not my job. I'm sure he can manage, he looks 23 or something. He comes up with the last amount with sweat on his forehead.

"If I can ask you to sign here please."

I take the clipboard and sign the parts that need to written off.

"Ron is someone at the door?"

She comes out of the bedroom with a tired look on her face and messy hair. In just my top to her thighs. I turn to give the clipboard back to the guy but his attention is somewhere else. Something behind me. More like someone. He looks mesmerised by Maya. I watch him look at her up and down with a stupid smirk on him. He bits the corner of his lip. Fuck no.

I shove the clipboard in his chest and stand in front of him to stop him from fantasising about her anymore. He finally comes to his senses, takes the clipboard, says thank you and dips.

"My bags are here."

She looks more awake as she realises that her bags are back.

"Why are so many bags. Didn't you leave with like three."

"This is my whole wardrobe. Of course I would go shopping abroad."

She takes them and unpacks. I'm watching her from the doorway. She opens the first big suit case and pulls out a dress and another with another. These look short and revealing.

"Where did you wear these dresses?"

"At parties, clubs and days out with my girls."

"Has any guys approached you?"

"Oh every single time." she laughs but I'm not laughing.

"But not only in these dresses, in work clothes so like two piece suits or dresses, gym clothes, casual clothes and bikinis."

"Bikinis?"

She nods with a knowing look. She knows exactly what she's doing.

"It's not like I engaged with them. If I sensed flirting I would shut it down. Unless it gets me free drinks with my friends."

“Yeah ok. Listen I gotta head to work.”

"Oh you still engineering?"

"Yeah. Working on a megacorporation called Alchemax. But you never heard from me."

"Oh so it's like a government owned building or something. Sounds exciting."

I kiss her cheek and go take a shower. What is said was not a lie. Engineering is my job. It's like a back up income. When people ask what I do, I tell them that. It's really good paying job.

Maya POV

I carry on packing what I can whilst Aaron takes a shower. I then realise how bags I have. I'm definitely going to donate some. I don't forget the Christmas presents but put them to the side. I go through some bags and close to finishing when the bathroom door opens with steam in the way.

He comes out the steamy room with only a towel around his waist. NoW it's my turn to stare. He has been working out. I mean he always was but his muscles look more visible or is it the water.

"Take a photo."

I snap back to life. He looks at me with a grin. Throw a piece of clothing at him but as always he catches it. He unfolds it and his smirk widens even more. It was one my underwear. My mistake. I go over to him to get it back but he just holds it above me. I giving it my all by going on my tiptoes and holing on to his arm. No joke it feels firm. I give up.

"Don't you have work to go to?"

"Not until a bit later."

I leave the room to make something for breakfast. I open the fridge. Nothing. Only a box of Chineses takeout, half a pack of beer left. Smh. What the hell has this guy been eating. At least there is milk that is fresh. I open the cabinets for cereal and thank God there was some. I get a bowl and a spoon and start. I go and sit on the leather couch and watch TV. The sound of a sitcom graces to room with a bunch of backtrack laughter.

He finishes but is in a rush to get to wherever he's working.

"What the hell have you been eating these past eight years?"

"Huh?"

"Huh!" Smh again. "I'm surprised you're still alive. You've been surviving on takeouts for years."

"Gotta bye."

What a way to disappear. What? Did he get flashbacks of me nagging him to eat healthy back in the day. It used to bother me seeing him eat all that junk. To the point where he would eat in the carpark of fast food restaurants. Still caught him though. On the topic of food I've got to do some shopping. Even the fridge looks hungry.

I finish the cereal, take a shower and get dressed. A jumpsuit, leg warmers, boots, winter coat and fluffy beanie and purse and I'm out the door. I get an Uber to the union market. I know it's an expensive posh grocery store but i haven't been in so long. I 'm gonna make something nice and healthy tonight.

My Uber arrives and I hop in. The whole ride I'm grateful that the driver does not say a word. I like rides in silence or with music. I arrive at the place and step into the store. The cold is really intent on killing me.

"Hello Miss, welcome to the Union Market. Do you have a membership?" The woman at the door greeted me.

"I do but it probably expired."

"Thats ok. We can update it for you"

I give her my card and she scans it and puts it in the system.

"Here is new car. Also you are able to do your shopping and have it delivered the same day as soon as possible."

Oh. That's fun. Years ago, they would only load groceries in the boot of your car. I grab a cart and get started. I'm walking through the aisles. I'm picking up fresh vegetables, fresh fruits. I will be making salmon with mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli because lord knows he needs a healthy meal after all these years of junk food.

I'm lost in thought as I'm walking up and down the aisles about to finish.

"Oh my gosh. Maya is that you?"

#aaron davis x oc #into the spider verse #aaron davis #spider verse #uncle aaron

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musings-of-a-rose · 1 year

Note

All I can think of right now is Lu Fox meeting an eccentric writer who's just the oddest person he's ever meant and always seems to make him laugh or smile. They both end up helping each other (the reader helping pull Lu from the edge and Lu helping the reader voice their ideas and get their book written) and maybe falling for each other along the way. Who knows? Just an idea. Also, Garrett Hedlund is very attractive.

I'm Here

Pairing: Lu Fox x f!reader

Word Count: 5500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: Anon, I’m so sorry this took so long! I hope it’s what you were looking for. And you are correct - Garrett Hedlund is very attractive. I hope you follow him on Instagram if you need further proof.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Main Masterlist

Lu Fox Masterlist

“Oh fuck this!” I shout, as I shove the computer away from me. Not enough to break it but enough to let out a little of the frustration I have with not being able to write anything.

Not a single word.

My friend’s husband had inherited a home in the middle of nowhere Australia, some small fishing town on the west coast. He had convinced me that what I needed to finish writing this God-forsaken novel was a change of scenery, set away from the city. Since nothing else was helping, and I would be able to stay in the house free of charge, I figured why not?

I arrived 2 weeks ago and have written exactly 23 words. And that was my name with a series of expletives after it.

I’m putting too much pressure on myself, I know it. It’s just that I’ve been trying to write this thing for what feels like my entire life and I know people are waiting for me to just get it out already.

That’s the problem with imposter syndrome when it teams up with your crippling perfectionism.

I know this place has beach access, having briefly seen it in the distance when I hauled my suitcases inside. Changing into my bathing suit with a simple tank top and shorts, I pulled on some shoes and headed outside, pausing only to grab my sun hat and to make sure my phone was in my pocket.

