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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 7 months

Note

omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33

thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!

Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)

This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.

Tangerine, Tangerine

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 4494

_______________________________________

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss.

Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”

“Green Two check.”

“Green Three check.”

It was just a kiss.

“Green Four check.”

It was just a-

“Green Five check.”

Just a-

“Green Six check.”

Just-

“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.”

It wasn’t just a kiss.

You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron.

This mission was straightforward - on a holopad.

Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons.

The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne.

Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure.

Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.

You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide.

The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them.

Simple.

In theory.

Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy.

But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going?

No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice.

You swallow.

You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart.

I hadn’t just been a kiss.

You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline.

He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that.

Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead.

It made a lot more sense.

Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own.

They had always been close. Always. Best friends.

Sickness bubbled in your throat.

You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it.

“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander.

“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?”

Hank chortled.

Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist.

Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you.

“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?”

Yeah. Now you had.

The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains.

Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet.

You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…

But you had thought it was…

It didn’t matter.

You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch.

That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss.

Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence.

It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons.

A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands.

You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next.

Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?

“That one here, you see it?”

“Yeah?”

“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”

You’d laughed.

“That’s me and you Moonbeam.”

Moonbeam. That stupid nickname.

You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you.

“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.”

That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’

You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on.

It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal.

Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay.

Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures.

“Fuck.”

The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled.

“Blue in place now!”

“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”

“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!”

“How far away is the Delta?”

“Calling in attack pattern!”

You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game.

That didn’t bode well.

You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction.

Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.

“Targeting not working!”

“It’s out!”

“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”

“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on.

“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!”

You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process.

“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.

You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?”

“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down.

It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard.

The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns.

Good.

But there’s so, so many of them.

Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems.

More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together.

The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing.

“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear.

You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through.

The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on.

“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter.

There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home.

Frizz.

“No…”

“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”

You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.

“Green Two check!” Cril.

“Green Three check!” Petal.

Nothing.

“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz.

The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes.

You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist.

There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity.

All you need is…

Another alarm.

“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!”

A chorus of yells answer you.

A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely.

And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard.

The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot.

“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist.

Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected.

You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons.

You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull.

It’s not enough.

You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it.

Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.

“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.

They must have scrambled after first contact.

The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell.

The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire.

You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational.

Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on.

Two chances left.

One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits.

Poe shouts for you over the intercom.

You don’t answer.

One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will.

Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call.

You don’t answer.

You fire. Hit.

Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it.

The canon doesn’t go down.

You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him.

You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.

“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do.

Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard.

“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard.

You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down.

Shouts over the radio, you barely make out-

“-cannon’s down-”

“-Jump!-”

A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.

The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-

The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream.

Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain.

You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob.

There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit.

The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it.

You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide.

Make it look like you had a weapon.

Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning.

Can’t let them take you alive.

There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down.

For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot.

You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue.

You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…

When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear.

I'm dead.

You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds.

But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.

And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.

“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use.

Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back.

“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good.

“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?”

“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper.

“What?”

“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-”

“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.”

You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe.

Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.”

You snort.

He smiles.

“Who did we lose?”

Hank sighs, “three…”

You nod, closing your eyes for a moment.

“There-”

There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.

You swallow, sickness building in your throat.

He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red.

He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages.

“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes.

“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.

Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.”

Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away.

“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”

“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”

He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?”

“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.”

The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?”

You nod.

“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart.

“You pushed her away?”

“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…”

“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”

“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.”

He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes.

“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”

“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”

“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head.

He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating.

You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly.

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.

“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.”

You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight.

“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins.

You scoff.

“You are.” He kisses you again.

You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home.

“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.”

You nod. “She’s a good person.”

He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.”

You touch his cheek lightly.

“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?”

You shake your head in surprise and he nods.

“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.”

You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper.

Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance.

Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted.

“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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holylulusworld · 3 months

Text

Get off my lawn

Title: Get off my lawn

Written for @buckybarnesbingo (Round 6)

Card: B004

Square Filled: Y5: Kink: A/B/O Society

Ship/Main Pairing: Alpha (Teacher) Bucky Barnes x Omega (Teacher) Reader

Rating: Mature

Major Tags/Triggers/Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, misogynism, arguments, enemies to lovers, idiots in love, panty theft, implied smut

Summary: You hate your neighbor and co-worker.

Word Count: 1632

@buckybarnesevents „Hot Bucky Summer 2024”: “We’re…enemies to lovers.”

@buckybingo (expired): Square 3: High School Teachers AU

@AllCapsBingo (expired): G3: AU: Teacher

@warmandfluffybingocards: Square 9: Enemies to lovers

@the-slumberparty (expired): Square 7: Lingerie

@buckbarnesbingo Round 5 (expired): B1: Knitting

You need time away from … everything and everyone.

Sometimes it’s hard to love your job. On days like this, when the parents of your students bug you because they believe you are more than a teacher you want to quit. According to some parents, you must be a therapist, a nanny, and a private tutor at the same time.

Impatiently clicking your pen, you listen to the last father’s rant. He’s angry because his son won’t do better than a D for months. It’s not your fault his son plays on his phone all the time.

“I’ll stop you right there,” you raise your hand, not letting the man argue with you. “It’s past my work time, still, I agreed to talk to you.” You rub your pounding temples. “Let’s be honest. Your son could do much better if only he put a little more effort into schoolwork. He just doesn’t want to.”

“That’s not true!” And he tries to argue again. Alphas are all the same. They try to force you into submission by raising their voice. “He’s a smart boy, but you don’t give him a chance.”

“Sir, I must ask you to lower your voice. I’m not your omega, and I resent your tone,” you get up from your seat. “Your son plays on his phone all the time. When I ask him to listen to the lecture, he gets cheeky. He doesn’t respect his teachers or fellow students. He’s disturbing the lectures too.”

“Mr. Barnes said my son is a good student,” the alpha snarls and puffs his chest. You roll your eyes and decide to end the conversation.

“Mr. Barnes is a gym teacher. Of course, he believes your son is a good student. Jack only ever shows interest if he can push others around and use his physical strength to intimidate others.”

“Are you implying that my son is a bully?”

“No,” you smile cooly. “I’m not implying that your son is a bully. I’m telling you that he is a bully. If you want Mr. Barnes to teach your son English too, you can ask him to be his tutor from now on.”

You grab your bag and jacket to leave the room, ignoring that the alpha snarls in your direction. You have handled men like him before and won’t whine only because he believes you must cower in front of him.

Today is not your day. First, you had to endure your student’s father, and now you run into the only co-worker you hate.

“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N,” James Buchanan Barnes, the cockiest motherfucker you ever met, purrs. “I heard you had trouble with Jake’s dad.” He grins, knowing he made things even harder for you. “Maybe you should leave the young alphas to me.”

“Maybe you should not stick your nose into other people’s business, Mr. Barnes,” you quip before marching away. He won’t get under your skin. Not today out of all days. It’s the last day of school. Summer lies ahead and you won’t allow him to ruin your mood.

“I wonder if you bought these for someone special,” Bucky laughs as he steps toward your fence to look at your rotary airer – or rather at your lingerie hanging on the airer. “I thought you hate any alpha.”

“Get. Off. My. Lawn,” you twirl around to glare at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? What kind of man sneaks around an unbonded omega’s house to stare at her lingerie?”

He snorts when you put your hands on your hips, and snarl in his direction. “I’m not on your lawn, doll. This is a public street. I can stand here as long as I want to.”

“If you don’t get out of my sight, you’ll regret it,” you point your index finger at Bucky. “I’m warning you.”

“You’re cute when you believe you can scare me,” he laughs. “What are you going to do, huh? Threaten to throw your lingerie at me.” Bucky throws his head back, laughing. “No, I know. You are going to stab me to death with your knitting needles.”

You growl loudly. “How do you know I knit?”

“Women like you,” he steps closer to your fence and puts his hands on it, “lonely omegas no one wants to mate spend their time with knitting and telling themselves they love being single.”

“You—” you inhale sharply before turning around. Bucky is still laughing when you grab the water hose. You suddenly turn back around to spray Bucky right in the chest, soaking his shirt. He ungracefully backpaddles.

“You…” He growls when you laugh at his predicament. “Do you think this is funny?” Bucky takes off his shirt and flings it at you. “You’ll wash it and give it back to me.”

For a moment, you look at his chest, drinking his defined abs in. He is perfectly toned, and you hate him even more when your eyes drop to his thick thighs.

“In your dreams,” you rip your eyes off his body to grab the shirt and toss it in his face. “Get away from my house, you creep. What kind of man stares at a lady’s lingerie?”

“Lady,” he snorts. “You’re a fury, not a lady!”

“Bastard!”

“Bitch!”

Bucky watches you storm off, an amused smirk on his lips. He loves to toy with you and rile you up. Your scent gets stronger, and you almost drown him in it. The alpha inhales deeply, purring low in his throat as his lower half yearns for something more than your scent…

“That bastard,” you pace back and forth in your living room, eyes drifting toward the wool and your knitting needles on the coffee table. “I should stab him with my needles. One day, I’ll do it.”

Your cat meows loudly. The stray you saved a year ago wants more food, not an angry omega disturbing its sleep. “What? I took you in. You should be on my side!”

You’re about to fight with your cat when a knock interrupts you. “Christ, can I not get a moment of silence?” You walk toward the door, taking deep breaths to calm down. You don’t want to yell at someone only because Bucky Barnes riled you up once again.

“Coming,” you coo while opening the door. You put on a fake smile, but it falls when no other than the thorn in your side stands in front of you. He waves his shirt and growls your name. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you; you’ll wash my shirt!”

“I told you to get off my lawn, bastard!”

You snatch the shirt out of his hands, drop it to the ground, and stomp on it before kicking it away. “If you come here again, I’ll stab you with my knitting needle.”

“I knew you are knit—” he can’t end his line because you slam the door in his face.

“Yeah, fuck you too!”

“Where are my…” You stare at the empty rotary airer. All your lingerie and even your favorite nightie is gone. There is nothing left but Bucky’s dirty shirt. “That motherfucker stole my panties!”

He made it. Today is the day you’ll end James Buchanan Barnes's life. You run inside to get your knitting needles, a grim expression on your face. He brought it upon himself with his cocky attitude and stupid smile. How dare he drown you in his scent anytime you are near him.

The alpha will die and it’s all his fault…

“Open the fucking door!” You harshly knock at his door. “I know you are at home, you fucker! Stealing is a crime. Trespassing is a crime too!”

Bucky slowly opens his door. Today the cocky fucker has his hair pulled back. The white undershirt he’s wearing is a little too tight. He smirks at you and crosses his muscular arms over his chest. “What can I do for you doll?”

“You know exactly what I want, Barnes,” you throw his dirty shirt in his face. “Give me back my lingerie and nightie, you fucking creep!”

“I don’t know what you are talking about?” He dips his head to let his eyes wander up and down your body. “If anyone stole clothes, it’s you. How did you get my shirt, doll?”

“You won’t get away with stealing from me,” you take a step closer to Bucky to push against his shoulders. He stumbles backward and hits the door with his back. Bucky yelps when you press one knitting needled against his crotch, poking his balls.

“Doll, what are you up to?” He watches you place your other hand on his chest, moving it up and down. “Y/N?”

“You’ll never underestimate me again,” moving your hand to his throat you smirk. “I want my lingerie back. If you don’t give them back, I’ll take something from you.”

“I can’t give them back,” he breathes heavily feeling the needly poke his sack. “I’d love to give them back…though…but…I can’t…I swear.”

“Why not? Did you give them to one of your one-nighters?” You snarl his name. “Where are my panties?”

“In my nightstand,” Bucky licks his lips. “They are dirty…though.”

You gape at him. “You fucker!”

“Yeah, I fucked them good and hard,” he grins when you drop the needle to cup his crotch. “I imagined it’s your needy hole I stuff with my thick cock.”

“You’re a pervert and a creep,” you fist his undershirt with both hands. “If you don’t want me to stab you with my knitting needle, you’ll wash my lingerie…”

“Hmm…” he purrs when you step away to move your hands under your summer dress. You shimmy out of your panties and ball them up. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, you will wash these with your dirty mouth…”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #buckybarnesbingo2024 #hotbuckysummer2024 #bucky barnes events #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #neighbor au #teacher au #bucky barnes x y/n #female reader #x reader #a/b/o

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pretzel-box · 24 days

Note

Might I humbly request more streamer au Sebastian?? I don't have a specific prompt so honestly do whatever you'd like!

SEQUEL TO THE STREAMER AU

PART 1 HERE

Tags: Doubt, Comedy, Teasing, Slightly Fluff, Streamer AU

Words: 1,6k

You glanced at the message on your screen, your eyes narrowing in playful suspicion.

“Jellybeanie_?”

Even though it was just a jumble of words on the flat screen, you could almost hear the amusement behind the way Solace wrote your username. It was a name that carried a bit of a past, a digital footprint that had followed you through your early streaming days. Your father had given you the nickname "Jellybeanie" when you were young, and it stuck, especially during your awkward teenage years when you thought beanies were the pinnacle of cool fashion. There was a bit of irony there, considering the sheer volume of cringe it represented. You had done everything to erase that phase from existence, deleting your weird selfies, throwing the beanies out and pretending you’re too cool for silly headwear—except for the username. Somehow, it had become part of your identity, both endearing and a little bit embarrassing.

"Don't judge it, Shoelaced_Seb42," you shot back with a grin, your fingers flying over the keyboard as the heat of the moment pulled you in. You could only imagine what kind of story was behind his own name. Maybe it was a wordplay with “shoelace” and “Solace,” but “Seb42”? That was anyone’s guess. There had to be a story there, too—everyone had one.

His reply came almost instantly. “Careful, doll. I don't want to reveal my edgelord side in front of a cute bean like you.”

You felt a flutter in your chest, something warm and annoyingly familiar. Damn him for knowing exactly how to get under your skin—and damn you for liking

While you had no problem flirting with Solace during your nightly gaming streams, your real-life roommate was a different story entirely. It was a cruel twist of fate, really. Your fans always talked about how well you and Solace—a famous streamer with a massive following—got along. They called you "the perfect duo," and more than a few shipped you two. They didn't know the irony of the situation. Because in reality, when you weren't "Jellybeanie_", there was no Pressured_Solace, just Sebastian.

The Sebastian who would leave his empty coffee mugs all over the apartment. The Sebastian who would blast his music at ungodly hours, regardless of how many times you'd told him you needed quiet for your recordings. The Sebastian who seemed to have made it his life mission to be the most insufferable person you'd ever met.

You had moved into this apartment months ago, both of you, lured by the promise of a prime location and cheap rent—only to discover that you couldn't go five minutes without bickering over something mundane. The Wi-Fi. The thermostat. The last of the milk.

"Seriously, Sebastian," you muttered under your breath the next morning after your midnight chat with Solace, staring at the empty carton of milk your roommate left in the fridge. "Is it too much to ask for you to throw this out? Or better yet, buy more?"

Sebastian sauntered into the kitchen, tousled black hair sticking up at odd angles, a lazy grin on his face. "Morning to you too, sunshine," he said, ignoring your frustration completely. He tossed his phone onto the counter and grabbed a can of energy drink from the pantry. "Did you see my note?"

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. "Yeah, I saw it. It was crumpled up in the trash. Nice touch."

He just smirked, leaning back against the counter as he cracked open the can. "You know, I think you secretly love our little banter," he said, taking a sip and watching you with those infuriatingly bright eyes of his. He was definitely teasing you, his tone wasn't like Solace his…Sebastian was the ungodly opposite, annoying, mean and insufferable.

"Love is a strong word," you shot back, fighting the urge to hit him with the empty milk box. He had this way of getting under your skin, making you react, and he seemed to take endless delight in it.

When night fell and the cameras turned on, it was a different story. As Jelly you felt like you were seeing a different side of life by spending time with Solace. The witty banter, the playful teasing over the text messages—it felt real. More real than the stupid arguments with your roommate over dish duty or who got to use the bathroom first in the mornings.

You’d been doing collaborative streams with Solace for months now. What had started as a random pairing in a popular online game had quickly turned into a regular thing, and your viewers loved it. There was a chemistry there—an undeniable spark that had even you questioning what was real and what was just for show.

And the more you streamed together, the more you found yourself looking forward to those late-night gaming sessions. The way he made you laugh, the way he’d check in to make sure you were okay if things got too intense in-game. There was a kindness to him—a depth that you didn’t see in the Sebastian you shared your living space with.

“So, Jelly,” his voice crackled through your headset, bringing you back to the game at hand. “What’s the plan? You gonna carry us to victory, or should I start writing my will now?”

You chuckled, glancing at the chat as messages flew by. Your viewers were eating this up. “I don’t know, Solace,” you replied, your tone playful. “Maybe I’ll let you die first and then come in for the save. Would make for great content.”

He laughed, a sound that sent a small thrill through you. “Always thinking about the content. That’s why you’re the best.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the compliment, a smile tugging at your lips. Damn him. Why did he have to be so... nice? And why did you have to like it so much?

It was nearly 3 a.m. by the time your stream ended. You stretched, feeling the fatigue settle into your bones. As you stepped out of your room, you were startled to find Sebastian in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge.

He looked up as you entered, a frown on his face. “Late night?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes, too tired to muster up a proper retort. “Like you’re one to talk,” you muttered, grabbing a water bottle from the counter.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence, the kind that seemed to fill every corner of the small apartment. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, “Do you ever… wonder what your online friends are like in real life?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful. “I mean, it’s easy to get along with someone when you’re just a username and a voice on a screen. But in real life… things are different.”

You studied him for a moment, unsure of where this was coming from. “Yeah,” you said slowly. “I guess you’re right. People can be… different.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned back to the fridge. “Anyway, good night,” he said over his shoulder as he grabbed a snack and headed back to his room.

“Good night,” you replied, watching him go. You couldn’t help but wonder about the sudden shift in his demeanor. The whole conversation was just a giant question mark and you didn't understand where the sudden question came from.

A week passed, and you couldn't stop thinking about that night in the kitchen. Your streams with Solace were becoming more frequent, and with every passing game, you felt that connection deepening. It was confusing. Especially after Sebastian's words from last week, you actually don't know much about Solace. What he looks like, what his job is, if he has a partner…God he could be a 65 year old man named Josh that drives a truck and eats Hamburgers every day for lunch. He could be anyone.

And then, one fateful night, everything changed.

You were streaming a new co-op game with Solace when a message popped up in the chat from a mutual fan. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if Jelly and Seb were roommates IRL?”

You laughed it off, typing a quick response. “Yeah, imagine that chaos!”

Seb responded with a chuckle, “We’d probably drive each other insane.”

But the thought lingered. Your eyes drifted over to his username again—Pressured_Solace. You hated the feeling of having a crush on someone who was out of reach, someone who had not a face and not a real name. And it crushed you not to know if you would ever know more about him. Wondering if all the flirting and the jokes were just a facade for the streams or if he actually tries to get close to you.

Your sudden silence must have been noticeable because Solace his voice came through your headset, concerned. “Jelly? You okay?”

You swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself. “Yeah, I… I just thought of something.”

“Like what?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly, too quickly. “Just… something funny. I'll tell you later.”

But as you ended the stream, you knew there was no way you were going to let this go. Not without finding out the truth behind Solace.

The stream ended, the microphone turned off and you leaned back into your chair, fumbling with the cables of your headphones.

“Solace?” Your fingers moved on the glowing keyboard, texting him on discord. The most healthy thing was confrontation instead of confusion and you collected your courage to ask him for a picture.

“What's up, Jellybeanie!~”

“Can I get a picture?” It didn't take long till he replied with a spoiler-covered picture, adding a secretive emoji that holds a finger in front of their mouth. Your heart skips a beat, anxiety and excitement rushing through your mind and you click on the image with shaky hands.

It was a fish. He trolled you.

“SOLACE!”

“ALR ALR CHILL BEANIE!1!1”

He send another picture.

And in a single moment, it hit you hard.

And you screamed.

#sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #roblox pressure #sebastian solace fanfic #pressure #pressure x reader #streamer au

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nrnyx · 1 year

Text

PROMPT: How about Derek and Stiles meeting at a dog adoption event and falling in love over the same dog.

