#out—try for a new life on her own terms and do what’s right; something she had tried by going to med school before everything happened.

[sugarcoated-lame]

Always A Bridesmaid | Jake Seresin x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI!

Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader

Synopsis: Bradley tells all the guys at his wedding that his little sister is off limits… But when has Jake ever listened to Rooster?

WC: 10.5k (she’s a long one folks)

Warnings: a teeny bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smut, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected pinv, slight overstimulation, age gap (not really specified but reader is around 23-24 yrs old, jake is in his early 30s), jake being too damn charming for his own good, rooster being a very overprotective big brother, jake being a menace, and natasha being the best sister-in-law, for the sake of this story we’re gonna pretend that Goose died a few years later than what is canon to explain how Bradley has a sister that’s 10+ years younger than him lol

a/n: it’s been like two months since I initially started writing this, so I’m so happy to finally get it out! (:

⋆ . ˚ ✩ comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ⋆ . ˚ ✩

*

Today was a big day, and you wish you could say you were more excited about it. It’s not every day that your big brother gets married to the love of his life. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and Natasha “Phoenix” Trace had finally said “I do” and you were ecstatic for your favorite female pilot to officially become a part of the family. 

But you were also recently single, having been broken up with by the boyfriend you’d been with throughout most of college and the following two years since you’d graduated.

Things hadn’t ended on bad terms, the two of you just weren’t in love anymore. What worked in college just wasn’t working anymore, and you’d spent the last few months of your relationship denying to yourself the fact that you were unhappy. 

You’re pretty sure now that the both of you had known for a while you weren’t right for each other, but you had been scared to end it–terrified at the notion of starting over. But, the relationship had run its course and, ultimately, he was the one to end things. 

That was three weeks ago. You’d come to terms with the break-up, knowing it was what’s best for you. But that didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. It didn’t mean you weren’t sad, or that you were ready to be subjected to all the happiness and celebration that goes into a wedding.

You’re granted a brief reprieve from your melancholy thoughts when your new sister-in-law sneaks up and taps you on the shoulder. “Hey… You don’t look like you’re having much fun. Are you okay?” 

Natasha asks the question with a sheepish grin. You can tell she’s trying to seem nonchalant, but you can hear the underlying concern in her voice. 

Bradley and Natasha had been together five years now, engaged for one, and you could clearly see from the way that he smiled at her and the permanent glimmer in his eyes, that your brother was truly happy. He and Phoenix had become fast friends during their time together at Top Gun, and it eventually evolved into something more.

When Bradley brought Natasha home to meet you at Thanksgiving during your sophomore year of college, you knew even then that she would be the girl he was one day going to marry. Best friends turned lovers. You could only dream you’d find that for yourself someday.

You and Natasha had quickly become close as well. Bradley and Uncle Mav were the only family you had and it was nice to have another person–especially a badass woman like Natasha, in your corner. 

The two of you got on like a house on fire, and Natasha was always there to give her love and support. She was like the big sister you never had, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ganging up on your brother and teasing him together.

As Natasha’s maid of honor, you’d spent the morning with her and the other bridesmaids, helping the blushing bride get ready for her big day. In a fancy suite getting all dolled up while drinking mimosas, having your hair and makeup done before changing into matching bridesmaid dresses of a silky satin—cowl neckline and spaghetti straps, in a soft lavender shade. Helping Natasha into her beautiful, intricately lacy, white wedding gown.

The wedding ceremony was absolutely beautiful and had gone off without a hitch. Bradley had tears in his eyes as Natasha walked down the aisle to the Wedding March, matching smiles on their faces as they joined hands at the altar. 

You even shed a tear yourself as the couple exchanged their vows, and before you knew it, Bradley was pulling Natasha in for a loving kiss and they were declared husband and wife.

Then, onto the reception, you’d watched with a slightly sad smile as Bradley and Natasha shared their first dance as husband and wife. You were so happy for the two of them, truly, but it was hard to get into the headspace for celebrating. Seeing two of your favorite people so in love when you’d just been dumped. When your own love life was at a standstill and you were left feeling lost and lonely.

You’d been too preoccupied in your thoughts to notice the first dance had come to an end before Nat came to talk to you. You felt guilty at the fact that she was spending her time worrying about you when she should be enjoying her big day. You’re lucky to call Natasha your sister.

So, you force your most convincing smile onto your face and nod your head, telling her that you’re just fine.

“Just tired from the long day, but I’m having a great time. I’m good, I promise!” You weren’t sure if she believed you, but luckily Natasha was pulled away by one of her aunts gushing over how beautiful she looked and offering her congratulations, before she could protest.

It’s especially hard to enjoy a wedding reception when you’re sat at a table alone, watching as everyone else is having a good time, dancing along to the music being played by the DJ. 

Once the first dance was through, the rest of the guests were welcomed to join the happy couple on the dancefloor. You knew your brother had plenty of cute pilot friends, and you also knew–thanks to Natasha–that some of them were single. So, you were hoping that one of them might ask you to dance.

You may have also been hopeful for the possibility of getting laid tonight. You were newly single but even then, it’d been months since you and your ex last had sex. You were sad and lonely and thought, what better way to get back out there and help yourself feel better than hooking up with one of said cute pilots? 

Your plan, however, seemed futile because none of the guys would even talk to you. In fact, since Bradley had introduced you to them after the ceremony earlier in the day, his fellow pilots could hardly look you in the eye.

“Guys, this is my little sister.” With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, your brother had rattled off each of the naval aviators’ names and callsigns, and told his friends your name. They were all nice enough, each politely shaking your hand and making small talk, a few of them making jokes at your big brother’s expense.

But you could sense there was an awkwardness there, almost as if the members of the Dagger squad were afraid of you. You couldn’t understand why, but you could tell they were hesitant to keep the conversation going with you.

Initially, you brushed it off. However, as the day went on, whenever you’d find yourself alone in conversation with one of the Top Gun pilots, they each kept the interactions very short and sweet, acting as though they couldn’t get away from you fast enough. Leaving you feeling unsure of yourself and wondering what you could have possibly done to have them all so blatantly avoiding you. 

So, after sharing a dance with your dear Uncle Mav and relinquishing him back into the awaiting arms of Penny, you spend the next half hour moping at the table on your own. Absent-mindedly swirling the straw around in your drink, chin resting in your other hand as you watch the festivities going on around you. 

And that’s how Jake finds you.

You were adorable. With your sparkling eyes and your hair pinned up into some intricate up-do that Jake wanted to see undone, a few pieces flowing down and framing your face. The hint of cleavage Jake could see beneath the cowl neckline of that lavender dress that hugged your curves so well as you leaned forward against the table, a slight pout on your lips as you observed everyone having fun on the dancefloor.

Jake could tell that you weren’t having a good time and he knew exactly why. 

Little did you know that earlier that morning while Bradley and his groomsmen were getting ready in a suite separate from the girls, your brother had had a “talk” with all the guys.

Debriefing about last night’s rehearsal dinner, Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy–all of the single groomsmen–had been discussing a few of Natasha’s bridesmaids that they thought were cute. Especially the maid of honor. 

Rooster’s ears had been ringing when he heard them describe you to a T, and Jake could practically see smoke coming out of them as he turned toward his friends, always the overprotective big brother ready to shut them down.

“The maid of honor,” all of the groomsmen turned to look at the mustached groom as he began to speak.

“Is my little sister. And she’s off limits.” At his words and the stern, serious tone of Bradley’s voice, Jake and the others collectively shut up, matching caught-out and shocked expressions on each of their faces.

“I mean it, guys, I don’t wanna see any of you hitting on her. I love you all like my brothers, but I’m not afraid to kick someone’s ass if I see you trying it on with my sister.”

The guys all knew that Rooster wasn’t bluffing. With rushed apologies and confirmations that they’d leave you alone, the tension left the room as they all laughed it off and went about their business getting ready for the ceremony. 

With Bradley’s warning in mind, the Dagger squad had spent the rest of the day being nice—but not too nice—whenever they spoke to you, and tried to keep their interactions with you to a minimum, so as not to face your older brother’s wrath.

They all knew that Bradley could be a bit hotheaded. Even Bob, who is very happily married, found himself a little afraid to spend too much time conversing with you.

Jake was ready to follow the rules too, it was Bradshaw’s wedding after all. He could hold off on pissing off his best frenemy for one night. At least that was the case, until the reception. 

When he saw you sitting all alone, all gorgeous and sulking, Jake knew right then that he had to go talk to you. He knew he was the only one stupid enough—or brave enough, if you ask him—to go against your brother’s wishes, and who was Jake if he wasn’t stirring the pot?

Was it so wrong for him to help a pretty lady have a good time? And you were beautiful, strikingly so, so Jake wouldn’t mind if he got a little something out of it too. 

Jake isn’t scared of your brother. Besides, Rooster is far too busy dancing with Phoenix, the newlywed couple far too preoccupied with making heart-eyes at each other to notice him making his way over to you.

Your eyes widen with intrigue as the tall, blonde pilot—Jake, or Hangman as he’d been introduced to you—sidles over to where you’re seated. 

God, was he handsome. You sit up a little straighter as he plonks himself down in the chair next to you, a devilish smirk on his lips as he turns toward you. 

“What is a pretty little thing like you doing sitting here all on her lonesome?” He inquires, a slight Southern drawl to his voice. Texan, maybe?

“Um… drinking?” Your answer is short, but you’re a bit caught off guard and still annoyed by the fact that all of your attempts at socializing tonight with anyone outside of the few members of your family and Phoenix, had failed. 

But now, here was Hangman, going out of his way to talk to you and looking you straight in your eyes. His green gaze intense and leaving you a bit flustered. 

Jake glances down to where you’re still toying with the straw in your near-empty glass. With that playful smirk still present on his face, he goes to speak again.

“Well, darlin’, I cannot in good conscience let you drink alone. What are you drinking and how ‘bout I buy you another one?” His question makes you scoff. 

“Tequila Sunrise, and it’s an open bar, so… no, you can’t buy me a drink.” You roll your eyes at the almost too handsome pilot. 

Oh. Pretty and feisty. Jake was going to have a hard time staying away from you.

“Well then, how about I acquire you another one, and because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll even join you?” Jake winks at you and stands, striding towards the bar before you could even answer his question. 

Your brother and Natasha had mentioned Hangman to you a handful times over the years, and he was just as cocky and self-assured as they always said. But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you don’t find it kind of charming, or that you aren’t extremely attracted to him.

Jake returns a couple minutes later, a Tequila Sunrise in one hand and a glass of what looked to be whiskey in the other. He places your drink down in front of you and slides back into the chair next to yours, albeit a few inches closer this time.

“You know, you look pretty miserable over here. Though, I guess I would be too if I had to grow up with Rooster as my brother.” That draws a genuine laugh out of you.

“There she is!” His exclamation makes you giggle, a slight blush taking over your cheeks. Jake loves the sight of your smile. The sound of your laugh. He decides that he wants to hear that sound over and over again.

“He’s not so bad.” You refute through your laughter.

“I just don’t really know many people here, and I kind of get the feeling my brother and Nat’s friends don’t like me very much. I’m not sure why…” You trail off and look down at your lap, shy all of a sudden. Jake has to fight very hard to not smile at how adorable your furrowed brows and pouted lips are.

“You’re the first person here to actually talk to me for more than two seconds.” You let out a nervous laugh and start sipping your new drink.

Jake feels bad that your dumbass brother’s plan to keep the guys away from you is the reason you’re feeling so down, without you even knowing. And no matter how cute you may look, Jake doesn’t like seeing you sad. He’s going to rectify that.

“Well darlin’, now that I’m here, you don’t need to talk to anyone else.” Jake’s smile is still smug, but sincere, and you can’t help but grin back at him. You shake your head and giggle at the cocky pilot, thinking to yourself that it wouldn’t be so bad if he were the only person you had to talk to for the rest of the night.

“Now, how about we finish these drinks and then we head out onto the dancefloor?” To that, you agree, and the two of you sit sipping your drinks and talking for a little while. Getting better acquainted. Jake is fun and very charming, and you love how easily he’s able to make you laugh.

When Jake notices that you’re just about done with your tequila sunrise, he quickly shoots back the rest of his whiskey, ready to get you onto the dancefloor. He stands and you accept the hand he’s extended toward you, his large hand engulfing your smaller one and letting him lead you into the crowd of people. 

Standing in front of him now, you only just notice how good Jake looks in his suit. It’s a simple black suit, white undershirt and black tie, like all the groomsmen wore. But the way it fits his body, the way the jacket sleeves are ever-so-slightly too tight around his big arms, and the way you could tell he was extremely toned even under layers of clothing, made you dizzy.

As you make it onto the floor, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Everywhere’ begins to play through the speakers. Jake pulls you in close to him by your joined hands and spins you around under his arm. The two of you laugh, both a little tipsy. 

You spend the duration of the song dancing together like children without a care in the world. Not much rhythm to it or any real dance moves, mostly just jumping around and singing along to the lyrics, Jake twirling you around a good number of times. You’re sure that the two of you look like idiots, but it’s the most fun you’ve had all night.

You dance together to a couple more upbeat songs, and Jake can’t help but admire you. He finds it incredibly sexy how carefree you seem in this moment.

As another classic rock song comes to an end and a slower song takes its place, Jake pulls you in again. This time by the waist, until you’re nearly chest-to-chest. The warmth of his hands setting your skin alight through the thin, satiny fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress. 

Your own hands slide up his biceps, coming to rest on his broad shoulders. You look up at him with those bright, beautiful eyes and a shy smile, and Jake finds himself entranced. 

God, he wants to kiss you.  

You rest your head on his chest as he begins to sway you softly along to the music. As if Jake can feel eyes burning into the side of his face, he turns the two of you slightly, only to find Rooster glaring at him as he stands across the dancefloor, slow dancing with Phoenix.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Bradley quietly asks, mostly to himself, but the question catches his wife’s attention. 

“What is who doing?” Natasha queries with a laugh as she turns to look at where Bradley’s hard gaze is pointed.

“Aw, maybe Bagman does have a heart.” Her lips form into an exaggerated pout as she watches Jake and you sway from side to side as he holds you in his arms, your head leaning on his chest. Bradley looks down at her with a bewildered look on his face.

“No, that is most definitely not AW, and no he doesn’t!” He grouches with a sigh. Natasha gives him a questioning glance, waiting expectantly for whatever the hell it is she’s missing right now.

“I told those idiots to stay away from her.” Bradley mutters dejectedly.

“What are you talking about, told who to stay away from who?” Natasha narrows her eyes at her husband.

“Jake and the rest of the squad. I overheard them talking about how hot they thought my sister was, and I told them to leave her alone.” Bradley whines.

Natasha stays silent for a few moments, processing this information and looking up at her husband with a stunned expression.

“Oh, honey…” She can’t help but laugh. Now she understands why you’d spent much of the evening sulking.

“What?!” Bradley practically shrieks. “She’s my baby sister, I just wanna protect her!”

At that, Natasha cracks a smile. She’s always admired how much Rooster loves his little sister and how, with your parents gone, he always felt it was his responsibility to take care of you. 

“Bradley, I love you, but you really are an idiot sometimes.” Natasha grins, shaking her head at her husband. The look he gives her is dumbfounded and one of slight offense.

“Babe, I get that you want to protect your sister, but she’s not a kid anymore. She’s an adult and you have to let her make her own choices and her own mistakes. Even if one of those mistakes is Bagman.” Natasha scrunches her nose playfully and Bradley gives her a deadpan look. 

“You know she’d be pissed if she found out that you did that.” Natasha smirks, thinking back on a few of the silly sibling spats that she’s had to mediate over the last few years since she’s been with Bradley—most of them due entirely to his overprotective tendencies and your desire to escape them. 

“Come on, Roo, you know I’m right.” Bradley rolls his eyes dramatically and sighs, wrapping his arms around his bride. 

“Yeah, you always are. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He places a kiss on her forehead, and murmurs against her skin. “But if he hurts her, I’ll kill him.” 

Bradley glares in Jake’s direction once again.

Jake can also feel the eyes of the other Top Gun pilots on the two of you. They’ve all just witnessed the interaction and look between him and Rooster, some looking on in amusement, others in fear for Jake's safety.

Jake has to bite back a laugh, leaning his head down on top of yours to hide the cheeky smile that plays on his lips. The two of you slow dance a little while longer, Jake’s hands rubbing gently up and down your sides and sending your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies.

Jake decides he’d like a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. His hands leave your torso, moving to rest on your arms, giving them a light squeeze to gain your attention. The hazy, content look on your pretty face when you look up at him only strengthens his desire to be alone with you. Fuck, he wants you.

“Come with me?” Jake leans down to whisper into your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. When he pulls back, you look up to see his emerald eyes boring into you, and you simply nod.

You aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re pretty certain you’d follow him anywhere. He grabs your hand and spares a last glance at your still glaring brother, smirking as he leads you to the exit of the ballroom. 

Before you can make it past the threshold though, Jake comes to an abrupt stop and lets go of your hand.

“One second.” He quickly breathes out, leaving you standing by the door as he darts back over the bar.

You’re confused for a moment, but you can’t help but giggle to yourself as you watch him look around to make sure no one is watching before he reaches behind the bar, grabbing an unopened bottle of champagne. 

He sprints back over to you, once again taking your hand in his free one and speeding out into the hallway, pulling you along with him. You’re unable to keep from laughing, near breathless as you try to keep up with Jake’s long strides in your high heels.

When he finds a dark, empty room towards the back of the venue hall, Jake pulls you inside with him and closes the door. Before you know it, your back is pressed against it, hitting the hard wood with a thud as Jake crashes his lips against yours, kissing you breathless.

Catching your plush bottom lip between both of his, one of his hands finds your waist in the dark, the other still holding onto the neck of the champagne bottle. You kiss him back with just as much fervor, reaching a hand up into Jake’s blonde hair and tugging lightly, pulling a soft groan from him. 

The two of you move in sync, lips pressing together at an increasing speed and intensity until your lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen. Jake pulls back for some air and both of your chests are heaving, light pants escaping your lips as you stare at each other in the dark of the room.

When you look down and catch a glimpse of the bottle still in Jake’s grasp, you let out a breathless chuckle.

“You forgot the glasses.” 

He follows your gaze and laughs along with you, though it comes out as more of a pant.

“Shit, yeah. Maybe we can find some in here, if I can just find a light…” Jake trails off, his body leaving your personal space and pulling the warmth of him along with it. You’re left standing by the door, feeling cold and already missing his presence and his weight against you as he goes off in search of the lights. 

It’s a quick search, after about only 30 seconds, Jake finds a lamp on a table in the corner of the room. He switches it on, casting the room in a soft, dim golden light.

No longer bathed in darkness, you now see that the room you ended up in is another suite like the ones the bridal party had used to get ready that morning. A couple of fancy olive green velvet couches spread throughout the space, a few vanity mirrors along the far wall, a door leading to a bathroom at the back. 

You take a seat on one of the lavish couches and remove your heels, feet aching a bit after the long day. You pull your legs up onto the couch as Jake goes on the hunt for champagne glasses. After a brief and unsuccessful search, Jake joins you on the couch.

“No luck.” His playful pout makes you giggle as he plops down onto the cushion next to you. 

“Fuck it!” Jake exclaims as he turns the champagne bottle away from you to open it, a small gasp escaping your lips as he sends the cork flying somewhere across the room. 

He hands the bottle over to you with a grin.

“Ladies first.” And there’s that wink again. As you take a swig from the bottle, Jake pulls your feet up into his lap, and you nearly choke on the fizzy liquid in surprise when his fingers begin to massage your calves. Once the initial shock wears off, you can’t stop the contented sigh that escapes your lips at the feeling. 

When you’ve taken a few sips, you hand the bottle back over to Jake, fingers brushing as he takes it from your grasp. His eyes remain on your face as he takes a big swig of the champagne and you can feel a blush beginning to heat up your face. 

Setting the bottle down on the floor, Jake tugs your legs closer to him again, this time pulling until you’re nearly sitting in his lap and drawing a little yelp from you. Your face is inches away from his and in the dim lamplight you can see that his eyes are blown wide, mostly black with only a hint of that pretty green visible.

Jake reaches a hand toward the back of your neck, gently running his fingers between your shoulder blades and down your upper back, bare due to the low backing of your dress. Grazing your skin with a featherlight touch before curling his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulling you in to kiss him again. 

The taste of champagne is prevalent as Jake attaches his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your waist to help guide you fully onto his lap. Your own hands slide along his chest over the soft fabric of his suit jacket and up to his broad shoulders, fingers gripping lightly at the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Your lips move softly against his, finding a rhythm and allowing yourself to get lost in it.

Jake’s hands squeeze at your waist, thumbs just barely grazing the underside of your breasts through your dress as he deepens the kiss. Pulling you impossibly closer as he nips at your bottom lip, eliciting a quiet whine from you. His tongue tracks along the seam of your lips and you’re quick to part them for him, allowing his tongue to work softly against yours.

You and Jake relish in the taste of one another mixed with the sweetness of the bubbly alcohol, your movements becoming more fervent. Your head grows dizzy as Jake groans into your mouth when your fingers gently tug at the hair at his nape.

Jake feels his cock twitch in his pants when he pulls away and sees your hazy expression, all hooded lids and kiss-swollen lips. He presses a trail of sweet kisses to your jaw and chin, working his way down to your neck. His nose grazes the column of your throat, inhaling the sweet, flowery scent of your perfume.

Your head tilts back on a quiet moan, granting Jake more access as his mouth begins to work at the side of your neck. Sucking and biting at the soft skin, teeth sure enough to leave a mark. With your hands still in his hair, you pull Jake back up to your lips, kissing him ardently as your hips involuntarily rut against the growing bulge in his trousers.

You both moan at the friction as Jake’s hand moves to cup your cheek, fingers tangling in your intricately styled hair. As his tongue glides against yours, you feel him begin to pull at the pins, loosening your hair from its confines until it flows freely around your shoulders. He pulls back from the kiss to look at you with a look that screams pure lust.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Jake breathes as he runs a hand through your silky locks. Since he first laid eyes on you, he’d wondered how you’d look with your hair all messy and free, your perfect little up-do unraveled. And fuck, does he like what he sees.

With a newfound sense of need, you reattach your lips to Jake’s, sliding your tongue into his mouth as your hands begin to push the suit jacket off of his shoulders. He shrugs it the rest of the way off, letting out a whispered ‘fuck’ as your lips trail down his sharp jawline to his neck as your nimble fingers begin to work on untying his tie, and straight to unbuttoning his dress shirt after that.

When his upper half is free of clothes, you tease soft, barely-there kisses along Jake’s shoulders and the hard plains of his chest. Eager to touch more of your skin, Jake’s hands make their way down to your thighs, changing positions to pull you underneath him on the velvet couch, your legs wrapped around his hips. He sits up and runs an index finger lightly under the thin strap of your dress.

“Can I?” You nod fervently in response to his question and Jake gently pushes the straps off of your shoulders.

You sit up and Jake pecks your lips, his hands moving behind you to unzip the top of your dress. The soft satin falls down around your torso, revealing a strapless lacy bra that matches the pastel purple of your dress. His hands reach again behind your back, making quick work of unclasping your bra to reveal your perfect, supple breasts.

Jake takes a moment to admire the beautiful picture that’s in front of him before he leans down to kiss at your chest. His lips work softly at the swell of your breast, thumb and index finger coming to pinch at one nipple while his mouth engulfs the other. The moan it pulls from you is music to Jake’s ears.

Your fingers tangle in his hair once again as his tongue swirls your nipple, quiet whimpers escaping you as he kisses and suckles at the skin. His mouth travels to your other breast, leaving a trail of kisses along the way before sucking the bud between his lips, tongue working softly at it until it forms a hardened peak.

Satisfied with his work, Jake grazes his teeth against your nipple, evoking a breathy gasp from you and a tug on his hair as he nips at the sensitive bud before releasing it. You feel a gush of arousal at your core as his mouth starts to trail lower down your torso. Kissing softly at your sternum, your ribcage, and just above your navel.

Goosebumps form along your skin as Jake lowers himself down on the couch, strong hands gliding up the sides of your thighs. Pushing the silky fabric of your dress along with them until it’s bunched up at the middle of your torso, revealing pretty, sheer lace panties that you’re sure are probably soaked through.

Jake presses a kiss to your hip bone, looking up at you with wild eyes awaiting your permission. You swallow hard, nodding your head frantically. You need him to touch you before you go insane.

“Please, Jake,” You hardly recognize the breathless, whiny voice that comes out of your mouth. “Need you.”

Jake runs a finger along your slit over the damp fabric of your panties, your desperate, breathy cries painting a smirk on his lips. He doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He teasingly bumps his finger into your clit just to hear you whine before his fingers grip onto your waistband, pulling the lacy fabric torturously slow down your thighs. He sits back on his knees, pressing a kiss to your knee as he helps get your underwear the rest of the way down your legs.

When they fall to the floor, Jake repositions himself on the couch between your thighs, lifting one of them over his shoulder. His lips make a trail up the inside of your thigh, kissing and nipping at the soft skin and enjoying the way your breath catches as he inches closer to where you need him most, before ultimately moving back and starting again on the other thigh. Your fingers tug at his roots, chest breathless and heaving as you wait for Jake to just do something.

You moan out loudly in surprise as your wish is granted, Jake’s tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds. Your fingers tighten in his hair when he presses a kiss to your clit. He pulls back for a moment and just stares at your cunt, pretty and glistening just for him. 

You’d be embarrassed at the attention if it weren’t for the look of complete awe on his gorgeous face as he gazes at your core. His tongue glides through your folds again, collecting your arousal.

“Mm, so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just like you.” And with that, Jake sucks your clit between his lips, drawing a loud cry from your lips as he applies a firm pressure. He alternates between suckling the sensitive bud and dipping his tongue into your hole, tasting the wetness that continues to flow at his ministrations.

As his lips wrap around your clit once more, you feel one of Jake’s fingers begin to tease at your entrance. Gathering the wetness there before the digit enters you, he lets out a low groan as you clench around it. He works his finger in and out, adding in a second to help stretch you out and get you ready for his cock.

Jake can hear your soft whimpers and heavy breathing, he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers even tighter as he prods at that spongy spot inside of you and he knows that you’re close.

“Gonna come for me, Sweets? You gonna come all over my tongue?” Jake implores with a teasing smirk before he dives back in, tongue replacing his fingers and licking into you.

“Fuck, please, Ja- OHH!” Your plea is cut short as his fingers pinch at your clit once more. Rubbing tight circles in time with his tongue that’s fucking in and out your hole. Jake’s fingers quicken their pace, pressing firmly against your sensitive bud while he devours you, and you fall over the edge with a sharp cry that borders on being a scream.

“So fucking good for me.” Jake mutters against your center, his tongue lapping up your release while his fingers still gently swirl your clit and work you through your orgasm. He licks up every bit of your sweetness, rutting his hips against the velvety couch cushion to gain some friction on his still-clothed cock that strains under the fabric of his pants, as he watches you writhe under his tongue, hands tugging at his roots hard as your loud cries turn into soft whimpers.

Jake only lets up when your shaky hand tries to push his head away from your center, the pleasure becoming too much. Leaving one final kiss to your inner thigh, he pulls back, lips and chin glistening with your release.

You tug at Jake’s hair again, guiding his head back up to be level with yours. You pull him into a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands travel down to unbuckle Jake’s belt and open the button of his trousers, one hand dipping into the waistband to cup him over his boxers. 

Jake grunts above you as you palm at his hard length, his own hands reaching down to help you remove his pants.

Only able to get them about halfway down his legs from his position hovering over you, Jake pulls back and stands from the couch. He pulls his dress pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, his cock long and hard, the tip red and dripping with precum.

Before he can return to his previous position kneeling above you, you too stand up, pushing Jake back onto the couch in a seated position.

“Wha- where ya goin’, darling?” Jake questions you with a breathless chuckle, a bit surprised by the moment of dominance from you. As you drop to your knees in front of him though, he starts to get the hint.

“Just wanna return the favor.” You say it sweetly, giving him your best doe eyes. Jake’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, caressing the skin softly and letting out a desperate groan as you position yourself between his thick thighs.

You trail your nails along the skin of his thighs, leaving light pink marks in your wake as you tease your way to the apex of his thighs. When you finally wrap your hand around him, you feel Jake’s cock twitch in your grasp and look up at him with a sweet smile. 

Minx. Jake swears he could cum right then and there.

Your hand rubs along the base of Jake’s cock and up to his tip, collecting the precum dribbling from his slit and dragging it down his length to aid in your movements. Your grip tightens around him just slightly, and you enjoy the desperate sound he makes as you lean down to place a kiss to his weeping tip.

Hand still cupping your cheek, Jake’s fingers move into your hair as you kitten lick at his tip before taking him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around the ridge of his head, sucking softly and moving further down onto his length. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can, eagerly sucking his shaft and using your hand to rub what you can’t fit.

Your fingers move to grip one of Jake’s strong thighs as you take him as far down your throat as you possibly can, blinking up at him with wide doe eyes. Your cheeks suction around his length and Jake chokes on a loud moan, his fingers tightening in your hair when his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, fuck.” He gently pulls you off of him with a groan, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen pink lips to the head of his cock. Jake knew he was getting close and he didn’t want to finish before feeling your sweet cunt wrapped around him.

“Need to be inside you, darlin’.” Jake practically begs as he pulls you up to your feet. He finishes unzipping your dress that’s still hanging down around your middle the rest of the way, watching the fabric pool around your feet before guiding you to sit atop his thighs. Fully naked and secure in his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lead Jake into another fiery kiss.

“Need you, Jake.” You breathe against his lips, noses rubbing together as you nod your head against him. 

You grind your hips down against his in an effort to convey your need. Jake’s hand reaches down to grip his cock, running it along your soaked folds and bumping your clit with his tip, teasing you both as you moan against each other’s lips.

“Shit… I don’t have a condom.” Jake realizes, voice sounding defeated as he looks down and  watches the head of his cock tease at your clit once more.

“Fuck.” The word comes out of your mouth as a whine. 

Fuck was right. All that hoping and planning to get lucky tonight, and you hadn’t had the forethought to bring protection? Whoops.

Lucky for you, you’d been on the pill for a couple of years now, having started taking it when you were with your ex. You place a gentle kiss to Jake’s cheek before pulling back to look in his eyes as you speak.

“I’m on the pill. And I haven’t been with anyone in a while, so… I’m good.” You chuckle sheepishly, brows furrowing slightly as you wait for Jake’s response.

Jake nods his head eagerly. “Fuck-yeah, I’m all good too! If you’re sure…” he wants to be sure that you’re comfortable.

He can’t help but grin as you nod your head just as eagerly, but that grin is quickly wiped off Jake’s face.

Your brother can never find out about this… Rooster would actually kill him. It’s bad enough that he’s sleeping with Bradley’s little sister on his wedding day, let alone without protection.

It’s an afterthought that Jake realizes he must’ve accidentally spoken aloud, as the giggles that erupt from you in response to the words spoken under his breath hit his ears.

“Yes.” You plant a kiss on his jaw. “I’m sure, Jake.” Another kiss. “Need you.” Your lips move to peck his hungrily.

His thoughts are immediately pulled away from Rooster and Jake couldn’t be happier. Not only does he get to be inside of you, but he gets to feel you wrapped around him with no barrier in between. 

Your blatant need for him only inflates Jake’s ego, and makes him impossibly harder. His hand cups the side of your neck, pressing his lips firmly to yours one more time before leaning back to look at you with a smug smirk.

“Go ahead. Take it, baby.” Jake drawls as he leans back, arms stretched along the back of the couch, his words have you clenching around nothing.

At his request, you lift your hips slightly, taking Jake’s hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance. He watches in awe as you sink down around his length slowly, the both of you hissing simultaneously. You at the stretch, and him the tightness of your walls enveloping him. 

Your hands hold onto Jake’s shoulders for support as you take him, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated inside of you. You both let out quiet curses at the feeling. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so full, but your slickness makes for easy movement once you get used to the stretch.

You lift your hips until just the tip of his cock is still inside of you, before slowly sinking back down and grinding your hips against his.

“Fuck. Feel so good, darlin.” Jake groans as your muscles clench around him and you let out a quiet whimper in response.

You bury your face in the crook of Jake’s neck as you begin to ride him, moving up and down his length as your hips work to find a rhythm. Jake groans as you begin to pick up the pace, his hands moving to your hips to help guide your movements.

When you’ve found a good rhythm, Jake plants his feet firmly on the floor beneath him and begins to thrust up into you. Pulling your hips firmly against his with every thrust, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you cry out in ecstasy.

