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thirstyforcharacters · 4 years ago

Text

Tequila (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: Every person has a soulmate. When your soulmate experiences pain, so do you, and any bruises, scars, or other markings that they get appear on your skin. Or, the story of how aliens attacking Las Vegas was the best thing to ever happen to you.

Notes: Hello! I already did a very similar soulmate AU for Sam Wilson (which you can read here), but I love soulmate AU’s so much that I decided to do one for Bucky, too! Hopefully, I made them different enough that they don’t seem too repetitive. Did I write this while I was supposed to be watching a documentary on Bach for music history? Maybe. But I think this was a much better use of my time. Hope you enjoy! (no y/n, no pronouns)

Warnings: canon typical violence, alien invasion, blood (not too much tho), car crash

WC: 1.9 k

For all of your life, you couldn’t feel your left arm.

When you started to crawl, your parents noticed you only used your right arm to pull yourself forward while your left would hang limply at your side. Your parents brought you to the doctor, deeply concerned, but when she examined your arm, she found nothing wrong. No x-rays showed broken or deformed bones, and no MRI’s showed any problems in the brain. By all medical standards, you should be able to move your left arm. You just couldn’t. Everyone hoped that it would go away, but to their chagrin, it remained unmoving throughout your childhood. You obviously knew your arm was there since you could clearly see it, but you couldn’t feel the nerve endings inside it. When you poked your arm with your other finger, you felt absolutely nothing. And weirdly enough, your family said it was always cold to the touch, no matter how warm the rest of your body was.

You had a feeling that it had something to do with your soulmate, and when you reached adulthood (specifically around 24), you were almost positive that was the reason. You often woke up with random injuries that you knew you didn’t give yourself. Gunshot wounds, deep slashes, broken bones, and large bruises were commonly branded on your skin. You were positive that if your soulmate was getting shot at every other night, then they almost definitely had some sort of damage done to their arm that affected your own. But if they had had this condition since you were born, how old were they? That was always a question that kind of weirded you out. You didn’t particularly want to be “meant to be” with some wrinkly, old person! Especially if they were somehow getting themselves into this much trouble. And now that you thought about it, none of these injuries were on your (or their) left arm. How could that be if they’ve literally been hurt everywhere else on their body?

When you weren’t in and out of the hospital with randomly serious injuries, you were quite busy cooking up a storm in Turkey, Tacos, and Tequila, your restaurant in Las Vegas. You and your best friend, Nicolás, had opened it three years ago; you were the head chef and he ran the business side of things. The two of you had talked about opening a restaurant together since you were teenagers, so both of you had moved to Vegas together after college/culinary school. Together, you found that you were an unstoppable team, and within a year of opening, you were one of the most popular restaurants throughout all of Vegas! Most times, because you were so busy, your soulmate problem stayed in the back of your mind. But every once in a while, a bruise would appear on your eye or a large cut down the length of your leg, and you would be reminded again.

Nic, as you called him, already found his soulmate. Oliver had moved in with you a year ago, and joined you side by side in the kitchen. You became almost as close with him as you had with Nic. They were adorable together, and never made you feel like the third wheel. There were some times, though, where you found yourself a little bit jealous that they had found each other so quickly, and that neither of them had ever suddenly started bleeding all over a nearly complete order of mango fish tacos.

Whenever you got a little down about it, Nic would always clap you on the shoulder and say, “You’ll find them someday. And when you do, break their nose. They deserve it for the hell they’re accidentally putting you through.”

It never failed to make you laugh. You had half a mind to do just that when you met the love of your life. You just didn’t know when that would be.

On yet another hot and dry Nevada night, you were closing up at the restaurant (or morning, you supposed, since it was nearly 1 am). Nic, Oliver, and your other employees had gone home already, so it was only you that remained. You turned off the lights and locked the door. You pushed your way through the drunken crowds and tourists on the street and made your way to your car. As you were opening the door, you could hear gasps of shock coming from the crowd of people roaming the streets. You looked up and saw an eerie flash of green across the sky, and a strange-looking, portal appeared in the sky! Shrieks of fear permeated the air as grotesque, reptilian creatures began spilling from the portal.

Frantically, you flung yourself into your car and turned over the engine, hoping to escape the clutches of these aliens. Though your apartment was in the opposite direction of the portal, as per usual, there was a decent amount of traffic, so you weren’t sure how good your chances were. But you figured you’d at least be safer in your car than exposed outside of it.

You were able to pull into traffic and weave through it fairly well, making good use of the side streets that only the locals knew about. But the creatures were overtaking the city faster than you could drive. You knew you didn’t have long before they caught up with you.

Just when that thought popped into your head, a blinding flash of light appeared in your rearview mirror. A loud bang, almost like a cannon, sounded, and through your mirror, you saw a truck hurtling toward you at breakneck speed! You attempted to swerve out of the way, but the truck crashed into your car, shoving it against a street light! The driver’s side of your car crumpled against the lamppost, and the glass in your window shattered at the contact. You attempted to cover your face with your hands, but a piece of glass still managed to make a pretty deep cut above your left eye, as well as a few pieces of shrapnel sinking into your legs. The whiplash from the contact damaged your neck as well; pain spread throughout your neck and back. All you could do was sob in agony. You had never felt this much pain in your life.

Your hand was trembling as you unbuckled your seatbelt, but you found yourself unable to leave your car! The driver’s side door was crushed, the truck was smushed against your passenger door, and there was no way you would be able to climb out of the backseat, nor lift yourself out of the broken window with the injuries you sustained. You were trapped. You waited for a little bit, until some of the chaos surrounding you died down; even in your damaged state, you knew that no one would be able to hear you even if you screamed for help as loudly as you could.

You strained your ears, and were able to hear gunfire, commands being shouted, and the hissing of these reptilian creatures. Eventually, instead of the noise of a battle, you could hear voices trying to dig people out of the rubble. Somehow, they sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place how. Well, if they were rescuing people, you figured they were your only chance.

“Help,” you screamed, “I’m trapped in my car! Please help me!”

You heard footsteps sprinting in your direction and a voice call, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of there!”

You watched in amazement as the truck on your passenger’s side was surrounded by a glowing, red presence, and moved out of the way! It had to be the Avengers! Who else would be able to do something that crazy? You were brought out of your thoughts by your car being dragged away from the pole, making you jump. A face popped up in your shattered window. He was gorgeous; bright, blue eyes, short, chestnut hair, and a warm smile. He took hold of the broken door and wrenched it from its fastenings.

“Hi. My name is Bucky Barnes. This is Wanda Maximoff,” the man said, gesturing back to a woman wearing scarlet, “we’re going to get you out of here, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, relieved, “thank you so much!”

He smiled again, “Oh, it’s no problem. You should probably stay there until the EMT’s get here. Moving might make your injuries even worse.”

You nodded slightly in reply, but the pull in your neck made you groan in pain.

He winced, “Try not to move that, either. You may not be bleeding there, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Okay.”

“Here, let me help you with that. I can at least stop the bleeding,” he offered, gesturing to your forehead and leg.

“Oh, thank you!” you answered.

He nodded and reached for some bandages he had in his jacket with his metal arm. His left arm. Suddenly, you noticed things you didn’t notice before. He also had a large cut above his left eye, in the same spot as your injury. It wasn’t bleeding, though, perhaps because of his enhancements. You noticed him moving his neck in a circular motion, seemingly to stretch it out. He had holes in his pants and small puncture wounds on his legs, in the same spots where glass was sticking out of you. Again, though, they were already healing. Could that be why you had never felt your arm before? Because your soulmate’s was metal? It would make complete sense.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t even realize you had zoned out until Bucky addressed you. He was gently cleaning the wound on your forehead.

“Yes,” you whispered, fixated on the wound on his forehead.

His eyebrow raised, “Are you sure? You seem a little out of it.”

“I-I’m fine. I just noticed something kind of strange. I think the cut on your forehead matches mine.”

He touched his forehead, “Oh, yeah, I forgot about that with the adrenaline and everything. Only got it maybe 20 minutes ago.”

“That’s when my car crashed. And you’re having neck pain, like me,” you murmured, “and your arm is metal. I’ve never been able to feel my arm.”

His eyes widened, “Really? You think we’re meant to be?”

“Maybe,” you replied.

He nodded, “It seems likely. What’s your name?”

You gave him your name and he smiled again.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a century.”

You giggled softly, “I guess that explains why I’ve been experiencing this since I was born. I was afraid you’d be gross and wrinkly.”

He chuckled, “Well, hopefully you don’t think I’m either of those things.”

“Definitely not.”

The EMT’s arrived then. Bucky stepped aside and the medics removed you from your car.

As you were being loaded into the ambulance, Bucky approached you.

“How can I get in contact with you after this?”

“Just come by Turkey, Tacos, and Tequila. It’s my restaurant, I’m almost always there,” you told him.

“Okay. I’ll drop by sometime soon, when you’re better of course.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

As he was walking away, you couldn’t stop the grin forming on your lips. Sure, what had happened to you today was terrible. But you knew you would heal, and now, you had also finally met your soulmate. No wonder why you were randomly injured all of the time! If today was any indicator of what the rest of your relationship would look like, though, you’d probably need all of that tequila you were selling for yourself.

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #Bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #Bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky barnes fic #winter soldier fluff #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier fic #x reader #x reader fanfiction #x reader fic #x reader fluff #soulmate au

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beauregardlionett · 4 years ago

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i think i might understand the concept of home

AO3 Link

Yasha’s car had broken down on the side of the road in some tiny town she only meant to pass through. She hadn’t even read the welcome sign half-a-mile back, so gods knew where she was. Thankfully, there was a shoulder and a sidewalk, so she wasn’t stuck in the middle of traffic. She had the hood popped and stared helplessly down at the tangle of mechanics she did not understand.

Nothing was smoking, so she figured that must be a good thing.

“Need a hand?”

Yasha glanced up, catching sight of a woman standing just outside the coffee shop Yasha broke down in front of. She stood defined in the sunlight, composed of sharp lines and lean muscle, contained by planes of smooth, coffee-colored skin. She had on a simple grey sports bra under denim overalls littered with stains and distressed patches torn in random places on the legs. Her hair was in a low bun sat over what looked like an undercut all tucked messily beneath a backward cap.

Damn...she was hot.

The woman cocked an expectant eyebrow, reminding Yasha she had yet to answer.

“Oh, um...yes?”

Hot Lady smirked and stepped off the curb to stand at Yasha’s shoulder, leaning over the open hood and inspecting the mess. Yasha was busy inspecting the tanned slope of neck to bare shoulder, all of her quite a sight in the midday sunlight.

Gods, was that a tattoo on her back?

With abrupt yet easy precision, Hot Lady hauled herself up onto the lip of Yasha’s truck and shoved her hand between various pieces of metal. Startled, Yasha looked down at the engine, hoping she wouldn’t have to call emergency services for a hand lost in her car engine.

“The alternator might be shot,” Hot Lady said, squinting as she moved her hand around a little.

“What does that mean?” Yasha managed, only a little strangled.

“Means you need to get your car into a shop because you aren’t going to have much luck getting far without it.” Hot Lady removed her hand and gave a little hop back down to the pavement. She wiped her hand carelessly on her overalls and shrugged a little.

“It’s not a super challenging thing to fix, but it will take a minute. I can point you to a good garage if you need.”

“That would be very helpful. Thank you...um...”

“Beauregard,” the woman said, sticking out her hand with a grin. “Call me Beau.”

After hesitating a moment, Yasha grasped Beau’s hand and gave it a tentative shake, cheeks warm. Her face flushed even warmer when Beau raised her eyebrow again, clearly waiting for Yasha’s name.

“Yasha,” she blurted, horrid awkwardness muddying her chest. “I’m Yasha.”

“Nice to meet you, Yasha,” Beau said as she slowly took her hand back. Yasha already like the way her name sounded rolling off of Beau’s tongue - perhaps far too much for someone she just met.

“You might need to shack up somewhere for the night,” Beau said, pulling her phone from her pocket and texting someone. “Depending on how long the garage takes with your car. I haven’t seen you ‘round here before. You got a place to stay?”

“Oh...no,” Yasha managed. “I’m just passing through.”

“Well, I texted my buddy over at the garage to come get your car. He’ll be here soon. There’s only one hotel in this town, and to be honest, it sucks. My buddy Caleb moved most of his stuff out of his apartment, but he hasn’t turned the lease over yet. He got a big wig job two hours from here and they had him start early, despite the fact he still had a month on the lease. You can crash there if you want. I’m pretty sure he left his mattress.”

Yasha blinked, dazed and flabbergasted at the turn this conversation had taken.

“I...what?”

Beau looked up from her phone, fingers pausing in their rapid texting. She seemed to take in Yasha’s stunned expression and grimaced slightly.

“Sorry, that was a lot all at once.” Beau tucked her phone away and crossed her arms over her chest. Yasha recognized the defensive tactic attempting to look casual with ease. She performed that move often enough herself.

“This ‘helping’ thing isn’t my forte - more Jess’ thing. But uh...yeah. If you need a place to stay, you’ve got one. Promise there're no strings attached or anything like that.”

“But...you don’t know me.”

“True,” Beau shrugged. “But it’s not like there’s anything to steal from Caleb’s place. It’s basically an empty apartment he’s not getting anything out of. Might as well put the place to good use.”

“Okay,” Yasha said after a moment of strange quiet. What else was she supposed to say?

Beau blinked up at Yasha, then grinned, wide and delighted. “Cool.”

A few minutes later, a tow truck pulled up. Beau greeted the driver enthusiastically as Yasha watched on, wondering what she had gotten herself into.

“This is it,” Beau said, shoving open the door with her hip as she wrestled the key out of the lock.

Yasha followed Beau in, fingers curled tightly around the strap of her meager duffle bag. The apartment was near barren, as Beau had said. It had a small living area that faded seamlessly into a kitchenette. Down a short hallway appeared to be a bedroom and bathroom, both doors open. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The only sign someone had recently been occupying the space was the old mattress just visible through the bedroom door and the sagging sofa in the living room.

“Sorry there’s no food in the kitchen, but there’s a store about a block from here if you’re up for a walk. I’d hang around but I have to get to a class.”

Yasha twisted to look at Beau, something bubbling up in her chest that felt a lot like gratitude and a little like something indescribable. She watched as Beau fiddled with her key ring, only realizing what was happening when Beau pulled a key off and tossed it to Yasha. She just barely managed to catch it and not make a fool of herself.

“That’s the key to the door for ya. And,” Beau pulled a crumpled, folded piece of paper from her pocket, holding it out to Yasha. “My number, in case you have questions or you need anything. I’m a night owl and an early riser, so chances are I’ll answer whenever.”

“Thank you,” Yasha warbled after a long moment, clutching the key so hard the grooves of its identity imprinted into her palm. The notches stung like she would never forget their shape. “I mean it. This is...a lot.”

Beau rubbed the back of her neck, scuffing the toe of her sneaker against the worn floorboards. “It’s nothin’ really...”

“No,” Yasha insisted. “It’s a lot. Thank you.”

Beau’s gaze met Yasha’s intense stare, her bright blue eyes wide as they took in Yasha’s sincerity. A handful of seconds stretched into eternity before Beau ducked her head, rubbing at the back of her neck.

“Yeah...sure.”

Yasha was getting the impression she wasn’t the only one completely out of her depth in this situation.

“I’ll come around tomorrow with updates...bye.”

Yasha watched her duck out the door, disappearing down the hallway before she shut the door behind Beau and clicked the lock.

The garage had Yasha’s car fixed and ready to go after two days. Yasha was still in town three months later.

In all honesty, she’s not sure how it happened.

The night she planned to leave, Beau had swung by and insisted on seeing her off. They ended up at a diner, tucked into a booth, talking like they actually knew each other. Next thing Yasha realized, it was nearing midnight, and they were being asked to wrap up so the diner could close. The chef had called to them from the window, an older looking man with bright pink hair who gave Beau a knowing look and a wink.

Somehow, that unplanned extra night turned into months. Yasha had taken on the lease from the absent Caleb for his apartment. She found a job at the local florist, a job she quietly enjoyed. The gravity of her situation only set in after she bought sheets for the mattress.

She met Jess - real name Jester, or Genevieve, but Yasha couldn’t sure - a bubbly girl with deep blue hair and the sweetest attitude ever. Her fingertips were permanently paint stained, and she left hastily sketched dicks everywhere she went. Yasha also met the tow truck driver from the first day, a guy named Fjord. They were a weird mix of individuals, but somehow they got on just fine. They ate dinner together every Thursday night at the same bar owned by the guy who tended the bar - one of those small town things. His name was Mollymauk - Molly for short and sometimes they instead of he - with inordinately purple hair and makeup to match.

