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#they are fine with him as a friend but explicitly ask that he not let anyone else know about their existence
thevalleyisjolly · 1 year
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As an archivist, thinking about the right to be forgotten in a specifically archival context, and the idea that not everyone wants their stories or their records to be made available to anyone/for everyone; that often, what a community judges to be the best preservation for their own histories and culture is not what is beneficial to outsiders, especially outside academics.
More specifically, thinking about this in the context of Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit/The Silmarillion/other Legendarium books as “historical” texts.  Thinking about maybe the “authors” not writing everything down because they understand the power of stories and how the telling of a thing grants a certain power over it, over how it is known and spread, and positions the teller as a figure of authority over what (and who) is depicted.
We already know that Bilbo is an unreliable narrator, that he changes things and leaves things out.  There were a few posts and fics years ago, when the Hobbit movies came out, about Bilbo befriending a young Estel in Rivendell and deliberately leaving that out of his stories at Gandalf/Elrond’s request.  What other things might he have left out, perhaps, out of respect for his friends in the Company and their desire to keep their culture and language private and closed? 
Pengolodh compiling the Annals of Beleriand from which came the greater part of The Silmarillion - but he was in Gondolin for much of the First Age, and would have had to rely on other sources to give an account of the rest of Beleriand.  Who did he talk to?  What might they have said and not said, and what might they have requested he include or keep out? 
Anyways, the Legendarium as an archive, something actively created and shaped by the different people in and around it, who both added things and left things out unintentionally or by design or on request. 
#lotr#silmarillion#ironically this would make the archivists of middle-earth more respectful and conscious of this than many irl archivists#i jest; there are many excellent archivists who are putting the time and the effort in to do the work right and to spearhead change#not that there aren't still a great many traditionally trained archivists who are being absurdly obstinate about this#but there is progress; however slow; being made in the archival field about recognizing people's rights to their own records#writing this instead of my personal archives paper asdfghjkl;#this isn't the main point of this post but i also like to headcanon post war of wrath burgeoning loremaster elrond#travelling around and meeting different communities and hearing their stories#and sometimes they ask him to share those stories with others and many other times they ask him not to spread them#he meets a kindi tribe in the east who have no desire to be involved in any of the bullshit happening over in the west#they are fine with him as a friend but explicitly ask that he not let anyone else know about their existence#he befriends dwarves living in the blue mountains who wish people to remember the glory of tumunzahar and gabilgathol#but who don't want their culture and language widely spread for outsiders to know#he reestablishes contact with the silvan elves in the greenwood who are eager to hear news of their long sundered kin#and request that he bring news of them to the survivors of ossiriand
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random0lover · 5 months
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I hate men and their need to act like any emotional reactions you have while you’re on your period is just you being “hormonal” and “not yourself”
(Rant in tags)
#like sorry I’m actually defending myself rather than just letting you talk shit about me directly infront of me??#when I’m on my period I tend to show more of my real emotions rather than what people want to see so yeah#but the conversation I was having with my brother was fine- I wasn’t talking to him in any way#he asked me about the monster that I had because like an hour or two ago he asked me not to throw it away since it’s one with the cod#qr code thing on it and he asked me if I threw it away and I said “no it’s not empty right now it’s infront of the microwave” and right#after my dad jumps in saying nobody needs to take offense to how I’m talking or how I’m being? when I didn’t say anything in any way? like#my brother didn’t even have the time to respond to me before he jumped in and started indirectly talking shit#I’m so done right now- all he’s done the last few days is nit pick at me about stupid shit like yesterday we missed the our bus stop and we#get off and this man starts yelling at me that now he doesn’t get to eat (mind you he never explicitly said he wanted to get off at that#stop I thought we were just going directly home)- he constantly says shit on purpose to get a rise out of me and now for some reason my#brother (the one that is 17) has been budding in and telling me to stfu and all this shit and my dad feeds off it and uses it as more of a#reason to justify how he’s treating me and it’s just so upsetting cause he does know I’m in a more vulnerable time right now since my period#is always really difficult anyways really sorry for the rant don’t have any friends I can talk to irl about any of this so to the internet#it goes 🙃#random0lover emotional dumps#random0lover rambling ♡
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abyssruler · 6 months
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a dummy’s guide to dating your crush, by lyney
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lyney x gn!reader
lyney has loved you from the moment your childish small hands found each other for the first time and never let go. it’s just too bad that you don’t feel the same way, but that was fine, lyney has mastered the art of pretending. or — the one where lyney tries, and fails, to set up a few dates with you, and inadvertently wins your heart in the process.
childhood friends to lovers-ish, delulu lyney, one-sided crush, jealous lyney, slight neuvillette x reader
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You and Lyney have always been close, even as children living beneath roof of the hearth and Father’s careful guidance. You were one of the first children to accept him and Lynette when they were still strangers in a new, unfamiliar place.
You were the first person to hold his hand apart from his sister, a brightness to your eyes as you led him to a secret nook that you claimed would be a hiding place for only you and him. You were the first person to make him laugh after a failed mission, the first person who held him as he cried silent tears that he’d tried to hide from his siblings, the first person who kissed his cheek and promised to ease the burden on his shoulders.
You’re the first person he’s loved that isn’t explicitly family, though that isn’t quite right either, because you are family. Not in the same way Lynette and Freminet are family to him, but family in the way two close friends are family—family in the way a man might consider his spouse family.
And it feels almost natural to come to such a conclusion. Like flicking on a light switch and realizing that little has changed save for the fact that he now sees so much more. After all, why shouldn’t his natural conclusion be that you two belonged together the way two spouses would?
You’ve always been close, know each others’ secrets, have each others’ backs, and so much more. It’s a relationship built from years and years of trust and affection, and really, can he be blamed for thinking that your shared history must mean something more? That it has set the foundations for a love so great it could rival romance novels? You’ve known each other since you were children, would and have killed for each other, and he imagines if he asks you if you love him, you would say yes. Never mind the specifics of whether that love was romantic or familial, what mattered was that you would say you love him.
Lyney is so far gone in his delusions and fantasies that he fails to see the glaring fact that he pointedly refuses to acknowledge, the glaring fact that everyone but him has made peace with, because you never go a day without telling everyone how much you like—
“Monsieur Neuvillette!” you call out, a smile lighting up your features as you turned away from Lyney to face the man, the myth, the legend himself.
Neuvillette, also known as the bane of Lyney’s existence.
The proper, rational thing to do was to ask you out on a date, a bouquet of flowers in hand as he invited you to a high-end restaurant or to watch one of the operas showing that night. But, as Lynette would say, when has Lyney ever been rational?
So, he reserved a seat at restaurant that he heard from the grapevine was a popular spot for couples, bragging to the receptionist how he was bringing a date that night. And if he made sure to make his voice come off a little louder, to make his presence more known? Well, it certainly had nothing to do with him wanting rumors to spread of him taking you out on a date in a restaurant well-known for hosting couples. Nope.
“I believe this is your date, Monsieur Lyney?” the receptionist from before asks, a knowing look in her eyes as her gaze darted to yours and Lyney’s clasped hands. He nods in response.
“Monsieur Lyney,” you whispered to him with a teasing laugh that sent his stomach rolling pleasantly—that was, until you realized what the receptionist actually said. “Wait a minute, date?”
Lyney laughs off your confused look, pretending not to have heard the latter part of your statement.
“I hear they serve your favorite dessert here,” he says in a rather horrible attempt at changing the topic that would have had Lynette staring at him with unimpressed eyes. Thankfully, you’re not as sharp as his sister, and thus, more easily distracted by the prospect of delicious food.
Once you’re seated at the table that Lyney had made sure was facing the windows, offering a view of the vast ocean outside, he takes the time to appreciate the much better view in front of him: you with furrowed brows as you squinted at the letters on the menu, your lips jutted out in consideration, a serious look in your eyes like you’re about to decide the fate of the world instead of what you’ll have for dinner.
Lyney finds it all endearing.
He opens his mouth to ask you something—but then he promptly closes it shut when the distant baritones of a voice reaches his ears. Familiar, deep, and so very unwelcome.
Evidently, you hear it too, because the menu on your hands is forgotten in favor of a wide grin that isn’t directed at Lyney, no, you turn your head—swivel, more like—so quickly he almost fears for the state of your neck.
He doesn’t need to turn to know just who that voice belongs to, but the sheer happiness in the tone of your voice is unmistakeable as you raised a hand in greeting for the man who continues to haunt Lyney’s nightmares.
“Monsieur Neuvillette, it’s been a while since I last saw you!”
A while, yes, if six hours ago could be considered a while. Lyney would know, he’d been crouched on top of the tree that overlooked you and Neuvillette as you sat on a bench and spoke in an almost friendly manner. Freminet hadn’t been happy to be dragged into what his younger brother dubbed was a gross violation of your privacy, but it wasn’t a violation of your privacy when you were out in public where any passing stranger could see you. If you asked Lyney, he was only making sure Neuvillette didn’t do anything untoward towards you, like smiling at you, or talking to you, or just being within a hundred-meter wide vicinity of you.
Unfortunately for Lyney, the esteemed Chief Justice of Fontaine did all those things. And as if that wasn’t enough, he even grazed his fingers over your hair when a stray leaf landed on it! Truly a vile man, abusing his authority in order to get close to you and touch your hair, smiling and talking to you as if Lyney didn’t exist. Lyney, who’s known you since you were children. Lyney, who brushed your hair every morning and did everything you asked without hesitation.
Lyney, who was your soulmate!
“Lyney, you wouldn’t mind if the Monsieur sat with us, would you?”
And now Neuvillette had the gall to insert himself in, when Lyney had planned this to be a romantic date for two, not three.
He knows if he said no you wouldn’t push the issue anymore, but you’re looking at him with such hopeful eyes, even clasping your hands together to your chest, that Lyney can hardly find it in himself to say no.
For the rest of the night, he’s forced to endure watching you and Neuvillette make easy conversation while he silently stabs at his steak. He wonders which god he must have offended to make him feel like a third wheel in the date that he himself planned.
It becomes a reoccurring trend.
Lyney would ask you to meet with him, either at the park or by the fountains or in the opera or merely at one of his magic shows—though he never specifically tells you that it’s a date. And before he could make any sort of move to indicate that he feels more for you than a childhood friend should, Neuvillette arrives and takes up all your attention.
It doesn’t seem to be intentional, or even a malicious act. The Chief Justice always seems pleasantly surprised to see you, and he’s never rude to Lyney. It’s just that…
“Monsieur Neuvillette, do you think these flowers would look good displayed by my window?”
The man in question seems to ponder deeply over your words, regarding the bouquet in your hands seriously as though it were a matter of life and death. Lyney remains standing behind the two of you, feeling a little out of place, as though he were the one intruding on Neuvillette’s time with you instead of the other way around.
“Yes, they would fit well with the general backdrop of Fontaine. Although personally,” Neuvillette plucks a single flower from the bundle and places it on your hair, “I think they would look best displayed like this on you.”
Lyney’s jaw drops to the floor. His eyes bulge out of their sockets. His hair begins to fall one by one until his bald head is left shining in the mid-afternoon sun.
I think they would look best displayed like this on you.
I think they would look best displayed like this on you.
I think they would look best displayed like this on you.
Neuvillette’s words keep repeating in his head like a particularly annoying fly buzzing around his ear, taunting him with the fact that while he may hold you freely and spend as much time with you as he can, he will never be the man who so easily captures your attention and keeps it.
You’re smiling, a bashful tint to your eyes as you looked up at Neuvillette beneath your lashes, fingers touching the petals of the flower now nestled in your hair.
It’s a sickeningly romantic scene, like something out of a play or movie or song. Lyney wants to claw his eyes out, though mostly he wants to snatch that flower off your hair and replace it with a rainbow rose, his signature flower. His.
Lyney takes a single step forward to interject, to insert himself into the conversation and make himself known, to keep you from looking at Neuvillette with those eyes that should be directed at him.
But before he can utter a single word, you move to pluck a flower from the bouquet and place it behind Neuvillette’s ear, a mirror image to the one he placed on you.
And it’s like watching something inevitable, like being a bystander to someone else’s story.
Lyney sees you laugh at something Neuvillette says in a tone too low for him to hear, but the happiness and brightness radiating off of you is unmistakable. There’s a bounce to your step as you lead Neuvillette away to whatever store has tickled your fancy, a brief glance thrown in Lyney’s way to make sure he’s still there. An afterthought at best.
As he watches you and Neuvillette parse through the menu of a cafe, the two of you standing so close that a fly would be hard-pressed to find a way between, he comes to the realization that there isn’t space left for him, that just as he thought before, he was the intruder here. The third wheel of a bicycle, the extra cog in a machine, a piece in a puzzle that doesn’t fit.
And it’s painful to acknowledge his own insignificance, but the truth has always been right in front of him, taunting him with your besotted look that isn’t directed at him.
He stands there quietly, thinking to himself that if he were in a play, this would be the prelude to the climax, the one where the unwanted third party finally leaves and allows the two lovers to be together.
So he does just that.
He bids you goodbye, claiming an excuse about promising Lynette to rehearse for their latest show. You’re sad to see him go, but it’s overshadowed by the smile that blooms on your lips when your eyes moves past him and onto Neuvillette. He watches it all with an acceptance akin to a man walking to the executioner’s block.
Lyney leaves, resignation heavy on his chest.
(He doesn’t see the sympathetic pair of eyes that follow his back as he walks away.)
It had been relatively sunny outside that morning, only for a torrential downpour to begin that afternoon. It was during that sudden rainstorm that you knocked on the entrance to the house Lyney and Lynette live in, utterly drenched from the rain with a melancholic smile on your face.
Before Lyney could even begin to tell you to come in and ask you what’s wrong, you beat him to it.
“I confessed my feelings for Monsieur Neuvillette.”
And Lyney feels himself stiffen, limbs locking in place from where he’s half leaning on the doorway, half gesturing for you to enter his home.
He doesn’t know why he’s so surprised about it. He should have seen this coming from miles away—have seen this coming from miles away, he’d simply refused to believe what had always been in front of him. But for your feelings to go that deep that you’d confess…
Before he can fall down into an unending spiral of despair and self-recrimination, you once again upturn his whole word with a few measly words.
“He rejected me though.” You laugh to yourself, more self-depreciating than anything. “And… I suppose it was a bit presumptuous of me to assume that he liked me back.”
There’s a sadness to your eyes that Lyney hasn’t seen since you were children, having seen your first death. And now that same sadness is painted across your face, all because of one man who didn’t see the treasure that was right in front of him.
Lyney would have never done that to you.
But all of that matters little now, because you’re here standing in his doorsteps covered in rainwater, seeking comfort in him instead of anyone else. So, really, what else is he to do but step close and wrap you in his arms? Heedless of the fact that he’ll be getting his clothes wet.
You bury your face in his shoulder, reciprocating the embrace, your arms around him as familiar a sensation as the feeling of the wind on his cheeks and Lynette’s presence by his side. Constant. Something he will always remember.
“Perhaps it’s for the best,” you murmur despondently. “He is the Chief Justice of Fontaine, and I… we are Fatui.”
Lyney feels a jolt of something zip through him at the mention of we, because yes, it has always been you and him (and Lynette and Freminet), him and you. The Magician and his most avid watcher. We, we, we.
So Lyney smiles despite your obvious heartbreak at Neuvillette’s rejection. A part of him knows he shouldn’t be thinking such things when you’re clearly upset, but it’s hard not to do so when his chest has felt the lightest it’s been in weeks.
Is he thankful that Neuvillette rejected you? No, of course not. Not when it’s brought about a melancholic sheen in your eyes and a downcast turn to your lips. But neither is he entirely against Neuvillette’s rejection of you.
He cards his fingers through your hair the same way you used to do with his, back when he still hadn’t quite mastered the art of carefully coiling his hair so that it won’t get in his face.
You eventually pull away, a look of acceptance on your face. Lyney doesn’t think much of it when he reaches out to grab your hand, it’s when you intertwine your fingers together that all thoughts and rationality promptly go out the window.
He wants you so much, and now that you’re finally here, here without anyone to hold him back, he’ll allow himself this one impulsive decision.
“Lyney, thank—”
“What do you say about lunch tomorrow? My treat,” he blurts out, only to immediately flush red when he realizes what he’s just said.
You pause, eyes blinking rapidly for a few moments before you crane your head and look at him, really look at him.
Beyond the mischievous smiles and the lenses of a childhood gone by, beyond the little acts of affection that you’d thought was common between friends—beyond everything that used to color your perception of him, stands someone who is looking at you as though you’re the only person in the entire world who matters. Not the boy who used to follow you around with wide eyes and a hesitant smile. Not the young magician who fumbled with his cards whenever you teased him.
No, this is Lyney. Just… Lyney, with his soft eyes and patient smile with the barest hint of nervousness in the corners of his lips.
And oh, how blind you must have been to miss this.
But you don’t dwell on it, on this newest revelation of Lyney and his feelings for you, because you’re you, and he’s him, and the two of you have an entire life’s worth of time to ponder over friendships and changes and love. It’s easy to place it in a back burner, to be analyzed when you aren’t so drenched in water and Lyney isn’t so deep in his own head.
So, instead of consternating over the realization that your best friend loves you, you settle for a teasing huff.
“Not even a day after I was rejected by my crush, and you’re asking me out on a date?”
Lyney only smiles wider. “Never let it be said that I’m the kind of person who wastes time.”
“You’re incorrigible,” you tell him, but there’s a grin that’s fighting to make itself seen.
“You love it.”
“Yes,” you say softly, “I do.”
It’s not romantic, the manner in which you love Lyney. But as you watch him fret about you needing to take a shower before you catch a cold, you don’t think it would be too difficult to fee the same way.
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note: the truth is that neuvillette did actually reciprocate your feelings, it’s just that he realized that depriving lyney of the possibility of love feels almost selfish, and he believes that you’d be happier with lyney than with him. he’s immortal and you’re not, which solidified his decision to reject you bc he has years upon years to find love again while lyney only has a few decades with you. basically, he felt bad about stealing lyney’s crush. and yeah, it suddenly raining was a reflection of neuvi’s mood.
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magiccath · 4 months
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The Ring
tenth doctor x f!reader
Summary: In which the only way for you and the Doctor to get out of this one is a fake marriage. But how fake is it really?
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You keeled over, your breath coming out in short pants. You weren't as good at this running thing as the Doctor was. 
Sensing you weren’t behind him, the Doctor turned to check on you. You threw your thumb up, signaling that you were okay. You didn’t like the Doctor worrying about you. 
“I’m sure we’ve lost them for now,” he assured, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. It was a nervous tick that he had.
“What are we going to do?” You asked once you had caught your breath. You allowed your legs to fold underneath you, sitting in the grass. The Doctor crouched down next to you. 
It was supposed to be a nice vacation, a break from the hustle and bustle of time traveling. You had explicitly asked for a relaxing trip, one where you didn’t have to save the world or run for your life. You should have known that was never how it was with the Doctor. 
Everything was fine at first. The alien town the Doctor had selected for your trip was throwing an elaborate festival. You were more than happy to partake in the dancing and sample the foreign foods. What you failed to notice was the ritual behind the festival. The village selected an unmarried woman each year to sacrifice to their gods. In retrospect, it wasn’t the weirdest ritual you had encountered over the years. What made it so uncomfortable was the fact they had selected you. 
“I would rather not be a blood sacrifice,” you admitted, pushing your wayward hair out of your face. 
“I won’t let that happen,” The Doctor said seriously, taking your hand gently. He had the duty of care, something that he didn’t take lightly. 
“I’m not sure how much good we are against a whole village of bloodthirsty aliens,” you laughed, burying your head in your hands. You should have been scared, upset even. Instead, you found the whole thing funny. You supposed that was a side effect of traveling with the Doctor. Everything could always be worse, and everything in front of you could always be funny. You just had to frame it the right way.
“I have an idea,” the Doctor murmured. You looked up at him, confused. He only whispered things when he knew you wouldn’t like them. 
“They only want to sacrifice you because you’re unmarried,” he stated. You stared at him, unsure of the point he was trying to make. 
He groaned, running a hand down his face in frustration. 
“I’m gonna need you to spell this one out for me,” you laughed lightly.
The Doctor swallowed anxiously, his Adam’s apple bobbing aggressively. “We could get married,” he said matter-of-factly, with the same tone he used to ask if you wanted tea or coffee in the morning. 
“What?” you asked, wide-eyed. The Doctor swallowed again, his eyes diverting from yours. 
You loved the Doctor, in every sense of the word. He was your home, your comfort. He was everything and more to you. But he only loved you as a friend, and you were more than willing to accept that love. It was better to love him like this than not at all. 
“They can’t sacrifice you if we get married.” 
“No, I got that part,” you rushed out, waving your hands about anxiously.
“You,” you sighed, pausing before continuing, “marry me?” 
“To save your life, yes,” the Doctor said like it was the simplest thing in the world. He would walk to the ends of the universe for you. He had.
“Can we do that?” you laughed, squeezing your eyes shut. The whole thing felt too good to be true. 
“I can’t think of anyone else I would rather fake-marry,” he smiled, taking your hands in his again. 
You grinned, the smile taking over your whole face. The Doctor loved it when you smiled like that. He loved it even more when he made you smile like that. 
“Let’s get fake married!” you laughed, jumping up from the grass. The Doctor nodded in agreement, standing up next to you. 
“How exactly…” you trailed off. “Are we going to get fake married?” The Doctor had a habit of making plans without a way to execute them. 
It wasn’t like you could just walk into the village church and get married. You certainly couldn’t go back to the TARDIS, or that would have been the plan before suggesting a falsified marriage.
“There was a little cottage on the outskirts of town, we can hope that there’s an inhabitant there who can serve as a witness?” He suggested. 
You couldn’t come up with a better idea so you agreed, following the Doctor as he walked off into the distance. 
You tried not to read too much into the whole marriage thing. The Doctor was doing it to save your life, nothing more. Still, the mere idea of it left your skin tingling and your heart racing. 
You were so lost in thought you hardly noticed the cottage creeping up on you until you were standing on the front steps. 
The Doctor rapped his knuckles against the wood softly before stepping back. You waited in silence for a few moments. You could hear the blood pumping in your ears. What if this didn’t work? 
The door flung open, revealing an old woman. 
“What do you want?” She barked, clearly disturbed by the visit. 
The Doctor cleared his throat, searching for his words. You frowned, he usually didn’t have any trouble talking to strangers. 
“This is a bit of a strange request,” he laughed lightly, his hand drifting towards the back of his neck subconsciously. 
“Spit it out, young man.” 
You bit back a giggle. The Doctor was far from young, even if this face was youthful. 
“We need a witness for our wedding,” he rushed, his words coming out in hurried clusters. 
The woman remained silent for a moment, her eyes darting between the two of you. You could see hundreds of questions forming in her mind before she shook them away. 
“I don’t want to know,” she murmured as she opened the door. 
You exchanged a look of relief with the Time Lord before following her inside. 
She bustled about her cottage, sorting things out while the two of you fiddled anxiously in the corner. 
“Well, let's get on with it,” she finally sighed. 
The Doctor nodded timidly, holding out his hand for you to take. You slipped your hand into his, your fingers interlocking instantaneously. You had held hands hundreds of times, yet it felt different.
With his other hand, the Doctor rifled about in the pockets of his coat. You frowned, wondering what could possibly be in there. Did he really need a jammy dodger from the depths of his pocket right now? Finally, his hand slipped out of the pocket holding two silver rings. 
“Why, on Earth, are you carrying around wedding bands?” you laughed. He only shrugged, handing the simple rings over to the old woman. She examined the objects in her hand wistfully, turning them over in her hand. 
“I can’t say I’m a professional at this,” she warned. It didn’t really matter to either of you.
The Doctor took your other hand in his, standing face-to-face with you. You laughed at the domesticity of it. 
“Do you,” the woman paused, looking at the Doctor. 
“John Smith,” The Doctor smiled. You shook your head at his fake name. You had told him hundreds of times that he should change it. No one was really named John Smith, that's the kind of name you only ever found in books. 
“Alright,” the woman said, not even blinking. “Do you, John Smith, take this woman to love and hold blah, blah, blah?” She finished, looking back to the Doctor. He wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were glued to you, studying every single aspect of your face. He never wanted to forget this moment. From your end of things, you were left with a sickly feeling that you had food on your face. 
“I do,” He smiled brightly. 
“And you?” she turned to you, repeating the process. 
“Absolutely,” you grinned. 
The woman handed you each a ring, which you placed on the other’s hand. You noted the slight shake in the Doctor’s hands as he slipped the silver band onto your finger.