It took me a few minutes to find it, but the little “private” beach was there, white sands and beach grass swaying slightly in the wind coming off the water. I walk close to where the surf comes up on the sand, tossing down my beach towel that I had remembered at the very last second, sprinting back to the house to grab it.

I settle down on it, taking in the view briefly before pulling out my phone. Flipping to the voice recorder app, I make sure it’s working before simply holding it in my hand, eyes turning back to the beautiful water view. Several minutes pass before I finally put the phone to my face, holding it close to my mouth.

“Day…I don’t even know. Same story. Should the main character go off on some quest to find herself? No that’s too cliche. What if they return the stone but it doesn’t do what it’s supposed to?”

Groaning, I stop the recording and hold the phone away from my mouth for a brief moment before speaking into it again.

“Or maybe they would tell everyone to shove it in their asses and leave them the fuck alone.”

“Sounds like a cheerful story.”

A deep voice speaks from slightly behind me and to my right and I jump, brandishing my phone like a weapon at the intruder. He’s tall, about 6’3 or so, sandy blonde hair that comes down to about his eyes, his annoyingly bright blue eyes. He’s tan but not overly so, has some muscle to him and I can see the swell of a small stomach beneath his nearly form fitted white t-shirt, paired with a simple pair of shorts and…are those flip flops?

“Who the fuck are you?”

He’s put his hands up in a surrender position, trying to show he means no harm. At least that’s the vibe he gives off.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m the fuck who’s private property this is.”

He tries to hide a chuckle at my choice of words, but I wave the phone at him in what I hope is a menacing way and he at least tries his best to choke back the laugh.

“You’re staying at the old Allen house?”

Shit. I didn’t think this through and now he knows where I live. Not that I’d kick him out of bed. Not the point.

“Does it matter?”

He doesn’t answer me right away. Instead I see his eyes rake over me, but more in an assessing manner than being attracted to me, and it wasn’t threatening.

“It hasn’t been lived in for a while. Everything still work or you taking cold showers?”

“They keep me clear headed.”

He laughs now, his teeth on full display as he lights up the entire area with his smile, shoulders bouncing slightly with his laughter.

“It’s gotta be freezing.”

“I’ve survived worse.”

“I’m sure you have.”

“Why are you on my beach?”

His laughter fades but the smile lingers slightly, but only slightly. “I uh…I go fishing sometimes and my truck is parked just over that sandhill.” He gestures behind him towards a sand bank.

“Aren’t there docks you could park at?”

His eyes suddenly don’t meet mine and it clicks - he’s not supposed to be fishing whatever it is that he fishes. I know the people in this town are weird about their fishing spots so I’m not surprised.

“I like the fish on this side.”

I put my arm down, deciding that he wasn’t a threat. “Or you’re not supposed to be fishing here.”

The smile is gone and the light that had been in his eyes fades. “Used to be we could fish wherever. But then they went and made you get a license. Little piece of paper that says you could do what everyone’s been doing since the beginning of fishing.”

I nod. “So…get a license?”

He chuckles, but there’s no laughter in it. “I tried, but they wouldn’t let me.”

“What? Why not?”

He studies me again befire speaking. “Does it bother you that I use the beach?”

“Should it?”

“It should if you intend on making friends here.”

“With these people? Pssht. They don’t want to be my friend. I’m an outsider. And an American at that, no matter how I try to assimilate.”

“Yeah, they don’t care for me either.”

“And why’s that?”

He sticks his hand out. “Name’s Lu. Lu Fox.”

I shake his hand and give him my name. “But everyone calls me Jane.”

“Jane?”

“Yeah. I’m a writer and was always a big reader. First big book I ever read was Pride and Prejudice and I was sort of obsessed. Wrote my own stories about it. The nickname stuck.”

“Oh that’s why you were talking into your phone. Makes sense. You writing out here?”

I laugh darkly. “I’m trying to. Writer’s block is a bitch.”

“Might help if you could take a nice shower instead of a cold one.”

I chuckle again. “Well…you may have a point there, Lu.”

His blue eyes are like the water behind him and he looks at me again, as if he’s finally fully judged me. Or seen me.

“Well…it was nice to mee you, Jane.” He turns to head back over the bank, his broad shoulders flexing slightly as he runs his fingers through his hair. He disappears and my beach feels a little more empty without him here.

I head back inside and write the most I’ve written in a very long time.

—----

I don’t see him again for a couple of weeks, but then again, he could be hiding from me. Or whomever told him he’s not allowed to fish.

God I wish he’d come back. Not just because I find myself suddenly able to write when being around him, but his presence just…I’m not sure. There’s also this layer of sadness and guilt to him, hiding just behind those baby blue eyes. It’s fascinating, from a human study perspective. Although I’m sure he wouldn’t want to hear about that.

Sitting on a towel on the beach is getting old so I explore more of the house. Opening a small shed outside, I find some old patio furniture, a small table with an umbrella and a couple of chairs. They’re a little banged up and dirty, but a quick inspection and cleaning tells me that I won’t fall through the chairs. At least not yet.

I bring both of the chairs to the beach, intending to use the other one to rest my feet on. Or to offer to Lu if he happens by. The table, however, is the bane of my current existence. It’s heavy as fuck and my arms are straining with the effort of pulling the damn thing towards the beach. Once I hit the sand, it all but gives up, the groaning of the metal mocking me.

“Need a hand?”

I jump, not realizing anyone was there let alone watching me.

“You gotta stop sneaking up on me, Lu.”

He smirkls. “Next time, I’ll just watch you suffer then.”

I roll my eyes but I can’t hide the small smile that creeps up. “Next time?”

He blushes, pink cheeks radiating out from his beautifully tanned skin. “I..uh…d-do you need help?”

I watch him for a moment, deciding now wasn’t the time to push the topic. “Fuck, yes please. This table has it out for me, I swear.”

He grabs one side of the table and I grab the other. Together, we manage to get it by the chairs, Lu sinking it slightly into the ground to help stabilize it. After, I gesture towards the second chair.

“Have a seat? I can go grab us some drinks.”

It’s my turn to be analyzed, and he does it well. I feel like I’m being judged, but not in a harsh way. More like someone trying to figure out any hidden agenda.

“Sure. I got a few minutes.”

I head back inside and make up a quick tray of small snacks, sandwiches, and drinks, heading back out and placing it on the table. A small bowl containing food for his dog is placed on the ground, with an additional bowl for water and the dog looks extremely grateful as he chows down.