Yasha never really spent a lot of time in her apartment. She didn’t see the point, not when she had access to the florist shop, or the diner, or anywhere else with Jess, Fjord, Molly, or Beau. Especially not when Jess’ apartment she shared with Fjord was so much warmer, much more like a home.

It took three months before Beau stopped mid-sentence of a story and blinked at Yasha over their pancakes in the diner.

“This is probably a stupid question, but did you have somewhere to be?”

Yasha looked up, confused. “Right now? Uh...no? My shift at the shop doesn’t start for another three hours.”

“No, no, I meant like outside this town. You told me you were passing through, before.”

“Oh,” Yasha set down her fork and looked out the window. Her chest felt tight. That afternoon seemed like a lifetime ago - a whole other person ago. “Not really.”

“Do...uhm,” Yasha looked over at Beau to find her pushing her food around her plate awkwardly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

This was difficult for both of them. If Yasha had learned anything in her time here, it was that they both struggled to convey their emotions eloquently. But that Beau tried meant everything to Yasha. The least she could do was meet her halfway.

“I was running, and I didn’t know where or when I would stop. But I guess this place is where I’m meant to be.”

“Why were you running?” Beau stared at her, gaze intense in a way Yasha found endearing. She watched like nothing else in the world could distract her.

“I...I had a wife. And I lost her rather abruptly almost six months ago. I tried to stay for a while, to keep what we had built together, but I wasn’t strong enough. So I ran and hoped that I would find something worth staying for again before I fell off the world.”

Beau stared at Yasha openly over their half-eaten breakfast, eyes wide.

“You stayed here. Does that mean you found something here?”

Yasha looked at Beau, at her messy bun and her undercut that needed a fresh shave. She took in the puddle of syrup, slowly saturating Beau’s pancakes and the half gone pile of bacon. Beau’s cellphone sat face down on the table so her attention stayed on Yasha. She realized the baggy sweater Beau had on was one Yasha had misplaced almost a month ago. Yasha lost her breath at the butterflies that fluttered to life in her stomach.

“I think so,” Yasha breathed, tethered and unhinged all at once.

They didn’t talk about it, because of course they didn’t.

But two weeks after their pancake conversation, Beau invited Yasha out for a night on the town. There were only two bars with decent night life here, and Yasha had been to both of them exactly once during her time here. (The daytime trips to Molly’s bar didn’t count, of course. She had only been to their bar for the night life once.)

She met Beau in the middle, and they walked together the rest of the way.

Beau had gotten her undercut shaved tight again, but it was hidden with the way her hair spilled loose and long down her back. She had a cobalt lace crop top on - the one with the built-in bra. The way it showed off the definition of her muscles was doing things to Yasha. The black cigarette pants didn’t help either.

A few drinks and way too many EDM songs later - or maybe only a few? Yasha couldn’t tell them apart - Yasha remained upright from adrenaline alone. Somewhere between the drinks and the beat of the music, Beau pressed up against Yasha, wiry arms winding around Yasha’s neck as they danced. Yasha wasn’t much of a dancer in any regard, but she was just tipsy enough to not care.

Beau’s hips fit comfortably in the space between Yasha’s hands, and Yasha resolutely tried not to follow that train of thought. For no other reason than she didn’t want to ruin a good thing, and there was no way Beau felt the same.

Beau pushed onto her toes, shiny black boots creasing with the motion as her lace top rode up her enticing torso.

“I really want to kiss you,” Beau called over the heavy thrum of the base. Her voice nearly got lost in the din, but Yasha heard her. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t. The weight of her heart dropping into her stomach hit too heavy and real to ignore.

Fuck, she wanted to kiss Beau, too.

Yasha’s t-shirt stuck to random parts of her torso with sweat, a detail she was now hyper-aware of with how little space existed between her and Beau. The press of bodies around them was abruptly unnerving. So much so, Yasha wound an arm around Beau’s shoulders and steered them both free, ducking into the hallway that lead to the bathrooms as Yasha gasped for air.

Beau leaned her back against the wall for support, peering at Yasha with far too much clarity for someone who could barely stand upright.

“Are you okay, Yash?” Her voice was quieter now that they had moved out of the main bar, but the base still pounded like a heartbeat through the floorboards.

With more confidence than Yasha would ever possess in her life, she caged Beau in, a hand on either side of her head against the wall. As Beau stared up at her with unabashed awe, Yasha’s face warmed with flushed embarrassment.

“I want to kiss you so bad.”

“Then do it,” Beau said. It sounded like a dare, but she said it as if she were asking permission.

With a quick swoop into Beau’s space, Yasha pressed her lips to Beau’s with the barest amount of pressure. A feather-light, electric brush of a promise, a question, and an invitation. Yasha moved no closer.

Beau leaned in, and as far as kisses went, it was simple. Neither of them surged toward the other, or grappled for purchase to deepen the embrace. It was an easy press of lips, testing the waters despite the alluring tug of the tide.

Tipsy seconds later, Beau pulled back first with a soft gasp. Yasha’s eyes fluttered open, and she felt like a cheesy teenager when she realized they had closed without her knowledge.

“Do you want to do this?” Beau asked, voice soft and a little wrecked despite the chaste kiss.

Yasha, never one for many words, gave a quick nod and ducked back in. It wasn’t confidence, more like the beginning of a realization.

Beau held onto her, this time hands back around Yasha’s neck and fingers tangled deep in Yasha’s wild hair. Yasha took one hand from the wall to cup the back of Beau’s head, fingers sliding easily over the short hairs of Beau’s undercut.

It wasn’t a fireball kiss, but it tasted like the whiskey shots they had done half an hour ago. Beau’s lips were soft and a stark contrast to the way she kissed Yasha. It wasn’t falling stars and fire lit in her chest, nor was it a cosmic shift of puzzle pieces snapping into place. As before, it was a realization, a revelation of something that might have been there for a while.

Beau kissed Yasha back, and she thought about pancakes at the diner and memorizing the way Beau’s eyes scrunched when she laughed. Yasha rubbed her thumb over Beau’s jawline and Beau’s sharp grin burst to life behind her eyelids. A tug to Yasha’s hair reminded her of Beau offering to braid Yasha’s messy locks every time they all slept at Jess’ place. Beau licked into Yasha’s mouth and all at once, Yasha pictured her apartment. She saw the walls she had kept carefully bare, the sheets she had bought, but no other furniture. The echoing emptiness of a place abandoned for a better chance, and inhabited by the echo of who Yasha used to be.

And what did people say about echoes being louder in empty rooms?

Beau kissed Yasha, and Yasha realized she didn’t want to be an echo anymore.

Beau made her feel solid in a way that was undemanding. She merely held out her hand and asked for the pieces of Yasha that were real, the parts she was willing to share. She helped Yasha make them into a complete picture.

Yasha kissed Beau back with all the gentle strength she could muster through the weight of her epiphany and the whiskey.

This time, Yasha knew she found something worth staying for.

#cr #critical role #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha #writing #my writing

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charmandhex · 5 years ago

Note

32- “Your eyes are red… Were you crying?” with magnus and another character of your choice? :3

It took me a while, buuuuuuuut I’m gonna blame the election!

CW for death mention, food mention.

Magnus doesn’t know what day it is when he wakes up. Well, really, that knowledge is long gone since they’re 33 planar systems deep into a seemingly endless journey, and you can bet Barry’s blue jeans that each and every one of ‘em had had a different calendar. And there’s been a lot going on so far in Cycle 33, so you can’t exactly blame Magnus for not figuring out how the local lunar calendar works when there are 17 moons orbiting this planet.

So Magnus, being Magnus, sits up and jabs a finger right at his eye. Ow. Shit. Yep, still bruised. So, two weeks, give or take. Magnus may not be the smartest boy on the ship, but he’s become pretty familiar with how long black eyes take to heal.

Two weeks. That’s not a lot of time to already be down two crew members.

Of course Merle’s gone already, having blustered and protested that he wasn’t needed now and that he needed to go into his next meeting with John with his memories of the last one fresh and sharp. Which, in Magnus’s not-so-humble opinion, is stupid. And he misses their shitty cleric. But at least Merle had been… somewhat expected.

Taako though.

It had looked safe. And they’d all been on their guard anyway. And Cap’n’port is a good leader. And Taako is a good wizard. Magnus is head of security. What good is he?

Magnus gets up and starts to pace. He’s learned a lot, and he’s learned that yeah, sometimes action is better than sticking around and thinking. Or at least sticking around and stewing in those thoughts.

Magnus’s room is too small for good pacing, but there’s a solution for that: Magnus rushes out. Down the hallway, past Lucretia’s room, past Barry’s room, up the stairs, past Cap’n’port’s quarters, onto the bridge, wide loop around the bond engine, around to the kitchen, down the hall, down the stairs again, past the med bay and Merle’s sad plants and empty room, quick right turn, around the boxes in storage, into the hallway once more, past Lup’s room… Magnus slows down and comes to a stop in front of the door to Taako’s room.

The twins had each been given their own room per some protocol Magnus can’t remember but Barry could probably recite in a heartbeat, but more often than not you’d find both in one room, switching back and forth between the two depending on whoever’s room had better lighting or fewer shoes in it at the time. On impulse, Magnus knocks at the door one-two-three, before reaching for the door handle.

Lup jolts up from where she’s been sitting hunched over on Taako’s unmade bed. At once, Magnus draws back, flustered.

“Oh, uh… h-hey, Lup.”

“Hey, Mango,” Lup says, her voice a little scratchier than normal. “Good thing T to the double A-K-O didn’t have any booby traps up and running when he… Anyway, uh, yeah, what- what’s up?”

Magnus lingers, debating, before stepping further in. “Just, uh, you know… thinking.”

Lup’s mouth quirks into a smile. “Doesn’t sound much like your style, Mags.”

“Now hold on!” The disquiet sitting heavy in Magnus’s chest is, for the moment, pushed to the side in favor of indignation. “I do plenty of thinking!”

“Yeah, about how to sneak dogs on the ship.” Lup gestures at the bed beside her, an invitation.

“That counts!” Magnus retorts before sitting next to Lup with a huff, turning to stick his tongue out at her. She looks away, and Magnus frowns, looking closer. “Your eyes are red… were you crying?”

“H-huh?” Lup stammers, still determinedly not looking at Magnus. “Nope! No way! No crying over here, just you know, 420 blaze it, let’s gooooooooo.”

Magnus blows out a long breath. “Yeah. I miss him too.”

Lup groans, before looking back over. “Magnus, you asshole, couldn’t you have just pretended and asked why I 420 blazed it without you?”

Magnus doesn’t respond, but he opens his arms. Lup moves so fast Magnus could have sworn she cast Blink, and then her arms are tight around him, as though afraid he too might disappear. Lup mumbles something into his shoulder as Magnus hugs her back.

“Sorry, didn’t quite get that.”

Lup turns her head, and an ear whaps across Magnus’s face. “I said¸ you and Barry are tied for best hugs.”

“Now that’s a compliment. Think I can stick it under proficiencies?”

“Yeah, with the other 500.” Lup lets out a shaky sigh and hugs tighter onto Magnus. “Taako gives shitty hugs.”

“He does not!”

“Magnus, he’s my brother, and he is my heart, but he manages to get like eight elbows in despite only having two of them. Half of the melee attacks he’s ever made have been accidentally headbutting people hugging them.” Another breath. “And most importantly. He’s not even here for his stupid, shitty hugs.”

Magnus waits even as Lup’s stifled shuddering sobs manage to shake him too, and he waits longer still, the heavy silence in the room finally stretching into something resembling peace.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. S’not your fault though.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Is not!” Lup says, pushing back, fiery and indignant once more even with grief and pain still carved into her face. “Magnus Burnsides, you listen right now. That- what happened, was not your fault, and no one thinks that. I don’t think that. And when Taako gets back, he’s not gonna think that either. Now come on.” Lup lets go of Magnus long enough to scramble off Taako’s bed and up to standing before she grabs his hand.

“Come on… where?”

“I’m making some fuckin’ pancakes, and I need a sous chef,” Lup says, the kind of determination in her tone that regularly keeps them from doing stupid shit.

But what she’s saying is still surprising. Surprising because… “Really? Uh, Lup, you do remember what happened last time-” Last time he’d been banned from the kitchen for two cycles.

“We got it off the ceiling eventually, didn’t we?” Lup waves his protests off. “So, come on. I’ll let you put in as many chocolate chips as you want. And this way, by the time we get my dumb brother back, you’re better at cooking, so he has to get better at hugging.”

Magnus laughs. “Guess I can’t argue with that logic.”

The door swings closed with a quiet click behind them as they go. Less quiet is the Starblaster’s kitchen half an hour or so later, when Magnus and Lup and the rest of the crew are sitting around the table, plates stacked high with mostly unburnt and reasonably uniform pancakes.

And less quiet still than that, is the Starblaster some months and many pancakes later, when, elbows and headbutts aside, Magnus finds himself in a massive hug pile with Taako at the center. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Magnus hears Taako say:

“Hey, uh, quick, quick question: why is there a pancake on the ceiling?”

#taz #taz balance #taz fic #taz fanfic #magnus burnsides #lup #asks #i was thinking about who to write magnus with and lup's joke came to mind #and the end result was i temporarily killed taako #oops time for angst and hurt/comfort #himbotaako

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ollypopwrites · 5 years ago

Note

Okay save this one for a rainy day. But would biker!mando fuck her on the bike? Like parked in an alley way, or drove off into the desert and just started gettin it. 💀

I have been WAITING to answer this one Julia its just *chefs kiss*

Title: Moonlit Ride (Biker!Mando Series Masterlist)

Summary: You had been on the bike before, and the vibration of it had never excited you, but tonight it was different. The low rumble of it beneath you seemed to turn you on, and you were counting down the miles to your destination.

a/n: this takes place sometime after part VII.

Wordcount: 2.4k

warnings: SMUT, public sex, fingering, hints of dom!mando, inappropriate use of spit (PLEASE BUY LUBE), unsafe sex (please use protection).

It was a long ride, and you were getting restless.

There was an innate freedom that came from being on the bike with him, just enough danger balanced out by the fact that you trusted him. He controlled the bike like it was an extension of himself, and you hung on, getting to feel the wind rush around you.

But it was also loud, and there was no way to talk to each other. Your limbs ached to stretch out, and you were bubbling with restless energy.

The long flat road was seemingly endless ahead of you and there had been almost no other cars passing by, so you relaxed your grip a little. Your hands came to rest on his hips instead of wrapping around his middle, and when you leaned forward a bit you dragged them over his thighs.

They were a little tense with the effort he made to keep the motorcycle in his control.

The moon was high overhead, casting a lovely blue-tinged light over everything you could see. In the distance was a shiprock, large enough to be a shadow on the backdrop of the sky and you could make out the reaching towers of stone that gave it its name. Red rock formations broke your current view of flat desert land in increasing consistency as you slowly approached the landmark, signaling that the landscape was changing the further you went. It was a peaceful night and the sound of the bike ripped through the quiet of the empty land. It was almost too still and you needed to do something.

You had been on the bike before, and the vibration of it had never excited you, but tonight it was different. The low rumble of it beneath you seemed to turn you on, and you were counting down the miles to your destination. It was tough, waiting because his back was broad and strong as you rested against him and his thighs were strong under your hands and you needed something to do. You squeezed a little bit as you ran your hands up and down, coming closer to his crotch with every pass.

A little teasing wouldn’t kill either of you, you figured.

There was a tall and wide rock jutting into the air less than a mile off but it was approaching fast with the speed you were taking. Something shifted in Din’s posture when you ran your hands over him yet again, his back tensing and his thighs twitching under your grip.

Your heart skipped a beat when he suddenly veered off of the road and straight towards the rock.

It was a bumpy ride and you changed your grip to hold onto his torso again, this time much tighter as the terrain changed. It was rough now that you were off the asphalt, and the shaking of it made you gasp. There was no panic in his movement however, he guided the bike expertly until the two of you were on the other side of it.

Over the rumble of the bike, you heard him. “Off.”

You were a little worried but you climbed off anyway and took off your helmet to breathe some of the cool fresh air the desert had to offer. He killed the engine and stood it up before he lifted his leg over to get off of it himself.

“Is something wrong?”

