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buckysgrace · 4 months

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2. My Heart Can't Tell You No

Pt 2 to Every Little Thing :)

Gator Tillman x OC

CW: Cheating, blowjobs

“This is when all the kids would get together,” Ruby proclaimed proudly as she flicked through the photo book with Hugh, “They always got along so well.” Daphne felt her eyebrows knitting together at her mother’s words, her eyes caught Noelle’s as they appeared to be thinking the same thing. They got along well enough now, but there had been many fists thrown and tantrums caused by one another in their youth.

Hugh had one leg crossed as he sat near Ruby, scanning through many of her photo albums from Daphne’s childhood. She felt her cheeks reddening, knowing that there was more than one picture of her in there running around with no diaper on.

Daphne peeked over Hugh’s shoulder, scanning the photos briefly to confirm that Gator was also included in the pictures. She was sure that he was in as many photos with her as her siblings. She felt her heart beating a little faster as the guilt settled into her stomach again, eating at her until she could no longer look at the pictures of them.

She felt worse than awful. She felt as if she’d for sure damned herself to hell now. There was no way Hugh would ever forgive her if he found out. She didn’t think he should forgive her either. There was no excuse for what she’d done. She hadn’t even protested, fought to not to do it. She had wanted Gator just as badly.

She thought about him continually as the days rolled by, her mind torturing her with the image of him on his knees in front of her. She sat next to Hugh, crossing her legs as she desperately tried to think of someone else. Anything else.

“You bathed together?” Hugh raised an eyebrow, looking a little concerned as he faced Daphne. She parted her lips, leaning over to get a better idea at what he was looking at. Her and Oliver couldn’t have been any older than four in the picture, which meant that Gator and Noelle would’ve been about six. August would’ve just turned eight at the time. A smile crept onto her lips as she looked at the bubble beard she had put on Gator.

“As kids,” Daphne defended as she looked over into the photo book, “He was like another sibling.” She muttered softly as she leaned back against the couch, knowing that it wasn’t like that at all. She had never thought of Gator as a brother, not once.

“Please,” Oliver snorted as he brought his soupy ice cream up to his lips, “You had the biggest crush on him in high school.” He responded dryly, blinking softly as he waited for her to deny it. She sat forward, her cheeks burning at his accusation. It was true, but she had done a good job at hiding it. There was no way that he knew. “I did not,” She shrieked in horror as she threw a pillow at his head. Oliver yelped, nearly dropping his ice cream onto the floor, “You’re such a liar.” She told him pointedly, feeling more on edge the way everyone kept teasing her about Gator. She wanted to keep herself from spiraling, feeling like everyone would know the truth if she didn’t deny them.

“Watch my pillows,” Ruby said in a huff as she gave the two of them a stern look, “Stop being such a child, Daphne. Oliver, stop teasing your sister.” She said at last, shaking her head as she turned another page. Hugh looked at Daphne a little amused before he looked down at the album again.

Daphne turned, making sure that Ruby was distracted before she stuck her tongue out at Oliver. He returned the favor, making sure to curl his lip up and scrunch his nose as he did so. She rolled her eyes before she settled back in the chair

Her eyes drifted to the old western that was playing on the TV, trying to think of anything but how she’d so easily cheated on Hugh. She felt awful, shameful as the memory of Gator’s fingers digging into her thighs came forth. She had thought of him when she’d showered the night after, how his fingers always reached parts of her that she wasn’t able to get.

“I don’t remember you mentioning him.” Hugh said a little later once everyone had dispersed from the living room. Daphne hummed softly as she looked at the album from her high school years, wrinkling her nose as she remembered how badly she’d hated her braces.

“Who?” She asked him as she examined her prom picture. She had nearly stuffed her bra, until Noelle had convinced her otherwise. She had been pouty at the time, but now she was grateful. She could only imagine how awful it would’ve looked. She was more than happy with how big her boobs had grown.

“That uh,” Hugh paused for a moment, looking like he was rehearsing what he was trying to say, “That Gator boy. Why would you not tell me about him?” He furrowed his dark eyebrows together, his eyes filled with confusion as he watched her.

“We don’t talk anymore,” Daphne told him seriously, trying to ignore the fresh shame that settled inside of her gut. She still couldn’t believe she’d let Gator weasel his way in again so easily, “We were really close as kids and we just grew apart. I don’t see what the big deal is.” She shrugged her shoulders, hoping to shut the conversation down.

“I was just asking a question,” Hugh defended himself a second later, “I didn’t mean to offend you.” He said a little softer, his eyes gleaming like he looked guilty. She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to ignore the guilt that was burning inside of her. She knew she had snapped at him for no reason. She was the one in the wrong.

“You didn’t,” Daphne sighed deeply, feeling a little bad with how snippy she’d grown, “I don’t want you to feel bad. They used to tease us about getting married one day but we just never liked each other like that. He was a friend.” She replied softer, feeling a little less stressed at the topic. She had rehearsed and practiced for so long about how calm and collected she’d remain when Gator was brought up, but all of that seemed to go out the window.

“Okay,” He said slowly as he watched her, his hazel eyes looking at her inquisitively, “What happened? You seem bothered by him.” He admitted to her, looking like he was concerned as he nudged his shoulder against hers. She sighed as she moved her leg underneath his longer one, linking the two of them together.

“It’s just annoying,” She said as she huffed deeply, “I’m marrying you. I don’t know why they need to bring him up all the time.” She replied as she set the photo album down, trying to avoid the pair of brown eyes that seemed to be staring up at her.

“Why did they want you to marry him?” He asked her curiously as he turned to face her better. She looked down at her lap, pressing her fingertips against her knees as he pushed her bangs from her face.

“My mom was best friends with his mom before she left,” Daphne said softly, “They grew up together. His dad and mine got really close in return. He works for him.” She shrugged her shoulders softly, feeling like that was the end of the story. She didn’t want to talk about how Gator had been her whole world, how she used to dream about marrying him the way everyone teased her about doing. They wanted different things and she’d found that with Hugh.

“What does a sheriff do anyways?” He asked a new question, tilting his head as he waited for her response. She grinned as she looked up towards him, matching the smile that rested on his lips.

“I don’t know,” She admitted with a laugh, grinning at the way he squeezed her thigh, “Basically enforces laws, I think.” She said slowly, not really ever dwelling on what Roy did. Hugh leaned forward to kiss the top of her head.

“I think I’m going to take a nap,” He said softly once he pulled away, “I still feel like I should be sleeping right now.” He admitted. She nodded her head, noting the bags that were underneath his eyes.

“I’ll see you later.” She told him sweetly, grinning as she leaned over the couch to smack at his butt as he walked away. He blew her a playful kiss before he strutted into the guest room down the hallway. Her parents had been insistent that they didn’t share the same room, even though they were engaged.

Not that it really mattered. Hugh wasn’t much for snuggling or kissing anyways. He claimed it to be a sensory thing, but she often wondered if it was his lack of experience. They’d only brought up sex once or twice, but he’d never touched her in such a manner. He never watched her undress either, always shied away when she’d quickly change in their bedroom.

“Mama,” Daphne whined as she walked into the kitchen, “Please stop bringing Gator up around Hugh.” She said desperately, raising her eyebrows high as she pouted her lips out. Ruby’s blue eyes met Daphne’s in surprise.

“Why?” She looked at Daphne confused, “You two were really good friends and we did really think you were going to get married. Until, well…” She trailed off, giving Daphne a knowing look. She huffed in frustration, feeling like she would never hear the end of what could’ve been between her and Gator.

“Gator and I were never together,” She reminded her mother quickly, “You should set him up with Noelle. They’re the same age.” She said with a shrug of her shoulders, trying to keep as stoic as possible. However, the thought of Gator with anyone else still filled her with jealousy.

“Do you want Gator with Noelle?” Ruby asked in amusement, her dark eyebrows raised high as she waited for Daphne to answer. She fiddled with the kitchen towel, drawing her nails across the simple design as she did her best to deny her feelings. Three long years of trying to erase him and she still felt like nothing had changed.

“Why does it matter what I want?” She asked softly as she finally stopped fiddling with the towel. Gator hadn’t ever wanted a relationship and she wasn’t going to let him string her around forever. She deserved to move on, to be happy.

“You know it’s odd,” Ruby said slowly as she rested her hand on her hip, “You still can’t give me a straight reason as to why you ran off.” She tilted her head, holding her eyebrows up highly still as she waited. Daphne traced the constellations across Ruby’s cheeks, wondering how badly she’d hurt her mother when she’d left.

“I told you, I was doing missionary work,” She shrugged her shoulders as she kept her face down towards the window, not wanting to give anything away, “Then some of the other girls wanted to take a trip through Europe and I joined them.” She said briefly, acting like she hadn’t left without saying anything.

“But you didn’t even go to summer camp when you were little because you hated being away from home,” Ruby replied quickly, still digging for answers, “What changed?” She asked her in confusion. Daphne paused, wishing she could be honest for once. She feared that if she started telling her about everything that had happened, she’d never stop. She shook her head, deciding it was best to keep secrets instead.

“I just grew up.”

////////////////////

“What do you do again?” Bruce asked for the third time the next day. He was sitting at the dining room table, all dressed up for the fishing trip he was taking the boys on for the day. Daphne dragged her eyes up slowly, pausing as she dropped the butterknife back into the jar of mayonnaise.

“Daddy,” Daphne looked at him as she sighed deeply through her nose, “We talked about this. He’s an artist.” She pulled a bright smile to her lips, hunching her shoulders together as she tried to feign being positive. Bruce, as expected, was taking the longest to warm up to Hugh. She had prayed long and hard last night that Bruce wouldn’t try and drown Hugh.

“Oh, right,” Bruce responded, still looking disgruntled, “Do you make a lot of money doing that?” He asked with his nose curled up. Daphne looked towards Hugh, noticing his panicked expression as his lips parted. She dropped her head and looked towards Ruby, searching for help.

“Bruce.” Ruby warned as she gently nodded her head in Daphne’s direction. Daphne was sure that Ruby didn’t look like much of a threat to most people. She barely reached Daphne’s shoulder, had a petite frame and always bore a dazzling smile. Daphne knew the truth, however. Ruby was the one to be wary of.

“It’s just a question,” He said in defense, “I just want to know how he’s going to take care of my daughter.” He said, feigning a smile as he turned his attention back to his hunting magazine. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes as she knew what this was really about. Bruce had been the least supportive about her engagement.

“Well,” Hugh looked a little uncomfortable as he rubbed his palms against his hands, “It depends. Sometimes the money is good. I think Daphne wanted to do more of her singing.” He said as he motioned towards her, his lips curling up into the softest smile. She felt her eyes widen, realizing that Hugh had forgotten that they weren’t supposed to talk about her singing.

“Singing isn’t a job,” Bruce replied dryly, giving Daphne a stern look as he reminded her. She shuffled lower as she sandwiched the pieces of bread together, wishing that Hugh hadn’t brought her up, “Besides she can’t. She’ll have to look after the children.”

“Children?” Hugh stuttered out, his eyebrows raised wide as his features mixed into horror. She felt her own face heat up, knowing that children hadn’t really been discussed. She wanted kids and figured he had to, as that was sort of the point of marriage. However, his reaction didn’t seem like he felt the same way.

“After you get married,” Bruce said slowly, like Hugh couldn’t comprehend his words, “The children that you’ll have. I’m not letting you live on my land just to chase after some silly dreams.” He said pointedly as he leaned back in his chair, referencing the whole point of them moving back here.

France was expensive, far too expensive. She supposed they could’ve made it work somewhere out of the city, but Hugh was right. Sometimes he went months making very little money and she didn’t make very much money working in a bookstore while she finished off college. He didn’t speak to his family for unknown reasons that he had yet to tell her about.

Bruce was paying for everything. Her dress. Hugh’s tux. The location, the flowers, the food and music. There was not one thing that Bruce would not be financially aiding in them other than the ring that Hugh had got for her. Most of the guest list that was compiled was people that Bruce wanted to invite.

And as a gift, Bruce would be building a house for them on part of the land. No cost. Daphne didn’t feel like she had a right to say anything against Bruce’s wishes. She owed him a lot. She only hoped he’d warm up to Hugh and not try to make him an outsider.

“Go get loaded up,” Ruby said, effortlessly changing the subject as she finished piling the sandwiches into the baggy. Daphne passed her the apples, then the chips, “You won’t catch any good fish if you wait too long.” She reminded him quickly.

Daphne waited a second later, leaning against the counter as Bruce mumbled under his breath. She waited until she no longer heard his heavy boots tapping against the wooden floors. She watched the way the rays of sunlight dipped into the room and cascaded against them.

She glanced towards Hugh, feeling bad as he struggled to get his boots laced up. They were an older pair of Oliver’s, very worn and probably stinky. She scrunched her nose at the thought, watching as Ruby carried the bags filled with their lunches out the door.

Hugh and Daphne fell into silence. She chewed on her bottom lip, as the guilt burned deep inside of her chest. She felt terrible for how she’d treated him, how she’d betrayed him. The feeling only burned deeper the worse that Bruce behaved.

“Your father doesn’t like me,” Hugh said slowly, making her wince at the hurt in his words, “I don’t think the animals do either.” He replied a second later, looking to be deep in thought. She felt her lips twitch into a smile, thinking of how the chickens continually chased him around.

“He will,” She promised him as she squeezed his hand, “He’s just tough. He’s been tough on all of us.” She told him truthfully, thinking of how Bruce had allowed for her to sing in the church choir but nothing past that.

Hugh still didn’t seem too enthusiastic about going, but Daphne feared that it would only grow worse if he didn’t at least try with her dad and brothers. Not that August or Oliver seemed to be the issue. She had pulled Oliver aside before they left and made him swear that he wouldn’t let Bruce do or say anything too harsh.

She thought that she would distract herself after, not wanting to linger in the house and pour over picture books that would just make her heart hurt. Everything still reminded her of Gator, like she had some ghost of him lingering about her. She blamed it on her shame, on how horrible her actions had been.

She went into town instead, determined to bury her thoughts through spending money and eating her feelings away. Not that it ended up working very well. She ended up catching up to distant friends, former teachers and friends of her parents. They asked about her trip, about Hugh and to her dismay, Gator. It was all busy talk, each one of them trying to dig around for some sort of gossip that they hadn’t heard of.

By the end of the day her head was aching so badly that she feared she’d given herself a migraine. Her bags were cluttered in the passenger seat, though she felt like she was no longer happy with her purchases. Nothing could erase the guilt and shame that was swirling inside of her chest, threatening to boil over as she touched her fingertips against her painted lips. She thought of Gator again, how nicely his mouth had molded against hers

She shook away the memory as quickly as it had come to her, trying to ignore the rush of desire that formed in the pit of her stomach. There was no use in dwelling on the way Gator touched her as it was never going to happen again. She promised herself that.

“Shoot.” Daphne cursed as the sirens to the truck eventually turned on. She inhaled deeply through her nose before exhaling through her lips as she pulled over to the side of the dirt road. She leaned over the console, digging through the old papers until she found her proof of insurance. She twisted at the crank until the window was lowered low enough to see out of.

“You know why I pulled you over?” She heard his voice before she locked eyes with him. She gaped, looking at Gator in disbelief as she shook her head. She dropped the papers, deciding he had no reason to pull her over in the first place. He just wanted to irritate her.

“Gator,” She huffed in frustration, “What on Earth are you doing?” She asked him seriously, trying to decide if it was worth it to hit him with her car door. Perhaps it would knock the cocky smirk off of his lips.

“Your tags are out,” He drew out slowly as he tapped his fingertips against the windowsill of her truck, “Which means you can’t be driving this old thing.” He curled his lip up, giving her a mock shrug like he actually regretted what he was saying.

“Don’t kick my truck,” Daphne said pointedly as she watched him. It had been her grandfather’s from the seventies. A chevy that sat low to the ground, the white paint was peeling and no matter how often it was washed, there was always a layer of grime on it, “I didn’t know my tags were out. I haven’t been here.” She reminded him softly.

“Shucks,” Gator said playfully as he shrugged his shoulders, “I guess you should’ve checked that out before you drove it. Sometimes you women just aren’t very bright when it comes to cars.” He teased her, his brown eyes gleaming as he scanned her features. She picked up his tone, thinking that it sounded like he was lost in a memory. She hoped it was the time she’d yanked out a fistful of his hair when he’d insisted that girls had cooties.

“Ha,” She blinked, hiding the way she was rolling her eyes, “I’ll go in tomorrow and get my car inspected.” She said briefly as she reached for the crank, wanting to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. She turned away, unable to look him in his eyes for too long.

“Need to search ya.” He drawled out slowly, his lips curling up softly as he leaned against the truck. She snapped her eyes up towards him, hating how cocky he still looked.

“What?” She looked at him in disbelief, “Why would you have to search me? My tags are out. That’s it.” She held her hands up, understanding that he knew full well that she wouldn’t have anything bad hidden away.

“We could call it probable cause if you really want,” He said as he turned his lips into a frown and pretended to think about it, “Why don’t you just get out of the car and let me do my job?” He asked as he tapped at her windowsill before taking a few large steps back.

Daphne sighed audibly, but did as he asked. She could remember the way he used to rough house as kids. She didn’t feel like having him drag her out of her little truck. She slammed the door with a little force, shooting him an irritated look as he touched the small of her back and forced her to face the car.

“Spread them,” He said sternly before kicking his boots against her shoes, making her spread her legs wider, “C’mon. Don’t be such a bitch about it. You’re the one driving around with expired tags.” She felt a moan die on her lips as he slowly dragged his thick thigh between her legs and then pulled away.

“Gator,” She gasped as he pressed her forward roughly, “Please.” She squeaked out softly as she used her palms to keep herself balanced against her truck. She held onto it tightly, fearing where her hands might go if she let go.

“What?” He asked as his hands found her hips. He rubbed his calloused fingertips back and forth slowly, just enough to press the hem of her shirt up so he could rub his bare skin against her own. She breathed in deeply, trying to ignore the sparks that traveled up her spine.

“Nothing,” She said quickly, hoping that he didn’t catch onto the desire that was building in her stomach. She swallowed harshly, trying to ignore the guilt that was rising in her bones, “Just get it over with.” She mumbled as she looked ahead, grateful that he couldn’t see her face.

He hummed in response before he began to pat up her hips, doing it rough enough to make her flinch at the first touch. His movements got gentler, slower as he moved further up her torso. She breathed out harshly, trying to pretend like she wasn’t slowly trying to press herself back up against him.

“What’s Frenchie issue?” He hummed softly, her body twitching forward as he brought his fingers down against her ticklish ribs. She fought back a giggle, trying not to get annoyed as he purposely did it again.

“What do you mean?” She asked as she swallowed down her laughter, feeling a little nervous as his fingertips moved up further and further. Her skin felt like it was burning, liquid fire spreading through her veins as Gator’s fingers lingered underneath her boobs. He was silent for a moment, his breath warm as he pressed closer against her.

“Why won’t he fuck you?” He questioned huskily as he whispered into her ear, lightly brushing his tongue out to lick against her earlobe. Her breath caught in her throat as he cupped her boobs in his hands, squeezing roughly as he pulled her back against his warm body.

“He’s a gentlemen.” She whispered when she found the courage to speak. All of her guilt and shame had left, replaced with lust as his fingers pressed lightly into her skin. Gator snorted as he continued to knead at her tits, his lips dragging against the crook of her neck as he pressed his thigh between her legs again.

She moaned softly as he pressed his thigh further against her wet heat, rocking her back and forth slowly as he nipped at the side of her neck. She tilted her head, trying to find the urge to dismiss him from her. His tongue flicked across the base of her neck, trailing up slowly as he dragged it across her cheek and to the corner of her lips.

“You don’t like gentlemen,” He mumbled as he moved his fingers against her spine, before he dipped her fingers up her shirt to unclasp her bra, “You like being treated like a whore.” He responded as he pulled away, leaving her struggling to fix her bra into place.

Her face was hot again, but not from embarrassment as he slowly took a hold of her hands. She breathed out roughly, trying not to think about how well their hands molded together. A soft grin forming on his lips before he pulled his hands away and gripped the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head.

“Gator,” She choked out, feeling exposed as he gripped her bra and tossed it aside. His breath tasted of strawberries this time as he leaned in closer to her, his nose pressing against her skin as he dragged his nimble fingers up her arm again, drawing goosebumps against her skin, “I don’t think this is how you search someone.” Her heart was hammering in her chest as she found the courage to bring her eyes up towards him again.

“You could be hiding something,” He said simply as he traced one of his hands down to her left boob, earning a yelp from her as he pinched her pink nipple, “Strip the rest of the way and bend over.” He said as he took a wide step back. He cocked one of his hips out, resting lazily as he waited.

She could feel her fingers twitch in anticipation as his gaze burned through her skin, like he was examining each exposed inch of her. She darted her eyes from left to right, peeking at the dirt road but she knew that no one else would be coming out this way.

She slowly rolled her shorts down her thighs, bringing her panties down with them. She hoped that by keeping her clothes rolled up together he wouldn’t try and run off with another pair of her underwear. Her heart hammered roughly in her chest as she gripped her ankles and bent over, fully exposing herself to him. She was glad for the night sky, for the odd position so he couldn’t see the way her face was burning.

“God,” He breathed out slowly, sounding far closer to her than she expected, “You’re telling me he’s never touched this?” He asked her seriously. She jolted forward, shutting her eyes tightly as he brought his palm down against her wet cunt. Her legs burned from the position, but she stayed still in fear that he may pull away.

“No,” She whined softly, “Gator, c’mon.” She whispered out, although she wasn’t really sure what she wanted. Her body reacted on an instinct, purring as she pushed her hands up to her knees and rocked herself back against his fingers.

“Whatcha want baby?” He teased her as he dragged his long fingers through her wet folds. She exhaled deeply, curling back as he lightly brushed against her clit. She didn’t care about anything else right now, just about how badly she wanted him.

“You,” She responded as she desperately turned around, “I want you.” She breathed out, sure that her eyes were wide and crazed as she stepped closer to him. His eyes traveled down to her lips, watching her mouth as she spoke.

“You don’t want your pretty boyfriend?” He knitted his eyebrows together as he tilted his head, feigning confusion as she felt like she’d been slapped. She remembered how wrong this was, how terrible her actions were.

She teetered back and forth for a moment before she couldn’t control her want anymore. She didn’t care about Hugh at the moment, and didn't want to think about him. This could be the last time with Gator. She just needed one more taste before she was done.

“Gator,” She sighed deeply as she gripped at the material of his vest, “Please.” She begged him softly, fluttering her eyes up at him as she tried to pull him closer to her. Despite it being so hot earlier in the day, she was growing chilly from the cool air dancing against her bare skin.

“You look pretty begging,” He grinned as he tucked her hair behind her shoulder. She lingered against his touch, feeling like a cat who wanted more pets, “Get on your knees.” He said briskly, cupping his hand over her shoulder before he forced her down.

She yelped softly as she hit the ground hard again, her knees already reddened from their previous encounter. She thought of how he always enjoyed marking her up, even though it was in places no one else would see.

She moved her hands to his thighs, eagerly clawing at the rough material of his pants before she reached to undo his belt. She could feel her heart hammering roughly as she inspected the gun on the side of his thigh, thinking about the time he’d made her suck on the head of one of them.

“I thought you didn’t want to do this anymore?” He questioned her as he gripped her chin, giving her a soft squeeze, “What changed?” He asked huskily as he stared down at her, his brown eyes even darker as she wiggled her way closer to him.

“I want you.” She whispered pathetically as the rocks dug harshly into her knees. She pouted her lips out, hoping to convince him as she nuzzled her face against his skin. His lips curled up, looking satisfied with her answer as he gave her face one last squeeze before he released her.

She felt nervous suddenly, thinking about how she hadn’t done anything like this for three years and he had certainly slept around in the time since she’d been gone. She unzipped his belt, tugging his pants down just enough to stare at the large bulge that greeted her.

She ran her fingertips across his boxers slowly, her eyes watching in fascination as she thought of the way he used to roughly jerk his hips against her hand and the prettiest sounds that left his lips. She pulled his boxers down, giggling at the way his cock popped out.

He was large, even longer than the ones that she’d seen in porn when they’d watched it together. He was slightly paler than the rest of his body and his tip was a nice pink that seemed to match the color of his lips.

She wrapped her hand around him slowly, enjoying the way he throbbed against her palm as she spread some of his precum down the length of his cock. Her eyes felt heavy, similar to the way he felt in her hand as a sigh left his lips.

She kitten licked around the tip of his cock, savoring the taste of his precum on her tongue. She slowly flicked the tip of her tongue against his slit, enjoying the guttural moan that left his lips. She could feel the heat spreading between her legs as she desperately fought the urge to move a hand down and touch herself.

She slowly wrapped her lips around his pink tip, feeling a little encouraged by the way he slowly began to pet through her hair. She forced her jaw to relax, struggling for a moment as she tried to grow accustomed to how he fit inside of her mouth again.

She slowly bobbed her head up and down the length of his cock, squeezing her thighs together at the rough moans that Gator was creating. It sounded better than any song she’d ever heard. She hollowed her cheeks, determined to hear more of those sounds as her desperation to please him rose.

Gator’s fingers slipped through her dark red locks, gripping her strands tightly as he slowly pressed his hips forward. She shut her eyes tightly, gagging as his tip slid against the back of her throat. She gripped a hold of his hips, trying to pause his movements for a moment so she could recollect herself.

She inhaled sharply through her nose, trying to calm the rough way her heart was beating as she picked up her movements again. She swirled her tongue around the ridges of his cock, earning another groan from him as she slowly pressed more and more of him into her mouth. She enjoyed the way he felt in her mouth as she flickered her tongue around his ridges, enjoying the sensation of him.

His cock felt heavy in her mouth as her lips burned from the stretch of him. She slowly dragged her eyes up his abdomen, up his chest until she was greeted with his features. She felt herself moaning around his cock, her clit throbbing as she took in the look of pleasure on his features. She had seen his expression wrinkled up into pleasure hundreds of other times, but somehow this felt different.

He huffed deeply as he rocked his hips forward, moving slowly as she continued to keep a steady pace around his cock. She could feel her movements becoming a little quicker, longer as she tried to fit more of his cock into her mouth. She moved her fingertips to his pink balls, squeezing them softly in her hand to earn another groan from him.

Drool began to leak from the corners of her lips as she bobbed her head with his languid thrusts, her fingers digging into his thighs as he rutted into her mouth. She was fighting the urge to gag as his tip pressed against the back of her throat with each of his movements.

She kept her eyes peeled to his features, drinking in the image of him as his brown eyes fell onto her again. She could feel a giddy feeling forming in her chest as she dragged her tongue along his heavy cock. She liked the way he was watching her; she had always enjoyed being the center of his attention, always craved it. She used to hate when he'd attract the attention of other girls. She had wanted him to herself at one point.

She thought that he was the most handsome person she’d ever seen. She stared at the way his eyebrows knit together as he tilted his head gently back, how wide his lips parted as the sounds rolled off of his tongue. She had an urge to kiss every inch of his skin, to feel his cock dragging inside of her walls instead of her tongue. She pushed his cock further inside of her mouth, desperate to impress him as she rolled her tongue against the base of his cock.

“Fuck,” He spit out as he fisted her hair tightly, squeezing roughly as his movements became more sporadic. She gagged this time, spit leaking free as he fucked into her mouth, “Jesus. Shit, shit.” He cursed as he pressed his hips forward harshly, dragging her roughly by her hair as he pressed roughly into her mouth.

She gagged hard, blinking away the tears in her eyes at the sudden intrusion as his salty cum filled her mouth. She closed her eyes, continuing to flick her tongue across his cock to ensure that he wasn’t leaving anything behind. She felt crazed suddenly, remembering that this could be the last time that he touched her like this.

She stood urgently, gripping a hold of his shoulders for support as she slammed her lips against his. He molded easily the way she had a few days previous, one of his arms wrapping around her waist to pull her closer.

She stood on her tippy toes, moving her palms to his jaw to get better leverage as she slowly rolled his spunk off of her tongue and into his mouth. He groaned in response, his nose brushing against her cheek as their tongues molded against one another's.

She moaned as she rocked her hips forward, her thighs wet with slick as she desperately wanted to feel him touch her. He bit down on her lip, a soft sigh leaving his lips as he gently tugged on her mouth. She whimpered in response, her eyes gleaming over his cocky features in lust.

“You gonna go home and touch yourself, yeah?” He mumbled as he dragged his hands against her hips. She breathed out roughly against his mouth, sharing the same air as him as he pressed his fingers lightly against her clit. She nodded her head desperately, praying for him to do something to her.

“Yeah,” She flicked her tongue out against his mouth again, urging for him to kiss her again, “Whatever you want.” She told him truthfully, offering herself up freely. She’d do whatever he asked right now. He just had to say what.

“Send me a picture,” He bit his bottom lip as he gripped her soft face again, his fingertips digging into her skin as he roughly tilted her eyes up towards him, “Let me know if your boyfriend can taste me on your tongue.” His lips grew into a menacing smirk before he pulled away, taking slow strides backwards until he reached his vehicle.

She was beyond frustrated, her clit throbbing between her legs as her jaw dropped in surprise. She watched the way he sent her a playful wave, how he paid no attention to the way she shyly tried to cover herself as he quickly drove off.

Her hands shook as she dressed herself again, taking a moment to search for where Gator had tossed her bra aside. She felt dirty, her thighs wet and sticky as she took the uncomfortable ride back to the house. She didn’t know how she was supposed to face Hugh again, or how she was supposed to have any dignity. It was like she wasn’t in control of her own actions.

She didn’t have to carry her shopping bags far, as Hugh walked out of the house as soon as she stepped out from the truck. She paused, nearly tripping over the ground as she examined the way Hugh was walking. She felt worried, already feeling a lump in the back of her throat as she was sure she’d been caught.

“What happened?” She asked instead, horrified as she tilted Hugh’s cheek to look at the bandage on his skin. She shook her head in disbelief, hoping that it wasn’t anything that Bruce had done to him.

“Fish flew off,” August answered as he clasped Hugh on the shoulders, giving him a soft squeeze as he laughed, “And the hook got stuck in his cheek.” He replied, grinning wickedly as he twisted his finger into a hook and pressed it against Hugh’s cheek.

“Your father hasn’t stopped laughing,” Hugh replied pitifully as he swatted August’s hand away, “He can’t even look at me now, he just laughs.” He spit out as he pouted his lips out in dismay. Daphne covered her hand over her mouth.

“Oh, Hugh,” She drew out softly, although her mind was still focused on how she could still taste Gator on her tongue, “I’m sorry.” She said a second later, trying to hide her laughter as she was suddenly overcome with emotions. She was glad she was at least laughing and not crying like she wanted to do. She felt the need to scrub her skin clean.

“Now you’re laughing.” He whined, sounding like a small child as he brought his hand up to his sore cheek. She shook her head, blinking away the tears that had formed in her eyes as she thought of how ridiculous she was being. She felt jittery with her worries as she thought about how hurt he’d be if he knew what she had been doing.

“No, no I’m sorry,” She giggled softly as she gently touched the bandage on his cheek, “Oh, it happens to the best of us. I have a scar from a snake bite on my ankle.” She offered, trying to make him feel better as he pulled his face away from her.

“Oh yes,” Hugh said sarcastically, “Compare a snake to a little fishy.” He said teasingly, his hazel eyes sparkling as he watched her. She held a smile to her lips, trying not to think about how she didn’t get the same butterflies that she got when Gator looked at her.

“Just think,” She said softly as she moved her bags to one hand and used the free arm to hold onto his bicep, “Now you’ll always have something to laugh about with my dad.” She reminded him, although she knew it wouldn’t make up for the many memories he already had with Gator.

#Gator Tillman #Gator Tillman smut #Gator Tillman x oc #Every Little Thing #Daphne Williams #Gator x Daphne #Fargo fx #fargo season 5

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fortuositywritings · 3 years

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I Said No (Wanda x R): Pt 9

Summary: You get your ass handed to you. You have fun times with Wanda only for a rude awakening.

Warnings: a lot of cursing, alcohol

If anyone asks her, Laura loves her cousin. She loves you. She really, really does. But sometimes you were a bit of a pain or rather a handful and everyone knows pregnant women should not be carrying too much. So, she can’t help but be glad that there are other people here to help lighten the load.

Is it wrong that lightening the load includes allowing her husband’s ex-assassin of a best friend to basically manhandle you, said cousin she claims to love so much, at 6am in the morning? It may be a little worrisome, yes. But what is really wrong here is how she is sitting front and center, watching it all happen in front of her a little too amusedly.

Could you really blame her though? She’s pregnant. She knows she wouldn’t be able to stand watching you get thrown around, especially on her swollen feet.

It seems everyone woke up early to watch Nat “teach you self-defense”. You’ve been outside for an hour now and no one has moved from their seats. Oh, no that’s a lie. Clint did go inside once, only for him to come right back offering everyone some lemonade. Even the critters are there sitting criss cross next to Pietro on the grass sipping on their lemonades.

“So when does the self-defense part start?” you ask, out of breath. You weren’t doing anything, but falling on your ass repeatedly sure makes one sweat.

“When you start defending yourself,” Nat quips. You respond with a baffled, “What?!”

“Arms up, Y/N!” you hear your cousin shout as you prepare yourself to get thrown again.

“Look, if you are still mad about the Yelena Incident, I’m sure there could have been another less violent way to get your frustrations out.” Nat rolls her eyes and in what feels like a second, there are legs wrapped around your head in not a sexy way and you are flipped onto the ground.

“OH!!!” Everyone yells, as you feel the wind knock out of you. You hear the kids shouting, “Do it again!”

“No, don’t do it again,” you wheeze out. You feel someone rush to your side.

“Are you okay?” Wanda helps you sit up. An angel, that woman. She turns to glare at Nat. “Did you really have to do that?”

“Relax, she’s fine.” Nat answers, not bothered in any way. Either she’s blind or she’s delusional thinking you took her go-to take-down-the-bad-guy move like a simple scratch on the knee. Wanda gets visibly upset by Nat’s careless demeanor, little wisps of red magic trickling from her hand. She moves to confront Natasha and you think it might be you that is delusional when you stop Wanda, red wisps tickling your hand, and say, “It’s okay. I’m good.”

“See!” Nat throws her hands up.

“You should have put your arms up,” your cousin says off to the side. You narrow your eyes at her after Wanda helps you up. “Yes, Laura. Thank you so much. That would have really saved me from her spinny-upsidedown-flippity-whateverthefuck that was.”

Sam and Clint snicker beside your cousin at your description of Nat’s signature move. She gives you the watch-your-language look that you completely ignore. “Why don’t you come and show me how that was meant to help?”

“Can’t. Pregnant. Sorry,” your cousin motions to her belly. You shake your head, “Excuses, excuses.”

“I do know some self-defense though and I think it is really important to learn so I’m rooting for you on the side lines,” Laura adds. Not believing a word she said, you ask, “And who taught you self-defense? ‘Cause I know for a fact it wasn’t Nat. You wouldn’t be cruel enough to put me through the same torture.”

“I taught her. She’s a pretty decent shot too,” Clint admits proudly.

