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willowrites · 4 months

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can you do a smut with chubby fem reader and sam? tysm !

WOULD WE?

SUMMARY. you were a big fan of sam and colby for years and when the opportunity to finally meet them presented itself to you…with no hesitation you took it …

PAIRINGS. (non-specific) chubby!fem reader x sam golbach & colby brock

WARNINGS. oral f!receiving, dirty talk, praising and a little bit of degradation, threesome ...

AUTHORS NOTE. hello! i’m sorry if this didn’t meet your expectations i wasn’t sure how to go about this or the specifics you wanted but hopefully i did the smut part right! enjoy ! lmk if u guys want a part 2 …!!! AND ALSO SORRY FOR LACKING! its been a crazy month …

“so guys next week is halloween and as you guys know we’re throwing a big party. you have to be over 21 i’m sorry,” colby said and shrugged. your heart jumped.

say it’s in la say it’s in la. you repeated.

“it will be in la, we’ll drop the address the day of. please come if you can and bring your ID!” sam confirmed.

you were there. mentally and physically you are going to be there. you already have a really sexy halloween costume planned so it was about time you used it.

you pressed play on the video after you had paused it.

“okay so truth or strip.” sam clapped. “if you can’t answer you get a bunch of ice dumped on you. should be fun.”

“we’ve done this before guys but this time, we’re gonna get a little spicy, we’re in a pool, and doing the ice bucket challenge.” colby said running a hand through his hair.

you were excited about this video. something about both of them just made you so happy.

“okay rock paper scissors who goes first,” sam said.

“okay okay.”

“rock paper scissors shoot!” they both exclaim.

scissors.

“rock paper scissors shoot!”

paper.

“rock paper scissors shoot.”

rock and scissors. sam won.

“noooo!!” colby whined.

sam pumped his fist and continued. “okay first question, have you ever lied to me. if so what was the lie.” after he asked that he eyed colby.

“well…no not outside of like a prank. i don’t think i’ve ever truly lied to you." he said frowning.

“not even once? like back in the day,” sam asks.

“nope, because i’m just real like that guys.” colby brags.

sam rolls his eyes. “well technically you didn’t answer soooo..” sam trails off while grabbing hold of one ice pack.

“no no no please.” colby whines but sam still pours the bag of ice.

“oh my god so cold so cold so cold,” he repeated.

“damn i should’ve had you take your shirt off first,” sam said but rolled his eyes as colby took his shirt off.

jesus, you wish you were there in person.

you continued on with the video until colby asked a very interesting question. both of them were shirtless and colby was in his boxers while sam was still in his swim shorts.

“would you have a threesome if i was the other guy.” sam widened his eyes.

“woah now that’s a question,” he said awkwardly while colby laughed and covered his face.

“well i-.” sam hesitates to answer the question. “i don’t know?” sam was blushing so hard.

he was just so cute.

“well i mean we have kissed and made out with the same girl.” colby shrugged.

“i…guesss yeah i mean. sure why not,” sam answered.

you were speechless. that night you dreamt of what it would be like to have both of you giving you sexual attention.

i mean…dreams come true, right?

“y/n are you almost done?” your best friend elena said.

you were finishing up touching up your hair and once you were done with that you would be finished getting ready.

you finished tying up your light blue ribbon on the other pigtail of your dorothy costume.

you were more like a sexy version of dorothy from wizard of oz.

you were wearing a white lacy bra that was more of lingerie which showed a generous amount of your cleavage. you then were wearing the light blue plaid dress which was silky on your body. it flattered your ass and you were so confident in it. then you were wearing thigh-high sheer white socks with light blue ribbons on top of where they meet your thighs then lastly you had red sparkly heels gracing your feet.

you checked yourself out in the mirror as you finished up your last curl.

“yes i’ll be out in a minute one sec!” you yelled out.

you did a natural makeup look not wanting to look too dramatic for dorothy but you applied more lip gloss as you got done with your curls.

“okay because we gotta go.” elena said through the door.

you tried to tidy up your space but it was no use. you would tend to it tomorrow.

“okay, how do i look.” you spin revealing your outfit to your friend.

“oh my god fuck me till i come you look so hot!!” your friend hyped you up. “what about me?” she spun around.

“thank you thank you!! and you look so hot let’s scissor right now.” you look her up and down. “elena dressed as elena gilbert? sexy!!! now let’s gooo i hope i get to talk to them.” you jumped up and down. you were so excited.

you heard the music bumping as you walked up to the mansion.

you wondered if this was their actual house or not. probably not or else they’d get bombarded by fans every day.

you held elena’s hand as she led you through the crowd of people chilling outside. we then reached the front.

“IDs! get your IDs out everyone!” the security said. you took your ID from your phone case not wanting to bring your purse or anything.

“you’re good lady’s have a good night.” the guard told us.

we smiled and then entered the house. it was a little less crowded than outside but it was very warm. all the windows were propped open to most likely try to keep the air flowing.

“i’m going to go get us drinks!” elena shouted over the loud rap playing through the speakers.

you nodded to show your understanding and just stood there.

you looked around the place trying not to fangirl over looking for sam and colby.

your eyes looked over the area. your eyes met the stairs and the kitchen but nothing. you were sure there were more rooms they’d probably be in doing their own business so you just wanted to leave it and have some fun.

“got the drinks!!” elena handed you a red plastic cup filled with god knows what. “just drink it and let loose a little!”

“i think i’m just going to get a soda.” you said not feeling the drink anymore. “i’ll be right back.”

she nodded “okay whatever you’re comfortable with baby i’ll be right here dancing!!”

you and elena were complete opposites. she was the partier and you were the …not partier?

let’s just say you’d prefer to be home but tonight is halloween you want to make the most of it.

as you were opening a can of soda someone bumped into you from behind causing you to cut yourself on the rim of the cup. you didn’t know how but you winced and saw as blood started making its way up to the surface of your thumb.

“oh shit! i’m so sorry!” you heard a familiar voice.

no fucking way no fucking way.

“are you okay? are you hurt?” the man says. the man? no, it’s fucking sam golbach.

“oh…i’m uh.” you stuttered. you couldn’t help it he looked so good. “yeah i’m okay.”

you were just staring at him. you tried to snap out of it but you couldn’t.

“a-are got sure?” he smiled and laughed at you. “mmm mm let me see your hand.” he grabbed hold of it and inspected your thumb. his hands were soft and warm.

you looked and inspected him while he inspected your thumb.

“shit this looks a little deep. i can’t really see right here follow me,” he yelled and took your hand and led you to and up the stairs into a room. he closed the door and led you to the bathroom.

“much quieter up here huh?” he started looking into the medicine cabinet. “go ahead and sit on the toilet for me.”

you sat on the covered toilet waiting patiently but trying to figure out if you were dreaming or not.

sam was right in front of you. you were in someone's room, if you were lucky you were in his.

"im really sorry by the way. i was trying to talk to one of my friends and i didn't see where i was going." he took your hand in his trying to clean it with a towel. "this might hurt so im just warning you, talk to me to distract yourself. what are you doing here?"

he grabbed the alcohol, poured it on a swab, and put it over your thumb.

"fuck." you whispered trying to pull your hand away but sam kept it there looking at you. "um..i saw it on your youtube. and i follow you on instagram."

"oh? so do you watch colby and i?" he's still rubbing your thumb.

you nodded. the way he was speaking had you wanting to get on your knees right now.

"how did you like our most recent video-" sam got interrupted by a knock.

"yo sam! you in here bro?" you heard colbys voice. colby. you were genuinely nervous.

"yeah in here." sam talked back. you heard colby close the door and walk your way.

"hey bro where did you go...oh." he saw you sitting on top of the toilet as sam was cleaning your tiny wound. "hello.." he smiled or more like smirked.

"hi..." you whispered wincing again as sam did his last rubs on your cut.

"im sorry im sorry," sam whispered throwing the swabs in the trash and digging for something else in the medicine cabinet.

"i like your costume." colby complimented you leaning on the doorway.

"thank you...i thought i looked good." you softly smiled looking down at your sparkly heels.

"she said she's a big fan of ours colby." sam looks at colby.

"oh really?" he grinned looking you up and down while crossing his arms in front of him. "im very glad you're a fan. we have the most attractive fanbase out there for sure then.”

“i guess so..” you laughed nervously. the way you saw the outline of his biceps from his fitted shirt.

“okay you’re all bandaged up,” sam said. you inspected your hand seeing he did a good job of bandaging it up.

boyfriend material.

“thank you…” you stood up. “i’m sorry if i ruined your experience or your fun.”

“no, you didn’t babe. you practically saved me from all the drunks.” sam moved so that you could get past him and exit the bathroom.

you smiled and walked past finally being able to inspect the room you were in.

kind-sized bed with an interesting color palette.

“going so soon?” colby questioned? taking two steps forward towards you.

“uh…well i assumed you didn’t want a random girl i-in your room and that you just…um wanted to have some space after cleaning up my mess.” you looked down at the ground.

“my mess silly.” sam chuckled.

“you seem nervous. what’re you nervous about, baby?” colby purred. you clenched your thighs together hoping it wasn’t visible.

“i’m not- i’m not nervous.” you denied not wanting to show any weakness even though you literally are about to fall to your knees right now.

“you sure?” he bit his bottom lip. “what’s your name?”

“y/n…” you felt the room get hotter as sam turned off the bathroom light and stood next to colby.

“mmm pretty name for a pretty girl.” colby said brushing a few frizzed curls on your head. “don’t you think sam?”

“yeah i mean very very pretty girl.” you couldn’t see but sam was checking you out. he was wondering if he would have to leave to hide his boner.

“pretty girl…watching our videos. you watch our videos a lot?” his voice was laced with a tone you couldn’t detect.

“yes i’ve watched every single one.” you walked backward the back of your knees hitting the bed causing you to sit down.

“well i mean, you deserve a reward don't you think? for being such a good fan?” colby’s hand moved to your chin. “if you’re looking for one of course. your choice princess.”

“what kind of rew-“ you started but got cut off.

“mmm think you know…” sam whispered.

“i’m confused…you don’t even know me why would you…” you didn’t realize what was fully happening until colby was moving the strap of your blue plaid dress down your shoulder.

“we could get to know each other…more ways than one.” he chuckled. “white lingerie..so pure and innocent.”

"colby let her breathe." sam stepped forward. "we'll do what you want beautiful girl. just say the word."

you felt lightheaded. was this really happening. colby was straight-up flirting with you and suggesting some...insane things.

reward? what kind of reward? a quick fuck?

"can i?" colby kneeled on one knee and whispered in your ear. he was toying with the strap of your costume.

before you even processed anything your head was nodding to his question.

"gonna need you to say something for me, baby. verbal consent you know?" his hand trailed down your arm causing goosebumps to play follow the leader.

"yes.." you let out breathlessly.

he was bringing your costume down your body; his lips ghosting your delicate skin. then he puckered and placed kisses on where your costume's strap once sat.

his lips made their way from the shoulder to your neck and then to the base of your throat. “such a good girl.” he said in a praising tone. “don’t worry baby i’ll give you a reward. a really really good one. i’m on my knees anyway. then sam will be able to have his fun with you. sound good baby?”

you were already so wet from his dirty words. you looked up and saw sam. his eyes darkened. he peered at you waiting for your response. he smiled when you made eye contact with him and you saw the flood of lust in his eyes.

“yes…” you nodded frantically. as if on command as soon as his hands made their way in the middle of your thighs they spread apart like magic. his touch giving you goosebumps and causing your hands to prop yourself up behind you.

"already so desperate for me? dirty dirty girl. barely even know me." he started kissing your thigh then made his way in between them. "its crazy how sam and i were just chatting about threesomes and shit, and now we have an innocent little angel right here for the both of us."

you could tell colby’s fortey was dirty talk…

“can’t even speak to me? being a bad girl, baby.” he scoffed. “can i punish you like one?”

and degradation too…jesus.

it was embarrassing how soaked your cunt was.

“such soft skin.” he kissed his way up your thigh. “wanna mark it up. imagine how gorgeous you would look.”

“she looks beautiful.” sam spoke up. he sat on the bed right next to you combing your hair to one shoulder and planting his lips on your neck. “prettiest fan out here.”

their words were making their way straight to your hot pussy.

speaking of, colby’s lips finally reached your white lacy underwear.

“so delicate and so innocent.” he whispered, his lips against your clothed clit. “wanna make you come so hard. do you wanna come, baby?”

you nodded frantically as sam starts sucking tiny love bites along your collarbone.

you felt colby’s lips kiss your pussy and place his tongue on top clicking a stripe up. it was killing you how your thin underwear was preventing a sensation you were begging to have.

he sucked and licked making you tug his hair and try to push him closer for more pressure.

"sam hold her hands." he groaned, the vibration sending you in shock.

"mmm let's just have her lay down." he whispered loud enough for both of you to hear.

"right then, scoot back baby." he stood up. you scooted backward on your elbows until your head hit the soft pillow on the king-sized bed. "can i take these off?" he played with your underwear.

you lifted your hips up in response so that he could slide them off.

he took them off with one hand and flung them across the room. he leans forward propping himself on his arms face to face with your womanhood.

"sam make sure the door is locked, yeah? can't have anyone looking at our angel." he kitten licked your clit afterward catching you off guard.

his tongue on your hot pussy was what you craved but not what you needed. you needed him to dive in. you wanted to be devoured and afterward wanted both of them in you, as deep as possible.

you heard the knob of the door of the bedroom click and sam lie down beside you.

"so beautiful," sam whispered. you turned toward him enjoying his repeated words. his eyes landed on your lips then to your eyes once more. you took this as a chance to connect your lips with his.

immediately he responds molding his lips with yours. his lips were soft and intoxicating. his hand came in contact with your chin taking control of the kiss. you were deep in not thinking about anything else when all of a sudden colby gave a harsh lick upwards on your clit, he then started sucking giving you no time to catch your breath.

you moaned into sam’s mouth and pulled him closer to help you gain control of yourself.

colby licked, sucks, pulled and you couldn’t stop the feelings of tightness in your lower belly. his tongue tepidly moving on your puffy clit, the sensitivity of it growing more by the second.

“oh fuck…” you moaned having to pull away from sam’s kiss.

“taste so good.” colby groaned against you pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth. he picked up your right thigh and threw it over his shoulder while pushing down your other trying to get you to open up more. you involuntarily start grinding your hips against his mouth to increase the friction you so desperately need. “that’s it, baby. use my mouth. cmon make yourself come.”

colby’s words spurred you on to continue to move your hips at a fast pace and you were doing great, your eyes clenched shut while you chased what you wanted but your hips stuttered at the feeling of two fingers making their way inside of you.

“o-oh god.” a breathless moan escaped your pink lips. you open your eyes and look at the sight beneath you. colby dripping in sweat. his tongue on your folds paired with his palm facing down and two fingers deep into your cunt.

he was thrusting his fingers painfully slow and you needed more.

“colby, please…need…need” you couldn’t get your words out.

“what do you need baby?” sam caressed your hair.

“need you guys…fuck. need it so bad,” you begged. you wanted one if not both of them deep inside you to snap that rubber band that was waiting to be cut.

“aw, sweet thing. begging so soon.” you glanced at his face as his words reached your ears, the sight of him pleasing your eyes. saliva dripping down his pretty mouth and onto your lower lips wetting your pretty pussy even more; as if that was possible. “still haven’t gotten enough of you. you’re addicting.”

he sped up the pace of his fingers drilling into you. you saw in a quick moment he swiftly took his shirt off and then dove back in. his back muscles moving as his hand penetrated your sensitive spot.

you felt that tight band in your lower stomach on the edge of exploding. whimpers involuntarily escaped out of your mouth.

he tongue repeatedly stroking your irritated clit pushing you more and more to the edge.

“oh my god fuck…” you screamed as you were right there. you wanted to let go so bad.

“that’s it, pretty girl, scream. wanna hear how good you feel.” sam spoke, trailing his fingers alongside your body.

you were repeating the word please over and over again as if it’d bring you off the edge faster.

as if to distract you sam kissed up the side of your neck and reached your ear. “can i take this off you?” he motioned towards your lacy bra.

you nodded wanting to please him.

he tapped the side of your body as if to sign for you to arch your back up and in perfect timing colby took a bite of your clit with his lips and pulled it towards him causing you to groan hard and arch your back; pleasing sam.

sam unclasped your bra and immediately started kissing your perky breasts. he sucks one of your tits in his mouth while massaging the other.

the actions sam was performing on you were just what you needed before your body seized in ecstasy. pleasure washed over your body. your lips slammed shut trying to muffle the sounds of your impending orgasm.

“go on baby. let us hear how good you feel.” sam kissed you causing your moans to escape from his mouth and meet his.

colby didn’t stop devouring your sweet leaking juices; disregarding how sensitive you were.

you screamed and whimpered while you were coming down from your orgasm. half of you trying to push colby’s mouth away and the other half wanting more. his mouth was addicting.

your clit was so sensitive but colby continues to devour you flicking his tongue on your bud.

“c-can’t… too sensitive,” you whined. colby laughed and continued his antics.

"okay baby." he kissed your pussy. you felt empty as he pulled out his fingers and suddenly wanted more.

he climbed back up the bed and gave you a chaste kiss before tapping your lips with his fingers.

"open up. c'mon taste yourself," he whispered. you opened your mouth and took his digits in tasting yourself on his fingers.

you had kept eye contact with him before making eye contact with sam. sam had a deep blue shade of lust in his eyes so you had decided to pull your mouth from wrapping around colby’s fingers to grabbing sam in a heated kiss.

he had moaned into your mouth making your pussy pulse once again.

“need you..” you moaned reciprocated wanting to make sure he’s aware of how much you’re enjoying this as well.

“want you so bad.” he moves his lips to your chin and then neck. “you’ve been such a good girl.”

“she has.” colby groaned from behind your head sitting beside you and finding a way to show you how large the erection in his baggy costume was. “want my cock?”

you nodded eagerly.

“i’ll give it to you baby. we’ll both give it to you.” colby started to grind himself on you.

from then on out, let’s just say you didn’t stop having fun.

#colby brock smut #colby brock imagine #sam and colby imagine #sam and colby smut #colby brock #sam x reader #sam goldbach #sam golbach #sam and colby #colby x reader #colby brock x reader #xplr #colby

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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 1 year

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idk fuck it. cait/fahrenheit draft. do you ever disassociate so bad you can only remember things in third person. canon-typical warnings for cait's addiction (non-specific, hopefully i did a kinder job than the game)

It was just a fucking-hell-we’re-alive kiss. It didn’t mean anything.

Cait had been kissed within an inch of her life after escaping a gas explosion in a Super-Duper Mart by lots of girls. She never thought about them two weeks later, when she was supposed to be covering Mac’s scrawny ass as he looted a pharmacy.

The scrawny ass in question was throwing itself against a second-floor supply closet until she shouldered him out of the way and wrenched it open. The closet contained the usual litter of crumbling Abraxo boxes, rusty tools, decaying mops, and shattered plastic buckets. The exciting thing was the safe, encrusted with rust and some mystifying barnacles. “Where’s that gun oil you always have?”

Mac didn’t take the bait. She dumped the entire standard, completely normal little tube into the lock with only minor background grumbling about how the replacement would come out of her share. She halfheartedly poked at the worst of the rust, thinking about absolutely nothing.

It was like it had happened to someone else. She could replay it in her brain from a weird top-down view, like a bad trip of Daddy-O.

There was absolutely no evidence that Bobbi No-Nose had ever used the Super Duper Mart as a base of operations, or that anyone had been through in the last ten years. There were a hell of a lot of ferals and a gas leak behind the lunch counter. After they tumbled out onto the loading dock, not even a little bit on fire, miraculously un-shrapneled, Fahrenheit had laughed with the raw joy of not getting eating by ferals or dying in a gas explosion, put the flamer down very gently, and grabbed Cait by her vest straps.

Without really thinking about it, Cait had dropped her chin, right hand to Fahrenheit’s right wrist, knee to Fahrenheit’s gut, left palm to Fahrenheit’s chin–

“How long does that oil need to sit in there?”

“As long as it needs to get used to the idea of getting nice and relaxed and open before I get my fingers in there.” She maintained the leer until Mac stomped back downstairs and didn’t pick up a bobby pin until he was all the way at the front of the pharmacy.

She’d spun Fahrenheit away and pinned her against the hood of a Chryslus tipped down over a retaining wall, almost standing on its nose. She hadn’t noticed the skeleton spilling out of the cockpit until much later, because while she was trying to pin Fahrenheit’s wrists she’d been kissed.

It was not, objectively, a very good kiss. The little action figure of Cait in her memory been on guard against the wrong thing, ducked her chin a little to protect it, hadn’t thought about where a flimsy pre-War canister of Jet had cracked in her mouth earlier. Fahrenheit’s eyetooth opened Cait’s lip. Their teeth clacked. Cait gasped and bit her on purpose instead of moaning.

Fahrenheit’s eyes were gray, the pupils rimmed with gold. “You like your fun a little rough, huh? Not surprised.”

Mac leaned over her and dropped a handful of bobby pins on top of the safe.

“If you don’t fuck off I’ll shove this screwdriver up your skinny–”

“Geez! I’m just helping!” He dodged her ineffectual stab. A flatblade wouldn’t really do much damage, something properly triangular and proprietarily Chryslus would really ruin his day. Shame the pharmacy didn’t carry them.

She’d been so startled by the kiss she’d dropped Fahrenheit’s wrists. Fahrenheit could have stabbed her or done any number of things, but instead she got an ankle around Cait’s and flipped them.

Cait had said something admittedly bratty about being taken for a ride and braced herself against the car. It only creaked a little. She’d widened her stance, still ready to trip Fahrenheit. This was probably when she’d acquired the long scrape across her lower back.

Fahrenheit had promptly shoved closer, hiking a boot up on the bumper and leaning hard against Cait’s knee. “Are you always such a brat, or is this a special occasion?” She’d still been bleeding from Cait’s bite.

Cait had said something about what kind of person doesn’t count getting rescued from a burning building as a special occasion. Cait had not planned on paying her back so soon and licked the blood off her own lip to buy time, watching Fahrenheit watch her.

“Promises, promises,” Fahrenheit had taken her glove off the fast way, with her teeth. She’d been practically sitting on Cait’s knee, pinning her to the car by the hip and petting along the little strip of skin between vest and belt. Cait found that she didn’t particularly want to go anywhere anyway.

Fahrenheit gave her… from Cait’s memory it looked like a proper movie kiss, if girls ever kissed in pre-War movies. The sense-memory involved more teeth. Cait had revised her opinion of Fahrenheit’s weird knee armor.

She’d cracked her head on the dashboard when Fahrenheit let her up for air. She’d picked her head back up to see if she could get kissed again and noticed (less important) the skeleton spilling out of the Chryslus’ cockpit and (more important) the feral crawling over the retaining wall. The order in which she cracked a joke about how they were even now, shot the ghoul, lost the lovely friction of Fahrenheit’s knee, and pulled Fahrenheit’s pistol escaped her.

The trip back to Goodneighbor was a series of running skirmishes, and they said what they needed to say to survive.

Cait found herself staring at an empty safe.

She looked up to yell for Mac and found him leaning over her again. He’d put a whole crate of Psycho down behind her and she hadn’t even noticed.

“Welcome back! Almost thought you forgot about me.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, MacCready.”

“C’mon, let’s divvy these up. We can sleep in real beds tonight and you can get that scrape on your back looked at.”

Doctor Amari bent Cait over a gurney in a very unsexy way. “I’m so happy I gave you that tetanus shot when you weren’t paying attention last time.” Before Nate had vanished, he’d dropped her off in Goodneighbor with a concussion and fucked off somewhere only God and Valentine knew.

Cait and MacCready and Valentine supervising had looted the shit out of Nate’s two Diamond City houses, couriering some money out to Preston in a fit of guilt and Valentine’s disapproval. There had been no need to step outside, let alone trek over to Goodneighbor for a solid month until the Jet ran out and she had to look for dishonest employment again.

Amari poked the perfect thumbprint on her hip with a frown. “Mac not treating you right, Cait?”

Cait barked out a rusty laugh despite herself. “Wasn’t him. That jumped-up little idiot can barely keep body and soul together.”

“Well, these antibiotics shouldn’t interfere with your birth control, but you are on your way to a nasty infection. Please try to rest up, and I mean really rest up for at least a few days.”

The entire day left Cait so grouchy she went through most of her share of Psycho inside a week instead of selling it, and couldn’t turn Mac down when he brought her another job for two people.

#frank don't reblog #robot collaboration NOT welcome #i do not know if the flashbacks have the intended effect please chime in about what effect they had on you

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clatterbane · 2 years

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Another tomato seedling successfully planted out! Actually did that yesterday evening, but was waiting for more daylight before getting any photos of the actual plant today.

Between one thing and another, I didn't manage to get any further work done on that until late yesterday.

Holes duly drilled in a couple of the remaining buckets, using that smallest (#10) flat wood boring bit that's sticking up this time. He apparently went with a smaller general purpose bit before, but this worked well enough for me to use it again.

There may or may not still be some little plastic shavings yet to be vacuumed up from the floor out there. 😊

This time, I decided to try a little different approach that I saw suggested somewhere, and put the drainage holes a couple of inches up from the bottom. Went for 6 of them, and hopefully that'll work fine. This should hopefully give the plants a little more water reservoir so they won't try out as bad, while still having decent drainage. Sounded worth a try! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(Yeah, I just eyeballed it.)

I showed some modicum of sense, and actually asked him to schlep one of the remaining sacks of potting soil in there. He estimated it at like 40kg/90 lbs, so yeah I wasn't really exaggerating saying the other one wasn't the lightest weight ever. 😬 No peat/perlite/vermiculite in there, but a lot of moisture. And we still have 2 more sacks of the stuff to haul out there.

I also got him to go ahead and divide the contents up between the ready buckets. Much easier than my currently scrawny ass trying to wrestle it again while sitting or on my knees.

The other one, for those compact trailing cherry tomatoes, is set up in front of the full-length glass on the other side. I am hoping to get that one planted up in a little while. May try and dump a little more soil in first, though.

The soil was still pretty clumpy in these pics, and went a little higher up in the buckets after I grubbed around in there with my hands to break it up some. But, I do have a plan with the "start out just part of the way full" approach!

The idea is to hopefully encourage a better root system by not only planting the seedlings as deep as I reasonably can, but also top up the soil further up the stem after they get some more growth. Take advantage of the way tomatoes will happily send out roots anywhere the stem touches the ground, to give them a stronger start.

Judging by the way the first plant in has already been taking off, with any luck that won't take very long!

It was about the size of the other one when it went in. There's enough room in the top of that one to add a little more soil, too. Maybe tomorrow. Then I am tempted to finally seed some of the basil in there, possibly enough to transplant over into any other containers that need it too.