The silver of the visor on his helmet caught the glint of the moon when he turned towards you. When he had the helmet on you had to read body language rather than his face, and it was always a little harder for you to figure him out. He was slipping the gloves off of his hands and placing them on the seat of the bike, not looking away from you.

You came a little closer, a bit worried about his sudden stop. “Hey, Din,” you said. “Talk to me, is everything okay?”

“Lean on the bike.”

You acquiesced and looked around. You couldn’t see anything that might be a threat to the two of you, but he must have stopped you for a reason.

“Are you trying to kill us both?” He asked.

“What?”

“Rubbing me like that,” he growled out. “Damn near swerved off the road.”

Your eyebrows raised with a quirk of your lips when you understood what he meant. “I was getting bored.”

“Guess I’ll have to do something about that.”

The helmet was staying on, it seemed, as he approached you. You’d never fucked while he wore the helmet and part of you wanted to see his face, and trail kisses down the column of his neck. But instead, he reached for your shirt, harshly tugging it down so he could grope at your breasts.

It forced a gasp out of you and you immediately looked toward the edge of the rock where a small sliver of the road was still visible. There were no headlights coming your way, and it was still so quiet. You let him do it, pressing your chest out further and you heard the faintest grunt of approval from beneath the helmet.

“Is this what you wanted?” He was asking for permission, but something about how he said it made a tingle tremble down your spine.

Almost as if you shouldn’t like it and he was teasing you about it.

“Yes,” you nodded, licking your lips.

With your tits bare to the cool desert air, your nipples immediately hardened, soothed only by the warmth of his hands as he palmed them. The slight pinch he gave one and then the other made you take in a shuddering breath.

His fingers trailed up, over your throat, and to your lips. You opened up and took two of his fingers in your mouth, sucking and dragging your tongue over them. Din cursed, pressing them a little further in almost as if he was testing how much you would allow.

The restless energy from before paired with this turn of events had you reaching to the button on your pants, undoing it, and then the zipper. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and started to shove them further down your thighs until your bare ass was leaning on the seat.

When he pressed his hand to your cunt you were already starting to get wet for him. It was dark, but you were aware of the open road on the other side of the rocks and the empty land behind you. You wondered if all of this was a bad idea. The idea of getting caught with your ass out on the side of the road was mortifying. But still, you couldn’t help but moan when he rubbed your clit and your hips tipped forward on the bike.

He dipped his still wet fingers inside of you, pumping a few times before coming up to circle around your clit again. You weren’t sure how long he was doing it, you were just hyper-aware of how in the open you were. And there’s was a lack of comfort and warmth from the blankness of the helmet.

There were no brown eyes full of warmth and hunger to soothe you when you looked at him. All you can see is a screwed up reflection of yourself with your legs open on his fucking bike.

The sight of it makes you gasp and he brings his attention to your clit more urgently, rubbing it the way he knows you like which has your hips rolling. It’s too much, the mental combination of the taboo that comes with being so exposed and the way his calloused fingers slide over you -- the friction soothed by a combination of your wetness and spit from his fingers in your mouth.

You came. Hard. Hand over your mouth to keep yourself from making too much noise and gripping onto the leather of his vest with one hand to keep yourself steady. The cool air made how warm your body felt all the more noticeable. Desperate noises left your lips as he rubbed your clit to the point where you thought you might fall off the bike from writhing too much. You choked on air when he pulled his fingers from your clit to roughly push them into your pussy.

The bulge in his jeans was evident even in the dark and he was just watching as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. He liked the way your pussy looked, it was dark and he could only make out so much, but something the about the visual of you spread wide open on his bike made his cock twitch in his jeans.

You were a little dazed when he yanked you up onto your feet and you almost fell over, your pants still around your thighs and limiting your movement.

But you let him guide you to turn around, and there was a gentle push at your middle back until you were bent over the bike and facing the open expanse of desert. You could hear the clink of a belt unbuckling and shortly after the sound a zipper coming undone which gave you all the warning you needed.

A hand appeared in front of you and he said, “spit.”

You were confused at first but you mustered up what you could in your mouth and spit it into the palm of his hand. He began to stroke his dick -- your spit making it wet and slippery enough for him to groan and you cursed out loud when you looked over your shoulder to watch him. When he caught you, his free hand came out to force you to look back at the empty land again.

There was a tense moment where you felt the tip of him pressing against your hole. He pressed in, slow but unrelenting, and you couldn’t help the low moan that emits from you. It was loud in comparison to the stillness around you and you were suddenly too aware of it all. A rustle in some brush not too far off, probably a small animal, bugs chirping and the wind hitting the rock hiding you from view.

He didn’t say much until he was deep enough inside you that you could feel the hair on his thighs tickling your skin. “Couldn’t wait,” he admitted. “Just needed an excuse…”

You could have chuckled at him, playing tough and mean when really he had been just as eager as you. But you were just whining as you leaned against the bike, it felt vulnerable out in the open and somehow that heightened every sensation.

When he started to thrust you sucked in a breath and tried to keep yourself from crying out. The steel grip on your hip hurt a little bit, but he hit every spot inside of you that made you just want to slam your ass back against him. Instead, you were stuck taking what he gave you and arching your back while your nails dug into the seat of the bike.

The slap of skin on skin carried in the open air, and from underneath the helmet, you could hear him grunt with the effort he made. Shamelessly, he fucked you on the side of the road not seeming to give a damn, just enjoying the sight of you bent over his bike.

God, when you thought about it like that, when you looked down the dark road and up at the moon above you felt the excitement in your bones. Filthy, risky and so fucking good.

Your walls started to flutter around him and you put your balance in one hand as you reached down between your legs to play with your clit. He growled his approval and shoved his hips harshly before he stayed still and let you play with yourself until you came around him.

It didn’t take long and as you peaked your whines carried through the still air, your feet dragging against the dirt ground as you lost a bit of your ability to keep yourself upright. It rolled through you hard and fast and thank God for Din’s grip on you or you thought you might collapse.

“G-good girl,” he stuttered out, groaning with the way your cunt squeezed him. “So good for me.”

You twitch again hearing him say that a desperate noise slipping out of your open mouth. Letting him have you out in the open and hearing him tell you how good you were made you feel like your brain had slipped away. He was big inside of you, holding you in place and taking his fill now that you had come. There was a weightlessness and a strange sense of exhilaration that washed over you.

As he got closer you could hear his voice from beneath the motorcycle helmet. His words were muffled so you could only make out every other one. But you knew it was praise. You heard words like ‘soft’ and ‘sweet’ but nothing leading up to them. It was a downside to fucking him with the helmet on but you decided it was worth it given how he fucked you like he was desperate for it.

Soon he cursed, and his grip became bruising as his body hunched over yours. He came, shoving himself deeper as he did and with every harsh thrust you groan into the leather seat. You could hear him panting beneath the helmet, and after a moment his grip loosened.

There was no way to clean you up, but he did help you stand up straight and pull up your pants again. You were holding onto his vest as he righted your clothes, resituating your shirt, and making sure both of you were decent once again. You wanted to kiss him so badly.

“Alright?” He asked.

You nodded your head. He stared for a moment, you couldn’t see his face but you could tell he was looking.

“We’re almost to the hotel,” he told you. “Can you behave yourself until then?”

Did that mean he was going to have you again once you stopped? You swallowed hard and nodded again. Would there be a reward for ‘behaving yourself’?

The entire time you two had stopped no one had passed by, and when you were climbing on the bike behind him again you heard the sound of a car passing on the road. When Din pulled out from behind the rock and started on the road again you kept thinking about how someone could have seen you.

Instead, the only evidence was the mess he had made between your thighs, and you knew you were going to be feeling it for the rest of the ride.

taglist: @himbopoes @mandolovian @hdlynnslibrary @oloreaa @phoenixhalliwell @theocatkov @hopplessdreamer @thisisthe-way @buckstaposition @starlight-starwrites @agingerindenial @bisexual-space-slut @gallowsjoker @shadylightbearherring @teaofpeach @tintinwrites @talesfromtheguild @deliciouslyclassytrash @ben-is-a-hoe @mandilflorian @kiwi-the-first @blue-writes-a03 @sinon36 @66wookies @peachdameron @mstgsmy @luosymekawa @ren-ni @chibi-liz05 @mrsparknuts @seasonschange-butpeopledont @seeking-a-great--perhaps @thatreclusewriter @windfallss @legally-a-bastard @nominalnebula @5secondsofsumaa @the-feckless-wonder @pascalz @mitchi-c @leo-moon @altarsw @panslabyrinthx @huliabitch @luosymekawa @whatthecensoredxd, @laymegentlytorest @imalovernotahater

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian imagine

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wwenhlimagines · 4 years ago

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"Making Love With The Radio On" - Elias Smut

(Part 2 of More Than Anyone)

Warning: smut, curse words

Dedicated to @jazzy-tzw, @team-elias, and other Elias fangirls

Song: Making Love With The Radio On by Gavin Degraw

2 weeks after your period started aka first day of ovulation

Rolling over in bed, your hand lands on the soft sheets instead of your husband's muscular frame. You open one eye and look around the room to see his side of the bed empty and cold. You pout lightly as you reach for your phone to see if he texted you.

"Good morning gorgeous! I've gone out to the gym and then I will go to the store on the way home. See you in a couple hours babygirl! I love you ❤"

You smile to yourself as you text him back. "Good morning handsome! Enjoy your workout babe and come home to me soon 😜 I love you too."

While you have some time to yourself, you take a shower and prep your entire body for the evening with your husband that you have been waiting for. Elias decided he didn't want to "waste the good ones" so he has refused to let you touch him for 2 whole weeks. He seems to be going to the gym more to distract himself and work on his stamina for you. You have also refused to release any stress in that way so both of you are wound up and ready to devour each other. After shaving, moisturizing, and styling your hair, you put on some light makeup and get dressed with Elias's favorite blue lingerie set underneath your outfit. You look over yourself in the mirror before you head out to the living room to relax and watch some tv.

About an hour later, Elias walks into the house with a few bags from the store and sets them in the kitchen before walking over to you. His hand cups your face as he leans down and kisses your lips softly before leaning his forehead against yours. "Well hello there wifey!" You smile and kiss him back "Hi hubby! What have you bought at the store?" He smirks and sits down next to you allowing his right arm to land on the back of the couch and his left hand softly caressing your thigh. "Well, maybe you will find out in a little while, but for now I'm going to start making lunch for us." You give him another kiss before he gets up to prepare lunch.

10 minutes later, you were bored of the show you were watching and decided to go check on Elias in the kitchen. You walk into the kitchen and smile at the sight in front of you. Elias has replaced his shirt with an apron along with some workout shorts and his hair in a bun. He hums lightly to the music his phone is playing and you can't help but sneak up behind him. Wrapping your arms around his waist, but under the apron, startles him slightly before he relaxes into your arms and flexes his abs to entice you further.

"Is there anything I can do to help Chef Elias?" He smirks and turns towards you to give you a wink before replying, "Well I guess you could help handle the sausage." He focuses back on the chicken breast and veggies in front of him as you moan lightly and trace your fingers over his abs. "Oh how I've missed your sausage. It tastes so good and it makes me feel amazing." He cracks his neck before he adjusts his position in front of the stove and leans slightly back into your arms. "Well babe it's going to make you feel better than amazing all day today...after we eat." You pout at the last part and bring your hands to his back and start lightly dragging your nails up and down his back. He shifts nervously before you start leaving slow sensual kisses all over his back and letting out small moans with each one. Elias groans before taking the food off the heat before throwing it onto the plates. You stand back and watch as you slowly start to unbutton your blouse and turn on a Gavin DeGraw song.

I tried giving up

Walked through quite enough

Had to call it a day

Elias rolls his eyes before he walks over to you and kisses you roughly as his body traps you against the counter. His hands take over for yours as your blouse comes off your body and his eyes take in the blue lace bra. "Babe, you know this set is my favorite on you. Are you trying to please me for some reason?" You bite your lip as his lip meet your neck and his hands grab your ass. "Oh don't worry babe, your pleasure is my pleasure. How do you feel about the leggings?" You turn around and lean over the counter letting your ass rub against his hardening cock. The song continues as you slowly grind on your husband in the middle of the kitchen.

So I loosened my lips

And let a little prayer I memorized

Do what I just wished

And suddenly, to my surprise

Oh, DJ, when you play my song

Make me feel bigger than an old King Kong

At the risk of this coming out wrong

Feel like making love with the radio on

Elias turns you around and lifts you onto the counter before his lips attach to yours feverishly. You moan into the kiss as his hands give your ass a light smack.

Oh, every time I hear that jam

Grabbed my baby right by her hand

Even if my day was going all wrong

Feel like making love with the radio on

You let your hands wander to his apron and you quickly get rid of it so you can run your hands all over his muscular chest and torso. His lips start to travel down your neck as he pulls your hips to the edge of the counter to connect with his. You wrap your legs around his waist as he travels down to leave kisses all over your chest. He knows you can be insecure about that area, so he makes sure to show some extra love to your breasts.

Don't you call it a flaw

Everybody needs some a peace of mind

It should be the law

To take a little private time

Elias reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and fully immerse himself in your chest. You squeeze your legs to bring his hardening cock close to your wet core and thread your fingers through his hair. His head continues to travel down before he releases your legs from around his waist and sets you down on the ground. You sneakily let your hand travel down his pants to grasp him and slowly start pumping.

"Babe, you can't be doing that right now. I need everything I have to end up deep inside you." You smile and remove your hand before turning away from him and pulling your leggings off. He groans behind you before he pins you up against the counter and drops his pants. His dick rests on the low of your back as he plays with the sides of your thong.

Oh, DJ, when you play my song

Make me feel bigger than an old King Kong

At the risk of this coming out wrong

Feel like making love with the radio on

After a few seconds of internal contemplation, Elias decides to remove your panties and lift you back onto the counter. You press your chest against his and give him a passionate kiss before you pull away and whisper, "Put a baby in me Elias." He takes quick action to enter you and start making a slow rhythm with his hips. Your eyes stay connected to his as his dick stretches you open just right. Your breathing starts to deepen as his hand reaches down to rub slow circles on your clit in time with his thrusts.

Oh, every time I hear that sound

Engine running and I'm homeward bound

Even if my day was going all wrong

Feel like making love with the radio on

Elias starts to lose his rhythm and you grab his ass to encourage him to keep going. "That's it Elias, just like that." You moan as his thrusts start getting deeper and harder. He attached his lips to yours and your tongues danced together as his thrusts got stronger and your pussy started clenching onto his dick. You pull your lips apart and breathe onto his lips. "I love you so much Elias." He kisses you again and pulls you closer before pulling back. "I love you so much more Y/N." You rest your foreheads together as your orgasm takes over your body. You gaze straight into his eyes and see nothing but love as your body trembles beneath him. A couple thrusts later, Elias moans out your name as you do the same before his thrusts send his cum deep inside you. His thrusts slow down, but he stays inside of you as you lazily kiss and giggle lightly.

"I can't believe our baby may have been conceived in our kitchen." Elias quirks an eyebrow at you before he responds. "Excuse me? Who decided to start dragging their nails over my back knowing that is a surefire way to get me going?" You roll your eyes and bop his nose before retorting, "Who was cooking shirtless knowing that's my biggest turn on?" Elias blushes lightly as he bites his lip and chuckles lightly. "Fine, we are both at fault...but now we can eat!" You smile as he helps you down and brings the food over to the couch. You put on your panties and top before following him with his shorts in your hand. Elias looks back at you, "Why did you put clothes back on babe?" You throw his shorts at him and sit down on the couch. "Because I know how easily distracted we can become when we are naked and I'm hungry." Elias puts on the shorts and smiles as he sits down next to you handing you a plate. "Well then, eat up princess, you've got two episodes of Schitt's Creek to eat and recover before it's your turn to take charge. By the way, I got some massage oil at the store in case you want to use it." You smirk over at him and dig into your food before relaxing into the couch and thinking about how the rest of the day will go.

#elias samson imagine #elias imagine #elias smut #elias samson smut #wwe imagine #wwe smut

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theladyofdeath · 5 years ago

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The Ranch {10}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: enjoy!

The Ranch Masterlist

Cassian threw open the closet in the bedroom of his cabin. Sure, he’d spent quite a bit of time on minuscule dates and hanging out at the bar through the years, but it had been a while since he’d taken a woman out on a proper date.

And here he was, about to take Nesta, a fucking gourmet chef, to dinner. With an hour before he was supposed to “pick her up”, he still had no idea where they were going. He’d run through the list of restaurants in their little town a hundred times through his head as he went through his work that day, but none of them seemed good enough.