The soft whimpers you let out against the skin of his neck are driving Jake’s movements, the sweet, open-mouthed kisses littered against the column of his throat spurring him on. He grunts as your walls tighten around him in a vice-like grip on a particularly hard thrust. 

Jake can tell you’re getting tired as your thighs begin to tremble over his, hips stuttering and losing their tempo as you rise and sink yourself down on his cock.

His hands wrap around your thighs, lifting you off of him and you whine in protest at the loss of the fullness of him. With you still hovering over his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, Jake easily flips the two of you over, gently placing you so that you’re lying back on the velvety couch. He hovers over you, knees digging into the cushions and he leans down to attach his lips to yours as he lines up with your entrance again.

You moan into the kiss as Jake bottoms out inside of you, your velvety walls welcoming him in with ease. Jake lifts one of your thighs around his hips, your leg going to wrap around his back automatically as he plows into you, the head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you again and it has you seeing stars.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, Jake’s soft grunts and your blissful cries mingling together. Skin slapping against skin as Jake drives into you, the sound of your growing wetness as his cock moves in and out at a rapid pace. Jake leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth as he fucks you, nipping lightly at the skin.

“Jake…fuck! Please…” You’re babbling almost incoherently, the fucked-out look on your face sending Jake into a frenzy.

“I’ve got you, honey. Want you to come for me.” He mumbles against the skin of your chest as he continues to fuck you, one hand gripping onto the top of the couch for support.

He can sense you’re getting close and he applies a firm thumb to your clit, the pressure willing another moan from deep within you. Your fingers lock onto the strands of his hair as his fingers begin to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Jake quickens the pace of his thrusts, and his hand moves to grab the leg that’s wrapped around his waist, instead pushing your knee up to your chest so he can plunge into you deeper. The new angle combined with the consistent pressure on your clit has you screaming out, and you pray that no one walks down the hall past this room right now because they’d definitely hear you.

The sensation of Jake’s thumb and forefinger harshly pinching your clit sends you over the edge, a loud, broken cry escaping your throat as he fucks you through it. His length continues to move in and out of you, hips never slowing their pace. The overstimulation leaves you a whimpering mess, nails clawing into Jake’s shoulder as he searches for his own high.

Jake is nearing his end too, the tightness of your walls constricting around his cock as you writhe and whimper underneath him makes his hips stutter as he slams into you. With a few more thrusts, he reaches his peak with a deep groan. His warm, sticky release coating your walls and you sigh blissfully at the feeling. Jake’s hips slow, not stopping fully until he’s spent, wanting to fill you up with every last drop of his cum.

Once he’s sure that you’ve milked him of every last bit, Jake pulls out of you gently and you whimper at the feeling. Missing the fullness of him already, a sigh escapes your lips as a mixture of his release and yours begins to dribble out between your thighs.

Jake moves to flip the two of you over so that you’re lying on top of him, your head resting upon his chest. You can feel his still-fast heartbeat against your ear, getting slower by the minute as he recovers from his high. 

Your own heart is racing too and your mind is hazy as you wind down, you’re not sure that anyone has ever fucked you so good. Jake’s arms wrap around you, one hand reaching up into your hair and gently massaging your scalp as the other softly rubs at the skin of your back.

The two of you lay there for a while, cuddling and quietly talking about everything and nothing. Sharing details about yourselves, wanting to get to know each other a little better. 

At some point, you pick up the bottle of champagne from the floor again, still resting on Jake’s chest as you pass it back and forth. Taking sips, both of you pleasantly buzzed—from both the alcohol and the orgasms—as you talk about your jobs, your families, anything and everything that comes to mind.

Eventually, the topic of discussion turns to the events of the day and the wedding, and Jake has you giggling as he makes some joke at your brother’s expense. 

Spending time with Jake is easy. You feel giddy, yet comfortable in his embrace and his cocky-but-charming personality hasn’t failed yet to make you smile.

“Maybe we should get married.” The sarcastic tone of Jake’s voice lets you know he’s obviously joking, but his words still have you lifting your head from his bare chest to look up at him, a bit bemused.

“It would make my entire life to see the look on Rooster’s face when he has to tell people that I’m his brother-in-law.” Jake continues, looking down at you with that signature smirk, the mischievous mirth in his eyes eliciting a giggle from you.

Even though he doesn’t know you very well yet, Jake can’t help but think it might actually be pretty nice to be married to someone like you. Sweet, funny, beautiful–and Jake finds he really enjoys spending time with you.

“Yeah, I’d pay good money to see that.” You agree, your body being gently bounced around with the movement of Jake’s chest beneath you as he joins you in your laughter.

“Ok, so I know it’s a little soon for marriage, but I would like to take you out.” For the first time since you met him earlier that day, Jake actually seems a bit… nervous? The smile on his face is a bashful one and you find it’s adorable. From the stories your brother had told about the cocky pilot, you never would’ve thought you’d find him so endearing.

“Like… in the murdering sense?” You try to alleviate his nerves with a bit of humor and Jake’s subsequent deadpan stare has you giggling again. You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw. He pretends to be annoyed by your antics, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“On a date.” He drawls with a dramatic eye roll. You suck in a breath and plaster a pensive look on your face, pretending for a moment like you actually need to think about his offer. You exhale with an exaggerated sigh.

“Ok.” Your arms tighten around Jake’s torso and you press a kiss to his chest.

“Yeah?” Jake tries to keep his cool, but he has a hard time hiding the excitement in his voice. He knows you can probably feel the way his heart has sped up beneath your cheek that’s resting against his skin too.

“Yes. I’d love to go out with you.” You lift your head to gaze up at him once more, trying to bite back your grin. But Jake’s thumb reaches up to release your bottom lip from between your teeth, gently running over the tender skin as he gazes down at you with those glittering green eyes. Yeah, you could get used to that.

The two of you stay wrapped up together on the sofa a little while longer, still talking quietly so as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the ambiently-lit suite. You’re still lying on Jake’s chest, your legs intertwined with his, lulled into a hazy state of comfort as one of his hands lightly runs through your hair, lazily twirling the locks around his finger. His other hand is softly tracing patterns onto the bare skin of your back.

You and Jake have been gone a long while now, and you know if you don’t return to the party soon, Bradley is going to come looking for you. Deciding you’d rather not have your brother find you in such a compromising position with one of his friends, you begrudgingly lift your head from Jake’s chest.

“We should probably head back out there.” You say with little enthusiasm. “My brother’s gonna think you kidnapped me and send out a search party.” 

You grumble, pouting as Jake’s hand lightly caresses over your hair. Cute. 

He laughs at your sour expression and hums in agreement, sitting up on the couch. The movement of his body taking you with him as you’re still wrapped around him.

Jake ponders if he should maybe tell you about Bradley warning all of the men at his wedding away from you—but ultimately decides against it as you seem so content, so at ease with him. He didn’t want to ruin your good mood or cause problems between you and your brother. And, he really likes you. He doesn’t want to fuck this up.

Maybe he’d tell you one day when Bradley is really pissing him off, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

Jake helps you to your feet before standing up himself and stepping back into his boxers. He tells you to wait a moment while he runs into the bathroom that’s at the back of the room. 

While you’re in the midst of securely clasping your bra back over your chest, Jake returns with a damp cloth, kneeling down to gently clean up his cum that’s now dried down the inside of your thighs, leaving a soft kiss to the skin of your hip. 

Once you’re all cleaned up, Jake helps you step into your lace underwear, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder for balance as your legs still feel a bit like Jell-O after the earth-shattering orgasms he had given you.

He stands to help you back into your bridesmaid’s dress, leaning down to place featherlight kisses to your shoulder blades as he closes up the zipper. Jake even helps smooth down your hair—surely a mess from your earlier activities and his hands running through it—leaving a chaste kiss to your lips before he moves to re-dress himself. This time forgoing his tie in favor of stuffing it into his pocket. 

With your heels strapped around your ankles once more, you let Jake lead you out of the suite. Your hand joined with his and your cheek resting against his shoulder as you navigate your way, side by side, back to the ballroom. 

When you reach the double doors, you tug at Jake’s hand to stop him before he can open them. The blonde’s cute, inquisitive look reminds you of a golden retriever puppy and it makes your heart flutter. You reach up to cup his cheeks, pulling him in for a brief, but passionate kiss.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to do that again.” You tell him with a nervous laugh and he lets out a satisfied groan.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Jake pulls you back in and you can feel the smirk on his lips as he attaches them to yours. The two of you spend the next few minutes just standing there, making out outside of the entrance to the ballroom. 

Mouths moving languidly together, and you don’t hesitate to grant Jake’s tongue access when it runs along the seam of your lips. Tongues swirling lazily around one another trying to memorize the taste. When you finally pull back, your lips are swollen, and both you and Jake are beaming.

The reception is coming to an end, and you make it back into the slowly emptying ballroom just in time to see the happy newlyweds making their rounds about the room, accepting congratulations and thanking their guests for coming. 

As they come across you and Jake, Natasha is all smiles while Bradley’s expression drops into one of annoyance, his hazel-eyed glare directed at Jake. 

Never one to be intimidated by his best frenemy, Jake’s mouth forms into that distinctive smirk, extending the hand that wasn’t holding yours toward your brother.

“Congratulations, Rooster.” Jake speaks confidently. The two of them shake hands, not dissimilar to how they did after the success of the Uranium mission. Except this time, Bradley isn’t smiling.

By the happy look on your face and the fact that you’re not glaring at him—or trying to hit him—Bradley realizes that Jake must not have told you about his earlier warning to his groomsmen. Though he’s still annoyed with Jake for going against his wishes, he guesses that’s for the best. Maybe Natasha was right.

“Thanks, man.” Bradley’s face softens just barely. 

“But, just know, if you hurt my little sister, I won’t hesitate to shoot your plane out of the sky. We clear?” Your brother continues, still shaking Jake’s hand all the while. Natasha watches the whole exchange, trying not to laugh.

“Bradley-!” Eyes widening, you try to intercept but Jake stops you, giving your hand a light squeeze.

“No, no. It’s okay, Sweets.” You can hear the mirth in his voice when he says it, knowing he’s going to get a reaction out of Bradley.

“SWEETS?!” Your brother all but shrieks, ripping his hand away from Jake’s as if he’s been burned and Natasha is no longer able to hold back her laughter. The pouty glare he gives her in return ends up pulling a snicker out of you too. Jake chuckles haughtily and wraps an arm around your shoulders before addressing your brother again.

“I’m not gonna do anything to hurt her, Bradshaw. I promise. You have my word.” You smile sweetly up at Jake, delighted by his words. 

Your brother grumbles in agreement, recognizing the sincerity in his friend’s voice in that moment, before the two of them shake hands once more. Then, Jake offers the bride a hug and his congratulations, and tells you he’ll give you a moment with you brother, that he’ll be waiting for you by the exit.

With Jake making his exit, your brother’s face finally softens as he turns his attention to you. 

That is, until he glances down a bit and you know that he’s clocked the very obvious hickey blooming on the side of your neck when his expression hardens again. You can swear you see his eye twitch and you have to refrain from laughing. Luckily, for both of your sakes, he doesn’t bring it up.

Bradley just sighs before shaking his head. For the first time since the breakup, his little sister looks genuinely happy and if that’s the case, then he’s happy too.

“Hangman… really?” He scrunches his nose and at that, you simply shrug at him with an amused grin.

Your brother groans, “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t wanna know.”

“Deal.” The two of you share a laugh and Bradley pulls you into a tight bear-hug, which you return gratefully.

“Love you, sis.” He murmurs into the crown of your hair. “Love you too, Bradley.”

Natasha watches the sweet moment between her new husband and sister-in-law with a smile.

“I’m really happy for you, big bro. And so proud. Mom and Dad would be too.” Your arms tighten around him as you quietly deliver the sentiment.

You turn your gaze toward Natasha to let her know that you’re now addressing her as well. “Congratulations!”

When Bradley releases you from his embrace, Nat pulls you in for a hug as well. With that, they bid you goodnight and make your way back over to Jake who’s waiting for you by the ballroom doors.

Bradley opens his arm for his wife to step under, which Natasha does gladly, her own arm draping around Bradley’s waist as his moves to wrap around her shoulders. The couple watches on as you cross the room to reach the cockiest member of the Dagger squad.

“I actually think they’re kinda cute together.” Natasha’s tone is a jesting one, but there’s definitely some truth to her statement. Bradley just tilts his head up toward the ceiling, eyes clenched shut as he groans in response.

With the festivities coming to a close, you find yourself incredibly tired. After such a long day–and all the exertion with Jake that evening, you’re more than ready for a good night’s sleep. Fortunately for you, everyone was staying in the hotel at which the reception was held, so it wasn’t a long commute. 

Despite your increasing exhaustion though, you were reluctant to bid Jake goodnight.

“So… I guess, if you want, you could walk me to my room? Or…” You trail off, leaving the ball in his court. A tad nervous now, blinking up at him with a bright-eyed, hopeful expression, unsure if Jake will get the hint. 

But he definitely does, and the expectant look on your beautiful face makes him smile. What you don’t know is that Jake isn’t quite ready for his time with you tonight to come to an end either.

“Or… you could come back to mine?” He finishes the sentence for you, his grin morphing into more of a smirk, but his tone remains sincere. Placing your hands on his chest, you lean up to peck Jake’s lips.

“I’d love to.” You speak softly against his lips and Jake can feel you smiling. “Just don’t tell my brother.”

Your cheeky remark has Jake letting out a throaty chuckle, his breath warming your cheek before he briefly presses his lips to yours more firmly.

“How else am I gonna piss him off?” Jake jests and you retreat from the kiss, playfully smacking his chest. Shaking your head as the two of you share another laugh. His hands move to slide up the bare skin of your arms as you pull back and Jake can feel the goosebumps forming there.

He removes his suit jacket, leaving him in just his dress shirt, and carefully drapes it over your shoulders. The coat dwarfs your smaller frame, and Jake decides he loves the way you look all wrapped up in his clothes.

“Come on, Sweets. Let’s get you to bed.” Jake softly drawls. The look you give him is one of pure adoration as he takes your hand in his and leads you out into the halls of the hotel.

And though you’re most definitely tired, you have an inkling you’d be more than okay with spending a couple more hours wide awake with Jake when you get up to his room.

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Thank you for reading! x

Taglist: @sebsxphia @wkndwlff @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87

also tagging a few others who reblogged the sneak peek of this story:

@sunlightmurdock @rosiahills22 @gigisimsonmars @wildxwidow @sarkasfics @roosters-girl <3

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x female reader #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #top gun maverick #hangman seresin x you #glen powell #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin x y/n #jake x lil bradshaw #my writing

[cevansbrat0007]

New In Town

Summary: Introducing Chapter One of my Sweet Renegades Series. Sparks fly when you accidentally find yourself sitting next to Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Mentions of Death and Grief, Mentions of Book Boyfriends, Allusions to Disordered Eating, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Major thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me plot out this chapter. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It was happening again. You could feel him doing it. You knew without turning your head that the bastard had gone back to staring.

At you.

Gritting your teeth, you make a point of adjusting the skirt of your dress before returning your focus to Reverend Turner at the pulpit. Trying your best to ignore the hum of electricity in your veins, you find yourself wishing that you’d opted to stay home today. After all, you hadn’t been to church in ages. 

So what on earth possessed you to return today?

It’s not like you were concerned for your immortal soul or anything. On the contrary, you and God were good. You were even on speaking terms again – now that you’d finally forgiven him for calling your Uncle Leon home before you were ready to let him go.

That had been nearly three years ago.

These days, your grief has taken a backseat in favor of running the town’s only bookshop, Baubles & Quills. Once owned by your Uncle, the store had become your sanctuary as you’d struggled to cope with the loss of the only family you’d ever had. 

And now that you’d deemed life worth living again you’d apparently decided that attending Calvary Baptist Church’s Sunday morning service was a good idea. But the one thing you hadn’t counted on when you’d politely – and strategically – taken a seat in the pew closest to the door was that you’d end up sharing it with the likes of him.    

That bounty hunter fella that you’d been hearing about for the last week. His arrival had practically sent your little town into a regular feeding frenzy. Word on the street was that he was investigating something that had to do with your old high school pal, Martin Westbrook.

At least that’s what Charline Marshall had said when she’d stopped by your shop to return a book she’d purchased because she didn’t care for the ending. While you weren’t usually one for gossip, you’d been intrigued by her, ah, description of the handsome stranger that had taken up residence just a few blocks south of where you lived.

Two Days Ago…

“His name is Ari Levinson. Kinda strange, right?” She’d whispered conspiratorially, running a hand through her copper colored tresses . “But he’s a tall drink of water with the prettiest blue eyes I‘ve ever seen.”

“Oh really?” You’d mumbled, frowning at the crease that adorned the spine of the paperback book in your hands. Another one for the discount rack.

“Mhm. He’s handsome all over.” Charline had continued, picking up one of your more elaborate looking bookmarks and pretending to study it before using it to fan herself. “And not only that, but…” She’d leaned in then, allowing her freshly manicured nails lightly graze your arm. “I think he likes me.”

“Oh? Has he come out and said that?” Your eyes had gone wide with feigned interest. Because of course the man would be into Charline Anne Marshall. Who wouldn’t be? The woman was beautiful and, what’s more, she knew it.  

“Well, I mean…not yet.” The woman had let out a disappointed little sigh. “But I’m almost certain he will. I’m just giving him time to get settled in, you know?” She’d said, her perfectly painted lips curving into a smile as she held out a hand for her change. 

“How kind of you.” Good Lord how you wished you could hurry things along so you could go back to enjoying your peace and quiet. 

“Ari has already interviewed me twice. He even gave me his number, just in case I happen to remember anything else.” She’d tucked the cash from her return into her purse. “I think I might call him up and tell him that my memory works best after a couple of drinks. Think that’ll work?”

“I guess you’ll never know if you don’t try.” Even though you were annoyed, you’d pasted on a fake smile and closed the register, hoping that might be enough to convince her to end the conversation and move on already.

“Why, I think you just might be right.” Your unwanted guest held up the bookmark that was still in her grasp, her unspoken question left hanging in the air. “And this?”

“It’s on the house, Charline.” You’d patiently replied, bracing your elbows on the counter. “Best of luck landing your bounty hunter beau.”

“Well, aren’t you just a gem?” She’d all but squealed, sounding positively giddy as she took a step back. “You know, I bet if you spent a little more time out in the real world instead of holed-up in here with all these books, you’d probably be able to land a man too. You’d be awful pretty if you’d just put in a little bit of effort into it. I mean –” 

“No thanks.” You’d simply shrugged, unable to summon up enough energy to be outraged by the dig. 

It wasn’t worth the breath you would've wasted trying to explain why you were better off keeping the company of your book boyfriends. A real man required too much care and feeding for your tastes. 

“If you say so, sugar. But–” She’d responded as she strode towards the door. “Oh! You should come to my next party. We’ll let Mary Kay sponsor your makeover.”   

'No offense, Charline, but I’d rather put a campfire out with my face than attend your next Mary Kay get-together featuring you and ten of your mother’s closest friends.' You'd thought to yourself.

“Uh, maybe. We’ll see.” You’d hedged before turning on your heel and heading in the direction of the stockroom. “Enjoy the bookmark!” God, you’d never been so happy to hear someone exit your shop than you were at that moment.

Which brought you back to the present. You’re startled out of your reverie when the congregation erupts into thunderous applause, signaling the end of Reverend Turner’s sermon.  You knew you were going to have to move quickly if you wanted to avoid any unwanted attention from other members of the flock. 

Or worse yet: be forced into making small talk with Ari Levinson. Assuming that beast of a man actually possessed enough brain cells to actually string together a sentence or two. Which was a shame because he really was easy on the eyes. 

Unfortunately for you, you don’t realize that now you’re the one who’s staring until you notice the corner of his mouth tilt up in a smirk. Shit. The cocky lawman nods his head in your direction before having the audacity to mouth the word: “howdy”. It almost makes you wonder what his voice would sound like. 

Would his southern drawl be thick and rough, or smooth and easygoing? Assuming he was southern, that is.

Feeling your cheeks heat, you make fast work of grabbing your things before scooting out of the pew, doing your best to sneak out of the service before everyone is formally dismissed. The absolute last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were like every other woman in this town who was willing to practically trip over herself just to get a good look at him. 

On your way out you brush past Sister Mary Jo Winans, who is all too eager to follow you out the door and halfway down the front stairs.

So much for making a clean getaway.

“You’re not staying for the potluck?” She wheezes, gripping the railing as she struggles to catch her breath. 

“Afraid not, Sister Winans.” You tell her while digging through your purse for your keys. “I’ve gotta go home and change so I can head over to the shop.”

“But it’s Sunday, honey.” The matronly woman huffs, adjusting the angle of her wide-brim church hat. “This is the day that the Lord has made. We are to rejoice and be glad in it. It’s all right there in the good Book.”

“Be that as it may, Sister, I’m afraid I can’t stay. Plus I wouldn’t feel right about eating when I didn’t bring a dish to contribute, so…” You offer up a one-armed shrug. “Next time.” 

You also weren’t a fan of eating in front of people. You were always self-conscious about whatever you put on your plate, convinced that you were being judged for your choices. Your stomach growls at the mention of food, reminding you that you’d left some cottage cheese and fruit behind at the shop. That would just have to do until you found the wherewithal to make it to the grocery store.   

“But–”

“Next time. I promise.” You kindly interrupt, hoping that she would just let the issue drop. “By the way, I set aside a copy of Joyce Meyer’s latest book for you.”

“You did?”

“Yep.” You confirm as you begin walking backwards towards the nearby parking lot. “Stop by anytime. We’ll consider it an early birthday present, alright?” Smiling when she nods, you toss her a little wave before speed walking the rest of the way to your car. 

Unlocking it, you climb in the driver’s seat and slam the door before gunning the engine. Finally free, you peel out of the lot and turn onto the empty street. Needing to focus on something other than your thoughts about a certain bounty hunter, you decide to turn up the radio, praying for your traitorous brain to cooperate. 

Yeah, no such luck. 

“Fuck you, Levinson.” You spit, wishing that he was close enough to hear you right then. Because the way you saw it, the sooner he packed his shit and moved on, the better off you and everyone else in this godforsaken town would be. And if he knew what was good for him, he’d stay far away from you.

He’d have more luck getting information out of a drunk Charline than he would trying to get you to spill your guts. And the moment he threatened you, you were planning to call Bell’s Creek PD to let them deal with it. Until then, you had some empty shelves to stock. But first…

You were gonna need to find someone to cut you out of these damned spanx.

END 

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[nnight-dances]

CHERRY-FLAVOURED

PAIRING: choi seungcheol x f!reader (ft. kwon soonyoung & kim mingyu)

GENRE: fluff, angst

TROPES: small town au!, exes to lovers, jealousy, idiots in love, fake dating (w/ soonyoung), you own a small bookstore and i never mention what seungcheol does (but just know he's rich).

RECOMMENDED: reading ADORABLY, YOURS before this, since this is the same seungcheol and i make a few references to what happened there.

"Oh, did you hear? Seungcheol's back in town!" Nayeon calls out with a lopsided smile she thinks is inconspicuous. You think it's obnoxious. 

But you don't let her know how much the news bothers you, pretending to instead by absorbed in currently trying to get your hair to sit right in a ponytail. "Sure," you reply, not breaking eye-contact with yourself in the mirror. 

Your roommate quickly catches though because she appears by your shoulder in the mirror, eyes narrowing. "Right. And you're fine with it?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" you mutter, devoting every fibre of your being to make your tone stay flat.

"I don't know, the way you've been working on this ponytail for the past fifteen minutes had me thinking otherwise," she shrugs, "And the fact that it still looks like shit from the back."

You scoff in offense, "All my baby hair makes it real hard to do this, okay!" But Nayeon's already making her way back to the kitchen to finish her breakfast with a teasing giggle and you watch her in dismay, wondering if not only your hairstyle but also your acting had really been that bad.

And as you spin around to face your reflection, you figure that the general bad-ness of your life might have something to with Seungcheol's return to town after all. Not that you would ever admit it, for many reasons. But mainly because of the fact that he's your ex-boyfriend. 

You liked to think you'd ended things with him on a good note– there hadn't been too many tears or screams and you still would catch up with him whenever you ran into him, an occurrence that was basically inevitable given how small your town was. But ever since he'd left on trip to visit his much-famed best friend, Jeonghan, you'd finally gotten around to thinking about why you were still single despite having left a long-term relationship for over a month.  

…Which led to a series of messy first dates with the few tolerable men in town who would otherwise have you cringing at the thought of talking to them. And well, actually going out with them convinced you your first impressions were always right and your intuition was all-knowing. 

– 

Meet Soonyoung, the man who would almost unmistakably come around asking for gum in your store. Your bookstore. 

You couldn't figure out if it was a honest fault of his personality or if he was doing it to annoy you– until one afternoon you found it was something much worse: he was flirting with you.

"Y/N, your hair looks cute today," he's telling you through a grin right now. You look away from the computer screen where you've been logging the new stock of books in, ready to tell him thanks and that you needed to hear that since your beloved roomate insulted you this morning. You don't get around to saying all that because you spot a figure entering the store behind Soonyoung, where he's leaning on the counter with his hands under his chin. He thinks he's slick but you know it's so he can show off his arms. 

You've forgotten all about Hoshi and his boyish charms because you notice the new customer is none other than the recent arrival to town, Seungcheol. 

You hate the way you can feel your heart skip a beat at the revelation so you quickly turn your head back to your screen. "Thanks, Soonyoung."

Thankfully, Hoshi doesn't seem to notice the stiffness of your clipped response and instead is distracted by a stack of plastic-wrapped books. 

"Wow, you sure have a lot of new stock coming in these days, huh?" 

You nod, still not looking away from the screen. "Yeah, I've been working on keep the shelves up to date with the new releases. I'm sick of people using the feedback box to curse me out for still placing the classics out front."

You hear a snort then and you immediately recognize it as not Soonyoung's. 

"You'd think that's how the feedback works, no?" 

Slowly you turn to look at him in the eyes, unsettled by the playful glint you find there. "...Can I help you?" you ask quietly, keeping your tone cordial but not too warm. Hoshi stands up straight with Seungcheol next to him, earning him a glance from the man. 

"Oh, did you finally hire a part-timer?" he asks. You consider throwing the stack of new books in your ex's face. And then you remember how much they cost. So instead, you settle on shaking your head. 

"No–" Hoshi cuts you off, though, much to your chagrin. 

"No, I'm just here giving Y/N company," he's saying and you really wish he wouldn't speak, but he goes on, "She's been pretty stressed out these days and last week–"

"Soonyoung," you look at him warningly, "do you think you could help me double-check if there's a delivery out front? I keep getting tracking updates that it's close."

"Of course!" he responds already reaching for the glass doors, "Be right back, Y/N!"

With Soonyoung gone, Seungcheol finally breaks into the guffaw you know he's been keeping in for the past five minutes. "What's that all about?"

"It's none of your business, Seungcheol," you inform him as you busy yourself with tidying up the stray pieces of gum wrapper Soonyoung had conveniently forgotten. 

"Oh, so you do remember who I am, after all?" You hate how much you like listening his voice turn slighly soft at the sound of his name on your lips. And the how your breath's a little uneven when he slides to invade your line of vision, big hands tapping at the counter to get your attention. As if you could possibly be thinking about anything else right now. 

"Why are you here, anyway?" you ask him, training your gaze on him. "Because I know, for a fact, you don't read." 

"I'm hurt, Y/N," Seungcheol gasps with a hand to his chest. His unbelievably firm chest. "And after I worked so hard to read that boring poem book for you?"

You almost seethe at the way he calls it a poem book but contain it with a grimace. "Can we get to the point here? I have a store to run, dude."

"I'm serious! I came here to find a book. Considering picking that poem book again, figure out what the big deal is for once and for all."

You stay still, unresponsive to his ridiculous excuse. Seungcheol waits a few beats, eyes locked with yours before giving in. "Fine. I was in town and wanted to see how you were doing." 

Never mind, you think you preferred to hear the ridiculous lies because the way your ex-boyfriend's gaze drops to your fists by your side has you immediately unfolding your grasp. Stupid Seungcheol and his ability to fuck up a perfectly okay daily routine. 

"Ugh," you sigh out after a moment, "Come on. I'll help you find the chapbook. But you have to promise to never call it a poem book ever again. Or I'm blacklisting you." 

You don't see it but when you spin around to march into the bookstore, expecting Seungcheol to follow you, he's all smiles, his own fists unravelling at the way your tone lost its cold somewhere along the way of this encounter. He skips behind you with a noise of excitement. 

"Okayyyy," you hum as you crouch by the poetry section, fingers expertly running through the spines of the thin books there. Seungcheol crouches by you, a little too close because his arm brushes against you, almost throwing you off-balance. 

You're about to tell him off for surprising you but he suddenly smiles, dimples so delicious in the soft glow of the light of the bookstore filtering through the bookshelves. "Your hair looks different," he comments, voice low and his gaze slowly follows the trail of your low ponytail, the thin grey band that holds the strands together clearly very worn-out. "Looks pretty." 

And where Seungcheol's wondering when you started wearing your hair up, you're incredibly flustered by his compliment. You stand up too quick, knee joints popping, and you think you must really be growing old when your vision blacks out a little. 

You steady yourself with a hand on the shelf, quietly scolding Seungcheol, "You're in the way." He joins you on his feet, making way with an exaggerated wave of his arm, not missing the way your ears are turning redder by the second.

You're gifted a good solid five minutes of peace as you inspect the shelves, wondering how you lost track of the chapbook, when Seungcheol speaks up again. "Um, so seriously, what's the deal with you and Soonyoung? You… seeing him?" 

For all his attempts at maintaining an air of nonchalance, Seungcheol can't help how irked he was when he walked into your bookstore to the sight of Soonyoung making conversation to you. Irksome especially more so because he'd heard you say that you hated having people around you while you did the boring but imperative computer-related stuff at work, something about wanting to get the misery out of the way as soon as possible. Yet, there Soonyoung had been, distracting you with all his airhead being. 

"I can't seem to locate the book right now for some reason," you start, doing nothing to ease Seungcheol's worries, "And I also can't seem to comprehend why my dating life is a point of discussion between us… anymore."

And wow, does your comment hurt. It hurts Seungcheol but also you, even as you're the one saying it because you can practically feel his mood dampening at your words. But the rational part of you is praising you for doing the right thing and setting your boundaries before you get any more carried away by your ex-boyfriend's ways. 

That afternoon Seungcheol leaves your bookstore, very empty-handed and extremely heart-broken, because as he exits, he can already hear Soonyoung asking if you wanted get lunch with him. 

– 

Speaking of lunch, enter Mingyu because eating out with someone, more often than not, meant making a trip to his humble but bustling restaurant. It was everything right with your small town: a simple menu that remained consistently mind-blowing no matter how many times you visited.

Wish you could say your friendship with Mingyu had maintained the same level of consistency as his culinary competence. 

And in your defense, you didn't know how much longer you could've gone ignoring the way Mingyu would take every opportunity to make you extra sides that you didn't order and send you specially curated handmade dinner-sets when he heard you were sick or too busy to eat. You hated it, crossing the friendzone you had so carefully placed him in, but one late night, when he showed up at your door in the rain just so he could deliver your food before it went cold, you caved and invited him in. 

So while you legally have no choice but to politely turn down Soonyoung's offer for lunch, you can't help that you find yourself walking to Mingyu's Kitchen on Saturday morning for some brunch because as much as you loved improvising with the two ingredients in your fridge, nothing beat the ramyeon he cooks. 

You're still groggy when you enter the cozy shop but the familiar scent iss already warming you up from the chilly air outside. Except you make eye-contact with the man as you step foot into the place. 

The man being Seungcheol, of course, because where you could handle fielding Mingyu's puppy eyes on you, a reminder that you hadn't texted him back yet– Seungcheol's intense glare fixed on you has you shaking in your boots. Literally. 

"...actually, I think I'll just eat here," you hear him call out as you approach the counter to place your order. Your head hurts already so you don't think too hard about Seungcheol's request to Sakura who nods with a smile. 

"Y/N!" Mingyu materializes in front of you with a beam to greet you and you think sunglasses might've been the way to go this morning. 

"Hey," you drag out the greeting, flinching at your own hoarse voice, "What's up, Gyu?"

"Nothin' much, just dealing with the usual Saturday morning rush, y'know? Maroon 5 should write a song about that instead of crying over Sunday mornings, don't you think?"

You're busy processing the tall man's chaotic train of thoughts when you hear Seungcheol laughing faintly. You glance at him, frowning when he's standing closer to you than you remember and then look back at Mingyu. "Ha, sorry it's so busy," you mumble.