This little change of plans with when the other containers should be full of soil has thrown a little wrench in the works, with adding the basil seeds and little marigold plants in. 😑 But, I'll figure something out, if it means moving the waiting marigolds up into some larger temporary pots in the meantime. They're still pretty tiny, though all ready for transplanting now.

But yeah, getting this stuff done much slower than I would have liked, thanks to the limited spoon supply and all that. Still getting it done, however. And I am very glad to finally get some tomatoes growing, after several years of not even being this able to do much gardening

#long post #plants #tomato plants #balcony gardening #container gardening #better than nothing #however limited

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maveras-posts · 2 years

Note

Michael and Sam (family bonding headcannons)

🍬✨Michael Babysits Sam✨🧡:

How Michael & Sam became close:

Okay…so the gang was gonna have another night out (It will lead to ✨CHAOS✨)

Michael wasn’t for the BS so he decided to stay home

But that meant watching Lil Sam (Poor thing is the youngest in the group)

Michael is probably the most responsible in the house tho tbh

Michael never really thought of Sam other than a roommate(never rly noticed Sam to begin with)

Sam was excited (Michael is his ✨IDOL✨)

Michael kicked back on the recliner and was going to play the XBOX (imagine him with a headset 💀)

Until he felt a tug on his sleeve…he was met with little Sam cooing at him.

Stabby Boi doesn't know WHAT TO DO?!?!

Michael is pretty neutral when it comes to children…he never put too much thought into them

Heaving a sigh he gets up and crouches down to Sams level

Sam points to the kitchen

Michael can barely feed himself ADD A WHOLE ASS CHILD

He gives Sam candy corn…Yes you read that right ✨CANDYCORN✨

Sam don’t mind, Sam LOVES ANYTHING TO DO WITH HALLOWEEN

HE LITERALLY INHALES THE CANDY and he DEMANDS MORE

Sam begins to conjure all that is unholy

Michael is just standing there like🧍‍♂️

Honestly Michael is amused (It’s really hard to upset him & is actually VERY patient)

But something about this lil demon child crying is making him…feel bad

So Michael picks up Sam & SPEED WALKS to his room

The candy corn is the household’s candy—but Michael has a HUGE STASH

Michael grabs his ✨Blue Pumpkin Bucket✨ from under his bed & hands it to Sam

It’s filled with CHOCOLATE (Sam's favorite)

Michael tilts his head as Sam slowly chews the Snickers bar (Michael LOVES Snickers)

Sam looks up to Michael, back to the bar and decided to split it & offers the other half to Michael while cooing at him (SOO CUTE OMFG🥺😭🤚)

Michael takes the candy but is lowkey confused (No one has shared with him before)

Sam hopping down from the bed snaps Michael from his thoughts

Sam holds up Michael’s Knife, gesturing to it before dropping it

Sam runs to his room and rushes back with his ✨LOLLIPOP✨ (His shank)

He also ✨DUMPS✨ out his bag of candy

Michael is surprised with Sams little gestures

The two trade each other for their fav candies

After that the two grow bored so Michael tries to find ✨ENTERTAINMENT✨

Sam raises his arms up causing Michael to tilt his head

Michael picks up Sam and speed walks while Sam giggles

Sam pretends to ✨FLY✨ like a superhero

The two end up watching Scooby Doo to pass the time (They glued to the TV)

The two end up dozing off

The slashers walk in and find Michael holding Sam

Michael now tries to find ANY excuse to watch Sam

LOWKEY have father & son bond 😭🤚 (SO CUTE OMFG🥺✨)

AN: Thank you @quinnellathegreat666 for this suggestion! I love the dynamic that Michael and Sam have from my previous writings & it was fun to go further into this part of the Slasher House Series! Hopefully everyone enjoys this post, it was so fun & such a CUTE idea OMFG! I am considering writing more Mikey & Sam content in the future, as always any requests & suggestions are welcome!

💕Stay Spooky!👻

-M

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tobesobri · 4 years

Photo

Nervous

the one where Y/N might be insane but Harry is definitely a shy nervous idiot. (~7k)

thank you @ anon for requesting this! I tried to do it justice, but I’ve honestly never written Harry this way so 😬hopefully it’s decent. Apart from this being probably the only request i’ve ever done, this is also my first piece of one-off writing i’ve posted in a long time, so I do really hope yall enjoy it as much as I do! Thank you to @fromyourstrulyh @aileenacoustic & @smokeinherperfume for beta reading and just generally being incredible ❤️As always, your feedback, thoughts or just a reblog are super appreciated!!

The busy conversation could not overpower the way the sun felt on Y/N’s skin. Sometimes it burned a little too hot, but other times it felt just right and she found herself basking in it, ignoring all her friends a few times too many. She knew if they were any further inland from the beach, the hot L.A. sun would be completely unbearable, but the breeze that swooshed through the courtyard every so often was enough to make the weather practically perfect.

She no longer regretted going for one of her summer dresses that had straps and a shorter hemline. Her other options had been one with sleeves or a midi skirt, but either of those would have left her boiling, even if she only had her bathing suit on underneath. The last thing she needed when seeing all her friends again was to be sweating buckets.

Especially in front of Harry.

She couldn’t remember when he’d first joined their ever-growing group, but she wasn’t going to complain about it. He was nice to look at, which was just about all she ever did because he wasn't a man of many words. All of their conversations burnt out within a couple minutes. She never had any idea what to say to him because frankly, he intimidated her. All of her friends had various connections to Hollywood, but he was most definitely the most famous person she knew. So knowing what to even say to Harry was a whole other obstacle than just simply being acquainted with him.

But she did like to look at him whenever she could get away with it. Particularly when he was chatting with someone else and she obsessed over the way his dimples went in and out of his cheeks every time he smiled. If she wasn’t staring at his face and admiring the freckles or how green his eyes were in the sun, she shamelessly watched his hands. Whether it was while he articulated them in conversation, or while he picked up his sandwich to take another bite, she couldn’t take her eyes away from them.

She wanted nothing more than for him to just have a normal fucking conversation with her like he did with everyone else.

“Hey.” Mel nudged her elbow into Y/N’s side, forcing her eyes away from Harry for the first time in the past three minutes. “Do you want to share a slice of chocolate cake?”

And for the first time since they’d sat down, something other than Harry piqued her interest. With enough sparkle in her eyes to blind someone, Y/N nodded eagerly. “That shouldn’t even be a question.”

Mel shrugged and looked over the dessert menu again to pick out the right slice of chocolate cake between a plain one, one filled with fudge in the middle, and one packed with triple chocolate--whatever that meant.

Trev, who sat beside Harry and right across from Y/N, folded his arms and leaned onto the table, “So Mel, how’s it going with that guy, uh… Alan?”

Mel rolled her eyes but kept them glued to her options of chocolate cakes, “It’s Adam.”

“Does it matter?”

Y/N bit back a smile and sat against her seat, waiting for the typical show between Trev and Mel where he let his jealousy spew out like boiling hot lava and made fun of whatever dude she was seeing all because he was too up his own ass to just ask her out. It was entertaining for the whole table, though, and especially for Y/N.

It was then, in the heat of Mel’s insults about Trev’s own miserable love life, that Y/N and Harry shared a glance, and only a glance because it was so quick, she thought she was imagining things. Just the familiar green of his irises burned into her eyelids was enough to know it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her. She’d been snickering at the two in front of her when she blinked over at him, possibly because he had already been looking at her. As soon as she did, however, within less than a second he’d looked away. She would take it, and the way it made her entire insides feel like they were being electrocuted, and run with it though. He’d looked at her for the first time all afternoon and she just might gain the courage to try and talk to him again. If he would let her of course.

She thought about their last conversation and how it seemed like centuries ago, but also may have been the reason he hadn’t said a word to her today yet. A smaller portion of their group had gone to LACMA on an off day so it wasn’t as busy. She tried to talk to him about the Diego Rivera painting he’d been standing in front of which he had humorously mistaken for Frida Kahlo. Looking back on it though, she cringed at the way she’d laughed at his mistake because he probably didn’t find it all that funny. He had still laughed right along with her, as his cheeks reddened with embarrassment and he tried to find a quick escape to avoid interacting with her again on their museum trip--which he had done, successfully.

He knew Diego Rivera from Frida Kahlo, though, he wasn’t stupid, but whenever she was around and he had to communicate with her, he turned into a big dumb pile of mush who wouldn’t be able to tell his left foot from his right. He had never been so fucking nervous around someone in his entire life, and so naturally, he no clue what to make of her.

The bickering between Mel and Trev died down when their waitress returned to take dessert orders as a busboy collected dirty dishes. Although dessert was Y/N’s favorite part of every meal, she found herself pouting at the thought of their afternoon passing by a lot quicker than she expected it to.

The topic of discussion shifted once the sweets all arrived and suddenly they were all going on about Tiger King conspiracies that Y/N knew jack shit about, but still listened intently as if she did. She asked a dumb question every once in a while, which made everyone at the table groan in frustration. Eventually, though, they got onto more topics she didn’t understand the references to so she gave up.

Instead, she found herself eyeing Harry’s sampler of various cookies, particularly his painted fingers as he broke off pieces and popped them in his mouth. He had had black nail polish on at some point, but most of it had chipped off by now. The rings he usually wore to excess had dwindled down to just one on his middle finger. She missed them, even though she was sure his poor hands were in desperate need of a break from all the jewelry. His tattoos were on full display now, soaking up all the sun they could after being under long sleeve sweaters all winter. The black ink stood out against his slightly tanned skin, and especially against the red, floral print flowy button up he wore. She felt like it’d been ages since she saw him in something so casual, but they were all headed to the beach soon after all.

“Do you want some?” When she heard his voice, her eyes shot up to his face, realizing she’d been caught. Realizing he was looking at her and speaking to her because she’d been staring at his fucking hands not the cookies.

Since she couldn’t let him know about that, she nodded, “Uh sure.”

She felt even worse about taking a half of a chocolate chip cookie from him when he reached across the table and his poor, beautiful hand collided with her half-full cocktail glass that instantly dumped all over the table. It caught everyone’s attention when the glass broke and quickly Y/N and Trev grabbed napkins to soak up the liquid before it reached their laps while Val saved their plates.

Harry hid his face in his hands after placing the half of a cookie down on his plate again, utterly embarrassed by himself. “I’m so sorry,” He mumbled between his fingers after dragging his hands down his face dramatically to see the mess he’d made.

“Literally the clumsiest fucker I know, you know that?” Trev said while sopping up the rest of her drink and discarding the used napkins on an empty plate. Val called over their waitress once she was close enough to help deal with the broken glass.

“Can I buy you another one?” Harry asked, his cheeks flushed red when she looked at him again and it was definitely not from the sun. He looked embarrassed and apologetic and she was positive he felt stupid because she knew she would in his place, but it made her sad that he thought any of that when it was just a silly mistake.

Harry definitely would not have minded sinking into oblivion right there and then.

“No it’s alright, wasn’t that good of a drink anyways.” She shrugged, easing his nerves just a tad, but he still felt horrible.

“I’ll pay for that one then.” He concluded, not giving her a chance to shoot him down this time, however. And when the checks came long after Harry’s incident that gave him plenty of time to recover, she didn’t have much say in it either when he snatched up her check before the waitress could even hand it to her.

Y/N could easily pay for herself, but if Harry insisted she wasn’t going to argue. It was his way of feeling better about the situation and she’d leave it be, even if it did bug her that he said he’d pay for her drink, not her entire bill. She kept her mouth shut, however, and just gave him a mean look so at least he knew she wasn’t happy about it, even if she had no intentions to stop him.

She escaped to the restroom while everyone wrapped up, knowing she’d have to go the second she got near the ocean later and she did not want to use the disgusting public bathrooms at the beach. They were always full of sand, salty water, and smelled ten times fishier than normal.

Her confidence was at an all time high when she looked in the mirror, wondering if it had been the sun or Harry to do it to her, but either way it really didn’t matter. She felt like she was on a cloud and like nothing could touch her or bring her back down.

Except, of course, when she walked back out to reality and realized everyone had already made their ways to the Malibu coastline. Sighing, she pulled her phone from her little crossbody bag and walked towards the main entrance. Before she got too far into her Uber app, she glanced up at a familiar shade of bright red floral print standing near the doors and instantly floated back up to the clouds.

“Did everyone leave?” She asked once she walked up to Harry. He held onto a cardboard box of leftovers in one hand and his keys in the other. His sunglasses, that were previously perched on the neck of his shirt, had made their way to the top of his head, pushing his hair back from his face.

He nodded. “I, um… I didn’t know if you had a ride, or...?” He stumbled and she wasn’t sure why, but it was cute nonetheless, especially since she initially had the impression that Harry would be a little more self-assured than he was turning out to be. That was what she liked best about him though, that he tripped over his words and confused artists and spilled drinks.

She held up her phone in her hands and smiled, “I’m getting an Uber.”

He furrowed his brows, but she didn’t notice when she resumed picking out the cheapest option on the app to take her down PCH as she maneuvered around him and stepped back out into the warm summer afternoon.

He followed quickly, nearly tripping over himself and then cleared his throat, “Well, um, I’ve got a car.”

She paused, glancing at him over her shoulder while she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What kind of car?”

He had no clue why she’d asked him that, but given the little smirk on her lips, he had an inkling that if he didn’t have the right kind of car, she’d prefer to stick with her Uber options. What he was positive about, however, was that he’d never liked her more than he did right there in the parking lot as she planned on roasting his choice of transportation.

“Uhm...” He glanced around the lot until he found his car and then pointed it out, “that one.”

Her eyes fell to a bright yellow, convertible 1972 Ferrari Dino and she tried her best to not let him see the way her jaw practically hit the asphalt beneath their flip flops. Instead, she swallowed, stood up straight, faced him, and put her phone away.

“That will do.”

The surface streets were quiet, even though she’d forced him to put the top down while they drove. They were boring, too. She wanted to throw her hands up and feel the air between her fingers and flowing through her hair. Instead, they were stuck at every single red light imaginable on the short trip it took to get to the highway.

“How long have you had this car?” She asked once they’d stopped again, making herself at home in his passenger seat as she rested her elbow up on the door where the window would normally be if she hadn’t rolled it down the second he started the engine.

“Mm,” He thought, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger while his other hand clung tightly to the top of the steering wheel, enough so that she could see the whites of his knuckles. Was he nervous? Did he not like to drive with the top down? Or did he just not like to drive with her constantly staring at him?

“Couple years probably,” he answered finally while adjusting the radio to turn some music on and she took that as her cue to leave him alone. Maybe he was nervous because he liked to focus on the road while driving and not on her silly questions.

They got up to about twenty-miles-an-hour now while he flipped through stations, his eyes bouncing between the console and the road. He tuned the radio until she wrapped her hand around his forearm.

“Sorry, I just,” she let go of him after he gave her a look, one that she couldn’t quite read. He could have been mad at her for touching him for all she knew. “I really like this song.”

He moved both hands to the steering wheel as he sat back into his seat. He’d never heard the song before, but if she liked it then he’d leave it on. They drove for a bit longer until he heard her softly singing along and glanced over at her. He’d only meant to look for less than a second, but when she met his gaze, he got a little too distracted.

Her eyes darted out the windshield and her sudden, “Harry!” caused him to slam on the breaks, luckily just seconds before he managed to rear-end a Honda Civic. He was positive his hunk of metal would have done quite some damage.

“Shit,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair to shift it back into place as his heart raced a million miles.

Then, of course, it was racing for other reasons when he heard her giggling from beside him and once he was done freaking out, he joined in. He was such a fucking idiot but it apparently had made her laugh, so… silver lining?

Once they were on the highway, he no longer felt as tense. The wind from the ocean beside them blew his hair in every direction as he got up to the speed of traffic and she watched his hands as they shifted gears. She let her eyes, and her mind, wander while staring at his tattooless arm and the way the muscles flexed under his skin. It gave her that dangerous self-confidence all over again.

He heard her seatbelt click and immediately shot his eyes over to see what the actual fuck she was doing taking it off while he was going over sixty miles an hour. An all new reason to be anxious filled his entire nervous system as he watched her, through various quick glances, standing up in his passenger seat with no care in the world about flying out. As if he hadn’t already nearly caused an accident, here she was trusting him enough not to do it again.

Her skirt flew up in the breeze but she didn’t really care too much about that either, and neither did Harry. When she finally managed to peel her hands off the windshield, she threw them up and shouted at the top of her lungs, forcing nothing but a huge cheesy grin onto Harry’s face even though he wanted to pull over and kick her out for doing what she was doing and nearly giving him an aneurism.

She sat back down within seconds though, and his blood pressure settled at a more normal pace when she had her seatbelt secured around herself again.

“Wouldn’t have offered you a ride had I know you were going to do that!” He shouted over the sound of the wind.

“I’m in a Ferrari on PCH, you should have expected it!”

He shook his head at her as he glanced over his shoulder to switch lanes and make his off-ramp. She was fucking nuts. And he was a fucking idiot.

They sat in the parking lot together for a moment, staring out at the ocean, after he put the top up, closed the windows, and cut the engine. She was still coming down off of whatever high possessed her to stand up mid-freeway and he was trying not to act like a complete fool being alone with her again where it was quiet and they weren’t moving anymore.

“How come we never talk much?” She asked him before either of them could even think about getting out of the car and joining their friends down on the sand.

He stared straight ahead at the waves for a moment as he thought about why they weren’t as close as he wished they were and that it might be his fault. He just never knew what to say to her to not completely embarrass himself. Within the past hour, it was clear he still hadn’t figured it out.

He sighed, “Probably because you stand up in cars and make me nervous.” He didn’t realize, however, how his words would be twisted until she did so.

“Oh, so we don’t talk because I make you nervous?” She teased with a smirk but she clearly had no idea how right she was about that. Or maybe she did have some idea about it.

Either way, he tensed up realizing he had, yet again, said some dumb shit and went and embarrassed himself again.

“I’m kidding,” she assured when he remained quiet, “I just think we should talk more.” She fidgeted with the hem of her dress and it most definitely did not go unnoticed by Harry. “Then maybe one day you’ll let me drive your Ferrari and you can stand up.”

The breeze dropped several degrees as they walked through the sand to their friends, who were already set up with a few chairs and an ice chest full of wine coolers. It was a nice relief from the burning afternoon sun, but Y/N still regretted not packing a sweater.

As they walked together, someone made a whistling sound at them as if suggesting something had happened with her and Harry between the time it took them to get from the restaurant to the beach. It made him uneasy when everyone looked at them like they were amidst a walk of shame, and even more so when he glanced down at her to his side to see she was also slightly uncomfortable.

“What took you two so long?” Trev asked the second she and Harry reached their little set up. Everyone was already either taking their clothes off to run into the ocean, or securing their spots in the warm sand, nursing a bottle or two of alcohol.

Y/N squared her shoulders, “Harry almost caused an accident.”

His head whipped towards her so fast, he was sure he pulled a muscle in his neck. It was one thing for her to know about his dumbassery, but everyone else didn’t have to be in on it too.

A couple of their friends giggled, making Harry scratch at the back of his neck nervously, shaking out his curls and hoping they didn’t all think he was the biggest imbecile alive for not knowing how to drive a car like that. Especially since he did know how to drive, his brain just didn't function the way it was supposed to when Y/N was around.

“Or maybe,” Trev leaned in suggestively glancing between the both of them before settling his eyes on Y/N, “Harry finally won you over with his Ferrari.”

She scrunched her face, trying to figure out what the fuck Trev meant by finally? Harry never tried winning her over at any point in the past. Hell, before today she had been afraid that he hated her, wondering tirelessly what she did to get on Harry Styles’ bad side.

When she glanced at Harry, she was relieved to find that he seemed just about as confused as she was. So it was just Trev being a slimy asshole as per usual.

She rolled her eyes and shoved Trev’s shoulder as she walked past him, eliciting an overly dramatic response as he held his shoulder like a ginormous baby and called her a bitch under his breath.

Both Harry and Trev watched as she lifted her dress over her head, tossed it and her purse into a chair full of other people’s clothes, and flashed Trev her middle finger while she glanced over her shoulder at him. Before she ran off to the water, however, her eyes found Harry just in time to see the way his eyes flickered back up to her face. She smiled knowingly at him just before taking off, hoping his gaze would find its way to her backside again as she did so.

And frankly, her bathing suit didn’t leave too much to the imagination. It was all held together with strings that could come undone with just a single tug from Harry’s hands. Her bottoms were definitely cheeky and her top… Harry should not be looking.

But he was, he constantly found his eyes gravitating towards her as he sat beside Trev on land while she played in the water with the others. He also found his fists clenching whenever one of the other guys in their group got a little too close. He should also not be jealous.

“You know,” Trev began, sitting back against his seat and resting his wine cooler on his knee, “we all know you’re infatuated with her…” Harry turned to look at Trev like he was insane, “except for her of course. Probably because you act like an idiot around her and she thinks there’s something seriously wrong with you.”

Harry really couldn’t disagree. He did act like he only had a handful of brain cells sometimes, but in his defense, he didn’t do it on purpose. He had no clue why he couldn’t operate properly whenever she was around. No one had ever done that to him, not a single person he ever found remotely attractive turned him into a helpless ball of nerves the way she did.

Sighing, Harry stared out at the horizon through his tinted sunglasses and mumbled grumpily. “Maybe a little bit.”

“Knew you were too good to be true,” Trev teased, assuming Harry was referring to there being something seriously wrong with him rather than being maybe a little bit infatuated with her.

Harry shook his head with an exasperated smile on his lips, “You’re a cunt.”

“Listen man,” Trev sat forward again, taking a swig of his drink, “She’s fucking insane sometimes, but if you like her…” He shrugged.

“How insane is she, exactly?” Harry asked, although he already had an inkling given her earlier actions in his car.

Trev snorted out a laugh, “Not like that. She’s just like… I don’t know. Does crazy shit. She was the first one to jump off this huge ass cliff when we went diving a few summers ago.” Trev reminisced fondly before laughing again when he recalled something else Y/N had done. “She got drunk off her ass at New Years and did a handstand in the middle of Gasolina.”

Although Harry didn’t know what Gasolina was, he still imagined how fucking hilarious that party must’ve been. She was the good kind of crazy, he assumed, not the kind that might chop off his fingers in his sleep.

“Besides, all she does is work and hang out with her dog.” Trev added, leaving Harry to wonder profusely about what kind of dog she had. He considered a dachshund at first, but maybe a chihuahua was more her speed.

“Anyways,” Trev sighed, settling into his seat again, “I just think you should stop acting like a twelve-year old and ask her out if you like her.”

Harry’s brows furrowed again, “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

He watched as Trev’s eyes landed right on Mel, who had her arms around Y/N’s shoulders as they descended further into the ocean, and he sighed even deeper this time. “That’s way more complicated than the two of you.”

He never would have offered her a ride, no matter how much he liked her, when she’d first came up from the water and threw her dress back on. She was a wet, hot mess for a long while until they all packed up after they watched the sun set and it started getting dark. There was no way he was leaving her there to wait for an Uber by herself, however, once they’d gotten everything packed up into the back of Trev’s Jeep.

Not that she was pulling her phone out to scroll through the app or asking anyone else for a ride.

So, she wound up in his passenger seat again, staring at the sky as it mixed through various shades of peaches and purples until it turned a dark blue color and the stars started coming out as he drove. They listened to some oldies station while heading north on PCH and she never stopped looking at how beautiful the world was around her, especially the part of the world that sat right next to her as he drove silently with his sunglasses on top of his head again. He was cute when he focused, she thought.

When he reached her driveway, she really didn’t want him to leave yet. She’d even considered taking him the long way to her house and hoping he wouldn’t notice just to spend more time with him. She stared up at the stars still while they sat idly in her front yard until she looked over at Harry with a smile and he met her eyes curiously.

“Do you wanna meet my dog?”

She shivered as she closed the door behind Harry, locking it before returning her attention back to him. Seeing him planted into the familiar backdrop of her house felt weird, but it also swelled her stomach with a million butterflies.

“I’m gonna change real quick. The living room’s through there,” she pointed and he followed, “you can make yourself at home.”

While she disappeared up the stairs, he wandered hesitantly, removing his shoes before he walked onto the carpet in her living room. He sat down in the corner of her loveseat, taking in all the surroundings. Her house was nice and he thought about what she did for a living, trying to remember if it had ever come up in conversations before. He didn’t get too far lost in his thoughts and his wandering eyes when there was a sudden bang on the back door behind him followed quickly by loud and incessant barking.

When he looked out the windows that faced her backyard he realized she did not, in fact, have a dachshund or a chihuahua. She had a fucking pitbull.

Possibly even more fitting, and slightly less scarier than the chihuahua.

“Sorry,” she ran in the living room just then, in a pair of lounge shorts and a loose-fitting long sleeve, and went straight to the back door, “I promise Patrick’s not as mean as he sounds.”

“Patrick like… from Spongebob?” Harry asked as she unlocked the back door to let him in.

She grinned like Harry was the first one to automatically get the reference without her having to explain it, “He was a little bit dumb as a puppy.” She shrugged and opened the door and the tan-colored pitbull ran straight towards Harry, jumping on the couch and into his lap like they were already the best of friends.

Patrick got about ten licks to Harry’s poor face before Y/N got a hand in between and tried pulling the stubborn dog away. She apologized again and even though Harry assured her that it was okay, he still seemed highly uncomfortable. When she moved, hoping Patrick would stop molesting Harry with his tongue, she’d been horribly wrong and he went back in for more and Harry was far too polite to do anything about it himself besides making feeble attempts at pushing Patrick away awkwardly.

So, instead, she ran around the couch and pulled him off of Harry, squeezing herself between him and her dog. While Harry wiped off his face, she turned toward him once Patrick had settled down, “I swear he’s trained, he just… forgets boundaries sometimes.” She said the last bit through her teeth, directed specifically at Patrick while petting the dog on the head. He just continued to stare past her at Harry, panting and wagging his tail.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” Harry assured her again. He really didn’t mind. Maybe a little, but it wasn’t the end of the world to have too much attention from a dog. Especially if it was her dog.

It was quiet for a moment before she perked up like she’d just remembered something, “Oh, do you want something to drink? I forgot to ask before.”

Harry didn’t really want her to leave just yet, but on the other hand, he desperately wanted her to. He could feel the nervous sweat on his forehead and his clammy hands and he just needed a moment to collect himself. So he nodded, “Sure,” and she bounced back up onto her feet and left him alone with Patrick.

While Harry had successfully wiped the sweat from his face on the back of his shirt and his hands on his jeans--and cupped said hand over his mouth to check his breath-- Patrick scooted right up to Harry’s side, curled into a ball, and rested his head on Harry’s lap. Which was the exact sight Y/N returned to moments later with a couple glasses of water in her hands.

“Guess he likes you, then.” She laughed lightly while handing one of the glasses to Harry and sat down on the other side of Patrick. It was a gap bigger than the one between them previously, but Harry was okay with that. Maybe he’d stop sweating so profusely from just being in her presence.

