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#rusty just wants some deer but
navybrat817 · 6 months
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Just Like That
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky suggests staying in a hotel together before an undercover mission, which would be fine if you didn't have a massive crush on the super soldier. Word Count: Almost 5k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, pining, flirting, slight possessive behavior, talk of undercover mission, "only one bed" trope, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: A combination of @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge and my Bucky Barnes Smut Menu, courtesy of @ellemj. "Only One Bed" Trope and the dialogue prompt in bold italics. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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The engagement ring on your finger suited you. Not large or overly flashy, the single diamond radiated a subtle sparkle. It was beautiful and a perfect fit, a representation of the unifying love of marriage. When you looked at it under the light, it was almost as if you could feel the love that Bucky had for you.
If only that were the case.
“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” You asked, taking a seat at the table across from Bucky.
“So we can practice and make sure we’re a convincing couple,” he replied.
You sighed as you glanced around the hotel room for the umpteenth time. A small sitting area, a dining and kitchen combination, a single bathroom, and a bedroom. When you pointed out that there was only one bed, Bucky reminded you of the expectation that the two of you had to sleep together while on assignment since you were going on a couple's retreat. Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have a crush on him, right?
Right.
You were completely enamored with Bucky Barnes, the handsome former assassin turned agent for the revamped SHIELD. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.
Just the two of you.
“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”
“What? No. Bucky, you aren't terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty.”
“You're talking to a guy who hasn't been on a real date since the 40s,” he deadpanned.
He had a point. Plus, from what you understood, Bucky wasn't exactly interested in dating anyone. Every time Steve or Natasha suggested he go on a date, he found a way to brush it off or change the subject.
Even if he was interested in dating, did he think of you as anything beyond a colleague?
Taking this assignment may have been a mistake.
“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you said.
“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”
You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a week just to back to being coworkers after?
“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.
He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Bucky. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”
You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”
With an exhale, you recited, “We met at a coffee shop. We both ordered the same drink.”
“An iced caramel macchiato,” he said.
“And we reached for the drink at the same time,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”
“And I immediately asked you out,” he smiled.
Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “You did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went to dinner and talked a bit about ourselves. You told me you're a mechanic and I told you I’m a teacher. And once dinner was over, we went back to that same coffee shop and we shared an iced caramel macchiato.”
“Even proposed to you at the same shop,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.
The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.
Not that you had to do any acting on your part.
You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone.
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, it just would've been nice if we met at a coffee shop,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.
“What’s wrong with how we met?” He asked, crossing his arms.
The metal arm gleamed under the light. You noticed that he had a tendency to wear long sleeves and gloves whenever he was in the building, but seeing him with his sleeve pushed up and missing glove? You would almost say he was comfortable around you.
Again, he had to play the part right.
You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. “Do you not remember what happened or are you just being nice?” You asked.
Months ago, the day you met Bucky, Steve informed you that he planned to introduce you to him after he came back from a long assignment. Not only were you excited to meet one of his best friends and a great soldier, but you had wanted to make a good impression on him. What you did was make an ass out of yourself when you turned the corner only to smack right into the former Winter Soldier.
And splattered your beverage on both of you in the process.
Instacrush and a horrible impression on your part.
Bucky’s lips curled in a smile as your eyes widened. “You do remember,” you said, wadding up a nearby napkin and tossing it at his face, which he easily caught. “Oh, my God! That’s why you chose ‘coffee shop' for this, didn't you?”
You concentrated so much on getting the backstory right that it didn't occur to you that he was maybe poking fun at you. He wasn't the kind of guy that liked making others feel bad though. Tease you, sure. Outright make fun of you at the risk of hurting your feelings? He would never.
“Hey, I didn't choose how we met, but I also didn't object,” he said, raising his hands in surrender when you went to throw another napkin at him. “And I wouldn't forget meeting you, doll. You make a lasting impression.”
You wished you had done something to make him remember you besides spilling a drink on him. “I guess making an idiot out of myself is a lasting impression,” you teased.
Something dark flashed in his eyes, making your breath hitch. “That’s not what I meant. You didn't make an idiot out of yourself and I don't like you thinking that or talking down about yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, not used to someone getting so defensive at your self-depreciation. There was something sexy and heartwarming about it. “You were very nice about the whole incident.”
“You were nice, too,” he said, gesturing to his torso. “I mean, you offered to buy me a new shirt.”
“Because I spilled my drink on it! I felt bad,” you said.
“And when I said you didn't have to buy me a new shirt, you said, ‘Are you sure I can't pay for the dry cleaning at least, Sergeant Barnes?’” he said in a falsetto voice.
He chuckled when you rolled your eyes. “I don't sound like that, first of all, and I was being considerate,” you said. You couldn't believe he remembered your exact words. “And you just gave me that half confused smile of yours before I grabbed napkins for both of us to clean up.”
“You mean this?” He asked, his lips stretching in that familiar awkward grin.
“Yeah, that,” you giggled, your heart doing that funny flip that happened far too often around him.
In the beginning, whenever you smiled at him, he gave you that very look in return. Somewhere along the way, the uncomfortable glances on his end became genuine fondness. It didn't mean anything though.
Just an agent being kind to another agent.
Bucky stared at you as you continued to giggle at the memory. “I’m sorry. I just-”
“I love your laugh,” he said, almost making you choke on your own breath. Nothing like forgetting how to be a human and breathe. “And your smile.”
Maybe he had switched back into practice mode. “You do?” You asked, playing along as you smiled directly at him.
He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice thick as he unfolded his arms. “You know, you're one of the people that actually smiles at me. And you look me in the eye when you talk to me.”
“Why wouldn't I?”
“Because some people are still afraid of me,” he whispered.
Your heart sank. He was a good man. A hero wrongly painted as a villain. It wasn't fair what he went through and you had no reason to fear him.
Why couldn't everyone else see the good in him?
“I’m not afraid of you, Bucky,” you promised. And after what he went through, frightening people was the last thing he would do. “Never have been. Never will be.”
“Maybe you should be,” he muttered, some of the light leaving his eyes.
Your eyes narrowed as you tempered the urge to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Seeing this vulnerable side of him also brought out your protective instinct. “Listen to me. You’re amazing and a good man, okay? And if I don't get to call myself an idiot for spilling a drink on you, then you don't get to say I should be scared of you, Sergeant Barnes,” you said with an air of finality.
He gave you an impressed smile. “Just like that? Because those are totally different things you're comparing.”
“Just like that,” you said, putting your hand on the table for him to take if he wished. “Do you trust that I'll have your back on this mission? Because I trust that you'll have mine no matter what.”
He stared at your upturned hand for a moment before he took it. “You're one of the only people I do trust,” he admitted.
His eyes bore into yours as you tried to find the words to respond. He wasn’t feeding you a line to make you feel good about yourself. Bucky Barnes trusted you.
“Then trust me when I say we got this,” you promised. You would look out for him and let him know that he hadn’t misplaced his trust in you.
“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.
The switch in topic jarred you, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”
It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.
“I’m curious,” he shrugged.
“Oh. Well. My last boyfriend dumped me for being an agent. Seriously, he didn't like the fact that I could kick his ass if I wanted to,” you told him, squeezing his hand without meaning to. He didn’t object. “Which I wouldn't.”
“You could kick my ass if you wanted to,” he winked. Physically, Bucky was broad and strong. You weren’t sure you could take him in a real fight, but you could take him another way if he ever offered. “And your ex sounds like an asshole if he can’t stand beside and support an amazing woman.”
You smiled humorlessly. “Thanks, Bucky, but I’m not-”
“I swear to fuck if you talk down about yourself again, I will put you over my knee,” he threatened, his eyes darker than they were seconds ago.
You didn’t laugh as he stared at you. Neither did he. Your clothes suddenly felt too heavy, your body too warm. Licking your lips, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying, “Is that a promise?”
Bucky pushed his chair back and pointed at his thigh, his eyes still on you. “Get over here and find out.”
Oh, fuck.
The sound of Bucky’s phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,” he muttered, taking his hand from yours. “It’s Steve. I better-”
“Yeah, you should answer that,” you said, almost knocking the chair over as you stood. “I think I'm going to call it a night.”
“Wait, what?” He asked, answering the phone. “Hold on, punk,” he said, covering the screen as he looked at you. “You’re going to bed now?”
Guilt settled in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. “Just going to lay down. I may not go to sleep right away. And we can practice more in the morning,” you replied. You just needed to step out of the room and take a breath.
He waited a beat before he nodded, the tension still lingering. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”
“Okay,” you nodded, leaving him alone so he could talk to Steve.
You splashed a bit of water on your face when you went to the bathroom to change. The assignment hadn’t started and you couldn’t keep your cool. With squinted eyes, you pointed at your reflection and mentally scolded yourself. Yes, you wanted Bucky Barnes and maybe, just maybe, some part of him wanted you. At least, he wanted you enough to put you over his knee.
You couldn't have him though. Could you? Mixing business with pleasure could lead to complications if you crossed that line, but it wasn’t like you’d break some major bylaw by being his girl.
Now wasn’t the time to think about that.
“Get your shit together,” you hissed, rushing through your nighttime routine and changing into your comfortable yet sexy nightgown.
Your eyes went to the bed when you left the bathroom. Just a regular hotel bed. Inviting, but not overly frilly. Large enough for the both of you, but small enough that you might end up in each other’s arms.
“It’s going to be a long night,” you muttered.
Sighing, you left a light on for Bucky to see and crawled into bed, shutting your eyes as he wrapped up his call with Steve. You tried to block out the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom. Maybe his nighttime routine would take a bit longer than you thought and you could drift off and wake up to the sight of his beautiful eyes and-
The bed dipped as Bucky curled up behind you, your eyes opening when he placed his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him. You were conscious of every shift in his body, every breath he took. How you could smell his lingering cologne as he pressed himself closer. How he ran warmer than you and you wanted him to heat you up even though you weren’t cold.
And that he wasn’t wearing a fucking shirt.
“I know you aren’t sleeping,” he whispered, his fingers brushing along the fabric that covered your skin. “Your heart’s beating too fast.”
He was right. It was about ready to burst through your chest. “Can’t sleep.”
“Why not?” He asked, helping you roll over so you were on your back. He didn’t remove his hand though. “Did my ‘threat’ make you uncomfortable?”
“No, it didn't,” you assured him, heat pooling between your legs that you couldn't prevent. “I wouldn't have continued with the banter if I was uncomfortable.”
“Just making sure,” he said. “I was only teasing.”
You huffed out a laugh in an effort to cover up the crushing feeling in your chest, your arousal fading to a dull ache. “Of course, you were,” you uttered. Teasing. Nothing more. “Good night, Bucky,” you said, turning your head away.
He brought a hand to your cheek and brought your face back toward him. How did his eyes look so blue in the faint light? “Don’t go to sleep yet, please.”
“Why not?”
“You rushed to bed and now you're shutting down. I clearly said or did something wrong,” he sighed, which made you feel bad. He hadn't done anything wrong in your eyes since it wasn’t his fault you wanted his teasing to mean something. “I need to fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix because you didn't break anything,” you said, the ring heavy on the finger. “But can I ask for a favor?”
“Of course,” he whispered.
You didn’t dare search out his gaze when you said, “I may need reminders this week that you don't actually have feelings for me.”
A few seconds went by before he asked in a small voice, “What?”
You took a breath to compose yourself. The last thing you needed to do was get upset for no good reason. “We’re going to hold hands and cuddle and share a bed and be a couple, but you may need to give me a reality check now and again that you only see me as an agent. Okay?”
Maybe he’d ask Steve for a new partner in the morning.
“You think I only see you as an agent?” He asked, sighing when you nodded. “I used to be good at this.”
“Good at what?”
“Teasing. Flirting,” he answered, leaning in close. He stopped just before his lips touched yours. “Kissing.”
“Wait. You were flirting with me?” you said, not moving forward or back as you put a hand on his chest. His heart raced as fast as yours. And your brain couldn’t compute that implication that he wanted to kiss you. “You weren’t just practicing for the assignment?”
He huffed out a laugh this time. “You’re killing me, doll,” he whispered, closing the distance.
You imagined Bucky kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered.
You never stood a chance.
“So, you like me?” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole week together for this assignment and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”
Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and trusting you.” He chuckled almost shyly as his words sank in. “I took this assignment because of you.”
A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Bucky Barnes liked you. Wanted you. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.
He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.
Like he wanted to own you.
His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”
Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.
Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.
You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.
“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”
You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the super soldier was an entirely different level of gorgeous. He towered over even the largest of agents, with the exception of Steve, and his dark lashes framing his steel eyes were enough to pull you under.
And who were you compared to him? Just another agent. Average.
“Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”
The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth.
“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?
He smirked against your skin before he reached down and tore your panties away. “I haven't gone on a date because of you.”
Your body throbbed with need as you met his gaze. “You're just saying that to get in my pants,” you joked.
His eyes raked down your body, stopping between your trembling thighs as he pushed his pants and underwear down. “If I had my way, I would've taken you out first,” he said, drawing a moan from you when he wrapped a hand around his thick cock. “But all I can think about right now is how loud you’ll say my name when I make you come.”
“Bucky,” you moaned, tempted to reach down and touch yourself to the sight of him.
“Louder than that,” he said smugly, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick folds. “Fuck, I wanna take my time and explore you. Make you feel like a goddess. Treat you the way you deserve.”
It warmed your heart and sent another wave of desire through you knowing he wanted to take care of you. “I know you'll treat me well,” you smiled, opening your legs wider. “But for now, please, fuck me.”
He didn't ask about birth control, which you were on. You didn't ask about condoms. It didn't matter. You wanted to feel all of him.
You glanced down as he lined himself up, watching as he slowly eased into you. It was overwhelming as you took every inch, your mouth falling open with a moan. You floated in a cloud of lust, the sound of his groan reaching your ears.
“Look at me,” he ordered as he bottomed out.
Your eyes flew to his as he gripped your chin. The feel of him inside you, his eyes staring so intently into yours that he practically touched your soul. It was almost too much. And that was when he began to move, the weight of his body on top of yours as he fucked you in slow and deep thrusts. It was the kind of lovemaking that would make you crave more.
Crave him.
“Knew you'd take me well,” he grunted. You whined, the praise going straight to your core as you tightened around his thick cock. Your walls couldn't stop gripping him as he slid in and out. “Knew your pussy would be greedy for me. Won’t let me go.”
Your head fell back against the pillow, dizzy as he trapped your body under his. As he rolled his hips, you wondered if he’d let you ride him at some point. Maybe he’d fuck up into you as he brought your hips down. Or maybe he’d lay back and cup your breasts, let the weight bounce in his hands as you took all of him.
You’d take whatever he gave you.
The growing pleasure within you was like you were burning from the inside out, each movement from him stoking the flames. His low groans mixed with your whines, his thrusts increasing in speed when he brought his thumb to your clit. Your hand worked its way back into his hair as you cried out his name, your control slipping further and further away as he took over.
“Just like that,” he moaned. “Don’t hold back on me. Wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”
“Bucky, I'm gonna…” you trailed off, your orgasm building fast in your core and ready to burst.
“Come,” he finished for you, a filthy smirk on his face as he laced his fingers with yours.
One more thrust and you were gone, his name falling from your lips as you came. Your mouth stayed open as you spasmed, pleasure rushing from head to toe. You panted and didn't care if you'd ever properly breathe again. That was how good it felt.
“I’m close, doll,” he gritted, resembling a growl as he continued to fuck you and chase his release. “Gonna come inside you. Gonna own you.”
“Come inside me, Bucky,” you begged, watching through half-lidded eyes as his face contorted in ecstasy. It was such an erotic sight. “Please.”
He buried himself deep with a long moan as he filled you in hot, thick spurts, nuzzling his face in your neck when he finished. He said your name as he heavily breathed against your neck and it was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. You wrapped your arms around him when he stayed inside you, not at all bothered as your mixed release slowly trickled out.
You didn't want him to let you go.
“Well,” you huffed, a dopey smile on your face as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I don't think we’ll have a problem convincing people we care about each other.”
He chuckled, kissing your warm skin. “And we won't have a problem sharing a bed,” he said, keeping you close as you yawned. “Sleep, doll. I’ve got you.”
“I’ve got you, too,” you said, feeling him smile against you as you drifted off.
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The delicious ache between your thighs was the second thing you noticed when you woke up. The first, of course, was Bucky’s arm and leg draped over you: warm, protective, perfect. He was still fast asleep, the blanket pooled around his waist, completely at ease with the world. You could get used to waking up like this.
You hesitated before you touched his cheek, not wanting to wake him as you kissed his forehead. You wished you had time to kiss every scar on his body and worship him the way he said he wanted to worship you. The two of you would have to leave the bed sooner or later. There was work to do.
“Mmm. Morning,” he said, his voice laced with sleep as he cracked an eye open.
“Morning,” you whispered, cuddling closer as he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed over the ring. The motion made you brush against his crotch and you were close enough to hear the hitch in his breath. You did it again, keeping your gaze innocent as he opened his eyes more and groaned.
Yes, there was work to do, but it was still early.
“You’re still horny? Didn’t I fuck you hard enough last night?” He teased.
“Yeah, I’m still horny,” you replied. Waking up next to him would arouse anyone. “Need you to fuck me again.”
“You won’t be able to walk if I fuck you again,” he smirked, rolling on top of you and digging his fingers into your waist.
“Should’ve known you’d be a cocky boyfriend,” you teased back, your heart thundering in your chest as he leaned down and skimmed kisses along your jaw. “Sorry, we didn’t put a label on this and there’s still stuff to figure out and the mission and-”
“Hey. Boyfriend, your man, whatever you want to call me, I’m yours,” he cut you off, his mouth drifting to your neck. “And I still owe you a date, got it? You’re my girl. You’re mine.”
“I'm yours,” you gasped when he nipped your skin hard enough to sting, his tongue soothing it after. You were his and he was yours. “So, we're a couple now? Just like that?” You smiled as he worked his way back to your lips.
Bucky answered you with a kiss. “Just like that.”
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I struggled a bit with this one after having to scrap almost 2k and go in another direction, but I ended up falling in love with it. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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Instacrush
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max verstappen x reader
Content warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, language, daddy kink, pining, flirting, possessive behavior, one bed trope,...
Word count: almost 7k 
Note: I'm gonna add a smau at the end so keep reading!
My masterlist
The engagement ring on your finger suited you perfectly. It wasn’t overly large or flashy, but the single diamond gave off a subtle, delicate sparkle. It was beautiful and felt just right, symbolizing the love and unity of marriage. When you looked at it in the light, you almost thought you could feel the love Max had for you.
If only that were true.
“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” you asked, sitting down at the table across from Max.
“So we can practice and make sure we seem like a real couple,” he replied.
You sighed, your gaze once again drifting around the hotel room. There was a small sitting area, a dining space connected to a kitchenette, one bathroom, and a bedroom. You had already pointed out the single bed, and Max, ever the professional, reminded you that part of the assignment meant you were expected to share it. After all, this was a couple’s retreat. It wouldn’t have been a problem—if only you didn’t have a crush on him.
If only it were that simple.
You were completely enamoured with Max Verstappen, the handsome three-time F1 World Champion. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was the first time you met him on your first day at work. You were so caught up looking around the paddock, so excited for your first time ever set foot in the land of speed. You were just an intern working in the social media department. Landing a job during the global economic recession was a dream come true for you, not to mention, working for such a big and top-tier team like Red Bull. And that’s where you bumped into him, his can of Red Bull splashed all over your new team uniform. And honestly, you didn’t remember much since you were busy looking staring at his eyes. The bluest eyes you have ever seen. It was like the water in the ocean in  Maldives that you once saw in some travel magazines. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.