"You don't sound so good. Did you catch something?" Mingyu inquires, brows furrowing and you genuinely love the man for his observance but dread its consequences nevertheless.

"Ahh, I mean, it's fine. Just a little cold from the wind," you clear your throat in an effort to sound better, "But I'll have a ramyeon for that very reason." You try to punctuate your sentence with a light-hearted chuckle but with your condition, it just kind of sounds like you're dying so you shut yourself up. 

"Feeling under the weather?" 

You look up from your phone screen, where you've been fixating all your attention so you can ignore the way Seungcheol's seated himself on the table right next to yours. This was the problem with eating out alone. The danger of your ex-boyfriend tailing you. You swear you're dragging Nayeon out after you next time, her fucked-up sleep schedule be damned. 

You shrug in response to his question, "I'm fine. Thanks for the concern."

"You're very welcome," comes his teasing reply, "But seriously, you've got to wear more layers than that if you want to make it to winter."

You look down at your long-sleeved top with a frown, "I think this attire is perfectly appropriate for the fall, actually." You tug at the sleeves so they cover your wrists as if to prove a point. 

Seungcheol raises a brow, "It would be a perfectly appropriate attire for someone who doesn't have the immune system of a rat."

Gasping, you shoot back, "Rude! I don't see why I have to stand this slander even when we're not together."

There it is. The words slip out your tongue before you have a minute to filter your thoughts and though things between you and Seungcheol are more chill than most former lovers, your sudden comment has the atmosphere turn ever so awkward, with his smile falling and your own turning sour. 

You sigh in relief when Sakura brings out a tray to Seungcheol's table that very moment, saving you just a little embarassment. "Enjoy your meal!" she smiles at him and then at you, "Your food will be out soon!" 

You nod, swallowing against your dry throat and watch as Seungcheol stares at his food wordlessly. You really had a way with words for someone who sold books for a living. Eventually, you go back to distracting yourself with your phone and he starts eating, suddenly laser-focused on his food. 

You're thankful for the space, until you see Mingyu making his way to your table with your tray in his hands. You don't know why he does that, bringing you your food despite being the head chef and owner of the place. Well, you do know why but you didn't have the energy to deal with the reasons today. 

Not with Seungcheol sitting right there, eyes on Mingyu's back as he places your food in front of you, grin intact. You're about to thank the man and hopefully, cut any conversation short but he beats you to it. 

"Here's your food, Y/N!" his voice borders on cracking but he goes on, "I made you some yuja-cha as well for your throat. And make sure you eat a lot of kimchi, okay? Let me know if you need anything else."

Slowly you nod, thanking him under your breath as he takes off and now it's your turn to stare at your food in silence while Seungcheol's shooting daggers your way. 

If he thought he was upset by your thing with Soonyoung, the way Mingyu was just all up in your space with his stupidly sweet gestures has Seungcheol… a lot more upset. 

"I thought Mingyu and you were just friends," he's voicing before he can help it. 

Your head snaps up in surprise but really, you should've seen this coming. You compose yourself, averting your eyes back to the warm food in your plate. "And I thought I made it clear that my dating life is none of your business."

"It's not my business," Seungcheol says, unconvincing to his own hears, "But it would be a problem if you were, you know, two-timing." 

Now you know Seungcheol is trying to get on your nerves because he knows how much you hate dishonesty and to accuse you of being disloyal is a low blow, really. But it works because you finally look back at him with eyes wide, "Of course I'm not. I slept with him like once!"

Where the news has Seungcheol feeling conflicted because where it was good to know that nothing was serious, it was also not fun to hear that you'd slept with him. But while he tried hard to not dwell on Mingyu's impressive physique, you were busy catching up with your own loss of control.

Because even despite your unintended confession that you hope you weren't too loud about, you quickly supply in a quiet voice, "...well, it was technically a date that led to sleeping– but it had nothing to do with Soonyoung— I don't even know why I'm telling you this!" 

You spend the rest of your brunch focusing on finishing your food and appropriately thanking Mingyu for the food, a little apologetic for many many reasons, so you can leave the same room as your ex-boyfriend faster. 

But he makes it real hard, because just as you step out of the restaurant and take a deep breath of the fresh September air to settle your nerves, you hear his voice calling you out. You stuff your hands into the pockets of your pants to brace yourself as you turn around, already starting to say something about how he needs to leave you alone and forget you said anything. 

"You left your phone behind!" he cuts you off, holding out the device for you to see. You curse under your breath, feeling incredibly ridiculous as you reach for it. 

"Thanks–"

And then he dodges your grasp, leaving you flailing around like an idiot while he looks on with an amused half-smile. Half a smile because he knows you would kill him and then yourself if he straight-out laughed at you. 

"I'll give it back if you unblock me."

Your shoulders slump and a groan leaves your lungs. "Seungcheol."

But his smile only widens because you may be glaring at him but you did just say his name. And a win is a win. 

"Seriously? You're holding my phone hostage just so you can blackmail me over something so petty? Come on!" 

"I'm sorry, do you know how many seal memes you've been missing out on since you blocked me? This is no laughing matter."

"I'm not the one laughing," you snap and then cross your arms in exasperation, "Don't be a child, dude, and just give me my phone."

"Why did you block me anyway?"

You raise your brows at him as if to say really? but he maintains his smile and you groan again. You hate him for knowing that you hadn't blocked him right after the breakup thanks to someone's insistence on thinking seal memes were funny and that the real resaon you'd blocked him was–

"–Siri kept recommending your contact every single time I would go to make a phone call! Heck, I couldn't even text Nayeon to get me a towel in the shower because the messages app would automatically redirect to you."

Seungcheol watches in awe as he connects the dots in his head and mutters, "You still had me saved as kkmua's dad?" You look away but your silence is enough of an answer. 

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the reason your phone confused Seungcheol with Nayeon because he was kkuma's dad and she was kookeu's mom– an idea a drunk you had found incredibly hilarous. The similarity in their spelling had your algorithm all fooled every time you typed in one or the other's name in a rush. Still, you wish Seungcheol was a little dumber sometimes. 

Now as you look at Seungcheol you can see he's thinking of something. Most likely considering the question: Why didn't you change it? 

"I was too lazy to change it back, okay? Blocking you was obviously the easier choice."

"I didn't say anything," he tells you with an easy smile, clearly pleased to see you flushed. "For what it's worth, you're still promising young woman in my contacts. And I didn't even have to block you."

It's probably because you've seen Seungcheol so much more than the past two months in the past two days, but you find yourself moved by his words. They're not that meaningful really, he's just bringing up a past inside joke in that reassuring tone of his. But you can't help but smile. 

"I hate you," you breathe out and in the context of the conversation, it makes enough sense. But Seungcheol's dimples deepen because in the context of your history with him, the words are a consolation. 

He only becomes certain of it later that night when he's washed up and throws himself into his sheets to find his phone lighting up in the darkness. It's you. 

promising young woman sent you a link 

promising young woman: rats actually have a great immune system so joke's on u 

And that's all it takes for Seungcheol to go back to his lovesick self, squeaking into his pillow as he reads your text over and over until he can comprehend that not only have you unblocked him of your own accord (debatable) but were also texting him first. 

– 

The next time you run into Seungcheol, it really brings his contact name to life. But before that, enter Soobin, a shy blonde who's recently moved to the town. 

"You like Lamp, huh?" 

Soobin jumps around, eyes flailing around as if you'd caught him red-handed. And you might as well have, what with how he'd been humming and swaying to the music leaking out of the speakers in your bookstore. You'd enjoyed watching the younger man visit the store more frequently the past few weeks, always in the evening hours when you would finally break open your playlists, a luxury you only allowed near closing time. 

"Ha," he nervous laughs, "Y-Yeah… Sorry, I didn't think you were still here."

"I run the place, Soobin. It'd be a bit of a problem if I just took off." You smile at his flustered sigh and move past him to shelf a book you'd taken out to review earlier. "Anyway, we're closing soon. You buying anything today or…?" 

Soobin looks at the thick book in his hands and you recognize it as a new arrival but then he flips it around, a little unsure. "Umm, I'm not– this seems cool but also scary so probably not?"

"I'll take it off your hands then?" you offer with an understanding shrug. But he shakes his head eagerly, "No, no, don't worry. I remember where I took this from. I don't want to get in your way."

"...All right," you reply after a pause. Then, brushing your hands against your pants, "Let me know if you need help, anyway." 

But Soobin's far from one to bother you as he leaves wordleslly, not without assisting you relocate some heavy boxes to the store before you lock up for the day. You're calling out goodbye after him as he takes off into the night when you hear soft barks closing in on you, 

For a beat, you freeze because the sound is excruciatingly nostalgic and you genuinely think you must've time travelled when you turn around to see Seungcheol running toward you with a very excited Kkuma leading the way. You're already dropping to a squat when the dog scurries to your feet, licking at your ankle before you get your hands on her.

You let out an undignified coo at the white ball of fur, "Kkuma, my baby. Aww, baby, you're so sweet. Look at you!" You go on for a little bit, fussing over her as she rolls over for some belly rubs before you come to and become aware of the way Seungcheol stands by, patiently watching. 

You slowly rise to your feet with an awkward smile. 

"I'm convinced she still loves you more than me," the man starts with a pout, "And it's still so unfair. Kkuma, I'm your dad. I pay for your meals and grooming, you know?"

You laugh at the way he scolds his dog in a small voice as you retort, "Maybe she's in her rebellious years. Let her be."

Seungcheol's soft gaze lands on you with a huffed chuckle. And then he looks at something behind you. "Who was that, by the way? New conquest?"

You throw your hands up in the air. "Come on, man. You can't keep doing this!"

"Doing what?"

"Snooping around in my business! And also making me sound like some kind of a player." 

Seungcheol looks down like he's reflecting. Kkuma paws at his leg with a whine and you look between them before letting out a cough.

"That was Soobin. If you must know." You look away as you say this, like it was no big deal, reporting on your customers to your ex-boyfriend because he still got all whiny when he saw you with another man. Neither of you is ready to address the meaning of your actions toward each other quite yet. So you both pretend it's normal when Seungcheol lights up a little when you speak up. 

"Soobin…? Haven't hear that name before."

"Yeah, he moved in a few weeks ago. Shy guy but very smart," you say, "And I think he wants to work part-time at the bookstore." 

"Woah," Seungcheol's ears perk up, "That's great, Y/N! You could totally use the help."

You turn to face him, arms crossed yet again, with a suspecting look on your face. "Hmm, I guess you could say that. I haven't popped the question yet though so don't go around spreading rumors." 

"Aww, you know I would never snitch on you like that! Unless he makes a move on you, of course, because that would be a very different story–"

"Seungcheol." 

Nice. That would be three points to Seungcheol if he was keeping count of how many times you'd said in his name in that grave voice of yours, indicating that you were mad but also couldn't cover up the laughter that bled into your tone anyway. And he was. 

– 

"What about you? You were gone a while."

Seungcheol counts his blessings every minute you spend with him, even if a lot of it was you pushing him away. But you couldn't stay consistent with your cold demeanour for much longer, not with him making sure he ran into you just as you closed your store. With Kkuma scurrying for love and his innocent blush whenever you greeted him, it wasn't long before you were letting your walls down. 

So it's no surprise that you find yourself curious of what he'd been upto in the month-long visit he'd paid to his best friend. 

Initially, Seungcheol's giddy ove your question, like you were on a first date all over again and not just walking along the dim grass fields like you so often did. "You know how it is with Jeonghannie. I meant to be there for a week but… one thing led to another and I was there for a while."

You fall silent, trying to imagine what it must've been like for him. "He still lives near that college, doesn't he?"

"Yeah. He's a strange fellow."

"Not that strange. College towns are like cities," you chuckle, "but with less crime and cranky people."

"I don't know, college students are pretty cranky too. Maybe even worse than the average city person." You raise a brow at Seungcheol's grimace.

"What, did Jeonghan force you to fraternize with college kids or what?"

Okay, now Seungcheol's getting a little worried when he realizes where this is going. And even though everything's in the past for him, he can't help but hesitate to tell you what exactly he'd been up to.

"...Yeah, I mean, most of his friends are college seniors. He knows them from his time there so it's pretty chill."

A few more questions from you have Seungcheol pulling out his phone to supply you with some visuals for some of the events he's mentioning and the way you softly laugh into his shoulder at the sight of the chaotic night parties has him getting a little careless. 

"Wait, wait, who was that?" you stop Seungcheol's now excited swiping with a cold hand to his forearm. He freezes, more because he realizes what you're trying to see than the temperature of your body against his. 

"Um, oh–" he watches dumbly as you go back a few photos to a selfie of him and a girl. They're grinning in the photo, teeth on display and cheeks clearly red from intoxication. 

"Ohh, is she one of his college friends? She's cute–" You interrupt your own musings over the stranger when you go back another photo in his gallery. This time it's a photo of the girl kissing Seungcheol on the cheek, his eyes closed with a shy smile. 

"That's–" Seungcheol barely opens his mouth to explain but trails off when you abruptly pull away from him. "She's– A friend… Um, goes to college in the place and she's–" He stops talking with a groan because great, all his stuttering has you side-eyeing him, no doubt recognizing the guilt swimming in his eyes.

Your voice is so small when you finally speak up, pace increasing. "That's cute," is all you say.

"Wait, Y/N, you don't understand. I know what I sound like but–"

"Just to be clear," you stop your brisk walking to hold up a hand in between you and him as if to symbolize the space there. "You don't have to explain anything to me. It's all cool, Seungcheol." 

And the way you murmur his name transports him back a couple months, a similar breezy night. One where you'd pulled him away from a group dinner with your friends and looked down at your feet the whole time but your words had pierced right through his heart anyway. Even back then, you said his name softly, without any malice, but even that might've been merciful. Because what's worse is the way you uttered his name like goodbye, sincere enough to bring tears to his eyes, even now, as he watches your forlorn back disappear into the night. 

Zero points to Seungcheol. 

– 

"Y/N, you in there?"

It takes a good minute of Nayeon repeating her questioning in increasing volume for you to finally hear her knocks over the sound of the music playing through your headphones. You frown as you uncover one ear and call out, "Nayeon? What happened?" The door to your room slowly creaks up, revealing your roommate standing there with her hands occupied, each holding up a bottle of soju invitingly.

"Wanna talk about it?" 

You're already tearing up when she asks you that and by the time you've both drunk your way through the bottles, your eyes feel numb. You interrupt your own worrying over how swollen they were bound to be tomorrow when you point a finger at Nayeon and question, "I really needed this today. How'd you know?"

She smiles, "Of course I did. You ignored my text about eating at Mingyu's Kitchen and my offer to pay. Plus, you didn't do the thing you usually do where you come in and complain about your ex."

You pout, "I'm sorry. I must be so annoying."

"You are," Nayeon shrugs, "And I like it. But you know what I would like more? If you would just make up with him already."

"No."

"Is this about that one photo of some girl kissing him on the cheek? You know how petty it is to get jealous over something like that?"

"She was seriously pretty, Nayeon!" you defend yourself, "And I'm not jealous, just– just upset because he didn't tell me earlier. I feel so stupid."

"I'm sorry, babe," she mutters, rubbing your back, "He's an idiot for not just coming clean."

"I know! Even after he went sticking his nose in my business and who I slept with while he was gone!"

You sniffle, "Maybe I should just call him and tell him to never ever talk to me again. And that he's a jerk. And that I still love him."

"Wait a second," Nayeon pulls you back onto your butt on the floor, "Maybe, let's reconsider that last part?"

You're clearly more drunk than you let on because you look genuinely confused by her interjection. "What? About me hating him?"

– 

When you drag yourself into work on Monday, you expect a lot of things. You see the headache coming, from last night's drinking and this morning's lack of hot water. You also know it's going to rain the whole day so it's only harder to put one foot after another to move. And where you also expect to pestered by a man: the desperate pleas don't come from Seungcheol like you'd secretly hoped.

"Soonyoung?"

The man, who'd been impatiently pacing by the entrance to your store, stops at the sound of your voice and spins around, nearly slipping over thanks to the wet ground. He throws the daunting hood covering his eyes with a bright smile as you run over and hastily unlock the store.

"Why're you out here in the rain?" 

Soonyoung sighs in relief once he's inside brushing his damp pants off with a quick hand. Then, he looks up with a shy expression, "Well, I… need to ask you something."

And given his past mooning over you, when he says that with a nervous laugh, you're stiffening up because you think you know where this is going. But then, Soonyoung defies your expectations for the second time yet again. 

Because where you'd expected to have to turn him down with an incompetent attempt at kindness, the next hour finds you grappling with all the information he's throwing at you.

For starters, he does ask you out. But– "It's fake. Dont worry, I'm not actually into you like that," he quickly adds with a dry laugh. 

As it turns out, he's asking you to help him make a move on a girl he only recently realized he liked. Her name's Chaewon and the only thing you know about her is that she owns a strawberry farm and can sing on ocassion. So you're easily worried by this proposition, "Soonyoung, why would you pretend to be with someone else? Shouldn't you be asking her out?" 

The boy heaves a sigh, "Y/N, I hate it to break it to you but nobody does that anymore. Keep up with the times, won't you? Jealousy is the new I like you."

"I'm pretty sure that's not true," you scoff out, refusing to let Soonyoung peg you as old-fashioned. Your stomach swims at his words anyway, ming wandering to your own… jealousy issues with a certain someone.

"Anyway, there's an open observatory night or something at her farm tonight with complementary dinner after. And I need you to come with me and make her jealous." 

"I don't like how serious you are about this," you complain, "And I don't think I want to be a part of this evil scheme."

"Please, Y/N, you're the only one I can rely on! And you're basically a celebrity around here, when it comes to dating."

You frown, finally looking away from the shelf you'd been re-ogranizing, "What do you mean?"

Soonyoung bites his lip, clearly having said something he shouldn't have. You poke at his arm urgently with a glare. He groans, giving in, "Well, it's just… your break-up with Seungcheol was the only thing anyone could talk about last month! And then the gossip only resurfaced when he came back to town."

"What kind of gossip?" you press with narrow eyes. 

"I– can't say."

"Soonyoung," you warn him, "Tell me. Or I won't pretend to be your girlfriend."

"Oh, come on! This is blackmail!"

"I thought you really wanted to be with Chaewon, no?" you question with inordinate amounts of innonence in your smile, "Makes you want to paint flowers onto the sky for her, doesn't she?"

"Fine, I'll tell you but only because this side of you is scary," the boy sighs out, "People think the reason you broke up with him was because he cheated on you. And now he's back in town so he can apologize and make up with you… or whatever." 

"That's ridiculous!" you cough out, "Who's been spewing this nonsense? I'm gonna have to–"

He holds your arm in an attempt to ground you, "Nobody really thinks it's true though! And remember how you promised to not tell a soul about a word I told you today?"

"I don't because I never said that–!"

"Seungcheol's gonna be there tonight, too, if that helps?"

Soonyoung's clearly much more devious than you last remember him being but when he explains that this could be a win-win situation for both of you– where he makes Chaewon realize her feelings for him, you also make Seungcheol jealous with your little act. 

And while you're sure to curse the him out for his assumption that you would want to get back with Seungcheol at all to begin with, the idea does leave an impression on you. Your mind's gears are working really hard, not just because you're trying to figure out a new spread for the monthly display at the front of your bookstore, but also because you keep finding loopholes in Soonyoung's grand plan.

"But is pretending to be together for one dinner really going to convince anyone? I mean, no offense, but nobody I know will believe that."

Soonyoung shrugs, "It's not just for one night. We're obviously going to do other stuff." You scrunch your nose up in disgust. "But think of tonight as the opening night. What we do tonight determines how the rest of our lives will pan out. We could end up lonely and dreadful if one of us messes up."

– 

For all of your criticism of Soonyoung's hyperbolic description of a dubious scheme, that evening finds you making double-takes in the front camera of your phone every other minute. Yep, turns out your nose was still on your face.

"Y/N, you look great," Soonyoung calls out finally, having watched you the whole ride to the venue. It was part of his plan, of course, to make things seem more official in his words. "So can you stop?"

"Are you sure you don't like me?"

As it often happens, your own question catches you more off-guard than it does Soonyoung. Your nerves have succesfully taken over your bodily functions. 

"I don't, Y/N," he responds with an easy smile, "I don't know why you keep asking me that. Do you like me or something?"

You sigh. "Sorry. It just seemed like that for a while. But I'm glad you don't, it makes things a lot easier."

"Good," he hums and then, after a beat passes, "By the way, when all of this over and both of us are hopefully happily in love with our respective partners–"

"I'm not in love with Seung–"

"And after you're done denying your feelings– Maybe we can be friends?"

You nod with a thoughtful hum, "Sure. That sounds fine. Except I thought we were already friends?"

Conversation with Soonyoung becomes a lot less tiresome when you've both established the purely platonic basis of your relationship. Which is ironic because fifteen minutes later, he's whispering in your ear to smile as he reaches for your hand. But his presence is still comforting and you find yourself wondering why you hadn't always found it this easy to be friends with him. The thought keeps you distracted momentarily and then, you lock eyes with Seungcheol. 

You were standing next to Soonyoung when it happened, hand in his as he caught up with friends and purposefully showed off his new relationship. The news was as unexpected to them as it was to you this morning and keeps conversation busy enough to allow you to be completely zoned out. And then you spot Seungcheol across the room, his eyes fixed on you in the distance and his mouth set in an intimidating line.

You look away with a cough, feeling your neck grow warmer. Soonyoung senses the change in your mood and when he asks if you're okay, you lean into his ear and complain, "Fuck, I just made eye-contact with him." 

He breaks into a grin at your indirect admission to still liking your ex. If Seungcheol knew the context to your arrangement with Soonyoung, he would find this entire exchange heart-warming, losing it over how shy you've gotten. But he doesn't know.

So in his eyes, it just looks like you've just whispered an inside joke into another man's ear and his chuckles are out of fondness. And that's why attributes your shy flush to Soonyoung's response to you, and not the eye-contact you'd made with him seconds ago.  

Seungcheol spends the rest of the night lurking. He skirts your surroundings, his eyes in disbelief every time you don't pull away from Soonyoung's hand on you. He's confused and jealous. The combination has him malfunctioning in a corner when he spots you breaking away from Soonyoung's side for the first time that evening. 

He doesn't even spare a thought to his actions when he springs forth, trailing you to the refreshments. You're trying to refill your lemonade even though you don't really have the desire to drink it anymore, mainly because Soonyoung had approached Chaewon and it seemed like his plan was working because you'd never felt so invisible in a conversation before. 

You can feel the act tiring you out though because you don't notice it when Seungcheol sneaks up to your side, breathing down your neck and staring seriously even when you spin around and almost spill your drink all over yourself in surprise. 

"S-Seungcheol!" you groan out, flustered but relieved your dress didn't have to suffer the consequences of your weakness around him. But your heart certainly did, especially when the man stepped closer, voice few octaves lower than usual.

"What are you doing with him?"

You go silent, knowing that you should feel unsettled by the absence of friendliness in his tone but only feel yourself enjoy the way he's so obvious about his jealousy. You look back at him, trying to seem innocent but immediately hate the way his eyes have reddened. "I'm… helping Soonyoung out."

Seungcheol's expression is a big question mark at that. A big angry question mark followed by an exclamation point, if you will. "...by following him around on his arm all night?" 

"Um… yeah," you look over his shoulder to make sure Soonyoung's still occupied by Chaewon and the momentary lack of attention is already pissing your ex-boyfriend even more. You hate lying but you convince yourself that right now, you're simply witholding information from someone. 

"I don't get it, Y/N," he says, "Did I lose my chance with you?"

The question catches you completely off-guard, leaving you gaping at Seungcheol. You were used to his short-temper and his incessant questions but this was new: the solemn setting of his lips and his downcast eyes as he asked you if he still stood a chance with you. He was being vulnerable, you realized, in a way that he never was during your relationship. The change is dizzying, it really is, and you can only think of all the other ways Seungcheol's been changed since he returned.

And all the ways he's stayed the same.

You swallow against the lump in your throat, "Come with me." 

You lead him to a slightly more secluded part of the observatory, a dimly lit corner that's orchestrated by more crickets and the lack of chatter is a welcome relief to your already crowded senses. "I'm not actually with Soonyoung," you breathe out, the truth weighing heavily on your tongue even though you'd only pretended for the one night, "I'm pretending to, because he asked me to." 

Seungcheol's eyes widen, "What? You're fake-dating that guy? Why?"

"He likes Chaewon," you point them out for him over his shoulder but Seungcheol only stares at your face with a serious expression. You retract your pointer with a flushed face, "And they were apparently getting nowhere, despite both liking each other. So he figured he needed some intervention."

You point to yourself this time with a half-smile and then remember the unimpressed look on Seungcheol's face. You watch his face carefully but he remains still for over a minute. 

"Well, I'm only telling you because you asked so nicely," you clear your throat, feeling a little stupid now that he's gone mute, "Do with that what you will. I'm gonna go back…"

You pat your dress down and exhale heavily, trying to steel yourself against both the disappointment and the cold night-air. You've already rejoined the noisy crowd, only a few steps away when you pick up on Seungcheol's voice. 

"--meant nothing…" is all you can pick up so you turn around to find him at an arm's length, muttering something, too low for it to be audible. You say, "What did you say?"

"I said that the photo you saw that day meant nothing. She's Jeonghan's girlfriend and I slept with her once. I also pretended to be into her but only so I could forget about you."

More than anything, you're shocked by the way he emphasizes you, the word coming out stronger than the rest of his explanation, one that does more to soothe your nerves than you realize. But you also don't know what to with this new information, because your brain can't keep up with how much more context there might be to it– Why did he sleep with her if she's with Jeonghan? And why did he look so happy in the photo if it meant nothing?

But tonight isn't about you, it's about Soonyoung and you've made a promise to him. So you tell Seungcheol, "I've gotta get back, Cheol–" the nickname slips out before you've censored yourself. Your face burns but you turn away quickly. "I- See you later."

The crowd is so close to you, just another step or two and you could be lost in the sea of half-familiar faces and probably get caught up in catching up with someone or the other. But if the crowd is close, then Seungcheol is closer to you. 

His hands are on your shoulders, warm heat invading your exposed arms pleasantly when he holds you back with that pained look of his. At this point, you're only partly grounded in your body, floating around when you hear Seungcheol's words to you. "I'm still in love with you, Y/N. Never stopped loving you, to be honest." 

That brings you back to earth with a jerk and you blink at him slowly. "I–" you start and then trail off. Then you start again, now that reality's starting to set again. "I feel the same. Obviously. I tried to move on but– ugh, I still love you." You feel Seungcheol's arm slide down to your elbows and then to find your hands, intertwining your fingers with his like he'd imagined doing ever since he got back to town.

"So we're good?" Seungcheol asks you, licking his lips with a small smile.

"Um, well, what do you mean by that because if– I mean, if we're friends–" You're trying to think of a way to state your thoughts in a self-respectful way when he leans in, lips brushing against your with a soft sigh. Your own breath hitches, especially when Seungcheol's hands come up to cup your face with a gentleness you forgot he could muster. He kisses you, sweet and soft, and when you pull away it's with a stupid grin.

He matches your grin, "Does that make things clear? We're not friends. I want to kiss your face and it would be great if you stopped pretending to date other men–"

The mention of fake-dating has you gasping loudly as you push Seungcheol away hastily, "Fuck, I'm supposed to be with–" You turn around and no doubt, everyone rushes to look away but you know the damage has been done when you hear scattered applause and whistles. The sight is heart-warming to you in a universe where you haven't just fucked up a plan. 

"I messed up big-time," you tell Seungcheol with an exasperated groan. 

The man regards you with thinly-concealed glee, "We kiss and make up but you're complaining because…?"

"Soonyoung! I was supposed to–"

Seungcheol doesn't do anything to help when he leans in to peck your lips again. You scowl at him, "What was that for?"

"Sorry, I just forgot what I was to you for a moment there, what with you going on about another man–"

"Cheol, I just confessed my love to you," you scold him but your ears turn pink, "And you're my boyfriend. So don't forget that. But right now, I need to go find my fake-boyfriend or I'll have blood on my hands–"

You're rushing to spot Soonyoung's head in the crowd when he suddenly appears, much closer than you'd anticipated, probably because he's heading right at you. You start to feel the guilt build up in your throat but then you see the grin he's sporting and the way he's skipping toward you. 

"Soonyoung," you call out, "I'm sorry–" you gesture toward Seungcheol vaguely, "I got a little caught up."

"Ahh, don't worry about it!" the boy chuckles lightly and then crosses his arms like he does when he has something to tell you, "I'm– The plan worked!"

"What?! It did? But I thought–?"

"Yeah, well, one part of the plan was to get you and Seungcheol together?" Soonyoung reminds you with a sly smile. You feel Seungcheol's arm around you as he pipes up, "It was???" You ignore how excited he sounds and narrow your eyes at Soonyoung, "Okay, but we clearly just ruined the whole act! What about–"

"Chaewon got jealous. And then when we spotted you and Seungcheol kissing, she was about to be really mad at you but I explained things to her… and then, she was mad at me but then… um, well, we, you know, kissed it out."

"Soonyoung!" you exclaim, clapping your hands together in relief, "That's great! We don't have to date anymore!" 

Soonyoung laughs at your phrasing but you're busy being wooed by the smitten smile on Seungcheol's face when squeezes your hand, muttering, "You all mine now?" 

– 

Cue star-gazing with Seungcheol. 

It was his idea, one he'd suggested out loud to you over the dinner that was also his idea, the candle between you flickering with your breathless agreement. You were in love with Seungcheol like you'd been for as long as you remember. The break-up, creeping up into your mind thanks to a combination of a lull in your relationship with him and doubts of whether there might be someone else for both of you, seemed like a faraway event already when you resumed your life with him.

"The stars are pretty, aren't they?"

You hum in agreement to Seungcheol, fiddling with his fingers. His laughter bleeds into your body, "You're not even looking up at the sky, baby."

You shift to lay down next to him. "I was!" you defend, "But then I got scared. The stars just make me feel so insignificant. And temporary." Your voice breaks a little, "I don't want temporary."

Seungcheol wraps around you, bringing your face up to his and watching you blink the tears out of yours. "Oh, doll, you're so precious," he huffs out, running a thumb under your eyes, "I love you. Fuck being temporary, okay? I'm going to be with you forever."

"You can't guarantee that though," you mumble out.

"I know I can't. Because I could die before you or like be abducted by the aliens when they inevitably come colonize us. We all know I'd be their first pick."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Y/N, we're still together, even after we broke up," he kisses your cheek to emphasize your togetherness, "We're in love, despite it all. And that seems solid enough to me, you know? The scariest part of going into a relationship is the possibility of separating. But if we've done it before, how bad can it be?"

"What if we break up again?"

"Then we'll figure something out," Seungcheol says, "I know we will. It might not be the same as always but I promise I'll always be a part of your life for as long as I can." 

You sniffle into his shoulder, "I love you. Can you please beg the aliens to take me with you?" 

Seungcheol's laughter resounds through you yet again, a hand brushing your hair lovingly. You were finally wearing your hair down again, and it might've something to do with the way he would find a way to slip the hairtie out of its place. It sits around his wrist now, worn-out but incredibly dear to him. 

"Of course, love, anything for you." 

–  

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

the seungcheol brainrot never stops <3 i hope i've done this seungcheol justice, given what he went through in jeonghan's fic lol... anyway, i'm thinking of writing another part where jeongcheol catch up or something?? may be an interesting collision of worlds... we'll see.

#scoups x y/n #scoups x you #seungcheol x reader #scoups svt #svt fics #svt x reader #hoshi x reader #choi seungcheol #scoups x reader #scoups fics #choi seungcheol x y/n #scoups seventeen #seventeen fics #seventeen imagine #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol fluff #svt fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #scoups angst #kpop fic #kpop x reader #kpop imagines

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for indulging in my boyfriend's cuck kink?

Alright, so for some background, both me (25, M, panromantic asexual) and my BF (28, M, bisexual) live in a VERY conservative rural area, literally NOBODY knows we're together even though we've been dating for years and the community is pretty tight-knit, that's how much effort we've put into hiding ourselves. We've thought about moving out but honestly other than the constant threat of being found out our life here is pretty great, we know everyone in the community and are on very friendly terms with them, we were both born and raised here so we're honestly kinda scared of losing everything and starting over in a new place, plus I really want to stay to support my dad because I know he can already get pretty lonely as is (mom works out of town, only visits for holidays if even that, plus I don't have any other siblings to keep him company) and me moving away would hurt him a lot.