“No way. You can shoot?” Sam looks at Laura as skeptical as you do. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Hun, bring out your gear,” your cousin says, getting everyone excited. Pietro and Sam help her stand and move over to get a clear shot of where Clint put up a target. Everyone stands aside and watches in anticipation when Clint hands his wife a bow and an arrow. She nocks the arrow back, aims, shoots, and nearly hits the bullseye, leaving everyone’s mouth agape.

“Okay, impressive,” Sam says.

“No way. You made that look way too easy. Let me try,” you say, wanting to give it a go, and a go you give alright, the arrow ricocheting off a tree (not even the tree that had the target on it) and heading towards Peter’s face. Luckily his reflexes or what he’s described as some kind of tingle kicks in and he catches the arrow on time.

You let out a sigh of relief seeing that you have not accidentally killed someone. You didn’t want to be a murderer let alone be known as the asshole that killed Spiderman by accident. You flood Peter’s ears with apologies and though he says it’s all good, you still feel really bad and ask Wanda if she could help you bake him some cookies or something later.

Everyone heads inside after that near death experience. Everyone but you and Nat who says, “Playtime’s over. Let’s do this for real now.”

“Wait, that wasn’t it?!”

Another two hours go by. Wanda wonders why you haven’t barged in the room yet to “bother” her. You should have been done undergoing Nat’s painful lesson by now. Finding it odd that you have yet to make an appearance, Wanda sets out to find you. She sees Natasha sitting at the kitchen table. When she asks her about your whereabouts and gets a “Who knows” as a response, she knows something is up. Nat always knows, so Wanda presses, “What did she say and where did you leave her?”

Natasha eventually tells her where you are. Wanda finds you outside, hosing yourself off. You are covered in mud, which Wanda can only assume was Nat’s doing. “Why did you have to antagonize her?”

You look up to see Wanda staring at you unimpressed, arms crossed and all. You defend, “You have to admit, had you the opportunity, you would have done the same.”

“You mean tell her you’ve now had two Romanov’s thighs around your head and then ask where her mom was because you wanted to ‘complete the set’,” Wanda says, uncrossing her arms to do air quotes.

“Come on, let me have this, Wanda. You should have seen it! It was glorious. The set up, the delivery, the punch,” you throw your arms in the air dramatically, hose in hand splashing water everywhere. Your body aches and you yelp, “Ow.”

Wanda only shakes her head at you. You pout and turn the hose off. “I’ve never met her mom, but she probably would’ve at least chuckled appreciating a good line. I know Yelena for sure would’ve tried not to giggle before kicking my ass as well.”

Wanda doesn’t mean to let out the grunt of annoyance at the mention of this Yelena, but it happens. Luckily, you either don’t hear it or ignore it as you pass by her, stopping to take off your shoes by the door. Before heading inside, you turn to her and coyly ask, “Do you think you could help me wash some of the mud away upstairs? I don’t think I can reach some parts on my own.”

It doesn’t take a psychic to know Wanda helping you scrub your back is not what you actually have in mind. She tries her best not to stutter as she says, “Of course, what are friends for?”

You head up to the shower first. Wanda waits downstairs two minutes before following up, thinking it was enough time for it not to seem suspicious. Clint, who is in the laundry room, though back turned the whole time, still notices and pipes up right as Wanda takes the first step up.

“Just keep in mind the acoustics of the bathroom,” he warns Wanda. Though he doesn’t see her, based on the clumsy rushed steps after, he knows she was blushing the whole way upstairs.

Having Wanda in the shower, double entendre intended, proves to be a good thing because it turns out you do in fact need help scrubbing some of the mud that somehow made it down your back. Wanda gets on your case again about agitating Nat but it’s hard to really focus on what she’s saying when her hands are all over you, even if she is just scrubbing you down.

An hour later, Laura and Nat sit at the kitchen table and try not to laugh at you struggling with the measuring cups. Sam holds no reservations in laughing in your face. “How does a grown ass woman not know how to measure some flour?”

Wanda makes a face and he corrects himself, “I hear how that sounded. Let me rephrase. How does a grown ass adult who has had to pass middle school to get into college not know how to measure some flour?”

“Unnecessary jibe at my education aside, Sam, I appreciate you rephrasing that. Back to the matter at hand, I’d like to see you try, bitch,” you challenge him, handing over all the measuring kitchen equipment.

“Gladly.” He takes your place, leaving you to go stand beside Wanda. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

You all watch him as he looks over the recipe. You think he is just bluffing about his skills, making a grand show of it all. That is until he turns back to Wanda to ask, “Two batches, right?” Then at her nod, he goes into British Bake Off mode or whatever you would call x game mode for baking.

Seeing him confidently measuring ingredient after ingredient, you lean over to Wanda and ask under your breath, “Is he doing it right?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Damn it,” you huff out. Sam overhears and chuckles, his ego inflating by the minute. You pout at Sam having taken over what was meant to be a fun activity for you and Wanda to do, but he seems like he is really enjoying showing off so you can’t be too mad. Wanda finds your pout too cute and can’t help but press a quick kiss to your lips, surprising you both. You are both blushing and she tries to play it off cool. “You did say whenever I wanted.”

“I did say that, yes,” you recall. She smiles and then gives you another chaste kiss, more confidently this time, before heading over to Sam. “Alright, leave Y/N to do something, show off.”

Meanwhile, you are trying to calm your racing heart at her kissing you so openly, which is when you realize you have an audience. You’re afraid to see if Laura and Nat saw. You turn around slowly. They clearly did, your cousin’s raised eyebrow indicating so. It makes you blush harder, so you turn back around and go to see what you can do.

Wanda and Sam give you the job of rolling the cookie dough into little balls after moving you away from setting the oven heat because you tried to turn up the heat by double in order to “bake the cookies faster”. They explain why you couldn’t do that.

“Yeah, I knew that,” you say, as you lower the temperature back down. “I was just testing you guys.”

No one believes you but they don’t say anything. Nat and your cousin watch with interest as Wanda and Sam pull your hand full of raw dough away from your mouth when you try to taste it. You lie and say you were testing them again.

Peter and Pietro trail into the kitchen at the smell of the cookies baking. Sam takes them out once they are ready. Pietro tries to grab a cookie first, but you are faster, smacking his hand away. “Peter gets the first cookie. They were meant to be for him.”

Peter, who has been lingering shyly behind Pietro, perks up. He asks you, “Why?”

“For nearly killing you. Sorry about that. Sam technically did nearly everything, which might have been for the best given my lack of skills in the kitchen. But it’s the thought, right?” you ramble.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you. I won’t say no to cookies. They all look good. Let’s just all dig in,” Peter says, seeing Pietro’s grumbly face. Pietro cheers up at that and mutters, “Finally.”

Laura sees you and the guys reaching for a cookie and warns, “Careful, they’re hot,” but the cookies are already in your mouths.

“Fuck!” “Shit!” “H-h-hot!” All three of you yell but none of you spit the cookies out. Instead, you all choose to look ridiculous cooling the cookies with your mouths open. Sam looks at you three like the dumbasses you are. Your cousin and Nat look unfazed and Wanda is practically doubled over laughing so hard that you can’t even hear it because she’s having trouble breathing.

“Get out of my kitchen. Come back when you have proof y’all graduated elementary school.” Sam kicks you out of the kitchen, Pietro grabbing some cookies before being shooed away. You head outside and decide to play some basketball. Cooper and Lila come and join you and a few minutes later so does Wanda.

You pause, holding the ball in your hands as Wanda walks up to you.

“What? Did you finish your two pages of reading for the day that quickly or did you just miss me?” you tease her. She gives you a sarcastic smile before snatching the ball away. “Two chapters actually.” She then goes to line up her shot. She shoots and scores, turning back to you with a smug smile at which you shake your head.

“Hey, you can’t walk with the ball. That doesn’t count!” Pietro whines. You fight for her point, telling him to just let her have it, which he does not let go without pointing out, “Oh, so when I do it, it’s not a point, but when Lila and Wanda do it, it counts? How is that fair?”

“Because she’s six and she’s cute, Pietro. That’s why it counts,” you reply.

“Okay, but what about my sister?”

“I just explained. Lila is six and Wanda is cute. Come on, man. Keep up.” Wanda overhears and blushes hard. Pietro laughs at his sister, embarrassing her further. You take the ball away from his hands while he is distracted and then pass it to Lila.

You do way better this game than the last time you played. You still lost but progress.

The next morning feels like a rinse and repeat. Nat wakes you up, you go for the morning hike, you complain the whole time. Breakfast is a different story. Laura’s lower back has been aching and she’s been having contractions, one of which comes while you’re eating, scaring most of you. You get straight to your feet asking where the baby bag is and Pietro rushes to find the keys saying, “I’ll start the car!”

Peter pipes, “I think someone else should drive.”

“Everyone calm down. I don’t need to go anywhere. The baby’s not coming yet,” your cousin reassures everyone, specifically her husband and Nat who are at her side. Everyone lets out a breath of relief. You ask where the baby bag is anyway to know when the time does come. She says there isn’t one and then Nat is on Clint and your heads about not being prepared.

“I got here after you did,” you defend yourself. She then looks over to Clint who says, “I’ve been saving the world.”

“Always an excuse with you two,” Nat chides.

And so the afternoon finds Clint, Sam, and Nat going to buy the essentials, while the rest of you help clean up around the house. Wanda is left to supervise Lila and Cooper clean their rooms, Peter is in charge of vacuuming upstairs, Pietro is given dish washing duty, and you are given the broom and mop.

Your cousin relaxes on the couch in the meantime. You yell up the stairs that you will be mopping now, warning everyone to watch their step. You repeat the same to your cousin who sarcastically says, “I think the whole town heard you, Y/N.”

“Well, excuse me for caring for everyone’s well being,” you retort, continuing your chores. You’re nearly finished. You just need Pietro to be done in the kitchen so you can mop there. You sit and wait in Clint and Laura’s little home office.

You swivel around in the chair, looking around curiously until something calls your attention, that something being the laminator. You try to think of something fun to laminate but think of nothing interesting. Then you remember something and rush upstairs to get it.

You pass Peter who asks if he can go downstairs now having finished vacuuming. You say yes but tell him not to go into the kitchen yet. You grab what you are looking for in your bag and head back downstairs to laminate it. Before you do, you write a message on the back.

Dear Scarlet Wizard, please stop hurting the books. Thank you. Y/N :)

Then you laminate the strip. You look over your finished product proudly before tucking it into your back pocket. You’re about to head out of the office when Pietro’s voice crescendos, heeding you of his presence before he appears. “Just ask her, Wanda. She’s seen you in them. I don’t know why you are embarrassed.”

That piques your interest. Pietro finally appears, with Wanda lingering behind him, looking like she’d much rather be anywhere else. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Pietro looks back at Wanda expectantly, but when she doesn’t say anything, he explains for her. “She needs help washing her underpants.”

“Pietro!” Wanda shouts, her face giving a new meaning to her superhero name with how red it turns. She moves forward, spluttering, “I asked Laura if I could wash some of my clothes. She said yes, but I don’t know how to work this machine and I didn’t want to make her get up to show me, and Pietro told me to ask you, so…”

She trails off shyly, wanting to bury herself in the nearest ditch right after she murders her brother for putting her in this position. Wanda hadn’t prepared to stay so long and hadn’t brought extra clothes. Now she regrets not being like Peter who overprepares. She wonders how her brother hasn’t run out of clean underwear but she thinks it’s better not to ask, predicting she won’t like whatever the answer is; Pietro is not someone who is over prepared either.

“That’s it?” you ask, not seeing what the big deal was, but you can see that Wanda is still looking rather awkward about it, so you don’t question it too much. Rather you comment, “I was actually wondering if you all just overpack for breaks. I mean I know Nat has extra clothes here in the house but I was wondering about the rest of you.”

“Peter is the only one who does the most,” Pietro says.

“Hey, I heard that!” Peter yells coming in to join the three of you. You turn to Pietro and ask, “Then what do you do?”

“He used the same underwear after he showered,” Peter explains. You and Wanda make a face of disgust and Pietro makes one of irritation. Peter runs off upstairs when Pietro starts chasing him, “Don’t tell her that!”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” you tell Wanda, who agrees with you. Then you motion for her to follow you into the little laundry room. You show her how to work the machine. She throws her clothes in and follows your instructions. Once the machine gets going, you decide to tease her now that you are alone. “It’s just underwear, Wanda. Pietro was right. No need to be shy about it when I’ve seen it both on and off you.”

She starts blushing again. She hides behind her hands and groans, “Ugh, I should have asked Laura.”

You continue on anyway, “In fact, I remember one instance where you were enjoying when I tugged them o-” You were cut off short by Wanda’s hands covering your mouth. “Stop talking.”

Your laughter is muffled but it’s there nonetheless, finding Wanda’s coyness endearing. She defends herself, recalling a story about you, “You are one to talk, Miss Purple Boxer-Briefs.”

You grab hold of her wrists, removing her hands from your mouth in order to speak. “Hey, that’s different.” You walk forwards, making Wanda take steps back until her back is against the wall. “I was not planning for anyone to see me in those. I was just taking one for the team, thinking the house was getting robbed.”

“Mhmm, sure.” Wanda giggles.This time it’s you saying, “Oh, be quiet, Maximoff.”

“Make me, L/N.”

You sputter in surprise, eyes widening at her words. Hers stare right into yours, challenging you to make a move. And she has the audacity to have a smirk on her face as if she wasn’t madly blushing about dirty underwear a few minutes ago. Where the hell did that girl go?

“Are you just going to stand there and look at me a-”

You surge forward and kiss her hard. Wanda can’t help but smile at getting her way, making it a little hard to kiss her. So you take the moment to break it and ask, “Hey, who told you my last name?”

“The same asshole that gave you this.” One of her hands between you moves up to caress your bruised cheek. “Does it still hurt?”

She prods at it, making you flinch back. “Ow, only when you poke at it.”

“Sorry,” she apologizes, pulling her hand away from your cheek. Her bashful face makes you chuckle. You pull yourself together to ask her a question. “Okay, serious question,” you start, and it’s too cute how Wanda pays close attention to what you say next. You’d think she’d know better by now. “Does it make me look badass?”

“Y/N,” she more or less groans your name in annoyance as she gently shoves you. You’re a little off balance but you quickly grasp her elbows to pull back into her space. “I’m serious. ‘Cause if I look stupid, I’m pretty sure I could will my cells to work overtime to heal it faster or something.”

She laughs at you, muttering, “You are an idiot,” and pecking your lips between each word. You hear giggling, only this laughter isn’t coming from the beautiful woman in front of you. No, this giggling you know too well comes from a certain little critter who you now see has potential to go into her father’s line of work with how quiet she can creep up on someone.

Wanda actually shoves you off this time, going to stand behind you to put a physical barrier between her and the intruding child. You clear your throat, smiling at Lila. “Hey, Lila. Did you need something?”

“Why were you kissing Wanda? Is she your girlfriend? Are you going to have a baby now?” She shoots one question after question rapidly as if she didn’t ask them all at once she would forget them. The first two are valid questions but the last throws you off so far you don’t know where you are. It throws Wanda too, so much so she’s basically choking behind you.

“Woah, okay. Umm, I was kissing Wanda because I think she is very pretty and nice and that’s just a way you can show someone that you think that about them, with their permission of course,” you rush in to add about consent. Your niece and nephews will grow up learning to be a decent human being. You continue on to her other questions. “But no, Wanda is not my girlfriend and we are not having a baby?”

Your last answer comes out more as a question, mostly due to your confusion as to where she got that idea. Wanda comes out from her hiding space to stand by you. From your peripheral vision, she looks amused at seeing you struggle to answer the six year old’s questions. Looking at your niece, she seems to be as confused as you, but you learn it’s due to something else. “Why isn’t she your girlfriend? Did you ask her?”

You hesitate to answer, really not knowing where to start. Wanda is less amused and more interested now, crossing her arms over her chest, creating a barrier between her heart and your next words that she thinks will inevitably hurt to hear. Lila doesn’t give you the chance, however, continuing to her next question that makes you scoff. “Does she think you’re ugly?”

“I’d hope not.” You turn to look at Wanda, who holds a hand over her mouth trying to cover her giggles.

“Oh, maybe she doesn’t think you’re funny, like Aunt Nat says. Maybe she doesn’t get your jokes.” Lila tries to help, but little to her knowledge, it just makes you want to dig your own grave, especially when you can see Wanda is nearly losing it trying to hold in her laughter.

“Yep, you know you might be right. That must be it,” you agree to appease her. She grins at you, proud of herself for finding an answer to her question, which reminds you, “Why did you think we were having a baby?”

“Because that’s how babies are made,” she says, without a doubt in her mind, which reasonably has you questioning, “Who told you that, critter? Because they definitely lied.”

“Mommy said so,” she says almost defiantly as if what her mom says must be the truth and who were you to make her start questioning her mother now at six years old. You are also not ready to have that conversation, the conversation between you and your cousin where she yells at you for taking over the birds and bees speech that she probably had meticulously planned for a specific time in her children’s lives.

“Aaaand, your mom’s right. Yep. Wanda is basically pregnant now,” you say without thinking. Lila’s eyes go full moon round in excitement as squeals in glee. She practically runs out of the laundry room probably to tell god knows who about the news. Wanda gasps in disbelief beside you, smacking your arm. “Why did you say that?”

“Well, what did you want me to do? Be honest with the child?” you say as if honesty would be the worst thing to bring into that conversation.

“Yes, exactly that,” Wanda says plainly.

“Okay, well unless you want to deal with Nat on your ass about us unnecessarily stressing my pregnant cousin out with talks about baby making with her six year old, for the next however long Lila remembers, you are pregnant with my child.”

Wanda hangs her head in defeat after you put that image of an angry Nat in her head. There are worse things than being fake pregnant with your crush’s baby. She sighs, “You’re paying child support for this kid.”

You smile at her quip, retaliating with, “Not without a paternity test!” She shoves you as you both exit the laundry room and you chant, “Maury! Maury!”

“We are not naming the baby Maury,” she says and runs into you when you stop abruptly to turn around and question her, “Wanda, do you not know who Maury is?”

When she shakes her head no in confusion, you grab her hand in excitement, “Oh, my god, let me teach you a little bit about American culture,” and drag her with you to watch some episodes of the show.

You only get to watch one with her, leaving her with your cousin to watch more as you go back into the kitchen to finish moping as your cousin so kindly (not so kindly) reminded you to do. Those baby hormones really were kicking in.

You return to see Pietro and Wanda eating up the show. “I knew it! I knew he would be the father,” Pietro yells excitedly from where he is on the floor looking back at his sister. “Did I not guess right?” She nods and he turns back to the television to watch the guy run off the stage as the cameraman chases after him.

Laura can’t stop yawning so you suggest she go take a nap. You help her up to her room and tell her to rest up, that you had everything under control. She teases as you shut the door, “Just don’t go around impregnating more women while I’m asleep.”

When you go back downstairs, Sam, Nat, and Clint are making their way through the front door with everything they bought. Sam and Clint set the box with the crib assembly in the middle of the living room. Nat carries some bags and says there are more bags in the car. You head outside throwing an “amateur” towards Nat who rolls her eyes knowing you are referring to your silly one trip from the car to the house rule.

The rest of the evening goes to arranging the hospital bag and getting all the baby things in order. Nat and Wanda assemble the crib, Nat insisting she do it after Pietro rushes to assemble it with a “tada!” only for it to fall apart when Nat throws a pillow onto it. Wanda is just excited to do it and Nat trusts her to follow instructions unlike her brother.

Everyone just watches, but Lila who tries to help handing the women whatever they need. As most excited six year olds do, she talks everyone’s ears off about the things she is going to do when her baby brother comes. “Oh! And he can have playdates with Y/N and Wanda’s baby. We can have tea parties every summer. Maybe not tea, cause tea isn’t very tasty and it’s too hot for that. Maybe we can have ice tea instead. What do you think, Wanda?”

Everyone in the room looks confused; most of the confused gazes are looking to you for an explanation and before anyone could say anything, you mouth “Don’t ask” while shaking your head. Wanda indulges Lila, though she blushes through it trying to look unfazed, “Yes, ice tea is nice. Or maybe lemonade. Can you pass me that small piece over there?”

It comes out perfectly, much to Pietro’s chagrin. Now the problem no one thought about- how to get it upstairs into the room. Sam and Clint carry it up the stairs trying to follow Nat’s instructions, attempting to turn it at the right angle to get it up the second flight of stairs. They clearly do not understand what Nat’s aim is here, Nat’s frustration growing by the second. Wanda gets a sense of deja vu but she can’t recall where she has seen this, until you laugh and as if reading her mind fill in the blank yelling, “Pivot!”

Satisfied with figuring out where the scene is from and not wanting to see Nat explode, Wanda uses her magic to take hold of the crib and brings Nat’s vision to life as she rotates the crib at the correct angle. The red mist lifts it the rest of the way upstairs.

“Thank you, Wanda. It seems you’re the only competent person here,” Nat huffs. She turns to the two men on the stairs, “Well, don’t just stand there, expecting Maximoff to do everything. The crib goes in the room with Laura.”

She storms up the steps shepherding Clint and Sam the rest of the way. You hear the laundry machine beeping, so you go give that your attention with Wanda on your tail. After her clothes begin to spin in the dryer, you stop her from getting any further than the kitchen remembering to give her your beautiful creation.

“Wait, Wanda, before I forget. I have something for you.” You pull the photo strip turned bookmark out of your pocket and hand it to her. She takes her time looking over the pictures on the strip from the time at the arcade, especially the third in which you are kissing her cheek. You gesture for her to look at the back and she rolls her eyes upon reading your message. Wanda appreciates the gesture anyways.

“You made me this?” Wanda asks, surprised.

You nod, “Made or more so laminated it for you. Or rather for future me who will be happy to know she saved another book from you dog earring the ends of its pages.”

You chuckle when she pushes you in jest. “Hey! That is a lot of judgement coming from someone who does not read.”

“I don’t have to be an avid book reader to know book etiquette,” you declared.

“Book etiquette?” She raises an eyebrow up in question.

“Yes, there are rules to how you treat books, same as there are rules to everything,” you answered. “Like returning a borrowed book in the same condition.”

“And one of the rules happens to be not to bend the corner of the pages?” she asks, disbelieving.

“Hey, I’m just trying to do you a favor here. Wouldn’t want you to get bullied in book club or whatever. But if you are just going to disregard the rule and not use the bookmark,” you reply, reaching for the bookmark, “I can just take it back.”

“No,” she objects immediately, pressing the photostrip against her chest. She pouts, “You already gave it to me. You can’t take it back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you assured her, laughing at her childish antics. Wanda looks at it once more, smiling, and then gives you a kiss on the cheek. With rosy cheeks adorning her face, she thanks you. “I love it, really.”

Red really is the color for her, you think. That is until you find green giving red a run for its money the next evening.

Sam drove you, Wanda, and Pietro to one of the two bars in town in Nat’s car. It took about half an hour of begging from Sam’s part for Nat to give up her keys, but not without threatening his life if he were to even scratch her car. You couldn’t blame her, it’s a pretty nice car.

You and the three Avengers walk into the bar. It sounds like the start to a joke and it almost feels like it could be with the way the night starts. It’s a Friday night so there is a crowd but it’s not too bad. You’re still standing around the front entrance and you wonder why no one has made the move to go further into the establishment. Turning to the other three, you notice their eyes sweeping the place. You quickly realize what they are doing.

“Would you all relax? We are here to have fun. No need to act like you’re on a mission,” you remind them. Sam scoffs, “Uh, speak for yourself. This man is on the hunt for some sugar.” The rest of you three roll your eyes at him as he keeps scouting the area. His eyes befall on the pretty bartender. “And spotted. First round is on me.”

Sam walks up to the bar with swagger to his step. The three of you look for a place to sit. Pietro notices a booth open up and using a little enhanced speed, swoops into the booth, calling you and Wanda over. You talk amongst yourselves while Sam chats up the bartender. He comes over with the drinks smiling to himself. Wanda teases him, “Look at you all smiley. Did you get her phone number?”

“I’m still working on it, but I know it’s working,” he says confidently. “So hurry up and finish your drinks so I can go up and talk some more.”

He rushes you and chugs his drink in one go. You hate to be his buzzkill but someone has to remind him, “I hope you enjoyed that drink, Sam ‘cause that was your one and only for tonight. Or did you forget you drove us here?”

His face scrunches up and groans, “Noooo. Can’t Pietro drive? His metabolism works fast. It’s nearly impossible to get him drunk.”

“Did you forget what car we brought? The moves Nat pulled on me hurt like a bitch, and that was just her teaching me self defense. I can’t imagine what she would do if she finds out we let Speed Racer drive back.” You quickly turn to said twin, “No offense, Pietro.”

“You are all just a bunch of babies,” he responds, sipping from his drink.

“Ugh, fine,” Sam concedes. “Maybe, I can work with this. I’ll be back. Same thing for everyone?”

After getting an affirmative, Sam is back at it. The three of you watch him flirt with the woman behind the bar. Sam points your group out to her and she smiles at you three while your group acknowledges her with awkward waves.

A car alarm pulls everyone’s attention away; it’s Nat’s car. The three of you see Sam make a show of looking for the keys in his pockets when it’s clear to the group that he’s been holding them the entire time. That smooth bastard. The woman looks impressed.

Soon she serves up your drinks, Sam bringing them to the table, with a cocky smirk on his face. You, Pietro, and Wanda shake your heads at him his whole way back. “We see what you did there,” Wanda says. “That was very sneaky.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sam denies. He takes a sip of his water as the rest of you grab your second drink. Pietro asks, “Very sad, using someone else’s things to boast. Tsk tsk tsk.”

“Keep it down. She doesn’t have to know that. Anyway, that car is a guarantee she’ll be looking this way,” Sam assures and he isn’t wrong. Wanda finds the bartender looking back at your group but much to her discontentment, she is zeroing in not on Sam but you. You don’t notice this happening.

You are too focused telling some funny story Wanda isn’t really listening to, as she finishes her drink in one go. Pietro catches this from the corner of his eye, frowning at what has his sister looking upset. Ever so observant, he watches Wanda look at the bartender who seems to be staring at you and then shuffle closer to your side.

His frown disappears, no longer worried but more so amused. He has always found it funny when his sister gets jealous. He’s seen it several times to know the signs- the furrow of her brow, the biting of her lip, and had it been a few years ago, there would be a dramatic exit. A dramatic exit would be overkill here so he guesses she’s substituted it for possessiveness.

You welcome Wanda’s warmth as she sits closer to you. Sam and Pietro make their comments and jokes about the story you just finished telling. You sip on your drink, nearly choking when Wanda’s hand makes a surprise appearance on your thigh a little too high to be innocent. You try to ignore it and listen to Sam as he starts a story, but it gets a little difficult when she begins to move it.

Sam asks you a question and as focused as you are when trying to answer, Wanda’s wandering hand makes you stutter a few times in your response. You chug the rest of your drink and Wanda takes that as a sign to get the next round of drinks.

“I’ve got the drinks this time,” she declares, pressing a kiss on your cheek before getting up and heading over to the bar. The little break you have away from her feels a bit of a relief. You were getting worked up under her touch and in public no less. You don’t know what’s got Wanda in this kind of mood suddenly, not that you would usually mind it unless it’s the alcohol.

That’s the only real outlier here. If it is the alcohol, you’ll have to slow her roll down if only two drinks have her so handsy. You have to come up with a plan soon if that’s the case, because Wanda comes back, bartender behind her carrying a tray with shots.

Wanda takes her seat next to you as Sam’s point of interest for the night sets the shots in the middle of the table. Your eyes widen, counting the number of shots that end up on the table.

“Damn, how much do they pay you?” you ask incredulously, knowing how pricey a single shot can be.

“And are they hiring?” the bartender jokes. Everyone but Wanda laughs. “Are we celebrating something tonight or just having a night out?” She asks the table but ends the question looking at you for the answer.

“A little bit of both. They’re going home soon, so,” you explain. You have all her attention now, her body turning to face you. “Oh, so you’re from here. I haven’t seen you around?”

Wanda slowly grows irritated, feeling the woman talking is overstaying her welcome at your table. She reaches for a shot, throwing it back, trying not to make a face as the liquid burns her throat.

You frown at Wanda’s actions. Pietro snorts and Wanda throws him a glare. The bartender is still waiting for your response so you answer, “I don’t actually live here. I stay with my cousin during my breaks from school.”

“What school do you go to?”

Wanda clears her throat, annoyed, “Don’t you have to go back to the bar? We wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Sam speaks up, “There are two other people back there. I’m sure they’ve got Bethany covered.” So that’s the name of the woman unknowingly grinding Wanda’s gears. Wanda is disappointed to see Sam is correct.

She drinks another shot and the moment Pietro has been waiting for arrives when she gets up suddenly claiming she has to go to the restroom. Bethany tries to help and point them out to her, but Wanda quickly cuts in with, “Thank you, Bethany, but I think I can find my way to the restroom just fine.” And then she stomps off.

Finding her behavior odd, you decide it best to go follow her and make sure she’s okay. After answering Bethany’s last question, you excuse yourself from the table and head in the direction Wanda left. The restrooms are easy to find, a glaringly obvious sign pointing to them.

Wanda splashes water on her face at the sink, trying to cool herself down. She can’t help the thoughts running through her head, thinking that Bethany was probably sitting in Wanda’s place by your side, grabbing your arm as she laughs at something you say. She knows these thoughts stem from jealousy and there is no need to tell her that she doesn’t have the right to be jealous when you agreed to be friends.

If Wanda wasn’t irked enough, there are no paper towels to dry her face with. Now she’ll return to the table with a wet shirt. “Stupid bar can’t refill the dispenser,” she mutters, pushing the door open with the side of her body, her hands preoccupied lifting the bottom of her shirt enough to pat her face dry with it.

She bumps into somebody outside the restroom doors. She lifts her face from her hands to apologize only to be met by the person who has got her acting this moody and you aren’t looking at her face. Your eyes are busy appreciating Wanda’s exposed tummy. Wanda flushes as she drops her shirt, making you redirect your eyes. Embarrassed at being caught, you clear your throat. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I actually came to check on you.”

“Why? I was only gone for 2 minutes,” she asked, though she was happy to note that you were here waiting for her outside the restroom instead of entertaining the bartender sitting at your group’s table.

“You left kind of abruptly. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and not like throwing up,” you reason. You pull Wanda away from standing in front of the door to the restroom when someone tries to get through.

Wanda chuckles, continuing on with your conversation. “Do you think I am a lightweight or what?”

“Well I hope not. You did just buy a bunch of shots and it would be a damn shame to let them go to waste,” you remind her. She smirks at you. “You have some catching up to do.”

“Lead the way.” You step aside motioning for her to do just so. Wanda shakes her head, but smiles nevertheless, taking your hand and tugging you behind her. Wanda is happy not to see Bethany at your table but back behind the bar when you both take your previous seats.

“There they are!” Pietro shouts excitedly, waving his hand in the air before smacking it back down on the table rather clumsily with an “Ah”. Tipsy Pietro was rather adorable. How did he get like this anyway? Looking back at the table, you find your answer.

“Holy shit, dude! Did you drink all of these yourself?” You’re worried he’d have to get his stomach pumped. He reads the expression on your face and reassures you. “It’s the only way I can get, umm, Wanda?” He turns to ask his sister something you don’t understand, asking in Sokovian. She answers, “Tipsy.”

“Yes! Tipsy. But I left you uh,” he counts the remaining shot cups that still have liquor in them, “four. Perfect. Two for each of you. Now hurry, I want to play billbards, bill-billboards. Pool,” he finally decides. He pushes two shots towards you and the other two towards Wanda.

“Oh, no. Y/N has to catch up.” Wanda pushes one of her drinks to yours, lining them all up neatly. You shake your head at a smirking Wanda. You sigh, “You’re really going to do this to me, huh?”

“Yup,” she affirmed. Then Sam got the three of them to chant your name, making others in the bar look your group’s way. Not wanting people staring, you hush them, “Okay, okay. Geez. I can see why Clint hates that.” Then you drink all three, one right after another. You do make a face. “Oof.”

Wanda drinks hers and then the four of you wait by the pool tables for one to open up. You spend the next hour laughing with Sam and Wanda at a clumsy Pietro. You are just as bad as a tipsy Pietro when playing pool but tipsy Wanda doesn’t care, insisting you teach her how to properly line up her shot. Tipsy you isn’t remotely embarrassed when Wanda completely misses hitting the ball with your guidance because your body is busy feeling something other than shame having Wanda pressed against you as she is.

Sober Sam is getting bored. Bethany is busy behind the bar doing her job, more patrons filling up the joint. A few minutes later, Pietro is practically sober; his coordination comes back and he doesn’t find playing pool as fun anymore. Also, he’s growing tired of watching his sister basically grind her ass on you every time it’s her turn.

Pietro ends the game five minutes later. “I’m tired. Let’s let some other people play.” He doesn’t give you a chance to reject the idea, handing his pool stick over to someone else saying his group can have the table. He and Sam head to the restroom but not before telling you two to be ready to go.

There is a pout on Wanda’s face that you find just too cute and you let her know so. “You are so adorable,” you tease, pinching her cheeks. Wanda sends you a glare that looks in no way threatening with her cheeks aflame, making you laugh. “I’ll get us some water. Wait here for Pietro and Sam.”

You head over to the bar counter. You grab Bethany’s attention and ask for some water. “So why was your girlfriend upset earlier?” She asks as she goes to fill up two cups for you.

“Huh?” you ask confused. She repeats herself leaning over the bar in order for you to hear her more clearly. “Your girlfriend,” she nods in Wanda’s direction. You turn to see Wanda watching you two closely. “She looked pissed off earlier.”

Bethany hands over the two cups of water. You didn’t need to but you clarify anyway, albeit a little awkwardly. “Oh, um, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Does she know that?” The bartender smirks at you. You’re confused and tell her so. She rolls her eyes at you. There is no way you could be so oblivious. She does find it cute that you were so focused on your “not girlfriend” that you didn’t see the way she was interested in you. She takes pity on you and clarifies, “She was totally acting like a jealous girlfriend earlier.”

“No, she wasn’t,” you deny, the idea sounding totally absurd to you. But with the way Bethany sounded so sure, you can’t help but begin to question the possibility. “How do you know?”

“I see these things all the time. Reading body language becomes a skill when you work at a bar. Trust me.”

Bethany sees you still doubting her so she proposes something. “Here. I’ll prove it. Do you mind if I touch you?”

You look at her confused but give her permission anyway. She reaches over and runs her finger up and down your forearm. You watch her move and feel more so lost when she throws her head back in laughter. “Okay, what are you doing?”

“If she is jealous, like I say she is, she will do one of two things. She will either come up here and act all possessive or she’ll storm off like she did earlier to the restroom.”

“I don’t know,” you say, unsurely, already pulling your arm away. You are not one to want to play emotional games. Before you have a chance to tell Bethany that, she says, “I should have put some money on it.”

You feel an arm slide around your waist. Wanda comes up beside you and pulls you into her. You are a little startled to be honest, especially when she kisses your underjaw making sure to give Bethany a good view. Wanda catches Bethany giving you a cocky smirk and it irks her.

“Piet and Sam are waiting for us,” she reminds you. You don’t say anything, your mind still trying to process that Bethany is right and Wanda might just be jealous. Bethany sees the realization glaze over your eyes and rolls with it, pushing Wanda’s buttons. “Oh, you’re leaving already? Well if you ever want more conversations like these,” she writes on a piece of paper behind the bar and hands it over to you folded, “here.”