They were quiet again, but not for too long that it ever got awkward. Harry was sure, at this point, that Y/N was a professional at avoiding awkward silences with the way she said the most random shit right out of the blue.

“Do you like stand up?”

He looked at her like he had no clue what the fuck she was talking about, but in hindsight he should have known. In the moment, though, when she caught him off-guard, he literally could not fathom in his brain what she meant by stand up. So he just shrugged and mumbled, “I guess?”

She didn’t seem to notice his enormous brain fart when she reached forward to grab the remote from the coffee table a little too excitedly. And once she turned on Netflix and searched for John Mulaney, it clicked in his head. Maybe Trev had been right. Harry might just have something slightly wrong with him.

He’d never personally seen any of Mulaney’s stand up, but he’d heard the name and when Y/N mumbled that he was one of her favorite comedians, that’s all he needed to know about the guy. Harry would sit through hours of his stand up if it meant spending more time with her.

John Mulaney had already gotten a few giggles out of Harry within the first five minutes of The Comeback Kid and every single time it happened, Y/N glanced at him proudly as if she were the one telling the jokes and making Harry laugh.

She felt even more full of herself when John’s punchline about exes came seven minutes in and Harry nearly laughed his entire ass off at, ‘Anyone who’s seen my dick and met my parents needs to die.’

Actually, she was certain he’d done some damage to his body when Harry laughed so hard that he held a hand to his stomach, doubled over on the couch and choked on his own spit. She tried not to laugh at his reaction as she sat forward and grabbed his glass of water off the coffee table to hand it to him.

Her movements caused Patrick to get up and jump off of the couch, settling for a cool spot on the hardwood floors to stretch out on as he panted. Harry sipped on his water until he could breathe properly again.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him, “the dick jokes get me every time too.” Although she intended for it to make him feel better, his cheeks just burned twice as hot from the way she said dick so nonchalantly.

“Are there more dick jokes then?” He asked.

“There’s always more dick jokes to be made.” She confirmed, making him chuckle again. “So you’ll stay and laugh at them with me?”

He wasn’t sure at what point she’d gotten so close to him on the couch, but when she laughed and he felt her shoulder shake against his own, he quickly tensed up. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her closer, he just didn’t want to act like a complete fool again. And his reaction to just her touching his shoulder was enough to tell him foolery was on the horizon.

He also wasn’t sure when it became a given that he was staying to watch all of the John Mulaney specials on Netflix with her, but he wasn’t complaining. As long as he got to hear her laugh and imitate some of the jokes and weird voices John did, he was happy staying exactly where he was all night and, in fact, when she announced they’d burned through all of them, he was disappointed.

Even more so when she flipped the TV off and he wondered how much longer until she planned on saying goodbye and then who knows how long until they’d see each other again.

It was quiet, apart from Patrick’s snores, but not for long.

“I’m sorry I stood up in your car and made you nervous.”

He turned and met her eyes and she was very clearly not sorry about it, but he didn’t want her to be either. “S’alright.”

They stared at each other for a moment while he thought about what else she was going to say, if anything at all. But he should have known better than to assume she didn’t have anything else up her sleeve.

It was just that the next time she spoke there wasn’t the perpetual cute little grin on her face. Instead, she met him with a frown. “To be honest, Harry, I kinda thought you hated me before today.”

He scrunched his face, absolutely detesting that she ever thought that at all. “I don’t hate you.” He said it like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

She tilted her head to the side while she looked at him and then gave him a reason why it wasn’t that ridiculous of an assumption on her part. “Then why do you always avoid me?”

He felt bad about the way he acted around her, especially since she had the wrong impression about it. He didn’t avoid her, he just didn’t know how to talk to her when he always acted like a neanderthal around her.

Sighing, he shuffled a bit in his seat as the anxious sweats really made themselves known. “You were right when you said we don’t talk because you make me nervous.”

She grew more confused by that, “You’re literally Harry Styles, how do I make you nervous?”

He shrugged, “Been trying to figure it out myself.”

Although he’d been avoiding her gaze like the plague, sure that he’d never be admitting any of this to her while looking right into her eyes, she still smiled sweetly at him. He was Harry fucking Styles, who got up on a stage more times than she could imagine and sang in front of thousands of people, but she made him nervous.

She took him off guard again. “Are you seeing anyone right now, Harry?”

His eyes quickly panned to her, wide and puzzled by her question. “No… wh--”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish after she’d gotten the only answer she wanted out of him and suddenly she was a lot closer than she’d ever been. In fact, there was no longer a single gap between them as she reached her hand up to his jaw and pulled his mouth down onto hers. Even though he didn’t know how to react at first, feeling her on his lips, his brain swelled with all the good kinds of chemical reactions and he kissed her back, wiping his hand on his jeans again before he touched it to the side of her face, cupping her cheek in his palm softly.

Normally, he’d be the one making the first move, but he didn’t really mind it being the other way around with her. Who knows if they ever would have gotten to this point if they’d waited for him to make the first move, after all.

He definitely didn’t mind it when she swiped her tongue across his lower lip and positioned herself into his lap. His head had fallen back into the cushions while she straddled him and got a little too carried away, but, again, he didn’t mind it. He fed off of her energy until he was slipping hesitant hands down her waist and on her backside, making her moan into his mouth that both felt and sounded like heaven.

Heaven. He was in heaven and this completely bizarre angel was in his lap, making out with him on her couch and rubbing herself all up on him in ways that were so very unheavenly.

Neither of their dopamine infused brains registered the sound of Patrick’s collar when it was vastly more important to focus on the way she giggled around his mouth and how his tongue felt swirling around with hers.

However, when he jumped up on the couch beside them and began licking Y/N’s face, she snapped back to reality for a moment. Pulling away from Harry with a whine, she sat back on his knees and wiped the slobber with the back of her hand while she stared over at Patrick.

“Can I help you?”

Patrick did some whining of his own while he dug his paw towards her, begging for attention. So she gave it to him, petting his head and scratching his ears while Harry watched, still very aware of his hands on her hips and her free hand leaning on his shoulder.

“Crazy dog,” she muttered mostly to herself while Patrick laid down next to them.

“Like his owner,” Harry teased, mostly just to bring her attention back to him.

It worked too as she pinged her eyes back to Harry as fast as humanly possible and faked offense, “You think I’m crazy?”

“You asked me to meet your dog and then somehow hooked me into staying for three hours to watch John Mulaney specials and then completely out of nowhere… ended up here.” He nodded his head down at their current positioning with her still perched on his lap.

It took her a moment, but she fully realized what she had done soon enough. And once she did, she was quick to apologize. “Shit, Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to--”

Before she managed to get much further away from him in failed attempts of removing her foolish self from his lap, he grabbed hold of her wrists and brought her hands up to either side of his head, pulling her as close as she’d been before with just an inch or so gap between their lips this time.

“I think that’s why you make me nervous,” He admitted softly and after glancing between both her wary eyes, his gaze landed on her lips just moments before he stretched upwards to meet them with his again.

They fell back into place completely, except this time, she’d gone as far as to undo all the buttons on his shirt while she made out with him on her couch. Once it was open and she had full range of his chest, she pulled away from him again and watched his body rise and fall quickly as he caught his breath. She traced her fingertips over his butterfly tattoo, and like magic formed a few of them in his stomach while he watched her through heavy eyelids.

When their eyes met again, she smiled excitedly. “Does this mean I can drive your car now?”

#100% rewatched the comeback kid in the middle fo writing this jnjvf #but im really happy and proud with how it turned out so im excited!!#kinda longer than i expected it to be but oh well #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #shy!harry

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sagemusesoutloud · 3 years

Text

Anti-Romantic, Part 4

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader

Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff, Angst

WordCount | 1.5 k

WARNING | Mentions of verbally abusing relationships! It's brief, but there. If you or anyone is going through something similar, please seek outside help!

Author'sNote | I'm not giving excuses as to why it took so long to update, but I'm trying my hardest to be consistent! Let me know if you like how the story is going so far!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5

Sorry I’m an anti-romantic, I don’t believe in romantic

I am afraid that it will burn my whole heart, It will only leave behind ashes.

When you were younger, your family used to call you ‘spitfire.’ They said you were too fiery, argued too well, and too passionate. They had never meant it as an insult, in a way, it was a form of flattery. You grew up as the only female cousin in your family, but you were always leading your cousins on whatever diabolical plan it was that you had come up with: sneaking off to kitchen in the middle of the night to eat all the pastries meant for the morning after, convincing everyone that leaving your grandma’s territory and into the forest in the middle of the night to see if you can find the fairies, racing along the town’s border to see who was the fastest on their bike, and many other child-like plans. You were tough and you were proud, you never allowed yourself to lose.

Later on in life, that same nickname evolved to a less loving version. As you grew older and started to date, your partners always called you out for having strong opinions and for not bending at their will. They never saw you for what you wanted to be; which was an equal. If they said something against one of your friends, they expected you to throw away the friendship. All because they were the opposite sex and made your partner insecure. How could a girl and boy only be friends? Later on, when rumors would spread about your partner and other girls, they would get exasperated with you. If they’d get caught, they would only blame you for being too stiff.

“Why couldn’t you be more passive? If I want to kiss you, I’ll kiss you. You’re my girlfriend, why the fuck would I need permission? Is that what your ‘guy friends’ do? I bet you’ve let them all have a run at you, huh? Keep acting like a bitch, get treated like a bitch. And you wonder why I cheated? What a joke.”

You had to admit, you didn’t really date the greatest of guys. But you could say that now, because you knew now. Back then, you really thought you deserved those kinds of relationships. Like how they say, you only accept the love you think you deserve. However, in a way, it was why you were the way you were now. You always made it a point to communicate and avoid misunderstandings because you didn’t want your partners to throw your words back at you or your actions. It’s why you treaded carefully and avoided one-night stands. You’d rather get to know a person first and then start dating. It’s the exact reason the date you had with that other barista didn’t go through, majority of the guys you talked to thought you were too much work and therefore, not worth it.

Now that you’re an adult, you’d rather be too much work than let a guy walk all over you. Boundaries were important to you because how else were you supposed to gauge their respect for you? You had a tight grip on your morals and rules.

But damn, you’re only human!

The moment your lips crashed, it’s as if the only thing you could keep in mind was one word.

More.

You needed more of him, needed to breathe the same air as him, needed to feel every ridge of his hard body against your soft one, needed to cling to him as close as possible and for as long as possible.It’s as if his lips were the only reason you needed to dive into whatever this was. You were tired of keeping a strong hold on yourself. All that boiling anger turning into dangerous tension, and the only way to release it was to give into the passion between you two.

You settled your arms around his neck, taking that last step closer into him as he cradled your face and deepened the kiss. His other arm wound tightly around you, hand sliding dangerously close to your ass. You feel a deep groan against your chest, one of your hands wandering down his torso, enjoying the shiver you feel as you move lower. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, a question, so you reply by opening your mouth, tongues fighting for dominance. For every move you delivered, he retaliates just as ardently. You feel your head grow lightheaded as you bring your hands to hold on to his shirt, anything to stabilize you. His hand finally squeezing your ass, shifting you closer to his hips. Oh, lord.

You let out a moan as he bites your lower lip, his kisses descending as you fight to catch your breath. You involuntary let out a whimper as he finds your pulse point and sucks the skin, soothing it with light kisses. Leaving behind a trail of purple blotches, beautifully contrasted against your skin. You’d never been into marking, had it always felt this good?

“Jae…” you can’t think, you can’t even stand properly as he pushes you with his hips against the counter for support. You don’t even know what you wanted to say, do you want to ask for more? What do you want?

“God, I’ve wanted to do this for years.” You pause at that, your hands freezing on their tight grip on his shirt. You feel as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water at you, your rationality finally catching up with you.

He leans back to look at you, “if you’re going to stop me, do it now because if you don’t say anything I’ll keep going. And I don’t think I can stop on my own.” His hands drawing gentle, tantalizing circles along your hips where your shirt had ridden up.

You gasp at that; finally bring your eyes to his. He looked exactly how you felt, desperate. His lips were red and puffy from your kisses, his hair messy after running your hands through it. In the light of the kitchen, you could still see how his pupils were blown wide. You’re pretty sure you’re not in any better condition.

“Jae,” you whisper, brining your hands to his shoulders, either to support yourself or to brace yourself for what you were about to say, “if we do this, there’s no going back.”

He lets out a deep breath, “I know, and I’m ok with that.” He offers a gentle smile, “I want that.” His heart drops as he notices how you drop your gaze and bite your lips.

“if we do this, can you guarantee that it won’t ruin our friendship?” for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to speak higher than a whisper or to look at him. “can you promise that you won’t run away again?”

You wait for his response. When it doesn’t come you finally look up, only to find a frown forming on his brow. You don’t expect when he takes a step back, “is that all I am to you? All this is? Just a risk you’re not willing to take just because you don’t want to ruin the ‘friendship’?”

“I don’t know…Am I supposed to forget what you just said a few minutes ago?” He gives a humorless laugh as he paces around the small kitchen.

You’re frozen in place, spaced out at his words. It’s like as if you’re watching yourself from somewhere else. But you think about it, is that what it is?

Before you can respond or come to a conclusion, he stops at the entrance to the kitchen, back towards you. “Are you really not understanding what I’m saying or are you avoiding it?” his shoulders sag but he keeps going, “If loosing me is what you’re so worried about, then let me make it simple for you.”

Your body grows number by the second, what’s wrong with you? You’ve finally done it, burned away the last semblance of security and friendship. Just like a thoughtless spitfire.

“I can’t go back to this back and forth bullshit. I’m tired. I don’t think you even know what you want, so until you do, I think I need my space.”

He motions towards his front door, “I’m gonna go, if you’re still here by the time I come back, I’ll take it as a sign that you do want us…to happen. If you leave, I’ll pretend the last two days didn’t happen and we can go back to how we used to be. I’ll never cross the line again, and I’ll do everything to move on.”

You only notice you’re sobbing when you tears blur your vision. What have you done?

You don’t even hear him leave, only when the door slams after him.

I can clearly see the end, Worse than a hangover

It will be hard, Now, Just end it somewhere here

EndNote | Damn, I've never written a kiss scene before. Hopefully it wasn't too awkward. This is a lot of angst too, which I'm not a big fan of reading, but wow... who hurt me lmao. Promise the next chapter won't be as bad, or will it?

Previous: Part 3 | Next: Part 4.5

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impalas-r-important · 3 years

Text

Love of my Life - (2) New Guy

Summary: Bobby brings home an injured hunter. Dean's not so fond of him.

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Word Count: 3429

Series Masterlist

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“Hello?” You could hear Sam answer his phone from the living room. You were in the kitchen cleaning up. You, Sam and Bobby had a deal that whoever didn’t cook meals had to clean up after. Sam had made the both of you grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for a warm lunch on a chilly January afternoon. “Oh, hey Bobby, how did your hunt go?” A few seconds passed and then you heard Sam mutter, “Yeah, sure. We’ll be ready when you get here. How far away are you?” He walked into the kitchen, still on the phone, with a concerned look on his face. You gave him the what’s going on look and he held up his finger and said his goodbyes to Bobby.

“What happened, is Bobby okay?” You pressed.

“Yeah, he’s fine. He said that he met another hunter who was working the case, so they teamed up. I guess the new guy saved Bobby’s bacon and got pretty beat up. Bobby’s bringing him back here to get him all healed up. He said it was the least he could do. He asked if we could get the spare room cleaned out and ready.”

After days of researching for Bobby’s case, you had discovered it was yet another Greek god with another vendetta or unfinished business or whatever. Blah, blah, blah. It was getting repetitive at this point, but gods were always tricky to deal with. You were just glad to hear Bobby was okay and that someone was there to help him out.

“What happened? Do we know if he’s badly hurt?” You wondered.

“All Bobby said was that he doctored him up as much as he could. They aren’t far from here now.”

“Okay, I’ll go get the room ready.” You wiped your hands off on a dish towel and headed upstairs. You stripped the sheets off the bed and threw them in the washer, putting a set of new ones on. The room hadn’t been used in a long time. You and Sam were crashing there in 2 of the other spare bedrooms, but this one was pretty dusty from sitting idle all this time. After clearing out boxes of old books from the closet, you grabbed a duster and went over everything.

“They’re here!” Sam yelled from downstairs. “I’m gonna go help him inside.”

You ungracefully shoved your cleaning stuff into a bucket, then quickly sprayed a little air freshener to try and mask the smell you could only describe as “old”. You could hear voices coming closer down the hall. You grabbed your supplies and walked them to the bathroom to put them away. Their conversation was easily heard through the thin walls.

“Alright, here’s where you can crash.” Sam said as he helped the new guy into the room and sat him down on a chair in the corner. “You really took a beating, huh?” Sam gave him a sympathetic smile. “I don’t think I caught your name, by the way.”

“I’m Nick.” He reached his hand out to shake Sam’s but didn’t make it all the way before he winced and grabbed his ribs.

“Well Nick, thanks for saving Bobby back there. He said he wouldn’t have made it out of that one if it weren’t for you. I’m Sam.”

“Sam, like as in Sam Winchester?” Nick raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you’ve heard of me?”

“Buddy, I wasn’t born yesterday. Every hunter who knows what they’re doing has heard of you and your brother.” You heard Nick say as you walked into the room and leaned against the door frame. He turned to look at you and straightened his posture in the chair as much as he could. He gave you a little half smile and blinked a few times as he managed to say, “Wow, uh, hey, hi…”

His stammering made you laugh a little. “I overheard you boys talking. You’re Nick, right?” He nodded. “Well, anyone who saves Bobby Singer is a friend of ours. I’m Y/N.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Nick winked and gave you a cheeky grin which quickly turned into a grimace. He was definitely in pain. He was covered in mud stains and blood. His ankle was bent the wrong way and he had bloodied bandages wrapped around his bicep and thigh. But through all that, you couldn’t help but notice that he was surprisingly handsome. He had sandy blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Most of the hunters you met looked like truckers or smelled like dumpsters.

“Don’t even try man, she could kick your ass 3 different ways before you knew what hit you.” Sam joked. “I’m going to let Y/N take it from here. She’s better at the doctor thing than I am. I’ll go grab your bags and bring them up.”

“Why don’t we see what we can do about some of that bleeding.” You grabbed the first aid kit from on top of the dresser and walked over to him. “Can I?” You motioned to the bandage on his arm, and he nodded. You peeled away the layers to find a nasty looking gash. “Geez…” You whispered. “So, I can stitch you up, but it’s going to hurt pretty bad.”

“I’m no wussy. Do what you gotta do.” Nick looked up at you and for half a second you caught yourself studying his ocean eyes, but you looked away quickly and grabbed the sanitizing alcohol. “This will probably hurt the most. Sorry.” You dumped some on his wound and he clenched in pain and closed his eyes, letting a big exhale escape through his nose. You threaded your needle and began to stitch his cut closed. You had done this many times before and with Sam and Dean and liked to think you were decent. But you knew the key was distraction.

“So, where are you from?” You asked.

“Not really from anywhere. I grew up like a lot of hunters did. On the road with my dad and uncle, learning tricks of the trade as we went. What about you?”

“Well, I was born in Arizona, but my family was killed when I was six. I spent my life bouncing between hunters until I could drive. Then I went out on my own.”

“I’m sorry about your family.” His sympathy caught you off guard. Most hunters couldn’t care less about others.

“Thank you, but we all have our sob story. No one chooses to be a hunter just for kicks and giggles”

“Man, I’ve heard some crazy stories about those Winchester brothers.” Nick gave a small laugh. “It’s weird to actually meet one of them in person. What happened to Dean? I thought he and Sam were inseparable.”

You sighed and your heart dropped like it always did when his name was mentioned. “He actually got out of the hunting life. He lives close to here, stops by to check on us every once in a while.”

“I’d love to meet him. All I’ve heard is how badass he is. Like the ultimate hunting machine.”

“Well, you call him badass, I call him dumbass.”

“Hah! You guys close?”

“Not as close as we used to be. Sam and I try to keep him out of the hunting life as much as we can. He helps with research every now and then but hasn’t been out on a case in a while.” You finished your last stitch. “Your arm is all done but looks like we need to take care of this one as well.” You pointed down to his leg. “Do you care if I just cut your pant leg off? This pair looks like a goner anyway.”

“You can take my pants off anytime you want.” Nick smirked at you.

“I’m going to chalk that up to the loss of blood and pretend you didn’t say that. Keep in mind, I’m the one with the needle here.” You held up the long needle as you threaded it with a clean suture and gave him your best don’t go there face.

Nick reminded you a strange amount of the Dean of old. Handsome, but in a different way, snarky, and seemed like the kind of guy who flirted with any and every girl he could find. You couldn’t lie to yourself and say you didn’t like the attention he was giving you. Part of you still wished it were Dean giving you that attention though.

You finished up and started to pick up the bloody bandages off the floor. “I’m going to go get Sam and he can help you get into the shower. I think we need to take you to the doctor for your ankle though. Looks broken to me.”

“Damn, I was hoping to avoid the hospital. I don’t suppose you know how to set a broken ankle?” He looked at you hopefully.

“You’re outta luck, sorry.” You shrugged and began to head out the door.

“Y/N?” Nick stopped you before you left, and you turned to face him. “Thank you.” You shot him a smile and a nod before heading downstairs to find Sam.

After Sam had helped Nick wash all the blood off of himself, you two had taken him to the hospital where they set his ankle and gave him some pain killers for the broken ribs. Sam had gotten him upstairs and into bed and you brought some food up for him.

“Here you go, a Singer specialty.” You placed a tray with Bobby’s chili on his lap and handed him the remote to the ancient box tv.

“What makes it so special?” Nick asked, stirring the chili skeptically.

“If you ask Bobby, he’ll say it’s a secret family recipe, but I’ve been around long enough to know that the real magic happens when he dumps it from the can into the pot.” Nick laughs as you get his food situated so it won’t spill. “I brought you in some movies if you want to watch them. Mostly Dean’s old western tapes. We’re in short supply of variety.”

“Thank you. But I do have to say, I feel a little uncomfortable having you guys help me this much. I’m usually a strictly independent person…”

“We all need a little help sometimes.” You were actually glad that Nick was here. It gave you something to keep your mind off of Dean. “I’m in the room next to yours, just bang on the wall if you need anything.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. I owe you one.” He flashed his tired smile at you, and you returned the gesture.

“Night, Nick.”

You woke the next morning to find Sam’s car gone. You figured he was at the gym or swung by Dean’s house for something. You headed into the kitchen and started on making breakfast. The cupboards were pretty empty, but you knew there was always pancake mix around somewhere. You whipped up a few cakes with a side of scrambled eggs. When you were done, you headed up to Nick’s room to see how he was doing. You knocked softly, careful not to wake him if he was still sleeping. A few seconds passed with no response, so you cracked the door open and saw him dead asleep with the half-eaten bowl of chili still on his lap and the tv crackling with black and white static. This made you chuckle a little. You tiptoed over to him and gently lifted the tray off his lap to take with you downstairs and turned off the television.

The rest of the morning was spent looking for cases in the papers and online, but you didn’t have much luck. You gave up after a while when you heard a boot clomping down the stairs, letting you know that Nick was on his way.

“Morning, sunshine!” Nick pronounced and winked at you as he walked in the room.

“It’s 2 in the afternoon, lazy bones.” He laughed a little and sat down in the chair across from you. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than I was yesterday, that’s for sure.”

“I bet you’re hungry.”

“Starved, actually.” He placed a hand on his stomach.

“Do you feel up for going out and grabbing a bite? We’re short on supplies here, but I know a great little diner just a few miles into town. Mel’s.”

“That sounds amazing! I could really go for a great big cheeseburger right now.” Look at that, yet another similarity to Dean. You could swear this was the universe playing a cruel joke on you.

“Sam’s not here and Bobby’s holed up in his room, so it’s just you and me. Hope that’s ok.”

“More than fine with me.” He flirted. “Our first date!”

“Whatever. Come on, gimpy.” You helped him up out of the chair and led him out the door and towards your car.

You had actually really enjoyed your late lunch with Nick. It was nice to get to know someone new and you were surprised at how well the two of you got along. You usually butted heads with other hunters, but Nick was pretty easy going and had a good sense of humor.

A little while later, you pulled back into the driveway of Bobby’s house to see both Sam and Dean’s cars in the driveway.

“Wow, that’s a beauty of a car.” Nick remarked as the two of you walked past the Impala.

“Don’t touch it. That’s Dean’s baby. He’ll kill you if you scratch it.” You warned as you walked into the house.

Dean quickly rushed at you as soon as you opened the door and pulled you into a bear hug. “Y/N where the hell have you been?! I’ve been calling you over and over! No one knew where you were! Don’t scare me like that!”

“What? We were just in town. We haven’t even been gone 2 hours…” You pulled out your phone to check for his missed calls but found it to be dead.

“We?” Dean interrogated. Nick walked in a few steps behind you and Dean glared at him. “Who the hell are you?” He instinctively pulled you behind him.

"Whoa, whoa easy there tiger." You put your hand on Dean's arm and he looked at you, with questioning eyes. "That's Nick. Didn’t Sam tell you? He saved Bobby's ass on their last hunt and got pretty beat up in the process. Bobby brought him back here to heal up a bit."

"And you're what, just hanging out with some hunter you barely know? He could be a psychopath! You know better than this!"

You couldn't help but roll your eyes and feel annoyed at Dean’s over-protectiveness. "He's got a broken ankle, bruised ribs, and massive gashes on his arm and leg. You really think I couldn't handle him if I needed to?"

Dean kept his eyes on Nick the whole time, looking him up and down, trying to get a read on him. Bobby slammed the door of his room and walked out to the commotion. "Would you idjits keep it down out here? I could hear every word of this stupid conversation!" Bobby looked to Dean who was clearly still in defense mode. "Oh, pull the stick out, Dean. The kid literally saved my life. He's harmless."

It took Nick a few seconds to process the situation. He walked over to Dean and reached his hand out. "It's an honor to meet you, Dean. I look up to you a lot. You’ve got some great people here; they’ve been nothing but nice to me and I’d never do anything to hurt them.”

Dean was clearly expecting him to say anything but that, and reluctantly shook his hand. You wished you had a camera to take a picture of look on Dean's face. Priceless.

"I hate to break up the fan fest, but what are you doing here, boy?" Bobby questioned Dean. "Not that I ain't happy to see you, but you haven't been around here much lately."

“I, uh, was going to see if Y/N wanted to hit up Mel’s. I’m starved.” Dean looked at you for an answer.

“Nick and I were actually just there…” You felt a bit guilty, but you didn’t know that Dean was even planning on coming over today. “I’m sure Sam would go with you. I haven’t seen him yet today, but it sounds like he’s up in his room.”

“Oh, okay.” Dean looked dejected but nodded and headed towards the staircase.

Dean kind of knocked on Sam’s door as he walked in.