Thank you @steelcodewolf-blog for the prompt!

Stiles ran up to the counter and slammed his application down. “For Sparky!” he gasped out of breath as he’d just sprinted the entire mile to the adoption agency after his jeep broke down. It was finally the day. Stiles was free of his lease agreement and moving into a pet-friendly apartment. He could have a dog - his dog because he’d been visiting Sparky for months now after seeing his cute picture online.

The animal shelter staff held Sparky as long as they could for him, but he’d been warned that today was their big adoption fair, and Sparky would be part of the group being pushed hardest for adoption. Sparky had already been with them for nearly a year before Stiles showed up, and before that, poor Sparky had been shipped from another shelter in New York. The shelter couldn’t hold him if someone wanted to adopt him.

Stiles hadn’t been too worried. One of the reasons Sparky was still around was because he was a rather large and somewhat alarming German Shepard mix that might have actually been a wolf-dog, but the shelter didn’t have the funds to test his genetics, to be sure. Sparky had never been aggressive or tried to attack anyone. He was a chill dog that loved belly rubs, so he remained up for adoption.

The staff even said that Stiles was the only person Sparky had ever shown an interest in. Sparky didn’t really like toys, wasn’t interested in other dogs or attention of any kind really, but he liked Stiles. The staff said he already knew the sound of Stiles's jeep and only ever bothered barking to alert them that Stiles was coming. Stiles adored the old grump right back and had visited him at least once every few days with the hopes that no one else would take notice of just how awesome Sparky was.

Being a newly graduated college student and an intern with the FBI didn’t exactly bring in the big bucks yet, so Stiles had to wait for his lease to be up in order to find a new place to live that allowed pets. He’d managed to scrape up enough extra money for the rather hefty pet deposit and had Sparky a new bed, food, and dog tags waiting for him in the jeep, which they would have to walk back to, but he was sure Sparky would like the chance to stretch his legs.

It was going to be awesome.

Martha’s face fell as soon as she realized it was him, and Stiles felt his heart falling right along with her look of pity. “Stiles…” she started, but Stiles didn’t give her time to finish.

“Where’s Sparky? Please tell me you didn’t give him to some stranger off the street! I’ve been coming in for months!” Stiles protested in disbelief. How could they betray him? He thought they were all rooting for him and Sparky. He’d told them he would be in by the end of the day. They promised that even if someone tried to adopt, they wouldn’t let Sparky leave the same day. They’d make an excuse to hold him as long as they could for Stiles.

“I’m so sorry, Stiles. I know how excited you’ve been. This must be so heartbreaking for you, but his dad showed up,” the woman explained with actual tears in her eyes.

Stiles couldn’t find his voice. That had been the last thing he’d expected to hear. “His dad?” he finally managed to get out. “His dad?”

“Yes, he had proof -”

“He lost him! He lost him for over a year, and you’re just going to let him walk in and take him! Just like that? Clearly, the guy wasn’t a responsible dog parent to begin with. I mean, what kind of evidence did this guy have?”

“Uh Stiles…” Martha tried to interrupt, but Stiles was on a roll. There was no way Sparky was going anywhere with anyone but him.

“Because photos can be photoshopped, and videos can be falsified. I know! I work for the FBI. Who is this guy? I want to see some I.D. and this so-called evidence. No one is leaving here with Sparky until I hear this assholes side of the story because there’s no way Sparky - ”

“Jacks,” a male voice spoke up from beside him, and Stiles was momentarily left speechless as he turned and caught sight of, frankly, the most attractive guy he’d ever seen in his entire life, and he’d gone to school with Jackson Whittmore.

“Holy shit, adopt me,” Stiles mumbled before his brain-to-mouth filter could catch up.

The guy's eyebrows did something impressive. “What?”

“What?” Stiles asked back equally as dumbfounded. Honestly, he was just as surprised as anyone at what came out of his mouth sometimes.

“Stiles, uhh… meet Sparky’s… I’m sorry. I mean Jacks’s dad, Derek Hale,” Martha introduced as Stiles's big brain tried to get back online. “Apparently, Jacks was stolen about a year ago. His dad’s been looking for him ever since. He tracked him down here all the way from New York. Crazy, right?” Martha laughed nervously as she looked between the two.

Stiles eyed Derek Hale for a long moment and already felt himself accepting this new disappointing reality. The guy looked like Sparky’s dad. They both had a certain wolfishness about them that was undeniable. Honestly, Derek Hale had to be the most dedicated dog dad in the world to have tracked his lost dog all the way across the continent.

Stiles felt himself deflating. “I’m glad you guys are reunited. I’m sure Sparky - I mean Jacks is pumped to see you again.”

Derek fished his phone from his pocket and turned it so Stiles could see the screen saver, which was truthfully the most adorable picture of the two together and obviously happy. “After he was taken, it took me a while to track him down. I found out that a shelter in New York shipped him to the West Coast, thinking he’d have a better chance of being adopted, but they couldn’t tell me where he ended up. I started checking shelters in Washington and was working my way down the coast when I saw an ad for today’s event. Jacks picture was part of it.”

“I’m glad you found him,” Stiles offered again, unable to look at the guy as he said it even though he did mean it. He couldn’t even get that kind of dedication out of a boyfriend. This guy was like a superhero or something. “Cool, well I gotta go…”

Derek opened his mouth to say something, but Jimmy from the back was calling for him. Stiles knew Jimmy was the one who typically got the adopted dogs ready and brought them out to greet their new owners. He needed to get out of there. Stiles didn’t think he could say goodbye to Sparky- well, Jacks, which was a much more suitable and dignified name, he supposed.

Derek, with his man stubble and leather jacket, looked like a guy who would own a dog named Jacks.

More proof that they fit together.

While Derek was distracted, Stiles slipped away, shoulders slumped as he started the long walk back to his jeep. About halfway there, a familiar bark froze him in his tracks. Stiles turned just in time to see a black pickup slowing down to a stop beside him. The passenger window was down, and Jacks's big head was sticking out of it.

“Do you live around here?” Derek called from the driver's side as he leaned out of the way of Jack’s aggressively thumping tail.

Jacks whined, and Stiles immediately reached out to soothe him, running a hand over his massive ears and scratching how he knew Jacks liked. This earned him a great big lick across his face in return. Stiles laughed, swatting playfully, but Jacks only pushed closer, beginning to lick Stiles in earnest.

“That’s amazing. The shelter told me about you visiting him. I didn’t believe them at first. Jacks has never taken to… well, anyone else really,” Derek spoke up again, amusement clear in his voice as Stiles tried to fend off all the affection being lavished on him. Jacks had never been quite this excited to see him either, but it was a very welcome shift after the heartbreak he’d been feeling a moment ago.

At least Stiles knew Jacks would miss him too. “Yeah, me and him… we kind of bonded while he was waiting on you.” Stiles shrugged in reply taking a small step back and almost giving in again when Jacks whined in protest.

Derek glanced at Jacks, before reaching out and patting him on the back in a reassuring way. “They said he was pretty depressed before you came around. Wasn’t eating much or leaving his kennel,” Derek explained. Stiles hadn’t known that part, but he was glad he helped Jacks until Derek found him. It was at least some comfort he could take home with him.

“I should uh… get back to my jeep,” Stiles said, pointing his thumb in the direction he was walking.

As much as he liked seeing Jacks he really wanted to get home and have a good cry in private. Not only was he losing Jacks, but Jacks owner happened to be an insanely hot guy right out of Stiles's fantasies and entirely out of his league. It just reminded Stiles of exactly how lonely he was these days. Loneliness and his last breakup had been the whole reason Stiles was on the shelter’s page looking at adoptable dogs in the first place.

“It’s parked a little down the road. I need to call a tow,” Stiles felt the need to explain, hoping his ears weren’t as red as they probably were. It was a bit embarrassing, but the jeep had been his mom’s, and he only had a few more years as a lowly FBI intern before he could afford to get it fixed properly. Maybe he could get his pet deposit back. That would help pay for the tow truck he was going to need to call.

Derek leaned over to unlatch the door. “Hop in. I’ll drive you down there and take a look. I’m a mechanic.”

Stiles couldn’t help how his mouth fell open. Could this guy be any more perfect? The only thing that would be better was if he were -

“And maybe you’ll let me and Jacks take you to dinner… you know, as a thank you for looking out for him.” Derek sent him a wolfish smile that had probably seduced the panties off of hundreds of college co-eds back in his day. Stiles wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he could now be bunched into that category.

“Uhh yeah okay…” Because what else was he going to say. Jacks moved over a bit to give him room, and as soon as Stiles settled, he had a lap full of wolfdog.

Derek threw his head back and laughed. “Doesn’t look like he’s going to be letting you leave so easily.”

Stiles cleared away the lump in his throat and buried his face in Jacks soft fur. “I don’t mind.”

#sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek au #sterek fanfiction #sterek fanfic #eternal sterek #stiles x derek #derek x stiles #sterek fic #sterek prompt #steelcodewolf-blog #getting my sterek mojo back

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yourfatherlucifer · 8 months

Text

Shark Bait (Hongjoong)

Shark Hybrid!Hongjoong x Mermaid!Reader

Summary: Living in a world full of different creatures and humans, some mixed together, creating hybrids. You were just a mermaid though, an ancient tale from the sea. He was something every human feared, even merfolk feared. But you fell in love, how could it be so forbidden?

Warnings: Talks of species violence

AU: Hybrid

Genre: Fluff

WC: 900+ (unfinished)

Rated: PG-13 for violence

Nets: not tagging because I didn’t finish this story and I just want to get it out of my drafts.

“Mom, look at this thing I found! It looks like it was from the pirate era!” You shoved a goblet in front of your mothers face, “Must be some kind of cup?”

You pulled it back to examine it further. Your mother shook her head.

“Y/N, we talked about this, I understand you like your scavenging, you’re an adult you can do as you’d like, but please, take it somewhere else.” She folded her arms.

“I don’t like those human objects. They just bring misfortune.” Her tail swayed behind her.

You had rolled your eyes at him before clutching the found object to your chest, “And what misfortune do you speak of mother? It’s a cup.”

You loved living in the ocean, though, you had no idea what land life was like anyway. Still, you loved the shiny sea life, the coral, the seaweed, the little treasures you’d find at the bottom of the ocean.

Some you’d even bring to your little siblings, they’d love the gifts. Sometimes they’d even wanna go on a journey with you, but you or your parents would never allow it. They were still very young and there were dangers that lurked in the waters.

Despite being friendly with the sea life, there were still some that didn’t like you. The sharks for example, especially the great whites. They loved to harass the merfolk.

So you had to be careful when investigating ship wrecks, making sure there were no bodies. You always felt bad for the humans who got lost at sea, so you’d guide them back. However, there were always the bad humans, the ones that would try to capture you for your body, to take you as a trophy or a ‘pet’.

That didn’t stop you from loving your life and exploring. Your parents considering you to be adventurous, they always worried about you, scared you’d get hunted by a shiver of sharks. You never did though, you were always careful.

Your mother scoffed at you, she was almost seething with anger, "It doesn't matter, Y/N! You are always going into the dangerous waters without thinking! Just to get your stupid trinkets, that we have no use of! What, what are we gonna do with a goblet!" Her arms thrown up.

You couldn't understand why your mother was being like this, you were always safe, nothing had happened, ever.

“Y/N, please. Just listen to me. Your step father and I care for you and are worried of your adventures,” you could feel the ‘air’ turning somber, “I’ve never told you what actually happened to your father.”

After so many years, she was finally going to give you answers? And for what? Just to stop you from having fun? It isn’t right. You never grieved your fathers death, because you never met the dude. So what does his death have to do with anything?

Your mother took the goblet from your hands and brought you inside your cove home, "Listen, your father was the same way, he loved his little adventures, just as you do. That's where you got it from," she took a deep breath, "He'd always bring me little presents when I was pregnant with you."

She smiled as she recalled those delightful memories.

"But one day he didn't return. He was with some buddies, on yet another adventure for me presents. He wanted to some stuff for you to have."

You could see her emotions unraveling but continued to listen, "When he didn't return for hours, I was so scared. Then his friends came here. Without him."

"They told me they were attacked by sharks. Your father was the only who didn't make it. Said he distracted the sharks so they could get away."

At this point your mother had tears streaming down her face, even if you couldn't tell with the water.

When she wiped her tears away, she stared at you once again, "That is why I don't like your adventures. These attacks on our people are getting too common. I don't want to lose you, Y/N, you're all I have left of your father. I hated those trinkets after he passed."

Even after the talk with her, I still didn't care, I didn't know him. I was always careful anyway, never once have I come across a shark, maybe a nurse shark but they're friendly. It was the great whites, goblin sharks, tiger sharks and other sharks that were aggressive.

I had found another shipwreck, ways from the last one I discovered earlier, this looked fairly new, couldn't know exactly when it sank though.

It was a smaller boat, looked like one those humans partied on, what did they call it? Yacht, I think? Wonder how it got sunk.

Humans could be idiots when it came to anything.

I wedged myself inside, careful not to catch my tail on anything. There were a few shiny things, a small rectangle about the size of my hand, I think the humans called these phones, not too sure. It was useless underwater, so I just placed it back where I found it.

While searching for miscellaneous objects, I didn't realize the boat had been swarmed by sharks. My predator.

Once I had stopped searching, I turned to make my way out, only to be met with huge jaws, razor sharp teeth, and pale gray skin. A great white shark. The King of the seas.

I swam back further into the boat and in response the shark mauled the small entrance with its mouth, trying to get to me. Oh my god, I should've listened to my mother, now I am going to die just as my father did.

I cried out in fear, I didn't want to die.

As the shark approached me, something pushed it out of the way, I could hear shouts, "Back off! Didn't I tell you to stop killing the mermaids!"

You poked your head out in confusion, what was going on?

The figure swam up to me, I could finally figure out its features. It was a boy..about my age. He’s beautiful. However, he adorned a fin on his back and razor sharp teeth.

He held his hand up to me but I slowly swam back into the boat, “Hey! Wait, it’s okay! I’m not going to hurt you.”

He smiled, “My name is Hongjoong, I’m a shark-hybrid. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna do anything, I just wanna be your friend.”

UNFINISHED

#ateez x reader #ateez #x reader #Hongjoong x reader #Kim Hongjoong x reader

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runningfrom2am · 10 months

Text

leveling the playing field XI

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: nothing much to say other than thank you guys and i hope you like it :)

next part

"You can't call me that here!" You hiss, taking the final steps out into the summer nights breeze.

"Never mind that, what are you doing here?" Coriolanus asks as soon as the door to the back of the building shuts behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet alley behind the Hob.

You groan, dragging your hands over your face. "I had nowhere to go."

"Well, I... what happened?"

"Does it really matter?" You just shake your head looking up at him now, face red with anger. "If we're gonna talk, how about we talk about how you tried to drag me down to hell with you, huh? How about we talk about you showing up after trying to ruin my life and kissing me like I'm some kind of object to you! After all this time! Let's talk about that!"

Coryo takes a sharp breath in, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "You're not an object." He says, a hint of disgust in his voice, upset that you would even imply that he felt that way.

"Funnily enough, that is the bottom of my list of concerns right now!" You laugh dryly. "I thought we were friends! I thought you cared! And maybe that was stupid of me but don't come back now saying that you do." Your narrowed eyes are rimmed with tears now, and he can see that you're hurt despite you trying to shield it in anger.

"We are friends, I-"

"No, Coriolanus, we aren't, because friends don't do that!"

"Will you stop fucking interrupting me!" He shouts, making you jump. He's fed up with you always having to have the last word. "For once, just one time, will you let me explain?"

You just stare at him, jaw grit as you look up at him. You've never looked softer, your clothes and your hair are so loose and freeing and unlike you and you've somehow never looked more like yourself.

"I'm sorry. Okay?" He says, taking a hesitant step closer to you.

"Is that all you've got?" You scoff, nodding to yourself and pushing past him to walk back inside.

He can't let you go again, he just can't. He grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"Y/N, listen, I'm sorry. I regretted it the moment I said it, I shouldn't have pulled you into that but they already knew and I just wanted to be able to help you." Internally you roll your eyes, relaxing your arm so he knows you won't run. You'll hear him out. "All I wanted was for you to come with me, I thought they would ship us off together."

"Me? As a peacekeeper? Un-fucking-likely." You reply bitterly. "Did you think that through for even a second before you decided that I would be better off with you? Or were you just scared of being alone?"

The question makes him pause, which was enough hesitation for you to pull your arm away and start walking off toward the street. "Tigris wanted me to tell you they love you, by the way!" You call back over your shoulder, turning the corner and disappearing out of his view.

You walk around the building and back to the front entrance, hoping you could lose him in the crowd if he decides to follow you. You were no longer in any mood to dance, that's for sure, so you would just wait for the show to end in the back where you first talked to Lucy Gray again. You push through the abundance of people dancing, the music blaring in your ears. You make it to the desolate hallway, attempting to gather yourself before you really start to cry.

"Y/N?" You hear someone call from behind you, and you turn at the use of your real name. It didn't sound like Coryo, or any of the Covey band.

"Sejanus!" You squeal, running back toward him and tackling him in a hug. "God, I have never been happier to see your face in my life." You sigh, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"Likewise." He chuckles, rubbing your back. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm great." You grin, taking a step back to talk to him face-to-face instead.

"We have to find Coriolanus, he'll be thrilled to see you." He says, looking over his shoulder to see if he could spot the blonde anywhere in the crowd.

"Ugh." You groan, rolling your eyes. "No, I saw him."

He snaps his head back, looking at you confused. "You don't seem happy." He observes, stating the obvious.

"Tell me, Sejanus," You muse, resting a hand on your hip as you shift your weight. "If you had someone you perceived as more than a friend take the liberty of framing you for something that could cost you your whole life when they knew you were innocent, would you forgive them if their only apology was a kiss?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. You knew you were stretching the truth, but Coriolanus had done the same thing, clearly, so what was the harm in wanting Sejanus on your side?

"I... what? No, he didn't- he didn't tell me that." He looks shocked, looking back again to see if he could see him.

"Well. That's what just happened, weirdly enough." You laugh, shrugging to try and portray that you don't really care much more than that.

"I- um... We were told you were sick." He changes the subject now, something you're happy about because one more thought about Coryo and you might be in tears; or you might start throwing things.

"Sick? No." You shake your head. "I ran because if I hadn't, I'd be six feet under in the Capitol cemetery by now, no doubt. That or I'd be lacking a tongue."

"Oh, wow." He doesn't know what to say, so you just hum in agreement. "Coriolanus almost convinced me you were dead, but I knew better. They couldn't kill you if they tried, I don't think."

You chuckle, shrugging slightly. "Well, yeah. So that's been my life recently. Now I'm staying with Lucy Gray." You explain. "But what about you? You follow out here Coryo too?"

"More or less." He nods, a slight smile on his face. "Hey, uh, I've got to go, got some business to take care of but we'll get together again soon, okay? I'm really glad you're alive."

You nod, hugging him again. "Yeah, of course. I'm staying at this ugly, old grey house at the edge of the seam, past the end of the road. There's goats out back, you can't miss it. You'd think there's nothing out there, but trust me, we'll be there. Come by sometime when you're free, okay?"

"Will do." He agrees, hugging you back for just a moment. "I'll see you soon, Miss Sage." He teases, giving you a polite bow before turning to return to the party. You furrow your brow a bit as he almost directly approaches Billy Taupe, Lucy Gray's ex alongside one of his scummy friends, but you decide to mind your business. Sejanus was always too nice to everyone for his own good, anyway.

"Y/N's here." Coriolanus states, both him and Sejanus helping to carry their intoxicated bunkmates back to the barracks. "You see her?"

"I did, yeah, I talked to her." He nods, eyes straight ahead as their shoes crunch over the gravel.

"You talked to her? When?"

"A little after her performance, she was heading to this back room. Seemed awfully upset."

Coryo sighs. "What did she tell you?"

"That you betrayed her." Sejanus answers simply, adjusting his friend's arm over his shoulder. "That she was going to be killed or worse if she stayed."

"That's not-" Coryo thinks it over. "I didn't betray her, Sejanus. We know one baseline thing about Y/N Y/L/N and it's that she is, if nothing else, dramatic."