“So what made you drag all of this down here?”

I shrug. “There was too much crap in storage. And I was getting tired of sand in my lady bits.”

He laughs but it almost looks like his body isn’t familiar with the action, shoulders tensing with the unnatural release.

“You’ve got a point there.”

“I don’t want anything in me that I didn’t invite to come inside.”

The words leave my mouth before I realize the double meaning. I take a quick drink, trying to see him out the corner of my eye, hoping he didn’t read too much into it.

No such luck.

“Invited in, huh?”

Ok, trying to play it cool here. I wave my hand as I swallow my sip. “Sand? Not invited. You? Open invitation.”

What the fuck did I just say?

Apparently I’ve left my mouth under the control of someone else but now they’ve turned control back over to me after saying basically, “you can fuck me whenever you want.”

Lu chokes on his drink as the words leave my mouth, coughing and sputtering, but also holding back a smile as he regains his composure.

Before he can say anything I stand, knowing my cheeks are burning and my confidence in myself has been swept away into the water. I almost start to run, anything to get away from the situation that I have opened myself to. I mean, I would never say no to that situation coming up but…that’s so not the point.

I make it to the screen door, pulling it open and letting it slam behind me as I walk the 2 steps to the main door, fumbling with the handle. Suddenly, I feel him, standing on the outside of the screen, hesitant to open it to make me feel obligated to something, but wanting me to know it’s ok, that I didn’t just embarrass the hell out of myself and that he’s ok with moving on. It’s almost as if he enjoys his time with me too, despite how limited it’s been. Why else would he put up with me?

I turn, slowly, bracing myself to meet those piercing blue eyes that can actually see me. And when I do, I can’t stop myself.

I open the screen door, staring up at him as he looks down at me, his eyes flicking between mine, trying to read my intentions, letting me know nothing has to happen. Ever. He’s content with just being around me. But one thing’s for sure - he’s leaving it all up to me.

Gently, I take his hand and pull him inside, the screen door slamming closed behind him. He’s still watching me, his eyes studying my entire body for cues, not wanting to push. But there’s a growing intensity there, a need, a desire that he’s trying to push down in case nothing happens.

But I need his consent too. And silently I receive it with a quick raise of my eyebrows and a small nod from him.

I have to stand on my toes to meet his lips, which are surprisingly soft and gentle against my anxiety bitten ones. His hands find my hips and lightly settle there, a soft grip on them as he pulls me closer to him. His tongue licks lightly at my lips, still asking for the permission I have already granted him, not wanting to overstep. My tongue darts out to meet his and I feel his fingers tighten on my hips, his body trying to close any space between us.

I take a step back, my fingers finding his belt loop and pulling him along with me. He gets the hint and moves me forwards, pushing my ass into the door behind me as he deepens his kiss. I shift my leg up his thigh and he swings his arm around it, pushing it up higher to loop over his own hip as he lightly grinds into me. Breaking the kiss, I whine into the humid air, Lu taking full advantage of my exposed neck to kiss and bite me there, groaning when my fingers find his hair at the back of his neck, tugging slightly.

Then the tension pops.

He slides his hand up my leg, feeling for the ties at the hips of my bathing suit, quickly undoing them and letting it drop to the floor. My hands fumble at his shorts, but I manage to pop the button open and slide them down just enough for him to spring free, dick lightly slapping against my wet cunt.

He grips the back of my other thigh and pulls it up around his other hip, helping me to straddle him as he pushes my back into the door. One arm wrapped around his broad shoulders, I use the other to grip him, lining him up as he slides me down onto him, both of us moaning out as he inches his way inside me, stretching me in the best way possible. Our mouths are still attached, open and breathing into the other as he pulls out and pushes back in, setting a pace that has him hitting some spot at the very back of me, stars erupting in my vision as I come, crying out his name as he prolongs my release. A few more hard thrusts from him and he moans into my shoulder, coming hard as his hips sputter, trying to fill every corner of me.

We stay like that for a few minutes, just breathing heavily and feeling the other. He quietly slips from me, placing my feet back on the floor before gripping my hips and pulling me to him again, kissing me deeply against the door.

It’s now that I realize the groan isn’t coming from me or him, but from behind me.

Lu must relize this too as he pulls me off the door and to him, just as the door takes one last creak and falls backwards into the house, the bottom hinge attempting to hang on, the top half of the door slamming loudly on the wood floor.

“I can fix that.”

I look at Lu and we both start to laugh, his smile just barely reaching his eyes as it stretches across his face, lighting up the porch.

“I’ll hold you to that, Lu.”

—-----

True to his word, Lu repairs the front door that day, taking some additional time to see what else needed repairs. I’m not sure how much of a handyman he is, but I decide I don’t really care because that next day he fixes my hot water heater and I can finally take a hot shower again.

Lu takes his time fixing up my place. I assumed it was just for the amazing sex, but when I ask him, he says he likes hearing me mutter to myself about my book because nothing ever seems related as i only verbalize less than half of what I'm actually thinking. He likes watching the process.

I’m just glad there’s an actual process to observe.

Lu’s presence inspires me and I find myself able to write more and more with every passing day. It’s not that he’s in my book, but more that he somehow gives me the confidence I need to actually write something that’s not entirely shit.

I wish I could do something similar for him. The sadness in him is still very much there, always present in his eyes and hunched over posture, like it’s literally weighing him down. I don’t dare ask him outright, not wanting to intentionally hurt him.

—----

The townspeople are talking now. Before, they’d mostly ignore me, maybe giving me a rolled eye here and there, but mostly just smiling long enough to take my money. But now, it’s like they’ve all taken an interest, telling me I need to “Stay away from that Fox boy” because he’s bad news. But when I ask how, no one can really give me an answer. They glance around and say something about “Buckridge”. I’m pretty sure that’s the top fisherman around here and he’s some sort of local celeb.

Like I give an actual fuck.

—----

A few months after my arrival, I’m sitting on my back porch towards evening, sipping on some homemade lemonade I’d managed to perfect, gazing out over the sand banks towards the beach. Lu was off fishing or doing whatever it is he does to make money, which always gives me time to sit and think without the presence of another human or animal. I thought I’d hate living so far from a city, but it’s growing on me.

Or at least a certain someone is.