Now, with that out of the way onto the actual situation: the cuck thing is something me and my boyfriend have discussed about at length, he's not shy about it to me and I'm always glad to make him happy so I'd be open to trying it if the opportunity arose. The thing is- I never really thought there WOULD be an opportunity for it due to the circumstances described above. Well, that was until a girl we both know confessed to me on Christmas Eve. That girl- let's call her Ellie (23, F, straight(?))- is someone I've actually had feelings for a while now (my BF knows and told me he'd be fine with me dating her as an 'official' relationship, but only if I keep us a secret), however I never did anything about those feelings. I was honestly kinda shocked when the confession happened, but in a good way, and I ended up accepting in the heat of the moment, so now me and Ellie have been 'officially' dating for about a month.

Here's where I think I might be the asshole: since that happened my BF has started to hang out with the two of us while we're acting like a very lovey-dovey couple and he's obviously been getting off on that (as in, it's obvious to me, doubt anyone else picked up on it) and I've been having mixed feelings about this. On one hand we did talk about it and agree to it, but on the other I do think this is unfair to Ellie in a way that I didn't realize previously because I never realistically considered this happening. My BF is reassuring me, saying that it's best we keep hidden anyway and that so long as nobody finds out no harm is done, but I still feel kinda bad about it, yet at the same time I don't really know what I should do in this situation to make it right. The whole thing only gets even more complicated when you account for the fact that Ellie is our pastor's granddaughter and as such comes from a very well known family in our community, a family that has a reputation to uphold, and if the thing about me and my BF came out it would surely impact her badly in that way as well. On the other, she really gets along with my son (8, M) and I really think that she'd make a great mother to him so I don't want to deprive him of that and break things off just because of my own personal drama. On the other OTHER hand I also don't want to break up with my BF because it would feel cruel in my opinion, especially when I very much still love him.

So, AITA for keeping my promise and just going along with this and keeping quiet to save myself and my BF?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[aziraphale-is-a-cat]

Planned Obsolescence

Pt 1

Danny liked to think he had made a life for himself outside of the hero gig, that he'd put down the metaphorical cape, gone to fancy engineering school, and landing himself a job at S.T.A.R. Labs.

So walking into the main lobby at 6am he was understandably a little unnerved to find a member of the Justice League there, waiting for him.

"Dr. Fenton!" His boss called him over from where she'd been chatting with the new guests. "We've been waiting for you, come with us."

Danny was suddenly extremely uncomfortable, part of the main hero force of his home dimension was suddenly staring at him intently. If they'd been tipped off about his dead-ness then he was in a whole world of trouble.

"Uh, Dr. Norris, what exactly is going on?" He asked, nervously.

"We'll discuss it in my office, follow me."

The slowly walk up to the office was a new type of torture, trying to push down his panic and watching the hero watch him from the corner of his eye.

With his supervisor and him were Nightwing and some random Dude who, while not in costume, still held himself with his shoulders squared and his stance wide in the same way.

The guy must've seen him staring and introduced himself. "I'm Ted Kord, I work as a, uh, civilian contractor with the Justice League."

Danny's eyes narrowed but he didn't voice his skepticism. "Damn, how do you even get a job like that?" Kord, that sounded familiar.

The guests all shared a look as they stepped into the office, Dr. Norris finding her seat behind her desk. "Well actually, that's what we came here for."

Danny was immediately on edge, he wasn't on good terms with the government already. He remembered in that moment where he remembered the name 'Kord' from.

"This is about my parents' work, isn't it?" He accused, continuing when he got no response. "You're from Kord Omniversal," he said to Kord, "You wouldn't go running to S.T.A.R. Labs, your competitor, unless we really had something you didn't." He let the silence stew.

Danny had put a lot of work distancing himself from the legacy of his parents, going so far as to pull most of their research from public access once he gained ownership of it after their deaths. It really bothered him to still be associated with them and their body of work now that he had a name for himself and a reputation he had built on his own.

Awkwardly, Nightwing stepped up to fill the silence, doing his best to ignore the mounting tension.

"We know you have your parents' complete research, but while we need that your expertise in building and designing," he gestured with his hands as he searched for the right word, "unique machines-"

"You want me to build you a portal." Danny interrupted shortly.

"To another dimension, yes." Nightwing responded, cringing a little.

Danny rubbed the bridge of his nose, wishing to the ancients that he could just run off and be a hermit in the mountains. Appalachia would work well, a healthy supernatural community for occasional social interactions and minimal contact with stupid fucking humans.

"What would I get out of it?"

"Money, government contract, that looks good on a resume." Kord responded.

He looked to Dr. Norris, pleading with his eyes for a reason not to take it.

"Dr. Fenton taking on a contract with the Justice League would open up some in demand employment opportunities for you here at S.T.A.R. Labs, positions with better pay and access to better materials." She pushed him a manilla folder smiling, and when he opened it Danny saw contract pre-written, addressed to him.

He snapped it shut and took a deep breath to ground himself. "Where do you wanna go?"

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Being picked up for work via Zeta Tube was a new brand of surreal, even for a Teen-Hero Turned Engineer.

The automated voice called out his designation, "G-09: Daniel Fenton", as he stepped into his new temporary laboratory. The workspace was top of the line, and lined with cameras. The constant surveillance was going to make this very hard, seeing as he's now stuck with staying humans the whole time, and is no doubt going to be bugged going home.

Something was sketchy about this whole ordeal. Danny hadn't seen hide nor hair of any of the other members of the Justice League, and even though he's handling a task drenched in the occult, he hadn't had to consult any League Affiliated occultists.

Batman was notorious for going through research and experiments with a fine tooth comb, and yet Danny hadn't been called in to explain himself nor the obvious holes in the material he submitted to them, intentionally omitting parts both to keep the more dangerous parts out of government hands and to see where he stood.

And it appears he stood at the crossroads- holding, though his unique and specialized knowledge, all the cards. Nightwing was desperate, something had at least a few of the more senior members out of contact, including whoever they had that knew anything about magic and the multiverse. And it had everything to do with what was on the other side of the portal they wanted him to build.

Any magician worth their own ass knew that mechanical portals outside their own group of dimensions, known as a format due to their similarity in inhabitants and history, never fucking work. Spell portals were the only type that ever made it out, and it took an exceptionally strong caster to open one for even a few seconds.

Any portal trying to leave would just find themselves in the hub, the space between dimensions in a format, same as any portal without a destination or goal which is why it was relatively easy for the Fentons to punch a hole into the Infinite Realms.

As it stood Nightwing really should know that what he was asking of Danny should by all means be impossible.

He purposefully set his file box down on his desk Infront of a hidden camera, it would be hard to work around later when he needed the space but it was worth it to make his point. He knew he was being watched. And he didn't like it.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Walking into the nearly empty conference room, Dick Grayson slid onto the table and laid down. Being alone with some friends in the watchtower free to sit on the fancy, expensive surfaces however he wished sounded like childhood Dick's dream, but now it was just depressing.

"You know you're taking a massive risk with this one, right?" Cyborg asked from the head of the table. "I know our options aren't too great, but this is just miserable."

"Cy, we are beyond the point of miserable."

The half machine groaned and put his head in his hands. "Constantine would shoot us for even trying this bullshit, first for mixing tech and magic, then again for hiring a Fenton!"

"Yeah well, the blonde bastard is stuck with the rest of the League on the ruins of fucking Azarath, and Dr. Fate fucked off to whatever he's deemed more important than us so there's not much by the way of options!"

Cyborg massaged his temples. "This guy's tech is off." He pulled out the papers Dr. Fenton had submitted on his research. "I know confronting him about the inconsistencies will just scare him off, but it's not just that! The tech he brought in, I tried interfacing with it and it just repelled me. There's something wrong with it."

Nightwing rolled his head over to look at him critically. "Something magic? Something interdimensional? Because if so that's what we hired him for."

Cyborg opened his mouth to respond but at that moment a bright flash of light filled the room as The Flash zipped into the room.

"Hey so I know you guys told me to check out his old home for signs of that portal, but the whole place is fucking weird."

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #dick grayson #nightwing #dpxdc #dcxdp #cyborg #victor stone #wally west #flash #ted kord #blue beetle

[badgyalshii]

ITS NEVER OVER |||| (FINALE)

Word count: 4.1k

Paul Atredies x F!Reader (always safe for POCS + PLUSSIZE)

warnings: do NOT read this without reading the past chapters! This is the FINALE. Depression, language, death.

A/n: no words can describe how much this fic lowkey affected me, im greatful for my new followers and thank you for reading this and riding in this journey with me! I love you all, and proceed with caution, and once yr done reading come ttm!

READDDD THE FIRST CHAPTERS! LAST WARNING ITS RLLY GOOD🙄 I . II . III . IV .

Although you and chani shared a room,it still felt like something was missing, and it was clearly paul. You were already scared, but now you grew uncomfortable, you knew these people around you, but it was clear as day something changed, and both you and chani spoke about it, the tension in the air thick between the people you knew your whole life, something was up. You still didn't know where he was and you explained this to chani which she held you in her arms and listened to you vent while softly messing with your hair. ¨he will find you, he will come back, paul is strong, y/n, smart¨ she muttered, looking at you. You would cry if you could, but you never did. It was a rule, don't waste water, so it was in your bones not to cry. It was still your first day coming back to the palace, and it was late at night, you barely heard any footsteps outside of the rather big, dark, and quiet room.

¨maybe i should try to find him?¨ you said, looking at up chani and she let out a sigh before letting you go and touching her chin, rubbing it before coming up to your cheek. ¨you deserve rest. This is too much, enough about paul y/n! Just sleep. That's all you need to do, he will find you¨ her tone was demanding to which you didn't understand why, you furrowed your eyebrows and looked at her sadly, and she laughed before standing up. ¨you know what? Do what you want to y/n. 6 years on the road for what! I've spent my years with you, and you aren't appreciative at all, it hurts my feelings,¨ she revealed, putting her hands on her hips and pacing. ¨paul, paul, paul! Go find him! And when you do and hes not the same dont even fucking talk to me¨ she laughed. ¨chani, don't be like this-¨

¨like what? Seriously, what? If thats what you want, go fucking get it. Because I'm done. I've done enough! You can't even live without paul! Have you not learned anything on your own? From stilgars teachings? From me?!¨ She blew up, all the things she wanted to finally say, she said, before she couldn't, because she tried her best to hear you out, but god you are so hard headed. She didn't even want to look at you. ¨why are you treating me like this?¨ you whispered, looking at her hurt. There was a lump in your throat and your lip pouted. ¨stop treating me like this¨ you said, looking at her begging. ¨you're so unbelievable. I hope you find what you want¨ she sighed and exited the door. You watched as she left before standing and trying to push the frog in your throat down with your knuckles.

This was all so sudden, why does she feel this way? Why did she do that to you? What did you do that was so wrong. But you were now awoken, aware that she wasn't wrong at all, and it hurt. It hurt that you were this way, could you live without paul? It wasn't your fault that you felt like this, maybe she was just jealous, but that isn't the right way of thinking. You laid in the cotton sheets and sat in the darkness, thinking, drifting throughout all of your thoughts as your throat clogged up and you tried your hardest to fight the feeling, but you couldn't. You let out a weak sob, trying to fight the tears that were about to escape your eyes. You swallowed, why? How long had she been feeling this way? Did she secretly hate you? Does she hate you? Maybe you're exaggerating. You came to terms with that and hoped when you slept you woke up to paul.

Knock knock knock

You woke up in a panic, how long have you slept? Was it the next morning? The room was horrifyingly black and you'd been in such a trance you forget what happened before you went to sleep. You heard the knocks again and you became nervous, slowly standing and wondering if you should pretend like you just weren't there, and suddenly the door opened, hardened eyes looked at you, you could feel it, but you couldn't see it. You heard the door creek as it continued to open until the door hit the wall with a small bang.

You slowly crouched down, reaching for the dagger that was in your boot, ̈hello?!¨ you called out after you stood in position. What the fuck was going on? So many thoughts coursed through your head as you wondered who was looking at you, would they say anything back? What should-

¨ Empress irulan has called you for dinner¨ the deep dark voice said, before reaching for the light and flickering it on. You let out an oh and your position changed to an awkward one, putting the dagger in your pocket before he turned the light on. You nodded your head, before letting out a chuckle. ¨erm, didn't know there was a light¨ he didn't find it funny, but he didn't look like he found anything funny. He wore a mask that covered his mouth and his eyebrows looked like he was always angry. ¨follow me¨ he said before turning around, and started walking without you.

It didn't take you long to follow him, the halls were long and quiet, only light from the chandeliers supporting your vision, if it wasn't such a gut sickening situation, the place would seem cooler and more lovely. The only thing that could be heard is the guards hard steps against the pavement of the floor. You looked around and tried to take in the area but every time you tried to think about something positive you couldn't help but think maybe this was the night you were gonna die. You had no protection besides your own, considering chani was mad and ran off to wherever. ¨bitch¨ you muttered under your breath thinking about it, and that seemed to take over your mind now. Why would she do that? What an asshole, and you both could have just talked about it! No need to blow up in your face, trash. You seemed to still be angry about it as you arrived to the door.

You finally arrived at the offly secret room, the entire room was black, the only thing that shined was the dinner table and irulan since there was a single chandelier hanging almost close to touch the dinner table, which must've been sturdy. Irulan sipping wine with a dinner plate in front of her and the same thing on the opposite side of her, guessing that space was for you. “Your majesty” the guard says, irulan looks over at the guard and the guard took notice before nodding, leaving the premises.

There you were, all alone, or you'd hope, with Irulan. Truth was, you could take her on your own no problem. You silently walked over and she watched you the entire time, you pulled out your own seat before scooting yourself in. you cleared your throat and looked ahead. Pretty embarrassing, if you will.

Irulan was dressed in silks, diamonds, everything anyone would want, her hair soft, teeth white and the way she stared at you like you were so beneath her was infuriating, but also made you insecure. You knew how you looked. Your hair is messy. Rips in your clothes. Self care isn't really relevant when you're on the road. She sipped her wine slowly, watching your every move before she set down the glass, and when she did, it was an offly loud sound. You awkwardly looked at her, you tried, tried your hardest actually to hide the fact that you were nervous, that you were scared, but the way that Irulan was looking at you, it was as if she could already tell.

Looking at this glorious food and wine made your throat quench, your mouth watering at the sight. It was filled with mashed potatoes, steak and vegetables, clearly from somewhere else because on this planet you don't really get such fantasies. You looked down at the meal and pursed your lips together, it wasn't that serious, but when you've been looking for scraps for years, and there was a plate just looking at you, waiting for it to be eaten, there's only so much you could do.

You didn't trust it, you averted your eyes from the plate and back up to her. ¨you can eat, you know¨ she said, her voice stern and upright as a smirk played on her lips. She couldn't help but laugh, her white teeth showcasing while you sat there, nervous, suspicious, annoyed, but now, embarrassed. Was there no way you could beat her? Was she just better than you? That wasn't even the point, was she aiming to kill you tonight.

You shut out all of the questions, this was a shot to assert your dominance.your eyebrows furrow in a suspicious state and you placed your hands together. ¨why am I here?¨and you broke her laugh, her eyebrows raised as she cleared her throat. This time, you sat tall, your voice strong. Stronger than you thought it would be. She came back to sitting straight and took a sip of her wine once again.

¨why did you come back?¨ she answered your question with another question. You looked at her before wincing your eyes, ¨is this about paul-¨ before you could finish your sentence, she cleared her throat and flashed you a soft smile. ¨We haven't talked since the wedding, won't even have a child for the sake of his bloodline¨ she said, now she has become comfortable. Picking up her glass and moving it to where the liquid forms into a circle. You had nothing to say. ¨you're a very smart girl¨ she says, looking at the glass.

¨I am a woman, thank you¨ you stated, you sat up, she eyed you, her head slowly turning up as she looked at you up and down once again. The room fell quiet. Weirdly quiet. She studied you again and again, as if she was trying to find out about you. ¨do you have secrets?¨ she asked, picking up her fork and taking a bite of her steak. ¨doesn't everyone?¨ you replied. The way she bit the steak, man, you wanted a piece. You could feel your stomach rumble. She chewed and nodded her head. ¨is the reason why you came back a secret?¨ she asked, swallowing her steak.

¨i came back because paul is the one i love-¨ ¨he's changed¨ irulan cut you off. ¨lots of blood on your hands can make you a changed person, you'll see¨ she winked and pointed her fork at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, ¨how do you know if you guys haven't talked since the wedding?¨ you argued, but you didn't want to fight it off, you wanted to hear what she had to say. ¨you'll see it, in his eyes-¨ ¨everyone knows his eyes are blue-¨

¨it's not that, y/n. Hes….what is a good way to say this¨ she thought out loud. ¨grumpy¨ she finished, before taking another bite of her steak. ¨and by grumpy you mean what?¨ ¨lazy¨ she replies, now taking a bite of her mashed potatoes before she looks up at you. ¨How could he be lazy if he's been gone for two years trying to find me? You know, I don't understand you. What are you trying to get out of me? Hm? What do you want?¨ you put your hands on the table about to lift yourself so suddenly before irulan stood and told you not to move. ¨I ordered the guards to watch and if you make any sudden movements they will take you out no hesitancy, i recommend you sit¨ she says quickly. You look in her eyes, it showed genuine concern as her hand was on yours.

¨ So you're scared of me?¨ you lowered, she sat along with you before shrugging and drinking the rest of what was in her wine glass. ¨let's be honest, you could have taken me out the first time you saw me . irulan says, you say nothing as you watch her, ̈and the food is poisoned?¨ you asked. She shook her head no, all this time wasted, you could've been with chani, you could've left, to find paul,, but here you sat. ¨so once again. Why am i here?¨ you asked again.

¨I don't want to be weak to others, if Paul comes back, I don't want anyone to know about you guys¨ she answers genuinely, it seems as if she's quite tipsy. You chuckle ¨irulan. Everyone does,¨ this was surprising, and how could irulan possibly want you to hide your love for paul when that's all you've really known, even in public, holding hands, considerably long hugs, small and innocent kisses. ¨ Now if you would excuse me¨ you look up, around before slowly standing, leaving irulan where she was. She looked at you, watched you intently and her eyes sat fierce, almost telling you to watch your back silently. You let out a breath before taking the plate and the wine with you, exiting the door and now having to find your way back to your room.

What a shitshow in one day, you would've thought things went way different, and you thought about it in your head, the scenario you had as you continued to walk through the halls.

You ran to the walls of the palace, and the security guard finally smiled for once in his life, considering the usual role he had to play as the job. You imagined he told you, “Paul's waiting, go to your room” and somehow you just knew where the room was. You'd see paul, paul sleeping, wondering what he dreamed of, since he was sleeping such soft snores, his nose flaring only from time to time. His eyebrows relaxed, his lightly chapped lips parted, taking in the air and softly breathing out. He wasn't tucked into the bed- no only when you were there to touch him and hold him in his sleep. He was shirtless, you touched his arm and softly forwarded it to the side of his cheek and up to his hair. His eyebrows would furrow before he opened his eyes, and when he did he blinked twice. Oh you remembered this like your left and your right, he wouldn't believe it, he would be so desperate in such a good situation, he cried for it. You'd make love to teach others before the night ended how it usually did, with you holding him and running your hands all through his hair and you both fell asleep.

You were so stuck in the dream that you bumped shoulders with someone, you caught a quick smell of this other, they smelled of salt and sand and as they took another step, you heard the crunch from his shoes. “Sorry” you let out a mutter, it came out in a groggy tone, didn't sound like you usually do, you sounded weak, sad and it didn't help that your head was hung low. He let out a hum and continued walking, at this point, you didn't care anymore, your day was already bad. You continued to walk, stepping and not picking up your feet before you decided maybe it was time to try the mashed potatoes that were on the plate, before you heard footsteps running to you, you looked over, did irulan just send one of her guards to you? But as he got closer, you saw his eyes, hazel, just looking at you and staring at you whilst he ran. You dropped the plate but kept the knife that was on the plate and stood in position for the second time today.

As the unknown person ran to you, you tried to breathe faster, heavier to tell when they were close, there he was! Quick! His hands reached out to you and when he pressed his body to yours, there was a squelch sound, of the knife breaking skin. You looked into the eyes that were pouring into your own with fear on your face, had you just made a mistake? The hazel eyes piercing your own were in shock, also covered in fear and you heard his mouth become agape. What the fuck just happened? Who is this?

You reach up with your free hand as he continued to hold you tightly and leaned on you, letting out a mutter, ¨y/n¨ he let out, you took off the mask and, ¨oh my god, no…no no no¨ your eyebrows furrowed as your mouth became agape. You froze and your hands shook, guilt covering your body.

¨paul¨ you said, when he tried to talk, he coughed blood on your face, drops of blood on the side of your lips and on your cheek, you let go of the knife in your hand and his body weight completely leaned on you making you both fall down. ¨paul paul paul, no!¨ you yelled, ¨no!¨ this couldn't be true, you were washed of accidental betrayal. All the blood dropped from your head to your feet. You laid him flat on his back and he choked every time he breathed, ¨talk to me! Please keep breathing, please, paul, please, it was an accident!¨ you let out, you sat in his lap and looked at the wound, you wouldn't be able to take off his thick cover as a shirt without taking out the knife, the handle was too thick. Sniffles came to your nose as you let out a loud fuck. ¨c-calm..do-wn¨ he choked. You looked at him before ripping off your shirt and wrapping it around his both to apply pressure to the wound. You leaned up and put your hand on the side of his cheek, your hand covered in his blood as you pleaded for him to stay alive. When he started to be unresponsive, still breathing and looking at you, trying to speak, you called out for help, yelled out that paul atreides has been stabbed, the emperor has been stabbed!

Guards instantly came and ripped you off of him, they put you in shitty and gritty handcuffs that itched your hands, but you weren't focused on that, tears brimmed your eyes as you watched the blood continue to pour from his mouth, he looked over, his body jittering, his lips moving as he was trying to tell you something, ¨i-i..found..¨ his hand reached up to you. ¨paul! Please!¨ you cried, yelling, the guards pulled you away and you shouted, ¨i love you! Please, hold on! Wait for me!” you yelled, you tried breaking out of the guards firm hands but it was no use, and it was probably better that way, better to get him to safety. You sniffled again and your head hung low as they pulled you to wherever.

You traveled down the stairs, into this place you didn't know, but as you continued to walk, there were cells, prison cells. People in them looked desperate, starved. Tears continued to stroll down your cheek, why? Why out of all days, you are positive you just killed the love of your life, and you didn't even hesitate. They took off the cuffs and threw you in a cell, you fell to the ground and on your knees as the guards looked down at you from the other side of the gate. ¨just, tell me when he is alive…please ̈ you begged, looking up at them. One laughed while the other shook his head at you before they both walked away.

The cell was cold and looking at the marks on the wall, you could tell this isn't the place to be. You sat on the ground, knees up to your chest, you didn't want to eat, you didn't want to sleep, you just wanted to know if Paul was alive, it had been three days, men in the cells were picking at you, but you paid them no mind. Three shitty trays of food sat in front of you, a guard felt bad for you, telling you, you should eat something, but you just couldn't. You sat in the same position they left you in, lips chapped, body shivering, and you were sure you would never return.

Suddenly, you heard something from the intercom, clear as day, you looked up to the speaker in your cell, ¨excuse me¨ you heard them clear their throat, this was the time, to know if he was alive, you stood and paced, waited on them to speak again, anxiety in your stomach and a rock laid in your throat, you tried to push it down with your knuckles. You looked at the speaker, eager and needy. ¨our emperor,¨ they cleared their throat again…you put your hands on your hair, ¨hurry up!¨ you yelled, still pacing.

¨has fallen¨ a shriek left your lips, hurt washed through your body and you fell on your knees again. Prisoners cheered through the cells, hell yeahs, wooo!´s. You grabbed your heart as cries escaped your lips, your throat hurt, you screamed from the top of your lungs. ¨y/n y/l/n has murdered the emperor¨ your mouth only fell more and you covered it with the palm of your hand. ¨holy! Ain't that you?!¨ the prisoner across from you said, while pointing at you. You said nothing, but he laughed. ¨emperor got killed by a girl!¨ he joked, but then, people started cheering you on now.

You heard a chant of your name and it made your head almost dizzy. ¨no! Shut up! Shut up!¨ you yelled, voice hoarse, no one could hear you the way they screamed and cheered, smiles on their faces. You lost so much breath your vision was poor, but then you heard your cell being opened, you laid over, looking at the ground before you felt guards grabbing you from under your armpits and lifting you up, your feet dragged as they were forced to move you. You still heard others shouting your name. What was this? Where were they taking you? You couldn't focus on one thing, and when you closed your eyes, they stayed close.

When you awoke, your neck and wrists were restrained, when you opened your eyes and looked up, there was a crowd, filled with freman, your people, shouting kill her. Your eyebrows furrowed when you looked at your wrists, you were about to be beheaded. You shook and tried to get out of there. Others laughed and you looked up again. They stood chani and paul's mother, chani looked sick, this wasn't true. Irulan stood there also, a black veil on her head as she watched you, no emotion on her face, but then suddenly there was a smirk. ¨silence!¨ a man yelled over the crowd, ¨does anyone object to this death sentence?¨ he yelled over. You looked at chani, then Lady Jessica, your eyes pleaded, but the way they wanted you dead, if they tried to fight for you, it seemed like they would be in your situation also. Stilgar looked at you with a stern, hard and stiff look. All these people, all your people, just turned a blind eye to the love you and Paul shared, you didn't even get a chance to explain yourself, would you go out unheard? Your breath quickened and you tried to calm yourself, tried to make peace, but once you blinked your eyes, they never opened.

This was it, you were dead. At least you would meet him on the other side. Looking back on it, maybe this was meant to be, in a way, it was beautiful. The pair suffered when they were not together, but now they get everlasting peace and happiness. Maybe they would get married, walk along the green grass, dress in all white, have a few kids together. They had each other, through thick and thin, when they hadn't seen each other for years their hearts were still connected and thought about each other everyday. But this is the end. Lovers now turn into soulmates as they fade off in the air together, and never look back.

TAGLIST 🏷

@huh01011 @heartsforchalamet

#dune part 2 #paul atredies x black!reader #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chamalet x black!reader #timothee x you #paul atredies smut #timothee chalamet smut #paul atreides x reader #timothee chamalet series #paul atredies series #paul atredies x you #angst #betrayal #IM SO SORRY TO THE PEOPLE WHO READ THIS!

[rollingsins]

all hers, part xxiii

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: Tara and Sam rush you to the hospital. You see a familiar friend.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, graphic violence.

word count: 4.9k

a/n: let me know what you think, love you guys as always ;)

In all her life, Sam has never seen so much blood.

It’s everywhere. All over the back of her hands, in her hair. It’s all over the floor, all over the ceiling, all over Tara.

All over you.

Everything is soaked crimson red.

She presses her hand a little harder against the wound in your stomach, trying to stop it. 

But it spills out, flushing the floor like it’s a red sea.

Tara’s sobbing.

Her hands are on your face, your eyelids have long fluttered shut. There’s a pulse, Sam can feel it, but it's faint. Barely there. 

And there's nothing Sam can do but watch as she listens to her baby sister wail for you to open your eyes.

“Tara,” Sam murmurs. She’d touch Tara’s shoulder, try to snap her out of her grief infused trance, but she’s too scared the moment she lifts her hands you’ll bleed out all over the basement floor.

Tara rests her forehead to your cheek, the water from her eyes staining with the blood on your face, turning it a light shade of pink.

She murmurs something Sam can’t hear. Presses her lips once more to the side of your cheek.

“Tara!” Sam says, a little more forcefully.

The ambulance should have been here by now. Sam had called ahead of time and then again once more. The moment you’d passed out.

But it’s been ten minutes and there’s no sign of them.

“Call them again,” Sam instructs, once she’s sure she has Tara’s attention, “Tell them she’s bleeding out.”

Tara’s bottom lip wobbles, but she does what she’s told.

She sinks her face back down into your neck and presses her phone to her ear, her words a desperate mumble.

The ambulance arrive not five minutes later.

It’s a flurry of lights, and stretchers and crime scene tape as the police follow, not long after.

These are Millwood police officers, and Sam doesn’t recognize a single face.

But for all their questions, they don’t get much out of either one of them. Tara’s at your side, hurrying out with the EMT’s as they pull your limp, bloodied body onto a stretcher, hooking an oxygen mask around your face and taking Sam’s place putting pressure on your wound.

Sam follows, not wanting you or Tara far from sight.

“Is she going to be okay?” Tara asks, voice frail as they pile into the back of the ambulance. Sam presses her hands to Tara’s shoulder in support.

They’d very nearly kicked Sam out. The ambulance isn’t massive, and Sam had half-expected to be relegated to riding in a squad car on the way to the hospital. But Tara’s near hysterical, and the only thing slightly calming her down is Sam’s hand wrapped tight around her shoulders.

“We’re doing our best, honey,” Says the EMT, not unkindly, “But we need to focus on her, right now. Okay?”

There’s a thick layer of gauze pressed to your stomach to soak up some of the blood. But within seconds it’s coated through.

The EMT’s barrel off to each other, almost speaking in code. Heavy medical terms Sam doesn’t understand. But she gets the gist.

It’s not looking good.

She squeezes Tara’s shoulders a little tighter as Tara’s whimpers break out into sobs.

-

When the ambulance pulls into the hospital they take you away.

You’re rushed through the cool linoleum floors, whisked behind a pair of swinging doors that Sam and Tara aren’t allowed through.

You’re going straight into surgery, is what the EMT had said. It could be hours before there’s news.

It had been a fight to stop Tara from barreling in after you.

She stands now, looking horrific; covered in blood, sweat, and her own tears as she argues with the receptionist. Bloody shoeprints follow in her wake.

“There’s a viewing platform,” She says, voice shrewd, leaning down onto the receptionists counter, “There’s a viewing platform to watch surgery. I’ve seen it in Grey’s Anatomy. I need to be there.”

“Ma’am,” Says the receptionist, looking pointed. Her phone is pressed to her ear, no doubt trying to call for security, “There is no viewing platform. That’s a TV show.”

“Tara,’ Sam murmurs, tugging at her sister’s arm, “Come on. We can’t do anything now. We just have to wait-”

Tara shakes off Sam’s hand, shooting her an angry glare.

“My girlfriend needs me,” She says, voice desperate, “If there’s no viewing platform, can’t I be in there? I’ll take a shower. Where one of those hospital gown things. Please.” Her voice cracks, “I have to be in there. I have to be with her. If she dies and I’m not there…”

Her voice trails off. She looks like she’s about to cry again.

Sam reaches out, presses her hand firm against Tara’s back.

The receptionist looks up, pity overtaking her features.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” She says, “You need to let the doctors do their job. I’ll have them update you when they can.”

-

She doesn’t call security.

Tara deflates like a lead balloon. Sam is alert, on guard, a little concerned Tara might take matters into her own hands and careen through the hospital in a sprint to find you.

But instead she lets Sam take her by the hand and lead her to the waiting room.

And then, she promptly takes out her phone, shoulders seizing in aggravation. Anger overtakes her features. The tears promptly stop, like someone has just turned off a hose and replaced it with a flamethrower. 

“I’m suing the hospital.” Tara says, voice a growl. She’s swiping through google for lawyers.  Sam bites her lip and welcomes the distraction. Better Tara take out her emotions via google than swinging a punch at the hospital receptionist. 

“Okay, Tara.” She says, voice tired. Her knee bounces. Sam had called Woodsboro hospital, and your Mom and Dad had been rushed to the emergency room, their fate not dissimilar from yours. It feels wrong to be sitting. Sam feels like she should be pacing, or checking on you or doing something. 

But there's nothing she can do except sit. Stew in her own panic. 

“I’m suing the police, too.” Tara says, looking up, “What kind of police force doesn’t know their Sheriff is Ghostface?”

Sam hums.

Usually, she’d argue. In the overarching sense of morality, she often ends up on the opposite side of her sister.

But privately, she agrees.

How could no one have seen the town Sheriff had been Ghostface all along?

Tara drops her phone. The anger, quick as it had come, evaporates. Her lip quivers. 

“Sam?” Tara asks, voice small. Sam looks up. Tara’s eyes are red, a little puffy. She’s wiped most of the blood from her face but speckles of it still linger in her hair.

She looks as if she might cry again.

“Do you think she’s going to be okay?”

It’s not a question so much as a plea for comfort. Sam scoots a little closer, draws Tara’s head onto her shoulder.