You had always wanted to get married. Sure, you never imagined it like this. Standing in some random cottage in a pair of worn-out jeans exchanging wedding bands in order to save your life was never your plan. Even still, you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“You may kiss the bride,” The old woman chided, looking at you two disapprovingly. You were so busy looking into the Doctor’s eyes that you completely forgot about the whole kissing part of getting married. 
A scarlet flush overtook your face, but the Doctor pretended not to notice. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands gently, angling it upwards towards his. Slowly, he dipped his way down until his lips were inches away from yours. 
You could feel his breath on your mouth, you noted each and every twitch of his lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as he eliminated the gap, his mouth crashing into yours. 
He very well could have given you a chaste kiss, the kind you give your gran on Christmas Eve. Instead, he kissed you like his life depended on it. Like he had been thinking about kissing you for eons. 
His mouth fit against yours perfectly. There was no other way to describe it. 
He pulled away slowly, leaving you stunned and breathless. Your eyes remained closed for a moment, taking it all in. When they finally opened, you saw him. Your Doctor. The impossible, magnificent, loving creature in front of you. It was foolish to claim that such a being was yours alone, but you couldn’t see it any other way. 
“Congratulations,” the old woman smiled, pulling you out of your thoughts. 
“Thank you,” you smiled meekly, pushing your hair out of your face. 
-
You didn’t keep the ring on long. A few days after your wedding it came off with the rest of your jewelry before bed. You just never put it back on. It was a fake wedding after all. 
That didn’t mean that you threw it away though. Quite the opposite. The ring sat on your bedside table, occasionally glimmering in the light. 
Sometimes, you would run your fingers over it before bed. You relished the idea of it all. The memory of his hands holding yours, the feeling of his lips on yours. It haunted you.
The Doctor, however, never took it off. Not after the wedding. Not before bed. Not when he fiddled with the wires under the TARDIS console. 
You noticed this one evening, the dimmed lights of the control room catching on the polished metal. 
“Why do you still wear that?” you asked, gesturing to the Doctor’s left hand. His eyes traveled to the band on his finger that he had been idly spinning. 
“It’s my wedding band,” he shrugged as if it was as simple as that. 
“I’m not sure you can call it that,” you laughed, “I’m not even sure our wedding was legal.” 
“It doesn’t have to be,” he frowned, still looking at the ring. 
“I can take it off if it bothers you,” he suggested. He didn’t want to take it off, not ever. But if you wanted him to, he would. 
“It doesn’t,” you whispered, staring at the space where your own ring used to be. The feeling of his lips came back to you, and you had to push it to the side. 
“Did it mean nothing to you?” He asked, his voice hardly above a whisper. If you hadn’t been listening you might have missed it. 
“Not at all,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes. 
“You don’t wear yours,” he commented, taking your left hand in his. You stared at your interlocked hands, not trusting yourself to meet his eye. 
“You married me to save my life,” you stated. 
“And?” 
“It was a fake marriage.” 
“Not to me,” he whispered, running his thumb over the back of your hand. Your eyes drifted up to his face. He was looking at your hand with a pained expression. For the first time, it occurred to you that perhaps the absence of your ring was upsetting to him. For so long, you had assumed that he just wanted to forget the whole thing. 
“I love you,” he whispered, “I always wanted you to be my wife.” 
You didn’t know what to say. For a minute, you hardly believed the words coming from his mouth. 
“I always wanted you to be my husband,” you whispered, leaning in towards him. You paused, your breath bouncing off of his lips. It reminded you of your first kiss, the familiarity of it shocking. 
You learned in and kissed him gently, a tender kiss to test the waters. You pulled away, unsure if this was what he wanted. The Doctor gripped your face, crashing his lips against yours in a much more urgent matter. You smiled against his mouth, melting into the kiss. 
“My wife,” he chuckled between the kisses he planted all over your face. 
“My husband.”
1K notes · View notes
selfishdoll · 6 months
Text
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NOW PLAYING…. LES
⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ I hope nobody catch us | But I kinda hope they catch us, anyway
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SCARE ACTOR! TAKUMA INO
SUMMARY. your lovable boyfriend decided to do a favor for a friend; act in a haunted house. you decide to visit him in support. ━━ ★
CW. ooc ino, first & foremost the haunted house is an adult one meaning no children would be walking around, semi-public sex (it’s in a room but..), mask kink, slight degradation & praise, pet names, costume sex (you both are in costume), you lowkey being a bad influence <3, mentions of fear, unprotected sex, over the cloth sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, etc. ━━ ★
NOTE. i got this idea randomly & i specified it was an adult only haunted house cause the thought of children being around icked me out. anyway, hope you enjoy <3 also he’s wearing his normal mask & just all black because i’m unoriginal. (does this count as kinktober??). unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.
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You loved fall, from the weather to the scenery; it was your favorite time of year. You also loved Halloween, the perfect excuse to dress up how you wished without the fear of judgement or unnecessary opinions. With each event you went all out, dedicating time to your outfit, hair, and makeup to assure you looked amazing. At least, your lovely boyfriend Takuma Ino thought so. But instead of resting on the edge of your bed; complimenting you with a red tinge to his cheeks, he was off working— as a scare actor.
You chuckled at the idea, not being able to imagine your sweet yet goofy lover scaring adults. He just wasn’t that scary. He was far too cute. But still, you supported him like the wonderful girlfriend you were; promising to visit him with your friends. Promising to dress in the Betty Boop costume he had picked out a while ago. The red tube dress fitted your curves perfectly, heart gaterbelt wrapped around your chubby thigh. You slid some product through your short bohemian styled braids, smiling to yourself in the mirror. The smile twitched when a loud honk echoed from outside, you quickly gathering your things and making your way out of your room and home. Your bestfriends clad in their own costumes, cheering the moment you got into the car.
It didn’t take long to drive to the Haunted Attraction, your friend pulling into a spot and turning off the car; you all leaving it soon after. You glanced around the broad area, spotting many adults clad in their own scary or not-so scary costumes, smiling to yourself. Yep, this was definitely your favorite time of year.
Locking arms with your closest friend, your small group approached the entrance of the attraction, taking in the decor, wandering scare actors, and the many signs explicitly stating anyone under twenty-one was not allowed. Which scared you a little, what exactly were they showing that they didn’t want to show kids? Though, you didn’t let that thought consume you, deciding it was fine. That was the whole point of Halloween; getting scared and laughing about it later.
Besides, it couldn’t be too bad, right?
Wrong. You were definitely wrong. Your group was only twenty minutes into the attraction, moving between the many buildings and rooms; letting loose blood curdling screams with each new event. From being chased by a person with an actual chainsaw, to having a thick liquid that looked a little to like blood dropped on you— you were lucky you hadn’t peed your pants yet. Your little heart simply couldn’t take it.
With a soft huff you aggressively wiped the questionable liquid off you, glancing up to chuckle at your friend who was worse off than you. Despite the fear, you were enjoying yourself. Your nearly forgot why you came here in the first place. Until, you friend reminded you.
“We haven’t seen Takuma yet, do you know which one he’s in?” She asked, blinking over at you. You thought her question over for a moment before shaking your head with a small smile, “He refused to tell me.”
“Probably wanted to surprise you.”
“Probably.” You laughed softly, rising from your previous seat on a random bench, tossing the soiled cloth in the trash can nearby. You looked yourself over, adjusting your dress and garterbelt to assure you looked presentable. You had a feeling you would be seeing Ino soon, and you wanted to look your best infront of him.
Even if he didn’t care what you looked like half the time.
“Ready for round two?” You spook cheekily, giggling as your friend let out an exasperated sigh but allowing you lead her towards the next attraction. Your group started out down a dark hallway, chains hanging down from the ceiling and brushing against your heads. You curled up close to your friend, eyes darting back and forth; searching for something, maybe a scare actor or some other prop. So far, there was nothing.
A shrill went down your spine as something brushed across your leg, hopping close to your friend who teased you lightly. “Something was on my leg!” You whined, attempting to defend your case. You all continued down that dark hallway for a while, each person jumping about; declaring something or someone kept touching them. Soon enough you had reached a room that had a dim light overhead, a black box against the wall, plus handcuffs and chains lining the black walls.
“This one wasn’t so scary..” You mumbled softly, despite still gripping your friend’s shirt in uncertainty. You all continued to look around for a moment, until loud shouts came from down the hall the just came from— you all snapping to see individuals in black clothing, holding far too real looking weapons rushing for you. You screeched softly as they came closer, attempting to move away quickly, only for your friend to move much faster.
Like the lovable traitor she was, she pushed you towards one of them as bait, ignoring your surprised yell. She turned on her heel, rushing out of the room while the other scare actors followed. You felt betrayed, a little scared, and oddly.. comfortable? Seeing as the scare actor had their arms around you and.. were they laughing?
You knew that laugh all too well.
You switched around in their hold, playfully glaring at your lover’s covered face. You reached over, grabbing the edge of his mask and pushing it up to his forehead, his laughter no longer muffled. “Holy shit— I can’t believe she did that!” Ino doubled over into you, body shaking with laughter as you stood and pouted like a petulant child.
“I’m so gonna get her back.” You murmured, feeling him slowly relax, coming to his full height, arms still around your form. “And why didn’t you tell me you were here!?”
Ino gave you a goofy smile, sliding his arms to press his fingers into your hips. “Mostly because they didn’t tell me where I would be until I got here.” He shrugged a little, smile deepening at the little shake of your head. He leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss to the space between your eyes, thumb caressing the fabric of your dress. “Also.. I really like this costume. You look, amazing.” His words came out breathy, pulling back to allow his eyes to trace over your form.
You smiled at his compliment, “Well, you were the one that picked it out.” Ino chuckled at your words, eyelids lowering the moment you leaned over, planting your lips together. Your hands gently grabbed the black longsleeve he wore, sliding up his lanky body until you reached his face. Your fingers curled around his mask, pulling back whilst pulling it down his face. “I like this mask.”
The man squeezed your hips at your words, a small chuckle escaping him. “You do?” Ino questioned coyly, voice now muffled. You nodded at his words, rising up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Mhm..Look so good in it.” Your sweet words flew from your throat softly, hand dragging down his form, feeling the poor man shudder in response. The moment your hand made contact with the waistband of his pants, however; he caught your wrist, eyes boring into your own.
“[Name]..” Ino’s words dragged, clearly attempting to be the responsible one here. As much as he wanted to absolutely ruin you in that beautiful red dress, he was working— plus anyone could walk in right now. He was already pushing it kissing you. “We can.. later.”
The pout you gave only melted his resolve even more, breath hitching as you came close to his covered face. “If we’re quick, it’ll be fine. Besides, this is towards the end of the attraction; no one should be coming here for a minute..” You egged the man on, searching his eyes for a moment. He glanced off in thought, subconsciously brushing your hip with his fingers. You knew he was having an inner battle, and you enjoyed it deeply. Watching him mentally weigh the options, thinking over every possible outcome.
“Ino.. I need you.”
That was enough to convince him, the man pushing his mask just above his lips to crash them against your own. You met the intensity easily, feeling him back you into the long black box behind the two of you, hands gripping your sides tightly. He pulled you close, breaching the space between your thighs to slowly grind into you. Your fingers curled under his mask, tugging at his warm brown tresses, moaning softly as his tongue entered your mouth. Curling around your own, he released a hip to drag his hand up your body, large hand covering your breast, rubbing you through your dress. You breathed into him, pressing up against him.
Ino pulled back, pushing you to sit on the box while his face fell to your neck. “Can’t believe you got horny off me wearing a mask…” The man muttered in disbelief, sucking kisses into your skin while his hand continued. You ground up into him, desperate for more friction, more attention— causing the man to chuckle to himself. “Now you’re ruining my pants, fucking minx.”
“Ino.. God— stop teasin’ me.” You breathed, feeling his other hand withdraw from your hip to go between your thighs, causally rubbing you through your panties. You bucked into his hand, leaning back on your own as your head tilted to the side to give him more access to your neck. You gasped out as his hand entered your panties, long slender fingers parting you to use his middle to rub tight circles on your swelling bud. The man swore softly at the mess covering his fingers, pulling back from your neck.
“I’ll do what I want with you— your needy self is taking me away from my job, after all.” Ino grinned a little at the pathetic whine that escaped you, free hand dropping to your thigh to push you up higher, allowing two fingers to slide into your entrance. Wet sends emitted from between your thighs with each curl and thrust into your pretty pussy, the man watching in awe at the way your eyebrows furrowed close, soft breaths escaping you as your legs threatened to close. Ino was always so lost in your pleasure, dedicating each twitch and moan to memory for days he was away from you. So lost, the thought of someone walking into the room completely fled his mind. He couldn’t care, actually— your effect on him was far more overpowering.
His thumb rose to push and rub against your bud, quickening the pace of his fingers to watch you moan, hips pushing to meet his thrusts. By the way your walls clenched the man knew you were close, grinning down at you as his fingertips pushed against your spongy walls. And just when you felt your peak approach, the man was withdrawing his fingers, shoving the wet digits into your mouth to cover the exasperated whine that escaped you. “Relax, pretty girl— you’ll cum.” Promise hugged his words, free hand delicately undoing his belt, pushing the garment and his boxers down enough that his cock slipped out. The man breathed as he felt your tongue curl around his fingers, sucking, gagging softly when his fingers went just a little too deep.
Once he was satisfied the man pulled his hand away, using your combined saliva and slick to spread along his dick, fisting himself a little. Not even a moment later he was coming close, pushing your panties to the side as the head of his length pressed against your entrance. Ino took over your lips in a deep kiss the moment he pushed into you, knowing just how loud you could get during the stretch. Your thighs shook around his waist, reaching to grab his shirt with one hand, keeping yourself steady with the other. Soon enough he was entirely inside, sucking in a breath from the way your walls clenched around him.
A hand held your lower back, pulling his hips back until just the tip remained inside of you. Ino didn’t wait long to flick them forward, thrusting into you roughly. Your legs tightened around him, pulling back from the kiss to moan as you gripped him even harsher. Your body bounced with each thrust, eyelids growing heavier and heavier as the pleasure slowly took over. You desperately tried to keep your voice down, bottom lip caught between your teeth, pleasure filled sounds muffled as best as they could. But Ino refused to make it easy, rushing into your body as if you two were alone— as if the threat of someone walking in wasn’t looming over your heads.
You whined out as he angled his hips just right, thrusting against that sweet spot inside you that made stars dance behind your eyelids. “Fuck, fuck! Ino—!” Your next words came out a muffled mess on account of palm being pressed against your mouth, Ino hissing at you softly.
“Not so loud baby, your pretty voice is only for me, understand?” He grinned at the way your eyes rolled back with each rock into your body, other hand hitching your leg close as his steady place never faltered. Ino moved his hand to instead push his fingers back into your mouth, hissing at the way you instantly sucked them, tongue curling around them like they were his dick. “So natural for you, isn’t it?” The man teased softly, releasing your thigh to reach between the two of you to rub tight circles onto your clit.
That was enough for you, hips rising up off the black box as you came, squeezing his cock which’s pace never stopped inside you. Fucking you through the high, Ino praised you softly, still rubbing against your clit. The moment the sensitivity hit you were whining against his fingers, pulling back and reaching to his stomach— declaring it was too much. Ino gave you a devious smile, hands falling to your hips, pulling himself out. You were only given a moment to breathe, to think before he was turning you around, pushing you to lean your hands against the box before plunging back inside you.
You cried out, attempted to stand on shaky legs as you leaned over the ruined prop. “Ino, fuckkk..!” Your voice turned into high pitched moans, feeling him rise your dress up a little higher, the sound of skin to skin contact covering the room.
“I know sweet girl, I know— Feels so fucking good for me too.” The masked man cooed, watching you. The way your body shuddered and bounced, the way your walls clenched and sucked him in with each thrust, the way your ass jiggled and clapped each time he moved— it was enough to have his eyes rolling back, pressing his fingers deep into your skin; leaving marks. And the moment you were pushing back against him, he was truly lost, hunching over your body as he groaned heavily into his ear.
“Fu—fuck.. Just, oh fuck — like that, keep fucking back against me.” His thrusts became hurried, wrapping his arms right around your waist as he pounded into you, caring less for how loud the two of you were being. Ino’s cock twitched as he became closer and closer, eyebrows pinched close with his eyes completely closed. Your face turned, catching his lips in a deep kiss, the feathery soft feeling pushing him over the edge; painting your walls white.
The warmth was enough for you, crying out for the last time as you came, walls clenching and milking him dry. The two of you breathed into the other’s mouth, his arms loosening around your form but still holding you snug against him. Moments passed before Ino pulled away, face falling into your neck to continue to catch his breath.
Just when you opened your mouth to speak, a soft, scratchy hello entered the room. Ino scrambled to grab the walkie-talkie from his back pocket, bringing it to his lips, “He—Hello?”
“Where’d you go? We chased those girls for a while and we’re on our way back.”
“I was.. uh— Nothing! Just had to..” His eyes darted to your own for a moment, attempting to ignore the little simper covering your features. “Do something important really quickly. I’ll meet you guys in a minute.” Ino sighed as he turned the device off, slowly pulling out of you.
“Is my name, something important?”
Ino gave a playfully smile, helping to fix your attire and pulling you close for a kiss. “Meet me in the house of mirrors in twenty minutes.”
“Deal.”
516 notes · View notes
rosepetalsinwinter · 6 months
Text
Five Years That Felt Like a Millenium — Bucky Barnes
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Pairing: tfatws!bucky x reader
Word count: 9,554
Summary: It’s been five years since Thanos snapped his fingers. Five years spent all alone. Now Sam is back and he has a new friend. Will Bucky be the one to uncover the secrets behind the bruises lining her body?
Warnings: illusions and mention of violence, abuse, manipulation, and cheating. Nothing explicit. Protective!bucky.
Note: It's been a while since I've posted. Here's a little slice to get you going before I continue with "Meant to Be." Hope you enjoy! 💜
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Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi
Main Masterlist │Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3
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Happy reading!!
"Sammy!" A figure barrelled into Sam Wilson, almost making the five-foot-ten man topple over.
The girl's arms wrapped tightly around his bulky frame, hanging on for dear life. Her tears soaked his shirt, and her nails dug into his biceps almost painfully, but he said nothing. He only hugged her back with as much vigour and passion, letting his salty tears mix with hers.
Although no time had passed for Sam, years had passed for the girl—five to be exact—and he could feel all her emotions pouring out of her like a dam broken loose.
"Sammy!" she sobbed while her body shook violently. "You're back!"
"I've been back." Sam stroked a hand over the girl's hair, offering her comfort. "I've been here. Where were you?"
The first thing Sam did after he was blipped back to life was to call his sister, Sarah. Only to be told that five years had come and gone. His nephews, who were babies when he left, were now little men. The second thing Sam did was ask about Baby Girl.
He remembered when he first met her. Her family moved to the bayou when she was just five; Sam was fifteen. When her parents died, Sam's family took her in as their own, giving her the same amount of love they gave their other two kids.
So he was surprised, then, to find that Sarah hadn't heard from her in almost two years. Sam, himself, had no luck in locating her until recently. It took him eight months, but he finally found her. She had moved to New York and cut all ties with previous friends and family.
Sam wanted to ask why. Why leave Sarah and the boys? Why leave the only home she ever knew? His questions could wait, though. Now that she was here, he wouldn't ever let her go.
"Hey, Baby Girl," Sam shushed her when she sobbed louder, "I'm here. I'm not leaving again. Promise."
So fascinated by how she had aged from an awkward teen on the precipice of adulthood into a beautiful young woman, Sam did not notice the bruises lining her sides and underneath her clothes—or the circles under her eyes—from almost two years of interrupted sleep. Or the absence of light in her usually glowing irises.
When she let her entire weight fall on Sam and sobbed as she had when her parents died, he did not question it, only held on tighter and carried her towards the house.
"I've got you now, Baby Girl. Everything is gonna be just fine."
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While he did not explicitly say anything, Bucky Barnes found the Wilson Family Residence quite endearing. His house in the thirties had been small, and even his current apartment in Brooklyn was compact—which he liked—but there was something so serene about the land surrounding the Wilson residence, so very peaceful.
After ninety years of constant fights, one after the other, all Bucky really wanted was some peace and quiet. And now, he could easily find it after absolving himself of most of the guilt he was carrying.
It wasn't easy, but Bucky told Yori the truth about his son's death and since then, had managed to cross a few more names off his list of amends. A weight lifted off Bucky's shoulders as everything began to make sense.
The Flag Smasher's fiasco was over with, and while the Powerbroker was still at large, there was no immediate threat. Bucky Barnes could rest for now before trouble found him again—as trouble often did. Sam had asked Bucky to stay over for the long weekend, and Bucky had happily obliged.
"It'll be good for you. Get away from that city life."
Bucky agreed. If all went well, he might end up buying his own house. He had a little... calm in Wakanda, and he missed the solidarity.
The axe was steadfast in his hands as he brought it down towards his target, and the sturdy stump was no match for the combined strength of both, the sharp tool, and Bucky's enhanced strength. In one meagre swing, half the stump broke off and landed on the ground with a muffled thump.
Bucky wiped the sweat off his brow with his right arm. It was the middle of June, and while the days were sweltering hot and sticky, the nights could get cold in comparison. Sam had tasked Bucky to get the logs for the fire, seeing as he was the most efficient.
Bucky continued with his work until he got a steady rhythm, stopping periodically to sip his still cold beer. It was then that his enhanced hearing picked up on the strangest sound. He perched the axe on his left shoulder and looked towards the house where Sam Wilson seemed to be consoling a crying girl.
"Huh." Bucky didn't find the exchange as odd as he should have. Everyone around the bayou was always coming to Sam for something. Whether it was a favour, or a shoulder to cry on. Bucky thought she must be someone special if he was hugging her like that.
When Sam took the girl into the house, Bucky shook his head and finished the last of his beer. He continued chopping more wood until the sun began to set, which is when he deposited the axe back into the shed and made his way inside to crash on the couch. Tomorrow would be a long day, what with the bonfire Sam was hosting, and all. Bucky fell to a dreamless sleep the second his head touched the pillow.
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He was a light sleeper. So Bucky immediately woke up when he heard someone coming down the stairs. It took him a second to become aware of his surroundings, as it always did. He was in Louisiana, crashing on Sam's couch for the weekend.
Bucky turned his head to the left to see who it was. Probably the boys; they were early risers and loved pestering Bucky about his metal arm—not that he minded. He found their interest refreshing and loved putting a smile on their faces. He was surprised, then, to find a girl instead. The same one from yesterday.
Huh. The girl looked a mess, with only half her hair pulled back into a makeshift ponytail and black makeup smudged under her eyes. Her pants were unbuttoned, hanging precariously from her hips, and her jacket was falling off her shoulders, a few sizes too big. She was holding a pair of shoes in one hand, her phone and shirt in the other. She was also balancing a purse in the crook of her elbow.
It was the shirt that did it. Because, while the girl's own blouse was in her hands, she was wearing Sam's grey-green T-shirt. Bucky knew because that's what Sam was wearing yesterday. She was someone special then if she was wearing his clothes.
Bucky smirked. He was very aware of what the girl had been doing. He, himself, had been on both ends of the situation before. Though it was very long ago, he still remembered the embarrassment of being caught leaving a girl's room in the early hours of the morning.
The girl screamed when she saw Bucky, not expecting anyone to be up, much less lying on the couch and watching her horrible attempt at sneaking out. "Oh, God!" Her phone slipped from her grasp and landed on the floor with a loud clatter.
There was a moment of silence where the two merely stared at each other. Bucky, with poorly concealed amusement, and the girl, with mild horror. She moved first, crouching down to pick up her cracked phone.
"Does it still work?" Bucky's voice was raspy from disuse. When tears gathered in the girl's eyes as a reply, Bucky immediately sat up, dropping his amusement in exchange for concern. He knew nothing about her, but it seemed like she cried a lot.
"No," she murmured, though Bucky heard her as if she were beside him. "Oh, God. No, no, no, no, no..."
"Hey, it's alright," Bucky told her as he crouched down to pick up the purse she had thrown in her haste. He hesitated when he saw a shiny ring peeking out from one of the compartments—too fancy and expensive-looking to be something ordinary. He quickly tucked the circle back and ignored it. Had Sam proposed to her? Bucky was offended he hadn't told him. Maybe it was recent. "Is it turning on?"
"Oh God! N-no," the girl stuttered through her tears.
Bucky was convinced that this girl—who cried a lot—only knew how to say "no" and "oh, God."
"I'm sure Sam can get you a new one, no big deal. What's your name?" Bucky offered the girl his right hand, which she promptly ignored.