Just the two of you.
“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”
“What? No. Max, you aren't a terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty,” you said. 
“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you added.
“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”
You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a few months just to back to being coworkers after?
“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.
He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Max. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”
You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much-needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”
With an exhale, you recited, “We met at the track. Both slammed into each other. Both said sorry at the same time”
“And you gave me your hands for me to get up,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”
“And we immediately befriended at first,” he smiled.
Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “We did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went on that reserved dinner with the team and talked a bit about ourselves.” 
It was all the truth, except for the fact that you guys were never more than friends since he was with Kelly, and you. Well, you were just you, there’s nothing really special about you for him to like. You aren’t those supermodels he used to date, nor have the skinniest body type, you are chubbier, with red hair and freckles across your cheeks. Before accepting his request to be in a PR relationship with him just so he gets along with the image of not being a notorious playboy who drives a fast car as an occupation, you did ask him WHY YOU? WHY NOT SOME OTHER GIRLS? AND LET’S BE HONEST ANY OTHER GIRLS WHO ARE PRETTIER WOULD DIE TO FILL IN THE JOB, SO WHY YOU? He just stood there looking at you once again with the deepest set of blue eyes that made your knees go weak, We are friends so this is what a friend should do, right? Help each other out. And y/n I really need your helping hands now. 
“Even proposed to you at the same restaurant,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.
The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.
Not that you had to do any acting on your part.
You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone. 
The silence between you two was deafening, filled only by the sound of your own heart breaking. You longed for his words to be true, for him to truly want you as his girlfriend. But deep down, you knew it was all pretend. Your fingers fidgeted with the ring again, a constant reminder of the lie you were living. The weight of the situation was almost unbearable. 
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, what a briliant story you have in mind,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.
“Well, it was true, y/n.” 
You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional. 
“Most of it only, Max. Anyway, enough of that. Let’s move on,”
Max looked unsatisfied with your response, his blue eyes searching your face. He could tell you were deflecting, which was both attractive and frustrating. “Okay then. How about we move on to the next part of our relationship? The first date.” He leaned back in his chair and you mimicked his movement. 
“Ah, our first date,” you said, the memory bringing a smile to your face. “It was a classic dinner-and-a-movie type date, right?”
Max chuckled at your summation of your first date. “Yeah, it was pretty basic, but it was our first date,” he said, his voice low. “I wanted to keep things simple and focus on just the two of us. No fancy restaurants or anything like that.”
You recalled how nervous you were leading up to the date, spending hours trying to figure out what to wear and worrying about what to say. In hindsight, you didn’t need to have been so worried.
“But you looked beautiful that night,” Max continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “You always do.”
You tried to ignore the way your heart quickened at his compliment. How was it that Max Verstappen, F1 World Champion, and certified heartthrob, could say something so casually that made you feel like the most beautiful woman alive? 
“Thanks, Max,” you said, your cheeks starting to heat up. You twisted the ring on your finger, your nervous habit making its appearance. “You looked pretty good yourself, if I remember correctly.”
Max chuckled softly, his eyes fixated on your hand. “Are you nervous, Schatje?” he teased, a playful sparkle in his blue eyes. “You’re fiddling with your ring again.”
Your cheeks flushed even more. You should be used to his teasing by now, especially after the time you two had spent together recently while preparing for this PR mission. And yet, every time he called you darling, your heart would do somersaults in your chest. 
“No, I’m not,” you denied, knowing how unconvincing you sounded. “Just… practicing my part, you know. For the acting thing.”
Max’s eyes darkened slightly as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming on the armrest. He knew that you were avoiding something, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s keep going.”
He began to recite the next bit of their cover story. “What’s our favorite couple activity?”
You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the mention of couple activity. "Well," you began, your voice shaky, "our favorite couple activity is definitely cooking together. It's a great way for us to bond and spend quality time together." 
“Well it must be you will be the chef and I’m your assistant then, since I couldn’t even boil an egg to save my life, Liefje.”
Max's self-deprecating comment took you a little by surprise. You were used to seeing him as the confident, world-class athlete on the track, not as a hopeless cook in the kitchen.
You chuckled softly at his admission. "Well, I guess you'll have to stick to being my sous-chef then. I can teach you a thing or two in the kitchen."
Max groaned exaggeratedly. "I suppose I'll have to stick to fetching the ingredients and looking pretty," he joked.
You rolled your eyes playfully at his remark, unable to stop yourself from smiling. "Yes, you can be the pretty one, Max. I'll do all the hard work in the kitchen."
He chuckled, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips. "Well, I guess I should be thankful that I have a gorgeous girl doing all the cooking for me, then."
His compliment left you feeling warm and tingly, but you tried to brush it off and stay focused on the task at hand.
"But you have to promise me one thing, Max," you insisted, trying to maintain your composure. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for your condition. "What's that, Schatje?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.
You leaned forward a bit, your eyes meeting his. "You have to be my personal taste tester. Gotta make sure everything is just right."
Max chuckled at your condition, a smirk playing at his lips. "Ah, so I'm not only your sous-chef, but I also get the privilege of being your taste-tester?" he teased.
You nodded, a sly smile of your own on your lips. "That's right. You'll be my human guinea pig. No complaining, just eating." Max groaned dramatically, pretending to look disappointed.
Despite his initial reluctance, Max couldn't help but smile at your cheeky request. "Okay, okay, I'll be your taste-tester on one condition," he countered.
Your curiosity piqued, you asked, "And what's that?"
Max leaned forward, his eyes meeting yours, "You have to give me one of your special desserts afterward."
You laughed, surprised at his audacity. "Oh, now you're pushing it, Verstappen," you quipped. "But I suppose I can throw in a dessert for you, as a token of my appreciation for your taste-testing services."
Max leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. "Deal," he said, a playful grin on his face. "Let's hope your cooking skills are as good as your baking, Liefje."
“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.
The switch in topic jarred you. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”
It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.
“I’m curious,” he shrugged.
You swallowed hard, unsure of how to answer. Truth be told, your life was dominated by work, leaving little time for relationships. But if you explained that to Max, he'd probably just call you a workaholic and laugh. He was the epitome of work hard, play just as hard.
"I don't know," you finally said, trying to sound casual. "I guess I just haven't found the right person."
Max scrutinized you but didn't press the topic further. Instead, he took a sip of his water, his eyes never leaving your face. Max wasn't buying your nonchalant attitude. He leaned back in his chair, still watching you closely. "I don't believe you. You're a beautiful woman, and yet you're single."
The compliment caught you off guard. Coming from Max Verstappen, the three-time FIA Formula One World Champion, it was a lot to take in. Trying to keep your cool, you retorted, "You don't have to flatter me, Max. I know I'm not some supermodel or something."
Max's lips curled up into a sly smile. He leaned even closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Who said anything about comparing you to a supermodel?" he teased.
You felt your heart skip a beat at his proximity. He was even more attractive up close, with his sharp features and those intense blue eyes. Despite your best attempts to keep your cool, you found yourself blushing again.
"Come on, Schatje," Max said, his voice dropping an octave. "Just tell me why you don't have a boyfriend."
The intensity in Max's eyes was almost overwhelming. You fidgeted nervously in your seat, feeling increasingly flustered under his gaze. Why was he so insistent on this topic? You tried to come up with a witty retort, a clever way to deflect, but your mind was drawing a blank. His intense gaze made it hard to think straight. "It's not a big deal, Max," you finally managed to say, your voice betraying your growing nervousness.
"Bullshit." He leaned back in his chair, studying you once again. "You're avoiding the question. There must be a reason why you don't have a boyfriend."
Max's persistence made you feel inexplicably flustered. He was so adamant about knowing the reason behind your single status. You wracked your brain, trying to come up with a convincing answer that wouldn't give away your secret. But the more you fidgeted and avoided his gaze, the more he seemed to be onto you. "Come on, y/n,” he coaxed again, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his legs. "Just give me a straight answer."
Max's smirk widened as he saw the effect he was having on you. He could tell he was making you nervous, and that only made him more determined to get the answer he wanted. "You're making this even more suspicious, you know," he said, his voice laced with gentle mockery. "The more you avoid the question, the more interested I become."
There was something about the way Max said that that sent a shiver down your spine. Was he just teasing you, or was there a hint of genuine interest in his voice? It was hard to tell. "You're relentless, you know that?" you mumbled, trying to cover your nerves with sarcasm.
Max chuckled, clearly enjoying how much he was getting under your skin. "I can be very persistent when I want something."
Max's admission sent a flutter through your stomach. He was relentless in his pursuit of an answer, and it was both frustrating and exhilarating. You fidgeted in your seat, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "And you always get what you want, don't you?" you retorted, aiming for a tone of sarcasm.
Max chuckled at your attempt at sarcasm. He seemed unfazed as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixated on you. "I do, usually," he agreed. "But you're proving to be quite the challenge, y/n."
He took in your flushed cheeks and shifting eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.
Max's gaze seemed to pierce through you, reading your every reaction. "You're blushing like a schoolgirl, Schatje," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
His observant nature was both impressive and irritating. You tried to compose yourself, to appear unfazed by his words. But the more he teased, the more flustered you became.
The sound of your phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,”  you muttered, “It’s Christian. I better-”
“Yeah, you should answer that,” he said, “I think I'm going to call it a night. It was simply lovely to have such a conversation with you, Lief”
You watched as Max stood from the table, a smirk still tugging at his lips as he stretched his arms over his head. The way his shirt pulled tight against his muscles didn’t escape your notice, but you quickly turned your focus to your phone. Christian’s name flashed on the screen, a reminder that despite the playful teasing and lingering tension, you were still on assignment.
Clearing your throat, you answered the call, doing your best to sound professional. “Hey, Christian. What’s up?”
Max lingered by the doorway to the bedroom, his blue eyes still watching you as he leaned casually against the frame. The man was frustratingly calm and composed, as if he hadn’t just spent the last several minutes flustering you beyond belief.
“Just checking in. Wanted to make sure everything’s running smoothly with you and Max,” Christian’s voice came through the speaker.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied, glancing at Max again. He raised an eyebrow, clearly hearing the conversation. “We’re just going over the cover story. Making sure we’re on the same page for tomorrow.”
“Good, good. Remember, we need you two to look convincing as a couple. This retreat is high-profile, and we can’t afford any slip-ups. Play the part, but don’t overdo it,” Christian said.
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Got it. We’ll be convincing.”
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, you ended the call and set your phone down, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Max was still standing in the doorway, his gaze soft but unreadable.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost concerned.
“Yeah,” you replied, though your heart still raced from the earlier tension. “Just… trying to make sure I don’t mess this up.”
Max pushed himself off the doorframe and took a few steps closer to you. “You won’t. You’re doing great, Schatje. Better than I expected, actually.”
The compliment caught you off guard, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—there was more behind his words than simple encouragement. But you couldn’t afford to let your hopes get the better of you. This was a job. Nothing more.
“Well, I guess I should get some sleep too,” you said, standing up from the table. “Big day tomorrow.” Max nodded, his eyes flicking briefly to the bed in the other room. “Right. About the bed…”
You froze, realizing that you had been so caught up in the conversation earlier that you hadn’t given the sleeping arrangement much thought. But now, with the two of you standing there in a hotel room alone, the reality of sharing a bed with Max Verstappen hit you like a freight train.
“I can take the couch,” he offered quickly, sensing your hesitation.
“No, Max. It’s fine. We’re supposed to be a couple, right? Couples share beds.” You tried to sound confident, but your voice wavered slightly.
Max’s lips quirked into a small smile. “True. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
You shook your head, summoning what little courage you had left. “I’ll be fine. It’s just sleeping. No big deal.”
Max didn’t argue, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something unreadable. He gestured towards the bedroom. “Ladies first.”
You swallowed hard and walked towards the bed, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Max followed close behind, and as you both climbed into the bed, the space between you felt like an ocean. You were hyper-aware of every movement, every breath.
Max lay on his back, one arm resting behind his head, while you kept to your side, facing away from him. The silence was thick, the air filled with unspoken thoughts.
“Goodnight, y/n,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Goodnight, Max,” you replied, your voice tight with nerves.
You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to fall asleep. But the warmth of Max’s body next to you, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all too distracting. You tried to push the thoughts away, reminding yourself that this was all pretend. That Max Verstappen didn’t see you as anything more than a colleague helping him out.
But as the minutes ticked by, sleep continued to evade you, and you couldn’t help but wonder—what if?
What if this wasn’t just pretend? What if Max felt the same pull, the same unspoken connection that you did? What if, somewhere in the midst of this fake relationship, something real was beginning to bloom?
You shook your head at the thought, frustrated with yourself for even entertaining such a ridiculous idea. Max was a superstar, a world champion, and you were just… you.
But as you lay there, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing beside you, it was hard to ignore the tiny spark of hope flickering in your chest.
Maybe—just maybe—there was more to this story than either of you realized.
You shifted slightly in bed, careful not to disturb Max, who was still lying quietly beside you. You glanced over at him, only to find that his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.
"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly, turning his head to look at you.
You shook your head, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze. "Too much on my mind, I guess."
Max smiled faintly. "Same here."
There was a brief silence between you, and in the quiet of the night, it felt like the weight of unspoken words was suffocating. You wanted to ask him if this was all just a game to him, if he felt the same tension you did, but you were too afraid of the answer.
Instead, you settled for something safer. "Do you ever get tired of it? The pressure, the constant spotlight?"
Max turned his head fully towards you, his expression thoughtful. "Sometimes. It’s part of the job, though. I’ve learned to live with it. But yeah, there are days when it gets overwhelming."
You nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "I get that. It’s hard to find balance when the whole world is watching."
Max's eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like the walls between you two were crumbling. "Yeah. But it’s not all bad, you know? There are people who make it easier."
You looked at him, your heart fluttering at the implication of his words. Was he talking about you? Or was this just part of his charm?
Before you could respond, Max shifted closer, closing the small gap between you. His proximity made your heart race, and you held your breath as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
"You make it easier, y/n," he whispered, his voice low and sincere.
Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. There was no more pretending, no more acting for the sake of the mission. It was just the two of you, lying in the dark, and suddenly, it felt like everything you had been holding back was on the verge of spilling over.
"Max," you whispered, your voice trembling as you struggled to find the right words.
But before you could say anything more, Max leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. You imagined Max kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered. You never really stood a chance before him. 
“So, you like me? Was that why you kissed me, or, ” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole acting and pretending thing ahead and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”
Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and teasing you.” He said. “You know Kelly dumped me because I remembered your coffee order when we were at the hospitality not hers,”
You stared at Max in shock, your heart thudding loudly in your chest. Kelly dumped him over... you?
"You remembered my coffee order?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Max chuckled softly, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek as he held your gaze. "Yeah," he replied. "Every single time. It wasn't something I planned to memorize, but I guess I couldn't help it. You’ve always been in the back of my mind, even when I didn’t realize it." You blinked, overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions. All the late-night conversations, the teasing, the moments when his touch lingered a little longer than necessary—it all clicked into place. He wasn’t just playing a part. He liked you. Max liked you.
"You really are an idiot," you said with a breathy laugh, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. The tension between you two, the unspoken feelings, had been weighing on you for so long, but now everything felt so clear.
Max grinned, his face inches from yours. "Takes one to know one," he teased, his lips brushing against yours again.
You leaned into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. This time it wasn’t tentative or cautious. It was everything you had been holding back, all the feelings you had suppressed because you thought it was just part of the job, part of the act.
But this was real. You were real.
When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. Max’s forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your hands.
"Guess we’re going to have to make this mission even more believable now, huh?" Max murmured, his voice filled with that same teasing warmth.
You smiled, biting your lip as you looked up at him. "We might have to practice a little more, just to make sure we’re convincing enough."
Max laughed, a sound that sent warmth coursing through your veins. "I think we can manage that." 
A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Max Verstappen liked you. Wanted you. “Please do,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.
He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.
Like he wanted to own you.
His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”
Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.
Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.
You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.
“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”
You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the driver was an entirely different level of gorgeous. “Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”
The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth, suckling gently as his hands continued to explore. You writhed beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. "Please,"
He chuckled, the vibration making your breast hum in his mouth. "Please what, baby?" He asked, his free hand moving to your other breast, pinching the nipple gently. You whimpered, your hips bucking against the floor. "Please touch me, please kiss me, please fuck me,"
“You are such a needy baby,”
"His hands slid down your sides, gripping your thighs and spreading them apart. He settled between them, his breath hot against your core. "You want me to touch you here?" He asked, his fingers gently caressing your folds through your underwear."
“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?
He paused, lifting his head to look at you with a mix of confusion and realization. "Because of me?" He asked softly. "Because I'm always around, and no one else can compare?" He slid a finger underneath the fabric, touching you for the first time.
His finger traced your slit, gathering your wetness before pushing inside gently. You let out a sigh of relief, your hips tilting to meet his finger. "Is that it? Is that why you don't have a boyfriend?" He asked, curling his finger inside you, rubbing your g-spot. 
“Y-yes… It's you, has always been you, Max.” you gasped.
He added another finger, pumping in and out of you slowly. His voice was low, filled with a dominance you'd never heard from him before. "So, every time you went on a date, every time they kissed you, it was me you thought of?” 
His fingers moved faster, curling and rubbing against your g-spot. "And every time they tried to touch you, hold your hand, it was my hand you wished was there instead?" He asked, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles. "Is that it, baby?”
But what can you say more besides moaning at his touch. 
He grinned wolfishly, his eyes locked onto yours. "You can't speak because you're so turned on, thinking about me instead of them. Isn't that right?" His fingers continued to pump in and out of you, his thumb pressing circles onto your swollen nub. "Say it.”
But you’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking straight at all when all he did was teasing you like that.
He growled, his face hovering over your core. "Say it, or I'll stop." His fingers paused, buried deep inside you. You squirmed, your hips bucking, silently begging him to continue. "Say it," he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.
“Max” you breathed, clenching your legs together.
He tsked disapprovingly, prying your legs apart with his broad shoulders. "Not until you say what I want to hear." His golden eyes bore into yours, filled with desire and determination. "Say, 'Only you, Max. Only you.'" His fingers remained motionless. 
“Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.” 
His expression softened, and he rewarded you by moving his fingers again, crooking them inside you. "Good girl," he praised, his voice gentle. "Now, wrap your legs around my shoulders. I'm going to make you come with my mouth.”
You eagerly wrapped your legs around his shoulders, locking your ankles behind his neck. He lowered his face between your thighs, his breath hot against your wet flesh. "You're so ready for me, baby," he murmured, his thumbs spreading you open. "So swollen and needy.”
And without further teasing, he pressed his lips to your clit and sucked. Hard. His fingers curled inside you again, hitting that perfect spot. You gasped, your back arching off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. "Oh god oh god oh god,"
Max smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue. "Feel good, baby?" he breathed. His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions. You didn't know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Max flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking. "You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?" His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the sheets and spread you even wider for the taking.
He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.
And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside.
The act surprised your lover almost as much as it did you-not quite, but almost -upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him. When you whined a loud, protracted, 'FUCK!' he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this. Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Max knew you were close. He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else's. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.
 "Come on my face, Liefde. Show me what a good girl you are.”
And suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his head you feared you might snap it in two.
He slowly licked you clean, his gaze never leaving yours. "You taste even better than you look," he murmured, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He leaned in close, pressing his forehead to yours. "And you look... like a masterpiece.