“Uh, sure, come on in.” Sam gave Dean a glare as he folded clothes and organized them neatly on his bed.

“I knocked. You want to go grab some food, Sammy?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m almost done here.”

Dean walked further inside and over to the dresser to fiddle with some things sitting on top of it. “Why didn’t you tell me about the new guy?”

“I doubt he’s sticking around. I didn’t think there was anything to tell.” Sam shrugged.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t let Y/N just hang around some stranger all day. We don’t know anything about him.”

“Dean, he seems like a teddy bear. We’ve been doing this for long enough to know when someone is a piece of crap. Nick seems genuine.” Sam let out a small laugh. “You know, he’s actually a lot like you. I think you’d really get along with him if you were still hunting.”

“Yeah whatever.” Dean grumbled as he played with a knife he had picked up.

“What crawled up your butt?” Sam shot him a sideways glace. Dean didn’t respond. “Oh, I see. You just don’t like him hanging around Y/N.”

Dean clenched his jaw. “Well, I’m so sorry if I just want to make sure she’s safe. I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to look out for her. Someone’s gotta do it if you aren’t.”

Sam scoffed. “Hey, I am looking out for her, Dean. But she doesn’t need me to. She is way more than capable of handling herself and honestly, it’s none of your business who she decides to spend her time with. She’s not your girl anymore.” Sam knew it was a touchy subject, but he didn’t care. He hated to see how much Y/N was hurting because of Dean.

Dean slammed the knife into the top of the dresser. He shook his head and turned to leave. “I’m outta here.” He walked down the hall but stopped at the top of the stairs as he watched you grab a soda from the fridge and a bottle of pain pills which you then took over to Nick. He hated the way that Nick looked at you. He hated that you sat down next to him and smiled your perfect smile at someone other than himself. Dean ran his hand along the railing and subconsciously made his way back to his brother’s room.

“Does she like him?” Dean asked in a broken voice as he leaned against the doorframe, looking at the ground.

“I don’t know.” Sam could easily see that his brother was genuinely hurting. “But I meant what I said, Dean. She’s not your girl anymore. You chose Lisa over her.”

Dean didn’t have words to describe the heartache he was feeling. “I didn’t… I… I don’t know…” Was all he managed to get out.

“Dean, Y/N is still like a sister to me even though you two aren’t together anymore. We’ve gotten a lot closer since we both died and came back, and honestly, I’m happy to see that a guy is making her smile. She was really heartbroken over you. She still is. So maybe it sucks for you to see her with a guy that’s not you, but now you know how she feels every time she sees you with Lisa.”

Dean slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground, with his head hanging in his lap and his hands on the back of his neck. Sam sat down next to him.

“Dean, I’m not trying to be harsh on you.”

“I know. You’re right though.”

“Maybe it’s none of my business, but why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you move in with Lisa so soon after we died?”

Dean cleared his throat. “I don’t know Sam. I guess, she was there, and Y/N wasn’t. There’s just a lot to it and I don’t expect you to understand.” Dean got up, regained his composure and left swiftly. Making sure Y/N and Nick were out of sight before he left.

Chapter 3

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x y/n #spn

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navegandoaciegas · 4 years

Text

Sunshine Girl

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff, soft!Bucky, mentions of injury (no graphic descriptions), 3.6k words

Summary: You are the sun and he’s simply basking in your light. And he’s so selfish, he thinks as he holds the velvet box with the diamond ring inside of it, he’s so damn selfish he wants to keep the light all to himself for the rest of his life.

Two years ago you were supposed to enjoy a solo road trip after years of Avenging, but Bucky invited himself along. Now you’re forced back to New York, and your boyfriend is ready to surprise you once again.

A/N: Bucky’s POV. Sequel to I love my baby to death, but I suppose you could read it on its own. As always forgive any mistakes, English is my third language.

Had to repost this cause it didn’t show up in the tags, hopefully this time it will

“I swear Buck, if I see one more damn corn plant I’m losing it. I am this close” you say pinching your thumb and pointer finger real close “to a mental breakdown. I’m never eating corn again, mark my words. No corn flakes, no corn on the cobble, no nothing. I’m done.”

“We’re in Iowa, in the middle of the corn belt, I don’t know what you were expecting.” he replies, slightly amused by your little outburst and sour mood.

“Well, clearly not ending up on the set of Children of the corn.” you groan, getting back to sulking in the passenger’s seat, seething at the fields that are only a scapegoat to the real problem.

You’d been merrily skiing in Montana when his skis got somehow tangled with yours and he tumbled down on you, dragging you down the slope. Hadn’t you injured yourself, rolling in the snow like it only ever happens in cartoons would have been pretty comical.

“What?” you screech, almost jumping off the stretcher and grimacing in pain when your left foot hits the metal poles at the side. “No. It’s just pain, I’m sure it will go away, right? I mean I was an Avenger, I’ve suffered worse than a fall.”

“I’m sorry, miss, but knee surgery will be necessary, the MRI here shows you’ve torn your ACL and from the looks of it, your left knee was already damaged badly, numerous times at that, probably a result of your time on the field.”

“I can’t, I can’t just get surgery, we’re miles away from home and I-”

You’re almost sobbing and Bucky feels like shit because he’s the reason for all this and all he can do now is pat your back reassuringly.

“Given the extent of the damage, I’m afraid there’s no other option.”

“How long is the recovery time?” he asks, voice unsure.

“Well, it’s my knowledge she’s not an enhanced individual, so like any average human it will take anywhere from 6 to 9 months to recover fully. In the meantime, no more hikes or sports.”

Bucky inhales a sharp breath. Six to nine months. No more hikes. Surely you’ll have to go back to New York.

God, you are so going to break up with him.

Turns out you didn’t dump him in Montana, you didn’t abandon him in one of those auto stops along Interstate 90 in South Dakota, and you don’t seem to want to break up with him amidst the green fields of Iowa, but still, he knows he will drive through Illinois, Indiana, Ohio and Pennsylvania anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It almost seems like a cruel twist of fate, driving the same route you did as friends two years ago, along Interstate 80 headed East instead of West, only this time he’s not hoping to be more than the annoying old man who invited himself on your trip; he’s your boyfriend now, but maybe not for long.

“You know, you really are dramatic.” you say in a teasing tone, “I’m not going to break up with you, stop thinking about that, it was an accident, ‘s not like you beat me.”

“I know, I’m just sorry because you’re in pain and it’s my fault and now we have to get back home but I know you wanted to stay more and I did too and if I didn’t-” he’s rambling, and your place your hand on his thigh and squeeze reassuringly, offering him one of those sweet smiles he dies for.

“Buck, it’s okay” you interrupt his word vomit “like I said a million times before, it was an accident, it’s going to be fine I promise. I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise with my mood, I swear I’m just pissed at all this damn corn. We’re never going to a maze again, by the way.” That gets a laugh out of him, and he loves you even more because you’re always there to lift his spirits. “I’m dreading these next months, the surgery, physiotherapy and all, but I know you’re there for me, yes?”

He nods, teary eyed, and you continue, “And I can’t lie, it’s been a while, I’m kind of excited to see everyone again, I mean except for Sam of course,” you say, as if he didn’t “live rent free in your head”, like Sam himself put it, “Jesus that man, how many of our trips has he invited himself on? I’ve lost count. ‘Member when we found him waiting for us in Phoenix? Fuckin’ weirdo.”

You both chuckle at the memory of Sam in your motel room, waiting on your bed with crossed arms like a disappointed parent, pissed off because you hadn’t called in a week and he was worried sick that something may have happened to you, a deadly sniper, and him, the Winter fuckin’ Soldier. Truth is, Bucky was so excited about your new relationship that he rarely let you leave the bed when you were in your room, and when you did you were in no condition to Facetime anyone, with your smudged mascara and swollen lips.

“I’ve heard Clint will come visit us with Laura and the kids. Nathaniel must be so big now.” you add, your eyes glazed over as you think of the little boy who was named after your Natasha.

“God, Morgan is probably all grown up.” he muses, a tinge of sadness in his voice. You squeeze his thigh again. “And the spider kid too, he’s a grown man now.”

“That he is.” you chuckle, “But to me he’ll always be the boy in the red spanx who knocked us on our asses in Berlin.”

He smiles and shakes his head at the memory, and you both fall in a comfortable silence. Now that he’s not consumed by fear anymore, Bucky kind of agrees with you that all this green is, in fact, nauseating.

“You know what, no more popcorn either.”

“Deal.”

A year and something ago

Arizona

“Can you believe there’s a city in New Mexico called Truth or Consequences? We should totally go and visit just for the hell of it, sounds like the type of place Steve Rogers should have been born into.” you state with all the seriousness in the world, and he snorts because after all this time you still haven’t found it in yourself to stop mocking Steve’s righteousness.

You’re walking ahead of him and he’s so distracted by your tiny denim shorts that he, the master of stealth, almost trips over a boulder. You’re always pretty but tonight, illuminated by the orange sky of Arizona, you look like a dream. And you’re so happy, snapping photos at everything you see, that even if Bucky hates the desert and the heat makes him uncomfortable, he won’t tell you, because the look on your face makes it all worth it.

“Baby, look at this big boy here, he’s like 20 feet tall. Oh my god, he’s so cute and beefy, just like you.” you gush at one of the giant cactuses of Saguaro National Park.

He raises his eyebrows skeptically.

All he sees are green spiky motherfuckers that he’s accidentally hurt himself with more times that he’d like to admit in all those damn ‘hikes’ you like so much, but to you cactuses are the most beautiful sight in the word. He genuinely does not see the appeal, but he understands now how you feel when he talks about all his ‘nerd shit’, as you call it.

“I’m cuter.” he says frowning.

“Of course you are.”

For some reason you don’t sound convincing at all.

It’s only spring but here in Tucson the temperature is 85 degrees today and he’s sweating buckets underneath the long sleeved t-shirt he’s wearing to conceal his vibranium arm. He’s long past the time when he was forced to hide from authorities or the general public’s judgement, but still he doesn’t want to be recognized and attract attention. He doesn’t do well with crowds, and he doesn’t understand how you can be so calm and collected when people stare at you and ask for photographs while you’re minding your own business.

As soon as you get back to the motel you’re staying at he takes off his soaked shirt, not caring that the air conditioning is probably going to end his old ass.

“What the hell happened to you?” you ask, scowling as you analyze the skin around his prosthetic.

He shrugs. “It happens sometimes.”

“Why?”

“No idea.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ lie to me James.”

You only call him that when he’s in big trouble. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose: why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the damn time? “It’s nothing sweetheart, just sometimes the skin becomes flared when it’s too hot.”

“Nothing?” you shrill, throwing your hands around animatedly, “Nothing? Bucky your whole shoulder is super red and irritated, don’t act like it’s normal. We’ve been in the sun for hours, for days really, why didn’t you tell me anything? I would have driven us back here immediately. Does it hurt?”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want to ruin your fun, you liked it so much there. And no, it only itches a little.”

Your eyes soften and you move to cup his face in your hands, looking at him with so much love that he feels himself melt away into a puddle, “Baby you don’t need to do that, you know I care more about you than anything else.”

“Even more than the cactuses?”

“Well, now you’re asking too much of me.”

He snorts and playfully hits your arm, then he falls back on the bed and drags you down with him. You stay cuddled like that for a while before you pull back to look into his eyes.

“I appreciate you doing this for me Buck, but you don’t ever need to sacrifice your own comfort for me, okay?”

“I know, I’m sorry. But you looked so happy.”

“Don’t be, and I’m always happy with you, I promise.”

“I’m always happy too.”

“We’re such saps. Gross. Anyways, guess where we’re going next?” you ask him cheerfully, scratching his scalp the way that makes him purr like a cat.

“The plan was New Mexico, Texas and Louisiana, right?” he frowns. You’d made plans together ages ago and you were so excited about visiting Texas of all places for God knows what reason. He’s predicted already that he won’t stand the suffocating, humid heat of that whole area. At least Arizona was dry as hell.

You on the other hand, everyday he’s become more aware of how much of a lizard you are, seeking the sun and walking around in the scorching heat not even breaking a sweat.

“Guess again baby boy, we’re going straight to Oregon. I mean, it's not Alaska but it’s not as hot as the desert here, right?

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to overheat?” you state like it’s obvious, rolling your eyes, “We’ll do New Mexico and the rest next fall, and now Oregon and Washington because it’s a little cooler there. So what do you say?” You ask with a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Princess I appreciate you doing this for me, but I promise I’ll be fine. You don’t have to change plans for me, this is your road trip.”

“No you won’t Buck, you’re not doing good and I don’t ever want to see you suffer, you understand? By the time we get to Texas it will be summer and you won’t stand it, it’s better if we visit when it’s colder.”

He smiles softly. He knows he’d do the same for you. “Then Oregon it is.”

You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom to shower, “Oh, and baby?” you call out, peeking your head from behind the door, “This is your road trip too, never forget that.”

Oregon

“Why does Thor get to have places named after him and we don’t? We were Avengers too.”

“But are we norse gods?”

“I mean, not yet, but I definitely deserve some nature’s wonder, or at least a star, to be named after me.”

“I’ll call WMO and get them to name a hurricane after you, princess. It seems more fitting.”

“Asshole.”

You’d been camping somewhere in Oregon’s wilderness when he came up with the idea of visiting all of the State’s so called seven wonders, starting from Thor’s Well on the Coast and ending in Mount Hood near Portland. You took a thousand photos of each attraction and sent a video of the water seemingly draining inside the famous well to the God himself, who enthusiastically expressed his appreciation.

Bucky’s cherished every minute of it, from the hot springs of Crater Lake to the chillier temperatures at night that force you to snuggle closer to him to warm up.

You’re in Portland now, and you’re thoroughly enjoying it, but what’s new about that? You’re always so full of life, so genuinely excited about everything the world has to offer that he’d be worried if you weren’t having the time of your life as you usually are.

He likes the city too, which is saying a lot.

“Blueberries are the superior berry and that’s the hill I’m willing to die on.”

You’ve been eating your way through Portland for weeks, and you’ve been discussing pies for a solid thirty minutes now. It’s raining outside and you’re cooped up in a small pie shop, eating more than an average human can and receiving weird looks from the waitress as you tell her to ‘keep ‘em coming’.

“I’m sorry but you’re wrong princess,” he states with a stuffed mouth just for the sake of aggravating you to no end, “blackberries are just so much better.”

It works as you grimace in disgust, both at his statement and his manners.

He’s found out you are weirdly opinionated when it comes to pies: pecan pies are an abomination, pumpkin doesn’t belong in dessert, lemon pie and key lime pie are only acceptable if someone’s grandma is kindly offering them to you, rhubarb pie without strawberries is a threat to mankind and cherry and blueberry pies are the absolute best. Apple pie is too bland to even take the time to discuss it, although the taste is likeable enough.

He on the other hand likes anything pie and anything sweet. And anything that gets a rise out of you.

“Please Buck, this isn’t even a blackberry pie, it’s some sort of inbred experiment that turned out kinda right.”

He shushes you, barely holding back a laugh when he sees the waiter side eyeing you as you disrespect one of Oregon’s most famous dishes, “First of all, it’s called marionberry and it’s a type of blackberry. And second, keep it down unless you want us to be kicked out, you’re offending a whole state.”

“Sorry.” you shrug, “But blueberry tartness level is where I draw the line, anything more than that is unacceptable.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re still a child and haven’t developed adult taste buds yet baby.” He does love his senior citizen card a bit too much.

This earns him a kick under the table and a scowl. “Stop it, grandpa.” you groan.

He grins and digs in your slice of marionberry pie. You resume to people watching.

God, he loves Oregon. And he loves you.

He really is a sap.

Wyoming

Washington was nice enough. You’ve taken him bar crawling most nights, and all of them have ended with him giving you a piggyback ride, per your request, back to the hotel room you were staying at.

It takes 13 hours to drive from Seattle to Yellowstone and you’ve driven all the way. You refused to disclose the destination of the trip and he’s fallen asleep the last 3 hours in the car. He’d mentioned he wanted to see the geysers somewhere in Pennsylvania two years ago and you remembered and took him.

Bucky couldn’t be happier.

He’s still describing the constellations above you when you fall asleep, and he’s so absorbed by the sky that he doesn’t notice until your head falls on his shoulder and he hears your soft snores.

He picks you up bridal style and takes you back to the fancy tent he bought on a whim in Ohio after you both slept in the SUV and woke up with major back and neck pain. He smiles as he removes your makeup with a wipe and does your skincare just the way you taught him, and admires your relaxed state.

He grazes your pretty face with his vibranium fingers, something so unimaginable to him before he met you, as he never thought his arm could bring anything other than pain.

Back when he was a semi stable 100 year old man thrust in another fight yet again, he hadn’t realized the extent of his feelings for you, believing he was only attracted to your beauty and youth. He hadn’t seen the way your smile lights up a whole room, nor the way you listen, truly listen, to anyone who may have anything to tell you, without ever judging them. He hadn’t witness your kindness and patience, let alone experienced them on his own skin. He hadn’t been lucky enough to watch you feed bird seed to the ducks of every pond of the country, or try to rescue a cat from a rooftop and almost falling off to save it.

Then Sam told him you were leaving and he felt like the word was collapsing on him. He’d found the sunlight and he never wanted to be without it.

Now he’s seen it all, all the little things that make you who you are, including your flaws, and he loves you not regardless of them, nor in spite of them, but because even your worst imperfections make you… you.

Bucky doesn’t know if meeting you was a way for the universe to fix all the wrongs that have been done to him, a sort of payback for all the shit he’s been put through, but in case it is, then he’s got no objections. And maybe he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you, but he’s a selfish man, and now that his sunshine girl is with him he never wants to plunge back into the the darkness ever again.

He tucks you both under the sleeping bag and snuggles next to you.

“Buck?” you mumble in a haze, tugging at his t-shirt, “Love you.”

It’s almost imperceptible, but his supersoldier hearing allows him to pick it up. He kisses the crown of your hair as he caresses your back.

“I love you too sweetheart.”

He wants to spend the rest of his time on Earth proving you how much.

New York

6 months later

The doctor wasn’t lying when she warned you that recovery would take 6 to 9 months.

You said the aftermath of the operation hurt like a bitch and that physiotherapy hurt even more. Today’s your last session and Bucky is glad about it for many reasons, like how you’re not in pain anymore for starters, and maybe because of how annoyingly fun, smart and hot your therapist is. Not like he’d ever admit it to you.

“Jesus,” you groan, “he turned me inside out like a sock, I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

“Sounds fun.” he deadpans.

“Someone’s jealous of the doctor?” you ask with a mischievous smirk.

“‘M not. He’s not all that.” he mumbles, blushing like a school boy.

You snort and drawl a ‘sure’. He sends you his best death glare.

“Whatever. I hope you don’t mind if we take a stop before going home.” he announces, helping you into the car. His palms feel clammy and he’s sweating despite the chilly winds of New York’s fall.

“Sure, where are we going?”

“Actually, that’s kind of a surprise, you’ll see.”

You beam at his words; he knows you love surprises and he hopes you’re going to like this one.

----

You look radiant as you lie on the blanket he’s spread on the grass, surrounded by colorful foliage. You’re sipping some of your favorite wine and nibbling on crackers as you admire a flock of birds migrating south in the sky.

You are the sun and he’s simply basking in your light. And he’s so selfish, he thinks as he holds the velvet box with the diamond ring inside of it, he’s so damn selfish we wants to keep the light all to himself for the rest of his life.

He’s prepared a long, passionate speech to tell you how much he loves you, of all the ways you’ve changed his life for the better and of all the reasons why he’d be a good husband.

But when you look at him with those bright eyes and beaming smile, he can barely remember his own name. He drops on one knee and holds the box out with shaky hands.

“Marry me, please.”

----

Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please reblog and comment, don’t be shy, feedback is always appreciated 🥺🤲

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james barnes x reader #james barnes x you #james barnes x y/n

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monsterywriting · 3 years

Text

Thenerius - pt 2

word count: 5,675

male tiefling x female reader

Read Part 1 here

AN: whelp i guess this is getting (hopefully just) a third part... good luck to everyone else who’s going through finals week and don’t procrastinate your final projects/tests like i am! literally have a final today to study for and take after my 8 am and a portfolio due friday i haven’t started on lol

You were getting one last bucket-full of water for a much-needed bath from the pump around the back of the barn, too far to hear when the thundering sound of hooves on the dirt path approach the cottage. You also miss the shout of greeting and the sound of voices entering the cottage.

The sun was finally dipping below the horizon on a long day of playing catch-up around the homestead, and your only plans for the evening were to wash up and make dinner before passing out. So, when you finally reentered through the back door soaked in sweat and worn work clothes only to see your mother sitting at the small wooden table with none other than Thenerius, you were understandably shocked.

He was obviously here to kill you, getting revenge for how you humiliated him and refused his advances when he wanted you to accept them the most. You had been brave in that moment, brushed aside the fact that he was a pirate and more likely than not a killer, and now you would be paying the price.

When the tiefling saw you frozen at the doorway, his already bright demeanor seemed to reach the levels of the surface of the sun, blinding then burning when he stood up to greet you enthusiastically. You almost wish he was here to kill you, that fate infinitely better than whatever he actually had planned instead.

Pointedly ignoring him, you addressed your mother only, asking if she took her medicine yet.

“Your friend from work was keeping me company,” your mother smiled, though it was clear that she was drained from the encounter, “He brought your weekly payment from Aedan.”

Your head snapped over to Thenerius, the tiefling having the nerve to grin and hold up a pouch of coins. You were distracted, however, when your mother let out a soft cough she tried in vain to hold back. She broke out into a coughing fit, starting small and growing until they wracked her body.

Your concern grew, helping her to the bedroom and quickly getting some cough syrup into her. Once she was settled, you went back into the main room to deal with the purple menace.

He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room once you returned, the pouch sitting on the table. You stalk over and grab the pouch, shoving it into the tiefling’s chest.

“You need to leave,” you hiss, beginning to usher Thenerius towards the door.

“Wait!” The bastard had the nerve to dig his heels in, refusing to move until you give up on forcing him.

“What?” You spat, glaring up at him. Perhaps you would have found it amusing, how he had to duck his head to keep his horns from scraping the ceiling, a grizzled pirate trying to make himself fit inside the cozy cottage. No, you definitely would have found it hilarious, if said pirate wasn’t in your cottage unannounced, the location of which you never divulged during working hours, apparently trying to win your affections after your admittedly callous rejection.

“I-” Thenerius hesitated, any confidence he had that carried him all the way to your home dissipating when you weren’t as responsive to his charms as he’d come to expect from you, “I wanted to apologize. You were right, about the proposal. I shouldn’t have done that.”

You blinked, having assumed you’d be given another unwanted love confession. You’re not sure what to make of the admission, though you’re certain it wasn’t a trick, as he seemed genuinely remorseful.

“What part, that we’ve only known each other for three weeks or that it was because you were so lonely and any girl who wagged her tail at you would have had you falling for her?” You’re internally grimacing as soon as the words are out, unable to believe how cold you sound even to yourself. You didn’t want to goad him to anger if he was just here to apologize.

“If my memory serves correctly, I believe the exact phrase you used was ‘bat their eyelashes’ at me.” The attempt at humor didn’t quite reach Thenerius’ eyes, but you still allowed yourself to deflate at the opportunity of a reprieve, “but that it came too soon. I had done it thinking of all the time that had passed since I met you, the time I spent halfway across the world and all I could think about was returning to you. Your smile alone made the entire six month journey worth it, but you gave me so much more in that time - not your love. I know that, now, but… your time, and affection. Once you said that - that we’d only been in each other’s presence for three weeks - I realized, perhaps I was rushed in my assessment of who you were. I filled the gaps of who I wanted you to be in my head.”

By the end of his faltering speech, you had shut your eyes, screwing them tightly shut in order to avoid having to look into Thenerius’ eyes, the raw emotion that swelled behind them that threatened to consume you with it. You refused to allow yourself to be caught up in the moment, to let yourself fall any deeper in than you already were entrenched from his flowery words. Just words, you told yourself.

“Is that all you needed to say?” You clear your throat, opening your eyes and looking anywhere but him, your resolve thinning with the mere awareness of his gaze upon you, feeling yourself being worn down.

Perhaps ‘worn down’ wasn’t the right verbiage, though it very much felt like it. Dragging you out into the light? Exposing you to be scrutinized, or to be known? What is the difference, if any? Either way, you felt as though Thenerius could read every passing thought darting around your head at lightening speed, projecting loud and clear your true desires no matter what you could say to the contrary.

“No, I want to know you. My feelings haven’t changed since that night, but I want you to feel the same.”

You let out a deep breath you weren’t aware you were holding. The short sentence is so simple, clear in meaning and intent. It’s… infuriating. A wave of something flowed over you in that moment, a realization like a bucket of ice water dousing you. You were shaking, your realized, but not with cold.

“You want to change my mind?” You whisper, cursing yourself for your inability to do much more in this conversation than to parrot his words, “You come to my home - unprompted, in fact, considering our last conversation, entirely unnecessarily - to what, exactly? Prove that I’m some prize to be won over by you? Come see how sorry my life is, see my sick mother and how I work my ass off at the tavern and here and think I’ll jump into your arms with some words? You must know that I wouldn’t go with you. Nor would I sit here waiting for you to return from the sea, hoping you’ll return for a few weeks every year and grace me with your presence and gold.”

You pause for air, realizing with horror that you were crying of all things. You quickly run your hands over your cheeks, glaring at Thenerius in a silent challenge, waiting for him to turn tail and run, “Now go.”

In yet another turn of seemingly endless events that should no longer have surprised you with how consistently they’ve been happening, Thenerius surprised you yet again.

“Well, this is awkward. I may have sent my men back south with my ship. I’m in need of room and board,” Thenerius said, and for the life of you, no matter how closely you examined his expression, you could not figure out what the hell he was thinking.

“Go to The Deep, then. I happen to be of the inside knowledge that there’s plenty of vacancies this time of year,” you said, brushing past the tiefling on your way back to your forgotten bucket of water, ready to escape this suffocating atmosphere.

“I don’t have enough gold for the length of time I’m planning on staying,” he replied.

“This is sounding more and more like your crew left you here and took the ship for themselves,” you deadpan, hefting the bucket up and carefully carrying it back towards the bathroom.

“My crew wouldn’t do that,” Thenerius’ voice suddenly turned serious, “I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t have come here if they had.”

“Well, unlucky me, then,” you grumble, “You’re still not staying here.”

“You’re very sarcastic,” Thenerius noted, and you prayed for his sake that the comment wasn’t a part of his vow to get to know the real you.

You disappear down the hall and into the bathroom, dumping the bucket into the basin. To your great relief, the water was still steaming.

“Wait, your pay!” Thenerius walked in behind you. You could tell the exact moment he realized where he was, quickly averting his eyes from you.

You roll your eyes. As if you would undress for any reason while he was still in the house.

