#it’s the summer and I just want to another little sneak peek

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Driving Me Crazy pt 2 - LN

Summary: Lando ends up going to an illegal drag race and finds himself falling for the illegal racer, but does she feel the same and even if she does, is she willing to risk the exposure?

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Y/n and Lando spent the whole night talking, which admittedly did nothing to help with Lando trying to adjust to the time difference but he could listen to y/n for hours.

"You invited her to the Quadrant shoot?" Max questions making Lando grin at his friend. "Wow...you realise you're not going to be in Australia for long. She's not going to be a long term-"

"Don't ruin it mate." Lando cuts in not wanting to hear about it. He's happy and for now that's all he wants to concern himself about.

Y/n appears looking more more dressed up compared to her previous outfits he'd see her in. A light summer dress adorns her body, which given the sun and heat of the day, really makes sense.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. I might drive and live around here but I have a terrible sense of direction. Took a wrong turn." Y/n smiles brightly while Lando smiles and moves towards her.

"No problem. We haven't even started filming yet." Lando smiles while Max just smiles in amusement at his friends behaviour. "We got Keegan Palmer, don't know if you know him he's-"

"An Olympic skateboarder. Gold medal winner if I remember correctly?" Y/n nods proving her knowledge of stuff is not lacking in the slightest. "But what does skateboarding have to do with you?"

That sets both Max and Lando off into an explanation of Quadrant and how the idea to expand beyond the initial idea of Quadrant by creating a team of athletes, who obviously already have a reputation within their sport, and to aid them, promote them and help the world become aware of them.

"Aww...it's actually cute to see you both so passionate about this. It also sounds really cool. Actually the whole of Quadrant sounds cool." Y/n smiles then tilting her head.

"It's too bad we couldn't get you to join the team." Max smiles making her raise her eyebrows at the sheer suggestion.

"Oh god, I'd be damning to the brand. An illegal street racer? I'd definitely not be doing myself or you guys many favours." Y/n laughs shaking her head.

"You could be part of the video and we could not mention your sport." Lando suggests looking at Max who isn't actually sure that'd be the most brilliant idea but he's not going to say that when she's right here. "We don't even need to mention you, you could just be in the montage kind of clips."

"That's really sweet but I'm happy to be an audience. No need for anything more." Y/n states since even she knows when a line has been crossed.

Her line of work comes with risks, legal risks and even though she might be known by quite a few within Melbourne, as proven when Keegan appears and recognises her, but if she gets caught street racing she can be charged. Not to mention her slightly dodgy history with paying taxes, or lack there of. A perk of being paid in cash and paying for everything in cash. There's basically no trace.

Lando does manage to get y/n on a skateboard and even in the little car they got for content. She appears in a lot of footage even in the background.

-

Turns out the sneak peek clips and a certain post from Keegan praising y/n with a caption on his post of "the ones who know, know".

A lot of the Melbourne fans in his comments proved that they know exactly who y/n is.

"Oh lord." Y/n groans when Lando shows her a comment on Keegan's post that says "I just know those boys are (s)creaming over y/n and I would be too".

It also helps that most of the people at the Quadrant shoot have now followed y/n. Some are even suggesting Keegan soft-launched with y/n.

Lando hasn't commented but he was a little annoyed of that specific assumption which is how he ended up inviting her for golf ahead of another street race she's taking part in tonight.

"So how often do you do them?" Max asks as they stand playing golf. Somehow having talked her into modelling the new merch for them.

"Ehh...it varies. Luckily F1 serves as a really good distraction for the police so we can get away with more. Usually do a bunch at once, burn out the car." Y/n explains then earning a hum from the man. "It's really fun. But I mean I've made a fair amount, invested it and managed to get by just fine."

"How much have you made?" Lando questions, never being able to stifle his curiosity.

"Uhh....I mean I don't keep a record. I'd say in the 5 years, somewhere near the 500k mark, that's in cash. Not counting how much I've made from investments or some other business ventures." Y/n states making the two men exchange a look. "And by that I mean fixing up some other cars. Helping some other street racers...that type of thing."

As they actually play golf it becomes obvious that y/n is one of those people who can sort of pick something up and be perfect at it. Well almost, but Max would say she's not far off Lando's much more practiced abilities.

Certainly not an amateur.

"Are you lying? Have you played golf before?" Lando questions making her look at him with a shrug.

"I mean I've played mini golf more than actual golf. I suppose maybe in my life time I've played golf like this 5 or 6 times. My dad used to play when he'd had business meetings with the more...higher up people and sometimes he wanted to practice so he'd bring my brother and I along."

"So where is your family, in Melbourne too?"

"Ehh...no, my parents still live out in New Zealand. My brother is over in Sydney with his girlfriend but last time I spoke to them they were considering a move to Perth or Adelaide depending on the job opportunities and costs to live there. The family beyond that are all still in England."

It becomes more and more apparently to Max throughout the shoot that Lando is looking at her with a type of expression which is much more than just a friendly smile. He's infatuated with this woman and he's got less than 2 weeks that he's here.

Someone has to remind Lando just how far Australia is from the rest of his life because it's definitely slipping his mind.

-

Attending another street race, Aaron and Tyler at there again more than happy to be welcoming Max and Lando with them.

Lando has his camera with him this time and he's determined to capture a lot of the night on camera, just for the memories.

"Boys, you came back for more?" Aaron grins greeting them both with a hug then pointing at Lando. "She is excited for you to be here. If you seduce her, know she has a lot of unofficial big brothers who don't stand for her being sad."

"That's not what I want to let happen." Lando states earning a nod before he spots a blurred figure and manages to move to catch her just in time for her to bump into him. "Hey, speak of the devil."

"And she will appear." Y/n grins before she looks at him brightly. "Come on."

Max sticks with Aaron and Tyler and all three exchange a look between themselves over the way that Lando and y/n are clearly growing very close.

"When does he leave for the next race?" Tyler asks absently making Max sigh.

"Japan weekend starts with media on the 4th, he'll probably leave a few days after Melbourne is done." Max states trying not to look nervous over the idea of what might happen following that.

"Crazy how much they travel man." Tyler comments shaking his head.

Eventually Lando returns and Aaron takes off to help get y/n ready since apparently she only trusts him to make sure she's safely strapped into the car with no risk of flying out.

"Hey man. They've asked if you'd drop the cloth for the go. I think they were going to offer for Lando to do it but he's too famous a face." Tyler smiles after some girl came over and whispered in his ear before he turns to look at Max. "You don't have to, they figured they'd offer."

"Go on man." Lando grins pushing Max forward.

Lando knows that Max will shit a brick standing between two cars and coming very close to being ran down by them. But he does as he was instructed and the cars rev as he lifts the white cloth and as soon as it drops the cars zoom past him, the rush of air actually making him swap a little before he manages to rush over to y/n.

"Bruh, I think I shit a brick." Max states rushing over to Lando who had been capturing the moments on his camera.

While Lando is caught up in talking to Max when they hear the crunching smashing sound as the ground shakes underneath them and someone screams.

"Crash!" Another voice hollers as one of the cars continues screeching up and drifting to a stop.

Lando hates how much relief he feels seeing it wasn't y/n who crashed.

"He's upside, he just flipped on the turn." Y/n breathes being yanked out before Aaron and a few others load into the car. Possibly the illegal version of a medical team, or the closest thing they have on hand to a medical team.

"Police!"

"Shit." Y/n gasps immediately moving towards Lando and Max, grabbing their hands and yanking them to her Bronco before all but throwing them in.

"We can't get arrested, y/n." Lando states making her look at him.

"It's going to be fine." Y/n promises moving before they're properly buckled in but they moving, or better described as flying. Lando didn't even know a Bronco this old could go so fast. "Don't worry, you're in good hands."

The sirens aren't going after them so presumably, they are tending to the other driver and probably arresting those who weren't so quick to scatter.

But Lando's adrenaline rush from y/n's maniacal driving is enough for him to only feel safe once he's scrambled out of the car when they pull into her drive.

"What the hell." Lando pants making her grin at him.

"Don't worry. Everything is fine. It happens all the time. Come on, we'll get you guys something to eat." Y/n smiles brightly leaving the two to follow her in.

"Wild card man. The wildest card you could've ever found." Max states shaking his head atet young man as they follow her inside.

"She's a lot of fun though." Lando smiles before they walk up into her house.

They actually end up having a little bonfire in her back garden before some of the others from the race show up.

"Your winnings, your majesty." Aaron states tossing the duffle bag into y/n's lap where she's seated on Lando's lap. "Glad you got the two famous faces out of there. Rory was fine by the way, his car not so much but he was all good."

"Don't you two look cosy." Tyler smirks while perching himself on Aaron's lap, only to be ruthlessly tossed onto the floor. "Why don't you cherish me?"

"Because lard ass, you're annoying." Aaron laughs earning a dramatic cry before he climbs up and sits on another seat.

"Here, Ty. You get to be in charge of roasting marshmallows." Y/n smiles giggling as she hands him the large bag of marshmallows. "Aaron, be nice or you know he won't give you any. I'll be right back."

"Get go stash your cash." Aaron chuckles leaning back in his seat.

"How much did she make tonight?" One of the others who Lando doesn't actually know the name of since they arrived with the boys but haven't been introduced officially.

"That creepy guy who keeps wanting to take her out the game paid her a very nice amount."

"Someone wants to pay her out of racing?" Lando frowns making the group turn but Aaron gestures for Lando to calm down before he thinks too far into it.

"There's this guy from your kind of official racing game. Wants her in proper racing but for some reason she won't give to anyone, she keeps saying no. He's showed up twice every year for about 3 years. Hands over a lot of money every year to tempts her into signing up. This year he's paid out triple what she was already going to make."

"And she won't tell anyone why-"

"It's because of the rules." Y/n cuts in, reappearing and not looking all that impressed. "I don't like the limitation and the rules and the official governing bodies interfering with how I work."

"I feel like we should've guessed that." Tyler hums earning grumbles of agreement from the rest of the group. "A marshmallow for you, baby girl."

"Thank you, Ty." She smiles sitting down beside him. "I told Gareth the same thing every year and he still shows up saying teams know about me, they've seen videos and know my speed and want me on their teams. I just don't care, plus he lines my pockets good when he shows up."

"So you're a rogue who enjoys breaking the law." Aaron summarises then placing his hand over his chest. "Your parents must be so proud. I know I am."

"Taught me everything I know." Y/n grins unapologetic before she shifts to sit still on the ground but between Lando's legs, leaning her cheek to rest on his knee.

Meanwhile Max is sat watching his best friend fall in love, the look in Lando's eyes is just sheer adoration for the girl on the floor in front of him.

And he can't help but feel like it's going to come to a big and abrupt end. One that might break Lando's heart just as much as y/n's.

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03 @harrysdimple05 @mellowarcadefun @cixrosie @scopeiguess @a-beaverhausen @prudyhoo @kapsylia

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[wntrs0ldier]

An Offer · part 06

pairing: mob!bucky x reader words: 4,1k warnings: typical mafia (dark themes, language, violence, etc.)

<previous part | series masterlist

series summary: When your father dies, the only thing you can do for your family and the empire he built, is to marry a powerful man.

chapter sneak peek: You turned your head in that direction. Seeing him, you felt a knot in your stomach, and your heart in your mouth. A strong shudder ran through your body, sending that familiar electricity right to your fingertips. By avoiding him for so long, you had built a wall that was supposed to make you immune to the feelings he evoked in you. But all it took was one look to tear it down. 

As Bucky was coming towards you, you considered running away, but your body – craving his attention, longing for his presence – stuck in place, refusing to obey you.

A single buzz of the phone distracted you from the document you were reading through. Thrown out of the work rhythm that had been driving you for the past few hours, you instinctively ran your eyes over the desk, pretty much buried in papers, meanwhile figuring out that the phone was hidden somewhere underneath. So you started collecting all the documents, putting them in neat piles to eventually find it.

It felt good to be working like that again. Finally, after a few weeks since your father's death, filled with overwhelming responsibilities and things a little too heavy for your shoulders, your mind was in the right place; stable enough to catch up on paperwork.

You grabbed your phone and tapped the screen to check the latest notification, expecting a message from Suzie reminding you to buy her promised snacks on the way home. But it wasn’t your sister. You froze when the sender of the text turned out to be Bucky.

You still have my sweatshirt. I want it back.

You hoped he had let go after weeks of being ignored. Right at the start – on the very evening John showed up at your house – you wrote Bucky a succinct message saying that you couldn't see each other anymore. This was to be the definitive end; you didn't reply to his texts, didn't answer his calls. You realized that otherwise you would be drawn to him again, therefore throwing away your only chance for a marriage. 

The phone in your hands buzzed again.

I don’t want it back. I want to see you. 

An unpleasant warmth went through your body. You put the phone back on the desk, then stood up; mostly to stretch your bones, stiff from sitting, partly to fight the urge to speak to him. With the phone still in your hands, you could have undone the hard work of recent weeks – weaning yourself from the presence of the one person who had always been on your side.

You walked up to the window where, just a while ago, you were thinking about your life, your past; about who Bucky actually was to you, and why your paths never crossed. But they finally did – at the moment when you most needed guidance, understanding, a friend. And now you missed him. You missed Bucky endlessly since the last time you saw each other. You missed him the way you missed the first rays of bright, warm sunshine after a harsh winter; the way you missed the cool, refreshing rain during a stuffy summer; the way you missed a favorite flavor that you never recreated again; the way you missed the childhood years of innocent carefreeness. Because he was just that to you – some lost, longed-for sensation that was beyond your reach.

And all this for what? A successful marriage to John? A peaceful, secure future?

In fact, everything seemed perfect. John was good to you – he didn't drop distasteful hints, didn't ogle you, didn't put any pressure. He regularly took you to one fancy restaurant after another, and kept trying to find out as much as he could about you. He even turned up at the exhibition in your gallery. From the outside it seemed like he was there to support you, to keep you company. However, the truth was that John was controlling you; just as Michael said. What's more, he lavished you with gifts, usually expensive jewellery that was rarely to your taste. You weren't ungrateful, but you got the impression that John was only giving you what he himself wanted to see on you, not what actually suited you.

But there was something that worried Michael in particular. John had expressed a willingness to make a deal, in addition it looked like he was courting you full steam ahead, but he hadn't asked you to marry him yet. So, at any time, he could have simply backed out, leaving you in the lurch – he had you in the palm of his hand and was taking advantage of this by testing your loyalty and, somehow, obedience. Knowing that any contact with Bucky would cost you dearly, you couldn't afford even a moment's weakness.

Hearing a quiet knock on the door of your office, you felt another wave of that unpleasant warmth. You looked back hesitantly and were instantly relieved seeing the familiar face of your friend, Connie.

“Are you okay?” She furrowed. “You look… bad.”

You smiled, as if that would dissuade your friend from worrying. “Just a little tired.” You stretched sleepily to emphasize your words. 

“No wonder. You've been working a lot lately,” Connie pointed out, sitting down on a chair in front of her desk. “You're hard to get to.” She raised her eyebrows, tilting her head to the side as if she had just caught you at something. Connie was one of your closest friends, and although she wasn't directly connected to your world – unless it was through you – you mentioned your problem to her; one that had been dragging on since your father's funeral.

“And how's your new job?” To distract Connie, you slightly changed the subject. You walked over to the desk and took a seat too. 

“It is not that bad. If I get promoted from making coffee and washing cups to actual finances. But it's only an internship, so I might as well keep making coffee until the end.” She rolled her eyes and your smile widened; perhaps Connie was complaining about her duties and you sympathized that she had to do something she didn't like, but it was nice to hear about such mundane problems. You would have liked to be making coffee for bankers and financiers instead of having to marry to save your family from ruin. “Actually…” she began innocently. “I just have one tiny favor to ask you. I swear I came mostly to see if you were okay, but-”

“I know, Connie,” you interrupted. “What’s the favor?”

“Go out with me this weekend. Have some fun, stop thinking about work and… you know, the other thing.”

Turning down such proposals was not in your habit. Moreover, suffocated by visits to expensive, uptight restaurants, which left you hungry and a little bored, you missed this kind of entertainment. Besides, lately you've only been hanging around older men, who always had a full range of golden advice and ideal offers for you. You craved loud music, dancing among strangers and, above all, alcohol – it didn't have to be expensive, the kind John would provide; you just wanted it to take the weight off your thoughts, at least for a while. You needed a break.

“Okay,” you said after a moment of reflection. 

Connie's face lit up with a bright, excited grin. “Okay?” she made sure, and when you nodded in surrender, she reached over the desk, put her hands around your cheeks and placed a big kiss on your forehead, and you – put in a light, somewhat carefree mood by your friend – laughed. You both did.

The weekend arrived much slower as you waited for the fun you craved. You had completely absorbed the idea that you would be spending Saturday night at some club, and there was nothing to stop you doing so. Not even John. As you sat in Connie's flat, in your robe, sipping a margarita, waiting for the polish on your nails to dry, he called you with a proposition for another date. 

“Johnny…” Despite the heavy sigh that left your lips, you tried to make your voice sound as sweet as possible; even if you wanted to set any boundaries, John had the upper hand, so you couldn't behave audaciously – you couldn't be cold and assertive, you had to wrap him around your finger. “I can't see you. I would love to, but I've been neglecting my girlfriends lately. I need to spend some time with them.”

“But in a club?” he reluctantly repeated the information you gave him at the very beginning. “Maybe I could go with you?” 

You nearly choked on your drink. A red light flashed in your head; John Walker was about to enter a phase that would put an end to you going out on your own. And you couldn't let that happen. At least not until he had made his final decision in terms of marriage. You needed that wedding, and in order to achieve it you were prepared to do a lot, at the same time you couldn't let John trample you like that. He said himself that he had always wanted you – so he had to realize that he could easily lose you. You couldn't be the only one who was fearing about this 'relationship'.

“Johnny,” you echoed his name, but this time you almost said it between clenched teeth with a kind of determination and slight irritation. You plastered a smile on your face to sound at least a little softer. “You are really sweet. But I need time with my friends. It will be something like my bachelorette party.” The words you used were intentional; you wanted to give him the idea that he should finally make up his mind and officially ask you to marry him. It wasn't your dream, but you had to protect yourself; you had to stop letting him lead you around by the nose, taking advantage of your dates.

“You're right. But you have to promise me that we'll spend all Sunday together. Tomorrow you will be just for me and no one else.”

The dates with John were not a disaster largely because they usually lasted a few hours. Spending a whole day with him was different. And if you reacted this way to this prospect – with discouraged silence – what about spending the rest of your life with John? You've probably never seen it in this light before, and it suddenly made you sick.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said hurriedly. “Yes, of course, we will spend the whole Sunday together.”

“Perfect. See you then?”

“See you then.”

You tossed your phone to the other end of the couch. Connie appeared in the living room, although technically she had been there the whole time due to the living room being connected to the kitchen. She looked at you with concern, put down the margarita pitcher she had brought, and sat beside you.

“He's not that bad,” you claimed. 

“Yeah, sure.”

You squinted, staring blankly at a random point in front of you. “But…”

Under the influence of margarita, you wanted to make some philosophical speech about how your end was near; how it was creeping up on you, crawling under your skin. You were sure of the end of your freedom, as future husbands tend to joke about, but you hated these jokes. Eventually you said nothing, occupying your head with ways to help you unwind; to somehow honor the potentially last opportunity for you to go out like this; without your controlling soon-to-be husband. 

Having shaken your head to get rid of some unnecessary thoughts, you glanced at Connie, smiling at her tenderly. “Would you be so kind and lend me the shortest dress you have?”

Although you weren't in the mood for men's company, the decision about the dress resulted in exactly what you thought it would. It was short enough that you didn't dare bend down, but its length and tightness actually played only a partial role in making you attract attention. You oozed a sort of mysterious, appealing aura of being open to innocent propositions you might have refused; eager for an adventure you might not have taken part in. Men followed you with their eyes, and it looked as if they were prepared to get burnt, to be rejected only if that meant they could get close to you, to exchange a few words, to have the opportunity to be noticed by you.

Perhaps it was the irritation, the cooling anger at John and the exhaustion of your living situation that made you attract people the way flame attracts moths? Perhaps your true nature – the one your mother tried to nip – has been bubbling to the surface through some small cracks, caused by your recent bending to the will imposed from everywhere? Or was it simply the result of a couple margaritas consumed before going out?

You didn't know, and you didn't particularly care. 

From the moment you arrived at the club – the kind of club you had in mind; with colorful but not aggressive lights, affordable alcohol and good music; on this night, hits from the early 2000s prevailed – you and Connie basically didn't leave the dance floor. Not including short breaks for drinks at the bar or going to the toilet. For the first time in a long time, you felt your age – carefree, almost irresponsible; you were having fun.

Time seemed to flow a little differently, so you didn't know exactly how much of it had passed, but Connie and you were starting to get sore feet. You knew that choosing some flat shoes would be a wise move, but high heels made your legs look even better than usual. There was no room for reason that night.

Connie disappeared somewhere, having promised earlier to get you some seats. You didn't want to return to the dance floor alone, besides, you needed to catch your breath. You ordered something exceptionally non-alcoholic at the bar – orange juice with ice – and decided to wait for your friend there. Resting your elbows on the slightly sticky counter, thereby trying to transfer your body weight from your sore legs, you sipped your juice. 

The bartender unexpectedly slipped you a pink drink in a wine glass. “From that guy.” She nodded to the other end of the counter. 

You turned your head in that direction. Seeing him, you felt a knot in your stomach, and your heart in your mouth. A strong shudder ran through your body, sending that familiar electricity right to your fingertips. By avoiding him for so long, you had built a wall that was supposed to make you immune to the feelings he evoked in you. But all it took was one look to tear it down. 

As Bucky was coming towards you, you considered running away, but your body – craving his attention, longing for his presence – stuck in place, refusing to obey you.

He stood next to you, his hand resting on the surface of the counter, his fingers almost reaching your elbow. You looked at his face; to your disadvantage, he was as beautiful as ever, his plump lips were wet, giving them the impression of being even more luscious; his eyes seemed fatigued as he watched you with calm and benevolence.

“Aren't you going to ask what I’m doing here?” He spoke, and from the way he articulated the words you were able to tell that he was a little drunk. “If I'm following you..?” 

“No, I'm not going to ask that. I’m not going to ask about anything, actually, because I shouldn't be talking to you at all.”

Bucky smiled, but there was not a bit of warmth in that smile. “So you're marrying him…” He nodded slowly, running his tongue over his teeth. “Did he tell you to stay away from me or what?” 

Closing your eyes, you let out a heavy sigh. “I want this marriage to work, Bucky.” You looked him straight in the eye. “And it won’t work with you there. I wish I could keep what we have, I wish I could keep you, I swear, but I can’t. I need you to understand that. Please.” 

At first he stared at you without a word, anger crept onto his face. “So that’s it? I lose you, you get your perfect little husband?”

You pursed your lips; no matter what, you didn’t expect to hear something like this from Bucky, yet you deserved it; you should’ve had a normal conversation with him. And now you were too tired, too defeated already, to fight. “Yeah, that’s it,” you said briefly. “Friendship isn't meant for us. Thanks for the drink,” you added, trying to take the least emotional approach possible, but in reality you could feel your heart breaking. 

Bucky looked like he was slowly being consumed by panic. But there was nothing you could do about it. You grabbed the glass filled with alcohol he'd bought for you and moved away from the bar. Anywhere, as long as it's far away from him.

By the kindness of one man (or, rather, innocent flirtation), Connie got the seats in the VIP box. The man shared it with a friend who introduced himself as Reggie, Ricky or Randy; you couldn't recall the correct version. You didn't focus on his name; nor did you pay particular attention to what he was saying. All you knew was that he called you pretty, and was buying you drinks, which you accepted cautiously.

Things stopped going as you had hoped. This was supposed to be your night without men, yet you were just letting one hit on you. You were supposed to have fun, yet you felt heartbroken by the situation with Bucky. Since when did everything start revolving around him? Since when did your mood depend on what was going on between the two of you? Did your first meeting unlock some mechanism that you were both doomed to, or did you just get so attached to him over the course of a couple weeks?

When Reggie/Ricky/Randy's hand resting on your thigh began to go higher and higher, your thoughts crashed against all these questions like rough waves. It didn't bother you, what he was doing. And since it didn't bother you, you decided not to spoil his fun. Your thoughts wandered so far and wide that you barely noticed the moment he kissed you. His hot, alcohol-breathing lips pressed onto yours, and you were basically indifferent to that too. Maybe not so indifferent, because you found something pleasurable in it; your relationship with John lacked the flame, the immediate desire. And Reggie/Ricky/Randy had that boyish charm mixed with the possessiveness of a grown man; a combination that appealed to you very much. Besides, your future wasn't in his hands, and not being at Reggie/Ricky/Randy's mercy turned you on even more.

And suddenly he was gone.

Reggie/Ricky/Randy ended up on the floor. You lifted up your eyes from the drunken man, unable to get up from the ground, and saw Bucky. Again. With clenched jaw and heavy breathing, he watched Reggie/Ricky/Randy laying between you. However, he was harmless enough to quickly lose Bucky's interest, so he grabbed your wrist and forced you to stand up, then follow him. 

“Bucky!” you groaned. You were afraid that Bucky was capable of dragging you behind him if the situation called for it. “You're walking too fast! I can’t walk that fast in these heels!” 

He stopped sharply and turned towards you; you could see how angry he was. You didn’t know when he positioned his hands at the right places on your body, so he could throw you over his shoulder. An amused giggle escaped your mouth, but you quickly remembered that you should be mad at him.

“Put me down!” You hit him somewhere under the shoulder blade and immediately felt the hardness of his muscles – you might as well have hit a stone. You massaged your sore hand right away, meanwhile coming to terms with the fact that he couldn't hear you over the thumping music anyway.

A sudden coolness and distant sounds indicated that you had left the club. Bucky put you down but still stayed close in case you would lose your balance.

“What the hell are you doing?” You abruptly pushed back his arm, which was meant to secure you.

“What I am doing?” he bit back, the anger not leaving his face. He seemed more sober than before, too. “What the hell are you doing to yourself, Y/N? Kissing some strange guy in front of fucking everyone? You think John is gonna love that, but us hanging out is too much for him? Do you want this marriage or not?”

“What's the difference what I want!” A dreadful sorrow and helplessness echoed in your voice that made Bucky perplexed. His lips parted slightly, then snapped shut, his eyes filled with concern and sympathy. Despite the fact that you had been yelling at each other outside the club for the past few minutes, these words rang out most emphatically, bringing you both back to reality. “Who cares, Buck?” you said more quietly. “I'm supposed to marry a guy I don't really know, and I try to like him, but the more time I spend with him, the harder it gets. I'm not even talking about love, not hoping for it to happen, because I know John Walker is not it. But it doesn't matter, I still have to have his children, otherwise everything I'm doing now goes out the window. And I'm doing it so that my sister doesn't have to. So that she and my mother don't have to worry about the future and money. I would do anything for them, but my mother won't even speak to me; she is mad at me for it.” You quickly wiped a hot tear from your cheek, completely missing the moment you started crying. “I know there are worse things than marrying a rich guy.” You rolled your eyes at the depiction of your problem. “But it still hurts. Maybe one day I'll get used to it, but right now I'm fucking scared. I’m all alone, I have no one to get my back, no one to hold my hand. I’m fucking scared-” 

“Y/N…” 

“No.” You didn't let him get a word in fear that – whatever he had to say – you would break even more. “Help me get through this less painfully and just… disappear. Leave me alone.”

Connie appeared beside you, but you only noticed it when her warm hand touched your bare shoulder.  You didn't hear what she was telling you; there was just ringing in your ears, and the sound of gushing blood in your head. Bucky didn't take his eyes off you; you'd never seen him so worried, so vulnerable and unsettled before. 

Connie stroked your hair, then put her arm around you, and you both began to walk ahead. The tenderness of her gestures revived you somewhat; you looked away from Bucky and fixed your eyes on the pavement. Eventually she pulled you into probably the only open diner in the area. There was still ringing in your ears, but you realized that you were to get something warm to drink and wait for a cab.

One of your first conscious thoughts shortly after waking up was that physically you felt far too good for a hangover. You were genuinely disappointed by this, as this kind of suffering would have been the perfect excuse not to spend the day with John. The perfect excuse for your nasty mood.

You sat up on the bed, your eyes automatically fell on the black sweatshirt slung over the chair by a vanity table. Returning it would have been the perfect opportunity to see him, but you had finished that stage in your life, and you were going to stick to it. You decided not to bother with how you planned to give Bucky back his property. Instead, you grabbed the sweatshirt off the chair and put it on.

When you went down to the kitchen, you met Michael there. He was sipping coffee – as you gathered from the smell lingering in the room – and focused on you as soon as you entered his sight. As you prepared your tea, you felt his attentive gaze on you.

“Where were you last night?”

You almost dropped the cup from your hands. That uncomfortable, paralyzing electricity ran through your body. The only reason Michael could have asked that particular question was because he knew – someone had told him about what you were doing; that you were making out with a man whose name you couldn't even remember. And if Michael knew, John was also going to get that information sooner or later.