You took his face in closer and sucked your arousal off his tongue. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his, where your juices had no doubt collected too. That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Max could’ve wanted.
Max's eyes widened in surprise as you sucked his face clean, his hands instinctively coming up to hold your head in place. He groaned into your mouth, his own arousal spiking at the filthy, careless way you were using your tongue.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth to explore and taste every inch of it. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer against him, letting you feel the hard length of his cock pressed up against you.
“I need to fuck you now,” he said.
His voice was rough with desire, his patience worn thin. He reached between your legs, grabbing your thigh and tossing your leg over his shoulder. He positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your soaked folds. "Hold on, Schatje,"
He slammed into you with no warning, burying his cock deep inside your pussy in one brutal thrust. You cried out in surprise and pleasure, your walls clenching around him as he fills you completely. He grabbed your other thigh, holding you in place as he started pounding into you with ruthless intensity.
“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”
You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Max kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his dick wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,
“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”
“My perfect fucking Schatje, so good at taking my cock.”
Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Max wanted you.
"Shit, you were made for this, weren't you baby? Made to take my load." He's so lost in the way you whine, telling him he's right and he knows it when he feels the way your body clenches and flutters around him.
He pistons his hips, fucking you with abandon, his balls slapping against your ass with each brutal thrust. He reaches up to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly as he snarls in your ear. "Gonna fill this fucking pussy up with my cum, mark you as mine.”
His grip on your thighs tightened as he continued to pound into you, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. "Not till I say so, baby. You gonna wait for me, aren't you?" He grunted, his own release barreling down on him. 
“Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open.
“I'm Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Max practically growls, not missing a beat while still thrusting in you.
He grunted approvingly at your desperate pleas, his face contorting with effort as he held back his own release. "Not... till... I... say... so..." He punctuated each word with a powerful thrust, his voice harsh with command. "Look at me, baby. Look at me when you beg."
You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please, daddy.” 
“Jesus, you’re making me so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”
“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”
His face contorted with pleasure as you finally gave him what he wanted. "Good girl," he hissed, his pace becoming frenzied as he finally let himself go. "You're gonna take it all, aren't you? Gonna take every last drop?" 
“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-you-daddy-I'm gonna-" 
“ I’m 'yours sweet girl, all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.
"Want your cum daddy" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.
"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Max right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair now disheveled. 
“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-
"Of course Liefje" Max presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"
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yourusername first day at work, welcome to the playground - newbie.
view all 728 comments
user1 what a dream job 😭
user2 I wanna be there toooooo 😭
urfriend my baby's dream finally came true
yourusername wish me luck bestie
user4 what is your job?
yourusername i'm the new intern in social media for RBR
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liked by redbullracing, yourusername, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 3,962,028 others
maxverstappen1 this new (intern) social media manager has me doing all sorts of weird things, apparently the fans like me doing this…I’m yet to be convinced 😂 might need a long nap after this.
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username12 fyi we absolutely love photos like these 😂
landonorris I nearly fell off my chair laughing after scrolling through this post 😂😂😂
username13 thank you the new intern for convincing max to bless us with a world of meme worthy content, i beg for more
username14 he has no idea how much we love seeing this side of him does he???
username15 pls promote ur new intern to be ur lifelong admin @/redbullracing
redbullracing let me ask my boss first ferrari we still have open position for the new intern, wanna join? redbullracing back off mercedesamgf1 or u can work for us instead, why be an intern when u can be our new admin for a very demure, very mindfull team! username16 are they battling for the new intern 😂 username17 on track and offtrack battle
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yourusername life lately as the new intern at @/redbullracing
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username18 so u r the new intern that blessed us with so much max's meme
yourusername no need to tks me 🤗 username18 u r so pretty, might be my new wife
username19 oooooh max's in the like
username20 aww so cute
username3 the outfits slay
landonorris uhhh 
username21 WHAT ARE YOU EOING HERE maxverstappen1 she's not on ur team, mate landonorris so i can not say hello to her ???
yourbff you are so effortlessly gorgeous please 😫 and whose hand is that wifey
username22 wtf is max and lando beefing in the comment
username23 shut the f up she's a swiftie OMG i need a challenge with max and checo with taylor
yourusername working on it, but these two know nothing 'bout the pop culture 😭 username24 OMG the devil works hard but u gotta work harder girl
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redbullracing Taylor Swift 1 - 0 Chestappen
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maxverstappen1 do not shame ur drivers publicly like that
redbullracing we do not 🤗 landonorris how can they not know about THE TAYLOR georgerussell63 i would have won this charlesleclerc if the ferrari's challenge could be this easy
username30 they cant even score a point
username31 OMG Chestappen
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f1wags new wag alert!!! This might be the new gf of Max and she also works for Red Bull too
username32 OMG is she y/n the old intern now admin
f1wags that's her
username33 i follow her too and she is soooooooo pretty
username34 her new ideas for all their challenges are cool too
username1 😒😒
username2 BOOOO👎
username3 so it’s official then huh?
username13 BODY IS TEAA
username24 HOLYYY
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and 3,344,234 others
maxverstappen1 i think this called hard launch and yes this is my new gf @/yourusername took all the pics since she thought i'm not very good at it
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darklordofthesimp · 6 months
Text
Anything VIII (König x Reader)
The 8th instalment in the Anything-Verse
Main Masterlist
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7
Like the characters? Read their fics below!
Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist
Series Summary:  A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.
A/N: No one make any sudden movements. I have returned. Excuse how rusty my writing is.
Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Unrequited Pining || Tension
Warning: Graphic Language
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What a sight you must behold. 
Sleepless, stressed and on the verge of your breaking point… again. 
It was no wonder that Saint watched you with deep concern, no wonder that they held their pen like it was a lifeline rather than just stationary. You wanted them to just understand, you needed them to know that you weren’t insane- everything was so elaborately planned and you were just on the verge of unravelling it. 
“Saint,” you rasped, “there are people in on this…. The brass. I think König too. It’s a fuck-fight.” 
The doctor leaned back into their chair, eyes never leaving your jittering figure. The sigh that fell from their lips released none of the tension balled tightly in their shoulders. 
“Birdy…” 
You stood to your feet. You didn’t want to hear it. 
You were sick of hearing people say your name in that tone: placatingly, diminishing your thoughts and dismissing you as if you were the local crazy. 
Maybe you were the local crazy. 
Is that how everybody saw you? Did everybody truly think that you were so off-kilter that you’d hallucinate a coup? You were a victim of assault- not insanity. 
“Stop,” Saint put their pen down firmly on the table, drawing your attention back to the situation at hand. “I’m listening. I’m just a little…  hesitant. It’s a very serious accusation, Birdy, but I’m not doubting the source.” 
You shot the medical officer a knowing glare. “Oh,” you drawled sarcastically, “because everybody takes me seriously at this unit with my history, right?” 
“I don’t give a fuck about whether anybody else takes you seriously,” Saint’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I take you seriously, Birdy.” 
The room was doused in tension. Your fingers curled to form tight fists, skin stretching over your knuckles until they turned white. You don’t know why you were angry at their declaration, angry at their loyalty. 
Maybe it was because you knew it was misplaced. 
Maybe it was because you knew you’d disappoint. “Yeah,” you sighed softly, relaxing your hands as you turned for the door. “That makes one of us.” 
_______
The walk to training always held some anxiety but this time it was as if you were drowning in it. Each step felt like a death knell and sudden dryness in your mouth made you want to turn back and run to the safety of your room.
You thought that you were well and truly past this. 
Apparently, you couldn’t get past anything. 
As you approached the door you were surprised to hear voices. No one ever wanted to interact with König, let alone at 7 a.m. on a Saturday. The room was always booked for the two of you at this time, interruptions were specifically warned against by Price. 
It’s just a conversation. You took in a deep breath. Not everything required a downward spiral, not all mysteries needed investigation. 
Literally just a fucking conversation. Get a grip. 
You straightened your shoulders as you approached the door and the dialogue became clearer. 
“Birdy will be here soon.” König’s voice was as familiar as your own. “You need to leave.” 
You pulled up short just before the entrance, frozen like a deer in the headlights. There was a short silence before a soft thud echoed throughout the room. It sounded like a hand being clapped over the shoulder but you weren’t sure. Could have been a punch, could have been a really intense kiss, who fucking knew? 
All you knew was that they weren’t meant to be there. Maybe it was Sunshine. 
Although you hated the arrogant fucker, it would relieve you to know it was them. They were inconsequential and, although they were annoying, they wouldn’t be behind your assassination attempt. 
Sunshine would have made sure you were in the ground, no matter the cost. Sunshine would have succeeded. 
Instead, the voice that rattled in your ears wasn’t your fellow coworker. 
“Just be careful. Wouldn’t want to jump the gun, would we?” 
Your blood turned to ice.  
Graves. 
You could almost hear that snake-like grin in his words, you could almost see the look in his eyes that was nothing but predatory. Phillip was charming when he wanted to be, but there was something terrifying about him.
Like a trap lying in wait. 
Like a traitor waiting to strike. 
The sound of sure and steady footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts. Panic flooded your system, kicking your adrenaline into gear. There was nowhere to hide, not even a small nook in this god-forsaken hallway.
As Graves drew closer to discovering your presence, you bounced back a few steps from where you’d been frozen. Throwing your arms above your head as if you were stretching and squinting your eyes with an outrageous yawn was all you could pull together. 
Phillip rounded the corner with a cocky sway that made your heart race. You watched him scan your slowly approaching body, seemingly tired and unaware. You acted surprised to see him, carefully schooling your face to return to the usual lifelessness that it held. 
“Birdy!” Graves said, slowing his pace. With a flash of teeth, the corner of his mouth pulled upward into a knowing smirk. “Good to see you.”
“I bet,” you said monotonously, adding a dismissive nod at the end like a punctuation mark. 
Phillip’s smirk turned into a smile. 
“Enjoy your session,” the man said slowly. As he drew closer you could feel your chest tightening. He smelt fresh like he had just gotten out of a long, hot shower. You hated that he was close enough to smell the fucking body wash on his skin. 
His shoulder brushed yours as he passed by, setting your body alight with fear. You didn’t dare look over your shoulder as you trekked towards the gym door, eyes firm on that handle. His footsteps still echoed along the hallway by the time that you’d reached the entrance. 
“You’re late.” 
König’s voice startled you despite making direct eye contact with him. 
The man looked disgruntled, to say the least. His hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it over and over, and your guess was confirmed when he roughly raked it over once more. König’s eyes were looking anywhere but yours. 
“I’m not.” You’d meant for those words to have some bite to them but you couldn’t muster up the venom. Not when he looked like that. 
“You are,” he insisted with a snarl. 
You raised your hands up in surrender, eyes narrowing at his hostility. The urge to leave grew tenfold and so did your distrust for the man before you. There were too many things that pointed towards his guilt in planning your assassination. 
The way he’d tried to blow off your concerns, the vehement way he’d shouted for you to drop it, and now, his interaction with Graves. You thought back to your time in the kitchen when Phillip had first encountered you both. 
“Now, who’d have thought that you’d both be so… close.” He had said.
The Shadow had watched with intrigue as König stepped in front of you as if protecting you from him. If you really thought about it, most of his smarminess was aimed at the man beside you, rather than yourself. 
You swallowed and choked on your own spit. It was a distant reminder of when it had been your own blood that you’d coughed on. 
König’s sigh tore you from your spiralling conspiracies. 
“I’m sorry,” he muttered. His tone was quiet but his eyes were genuine. 
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat. “No, it’s fine. I get shitty when I deal with Graves, too.” 
But why was he with Phillip in the first place? 
You wanted to ask him, everything in you pleaded to seek out the truth. You needed to investigate-, you needed to know. Your mouth opened to get the answers you so desperately desired, but a thought made you stop in your tracks. 
What if you let on that you were suspicious of him? 
It was clear that you were no match against König. Your entire life had become interwoven with his and it felt like he was there in your every waking moment. If he knew that you suspected him, it would only put you in danger again. He’d busted through your bedroom door once and that was enough to tell you that you wouldn’t be safe from him anywhere you went. 
You distantly realized that König was watching you carefully from where he stood, jade eyes analyzing every quirk of your lips and every twitch of your brows. 
“What?” You said, feigning self-consciousness. “Admiring your handiwork?” 
The man shot you a glare and you prayed that was enough to shift his attention. 
“I hate it when you say things like that,” he hissed, pulling his jacket down his arms and throwing it aside. “Seriously.” 
“Yeah, well I hate having a chopping block for a face.” You tilted your head to shoot him a deadpan look over your shoulder. “Seriously.” 
“I cannot deal with you sometimes, Birdy.” König hissed. 
“I can tell,” you jerked your thumb towards your marred features. 
You knew that you were playing with fire. The way the man stood straight, his gaze narrowing and any sense of banter dissipating from his features, made it very clear that it was time for you to stop pushing that particular button. 
“Your attempt at deflecting is not as effective as you may think,” König said, his words slow and deliberate. Jade eyes bore into yours and your breath stuttered in your chest. 
You could lie to him, you could play dumb. He was dangerous and if you tipped him off you would be dead by morning.
You couldn’t make sense of that logic, though. If he wanted you dead, you’d well and truly have been dead by now. Your cheeks stung at the thought… you suppose that there wasn’t a lack of trying. Maybe it really had just been a failed attempt. 
“Birdy,” the soldier said, shooting a glance at the door. “I know what you are thinking and you need to put a stop to it.” 
Those contesting thoughts came to a staggering halt. 
“I don’t even know what I’m thinking,” you snapped. “What would you know?” 
König raised a brow at your tone, opening his mouth to deliver what you would assume to be an infuriating response. The words choked and fell from his tongue, though. There was a huff as he turned on his heel, stalking towards the exit and closing the door. 
You swallowed thickly. 
When he swivelled to look at you it was with a burning gaze that pinned you to where you stood.
“You bring attention to us in ways that will get us killed,” König whispered harshly, his accent was sharp and heavy with each enunciation. “You need to stop.” 
“Stop what?” You waved your hands at him. “You’re so fucking vague.” 
He flinched forward, pushing his finger onto your lips. You smacked his hand away like a cat pawing at something irritating. 
“Would you be quiet?” He snarled through gritted teeth. König took in a deep breath, casting another look at the exit. He was watching the light beneath the door, making sure there were no shadows tipping off an eavesdropper. Why was he suddenly the paranoid one? 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You lowered your tone but the urgency behind it was still present. 
“You need to stop chasing this lead,” König shook his head, gaze imploring. “You need to stop trying to find who planned the accident.” 
Your mouth went dry. 
“Is that a threat?” The words were a true whisper this time. Barely falling from your lips and only as audible as a soft gasp. 
König’s eyes widened. “What?” 
“Are you in on it?” You asked, taking a step backward. 
Bile roiled in your stomach as if mimicking a stormy sea. There was a distinct buzzing in your ears, numbing you to anything but the situation at hand.
“What?” König repeated. “What? No. That is not what I meant by that.” 
You shook your head, “the other day- the way you reacted says otherwise.” 
He reached out for your arm and you wonder if it was to comfort you or to detain you. You finched away from him but this time the man before you didn’t yield. He did not back down and he did not allow you the illusion of control. 
Instead, König held you firmly by your biceps. 
“I need you to listen to me, Birdy. We don’t have time for this back and forth thing that we do every time.” 
Rage tore through your chest at his dismissal and you would have told him as much had he not looked so desperate. Instead, you kept your mouth shut as the man watched you pleadingly. You would let him speak because maybe he had the answers you were searching for, maybe König would be the evidence to prove that these suspicions weren’t delusions. 
The man cast another glance towards the doorway before letting go of your arms. You straightened cautiously, being mindful to not rub at the skin he’d had contact with. 
“Well?” You whispered impatiently, waving a hand at him to continue. “You wanna manhandle me or do you want to talk?” 
“It’s not safe for us to talk here,” König’s words were barely audible. “You need to stop with your head-hunting. Stop asking questions.” 
His eyes were fierce, warning you not to challenge his demands but you couldn’t care less. He, of all people, had no right to be telling you when to chase answers.
He raised a hand before you could speak. “You are going to get us both killed because you gather intel like a child-” 
“What does that even mean?” You interrupted harshly.
“It means you have alerted everyone, Birdy!” König snapped, his voice harsh and his eyes flashing. “Whoever did this knows that you’re onto them. They know that we know.” 
You blinked dumbly, stunned. 
The man glared at you for a long moment, his chest heaving with laden breaths. The silence that eneveloped you both was anything but empty. There was a buzzing in your ears and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or horrified that he’d confirmed your suspicions. Blind rage filled your lungs as if you were drowning. 
“You mother fucker!” You hissed between gritted teeth, shoving at his chest with as much force as you could muster. “You fucking knew?” 
“Of course I knew!” König bit back as he stumbled for his footing. “I’ve been trying to find them and you have been hindering me every fucking step of the way, Birdy.”
You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, you wanted to bash this man over and over just like he’d done to you. You weren’t insane but he was more than happy to intimidate you into thinking that you were. 
“How could you keep this from me?” Your fingers dug into the skin of his arms as you grabbed him. You wanted to shake the truth from the giant before you, rattle the honesty right from his mouth. “After everything that’s happened!” 
König didn’t so much as wince at your nails in his skin, fury simmered in his eyes like molten jade. “I was your main suspect and you outright told me about your suspicions while you were locked in a room with me, Birdy. What would have happened if I was actually everything you make me out to be?” 
You swallowed thickly, your fingers loosening their grip. 
“I could have killed you right there,” König continued softly, “at this rate you’ll die before you find them.” 
“You said I already tipped everyone off,” you rasped, almost meek in tone. “How have they not come for me yet?” 
The man rolled his shoulders, shooting another paranoid glance at the door. He continued talking as he scanned the room, searching for telltale signs of a third party.
“Everyone thinks you are disabled, Birdy, no one is taking your concerns seriously.” König straightened, levelling you with an evaluative glare. “But I knew better.” 
You drew in a deep breath, holding it in for a few moments before releasing just like Saint had taught you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the thought of your therapist. You told them everything- König was right. You’d mouthed off your suspicions knowing that Saint and Price were close. What if Saint had told Price? Then Price would have told Shephard and Simon and then- God. 
You’re so fucking stupid. 
Of course everyone knew, you’d practically blasted it across the unit’s P.A system. 
“What now?” You managed to croak. “What do we do now?” 
König frowned at you, his body falling still. “We?” 
“You’re not leaving me out of this,” you ground out. 
“We are not doing anything together,” he said, eyes roaming over your features quizzically. Your heart lurched desperately, there was no way you’d let him do this without you. You deserved to be a part of this, you deserved to get your justice and whoever did this deserved to die.
“You owe it to me!” You nearly raised your voice, fear trickling down the expanse of your spine. Not a fear of the man before you, but this time it was a fear of being left behind. Left to paranoia, left alone with your thoughts and suspicions and no one to hear them. 
König shook his head, “we cannot work together.” 
“We have to!” 
“We can’t!” 
Your eyes were wide and your chest was heaving as the man before you gripped your shoulders. He lowered down to a knee, drawing close enough that you were only a breath apart. You opened your mouth to offer a shaky response but the way his gaze ran over your features stole the words straight from your tongue. 
“I will not risk your safety again, Birdy.” König’s words brushed against your lips, warm but sorrowful. “That is what I owe to you.” 