“Please, you may have lied to my mother, but I’m no fool,” you snort, ignoring the outstretched hand to check the water, “Mr. Thistle would never trust a pirate with money, much less tell you where I live.”

“I’ll- come back later,” he says, turning to get out the room.

“No, you’re leaving,” you follow after him.

“Dear, it’s much to too late for him to ride, he can sleep here.” You and Thenerius both jump at your mother’s sudden appearance, both of you having forgotten that you were arguing right in front of the bedroom.

“But-” your protest is cut short when she only shakes her head, and you hope to Tova that she only caught the tail-end of your conversation with Thenerius.

“If you must, you can ride with him tomorrow to ask Aedan to give him a discount. Tomorrow.”

You run your hands down your face, glancing out the nearest window to confirm it was in fact dark out.

“Fine,” you sigh, pointing at Thenerius, “but you’re gone first thing tomorrow!”

Thenerius at least has the decency to not look too excited under your scrutiny, thanking your mother quietly.

“Go wash up, mom, it’s ready,” you inform her, moving away from the doorway so she can slip past.

You consider telling Thenerius to go last in the bath, but you’re covered in dried mud and animal shit and you weren’t going to have his tavern smell stinking up the sofa.

“You’re next,” you tell him, finally noticing how cramped the hallway was with two people in it. You push past him to to sit at the table again.

Thenerius followed you, keen to the fact that he was on thin ice and remained wisely silent as you waited for your mother to finish in the bathroom.

When she exited, dressed in her nightgown and hair wrapped tightly in a towel, you ushered Thenerius in, barely giving him time to grab his bag on the floor next to the chair he’d been sitting in when you first walked in. You enter close behind, going around him to grab a towel for him to use and quickly leaving him to his privacy, letting out the longest exhale of your life once the door shut behind you. You go back to the table and sit, trying not to think about the naked tiefling in your bathtub as you started the fire under the stove.

As soon as Thenerius stepped out of the bathroom with his bag in hand, you rush in, not making eye contact before you slam the door shut behind yourself.

The water is still somewhat lukewarm, and clear enough besides the murkiness from the soap. You think about literally anything else besides the fact that Thenerius had been in the same water just minutes before you, using the bowl to run water over your hair and quickly lathering the bar soap with a clean washcloth. The sooner you get out the better, you think.

It isn’t until you’re out of the bath and looking at your nightclothes that you realize you’re going to have to wear them in front of him, unless you change into clean day clothes just to change into them in the privacy of your bedroom later.

It’s just tonight, you tell yourself, he’ll be gone tomorrow. And why would you have to modify your routine for him? He’s the one intruding. It won’t be a big deal so lang as you act like it isn’t. It’s not like you’ll be prancing around naked. They’re your winter ones, the material made much thicker than the normal cotton.

Properly talked up, you walk out, pretending not to notice how Thenerius stops mid-sentence in a conversation with your mother to stare at you like the moon herself descended in front of him.

“I’ll have dinner ready soon.” You mumble, not stopping until you were safely in the kitchen.

You take the last eight eggs and crack them onto the iron skillet sitting on the stove, immediately sizzling before you take a flat spoon to scramble and scrape them into three plates. You then add leftover cuts from a chicken you culled from your flock a week ago to the skillet to cook, already seasoned. Then, you took the stack of unleavened bread your mother made during the day while you worked before putting them on another flat slab of iron on the stove to warm them.

Once you had a sizable enough stack for three people, you wrapped the resulting unleavened bread in cloth and balanced the three plates in your arms and carried everything back into the dining area.

You had heard Thenerius and your mother sharing a hushed conversation through the walls, but weren’t able to make out any specifics. However, when thy both immediate hushed up once you entered, it was clear who the topic of their chat was.

You set down the plates, frowning once you realized you’d have to sit next to Thenerius, as it was only a four-person table and they were already sitting at opposite ends. Once you were seated, however, the dinner conversation was thankfully limited as everyone focused on their plates.

Then it was time for your mother to take her tablets, you watching carefully as she downed them with a cup of water. She retired to the bedroom shortly after, and though she tried to make it seem as though she was solely doing it to give you and Thenerius some privacy, it was obvious she was drained of all energy as she slowly shuffled down the hall.

You ignore Thenerius and grab the plates, taking them to the kitchen to dump the scraps in the bin and be washed. Thenerius’ plate is practically clean already, but your mother’s is concerningly hardly touched at all.

Dunking the emptied plates plates in the half-full sink, you scrub vigorously. Just as you are about to place the first one on the rack to dry, however, Thenerius takes it from you and dries it with the dishtowel.

You decide to say nothing, simply handing him the next plate once he placed the previous one on the rack.

You bring Thenerius a stack of blankets, dumping them on the cot next to where he sat for him to assemble himself.

Just as you turn to leave, a hand falls on your shoulder and you immediately stiffen. It quickly retracts.

“I don’t need this many,” Thenerius says quietly, looking dejected when you look over your shoulder at him as he tries to hand you a few of the blankets back.

“You do,” you inform him, “we’re at a higher altitude. It’s going to get colder.”

Thenerius places them back on the pile, his mouth opening and then closing. You wait. Finally, he clears his throat, “Thank you, for dinner. And for letting me stay here.”

“Thank my mom,” you reply, “and don’t get used to it. I was serious when I said you’re gone tomorrow.”

After a moment, Thenerius smiles, small but hopeful, “not first thing?”

“You have to pay for the meal and bed,” you huff, turning back around and going into the bedroom, careful to be quiet as you cross the cottage so as to not wake your mother.

You make sure the door is shut securely, and for good measure, you stick a piece of paper in the gap between the top of the door and the frame. You don’t think you’ll be able to sleep with the knowledge of a stranger sleeping in the next room, but almost as soon as your head hits the pillow, you’re waking to the sound of the rooster crowing the next morning.

You sit up abruptly, your mother still asleep next to you. You swing your legs over the edge of the mattress and scurry to the door, the paper still in the same spot you placed it when you take it back down.

You open the door quietly and slip out, glancing around the corner at the end of the hall to the cot. On the side closest to you, the stack of blankets are folded neatly, Thenerius’ pack leaning against one of the cot’s legs.

Your eyebrows furrow, going back to make sure the bathroom was empty before checking the kitchen, seeing neither hide nor hair of Thenerius in the cottage. Before you go search outside for the tiefling, you decide to at least get the stove going to warm up the cottage. As you stand in the kitchen looking for the box of matches, you realize you can hear the familiar, rhythmic thumping of an axe hitting wood.

Glancing out the window, you see Thenerius at an old stump splitting firewood a few yards away, his coat off and hanging from a tree branch. He stops to brush his hair back, careful to avoid his horns, before continuing.

Against your better judgement, you study him from the safety of the indoors. The last time you’d seen him, it had been shaved close. He apparently grew it out since then, dark waves forming curls around the nape of his neck that you’d noticed when he first arrived at the deep and now was sticking to his scalp with sweat.

As the sun broke over the horizon and illuminated the clearing, you could see how Thenerius’ back muscles flexed under the fabric of his shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose his thick forearms. Obviously, as a pirate, he would have to be at least somewhat fit. Hell, you’d felt them whenever he would insist you touch his arm while he flexed or would pull you into his lap.

But none of that quite prepared you for how he would look without the barrier of his coat, how he likely looked working out at sea.

You force your eyes back to the task at hand before they can venture downwards, finally finding the matches and lighting one with shaking hands before lighting the scrap of paper and tossing both into the stove.

Shutting the door and opening the grate, you return to the bedroom to change into your day clothes.

You immediately regret stepping outside as soon as you do, the light of the sun doing little to warm the icy air rushing inside your lungs and burning against your skin. Still, you are determined as you march around the cottage to where Thenerius continues to split the pieces of wood, though the pile of wood that took you months to chop down and cut into sections was now nearly gone and a neat stack of his split pieces had taken its place.

“I noticed you were running low,” Thenerius calls out as you approach, smiling as your eyes met his.

“It’s fine,” you huff, Thenerius’ smile brightening as though you just extended him the best praise of his life.

Annoyance bubbled in your stomach. Did he think he was cute? Acting like a love-struck teen and not a Tova-damned pirate? Or did he think you would be tricked by the illusion he put forth if he played pretend enough?

“Hurry up and finish that. There’s more work to do before breakfast,” you mutter, turning towards the barn as he would no doubt be crestfallen as you continue, “Then we’re going to The Deep.”

You go back to the kitchen briefly to grab the scrap bin before going to the chicken coop, making sure to latch the screen door behind you. You drop the scraps at the center of the enclosure, the chickens running over each other in a clucking mass of feathers and beating wings in their attempt to get at the food first. A few even manage to steal a few morsels before the more dominant ones chase them off.

Once the nesting area was empty, you went over and started collecting eggs in the same bin. Only six today, and you cooked the last of them in storage for dinner the night before. You worry your bottom lip, looking at the flock.

There were five hens and the rooster. You had been planning to let them breed in the spring to bring their numbers up, but that was still a long ways away.

You glanced over at the goats, currently in the pasture with the horses. You had two bucks and eight does. You had sold off the kids of four of the does, leaving you with five kids, three males. There was still the cured meat you got from the storehouse the other day, so you wouldn’t have to do anything drastic for food just yet, but it wouldn’t last soon at your current rate.

You had been planning on buying rabbits to raise for meat and fur, but you hadn’t been able to find the time to finish the winter hutch that was still partially completed in the barn.

Then you thought about everything else you had to do soon - castrate the three kids, patch the barn roof, harvest the second pasture’s grass and dry it for hay… and it seemed like every day you found something that needed repairing or replacing.

But… if Thenerius does plan on staying, you just may be able to keep everything afloat for the time being. With him there to collect the eggs and milk the goats while you worked shifts at the deep, then- appalled that you were planning ahead as though you would allow Thenerius to stay for months on end with you. No, you survived the last winter without any help, you could do the same this year.

Letting out a sigh, you dropped the eggs off in the kitchen before going back to the barn to wrap the horses snugly in blankets and let them out to graze in the pasture connected to the barn.

By that point, Thenerius comes to find you. You were admittedly surprised he’d finished that quickly, soaked with sweat and breathing heavily as he told you he was finished. You had even gone to check, not quite able to believe he’d gone through the entire wood pile that fast, or at least correctly. He looked proud when you peer up at him, but you refuse to praise him, directing him instead to the pasture while you grab two pails from the barn.

After showing him how to milk the does, you quickly fill about two pail's worth of milk between you from the four kidless does.

After taking the milk to the small pasteurizer in the barn, you set about making breakfast.

After taking the milk to the small pasteurizer in the barn, you and Thenerius returned to the cottage, your mother already up and standing by the stove.

You waste no time getting breakfast ready, making the six eggs you collected and take out the smoked meat. You make up two plates, setting them down in front of the two.

“I’ll be back soon,” you tell your mother, gripping her shoulder for a moment, “Don’t forget to take your medicine.”

“I’ve been taking it for three years, I don’t need you reminding all the time, you know,” your mother huffed, but she still pressed a kiss to the top of your head and waving you off.

“You aren’t going to eat?” Thenerius asked, thankfully swallowing his mouthful before speaking.

“I ate a couple boiled eggs while I cooked,” you reply, “clean the dishes after you’re done. We’ll go to The Deep afterwards.”

Grabbing your purse and heading to the barn, you click your tongue at the door leading out to the pasture, grabbing his saddle as your horse neighs loudly and nearly trampling over Thenerius’ horse in his attempt to get to you.

Any attempts on your part to name the capricious animal had been in vain, as he only ever responded to the sound of a clicking tongue, what your mother called him over to eat. It explained why he was fatter than a pregnant mare when you got here, unridden and getting fat on the lush pasture to himself and the treats.

Horse, as you’d taken to referring to him in your head, shoved his face into your hands, sticking your entire hand into his mouth in search of treats. You fish out a peeled hard-boiled egg from your pocket, the treat disappearing from your hand before you can even unfurl your fingers, Horse chewing it down quickly. Thenerius’ horse ventures over once she realizes you have food, and you have to press an open palm against Horse’s face to keep him from snatching the second egg you pull out before she can gently take it from you.

“Are those the eggs you ‘ate’?” You jump as Thenerius suddenly appears next to you, and you glare at him for sneaking up at you.

“I need to bribe him to come over and let me saddle him,” you said, neither confirming or denying the tiefling’s accusation, “he’ll be angry the entire ride otherwise.”

“Why didn’t you eat?” Thenerius presses, his eyes never leaving you as you unpin Horse’s blanket and refold it, throwing it over his back before securing his saddle on top.

“There wasn’t enough,” you shrug, climbing onto Horse’s back and pressing your legs momentarily into his side to get him to start walking.

You’re almost to the main road when you hear Thenerius pull up beside you.

“You should have taken mine,” he says after a moment.

You sigh. Clearly, wanting a nice, quiet stroll into town was too much to ask for, “Our horse is fine. He needs the exercise, anyways.”

“Not the horse, the food,” Thenerius said, actually sounding irate with you, “if there wasn’t enough you should have eaten mine.”

You bite back a laugh. You’ve heard Thenerius actually angry before, yelling at his crew members when one shoved another into a table in the tavern and broke it.

He’d been absolutely furious then, scaring even you with how his red eyes burned like hot coals, his face darkening to what you assumed to be an unhealthy purple-blue color as he nearly came to blows with the offenders. That feared pirate captain now reprimanded you like a child.

“Please, it’s one meal,” you snort, “I had plenty while I was working.”

“You shouldn’t skip meals,” he insisted, drawing close to your side to look down at you sternly, “You’re going to still be working the rest of the day after this, aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes and snap your reins, Horse speeding up to a canter and leaving Thenerius behind. The journey was familiar to you both, and you don’t even need to provide the horse with direction as he follows the twists and turns of the winding path with a sure foot.

You just want to hurry and reach The Deep, collect your pay, dump Thenerius on them and then go to Alfore to meet with the doctor about your mother.

You reach The Deep before Thenerius, tying Horse to a post outside the stables and making a beeline inside with barely contained excitement.

When you enter the tavern, Lenora is the only one in. Her welcoming smile quickly shrinks into a sheepish one once she sees you, however, turning on one heel to head straight towards the inn portion of the building.

Your eyes narrow, making a detour from Mr. Thistle’s office to go after her. You had an inkling as to what that was all about, and you couldn’t help but need to confirm it.

Your hand falls onto her shoulder and grips it tight, yanking her back just before she can abscond up the steps.

“Where are you going?” You ask, putting on a pleasant smile for the few patrons at the bar as you steer her down the hall to the privacy of the storage room, once an office.

“Please don’t kill me - he tricked me into telling!” Lenora begged for mercy immediate, clasping both hands in front of her.

“I highly doubt that,” you cross your arms, raising an eyebrow and waiting for her to try again.

Lenora had always been something of a romantic, constantly falling for one sweet gesture after another and declaring someone her ‘soulmate’ every few months. If she caught wind of Thenerius’ proposal, of course she’d think it was fine to play matchmaker. But that didn’t mean you weren’t going to make her sweat to teach her a lesson.

“Ok, but my intentions were good!” She pleaded, shaking your arm, “I mean, he obviously loves you, so I thought if he saw how you were living, you could get him to give you enough money for your mom!”

Your eyes widen, anger draining from your face and replaced with hurt, “so you told a stranger where I live, where my mother lives, so I could get him to feel sorry for me and bankroll my expenses? What else would I do, hm? Let him sleep with me for an allowance?”

Lenora realized her mistake too late, unable to backtrack as you spun around and left the room. You walk straight past Mr. Thistle’s office, too distraught to think about what you came here to do.

You untie Horse and quickly mount him, spurring him to go forward.

“Please don’t be angry! I didn’t mean you would do anything like that, I just wanted to help you-” you snap the reins twice to get Horse to a gallop.

“Are you okay?” You think Thenerius calls out, but you pay him no time as you race past, reaching the main road in no time and heading down the straight path to Alfore.

Your breathing is erratic as you try to get a handle on the unfamiliar emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. Perhaps in the past, you would have acted out in anger, lashed out at Lenora for the insult implied.

Now, however, you’re just tired. Worn out from two years of being back in this shithole, struggling to make ends meet, doing whatever you could. And because of that, your own coworker - someone you thought of as a friend, even - believed you to be so unscrupulous in your need for money that you’d take advantage of someone’s emotions for your own ends.

The worst part is, you were tempted. Tempted to step back. Tempted to let someone else take the reins. Tempted to use Thenerius’ misguided feelings for you to your advantage.

Had this what you’d been reduced to, from academic work to flirting shamelessly with customers to line your pockets? Do things your mother never did even when she was doing the same job, running the homestead, and saving money for you to move to the capital for your schooling?

So, at the end of your rapid-fire cycling through the stages of grief, you have no desire to fight Lenora over her true thoughts about you, nor do you wish to turn on Thenerius for the way he’s crashed into your life. You don’t qualify every action you ever did out of necessity or lay bare the fact that you were actually embarrassed by them. You don’t try to separate yourself from your choices by bringing up your past life or hard work. You simply loathe yourself for it.

Without your constant commands, Horse slows to a trot. You allow it, not wanting him to get hurt because of you. However, you soon regret your decision as you hear hooves charging up to you from behind.

You pull over to the side of the road, praying that whoever it was just passed you by. Of course, you had no such luck, the other horse slowing down next to you and Thenerius looking down at you with a concerned expression.

You say nothing and you don’t bother trying to outrun him, resigned to the fact that you wouldn’t be shaking him anytime soon.

“It wasn’t her fault,” he said once it was clear you weren’t speaking, drawing your sulking expression to point directly at him, “I pressured her to tell me where to find you.”

“Why are you still here?” You ask instead, exasperated and unwilling to have a conversation with him of all people about what happened between you and Lenora.

“I told you, my feelings for you haven’t changed,” Thenerius said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Even if I allow you to stay, it would only be to use you,” you argue, “you could work for months and waste your time if I never change my mind. Doesn’t that make you angry?”

“No,” he replied, a warm smile adorning his face as he looked at you, “because you said if.”

You blink dumbly as he spurs his horse forward, leaving you to catch up.

part 3

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #reader insert #tiefling boyfriend #tiefling

110 notes · View notes

barnes-dameron · 4 years

Text

I Think of You

Double Sided Facade

Soccer player!Cassian Andor x physical therapist!reader

Summary: You came to this country to learn the language and find work to pay off for school, nothing else. Getting a job as a physical therapist for the National soccer team was a plus and getting to see the star player, Cassian Andor, was a major plus as well. But what happens when your visa expires and immigration is on your tail? Your only hope resides in Cassian, who is more than willing to marry you until you can get your green card. What can go wrong?

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is going to be a series but I don’t know how long will it be. I didn’t explicitly say what country this is taking place in because I want everyone who reads this to feel included. So for example, if you’re from the U.S., you can pretend it takes place in Mexico since Diego Luna is from there. Or if you’re from Mexico, you can pretend it takes place in the U.S. or another country. I want all readers to feel included instead of being excluded. I hope you all enjoy! Let me know if you want to be tagged for future parts.

Catch up: Part One

***

Cassian had to admit to himself that he was starting to panic when he saw your reaction to his insane question. You stood there in front of him, your eyes wide and your mouth open and gaping.

“Cassian,” you let out slowly in a voice just above a whisper. “What are you doing?”

Cassian got up from his stance on the floor to stand in front of you. He needed to be calm and collected, else wise he would spill everything to you.

“I know about your visa,” Cassian revealed. “You can’t leave now. Not when the season is about to start. So I figured the best way for you to stay is marrying a citizen so you can at least get a residency here faster than the usual process.”

Cassian watched your chest rise slowly and fall at the same rate. Your eyes were no longer wide from shock, but were wide with disbelief.

“Cassian, I can’t let you do this,” you whispered. “If someone finds out that the marriage is fake, it could run your career.”

“I’m willing to take that chance,” Cassian replied quickly. meaning every word.

“You would really do this?” you asked, your gaze burning into Cassian, but he welcomed it either way.

“I would,” Cassian said, looking into your eyes and noting the different shades of color. He suddenly found it hard to breathe in that moment. “It’s what’s best for-” He stopped himself before he could say anything else. He was about to say for you, he would do whatever he can, whatever is best for you. But he couldn’t say that, and you couldn’t know. “The team,” he finished. “It’s what’s best for the team.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding your head. “I have to go tell Mon and Bail.”

Cassian let out a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding as he watched you make your way out of the exam room to the door. So this was happening. It wasn’t how he imagined it in his head. He always thought he would propose to you on the beach after a night of dinner and dancing. The moon would be shining bright, casting its reflection on the navy blue waves. The sand would still be warm under your feet. It would’ve been perfect. Of course, he imagined asking you to marry him would occur after two years of dating and learning everything about you. But life doesn’t come out the way you plan doesn’t it?

Cassian turned around in the room, looking for where he put his shoes before participating in the therapy. But the next thing he knew, you were wrapping your arms around his neck, and fitting your head against his neck. Cassian was shocked from both the embrace and the closeness. However he welcomed the warmth that radiated off of you and the sweet scent from your shampoo.

“Thank you,” you mumbled into his neck. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

As quickly as you appeared before him, you left, leaving him a gaping mess as he processed what just happened. He kicked himself for not reciprocating the action. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and bring you closer to him. He wanted to press his head against yours, and leave you a kiss. But instead he was shocked from the action, and stood there like a tree. Well, hopefully the opportunity would present itself again.

***

You traced the wood pattern of the table as Anderson’s voice droned on and on in the Rebel’s conference room. It’s been about two weeks since Cassian’s proposal, and once you told Mon and Bail, they sent out for Anderson to draw up the marital contract.

You sat at the long oak table listening to Anderson, who sat at the head of the table. Alongside you was your own lawyer, diligently taking notes on her pad. After revealing everything that happened to you to Jyn, she recommended for you to get your own lawyer in case someone “tries to screw you over,” her words. Across the table sat Cassian, dressed in a suit instead of his usual uniform which you were so used to seeing him in. You secretly scolded yourself from admiring the way he looks in it. Does he have to look good in everything he wears? He was sitting next to his own lawyer who was also taking notes.

“So in summary,” Anderson finally said, grabbing your attention at last. “Mr. Andor and Ms. L/N will marry as soon as possible so his citizenship would cover her for a time period of one year. During the time period, Ms. L/N will be required to live with Mr. Andor in order to make the marriage look authentic and in the case an immigration worker makes a surprise home visit. After the one year time period, they are free to divorce. Is there anything that the parties would like to present?”

“Yes,” your lawyer jumped in as soon as Anderson finished. “My client would like to propose that she and Mr. Andor will get an annulment instead of a divorce, for personal reasons.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks when your lawyer announced that. You really didn’t want to get a divorce, the idea of divorcing someone without a good reason bothered you. Plus the divorce could bring unwanted publicity since you would be divorcing the captain of the major soccer team in the country, and there could be a possibility that someone will unveil the true nature of your fake relationship.

You watched Anderson’s brow furrow together, his pen trembling a bit in his hand.

“Well,” Anderson said, still processing the request. “The only grounds for annulment for the two parties would be failure to consummate the marriage.”

“That’s right,” your lawyer replied confidently, her spine straight and her gaze icy. That was another personal reason. It’s not that you didn’t want to have sex with Cassian, but you were sure that he doesn’t have any intention to be with you intimately. He wasn’t doing this whole thing for you anyway, it was for the team. You figured it would be best for the both of you to try and maintain your mutual friendship as long as possible, not to make it any more awkward then it needs to be. “Since my client works closely with Mr. Andor, we thought it might be best that they maintain their professional relationship.”

“I see,” Anderson said, turning his attention to Cassian’s side of the table. “Does the other party agree with this proposal?”

“Yes,” Cassian replied, not waiting to discuss with his lawyer who seemed to be annoyed with him.

“Very well,” Anderson concluded, making a note on his pad. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes,” Cassian’s lawyer spoke up. “We would like to propose that Ms. L/N will sign a prenuptial agreement in order to protect the wealth and properties of my client.”

You felt like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over your head. A part of you couldn’t believe that Cassian would think you would take half of his money and belongings. Does he really think that lowly of you? However at the same time, you understood why he would do it. It’s only temporary, you reminded yourself.

“Understandable,” Anderson said, turning his gaze to you and your lawyer. “Does the other party agree with this proposal?”

“Yes,” you affirmed, pressing your lips into a fine line.

You never thought this was how your marriage would start off...with a legalized contract and lawyers. Every little girl’s dream.

“Very well,” Anderson said, making another note. “If there is nothing else, I will go ahead and add these points so that it is ready to be signed tomorrow. As for now, you are dismissed.”

You watched as Anderson packed up his documents into his briefcase before leaving the room. As you watched him walk out, you silently wondered how big is the stick that seems to be shoved up in his ass. Your lawyer gave you a small goodbye as she too left the room with her briefcase. You took a deep breath, glad that this meeting was over. You bent down to grab your bag, and when you stood back up, you were met with Cassian’s stance right in front of you.

“Hey,” he started, his hands shoved into his pants pockets. “I was wondering if you were still free for tonight?”

Over the past two weeks, you and Cassian have been going out to dinner in order to learn more about each other so you can make your marriage look real. Neither of you know what kind of questions the immigration agent will ask, so you had to learn everything about each other, inside and out. It’s been nice, but after every dinner, you had to remind yourself that it was all fake. Your relationship is fake, the marriage will be fake, but you couldn’t help to feel real feelings. The dinners were a facade for the public, but at times the facade fooled you as well. Fooled you to think that it was real, and gave you false hope that anything could happen.

“Yeah,” you replied, ignoring the butterflies that were erupting in your stomach.

“Great,” Cassian said, a small grin appearing on his face, making your knee go weak. “I’ll pick you up around six.”

“Great,” you repeated. “I’ll see you then.”

You gripped the strap of your bag, and made your way out of the room towards the elevators, not bothering to give Cassian a goodbye. As soon as you got into the elevator, you pressed your head against the wall. You can’t catch feelings. You can’t risk this, and mess it up for both you and Cassian. But you couldn’t help but think about Cassian’s smile when hearing you were free. He smiled...

***

Cassian waited outside in front of your apartment building, leaning against his car. He would’ve gone up to get you, but you begged him not to. The first time he took you out, he came to your door. Some of your neighbors caught sight of him and instantly recognized him, which led to autographs and pictures and caused you two to be late to the dinner reservation. After that, you told him not to come up again, and he respected your wishes.

His head snapped up when he heard the building door open. Cassian’s stomach dropped to the street and every rational thought in his mind disappeared into the abyss. The only thing he could focus on was you. You were wearing a flowing magenta off the shoulders dress. The length ended just a little below your knee, revealing your smooth beautiful legs. You wore your hair naturally with a flower behind your right ear. Your stride was graceful and confident, like a queen. All the air escaped Cassian’s lungs, and he felt heat blooming in his core as well as his cock hardening.