She shot up on unsteady legs. "I have to go."
Bucky mimicked her. "Okay?" It was turning out to be a very unusual conversation.
"I have to go," she said again, more slowly this time, as if he were a little kid who couldn't understand a word of English.
Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting on his legs before giving the girl her purse back. "Right."
The tally was now up to "no," "oh, God," and "I have to go." At least she wasn't crying anymore. Bucky hastily stepped out of the girl's way when he realized he was blocking the hall that led to the front door.
She moved as if someone lit a fire under her. One second, she was there, and the next, she was out the door with her pants still unbuttoned, her jacket still falling off her shoulder, and her shoes still in her hand.
"Nice to meet you..." Bucky dropped his hand and trailed off when he realized she couldn't hear him anymore.
Huh. Either Bucky still didn't know how to talk to people, or that girl was on something. A lot of youngsters nowadays did drugs for fun. Bucky didn't understand it, nor did he want to. He could just ask Sam about it later.
Bucky stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck. A couch was considerably comfier than the floor but still gave him a stiff back. No matter, a quick run could swiftly solve that problem. Bucky turned on the coffee machine and was biting into an apple when a shirtless Sam came barreling down the stairs.
"You sleep good, man?" Sam asked.
"Yeah," Bucky shrugged, wiping some juice from his chin, "I slept good. Well, as good as I can, considering..."
Sam hummed before opening the fridge and taking a swig of the orange juice. "Nightmare?"
Bucky shook his head. "I don't remember it—Listen, you didn't tell me you had a girl up there."
"A girl?"
"Messy hair, pretty face. Was crying yesterday?"
"Baby Girl? You saw that?" Sam stopped peeling the banana in his hand to look at Bucky.
Bucky merely shrugged and grabbed a mug from the cupboard.
"Sorry I didn't tell you she was over," said Sam, taking a bite of his now-peeled banana. "We were up talking real late. I guess I forgot."
"Yup. Talking," Bucky muttered with a smirk as he poured his coffee. "I bet."
"What?" Sam implored.
"Uh, nothing. Just, the girl seemed nice."
"She is nice," Sam retorted. "You met her?"
Bucky nodded and took a sip of his coffee. Black, just as he preferred it.
"Didn't think she'd be awake," Sam said with a yawn. "She barely slept."
Bucky had to try really hard to keep himself from laughing. "Well, she was."
"She was?" Sam asked suspiciously. "What do you mean she was? Did she go back to bed?"
Bucky shook his head. "She left."
"She left?" Sam scoffed, propping a hand on his hip. He had never looked more like Steve.
"That's what I said," Bucky confirmed, taking another sip. "She's gone."
"Gone?" Sam grumbled. "Bucky, what the hell are you talking about?"
Sam's accusing behaviour was really starting to irk Bucky, making him think the girl's sneaking out was not mutual. Shit.
He laughed uncomfortably and put his mug down on the counter. "Your girl came running down the stairs, half-dressed. She dropped her phone, cracked it, didn't let me help. Then she said she 'had to go' and practically ran out of here, I dunno."
"When?" A vein popped in Sam's forehead as he grabbed a random shirt from the pile of clean laundry near the stairs.
Bucky hastily checked the watch on his right arm. "Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes tops."
That made Sam utter a series of colourful swears as he finished his breakfast and found his wallet.
"Wait, Sam, what's going on?"
Sam didn't answer Bucky, too busy looking for his keys in the wrong place.
"Sam!" Bucky asked louder.
"We talked about this!" Sam scoffed. "I told her to at least stay for the weekend. I can't believe this! We sat down like adults and came to an understanding." He finally found his keys on the key hook.
"Where are you going, Sam?" Bucky countered.
"I'm going to get her," Sam snapped before sighing dramatically and letting his shoulders droop. "Shit, I do not have time for this, Baby Girl."
Bucky moved over the kitchen counter and stood in front of Sam. "What about that meeting you've got?"
"What meeting?" Sam asked.
"That meeting about that thing," supplied Bucky.
"What thing?" Sam grumbled.
"You know what thing," Bucky countered.
"Oh. That. I'm gonna have to reschedule—Man! Where are my shoes?!"
"Why?"
"Why?" Sam echoed. "What's with all the questions, Buck? Because I have to get Baby Girl before she skips town and disappears on me again."
"Sam."
"I haven't seen her in eight months, man, and she hasn't seen me in five years. I'm not about to let her leave—"
"Sam!" Bucky shouted loud enough for his friend to hear. He grabbed his wallet and his keys and put on his jacket. "You're going to that meeting, Sam."
"Like hell I am," Sam retorted passionately.
"I'll go pick up your Baby Girl," Bucky said after downing the rest of his coffee. "You, go to your meeting."
Sam stopped for a moment and seriously considered Bucky's proposal. It was an important meeting. "She'll probably be at the taxi stand," he finally relented. "You know the one?"
Bucky nodded, tying up his shoelaces. "Yeah, I know the one."
"Buck?" Sam called when Bucky was stepping out the door. "You better bring her back, or else I'm gonna light a fire under your ass."
Bucky chuckled, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. "Understood, Sam."
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The taxi stand was abandoned. Really, what did the girl expect so early in the morning? It was a long weekend, and the residents of Delacroix rarely needed a commute into the city on an ordinary Friday. She was arguing with the lone taxi driver, pleading with him, really, to take her to the nearest airport. But the man kept denying her. He had been up all night and insisted on napping, telling her to wait another twenty minutes.
She didn't have twenty minutes, damn it. If anything, she needed more time. Time she didn't have.
Her phone could be blowing up right now, and she wouldn't know it. She wouldn't know the consequences of her actions until she bought a new phone. But maybe—just maybe, a voice inside her reasoned—Quentin would be too busy with his work retreat to notice her absence.
The girl tried getting the driver's attention again, who shot her the most hateful look she had ever received before starting his cab and driving away. "Hey! Wait!" she called out, but he had already turned the corner.
A laugh made her spin around. It was the man from this morning, the one on Sam's couch. He stood before her with his arms crossed, a big smile overtaking his face.
"You must not be from the city," he mused, "if you're that bad at hailing a cab."
Bucky had no trouble locating the girl, what with her being the only person in a one-mile radius demanding to be taken to the nearest airport. Her feeble attempts amused him, and frankly, Bucky was having trouble believing she was Sam's girl. He didn't think Sam would've gone for someone as... difficult as her. But hey, it was Sam wanting to spend the rest of his life with her, not Bucky.
Bucky surveyed the girl from head to toe. Her hair was settled, her pants buttoned, and most of her composure seemed to have returned. However, she had gone pale once he revealed himself, her eyes wide with guilt. She was caught red-handed; now, he would be the one to deliver her to Sam.
Bucky pointed at her with his left arm. "Sam wants you home."
He was surprised to see that when she looked down at the shiny metal, recognition flared through her eyes rather than shock or disgust. Good, he thought. She knows who I am.
"No, thank you," she managed to squeak out, and Bucky was pleased to know that the girl's vocabulary extended past the three phrases he had come to know her for.
"You seem smart," he told her when he saw her looking behind him, "but not that smart."
"Yeah?" she challenged, gaining a rare bit of courage. "What makes you say that?"
"You know who I am and what I'm capable of. Smart. You think you can run from me. Not smart."
"Is that right?" she asked. Bucky nodded, and the girl took a deep breath. "I must not be too smart then."
He raised a brow in challenge, wondering where she would go from there.
Suddenly, the girl threw her arms above her head and waved them with abandon. "Mr. Thurow!" she shouted, running past Bucky. "Mr. Thurow!"
Bucky slowly walked towards the girl, unhurried in his steps. He wanted to know what she would do.
"Mr. Thurow!" the girl panted. "I need your help."
"Jesus Christ!" Mr. Thurow bellowed. "As I live and breathe! Is that you, Baby Girl?" He was a stocky man with a kind smile and welcoming eyes.
"Yes, Mr. Thurow," the girl began confidently, "it is. I need your help, please. This man," she pointed behind her at Bucky, "is—"
"Carlos!" Bucky interjected with a smile. "How are you?"
"Sergeant Barnes! Back again already?" Carlos turned his attention away from the girl.
Bucky watched with amusement as the girl's face scrunched with confusion. Her lips parted slightly, and she blinked rapidly. "What can I say, Carlos? I was missing your potato salad."
"Hell yeah, you were," Carlos guffawed.
The girl stood there dumbfounded as the two men embraced each other.
"You know, it was my great nan's recipe?" Carlos asked. "Been in the family for generations."
"I didn't know that. You bringing it tonight?"
"For the bonfire?" Carlos confirmed. "You bet I am."
"Well," Bucky gestured to the girl, "I was just taking Baby Girl here back home. She got a little lost, and Sam was starting to worry." Bucky made sure to make himself sound condescending on purpose.
He heard her scoff. "I was not lost."
"Well, you get her home safe, then. Understood, Barnes? I want to see both of you tonight." Carlos mockingly glared at the girl and winked at Bucky before departing.
"See you, Carlos!" Bucky called out to his retreating figure. "Well?" he questioned, turning his attention to the girl after a moment of silence. "Are you gonna run and embarrass yourself again, or are you gonna come with me?"
"I am not going anywhere with you!" the girl scoffed.
"I will take you kicking and screaming if I have to," Bucky warned.
The girl took a step back hastily, believing his threat. "You're a heathen."
Well, Bucky shrugged. He had been called worse. "Sam threatened me with fire, and that's not how I'd like to leave this world if it's all the same to you."
The girl seemed to consider his words for a moment. "Fire is a painful way to go," she finally mused.
"It is," Bucky agreed.
"I don't like you," she told him bluntly.
"Okay." A lot of people didn't like Bucky. One more wouldn't hurt.
"But no one deserves to die like that."
It seemed the spawn of Satan had a heart.
"Does seem excessive," said Bucky.
The girl paused again. "If I run, you'll catch me." It wasn't a question.
"Always," Bucky promised, and the girl must have believed him because her shoulders deflated, and she hung her head in submission.
"Doesn't seem like I have a choice," she whispered, though Bucky heard her all the same.
"You don't."
"Okay," she relented.
"Okay. Let's go." Bucky led her toward where he parked, and the girl followed silently.
Good, she isn't being insufferable any longer, Bucky thought. Though, luck must not have been on his side that day because not a second later, once his bike came into view, the girl started complaining.
"No. I'm not sitting on that death trap."
Bucky turned to her with an annoyed groan. "Really?"
"I hate bikes!" she told him.
"What? You rather walk?" Bucky crossed his arms.
"Yes, please," the girl replied, mimicking his posture. "I walked all the way here, didn't I?"
"Well, too bad!" snapped Bucky. "We're taking the bike." He grabbed his helmet and handed it to her. He groaned again when she didn't take it and only looked at him like she'd never seen a helmet before. Maybe she hadn't. He wouldn't be surprised. Bucky rolled his eyes and placed the helmet on the girl's head, securing the straps and confirming it fit snugly.
"It's loose," she complained.
"Your head's a lot smaller than mine..." Bucky took his previous statement back. He could definitely see the girl and Sam together. Both of them were insufferable shitheads and obviously perfect for each other.
"Sit," he gestured to the bike. And when the girl turned to him with the same blank look in her eyes, Bucky merely huffed in annoyance. He picked her up and deposited her on the seat as if she weighed nothing. And she didn't. He ignored her shouts of protest and sat in front of her.
"Where's your helmet?" She sounded worried for him.
Bucky laughed. "I don't need one."
"Yes, you do," she chastised him. "You could die."
"I'm a super soldier," Bucky said as an answer.
"Even super soldiers die," the girl retorted.
"I won't die," Bucky responded blandly before revving the engine. "Hold on tight."
"I am not touching youuuu..." The girl ended her sentence with a sudden shriek when Bucky unexpectedly released the throttle and speedily drove away. Her arms wrapped around his torso in a vice-like grip, and she hid her face in his jacket. "Oh, God!" she screamed. "Oh, my God!"
She took her flailing legs and tried wrapping them around Bucky's hips, which made him laugh in surprise. She was holding onto him like a koala bear, all while screaming bloody murder in his ears. Her nails dug sharply into his chest, but he ignored the sting. He couldn't wait to see her face once they stopped.
And eventually, they did. Bucky parked his bike in the back and told the girl to get off, which, of course, she didn't do. He got up anyway, taking her with him, though she didn't let him go once he was standing.
Bucky tapped on the hand around his shoulder. "You can let go now. It's safe."
The girl obediently unwrapped herself from his body, falling indiligently to the ground.
"See?" Bucky smirked. "We didn't die."
"Oh my God," she groaned, shaking on the ground. "I can't feel my legs."
Bucky laughed, extending his metal arm towards her, which she took without complaint. "Let's try again," he suggested once she was steady on her feet. "I'm Bucky."
The girl told him her name, and he repeated it with a smile. "I still don't like you," she said.
"The feeling's mutual, doll." And if she blushed at the pet name? Well, Bucky simply chose to ignore it.
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He was on his third beer, a shame, really, since he couldn't feel it. But Bucky had developed a liking for the taste. It reminded him of better times. Before the war, and before his life completely changed.
Sam plopped down on the chair next to Bucky, a happy but tired smile on his face. Bucky turned to Sam and took a s'more from his outstretched hand, biting into the gooey center with a groan. "Man, this is good. I can't remember the last time I had one of these."
"Probably before Christopher Columbus discovered America."
"That's not funny, Sam," Bucky frowned. "Besides, everyone knows the Clovis people got here first, twenty thousand years ago."
"I didn't know that!"
"Because you're stupid," Bucky retorted.
"Whatever," scoffed Sam. He slid down in his chair and muttered "nerd" under his breath.
Bucky was preparing a retort when something caught his eye. The girl was playing with AJ and Cass, trying to catch them as they ran around the fire. Bucky cracked his knuckles and prepared to confront Sam. "You're really mean, you know that?
"Why? Because I called you a nerd?" Sam scoffed. "Well, it's true."
Bucky shook his head and levelled Sam with a glare. "Because you didn't tell me you're getting married."
A long silence followed. "Who's getting married?"
"You are!" Bucky exclaimed. "I didn't even know you had a girl."
"Because I don't!" Sam straightened. "And I'm not getting married."
"But—" Bucky was at a loss for words, then a thought struck him. "Holy shit, Sam! Don't tell me you—" Bucky leaned forward, lowering his voice considerably. "You slept with a married woman!"
Sam's face screwed up. "What the fuck are you talking about? I didn't sleep with anyone!"
Bucky was stunned, realizing a moment too late that he had completely misread the situation.
"Start from the beginning," Sam urged. And so Bucky told him what happened that morning, how the girl came down half-dressed and wearing his shirt. Bucky thought she was a one-night stand until he saw the ring in her purse, and Sam brought her back to his house.
"So, she's not your fiancé?"
"No! She's like a sister."
"But you call her Baby Girl!"
Sam rubbed his temples. "Everyone calls her that. Listen," he sighed, "maybe I should've introduced the two of you before, but I was overwhelmed by seeing her after so long. Besides, I didn't think you would start jumping to conclusions!"
Bucky rubbed his neck in embarrassment. Perhaps he was too quick to assume the girl was Sam's significant other. But if she wasn't involved with Sam, then who exactly was she?
The girl was sitting across from Bucky and Sam on the other side of the fire pit, nibbling on a s'more. The two men watched her as they talked.
"Her family lived in the plot behind ours. They were good people."
"Were?" Bucky questioned, feeling like there was more to the story.
Sam seemed to dissociate for a moment as if he were somewhere else. "Eleven years ago, my dad woke me up in the middle of the night and told me to run to town and wake as many folks as possible. There was a fire down the street, and the trucks had broken down on the highway."
Bucky tensed, hating the direction the story was taking.
"The smoke was so thick I was choking on it from a block away. Over half the house was up in flames by the time I got back. Three men went in and came right out not a second later. Folks were throwing bucketfuls of water to try and contain it, but I remember thinking that was useless. It's like the flames had a mind of their own."
It was then that Bucky accidentally made eye contact with the girl. She frowned at the intense look on his face, jerking her head as if to ask, "What?"
"What happened next?" Bucky asked without removing his gaze.
"I went towards the back, where the fire wasn't as strong. The upstairs window was wide open, and I found Baby Girl lying on the ground with twisted legs and blood oozing from her head." Sam scoffed a laugh, though there was no humour behind it.
Bucky's jaw dropped. "She jumped?"
Sam shook his head. "We found out later that her brother pushed her. My entire family was at the hospital when we broke the news that she was the only survivor."
"Shit." Baby Girl was glaring daggers at Bucky now, though he couldn't take her seriously. Melted chocolate dripped down her chin, and her hair was mussed from the wind. Bucky imagined her eleven years younger, wide-eyed and trembling as her life crumbled around her. He recalled her comment from that morning. "Fire is a painful way to go." "No one deserves to die like that." He looked away.
"She's acting like you're keeping her hostage," Bucky remarked.
"I might as well be," Sam grumbled. "She's dying to go back to New York, and she won't give me a proper reason why."
When Bucky looked back at the girl, she was chatting with Carlos Thurow, seemingly pleading with him. She waved her broken phone, and Bucky could see the cracks on the screen glinting from where he sat. Baby Girl slumped her shoulders in defeat when Carlos took his own phone out to show it had died.
Bucky felt a jolt in his chest as he watched the girl run her hands through her hair in frustration. Something was wrong.
Sam whistled beside him, waving Baby Girl over. The effect was immediate. Baby girl plastered on a shoddy smile, exaggerating a laugh as she waved back and made her way to them.
"You seem happy," Sam observed as the girl took the empty chair beside Bucky.
Bucky looked at Sam to see if he was joking. Sam was no spy, but didn't one have to be blind to not see how miserable Baby Girl looked under her fake smile?
"The party's very fun," Baby Girl answered. "It's—" guilt flashed across her features. "It's nice to see everyone after so long."
"Could've been sooner," Sam muttered.
"I told you I was busy!" she exclaimed. "I didn't have time to leave the city."
"But you won't tell me why," Sam countered. The fight seemed to leave his body, and he sighed. "I didn't call you over to argue with you. I won't bring it up again."
Baby Girl turned her nose to the sky in a way that made Bucky laugh. "You better not." And the conversation flowed smoothly from there.
Bucky offered her a beer, which she accepted with a smile, and the three laughed and joked about until tears ran unbidden down their cheeks. However, despite the mirth dancing in the air, Bucky could not ignore the lingering sadness in her eyes.
"You won't believe what this man asked me before," Sam guffawed, pointing accusingly at Bucky. "He asked if we were engaged!"
Laughter burst forth from mirth-kissed lips. "That's disgusting!" she managed between giggles. "What made you think that?"
Bucky felt flushed under her attention. "You were wearing Sam's clothes that morning," he explained sheepishly. "And I saw a ring in your purse."
Her face made a radical transformation. One moment, she was smiling in a way that made Bucky's heart flutter—the next moment, all pleasure seemed to drain away from her body, leaving her looking gaunt and haggard. Sam was too busy laughing at his untied shoelaces to notice the change in atmosphere, but Bucky felt the full force of it slam against his chest.
"I don't have a ring."
"But I—"
"No!" Her words seemed laced with desperation. Her sober eyes flicked toward Sam. "There was no ring," she stressed.
Bucky could see the hopelessness in her eyes. "Right," he muttered. "I must have been mistaken."
Sam, who had overcome his slight scramble with his shoelaces, sat upright. Inebriation laced his every move. "Right. But that made me think."
"That's never a good thing," Bucky interjected, trying to ease the lingering tension.
"Are you dating anyone? Sarah said she didn't know, but you can always tell me. Huh?" Sam teased. "Tell me. Who's the unfortunate bastard?"
Baby Girl's lips were a thin line, and Bucky anticipated the lie before she could open her mouth. "It's nothing like that. I'm not dating anyone." She finished the rest of her drink and immediately grabbed another.
"You can't lie to me," Sam wiggled his finger. "Come on, fess up. Whoever he is, he can't be worse than Beck."
Baby Girl froze, and Bucky's curiosity was piqued too much to ignore. "Beck?"
"Quentin Beck. Biggest asshole on the planet," Sam explained. "Beck and Baby Girl dated on and off in college. I would catch the bastard every other week with a different woman."
Bucky scrutinized the girl for a reaction, but she seemed to be holding her breath.
Sam began to pout like a child. "He always managed to win her over. At least I can die easy knowing they broke up before half the world blipped."
"He's not like that anymore," Baby Girl whispered to herself. Sam was too far to hear her, but Bucky had no such problem. "He's changed." She wrapped her arms around her body. "He's not like that anymore."
Bucky took in her dark under-eyes and trembling frame, her body sickly from stress. He believed her. Beck wasn't like that anymore. Perhaps he had moved on from his days of serial cheating and picked up a different hobby. Beck probably wasn't like that anymore, but he wasn't any better either.
The former spy suspected that Baby Girl was still involved with Beck. He observed her closely. Her eyes swirled with guilt, and her shoulders drooped in alarm. There was more to the story, but before Bucky could voice a question, Baby Girl stumbled onto unsteady feet. She swayed back and forth, betraying her inebriation, and Bucky reached over to keep her from falling.
Baby Girl pushed his hands away. "I'm tired," she croaked. "I'm going to bed." And she staggered away, bumping into people as she disappeared into the house.
Bucky relaxed back in his seat with a tired sigh. On his left, Sam was passed out over the arm of his chair, mouth open in a loud snore. Bucky craned his neck back and stared openly at the night sky. Stars twinkled brighter here than they did in the city. Everything was more serene and calm. However, since Baby Girl arrived, Bucky couldn't help but sense a slight shift in the air, as if the wind knew her secrets and was trying to warn them. One thing was made clear. It wouldn't be pretty.
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It felt oddly like déjà vu. A light clambering of feet roused Bucky from his half-sleep, and as always, it took a second for him to make sense of his surroundings. He was on Sam's couch.
The steps were hesitant and controlled—so not AJ and Cass. Excitement and a sugar overload had kept them up late, and they wouldn't wake until a few hours later. Bucky was proven right when a lone woman descended the steps instead of two boys.
She looked a lot better than the last time he had seen her. Freshly showered and reasonably presentable in her own clothes this time—not Sam's. She hadn't seen him yet, so Bucky took the opportunity to observe her a moment longer. Her under-eye area was still dark, though not as sunken as before, and she carried an air of determination around her.
"Good morning," Bucky broke the silence.
Baby Girl shrieked, seemingly slipping over nothing. She tumbled backward, falling in an indelicate heap onto an armchair. "God above!"
Her vocabulary was steadily expanding.
Bucky sat up, regarding her with a guilty expression. "Sorry."
"I forgot you were still here," she mumbled sheepishly, straightening herself into a more respectable position.
There was a moment of awkward silence where neither acknowledged the other.
"I was wondering..." the girl started.
"Yeah?"
"Could I borrow some money? I didn't bring enough with me from New York."
"Uh, sure," Bucky replied, grabbing his wallet from between the couch cushions. "How much do you need?"
Baby Girl looked down at her hands, tracing lazy lines on her palm. "One grand?" she grimaced.
Bucky looked at her with wide eyes. "What do you need a thousand dollars for?"
"I can make do with less!" she rushed to explain. "I can try stretching an eight hundred," she murmured. "But a new phone would be too expensive, and I'm not sure I can find a cheap last-minute flight."
"Excuse me?" Bucky exclaimed. He was fully awake now, leaning forward to hear her better. "What was that about a phone and a flight?"
Her guilty eyes met his confused ones. "I broke my phone," she explained, "so I need a new one. I also need to get back home, so I need to buy a plane ticket."
Bucky eyed her skeptically. "I thought you were staying."
"I changed my mind," she dismissed with a shaky wave. "I already went over it with Sam."
Bucky knew for a fact she was lying. She wouldn't even meet her eyes. "Is that what he would say if I asked him?"
"Of course!" she proclaimed. But Bucky could hear the hesitance.
"Okay. I'll go ask Sam." Bucky made to get up, but as predicted, the girl stopped him.
"Wait! Don't!"
Bucky sat back down with a satisfied smirk. "You're a sneaky little thing."
"Don't tell Sam," Baby Girl pleaded. "I'm sorry I lied. I didn't have another choice. He locked my credit card. Otherwise, I wouldn't be asking you for this favour."
"Hmm," Bucky hummed, crossing his arms and getting comfortable. "I'd be willing to help you—Only..." Bucky stressed when she tried to interrupt. "If you answer a few questions first."
Baby Girl mimicked Bucky's posture with a frown. "That hardly seems fair."
"I can always call Sam."
"Fucking fine," Baby Girl grumbled.