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hazbinhotelxreader · 4 months
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Yandere Alastor x doe! Fem child reader
“Little Doe”
An: not a request but an idea I had while in school! I’m still rusty since it’s been like- 7 weeks since I last posted but I hope you enjoy!
Sorry if it’s bad! I am still rusty on writing and Alastor is difficult to write for
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The great and powerful radio demon was taking his usual stroll around the streets of Pentagram city. As usual, demons were freaking out at his presence, some even taking pictures of him only to have their screens shut off. Alastor kept his usual smile as he walked, nodding at a few ladies he passed by, who giggled when he left. In the way to the hotel, he heard a bleat like noise, causing his ears to perk up.
Usually, he’s not sometime to go after someone who’s hurt, but he couldn’t ignore this one. It felt like an instinct. Even if he didn’t have those mother deer urges, he still had an instinct to protect the creature that made the bleat. He walked over to the area, came/microphone in hand and stopped at the scene, raising his brows, keeping his smile.
He saw four, shark like sinners picking on a young, fawn female. You. You were a young, small, maybe about 8 years old, and helpless in the grasps of the shark sinners. You had tears in your eyes, opened wounds from the attacks, bruises on you limbs. Alastors eyes narrowed slightly as he spoke up. ‘Why what seems to be going on here?” Alastor says in his normal cheery tone.
“None of your fucking business, now beat it” one of the shark sinners snarled, tugging on your deer ears. You let out a whimper, closing you eyes tight, you were scared, in pain, and so confused on why they were doing this.
Alastor let’s put an amused chuckle, and didn’t move from his spot. “Are you sure you want to do this? We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way. And trust me…” some green sparks rose around him, his voice more stadicky “you don’t want to choose the hard way”
The shark sinners seemed to get the message, letting go of the fawn, but still trying to act tough.” Yea-well. How do we know you’re tellin the truth? What if ya bluffing?”
Alastor let’s put a small ‘hmm’ sound and shrugged. “I suppose that is what one mag think, but I am not bluffing. I don’t tolerate fools like you harming a young lady.” Alastor informed and walked closer. “So I suggest you make your way out of here before I make you.”
The shark sinners looked at each other for a minute before scoffing and walking away. Alastors smile grew bigger, then he looked at your trembling form. “Now now my dear, don’t be afraid. I’m not here to cause you any harm.” He said with a happy tone “what might your name be Young lady?”
You muster up the courage to look at him, your innocent eyes averting from his “[n-name]” you say in a slightly shaky soft tone.
Alastor chuckled and spoke “[Name]? What a wonderful name little fawn.” He held his hand out for you to take “if you don’t already know me, I am Alastor. The pleasure is mine of meeting you” he said bright and loud. Which gave you slight reassurance. No one in hell is this happy, and that made you feel better when Alastor was happy. Alastor crouched down and checked your body for any wounds, which he found a few.
“It seems that you are injured! Why don’t you allow me to help heal you? The hotel is just a little ways” he offered. You know you shouldn’t say yes to strangers, especially not dangerous ones, but for some reason he seemed genuine, and comforting. The only smiling face in hell you’ve seen so far. So you nod. “Wonderful! Now let us go my dear” he carefully scooped you into his arms. Carrying you small body. You relax a little in his arms, as he takes you to some hotel he was talking about. You’re not sure if you should trust him, but you feel like you should. Even if you didn’t know what could happen when you do arrive.
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Text
She’s Perfect
Pairing: Eddie Munson x NewGirl!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Summary: You are new to Hawkins and decides to join the Hellfire club and Eddie finds you to be his dream girl. 
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, spanking, slight nipple play, riding), fluff, probably incorrect DnD references, soft!Eddie, lovesick!Eddie, slight!metalhead!Reader
a/n: Here is my first fic of the year! It took me forever because I have the worst writer’s block ever! Hope you enjoy! It’s probably a little cringy, lol.
Banner by @vase-of-lilies​
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You were new to Hawkins and of course you had to move to a new school half way through your senior year. So now you knew no one and you were so lost in this fucking school. You tried to ask someone but they just kept walking or they scoffed and snickered as they walked past. You growled before slamming your locker shut and just rushed around till you found your first class and of course you were ten minutes late. Great, you were new and late. 
After your classes you heard some freshmen talking about a club, Hellfire, you think? It sounded like a D&D club and you loved D&D. You had your own club back in your hometown, you were their Dungeon Master and you loved playing and creating campaigns for your party. Your club was always filled with Freshmen and Sophomores and they were all so excited to play and you loved them, they were like your little family. So you decided to stop by Hellfire after school.
You walked down the quiet hall and towards the back room where Hellfire was supposed to be held. You took a deep breath before opening the door and all the talking in the room quieted down to silence and turned to you. You looked at the people around the room and they were all guys and at the head of the table was, you guessed, the game master. 
“Can I help you?” The game master asked you, you stopped to look at him, he had fluffy dark brown hair that went down to his shoulders and he had bangs, he was wearing silver rings all over his hands, he had on a leather jacket with a jean vest and a white shirt under it with Hellfire Club on the shirt. 
“Um, is this the Hellfire Club?” You asked as you froze like a deer in headlights. “I was looking to join.” 
There was a collective gasp around the room and Eddie stood up and placed his hands on the table. “You want to join us?” He asked with a hint of surprise to his voice.
“I mean, yeah.” You shrugged as you wrapped your arms around yourself.
“Do you have a character?” Eddie said after a few minutes of thinking and you nodded before grabbing your beat up D&D notebook. 
“Yeah. I’m a level 16 Druid, race Elf. But I was a Dungeon master for a couple of years so I’m a bit rusty.” You said as you opened the page to your character chart.
“That’s alright. We’re just starting a new campaign, I’ll help you. I’m Eddie, your dungeon master. This is Gareth, Kevin, Jeff, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas.” He said pointing to all the guys at the table. You smiled and waved as you introduced yourself before going to the empty chair at the end of the table but Eddie stopped you. “Come sit next to me just in case you need help.” He said before pushing Gareth’s shoulder so he would move down a seat. Gareth glared at Eddie but moved anyway and you sat next to Eddie at the head of the table. 
“Thanks.” You smiled as you sat in the seat and you set your notebook on the table and opened it. 
Then the campaign started, you immediately got the hang of it and fell into the spot as the most powerful character in the game. And well… the boys were not happy about that, Eddie was thrilled but the rest of the club glared at you, except Dustin who thought you were amazing. By the end of the club, you had practically carried them through the quests. The guys glared at you as they walked out of the drama room but Dustin stayed and talked very excitedly about how well you did. 
You smiled at the freshman as he talked and asked for help with learning new spells and working on the best way to level up his character. He smiled at you widely as you told him that you would love to help him and you jotted down your number for him. 
“Here, call me if you need help, okay?” You asked with a smile and he nodded before giving you a side hug and he left. Your heart warmed at how happy he looked when you told him that you would love to help him. You sighed with a smile and turned to Eddie, “Thank you for letting me play.” You smiled as you leaned against the table. 
Eddie chuckled as he packed up the game board. “Had to give you a chance.” He winked which made you giggle and you grabbed your bag. 
“Did I make the cut?” You asked with a playful smile on your lips and he hummed pretending to think about it. 
He crossed his arms as he thought about it, “Well, you did get them lost in the forest…” 
You scoffed, “That was Gareth’s fault and you know it.” You started as you leaned against the table. “I think I did pretty good, Munson.” 
“I’m just messing with you. Of course you did a good job and I would be honored to have you join us.” He smiled genuinely, making your heart skip a beat and you bit your lip.
“I would love that, Eddie. Thank you.” You smiled as you hopped off the table as you walked over to him. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, “I had a lot of fun. Thank you.” You whispered before you pulled away from him but Eddie gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. He leaned down and kissed you passionately as he cupped your cheek with his ring clad hand. You relaxed against his lips and kissed back deeply and you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him close. 
“You’re so fucking perfect.” He whispered against your lips making your heart skip a beat as he scooped you up and sat you on the table. You kissed him deeper as you tangled your fingers in his fluffy hair and his large hands grasped your hips tight and pulled you closer to him. “Knew from the second you walked in here, you were perfect. Dressed in that Judas Priest shirt and ripped black jeans, fuck, thought I was gonna bust my pants.” He chuckled as he rested his head against yours. 
“Glad I could make a good impression.” You winked as you claimed his lips with yours again and he picked you up before he walked over to his throne and he sat down with you in his lap. He pulled you close to his chest and you kissed him deeper as you ran your fingers through his hair. His hands ran under the back of your shirt and he caressed your skin softly, smiling as he felt you relax against his chest. 
“Is this okay?” He asked as he pulled away and the tips of his fingers played with the hem of your shirt. 
“Yeah, it’s more than okay.” You nodded as you bit your lip and let him pull off your shirt to reveal your black lace bra. He practically groaned at the sight and he trailed his hands up your chest and cupped your breasts through the fabric. He leaned down to kiss in between your breasts as his sweet brown eyes gazed up at you and you smiled softly at him. “God, you’re so fucking cute.” You huffed as you tucked his hair behind his ears. 
“You’re one to talk. Coming in here acting all shy even though you’re hiding this rockin’ body under these clothes.” He winked as he nipped at the tops of your breasts making you giggle softly. His hands reached behind you and unclipped your bra and tossed it somewhere and he groaned at your bare breasts. He leaned down and kissed all over your breasts and sucked marks into them, marking you as his own and his hands rubbed up and down your hips. 
“Come on, Eds. It’s not fair that I’m half naked while you’re still dressed.” You huffed as you caressed his cheek softly. 
He chuckled at your pouting before he leaned back to strip off his vest and jacket and shed his Hellfire shirt. “There? Better?” He asked with a wink and you smirked down at his bare and lean chest. He had lean muscles hidden under all his layers of clothes and you traced his biceps softly and his pecs. 
“You’re so pretty. God, it’s just not fair.” You huffed and Eddie smirked at your reaction and you leaned down to kiss his neck softly and nip on his skin. Eddie ran a hand through his hair as he watched you suck and kiss on his neck and move down to his chest. You ran your tongue over his nipple softly and his body jolted with pleasure and you smirked up at him at his reaction. You pulled away from him to kiss him passionately again and he held you close. “Want- you- to fuck- me.” You mumbled in between kisses and he was taken aback by your confession and he growled softly as he set you on the table. 
“Fuck, hang on, sweetheart.” He muttered as he unbuckled his belt and you started taking off your jeans and kicked off your shoes as you pulled off your jeans. Eddie pulled his cock out of his jeans and you practically drooled at how thick and long he was. Fuck, you wanted to get on your knees and worship his cock, but that would have to wait. Once you got your jeans off Eddie yanked you into his lap and you kissed him passionately as he cupped your cunt and his middle finger circled your clit softly. You moaned against his lips and your hips jolted against his finger and you felt yourself growing wetter by the second. Shit, he knew what he was doing. 
“Eddie, fuck, as much as I love this I need your cock so bad.” You whined against his lips and he smirked before grabbing his cock and lined it up to your weeping entrance. You moaned at the blunt pressure against your hole and you slid your hips down to take his cock deep in your cunt. “O-oh, my.” You moaned as you threw your head back and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 
He growled against your lips as he pulled away and rested his head against the headrest of the throne. “You’re so tight, sweetheart. Shit, feels like heaven.” He huffed as his hands rubbed your hips and down your thighs and squeezed the plush of your thighs. “You look so beautiful like this, sweets. You look like a goddess.”
You blushed at his words and you leaned down to rest your forehead against his. “You’re such a sweet talker, y’know that?” You asked with a smirk as you tugged on his hair softly. 
“I’ve been told a few times.” He chuckled, making you giggle softly as you started moving your hips up and down on his cock. He groaned as your walls clenched and throbbed around him and you moaned at the thickness of his cock stretching you to the limits. 
“Eds, fuck, you feel so good.” You moaned and arched your chest against him and he leaned down and caught one of your nipples in his mouth and sucked on the bud softly, making shivers run down your back. His hands gripped your ass and spanked you softly as he nipped on your nipple softly. You gripped his shoulders tight as you moved your hips up and down slowly and his head fell back against the throne and he let out a loud groan. 
“Sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight and wet. M’not gonna last long.” He groaned as he clenched his eyes shut and his hands gripped your hips as he guided your hips up and down on him faster. You moaned as his hand went down to your pussy and he circled your little bud in tight circles making your cunt pulse around him. 
You nuzzled against his neck as you cried out, “Fuck, Eddie, m’close, m’so fucking close.” You moaned and he held you tight as he moved faster in and out of you and rubbed your small bud faster. 
“Cum for me, sweets. Show me how good I’m making you feel.” He smirked as he nipped on your neck and spanked your ass. That’s what pushed you over the edge and you came hard on his cock, your thighs shaking around his lap and he kissed you passionately as he helped you through your orgasm. 
You cupped his face as you continued to kiss him and you came down from your orgasm and you kissed down his jaw and nibbled on his neck. “Cum in me, Eds. Want to feel you fill me up.” You purred against his sensitive skin and he growled out your name as you pushed him over the edge and he came hard inside of you. His ringed hands gripped your hips tight as he held your hips flush against his lap as his cum spurted inside of your wet walls. 
He panted softly as he came down from his high and he kissed your head as you laid against his chest. He wrapped his strong arms around you and held you close as you nuzzled into his neck. He pulled away with a dopey smile on his face, “That was a nice surprise.” 
You giggled softly and nodded, “It was. Just couldn’t keep my hands off of you.” You smiled at him and kissed his lips again before you got off of his lap and stood on shaky legs. “You are a very sexy dungeon master.” You winked as you leaned down and kissed his lips again before he tucked himself back into his jeans.
He stood up and grabbed his shirt and had you sit in his throne as he kneeled in front of you and cleaned up your messy cunt. “You’re so fucking pretty in my throne.” He whispered as he kissed your inner thigh. 
“You’re too sweet.” You smiled and he pulled you up gently before helping you get redressed and he put on his jacket and vest as he held his messy shirt in his hand and led you out of the school. 
“Do you want a ride? Maybe we can smoke some and have some more fun?” He suggested with a smirk and you gigged and kissed him. 
“Sure, love a good workout before bed.” You winked and he smirked as he led you into the van and you two were off to his trailer.
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leilani-lily · 7 months
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~Oh Deer~ (Chapter 2)
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Surprise! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ Another chapter already. I actually have three already written out, so I'll be posting the next one soon too. I hope you enjoy (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)
SYNOPSIS: AroAce! Alastor x Chef!Singer! Reader. You come to find the kitchen is an absolute mess, and there's no help in sight. Alastor catches you working and discovers something about you that's quite captivating. Word Count: 2 k
Chapter under the cut!
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It didn’t take long before you were settled and secure at the hotel. Introductions were made, papers were signed and soon all your stuff was whisked into your new room at the hotel. It all seemed to happen in a blur, but you were happy for the fresh start. 
When you first came across the kitchen it… well, it needed some much needed TLC. Dried blood staining the walls, rusty, chipped knives, an oven covered in grime and the door on its hinges. It was dark, dirty, and smelled like rotting food (and maybe even rotting bodies? You didn’t want to think about it too much). Needless to say, you had your work cut out for you. But you knew you couldn’t do this without a little motivation.
After finally finding an outlet that worked, you plug in your trusty CD player. It was fraying a bit, and wasn’t in the best of shape, but it was one of your prized possessions. One of the first things you had bought for yourself when arriving in Hell. It was one of those machines that had a built-in alarm clock, and although you didn’t actually have any CD’s to play off it, it did come with a radio function that you abused more than the next person. It had soothed you many a lonesome night, and also pumped you up when you had work to do. With a fond smile, you set up your radio and flick through the channels before stopping at what sounded like a jazz station. Satisfied with the upbeat melody, you roll your sleeves up and get started on the deep clean.
You didn’t know how long you had been working for, 30 minutes, maybe even an hour or two. But it didn’t take long before a slither of a shadow snaked up the doorframe of the kitchen for the Radio Demon himself to emerge from the shadows. He had just been passing by when he had heard the sounds of a jazzy tune, accompanied by the sounds of a sultry voice. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he found himself here, watching you scrub on hands and knees at the tile floors. 
You were covered in dirt and dust, soapy water soaking the ends of your shirt and pants. You wiped a stray bead of sweat from your forehead as your cheeks shone a shade of red from all the hard work. In short summary, you were a mess. And yet somehow he didn’t seem all that put off by it, focusing on something far more interesting.
As the radio hummed out a static version of “What a Wonderful World”, your own voice harmonized with the deeper tone that was Louis Armstrong’s. You continued to toil away, not aware of the presence behind you and actually enjoying the work, but soon the music got the better of you, and you sat up to fully embrace it. Entranced by the song, you closed your eyes and crooned along to the lyrics, sometimes singing along with Louis, sometimes choosing to harmonize and add a personal spin to it. You couldn’t help but smile as the familiar chills ran up your spine when immersed in a good song and feeling one with the original performer. As the melody began to come to an end, you soften into almost a whisper and sit happily as the remaining instruments faded. The sound track of an applause and actual clapping burst from behind you.
“MARVELOUS! Bra-vo my darling!” 
You jumped up so high and fast, it made you slip on the soapy floor beneath you. You fumbled and landed on your bum facing Alastor, pants now soaked and your heart racing a mile a minute. The red demon began to step towards you, still clapping and looking surprisingly impressed.
“What a performance, such talent! Who knew such a voice was locked away, just waiting to soar like a songbird!”
With a twirl of his cane, he extended the tip end to you with a smile. You looked at it for a moment before realizing and grabbing onto it. With a strength you didn't realize he had, he helped to hoist you up to your feet.
“H-honestly Alastor. You can’t keep sneaking up behind me without warning. You’ll have to find another chef to replace me after I die from a heart attack.” 
Alastor chuckled at your remark, pulling a dark brown hankie from his inner jacket and giving his cane a quick wipe. “Now y/n, don’t be silly.” After cleaning his cane from the dirty soap water, he flicked the handkerchief into your direction, and gave you an amused smile “You’re already dead.”
You couldn’t argue with that. You huff out a laugh and graciously accept the cloth presented to you, using it to wipe your hands free of any dirty water. 
“Besides,” Alastor continued, “Can you hardly blame me for tuning in? It’s not often I hear such a classic tune being accompanied by an enchanting voice~!” You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks flush. You tried your best not to sing in front of others, and living on your own, never really had the possibility of someone hearing you. Until now that is.
“I, well… Th-thank you” You smile, holding out the handkerchief to return. Alastor didn't move to take it. Looking down at the now soiled cloth, his lip twitched a moment before blinking, and the hankie burst into a puff of flame, tiny bits of soot and ash fluttering to the ground. Your head jolted back a moment as your now empty hand hung there awkwardly. Ohhkayyyy… You speak to fill the silence.
“I find I work better when I listen to music. Although, sometimes I find I get too wrapped up in the music… like you just witnessed.” You give a sheepish shrug, your attention going back towards the load of work you still had to do. Alastor followed your gaze and looked around the dingy kitchen. 
“Hmmmm yes, quite the chore you have ahead of you,” he hummed, eye twitching at all the dirt and grime. “And where is Nifty in all of this? Surely you shouldn’t have to tackle such a big job all by yourself now, she IS the maid of this hotel now.” He placed his clawed hands on his hips, looking around as if she might be hiding in one of the pots or under the counter.
“Ah no, that’s alright,” You shake your head and smile at Alastor, making him turn his focus back to you, “I was going to ask her, but she seemed… preoccupied by a centipede, and I didn’t want to be a bother.”