What also didn’t seem good enough were the shirts he was staring at. Maybe he’d just stay in what he was already wearing - the towel around his waist. She seemed to prefer him in such, anyways, considering the night they had spent together the day before.

And what a damn fantastic night it had been.

No, Cassian wanted their date to be perfect.

Once again, he stared at the line of shirts hanging in his closet.

He groaned and dragged his hand down his face before he walked across the room and texted Elain.

You busy?

He waited a minute, no reply to his text, and he was both impatient and short on time.

So he called her.

“You couldn’t even wait for me to text you back and tell you that I’m not busy?” Her voice was full of laughter as she answered the phone.

“Sort of in a rush and also freaking out,” he said, beginning to pace.

She was instantly on red alert. “What? Why? Are you okay?”

He shook his head, realizing he’d worried her for no reason. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m taking your sister out on a date tonight and I have no idea what to wear.”

He was met with silence on the other line.

“Elain?”

“I’m here, I’m...trying to make sense of what you just said.” She stuttered a second. “You said you’re taking Nesta on a date tonight?”

“Yes.”

“My sister, Nesta?”

“Yes,” Cassian said, with no chill. “And I’m in a hurry.”

“Taking Nesta out makes you cranky,” Elain muttered. “Okay, I’m here, what is it you need?”

“I don’t know what to wear.”

Another stretch of silence.

Cassian sighed, impatiently. “Elain.”

“Sorry,” she said, tone laced with laughter. “I just...You’re worried about what you’re going to wear?”

“Everything I have looks the same,” he mumbled.

“Then wear one of your fifty plaid shirts,” she laughed. “And your one pair of nice jeans.”

“Really?” He asked, grabbing one of his more expensive shirts from the closet. “But I wear this every day-.”

“She’s seen you everyday and has she ever had a problem with it?” she interrupted.

“I- No,” he admitted. “What kind of food does she like? I asked her to dinner and then I realized that she’s a chef and that nothing around here would be up to her standards.”

Elain paused, but finally said, “Do you trust me?”

Cassian hesitated, unable to hide the question in his voice. “Usually?”

She chuckled. “I’m going to send you an address. Don’t look it up, just trust me, okay?”

He blinked. Well, it was a better idea than he had. “Okay, sure. Yeah, I won’t look it up.”

Elain squealed. “Yay! Alright, stand by. I’ll text it to you now.”

Cassian breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Lainy, you have no idea how grateful I am.”

He could tell she was being genuine when she said, “Anything I can do to help! You both deserve to be happy, to have someone to cherish you and treat you right.” She sighed. “How’d you convince her to finally go out with you?”

Cassian debated on beating around the bush, but knew their families would find out anyways. “We, uh, sort of hooked up last night.”

Not to his surprise, he was met with more silence.

This time, Cassian waited it out. He put his phone on speaker then dropped his towel.

“And by hooked up, you mean…”

“Sex?” Cassian supplied, pulling on his boxers. “Yeah, and it was-.”

“I don’t wanna know.” The words rushed out of Elain so quickly that Cassian knew her cheeks were turning pink.

Cassian chuckled. “Fine. But, it was nice.”

“Were you drunk?” Elain asked, hesitantly.

Cassian rolled his eyes. “No. And she was still there when I woke up this morning, so.”

“Wow, I-.” She paused and repeated, “Wow. You know you’re supposed to take her out before you sleep with her, right?”

“Oh, ha ha.” He said, stepping into his jeans and buttoning them up. His voice was wistful at first. “I can’t help it, I just had to have her. And she actually made the move this time, not me.”

“I still don’t want to know,” she said, laughing. “Have fun, make good choices.”

“I’ll try,” he promised before saying goodbye and tossing the phone onto his bed. A moment later, when he was buttoning up his shirt, her text came through with an address.

He had no idea where she was sending them, and he was almost too scared to look it up, even if he hadn’t promised. After brushing out his hair with his fingers, he tied it at the back of his head and pulled on some socks, then his boots, and sighed.

“Beau!”

Beau came hurrying into the bedroom and up onto the bed, wagging his tail.

“How do I look?” Cassian asked, brows raised.

Beau barked.

“I assume that means you approve. Alright,” he said, grabbing his wallet off his nightstand and shoving it into his pocket. “I’ll be back in a little while. Don’t chew up anything...that’s not already chewed up, okay?”

He gave Beau a quick belly rub before strutting toward the front door.

He grabbed his keys and drove over to Nesta’s, hopping out and knocking on her door.

It only took a second for the door to swing open and Cassian’s mouth began to water.

The blue dress she wore was nothing fancy. On the contrary, it was its simplicity that let Nesta’s beauty shine.

Her golden-brown hair was in a simple braid, her brown sandals showing off her painted toenails. A soft pink, the same shade she wore on her full, beautiful lips.

She raised her brows as she said, “You’re staring. You’ve seen me every day for a while now. You can’t stare.”

“I can and I will,” he protested, meeting her eyes. “And it’s not the first time I’ve been caught staring at you.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag off the hook by the door. “Where are you taking me?”

She stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her as he hesitated. “Uh, it’s a surprise.” To us both.

She laughed quietly but said nothing more as they descended the stairs. Cassian opened the passenger side door and held out his hand to help her up, but she ignored it and hauled herself inside. With a chuckle, Cassian closed the door behind her and made his way behind the wheel before making his way down the long driveway.

Once they were out onto the main road, Cassian said, “You look beautiful.”

She didn’t look over at him as a small smile played on those pink lips. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad, either.”

Cassian grinned and turned on the radio, soft music filling the truck. He had already put the address into his GPS, but kept the volume down. He glanced at his phone every few seconds to make sure he was going the right way. The last thing he wanted was for Nesta to ask why he needed directions to know where they were going. What would his reply be? Oh, I called your sister because I was freaking the fuck out, thanks for asking, no big deal.

It was a conversation he wanted to avoid.

“What all did you do today?” he asked. “I didn’t see you around.”

“I was in the main house, prepping for painting,” she said, nodding. “That place needs to be updated before any guests start coming in. So, I taped, covered the carpets in plastic, and moved all furniture to the middle of the floors. Which, I should probably get a few new things there, too. I swear we grew up on shit made in the 1950s.”

Cassian snorted, then looked her direction. “You should’ve asked for help. I could’ve helped with the heavy lifting.”

She rolled her eyes. “I am perfectly capable of doing things on my own, thank you.”

Cassian shook his head as his eyes went back on the road ahead of him. “Trust me, I know.”

Her amused grin was radiant. “What about you? Any fun ranch stuff today?”

“Ranch stuff?” He chuckled. At her own laughter, he continued, “Nothing too crazy. Mostly made sure there was enough hay left for the horses over the weekend. And checked on Barb. She’ll be having her calf any day.”

“What? Really?” She turned to him. “It’s way too late in the year for calves.”

He nodded. ��Yeah, that’s why I’m keeping such a close eye on her.”

His phone lit up, alerting him that they were approaching their destination. He looked around and chuckled, shaking his head. Leave it to Elain.

He pulled into the little parking lot of an old diner. The sign that read The Starlight Diner was lit up in neon lights. He parked in front of the little building before looking at Nesta to see her reaction.

She was staring at the diner before she turned to him. “You talked to my sister, didn’t you?”

Cassian hesitated, and she laughed. “We used to go here all the time,” she said, shaking her head. “I used to love this place. I can’t tell you how many milkshakes I’ve downed within these walls. And the chili cheese fries? I mean, there’s nothing like them.”

Cassian had been to the diner before, but not since high school. It used to be a popular hangout, one they went to after they won a big game or smoked too much pot under the bleachers.

“So you’re telling me,” Cassian began, turning off the engine. “That a woman who became a famous chef in Paris likes to go to ancient diners and drink milkshakes and eat chili-cheese fries?”

“Yes,” she said, simply. Then she smiled, softly. “Shall we?”

Cassian, completely speechless and a little bit turned on, opened his door and met her on her side of the truck as she got out. They went inside and sat at a table by the window. Old music was playing and waitresses were going about their business on roller skates.

“So, I assume you already know what you want,” Cassian began, flipping open his menu. “And I assume it’s more than a milkshake and chili-cheese fries.”

Nesta was glancing around the restaurant, looking for someone or something, but she didn’t miss a beat when she answered. “Bacon cheeseburger, with extra pickles, chili-cheese fries, vanilla milkshake, with no cherry, and a water.”

He raised an eyebrow, and let his menu fall shut. “I know what I’m ordering.” She laughed and he felt like his heart was going to burst. The sound of her laughter was quickly becoming one of his favorite things. “So why no cherry? Are allergic, or what?”

She scrunched her nose as she moved the silverware around in front of her. “I used to drink the Shirley Temples made with the cheap grenadine. You know the one that’s pretty much just cherry snow-cone syrup?”

Their server came to the table at that moment and took their drink order. They both know what they wanted, but neither was in a rush. She promised to return with their waters and to get their food order in just a moment and they fell right back into conversation.

“Long story short, one night we went to dinner and I had four or five of them.” She laughed and shook her head. “Neither mom or dad noticed how many I’d had, which was awesome to me. I was only allowed to have two before I had to switch to water. When we got home, I got so, so sick. They freaked out because it was dark red and they thought I was bleeding internally.” She began laughing even harder. “Neither of them told me that was what they were worried about, and I wasn’t about to tell on myself. They took me to the hospital and I finally told one of the nurses. Nineteen years and a sixteen hundred dollar hospital bill later, and I hate cherry and cherry flavoring now.”

Cassian just stared at her, barely registering when the waitress came back and gave them their waters. And then he began howling.

The waitress looked at him like he was crazy and mumbled that she’d be back in just a minute for their orders.

“So you were a rebellious child,” Cassian said, laughter dying down but his smile remaining.

“Considering that’s the most rebellious thing I’d ever done, I’d say not,” Nesta said, chuckling. “No, Feyre was the rebellious one, which I’m sure you already know. Elain was the perfect one. And I….I don’t know. I was just there.”

“That’s impossible,” Cassian said. “Give yourself a little more credit.”

She shrugged, and a shadowy look crossed her face that had Cassian clearing his throat. “Well, you didn’t miss out on rebellion. Coming from someone who landed himself in the local jail fifteen times his senior year in high school, alone.”

That look in Nesta’s eyes faded as she shook her head, humored. “Fifteen times? In under a year?”

“Yeah, I swear at some point the cops just started following me when they were bored until I did something they could call me out on,” he laughed. It was a little town. The crime rate was low. “Shoplifting a few times. Mostly underage drinking. One time they caught me peeing into the dumpster behind the corner market. Which, I was drunk then, too….Actually, that night was rough.”

Nesta laughed as she rolled her eyes. “Good thing to know such a classy man has taken me to dinner.”

Cassian’s grin widened. “You live, you learn.”

Nesta nodded her agreement. “What about your parents? Weren’t they furious?”

Cassian’s eyes softened as he said, “Don’t know my dad. My mom died while I was in middle school, lived with Rhys and his mom after that. And, yes, she gave me hell every damn time. But, she always came to pick me up and break me out.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, but he was already waving her off.

“Don’t be,” he shrugged. “From what my mom told me of my dad, he wasn’t the greatest guy. Found out she was pregnant from one of his friends and skipped town. He was a bull rider, and he jumped on the rodeo tour and she never saw him again. And my mom…” he blew out a deep breath. “We should probably save my mom for a less depressing conversation.”

Nesta nodded, completely understanding.

“But Rhys’ mom was great,” he went on, taking a sip from his water. “I love that woman.”

The waitress came back and Nesta ordered.

Cassian said he’d have the same, but with a chocolate shake, then she was off.

“So,” Cassian went on, leaning his elbows on the table. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

Nesta took a moment to think. “After last night, I think you know everything there is to know.”

Cassian smirked. “About some things, maybe. But tell me something I don’t.”

Nesta chewed on her lip, mind going completely blank. Everything either seemed too personal or not personal enough.

“I can’t whistle,” She laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know, this is one of the things I hate about dating. This whole interview process.”

“How about this,” he smiled. “Tell me about your favorite thing in the world.”

He was expecting her to start telling him about cooking, about how she’d ended up in Paris, Rome, London, all the places he’d seen when he did a quick google of her name. But she surprised him.

“Riding horseback,” she said, eyes bright.

Cassian raised a brow. “Riding? That’s your favorite thing in the world?”

“Does that surprise you?” She asked, leaning back in the booth.

“Yeah, a little,” he confessed.

She stirred her water with her straw, watching the ice cubes spin around in her glass. “It was my one escape growing up. The one thing I could do that didn’t result in a sneer from my mother and a lecture about my future from my father.” She sighed. “I used to ride Phoenix for hours to just...get out of the house. Have you ever ridden back on the hills to the west of the property?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean the property that isn’t ours, that’s marked No Trespassing?”

Their waitress brought their milkshakes to the table. There was a bright red cherry on top of Nesta’s, but before she could say anything, Cassian snatched it up and popped it into his mouth. She rolled her eyes, thanked the waitress, and took a huge sip. Her eyes slipped closed instantly and she moaned quietly. “Oh my god, I can’t get a milkshake like this anywhere else.”

She opened her eyes to find him watching her, and when her tongue peeked out to get the little bit of melted ice cream left on her bottom lip, his eyes tracked the motion. They were dark, the shining hazel almost completely swallowed by his pupils.

Without a word, Cassian pulled something from between his teeth and dropped it on the table between them.

The stem from her stolen cherry was tied in a knot.

Nesta said, “That’s both hot and cheesy as hell.”

Cassian’s low laugh skittered across her skin. “You already know what my tongue can do, but I thought I’d give you a little reminder, just in case you somehow forgot already.”

Nesta swallowed. No, she definitely hadn’t forgotten what his perfect mouth could do, but she had forgotten how to speak, especially when he was looking at her the way he was.

He plucked the cherry from his own milkshake, eating the cherry - sans stem, this time - and motioned for Nesta to continue. “So, what about the land that we do not own, Miss I was never rebellious?”

His imitation of her was spot on.

Nesta pursed her lips and said, “Yeah, that land is ours.”

He dropped his spoon, splattering the table in chocolate ice cream droplets. “What?”

She took another drink of her milkshake, not moaning this time, thank the Cauldron, and nodded. “It’s only another few acres. I knew the previous owners. Armand and Colette Lavigne.” The way she said their names, with such familiarity and adoration, Cassian knew she must have spent a lot of time with them. “They were from the Bordeaux region of France. They moved here in their fifties to open a vineyard.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “They didn’t do any research and had no idea the soil here wasn’t good for wine. But they fell in love with the area. And they’re the ones who taught me to love cooking.” She smiled fondly, her eyes misting slightly. “I bought it when Colette passed a few years ago and Armand returned to Floirac. He didn’t want it to go to someone who would just sell it for profit and turn it into another apartment complex or a shopping mall. It's been my land for about four years, but I finally signed the deed to have it put in my name, rather than Armand’s, when I signed the ranch’s deeds.”

Cassian blinked, processing the information, slowly. Then he said, loudly enough to earn a scowl from the elderly couple two booths down, “What the fuck? I’ve been purposely avoiding that land, and now you’re telling me I should’ve been working it?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “No. Not yet, anyway. I haven’t decided what I want to do with it yet.”

Cassian was slowly shaking his head. “I have a feeling you’re never going to stop surprising me.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” She asked.

He smiled at her. “No, it isn’t.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. Nesta finally asked, “Have you even tried your milkshake yet, or are you just going to keep stirring it?”

He pointed his sticky spoon at her and took a big sip through his straw. He pulled back, staring at the thick liquid. “That’s pretty damn good.”

“Pretty damn good?” She repeated, shaking her head. “It’s fucking delicious.”

“You’re fucking delicious,” he muttered, taking another drink from his straw.

Nesta’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink, which only made Cassian's small smile turn into a wicked grin.

Before she could come up with a retort, a display of beautiful, greasy food was laid out before them. Burgers and chili-cheese fries.

As the waitress turned to leave, Nesta said, “Excuse me, but is Alis still here?”

“Oh, no, sweetie, I’m so sorry,” she said, and Nesta nodded. “She’ll be back in for the morning shift tomorrow, though.”

“Okay, perfect. Thank you.”

The woman smiled warmly and left them to enjoy their burgers.

“Alis?” Cassian asked, eyeing the massive plate of food in front of him and its twin in front of Nesta, then her tiny form. There was no way she’d be able to eat everything in front of her.