Satisfied by the flow of things, Bucky started his interrogation. "Why are you in such a rush to go back home?" Bucky asked, deciding to start small. He could tell Baby Girl was thinking hard about her answer, trying not to give too much away. She squinted her eyes as if it were putting strain on her. He decided she would make a horrible spy.
"I left in a hurry. I only planned a day trip. I don't have any clothes or money on me."
Bucky shook his head. "That's not what I asked."
Baby Girl glared at him. "I don't understand the question."
"What's waiting for you in New York? Do you have a job? A prior commitment? A boyfriend?" Bucky stretched that last word, giving the girl a smirk.
"I don't have a boyfriend," she frowned.
"Fiancé, then," Bucky concluded. "I saw that ring in your purse." He suddenly leapt forward, grabbing Baby Girl's left hand and pulling it toward him to inspect.
She initially squeaked a protest but stayed still as he prodded her ring finger with his eyes. "Tan line," he observed, and she snatched her limb back, throwing the most menacing glare she could manage toward him.
"No fiancé," she hissed.
"I don't believe you," Bucky shrugged. "Job, then? What do you do?"
It took too long for her to answer, making it obvious she was concocting a lie in her head. "I work in the... customer field. Where I work with customers."
If Bucky wasn't on the verge of laughter, he might've cringed from the secondhand embarrassment.
"And... books." She was obviously lying. Even she didn't believe what was coming out of her mouth.
"I think my cat might be a better liar than you," He remarked drily.
The girl huffed but stayed silent.
Bucky decided to try a different tactic. "What year is it?"
The girl regarded him strangely. "2024."
"How many sides does an octagon have?"
"Eight."
"What's Sam's last name?"
"Wilson."
"Who was Iron Man?"
"Tony Stark."
"What colour is the sky?"
"Blue."
"Who locked your credit card?"
"Quentin Beck."
Bucky laughed. The girl stared at him, horrified. She gaped at him like a fish, only managing to make senseless sounds. "Y-you—w-what!"
Bucky laughed harder. "I told you that day. You seem smart, but not that smart."
"How dare you!"
"Last question. Does your boyfriend know you're here?" If looks could kill, Bucky would be dead. He raised his arms in surrender. "I won't judge. And I won't tell Sam. I'm just trying to understand the situation so I can help."
Her glare slowly softened to fatigue. "No. He doesn't know."
Bucky bobbed his head. "I figured as much." He grabbed his unlocked phone and tossed it to her, assuming she would catch it. She didn't. The device smacked her in the chest before falling on her lap, which she stared at dumbly.
"Call him," said Bucky, standing up to stretch. "Let him know you're safe. Tell him no one kidnapped you, and he can unlock your card."
She opened her mouth to reply, but Bucky beat her to it. "I can't get you a plane ticket out of here, so this is the next best thing. You want to leave? Tell Sam about Quentin Beck, and he'll let you. He isn't that big of an asshole to keep you hostage here. There's hope for him yet." Bucky stepped out of the living room but turned around and stopped to add one more thing. "Sam's been different since you arrived. He's happier. You're all he talks about to anyone. Do him one last favour; stay the weekend, and don't choose that Quentin Beck guy over him." With that, Bucky strode to the bathroom to freshen up, missing the first teardrop.
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His phone was returned to him an hour or so later, accompanied by an uncomfortable smile and words of gratitude. "I told him I'm safe, and no one kidnapped me."
"Is he mad?" Bucky asked.
"He's a little upset," she confessed. "Promise you won't tell Sam?"
"Only if you promise not to run away." They stared at each other for a long moment, daring the other to disagree.
"Fine," the girl finally conceded. Bucky gave her a stiff nod and turned to leave. "Wait!" she exclaimed urgently. "He's still upset. Just ignore any other messages from him, okay? He should cool down after a while."
Bucky looked into her eyes. She was beautiful and unsuspecting looking. Fiery and transparent. He scrutinized her for deceit and instead found veiled resignation. He agreed and went to the backyard, leaving her in the kitchen.
It was an especially hot day, and there was much to do. Sarah wanted to landscape the back garden, and Bucky had volunteered. He didn't know the first thing about construction, but the boys had recently introduced him to YouTube, a magical place with the answers to all his questions. Bucky began to work, moving piles of dirt, levelling the uneven ground, and placing heavy slabs of concrete to form a pathway from the back porch to the lake.
Hours later, Bucky finished with the last slab of concrete, moving further away to admire his work. There was more to finish, but Sarah would be happy with his progress. Bucky wiped his brow, groaning at the sticky feeling of sweat dripping down his neck.
He grabbed his phone from the table on the porch to check the time, surprised at the number of notifications waiting for him. Bucky was by no means popular. The only person who contacted him somewhat regularly was Sam, but these notifications were all from the same unknown number. Bucky realized with a start that the barrage of missed calls and messages he was being attacked with were probably all from Quentin Beck.
Curiosity grabbed hold of him. He did promise the girl he would ignore any messages from him, but really, this was excessive. What if something was wrong and Beck urgently needed to contact her? He tapped on the message icon without another thought.
Bucky froze when he read the latest message.
You're dead when I find you.
He immediately scrolled to the top, reading the conversation from the beginning to try and gain some context to the threat. The thread started with a long paragraph from the girl detailing her situation, followed immediately with an exhausted apology.
I'm so sorry, please don't be mad. I'll be back as soon as I can.
Where the HELL are you?
Sam was asking questions. I tried to leave, but he got suspicious. I'll be back in a couple of days. I'm sorry.
You shouldn't have fucking seen him in the first place. I warned you.
Sam's career is in my hands. It'll only take one call to ruin him. I fucking warned you to never go near him.
He's trouble. He doesn't care about you like I do. He doesn't love you like I do.
The messages got progressively worse, teetering on the edge of insanity. Promising pain and broken bones, blaming it all on her.
Why do you make me do this?
Typical narcissist behaviour.
You're dead when I find you.
Baby Girl hadn't seen any of the messages after her rushed apology, but Bucky had a feeling she wouldn't be surprised by them either way. He clutched his phone tight, taking deep breaths to calm himself down.
What a bastard. What a self-entitled, psychotic prick. Everything came into clear focus, painting a detailed painting for Bucky to observe. Her behaviour started making sense. The bags under her eyes, the lack of light in her irises, the unworn ring... the secrets.
He decided then that he wouldn't tell her about the messages if she asked. Bucky would wait for the right time tonight to bring up the topic of Quentin Beck as innocently as he could, and offer her his help. She didn't need to know the extent of Beck's threats against her life.
Plan laid out, Bucky made his way inside for a well-deserved glass of cold water when the back door swung open. Baby Girl walked out with two lemonades and a plate of sandwiches balanced between the crook of her elbow. Some lemonade spilled over her hand when she abruptly stopped ahead of him. Bucky took the drinks from her and placed them on the small table.
Baby Girl put the plate of sandwiches next to the drinks and proceeded to lick the spilled lemonade from her hands. Bucky swallowed thickly, feeling flustered at such an innocent act. "You good?"
"Yeah," she replied. "I made us lunch and lemonade. Figured you could do with something cool."
"Yeah," Bucky was suddenly parched. "It's a hot day."
Baby Girl sat down at the table and took a large sip of her drink. "Sarah and Sam went to run some errands in the city. Said they'll be back late."
"What about the boys?" Bucky inquired, sitting down and taking a sip of his own. He groaned as the cool drink washed over him.
"They're having a sleepover at the neighbours." She handed him a sandwich, which he took with a smile.
"So it's just us today," he said, aware that the perfect opportunity for a less-than-pleasant conversation had just presented itself.
"Yup, just us."
An awkward silence fell over them, broken occasionally by the sound of chewing.
"The yard looks nice," Baby Girl blurted.
Bucky turned his neck to observe his handiwork. "Thanks. Still a lot to be done."
"You must be tired."
Bucky shrugged. "Not really. The heat is worse than anything else."
"Is that because of the serum?" she asked, immediately flushing with embarrassment. "Sorry! That's so insensitive of me. And it's none of my business."
"You're good," said Bucky. "I don't mind. Yeah, it's because of the serum. My stamina's through the roof."
"Wow," she admired.
"Could've been real handy with the ladies, back in the forties." Bucky flushed at the silence that followed. "During the war, I mean!" he corrected. "I could've used the stamina during the war."
The girl finished her lemonade in one long sip. "Right, of course."
"For battle. On the battlefield." Bucky finished his own drink, then stuffed another sandwich in his face to keep from further embarrassing himself.
Bucky's phone lit up with a notification, and the girl flicked her eyes toward the screen. "It's my neighbour," he told her. "He's looking after my cat."
Baby Girl visibly deflated. "That's nice," she smiled. "What's its name?"
"Alpine." Bucky decided this was as good a time as any to ask a few questions. "Listen, did you tell Quentin Beck where you are?" Bucky hated the scared look on her face.
"He knows I'm at Sam's," she started slowly.
Bucky took a deep breath and willed his expression to remain neutral. "Does he have an address?"
She shook her head in denial, and only then did Bucky find himself relaxing. He wouldn't need to worry about Beck showing up announced, which gave him more time to come up with a proper plan.
"I'm gonna take a dip," Bucky gestured to the lake. "Wanna join?"
"Maybe later."
Bucky stood up with a shrug. "Suit yourself." And he took his shirt off with one pull.
He felt Baby Girl's stare burning through his skin as he jogged toward the small lake, discarding his pants along the way. He entered the water in a running dive, letting gravity pull him to the bottom before kicking away and breaking the surface with a loud whoop. His body temperature slowly stabilized as he ran laps along the perimeter. He could still feel her stare as he stopped to tread.
"The water's amazing!" he yelled. "Join me!"
She threw her arms in the air. "I don't have a bathing suit."
Bucky floated on his back, arms crossed behind his head. "Who cares?"
After a moment's hesitation, Baby Girl laughed. "You're right. Who cares?" She grabbed the hem of her top and lifted it over her head, revealing a white camisole underneath. She stopped near the edge of the lake, fixing Bucky with a faux glare. "Well, turn around. You're crazy if you think I'm undressing in front of you."
Bucky smirked at her teasing nature and turned away, listening for a splash. After a moment, the water rippled, followed by a shrill scream. "Can I look?"
"Go ahead." Baby Girl laughed when Bucky whipped his head, sending a stream of water flying her way from his hair. "Damn, the water's cold."
"Feels good, though."
"Yeah."
They settled into a comfortable silence, floating on their backs and sneaking glances at each other. Her white camisole had turned see-through, giving Bucky a delicious glimpse of her skin and pale blue bra. He averted his gaze, trying to calm his racing heart.
"I'll miss this when I'm gone," said Baby Girl softly. "The peace and quiet."
"You don't have to leave," Bucky urged. "You could stay."
She turned to face him. "I can't," she replied sadly.
"You're scared for Sam," he observed, remembering the texts. "Why? He's the fucking Falcon. He helped defeat Thanos. Beck is nothing compared to that."
The girl's eyes widened in alarm. "How do you know that?"
Bucky didn't tell her he read the messages. He would've come to the same conclusion sooner or later. He ran his hand through his wet hair. "I used to be a spy." He fixed her with a pointed look. "And you're a horrible liar. Seriously, you are worse than my cat."
She huffed but didn't argue. After a moment of silent contemplation, she settled on her back and regarded him doubtfully. "Quentin has connections with the CIA, FBI, NSA, and Homeland Security. Any government official out there, he's probably on a first-name basis with them." Her face contorted in pain. "He could ruin Sam's life with a single phone call. I swore I would never give him a reason to."
Bucky's jaw clenched tightly. "What's the worst that bastard could do? Sam knows people too."
"Not enough. He could pin a drug charge. It wouldn't even have to stick. The bad press would be enough to ruin Sam's reputation."
"That's illegal," Bucky pointed out dangerously. Quentin Beck was turning out to be worse than Bucky imagined.
"He doesn't care about that when it comes to me," she dismissed. "Quentin can do no wrong when it comes to love."
"That's not love!" Bucky snapped, losing the last of his patience. They were floating dangerously close to one another, elbows brushing.
"Regardless. There's nothing to be done."
"You could stay," Bucky implored. "I'd keep you safe."
They were even closer now, both on their backs, faces turned toward the other, lips dangerously close. For a moment it looked like she might say yes. She opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of a car door slamming shut interrupted her.
"That must be Sam," she said, and the moment was broken.
Bucky moved first, swimming to the deck to grab his discarded pants. "I'll give you some privacy," he said, dragging the fabric up his legs. He left without another word.
Incessant knocking at the front door stopped Bucky in his tracks. Sam always carried a key. Bucky dropped his shirt and went around the house to the front. The car parked in the drive was unfamiliar and out of place. Sleek and shiny and black. Expensive. The man waiting impatiently at the door looked more out of place than the car. Dressed in a gray suit, brown loafers, and black shades, the man looked like he belonged on the cover of a real estate advertisement.
"Can I help you?" Bucky snapped, feeling on edge.
The man lifted his shades to regard Bucky with a look of contempt, eyeing his exposed chest and metal arm with barely concealed disgust. "Yeah, maybe you can. Is this the Wilson residence?"
"Depends on who's asking."
"A friend," the man replied.
"Funny. I didn't know Sam had any friends."
"That's because I'm not Sam's friend," he scorned. "I'm looking for a girl."
Bucky inched closer to him. "I know lots of girls," he quipped.
The man smiled dangerously. "I'm looking for a very specific one. Yay high, unchecked temper, tendency for trouble."
Bucky laughed without humour. "Doesn't narrow much down, buddy. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."
"You must be the Winter Soldier," the man mused.
"I go by James Barnes," Bucky snapped. "You must be Quentin Beck." Bucky had recognized him right away.
Quentin Beck spread his arms in a wide gesture. "The one and only. I suppose she told you about me."
"She didn't have to. I can smell a bastard from a mile away."
Beck clenched his fists, face contorting nastily, and stepped forward. "You little—"
Despite the sweltering heat, Bucky felt a coldness wash over him. His advanced senses picked up on footsteps coming from around the back. His head whipped to the side just as the girl rounded the corner. She wore jeans and nothing else, her white camisole still wet and slightly see-through. Bucky watched with dread as she took in the sight in front of her, blinking confusedly. The colour slowly drained from her flushed cheeks, and she froze as her brain caught up with her eyes.
"Sweetheart?" Beck's demeanour rapidly changed, and he stalked forward with his hands raised non-threateningly. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
Bucky blocked his path with a glare.
When Beck noticed her state of undress, he became angry, clenching his fists at his side. He noted Bucky's bare chest, his low-hanging jeans, and the girl's see-through top. "What the fuck is going on here?" Beck demanded.
When he fixed his icy glare on her, she reanimated, staggering back with a loud gasp, Baby Girl tripped over a rock but continued scooting backwards as she fell over. The raw fear emanating from her was enough to undo Bucky. Bucky shoved Beck as hard as he could—without using his super strength—and slammed him against his car.
"Motherfucker," Beck hissed, clutching his side.
"I suggest you leave before you really piss me off," Bucky threatened, stalking closer.
Beck staggered away, putting his car between them. "Not without my fiancé," he seethed.
"Fiancé, huh?" Bucky turned toward the girl. She was still on the ground, carefully watching the scene with wide eyes. He waited until she looked at him, then gave her a soft smile, silently urging her to trust him. "Are you his fiancé, Baby Girl?"
She jerked her head in denial. "No."
"There you have it. You heard the lady." Bucky's voice lowered dangerously. "Now leave. Before I make you leave."
"She's lying!" Beck screamed. And Bucky got the impression he was used to getting his way. "I gave her a ring."
Bucky had cornered Beck against the hood of his car and was looming dangerously over his crouched figure. "I don't see any ring. Now leave!"
Beck unlocked the car, jerking open the driver's side and inelegantly lumbering in. "This isn't over yet, Winter Soldier," he spat, and with one last seething glare toward the girl, he sped off.
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Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi
Main Masterlist│Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3
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Comments and Reblogs are appreciated!! 💜
@marvelatthetwilight @hallecarey1 @ria132love
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malleusfucker · 1 year
Text
private study session
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i have a shit ton of uni work but is writing smut of this man more important i think so
i live and breathe for asshole malleus y’all don’t even understand that man is a smug bastard
synopsis: your grades have been plummeting. bad. so much so that if you don’t improve, you might have to end up retaking the yearーwhich you definitely don’t want. no matter how hard you study and revise by yourself, nothing seems to stick. that was until you built up the courage to ask your close friend, malleus, if he could tutor you.
warnings: smut/nsfw, degrading, choking, lowkey hate sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mating press, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified
word count: 2.8k
“oh-ho? and what makes you believe that my time will not be wasted?"
“it won’t, i swear! …please, malleus, just this once. i might have to retake the year if i don’t improve.” you shifted your feet nervously, continuing your embarrassing attempt at trying to convince the dragon fae to lend you just a slither of his intelligence. you weren’t one to beg, but at this pointーyou had to. of course, being the only non-magic student to have miraculously enrolled into NRC, it was a given your grades would be subparーbut not to this extent.
"and we certainly don't want that, do we?"
malleus's tone was condescending, apparently relishing the sight of you pleading for his help in front of him. his lips curved into a grin, and he cocked his head to one side. “i mean… that would be unfortunate if you needed to repeat the year. i do enjoy the lessons i have with you, child of man.”
your eyes widened as if he were finally giving in to your wish, like a puppy seeing a treat for the first time. “then? then…!? will you help me, malleus?”
malleus seemed thoughtfully contemplative for a few seconds. you were sure you saw a glimpse of something in his eyes for a single second. something menacing.
“fine. i’ll accept your request, child of man. you’re quite the lucky one, you know? not everyone can say that they’ve had me as their personal tutor.”
personal tutor, huh? it didn’t sound bad when he put it like that.
it was 6 p.m. malleus agreed to assist you back at your own dormーwhich surprised you slightly, but you didn’t mind. if anything, it only meant that evening was about to be spent without any disturbances.
it became clear that malleus was going to spend hours tutoring you like he stated he would. you sat pitifully looking at the pages in front of you as he poured information into your ears that amounted to little more than background noise. he was in the seat next to you. his body, though, was stiff. with one leg over the other and his arms crossed, it felt like being lectured about how dumb you are. 
maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
but it was probably too late to back out of it now.
snap
“are you ignoring me, child of man?”
as you heard his fingers snap at you, you quickly brought your eyes back into focus to see a face brimming with frustration and irritation.
“were you even paying attention to a single word i said?”
malleus was furious. with a tone laced with something much more than frustration, you knew you messed up big. the words that came out of his mouth only made the hairs on your arms prick up, feeling your mouth get dry as he leaned in close to your face, seeing the rage in his expression ever more clearly.
he was close. too close. you were so uneasy that you were certain he would smite you on the spot if you said something stupid.
“yes..! i swear i was malleus!”
you felt his stare burn right through you, feeling as though he’d bite off your head any second. all that you could hope was that if you said “yes” enough, maybe he’d let you off easier.
that wasn’t the case.
“am i boring you? is a human’s time for daydreaming more important than mine?”
you started to shake in your seat, your heart in your throat.
“you have a lot of nerve, child of man. taking my generosity for granted, really, you are bold.”
he drew even nearer until his face was almost brushing yours. all you could do was tremble and pray that he wouldn't actually murder you at this very moment. suddenly feeling paralysed, you couldn't even gather the energy to defend yourself.
he pressed a finger on your foreheadーhardーwatching you practically unravel in front of him.
“what will it take, child of manーfor you to listen? how can we make the time left today not utterly pointless?”
he remained far too close to your face for your liking. whilst your body was about to give way any second, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up for some strange reason. you’ve never seen malleus so close up before, it was almost an honour. you wanted to shake these stupid, borderline dangerous thoughts away, but you almost felt in awe at the anger he was expressing to youーas bad as that was.
“hoh? got nothing to say? heh, it’s almost as if you’re trying to anger me. you’re certainly the first to do such a thing, child of man.”
he moved his finger from off your forehead to your jaw, resting it under your chin as he slowly tilted your head up to look at him. you gave him a glazed-over look. it was as if every single thought in your head suddenly turned off, rendering you speechless and still. feeling his finger touch underneath your chin, you couldn’t help but sweat, your face becoming more flushed by the second.
“hmm, your face is heating up. am i embarrassing you, child of man?”
malleus was. 
but even with all that embarrassment that was thoroughly washing through your entire body, you could sense a faint sensation of excitement starting to bubble. were you the masochistic type? did you actually enjoy getting humiliated by him? perhaps not, but seeing him get so riled up over youーhis face inches away from your ownーhey, maybe dying at the hands of someone like him wouldn’t be…too bad.
though, in the end, you could never hide things from malleus. if he couldn't detect your excitement from your face, something else revealed it for you. the slits in his eyes thinned, he glared at you. he could smell, ever so slightly, a hint of your arousal.
“...my. do you have a death wish?”
as soon as those words left his lipsーyou blinkedーsuddenly finding yourself having been thrown onto your desk, your back slamming onto the hardwood.
you gasped as you abruptly came out of your trance and felt him securely hold your legs as he towered over you. malleus wasted no time in entertaining those lewd thoughts your body was so clearly showingーwith a simple snap of his fingers, your clothes vanished and fell beside you. to say you were shocked to see this sudden change in him would be an understatement. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, with how fast everything was moving, you could say he was eager butーwith that expression…
it looked as if your mere presence disgusted him.
malleus slid his hand up over your neck, wrapping his long fingers around it before slowly squeezing as he spoke.
“heh. child of man, give me one good reason why i shouldn’t kill you right here.”
your body was shaken to its core. that voiceーthat sentence alone made you feel faint. you pathetically flailed your arms around, weakly trying to release the grip he was slowly tightening on your neck. the pressure around your throat distracted you from how vulnerable you looked under him right now. naked and shiveringーmalleus started to grin and leaned close to you, gently planting a kiss on your forehead. it was strange. the kiss felt so soft on you, yet the pain you felt merely inches away couldn’t have been more different.
he laid tiny wet kisses down your forehead and jaw before snatching his other hand and slipping it between your legs, gently teasing your wet folds. something about the contrast between his touch and his kisses made you melt; you felt yourself slump lower and lower onto the desk as you embarrassedly leaked all over it. “...malleus- i’m- i’m sorry-” you wheeze, still trying to release the vicious hold he had on your neck.
his face stayed close to you, and he suddenly licked a long stripe up your neck and jaw. the sudden sensation made you twitch, moaning slightly at how warm and wet his forked tongue felt against your bare flesh.
“it’s all too late to apologise now.”
“tutoring you was an utter waste of time. now, i’d much rather try something else.”
before you could even attempt to reply, he let his hand from your neck free. you gaspedーsuddenly feeling your naked, trembling body be dragged to the edge of the desk. your mind was racing so much that you failed to hear the sound of his belt suddenly slamming against the ground. you stared off at the ceiling, your lip quivering. the whole thing seemed like a dream, albeit a strange one. your rational mind refused to accept the reality of the situationーbut your body...had never felt so hot before. it felt unbearable; you needed to be relieved. and luckily, malleus was there, leaning over with his gaze searing through you evermore.
he forcefully propped your shaking legs up against his waist with one hand, immediately snatching your face to make you look at him. however, for a moment, it looked as if he had forgotten what had led you two to be in such a predicament and simply loomed over you, staring at you. his gaze almost switched to a softer one, feeling the urge to gently caress your cheek. though that was quickly discarded, and immediately that familiar look of disgust soon reappeared on his face.
malleus moved his hips closer to yoursーfinally feeling his hard erection brush against your twitching core; you wincedーwishing you could throw your arms around him and bring him even closer to you.
malleus, however, was not in the mood to be so courteous to you and certainly didn't want to take up any more time than had already been lost.
without any preparation, you suddenly felt malleus drive one of his cocks into you. you screamed out, feeling him sliding and bottoming out of you with just one thrust. swiftly, with three of his fingers then violently thrust into your mouth, you gagged and choked, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks, 
“bite down. good students know not to be noisy.”
you tried to pathetically choke out to malleus that it was too muchーyour body shook and convulsed from the agonising splitting pain of his long, hard cock bullying its way into you, poking and prodding at your cervix. you sank your nails into the desk, biting down hard on his fingers as he pushed and slammed his hips into you, your cries for help becoming louder by the second. within minutes of him thrusting into you, you felt pressure rapidly build in your stomach, causing you to clench and squeeze against him. 