“Besides,” You puff out your chest and survey the room, causing Alastor to cock an eyebrow in amusement. “I’m the one in charge of this kitchen, so it should be up to me to make sure it’s spick and span. You decided to hire me for some reason, so I want to prove I want this job. And a little elbow grease isn’t going to scare me off so quick.” You turn to the Radio Demon and catch a quick glimpse of what seems to be admiration before he straightened up.
“And I can tell you’re going to make a fine employee already,” Alastor agreed, making you feel a sense of pride. His gaze shifted back towards the mess before him. “Nevertheless, this is still too mighty of a task for just one demon.”
Faster than you could blink, Alastor flicked his hand up and gave a swift snap of his fingers. The shadows surrounding you began to shift and morph into what looked like long tendrils. You stared in awe as the shadows grew before your very eyes and began to morph into what looked like creatures. Before you knew it, 4 shadow-like goons were standing before you with stark white features. 
“There we go~” Alastor chirped, taking in your look of shock before laughing out loud, “Oh come now my dear, no need to look so alarmed! My friends are simply here to help you~”
And help you indeed. While Alastor was talking, the creatures began to pick up the cleaning tools around the room, beginning to mop, sweep and wipe around the room at a speed you could never accomplish on your own. Your look of shock slowly transformed to one of awe.
“Yes, they’ll help to get the job done lickity split!” Alastor boasted, “And don’t worry, once the work is done they’ll simply disappear back into the shadows.”
You watched them work and couldn’t help but marvel at Alastor’s power. Not only was he able to conjure 4 living and working shadow creatures, but the fact that he did it so effortlessly. It just seemed to be a reflection of the amount of power he wielded, which was a terrifying thought all on it’s own. You couldn’t even imagine the extent of what his power could be; unbarred and at full capacity. It made you shiver a moment. Still, you couldn’t help but be grateful for the extra sets of hands.
“Thank you Alastor,” you smiled towards him, eyebrows tight with gratitude, “You really didn’t have to do this, I was fine to do the work on my own-!” The Radion Demon immediately shushed you, sticking one of his fingers close to your lips but not quite touching. 
“Nonsenseee y/n. Think nothing of it! Let’s just say this is my way of thanking you for such a lovely performance earlier. I shall hope to hear more from you again.” He gave you a half-lidded smile, seeming actually genuine about his last remark. You couldn’t hide your embarrassment, but on the inside you were pleased. 
“Now!” Alastor snapped to attention, jolting you out of your daze, “I’m afraid I’ll have to take my leave, I was on my way to a meeting with Charlie before being entranced by your song.” You felt your smile falter at the thought of being the reason he was running late. Alastor quickly caught on and fanned his hand at you
“Oh think nothing of it my dear, I’d say it was well worth my time. But before I go, I would be delighted to talk Jazz with you at a later time; it’s not often I meet a fellow enthusiast.” 
As much as you didn’t want to get your hopes up, you felt a pang of hope in your chest. You had always kept to yourself during your time in Hell, and never really had the opportunity to build any friendships. Everyone you had met as of recent always had ulterior motivations, or were so toxic that you had to end it before they could harm you even further. However, since coming to the hotel, everyone had been so surprisingly friendly; especially Alastor. He helped you feel less nervous when you had arrived, given you a job, and was now helping you clean the kitchen? He’s been such a gentleman, and you both seemed to have similar passions… Could this be the opportunity for a new friend?
“Yes, of course!” You smile, “I love music, I’m always happy to talk about it.” 
“Splendid!” Alastor chimed, turning on his heel and walking back towards the kitchen doors, “We’ll have to arrange a time that works best for us both. But until then,” He turned back to you and gave you a slight bow.
“I shall bid you, adieu.” 
His body sunk back into the shadows and he disappeared as quick as a flash. You yelped out a panicked final “thank you” into the darkness, assuming he didn’t hear it he was gone so quick. But that was ok, you’d just have to thank him again when you next bumped into each other. You turn back to the goons and see they’ve already made quite a dent in the cleaning. You felt yourself breathe a sigh of relief for the extra help. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you crank up the volume on the radio, and run up to help get your kitchen ready. 
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Boy oh boy here we go~ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
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ceilidho · 10 months
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Unhinged brain moment: going hunting for the first time with Simon and him insisting on doing the whole “eat the heart of the first animal you ever kill” thing and you take a big bite out of this deer heart and yadda yadda yadda Simon likes seeing you bloody
im gonna be real with you, i read this days ago and was like eh idk if this ask is for me, i'll see about it later.
and now im staring at this and my eye is twitching because i always imagine ghost as like, real messed up, like holding it together but into some REAL weird shit and actually i think it would do something real weird and real strange to him to see a pretty little thing that he's taken hunting for the first time bite into a heart and have blood dripping down her face. i think it'd drive him a bit nuts. like his brain would stop and rewind the tape and he'd be staring at you completely blank-faced, like literally hollow-eyed, like nobody's home. and you'd just blink back a bit awkwardly because it tastes rusty in your mouth and you kind of want to gag, but you're keeping it together until ghost tells you what to do.
sometimes a man sees his favourite girl with blood all over her and goes "ugh. she's so hot."
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adnauseum11 · 7 months
Text
Check Point (John Price x Reader)
John makes dinner and you discuss decorating for the holiday.
1.1k words
CW: none - this is pure fluff. (Or is it?)
Feedback welcome!
This work is part of the S.N.A.F.U. series, the Masterlist is also pinned to my blog.
Masterlist
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John is like the cat that got the cream the entire next day. He’s never out of reach, not exactly hovering, but staying within arms-length. He eventually talks you into watching football with him, which you do, curled around each other for a few hours. He’s only vaguely sorry about the bruises on your thighs, but mindful of them when jostling with you for position on the couch so you can’t get too annoyed with him. 
He offers to cook dinner, so you occupy yourself by dragging your box of Christmas decorations out. It’s not big, and half of the box are vintage glass ornaments you are too scared to actually hang on a tree, the glass thin and fragile and the ancient wire hangers rusty. You look up at John after carefully setting the vintage ornaments aside, trying to gauge how receptive he would be to going shopping this close to the holidays. His eyes raise off his task to meet yours, like he can feel the weight of your gaze. 
“I don’t have any of the hardware needed to get a tree darling, I think that may have to be a task for next year.” 
John speaks before you can say anything. You press your lips together to keep from smiling at his allusion to next year, something warming in your chest at his easy projection into the future.
“That’s alright, I was actually wondering if you would consider coming shopping with me tomorrow? I shouldn’t be spending more money right now but all my decorations are old and you have approximately…?”  
You hold up your hand to John, indicating he should fill in the blank you have left at the end of your sentence. He understands without having to be prompted. 
“None.”
“Right. Thank you.”
John sighs, going back to his task before replying.
“On a scale of one to ten, how necessary is this shopping? Worth dealing with the crowds?” 
You hum, thinking for a moment while you watch him work. You forget, sometimes, that John is a veteran with trauma. He’s so self-assured and confident that things like busy crowds and loud venues half the time don’t occur to you as potential triggers, just a normal course of life. A part of you knows that the landscape is different for John, last night being a prime example. 
“No, you know what, don’t worry about it. I can go on my own.” 
You cut him some slack, not wanting to put him through unnecessary hardship. That has him looking up at you again though, unexpectedly. He looks like he’s going to say something and then presses his lips together, redirecting himself to rolling a chicken breast around ham and cheese.
You don’t realize he’s still stewing on it until you’re setting up little reindeer figurines made of ceramics along the edge of the island where he’s working. 
“Do I get a say in any of this decorating?”
You look up at him, surprised. His face is serious, tracking your placement of the ceramic deer. 
“How do the deer offend, my lord?” 
You joke, unsure if John’s annoyed with the decorating itself or your choices. He shoots you a look that would probably have anyone else quailing. You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed with his grump and set the deer down in place firmly instead. 
“Don’t give me that look, what’s wrong with Vixen and Blitzen?” 
“Nothing.” He backpedals, but you aren’t having it.
“You wanted a say, let’s hear it then.” 
You gesture with your hand, encouraging him to come out with it. He straightens and looks at you steadily before surprising you again. 
“Why did you uninvite me?”
“Uninvite you? From what? Shopping?” 
You’re grasping at straws, trying to piece together what’s annoyed him about being let off from that particular task.
“Yeah. You asked if I wanted to go and then told me to forget it immediately. Is this because I don’t condone all that glitter?”
You can’t help the swell of affection that squeezes your heart, looking at him frowning down at you. His hands are held aloft, covered in chicken juices but you step into his side and wrap your arms around his waist tightly anyways. The snowman figurine with generous glitter had been a hard no from the former Captain when you had unpacked it. 
“No, it’s because I didn’t think it was fair to ask you to deal with the crowds. Your lack of festive spirit is a separate issue.”
“I can be festive.” He huffs, deflating slightly in your arms. 
“Say it louder so my snowman can hear you.”
He shoots you a look and you smile, patting his ribs before letting him loose again. 
“You can come if you really need to have a say, John. I just didn’t think it was worth putting you through all the hustle and bustle for just a wreath and some knick-knacks.”
“I know you; you say just a wreath and knick-knacks but you’ll be back here with more bags than you can carry if you’re unsupervised.”
That’s a fair point but you’ll be damned before you let John know that you agree. 
“Oh, well if I need saving from myself, I suppose you’re the man for the job.” 
You raise an eyebrow at him, casually placing another deer in the line-up. He shakes his head, wisely, focusing back on his work, placing the chicken on a baking tray.
“Trying to save the flat’s limited storage space, love.” 
“Hmm…I suppose I can believe that.” 
You agree easily, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He smiles to himself, carrying on to wash his hands at the sink. You watch him, the strong lines of his back flexing under his old t-shirt as he moves. You can’t help picturing the way his back would look as he moves inside you and feel your belly swoop and face heat at the image it conjures in your mind. He turns to dry his hands and catches you staring, face flushed. He raises his eyebrows at you and tucks his chin, a look you know well as an unspoken question. The slow smile that curls across your face is anything but innocent. 
“How long is the timer set for?”
You can’t help asking, the thrill of teasing John perennial in your life, now with richer rewards for your trouble. He’s able to read your thoughts just as easily as you read him apparently because his answering grin is savage. 
“Long enough.” 
Your feet are moving before he’s finished speaking. 
Next Chapter
Tag list:
@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch
Ao3
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staarboyyy · 1 year
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I SAW YOUR REQUESTS WERE OPEN AND I RAN STRAIGHT TO HERE-
I was wondering if you could maybe write something where we're comforting Amanda during the events of saw 3 like when after John was having that like stroke I think it was?? The whole time I watched that scene all I wanted was to comfort her 😭😭
If not it's completely fine!! I hope you have a great and amazing day!! (Ps, I'm sorrying if by requests you ment drawings or something, if you did, just ignore this!!)
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choice
amanda x gender neutral reader
18+ characters / scenarios - minors dni
tags / warnings ; stroke mentions/slight descriptions, surgery mentions, panic attacks, grounding, hand holding, fluff, "i hate everyone but you" trope
summary ; after john has a stroke, you find yourself slightly split between two sides of the same coin.
word count ; 696
a/n; my first request!! and its such a sweet one 😭💞  i feel the same whenever i rewatch saw 3, i hope this is sufficient!! <3
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"Anesthetic! what else!?"
Amanda's voice rocketed around the large workshop, your hand on John's trembling hand squeezing slightly. He had just spasmed a few minutes prior, bleeding from his mouth as Amanda stood in horror, like a deer in the headlights. You assisted Lynn in restraining John, agreeing to look after him while the others spoke about how to move on from this. Yet hearing Amanda shout in a warbling demand, you could nearly feel yourself force to your feet - You understood Lynn, felt for her panic and desperation to escape; But upon moving the plastic from the doorframe to John's pseudo hospital room, there she was. Stood in the same way she had been while watching John seize helplessly. Fearful? It had to be atleast close to it, the way her chest swelled and spilled shuddered gasps forward, hands grasping at the table behind her to alleviate some of the tension in her arms. Her jaw was clenched tightly, eyes glued to the cement floor as Lynn's words blurred past Amanda's dead-set decision. The surgery would happen here, it had to.
"I'll start a list."
You make your voice known through the shaking breathes of Lynn and Amanda, both women's eyes turning to face you. Both with an odd amount of relief; On one hand, Amanda could trust in the fact you would understand her. Despite it being forced upon you, bound to your wrists and ankles in thick chains, you had always been the person to extend a hand to her, even now. And on the other, Lynn - Innocent, to a degree. Afraid, just like you had been so long ago. At your words, Amanda gave an unsteady nod. In any other world, she would have brushed it off or even stiffly chuckle. But her breathing wavered, and even though her mind fought to collect the right things to say, none moved to push past her ajar lips. She kept pulling in practiced breaths, eyes on you, flickering over your expression. It felt good to focus on something familar, even as your brows furrowed as your gaze closed in on hers. Lynn's eyes nervously darted between you both as you treaded closer toward the sensitive woman leaning against the table, her fingers roaming the space behind her. She strummed the rusty knives with her pale long fingers, black polish chipped on her nails, scratching them lightly against the metal. Her eyes were raw with frantic rubbing, bottom lashes stinging as tears slid helplessly over her cheeks - She tried to hide them as soon as they fell, wiping the back of her palm against her flushed cheek.
Amanda was sensitive like this, it was no secret to anyone in the building, becoming more apparent as Lynn treaded quickly back towards John's room. She was smart to disappear, you thought, your attention on Amamda's fist balled tightly around a thick rusty dagger. Her grasp shook, the weapon trembling as she tried to bite back the sobs harboring angrily in her chest.
"I - I am so,"
It came out mumbled, the woman's head shaking slowly, her long hair curtaining over her tear stained cheeks and eyes. She wanted so badly to speak, to not feel like a clock was ticking down on her well being, as if she was not white-knuckling something built strictly to kill. Her eyes wavered, perhaps too nervous to keep her gaze on you; She looked like a dejected animal, isolating herself as far into a corner as possible, biting when anybody got too close.
"I know. Me too; But she told us what we need, right?"
bBut that's the thing with wild animals, isn't it? There's always someone. A hand extended slow enough, palm facing up in an offer; A choice. No force, no swaying her decision with a ticking timer or blade to her throat. She did not consciously release the blade, it did not cross her fractured mind. It faded, the panic and blood rushing in her ears had slowed - And there you were. Just you, and how her cold fingers felt against yours - Another nod, more affirmed than before as she sniffled quietly.
She'd always choose you.
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mousy-nona · 7 months
Text
All of God's Angels p. 5/5
Is Alastor the key to Gabriel's prophecy?
When the chains fall loose and Alastor is set free, Lucifer finally gets his answer.
Link to AO3
“In a bad mood today, I see,” Alastor’s radio static slithered from the shadows. Lucifer jumped, his hand immediately flying over his heart.
“You have got to stop doing that,” he snapped. 
Alastor leaned against the wall, his long frame draped against Lucifer’s garish tent-walls with careless grace. Lucifer’s heart ached as he took him in, his red hair like flame in the early morning sunlight. The light looked good on him, highlighting the sharp planes of his face and the lean, predatory elegance he wore like a second skin. 
Alastor cocked his head, trying for innocently confused and failing spectacularly. “But it’s the first of the month! Surely you haven’t forgotten our appointment?” 
He sighed. “No, of course not. But it’s seven in the morning, Alastor.” 
“And you’re up! Clearly deep in thought, I see. Shall I return at a later time?” 
Lucifer shook his head and beckoned him forward. “You’re here already, so let’s get this over with.”
He didn’t know for whose benefit he kept pretending he hated these little meetings as much as Alastor did. It wasn’t for the deer, who could pluck each one of his secrets from his mind as easy as breathing. But it was easier like this. If he pretended long enough, he might stop looking around corners to see if Alastor was in a room before walking in, his ears would stop pricking up at the sound of his name, and his heart might stop doing the macarena whenever he spotted anyone Tall, Dark, and Creepy. 
He was an idiot. He was cursed. The most colossally stupid, cursed idiot in the entire stupid universe because not only had he fallen for a sadistic asshole, he’d fallen for the one sadistic asshole who would never be able to want him back. 
Gabriel and his idiot prophecies. The next time he saw him, he was going to pluck all his feathers and serve him up medium rare over mashed potatoes and a side of green beans, Duck a L’Orange style. 
Alastor vanished into a mass of shadows and reappeared a moment later a few inches from his face. 
“Woah, woah, woah, personal space! Respect my personal space!” Lucifer yelled, trying to pinwheel backwards and finding himself pressed up against his desk. 
Ignoring him as usual, Alastor brought the tip of his claws under Lucifer’s chin and gently, oh so gently, tilted his head up. Those red eyes of his were hypnotic, glowing faintly as he searched the very depths of his soul. Lucifer’s cheeks turned from pink to dark red, and Alastor’s smile grew. He did so love it when he made Lucifer lose his cool. 
“You’re no fun to toy with when you’re put out like this,” Alastor remarked casually, as if they were just two people sharing a normal conversation over coffee, and not so close they were sharing the same breath. “Fine, I’ll bite. What’s on your mind, little king?” 
“Nothing,” Lucifer said, too fast. 
Alastor narrowed his eyes. “Are you really going to make me rip it from you?” He grinned. “An interrogation. Excellent. Like I always say to my listeners, there’s nothing like a good old fashioned interrogation to start the day!” He called a few shadow demons into reality, each one of them holding a set of rusty tools, each more disturbing than the last. “Call me a stickler for the old rules, but I like to start with a pair of pliers –”
Lucifer blanched. “You come at me with any of those, I’ll blast you into oblivion, Bambi. ”
Alastor’s eyes glowed with pleasure. “Oh, I’d love to see you try.”
They stood and glared at each other, the familiar electricity licking up Lucifer’s veins with their delicious warmth. Maybe it was what Alastor had intended, but the fire burned away some of the eerie sadness that always hovered at the edges of his mind, waiting to drown him in depression. When the demon was around, the darkness retreated, and he felt like his old self again. Optimistic. Innovative. Happy .
Don’t get used to it, the darkness whispered in his ear. Its words dripped like cold oil down his back. He won’t be around forever. It’s only a matter of time before he finds out the truth, and then he’ll leave you for good.
And just like that, the warm buzz Alastor had created disappeared, and the sadness rushed in again, cackling wildly as it dug its claws deep into Lucifer’s mind. 
Alastor watched it all with an impassive look on his face. Then, suddenly, Lucifer was in the air.
“Wha–” was all he was able to squeak out before he crashed into a nearby couch, one shadow tendril still gripping his ankle. He pushed himself up on his elbows right before a mass of shadows materialized on top of him. Alastor appeared, effectively caging Lucifer in with his larger form, pressing his shoulder into the cushions with one foot.
“What are you doing ?” Lucifer raged, using his superior strength to toss the demon off of him. Alastor whipped backwards and in one smooth motion struck out with his claws, which Lucifer narrowly avoided by diving forward – and slamming headlong into Alastor’s chest. 
When he looked up and saw what had happened, his face turned such a dark red he thought it might never turn back to its usual white shade. Crouched between his long legs like this, both his hands placed beside Alastor’s narrow hips, and his intoxicating scent blotting out Lucifer’s good sense, he felt slow and stupid, as if he’d been drugged. 
Then something sharp scraped against his head, and he thought he might pass out. Was Alastor…was he petting him?
“Mama always said you catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” came that classic radio static from above. This close, Lucifer could feel his heartbeat – and it was annoyingly steady. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
“I can’t,” Lucifer whispered, his voice broken. 