Wanda is nearly grinding her teeth at this point. The audacity of that woman to give you her number while Wanda is with you is amazing. Though Wanda knows she’s not with you- with you, clearly the woman would think Wanda was something to you given the way she is wrapped around you. And if that wasn’t enough to piss her off, the way you say “Um, okay?” before pocketing the piece of paper is.

“You know what, we’ll just wait for you in the car,” Wanda huffs, pulling away from you and storming off to Pietro and Sam. You watch her go, ready to follow but Bethany calls your attention once more. “And there is number two. What are you standing here for? Go. She’ll only be more upset the longer you take.”

“Thanks?” You leave it at that, not knowing what else to say and make your way to the exit. Bethany watches you leave with a shake of her head, mumbling to herself, “She’s gonna eat her alive.”

You reach in your pocket to read the note the bartender gave you, opening the door with your back. Wanda, who is leaning against the hood of the car, watches in jealousy as you laugh at the contents of the note.

Sam asks, “What are you smiling about?”

Wanda answers for you, tone dripping in discontent, “Getting the number you couldn’t get.”

“What?! Let me see!” Sam rips the paper from your hand. Wanda rolls her eyes in annoyance and gets in the backseat, slamming the door closed. Her brother shakes his head in amusement, but follows sitting in the passenger seat instead.

“Come on, let’s go,” you hurry Sam along. You go around the car to open the door opposite the one Wanda slammed and take a seat. Wanda is already not looking at you, instead looking out the window, which you find pointless because there is nothing to look at seeing as there is another car parked right next to her. She’s just getting the view of their window.

“Wanda,” you say, trying to get her to look at you. “Wanda.” She still ignores you, so you press, “Are you really not going to talk to me?”

“I’m not in the mood. Why don’t you talk to Bethany? Seemed like you liked talking to her. Now you can call her,” Wanda responds, voicing Bethany’s name in an obnoxious way. You try not to snicker but Pietro doesn’t. Wanda kicks the back of his seat, getting in trouble with Sam as he enters the car to see just that.

“Hey, knock it off! I don’t need Nat busting my ass for something I didn’t do,” he warns and points at Wanda, who huffs but leans back, crossing her arms in irritation. He continues, “Also, if you want me to laugh at your jokes, make them make sense.”

He throws the paper to your lap. You read it once more and laugh to yourself. Sam is about to start the car but you stop him. “Wait! Before we go, Sam, can you do me a favor real quick,” you say as you pull out a five dollar bill. “Can you go give this to Bethany?”

“So is this like an inside joke or something?” Sam takes the money anyway and heads back to the bar. Pietro asks, “Can I see the paper?”

“Why? You want to have a shot with her too? Clearly she was interested in Y/N, Pietro,” Wanda mumbles. You hand over the paper to her brother while rolling your eyes at her behavior, trying not to smile.

Pietro reads it and laughs louder than before. Wanda takes off her seatbelt and leans forward to snatch the paper from Pietro’s hands. “Okay, what is so funny? ‘Five bucks she says my name in a mean voice’.” Wanda’s voice trails off in the end out of embarrassment realizing that the note was about her.

“Hell yeah! I told you I would and I did. I still have the moves.” Sam barges into the car excitedly. “Look what I got!” He waves around a piece of paper in front of Pietro’s face.

“Her number? Nice,” Pietro says, pretty impressed.

“Yep. She said ‘Here, for if you’re ever back in town,’” Sam tries mimicking Bethany’s voice. Turning to you, he adds, “Oh and she also said to tell you she told you so, whatever that means.”

“Wanda knows what it means,” Pietro jokes, making you chuckle and Wanda punch him in the arm.

“Alright, alright. Chill out and put your seatbelt on,” Sam tells Wanda. He turns on the car and begins the drive home. “It’s a good thing we’re leaving when we are. Another drink in you and we’d have to pull you out of a bar fight.”

Wanda does as she’s told without another word. In fact she stays silent for the whole ride back, not because she was annoyed like earlier. To say she’s embarrassed is an understatement. It’s one thing for her brother to tease her, throwing remarks he finds oh so humorous her way. She’s used to that from her twin. It’s another thing for you to match his energy, laughing at his jokes and having the same knowing smirk on your face.

Of course Pietro would know when she’s jealous; they’re twins. Pietro acts the same exact way when he’s jealous. Wanda just wasn’t ready for someone else to pick up on it, especially not the person for why she felt the way she did.

It is humiliating and that’s why she vows to deny, deny, deny if anyone brings it up, which of course you do because life hates Wanda and won’t let her have this one thing.

You bring it up after you get home. Wanda tries to rush out the car but you hold her arm, signaling for her to stay in the car. You tell Sam and Pietro to go ahead inside without you, that you need to talk to Wanda in private.

Sam jokingly “oohs” and rolls down the windows a bit before turning off the car. “This seems like a long talk. I wouldn’t want you ladies to suffocate under all the tension,” he quips.

Wanda looks at her brother for help and he almost stays seeing the dread on her face, but then he thinks about how this could be new ammunition for teasing her later and makes his decision to go. “Sorry, Wands, but she said ‘in private’.”

“Since when do you respect privacy?” she challenged, ticked that her own blood would leave her to die of mortification for his own amusement.

“It’s never too late to try new things,” he reasons. He follows Sam to the house, laughing because Wanda shouts out of the car window, “Try not being a traitor next time!”

Wanda’s attention finally turns to you when she hears you giggling. Wanda sits as far away from you as she can, her back practically against the car door. Your laughter dies down, but you still sport a wide smile on your face, irritating her to no end. She crosses her arms and tries to keep her composure.

“What did you want to say?” She feigns innocence, hoping the conversation will take a different route than the one she feels it’s going. However, much like life you won’t let her have this.

“You know, I guessed you could be the jealous type given you telling your brother to stop flirting with me and the other way around, but damn, that was something else,” you tease, finding satisfaction when Wanda’s cheeks burn red.

You let her splutter for a minute, but then take pity on her when you see she can’t find the words to defend herself. You scoot close enough to her that your knees are pressing against hers. “It’s okay, really. Usually, I would find jealousy unattractive but there is something about green on you that I like. It really brings out your eyes.”

Your hands move forward to push some of her hair away from her face as if to see her eyes clearer. Wanda finally finds her voice, scoffing, “I was not jealous,” but she allows you to keep your hands on her face.

“No, of course not,” you reply sarcastically, smirk taking permanent residence on your face. You pinch her cheek to annoy her.

“Only insecure people get jealous,” Wanda huffs and pushes your hands away.

“Everyone has their insecurities, Maximoff.”

“What do you have to be insecure about?” she asks like you would be the last person to have any insecurities.

You lean your side onto the seat. “Plenty of things. Like, no one ever taking me seriously. I hide a lot behind jokes. Sometimes, I don’t even know if I’m being serious or not and that makes it really hard to communicate with people.”

You look away from Wanda who begins to uncross her arms, the earlier tension on her body from self preservation dissipating with your confession. Instead, you focus on your hands, fingers tracing the stitched lines on the leather seats.

You continue with a sigh, “Not to keep reliving the past, but it seems like it’s all I ever really do, I think maybe had I worked a little more on that, maybe Skye and I wouldn’t have ended like we did. Maybe had I shown I could be, I don’t know, more serious, someone you could not only have laugh with but someone you could confide in, have honest talks with, be a shoulder to cry on, then maybe she wouldn’t have seen me as a distraction and maybe we, I don’t know. I’m just rambling now.”

It gets quiet in the car. Wanda watches your hands continue to trace the lines on the seats. You look up at her when she clears her throat, ready to speak. “Vision broke up with me with the excuse that heroes are meant to be alone and I try but ever since he said that I can’t help but think he has a point.”

“Why do you think so?” you ask. Much like you finding something else to focus on, Wanda begins fidgeting with the rings on her fingers before replying, “It’s just that after we broke up, everyone left me alone. They were trying to give me my space, I guess but all it did was make me feel lonely.”

You reach out to stop her fidgeting with her rings which only half works. When you hold her hand, her other one comes to start playing with your fingers. “As embarrassing as it was to have you see me crying, I’m glad you stayed with me that first day,” Wanda whispers, almost like it’s a secret.

You smile and joke, “You were crying? I would have never known if you didn’t just tell me.” You succeed in making her laugh, as she tells you to shut up, but you continue teasing her. “Now the puffy eyes and runny nose make total sense.”

“Oh, god! Don’t remind me,” she pulls her hands away from yours to cover her face. She mumbles behind her palms, “I probably looked so gross.”

You chuckle at how wrong she is, remembering that day. You pull her hands away from her face and respond, “Quite the opposite. I was wondering how someone could look so pretty crying.”

Wanda narrows her eyes at you and accuses, “Liar.”

“Honest. Then I thought how inappor- inaporpiet,” you struggle to say inappropriate so you rephrase, “how it was wrong to think that while you were crying. Sorry, the alcohol is still in my system.”

You continue through Wanda’s giggling. “And it’s your fault I’m not more sober right now!”

“What? How is this my fault?” she questions, still smiling.

“We didn’t get to drink the waters Bethany so nicely served us because you got jealous and stormed out,” you recount, watching the smile drop from Wanda’s face and a frown replace it.

“I was not jealous!” Wanda still denies, much to your amusement. She tries to pull away her hands but you keep a heavy grip on them.

“Incredible. We just had a whole ass conversation about insecurities and you still can’t admit you were jealous,” you laugh when she denies it again with a pout on her face that you attempt to kiss away, pulling her into you.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mumble with a smile against her lips. She lets out an irritated sigh and leans back into you to finally do something about wiping that knowing smile off of your face.

Wanda’s lips on yours, you both forget what either of you were trying to prove as you lose yourself to the feeling of having her pressed against you. You are both a mess, still slightly inebriated, but not so much that you don’t know what you are doing. You are well aware that you are in Nat’s car and she would kill you if she were to find out what you were doing in the backseat.

You take the chance anyway thinking it would be worth it. Remnants of alcohol in your system and watching Wanda take her shirt off will do that. Hands are everywhere, stripping off clothes, so you don’t know who does it but the car horn sounds and makes you both stop in panic.

“Shit,” you both whisper, out of breath. You turn to look at what could have caused the noise and see your shoe on the driver seat. One of you had thrown the shoe at the wheel. You both look towards the house. The lights were still off. You don’t think you woke anyone. At least, you hope you didn’t.

“Maybe no one heard?” You tell Wanda who looks at you with a ‘you can’t be serious’ look. There are five members of the most renowned team of heroes on the planet in that house. One, if not all, heard the horn.

Your phone chimes. Wanda gives you an ‘I told you so’ look as she pulls out your phone from your pants that are halfway down your thighs. Her heart stops in her chest as she sees the text is from Natasha. She shows you and you cover your face, not wanting to read whatever death threat is on there.

“Read it for me. Maybe coming from you, I might not have a panic attack,” you beg. She opens the text and reads aloud, “ ‘I expect the car to smell of nothing but lemon scented disinfectant wipes tomorrow’ followed by two exclamation points and the red angry face emoji.”

You let out a sigh and remove your hands. “That doesn’t sound too bad. I don’t think she’s that mad.”

“Wait,” Wanda holds up a finger, reading off of your phone, “she’s typing.”

Your phone chimes incessantly. Wanda begins reading off, “Okay, girl with hand up emoji, ladder emoji, window emoji, person in bed emoji, oh, um.” Wanda’s eyes widen at what she now realizes is Nat threatening you through emoticons. “I am going to stop reading now so you can sleep tonight.”

You groan but take the phone to read through the little story Nat created. “Although I am fearing for my life, I have to give it to her. This is very creative and it sends shivers down my spine.”

You toss your phone onto the passenger seat. “If this is my last night, let’s end it right,” you say before dramatically sweeping Wanda in your arms and moving her to lie down as best as one can in the back seats of Nat’s car. She giggles as you nearly stumble to the floor due to your pants.

“Stupid jeans,” you mutter, swiftly taking them off and moving on top of Wanda who is still giggling. You quickly shut her up.

You wake up in the back seat of Nat’s car with Wanda in your arms. You feel three things at once: Wanda’s breath tickling your neck, the warmth of sunlight seeping through the car windows, and the beginnings of a headache. There is a loud screech that does nothing to help soothe the mild hangover. It wakes Wanda up as well. She voices her annoyance out loud, her morning voice husky.

“Ugh, what is that? Y/N, make it stop,” she demands, burrowing further into you as if that will somehow make it stop. Coincidentally enough it does stop, but before you can relax, you hear voices arise.

Wanda’s brows furrow and she tries to move away from you to see who could be coming to visit, but with the arm you have around her, you yank her back down into you.

“What are you doing?” you whisper yell.

She looks at you in confusion. “I’m seeing who it is.”

“Maybe that can wait once we’re fully clothed,” you suggest, pointing out the fact that all either of you have on are underwear and your shirts from last night.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, just stay still and hope they don’t peek in the car,” you command. The two of you stay quiet as the voices pass by. From the sounds of it, they come from two women.

“Oh, calm down! That landing was not that bad. It was way better than last time!” one of the women exclaims. Her voice sounds way too familiar, but you are too busy holding your breath in order to not get caught to actually try to place it.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Daisy. Wait, who let you fly it before?” the second woman asks, the end of her sentence sounding far away hinting at them approaching the front door away from the car you and Wanda currently hide in.

You hear knocking and then the front door opening. You think you hear Nat’s voice say something that sounds like “oh, fuck” but you aren’t too sure. You and Wanda only get up when you hear the front door close.

You both hastily redress into yesterday’s clothes. Peeking out the window, Wanda notices a jet outside that definitely was not there last night and seeing as there are no other cars around, she can only assume it belongs to the two women which makes sense after hearing that one of them flew it.

She sadly puts two and two together. These are the agents that would pick them up to take them back to the compound. You also pieced it together, “They’re here early.”

Wanda notices you sound a little peeved at that but you collect yourself. “Come on. Let’s go see what that’s about.” You give her a quick kiss before you exit the vehicle, holding the door open for her to step out.

Wanda has half a mind to pull you back into the car, wrap back up in you, and never let you go, although she knows in the end it’s not you that’s going but her that has to leave. She’s just sad that her ride is here so soon and that she had to wake up to it after a night like last night.

Last night was what felt like a wake up call for her. Lying in your arms, she began to wonder what she was even doing with you anymore. You make her feel like no one else has. She might have denied it all night, but she can be honest with herself. She knows she was jealous. She has never been jealous about anyone before and maybe because she knows she has no claim to you, in other words any reason to be jealous, she realized she wants to have a reason. She wants the right to be jealous.

You stand there patiently waiting for her to step out of the car. Once she’s out, you fix her hair for her. “There. Maybe not Sister Wanda but I didn’t leave any marks for you to be DJ Wanda either,” you joke, trying to pull a smile from Wanda.

You do, but you find it odd that she doesn’t whack you or anything for teasing. “Wow, no violence after making a joke like that. Are you feeling okay? Did the alcohol not hit you until right now? Are you somehow drunk?”

“No,” she rolls her eyes at you. “I thought we had a rule about not hitting you.”

“Oh, so now you remember the rules. It only took you til your last day here to remember them,” you chuckle, closing the door behind her. You begin walking toward the house but when you reach the porch you feel Wanda pull you back. You look at her with questioning eyes.

Wanda decides to finally voice all her thoughts and feelings that she has been keeping to herself once and for all. “About those rules-“

“Robin Hood?”

Wanda is cut off by that familiar voice you couldn’t place before but you couldn’t mistake it now especially given that nickname. There was only one person to ever call you that. You didn’t have to look to know who it was but you and Wanda both turn to see the last person you thought you would ever catch in Westview County standing on your cousin’s porch.

“Skye?”

______________________________________________________

Dun, dun, duUuUn

@madamevirgo @marvels-writings @gayarchnemissis @myperfectlovestory @purplemeetsblue @magicallymaximoff @b0mbdotc0m @helloalycia @ironscarletwidowsoilder @cantcontroltheirfear @trikruismybitch @your-my-mission @imagine-reblog @fayhar @idek-5 @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @paumxmff @wandamaximoffsrings @yeetus-thyself @lostandsearching @when-wolves-howl @euphoriaszn2 @gingerbreadcookieforlife @myfavoriteficss @cyberbonesworld

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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officialaemondtargaryen · 3 years

Text

Five Kisses pt. 2

Summary: Your relationship with Bucky is defined by five different kisses

Characters: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,877

Author’s Note: I hope that you are all enjoying this little series. This part will include one kissing trope: the “accidentally-witnessed-kiss”. In part one, we covered two tropes; “kiss-in-a-dream” and the “first kiss”. I think this is going to be four parts long, so I hope you all will stick with me through it. Please keep in mind this is the first thing that I have written in four years, so please be nice to me <3

You can find part one here!

The next few weeks seemed to fly by.

You had been working so much that you hadn’t really had much time to think about that night. Your boss had even commented on your work performance, and your recent knack for finding things to keep yourself busy with. You were afraid that if you allowed your mind to wander, you’d literally unravel. And you couldn’t let that happen, because you were doing a pretty amazing job at pretending like nothing had ever happened.

Bucky had come over to the apartment a few times since. The first time, you panicked and acted as if he was invisible. The second time, you lied about having food poisoning and spent the entire night in your room watching Schitt’s Creek while everyone played Mario Kart in the living room.

So, everything was back to normal.

And no one suspected a thing.

Or so you thought.

“Hey, do you mind if Steve and Buck come over tonight?” Natasha asked, standing in the threshold of your room.

“Why would I mind if they come over?” You asked, looking up from your laptop.

Natasha shrugged. “I feel like you’ve been a little more avoidy than usual, lately.” She said. “Wasn’t sure if something happened that night that Steve and I didn’t make it out to Josie’s.”

“No,” you said and shook your head. “Nothing happened. I’ve just been really busy. I’ve had a huge workload lately, and you know I’m not the best at dealing with my stress.”

It wasn’t a lie.

“Well we’re watching that new Tom Hanks movie later if you want to join.” She offered. “I think Steve said something about ordering pizza.”

“Tom Hanks and pizza?” You asked and Nat nodded. “How could I resist?”

You figured it best to at least try to not be ‘avoidy’ as Natasha called it earlier. After all, how long could you really get away with it? Bucky was constantly around and you couldn’t have food poisoning every few days. You knew that sooner or later you would have to face him, be around him, talk to him- but you were scared. What if he had realized that it was a mistake? What if it was just the alcohol?

What if he didn’t feel the same way?

Part of the reason why you had buried yourself into your work and hobbies was so that you didn’t have to think about things like this. Because the thought of him kissing you the way that he did, and then realizing that it might have been a mistake, nearly broke your heart.

A few hours later, you were sitting on the couch when you heard the sound of boots in the hallway. The front door opened to reveal Steve with a couple of pizza boxes and Bucky was behind him with a few bags of other snacks and a case of beer. His eyes found you almost instantaneously and you quickly averted your gaze back to the TV.

“Hey, Y/N!” Steve was smiling from ear to ear. “Long time, no see.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up, helping him with the pizza boxes. “I hope you made sure to get the garlic sauce.”

Steve sighed, “I forgot.” You gave him a scowl. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be joining us. I mean, you spend one night alone with Buck and suddenly you fall off the face of the planet! Was the night that bad?”

You were starting to get the impression that everyone already knew you and Bucky had kissed, and they were now just trying to get you to admit it. First Natasha’s comment about ‘something happening’ and now Steve. You bit on your lip and glanced over at Bucky. His eyes were downcast, pretending to be interested in setting up the table, but you knew he was avoiding your gaze.

Steve stood in between the two of you, looking back and forth at each of you until he bursted out in a loud laugh. “I’m kidding! Relax!”

He continued to chuckle to himself as he headed down the hallway towards Nat’s room, leaving you and Bucky in the kitchen, alone, the first time you had been alone with him since that kiss. But, as if it were now second nature to you, you pretended as if he wasn’t even there and turned on your heel towards the cupboards to grab some plates.

Bucky didn’t move however, he just stood idly at the end of the table; fingers fumbling with the napkins that came with the pizza. You turned back around, plates in hand and sat them down on the table. Your heart was pounding so loud, you were sure that he would be able to hear.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said quietly. You opened your mouth to object, but he shook his head. “Don’t try and deny it.” He said, his lips curling at the ends into a small smile. “Natasha told Steve that you didn’t really have food poisoning.”

Thanks Nat.

“You’re right,” you admitted. “I have been avoiding you.”

“Why?” He asked, completely oblivious- you were half hoping that he would figure it out on his own.

Now you were really caught between and rock and a hard place. You could confess to him all of your feelings and your fears, but the thought of doing so terrified you. All the while, his eyes were piercing a hole straight though to your soul, it seemed, as he waited for an answer.

“I don’t think that now is the best time to talk about it,” you told him with a gesture towards Nat’s room. “They’re already suspicious.”

Bucky nodded his head, “so you’re like worried they’ll find out, or somethin’?”

Immediately, you rolled your eyes. “No. Yes. I- I don’t know, okay? Look, can we talk about this later?” You asked him. “GUYS, THE PIZZA IS GETTING COLD AND I’M STARVING!” You yelled to Steve and Natasha who were probably eavesdropping on your conversation right now.

You could hear them start heading down the hallway towards the kitchen.

“So, who’s ready to eat?” Steve asked rubbing his hands together.

Natasha and Steve took up most of the couch during the movie, leaving you and Bucky to share the loveseat. Knowing that it was too small for the both of you to sit on it comfortably, Bucky ended up sitting on the floor with his back to you. Finding it incredibly hard to focus on the movie, you spent most of the two or so hours staring at his perfectly tousled, chestnut hair.

Your phone buzzed and you quickly glanced at the screen to see a text from Natasha. “You’re staring,” the text read and you looked up at her to see her looking right at you with eyebrows raised. You texted her back quickly, advising her that she should be paying attention to the movie and you saw her roll her eyes upon receipt.

When the movie ended, you noticed she and Steve whispering among themselves and not too long after that Steve stood up from the couch. “We’re going to run down to the store and grab some ice cream.” It was completely random and you definitely knew now that they were both up to something. “Does anyone want anything?”

You and Bucky shook your heads in sync.

They left shortly after and the apartment was suddenly filled with an uncomfortable silence. It was now or never for you and Bucky, and you knew that- and you weren’t sure how long Steve and Natasha were going to be gone for. He stood up from his place on the floor and moved to sit on the couch, directly across from you.

“Well this is incredibly awkward,” you said and he let out a laugh. A loud sigh escaped your lips as you tossed your head back on the cushion. “It’s not funny, Buck.”

“You’re right,” he replied trying to keep himself from smiling. “It’s cute.”

You sighed again. “Look, a few months ago, I didn’t like you at all. I’ll admit, I didn’t have a very good reason for it, but that’s besides the point. But then- I don’t know, something changed. And I wasn’t necessarily sure how to deal with it so I just kind of-”

“Avoided the situation.” Bucky confirmed and you nodded.

“But then we had a great night out and we kissed,” you continued. “And because my feelings had already begun to change before that, I guess I was just afraid that maybe you wouldn’t feel the same, and the reason you kissed me was because you were drunk.”

Finally. You hadn’t said any of this aloud to anyone and now that you had, it felt like a giant weight being lifted off of your chest.

“You thought the only reason I kissed you was because I was drunk?” He laughed again. “I guess we’re both pretty bad at conveying our emotions, then, because I have been wanting to do that ever since I first met you. And, since we are getting everything out in the open, I have a small confession to make.”

“What’s that?” You asked.

Bucky stood up from the couch and crossed over to sit next to you on the loveseat. He turned his entire body towards you and took your hands in his. “Don’t be mad okay?” He said, suppressing a small smile. “But I kind of asked Steve and Nat not to come to Josie’s that night.”

You pulled your hands from his and stood up from the loveseat. Bucky stood up, as well. “I knew it!” You exclaimed, jutting a finger into his chest. “Well, I suspected something. It was their idea to go out!”

Bucky grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers, pulling your arm behind him to wrap around his waist. “We were having such a good time,” he said. “You weren’t actively hating me.”

You smiled and shook your head and wrapped your other arm around his middle; leaning your head against his chest. “You made the right call.”

Bucky looked down at you kissed the top of your head. You moved to look up at him and he placed a finger underneath your chin, holding you in place as he closed the gap between you. It was even better than the first time, if that could be possible. He pulled you tight to him, as if you weren’t already close enough, and allowed his hands to explore your backside. You giggled as he cupped your ass, which prompted him to only deepen the kiss.

As soon as you remembered that Steve and Natasha could walk through that door at any moment, the front door flew open. You jumped back to see your friends standing in the doorway with wide eyes, mouths open with surprise. Bucky sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and you could see a blush creeping up to his cheeks.

“You owe me twenty bucks,” Steve said to his girlfriend.

You rolled your eyes and then noticed something off as neither one of your friends were carrying any bags from the store that they had said they were going to. “Wait a second, did you guys even leave to get ice cream?”

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rubix-writings · 3 years

Text

Punisher Pt. 7

Seventh part of Punisher. I couldn’t stop writing so here’s another part. I included a dress as a suggestion of what Jo would wear to the renewal, I’m just so obsessed with that dress, but imagine it how you want! This is a Chicago PD/Fire imagine with an original character. I don’t own any of the plot points or characters from the show. Also, it doesn’t follow any particular season or sequence in the shows.

Series Summary: Josephine (Jo) never expected to find support and pure love when she left Los Angeles. She ran away to Chicago and was content with living an insignificant, hidden life. But everything changes when she walks into Molly’s to get a job.

Josephine (OC) x Jay Halstead

The italicized lines are internal thoughts of the character.

Warnings: language, mentions of drinking, mentions of domestic abuse

“It looks great, thank you Jo,” Trudy warmly grabs my shoulder. I smile and let her get back to her other guests. The ceremony was short and sweet, Trudy and Mouch exchanged the same vows they did years ago. Trudy looked like a badass with her white suit while Mouch wore his dress uniform. Since they got married at city hall they didn’t get to have the full experience and wanted to dress up to the nines for the occasion. Everyone, out of respect, dusted off their dress uniforms as well, even the Intelligence Unit wore their’s. That left the doctors, spouses, and me in our formal wear. I haven’t had to dress up for an occasion like this in what felt like years, Silvie had to take me shopping to find a dress since I had nothing. I grab a glass of champagne from the table and bring it to my lips.

“Trudy happy with the place?” Jay asks, I nod as I swallow.

“Yeah, she even thanked me,” I say proudly.

“Well, it looks like you owe me a dance tonight,” Jay leans down to grab a bottle of beer from the tin tub filled with ice.

“Oh yeah? How did you come to that conclusion exactly?”

“It’s simple really. I helped you decorate this place and Trudy loves it so it would be a thank you dance so to speak,” Jay smirks as he pops the cap of his beer.

“Well if I had known that there would’ve been strings attached, I definitely would’ve thought it through more.”

“What more do you need to think through?”

“You don’t seem like a good dancer if I’m being honest.”

“I’m a great dancer.”

“We’ll see,” before Jay can respond we are told to take our seats for dinner and toasts. I’m sitting with most of the Molly’s crew - Stella, Kelly, Hermann, Cindy, me, and Matt, while Jay’s table is all of the Intelligence Unit. Normally I’d roll my eyes if they put Jay and I at the same table, knowing that it was them mostly teasing us, but right now I deeply wish that we weren’t at different tables.

“Excuse me everyone,” Chief Boden announces. “I was asked by the couple to say a few words.” The room quiets to listen, there are only a few clangs of silverware since people are still eating.

“I’ve had the privilege to know these two separately and as a couple. And let me tell you, if you don’t believe in soulmates, these two will make you reassess. I remember when they first met - I’d never seen Mouch so giddy and Trudy so… quiet. It was like they knew what was about to happen.

“I’ve been lucky enough to be with my wife for some years now, and her love changed me. Just like I know your love for one another has changed each other. I think anyone can tell you that love is easy, sometimes it's so simple, just like you’re waking up in the morning. But other times…. It can get really hard. Love isn’t something of convenience, there's sacrifice and there will never be a ‘right time.’ But I can tell you it’s so worth it,” without thinking, I look at Jay.

“You two have something so fierce that cannot be copied, but hell we all will try. To Randall and Trudy,” Chief Boden raises his beer to the couple that snaps me out of my daze. Maybe, I’ve been wrong this entire time to push Jay away. Boden’s words sit heavy on my chest for the rest of the toasts. Is it okay to confide in Jay? I turn to look at him again and this time I meet his bright blue, ocean eyes. He doesn’t try to look away, he smoothly winks and smiles.

“Thank you all so much for being here. We know we surprised everyone when we got married nearly ten years ago. You are all so important to us, that we wanted to go through this with you. We love you, now drink up!” Mouch yells. People immediately get up to get more drinks and start mingling again. I shoot down the rest of my champagne and go behind the bar to get more.

“I think you’re off the clock Jo,” Will jokes.

“It’s like a safe space, a security blanket almost.” I gesture to ask if Will wants another beer and he nods. “So how’s everything going with you and Nat? I mean, your ‘guy’ and his girl?” I slide him the opened beer.

“What?” his eyebrows furrow.

“You and Nat? The girl that just went through the ‘massive life change,’ you know who you have feelings for?”

“What? I wasn’t talking about us,” Will begins to whisper yell.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone.” I whisper back.

“No I really wasn’t talking about us. Why would you think I would be talking about us?!”

“Because her husband died a year ago?! And you’re shamelessly in love with her?! Also everyone knows that when they say ‘I know someone who’ they’re really talking about themselves!” I whisper yell back to him.

“I’m not shamelessly in love with her, please.”

“Yes you are.”

“No - I was talking about Jay!”

“What?” My voice sounds as if I was punched in the gut. Hearing that Jay wants someone else feels painful. It has to be karma for not speaking up sooner. I lost him.

Before Will can say anymore, Jay walks up to the both of us. He slaps his brother on the back and scolds us for not joining the party.

“I should get out there, thanks Jo,” Will stands up from the stool and walks away.

“What were you two talking about?” Jay asks through a laugh.

“Ugh… you actually.”

“Yeah? Whatever he said he’s lying,” Jay jokes, but I don’t laugh.

“He said you have feelings for someone, and it’s painfully obvious apparently.” “I wouldn’t say painfully -”

“But you do?” he nods. “I’m happy for you,” I plaster on a fake smile.

“You are?” he asks, almost confused.

“Of course, I’d love to meet her if I haven’t already,” Jay starts laughing.

“Jo,” he holds my hand. “I guess it isn’t so painfully obvious to one person. To the one person it matters.”

Oh shit.

“C’mon,” he doesn’t wait for me to speak. “I think you owe me a dance.”

Adele’s cover of “Lovesong” comes through the speakers as guests begin to couple up. Without a word I walk out from behind the bar and take Jay’s hand again. He strokes his thumb on the back of my hand as he leads me out to the dance floor. My other hand rests around his neck while his free hand wraps around my waist to pull me close. Our temples rest against each other as we sway to the music.

“I feel so stupid,” I whisper.

“Don’t, you needed time.”

“Thank you for giving it to me,” I pull away to look into his eyes.

“Of course, take all the time you need, okay?” I nod. “You look beautiful,” I can feel my cheeks flush.

“Thank you. You look…. Really hot in that uniform,” he laughs.

“Thank you,” we hold each other’s gaze. I watch as Jay’s eyes flicker down towards my lips. I look down towards our feet, not allowing the potential kiss.

“I’m sorry, it feels like everyone is watching us,” I whisper.

“You never have to apologize to me about that,” he whispers in my ear. “And you’re right, they are. Stella just gave me a thumbs up,” I laugh. Jay and I sway there for a while, despite knowing everyone is looking I never want to leave Jay’s arms. Luckily another slow song begins to play.

“I wanted to ask you something, um, police related,” he nods.

“I can’t get you out of that parking ticket Jo.”

“I paid it already,” he laughs. “No, I have this friend from back in LA and her boyfriend was horrible. He’s this drug runner, that would hit her so she got a restraining order. She moved to Boston to get as far away as possible, but would the restraining order still work in Boston?”

“Yeah, it should. Does she think he’d follow her out there?”

“Maybe? He’s unhinged and obsessive.”

“Well, I have some friends from the service that are now cops out there. I can give them her information to check on her.”

“You’d do that?” he nods.

“She’s important to you and she must be scared out of her mind.”

“Yeah, she is. But it took a lot of convincing to get her to even let me ask you about it, so I don’t know.”

“Whatever she’s comfortable with, you let me know.”

“I will, thank you,” Jay spins me out and back, making me laugh. I’ve never felt a moment more perfect than tonight. I guess I’ll have to make Will that Manhattan after all.

Taglist: @whit85-blog @bestillmystuckyheart @nocturnalherb16 @5sos-imagine @miranda0102

#Chicago Fire #Chicago PD #chicago one #chicago fire imagine #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x oc #punisher

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thebadchoicemachine · 3 years

Text

Yall want some MYCT Magnus Archive Headcanons I may or may not draw? (Pt 1?)

I will try to include individual trigger warnings at the beginning of each explanation as much as I can think of. They may seem a little overboard but better safe than sorry. Remember, TMA is a horror podcast.

(ALSO, EVERYTHING HERE IS /RP. EVEN WHEN I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT A ROLEPLAY VIDEO PLEASE KNOW I’M MAKING UP A CHARACTER BASED OFF THEIR CHANNEL AND AM NOT ACTUALLY ACCUSING THEM OF BEING A SERVANT TO A MALEVOLENT FEAR ENTITY.)

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Philza

1. An End Avatar (TW, Numb/Apathetic Mindset)

He’s a reaper. An immortal. You only live once but life’s become, not meaningless, more like desaturated. He doesn’t care in a cheery “oh well” way. He’s pretty chill about it. He’s extremely chill about it. He is disturbingly chill about it. At first it seems great, he’s just a nice chill guy! No evil schemes or vicious plots. Just spending time with him seems to calm your nerves. And then you spend more time and you begin to understand why, things aren’t as important as you make them seem. You catastrophize a lot. Then a catastrophe happens and you’re not... upset. Why... why would you be? It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. It won’t in a hundred years and it doesn’t now. would end the same anyways. And then he starts to be less and less relatable. Why is he so happy? Why does he bother to go meet people and smile and eat or laugh or frown. You can’t belive you ever complained that he was so mild about everything, any amount is more than is worth. Why bother? Why... bother...

2. A Vast Avatar (TW, Heights?)

He just fucking tosses people into the sky instead of being upset with them. Do anything he doesn’t like? SWOOSH. It’s to the point it’s not even a malicious thing, it’s just routine. He gets up, goes to the store, picks up some groceries, sends a person who cut in line to a void of dusk with swirling black clouds where you fall so long you can’t tell if you’re flying up or down or left or right, maybe gets some mints, goes home, puts groceries away, does the dishes, etc.