“oh? what’s this? don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?”
you wailed, but his insulting remarks just made you feel worse about your own increasing arousal. still choking on his fingers, you nodded frantically when you then felt sharp cramping throughout your body as if you were about to cum. he swiftly slipped his fingers out while he was still thrusting into you just so he could hear your pitiful cries. 
you felt your body shudder against the desk as a wave of scorching hot pleasure swept over you, pouring and seeping down onto the hardwood under you. you tried to catch your breath, gagging and choking as you already felt so sore and painful from just one orgasm. but it was obvious that malleus wasn't through with you just yet. it was, if anything, just the start.
he gave you time to calm down, your breath slowly easing as you shut your eyes, thinking this torture had reached its end. 
of course, malleus would not let you off that lightly. his rage persisted and seeing you believe that this punishment was over just made him more spiteful.
he leaned in, his breath hot, “i’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself. now put your arms around me.” his tone was once again mocking, but this time it felt more serious, like everything you did would simply enrage him more.
he suddenly forced you into a mating press, your legs wedged up against your chest as you struggled to wrap your trembling arms around his head. you cried out and started to think that your body wouldn’t be able to handle thisーthat he might actually break you.
as he started to softly drive into you, drawing more weak and muffled groans from your lips, your hands connected to the base of his horns, clutching and scraping your nails across them. he started off slow, almost giving a relaxing quality to his thrusts as he softly kissed your forehead and smiled sweetly against your face, much to your surprise. your body relaxed as a result of his sudden shift in attitude, enjoying the fleeting moments of him lovingly moving his hips against yours, which were only going to abruptly come to an end.
your eyes were closed, not being able to see the horrific smile malleus suddenly had across his face. you assumed that the strange sadistic side of him had long since vanished, as evident by your voice becoming moans of pure pleasure rather than of pain. regardless of his disposition, he enjoyed seeing you this way. seeing how you moaned so quietly and softly only made the urge to completely ruin you that much stronger.
“are you enjoying this?”
you slowly opened your eyes, malleus still gently pushing into you as you lazily nodded, whimpering as the pleasure inside you continued to become greater. “mmm…malleus. it feels so good…don’t stop.” 
“heh. so you think you can tell me what to do? your disrespect truly knows no bounds.”
your growing sense of pleasure abruptly gave way to a dreadful fear as he pushed your legs higher onto your chest and over his shoulders, making it clear that he was absolutely certain you couldn't get away. not understanding what he meant, your lip began to quiver, only for him to rid you of your confusion by suddenly thrusting into you aggressively. you screamed out, tears soon welling in your eyes again as he gave you no time to acclimate to the sudden pace. he licked his lips, savouring the view of you struggling and wailing underneath him as he gradually began to envelop your neck with his fingers. he hovered his face close to yours, sticking his long, forked tongue out before sloppily kissing your lips, still continuing his ruthless pace. you groaned under him, feeling yourself beginning to choke from both his tongue and his fingers, which were slowly beginning to squeeze your throat once again.
it was all far too muchーyour vision starting to blur, and all of your senses drowning and bleeding into one another as he kept pounding his thick cock into you, causing you to harshly grip and pull his hair. 
he immediately drew his face back and tutted at you, but seeing the way your eyes began to roll into the back of your head only made him want to quicken his paceーif it was even possible. 
“haha…perfect. so perfect…”
the words coming out of his mouth didn’t make sense. he was praising you yet abusing you with every thrust and squeeze of your body, not even giving you a chance to cry out as your head slowly began to feel faint. all of the pain and pleasure made you lose your mind, feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly as he started to lick and nip at your ears. 
he throbbed and twitched inside of you and felt his own climax begin to rise, eventually making the decision to be generous enough and remove his vice-like grasp from around your neck. you gasped and cried out, finally able to breathe and mewling as a result of his cruel touch. 
“malleus...ーpleaseーit’s too…ーmuch... ’m gonna-” he smiled at your pleas, pressing your legs harder against your chest, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you.
“heh, are you going to cum? haha…then do it. cum for me.”
it seemed as if he had put you under a spell with how immediate and intense your orgasm was, your walls clenching down on his throbbing cock with tears dripping down your chin. you felt the sensation of hot, burning pleasure wrack through your body once again, not even hearing your own screams from how strong it was.
malleus didn't even allow you to come down from your high. instead, he kept pushing to reach his own climax, feeling his body start to shudder and throb as he kissed you. “i’m…close…you’ll allow me to cum inside of you, won’t you? i know you will.” 
you didn’t even care anymoreーyour legs continued to shake and tremble as you feebly nodded with your eyelids flickering. it seemed like malleus would fulfil his word, for a few seconds later, he let out a moan as he unleashed and pumped copious loads of white cum into you, causing you to whimper as you felt him completely fill you up.
his breathing evened almost immediately. wiping the sweat from off your face, he delicately slid his cock out from inside of you to admire his work, gazing at the way your body jerked with his cum spilling and gushing out of your abused hole.
“heh. maybe tutoring you every week won’t be so bad after all.”
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justmystyles · 1 month
Text
Baby-Baby-Baby
read my other work here!
pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader
*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*
word count: 2,993
summary: Harry meets his niece for the first time, the joy and excitement are quickly replaced with a whole new set of feelings when his best friend, Y/N joins him at the hospital.
a/n: throwing my hat in the unclerry ring with this big ball of fluff. i actually just thought of a new series idea that this would have fit so perfectly with, but i'm nowhere near ready to start releasing that, so here's a little bestierry fluff instead!
tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat
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The sound of her phone ringing breaks Y/N from her deep, peaceful slumber. With an annoyed grumble, she blindly slaps her hand around until she finds it and answers it with a grunt. 
“It’s happening Y/N, it’s happening!” 
As she slowly starts to come to, she rubs the sleep from her eyes and sits up. “Harry? Wh-what’s happening?” She responds groggily. 
“Gem! She’s having the baby! She’s at the hospital right now!” He shouts, causing her to furrow her brow and pull the phone away from her ear slightly. 
“Okay, Harry, deep breaths, calm down.” She says trying to talk him down. “Are you going to the hospital?”
“Not yet, mum’s there with her and Michal now. They’re going to let me know when she’s here and then I’m going to go.” 
She could hear the anxiety in his voice, she could see it clearly in her mind, Harry pacing back and forth in his living room, likely with a glass of wine in his hand. “And what are you doing until you get that call?” She says knowingly. 
Harry notices her tone and knows exactly why she’s asking. “You know, just taking it easy.”
“Liar.” 
Harry sighs and rolls his eyes. “Well what do you want me to do? My big sister is having a baby! I’m going to be an uncle!” 
“I’m coming over.” She replies as she slides out of bed and starts grabbing some clothes to change into. 
“You don’t have to…”
“Yes I do,” she interrupts. “If I don’t, I’m just going to get a bunch of stream of consciousness texts and phone calls from you while you sit alone freaking out. I may as well just get them in person.” 
“I don’t need a babysitter.” Harry says. She can hear his pout from the other end of the phone.
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” 
There’s a brief silence on the other end of the phone. He definitely wanted her to come over, he didn’t want to wait alone, he just felt bad dragging her out of bed and demanding her time. “Thanks, Y/N.”
She smiles softly at his appreciative tone. “Of course.” She hangs up the phone and gets dressed. 
Thirty minutes later, Y/N was standing at Harry’s front door knocking gently. When he answers, he’s noticeably frazzled. 
“Hey, Uncle Harry.” She says cheerily.
In that moment, Harry’s nerves and anxiety drift away and the corners of his mouth turn up into a wide, dimpled grin. He takes her hand and leads her into the house. “Wine?” 
“Half a glass.” She says as he leads her to the kitchen. She takes a seat at the kitchen island as he pours her some wine, and a little more for himself. She arches a brow at him. 
“It’s only my second, and I’m only having it so you aren’t drinking alone.” He says defensively. 
“Fine, we have one now to pre-celebrate, and another when you get back from the hospital.” She holds up her glass. “To Gemma and Michal.” 
“Mhm,” Harry hums in agreement, clinking his glass to hers and taking a sip. “Wait, what do you mean when I get back from the hospital?” 
She looks at him like he’s crazy. “Isn’t that what this is all about? You’re waiting to get the call so you can go meet your niece.” 
“Yeah, no I get that, but you said when I get back, not when we get back.” He arches a brow. 
“Because we’re not going. You are. I’ll just wait for you here, or go home and sleep…” 
“What do you mean go home? You’re coming!” 
“Harry, this is a family thing, your sister will have just gone through labor. This isn’t some party I can just tag along to.” 
“Don’t be an idiot!” Harry laughs and shoves her playfully. “You’re practically family, you know Gemma loves you.” 
Y/N rolls her eyes and shakes her head as she takes a sip of her wine. “So, should we narrow down what baby gift you’re bringing to the hospital? I know you have a room full of toys and outfits for her.” She expertly changes the subject. 
“Probably just one of the stuffies, she’ll only be in the hospital for a few days, I can bring everything else to the house when she gets home.”
She chuckles at his answer. “God, you’re already spoiling the hell out of this kid.” 
“You’d better believe it!” 
The two of them continue to chit chat and laugh, passing the time and successfully keeping Harry distracted, and then his phone rang. Harry looks at the screen, his gaze flitting up to Y/N. “It’s mum…”
“Well answer it!” She insists. 
“Mum?” Harry answers the phone, Y/N watches Harry’s expression, his eyes quickly light up, a bright smile growing on his face as he gives her a thumbs up, indicating that everything went well. 
“That’s great! Yeah, okay.” He continues to respond to his mother on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, on my way.” He looks up at Y/N. “Oh, Y/N is here, do you think Gem would mind if she came too?” His proud brother smile is quickly replaced with a shit eating grin. “Great, we’ll see you soon. Love you too.” 
“She said it would be wonderful if you came. Now they’re expecting you, so you have no choice.” He says smugly, causing her to roll her eyes. 
***
They enter the maternity ward of the hospital, and walk down the hallway to Gemma’s room. When they arrive in front of the door, Harry pauses, his hand resting on the door handle.
“You ready to be an uncle?” Y/N says softly, placing her hand on his back. 
His smile widens and he nods his head, turning the handle and pushing the door open. The friends enter the room together, Harry going straight to his sister, while Y/N goes to greet his mother, Anne. 
“Congratulations, mum.” Harry says to his sister with a chuckle. 
Gemma laughs and hugs him tightly. “Thank you.” When they pull apart, Gemma nods to the bassinet beside her. “Say hello to your niece, I know she’s the reason you’re really here.” 
Harry looks down at the sweet little bundle before him, reaching down and running a finger over her small cheek. “She’s perfect,” he coos as his eyes travel over every feature, wanting to memorize everything about this moment. 
“You can pick her up, you know.” Gemma teases. 
Harry rolls his eyes and reaches down gently, lifting his niece into his arms for the first time. He takes a seat in a nearby chair and cradles her closely in his arms, whispering softly to her, promises of protection and love, and being spoiled rotten. 
As Y/N and Anne catch up, Y/N watches Harry out of the corner of her eye, for as long as they’ve been friends, any time she saw Harry with children, it would give her a warm fuzzy feeling. He was such a natural with them, but to see him with his niece was on an entirely different level.
Y/N was so focused on Harry that she didn’t notice the knowing glances shared by Gemma and Anne. The two of them had always noticed the chemistry between Harry and Y/N, they’d drop hints now and then, but ultimately wanted to leave it to the two of them to figure out for themselves. 
Eventually, Y/N pulls out her phone, knowing Harry is going to want a picture of this moment. She snaps a few candid shots, a warm smile spread across her face. 
“You should hold her too,” Gemma says, pulling Y/N from her impromptu photo shoot. 
She looks up and smiles at Gemma, walking up to her and giving her a hug. “Congrats, Gem. I’m sorry for tagging along, I’m sure you’re exhausted, the last thing you need is extra people tagging along.” 
“You’re not an extra person,” Gemma scoffs. “You’re practically family.”
“Told you so.” Harry says smugly from his seat, the baby still in his arms. 
“Oh shut up and hand her over.” She teases. 
Harry laughs quietly, not wanting to startle his niece. He stands from the chair and waits for Y/N to be seated before carefully placing the baby in her arms. 
Once she’s holding the baby, she looks down and smiles. “She’s so beautiful, Gemma.”
“Yeah, we’re pretty fond of her.” She chuckles in response. 
Y/N’s eyes stay locked on the soft features, her light eyelashes fluttering across her delicate cheeks. Her petite mouth opens in a wide yawn, and Y/N swears her heart is going to explode. 
“You are just the most precious little thing in the whole world, aren’t you?” She coos at the newborn. “Don’t worry, when your Uncle Harry gets too annoying, you can just come find me…”
“Heyyy!” Harry whines. Y/N looks up and sticks her tongue out at him, while Gemma and Anne laugh at the exchange. 
“You look like a natural holding her, Y/N.” Anne redirects the conversation. 
Y/N smiles up at her. “Thanks, I love kids. I’d love to have a couple of my own someday…”
Those words, combined with the sight of Y/N holding a baby cause a switch to flip inside of Harry. It’s as if his world of black and white suddenly turned to color right in front of him. In that moment, he thinks about what it would be like if she were sitting there with their baby in her arms. 
His mind starts racing with thoughts, sure during their years of friendship, there have been a couple of lingering glances and drunken kisses here and there, but they were friends. He’d never even considered going beyond that, not even with the not so subtle hints that his mother and sister would drop anytime Y/N’s name would come up in conversation. But now, it was all he could think about. 
After spending a bit more time at the hospital, it was clear that Gemma and the baby needed their rest, so Harry promised to come by again in a few hours, and the pair made their way back to Harry’s house. 
The car ride was surprisingly silent, Y/N was sure that Harry would be talking nonstop about meeting his niece, and how cute she was, rehashing every gurgle and squeak that came out of her tiny little mouth, but he kept his eyes on the road, looking as though he was deep in thought. She didn’t say anything, she figured he just needed some time to process everything that had happened, and she was happy to give him that. 
When they arrived back at his house, they go inside and hang up their coats. “Wine?” Y/N asks, hoping it will open the lines of communication between the two of them. 
Harry looks up,  hint of surprise on his face, as if he forgot that she was there. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, wine would be good.” 
When they get to the kitchen, Y/N pours them each a glass, they clink them together and take a sip. 
“Oh, I got some really cute pictures of you holding her, by the way.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and shows Harry the photos. “I’ll text them to you.”
“Thanks.” He says, a dreamy smile plastered on his face. Has Y/N always been this thoughtful? Of course she had, that’s one of the things he’d always loved about her. 
“Hey,” Y/N says softly, pulling him from his thoughts. “You okay? You’ve been quiet since we left the hospital.” 
Harry smiles nervously, waging an internal battle on whether or not to disclose what’s been going on in his mind. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good. It’s just been a big day.”
“I get it. I swear, if this is how you get just from becoming an uncle, you may go catatonic when you have your own kids.” She chuckles and continues to sip her glass of wine. 
Harry feels his heart rate pickup, and he decides that he needs to get it out, he needs to tell her. “You know, you looked pretty at home holding that baby…” He says, opening the door for this conversation, that could either end really well, or really poorly. 
“Yeah, I think I felt my ovaries stir a little while I was there.” She chuckles, completely unaware of the conversation to come. 
Harry lets out a soft laugh as he takes a sip of his wine, trying to play it cool, even though he felt anything but. “You know, I had this crazy thought when I saw you holding the baby…”
“Oh yeah? What kind of crazy thought?” 
Harry smiles softly and looks down at his feet, swirling the wine in his glass. “Well, the way you were holding her, the look on your face, you just bounding her in your arms so gently, her smiling up at you, her tiny hand grabbing your finger, it just got me thinking…” He looks up, locking eyes with her, searching for some kind of reaction. 
“Thinking what, Har?” She asked tentatively. 
Harry shrugs shyly. “I dunno… it got me thinking, what if that was our kid you were holding?”
Y/N’s eyes go wide in surprise. “Ours? Like yours and mine?”
Harry nods sheepishly, but there is an intensity in his gaze. “I know we’ve never talked about that before, but, I don’t know, I saw you holding her, and it seemed so natural… and that look on your face… it changed something in my heart, and I just realized that I want that.”
“With me? You want that with me… your best friend?” 
“Yeah,” he nods, his expression never wavering. “With you, but not as my best friend, as my wife.”
“Harry…” She gasps softly. “This is all kind of out of the blue…” 
Harry takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I know, I know, but can you honestly tell me that you’ve never thought about what it would be like if we were together?”
Y/N is silent for a moment as she considers his question. “I mean yeah, of course I’ve thought about it, you’re sweet, funny, good looking. I’d be crazy not to think about it every now and then. But I just always assumed I’d been friend zoned since day one.” 
“That’s fair… and honestly, I think you kind of were. I don’t know, something changed today. I realized that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He pauses for a moment, but continues when he sees that she’s still trying to process. 
“Think about it, we know each other better than anyone else. We’ve been there for each other through so many breakups, we know exactly what the other wants and expects in relationships. I know for a fact I’d be way better than most of those idiots you waste your time with.” 
She lets out a soft chuckle, he was definitely right about that. Y/N thought about it for a minute, and she was right, there had never been a more constant, supportive presence in her life. She considered all the things she wanted in a partner, and realized that Harry was all of those things. 
“You realize if we do this, there’s no going back. It’s all or nothing…”
“I don’t want to go back, only forward. Only with you.” Harry says confidently. 
Y/N takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay, yeah… let’s do it…”
Harry’s eyes light up, his expression mixed with relief and joy. “Yeah? Are you sure?” Y/N smiles shyly, biting the corner of her lip and nodding. 
He places his wine glass down on the counter and takes a step towards Y/N, taking her glass and putting that down as well. “So, I guess we should probably kiss now?” He asks softly, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. 
“Seems like the next logical step…” She replies quietly. 
They both start leaning closer until their lips touch. The kiss is gentle at first, but Harry quickly runs his tongue along the seam of her lips, she parts them, granting him access. He places his hands on her hips, pulling her flush to him as they explore each other’s mouths. Unlike the drunken kisses they had shared in the past, this wasn’t sloppy or rushed. It was slow and deliberate, taking their time to truly explore this new side to their relationship. 
When they finally separate to catch their breath, they keep their foreheads pressed together, and look into each other’s eyes. 
“So what, we’re like engaged now, or something?” Y/N asks in a slightly teasing tone. 
“No way,” Harry says promptly. “If we were engaged, you’d know it. You’re gonna get the big, fancy elaborate proposal, and a big ol’ rock to go along with it.” He says confidently. “But it’ll be coming. Probably soon…”
“Soon?” She asks, slightly surprised. 
“Sure, the whole point of dating is to get to know someone. We’ve seen each other at our best and our worst. You know all my little quirks, and I know all those annoying little things about you, and I still want this…”
“Heyyy,” Y/N protests, causing Harry to laugh. 
“I know all the cute, sweet, endearing things about you too.” He adds, kissing the tip of her nose. 
She narrows her eyes playfully, her wide grin giving her away. “You know we do have one little problem…”
Harry’s brow rounds in concern. “What?”
“Gemma’s gonna take credit for this.”
Harry throws his head back in laughter. “You’re not wrong, but it’s a small price to pay if it means I get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend.” He leans in and kisses her again. 
334 notes · View notes
kunikuma · 6 months
Text
coffee break ☕️
relationship | kunikuzushi x gn!reader, modern AU
synopsis | the corporate world is boring. breaktime was his only reprieve during the dreaded 9-to-5 til you decided to join him. content | fluff, coworkers to... not-yet lovers? cw | none a/n | this has a very dry tone to it... to y'know, seal the deal on the vibes of the corporate world. also, this is draft number three. originally, i was gonna write some weird coworkers enemies to lovers with software developer scara. ngl, still into it. btw, sticky notes are my love language. ask me about them.
masterlist
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Sept. 17
Office life meant painful, teeth-pulling water cooler talk; a job description never explicitly stated that as a primary responsibility, but it’s there. Everyone was wordlessly expected to talk about the weather or the upcoming sports game scheduled for that weekend.
Except for Kunikuzushi because he’d proudly admit he’s a bit of a bastard and would rather die than put himself in a situation where he had to listen to some dad’s daughter’s ballet recital, or listen to someone ramble about getting a gross dog.
The man was born and bred to avoid small talk at all costs. He’d plan his coffee breaks well; watching when people were most likely to head into the office’s kitchen for a refill or to engorge on the shitty and cheap cookies the human resources lady would drop off on Tuesdays. His beady eyes would squint as the gears in his head turned. Oh, this man mentally noted the duration and frequency of each person’s break.
The overworked young man in his dreary cubicle did the math and he did the time. Prime time silence was usually around 10:30 and 2:15 each day. Then, and only then, he’d find himself slinking away from his desk, peering around the corners to walk to the bathrooms, only to dart to the breakroom to pour himself another cup of bitter, dark coffee. Y’know, to bring his hot mug to the corner of the breakroom and stare at the world below.
Change of scenery.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.
A perfect routine.
Slinking away from his desk, pouring himself a fresh cup… Blowing on the hot liquid and letting it fog his blue light lenses…
No cream, no milk, no sugar. Not a speck of artificial joy in his cup. Just the way he liked–
“How do you like your coffee, Kuni?” 
He tersely watched you drop coffee grounds into the filter of the machine, the soothing sound of them hitting the paper suddenly grated his eardrums. From the partially opened door that he was still gripping, he stared at the back of your skull. You darted around the breakroom, snatching a cracker from a platter and popping it into your mouth while you gathered some water.
What? You did not take breaks at this time.
You were pouring a little too much ground for the amount of water you had set aside. He scoffs and rolls his eyes, his fingers digging into the grooves of the wood. The grumpy developer turns around, the oak door slamming behind him.
Damn you for intruding during his solace.
Damn you for wedging yourself into his routine.
You were just his oddly pretty, annoying, and pretty cute coworker who sat a few meters away from him. During the morning meetings, you’d chime in about your daily tasks and diligently nod your head when the team lead would give you direction. You never personally spoke to him, yet he’d see you chatting away with the others on the team.
Fine by him, he intended on keeping you at arms’ length. Office friends and crushes were childish.
Admiring you from a few feet away is where he drew the line and he never intended to cross it.
You’d ruin his perfect schedule:
Arrive at work at nine in the morning.
Work.
Take his two coffee breaks.
Go home at five.
Eat.
Sleep.
Repeat til he dies.
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Oct. 3
You were fucking persistent though!  You weren’t always in the break room at the same time, but he didn’t even understand why you started showing up to begin with.
Somedays, he’d be lucky and he’d catch you squinting at your screen as you worked through his break, clicking away and typing up a storm. He could see the list of things you needed to do on a pad of paper near your desk and he’d celebrate knowing you would be too busy to intrude on his silence.
On other days, you’d be brewing up a different storm in the little kitchenette. Literally brewing up coffee from with the drip machine, or talking his ear off about absolutely useless information.
Once, you asked him about his dating life and he remained silent, dragging a blue napkin across the table in a circle. The only sound was from the coffee machine as it dripped its ambrosia into the carafe. Deciding his silence was your invitation to talk, you blabbered about your own lack of romance-
“Didn’t ask.”
He’d dryly sneer when you talked about a random date you went on months ago. You had said something about how poor of a date it was; your date showed up late, told you they couldn’t pay the bill, and left you halfway through. While he thought that was funny, his concealed amusement faded when you excitedly reminisced about a very good date you went on the other day.
When you dreamily sighed, he crumpled the napkin on the table til his knuckles cracked. The little napkin met its fate as he pelted it into the trash bin.
Kunikuzushi did not want to hear much about your love life, unless it pertained to the failures of those courting you.
Besides, it was not appropriate for the workplace! A lie.
Snickering at his shittily concealed displeasure, you wondered if you poked at a sore spot. You changed the topic to talk about the office gossip, what you planned on having for dinner that night, the weather, and how it affected your hairstyle. This seemed to have been the right choice as his shoulders visibly relaxed.
…O-of course, your manager’s boyfriend left her! She was a fool! And wow, your dinners sounded sad and pathetic because you had them alone. He certainly couldn’t say the same. He could.
Side note: he thought your complaints about your hair on Monday were unfounded. Actually, he thought your hair looked kind of… alright. It was a little cute when it a tad frizzy because you’d worry over such a tiny detail—
He shakes himself out of his head and abruptly leaves.
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Oct. 14
If he saw you had a steaming cup on the cute cat coaster on your desk, he’d awkwardly get up from his desk to… seemingly walk to the restroom. By the time he’d slide his way to the breakroom, you were there, brewing up another big communal pot for all the sad folk in the office.
These days, his gritted teeth did not suffer too much. He’d scoff at your presence but choose to remain in the break room. After all, all he needed to do was to pour himself a fresh cup of your watery coffee and head back.