Alastor always teased him for being an open book, but there was something even he didn’t know. Something Lucifer had been keeping secret for some time. 
The golden remnants of Adam’s former power accumulated inside of him every time they repeated their monthly ritual. Steadily, drop by drop, they had purified the stains of his soul. With most of the pollution gone, he felt cleaner. Stronger. Strong enough that every little bit of holy energy trembled now when he called them forth.
He could wash Alastor clean. Sever any obligation that remained between them. 
When Alastor had called on his favor before, he hadn’t been able to grant it. But if he asked now…
Don’t ask. He’d thought when they met in Rosie’s quiet shop in the heart of Cannibal Town, in the light of the fireflies back at Alastor’s bayou, in the darkened alleyways no Hell denizen dared to go. Every moment with Alastor felt exceedingly precious now. He relished each time Alastor slowly stripped off his shirt, his beautiful, scarred form bared to him and only him. He felt his breath tremble whenever he ran his fingers across the solid planes of Alastor’s chest, the heat of his body both familiar and a marvel each time he discovered it. 
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask .
But the guilt was growing, as if Alastor’s infection was leeching its insidious roots into his own soul. He had to tell him. Alastor would find out eventually – he always did – and he would never forgive him for willingly keeping chains tied around his neck. But he couldn’t let him go either. The sharp rasp of claws against his skull and the steady lullaby of Alastor’s heart made him feel perilously, ridiculously close to tears.
“You know, I could make you tell me,” Alastor said, the same way you would remark upon the pleasant weather. “But I would rather not use my favor on such a silly matter. I’ll be mighty displeased if you force my hand to such extreme measures. Do we understand each other?” 
“Who cares about what you want?” Lucifer shot back automatically. Alastor waited patiently, his eyes glowing a gentle red. 
The silence stretched on, marked only by the rabbit thump-thump-thump of Lucifer’s heart and the slower swing of Alastor’s. Finally, he opened his mouth. “I invoke –”
“No! ” Lucifer slapped his hand over his lips. He could feel those razor teeth biting into his fingers, revealing the golden ichor that lay beneath. “I’ll tell you.” The only thing worse than revealing the truth was being forced to reveal it. Alastor would really hate him then. “I…I can heal you now. Fully. No conditions attached.” 
Alastor’s eyes grew wide, and understanding dawned across his sharp features. “You can get rid of it? All of it?”
Lucifer nodded.
“I won’t have to come see you?”
Again, he nodded, although a pain like lightning, like Lilith leaving, like the crash of the Fall lanced through his heart. The darkness closed in, eager for their chance to strike. 
Alastor’s lips thinned, and the room glitched, refracted into blocks of red and black. “How long have you known?”
“A bit.” Lucifer’s voice was small, barely more than a whisper. “Not long. But I could have told you earlier. I’m sorry about that.”
Alastor studied him, green symbols flashing behind him like fireworks. Then, in the blink of an eye, the room returned to normal and he sat back, creating a bit of distance between the two of them. Lucifer’s skin crawled, missing the contact immediately. 
“Apology accepted. All’s well that ends well, I suppose. But if you ever keep anything like that from me again –” The crackle of static whined and hissed, hopping from frequency to frequency; at one point, he heard the swing of a band, and the next a news report. Alastor’s eyes turned to radio dials – a clear sign he was well and truly annoyed. Sometimes Lucifer made a little game of how fast he could trigger those dials, but he got no enjoyment out of seeing them today. “Well, let’s just say I won’t be so understanding .” 
“Fine,” he agreed tiredly. “I doubt we’ll be seeing enough of each other for me to get the chance, anyways.” 
Then he slapped his hand over his stupid, traitorous mouth. Had he really said that? Maybe Alastor had a point about him being way too easy to read. 
Alastor practically purred, more of an overgrown cat than a deer. He seemed to grow in size, looming over Lucifer, the picture of satisfaction. “Is that what you were so worried about? Well, my dear, I seem to remember an interesting little offer I made the day we started this arrangement. It’s still on the table. The only thing you have to do –” he leaned forward, green lightning flickering at his edges. The air crackled, breathless, as if time had stopped for the two of them, and the two of them alone. “Is say yes. ”
Lucifer had thought long and hard about this. Several sleepless nights, even. But in the end, no matter how much he wanted Alastor, no matter how much he feared the loneliness and the darkness of his own mind, he couldn’t do it. Not because he was scared of losing his soul – he wasn’t even sure he had a soul, for starters – but because he couldn’t do that to himself or Alastor. 
They were to be equals. Partners. If the prophecy was to be true, neither of them could be chained to the other. And as flawed as Alastor was, as disgustingly, beautifully human as he could be, the more time he spent with him, the more sure he was – that Lucifer wanted Alastor to be The One. 
Even if Alastor would never be able to return his feelings.
Lucifer shook his head, extinguishing Alastor’s hopeful flame. “My answer is no. It would be unfair to you.” 
“To me?” Alastor crackled, surprise shooting his voice up several frquencies. 
“You don’t feel the way I do for you,” Lucifer bit out, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. The cards were all on the table. His hand was played. Now he waited for Alastor’s turn.
To his surprise, Alastor started laughing. 
“You angels,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he wiped a few tears from his eyes. “So simple. You always see the world in black and white, when everything is really shades of gray.” 
Lucifer frowned. “I didn’t ask for a philosophy lesson here.” 
“Do I feel the way you do for me? Do I dream of your bare skin pressed against mine? Do I think about what you might look like under that ridiculous outfit, how soft your lips might be?” Lucifer had stopped breathing entirely. His chest felt too tight and too loose, all at once. Alastor grinned, every inch the sinful abomination he claimed to be. “No, my dear. I do not. That is entirely your affliction, I’m afraid.”
Pain. Pain and hurt and humiliation. Lucifer felt about two inches tall, and growing smaller by the second. 
“But,” Alastor continued. “I haven’t entirely hated getting to know you. I must admit, I quite look forward to our little spats. You are an enjoyable adversary.”
“An enjoyable adversary?” Lucifer spat, wanting nothing more than to lick his wounds in peace. 
“ I am not finished .” Alastor’s radio static turned high, nearly obscuring his words. “As I was saying, you interest me in a way I am…unfamiliar with. It would be…uncomfortable for me if you stopped coming around.”
The world twitched and glitched. Alastor’s antlers, usually half-hidden in his hair, cracked as they grew. His ears were flat against his head. And Alastor, usually so prim and polished, so ineffable and untouchable… stuttered . Lucifer softened, feeling his injured pride heal at seeing Alastor struggle to put his own feelings – complicated as they may be – into words. Good Lord, he was actually tripping over his sentences! 
“Uncomfortable?” Lucifer asked, only half-teasing. 
“Exceedingly.”
“So you’re saying you still want me to come around?” 
Alastor winced, as if it caused him physical pain to admit to anything so annoyingly emotional. “Yes,” he bit out.
Lucifer’s gaze dipped lower, towards Alastor’s chest. To the mouthwatering bare skin beneath. Even if they did continue their strange not-quite-relationship, he would never again have an excuse to touch Alastor in that intimate way. To run his hands over his smooth skin. 
As if reading his mind, Alastor let out Hell’s most exasperated, put-upon sigh. “I am not opposed to some…contact.” His lips bared in a rather wicked grin. “As a matter of fact, I believe it will be a rather amusing carrot when I tire of the stick.” 
Bristling at the insinuation, Lucifer shot back, “I’m not some kind of donkey you can train!”
“That remains to be seen,” Alastor smiled. It was not a nice smile. Hot anticipation electrocuted Lucifer’s spine, and his mouth went dry. “Besides, I still have that pretty little carte blanche from you. How am I to use it if you’re not around?” 
“I’m sure you’ll find some creative use for it,” Lucifer grumbled. 
He hummed, no doubt a million nefarious plans running through that devious mind of his. “And if you ever get desperate, well…” He lowered his voice, his whisper like liquid sin. Pure temptation. Lucifer’s blood boiled for it. “My offer is still on the table.” 
“We’ll see,” Lucifer said. And he meant it. Maybe he would break from Alastor's incessant teasing and sell his soul to the devil (maybe he'd already lost it to him anyways). Maybe they would end up killing each other in a dramatic double murder. And maybe they would stay this way; constantly circling, constantly competing, constantly enemies for the rest of eternity. 
That was the beauty of life with Alastor - you never knew what you were going to get. And Lucifer was furiously, fiercely, fiendishly happy.
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ccalhoun · 1 year
Text
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steve rogers x m!reader x clint barton oneshot
wc: 1.3k
request: black widow's newest mission is having to protect her younger brother from the amorous advances of her male comrades. there's varying levels of success, but she notices how her brother seems most susceptible to steve and clint's charm - randomnamenottaken on wattpad
warnings: male reader, reader can be read as cis or trans, reader is natasha's younger brother, reader has similar/the same training as natasha, flirting, [name] used, kind of fanboy!reader, slight steve x clint i couldn't help myself, its a bit implied that clint and steve are together, possibly ooc characters (i haven't rewatched the mcu in awhile, apologies)
note: also, sorry for the unplanned hiatus! my computer broke and i got a new one recently. i finally have some spare time so i decided to finish some requests!! i kinda rushed it/ended it suddenly because i felt bad about taking so long, sorry!
i'm a bit rusty in writing fanfic, any and all criticism is very appreciated
cut for length!
you hesitantly walked into the avenger's tower, sticking closely to your sister's side. you were anxious about what the avengers would think of you. what if they don't like you? what if they kick you out despite needing you on a mission? your mind was racing with thoughts, though you were quickly snapped out of it by natasha's voice. not even realizing you were already at the door of the room where the avengers were. your entire future in one room.
"hey," natasha snapped in front of your face and finally got your attention, sighing in relief when you seemed to come back down to earth. "finally," she sighed, "in that room are the avengers, and the avengers are gross men who flirt with anything that has a pulse. last time i checked, you have a pulse, so," natasha sighed again before regaining her composure, "just be careful, ok?"
you nodded curtly before nat opened the door. you tried to act confident but the second the avengers turned to look at you, you felt like a deer in headlights. tony stood up when you entered, walking up to your place beside natasha and smiling charmingly at you.
"hello, mr. romanoff," tony practically purred out, taking your hand in his and almost kissing your knuckles before a soft hit to the side of his head made him drop your hand. he looked to his side only to be met with the sight of natasha staring angrily at him.
"get your hands off him, tony," nat snapped, tony took the very obvious sign and dropped your hand as he stepped back. "everyone this is my brother, he is off limits. none of you are good enough for him," she said blankly. it's not that she didn't like any of the avengers, she just didn't think they were good enough for you.
"nat it's fine, i can take care of myself," you whisper-yelled at natasha. who would want the avengers, the people who have saved the world multiple times, to think you can't protect yourself?
"you hear that? he's fine with my flirting!" tony said happily, trying to take your hand in his again before you shot your hand away from his.
"just because i can stick up for myself doesn't mean i liked your flirting," you tried to sound as confident as you could but you were talking to the tony stark, how could you not be nervous? "i'm not interested in you," you finished and were surprised when the room erupted in laugher.
"jeez tony, not everyone is as obsessed with you as you are." you heard the joking voice of steve rogers, captain america, say. you froze in place at the realization that you were about to meet captain america and stood dumbfounded at the thought. sure enough, captain america stood in front of you with his arm out in front of him to shake your hand. you quickly shook his hand as you internally freaked out.
"sorry about my friend's advances, [name], right? or should i call you mr. romanoff?" steve's voice was soft and respectful, caring in a way. you stared in awe at the much taller man before realizing he asked you a question.
"you can call me [name]," you stuttered out, failing at hiding how nervous you really were at the moment. steve nodded and smiled, releasing your hand before speaking again.
"i'm steve rogers, though you probably already know who i am based on your reaction," steve let out a small chuckle after his lighthearted teasing, giving you a small smile and shaking your hand gently, you didn't seem like the kind to enjoy firm handshakes.
"i assume you also know my colleagues but it would be impolite to not introduce you," he moved to the side of you as he started pointed to the members in the room, "that's thor, he's a god so i'd be careful around him. that's bruce banner, the hulk, he can help you with anything science related. that's clint, hawkeye, he can seem distant but he's the best guy on the team when it comes to anything you need. you've already met tony so i won't bother with him," steve let out a chuckle after the last bit, seeming to have a friendly rivalry with the brunette.
"thank you," you stuttered out, steve rogers, the captain america was talking to you! it was a dream come true! you were led to an empty chair, in between clint and where steve was sitting a few minutes prior. steve attempted to take a seat, being shoved by nat so she could sit next to you.
"nice try, rogers," she said playfully before shifting her attention to tony and bruce as they started talking about the mission that would take place in about a week. it was hard to focus, noticing the "secret" glances from steve and clint, they'd look to you and then each other as if they were having a conversation of sorts.
after the meeting, clint and steve caught up to you and natasha as you walking around the tower. tony was nice enough to give you a temporary room in the tower as you stayed for the mission and if you were lucky enough, a permanent place to stay with the avengers.
"hey steve, hey clint!" you chirp happily, waving at the two boys. they briefly wave back before seeing natasha's glare, and suddenly her warning was at the front of their minds.
"we just wanted to welcome [name] to the team, even if its only for a few weeks," clint quickly covered up, in truth him and steve were coming so they could ask you on a date of sorts, you caught both of their attention, they both found you interesting in the way they wanted to get to know more about you.
"oh, thank you, i'm happy to be here!" you said, natasha didn't buy it, she had a gut feeling that they had different intentions.
"let's get going [name], we need to be well rested. you boys should probably sleep too," natasha rushed out. it's not that she didn't trust her friends, it's just that you were her baby brother and you'll always be a baby to her!
"you're right," you said before focusing back on the two men in front of you, "goodnight clint, goodnight steve! see you in the morning," you smiled before turning back to your sister and resuming the walk to your room.
once you got to your room nat wished you goodnight, giving you a hug before going to her own room. you thought back on the day as you showered and changed, you met the avengers and two of them went out of their way to talk to you! you were buzzing with happiness, it was hard to fall asleep after a day like that! eventually after an hour of so of laying in bed you fell asleep soundly.
the next morning you were in the kitchen looking for food when you heard footsteps approaching, they seemed relaxed and fluid so you weren't worried about being ambushed. just as you thought, clint and steve walked in, stopping their conversation when they saw you. you could hear the last half of it, something about a weird dream clint had. you waved before deciding on making cereal.
"oh, [name], we meant to ask you this yesterday, would you be interested in dinner with me and steve? thor and bruce might come but that's a big might," clint said as he was opening the fridge.
"sure, when? can you pass me the milk please?" you answered, following up with the simple favor as you had poured a small bowl of cereal as you listened.
"tonight, 07:00? if that works for you," clint passed the almost empty jug of milk, "sorry about that, i guess thor got here before us," he joked.
"07:00 works, thanks," you poured the cereal and grabbed a spoon before heading back to your room, acting cool as if you hadn't just been asked to join dinner with some of the avengers.
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noturprobiem · 3 months
Text
The wangxian part of my hualian crossover fic
I don't think you need any context to get the premise, so
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Now, I've heard stories about terrifying entities before, of course, but it did not prepare me for how horrifying it would be to see a Necromancer in action.
The report told us that on the outskirts of the city, in an old neighborhood, drunkards began telling stories of zombies and demons roaming in the dark. It was our job to check, and Professor Lan enthusiastically (I'm assuming he was enthusiastic, you know how he is) took the case. The demons didn't seem to cause any harm, just asked weird questions and stole a newspaper once, so I wasn't too worried about my safety. My last encounter ended with me being swiftly sent home before I could see the events unfold, so I even got pretty curious.
We arrived in the morning but didn’t see anything odd until twilight. I thought we would spend weeks there and come back with nothing again and was already thinking of extending our stay. But before I could check the difference in ticket prices, the creature appeared.
I thought that deer was sick at first. The smell coming off of it was foul, like rust and moss, and there was something unnerving in the way it moved, something fundamentally wrong with its weak and shaking posture. Professor Lan didn’t seem surprised or scared it and slowly approached the animal. The deer looked at him with two dead, unblinking eyes. Its jaw unhinged with the sound of breaking bones.
“Lan Zhan,” the creature moaned, voice strained as if its voice chords were dry and torn. The sound made my skin crawl.
Professor Lan, on the other hand, looked star-struck. His eyes shined with an emotion I couldn’t recognize as I’ve never seen his expression change at all.
“It really is you,” he whispered.
“You may say that,” that terrible voice answered. “I was him at some point.”
The ground shook. Hundreds of birds took off the ground, screaming and rapidly flapping their dark wings, covering the sky until the last rays of light could not reach us. I felt a knot tie in the pit of my stomach, my head was spinning so hard it was impossible to see anything. When I could finally breathe again, in front of me stood a handsome young man in black robes, surrounded by three vaguely human silhouettes in red. He was petting the dead animal as if it was a cute little dog. His lustrous black hair streamed down his back like a waterfall, and there was a rusty hue to them that made me think of dirt and dried blood.
“Long time no see,” the man said. “You’ve matured.”
The silhouettes giggled behind him. They turned out to be three young women and two young men with heavy make up. At least that’s what I thought until one of them smiled, revealing a mouth full of bloody, rotten teeth. They didn’t blink. The skin on their hands was old and paper-thin, exposing veins underneath.
“You’ve changed, too,” Professor Lan said, his face so calm I almost thought he didn’t see the laughing demons. “But you shouldn’t reanimate humans.”
“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan! I haven’t seen you in years, and yet you can’t wait to scold me,” the entity said with a bitter laugh. “Did you miss it? Threatening me with your cute little institute?”
“I’ve never threatened you. I only warned.”
“Of course,” the entity smiled. “Come, drink with me. My friends can walk your intern to the hotel room.” It turned to face me then. “They don’t bite unless you want them to. They can serve food and drinks, some even sing.”
“I would rather be mugged,” I said.
“You, humans, are funny creatures. What, you don’t like demons just because they don’t look nice and pretty? You think it’s disrespectful to let them exist as anything less than beautiful?” The entity mocked. “Oh, but you don’t like when things are too perfect either. That poor little soul, Luo Binghe, didn’t you kill him too?”
“Do they…have their souls inside?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Duh. How else would they find you cute? And Lan Zhan handsome, of course.”
“Oh. I was taught…Well, we assumed you are puppeteering the bodies.”
Professor Lan nodded then, looking conflicted.
“Well. Don’t you want to get to know them, intern?”
So we went our separate ways. The demons told me their life stories in the hotel room for the duration of the weekend, and Professor Lan was nowhere to be seen until it was time to go back.
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brunossan · 4 months
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RWBY JAUNE WITCH HUNTER AU
Part 5: Cardin
*After Jaune gone missing for almost a year, The Witch Hunters Academy decided to send one of his best Hunters to go after Jaune. His name is Cardin, and very few know but he and Jaune... Were not friends*
*Right now, Cardin is going towards The Forest where Jaune was last seen, trying to find The Red Witch...*
Jaune: Ok... *He is in the Forest, removing its sword from The back of a Dead Boar* Ruby May like this. Lets see, fish for Blake, Boar for Ruby, Mushrooms for Weiss... Yang likes Steak right?
*Suddenly a branch cracks in the woods, Jaune pointing his sword towards the noise direction.*
Jaune: Who's There?!
Cardin: Wow. Now the Deer Boy wants to scream like a Wolf *appearing from behind a tree* Hey there, Deer Boy. Got everyone in the Academy missing ya.