(the rest of the cast below the cut)

Tubbo

1. A Corruption Avatar (TW, Body Horror Surrounding Lungs, Swarming Insects, Implied Murder.)

He has bees in his lungs and he loves them very much. If he ever gets something stuck in his throat or has water go down the wrong pipe he will FEAK OUT. He often has to cough up honey (and sometimes bees). It’s... a process. He just sits over a bucket or jar and hacks his little heart out. He sometimes saves the honey and offers it to people. Amazingly, his friends never take him up on the offer. Unsuspecting people who don’t know the.. supernatural origin of the honey find they have some... unpleasant side effects. (Bees. The side effect is bees. Specifically ones trying to fly down their throat.) Oh well, being a part of a hive isn’t for everyone. The really unfortunate ones make good fertilizer for his flowers, though! His lungs are literally a hive. If you tried to listen to his heartbeat you’d hear buzzing. He will sometimes hold flowers over his open mouth to let the bees get some easy pollon. He doesn’t usually actively seek out “prey” but when he is trying to feed on that good old fear he’ll act super sweet, too sweet, and then open his mouth and let the bees fly out. It’s very creepy but to him it’s just funny. (Also, all of the bees have names and he has a funeral for every single one that get’s killed.)

Quackity

1. A Spiral Avatar

I- I mean have you seen a single one of his videos?

2. A Stranger Avatar (TW, Unreality Depersonalization )

He mocks people as their own reflection, hopping from pond to mirror to camera to scream at them (sometimes literally) that they do not know who they are. It starts off subtle (Wasn’t your hair a bit longer? Weren’t your eyes a shade lighter? Did you always have that birthmark?”) but grows and changes until it gets to the point you stand in front of a mirror and every time you blink you look completely different. You feel your face, you look at your hands, but it’s no help. They change too fast. Your pictures change too, every single post on all your social media looks like different people posted it- wait... did you always have this platform? You don’t remember ever using it before. You have so many posts... none of them match up. You throw your phone away, noticing you never had the case on it. You turn to real photos for help but they are none. Of course not. You feel like just giving up as you shuffle through photo after photo, you don’t know what you really look like, so what? But then something catches your eye. A photo of you in the 5th grade concert. You don’t remember going to that school. You’ve never played an instrument, have you? Something screams yes and no at the same time. You throw the box down and grab your phone. You need to call someone. You pace throughout a house you recognize less and less searching for clues, reminders, as the phone rings. Your best friend answers. You throw the phone down again. You don’t have a best friend. You’ve never really been one for friends. No, that’s not true, you had a few really good ones but you’ve grown apart. No, that’s not true, you only have one real friend, your boyfriend. No, you don’t have a boyfriend, just a close friend. No, you have many friends just none that are close enough for this bullshit. You stop. No. No you don’t like swearing, do you? Do you? Who are you? Who are you? Your reflection laughs. It’s eating popcorn and making you do a stupid dance. What a bitch.

3. A Flesh Avatar (TW, Body Horror Surrounding Faces and Skin)

You’re a piece of meat, he’s a piece of meat, everyone’s meat. Like Chicken Nuggets.He’ll steal your face right off it’s skull and dance with one in each hand. He’ll put words in your mouth like you’re a puppet with bones. He’ll make you say the dumbest shit because it’s funny. Even when it’s obviously not YOU talking.

Technoblade

1. A Hunt Avatar (TW, Stalking/Genocide)

Many people have suggested a slaughter avatar but I don’t see it. Yeah, he kills (blood for the blood god and all that) but I don’t see it. The Slaughter is about the moment. The unplanned snap. The sudden outbursts. I don’t see that in techno. You know what I DO see that also involves quite a bit of bloodlust? The chase. The planning, the target, the unstoppable dread and panic that overtakes his victims once they realize who is after them. The power. Calculated genocide of victim after victim. The HUNT. My two pain points of evidence: His potato war videos, that time he took over the world, and his stalking speech to Quackity. Go watch an animatic of Technoblade chasing down Quackity and tell me he is not a Hunt Avatar.

Wilbur

1. A Desolation Avatar (TW, Abuse/Torture)

Everything he touches burns and hurts. Sometimes it’s on purpose, sometimes on accident, but either way he’s caught up in enjoying the drama. I’m gonna be honest, my main inspiration was the Villainbur aesthetic but the more I thought about it the more it made sense. Look at nearly any of his 100 player videos; designed to create maximum pain for hs enjoyment. Even the Dream SMP where he was mostly a good guy and more tragic than anything else fits. Maybe that Villain Arc was his first dabble as an avatar of destruction and pain. Even making his own father kill him could have been along the lines of “how can I milk as much despair out of this as possible.”

TommyInnit

1. A Slaughter Avatar (TW, Straight Up Murder)

Now HERE is a character right up that slaughter’s alley. No thoughts, not plans, just unbridled passion and rage and violence. He just stabs people whenever he feels like it (which is often) sometimes just with sticks. Like a rabid raccoon just jumps straight at people’s faces out of nowhere, always starting shit and stoking fires to make people angry at each other.

2. A Buried Avatar (TW, small tight spaces)

Tunnels and caves and sticks and spots. He’ll burry you under a mountain, he’ll lock you in a tree. Dirt man. His usual MO is trapping people under an avalanche of stones and rocks and rubble. Basically just lava casting your bones. Everything he makes is ugly but not just in a ”that’s literally a pile of rocks in the middle of the road” way in a bit of an indescribable “looking at that makes me feel like I’m breathing in straight gravel.”

Bonus: Ranboo as a Dark Avatar/Victim. He is not a willing avatar like Jude or Helen, he’s more along the lines of Oliver and Jon.

#dream smp au #dsmp tma au

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dreamypeaches · 4 years

Text

don’t wake up pt. 7 (END) | rafe cameron x reader

summary: rafe gives you the fairy tale night he promised

warnings: SMUT (unprotected), cursing, alcohol use

word count: 4k

a/n: so...here it is. the final part. i can’t believe i actually finished a series. thank you for all the support, it means so much to me!! i am really proud of this whole series and seeing y’all validate me makes me cry. please enjoy :) and thank you.

series masterlist

Walking into Midsummers was one of the most nerve-racking things you had ever done. The few times you’d come before, you were working. Never had you excepted to walk in as a guest, never mind on the arm of Rafe Cameron. But now you were here, and you in a state of pure bliss. Most eyes were on you, but you hardly even noticed as you giggled like a school girl. Rafe’s hand was in yours, fingers interlaced as he pulled you through the party, glancing at you every few moment with a dopey smile.

His arm wraps around your shoulder as he takes a flute of champagne. He hands it to you before grabbing one for himself.

“I believe this was the first part of my master plan,” He says, tipping his glass towards you. You clink yours against it with a smile before you both down it in one go.

“Expensive champagne, check,” you giggle, the sparkling liquid already making you feel just as bubbly. Rafe’s hand found it’s place on your hip, holding you close as you surveyed the party. Another waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and you each grabbed one, taking your time to savor it.

Rafe was still in a state of disbelief. Just a couple of hours ago he had been ready to drink himself into a coma. Now he had you at his side, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt, and he felt on top of the world. Squeezing you against his side, he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You look so beautiful tonight.”

Your cheeks heat up as you turn to meet his eyes. You’re able to give him the briefest of kisses before you are interrupted.

“This is so weird.”

The smiles drop from your faces as your faced with John B, Kie, and Sarah. Trying to separate from Rafe, his arm tightens around your waist as he give his sister and her friends a tight smile.

“And?” He says, his tone vaguely threatening. He wasn’t going to let anything ruin this night.

“Don’t look at me like that, Rafe, you should be thanking me,” Sarah says with a smirk. “I created this,” she motions to you, “and she is perfect. Don’t ruin it!”

Rafe looks down at you, a small smile returning to his face.

“I won’t.”

“Seriously, dude, JJ already wants to kick your ass. Don’t give him a reason,” Kie chimes in. Rafe scoffs and shakes his head.

“I don’t plan on it! Now fuck off, I’m trying to show my girl a good time.”

John B and Kie pretend to gag as they walk off before shooting you a genuine smile. You sighed when they were out of ear shot, feeling as if a great weight was suddenly off your chest.

Bouncing in front of Rafe, you give him a wide smile as you move your body in a victory dance.

“That went so well!”

You twist and shimmy, reaching your hands out towards him, urging him to join you. How could he resist your charm? Especially when your dancing is the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. He takes your hands and pulls your forward, making you wrap your arms around his neck while he wraps his own around your waist.

“Did you not hear the part where they threatened to sick your guard dog on me?” Rafe scoffed.

“Yes, and I agree with them. You break my heart again I will send him after you. Pope too. He may not seem scary, but he’s got some fire in there.”

Rafe’s smile falter slightly when you mention him breaking your heart. Though he quickly covers it up, you notice the crack in his armor. Pulling him in for a kiss, you try to soothe his mind by swiping your thumb across his temple. You wished you could just reach in and pull every bad thought from his brain and throw them in the ocean. He had hurt you, this is true, but you would never in your life wish an ounce of pain onto him. The wounds on each of your hearts were still healing, and it would take time. But tonight, you just wanted to be happy. You wanted both of you to be happy.

“Will you dance with me?” You whisper against his lips.

“Already promised I would,” He replies, pulling away to lead you to the dance floor. He moves you closer to the edge of the group of dancers. Close to the beach, the pair of you are covered in slight shadow, slightly secluded from the party passing around you.

You never thought you could miss another persons touch this much. The past few days without Rafe, you had found yourself craving the feeling of him against you. From the way he was acting tonight, you were certain he felt the same. His hand had yet to leave your body since you met him outside. His hand was always holding your own, gripping your hip as he wraps his arm around you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you. Right now, his hands found a home on your lower back, holding you close as you sway to the music. You dance through a few songs, basking in each other’s love, before Rafe speaks.

“You are so…exquisite,” He says. The look in his eyes contains so much love you almost drown in it.

“Are we playing scrabble? That was easily a 20 point word, got an ‘x’ and a ‘q’ in there.”

“How about a few more words? You are…” He places a kiss on your cheek, “alluring.”

A kiss on the other cheek. “Stunning.”

On your jaw. “Ravishing.”

Your neck. “Heavenly.”

Your collarbone. “And drop dead sexy.”

His lips return to yours. This kiss is more passionate and needy than any of the others earlier that night. The shock and excitement of being back together again has worn off, and now there is just a deep need and urgency to be as close as possible. He starts to trail kisses across your jaw and down your neck, when you are once again interrupted. Someone clears their throat behind Rafe.

Rafe is suddenly ramrod straight, back stiff as he recognizes the disappointed aura radiating from his father. You took his hand as he turned, squeezing it to let him know you are there.

“So, this is her? The mysterious girl? Were you planning on introducing me at any point?” Ward Cameron questions, arms crossed at his chest. Rafe clears his throat, grip tightening on your hand.

“Um, dad, this is Y/N. My girlfriend.”

“Right, one of Sarah’s Pogue friends. We’ve met before, I believe?”

“Yes, sir. It’s nice to see you again,” You say, plastering on a smile. After everything Rafe told you about the man, you wanted nothing more than to give him a piece of your mind, maybe even knock his stupid teeth out. But you restrained yourself, not wanting to ruin the night.

“Well, don’t let me interrupt your night. Just try to be more modest, Rafe, please?” He starts to turn away, but pauses to say, “Congratulations. You seem very happy.”

The stiffness rushes out of Rafe, his hand nearly goes limp in your own.

“I think that’s the nicest things he’s ever said to me.”

Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you tug on his arm.

“Then let’s celebrate! More champagne!”

You find another waiter and grab two glasses, the two of you downing them in only a few sips.

The night passed like a dream. You and Rafe became lost in each other, in the pure bliss and love that you radiated. You danced and laughed and drank and ate and held onto each other for dear life. The bubble you had started your relationship in was gone, allowing anyone to gaze in on you. You were quick to realize your worries weren’t valid. Sure, people were looking at you, but you could handle a few strange looks and whispered comments if it meant you got to be with Rafe like this all the time.

You ran into the Pogues a few times during the night, including JJ and Pope, who were both working for Heyward. The tension between the two Pogues and Rafe had been thick. A lot of threatening glances and passive aggressive comments were shared. The three boys were about two seconds from whipping their dicks out and measuring them before you pulled Rafe away, rolling your eyes at the testosterone in the air.

It was easier with Topper and Kelce. The moment you had seen Kelce, you pulled him into a bone crushing hug, thanking him profusely. Rafe almost had to pry you off Kelce, trying his best to hide his obvious jealousy. Topper, on the other hardly said hello. You didn’t mind, and Kelce made up for it by practically saving your relationship.

Once Rafe finally forced you to say good bye to his best friends, you complained to him about the inherent misogyny you had experienced that night. A speech spurred on by the liquid stars moving inside you.

“The fact that I could hug your best friend and you and my best friends want to rip each other’s throats out is ridiculous. And do you know who’s fault it is? You fucking men. Getting all protective and territorial over me. Why don’t you go pee in a bush or something and let me handle myself.”

Rafe chuckled at you.

“You’re right, angel, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah you better be,” You replied with a tipsy smirk. Rafe laughed louder at you and wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging your back against his chest. He peppered kisses down your neck, the softest touches that tickled and made you giggle.

Midsummers was starting to wind down. The older guests and people with children at home were the first to leave, and everyone else began to trickle out after. The party was coming to a close. Staff were starting to clean up around the more drunken patrons. The dance floor, to the center of which Rafe pulled you, was practically empty. He made you stand in the middle, giving you a kiss and running over to the stage where a band had stood only an hour before. Now there was just a speaker playing a playlist someone hit shuffle on.

You watched Rafe fiddle with something, when the opening beats of Dreams by Fleetwood Mac floated from the speakers. He jogged back over to you, a grin on his face as he takes your hand. Pulling you close, he keeps his one hand clasped in yours while the other rests on your hip. Your hand rests on his shoulder, slowly moving to play with the hairs at the base of his neck. He begins to sway you in slow circles, your head resting against his shoulder. You hum along to the music for a few bars before sighing.

“This is a sad song, you know.”

“I mean, the words might be sad, but it doesn’t make me sad at all. Because all I can think about when I hear this song is you.” You grin into his chest.

You’re silent for the rest of the song. Despite the long night and the exhaustion in your bones, neither of you wants this night to end. Your minds are wide awake, taking in every second.

You and Rafe continue swaying as the music fades out. He leans down to place a kiss below your ear before whispering.

“Did you happen to receive my other gift?”

You smirk up at him, your eyes suddenly clouded with lust.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Eyes darkening, Rafe licks his lips and pulls you away from the nearly empty party, down towards the beach. You’re forced to pull your shoes off as Rafe leads you down the sand. Eventually, you reach a patch of trees that create a small, secluded area on the beach. There is a few chairs and towels hanging around, a box off to the side, signs of life littered across the small stretch. Rafe brings towards the back. He grabs a large blanket from the box and spreads it out before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He begins to place open mouth kisses down your neck, nipping at the skin in some places making you gasp.

“What is this place?” You question.

“A Kook hangout we made a few years ago. Don’t worry, no one comes here this late,” He reassures you before continuing his assault on your neck. One hand tangles itself in your hair, pulling it to give himself better access to you. The other hand slides down your side, grabbing at the skirt of your dress and bunching it up, revealing your bare thigh to the open air. You gasp at the contrast of the cool hair and his warm hand as it trails up to the waistband of your lacy underwear. His finger ghosts across your slit over the fabric, making you whimper. He suddenly pulls away from you and shoves you gently forward.

You turn to face him and feel your core ache at the look he’s giving you. A cocky smirk graces his lips while his eyes are burning with hunger and lust.

“Strip,” He commands. You do as he says, never breaking eye contact as you tug at the dress, letting it pool at your feet.

Rafe let’s out a fuck under his breath as he takes you in. Clad in the lingerie he had bought for you, this image was one he had been dreaming of since he purchased the fabric. It’s white, just like your dress, adding to the already heavenly glow the moonlight casts on you.You go to remove the crown of white daisies on your head but he stops you.

“Don’t. You look beautiful in it.”

Your cheeks heat up as you slowly lower your hands down to your sides. You feel yourself melting under his gaze. He licks his lips before he dives in, holding your face between his hands as he crashes his mouth to yours. The kiss is hungry, and you prepare yourself to be absolutely devoured by the man in front of you. Not that you minded.

Fingers dance down your sides and into he waistband of your underwear. The teasing touch of before is gone as he presses against your clit, making you scream in shock and pleasure. He holds the pressure, starting to move his fingers in slow circles. Your eyes roll back, so much pleasure hitting all at once like a tidal wave. Rafe’s other and holds the back of you neck, pulling you away from the bruising kiss.

“I’m going to make you cum some many times tonight, you won’t be able to walk for a week. Are you ready, angel?”

You give a weak nod and a whimper, only to whine when he moves all touch. His hands move instead to grip your ass, giving one cheek an agonizing slap.

“I need words.” He gives another slap to end his statement.

“Yes, Rafe. I’m ready. I want you.”

A primal grin spreads across his face. He pushes your shoulder, nodding toward the blanket.

“Lay down for me.”

You lay on your back across the blanket, allowing you to look up at the moon and stars, but your focus is not on that ethereal sight. Instead, you are focused on the sinful man in front of you, who removes his bow tie and jacket. In no time he is undressed down to his boxers and kneels down between your legs.

He leans forward to capture your lips for a moment, before moving down your body. He makes sure to leave hickies across your collarbone and chest, peppering a few on your stomach as well. He snaps at the elastic band with his teeth before for pulling the underwear down with his fingers.

“You look so fucking beautiful in these, I want to see you in them again. We can’t go ruining them on the first night.”

As he speaks, his breath fans across the expanse of your stomach, but it is his words that make you shiver. He pulls the garment down your legs slowly, allowing the anticipation to build until you are squirming for his touch. He removes your bra next, your nipples hard in the cool ocean air. His finger ghost across them, sending waves of pleasure down to your pussy.

“Please, Rafe. I’ve missed you so much, missed your touch so much. Don’t keep me waiting,” You moan, but there is no threat in your words. You both know exactly who is in charge here.

“Did you think about me, angel? Did you touch yourself and wish it were my fingers making you cum?”

You bite you lip and nod as you make eye contact with Rafe. He smirks and one of his fingers tease your entrance, gathering wetness before plunging in. Moans drip from your lips as he sets a steady pace, fingers curling up to touch your g-spot. He adds a second, then a third. He kisses you neck as he speeds up, other hand moving to rub your clit. You are a moaning mess, clenching around his fingers as you get closer and closer to your climax.

“Is this what you wanted? You want to cum all over my fingers?”

“Yes! Yes, please, I want to cum. Can I cum?”

He groans at your pleading tone, fingers starting to pound into you.

“Cum, angel.”

You do so with a scream, back arching off the ground as he slows his movements only slightly. He replaces the hand on your clit with his mouth, giving the bundle of nerves a few kitten licks before pressing down on it with the flat of his tongue.

“Fuck!” you scream, still sensitive from your orgasm only seconds before. His fingers pick up the pace again, his tongue continuing to attack your clit. Your second orgasm comes quickly, and he removes his fingers, not allowing you time to adjust to the emptiness before he starts to fuck you with his tongue. An arm lays across your torso, holding you down as you buck into his mouth. His other hand moves to you clit, giving a much gentler touch than before. A few minutes later, Rafe is lapping up the juices of your third orgasm.

He sits up and grins at you, lips shining with your wetness. Your eyes are hooded, exhausted from the pleasure coursing through your veins. He kisses you, quick to deepen the kiss by plunging his tongue into you, allowing you to taste your self.

He pulls away to remove his boxers, lining himself up with your entrance when he returns. You hiss as the tip brushes across your clit as he gathers your wetness. He thrusts into you slowly with a low moan, savoring every inch of your pussy around his dick. You meet his eyes as he bottoms out, stilling inside of you for a moment. His face suddenly softens and he gives you a tender kiss.

“I love you,” He said

“I love you too,” You replied. The words leave your mouth wrapped around the promises of tomorrow, of spending another day on Earth with you. He kisses you again as he pulls almost all the way out, slamming back into you fully. You scream against his lips as he sets a brutal pace. He hikes one of you knees higher on his hip, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing lightly as he fucks you into the sand.

Rafe never found you more beautiful than now. Your halo askew on top of your disheveled hair. Your tits bounce as he pounds into you, moving in rhythm with his hips. Moans and curses fall from your sweet lips and Rafe groans at the sight of your wide open mouth and closed eyes. An angel screaming for god as she faces the heavens. He squeezes your throat a little tighter.

“Say my fucking name, angel.”

“Fuck! Rafe! Rafe…please, Rafe!”

The new mantra spills from your mouth, sweet like honey. He catches it with his own lips, thrusting harder. You feel the sting of his hips snapping against yours and you love it.

You feel your legs start to shake as you approach your fourth orgasm, and Rafe can feel it to. He moves his hand to rub your clit but the pressure he gives it sends you over the edge. You scream his name, becoming a whimpering mess as he continues to fuck you.

“It’s too much…” You whimper but he quiets you with a kiss.

“One more. You’ve got one more for me, angel.”

He hooks one of your ankles on his shoulder and you moan as he hits you deeper than ever before. He continues to rub gentle shapes into you clit. As you get closer to the edge, you feel Rafe’s thrusts get sloppier. You clench around him as you cum, the feeling sending Rafe over right behind you.

He gives you a few more pumps before pulling out completely and collapsing next to you. You feel absolutely spent, breath heavy from the multiple orgasms of the night. You’re ready to curl into Rafe and pass out, but his finger linger down your body to your center.

“I can’t…” You manage to get out, but it fades into a moan as Rafe massages your clit slowly. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, biting it lightly before sucking on it and pulling away with a pop.

“Just one more. Please, angel. You’re doing so good for me.”

You moan as he goes back to your breasts, sucking at biting at them as he continues to rub your clit slowly. Your sixth orgasm builds slowly, almost taking you by surprise. You cum with a quiet moan, legs shaking as Rafe brings you down from your high. He leaves a few more kisses on your collar bone before standing up, returning a few seconds later with another blanket. He pulls you close to him, covering the both of you in the blanket. You fall asleep quickly under the stars, body exhausted from the stress, excitement, and pleasure of the day.

Rafe awakens to the sunrise, orange rays scattering across your bodies Your chest rises and falls against his and he makes sure to memorize every part of your body. Yesterday had been blissful. For a moment, you both got to forget about the problems that surrounded your relationship. But it was a new day, and the rest of his time with you would be an uphill battle.

He had shit to work on, shit he would never want you to see. But he wanted you, hell, he needed you by his side through all of it. He trusted you to hold his fragile heart and prayed that you would allow him yours. He refused to shatter it again, especially when it was still mending. He would hold it tenderly and cherish it for the rest of his days.

The days ahead would be rough. There was a lot to talk about. But he thinks of that night beneath the stars over two months ago, when you found him. Neither of you knew it then, but when you sat beside him on the sand and spoke sweet words, you had taken his heart and never given it back. He didn’t mind, he knew you would keep it safe.

As he felt you stir beside him, he closed his eyes and pulled you closer, wanting to spend a little longer away from reality for a little longer. It was time, though. Time to love you wholly. Time to love himself as much as you loved him. Time to get his life together.

“Rafe,” You whisper, “it’s time to wake up.”

taglist: @teenwaywardasgardian @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @obxmxybxnk @butgilinsky @juliarose21 @bluesiderudy @ilovejjmaybank @diverrdown @diverdcwn @mdlyncline @https-luna @broken-jj @nqbmf @ityagirljay @downbytheouterbanks @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @trinnwazheree

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #obx fic #my writing

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Attached: Hurtful Words Pt.1

Type: (mini)-series, Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 5600

Summary: Stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

You knew for a fact that it was a load of BS. The truth is that words can break your heart. And that realization hits you full force the day you have your last exam to earn your bachelor degree.

If you pass, it will be a cause for great celebration. Spoiler alert: it’s not.

A/N: Attached: Hurtful Words is an addition that loosely followes the series. Will be in two (or three) parts. You don’t necessarily need to read the mini-series as a whole, but you will understand much better.

Warnings: I did something in here which I’m usually trying to avoid at any cost; in this story, I used Y/N Y/L/N. Does that count as a warning?

Warnings II: name calling, humiliation, panic attack!, bad poetry, mentions of vomiting and alcohol, the briefest mention of self-harm, angst, swearing, threats of violence

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You released the breath you had been holding, all your willpower put into not sinking into the chair in relief as Professor Phillips announced your grade – one that meant that you hadn’t failed.

In fact, you had just passed your last exam of your bachelor program so you were entirely in the right. In your head, an overexcited monkey started playing cymbals and you didn’t mind the noise despite how sleep-deprived you were from the past few days. A barely contained mad smile fought its way to your lips instead.

Mind you, as you thanked Professor Phillips and rose to your feet – your knees almost giving out, because HOLY SHIT YOU JUST GOT YOUR BACHELOR’S – you would swear you saw a brief smile on the professor’s face too as if he was amused at your antics.

But who cared if he was having fun at your expense?! You PASSED! You had been losing sleep, terrified of this exam, because everyone knew Phillips was a hard-ass – a fair one, but still a hard-ass – and you just passed his examination!

Time to pop the fucking champagne! The one Penny had been saving at the dorm from yesterday when she had finished her own degree; she insisted that she would wait for you, because you were in this together.

You couldn’t leave her waiting any longer and you didn’t have any intention to do so.

Leaving the room and walking into the empty hallway – because of course you came the last as if to prolong your torture – you breathed in and out and deliberately let the grin finally spread on your face fully.

You were free, you were ready to take on the world despite not being ready at all and you had Steve, who you suspected would be proud as hell and would celebrate with you tomorrow, graciously letting you and your roomie do it first-- and gosh, life was beautiful.

Making your way down the corridor, with a grin ever-present, a leaflet that hadn’t been there before caught your attention. It appeared a handwritten note, styled in a regular column – a poem perhaps.

Still smiling, the curiosity took the best of you and you walked to it, peripherally noticing that along the walls, there was even more.

You froze in your step when your gaze fell on the first line; your very own name was staring back at you and it confused you at first, a brief surge of excitement lighting up your body, a naïve belief that perhaps Steve somehow decided to surprise you.

But Steve’s last name came next, which you found strange.

And then came the word ‘whore’ and your heart stopped, your gaze automatically flickering all over the page.

Your stomach made a painful somersault, your mind turning blank.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of that nightmare materializing in front of you, reading and re-reading the poem that almost resembled a twisted nursery rhyme over and over.

Y/N Y/L/N Rogers’ whore Bet she’ll get The highest score For sucking dick Having fucked her ass Let’s hope she’ll soon Be eating grass

Darkness battled to cut off your vision, the world swaying off of its place. Involuntarily, your trembling hand reached out and touched the paper, smooth under your fingertips, your frantically beating heart and the vertigo threating to overpower your sense of balance tying you to the reality, screaming at you that this wasn’t just a really fucked-up dream.

You tore the paper down, lump growing in your throat as you looked around for watchful eyes in sudden paranoia of being followed, only to find the hallway deserted aside from you.

Just you and many papers hanging on the walls.

As if you were just a puppet to a spiteful master, your feet carried you to the next leaflet, tears filling your eyes as you found the very same words written on it; a precise copy.

Your breathing picked up a furious pace, your chest crushed under a weight of an invisible elephant stomping on it. The corridor swam in the dampness of your eyes, your mind too quiet and yet screaming with millions of question marks and exclamation points, panic squeezing your lungs, nausea attacking your stomach.

What the hell was happening? Who would do that? Why? What was the goal? Was it just to ruin your triumph?

Because if that was the goal, it was a roaring success; the thousands of questions swirling in your head and the unexpected sting in your heart turned the fact that you had passed an exam into a faint memory.

All you saw was the words.

Rogers’s whore

Was that what you were? Was that how people who knew about the relationship saw you? Was that how Steve saw you?

The highest score for sucking dick

Was that what you were doing? Using Steve’s position to your advantage? Was that how you got through every exam including the one today, even if unwittingly? Was that what Phillips’ little smile had been about?

Hope she’ll soon be eating grass.

Was that a threat? Was someone wishing that happened to you or were they actually about to hurt you? Why?!

Hearing your own wheezing and feeling your fingertips prickling, your foggy mind did the only reasonable thing it could come up with; it led your steps into the nearest bathroom at lightning speed with no regard for how shaky were your feet.

You stumbled into the open stall, smashing the door shut and leaning onto them with your suddenly damp forehead, feeling the cold beads of sweat gather in your hairline, your cheeks drenching in tears.

When did you start crying so hard?

When did the trembling in your limbs begin?

What the fuck was happening?

What-how--why-but-

Your palms rested on the door as you desperately tried and failed to ground yourself and take control of your breathing. Your temples were pounding irritatingly, your gut painfully clenching--- and exactly in that moment that could have lasted a second or an hour, your fingers brushed over a piece of paper stuck on the door.

Darkness curled around your brain like a treacherous friend, another wave of nausea twisting your stomach.

It took you one blurry glance at the paper and you knew precisely what it was, choking on your sob, ripping the offensive poem off and tearing it to pieces which you blindly threw to the toilet, the flushing sound deafening to your ears.

Your shaky legs finally gave out, knees buckling, your body sliding down the stall wall, fingers pulling at your hair as you felt the dizziness engulfing your head, a bitter taste in your mouth.

You gripped tighter, hoping that the pain on the surface would overpower the pain and gaping hole inside, as another violent sob erupted from your throat.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

An eternity later, you felt your whole being float.

Your breathing was still frantic and interrupted with sobs, but a sensation resembling serenity spread in your very core—or perhaps it was just numbness?

You couldn’t seem to be able to tell the difference anymore.

The creak of a door made you cover your mouth to muffle the noises still escaping your lips for the fear of being caught – either being found in this state in general or found as in found by the person who wrote---that – being stronger than the subdued power of your previous breakdown.

It was probably too late for the newcomer to miss your presence, but over the slowly fading ringing in your ears, you could hear a few steps that came to a halt and then they sounded a bit quicker as the woman left.

Thank FUCK. You couldn’t do human interaction of any kind right now.

You removed your hand and breathed out shakily, blinking away the tears.

Shaking your head wildly, you gritted your teeth in a feeble attempt at bolster yourself. You had to get up off your ass and leave before there would be no longer way of avoiding a confrontation – god forbid a confrontation with Steve, who was probably still in a class, testing his own students.

You climbed to your feet, wiping the remains of your tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand and went to fix your ruined make-up, hopefully enough to look little less suspicious when walking through the campus.

It was probably a vain effort, because you were a walking epitome of a mess.

Rogers’s whore, sounded in your ears and you shook your head again, inhaling sharply through your mouth.

It was time to run and then break down again at the dorms. With Penny preferably--or did she think you were a whore too? You were fucking a professor after all-

Stop that!

Penny wasn’t like that. She understood. She’d be willing to listen all about this outrageous act of terror and would sympathize. Right?

Yeah, you’d talk about it with Penny, your amazing friend, who needed a celebration and a very generous amount of alcohol, which happened to be exactly what you needed too.

Yep, that sounded pretty good.

With one last determined glance on your horrible reflection in the mirror, you headed out.

The door nearly hit you in the face on its way back as you threw it open and froze in the doorway.

You did not expect to see someone so soon after leaving your improvised safe space… let alone him.

“Prof-professor Wilson,” you choked out, clearing your scratchy throat as he stood there, unmistakably waiting for you.

Because that was what you needed at the moment. The university counsellor and professor of psychology in one person.

Fuck.

He said you name in a mild tone, almost as if trying to tame a wild animal, but not quite – all his voice made you feel was shame at getting caught. And a bit of anger at the whole fucking world, because why couldn’t you have a tiny piece of peace after seeing that? Just a little shred of luck, huh?!

Oh, right, you were a whore who were only using Professor Rogers, paying for it in sexual favours.

“Mind if we talk in my office for a bit?”

“Not like I really have a choice…” you mumbled automatically, the realization of how rude it sounded dawning to you oh too slowly, your brain too tangled up in a web of self-pity and self-loathing. “Sorry. Of course. Lead the way.”

“Good. Thank you,” he replied, appearing unoffended. “And for the record, you do have a choice.”

Hadn’t you been a wreck with burning tear-stained cheeks, your face might have felt hotter at the kind remark.

At the slowest pace possible, you followed Professor Wilson to his office, dread and exhaustion filling every fibre of your being.

You noticed however that the walls that had been lined with odes about you, put up for everyone to see, had disappeared; possibly Wilson’s own work.

Somehow, it didn’t make you feel much better, the image of the previous addition to the corridors’ decor stuck in your brain. But hey, it was supposed to be the thought that counted, right?

And Professor Wilson was a nice guy. He offered you a drink – sadly a non-alcoholic one – attempted a joke saying that no, it was no trouble getting you one, which was the reason he offered.

Generally, he treated you as if he wanted to provide you with a safe space.

And then he kindly told you that he knew about the poem, because his cousin who’s in her first year here at the uni, texted him what the heck was the e-mail she received on her uni account about.

In other word, he gently broke to you that whoever had done this possibly sent it to every student in the database too.

You nearly threw up hearing that; the pit you had climbed up from and of which edge you were balancing, deepened. But you didn’t fall back there.

Yet.

It was probably because you were still too shocked at the information.

“I hate asking that question, but do you have any idea who did this?” Wilson asked quietly and you had nothing but a helpless shake of a head for a reply. You felt your vision blurring, dizziness fogging your brain again. “Can you think of anyone who holds a grudge against you for some reason?”

A scoff escaped your lips, cynical as you found the answer obvious from the verses.

“Besides dating Steve, you mean?” you noted sarcastically. Wilson waited for more, his eyebrows twitching in surprise and expectation before he got it under control. “Sorry, I meant Professor Rog-“

“Hey, you can call him Steve,” he assured you, so damn sweet and diligent. “I met him, you know, I’d go as far as calling him a friend. And right here, right now, he is not your professor, but your boyfriend. I’m talking to you as a counsellor so feel free to call me Sam if you’re comfortable. And to answer your question, I assume that it is as good motive as any, but the fact that the two of you are dating is practically a public knowledge at this point, so it doesn’t really narrow our field of suspects.”

Despite his openness and kind approach, you once again could only shrug, growing desperate by the minute. The urge to leave – because suddenly it made even more sense, him taking you here, he was friends with Steve, he was stalling – became unbearable.

You didn’t have the strength to see Steve now. You couldn’t. You would question every gesture, analyse everything and perhaps came to the conclusion that he agreed with the author of the poem and you desperately didn’t want that. You needed to forget about this, preferably with an unhealthy amount of alcohol, you needed to cry some more, you needed ice-cream and a hug and to bitch about everything and you needed a fucking nap that would last at least a week.

“I don’t know who hates me that much, I swear. Can I please go now?”

Sam cocked his head to side, a minute frown creasing his brows. “Is that what you want?”

Do you really want to leave before Steve gets a chance to get here?

You should probably feel guilty. You wanted to feel guilty, because that was you being a coward and it was downright mean to Steve, who would no doubt learn about this very soon and from someone else, but you didn’t have the capacity to think about anything at all besides feeling like you were going to explode any second.

“Yes. Thanks for being nice and all, but I—I’d rather go.”

“You have a roommate? A friend you live with and who’s in?” he fussed, voice gravely, amiable chocolate eyes observing you with worry. Did he think you were about to hurt yourself? Did you look like the type? Were you? You mentally shook your head. Jesus.

“Yeah,” you creaked, already rising to your feet, endlessly grateful that he was letting you go. “Penny. We— uhm, we were supposed to go celebrating.”