"Really? I wouldn't describe her that way." Sejanus argues subtly. "She's outspoken, maybe slightly obnoxious at times, but I feel like I am too. The one thing I know for sure about her is that she's not a liar, Coriolanus."

Coryo doesn't know if he's more angry about Sejanus calling you 'obnoxious' or framing it so nicely that you don't keep your mouth shut when you probably should. You were his girl, his. No one should talk about you like that but him- praise you or critique you all the same. You didn't know it yet, necessarily, but you were his to protect and to fix, if need be. You were rough around the edges, that's for certain, but you would mellow out eventually if you ever forgave him. "She wouldn't let me explain."

"Oh, was this before or after you kissed her as an apology?" Sejanus matches the heavy statement with a laugh and Coryo rolls his eyes at his response.

"I just, I needed her to know I did it because I care. I thought she was dead."

"Okay, well, she told me where she's staying. Told me to stop by on a day off." Sejanus admits. "Maybe you should come with me."

"Maybe." He agrees.

It was another week of torturous loneliness before Coriolanus was graced with a day off, and not even so much graced as he had to trade with one of his bunkmates to have the same day off as Sejanus. As soon as they ate they grabbed a couple bags of ice to bring with them to help you and your new friends beat the heat- a peace offering, of sorts.

The early August sun beat down on their backs as they walked through the Seam, a decrepit and rundown residential area that Coryo had no doubt had never seen a single air conditioner in all its days. There's no way you were happy here. Even with the lightness of his t-shirt and the early hour, he still had to fight the urge to remove it and instead drape it over his head to shade his skin from the sun.

"There's nothing down here. She lied to you." Coryo mutters as the already crumbled road falls into nothing more than a trail.

"Y/N said we had to keep going past the road." Sejanus says, looking back at him over his shoulder. "You want to hate her so bad, but you can't."

"I certainly can." Coryo grumbles in denial. "She's giving me the runaround. Obviously, she gave you fake directions-"

"Are you sure about that?" His friend replies smugly, looking through the overgrown trees ahead at a small grey house circled in by a white fence that hadn't seen a wash in years.

Coriolanus doesn't say anything, mentally rolling his eyes at being proven wrong. "Alright, go knock, then." He gestures for his friend to go ahead.

"This is your big plan to win her over? Hide in the bushes while I go in?"

"No. I'm just sure she lied and a local drunk is about to open the door with a gun pointed at your head."

"Suit yourself." Sejanus replies lightheartedly, practically skipping up to the door and giving it a few gentle knocks before taking a step back.

It's only a few moments and lots of chatter from inside before the door is swung open. "Hello there, what can we do ya' for?" Lucy Gray grins, and Sejanus looks pointedly over his shoulder at Coryo.

"Hi, I'm Sejanus, I'm a friend of Y/N's from back home." He explains and she smiles.

"Of course! I thought I recognized you, come on in, she's out in the back but you can just pass right through." She lets him in, looking at Coryo standing just outside of the fence line.

"You coming, Coriolanus?" She asks, raising an eyebrow as she holds the door, leaning against the frame.

He plasters on a smile, nodding and walking up to her on the porch that he's shocked doesn't collapse under his feet. "How are you?" She grins at him. "It's good to see you."

"You too." He nods. "I'm glad to see you made it home safe."

"Hey, well, welcome to the club." She chuckles, closing the door behind him. "Y/N's just out back." She points toward the back door. "But she's not too keen about seeing you, you know."

"So I've heard." Coryo sighs. "The feeling is mutual."

"Then why are you here?" She asks her previous mentor calmly. He's stumped by this, unsure how to respond. "Well, if it helps, I'm real glad you're here. I missed you." Lucy Gray promises, leading him to the back door and swinging it open.

Your head turns at the appearance of Coryo's silhouette on the back stairs. You internally groan, of course Sejanus would bring him. "And you brought Coriolanus." You smile bitterly at your friend, sliding an ice cube from the bag across your bare collarbones over the shirt you had now cut the sleeves off completely to turn into a tube top.

"Yeah, well, I figured you might want to actually talk." Sejanus offers, raising an eyebrow at you.

"We wanted to make sure you were doing okay here. Living up to your high standards." Coryo replies for you.

"Do I look uncomfortable to you?" You ask, placing a hand on your hip. "Well, now you've seen it all. Thanks for coming, Coriolanus, but I'm clearly happy here, so you can be on your way. Don't you have a rebel to shoot at?"

"Hey, woah-" Sejanus chuckles, holding his hands out to you in mock surrender. "Y/N, we just wanted to visit. I know I speak for both of us when I say that we've missed you."

You sigh, rolling your eyes slightly. You were nothing if not polite, raised to be a flawless hostess in your own home. "Alright. Sit." You gesture to the patch of grass next to you, by the little garden you're digging into to start some fall flowers. You've always wanted to try a garden, but your family paid people to do that and you didn't have the time, so why would you?

Lucy Gray and Sejanus do most of the talking, and you try to avoid looking up much from the dirt you're digging up and the small seeds you're planting. Coriolanus is sitting too close to Lucy Gray for your comfort, but you've been working on your temper, and until he showed back up it was going really well.

"Lucy Gray!" Billy Taupe calls from the front of the house, drawing all of your attention. You'd seen more of him than you have cared to since you've been here, he just won't leave her alone.

"Oh lord, here we go." She huffs, standing up and brushing off her skirt.

"I'll come with you." Sejanus offers quickly, standing as well. You're reminded of how, apparently, he and Billy Taupe know each other but you still can't understand why. The two of them disappear around the side of the house, and you're left alone with Coriolanus.

You keep a straight face, continuing with your cycle. Dig a hole, move the dirt, bury the seed, water it, repeat.

"What are you planting?" He decides to break the silence, moving a little closer to you and leaning back on his palms.

"Flowers, some fruit." You mumble back, keeping your focus on your hands.

"Isn't it a bit late in the season?" He asks, head tilted as he watches you.

"Raspberries are perennials." You reply plainly. "And roses bloom until late fall, do they not?"

"They do." He nods in confirmation, smiling a little to himself. Raspberries and roses together. He wonders if you even know what you're doing, or if this was a subconscious yearning you didn't know you had; to be with him in every form.

"Then there's no harm in planting them now." You say, stopping to take a quick break. You lean back on your calves where you were kneeling, grabbing the ice bag that is now mostly melted to drink out of. You hold it out to Coryo when you're done, shaking it when he hesitates to take it from your hand. "Drink. It's hot, you'll get dehydrated quickly even just sitting out here."

Coryo takes it at that, looking away quickly when he catches that glimpse of pity in your eyes, the same look that plagued him in the weeks leading up the the games and after he thought you died. He hated it until then, but now, maybe it wasn't so bad. At least you were looking at him, and it seemed like it was some kind of inherent need you had to take care of him. The thought of that made his stomach flip.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you." You say suddenly, catching him so off guard he almost spits out his water. District life really must have been changing you, and it was worse than he imagined. It wasn't just the loose-fitting clothes that were one stitch away from falling off of your frame, however breathtaking they may somehow look. Now, Y/N Y/L/N was in the business of issuing apologies? Someone call a doctor. "I shouldn't have said... that. It was cruel."

Coryo nods slightly, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I figured you didn't mean it."

"You were lucky they had already decided my guilt. I would have torn your head off by now, otherwise." That's the Y/N I know.

"Sejanus told me they were going to execute you."

"Well, not necessarily." You sigh, pulling your skirt back out of the way before digging your hands back into the dirt. "It wasn't stated, but it was service that was suggested. Possibly nursing, probably under my father back home. When I climbed out my window, they were discussing the possibility of having me turned into an Avox. Highbottom said I knew too much, but I know my father would rather shamelessly bury me than have his oldest turned into a symbol of rebellion." You explain, now seeing no harm in telling him the full story.

"What do you know, anyway?" Coriolanus asks. It had been bothering him for a long time, and up until a week ago, he thought you took those secrets to the grave.

"That he and my father are proprietors of the largest drug ring Panem has ever seen." You answer simply, a smug smile taking over your features as you press some dirt carefully over a planted seed. "The main storage is in a secret room in our wine cellar, an old bunker from the war. I stumbled into it when I was thirteen-ish. I mean, you wouldn't believe everything they had down there. I haven't seen anything like it. Actual gallons upon gallons of morphling, other addictive crap that'll ruin your life, even weed." You giggle, sitting back again to gesture with your hand how big everything is.

Coriolanus can feel his eyes going wide at your confession, and he stammers. "I- wow, uh..."

"Come on," You chuckle, tilting your head at him like it was obvious. "Doctors don't have that much power unless they're a game maker Like Gaul, or have that money to start. They make money, sure, but not like that."

"Well," He swallows, nodding slightly at the intake of information. "That explains you being able to walk all over Highbottom for so long." He chuckles. It all makes so much sense now, how both you and Highbottom have a seemingly endless supply of morphling on you, and your father had a decently sized sought-after medical practice, but nothing that could add up to the amount of power and influence he possessed back home. "And the weed you brought to Livia's seventeenth birthday party."

You laugh. "No one even knew what to do with it- we were all so damn sheltered." You hum, matching his smile. "Still, don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." He shakes his head.

"You sure? Because last I recall, you did snitch on me, Snow. And frame me, if I’m remembering correctly…"

Coryo sighs. "I know, I know... But I did mean what I said. I just- it was stupid, but I thought I could protect you. Genuinely."

You don't seem mad anymore, just smiling at him. "I know." You say, voice so sickly sweet and soft in a way he had only ever heard from you once before; when he was on the verge of a panic attack in the arena. You had told him that soon it would all be over, simultaneously you were right but you also couldn't have been more wrong.

You needed him to believe all was forgiven, and the small look of satisfaction on his face proves to you that it has worked. From here, the games were back on.

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i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just can't tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

#tbosas #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #the hunger games #thg series #thg #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction

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blainesebastian · 9 months

Text

something real

words: 13,045 ship: austin butler x female reader rating: SFW except for one explicit scene summary: i took inspo from a request about fake!dating for a wedding and from another film with a similar premise. what else do you do when your ex is getting married? hire a fake date notes: feel free to visit my austin masterlist warnings: none, but check the rating. tag list: @austinbutlermischief, @killerqueenfan, @stylespresleyhearted,

“You’re losing it.”

A short laugh escapes your lips because god, maybe you are. This all started out easily enough—you needed a date for your ex’s wedding. Right, the fact that you were even invited kind of drives you crazy. It’s not like you didn’t have a good relationship with Todd, you did? But it also doesn’t change the fact how things ended—he ‘meant’ to break things off with you but started seeing someone at the same time. Claire. The girl he’s marrying. But you’re not about to go through life with grudges and anger when you can just let things go.

Which is why you’ve entertained this wedding invitation in the first place?

But to go alone? That’s a fate worse than death.

Which, ironically, is exactly what your friend, Jill, is telling you you’re going to be with this idea you’ve come up with.

“It’s all perfectly safe.” You mutter, sliding onto a bar stool and turning to look at her. You’re wearing a light blue dress, pair of booties, and jean jacket. Just casual enough but also hinting you’ve got a figure to show off if you really wanted to.

She scoffs, “Yeah, that’s what everyone says before they end up on 60 Minutes.”

You can’t help but smile, tugging the file out of your course before setting it on the bar top. “Do you want me to explain it again?”

Jill puts her hands on her hips—as if that will somehow make her comfortable with all of this, but she’s not protesting either. So you open up the file and—

“So my neighbor’s used this service before to go to her high school reunion, you know, so she didn’t end up there alone. She went onto their online platform, filled out a survey and bam, she was matched with someone to go.”

Jill narrows her eyes, “For twenty thousand dollars.”

“Well it’s not charity,” You throw back, “I’ve done the research, there’s a ton of reviews—all positive. It’s not like it’s about sex or anything, it’s just…companionship for one event.”

Jill looks at the file, crinkling her nose, “There’s so many other ways you could have done this—Rick, the guy in 6B? He’s always thought you were cute.”

You laugh a little, “If I go out with Rick, there is a good chance I’ll end up missing some limbs—dude is creepy, Jill.”

Her friend rolls her eyes but it’s fond, opening up the file and pointing to a blank spot where this guy’s photo should be, “Okay, but you don’t even get to know what he looks like?”

“I think it was my Wi-Fi,” You state honestly, “Some of the images weren’t loading. But that’s why you’re here,” You grin, “Safety measures. So—” You gently push on one of her hips, “Go find a table, order a drink while I wait for Austin.”

“That’s the gigolo’s name?”

“Wedding date,” You correct, shooing her away until she heads to a table.

Taking a breath, you look at the reflective surface of the bar mirror in front of you, mentally praying that this somehow not a huge mistake and order a drink.

Chewing on the drunken cherry in your Manhattan, you glance down the bar as you see someone handsome talking to a small group of women. You wonder if that’s Austin, looking for you—he’s about ten minutes late. Your stomach clenches anxiously, knowing that maybe Jill was right and this is utterly ridiculous. But…you got invited to the wedding late (either it was a last-minute thought or it got lost in the mail) but there was no way you could organically find someone to ask.

Sure, you could have brought Jill or some other friend but…deep down? You know this is about making Todd feel utterly stupid for cheating on you, for leaving you for someone else. You don’t want him back, of course, but that feeling of satisfaction? That look on his face when he sees you with someone else? You want it.

You can’t not go and you can’t find someone random in your life already to go with…so when your neighbor mentioned this quick fix? How could you not look into it? You’ve got a ton of money saved from over the years, not to mention a small investment your grandfather put in your name. What’s the harm in looking into this, right?

“Y/N?”

Turning on the bar stool, you nearly swallow your own tongue as you’re met face to face with who you assume is Austin. And joke’s on you because he’s ten times more beautiful than the other guy at the bar you saw talking to those women. He’s tall, lean, in a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket. Easily handsome, like…James Dean or Elvis Presley. Doesn’t have to try very hard.

And suddenly something hysterical crawls up your throat as he takes a seat next to you, introduces himself as Austin, and apologizes for being late because of traffic because—

“I’m sorry—” You interrupt, shaking your head, “This uh, this isn’t going to work.”

His eyebrows draw together in confusion, his mouth opening and closing, “Excuse me?”

“You’re,” You laugh lightly, cheeks heating up. There’s this sickly sensation gripping your stomach, telling you to run, “No one is going to believe that we’re dating.”

And maybe that’s something oddly pathetic you shouldn’t have uttered outloud because what’s even worse, Austin seems to grip what you’re saying and his features soften. You do not want pity or sympathy, you’re just…stating a fact.

Austin takes in a soft breath and looks towards the bartender, ordering himself a beer, confusing you a little because you expected him to just…take off. There’s no money involved at this point, it’s a clean break. This meeting is just to discuss details.

“I think you’re underestimating yourself,” He states gently, eyes sweeping over your form. And god, he’s good, isn’t he? You suppose this is his job, making women feel good. Confident. Even though it’s all a lie.

Letting out a breath as his drink is set down on the bar, you figure there’s no harm in…talking with him, right? He came all this way; you can at least wait until he finishes his beer to turn him down. You’ll just go to this damn wedding alone—it’s really not that big of a deal, right?

Austin takes off his leather jacket, hanging it up on a hook underneath the bar and he smells amazing—some sort of cologne that’s fresh and almost citrusy. You run a hand through your hair and order another Manhattan.

“So your request said a wedding?”

“My ex,” You clarify, “And I don’t want him back, or anything, I just want him to feel like an idiot.”

Austin smiles a little, humming— “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard. I’m assumin’ he already is one.”

A small laugh stutters forward in your chest because yes, he is. Your shoulders start to relax just a little because maybe Austin gets it. By not going or going alone you…you don’t want Todd to think that he’s somehow gotten one over you, that you’re lonely or broken ever since you’ve separated.

“Have you…done weddings before?”

He shifts a little on the barstool so that he’s facing you a little easier, “I’ve done weddings the most,” He admits, “Two high school reunions, one funeral.”

You raise your eyebrows, setting your drink down on the bar. “A funeral?”

Austin shrugs lightly, “Some women just want a hand to hold on their hardest day, a shoulder to cry on. Someone to talk to.” He licks his lips, taking a sip of his beer, “I’m not one to judge.”

You straighten your shoulders and…you suppose you’re really not in a position to do that either, given you’re here to hire Austin so you feel less alone and pathetic at a wedding. You take a long look at him for a moment, —curious. He doesn’t want to be doing anything else?

“Can I ask—why are you doing this?” Your fingers trace shapes into the condensation on your glass. “This whole fake-date program?”

Austin clears his throat, “You can ask me whatever you want,” He starts and that within itself seems like a dangerous proposition. “I work at this café near here but uh, it doesn’t exactly bring a lot of money in. I want to be an actor, like…a serious one, the money I get from these dates I’m savin’ up to go to L.A.”

And he essentially gets to pretend to be someone he’s not. Like an endless list of auditions.

There are other things you want to ask, other questions stuck in your throat about doing weddings. Why weddings? The whole concept seems like a bad idea—a high school reunion, a holiday party, even a funeral makes more sense, doesn’t it?

Those aren’t emotionally connected events, there’s no…opportunities to fall into something deeper than what the contract of attachment allows. But weddings? It’s about love and finding your person and…going to one with someone else feels like such a slippery slope.

Or maybe it doesn’t because Austin is a professional.

“So if I…if we do this, what does it entail, exactly?” You take another sip of your drink, as if you need the liquid courage for his response.

A small smile graces his handsome face again, “Don’t overthink it. It’s whatever you want, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You feel like there’s this heat uncoiling in your belly even though he’s not suggesting anything. Somehow, it’s in the ocean blue of his eyes—a depth there. You clear your throat, “You mean uh—if I require a dance partner? Because I love to dance at weddings…usually badly.”

Austin laughs warmly but shakes his head. “I meant if I was goin’ as your date or a boyfriend.”

And oh, of course, you hadn’t even thought about it but of course Austin would want a more specific role to sink his teeth into and your mind spins about what you want to do. It’s just one night, one silly wedding, there’s no long con here. It’s not like Todd will even care who you show up with, right? You’re the one who wants to feel less lonely—

And yet—

“You can think about it, if you need to—”

“Boyfriend.” You say, cutting him off. Heat returns to your cheeks…mise well go big or go home, right? If you’re going to do this? This has got to be a bad idea, right?

“Okay,” Austin smiles, “Good.”

So it’s settled that he’ll meet you at your place beforehand, you’ll iron out details of your relationship in case anyone asks and then you’ll go to the wedding together.

Austin stands and he tosses some cash on the bar counter (enough to cover your drink as well) and he hovers for a moment, tugging on his leather jacket. “My number’s in the file, in case you need it.”

Then there’s a moment where Austin watches you, fixing the lapels of his jacket. His one hand then rests on the bar, taking a step closer to you, and the way that you’re seated, your legs open just slightly to accommodate his body in your space.

“Don’t hit me, alright?” He smiles a little, leaning down, and honestly you’re the one that feels like you’re getting sucker punched in the stomach. Air right out of your lungs. “It was nice meeting you.”

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as your eyes flutter to his lips, “Yeah, you too.”

There’s more than enough time for you to pull away, but you don’t, so he kisses you.

It’s nothing obscene, but slow and gentle. Warm. Just enough to make your heart pound against your ribcage, electricity singing in your veins. You suppose it’s something you should get used to if Austin is going to pass as your boyfriend.

You raise your eyebrows a little as he pulls away, hot under the collar of your jean jacket.

“Figure we’d just get that out of the way so you could concentrate.” He teases and god, your mind is spinning. You kinda hate that he’s made you feel like this so easily, like somehow it’s second nature.

“What, that doesn’t cost extra?” You manage to throw out there, finding your voice.

Austin grins, another soft laugh rumbling in his chest. “I’ll see you soon.”

You let out a slow breath, running a hand over your hair as you watch him walk out of the bar before downing the rest of your drink.

“So that’s your date, huh?” Jill asks as she comes up behind you—honestly her voice kinda sounds like cotton in your ears. “Todd is gonna swallow his own tongue.”

And you can’t help but grin.