I hear rustling in the brush near my house and it sounds big. I know Australia has some very unique animals, but I’ve been here a while and I’ve never heard anything this big. I still my movements, thankful I’d been sitting out here a while for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Those movements are definitely not an animal. They sound like a person. Is someone from town lurking around my house?

Silently, I reach for the baseball bat Lu had placed next to my front door a few weeks ago in case I needed to look larger to local wildlife. I never thought I’d have to use it on a person.

Just then, a body falls out from the brush, hitting the dirt with a pathetic “oomph”, barely moving after the fall. I grab my flashlight and shine it towards the person.

“Lu!”

I dart out of the porch door, full out running towards him, dropping the bat to his side where I also lay the flashlight down, touching his shoulder to get him to turn. He jerks back, unsure of who I am.

“It’s me. It’s Jane. You’re at my place.”

This seems to calm him down, his eyes finally able to actually see me and take me in.

“Jane?”

I hate how forced his voice is, hate the violent cough that follows. I coax him to stand, having him lean on me as we shuffle to the house. I manage to get him inside the porch on the patio couch. He stretches out, taking some sharp breaths and groans as he grips at various parts of his body.

“Let me look at you. Ssshh it’s ok. You’re gonna be ok.”

He’s already shirtless, cuts and scrapes and bruises adorn his torso, matching his face. His shorts are torn in places and I realize now that he doesn’t have on any shoes. His feet have major blisters on them, as if he’d been walking barefoot for a while.

“Let me call an ambulance-”

“No.”

It’s quiet, and choked out, but it’s a strong reply regardless.

“Lu, I don’t know if you’re bleeding internally or something is broken, I-”

“No hospitals. Nothing broken.”

I’m not going to win this one, so I make do with what I can.

“Well if you get worse, you’re going. No fighting. Now, I’m going to grab the first aid kit, hold on.”

Sprinting inside, I grab a small first aid kit that I’d stocked up when I got here, fully knowing my own clumsiness would require me to have a good supply of ointments and bandages. I also grab a bowl and fill it with warm water and toss in a clean rag. I set the bowl gently down on the floor next to Lu, taking the cloth and wringing it out.

“I’m going to clean you up a bit but we need to get you in a bath. Ok?”

“Mmm.”

Gently, I dab at all of the cuts, taking note of the ones that looked deeper and the bruises he winced over. It’s obvious he’s exhausted, his muscles probably on fire from doing whatever he needed to to survive. I get him as clean as I can before tossing the rag in the bowl. I take his hand carefully and give it a light squeeze, waiting for him to turn to me. He does but he keeps his eyes closed.

“We have to get you in the bath, Lu.”

He groans but nods, knowing he’s going to have to endure some amount of pain. I help him up and he nearly falls on me. Luckily, I have my feet planted and am able to support a little more of him as I guide him inside and down the hall, grateful for the giant soaking tub in the bathroom not too far from the front door. He sits on the closed toilet seat as I pour the water, making sure it’s a nice warm temperature before turning to him.

“Let me help.”

He nods and attempts to stand, but I place a hand on his shoulder.

“Just lift your hips when I say, yeah?”

He nods again, waiting as I undo his shorts and pull them and his boxers open. He lifts his hips so I can slide them down and off his legs, tossing them by the bathroom door. He pulls himself up and I help him in the tub, listening to his whimpers and groans as his body aches and screams out at him.

Finally, he’s seated in the tub and I can clearly see all of him. He’s got more cuts and scrapes than I saw before, bruises springing up almost before my eyes. His feet are more of a mess than I anticipated and I know he’ll be out a few days recovering. I grab a washcloth and some soap and get to work, gently scrubbing away the dirt and grime from his skin and the saltwater from his hair.

“It was some of Buckridge’s men.”

There’s that name again.

“What?”

“Was out fishing and I saw 2 boats heading my way. I looked in the binoculars and saw them. Buckridge’s men heading straight for me. I tossed my shirt and dove in, swimming far and deep. They destroyed my boat.”

Anger courses through me at this. “They could’ve killed you, Lu.”

“I don’t think they’d have minded if they did.”

Silence for a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I wound up on shore but a lot farther out from where I started. No boat. They probably got my truck. But I knew you weren’t too far. Or I thought you weren’t too far-”

“Wait. You swam for miles, then walked here?”

“Mmm. Had to take the brush in case they found me on the road.”

“Fuck, Lu. We gotta go to the police-”

“No. It won’t help anyway.”

“Lu, this was attempted murder! They could’ve-”

“Wouldn’t be anything I didn’t deserve.”

It was so quiet, nearly whispered, and I almost missed it.

“You don’t deserve any of this.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“Is it why you’re always so sad?”

He doesn’t say anything, but the tears building in his eyes confirms his answer. I don’t say anything, quietly washing his hair and the rest of him before helping him out of the tub and to my bedroom, helping him to laydown after I dried him off. I get him under the blankets, propped up slightly on some pillows.

“You need water.”

I get him a glass of water and grab some extra bottles along with a light snack and bring it to my room. Setting everything on the table, I help him sit up slightly to take some sips of water before he lays back, groaning into the pillows. I go to stand up but he places his hand on my thigh, silently asking for me to remain seated at his side.

“She died. And it was my fault.”

“Who?”

“Bird.”

Then he tells me everything. How he used to be a singer and played in a small folk band with his brother and his brother's wife and their daughter Bird. There had been an argument between his brother and his wife one night after a show, his brother getting in a physical fight with Jim Buckridge himself. Bird was allowed to attend that show, so she and Lu sat in the backseat, the silence between the two adults in the front seat thick with tension and accusations of infidelity. His brother tried to put on music but she yanked the tape from the deck.

Suddenly, there were honks and bright lights coming from behind them and his brother sped up. Lu tried to get him to stop but he wouldn’t. Before Lu could get Bird’s seatbelt on, the car flipped and he blacked out. When he woke, he realized he’d been thrown from the car, which was now laying on it’s roof. He found his brother and his wife in the car, upside down and already gone. That’s when he saw Bird, thrown several feet away from the car. He had stumbled towards her, promising her to get help. Help eventually came, Bird having to be hooked up to several monitors. Many doctors repeating the same thing, about how she was physically here but she would never wake and how he needed to decide whether to pull the plug or not. Eventually, he did, but instead of feeling like he let her move on to the next life, regret came pouring into him.