He didn’t need to sit in the corner and let you use his ears like a little verbal punching bag. Perks of never needing sugar or milk; he could just leave the break room once the dark liquid was near the top of the white cup.
He could ignore your questions; if he felt an urge tickling his throat to respond to you, he’d cough or grunt in your direction. Didn’t always work.
Once, you wistfully sighed about how the office coffee never quite tasted as good as an overly expensive cup from down the street; whatever magic the barista used was out of this world. Kunikuzushi wryly broke his silence, noting that you were probably just bad at making a simple brew. 
“...sounds like a skill issue.” He mutters dryly, gingerly placing his mug down as he leans against the backrest. His finger circles the rim of the cup like the hand on a clock.
Like a fish out of water, you gawked at him. You raised your voice as you laughed and threw a jab in his direction.
Though, when you beamed at him for replying, he covered his twitching smirk with the hot mug.
Luckily for him, the hot steam from the cup aided in fogging his perched glasses on his nose, hiding the mirth in his eyes. Seeing that he broke his silence thanks to the coffee topic, you pressed on.
That day, you had learned the man was quite the home-barista, mumbling about how he owned his own combo espresso machine and milk frother back in his apartment. When you ordered him to be in charge of the coffee from now on, he only scoffed and he said you had taken over his job since you had intruded on his alone time. The communal brew’s quality tanked ever since you started intruding on his alone time.
“You have no one to blame but yourself.”
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Oct. 21
One day, as you poured water into the drip machine, you found yourself babbling over the most recent latte you had tried over the weekend.
Kunikuzushi found himself nodding absentmindedly as he stared out the glass windows again. The breakroom was decorated with oranges and blacks to celebrate the spooky season. You chimed in about how it must be his favorite time of the year because he could dress up to be a cheerier person.
He does everyone a favor and ignores you.
Down below, he watched citizens enter and exit the little cafe, hearing you happily coo over the perfect sweetness of the autumnal drink gracing your pretty lips. You mentioned something about an apple latte and he grimaces at the thought of the decadent syrup.
In many people’s hands down below, he could see the burning steam hitting the cool air of the city. The brown cardboard cup sleeves protected their hands as they took quick sips on their way to work. Through the big windows of the cafe, he could see pairs and groups of people laughing away as they sipped their drinks and enjoyed their pastries. Kunikuzushi feels a twist in his chest at the sight; how boring! People surely find joy in the most mundane things like chatting over a snack.
He laughs. He shakes his head and gets up to leave.
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Oct. 28
At 10:30 and 2:15 each day, he’d find himself cradling his hot cup and staring out the window as you blabbered about the different cafes around town. You hadn’t mentioned anything about dates and he found himself curious if you had gone on any since the last time you brought them up. Not that he’d ever ask about that.
He had finally stopped slinking around the office; rather, he’d eye the little raspberry-tinted lip gloss stain on your porcelain mug and he’d comment oh-so loudly to no one in particular that it was time for a break. If he didn’t see your head whip around like a dog who heard the word ‘walk’, he’d bump into your chair on the way to the break room. In the corner of his eye, he’d check if you were gathering your mug as he turns the corner.
These days, he’d watch the people on the street scurry like little ants, paying closer attention to the hustle and bustle of everyday life. 
Your loud-mouth blabbering about anything and everything under the sun stopped feeling like nails on a chalkboard. If he closed his eyes as he took a sip of his drink, he could almost see himself admitting it was soothing in that little room. The feeling was akin to being at home while having a podcast in the background.
More recently, the communal office fridge and cabinetry were starting to get stocked with new ingredients: milks, creams, flavored syrups, and different kinds of sugars. They were unlabeled and everyone wondered who brought them in. You tried making something tasty today but sighed when it was just a little too sweet.
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Nov. 1
“Why did you start talking to me?” He breathes, blowing the steam from his mug. The young man was at his cherished spot as he watched you make yourself a snack at the counter. Your fingers wiggled as you prepped a small plate of food to bring back to your desk. This was something he had been mulling over now and then and he needed to know.
“We’ve been on the same team together for what? Four months? What took you this long to work the nerve?”
“Took me this long? You make it sound like you have been twiddling your thumbs, waiting for me to make the first move.”
“...Annoying. You know what I meant.”
“I mean, you’re the only one left on the team I haven’t gotten to know. Plus, you’re not that bad looking. You are kinda fuckin’ scary though, I guess. A-ah, don’t tell human resources I said any of that...”
“...no promises.”
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Nov. 4
This new routine of his never grew to be boring, he’d regret to admit.
How could it?
He’d listen to you talk for maybe twenty minutes a day and you didn’t talk about ballet recitals or stupid sports games on the weekends.
More recently, you ranted about a damn puzzle you were gifted and how it was laying unfinished on your kitchen table for the last few weeks.
You were an odd one. If he was sweet, he’d describe you as an endearing breath of fresh air in a suffocating office. But he’s not sweet like that, so he’d call you weird if someone asked.
If anything, he horrifically realized he seemed to look forward to these twenty minutes.
Kunikuzushi found himself irately drumming his fingers on his desk as his eyes darted from your laughing form to the time at the corner of his monitor. In front of him, lines of code flooded his brain along with the error messages he had been reading through. His little silver ring on his finger rotated each time it brushed against the skin of its neighbor.
His eyes dart again. 
10:33
You were still laughing away with that ginger-headed fuck, Ajax. Clearly, was a convo that had your rapt attention because your body was facing the man and you were casually propping your elbow on the waist-high filing cabinet. The more extroverted man had peeked his head over his screen and called you over, not-so-quietly yelling about the latest episode of a show.
While the teensy smile on your face was nice to see, Kunikuzushi found himself squeezing his eyes shut at the sight of you smiling for that guy out of all people.
You were supposed to beam at him when he muttered a response your way.
10:37
The cranky developer was not pleased to have his routine fiddled with again. Currently, he was looking at having only thirteen of the twenty minutes he demanded each day. 
“Tsk, whatever. I’ll get my refill. If you join, you join.” He mutters under his breath, glaring at the back of your head as he shoves his chair into the desk, startling the people around him as everything rattles.
Quickly making a beeline towards the breakroom, he ignores your curious stare. The loud thumping of his shoes hitting the carpeted floors matched the weird thumping in his chest.
Why didn’t you stop him when he walked past?
Why didn’t you say something?
Did you know what time it was?
He shoves the door open and makes a beeline for the corner and flops into the chair, forgoing the refill. The loud screeching of the metal scrapping across the tiled floor rips him awake. He pinches his nose.
Breathe. 
He was being foolish, and he closed his eyes.
In the empty break room, the irritated man sat at the window and checked his watch. 
10:41
The soft pitter-patter of the rain hitting the window was the only sound today. 
He hesitates before he heads back to his desk in silence.
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Nov. 10
These days, when you were too busy to join him at 10:30 and 2:15, you’d find a freshly brewed pot with your additives in a cleanly washed mug next to the carafe. Before you could aw, you would also find a sticky note next to the mug with a passive-aggressive message.
‘hurry up. ur so slow.’
‘wow. poor taste in office friends.’
Today, there was a middle finger doodle and a ‘:P’.
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Hey, at least the coffee was back to being well-brewed.
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Nov. 14
It was interesting yet... gross to think back on how the relationship between the two of you had progressed.
The man started by keeping you no closer than an arm’s reach. These days, it felt like that desire had subdued itself. By all means, he wasn’t giving you hugs. The man wouldn’t even give you a high-five!
But that metaphorical distancing felt like it reached its end, especially once you had walked in on him stirring a plastic stick in a mug.
Curiously, you walked over after he abruptly placed it on the counter without taking a sip. Peering into it, you noticed it was a light beige color, not the usual dark, liquid abyss the man usually cradled. 
He huffs as he settles into his chair in the corner of the breakroom near his favorite window, landing a little too clumsily into the seat. Today, it was dreary outside and he watched two raindrops race each other down the clear glass. At the bottom of the glass, they combined into one big raindrop.
Pleased, you lifted the cup to your nose to get a nice whiff of a similar smelling drink similar to the autumnal one you described a while back in October. Kunikuzushi clears his throat after taking a sip of his hot cup and clicks his tongue. 
“Tried something new for myself, but I hate it. Can’t make a real latte without the proper equipment. Drink it; the subpar taste might be perfect for someone like you. Might tide you over til later.”
…Later? What did he mean by ‘later’?
Also, did he just insult you? Whatever. The drink was pretty decent.
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Nov. 15
Later, you found a little pale sticky note on your desk with scribbled text all over it. Snatching it from the bottom of your monitor, you chuckled, expecting yet another bitchy message from the short man. 
‘grab lunch with me tmrw at noon. cafe downstairs, across the street. lets ditch the shit office coffee.’
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Huh.
Not a pissy message this time around.
Breaking the routine yet again.
304 notes · View notes
fandomxpreferences · 1 year
Text
Traitor
Part Two Part Three Part Four Epilogue
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x female!reader, Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female!reader
TW:18+, cheating, radioactive levels of toxicity lol, smut, choking, voyeurism kind of, swearing, ANGST
Summary: Bradleys been acting off for a while and you finally pinpoint what the cause is. Unfortunately for him, you believe in an eye for an eye.
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: Y’ALL this is something else let me tell ya. We love a spiteful queen. Its 2 am and I will use this gif as much as I can because I love this slutty black t shirt.
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Your gut feeling that something is wrong started weeks ago, after the uranium mission. For the first time in your two-year relationship with Bradley, he accused you of looking at other men.
You had been quick to tell him that usually when someone starts making accusations out of the blue, they’re projecting. He’d been even quicker to flip the script and tell you that you were avoiding the question and deflecting.
Ever since then, you’ve noticed little things here and there. Now you’re sitting at the hard deck with all your mutual friends and your eyes narrow as you watch Bradley interact with Natasha.
She’s one of your closest friends and you've talked to her about Bradley’s odd behavior since their return. But now you’re questioning everything.
It doesn't occur to you until you see the way Bradley recoils when her hand accidentally brushed his. The pieces start coming together and you feel your blood boil.
The way that they suddenly avoid each other at all costs, the way they won't even look at each other, and the way Nat has drawn back from your friendship.
Suddenly it all makes sense and you feel like you’re going to throw up. You continue analyzing them with a clenched jaw and the look you now recognize as guilt is written all over their faces.
You bring your beer to your lips and take a long sip before chuckling to yourself. You decide not to say anything. They both know what they did and neither of them has the respect to come forward and admit it.
You told Bradley in the beginning that cheating is the one thing you could never forgive. For him to not only choose to do it anyway but to do it with a mutual friend is diabolical.
You don’t care about the why or the how. All you can think about is revenge and you have the perfect way to even the score. Your boyfriend has always thought of you as fragile like a flower, and that was his first mistake. You’re fragile like a grenade, and he just pulled the pin.
Bradley’s so caught up in his spiraling thoughts and regret that he doesn’t notice you walk up to Jake across the room.
Jake notices your figure brush up against him and he shoots you an award-winning smile. He has an idea of what happened between his teammates, but nothing was ever explicitly asked or confirmed.
When he sees the mischievous glint in your eye he assumes you must have figured it out too. He and Bradley competed for your attention in the beginning, and to say he was disappointed his fellow pilot came out on top would be an understatement. He’s always harbored feelings for you, and it seems he may get the chance to redeem himself.
You had taken a calculated risk when choosing between the two men, and boy are you bad at math. You concluded that Bradley was more relationship material and less likely to hurt you. The deep ache in your chest now begs to differ.
“Hey sweetheart, you alright?” Jake asks and you flash him a toothy grin.
“Just fine, Jake.” You answer and before you can think it through, the next words come tumbling out. “Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?”
His answer is immediate and you inwardly smirk.
“With you? Anytime.” He forfeits his game of pool without hesitation and the two of you make your way outside and down toward the water.
You fall in step together and walk silently for a few minutes before you speak up. “Did you know?” You inquire quietly and Jake almost doesn’t hear you.
You hear him sigh and he shakes his head in your peripheral. “I had my suspicions. But no, I didn’t know for sure. I would have told you if I did.’ He answers honestly and you nod.
You stop abruptly when you reach a secluded part of the beach and stare out into the dark water. It's late and there’s no one else around. Jake stands patiently with his arms crossed over his chest and after a couple of minutes, you turn to face him.
“I should’ve chosen you.” You whisper and Jake's breathing picks up.
“I don’t know what to say to that.” He confesses and you take a step closer.
“Don’t say anything. Just show me how you would’ve been different.” You almost plead and Jake closes his eyes.
“You’re hurt and not thinking clearly right now. I don’t want this to be something you regret.” He tries to reason but you only move closer and run your hand down his abdomen.
“I’m not hurt, I’m pissed. But I'm crystal clear on the decision I’m making. I could never regret you.” Your voice is soft and Jakes feels his resolve crumble.
He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close, skimming his fingers down your spine once you’re pressed tightly against him. Your foreheads are almost touching and you see him glance down at your mouth, his tongue darting out across his lower lip quickly.
“Are you sure?” He confirms and you get goosebumps when you hear the gravelly tone of his voice. "Eye for an eye.” You nod and without another moment's hesitation, his lips are on yours in a bruising kiss.
It doesn’t take long before the two of you are an entangled mess of limbs clawing at each other's clothes. Jake wastes no time in laying you down on the sand and attacking your neck.
You feel him nip at your pulse point and let out a guttural moan at the sensation when he soothes the bite mark with his tongue.
“Don’t worry, I won’t leave any evidence.” He mutters and you shake your head.
“I want you to. I want to look in the mirror and be reminded of this.” You pant and Jake ghosts his lips across your collarbone.
“Believe me darlin’, you won't be able to think of anything else.” He purrs and you whine at the promise.
You feel the tide coming in and the cool water soothes your burning skin. It's a new feeling and it sends your senses into overdrive.
You momentarily think about how Bradley had always tried to convince you to fuck on the beach but you’re quickly pulled out of your thoughts when you feel Jake’s tongue swirl around your hardened nipple.
You cry out and he moves to the other side, making sure to give it the same attention. You revel in the feeling of his mouth lapping at every exposed piece of flesh as his hands explore the peaks and valleys of your body.
His fingertips are calloused from the work he does every day and it's a stark contrast to your supple skin. He makes his way back up your ear after marking your tits, hips, and thighs and you shudder when his breath fans across your throat.
“I’d love to take my time with you sweetheart, but we're on borrowed time and I need to feel you wrapped around me. I bet you're already soaking aren’t you?” He teases while slipping a finger into your heat.
He hums when he feels you dripping for him and brings the finger up to his mouth, making a show of licking it clean. He groans as he savors the taste and looks into your eyes. “So sweet. Hope I get to devour you one day.” He groans and your thighs clench together.
“I don’t have a condom.” He says suddenly and you pull him back down to you.
“Want you to cum in me. I’m on the pill.” You whine and his head drops into the crook of your neck.
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
He lines himself up with your entrance and glances up to make sure you’re okay. You nod your head eagerly and he sinks into you with one swift motion. He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how tight you are and stares down at the place your bodies meet.
You let out a strangled moan and your head falls back in utter bliss as he stretches your walls. He stays still for a moment, waiting on you to let him know it's okay to move. It only takes a few seconds and you lift your head back up to look at him.
“Please fuck me.” You cry out and Jake doesn’t have to be told twice.
The pace he sets as he slams into you is brutal and you scream out as his pelvis repeatedly hits your swollen clit.
“That’s it, darlin’.” He growls. “Scream for me.”
His hand comes up to wrap around your throat and your eyes roll back in your head. He hits your sweet spot with every deep stroke and the sounds falling out of your mouth are obscene.
Jake thinks it sounds heavenly and he can’t begin to comprehend how Bradley could be stupid enough to want anyone else.
“God damn, look at you.” He grunts as your back arches and your body trembles underneath him. “So exquisite. Absolutely Divine the way your needy pussy swallows me whole.”
Your heart is racing in your chest and you feel the coil in your abdomen start to wind up. Jake can feel you spasming around him and watches the way your breathing becomes more erratic.
He removes his hand from your hip and presses down on your lower belly while squeezing the sides of your throat lightly.
The pressure sends you hurtling over the edge and your vision goes blurry as every nerve ending in your body erupts with fire. The sight of your legs shaking around him while you sob his name is enough to bring him to his own end.
You feel his hips stutter and his cock twitches as he empties himself into you with a deep groan. The sound of him moaning sends an aftershock through you as he slowly comes to a stop. You know that even though this was supposed to be a one-time thing, you’re going to be back for more.
The two of you stay there for a few minutes after he collapses onto your sweaty chest, trying to catch your breath. Once you’ve both come back down, he pulls out and lays down on the sand next to you.
“I'm sorry I don’t have anything to clean you up with.” He says and you look over at him with a grin.
“I have a better idea.” You exclaim and you stand up motioning for him to follow you.
You run out into the waves with a loud laugh and he stares in awe before chasing after you. When he gets close enough, you splash him playfully and he wipes the salt water off his face before pointing at you.
“You’re in for it now.” He says and you shriek while trying to swim away from him before he can catch you. He’s bigger and faster than you and you’ve barely made it any distance before his large arms wrap around your waist and pull you into him.
Your arms and legs wrap around him and you see a wicked glint in his eyes. Your own eyes widen as you try to break free to no avail.
“Don’t you dare!” You cackle and Jake dunks you both under the water. He brings you back up and you wipe at your hair and face while giggling like a child.
He smiles affectionately as he watches you and tries to recall the last time he’s seen you this carefree and happy. After a few more minutes, you trudge up the sand and try to dry off the best you can.
There’s a comfortable silence as the two of you get redressed and make your way back to the hard deck. As you approach the bar, you share a knowing look and don’t bother walking in separately.
You’re covered in hickeys and both of you are soaking wet. Anyone with eyes can put two and two together. You grab your purse while Jake closes out both tabs and lock gazes with Bradley.
You see him white-knuckling his pool stick as he takes in your appearance and you’re certain that it's only a few seconds away from snapping. You don’t say anything as you walk over to Jake and give him a gentle smile.
“You ready?” He asks and you nod before the two of you make your exit, leaving behind a pissed-off Bradley and very confused Dagger Squad.
You’re freshly showered and sitting on the couch in your living room eating popcorn when you hear the front door crash open. Bradley all but stomps down the hallway and your eyebrow quirks when you see him stop in front of the TV. The two of you thankfully still live separately, and you make a mental note to change the locks.
“Well hello to you too.” You quip and you take in his appearance. His jaw is clenched so tight you think he might break a tooth and his breath is coming out in heavy pants.
“Cut the shit.” He snarks and his eyes bore into you, cold and hard. “Did you fuck Jake?” He shouts while pointing a finger at you.
You grab the remote and maneuver around his body to pause your show before looking back at him unbothered. “Perhaps.” You reply casually and his neck and chest start getting red and splotchy.
“Was it worth it?” He sneers and you pretend to think for a second.
“Most definitely. You guys should call him Hungman.” You taunt while throwing another piece of popcorn in your mouth. You see his pupils dilate and his hand balls up into a fist.
“Guess you didn’t find that funny. Though I wasn't really joking.” You laugh and his nostrils flare.
“No, I don’t find my girlfriend fucking my teammate funny, actually.” He spits and you roll your eyes.
“So you can fuck our friends but I can’t?” You scoff and the color drains from his face.
“What are you talking about?” He tries and you feel the rage and adrenaline start flooding your system.
You squint up at him and he shifts nervously. “Don’t play dumb now, Bradley. At least Jake was worth it. Was Natasha?” You ask calmly and he looks like he might get sick.
You stand quickly and shove him backward. “I told you in the beginning, Bradshaw. I told you not to do this to me, and you did it anyway! I told you this is the one thing I could never forgive. Cheating is already disrespectful but to do it with one of our friends?!” You yell and he tries to catch your hands as they swing wildly in his direction.
“I confided in her about you! I’ve been looking like an idiot for weeks!” You scream while thrashing in his hold.
“I’m sorry.” He offers and you laugh bitterly.
“You broke my heart and all you can say is sorry? You’re a fucking traitor, Bradley.” You snap and he lets go of your wrists. You turn away from him and take a deep breath, trying with every ounce of your being to calm down before you catch a charge.
“I told you weeks ago when you tried to say I have a thing for Jake that when people start accusing out of the blue it's usually guilt and projection. You made me feel crazy, and I was right. You tried to manipulate me and it didn’t work. You don’t have an ounce of remorse.” You say, completely emotionless.
“We didn’t mean for it to happen. There was just so much fear and adrenaline, and we got caught up.” He tries to remedy the situation and you whip around. Before either of you can process, your hand connects to his cheek with a loud pop, and his face jerks to the side.
“Don’t insult my intelligence, Bradley.” You seethe. “This is a choice you made. You didn’t trip and accidentally stick your dick in her. You had plenty of chances to stop, but you didn’t. I didn't even cross your mind, and if I did then it wasn’t enough to make you think twice.”
You see his eyes flood with tears as realizes he can’t fix this, and yesterday it would have sent a pang through your heart. But standing here now, you feel nothing but hatred and disgust.
“Jake never would have done this to me.” You whisper to yourself, but loudly enough that you know he hears. You know it's cruel, maybe even evil, but it's the truth. Jake has always been a good friend to you, and after really getting to know him you’re certain that he would never betray you like this.
Bradley takes a step forward and you launch back as he reaches out for you. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You bark and the tears start falling hot and heavy down his face.
“I love you, Y/N. Please don’t do this. We can work it out.” He begs and you stare at him blankly.
“I didn’t do this. You did. There is no we anymore.” You state matter of factly while gesturing between the two of you. “You should leave.”
Bradley chokes on a sob and tries once again to move toward you but you sidestep him before he can touch you. Suddenly you hear a voice and you can see the moment that the fire returns to Bradley’s eyes.
“She asked you to leave, and you should probably listen.” Jake says from your doorway, his voice stern and full of venom.
The sandy-haired pilot glances between you and his colleague with anger and disbelief clear on his features. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
You don’t say anything as you stare back defiantly, refusing to let him feel any form of power over you. He watches you for a few seconds before turning on his heel and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you hear the door slam.
Within seconds, large tears are falling off your face and splattering on the hardwood floor. Jake crosses the space between you in two long strides and engulfs you in a hug. He doesn’t say anything as you weep into his chest, the reality of the situation and grief consuming you.
He just rocks you back and forth gently while running his hand through your hair, his other hand rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back.
He presses tender kisses to the top of your head before resting his cheek there. “Shhh, I know darlin'. I know. I’m right here, I’ve got you. Just let it out.” His voice is soft and comforting, and after what seems like hours your cries die down into weak whimpers and sniffles.
Once your breathing has evened out, Jake pulls back to look at you. His heart shatters when he sees your bloodshot eyes and puffy cheeks. He reaches up and swipes his thumbs across the swollen area, cleaning up the smeared mascara that’s staining your skin.
“I know it hurts like hell, but you did the right thing. You deserve better than that.” He consoles you, and you smile gratefully.
“Why don’t we do some face masks and watch a cheesy chick flick?” He suggests and your eyebrows shoot up.
“You’d do a face mask just to make me feel better?” You ask incredulously and he chuckles.
“I have two sisters. Trust me, it's nothing new to me. We can do a whole spa night if you want, manicures and all.” He offers and you smile brightly.
“Okay.” You agree before going to get all the supplies. And that’s just what you guys do. The evening is spent bingeing “Legally Blonde’ and ‘Miss Congeniality' while laughing loudly and debating what color would flatter Jake best.
The next morning when he goes to work, he sees Bradley on the tarmac. He looks like shit, and Jake can’t help but think that he deserves it. The pilot locks eyes with him and his gaze darts down to the nail polish adorning Jake's hands. It's at that moment that he knows. He’s lost you for good, and it's no one's fault but his own.
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Don't Need No Butterflies When You Give Me the Whole Damn Zoo
Roy Kent x Teacher!Reader
Warnings: Language, flirty Roy being flirty
1.3k words
Teach Me Tonight Masterlist
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“Twenty-three, twenty-four,” you mumbled to yourself as wriggling students piled onto the bus, chattering and calling out to friends they wanted to sit with.
Once all twenty-four kids were onboard, you turned to the chaperones, avoiding a certain pair of brown eyes as you tried to remind yourself that you were working.
“You can all go ahead,” you announced. “Sit anywhere you like.”
The chaperones moved past you, murmuring thank yous as you waved them aboard. A couple mums, a grandmother, a dad, and one ridiculously handsome uncle. The last one stopped, raising his thick eyebrows at you and nodding towards the bus.
“Ladies first,” he insisted in that gorgeous voice, placing his hand on the small of your back.