“At a nightclub. With Connie. Do you remember Connie..?” You glanced over your shoulder and he only nodded. “Why do you ask?” you added casually, although in reality you were sure you were about to have a heart attack. 

“I thought you saw Bucky Barnes. That you convinced him to change his mind.”

Your forehead furrowed, your eyes widened. Trying to ignore the fact your heart skipped a beat, you turned to Michael. “What..?”

“He has made an offer.”

a/n: feel free to share your thoughts, they are more than welcomed 🥰

taglist: @goldensunflowe-r @nefri-black @vickie5446 @learisa @sjsmith56 @aya-fay @hhiggs @wishingwell-2 @buckysgirl01 @emily-roberts @prettylittlepluviophile @leaaa008 @itvy5601 @melsunshine

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob bucky #mob!bucky x y/n #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky x y/n #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky x y/n #bucky fic #bucky fanfic

[starbandit]

Summer Nights (Nick Furcillo)

Preview:  Another tap. And another. You raised a shaky hand to peel the blinds apart, just enough for you to peek out. 

Contains: making out, obvious crushing

word count- 2.3k/unedited

This summer was going to be the best summer of your life. There was no way anything was going to ruin it. You had managed to snag the dream job of anyone your age who was begging for a little bit of freedom from home. A camp counselor. 

That’s right. Your summer was gonna be spent chasing sweaty pre-teens, fixing bee stings and splinters, and putting aloe on sunburns. But on top of that you were going to get to hike, and kayak around an island, and spend nights singing campfire songs. All while away from the real world, away from the stress of friends, of family, of school. 

Your main stressors were the middle school arguments you had to be the mediator for. Emma was little to no help with it, instead instigating said fights by helping spread rumors for a little bit of ‘entertainment’. You could almost hear her voice, “I can’t wait to tell the boys about this”, while you were busy consoling campers over their week-long relationship. 

 You threw your tray down on the table, another night of soggy meat and limp veggies. Camp food was never good, almost always big pots of some kind of slop and frozen vegetables. Nutritionally balanced was a goddamn lie. Emma sat down next to you, giggling and smiling at Jacob who took the bench across from her. 

“Oh, Jacob,” She laughed, covering her mouth. “You are hilarious!” 

You rolled your eyes. Even if they wanted to deny their relationship, say they were friends or hate each other, there was no doubting that something was happening. Of course, you knew, with the amount of times she woke you up to sneak out to the docks with him, there would be no way you didn’t know. 

Their conversation turned into background noise as your eyes caught someone walking towards your table. It was like something out of a movie, things moving in slow motion. Tight jeans hugged long, slender legs, a skinny waist hidden by a baggy t-shirt. Puppy dog eyes shining. 

Nick smiled and greeted you as he sat down with his food. Dylan, Kaitlyn, and Ryan sat down soon after, all beginning to chat with each other as they choked down the ‘food’. You joined in the conversation, listening to Dylan spit out some pretty good one-liners, and caught the way Ryan looked at him while he did. You listened as they made the plans for a campfire, something fun for the end of the week. The plan was for everyone to meet by the lakeside for the bonfire on the beach and roast marshmallows and make smores with the campers. Maybe someone would bring a guitar or some spooky stories. 

Soon dinner came to an end. Nick grabbed your tray before you even had a chance to react. “I’m on cleaning duty this evening.” He smiled. “I’ll still see you at the campfire tonight though, right?” 

“Oh!” You smiled back, hoping the flush of your face wasn’t horribly obvious. “Of course, I-I will definitely see you tonight.” You nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

Emma had already begun collecting the campers when you made your way to the table. She was helping the campers stack plates and trying to rush them to get to the showers as fast as possible. 

You and Emma led the campers back to the cabin to grab shower caddies and made your way to the bathroom. Emma groaned as you guys walked into the bathroom. It reeked of bleach and mildew, and a mild stink of wet dog for some unknown reason. The floor was stained with years of mud and perpetually wet. The lights flickered and some of the shower curtains on the stalls were beginning to turn black on the bottom from all the moisture. 

“All right campers! Each of you have… 6 minutes to shower!” Emma announced. “Save the hot water for everyone, please. I cannot take another ice bath tonight.” She rolled her eyes. You both made quick work of turning on the showers and assigning campers to each one to try and minimize the amount of time wasted. 

“So, you excited for the bonfire tonight?” Emma questioned as she picked at her nails. “Gonna flirt with your boy toy?” She whispered, nudging you slightly. 

“He’s not my boy toy!” You shook your head. Sure, you had a slight crush on Nick. He made your heart flutter, your cheeks get hot, your hands clammy. But it was only a slight crush… Right? 

Emma hummed. “That’s right. You won’t make a move.” She laughed. “Can’t be yours if you won’t stake the claim.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll do it when I’m good and ready. We don’t even know if he likes me back.” You watched as two of the girls began trading body washes and combing each other's hair in the dirt stained mirrors. 

When it was your turn to shower, you found yourself thinking about what Emma had said. Did she know something you didn’t? You let the cold water run over your skin for a little bit longer, washing any leftover soap off. You sighed as you turned the shower off and quickly got dressed, pulling pajamas over your still wet skin. 

You trudged back to the cabin with the campers, listening to them chatter about how excited they were for the bonfire and to see ‘Counselor Dylannnnn’. You had a good giggle with Emma about the crushes the campers had on the counselors while everyone cleaned up their bunks and finished getting ready. 

After a while, you guys finally left the cabin and began the short hike to the beach. The campers squealed and ran off the second they saw the glow of the fire and joined their friends on the blankets set up on the beach. Jacob and Ryan were throwing more kindling on the fire while Nick was helping a younger camper zip their jacket. Your heart ached at the sight. 

“Good with kids.” Emma teased as she pushed by you. “We’re here!” She called out. 

Nick looked up at the call and smiled when he spotted you. The kid he was helping ran off as soon as his jacket was zipped. “Y/N!” He waved. “Come sit.” 

You made your way over, taking in the smell of the fire before sitting on the log next to Nick. You could hear giggles of the campers just a few feet away on the shore, a few of them dipping their toes in which landed them a scolding from Ryan. 

You guys sat in silence for a while, watching as everyone chilled out and played around as the sun went down. You kept your eyes on the fire, the flames warming your face. It was almost perfect. That was, until Dylan and Kaitlyn approached. 

“We have S’MORES!” Dylan shouted, holding up some bags. The campers cheered and raced over, trying to grab at the ingredients to make the sweets. “Woah, woah, one at a time, ya little goblins!” He laughed. 

“We need a line!” Kaitlyn called out. “And for you guys to be safe, and smart, about the marshmallows and fire!” 

You helped the kids place the marshmallows on the ends of (mostly clean) sticks and showed them how to roast the perfect marshmallow. Kaitlyn was trying to avoid burns at all costs, even if that meant physically pulling kids back from the fire. Jacob and Emma had disappeared, no doubt off into the bushes somewhere to make out and baby talk to each other. 

Once all the kids had their fill of s’mores, the counselors decided to make a few of their own. You had a weak spot for the gooey goodness of a charred marshmallow and melted chocolate. You ate your treat while Ryan began the scary campfire stories to the kids. 

“Hey,” a voice sounded in your ear. You turned your head and came face to face with Nick. “You got a little, uh…” He motioned to his own cheek. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. Food on your face? What were you? 4? “Let me.” 

He lifted a hand to your face, gently rubbing the chocolate off the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Beautiful.” He smiled before popping the thumb in his mouth and sucking the chocolate off. “And tasty.” 

You were praying that only you could hear the pounding in your ears. And that the fire could be to blame on how hot and red your face was. You could hear the teasing from Emma already. 

“T-thanks.” You weren’t sure if you should thank him. He had just indirectly licked chocolate off your face. Kaitlyn winked at you from her spot next to Ryan when you looked back over. What was happening? 

The rest of the bonfire went by like a blur. Your mind was too focused on Nick to even somewhat focus on the story Ryan was telling. Something about a hag of the campsite? Who even knows. 

Now here you are, in your uncomfortable cabin bed, with your hands crossed over your tummy as you stared up at the ceiling. Your mind was racing, thinking about anything and everything. Did Nick like you? Was this some long con joke from everyone? You wanted to scream into your pillow but couldn’t risk waking any of the campers. 

A tap on your window nearly made you risk that. You whipped your head to the side and stared at the window, crappy plastic blinds were the only thing keeping whatever the hell that was from seeing you. Another tap. And another. You raised a shaky hand to peel the blinds apart, just enough for you to peek out. 

And there he was. Nick. Dressed in a pair of pajamas and with messy bed head, looking as cute as ever. He smiled at you, his flashlight pointed down. He motioned for you to join him. You rolled out of bed and trudged over to Emma, poking her until she acknowledged you. 

“Nick, I know.” She groaned. “Go, I got this.” She waved you off. 

You nodded even though she couldn’t see you in the almost pitch black darkness of the cabin. You slipped on your shoes and quietly left the cabin, the door creaking shut. You took a deep breath and walked down the steps to meet Nick. 

“Hey,” He greeted. “I hope I didn’t wake you.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Thinking about it now, maybe coming to ask you to go for a walk with me in the middle of the night wasn’t the best idea.” 

You giggled. “It’s okay, I couldn’t fall asleep anyway.” The two of you began walking out of the campsite and onto one of the trails. Conversation flowed naturally, ranging from home life to the possibility of aliens invading the planet. 

You two came to a clearing, the open night sky glimmering above you. Thousands of bright stars littered the sky and you sighed at the serenity of it. You and Nick sat on a fallen log, both admiring the sky. Crickets sounded in the grass around you. 

“It’s beautiful.” Nick whispered. 

You hummed in agreement. A cool breeze tickled your skin and you shivered, goosebumps raising on your arms. You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing your hands up and down in an attempt to create some sort of warmth.

“Oh,” Nick noticed. “Here,” He slid his jacket off and helped you into it. The warmth instantly sent butterflies to your stomach. The scent of Nick filled your nose and that alone made your cheeks hot. “Is that better?” 

“Yes, thank you.” You curled into the jacket, letting the warmth hug you. You both sat in a comfortable silence for a while before you noticed Nick had gotten closer to you. His thigh brushed yours, causing you to look over. 

“Is this okay?” 

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, this is okay.” You scooched a little closer, your legs now pressed together. You had begun to feel a little more brave and decided to rest your head on his shoulder, staring out at the view. You could hear Nick’s heart beat through the crickets, the sound pounding against your ear. “Hey, Nick?” You questioned softly. 

“Yeah?” He responded, resting his head on yours for a second. 

You stayed silent for a few seconds, enjoying the moment. You wanted to soak this up before you possibly ruined the entire friendship. “How do you feel about me?” 

Nick gently shifted, adjusting to sit somewhat facing you. “How do you think I feel about you?” 

“I asked first.” 

Nick stared at you for a second before lifting a hand and brushing your hair back. His hand came to rest under your chin. “I think that you are one of the most beautiful things here… And in the short time we have known each other I find my heart pounding and hands sweaty whenever you’re around. Is that gross?” He questioned. “Y/N, I feel like I have a middle school crush when I’m around you.” 

You smiled and leaned in, catching Nick in a sudden kiss. He tensed up at first and then soon melted into the kiss, hands reaching around to your back to pull you closer to his body. His hands sprawled across your back, fingers digging into the soft fabric of the jacket. He deepened the kiss, tongue poking your bottom lip. 

You smiled against his mouth and opened up, allowing him to pull you in. Your hands came to rest on his chest, feeling the muscle under the thin shirt he had on. You kissed each other slowly, exploring each other's mouths and testing the waters with what the other person liked. 

After a bit, you both pulled away. Nick’s lips were shiny, pink, and slightly swollen. He looked even more kissable than before. He had an almost drunken smile on his face. He leaned forward again, this time resting your foreheads together. 

“After camp, after summer is over, I’d love to take you on a real date. Restaurant, flowers, everything. What do you say?” He whispered. 

“I’d be stupid to say no.” 

#pls i wanted to make this smut #might make a part 2 for smut #nick furcillo #the quarry #the quarry fanfic #the quarry fic #the quarry x reader #nick furcillo x reader #the quarry nick #nick fanfic #nick fluff #nick furcillo fluff #nick furcillo fanfic #the quarry fluff #video game fanfic #this isnt my usual content but i have a fat crush on this man

[8bitscarlet]

Sun To Me

Summary: You don't remember a single winter where you weren't either stuck outside in a blizzard or stuck inside during a blizzard. Neither was ever fun to be in. But just this once, the blizzard may be the thing you always hoped for.

Pairing: Wanda x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Fluff (mention of alcohol, alcohol consumption, suggestive moments, mention of strip poker)

Word Count: 8.1k

A/N: SURPRISE! I carved out some time between doing work things, (neglecting work things) for a day and wrote out a little bit of this series. This weekend I have absolutely nothing to worry about for work so I've decided to sneak in this "little" chapter of AOP. Definitely not little, consider it reconciliation for being away (tho I am leaving again). Happy Reading everyone! 💕 And Happy New Year!

*please do not repost or translate my material or claim as yours. reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!*

___________________

"Can I borrow your phone?"

A hand glides across your shoulders, your eyes slowly rising up from the words you read. You guide a fork of food up to your mouth as you see the redhead notice the steaming cup of coffee you made for her. She peeks over at you with a soft grin,

"I forgot to plug mine in last night."

You hum unconvinced, pointing noiselessly to the counter as you chew on the breakfast she made before jumping in the shower. You flip to the next page of the newspaper, knowing that you plugged in her phone after she passed out halfway through the season you were watching. She just doesn't want to make the short journey back to the room.

She mutters out gratitude as she walks past you and as she leaves your sight, you feel your throat close. Choking on the food you were trying to swallow, you jump to your feet as you try to yell at her to wait.

As you turn, hacking up a lung and blinking away tears, you're too late. Wanda stands there, shaking your illuminated phone screen at you. Your eyes lock on the photo from when the two of you were undercover during a Brazil summer, you never experienced humidity like that before. You look like a tourist in your sweaty tank top with an incredibly loud and unbuttoned shirt flowing above your board shorts.

The smile on your face was real, you could see the crinkling around your eyes as your peace sign showed up behind Wanda's head. She was leaning against you, acting exhausted. Which you both were, bloody knees and covered in dust and mud, but you were both alive.

"I give Cap a run for his money in that photo," you clear your throat as you try and play off your sudden jumpiness to get some juice.

Wanda narrows her stare, "If anyone looks that good in the photo, it's me."

A chair scratches out behind you as you let out a casual chuckle, but you stare inside the fridge as you feel your heart beating heavy. You take down an entire glass, keeping your eyes away from Wanda as you pour another.

"Speaking of, Nat and Steve are still in the clear. This incoming blizzard is probably helping that,"

You nod, almost forgetting that the two of you were out in the middle of nowhere for a mission. You were supposed to be the chauffeur once Nat and Steve got a hold of some plans Yelena needed to do some black market trade on information for Strucker. It was a boring mission and easy to forget, especially when those green eyes were always across from you. They were all you could think about.

Turning, those eyes sit across the table as you take your seat. She has her legs curled up onto the seat, cabin socks pulled up high onto her calves and her cheek leaning on her knee with a soft grin as she watches you. Her eyes almost seem to brighten when they catch yours. You can feel a warmth on your face but you take a sip of the juice in your hand. 

“What demise have you planned for me today, Maximoff? Monopoly? Clue?”

She chuckles, flicking aimlessly through the sports section she took from your newspaper, “Seeing if you noticed the poison.”

You glance up at her, “I did. That’s why I’m eating it.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, finding your weather app and staring at the radar, “How long do we have until that storm comes in?”

“According to my calculations,” you stab your fork into the paper, “Should be picking up within the hour.”

“Well, at least we don’t have to be out there.”

You make a face, “Oh yes, because I enjoy just sitting here and listening to those static radios all day.”

Wanda slides your phone back to you, floating over the last pancake on your plate to her hands. You clench your brows but she starts to talk before you can steal it back, “Don’t be a party pooper just because you suck at card games.”

Your mouth falls now, first the pancake attack and now an attack on your pride. Standing up, you throw your plate away and start to wash the breakfast dishes, “There is no way you got to UNO so quickly,” you mutter the last of your words beneath your breath, “I’d win if it was strip poker.”

She stands up and bumps you out of the way, making you dry and put away the dishes, “And what’s your definition of winning? Having the most clothes or having no clothes?”

You shrug, leaning back against the counter as you spin your towel covered hand inside a cup, “Depends on the company.”

Wanda chuckles, “I’m sure it does. And today, you can play it by yourself. While you go get more wood.”

You groan and extend your arms out across the table, pressing your cheek against the newspaper.

“You’re the one who’s always cold. You get the wood.”

Green eyes flash to yours, cocking her brow as she takes her fork and softly jabs it into the center of your palm. You clench your brows together, feigning excruciating pain and let out a whisper of a scream. Peeking through one of your shut eyes, you see her nose scrunch and eyes crinkle with her smile. 

“Didn’t know torture was a hobby in your kingdom, princess.”

The fork digs ever more into your palm and you cringe at the stinging, wrapping your fingers around it and yanking it from her grasp. Wanda leans back into her seat, 

“You should see what I can do with a spoon,”

Standing, you throw all the dirty dishes into the sink, “Pretty unoriginal if you just scoop out my eyes.” Peeking out the window, you see the clouds starting to darken. If you were going to refill the logs for the fire, you’d have to work double time.

“Promise you’ll think of something less boring by the time I come back,” you start to slip into all your layers, trying to get your foot into your boot.

“Only if you promise to also not be boring,” The words mutter out from the side of Wanda’s lips. 

You frown, slamming your foot down into your boot, “I’m going to lock you outside in that blizzard.”

“I’m not making hot chocolate tonight,”

The grip you have on the back door tightens and you can hear the metal creak and dent beneath your fingers. Slowly, you turn and close the door to the whistling wind. 

“You wouldn’t dare,” you narrow your stare as those green eyes narrow back at you,

Wanda shrugs as the steam from filling the sink, “Try me.”

With a sigh, you place your hands on your hips and watch her for a moment. Casually scrubbing plates and cups. 

“I’ll bring the wood for your fire,” you give in to her soft glances and grin that teases at the corner of her lips, “And I guess I’ll make it too.”

As you open the door, you feel the warmth of something land on your face. Glancing over, you feel the same warmth as Wanda flicks water at you. 

“Don’t take too long,”

You give a snarky grin, “You’ll miss me?”

“Ha! No, I’m cold and that fire is way too low. If you take too long, I’m going out there to make sure you weren’t mauled by a bear.”

Waving away her laughs, you make your trudge out into the blistering cold. You let out audible grumbles but you have a smile that spreads along your burning cheeks and warmth through your body that you hope stays.

__________________________________

You huff out as you trudge through the snow, chuckling to yourself as you watch your breath escape in a frozen cloud in front of you. Bending down, you pick up another fallen log and add it to the sack of other logs you toss over your shoulder.

“Y/N, are you laughing right now? Do you realize how cold it is and how far we are from warmth?”

Adjusting the bag to your other shoulder, you start to jog forward with a grin, “I can see the house from here. And you wanted to come help.”

Wanda groans as you pass her with a laugh, “Because you kept letting all the cold air in when you left for wood. God, it’s so cold. My feet are frozen!”

You stop, dropping the firewood into the snow and trudge back to her as you slip out of your jacket. Throwing it over her shoulders and buttoning it to stay, you feel the cold run down your spine as you quickly snatch the bag up again. 

“You’d be absolutely terrible to go out on a lam with you know? Thank god you’re a hero.”

Trudging forward, dragging your feet along to try and make a walking path in the snow for the slow poke behind you, you hear complaining noises behind you.

“Can’t you carry me?”

You whip around, “Carry you?”

Wanda nods, adjusting some of the wood in her arms, “Aren’t you plagued with super strength. Just throw me over your shoulder.”

“What am I, Santa Clause? You’re the magical being here. Fly back to the house.”

You hear her let out a humph as the wind starts to pick up now, howling around you as you pick up your pace. You get to the door and rush inside, brushing off the snow from your now soaked through sweater. Ripping it off, Wanda stumbles through the door and lets out a violent shiver.

“How you doing? You okay?” You ask and she looks at you, knowing that tone, “Ten minutes in the elements. You need your last rites?”

“I want a towel, that’s what I want. You ass,”

You grin and take the little logs she managed to bring in and carry them over to the rest of the wood you had been gathering. Deciding Wanda will stay alive for the next five minutes, you go back to your room and quickly change out of your soaked clothes. The dry fabric instantly warms you as you tuck your sweatpants into your socks. There’s a loud creaking in the piping and you stop, kneeling down and pressing your hand against the vent. 

Slowly letting out a breath, you don’t feel any warmth blowing out onto your hand. This will certainly be a fun announcement, you think and wonder how Wanda is probably gonna set this whole house on fire to stay warm. You peek your head into the den and let out another sigh, there’s still no static coming through. You tried already to knock some snow off the antennae, with mixed results on your descent. This blizzard’s already knocked out vital equipment and it hasn’t even hit full force.

Trudging down the hallway, you come around the corner with an amazing slide on your socks. Opening your mouth to let Wanda know the situation, you stop as you hear Wanda whispering in front of the fire. Feeding it more wood as she tells it to grow bigger and warmer.

“Are you talking to-?”

“I’ve seen how stroking your ego makes your head bigger, figured it would make the fire bigger.”

You point at her but let her have this when you see her teasing grin, reaching out for the bottle of whiskey on the counter. Tossing a towel at her, you start to pour some of the amber liquid into the coffee mugs you had this morning. Wanda squeezes the water from her hair as you hold up one of the mugs, 

“This should keep you warm.”

Wanda hums and floats the mug towards her outreached hand, the warmth of her magic tickling up your arm, “And make bad decisions.”

You shrug, “I won’t let you run out into the blizzard naked.”

She scoffs as you slowly make your way to her, never taking your eyes from hers. You stop at the back of the sofa, eyeing the wood and wondering if it’d be better to move it all to a bedroom. A smaller space to warm. 

“Why am I going to be naked? Is that why you’re keeping your distance?” She glances at how you’ve sat awkwardly against the couch edge, “Or was it cause you’re afraid of me for talking to the fire? I’ve heard being sociable is wildly attractive.”

You glance down at your whiskey as you swirl it around after a small sip, “I’m sure people have a lot of reasons to think you’re wildly attractive.”

There’s a soft silence between you, forcing your eyes to rise and see a playful grin on her face, “Does the alcohol reach your brain that fast?”

“Is that how you always sit on a chair?” you counter, seeing her sitting on the arm rest, as if she’s prepared to take off at any moment. 

You both stare at each other, sipping from your mugs together and grinning. The wind howls outside and snow swirls around the windows but inside, there’s nothing but warmth. A comfort. You would never admit it, but you’re thankful for this blizzard. An unexpected lengthening of the mission. Wanda lets out a hum as she slithers into the seat, curling her legs up. 

“What,” you chuckle, “I didn’t plan this. And I didn’t sign that mind reading waiver.”

Wanda sips on the whiskey, “You’re telling me you can’t control the weather?”

“Innocent,” you hold up your one free hand as you follow Wanda’s move down into your own seat, “Get Natasha on the radio right now, she’ll tell you. Well.. you could if the storm didn’t knock out our comms.”

Her brow rises slightly, seeing that you’re still hiding something. You take another sip of whiskey and hide behind the mug, “And our heat.”

“Oh yes, I see. Far too much work to alter the atmosphere, cut off all our communication and have our heat taken away. I’m not important enough to go through all that trouble?”

You breathe in carefully, “You…,” leaning forward onto your knees and feeling the warmth of the alcohol running through your limbs, “Have no idea how important you are.”

Wanda places down an empty mug, “Don’t I?”

You grin, a confidence she always hid running off of her, “You are more important than that North Star.”

Her green eyes widen, a slow breath filling her lungs as she rolls one of the rings on her fingers, “You paid attention.”

“To you? Always,” you have your eyes follow your movement as you place down your mug, “Wanda?”

“Yeah?”

Clearing your throat as you try to get a chuckle out, you massage the stiffness from your fingers, “I’ve heard of another way to get warm.”

Wanda raises a brow, “With how you’re talking, I’m a little worried.”

“I read in a book once,” you start jokingly, and Wanda turns her head, covering her mouth to keep herself from mockingly asking that you can read and looks at you with gleaming eyes, “It’s easier to pass body heat when there isn’t clothing interfering.”

“How about we use that as a last resort, after your beloved strip poker. Because you can make a fire in here,” Wanda laughs as you watch her walk off to the bedroom, the wood floating behind her. Your chuckle falls short as you make a face at the scene. Wondering why she didn’t do that out by the shed and bring over all the wood. You shake your head but smile like an idiot to yourself, knowing she just wanted to be there. 

Leaning against the doorway, you watch her try to set up the logs. She’d been watching you for the past week, asking questions and being so close her touch and smell intoxicated you more than the whiskey ever could. Wanda’s fingers set up the twigs and rolls the newspaper as she floats the light up to her hand and starts to try and get this fire roaring. 

Working your way inside, you watch her in silence and grin at the seriousness on her face. Moving the logs to the holder, you hobble after one that rolls away from your grasp. You watch it get engulfed in an iridescent red glow and slowly float towards and then past you.

“Why are you limping?”

You tie up the bag of extra logs and toss it in the corner, “What?”

Wanda watches the fire for a moment and then looks back to you, “You’re limping. What did you do?”

“Oh, you know,” you shrug as you try to hobble quickly out of the bedroom and to the kitchen in an escape. She calls out your name but you’re fast on this throbbing ankle. But as you reach the kitchen and push up the sleeves of your shirt, Wanda is already there. She runs her hands down your arm and gently looks at the scratches on your hands.

“What happened?”

You sigh, “I climbed to fix the comms this morning. And it was really icy up there,”

“You fell off the roof?!” she exclaims, smacking you for not telling her before. You swat away her hands before they actually hit one of the forming bruises on your body. 

“The snow doesn’t provide much padding, I’ve learned,” you grimace out as the soreness in your shoulder is finally appearing as you lift the filled kettle. 

“Jesus,” Wanda whispers and yanks you away as the water starts to heat up, “Come here,”

Her yanking is insistent. She’s not asking permission to shove you down into the chair. And she’s certainly not apologizing for making you shout out in pain when your weight falls onto your hip. 

“That hurts!” You flinch away from her touch as she tries to look you over for some probable internal bleeding. A damp towel floats into her hand and the warmth is soon dabbing at the swollen scratch on your cheek that was hidden from the redness caused from the wind whipping outside. Her leg rests on your thigh, providing her support and you can feel the pressure slowly start to turn into pain. That was where you landed directly on a camouflaged tree stump and buried your face into the frozen ground to muffle your yell. 

But you have no frozen ground to muffle this yell, “Ow!” you shout directly in her face. 

“Well dammit, Y/N! What doesn’t hurt?!”

You look at her, “Why? You have some voodoo magic? A Sokovian old wive’s tale you swear by?”

She raises a silent brow, telling you in a simple stare to watch your tone. She didn’t make you fall off the roof and she didn’t cause the embarrassment you’re feeling for no reason. With a sigh, you lean back into the chair and point towards your shoulder, “Here,”

Wanda rolls her eyes and mockingly kisses her hand and presses it against the throbbing shoulder. You can feel the warmth without seeing the muted red that escapes her palm, “The building isn’t that high.” 

“The ground is that hard. Here,” you point to the top of your head. Her lips press softly against her glowing palm as she gently pulls off your beanie and presses the warmth against the injury free part of your forehead. 

She leans close, your breaths merging together as you can still smell the whiskey on her breath. Her eyes glance over you, searching for hidden scratches. Gliding over your stare and finding their way to your lips. She pulls in a deep breath, fingers gently running across your neck, 

“How do you feel now?”

You watch her eyes find yours again, your hands resting on either side of her thighs. Feeling how gently she sways, how close she lingers. Your body is warm, as if every square inch of you is being massaged out of every kink and knot. It comforts you in a way you’ve only found from this witch. A comfort that’s only grown more addicting with each passing day, each passing moment. 

A violent whistle explodes through the house. Both of you jumping and any thoughts of finding more comfort ends. You lean back into the seat as Wanda glances back at the screaming kettle. Leaving your side to silence it, you push off of the seat and limp around her.

There’s nothing but silence between the two of you as you work in unison. Handing her mugs that already have each of your favorite tea’s tossed inside. Wanda pouring in the boiling water as a floating spoon puts in the exact amount of required sugar. It was a perfect concert of movement and thoughts you’d never expected to share with anyone. And as you look over at the red head, you know she hasn’t read a single mind in your head. All of this being simple subconscious, your conscious thoughts racing with other contemplations.

_____________________________

Blankets are thrown and a hood is pulled taut around your face. Feet are slammed into slippers as you shuffle quickly across the floor and a hiss follows after you. 

“I’m keeping the fire going!” you call back to her, as you quickly stack the logs to keep the fire fed for hours to come. The bedroom is warm everywhere the orange glow touches but the cold fingers of the dark close in as the evening continues. Threatening to make your breaths reappear. 

“You’re letting all the cold air in!” Wanda rolls herself in the loosened covers as you climb back into the bed. You yank the stolen sheets back to you, dragging her closer to you as she doesn’t dare let go of the warmth. 