“She’s in the best place,” Says Sam, voice a little hesitant, “They’ll do everything they can to make sure she’s alright.”

She doesn’t want to lie. In truth, it had looked bad, and Sam has no idea if you’ll pull through or not. Tara sniffs against her shoulder, and Sam feels the thin material of her t-shirt soak through with Tara’s tears. She rubs Tara’s back, comfortingly.

“If she dies, I don’t know what I’ll do,” Tara murmurs. She loops her hands around Sam’s arm, clinging to her like a baby koala in a tree, “If she dies, Sam, I’ll die.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Sam says. She squeezes Tara’s shoulders once more, “And let’s not get ahead of ourselves. She’s in surgery, she’s not gone yet. Okay?”

Tara says something inaudible. Her grip around Sam’s arm tightens. She settles for resting her head against Sam’s shoulder, and Sam’s heart soars.

Tara isn’t affectionate, not with her.

She’d be lucky to get a hug out of Tara most days. They snipe at each other like sisters because that’s what they are. When they were kids it was hair pulling. Silly, bouts of sibling rivalry. But Sam’s older now, and that isn’t what she wants their relationship to be.

It’s more than sisterly for Sam. It’s maternal. Their own mother off god knows where, not a care in the world her youngest daughter is covered in blood and falling to pieces in a dingy hospital waiting room.

And so Sam will be the mother Tara needs. She presses a quick kiss to her sister’s head, and closes her eyes. She doesn’t believe in God, not really. But she prays hard now.

Because if she doesn’t pray and beg and cry she knows her sister will never be the same.

Please, God, she thinks, desperately, please let her wake up.

-

When you wake, you’re in a meadow.

You blink up at the pale blue of the sky, not a cloud in sight. You sit, rubbing at your eyes. 

This isn't Woodboro, is all you can think. Woodboro is winding suburban streets and million dollar houses. This is a grassy field in the middle of nowhere. 

You turn, confused, looking for any sign of life. 

And then you see him. 

Clear as day, standing over you. His expression is mild, he looks almost pleased to see you. 

And you can't think of why. 

"Wes?" You ask. You blink, then clamor to your feet. He doesn't move, or speak, or make any effort to acknowledge his name. You step a little closer, mind whirling. 

“Are you real?” You ask, wide-eyed.

He looks real. Floppy, blonde hair. Searing blue eyes. Stubble dotting the round of his chin. His lips, slightly chapped, they way they always were. You can smell him - that cologne he liked, you can feel the warmth from his body.

You blink.

Wonder if he’d be weirded out if you touched him.

But you do it anyway.

He smiles, a little lopsided, as you graze the skin of his forearm.

“You’re real.” You breathe out in wonder.

Then you frown.

“But you’re dead. I-”

Killed you.

His smile fades.

You swallow.

“Where’s Tara?” You ask, as if you'd just realized she isn't here. 

The look on his face is pained.

Panic surges through you. You whirl around, looking for her. Grass blooms as far as the eye can see. There’s nothing else. No roads, no signs. No power poles, nothing.

No sign of anything else. Anyone else.

“Where is she?” You ask again, “Wes, tell me where Tara is. Has something happened to her?”

You rack your brain, trying to think of the last time you’d seen her. But your mind draws a blank. You don’t remember anything. Nothing but her and her pretty smile.

You grab at Wes’ arm, shake him.

He blinks. And suddenly, the look in his eyes is mean.

“You’re not going to see her again,” He says. His lips purse, “You’re not going to see anyone again. And it’s your fault.”

And then he disappears.

His body crumbles like paper under water. You falter forward, your grip on his arm the only thing keeping you upright.

You cough, eyes watering as the ash hits your mouth.

You look up, desperately.

The birds chirp. A pleasant breezes settles through the blades of grass. You panic.

“Tara!” You cry out, wildly fumbling your way through the meadow, “Tara, where are you?”

You break out into a sprint. But the meadow doesn’t end. You run and run and run. A mile. Two miles. Until your chest is heaving and you’re covered in sweat. And then you collapse to the ground. Your stomach aches like someone is twisting metal through your insides.

You pant, tug your shirt up to see a bare patch of skin. There’s nothing wrong with you. Your eyebrows knit together as you start to cry.

You don’t know where you are, or what’s going on.

You can’t remember yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that.

You just think of Tara. You wonder where she is. She wouldn’t leave you alone in the middle of a field. She loves you.

Surely, she’s looking for you.

And then a soft voice draws you out of your stupor.

There’s a road behind you that certainly wasn’t there before. You blink, mouth falling open. It’s Chase, eyes sparkling. He’s in his old pick-up truck, the one with the paint peeling off the sides and the stupid ‘ladies man’ charm hanging off the rear screen mirror.

“Hey,” Chase says, with a smile on his face, “Get in.”

-

Tara had settled for maybe thirty minutes.

She’d closed her eyes, and for a moment, Sam had almost thought she'd drifted off to sleep. And then, inevitably, someone had to ruin it. 

"Samantha Carpenter?" He'd called. He's wearing a uniform, a Sheriff's badge pressed to his chest. The badge is old, looking a little rusty. Sam frowns, and sits slightly upright. 

Tara rises at the same time. 

“Who are you?” Sam asks, frown on her face. 

The man charges forward, a little awkwardly. He accidentally bumps a coffee table, sending a slew of magazines careening onto the ground. 

"Sorry," He says, as Sam and Tara blink up at him, "Should have introduced myself. I'm the new Sheriff. Well, the old Sheriff. The old old Sheriff. I've been asked to step in." 

He reaches down onto the ground and fumbles with the magazine. 

His smile is sheepish. 

“My name is Dewey,” He says, “Dewey Riley.”

“Okay, Dewey,” Sam says, frowning slightly, “This really isn’t a great time. My sister's girlfriend is in surgery." 

The look on his face is apologetic. 

"I know," He says, "I'm sorry." 

He reaches into his pocket and draws out a small notebook, "We didn't get a statement, back at the house. I know it was a little - hectic. But we really need to get an account of what happened." 

“What happened was your Sheriff was a raving psychopath who kidnapped my girlfriend and tried to murder her,” Growls Tara, "What happened was she stabbed her so hard she's been in surgery for the last three hours-" 

Dewey purses his lips.

“I understand,” He says, “I’m sorry this happened. I know it must be very traumatic.” He lets it hang. Sam frowns.

“I know you,” She says, suddenly, it all coming at once. His face is so familiar, “You knew my-”

Father. Is what she wants to say. She catches herself just in time. Tara doesn’t know. Nobody knows. And it’s not the time or place for family revelations.

“You knew the original Ghostface.”

Dewey tilts his head.

“And the one after that,” He says, with a weak smile on his lips, “And the one after that. And the one after that. I know what it’s like to survive a Ghostface attack.”

He touches Tara’s shoulder, sympathy on his face.

“Like I said, I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“I’m suing you,” Tara says, quietly. Hatred brews behind her eyes, “I’m suing the entire Woodsboro police force. For all I know you were all in on it. I’m not talking to you without a lawyer.”

Sam pinches her nose.

“Tara, he’s just doing his job-”

But Dewey smiles.

“It’s all right, I understand.” He says, but he doesn’t step away. Instead, he sits down. Tara stares, “But it’s a bit conspiratorial, don’t you think? A police force of Ghostfaces’? Logistically, it’d be a nightmare.”

Tara blinks.

“You don’t have to talk to me,” Dewey says. He leans back in his seat, “But if you don’t, they’ll send someone else. Maybe the state police. Maybe the Feds. And they won’t do it here. They’ll take you to the station, keep you in the interrogation room for hours. The death of a police officer is a very serious matter.”

Sam swallows.

“I think you should stay here and be with your girlfriend,” Dewey says, quietly, “I think she’ll want you here when she wakes up. But that will only be the case if you can tell me what happened.”

Tara’s quiet a moment.

And then she speaks.

“It all started four weeks ago.”

-

Infuriatingly, Chase doesn’t say anything for a long while.

He hums along with the radio, taps his fingers against the wheel. Ignores you staring at him. 

Ignores your barrage of questions.

“Where am I?” Is the one you keep repeating.

This reality isn’t reality. That much is obvious by now. You’ve been in an endless field talking to ghosts all day. Tara is nowhere in sight.

Chase looks over at you.

“You’re nowhere.” He says. And then he smiles again and tilts his head back. Mumbles along to Bryan Adams’ “Heaven”.

“Is that supposed to be funny?” You snap. You lean forward and shut the radio off, “Is this heaven? Is that where we are?”

Chase laughs.

“You really think you’re going to heaven?” He asks, bemused. His eyes twinkle.

You swallow.

“So, I’m in hell?”

Chase shakes his head.

“No. Not yet, at least. You’re nowhere.”

You grind your teeth, frustration overtaking you. Chase and Wes are some incredibly unhelpful ghosts.

“How can I be nowhere?” You ask, “Am I dead? Is this- limbo, or something?”

Chase looks over at you. He tilts his head, taking pity on you.

“You’re in your own head,” He says, softly, “You’re dreaming. This isn't real. None of it is real.”

You blink. This doesn’t feel like a dream. It’s vivid. You can touch, feel, smell everything around you. You press your hand to the dashboard. It’s solid under your hand.

“I’m dreaming?” You ask, confused, “So this isn’t real? You’re not… real?”

Chase shrugs.

“I’m dead, remember?” He says, “But I guess, dead or alive, it doesn’t matter when you’re dreaming."

You close your eyes and picture Tara. You want her here now. You want her to take you in her arms and kiss you and tell you everything’s going to be okay.

But when you open them, it’s still Chase staring back at you.

“If I’m dreaming, then I want her here.” You say a little accusatory, looking at him as if he’s the one keeping her from appearing.

“That’s not how a dream works,” Says Chase with a quiet hum, “You might want her here, but your subconscious doesn’t.”

“Every part of me wants her, especially my subconscious.” You growl.

“I think the point of a subconscious is you’re not conscious of it.” His eyes twinkle again. You huff, irritated.

“Are you a ghost or my psychologist?” You grumble under your breath. You stare out the window. That damn meadow still rolls in its wake.

“Neither,” He drawls. His hands tighten on the wheel, “Maybe I’m your guilty conscience. Him and me, maybe we both are.”

You draw in a breath. Remember Wes’ eyes. Blue, so blue. Trusting right up until the moment you’d turned your knife on him.

“But we don’t have to talk about that,” Chase offers. His smile is sad, “We could pick up where we left off. Like we’re best friends again.”

You hadn’t thought much about Chase, if you were telling the truth. You hadn’t thought much about any of them. Tara’s good at that, making you forget.

It hadn’t occurred to you that it might not necessarily be a good thing.

“I’d like to wake up now.” You declare, loudly.

Chase peers over at you.

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” Is all he says.

You frown.

“Something’s really wrong.” You murmur. You don’t know it but you feel it. Your stomach aches once more. Desperately you try to remember.

But there’s nothing.

Not a single fleeting memory from the last time you’d been awake. Vague memories, all cobbled together. Like the time your father had taught you to ride a bike. The first time you’d scraped your knee. Your first kiss with Tara.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

Ghostface, something about Ghostface.

But you can’t quite work it out. It’s like you’re moving in slow motion, your thoughts not quick enough to keep up.

Chase turns the radio back on and belts out the rest of the song. 

-

Dewey doesn’t stay long.

Tara talks quietly, but quickly. Like she’s trying to get him out of there as fast as possible. She tells Dewey about Richie, about the attack at the house. She tells him about that time he’d stabbed her, about how she and Sam had worked it out.

The Sheriff had taken them down to the station and left them in her office.

Tara had seen the suspect board, the dotted lines drawn between the victims. And then she’d remembered something that had sent her flying out of her seat.

Stab 2, the only clue Ghostface had ever left you.

The movie where Ghostface had been the mother.

He leaves with his well wishes and a promise to follow up when the investigation had started. There would be more they had to do, he assured. Witness statements, likely long talks with the state police. But he’d hold them off for a while. Allow them to wait for you in peace.

Tara returns to her seat, hands twitching in her lap.

And Sam’s quiet as she thinks.

Through all the frantic panic of the last few hours she hadn’t allowed herself to think of why.

Why had the Sheriff targeted her sister? Why had Sam’s own boyfriend joined her? Why had the Sheriff killed those poor kids - Sadie, Aaron, Amber, Chase, Sam. They were children, after all. Eighteen year old children.

And then she thinks of her father.

Some people are just bad, Sam, he sneers at her now, some people just want to cause hurt.

Sam thinks of her own sister.

Tara had been violent, so so violent.

She’d taken the knife out of the Sheriff’s throat and all but used her as a pin cushion. She’d screamed, and cried, the look in her eyes terrifying as she’d taken what little life the Sheriff had left in her.

Tara got angry sometimes, this Sam knew.

But not like this.

Sam swallows. She leans forward and touches Tara’s arm. The Sheriff’s blood is dried now, but it seems to be the least of Tara’s worries. As if, sitting here, covered in blood is an everyday occurrence.

“Are you…” Sam thinks, trying to phrase it the right way, “Are you alright?”

She fails, clearly.

Tara looks over at her as if she’s an idiot.

“Am I alright?” Tara asks, eyebrows knit together. Her voice rises. The other people in the waiting room look over, “My girlfriend is in hospital. She has a stab wound in her stomach and no one will tell me what’s going on. Am I alright?”

“That isn’t what I meant,” Sam says, hurriedly, “Sorry. Forget I said anything.”

Tara shakes her head, expression sparking with annoyance.

“I’m going to talk to the nurse again,” She says, standing, “Before you ask me any more stupid questions.”

And she’s back. The sister Sam knows so well.

Sam rubs her eyebrows and tells herself not to think so hard.

Tara approaches the receptionist once more. Sam watches, eyes squirting as she tries to make out their words. When Tara hurries back in a sprint, Sam’s heart leaps.

Tara’s eyes are wide as she approaches.

“She’s out of surgery,” Tara says, and her voice can’t hide her excitement, “She’s not awake, not yet. But she’s out of surgery, Sam.”

-

You feel sleepy.

Sleepier than you should, considering you’re in a dream.

Chase is humming again, his hand sprawled across the back of your seat, the way it always was. Like he’d just wanted to be close to you.

One of his few, fatal mistakes.

It had been so easy, then. Just you and Chase, taking on the world. Laughing at dumb twitter memes, watching movies together at his house. The days when he’d been staring with puppy dog eyes and you’d be too blind to notice he’d been looking at you.

You try to think about a reality where you’d never met Tara. Never fallen in love with her.

You imagine yourself in the 1950s. Chase would have been your sweetheart. You’d go out with him on weeknights and drink milkshakes, and hold hands, and make out in the back of his truck just down the street, so your Dad couldn’t see.

No Tara, no murder.

Just life.

And it makes your stomach turn.

“I would have never been happy with you.” You murmur. He looks over. There are those puppy dogs eyes again.

“I would have never been happy with any of them.” You continue. Not Aaron and his pretty eyes. Not Sadie and her sweet laugh.

Pretty, sweet and boring.

“No,” Chase agrees. He’s slowing down the car, but you barely notice. Your eyes are drooping, “You wouldn’t have. You’re too fucked up for that.”

You can see Tara now. Almost feel her. The ghost of her lips brushing yours. Her hands in your hair, brushing it back. Her eyes wide, desperate. Like she’d give anything in the world to see your eyes open.

“Wake up, baby,” She’s murmuring. Quiet, like it’s just for you, “Wake up and come back to me.”

You hum. That sounds nice. Chase withdraws his hand from your seat. He touches your arm, smile sad. Like he’s about to leave.

“I’m sorry that you’re dead.” You murmur.

You’d say it with more reverence but there’s no point. He is, after all, a figment of your imagination. You’re talking to yourself.

Chase leans forward. Presses a long kiss to your forehead.

“Me too.” He says. He squeezes your hand.

“But I think it’s time for you to wake up now.”

-

When the nurse tells Tara the room they’re keeping you in, she breaks out into a sprint. 

Not a quick walk. Not a light jog. 

A sprint. 

The nurse stands in her seat, screaming at her to slow down. Sam scrambles up out of her seat, apologizing quickly to the nurse and hurrying along after her sister. 

Hallways pass by in a blur. Doctors shout as Tara barrels past them. She shoves everything out of the way. A stretcher is sent careening into a window. Medical supplies burst and are sent sprawling all over the floor as Tara charges a rolling cabinet out of the way.

She all but shoves a little old lady in a wheelchair out of the way in order to reach the elevator. Leaves Sam there, apologizing profusely as she does.

But Tara doesn’t care.

There’s only one thing that matters; you.

She’s out of breath when she finally reaches your floor.

There’s a nurse by your bedside, plugging you with an IV drip.

Your face is white, so pale, you almost look as if you’re made of marble.

Chest heaving, Tara approaches. She ignores the nurse and sits down at your side, taking your limp hand between her own.

“It’s okay, baby,” She murmurs. Her lip trembles. Her heart is racing. She reaches over the bed and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, “I’m here now.”

The nurse retracts from you, studying her.

“You must be the young lady who’s been giving our receptionist hell.” She says, but her voice is light, teasing. She reaches out and squeezes Tara’s hand.

“I’ll send the doctor in to give you a rundown of the surgery,” She says, “But don’t worry too much, sweetheart. We fixed her up. She’s going to be alright.”

Tara’s heart sings.

She looks up at the nurse, wide-eyed. Her lips are chapped, her face still stained with blood. She looks terrible, frightening. But her eyes spark with hope.

“Promise?” She asks, with all the energy of a small child asking for a bedtime story.

The nurse squeezes her once more.

“I’ll send in the doctor.”

And with a wink, she turns on her heel and closes the door behind her.

The heart monitor beeps, steadily. You don’t move. Your eyes firmly pressed closed. Tara touches the tip of your jaw, working her fingers along the ridges of your face. Your chin, your nose. Your closed eyelids.

You look perfect, Tara thinks, even like this. Her beautiful, perfect girl. 

She settles on your cheek and cups it, moving in closer to press the softest of kisses to your lips.

“I love you so much,” She murmurs. The heart monitor is in tune with her own heartbeat. She links her fingers with yours and presses a kiss to the back of your hand, “And it’s over now.” She promises, “No one will ever hurt you again. I’ll die before I let anyone ever hurt you again.”

She wants to climb into bed with you. Take your frail body in her arms and hold you close. Curl her hands through your hair and cradle you into consciousness. Wake you with soft kisses and soft words and never let you go ever again.

But she doesn’t.

There’s a tight bandage around your midriff that has her wary.

Instead, she scoots herself as close as she can possibly get, and rubs her nose against yours.

“Wake up, baby,” She coaxes, voice soft. She presses another soft kiss to your lips, “Wake up and come back to me.”

The heartbeat monitor beeps.

And then you feel it all at once.

Color drains back into your cheeks. There’s air in your lungs. Your throat is dry, like sandpaper. Pain, and drugs pump through your body.

You groan, your eyes flitting open.

And the first thing you see is her pretty brown eyes staring back into yours. Her eyes are wide, loving, hopeful. Like she's just witnessed a miracle. 

“Tara.” 

#all hers #scream #scream vi #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x yn #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x yn #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #fanfic #mine #ghostface!tara

[seresinsbabe]

Jealousy, Jealousy.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x f!reader

Synopsis: You get a little jealous about Jake's new coworker, but instead of telling him why you decide to try and make him jealous instead.

Warnings: pwp, EXPLICIT smut, face fucking, choking, slapping, light bondage, dirty talk, degrading, praising, over all dom!jake, some fluff at the end.

Word Count: 3k

THIS FIC IS 18+ MINORS DNI!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Green eyes narrowed into slits as he watched you up at the bar. The man you were toying with was fucking you with his eyes and he wasn’t even being shameful about it. That megawatt smile of yours seemed permanently plastered on your face as you forced a laugh at something he was saying.

Jake knew what you were doing.

He knew the second you stepped out of your shared bedroom in that dress. The one that hugged your curves in all the right places and dipped just low enough to show off your cleavage without looking trashy.

You were pissed at him. He’d talked a little too excitedly about a new coworker. You didn’t know her actual name, just that her call sign was Aphrodite. It was the first time you’d ever felt concerned about the status of your relationship. Jake hadn’t even realized he’d been talking about her so excitedly. He was just happy that he wasn’t the only one stuck training the new aviators anymore. That someone else could help go over flight plans so he could spend more time with you. Not to mention she was a skilled and experienced aviator herself. Jake enjoyed sharing stories with her.

It wasn’t until you’d asked how work with Aphrodite had been that he realized something was wrong. It was the way you said her name. Like it was poison and you were trying to spit it out of your mouth. Jake knew you well enough to know what that meant. When he asked you about it you just deflected, chalked it up to you just being tired and moody. He didn’t buy it, but he was running late and he figured you would talk to him about it when you were ready. 

That was one of the things you loved about Jake. He never pushed you to talk, he just offered you a lap to snuggle into and waited until you opened up. It was different this time. You’d sunk so deep into a level of insecurity you hadn’t felt since before Jake cockily walked into your life. 

The way he’d talked about Aphrodite brought up memories from your previous relationships. Even if in all reality it wasn’t anything you should have been suspicious about.

Still, you’d sunk so deep as a defense mechanism you had surpassed the crying or arguing phase. You’d gone straight for the antagonizing phase. Wanting to see how far you could push him before he finally got pissed off enough.

Jake had never experienced you being this jealous before. He always thought you knew how much he loved you. Maybe he had taken that for granted. As far as he was concerned you’d hung the moon and the stars and there was no one better than you. He had no idea that there was the tiniest bit of insecurity in you. That some pretty, hotshot pilot would come along and he would find in them something he couldn’t find in you. 

You weren’t a pilot. And sure, you were a military brat, but you worked for a book editor. Your job was boring. You didn’t save anyones life, you just proofread young adult fantasy novels and porn with plot books. What was exciting about that in comparison to a fighter pilot who was so pretty her call sign was the goddess of beauty?

What you didn’t know was earlier that week Jake had shown Aphrodite the ring he’d picked out. It was almost as beautiful as you are and when he saw it, he just knew it would look pretty on your hand. And the woman had gushed about it. Asking Jake where he’d gotten it because she was preparing to pop the question to her own long term girlfriend. 

Right now he was wishing he’d already asked you. So that way the ring would shine right in the douchebag's eye.

His eyes never left you, even as the man who’d just bought you another drink led you out to the dancefloor. If Jake didn’t know any better he would have caused a scene. Hell, he came close until you finally met his gaze. The glint in your eyes reminded him that you were doing this on purpose. You wanted to get a rise out of him, but he wasn’t going to give you that satisfaction.

Jake would remind you at home why his body was the only one you should be pressed against in the middle of some pretentious club.

“You think you’re so slick, don’t you little one?” Jake’s voice was low as he pinned you against the wall in the entryway of your home. 

A grin curved your lips and the mischievous glint in your eyes came back. “Whatever are you talking about? I was a perfectly good girl tonight.” A blatant lie if you’d ever heard one. Your actions tonight had gotten you in exactly the position you wanted to be in.

Jake didn’t say anything, instead he just hoisted you over his shoulder. A harsh smack landed on your cheek and had you yelping.

Once in your room he set you down and you were finally able to get a good look at his eyes. They were a much darker shade of green than normal. “On your knees.” It was an order and from his tone you knew not to disobey. Your knees hit the plush carpeting in your bedroom and his hand came down to caress your cheek. “You remember your safe word sweetheart?” His voice was sweeter, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement. “Good. Color?”

“Green.” 

Jake’s face changed again. You could feel your pussy clenching around nothing at the idea of what all he might do to you. His belt was the first article of clothing to come off, but rather than discard it on the floor it was wrapped around your neck. Jake pulled tight enough to send the sensation straight to your core, but not so tight it was dangerous. 

You let out a moan and your eyes rolled back just slightly. The blonde aviator felt himself grow harder at the sight. He loved having you like this and he planned on fucking you so hard all the came out of you was incoherent babbles. Jake was going to make a mess of the woman he loved.

His cock was straining against his jeans and he finally undid them, pushing them down just enough to release himself. “Open your mouth.” You did as you were told and watched as Jake pursed his lips to spit. The glob of saliva landing perfectly on your tongue. “Swallow.” Again you did as you were told and seeing the pride in his eyes as you listened had more arousal coating your thighs. “I’m going to fuck your throat little one, if you need to me to stop you tap my knee twice.” You nodded, trying to keep your excitement at bay. “Open up.”

No sooner had you opened your mouth was his cock sliding in, the head of him tapping the back of your throat. You felt your throat constrict at the intrusion and Jake groaned at the sensation. The sound went straight to your pussy. Fuck, everything Jake did went straight to your pussy. You were addicted to the man and the way he made you feel in every aspect of your relationship.

He gave you a minute to prepare, the hand that wasn’t holding onto the belt wound into your hair, gripping at the crown of your head to give him leverage. Then he was thrusting, skull fucking you in a way he’d only done a few times since you’d been together. When you’d been especially bratty like you’d been tonight. 

“Su..ungh..uch a good girl.” He grunted and the praise had you moaning on his cock between gags. Each sound Jake drew out of you only had him fucking you harder. Tears were streaming down your face, the smokey shadow and mascara you had on streaking down your cheeks.

You could feel his cock twitch in your throat and you knew he was close. You were waiting to feel him cum down your throat, but it never came, instead he pulled his cock out, tapping you softly on the cheek.

“Ah, on all fours.” The command came as you went to push up on your feet. You dropped to your hands, looking up at Jake through lashes that were clumped together from your tears. He licked his lips, his pupils blown out with lust as he looked at you on all fours. 

The belt around your neck was used as a makeshift leash, Jake walking you towards your bed where he sat on the edge. His hard cock stood straight up, resting against his abdomen. Your eyes were drawn to it, staring until he spoke again.

“Look at you.” He hummed, finally letting go of the belt so he could grip your chin. “On all fours like some kind of bitch,” normally he would never call you that and you would never stand for it. Right now, though? Fuck did it do things to you. “I bet your pussy is just dripping down your thighs right now. Turn around, put that ass up, daddy wants to see.” He tapped your cheek a little harder this time before nodding his head.

Biting your lip you turned around and arched your ass up, pressing your face close to the floor. From behind you the groan he let out was low. Suddenly two of his fingers were swiping from your clenching hole down to your clit and then they were gone. You whimpered and turned to look only to find Jake stroking himself, using your arousal as lubricant. The sight had you whimpering and wiggling your ass in the air. Asking for him to fuck you, but he just shook his head. 

“Not yet, little one. C’mere.” His accent slipped a little, indicating just how aroused he was at the moment. 

When you reached him again he lifted you up and laid you on your back on bed. With one hand he held your wrists above your head and with the other he secured your hands to the head board.

Jake didn’t want you running from the pleasure and he knew without the restraint that’s exactly what you would do. “Be a good girl for daddy and try not to move too much.” He knew he could only ask so much, because he knew what he was about to do.

A kiss was placed on your forehead and then he trailed his nose down along your skin, taking in your scent and leaving nips here and there. Well, not really nips. They were marks. Ones that you knew you’d see come morning.

Upon reaching your nipple he bit down roughly. You yelped again but that quickly changed into a moan as you bucked your hips, searching for some sort of friction. Jake sucked your nipple into his mouth while he spread your legs and situated himself between them before continuing his trek down. 

Coming face to face with your sloppy cunt he ran his nose along your inner thighs, nipping as he went. The scent of your arousal made him groan. You always smelled so sweet, especially when you were this worked up.

His arms snaked under and around your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he settled with his face centimeters away from your cunt. “No coming until I say so.” 

Fuck. You were in for a long night. 

“Oh-ungh!” You whimpered out as his tongue licked a stripe up your slit. Your hips moved and Jake’s grip tightened to hold you still.

Collecting some of your slick on his thumb he pressed hard circles into your clit as his tongue dove into your cunt. You cried out loudly, your head thrashing back. Jake was eating you like you were his last meal and it was a fucking heavenly experience. You’d never met a man as skilled with his mouth as Jake was, but Jake had also never loved eating someone the way he did with you. If all he had to survive on was your pussy, he would die one happy man.

“Daddy…p-puh...so…gonna…” Just as you felt that blinding light about to hit the ministrations stopped.

Your eyes shot open and Jake felt his cock grow harder at the wild look in your eyes. “What did daddy say?” You whimpered, but didn’t answer him. “Words little one, or you won’t cum at all tonight.” The threat had you stilling because you knew it was true. He would absolutely deprive you of an orgasm. He’d done it before.

“No coming.” You whined, but nodded your head in agreement.

“Good girl, he purred and dipped his head back down. Only this time he sucked your clit into his mouth while two of his fingers dove inside of you. 

“Daddy!” The sensations were so getting so intense you dug your heels into the mattress and tried to push away, but Jake wouldn’t let you. Instead the arm that was still looped around one of your thighs tightened again, squeezing almost painfully. 

Jake could feel you clench around his fingers and just before you came he pulled his fingers out of you. Making you cry out, tears blurring your vision again. You could barely make out how swollen and red his cock had grown as he rubbed it up and down your slit.

Jake’s hand came up, wrapping up in your hair again and gripping it tightly. After pumping his cock a few times he gripped your hip and in one thrust he bottomed out inside of you. You let out a scream as your back arched up the bed violently. 

He wasn’t slow in his thrusts. Each one was hard and meaningful. “Open your eyes little one,” you registered the words but your brain was becoming so fuzzy you didn’t obey. Until he slapped, not hard enough to really do any damage, but enough that it had your eyes shooting open. “There are those pretty eyes.” He grunted. 

His fingers dug into your hip so hard you knew he was going to leave bruises. “Want to tell daddy why you were being such a brat tonight?” Jake had leaned forward, his eyes staring into yours.

“A-aphr…fuck!” The tip of his cock brushed against your cervix in a painfully pleasurable way.

“Come on baby girl, spit it out.” Your eyes rolled back into your head when he changed the angle of his thrust just slightly. Just enough to hit your sweet spot.

“J-fuck-je..d-daddy…” you couldn’t even form a sentence right now and he was trying to get you to tell him you were jealous.

“Were you jealous of Aphrodite, baby?”

At first all you could do was nod. “Y-yes!” Jake’s lips met yours in a bruising kiss. His thrusts became a bit more erratic and you could tell he was trying to hold his own orgasm back.

“Thank you for telling daddy,” he hummed against your lips. Then he was pinching your clit and hammering your sweet spot over and over. “You can cum for daddy.”

And cum you did. Hard. Your screams so loud you knew that your throat would be raw come tomorrow, especially with the way he’d fucked your throat earlier. Jake’s orgasm came just a few thrust later. His seed coating your walls as his thrusts slowed down, softly fucking the both of you through your orgasms.

He reached up to undo the belt and as soon as your hands were free you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You didn’t even realize you’d started crying until Jake was cooing at you. “Hey sweet girl, why are you crying? Did I hurt you?” His voice was soft and sweet as he wiped the tears from your eyes.

“No. I’m just…I’m sorry about everything I did at the club.” Your voice was weak, both from screaming and from being vulnerable. “I-I just was so scared that you were going to leave me, because y-you talk about Aphrodite so much and like you w-were smitten.” You sobbed out, burning your head into his chest.

Jake sat up, pulling you into his lap and squeezing you tightly. Gently he lifted your chin so you would look at him. “Baby girl, I could never love anyone the way I love you. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, but I wish you would have said something first.” He let out a sigh and reached over to the night stand on his side of the bed. 

You watched, trying to calm your sobs from your insecurity finally bubbling up now that the anger had been effectively fucked out of you.

Just when your heart was starting to calm down it picked right back up as your eyes landed on the little velvet box in his hands.

“This wasn’t exactly how I planned on doing this, but I think it’s warranted.” He chuckled and popped open the box. The diamonds in the ring sparkled as the dim light in the bedroom bounced off it.

Another fresh round of tears started streaming down your cheeks as you processed what was happening.

“Sweets, will you marry me?”

You practically tackled him into the headboard with your kiss. Gripping onto him so tightly, like this was all a dream and you’d wake up as soon as you let go.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He chuckled breathlessly when you finally pulled away.

“Absolutely, Aphrodite can suck it.”

“Sweets, I think she’d rather steal you from me than steal me from you.” Jake let out a loud laugh as he watched the realization cross your face in the form of a crimson blush.

You smacked his bicep, staring at him incredulously. “You couldn’t have told me that before I danced with that cretin at the club?!”

Jake flinched back from you, rubbing the spit you’d hit. “Well it wasn’t like you gave me a chance!” 