You meet one more time before the wedding, just…something to solidify that you do, in fact, know what you’re doing. But also to get a bit more comfortable around Austin and the fact that he’s going to be your boyfriend. You let out a slow breath, aggravated by how crazy that sounds. Maybe Jill’s right, maybe this is a bad idea (despite how handsome and charming Austin is).

He’s picked you up to go somewhere but won’t tell you where. And when the engine turns off, you undo your seatbelt and look out the windshield, “A custard house?”

“Was hopin’ you could go for somethin’ sweet,” Austin smiles a little, “They make these waffle custard sandwiches that’ll change your life.”

You hum lightly and start to get out of the car, a little confused because…well, you’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this. “We’re here for ice cream sandwiches?”

Austin scrunches his nose in mock offense at her flippant description, “No, we’re here for waffle custard. You need to work on listenin’, come on.” He gets out of the car too and locks the doors.

You know you’re about to paying Austin a decent amount of money to be your stand-in date, your fake boyfriend, dragging him to this wedding for god knows what reasons make sense in your head but…you suppose you didn’t count on him being like this. A tiny bit thoughtful, sweet, funny even.

Or maybe he’s already a decent actor.

You follow him to the counter, your eyes trailing over at least thirty different custard flavors—not only that, but there’s twice as many toppings. How are you supposed to choose?

“You know what you want already?” You ask as Austin rolls up the sleeves of his jean jacket a little.

“I always know what I want.” He leans on the counter, turning towards the woman at the register to order French vanilla—but stops when you make a noise. He looks at you over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Somethin’ you wanna share?”

You purse your lips and rocks back onto your heels, shaking your head, “No I just…vanilla, really? You don’t seem like the type.” She teases.

Austin smirks, straightening his back. “Oh, huh.” He motions to the large display menu. “Put your money where your mouth is, baby. What should I order?”

You let the pet name slide (and it does, like heated molasses right down in your veins), which is probably a dangerous slippery slope, but you’re too busy trying to take in a custard selection at the moment to care. You chew on your lower lip, slipping through the flavors written in chalk on the board and decides to go with your favorite pairing—

“He’ll have chocolate and strawberry custard in that waffle sandwich thing with…” You hum, “Caramel sauce and chocolate sprinkles.” You smile, clearly happy with your selection before ordering the same for yourself…except you also get chocolate sauce and whipped cream.

Because why the hell not?

“You’re gonna have that all over you before the night is over.” Austin motions to the dripping mess in your hands, carefully shelled between fresh waffles wrapped up in foil.

You slide yourself onto the hood of Austin’s car, almost sliding back down but managing to lean against the windshield before losing your custard sandwich.

“Challenge accepted.”

Austin smiles a little, sitting down next to you, looking far too handsome sprawled out on his car.

You realize that everything between you both is so dangerous, wrapped in gentle dynamite, the softest breath or touch capable of explosion. But it’s also tantalizing in a way that excites you—Austin is different, gentle but rough with the walls he keeps up.

Everything about this is a lie –circles in your head, over and over, trying to remind you not to take anything too seriously. And yet? You bury it deep with a bite of your custard sandwich. You moan softly and lick chocolate off your lips because Jesus, this is incredible.

Austin smirks, licking custard between the waffle before he takes a bite of his own. “Told you it was worth the stop.”

“I’m not going to admit you somehow know all just because you have decent taste in custard.” You smile and takes another bite of your waffle sandwich, leaning back to watch cars drive by.

“Give it time.” Austin glances over and you can feel his gaze, always like a magnet tracing the curves of your body. You want to tell him that you enjoy when he looks at you like that, to be felt and seen all at the same time, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

You wonder if he looks at every woman who’s ever paid him like that.

You’re not sure you want to know.

You turn and meet his gaze, holding it for a moment before a small smile graces your lips. “Do you really work at a café?”

He nods, leaning further up against the windshield. “It’s called Mug Half Full; been there about three years.” He licks his lips, pulling a napkin from his pants pocket and wiping his chin where he feels caramel sticking. “What do you do? You didn’t mention it in your email.”

You swallow down a bought of self-loathing at the question and decide to take another bite of your sandwich; sweet hiding sour. “I uh, I’m kinda in-between jobs at the moment.” You know Austin has to be able to see through that terrible excuse of an answer. “I’m currently getting an online degree in education.”

Austin finishes his custard waffle, which is admirable because yours is two seconds away from becoming soup in your hands. You lick at the sides as he crumples up a napkin and puts his trash in a can nearby so it’s not in either of your way.

“What do you want to do?”

The question shouldn’t offend you as much as it does, the want and need to defend yourself raising your hackles a bit. You bite down on reacting too sorely; he’s just asking a question—and you realize you haven’t given him a reason not to ask something like that. Your bland response is what prompts the statement.

You suppose you’re just…too used to people asking that, especially since society makes you feel like you somehow got a late start in figuring things out. In reality, it’s never too early or too late to be whoever you want. You’re just…getting to that.

You clear your throat, setting your custard sandwich down on your lap a moment, the foil protecting your clothes. “I have no idea,” You admit with a soft laugh, “My relationship with my ex kinda took all my energy—supporting whatever he needed, you know? Now I’m just starting to figure myself out.” And you’re proud of that progress, even though it feels like pushing a boulder up a hill sometimes. “I might teach maybe, one day.”

He holds your gaze for a moment, slight amusement dancing in the corners of his eyes. He smiles gently, looking down at your hands before he picks up your sandwich and licks whipped cream off the corner. Ridiculously obscene and unnecessary but you let him do it anyways.

You have apparently become accustomed to sharing things—you’ve noticed that he continues the ruse of soft touches and intimate gestures when no one’s watching. You think it’s to help solidify the fact that you’re supposed to be dating, supposed to be into one another. Which isn’t very hard when he does things like that with his tongue.

Austin tosses your trash like he did with his own before turning to look at you, handing you a napkin to wipe your hands off. “I could tell you wanted more. And you know, there’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

Then why does it feel so guilty for you to admit— “Sometimes it feels selfish, to want things for myself.” You swallow, letting it sink into the air. You’ve never told anyone that before, not even your best friend or your parents.

“Sounds like someone really selfish made you feel that way.” He says gently and it’s like…wool has been taken off your eyes. Something you maybe knew but needed to hear.

It’s not what you expect him to say, not in the slightest, but it warms you from the inside out either way. You nod because yes, you’ve never thought about it like that but yes, that’s it exactly. Realizing that taking care of yourself is one of the best things you can do—knowing yourself and that you deserve to want, that it’s normal, even.

Austin hums softly, moving to slip off the car. You swing your legs around and when he offers you his hand, you take it to slide off as well.

How easy it would be to lean up and kiss him, how he’d probably taste like hints of chocolate and strawberry. You wait for him to let you go, for his hand to stop holding yours. But he doesn’t.

You lick your own lips, your eyes looking to his lower one, how it pouts out gently when he looks at you—and you decide to stop waiting for things you want. If you’re going to pay for his company, you might as well enjoy it.

You press your lips into his own, capturing something sweet, lips moving together like you both were always made to kiss. Austin’s one hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your hair back around your ear before eventually pulling back. You’re breathing a little shakily, your noses brushing, Austin taking his time to trace your cheekbone with his lips before he opens up the car door for you.

“You’re not charging me extra for the gentleman treatment, are you?” Or for the kisses I keep stealing?

Austin smiles, a soft laugh leaving his throat as he waits for you to put your seatbelt on. “Not yet.” And closes the door with a wink.

You think about canceling six times between when you wake up on the day of the wedding to the moment you slide your dress over your head. You’ve told yourself that this was and continues to be a terrible idea and if you hadn’t paid him half up front through a cash app, you’d have the nerve to tell him never mind. Kisses and all, you really feel like you’re starting to lose your damn mind.

Though you know even if you told Austin to forget the whole thing, you still have to go to this wedding. (You could probably skip it no big deal, but the last thing you want is Todd to assume you’re bothered either). Canceling now would definitely mean going alone and you can’t stomach it, not when you feel like all of your insides are already in knots.

You smooth your hands down the front of your dress as you hear the doorbell, taking the steps downstairs carefully in your gold heels. You’ve settled for a navy-blue number that shows just enough cleavage and is ruffled at your middle, hugging curves and kissing your skin beautifully. You feel confident and comfortable, which is important for a long night.

You sigh, glancing at your front door for a moment before turning the knob and opening up to see Austin. He’s standing in a suit, beautifully polished, hair perfectly coifed on his head. A navy button-down underneath a gray suit jacket, tie to match with a red spidery design that reminds you of tree branches in the winter.

A crinkle appears between Austin’s eyebrows because, “Why are you shakin’ your head?” He asks as he steps over the threshold and you close the door.

“I just naturally assumed you were going to show up in black. Black in your profile picture that finally loaded, black at the bar… I thought that was the only shade you owned.”

He runs a hand lightly over his chest. “Grays in the same shade family.” He’s joking but you’re not laughing and finally he just throws his hands up a little, “What’s the big deal?”

“Because we match.”

Austin looks down at himself and pauses, doesn’t get it, gives you a look that makes you feel a little crazy. “That a bad thing?”

“It’s—” No, it’s not exactly a terrible idea but it somehow digs under your skin because you want today to be perfect and Austin is supposed to be your boyfriend and you can’t be that couple that goes all matchy-matchy to events, right?

What are the odds that he shows up in something that is the exact same color as your damn dress?

“It’s too perfect, it’s not believable.” You say and he raises his eyebrows because that does not make one lick of sense. He takes a step towards you and you mirror one back, shaking your head.

Austin lets out a slow breath because you’re nitpicking and it annoys him, a flare of impatience decorating his handsome face. “Well I don’t exactly got another suit in my back pocket and we’re already late.”

You narrows your eyes, “Just…follow me. I’ll change.”

You’re up the stairs and in your bedroom before you realize what you’ve said, Austin slipping in behind you and looking around the room, drinking you in with permission you’ve accidently given him. You turn suddenly and slip off your heels, pressing one hand to his chest to stop him.

“Don’t move.”

He smiles a little and nods his head, sticking his hands in his pockets as he watches you slide into your walk-in closet to change. You sigh softly and run a hand over your forehead before you take a moment to unzip your dress and glance at your options.

“A lot of beige.”

You roll your eyes and pull out a black dress, quickly pulling it on and kicking your navy blue one to the side before stepping out of your closet. You don’t bother to zip it up until you make sure it’s the right one.

Austin has dutifully not moved from the spot on the carpet where you’ve left him and he scrunches his nose at your dress, “You goin’ to a wake?”

“What’s wrong with beige?” You glance around your bedroom; at the little accents you’ve added that have color to them. Some shades of coffee colored brown and touches of teal here and there. It’s minimalist but tasteful.

“It’s just not what I pictured.”

“You pictured my bedroom?” You ask, but the corners of your mouth pull slightly as you put your hands on your hips.

Austin tilts his head at you, eyes traveling over your body in an unashamed way. “Maybe.” He pauses for a moment to let that sink into your pores. “You don’t seem like a beige. Also, no to that dress. I can maybe get you not wantin’ to match completely but that doesn’t line up with what I got on at all.”

You nod and turn to go back into your closet, pulling the dress off and standing far too long in your underwear trying to decide on a color range. You could go gold…but that feels too flashy, gray is out of the question and so is another navy dress so…

You finger red fabric for a moment that matches the scarlet on Austin’s tie and pull it off the hanger.

“I’m not actually that fond of beige,” You admit over your shoulder as you pull the dress up—it’s a fit and flare that kind of reminds you of the sixties. Something that hugs your waist with a high-neck tanked top and flares out like a wide flame at the bottom. It hits just below your knees and your gold heels will still go nicely with it.

“But the house kinda came this way and…I never took the time to fix it.” You walk out of the closet, pulling your hair free from underneath. “Todd didn’t like bold colors anyways.”

Austin’s eyes descend on you like a cold rush of water, a wave crashing down onto your shores. He stares for what feels like a long time, his hands coming out of his pockets like he wants to touch but can’t—too far away. You smile softly as his gaze sticks, he’s captivated by the dress, and you notice he has to shake his head as you approach to be able to speak to you.

“So I’m guessin’ he’s not gonna like this.” He reaches to touch your waist, fingers pressing warmly into the fabric.

You chew on the inside of your cheek a moment, looking up at him. “Do you like it?”

He smirks gently, pulling on your elbow to turn you around. He doesn’t reply but you feel suddenly naked under his gaze as your bare back is exposed to him. He takes his time finding the zipper and slowly draws it up into place, fixing the little hook at the top. His hands rest against your shoulders and guide down, squeezing your arms before letting you go.

“Get your shoes. We’re already late.”

You let out a long sigh that somehow turns into a pout, making him smile, “We could stay here, you could give more wisecracks about my bedroom decorum.”

Austin smirks and grabs your purse from where it’s seated on the bed as you slip your heels back on. “As amazing as that sounds, that’s not what you’re payin’ me for.”

And the words sound sour, swallowing them down, nodding your head as you leave the bedroom with him.

The wedding itself isn’t actually terrible—it’s beautiful in a way that would make any woman envious. Lots of flowers and gold designs and as you watch the entire ceremony take place, you have moments where you wonder why you’re here. Was it really that important for you to show up? And not only that, but pay a date to be here? You keep going back and forth, like a serious game of tug-of-war.

Why did it matter if you showed up alone? Or with Jill?

Austin helps you with your coat, his hand on your lower back as you walk out of the church and towards the reception hall which is being held in this beautiful botanical garden that has rooms you can rent for things like this.

People begin to pile into the building, pausing at the coat check before heading into the reception all, and it’s right there that you suddenly feel like bolting. Truth is? Todd was your boyfriend for years before your breakup (a breakup that might have never happened if you hadn’t realized he was cheating, because clearly he hadn’t taken the initiative until it was too late). And it’s probably so stupid that you remained friends with him, that you were invited to this wedding, that you for some reason care about what he thinks—even now.

But you do.

You should have just moved on and thrown the wedding invitation in the trash but…feelings don’t always come in black and white. You constantly live in a shade of gray.

And you’re worried someone is going to see right through you tonight.

Austin squeezes your hand, getting your attention as you remain grounded by the coat check. He’s patient, waiting until your gaze meets his own. “You’re shakin’.” His other hand covers the one he’s already holding.

You nod your head and offer a smile you don’t feel. “I thought this would be easy. Having you here as a distraction, smiling at all the right times and drinking too much wine in a nice dress,” You shrug your one shoulder, “It doesn’t change how I feel.”

Despite the small amount of privacy the coat check wall provides, you can feel eyes on you two from different parts of the room; people slipping past to get a glass of champagne from the cash bar, fluttering in-between hors d'oeuvres tables and congratulating the couple. Guests who know who you are, who are whispering about you. You can hear Todd a few feet away; big laughs and too loud discussions that tell you he’s a little drunk but genuinely happy.

Or maybe this is all in your head.

“Look, I think you were gonna feel this way no matter if you came alone or with someone.” He runs his thumb over your knuckles. “But you can still do all the other things you mentioned,” Austin leans in, brushes his lips over your cheekbone as he talks, “Drink too much wine in a beautiful dress and smilin’ definitely doesn’t hurt.”

He pulls back and you lick your lips, wanting nothing more than to lean up and kiss him again. To feel his arms wrap around you and pull you close, back outside, to his car, away from this place where you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.

Austin grasps your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, waiting until your eyes meets his own again. He leans forward to brush your lips together, gently, more to distract you than anything else because it’s not a kiss.

“Women hire me because they want to feel wanted and if that’s what you need to hear, then fine, I do want you, Y/N.” You let out a breath that sounds too shaky for your own good, your knees slightly buckling. All the other gazes you once felt on you fade away, until it’s only you and Austin in an empty botanical garden.

“But hearin’ that doesn’t matter until you want things for yourself. You want someone to believe in you? You want to feel confident? Wanted?” His hand falls to your waist, “Good enough?”

You swallow thickly, his words reaching something that’s still raw inside of you, that still hurts to think about. You want to pull away, nearly do, but instead surrender to his weight against you. It’s not his fault that he does a better job of reading you than you do looking in a mirror.

“Then it has to come from you first.”

You shake your head as he pulls away, his hand very simply returning to yours as you both move towards the cash bar. “I know you think you know me from a few meetings and a detailed email request. But you don’t.” Your words at least sound stronger than you feel.

Austin looks at you over his shoulder and smiles but says nothing in return.

Maybe the problem is, he does know you, even from the simplest interactions. Maybe you’re just not used to being seen. Todd never saw you, even when you gave him so many chances to try. You suppose at that point you need to want to try.

You’re seated at a table that has mostly co-workers and friends and you attempt not to cringe when someone asks you how you know the bride and groom. Austin swoops in and responds that they’re friends, his arm stretched out over the back of your chair. You’re grateful because the words we dated are sitting in your throat like a lump, difficult to swallow over.

The night spins forward, you’re able to avoid the bride and groom for the duration of it, just enjoying food and a little bit too much wine and hanging out with Austin. There are long conversations where you get to know one another, fill one another in about things that are real, beyond the layers of this fake-date situation.

It’s nice, seeing him in that light, getting to know him as if you’d bumped into him at a bar and enjoyed his company.

You almost wish that was the case, instead.

His arm squeezes around your waist as you both dance on the dance floor, his jacket on the back of his chair, dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. You’re definitely a little tipsy, the room is rose-colored, but all in all? It feels like a crisis has been avoided, you’re actually having a good time.

“Can I get you another glass of wine?” Austin asks, brushing his lips over your forehead, “Maybe some cookies from the dessert table?”

You grin, “You know me so well.” And it’s not a line, somehow, you’ve been craving cookies for the past half hour.

Austin smiles, nods, squeezes your waist and leaves you to do just that. You somehow ache with missing the heat of his body once he’s gone—and that’s how you know you’re slightly in over your head. You have to keep reminding yourself that none of this is real—the way Austin talks to you or looks at you, the way his hands travel over your body, the slight brush of his lips against your own.

It's all a lie.

A lie that you paid for.

Running a hand over your forehead, you turn and nearly bump into someone, blinking as you look up and—

“Todd.”

Your ex smiles, “Hey—I’m so glad you came, I wasn’t sure if you would.”

Neither was I, “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” Chewing on your lower lip, you’re struck with being unsure of what to say, scanning the crowd for Austin before clearing your throat, “Uhm, everything has been beautiful.”

Todd smiles, nodding, taking a look around for his bride. “Thank you. Are you uh, here with Jill?”

You open and close your mouth like a goldfish until you feel that familiar arm slide around you. “No this is Austin,” You take the glass of wine and have a hearty sip and it instantly makes your head spin.

Todd clears his throat and even though he’s smiling, it’s clear he’s giving Austin a once-over. He did not expect you to be here with someone. “I didn’t know you were bringing a friend that wasn’t Jill.” He kinda laughs, like maybe it’s a joke that you don’t have many other close friends other than her.

But Austin is quick to smile, “Actually, I’m her boyfriend.”

And there it is, the look on Todd’s face that you were after this whole time. It’s quick, gone almost as soon as it appears, but lingers in his eyes. Regret, maybe even jealousy. Even though his wife appears by his side and introductions are exchanged.

Luckily the conversation doesn’t last very long, the bride and groom are swept towards other people, more dancing. Which is good because you’re pretty sure you noticed that the bride couldn’t keep her eyes off of Austin.

What a couple her and Todd make.

Downing the rest of the wine, you set it on the table, letting out a slow breath. Austin keeps his hands firm on your hips and you can’t quite meet his eyes. You’re not quite sure how…this wasn’t what you expected, nor wanted.

Just feels like a big mistake.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks quietly, seeming to read your mind.

You nod and he keeps his arm around you until you make it outside and reach his car.

That last glass of wine did you zero favors and by the time you make it to your front door, you’re dropping your keys instead of sliding them into the lock. Austin smiles a little, picking them up and unlocking everything, pushing the door open. You’ve got a firm hand on his shirt because you’re swaying slightly, almost a little afraid of what might happen if you let go.

What if all of this is one weird dream?

“Where are we going?” You ask as he comes inside, closing the door behind him.

“Water n’bed.” Austin replies as he guides you into the living room.

You scrunch your nose and look to the ceiling, definitely knocking yourself off balance as the room spins. Austin lets out a short grunt as he catches you, steadying you against his chest.