“I should’ve just moved my own bed in here, blanket hog,” you mutter and try to hibernate your whole body beneath the blankets. 

But cold has snuck its way in as you feel a sharp chill on your bare arms, vulnerable after you shoved up your sleeves so they didn’t burn with the fire. You jump from the chilling fingers that wrap around your arms. 

“Wanda,” you shiver out and yank down your sleeves, “Where are your freaking mittens?”

“I lost them in the snow, stop moving the sheets!” she yells through gritted teeth and pulls more of your sheets, surprising you with this hidden strength. 

You groan, moving with the yanking and flipping yourself over onto your other side. Taking your hands from your hoodie pocket, you wrap your arms around her. Wanda tenses, rolling away and shoving you back to your side. 

“What the hell are you doing?” her green eyes flicker around your face, her words coming out nearly breathless.

“Do you want them to find us frozen to death in here? It’s just getting colder.” Wanda narrows her stare as you continue, “Or I can keep these little hand warmers to myself.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “You ass,” flipping back over and pulling your arms back around her. You rub the hand warmers together before pressing them against her, feeling how cold she had been even with all these blankets. She lets out a quiet moan and you're silenced as your breath catches in your throat. Slowly, her body stops the beginning of its shivers and her chattering teeth have stopped. 

“Thank you,” she whispers as she scoots herself further into you, your arms wrapping ever so slightly tighter around her. 

“What letter plan is our last resort? L? Q? Cause if we die of hypothermia I’m going to blame you,” you mutter into her neck and she shivers a little bit. 

She knocks her shoulder back into you, “Don’t do that,”

“What. I’m just talking, Maximoff,” you breathe out heavily and watch the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Before you can pester her more, she whips around and presses you down onto the bed, her fingers wrapped tightly around your hoodie. 

“I’m going to murder you before the cold does,” Her hand smashes you down into your pillow,

You nod your head side to side for a moment, “That’s smart. I could be a good food source. I’d eat through the leftovers we have first, though.”

“Shut up,” she says and when you look up, you expect her rolling eyes and her to flop back onto the bed. But neither of those things happen. Her grip on your hoodie has softened, the palms of her hands resting lightly on your body. Wanda rests on top of you, her eyes flashing down to your lips and up to your eyes. You clench your brows, fingers creeping up to her wrists, “Just…”

“Just what?” you chuckle nervously, unable to read what’s happening in front of you, nothing but complete seriousness on her face.

The palm on your chest now hovers over your face, her thumb tracing along your face. You breathe calmly, finding her studying eyes as her thumb slides carefully across your lips. 

“I think you should just kiss me,”

You feel the shock first. Your body nearly falling limp as all of your senses explode. Feeling exactly how she rests on top of you, where each of her fingers presses down onto your body. The smell of firewood smoke and lavender wafting off of her and into your nose. The flashes of firelight that show how wide her pupils have exploded in her eyes.

It’s a quick paralysis. The part of your brain you’ve had chained finally getting the permission it’s long been waiting for.  You grip the back of her neck and slam your lips against hers. She straddles your lap as you press yourself up against the headboard, lips moving in unison. Her lips are as cold as the air around you but you can feel the warmth of her breath as her lips part in a sigh. 

Pulling apart, she rests her forehead on yours as you both pant out into the darkening evening. You feel her fingers grip onto your hoodie tightly, pulling herself towards you, closer than you thought could be possible. And you watch the grin on her lips form ever so softly. 

“We should’ve done that sooner,” she breathes out with a chuckle, but you don’t chuckle with her. 

“Wanda-,” she presses her fingers to your lips. 

Her lips gently find yours again as your hands glide across her thighs. You're intoxicated every moment she touches you, any discipline you had all these months forgotten with a single kiss, a single glance. Your hands rest at the edge of her sweater, pushing up the fabric and your lips parting for only a moment as it rises above her face. Your fingers trace along her silk skin beneath the long sleeve she has under. Her fingers grip your hair tightly as you guide your lips down her neck. Spending time at the tender pulsing point under her skin, listening to the quiet moan that escapes her lips. 

“I swear to god,” she sighs out but pulling you closer, “If you give me a hickey, I’m-,”

“Uh huh,” you mutter, “Ripping my limbs off.” You peck her lips, “Blah,” and again, “Blah.”

It’s nearly cold enough to see each other’s breaths perfectly as you pant out into the darkness. You don’t mind the chill. Both of you undressing until there’s barely anything left but the electricity coursing through your veins. 

The fire burns brightly behind you now. The glow curling around in a comforting warmth, lighting up the woman in front of you. Cupping her face with a careful touch, you part yourself from her lips and listen to the whining moan that comes from her. 

“You’re not supposed to stop. We’ll start thinking,” she warns you, but doesn’t yank you back to her. 

Your eyes study her, the flickering of the flames and the glowing of the moon that comes through the waning clouds. Staring at her now, there’s a feeling of weightlessness inside of your chest as your limbs begin to tingle. Your fingertips explode with sensations with each trace down her arms you drag. 

“Are you-,”

She can see the worry on your face, the thoughts you hide and the desperation in your eyes to not let this be a one time thing. But it’s a secret you try to hold, yet you know how well she can read all of them. Her green eyes wash over you, memorizing you with each slow blink. You don't want this to be like all of your other times. Animalistic and feral, ripping clothes off. You’d rather it never happen at all then to happen like that. 

“Yes, Y/N.” she whispers, “Are you going to kiss me again or do I have to do it myself?”

You grin at her, “Yes ma’am.”

       Those green eyes become hidden as you press a soft kiss onto her lips Her fingers grip your hair tightly as you softly guide your fingers down her neck, admiring each curve and line on her body. Not wanting to miss a single mark on the woman in front of you. 

            You hook beneath the straps of her bra, as you guide your mouth down her soft skin. Kissing along her collarbone, you plant a long kiss against her shoulder. You know that these shoulders hold more than just these straps every day and you hope to help her slide it aside. They've carried the memory of her family upon them. The world that thrives because of what she’s done, what she’s sacrificed. She holds everything so effortlessly. Never a complaint to the world, but you’ve seen the weight nearly destroy her. You know her. If you can, you’ll help take it all away for just a moment. 

She arches towards you, running her nails down your back before she grabs your face and brings your lips back to her. You sit up to work at the final layer on your body but she grips you tightly, her eyes begging you to stay close. To look into her eyes and see her. 

And you do. 

You hover over her as her fingers slowly unbutton each button with her delicate fingers. As you look into her eyes, you don’t want to hide anymore. One by one, they come undone just as you come undone in her eyes. You know these eyes have seen your insecurities, your fears. One by one, they showed themselves to her. 

Slowly, she slides the soft fabric down your back, feeling the way your muscles clench against the cold touch. Nails turning white as you grip her tighter, not letting her stray from you. 

“Drop it, Y/N.” she whispers as she pulls the fabric from your hands. You clench your brows softly as she runs her hand down your back again, “You’re not just carrying the weight of that button down.”

You breathe out carefully, slowly lowering yourself as you wrap your arms around her. Pressing kisses against her lips. Not feverishly and forceful like before. You aren’t desperately grasping at this moment to keep it from slipping away. You’re holding on deeply to have it last. 

Gripping the blankets the two of you were fighting over, you throw them over your bodies as you grip Wanda’s waist. Guiding your kisses down her body, you cover every inch of her sweet body with your lips. Caressing her curves with the tips of your fingers as you soak in her beauty. It feels like you’ve waited all your life for just this single moment, an inescapable feeling of being whole. 

You were constantly reminded that nothing was perfect, everything has its flaws. But as you memorize every part of the woman in front of you, how soft her skin is beneath your fingertips, the lavender that wafts from her and intoxicates you, how her fingers hold you so close, to her quiet sigh, you realize something. That if nothing was perfect, then she was absolutely nothing. 

“You’re so warm,” she sighs out, her fingers reaching for you. You intertwine her fingers in yours as you climb up from her thighs, slowly kissing her jaw. 

You freeze, hovering just above her lips and wait for those green eyes to flutter and rest on yours. She smiles when she sees you there, her hand resting on your cheek. 

“You’re…” you breathe out a heavy sigh, grinning over how she’s taken away every ability to be irritating. “You’re gorgeous. You have no idea how beautiful you are.” you tell her, pressing a deep kiss onto her lips. Wanting to stay just like this.

Her hands hold onto you tightly and her sighs fill you with a warmth you’ve not felt in years. A brightness that you swear you can see shine from within her. And you wonder, if this was the only time you’d ever be able to let that light shine without messing it up. How each of these moments together has been in darkness. Can you only feel her in the darkness? Were you still hiding?

You remember a time where you lived in the light, but now you’re worn out. Scared of what that morning light could bring as it swept away the darkness of the night. The night that you could hide behind. You knew that she’d be there through the night, a single bed and a fire made it certain. But when the morning light came, nothing would hold her there. 

You could be everything she needed in the night but for her to stay in the morning and for you to exist beside her, your hope couldn’t reach that high to lie and say it was possible. 

“Y/N,” she whispers against your lips and you feel your chest constrict as she speaks your name in such a way. Your palm pressing against the cold skin of her stomach, listening to how she gasps at your warm touch. “Don’t leave.”

You stare down at her and swallow tightly, would she wait for you to wake from the darkness? You take your hand and glide the back of your fingers across her cheek, stroking away a fallen tear. 

“Wanda,”

“When we get Sturcker. Don’t leave. Stay.” her voice barely reaches your ears, but when it does, it’s like a jackhammer on your chest.

Looking down at her, you see her. You’ve always seen her. Sitting outside your cell, she was never a witch. She was the woman with emerald sea eyes that peered so deeply into you. You’ve seen her and you know her. Every physical inch of her and every emotional inch.

She knew this, she bared her fears and vulnerabilities to you. And you’d done the same. You see everything you need right here. You realize that you don’t care where you are, as long as you’re with her. That’s all that matters to you now. 

You shake your head, “I’m not going anywhere.”

She sighs and closes her eyes tightly, the slightest grin forming on her lips. 

“Hey,” you whisper to her gently, pressing against her dimple as you wait for her to look at you, “Wipe that grin off your face and kiss me.”

____________________________________

You hear the soft beeping of your alarm. 535 in the morning. It was time to start your day and you could feel a tightening in your chest that was never there before. You’re terrified to open your eyes. Wondering if she was still there. If wanda laid there still next to you or if it was all a cruel dream. 

As you reach out for your water to quench the dryness in your throat, you feel a weight on top of you. Unfamiliar to any other time you’ve woken up. Opening your eyes slowly, you see that Wanda lays across you. You eye the completely empty side of her bed with a grin. It was warm inside the bed, you could stay in here a little longer before you face the blistering cold. The day would keep moving so you stay anyway. 

Arms are tied around each other and your legs are numb as hers wrap tightly around your knees. The sun sneaks through the window blinds onto her face as you look down at her. You grin, grateful for the rising sun that burned against closed eyes and woke you a second time. If only to see this. 

The sunflower intricately weaved into the chain around her neck. She truly was the sun itself. 

The sun that shook the frost from you. That had you not acting so angry all the time. Or keeping it all inside. You try so hard to tell her how much you care for her everyday but you don’t even know what that means. That you care for her. You don’t have any words yet, as you reach forward and swipe a stray hair from her face. 

She sighs in her sleep, scooting closer but her grip loosens. Freeing you to finally get the day started but you continue to stay there, for just one moment more. Every breath you take with her reminds you that each day is now yours. A hopeful thought as you rise out of the bed, ensuring the blankets keep Wanda nestled in their comforting warmth in your absence.

Sneaking back inside, you hear her starting to wake up as shake the chill from your bones and the snow from your feet. The smell of coffee fills the house and you ensure her coffee is made exactly to her liking. As the fire begins to reawaken with the logs you feed it, you place Wanda’s mug onto the bedside table. 

“Are you still alive?”

There’s a muffled groan and a half asleep voice comes from within the pillow, “Depends who’s asking,”

You crouch down in front of her, swirling the coffee underneath her nose. She scrunches it, much to your amusement. 

“I’m asking.”

She grins, trying to hold down her giggle, “Then no,”

You roll your eyes, “Oh come on. I see that little grin. You’re not even trying to hide it!”

Wanda looks out through one eye at you. She grins at your smile, the first sight of the day and you feel the warmth it sends through your chest. 

“Oooo, coffee?”

“Yeah, you know. To hide the morning breath,” you grin as you take a sip of yours. 

Her hand comes from beneath the sheets in a sneak attack, slapping your arm, “Yours is way worse.” That attacking hand reaches out again, this time grabbing your shirt and pulling you to her, “C’mere.”

You quickly place your mug on the bedside table before you’re both burned and you get lost in her kisses. You chuckle into her lips as she rolls to try and keep her lips on yours as you climb over her and clamber back underneath the covers. You flop onto your stomach, still halfway on top of her as she lazily runs her fingers around the back of your thigh. 

“You fixed the heater, didn’t you?”

You make a noise of affirmation, eyes feeling heavy in this warmth. She runs her cold hand up your shirt, a perfect contrast as you feel her fingers trace the scars on your body. 

“Wasn’t it cold?”

You shrug and then tense when you feel her lips touch your skin. Her kisses press against your scars all along your body. 

“If I could,” her breath brushes against your skin, “I would kiss these all away.”

Wanda presses a kiss against your cheek and her hair falls over you in a soft curtain as she lays next to you. 

“I’m glad for them,” you murmur into the pillow, your eyes still closed as her nose gently strokes yours. 

Her brows clench softly, “Really?” she whispers and you slowly open your eyes. 

“They got me here,” you say and see her grin, fingers stroking down your face, “Good morning.”

She raises her brows, “Indeed. How’d you sleep?”

You hum out, feeling her kiss your nose, “Did I snore?” Wanda nods and you feel it. You chuckle, “Then I slept perfectly. It was a long night though. 

She chuckles and sits up, wrapping herself in the hoodie you laid on the comforter for her and you open your eyes to her sipping on her coffee. 

“Last day on mission,” she whispers, blowing against the steam of her drink.

You make a noise, disappointed that it’s the truth. 

“How do you think everyone will take it after hearing about this?”

You sigh, “I say we just don’t say anything. How about that?”

She nods, staring into her coffee, “What happened in a snowed in cabin stays in a snowed in cabin?”

“Oh no,” you chuckle and squeeze the pillow, “I think we have a few things to talk about,” Your voice was light and joking but Wanda’s fingers stopped tracing along your arm, her eyes looking straight past you. 

Wanda breathes in carefully, “Jokes aside, we do have to talk this through don’t we? I… I meant it when I said you can’t leave.”

You lean forward, pressing your lips against her fingers, “I told you I had nowhere to go. But we’re already having the talk?”

She rolls her eyes, “You know, I don’t think you blaming being a mercenary for making you single is true. It’s just a talk, coward.”

You sigh, feeling her leg rest on top of yours, “I just slept with the strongest Avenger. I’m impervious to your insults.”

“Flattery isn’t going to get you out of this.”

“But,” you grin over at her, “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” And you’re right, your grin growing as you watch her nose scrunch and her cheeks grow red. 

The way she looks at you, the shock that jolts through you each time you see her and the flipping of your stomach when you hear her voice. It feels like it should be obvious what you should be feeling right now. But something feels wrong. Something inside of you is keeping you from latching onto her with no regrets and complete devotion. Something pushes you away and as she looks down at you, you know she can see it. She can see you.

With a silent nod, Wanda brushes back some of your hair, “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now,” Lips press against yours as you breathe in deeply, “Thank you for fixing the heater.”

You hum out, feeling her fingers start their tracing once again and start to lull you back into a comfortable sleep. They trace over your scars and you just sink deeper into the bed, knowing you’ve told her about almost all of them on your body by now. But her finger runs against a rather new, raised gash. Over and over again, inspecting it with a careful stare. 

“That’s the one I gave you isn’t it?”

Chuckling, you glance behind your shoulder and point to a jagged gash on the side of your thigh, you remember your thigh was ripped to shreds that mission, “I’m surprised you didn’t go for this one.”

“Please,” Wanda rolls her eyes, “I’m humble.”

You hum, “That’s the one. A little to the left and you would’ve caught my artery. Talk about messy.”

She makes an intrigued sound but leans over to kiss it before sliding beneath the covers, “I thought about it.”

“I’m sure you did,” you press a soft kiss to her lips as she squeezes the pillow to her liking, “I’m glad you didn’t do it.”

“So am I,” she whispers, but you know there’s no period at the end of that sentence. There’s something eating at her still as her hand glides down your arm and the other settles beneath her head. Her fingers gently wrap around yours and your thumb slowly strokes along the top of her hand, an action you don’t even think about until you’re already doing it. 

You stay silent. Raising your brow gently, waiting for her to speak. You hope it won’t take long because you can feel yourself sinking into the bed as you let out a quiet yawn. 

“Do you hurt?” she whispers and you stare, waiting. “I don’t mean pain but your past. Does it hurt you?”

Taking in a deep sigh, you ponder for a moment and glance away with a burning feeling of shame for how you’ve lived your life, “Now that I've truly looked at it, I suppose it does.”

“Do you regret it?”

You pick your eyes up and stare into her, finding no judgment in those emerald eyes as she offers you more time to think, “Being a mercenary?”

You breathe in slowly, jaw clenching and grasp on her hand growing ever so slightly tighter. “It’s hard to regret something you didn’t choose. This… it was all I knew.”

“But if the choice had been yours, what would you have done instead? Could learn any trade? Would you be a farmer?” A smile expands on her face as she realizes something, scooting closer into you, “An astrologist?”

 You chuckle, remembering the chilly night on that cold bench, “Maybe I could find the Little Dipper.”

Wanda laughs, a sound so heavenly and sweet but her eyes intently wait for your answer. And you give her one. 

“But if I ever thought of being something else… Something that… I’m not. It happened so long ago. I don't remember.” Your voice is getting lower as your eyes grow heavier. Your body is so calm. You don’t know if you’ve ever truly relaxed as much as you have in this moment, “Did you dream of being a hero?”

Wanda thinks for a moment but soon the answer finds her, “I didn’t have much choice either.”

You turn your head more towards her, letting out a soft sigh, “Did you always want a family like this?”

“I lost my family,” her green eyes glance away from you, thinking of what could’ve been, “And I found another but… I dreamed of becoming important to someone. One day.”

The battle has been lost as your eyes fall, a hum coming from deep within your throat. A chuckle gently pulls you back for a moment, 

“Do I bore you?”

You open your eyes slowly, seeing the humor in Wanda’s eyes. You grin, eyes closing once again when you see she isn’t angry, “Of course not. I’m just listening better.”

She laughs, fingers just skimming your arm and leaving behind a radiating feeling with each pass, “Have you ever been in love? Been important to someone?”

You sigh, clutching your pillow tighter as you wonder if this would be the moment, “I thought I was, That scar on my chest is… well, I thought wrong. And the knife proved it. Never could let my guard down again.”

Wanda hums quietly, brushing the hair from your face and resting her hand on your forearm. Seeing just how much of your guard was let down right now, on a mission of all places. Gently, you open your eyes and look at her. A soft stare as her blown out pupils look to you, fingers running down and over the scar you mentioned. So vulnerable, she could kill you without a single thought. But all you feel is warmth. And you wish to let her know. 

“Before we met, my days were planned down to the hour. They were calm. My nights were restless, gathering enough energy to go get through the day. Sleeping on floors,” you grin lightly but her eyes haven’t left your half exhausted face, “But now, my days…” 

The world around you is losing physical form as your consciousness starts to slip away and so does your control on your tongue, “… You’re important to me.”

As you start to relax into dreams, you can feel a cold touch on your skin. Running across your forehead, you relax the wrinkles between your brows as the chill touch slides down the bridge of your nose. It rests on your jaw, a soft caressing along your cheek as you let out a soft sigh. Warm breath washes over your face and you feel the smallest grinning kiss press against your cheek. 

“The past has passed,” she whispers against your skin, “Let’s stay in right now.”

As her fingers trace along your body, it’s just you and her, and there’s nothing more you want. She’s everything. And you know exactly why your heart flutters each time her eyes find you, why your skin burns every moment her cold hands touch you. Whenever she’s near, you were right where you needed to be. And right now, it all became crystal clear. 

You didn’t need the night to be alive anymore. You could live on your own. But Wanda in the morning time makes you glad you’re still alive.

———————Chapter 17

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[blue--ingenue]

"Evasive Maneuvers" - Part 4

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Summary: You've been in love with Sebastian since the moment you knocked him on his arse on your first day. Entering your sixth year, you finally begin working up the courage to confess your feelings when he suddenly becomes the best Beater Hogwarts has seen in decades - and subsequently becomes the school's most eligible bachelor.

Author's Notes: sorry for the little cliffhanger/teaser a few days ago hehe. i've been really excited to post this chapter and wanted to give you a sneak peek. anyway, seb is a mess, but i promise he gets better at expressing his feelings :) (i forgot to mention in previous parts, but all characters in this fic are aged 18+)

Sebastian cursed as his shoe caught on a loose floor tile, nearly stumbling down the short flight of steps leading to the Potions classroom. He’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed and everything else had gone downhill from there. He’d arrived at morning quidditch practice to an onslaught of rain. Despite the wind and near-torrential downpour, Imelda had insisted they run drills until their allotted hour on the pitch was up. It was their final practice before their match against Gryffindor. Not only was it one of the most anticipated matches of the season, but Madam Kogawa had also chosen this particular match to evaluate the two houses’ players for a chance to represent the school at the Championships. Sebastian barely had time to cast a half-arsed drying charm over his robes before realizing Potions had started ten minutes ago. Now he was barreling through the halls, irritated and hoping that his tardiness wouldn’t affect his partner’s grade as well as his own.

Remembering that his best friend stood just beyond the door in front of him, he paused to run a hand through his unruly curls and adjust his tie. He hadn’t abandoned all decorum in his tardiness, thank you very much. For some reason she was the only one he cared to check his appearance for. The whole world could think him a rumpled, muddy mess, but as long as he maintained his dashing charm in front of her, he was content. This was, of course, all due to the fact that she was his best chum. That was the only reason he could think of. She was a fixture in his life, occupying more space in his heart and his head than he had the words to describe. So it naturally followed that her opinion would matter above the rest. It had been like this for as long as he could remember. Just last week he’d spent the galleons he’d been saving for some new quidditch gloves on a lovely necklace for her. He told her he’d come across it just as he was leaving Honeydukes. In truth, he’d spotted it at Gladrags a week before the start of term and knew it would look perfect on her. He’d only visited the sweetshop after he had acquired the necklace. He decided to downplay his enthusiasm for her gift, just in case she got the wrong idea. 

Sebastian was no fool to the nuances of courtship. Ominis had approached him over the summer to ask him for his blessing about courting Anne. Solomon, who had always had a soft spot for the Gaunt boy, and encouraged his endeavor with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Both boys knew that Anne was her own woman and that asking for his blessing was a mere formality, but Ominis insisted on speaking to both of her remaining family members just in case. He knew what it was like to lose family and he didn’t want to risk causing a rift between any of the Sallows. 

Sebastian’s feelings toward his Gryffindor weren’t similar in the least. He’d seen witches and wizards fawning over one another as they walked arm-in-arm at Hogsmeade. He knew how ridiculous his classmates would act when the object of their affections glanced their way. Sebastian Sallow had never acted that way with her a day in his life. Sure, her presence left him invariably flustered, but that was simply because they were the closest of friends. He didn’t know how to put a name to the feelings she roused within him, but calling it something as trivial as “infatuation” seemed nothing less than insulting. No, she was far too extraordinary for that.

He was looking forward to putting this mess of a morning behind him. Spending time with her never failed to lift his spirits - which is why it hurt twice as hard when he stepped into the classroom and saw a familiar ginger nuisance standing in his spot. He was rooted to the spot, incredulous and fuming. He’d never taken issue with Weasley in any year previous, but since the start of term he seemed to be in the one place that was rightfully Sebastian’s - by his Gryffindor’s side. 

“Ah, Mr. Sallow. Good of you to finally join us,” Professor Sharp drawled from the front of the classroom. “If you’d like to avoid losing Slytherin any house points for today I’d recommend finding a seat. There seems to be an open stool next to Mr. Clopton.”

Begrudgingly Sebastian stalked over to Everett’s workbench and dropped his books onto the table with far more force than necessary. From across the room his Gryffindor shot him a sympathetic smile. It was like the first rays of sun had disintegrated the clouds from this morning’s offending storm. Looking around, she hastily scribbled a note onto a spare bit of parchment before waving her wand over it. With a soft pop the note appeared next to him. He smiled and snatched it from the table, unfurling it with speed. 

Sorry, Garreth volunteered to take your place when Sharp noticed you hadn’t yet arrived. Catch you after class?

He let the note fall to the table and plastered on a nonchalant smile. She seemed relieved, and for some reason that only seemed to irritate him further. Did being his partner mean so little to her that she was already content to continue on? To add insult to injury he was now forced to spend the next hour with Clopton. He was an alright bloke, but his obsession with quidditch meant that he was one of Sebastian’s biggest fans. He felt flattered, truly, but Everett’s presence began grating on his nerves once he started butting into the rare free time he spent with his Gryffindor. Seeking out a distraction from the hornet’s nest of feelings trapped within his head he turned to Everett to ask how far along they were in the potion recipe.

The Ravenclaw stood stock-still, as though he couldn’t believe Sebastian was actually talking to him after nearly a month of dismissed conversations. 

“Everett?” he prompted, exhaustion leeching the annoyance from his tone. He seemed to come to his senses at last and fumbled for the open potion book propped up against their cauldron. 

“Just here,” he replied, pointing to the second step. “I’ve already gathered the necessary ingredients, so we can just carry on with the chopping.” Sebastian thought he sounded far too enthusiastic for their first class of the day, but obliged. He’d just finished crushing the last bit of moonstone when Everett piped up. Unsurprisingly, and much to his dismay, he began prodding Sebastian about his broom skills. Sebastian gave a few obliging nods as he tuned out the boy’s rambling, intent on finishing their brew as quickly as he could. 

“The maneuvers you pull during practice are incredible! And on a school-issued broom, no less!” He carried on. Haughtily he added, “Of course, my broom is one of the fastest on the market. Begged my parents for one of those models for a year. A newer model was close to being released by the time they finally caved.”

Sebastian gave a noncommittal hum and focussed on listening in on the couple occupying his usual station. His hand stilled over the cutting board. Couple? He wondered. When had that word popped into his head? She and Weasley were hardly a couple. She was his best friend, and he was sure that he’d be the first one to know if she were even remotely interested in courting someone. To prove it, he looked up from his slicing to affirm their mutual distaste.

Only it didn’t look like distaste at all. She stood as she always did, elbows on the stained wood as she ran down the ingredient list with the tip of her wand. Weasley towered over her, reading over her shoulder with one arm supporting his weight atop the table. His attention caught on the boy’s face. He was smiling. It was soft and fond and trained entirely on her. Sebastian seethed. He didn’t know why this small act of affection lit a fire in his veins, but it just felt innately wrong, like stretching a muscle just a tad further than it was meant to bend. She was none the wiser as his larger hand brushed against hers in his attempt to turn the page. She turned her head then, realizing for the first time how close they were and blushed. This was ludicrous. Any closer and he’d practically have her pressed against the table. And what if he leaned down? What if he held her impossibly closer and pressed his lips against hers? Would she kiss him back? Sebastian wondered if she’d tug on his tie, pull him down and tangle a fist in his curls. 

This was ridiculous. Unbelievable. The whole bloody world was spinning off its axis and Sebastian was the only one who seemed to notice. If anyone should be kissing her, it should be him. He was supposed to be the only one to- 

Oh. 

Oh, dear. 

The world was no longer spinning off its axis. In fact, it wasn’t spinning at all. Everything and everyone was frozen and Sebastian was left to feel all these feelings in painful crystal clarity. He’d read about romance in the muggle novellas Anne had teased him for buying, but on paper everything was straightforward. The hero knew he loved the girl, and the girl loved him right back. In all the books he’d read the couples were inseparable. There was never a question of whether they loved each other, not one true doubt to be found. From Prologue to Epilogue he felt safe knowing that the couple would ultimately get their ‘happily ever after.’ Things were different once the books were back on their shelves. Happy endings were rare, if they even existed at all. His parents were kindred spirits, their love for one another so powerful that it flowed into every nook and cranny of their home. His mother used to tuck them in and say that she loved their father so much, the world decided they needed two children to carry it all. Those happy honeyed years were tucked safely away in his mind, where the memories of his parents’ demise and the rest of reality couldn’t touch them. 

Love was soft and sweet, and the world was a sharp and insatiable thing. The years following their move to Feldcroft were a special type of purgatory. The memories of his beloved childhood swirled cruelly in his mind’s eye each night, just vivid enough to remember yet just out of reach. A shard of fear pierced his chest. He couldn’t bear to lose her like that. He didn’t think he could stand getting so close to another person only to have them inevitably ripped away. Sebastian Sallow yearned for fairy tale endings, but he didn’t know if he believed in them anymore. 