“Hi,” you greeted. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Cassian got out, struggling to find proper words. “Let’s go.”

Cassian opened the passenger door for you, trying to think of things to calm himself down. The drive to the restaurant was silent. You didn’t say anything, just looked out the window, and Cassian couldn’t think of anything to say to you in that moment. He was still in shock of your beauty. He always thought you were a beautiful woman, but tonight you were strikingly gorgeous. The past couple of dinners, Cassian wanted them to be a date without an impending marriage hanging over your heads. But now, he desperately wanted tonight to be a date. He wanted to hold your hand, to hug you close, and to kiss you with everything he has. But then he remembered the annulment that you requested. He can’t have what he truly wanted. He was Tantalus and you were a delectable fruit. He could only admire the thing he wanted most, but knows he will never get it.

Cassian walked behind you as the two of you entered the restaurant. It was softly lighted, creating a romantic ambiance to the place that he originally didn’t intend. The place was near the beach, the gentle lapping of the waves heard in the background when the violinist was in between songs. Cassian has never been to this restaurant, and he mentally cursed Kay for suggesting this place. This place will only make it harder to suppress his feelings toward you.

The waiter sat you both at a table that was close to the beach and near the violinist. The candle light from the center of the table casted a soft glow on your face, bringing out your gentle features. Cassian had to be sure to take deep breaths every once in a while. This would be the last dinner as colleagues before becoming husband and wife. The thought still shocked Cassian.

“So that meeting today,” you said, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah,” Cassian let out, trying to think of something else to say. “Kinda crazy right?”

“I know,” you replied. “I just hope nothing changes between us.”

That comment hit Cassian like a bullet in the chest. So it was clear, you didn’t want anything else with him. He always thought that was how you felt, but hearing you actually say it hurts even more.

“Yeah,” Cassian agreed. “It’s only for a year anyways, it’ll be over before we know it.”

Cassian felt a pang in his heart when you pressed your lips into a thin line. This whole thing was crazy. Cassian knew he would fall deeper in love with you as this time goes by, which would make the split hurt more. He would be worse off next year compared to now. Cassian thought he was broken now, but once you walk away from this fake relationship, he will be shattered. Cassian couldn’t concentrate on the items on the menu, and decided to order whatever the chef recommends.

“Cassian,” you said, placing your hand on top of his softly, gently grabbing his attention. He felt an electric shock upon the touch, making it hard for him to concentrate. “Are you sure you want to do this? You could still back out, we didn’t sign the contract yet.”

Of course he wanted to do this. Sure you two would only be husband and wife on paper, wouldn’t be an actual couple, wouldn’t exchange blissful kisses, or even have sex. But he would still get to see you every day and night, and that was enough for him.

“I’m sure,” Cassian affirmed. “This is what’s best.” Cassian fumbled his other hand around in his pants pocket, reaching for the small velvet box. It was Anderson’s idea to make a formal proposal in public in order to get the support of the fans. They needed to get the public’s support so no one would dare question the nature of your marriage. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, rubbing your hands over your thighs. “Let’s do this.”

Cassian nodded, getting out of his seat and kneeling on one knee before you, the second time. He heard the collective gasps and “oh my gosh’s” of the other restaurant patrons. He saw the flashes of people taking pictures from his peripheral vision, and heard the whispers of others saying “Is that Cassian Andor from the Rebels?” The plan was working. Cassian brought out the navy blue box, presenting it to you, and opening it to reveal a dazzling two karat diamond ring. He had to admit it to himself, he found it fun picking out a ring for you. He wanted to get you something that was impressive but no too over the top. When his eyes landed on the chosen ring, he knew it would be perfect for you. But some of the dread washed up against him. At some point in the future he’ll have to return it. For now, however, he pushed those thoughts aside.

“Y/N L/N,” Cassian began. “Love of my life, my only one, will you marry me?”

He watched you bring both your hands to cover your mouth in shock, before pressing them against your heart. A smile spread across your face as tears formed in the corner of your eyes. You nodded your head, pretending to be at a loss for words then strangling out a quiet “yes.” You were a good actress.

Cassian smiled in turn, placing the ring on your finger as the small crowd around him applauded. He placed his hand along your jaw, bringing your lips to meet his. This was his first kiss with you, and he never wanted it to end. Your lips were smooth and soft to the touch, intoxicating if anything. But he pulled back, not wanting to get caught up in the action. He smiled at you when he broke away, watching as you did the same.

So this was it, the beginning of a long journey which would leave Cassian an utter mess. For a moment, however, he got caught up in the scheme. For a moment, he felt like he was actually proposing to you. For a moment, he felt that your yes was genuine. For a moment, he felt that your returned kiss matched his feelings. But it was all a lie; a coping mechanism for the impending future.

Cassian turned around, facing the multiple cameras and smiling with your hand in his. He nodded to some who waved, and thanked those who gave him congratulations.

And this is only the beginning, Cassian thought to himself.

To be continued...

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor #rogue one #star wars #sw #series #fluff #angst #love #diego luna #diego luna x reader

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angelkurenai · 5 years

Text

Imagine Dean realizing that he asked you to marry him while he was drunk, even though he’s already been carrying the ring for months before that.

“Well, good morning sunshine.” Sam said with a bright smile, maybe even a small chuckle, as he entered the kitchen. His only response was that of a cold glare. Or maybe it was a blank stare, he couldn't decide. Whatever the case Dean had never looked more grumpy and he knew it wasn't because that's how he was every morning before he had his coffee. It was because the previous night they had celebrated a little more than they should, with a bit too many drinks for a successful hunt.

“How can you be so freakin' cheerful at... whatever freakin' hour it is now...?” he narrowed his eyes “It's just too early man, I'm on second coffee and still can't keep my eyes open and you- you look like you could win Miss Universe right now.”

“Alright, first; that doesn't even make sense right now.” Sam made a face, pouring some coffee for himself “And second; I am so cheerful because unlike someone else in this room, had only two beers last night and not half the bar.”

“Well, then go be cheerful somewhere else. You're talking to loudly for me to stand right now, man. Hell you're even drinking too loudly for my head to take, just... tone it down.” Dean mumbled, rubbing his closed eyes. Yes, hangover Dean was the most grumpy Dean.

“Maybe, I'm saying, maybe, if you didn't get drunk off your ass last night then today you'd be feeling a lot better.” Sam suggested with a shrug and smile while Dean sent him a clear glare this time.

“Maybe, I'm saying, maybe if you decided to not yell at the moment I would be feeling a lot better.” he retorted and Sam rolled his eyes because his voice was obviously normal tone “And for the record, it's not the drinks. I wasn't even thatdrunk last night!”

And at those words, Sam's smile faded. He gave his brother a blank stare before speaking “Seriously? You weren't even that drunk? Dean, you were flirting with (Y/n)!”

“So what?” Dean scoffed, shrugging “She's my girlfriend!”

“Dean” Sam said all seriously “You asked her is she was single... And cried when she said she wasn't!”

“Oh huh.” Dean blinked “Maybe I was after all. But maybe just a bit.” he muttered, shrugging softly before taking a sip of his coffee “But if that's the most embarrassing thing I did then I'll be fine. (Y/n) has had to deal with a lot worse.”

“Uhm” Sam cleared his throat, bringing the cup closer to his lips “I didn't really say that was the most embarrassing thing you said or... did.” it all came a bit too fast and a bit too low for Dean to hear, as if Sam didn't want him to know, but too bad for him that Dean did hear.

“...Come again?” Dean asked after a couple second before narrowing his eyes at his brother “Sam? What else did I say or do? Besides flirt with (Y/n), I mean. And... cry about well, that.” he waved his hand and Sam shifted in his seat.

“Well, you know... drinking makes you say things that are supposed to be uhm, well, a secret you could say?” Sam said a bit slowly but hopefully as smoothly as possible, hoping he'd break it down on Dean as easily as possible.

“I mean, I don't have that many. In fact-” Dean pondered “I don't have any secrets from (Y/n). So I don't-”

“Well, you did have one.” Sam said mostly under his breath but Dean instantly caught it and his back straightened. For someone with a hangover, his senses were impeccably sharp.

“What did you just say?” he narrowed his eyes “And what do you mean by “did”, Sam?”

“Well, uhm it's not exactly considered a secret because you were planning on actually telling her. I- I mean sure, all that planning has been going on for four months now and you may have not told her a word about b-but I suppose that's how it happens when someone-”

“Oh no.” Dean breathed out when realization set down on him, his eyes widened and for a couple seconds he looked more sober than ever. Granted, the realization itself felt like a bucket of ice cold water being dumped on him.

“Uhm... yes.” Sam said almost apologetically.

“Please, tell me no. Tell me you're kidding. Tell me I didn't.” the way his eyes widened would have made Sam laugh but he felt bad for his brother so he didn't. Nor did he lie about it because the second you woke up, there would be no hiding that you knew.

“I'm sorry but... you did.” he said softly and Dean let his head fall in his hands as he groaned loudly.

“This can't get worse. This really can't get worse. It's-”

“And- and not only does she know about it but you also kind of uhm... went ahead with your plans... I think? I mean, you get it.”

“Shit” he breathed out in horror, eyes impossibly wide “It just did. Son of a bitch.” he said breathlessly “Where the hellwere you, Sam? You were the sober one, you should have stopped me! You should've-”

“Dude you were with your girlfriend, how was I supposed to know you'd screw up like that?” Sam threw his arms in the air “It's not my fault you just don't know when to shut up when you drink too much!”

“Well this time you should have known! You should have been able to stop me before I just blurted out I-”

“Adorably.” a third voice was heard and Dean's every single muscle tensed up “Adorably blurted.” and while on any other occasion he'd have melted when he felt his arms around him, this time he became more stiff when you hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek “There was quiet something adorable to you rambling with that cute little pout of yours and glossy eyes about how this guy I'm seeing is not worthy of me and how you may not be up my level either but how you'd do so much more for me. That or how you know me so much better, from every little flaw which, by the way, you have quiet the words to describe how much you love, to every other habit I have. Oh and let's not get started on just how well you know my habits or characteristics because then we'd have to talk about just how much attention you pay to them or how much time you spend thinking about them.”

You said all the words with a grin on your lips and Dean looked up from your hands around him only to sent Sam a look that he could practically hear from his brother saying “Seriously?” as if he should have done something to stop it.

“And then of course you went onto rambling about, you know, everything else about me that lead up to you wanting to buy this very ring-” it was impossible to not look at the ring he knew very well on your finger that very moment “And all the plans you had about proposing, which sounded real cute, and one thing led to another and-”

“I proposed.” he admitted with a groan as all you did was laugh before letting go of him “My gosh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I've- I've screwed up so bad, like, more than I ever have before in our lives. I can't believe I- I-”

“Hey, hey.” you cut him off gently, sitting next to him and taking hold of his hand “First, calm down. Second, I know that your brain refuses to function right now, but how about you decide to put 1+1 together and think what me wearing the ring you proposed to me with means? Oh and hint: The answer was a three-lettered word which by the way I was very sober when saying.”

“Wait you actually mean...?” but he trailed off, feeling his mouth go dry and his eyes widen even more than before. His heart did a crazy leap to his throat as compared to previously sinking in fear of rejection. And you smiled so lovingly at him before kissing his lips, softly whispering “Yes... again.” against his lips, he actually felt like he took a breath of fresh for the first time in the past couple minutes.

“So this actually means we're... We're getting married?” he couldn't stop the grin from spreading on his lips and you let out a giggle.

“Well, after your sappy drunk ass asked me so adorably in actual tears, how could I say no?” you kissed his cheek “Besides, it will make a cute and funny story to tell our future daughter when she asks right? Not so romantic and fairy-tale like the way you were thinking about but, still very cute.”

And of course as soon as the words left your lips and he took notice of the knowing smile on your lips, his completely vanished. His head snapped in Sam's direction as he all-but-glared at his brother “So the proposal was the only secret I spilled huh? The dream about oh let's say a daughter wasn't?”

“Dude, how was I supposed to know?! You said that you had no other secrets so I only assumed this wasn't a secret either.” Sam threw his hands in the air as Dean only shook his head with a groan. He dragged hand down his face all the while you chuckled softly.

“Come on, honey, it's not his fault you couldn't shut up about that or the house you've seen and have been thinking about getting.” you of course enjoyed making things worse to the point that this time Dean slammed his head on the table.

“I'm never drinking alcohol in my life again. Not a single freakin' drop.” he grumbled.

“Alright alright, we're not going to talk about that now. I don't plan to embarrass you any further.” you said reassuringly but he should have known better than to relax at yours words “But since we are on that topic... did you really have the ring for four months and didn't ask me?”

He groaned in embarrassment before repeating “Never!”

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean one shot #dean winchester one shot

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the-darkness-does-not-bargain · 5 years

Text

Gay Sailors AU, aka What the Water Gave Me chapter 2

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20172373/chapters/47861263

Chapter 2: Running Down to Cuba/Sail Away

The first month of the voyage passes unremarkably. The Princess, despite her initial grumbling, demonstrates an admirable work ethic and a sharp mind. She conducts a full reorganizing of the Swift Wind’s ledger as well as an up-to-date inventory. She calculates the pay bonus for the crew and sees that each of Adora’s swabbies gets their fair and equal part of the profit. She puts the rest toward hypothetical ship maintenance with Bow’s guidance, creating a budget they could consult should the Swift Wind need repairs at any point. She and Bow even become good friends and near-constant companions during this time, playfully bantering back and forth as they go about their work.

Adora admits that she’s impressed, and tells the Princess so. “Well, it’s not a big deal,” Glimmer says, though her pink cheeks suggest she relishes the praise. “I used to do stuff like this with my Aunt Castaspella. Or rather, she did it and I watched, but I picked up a lot from that.” She scuffs the toe of her boot against the deck. “Plus, it wasn’t a bad system that you had before. I just made it more organized.”

“Regardless, I appreciate it, lass. You’ve set us up proper well for when we dock in Salineas.”

Mention of their destination excites the Princess. “Soooo, how much longer until we get there?” She asks, as subtle as a shark chomping on your ass.

“To Salineas, it’ll be another two weeks, but in two days we’ll be docking in Seaworthy to resupply.”

Glimmer tilts her head. “Seaworthy? I don’t think I’ve heard of that city.”

Adora chuckles. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. One, it’s not a city, it’s a glorified pile of mud and sticks. And two, it’s not a place where highborn ladies like you should want to find themselves.”

“Why is that?” She leans in, whispering. “Are there pirates?” She just looks more excited.

“Aye, a few,” Adora concedes. “But you’re more likely to find slavers.”

Glimmer pulls back, disgusted. “Ugh, what loathsome criminals. It’s despicable what they do, thinking they can just kidnap people and sell them off to the highest bidder. I’m so glad we never let that happen in Bright Moon.” Adora does not mention that the slave markets in Bright Moon are just underground rather than out in the open. It doesn’t feel like the right time to enlighten the Princess about that. “I feel bad for Princess Mermista though,” Glimmer is saying. “I know she’s outlawed slavery like most of the kingdoms, but she doesn’t have the resources anymore to enforce the ban. When I’m Queen, I hope to fix that.”

“You’ve got a whole laundry list of noble aims, don’t you?” Adora says, softening her words with a fond smile. “You might be the only highborn I’ve ever met who concerns themselves overly much with the woes of commoners.”

Glimmer makes an irritated noise. “Don’t remind me. I’m so sick of the people in Mom’s court, that’s half the reason I left. I know she’s sick of them too, but as Queen she has to play their games. I’ll change that too when I ascend the throne.”

“Mm. Well, for now, you’re a deckhand, not a queen. And I think it’s time we start you on some other tasks.” Glimmer’s eyes light up at that, and she listens attentively as Adora deftly explains the ropes of maintaining the upkeep on a ship.

She did not undersell Seaworthy to Glimmer. It is exactly as she described, a glorified pile of sticks and mud. Ramshackle wooden buildings dot the sand alongside cramped-looking huts. It’s bustling and crowded the way a port town should be, but the people are of a mean and slovenly sort. The slavers are easy to identify, as they are the only people in relatively nice clothes. The pirates are also easy to spot, as they are usually drunk and/or fighting. From where she stands at the helm guiding the ship to the dock, she can already see one nasty-looking fistfight going on at an open-air seaside tavern. To her right, Bow hisses sympathetically when one combatant smacks a half-full bottle of rum against the other’s face, shattering it in an explosion of glass and syrupy brown liquor. “You never let it get to bottle-smashing time,” he says, shaking his head. “Bottle-smashing time is the big N-O.” Adora hums in agreement as she carefully steers the ship close enough for her crew to jump down and secure it.

Once they are successfully moored, she descends from the helm to meet her crew where they gather on the deck. Glimmer is there too, standing next to the bucket and mop she’d been using to swab the deck just moments before. The Princess has taken less well but still admirably to the physical labor of ship care, and Adora figures it bodes well for the girl’s lofty ambitions. “Alright, you lot,” she says loudly. “You’ve got the day and night to yourselves. You’ve been given your pay. I’ll be expecting t’see you all bright and early when we leave tomorrow, so if you drink yourselves silly and miss the ride, you’ll have none to blame but yourselves. And remember the rules: no killing, no thieving, and if I see any of you eyeing the slave auctions, I’ll remove that eye myself. Got me?” She isn’t ashamed to admit she channels some of her old crewmates’ attitudes to drive home the threat. She remembers how Octavia, that great tentacled beast of a woman, used to snarl and shout and wave her axe around whenever she saw swabbies breaking the rules aboard the Fright Zone, the ship where Adora was raised. She won’t wave the Sword around, but she’ll project the same intimidating air.

There is a chorus of assent from her underlings as they all make their way to the ramp. “Glimmer,” Adora calls, gesturing for the Princess to follow her into her quarters. Bow follows as well, being sure to lean against the door securely after they shut it.

“Whaaat is it, Cap?” Glimmer asks, concerned.

“I’ll get straight to the point, shall I?” Adora crosses her arms and adopts a serious face. “Glimmer, it is not safe for you in Seaworthy.”

“What? Are you stopping me from going?” She looks ready to launch into a royal tirade, but Adora raises a hand to quickly put a stop to that.

“I didn’t say that. Don’t go putting words in my mouth. What I am saying is that you’re the Princess of Bright Moon. You’re the highest of the highborn, and you can dress down and grease your hands all you want but you’ll still smell like a noble’s kid. And in a place like this, that doesn’t make you respected. It makes you valuable. I told you Seaworthy is full of slavers and pirates, and I meant it. If they notice you and manage to get you alone…” She doesn’t want to frighten Glimmer but she needs the girl to see sense, so she looks the Princess in the eyes with all the sincerity in her heart. “You will never see your home again.”

It works. Glimmer, for the first time since coming aboard, looks afraid. “So, so what do we do, then? I’m not going to let some lowlife crooks and thugs keep me shivering on my cot, Captain.” But there’s that determination, the fire Adora is getting used to seeing. Glimmer visibly rallies herself, straightening to her full (miniscule) height. “What do we need to make this work?”

Adora smiles. She really does like this poofy noble’s girl. “Well, lassie, what we need is to be smart about this. Bow!”

“On it, Cap!” Her first mate drags the chair from the desk and places it down in front of the Princess. “Take a seat, Glim!”

“Um, okay.” Once she’s seated, Bow places a wash rag around her neck. “What’s this for--- Hey! You just dumped water on me!”

“Relax, girl,” Bow says as he sets a now empty bucket aside. “I’m just getting your hair wet.”

“What for?” Glimmer pouts, crossing her arms.

“Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, Glim. Your hair is pretty but it’s also reeeeally noticeable. We have to do something about it before we go into town.”

“What’s the point? Will they really be able to spot me just by my hair?”

Adora shrugs as Bow starts to work his hands through the girl’s sodden locks, molding them into a new shape. “Pink and purple hair that naturally sparkles isn’t exactly common, lass. You’d be surprised how quickly the wrong people can connect the dots. Don’t worry, it’s just for while we’re here.”

Glimmer allows her hair to be fixed, though her brow scrunches when Bow finishes by securing a bright blue kerchief over her head, hiding all her hair from view. She touches it experimentally when Bow steps away. From her expression, it’s far from ideal, but it’s tolerable.

“That’s good. Just a few more things we need,” Adora says. She goes to her modest footlocker and pulls out a burgundy frock coat she normally keeps for windy days on the water. “Put this on.”

“Um, sure, Captain, but uh…” Glimmer looks Adora up and down. Her eyes are appreciative. “You know I’m nowhere near your size, right?”

“Yeesss,” Adora drawls patiently. “I’m well aware, but this shouldn’t be too big on you. It’s a normal coat on me so it’ll just be a long coat on you. Nothing to be remarked upon.” Once Glimmer’s put the coat on over her working clothes, Adora rustles through her locker for the last and most important touch. “There’s just one more thing.”

“Oh?”

“This,” Adora says, presenting the Princess with a curved knife that gleams in the sunlight. It’s a simple weapon, but well-made. No decorative touches, just a wicked edge sharp enough to cut flesh like butter.

Glimmer takes it from her hand like she’s holding a fragile ornament. “Are you sure?” She asks, displaying a rare moment of self-doubt. “I’ve never really used a weapon before, unless you count a polo mallet.”

“And hopefully you won’t need to use it today, but I won’t feel right about this unless I know you at least have something to defend yourself with. The basics? Go for the gut, and the neck. If you can get around them, strike at the back, as hard and as fast as you can, then get out of there.” Adora rests a hand on the Princess’s shoulder. “Never fight when you can run. It’s different for people like Bow and I, we have lots of experience with fightin’. But you don’t, and scarpering off with damaged pride is better than getting gutted like a fish.”

Glimmer takes a tighter grip on the hilt. “I understand, Captain.”

Adora nods, satisfied. “That’s good then. While we’re off the ship, I’d still like for you to stick close to me. I don’t need ya locked to my hip, but try not to get out of sight.”

Last minute preparations complete, the trio leave the captain’s quarters and climb the steps to the deck once more. When Adora looks around, she notices that another ship has docked next to the Swift Wind. She doesn’t recognize the flag it flies, but the design catches her attention. It’s a bright red depiction of a snarling jungle cat set against a field of black, the quintessential brigand’s color. This is a pirate vessel, and an impressive one at that. While the Swift Wind is a modified Argosy, meant for hauling cargo, this ship is a sleek and well-maintained Chebec, built for speed and maneuverability, a marauder’s two best friends next to sheer firepower.

She can see some of said marauders lazing about on the deck, assuming the majority must be off to drink with the rest of the sailors. Troubling though it is to be right next to such a potentially dangerous vessel, she decides not to worry about it right now. While it’s obvious that the Swift Wind is a cargo rig, the actual cargo itself is hidden away from potentially avaricious attention. It also helps that they don’t fly the colors of any of the kingdoms, and therefore are unlikely to be mistaken as a treasure ship. There’s no reason at all for an outsider to suspect them of carrying valuable black powder or a foreign royal passenger.

She tightens her belt where she’s fastened the Sword in its sheath, and her thumb strokes the handle. The peculiar metal of the pommel warms her skin, like a reassurance. Glimmer and Bow follow at her heels as she steps onto the rickety dock and then to the crystal white sands of Seaworthy.

The fight from earlier has long since wound down, though she doesn’t know who ultimately won. The other tavern patrons are back to carousing as if nothing happened, now with some of her own crew among them. She leaves them to it, walking past the buildings that court the wrath of the tide and heading deeper into the settlement. Bow, well-acquainted with Seaworthy’s layout, is quick to wander. Glimmer, conversely, sticks to Adora like glue. She glances at the Princess surreptitiously. She doesn’t see fear or trepidation, but it’s entirely likely that the girl just has a very good poker face, especially judging by how she keeps reaching for the knife on her belt, as if to make sure it’s still there. Adora chooses not to bring it up. She knows that Glimmer is tougher than the sorry dogs of this pit and that she’ll start feeling more comfortable soon. She allows the girl to knock into her hip every few seconds anyway, until she gets her feet under her.

The place they need to visit is what passes for a general store and trading post in a den of drunkards and outlaws. Seaworthy’s resources are limited, but they only need a few crates of fruit and barrels of fresh water to get them to Salineas. To reach the store, they have to walk by the slave market. It’s far from ideal, but it’s the fastest route to and from, and there’s always a chance the auction stage will be empty today. Adora always hopes and prays that it is whenever she has to walk by. She has a bad history with such places, to say nothing of their inherent horribleness. She quite vividly remembers when some slavers tried to put her in chains and drag her to market, though not this one specifically. That had ended with her killing them, all seven of them, with the Sword. Bow had been with her at the time, also in chains, and they’d both been run out of town in the aftermath. It’s an interesting way to meet your best friend, if nothing else, she thinks, fondly.

They walk around the corner on the correct road and Glimmer stops dead. Adora almost runs into her, and when she gets a look at the girl’s face, she understands. The Princess’s mouth is hanging open, and her eyes are filled with shock and horror. Adora doesn’t have to look to know why. She can hear it. Shouting, the bellow of an auctioneer, the clanking of manacles. A symphony of greed and cruelty. They are not lucky today. The flesh market is in full swing.

“Ah man,” Bow groans, walking up to Adora and Glimmer from one of the other shops. “This is not what I wanted to deal with today.”

“I can’t believe it,” Glimmer whispers. “I mean, I knew they existed theoretically, but I never thought…”

“There’s nothing we can do,” Adora says, though the words are bitter on her tongue. She looks away. “Let’s g---”

A cry from the stage has her turning back abruptly. It’s wrong, it’s too young. Her gaze follows the sound to its source, and she gasps. A kid… a little boy, gods he can’t be older than 8. He’s dressed in little more than dirty rags, and the auction guards have dragged him out of an iron cage full of other kids. The Sword vibrates in its sheath, rattling violently of its own accord. But Adora’s gaze doesn’t leave that little boy, even as she sees several other children pulled out onto the stage in chains. She doesn’t register anything beyond the tears rolling down their dirty faces and the deafening screech of the Sword consuming her thoughts. She hears It speak, feels Its command in her bones. Act Now.

“Captain, Captain!” Suddenly, Bow is there, standing in front of her, and he’s pushing her shoulders back desperately. “You can’t! You know you can’t!”

“There are children on that stage, Bow,” she growls, and her voice is the thousand voices of the Sword, all of them raging and screaming for justice. She tries to pull the Sword free as it hums in her grip, but then Glimmer’s hands are clamped around her own as the Princess does her damndest to stop Adora from drawing the weapon.

“I know,” Bow says, his words cutting through the sobs of the babes, and she turns from the awful scene to meet his brown eyes, finding them full of sorrow. “I know, Adora, but you can’t help them like this. Even with the sword, there’s too many people here. They’ll shoot you dead before you can even get up there! You know they will, they won’t hesitate! Urrgh, help me out here, Glim,” he says as he throws his all his body weight into keeping her at bay.