“In that order? That’s so boring.”

He chuckles slightly, guiding you both until he has you in front of the couch, encouraging you to sit. “You got somethin’ else you’d rather do?”

You can’t help but grin at the question, poking at his chest. “I think you know what I’d rather like to do.” It’s like hot lava pouring from your lips, you can’t seem to stop it even though you know you’ll have burns later.

Austin hums under his breath but doesn’t respond, concentrates instead on keeping you on the couch once you’re seated.

“Stay there,” He says when you try to get up, holding onto your shoulders and pressing you gently down. “You good or you gonna slip off?” There’s an amused smile pulling handsomely at his lips as he tilts his head down to look at you, slipping his thumb and forefinger along your chin.

“Good, I’m so good.” You nod, determined to give him responses that make sense. You just wish the room would stop spinning.

Only when he feels like you mean it does he pull away from you. You closes your eyes as your fingers grip the cushion, trying to hold yourself in place. None of this really helps and instead you just end up feeling nauseas, forcing your eyes to open so you can see Austin.

He’s taken his jacket off, tie gone and shirt unbuttoned a bit, and seeing his chest and forearms makes heat unwantedly pool between your legs and you lick your lips, trying to focus on what he has in his hands.

“He…he honestly didn’t think I’d be there with anyone.”

A crinkle appears between Austin’s eyebrows and he pauses, “What?”

You swallow, not sure if your trail of thought makes sense. “Todd. Jerk.” You give as an explanation.

Something passes over Austin’s face but it’s gone as soon as it appears and he crouches in front of you, his one hand slipping over your knee a moment, “Do you actually care what he thinks?”

You hold his gaze for a long moment before shaking your head. He hums softly, squeezing, his thumb between your thighs and it’s really too distracting.

“Then fuck him; neither of those two seemed like they should be giving relationship advice.”

You giggle something ridiculous and cover your face with your hand a moment, glad you were able to make sense of all that even though you probably didn’t need to bring it up.

“You got anythin’ like a long t-shirt?” He changes the subject as he makes a motion to go upstairs. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to get pants on you.”

You huff out a sound and rub a hand over your face, most likely smearing makeup in the worst way. “That’s alright, I like bein’ pantless.” You reach over and is happy you don’t tumble, using one hand to hold onto his shoulder to get his attention. “Upstairs, first drawer on the right.”

He’s back and forth quickly; makes you wonder how long you’ve actually been sitting there.

Him undressing you is a blur; you note that he does his best to dip his gaze when he can to give you a little privacy. Just enough that you can figure out that your head doesn’t go into one of the arm holes and assists when you starts whining that you can’t get it right. You throw your wedding dress aside and kicks off your heels, letting out a soft huff when Austin disappears into the kitchen.

He comes back with a warm washcloth that smells like lilac soap and he waits until your gaze focuses on him before he asks whether you can do this yourself.

You nod a little absently, taking the washcloth from him and wiping your makeup off before handing it back to him. You pull as many bobbypins as you can find from your hair and toss them onto the coffee table, pulling your strands back up into a bun before collapsing face first into the couch.

You barely feel the couch dip as you smush your face into a pillow, blankets being draped over your shoulders.

When you wake up, you don’t automatically remember where you are.

You lift your head and groan softly, pinching your eyes with your thumb and forefinger trying to get the pounding to stop. There’s a soft blue light casting shadows on the walls of the living room and oh, that’s right, you’re home. Austin brought you home last night.

You swallow and nearly sit up too fast, leaning up on your elbows because oh, oh fuck, now you remember. A wave of nausea crashes down on you for moving and you flutter your eyes closed briefly and hope that helps. When you feels confident enough to fix your gaze on something other than the inside of your eyelids, you turn to look at Austin who’s sitting up in one of the lounge chairs nearby against a few pillows, watching TV.

He didn’t leave. He stayed with you the entire night.

The sound from the TV isn’t loud enough to be heard but you can tell he does this often, eyes on the screen, just absorbing the images that flicker to life. His head dips to look over at you when you move; he looks tired. You really hope he didn’t sit up to just…keep an eye on you, making sure you slept alright.

You clear your throat, the sound scratchy and dry regardless of your trying, “Am I dead?”

Austin smirks a little and stands to come and sit by your legs, handing you a glass of water that’s on the coffee table. “Here. You passed out before I could get you to drink any.”

You sigh softly and close your eyes, moving to sit up further and is glad to see the room isn’t spinning anymore. “Lovely.” You drink deeply after a few tentative sips to make sure you can keep it down.

“You stayed.”

“I did.” Austin’s quiet for a few moments, playing with the corners of one of the blankets. Clearly he’s not going to elaborate. “You got a headache?”

You hum an affirmative response but it’s nothing water and Advil can’t cure. You lean your head back against the headboard, closing your eyes again for a few moments to avoid the blue light spilling into the room from the TV. You give yourself some time to sip your water before you open them again, setting the glass down on the table. There’s cookies there too, from last night. Austin kept them.

You sense embarrassment licking at your nerve endings, feeling a little ridiculous for your behavior. You should really know better than to let yourself go like that, especially since it doesn’t take too many glasses of wine in a row for it to happen.

“Sober?” He asks and there’s a tilt to his voice that you don’t like, far too amused.

You groan and turn your head to look at him, trying to muster up a glare that doesn’t stick. “Unfortunately.” You rake your fingers through your hair, trying to not even think about what you might look like.

You’re just glad you didn’t vomit.

A deep breath settles in and out of your lungs before you turn your head to look at Austin, the light of the TV casting beautiful shadows on his face. Your eyes skitter over the scruff beginning on his jawline and your fingers itch to follow. You clear your throat, getting his attention, and he turns his head to look at you.

“I’m sorry for getting plastered.” You smile a little because he does; that same amusement back on his face, though it doesn’t bother you this time around. “I’m shocked that you do weddings.”

You allow yourself to laugh a little, shaking your head like it’ll somehow clear the fuzzy memories of him bringing you back to your home, tripping over yourself. You regret the way you’ve carried yourself, but a tiny part of you is glad you decided to let yourself go, to enjoy the open bar and let your emotions run a little rampant for once.

You’re so used to keeping everything inside, to holding it all in. For once you didn’t.

Austin’s chewing on words he’s not saying, you can see the hesitance in his expression, wanting to say something but unsure if he should. You wait, don’t press, and eventually,

“Admittedly, I haven’t done a wedding in a while.” He shakes his head, “Because they tend to be messy in a way that I never expect.”

You wince, rubbing the back of your neck because…clearly you hadn’t planned on making a fool out of yourself but Austin quickly continues to explain,

“I don’t mean you.” He turns a bit to lean against the couch, his shoulder pressed along the cushions. Austin licks his lips, his eyes tracing your jawline and lips, slipping down your neck and collarbone enough to make you shiver.

“In your request, you said somethin’ like, ‘I don’t want my ex to feel like he’s taken something from me. Something that’s mine and will always be mine’.”

You search his eyes for a moment and when his finally meet yours, something warm and aching starts in your chest, blooming outward like a flower only meant to grow at night. You swallow thickly, “You remember that?” Because you kinda…bared you soul in that request for a date service. You hadn’t meant to come across so desperate but…you were also just being honest.

“I have a very good memory,” He attempts to wave this off, and you want to tell him not to—that what he’s saying matters. Austin’s seeing you, over walls you didn’t realize you had up after all this time.

“You said kind of implied that you wanted Todd to regret cheating on you, but I think you really meant that you wanted him to see that he didn’t break you.” He licks his lips and trails his pinky finger along your jawline as he curls loose hair behind your ear. “I’ve met a lot of women in similar situations, and not all of them have handled it like you.”

A laugh slips out of your throat, something you can’t stop. You’re trying to break the tension gathering in the room, something heavy and thick like warm cotton settling over both of you. Handled it? You haven’t exactly done that well, have you? If last night is any indication.

“What, they didn’t hire a male escort and get piss drunk?”

He smiles gently, shaking his head. “They let their exes break them because they couldn’t figure out who they were without them.”

The warmth in your chest threatens to burst and you wish for a moment that you could see yourself the way Austin does, so clearly, like everything is laid out before him, all he has to do is read.

“But not you.” It barely leaves his mouth before you close the distance between them.

The heat erupts in a single kiss, both of Austin’s hands tangling themselves in your hair, pulling it loose from your haphazard bun. He kisses you like you’ve always wanted to be kissed, even though you hadn’t realized it was something that was missing until now.

He inches you forward, forcing you to move until you’re straddling his waist, blankets getting caught and tangled in-between. Anything that’s been building up suddenly releases into you both, like a wave crashing, heated breaths against skin and not being able to get close enough. Austin tugs off your long t-shirt and a shiver travels down your skin as you reach up and automatically unclasp your bra.

You sit there for a moment, almost in the wake of realizing what you’ve done, and you watch Austin’s gaze. His eyes drink you in, hands still on your waist, trailing up your sides, thumb slipping underneath one of your breasts to press against your ribcage. The touch is intimate enough to cause something sharp in your throat, thick swallowing for it to disappear. You lean forward, presses your foreheads together and you kiss again.

You’re fumbling to get blankets down, to move everything out of your way and Austin flips your positions, easing you down onto your back along the cushions. He rifles for something in his suit jacket that’s nearby while you slip your hips up to slide your underwear down and off and away. He’s got too many layers on and you itch to immediately remove his shirt when he’s overtop of you again.

Toned skin greets you and you can’t help but touch, sink your fingers in, drag your nails. The noises that leave Austin’s throat are enough to single handedly build the heat beginning in your lower belly, something you don’t think you ever want to stop hearing. He moves only long enough to take his pants off, tossing them to the side, and he holds your gaze—

He waits.

You swallow and know this is such a bad idea, that nothing good can come from this. But wasn’t it Austin who urged you to figure out what you want? You want to feel confident? Wanted? Good enough?

Then it has to come from you first.

There’s a half-nod in Austin’s direction before he’s slipping a hand down between you, to put a condom on but also—

You moan, rolling your hips as you feel his fingers slide against you, inside of you. He teases, rolls flesh between his thumb and forefinger, lips falling to your neck to leave kisses that eventually find your mouth again.

He takes his time even though you wish he wouldn’t, building you up and letting you down easy before pressing inside. You gasp and your back arches, hips rolling forward, Austin leaning down to capture your mouth again, to absorb your sounds. You wrap your legs around him, which makes moving a little difficult, but you don’t want him to move too far away, want to constantly feel him—keep you both connected.

Austin nips at your lower lip with his own, not taking you long to build up what you’ve started. Pleasure circles in your veins, pulling you towards an end that you doesn’t want to reach yet. He doesn’t stop, keeps moving his hips forward at a quickening pace and you dig your nails into his back.

You barely have time to warn him before you’re cumming, though because your bodies are molded together, you think he already knows—probably knew before you did. He grunts as he loses himself in you, his face falling to your neck, gentle panting and lazy kissing.

You tilt your head back so your throat is exposed, your hands slipping down his back and settling on his waist, his skin a little slick to the touch. He lays there for a long few moments and you take one another in, his chest pressing into your own as you both breathe.

He pulls back too soon for your liking, but you don’t have the energy to tell him to stop. Austin cleans himself up, slipping onto the couch again, this time behind you, and pulls you close. You turn on your side, blankets coming up over your shoulder as you puzzle-piece both of you together, your face hiding in his neck, already falling asleep.

Austin says nothing, which is fine with you, he doesn’t need to say anything. His lips find your shoulder, a few kisses here and there, hands intertwining in your hair.

You finally figure out what you want—

and you want this. You want him.

You wake up before Austin does, pulling yourself from the couch and disappearing into the bathroom near the kitchen. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you kinda shake your head before drawing up Jill’s text messages on your phone.

Y/N: I think I messed up.

You wash your face and feel a little more human, sitting down on the closed toilet seat as she pings you back.

Jill: oh no, what happened? Jill: please tell me Austin didn’t turn out to be a serial killer

You laugh, your hand covering your mouth. Jesus. A small, hysterical part of you wonders if that’d be easier to deal with.

Y/N: the wedding went fine, he brought me back home, stayed the night Y/N: may or may not have had sex with him on my couch this morning??

Jill instantly tries to call you and you press the red button—you can’t talk to her when he’s still here.

Y/N: I can’t, he’s still here

Jill: !!!!!! Jill: girl omg— Jill: how was it? 😉

Running a hand over your face, you wonder if you should have ever said anything. Then again, there’s this small smile tugging the corners of your mouth. In general, you know that there’s nothing wrong with what you’ve done—both of you are consenting adults. But then there’s this whole other layer of…paying him to be your date. It’s not like you paid him for sex or anything but…

You kinda can’t help but wonder how many jobs he takes that end up like this.

Y/N: it was perfect but that’s not the point

Jill: so what is the point?

You sigh softly, tapping on your cash app and just…wondering. So many insecurities and questions and wonderings wrapping around you like a blanket, except it’s far too tight, suffocating almost. Taking in a breath, you set your phone down on the counter, looking up when there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“Y/N?” Austin asks, “You alright?”

Reaching over to grasp the knob, you open the door with a soft smile, “Yeah.”

Austin looks ridiculously adorable slept on. His hair is slightly askew, skin looking warm, a soft, tired look in his eyes. God, you can’t believe he’s been here for so long in these wedding clothes, back in his slacks and a white undershirt.

“I uh,” He clears his throat, “M’gonna head home. Shower, change. But…”

You lick your lips, your stomach flip-flopping with eagerness.

“I was thinkin’ I could come back later; we could talk?”

God, talking sounds like such a great idea. Not to mention you could shower too, put yourself together, feel more like someone capable of having a serious conversation. So you nod with a soft smile—that sounds perfect.

And then—

You can pinpoint the exact moment that Austin glances to the sink and sees the cash app open because his expression changes, like a shadow passing over but instead of dissipating—it stays, darkening the color of his eyes. A breath catches in your throat as you straighten your shoulders, words on your lips and stuck on your tongue. Nothing comes out.

His gaze flickers up from the phone to your eyes and what you see there is like a cold bucket of ice water, anger but…deeper, it’s—

“Not what it looks like.” You finally say, breaking the tension into pieces with a hammer.

Austin hums, nodding his head and licking his lips. He’s trying very hard to speak without sounding annoyed, “What’s it like then?” He asks, the words daggered. “Cause it looks like you were about to pay me for services rendered.”

You shake your head and stand from the toilet on wobbly knees. Austin takes a step back from you, almost like a caged animal, getting ready to bolt. And then you realize, right, he’s not angry, he’s hurt.

“No—”

“Don’t lie to me,” He grounds out, the words chewed on between his teeth.

A shuddered noise leaves your lips because you can tell you’re losing it, this conversation slipping like sand between your fingers. He’s not going to be willing to listen to you if you confirm he’s right, that you had thought about it—if you admit you weren’t sure what you were doing or what sleeping together meant.

You distantly know that this isn’t going to end well, no matter what you say. Austin tore his walls down in front of you, exposed himself, and now he looks like a fool for doing it. Even if it’s on accident, you’ve hurt him, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to backpedal without looking guilty.

“I thought about it,” You admit after a moment. “I wasn’t…” The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel cheap; you know that this thing started as a transaction but also that something changed last night.

“Nah, it’s good. You were payin’ me to do a job, right?” Austin turns to walk back to the living room, gather up his things. And it’s like…you have no idea what you can possibly say, how you can stop him.

Your legs carry you forward, “Austin, don’t.” You sigh and puts a hand on your lips, suddenly feeling nauseas as he moves too quick for you to stop him.

“Business is business. You can stop feelin’ so guilty,” He straightens his shoulders before grabbing his jacket, slipping it on. Metaphorically it feels like a shield, another layer he’s building back up between them both, shutting you out.

He can’t possibly leave like this, right?

You’re practically stumbling over your own feet as he makes it to the front door, “Please don’t walk away.”

His hand pauses on the doorknob, just for a moment, like he might actually be considering your words. But then he yanks the door open and slams it shut once he’s outside.

You don’t go after him.

Time goes on.

You expect that Austin might reach out to you—to apologize, to start over, or maybe even request the unfulfilled payment that he was supposed to receive after the wedding date. But nothing, it’s radio silent…and you think that’s worse.

You want to reach out to him on your own, but you’re not even sure where to begin. How to apologize for thoughts that are incomplete in your head. How to express emotions that are sitting at the bottom of your ribcage.

You’re just hoping for a chance to apologize and explain yourself, even though you’re not entirely sure you deserve it. Is this really it? Going back to business as usual and pretend they never met one another?

You sigh as you hear a few knocks on your door and hate how it feels like hope, quickly moving from your kitchen to tug it open and see Jill on the other side. You give her a small smile, letting her inside,

“I got your twenty texts, you alright?”

You run a hand over your forehead and shake your head, moving towards the kitchen for Jill to follow. You offer her a cup of coffee, sitting back at the counter with your own. Wrapping your hands around the ceramic, you glance up at your friend,

“I screwed up.”

Jill sighs softly, grabbing a cup for the coffee because clearly, she’s going to need it. “Tell me what happened; your texts were all hysteria and no detail.”

You map out the whole thing from start to finish, the chapel, the reception, the night of, the morning after—your voice drops on intimate details, like somehow you have to keep them exactly that. Intimate.

“Damn, Y/N.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I know…it was an accident.” You swallow. “The money part, anyways.”

She adds a few spoonfuls of sugar to her mug, stirring. “Does tall, blonde and brooding know that?”

You let your hand fall from your face, eyes focusing out the window above the sink at the city sounds and sights. Suddenly a dark blue gaze rekindles in your memory, the hurt there, wounded and refusing to let you past his boundaries again.

“I tried to tell him; he wouldn’t listen.”

Jill hums under her breath a moment and shuffles, “Maybe give him some time? Try him tomorrow.”

Easier said than done, “I don’t even know where he lives. He’s not going to pick up the phone if I try to call him; texts are useless.”

Your friend’s quiet for a few moments, considering—and then a sound leaves her lips and you picture a lightbulb going off on her facial expression. “But you know where he works.”

You stand outside the café that Austin works at for what feels like a long time, staring at the sign and pacing back and forth to your car parked down the street. You really hope no one is watching you because you probably looks crazy; you feel crazy. You can’t just approach this man where he works, can you? You don’t even know if he’s working today.

But it’s…worth a try, right? Like one last shot before you just drop it.

You’re not sure that if the situations were reversed, he’d show up at your front door, so. Or maybe you’re just hoping he would.

So after spending ten minutes contemplating what to do, you finally force yourself to walk up the café door and make your way inside. It’s a hole in the wall but filled to the brim with people at tiny circular tables, waiting in line to place their order with a beautiful blonde cashier and satisfied customers adding sugar and creamer to their coffees at a station to your left.

The heady scent of fresh coffee and baked goods slam into you like a truck, leaving you almost breathless. This place blends in when it should stick out—she wonders if you didn’t know Austin if you’d come in to order an iced coffee just walking by on the street.

Your eyes graze behind the counter until you finally spot him further down, filling baked goods trays in a window that were once empty. A ton of questions hit you at once; did he make those baked goods that are at his fingertips? How does he separate the time between the café and the stand-in job? What are you going to say to him?

Before you can fully approach him, Austin glances up—and spots you.

He’s not happy to see you but he doesn’t look as pissed off as the last time you saw him, so, you consider that progress. You swallow as you walk towards the counter and your hand settles on the top of the glass, the lights above the pastries warming your palm.

“Hi.” That’s it? That’s all you can say? This conversation is going to be just as painful as the last one.

Austin doesn’t have a chance to open his mouth because another worker, a blonde girl, rushes to the counter because she must be on register, “Hi,” She smiles, bright, “We have orange scones on sale today. What can I get you?”

You smile gently at her, glancing at Austin and wondering if he’s going to step in or just…continue not saying anything to you. You suppose you don’t blame him.

“I’ll uhm, take a hazelnut latte and one of those scones,” You nod, reaching for your wallet in your purse, “Thank you.”

“I got the rest of this, Chloe,” Austin steps in as you stick your card into the reader. “Thanks.” He watches her go before turning his attention back to you, customers passing by and receiving orders that he’s already packed at the end of the counter. He hands over your receipt.