Jaune: Cardin? What are you doing here?
Cardin: Oh the usual. The best hunter being sent to find The Worst. Typical things. Now lets see you! You look... *Jaune is wearing his armor, that is not rusty anymore* different.
Jaune: Yeah i... Got some friends.
Cardin: Right. You, The weakling of the academy, have friends now.
Jaune: Yeah, and they wont like you.
Cardin: What did you say?
*Cardin walked towards Jaune, who just lowered his head. Cardin was The one who picked on him in the academy, even beating him up at some points. Jaune didnt liked him, and specially not fighting him.*
Cardin: Tell me, Deer Boy. You really think that living in the woods, hunting wild animals and foraging! *He slaps The basket of itens from Jaune arm, making it go to the ground.* Would make you BETTER than me?
Jaune: ...
Cardin: You are right. It wont. Im just here to bring you back to the academy so your goddamn parents just shut up about losing their favourite baby. Now-
*Cardin looks up, noticing something. It was The RWBY Witches shed, and Yang, Weiss and Blake were arriving home.*
Cardin: Son of a bitch you were tracking them. The Snow Witch, The Faunus Witch and the Fighting Witch!
Jaune: Wait, Cardin! Dont go there, please.
Cardin: Why not? Should i remember your stupid ass brain what they are? They are witches! Servants of Salem, The Witch Queen! And they are made to be killed!
Jaune: Not them!
*Cardin stared at jaune with a flabbergastered expression, until he realized. So thats why Jaune disappeared. Why he looked better than before.*
Cardin: ... You are fucking them.
Jaune: What?
Cardin: So, now you are not a Witch Hunter, you are a Witch Layer? Wow, you really surpassed yourself. Or maybe... You are under a spell. *He unsheat his sword* And the only way to end a Witch Spell is killing The Witch.
Jaune: What are you going to do?
Cardin: Watch and learn, Deer Boy. Thats how you kill a Witch.
*Cardin walked towards the shed, but Jaune got on his way. He was holding his sword and shield, staring at Cardin.*
Jaune: I cant let you do this.
Cardin: You really lost your mind.
Jaune: Yeah... Probably.
*Cardin attacked first, Jaune defending with his shield and kicking Cardin, launching a cut with his sword, cutting Cardin cheek. Cardin growled, lauching several cuts, Jaune defending with his shield and sword. Cardin was impressed. Jaune really got better. Suddenly, Jaune pressed Cardin against a tree with The Shield, sheating The sword and punching him in the face.*
Jaune: Im not Deer Boy, im not a Weakling! *Punch* Im Jaune Arc! *Punch* And i will not let you badmouth my family or hurt my lovers!
*the last punch of Jaune sunken The head of Cardin on the tree, making a hole big enough to make the Tree fall, calling the attention of the other 3 witches in the Shed. Jaune looked at Cardin smashed face on the ground, panting. He Beat up his bully, but now everyone was about to discover what was going on. His friends were in danger. What he could do now?*
*Suddenly, he felt something hug him from behind. It was Ruby. She was Hugging him with a very fierce but comforting grip.*
Jaune: Ruby...
Ruby: Shh... *She hugged more* Everything is gonna be ok. Ok?
*She Kissed his cheek, and this calmed Jaune. Yes...*
*Everything was Gonna be ok*
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minaturefics · 2 years
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Sweet Summers
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Request: I’m happy to hear your requests are open! Your writing is incredible! ^^ I have a Legolas x human!reader request if that’s okay. ^^’ One that takes place in between the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings when Legolas traveled with Aragorn after leaving Mirkwood- Legolas and Aragorn stop to stay at a village during a summer festival, Legolas’ first time being at a celebration outside of Mirkwood. During the festival, he sees Reader dancing along with the music and they spend time together before Legolas leaves with Aragorn. Times passes and during the celebration of winning the war, he once again sees Reader dancing to the live music.
A/N: Helllooooooo! Sorry this took like three months but it's here now! First one back since I've been on holiday so I feel a bit rusty but hopefully it's still enjoyable, even after such a long wait. Thank you for your patience! (also idk how it ended up so long but here we are ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
Legolas x Reader
Gender-neutral reader
No content warnings
5k words
---
You wandered into the village square, taking in the merry scene before you. The entire square was alight with torches and lanterns, and colourful bunting was strung up between the posts. A quartet of musicians were setting up off to the side, and shopkeepers arranged their wares on the tables on the edges of the square. The night was warm and balmy, and the smell of roasted meat and sweet baked goods wafted around the village. 
You nodded at the people you passed and dodged the squealing children running around. You paused by one of the stands, surveying the assortment of desserts. Creamy cheesecake and glistening fruit tarts, sugar coated funnel cakes and raisin biscuits. 
“Do you want any of them, sweetheart?” Dera asked with a grin, her wrinkled eyes sparkled with mirth. “I’ll even throw in some gossip for free.”
“Perhaps a funnel cake,” you said, and placed a couple of coins on the table. She handed it over to you and you took a bite. It was still warm, the sugar melting on your tongue, and you hummed in appreciation. “Now what news do you have?”
“A couple of outsiders wandered into the village today. An elf and a man, they said, staying at the inn.”
A man was not anything novel. Men wandered through the village frequently, stopping by your village near the Merling Stream before continuing into Rohan or Gondor, but an elf was a rare thing. And a man and an elf together, rarer still. “Did they mention their business?”
She shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. “Just passin’ through, they said, but no one here believes that. They aren’t merchants, not with those bows and swords, and they don’t look like the beacon wardens. ”
“Will they be coming to the festival?” You took another bite of the funnel cake, licking the sugar from your lips. 
She shrugged. “I know some people are hopin’ they will. Mighty good looking, they are, ‘specially the elf.”
“Rich?” You smirked.
Dera laughed. “Always thinking about coin. There are other things in life.”
You glanced at your hands, eyeing the small nicks and scrapes that littered your fingers. Woodcarving had been a way to sustain yourself; it neither required you to toil in the fields or to fight the orcs and beasts in the wilds. You thought of the baskets of wooden figurines and dolls, the stacks of cutlery and bowls in your cottage.“Perhaps I should have set up a stall myself.”
“You work hard enough as it is, child. Tonight, we enjoy!” She shooed you with her hands. “Off you go, looks like they are ready to begin.”
The quartet struck up a merry tune, the rich sound of the fiddle dancing with the quick notes of the flute, and people began to flock to the centre. Dera nudged your shoulder and you joined the crowd gathering at the edges of the square. The beat of the drum resonated, amplified by the claps of the crowd, and you felt your feet tap in time. You watched the dancers, their smooth movements, their wide smiles. 
You thumbed the small carved deer in your pocket. Should you go and join them? It had been such a long time since you danced. 
The dancers began to link their hands together, pulling in members of the crowd. One of the girls, the daughter of the butcher, yanked on your arm and you spun into the fold. She held fast, flashing a grin at you, and the next person grasped your hand. There was no choice but to continue with them, kicking your legs in the fancy footwork pattern of the song and rotating with the pound of the drums.
Your eyes fluttered shut, trusting your feet and the pull of the dancers to lead you on. The flute trilled, the lyre harp fluttered. The cobblestones slipped under your feet and the breeze rushed through your hair. Your muscles burned a little and your breaths grew shorter. Laughter rose in your chest and burst from your lips. Round and round you went, until the song finished with a strong drum beat. 
Your eyes snapped open into a pair of soft brown eyes. 
You stepped back, chest heaving, and blinked at the man. He was tall and slim, and clad in a simple green tunic and trousers. 
“Apologies,” you said, “I must have lost myself in the music.”
He tipped his head to the side, a smile tugging on his lips. “It is a lovely sight, to see another so wholly lost in such a joy.”
His light blonde hair glowed golden in the lantern light, and your breath hitched at the sight of his pointed ears. An elf. The elf. Your heart sped up in your chest. The murmurs around you grew, and you could feel the eyes of others trailed on you. 
You gaped at him before shaking your head and offering him a small smile. “Are you… enjoying the summer festival, sir?”
“It is different to what I am used to but I am more curious than I am uncomfortable.” You chuckled at his honest words. “The music is more lively, the dancing more free in a way.”
The scent of something sweet in the air caught your attention and you thought of Dera. “Have you tried the food yet?”
He arched an eyebrow. “We supped at the inn before we came.”
You shook your head. “If you are to truly experience our summer festival, you must try Dera’s cakes.”
His eyes scanned the square. “And where may I find this Dera?”
“I shall lead you to her, I am in need of another sweet treat.”
You started off in the direction of Dera’s stall and the crowd parted, their eyes fixed on the elf behind you. The quartet started up again, the strum of the lyre harp echoing through the air, and the crowd’s attention drifted back to the dancing. You pressed the back of your hand to your cheeks, willing your heated skin to cool, and brushed a stray strand of hair away from your sticky forehead. 
Dera’s eyes lit up at the sight of you and the elf and she grinned at him. “Now what can I get you, sweetheart? First time at a summer festival?”
He gave her an easy smile and scanned her table. “What would you recommend? I am unfamiliar with some of the food of men.”
Dera pointed at the funnel cake and the berry tart. “These two are a good start. Where is your friend? First time at a festival and he left you on your own.”
“He has some business to attend to.” The elf counted some coins in his palm, inspecting the currency. “I believe this should be enough.”
Dera handed the treats over to him and smiled. “Well, since you are without a guide, I offer my young friend here.” 
Your eyes widened. “Dera—”
He smiled at you, eyes bright with delight. “Wonderful, I thank you very much. I am Legolas Greenleaf, though you may call me Legolas.” Dera introduced herself and you muttered your name at him. 
He glanced down at the treats in his hands and Dera took the opportunity to wink at you. “Well, no eatin’ in front of my stall young man. Go off then and find somewhere.”
He looked at you, waiting for you to speak, and you glanced at the couple weathered stone benches on the outskirts of the square. “We can sit there and not be disturbed. I do not think you appreciate the looks my village has given you so far.”
You started for the bench and he fell in step. “I am used to such looks. My companion and I, Aragorn, have been to other settlements before this.”
He sat down next to you and took a tentative bite of the tart. His brows drew together for a moment as he chewed, before his expression smoothed out. “This is quite delicious. What is this yellow cream?”
You chuckled. “It’s custard. Do elf folk not have custard?”
“No, or at least, not in such a manner. I shall have to speak to my father about this. I’m sure the kitchens would be able to imitate it.”
Your eyebrows rose. The kitchens? Why did he speak as though he was some high born? You took him in, his smooth unblemished skin, the cut of his jaw, the quality of the fabric of his tunic. He certainly didn’t look common, but perhaps even the lowest of elves had the air of nobility compared to men. How distant the elves seemed. There were always stories, of course, but how much truth was held in them?
“Legolas,” you said, and he looked up from his tart. “If I may, what is your homeland like? I have heard little of the realm of elves.”
“I hail from Mirkwood in the north. There it is green and lush, where the trees grow into each other and moss carpets the floor. The south of the forest has since fallen into shadow, but there are parts of it that remain untouched.”
You could picture it, the light streaming through the canopy, the rustle of life among the shrubs. “And what do you think of the land of men?”
He finished the tart and started on the funnel cake, humming in pleasure. Crystals of sugar clung to his lips, and your eyes lingered on the pale pink of them. “It is strange, but also wonderful. There seems to be a rush, almost an urgency about the way humans live. A fervour, perhaps, for life.”
You barked out a laugh and shook your head. “We do not have the luxury of immortality. We must make the most of our days while we can.”
A frown crossed his face. “But we have passed so many settlements where I see humans suffer. There is hunger and struggle, there is pain and conflict.”
“Yes, but there is also joy.” You gestured to the crowd at the square, tilting your head up to capture the melodious notes ringing in the air. “And we relish these moments, perhaps because of the very nature of our mortality.”
He considered your words, chewing. “I suppose if one could only eat a finite number of funnel cakes in one’s life, one would seek to savour each of them.”
You nodded. “And we humans have found excuses to celebrate with each other where we can. Birthdays and holidays, the beginning and end of each season. Maybe this is how we cope, to know that despite how short our lives are, we have mattered to another, that we have shared something beautiful together.”
He looked down at the remains of his funnel cake. “Even for something as simple as sharing the joy of a sweet treat?”
You laughed. “Especially for something like a sweet treat.”He finished the last of the cake and leaned back on his arms, staring out at the square with a content smile on his face. “Tell me stories of your kin. It is not everyday that I meet an elf.”
His brown eyes brightened and he nodded. He told you of their festival celebrating the stars, how they would sing and their voices would echo into the night, how the lakes would reflect the endless starlight. He told you about how he used to wander off as a child to explore the forest, how he would nestle himself between the great roots of a tree and feel the life humming under his touch. 
He looked young, but there was something so old about his words, longing and lingering, sighing and wistful, like the elders of the village. The clouds shifted, revealing the moon, and for a moment he was bathed in the silvery light. It outlined his handsome features, the long line of his limbs. Your heart sped up. And then it wrenched in your chest. 
This was only a moment in time, a fraction of his lifespan. You would remember him for the rest of your days, a glowing, glittering night in your memory, a dream, but he would most likely forget you.
“Are you alright, my friend?” Legolas tilted his head at you. “It seems you have gone somewhere else.”
“I was simply thinking it is a lovely night.”
“Indeed.” He smiled. “It was lucky that we were here tonight. My friend and I will have to leave the towns and cities for some time. I do not believe I shall encounter another festival any time soon.”
You shifted and the wooden deer in your pocket jabbed into your thigh. You felt for it in your pocket. “Would you… care for a souvenir of sorts? Something to remind yourself of tonight?”
He nodded slowly. “Though all the stalls are selling food.”
You offered the deer to him, the figurine small in your hand. He reached for it, his fingers brushing your palm, and your breath caught in your throat. Such smooth skin, warm and gentle. 
He held it to the light, turning it in his hand as his smile grew. “Did you carve this?”
“I did. I usually carry one or two of them, for the children.”
His eyes grew troubled for a moment. “I would hate to deprive a young one of such a charming thing.”
You shook your head. “I have others. Keep it, if you wish.”
He smiled at you, soft and slow. “You have my thanks. I shall treasure this.”
--
Legolas leaned back against the rough bark of the tree and stretched his legs out. The fire was little more than glowing charcoal and a few burning twigs. Aragron was asleep a few paces away, rolled up in his cloak and curled around himself. The browning leaves on the tree rustled as a cool breeze drifted through the small clearing. Somewhere an owl hooted. 
He pulled the carved deer you had given him from his pocket, twisting it in his hand. The low light caught the edges of your delicate strokes, picking out the texture of its fur. He imagined your hands working at the wood, dust covered and callused, careful and skilled. When your fingers had brushed his that evening a warmth had lingered on his skin. Elves always ran cooler than humans and it felt as though your touch had seared him. 
You had been so captivating in the blazing light of the lanterns, dancing with an abandon so foreign to him. It was as though the music was a part of you, moving through your limbs and lifting your heels. How wild, how beautiful. 
That night felt like some distant memory, some dream too far for him to grasp. He thought of your eyes, shimmering in the light of the moon, of your laugh, loud and joyous. He could picture you perfectly, the warm orange of the lanterns lighting half of your face, the cool light of the moon illuminating the other side. You reminded him of some of the old fables and tales, like some mythical being, caught between two worlds, a miracle of existence. 
And your words. They would not stop echoing in his mind. You were young, only a fraction of his lifespan, and yet there was something ancient about the way you spoke. He had always pitied humans for their short years but your words had made him wonder. Was he, an elf, missing out on some fundamental experience by being immortal?
That evening he was so close to asking you to… to wait for him, or something fanciful like that. A year or two while he went off with Aragorn, hunting the orcs, watching the Enemy. But a year or two was no mere ask for a human, whose life would sweep past them before they realised. He could not ask that of you,to rob you of a chance of finding another who could bring you happiness in those years.
The thought of another lacing their hands with you, drawing you close, made his heart clench. There might even be the chance that you had forgotten him. It was only an evening together, conversing to the backdrop of merry music. You must have had dozens of festivals in your life. It was probably nothing more than another to you. He was probably no more special than another passing traveller. He sighed and pocketed the deer.
Aragorn shifted and squinted over his shoulder. “Is anything the matter, my friend? I sense an unease in you.”
“Do men pity us elves?”
Aragorn considered the question, his eyes drifting to the weak fire. “I think that a great many of them envy your kind. Why do you ask?”
“I have always believed that no other could revere life as we do because of our endless life spans. But now I wonder if perhaps we do not fully understand life because of it. That perhaps we cannot comprehend it without death as a counterpoint.”
“Men and elves have different ways of life, and of celebrating it. It does not mean one is better than another.” Aragorn twisted to fully face Legolas. “What has brought such thoughts to your mind?”
“Someone at the summer festival.”
“That was over a year ago.” Aragorn arched his brow. “They must have been quite a person to weigh so heavily on you after such a time.”
Legolas nodded. “But I do not believe I shall see them again. The Enemy is growing stronger each day. I can feel it. I fear a great many battles are ahead of us.”
“That village by the river is not far off from our scouting route. We can pass through if you wish.”
“No,” he said, and closed his eyes. It would be better if he did not lay his eyes on you again. Better if he put you out of his mind. What good would it do to dwell on something beyond his grasp? “No. Our errand at hand cannot afford delay.”
--
You smoothed down your hair and tucked a carved robin into your pocket. Outside, people hurried past your modest shop front towards the upper circles of Minas Tirith. You swept your eyes over the counters and shelves, ensuring everything was arranged and prepared for the next morning, before stepping out and locking the door. The sweet scent of honeysuckle and lavender perfumed the city, wafting down from the blooming gardens in the higher circles. A distant drum beat above the excited chatter of the citizens and you joined the crowd headed towards the music. 
 The warm evening air, the faint leaping trills of the flute, the weight of a carving against your thigh. It brought back the memory of Legolas from two summers ago. His soft brown eyes, his barely there smile. Where was he now? Elves had descended upon the city in preparation for Aragorn’s coronation, but you were yet to see the flowing blonde locks that you thought of so frequently. 
Did he think of you? Did he even remember you? Perhaps you were just another human to him, fleeting, passing. Nothing interesting, nothing important.
You spared another glance behind at your shop. The last two years had been eventful. In the autumn after Legolas had left, a travelling noble had passed through your village. She had taken an immediate liking to your craft, had found your bowls and plates well made and your trinkets amusing. A short conversation and a full coin pouch later, she had convinced you to follow her back to Minas Tirith. The coin was better, and you had your own rooms above the shop, but the people of the city were more restrained than those in the country. Gone were the spontaneous village square dances, the casual shared dinners in someone’s home. 
A more comfortable life, but perhaps a more lonely one too.
The music grew louder as you approached and you peered through the heads of the crowd that formed where the market stalls usually were. A group of musicians played some jaunty tune and in the middle there were couples dancing. They whirled across the cobblestones, skirts fluttering and arms wheeling, eyes soft and smiles wide. 
How lovely it must be, to dance with another. To have warm arms encircle you, to have tender words muttered in your ear. You thought of Legolas’ gentle brown eyes and the low timbre voice. How many times have you twirled alone in your rooms, imagining his hand in yours and his lips on your temple? How many nights have you lain awake, revisiting the memory of him? 
You sighed and shook your head. The Enemy had been defeated and a new king was to be crowned — it was time to shake off the shadows and find some joy. 
The musicians changed their tune and more people began flocking to the centre. The dancers began linking arms with each other and forming small circles. You kicked up your heels and joined the closest group of people, a smile growing on your face. 