A high-pitched hissing tore his focus away from his epiphany and the world spun on as if he hadn’t just realized something beautiful and horrible and terrifying. It intensified and he realized the noise was coming from Weasley’s cauldron. He could only watch on as it erupted, sending metal shards and acidic splatters every which way. Garreth tackled his Gryffindor to the floor, shielding her with his own body while the failed potion smoked and ate through his robes. She frantically tore the tattered robe from his body before it could make contact with the rest of him and the two froze. Although he couldn’t hear them over the chaos the rest of the room had erupted into, he knew she was asking if he was alright. He nodded and Sebastian saw red as he brushed her hair back to look at a nasty cut on her forehead. Garreth’s discarded robe smoked behind him, his shirt torn in a few places, and gently held her face in his hands as he checked for more cuts. He only barely registered Sharp dismissing the class for the day before he was grabbing his things and slipping out of the classroom.

.

.

.

.

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Taglist: @snickette, @findingtruenorth23, @plooloo, @paganicher, @smilesworldsposts, @snoozebun, @crazyllamasurfer, @pixie-dustss, @margottheviking, @lollife1617, @tired-meg, @somethingiswrongwithme

#sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #angst #fluff #pining

[subskz]

hi ms. rin!! long time no see ☺️

i was always reading your works & all your amazing posts but i realize today it was a long time since i sent an ask >< i hope you’re doing great!

i wanted to ask if you’re still writing the childhood friends to lovers with lee know? ever since butterfly bandage i was craving to read another longfic from you cause you write so beautifully :< & with minho being my bias i think i’ll die if you make a story for him..! not to pressure you of course 💕

-🧸

hello hello omg it really has been a while!! it’s so nice to see you again my dear i hope you’ve been doing well and taking care since we last spoke ♡

you’re too kind thank u so much for your lovely words!! it’s so sweet that u even remember i was writing that lino fic i’m really glad you’re looking forward to it 😭 it’s still very much a wip so i’m not exactly sure when it’ll be out, but i work on it all the time! here’s a few lil sneak peeks just for u hehe

also please note that a lot of this is subject to change since i’m still working on it 😽 these snippets are still a bit barebones

ᓚᘏᗢ — snippet 1

You stared at the crumpled nest; abandoned, with what was left of it quickly being carried away by the wind. Straw by straw. You felt like crying.

Don’t be so sensitive. You told yourself. It's just a stupid bird.

“Wow,” a familiar voice, soft and brusque and not sounding very wowed at all, came from behind you. “That’s amazing, isn’t it?”

You lifted your head, whipping around to find its source. Not that you really needed to, anyway. You knew that voice better than your own, by now.

“Huh?”

“They were just babies, but they already flew away.” Minho crouched down next to you to examine the remains of the fallen nest. His small fingers brushed over it, so delicately that the grass barely shifted under his touch. “Like they know exactly where they’re supposed to go.”

You rested your hands on your knees, unconvinced, refusing to look at him. Your eyes were stinging. You didn’t want him to think you were dramatic. You didn’t want him to make fun of you. He’d put just as much care into looking after them, if not more. He’d stayed with them even longer than you had. How could he be so accepting of it?

“Birds are so cool,” he continued. A gentle breeze ruffled your hair, like it was summoned by his airy lilt. “They can go wherever they want.”

“Why do they have to go?” you muttered.

“Cause the world’s so big, dummy,” he said it like common knowledge, like he’d consulted the birds himself. “And they’re so small. So they gotta start seeing it early before they die.”

You puffed out a half-hearted laugh.

“You’re like a bird,” you decided.

“Mm?”

“You do what you wanna and go where you wanna.”

“I can’t be a bird,” Minho sniffed. “They fly too high. I'm more like a cat, ‘cause no matter where they go, they always know how to find their way home.”

“Like Soonie,” you said.

“Like Soonie,” he agreed. “Remember when he was gone for three days? But then he showed up again like nothing happened?”

“You cried a lot,” you giggled.

Minho huffed, looking away. “I knew he’d come back.” 

It had been one of the only times you’d ever seen him cry in your four years of friendship. He might’ve completely denied crying altogether if the subject were anything other than his beloved cat. His little brother.

“So you’ll always come back, too? Like Soonie?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I'm gonna be here ‘til I'm at least 100, or else someone will take our spot under the maple tree.”

ᓚᘏᗢ — snippet 2

Minho’s hand reached for yours. It was shaking.

“If you're scared, I can stay with you,” he offered. You could tell he was trying to sound casual, but there was an undeniable tremor there. Not breezy, not carefree; thick and heavy with apprehension. It weighed down your conscience. “It’ll be embarrassing if you’re the only one in class left behind, right?”

You remembered how he’d reacted when you traveled up to the mountains last summer, how he’d turned away from the window when the car drove along the edge of the road, with nothing but a flimsy, rusting metal barrier standing between you and several thousand foot fall. You remembered how much trouble he’d had walking straight when you first arrived at the campsite, strangely quiet, muttering to himself about how high up it was. It was too high, the air was too thin, the world was too far away. 

Those were the issues, of course. The issue certainly wasn’t that he was terrified out of his mind. A cat stuck in a tree, longing to accept help without sacrificing his pride. Unsure whether to hiss at whoever came near, or leap into their arms. He’d grabbed your hand the exact same way, back then. 

“Okay,” you replied.

He perked up, features flashing with a hopefulness that was almost enough to break your facade. 

“Hm?”

It would’ve been so easy in that moment, to tease him. To call him out, gain the upper hand on him for once in six years. But looking at those eyes—round and bright and gleaming under his glasses with an innocence that effectively wiped away every annoying thing he’d ever done from your memory, you just couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Let’s skip the rollercoaster,” you said plainly. “I’m scared.”

You weren’t, strangely enough. You wondered if Minho knew that. Of the two of you, he was undoubtedly the risk taker. His mind was too capricious to not explore every possibility there was, to not absorb everything the world had to offer until he found himself in it. It was almost exhilarating for you, to be the adventurous one, for a change. To be the one who didn’t hold yourself back.

You wanted to be bold. You wanted to be fearless. You wanted to impress him. 

But more than any of that, you wanted to stay with him. You didn’t want him to sit alone on the amusement park bench, watching his classmates have fun without him as he fumbled with the wrapping of a snack he couldn’t eat, because the anxiety had made his stomach hurt. 

“Seriously,” his grin was weak, but as he laced your fingers together properly, you could feel the quiver in his hand begin to calm. “What would you do without me?”

You simply grunted, allowing him to tug you along to the bench. You didn’t want to think about it. It was playful, not really seeking a response, but that didn’t stop his question from lingering in the back of your mind. Like a part of you knew that, sooner or later, you’d have no choice but to find the answer.

#ask #🧸 anon #💌

[altraviolet]

Ch 47 sneak peek 👀

Hello and happy winter* festivities** all!

*summer for southern hemisphere **normal day for those without festivities right now

I'm hoping to finish Ch 47 before 2024, but wanted to share a lil sneak peek! Everything below is subject to change, of course, but as of now Ch 47 will be told from Rodimus's point of view.

In case I don't see you again til 2024, wishing you all a very happy seasonally appropriate greeting! All the very best! Excerpt beneath the cut >D

Rodimus awoke in a tangle of tentacles. He stretched, careful to avoid scratching Soundwave's visor. “Mmmm.” He wiggled and settled down against the smooth protoform of Soundwave's body. Soundwave didn't stir.

The low hums and cyclical pumping of the Lost Light's utilities were louder here than in Rodimus's room, courtesy of the torn walls. The sheeny curtain had pulled back, revealing little crystals glowing faintly in their nooks and crannies. With soft metallic ssshhhks, Soundwave's tentacles repositioned themselves around Rodimus. They always moved so their cool sides coiled against him. Rodimus wasn't sure if they got too hot when touching him, or if they liked being warm and moved to distribute his heat evenly.

Rodimus traced a burned section of tentacle with a fingertip. Its metal was darkened and marred by tiny ripples. The segments were offset, preventing the tentacle from coiling properly. It bent into a soft corner. A rounded corner.

Rodimus snerked to himself.

It wasn't really a laughing matter. Rodimus gently pet the darkened metal. Its tiny ripples caught in the mechanisms of his palm. He'd dealt this damage. He felt bad about it. But... not guilty. Soundwave didn't deserve to be burned. But Rodimus wouldn't fault himself for his body's defenses.

Besides, Ratchet had a plan to fix it. They were gonna fix it, just like they'd fixed the holes in his chest, and they'd both be good as new.

"A virus.”

“Compassion.”

“I only want yours.”

Rodimus grinned to himself. No one had believed him when he'd said Soundwave would find his place. Hell, there were times when he barely believed it. But he'd done it. He, Rodimus, proud co-captain of the Lost Light, had shown this emotionally-starved, devastatingly loyal Decepticon there was another way. A better way. And now Soundwave was flourishing. He had friends, and a really weird but wonderful hobby, and tendrils that could leave a mech gasping in pleasure. And holy hell, Rodimus never would have thought that last thing was a thing, let alone it could be true, let alone he'd be the mech gasping.

“Preferred: Rodimus, happy.”

The grin faltered. Of course Rodimus was- well, he was happier. That was good. And of course his new bedmate would want him happy. That made total sense. That's what a good friend would want. What a lover would want.

What a lover would-

Rodimus wrenched himself from that train of thought. He scanned the room, desperate to distract himself. The desk was cluttered, projecting a dim data cascade in Soundwave's native cyphers. The makeshift shelves were crammed full of random tools and crystals. Bare wiring poked through in places, backdropped by shadowy pipes and conduits.

It was barely recognizable as Drift's room.

Maybe it never had been.

…

Oh, it had been. It definitely had been. And he'd been on this bed before, tangled up in limbs, feeling serene. Feeling at peace. Feeling like the mech beside him was a beacon, and for the first time since their initial jump, he could see where he wanted to go.

That bright and gentle feeling tightened in his chest.

No! Shut up! It's not happening again!

Rodimus knew he should get up for his own good. But his frame would not obey. He found himself burrowing harder into Soundwave, willing that cool body to shield him from those memories. Beat them away. Bury them. Better still, forge new ones. He wanted – he hated that he wanted – Soundwave woven into the fabric of his reality. Heavy in his arms and weighty against his plating. Too weird and wonderful to be washed away by the tides that pushed and pulled at Rodimus.

Soundwave stirred. His visor onlined with a flash. It displayed a rapid pulse. “Rodimus: agitation?”

Rodimus's field perked up out of habit, ready to push the concern aside. Dammit. Soundwave always knew when he was lying through his field. He didn't like it.

“False field express-”

“It was automatic. I didn't mean it.” Rodimus shoved the false cheer away. His true feelings seeped out. He couldn't hide them, but that didn't mean he had to explain them, either.

Soundwave's tentacles snapped up, tendrils sampling the air. “Rodimus: afraid? Danger in vicinity?”

“No,” said Rodimus. He parted the sheeny curtain and pushed himself off the bed. “Old thoughts. Don't worry about it.”

A tentacle wound around his arm. “Rodimus: needs...?”

“Breakfast.” Rodimus pulled away. The tentacle's biolights slid under his fingers, one by one. Blue light peeked between the bevels of his joints. “Why don't you sit with Nautica and Blaster today? We don't want people getting suspicious.”

The tentacle retreated. “Affirmative.”

Rodimus returned to his room via their secret door. He gave himself a big smile in the washroom mirror. A big, huge, totally happy smile accompanied by a forceful spoiler raise. Rodimus scrubbed faint, dark paint marks from his plating and polished his biolights. The glass of his body dulled when pressed against Soundwave's for hours. Rodimus didn't bother to wonder why. The explanation was always dimension stuff.

#echo garden related #preview #chapter preview #Ch 47 #Rodimus POV #if anyone's curious I am what tumblr likes to call 'culturally christian' #immediate family does a secular xmas-looking thing #but we're all agnostic or atheist #I am atheist but don't mind holiday wishes so if you send me some I will return them in kind :)

[moonchildstyles]

fic announcement and sneak peek!

hiiiii besties!!!

I said a while back when I announced columba that I would be coming back with another series for both Tumblr and patreon this summer and that time has come :)))))))))))

for the last four years Ive had this idea in my head for a super special h that ive just let build a home in my heart that kept growing and growing and growing! now ive finally had a chance to write it all out and make him real with a fun story and lots of little details to make him who he is!

I don't want to spoil too much about him just because I want there to be a little mystery for him and theres so many fun details that I think will be really fun to put together when you dont' know what he's up to!

so, starting on June 30th, Rosemary will begin being posted with a new part every friday here on Tumblr! Patreon will be getting early access with the first part being posted on June 16th, and every friday after! an extended sneak peek is also up on my patreon rn!

If you are interested in reading the new story, please wait until June 1st to sign up so you only get charged once at the beginning of the month and theres a full 30 days before the next charge!

you can also check out the Pinterest board I made for the fic!

let me know if you guys have any questions about anything! im sooooo excited and cannot wait for you all to read!

under the cut is a sneak peek :)

—————

"Thank you, Harry!" 

The bow girl's chirping gratitude only had Harry looking at her stiffly with a grumbled Yeah falling from his lips. Just as she had done the last couple of months since she made herself a presence during his shifts, she only gave him a smile before bouncing away with her basket only containing a carton of banana milk and her favorite cookies. She was no longer perturbed by the standoffish responses he gave her. Harry couldn't decide if he liked that or not. 

It was like this at least a couple of times a week. She never did a big shop, only stopping by at the later times to pick up individual ingredients for a dinner she had chatted to him about, or little snacks she couldn't seem to go a day without. During at least one of her trips, she found an excuse to talk to Harry; she asked him about his day if she was close enough to feel comfortable starting a question (Harry never gave her a good answer, honestly), she told him about her own day and what she was shopping for if there was anything specific she had in mind. She almost always had a bow pinned her hair, fluttering behind her and matching whatever soft piece of clothing she had cinched around her form. Harry had even began fishing out a pack of her favorite cookies from his boxes if he was stocking that aisle, just to make it easy if she came in and asked him for assistance. It made the interactions quicker and less bothersome—at least that's what he told himself. 

He knew more about her and her routines than he had any of the hundreds of people he'd met in the last handful of years since he started moving around. Even if that did make him feel a bit guilty knowing that she didn't have a clue about who exactly she was sharing these parts of herself with; she didn't know the mess she was tiptoeing around every time she interacted with him. 

Tonight was no different, her leaving a rattling in Harry's bones that he wanted nothing more than to ignore like every other part of his life. If he was superstitious, he would think she could have cast some kind of spell on him with the way she and her little bows lingered in his brain long after she had checked out and gone on her way home. 

That rattling followed him as he made his way into the backroom, his empty box needing to be replaced. An exasperated sigh fought to leave his chest when he saw almost half of the overnight team huddled in the area, puttering about as they chattered and pretended to work. He didn't like being roped into their conversations, and that almost always happened when he ran into more than two of them at once. 

Harry didn't say a word as he broke down the cardboard box on his cart, pushing it off to the pile of the other flattened boxes before he reached for another. The conversations had quieted some when he walked in, but he could still hear what sounded like Brett and Fawn flirting in the back corner with a cart of refrigerated items that needed to go on the opposite end of the store, and Theo talking to two of the other guys that Harry didn't bother to remember their names. 

"Busy night, huh, Harry?" Theo started, dropping whatever topic he had been rambling his friends about just a moment before. 

"Yeah," Harry answered, voice stiff. It wasn't any more busy than any other night as far as he was concerned. Besides, he had other things he needed to worry about to be making conversation with a coworker he barely knew. There was still a pearl colored ribbon tying his stomach in tiny knots that he needed to fix. 

Soon enough, a silence fell through the backroom when the others made their way out. Only Harry and Theo were left, Harry doing his part to semi-organize his chosen box before heading out on the floor again. 

Maybe it was the rattling in his bones, or the vision of a peach colored bow that he saw every time he blinked, but something in Harry felt a little reckless when he peeked over at Theo focusing on his own box. 

"That girl," Harry rumbled, feeling odd in his skin as he spoke, "The one with the bows in her hair... She comes in a lot." 

Theo looked taken aback for a moment, his eyes wide with furrowed brows as he looked in Harry's direction. He even glanced over his shoulder as if there was anyone else there for the conversation to be aimed at. Harry had to keep from scoffing, dropping his gaze back to his working hands. 

Floundering over his words, Theo tried to catch up once he realized Harry was voluntarily talking. "Um, the one with bows in her hair?" 

Harry hummed in response. "She's in a couple of times a week." 

"Ohhh," Theo sounded, familiarity touching his tone, "You mean (Y/N)?" 

Harry swallowed at the sound of her name. He'd never asked for it himself. "If that's her name, yeah." 

From the corner of his eye, Harry could see Theo nodding his head some. "She comes in a lot, yeah. She's not good at keeping a list and always forgets stuff if she tries to do big shops, so she just comes in when she wants something or runs out." 

Though he didn't want this information to mean something to him, Harry felt a part of himself slowing being fulfilled the more details he learned. She didn't tell him these kinds of things when she rambled about her dinner choice for the night. 

Keeping his gaze tacked to his hands, Harry kept his words measured and calculated. "Oh," he started, "Is she from here?" 

"She's lived here forever, yeah. Why?" 

A beat passed as Harry opted to ignore the second part of Theo's response. He didn't need to have any details as to why Harry was asking after someone after working together for five months with only a handful of interactions. Even if he did want to share that, Harry didn't have any answers to that why, anyway. 

"Does she... What does she do?" Harry asked, the phrasing of his words feeling awkward falling out of his mouth. He was lucky he was so used to shielding his emotions and staying stoic, otherwise he would have cringed where he stood. 

"Like for work?" Theo asked, his eyes warm on Harry's profile. 

Lifting his shoulders, Harry only shrugged in response. It was probably a good idea to keep his mouth shut. 

"She—uh—she works at the bakery. She and my sister work there together," Theo told him, acting as if Harry was supposed to know what bakery he was talking about and who his sister was. "(Y/N)'s pretty nice, though." 

"Right," was all Harry offered by the time he finished organizing his box. He didn't bother to give anything more in response or wait for Theo to say more before he was walking out on the floor again. Even when he could feel his eyes stuck to his back.

No doubt would this interaction make its way to the rest of the team before the end of the shift. 

It was harmless curiosity, Harry argued. He just had to believe the harmless part. 

—————

#other #mine. #harry #harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing

[cherripieee]

Bloodlust - Eddie Munson x fem!vampire!reader

Part 1 - 'Teeth'

Eddie comes over for your usual movie night and after a night of confessions, Eddie tells you a secret, a dirty fantasy he has about a familiar creature.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: i've had this one in the drafts almost ALL SUMMER so i hope you guys enjoy! i had a fun time making this even though my writer's block made me change the format four fucking times-

warnings: reader is a vampire, 2nd person pov for this chapter, blood, biting, mentions of biting kink/fang kink, cursing

The end of another hot summer day is approaching, and you couldn’t be happier. Heat drags on the days with exhaustion and complete boredom, a scorching sun pairs along with the unbearable weather. Luckily, the sun begins to retire for the day and dusk is upon the sky. Not only are you glad that the weather gets cooler at night, but you’re also glad that your movie night with your best friend is happening tonight. Even though your movie nights happen almost every summer night, the two of you hadn’t planned one in almost two weeks. Responsibilities caught up to him and you couldn’t be mad at him for it. So, after a while, the two of you decided to get back on track with your hangouts. 

You’re actually relieved that he decided to go after his responsibilities. During those days, you had things to attend to. Those things included your urges and your hunger. No, not for food. For blood. You hadn’t tasted a drop of blood in months and your senses started to warn you about the consequences of not taking care of yourself. As a vampire, you knew you needed blood. But living in a small town like this made it hard to hunt for prey and get away with it. And no, you couldn’t just devour a helpless rabbit. You needed human blood, no other exceptions. Well, that was how your senses worked. It was either humans, or no food at all. 

So, you did what you had to do. One late night, you were walking around the neighborhood and a whiff of something delicious caught your attention. That scent had led you down the street, and now the cause of that whiff was right in front of you. In an alleyway, a guy has a woman pressed up against a wall. His lips are on her neck, from here you can see the woman tugging at the guy’s hair. Unrelated to the situation, this guy seriously had some great hair. You wanted to walk away and let the couple be, but that whiff got the better of you. You got closer. 

“Mmh, oh, Steve…” 

…Steve? Where have you heard that name before? 

Shaking off your thoughts, you stealthily sneaked behind the guy and peeked over his shoulder. Your back hits the brick wall, and now you’re just staring directly at the couple. Your senses are overwhelming, but you are used to it. Right on time, the woman opens her eyes. They squint at your dark figure for a moment. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Why’d you stop?” Steve asked, his words coming out breathless and raspy. The woman’s face twists into a look of pure horror as your eyes are now a piercing red. This was just step one. 

“It’s getting late…” The woman slowly unravels herself from Steve’s touch, stealing glances at the brick wall from where you’re watching. Your anticipation builds, igniting a feeling of butterflies deep down in your stomach. You can smell his scent and it smells amazing, it smells hot, and you even smell some sort of cologne. That’ll make the taste even better, you thought to yourself. “...I’ll call you!” 

Before the guy could even protest, she’s already off and speed-walking into another direction. You felt bad for interrupting their little interaction, but this guy smelled so damn good. Once you can’t hear the clicks of her heels hitting the ground, you know she’s long gone. You’re staring at Steve’s backside, running your tongue over your teeth. Sure enough, your fangs had come out just by the scent of him. That’s how you knew that this was gonna be good. Or you were just hungry. I mean, you hadn’t had any real food in a few months. 

“Fuck.” Steve mutters under his breath, catching your interest. Shouldn’t he be walking away? As of right now, usually the person would try to walk out until you stopped them and feasted on their blood. But he’s just standing there, looking down. 

No biggie, this just made things even easier for you. 

You carefully walked up to him, not even sure if you were controlling your own body or if it was your senses taking over. With every step, you felt yourself tapping more into your natural instincts. You didn’t care if he screamed, you just wanted a taste. You didn’t care if it got messy, you just NEEDED his skin against your teeth. 

As Steve begins to move, you pounce on him. You grip his shoulders and push him down to his knees, earning a yelp from him. “HEY! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” He screams, but you could care less about his threats. Licking your lips, you press your lips to the curve of his neck and trace your tongue around his skin until you find your favorite spot. Your favorite spot on a person was always the area a few inches below the ear. All vampires had a preference, or some just took whatever you could get. You, however, were a mix of both. He’s trying to fight back, you can tell. He’s wiggling around and screaming at you, and for help. He looked so helpless and that just heightened the feelings of your senses. 

“What the-” Were the last two words you heard as you sunk your fangs down into his skin, flavor bursting on your tongue. Just as you suspected, he tastes good. There’s blood streaming from your mouth and dribbling down to the back of his orange sweatshirt. Fuck, this is exactly what you needed. You gulp down each and every drop you can get, your nails sinking down into his sweater. Your senses had completely taken over and the only thing on your mind was: hunger. Steve’s quieted down, his eyes drooping low, and his energy suddenly drains. Unfortunately, you can’t keep at this for as long as you wanted to. You wanted a meal, but you weren’t a killer. You reluctantly pull away, red liquid drips from your fangs and onto his skin. 

Releasing your grip on him, the poor guy drops down to the floor on his back. He’s not exactly unconscious yet, but he’s getting there. He’s staring up at you with his eyes fluttering closed. You stay there and make sure his eyes are closed before wiping your mouth and heading out of the alleyway. Now, your hunger would be satiated for the next couple of months. 

…wait. WAS THAT STEVE HARRINGTON?! 

And now you’re here, at home setting up the living room for your movie night with your bestie. 

You cleaned up earlier and set up the area, he was going to bring the snacks. Snacks in his terms meant: beer, store bought chocolate chip cookies, a huge tub of vanilla ice cream, and more beer. So basically, you were always the one to have all the goods. 

There’s one large blanket draped over your couch, the one that you and him share on nights like these. He’s a HUGE blanket hog, but you don’t mind it. Even if that means that you have to freeze your ass off to make sure that he feels safe and comfortable in your home. He deserves it, he deserves everything. If it wasn’t clear enough, you were definitely crushing hard on your best friend. As much as you tried to deny it, you simply couldn’t. You’re in love with this man and obsessed with everything he does. Unfortunately, only being best buddies would have to do for now. 

About a half hour later than he was supposed to arrive, the door knocks. This was typical of him, so you weren’t bothered. After taking one last glance around the area and collecting yourself, you rush over to the door. You open it, and there he is. Your best friend, Eddie Munson. 

His head of curls is tied back into a ponytail, his brown doe eyes are soft as he gives you his signature warm smile. It almost makes you wanna sink your teeth into his face because he’s so damn cute…in a good way. 

“Sweetheart.” 

You give him a smile back, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Yeah?”

“...I forgot the beer.” 

~

Curled up together, thighs against his thighs and your head rests against his shoulder. You lived for this. Moments like these were the ones you savored because you knew that one day, Eddie would find someone else. He would find someone else to cuddle with and hangout with one day, and it wouldn’t be you. You wanted it to be, but…things don’t work out. Your last boyfriend got a glimpse of your fangs, and he asked you about it, so you came clean…let’s just say that he’s the sole reason why you moved to Hawkins. 

Part of you feels bad for not telling Eddie about your secret, he’s your best friend for God’s sake! But you promised your parents that you would be careful. And if you pissed them off, you’d be sent right back home. Even though you’re a grown adult, your parents had the last say in everything. 

Eddie’s chomping away at the brownies you made him and watching the movie peacefully, his fingertips gently caress your forearm. In that moment, you prayed that his touch didn’t leave a trail of goosebumps. As you thought that, you felt a pleasant shiver roll down your arm. You’re about to excuse yourself to the bathroom to cool off until Eddie sits up. 

He grabs the remote and turns off the tv which stops you from bolting to the bathroom, instead giving him a curious look.

“Didn’t like the movie?” You asked, looking up at him.

Eddie shakes his head, his head of curls whipping him right in the face. You try to hold back your laughter as he brushes it out of his face, and it’s the most awkward yet cutest thing you’ve ever seen. His ringed fingers go through his hair while he gives you that warm smile that he only saves for his closest friends. This guy didn’t know how pretty he actually was.

“Nah, it’s not that.” He replied, setting the tv remote on the table next to the couch the two of you were sitting on. “It’s been a while since we had one of these, I figured we could catch up.”

Your heart melts.

That should be the bare minimum of having a best friend, catching up with each other every second you got and checking up on each other. But you felt so helpless when it came to your feelings for Eddie.

“Alright.” You simply replied. “Let’s catch up.”

Eddie then fills you in on what’s been going on. There’s some girl (you already hate her) and apparently, she stood him up on his date to go and hook up with some guy in an alleyway.

“Who was it?!” You asked.

Eddie chomps on another brownie, giving you a smirk. “Steve Harrington, who else would it be?”

…that’s ironic.

You had caught Steve Harrington making out with some girl in an alleyway the night you attacked him.

Oh.

Your face flushes with embarrassment and you sink down into the couch, hiding your blush with a pillow. Thankfully, Eddie doesn't notice, and he continues talking.

"And weirdly enough, he got attacked by something almost right after." He added.

The fact that the "something" he was talking about was YOU made you feel bad, but you were lowkey happy because you got to hurt someone that hurt Eddie.

"What did he get attacked by?" You asked, acting as clueless as you can.

Eddie shrugged, brushing a few brownie crumbs from his shirt and onto the floor which you'll sweep up later.

"Well, I talked to Steve earlier today when I stopped by Family Video, and he had a bandage on his neck. He told me the last thing he remembered was seeing a pair of red eyes." He explained.

That's what most people usually remember when they get bit by a vampire. It's either a pair of red eyes or a dark figure. If they noticed anything else, you clearly did something wrong. If you aren't careful enough, you could end up getting yourself hurt...or even killed.

You're always careful.

"What do you think attacked him?" You asked, curiously.

Eddie was lost in thought for a moment, his ringed fingers tapping against the arm of the couch. This action made you sit up straight, holding the pillow in your lap.

What was he not telling you?

As his best friend, you knew the signs of when Eddie was hiding something.

His chocolate brown eyes are gazing down at his fingers, sometimes stealing a glance at the black screen of the television.

His other hand is fidgeting with the fabric of a white fluffy pillow, picking at the fur.

"...Eddie?"

The sound of your voice startles him as he looks up, giving you a sheepish look. "Sorry, lost in thought."

Eddie lets out the world's longest and dramatic sigh, his head falling into your lap as he looks up at you. Why did he have to be so damn cute?!

"You're so dramatic." You say, ruffling his hair a bit.

"And you love it." He retorts quickly, flashing you a cheeky grin.

"And I love you, Eddie Munson." is what you want to say, but you can't.

Instead of that, you simply roll your eyes and push him off of you. He lands on the ground with a soft thud, bringing the whole blanket down with him.

"Hey! I bought that blanket, y'know."

Eddie laughs, covering himself with the blanket. He wraps it around his whole body while keeping his eyes on you, that same cheeky grin stays on his face. "Come and get it."

You immediately rush down to the floor, trying to rip the blanket from his grasp. Eddie's surprisingly very strong, despite his lanky form. But your vampire strength gives you an advantage. The bad news is that if you went too hard, let's just say that you would actually rip the blanket.