“You stalkin’ me now?” He asks but he’s not amused, drumming his fingers on top of the counter.

You let out a slow breath and he moves to fill your order, working the espresso machine with practiced ease, “You won’t text me back.”

“Maybe that’s cause I didn’t wanna talk to you,” He says pointedly before motioning towards your right, “You skipped the line.”

“I didn’t want to order anything, I just wanted to talk.”

He smirks but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes and he grabs an orange scone, wrapping it in a napkin. “Look at you, really learned how to be honest about what you want.”

“You taught me how.” You insist, trying to catch his gaze. When you finally do, you hold it there, trying to will him to listen to you—because you’re not grasping at straws, meeting him, spending time with him…being with him really taught you about parts of yourself that were missing.

Or maybe not missing, exactly, but lying dormant.

“I just want five minutes of your time, please, then I’ll leave you won’t hear from me again.”

Austin lets out a long patient sigh with a shake of his head, something between aggravation mixed with a touch of being impressed—you’re persistent, at least. He’s going to hear you out and suddenly all the words mix in a blender and sink to the bottom of your ribs; you’re almost unsure of how to put this but all you can do is try.

“You’ve been right since we first met; I didn’t know how to want things for myself even though I expected so much out of other people.”

You chew on your lower lip a moment, eyes tracing over the handsome lines of his face—now was not the time to get distracted.

“This whole thing caught me off guard, I wasn’t prepared to want you…and not just as my stand-in date, but you.”

He doesn’t hold your gaze and maybe that’s okay, he busies himself with getting other people orders, keeping the line moving but you can tell he’s still listening to you. He’s still intent on hearing you through…even though you’re almost certain it’s not going to make a difference.

You can tell by his expression, by those walls remaining firm; they’re not budging for you.

Not again.

“The money thing was a mistake. You were right, I did open up my app and think about it because I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what this thing was or if I was…imaging how I felt. So I fucked up but…so did you for not sticking around and talking to me.”

Austin’s shoulders straighten; he doesn’t appreciate you calling him out. A rod appears up his spine, his posture almost towering despite the glass case between them.

“I just…that’s it,” You swallow, your thumb running over the scone in your one hand and picking up your finished latte with another. “That’s all I wanted to say. Sorry for disrupting your work.”

You turn quickly, can’t take the look in his eyes anymore, the bustle of other people around you. You’ve said what you needed to—you should feel more complete than before, right? Because at least he knows your side of things.

It’s his turn.

You push the door open, the welcome bell dinging after you as you leave.

He doesn’t come after you.

You try to shake your head as Jill orders another shot, but can’t quite stop her because the woman has a mind of her own when it comes to having a good time.

“No,” You crinkle your nose.

Jill laughs, “Oh come on—one more. You’re not calling it early already, are you? We can get fries after this.”

You sigh, a bit dramatically, but how can you turn down fries? “Fine.” You shake your head, running a hand over your face as you sit at the counter of your frequent bar, “I’ll be back though.”

You slide off the barstool, motioning she should save your seat as you put your purse on it. She grins, cups your cheeks with her hands and plants a kiss on your forehead. You shoo her off, moving through the crowd to the restroom. Once you’ve used the bathroom and spend a little time with a cold and wet paper towel to the back of your neck, you come back out and nearly run someone over—

And blink because—

“Austin.”

It’s been a few months since you’ve seen him but fuck, he looks just as amazing as he did when you tried to explain yourself in the café. Wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, boots and a white button down, he’s got a leather jacket on as well, just a bit more scruff to his face.

“I was wonderin’ if you were gonna be here.” But it’s…contemplative, thoughtful, like he might have actually planned on trying to find you in the bar where you met.

You feel like the world might be spinning off its axis. “Here I am.”

He smiles a little, glancing over his shoulder and fuck, you wonder if he’s here with someone and—you’re pleasantly surprised that it doesn’t cause some adverse reaction. No punch in your gut that you completely screwed everything up. Time, it seems, does heal some wounds.

Maybe not heal, scar at the very least.

“I saw you post somethin’ on your instastory and I was…well I was hopin’…” He kinda trails off and two thoughts slam into your body like a freight train. One, he sounds…nervous? Which you feel like is very unlike him, given what you’ve been through together. And second? It actually sounds like he knew you were here and he meant to find you on purpose.

“Can we talk?” He asks, “Maybe outside?”

“Yes,” And god, you hope you don’t say that too fast. “Fresh air sounds good.”

As you begin to walk outside with him, you text Jill letting her know where you’re going (and with who). She sends you exactly three text messages in response that you don’t dare look at.

You take in a deep breath in once you get outside, the cool air settling over you like a bucket of cold water. You almost wish you grabbed your jacket from the bar but…dragging Austin over there towards Jill would have been such a bad idea.

It’s fine—the air is refreshing, a bit sobering and this conversation probably won’t last long either way. Taking in a breath, you turn to look at him, a soft smile on your face as you wrap your arms around yourself.

“So…”

Austin clears his throat, “You uh—?” He motions to his jacket and you’re not quite strong enough to deny his offer, so you gently nod your head. Austin slips off his leather jacket and hands it to you and you put it on.

A soft noise of approval leaves your lips as your arms go through the sleeves, a little bit long, feeling perfect though when you zip it up. The lingering scent of his cologne and skin is enough to almost knock you on your knees.

“Thank you.” You whisper, curling your hair around your ear.

You know that Austin is gathering his thoughts, but waiting almost somehow feels worse. You’re just…not sure what to do with yourself other than stare at him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” He finally says, “At your place?” It’s like the tension start to unwind from your shoulder at that, you almost have to physically swallow over your words so you can let him speak. “Just…felt like what we did, it was real—and—”

“It was real,” You assure him, can’t allow him to think otherwise, “I know this is going to sound cliché but…opening that cash app had everything to do with me, not you. I wasn’t second-guessing what happened.”

Austin gently waves you off, “It’s not your fault, I—I’m so used to things bein’ a business transaction that I just jumped to conclusions.”

You give him a small smile and it feels good? to be on the same page after all this time but…it’s not like, “It’s okay,” You curl your hair around your ear, “I’m not sure where something like this could go. I wouldn’t ask you to quit a job that’s clearly lucrative.”

Austin nods softly, “Well you don’t have to, because I already have.”

You’re not sure why what he says doesn’t register right away, you’re kinda just staring at him, wrapped up in his leather jacket, people passing you both on the sidewalk as you stand outside this bar.

Then you blink, “What?”

He smirks, running a hand through his hair as he nods, “Yeah, I uh—just didn’t want to do it anymore.”

You feel like your brain might be short circuiting, “But about acting? What about L.A.?”

A soft laugh rumbles in his throat, “I can still do L.A. Bein’ an actor isn’t goin’ anywhere.”

And you know that he still has a café job, that he can find other jobs to satisfy what he wants in terms of collecting money but…somehow you’re worried he’s traded one thing in for another. Even though Austin doesn’t look like he has any regrets as he takes a step towards you. His hands gently rest on your arms, sliding down, like he’s waiting for you to push him away.

When you don’t—

“You're not the only one goin' after what they want.”

You can’t stop a small laugh from slipping from your lips and before you can talk yourself out of it, you press yourself up on your toes and kiss him. His arms wrap around you automatically, drawing you closer, his one hand cupping the back of your neck.

It feels like you’re kissing for a long time, or maybe it’s just felt too long since you’ve kissed. Either way, pulling away makes you feel a bit breathless and Austin smiles, pressing your foreheads together for a moment.

It feels like starting over, or maybe even better, a new chapter.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things

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welcometothejianghu · 9 months

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 少年歌行/The Blood of Youth

The Blood of Youth is a 2022 live-action adaptation of the tale of a deposed, disabled, and incredibly cunty prince who's on his way back to settle the score with his asshole father, and the rag-tag band of weirdos he accumulates along the way, including Spear Girl, Bad Monk, and Fire Puppy (pictured above).

I hope you like shounen anime, because this is the most shounen anime something is allowed to be without actually being based on something running weekly in Shounen Jump. What if Nirvana in Fire were also Naruto? It would be the Blood of Youth.

This show is an underrated gem of action-packed fun that not nearly enough people in English-speaking fandom have seen. In an attempt to correct that -- and ahead of an announced second season and prequel in progress -- I'm here with five reasons you should try it out.

1. Zero thoughts head empty

You do not have to pay an enormous amount of attention to this show to understand what's going on. The show itself does not always know what's going on. It got distracted by a shiny object over there, and now we're all gearing up to go punch the shiny object. We'll get back to the main plot when we're done with the punching.

It has a million billion plot threads going on at any given moment. Bad guys roll in from sects you've never heard of before, using superpowers with stupid names, only to get kicked into next week. There's approximately eleventy thousand characters -- so many, in fact, that I ran into problems several times while making this rec post, because there aren't readily available photos of everyone I want to talk about. Just look at the DramaWiki cast list. See how it goes on for like fifty screens? That's a little what the show feels like.

Except I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing, because the show knows it's doing this, and it acts accordingly. It telegraphs pretty well who's important and who isn't (and then it goes out of its way to color-code the latter, which is handy). What you're left with is absolutely a manga-style plot, complete with training arcs and semi-relevant sidequests, all working up to the final boss match.

It is an extremely self-aware show. On multiple occasions, something would happen, I would crack a joke about it, and then a beat later the show itself would make the exact same joke. I wouldn't call it an outright comedy, but it's still very funny, and on purpose. It has no illusions about being some kind of profound, meaningful epic. Mostly it's just here for a good time.

Yet this lightheartedness is what makes the powerful emotional parts really powerful by contrast. The show is not stupid; it's just goofing around most of the time. When it knuckles down, it can be devastating. And you know what? It does wind up being profound and meaningful about some stuff. How about that.

So yeah, if you're up for something that bops merrily right along and only occasionally rips your heart out, here you go!

2. Putting the poly in polycule

Bisexuals, rejoice! It's representin' time!

Here you go, I made a relationship chart of about 40% of the show's potential and canonical ships. I could have included so many more, but I only had so much space on the image, so I had to leave out some amazing ones, like the sword hedgehog who's real into this one cougar who could easily wipe the floor with him, or the rich nerd who thinks he has a chance with the aforementioned hot butch, or the fancy MILF who cheated on the emperor with a dreamy jianghu man and is trying not to cheat on him again with a different, slightly less dreamy jianghu man. See? There's just so much.

I would also say these are not exclusive ships. They are extremely inclusive ships. I am a fan of most (though admittedly not all) of the pairings listed here, and in fact of many of the three-and-more-somes indicated by these lines. They're such a cuddle puddle of shared intense feelings that it's hard to imagine anyone getting more than mildly jealous. Moreover, the potential for romance does not get in the way of hetero friendships; a boy and a girl who are each dating other people can go do adventures together, and (mostly) nobody gets weird about it, which is nice. If anything, what makes the overall dynamic so polycule-like is how equally friends and love interests get treated, meaning that it's not difficult to see a lot of crossover potential between those two categories.

If you're like me, you're hesitant about canonical romance, especially when it's straight, mostly because so many straight love stories wind up being tiresome, gross, and/or skull-poundingly boring. You will then be pleasantly surprised by how the canon pairings with members of the main cast are not like this at all!

Xiao Se and Sikong Qianluo are the main textual romance, and golly gee, they're just cute as heck. As the chart above indicates, I like interpreting them as two Kinsey 6's who have found their single exceptions, Mulder-and-Scully-style. Maybe one of the best things about their relationship is that it gets sidelined all the time for the plot. They're not so busy being in love that they forget to get shit done. Then they get a bit of downtime and get to go on a date, and you're like, aww, those sweet gay disaster babies are gonna do a little bit of heterosexuality. Just precious.

Tang Lian and Fairy Rui are right up there with the cuteness. She's a sex-positive dancing beauty who wants to ride that pretty boy like she stole him, and he's a shy sword boy so tightly bottled up that he'll explode if he sees a bare ankle. Avoiding spoilers, I will simply say that this is a pairing of two relatively soft people, until a bad thing happens to one of them and the other hardens up about it. If that's your jam, they're here for you.

Lei Wujie and Ye Ruoye are probably the most magical and the most practical of the bunch. They have a beautiful, super-dreamy, really horny sword-dance meet-cute, complete with its own pop song ... and then that's it, they're basically just together. She likes him, he likes her, good for them. In-laws aside, it's a refreshingly low-drama situation. Besides, I always love it when the hypercompetent woman gets the sweet, devoted himbo who'd do anything for her. Ruoye's had a hard life, and she deserves someone who can dick her down good at night and make her a nourishing breakfast the next morning.

And then there is, of course, The Ship:

Xiao Se and Wuxin are canonical, textual soulmates. The show treats their dynamic as more important than any other. It's so important, in fact, that the show has to sideline Wuxin for huge parts of the drama, lest everything get too damn gay. They each get a boyfriend catch on the other. They both do fairly reckless things when the other is in trouble. They are the secret hidden happy ending to the series. They share the kind of ride-or-die relationship built on mutually being the hugest bitches in any given room. Whether or not you think this is romance, it is extremely romantic, and the series agrees as much as it can, all things considered.

And if none of those flavors of love float your boat? Well, have you considered ... eunuchs?

3. She likes e4e

So I'm on record as being real into eunuch characters, right? Well, if you're with me on that, you are in for a treat here, because these are some absolutely buck-wild eunuchs.

There's five main ones, and I can't even begin to scratch the surface of what's going there. Like, really, I don't even think I understood all of what was happening with them. They're kind of the bad guys, but then they're kind of the good guys, but then some of them are the bad guys, but then they're just working for the bad guys, but then they screw over the bad guys, and ... it's just a lot, okay? It's a lot, and it's all happening with this bunch of catty bitches.

Also, you would not believe the difficult time I had finding any images for this section. I guess for some reason, fandom isn't way into a bunch of canonically dickless color-coordinated middle-aged men in weird hats? Whatever, man, they are missing out. If, however, you have the good sense to be into the intense and complicated (semi-romantic??) relationships among colleagues who also professionally just happen to be missing their external genitalia, buddy, strap in (and maybe strap on, depending).

Don't let me oversell how much these guys are in the show. They're not. They're vaguely important at points throughout, and they become incredibly important near the end, but they're hardly main characters. They're mostly back at the palace, doing their various schemes and looking absolutely fantastic.

So if they're such a minor part of the story, why do they get their own selling point? Well, I think their presence is a good example of two specific things about the show:

Specific thing the first: It's so queer -- not gay, but queer. Thinking back to my last selling point, you will notice how many of those straight pairings may look normie on the outside, but once you get down to it are not playing by cishet rules. (For instance, I've seen a lot of people read Tang Lian's resistance to sexual advances as asexuality, which, sure!) Likewise, there are lots of incredibly important, intimate relationships that don't conform to standard romantic pair dynamics. Add to that a lot of bodies with unusual characteristics and conditions, and you've got the makings of plenty of delightful non-normative love stories.

Specific thing the second: There are so many things going on with so many side characters that there's a kink here for everyone. Don't care for eunuchs? How about slinky villains with mind-control powers? Devoted servants who would do anything for their masters? Former bad guys who owe life-debts to the good guys who saved them? Bonded pairs traipsing around the jianghu together? Sons nursing legitimate grudges against the men who killed their fathers? Alcoholic widowers with incredibly slutty necklines? Mysterious cross-dressers with unconvincing moustaches? Vengeful brides? Martial siblings? Murderous royals? Guilt-ridden half-siblings? Boring star-crossed lovers? All these and more! It's a smorgasbord of rarepair fuel!

Also, I just love these toxic drama queens. It's like if RuPaul's Drag Race had the authority to have you executed.

4. The most intriguing outfits I've ever seen in anything (and yes, I'm including Winter Begonia)

Time for a fashion show!

The asymmetrical fits, the detailed embroidery on everything, the brilliant colors -- everybody just looks so good. And yet everything still looks ... eh, I don't know if "practical" is the word I want, but at least wearable. Nobody's dragging ten-foot trains of fabric behind them or wrapped in eighty floofy layers of gauze (except Rui, but she's special). Their outfits are strange and elaborate, but they don't defy physics.

What's truly stunning is how often they get new outfits. Xiao Se alone changes clothes about once every other episode, and more if he's getting a flashback. He is the fashion plate of the whole series, and every look he serves is pitch-perfect.

They're not outright color-coded, but the main characters do have certain colors associated with them -- which is extra-fun when you watch those colors bleeding into their friends' clothes as their relationships get stronger. I also think -- and I'm willing to be proven wrong on this point, but I think I'm right -- that they recycle some characters' outfits into parts of other characters' outfits. On more than one occasion, I'd swear that Lei Wujie shows up wearing the left half of something Xiao Se was wearing a few episodes back (tailored to fit him, of course, because that dumb ponytail boy is tall).

Where I think the costume design gets massive points, though, is that the costumes are themselves adaptations.

Before the live-action series, there was a 2018 3D animated donghua. I have never watched the latter, but apparently the drama is intensely faithful to the animated visuals, to the point where some fights are shot-for-shot remakes.

Of course, you can do a lot more with unreal clothing and bodies in animation -- and you can show a lot more skin, at least according to Chinese content laws. The live-action costumers chose to preserve about as many of the appearance beats from the donghua as they could manage, while still accepting the limitations of real-life bodies and materials. You can see some side-by-side comparisons here. The live-action outfits manage to be instantly recognizable without being slavishly devoted recreating to their inspirations.

So if you're sick and tired of dreary, ill-lit shows with bland palettes, this vibrant, colorful drama may be just the thing for you. It's a rainbow from start to finish.

5. Actually a good central plot?

Despite all the wacky delightful shounen nonsense that this show has -- and it has a lot -- the core of the whole narrative, which is Xiao Se's story, is surprisingly great and cohesive.

The short version is this: Xiao Se used to be Xiao Chuhe, sixth prince and somewhat heir apparent. Then he and his jerk-ass dad had a falling-out that resulted in the prince's having his martial arts abilities all but taken from him. He's been living the life of a very well-dressed innkeeper for several years, trying to avoid all of that palace garbage. But now his jerk-ass dad is dying, which means that a lot of horrible decisions are finally having unfortunate consequences for everyone, and Xiao Se's got to get back in there to make sure everything does not go to shit and land someone terrible on the throne -- even if it has to mean taking it himself.

His central conflict is between what he used to be and what he's become. Does he miss being Xiao Chuhe, high-ranked martial artist and future emperor? Or is he happier being Xiao Se, long-suffering nobody who can barely run a business, much less hold his own in a fight? What would he be willing to do to get back what he's lost? What are his obligations to himself versus his obligations to everyone else? How much is he responsible for his father's bullshit? And why has he wound up having to babysit this stupid Fire Puppy?

It's okay, they're best friends now. Lei Wujie decided.

No spoilers, but I liked Xiao Se's ending a lot. I feel it's very true to the character and shows a real understanding of who he is and what he values. And really, at the end of the day, sometimes all you need for a happy ending is your girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend's boyfriend who's also your boyfriend, your other boyfriend, his girlfriend, and your long-distance for-real soulmate.

Feel like giving the youths a try?

You can find them on YouTube or on Viki. But be absolutely sure that no matter where you watch it, you make sure to go watch the epilogue as well. (And if you get real into the story, well, here's a link to information about all the other adaptations.)

You are also welcome for how I did not spend this post going off for five hundred years on how much I love Wuxin and his funky relationship to Buddhism. I figured that's way too niche of a selling point for most people, and might indeed have even been counterproductive. But know that I could have.

Also, I'm very happy about the announcement of a second season, because that's going to mean Liu Xueyi has to shave his head again, and he looks unbearably good with a shaved head.

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention the whole motorcycle photoshoot?

In case you hadn't noticed, the whole cast is stupidly hot. Hachi machi.

#the blood of youth #少年歌行 #bloody youths #i made this #rec post #the party is a polycule #LeiDHD

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2smolbeans · 8 months

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Grand Admiral Leviathan thought cause we barely have enough of him!!:

Tags: washed up Leviathan wanting to relive the memories, This is so poorly written, mentions of devildom world building, OOC Leviathan, Leviathan missing his sailors but also being embarrassed of them because their all drunken idiots lol

Because of how much time has passed with the human world modernizing and not in touch with the spirit realm anymore (due to technology and the majority of people not using religion HEAVILY as logic. Like I'm talking witch trials logic).