Your knuckles were practically white as you gripped your clipboard, letting Roy Kent urge you to climb up the bus steps. Pretending that you weren’t blushing furiously, you confirmed numbers with the driver and took the window seat by the bus door. To your surprise, Roy nodded to the seat next to you.
“Think I could join you?” His thick eyebrows were knitted together . “Pheebs decided to sit with Kokoruda. Don’t want to look like a fucking loser, sitting alone.”
Your lack of hesitation was almost embarrassing. “Of course,” you squeaked, scooching closer to the window. “But if a kid gets carsick, I will have to bump you for them.”
His smile had your stomach doing flips. “Well, here’s hoping no one gets sick then.” He took the empty seat, letting his fingers brush against yours as he got comfortable.
The drive to the zoo was simultaneously the shortest and longest ride of your life. Roy quietly chatted with you, telling you how excited Pheobe was for the trip, how relieved he was to have a day away from Jamie Tartt; he was even thoughtful enough to ask you about the novel you’d mentioned during your lunch together, asking you if you’d made any progress in the thick book. It was almost… disappointing when you pulled up at the zoo and had to jump back into teacher mode.
Once you managed to get everyone inside the zoo, you made sure each child knew who their adult was and gave each chaperone their group list and a map of the zoo. You gave quick instructions about where to meet for lunch and dismissed groups to go enjoy their morning, doing your best to ignore the way Roy’s eyes lingered on you.
Before you could lead your group in the direction of the giraffe exhibit, Jack’s dad placed a firm hand on your shoulder.
“Should we get your number?” he asked, wearing that smirk you often saw during drop-offs. “In case we need to get in touch with you. Emergencies and such, you know.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Roy clench his jaw as Phoebe tried to steer him towards the lions.
You shook your head quickly. “It’s fine. If you need me, just use the messaging app like normal. I’ll be checking it all day, I promise.” Your smile was tight as you took a step back, away from his hand that loitered a bit too long; Roy was still frozen in place, just staring at you.
Roy knew you didn’t like the attention from dads like Jack’s; even if you hadn’t explicitly told him, he’d figure that you weren’t the type of person to like their lingering gazes and overly friendly touches. You were too good, too kind, too sweet. But still, seeing the sharkish smile aimed at you had his chest feeling tight and his skin burning.
His chest tightened in a different way when you smiled at him before leading your group on its way. You might not like attention from students’ parents, but you seemed to be just fine with attention from smitten uncles. And for that, Roy was grateful.
It was an easy morning, leading your students from exhibit to exhibit. Just before lunch, your students insisted on a trip to the reptile house. Deciding that you had enough time, you let them wander through the dark hut, gasping and pointing at the snakes and lizards and other creepy crawlies.
Suddenly, as you leaned against a rocky wall and did your head count, you realized there was double the number you were expecting.
“Not a fan of snakes and lizards?”
Roy Kent appeared next to you, looking cooler than you felt as he leaned casually on that same wall.
You chuckled and folded your arms. “Snakes and lizards, yes. The tarantula in that corner over there, not so much.”
“Don’t worry,” Roy tutted quietly, loud enough for only you to hear. “I can protect you.” His hand found your lower back, his thumb brushing the spot where the back of your shirt rode up just a little to reveal a peek of bare skin.
Your breath hitched at his touch, prompting raised eyebrows from him. While his face was amused, his eyes were soft, assuring you that, if you asked, he’d stop touching you, he’d step back and put a respectable distance between you.
But you’d never ask that.
Instead, you smiled shyly up at him, thankful for the darkness that hid your furious blush. “Thanks, Coach,” was all you could manage.
“Anytime.”
The two of you stayed like that, watching the children explore the reptile exhibit with small smiles on your faces, neither of you knowing what to say next. Finally, the alarm on your phone went off, reminding you about lunch. Roy reluctantly let go of you, but walked close as your little groups scampered ahead to the picnic area.
“You’re fun to watch,” he murmured after you answered a student’s random question about why the sky is blue. “With the kids, I mean. Fucking natural.”
His praise had your blush returning. “Thanks.” Feeling bold, you nudged him gently. “But might want to watch the language around the kids, Coach.”
He laughed at your reprimand. “Sorry ’bout that.” He leaned in close, his gruff voice dripping with flirtation. “Don’t suppose that means I have a detention now?”
Every ounce of boldness melted away. “Oh, I, um…” You cleared your throat. “Better make sure everyone has their lunches, hmm?”
Roy watched you as you strolled from table to table, checking on your students and chaperones, the picture of amiability with your smiles. You were in jeans; he hadn’t seen you in jeans before. He liked you in jeans, he decided. Those jeans would probably look great with a Greyhounds kit. One with a number six on the back, perhaps.
The tips of his ears burned when you glanced over and caught him clearly staring. Your shy grin assured him that you didn’t mind; heck, you almost looked like you were enjoying his attention. After checking on the other groups, you finally made your way over to his table, beaming down at Phoebe and her classmates.
“Everyone’s good here?”
The kids showed off their sandwiches and chips and desserts, assuring you that they were set. After acting adequately impressed by their lunches, you nodded to Roy.
“And you, Coach? Got something to eat?”
Roy shrugged, sheepish grin on his face. “Was so busy making Phoebe’s lunch, I fucking forgot to make mine.” He laughed at the grimace on your face. “Effing forgot to make mine,” he corrected. “Sorry.”
By the time he finished apologizing, you’d already reached into your little backpack and pulled out your sandwich, already cut in half, and offered it to him. “Want some?”
“Thanks,” he huffed, taking half and pretending his heart didn’t skip a beat at your thoughtfulness. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he took a bite; how the fuck did you manage to make a simple ham and cheese sandwich taste so good?
You watched him eat, amused by the image of Roy Kent, football legend, infamous grouch, chomping on half a ham sandwich, with his little niece snug against him. He was a one-of-a-kind guy, different from anyone you’d ever dated. Heck, different from anyone you’d ever met.
As you smiled at each other across the picnic table, you couldn’t help but wonder: was Roy Kent ever going to ask you on a proper date?
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I Keep Thinking About a Gale x Ace!Tav x Astarion AU
It makes no damn sense. Compels me though.
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Let me be clear, this would be an AU and not a continuation of the “canon” I’ve established with Ace!Tav. It’s just not how I picture their story playing out. All the same, I keep circling back to this in my brain. Call it a thought experiment.
I’m probably not going to write a full fic for it. So, if anybody wants to take this general idea and run with it, feel free. Just give me a shoutout. Or if you guys are curious about this AU drop me an ask and I’ll answer with some rambles.
Speaking of, shoutout to @leighsartworks216 for letting me ramble to them about it.
Astarion x Ace!Tav Masterlist (for reference)
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Cards on the table, none of these people are ready for a poly relationship
Gale is explicitly monogamous and ties sex and romantic love intimately together. Astarion is still dealing with the idea of being enough and just ✨the trauma✨ . Meanwhile Tav has their own abandonment issues and is just waiting for Astarion to get bored and leave. And yet! This disaster trio won’t leave me alone.
So this whole thing gets started when Astarion approaches Tav about wanting to experiment with sex again
He knows Tav isn't interested in sex and doesn't want to make them feel pressured into having it just to please him, so they talk about opening up in the relationship
Tav is hesitant about it, but also doesn't want this to be the reason Astarion leaves and so agrees
They convince themselves that if Astarion wants to have a one night stand, it’s fine; so long as he’s not seeking out his emotional needs with other people then there’s no risk of him wanting to end things; this is, of course, a terrible way to handle it
So, with that hanging over their heads they reconnect with Gale over some quest (maybe getting a magical item to allow Astarion to walk in the sun)
Gale has been teaching and while happy is admittedly still a bit lonely so is grateful to see his friends again
Gale and Tav always had a close relationship, but seeing them again does stir up some of those old feelings he'd let lie because, you know, the Absolute (headcanon here for further details)
Gale internally berates himself for this because he 1) knows Tav is ace and therefor not interested in a sexual relationship which is something he prioritizes when it comes to romance and 2) Tav is clearly still in a loving relationship with Astarion, so he's not going to be the asshole to get in the middle of all that
He tells himself it’s just the loneliness talking and pushes that shit down
So, he starts getting closer to Astarion who, while still a bit of a rogue, has mellowed a bit and worked on some of his more selfish instincts
Honestly, having the opportunity to see how much Astarion is devoted to Tav increases his opinion of the man
He and Astarion’s relationship is still antagonistic, but much more playful than before
This culminated in a moment when Astarion and Tav are checking in on each other after a trap goes off
Astarion pulls them close a moment kissing Tav on the temple once it’s clear they’re fine
Gale watches this interaction, his stomach twisting with familiar jealousy, but pauses as his mind screeches to a halt realizing “wait, am I jealous of Astarion or Tav?"
Meanwhile Astarion is a bit surprised at Gale being more friendly with him, but he can't say he's complaining. He knows Tav missed him, and while he had his own jealousies early in the relationship, he's since moved passed it. Gale was the one to help him ultimately get together with Tav after all.
He makes more of an effort to get to know the wizard one on one and finds himself looking more and more
There is something oddly endearing when he rambles
Gods he really is a powerful wizard (connotation: scared and horny)
Did his robes always show off his chest hair like that
He really does make Tav happy
Until one morning he's laying in bed and snaps up enraged with himself like, "GALE?! OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU CAN FEEL COMPELLED TO FUCK. FUCKING GALE?!?!?!?!"
Full existential crisis
Yes, they said opening the relationship, but he knows how nervous Tav feels about it. They’ve told him about their past relationships and how so many of them fell apart when the topic of sex came up
But he also knows he can’t do a one night stand; he needs to trust the person he’s having sex with, he wants it to mean something
He knows Gale and he knows it would mean something with him
He also knows Gale’s opinion on monogamy; would he force him to choose between him and Tav? Would Gale even want to be with him? Astarion knows Gale used to feel deeply for Tav
And what if it ends badly? Gale is Tav’s friend, his friend. Fuck, this can’t be happening
Meanwhile Tav is reconnecting with Gale and is like, “Gods I did miss him…oh wait I like *missed* him, missed him”. But pushes that shit down because, again, in a very loving relationship with Astarion which they won’t risk for anything and 2) Gale has made it clear that sex is something he values in a relationship as a form of intimacy.
They knew they couldn’t give him that then and they can’t now
Tav is also starting to notice how Astarion is looking at Gale
They’re much more in tune with his emotions and can see he’s interested
Tav starts to feel jealous and then feels guilty for doing so because they said opening the relationship was fine
Gale is wonderful. They know he’d treat Astarion the way he deserves. They could hardly blame Astarion for ultimately choosing him
They knew deep down they were just a stepping stone on Astarion’s road to recovery. If he can be with someone who can give him so much love and sex, why would he need them?
It also doesn’t help that as they start noticing Astarion looking at Gale, they see Gale looking right back
They do feel deeply for Gale, but know his thoughts on monogamy
Besides, they turned him down before, they can’t expect Gale to have held onto those feelings
So they start to slowly distance themselves from both men, resolving that if Astarion approaches them about it, they’re not going to stand in his way.
This course of action causes all of them to start driving themselves crazy in their own heads
Astarion is scrambling because they can sense Tav pulling away and is desperate to figure out what’s wrong, but Tav won’t tell them anything
Gale can see it too and so is pushing down all of his emotions because “Tav I know you love Astarion and Astarion loves you, so what’s going on”
Tav can’t confide in him either so they just don’t say anything
This leaves Astarion and Gale to start confiding in each other more because what’s going on?
Finally Astarion spills everything to Gale, he and Tav opening their relationship, his fears about them leaving, and becuase he’s got a good idea why they’re pulling away
Gale is admittedly a bit obtuse about it which prompts Astarion to grab him by the front of the robes and start kissing him
Gale respond enthusiastically and the two of them start making out. But before it goes any further their brains catch up with them and they stop, both knowing that they need to talk to Tav
So they approach Tav and Tav’s like, “yeah, it’s fine, can’t say I’m surprised, neither of you are exactly subtle. It’s fine. I’ll take this as my queue to go then.”
Astarion then jumps in like, “wait, no, who said anything about leaving”.
Tav tries to convince him that it’s fine, that they’re happy for him, really. They can’t begrudge him for wanting more and he shouldn’t feel compelled to stay with them.
Astarion’s brain is reeling from this because are you actually kidding me? Please say you’re joking and don’t actually believe that.
He then takes their face in his hands and tells them he’s not going to stop loving them just because he wants to have sex again and if there is one lesson they’ve taught him is that he has more love in him that he ever thought possible. He’s got plenty to spare.
Gale meanwhile has been watching Astarion and Tav’s relationship for some time and has come to understand you can separate sex and romantic love
He then steps in saying, “yes, I am interested is pursuing something more with Astarion, but also with you. Honestly out of the two of you, I’ve loved you for much longer”.
Tav would still need time to accept the idea that they’re not the third wheel. Gale would need to work out how to put that sometimes obsessive love into two people and Astarion still has his trauma, but they’d all have each other to work it all out once they get everything out into the open.
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sokkigarden · 7 months
Text
dancing with our hands tied (part iv)
jamie tartt x female reader // nsfw 18+ // fwb
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masterlist // read on ao3
summary: an emotional spiral sends you to jamie's doorstep… again
word count: 3k
this chapter took it OUT of me but i actually think this might be my fav chapter so far?? eeeee excited to share w you guys :) thanks to @hopefulromances for challenging me to write and trade feedback last night! sometimes u just need a lil extra motivation 😩🫶
༻✧✧✧༺
“Hey, you’re friends with Jamie, right?”
You looked up from where you were sitting at your desk to find Zach in the doorway. You were startled by his appearance. 
After getting drinks last week, you’d gone back to his place and fell into bed. He was fun and flirty and you both had a good time, but once it was late, he asked if you needed a ride home. You’d left after calling a ride, trying not to overthink it. It was just the beginning after all.
But it had been a week since then. Zach had been keeping his distance at work and hadn’t been responding to your texts that much. You figured he was busy with the new job, so you kept yourself busy as well. But that didn’t resolve the sinking feeling in your gut.
And now Zach was standing in front of you. Asking about Jamie Tartt of all things.
“Huh?” You knew you sounded dumb but you weren’t sure why Zach was asking if you were friends with Jamie.
“Did I do something to upset him?”
“What?” you sputtered. “Um, I don’t think so.”
Despite your confusion, you had also noticed Jamie’s coldness toward the new nutritionist. Richmond had a big facility and a lot of people employed, but after Ted Lasso brought his camaraderie and positivity to the entire club, it was easy to see when someone was being off-putting. 
Since last week, you hadn’t spoken to Jamie outside of your scheduled physio treatments. You weren’t typically alone during your appointments, and it was always after his ludicrous amount of training which left him tired, so you hadn’t had the chance to talk to him much.
“Maybe you’re reading too much into things?” you suggested. “He’s always been kinda rocky– you’ve heard the stories.”
You didn’t mention that those stories were from more than two years ago. You didn’t mention that he had been much better in recent months. 
“Maybe….” Zach replied, scratching the back of his head. 
You clearly didn’t have the answer he wanted, and the room fell into silence. You looked back at the work you had open on your computer screen, before taking a deep breath and being brave.
“Hey, so I had a fun time last week,” you started with a smile. “Would you, maybe, want to go out again?”
Zach suddenly looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in the treatment room with you. You tried not to let the feeling in your gut sink even further, but you could feel the smile falling off your face.
“Oh, um, I’m gonna be busy for the next few weeks, so….” he trailed off.
You pressed your lips into a firm line, nodding once. You didn’t need to hear anything else; he was clearly not interested in pursuing you further. 
The insecurities that had lingered for a week resurfaced from the corners of your mind. You’d gotten your hopes up again, and he clearly wasn’t on the same page. It was fine. You were getting the brush off. Nothing you hadn’t experienced before.
You just wished you’d known this wasn’t going to be anything when you went into it. It had taken time, with each heartbreak, but you thought you had built up walls to prevent yourself from getting hurt again. 
“Okay, yeah,” you said, “Don’t worry about it.”
Zach gave you a smile that looked more like a grimace before leaving you alone.
How had everything gone to such shit?
There’s a reason you’d made it clear with Jamie that your relationship was just sex. If it was explicitly just sex, then you wouldn’t let yourself form an emotional attachment. No point in letting your brain drift into romantic feelings. It never worked out anyways.
Thinking of Jamie brought you back to the first thing Zach said. Was there a reason Jamie was being a dick to him? You hadn’t seen them interact much other than at the bar last week. While you had wanted to bite Jamie’s head off at first, by the time you had a chance to say something, he had left. There was a lot left unsaid.
And if here was anything that would get your mind off things, it would be bickering with Jamie. 
You checked your watch, realizing most of the players were gone by this time of evening. You finished up the report you were working on. It was probably time for you to head home too. 
And maybe you’d pay Jamie a visit on the way home, too.
༻✧✧✧༺
Not even twenty minutes later, you were knocking on Jamie’s door unannounced. You hadn’t been there since last week, but there were no cars except his parked outside, so you assumed he was the only one home. 
When he opened the door, he seemed surprised to see you, his face going through about half a dozen different expressions before settling on raising his eyebrow in question.
“Stop being a dick to Zach,” you said in lieu of greeting, walking into his home. 
Jamie shut the door and pursed his lips. He clearly hadn’t expected to be instantly berated, but it was easier to act mad at Jamie than deal with being upset with yourself.
“Aren’t I a dick to everyone?” he asked.
“No, you aren’t,” you rolled your eyes, and said in a smaller voice, “Not anymore.”
You crossed your arms. “But you are acting like an asshole to Zach. Everyone sees it.”
Jamie scoffed, shaking his head. 
“Sorry,” he said, with a defeated tone, “You can tell your boyfriend I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Now it was your turn to sound defeated, “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Jamie’s face perked up at that.
“Oh yeah? Thought you two were gettin’ cozy. Gettin’ drinks at Bones and Honey.” 
If it was anyone else, you’d think he sounded jealous, but there was no reason for Jamie to be jealous over you. He was just poking your open wound at this point.
You huffed out a breath of air, letting your arms fall to their sides. 
“He brushed me off,” you said, “If we didn’t work together, he probably would’ve ghosted me by now.”
All the frustration from the past few hours, the past few days, the past week, felt like it was bubbling to the surface. It wasn’t even like this was a new thing. You were just tired of the same thing always happening. Even when you tried to protect yourself, you still ended up getting hurt.
You were so focused on blinking rapidly to dispel the tears in your eyes that you didn’t notice Jamie wrapping you in a tight hug. You stood frozen for a moment, before wrapping your arms around his torso and nuzzling your face into his shoulder. 
The hug was so tight and warm and surprising, but it made you feel the best you’d felt in weeks, months. You didn’t even realize you were fully crying until you moved slightly and felt the wet patch of fabric on his shoulder. 
You pulled away a bit and tried taking some deep breaths, while Jamie brushed his fingers through your hair. As soon as he whispered your name, you pulled back further, still enveloped in his arms. 
“Sorry, sorry, I know this isn’t what we normally do,” you said. Your relationship consisted of arguments and sex, not tears and warm hugs. 
He shook his head, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “What’s wrong?” 
The tender tone, the soft look in his eyes, the delicate physical contact, made you start crying all over again. He gently led the two of you over to the couch, sitting down with you in his lap. 
“I just–” you sniffled, and it all came spilling out. “I just don't know what I'm doing ever. Everything I do seems wrong. I try to go after the things I want and it's never enough. I give too much, and yet not enough, and- and it's all shit.” 
Jamie’s brows furrowed together as you stared at his face. You focused on the line of his jaw and the grooves of his nose instead of his eyes. You didn’t want to meet his eyes. His hand gently grasped your chin to direct your gaze.
“You’re okay,” he murmured, as you held eye contact. “Things are hard, but they’ve always been hard, and you’ve made it through. You deserve good things. You’ll get them. You have them.” 
Those words were tender and sweet and all you wanted to hear, but a part of you refused to let yourself believe them.
“Yeah, okay,” you rolled your eyes lightly. “I guess.”
He let out a huff of frustration, before rearranging you to straddle his thighs. His arms squeezed your shoulders, but not in a domineering way; it felt soft, comforting. 
His hands were warm as they ran across your skin to your cheeks, holding your face to keep your eyes connected. He wiped the tears from your cheeks. His face held a hundred emotions and you weren’t sure what to make of any of it. 
“You have me,” he said.
You took a sharp intake of breath at his words. The words burned into your mind.
It was true. You did have Jamie. And he had you. In some sort of way. And for now, it would be enough.
He placed a soft kiss to your forehead, and then to both of your cheeks, lingering so close you could feel his exhales and swore you could hear your heartbeats in the space between. 
Then, he seized your mouth in a kiss, and it was like no other kiss you’d shared with him. While others were passionate and full of angry emotions, this was full of something raw, something untethered to your pre-existing idea of Jamie.
As you explored each other's mouths, you found yourself grinding against his lap, letting a moan out as you felt overcome with emotion. His hands ran through your hair, and you flexed your fingers under the fabric of his shirt, feeling the expanse of warm skin on his stomach. 
You tugged his shirt over his head, which broke the kiss, but you took the moment to take a breath. He kissed your cheek, your jaw, your neck, as he moved to remove your shirt as well. 
“Fuck, angel,” he said, and it felt like you were seeing each other for the first time.
It didn’t take long to remove more clothes, explore more of each other, before you finally sat down, feeling his dick slide into you. 
For a brief minute, you were frozen, breathing in each other’s air, staring at each other, taking in the moment. Then, he’s rocking into you and you’re meeting his thrusts, but it's slow, it's choppy in a heavenly way that you didn’t realize could exist between the two of you. 
“This feel good, yeah?” he asked, and you replied with a whimper of an affirmation. “Tell me this dick makes you feel good.”
“It does,” you managed to say, “You make me feel…”
He moved his hips in a way that made you see stars, leaving the last of your sentence unfinished. You scraped your nails through his hair, hearing something like a growl at the back of his throat. The sound spurred you on, rocking your hips with more determination.
“That’s it, baby, that’s a good girl,” he panted, reaching to connect your lips once more. 
You wanted to swallow him whole, wanted this moment to never end. His words were hot, but also flooded you with a different kind of warmth. You wondered if he even knew what he was saying. 
He tore his lips away after a moment and while you tried to gasp for breath, his next words made you nearly come on the spot.
“My good girl,” he whispered across your ear, before gripping your hips and focusing on where the two of you were connected.
The possessiveness in his voice tracked fire through your veins. 
You were close. You had to be. Despite how much you wanted to make this last forever, the heightened emotions were making things too much. You were feeling everything so intensely. 
He knew you were close, as he said, “Hey, look at me.”
You caught his eyes, watching each other’s faces as you finally came. Your jaw hung open, gripping his shoulders. You clenched around him as you rode out your high, and he came soon after. 
You sat there for a few moments, listening to your breathing and heartbeats mixing together. 
His hands drifted across your back in lazy motions as you nuzzled your cheek into the crook between his shoulder and neck. Jamie’s heartbeat was in his throat, his pulse racing. You could barely process everything you were feeling. What must he be feeling?
You had definitely calmed down after your spiral earlier this evening. Being with Jamie seemed to make everything else melt away. 
He readjusted you on his lap and pulled up his underwear. He grabbed his shirt from earlier and slipped it over your head. He cleared his throat, but didn’t fully pull away from you.
“I know you usually leave but,” he picked you up as he stood from the couch, “Not lettin’ you go home and spiral more. You’re staying tonight. Come on.”
He led you upstairs to his room, grabbing some new clothes from the dresser before guiding you into the bathroom. 
You didn’t do anything as you watched him turn on the shower and wait until the temperature was hot. It had been a while since you’d been in a shower with someone else, but you had a feeling this wasn’t going to be like those times. 
As soon as the shower was a good temperature, he stepped in, beckoning you to join him. He was offering without forcing you. You fought the smile creeping onto your face at his gentle expression. 
He guided you under the stream of water, combing his hands through your hair and lathering it with shampoo. The entire bathroom filled with the familiar smell of his hair products, and you felt a sense of satisfaction at knowing your own hair would smell like his soon. 
You took turns washing each other, nearly silent the entire time. It was an intimate act, and you found yourself clinging to Jamie maybe even more than earlier. 
You could feel the trails of tears across your cheeks from earlier wash away, but you could now barely remember why you’d been crying. Over some boy at work? You were all wrapped up in Jamie in the present moment. 
But this is what you’d been afraid of all along. This thing with Jamie was no longer just sex to you. And you’d known from the beginning, that if you let yourself fall for Jamie, it was over. He would ruin everyone else for you. 
What, with his silly outfits, and funny yet frustrating conversations, and the way he seemed to know your body even better than you did. 