“It’s my fault. My fault she’s…she’s…”

He sobs, turning his head into the pillow as years of regret and anger towards himself flow out. Without thinking, I slide under the covers near him, pulling his face to my chest while cradling his head and lightly rubbing his back with my free hand. I let him cry, wailing into the night for the guilt he thinks he deserves for several minutes before I start to hum, some mindless tune. Eventually his shoulders stop shaking and his breathing levels out and I pull him just a little closer.

“It’s not your fault, Lu.”

“I pulled the plug. If I didn’t, maybe she’d…”

“No, Lu. She was only there because of the assholes in the other car.”

“If I could only have gotten help sooner-”

“Look at me.”

He turns his head, looking up at me with eyes red and puffy with tears.

“You did absolutely everything you could do. You took care of her as best as you could. Better than anyone else, I would say. Pulling the plug…that was a selfless act and you allowed her to move on. Death is hardest on those who remain behind. But you can’t live your life with the what-if’s. And I’m sure if Bird were here now, she’d tell you that exact same thing. The only one who has to believe it, is you.”

Silent tears well at the corners of his shining blue eyes, and he nods, slowly.

“When they came after me today, part of me thought I should just lay down in the boat. Let them take me. But….but then I saw her. I saw Bird. She basically told me it was time to move and I realized I didn’t want to die. So I swam. And swam and swam, all the while hearing her. And when I got to shore, all I could think about was getting to you. I think she’d have liked you.”

A sigh of relief leaves his mouth, his entire body relaxing from it and I realize he’s falling asleep. I let him hold onto me for a while before I quietly leave the room, cleaning up the porch and making sure I have food lined up for breakfast.

—----

I know he’ll be sore this morning. How could you not be after swimming that far and then walking even farther? I make a light breakfast for him, not wanting to overload him with food, and arrange it on a tray with some juice, water, and painkillers, heading to my room. He blinks awake when I enter, a small smile appearing when he takes me in.

“You brought me breakfast?”

“It’s nothing big. But if you want more, just say so and I’ll whip something else up.”

Setting the tray on the side table, I help prop him up, setting the tray on his lap once he’s comfortable.

“You gonna sit here too?”

“I don’t want to impose.”

He gives me a look. “Sit.”

I perch myself on the side of the bed, picking the skin on my fingers.

“Jane?”

“I finished it.”

He sets his fork down and looks at me. “You finished?”

I nod. “Yup. Last night. I couldn’t sleep and got inspired to write. And…I finished. I mean, I’ll have to get it edited and such but-”

“Can I read it?”

I know my face is hot again. “Oh you- you don’t have to-”

“I want to. If it’s ok with you?”

His bright blue eyes find mine and they’re genuine. They also seem…lighter? Than normal. Like he’s not weighed down with as much grief as he was last night.

“I- yes. Of course.”

I bring my laptop over and sit next to him on the bed, pulling up my finished work. As I pass him the laptop, I feel open, on display, like he’s inspecting every corner of me.

“Don’t worry about accidentally deleting anything. I have it backed up in several places.”

“Smart idea.”

I can’t sit here while he reads it. Not just because it’s long but I’m nervous. I always get this way when people read my work, published or not. I just want to hide sometimes.

Lu takes the rest of the day to read and to relax and heal. I bring him meals and helped him walk to the bathroom once before he waved at me and said he’d be ok. That night, I fell asleep next to him as he was still reading, and I have to admit that I love the feeling of him in my bed.

Even if I do want to throw up at the idea of him reading anything I’ve written.

—----

Soft lips brush against mine as my eyes blink awake. Lu pulls back and studies my face, pushing hair out of my sleepy eyes.

“I finished it.”

I’m awake now.

“You..you did?”

“It was amazing, Jane. I’m not just saying that, I mean it.”

He goes on to give me a surprisingly in depth analysis of it, offering feedback and what his favorite parts were. He also left comments if he saw any typos, which I profusely thanked him for.

“So I guess this means you’ll be heading back to the States?”

“What?”

“To get it edited and printed or..or whatever happens.”

I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. I wasn’t even confident I’d start writing, let alone finish.

“I’ll send the manuscript to my agent and they’ll pass it on to the editors and all of that.”

“And then what?”

Then what, indeed.

“And then I have to head back to the States.”

He offers me a sad smile. “I’ll be sad to see you go-”

“Come with me.”

He sits up more, his eyes flicking between mine, searching for any sign of a joke. “What?”

“I’m serious. Come with me.”

“Jane, I-”

“You’ve been telling me how you’ve wanted to get out of Australia. That…that you don’t have any ties here any more. Come with me. And if you decide you hate it, then…then you can come back and I’ll buy this house from my friend’s husband and-”

“Wait, wait. You’d really want me to come with you?”

Time for a confession.

“I can’t imagine my future without you in it, Lu.”

That following week, we close up the house and pack our things, ready to close the chapter on our past and move on to the next one together.

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @Hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @diaryofkali @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @jadore-andor @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin

#Lu Fox #Lou Fox #Lu Fox x reader #garrett hedlund #Lu Fox x you #Lu Fox x f!reader #Dirt Music #Dirt Music fanfic #dirt music ff #garrett hedlund x reader #garrett hedlund x you #garrett hedlund characters #garrett hedlund character fanfic #garrett hedlund character ff #garrett hedlund character fanfiction

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itstokkii · 8 months

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The Aftermath of the Poll(Turkey's Victory Celebration Fic)

Thank you to everyone who helped Turkey win! As I had promised, I wrote a piece about Uzbekistan reacting to his victory in the tournament! Please enjoy!

Uzbekistan's feet hurt as she kept walking up the hills of Istanbul. Yes, she was no stranger to long hours working in the fields, be it cotton or rice or potatoes, but hills...those were her mortal enemy.

She wouldn't even be here slaving herself away if it wasn't for that link Soojin sent her, followed by an ominous "you're really gonna like this Nargiza 😏."

Upon clicking it, she had found a poll of the most...f*kable countries tournament..? With Turkey....being the winner...? On one hand, she felt a little upset that she couldn't vote in time(though she was overwhelmingly relieved that Turkey had won for some reason), but on the other hand...

Who were these fans.

Against her better judgement, she had booked a trip for Istanbul to ask Turkey who his fans were and why he was on the tournament. Nargiza was on a very important mission and she couldn't bother to fully explain to her siblings as to why she was visiting him.

"Hey Nargiz, why are you visiting Turkey??? You got bored of us or something?? You wanna simp over him a little mor-"

"Respectfully, I don't have the time for your questions, aka." She gritted her teeth, frustrated with Kyrgyzstan's constant bombardment of questions distracting her from cramming more things into her suitcase.