There aren't a lot of pirates (specifically demon pirates) smuggling devildom products, fruits, or creatures to the human world anymore.

As a result, Leviathan's sailors are really rusty and bored. Like the demons in devildom are minding their own businesses, the sinners who didn't get the luxury of avoiding damnation are too busy probably burning in one of the circles of hell, humans aren't really interfering with the spiritual realm, and angels...Well, they're too busy guarding the gates of heaven, monitoring earth, and helping lost souls.

So, really, there's nothing for the navy to do nowadays. Everyone is kind of in retirement.

Most of the day, they just spend their time cleaning the docks, fishing, harassing the sirens, going out to the pub- and just lazing around. You'd think their all-powerful leader would take this as an embarrassment and punish his lazy workers, right?

Nope! He fell victim to this too.

With nothing to patrol, no demons to interigate, and no black market businesses going on anymore - the grand admiral of hell has now become an otaku..

Now locked in his room, he watches anime as a way to blissfully repress those memories he longs for..Or maybe he watches it to relive those memories, or perhaps it's to hide away from the shame..Who knows?

___________________________

The waves crashed, the swords collided, and their cries echoed the ocean. The two men fought as their lives depended on it.

"Goddamn it, tell me where you hid it!"

CLASH!

"I have no idea what you're talking ABOUT!!"

Thunder struck as they continued to fight. As the brunette fell back onto the wooden floors of the ship, his crewmates were swift to fight in his place while they helped him up. Just as the fight was about to reach its climax, the blonde screamed as he was pushed down by one of the brunettes crew. Now, being restrained by two team members, the brunette walked towards him, deadpanning as he wiped the dirt off his face.

"Where is it? I can do this the easy way..Or the hard way.."

"Try me."

SLAP

"Heh..Hit me harder."

In disgust, the brunette spat on the blonde's face as he scowled.

"You're disgusting. I bet you enjoyed that..Now. Where is it?"

The blonde chuckled as he stared up at the brunette.

"It's....."

With an abrupt ending, the episode ended as the theme song began to play with the background. Angry, he slammed his hand against the ground and he wailed as his tail heavily swished with the air in annoyance.

"Fuck! Another cliffhanger? Again?!"

Scratching his scalp with his talons, Leviathan fought the urge to whine and roll on the floor in a fit as he looked at the time.

"I'd stay up..But I have this stupid fucking council meeting tommorow ughhhhh!! Like what's the point of these meetings? We don't even do much in it! It doesn't even make a difference!"

Letting out a groan, Leviathan sighed as he recalled the warning from Lucifer.

'Remember..Tommorow we will be discussing the safety of our students. Lately, the sirens and succubi have been scheming something..'

Believe it or not, Leviathan himself went out to see what these seducers were up to. He was so excited to finally have something interesting happen, something he could use his skills for, anything to get that excitement again!

But nope. Turned out, it was some MLM scam. So much for some secretive organized crime..

His brothers don't know this since he's embarrassed to admit it, but he's desperate to be relevant or 'on the chase' again.

Like...Mammon runs a casino. Lucifer has parties with the elites in hell to have fun with. Satan is busy tormenting the sinners suffering in the nine circles for fun. Belphegor is busy visiting people's dreams and giving them sleep paralysis demons. Asmodeus is too busy clubbing - and oh yeah, he owns a club full of succubus and inncubi. Beelzebub, surprisingly, is helping with the food production in devildom..Hell even Diavolo himself has been making deals with human celebrities!

But Leviathan.. He's too busy in his room watching anime..

Pondering as he sat quiet in the room. Leviathan looked at his closet, furrowing his eyebrows as he frowned.

When was the last time he ever wore that uniform?

_________________________

Overall, with how I see it, I see Leviathan as this ancient evil who is capable of so much chaos and destruction. But because of his low self-esteem, the new world, and his struggles with getting back on track- he's more softer and out of touch with his roots.

I mean, for crying out loud, he knows Lotan, the monster of the sea - infamous drowning sailors! He definitely knows the kraken, the most infamous feared creature known for its size and power. And probably Cthulhu, known as the great old ones! I mean, for an old eldritch, of course, it would have definitely come face to face with one of the first fallen angels that introduced the branches of sin. I'm pretty sure Leviathan, for shits and giggles, had brunch with this guy one time!

Leviathan often wonders how his sailors are doing. At the same time, he doesn't want to see them since the last time he ever resurfaced and visited the navy.. It was a disaster.

Like, don't ever mention the incident of 1955 to him. That year, when he came back to visit after so long, the sailors were so awkward around him, his elite captains weren't even there, the place set on fire- and it was just a disaster. The whole thing was broadcasted on the radio, and his brothers till this day make fun of him for it.

Back when Leviathan was in his prime time in the navy. He had a lot of fun torturing any pirates that went against Diavolo's orders, and most importantly- the reputation he had as Hell's most terrifying military man.

I mean if anyone crossed his way, he'd make an example out of them by tearing them in half and putting their heads ontop of the flag pole!

Man, does he miss those days..I mean of course, he still has his reputation! And he loves his anime conventions and series! But it's just not the same..

But thinking of those things..Leviathan thinks that maybe one day, he could perhaps try again and visit the navy. Maybe talk to the old cryptids and witches of the sea!

But yeah! That's all the brain dump I have for now. Lemme know if you have any thoughts or ideas for Grand Admiral Levi!

#obey me x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #yandere grand admiral levi #grand admiral leviathan #obey me headcanons #obey me shitpost #obey me

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crepes-suzette-373 · 9 months

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One Piece Magazine Reiju short story

I recently bought One Piece Magazine to read the Reiju short story. I don't know how to share this experience other than just straight up translating the whole thing, but it was utterly hilarious chaos with the brothers trying to cook and it just ended up being a disastrous mess.

I'll give a summary, I guess...

Reiju and her brothers went to another kingdom for a diplomatic discussion, but once they were done, the Germa ships that were supposed to pick them up got delayed by the weather. The bros can't wait so they demand the locals to be given a ship.

Niji/Yonji: "Oh good, they understand. So we don't have to steal a ship."

Well, they did tell the people that Germa will compensate them, but still.

And yeah, the guys were so hungry that they were like "Even though royals shouldn't do menial things like cooking, we're dying of hunger here so it can't be helped."

All writers apparently agree that Niji misses Sanji like an utter dumbass because in the kitchen he out of nowhere says "Didn't we used to have a younger brother called Sanji who likes to cook?"

Yonji says "Yeah, he was kind of lame" and Ichiji says there's been wanted posters of him being spread around.

(Edit: I saw another post saying that the one who brought up Sanji first is Ichiji. To be fair, in the actual text there's no dialogue tags indicating who was talking. It's definitely not Yonji, because it specified "younger" brother. I personally read this as Niji because the sentence was more informal-sounding)

Based on the info they got, Reiju is aware of Sanji's history with Baratie and the Straw Hat crew, and thinks that because he's listed as just a cook on the wanted posters and not "fighter/combatant", he's probably still not much stronger than before.

Ichiji found some pork, labelled to be from Broc Coli. Reiju mentioned that Broc Coli specialises in pig farming and the pigs have been selectively bred to improve the meat quality. Ichiji commented "Oh, it's similar to our lineage factor modification, then", but then the next second he suddenly gets mad about it himself, throws the meat to the ground and was like "How could pigs compare to our Vinsmoke royal family."

Reiju: "You brought it up yourself out of nowhere though? :/"

Ichiji is grumpy and wants to go fishing instead. With the Raid Suit. Don't know how, wasn't explained, maybe he Sparking Valkyrie'd the fishes.

Niji wants to make chocolates, but had a meltdown because the recipe calls for cooking/confectioner's chocolate. He was like "Why?? do you?? need chocolate?? to make chocolate??? If the chocolate is already there I'll just eat that directly???"

(Note: It's not making cake or brownies or anything, it's making something along the lines of chocolate truffles or milk chocolates or other forms of chocolate that isn't just straight up dark chocolate/confectioner's chocolate. He's confused because the final product is still just "chocolate")

Yonji wants to make bread because it looks easy. Reiju decided to try to make something too, and wanted to make tamagoyaki (Japanese rolled omelettes) because she remembered reading about it in a story book with Sora before.

Reiju's logic: "If a penguin (in the story book) can cook, then even a beginning like me can do it." (so much for Reiju being the rational one)

Yonji starts shouting for help. His bread is a goopy mess and is a total failure. Apparently he didn't add the yeast because the recipe says 3g of yeast, and that's almost 0, so he didn't add any. Reiju tells him to make sure to follow the steps properly.

Ichiji comes back with a giant fish, and is asking for poison check. No poison, so Reiju left him to cut the fish.

Yonji is still having trouble, and he says he had added the ingredients properly this time. The dough is still gloopy and will not firm up even after kneading. Reiju said that maybe because of the exoskeleton, their skin are too cold for the fermentation process to start activating.

Yonji is grumpy and asks if this means he can't make bread. Reiju suggest using hot water to warm his skin, but he's already really disgruntled and says that it's so lame that they have to rely on microorganisms to make bread (well, at least he knows yeast is microorganisms, not just another type of flour).

(Note: This part really does not sound right to me, honestly. Maybe this was just meant to show that Reiju and Yonji have zero knowledge in cooking, but bread dough not firming up and gloopy is usually not related to yeast or fermentation, but the gluten. Most cases that I know of are either caused by adding too much water, not enough kneading, the flour itself is not suitable for bread, or even the dough being over fermented. I've never heard of sticky dough problems being caused by hand temperature.)

(Edit: I've discovered that Japanese bread making guides do mention temperature affecting the dough, but it's nevertheless because of the gluten and not the yeast. This one might a goof on the author's side.)

Ichiji gave up fileting the fish because there's bones everywhere. he dumped all the dead fishes he caught back to the sea. Yonji gave up trying to make bread and tossed the failed dough away (and also threw away Reiju's egg attempt even though it was fine :/). Niji can't find any chocolate, so he has nothing.

They can't do anything except wait until they reach Germa and then just go "AAAAAAA FOOODD" (well, they act cool in front of the servants, but still).

Reiju herself showered and got cleaned up first before going to eat. Seeing the poisoned stonefish served, she wondered how normal chefs handle the poisonous ingredients and so she went to the kitchen to ask.

There was a young cook on cleaning duty that immediately panics, but then a senior cook named Beryl came out to answer her questions. Reiju says old lady Beryl has been there for a very long time, even before the kids were born.

Beryl explains that to treat the armoured stonefish to make it safe to eat is to let it swim in a tank with Ruby Wakame seaweed. The seaweed will absorb the toxins and after 3 weeks, the fish will change from purple to blue, and this indicates that the toxins is completely gone and it will be safe to eat.

An easier method would be to just skin the fish and take out the poisonous organs, but fish skin is a delicacy, and so the chefs would do this so they can serve cuts of the fish with the skin attached.

Reiju makes a comment that cooking must be very hard because her brothers are all picky eaters (not just Niji, apparently), but Beryl says she and the other chefs are happy to adjust the prep to make the food palatable to the boys.

"Ichiji-sama dislikes green vegetables, but if you chop it up finely and mix it with meat dishes such as hamburg steaks, he will eat it without noticing."

Reiju: Is he a toddler?

(Note: Dunno if this is a universal thing, but it's a Japanese thing that when toddlers hate vegetables, the parents would chop up vegetables and put it in meatballs or the toddler's other favourite food so that they can get the vegetable nutrients even though the child dislikes the vegetable's taste)

"Niji-sama dislikes things with complex seasonings, so things like the sauces and such has to be made to be very simple to the utmost extent."

Reiju: That's dumb.

"Yonji-sama doesn't like food with dry texture, but if it's served to him when he gets hungry between meal times, he'll usually eat it."

Reiju: Is he a dog?

(Note: There is a section where Reiju muses that the cooks "safeguards" their meals just like how "Germa 66 protect peace". What peace? In the main series they're fine with siding with whoever, as long as they get paid. This comment doesn't make sense unless maybe she was being ironic/sarcastic here.)

Reiju apologised for bothering the cooks at this time, and Beryl then lets slip that Sanji has been to the kitchens often. When Reiju presses further, eventually Beryl reveals that Sora likes to make desserts often. Sora would say that she hoped to someday be able to cook together with her kids.

Hearing this Reiju briefly fantasised baking together with her mother and Sanji. Knowing it's just idle fantasy, though, she thanks Beryl for telling her all these and helping her appreciate cooking more.

Reiju thinks of Sanji and reevaluates her opinions on him. He's not "just" a cook. People's lives are basically in the hands of the cook, especially on long voyages at sea. She is glad that him having a place as a ship's cook means that he's found good friends who rely on him and trust him.

She then transforms, and uses her ability to suck out the poison from the fish, saying that the cooks are welcome to ask her for help to take out the poison if they need to cook with the stonefish.

#one piece #vinsmoke family #vinsmoke brothers #vinsmoke #vinsmoke siblings #ichiji #niji #yonji #vinsmoke ichiji #vinsmoke niji #vinsmoke yonji #germa 66 #reiju #vinsmoke reiju

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lemotmo · 3 months

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I'm going to try and approach this a bit differently. We have all been in a position where we desperately wanted something from a show. We can all relate to the desire for something you love to become canon. I still fret about whether or not they'll actually give us Buddie. Yes it has been sign posted but it's been sign posted for years and we're still waiting. Anyway I say that part to say this next part. They are sign posted. The canon signs are there and there everywhere. None of it is made up from nothing. Yes there are headcanons but that's true of every ship. But most of the headcanons have canon scenes that they stem from. The BT stuff is all headcanon. I keep seeing gifs of Buck with gifs of Lou from other acting rolls and them being tagged as bucktommy. Those gifs have nothing to do with 911 and aren't Tommy. None of it is based on canon. It has all come from their cameo conversations with Lou. And that genuinely dumbfounds me. Because now I see less and less Buck and it's increasingly Tommy centered.

Buck is the character the show cares about and they know that. I don't know enough about the SWAT theory to speak to it's truth or not but the timing of its renewal and him going 911 dark does somewhat feed into the rumor. I don't know, it's bad enough so many of them have become horrible towards Eddie but now they're starting to change who Buck canonically is to fit their headcanons of Tommy (the whole damsel in distress nonsense enrages me). And while I understand the desire to push for what you love, basic knowledge of the show has to play into your expectations at some point. It will be interesting(terrifying) to see how they react when his arc finishes, and he himself stated it was an arc(hello people he said this) so I'm just forever dumbfounded as to how we got here and I'm someone who genuinely tried to see where they're coming from.

*sigh* sorry for the length of this ask. Your blog is lovely.

Yes Nonny. Yes! All of this! This has been on my mind for so long now and you managed to summarize it so beautifully.

I simply do not get how we got here. A couple of months ago, everything was great in this fandom. We had no great expectations of Buddie canon, but we were happy to be on ABC so we could maybe get some more Buddie scenes. And we did get them. Season 7 was great for Buddie.

Unfortunately it also brought along Tommy. I was and still am thrilled for Buck being revealed as being bisexual. It's wonderful! And the initial thrill of it was exciting. I immediately started tying this in to Eddie. A lot of us in the Buddie fandom have long since theorised that, as soon as one of them would come out, the other would follow because it would be the only thing to make sense. Buck and Eddie have both been queer-coded for so long now and finally we would see some movement in their story.

Imagine my surprise when suddenly some people decided that Tommy was the best thing that had ever happened to Buck. It was all Tommy this, Tommy that, Tommy with the sun shining out of his ***. I was so confused. Even some of my Buddie mutuals who I had known for years, just kind of gave up on Buddie and started worshipping at the altar of Tommy Kinard.

And the fact that Lou started spouting his headcanons in those cameos definitely didn't help either. Some people really believe in those headcanons.

And listen, nothing against headcanons. I have some of my own. But there is a reason why they are called 'head'canons. It's because they are things you see and recognise in a character, but they aren't discussed in the show, so they aren't 'canon'. They remain 'fanon'.

Now, don't get me wrong, ship and let ship. But there is a difference between normal 'shipping' and liking the pair, and the total craziness the Tommy-hype has become.

I know a lot of people that are multi-shippers and I have mutuals who like BT as a transitional relationship, but ultimately still want Buddie. I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about the people who suddenly started talking down on Eddie as if he was treating Buck badly and how he was a bad father. And how, even if he were queer, Buck would never choose him over Tommy. Where did that come from? They didn't say that before. Why now?

And I ask the question: What is so special about Tommy? I keep seeing people that say Buck is in the best relationship ever. HOW? WHAT? WHERE? What do these people see that I don't see?

We have seen Tommy in a handful of scenes. In all of those scenes he has been dismissive, disrespectful and frankly not very interesting. There is no chemistry at all with Buck either. I mean, if there had been some palpable chemistry I might have liked it more, but it just seems as if Lou is going through the motions in those kisses. If they are such a great couple, where are the little couple things? Where is the handholding? The little in-jokes? Nothing! I mean, Oliver does his best to keep their scenes somewhat afloat, but Lou is clearly not even trying. So I truly do not understand this strange -almost obsessive and gatekeeping- behaviour when it comes to Lou and Tommy.

It's obvious-- and anyone with eyes can see this from miles away-- that Tommy is a narrative device to have Buck explore his bisexuality. Every single thing in the show, but also around the show, is pointing in that direction.

Think about it. There was no promotion whatsoever for BT, only for bi Buck and Buddie. They had one abysmal interview where they talked for 2 seconds about BT and Oliver looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. They have given Tommy no screentime whatsoever. He is only there when it is required for Buck's storyline. It practically screams: plot device.

Then we have Ryan giving interviews where he, once again, talks about Buck being a co-parent and how Eddie will explore himself in season 8. How he will push that refresh button and he will ultimately find the partner he needs. All gender neutral by the way.

I mean, look... I admit to having been delulu in the past over small things when it comes to Buddie. What can I say? It's been a long 6 years. But this? This is no longer about being delusional. This is full-blown 'in your face': BUDDIE IS HAPPENING! It's all right there when you look at it logically.

But yes, somehow, we are wrong because our ship isn't canon and it's apparantly homophobic to be against a canon ship?

Which... do these people know what fandom is actually about? It's about fictional people and we want to see these fictional people get interesting story arcs and we want some of them to end up together because they have such a great history and chemistry. Like Buddie.

So yes Nonny, I agree. And listen, I do too still fret sometimes that I might be seeing things that aren't there. It's in my nature as a libra to doubt everything.

But then I start putting all of the evidence in- and outside of the narrative together and... it can only lead to one thing: queer Eddie (which is about time) and eventually Buddie.

And imagine the payoff that will be. Imagine how the viewership will get a boost. So many more people would turn in. Bi Buck was big, but the fan favourite queer slow burn getting together after 7 seasons by then? The internet will explode. It will be epic.

For 6 seasons we have been rooting for these men to open their eyes and to see what is right in front of them. There were plans to go there, but FOX stopped it. Now they are on ABC and obviously ABC is okay with queer characters on their shows. I mean, look at 'Grey's anatomy'.

So yes, I proudly declare myself no longer delulu and 100% certain that Buddie is in the works. There is no more need for clown noses and clown cars. We are beyond that now. It's a matter of 'when', not 'if'.

Mind you, just my humble opinion here. But I stand with it.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #season 8 speculation #all this fandom discourse is so exhausting #I just want those pre season 7 fandom feeling back #no ship wars #no BT nonsense #just us speculating about Buddie in our little corner of the internet #I'm tired of this #nonnies galore

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cyberrose2001 · 7 months

Text

Kinktober: Day 9

Prompt: Spanking

TFA Sentinel x afab gn human!reader

Warnings: Spanking, degradation, fingering, size difference, roleplaying.

Word Count: 1,542

Got a little carried away with this... just a little... i hope y'all enjoy

@sentinelprimeswife because she requested the character and wanted to be tagged :)

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the fleshy that's been snooping around on my ship," Sentinel slams the airlock shut, turning towards you with an authoritative posture, "You didn't think we'd have surveillance cameras, did you?"

You jump at the boom of the airlock, whipping your head around to face Sentinel like a deer in headlights. All you wanted to do was check out the weird spaceship in the dead centre of the city, but naturally, you got curious and slipped past the invisible shield through a hidden opening.