You nearly choked on the last word, feeling like everything but going out tonight. The idea of going out and facing all the stares cause by the widely-spread e-mail made your stomach clench.

You kinda lost the appetite to celebrate anything to begin with; all the relief and joy, which had filled every last bit of your being post-learning your grade, vanished and was replaced by a dark sticky substance filling your lungs, your gut, your veins, muffling the outside world.

Perhaps Penny would agree to a loud night in?

“You can still do that, that’s up to you. But please, get some sleep and don’t be alone. Here,” he stood up as well, handing you a card. “My number, even if you just need to talk to a sort-of outsider and word-vomit all over someone, okay?”

You couldn’t argue with his offer – you had a feeling you’d vomit soon, either verbally or literally. Still, you charmed a shaky smile that probably turned out a grimace.

“K. Thanks… Sam.”

“Any time.”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Of course, Wilson’s unspoken question about moving quick to avoid an encounter with certain professor was painfully on point.

You bailed on Steve whom you were supposed to wait for even if just for a hug and congratulations, practically running to the dorm, your unsteady feet and tears still clouding your vision be damned.

You ignored the ringing of your phone, assuming it was Steve himself; bile rose to your throat at the idea of hearing his voice at that moment. He tried twice before you smashed the power button and threw the phone back to your purse, breathing out in relief and wanting to puke at the same time.

You truly couldn’t find the capacity to deal with him momentarily – you needed to be alone and safe from any prying eyes, preferably in the comfort of your shared dorm with Penny. You cried harder when you finally reached it, your feet hurting from attempting to run in heels.

It wasn’t hard to figure out that Penny somehow already knew, probably from the e-mail – it was written all over her face. And hadn’t her expression been enough, instead of a celebratory champagne she handed you a shot of a transparent liquid the moment you opened the door.

You turned it bottoms up without questioning it and asked for another. Penny grabbed the bottle of vodka waiting on the shoe rack and poured one for you and one for herself. You didn’t bother clinking the glasses.

Though the burn in your throat felt pleasant, it did nothing to sooth the burn in your eyes and heart. Penny’s embrace made it a bit better.

So did the third shot of vodka.

You didn’t switch on your phone that day again – and when it was nearing midnight, after a four-hour nap, you convinced Penny to go celebrate to the Freddy’s as you had originally planned to do. You pretended that no one stared at you and instead you danced and drank until your mind was swimming enough for the sorrow and anger to drown.

You were one lucky bitch to have Penny walk you home.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve was sitting at his desk at the faculty office he shared with Bucky and was working hard at what he excelled at for these past days despite his genuine efforts at not doing so; getting absolutely nothing done at all.

His hands had grown somewhat unsteady, a reflection of how he was feeling, how torn and absurdly broken he had become. He was spilling drinks on a regular basis, items kept falling from his flimsy hold. His brain felt foggy these days as well, most likely a consequence of the shitty sleep he was getting.

His bed felt too big despite his rather large frame and too cold despite his body temperature usually running almost too high; the sheets smelled strange and foreign despite being his own and the bed screamed with emptiness on a volume that kept interrupting his already deficient sleep.

Four days.

Four days since one stupid poem knocked his world out of its orbit and everything that mattered crashed down. Well, perhaps not everything, Steve happened to like his job too and he still had it, but such detail seemed insignificant; it certainly did in comparison to the fact that he had been attempting and had failed to reach you.

Calls.

Texts.

Few e-mails when he felt particularly helpless and frustrated.

His messed up sleeping and eating schedule and the irregularity that came with the exam period would make a perfect case of him losing any notion of time – yet Steve knew about every second without you, practically counting them.

He could still see Sam Wilson standing outside the classroom he had been testing students’ knowledge in as if it happened yesterday. He could recall with painfully stark clarity the unreadable expression on his face and the ominous “Steve, man… we need to talk.”

Steve still remembered Tony Stark waltzing in the next day with a baby in some sort of a front backpack, agitated that someone had gotten into the database, let alone to send all the hate-emails, and how he announced he found the culprit and their accomplices in an hour, which apparently happened to be too long to his liking.

Steve would smile at the memory of the technical genius’ antics, but the gaping hole in his chest caused by the deafening silence from you prevented it. Hell, not even the vivid picture of Carol Danvers from the faculty of law, moonlighting like a member of the legal department of the university, made the corners of his lips rise.

And hadn’t it been quite a show, a downright uplifting experience.

Steve was watching the screen with a frown, a stone-solid clench to his jaw and a firm clench to his fists.

It was almost amusing really; Bucky kept going about Fury being a creep and not a spy, but despite the lack of a one-way glass, the space Carol and the girl was in – just like two other rooms, each with one man – resembled an interrogation room. Steve never had been more grateful for audio and video feed in his life, but he sure as hell wasn’t laughing in delight at being proved right.

In fact, it had been taking all of his willpower not to burst into those rooms and give a piece of his mind to every single person guilty of being involved in hurting you. In causing his life to collapse on itself.

Steve couldn’t quite recall the brunet Carol was roasting, but he suspected he had seen her in one of the classes he was teaching. She didn’t stand out from the crowd of students and he didn’t see anything special about her worth remembering; then again, he tended to forget to take notice of other pretty faces ever since he had laid his eyes on yours.

And right now, all he saw was a face of a vicious bitch who forced you into pushing him away and a single look at her had his blood boiling.

Steve truly wanted to punch the living daylights of her and that said something, because he prided himself in having moral objection to hitting women, especially from sheer anger.

However, the desire was growing with each piece of information he learned. Because Yvonne Whatever-Is-Her-Name was a piece of work for fucking certain.

She talked a guy number one, whom she was attending Introduction to Social Studies 101 and who had a very apparent teenage-like crush on her, into reaching out to his friend, guy number two, whom he often played some online video game with, into hacking the database, sending the e-mails and finding out when and where exactly your exam was, just so Yvonne herself could redecorate the corridors and bathroom and make sure you wouldn’t miss her work of art.

Carol was alternating between visiting each of the ‘suspects’ and man, did they sing like birds.

Steve wanted to strangle them all, but fuck, the hatred for Yvonne Burton specifically was already consuming him and gnawing at his very soul; yes, he found out her last name just so he knew his mortal enemy. He was going to burn her to the ground, one way or the other… not that Carol hadn’t been doing a fine job so far.

That damn brunet had tears running down her face, sobbing occasionally, but still rarely sassing back. Somehow, seeing her like that wasn’t half as satisfying as Steve hoped, because his mind kept wandering to you and wondering if you looked about the same and every time such picture formed in his head, he hated Ms.Burton a fraction more.

She had used a guy who liked her, which Carol blatantly pointed out. The lawyer didn’t seem to hold back her own snark if the question about how the culprits met – via some forum for bruised ego, was it? – was anything to go by.

“I might be a lawyer, but I’m begging for every art professor and author I know – stay away from poetry. What you wrote is a child’s rhyme really, but like every writing, it says a lot about who you are. And it gives me a plenty of ammunition. We have two names, one full, one last name pointing out a specific person from the context. If I play my cards right, we have defamation on our hands, libel to be precise. Congratulation,” Carol remarked in a surprisingly calm voice. The other woman visibly paled. Good. “And what about the last line? Is that… is that a threat of violence? I can make it harassment, but if I try hard enough, perhaps we can consider it something more serious…?”

“You don’t get to threaten me! You’re lying! I’ve done nothing wrong and so serious!” the girl – and really, in Steve’s eyes, she was nothing but a stupid girl who somehow managed to kick his life in its balls – exploded, jumping to her feet.

Carol levelled her with a glare and an irritated hiss. “Sit down.” Burton did, clammy hands curled up in trembling fists. “And you’ve done more than enough.”

“You don’t understand!”

“Oh don’t I? Be my guest then. Explain it. Your motivation, the legal side, anything. I’m all ears.”

“I love him!” the girl exclaimed and Steve grinded his teeth as a surge of rage shooting through his veins.

Like fucking hell she did. He didn’t remember even talking to her if he ever had to start with and she loved him?!

Was that really what this was about? This girl somewhat liked him and got obsessed? Decided to wreck his girlfriend? To what end? To drive the two of you apart? To make you hate him so he would run to her? To simply ruin your future? What the fuck was wrong with her?! She was a damn kid with hurt pride and zero efforts put in so far, because he couldn’t even remember her-

“Oh you really don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have done this,” Carol responded with a cold edge to her voice, apparently agreeing with Steve’s thoughts and being equally unimpressed with Ms.Burton dramatic confession.

“I’m fighting for him! Ain’t nothing wrong-”

Oh Steve would argue with that so hard. He could feel Sam watching him from the corner of his eye, but neither of them said anything as Steve gripped the edge of the table the monitors were on.

He was sure he was going to be sick, the edge of his vision doing something he only read about; as if truly turning red, crimson with hunger for blood. He never ever craved tearing someone in half, not a single one of the guys who bullied him in school, not the girls that laughed at him when he said he liked them; and make no mistake, he had always felt mad enough.

But right now, he tasted undiluted rage and it tasted like acid with a bitter aftertaste of iron and copper, searing hot on his tongue and spreading through his body, turning it heavy and nauseatingly light at the same time.

“No, you’re ruining his life,” Carol emphasized, leaning onto the table and glaring murder at the girl. “If this is your idea of fighting for someone, it’s pretty twisted. You could have done literally anything to make him notice you, hell, pick you, but leave if he still said no, because that’s a sensible thing to do. But instead, you hurt someone he cared about. And that means you hurt him too – not to mention that his name is in there, possibly putting a scrap on his reputation. If you did love him, you’d want him to be happy.”

Steve gulped and looked away, unable to bear the weight of Carol’s words, feeling the jab on his own person. Because he was familiar with being accused of ruining someone’s life and future despite seemingly loving them. God knew that on a rainy day, he wondered about his own ‘love’ and its purity too – and now, it was fucking pouring and Steve had been forced to question everything he knew.

Was this little brunet Satan a godsend in fact? Was she supposed to tell him to stop lying to himself about not being your doom? Just what kind of a mess this stunt would have made had you been working a steady job and this got to your employer?

A gentle hand reached for his shoulder, a silent support, and Steve found himself torn between irritated, grateful and deeply ashamed.

No matter how much he hated it, he should be on the list to get punched for hurting you too.

“So, sorry to break it to you, but you don’t love him,” Carol continued and with Sam’s palm on his shoulder, Steve forced himself to watch the scene, the grand finale. “You’re just a little girl with attitude issues, a crush that got out of hand, and a ton of luck for knowing a guy willing to help you. Guess what – you just ran out of that luck.”

Heavy silence fell on the interrogation room and Steve’s eyes slid shut, hearing Carol and Yvonne’s parting words.

“And just so you know, she didn’t get the highest score. She got a B.”

Steve didn’t even know that and despite all the shit they were in, he felt a surge of pride for his g- hopefully still his girl.

At the same time, the fact that he learned it from Carol and not from you as he still couldn’t reach you, felt like a punch to his solar plexus.

Carol entered the monitoring room with a discontent expression on her face, wordlessly telling Steve and Sam that the conversation, no matter how harsh, wasn’t satisfying enough.

Still, Steve glanced at her and nodded with severity.

“Thank you, Carol,” he rasped, surprised by how hoarse his own voice sounded; for the burn of rage in his stomach and the tension in his muscles, he almost forgot about the lump gradually growing in his throat with each hour of silence from you.

“My damn pleasure,” Carol huffed with slight irritation, one clearly not aimed at Steve. She subtly raised her eyebrows. “I kinda want to punch her, but I guess I’m not the only one, huh?”

Steve sighed and closed his eyes, his hands almost shaking with the said need. Still, it was surprisingly relieving to be called out on that and to learn that he wasn’t the only one. And when he opened his eyes again, the look on Carol’s face told him that she wasn’t blaming him one bit.

“You have no fucking idea, I- Jesus, I never wanted to—to-- so much in my life.“

The rise of one corner of her lips was sympathetic. “We’ll handle this, Steve. I know it’s hard to hear, but you can’t really help us here. Go home. Rest.”

The lump in Steve’s throat grew nearly suffocating at the idea of going to the empty apartment, where his uselessness became even more evident. Steve eyed Sam, searching with hope for any sign of a better advice, but the counsellor only nodded to second Carol’s thought.

“Go home and try to call your girl. She’ll pick up eventually.”

At that time Steve had done exactly that – however, the result had remained identical to those with his previous attempts. You hadn’t picked up and he had left a voicemail and a pathetic text that somehow seemed to be reflecting all of his insecurities and doubts about your relationship and it hadn’t turned out at all as he had planned – and then it had been too late to take it back.

He had sent another and another, almost hour after hour and he was gradually realizing that he was forgoing all hope and his faith in what you two had and what it could become in the future; and god, did he want the future so badly.

But he couldn’t always get what he wanted, could he? He thought that a miracle had happened when he had first met you and later heard your yes to the date. But here you were.

Four days from that terrible incident.

Did Steve even believe that you two were supposed to be together? He didn’t even know anymore. Perhaps it was an intervention from some higher power and you two breaking apart was meant to be, saving you a heartbreak and disillusions which were about to come later.

He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought and the sensation that felt like a punch to his gut, his insides cramping.

That was not true. You two loved each other. You had found something truly amazing in each other and you were about to reach out to him any minute so you could continue to your brighter future together.

…right?

Except a minute passed by and nothing happened, the phone Steve was toying with remaining silent.

No received text or e-mail.

No incoming call.

Another minute and then another ten, the phone still spinning in his hand in almost a reflex at that point and still not lighting up.

The knot in Steve’s gut turned tighter and tighter, the tension in his shoulders and jaw growing, his mantra of you surely contacting him gradually falling silent.

Finally, he came to the decision that only fools kept doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result.

He was supposed to do that a long long time ago, the moment he had convinced himself that coming knocking on your dorm could be considered harassment… and would break his heart in case you’d shut the door to his face telling him you were done with him.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Steve swept through his contacts and dialled your best friend and roommate in one person.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Part 2

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Thank you for reading!

Let me know what you thought! I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ doing something with randomly timed shots to a series, so… you know. I’m a bit nervous. And I guess that this is very different from what this series was so far too, so I hope it’s okay. Thank you :-*

237 notes · View notes

berrynarrybanana · 3 years

Text

Deck the Halls pt. 2

A/N: Okay! Here is part two! I’m sorry I’m a little later than the evening, but I forgot that I had work tonight....anyways...here is part two. Harry is being a little cheesy and romantic in this one, and I love that about him because even though he’s a scrooge, he’s still baby for Holland. I hope that you all are enjoying this so far, and expect part three at any random point in the day tomorrow lol. Love you all!

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence, smut, fluff....other things i can’t remember at this moment?

Word Count: 9.7k

Holland’s POV

Holland stood there, staring at the dark blue paint on Harry’s door with wide eyes.

“He really has lost his true Christmas spirit, hasn’t he?” She whispered, shaking her head as her heart sank just a little in her chest. “Sugar sticks, this is going to be harder than I thought.”

She turned towards her own door, walking back inside of her flat with a sigh.

London had been her home for about ten hours now, and she was more than ecstatic to finally have her own place. It wasn’t the size of her home back in the North Pole, and it wasn’t nearly as grand, but it was hers and she loved it. Her Father showed her around London for most of the day, helping her settle in before he finally bid her farewell, and since he’d left her alone, she had been sitting on the couch in her flat, binge watching movies that she’d never seen before.

During a sappy movie about falling in love at Christmas, Holland felt a strong pull in the center of her chest. Her heart started beating rapidly, and her palms were sweaty. At some point, she slipped off of the couch before she started pacing in front of her door. Everything in her brain screamed at her to open the door, to poke her head out and see what could be in the hall.

So she did.

And there Harry was, walking down the hallway like he stepped right out of her dream.

Now that she had finally met him, she was worried that fixing his spirit would be a challenge that she couldn’t handle. She walked back into her flat with a dark cloud over her head, and a sad feeling in her chest. In her mind, their first meeting was magical and grand. She didn’t expect for it to be over in under ten minutes, and she definitely didn’t expect to faint when she first saw him. It made her cringe just thinking about it, her body hitting the ground after they met eyes.

She was in London to find him, for gingerbread sake.

She knew that she would obviously run into him at some point.

As she curled back under her blanket on her new couch, a Christmas film still playing on the television, she started to think about what happened to Harry’s true Christmas spirit. After reading the book that Morpheus gave her, she came up with a few odd theories on what might have caused his spirit to dim, but she didn’t have any solid proof.

All she really knew about the situation was that Jack Frost wanted to destroy Christmas, and he wanted to absorb the powerful magic that only two souls forged from the same star could grant him. It just so happened that Harry and Holly were both souls forged from the same star, and souls that contained true Christmas spirit. It was a double whammy that could give Jack Frost the power to destroy any other magical being, including Santa Claus himself.

She tried not to dwell on the negative parts of her journey to London, but the positive ones instead. Her soulmate was just across the hall from her, and though it would clearly take some time to warm him up to the idea of soulmates, he was still there. They were both safe when they were together, according to Erotes. His presence would cloak hers, protecting her from any outside forces, and her presence would bring light and joy into his heart.

It was all very exciting, having a soulmate that could protect her and love her (even if he wasn’t there quite yet.) and she was excited to learn everything she could about him. Morpheus and Erotes had a theory that the nightmares might cease with the souls being near each other, and Holland kept that in the front of her mind as she started to doze off on her couch.

But she still had a nightmare.

She had one worse than the last few that she’d had, actually.

This time, there was no mercy at the hands of Jack Frost.

This time, he knew that she was watching and taking notes. He made sure to pull her out of the ice by her hair, holding her up as she gasped out. He looked her in the eye, the chill that he sent through her body much colder than the water he held her under. Jack Frost looked her dead in the eyes before he looked back at Harry with a smirk. His lips pressed into hers next, kissing her with cold and slimy lips before he dunked her head back under the water. This time, she heard Harry screaming from the shore, his voice laced with agony as he called her name out.

Holland woke up to the sound of banging on her door, her name being called out.

She let out a shriek, her body falling off the couch in shock.

She recognized Harry’s voice, scrambling to her feet as quick as she could before she opened the door. He stood there, his chest heaving and his eyes dark as he looked at her with tear stained cheeks. Her heart shattered in her chest, her body relaxing when she realized he was safe and that he was standing right there in front of her. He let out a sigh, reaching up to brush his sleeve under his nose. She crossed her arms over her chest, anxiously shifting on her feet as he stared into her eyes for a few minutes in silence.

“You’re alright?” He asked her, licking over his bottom lip as she nodded. “Fuck me.”

“Excuse me?” She asked, her eyes growing wide. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, no.” Harry said quickly, his hands flying up in defense. “I didn’t mean it like that, Holland. I swear, it’s just an expression.”

She cleared her throat, pressing her lips together as she nodded slowly.

“Well, since you’re alright, I’m gonna go back to bed.” Harry said softly, gulping as he brushed his palms over the outside of his thighs. “Just do me a favor, and don’t go near any lakes.”

“Noted.” She whispered. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” he whispered, pulling her door shut.

“What in the candy canes is wrong with that boy?” She muttered falling back onto her couch with a heavy groan. “My soulmate is insane.”

❄️❄️❄️❄️

November 11 Holland’s POV

Holland didn’t see Harry for four days after their initial meeting.

She expected him to come banging on her door when the nightmares happened again, but she didn’t hear a peep out of him. She had to admit that they were pretty standard nightmares compared to the ones they had been sharing the last few nights. They were just run of the mill, ‘oops, Jack Frost got me again’ nightmares that she’d been having almost her entire life.

During the time that they spent apart, the night that they met continued to replay in her head. She couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d run across the hall in his pajamas just to bang on her door in the middle of the night to check on her. He looked so heartbroken, and distraught, that it almost broke her heart to see him that way. She realized then that she could feel his emotions just as strong as she felt her own. Their souls were one and the same, and they were both hurting. It made Holland want to wrap herself around him, but that was hard to do when he was never around.

She also could tell when he was home due to the warm feeling that flowed through her veins and the pull in her chest. That feeling was the reason that she knew he was never home, and she wondered if he was avoiding her because of it. So instead of sitting around and pining after him, she decided to hit the streets and explore the new city that she’d always dreamed of seeing as a little girl. There was on use in wasting her time here, waiting for Harry to come around.

He would come to her in his own time.

On her second day in London, she decided to bundle herself up before taking herself on a walk around the small village area that she lived in. It was filled with cobblestones and tiny shops preparing for the biggest (and best) holiday of the year. Everyone was slowly putting up decorations in their windows, covering the glass outside with fake frost. Holland absolutely adored it, even if it wasn’t the same as The North Pole. She loved the enthusiasm and the electric feeling in the air that only Christmas could inspire.

On the fourth day, she ventured just a little farther than her tiny village to the busier streets of London. She was lost in her head, watching the people rush by as they talked to themselves. It made her a little nervous when she saw cotton stuffed in their ears, and she wondered if maybe it was a cultural thing that she knew nothing of. She made a mental note to ask Harry about it the next time that she saw him.

“Grab a cup of Christmas cheer!” Holland turned her head at the sound of ringing bells that sounded like they belonged on Santa’s sleigh, and the word Christmas. “Come to Java Java for our signature holiday Peppermint Mocha!”

“Peppermint.” Holland’s lips spread into a smile as she turned around, moving in the crowd of people towards the shop. “I love peppermint.”

She was starting to understand why people talked to themselves, but it still seemed weird.

Holland walked towards the shop, smiling at the elf standing outside with a sign in her hand.

“Hello, kind elf.” Holland waved at her, causing the girl to give her a funny look. “What is a peppermint mocha, and how do I get one?”

“It’s coffee, and you just go inside-” The girl said, her brows raising. “-and pay for one.”

“Oh, that’s easy!” Holland exclaimed. “Thank you for your help! Merry Christmas.”

She reached for the door, pulling at the handle, but it didn’t budge.

“You push it.” The girl said, her voice trailing off. “The door is a push, not a pull lady.”

Holland’s cheeks grew warm as she pushed the door open, smiling over her shoulder at the girl.

When she walked into the cafe, she felt like she was back in the North Pole.

Java Java was adorable and Holland was ecstatic to see their decorations. There was tinsel draped over almost every surface, and little reindeer figurines on the counter tops. As she stood in line, she noticed a little girl looking up at her with wide eyes, a little doll in her hands that caught Holland’s attention. The doll looked a bit like her, with white blonde hair and a pretty blue dress.

Holland was almost confused by it.

“Hello there,” Holland crouched down, pointing at the doll. “What’s her name?”

“Elsa.” The little girl whispered, looking at the doll and then back at Holland. “Are you Elsa?”

“I’m sorry.” Holland glanced up at the sound of someone’s voice. “She’s absolutely obsessed with Frozen and...you do kind of look like Elsa.”

“That’s what I thought when I saw her doll.” Holly smiled at the girl's mother before looking back at the girl. “What does Elsa do?”

“She’s a princess.” The little girl spoke with a lisp due to her missing front teeth. “She can shoot ice from her hands.”

“That’s so cool!” Holland gasped in excitement. “And her dress is so pretty.”

“I want one just like it when I grow up.” The little girl smiled. “I want to be a princess.”

“Well, everyone can be a princess.” Holland said. “I’m a princess.”

“You are?” The girl’s eyes grew wide before she snapped her head up to look at her Mum. “Did you hear that Mummy? She’s a princess.”

“I heard, Maddy.” The mother chuckled, glancing at Holland. “Isn’t that amazing?”

“Can you make me a princess?” Maddy bounced on the balls of her feet. “I want to be a princess just like you and Elsa!”

“Oh, I’m afraid that I can’t make you a princess.” Holly said softly “Being a princess comes from within, Maddy.”

“Like from your tummy?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

“Like from your heart.” Holland giggled. “Do you have a kind heart?”

“I think so.” Maddy nodded. “I like to read to the ducks in the park, does that make me kind?”

“I think it might.” Holland nodded. “Being a princess also means that you must be brave, are you brave?”

“I fell off of my bike last week, and I didn’t even cry!” Maddy exclaimed turning back to her mother with a smile.

“That is quite brave.” Holland hummed, tapping her finger against her chin as if she was deep in thought. “Well, I guess that makes you a princess, Maddy.”

“Mummy, I’m a princess!” Maddy cheered out. “Just like Elsa!”

Holland stood up, looking at the Mother as she smiled at her daughter.

“That was really kind of you.” The lady said. “She probably won’t stop talking about it for the rest of her life.”

“I’m glad it made her day just a little brighter.” Holland chuckled, stuffing her hands in her pocket. “She’s a very lovely little girl. You’re doing a wonderful job with her.”

The woman’s face softened, her eyes filling with tears.

“Thank you.” She said. “I don’t mean to cry, it’s just that...things have been hard since her father passed away.”

“Oh my.” Holland said. “I’m so sorry.”

“She truly is a brave little girl.” The mother wiped under her eyes, sniffling. “She’s been keeping me afloat during this entire thing, and I just...you making her smile has been the best thing that’s happened to us all year.”

Holland’s heart squeezed in her chest, and before she knew it, she was wrapping the woman in a hug.

“Everything will work out just fine.” Holland whispered. “You’re going to be alright.”

“Thank you.” She hugged Holland back.

Holland continued talking to Maddy and her mother while they stood in line, and after a little bit of back and forth, she even paid for their drinks and a special treat. She waved them both off when they left the shop, playfully curtsying in honor of Princess Maddy. When Holland went to order her own drink, the girl behind the counter stared back at her with wide eyes.

“You really do look like Elsa.” She said. “Are you into cosplay?”

“I don’t know what that is.” Holland laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I don’t really know who Elsa is.”

“She’s a cartoon character in a movie.” The girl explained with a chuckle. “It’s called Frozen.”

“I should watch that.” Holland made a mental note. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, it’s Sarah.” The girl pointed to her name tag. “I forgot to ask what you would like, I’m sorry.”

“That’s quite alright!” Holland said. “I would like four of your peppermint mocha drinks and as many of your sugar cookies as I can buy.”

“Oh, okay.” Sarah typed at the screen, nodding her head. “Are you going to drink all of those by yourself?”

“No, I thought that I would pass them out to strangers to brighten their day.” Holland said, pulling the card that her father gifted her from her pocket before handing it over to a chuckling Sarah.

“That’s funny.” Sarah said, handing the card back.

“Why?” Holland’s brows pulled together.

“Oh, you were serious.” Sarah said, her face turning to shock. “It’s not a bad thing, I just thought you were being sarcastic.”

“I don’t know what that means.” Holland said softly, her cheeks growing warm.

It was starting to become a pain, not knowing things.

“It just means that you’re trying to be silly by saying something that you don’t really mean, but like you mean it….if that makes any sense?” Sarah said.

“Oh that makes perfect sense.” Holland said it as if she meant it, but she didn’t.

“Really?” Sarah asked.

“No, I was actually trying out the sarcastic thing.” Holland giggled. “Did it work?”

“It did.” Sarah tossed her head back with a loud chuckle. “You’re really funny, um-”

“It’s Holly.” She said.

“Holly.” Sarah nodded. “I think you’re great.”

“Thanks, I think you’re pretty cool too!” Holland smiled. “I’m sure I’ll see you again if I like this peppermint mocha thing. I really love sugar and sweets.”

“We’ve got plenty here.” Sarah said. “Have a great day, Holly.”

“You too, Sarah!”

When Holland had a tray full of coffee in one hand and a bag full of sugar cookies in the other, she set off in search of something. There was a warm pull in her chest, one that told her Harry was close by. She followed her instinct, turning down several alleyways and small side streets until she found herself standing in front of a black door with chipped paint.

There was an equally worn sign hanging above the door that read Paradise Records. She did her best to open the door with a full tray of coffee, still upset that no one wanted to take any of the drinks she offered them. Everytime she stopped a stranger, they turned their nose up in disgust before walking off with a sour look on their faces.

Holland, however, had downed her entire drink.

She was honestly considering taking another one for herself, if no one else would drink it. It was sweet, and filled with notes of chocolate and peppermint. It was like heaven in a tiny paper cup, and she made a mental note to insist that her father make them a staple at his bakery when she finally made it back home to the North Pole. As Holland walked into the shop, she caught sight of a boy with dirty blonde hair writing something down in a journal. There was another boy with long, dark brown hair sitting on a stool behind the counter with a guitar.

What she didn’t expect to see as she walked up to the counter, was Harry.

He walked through a beaded curtain, his eyes trained on a sheet of paper and his brows furrowed.

“Harry!” Holland chirped out, sitting the tray of drinks and cookies down on the counter. “Oh my garland!”

All three boys turned their attention towards Holland, but she was only looking at Harry.

“What-” Harry muttered. “How?”

“I don’t know, I just...I was walking and here I am!” She smiled, clapping her mitten covered hands together. “I went to this bakery because I heard someone talking about peppermint mocha, and I love peppermint. So I got one for me, and then I got more for other people, but everyone just looked at me funny when I tried to hand them out. And I met this little girl and I helped her become a princess, and then I learned that I look like Elsa-”

“Holland!” Harry said her name, causing her to take a deep breath. “Breathe.”

“Holland, baby, breathe!”

The memory of Harry calling her baby while he tried to bring her back to life sent a shock wave of ice water over her body. She stared back at him, her breathing a little heavier as his brows furrowed. He almost seemed worried, as if Holland was going to talk the air out of her lungs.

“I thought I was bad with coffee.” The boy with short brown hair snorted out a laugh, reaching for a cup. “I’ll drink your peppermint mocha, love.”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Holland said, her eyes still locked on Harry. “Um, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He cleared his throat, dropping his paper to the counter. “Have you never had coffee?”

“No.” She said. “What is it?”

“Magical little beans that give a lot of energy.” The boy said, taking a sip from the paper cup with a hum. “This is so good. Where did you get this?”

“Java Java.” Holland turned towards the boy with a small smile. “There was a really lovely lady named Sarah there that made them for me.”

“Mitch!” The boy smiled, looking over at the boy with long hair as he stopped playing guitar. “Did you hear that? Sarah made these.”

“Shut up, Niall.” Mitch grumbled.

“Do you know Sarah?” Holland turned towards Mitch as her smile grew. “I love Sarah, she’s such a wonderful person.”

“She’s cool.” He nodded, offering Holland a small smile.

“Mitchell has a crush on Sarah.” Niall snickered, glancing at Mitch.

“Oh!” Holland chirped, looking between both boys. “Having a crush is a lot of fun, isn’t it! I have one on Harry.”

“Okay!” Harry interrupted, dropping the papers to the countertop. “I’m getting my coat and walking you home, I think you’ve had enough excitement for the day.”

“Harry’s got a girlfriend.” Niall sang out, but his voice was cut off as Harry landed a smack to the back of his head.

Holland pressed her mitten covered hands to her lips, watching with wide eyes.

“That’s for sleeping with my sister.” Harry said. “And for teasing.”

“Oh, c’mon.” Niall groaned out, looking over at Mitch as he smirked.

“He said you would get it when you least expected it.” Mitch shrugged, going back to playing his guitar. “You deserved that one.”

“Is having a crush on Harry a bad thing?” Holland asked. “Why did he hit Niall?”

“Because Niall is dating Harry’s sister.” Mitch said. “And Niall and Harry are best friends.”

“My brother is dating my best friend.” Holland said. “Pippa and Nick are very happy together! That’s not a bad thing, is it?”

“No, it’s not, but Niall is an arse.” Harry’s voice made Holland’s heart rate pick up. “Let’s go.”

“It was lovely to meet you!” Holland waved at Mitch and Niall. “I’ll see you again soon!”

“Oh, definitely.” Niall chuckled. “Goodbye!”

❄️❄️❄️❄️

Harry’s POV

Harry guided Holland out of the shop with his hand hovering over her lower back.

He made a mental note to never give her coffee ever again. He had never seen anyone talk so fast before in his life, and he knew Niall, for fuck’s sake. When they made it into the cold, London air, Holland curled in on herself. Harry felt a jolt of panic rush through his bones, reminders of her cold body lying on ice flashing before his eyes. He couldn’t explain the itch he got in his arms, but the urge to hold her close was almost unbearable. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side.

“Is this alright?” He asked her, his cheeks burning up as she smiled at him. “You look cold so I thought-”

“Yeah, it’s nice.” She said. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your friends, Harry.”

“You didn’t.” He said quickly. “But they don’t know about you, or my dreams.”

He felt horrible for keeping things from them, but he couldn’t tell them about her.

They would think he was certifiable, especially now that she was real.

“I didn’t tell my friends, either.” Holland said softly. “I thought they would be afraid of me if I told them.”

Harry’s eyes snapped towards hers, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“I don’t think anyone could be afraid of you, Holland.” He chuckled, tightening his arm around her waist as a crowd of people rushed by them. “You’re like Bambi.”

“Okay, first I was Elsa, and now I’m Bambi!” She tossed her hands in the air, causing Harry to laugh at the adorable expression on her face. “I don’t know what any of that means...well, I know now that Elsa is a princess who has ice in her hands.”

“Something like that.” Harry laughed softly. “And Bambi is a baby deer who has a lot of trouble walking.”

“I walk perfectly fine.” Holland frowned at Harry, her lips pouting out in a way that made him want to fall to his knees. “Well, except for when I skip to my death on a frozen lake.”

“That was too soon.” Harry shook his head, his fingers grasping at her coat protectively as his expression shifted. “That’s not funny, Holland.”

“Gumdrop, you need to smile more.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I’m starting to think that might be the reason you lost your Christmas spirit.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, his blood running colder than the wind whipping around them.

His arm slipped from around her waist slowly.

“What did you say?” He watched Holland turn to stand in front of him, her eyes wide and her lips pressed together.

“Your Christmas spirit? It’s kind of in danger.” She said softly, glancing down at her feet. “And it’s my job to fix it.”

Christmas spirit.

There were thousands of questions running through his mind.

But shamefully, his first reaction was harsh defense to get her to back off.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He let out a bitter laugh, brushing his fingers through his hair, fluffing up the curly strands. “You can’t fix me, I’m not bloody broken just because I don’t like Christmas.”

“I’m not trying to fix you, Harry.” She said. “Your soul is just a little lost and I’m just here to help restore it.”

“That’s basically the same thing as fixing me.” He snapped, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “If that’s what you’re really here for, you can go back to wherever you came from, because you can’t make it better.”

“I can try.” She said. “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t expect you to tell me, but I can try to make things better.”

“I don’t need your pity.” He snarled. “I don’t need anyone.”

“Well, I need you.” She said quickly, her hands reaching out for him. “I need you in my life, Harry.”

“I can’t save you.” He shook his head. “I’ve been trying to save you for sixteen years, Holland, and I can’t do it.”

“That’s just a nightmare.” She said. “When it happens in real life, you’ll save me because you have to.”

“I can’t.” He whispered as she moved closer to him. “I can’t just watch you die, Holland.”

“You won’t.” She tentatively slipped her arms around his abdomen, the familiar scent catching Harry’s attention as she rested her cheek against his chest. “We’re going to figure this out, I promise.”

Harry melted in her arms, sliding his own around her body as he pressed his nose into the soft material of her bright red coat. He inhaled sharply, the scent of berries and clove soothing his senses. He couldn't be upset with her, no matter how hard he tried. So he gave in as her fingers toyed with the ends of his long curls, and her breath warming up his neck.