You groaned and let yourself fall back on the bed, your messy hair splaying around you like halo. Jake chuckled as he picked you, bridal style this time. “Come on, let’s go take a warm bath, fiancée.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The long awaited smut, here you go baby girls

@topguncortez

@sebsxphia

@paigewinchester67

#hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman top gun #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #hangman smut #top gun maverick #top gun smut

[tybalt-you-saucy-boi]

Let's talk about what Winner's Theory means for the next season of Life SMP, and what we could see depending on who wins Secret Life.

Disclaimer: I know this is just a theory and they don't actually base the new games off of the winners of the previous season, but that's the fun of theorizing.

Etho - Underselling himself, no longer the best at PVP, but with a long legacy of obliterating all competition in death games. Loyal to a fault to his team, with no expectations from them in return. A bit similar to how Scott plays in terms of his alliances, but more likely to be hostile towards others outside of his group. We could see another season similar to Double Life, with game-mechanic incentive to keep your teammates safe at all cost.

Cleo - Similar to Etho, but with a lot more arson. She's also loyal to her team, but if anyone crosses her they will be her biggest target, regardless of a previous alliance. You cannot betray Cleo without life altering consequences. You get one chance and then it's over. I would expect something that will be ruthless and unforgiving if you make the wrong move. Something that feels like stepping on eggshells.

Sidenote: Cleo is the only member of the Divorce Quartet without a win so far, and it would really tickle me if this was her season.

Joel - He's a leader, but also distant from his pack. Only one in his alliance to live outside their walls. First one on yellow. Started a cult. He's with them but he's also with himself. His game is vengeance, for Lizzie, for Jimmy, for Mumbo. His season will be brutal. It will start out brutal and it will end brutally. Players will be picking themselves up from the floor the minute they spawn in. Imagine a season where everyone starts in the Nether. That's Joel's revenge.

Bigb - You thought Cleo was gaslight? This man can pack some fire in his words. And what a season for it! His alliance is pretty much doomed, trying to pull themselves out of the wreckage, but he's got plans that go beyond Skizz and Tango. Right from the get-go with his first task he's marked as the odd one out. He gives out lies like they're candy, and not just for his own preservation, but for FUN. His winner's season will be built on chaos, not knowing where you stand among everyone else, and rewarded for tricking and betraying others. This will be the return of the Boogeyman.

Gem - Big risks, big rewards, bigger fury. The newest member of the series and defying all odds to earn her place in victory, in her season players will face challenges they've never seen before, but will be stronger beyond measure if they come out alive on the other end. Regardless of which life you're on, you'll have just as much chance of winning right up to the end, but the victor must be prepared to risk it all for their spot of glory. This will not be a season to shrink back from and make logical plans before acting. One must have quick feet.

Impulse - Almost the opposite of Gem, Impulse has taken his time, patience is his virtue. He's been so close to winning, but he'll know when the time is right to strike. He'll do whatever it takes, but it will be intentional and planned. I anticipate his season will be one with rough terrain, similar to the big rift in the middle of the Double Life map dividing everyone across a chasm. Reaching other players will be treacherous by foot, but ripe for planning elaborate traps and schemes to secure the win. Most certainly players will need to work hard for it.

Scar - Lone wolves roam free! He's been forced to work for himself alone this season, and so far he's reaped plenty rewards! The next season will give players a motive to work alone, and they will have to build themselves up using their own ingenuity and wits. Making yourself look like an underdog will be vital, stealing will be even more necessary, and the world will be ripe for monopolies. It's a real war out there, and you can't trust anyone.

#secret life #life series #life series smp #traffic life #traffic life series #traffic life smp #traffic series #traffic smp #trafficblr #trafficsmp #etho #ethoslab #zombie cleo #zombiecleo #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #bigbst4tz2 #bigbstatz #Bigb #geminitay #impulsesv #goodtimeswithscar #gtws #gtwscar #hermitcraft

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

New Faces in New Places

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: none really, just run of the mill teen wolf dangers lol

Genre: fluff I'd say

Summary: After a few signs from your familiar you're moving to a new town and you find out very quickly that it is anything but ordinary

***

You cross-reference the address your mom gave you with the building you're currently parked in front of. It looks like the right place but man, moving to a new town is always a hassle.

"We finally made it Ellie. You almost burned down my old apartment to get me here but- we made it. You'll have to wait here though, okay? I know mom trusts this guy but I'm not too eager to bring you into a vet's office for no reason." You say to your bird before you get out of the car. You make sure to leave the windows down because heavens know how long you'll be here. You walk into the office, startled slightly by the sound of the bell over the door. A Black man walks out of the back room wearing a lab coat over his maroon colored button-down. He's bald and has neatly trimmed facial hair.

"Hello. How can I help you?" He asks.

"Hi, Dr. Alan Deaton, I'm guessing?"

"Excuse me, do I know you?"

"Not me. But you do know my mother."

"And who is your mother?" He asks, an eyebrow quirking up at you. You wave a hand over your wrist, exposing your family crest marked into your skin, and show it to him.

"My goodness." He gasps stepping back. He swings open the door by the counter and gestures for you to follow him through the doorway he originally came through. "It's like seeing a ghost. I never thought I'd be seeing that crest again after your mother and I went our separate ways. Wait is she-"

"She's fine. Living her best life in Europe." You say, eyes shifting around the room to take it in as you lean against the metal exam table.

"That's good. What brings you here then?"

"Actually, my familiar. Kind of. She knocked over a candle that burned this spot on a map and when I did some digging, spoke to my mom and she told me it had to be here. Also that I'd find you at this place."

"I wasn't aware your mother still knew where I was but honestly leave it to her to keep track of her associates." He chuckles.

"Yeah, she told me if I was coming to Beacon Hills I had to find you first. So what do I need to know about your little town?" You ask.

"Oh well, we definitely get a lot of strange activity here. Beacon Hills has a nematon."

"Beacon Hills has a nematon?" That gets your attention. You had no idea.

"It was cut down many years ago so it's been dormant for quite some time until recently when a group of teenagers accidentally reactivated it."

"A group of teenagers reactivated a nematon?! What the hell kind of teenagers are running around here?" You blink at him.

"They weren't trying to. They were only trying to track down their parents and stop some human sacrifices."

"And they somehow reactivated a nematon? And they did that accidentally on their own?"

"I didn't know it would reactivate a chopped down tree but we also didn't have many other options at the time."

"So I take it you're quite involved with this group of teenagers?" You ask.

"Their ringleader works for me." He shrugs.

"Their ringleader works for you? So you're the adult to our resident Scooby gang." You laugh.

"What?"

"A Scooby gang is the term I use for a group of teenagers who have a knack for getting into shenanigans they have no business getting into." You shrug.

"Well, you know. Druids are advisors by nature."

"Sure- to supernaturals usually. Is this group of kids supernaturals?"

"Not all of them."

"Not all of them?! Are there a lot of supernatural kids around here?"

"Relatively?"

"What does that mean-?" You shake your head.

"Deaton! We need your help! It's Isaac- something's wrong he's not healing!" The frantic yelling along with loud movement from the front of the office turns your attention from Deaton to the doorway, your question forgotten as a man with dark hair comes barrelling in with a younger boy behind him carrying another. They all halt at the door when they see you standing there and you're smart enough to pivot so you're standing next to Deaton, out of the way assuming they intend to lay the half-conscious one on the table.

"Well don't just stand there bring him here. What happened?" Deaton asks. The man steps to the side boy carrying the other can lay him on the table.

"Wolfsbane." You say quietly, immediately picking up its signature with a magical scan of the boy.

"What?" Deaton's gaze snaps to you.

"It's Wolfsbane, we have to get it out of his system if you want him to heal himself. Do you know what kind? How it got in his system?"

"Does that matter?" The man asks staring at you from across the exam table.

"Kind of. All of that stuff affects potency and subsequently the best solution to-"

"Y/n." Deaton says gently.

"He's a bit old for your Scooby gang but I take it he's part of it?"

"I should've prefaced. They aren't all teenagers."

"Noted. But he is. And he's dying." Your gaze shoots down to the kid on the table again. "How do you want to go about this?" You ask crossing your arms.

"Can you tell me if it's yellow wolfsbane?" He asks.

"It's not." You say after a moment of your eyes flitting across the gash in his side.

"Good. So we can burn it out of him."

"You're going to induce a fever?" You ask and Deaton shakes his head.

"He's bleeding too much too fast. You'll have to burn it out."

"Me?" You blink at him.

"You know how to right?"

"Of course I do." You say.

"Well I don't keep a torch in the office so yes you'll have to do it." Deaton nods. You hardly notice the other two watching your conversation like it's a tennis match, both sets of eyes darting back and forth between you as you talk quickly with Deaton.

"Very well." You sigh rotating your neck and cracking your knuckles in preparation. You grasp the young boy's hand.

"What is she doing?" The man asks, almost growling as he shoots a glare.

"Saving Isaac's life. Back down Derek. You came here for help." Deaton says.

"Hi, Isaac. My name's y/n. I'm gonna do my best to make it quick but this is gonna be uncomfortable for a little while so- feel free to scream or break my hand." You say gently to the boy on the table, Isaac you presume, before closing your eyes. When they open again your irises are literal flames that shock the two people watching you carefully as their friend's life is in your hands. Isaac groans, his back arching off the table and his fingers squeezing around your hand with a strength that would probably crush it if he wasn't currently bleeding out on the table. It takes longer than you expect, seeking out and burning the wolfsbane coursing through his blood, but after a few minutes his blood starts to boil and you know there's no more of the deadly plant in his system. You close out your spell and wait for his grip to loosen before releasing his hand.

"I think you should wrap that gash. He's clear now but- there's no way of knowing when his healing will kick in." You tell Deaton. Deaton nods and grabs a gauze pad and medical tape.

"He'll be okay?" The other teenager looks at you and Deaton.

"Yeah he'll be fine." Deaton nods.

"What are you?" The teenager looks at you curiously.

"Who are you?" The man asks, his gaze is still skeptical but much less hostile, there's something in his eyes that you can't quite identify. Akin to awe but not quite.

"Scott, Derek, this is y/n. She's new in town. Y/n, this is Scott McCall and Derek Hale."

"Members of your Scooby gang." You say.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Derek asks.

"Before you walked in here Deaton was telling me about a particularly atypical group of teenagers that had a knack for getting into shenanigans."

"I'm not a teenager." Derek says.

"You haven't already met Stiles have you?" Scott asks. You turn to Deaton with a confused look on your face.

"Scott's best friend. Shenanigan might as well be his middle name. He's quite the erratic kid." Deaton explains.

"Ah- well, no. You, four are my intro to Beacon Hills." You say. Isaac groans as his eyes finally start to open. His half-lidded gaze turns to you and his brows furrow as he tries to identify the stranger in the room.

"You saved me." He mutters. "Are you an angel?" He asks suspiciously making you giggle at the question.

"No sweetie. In fact, some people would call me the opposite."

"Y/n don't freak him out." Deaton chuckles.

"No angel, just a witch. But welcome back. Whoever did this knicked you real good." You tell him with a soft smile and gentle squeeze of his arm.

"Well- thank you." Isaac says.

"A witch?" Scott blinks at you.

"Yep. I don't understand how this kid got wolfsbane poisoning. Are there hunters in Beacon Hills?" You frown at Deaton.

"Sometimes." Deaton says.

"One of them's an ally now though. He helps us a lot." Scott says.

"Hunters and werewolves working together. This is one interesting little town." You muse.

"You'll get used to it pretty quick." Deaton chuckles.

"Oh I'm sure. I'd hang around but Ellie will start to get antsy if she doesn't get out of her carrier soon so I have to find my house. I'll be in touch Deaton. I have a feeling this conversation is far from over." You say.

"You can call me when you get settled if you have any immediate questions. Or swing by later." Deaton says writing his number on the back of a card.

"You rest up Isaac at least a few hours before you do anything strenuous. And watch that gash, if it doesn't start healing within the hour come back to Deaton. And I assume you two will look after him. Nice to meet you all." You say to the trio of wolves before taking the card from Deaton and leaving the office. You don't notice the way Derek's eyes follow you but Deaton does, and he has to make a conscious effort to stifle his smile.

A week later and you're mostly settled into your new home. Ellie is also pretty well acquainted with her new space, which is great because she can be quite particular.

"Something interesting out there Ellie?" You ask when your bird perches by the window, staring outside as intently as a bird can. Her wings flutter fiercely for a moment and she attempts to pry open the window with her beak. You quickly stand from your couch and whistle at her, tapping your finger to guide her over.

"I take it we have to be somewhere? Now when I take you out there wait for me to get on my bike before you start rushing off to whatever danger you're chasing." You warn her as you put on your shoes. She coos at you with her head tilted slightly and you roll your eyes before leaving your apartment. Outside you barely manage to get the bike running before Ellie flies off down a street.

"Dammit Ellie." You huff, speeding after her on your bike, looking up every so often to check her flight path. She eventually perches on a perches on a light by a warehouse and you take off your helmet ready to curse her for being so frantic but the sound of voices inside grabs your attention.

"I told you not to rush off you silly bird." You hiss at her when she flies down to sit on your shoulder as you approach the door curiously. You can see two people standing to the side but ready to jump in along with three, no four, people circling each other and you can hear growling, which is cleared up when one of the faces is revealed to be Scott from Deaton's office. You've had a couple more conversations with Deaton since your first one and have since learned that Scott is the ringleader he'd mentioned that first day and that he's got a whole bunch of supernatural friends. You whistle loudly enough to get everyone's attention and six pairs of eyes snap to you. You recognize Isaac in the bunch too. The two other guys they were growling at don't match any of the descriptions Deaton's given you so, process of elimination tells you the other two people looking at you must be Stiles and Lydia.

"Whatever you think you saw, you didn't we were just teens doing- teen goof things." Stiles, you're pretty sure, frantically says.

"You know Stiles I'd have expected a better excuse from you." You say. "That is Stiles right?" You ask Scott. He and Isaac nod which causes Stiles to look frantically between the three of you.

"How do you know my name?! And you two know her? Why don't I know her? Who are you?" Stiles asks.

"I'm gonna ask that you hold all questions briefly." You tell Stiles before turning your attention to the two unidentified individuals who still look to be on guard. "You two, I'm guessing, do not belong here." You address them only to be met with a growl that you immediately counter with a command. "Ciúin." You say sharply and their aggression dwindles. "I suggest you both return to where you belong of your own free will while you can. This territory is not up for grabs." You say sternly, flashing your magic in warning. The boys glare at you as if they are planning to challenge your demand but neither seems willing to take the risk when they meet your warning gaze. After a stretch of silence, they let out another growl at Scott and Isaac before leaving.

"We totally could've taken them." Isaac huffs.

"What did you do?" Scott asks.

"Nothing really just- a scare tactic I learned some years ago." You shrug.

"Well thank you." He nods.

"Can I ask my questions now?" Stiles asks.

"Stiles, Lydia, this is y/n. She's new to Beacon Hills." Scott says to his friends.

"So how do you already know her?" Stiles asks.

"She knows Deaton. And, she saved Isaac's life." Scott says.

"Yeah." Isaac nods. "Hi again." He says to you with a shy smile.

"Hi, Isaac. You look much better than the last time I saw you." You return his smile with one of your own when he straightens up at your attention.

"So do you! I- I mean, now that I'm not like half-conscious or whatever." He says awkwardly shifting his gaze from you.

"Hey, how did you even know we'd be here?" Scott asks you.

"Ellie." You say lifting your shoulder slightly to show off the bird still perched there contently. "She flew right to you." You add, handing her a treat you conjured.

"That's a pigeon." Stiles says.

"She's my familiar." You correct him.

"You have a familiar?" Lydia asks.

"Correct." You nod.

"What does that mean? Is she not human?" Stiles asks Lydia.

"I'm a witch. Think druid but cooler." You wink at him. "Don't tell Deaton I said that." You add in a stage whisper that makes the others laugh.

"So is that how you knew my name?" Stiles asks.

"No. Deaton's just been giving me the 411 on everyone I need to know about so I made a guess based on the names and descriptions I have." You say.

"Scott we've gotta have a talk man. When you meet people who might be of significance like witches you're supposed to tell me!" Stiles says.

"I figured you'd meet her yourself soon enough." Scott shrugs.

"Before this continues- because I'm sure it will. What were those guys doing here anyway?" You ask interrupting the couple's quarrel that's about to start.

"They were- sending a message." Isaac says.

"A message? To whom?" You frown.

"Scott. Looks like word's gotten around that he's an alpha."

"It's a good thing you showed up when you did because I had a really bad feeling about them fighting." Lydia mutters.

"I guess Ellie's taken a liking to you all. She's the one who sensed there was trouble."

"Thank you Ellie." Scott says nodding at your bird.

"You all should get out of here and head home before any more trouble comes looking for you." You say.

"Will you be alright getting home?" Isaac asks you.

"I should be asking you all that." You chuckle.

"Stiles will drive us." Scott tells you.

"So?" Isaac prompts.

"I appreciate the concern hon but I am an adult, with enough magical power to level a city. I'll be fine on my bike." You laugh. "Now you guys get going." Everyone starts to move towards the door except Stiles, who starts to object when he sees his friends leaving.

"Hang on now just because you stopped a fight doesn't mean you can- woah woah hang on!" Stiles loses his train of thought as Scott drags him towards the warehouse entrance and you chuckle.

"Come on man don't be an ass." Scott mutters to his friend.

"I just want you to know I have more questions for you that I will be asking at a later date!" Stiles calls to you even as he's being removed.

"Deaton has my address! Have him give it to you and you can come by and ask as many questions as you want!" You shout after him.

"I will do exactly that!" He points just before the group exits and you laugh to yourself in the empty warehouse.

"You brought me across the country to protect this group of teenagers?" You ask Ellie. "I hope you know we'll have no more peace." You scoff at her before the two of you leave the warehouse yourselves.

A few hours later a knock on your door pulls you away from the movie you're watching. You place your mug of hot chocolate on the table before walking over to your front door and checking the spyhole to find Derek on your porch.

"Derek?! What are you doing here?" You ask with a frown. You haven't seen him since you met last week and quite frankly you weren't sure you would. He seemed rather apprehensive around you all in all.

"I- heard you helped the kids out of a jam earlier. I wanted to thank you." He says.

"Oh- no need. They probably could've sorted it out themselves honestly but Ellie really felt we had to step in."

"Ellie?"

"My bird, familiar."

"Familiar- that's right, you're a witch."

"I am indeed." You chuckle. "You- said you came here to thank me? I don't want you to feel like you have to do-"

"Oh I don't! Didn't. I'm not here out of obligation I wanted to come. It's not every day someone as pretty as you moves to Beacon Hills."

"Are you flirting with me Derek Hale?" You ask, surprised at his direct line.

"Depends on if it's working." He says.

"Are you here to ask me on a date or not Derek?" You ask. There's a moment of silence before he replies.

"Will you go on a date with me?" He asks.

"I would love to." You smile at him.

"I've been trying to work up the courage to ask you that all week." Derek breathes out.

"How cute. Do you have a phone?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you have it with you?" He hands you the device eagerly and you input your number for him. "You can call me when you've figured out the details." You say handing it back to him. "Okay?" You prompt when all he does is give you a goofy smile.

"Okay." He says still giving you a pleased look that makes you want to laugh at how cute he is. You jolt suddenly when your own phone rings on your coffee table.

"Oh shoot- one second." You say rushing to grab it. Unknown number. "Hello?" You answer walking back over to your front door where Derek has his phone pressed to his ear, looking at you cheekily as he speaks and his voice comes through your device.

"I'll pick you up at 7:30 on Friday?" He asks and you laugh before you give him an answer.

"Didn't realize you already had a plan."

"Oh, I've been planning all week. If you said yes I wanted to be ready."

"Then I will see you Friday. For now, you should go home, looks like it's going to rain." You say noticing the clouds obscuring the usually starry night sky. Derek looks up as if he didn't even realize.

"Right. I'll see you Friday." He says with one last smile before he takes off. You smile to yourself as you return to your movie and hot chocolate. Friday just can't come soon enough. Maybe moving to Beacon Hills was a more perfect idea than you gave Ellie credit for.

***

#teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #derek hale x reader #derek hale #derek hale fanfiction #derek hale fluff

[callmewrinkles3]

Anti-hero - DR3 x Fem!OC

Masterlist.

Summary: 2021 hasn't exactly been the best season, and Dan's struggling with the car not driving how he wants it to. But he didn't realise that Emmy was struggling with her own work.

Warnings: Zak Brown, McLaren era in general, smut (piv, kink behaviour (marking, domination, praise kinks, light choking, consensual pain by pinching and spanking) that are in the context of a long term already defined relationship but are not explicitly discussed on the page, fingering, teasing. They're kinky kids who love it), explicit aftercare, mentions of race crashes (Monza 2021).

Words: 11k

A/N: We're baaaaaack! This is a bit of a departure for us, and we really hope you like it. As always let us know what you think, we love hearing from you!

September 2021

Dan couldn’t admit it to anyone, but the fact that Em was travelling with him everywhere was probably the best thing in his life right then. Most of the time he was miserable and he fully admitted it. McLaren meant his days were hard, the car felt weird, and it sucked. At least in Zandvoort he’d been able to have some fun in the orange cape, cheering Max on. As much as a clusterfuck that championship battle would be a part of.

The one he’d been assured he’d be a part of next year. He didn’t fully believe Zak anymore. He wanted to but something yelled at him not to.

They were sitting in the private terminal waiting to be told the McLaren jet was ready to go, Dan watching as Em worked for the few minutes before they were called. The VIP area had become normal to him, but for her it was new. It was bright and shiny and he still remembered the first time that she said she didn’t feel like she belonged there.

They’d been in bed in Italy in 2019, flying to Monza from Belgium with Max and Christian in one of the most awkward flights of his life while Em was her usual sweet self. She’d told him that private jets were for important people and she was just Em. It led to his joke that her middle name should be Humble, not Charlotte. But she deserved the world, and the world included that she deserved to be in the jet with him and everyone else.

He loved every piece of her, wanted to tell the world that he loved her but they’d agreed to keep things to themselves. He didn’t know how much longer he could do it. They were down to days until Italy and he was going to say everything, he just had to keep it in till then. He had a plan and he was sticking to it.

He pulled out the carefully wrapped package Max had slipped him after several requests with a “Vicky said these are the best.”, smiling at the still crisp treat.

“Em, here.” He held the stroopwafel out carefully, caramel nearly dripping from the edge as she shook her head and took a sip from her Pepsi bottle. “You don’t want one?”

“I’m not a caramel fan, Danny.”

“But this whole week?” Every time someone gave him one he’d take a bite and offer her one, grinning while she smiled and took a dainty bite in between checking things on her tablet. It became easy to pass it over to her.

“You looked so happy feeding me bites, I didn’t want to break your heart by telling you I don’t like caramel. Toffee yeah, but not caramel.” She smiled at him before turning her head back to work, Dan staring at the woman he loved and her pure ridiculousness.

He watched as she stared at her tablet and frowned at it not doing what she wanted. But he wanted to curl up with her on his lap the same way they were when they flew separately. But instead they’d be separated in the luxurious white leather seats, she’d have her head buried in a book with her earplugs in and trying to ignore everyone around her. It’d be fine. It had to be. Even if they were spending it with people she didn’t feel comfortable around.

Before Dan started with the team he knew she didn’t have anything against Lando. He was a kid who’d joined the grid and was fine. Dan didn’t want to know a whole lot about him after the awkward moment of Lando’s best friend asking Em for coffee in the middle of the paddock when he was a Renault junior and Em was there as Dan’s guest. It took time for Dan to let his jealousy go and Em giggled at it, but he’d finally chilled out. Then Em couldn’t totally chill out about Lando after Monaco.

The “I’ve no sympathy for him” was burned into her brain, she’d had more than one nightmare about it. That kid who didn’t know what he was talking about, who hadn’t ever had to experience anything, saying that? He was showing how privileged he was having walked straight into a team that was expected to be at the top of the midfield. Dan had told her stories about the four day warning he had before his HRT debut, she knew how it had been for him. But Em would take anything that anyone said about her - and God knew she had this year - but if you said something about the people she loved then you were essentially invisible to her. And Lando Norris had reached the invisible stage.

She was always unfailingly polite, saying good morning and good night and making small talk as they were in the same group, but other than that it was radio silence between them. Dan had tried to convince her that it was all fine, Lando was just a kid who needed to learn, but she couldn’t let it go. Months later it was still the same.

She got on the plane just ahead of Dan, smiling at the flight attendant before taking the window seat that Dan pointed her at. He took the seat beside her, Blake and Michael slipping into the seats on the other side of the table. He watched as Lando sat in on the other side, Jon and Lando’s parents there too. Someone pulled an Uno deck out and everyone except Lando’s parents and Em started playing it.

She was sat quietly in her seat, one of the cloth bound classics he’d gotten for her birthday in her hand as she read. He could see the tiny loop of her earplugs just visible, knowing she could hear everyone but was tuning it out to concentrate and it broke his heart a little bit. He wanted to pull her onto his lap, kiss the top of her head and tell her to take a nap because he knew she’d slept badly the last few nights but he couldn’t. She’d have killed him if he tried.

Nobody in McLaren knew anything about them. He wasn’t stupid, he knew there were debates on what he and Em were, but nobody knew the truth. He’d told a mechanic on Lando’s side of the garage to shut up when he made a comment about Em’s ass before. There were rumours all around the paddock and online, he wasn’t blind, but they wouldn’t confirm what they had. He wanted to keep Em safe, and nobody being able to prove that she was the love of his life was easier. Everyone in Renault knew about them - he was convinced Cyril had deliberately started a fight so the cameras were away so he could kiss her at the Nurburgring - and even in Red Bull Christian and Simon had made jokes about Dan’s heart eyes whenever Em was at a race. But it was never public, it was always between them. And in McLaren it just didn’t feel right to tell them.

Em was having issues clicking with them, the constant “if you need an assistant” comments from Zak and Andreas just pissing him off. Em was his assistant, she did a fucking great job and she was getting no respect for it. Zak had insisted that it was teething problems and it’d be fine but it had been going on for nearly nine months now. It was like his driving style and the car, it just couldn’t click right.

So they were avoiding sharing planes whenever possible. He’d organise his own charter, or go with a different driver, or anything. They’d even gone with Fernando at one point, Nando quizzing Dan on the clusterfuck that was the Renault upper echelons while they flew. Or they’d book commercial and deal with looks and selfie requests, because even being on a plane with 150 strangers was better for her anxiety than a tiny jet with people who she didn’t like. Which made no sense to Dan because people at every other team had liked her. There was a reason that she had a standing invitation into multiple hospitality suites if she wanted it.

But they couldn’t help it going to Monza. It was the final leg of the triple header, everyone exhausted and wanting more sleep. So it was easier to say yes and go so they got to the hotel earlier and actually got some sleep. But it meant that he couldn’t cuddle her, he couldn’t even hold her hand and snuggle with her to forget the world existed. Instead she sat there curled in on herself as she was halfway through Pride and Prejudice, a frown on her face and Dan unable to kiss it away.

After a torturous half hour of flying without touching her Dan was tired of it. Friends got to be affectionate with each other, he’d hugged her in public before. He could be touchy with his best friend. He laid his hand over hers, fingers lying in the gaps. She’d put one hand on the armrest as her other hand held her tablet, half looking out the window at the dark night and half paying attention to her screen. She barely even reacted to him, just her fingers loosening and then lacing with his to squeeze for a moment. It said more to him than a thousand words could have.

He knew her well enough to know she’d be silent during the flight, but he wanted to make her smile instead of the small frown on her face. If they were alone he’d have pressed kisses across her cheeks and nose to make her laugh, asking him to stop because his stubble was scratching her. But that wasn’t an option until they were in the hotel in a few hours. The next best option was texting, watching as the notification of his text appeared on her tablet.

The sky should be really jealous.

???

Because it’s pretty outside but it’s nowhere near as pretty as you.

Cocky. Should be jealous of you though, black looks good on you.

You look better on me than black does.

You’re gonna say we can test it out when we get to the hotel, aren’t you?

U know me so well.

Nobody else noticed the tiny smile that appeared on her face, but Dan did. It was there for barely a second but it was enough. At least until he could make sure she was smiling when they were fully alone.

It wasn’t until they were in the car on the way to the hotel and away from the airport that he could hold her hand and press a kiss to her fingers. There were no questions about where anyone was sitting or who was driving, he got straight into the back seat with Emmy, gripping her hand across the middle seat.

“Can we go for pizza after we check into the hotel? I’ve been waiting for one.”

“Already thinking about pizza?” Michael asked it and Dan frowned at his tone, taking it as exhausted.

“I’m never not thinking about pizza in Monza. This pizza keeps me going through the year. Plus, I didn’t throw anyone off the plane or start an argument so I deserve it.”

“You kind of do,” Dan affirmed, lifting their joined hands to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

Emmy’s wishes were his command so if his girl wanted pizza he wasn’t saying no. The fact that her favourite pizza place was also his favourite was an extra point in their relationship. After they checked in, left their things in rooms and Dan pulled her to his room for a quickie to prove his theory of the best way he looked, they left the room to have dinner.

He loved Italy. It was his family’s country, it was the first place that he’d lived on his own in Red Bull supplied housing, he had thousands of memories there. But his favourite ones were Em in Italy with him.

She always seemed happier there, more carefree. The first time he’d brought her to Italy was that first week in Monaco, eating pasta and showing her places he loved. Even when they were busy with work at races she carried herself differently there. When they had their post Monza vacation every year she was always completely relaxed. He grinned just watching her.

He could feel her relax against him as they got out of the car a few streets away from the pizza place. It always felt like he was a little bit of a spy in a foreign land when he was in Monza, the Tifosi out in force. But she was so chilled out that she didn’t say anything when he reached for her hand and held it tightly. Any time they were in public she always gave him her Dan, we’re in public face because they didn’t need any more rumours or people on the internet asking what they were. They didn’t need more people whispering about them.

He didn’t care about it. He couldn’t care less if people talked about him, that came with the territory of his job. But he couldn’t handle people talking about Em and gossiping about her. So he tried to keep his hands from her even when he kept reaching out to take her hand walking anywhere. That night he couldn’t stay away from her and she didn’t say anything about him holding her hand walking down semi familiar streets, or his hand on her lower back as they were brought to their table, or his arm around her shoulder pulling her in for a hug. She didn’t give him a little look or a gentle nudge in the stomach, no whisper to leave her alone while they were in public. It was completely the opposite, after a sip of his beer she was fully leaned against his side and half snuggling him.

“You know what we should do?” Dan whispered in her ear, only half listening to the debate that Michael and Blake were having about the Black Widow movie.

“I’m scared but curious. Tell me,” Em answered as she ignored her lemon drink in favour of another sip from his one allowed beer before a race week fully started.

“Buy a house in Italy.” He watched as her eyes lit up and her face started to move to a grin before she forced it down.

“You’re the most ridiculous man in the world. When would you have time to spend in Italy?”

“We totally could. A cute little house, a couple of bedrooms, a garden, by one of the lakes. It’d be perfect. We should do it.”

“You’re insane.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s not!”

She was saying no but the smile she was fighting to keep off her face was enough to make Dan know it was an excellent idea. After they got engaged and found a place in London he was gonna start trying to find somewhere for them. And hopefully some kids. Showing their kids where their family was from, even if it wasn’t Sicily.

They spent the rest of the night chatting and laughing, eating pizza and joining in the conversation with their friends. Em pretended she was sticking to just soft drinks, stealing a sip from his beer every now and then as Dan winked at her and tried so hard not to kiss her wrinkled nose. The four of them walked back to their hotel as Dan forced himself not to take her hand and kiss her on the street. He had a plan and he was sticking to it. This time next week he'd be on a proper date with her, kissing her and then asking her the question that had been burning a hole in his bag since the previous Christmas. It was going to be perfect.

**

Em loved lazy Wednesdays in Italy. The fact that she'd had enough of them to know that was a magical feeling. It was the end of their triple header, just one more race to go and then they got to relax and spend a couple of days on the shores of Lake Como. Dan had taken control of booking their trip, a cute villa slightly outside the main tourist area. They spent the day relaxing for most of it. Dan had given her a list of restaurants to look at and they mapped out where they’d eat for the three days. They would have killed for longer but it just wasn’t possible in the middle of the season.

That evening was a sponsor dinner that she had to dress up for and look appropriate to be on Dan’s arm. She hated those nights with a passion. She had to be in a fancy dress and full makeup, talking to the rich men who wanted Dan at events. At least this one was for Google Italy, it was more fun than some of the other events she’d been at. A particularly boring DeWalt shoot came to mind on that.