The rapid beat of the drums bounced off the high stone walls and the strum of the lute raced to follow it. With each flutter and trill of the flute, the song sped up, and heat rushed to your cheeks. You closed your eyes and tiled your head back, revelling in the harmonies of the harp. Your body moved on its own accord, feet shifting in well practised patterns and arms moving in sync with the others. 
The music reached a crescendo, the melody rising to a fever pitch, and you spun out of the circle. You swirled through the air on the tips of your toes, arms arcing in smooth motions. The last of the notes faded in the breeze and your eyes fluttered open. 
There, across the square, hemmed in by the crowd, stood Legolas. 
His lips were parted and his eyes were wide. Your feet faltered on the cobblestones and you stumbled. What was he doing here? How was it possible, after so much time, after so much death?
The crowd broke out into cheers and claps for the musicians, and dancers bowed and thanked each other. You glanced away from him, blinking rapidly and offering polite smiles to the people around you, your heart hammering in your chest. 
Would he want to see you? Speak to you? You straightened your clothes and smoothed down your hair. Valar, if you knew he was in the city you would have made more of an effort to look presentable. 
You looked up, but he was gone. 
You craned your neck, shuffling backwards out of the dancing space, looking for him as your chest tightened. Perhaps he did not wish to speak to you. Perhaps he did not even recognise you. You shook your head. You were just being ridiculous with your flights of fancies, with your daydreams and imaginings. He probably did not think of you once since that evening. 
Your back collided with something solid and you turned on your heels, apology ready to leap off your tongue. His brown eyes, as soft as you remembered, peered into your own. 
“Legolas,” you whispered, “I… Good evening, sir.”
A smile stretched across his face. “I did not think you remembered me.”
“I did not think you remembered me.”
“You are impossible to forget.” The music struck up again and he leaned closer to you. His scent filled the space around you. Woody and fresh, like a forest on a spring morning. “If it is not too much trouble, may I request your company for this evening?”
You blinked at him and your jaw worked. Another evening with Legolas?
His brows drew together and he took a small step back. “Unless… You are already in the company of another?”
You shook your head and his brow eased. “What would you wish to do?”
“There was a stall nearby selling funnel cakes I believe. If you have not eaten, perhaps we can find some sweet treats.”
You grinned before you could stop yourself and he tilted his head in the direction of the market stalls. Legolas located the dessert stall and inclined his head at the matronly lady behind the display. He handed her a few coins and she passed two warm funnel cakes to you.
He led you to one of the stone benches by a watchtower, away from the buzz of the crowd, and sat next to you. The sun was just dipping below the horizon and its rays painted the fields a warm orange. You tore off and popped a piece of the cake into your mouth. The cinnamon and sugar melted on your tongue and you sighed.
“It has been quite some time,” Legolas began, “How did you come to be in Minas Tirith?”
“My wares attracted a wealthy patron. I have a shop in one of the circles below this.”
“And has the city been to your liking?”
“It is certainly much more interesting than my little village but…” Your eyes drifted towards the mountain ranges in the distance. Beyond them, between dense trees and by the rushing river, your village still stood, unblemished by the war. “But I do long for the ease of familiarity, for the comfort of knowing another would be there should you need them.”
“Minas Tirith, while beautiful, can be a cold city. Away from the green of the forest, my companions have been a great comfort to me, and Aragorn —”
“King Aragorn?” You gaped at him. “You… You know him?” You blinked rapidly, words and gossip from the last few months filling your mind. The elf and the dwarf that accompanied the returned king to Mordor… The elf prince of Mirkwood… 
“Yes, he is one of my closest companions.”
Your body went cold. What were you thinking? He was a hero, a prince. And what were you? Some common carver, some unknown person. There would be no chance now, not even the slightest sliver of hope. It would be better just to stop before your heart runs away with itself. 
Your eyes lingered on his long eyelashes, how they almost appeared transparent in the setting sun, on the sharp edges of his cheekbone and jaw, on the pale column of his throat. Maybe you could be happy as his friend, simply watching from afar. A friend, yes, that would be better than nothing. But even then, he might be going away after the coronation, back to his towering trees and moss covered rocks. 
“Is something the matter?” Legolas asked, finishing the last bit of his funnel cake.
“I am just thinking that chance has favoured us for us to have met twice.”
“Yes, I had hoped…” He glanced away, eyes on the horizon. “I had hoped that we would meet again. And chance has been even more generous, for we now reside in the same city.”
“You are not returning to Mirkwood?”
A smile pulled at the corners of his lips, his voice growing tender. “No, I think I finally understand what you spoke of that evening, and I have found people I wish to share that… burning of life with.”
Your cheeks flushed. Your words had stayed with him since that evening? “I’m sure your companions will be happy to hear that.”
His eyes drifted back from the horizon to yours. His brown eyes had melted into a deep, warm amber in the orange light. His voice was low, tentative, when he spoke. “It is not just my companions who I wish to share my time with.” 
Did he mean you? You blinked at him, jaw working. 
“I am aware we are not closely acquainted,” he murmured, brows drawing together. “But it is just I have thought of little else, of no one else, but you since that evening.”
Was it truly possible? That he could return even a fraction of what you felt for him?
“Forgive me,” he whispered, glancing away. “If I have upset you with my words. I am still learning the ways of men.”
“No, no,” you said, heart swooping in your chest. “I have thought of you frequently since that night. Wondering, hoping.” He turned to face you and you reached out for his hand on the bench. 
Your trembling fingers curled around his. His hand was cool, nearly as cool as the stone beneath it, and his skin was impossibly smooth. A quiet sigh escaped his lips and he smiled. His thumb caressed your knuckles before he lifted your hand to press a kiss to your fingers. His lips were warm and soft, his breath featherlike on the back of your hand.
“I find your hands captivating,” he admitted, running his fingers over your calluses. 
“Do you not think them rough and unrefined?”
“They show character, of your time spent on something you love, of your cleverness and skill. Elves do not develop such marks, no matter how many years we devote ourselves to something.”
You eyed the hardened patches on your skin. “Yes, I suppose they have created some beautiful things.”
“I must confess a small terrible thing to you,” he said, a rueful smile on his face. “I lost the carved deer you gifted me with. We were beset by orcs while tracking our kidnapped friends. It must have fallen out of my pocket in the fight.”
Your heart clenched at the thought of him keeping your carving with him since that night? “It is no matter,” you said, smiling. “I can carve you another one.”
“You would give me such a gift again?”
“I would carve you one every summer should you wish it.”
“I would wish for nothing more than your company every summer.” 
“Only in the summer?” You laughed, squeezing his fingers.
“Every season,” he said, voice low as he leaned closer. His lips brushed your temple and your eyes fluttered shut. “For as many as you are willing to give.”
“All of them,” you muttered. “As many as I have to give.”
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crowcaws · 6 months
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Inspired by a twitter thread i saw, I, Australian and certified dumb of ass, will now list every main American state and what I associate it with/what I think it's about/famous for WITHOUT GOOGLING. These thoughts will be stated as fact regardless of whether or not they are true.
Alabama - Banjos. Reese Witherspoon lives here. Shares a border with Florida for some reason. Fifteen people live here. I'm glad i'm not allowed to google because i feel like i'd find things i don't want to know.
Alaska - Mountains. Balto. State flower is a tree of some kind. The roads are just the tyre tracks in the snow of the vehicles that came before whispering "trust me". Kodiak is here, where Pitbull famously said 'keep fucking around, we'll be on the moon next.' I think this is where Mulder and Scully got fucked up by a brain worm.
Arizona - Desert but not the Las Vegas kind. The granyon canyon. State flower is a cactus. State bird also a cactus. Bella Swan got fucked up in a dance studio here. It seems very scenic.
Arkansas - The name of this state makes me think of rusty old utes and that's it, that's all I've got. "Pickup trucks" or whatever. Grow up.
California - The great Lucille Bluth once said, "I'd rather be dead in California than alive in Arizona" but personally I think i'm with Michael on this one. California has Hollywood and an ok tourist beach. Green Day are from here. San Francisco seems cool though, I like how it looks like a city designed specifically to kill skateboarders and cyclists. State flower is a grand theft auto PS2 disc. Population: more than Australia.
Colorado - Mountains. Elks and Deer and Eagles and Giraffes on ski slopes. Much domestic tourism, have never once heard of anyone from outside the US specifically visiting Colorado though idk. Verdict: America's New Zealand.
Connecticut - The dry weetbix of states. I think of monopoly but I can't remember why. State flower is a dandelion that has been stepped on. Biggest export is men's office attire, specifically brown two piece suits and those short sleeve button ups. I only found out today that there's a C in the middle of Connecticut I always thought it was 'Conneticut'.
Delaware - Delawhere the fuck is this state I have no idea. Probably still cooler than Connecticut. Famous for combination fast food chains and buildings that clearly used to be a pizza hut (you can tell by the roof). Idrk what Cracker Barrel is but I can tell you the employees spawn here.
Florida - Biscayne bay. Manatees. Shaped like a sock, or something else. Famous for hotels, motels, and holiday inns. Would be a fun state if not for the fact that every politician in charge of it is fucking it up so so bad. One of the few places in the USA where you can see the Southern Cross constellation. Miami Dale forever RIP Logan Horseman.
Georgia - peaches. atlantis. brisket. no other thoughts detected, moving on
Hawaii - Famous for killing James cunt Cook which is honestly a deserved and certified W for Hawaiians. Plagued (and I do mean plagued) by tourists, including Australian Prime Ministers ignoring national emergencies.
Idaho - Sleepy. Things don't happen here but when they do they happen so much because nothing happens here. National flower is probably like a daisy or something so so normal.
Illinois - Chicago bean. It's dark and we're wearing sunglasses. WatchDogs the game. Famous for girlbosses who kill their husbands. Population 11 millions.
Indiana - Rainy probably. Honestly I only remember this state exists because of Stranger Things, which I understand this is like someone saying they only remember Australia exists because of Crocodile Dundee but look. Population: At least 10.
Iowa - This is such a place to be from if you're moving to the big city because all the other waitresses at the diner back home said you got a voice worth payin for and you finally stopped letting your papa tell you what to do. Famous for crop duster planes. State flower is long grass.
Kansas - Famous for scarecrows, wheat and the like. Probably fun at Halloween actually. Great place to fake an alien sighting. I just remembered Dorothy is from here. Population: Yes.
Kentucky - Fried chicken. NASCAR. Speedway. Derby. State flower is a blown out tyre on the side of the road.
Louisiana - Very wet but in a pretty way. Birthplace of the Saxophone. New Orleans is officially the strongest reason I would ever be tempted to set foot in this country. New York wishes she was this beautiful. Famous for the Vampire Diaries spinoff The Originals.
Maine - Next to Kentucky. Lobsters are from here which means there's water, but don't ask me where. Famous for The Vampire Diaries. State flower is a rose, beautiful but generic, like a YA protagonist.
Maryland - Rural but in a manageable way. I think of letterboxes with the family last name on it. Grandmas love it here. Hairspray the musical.
Massachusetts - Ohhhh Legally Blonde. Boston. Harvarb Law. The colour brown. When pronounced it's a very nice name for a state actually.
Michigan - I reference 'can't have shit in Detroit' almost daily but I know almost nothing else about Michigan.
Minnesota - Mini Soda. Also a good state name. No idea what's here, deer or elk or beavers. There's no way to know for sure.
Mississippi - I like this state name less but only because it's hell on the lisp i battle to mask. It's named after a river. It's on the coast. Next to Pennsylvania.
Missouri - A lot of M states happening here. This place is famous for nothing. I don't know what the capital city is but it's definitely a place you move to for your job instead of like. On purpose. Population: 3 million. It's in the middle somewhere.
Montana - This state's main export is horse girls, very Saddle Club coded. It's on the Canadian border, but it shouldn't be like that. It should be in the middle. Hannah Montana's dad was all Nashville but he's basically from Toronto. Fucked up if you ask me.
Nebraska - When I think of Nebraska I think of those depressing Walmart carparks where there's nothing for miles except for the Walmart and one lady pushing a flatscreen in a trolley to the dodge ram she parked 600m away from the entrance so it won't get dinged by other car doors, because god forbid her utility vehicle show signs of wear.
Nevada - viva rock vegas (the flintstones). There's a salt lake here but NOT a salt lake city. That's somewhere else. I think there's motorsport here. NO WAIT THERE IS because i saw charles leclerc on the sphere on tv and he was so wide and i laughed so hard i choked on my own spit.
New Hampshire - What the fuck is New Hampshire that's not real. I thought it was like some beach suburb in New York state. What the fuck. Regardless. I bet you could pull up to the side of the road in New Hapshite and buy an avocado no questions asked. Probably like the USA's Byron Bay.
New Jersey - Everyone from here says it's bad. It makes me think of t shirts with a longer sleeve t shirt underneath and 2000s pop punk music. Gerard Way.
New Mexico - High School Musical is set in Albuquerque. High School Musical is also the only reason I can pronounce Albuquerque. This state is famous for High School Musical.
New York - She's talking over the rest of you and for what? Wall Street? Ugh. Kinda like the Melbourne of the USA.
North Carolina - I feel like cowbutch lesbians do numbers here for some reason. You could disappear into the hills with a woman in a tank top and assless chaps here if you were brave enough. Men do live here but they're treated like a new cast member on the fifth season of a sitcom, this one's for the girls.
North Dakota - Dakota is Carolina's femme girlfriend and they're in love.
Ohio - This is like that town in Cars that lightning mcqueen gets stuck in and the tourist cars are like oh we're only here because of a wrong turn. Yeah. You might find fireflies here though. Also Ohio is for Lovers or something.
Oklahoma - Swear word for Christians. Absolutely nothing happens here and if it does i feel like it involves chasing livestock.
Oregon - Prairies. This is where the Prairies are. Famous for the people who died while trying to be Not In Oregon.
Pennsylvania - Famous for The Office. And Dracula jokes. That's all i've got.
Rhode Island - Famous for winning Miss United States with the flaming batons routine in Miss Congeniality starring Sandra Bullock. Very small state. Possibly the smallest one but who's to say.
South Carolina - If north is for the lesbians, south is for the gays.
South Dakota - As above.
Tennessee - Country music and whiskey and line dancing, which is actually kinda hot when goth girls do it. Overall, Tennessee is the USA's answer to Gympie, which is a question that nobody asked. Overall i just think of the colour brown. Famous for Hayden Penterre. Penetentiary. Pendulum.
Texas - A South Australian would say Texas is famous for it's adorably small cattle farms. Lucky for me, i am not South Australian. This is the state that other states call redneck and racist to hide the fact that they are also redneck and racist, perhaps more so. Contains two of the main cities to name boys after. Dave Strider lives here. (Sorry for the Homestuck jump scare so late in the game.)
Utah - Salt Lake City. That bass pro shop monolith was here. In general i think of the colour orange. Home of the Hellmouth Sunbeams.
Vermont - Vermont is a state in the same way the spleen is an organ. Population: Zero.
Virginia - Is this not the same thing as Vermont?
Washington - Famous for Bella where the hell you been loca. Twin Peaks is probably set here idk i forgot all parts of the show that were not log lady. White House. Effervescent.
West Virginia - From the lyrics "Mountain mama. Take me home. Country road" we can determine that West Virginia has Mountains, Milfs, Homes, and Roads. I know nothing else about West Virginia.
Wisconsin - Wiscaaaansin. Whis-cahn-sin. There are definitely elks here. That 70's Show is set somewhere beneath the surface of this place. Population: grandparents and elk. I feel like you could get fucked up by a creature here if you're not careful. It's got trees and lakes and shit creatures love those. I think Yellowstone is somewhere around here.
Wyoming - Great lakes? Great lakes. This state is actually all lake. Idk. I like the name though, the verbiage of it all. Wyoming my way downtown. State flower is an empty wrapper blowing by down the street. Population: 800,000. Definitely a place you could go missing and never be seen again.
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thgfanfictionlibrary · 8 months
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Mature Rated Fics Masterlist (22)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21 /
Created: December 16th, 2023
Last Checked:------
Little Deer, Little Sun, Little Coincidence-orphan_account (ao3) Summary: Katniss is less than enthused when Prim all but forces her to spend the evening at the fair with Johanna instead of with the twins, especially when Johanna's friend-of-a-friend joins them under the Ferris wheel. That is, until she recognizes this friend-of-a-friend: Peeta Mellark, the personable boy who went away to some fancy, big-city college six years ago. Obviously there's some catching-up to do, and more than can be done on a Ferris wheel, too, but being a single mother for nearly five years has left her a bit rusty in the flirtation department.
Miles Cross-Mejhiren (ao3) Summary: ‘And they that wad their true-love win / At Miles Cross they maun bide.’ Katniss holds Peeta through a critical episode, paralleling Janet in the old Scottish ballad of Tam Lin (often told as a fairy tale in prose form). “Miles Cross” is the crossroads where Janet pulled her lover from his horse and, by holding him through his many frightening transformations, won him from the fairies. Canon oneshot, post-MJ; written for the THG Fairy Tale Fic Challenge.
Rebound Girl-Diana_Flynn (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen only goes for only one type of man. It doesn’t matter how tall he is, the color of his hair, or even his personality. What she wants is the man fresh out of a relationship. She likes being that temporary girl the guy uses to lick the wounds of his bruised heart. Too bad Peeta Mellark changes everything for her.
Refuel, Restore, Realign-JennaGill (ao3) Summary: Peeta and Katniss take a chance they missed in high school, changing life paths and testing family loyalties. “No son, it’s a family business. And blue means loyalty, family loyalty. It means obligation. It means duty. Values we Everdeens and Hawthornes hold high.” Mr. Everdeen takes a deep breath and looks me over once more. “I can see from your expression that you’re not following me son, forget the damn sign. It means my daughter will not date you. Katniss’ path is not with you.”
The Dreadful Beauty-Diana_Flynn (ao3) Summary: She watches him, the beautiful blonde boy who has become a fixture at the bar/brothel she buses tables at. He just sits there and waits, and she wishes she knew what gave him that chip on his shoulder. Mutt is her name, and no one cares to remember what her real one is, or even notice her. She doesn’t care either, as long as she makes ends meet . But her life will change when that boy with so much to hide notices her. Everlark Fanfiction Inspired by East of Eden. Takes place in World War I Era, Monterey CA.
The Mockingjay and the Mutt-Abagail_Snow (ao3) Summary: While taming a hijacked Peeta in District Thirteen, Katniss comes to understand a side of him that she had never allowed herself to see. Loosely based on Beauty and the Beast.
The Need for Speed-Peetabreadgirl (ao3) Summary: Race car driver, Peeta Mellark, is chasing his first racing title, but along the bumpy road he ends up lost, stuck in Panem Springs where he meets an enchanting, silver-eyed trophy of a different kind.
The Unexpected Message-Diana_Flynn (ao3) Summary: Years after the war has ended Katniss has a fight with Peeta, but she finds an a gift that changes her perspective.
This is Halloween-bubblegum1425 (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen has been in love with her best friend, Peeta Mellark, for nearly as long as she'd known him. They'd grown together, carrying on their yearly Halloween tradition of watching The Nightmare Before Christmas and other scary movies, but this year was going to be different. This year, Katniss is finally going to use their time together to tell Peeta how she feels…if he doesn't ruin her plans first. College Everlark. Modern AU
We will call this place our home-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: “She closed her eyes, trying to hold in the disappointing sting of being duped. This man was indeed Peeta Mellark, her husband.” An arranged married in three parts. Everlark.
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