“Uh! Hey, Captain, Adora, how about we step away for a minute, huh?” Her voice is high-pitched with fear. “Maybe talk a walk, get a drink, go look at seashells? How ‘bout it?” She grunts with the effort of trying to shove Adora’s hand back down and pry her fingers from the Sword’s hilt. “Oh, and maybe we could stop aggressively speaking in gibberish? That sounds like a great plan to me!”

Adora hadn’t realized she was still talking. The common tongue she knows has been replaced by the bizarre language she only hears in her dreams. She only vaguely understands the words coming out of her mouth. Vengeance. Retribution. Balance. Honor. Grayskull. The Sword is speaking through her, acting with her body. She must carry out Its will.

“Oh man!” Bow’s voice is distant from her now, nearly drowned out by the shrieking and sobbing. “I’ve got no choice. Adora, you’ll thank me for this later!” The hands on her shoulders vanish and, freed at last, she puts the first foot forward towards justice and victory and honor for Grayskull and---

Bow punches her squarely in the eye.

Her vision explodes with stars and she stumbles back from the unexpected blow, losing sight of the stage as she falls on her ass. She puts the hand that had been on the Sword over her screaming, throbbing eye and curses so violently Glimmer squeals in shock. “Bow!” She snarls, glaring murderously up at the man’s face. “What the fuck was that for?”

“That was to stop you from getting yourself and the two of us killed,” Bow says unapologetically. He isn’t fazed by her ire, merely raising a single, judgmental brow until she begrudgingly settles down. The Sword is still screeching in her brain, but she can move on her own again and she chooses to stay put. After she sits in the dirt for a minute and takes a few deep breaths, Bow offers her a hand up that she accepts with a huff, and he forcefully turns her body away from the auction. “Adora, you’ve got to go back to the ship.”

“I’m fine now, Bow, I just need some air.”

“Yes, air you can get back on the deck of the Swift Wind, away from here. Come on, let’s move.” He has to stand on his toes to do it, but he wraps an arm around her shoulders and politely but firmly leads her back down the road to the shore.

“I don’t need to be coddled,” she snaps, trying to shrug him off to no avail.

“Um, Adora,” Glimmer, who is walking to her left, says hesitantly. “Do you know how you looked back there?” The harsh remark she was about to make gets stopped in its tracks. Because, truthfully, she doesn’t know. The Sword has never taken control of her body before. It’s helped her in battle, sure, sharpening her reflexes and gently guiding her steps. But this forceful demanding, acting out in her skin, speaking Its words with her mouth and calling for bloodshed in the name of Grayskull GrayskullGrayskullGrayskull? She doesn’t know what that was or what to do about it.

She clutches her head as it pounds mercilessly. The Voices give her no peace, only hounding her to charge and to fight.

No, she doesn’t know how she looked. But if all of this, Glimmer’s expression, and Bow punching her in the face are anything to go by, it was bad. Very bad.

She lets the two of them lead her away from the auction area. Once they get back to the seaside bar, Bow lets her go. “Glim and I will take care of the resupply. You go get some rest, okay Cap?”

“Yeah sure,” Adora says dully. The Sword seems to settles as they get farther and farther from the stage, and it takes all her energy with it when it quiets. She feels like she just swam through a storm. Bow pats her on the back and Glimmer smiles at her reassuringly.

They leave her alone on the beach as they walk back into town. Once they’re gone, her shoulders slump, and she glances dismally down at the blade on her hip. She’s glad that It’s calm again, but now she has a million questions and no way of getting a single answer. Nothing new there, she thinks as she sits down in the sand, wiping sweat from her forehead. The sun warms her skin as she rests and it eases away some of the tension in her body. A stiff drink or three will take care of the rest, she knows.

She shuts her eyes and breathes deeply, taking in the salt air. When she opens them again, she catches a glimpse of dark-furred, pointed ears in her periphery. Brow furrowing, she looks around, but only sees the end of a feline tail disappearing behind a shack far down the beach. Surely…

No. Don’t be ridiculous, she chastises herself, shaking her head. There are plenty of cat-folk that take to the sea, even ones who aren’t orphans raised on pirate ships with big dreams, warm hands, and soft lips. Sighing, she takes this as her cue to finally go back to her ship. As she does, she passes by a group of sailors playing some dice game on the dock. They look up at her she walks by, and she gets a bad feeling from their stares. She meets them head-on, of course, because she won’t let anyone intimidate her (again). The Sword whispers a warning.

One of them, a scorpion-woman even bigger than she, stands up, and Adora’s jaw tightens with tension. The woman, who has short white hair and large red claws and tail, smiles brightly at her. “Hi!” She says cheerily. “Don’t pay no mind to us, unless you’re likin’ to join our game.”

Adora manages to smile back courteously. “Thanks, I’ll be havin’ to pass today. I’ll wish ya a fine bout though.”

“Alright,” the woman says, unfazed. “Bye!” She waves a bulky pincer before she sits back down with her compatriots. Adora continues the walk to the Swift Wind, but she feels their interested eyes on her back the whole way there. She catches sight of the pirate flag waving proudly from the mast of the ship next to hers, and concludes that she just met some of its crew.

She takes a nap as Bow suggested after downing half a bottle of whiskey and pressing a cool, damp rag over her poor eye. It leaves her groggy and ravenous when she wakes up, but she didn’t dream of anything more than the Sword’s constant litany of whispers, so she’ll take it what she can get. She stumbles out onto her deck again to see the sun slowly setting behind the palm trees. Her deck is still empty, with all her workers off getting pissdrunk on cheap alcohol and throwing their remaining coin at prostitutes. They are sailors after all, so you can only expect so much when you give them money and then let them wander about on land.

Bow is probably among them making sure no one drinks themselves to death or unemployment. He’s a dedicated mother hen and has been since the day she met him. She expects that will never change.

She wonders where the Princess has run off to as well. She doesn’t need to wonder long though, as she soon spots a familiar blue kerchief and coat heading down the dock. Glimmer is carrying something in both her hands, bowls by the look of it, and she has to take slow and careful steps up the ramp to avoid dropping them.

“There you are,” she greets Adora. She gingerly holds out one of the bowls, which is steaming and smells like stew. “Bow said this was your favorite, and I just figured you hadn’t eaten anything yet, since the cook is, um, indisposed at the moment.” Adora takes the bowl with a smirk as she ponders what Princess Glimmer with her upper-class manners really means by “indisposed”. Knowing her cook, it could be any number of things, the crazy gob.

“I appreciate it,” she says to Glimmer. “Let’s go sit to eat, unless you’re heading back out.”

Glimmer shakes her head. “No, I think I’ve seen enough of Seaworthy.”

“Not to your taste, eh lass?”

Glimmer rolls her eyes, grinning. “No, but I knew that after what you told me this morning. I dunno though, I suppose for a filthy hovel of flea-bitten vagabonds and criminals, it’s better than I expected.”

“Well, fortunately we won’t be stopping anywhere else like this on our trip. Next stop is Salineas, the gleaming sapphire of Etheria,” she says as she holds the door to her quarters open for the Princess.

“I’m so excited!” The girl squeals in delight. “I’ve wanted to visit Salineas since I was 5.”

“Well, I can safely tell you that the capital will likely live up to your expectations, unlike this old trash heap. I’ve always enjoyed my time there.” Glimmer claps her hands together in enthusiasm.

The stew is fish-based, packed with chunks of bass and mackerel along with shrimp in a thin but flavorful gravy. It is her favorite, and on the first bite she groans in pleasure. “Thank you for bringing this to me,” she says again.

Glimmer shrugs. “Of course, least I could do.” She takes a dainty bite of her own food. They eat in silence for a time until the Princess looks across the desk at Adora thoughtfully. She swallows her spoonful and asks, “So we know why I’m here, but how is it you came to be here?”

Adora shrugs. “I worked on this ship, and when the old captain retired, she gave command to me.”

The Princess rolls her eyes again. “No, I mean, how did you even become a sailor? How long have you been one? Where are you from?”

“Nowhere,” she responds simply.

“Nowhere?”

“I was raised on a ship, one that sailed all year round. Life on the water, moving from port to port, it’s all I’ve ever known. The people I sailed with never mentioned a homeland or other origin. They might’ve plucked me straight from the waves for all I know. Would explain why I can’t bear to leave the sea now.”

“Really?” The Princess is fascinated. “Did you not have a mom or dad?”

Adora shrugs a little stiffly, as Shadow Weaver isn’t a topic she cares to get into. “Not as such, though I guess you could say I was brought up by a woman on the ship.” She swirls her spoon around. “Whenever I asked, she would spin the same tale of finding me as a wee babe, left alone and abandoned to die on a rock, but she would never say where. Told me it didn’t matter and would smack my hands for asking.”

“That’s awful,” Glimmer whispers.

“I mean, it could have been much worse, but yeah, it should have been better I think.”

“What kind of ship was it that you sailed on?”

Now isn’t that a loaded question. Adora looks at the Princess very carefully. She’s spent a month in relatively close quarters with the girl, and she likes to think she’s gotten a beat on her. She’s sure that Glimmer won’t judge or make a fuss, but as for… “Okay, if I tell you this, you cannot tell your mother, ever.”

The other girl leans in. “Ooo, you got it. My lips are sealed.” She even acts out placing a wax seal on her mouth. Adora really does like her.

‘Okay,” she chuckles. “Well… it was a pirate ship.”

“You were a pirate?” She really should not sound so excited about that.

“Not so much one myself, but I lived and worked on their ship. I was just a whelp who cleaned the deck and carried their spoils. When I was older, they taught me how to fight with a sword, but that was it really. I was on that ship until I was 17.”

“Why did you leave?”

Adora covers up her grimace by taking another bite of stew, which tastes like ash on her tongue. Two successive gun shots echo in her mind while the Sword whispers angrily. Fright Zone. Catra. Hordak. Falling. “Oh, well, things change. Are you finished?”

“Oh uh, yeah, I guess.” Glimmer looks confused by the sudden change of subject but doesn’t protest when Adora takes her bowl. She starts to leave through the door when she hears Glimmer turn around. “Were you all alone on that ship, except for that woman?” What the--- Where did that question come from?

Adora glances back at Glimmer, searching her face for any sign of subterfuge or ill intent. She doesn’t find any. The Princess seems honestly curious and maybe even concerned about her. It’s the concern that loosens her tongue to answer honestly. “No, I wasn’t. There was one other girl my age.”

“And where is she now?”

There’s a knot in her throat, one she struggles to swallow. In her mind, she sees a mischievous smirk, hears the feline snicker she remembers so well. Don’t cough up a hairball, Adora. That’s my job.

“I don’t know,” she finally admits. Turning away, she curses how unsteady her voice has become. “I’ll be back once I return these bowls, and then we’ll both go to bed.” Where she’ll be finishing the other half of that bottle.

She leaves the room quickly, too quickly, but she doesn’t care. It’s fully night when she emerges onto the deck. She can see that some of her crew have finally made it back, if only to pass out on the woodwork. Stepping onto the dock, she sees that the gang of dice-rolling pirates has vanished. That should make her feel relieved, but it doesn’t.

It’s oppressively quiet. No sounds disturb the night beyond the gentle rush of waves and the crackling of torch fires. There’re no glasses clinking or drunken laughter, no musicians playing shanty tunes or even footsteps save her own. The Sword whispers another warning as she makes her way to the beach tavern.

A subdued looking bar wench takes the dirty bowls from her and walks off without a word. Strange. Come to think of it, the tavern is unusually empty for this time of night. Only a few people, most of them hers, are sitting on the stools, and even they seem to be affected by the tense atmosphere. Bow is there too, and he waves her over when she notices him.

“What’s going on?” She asks him as quietly as she can. The Sword’s litany has picked up, but now it’s repeating the same word over and over again. Justice Juusticce Jusssticcce…

“I have no idea,” Bow answers, clearly ill at ease. “About ten minutes ago, everyone just started clearing out of here. No one’s on the streets either. It’s like a ghost town out here. And…” he glances about nervously. “I saw a whole bunch of people leaving that ship docked next to us. You know, the one with the black flag?”

“Shit,” Adora hisses, rubbing her tired eyes.

“Yeah, and they looked armed to the teeth. They disappeared going that direction.” He jerks a thumb behind him, pointing down the beach to the same place where Adora saw those familiar pointed ears.

“Damn…” She looks around. Her present crew members are mostly awake, if sloshed, but not all of them are in this particular bar. If someone’s about to set this rathole on fire or worse, they need to book it out of the harbor as quickly as possible, and she won’t leave any of her people behind. “Okay, okay. Bow, you get these lads up and moving back to the ship. Get us ready to leave and be prepared to push us off at a moment’s notice. I’ll go find the rest and bring them back, and then we go.”

“Yes, Captain.” Bow stands, so careful to not even scrape his stool across the sandy wooden floor. He puts a hand on her shoulder as she turns to leave. “Come back soon. And do it in one piece.”

Her smile is more confident than she is. “You know me, Bow. It’ll take a lot more than a few pirates to put me down.” Then she jogs away, trying to stay quick and light on her feet, with one hand grasping the Sword’s hilt.

Bow was right about Seaworthy becoming a ghost town. She creeps down the sandy streets alone, seeing no signs of life beyond the occasional flutter of a curtain. She makes an educated guess that the rest of her crew are holed up in the one brothel in town, a small, scummy, sticky den of iniquity that was nevertheless the richest business in the area after the slave auctions. It is located on the further end of the settlement, close where the ruddy shacks end and the wild frontier begins.

She takes side paths and ducks behind buildings to get there, intent on staying out of sight of any potential threats. But as she tiptoes, swerves, and maneuvers, she sees the shadows move. She is not alone. At one point, she ducks behind a couple of barrels, and from the darkness ahead of her two figures run with their faces obscured by hoods and bandanas. They are armed, one with a short sword and the other with a nasty looking dagger, and both have pistols holstered on their belts. Adora shivers as they pass her by without notice. Gods, she hates guns.

The two brigands turn and rush down the road, and she absently notes that they’re heading in the direction of the slave market. She doesn’t stop to consider them further however, as she’s got sailors to extract. She steps out from behind the barrels and continues on her way.

The guard standing outside the whorehouse nearly pulls his falchion on her when she walks up to him. “State ya business,” he growls in a deep, gravelly voice that doesn’t mask his fear.

Adora holds up her hands in a calming gesture. “I’m just here to pick up my workers. I’m not here for no trouble.”

For a moment, it doesn’t look like he believes her, but then he reluctantly steps back from the door. “Make it quick, then get out,” he says.

“Exactly my intention,” she says as she pulls the door open and goes in.

Finding her remaining sailors is easy. Even here the tension is palpable, and the place is mostly empty of customers. She has to drag out a few of the drunken lummoxes by their ears, but they follow eventually. She tosses a bag of gold at the madam as they leave, telling her to keep the change.

All that matters now is getting back to the Swift Wind. She leads her men along the edge of town, a narrow but straight path where she isn’t likely to lose anyone on the way.

They’re parallel to the auction stage when suddenly there’s a great and thunderous BOOM! She tosses her arms up in front of her face before she’s blinded by the light of the explosion happening not 100 yards away from them. The force of it sends her stumbling back and knocks her unsteady compatriots to the sand. When she finally puts her arms down, she gawks with wide eyes at the roaring fire that has erupted, reaching up toward the starry sky and coming from the stage area.

“Go, get to the ship. Now!” She shouts at her crew.

“But, Cap, what about you?” One of them thinks to ask while the rest hasten to follow orders.

She puts a hand on his shoulder, smiles briefly, and then shoves him in the direction of the beach. “I’ll be there soon. Off with you now!” He swallows, looking between her and the sparkling waters in the distance. Then he nods shortly and runs after the others.

She should follow him. She knows she should. But that fire is massive, it could easily spread to the other buildings. She might not like Seaworthy much, but she has no desire to see it and its residents reduced to ash. The least she can do is try to stop that from happening. The Sword vibrates against her leg, and she feels its mysterious power flood her veins, emboldening and encouraging her. Without further hesitation she sprints toward the inferno.

The closer she gets, the more she sees and hears. It’s chaos, violent, bloody chaos by the auction stage. A full goddamn battle is taking place in the square, with an undulating mass of combatants savaging each other with swords, axes, and guns. From what she can see, some even have torches that they’re waving around and jabbing into the unprotected sides of their foes. The fighting is so intense it’s almost a free-for-all, but she can discern that there are at least two different groups composing the fray: the pirates that she and Bow saw, and the local slavers and their entourage of guards.

From amidst in the tussle, someone sends a hand bomb soaring over the battlefield, aiming at the building behind the stage where the slavers typically caged their cargo and finalized their deals. Adora gasps in horror as the wooden barn explodes with concussive force. There’s a triumphant roar from half of the battling throng, the brigand half specifically. Billowing clouds of smoke fill the air and the flames turn the night sky an evil, hazy orange.

She doesn’t have much time, but if she can skirt around the edges of the skirmish, she might reach the barn and hopefully rescue those trapped inside. She starts to run, dodging stray bullets and throwing knives as she makes her way past. But her progress is stopped abruptly when a bruising, merciless hand clamps down on her bicep. She is yanked backward and put face-to-face with an ugly, pock-marked man with one good eye and at least seven missing teeth. She vaguely recognizes him as one of the auction guards, and raises a mighty fist to send the rest of his teeth right down his throat. She is beaten to the (metaphorical and literal) punch, however, when a hulking crimson claw comes from the left and clamps down on the man’s neck. He releases Adora’s arm to struggle desperately against this one, but it’s no use as he is pitilessly choked and slammed into the sand. He doesn’t get up again, but the scorpion woman from this afternoon does.

“Oh, hey! Nice to see you again! Though, uh, you might wanna get out of here.” The woman smiles cheerfully at Adora, as if the battle raging behind her is barely an afterthought.

“But--- you---,” she digs her nails hard into her scalp, staring in disbelief at this pirate. “You people are going to burn the damn town down!” She finally shouts. She points angrily toward the auction building. “And that! There might still be people in there!”

“Oh, there?” The woman looks at the barn, unconcerned. “Eh, don’t worry about that. We’ve already evacuated that place. There’s no one there now. And don’t be worryin’ about the fire, we’ve got it under control!”

Their conversation, if you can call it that, is interrupted when another of the guards charges the scorpion woman with a scimitar lofted above his head. Adora gets her chance for payback now as she lunges forward and slams the pommel of the Sword into his gut. It’s a powerful blow, laying the man out on the ground where the other woman proceeds to stomp on his head.

“Thanks for that!” She says, beaming. She glances down at their fallen enemy and then up at the vicious fight before them. “Really though, luv, you should leave. We’ve got this handled. Head back to that handsome ship of yours now, okay?” She doesn’t say another word, instead hopping back into the fracas and disappearing.

Adora is left stunned, staring at the place in the crowd where she vanished. It’s only when she very narrowly avoids taking a throwing knife to the shoulder that she shakes off her incredulity and decides the woman is right. She spares a final, worried look at the collapsing barn before she turns tail and runs as fast as her feet will take her. She doesn’t stop sprinting until her feet are clapping against the damp wood of the dock and she can see her crew looking over the sides of the Swift Wind, while Bow stands at the helm. Her ship is unmoored and the ramp has already been drawn up, but she pays no heed, instead barreling to the end of the walk and taking a flying leap, intent on catching hold of the tough oak railing. Her crew, the ever-loyal lot, are there to grab her arms and hoist her up onto the deck as she does so.

Doubled over and out of breath, she gives the signal to Bow, who wastes no time steering the ship away from the dock. Two of her swabbies help her to sit atop a sturdy crate, smacking her on the back reassuringly. She looks up to see Glimmer rushing over to rest a steadying hand on her shoulder. Her glittering eyes are filled with both fear and relief. Adora covers the Princess’s hand tightly with her own, as she gazes out over the ship’s bow at the dancing lights and smoke still pouring out from Seaworthy.

She watches them flicker and spark even as the Swift Wind turns and glides out of the harbor.

#she ra #spop #she-ra #she ra and the princesses of power #my writing #what the water gave me #adora #catra #catradora

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alo-piss-trancy · 4 years

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hi sorry to bother you but do you have any more akira omo fics planned? yours are honestly the best and i'd love to know what/if you're planning on writing with him in the future, or if you have any sneak peaks you'd be willing to share hehe. also have you ever thought about doing commissions because i'd happily pay for an akira omo fic since you write them so well!

Ahh no worries anon, it's never bothering me! I like getting asks! 💛 And oh my goodness that's really sweet of you to say!!! 😻

I've thought about taking commissions before actually, but 1. I'd have to make a whole separate paypal and email and junk which seems complicated for just that 1 purpose and 2. I write too slowly and jump between too many projects, and can only write what I'm vibing with at the time. My juggling system works fine for me writing for fun, but I think if I put the kind of deadline and pressure on myself that comes with paying customers and expectations I'd just end up in a loop of procrastination and writer's block, or half-assing things just to get them done. The extra cash would certainly be nice, but it's just not worth the stress and risk of backfiring haha (and also charging by word count wouldn't work well for me or customers since all my oneshots are long af)

I'm super flattered by the sentiment! 💛 It's just not something doable for me right now. If anyone really wants to pay for a fic, I'd be willing to accept fanart/fic of my faves in return 👀 that's a joke lmao no one feel obligated plz, I'm honestly happy putting out my stuff for free

And now to get back on topic: I'm afraid I don't have a ton planned for him at the moment or WIPs to show since 1. I dumped all those abandoned p/5 omo drafts onto my tumblr to clear my files and 2. 90% of my omovember stuff is D/R oops 😅

But I do really want to do a fic of himXT/ae as a sort of continuation of that old drabble I posted back in the day. (My idea was gonna be for the omovember diuretic prompt, but then I had the Kir/igiriXCel/este one drafted first instead so I'll be prioritizing that). I still wanna do it though, maybe even with them on a public date or smth bc Ak/ira is just enough of a cocky boi to risk it and T/ae would be interested in forcing him to put his money where his mouth is lol

There's also that elevator prompt with him and Ry/uji I'd really like to get around to. I've also always loved the idea of him getting desperate but too nervous to get up during the plane ride to Hawaii and how a few of them might deal with that, OR that one hc anon (you perhaps? Idk how many p/5 anons I have lol) sent me about him chugging soda/being desp suddenly and constantly and it hitting during a Palace.

So yeah I've got a few good ideas just... not the extra time/attention to devote to them right now RIP. Hopefully if my writing brain isn't dead after I finish my omovember fics and that one fe/mslash kin/kmeme fic I can start getting around to at least one 😿 Because I really do miss writing him and 'Cops and Robbers' didn't feel like it 'counted' since it was past canon and didn't have much real plot (like, I loved writing it, but it didn't give me that comfy feeling of my p/5 home since it was a future timeline and the cheesy roleplay interfered with characterization so it wasn't really writing A/kira)

Tbh I also had some ideas involving him that were based on PQ/2 actually, but unfortunately my 3ds finally kicked the bucket a while ago so I haven't gotten far enough into the game for the plots I wanted to base the fics on RIP. I'm hoping to save any Christmas money I get from relatives and my own savings I've set aside to get a replacement next year if all goes well though, so if I get sucked into that maybe I'll start writing a bunch of those haha

#bear gets a letter #persomo #p/5 spoilers #tldr i have ideas and plan to write him eventually lmao it'll just be a while

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hallowedhobi · 5 years

Text

A Little (Lot of) Glitter to Add to Your Sunshine

Yoongi/Hoseok

Rating: M

Warnings: Smut/Fluff

Length: 4k

It’s not every day that you fuck up badly enough to have accidentally doused the really hot guy next door in an ungodly amount of glitter. Hoseok, it seems, fucked up badly enough.

It was innocent enough, to begin with. Hoseok was helping Tae and Jimin paint their apartment, and of course, these assholes had to have glitter. Glitter. Of all things, they wanted glitter on their walls. He didn’t even know how they had the permission (or if they did at all) but he didn’t live there and he sure as hell wasn’t about to question it, he was only there to help. Oh, and of course Hoseok had to forget about the completely swoon-worthy neighbor that they had raved about for almost a week. That was, until he walked out of his apartment and Hoseok nearly dropped the bucket of primer he was carrying down the hallway. The red and white sweater he was wearing hung loosely off his frame ending right before the waistband of his skin-tight black jeans that hugged his ass in all the right places. Hoseok quickly picked his jaw up off the floor, hoping that the stranger didn’t notice his ogling. Or notice him at all. Maybe he’d make his way through the next few days without dying. He carried the primer back into their apartment and got to work.

Taehyung and Jimin are so lucky that Hoseok loved them as much as he did. Otherwise, they would be so dead right now. So, so dead. The guy actually hadn’t noticed Hoseok, at least not on his way out. Hoseok walked through the propped open door of the boys’ apartment to find them waiting for him, smirking as he gave them a questioning glance.

“What now? What have you done?” He asked, actually very terrified to know the answer. With those two, nothing is out of the realm of possibilities.

“What do you mean, what have we done, Hyung? We were wondering what you were doing,” Jimin replied, the smirk never leaving his face.

“We saw you finally got a glimpse of the neighbor,” Taehyung said. “A very long glimpse. You know if anyone were to see you they may have thought you were staring at his ass.”

“Yah!” Hoseok whisper-yelled. “Someone will hear you.”

“Oh, so you were,” Taehyung said with a giddy little laugh.

“I did not say that, Kim Taehyung,” Hoseok replied, ears turning as red as the strangers’ sweater.

Jimin turned to Taehyung, “Oh my god, he totally was.” Hoseok just groaned.

They worked for about a half hour, ending up with primer all over the, thankfully covered in plastic, floors before Hoseok heard his two dongsaengs sniggering at him again.

“Why don’t you go help him, hyung?” Jimin whispered, suddenly right next to him.

“Help who?” he asked, turning around to see the cute neighbor struggling to get his door unlocked with the amount of grocery bags he held in his hand. Hoseok just sighed in resignation, knowing he couldn’t just let the poor man suffer. He sat down his brush and headed over to the hallway.

“Hi…um…do you maybe, uh, need help with your bags?” Hoseok asked the stranger. The man turned around and Hoseok was kind of awestruck. This man was beautiful. He had sharp cheekbones and an even sharper jawline, but his eyes were soft and his lips, well his lips looked so plush and kissable that Hoseok found himself staring.

“Um, yeah if you wouldn’t mind,” The stranger said in a timid voice, “That’d be really nice.”

Hoseok snapped out of his trance and reached forward to grab one of the armfuls of bags the man was carrying. With the man finally able to unlock his door, he walked into the apartment, Hoseok trailing behind him.

“My name’s Hoseok by the way, Jung Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you,” he said, depositing his bags on the counter where the man had led him. The man turned around, offering a hand to Hoseok. He took it, and it was just as soft as the rest of him looked.

“Min Yoongi,” He said, a little more confident this time. “Thanks again for the help. I don’t know if I would have ever gotten the door open without having to set everything down.”