It was Google shmoozing their own clients, using Dan and Lando to do it. Em stayed on Dan’s arm for the entire night as she smiled and shook hands. Halfway through Zak found them and stopped to talk, his own wife there with him. It was Em left with Tracy for a few moments while Zak took Dan around to speak. The two women had wine glasses in their hands and looked around the room.

“Having a good evening, Emma?” Tracy asked, Em nodding.

“It’s Em, but yeah. These events aren’t always fun but it’s nice to see Dan in his element. It’s part of the job.”

“I suppose. Not every assistant does what you do.” Em took a sip of her wine, careful not to knock the glass back like she really wanted to.

“Dan and I were friends before I started working for him. If it means that Dan can enjoy events a bit more then I don’t mind.” Tracy watched her closely for a few moments but nodded as their respective dates for the night returned.

“Sorry about that, I had to double check some things. Daniel, you’re in with Valtteri for the press conference tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I am. Should be fun. We’re gonna head off, it’s a busy day tomorrow. See you at the track?”

He took Em’s arm and pulled her along out of the room, the two of them getting into the car and heading back to their hotel. She was tired from the busy room and having to be on around people but she kept it together as they drove on. Dan held her hand on the way back, fingers locked as he pushed a kiss to them. She smiled, looking forward to getting into bed and out of the dress she was in. Even if Dan looked excellent in his suit.

She started pulling pins out of her hair to take it out of the undo she’d managed, Dan standing beside her and pulling them out too. Once they were out he started kissing along her shoulder as he pushed her dress down. Em threw her head back to give him more access before they made it to bed.

Thursdays were weird now. Instead of press conferences it was all digital, the journalists in their hotel rooms asking questions. It meant more setup meetings, more talking, more everything. She used Dan’s meetings as a way to get the weekend planned. But it didn’t seem as busy as normal. Her calendar was half empty. Again.

At Zandvoort she thought it was a mistake but it wasn’t. It didn’t feel right. Em put her worries aside, taking a deep breath as she looked. There had to be an explanation and she needed a moment.

“I’m getting a coffee, anyone want anything?” It was just her, Dan, and Blake upstairs. Michael was out doing some checks and making sure the kitchen was stocked and ready.

“Green tea please Emmy? You make it best.” She laughed at Dan’s puppy eyes, nodding as Blake gave her his order and she went down to the main hospitality area. It didn’t take long to have everything and she went to go back upstairs when a security guard stopped her.

“Sorry Miss, drivers and support only.” His arm blocked the narrow staircase and Em stared at him.

“I am support. I’m Daniel Ricciardo’s assistant, I need to get this up to him.”

“No entry.”

Em sat watching until the guard was called outside and ran upstairs, smiling and pretending it was fine. It had to be fine. There was no other option. The drinks got handed and she watched as they were getting ready until Blake’s phone chimed.

“Shit, Dan, you’ve got a sit down we’ve got to go. Did you not see it Ems?” Blake asked, Em checking.

She stared at her tablet, the realisation hitting her. She wasn’t on any of Dan’s meetings. She looked at Blake’s calendar and his filled up with meetings, things he was in. But hers had a couple of things - the press conference, the race, practices. One of the engineering meetings. A fanzone appearance. But that was it. It was empty and she hated it. Her usually perfectly colour coded calendar was mostly blank and worried her. She was getting blocked out.

“Sorry I must have missed it. My calendar hasn’t synced, I’ll sort it.” Dan and Blake left, Em sitting staring.

She didn’t know why, she didn’t know what had caused this to happen but it was. How? Dan had promised that it was in his contract that his team had full access to all of his information and everything they needed to do their jobs. But she’d missed a meeting and he was nearly late and that was supposed to be why she was there. She had to keep that going. If she didn’t then why was she there?

The evening was half a blur as the realisation she was being pushed out hit her. Security stopping her going up to Dan and Blake. The way McLaren acted in general. All of it. They were pushing her out and forcing her away and she couldn’t keep going like this. It wasn’t fair to her or to Dan if she couldn’t do her job.

“You ok?” Dan asked at dinner, watching her barely touched food.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just been a long, long day. I’m tired.”

“We can go back soon.”

When they got back to the hotel room Em curled up beside him, feeling the warmth of his body around her and the way he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before whispering goodnight. If this was her last race she was going to enjoy it.

**

Em was always the last one to get up in the morning. She was a night owl, getting up at seven because he had a race was the last thing she ever wanted to do. It was usually him waking her up with kisses and promises that he would bring her for food after that helped. Or early sleepy sex to wake her up. Both were fun for him.

But the bed was never empty at five in the morning. He could count on one hand how many times he’d woken up alone when they’d gone to bed together. The room was dark and silent, Em’s spot cold. She had to have been gone for more than a few minutes.

It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust to the quiet darkness and he slipped out of bed and searched for her. Her clothes were laid out where she’d left them the night before. Her shoes were there by the chair. She had to be either in the bathroom or the adjoining room that was hers in name only.

The worry in his gut turned to cold fear as he opened the bathroom door to discover her missing. His girl was gone and she had to be next door but why was she? What had she done to head to her room? It felt wrong. She should have been beside him. He eased open the adjoining door and spotted a ray of light spilling out from the bathroom. The fear eased. She was there, they could fix everything. It’d be fine. But her quiet sobs got louder as he padded across the carpeted floor to her. It was gut wrenching and painful and he pushed the door open to see his girl curled up on the floor beside the shower, her arms wrapped around her knees as she cried.

Em was in one of his oversized shirts - his in name only because he was pretty sure it was the shirt he’d given her over two years ago to help her sleep when he was travelling and she was still in London - hugging herself. Now that he was in the room her sobs were all encompassing and he had no idea how he didn’t hear her the second he woke up. She looked like a scared child, not the woman who shared his bed and his life and heart every day. This wasn’t the Em he knew.

She looked broken. He sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms, feeling how she tensed until she realised who he was. He wanted to hold her and fight against the world, but he needed to know which of her ghosts he was going to fight that night. But it felt like this time it was a whole haunted mansion. He pushed kisses against her forehead and rocked her gently, telling her how it was gonna be ok no matter what.

“I’m right here, Emmy, I promise. Whatever’s going on we can fix it. I promise. I’ll fix it for us.”

Her tears began to ease and he could look at her face. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks flushed but the rest of her face so pale. He’d never seen her this bad before. She was shaking and trying to pull herself together and he knew she wasn’t gonna have the words to discuss what caused this for a few minutes.

“When you’re ready talk to me, ok? Whatever you need. But tell me what’s wrong so we can fix this. I’m worried about you.” His thumb wiped the tears from her cheeks, but he wasn’t quick enough to get them before more came. Slowly they eased and she could take breaths without sobbing. He kept rocking her until she was ready to speak.

“You need to get ready, D.” She went to get out of his arms but he held on and waited till she looked at him with an angry pout on her lips.

“I’m not going anywhere until we talk. There is nothing more important than you, Emmy. Nothing. You’re crying in the bathroom at five in the morning and you came in here so I couldn’t hear you. What’s going on, Wrinkles? Talk to me.” He stood up still carrying her, bringing her into the main hotel room and sitting on the bed. She was playing with the hem of her shirt nervously but Dan gave her time until she was ready to speak.

“I… Dan they’re pushing me away and they’re stopping me from doing my job. And if I can’t do my job at the track then I shouldn’t be travelling so why am I even here? There’s nothing for me to be here for.” He kept his face calm as she spoke, anger filling his veins. What the fuck.

“What are you talking about, Baby?”

“They didn’t want to let me in your room today. I went down for your tea and when I went to go back upstairs they didn’t let me. I snuck past when he was distracted. It’s why it was cold.”

“Who did that?”

“Some random security guard? I’ve never seen him before, I don’t know his name. He said it was drivers and support only and I wasn’t support.”

“I’ll find out who.” Or at least Blake would. He wasn’t letting them get away with this. He couldn’t.

“Danny they’re not letting me do anything. The meeting you nearly missed wasn’t on my calendar. I’m blocked out from everything and I don’t know what to do anymore. There’s no reason for me to be here now, but I don’t want to be away from all of you. I can’t lose you, Danny. I don’t want to be stuck alone and I don’t want them to keep us apart.” He could see the worry hitting her, and he held on, kissing her forehead while rubbing her back.

“You’re not going anywhere, Emmy. You’re not gonna lose me. I’m not letting you go anywhere you don’t want to without me. You’re the one who keeps us all sane and you can’t do that if you’re at home. When did all this start, Baby?”

“Hungary? Slowly but surely. Spa it was worse and Zandvoort was bad. I didn’t know how to talk to you and Blake about it. I thought maybe I could fix it.” She looked even more nervous, jumping as his phone alarm went off in their room.

“Just my alarm, it’s alright. You did nothing wrong Baby, you hear me? Nothing at all. I’m gonna talk to Blake and we’ll fix it. I promise you, you are perfectly fine and didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Thank you.” She went to stand up but Dan squeezed her tighter before letting go, kissing her cheeks to remove the trace of tears.

“Don’t thank me. You know, right?” He squeezed her hand as she stood.

“I know.” A watery smile filled her face. “I need to get ready, I think I need a shower to fix my face before I’m in public.”

“Grab one. I’m gonna run into Blake for a couple of minutes. Are you ok if I do?”

“I’ll be in the shower, don’t worry.”

“I will anyway. I’m gonna take my phone, if you need me call me and I’ll be back in two.” He made sure she was ok before he shrugged into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. He picked up his phone and key before heading out, grabbing Em’s iPad as he did. Blake was a couple of rooms away and answered the door looking tired and annoyed, hair sticking up. When he saw Dan’s face he calmed.

“What happened?”

“Inside. Now.” Blake let him in and Dan handed Em’s iPad over, her calendar open to today. There was practice and qualifying in it and that was it. He saw how Blake raised an eyebrow.

“What the fuck?”

“I heard her crying through the wall. She’s getting left out of everything.”

“I know you share a room, I’m not a fucking idiot.”

“She went back into hers.” He laid out the little information that Em had given him, comparing her calendar to Blake’s. The missing meetings, how she was kept away. Zak asking when he wanted his new assistant to start. Dan had to stay calm but Blake could be angry then.

“I’m getting a meeting before practice. She’s gonna be fine, Dan. She’s not going anywhere. We know this. It’s Em, she keeps us alive half the time. Go back, have a shower, we’ve got breakfast downstairs for eight and then we’ll go from there.”

Too much time had passed since he got up to find her, but Dan pushed himself to get ready and get his head in the game. It was going to be a busy, chaotic morning but Em came first. The four of them ate breakfast together and he watched as she barely ate her yogurt. He stood and went over to the buffet, coming back with a Nutella croissant and a hot chocolate to put in front of her. She never really ate when she was anxious so hopefully something would be better than nothing.

On the drive to the circuit he held Em’s hand. Blake drove, Michael in the front seat beside him. Nerves thrummed through his body as he linked fingers but Em kissed his hand and he relaxed. She was there. She was right there and it was all ok.

When they finally made it into the circuit Michael went to do some checks while the other three went to his driver’s room. Em sat there staring into space while Dan stretched out. Finally it was time to go down to Zak, Blake tapping his shoulder.

“Emmy we’re heading, ok? I’ll be back in a few. If you need anything call me.”

“I will.” She still looked nervous so he leaned over to peck her lips, smiling as they separated.

“It’s gonna be fine. I promised you. Focus on holiday plans, which beach are we going to first?” She smiled at him and nodded, safe in his room. Nobody was going to remove her from it, nobody was going to kick her out. She belonged there.

He went down the stair with Blake, ignoring the look that his friend gave him.

“So you and Em?”

“Nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

“We’re nearly there.”

“Nearly?”

“I’m trying to make it work.”

“Mate, I’m saying this as someone who loves both of you. She loves you. Just tell her.”

“We’re nearly there.” By the time Dan spoke they were outside Zak’s office and he shook his head to end the conversation. A knock on the door and they were inside, Zak standing ready to end it.

“Guys can we talk later? I’m heading to a meeting, but after qualifying we can-“

“We’re talking now.” He sat down, watching how Zak sat too. Blake followed suit.

“What’s going on?”

“Why is Em being kept from my calendar and everything she’s supposed to be on? She’s been removed from everything. She’s not supposed to be removed. It’s in my contract. What’s going on?”

“I don’t-“

“Emma isn’t able to do her job. She’s missing things because you’ve been keeping her away from everything she needs. She needs access.” Blake took over and Dan was fine to let him, he ended it. He couldn’t keep himself calm for this. He let the words wash over him until Zak got his laptop up.

“We need to keep our information safe. Having someone not employed by McLaren affects this. It’s why we’ve been asking about getting you a new assistant.”

“And Blake has access to my calendar. He’s not employed by McLaren. I trust Em with everything, you need to trust her too.”

“Fine.”

It took another two minutes before Zak closed the laptop, looking at them. “She’s there. If we lose anything I will blame her for it.”

Dan stood and left, too angry to talk. He had to get into the car soon and he wasn’t going to let it affect him. He couldn’t. Em was most important.

Emmy was still sitting where he’d left her, staring into space. It was clear to him now how much this was affecting her, she hadn’t even opened her tablet and her makeup was heavier than he ever saw it. All he wanted to do was make it better for her and fix things. This he could fix. He could make this better for her. There wasn’t a whole lot he could always fix but this he could fix. She looked up at him when he arrived and Dan smiled.

“Check your calendar.”

It took all of ten seconds for her to see that everything was back in her calendar and he watched her relax into her seat. If Blake wasn’t there he’d have kissed her, but they both had jobs to do and practice was an hour away. It was squeezing her shoulder before he went downstairs to talk to Tom.

After practice it felt like things might go ok. He went over data and grabbed lunch before getting into a fresh race suit for qualifying. Like always Em was the last person he spoke to before he got into the car. She kissed the side of his helmet and smiled with a whispered “Go fast and be safe”.

For the first time in McLaren his qualifying felt like it went right. He got out of the car just six thousandths behind Lando. It was good. Em was grinning from the back of the garage with her headphones still on when he arrived in.

That evening as soon as he could get out he did, wanting nothing more than to get to bed. The early morning had done him in, and Em was dead on her feet. It was a quick dinner in hospitality and back to the hotel, Michael and Blake in the car with them again before going up to their rooms. He watched Emmy get changed and set out her clothes for the next day like she always did. Once they were curled up in bed he pulled her closer, desperate to hold onto her as tightly as he could.

“Apart from the obvious, how was today?” He couldn’t feel her tense up at least. That was a good sign.

“Weird. But ok. Blake was like my shadow today, I was beside him the whole day. There was a weird security guy who kept looking at us but other than that it was good.” Dan felt his stomach clench but he made himself stay calm. He’d noticed extra security but that couldn’t have been why. There was no way there was extra there for his Emmy. Not at all.

He watched her eyes close and her breathing even out, his thumb rubbing circles on her back. Three more nights after this. By this time Tuesday evening he’d have said everything, and Emmy would know all of it. The ring sitting in his bag would have a home on her finger. He had so many plans for them. He wanted to marry her over Christmas when they were in Perth, make it all official. She deserved every moment of happiness he could give her and this was the start of it.

Saturday arriving to the track was different. The security had definitely lessened, and coming in realising that it had was a kick in the teeth. But he had to concentrate and work, as much as he’d rather do anything else. Two days till they were on holiday. Two days. They could do it. He was gonna get a good result and decent points and then he and Emmy were going to Lake Como for a strictly clothing optional holiday and he couldn’t wait.

Practice was shit. There was no easy way around it, no way to make it sound better than it was. It fucking sucked and he hated that it did. He hated that every time he thought he was improving he wasn’t, that he was stuck in a tractor of a car that was worse than he was promised and maybe he’d made a mistake. Maybe he shouldn’t have left Renault, maybe he should have been in the blue and pink Alpine instead. Then the bullshit wouldn’t have happened.

The anger fuelled him as he made his way upstairs to his driver room. He was tired and pissed off and fed up. What he thought was a good decision for his career had fucked him and more importantly it had fucked Em over. He never wanted to see her like that again. Ever.

Emmy was sitting on the couch upstairs, her head jolting up as he arrived in wearing his race suit. Not even seeing her calmed him fully and he knew she could tell.

“What’s wrong?”

“Guess.” She stood up and he wrapped his arms around her, feeling himself ease up on everything. She was there and it was going to be ok.

“What do you need, Danny?”

“I don’t even know.”

“Ok, rephrase. What do you need from me? What do you need to get it out?” She leaned up and kissed him and Dan caught her lips, pushing her against the wall as they made out. She was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He could feel the way that she pushed against him, her hand gripping the back of his neck.

“I think I just need to fuck you against this wall, you know that? Make you scream and have the whole paddock know this is exactly where you belong. Right here with me. But I’ve to change and go to another fucking meeting. Much less fun than what I want.” He could see the way she shivered at his words and he completely knew if he moved his hands she’d be there with him. Instead he just watched her swallow and look up.

“I’m not saying no. I’m saying not here and now.”

“You deserve better than that.”

“Danny when we get back to the hotel I want you to push me against the wall and fuck me, understood?”

His brain short circuited. Emmy was asking him. Emmy. His Emmy who before was too afraid to tell him she hadn’t had an orgasm because when they started sleeping together she thought she’d be left high and dry without one. Asking him to fuck her exactly how she wanted with no thought for anything else? He was a lucky, lucky man.

“You are amazing.” He pecked her lips one last time before just holding her. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to say goodbye and go to engineering and stretch out and everything. He wanted to spend time with his girl away from the world. But he changed his clothes and went downstairs, kissing Em goodbye before he left.

The meeting was boring, getting told to protect Lando off the starting line, as if there was no chance he could make it off himself. He’d won seven races, he could beat Lando off the start line. Even with this car. He knew he could. Finally it was time to start stretching and getting ready, Michael holding out tennis balls and helping him prep.

“You need to concentrate, you’ve got a good chance this weekend.” His trainers words were quiet but Dan could hear the full force of what he meant in them.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you need to clear your head, mate. Worrying about Em isn’t gonna change anything.”

“Oh fuck you.” He stepped back, shaking his head while flapping his arms out to loosen them. “I’m focused on driving, that’s what matters. I have a life too.”

“I’m just saying.”

The pit lane was about to open and he stepped back, staying out of the camera view. Netflix were with them that weekend to make it worse and he had to keep a smile on his face when he didn’t want to. Em was at the stairs up to his driver room, smiling at him and quickly kissing his cheek.

“Drive fast, be safe, I’ll see you at the checkered flag. You’ve got this, Danny.” He squeezed her hand before letting go, desperate for the words to be right. It was going to happen. It had to.

Going back to the garage he zipped up his suit and ignored his name being called. Nobody spoke to him until he was in the car after Em did, it was his rule. As he stepped into the car the music changed to Stayin’ Alive, Dan looking around.

“This DJ should get fucking shot though!” He called out, staring at the team. Seriously? This bullshit again. But when he put his helmet on he forced it out of his head, determined not to hear it. He was gonna do this. He was gonna qualify well.

The start felt like a dream, and the fact that he kept going even with the touch with Pierre was important. Somehow he ended up behind Max and he wasn’t sure what had happened until Tom came over the radio.

“Good job Dan, P3. Lando’s just behind and will protect.”

Monza was fun to drive. Every moment of it was fun, the swooping curves and fast flowing corners leading to the straight where he let the throttle fly. He knew he wouldn’t beat Max, but that moment going around the parabolica knowing he was third was beautiful. The screaming of the fans, Tom congratulating him in his ear, he’d fucking done it. He’d come third in the sprint and yeah maybe it wasn’t an official podium but he’d done it and he could be proud of that. He had to be.

Seeing everyone cheering for him meant everything, Em standing with Blake’s arm around her grinning and he wanted to kiss her in front of the world. She was right there but he just grinned. It was everything.

After the interviews he was on his way back to the garage when Max stopped him with a wide smile. The paddock had cleared and it wasn’t unusual for them to walk together.

“I’m going to fight you, but if you get the start I’ll hold Lewis back.” Dan stopped and stared at the younger man, raising an eyebrow.

“Max, what?”

“If you beat me. Only if, and I’m going to fight for it. But if you do I’ll hold Lewis off for you to get the win. We both know you’re good enough for it.” Max smiled and Dan replied with one, looking at his former teammate. Sometimes he regretted leaving Red Bull more than he could ever admit. It was the right move to spread his wings, but he missed the support he used to have.

“Don’t tell Christian you said that.”

“Christian would be glad if you won and I came second. Better if I win and you come second, but he still likes you. Stop by some time, Daniel. You won’t be run away unless you try to look at our data.”

“Ah Maxy, you know me too well!” He grinned and turned into his garage, immediately welcomed by applause and cheering. It had really happened, and it was glorious.

After a stupid number of meetings and discussions they were finally ready to leave. Em was tired, her feet trudging alongside him until he bent down.

“C’mon, hop up.”

“What?” She asked, Dan indicating for her to get on his back.

“The paddock is empty, nobody’s around. Piggyback to the car, c’mon.” She held on and he walked down while talking to Michael and Blake, Em pushing a kiss to the back of his neck every few steps. He knew she knew what she was doing and he squeezed the back of her thighs, making his girl tense slightly as they walked. It wasn’t long back to the hotel and heading to bed to relax. Or in his case get all of the adrenaline out of his system.

They didn’t even do the mock of having Em go into the room that was supposed to be hers, instead he pulled her into their room, bags dropped just inside the door as it was kicked shut. Em was right there with him, her arm around him until he pinned her against the bathroom door. It was his hand in her hair to pull her head back as he trailed kisses along her jaw. It held her still as his knee split her legs and ran up to push the seam of her jeans against her. She gasped into their kiss as he held onto her.

“What did I promise you I was gonna do tonight?”

“F-fuck me against the wall.” Her words were gasps as his free hand was everywhere, teasing and pinching. It was easy to get her shirt off, exposing the pretty blue sheer lace bra. He couldn’t help himself, bending down to lick at her nipple through the barely there fabric.

“Danny…please…” she groaned and he loved every noise she made. Clothes went everywhere as he lifted her up, pulling the matching underwear down and settling her onto the barely used desk. Her legs were spread as he stood between them, sucking marks into her skin while he made his way to his ultimate destination.

Any man who wouldn’t eat his girl out was a coward as far as Dan was concerned. It was one of his favourite things to do. Em’s hair running through his curls and pulling on them, his fingers and lips and tongue working to bring her to the edge. If he was feeling particularly mean he’d leave her right there for a few moments and watch his girl beg him to move.

Tonight though he wanted to ruin her. He wanted to leave her boneless and well fucked and knowing that he was the one who did this with her. He’d leave it all behind if it meant that his Emmy was happy and he was going to slowly prove that to her.

It didn’t take long for him to feel her first orgasm come up, Em grabbing his hair and biting her lip as he took his mouth away to look up at her.

“I want to hear you. I’m the one who makes you feel like this, let me hear you. C’mon.” Her moans got louder as he dove back in, his fingers hitting the spot he knew was her everything. Once he was satisfied with the hickey he’d bitten into her inner thigh Dan moved back to her clit. He kept licking at her clit while she came, desperate to taste everything he could. It was just them in that hotel room and he was desperate for everything.

When Emmy finally stopped shaking he stood up, watching how she was flushed down her chest. She was absolutely fucking perfect.

“You ok, Baby?” He asked, leaning in to kiss her and hold onto her.

“I’m good. I promise. But you promised me a wall, Mr Ricciardo. Gonna make good on your promise?” She was grinning up at him and Dan stood, pulling her off the desk and her legs wrapping around his hips. His lips met with hers as he got them to the wall, pushing Em against it to give them more support. His fingers grabbed her hips as he finally slid into her, watching as Em looked up at him with wide eyes.

“All mine, Emmy. You’re all mine and I’m gonna make sure you know it.” His hips set a blistering pace against her and he watched as her fingers slid to where they were joined, feeling the way she tightened around him as between his pace and her fingers she came to another orgasm. She was harder to hold up after this one, tiredness taking over but he needed another.

“Third place today so I want to see three orgasms. Can you do it for me? Gonna give me that third so I can see my pretty girl? You can do it Baby, I’ve got you.”

Instead of keeping her there he took steps back towards the bed, still inside Em as he set them down carefully. His girl was right there in his lap riding him and she felt so perfect. He watched her move her hips carefully, suddenly realising how hard he’d been pushing her. There was the start of marks and bruises along her boobs and stomach and Dan moved his hand away, looking at her.

“I’m good. Danny, I’m good, I promise. If I wasn’t I’d have told you to stop. But you told me you were gonna fuck me hard against the wall and I wanted it. And right now I want you to tell me what you like.”

He looked into Em’s eyes and saw the absolute truth of what she was saying, even though part of his brain didn’t fully get it. They were rough, they’d go further kink wise than they intended sometimes, but not like this much. He knew Emmy could see the unsureness in his face and he watched as she picked up his hand and put it at her neck. It was their favourite thing in bed, and he used the feeling of comfort he knew it gave her to keep going. If she wasn’t sure she’d have called red and stopped him.

“Gonna be my good girl? Gonna let me watch you ride me and put on a show? Is that what my Emmy wants to do tonight?” He didn’t have to thrust, his hand keeping Em steady and feeling her move under him. She looked so perfect like that, chest bouncing as he watched her fuck herself on him. His perfect Emmy. He was so close to blurting everything out but not now, not till they were alone. He couldn’t do it during sex that was just cruel. He needed to do it when they had no distractions.

“Please Danny. Please. Make me feel good.”

“Such a greedy girl for me. Do you deserve another orgasm? Are you my good girl who gets another?” She nodded desperately as she bounced up and down, Dan pulling her lips closer to him.

“What are you, Emmy? Tell me and we’ll see.”

“I’m yours. All yours, Danny. You’re the only one who makes me feel this good. Please let me feel good.”

He could never deny her, pulling her in for a kiss as his fingers went straight to her clit. Between his thrusts, her bouncing, and his fingers she came in less than a minute, Dan following her straight over. He held her as aftershocks went through her body, Em’s head buried in his shoulder while he rubbed her back, unwilling to slip out of her. That meant the moment was gone and he wanted every second of it. He wanted Emmy in all the ways that he could have her. He was so fucking far gone it terrified him. But he was so blissfully happy.

Eventually they had to move, Dan pushing a soft kiss to her forehead as she lifted off him. He hurried to the bathroom to wet a cloth before coming back to clean Emmy up. She was pouting as he did and he couldn’t help but press a kiss to her to wipe it off her face before she went into the bathroom. While she was gone it was a quick call to room service for a strawberry pana cotta and a small cheesecake to be delivered. Dan slipped a robe on to answer the door, clearing their clothes away. He was delighted that he hadn’t actually ripped Em’s underwear getting them off her. One good thing.

When there was a knock on the door he answered with a smile and took the plates while giving a tip. Just as he had them settled on a table Em came out of the bathroom, showered with her hair tied up.

“You doing ok?” He asked, pulling her in for a kiss and running his hands over her.

“Yeah. I think I need some cuddles though.”

“And sugar. I got you dessert. Don’t tell anyone about my cheesecake.”

He shared his cheesecake with her and got bites in return before they curled up in bed together. He didn’t know how, but somehow she was fast asleep against him in about an hour. Emmy’s breathing evened out and he watched her sleep as the bruises he’d left on her chest were darkening. She always grinned every time she spotted a new mark he’d left on her and he hoped this time was the same. Whatever magic was there he didn’t want it to end. But sleep came calling and he had a race to drive the next day.

Em was the one who woke him up the next morning. Her kisses were nicer than his alarm clock, Dan’s hands immediately on her back and pulling her up. He heard her groan, opening his eyes to look at her.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, just sore. It’s good sore, Danny. I promise.” He raised an eyebrow and she laughed. “Honestly. I’m fine. You worked me good last night and every part of it was perfect.” She leaned down to kiss him and Dan smiled into the kiss, chasing Emmy’s lips as she got up.

“You need to shower and I need to get dressed. C’mon Mister Front Row, it’s going to be great. I have faith in you.”

That was all he needed to hear to get out of bed. It was one last kiss to Em before he went into the bathroom to shower. He nearly convinced her for five more minutes of cuddling before they had to get ready but he didn’t get away with it. Instead he showered while she got ready, putting on a McLaren shirt and jeans to be dressed. Once he was done he came out to find Emmy ready to go and he stopped in his tracks.

She was in skinny jeans and vans like usual, but every single part of her dripped his. Her three necklace hanging from her neck, the earrings with three stars he bought her. Her entire outfit was clothes he’d given her as presents and he was nearly sure if he checked her underwear was too. She was a dream and did he really have to leave for the track? It’d be fine to do the race without him. Who’d care?

Instead he pulled her in for a hug and a murmured “thank you” to Em, looking as she smiled up at him.

“For what?”

“For being you and amazing. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Walking into the circuit felt different that morning and he didn’t know why. Things were good and he was going to do his best. He was going to be on that podium no matter what. He could do it.

The time before getting in the car was a blur. He had no idea. He wanted to soak in the moments but he couldn’t, he was focusing on driving. He could drive this place blindfolded. He could do it.

Putting on his suit and boots he took a deep breath before heading downstairs. Em caught him just before he went into the garage. It was another kiss on the cheek and telling him to be fast and safe, but Dan kissed her properly for the briefest of seconds.

“You’ve got this. I’m gonna see you at that barrier.”

He walked in and picked up his balaclava to put it on before getting in the car. But before he could step in Zak caught him, an arm around his shoulder. Nobody ever did that. Emmy was the last person he talked to before he got in the car, always. She was his good luck charm. Even Michael knew not to talk to him when Em had talked to him. He’d get in and connect his earbuds for the radio and then he’d talk to Tom.

“Good luck. It’d be good to have a trophy to show around the MTC on Tuesday along with that medal, wouldn’t it?”

“Tuesday?” His blood ran cold.

“Yeah, we need to celebrate your sprint medal. Did Nicole from PR not tell you yet? Full day in the MTC then. Your calendar was empty so it looked good.”

His calendar was empty because they’d removed Em from access. Without his girl there to block the days out then its looked free. Which meant that their vacation was gone because he had to be in fucking Woking instead.

“See you at the flag!” He wanted to punch Zak’s fucking face. He was so angry he wanted to scream. But instead he got into the car, settling down and putting his helmet on and connecting it to his HANS. The radio connected in while the guys strapped him into place and he had the go ahead to bring the car to the grid. Bring it in, get out, let everything happen.

He had to blank his mind out. It’s was the visualisation crap that Michael beat into his head that he kept going with.

Finally it was the anthems and he bopped along to the Italian one, the texts of good luck from his parents floating in the back of his head.

Waiting for the lights to go out was terrifying. Seeing the five red lights made him nearly forget everything that he’d known for so long, but as soon as they blinked off he was gone. Never ask him how he made it around those first corners but pretty soon he was leading the fucking race.

It was the fastest race of his life. The only time he worried was when the safety car backed everyone up after Max and Lewis crashed, the realisation that he didn’t have Max backing things up worrying him. But he forced himself to stay calm and pushed through, Tom giving him advice on the radio. It was obvious Lando had been ordered not to attack but Dan didn’t care, too focused on making it to the flag.

“YEAH P1! You bloody did it!” Tom was celebrating over the radio, Dan screaming his lungs out. He did it. He fucking did it. Fastest lap and first place and fuck it he did it.

“Deep down I knew this was gonna come, so…thanks. Thanks for having my back. And for anyone who thought I left, I never left. Just moved aside for a while.”

Pulling into that beautiful number one podium spot felt so sweet. He won. He actually won. It took a moment to realise what was happening as he shut the car off, pulling the steering wheel out and standing atop the halo. He fucking did it.Em was there at the barrier, sandwiched between Blake and Michael and he could see tears streaming down his girl’s face in pride and he grinned behind the helmet before tapping his chest three times, watching as she realised.

The jog to the team was sweet, jumping into them in celebration. He hugged Michael and Blake before Em wrapped her arms around him. All he wanted to do was pull his helmet off and kiss her in front of everyone but that wasn’t fair. He couldn’t. So instead he let go and realised she’d been FaceTiming his parents for the race. He took off his helmet and grinned at the camera, a murmured “I love you” escaping before he got pulled back to be weighed and interviewed by DC, a grin on the Scot’s face and the promise of a drink at some point once the cameras were switched off.

He was on the podium. On the top step in Monza. He’d done that and it was a heady feeling to be back up there, the Tifosi cheering because while he might not be a Ferrari driver he was half Australian and for them that was a big moment.

The chaos of interviews and discussions and debriefs and eating were constant, he didn’t have a second to himself for hours. It wasn’t until nearly nine that they were finally done, Zak sending him away to get changed before the party that had been hastily organised for the team in celebration. He bounded up the stairs two at a time, spotting Em in the room before she’d even realised he was there. She stood, grinning and pulling him in for a kiss.