Nesta already had a forkful of hot, cheesy fries and was diving in. She closed her eyes and made a contented noise. She took a drink of her water, setting it down before answering. “She owns the Starlight. I came here so much that she and I became pretty close. When I…” Ran away. “Left town, I stopped in for a cup of coffee, trying to talk myself out of leaving. Alis is the one who pushed me to follow my dreams. She even paid for my bus ticket out of town.”

“Really?” Cassian asked, popping a fry into his mouth. “She sounds nice.”

“She is,” Nesta agreed. “One of the best this town has to offer. Now, look away because I’m about to bite into this burger and it’s not going to be attractive whatsoever.”

Cassian didn’t look away and Nesta, eyes on his, took a massive bite out of her bacon cheese burger.

He blinked, and she covered her mouth as her eyes lit up at his expression.

“I can honestly say I’ve never been so attracted to you,” he said, taking his burger into his hands. Before he took a bite, he asked, “So, Alis is the one that pushed you out of town, huh?”

Nesta nodded, taking another bite and swallowing before saying, “If it wasn’t for her that day, I probably would have stayed here, ended back up with Tomas, and lived to regret every fucking day that followed. So, I am very grateful to Alis.”

Cassian hadn’t pressed Nesta anymore on the subject of Tomas, and he knew now wasn’t the time, no matter how many questions he had.

“Well, then I’m grateful to her too,” Cassian said, taking a bite so massive nearly half of his burger disappeared. He chewed before saying, “Although I’m pretty grateful you came back, too.”

Nesta took another bite of her own burger. “You’re just saying that because I’ll have sex with you,” she laughed and dove back into her fries.

Cassian’s eyes lit up in amusement. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a perk. But I think you’re going to be good for the b-n-b, for the ranch as a whole.” Nesta’s eyes softened and she smiled. Until he added, “And ‘I’ll have sex�� implies that we’ll be doing that again, right? That wasn’t a one and done?”

Nesta rolled her eyes, mouth full of food. A second later, she said, “I’ll have to think about it.”

Cassian had the audacity to look offended. “Ouch. Was I so bad?”

Nesta just grinned as she took another bite of her fries.

Cassian’s laughter filled the air as they finished their food. He paid, and then they made their way back into the truck.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said, as they pulled out of the parking lot. To his surprise, she had finished every last bite of her food and downed her milkshake. Even Cassian had left a few fries, claiming he couldn’t eat another bite.

“Anytime,” he said, meaning it.

“Um, home is the other direction,” she said, when he turned left onto the main road instead of right.

“I know,” Cassian replied, shortly, and when it was obvious he wasn’t going to say anything more, Nesta shot him a look.

“Where are we going?” she asked, slowly.

Cassian just grinned, one hand on the wheel, the other sneaking over the middle console to hers.

The ride was comfortably quiet, the rumble of Cassian’s truck the only sound. Nesta didn’t mind though, not as he drove through the square, where people bustled about. Velaris was a city best enjoyed at night, and the people milling around every restaurant and park and store front proved it. She also didn’t mind the feel of his hand in hers, so the longer drive was fine by her.

Until they pulled into a parking lot.

“Why are we here?”

Cassian only grinned and hopped out of the truck, rounding the hood and helping Nesta down. “Don’t feel like a walk down memory lane?” They began to walk and, as casually as she could, she slipped her hand back into his. His fingers intertwined with hers and he glanced down at her. She was staring forward, refusing to look up at him, but he knew color was staining her cheeks. Could tell by the way the tips of her ears were a darker shade of pink than normal. “I thought, rather than talk about who we are, cause that always sucks and no one likes doing it-.” He was rambling and Nesta giggled. He laughed at himself and cleared his throat. “Right. What I was trying to say, is that talking about who you are sucks. But talking about who you used to be? I don’t know, for me, it’s always been easier.” Nesta looked up at him, but he shrugged and carried on. “Even if I wasn’t always proud of who I was, I can at least learn something from who I’ve been.”

“Fair enough,” she said, quietly, as he led the way.

They were at their old high school, but Cassian didn’t walk toward the building, which was undoubtedly locked. Instead, he took her to the football field, where Nesta could count on one hand how many times she had been there through the four years she had spent at Velaris High.

“You played football?” She asked, as they walked through the gates.

“I did,” Cassian confirmed, as they walked onto the green field. Velaris Knights was painted into the end zones. “Yeah, I tackled a lot of guys on these fields. And, over there,” he pointed to the bleachers, “is where I used to get high and drunk, referring back to the jail conversation we had earlier tonight.”

Nesta laughed as she looked around. She had never been on the field before. Everything looked different from standing between the bleachers.

“You came to games, right?” He asked, gazing around the field. The lights were on, thanks to the evening practice that had only ended an hour or two before. The lights ran on a timer, just like they had when he played on this field. They had until just before ten-thirty before the lights would go out.

Nesta shook her head. “I was never a big fan of school events. I always preferred to stay home and read or more often than not, I was with Tomas. Going to some roping.”

There he was again, taunting Cassian from the past. But again, he wouldn’t bring up Tomas tonight. “Wasn’t Elain a cheerleader? Didn’t you come to at least support her?”

She shrugged. “Come cheer on the cheerleader? No, and she knew I hated it. She would actually convince Feyre to go to the games so I could have an hour or two of silence.”

Cassian snorted. “Well, I lived on this field. And I kicked ass. While you were being a nerd, apparently.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “I was not a nerd, asshole.”

Cassian held his hands up in surrender. “I never said it was a bad thing.”

Nesta couldn’t help but laugh as she shook her head. “Looking back, I would’ve done some things differently. Maybe not the staying home with a book, but with the whole Tomas business.”

Cassian stayed silent. He wanted so badly to ask, but knew he shouldn’t. They were having such a good time. He didn’t want to ruin it.

So, instead, Cassian said, “I wish I would’ve known you then.”

She chuckled but sat down when they reached the center of the field. “No, I don’t think you do.”

He followed suit, sitting down in the turf leaning back on his hands. “Why not?”

“It was true, what you said before. I constantly had a stick up my ass.” She laughed and continued. “And I was a bitch.”

Cassian laughed, but he didn’t correct her. “You were cute, though. I’m convinced I would have loosened you up.”

Nesta shook her head, unable to stop her smile from spreading. “I’ll let you think that.”

Cassian looked over at her, at the way her golden-brown hair shone in the lights. She was a beauty, and yes, she had been cute in high school, but now she was stunning, in her little blue dress and her simple braid.

“You’re staring again,” she mumbled.

“Let me stare,” he pleaded, eyes soft.

She blushed and he leaned over, tilting her chin up and softly brushing his lips against hers. When he pulled away, he whispered, “Please tell me I can do that whenever I want now.”

Nesta thoughtfully tapped her chin and said, “Whenever? I don’t know about that.”

“Damn you, woman,” he laughed and kissed her again, laying down on top of her.

She chuckled against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck. “We’re not kids anymore, Cassian, we can’t fuck on the football field. Just because you like being tossed in jail doesn’t mean that I do.”

He grinned, resting his elbows in the grass on both sides of her face. “I’ll be nice, I promise.”

She kissed him then, tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth. “Good.”

“Until you did that…” he muttered, kissing her again, pressing his body down against hers as he did so.

She let his hands roam her body, let him grab and squeeze and pull. He tugged on her hair lightly, tilting her chin up and exposing her neck. He nuzzled his face into it, and lightly ran his tongue along the long column of her throat. He pressed soft kisses along her jaw until he returned once more to her lips.

Pulling back to look at her, her lips swollen from his bruising kisses and her hair a messy halo around her head on the grass, Cassian brushed a thumb along her cheekbone. He breathed, “You are so damn beautiful.” She blushed and tried to turn from his gaze. “No,” he whispered, gripping her chin so she couldn’t look away. “Why do you do that? Why won’t you let me tell you how beautiful you are?” He asked, quietly.

“Taking compliments isn’t one of my strengths,” she said, running her hands down his arms, feeling his muscles beneath the fabric.

“Well make it one,” he mumbled, “because I’m not going to stop. I’m going to tell you how beautiful you are, always, because it’s the truth.”

She shook her head, slowly, but didn’t say anything else. She simply grabbed him by the face and brought his lips to hers.

After a few minutes of languid kisses, and some strong, strong willpower, Cassian rolled over and laid on his back, staring up at the sky. He tucked a hand behind his head and the other found Nesta’s next to him. His thumb rubbed small circles on the back of her hand and he gazed up at the stars.

It was quiet for a few minutes, neither one of them wanting to disturb the stillness. But eventually, Nesta asked, “You about ready to head home?”

He turned his head and looked at her, those stormy eyes seeing every part of him. “Just a minute. It’s almost time.”

Her brow furrowed. “For what?”

He smiled, looking back to the sky. “You’ll see.”

They laid there in silence, Nesta loving the feeling of his hand in hers.

The lights shut off, plunging the field into darkness. Nesta started, looking around, wondering if they needed to go, to get back to the truck, before someone-.

“Look,” he breathed, still staring upwards.

Nesta gazed toward the sky. Her breath caught in her throat.

The lights above them, surrounding the field, had gone off, and the starlight above them burned brightly, lighting up the night sky.

There were no trees, no nothing to block the view of the series of shooting stars that shot across the speckled darkness.

Only in Velaris.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. She had always known her hometown was famous for its starlight, had always snuck a glance or two up at the night sky throughout her childhood, but had never taken a moment to simply watch, to wait, to explore with her eyes the beauty of creation.

“It is,” Cassian agreed, softly. He wasn’t only talking about the night sky. “I used to lay out here all the time, in high school. Captivated by it.”

“Were you high?” Nesta asked, quietly, jabbing him in the ribs.

Cassian laughed, breathlessly. “Sometimes.”

She glanced over at him, but he didn’t notice. He was entranced by the wonder before him, by the sheer enormity of the sight above him.

“You love this town,” she said, and it wasn’t a question.

He nodded and looked over at her. “I do. It’s not much, but it’s...home. I’ve never wanted to be anywhere else.” He paused. “Well, except on the road, but that didn’t exactly pan out.”

“Why not?” She asked, before she could stop herself.

Cassian hesitated. “It’s a long story.”

“Is it?” She asked. “Or is this one of those times you say it’s a long story because you don’t want to tell the story.”

Cassian laughed, glancing sideways at her. “Maybe a little bit of both.”

“Well,” she said, smiling softly. “I have time.”

He tried not to let it sound harsh when he said, “Another time.” He turned and laid on his side, brushing the loose hair framing her face behind her ear.

He could see the stubbornness, could see that Nesta wanted to push. But she nodded and leaned forward to press her lips against his.

After a soft smile, he climbed to his feet and held out a hand. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s get home.”

She took his hand, happily, and let him walk her back to the truck. The ride back to the ranch was quiet, but not uncomfortable. He caught her looking at him from time to time, and every time he caught her, that look of annoyance from being caught captured her face.

When Cassian pulled up to her little house, he turned off the engine and got out, walking her up to the porch. They stood, hand in hand. He looked down at her and kissed her, softly. “Is this the part where you invite me inside?”

She made a show of acting like she was thinking, and took a step back. “I don’t know, this was only our first date…” She opened the door and took another step back until she was inside. “I’m not that type of girl.”

There was a playful glint in Cassian’s eye and he stepped forward, bracing an arm on the door frame. “I don’t know what type of girl you’re talking about.”

She chuckled and said, “Goodnight, Cassian.”

The smirk on his face faltered and she shut the door in his face.

He took a step back and blinked. “Wha- Are you kidding me?”

The door swung open just a few seconds later and Nesta stood inside, still laughing. She grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him over the threshold, her lips immediately meeting his.

#theranchnessian #sharacollab #nessian #theranch #au #modern au #fanfic #fanfiction

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tortie-tales · 4 years ago

Text

Friendship Ch. 6

I scrolled through my notifications, shocked. They were almost exclusively from Mokuba, who had called and messaged me over a hundred times.

I opened the group chat I was in and began to catch up. They were all related to my whereabouts, except for the last few;

Red Eyes: If anyone asks, (y/n) stayed home because she had diarrhea.

Dancer Girl: Couldn't you have thought of a better excuse, Joey?!

King of Games: I'm with Téa, couldn't we have just said that she wasn't feeling too good?

I groaned before typing up a quick response.

Psychopath: Gee, thanks, Joey. I'm fine guys, I was just sleeping all day.

I'm so happy we don't have school tomorrow, I thought to myself, dreading the homework I would have to catch up on tomorrow.

My stomach growled, reminding me of my original goal: food.

I sighed and stood up, stretching. I walked back into my bathroom and decided to try to fix my hair. I combed it back, only for it to look worse. I sighed and grabbed a hoodie off of my bed, pulling it on quickly.

I grabbed my wallet, only to see that I had five dollars left. No food for me, I guess.

I put my wallet back down and grabbed my laptop, deciding to instead spend this time looking for another job. I walked back out to the living room, hearing the brothers chatter quiet down once again.

"Thanks for checking on me-” I looked at Kaiba “-and breaking my window. You guys can stay if you want, but I'm not making any food or doing anything fun.” I sat down next to Kaiba and directed my attention to Mokuba. “Why did you call me so many times?”

“We were worried!” Mokuba exclaimed.

“Didn't you just say that you were hungry?” Kaiba asked, eyeing me. I shrugged.

“I guess I'm just not hungry anymore.” My stomach growled almost immediately as if it were protesting to my lie. My cheeks flushed slightly.

“..right,” Mokuba said, disbelief evident in his tone. “Seto, I'm hungry too. We should order a pizza!” His eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Absolutely not. You know how much I hate greasy foods,” Kaiba scoffed.

"But Seto, you shattered (y/n)’s window! The least you could do is order pizza for us!” Mokuba begged.

I laughed. “He has a point, you just cost me my deposit, which was two hundred dollars, not counting the repairs I'll have to pay for. Pizza is the least you could do,” I said, smiling. I shut my computer and turned my attention towards him. Mokuba perked up.

Your move, Kaiba.

“I already said no, if you’re that worried about the window I’ll just pay to have it replaced and refund your deposit,” he said cockily. Mokuba groaned.

“Sorry, I only take payment via pizza.”

Mokuba perked up once again, a wide grin spread across his face. He giggled.

Kaiba sighed. “Fine. Gather your things, we’re heading back.”

“Okay big brother. Bye (y/n),” Mokuba mumbled sadly.

“No, (y/n) is coming with us.”

“She is?” Mokuba jumped up off the chair.

“I am?”

“Yes. You wanted payment in pizza, correct?” I nodded, still not understanding why I would have to go to his house. “I refuse to look at that greasy peasant food, let alone let Mokuba consume it. My personal chef will be making us dinner tonight.”

“I appreciate it Kaiba, but it’s kind of late, and I don’t want to get back when it’s dark.”

“You could stay the night!” Mokuba exclaimed throwing his arms out and smacking Kaiba in the process. He gave a quick apology before redirecting his attention to me.

“Ah, that’s sweet of you, but I’m not sure about that,” I said, not knowing how to feel.

“You obviously don’t feel safe here,” Seto began, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you had a chair propped up against your front door and you tripped me with a bat. We have 24/7 security at the mansion, and I can guarantee that no one there will hurt you.”

“Plus your window is broken, so that makes it even less safe,” Mokuba added quietly. Kaiba shot him a glare.

They have a point…

“Alright, let me get some stuff packed.” I stood up and walked to my room, smiling at Mokuba’s cheers.

I stopped in the hallway, realization hitting me.

“Actually, I don’t want anyone stealing my stuff. You guys wouldn’t happen to have boards in your car, would you?” I asked sheepishly.

“I’ll get someone to take care of it,” Kaiba said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Hurry up and gather your things.”

“Alright, no need to rush me.” I went to my room and packed some clothes along with my chargers and laptop. I brushed my hair out and threw it up into a bun before returning to the brothers.

“I’m ready.”

Mokuba grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door. “This is so exciting, Seto never lets me have friends over!”

The cold air made my skin tingle. I walked out onto the pavement and was surprised to see a sports car parked outside. “Did you drive that over here?” I asked Kaiba.

Kaiba scoffed. "How else do you think we got here?” he asked cockily, continuing to walk towards the bright blue car.

“Gee, I don't know, don't you guys have limos?” I asked sarcastically, a little annoyed with his behavior. I glanced at Mokuba, who seemed to share my frustrations.