"But he's right though, sister! It's too sudden of a trip for us not to notice! And why Turkey? Come on, you know how he is with his..."

Whatever Kazakhstan was saying tuned out in her head as she continued to pack her essentials and double check that she booked a hotel room.

"...And you know, it's like he thinks he's so much better than us with his hoity toity attitude and his stupid unbuttoned shirt that makes him look sexy or whatever-"

"Alright, I'll be leaving! See you after the weekend!" She grabbed her suitcase, shoving it in her car, and left for the airport.

Tajikistan sighed. "I know it's her choice and all but...sometimes I seriously don't get it..."

And that led to her now, sweat beading on her forehead and dripping down her neck as she finally made it to Turkey's house uphill. Nargiza's heart beat as her finger hovered over his doorbell.

"God, why do I feel like this...?"

Sucking in a deep breath and muttering various curses, she went for it anyway and gently, gently pressed his doorbell.

"I'm coming!" The sound of his annoying voice made her heart beat faster, and just about exploded when she heard the click of the door as it opened.

Turkey's face went from shock to a smirk.

"'Sup, bebeğim."

Nargiza sighed, screwing her eyes shut and hoping what he said wouldn't ingrain itself in her memory(though it already did and absolutely would replay in her mind over and over as she would try to sleep at night). "...I'm sorry for arriving on such short notice, but would it be alright if I came in? I had something important to talk about."

"You know I can always make time for you-"

"So that's a yes then." Nargiza hyperfocused on taking her sneakers off trying to ignore Sadik's comment earlier.

Thankfully the air conditioner was on and she felt a blast of cool air greet her.

"Well, I'm going to make some tea if you need me."

"I'll help then."

"No you won't," Sadik prepared an array of Turkish desserts on a tray. "You'll be a good girl and sit over there and rest because you're not built for the neighborhoods of Istanbul."

Good girl my foot, she thought.

"Why did you have to live uphill anyway?" Nargiza got up and took the tray from Sadik to set down on the table.

He set the water to boil. "Because I want to and it pisses people off. Especially Saudi Arabia." Nargiza chuckled at that.

They both made small talk as they set up the table into an ornate arrangement and sat down on the couch.

Turkey sipped his tea. "So what did you wanna talk abou-"

"Sadik Adnan. What is this." She shoved her phone into his face, the screen burning into his retinas.

Focusing on the screen, his eyes widened in shock and surprise. He won. He won the tournament!

"Cool! I won! Did Soojin show you this?" Sadik cheered. "I wonder why she'd do that..."

"So you do know what this is about!"

"It wasn't me! I didn't nominate myself the users online made the tournament and voted and then I kept winning and winning and Lithuania kept winning also and all my fans—"

"YOU HAVE FANS?" Nargiza shouted in surprise.

From her minimal interaction with Lithuania during the USSR, she believed it was reasonable that he had fans. He was orderly yet brave in taking stands against Russia, and was generally kind, but would do anything for those he cared about, whether that was his people, or fellow countries, or anyone else. A nice, sweet man like that would definitely have a fanbase. But Turkey...?

"...Yes I have fans??? Anyway they were all there shaking because they were so scared I would lose. You know, one user even went so far as to promise a comic or a piece of writing about the aftermath of the tournament involving you and me—"

"So they're here now?! Show yourself!"

Tokki quaked behind the curtain as Nargiza singled her out.

Sadik(thankfully) swerved past the topic. "Who knows, it doesn't matter! I won!"

"I don't know if I should even congratulate you for the category you won, but...congratulations..." Nargiza's voice strained a little.

Sadik scooched closer to Nargiza's spot on the couch and held her by her cheek to examine her face. "Don't tell me.... you're jealous?"

"Wha-no I'm not! I just came here to clear up any confusion, that's all!" Her face reddened as she tried to avert her eyes to something that wasn't Sadik staring at her in the face.

"Mmm, okay," He thought, his voice dropping a little. "I just don't see why you of all people would book a flight on Friday immediately after seeing my victory, and come all the way to Turkey just to ask me what that was all about. You have my number and socials, you could have just called or DMed or something. Unless you wanted to see me in person because you're jealous..."

"Huh?! I would never...!"

"Admit it, Nargiz," he moved even closer. Her heart was beating so fast her mind struggled to catch up. Her face felt incredibly hot and she was sure Sadik could see it.

He gently picked up a strand of her hair and twirled it around his fingers. Breathing became a chore as his scent filled her lungs. She shuddered at the feeling of his breath tingling the shell of her ear.

Nargiza wanted nothing more than to stop thinking of him now, but she was trapped in his voice and scent and warmth and proximity. If he kept this up, she wouldn't be able to take it any longer...

"You want me all to yourself, don't you...?"

She blacked out.

——————

aka: big brother

Nargiz is the shortened nickname of Nargiza. I actually searched up the name meaning(because somehow i didn't ask my parents what the name means along the way) and according to various sources, it could mean something like "Fire flower" or "daffodil." I'll ask my mom later though.

I was originally gonna name her Yulduz, meaning star. It's fitting because of the 12 stars on the Uzbek flag!

#hetalia #turkuzbek #aph uzbekistan #hws uzbekistan #aph turkey #hws turkey #sadik adnan #the extended ending i planned for this was the other casians visiting after turkey panic called them #that he accidentally killed her #and nargiza wakes up to the sound of people fighting and screeching #lolool #tokki writes

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sissytobitch10seconds · 2 months

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Cut Through It

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Summary: Rivalries are very common within sports, especially ones that are as important as the Olympics are. They're going to figure it out, especially now that they have all these weird new feelings in addition to the original rivalry. Warnings: Mentions of sex, implied substance abuse/crimes, and referenced athletic transphobia Word Count: 3,064 Ship(s): Diego Hargreeves/Viktor Hargreeves

Archive link!

A/N: I just wanted to put a quick disclaimer at the beginning of this: I have never been to the Olympics nor am I very into sports. I just wanted to write a fic where they were at each other's throats in a competitive way but weren't in school. There are likely a lot of mistakes and inaccuracies in how this all works, but I just wanted to make something silly! I hope you can all enjoy. Stay sissy and bitchy anyone <3

“I’m going to kill him.”