He needed her too.

And he couldn’t explain it, but his heart ached for her.

“How?” He whispered against her shoulder before lifting his head up to look down at her. “How can we figure this out?”

“I’m working on it.” She gave him a smile that was meant to be reassuring, but he could see through her facade. “I’m doing everything I can to fix this, Harry, but I need you to let me in just a little. I can’t do this without you.”

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, nodding.

“That’s going to be hard.” He said. “I don’t let anyone in.”

“Well, I promise to treat your soul and your heart kindly.” She said. “Seeing you down makes me feel down, Harry. I would never hurt you, ever.”

“I’ve already hurt you, haven’t I?” He said softly, lifting a hand to brush a few strands of hair from her face. “I’ve hurt your feelings.”

“You just…” She licked over her bottom lip, and Harry bit back a groan at the sight of her candy pink tongue. “You can be a bit...well, like Scrooge sometimes.”

“Ow.” Harry said, a smile pulling at his lips as Holland tried to hold back her own. “That hurt my feelings.”

Her face fell, and Harry’s eyes grew wide.

“No, Holland, I didn’t mean that seriously.” He said. “I was just-”

“Being sarcastic.” She exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “Sarah taught me about that today.”

“Did she?” Harry chuckled. “Sarah is really lovely.”

“She is.” Holland nodded, her eyes glancing up towards the sky as she thought aloud. “And I think she’s gonna marry Mitch.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide, his arms tightening around Holland’s waist in shock.

“Excuse me?” Harry asked, his heart beating faster. “What?”

“I don’t know, after I saw Mitch, I just kept picturing Sarah in this lovely white dress with flowers in her hair.” Holly looked back at Harry. “What?”

“Are you a psychic or something?” He asked softly. “Like, can you see the future? Is that why we keep having those dreams? And why is it me that’s meant to save you? Why did you chose me, I don’t-”

“Harry.” Holland lifted her hand, brushing her fingers over his cheek. “Breathe, gumdrop.”

Breathe.

He inhaled sharply before letting out a long exhale.

“I have a lot of questions.” He shook his head, biting at the inside of his cheek. “Do you...would you like to talk about it with me over dinner?”

Holland raised her brows, pressing her lips together as Harry tried not to squirm.

“Are you asking me out on a date, gumdrop?” She sang softly, swaying on her feet as Harry dropped his head back, groaning.

“If I was, would you say yes?” He glanced at her, tilting his head forward slightly.

“Yes.” She said. “I said I have a crush on you, what makes you think that I would say no?”

Harry tried to fight off the smile creeping up on his lips.

“You’re really cute.” He said softly. “And I hate that you make me feel like a fucking kid, but I also really like it. I haven’t been this...reckless in a really long time.”

“Well, I’m yours for-” Holland snapped her mouth shut, shaking her head. “We’ll save that for dinner, yeah?”

“Whatever you say.” He chuckled, brushing his palms over her back. “Let’s get you home, okay? It’s cold out here and I don’t want you freezing to death.”

Harry blinked rapidly after he spoke, the weight of his words sinking in as Holland let out a loud laugh. She tilted her head back, slapping her mitten covered palm over her mouth as Harry inhaled through his nose, his lips smashing together as he nodded.

“Let’s just forget that I said that.” Harry cleared his throat awkwardly as Holland laughed loudly. “C’mon, Bambi.”

❄️❄️❄️❄️

Holland’s POV

Holland spent three hours looking for something to wear to dinner with Harry.

They weren’t actually going anywhere, but she still wanted to look nice for him.

Before Harry left Holland on her doorstep, they made a plan to get pizza (because Harry learned that Holland had never had pizza before) and talk. They didn’t put any pressure on the evening by going into detail on what they would talk about, but she could tell that Harry was having an internal battle as he said goodbye to her. He brushed his knuckles over her cheek before he took off down the hallway of their complex, his head ducked down and his hands in his pockets. Holland smiled the entire time she watched him walk away, her heart fluttering.

She spent most of her afternoon dancing around and singing to herself. It was the first time in her life that she would be just a normal girl, not Santa’s daughter or a Christmas Princess. She would just be Holland, a girl living in London, eating pizza with her soulmate. She couldn’t wait to learn more about Harry and his life, and her mind was reeling with questions to ask him.

Holland decided to wear a blush colored sweater with little pearls stitched into the fabric, and a pair of light wash jeans. She put on some fuzzy socks so that her toes wouldn’t get cold, and she tossed her hair up so that it would stay out of the way while she was eating pizza. She wasn’t sure what eating pizza entailed, or what it was, but she didn’t want her hair getting in the way. When her hair was up, she tried out the new lip product that a lady sold to her a few days ago when she was in Harrods. She let out a soft ooh when she swiped it over her lips, smiling.

When she was done with the lipstick, a series of knocks pulled her attention from the mirror in her bathroom. Harry was home, and she could feel it in her chest.

When she opened the door, Harry stood there with his hands in his coat pockets, and a sympathetic smile on his lips. Holland raised her brows when she saw Niall and Mitch behind Harry, both standing there with smug smirks on their own lips.

“So, I know that we were supposed to have pizza tonight.” Harry cleared his throat. “But I forgot that it was Wednesday, and that I had plans with these two idiots tonight.”

“Hey, I am not an idiot.” Mitch pushed Harry’s shoulder with a scowl. “Niall might be, but I’m not.”

“Hey!” Niall glared at Mitch. “That was rude.”

Holland tried not to laugh, rolling her lips in as Harry closed his eyes and let out a sigh.

She could sense his frustration by more than the look on his face.

“It’s okay, Harry.” Holland smiled at him, shrugging her shoulders. “We can do pizza tomorrow.”

“Yeah, we can.” He opened his eyes, nodding. “But I also wanted to ask if you would like to join us? My sister will be there, and so will Sarah.”

“Sarah!” Holland smiled wider. “Let me get my shoes!”

“You might have some competition, mate.” Niall chuckled, but he quickly stopped when Harry shot a glare over his shoulder to Niall. “I’m starting to think she has a crush on Sarah too.”

“Oh, Sarah is very pretty, but I only like Harry.” Holland moved aside, opening her arms out as Harry smirked back at her. “Come on in while I get my shoes on.”

When all three boys entered her apartment, they stopped in their tracks.

“It’s a winter wonderland in here.” Niall cheered out as he rushed towards the small table by her sliding glass door that led to the balcony. “Look at this little Christmas village.”

“Oh my god.” Harry whispered, his eyes growing wide as he took it all in. “Fuck me.”

Mitch slapped a hand down on Harry’s shoulder.

“You okay?” He asked softly. “I know Christmas isn’t your favorite-”

“I’m fine.” Harry said, turning back to Mitch. “I don’t know why, but...it doesn’t bother me.”

“It’s because you’re in love.” Mitch squeezed his shoulder. “Welcome to ‘Pining over girls that are way too good for miserable sods like us anonymous’. We have complimentary tequila and tissues at the door.”

Holland tried not to hug Harry after she heard him say that her decorations weren’t a bother.

Instead, she walked back to her bedroom in search of shoes and a coat.

She pulled a long, tan coat from her closet before she dropped it on her bed. As she bent over, looking for shoes in the bottom of her closet, she heard someone clear their throat behind her.

“Knock, knock.”

Holland lifted her head up, turning around to see Harry leaning against her doorway with his arms crossed and a smile on his lips.

“Hi.” She had one boot in her hand, her hair a little mussed up from the clothes that brushed over it. “Hi.”

“You said that already.” Harry chuckled, pushing himself off of the doorway before walking towards her. “You okay?”

“Just a little…” She paused, trying to find the word. “You’re pretty, and it’s distracting sometimes, that’s all.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, his cheeks turning pink as Holland smiled.

“You just say whatever pops into your pretty little head, don’t you?” He mumbled, watching her with curious eyes as she nodded.

“Why wouldn’t I?” She asked. “Keeping things to yourself is no fun, and I really enjoy when your face looks like a surprised frog.”

“Excuse me?” He parted his lips, staring back at her as she laughed. “You know, I was coming back here to apologize for the whole pizza thing, but I’m not doing that now.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” She rolled her eyes, pressing a palm against her wall as she tried to wriggle her foot into a boot. “It’s been a really weird week for both of us, and I can’t blame you for being a little forgetful.”

“I was really looking forward to us finally talking about this whole thing.” He cleared his throat, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets as Holland reached for another shoe. “I just want to figure out how to keep that man from hurting you, Holland. I think if he did hurt you, it might kill me, and I don’t understand why I feel that way about you when I hardly know you.”

She couldn’t tell him that it would kill him if she died, not yet at least.

“Let’s not think about it tonight.” She grunted, sliding her left foot into her boot before she zipped it up. “Let’s just have fun! Show me what it’s like having fun in London.”

“Do you really want that?” Harry asked. “You want the proper London welcome?”

“The whole shebang.” Holland nodded, sliding her coat onto her arms before she stopped in front of him with a bright smile. “I want you to show me what you do for fun, gumdrop.”

“Alright.” Harry smiled back at her, brushing his thumb softly over her chin before bumping his forefinger under it as she giggled. “Let’s get this show on the road, Bambi.”

Harry’s POV

“Here you are.” Niall placed a glass of red wine in front of Holland before handing Harry the beer that Holland insisted he get. “And for you, H.”

It was a gingerbread stout, the liquid dark as it sloshed in the glass.

Harry only ordered it because Holland wanted to know what it tasted like. She claimed that he smelled like gingerbread and she wanted to have a sip of the stout to see if it would remind her of him. He knew that he probably wouldn’t drink it anyways, even if Holland didn’t want it. He was more concerned about his sister meeting Holland, and getting Holland back home safely.

He lifted his glass to his lips, taking a small sip as Holland watched him like a hawk. It definitely tasted like gingerbread, and it almost made Harry tense up in his seat at the memories it brought back to his mind. But Holland pressed her hand to Harry’s arm, and it calmed him down almost immediately. Her curious eyes distracted him as he put the glass down.

“Does it taste like cookies?” She asked him, batting her lashes as she leaned down to sniff at it, causing her nose to scrunch up. “It doesn’t smell like cookies.”

“Have a sip.” Harry handed her the glass, watching her eyeball it as if it were going to jump out and bite her. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

“Alright.” She whispered, pressing the glass to her lips before she sipped.

When she pulled it away, she narrowed her eyes in a comical manner before lifting it to her lips again for another sip.

“I do like it.” She said.

“Do you want that one instead of yours?” Harry asked. “I don’t mind switching.”

“I haven’t tasted mine yet.” Holland set the stout down on the table, reaching for the glass of red wine that she picked for its name. Holland Oaks Mulled Christmas Wine. “I wonder if it tastes like berries.”

I wonder if your lips taste like berries.

Harry shook the thought from his head, watching Holland take a sip of the red liquid before she pulled it away with a sour look on her face. He tried not to laugh as she reached for the stout, taking a large sip to drown out the taste of the wine on her tongue. Harry covered his mouth with his fingers, holding in a laugh as Holland shook her head, a small shiver causing her shoulders to roll.

“I don’t like that one.” She muttered, shaking her head. “They should take my name off of it.”

“Hmmm, I’ll see what I can do about that, love.” Harry took the wine glass, taking a sip as Holland moved the stout in front of her. He took a swig, shrugging his shoulders before he sat the glass down. “I think it’s nice. It kind of reminds me of your perfume.”

“Oh, I don’t wear perfume.” Holland said. “It’s my aura.”

“What?” Harry blinked back at Holland as she nodded. “Your aura?”

“Yeah, it’s berry and cloves.” She smiled. “I think I like this one because it’s your aura. You always smell like warm gingerbread and spice.”

Harry held his breath, tilting his head as he tried to find the words to say.

“We’ll save that for the pizza talk.” Holland patted his shoulder gently. “I’ll explain it later.”

“Please.” He nodded, reaching for his wine to take another sip.

He put it down immediately, remembering her words.

Berry and cloves.

“Slap me on the ass and call me Sally, is my brother drinking wine?” Harry groaned when he felt Gemma ruffle his hair. “Hiya, doll.”

“You’re an asshole.” Harry grumbled, swatting her hand away. “Hi.”

“Sarah!” Holland exclaimed, causing Harry to turn his head towards her as she straightened out her spine.

“Holly.” Sarah looked just as surprised and excited to see Holland. “I didn’t know you knew Mitch and everyone.”

Mitch and everyone.

Harry tried not to smirk at that, but he made sure to nudge Mitch’s calf under the table.

“Yeah, Harry is my neighbor.” Holland smiled back at Harry before accepting Sarah’s hug. “I loved that peppermint mocha drink you made me today, but Harry says I shouldn't have anymore.”

“Oh, did he?” Gemma took her coat off, draping it over her chair before she sat down next to Niall with raised brows. “Why is that, Harry?”

“She’s worse than Niall.” Harry defended, pointing towards the Irish lad. “Nearly talked until she passed out earlier, it was crazy.”

Gemma rolled her eyes, leaning over to kiss Niall.

“I don’t want to see that.” Harry slapped his hands over his eyes in a childlike manner causing Holland to giggle. “That’s gross.”

When he peeked between his fingers, Gemma looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“What?” He lowered his hands, looking behind him. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head, clearing her throat before she turned her attention towards Holland. “So, I’m Gemma.”

“That’s such a beautiful name.” Holland said. “It’s very nice to meet you, Gemma. My name is Holland, but you can just call me Holly.”

“It’s a pleasure meeting you, too, Holly.” Gemma gave her a soft smile before lifting her menu up. “So, what are we eating today, lads.”

Harry watched Holland look down at the menu in front of her, her brows furrowing as she read over the items listed. He leaned closer, sliding his arm over the back of her chair to look with her. He felt her lean in closer, settling into his side ever so slightly as she hummed.

“What do you like to eat?” He asked her, brushing his fingers over her bicep. “Do you have a special diet or anything?”

“No.” She shook her head, glancing at him before looking back at the menu. “I really only like to eat sugar.”

“With the energy you have,I’m not shocked by that.” He chuckled. “Do you want me to help you find something?”

“I’m sure she can order her own food, Harry.” Gemma piped up. “Give her some breathing room, why don’t you?”

“Oh, I have plenty of breathing room!” Holland was so naive and innocent at times that it made Harry just want to wrap her in a blanket and hide her away. “And Harry smells nice, so I don’t mind.”

He felt his cheeks grow hot at her words, his fingers pressing into her bicep as he glared at Gemma. She sat with a smirk on her lips, glancing back at her menu as Niall cackled.

“So-” Harry cleared his throat. “Chips are a must.”

“Okay, so let’s get some.” She said. “What are they?”

“Fried potatoes.” He said. “We’ll dip ‘em in ketchup.”

“And malt vinegar.” Gemma said.

“No malt vinegar, it’s gross.” Harry scrunched up his nose as Holland looked over at Gemma.

“It’s the proper way to eat chips, Harry.” Gemma sang under her breath.

“Then let’s try it with that.” Holland had a soft pout on her lips, the pink lipstick she smeared over her beautiful berry lips almost gone. He couldn’t wait for it to disappear so that he could see the natural red shade that sent his heart soaring. “I want to do it right.”

“Malt vinegar on the side, then.” He said. “Do you like fish?”

“I’ve never eaten a fish.” She said. “Is it good?”

“Yeah, it’s good.” He assured her. “Maybe we’ll do fish and chips?”

“You don’t have to order the same dish as me, Harry.” Holland said. “You can order whatever you want, I’ll be fine.”

“Well, there’s also cottage pie-” Harry started, but Holland’s soft gasp cut him off. “What?”

“I can have pie for dinner?” Her eyes grew wide, causing Harry to chuckle. “I want that.”

“Well, it’s not like regular pie.” He said. “It’s got meat and-”

“But it’s pie.” She smiled. “For dinner.”

“Okay, pie for dinner it is.” He said. “I’ll order the fish and chips just in case.“

❄️❄️❄️❄️

Holland ended up eating Harry’s fish and chips.

He wanted the cottage pie anyways, so it worked out.

When she took her first bite of the pie, she looked utterly disgusted and betrayed. He tried to warn her that it wasn’t like dessert pie, but he was almost glad that she didn’t like it. The little scrunch to her nose and the shake of her head had him chuckling. He took the dish, passing his fish and chips over to her before pressing a subtle kiss to her temple. He hoped that no one else saw him do it, but when he looked up Mitch was smirking at him from the other side of the table.

“Holland.” Harry whispered her name. “Do you know what the world's largest island is?”

“Greenland.” She said it out loud, slapping her hand over her mouth when everyone shushed her. “Sorry.”

“I’m sure the pricks behind us stole the answer to that question too.” Niall grumbled. “Cheaters.”

They were winning trivia at least.

It was all thanks to Holland and her magical brain.

For someone who knew so little about the modern world, she knew a lot about history and geography. Harry carried most of the music questions alongside Mitch, Gemma carried the math questions, and Niall and Sarah carried pop culture. It was the perfect team, and they were kicking ass. Harry was proud of Holland, and he made sure to bump his knee to hers subtly whenever she gave him an answer. If it was a correct answer, he would squeeze her knee.

He checked in with her often, asking if it was okay for him to touch her in that way. He almost died when she gave him a shy smile before telling him that she liked it a lot. He couldn’t keep his hands away from her then, always finding some part of her to touch respectively.

Harry handed the last sheet in to Hank, the guy who ran the trivia scene, before he dropped his hand to Holland’s thigh. She rested her head on his shoulder, covering her mouth as she yawned. Harry decided then that it was probably time for them to go home. They had a lot going on, and it was starting to take a toll on him as well. He was glad that Holland had the chance to let go for the night, sipping at her gingerbread stout while she laughed with her new friends.

Something inside of Harry clicked when Gemma and Holland shared a knowing look before laughing, as if they already had inside jokes. It dawned on him that he needed her in his life just as much as she needed him, and he wasn’t about to let some slimy iceman drown the girl that he was falling in love with. Harry supposed that his touches weren’t only to show Holland his affection, but they were also a byproduct of his protective nature that was clawing its way into the front of his mind.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Harry squeezed her thigh, turning to kiss the top of her head. “Get your coat on, love.”

“Gumdrop, you’re having fun with your friends.” Holland lifted her head, pouting at him. “I’m okay, you can keep playing.”

“Don’t you dare leave us now.” Niall said. “We’re actually winning for once, mate! Don’t take our brainiac away from us.”

“We’re tired.” Harry rolled his eyes at Niall, tossing a note onto the table. “We’re gonna go to bed at a decent hour, unlike some of you heathens.”

“Oi, I’ll be tucked in bed before ten!” Gemma said.

“Really?” Niall looked at Gemma with a frown. “But, it’s Wednesday.”

“Holland, darling, are you ready to go?” Harry tried to change the topic, unsure that he wanted to know about Wednesday’s with Niall in his sister’s household.

“Yeah, I'm ready.” Holland draped her scarf over her neck, smiling at everyone as Harry moved beside her. “It was really nice to see you all again, I had so much fun.”

“Harry, I need Holland’s phone number.” Gemma said. “Send it over to me.”

“No.” Harry said plainly. “Goodnight, I love you all. Be good!”

Harry guided Holland out of the pub, sliding his arm around her waist as she leaned into him.

They didn’t talk much on the walk back, merely holding onto each other as they stumbled towards their building. Harry let Holland wrap herself around him in the lift, her head pressed to his chest as it moved slowly from floor to floor. He made sure to rub his palms over her back just how she liked, his heart swelling when she let out soft little hums.

“I feel warm and fuzzy.” She whispered.

“Is it because of me or the alcohol?”

“I think it’s both.” She lifted her head with a soft giggle, looking up at Harry. “I think I like alcohol.”

“Wait until you have your first hangover, you’ll change your mind.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Let’s get you tucked into bed, you look drained.”

“I feel drained.” She yawned, pulling away from Harry before she stumbled into the hallway.

Harry chuckled as he watched Holland stumble up to her door.

She turned around to look at him with a pout after she unlocked the door, pushing it open.

“Well, I guess this is it.” She whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow for pizza?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, smiling as she scrunched her nose up. “What?”

“Nothing, I just…” She sighed. “I think I might miss you tonight, that’s all.”

Harry’s heart was beating so loud that he could hear it in his ears.

“I’ll miss you too.” He lifted a hand, brushing his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “But you need some rest.”

“So do you.” She whispered, giving him a soft smile. “And you know where I am if you need me.”

“I do.” His head moved closer to hers, and he watched her breath hitch in her throat. “Do you want me to kiss you, Holland?”

“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate, giving him a soft nod. “Kiss me, please.”

It was a quick peck at first, but it sent sparks shooting in the night sky.

Holland’s eyes slipped shut as she grabbed Harry’s sides, pulling him closer to her body as he chuckled against her lips. She caught him off guard with another kiss, her tender lips moving over his so passionately that he thought he might fall in love with kissing her right then and there. He didn’t waste time, cupping both of her cheeks as he let his tongue swipe over her bottom lip. She parted her lips for him, allowing his tongue to massage over her own.

Berries and clove.

That was all he could taste, all he could smell.

“Fuck.” He pulled back, gasping softly as Holland whimpered. “Holland, we should slow down. We’re both exhausted and I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to...we should just slow down.”

“Okay.” She nodded, clearly still breathless. “I um...goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight.” He pressed his forehead to hers, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

❄️❄️❄️❄️

Holland’s POV

“No.” Harry held Holland’s hands tight in his own, holding her back as her body started to move towards the ice. “No, Holland. Stay with me.”

“I have to go.” She whispered. “You know that I have to.”

“I can’t watch you die.” He pulled her closer, pressing his forehead to her own. “Baby, I can’t let you go.”

“But you can.” She gave him a soft smile. “You know that it’s the only way.”

When Jack Frost pulled her under, Holland didn’t fight.

She was tired of fighting it, tired of trying to survive when she knew that she was doomed.

She just wanted it all to be over so that she could sleep peacefully.

Holland woke up with a gasp, sitting up straight in bed in a daze.

It took her a second to realize that someone was knocking, but when she did realize it, she nearly tripped over her duvet on her way out of bed. She rushed to her front door, flinging it open without hesitation. Harry plowed into her, wrapping his arms around her as tears sprung to her eyes. She clenched them shut, swinging her door closed as Harry sobbed into her hair.

“Why didn’t you fight?” He croaked out. “You didn’t try this time, Holland.”

“I was just so tired.” She brushed her palm over his back, tucking her nose against his shoulder as she tried to soothe him. “I’ve had a long day. I didn’t have the energy to fight him, gumdrop.”

“Please don’t ever do that again.” He pulled away, grasping her face before he pressed a series of damp kisses over her cheeks. “Please, promise that you’ll always fight him, baby. Don’t let him win like that.”

Holland lifted her hands, brushing her thumbs over the outside of his wrists as she curled her fingers around his forearms.

“I love it when you call me baby.” She confessed, looking into Harry’s eyes as he tried to catch his breath. “It’s alright, gumdrop, just breathe.”

They stood there for a few minutes, Holland rubbing soothing circles over Harry’s wrist as he stared into her eyes. It didn’t take long for him to calm down with her in eyesight. Holland noticed his chest slowing down, no more haggard breaths ripping from his nose as he tried to hold back tears. When he was done crying, she wiped at his cheeks with her fingers before she brushed his hair over his shoulder. Holland brushed her palm over his t-shirt covered chest before she grabbed one of his hands in her own with a soft smile.

“C’mon.” She said softly, reaching for her flat key hanging on the key hook by her door.

She pulled Harry behind her, despite the heaviness in her limbs threatening to drag her down to the floor. She locked up her flat before turning towards Harry’s, not at all shocked when she saw the door wide open. She walked into his flat, familiar with the floorplan that was nearly identical to her own. Harry followed behind her without a word, his fingers holding onto her for dear life.

“What are we doing?” Harry’s voice was raspy and rough as Holland pushed into his bedroom, walking him straight towards his side of the bed. “Holland?”

“I’m sleeping with you tonight.” She whispered, turning back to him with a soft smile. “Get comfy, okay?”

“Do you think it will help?” He asked, climbing onto his side of the bed as Holland walked around to the other side. “It’s never helped me before, sleeping with other people.”

Holland had to admit that hurt just a little.

“Um, it should.” She said. “I read about it in a book, actually. I think it will keep us both from dreaming.”

She did read it in a book, but it wasn’t one that Harry could get his hands on. It was a book that Morpheus gave her, and it touched on the topic of soulmates. Holland read about shared dreams between soulmates, and how nightmares could stop if they slept near each other. The closer the souls were, the less likely they were to have nightmares. Holland hoped for both of their sakes that it was true. She just needed a peaceful night’s sleep to regain her strength.

“Who is that man?” Harry rested his head on his pillow as Holland slipped her legs under the duvet. “Why is he doing this to us?”

“Do you promise not to laugh at me if I tell you who he is?” Holland settled her head on the pillow next to Harry’s, letting out a sigh as she turned on her side.

“I promise.” Harry turned on his side, his knees knocking into hers.

“It’s Jack Frost.” She said. “And he’s trying to take our power.”

“What power?” He asked. “Why does Jack Frost need power?”

“Harry, let’s save it for tomorrow, okay?” She leaned forward, kissing his forehead before she fell against her own pillow. “I’m so tired.”

“Tomorrow.” He lifted his hand, brushing a few strands of hair from her face as her eyes slowly slipped shut.

#harry styles fic #deck the halls #harry styles christmas fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #my writing #harry styles imagine

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catxsnow · 4 years

Text

CHALLENGE PT. TWO G.L.

Requests: hi i just read ur gar x reader and i'm literally weak it was so cute omg. is it to early to beg for a part 2 with fluff and jason being a little jealous bitch lollll it can be shorter idk how many ideas u have i just love the way u wrote gar -xoxo!

for part 2 to challenge u could have gar and y/n in different domestic scenarios being cute n in love and jason trying to break them up bc he's jealous and can't understand why their dating since they're both so different but in the end realising they're both perfect for each other and they all live happily ever after the end.

Warning: Jason being jealousssss

A/N: Part two to Challenge! I’m terrible at multiple part imagines but I hope I did this good enough justice!

Word Count: 3.1k

Part One

Jason Todd didn't understand.

He didn't get how someone like you would ever end up with someone like Gar. Not that he believed Gar to be a bad person or anything, but the two of you were so different. You were confident, outgoing, and never could say no to a fun time. Gar on the other hand, was way more shy than you were, he was hesitant to get out of his comfort zone, and he was the biggest nerd.

The two of you were just polar opposites. So, when you got together, he was more than shocked to see how well you got along. He had known about your friendship, but never realized how close it was. He found himself getting irritated every time he saw the two of you together.

The first time that he was annoyed by your dating was when you were making dinner in the kitchen together. Even though you cooked for the whole team, the process seemed like such a private time with Gar. He would sit at the counter watching your every move until you had asked him to do something for you.

The moment that he was done with the task, he would stand behind you with his hands around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. He would reach his neck around as far as he could to kiss your lips. In anyone else eyes, the action would have been adorable. In Jason's, it was disgusting.

He had walked in while Gar was leaning against the counter, chatting with you and looking at you as if you were the utter love of his life. Jason didn't say anything, but the flush in his cheeks spoke loud enough: he was jealous.

Jason had lost the challenge, but he wasn't ready to give up quite yet.

The second time Jason was irritated was when he was sparring against you. It wasn't unusual for the two of you to fight against one another, but this time he had just been frustrated with you. Gar was going against Dick just on the other side of the room and the two of you would constantly be exchanging looks.

Between fights, whenever you had the upper hand, any time that you weren't losing you were throwing winks or kisses towards your boyfriend. Jason was furious. This was supposed to be a serious training session and you were just goofing off. You were never serious anymore since you started dating Gar.

When he finally had enough of it, he had stormed off after yelling at you. Though your feelings weren't hurt, Dick still ran after him to go scold him. That left you and Gar in the training room.

"You gonna release the beast this time?"

"In your dreams," Gar rolled his eyes. He still refused to fight against you as the tiger. Dating you had made him even more protective of you and that meant that he wasn't going to do anything that would purposefully harm you.

"Oh baby, you know it." Gar's face lit up bright red. He was still getting used to your confidence and your ever lasting need to try and get him to blush. Almost every time, it worked. He was a constant flustered mess around you and you loved it.

"Stop," Gar whined. You raised your fists up and jumped around the mat. He followed your lead and the two of you circled each other, antsy on who was going to make the first move. If he was to be honest, it was always you, and he didn't mind that.

"Make me," you winked.

By the the fifth time that Jason had been annoyed that the two of you were dating, he had completely lost it. He was out for the night, causing whatever chaos in the town. By the time that he got back home, he was nothing but disappointed and disgusted.

You and Gar had decided to have a stay at home date night which included movies, popcorn, and far too much laughter. Dating Gar might have been the best choice that you had ever made in your life.

You were happier than you had been in years. No longer having to keep your feelings hidden brought a weight off your chest and you felt as if you could breathe once more. Not that you wanted to curse it, but things were going perfect.

Gar opened up to you more than he ever had before. He trusted you with his secrets and you trusted him with yours. The friendship that you guys had was taken to a whole new level. You couldn't even think about what life would be like without him - even it was only a couple weeks since you had been officially started dating.

When it came down to it, he was your best friend first, and losing him without the addition of a relationship would have broken you. Now, you felt as if a literal piece of you would go missing if he left.

"(Y/N)," Gar dragged out your name. You were sprawled across the couch with a bowl of popcorn by your side. Everyone else was out that night which meant that you and Gar had the whole place to yourselves. You decided to take advantage of the big screen and have a much needed, relaxing, movie night. "You're taking up the whole couch."

"I know," You smirked at him. The popcorn was moved out of the way and you opened your arms up for Gar to lay beside you. He grinned and nearly leaped into the space. Gar covered your face in kisses before landing on your lips for a quick peck. You were completely encased by him and the blanket.

This was the first time that you had the tower all to yourselves and you had to admit that you were a little more than excited. Your mind wandered to everything that the two of you could be doing and you weren't sure where you wanted to start. Gar had decided for the both of you with a movie night.

He picked some sort of comedy movie that was sure to be filled with cringe-worthy jokes and raunchy humor - exactly what the two of you needed. After the rest of the team figured out that you two were dating - which didn't didn't long - they had endlessly teased you for it. Rachel bugged you with every chance she got, Dick lectured you as if you were still kids, and Jason... he was a little frustrated at the situation.

Gar knew about Jason's feelings towards you, but he also knew that you were nothing but a conquest for him. He didn't want to date you - he wanted to sleep with you. That wasn't who you were, and Gar knew it. As much as he was worried about Jason taking you from him, he knew that he trusted your more than anyone.

Throughout the movie, Gar couldn't keep his hands off of you. The rested on your waist, played with your hair, intertwined with your fingers, and once he even dared to try and tickle you. You never realized how much of a touchy person he really was until dating him. You didn't mind - not when it came to him.

Even when you got up to go get another drink for yourself, he followed behind you with is arms around your waist making it much harder to walk anywhere. Gar had gotten you, and he wasn't planning on letting you go anytime soon.

Just before the movie ended, Jason had come back to the tower. Neither of you had heard him come in until he loudly groaned at the sight of you. You were still wrapped up with Gar, not even paying attention to the movie as you left kisses up his neck. It distracted him enough from both the movie and Jason.

"Seriously guys? Get a fucking room," Jason complained. Gar had nearly fell off the couch in surprise and you couldn't help but giggle. PDA was something that never bothered you, at least not nearly as much as it bothered Gar.

"Sorry, Jay," you apologized. "Movie's almost over. You can stick around for another one if you want."

"Hard pass," Jason rolled his eyes. "I'll watch a movie with you another night though." You could tell from the tone in his voice that he meant you, and only you. Jason never had a particular problem with Gar until the second you two started dating. It was more evident than ever that he didn't like the younger man.

"Yeah, maybe another time," you partially brushed him off. His smile held hope that what you said was true. Jason gave you a little wink before heading back to his own room. "He's impossible."

"Tell me about it," Gar rolled his eyes. He pecked your lips once more and was caught off by a yawn. You giggled a little at him - the sound of it lit up his face. Gar was absolutely entranced by every sound and movement you made. "Do you wanna stay over in my room tonight?"

"No offense Gar, but last time I stayed in your room I was up half the night sneezing from your tiger hair," you tried to hold back a laugh. "However, you are more than welcome - if not encouraged - to stay in my room tonight."

"It's not my fault I shed!" Gar laughed with you. "I guess I'm going to have to take you up on that offer." He leaned down to peck you - but you had kept him close and deepened the kiss. Your hands ran through his green hair and enticed a quiet moan as you tugged on the roots.

"Guys! Seriously!" Jason yelled. He had come back to the kitchen to get a glass of water only to see the two of you making out on the couch. That was his breaking point. He could deal with the hand holding, the hugs, even the pecks. But seeing the two of you make out on the couch where he sat, too? That was far past his limits.

Jason scowled at the two of you. His eyes darted between you and the mess of Gar's hair that you made. He was not impressed - that was easy to tell.

"I'm tired of seeing you two together! It's non-fucking stop," Jason expressed himself. You knew he had been upset at you and Gar for getting together, but you didn't think that he was holding this much back. "Grow the fuck up, there's other people living here too this isn't just your home. You don't see me having girls hanging off my arm everywhere do you? No. Stop being so, so gross!"

Jason stormed off leaving the two of you to sit there in shock. Jason was jealous of your relationship with Gar. He always had a crush on you - you knew that from the start. However, seeing the two of you together being a cute couple? You didn't realize how badly this could hurt his feelings.

As much of an asshole that Jason was, he didn't deserve for you and Gar to rub your relationship in his face. And it wasn't like you meant to. Everything with Gar just flowed so easily, you barely even noticed that you were shoving your relationship down everyone's throats. However, the other's didn't see it that way, only Jason.

"I feel bad," you muttered. Gar rested his back against the couch as you snuggled into his side.

"Why?"

"Jason's always been nice to me, I don't want to stop being friends with him just because we're dating," you explained yourself. Gar squeezed your shoulder and kissed the top of your head. He didn't realize he could care for you even more since the short few weeks that you two had been dating.

Gar wanted you to have the world. He always wanted that for you. It seemed that every day his only task was to make you smile at least once. Whether it was him being his usual nerdy self, or surprising you with something he found in the store. He always managed to make you happy, and he wanted to keep you that way.

If that meant that he would have to deal with you and Jason being friends, then so be it. Even if he was jealous as soon as the older man walked into the room, he trusted you. There was a reason that you choose him over Jason.

"You know Jason. He gets frustrated and he over reacts, I'm sure he'll cool down soon."

It took a while for Jason to cool down afterwards, but he eventually did.

It seemed like he spent the next couple weeks trying to sabotage your relationship. Going extra hard on you at training, taking away your time with Gar to help him with something, even getting one of you to do some stupid mundane task for him to split you apart.

He was trying his best to prove that he was right, you two didn't belong together. Yet, it seemed like after every pursuit he had, it seemed to only bring you closer together. You and Gar were the opposite of what Jason believed you to be - you were perfect together. While you brought out more confidence within Gar, he kept you grounded.

The two of you may have been polar opposites, but that didn't mean that you were any less good for each other. Jason had to learn that the hard way - and he did. It took him a while to see that you two were truly meant to be together. Even after all of his frustrated comments and actions, he realized that he was wrong.