“I am so proud of you. So fucking proud of you. You did that and you proved it to everyone and you are amazing. Well done, Danny.” He pulled her for a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he got the courage to say that they had to cancel everything.

“I need to get in touch with the villa to-“

“I called them earlier to cancel. Turns out the owner is a F1 fan and had put two and two together for when you rented it and your surname. He said congratulations and to call back whenever to rent it out again, there’s no problem. And I cancelled the flight back from Milan to London on Friday. Anything else you need?”

To tell her that he’s completely in love with her. But Emmy deserved better than that. She deserved better than when he was still sweaty after a race because he’d only had a rinse off shower to get the champagne off. She deserved a big gesture, but one somewhere private because if he did it in public she’d be too embarrassed. Just because this plan was ruined didn’t mean it was all bad.

Maybe Austin, the two of them in a city they loved. They were staying back an extra night or two to enjoy it. Or at the farm over Christmas when they got to go home together. After a day of seeing their family. That would be the right way to tell Emmy everything. He’d get down on one knee in their living room with her ring and she’d say yes, he knew her.

“You know, right?” His voice was thick. The tears he wanted to let out were close but he couldn’t start crying or he wouldn’t stop.

“I know. You know too?”

“I really know. C’mon. There’s a party in a couple of hours, let’s go change and shower and maybe nap for an hour.”

He pulled a clean shirt on before picking up his bag, holding his hand out for Emmy to take. At that time of night the paddock was deserted and he didn’t care who saw. If he didn’t get to tell his girl everything this week then he definitely got to hold her fucking hand leaving. He didn't care about the McLaren cameras in his face. He'd already had to give up enough with her this weekend, they didn't get this too.

-

Taglist.

@dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiphobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @elizanav @neiich @luckyladycreator2 @scotlynaurora @belledawnidk

#call it what you want fic #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one fanfic #daniel ricciardo oneshot #f1 oneshot #formula 1 oneshot #ciwyw writing #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula one oneshot #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic

[canmom]

reading Brainwyrms by Alison Rumfitt. it's interesting. clearly part of the post-Topside wave of trans lit, with the same 'plugged in to twitter' energy, but way more British about it. which means most of the allusions are very transparent to me. it's a combo of... hardcore kink driven romance as the main arc, in a near-future setting in which TERFism goes further to the point of outright bombings, and a scifi element with alien brain parasites that it's gradually building towards.

compellingly written, I'll give it that for sure - I lay down to read for a bit and before I knew it I'd read like a third of the book. the main character's disaffected, traumatised air is well observed, and the kink doesn't hold back.

I think my reservation with it so far is that it feels a little too much like a polemic blog post about the way things are going. the MC Frankie is a trans woman with a pregnancy kink who survived a bombing at a GIC and now works in social media moderation - it's all stuff that is blatantly Relevant To The Argument, as it were. it's tricky to criticise it for that because it's like, what you're saying is that it's tightly constructed and thematically consistent and that's bad somehow? but I think I've come to feel that I like fiction to bring me something a little new and unfamiliar.

the chapter I most enjoyed so far was actually a more metaphorical, abstract interlude, in which resistance to fascism is cast as becoming 'one mass of queer flesh, which now grabbed and clawed...'; 'faces locked in kisses until they became one face. the cops would try to pull at this mass, but to no avail'. very 'faggots and their friends between revolutions' stuff.

the chapters which are presented directly as social media posts and articles are also sharply observed. i think a lot of fiction in which the internet features heavily suffers from not understanding the internet very well (Hosoda's Belle for example), but for example the chapter 'Curious Cat' where an anonymous person (blatantly Vanya) is sending messages asking for help with a parasite, and getting rebuffed or misunderstood, and the chapter where Frankie relates a murder of an instagram model by a stalker who posts about it to a reddit community devoted to her, read as very real.

a lot of the story is about responding to a terrifying political situation in sexual terms - a flashback chapter depicting Frankie having sex with some terf's pretentious brother ("with each thrust from him, she thought to herself, I am a traitor, I am a traitor to the cause"), or the preface which jokes about how in another world the author would be writing 'cool horror stories about vampires raping werewolves, ones with no subtext at all'. I prevaricate a little on whether this is a compelling examination of a theme that I do find interesting (the mysterious origins of sexual desire) or just edgy for its own sake.

this is an odd novel for me in some ways because while on one level, this is about people who I could very easily be a single degree of separation from were they real, it's also about a facet of life that is still quite alien to me and in many ways I only know about second hand. I've never been to a kink club (that wasn't in an MMO anyway lol), I'm way too much of a nerdy autist shut-in to know what it's like to be someone who would feel put out if she hadn't had sex in a week. so even before the parasite stuff, it's hard to know how much of Frankie and Vanya's stuff is real, and how much is fantasy. is this really how things go between people? it sounds kinda fun, but unlocking the door this far has already taken years.

when I've read books about the crazy lives that American trans girls supposedly live and interesting sex they're apparently having, they've been at a certain remove, the other side of the Atlantic. and this book feels sort of similar, even though I know it's set right on my doorstep. idk, I've never been good at this.

anyway I don't think I want to write fantasy novels so directly about The Discourse of the day, but it's probably good that someone is. that said, it's hard to parse like... ok, it's titled brainwyrms, and 'brain worms' is a common way of describing an obsessive, cultish idea you receive from the internet.

and like if you look at the newspapers, or twitter trans discourse, you certainly could believe that this country is on a rapid slide to putting us in camps. however, my day to day life has been... it's not without hostility, but the average street harasser isn't doing it because of a Guardian or even Mail article. this country has a subculture of deranged weirdos who hate our guts, and a political class who will happily stoke culture war shit to score points, but most normies I've met don't care one way or another that I'm trans - they might mention a family member or friend they know who's also trans. the day to day conflicts are over way more prosaic shit, the landlord vs tenant forever war, or how the kitchen should be cleaned. which of these windows is more informative of the 'overall' state of affairs? not that a more violent terf cult is a bad premise to write a novel around, but a sense of impending doom is a pretty powerful mechanism to keep you scrolling, right?

like in 20, 40 years - will the terfs really be bombing the Tavistock and banning transness, as Rumfitt imagines in her near-future setting preface? or will they go the way of those newspapers in Thatcher's time who smeared the gay movement, just as they smear us today? of passing political obsessions like 'new atheism'? I don't know the half-life of cult shit.

anyway, time to read the rest of the novel, and see how it handles this brew that it's concocted.

#fiction #sff #novels

[elliesflower]

i saw you in a dream [7]

summary; it's winter break and that guitar has got to go.

chapter; 7/10 2.3k words

cw (per chapter); language, angst, TW: CAT >:(

an; hellaaaaurrrrrr i don't have much to say except ur all amazing and wonderful and thank u so much for loving this story so hard. i love u all more than words. (also sorry not much ellie in this chapter, next chap will be longer and most likely have smut teehee) ((also this isn't proof read so sorry if there's weird mistakes i'll go back nd fix later ok love u bye!!))

Your last interaction with Ellie had you feeling pretty defeated. You had thought that maybe you were getting somewhere—but now, with Cat in the picture, you were ready to give up.

“I’ll fucking kill her,” Dina threatened when you explained the whole story. You shook your head, laughing. “Seriously, she has no right to fuck with your emotions like that.”

“Dee, it’s fine. I wouldn’t call it ‘fucking with me,’ either. Relationships can be messy and break ups are even messier. You of all people should know that.”

“Don’t you fucking dare even mention that disgusting, vile creature,” she pretended to gag at the thought of her ex. All the verbal abuse she had to endure, you’re amazed she lasted so long with them in the first place. “But seriously. You guys had a vibe. That was fucked up of her to not even mention it. It obviously seemed like she was intentionally keeping it from you.”

You pursed your lips, looking down at your hands as you picked at your cuticles. 

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, shrugging your shoulders. You wanted to believe that Ellie wouldn’t do that to you. Realistically, you understood you barely knew her—the two of you had spent less than a full day together. Maybe it was silly to think she was letting you see her heart.

“No, no, don’t do that,” Dina pointed a finger at you accusingly. “Don’t do that hopeless romantic shit you always do. I’m telling you how it is.” 

“Okay, and maybe it is,” you agreed. “But—”

“Hello?! No ‘but’s!’ You need to forget about her. You don’t want to get tangled up in that mess, trust me,” she was speaking from experience, and you knew this. You wanted to believe Dina was right. Who would want to be caught up in lesbian ex-girlfriend drama? And yes, the lesbian part makes a difference. Perhaps it was just the adrenaline of a new crush—the yearning to be in a relationship, so strong you feel like you’d do anything, anything to be with that person, no matter what they’ve done, no matter what they say. Lust can be dangerous.

“Okay, okay,” you gave in. “I’ll leave it alone.”

Dina squinted at you curiously. She probably didn’t believe you, but it didn’t matter. You knew she had your back, always. She’d never do something you weren’t okay with, and she’d forgive you if you did go crawling back to Ellie. Which was still very much…up in the air. 

“That’s what I thought,” she said with a smirk, but it wasn’t very definitive.  

The next few days were…weird, to say the least. With Christmas quickly approaching, the amount of people on campus slowly thinned out—Dina included. She was heading east to be with her family for the holidays, which left you alone in your dorm for a few days. You spent most of the time aimlessly scrolling on your phone, confirming next term’s classes, and making last-minute holiday plans with your own family. It was all very…mundane. 

Which is a weird feeling; your outside life being so normal, while your brain was scrambling trying to make sense of your feelings about the whole Ellie situation. It had been over a week, and she hadn’t texted. Neither had you, but you weren’t sure what was left to say. You wanted to side with Dina, leave Ellie in the past and let Cat have her. 

But the other part of you—the hopeless, yearning sapphic—wanted to reach out. Every time you saw a short-haired redhead from the back, your heart rate increased. It was a little pathetic, if you were being honest, the way your heart fell when they’d turn around and it was not in fact Ellie coming to reconcile. It made you want to call her; want to see her; want to see if the two of you could really become something, after all; want to know what else spilled from her lips when she was high, and anything else she’d give you. 

It sure didn’t help that everytime you walked into your dorm you were stared down by the guitar you were really regretting buying instead of renting. Now that you didn’t have a….teacher, anymore, you were sure it’d just start collecting dust over there in the corner. 

“Fuck it,” you mumbled to yourself one day after you’d been staring at the case for far too long, deciding you were going to take it down to the student store and see what they’d offer you for it. 

The weather was bitterly cold, but it surprisingly wasn’t raining. You zipped your coat up all the way to your chin, readjusting the guitar strap over your shoulder as you walked across campus to the store. Today was the last day it’d be open before they closed for the holidays, so naturally the store was eerily empty, aside from the two students working behind the counter. 

You let your fingers trail across a few cute embroidered journals on your way up to the counter, where a very unenthusiastic student turned to greet you. 

“What can I help you with?” They asked flatly, resting their elbows on the wooden counter that separated the two of you. 

“Uh, I was hoping to see how much y’all would give me for this guitar,” you explained, hoisting the case up to the counter and unlocking it. Upon flipping the top, the worker gave out a low whistle of appreciation. 

“Has it ever even been used? It’s in perfect condition,” they said, grabbing the neck to pull it out and examine it. 

“Uh, just a handful of times…I took the class for one semester,” you explained, one hand subconsciously rising to rub the back of your neck sheepishly. 

“And you didn’t just rent one?” 

Okay, well damn. 

“Wasn’t thinking, I guess…” There’s nothing like a stranger confirming what you already knew to make you feel even worse about your initial purchase. They gave you an amused smile before leaning the guitar against the back of the counter.

“Give me a minute to run some numbers,” and luckily, they didn’t mention your stupid purchase again, and retreated to a computer. You leaned over the counter as well, pulling out your phone to mindlessly scroll. The electronic door chime sounded from behind you and the other employee shouted a greeting across the store. You didn’t pay it any attention until you heard a very distinct voice respond.

“Oh my gosh, it is freezing out there!” 

Your whole body tensed, your grip on your phone becoming tighter as she started to chatter away—of course her striking presence had the other employee out of their seat, smile plastered across their face as they made their way over to continue chatting with…her. 

Of fucking course. 

The whole point of coming here was to get this little part of Ellie out of your room—and now, an arguably bigger part of Ellie just came waltzing through the doors. You made it a point to keep looking at your phone, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of your attention. Even though she definitely had it, how could she not? Her voice was sickeningly sweet, even though it somehow made you feel sour, resonating over the quiet music playing in the store.  

“Elliott, you are such a riot!” She laughed from behind you. Her vernacular was straight out of a sixties romance movie, and you wondered briefly if that just added to her charm. You’d known girls like her—you know the ones who have to swear up and down that they’re not like other girls, when in reality, they are like clones roaming the earth. They all have the same cadence, the same attitude, the same god complex. Sometimes you wonder what it would be like to be so blissfully ignorant. 

“Alright,” the clerk said after another grating minute of you trying to remain undetected. “This is the best I can do for you.” They at least had the decency to look apologetic as they slid you a scribbled note. You blinked down at the number. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled. The offer was less than half of what you originally paid for it. Not that you were expecting a miracle, but this was a little insulting. “You said it was in perfect condition…”

“I know,” they agreed, putting up their hands defensively. “There’s only so much I can do. I have to go by the school’s policies.” 

You frowned at the note for a moment, wishing nothing more than to go back in time and never sign up for that stupid guitar class. Or even if you did, you wished you’d never seen that stupid flier on that stupid tree on this stupid campus—maybe then you wouldn’t be stuck with your heart in your throat, choked up listening to Ellie’s ex-girlfriend slash roommate filling up the room with her stupidly charming personality. 

Wait a second, did she leave? Her voice disappeared, and the second clerk was returning back behind the desk. Maybe you should—

“Oh, c’mon,” she was peering over your shoulder in an instant, invading your space and making you flinch. Her floral perfume overwhelmed your nose, her black and silver bracelets tinkling as she examined the note on the counter. “We can do better than that, no?” Her arm was pressing your bicep, she was so close to you, you could hear her breathing and see her perfectly styled hair framing her sharp cheekbones. You were so taken aback by her boldness, by her invasiveness, you found yourself nodding.

She looked over at you, and her teeth were like pearls, shiny and probably not real. You just blinked at her, acutely aware that your expression was most likely not very kind. 

“Look, Cat,” the clerk started, and of course they knew her name. “You know I have to follow university protocols for these kinds of things.”

“C’mon, Dakota,” and yeah, of course she knew their name too. “There’s nothing you can do? For old times sake?” She leaned onto her elbows, resting her chin in her hands with a dopey look on her face. Good god, is this a joke? If so, it wasn’t very funny, because Dakota was now suppressing a grin, grabbing the paper off the counter before glancing at you briefly. 

“Let me see what I can do,” they smiled, returning to the computer. You wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. Not that it would make much of a difference, anyways. You were pretty much invisible until Cat showed up anyways. 

“Well, that’s more like it!” Cat grinned, crossing her arms and leaning a hip against the counter, facing you. “Nice to see you again, by the way.” An afterthought. 

You forced a smile back, your deeply embedded people-pleasing outweighing your disdain. 

“Cat,” you went straight for the formalities. You wanted to get out of here as quickly as humanly possible. “Likewise.”

“You left so quickly last week I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye!” She exclaimed, reaching out to grab your shoulder. It was like she was from another planet. “Ellie’s been talking about you.” You really hoped her otherworldliness didn’t give her the power of supersonic hearing, because she may have heard your heart fall into your stomach at the mention of Ellie’s name. But perhaps, she still did anyway, because she was cocking her head ever so slightly, crossing her arms over her chest again. 

“Oh, yeah I wasn’t…feeling great,” and it wasn’t a complete lie. You’re amazed you didn’t throw up all over the both of them the minute Cat got all handsy with Ellie. Cat still looked at you sideways, like she was waiting for you to respond to her comment about Ellie. No way she was talking about you with Cat. It had to be a ruse. You chewed at your bottom lip nervously, averting your gaze to fidget with your hands rather than be trapped. But she wasn’t giving up.

“Well, she’s been going on and on about how she was so happy she could help you pass your final,” she said, and half of her words were punctuated with a hand gesture. Your heart wa thrumming in your ears.  “She said you were a quick learner and so eager to play guitar. I just didn’t take you for a quitter, the way she talks about you!” 

Talks. Present tense. Fuck, she was good at this. 

“A quitter?” 

“Well, you’re pawning off your guitar,” she said matter-of-factly. You furrowed your brow, but quickly let it smooth out. 

“I never planned to play guitar long-term. Ellie knew that.” Or at least you thought she did. Cat was making it really fucking hard to tell what was real or not. Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second, before she was standing up straighter and shaking a few jet-black tendrils of hair from her face. 

“Well, then,” and she was no longer holding back. Her eyes very blatantly scanned you, up and down before she continued. “Let’s see what we can get you for this guitar then, yeah?” 

And as if on cue, Dakota returned to the counter. They walked straight to Cat as if you had never existed in the first place. 

“Alright, how’s this?” He slid the note over, and the number was significantly higher. You felt like a second class citizen. You were fuming—not that they would notice as they looked into each other’s eyes like they were Romeo and Juliet or something. How is it that Cat can weasel her way into everything that’s yours? 

Hah. As if Ellie was ever yours.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #ellie tlou #ellie tlou pt 2 #the last of us #the last of us pt 2

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 17, Unanswered - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Pocket embraces her inner Karen (just a little bit)

Word Count: 1.1k

Previously On...: Word on the street is that you and Steve are a Thing. You try to give Bucky a head's up that it's all bullshit, but he's not answering his phone. That can't be bad, right?! RIGHT??? 😬

A/N: Time for Pocket to set the record straight! (ALSO! Surprise, besties: Three updates tonight! - 445, 5, 515 EST)

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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You’d never had an opportunity to meet Lisa Galvin, head of the PR firm that exclusively represented Stark Industries, but you figured that, if she could handle the public relations nightmare that was Tony Stark, you were obviously in good hands.

“Ms. (Y/L/N),” Lisa said, rising to shake your hand as you were shown into her office, “it’s so lovely to finally meet you. I’ve heard such good things.” Her firm’s suite was on one of the Tower’s mid floors, and was bright and spacious, but lacked any real sense of character or personal warmth. Given that Galvin & Associates represented all of Stark Industries, plus every Avenger, you kind of expected the space to be a bit more… colorful.

“‘Pocket’s fine,” you said, sitting down in the chair she offered you. “Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.”

Lisa smiled. “My pleasure. Though, we wish you’d come to see us much sooner. In terms of a PR footprint, you’re practically a ghost! We could do so much for your public image, if you’d only let us, dear.”

You looked around, wondering who the ‘we’ was that she was referring to, as it was only the two of you in the room. “I actually prefer it that way,” you told her. “I highly value my privacy, and I took my job to create and innovate, not to become public property.”

Lisa pursed her lips, as though she could think of nothing more disdainful than wanting to remain out of the public eye. “Well, to each their own, I suppose,” she said, her voice betraying that she very much did not agree with you. “Now, what is it you wanted to meet about?”

“I’m sure that you’ve seen the articles by now,” you told her, something about her beginning to rub you the wrong way. “You wouldn’t be very good at your job if you hadn’t.”

“Ah, yes,” she replied, and if she heard the edge in your voice, she didn’t acknowledge it. “The ones about you and our very own Captain Rogers! Congratulations, I might add! Just delightful! What about them?”

“I want to issue a statement refuting them,” you said. 

Lisa looked at you as if you asked her if she wanted to go out and kill any and every puppy you could find. “But Pocket, my dear, why? You must understand that being romantically linked to one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire world– nay; throughout all of history can only increase your public approval ratings. Do you know how many of my clients would literally kill to have exposure like that?”

You widened your eyes. She was slightly scary, like a deranged Effie Trinket. “Well,” you began slowly, “first, there’s the fact that it’s not the truth. I am not now, nor have I ever been, romantically linked with Steve Rogers. And second, and most importantly, I’m deeply committed to someone else, and I don’t want him getting hurt by these lies.”

Lisa rolled her eyes at you. “My dear, in the court of public opinion, no one gives a damn about the truth. It’s all about optics. And given the public’s engagement with the articles that have been posted since the gala, the optics you and the Captain present together are divine.”

“Yeeeeaaaah,” you drew out, “I really don’t give a shit about optics. I’d just like the record to reflect the facts.” You leaned forward, putting your elbows on Lisa’s desk as you looked her in the eye. “And if you’re not going to do that for me, I’ll speak to Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark about finding a new firm for the company that can.”

You smiled your “did you forget exactly what my position was in this company?” smile; not one that you used very often, as it tended to give you the ick, but you felt it was more than appropriate, given the circumstances. It wasn’t uncommon for people to underestimate or dismiss you, or think they could intimidate you or bend you to their will due to your small stature or your relatively young age, or just because you were a woman. It didn’t hurt to give them an occasional reminder.

Lisa looked properly concerned. “Well, I – there’s no need for that!” she spluttered. “I see no reason Mr. Stark needs to be involved. It’s a simple matter of having you write out a statement, after all. From there, my associates will send it along the AP wire, and to the outlets that wrote the articles, asking for a retraction, or at the very least, that they publish your response.” She opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a legal pad. Handing it to you, along with a pen, she said “Just write the basic sentiment you wish to get across, and my team will tweak it into something befitting a proper press release.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’d prefer to have my statement in my own words, thanks,” you said, before bowing your head and beginning to write:

While Ms. (Y/L/N) greatly values her friendship with Captain Rogers and admires all he has done for his country, she would like to clarify that they are not now, nor have they ever been, involved in a romantic relationship of any kind. Ms. (Y/L/N) is involved in a committed, long-term relationship with another party and kindly requests that her privacy in this arena be respected, and she be left to continue living her life as a private citizen.

“There,” you said, handing her the sheet of paper. “That should do it.”

Lisa looked it over and nodded her approval. “It will do,” she said. “It’ll go out straight away; I’ll do it myself.” You nodded and, thanking her for her time, stood and turned to leave. “Oh, Pocket, dear,” she called to you. You turned, wondering what more she needed from you. “Just for the sake of curiosity, when you wrote you were already in a long-term relationship, who were you referring to? Is it someone in the Tower? I only ask because it may become a relevant issue at some point in the future.” “James Barnes,” you told her proudly. You loved him, and you honestly didn’t care who knew it.

Lisa clutched her chest as if you were attempting to steal her pearls. “The Winter Soldier?! Oh, my dear– you better pray that little nugget never gets out, because if it does, you’ll be running back here in tears, begging me to fix your ruined public image.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[heraxic]

re8 as classical music

badly explained cause its 2am and i dont know musical terms.

Btw if anyone has any notes or other songs that would fit them id love to see it-

Ethan: Tchaikovsky - Marche Slave

Slow start, Ethan is unknowingly ensnared in a trap. As he realizes the danger Rose (and himself) are in the song becomes tragic and determined. Fastpaced strings, frantic beats —like prey escaping from predator— keeps escalating into something more and more insurmountable. A hopeful jingle is heard as Ethan finds out he can still save his daughter. A heroic theme plays as he overcomes the horrors despite it all (a sense of control over the situation is marked by highpitched anxious flutes superimposed by a deep stable horn). Then comes the first faceoff with Miranda who taunts him and Ethan’s tragic hero theme comes to a grinding halt as his heart gets pulled out of his chest. The drums pick up again and the little soldier is off to his final battle.

Mia: Claude Debussy - Clair De Lune

Sadly the real Mia doesn’t appear much. In the Winters home, Ethan writes that Mia doesn’t want to talk about what they went through in Louisiana, which leaves him with a lot of questions unanswered. In the flashback where she desperately tries reaching out saying ‘𝘺𝘰𝘶 matter’, she still can’t help keeping secrets- maybe out of fear that Ethan wouldn’t let it go (being extremely persistent) and they’d never return to normal. The song is heartbreaking and sad as she struggles coming to terms with the guilt and grief over what she’s done and what the one she loves went through because of it. On a last somber note, her child, who takes after her father both in looks and unresolved powers, is all she has left.

Rose: Saint-Saëns - Le Cygne

A little girl whos only ever known unconditional, all encompassing love. Even before her birth, it was known that her life would be full of uncertainty. Though stolen away for possessing powers she’s not even aware of yet, she continues to live and provide a beacon of hope for her family.

Chris: Richard Wagner - Ride of the Valkyries

Comes in the dead of night and rains hell on the Winters home. In his eyes, he’s doing the right thing, but has made himself the villain to the one he was trying to protect (victorious trumpets superimposed by high fearful strings). The transport gets intercepted by Miranda and the music falls. Once Chris finally explains himself to Ethan they’re allowed a brief bit of victory (steadier horn) as their combined efforts take down Miranda’s last line of defense (Heisenberg). In the end, Chris has to live with the victory of taking down the megamycete, the guilt and grief over Ethan’s death/sacrifice, and the troubling news from BSAA. A tainted victory.

Alcina: Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake

Appears first as a noble elegant socialite. She’s at the height of her power, owns a castle and three daughters and believes herself to be Miranda’s favorite. It’s business as usual, calm serene music. Suddenly an outsider has made his way into her home, killing her daughters one by one. She reaches out to Miranda, who only cares about the stupid ceremony, and realizes everything she knew was a lie. Anger and frustration builds. The music deepens, falls and rises again as she transforms, tries taking revenge on Ethan and fails, having lost everything in one evening.

Bela, Cassandra, Daniela: Rimsky Korsakov - Flight of the Bumblebee

Self explanatory. Hurried, manic and playful.

Donna: Tchaikovsky - Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy

Entrancing but with eerie insidious undertones. Fitting for the childlike dollmaker and her little porcelain friends. Ends with a fast and chilling theme for the twisted game of hide and seek

Moreau: Edvard Grieg - Hall of the Mountain King

Quiet, lumbering and slow. Ethan takes the Rose flask back easily; threatened with losing Mother Miranda it very quickly escalates as panic sets in and Moreau throws everything he has at him. The music swells and ends with a bang.

Karl: Aram Khachaturian - Masquerade Suite

A bold start. Right from the beginning he exudes arrogance, charisma and danger. He plays nice in front of Miranda with a waltz that picks up in intensity when putting Ethan through his first gauntlet. Then the tone gets deeper and quieter for a moment, as he plots in secret; it’s finally time to set his plan in action. It’s a race to the finish line as Ethan tears through the other lords, unknowingly playing right into Miranda’s plan. Realizing he could be a particularly useful asset/ally, Heisenberg puts him through the second gauntlet. The music is sadistically playful as he tests his will and endurance. Upon failing to recruit Ethan, the music picks up for the third gauntlet and ends with a bang, as Karl dies at the hands of Miranda.

Duke: Georges Bizet - Votre Toast

A friendly face unfitting in a place such as this. The upbeat and energetic theme sticks out like a sore thumb among the others. Whimsy and grandiosity acts as a brilliant facade for his enigmatic true nature. Though the jolly merchant schtick may be a lie, he always delivers on service.

Miranda: Sergei Prokofiev - Dance of the Knights

https://youtu.be/bBsKplb2E6Q?si=jnSpMO-bIhEcjJzb

Immediately imposes a sense of authority and dread. The dark theme plays over and over as she performs the same cruel experiments expecting different results, though it only succeeds in remowing her further from humanity. She imagines a world of pure bliss in acquiring her child, which at this point is as illusory as chasing the holy grail since she’s never satisfied. When she hears of Rose she schemes her way into the Winters home, elated to find the perfect vessel after a century of searching. She steals the child away, leaving behind a trail of destruction that finally catches up to her.

#re8 #re8 ethan winters #ethan winters #re8 mia #re8 rose #re8 chris redfield #re8 alcina #lady dimitrescu #re8 donna #re8 moreau #re8 karl heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #re8 duke #re8 mother miranda #classical music

[antvmnos]

karasu

bi-han x female character x kuai liang 

summary: In another era, a powerful elder god with bravery to command and win battles, but  devised a cruel plan by Shinnok motivated by his cruel intentions, she was betrayed and killed for not accepting his deal. Now, returned by the dead and with a new perspective to start following Lord Liu Kang, she was trying to begin again and forget the painful past but her heart had other plans. 

1K WORDS. elder goddess, female gender, afab — mild language, violence, slow burn, mentions of death/blood, injuries. 

You are surrounded by this decrepit place. Limbo seemed less worse in the legends you used to hear, until the day you were confined to remain there and could see it with your own eyes. Time does not seem to pass as it should, always returning to a repetitive starting point from his ancestry to his cruel death. You are forced to watch these events beyond your control over and over again, until you remember every detail, every line, every action, finally coming to terms, long ago, that it's not Raiden's fault — he was protecting the plans, just like You would do it too, you would give up your own life if it meant peace on the earthrealm.

Just as he also abdicated yours… right?

He wouldn't make it in time.

If he had been there, could things have been different?

He couldn't. Cause you deserve to die.

It is these questions that force her to resent her unfair punishment, fueled by this feeling of hatred. Indeed, there are fates worse than death. And you are aware of this by being here.

"I can help you free yourself from this place." A distant voice speaks to you. You are scared at first, but somehow it brings you comfort.

"I know what I did."

"It was never your fault. Shinnok's vile intentions doomed you, I saw."

"Yes it was. If I had fought him, I could have avoided all of this, I was foolish and ignorant to believe that Shinnok could simply… change."

He doesn't respond or agree with what you said. The male figure materializes in front of you, and in all your existence as a goddess you have never seen him before. But he couldn't be just any deity, he wouldn't be able to get to this place if he were.

If you could blush, you certainly would have.

"If you follow me I can't rid you of your memories, but I can give you a new purpose to move forward."

At first, you looked at him with palpable disbelief, deeply intrigued. You were afraid. Fear of everything happening again, of being used, of returning to this damned place. However, something remained there. He didn't seem to be bluffing or lying.

He didn't look like Shinnok who in every measly word spat out a variety of lies to usurp power.

Something inside you tells you to believe him.

You look around you, there is no life beyond this. You were alone. Each deity, when he died, acquired the punishment he deserved inherent to his actions.

"If I accept your proposal, will I have the peace I seek?"

"Maybe… much more than that. You must walk the path for the answers you want."

He extends his hand towards her, offering a tender look that moves her, for the first time, in centuries or decades, perhaps? You don't know how to discern how much time has passed since your death. Hesitantly, you touched his hand and that place you had been confined in for so long dissolved into a distant mist.

A misty memory of a dream.

You shield your eyes from the brightness as you are greeted by the gentle wind of a morning, somewhere whose location is unknown. The world you once walked in prostrates itself before you again, this time a little different from that period but somehow familiar and welcoming. The birds chirp in a happy and infectious song while the soft sunlight touches their face warmly. You closed your eyes to taste the liberating taste of the usurped life, and for a brief moment you feel immeasurable relief at the sight of the vast rice fields and the village.

This world has changed during his absence, but at the same time, he feels that there is still a certain grace in it. Mortals have always captivated their attention in the little things, their appreciation for that land and its skills both in combat and its uniqueness.

 Your walk continues for a while longer, he takes you to an establishment. At the time of his entry, it was empty with just a few workers organizing the place. You don't understand at first his motivations for being here, but a middle-aged lady, upon noticing you, heads towards you.

"Liu Kang!" She greets excitedly. "I haven't seen him in a long time!"

He respectfully bows to her. You imitate the gesture, not wanting to appear rude.

"It's always a pleasure to see you again, Mistress Bo."

"So what brings you here?"

"Sorry to ask for one more favor out of the many I've already asked, but my guest needs to spend some time with you, if it's not inconvenient."

Her gaze flicks to you momentarily, looking you up and down, you flinch. Your clothes were not in the best condition, the kimono that once carried grace and subtlety was full of tears and blood marks, you immediately remember that infamous moment when your life was taken — the deep cut that marks your stomach. Instinctively, you bring your hand to the scar that extends from your lower back.

She was cauterized.

"Oh no, you know it doesn't bother her, on the contrary I will be very happy to help her. Gods, what happened to her? Poor thing, she looks horrible, covered in dirt and that is... Blood?"

"She… went through some difficult situations. I also hope to share your description."

You watch him without understanding why reality is blatantly omitted, he just shrugs and offers you a look as a silent request not to utter a single word.

Your thoughts are interrupted when your stomach makes a noise, as if a dark beast is living inside it.

The lady laughs.

You blush embarrassed.

"Don't worry Liu Kang, she is in good hands. Come young lady, let's prepare a nice bath and something for you to eat."

Without many options, you follow the woman into her affectionate grip. Turning to say goodbye, the god offers you a soft smile before disappearing.

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