The two of you play around for a bit, smiling, laughing and teasing each other before laying on the floor in a heap of breathy giggles. Your legs are tangled together, and the blanket is thrown somewhere around the two of you.

The silence is comfortable and content.

The moment was calm and quiet.

"...I think a vampire attacked Steve."

...never mind.

“Vampire?” You said, trying to sound as clueless as possible. 

“Yeah, I mean, what else could it be? Plus, with all the shit we’ve been through, we shouldn’t rule it out too quickly.” Eddie explained. 

You nodded along to his words, even though there was a pit forming in your stomach, filled with nervousness and dread. 

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, absorbing the quietness. Hawkins was pretty peaceful at this time of night. You could hear the faint noises of cars passing by, but that was all the noise you could hear. Just as you’re about to close your eyes, you hear something. 

Something out of Eddie’s mouth that makes your eyes go wide. 

“Do ya think that getting bit by a vampire would feel good?” 

…woah. 

You sit up immediately, tilting your head to the side and giving him a confused look. 

“Uh, no? It probably hurts like hell.” 

Another moment of silence forms, and this time you’re not calm. You’re conflicted, confused yet curious all at the same time. Was Eddie into vampires? Everyone in Hawkins knew that Eddie was a freak, liking things that no other person would. But, honestly, having a biting kink was completely fine and normal. 

But having a thing for VAMPIRES? 

…it’s a problem considering the fact that YOU’RE a vampire. 

You snap out of your thoughts, hearing a little rant from Eddie as he makes wild and dramatic gestures with his hands. 

“But that’s the thing, would it hurt so bad that it would feel good? Imagine the mark it would leave afterwards, sweetheart. Did you not see Steve’s bandage? That shit was big.” 

You can only reply by hitting him with a nearby pillow, earning a yelp and a glare from your best friend. 

“Alright, you little masochist, it’s time for you to skedaddle.” 

Usually Eddie would spend the night, but you can’t face him after what he had just said. You didn’t know if you could even control yourself from giving into his desires…and your own. 

Eddie raises his hands in mock defense, getting up and grabbing his leather jacket from the back of the couch. He’s smiling, as if he hadn’t just told you that he wanted a vampire to bite into his skin and leave a mark. 

You walk him to the door, as you always do, with your arms crossed and the chilly Hawkin’s air hits you almost immediately as you step outside. It’s a great way to cool off, especially after tonight. 

Eddie pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you. 

His scent. 

His fucking scent. 

You close your eyes and lean into him, getting a whiff of his smell. This was definitely weird, but you couldn’t help it. Part of you wants to know what he tastes like, what he feels like… 

…but you won’t ever know. 

Clearing your throat, you break away from his embrace and watch him get into his car, giving him one final wave as he drives away in his truck. You can already hear the loud rock music slowly fading away in the distance. 

“...fuck.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson story #eddie munson stranger things #vampire reader #vampire girl #fangs #imagines #eddie munson imagine #bloodlust #part one #eddieeddieeddie #vampire aesthetic #gabriela #gxbby #mwah

[mignonricciardo]

compromised | lh44

I got totally carried away with this… I started this after the car launch and it got out of hand so that is why this is 10k words of nothing but smut and pining

summary: after george finds the communications director and lewis in a compromising position, they try to be more careful as the season drags on. too bad lewis’ yacht isn’t as private as they thought.

notes: fingering, p in v, cursing, risky public sex, caught in the act, mostly smut tbh

Despite my best effort, I couldn’t tear my eyes from the man on the other side of the slick car. How silly to be ogling over a man that had just whispered shameless promises into my ear with everyone around. I was supposed to be unphased, but here I am turning red on the other side of the camera as the man stands illuminated beneath lights. When his eyes briefly meet mine as he shoots a glance my way, a slight smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. His earrings catch the light, and the stud in his nose glints. It feels stifling in the room as they shoot the car launch, and the heat only rises up my neck the longer I stare at Lewis in his black team shirt that clings to his chest. Tattoos peek out from the team shirt, and my fingers itch to trace the ink like muscle memory. His words from earlier replay over and over in my head.

I can’t wait to catch you after this, and make you break underneath me until you forget we’re at the office. 

I’m finding myself increasingly desperate for the car launch to be over, and when the show finally ends, I take a deep breath. It’s a relief when Lewis finally leaves the set, and I feel like I can clear my  thoughts. George’s press officer and communications manager sneak up to my side, calling my name as Lewis’ words still ping around in my brain. When one of them snaps their fingers in front of my face, I finally come to, offering them a smile. 

“Sorry,” I shake my head. “It’s been such a long day with the launch.”

“We’ve always got coffee on if you want some,” one of them smiles before confirming our meeting later in the day. 

Either they don’t notice my red cheeks or they don’t comment on them, and the pair walk away. I heave a sigh, fingers pressing to my eyelids, before weaving through the hallways back to my office. A part of me wants to find Lewis just to tease him back, but the logical part of my brain warns against finding the driver. Logic wins, and I shut the door behind me softly, sighing loudly once the latch clicks. I check the thermostat in my office, fanning my face as heat still radiates from the scrutiny of his stare. After a few minutes of quiet, I settle at my desk with papers sprawled in front of me and both monitors glaring at me with work. Thoughts of Lewis and his lewd language drift away as I’m sucked back into work, the rhythmic tapping of my keyboard becoming ambient noise in the office. 

I barely register the click of my office door, but my eyes meet Lewis as he waltzes in, smile on his face and coffee cup in hand. 

“It’s a good-looking car,” I comment before he even shuts the door to my office.

The smirk on his face tells me he’s here to talk about something else, “It’s a sexy car, yeah?”

His gaze holds mine as he approaches my desk with a mischievous smile. I try to keep the conversation going despite my distracted thoughts. He sets the coffee cup down on my desk, and I thank him before taking a sip. 

“I can’t believe we’re already back and getting ready for testing,” I shuffle some papers on my desk to look busy. “I miss being on break with you.”

He leans against the corner of my desk before bringing his hand up to my face. His fingers brush a lock of hair away from my cheek, and I mentally scold myself as I lean into his touch mindlessly. 

“I wish we had another week in Colorado,” he whispers, thumb dragging across my cheek. “Just us. No cares about anyone else. I can’t wait to whisk you away again over summer break. Our little secret.”

When his thumb moves to my lips, the rough pad brushing against my skin lightly, my breath hitches. His eyes are intent on my features as his thumb rests on the inside of my bottom lip. My mouth closes around his digit gently, and he groans as he drags it down my lip to rest the wet digit on my chin. 

“You know what I miss most about our little getaway?” his voice is quiet as he hovers over me, eyes cast down to mine. 

I hum in response, missing the feel of his fingers against my mouth. With his proximity and the memory of his words before the show, all my defenses and logic fall away. I become a submissive mess beneath his gaze and gentle touches. 

“Fucking wherever and whenever we wanted,” his voice rasps but his facial features give nothing away. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

My eyes meet his with his hand still cupping my cheek. He smiles softly as his voice drops, “Which time are you thinking about?”

“The piano,” I whisper, eyes never leaving his intent gaze, “and the hot tub.”

“Good choices,” he grins, fingers pushing hair back away from my face. 

HIs fingers linger across my skin, and my muscles quiver as I sit as still as possible, waiting for him to decide to make his move. HIs thumb brushes across my lips again before fingertips graze underneath my jaw. The rough pads of his fingers grace across my throat, and a surprised gasp breaks past my lips.

My fingers fidget in my lap as I whine, “Lewis.”

“I’m thinking about the patio,” he speaks lowly, fingers tracing my collarbone which disappears beneath my matching Mercedes team shirt, “with the fire place.”

Memories flash at his words, recalling the innumerable times Lewis had me falling apart over the winter break. He leans down, his lips replacing his fingers as they brush mine. I breathe deeply at the contact, pressing my lips to his and relishing in the moment of intimacy. My fingers make their way to the back of his neck, tugging gently at his braids as he dominates the kiss.

“I have a meeting soon,” I gasp for air against him. “George and his communications team will be here.”

“How soon is soon?” he mutters, fingers grasping at my breast beneath my shirt, crumpling the team logo on my chest. 

“In 15 minutes,” I breathe as my head tips back, his fingers making their way down my shirt and toward my pants. “You should leave in 10.”

“I’ll have to be quick then,” he grins, fingers working at the button on my black slacks. 

“Lewis,” his name leaves my lips as more of a plea than the intended warning. 

“I couldn’t focus during the car launch with you biting your lip and moving behind the camera,” he grunts, fingers making quick work of my pants. “Trying my best to pay attention.”

“It’s your fault,” I breathe as I lift my hips for him to tug at my waistband. “You’re the one that was talking about how you couldn’t wait to fuck me.”

He chuckles against my neck, “I think I said I couldn’t wait to have you breaking beneath me, love. You make it sound so vulgar. Such dirty words from such a pretty mouth.”

I whimper at his words, hips searching for contact as his hand ghosts my inner thigh. Words fail me as my head swims, trying to find sense in the feeling of Lewis all around me. His hands work at my thighs, fingers tracing across the revealed skin as his thumb skims my covered core. Lewis chuckles darkly as his thumb stills.

“Already so desperate for me,” he grins, crouching in front of me to stare where his thumb was hovering. “So eager to break underneath me.”

“Lewis, please,” I gasp as his thumb presses more firmly against me. “I have to leave soon.”

“Please what?” he whispers. “Use your words for me, love.”

My fingers grasp desperately at the arm of my office chair, “Touch me. Anything you’ll give me.”

He laughs again at my vulnerable state, with words flying and any sense of formality out the window. His fingers finally obey as they push my underwear to the side. Cold air rushes toward my core, and I groan as his warm digits finally press into the place that is throbbing for him. My fingers clutch his wrist. He makes quick work of me, actually heeding my warning about time, and his tattooed forearm flexes as his fingers slide through my slick folds. 

He chuckles as my fingers desperately grasp at the office chair while my lungs gasp for air, “You walk around like you own the place--all high and mighty--but you’re really just waiting for someone to put you in your place.”

“It’s why I have you.”

Despite the signals misfiring from my brain to my mouth from the pleasure Lewis bestows upon me, a layer of sarcasm still manages to operate correctly. I breathe the words before I even realize they’re falling past my lips, and my eyes find his lustful gaze. 

“That’s it, huh?” he grins. “You challenge me because at the end of the day, you know what I’ll do to you.”

His fingers continue their torturous movements, gliding from a slow caress to slipping into me with gentle pumps. I look down to watch his tattooed fingers disappear within me, and I nod my head wildly to agree with him. 

“And what do I do to you, love?” he grins, lips close to my ear as his breath fans across my neck. “I want to hear you say it.”

“You fuck me until I only remember your name,” I groan, eyes shutting as the pleasure mounts from his languid pumps. 

His lips spread deeper into a smirk, “Listening to me for once. I like you like this.”

“I thought you liked me defiant,” I whimper as his thumb presses into my clit again. 

His movements slow to a torturous pace, “Sometimes, love. It’s cute when you’re defiant because I know how easy you are to break.”

“Lewis, please,” I gasp, fingernails sinking into his wrist as a plea for him to continue his ministrations. “Please don’t stop.”

“I thought you had a meeting soon,” his tone is teasing as his fingers stop entirely, pressing against my walls in slow movements instead of their deep strokes. 

“Please, I’ll do anything,” I gasp as I clench his hand. “Fuck, Lewis please. Please make me cum.”

“Such an act,” he mutters with a wicked smile. “Imagine George and his team knew you were like this. Their bossy executive begging for my fingers. Someone so in control and powerful falling apart under my touch—begging for me to make her cum.”

I go to answer, but Lewis suddenly resumes his lewd actions. My head falls back against my office chair as he stretches me beyond my limit. His other hand works quick circles into my clit, and my skin feels like it’s on fire as I rapidly approach the edge. Desperate moans fall past my lips, and his name grows in volume as it leaves my tongue. My legs start to spasm beneath me, and he chuckles as I beg him to push me over the edge. 

“Go ahead, love,” he says against my jaw, lips brushing my heated skin. “Wish they could hear you.”

His lips crush mine to absorb the obscene moans coming from my lips, and stars burst behind my eyelids as I gasp for air into the crushing kiss. Warmth erupts from the base of my spine and spreads to my toes and scalp. My brain chants his name repeatedly, and my lips move clumsily against his as my eyes screw shut. His one hand continues to rub slowing circles on my clit while his other clutches my jaw. His digits are still wet with my arousal as they press into my cheek. Desperate pleas begin to fall from my parted lips as he breaks away for air, and his thumb continues its slow torment on my overstimulated core. The air is humid with sex, and I can hear his fingers slipping between my soaked folds. 

“Lewis,” I whine quietly, struggling to come back to my senses with his fingers against me and lips pressed against my neck.

“One more minute,” he whispers as his nose brushes down my throat. 

As I try to respond to him, with fingers toying at his pulled-back braids, a knock on my office door resounds. Before I even have time to process what is happening, the door handle clicks. George peers into my office, and he sees the mortified look on my face before shouting a quick apology and shutting the door. Luckily, Lewis’ hand against my sex is hidden beneath my desk, but the other driver has definitely seen my hands in his idol’s hair with his lips against my neck. He even heard his name falling from my lips in gasps of air. He may not have seen everything, but it was clear what had been happening. Lewis is ripping his hand away from me by the time the door shuts, and his eyes are wide despite the quiet chuckle that comes from his lips.

“I could fucking kill you,” I mutter. “How the fuck am I supposed to explain this?”

“Be honest,” he whispers with a grin, pressing one last kiss to my jaw to elicit a moan in spite of my anger. “Tell him how you’re so powerful until I’m in the room and you’re crumbling and begging for me.”

“Fuck you,” I spit at him. “I’m serious, Lewis.”

“There’s no denying it to him, but I’ll talk to him first,” he kisses my cheek sweetly. “I’ll catch him in the hall. Best button your pants to get ready for your meeting.”

I tuck my hair behind my ears as he begins walking away from my desk, wiping his fingers on the pocket of his pants. I watch his frame as he approaches the door.

“Lewis?” I ask, and he spins around with raised brows. “Thank you for the coffee. Even though you’ve made my life infinitely harder now, I appreciate you.”

“Life definitely just got interesting,” he grins mischievously. “Good luck in your meeting, love. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

As the door shuts behind him, I hear him greet George, and blood rushes to my face as my heart pounds. I take a moment in my office to gather my thoughts and make sure I look presentable. I smooth out my hair and my team shirt that Lewis crushed beneath his rough palms. I flick on the oil diffuser next to my monitors. Lord knows I could use some lavender to calm me down and mask the sex in the air. With another deep breath, I open my office door to see George and Lewis at the end of the hallway. The tattooed driver claps George on the back as he walks away, turning to me with a smile that George catches. The young driver makes his way toward me, mouth open with an apology ready. I hold a hand up to stop him, waving him into my office before he can begin.

“I’m sorry, George,” I start. “That was wildly unprofessional of us, and I’m sure uncomfortable for you. You have to understand that I take my job very seriously, and I value my role within this team.”

George just looks at me incredulously, “I never doubted it. Please, don’t worry about me. Lewis filled me in a bit. Your secret is safe with me.”

My toughened demeanor softens a bit at his understanding, “I truly appreciate that, George. I prefer how things are right now.”

“My mum and my girlfriend would approve,” he grins. “They both have massive crushes on him.”

“There’s no way you just told me that,” I laugh at his comment, finding his youthful energy refreshing. 

He laughs along with me, “After what I’ve just witnessed? I think anything I say will get a pass for a couple weeks.”

“With me, yes. Your team and the media? That’s a different story.”

Ever since George caught us in my office at HQ, Lewis and I have been extra careful in our meetings. I made team spaces strictly off limits after George made a cheeky remark at the W-13 shakedown when I held a meeting with Lewis about media availability. He walked through the garage with a sly grin on his face, and I stood in the corner with a slight blush on my cheeks. Lewis tried to stifle laughter at his teammate’s comments while I stood turning bright red in the garage, and the rest of the team didn’t even bat an eye.  

Despite the disappointing race for Lewis in Monaco, he still wanted to celebrate with the team for George’s performance and the team’s improvements. He invites me just like the rest of the communications department, but he adds a sly wink to his comments that only I catch. The entire time he is working his way through the hospitality suite, inviting team member after team member, I struggle to pay attention to anything other than the way his black fireproofs cling to his chest and his earrings glint in the light. I say a mental thank you when the tattooed driver exits the suite back toward his motorhome to change.  

The yacht is full of out of uniform team members. It looks like the Mercedes garage minus the team logo. I step on to the boat with Toto and Susie, chatting with the Scot about events back in the UK as her husband helps us from the dock to the swaying vessel. She compliments the sundress I am wearing opposite to her white jumpsuit, and Toto makes a comment about the warm weather Monaco is experiencing. Just as I am about to answer my boss and friend, Lewis appears around the deck with a wide smile.

“You’ve made it,” he grins, hugging all three of us quickly. 

He makes sure to keep his hands from lingering on me as he pulls away, something he was finding difficult with the sundress on my body, “I’m so glad you came. I wasn’t sure you’d make time for it.”

Toto chuckles at Lewis’ comment directed at me, and I respond with a smile and sarcasm, “I’ve always got time for you, Sir Hamilton.”

The married pair next to us laughs wildly as the driver looks at me, the look in his eyes not going unnoticed, “I’ll have to remember that.”

Lewis guides the three of us back toward the large deck on his yacht, and when the Wolffs sit on one of the plush seats, Lewis offers to get them a drink. He asks if I’ll help him to leave the two a private moment, and I nod as Susie thanks us. Lewis’ arm brushes mine as he guides us toward the bar. His hands instinctively settle at the small of my back when a partygoer bumps into me, and his large hands steady me. They don’t leave my side until I lean against the wood finish of the bar. 

“I like your dress,” he says nonchalantly after ordering, eyes focused ahead where more people are entering the yacht. 

He knows exactly what he is doing as a smirk plays at the end of his lips. I glance at him from the corner of my eye, taking in his creme pants and sheer shirt. Jewelry adorns his body, and my eyes catch the rings on his fingers as they slide across the bar top.

“Still protesting the FIA?” I grin as the bartender slides the wine and champagne to us. 

“Somewhat,” his smirk is full-fledged now. “I remember someone saying they like these rings, so I wear them when I get the chance now.”

My cheeks light up with red as I look more closely at the rings on his delicately tattooed hands. The silver rings glint in the light of fledgling sunset, pressed against the cool champagne flutes. It’s like I can feel the imprint those hands left on the sides of my throat the longer I stare at his fingers, and memories of the cool metal against my skin surface. He chuckles quietly at my ogling, an arm wrapping around my waist suddenly as he pulls me away from an already buzzed partygoer as he comes barreling toward the bar. The champagne tips over the top of the flute lightly, dripping down my knuckles in a short ravine. I bring my hand to my lips, locking eyes with him briefly as I lick the sweet alcohol from my skin before thanking him for pulling me out of the way. 

“Does this count as a team space?” he asks quietly, glancing around before his eyes return back to mine. 

His gaze is hard as his arm around my waist loosens, and I make a mental note about how I’ve made him react.

“Inherently, no,” I start, holding back a frown as his arm drops from my waist as we head back toward our waiting friends. “With everyone here, yes.”

“How about in a few hours when everyone is drunk and the sun has set entirely?” his voice is gruff. “I’m sure you remember some of the more private places on the yacht.”

Images flash of previous times on his boat--laying out on the back deck covered by a beach towel, the couch on the interior when it started raining, the hot tub. He grins as he looks at my glazed over gaze, and he nudges me gently across the threshold to the deck with his knee.

“Good girl,” he comments quietly, and my fingers tighten around the champagne flutes in my hands. “You do remember.”

My mouth opens to answer, but with his praise pinging around in my head, my tongue fails me. I close my parted lips, nodding gently at him before continuing across the umber deck. Behind him, his eyes watch my every movement across the deck as we approach our friends, and his jaw hardens as my dress blows in the sea breeze, revealing more and more of my thighs as I walk. 

“We were just talking about the two of you!” Susie smiles broadly as we appear, taking a glass for her and Toto out of my hands. “We were thinking of another brief vacation over the summer break like a few years ago. Remember the villas in Italy?”

Lewis has to hold back a grin when my shoulders visibly tense. That trip is what started whatever this entanglement is between the two of us, and our friends have no idea that what they planned as an innocent retreat had done the exact opposite of its intentions. His hands brush mine as he grabs both glasses--one for him and one for me--and he directs me to sit on the plush bench with a nod.

“I loved the villas,” I try to recover a sense of composure, but I’m painfully aware of his eyes on me. “They were so peaceful and quiet.”

“And massive,” Lewis comments, sitting next to me so that I’m caged in between him and Susie. “I swear I could hardly hear you on the other side of the villa.”

I swallow thickly as flashes from that trip start in my head, and I nervously smooth out the material of my dress to occupy my hands. Lewis watches my fingers press down on the fabric over my thighs.

“I’m sorry again about sticking you two in there together,” Susie starts after taking a sip of her wine. “I still swear the booking said three bedrooms, not two.”

“No way was I making you both fight over who got the bed and who got the couch,” Toto laughs, arm wrapped around his wife. “I think sharing the villa brought you both a little closer, though. I like to take credit for that, at least.”

“I think we learned about each other on that trip,” Lewis smirks, one of his hands resting on my lower back and hidden from the couple next to us. “I learned she’s not as bossy as she seems, and she’s actually willing to listen to someone else for once.”

My jaw nearly drops as Lewis reveals the information from that fated trip, and my brain freezes as flashes of our lust-filled trip clog my reason. That was when Lewis learned about my desire for approval, and when praise fell from his mouth, I practically fell to my knees. The bill sent to Lewis for the broken items from the villa was a testament to our newfound relationship. 

“I learned that all you have to do is stroke his ego, and he’ll do whatever I ask,” I fire back, smirking when his fingertips press into my back with more force. “Sure, we were already friends we had been working together so long, but there had been some hiccups along the way. Italy really worked out the kinks in that relationship.”

It’s his turn for his jaw to harden as he bites down on his back molars, grinding his teeth to draw attention to something other than my words. I try not to laugh as the couple next to us touch hands and smile, believing they had helped forge the strengthened friendship of Lewis and me. They had brought us together in Italy, but there was much more to that trip than they know about. It’s still hard to believe they couldn’t hear us from their balcony.

“That was one of my favorite trips,” he smiles as he takes another sip of champagne from his glass. “I think my most recent trip to Colorado is my favorite, though.”

My stomach drops, knowing the teasing is far from over at the mention of Colorado. 

“The pictures looked stunning!” Susie smiles at Lewis. “I’m sure it was much needed to clear your head.”

“You met up with him for a bit, right?” Toto looks at me, a certain look in his eye that causes dread to pool in my stomach. 

I nod my head, “I was headed out to Utah for some retreat after the season. I made a pit stop in Colorado to check in with Lewis.”

His voice suddenly softens as his eyes hold a sincere look to them, “I was grateful she stopped by. Obviously, I wasn’t in the best place following the end of the season, and she made sure to treat me as she would any other time. Plus, it was nice to catch up outside of the paddock.”

I notice Susie elbow her husband gently at Lewis’ confession, and I can’t help but feel my heart quicken in my chest. I turn to him with a genuine smile, but a coyness plays in my gaze and in my words.

“It was nice to catch up, yeah?” I turn to the Wolffs, laying a hand on Lewis’ forearm as I speak. “We skied a bit, and I got to see the mysterious cabin we hear about all the time. My favorite part about it was this outdoor patio and fireplace. He surprised me, honestly. I was worried about him after the season, but he was more concerned with my wellbeing following the grueling season than his.”

It’s Toto’s turn to elbow his wife at my words, and Susie beams at us, “We haven’t even seen the infamous cabin. I swear you’re the only person who has.”

Lewis leans forward to glare at his boss and his wife, “She was already on the way out. Next time you find yourselves on the west coast, give me a call and you’ll get the tour.”

The pair next to us laugh, and I find myself trying not to lean into Lewis’ side. Eventually, the pair head off to greet more guests on Lewis’ yacht, and the driver extends a hand out to help me up from my spot on the plush bench. A brisk breeze blows through the deck, sending my hair and dress billowing around me. Lewis watches with baited breath, biting back a smile as the sun dips closer to the horizon. His hand lingers in mine, pulling away once I’ve smoothed out the material around my hips.

“I should go greet all of my guests,” he states matter-of-factly, eyes locked on mine.

“Don’t let me hold you up,” I smile gently, reaching for his empty champagne flute. 

He pulls it back from my reach, “I’ll get us another glass. They’ve waited this long for me to greet them. What’s a little longer?”

I can’t help but stare as he walks away from the bar, jewelry and sheer shirt sparkling beneath the last rays of orange sun and yacht lights. My eyes linger on his delicately tattooed fingers curled around the glass in his hand. I mingle with other team members, drinking a few more glasses of the sweet alcohol, but my thoughts never stray too far from the British owner of the yacht. As the night continues, I find myself growing tired of the constant commotion in the Monaco harbor. My forearms press against the smooth railing, and I lean my weight into the structure keeping me from the Mediterranean below. My eyes follow gentle waves lapping against the side of the yacht.

“I think he’s got a soft spot for you.”

I turn to look at Susie who stands next to me, holding out a glass of water which I graciously accept.

“Who?” I ask her, sipping from the glass in my hand.

She leans into the railing with a laugh, “Don’t be daft. Lewis, you knob.”

I smile gently, shaking my head as I look back to the sea, “We’re just similar, Susie. I think we understand each other more than we’d like to admit.”

“Please,” she scoffs as I turn back to her. “I see how you both look at each other. I’m not sure what’s going on there, but it’s something. I’ve caught both of you with that look ever since Bahrain.”

I laugh at her, trying to hide the nerves suddenly settling in my stomach, “What look?”

“I’m not sure what the look is exactly, but you both do it. Your eyes sometimes follow each other when you think other people aren’t paying attention, or you’ll both share a look that is quick but telling. It’s obvious you’re dying to get each other alone,” her elbow prods me gently with her words. “Don’t try to tell me I’m being delusional, either. I did enough of that with Toto to know.”

I try to find an excuse--some reason as to dispel her observations or shift her conclusions--but nothing comes to me. I stare at her, slack-jawed and glossy-eyed, with an empty champagne flute in one hand and a glass of water in the other. My voice shakes with her revelation, both in fear of being caught by others and fear of my emotions being caught by Lewis.

“Is it obvious?”

Susie places a hand on my forearm gently, shaking her head with a soft smile, “No, but you know you could have told me, yeah? I don’t tell Toto everything.”

I nod my head, “I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just complicated in ways you wouldn’t believe.”

“I’m sure it is, considering your roles and responsibilities--what’s proper and what isn’t,” she nods. “But I’m here to talk about it if you want. I’m here as a friend, not as a team principal.”

I turn to her, holding one of her hands in mine, “Thank you, Susie.”

She nods, squeezing my hand back, “Of course. This is clearly weighing on you.”

I take a deep breath, looking around to make sure no one is too close before beginning, “It actually started in the villas on the trip we were talking about earlier. It was an accident, but we both were a little tipsy and we had been arguing all day. Tensions came to a head, and we ended up sleeping together.”

Her jaw drops, “Oh my god, you so fucked on the balcony, didn’t you?”

I nod my head with a cringe, and she answers back in a hushed whisper, “I swore to Toto I heard you guys out there, and it sounded a little friendly we’ll say, but he told me to just go back to bed!”

“I told him we had to stop--it was just a vacation thing and everything would be normal back at the track,” I begin again. “It worked for a bit, but then we were celebrating the 2017 championship, and it happened again. I guess it’s been happening ever since then.

It’s easy, yeah? We’re always working and traveling. We trust each other. He knows what I like, and I know what he likes. It just makes our time on the road a little easier and less lonely. Plus, it’s fun to sneak around sometimes.”

She grins wildly, “I’m just dying to know. How is it?”

“Life changing,” I grin at her, and she squeals like a schoolgirl. “Like jaw dropping, earth shattering, voice gone.”

“I’m assuming you’re still seeing each other sometimes,” her eyebrows raise. “Is that what Colorado was about?”

I nod gently, biting back a smile as her jaw drops, “So, I actually went with him out of concern following the season. I didn’t want him to be alone up there, and I knew Toto would give me the okay to work remotely for a bit. It essentially turned into a sex fest.”

She laughs at my comment, clutching her chest as she laughs, “I should’ve known you were getting it somewhere. You were way too laid back over the break every time I talked to you.”

“It was nice to spend that time with him, though,” I say. “Time to just be whatever it is that we are instead of sneaking into his driver’s room or my office at HQ.”

“You’re joking,” she starts. “His driver’s room and the motorhome? Your office? You’ve not been caught yet?”

I cringe at her words, “Okay, so, reminder that this is as my friend, not as my boss’ wife and partner in crime.”

She nods, “I’m scared, but I’m listening.”

I take a deep breath, rushing through my words as if she won’t be as upset if they come out quicker, “George may or may not have caught us in my office after the car launch.”

“Oh my god,” she breathes out, fingers pressed to her forehead. “I can’t believe how risky you’ve gotten.”