Mokuba had a look of disbelief and irritation on his face, one that quickly turned into a mischievous grin. “Seto was so worried about you, (y/n), he couldn't trust our driver to get us here fast enough!” He gave us an innocent look before opening the passenger door for me. “Here you go, (y/n).”

“Thank you, Mokuba.” I got into the car, buckling my seatbelt and holding my bag on my lap.

I glanced at Kaiba, quickly looking away before he could accuse me of staring. I directed my attention at the window, watching the scenery fly by.

The ride to the mansion was short and silent, the only noise being the purr of the engine.

We finally arrived at the mansion, pulling in front of the building. Mokuba practically lept out of the car, running to the doors.

I got out of the car and swung my bag over my shoulder, smiling at Mokuba’s energetic outburst.

I waited for Kaiba to get out and walked with him towards the enormous building, opening the door for him.

“Where should I put my stuff?” I asked.

“Seto will show you to your room! What do you want on the pizza, (y/n)?” Mokuba asked, ecstatic.

“What about (favorite topping)?” I said, glancing at Kaiba. He looked tired and slightly annoyed.

“Sounds good to me! I’ll go ask Raymond to start on it!” Mokuba ran off, likely in the direction of the kitchen.

“Follow me,” Kaiba said quietly.

We walked for what seemed like forever before reaching a hallway with 2 doors on each side, and one at the end.

Kaiba opened the second door on the right, walking in and turning on the light. A bed was on the left side, with a dresser across from it.

“This will be your room for the night. Try not to mess it up too badly.” He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze. “And, if you need to sleep here for more than one night, you’re welcome to do so. Mokuba appears to enjoy your company.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Kaiba. I really appreciate it. And thanks for checking up on me today, sorry if I made you worry.”

Kaiba locked eyes with me, his gaze softening. He opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by Mokuba entering the room.

“Hey, uhh, big brother? Raymond quit.” Mokuba handed Kaiba a note.

“Unbelievable,” Kaiba muttered.

I tossed my bag on the bed and walked over to Mokuba. “Should we just order one?”

“No. I’ll make it myself.” Kaiba crumpled up the note and threw it into a waste bin before dramatically exiting the room. I quickly followed, afraid I would get lost in the endless halls.

We reached the front of the mansion, the glass coffee table in front of the couch looking at me threateningly.

“Do you want help, Kaiba?” I asked, still following him. We went through an archway which revealed a large kitchen.

“No, I do not need help, thank you. I think I am capable of making a pizza by myself.” Kaiba walked up to the fridge and got out several ingredients, mumbling to himself. The only words I could catch were ‘unreliable’ and ‘idiot’.

Mokuba walked up beside me, glancing up at me. “So, (y/n), do you want to play video games while we wait for Seto?”

“Sure, what do you want to play?” I grinned at Mokuba’s excited smile and followed him into the living room, watching him open a cabinet and look through the games.

I sat down on the couch, carefully walking around the glass coffee table.

“Do you want to play Mario Kart?!” Mokuba asked, his eyes shining.

“Sure,” I said, entertained by the idea of destroying this young child.

I let him win the first few rounds before I got serious. I easily beat him, flaunting my victory after the third win.

“I am the Mario Kart Queen!” I yelled, standing up and throwing my hands in the air. Mokuba giggled.

“The Queen, huh?” Kaiba walked into the living room, smiling slightly. I grinned at him.

“Yep. Care to challenge me for the title?” I asked, holding up a controller.

“Not today,” he said, walking over and sitting across from me. I smiled at him, happy he was talking to me a bit more than last time.

“Mokuba, can you set a timer for the pizza?” Kaiba asked. Mokuba nodded and grabbed his phone.

Mokuba and I played a few more rounds of Mario Kart. He gave up after I won for the fifth time in a row.

“So Seto, tell me more about that girl you fired today.” Mokuba was barely able to sit still, constantly moving around in anticipation of the pizza.

“She was incompetent, and I have no room for incompetent people at KaibaCorp,” he stated simply before sipping from his glass of water.

“What did she do wrong?” I asked curiously.

“Well, for starters she didn’t appreciate the Blue-Eyes White Dragon. She had the audacity to tell me that it was just a card,” Kaiba looked up at me. “She also overlapped my appointments several times, and I had to do her job for her today.”

“I see. Was she your secretary?” I asked. Kaiba affirmed by nodding. “Does that mean you are looking for someone to replace her?”

“Are you interested?” Kaiba asked, raising an eyebrow. Mokuba was watching us intently.

I thought for a moment.

Do I really want to work for Kaiba?

Joey had always told me horror stories, but he didn’t seem that bad. Joey also exaggerated a lot, so something simple like Kaiba's taste in food probably offended him.

"Yes. Should I set up an appointment for an interview now? Or would you rather do that later on?” To say I was desperate for this job was an understatement. If I got it, it would take a lot off of my shoulders.

Mokuba and Kaiba looked at each other. Kaiba took a breath to respond before Mokuba quickly interrupted him.

"You're hired.”

“Mokuba, she's still in school. How is she possibly going to have time to work full-time as my secretary?”

Oh. I guess he has a point.

“But it would be perfect! You would get to see each other all the time!” Mokuba protested.

I sighed. “He has a point, Mokuba, I didn’t realize the job was full time. You're not offering any part-time jobs, are you?” I asked, still desperate. Kaiba thought for a moment.

“Do you want to scrub toilets?” he asked. Mokuba facepalmed.

"....how much does it pay?” I asked.

“Sixteen dollars an hour,” Kaiba stated simply.

“Done. I'm hired.” I stood up and stretched. “I feel like the pizza should have been done by now. Mokuba, how much time is left on the timer?”

Mokuba looked at his phone and paled. “I never pressed start.”

“Do you guys smell something burning?” I asked, looking at the kitchen. Black smoke became visible.

“Fire!!!!!!!!!!!!” Mokuba screamed.

“The pizza!!!!” I yelled, running into the kitchen. I threw the oven open only to be smacked in the face with the sun's heat and glory, along with a ton of smoke. I started coughing and grabbed the pizza, desperate to save it.

The pan burned my hand, and I yelled, dropping the pizza. The pain was intense, but it hurt more to know that my food was willing to hurt me in that way.

“What are you doing?!” Kaiba yelled, startling me. He put on an oven mitt and put the pizza on the stove.

“Saving the pizza,” I said, coughing a little. Kaiba sighed and opened a window. He walked over to the sink and turned the water on.

“Put your hand under the water,” he said, walking back to the burnt pizza. I followed his directions quietly, looking back at him. He shook his head and shoved the pizza aside.

I stood there for a few minutes. He walked over to me and turned the tap off, gently grabbing my wrist. He looked at my hand and shook his head once again.

“Come on.” Kaiba walked out of the kitchen. “Mokuba, order a pizza.”

Mokuba cheered and ran for his phone.

I followed Kaiba through the mansion, keeping my burnt hand close to myself. We reached a familiar hallway, entering the second door on the left.

We entered the master bedroom. There was a bed with a dark blue comforter on the right side of the wall, a window at the back of the room, and a door on the left of the room.

“Sit down,” he said, opening the door. He walked into a bathroom and opened a cupboard.

“Where?” I asked, glancing around.

“On the bed.” Kaiba walked back to me with a first aid kit.

He sat on the bed next to me and tenderly took my hand in his. I looked away, my cheeks warm, trying to ignore how his rough hands fit perfectly around my own.

“It’s fine, you know. The burn isn’t even that bad, it’s not like I’m going to die,” I mumbled. I glanced over at him and watched him completely ignore me, continuing to treat my burn. He lightly wrapped it in gauze. When done, he sat there holding my hand, saying nothing.

"...Kaiba?"

"Enlighten me: why did you grab the pizza pan with your bare hand?" he asked in disbelief.

"It was burning??" I said, confused.

"There were oven mitts right there." His eyes pierced into my soul, analyzing my very being.

"Well, Kaiba, I wasn't looking for oven mitts, I was saving the pizza." He looked irritated at my response, removing his right hand from mine and pinching the bridge of his nose, his left hand remaining on mine.

Kaiba let out a deep sigh and stood up, pulling me with him. "Let's go see what Mokuba ordered."

#seto kaiba x reader #seto kaiba #kaiba x reader #yugioh x reader #yugioh fanfiction #yugioh #yu-gi-oh #yu gi oh #x reader

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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years ago

Text

Delusional (Ch.1)

Okay, so this is something that won't be for everyone. It's a trope that me and my friends got into while RPing so this was born. I think this will be one of those fics that I'll only continue if there's enough interest. Let me know what you think!

Tony had been pissed when his parents told him that his mother was pregnant. He had no idea what possessed them to think having another kid was a good idea when they could barely pay attention to the one they already had, and he even said that. It ended up turning into an argument between him and Howard and Tony gave them both the cold shoulder for the entirety of Maria's pregnancy. Whether it was because of her age or possibly because of Tony's ongoing silent treatment stressing her out, his mother went into labor a month early. Tony couldn't even bring himself to visit his parents or the new baby at the hospital, but they eventually came home with his new baby brother that he almost considered ignoring completely.

But then he realized that would make him exactly like Howard.

So when his parents went gallivanting off to some party one day, leaving their preemie baby in the hands of the maid, Tony finally decided to properly meet his brother. A seventeen year age difference wasn't unheard of, but it still felt weird to walk into the nursery with the knowledge that the baby inside was a sibling. He decided he would make sure the baby was still alive and then go back to his bedroom to study for his physics final, but when he approached the crib the baby was sleeping in...he softened.

His baby brother slept peacefully on his back with his arms stretched out on both sides of his head and every so often snuffled in his sleep. He wasn't covered with a blanket and he vaguely recalled hearing that he shouldn't be at his age, but he was at least dressed warmly in tiny blue footie pajamas. He had wisps of dark hair that looked like they would be soft to the touch and Tony was tempted to reach out and see but he refrained. He didn't want to disturb the baby.

Tony had been so focused on ignoring Howard that he had to wrack his brain for his brother's name, which he knew his mother had told him. He was pretty sure he had been studying at the time and was only half listening, but it eventually came to him.

Scott.

Scott Harris Stark.

It was barely seconds later that the baby started to fuss and Tony looked around a little lost before finally giving in and leaning down to scoop him up. Tony was a goner after that. Scott's hair was just as soft as it looked and Tony was worried he could break his brother if he so much as sneezed. It didn't stop him from taking over most of the responsibilities of caring for Scott from that moment on though. Tony did his research, watched his mother, and even asked the maid for advice, but soon he was changing diapers. He fed Scott, stayed up for hours on end when he was colicky or sick, dressed him, played with him…

Tony was determined to make sure Scott had the love and attention he was deprived of. At least Maria tried with both of them.

But when Scott was just under a year old, tragedy struck. Both their parents died in a car accident on the way to a party, leaving Tony alone with his infant brother. Fortunately he was freshly eighteen so he could have legal guardianship over Scott and Tony had Rhodey and Obadiah for support and help with the company he now had control over. Scott always came first though. Tony made sure he had a decent childhood despite the fact that he easily got sick, and the adorable smiles he got in return were well worth it as Scott grew up.

So was the boy's first word. Dad. Tony never corrected him since he did raise Scott, and his brother never knew their parents. So as far as Scott knew, Tony was his father and Tony made sure to hide away the truth. As far as he was concerned, the lie wasn't hurting Scott and it was partly true in a sense.

He didn't expect it to be easy and it wasn't. Because Scott was born premature, he had special needs in the form of allergies (both food and environmental), asthma, and he even got sick constantly. Most days found Scott in Tony's room because the boy whined whenever Tony tried to put him in his own room, and he was terrified Scott would stop breathing in the middle of the night. Scott slept in Tony's bed until well into his grade school years when he finally started to grow out of his need to be near his father. Tony was still nervous and checked on Scott before he went to bed and at least once in the middle of the night when he woke up.

When Tony first found out Scott was allergic to peanuts, he was a wreck. He threatened the doctors to help his kid when he heard Scott wheezing for breath, and when the boy was finally recovering, he demanded they do whatever they had to do to check for any allergies he might have had. Tony didn't think he could handle seeing Scott as sick as he was again. The wheezing, the hives, the overall misery his little boy had been in…

It turned out Scott was severely allergic to all types of nuts. Peanuts, cashews, almonds, walnuts...if it was a nut, Scott couldn't have it. That was easy enough to plan meals around but then there was also shellfish, sesame, parsley, and pineapple. Whenever they went out to eat, Tony scrutinized every ingredient on the menu if it was available, and if it wasn't, he demanded to talk to the chefs. Fortunately once he learned what food Scott could have, it became second nature.

Tony always made sure to carry an inhaler and epipen with him, had extras held for Scott at school, and more in the boy's backpack. He taught Scott as early as possible what he couldn't eat because it would make him very sick and for the most part, things went well enough. There was only one incident at school when Scott unknowingly ate something he wasn't supposed to, but he was quickly treated with one of his pens and sent to the hospital. Scott was quick to bounce back from that since the school staff had been prepared, so the only constant issue was his asthma.

Scott never let it slow him down and Tony swore he was going to either go gray at 25 or suffer heart failure. The little boy was constantly climbing everything, and Tony once had to pull him off the bookcase that he managed to climb up to the fifth shelf. The fifth shelf. Rhodey had his fair share of retrieving Scott from high places whenever he visited too.

Before Tony knew it, Scott had grown into a young man with a talent for hacking and engineering and had a penchant for tacos, oranges, and lollipops. He helped Tony with a lot of his projects but absolutely refused to help with anything related to weapons. Scott never liked violence and always hated that Stark Industries was solely based on weapons making. Tony never faulted him for it.

"Scott, have you seen my--?" Tony stops mid sentence when he looks over at the young man and finds him at his computers with his feet kicked up on a small part of the desk, dozing with a lollipop in his mouth. "Oh, that's safe."

He walks over and takes the lollipop out of Scott's mouth and he jolts awake. "Hey! I was eating that!" Scott complains.

"Yeah, you were very proactive about it. I didn't raise you for 21 years so you could choke and die because you fell asleep with candy in your mouth." Tony rolls his eyes and sticks the candy back in Scott's mouth before he could protest. "Now have you seen that little screwdriver you like to steal?"

"You had it last, and I've been busy updating Jarvis's code." Scott answers.

"I saw that. I guess you're so good you can do it in your sleep."

"It was uploading!" Scott drops his feet to the ground with an annoyed huff. "And I told you I wouldn't help you with your stupid weapons. That includes finding misplaced tools."

"Fine, fine."

Tony tries fixing the cow lick in Scott's hair and rolls his eyes when it only floofs back into place. He learned very early on that his kid's hair was untameable but that didn't stop Tony from trying. Hair gel, pomade, hair spray...none of it could contain and style Scott's hair. The cow lick worked for him though so Tony wasn't too obsessed with trying to find something to keep it in place.

"Well while you wait for your new code to upload, why don't you make me a sandwich?" Tony says. "I gotta get the Jericho prototype finished tonight."

Scott frowns. "Why do they want you to fly all the way out to Afghanistan? What's wrong with how you usually sell this stuff?"

"It's just for a couple of days volpino. Now where's my tuna sandwich?" Tony asks.

"Probably in the fridge. It's deconstructed." Scott says as he leaves the lab.

"Oh, haha. Funny. I like mine constructed so get on it. Chop chop."

Tony smirks when he hears Scott mumble something under his breath along the lines "slave driver", but with no heat. Things had gotten easier as Scott got older but he never really grew out of his physical problems. He still had his food and environmental allergies, his asthma, and even his tendency to get sick, but that had mostly been remedied when Tony moved them to Malibu. The warm weather helped with that and Scott didn't get sick nearly as often as he did in New York, and that had been a huge relief for the both of them. Tony only wished he had thought of it sooner.

When Scott comes back with the sandwich and sets it nearby for Tony, the man looks up at him and rolls his eyes when he finds the younger man drinking out of a juice box. "You know you can have beer now right?"

"Juice is better." Scott says. "When are you leaving tomorrow?"

"You'll probably still be asleep. Even if I leave late." Tony grabs the sandwich and takes a bite. "So try not to blow up the lab while I'm gone." He adds around his mouthful.

"That's no fun." Scott says sarcastically. "Pepper called by the way. She said she has some paperwork for you to look at before you leave."

Tony groans. "Tell her I'm not home."

"It'll be true in a few hours anyway."

"Don't underestimate Pepper. She'll be waiting on the tarmac for me to look at those papers if she has to." Tony grumbles and then looks up at Scott with a suspicious smile that makes his son narrow his eyes at him. "You're 21. Maybe it's time to start giving you some responsibility with the company."