“It’s really no problem! I should get back to dumb and dumber before they destroy their apartment with paint, but I’ll see you around, Yoongi-ssi,” He said, glancing back toward the apartment he came from. He could have sworn he heard a mumbled “I sure hope so” come from Yoongi, but when he looked back to Yoongi, his face hadn’t changed.

“See you around, Hoseok-ssi.”

The next few days were normal as could be, seeing as they got the actual paint on the walls without killing each other, though there was not an absence of teasing Hoseok about his interactions with Yoongi. They saw each other in the hall, giving a polite wave and nice to see you again’s, Hoseok trying very hard not to stare as Yoongi walked past him away from the apartment doors. One of the nights Hoseok even helped him again. He was carrying what looked like music recording equipment and after Hoseok helped him get everything settled they sat on Yoongi’s couch and talked about their lives. Hoseok told him how he was a dancer and teacher at the studio downtown. Yoongi was a successful producer at a small company in the town over, but he was opening his own here so he didn’t have to commute every day. Hoseok decided after about two hours that he should leave and let Yoongi get some sleep, so he did, although a little reluctantly.

It was day five when tragedy struck. It was close to midnight and they had finally, finally, gotten all the fucking glitter on the stupid walls. He did have to admit, it looked better than what he thought it would, but clean up was a bitch. They eventually got most of the leftover glitter into one paint tray, and somehow Hoseok ended up being the one tasked with disposing of said glitter tray. It was late and Hoseok was tired, his eyes were drooping, and he just wanted to get back so he could crash in the guest bed. His one-track mind was most likely the reason he didn’t notice one Min Yoongi, equally as tired and eyes just as droopy, walking toward his own apartment. Both of them, however, noticed when they crashed into each other, the tiny evil sparkles flying everywhere, but mostly landing on Yoongi. Their heads snapped up, both fully awake and aware now, albeit in quite a bit of shock.

“Well fuck.” was all that Hoseok said at first, then snapping out of it, “Shit, oh my god, I am so sorry, Yoongi-ssi. Dammit, why is it always me?”

“Always you?” Yoongi asked a little indignantly. “I’m the one who just got a fuck ton of sparkly shit dumped on their head. And did you just call me Yoongi-ssi after smacking me with a tray of glitter? Pretty sure that could qualify for the use of Hyung.”

They looked at each other for a beat and then Hoseok burst out laughing, shortly followed by Yoongi.

“You know,” Hoseok managed in between chuckles, “at least it looks good on you.” He dissolved into another fit of laughter when Yoongi gave him an incredulous look.

“Let me at least go change my clothes and I’ll come help you clean up what we can,” Yoongi offered.

“Hyung, you really don’t have to, it was my fault,” he replied.

“It’s okay, consider it payback for helping me with my bags and equipment.”

“Okay, if you really want.” Yoongi then turned around to unlock his door, glitter still periodically falling from his hair. Today he donned a pair of tight-fitting athletic pants. Did everything he owned show his body off so well? It was driving Hoseok crazy.

“I can feel you staring at my ass.”

Hoseok sputtered and felt his neck and face flush pink.

“I…I was not staring at your ass.”

“Whatever you say, glitter boy.”

✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼

It was nearing 1:30 am and the glitter had been cleaned up. Well, the glitter had been attempted to be cleaned up. It took the better part of an hour to gather what they could, especially with Yoongi on the floor in those pants that had Hoseok pausing to catch his breath every once in a while. Damn, Hoseok was usually better than this, but it was like the man was deliberately wiggling his ass in Hoseok’s face to tease him. Asking him to stare. Dammit. They eventually finished getting every malicious little speck possible. They were about to part ways, giving good nights when Hoseok tried to open the door to Glitter Land™. Locked. No way. He jiggled the doorknob again. Didn’t budge.

“Those fuckers!” He said, maybe a little too loudly for one-thirty in the morning. He turned his head to Yoongi who was watching from his door frame with mirth in his eyes. Hoseok glared.

“Not funny,” he grumbled. “They know I took the bus here, I don’t have a way home. Assholes. Never helping them again.” Yoongi just chuckled as Hoseok whipped out his phone to leave a rather large complaint with the two idiots. He saw two unread messages from Taehyung and Jimin.

Dumb: Have fun, Hyung. Hehehe.

Dumber: Be safe!!!! ;) ;)

“I swear I am going to murder them.”

“You know, you could just stay here. I have an extra bedroom, I wouldn’t mind.” Hoseok shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

“Really, Hyung? Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t sure, Hoseok.” Well, it was either take him up on the offer or sleep in the hallway.

“Okay. Alright. Thanks, Hyung.” Hoseok walked to the other’s apartment, at this point, just wanting to sleep. He trudged in behind Yoongi, who also seemed to be crashing. The door shut behind them and Yoongi started walking toward what Hoseok assumed was his room.

“Last door on the right is the bathroom, second on the left is the guest room. You already know where the kitchen is. Make yourself at home, sleep well, Hoseok.”

“Sleep well, hyung, thank you again.”

“It’s really my pleasure.” and with that, the door clicked shut and Hoseok ambled down the hall to the guest bed to hopefully get some semblance of rest.

The morning came with a knock on the bedroom door and the wafting scent of bacon and syrup. He sat up and stretched, feeling more rested than he should have, given the previous night. He opened the door to find Yoongi looking positively adorable, still ruffled from sleep.

“There’s some pancakes and bacon in the kitchen if you want. I hope you like them, I didn’t know what else to fix.” He looked a little shy, a stark difference from the snarky, confident Yoongi from the night before.

“That’s perfect, Hyung, but you really didn’t have to make me breakfast too. Thank you.”

They talked pleasantly over breakfast and Hoseok even helped Yoongi wash and dry the dishes, even flicking bubbles at him a couple times before dissolving into giggles. It all seemed so…domestic. Hoseok felt a pang in his chest at the thought. It was something he always wanted, but the right person never seemed to come around. Every man or woman Hoseok had dated was just not the one. He had learned quickly not to get his hopes up, but with Yoongi, he couldn’t help it. Yes, he’d only known him for a week, but there was just something, they just clicked. He had no clue if Yoongi felt it too, and he didn’t want to fuck this up this soon.

“Seok? You okay?” he heard Yoongi asking. He looked up, slightly startled.

“Yeah…yeah, sorry just lost in my thoughts for a second.” Yoongi threw his head back a little, laughing at Hoseok.

“Yeah I could see that,” he said. As Yoongi turned to fully face Hoseok, Hoseok caught a glimpse of something glimmering on Yoongi’s face right under his eye. Fucking glitter. It never went away. Satan’s true curse on the world. He chuckled at his own musings, taking a step forward and raising a hand to gently swipe under his eye. He realized much too late that he was much too close than was appropriate and he held Yoongi’s face much longer than necessary. He couldn’t bring himself to care when Yoongi spoke.

“Seok…” he breathed.

Fuck it.

He moved forward slowly, giving Yoongi the chance to back away, but when he didn’t, Hoseok slotted their lips together in possibly the sweetest kiss either of them had ever had. He brought his other hand up to properly cradle Yoongi’s face, swiping his thumbs along his cheekbones. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead on Yoongi’s. They stared at each other for about six seconds before Yoongi spoke again.

“Fuck, Seok,” and he crashed their lips together again, any sweetness from before now long gone. Hoseok let his hands fall from Yoongi’s face to his waist and he pulled him closer, flush against his front. Yoongi groaned into Hoseok’s mouth before nipping at his bottom lip. Hoseok pulled away to kiss down Yoongi’s jaw and neck, backing up until his back was pressed to the counter. Yoongi put his hands on Hoseok’s arm and nudged at them a little until Hoseok got the hint and grabbed a handful of Yoongi’s ass. Yoongi’s hands flew to lock around Hoseok’s neck. Hoseok bit down on the spot right below Yoongi’s ear and Yoongi keened, pushing back into Hoseok’s hands. Hoseok squeezed a little before moving up to growl in Yoongi’s ear.

“I have wanted to touch this,” he said giving a tiny slap for emphasis, “since the first day I saw you in those sinful jeans.”

“So you were staring last night,” Yoongi said.

“Damn right.” He brought their mouths together again, wasting no time before swiping his tongue over Yoongi’s top lip. Yoongi opened up to him immediately, moaning low in his throat.

“God, Seok…” he choked, “bedroom, please…” Hoseok patted his thighs signaling for him to jump. He did and wrapped his legs around Hoseok’s waist, bringing their crotches together. They both let out a loud moan and he started walking them to Yoongi’s bedroom. He nudged the door open with his foot and walked to the bed, depositing Yoongi onto it before crawling up his body to mouth at a purple spot that was already forming at the base of his neck. Yoongi moved his hands up Hoseok’s back, catching the hem of the other’s shirt. “Off,” he said, tugging. Hoseok sat up and tugged the shirt over his head, Yoongi’s hands roaming his torso.

“You too, baby.” Yoongi let out a louder moan at that, surprising Hoseok.

“You like when I call you baby?” He asked, hands pulling Yoongi’s shirt above his head. Yoongi just whined a little and turned his head away from Hoseok, suddenly shy. “No need to be shy, baby. C’mere.” He pulled Yoongi up gently to kiss him again. As they kissed Yoongi finally let his hands wander lower over his body, finding lean muscle and dancer’s thighs. He moaned against Hoseok’s lips. He started to undo the buckle on the front of his pants.

“These off too. Now.” Yoongi was starting to get a little desperate. Hoseok was definitely taking his time.

“Okay, okay,” Hoseok chuckled, shucking his jeans, boxers with them. He kicked them off then ran his hands to Yoongi’s hips, coaxing them up off the bed so he could divest him of his pants and underwear as well. He crawled back up over Yoongi, kissing as much of his now exposed skin as he could.

“Wanna ride you, Seokie.” Hoseok choked when he heard that.

“God, baby. Okay, gotta get you ready first though. Don’t wanna hurt you.” Hoseok trailed down his body, nipping and sucking as he went. “Lube, baby, I need lube,” he murmured into the soft skin of his thighs.

“Over- god, Seok, over by the lamp.”

Hoseok retrieved the lube and came back to the bed, laying the bottle next to Yoongi’s legs. He pushed his legs up and kissed down them to the place where his thighs met his ass. Yoongi whined and his legs flailed a little, like they couldn’t decide whether they wanted to close around Hoseok’s head or fall open wider. He threw his head back into the pillows in surprise when he felt Hoseok’s tongue lick a wide strip over his now-exposed hole. Hoseok grabbed Yoongi’s hands and guided them to his hair. Yoongi grabbed strands and pulled experimentally and when Hoseok moaned low in his throat he pulled a little harder. Yoongi felt Hoseok prodding at his entrance before the muscles finally relaxed and Hoseok slipped his tongue inside. He cried out, tugging hard at the hair between his fingers. Hoseok hummed, sending vibrations up Yoongi’s body. He suddenly felt something cold and wet and realized that at some point Hoseok had nicked the lube from where it was sitting. He groaned loudly when Hoseok slipped a finger in beside his tongue. Hoseok fell into a rhythm that Yoongi felt would drive him insane. He whined, tugging on Hoseok’s hair and rocking back on his fingers. He took the hint and added a second finger, curling upwards to find the spot that would make Yoongi see fireworks. Yoongi was getting impatient, and Hoseok knew it. Hoseok went to add a third finger, but before he could, Yoongi pushed him back against the headboard and straddled his thighs, more confident than Hoseok had seen him all morning.

“I’m ready, Seok. Gonna ride you now.”

“Jesus…fuck. Okay, Yoongs. Condom?” He questioned.

“I’m clean, don’t want one,” he said, “If that’s okay.”

“‘m clean too, dammit get down here,” Hoseok replied, yanking Yoongi down to meet him.

“I…I like it when they come in me…” Yoongi whispered timidly against Hoseok’s mouth before lining himself up and sinking down on Hoseok’s length.

“Oh, fuck Yoongi, you can’t just say that, holy shit.” Yoongi just rocked his hips forward. Hoseok threw his head back in ecstasy, hands finding their way to grip Yoongi’s hips. Yoongi started to bounce on his lap, feeling Hoseok inside him in all the right places. Hoseok wasn’t especially thick, but he was long and curved and was hitting Yoongi’s prostate with every movement. Hoseok could tell that neither of them were going to last very long. With Yoongi making sinful noises and moving Hoseok couldn’t help himself and started meeting Yoongi thrust for thrust. The only sounds echoing through the apartment was the sound of skin on skin and their labored breathing. Hoseok moved one of his hands down to grope at Yoongi’s ass. He rocked himself back further on Hoseok’s cock. He mouthed at Hoseok’s jaw, mumbling into his skin.

“‘m gonna come, Seok.”

“Is that right, baby? You gonna come just from my cock? Can you do that, Yoongs?”

“Yeah- oh god, please Seokie.” Hoseok let his hand travel up to Yoongi’s hair and pulled. Yoongi whimpered and Hoseok leaned forward and mouthed over a nipple, catching his teeth on it and tugged lightly. That was all it took to send Yoongi over the edge and make him come onto his and Hoseok’s stomachs. Hoseok felt him tighten around him and all it took was a half dozen thrusts until he pushed as far into Yoongi as he could get and let go, filling him to the brim. He continued to thrust through his orgasm. Yoongi let out a soft moan, drawing Hoseok close to him, kissing him gently. When they both had come down, Hoseok softly lifted Yoongi off of him, both of them groaning, still sensitive. He rolled off the bed unceremoniously and dragged himself to the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean them both. He fell back into the bed and gingerly ran the cloth over Yoongi’s still heated skin. Yoongi whined and grabbed Hoseok, pulling him down to lay with him again. Hoseok faced him and wrapped his arms around him holding him like he was afraid he would disappear.

“Hey, Yoongi Hyung?”

“You just had your dick up my ass, don’t call me hyung,” He said, laughing and flicking Hoseok when he punched his arm lightly.

“Anyway,” Hoseok said glaring playfully at Yoongi, “You know that I really like you right?” he asked. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. So, would you maybe want to go to dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Like a date?” he replied.

“I just had my dick up your ass,” he mocked, “Yes, like a date. Duh.”

Yoongi just stared at Hoseok with mirth in his eyes until Hoseok started to look slightly terrified.

“Uh, I’m sorry if tha–” Yoongi cut him off, kissing him square on the mouth.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Hoseok,” Yoongi said, kissing Hoseok again, softer this time.

“I’m really glad I met you, Hoseok.”

“I’m really glad I met you too.”

Their moment was interrupted by Yoongi’s phone ringing. Hoseok groaned, but Yoongi didn’t move.

“You not gonna answer it? It’s probably your studio.”

“Eh, they can wait. I have something much better right here.”

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klaineanummel · 6 years

Text

Story of My Life 23/24

Kurt reflects on the past twelve years of his life, coming to realize that one man in particular has affected him far more than he ever thought he would

Welcome to the penultimate chapter! This one is written for the @klaineadvent prompt “Year”. I’m sure you all know what this chapter is, and let me tell you, it was so much fun to write. Though probably not as fun as the next chapter will be ;)

Thank you all so much for sticking around with me through this little story. I’m hoping to have the final chapter finished ASAP. There will also be a fun (well, hopefully you’ll think it’s fun!) announcement coming with the next chapter! (Though if you head to AO3 you may get a hint of what it is that the announcement will be hehe)

I hope you all enjoy! Minor warning for angst, but I mean, when isn’t there angst in this fic :P

Read on AO3

December 4th-5th, 2023

It’s 3AM when Kurt is woken up by the sound of his phone ringing incessantly in his ear. He groans, hand pawing around his nightstand aimlessly, trying to locate the source of his disturbance.

He finally finds it, and cracks an eye open, frowning when he sees Blaine’s face on the caller display.

He hits the green answer button, and brings the phone up to his ear. “Blaine?”

“Kurt!” Blaine practically shouts in greeting, and Kurt pulls the phone away from his ear at the sudden noise. “Good, you’re awake, I need to speak to you immediately.”

Kurt frowns, sitting up in bed. “Blaine, it’s 3AM.” He leans over and flicks the lamp on his nightstand on.

“Yes, it is, but I have to speak to you right now, this instant, because it’s very important.”

Oh, okay, Blaine is rambling. Kurt knows what’s going on here. “Blaine, are you drunk? Do you need me to come get you?”

“No!” Blaine shouts again, though this time it’s harsher.

“No, you’re not drunk, or no, you don’t want me to come get you?”

“No, don’t get me. I don’t need you to come get me, Kurt, because guess what? Come on, take a guess.”

“You already called an Uber?” Kurt asks hopefully, really not liking the turn this conversation is taking.

Blaine makes a noise like a buzzer, and seriously, he must be absolutely tanked. “Incorrect. Do not pass go, do not collect $200.”

“Blaine, seriously, you’re freaking me out. Is everything okay?”

“Everything is great, Kurt, it’s fantastic. You know why?” Kurt can hear him taking a deep breath through the phone. “Because I am over you.”

Kurt’s heart stops in his chest. “What?”

“Oh, yeah. I am donezo. Totally and completely over you. Goodbye feelings, forever.”

“Wait, Blaine, slow down,” Kurt says, holding the phone closer to his ear. Why is his heart beating so damn fast, why is his hand so damn sweaty, what the hell is going on with him?

“I’ve been slowing down, Kurt. I’ve slowed down my entire life because of you. Did you know that Trent dumped me because of you?”

Kurt’s throat dries. “Blaine…”

“Well, he did. He said he was tired of always playing second fiddle, that even if you weren’t around you were always around because I couldn’t get you out of my head. He told me I was being selfish in even dating him in the first place, when I clearly had no room in my heart for anyone else. And you know the worst part?”

“Blaine, please, you’re drunk.”

“The worst part is he was right. I was being selfish, in dating him, in dating anybody, really, when all I’ve ever wanted was to be with you. But not any more, because I am done.”

“Okay, Blaine, where are you, I’m coming to get you,” he swings his legs off the bed.

“I don’t need you to, Kurt, don’t you get it? I have other friends who can come get me. I don’t need you.”

“Blaine, I really think we should have this conversation when you’re sober.”

“Oh, too late, we’re having it now.” Kurt’s stomach tightens, and god, what is this feelings in his goddamn chest, why does this hurt so much? “Hey, wanna know another fun tidbit? I haven’t dated at all since Trent and I broke up. That’s been really fun, you know. Watching you go on blind dates and have one-night stands, while I try and get my shit together and finally get over you.”

“I haven’t—”

“We have the same damn friends, Kurt, and I don’t know if you know this, but Tina likes to talk.”

“Shit,” Kurt sits still, legs dangling over the edge of his bed. “Blaine, look—”

“No, you look, Kurt. I’m done with this. I’m over you. I am so, so over you. It took me eleven fucking years, but I’m finally done. So go have fun with whatever guy you’re currently dating, or fucking, or whatever the hell you do in your spare time that isn’t date me, because I’m through with you.”

“Blaine, please, can we talk about this in the morning?”

“Why bother? I’ve said all I needed to say.” And just like that, the line goes dead, and the conversation is over.

Kurt stares down at his phone in his hands for what feels like an infinity. God, his chest is still aching, his heart is pulsing, he feels terrible, why does he feel so damn –?

His head shoots up, staring at his wall in wide-eyed horror.

Oh, no.

Oh, shit.

“No,” he tells himself quietly. “You’re being stupid.”

Still, he can’t make himself crawl back under the covers, and his phone is clenched so tightly in his hand he’s a little afraid it might break.

He licks his lips, one single thought running through his head over and over again.

I don’t want Blaine to be over me.

His breathing speeds up as the thought swirls around his mind. The stupid, illogical thought. Because that’s what it is, right? It’s stupid and illogical and makes no sense. All he’s ever wanted was for Blaine to be over him. The few times that he thought he was, he’s been genuinely relieved. All he wants is for them to continue their friendship.

Does Blaine even still want them to be friends? The way he’d said that he was done with Kurt sounded so final…

“Christ,” he mumbles. This must be some form of late-in-life narcissism manifesting. How the hell is he this upset over Blaine telling him that he’s over him? This is good. It’s good.

He swallows thickly. It’s good, right?

He shouldn’t even have to ask himself that question.

He looks down at his phone, thinking on it for a moment, then presses Blaine’s name in his recent calls. And wow, he hadn’t even realized how often he and Blaine talk on the phone. He’s got two calls from Blaine and three outgoing from just the past few days.

He puts the phone up to his ear, frowning when it goes directly to voicemail. When the beep sounds, he quickly says, “Blaine, please call me when you get this. I don’t…” he sighs heavily, then takes a deep breath and says, “I just want to make sure that you got home okay. Call me, please?”

He finishes the call and sets his phone on his lap, going back to staring at the wall.

This has to be some sort of narcissistic crisis. All his life Blaine has loved him, and he’s grown too accustomed to the knowledge. Besides, he can’t deny that lately it has brought a little warmth to his stomach to think of somebody as gorgeous and kind as Blaine liking him.

Shit, he’s been thinking about Blaine as ‘gorgeous’ way too much. He groans, falling back onto his mattress. He blames Mercedes. She’s the one who put the stupid idea into his head that Blaine was an adult, and that it was okay to leer at his friend, and his fantastic ass, and his beautiful eyes, and his soft-looking, kissable lips…

He shuts his eyes tightly. Why is he thinking about Blaine’s lips now? Why is he thinking about that New Year’s Eve so long ago, when Blaine kissed him? He’d been such a good kisser, even if the kiss was short. And god, the way his cheeks went so red when he very loudly informed Kurt that he’d been fucked…

He’s definitely having some sort of crisis. God, where are all these thoughts coming from? It’s like some kind of damn has burst inside of Kurt, and suddenly all he can see is Blaine, Blaine, Blaine. Blaine kissing him on New Year’s, dancing with Blaine at Tina and Quinn’s wedding, Blaine holding him when he broke up with Cody, Blaine smiling up at him, Blaine calling him late at night just to talk, Blaine…

He exhales sharply and, very purposefully, stares up at the ceiling and says, “I do not have feelings for Blaine.”

Because he doesn’t. He can’t. If he had feelings for Blaine, he would have noticed before, right? He sees him almost every goddamn day, especially now with all the preparations for Cooper’s wedding. He’s known him for eleven fucking years. He would have noticed before if he had feelings for Blaine, right?

He closes his eyes and repeats, softer this time, “I do not have feelings for Blaine.”

He groans as his heart throbs, Blaine’s voice telling him that he’s so, so over him flashing through his mind. He turns over so that he’s lying face-forward on his bed, burying his face in his comforter.

“I do not have feelings for Blaine,” he mumbles into his blanket.

He wonders just how many times he’ll have to tell himself that before he actually begins to believe it.

When he wakes up in the morning, it isn’t to the sound of his alarm, or even to the uncomfortable crick in his neck from falling asleep without a pillow. It’s to the sound of his doorbell ringing. Once, then twice, then three times.

He groans, sitting up, legs already halfway off the side of his bed. He rubs at his neck, which does indeed hurt a bit, and then heads toward his front door as the bell rings a fourth time.

There’s a knock as he approaches, and he hears Blaine’s voice saying, “Kurt, I know you’re there. Please, open the door.”

His heart skips a beat, and he shuts his eyes for a moment, trying to gain control of his breathing.

It’s just Blaine. Blaine, who he’s known forever. Blaine who is gorgeous and amazing and the best person Kurt has ever met.

Blaine who is so, so over him.

He shakes his head at his own train of thought and carefully unlocks the three locks on his door.

When he swings the door open, he is met with a completely unkempt looking Blaine. He’s wearing his glasses instead of the usual contacts he dons, and his hair isn’t even gelled. His staring up at Kurt from behind red-rimmed eyes, and holding a cup of coffee in a shaking hand.

He’s the most beautiful thing Kurt has ever seen.

“Oh, thank god,” Blaine says, instantly throwing himself on Kurt. Kurt is shocked, but allows Blaine to wrap him up in a tight hug, wondering if he’s ever been this aware of how tight and compact Blaine’s body is. “I thought you wouldn’t open the door. I thought you hated me.”

Kurt swallows around the lump in his throat, and gently pries himself out of Blaine’s hold. “I could never hate you, Blaine,” he says softly, feeling the full weight of the words on his tongue.

God, he is so, so fucked.

“I’m so goddamn sorry, Kurt,” Blaine says, tears welling in his eyes. “I never should have called you last night. I was drunk, obviously, and my friends were riling me up, and I—well, it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have called you, and I definitely shouldn’t have said any of those things to you while I was drunk out of my mind. I’m so, so sorry.”

I’m so, so over you.

“Blaine, it’s okay. We all do stupid things when we get drunk.”

“Yeah, but this was… god.” Blaine shakes his head and takes a sip of his coffee. “I don’t even know what came over me. My friends were just egging me on, and suddenly telling you that I was over you was the most important thing in the world.”

Kurt’s jaw sets, and he fights not to show how deeply it cuts him to hear those words. “So, you are, then? Over me? That wasn’t just drunken rambling?”

Blaine stares up at him for a moment, licking his lips absently. He then gives one short nod. “But I never should have said it like that, or maybe even at all. God, I don’t even remember everything I said to you, but the things I do…” he looks up at Kurt from under his eyelashes, and it just makes his stupid gorgeous eyes sparkle even more. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t blame you if you actually did hate me.”

“I told you, Blaine, I could never hate you. Hey,” he puts his hand on Blaine’s shoulder when the younger man looks away. “I’m serious. I could never, never hate you.”

Blaine meets his gaze again, eyes filling with tears once more. He nods quickly, then hurries into Kurt’s arms again. This time, Kurt is quick to return the hug, wondering how it took him so long to realize that Blaine fits absolutely perfectly in his arms and against his body.

“Things will be better from now on,” Blaine whispers. “I promise, Kurt. Things won’t be weird anymore. Things will be so much better.”

“Yeah,” Kurt whispers, heart pounding in his cheat, blood roaring in his ears. His hands shake as they hold tight to each other at Blaine’s lower back.

If he couldn’t convince himself last night, then right now, he knows he’s lost. Seeing Blaine, holding him, has just confirmed the truth. Kurt doesn’t want Blaine to be over him because of a narcissistic crisis. Kurt doesn’t want Blaine to be over him because he likes Blaine. It’s like he’s seeing Blaine, holding him for the first time, and yet somehow it feels exactly as wonderful as it always has.

He tucks his head into the crook of Blaine’s neck, the smell of his warm, musky cologne filling his nostrils. He sighs, figuring that this is it. This is his punishment for all those years of ignoring Blaine. Now, he has to feel the pain of unrequited love, and from the man who spent eleven years in love with him, no less.

Not anymore, though. Blaine is over him, clearly meant it despite the alcohol in his system the previous night. Exactly when Kurt realizes that he has feelings for Blaine.

“So much better,” he whispers, pulling Blaine tighter against his body.

Part Twenty-Four: Zone

#klaine advent 2017 #klaine advent: year #klaine au #klaine fic #klaineanummel fic #multi chapter #fic: soml

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