“It’s his fault!” my voice raises in volume, drawing the attention of some people which causes me to grow quiet again. “It’s like he completely clouds my judgment. I can’t get enough.”

“Well, based on what I’ve seen tonight, I’d say the same for him,” she starts. “He can’t take his eyes off you with that dress. Did you wear it on purpose?”

“What do you mean?” I ask her. “I wanted to dress up some for the yacht, and I thought this dress gave a Mediterranean feel.”

“It does, but it also makes your ass look good and gives him easy access,” she says with a shrug. “Have you not heard what they say about sundresses?”

 I shake my head as my friend responds, “All you need to know is that he hasn’t looked away from you all night. If I had to guess, he wants to fuck you on his yacht if he hasn’t already.”

My cheeks burn red, “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely!” she elbows me. “I think you should go find him, and you’ll see I’m right.”

“So, you want me to find Lewis to see if he’ll fuck me on his yacht?”

“Oh, I already know he will, I just want to see if I’m right about the sundress. It’s a hypothesis I’m testing with Toto,” Susie grins as she nudges me toward the bar.

“Susie!”

Hey eyebrows quirks, “After everything you just told me, I think I’m allowed to tell you that.”

She pushes me again toward the bar, turning away and making her way back to her husband as I step across the deck into the plush interior of Lewis’ yacht. He leans against the counter of the bar, ring-adorned fingers around a glass of water, as he speaks to some guests I don’t recognize. When he sees me approaching, dress blowing in the breeze making its way off the ocean, he smiles widely, introducing me to the people he was talking to. I stand by his side as he finishes his conversation, offering responses and head nods where appropriate. I try to hang on to the conversation, barely catching questions about my work as I become acutely aware of the driver next to me.

“She’s the best in the business,” Lewis smiles, answering on my behalf. “She keeps my ass in line and on time. We’re lucky to have her on the team.”

The guests laugh at his comment, with one of them in a designer dress shirt speaking up, “I’m sure she keeps you busy then with all your media.”

He grins broadly, “And other things. I do pretty much whatever she asks.”

I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek at his words, and my arms rests on the bartop to keep my knees from giving out. It’s a smooth transition that doesn’t draw any attention from the guests, but Lewis notices immediately.

“It’s a good working relationship,” I nod my head. “We both understand what makes each other tick, so we know our boundaries pretty well. I oversee the communications of the team, but I pay special attention to Lewis’ schedule.”

“We’ve pretty much grown up in the team together,” he smiles, but there is a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve learned a lot about her since we first started working together.”

The guests ask the driver more questions, but I lose all focus on them when his hand brushes the back of my thigh, dipping beneath the fabric of my dress and hidden from the view of the guests in front of me. His cool rings ghost across my skin, and I breathe in sharply as the metal sends goosebumps across my skin. One of the guests notices, and she looks at me with concern in her eyes.

“Are you alright?” her voice is gentle and gaze soft.

Mentally, I want to turn around and kick Lewis in the shins for being this risky, but all I can manage is a weak nod of my head as I focus on his fingertips on my skin. 

“Just feeling a bit seasick,” I muster. “The champagne isn’t settling great, either.”

Lewis bids a goodbye to the guests, promising to take me for some fresh air. I say goodbye to them as we pass, and Lewis is sure not to let his hands linger as we walk past them. My brain is hazy as we make our way back toward the deck, and goosebumps continue erupting on my skin from his touch and the sea breeze. I’m grateful for the darkening sky to help hide my red cheeks, and I take a deep breath of the cool air before turning to face him. 

Words fail me when he comes into view, and I stare at his features beneath the glittering lights of Monaco. Warm light from the interior of the yacht illuminates his skin in an amber glow, and his jewelry glints as he shifts in front of me. His tattoos peek out from beneath his sheer shirt, and my fingers itch to trace along the familiar ink. He has a braid tucked behind each ear, and he runs a hand across his beard as he watches me with a hard gaze.

“Can this not be a team space anymore?” I whisper, barely loud enough for him to hear over the partygoers that remain.

He smirks as he leans in a bit closer, my eyes never leaving his face, “That’s your decision, love. You’re calling the shots.”

I look around at the remaining guests, seeing Susie and Toto across on deck on the other side of the yacht. He has his arm around her as they lean into the railing, laughing about something as we pass other boats. 

“I told Susie about this,” I whisper, voice quiet as he looks at me. “Tonight. She asked me about it.”

I anticipate a reaction from him, but he just looks at me with his stoic expression, voice steady with a rasp working its way through his words, “What did she ask?”

“She said she thinks you have a soft spot for me,” my voice grows even quieter as he takes another step closer to me, blocking me from the rest of the partygoers. “She said she’s seen the look we give each other.”

“And what are these looks that Susie sees?” his voice falls deeper, eyes boring into mine. 

“Ones that scream we want to get each other alone,” I mumble, breathing deeply as his chest brushes against mine. 

“And what else did you tell Susie about us, love, hm?” he asks with a dark look in his eye. “Did you tell her how willing you are for me? All I have to do is call you my pretty girl and you’ll go weak in the knees?”

My eyes flutter shut at his words, and I bite my cheek to keep from doing anything that will draw the attention of the other guests, “I told her about the balcony in Italy, and I told her why I went to Colorado. I told her about the office when George came in.”

Lewis smirks, taking another glance around the remaining guests, “Why don’t you be good, and head up toward the upper deck, yeah? When we’re done, you can tell her all about how I ruined you on my yacht with half the team on it.”

“Lewis,” I breathe deeply, eyes meeting his as my thighs press together beneath my dress. 

He catches my movement, and his fingers suddenly rest on the small of my back. They sink into the light fabric blowing in the breeze, and I shiver when I can feel his body heat radiating through the thin fabric. 

“I’ll tell everyone you were feeling ill,” he reassures me, fingers lightly pushing against the small of my back to nudge me forward. “I’m just being a good friend and taking care of you.”

His voice changes a bit at the word friend, and my feet follow the momentum of his push as I take hesitant steps across the deck. Guests blur by me as I focus on the pathway toward the upper deck, and I don’t stop when Lewis does to tell some of his engineers that I’m not feeling well. I continue my trek up the steps and through the interior, emerging on to the upper deck in silence. Partygoers below laugh and cheer, and glasses clink as they consume more alcohol. I turn around when I hear footsteps, and my worries ease as Lewis appears with a gentle smile. He stands on the other side of the deck for a moment, eyes raking across my figure as his smile grows.

“God, you look stunning tonight,” he whispers, eyes coming back up to my face. 

“Susie said it’s the dress,” I mumble, taking a step toward him. “Apparently sundresses are the thing to wear around you.”

He nods approvingly as I stop in front of the plush bench, “She was right. I haven’t been able to look away from you all night, but it’s not just the dress.”

He takes a step toward me, hands finally grasping my hips roughly as he spins us around. He guides me toward the entrance of the upper deck, pressing my back gently against the tinted glass, and his knee slides in between my legs as I whimper. Goosebumps rise on my skin as the sea breeze blows across us, and his broad back blocks some of the chilled wind. My hands rest around his neck, fingers tracing across the collar of his shirt and the pendant of his necklace that dips beneath the sheer fabric. My fingers linger at the top of the compass tattoo on his chest.

“I’ve been thinking about you all weekend,” I whisper, looking back up to his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

His knee wedges itself deeper between my legs, and I gasp as his thigh rests against my core. He smirks as he leans in toward my jaw, lips brushing across my skin leaving barely-there kisses. My hands grasp at his shoulders, and I roll my hips gently against his thigh as he presses it more forcefully against me. 

“I can tell,” he whispers quietly, lips pressing against my collarbone as he flexes his thigh beneath me. “You look so pretty trying to get off on my thigh.”

“Lewis, please,” I whimper, hands crumpling the expensive fabric around his shoulders. 

His lips come crashing into mine, tongues clashing as I continue to roll my hips against him. Lewis grips my hips with a bruising force, guiding me against him. I moan into the kiss as my core presses against his muscled thigh, and he pulls away with a heaving breath.

“You act like I don’t do this to you with everyone around,” he breathes into my ear. “Like you don’t want them to know what I can do to you.”

I tip my head back into the glass, “They can’t see me like this. They can’t know.”

“Why?” he grunts against my neck, his leg splitting me open so my back is the only thing pressed against the tinted glass. “Don’t want them to know you’re not so bossy after all?”

I nod my head with desperate whimpers, fingers clawing at his shoulders, “Can’t let them know I’m this weak.”

“Weak?” he scoffs. “No, not weak. You’re strong, love. You take whatever I give you and do whatever I ask. You’re bossy, yes, but not weak.”

I moan his name again, louder than before, and he chuckles quietly as he curses, “Fuck, you love when I tell you how amazing you are.”

I nod my head, feeling all of my logic and reason fall overboard as I swivel my hips against his thigh, “It’s my favorite thing.”

“You look pretty like this,” he murmurs, lips dragging up my neck as his hands dip beneath my sundress. “Playing this little game with everyone below us.”

I whine when his warm hands brush across my thighs and tug at the waistband of my underwear, pulling the fabric down my legs and stuffing it into one of his pockets. His thigh meets my core again, and this time my jaw falls open as the fabric of his creme pants meets my throbbing clit. He chuckles at my reaction, smirking as the crowd erupts in cheers below us as they react to something happening on the main deck.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he whispers, leaving kisses beneath my jaw. “You have to tell me what you want, love. You know how it works.”

“Lewis, please,” I whisper quietly, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to concentrate. “I just want you in me. Don’t care how.”

He chuckles quietly, one of his hands resting at the base of my throat and fingers curling around the sides of my neck gently, “I need more than that, love.”

Words die on the tip of my tongue when his rings slide across the skin of my neck, and his lips meet mine as I whine. The cool metal contrasts to his warm skin, and when he pulls away leaving me breathless, my hands clutch his shoulders desperately as they bunch the sheer fabric across his back. My hips desperately search for a faster rhythm against him, but he stops moving his leg and his hands grip my hips tightly to still my mindless movements. 

“Want your cock in me,” I whisper, fingers sinking into the defined muscle at the base of neck and shoulders. 

He grins as he leans in to meet my lips, “See, that wasn’t hard.”

My hands immediately fly to his pants, fingers tugging at the button and zipper. He kisses me dumb as my fingers fumble with his zipper and my brain focuses on his tongue pressed to mine. His hands settle over mine, stilling their fumbling as he pulls his lips away from me and his chest rises and falls rapidly. I barely have any time to gasp for air as he guides me toward the plush bench in the middle of the small deck, one hand firm on my hips as the other places my hand on the back of the bench. I follow his direction, putting my other hand on the bench as my fingers curl around the smooth edge and my palms sink into the plush fabric. My heart beats in my chest wildly as I hear the guests below, but my concerns quickly fade when I feel him press against my ass. A stifled moan falls from my lips when I feel him, and he shushes me as his knee slips between mine to push my legs wider. I oblige immediately, gasping when he lifts my sundress up and his hands slide across my hips.

“So pretty like this,” he whispers, hands caressing my bare skin as they travel from my hips to the back of my thighs. “Spread out for me and waiting for me to do something.”

His fingers creep back up my skin, spreading goosebumps in the wake of their trail and settle on my clit. I moan as he circles the bundle of nerves with two fingers slowly, cool rings occasionally brushing my skin in the heat of it all. I push my hips back into him in a desperate attempt to get him to fuck me already, and he grunts quietly. 

“You’re so good for me,” he whispers, hands pulling my hips closer to him as I grind against his cock. “You’ll have to be quiet so they don’t know, love. I’m not going easy.”

“Just fuck me,” I whine in response, desperation filling my voice as my hips still mindlessly search for contact against him.

I hear the rustling of clothing, fingers digging into the plush bench as I wait, and as I whip my head around, about to hiss something for him to hurry up, words die on my tongue as my jaw falls open. His tip is hot as he pushes into me, the stretch of him rendering me speechless as he slowly enters me.  I don’t miss the smirk on his face as he looks at my dumbfounded expression. My fingers clutch on to the top of the bench so tightly my knuckles turn white, and he stills inside of me when he’s met with resistance.

“Relax, love,” he whispers, hands gently moving my hair to one shoulder as he leaves a chaste kiss against my exposed shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

I push my hips back against him, desperate to feel all of him, and he lets a groan fall from his lips as he bottoms out. He immediately hits a deep spot inside of me that sends white stars bursting across my vision and my knees buckling. His large hands hold my hips with a tight grip as he sheathes in and out of me with an agonizingly slow pace, and his forearms flex as he steadies me on my wobbly feet. With each snap of his hips, I feel like I’m going to topple over as my fingers desperately claw at the curve of the bench. His name leaves my lips in breathless whispers and choked moans. One of his hands slides in between my legs, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive nerves, and I clench around him with a stifled moan.

“You feel so good,” he groans. “You always take me so well.”

My brain turns to liquid between his praise and the mounting pleasure from his increasing pace. His name falls from my lips, and it sounds so desperate that I would be blushing in any other scenario. Instead, I push myself back farther against him as I chase a not-far-off high. As I lean back into him, listening to the obscene sounds of our skin slapping, one of my hands slips off the bench and I start to tumble forward. He never slows down his blistering pace as my hand searches for the bench again for stability. His hand from my hip comes up to my neck, fingers pressing into the sides of my throat as my hand desperately claws at the fabric. His rings press into the skin, leaving red indents as my mouth falls open--too overwhelmed for sound. My whole body trembles with the force of his thrusts, and between the pleasure he gifts me, I’m clenching around him as I hurtle toward the edge.

“Good girl,” he mutters as I steady myself despite my shaking arms. “You can hang on a little bit longer.”

I try to answer him with a vehement no I can’t, but I just shake my head wildly as words fail to form from the mounting pleasure and the toe-curling way his rings press into my throat. No more than a few seconds later, and the sensation explodes across every nerve ending in my body. My mouth is wide open with shameless pleas of his name and gasping for air, and one of my hands drops from the bench to wrap tightly around his wrist still rubbing circles into my clit. My short nails sink into the supple skin on the inside of his wrist, and his fingers tighten ever so slightly around my throat as a high-pitched whine leaks out past my lips. His hips slow before they still within me as I clench around him, and he leaves gentle kisses on my shoulder and the back of my neck as my chest heaves. His fingers fall away from my dripping center and my throat, opting instead to hook one arm around my waist and place his other hand at my hip to give my wobbling arms a break. They still clutch the bench, but some of the burn eases as he takes most of my weight off my arms. 

“Lewis,” my voice is breathless, “you need to-”

“In a second,” he coos, lips still ghosting across skin revealed by the sundress. “When you’re ready, love. I can feel you throbbing still.”

I just nod my head, vision returning to normal and chest still heaving for air. I still absentmindedly clench around him, and he groans into my shoulder as I do. He’s warm within me, heavy and pulsating against my walls as we both hold still as possible. I’m the first to move as I lean more weight onto my burning forearms against the bench. His breath hitches at the slight movement.

“You can move now,” I whisper. 

“Love, I-”

“I can take it, Lewis,” my voice is still ragged as I regain my breath. “It’s not too much.”

His lips leave another gentle kiss on my shoulder as he whispers near my ear, “You’re too good to me. What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Aftershocks of my orgasm are still rippling through me as he resumes his bruising pace, and I’m left speechless as he fucks my already sensitive cunt. The wet sounds are obscene, and I struggle to keep shameless whines and pleas from falling from my lips. When I hear footsteps on the steps, closer than anyone all night, I panic as one of my hands flies from the bench to hit Lewis behind me to get his attention. He’s so focused on chasing his high he misses my flailing hand, and I hear George’s distinct accent grow closer. My hand finally collides with Lewis’ arm, getting his attention as his hips stutter against me. He’s close to finishing in the way his chest heaves and his hips lose their steady rhythm, and when he hears the echo of George’s voice, he decides to double down and push himself over the edge.

“I’ll be right down!” his voice is strained as he answers the calls for his name.

I clench around him hard as he cums, hips moving quickly to get him through his orgasm before someone catches us. Through Lewis’ heavy breaths and his bruising grip on my hips, I miss the footsteps as they finish climbing the steps, and I catch a shuffle of Georgre’s footsteps at the top of the staircase. I nearly scream in horror, and my hand on Lewis’ arm smacks him hard before I point to the steps. There was another person coming--a second set of footsteps. 

“George, man, come on!” Lewis calls, stopping his thrusts but leaving his cock nestled between my legs. 

“Lewis-” I try to get his attention, but when he moves ever so slightly, I’m left speechless as he scrapes against my sensitive walls. 

“Lewis, we were just wanting a team picture with-”

Part of my brain wants to scream and the other part wants to launch itself into the ocean. Toto briefly appears at the top of the steps, eyes wide and face red as he ducks back into the staircase. George is standing right behind him. I am bent at the waist, hands clutching the bench and legs parted for Lewis. My ass is covered by my sundress, and Lewis’ cock still pulsing in me is hidden between my legs. Lewis stands with his hands on my hips, and the entire scene is something out of a nightmare or a horror movie.

“Toto, I told you not to go up there!” 

Susie’s voice rings from the bottom of the staircase, and I’m frozen as Lewis pulls out from me. He tugs the rest of my dress down for me, smoothing the fabric as he pulls me up from my frozen spot on the bench. When his eyes meet mine, it feels like my heart is in my throat and my mind races. 

“Let me take care of this,” he whispers. 

“Just bring them up,” I whisper despite the unease in my voice. “They already saw us having sex, Lewis. I need to face them, too.”

“Are you sure, love?” his eyes are gentle, and he waits for me to nod before calling the three back up.

Toto looks mortified as Susie smirks, and George looks guilty as this is the second time he has caught us. Lewis grabs one of my hands with his, interlacing our fingers in an act that sends shockwaves around us. He stands firm as he speaks, explaining enough of the situation to Toto without revealing every detail. I apologize repeatedly, and the entire time Susie smirks from behind her husband. My face is beet red. Once the initial shock has settled in, we decide to go down to keep the rest of the team from wondering what was taking so long for the picture. As we work our way down the steps, Lewis still holding my hand as he guides me down the dark steps, he grins as he speaks to our boss.

“I was thinking about that vacation over summer break,” he starts. “I think we’ll take you up on it. Definitely will need two villas this time.”

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton one shot #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula one x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #formula 1 smut #formula one smut

[galathogwarts]

Rooting For You | Sebastian Sallow X Fem!hufflepuff Reader

Summary: Y/N Comes to wish Sebastian good luck before his quidditch match. Just fluff :)

Note: Hey everyone :) I'm in the process of writing my own fanfic and I wrote a scene I really like and wanted to share! I will probably won't publish the whole fanfic, as it is probably written badly. English I not my main language and I don't want to frusturate people with mistakes over so many chapters.

UPDATE: fanfic is now out :) you can read it here.

Again, this scene is not written perfecly, but I do hope you enjoy even if I made some mistakes. Let me know what you think <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sebastian stood in the Slytherin quidditch dressing room, looking at himself in his uniform. Oh how he missed wearing the uniform - the feeling of flying, the excitement that followed after his fist wrapped around the golden little snitch, and the loud cheers from the green crowd everytime they won.

He thought he looked pretty handsome. Some will say it is very vain of him, but he liked to know the strengths and weaknesses of people, including himself. It goes without saying, he was very well aware of his weaknesses too. His tendency to lose control over his emotions, his stubbornness, his sister, Ominis, and a new additional weakness that came in a form of a bright smile and yellow uniform.

“Boo!” Sebastian jolted and met the eyes of the very weakness he was thinking about just now. He put a hand on his heart and took a deep breath.

“You frighten me!” He scolded her with a smile. It was hard not to smile when she was around. He did not have many reasons to smile lately, and he was grateful she gave him a reason to smile.

She returned him a smug look. “Ha! that will teach you! You do this to me all the time.”

He took a step closer to her and looked down at her. He grew taller this summer, and she stayed about the same. He was already pretty tall, but this summer he changed a lot. “Never took you as the petty type, Y/N. What are you doing here anyway? Came to sneak a peek at me shirtless?”

She was lost for words and red blush climbed up her cheeks. He loved teasing her and making her blush. “I-I-I most certainly did not!”

“If you say so.”

“I came to wish you goodluck.” she looked down trying to hide her blush.

He chuckled to himself. “Goodluck? You know if we win against the lions today it’s bad for you badgers? Shouldn’t you be loyal to your house?”

“Y-Yes. But I’m also loyal to my friends.” She stuttered at the start, but at the end of the sentence she lifted her chin proudly,

He took another step closer, only inches far from her. “Well, I did read somewhere that a kiss on the cheek is an exceptional charm for good luck.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and smiled, pushing him playfully. “Okay, Sallow, where would you read that?”

“I can’t tell you all my secrets now, can’t have you go around using all the luck for your own house.”

“Wow! And here I thought I was being the bigger person wishing you good luck and rooting for you to win the game.”

“You are. Thank you, Y/N. It does means a lot.”

She smiled shyly. He did it sometimes, switched between playful banter to charming compliments and all the way to heartful truths. He loved watching the surprised faces, as if they did not realize he was capable of this variety of emotions. “You are absolutely welcome. I guess I just didn’t want you to die painful death by Imelda if you lose this game.”

Sebastian laughed. “Oh, that’s charming. You are worried about me?

“You know I do, idiot!”

Her heartful truth made his heart shatter to thousand pieces. He did not deserve her kindness, her care, her love. He wanted to kiss her so bad, but he knew it would be wrong. She does not deserve to be with a guy like him, even though the thought of her being with anyone else made The Cruciatus Curse sounds appealing. He was scared of giving away his emotions. He already found himself staring at her lips and quickly brought back his gaze to her eyes.

“Anyway, goodluck Seb, I’ll be in the bleachers rooting for you.”

He felt his body filling with energy when she said those words, with a sweet smile on her lips.

“Just don’t forget to wear your ‘I heart Sebastian Sallow’ shirt.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. The thought of her wearing a shirt like this made Sebastian beam like an idiot. He was not fond of acting like an idiot, but when it came to her, it was stronger then him. He realized he did not care of being an idiot around her.

“You are unbearable.”

He laughed. “I try.”

“Well then, I’ll let you do your thing. Goodluck! See you after the game.”

She came closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. He drew her closer hoping she would not notice his heart is beating like crazy. He would give up all the Galleons in the world to stay in this moment forever. She was the light in the darkness that has been Sebastian’s life. She was his comfort, his friend, his weakness.

When she broke off the hug he sent her a smile. She turned her back to him and was about to leave when he tried to regulate his breath. Before he could exhale, she was back inches from his face and planted a tender kiss on his cheek. “Just in case, you promise to take me to honeydukes this weekend so you better survive.”

And she left. Again, he stood there like an idiot with hand on his cheek where she kissed him. He tried to savor the feeling of her lips against his cheeks, still feeling a shadow of her touch.

After a moment Imelda entered the room, examined him like a potion in a cauldron that has the wrong color.

“Are you alright?”

“Oh, I am better than ever.” He smiled.

“Well then, listen to me Sebastian Sallow! We better win tonight or I’ll-“

“Don’t worry, for we are winning one hundred precents.” He smiled.

“Love the confidence, but how are you so sure?”

He smiled at her and held his cheek. “I have my lucky charm.”

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow fluff #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow oneshot

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 6 (Sneak Peek)

Here's a little snippet from Chapter 6...

“Fiction or non?” 

You were splayed out on your bedroom floor, with Theo across from you. As he’d pored over his textbook, he kept coming up with questions to ask you. 

Sure, it might be cute and endearing in a normal circumstance. But right now, you wanted to focus on studying for a couple of upcoming tests, as summer semesters were the worst at moving so damn quickly. 

There were more important matters at hand than nonsensical small talk. 

Deciding to humor him (and hopefully get back to the task at hand), you responded. “Hmm. . .,” you sat up from where you’d been laying on your stomach to read about Geoffrey Chaucer. “They both have special things about them—both stretch our minds to understand more about other worlds and our own,” you paused, giving it a second to ponder. “Are we talking writing-wise or reading-wise?”

He chuckled, and winked at you. “It doesn’t have to be something you think so deeply about,” he closed his textbook. What was he doing? You still had to make flash cards! “Pretend we’re playing a game and it’s rapid fire questions.”

You didn’t want to be playing a game. You wanted to be sinking your teeth into the intricacies of this author in order to ace your test. 

You shook your head, your eyes stuck on his closed book. “Fuck,” you scratched your eyebrow. Your mind flicked to music: fun to write and read about. You were actually currently reading a book about John Lennon. You had many books on your TBR list about famous musicians. A most intriguing subject, in your opinion. “Non-fiction.”

His face scrunched up. “Nah,” he disagreed. “Fiction.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” his stare was blank in response. “Don’t really have to think too hard about it.”

You tried not to roll your eyes at him. In your opinion, thinking hard about what you were writing or reading was what made it most desirable. It made you venture into undiscovered realms of your mind. 

When you went to lean back over your book, the movement made you realize just how badly your bladder was begging to be released. 

Stupidly, you thought of the ridiculous work schedule on the fridge. 

Why the hell couldn’t you just let yourself go to the damn bathroom without thinking about Jake? You knew it was fucking ludicrous. You just didn’t want to see him. When you pulled up the picture of the fridge on your phone, you saw you were in the clear. He should still be at band rehearsal. 

You tapped your open book, giving Theo a sign that he needed to open his back up. “I’m going to the bathroom real quick,” you stood up, the wave of having to pee rushing through you tenfold at the motion. He still hadn’t gotten the hint to open up his textbook. Ugh. “I’ll be back soon and then we will make our cards for the test.”

And as you exited the room, you saw him finally get back to business and open his book back up. After you’d safely closed the door to your room, you rolled your eyes at his lack of care at getting shit done. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You dried your hands on the towel next to the sink, and took a look at yourself in the mirror.

He sort of annoyed you, but Theo was still cute, and he’d made you happy in high school. You weren’t totally opposed to the idea of kissing him (or maybe more) by the end of the night.

It seemed to you to be another good plan to get your mind off of Jake.

And Theo seemed interested enough. Considering he’d been more interested in learning about you, rather than the material for class all night (irritating, but whatever). 

Deciding you looked good enough, you opened the door to go back. And as you went to walk out, you stopped at a chest in your way. You got dizzy at the smell—smelled so fucking good—

You looked up.

Jake.

Your eyebrows pinched together, not happy at all that you’d crossed paths. Fucking hell. Why wasn’t he. . .?

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like thi—.”

You held a hand up to silence him, crossing your arms. “Why aren’t you at band practice?” 

Why the fuck was he cracking jokes? You were not in the mood. 

“Ended early,” his face hardened when he shrugged, stating it plainly. 

“Why didn’t you just stay with the guys?” You asked, secretly glad he didn’t. For whatever reason. “You could have hung out with them instead of coming back here.”

“Oh,” he stuck his chin out at the word and leaned a shoulder against the door-hinge. He raised a brow and crossed his arms to mirror you. “I see.”

You definitely didn’t glance at how his bicep flexed as his fingers wrapped around it. And you didn’t take time to appreciate his beautiful hair. . . had it started getting slightly longer? 

You shook your head, retraining your eyes.

“Tell me, Jake, what do you see?” You snapped, flicking your eyes up to his.

He scoffed, rolled his eyes. “Saw that guy lying on your bedroom floor, waiting for you. He was even sweet enough to wave at me when he saw me pass your room,” he sarcastically remarked, waving his hand to mimic. 

“We’re just studying,” you hushed back, feeling the (unnecessary) need to reassure him.

He scoffed. “You think that’s all it is to him?”

You narrowed your eyes and pursed your lips before you pulled him by his T-shirt into the bathroom. You weren’t going to discuss this in a place Theo could possibly hear. 

“I know that’s all it is,” you released his shirt like you were repulsed by the touch, when in reality you wanted nothing more than to pull it completely off of him. Damn him. 

“I don’t. Just think it’s funny how you’re so naive to believe he doesn’t want more.”

“He doesn’t.” 

“Do you?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I just think it’s funny that you might want me out just so you can fuck that guy in your bedroom,” he nodded his head in the direction of your room. 

Oh. He was taking it there. Okay.

“Yeah? And if I wanted to?” You jutted your chin out the slightest bit, bringing your arms closer, to press against your chest. “How is it any of your damn business?” 

He stepped once towards you, eyeing your chest, the tops of your breasts revealed, pushed up to the top of your tank. Your skin flushed, heart racing. 

His voice lowered. “It became my business the night you spread your legs for me at Baby’s,” one more step towards you, his eyes locking with yours. Fuck. “When I had you moaning my name while my mouth played between your pretty legs,” another step. “I think you gave yourself away that night. I don’t buy this little act.”

Oh. 

Fuck. . . If your heart wasn’t racing. 

You blinked, shaking your head. You tried to stand firm. “Wh-what act?” Dammit. Why were you stuttering? 

Stand your ground, y/n, you thought, motivating yourself to stay strong. 

But as he took one more step in, your body was effectively once again trapped between his body and a sink. Thankfully, he hadn’t pressed himself up to your front, so you weren’t distracted by that. 

You tried to hold your own.

But shit. . .he was so close. Your skin flared with heat, your heart still beating erratically in your chest. 