"I do. It's called making sure my dad doesn't blow himself up because he writes codes when he's half asleep. How are we still alive?"

"Rhodey and Happy." Tony replies dryly before whapping Scott upside the head. "Don't sass me."

Scott rubs the back of his head as he walks back over to his personal workstation to check on the progress of the code. When he had shown an interest in engineering and computers, Tony had immediately set up Scott's own work area with age appropriate equipment that he either replaced or updated as Scott got older. He was good at it too. Tony couldn't count the number of times he got calls from the FBI asking him to get Scott to stop leaving them viruses with laughing cat videos or something. They were always harmless and easily fixed, so Tony's response was to tell them to update their security so Scott couldn't get in.

Apparently they had yet to find a way to keep Scott out and Tony wasn't about to take away one of his son's very few joys in life. As long as it all stayed harmless, Tony would look the other way. He knew Scott was very capable of hacking into pretty much anything, and he was glad his kid was a pacifist. Because Scott was definitely very capable of getting his hands on nuke codes.

Tony actually wouldn't be surprised if Scott had already gone in and changed them.

Some whirring pulls Tony out of his thoughts and he looks over at the kitchenette to find DUM-E making smoothies again. A quick glance told him that there was at least peanut butter and almond milk in it so it wasn't safe for baby boy consumption.

"Hey! Are you trying to kill your little brother with that?" Tony asks and DUM-E beeps sadly when the blender goes off. "You know he can't have nuts!"

"There goes my social life." Scott says and Tony makes a face.

"I don't want to hear about that."

"Says the man whose one night stands I had to chase away."

Tony laughs. "To be fair, it was funny to see them get creeped out when you just stood in the kitchen and stared at them while drinking your juice box."

"...yeah. That was pretty fun." Scott admits.

"Sir, Miss Potts is on her way down." JARVIS says and Tony groans.

"Ugh the dreaded secretary with her paperwork."

There's a few beeps before the lab door hisses open and then the sound of heels clicking across the linoleum.

"Tony-"

"I know," he sighs. "Paperwork. Give it to Scott."

Pepper places the small stack next to his arm. "He's too busy making sure you don't blow yourself up."

"You know I had to teach him how to do that right?"

"And now he's better than you." Pepper says and Scott cackles.

"Ouch. My pride." Tony clutches at his chest in mock hurt.

"Please just look at this and sign. It won't even take you ten minutes." Pepper sighs.

"I trust you."

"Nice try."

#tony stark #scott lang #pepper potts

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lu-undy · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 62 - SBT

Here it is!

"Right, baby, I think we're ready."

Mundy had put on his black three-piece suit and it had taken him an ungodly amount of time. He wanted everything to be perfect, and with his arm still in the cast, it was delicate. He shaved, arranged his hair and decided against using his hat. It didn't match with the very classy suit.

"Pearl, come here, I need to dress you up too."

The kitten came closer to the edge of the bed where she had been silently watching Mundy from. And that's when it struck him. She wasn't that baby tiny kitten anymore… It had been months between meeting Lucien and now; months during which Perle had grown up significantly. She wasn't an adult cat yet, but she was far from a kitten too.

"Here, that's for your collar…" He removed the pink one and replaced it with the black one that Richard had made. Mundy delicately put the heart-shaped pendant with her name through it. "And that's the bow… Did I put it correctly? Does it itch or hurt or anythin'?"

Perle sat up proudly.

"Meow."

"Alright, good, come to me, baby."

Mundy stood his back against the ladder that led to the bed and Perle elegantly went from the bed to his shoulder.

"Good girl. Now, we'd better get goin'."

Mundy took the bus to the cemetery that Maurice had mentioned over lunch that day. The other passengers gave him some odd looks. Mundy was impeccably dressed and his hair was neatly arranged. Even his cat's accessories matched his clothes…!

He got off the bus and when he passed the wrought-iron gates, shivers ran through his body. He frowned and walked deeper in, on the old stone pavement.

"Holy…"

He soon saw a horde of people surrounding a priest and one head stood up and out of the crowd. It was Maurice's. Mundy passed the crowd and went to him. As he did so, he saw the children that Maurice was taking care of, he recognised some beggars and even the Doc' was there. As promised, Richard and his family had come, as well as Eddy, curiously enough. The rest of the crowd consisted of people that Mundy did not know or recognise but they all dressed for the occasion, either all in black or in dark blue military uniform with medals hanging from their chests.

"Mundy." Maurice greeted him.

"Who are these people?" He asked straight away.

"People who knew who L was. On the day that the accident happened, I was there to confirm that both Duchemin and L… passed. And these people you see, these all knew him either by name or by reputation. Some even served with him during the war."

"Crikey… They all came from-?"

"Oui. They jumped in a plane from France and answered the call that I didn't even have to make. The news of L's passing does not need any courier to spread." Maurice answered.

Mundy's eyes went around and finally fell on what was in front of him, on the grass, next to a wide hole that matched the box's dimensions. The casket.

"Ladies and gentlemen…" The old priest interrupted. "We gather here today to celebrate the life of Lucien de Beauregard, who has now returned to his home with Our God, The Father."

Mundy's eyes snapped wide. That was Lucien's full name and he had never asked him. He had never thought about it.

The priest went on with a sermon and a prayer that Mundy did not fully hear. His eyes were stuck on the box not far from his feet. And what his mind imagined inside tore him apart. He bit his lip to stop himself and tried to pay attention to what the priest said, to distract himself from his own train of thought.

But Gosh… Even something as simple as his full name, Mundy didn't know. And yet, Lucien wanted to be buried here in Australia, by his side….?! How wild was that! They had only known each other for a few months and yet Lucien had completely centered his life around Mundy, his life and his after-life.

The priest went on and on with words, Jesus, God, the Holy Spirit and all of it.

"I was informed that some of you would like to play a song?" The old church man said.

"Yes."

A crew of musicians pushed through the crowd and Mundy recognised them.

"Hello everyone, uhm, I'm Andy, my friends here and I didn't know much about Lulu but… He gave us our passion for music back and… We wanted to pay a tribute to him, modestly, with the first piece he asked us to play." Andy looked at the casket. "Lulu, we will miss your voice."

He turned to the musicians and when he raised his hand, the violins started. The brass section was added little by little, as Mundy put a hand on his mouth to cover his shock. He recognised the melody even if the velvet voice and poetic lyrics were silent.

It was La Solitude.

Mundy heard it though, in his head, Lucien's voice, the voice he fell in love with, the elegance, the charm, the refinement; qualities that were so foreign to him but suited Lucien like his very gloves. And the tears started to stream as Mundy realised that she would be back now, the Solitude. Bugger, no, not again…

The musicians did their best and some of them couldn't hold back their tears either. When they finished, no one applauded but all nodded respectfully.

"Anyone else would like to add a word?" The priest asked.

Mundy wiped his tears with the back of his hand and when he raised his head, a forest of hands had risen. The priest let everyone talk.

That old military man related a story that involved Lucien saving him, that other one told everyone how Lucien helped him secure a strategic place, even though he wasn't part of the mission… The tales of war went on and on from all those people wearing a képi and a dark blue uniform. Their stories confirmed what Mundy had heard from Richard and Maurice: Lucien was an exceptional man, a man who did not hesitate to help, putting his own life at risk to try and make it better for others. He wasn't all arrogance and if he was, it was only a cover, to hide a generosity that very few people could understand.

"Anyone else?"

"Yes, please."

"Bastian…?"

The young man took a step and looked down at the casket.

"L, you… You encouraged me to work hard for what I want and uh… You've always been there for me, leaving gigantic tips… You helped me pay a new pair of shoes, you helped me get a haircut, you gave me advice, you gave me hope… I should have told you earlier, it's a bit late now but uh… They took me in the kitchen of the hotel, as an apprentice. They'll teach me and hopefully I'll be able to become a chef cook. I… Thank you so much…" Bastien wiped the tears on his cheeks.

"And thank you, old man." To Mundy's surprise, Victoria stepped out of the crowd, holding hands with a man. "Thank you for your company, your lunches, the Spanish lessons, the advice with… everything. It's thanks to you that I found my… Well, my fiancé, and… I intended to invite you to the wedding, whenever that would be. Anyway, thank you for being the dad I'd have loved to have."

Mundy's jaw dropped. He knew Bastien and Victoria but he had no idea about Bastien's dream to become a cook, or Victoria's Spanish lessons, or even her boyfriend…! And to think that when he had first met him, Mundy thought that Lucien was one of those like Johnson: too much money, nothing in his heart. But he turned out to be the one exception to the rule, just like for anything else.

"Thank you, my child." The priest answered. He scanned the crowd. "You… Is there anything you would add? I see you are deeply troubled."

Mundy raised his eyes and it was to him that the church man was talking.

"I can't…" He sobbed. "I-I'd love to, but I can't…"

Mundy didn't see it but Maurice gestured to the priest.

"You may speak freely. Tell us and tell him what troubles you."

Mundy wiped his face with the back of his sleeve as Maurice put a hand on his shoulder to encourage him.

"He… He was everythin' to me… He came to my life like a gift from God himself. He… He was the best friend I'd ever had and I knew him only for a few months. I trusted him with my life, I… Lu'... Why did you have to go… I… I love you."

Mundy hid his face in his hands as Perle brushed herself against him.

The casket was slowly lowered to the ground and Mundy could not bear to see it. His eyes caught a glimpse of it and his knees gave up. Victoria went to him and crouched down, brushing his back gently. He sobbed and sobbed, covering his face in shame as little by little, the casket got covered by more and more dirt.

"... Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

When Mundy removed his hands from his face, he had cried enough for his eyes to burn so much that he could hardly open them. He found himself sitting on the ground in front of a tombstone with the name of the man his heart beat for. Perle was lying down in front of the tombstone and crying too.

"I'm sorry, baby cat… I'm so sorry… I didn't want that, I didn't want any of it, I… I thought we'd make it, I genuinely did…"

The sobs went on and Mundy didn't realise that the crowd had gone and he was left alone to grieve.

"Fuck me, fuck all of me, I'm just going from one loss to the next, I hate it! Why does it have to be like this? Does it really need to be like this? And what am I gonna lose next? You, baby cat? My van? My r-oh…"

Mundy's eyes snapped wide and the rage boiling inside him made it out.

"FUCK IT!"

He grabbed Perle and ran back to Maurice's street and his van. Once he got there, he slipped in and started the engine. He floored it. It was hard to drive with one arm but compared to losing his reason to live, it was nothing.

"Meow?" Perle asked from Lucien's seat.

"We got some cleanin' to do, baby cat, and the sooner we do it, the better…!"

Mundy raced out of town and into the desert. He drove for long hours during which the shadows of the few cacti and boulders there stretched longer and longer on the orange and dry ground.

"Meow…"

Perle laid down on the seat and was staring at her Dad. He was frowning, his jaw was clenched hard and he was almost not breathing. His heartbeat was fast and suddenly his body temperature soared and more water flowed out of his eyes. He cried again and Perle understood it now. They had said goodbye to Papa and Dad was very sad about it. But it would be fine, Dad was strong and Perle wasn't a kitten anymore, she could defend them if needs be!

Still, Dad was crying long and hot tears. His eyes were red and his breath was completely erratic.

"Meow…"

Perle hopped from her seat to her Dad's and sat on his lap, curled in a warm ball of fur. Dad rolled down the window and meowed louder and louder at… at the road? He meowed loud at no one, certainly not at Perle, she hadn't done anything wrong. Her ears slowly moved down and she laid her head down.

Poor Dad… He was as mad as she was before she found Papa. In that state, he would no doubt hiss, bite and scratch anyone who would dare approach him. Of course Perle was distraught to lose her Papa, she loved him more than anyone and anything else. He had saved her, fed her, sheltered her, raised her, even loved her… Papa used to give the best kisses, those that make a funny noise, and he always smelt so good...

Oh, Dad stopped the van.

"You can stay in the van, if you want, Pearl."

"Meow." She stood up on her back legs and put her paws on his chest. Mundy looked down and hugged her. She had grown up so fast, that kitty. Now when she stood up, her head reached below his jaw.

"Right, c'mere then, big lady."

He put her on his shoulder and exited the driver's seat to go at the back. Perle looked around them but here was no one and nothing. No streets, no buildings, no nothing.

Dad went in through the back door and he retrieved a big metal box. He opened it and it contained a lot of shiny things inside. Perle had never seen those things before. As Dad was crouched down, she hopped off of his shoulder and into the box.

"Meow?"

"Don't get in there, kitty cat. It's ugly." He took her out and turned to get his blowgun and a few other things lying around in the van. He took all the big knives out of the wall and his eyes and his entire body stopped sharp.

"What the…?"

As he removed the kukris from the wall, Mundy realised that one of the pictures that was stuck there was gone. The picture of him and his parents, the most recent one..!

He looked down at the floor. Maybe the old sticky tape gave up and it fell, but no. He couldn't see it anywhere.

"Bloody hell, problems never come alone…"

He decided to not worry about it just now and focus on what he had come here to do instead. When he turned to toss the big knives in the box again, Perle was sitting back in the large box.

"Meow?"

"Get out, Pearl. I don't have time to play."

"Meow?"

He sighed and crouched down again. He gently carried her off of the box and put what he had in his hand in there.

"Look, these are problems."

"Meow?" She repeated.

"Yeah, problems. People call them rifles, kukris, weapons. I call them problems."

"Meow?"

"Because whenever I touch one, people end up dying. And this time it's… Bugger…" He shut his eyes and looked away.

Dad closed the big box and pushed it out of the van. He then took the biggest spoon Perle had ever seen and took massive spoonfuls of the ground. He kept meowing loudly each time the big spoon hit the ground. And he went on and on forever such that Perle took a nap on the van's door step. When she woke up, it was dark outside and Dad was still hitting the spoon in the ground and meowing. But this time, he was quieter. The hole he dug was now so big that the box fitted in there. It pushed it in and then he put back all the dust and dirt he had moved away with the gigantic spoon. It took him ages because of his broken short leg.

"Right…"

Dad ended up on his knees, pushing the dirt back to be flat, and the box had totally disappeared.

"Meow…"

Perle jumped down to the ground and brushed her fluff against Mundy.

"Yeah. It's over, kitty cat. I won't do that stupid mistake ever again. I'd rather die now and alone rather that touch these cursed things, find someone and end up killin' them."

"Meow?"

"My Dad was right, those things kill even when you don't pull the trigger."

Mundy sat on the ground, under the moon.

"Meow…" Perle stood up on her back legs and Mundy hugged her.

That night, as for a lot of the nights that would follow, Mundy would hug Perle as though she was all he had left, because that was what it felt like. And the night came back to being a moment of doubt, of dread, of distress. Every twenty-four hours, the same anxiety would creep up on the Aussie. He spent his nights talking to Perle, crying sometimes, other times he would brush her growing fur or cut her claws.

"Pearl?"

"Meow?"

"D'you miss your Papa?"

She raised her lagoon blue eyes to Mundy and blinked slowly.

"Meoow…" She meowed long and sad.

"I miss him too."

She purred as that night, weeks after Lucien passed, Perle was laying on Mundy's chest. His arm had healed and he slid a hand under his head on the pillow as he scratched her with his other hand.

"You know what bothers me?"

"Meow."

"There's so much stuff I wanted to do with him, but I never got the time."

"Meow?" She asked.

"What? I don't even know… But I could see us doin'... Stuff. Y'know stuff that people do, eat outside together, just walk around together. There's other stuff but uh… You're still young."

"Meow!" She protested.

"I know, I know, now you're as fluffy as a cloud and you're one big kitty, but you're still our baby."

She purred and offered more of her jaw and neck for Mundy to scratch as she closed her eyes. The Aussie sighed.

"Thanks, kitty cat… I love you."

He wrapped his arms tighter around her and fell asleep. Perle didn't fit in Lucien's jacket pocket anymore but they both needed it to sleep anyway.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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gumnut-logic · 5 years ago

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Minerva (Bit 1)

Okay, this fic is an attempt to get my mojo back. Every time I go on holiday it gets sideswiped. Being sick definitely did not help, though admittedly coughing all night last night may have made me my usual sleep deprived self, so who knows, it might have helped :D

But anyway, This fic is Kermadec because I needed a boat :D It also required a little research - Minerva Reef is a pair of actual atolls not far from Tracy Island. I’m not sure of the distance so I fluffed it.

Andre and Cecil are a pair of private nurses first mentioned in Gentle Rain. I like to recycle my OCs but I haven’t read that story in ages. Here’s hoping I’ve kept them true to form. They haven’t been sketched out in this much detail before, in any case.