The heavy door of the hotel room that he had been put up in by his team swung shut behind him with a resounding ‘click’ to let him know the lock was in place. Despite the fact that it was almost ten o’clock in the morning, the blinds and heavy curtains were still drawn over the window that overlooked the courtyard. There was a mess of clothing and technology spread out over the floor from the two open suitcases, along with a violin and the music stand that came with it. The bed on the right was made in the way that a normal human that didn’t work with housekeeping could manage while the one on the right was occupied with a lanky-looking body.

Viktor stepped up onto the bed and then nudged the figured underneath the blankets, which earned him a groan from the occupant. As soon as he was sure that he had actually woken the other man, he stepped onto his bed and then down onto the floor. “What?” Klaus asked when he poked his head out of his cocoon just in time to get blinded by the sunlight when Viktor took a curtain in either hand to wrench them open so that the daylight could come pouring in.

He whirled around and then clambered up onto his bed. He didn’t even care about the fact that his swimming shorts were soaking through his sweats. “I’m going to kill him,” he repeated.

He slipped off of the bed so that he was standing in the space between them and then began to dig through his suitcase despite half of the contents already being spread around the hotel room from the previous days that they had stayed together. He got out a comfortable pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt that he was going to wear his favorite flannel over.

Klaus let out a low grumbling noise as he burrowed further into his blankets, pulling them up over his head so that he could hide from the light. “You’re not going to kill him,” he sounded like he was yawning, but the sound was muffled by several layers of fabric.

“I am, he’s so fucking insufferable,” Viktor seethed. He didn’t even think about it as he stripped off his shirt and then his pants. His swimming trunks were peeled off of his skin and laid out over the crinkly plastic wrap that had already been put over a chunk of his bed so that he could dry them without having them in the bathroom since that was what made his last pair go moldy. He then shimmied into a pair of boxers and shoved his jeans on over the damp patches on his legs.

A lot of people that Viktor had dated when he was in college had thought that his ability to do that made him abnormal and weird, to the point that two people had actually broken up with him for it. Viktor had never really thought about it because he had been swimming since for as long as he could remember. His mother often joked that she had given birth to him right next to the pool because of how eager he was.

“I mean, who does he think he is? His coach was just sitting there while timing him, wasn’t even doing that whole pissing contest that they always do. It’s just him by himself being an absolute piss-poor person,” Viktor snarled.

“Careful there, Vik, you’re starting to sound like me,” Klaus laughed. He had seemingly realized that he wasn’t going to be getting anymore sleep and clawed his way out of his cocoon. He stretched his arms above his head so that his entire back popped loudly, tilting from the left before he moved to the right.

The warning did nothing to deter Viktor from his rant. He paused only as long as his shirt was over his head while he was jamming it onto his body before it picked up again. “I mean, does he think that he’s better than me just because he made it to the Olympics? Because newsflash! We’re both at the Olympics which is why he has to share the fucking pool.”

“I think that you just uncovered the true secret, dear,” Klaus slouched onto the floor as he began to search for the sundress that he was going to be wearing until they got to the archery range where he would meet up with his coach. Viktor still wasn’t sure how he had met Reginald Hargreeves in the first place or how the two of them managed to get along when the man was the most insufferably vile person that Viktor had ever met, but he worked well around Klaus’ issues and got him to actually show up for practice on time.

“Oh? And what’s that?” Viktor asked, flopping back down onto his bed now that he was effectively dressed. He had only started when he did so that he could get Klaus in a bit of a rush, but the other man was going to take far more time than he did.

“We’re at the Olympics. People don’t use that as a metaphor for when someone is being way too over the top about something or competing too hard for no reason,” he laughed. “He also probably thinks that you’re hot as shit.”

“What, with my brand new top surgery scars and unstable entry?” Viktor snorted as he flopped both of his arms over his face. He was a good swimmer and always had been, which was why his mother made the jokes about him being a rusalka reborn, but the committee that had entered him wasn’t sure about him on the grounds of his gender identity. It didn’t matter that there was photographic proof of him beating both of his parents times when he was seventeen or that he had tested the top out of a team of biological men, they didn’t like having his controversy supporting their country.

“Your entry is only unstable because of bigots and I know that Diego isn’t an entirely despicable human being,” Klaus said. The dress went over his head and then fell into place along his lean body just in the perfect amount of time for Viktor to fall in step behind him so that he could get the laces tied into place.

The smaller of the two men let out a little huff. “That’s it, I need to find a new best friend. Maybe Five can come with me the next time I go to the Olympics.”

Klaus let out a whine high enough to make a dog cringe. He whirled around and threw his arms messily over Viktor’s shoulders so that he was basically hanging off of his friend. “You don’t mean that, Vik, promise me that you don’t mean that,” he begged.

“Of course I don’t mean that, you absolute drama queen,” Viktor laughed. He wrapped his arms around his best friend’s waist and began to dance them back and forth in the space between their two beds. “Now get off of me so that I can finish tying your dress.”

“Gotta look nice for the paps that are convinced that we’re dating,” Klaus laughed.

Viktor groaned at the reminder of the article that had been spamming their private messages since they had stepped off of the plane several days ago. Having grown up with two semi-famous parents and being from Russia, Viktor wasn’t exactly new to the obsession that the world had with his personal life. Another couple of partners had broken up with him because they couldn’t stand the attention that he got on social media concerning his love life. The article stating that he had to be in a secret relationship with his best friend, going so far as to speculate that they had eloped or that he was pregnant, was enough to piss him off again. “God, I hate America.”

“But it’s where I live,” Klaus whined again.

“I know, and you also hate it here. Weren’t you just complaining about how Dallas is a million degrees and you could feel each one of the hairs on your balls because of how sweaty you are? Which is not how water works, by the way,” Viktor clawed his best friend off of him and then made Klaus turned around.

The other man stretched his arms up and changed the subject again, but Viktor barely blinked when he did because he was used to his friend doing that. It was one of the perks of having known Klaus since they were both too young to know each other’s languages. “Man, talking about your secret crush really does make you grumpy.”

Viktor pulled harder on the laces than he needed to as he finished the bow. He snarled, “I do not have a crush on Diego.”

---

As much as Diego loved swimming and had never felt more alive than when he was in the water, the breath of fresh air that he got whenever he stepped out of the locker rooms and into the streets was his favorite part of practice. It was like he was emerging back into the world from the safe cocoon of chlorine and lapping water.