As you were making direct eye contact with the chest of his white t-shirt, you craned your neck to see his face fully.

“What act, Jacob?” 

He shook his head. A little smirk played at his mouth. He brought his hand up to hold your cheek. Your skin was on fire for him and his touch.

You couldn’t help it when you leaned into his hand, letting your cheek press into his calloused flesh. 

He licked his lips. “You tell me,” he whispered lowly, nodding his head once at you. 

And you couldn’t help it, his deep brown eyes pulled you in. He was begging to be touched. You had to feel him. 

Leaning in, you held his cheek just as he held yours. He then took the chance, and captured your lips with his.

Ah. His lips. So soft. 

Your vision was hazy, eyes still open, you saw how his eyebrows dipped in with a moan. You matched the sound, closing your eyes, and slipped your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his. 

You heard him shut the door with the hand that wasn’t holding your face. 

He then moved that hand from your face, reaching both hands under your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before he lifted you the short distance to sit on the bathroom countertop. 

You bit his bottom lip, getting another small moan from him. He did the same to you and then soothed the spot with his tongue. You sighed into his mouth. 

Reaching both hands up, you sunk them into his dark, brunette locks. He matched every movement of your lips with his own, and then licked one wet stripe on the roof of your mouth. 

You were able to gasp for air when he moved his mouth from yours to give the softest, small kisses to your neck. Though it didn’t last long before he turned his pecks into wet, open-mouthed kisses. The slightest stubble of hair on his lip skimmed against your sensitive skin. He worked from under your jaw, all the way up, to the tender spot behind your ear. 

Shivering with a sigh, you gripped his hair tighter, pulling him in as close as he could be to you, on the counter. You felt his hardening length against your center when you did so, making you immediately grind into him. 

And when he did the same to the other side of your neck, this time, he nipped at the skin behind your ear. You bucked your hips into his. He released a groan that echoed through the small bathroom, making you want to melt into it. 

“More,” you breathed, clutching him closer, making sure the front of you stayed connected to him. Feeling his hard length through the material of his jeans was almost too much, but you craved it. You needed it. 

More.

But, the next moment, you heard a little cough from your bedroom, right next door. 

It snapped you from your daze. You were suddenly hyper aware that it was not just you two in the apartment. You had to stop.

You pushed him back, jumping off the counter. When you looked in the mirror to check your face and neck, your lips were swollen and your cheeks were flushed. Your neck was still pink from where he’d been. You checked where he’d bit behind your ear, and seeing the redness back there made you want to hop right back onto that counter. Let him have his way with you— right there. Theo be fucking damned.

But you knew better.

Tucking some hair behind your ear, you tried to make yourself look slightly presentable. 

From behind you, he was brushing a hand through his hair, when he went to smooth a hand over his cheeks, his jaw stretching with the motion. He was contemplative.

His eyebrows drew together, curious. You couldn’t tell if he was upset. He mostly looked . . .confused. 

He removed his hand from his face when his eyes found yours in the mirror, open and wondering. He looked desperate to understand. 

“What do you want, y/n?” 

You didn’t know what in the hell to tell him. 

You wanted Jake. And you wanted him bad. But somehow saying it out loud seemed too difficult at the moment. 

And how could you say that to him when he’d so recently, blatantly told you that you were a mistake?

“I don’t know, Jake,” you whispered back, still looking at your blushing cheeks, messy hair, and freshly kissed lips. You’d need a minute to let your skin return to its normal shade before going back to your room. 

You turned to face him.

When you saw him, looking so beautiful, so lost. . . You thought of how lost you’d felt for the past couple weeks. His words were once again flashing back through your head. 

“It was a fucking mistake and you need to leave me alone.”

It still hurt as you could see him so clearly in the doorway of his bedroom, angry and insistent that you do what he said and leave him alone.

But tonight? Crowding you in here to make out on the bathroom counter? Did he truly want that? For you to leave him alone?

“What do you want?” You leveled him with a stare, your tone sharp, but keeping your voice low since Theo was one room over. You pointed a finger in his chest. “You say you want me to leave you alone, but then you trap me in here like this?”

He shook his head, a dimple showing again with a sarcastic grin. After tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, he put the same hand in his pocket. 

“Oh, there is no way you are going to turn this around on me,” he matched your quiet tone, understanding. “And trap you? Okay, Little Miss ‘Fuck Me, Jake,’” he used air quotes to remind you of your words from the night at Baby’s. 

Fuck. 

Of course he remembered you’d said that. Why wouldn’t he? 

You decided to ignore it, focusing back on him.

“You’re the one who said it was a mistake! That I needed to leave you alone,” you protested, anger flaring in your chest.

He covered his eyes with a hand, the veins in the hand catching your eye. You’d never noticed how masculine his hands were. And damn if he didn’t know how to use them . . . Even in this moment, debating with him, you wanted them touching every part of you. You wanted his skilled fingers, flexing inside of you.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” His eyes were sad when he moved his hand, when you saw the brown irises again. But there was a fire behind them still. “Dammit, y/n. Why do you insist on assuming the worst about me all the fucking time? I’m not the one who can’t make up my mind about what I want,” he leaned back against the wall behind him, crossing his arms. “One minute you’re kissing me. You’re with me, naked and ready as I’m pressing into you,” his voice was being raspy, along with the picture he was drawing. . . It made your cheeks pink. You could still feel what he felt like, pressing against you, throbbing. . .so close to being inside of you. He went on, “And the next moment you’re shoving me away from you, making sure to tell me that Josh doesn’t need to know what we’re doing.”

Of course some of this had to do with Josh. You’d had the smallest inkling, based on how weird he’d acted when you set the rules. 

Stupid.

“I knew you were making it all weird with Josh. . . is this all about Josh?! You know that he and I—.”

“No! It’s about you and how you make it impossible for us to—.”

“You told me to go away!”

“And you told me to stop,” he said back, his smoky voice still hushed. “More than once.”

Your chest heaved, knowing he was right, but you were so lost on how to explain it all. “There were reasons every time.” 

“Reasons,” he scoffed. “So are you going to keep having these reasons? Keep stopping it? Why do you keep letting it happen if all you’re going to do is make us stop?” 

“Last time you stopped us, Jake!” You defended, focusing on keeping your voice low. “Not me. You walked away and called it a mistake.”

He covered his face with both hands, growling. You shushed him. 

He took his hands away to show his jaw set, clenching with frustration. “You were drunk, y/n!” He begged you to understand, “I wasn’t going to do anything with you without you being in full and total control of yourself.”

You were sure your expression showed it all clicking. You blinked at him. It all made so much sense now. 

And what he’d done? His true intentions? Fuck. Sexy as hell.

Maybe you really did need to stop assuming the worst. You just couldn’t help it. It was a trauma response. Jumping to conclusions, thinking that people didn’t want you. . .

Your mom didn’t want you, so you were always convinced other people wouldn’t either. 

Especially men who were as beautiful as Jake Kiszka.

Damn. Now it really was all on you. How did you even begin to lay it all out? 

You looked him dead in the face, completely unsure of how to articulate the mess in your head. 

“I don’t know,” you covered your face with both hands, mimicking him and frustratedly groaning into your palms. When you removed them from your face, you tucked them into your front pockets. You decided to assure him of one thing. For whatever reason, you wanted—needed him to know this. “I do want you. I want what we almost had in the bathroom at Baby’s,” You stepped towards him, wanting to be close to him again. You placed a delicate hand on his chest. He looked down at you, as you looked up into his eyes, reaching to hold your hand on his chest. Your skin tingled at his touch. “I need to feel you, to be with you. . . it just never seems like the right time. There’s always something.”

You didn’t know why you’d suddenly felt the urge to be vulnerable with him. He kept your hand on his chest, holding you, his eyes meeting yours in understanding. 

And you knew then that it was just him. Jake Kiszka, in and of himself, made you feel this strange sense of safety, comfortability. 

And it was different from the kind his twin had offered you as your friend for so many years. 

With Jake, you weren’t just friends. You weren’t even really friends. . .it was something else—an intense, unavoidable attraction. The safe feeling came combined with this desire to be with him. 

He felt like a resting ground. 

It was weird.

But you liked it.

He smoothed a thumb over your hand on his chest. You held his deep gaze, getting lost in it. 

And out of nowhere, he leaned down, kissing your lips with his. Just for a moment. 

You felt it all the way down to your toes. The feeling of him so close, with one simple kiss from his soft lips, it felt perfectly intimate. 

He released his hold on your hand, wrapping his hand around your waist instead, eyes connected with yours. It was as though he just wanted to touch you, have his hands on you.

It was what you wanted, too. Just the feeling of his hand, as it moved down to just over your hip, his thumb on the skin underneath the hem of your gray tank top. . .it felt right. 

He penetrated the thickness in the air with his low, gravelly tone. His eyes were vulnerable as he asked, “Do you want that? To find the right time?” 

You reached a hand up, holding his handsome face. You smoothed a thumb over his skin, tracing a freckle on his cheek. “I do. I promise I do,” you blinked up at him, needing his answer to that question. “And do you? Wanna find the right time?”

This was so much, butterflies flew rampant in your tummy. 

The grin he gave you was loose, his eyes relieved and open. “I really do.”

It felt so amazing to hear it straight from his lips. He really wanted it too. 

You’d overthink all of this later.

He leaned down to kiss you again. You reciprocated, for just a moment, letting your lips move with his. 

Then you pulled back, your hand falling from his face.

You nodded at the door. “I gotta get back to studying.”

His hand that was holding your hip squeezed slightly, your skin heating at it. You caught his eye, the intense feeling setting in your beating heart. 

“Is that all you’re doing?” His eyes were dark and questioning, making your head spin. “Studying?”

You winked at him, still holding onto your teasing from earlier. “It’s whatever I want it to be.”

His eyes seemed to darken more, pulling you in so your chest touched his. So warm. “I really don’t want to hear another guy fucking you through these walls.”

You pressed closer to him, your body thrumming with fire. “Funny coming from the guy who told me I could just wear earplugs when he brought women over,” then you pulled back, his hand fell. His eyebrow lifted, a tiny smirk lifted his lips. You continued, “Why don’t you go ahead and get a pair of your own, hm?”

You patted his cheek, reluctantly parting from him. Before leaving the bathroom, you chanced one more glance at your appearance. Not quite as flushed as before, though your cheeks were still blushing. You’d find a way to pass it off. Whatever. You’d been gone too long. 

You were about to open the bathroom door when, from behind, his voice stopped you. You felt a spark as his hand delicately touched yours.

“Hey.”

You swiveled on your heel, raised your brows in question. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could come to our gig this weekend? It’s a bigger one.”

Did you work this weekend? You couldn’t remember. 

All you knew was that, suddenly, you really wanted to be at their show. 

“I’m not sure . . . Depends on work.”

“I would love—,” he put a fist in front of his mouth and cleared his throat. “The guys and I would love it if you could be there,” he shook his head, seeming to come to terms with an inner battle. “For me, I would just love to look out and see your beautiful face in the crowd.”

Your mind was fuzzy. All of this felt so unreal, yet so real all at once. He really wanted you there? And had he just called you beautiful? 

“I’ll try my best,” you slapped on a small grin, trying to play hard to get, masking your inner shock. You wanted to keep him on his toes, like he’d kept you for the past weeks. 

He scrunched his brows in and messed with his bottom lip. “Yeah,” he nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, totally get it. Just text me and let me know.”

Anytime he messed with his mouth, it was a distraction. You had to keep yourself from watching too close. It really didn’t help that you knew the feeling of those full, pink lips. . . 

And as you walked the short distance to your bedroom, you realized something else.

Had he just asked you to text him? 

What was all of this? This new territory you had just discovered?

---

Thoughts? What are you looking forward to most from this chapter?

Let me know <3 I'm so, so sorry this update is taking so long...I promise it will be worth it! (if you know what i mean......)

#covet #sneak peek

[threadsun]

Anonymous Asks: "I haven’t seen much writing with Nick. Could I request a yandere somophilia oneshot of this creep finally going from stalking his darling to breaking and entering?

You’re stuff is amazing and you are amazing! Thank you!"

Ooooh yes I love this creepy lil perv~

Content: noncon, somnophilia, stalking, breaking and entering, victim blaming, descriptive gore (as a fantasy), oral sex, underwear theft, scent kink, masturbation

Nick has always felt more comfortable at night.

Something about the cool embrace of shadows. It's so quiet, without all the crowds. It's so easy for him to slip unnoticed into the darkness. So easy to tune out the sounds of the world and focus on you.

No one notices him, crouched in the shadows outside your bedroom window. There's no one around anyway, he's safe to watch you for as long as he pleases. It's the best part of his nights.

You always look so peaceful, behind the clear glass. Spread out on your bed. Sleeping in blissful ignorance. Little do you know that he's been watching you for months. Imagining himself in your bed, arms wrapped around you as you sleep so peacefully on his chest.

He imagines himself in your life a lot. How it would feel if you were his. Being able to walk beside you rather than behind you down the streets. Being able to kiss you, hold you, worship you. Hearing you introduce him to people as your boyfriend.

But he's resigned to staying in the shadows. Admiring you from afar. Watching you sleep through your window every night, and imagining a day when he finally makes you his.

It's harder now, though. Now that it's summer, and you're sleeping with your window cracked to let in the cool night air. It's harder for him to resist. It would be so easy for him to just...

It's like his hands move on their own, fingers slipping between the pane and the frame. He wedges it open, moving painfully slowly, inch at a time so as not to make a sound.

It feels like hours by the time he's gotten it open enough to fit through. He glances behind himself, half expecting to see the first rays of the sun peeking over the horizon. But it's still firmly night, the inky black sky and the new moon providing cover for his activities.

It's another slow process, slipping through the window. He toes at your bedroom floor experimentally, making sure his landing spot isn't a squeaky floorboard. He needs to be careful not to wake you. It wouldn't do to be caught, it would make following you much harder.

Sure enough, after what feels like another few hours, he finds himself standing beside your bed. He was so slow, so quiet, so careful. But now, seeing you up close, he realises he didn't have to be. You're all but dead to the world.

He'd only meant to watch you, honest! He'd just wanted to get a closer look at your sleeping face, to admire you up close for once. He hadn't had a single impure thought while he was sneaking inside. Only the deep, gnawing need to get closer to you.

But now that he's here, now that he's seeing you like this… He can see the way your lips move slightly in your sleep, and the outline of your naked form under the thin sheet. Even with the cool breeze from your window, the summer heat has your skin damp with sweat.

Nick can't help himself. Once he's taken in every last detail of you and your bedroom, he can't stop himself from reaching out to touch you. It's soft. Gentle as the night breeze. His fingers ghost across your cheek, whole body tense as he waits to see if you'll wake up.

You merely give a soft grumble and shift under the covers. You're fast asleep, and the soft call of your name and the waving of his hand in front of your face can't wake you. Neither can the sheet, pulled down your body to pool on the floor at the end of the bed.

Can you blame him, really? You were the one who chose to sleep naked. To leave your window cracked. To be so damned tantalising. It's almost like you were begging someone to break in and take advantage of you.

Really, you're just lucky it's him and not someone else. Just a sweet little pervert who knows everything about you, not some brute who would use you for the sake of it. He'll touch you so lovingly, like you deserve. He'll make you feel good.

You take his breath away. He's winded, looking at your naked form, bathed in the moonlight. He can almost imagine your gentle hands around his heart, squeezing tighter and tighter as he watches you.

The image is vivid in his mind for just a moment. You, holding his heart in your hands. Squeezing it. Squeezing it tighter until it bursts. Until you drip with his blood. Until he's seeping into your pores, crushed to pulp between your fingers.

He shakes it off as quickly as it comes. He doesn't want to tarnish the pure image he has of you right now. The heavenly, divine image of you, all ready for him. Ready for him, even if you don't know it.

No, right now you’re his angel. His fingers drift across your skin, fingertips just barely making contact. He feels almost like he’s broken into a museum. Like he’s about to touch some priceless piece of art. Like he’s worried he might ruin it with his hands.

But oh how incredible you would look, ruined by him. Ruined by those soft hands exploring you. By the way they caress up your thighs, pushing your legs apart gently. Your body is so pliant, so easy for him to manipulate. How can you blame him for this?

He leans over you, admiring your face for a moment before his lips settle on yours. They’re so soft, and they smile as you murmur in your sleep. He loves it, how oblivious you are. He loves that you don’t know what he’s doing to you. What he’s going to do to you…

He kisses you, revelling in the way you don’t respond to a single thing. It’s so easy for him to slip his tongue between your lips, to taste you, to lave his tongue around the inside of your mouth. He can’t get enough of your taste, it’s addictive. It’s everything he ever wanted and more.

His hands are bolder now, wandering across your body as he tries to memorise every inch of you. He doesn’t know when he’ll get another chance like this again. When he’ll get to touch you, feel you, learn you. So he needs to take advantage of this. Of you.

His thumbs make soft circles around your nipples, loving the way your back arches a little in your sleep and a needy little sound rises in the back of your throat. You want this, really. Your body is so receptive to him, clearly you want this!

Maybe you even left that window open for him? Maybe you knew he was following you. Maybe you’d fallen for your sweet little stalker. For your precious pervert. For your romantic rapist. Maybe this was your plan all along. Maybe he’s really just giving you what you want!

The thought sends his heart pounding in his chest. He pulls away from the one-sided kiss to admire you, gaze softening as he imagines how much you must want this. Want him. To go through all this trouble just to let him enjoy your body…

“I love you too,” his voice is a warm whisper against your neck, nuzzling into your skin to catch your scent. It’s another thing he needs to memorise before the night is over.

His hands drift down, tracing a line from your belly button to your pelvis. He cups you, feeling your warmth against his hand. Your legs slide apart easily for him, like you want his hand to keep exploring between your thighs.

His lips trace over every inch of your skin he can reach without moving you. His hand works slowly between your legs, fingers coaxing until your arousal is evident. It only fuels his delusion. Only makes him more certain that you want this. Why else would your body react to him the way it does?

You twitch and drip under his hand. He focuses on the feeling of it, closing his eyes and committing it to memory. The feeling of your body reacting to him. Reacting so well, so positively to his attentions.

He wants to savour it all. To take his time, go nice and slow. He wants to spend the whole night having his way with you. But he’s impatient. Its been so long. He’s been thinking about you, following you, craving you for so long.

He needs to taste you.

“Forgive me,” even he doesn’t know who he’s asking forgiveness from. You? God? Himself? Whoever it is, he seems to find absolution in the soft moans his hand draws from your sleeping body.

His lips trail down to join his hand, desperate to taste you. He pauses for just a moment, nose nestled in the curls between your thighs to take in your scent. Another thing for him to remember as he touches himself to thoughts of you later.

There’s a deliberate softness to his lips as they begin to worship you. He relishes your taste on his tongue, kissing and licking and sucking. Indulging himself in you. The most decadent, sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

It’s like the first bite of a forbidden fruit. It drips down his chin, fills his mouth, delights his senses. It’s a thrill, the thrill of doing something he knows he shouldn’t. Of doing something he’s wanted to for so long.

After the first taste, he’s insatiable. He can’t seem to get his fill of you, going down on you like it’s his only chance to live. He needs the taste of you to linger on his tongue for weeks. The feel of you under his lips to be seared into his memory.

It’s indulgent. He’s being selfish. Allowing himself to do something he’s wanted to do for so long. For once, not focusing on your happiness. Focusing instead on his own, his own happiness and pleasure. Giving himself something to think back on when he inevitably returns to the shadows.

But he indulges you too, in his own way. His lips and hands work diligently to bring you pleasure. Your soft moans, the gentle stirring in your sleep as he gives you the most wonderful dreams… it’s for you, as much as it’s for him.

He doesn’t stop until he tastes your cum on his tongue. He drinks it down, savouring it like the most rare and precious liquid on earth. His eyes stray up to your face, heart pounding at the thought of you waking up like this. To your body shaking with orgasm, him watching from between your legs as he eases you through it with his tongue.

Part of him longs for that recognition. For you to know who he is, how much he loves you, how good he can make you feel. To look in your eyes while you cum for him. He needs to be known by you.

But… it’s over too soon. Your body returns to its limp slumber as you twitch against his tongue. He pulls away, not wanting to risk overstimulating you. No, as much as he’d love to slip his cock into you, he’ll have to take care of himself.

His eyes stray over to your dresser. He doesn’t want to make a mess, after all… It’s so easy to slide the drawer open. To let his eyes stray over the stack of underwear. To grab a couple of pairs and return to your bedside.

There’s a little fumbling with his jeans before he gets his cock out, wrapping one of the pairs of underwear around it and beginning to stroke. The other pair comes up to his nose, and he takes a deep breath, eyes glued to your face.

It doesn’t take long. He muffles his moans with the underwear pressed to his face, biting down on the fabric to keep quiet as he cums in the other pair. How could he last, watching your blissful sleeping face? The taste of you lingering on his tongue?

Besides, he knows he doesn’t have much longer. He needs to be quick, stuffing the clean pair of underwear in his pocket as he fixes his pants. The other pair, he folds up and slips back into the drawer. He hopes you won’t notice. That he’ll get to watch you walk around in them one day, blissfully unaware of his cum.

He lingers by your bedside for a moment tucking the sheet back around you. He smiles when you roll over and give a gentle snore, still fast asleep despite everything. He leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

And with that he creeps back out the way he came, sliding the window closed behind him.

#swwsdj #something's wrong with sunny day jack #sdj nick #nick herraras x reader #gn!reader #18+ only #sunshine #dark side of the sun #crosspost

[twigg96]

hiya love!!

I know I was just as shocked to hear people have WIP folders lmaoo

could we get a little sneak peak for the preturn Merle fic cause 😭I want to ask about Avery x Daryl so bad but I want it to be a full surprise ;)

sending good vibes, love you!! <3

Hello @asgardianhobbit98!! You absolutely may have a peek of The Book of Merle!! 👀❤️ I’m so happy you’re excited for your surprise and I hope you enjoy this snippet!!

Prologue

Rating: M

Characters: Merle Dixon, William Dixon (Father cannon), Lizbeth Dixon (Mom OC)

Warnings: Mentions of Child Abuse and Neglect, underage drinking, arrests, removal of children from homes into foster care,

The Book of Merle

From the time Merle was little, he knew and understood the rules right away. He had to in order to make it in the Dixon household. It was ingrained in him. Forcibly. Carved into his very skin. Over and over. His momma always told him his first word was Daddy then his second Shhh. It was even then in his subconscious known that there was a danger and it needed to be avoided.

Rule Number One:

Don’t make too much noise in the mornings when daddy first wakes up, especially not before he has his first drink. The welts on his back and his mother’s black eyes were proof enough of what could happen if he strayed from this rule. His Daddy did his damnedest to provide for his family the best he knew how… Or so that’s what he said. He always went out to the shed in the woods and made that “liquid gold” that was clear as far as Merle could tell and made him a nicer man to be around when he drank it. Said it was refreshing. Merle assumed it was like when he pressed his lips to the water pump outside, letting that cold spring water rush past his lips in the heat of the summer. But when he pressed his lips to one of the mason jars he found one day when he was all but six years old and his momma and daddy were preoccupied, busy in their room having kicked him out of the house for the day, Merle found that the drink burned like hell but eased his worrying mind in a numbing way that he found he liked.

Rule Number Two:

Never ask questions when dad gives you important business to do for his work, just shut up and get the job done quickly. Merle didn’t adhere to this rule once. Just once however. His father had advised that he skip school and take the long way to a “colleague's” house where he was to drop off the mason jar he placed in his knapsack. But the familiar warm feeling of the “liquid gold” his father made called out to him oh so loudly. He wanted another taste even if it was just one. And so instead of heeding his father’s words to follow the rugged deer trails around the mountain Merle followed the main roads he always took to school. How would his father know if half the jar was gone by the time he arrived at his friends? How wouldn’t he know he hand just… spilled it? But then the police pulled up. And everything moved so fast. Too fast. And before he knew ir he was sitting in holding waiting for his momma to come get him and his daddy to come with his belt.

Rule Number 3:

Never cry if your belly ain’t full. It ain’t right not when momma and daddy work so hard to put what they can on the table while yer at school.

Rule Number 4:

Never make momma cry, it makes her makeup run and when it does the bruises show through. The ladies at work like to ask questions and call the cops for her getting their noses in her business like it’s their job to care.

Rule Number 5:

Can’t never tell yer teacher what daddy did for work. If they ever asked he had to say he was waitin’ for a good management position.

Rule number 6:

Whats hunted is shared or we all starve. In the same breath. We give back to the forest for it feeds us and gives us shelter from the dangers that exist in life. If we do this we will always have a place to hide when things get really bad. The woods will always be the safest place.

Rule Number 7:

Most importantly… Hide when the people in suits came calling from CPS they were never any good and only ever took ya away momma and wanted to keep you from protecting her.

See… Merle knew these rules… he learned them through experience. And knew them all like the back of his hand. He learned how to skate between braking them and keeping them in check. Daryl however… born 8 full years after Merle. He didn’t. And Merle really didn’t want to teach him. But… if he didn’t, who would?

#please follow them #please check them out #thank you for the ask! #thank you sooooo much #my fanfiction #fanfic #The Book of Merle #prologue #fanfiction #the walking dead #twd #twd daryl #merle dixon #twd merle #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead Merle

[elleloquently]

sneak peek for coffee shop au/college!ellie x female!reader

please note - this is not the full completed part!!! this is just an extended sneak peek as an apology for it taking so long due to how busy i've been from uni ): when the entire fic is finished, i will tag those who asked to be added to the list

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　

the late summer air might've subconsciously motivated ellie's walk that day, her relaxed demeanour acted as a foolish guise from her anxious thoughts. she usually waited until the last possible minute to leave for class, but something today was different.

maybe she hoped that if she walked around for awhile, her body and mind would tire themselves before class, leaving herself sleepy with concentration instead. maybe she hoped that her early start would somehow prompt a late arrival to class, giving her an excuse to just not go.

ellie sighed, squinting in the sun. it was too early in the semester to start that bad habit.

she came across a little campus cafe on her wander, quickly recognizing it as the one that dina had frequented. she hesitated briefly, trying to peer through the glass windows in a not obvious way. it looked relatively empty, compared to the usual crowd, so ellie dragged herself inside.

the air conditioning instantly hit her warm skin, causing goosebumps on her arms. a small group had claimed a table by a window, chattering away with laptops covering the table top. ellie wasn't exactly sure what she was looking for, and the line was pretty short, not allowing her much time to think. ellie lingered in the doorway, wondering how strange it may appear if she turned on her heel and immediately exited the establishment right after entering, until she heard possibly the sweetest voice to ever hit her ears.

"have a nice day," you regarded softly, handing someone their drink with a quick smile.

you were still relatively new at the job, fumbly and awkward with the interactions. your previous job had sucked. your co-workers were mean, you were paid basically nothing, and you were left with little time to complete assignments. your final straw was getting yelled at over the phone by your manager after calling off of work with the flu.

finally gathering the courage to quit, your friend had rallied you up to work at a campus cafe alongside her. the idea of that sort of work scared you, talking to customers, making drinks, but the pay was good and the hours were flexible. you put in an application and by the end of the week, you had started the training process. it was relatively comfortable, until your friend had suddenly decided to quit and left you alone.

"sorry," she had apologized weakly. "i think i might pick up doordashing or something instead."

you pushed out a quick sigh, drumming your fingers on the counter before plastering a smile on your face, moving to greet the next customer.

ellie craned her neck, trying to see the owner of the voice above the heads of the people that stood in line. once her eyes landed upon you, ellie sucked in a breath. she moved wordlessly into the line, no plan of action in mind.

she watched, dazed, as you entered orders and nodded. when you turned around to grab something and ellie spotted the bow that you were wearing in your hair, her palms began to feel warm. she strained her ears, desperate to hear your voice again above the sound of conversation and the typical coffee shop music.

ellie didn't even notice that there was another person, some guy, also behind the counter until he switched spots with you, greeting a different customer.

fuck, ellie thought, rapidly looking around to watch where you were going. you disappeared into the back, behind a set of secretive doors. ellie's heart sank. she would be up soon, and she didn't even know what she was doing. she didn't want to talk to some random guy.

she just... wanted to talk to some... random girl?

fuck.

someone else wandered into the cafe. ellie contemplated making that person's day, wondering if she should just leave the line. of course she should, this was stupid, but then you reappeared. you were carrying a small brown box, and huffed at a strand of hair that had fallen into your face.

ellie was almost up, and she rapidly began praying to any type of higher power that would listen. please don't let it be the guy, please don't let it be the fucking guy-

"hi," you greeted automatically, restocking a small display of reward punch cards. "what can we get for-" you finally dragged your eyes upwards, freezing at the sight of ellie.

your gaze widened and you mentally cursed yourself for having a horrible poker face. the girl standing in front of you was extremely attractive, to say the very least. you felt trapped in her green-eyed gaze, hand hovering above the cards that you were previously toying with.

ellie cleared her throat, shifting awkwardly on her feet. if anyone's voice matched their appearance perfectly, it was yours. you looked doe-eyed, caught off guard, and ellie's face flushed.

you blinked at the slight cough, snapping back into customer service mode. "what can i get for you?" you asked, pointedly changing the we to i. she had freckles. the smile you offered wasn't forced, but genuine.