Which was why after shamefully telling you that Gar wasn't good enough for someone like you, he had finally broke. Jason had seen the heartbroken look on Gar's face when he walked in just at the wrong time and the rage filled look on yours. He had known he messed up the second the words came out of his mouth.

That night you had spent the night with Gar wrapped around your arms and his head on your chest, telling him repeatedly that there was no one else that you would rather be with than him. He felt like Jason was right - he wasn't good enough for someone like you. Gar couldn't be more wrong.

"Gar, don't listen to him. You said yourself, Jason's jealous, he's gonna say stupid shit that he doesn't mean," you assured. Your fingers ran through his hair in hopes to comfort him. "Beside's what's it matter what he thinks? It's me 'n you right? That's all that matters."

"Still doesn't mean I don't feel shitty," Gar grumbled. He buried his head into the blanket covering you both and sighed.

"You want me to go beat him up?" You asked, only half joking. Gar just let out a grunt in response. You hoped that the comment would have made him feel better. "I know what's gonna make you believe me that what Jason said was bull," you suddenly came up with.

Gar peaked his head out from the blanket just enough to stare up at you. He knew the look on your face and that it meant that you were up to no good. There were many things running through your mind as to how you could prove this to him - many of them ideas where you knew you'd need to lock your door - but this one in particular was nothing like that.

You ripped the blanket off of you and headed over to your dresser. Gar watched as you rummaged through to find whatever it was that you wanted. His gaze went from your bare legs all the way up your body - followed by a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

Rain pattered against your window and filled the silence in the room. Finally, you pulled out a small CD case which contained a singular disk. Gar looked at you with raised eyebrows, but you said nothing as you went to the old player in the corner of your room and popped it in.

A grin fell on your cheeks as the music began. You spun around to face Gar and stuck your hand out for him to grab. "Dance with me?" You asked. Gar matched your smile and accepted your hold. "This is the playlist from my parent's wedding... Haven't been able to listen to it in a long time but I figured if there's anyone I would want to listen to it with, it's you."

Your hand was encased in his, the other on his shoulder while his was on your hip. The two of you slowly paced around your room. Your head rested against his chest and you couldn't help but sway a little to the beat. This was perfect, these were the moment that you would forever cherish with Gar.

As the song neared ending, your looked up to meet his eyes. They were glassy, but held no sadness within them. You let go of his hand and placed both of your palms against his cheeks. Gar leaned into your touch. You cranked your chin up to meet his lips.

This kiss had been different than the rest of them. This was slow, each second filled with every ounce of adoration you had for this boy. You wanted him to know that he had no reason to fear for Jason, it was him that you wanted. Gar was everything to you, and upon realizing that in only a matter of weeks? It had to mean that this was going to be permanent.

You pulled away from the kiss. Gar was grateful for you. You knew how to cheer him up even when he didn't realize that he needed it. You knew him better than he thought, and that was what his weakness was. You were his weakness.

"Believe me now? Garfield Logan?" You asked.

"I think I'm going to need another kiss, just to be sure."

"I think I can manage that."

#gar logan #garfield logan #gar logan imagine #gar logan one shot #gar logan x reader #dc titans #titans #titans imagine #titans one shot #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #fluff #angst #jason todd being a dick

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spookysmujer · 4 years

Text

His Girl pt.2 // Sad Eyes

Summary: Your relationship with Sad Eyes is now known but Spooky loves to mess with his little sister. A sweet and sultry end 🍒

warnings: mild swearing, s m u t 🥵 18+

word count: 2.4k

A/N: twice in one day, who is she? LOL a follow-up to His Girl. Spooky finding out about his little sister and right hand man being a thing! Who else has protective siblings? I hope to see more people write for Sad Eyes, such a stud muffin and we need more gifs. My next fic includes 🧊+ 🎰 with Spooky. Let’s just say what happens there? Stays there.

When you were in 8th grade and Spooky a freshmen, it gave you a little freedom, finally. It meant that you didn’t have to sneak around the hallways to wave to that boy you liked. But Spooky being Spooky had figured it out soon enough. Just as he had figured out now about you and Sad Eyes.

“Snitches get stitches!”

Is what you said that night you found your brother and lover standing outside of your window before shutting it. You all but hoped that he would be a little understanding and give you shit for brief moment but that wasn’t the case. He gave you shit, shit like you were a teenager again.

“What made you think I wouldn’t find out?” Oscar asks you as you sit in silence during breakfast. Cesar has kept his head down the whole time.

You play with the food on your plate, ignoring the comments your big brother has been making since you woke up. This must be hell I’m in? You ponder.

“Didn’t seem to have a clue for the last 3 months..” You say under your breath, Oscar stares at you with a scowl.

When one of his homies mentioned that the summer had been going hard with all these rucas outta high school, someone commented how Sad Eyes was going soft and claimed a ruca before getting a real taste of summer vibes. When asked who, someone slipped ‘your sister’. Sad Eyes never felt holes burned so deep into his skull. When Spooky asked, he had no words. There was rage of course, but if anyone were to date his little sister, who better than is right hand.

But of course, being Spooky, he couldn’t resist giving you shit. Especially for hiding it from him.

“Hm.. well I hope you enjoyed it. No más.” He lights a cigarette, you look to him finally. Your mouth agape, “You heard me.”

“What... I-I’m not a kid!” You slam your hand on the table and he furrows your brows, telling you to calm down,” No, I won’t calm down! I get that you think me dating a Santo isn’t safe but you are my brother for fucksake. Everyone knows it!”

He laughs to himself at your outrage. Oscar continues to eat, you want to flip the table. The Diaz temper present in all 3 of you.

You push yourself away from the table and stomp out of the kitchen and into the your room, slamming the door.

You scroll through your contacts and call him, desperately hoping your brother hadn’t murdered him himself or send the other Santos on him. Despite a few attempts to get in contact, to no avail. Oscar is going to get it, he wants to give you hell? You were gonna give him hell.

It didn’t take long for Oscar to bring home a hyna. You sat in the living room one night when he enters with her.

“Hm, jumping back in the game quick?” You comment, sipping on a coffee. He glances at you briefly, as he pulls the girl through the house. He stops and sees Jasmine in the kitchen, she waves and the hyna gags. Egg salad.

“Um, maybe I’ll call you.” She pulls her hand back and exits the house. You are dying of laughter, the silent kind of laughter. Head tipped back and tears falling.

Oscar gives Jasmine a look and then turns to stand in front of me, “You serious?”

“Oscar, 1. Y/N, 1, bitch. You gonna learn real quick who ran this shit while you were gone. You fuck with my dick intake and I fuck with you hyna intake. Goodnight, mano.” You push past him to join Jas in the kitchen.

Your brother seethes in anger. If you two were in high school, he’d do as he use to and pull your ponytail to fight you on the ground. You have the scars to prove all the physical fights you got in.

☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹☻☹

You and Oscar were petty with each other like old times. He couldn’t help it but he has bigger fish to fry now so he green light to Sad Eyes.

“Com’n, we’re going to pool.” Oscar tells you as you lay in your room, you roll your eyes but agree to because of the heat wave that rolled in.

You get changed and head to the pool with your two brothers.

It’s a nice day at the pool, perfect for tanning. You lay on your back, sunnies on.

“Hola mami.”

You hear a familiar voice, peer over your glasses and rest on your elbows, you see a shirtless Sad Eyes standing in front of you. He set his things down beside you nodding to your brother. Your brows furrow.

“Puto!”

Sad Eyes grabs his shoulder that you hit and laughs. He knew that meant that you understood exactly what that head nod meant. No phone call or texts, Oscar reminding you for the past couple days who runs the ship now, all the shit you’ve been given!

“You think you two are soooo funny, hm?” You can hear Oscar laughing in the pool. “Puto I fucking swear.”

Sad Eyes laughs a little more before kissing yourcheek, “Lo siento, mi amor. I had a couple runs I needed to do and he thought it would funny to just mess around with you. He gave me some hard shit for keeping us on the DL. But all in all he thinks it’s better than dating some pendejo.”

You roll your eyes, flipping over onto your stomach. His eyes go to your ass, sharply inhaling air. He missed his mujer.

“Too bad because it seems I am dating one.” You turn your head away. “You realize because you think this is so funny that you get it twice as bad, right? So your 3 days times 2... 6. 6 days you’ll spend being ignored by me. And my kitty and my mouth.”

He laughs at you pettiness. You hear the sunscreen bottle cap and turn to see him rubbing the lotion on his tan skin. The devil in you is forcing you to watch. You can’t look away.

“Need more?” He asks you. You shrug and move your hair over your shoulder. Sad Eyes takes some in hand and rubs them together. His hands smear the lotion on your backside, massaging it into you skin. Oh man, you haven’t felt his hands on you in days.

No! Don’t fall for this!

It’s when his hands move over your ass that you jump. He lets out a breathy laugh and massages for a second before removing his hands.

“Brave.” You comment.

“Yearning.” He slaps your ass and you squeal, looking towards the pool to see Oscar distracted.

After needing to ask God to control your body before jumping his bones right there, you and your brothers head home and get things going for the weekly Santo gathering.

“So he really doesn’t care?” You ask Sad Eyes as he sits against the headboard of your bed, smoking a blunt. He nods as he watches you get dressed.

“The black one.” He says as you look between two blouses. You hold it against your chest and licks his lips. “Hm.”

You set it down and untie your robe, letting it fall from your shoulders. You can hear the moment Sad Eyes loses his breath. Your black lace thong and matching bra clinging to you body so perfectly. He feel himself strain against his shorts.

“New set, like it?” You turn and let him see your ass. His eyes does all the speaking. “Too bad we got this party tonight.”

He stalks over to you as you stand in front of your body mirror. Towering behind you, he steps extra close to you, “I don’t know, mami. Heard that shit is going to be lame.”

You restrain your grin as he pulls your back against his chest, hands on your hip. Your push your ass into groin area and he groans into your ear. His breath hitting your neck as you watch him loosen him.

“Hmm, I don’t know. My mans pissed me off and I wanna show him what he missing.”

“Fuck him.” He pushes his hands down your thighs, using his knee to hit your legs apart. You feel a tingle hit your core immediately.

Sad Eyes steps back and pulls his shirt off and sits on your bed. You give up, once that damn shirt is off there is no resistance. You walk over to him and straddle his lap, feeling his broad shoulders and pushing him down. He watches you with complete lust in his eyes. Those 3 days away from his bebe has been torture.

“You really pissed me off you know, not giving me a heads up about your run. I thought my brother literally killed you.” You push his hands up from where they were resting and hold them above his head. He bites his bottom lip as your boobs hover over his face.

“Forgive me, mami. Lemme make it up to you.”

He lifts his head to plant kisses on your chest, licking your cleavage and earning an involuntary moan from you. He smirks at this and takes the opportunity to overpower you and flip you two over. He sits on his knees and kisses your torso, slowly. Inching down closer and closer to where you want him most. You watch as he does so, his eyes locked on yours.

Your hips can’t help but squirm, yearning for friction. The man is a complete tease and loves to see you whine for his touch. His breath hits against your inner thighs followed by longing kisses.

“Stop teasing,” You close your legs to trap his head which makes you smirk. He pulls your panties down and tosses them over his shoulder. He listens to you and dives right in. His tongue hot in pursuit on your clit.

The moment he makes contact, your back arches off the bed. You grab a pillow and hold it over your face to suppress the moan that you have no control over coming out. Sad Eyes pushes your legs up at the base of your ass to have nice view and space to put in work. His tongue is lathering your sensitive bud as well as teasing your entrance.

You moan and move, feeling the sensation build. God, how could you have stayed mad at him? He makes you come undone with his mouth, his touch, his body and even a just look most of the time. He set off new things you never felt, physically and emotionally. Though you two never formally spoke of being together nor did he openly claim you, you didn’t see end to being with him.

“Mhmmm,” He hums, sending vibrations through your core and nearly having you cross eyed.

You push yourself on your elbows to watch him. Eyes locked and nothing but sin staring back at you, “Fuck me already.” He licks one last swipe and comes up to kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue. His hand finds your hips to tell you move up. He taps your ass for you to move on your knees. Face down, ass up his favorite way to have you.

He pulls your ass to press against him. You can feel his erection and how bad he is about to give it to you, “Please, papi.” A hiss escapes you as he lands a smack on your ass. Then another. You finally feel his fingers spreading your arousal to prepare you for him. He soon replaces his fingers with his cock. For a minute, he pushes himself through your folds to get him slicked up too. This alone is enough to send you into oblivion.

You are growing impatient but before you can speak up he slides himself deep into you to the hilt. His impressive size stretching you, a burn starts but pleasure continues. You both groan as he stays in place to get you comfortable. Sad Eyes has you in his control and you are not complaining.

“So warm, all mine. Hm? Tell me.”

You gasp when he pulls your hair back as your skins slap together, “I-I’m yours, only yours, Papi.” He pulls your hair harder to get you to sit up. Your back is pressed against his chest, still getting pounded. He still has his grip on your hair, your cheek pressed against his. Sad Eyes grabs your face to turn you to look at him, his mouth covers yours and you kiss roughly. Tongues fighting for dominance.

The sensation that has been building up is nearing a release. Your moans sound in the room without your control as if he has a control on how your body reacts. Thankful for the music blasting outside and inside your room to muffle the sounds of you both slowly coming undone.

“Oh shiiiit, fuck.” He releases the grip on your hair and lets you fall forward, gripping your hips now and he is pounding into you relentlessly. He pulls out and strokes himself before pushing back into. He does so a few times before he started to pound you again. The pace picked up meant that he is close to release too. You’d be lying to say you were both about to cum together but you ride out your orgasm for him to reach his.

He reaches under you to rub your clit to help intensify your orgasm. And nearly instantly, your body convulses. The pleasure exploding inside you. You are gasping and releasing inhumane sounds from the bliss your body is feeling.

“Fuck.” He says as he pulls out just in time for his seed to spurt on your ass.

Fuck a workout, all you need is this. You’re trying to catch your breath as he gets off the bed and reaches for towel hanging to wipe the mess from you as you still lay with your ass in the air.

“I can’t move, help.” You laugh and he helps you. He pulls you flush against him, your orgasm has your legs weak. Kissing you while feeling your heated body.

“I’ll never get use to this, you know. Not just the fucking you senseless. Just being with you.” He holds your face in his hands. His eyes glint with adoration.

You blush and look away before puckering your lips for another kiss. He complies, “Mmm, good. I don’t wanna get use to it. I wanna have long days and nights with you. For a while.”

He smiles and nods in agreement, “Mi mujer.”

#oscar diaz #sad eyes x reader #sad eyes #on my block #on my block imagine #oscar diaz imagine #cesar diaz #oscar diaz x reader

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blankdblank · 3 years

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It’s A Mother Flocking Puffin Pt 24

Special Credit to @c-s-stars for again loaning me her OC Mal for this storyline involving the Princes. :) Some more attention for the trio in this one.

“Would it be better for me to payoff my Yuula’s scholarship as her title and lineage has been announced now?” The Emperor asked King Thror on his way back from his trip to stroll through the gardens while you napped.

Thror shook his head, “No. I do understand your concern, you have the funds and her rank is quite stunning, however in our culture even our young nobles are granted the chance to make their own marks. For our kin she has taken an admirable path to her education.”

Niro nodded, “In fact the news was discussing that the other day. Her grades alone were impressive she merely required some aid on the funding. Starting a business and growing sturdier in her studies and our culture have nestled her into the hearts of our people.”

Thror added, “Were there some sort of dilemma on that aspect we would inform you immediately.”

Emperor Winge sighed saying, “I just feel like there is something more I could do.”

Both the great grandparents chuckled saying together, “That feeling never wanes with age.”

Two days and the shift of the bed stirred the kitten lying across your back that stretched and rolled over accidentally off your back right into the hand that settled him back on your back. Thorin back from his wedding job eased into the bed gently guiding you to lay against his side using his shoulder now as a pillow dropping into a deep sleep content that at least with the late night flight he could arrive here and join you for a long night’s rest once again. Frerin, Dwalin and Balin along for the ride also we’re glad to be home again and to have him so glad to be back where usually he might be the one to try and play along with Frerin’s urge to explore as long as possible before returning to the same routines back at the Palace. Now Frerin’s rebellion swapped for watching his big brother melt more and more into a puddle for the adorable new sister of his.

Just sharing your receiving the stuffed bunnies was enough to stop him from scowling for at least a little while until the next marker and task was made and marked as a sort of goal to get to for him to earn more smiles and hugs from you. A posted picture of you asleep against his side to the credits of a film had the world seemingly changing gears on how your relationship was viewed and those pictures from the first market trip you made to now came up and were scrutinized for an allover stunning relationship for the nobles. Openly holding hands and pictured doing so on top of cuddling to and from Iron Hills began to melt the public even more.

Yet nothing exploded quite like a makeshift couple’s card to join the other clan cards from the Palace to announce the coming break to be joined by the other holiday cards sent to the public. You on a walk in the palace glowing gardens casting the outline of you in neon lights coming from the foliage around you. Tucked in your palms was Sir Burglar with Bagheera nestled on your shoulder and Thorin behind you. Arms draped around your middle smirking through the stolen kiss to your cheek that triggered the stunning smile across your lips, that once it appeared on the news show all the Durins in the film room watching the premier and reactions turned their heads to the boys now ducking behind the pillows they were holding. Squeals, literal squeals and elated shrieks came from the news anchors and crew who took the unique image apart inch by inch for how absolutely loving and affectionate it revealed you both to be.

Rivaling the cuddling pictures Vili and Dis had given from their own wedding ceremony including a pillow fight battle picture when the boys were nearly knew high of their palace apartment coated in feathers. The nobles in their generation were growing more personable and less rigid. And now in what would have been the hardest union to understand for the public between Elf and Dwarf lines, First Borns at that, proved to be just like any other pairing of Ones warming up to a future together to bear the troubles ahead with trust and love between you. The picture while being stunning also granted the jeweler experts a chance to get a better in focus image of those rings you were wearing to try and guess their meanings by everything from metals to cut and clarity.

Overall the public ruled its preference that much like Dis and Vili’s picture with them in the kitchen and the one for Dwalin, Balin, Bella and their Billi, the latter being shown the ducks by the fountain on the grounds, casual candid snapshots where the family seemed to be oblivious of the camera were absolutely adored. Even King Thror and Queen Niro were captured by the fire in their nightly reading and crossword book session cuddled together in a loveseat with matching slippers that even they had to adore the moment the boys captured of them. The coming week would be tough for their clan and people to understand the changes coming but these have a sense of hope that everyone could get through it together and share more moments and new beginnings when this holiday had passed.

Practically shaking inside one of the many Baggins smials in the Shire behind his loving wife Clover readying the tea leaves Ganir came up behind her smoothing his hands down her arms from her shoulders. “My precious Ukrad, surely this is safe. Malachite has been given word from the Crown Princess herself that none will harm her.”

Clover retorted, “That isn’t what you said yesterday, and now I’ve cracked two of my tart crusts, which I never so much as dented before. And all my doilies are being properly cleaned by Lobelia, who won’t have them back by next week at the latest. Now we are entertaining royalty and I have no doilies!”

“I know I was concerned, but that was before Malachite shared her talk with the Crown Princess. I never imagined the minor burn could count as the one to break the curse, yet all this time she has been kindly treated by the Durins. Surely it is as Her Young Majesty has stated, Mahal would never call for a child to be sacrificed, Durin’s animal guide has found her for companionship, surely there is some deeper knowledge of the roots of our inner living stone.”

She sighed and said, “She was meant to get a degree, not two husbands.”

“Well this is only the courtship talks. In some instances it could take years for an affection to form to stir a courtship. We complete the talks for a possible courtship and then she is allowed to wear her bond markers and they can keep a friendship until a relationship is agreed upon between the three of them.”

She sighed again, “She’s not allowed to get married until after her degree, four years after her degree, so she can be through her residency.”

“That can be added to the terms, admirable terms, they are all young. Surely the Durins will agree to granting their boys more time as well. Malachite shared she knows little of the boys beyond time the Crown Princess is with the three of them together, that is a sign that there is ample time for a later courtship and union.”

There was a knock at the door and she gasped turning for the oven, “The rolls aren’t buttered yet!”

His grin spread and he hummed, “I will fetch it, my precious Ukrad.”

To the door he went opening it to find an aid there with head bowing to the burly fiery haired Dwarf with braided beard and hair in a long ponytail that shifted in his returned head bob, “Ganir and Clover Baggins residence?”

“Yes,”

He grinned, “Good, just have to double check, there are several Baggins’ dwellings, had to be certain. Just a moment.” Turning to give the signal to the Driver that let Regent Crown Prince Thrain and Regent Queen Diaa out for the stroll to the door and inside. Pleasantries were traded and into the sitting room chairs they all settled around the tea table loaded with ample treats and goodies.

Thrain spoke first to break the silence, “First off I believe we should start here, our Crown Princess Under the Mountain Jaqi has guaranteed the safety of your daughter Mal, or are you preferring Malachite.”

Clover answered, “She prefers Mal outside of our family home.”

Thrain nodded, “Of course, Mal has been guaranteed safety and even without that, no matter the circumstances between our clans we would never harm your child. It has been marked by Jaqi that Mal was burned by Smaug and was returned to your cousin Bilbo’s home. That Mahal would never wish for our kin to a child under any circumstances no matter the totems given. Any other person and we may not put weight to such claims, however, and we pray you do not boast on this fact it is quite precious and new to our clan.” The parents nodded uncertain of what they might hear, “There is a pathway, Olórë Mallë, a pathway that through dreams Vanyar are able to travel to Valinor, a pathway through which after her injury was able to travel to the Halls of Mahal.”

That parted their lips, “And she has been able to travel there since her childhood, growing quite close to the Valar Tulkas and his family among other Valar. It is rather hard for her to discern how to tell the difference between most of them, however she knows their core beings and truly we entrust that it is time to look past this curse to find peace for our pebbles.”

Diaa stated, “Which is why we have come rather than our daughter Dis and her husband Vili, they have just had triplets and are refraining from travel. We do hope our place here is tolerable for the initial trading of terms.”

Clover nodded, “Yes, we understand, pebbles must come first.”

Thrain, “Are there any terms you are wishing to add up front?”

Ganir stole a glance at his wife with a grin then said, “We were hoping to offer a suggestion that were a relationship to form that any marriage would not be allowed until at least four years after graduation for our girl, so that she might complete her residency by then.”

Diaa nodded saying, “Oh that is very admirable a term,”

Thrain, “Yes, we have heard through our daughter that they have had little interaction save for when Jaqi is there.”

Diaa, “I am curious, you are not close to your line Ganir, does that mean you would wish to hold an entirely Hobbit ceremony on her side?”

Ganir, “That would be preferable, yes.”

Diaa smiled, “That would be perfect then, as we both are familiar with those ceremonies through our own clans and for any Dwarf traditions you might miss we could always split our clan to join yours to grant you place in celebrating that joy fully in binding with our clan.”

Ganir nodded, “That would be, a very generous notion. Mal would be grateful to have shared in that side of her lineage rituals.”

Through that all 77 of the Dwarf required topics were at least touched on alongside the required Hobbit 48 to finish off the parental portion of the courtship contract period. Amongst them were several points that were marked as to be conceded to the bairns, as tradition as they mainly were fit to their preference over the parents. Any other topic was able to be contested by said bairns upon a later date in their own session of reviewing all the Dwarf and Hobbit requirements upon agreeing to trying out a relationship. But for now should they wish to they would be allowed to trade bonding markers and tap one another’s marks for the second time. To at least allow the bond to settle in their daily lives inside their parental agreed upon season of consideration for a relationship to test if they might one day be romantic or remain platonically bound for their lives.

Upon the return of Thrain and Diaa to their Palace however in the Blue Mountains word to Mal, Fili and Kili had them each reflecting over their copies of the lists of traditions and terms that had been laid out in the parental terms that would be inked up and signed properly by the weekend for official records. The trio at least while the Durins in Erebor got a chance to review the terms they had all conferenced upon since hearing the boys’ marks had lit up they felt the deal was settled on a decent footing and understanding between both clans. And once they felt comfortable they could discuss possibly trading bond markers still with the comfort that they had time to decide upon relationship status at a later date.

It was Friday by the time anyone could blink and the six day break was coming closer by the hour to begin once classes were through. Everyone knew how big this was, the Crown Princess was to be traveling Saturday morning to meet her birth relatives and the tension was palpable. Though while that grew one dilemma was able to be mastered for the time being and the young Princes were off to see to it now. Target locked and spotted across the courtyard Mal sat triple checking her notes and they had to hurry before she would take off again. Smiling widely in the thankfully empty courtyard they came to a stop from their sprint over. Both sliding onto the bench across from her with arms settling onto the table. “Good Morning.”

Forcing out a grin to their joint hello she replied, “Good Morning, Majesties.” Nodding her head to the duo.

“Fili and Kili.” They said together and Fili said, “We were thinking,”

Kili, “Hoping rather,”

Fili, “That you might wish to solidify our bond sooner rather than later.”

That parted her lips, “But, we haven’t even considered terms of renegotiations for our courtship contracts yet.”

Kili, “We will, merely, you see, the week ahead will be difficult and all of us could use some stability.”

Fili, “We are suggesting to simply make the bond so we might be able to shake hands at least. The contract talks would go entirely as scheduled as long as it takes for you to feel comfortable.”

Kili nodded, “Yes, no pushing for anything past friendship now. Just think, the sooner we trade bracelets the sooner we can reflect fully upon the future.”

Fili, “Yes, how better to plan out the rest of our lives than through a winter of snow fights and fort building with tons of cocoa?”

Mal looked them over in their joint try for pleading puppy dog stares and let out a soft breath, “Just securing the bond?”

They both nodded, “Just the bond, we swear.”

“We can have Bilbo supervise I suppose,” she said and their lips parted, her lifted finger had their lips purse a moment. “If, you both agree to take up the advice column in the paper one month each until we can coerce someone to take up the job, so far every other university paper has one but they still haven’t been able to find someone to take it up and there’s a pile of letters unanswered.”

“Agreed!” They said practically bouncing on their toes wordlessly signaling they couldn’t wait for the rest of the day to be over with so they could be bound to their One already.

Turned from the rows of artwork from the children who had thanked the nice ‘Ice Queen Lady’ for saving their lives and relatives from the meeting room they were displayed in among those for the rest of the ruling clan that you had been told of on your way back from the manicure and pedicure set for you. Fresh white tips with a hint of shimmer to them would be a nice touch for the upcoming event. Still this was hard being the reason for the injuries sustained by others. Not even mentioning the possible nightmares those children might have or be having. But focusing on the beginning ahead it became a bit easier to bear. With relatives who knew to some extent what that feeling was like.

Back to your room you went and to the trunk at the end of the bed they had brought along with your clothes from your closet you walked crouching down to ease the lid open. Inside several compartments were tucked away, enchanted to hold well beyond what thought possible. Moved aside the top tray was settled on the ground beside you freeing your hands to lift the next tray holding what you wanted, a stack of journals. From the top your fingers eased across the cover of the first three packed with songs, plays and music based stories that your dad had written packed with all the notes you could find in the trunk related to his work. The next five were journals of notes from your mother on her work above the final one you smoothed your fingers across the cover with Vanyar runes reading, ‘Nique-Puifíní Jaqiearae, Wedding Drafts’ pressed into the leather with ink fading ever so slightly.

Cracking open the front cover page by page were possible choices or parts of choices for everything from locations to nicknames of what you took as your relatives to start up a guest list and seating chart. Beyond that were sketches of cutlery and dish designs with color as well in the table setting section. A whole section on music from your father for the ceremony came next you lingered through. Imagining the notes come alive in your head filling your eyes with tears that deep inhales eased so you could turn ahead to the section on the ceremony from layouts to flowers and everything in between all halfway done with mentions to collaborate with you on them. Lastly was your section before the blank honeymoon tour portion you guessed she didn’t get to. Makeup, shoes and hair were only lists of possible styles or shades with the gown silhouette she drafted.

Up to the neck and sleeveless it would hug you all the way down to the layered poofy mermaid end of the gown, the back with heavy beading of vines and leaves, the start of a more intricate pattern you were sure to cover the whole gown. There wasn’t much detail but on a second sheet you had drawn up her design and had gone farther with it. Layered into the skirt were sheer layers of red cloth overlaid by sheer white layers giving the whole skirt an upside down flower appeal. All fed by ridges arching over your hips the skirt you hoped your Great Grandmother High Queen Ilma might find nice to help you bring the gown off the page. Surely the red wouldn’t be a problem and resembling a flower couldn’t get more Elf friendly than that.

While you had been puzzled on the missing sleeves growing up you left it at that as Niro and Diaa had already shown you their drafts of possible designs for the embroidery on the ends of the traditional robe you would be clad in. All a deep red with golden thread, with a Calla Lily shaped train, tight across the bodice reaching to your shoulder blades in a slight v dip shallower than the one across your bust feeding to the golden buttons securing it. The sleeves however would help to keep the robe cooler on you in its thick material in flaps of sorts secured only at the shoulders to hang over your arms elegantly down to the pointed tips meant to touch your fingertips. It truly was beautiful, shown by the matching one Niro and Diaa had worn in their own ceremonies in shades of blue and green to honor their own clans. While you had chosen red to simply nod to your Hobbit line as mint wasn’t a lucky color to choose for the wedding ceremony and deep greens weren’t known to be the clan color of your Vanyar roots from what was publicly known, so you hoped red might be acceptable.

Still, closing the book you sighed turning your focus to Bagheera on his perch freshly finished preening blinked looking you over feeling your eyes on him. “You’d tell me if I was missing a step in all this, right?” Slightly his head cocked and down your gaze dropped to return the work journals and tray to the trunk you shut.

The Emperor however in the doorway stood there saying, “In all of this you are doing amazingly.” That turned your head to him on his path to your bed to guide you up to sit beside him, “I am so proud of you, and they will be too. The red robe will be lovely on you, forest green, no matter how finely crafted would not be accepted to your lineage, Vanyar rarely claim dark shades, unless you accept blue for the Durins if they would accept that.”

“I do like the red. I would certainly stand out,” timidly you added, “Plus, your shade is a deep crimson.”

That had his grin creep out and his arm settle around your back easing you into a warm hug, “I will be honored to have you wear our shade, you have every right to wear it proudly.”

Settling your head into his shoulder you said, “There will be a bit of hassle working the clan dances and tasks with the rest of my relatives surely.”

Lowly he chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head pleased eternally that even now decades later you had reached this level of a bond. “Even if you feel the need to place them in those rites I will be proud and happy to watch the ceremony all the same participation or none. It’s your day, for you, Thorin and the millions of people watching.” Making you giggle softly to his own chuckle.

“Do they like Dwarves?”

Deeply he inhaled and answered, “I don’t believe they spent much time around Dwarves to be honest. However they seemed pleased for your protection and all Oropher had shared on their race and clan. Even a bit new to their experience I am certain they will accept Thorin and his clan into the fold seeing how happy he makes you.”

In a glance up at him you asked, “Did you love your One?”

With a smile he met your gaze answering, “I did, as children, and surely I would have loved them in our adulthood as well. I know you are growing fonder of Thorin and while your trust solidifies that love will grow. You won’t be able to be timid in sharing those affections once you pass over that threshold, and he won’t be leaving you there alone either, be just as madly head over heels for you as well. Halfway there already by my eye.”

Right by the fountain where they had planned to meet her Fili and Kili stood with hands in their pockets keeping an eye out for Mal. Though at her arrival into the courtyard with two big flour sacks they hurried over to accept hold of lightening her load. Settling his against his chest Fili asked, “What’s this then?”

Mal said, “The letters for the column.”

The brothers looked down at them and said together, “Ah,”

Kili smiled up at her saying, “Ready for the train then?”

Mal nodded, “Sure, you did call to clear with Bilbo about this?”

Fili said, “Called and said we were dropping by said he’d be in and we can have Dwalin and Balin come down too for extra witnesses if you prefer to confirm it’s just for the bond and not to contest our courtship agreement talks.”

She nodded and off they went to catch the train to the waiting driver that took them to the office. There past the lobby and lift they filed out smiling at the sight of Dwalin gently bouncing Frodo in his arms humming to him calming him down from his latest tooth coming in with a frozen teething toy on which he was gumming. His eyes shifted to the trio entering the floor while Bilbo finished up another call, “What are you three up to? Don’t you boys be corrupting young Mal into any mischief now.”

Fili and Kili said, “There’s no corrupting anywhere.”

Bilbo eyed them hanging up the call and came closer to the trio flashing them a quick grin asking, “So what is all this about now?”

Mal inhaled and said, “Fili and Kili and I talked this morning and we thought it might be best to solidify our bonds.”

Dwalin huffed and Kili said, “Not to skip the contract negotiations or start a relationship yet!”

Fili, “Just to settle the bond and see where we stand through the rest of the negotiations.”

Bilbo looked between them asking, “Bonds? What bonds are you talking about?”

Mal said, “When Smaug attacked our Bonding Marks were touched and since then when we’re close they glow until we settle the bond as Ones.” She said showing him the clover on her wrist and jellyfish behind her ear that were lit up.

With lips parted Bilbo said, “So that’s what the marks do, my mother only told me it was a guiding sign to our Ones, here I’ve been popping into every shop with an ax symbol on the shop front.”

Fili, Kili and Dwain all looked at him with the former asking, “Ax symbol?”

Bilbo nodded and shifted his arm lifting his rolled up sleeve a bit more above his elbow revealing the now glowing ax mark widening Dwalin’s eyes. “Had this forever, been driving me halfway mad to figure out what it meant.” Lowering his sleeve he asked Mal, “So how does the bonding work?”

Mal said, “Well it’s in a spot your One touches you the first time, they brushed mine and did the same in hiding from Smaug. All we’d have to do is tap them again to settle the bond so they would stop glowing, and there’s a sort of deepening of trust, sort of a link between us you can’t break.”

Bilbo looked to Dwalin asking, “Your clan would be against the settling?”

Dwalin wet his lips halting Frodo’s bouncing a moment for his brain to click back into gear again and answer, “Not the settling, merely sometimes with the bonding a wish to rush things comes up. If you agree it’s merely to settle the bond and not to rush into courtship then I can’t see why their parents would be upset in just the bond.”

Tentatively the trio smiled at one another and once Balin was called down under the careful watch of the elder pair of brothers timid pokes of each glowing jellyfish and clover dimmed and formed an outline around the freckles in shades of matching pale blue and gold. Along with those from Fili and Kili the bonding bracelets in hues matching their mark outlines of woven mithril with pendants in the shape of jellyfish and clovers were traded and looped around their wrists. Hovering to the side however clinging to the toddler in his hold now dozing off again at the relief from his pain Dwalin kept stealing glances at the Hobbit clearly sharing his Bonding Mark he muttered to Balin about while Fili and Kili muttered to Mal the reason why their uncle was so focused on Bilbo.

Mal with a sudden smile asked, “So, Dwalin, what’s your mark?”

That had his eyes on her along with Fili and Kili’s in shock for her sudden meddling. Subtly he cleared his throat and blinked a couple times before rumbling out, “An ax.”

Bilbo smirked asking, “That a common mark among Dwarves?”

Balin fought his smirk as his baby brother looked at his One, “No, quite rare, especially in green.”