He stood there for a moment, soaking in the noon-day sun and the sound of bustling people. He had showered and toweled off back when he was in the locker rooms, so he was dressed in his favorite jeans and a baggy letterman jacket from his college days. His mother had sewn a couple of good luck patches on it before he had left for the Olympics, which meant that he tried to wear it whenever he could.

“How was practice?”

Diego blinked and turned to the side to see his best friend standing there. She must have gotten out of practice early, or her coach had dragged her out of bed before the sun had even risen so that they could get to the range before Klaus and Reginald did. The Handler, which was the only thing that she allowed herself to be called anymore, was very competitive and that meant that all of her athletes also were.

Lila was wearing short tartan skirt that was pleated enough to flare out even when she was standing still. She had a ripped crop top underneath a leather jacket and fishnet gloves, though she had ripped them enough that they were basically just an outline of gloves clinging to her arms.

“It was alright,” he shrugged. Neither of them had to say anything as they peeled away from the front of the pool and began to walk towards the hotel where all of the athletes were staying. “Viktor was there.”

“Oh?” she asked, turning towards him and waggling her eyebrows.

“It’s not like that,” he shook his head. “He’s a fucking prick.”

Lila cackled at her own joke before she managed to get it out of her mouth, “I bet you would like to fuck his prick.”

His cheeks began to heat up despite himself. He was trying to push back the thoughts of the toned abs coming up to accentuate silvery-red half moon scars underneath his pectorals. Viktor was objectively good looking, which wasn’t that surprising given who his parents were, but he was also borderline cruel when it came to competing. Diego knocked his shoulder against Lila’s a little harder than necessary as he asked, “Can you take anything seriously for more than ten seconds?”

“No,” she shook her head, catching his eyes to hold his gaze for an uncomfortably long time.

He grumbled as he broke the eye contact and led them across the street. “I just don’t understand why he seems to think that he owns the pool. Like no one else can swim when he needs to. We’re all at the Olympics, we all need to practice so that we can do our best when we actually compete.”

“Maybe he does think that he’s better than you,” Lila shrugged. She was entirely unhelpful when it came to talking Diego out of holes that he tied to dig himself. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that she actively wanted him to get in trouble.

“I wouldn’t be surprised, seeing as both of his parents are fucking gold-medal Olympians themselves,” Diego rolled his eyes. It felt a little reverse-classist in a way to call Viktor conceited or claim things that he didn’t know if the other man actually felt. However, he did know that it was going to be easier for Viktor to make himself a name in the world of swimming because his mother had won at least three medals for Russia in her lifetime.

“I think that you just want to fuck him,” Lila shrugged. “Do you remember that boy with the red hair least year that you got in a fight with? You ended up knocking teeth with him so hard in the locker room that we had to go to the dentist.”

“You and Ma are never going to let me forget that,” he groaned. He could feel the tips of his ears and the back of his neck growing warm with embarrassment as he remembered what had happened. He hadn’t meant for the interaction to be so violent, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins from the match that he had just finished and the win that was so close to being within his grasp had made him go absolutely feral. He had ended up at the dentist for a chipped tooth, but it was also one of the better experiences that he had in his life.

Lila cackled, throwing her head back like she was some kind of evil witch. Diego vaguely remembered seeing a picture of her dressed up like that for one Halloween when her parents had actually managed to fly out for one of her competitions. She had fit the bill pretty well, which made him wonder for a moment if that Halloween was the only time that she had ever taken off her costume instead of putting one on. “Why would we let you forget it when it’s one of my favorite things ever? The Handler may have been pissed that I posted it all over my socials but I think that the people deserve to get to see what we’re really like instead of some stupid curated image. We’re not robots.”

“Yeah but she is,” Diego snorted. Lila was semi-protective over her coach but they had known each other long enough that he felt comfortable making statements such as that about the woman. He struggled to find the lines with other people, but Lila wasn’t one of them. She had very few lines drawn in the sand and all of the ones that she did have were closer to brick walls, so they weren’t hard to find.

The other athlete yawned and stretched both of her arms into the air. “I don’t know, her robotics have managed to get me out of several tight spots in the past, maybe she’s got something going for her.”

“I think that she wouldn’t have to get you out of any tight spots if you could just keep all of your clothes on in public,” Diego teased back. If she was going to bring up his kiss-induced dentist visit then he was going to give her a taste of her own medicine.

“That was one time, the other holes she had to dig me out of were me making inappropriate jokes about arrows where reporters could mishear me,” she stated immediately afterwards.

Diego resisted the urge to pout at her reaction. After years and years of friendship he had only managed to get her flustered a couple of times, but that was never going to stop him from trying again and again. Lila let out a semi-wistful sigh, like she was thinking about something that made her happy. “Maybe you should just fuck him and then you can get over whatever it is that’s going on with you,” Lila shrugged. “Then I don’t have to hear about it anymore.”

“I’m not going to fuck him, we’re going against each other in literally the most important tournament in either of our careers,” Diego rolled his eyes. “And you should stop talking about it so that I’m not distracted.”

Lila waved her hand at him dismissively, “There will be other Olympics. I think you should kiss him so that he’s distracted tomorrow.”

---

The locker room was quiet when both of the swimmers entered. They had competed with several other people, but they were the only ones that had peeled away from their coaches so that they could get warmed up before they waited for their results to be in. The room echoed with every step and movement that they both made.

Viktor walked to his locker and tugged out a fresh towel, one that wasn’t already soaked in chlorine. Diego hung back by the door and watched him as he moved. He stepped forward and stuck his hand out in front of the other, “Whoever wins, I just want to say that you did a good job.”

“Thanks, you too,” Viktor replied flatly as he took the gesture and shook. “Just wish that you didn’t have to be such a prick yesterday when I came down to use the pool.”

“Me? You were the one that was acting like I couldn’t be in the same body of water as you,” Diego scoffed. Neither of them noticed the way that their hands were still linked together, their minds racing with a number of other thoughts spurred on by anger, adrenaline, and their proximity to each other.

“Yes, you. You were the one that was taking up two lanes when you should have picked one. That way you could have at least competed with your ego instead of hogging the pool to yourself,” Viktor seethed, taking a step closer to the other swimmer.

“Have you ever considered just talking to someone about what’s going on in that head of yours before you just start saying shit?” Diego asked.

Neither of them were given much opportunity to speak to each other outside of that before their lips were crashing together in a deeply passionate kiss.

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #tua #the umbrella academy #viktor hargreeves #diego hargreeves #viktor x diego #diego x viktor #viego #cut through it fic

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