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. she had to actually order something, not just stand there and stare at you. it was ellie's turn to be wide eyed, as she scrambled to pinpoint something from the menu. god. she really didn't want to be that person. you had all that time waiting in line, just pick something for christ sake!

you stood awkwardly, smile wavering as you waited for a reply. at least while the cute stranger was distracted by the menu, you could use the opportunity to stare.

mentally, ellie was a mess. she had held the skill of reading for the majority of her life now, but ellie couldn't make sense of a single word that was displayed on the menu. everything blurred together and she could feel your eyes on her as she scrambled for something to say.

"uh, what do you recommend?" ellie questioned, meeting your gaze. her cheeks burned when she noticed that you had winced. ellie wasn't being cute or friendly, she was being annoying. the last thing that you probably wanted was to rattle off a list of seasonal beverages you had been asked to promote. ellie mentally cursed herself, but you were stuttering for an answer before she could take her inquiry back.

"oh! um, well there's the..." you glanced over your shoulder at the seasonal drink specials, and ellie held back a grimace. poor fucking girl, she thought.

your face burned. you were still pretty new to the job, and honestly, penny pinching. despite the few that you've snuck during your shift, you hadn't tried many of the drinks yet. you so badly wanted to have a quick answer, something to impress her with your amazing taste. instead, you faltered, taking too long to answer.

"sorry," you laughed, shaking your head sheepishly. "i'm pretty new to this," you explained, ignoring the stare that you were getting from your co-worker. please don't ask to help me, you silently pleaded. despite the awkwardness of the interaction, you didn't want it to be cut short. you wanted to know if her freckles were always that visible, or if they popped out more due to the summer sun.

"that's okay," ellie said, a little too quickly. she looked down at the nametag that you wore on your apron. your name was written neatly, in your own style with a mix of cursive and regular letters. you had drawn a little flower next to your name.

"that board has some of our summer features though," you explained, finally regaining your footing. you nodded in the direction of a display board. "they're super popular, people really like them. i've tried the lavender one actually, it's super good. uh, we unfortunately don't get the pumpkin spice stuff in for... two more weeks, i think? so... i'm sorry about that," you quietly rambled, wringing your hands.

"pumpkin spice? it's barely september," ellie commented, wrinkling her nose. her attention was drawn to your nails, painted perfectly and neat. she wondered how big of a fool she would be making herself out to be if she attempted to flirt with you.

you shrugged, grinningly bashfully. "it's good," you resigned.

noted, ellie thought. i like pumpkin spice now. ellie opened her mouth to ask about the lavender thing, but the girl behind her in line obnoxiously cleared her throat.

ellie's eyebrows raised and you glanced apologetically at the other girl, who was tapping her foot.

"i'll be right with you," you commented. the girl scoffed and ellie's lips twisted at the sound. you were so sweet, wasting one of your pretty smiles on someone who didn't deserve it.

"yeah, no big deal," the girl replied sarcastically. "it's not like i have a class to get to or anything." she looked around the room, trying to garner support for herself, but no one was paying attention.

"i'll be right with you," you reiterated with a harsher tone. ellie fully blushed, feeling guilty for delaying the interaction. now you were getting backlash and your co-worker was completely eyeing you up, and ellie felt at fault for it. you met her eyes again, apologizing with a sad smile. ellie's grip on the strap of her bag tightened.

"sorry," ellie mumbled as her cheeks burned. "i'll get, um-"

the girl in line sighed again and ellie lost her train of thought, noticing that you were holding back your frustration with a tight smile. finally, a good idea emerged in ellie's head. she knew dina's order by heart. dina was certainly a creature of habit, at least when it came to her food and drink orders. ellie had heard dina order a million times.

ellie confidently allowed dina's coffee order to roll off of her tongue. you blinked in surprise as she gave specific directions, a direct contrast to how clueless she had seemed just a moment ago.

you frantically entered the order into the system, scared of making a mistake and looking dumb. "hey," you called softly, gaining the attention of your co-worker. you recited the order to him, to which he nodded in understanding.

"what's your name?" you asked politely. you grabbed a sharpie, waiting.

ellie's heart skipped a beat and she thought maybe she would have stood a chance, until she realized that you were asking for the drink and not because you genuinely wanted to know.

except, really, you did want to know. having to ask was just a perk.

"ellie."

"ellie," you repeatedly warmly. it was the best thing that ellie had ever heard. "i like it," you mumbled, grabbing a cup from a stack.

"thank you," ellie mumbled, watching as you wrote her name on the cup. your teeth pulled at your bottom lip in concentration, determined to use your best writing. once you had gotten to the second L, you looked up.

"oh," you realized sheepishly. "you can go wait at the end," you gently instructed her. ellie could've facepalmed herself for her stupidity, but didn't want to drag herself away from your presence. ellie wanted to say something more, but failed. she did, however, feel as though she had caused you enough trouble for the day. ellie gave you an awkward smile, as genuine as she could manage, before moving to step away.

once ellie had turned away, you realized your mistake.

"oh! wait!" you called, your voice louder than it had been all day. ellie froze, wondering if she had done something wrong or maybe you wanted to ask for her number.

the girl who was supposed to be next groaned.

"i'm so sorry," you whispered once ellie's body was in front of you again. "i forgot to have you pay," you muttered your confession, humiliated as your co-worker made a tsssk sound.

ellie thought that after this, she might drop out of college and move somewhere, maybe the country. somewhere far away from civilization.

"fuck," ellie swore under her breath, quickly rummaging through her bag for her wallet. "sorry," she said. you gave her the total, eyes lingering on ellie's tattoo while she swiped her card.

"um, do you want a reward card?" you asked, your voice sounding more robotic compared to before.

ellie was ready to automatically say no, but she took in the sight of your rounded cheeks and bashful smile.

"i would love one," ellie replied, and she felt as though her body jolted when your fingers grazed hers, handing over the card.

"if you buy nine drinks, the tenth one is on us!" you chirped, clearly haven gave this spiel before.

"jesus, nine?" ellie grumbled, and to her horror, your smile dropped.

"that's a great number!" she exclaimed awkwardly, scrambling to fix her mistake.

you nodded. "have a good day," you dismissed, and ellie's stomach lurched.

as ellie made her way to the end of the counter, she heard an exasperated "finally!" before you began to mumble apologies. ellie rolled her eyes. asshole.

when her name was called and she was handed her drink, ellie froze. her name, written pretty in your handwriting, punctuated with a doodle of a smile. her pulse quicked, and ellie wondered if she had always been this pathetic or if she had just gotten soft.

before she left, she turned around to give you one last look. you saw her heading for the door, and strained your neck to look at ellie once more before she was gone. you made eye contact, and ellie almost did an awkward half wave that certainly would've kept her up at night, cringing.

you tore your eyes away from ellie, mentally cursing yourself. but god, she was cute.

ellie shook her head discouragingly, once again met with the warm breeze of the afternoon as she stepped outside. she stared down at the little smiley on her cup. ellie frowned. she didn't really like coffee, but she also didn't want to throw it away. she heaved a sigh, holding the beverage as she began her trudge to class.

the doodled smiley carried ellie on a high throughout the entire day.

#ellie williams x reader

[fanfic-inator795]

WoY: A Decade Later (A personal retrospection)

Wander Over Yonder… for a time, it was - in my opinion - the best cartoon ever. It was my number one, and I wasn't sure that anything else could top it. While I don't necessarily feel the same way these days, it's still a cartoon that very much lives in my heart and I don't think I'll ever truly leave it behind.

From a personal perspective, it was probably the biggest and most active Fandom I had been in at that time. It wasn't my first fandom/hyperfixation - prior to WoY, there had been Cartoon Network's Chowder and Regular Show, as well as Disney's Phineas and Ferb. But Chowder was short-lived and RS and PnF were both shows I had lost interest in due to them beginning to dip in quality.

WoY, however, was new, fresh, exciting and growing rapidly. It inspired me to write probably at least a hundred fanfics. It was a blast live-reacting to new episodes with everyone and seeing all the art that would come afterwards. It brought me into the RP scene and, if not for that, I might have never met my best friend of 10 years (and counting! Love you, Tessa).

Looking back on it 10 years after the fact, I can't fully say that WoY is still my favorite cartoon (shows like Kid Cosmic, The Ghost and Molly McGee, Big City Greens and Craig of the Creek have all outshined it in one way or another), nor can I claim that it is/was a perfect show. But man… It sure was a hell of a ride.

(Keep reading for all my admittedly VERY LONG personal thoughts or opinions regarding this one of a kind show)

Humble Beginnings

Pretty sure I've mentioned this before, but I actually didn't care for WoY at first. It was the summer right before college, and I remember watching the sneak peek - The Picnic - early one morning after not being able to go back to sleep. I remember not really laughing much or even seeing the appeal… and yet the episode stuck in my mind, to the point that I ended up watching it again during a free moment I had from Freshman Orientation Week. I had a similar reaction to the show's proper pilot, The Greatest - not loving it, but not hating it either.

The fact that people/friends from my RS and PnF days were also posting about it helped keep the show in my mind (shoutout to Taylor, Erin and Darkwing). But it wasn't until two specific episodes - The Fugitives and The Good Deed - that I managed to finally start to connect with the characters myself. 

I started to see the appeal in this little furry orange spoon who just wanted to do good and make others happy, even when it was a struggle. I really liked the show's core theme of not just optimism and positivity, but also just being kind. I also started to really enjoy the show's sci-fi and space aesthetic and grew to adore its animation and gorgeous backgrounds, as well as laugh at its wacky sense of humor (I still laugh at The Fugitives/Good Deed quite a bit, even though I probably have their entire scripts memorized at this point).

So, it was official. I was hooked. Whenever there were new eps, I'd either try to watch them on the basement TV in my college dorm or wait for a livestream or FreeCartoonsOnline upload. If we're being honest, the first half of season 1, while being much more low-key than the wackiness that the show would end up eventually shifting to, was probably when it was at its most consistent. Other eps later on would reach higher highs, but getting stuff like The Bad Guy, the Prisoner, the Troll, the Pet, the Box and The Little Guy back-to-back just made my love for the show grow more and more.

The Little Guy specifically is one that is just incredibly well-crafted in its dialogue, story-telling and pacing, being both enjoyable and heartfelt. (Also the last time I watched it the ending made me bawl so, there's that, lol). Shortly afterwards, The Hero was another ep that I distinctly remember sticking in my head for whatever reason (Dracor and Demurra are still adorable, ngl). Then we had another favorite of mine, The Nice Guy.

I know I may be in the minority on this one - I remember my parents being annoyed and frustrated when they watched it with me, haha - but I absolutely love this episode. I find the jokes funny enough - the cashier is one of my favorite minor characters tbh - and the space gas station appeals to my aesthetic. But what really sells this episode for me is how it handles and portrays its moral of "being nice isn't always easy, but it's still right and still worth doing". Its ending never fails to get an "awwww" out of me, and honestly I could probably go on for an hour about all the little details and things I like/appreciate. I've also grown to really like its sister episode, the Time Bomb.

But no show is perfect, and right around here is where the show, in my opinion, started having some misses. It was mostly just "meh" affairs like The Night, The Toddler and The Big Job (weird, since I usually like heist eps… though I haven't rewatched this one in a while so *shrugs*). Other eps like The Tourist and ESPECIALLY The Helper (which I consider to be the show's worst outing, the vibes are just SO WEIRD on this one) I just didn't care for at all. 

Nothing terrible (save for the Helper), just cases of the jokes not landing or the stories being boring. This was also when the show really started leaning into the wackiness - which wasn't BAD persay, since it led to some really funny jokes and memorable moments when it was used well - it's just that looking back, I sorta miss the simplicity of early s1.

Thankfully, the season put out some real bangers by its end, with my personal faves being The Epic Quest (that ending will never not make me cackle. Again, it's a case of the wackiness actually working incredibly well), the Halloween/Christmas special, and the Rider, which is a great adventure to cap off the season and also the Horse from Horsin’ Around guest stars in it! (and does a pretty good job too. Will Arnett is def one of my favorite celeb VAs at this point, ngl)

So yeah, between the two seasons, s1 is easily my favorite. Call it nostalgia or personal taste, but for me it's all about that consistency. Adding in the fact that s2 has some pretty notable flaws and is thus a lot harder to look back on without noticing those flaws, and it's really no contest for me. 

New season, New problems

I certainly remember the excitement - as well as the fandom's stir craziness - in the lead-up to s2. There were crackships that were invented, silly RP blogs were rampant, Craig McCracken and crew (back when they were still on Tumblr) kept us fed with cool behind the scenes info as well as sneak peeks of the new season, and while I can't recall when it specifically happened, I also vividly remember the 'Bad End to Episodes' phase that the fandom was in at one point. Ah, the joys of still being in your angst phase.

Come that year's Comic Con, and a new round of hype came from the reveal that our new villain of the season was going to be a girl! …yeahhh, it sorta sucks recalling how hyped we all were about Dominator now that we know that she didn't quite work out the way we were all hoping for…

But regardless, s2 had a very strong start. Outside of the premiere, my favorites of this first batch would easily be The Boy Wander and The It for both just being incredibly funny. Although, if you had asked me at the time though, I probably would have said the Skeleton Dance fueled eps that were The Big Day and the Fremergency Fronfract - and like, yeah those eps can still be funny and enjoyable, but I've definitely cooled on the Skeleton Dance ship since these eps first premiered. (Still love a lot of the cute fanon stuff though)

Skipping past the next tent-pole episode for right now, this season had two of my favorite episodes of the ENTIRE SERIES - these being The Cartoon and The Black Cube. The former is just hilarious while the latter has a unique visual presentation and feels like an early s1 ep, and I mean that in the best possible way. I also really enjoy the Eye on the Skullship as well as the Hole… 'Lotta Nuthin' (this one especially, as it's another instance where, for as good as the ep is as a whole, it's the heartwarming lesson and hilarious ending that makes it such a winner in my book).

But for as much as the show was still putting out hits, I'll admit that there were also quite a few meh or just okay eps, especially as the season goes on. Some eps I found funny when I first watched them, but that humor doesn't hit as well when I watch them now. I also feel like there were points where it tried to be TOO silly to the point where it inhibited the actual humor and made the characters flatter and a bit flanderized compared to how they were in s1 (Hater especially got hit bad with this, where it’s less about him ‘softening up’ to show that he has the potential to be a good guy, and more just him constantly leaning into him being a bratty teenager instead of having that mix of dumb/bratty teen boy and legit evil conqueror).

Other times, it was just another case of a story not being as good as it could have been - and by this point in the season, while there are still enjoyable eps with fun concepts/jokes in the latter half of the series, the only one to get near the peak of the show's typical high quality is the musical ep, and if we're being real, it's Andy Bean's impeccable songwriting that saves this ep and makes it so good to rewatch despite its connection to the season's flawed overall story.

And I think it's about time we talk about that…

Not Quite Ready for Serialization

Being a show that was made right after Gravity Falls but before stuff like Star VS, Amphibia, and Owl House, s2 of WoY felt like a show with one foot stuck in episodic stuff and one foot trying to step into serialization. Because of this, the season’s overarching plot feels incredibly underbaked.

Now… Am I saying that I’d want the show to be like ATLA where every episode had to relate back to either the overarching story or one of the side-arcs? No, absolutely not. We’d be missing out on some of my favorite one-shot episodes if they did that, and if I had to choose between the season we have now and the season we could have gotten had the WoY crew gotten more freedom and were allowed more serialization, I’m going with the former each and every time.

HOWEVER, I still have to acknowledge just how poorly done the structure of this season was when it came to the overarching story. Basically we got four tentpole episodes acting as the season’s beginning, arc shifts and ending. During the season’s second and third arcs, there would be certain episodes afterwards reacting to the change in the show’s status quo.

Now, I get what they were TRYING to do but in my opinion it just really didn’t work as well as it could have. I’ll talk more about this in a bit but the season’s second arc (the “romance” arc) definitely got tiring after a while, meanwhile the third “Stop Dominator” arc felt like it was sort of killing time given that it was mostly just the main 4 trying to find some sort of weapon/figure out some sort of plan that ultimately resulted in some ‘funny’ failures and some quick lessons, with the occasional character piece thrown in here or there.

Now, I didn’t hate these episodes. By this point, it should be evident that one of my favorite elements of WoY are its morals and lessons, so even if the episodes themselves didn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things and were essentially filler, I can at least appreciate a message like “being sad doesn’t mean you’ve given up hope” or “allowing yourself to laugh even in the dark times can help a ton”. So yeah, not completely pointless.

Unfortunately, even with a few bright spots here and there, the overarching plot of s2 still feels underbaked somewhat - and that’s ultimately because of the new character its focused around.

Dominator’s Dilemma

Okay, fess up. Whose idea was it to completely exclude Dominator from the first six episodes of the season (after the s2 premiere)? Because WOW does this decision backfire a lot. I don’t even like Dom that much and I can still acknowledge that she needed much more screen time and focus than she got.

I don’t know if this was to build up the ‘mystery’ surrounding her or because they wanted to get back in the groove of writing the main 4, but this was the crew’s first crucial mistake. Hell, in the first two episodes she plays an active role in, she’s nearly silent in both of them, only having her little fangirl rant in The Greater Hater and a small handful of lines in The Battle Royals. (Which, if I’m being honest, is still a really fun episode for 90% of it, having both great action and absolutely hilarious jokes that still make me laugh, but I get the ending of it making people sour on the episode as a whole.)

Again, it felt like trying to build up this artificial mystery surrounding her when it really wasn’t necessary. Dominator was meant to be a MAIN MEMBER of the cast! Yet I’m pretty sure Emperor Awesome got more significant screen time than her in the end!

Things got a teeny bit better as the show went on, with Dom at the very least getting more lines and more moments to be both badass and totally villainous, but she still felt more like a goal/obstacle than an actual character. I’m not sure if the writers MEANT to do this persay, or if it was just an accident.

Ultimately, it wasn’t until The Night Out when Dom finally got a spotlight episode… which was a little over 3/4ths of the way through the season. You could argue that she also got a bit of characterization in the musical episode, but it was really more emphasizing what we already knew or could infer about her. 

The Night Out, meanwhile, gives us something new - that she’s lonely - and we get a teeny hint of this again in The Robomechabotatron before being told outright in the series finale. Ultimately, it truly does feel like too little too late - especially when her secretly desiring friends just sorta feels like it’s aping off Hater’s secret motivations of wanting to be liked/admired and to have friends/people who love him for who he is.

So yeah, the crew completely dropped the ball on Dom’s characterization, using her as just a goal/threat/obstacle/etc. for nearly all of her appearances. Not only does it make Dom feel like a shallow character, but it also just feels unfair in general. Practically everything we know about Dom is for the sake of other characters.

She’s a test for Wander, an enemy/temporary love interest for Hater, an obstacle for our main four to overcome, and a threat to the characters we already love. Again, there’s nothing wrong with having a character that’s only meant to serve a purpose in the narrative, nor is there anything wrong with a character being shallowly evil… it’s just that the WoY crew hyped her up so much and claimed that she was a fifth main character (implying that she would get about as much development as the main four), so it just felt all the more disappointing when we didn’t get that. Add in her character design - a mix of goth/punk girl energy with Hartman Hips - and it does feel just a tad misogynistic.

There were things I liked about Dom - her cool lava powers and gadgets, her excitable personality, her villain spotlight moments, and her fun vocal performance provided by Noel Wells were all excellent. But unfortunately, these were all surface-level elements, and the crew just didn’t put in enough time to give her much else, essentially saving all her deeper character stuff for the never-made season 3…

A love-hate relationship (leaning towards hate)

Of course you can’t talk about Dom without discussing the season’s second arc, which many see as both a tumor on the plot and the absolute low point of the season. Admittedly when I was watching the season for the first time, I didn’t mind the romance arc all that much. I didn’t care if Dom was getting short-changed, I was too busy laughing at Hater falling all over himself like a dork and thought all the ‘critics’ of the arc were just focusing on the wrong thing and didn’t know how to have fun with a silly cartoon.

Obviously, this was the wrong perspective to have about this sort of thing (I was in the mindset of “I don’t want to accidentally make myself hate this thing I love so I’m going to ignore all criticism of it”. Definitely not the right approach), one that I still apologize for because the critics were totally in the right. From both an objective and a storytelling standpoint, this arc was just the worst - and for several reasons.

Leaning into the overall problem with Dom herself as mentioned previously, this arc was focused solely on Hater and Wander (and to an extent Syl and Peeps as they tried to talk some sense into their respective friends). Whenever Dom was brought in, she either used Hater’s crush to mess with him or just ignored it entirely, being obviously annoyed - and that was the extent of focus that her feelings got.

Outside of those moments, however, Dom’s feelings are relegated to the background, deemed as ‘unimportant’. Sure, in the climax of the arc, she gets this big whole musical number about how she’s “not the damsel” and isn’t interested in Hater’s affections - but again, it’s at the VERY END of the arc and the moment is less about Dom standing up for herself and more about emphasizing just how cruel she can be, as instead of simply rejecting Hater’s advances, she laughs in his face, continuing to mess with him to try and make the rejection as painful as possible before ultimately trying to kill Hater.

But while the arc ends in a showy (and admittedly still kinda fun, thank you Andy Bean and your musical talents) way, the way it starts sorta proves why this idea was so rotten to the core. The ONLY reason why Wander tries to get Hater and Dom together is ONLY because he knows Hater wants a GF and believes that a ‘positive’ thing like love could only ever result in the two villains finding happiness and no longer being evil. Nevermind the fact that Wander is shown only really caring about Hater’s perspective, not once considering Dom’s feelings or even asking if she wants a BF or romantic partner in general.

We get Syl calling him out on this a couple of times, but it’s in that ‘oh that Wander, always with the crazy ideas’ way. You’d think Sylvia, the icon that she is, would be just a bit more blunt and maybe even a bit harsh about how Wander’s treating Dominator - it’s not just a matter of it being a dumb and dangerous plan, but it’s essentially objectifying Dom, treating her like Hater’s missing piece. But hey, it’s fiiiiine, because Wander learns his lesson in the end, right? Except, no not really.

Because even when Wander FINALLY realizes this and feels guilty about causing so much trouble, Syl is more concerned with comforting Wander about it, because he TRIED to do what he thought was right and that “acknowledging you messed up is the first step towards making things right”. Like… yeah I guess but you could have let Wander actually acknowledge what he did was wrong and super messed up, focusing more on the personal aspect of how his whole romance scheme affected Dom AS WELL AS Hater (not JUST Hater) instead of how his scheme broke Hater’s heart and inadvertently made Dom more powerful.

(Also we see Wander shipping and actively pairing up the little Pikmin things in “The Sky Guy” soooooo no I don’t think he fully learned his lesson)

I also have to bring up how there are fans who view Dominator and her whole anti-love thing as aphobic. As someone who only recently figured out she was almost definitely aromantic, I’m certainly not the authority on this, but I can certainly understand the critiques.

What I THINK the WoY Crew was trying to go for was a ‘strong female villain who don’t need no man’, but between Dom constantly being described as ‘heartless’ and Peeps saying that he “doesn’t think she likes anybody” and her cruelty being turned up to 11 whenever someone expressed romantic feelings towards her, it does sorta imply “She can’t love and THAT’S why she’s a villainous monster” rather than simply “she’s a villainous monster”. And because we don’t get any real development or strong characterization with Dom, it’s hard to say where exactly her cruelty comes from, so it’s hard to really argue against these implications without simply inserting headcanons like “Dom is a lesbian”.

Now to be fair, I have seen some aromantics see Dom as good representation - I recall a month or so back when I saw people praising her after she was included in one of those Tumblr polls, with this one being focused on aromantic characters, saying that they liked how she didn’t sugarcoat her rejections and seeing her as this strong, cool, badass villainous who didn’t need romance. So yeah, obviously not every person who shares an identity is going to agree on representation and whether or not it's good, but considering all of Dom’s baggage and the inability to determine whether or not her heartlessness is the cause of her evil or simply a by-product of it, I personally feel like she’s just too messy of an example of a potential aro character.

(Honestly, Syl feels like a better example of an aromantic character to me, given that she and Ryder seemed just as platonic as she and Wander are, as well as her multiple rejections of Awesome and general disinterest/discomfort with romance. Buuut given that those latter examples are specifically with villains and thus it makes sense why she’d reject them regardless of her orientation, it’s still just a vibe/headcanon).

Before I close off this section, I do wanna acknowledge that beyond the potentially aphobic nature of Dominator, WoY’s LGBTQ+ rep isn’t nearly as great as I thought it was once upon a time as a young shipper. Some parts are still pretty okay, like Wander being coded as genderfluid/agender, but overall it still feels more like an old Looney Tunes cartoon than an episode of “The Owl House”, if you get what I’m saying.

In Craig’s defense, the man has never been all too interested in romance in his shows nor has he claimed otherwise - he either uses it as a joke while portraying it as a negative (see Ms.KeenexProf.Utonium, BlooxBerry or, obviously, DomxHater) or it’s a wholesome relationship that ultimately still stays in the background because it’s not all that important (see DracorxDemurra or Ramona and Carlos Flores from “Kid Cosmic”). 

BUT given that there were LGBTQ+ crew members working on the show in s2, such as N.D. Stevenson, as well as LGBTQ+ allies, it is a shame that no proper representation came of that. We got a whole episode where the joke was “oh, Wander and Hater are planning Wander’s execution like it’s a wedding”, an episode where Peeps and Hater essentially break up when Hater fires him, and an “I just can’t quit you” sort of moment from Peeps in the s2 finale when he goes all heart-eyed over Hater deciding to continue being a villain. That’s it, all jokes but nothing substantial. Even the show’s number one lesbian/wlw pairing of SylxDom got a quick Girls Night montage and one sweet moment between them, nothing else.

Again, it’s fine if you’re just looking for jokes, and yeah the WoY Crew never outright promised any romances… buuuut given how much they chose to lean into the Skeleton Dance and DeathGlare stuff while at the same time never outright confirming any of these characters as LGBTQ+ (they didn’t even have to make any ships canon, they just had to say whether or not Wander/Hater/Peeps were gay/bi/pan/etc), I’m not gonna invalidate people who feel just a bit queerbaited about the whole thing.

Bittersweet Goodbyes

As I said before, I was starting college when WoY first premiered. It’s the show that led me to my best friend and it’s the show that helped me through those first two years of college (easily the roughest part of college). It was a show that made me laugh and got me excited, even during the times where I was stressed out or worried. For all its flaws, it was one of the brightest lights in my life at that time.

So, needless to say, when I heard the show was canceled, I was devastated. I remember crying about it that night and even the day after, and I remember joining in as many online strategies as possible to try and get the show back, from letter writing to petition signing. Of course none of that worked, but as a bright side, going through this helped emotionally prepare me for the next time one of my favorite shows was suddenly canceled (looking at you Nickelodeon. Though considering how the RotTMNT movie turned out maaaaybe it was for the best…)

Honestly, for as much as I can look at the show through a critical lens nowadays and point out all the ways it could have been better, I think there will always be a small part of me that wishes we could have gotten some sort of continuation, whether it be through a special, a TV movie or a comic - or hell, I’d even take the plans for s3 leaking at this point. Now, given that the end of WoY brought about the creation of “Kid Cosmic”, I feel like this part has faded a bit, but I’m always gonna want closure on things like Hater’s arc as well as his origins given how much they were teased.

But that in itself is another critique I could give the show. Whether it be Wander facing a different type of threat that wasn’t just another villain, Hater’s transition into becoming a good guy, Peepers getting fed up with his boss and striking out on his own, or Dom’s true characterization that the crew kept insisting was there - the show simply saved a lot of it’s most interesting ideas for a potential Season 3. It was a gamble, and it was one they ultimately lost. It sucks, but it is what it is.

There’s a few more things I could critique about the show, such as its take on the idea of character redemption and Wander becoming a bit of a karma houdini that the show pretty much stopped calling out, and while these critiques are valid I feel like there are other fans who could do a better job talking about those points. But in the end, while season 2 was both a let down in some parts and a bit of a mess in others, I still feel like there were ultimately more good things to be found within the show than bad things.

It’s not a perfect show, far from it. Frankly, I don’t look down on anyone who fell out of love with this show or enjoyed s1 but hated s2. But for what it’s worth, the memories I got from the show are still ones I treasure, and episodes like “The Good Deed”, “The Little Guy”, “The Nice Guy”, “The Epic Quest”, “The Rider”, “The Boy Wander”, “The Black Cube”, “The Hole… Lotta’ Nuthin’” and “The Cartoon” are ones I still love to bits and will probably always love as I watch them over and over.

Disney Channel itself may not care all that much about this show these days save for an occasional rerun or a quick cameo in their Chibi-Verse shorts, but I’m always gonna remember it - for better and for worse. So here’s to 10 years, WoY. I may not always like you, but I still love you.

#wander over yonder #woy #long post #personal thoughts #personal opinions #fair warning this is VERY long hence the read more #wasn't tempted not to post it because of the length #but this show was such an important part of my life #and I wanted to get all my current thoughts out about it