Bilbo, “Green, oh,” he said as it clicked in his head and he looked Dwalin over adding, “I wouldn’t suppose you know how to juggle, an old demand I expected of my One when I was a fauntling.”

Dwalin, “I used to often, but I can pick it up again shake off the rust.”

Bilbo gave him a curt nod replying, “Practice first, then we’ll talk, since there seems to be need of contracts.” Turning for his desk hiding his pleased grin at having such a handsome and kind Dwarf all his own to be bonded to. While Dwalin held his own bashful grin for the hint of opening terms with his One he could now confirm his hopes he’d shared with his parents and brother on his brewing affections and bond for Bilbo and little Frodo.

Balin smoothed his hand across his brother’s back in a silent symbol of pride then said, “Now boys, you have a ride to the Palace for tomorrow to be on time for supper and allow Miss Mal to get to her studies and start off her break properly.”

Mal glanced at her watch, “Ooh, not studies but I do have to go. Helping with the new medicine shipment to cover for Tallep.”

The boys nodded and said, “We’ll drop you on the way. Bye uncles, Bilbo and Frodo!” Filing into the still open lift waving to the room to get her to the car and work on time. The full ride they shared their plans for the trip to Greenwood, after which they could plan a stop together for lunch or something casual.

Fili’s eyes popped a bit wider on the car’s stop at the vet’s office, “Mal, hey, um, can we give Jaqi your number?”

Kili nodded, “Right! She said she forgot to ask for it and the school social page is swamped lately to reach you.”

Mal, “Oh sure, ya, I wasn’t sure if I could ask for hers or not.”

Fili, “Oh don’t worry about that. You’re friends and close to family now.”

Halfway to blushing she said, “I wouldn’t say family yet. My parents said it’d be after I graduate and finish residency for any engagement at least.”

Kili waved his hand, “As if that would stop the bond. We will be friends first but even then we’re still practically family.”

Fili, “You can always come to us no matter what.”

Mal nodded and paused asking, “She’ll be okay this weekend? She seemed nervous.”

They both said, “We’ll look after her. Big, meeting of clans and we rarely get to go to Greenwood aside from Great Gramps.”

Tenderly the boys took her hands saying, “We’ll be there. You just relax and we’ll tell you all about it when we get back.” She nodded and her hands were released in her slip out of the car to hurry inside allowing them to signal the driver to head to the Palace.

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore, @mariannetora, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455, @xxbyimm

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78, @pastelhexmaniac

x Thorin – @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor

#Fili/Kili x OC Mal #Durins meet the Baggins #Meeting of possible inlaws #Emperor Winge #King Thror #Thrain and Diaa #Memory Lane #Gifted Drawings #Prepping for the big trip #dwalin x bilbo #Frodo #Bonding Marks #Plans #Hobbit

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

Text

frENEMIES, pt.2 {Quarterback AU}

Summary: While her first prank may have backfired, Y/N isn’t ready to let Grayson off the hook just yet and her next plan may include collateral damage.

Warnings: naked Grayson, swearing, sexual innuendos

Part one

She could hear him scream her name before running off, tossing his clothes in her car with a satisfied clap of her hands. To say she's been craving revenge would be an understatement, and giving him a taste of what she truly wishes to do has certainly been sweet.

That is until she hears a man clear his throat behind her in the halls, too aware of his presence even before she turns around. It’s impossible to ignore a man like Grayson who has an aura around him...sort of distinctive presence that overshadows everything and everyone.

But turning around was a mistake because Grayson had decided to wrap the mascot's scarf around his privates and offered a glowing view of his impeccable abs and damn it, she couldn't lie and say he isn't quite literally the most handsome man she's ever had the pleasure of seeing. She may consider herself a stone cold bitch, but she was definitely not a dead bitch and those abs would make anyone want to lick them.

"Missing something, quarterback?" Raising her eyebrow victoriously, her smirk had widened into a smile he found wicked, but all too beautiful. He could sense her stare and the sheer power of will it takes for her not to make it too obvious and while he'd usually make a move, the giggles around him are an undeniable reminder that it's neither the time nor place and that she caused his presumed walk of shame, except he had nothing to be ashamed of.

Looking around the gawking crowd with a cocky smirk, Grayson shrugs and leans in, only then noticing the light pink tinted cheeks of hers and the extremely intoxicating scent radiating off her. It felt like a dash of spring by the seashore and he nearly made a fool of himself as a desire to hold her almost overpowered him.

Why is he suddenly attracted to Satan? Sure, he always thought she was beautiful and he always was a sucker for curves but her personality didn’t change over night, and Grayson may be a player but he certainly doesn’t sleep with girls that may kill him after an orgasm - black widows. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it nor understand anything at the moment, but he knew he wanted to see those pink cheeks redden.

"Just giving the people what they want."

Rolling her eyes at him, she takes a step back and shakes it off - the unquestionable need to have her hands on those abs, purely for scientific purposes, of course.

Leaning into her further, he chuckles when her lips press together nervously and all too happy with himself, he states:"If you wanted me naked, all you had to do was ask."

Appalled, perhaps even horrified, she groans before leaning into him, close enough to use his shoulder as leverage to lift herself on her tiptoes up to his ear instead of his lips as he half expected, perhaps even hoped for, whispering.

"Right. Well, if I were you I'd skedaddle before the very bewildered principle gets here and he's about a few steps away."

Eyes wide, Grayson took off but as he passed by her, Y/N made sure to finish the job by pulling off his scarf as swiftly as possible, enjoying the follow up "Y/L/N" scream from a distancing Grayson and his exquisite ass.

Being wicked feels good and she had every intention of reminding Grayson exactly how wicked she can be.

"Did you really have to embarrass him like that?" Amina whisper shouts, receiving a raised eyebrow as a response as Y/N stops walking and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Seriously? You think he was embarrassed when everyone was gawking at his perfectly sculpted body?" Annoyance in her eyes and tone dripping with sarcasm, Y/N was already plotting her next move in this war she was waging with Grayson.

"Besides, you know he had it coming after what he did to me." Stating her reason wasn't enough for Amina, though. After years of tiptoeing around Ethan and the feelings they both had for each other, she had finally decided to give him a chance and if her best friend is hell bent on destroying his twin brother, that would certainly put a strain on her soon to be an official relationship.

"It's been years, Y/N. You need to learn to let things go. If not for you, then for me." Raising her voice ever so slightly, Amina frowns when she sees her best friend's eyes harden and her jaw clench as if she had just been deeply hurt and insulted.

It wasn’t so long ago he had ruined her chances at dating a really great guy that had a little chat with him and then ghosted her after. It was the first guy she liked that liked her back, a chance for a lot of her firsts to come true, but she found herself at an age where most people would mock her for never even kissing a guy before. Her war with Grayson was started by him freshman year and it continued daily ever since...he started it, but she has every intention on finishing it. As Aristocats have taught her: “Ladies don’t start fights, but they can sure finish them.”

"Years? Amina, he called me a snake and a clumsy nerd and both nicknames have been haunting me since freshman year. He...that's the most insignificant thing he's done to me compared to other...despicable ways he had tormented me. Even before I knew who he was." Swallowing thickly, Y/N drew in a shuddered breath before speaking again.

"If you want to distance yourself from me to stay clean in front of Ethan, do it. But I can't let things go. Not when it’s him. You know that."

And without a word from Amina, not even a sound, Y/N nods, accepting that her best friend chose a side and it isn't hers.

***

A week flew by as Y/N plotted her next move against her worst enemy, aka the quarterback and most self absorbed prick she had ever had the displeasure knowing.

It's baffling how someone so handsome can be such an asshole...almost tragic.

But it didn't take her long to figure out what he treasures most and what seems to have all the girls swooning - his hair. He’s been growing it for a year and while she couldn’t lie and say he didn’t look damn good with it, she hated every perfect lock of hair on his head. Every single curl, wavy little lock that frames his face and the way he runs his fingers through his hair. That actually made a girl fall of her bike and another to walk into a tree.

She wondered if putting hair removal cream would be too extreme considering dye could easily be reversed, but then she remembers how he was the reason she didn't have eyebrows in sophomore year and her doubts quickly disappeared.

This time she decided to strike in the afternoon, sneaking into the locker room an hour after practice because Grayson always stays late and is always alone. If it were anyone else she'd have admired their work ethic, but this was Grayson fucking Dolan and she had no intention of admiring him. Ever. The abs have fucked with her brain once but that's solely because she was caught off guard but this time she was prepared for anything.

Hiding behind the lockers as she heard a man enter, she smirked. Everything is going according to plan and soon, she'd be there to hear his screams before running for her life.

The shower starts and the water splashing against the tiles is the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard. Her heart beats wildly in anticipation, her mind racing with all the probable outcomes and her eyes are wide open. Mouth a little dry, she realizes she's nervous too. A small pang of guilt hits, deep inside her chest and she's sweating, the doubts creeping back in.

If she goes through with this, wouldn't that make her just as bad as he is? Would she really be a snake as he referred her as?

Either way, it's too late to do anything about it. Right?

Sighing she slaps a hand over her forehead, wondering why she's feeling guilty when he deserved worse. It's not like he needs his hair to play...well, maybe he needs it to be a player outside the field but it certainly won't affect his game on the field.

Breathing fast, she bites her lower lip because she knows it's a matter of minutes if not seconds when she'll hear his reaction and she's hoping...praying that it gives her some satisfaction, at least.

But then she feels something is off...almost as if someone's watching her...almost as if someone is right next to her - an undeniable presence she’s too familiar with.

"Whatchu doing?"

The sudden voice makes her gasp, falling to her knees as her mind shuts down momentarily, her head whipping back to see what had scared her, though she knew. Deep inside, she knew that voice, that presence, that scent.

"Damn, didn't mean to scare you THAT much, sneaky princess." Folding his arms, Grayson raises an eyebrow as his lips form that killer smirk that makes every woman weak in their knees.

"Wait...are you here to see me naked again? Because I meant what I said, you only need to ask." Crouching down, watching her eyes dart from him to the running shower, Grayson shakes his head before leaning closer, stealing back the attention. If there's anything he likes, it's having all the attention on him. And whether he likes to admit it or not (which he never would say out loud), he loves her attention on him.

Slowly, confidently, he licks his lips and speaks with certainty. "And when you do ask...I will ruin you for other men. Promise."

But as much as his words created chaos inside her head, making it hard to breathe when he winks with that self satisfied smile and offers her a hand to help her stand, Y/N was only thinking one thing - WHO IS IN THE FUCKING SHOWER?!

And as she ignored Grayson's hand and help, standing on her own two feet, a throaty scream quickly followed and she found herself mortified.

"What did you do?" Grayson questions, his voice a bit higher, his eyes on the shower as a very naked man emerges without a single hair on his head and a horrified look on his face only to realize it's Ethan and she fucked with the wrong twin.

"I HAVE NO HAIR!"

Tags: @mendesficsxbombay @beinscorpio @peacedolantwins @dolandolll

PART 3

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan x reader #ethan dolan #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan quarterback

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capesandshapes · 3 years

Note

"snowflake the fairy and her boyfriend BRAD" capes no

Fuck you, this is an invitation and since you asked for it on anon everyone else has to suffer through it too.

Learn about Snowflake and her mystical boyfriend Brad below the cut.

I'm going to give you some background, and by that I mean, I'm going to humiliate myself awfully beforehand: When I was a kid, I freaking loved the Winx club and I would wake up at six am on Saturdays to watch it. Since Winx club began to air with I was eight years old and took a long hiatus in America around the time I turned ten/eleven and my parents also coincidentally had a bunch of computers laying around for me to play around and type on since my dad worked for IBM-- it's safe to assume that I spent nearly every free moment of those three years thinking about this cursed concept and plotting these awful books.

So like, the Winx club was aired on PBS in the midwestern market at an ungodly hour since they also served the east coast, and I would literally go to sleep the second the sun went down to watch it. I was kind of a weird kid, so I always pretended that I was tuning a tv to turn to my favorite channel before bed and so forth, then I'd have these dreams that I was pretty in control of.

And again.

I was obsessed with Winx.

So, obviously, I had these dumb dreams about winx fairies and all of that, but the show wasn't going exactly how I wanted it after like a season (thanks freaking RIVEN) so I drifted away from that and started dreaming about, writing about, and obsessing about my own rip off winx.

Enter, Snowflake. Red hair, blue eyes. Fire powers, even though her name was Snowflake. A clear rip-off of Bloom, but like picture more dresses and she's a fairy who lives in a fucking igloo.

Snowflake started out clearly interested in two men who, I shit you not, were named Brad and Joey. Brad had blonde hair and blue eyes, he was a rip-off of bloom's boyfriend but shirtless 90% of the time and fucking useless. Joey broke my heart. Joey was a rip-off of good old Riven, the love of my young life, only add a cool, tough tattoo on his arm that was a literal knife with the word 'hurt' underneath it.

Snowflake started out as a princess who went to a boarding school, but eventually, I realized that I didn't need the rest of those bitches around (by that I mean literally all of the other students). So Snowflake was a princess who hung out in her kingdom and had like three friends who were decidedly beneath her; Stacey, Edna, and Kay. Kay was Joey's twin sister. They were basically yes girls with one note personalities, save for Kay, who was like Snowflake's best friend and had light powers that were totally ripped off of the Dazzler and useless 90% of the time.

The meat of the story is that there was this older fairy who wanted to melt Snowflake's home and flood the world. She was named Carly because, surprise, I was bullied by a girl named Carly. Carly (in the story) bit people, but like, not as a vampire thing, she just like ate them? You didn't die or even bleed, and the part would grow back, I think I just thought that cannibalism was a pretty mean thing to do.

And also Carly wanted to abduct Snowflake to make her melt the world because Snowflake was basically a glorified lighter.

This all sounds twice as stupid when I write it out.

Anyway, so Snowflake's main boo was Brad, since Joey would have random fits and decide to be evil every once in a while and that was 'annoying'. The problem with Brad, however, was that he was a classic himbo and always got captured and had to be saved from the evil lair (an apartment inside a literal volcano) -- They always caught Brad because, I have no idea why, the idiot of the year was always hanging out in a hot tub and I'm pretty sure that's because that was the only way that my little brain could comprehend him being shirtless all the time as I needed him to be.

But eventually, like the eighth time Snowflake came to rescue him, Brad died. Like, Snowflake saw him across the clearing and this villain literally pushed a fucking boulder on him. I outlined in word and printed out on one of the five pieces of paper my parents would let me have every day (To keep my sister and I from stealing and printing on a whole ream) that this man literally had a boulder rolled on him. Like, Carly climbed up the stairs, went to a ledge, and had the fucking time to roll a boulder on him while Snowflake was talking.

And her spirits were crushed almost as flat as Brad was.

So like Snowflake decided to go out with Joey who was like, "have you ever considered being evil idk it's occasionally fun" and became evil and melted the world? Listen, trauma can change a girl.

Then she became a mermaid and brought her friends back as merzombies

But she wasn't happy, even though she could now wear black and cut her hair? Also Joey kissed with tongue and Brad didn't, so that should have been a major plus.

I really think it was just because Joey wore a shirt all the time, but who knows.

Snowflake's dead parents who died off-screen sometime showed up as ghosts and told her that she could do anything with the power of love. She asked them to stay, AND THEN THEY LITERALLY SAID SOMETHING LIKE, "sorry, we can't be here with you, you can do anything with the power of love, but we're not in love with you, DAUGHTER."

UNDERWATER

Snowflake cried on Brad's FLAT body and the tears somehow touched it and he was brought back to life and then immediately started to drown because I had a baseline understanding of biology, and by that I mean I understood that people did not breathe water.

Brad dying a second time in front of her made her powers explode

so, somehow, she unlocked all the powers of the HTRAE (THAT'S THE WHOLE UNIVERSE'S NAME, NOT THE PLANET. It's Earth backwards, because technically the planet is just inside earth-- Listen I can't explain this shit very well) and froze her kingdom again

and then suddenly like, controlled all the elements. Like bam, she is nature, bitch. This includes metal. No idea why. Just elements plus metal, which again, not an actual element there.

But it couldn't be over, because I'm from the midwest and my grandma is the head of the church commitee. Ten year old Beth knows how love and romance work, okay, she knows how to craft a fucking story and where to end it.

so I was like I guess her and BRAD get married. And then Joey came back to fight for her hand and he won, but Snowflake didn't love him so she froze him? EVEN THOUGH SHE LIKED HIS TONGUE KISSES.

SHE CRIED BECAUSE OF THE TONGUE KISSES I SWEAR.

And then her and Brad literally got onto a horse to ride into the sunset and made out-- With tongue.

and that's just like a really brief summary of my actual hundreds of printed pages (10 pt font) of nonsensical plot that was going to make up the Snowflake Series, and as an eleven year old I was convinced that this would sell for millions of dollars and everyone would be so impressed that they'd carve, 'Creator of Snowflake', into my tombstone.

#this is the worst thing i've ever explained/written on here

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years

Text

Deep Blue Fantasy Part Six

Pairing: Merman!Tamaki Amajiki x Fem!reader

Warnings: Some angst and hopelessness, otherwise none

Author’s Note:

This is quite likely my favorite part of the story! Even though it’s a little on the shorter side, it’s really top tier for me. We got some tooth-rotting fluff up in here (Sugar’s going to give you some cavities (*≧m≦*) ) and then some lovely angst (cri).

I’ll leave this for you and run. I hope you like it! This will all come to its thrilling conclusion on the ninth! I’m happy with how it’s been received here!

Love you!

-Sugar

✤✤✤✤✤

{Pt. 1} {Pt. 2} {Pt. 3} {Pt. 4} {Pt. 5} {Pt. 6} {Pt. 7}

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

Another week passed. A whole week of Tamaki falling more and more in love with you.

Everyone at the chateau had taken notice of her highness's mysterious new best friend, often seen giggling with one another while you walked through the halls.

You had helped Tamaki come up with a good story this time, which happened to work much better than letting him nod along to anyone trying to play twenty questions to learn more about him. As far as the staff was concerned, Tamaki was a foreigner from far away lands who couldn't speak the island tongue. You however, just so happened to speak the language he did know, and that was why he couldn't respond to anyone other than you.

On the topic of language, both you and Tamaki spent hours in your study together. You taught him everything you could about the human world (including how to read, which he was picking up quite well), while he told you tales of merpeople history and culture, teaching you sign language along the way. Tamaki couldn't help but be impressed with how quickly you learned the motions for each word and phrase. Every time you were able to hold a short conversation with him, a tiny fire of pride glowed just a little brighter in his chest.

His time alone with you, however, soon drew to a close. One morning, you shook him awake with an eager gleam in your eye.

"He's coming today!" you excitedly whispered to him, referring to your father.

You'd been ecstatic since the day before after learning he was on schedule to come back to Milrich, which was the island you were staying at for the time being. You were in one of your favorite dresses, (F/C) skirts softly swishing around your legs. Tamaki noticed that your hair was done differently today, and he had to admit, it looked really nice.

You decided that today would be a good time to take him around town, showing him the shop stands and letting him greet some of the townspeople. Tamaki was nervous at first, clinging to your side at all times and doing little more than offering small waves to people. You made sure to keep him distanced enough so that you wouldn't have to explain why he couldn't hold a conversation, but he enjoyed seeing the sights of the town all the same.

Something was really starting to bother him, though. The people around you treated you with so much respect. Some of them even did an odd sort of bending over for you when you passed by. A sick feeling began to churn in his stomach. It had to just be him overthinking things, right? But the way you lived looked so different from these other humans he saw. Did you have more money? You mentioned your father owning the islands. That had to be it.

Tamaki gnawed on his lip. If you were rich, what would that mean for your interest in him? He wasn't by any means an important merman. He wouldn't have anything to offer if you were to get together. Would your father accept him? He must be the one with the money. Why hadn't Tamaki worried about this more? Why hadn't he asked you earlier about what you were? He was so focused on himself and the fact that he was a merman, he'd barely had time to ask what a princess was.

A sound interrupted Tamaki's thoughts, leaving him little time to try and guess what it was or what it meant before you excitedly gasped and grabbed his hand. Brianne, who had been accompanying you both a few paces away hurried to attempt to keep up with the both of you as you sprinted in the direction of the shore. Tamaki saw an impressive ship docked at the end of an extensive boardwalk; planks leading out into dark waters. He noticed how the boat rocked, pushed and pulled by the waves constantly slapping its sides.

A middle-aged man stood at the bottom of a ramp, surrounded by a small crowd of people. He resembled you, or, maybe Tamaki should say you resembled him. From your face to your build to your hair, this man was undeniably your father.

"Daddy!" You broke off from Tamaki's hand and tore down the wooden dock in his direction.

At the sound of your voice, he looked up, eyes twinkling as he caught sight of you. He was only able to take a few steps toward you before you leapt into his arms, hugging yourself into his large chest.

Tamaki stood by himself at the end of the pier, watching your interactions. Most of your exchanged words were swallowed by distance and the sound of waves slapping against the support posts anchoring the dock. He startled when Brianne finally caught up, panting slightly as she brushed past him and continued her way down the pier, lifting her skirts from the path of her legs.

You were still speaking amiably with your father when she approached the two of you, doing one of those odd bending over things before her own mouth began to move in what Tamaki assumed was welcome for your father.

Her arrival seemed to distract you enough from your father to look around, catching sight of Tamaki still standing awkwardly on shore. You waved at him, then bit your lip as you waited for Brianne to finish talking.

When she finally did, you latched onto your father's arm, pulling him much like you did to Tamaki down the boardwalk, however, you went much slower.

"Father, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Tamaki heard you say as you approached.

He looked up from you and met Tamaki's eyes. He was too far away to determine what color they were, but Tamaki could tell they weren't quite the same hue as yours. They looked tired and worn, but warm and friendly all the same.

"This is Tamaki," you introduced. "He's a castaway from a shipwreck who washed ashore last week. He's been staying with me since."

Your father glanced between you and Tamaki for a moment, finally sizing up the boy before him. After a slightly awkward moment of silence, he offered his hand, which by now Tamaki knew he was supposed to shake. His hand was large and, much like yours, warm in his grasp.

"It's nice to meet you, young lad," your father said, still gripping Tamaki's hand. It didn't seem harsh, merely firm, possibly threatening. "Haven't been too much trouble for my daughter now, have you?"

Out of habit, Tamaki opened his mouth to answer, but stopped himself before he could make a legitimate attempt.

"You see," you spoke up for him, "Tamaki doesn't speak our tongue. He's foreign. Luckily it was among the many languages I have been practicing, so we have been able to communicate."

"Really now? Which one?"

You swallowed, quickly scanning through your mind for a plausible language that your father didn't speak. You named it, and he merely nodded, finally releasing Tamaki's hand.

"He's a very interesting person, father," you continued, holding onto your king's arm as you and his entourage began to make your way back to the chateau. "I have had many opportunities to learn from him. He's very interesting to listen to." You glanced across the way to share a smile with Tamaki, which he appreciated.

"I assume you've been keeping up with your studies as well?" your father asked with a slightly teasing smile.

"She has," Brianne piped up. "Quite nicely too, even with her new little friend who she's running around with at all hours of the day."

No one in the group was able to miss the color donning both yours and Tamaki's cheeks at her statement.

Your father merely smiled down at the both of you, catching your gaze with his warm eyes. "I'm glad you have a friend, (Y/N)."

You smiled softly at the grass below you. "I missed you, father."

"And I missed you, princess."

"The whole town has been awaiting your return," Brianne spoke again. "We should have something in celebration. A dance, perhaps?"

Tamaki wasn't quite certain what a dance was, but from the way you perked up it sounded like it was something to be excited about.

"Oh, daddy, we haven't had one in so long! It'll be wonderful!"

Tamaki suddenly noticed Brianne eyeing him a bit slyly, catching his gaze for a second before innocently roving her glance back ahead. He was clearly missing something, yet again. This was starting to get a bit annoying, having to wait before he could ask you every question he had in private.

"A dance it will be then," your father said. "We'll open the chateau grounds and the entire village will be invited."

You removed your arm from his in order to clap your hands together. "Oh, I'm so excited!"

...

What is a dance?

Tamaki hadn't been able to corner you all afternoon. You spent nearly all day with or around your father, which Tamaki more than understood. But there was no denying that without you, it was difficult to function in your world. What with his anxiety, it was a bit nice to not have just anyone trying to talk with him, but it was still a little unnerving when some of the chateau workers just stared at him from across the room, sometimes whispering amongst themselves. And while he thoroughly enjoyed every moment he spent with you, dependence wasn't his scene either.

So that's how he found himself holed up in his room, alone, having finally escaped the bustle of your chateau. It only seemed busier now that your father was here again, where Tamaki had been used to calm, quiet, nearly empty stone walls.

An hour or so later, you poked your head in to find him sprawled face down on his bed, trying to come up with ways to make a relationship between the two of you work. That is, if you were interested. And if Tamaki could finally just come out and tell you how he felt. Sometimes he found his own lip curling in frustration with himself. Why did he have to make it so hard on him?

"Tamaki?" Your sweet voice saying his name, just like the music that so easily lulled its way into his heart. "You doing okay?"

Tamaki lifted himself up so he could sit on the edge of the bed, and you joined him without hesitation. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just . . . a lot of people."

You tentatively placed a hand on his knee, making the raven haired boy's heart jump. "I'm sorry. It might be like this for another day or so until everything settles. I'll try to make time for you until then, okay?"

"Sure."

Your hand gave his knee the lightest of squeezes before pulling back to rest on your lap. "Are you excited for the dance?"

Tamaki bit his lip, relieved to finally be able to have the question that had been on his mind all day answered. "What's a dance?"

"Ah, you must not have them," you said. Tamaki could appreciate how understanding you were with him, never talking down to him like he was dumb. "They're parties. With food and music and dancing—"

"Oh, we do have those."

"So you'll accompany me?" you asked, allowing heat to spread a bit on your cheeks.

"What do you mean?"

Your blush intensified a little more. "You know. You can take people to these things and they can be your dance partner for the night . . . . Would you like to be mine?"

Tamaki's pulse quickened. "Of course! I'd love to. It's just, I've never really been to many parties or anything . . . ."

"And you probably don't know how to dance either. At least, not with human legs."

Tamaki shook his head.

"Come on." You stood, walking him to the door. You glanced around the hall before leaving his room, making your way all the way down to the door to the outside.

The sun had long since set, and the sky had been painted over with a heavy inky darkness. Tamaki couldn't help but take a moment to gaze up at the thousands of stars that were scattered outside the atmosphere. You'd taken him outside at night once a few days ago, pointing out constellations that had been illustrated in one of your books, spending hours together just looking at them as you talked.

He still found himself fascinated with them, only shaken from his trance by a light tug you'd given to his arm. "This way," you whispered. Tamaki didn't know why you were whispering, but there was something about the action that just seemed appropriate now.

You led him to an open area of grass, fringed by small trees on one side. The night sky was in full view all around, moonlight softly pooling onto every surface for miles. Tamaki could see you just well enough to truly appreciate your beauty, eyes running from your kind face to your sweet curves.

Without him scarcely being able to register it, you were suddenly so close to him; chest to chest in the middle of the clearing. His breath caught in his throat at your proximity, craving it and fearing it all at once.

"I'm going to teach you how to dance," you said, your voice low in the still night air. I'm Renasha Bliss—

You gently guided his arms and hands to their positions, your own heart suddenly feeling flighty at his butterfly touch. Once he was secured, you settled your own hands and began to explain to him some of the basics.

"Now move with me, and keep loose. There will be music with a tempo, so you'll have that to follow, but for now, let's just go—" You began to guide his movements, your feet gliding with his over the soft grass. "One two three, one two three, one two three—" Your voice remained soft, concentrating on keeping your motions fluid to provide an example for Tamaki.

Every now and then, fireflies would be awakened by your feet, humming into the air and creating a light show all your own. Tamaki watched as their glow shone in your eyes, unable to take his own off them. They went so deep, and he loved every detail about their color, even from what little he could make out in the dark.

You kept whispering one two three, one two three, until you felt Tamaki begin to relax into your hold, letting his own legs guide him relatively smoothly with yours.

"Look at that," you paused in your chanting to beam at him. "You're a natural."

The two of you kept going, your count eventually replaced by gentle humming. Tamaki closed his eyes and let the music flow into his ears, guided only by your warm touch and the silent continuation of one two three he'd started in his head.

"Spin me," you whispered.

Tamaki blinked his eyes open enough to watch as you broke apart from him momentarily, still grasping his hand. He'd seen this spin done countless times back home, so he was familiar with the action of lifting his arm over your head as you spun slowly beneath him, skirts swishing around your calves.

A soft laugh tumbled from your lips as he pulled you back into him. You hadn't had a dance partner in years, and never had it truly felt this way. Tamaki and you fell back into the three-step, notes still leaking from your throat as you recalled a dance you had watched your mother perform with your father when you were young.

Encased in the spotlight of moonbeams, with insects your only orchestra, the whole moment was nothing but magical. You couldn't keep the smile off your face if you tried, and you even noticed Tamaki letting go of his normally tense demeanor and softly grinning at you as well.

"Spin me again," you whispered giddily, having picked up the pace of your inaudible one two three's.

Tamaki happily obliged, watching as you dipped under his arm and held your position away from him for a second, only to come back into his chest. Except, you suddenly didn't quite feel like dancing anymore. He stilled as he held you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest.

Your breathing quickened as he looked into your eyes, indigo hues boring into your own (E/C) depths. Your lips parted ever so slightly in awe of him, which he quickly noticed, breaking the gaze to stare at your full pillows.

Your breaths intermingling was the only sign to you that you were drawing ever closer, unable to look or move away, completely spellbound by the man before you who was not quite of this world.

Otherworldly, you thought, your hand lightly running from his shoulder to the back of his neck, already applying pressure to the base in order to pull him in further. That's what he was. That's how you felt. In this unbreakable moment, where time had slowed and the earth had stopped spinning.

A breath. "Tamaki."

The whispered sound of his name made his gaze snap to your eyes again.

"Are you sure?" you asked, voice breathy behind your lips.

"About what?" Tamaki whispered back, caught up in your intense gaze.

"Taking me as your princess," you said, so close in his face the tips of your noses nearly brushed up against each other.

Princess. The word nearly sent a chill down his spine. What did it mean? The question had been gnawing at the back of his mind from the first day he'd been here, yet he'd never had the courage to ask it. But you were so close, so tantalizingly close, and he didn't want anything more to keep itself wedged between you.

Without a second thought, Tamaki parted his lips. "Actually, there's another question I haven't asked. It's been bothering me for a while."

"Oh?"

"I, uh . . . I don't actually know what a princess is."

Your eyes widened. "You—you don't know?"

Tamaki flinched, the spellbound moment he'd been caught in suddenly crashing down around him. He'd insulted you, he was certain. This was why he hadn't asked in the first place. He already regretted the words that had fallen from his tongue, wishing he could suck them back in again, go back to seconds before, when you were dancing, when you were finally about to kiss—

"Do you—do you not have princesses?" you asked in disbelief. "No monarchy?"

Monarchy. The simple word made his blood run cold, feeling rushing from his face. You were . . . royalty? This whole time?

"I—there's the emperor and the empress," he stammered out, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. "But we've never had—I've never heard of—I didn't know—"

Your eyebrows creased in worry at his crumbling face. "Tamaki are you okay?"

"You're—you're royalty," he finally said, his world momentarily pausing in its spiraling descent around him.

He couldn't miss how your face suddenly fell. You looked so . . . disappointed, almost betrayed. How could Tamaki have messed up so bad?

"Yes." Your voice was distant as you answered.

That was all he needed. He had to go. He couldn't bear to see you, to have you see him.

Tamaki spun around and began to run off in the direction of the sea. His feet pounded against the grass, nearly flying over the surface of the ground. He'd been to this path so many times before in the week he'd lived with you, so the journey was no difficult or unfamiliar one.

For the first time since he'd gotten his legs, Tamaki truly couldn't breathe. He had to get away, he just had to. Never before had he felt so foolish, so embarrassed. You were royalty? And he thought he had a chance? He should have known. The moment he'd laid eyes on your perfect face, the second he'd heard your beautiful voice, been touched by your gentle caring hands, you were more than he could ever deserve, and Tamaki should have known not to convince himself that you could ever love him back.

It all made sense; your home that was bigger than everyone else's, the people who seemed so eager to answer to every beck and call, everything from the way you carried yourself to the delicate circlet that always wrapped around your head.

You had status. You had money. You had power. You had no business being with someone as lowly as a merman like him.

His feet hit sand and the sound of the sea crashed into his ears. He ran into the waves, not caring that they were cold, not caring that they were so strong they could throw him against a rock and he could die. He only cared that it was wet and it was home and it was away.

Tamaki fought the opposing force, nearly screaming in frustration as a wave pushed him back towards shore, silently begging him to go back. Its pleas fell on deaf ears, and Tamaki focused all his energy on surging forward until he was up to his neck in the salty water. He yanked the shell necklace over his head and tossed it away, angry at how he'd once held so much hope in it. He thought it would set him free, not destroy his life. He threw it somewhere behind him, incapable of thinking of consequences for his actions.

He started to feel funny, his body beginning to reconstruct itself much like it had so many days before. This transformation was faster and far less painful, but Tamaki still stumbled forward, his face colliding with an oncoming wave as his legs started to fuse together. He held his breath and buried his arms in the sand to hold himself under the violent waters, waiting for his tail to reform and his gills to come back. Finally it was complete, and he pushed himself off the seafloor, pumping his powerful tail in the direction of home.

Home.

He couldn't go back. What would Mirio think?

Tamaki frantically whipped between the black rocks that jutted from the waves, hoping to fight off the strong watery forces in his moments of adrenaline. Soon, he surpassed the location where he had leaned against the rocks to watch you, experiencing what a human was for the first time. He passed where he'd grown legs and nearly drowned, claimed and spat out by the sea which had been his home. Finally he was where he'd last parted ways with Mirio, right before he'd started on this long, chaotic journey.

Tamaki floated still in the water, finally letting himself stop. His arms wrapped around himself, physically trying to keep himself from falling apart more than he already had.

He hadn't been submerged in the ocean for so long, it felt surreal. The weightlessness, the cold, the darkness. For the first time, none of it was comforting. He already missed the sun and the grass and the air and your wonderful face—

You. He had been a fool. A fool in love. An idiot infatuated by a fantasy, a fantasy where the two of you could be together, no matter who you were or where you came from.

Tamaki felt himself sinking. He didn't care. He kept his elbows to his chest and his face in his hands as his surroundings got colder and darker. The crushing feeling in his chest was worse than any water pressure he'd ever experienced.

His caudal fins brushed sand, and he soon found himself lying on the seafloor. He couldn't move for now. It was almost as if there wasn't a thought in his mind other than his own self-hatred.

What was it you said humans did? Cry? That's what Tamaki felt like doing. Except he couldn't. He wasn't a human anymore. His dreams had come to an end, and now he was little more than alone in the vast blue darkness that had once been his home.

...

To be continued . . . .

くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡くコ:彡

[Part Seven]

Author's Note:

Whoof, that was heavy.

Sorry this one was a little shorter than the others but oh well, variety I guess ('−｀) ﾝ. Don't worry, I promise there will be a happy ending!

Thanks again for reading! Love you guys!

-Sugar

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