Well, that's what you would say if all this wasn't roleplay.

Everyone thinks that Sentinel is organic-repulsed, that he finds humans so disgusting and pathetic. But it's all a cover-up. His attraction to humans feels shameful and is considered an abomination, in his words. So he plays pretend so as to not make the other bots suspicious. But occasionally, there's an opportunity to play for real, with a little human Jazz made friends with.

It's cute really, how much it turns Sentinel on, to wield his power over you, a tiny human that has no business gettin' flirty with alien robots.

You feign fear, not expecting him to find you so soon. Though that's a bit stupid of you to think when your hiding place was Sentinel's private office. But it wasn't entirely an accident.

"I'm sorry sir," You back yourself up against the large desk, much too large for you, "I-I was just curious-"

"Oh you were curious, were you?" Sentinel scoffs, striding over to you, "You humans have a saying, now what was it- ah yes, curiosity killed the tiger."

"Cat."

"Whatever," Sentinel rolls his optics, "My point is, you've got some nerve sneaking around on my ship, squishy. And that's enough to warrant punishment for a Cybertronian, let alone a human."

You bite your lip, "What kind of punishment are we talking about, sir?"

Sentinel looks down at you, getting an absolute kick out of the difference in size. His derma tugs at the corner, "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

You watch with ardour as he walks around to his chair behind the desk and sits down, though his posture seems more relaxed. He clears his vocalizer, a garbled static with a hidden excitement, "Well? Are ya gonna come out from the front of my desk or what?"

Taking a small gulp, you briskly walk behind his desk where he sits, standing next to his pedes. You don't dare look up at him, half out of embarrassment for what's to come and half from the sheer nausea-inducing height difference from this angle.

"Now, instead of just standing there, why don't you come closer?" Sentinel scowls, returning to his assertive personality after faltering for a moment. He leans down with an outstretched servo, and before you can even blink, he literally scoops you up to his eyeline. God if you weren't having head spins before, you sure are now.

"Hey don't do that I'll-"

"Don't even say it, you freak me out enough." Sentinel lies through his dentae, but he pulls a one-eighty real quick when he flips you on your stomach with a finger, "Arch your back struts, that's an order."

Ohhh. You know exactly where this is going now. He wants to spank you into obedience. You weren't going to lie, Sentinel is definitely the type of mech to have this kind of kink. Though a bit tamer than you were expecting, the thought of getting spanked by Sentinel sends a shiver of arousal to your core.

So you obey, arching your back for him. He, surprisingly, helps you out by bending his middle digit so you can drape your upper body over it. He's got a full view, tight jeans showing off all your humanly curves.

Sentinel's breath hitches, he can't help but bask in the warmth of your soft, pliable body. How you just melt into his servo and bend so fluidly. But he's getting distracted. He'll let himself lose control later, for now, he'll try to maintain at least some of his dignity.

"Look at you, taking orders like a good organic," Sentinel taunts, using his other servo to trace down your back, "I half expected you to put up a fight; a bit disappointing actually."

You don't have the nerve to say anything, afraid that you'll say something you'll regret. Because it's only a matter of seconds before Sentinel notices the small wet patch seeping through your jeans.

"Not talking?" Sentinel teases again, trailing a digit to your ass, "I guess I'll just have to make you scream."

Sentinel wiggles his digit behind the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down to your knees. If he didn't notice how wet you were before, he most certainly does now. He groans at the sight of the foreign sticky fluid soaking through your underwear, his spike involuntarily pulses behind his panel. Oh, what he would give to bend you over his desk right now. But you're far too small for his length.

"If my knowledge of humans is correct, I would say that you like this." Sentinel runs his fingertip across your ass, "How pathetic."

Before you could open your mouth to actually give him a comeback, he strikes the fat of your ass with a flick of his digit. A simple move on his part, but it was enough force to send you forward and make you cry out.

"There's your first one," Sentinel soothes the area, rubbing the reddened area gently, "Let's see how much more you can take, trespasser."

He does it again with just as much force but on your other ass cheek, watching how the soft flesh jiggles. Though he's 'punishing' you, he watches your every move and listens out for your safe word, making sure he's not pushing you to your limit.

A gush of arousal seeps between your legs at the third slap, back arching outwards like a cat with each one in a kneejerk reaction. Tears start to prick at your eyes at the sting, but you don't bother wiping them away. You know Sentinel likes to see the reactions he gets out of you.

Nearly half an hour passes, and your ass is red-raw, jeans ripped off long ago, crumpled on the desk. You're like a trembling leaf in his servo, which now collects a small pool of your fluids in his palm. You never once complained or back-chatted, taking your punishment like a good little organic. Sentinel's spike slipped past his array a while ago, and now resorts to grinding against the desk in replacement for his hands being full.

"One more," Sentinel pants, hips softly grinding against the desk, "Be a good little human and take one more for me..."

"Sentinel, please..." You whimper out, prepping yourself for the next sting. It comes swiftly, causing a shaky cry from you. But you take it, letting the tears run down your face and onto the digit you rest heavily on.

"Good... very good," Sentinel groans, rewarding you with a few pats on your back, "You took that a lot better than expected, I suppose you deserve a little repayment."

You half expected him to slap you again, but he doesn't. Instead, he moves your underwear to the side and rubs the tip of his digit against your soaking slit. The relief of finally getting some stimulation to your numbed nervous system causes a rush of exhilaration, and you can't help but grind against his digit.

"Please... I've been good," You shiver as you feel him press past your folds, "I promise I won't snoop around on your ship again I swear- nghffh!"

"I've heard enough of your yapping," Sentinel pushes his digit the rest of the way inside you, growling at how hot and tight you feel, "All I wanna hear from you now is those little whimpers, you understand?"

"Mhm," You moan as he thrusts and curls inside you, wet squishy sounds accompanying your whimpers, "Yes, sir."

"Good little organic..." Sentinel pants, resuming his grinding against the desk, focusing on how your tight cunt eagerly swallows him up, "Primus, I bet you'd look so tiny on my spike, wouldn't you?"

"Yes sir," You're so fucking desperate to cum at this point, you start bouncing your ass on his finger, imagining it's his thick spike stretching and filling you out, "Fuck... nffnn-"

"Bet you'd be so warm too," He groans, close to finishing on his own, "Frag it-"

Sentinel cries out as he shoots thick ropes of transfuid across his desk, spike throbbing with yearning. Though trembling through his overload, his relentless thrusts of his digit buried inside you only hasten.

And before long, he's watching you cum hard around his finger, impaling yourself as much as you can on him. You cry, scream and jerk as you work yourself through it. Fluid drips from between your shaking thighs, running down your legs as you collapse on his hand.

Sentinel half-laughs half sighs in exhaustion, slipping his finger out and flopping back onto his chair. He lifts you back to his level, petting your limp form with a shaky servo, "Guess you're good for somethin' after all, human."

#tfa #tfa sentinel #tfa sentinel x reader #tfa x reader #transformers animated x reader #transformers x reader #valveplug #cyberrosewrites #kinktober 2023 #cyberroses kinktober 2023

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vodika-vibes · 7 months

Text

It's Not That Complicated

Summary: You have a complicated relationship with Crosshair. More than friends but less than a couple. Friends with benefits might be the closest descriptor, but even that doesn’t feel right. When a mission goes wrong, Crosshair takes the chance to clear the air.

Pairing: Rebel! Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 2636

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: This is based in the same setting as my Imperial!Tech fic. Because it's a fun setting and I kind of love it.

“No need to panic,” You call over your shoulder as your hands fly across the console of your ship, doing everything in your power to keep the ship level. “Everything is fine.”

“Really?” Crosshair asks as he glances out the window, “Because I think that was an engine.”

“Well, we only need one.” You say cheerfully, just as another explosion rocks your ship.

“...that was the second engine.” Crosshair offers mildly, as if commenting on the weather.

“Still no need to panic. We’re fine.”

Your hands fly even faster across the console, as you manage to keep the ship level. You pause for a moment to fasten your harness, and then you go back to work.

There’s a ripping noise, and your fingers pause, while Crosshair glances out the other window, “Ah.”

“What?”

“We just lost a wing.”

You’re silent for a moment, “It’s fine. Not a problem.”

“At what point does this become a problem?” Crosshair asks as he also fastens his harness.

“Oh…in about 10 minutes when we want to land.”

His sharp eyes snap to the back of your head, “Please tell me you're joking.”

“Yes, of course.” You flash a small, cocky grin in his direction, “I am the best, after all.”

“If you were actually as good as you think you are, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” Crosshair points out.

“Stow it.” You snip, “And brace for impact, we’re going to land hard.”

“Of course we are.” Still Crosshair does as you ask, at least, you assume that he does, you’re a bit distracted with making sure you both survive this.

You slow the ship and drop the landing gear, and carefully, very carefully, bring the ship down. It’s harder, with only one wing, but you manage it.

The ship lands hard, hard enough that it rattles your teeth in your head, and you can hear the landing gear snap as the ship slides on the ice. And then, it comes to a stop and topples to the side, leaning against the singular remaining wing.

“...well. Any landing you can walk away from, right?”

Crosshair shoots you a look, “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Nope.” You unfasten your harness and get to your feet. Bruised and battered, but still alive. “You alright?”

“I think my teeth rattled out of my head.” Crosshair bitches as he unfastens his harness and makes his way to the door. He has to pry it open, and he kicks the emergency slide down.

“Good thing we have excellent health and dental.” You chirp as you pull on winter weather gear and grab your kit.

Crosshair rolls his eyes, “Come on, kitten. Off the ship.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You scramble over to him and, with his help, you slide down the emergency ramp and land in a pile of snow. “Cross! This planet sucks!” You call up to the ship.

“Deal with it!” He calls back, “I’m sending the pack down to you.” He sets a large pack on the ramp and slides it down to you, before he slides down himself.

You watch him get to his feet, before you hand the massive pack to him, and then you cast your gaze over your ship, “I’m going to give her a once over. I might be able to fix her.”

Crosshair’s face isn’t noticeable, due to his helmet, but he tilts his head in a way that you are very familiar with. “Go ahead. But we can’t stay long.”

“Yay! Thanks Cross.” You grab your kit and hurry over to the ship, effortlessly scrambling back up the ramp and climbing up onto the roof to take a look at the damage.

You’ve been a pilot for the Rebellion since the fall of the Republic, and, before that, you were a pilot for the GAR. Of course, the GAR didn’t need any natborn pilots, because of all of the clone pilots, so you had often been confined to the hangar and playing maintenance.

With the rise of the Empire, you lost your job completely. Your supervisor had been very apologetic when he canceled your contract, claiming that the Imperial Army couldn’t afford mechanics of your caliber. And then, privately, he told you that the new policies barred women from being pilots.

At the time, you had been incensed.

Even with the nice payout you got for them breaking your contract.

It was a stroke of good fortune that you were snatched up by the Alderaanian Military as soon as the contract was canceled. And, as it happens, the Alderaanian Military to Rebel Alliance pipeline is very real.

That is how you met Crosshair, and his kid sister, Omega.

As you understand it, Crosshair’s chip never activated when the Purge began (and wasn’t that a trip and a half to learn, that all of the clones had control chips in their brains that would overwrite their freewill), but all of his brothers did, and Crosshair had been forced to run with Omega when his older brother tried to kill them.

He doesn’t like talking about it. But Omega can be bribed with the right candy or food, and she’s happy to talk about how she came to be a part of the Rebellion.

From the start, you and Crosshair were often paired up. The best pilot in the Rebellion partnered up with the best Sniper in the Rebellion. Your job is to get him in and out of hard to reach places, and his job is to keep you safe.

It’s really no surprise that you got close.

Long nights, alone, with nothing to do but get to know each other. Long conversations about anything and everything.

You’re not surprised that you fell into bed with him. It was inevitable, really.

You are surprised you developed feelings for him.

And, if you’re a little disappointed that he seems happy with the friends with benefits situationship and doesn’t want more…well, that’s okay too. Your feelings are valid, so long as you don’t make them his problem.

But, all of this is a problem for later.

Now, you need to try and figure out how to make your ship space faring with no engines and only one wing.

Easy.

Crosshair leans back on the rock he’s sitting on, his gaze locked on his Kitten as she scurries from one side of the ship to the other. Odds are, the ship is a total loss. But it’s better to let her come to that decision.

There’s the sound of a speeder approaching from behind, and Crosshair turns as an Imperial Speeder comes to a stop several yards away. “Kriff.” He stands and turns as three men climb out of the speeder.

“Everything alright here?”

Crosshair folds his arm over his chest as he realizes that these men are vod’e, “We had something of an incident.” He replies as he gestures to the ship.

“So I see.” The man pulls off his helmet. He’s older, clearly, with a full beard. He looks exhausted, and injured. “Names Mayday,” He casts his gaze to the ship, “That your pilot?”

“Yup.” Crosshair winces when he hears a yelp.

“I’m okay!” She calls from the top of the ship, “Just an ice patch.”

“Enough!” Crosshair turns to the ship, “Enough, Kitten. You’re not going to be able to repair the ship. Get down before you kill yourself.”

She stands on the ledge of the ship, her hands on her hips, “How dare you! I am the mistress of the land, sea, sky, and space! I will make my baby space worthy again!”

“Yeah? Where are you going to pull another wing from? Your ass?”

She scowls at him, “I…am working on it.”

“Spunky.” Mayday murmurs, “Miss,” He calls up, “The temperature is about to drop. We can’t let you stay out here overnight.”

“It’s fine! I can stay on the ship.” She calls.

“Son of a kriffing-” Crosshair steps closer to the ship, “If I have to come up there after you, I will throw you off the ship.”

She pauses, as if considering her options for a moment, and then her shoulders slump, “Fine.” Carefully she climbs down, and hops on the emergency ramp, allowing herself to slide down to the ground. “But, I want you to know that I’m agreeing under protest.”

“Noted.” Crosshair offers her his hands and she takes them, allowing him to hoist her to her feet.

“Pilots are the same all over,” Mayday notes with an amused smile, “Hop in the back. We’ll go back to our base.”

“Come on, Kitten, in you get.”

“But, my tools.”

“I promise that no one here is going to steal your tools.” Crosshair says with a roll of his eyes, “I don’t think there’s anyone to steal your tools.” He ushers her to the speeder and helps her climb into the back.

“Yeah, but you don’t know that! They were a gift from Queen Organa-!”

“If someone steals them, I will personally replace them. Sit down!”

She huffs and drops into a seat, her arms folded, and Crosshair folds himself next to her. Finally pulling his helmet off and dropping it onto her lap. “Hold this.”

She wraps her arms around his helmet, “Your hair is all messed up. I told you the tail was a bad idea. You should have gone with a knot.”

“Yeah, well, when it grows out enough I will.” Crosshair leans back slightly.

Mayday climbs in the back of the speeder, his gaze locked on Crosshair, “I should have pegged you for a vod.” He notes, “I thought the voice was familiar.” He glances at her, and Crosshair shifts, using his body to shield her a little bit, “You stationed on Alderaan?”

She leans forward, “Senator Organa requested several clones to come to Alderaan,” She says brightly, “Cross, here, often gets stuck on bodyguard duty.”

“Yeah, because the last time you tried to use a blaster you nearly shot your foot off.”

“I don’t recall that.” She sniffs, “Anyway, I often get tasked with transporting medicine to different planets, anti-venoms and the like, so I get my own personal bodyguard.”

Mayday looks concerned, “Do you have anything like that on you right now?”

“Nope. We were on our way back after a delivery.” She smiles at him brightly.

“Well that’s something.” The speeder starts, and Crosshair nudges her back, “We don’t have a lot of space, so the pair of you are going to have to share.”

“That’s fine. It’s my preference, honestly.” Crosshair says with a shrug, “Not that I don’t trust you, but-”

“But you don’t trust us.” Mayday says with a nod, “I understand.”

The speeder falls silent, and Crosshair’s gaze flickers to the side when his Kitten leans her head against his shoulder, her gaze distant as she trails her fingers over the paint on his helmet. If he has to guess, she’s thinking of what she needs to repair her ship.

He nudges her gently, and her gaze flickers up to his face, and she flashes a small smile before she bumps him back. “I’m okay.”

“Never had any doubt otherwise.” Crosshair replies.

“It won’t be long until we’re back at base,” Mayday says, “You can just relax.”

And true to his word, the Speeder pulls up to the base less than fifteen minutes later.

Mayday leads them to a small room, “Sorry. There’s only one bed, but there’s a cot in the closet.” He says as he opens the door, “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask. We don’t have much, but what we do have, it’s yours to share.”

Crosshair frowns, and he glances at his Kitten, judging by the frown on her face, she sees the same thing as him. “Commander,” She says, “I can’t help but notice that there aren’t many people here.” It’s a question disguised as a comment.

“Well, the Empire hasn’t been sending us supplies, and…” Mayday pauses, and laughs bitterly, “We’re the only ones left.”

“I’m sorry.” She says softly.

“Don’t be.” Mayday replies, “It’s hardly your fault.” He glances between the pair, and then turns, “Have a good night.”

And then they’re alone, and Crosshair turns to his kitten, “Shirt off, Kitten. I need to check your injuries.” He says as he pulls his armor off and sets it next to the door.

She frowns at him, but crosses the room to the bed, and pulls her winter gear off, and then she pulls her shirt off. Crosshair hisses when he sees the dark angry bruises crisscrossing her body.

He walks over to her, and lightly trails a finger down a bruise, “Looks painful.”

“Better bruises than a concussion.” She replies lightly, a small smile on her lips. “Are you okay?”

“Better bruises than a concussion,” Crosshair mimics, a smile crossing his face as well. His hand comes up to cup her cheek, “We’ll be okay. I’m sure we can borrow a ship.”

She frowns, “I’m worried, Cross. The men here will die if we don’t do anything. And Commander Mayday’s injuries-”

“We’ll handle it.” He interrupts as he presses his thumb against her lips, “We always do.”

She presses a light kiss to his thumb and, for a moment, Crosshair melts.

“I was thinking,” He murmurs, “That this might be a good time to talk. We’ve been…avoiding it.”

“I’m listening.”

“About us. About our relationship.”

She tilts her head, “You mean our complicated situationship?” She teases, using the words that other members of the Rebellion use to describe the pair of you.

Crosshair leans in and bumps his forehead against hers, “It’s not that complicated.”

“They disagree.”

Crosshair rolls his eyes, “Of course they do.” He pauses, “And it occurs to me that, maybe, you might be on the same page as them.”

She frowns, “I’m content with how we are, Cross.”

He scans her face, “I don’t doubt it. But you’re not happy with it either.” Tellingly, her gaze flickers to the side. She’s always been shit at lying to him. “You want more.”

“I’ll take whatever you can give me.” She corrects.

“Oh, kitten,” He sighs softly, and traces her lower lip with his thumb, “I…care about you. A lot.”

“I know.”

“You don’t.” She blinks at him, surprised. “I’m used to people not wanting me, be it the Regs…or my own brothers.” There’s something bitter in his voice and she reaches up to stroke his cheek.

“It’s not their fault, Cross. The chips-”

“Hunter swears that their chips were removed.” Crosshair says quietly, “And they still tried to kill me.”

“I…they were lying. Probably. Maybe.”

Crosshair smiles at her, “You’ve always wanted me around. Have I ever told you how much I appreciate it?”

“Well, not in so many words.” She replies, “But I know. You tell me in all of the ways you make sure that I’m safe.”

“I should do better.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“You deserve better.” Crosshair corrects himself, and she doesn’t answer him for a moment, something thoughtful on her face.

“Crosshair, where is this going?” She finally asks.

“I want you to be mine. And I want to be yours.” Crosshair says, “No more flirting with other people. No more dates with other men. Just you and me.”

She exhales slowly, “...yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A bright smile crosses her face, “I want that too.”

With that, Crosshair crashes his lips against hers. Sure, they’re still trapped here, for now, but he can’t bring himself to care about that when he finally has her. Really and truly has her, in the way that he’s wanted for months now.

He has faith that she’ll come up with a way to get them off this planet and back to the Rebellion. But, until she does, he’ll just have to entertain himself with her.

#star wars #tbb #star wars au #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic

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