There is fluff. I broke Virg again, oops, but there is resultant fluff. I’m sick, I can’t help myself.

Many thanks to @scribbles97 and @vegetacide for the read throughs and support. I haven’t forgotten about The Tattoo, I just needed a little self indulgence first.

This bit is mainly set up and I hope to write more asap. 1726 words.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

Two broken legs.

If there was anything worse than a broken limb, it was more than one and two broken legs was the worst.

Or two broken arms. He wasn’t sure as he hadn’t managed to break two arms as yet. But two broken legs definitely sucked.

Of course, it was worth it. Saving children was always worth it. But weeks of confinement, of being unable to do anything for himself, was about to send him around the bend, out the window and into the Pacific.

His brothers did their best and both Andre and Cecil, the family nursing staff - yes, they had enough injuries on enough of a regular basis to have nursing staff on their payroll - had been called in on this one to cart him back and forth across the house, see to his necessaries, and pretty much do his bidding.

Which was fine, since he and Andre got on like a house on fire. The man spoke both paint and piano almost as much as Virgil and there had been fun times, despite his infirmities.

Cecil was a Gordon clone and those two got up to much more mischief than was really acceptable for an employee. But since Gordon usually took all the credit, even the time Scott had his eyebrows shaved, they got away with hell.

Besides, Scott’s eyebrows had been partly burnt off already and had looked stupid, so shaving them both off was an improvement that had to be done. How Gordon had managed it, Virgil didn’t have a clue...and also didn’t want to think too hard about it because it gave his rapscallion little brother powers that he really shouldn’t have.

Cecil played it straight and the Tracys put up with it. Because despite Cecil’s idiosyncrasies, the two nurses were very, very good at their jobs.

That and they came as a pair because Andre and Cecil were married.

So, other than expanding Gordon’s power of pranking, things were good. Well, as good as they could be while he had two broken legs.

But there were days.

God, were there days.

Days, so many days, and today was one of them.

Scott had been called out early in the morning and consequently everyone was up. Alan was called next and he and Kayo were out dealing with yet another space freighter collision. Scott was going to kick some space agency ass about updating some space etiquette rules in the near future to stop this stupidity from happening, and considering how much profanity was bouncing down from orbit, both John and Alan would be there to back him up.

So three brothers were out, leaving Virgil imprisoned with Gordon, Andre, Cecil and Grandma. This combination wouldn’t normally be an issue, but Grandma was cooking up a storm and Virgil was trapped.

Gordon may be a pain at times, but he saw the hazard coming and he was a good brother at heart. So, with some assistance from Andre and Cecil, the Fish deployed his yacht, A Little Lightning, and suddenly the day seemed so much brighter.

Virgil was ensconced in pillows and the best of comfort on the back deck and had the privilege of watching Mateo pass on their starboard side as Gordon guided the yacht out into the open ocean.

Why he seemed to always be injured when aboard this boat, he had no idea, but Gordon was a life saver.

Virgil had no idea where his brother might be taking him and he didn’t really care. He just lay back and enjoyed a beautiful day, the breeze, the many sounds of water and the gentle bounce of the boat.

At some point he dozed off.

It had to be a sign of how much healing his body needed, but somehow he managed to sleep the entire trip, because it was the sudden change in the engine noise that woke him.

Andre was smiling at him in that soft caring way he had about him. Dark hair, blue eyes and a soft smile, the nurse was somewhat reminiscent of his big brother, but without the fire and the drive. The man was quiet and reassuring, exactly what was needed when ill or injured.

“It looks like you needed that.”

Virgil grunted, never a fan of waking up.

But Andre knew this and had exactly what the injured engineer needed - a mug of steaming coffee.

Virgil forced the last few steps to full consciousness, and, pushing himself up, made a grab for the mug.

The mug moved away. “Uh-uh, stretch first.”

Shit.

It was a thing Andre made him do every time he woke. Before coffee, he had to stretch abused muscles that were forced to sleep in awkward positions due to his legs.

Virgil mumbled and grumbled, but did as he was bid. He knew how important the exercises were, but the lure of coffee was just cruel. He vaguely noted the yacht’s engine dropping to a slow cruise and the open ocean having just that touch more sway, rolling the yacht in the swell.

“Where are we?”

“Cecil says we’re visiting Minerva.”

“Oh.” Virgil blinked. He’d flown over the Minerva Reefs many, many times. They were a navigation marker not that far from Tracy Island. Though they were far enough away for him to have been asleep for some time. “How long was I out?”

That smile again. “Several hours. Did you good.” The nurse had placed the coffee on a side table and was helping Virgil sit up straight enough to consume the taunting liquid from heaven.

A breathless moment and the mug was in his hands and coffee was pouring down his throat. God, Andre made great coffee. Yet another reason to put up with his husband.

He surfaced at some point and managed a thank you that set the nurse grinning just as a coral reef started to drift past.

Virgil didn’t know much about the Minerva Reefs other than Melissa Fisher on Raoul swore about them..alot.

They were on the very edge of the Kermadec Ocean Sanctuary and she had wanted to add them to the exclusion zone for a very long time. But the reefs were owned by Tonga or Fiji, depending on which country you spoke to and the environment continued to suffer from it.

He vaguely remembered Gordon saying something about visiting the reefs in Four on several occasions and Virgil had no doubt that he and Melissa were likely doing some kind of sneaky ecological monitoring or some such. After all, the reefs were rather close to Tracy Island and Gordon rather passionate about such things.

As A Little Lightning cruised between two reef headlands, Virgil surmised they were at the northern of the two atolls.

As Virgil guzzled the last of his coffee, the yacht came to a complete halt in the lee of one of the headlands - if you could call it that, the reef barely made it above the water line. He heard the sea anchor deployed and there was suddenly silence except for the crashing of waves against coral and sand and the breeze.

Virgil closed his eyes and soaked it in.

The empty mug was tugged gently from his hand and he vaguely registered a plate being placed on the table beside him. “Cecil made pie.”

That snapped him out of it. “Pie?” The prankster could cook and he was suddenly assaulted with a delicious aroma.

“Steak and bacon, topped with mashed potato and cheese.” The plate had a generous serving along with salad piled up beside it. Andre was grinning at his expression. “He’s mine, you can’t have him.”

Virgil had to grin. “Well, at least I know one of the reasons why you nabbed him.”

Andre’s grin softened, but it was still a grin. “In the top five.” A hand landed on Virgil’s shoulder. “Eat up, you’ll need it for this afternoon’s workout.”

That deflated him a little.

The nurse noted what must have been in his expression. “Okay, perhaps it can be a brief session today.” A shrug. “After all, an atoll is hardly a swimming pool.”

“Virg trying to con you out of rehab?” Gordon bounced onto the deck, a grin on his face and that look of absolute relaxation the man got whenever he was out on the water.

“‘S not rehab.” So Virgil was pouting and acting like a child. “It’s maintenance.” Of what still worked, until the casts came off and then the hell would really start.

“Don’t let those baby browns lure you from the path of righteousness, Andre.”

“What? Like you attempted last time?” The nurse was grinning at the aquanaut.

That brought Gordon up short.

“I have to say that your eyes are a lighter brown, not quite the same colour, but the manoeuvring is almost identical.”

“What?” It was a two Tracy chorus shot at Andre with two brows, one dark, one light, shooting daggers at the nurse.

Andre just laughed and turned back to Virgil. “You going to eat your pie?”

The nurse’s blue eyes did some manoeuvring of their own and Virgil found himself snatching up the plate and hovering over it to protect his slice of pie.

Cecil chose that moment to appear. As usual, there was never a laugh far behind him as he was wearing a bright pink chef’s cap canted at an angle. But it was the two plates of pie in his hands that drew the attention of the other two men on deck.

Gordon didn’t hesitate, grabbing his plate and shovelling pie down his throat with barely a thank you. Virgil growled in his direction.

“What? It’s good pie. Cecil knows I appreciate him, don’t you, Cecil?”

But the cook was accepting a gentle kiss from his husband as the man took his plate, his other hand drifting from Cecil’s shoulder, down to the small of his back in a gesture simple but intimate enough for Virgil to turn away to give them privacy.

His eyes landed on Gordon, who’s face had an odd expression as he looked back at Virgil, as if he knew something that Virgil didn’t.

Virgil glared at him.

It, no doubt, had something to do with Kay. He would slap his little bro about the head later.

In the meantime...”So, what are we doing here?”

-o-o-o-

Bit 2

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Kermadec AU #minerva reef

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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How The Rolling Stones’ Exile on Main Street Earned Its Rep

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Apple TV+’s docuseries 1971: The Year That Music Changed Everything makes it seem like The Rolling Stones’ Exile On Main Street album was more fun to record than listen to, and that sets a high standard. The record distills the band’s sounds, from acoustic world music political ballads, through deep heartfelt blues, to honky tonk so funky you have to shake your ass. The group plays country, Southern blues, R&B, and the almost-punk-before-punk “Rip This Joint.” “Tumbling Dice,” is a radio staple. Keith Richards even took the lead vocals on a track to keep you happy. There was so much material, it came out as a double album. What could be more fun than that?

Richards’ Nellcôte mansion, on the Côte d’Azur in the South of France, was the hardest rocking musical getaway paradise in 1971. It was a Rock and Roll Main Street, and even the most mainstream players mainlined the exile vibe. Guitar god Eric Clapton and underground country legend Gram Parsons mixed drinks and drugs with movie stars like James Caan and Faye Dunaway, while playwright Terry Southern stopped taking note, according to Robert Greenfield’s book Exile on Main Street: A Season In Hell With The Rolling Stones.

William S. Burroughs inspired Mick Jagger to cut and paste a word collage together to form the lyrics to “Casino Boogie.” Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr dropped by the almost-week-long afterparty for Jagger’s wedding to Nicaraguan-born model Bianca Pérez Morena de Macias in Saint-Tropez. John Lennon, who was on methadone treatment, reputedly threw up at the foot of the grand staircase and passed out in it.

“The sunshine bores the daylights out of me,” Jagger sings on “Rocks Off,” the album’s opening song. The Rolling Stones strolled through their recent past darkly. The murder of Meredith Hunter at the Altamont speedway concert in late 1969 signaled, to many, the death of decade’s peace-and-love counterculture. But the band’s troubles went all the way back to the Redlands drug bust of 1967, and the death of Brian Jones. Adversity worked well, creatively, for the Stones, and they continued to pump out classics like “Gimme Shelter” in 1969, and controversy like “Brown Sugar” in 1971. Sticky Fingers, their ninth album, hung nicely at the top of the charts on both sides of the Atlantic.

The songs, and Allen Klein’s aggressive managerial money-making maneuvers, put the band in the 93% tax bracket for Britain’s highest earners. The Stones owed more than they could pay. To avoid penalties, they moved to France. Mick went to Paris. Mick Taylor, Bill Wyman and Charlie Watts bought or rented places along the French Riviera. Richards and his girlfriend, German-Italian actress and model Anita Pallenberg, moved into Nellcôte, a villa in Villefranche-sur-Mer, near Nice. During the Nazi occupation of France during World War II, the seaside mansion was the headquarters of the local Gestapo. Swastikas were carved into floor vents, staircases and ventilator grates.

Culture

How Tina Turner and Frank Zappa Whipped Up Some Dirty Love

By Tony Sokol

As pointed out in 1971: The Year That Music Changed Everything, the Stones had recently signed with Atlantic Records, and the label wanted an album. The band scoured the Riviera for a suitable recording studio, but wound up parking their mobile studio next to Keith’s house. Richards transformed the basement into a recording studio, and the band stole electricity from the railway tracks across the street to power amplifiers and the mobile recording truck.

The layout wasn’t the best. Bill Wyman, who is only credited for eight of the album’s songs on bass, plugged into an amp which was mic’d up in the hallway. Producer Jimmy Miller ended each take by running from the truck into the basement to check sound. The humidity caused the guitars to go out of tune. This gave the album its working title: “Tropical Disease.” The song “Ventilator Blues” was inspired by the conditions.

The band also had to deal with Keith’s erratic schedule. “I never plan anything,” Richards says in the documentary Stones in Exile. “Mick needs to know what he’s going to do tomorrow. Whereas I’m just happy to wake up and see who’s hanging around. Mick’s rock; I’m roll.” Richards, Taylor, Watts, pianist Nicky Hopkins, saxophonist Bobby Keys, drummer Jimmy Miller, and horn player Jim Price would jam all night while engineer Andy Johns ran the reels. Sessions would start when the guitarist rolled out of bed, or before he slipped off to put his son Marlon to sleep. After that Keith might pull a disappearing act, playing guitar in the un-mic’d second floor bathroom, or passing out. Richards was open about pot and alcohol, sharing liberally, but quiet about his heroin use.

Richards got clean in the spring of 1971, but hurt his back in a go-kart accident, according to Greenfield’s book. His vehicle flipped while racing his friend Tommy Weber at a track in Cannes. Richards took morphine for the pain, and within a few months, was using again. For sessions, he’d down a Mandrax, which is like a Quaalude, with whiskey. Charlie Watts was drinking brandy until he was past sloppy, and Jagger was taking speed to keep up with the hours Keith set. It was Richards’ place, and Mick was almost a hostage. When he left, it seemed nothing got done. Richards, left alone, could be downright dangerous. He almost burned himself, Anita and the entire house down when he fell asleep with a lit cigarette.

Richards was buying pure, uncut heroin from Castilian dealers. He was getting it by the kilo, and it became part of the social regimen of the villa. He shared so regularly with Gram Parsons that Mick got jealous, professionally. Parsons wanted Richards to produce his next album and join him on tour, which would have left the Stones without their guitarist for two years. Parsons was quietly asked to leave. Drugs split the Stones into two camps: Jagger, Wyman and Watts stuck to pills, booze and softer drugs. Richards, Taylor, producer Jimmy Miller, sax player Bobby Keys and engineer Andy Johns shot dope.

It cost them their gear. Wyman’s bass, Keys’ saxophone and nine of Richards’ guitars were stolen by dealers from Marseille who were owed money, while the entourage was watching television during the day. The Stones’ lawyers bribed local police to keep the party going, but even the most corrupt French cops, like Captain Louis Renault in Casablanca, have their limits. Besides, the Stones were welcomed in France because they were rich rock stars who were going to spend lots of money. If all their cash went to illegal and nontaxable drugs, the French government didn’t have much use for them.

The tipping point seems to have come with Anita Pallenberg. She maintained a steadily rocky relationship with the Stones. Richards stole, or saved, her from a paranoid and abusive Brian Jones, and there were rumors Jagger had an affair with her while filming Nic Roeg’s Performance in 1968. According to Greenfield’s book, Mick also slept with her while Richards was on the nod during the Exile sessions. Police came knocking to ask about a claim that Pallenberg had given heroin to the 14-year-old daughter of the villa’s chef.

The French police left without validating the charge, but said they’d be back to have a better look around the mansion. Richards and Pallenberg took off on his speedboat, fittingly named Mandrax II. The rest of the band slipped out soon after with the tapes. Pallenberg and Richards were charged with possession of heroin with intent to traffic in 1973. They were then exiled from France for the next two years.

The party continued when the Rolling Stones reconvened in Sunset Sound studios in Los Angeles. The band tossed TVs off the balconies of hotel rooms with Marc Bolan and Neil Young. The tapes for the album stretched from 1969 to 1972. The band edited hours of jams into song structure. Jagger scatted melodic placeholders for unfinished lyrics, and recruited session players like Billy Preston and Doctor John to fill in any sonic emptiness. The words to “Tumbling Dice,” for instance, were written last minute. The song has an unusual structure, as the verses become shorter, the choruses get longer. It may have Watts’ best drum performance.

Exile on Main Street contains some of Richards’ best guitar work. The album really belongs to Keith. “Happy” is almost entirely his. He’s on vocals, guitar and bass, with Miller on drums, Keys on maracas, overdubs from Taylor, and backing vocals from Jagger. “Sweet Black Angel” is a political love letter to civil rights activist Angela Davis. “Shake Your Hips” put the hair on ZZ Top’s lips. The album cover set the visual tone for punk. Some people claim it’s the Rolling Stones’ best work. It is a classic which catches them at their hedonistic peak. Its dirty, loosely played backing created an identifiable sound. The Stones’ first double LP, it is best heard in its entirety, and earned its street cred.

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1971: The Year Music Changed Everything is available to stream on Apple TV+ now.

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