You doubted this was anything else for him, you didn’t fit the profile of people he dated, you told yourself not to get your hopes up. You had shoved those feelings in a drawer at the back of your mind and hoped if you told yourself it was just sex, you wouldn’t fall for him.
But somewhere between the arguments and the sex, you held real conversations with him, confided in him, looked forward to seeing him each day.
Maybe it was already too late. The thought had your eyes welling up with more tears, but luckily you were facing the shower wall, as he rinsed the conditioner out of your hair. 
By the time the both of you were done, the tears had subsided, and you turned around to give him a watery smile. 
When you stepped out of the shower, Jamie wrapped you in a fluffy towel and your heart squeezed at the domesticity of it all. 
“Better?” he asked.
You nodded. You were feeling a lot better. Even if you were finally acknowledging the romantic feelings wedged deep inside of you. Even if those romantic feelings ended up being your downfall.
He grabbed the clothes he’d brought into the bathroom and divided them between you both. Two pairs of sweat shorts and two t-shirts. You knew you were going to drown in the fabric before you even put them on. You were proven right as he slid the shorts up your legs and tied off the drawstring to keep them up. You both chuckled at the sight.
After brushing your teeth, stealing some of Jamie’s skincare, and drying your hair, you didn’t have any objections as you both got into bed. He pulled you halfway across the mattress, to wrap his arms around you in the middle of the bed. 
“I’ve got training with Roy at four a.m., but I’ll be back before you wake up. Usually get back for breakfast around seven.” Jamie mumbled as he turned off the bedside lamp and wrapped his arms around you.
“Four in the morning?” you asked, “What are you going to do, bury a body?”
He chuckled, “Wouldn’t put it past Grandad, but no, we usually just go for a run.”
You shook your head at the absurdity. Even though you worked at the football facility, it was easy to forget that Jamie was a professional athlete when it was just the two of you, tucked away beneath his sheets.
As you felt yourself getting sleepy, you traced the tattoos across Jamie’s forearm in the faint light, feeling his breathing deepen as he drifted off to sleep. The lull of his exhales across your earlobe soon brought sleep to you as well.
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callmewrinkles3 · 5 months
Text
Anti-hero - DR3 x Fem!OC
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Masterlist.
Summary: 2021 hasn't exactly been the best season, and Dan's struggling with the car not driving how he wants it to. But he didn't realise that Emmy was struggling with her own work.
Warnings: Zak Brown, McLaren era in general, smut (piv, kink behaviour (marking, domination, praise kinks, light choking, consensual pain by pinching and spanking) that are in the context of a long term already defined relationship but are not explicitly discussed on the page, fingering, teasing. They're kinky kids who love it), explicit aftercare, mentions of race crashes (Monza 2021).
Words: 11k
A/N: We're baaaaaack! This is a bit of a departure for us, and we really hope you like it. As always let us know what you think, we love hearing from you!
September 2021
Dan couldn’t admit it to anyone, but the fact that Em was travelling with him everywhere was probably the best thing in his life right then. Most of the time he was miserable and he fully admitted it. McLaren meant his days were hard, the car felt weird, and it sucked. At least in Zandvoort he’d been able to have some fun in the orange cape, cheering Max on. As much as a clusterfuck that championship battle would be a part of.
The one he’d been assured he’d be a part of next year. He didn’t fully believe Zak anymore. He wanted to but something yelled at him not to.
They were sitting in the private terminal waiting to be told the McLaren jet was ready to go, Dan watching as Em worked for the few minutes before they were called. The VIP area had become normal to him, but for her it was new. It was bright and shiny and he still remembered the first time that she said she didn’t feel like she belonged there.
They’d been in bed in Italy in 2019, flying to Monza from Belgium with Max and Christian in one of the most awkward flights of his life while Em was her usual sweet self. She’d told him that private jets were for important people and she was just Em. It led to his joke that her middle name should be Humble, not Charlotte. But she deserved the world, and the world included that she deserved to be in the jet with him and everyone else.
He loved every piece of her, wanted to tell the world that he loved her but they’d agreed to keep things to themselves. He didn’t know how much longer he could do it. They were down to days until Italy and he was going to say everything, he just had to keep it in till then. He had a plan and he was sticking to it.
He pulled out the carefully wrapped package Max had slipped him after several requests with a “Vicky said these are the best.”, smiling at the still crisp treat.
“Em, here.” He held the stroopwafel out carefully, caramel nearly dripping from the edge as she shook her head and took a sip from her Pepsi bottle. “You don’t want one?”
“I’m not a caramel fan, Danny.”
“But this whole week?” Every time someone gave him one he’d take a bite and offer her one, grinning while she smiled and took a dainty bite in between checking things on her tablet. It became easy to pass it over to her.
“You looked so happy feeding me bites, I didn’t want to break your heart by telling you I don’t like caramel. Toffee yeah, but not caramel.” She smiled at him before turning her head back to work, Dan staring at the woman he loved and her pure ridiculousness.
He watched as she stared at her tablet and frowned at it not doing what she wanted. But he wanted to curl up with her on his lap the same way they were when they flew separately. But instead they’d be separated in the luxurious white leather seats, she’d have her head buried in a book with her earplugs in and trying to ignore everyone around her. It’d be fine. It had to be. Even if they were spending it with people she didn’t feel comfortable around.
Before Dan started with the team he knew she didn’t have anything against Lando. He was a kid who’d joined the grid and was fine. Dan didn’t want to know a whole lot about him after the awkward moment of Lando’s best friend asking Em for coffee in the middle of the paddock when he was a Renault junior and Em was there as Dan’s guest. It took time for Dan to let his jealousy go and Em giggled at it, but he’d finally chilled out. Then Em couldn’t totally chill out about Lando after Monaco.
The “I’ve no sympathy for him” was burned into her brain, she’d had more than one nightmare about it. That kid who didn’t know what he was talking about, who hadn’t ever had to experience anything, saying that? He was showing how privileged he was having walked straight into a team that was expected to be at the top of the midfield. Dan had told her stories about the four day warning he had before his HRT debut, she knew how it had been for him. But Em would take anything that anyone said about her - and God knew she had this year - but if you said something about the people she loved then you were essentially invisible to her. And Lando Norris had reached the invisible stage.
She was always unfailingly polite, saying good morning and good night and making small talk as they were in the same group, but other than that it was radio silence between them. Dan had tried to convince her that it was all fine, Lando was just a kid who needed to learn, but she couldn’t let it go. Months later it was still the same.
She got on the plane just ahead of Dan, smiling at the flight attendant before taking the window seat that Dan pointed her at. He took the seat beside her, Blake and Michael slipping into the seats on the other side of the table. He watched as Lando sat in on the other side, Jon and Lando’s parents there too. Someone pulled an Uno deck out and everyone except Lando’s parents and Em started playing it.
She was sat quietly in her seat, one of the cloth bound classics he’d gotten for her birthday in her hand as she read. He could see the tiny loop of her earplugs just visible, knowing she could hear everyone but was tuning it out to concentrate and it broke his heart a little bit. He wanted to pull her onto his lap, kiss the top of her head and tell her to take a nap because he knew she’d slept badly the last few nights but he couldn’t. She’d have killed him if he tried.
Nobody in McLaren knew anything about them. He wasn’t stupid, he knew there were debates on what he and Em were, but nobody knew the truth. He’d told a mechanic on Lando’s side of the garage to shut up when he made a comment about Em’s ass before. There were rumours all around the paddock and online, he wasn’t blind, but they wouldn’t confirm what they had. He wanted to keep Em safe, and nobody being able to prove that she was the love of his life was easier. Everyone in Renault knew about them - he was convinced Cyril had deliberately started a fight so the cameras were away so he could kiss her at the Nurburgring - and even in Red Bull Christian and Simon had made jokes about Dan’s heart eyes whenever Em was at a race. But it was never public, it was always between them. And in McLaren it just didn’t feel right to tell them.
Em was having issues clicking with them, the constant “if you need an assistant” comments from Zak and Andreas just pissing him off. Em was his assistant, she did a fucking great job and she was getting no respect for it. Zak had insisted that it was teething problems and it’d be fine but it had been going on for nearly nine months now. It was like his driving style and the car, it just couldn’t click right.
So they were avoiding sharing planes whenever possible. He’d organise his own charter, or go with a different driver, or anything. They’d even gone with Fernando at one point, Nando quizzing Dan on the clusterfuck that was the Renault upper echelons while they flew. Or they’d book commercial and deal with looks and selfie requests, because even being on a plane with 150 strangers was better for her anxiety than a tiny jet with people who she didn’t like. Which made no sense to Dan because people at every other team had liked her. There was a reason that she had a standing invitation into multiple hospitality suites if she wanted it.
But they couldn’t help it going to Monza. It was the final leg of the triple header, everyone exhausted and wanting more sleep. So it was easier to say yes and go so they got to the hotel earlier and actually got some sleep. But it meant that he couldn’t cuddle her, he couldn’t even hold her hand and snuggle with her to forget the world existed. Instead she sat there curled in on herself as she was halfway through Pride and Prejudice, a frown on her face and Dan unable to kiss it away.
After a torturous half hour of flying without touching her Dan was tired of it. Friends got to be affectionate with each other, he’d hugged her in public before. He could be touchy with his best friend. He laid his hand over hers, fingers lying in the gaps. She’d put one hand on the armrest as her other hand held her tablet, half looking out the window at the dark night and half paying attention to her screen. She barely even reacted to him, just her fingers loosening and then lacing with his to squeeze for a moment. It said more to him than a thousand words could have.
He knew her well enough to know she’d be silent during the flight, but he wanted to make her smile instead of the small frown on her face. If they were alone he’d have pressed kisses across her cheeks and nose to make her laugh, asking him to stop because his stubble was scratching her. But that wasn’t an option until they were in the hotel in a few hours. The next best option was texting, watching as the notification of his text appeared on her tablet.
The sky should be really jealous.
???
Because it’s pretty outside but it’s nowhere near as pretty as you.
Cocky. Should be jealous of you though, black looks good on you.
You look better on me than black does.
You’re gonna say we can test it out when we get to the hotel, aren’t you?
U know me so well.
Nobody else noticed the tiny smile that appeared on her face, but Dan did. It was there for barely a second but it was enough. At least until he could make sure she was smiling when they were fully alone.
It wasn’t until they were in the car on the way to the hotel and away from the airport that he could hold her hand and press a kiss to her fingers. There were no questions about where anyone was sitting or who was driving, he got straight into the back seat with Emmy, gripping her hand across the middle seat.
“Can we go for pizza after we check into the hotel? I’ve been waiting for one.”
“Already thinking about pizza?” Michael asked it and Dan frowned at his tone, taking it as exhausted.
“I’m never not thinking about pizza in Monza. This pizza keeps me going through the year. Plus, I didn’t throw anyone off the plane or start an argument so I deserve it.”
“You kind of do,” Dan affirmed, lifting their joined hands to his lips to kiss her knuckles.
Emmy’s wishes were his command so if his girl wanted pizza he wasn’t saying no. The fact that her favourite pizza place was also his favourite was an extra point in their relationship. After they checked in, left their things in rooms and Dan pulled her to his room for a quickie to prove his theory of the best way he looked, they left the room to have dinner.
He loved Italy. It was his family’s country, it was the first place that he’d lived on his own in Red Bull supplied housing, he had thousands of memories there. But his favourite ones were Em in Italy with him.
She always seemed happier there, more carefree. The first time he’d brought her to Italy was that first week in Monaco, eating pasta and showing her places he loved. Even when they were busy with work at races she carried herself differently there. When they had their post Monza vacation every year she was always completely relaxed. He grinned just watching her.
He could feel her relax against him as they got out of the car a few streets away from the pizza place. It always felt like he was a little bit of a spy in a foreign land when he was in Monza, the Tifosi out in force. But she was so chilled out that she didn’t say anything when he reached for her hand and held it tightly. Any time they were in public she always gave him her Dan, we’re in public face because they didn’t need any more rumours or people on the internet asking what they were. They didn’t need more people whispering about them.
He didn’t care about it. He couldn’t care less if people talked about him, that came with the territory of his job. But he couldn’t handle people talking about Em and gossiping about her. So he tried to keep his hands from her even when he kept reaching out to take her hand walking anywhere. That night he couldn’t stay away from her and she didn’t say anything about him holding her hand walking down semi familiar streets, or his hand on her lower back as they were brought to their table, or his arm around her shoulder pulling her in for a hug. She didn’t give him a little look or a gentle nudge in the stomach, no whisper to leave her alone while they were in public. It was completely the opposite, after a sip of his beer she was fully leaned against his side and half snuggling him.
“You know what we should do?” Dan whispered in her ear, only half listening to the debate that Michael and Blake were having about the Black Widow movie.
“I’m scared but curious. Tell me,” Em answered as she ignored her lemon drink in favour of another sip from his one allowed beer before a race week fully started.
“Buy a house in Italy.” He watched as her eyes lit up and her face started to move to a grin before she forced it down.
“You’re the most ridiculous man in the world. When would you have time to spend in Italy?”
“We totally could. A cute little house, a couple of bedrooms, a garden, by one of the lakes. It’d be perfect. We should do it.”
“You’re insane.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Of course it’s not!”
She was saying no but the smile she was fighting to keep off her face was enough to make Dan know it was an excellent idea. After they got engaged and found a place in London he was gonna start trying to find somewhere for them. And hopefully some kids. Showing their kids where their family was from, even if it wasn’t Sicily.
They spent the rest of the night chatting and laughing, eating pizza and joining in the conversation with their friends. Em pretended she was sticking to just soft drinks, stealing a sip from his beer every now and then as Dan winked at her and tried so hard not to kiss her wrinkled nose. The four of them walked back to their hotel as Dan forced himself not to take her hand and kiss her on the street. He had a plan and he was sticking to it. This time next week he'd be on a proper date with her, kissing her and then asking her the question that had been burning a hole in his bag since the previous Christmas. It was going to be perfect.
**
Em loved lazy Wednesdays in Italy. The fact that she'd had enough of them to know that was a magical feeling. It was the end of their triple header, just one more race to go and then they got to relax and spend a couple of days on the shores of Lake Como. Dan had taken control of booking their trip, a cute villa slightly outside the main tourist area. They spent the day relaxing for most of it. Dan had given her a list of restaurants to look at and they mapped out where they’d eat for the three days. They would have killed for longer but it just wasn’t possible in the middle of the season.
That evening was a sponsor dinner that she had to dress up for and look appropriate to be on Dan’s arm. She hated those nights with a passion. She had to be in a fancy dress and full makeup, talking to the rich men who wanted Dan at events. At least this one was for Google Italy, it was more fun than some of the other events she’d been at. A particularly boring DeWalt shoot came to mind on that.
It was Google shmoozing their own clients, using Dan and Lando to do it. Em stayed on Dan’s arm for the entire night as she smiled and shook hands. Halfway through Zak found them and stopped to talk, his own wife there with him. It was Em left with Tracy for a few moments while Zak took Dan around to speak. The two women had wine glasses in their hands and looked around the room.
“Having a good evening, Emma?” Tracy asked, Em nodding.
“It’s Em, but yeah. These events aren’t always fun but it’s nice to see Dan in his element. It’s part of the job.”
“I suppose. Not every assistant does what you do.” Em took a sip of her wine, careful not to knock the glass back like she really wanted to.
“Dan and I were friends before I started working for him. If it means that Dan can enjoy events a bit more then I don’t mind.” Tracy watched her closely for a few moments but nodded as their respective dates for the night returned.
“Sorry about that, I had to double check some things. Daniel, you’re in with Valtteri for the press conference tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, I am. Should be fun. We’re gonna head off, it’s a busy day tomorrow. See you at the track?”
He took Em’s arm and pulled her along out of the room, the two of them getting into the car and heading back to their hotel. She was tired from the busy room and having to be on around people but she kept it together as they drove on. Dan held her hand on the way back, fingers locked as he pushed a kiss to them. She smiled, looking forward to getting into bed and out of the dress she was in. Even if Dan looked excellent in his suit.
She started pulling pins out of her hair to take it out of the undo she’d managed, Dan standing beside her and pulling them out too. Once they were out he started kissing along her shoulder as he pushed her dress down. Em threw her head back to give him more access before they made it to bed.
Thursdays were weird now. Instead of press conferences it was all digital, the journalists in their hotel rooms asking questions. It meant more setup meetings, more talking, more everything. She used Dan’s meetings as a way to get the weekend planned. But it didn’t seem as busy as normal. Her calendar was half empty. Again.
At Zandvoort she thought it was a mistake but it wasn’t. It didn’t feel right. Em put her worries aside, taking a deep breath as she looked. There had to be an explanation and she needed a moment.
“I’m getting a coffee, anyone want anything?” It was just her, Dan, and Blake upstairs. Michael was out doing some checks and making sure the kitchen was stocked and ready.
“Green tea please Emmy? You make it best.” She laughed at Dan’s puppy eyes, nodding as Blake gave her his order and she went down to the main hospitality area. It didn’t take long to have everything and she went to go back upstairs when a security guard stopped her.
“Sorry Miss, drivers and support only.” His arm blocked the narrow staircase and Em stared at him.
“I am support. I’m Daniel Ricciardo’s assistant, I need to get this up to him.”
“No entry.”
Em sat watching until the guard was called outside and ran upstairs, smiling and pretending it was fine. It had to be fine. There was no other option. The drinks got handed and she watched as they were getting ready until Blake’s phone chimed.
“Shit, Dan, you’ve got a sit down we’ve got to go. Did you not see it Ems?” Blake asked, Em checking.
She stared at her tablet, the realisation hitting her. She wasn’t on any of Dan’s meetings. She looked at Blake’s calendar and his filled up with meetings, things he was in. But hers had a couple of things - the press conference, the race, practices. One of the engineering meetings. A fanzone appearance. But that was it. It was empty and she hated it. Her usually perfectly colour coded calendar was mostly blank and worried her. She was getting blocked out.
“Sorry I must have missed it. My calendar hasn’t synced, I’ll sort it.” Dan and Blake left, Em sitting staring.
She didn’t know why, she didn’t know what had caused this to happen but it was. How? Dan had promised that it was in his contract that his team had full access to all of his information and everything they needed to do their jobs. But she’d missed a meeting and he was nearly late and that was supposed to be why she was there. She had to keep that going. If she didn’t then why was she there?
The evening was half a blur as the realisation she was being pushed out hit her. Security stopping her going up to Dan and Blake. The way McLaren acted in general. All of it. They were pushing her out and forcing her away and she couldn’t keep going like this. It wasn’t fair to her or to Dan if she couldn’t do her job.
“You ok?” Dan asked at dinner, watching her barely touched food.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Just been a long, long day. I’m tired.”
“We can go back soon.”
When they got back to the hotel room Em curled up beside him, feeling the warmth of his body around her and the way he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before whispering goodnight. If this was her last race she was going to enjoy it.
**
Em was always the last one to get up in the morning. She was a night owl, getting up at seven because he had a race was the last thing she ever wanted to do. It was usually him waking her up with kisses and promises that he would bring her for food after that helped. Or early sleepy sex to wake her up. Both were fun for him.
But the bed was never empty at five in the morning. He could count on one hand how many times he’d woken up alone when they’d gone to bed together. The room was dark and silent, Em’s spot cold. She had to have been gone for more than a few minutes.
It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust to the quiet darkness and he slipped out of bed and searched for her. Her clothes were laid out where she’d left them the night before. Her shoes were there by the chair. She had to be either in the bathroom or the adjoining room that was hers in name only.
The worry in his gut turned to cold fear as he opened the bathroom door to discover her missing. His girl was gone and she had to be next door but why was she? What had she done to head to her room? It felt wrong. She should have been beside him. He eased open the adjoining door and spotted a ray of light spilling out from the bathroom. The fear eased. She was there, they could fix everything. It’d be fine. But her quiet sobs got louder as he padded across the carpeted floor to her. It was gut wrenching and painful and he pushed the door open to see his girl curled up on the floor beside the shower, her arms wrapped around her knees as she cried.
Em was in one of his oversized shirts - his in name only because he was pretty sure it was the shirt he’d given her over two years ago to help her sleep when he was travelling and she was still in London - hugging herself. Now that he was in the room her sobs were all encompassing and he had no idea how he didn’t hear her the second he woke up. She looked like a scared child, not the woman who shared his bed and his life and heart every day. This wasn’t the Em he knew.
She looked broken. He sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms, feeling how she tensed until she realised who he was. He wanted to hold her and fight against the world, but he needed to know which of her ghosts he was going to fight that night. But it felt like this time it was a whole haunted mansion. He pushed kisses against her forehead and rocked her gently, telling her how it was gonna be ok no matter what.
“I’m right here, Emmy, I promise. Whatever’s going on we can fix it. I promise. I’ll fix it for us.”
Her tears began to ease and he could look at her face. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks flushed but the rest of her face so pale. He’d never seen her this bad before. She was shaking and trying to pull herself together and he knew she wasn’t gonna have the words to discuss what caused this for a few minutes.
“When you’re ready talk to me, ok? Whatever you need. But tell me what’s wrong so we can fix this. I’m worried about you.” His thumb wiped the tears from her cheeks, but he wasn’t quick enough to get them before more came. Slowly they eased and she could take breaths without sobbing. He kept rocking her until she was ready to speak.
“You need to get ready, D.” She went to get out of his arms but he held on and waited till she looked at him with an angry pout on her lips.
“I’m not going anywhere until we talk. There is nothing more important than you, Emmy. Nothing. You’re crying in the bathroom at five in the morning and you came in here so I couldn’t hear you. What’s going on, Wrinkles? Talk to me.” He stood up still carrying her, bringing her into the main hotel room and sitting on the bed. She was playing with the hem of her shirt nervously but Dan gave her time until she was ready to speak.
“I… Dan they’re pushing me away and they’re stopping me from doing my job. And if I can’t do my job at the track then I shouldn’t be travelling so why am I even here? There’s nothing for me to be here for.” He kept his face calm as she spoke, anger filling his veins. What the fuck.
“What are you talking about, Baby?”
“They didn’t want to let me in your room today. I went down for your tea and when I went to go back upstairs they didn’t let me. I snuck past when he was distracted. It’s why it was cold.”
“Who did that?”
“Some random security guard? I’ve never seen him before, I don’t know his name. He said it was drivers and support only and I wasn’t support.”
“I’ll find out who.” Or at least Blake would. He wasn’t letting them get away with this. He couldn’t.
“Danny they’re not letting me do anything. The meeting you nearly missed wasn’t on my calendar. I’m blocked out from everything and I don’t know what to do anymore. There’s no reason for me to be here now, but I don’t want to be away from all of you. I can’t lose you, Danny. I don’t want to be stuck alone and I don’t want them to keep us apart.” He could see the worry hitting her, and he held on, kissing her forehead while rubbing her back.
“You’re not going anywhere, Emmy. You’re not gonna lose me. I’m not letting you go anywhere you don’t want to without me. You’re the one who keeps us all sane and you can’t do that if you’re at home. When did all this start, Baby?”
“Hungary? Slowly but surely. Spa it was worse and Zandvoort was bad. I didn’t know how to talk to you and Blake about it. I thought maybe I could fix it.” She looked even more nervous, jumping as his phone alarm went off in their room.
“Just my alarm, it’s alright. You did nothing wrong Baby, you hear me? Nothing at all. I’m gonna talk to Blake and we’ll fix it. I promise you, you are perfectly fine and didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Thank you.” She went to stand up but Dan squeezed her tighter before letting go, kissing her cheeks to remove the trace of tears.
“Don’t thank me. You know, right?” He squeezed her hand as she stood.
“I know.” A watery smile filled her face. “I need to get ready, I think I need a shower to fix my face before I’m in public.”
“Grab one. I’m gonna run into Blake for a couple of minutes. Are you ok if I do?”
“I’ll be in the shower, don’t worry.”
“I will anyway. I’m gonna take my phone, if you need me call me and I’ll be back in two.” He made sure she was ok before he shrugged into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. He picked up his phone and key before heading out, grabbing Em’s iPad as he did. Blake was a couple of rooms away and answered the door looking tired and annoyed, hair sticking up. When he saw Dan’s face he calmed.
“What happened?”
“Inside. Now.” Blake let him in and Dan handed Em’s iPad over, her calendar open to today. There was practice and qualifying in it and that was it. He saw how Blake raised an eyebrow.
“What the fuck?”
“I heard her crying through the wall. She’s getting left out of everything.”
“I know you share a room, I’m not a fucking idiot.”
“She went back into hers.” He laid out the little information that Em had given him, comparing her calendar to Blake’s. The missing meetings, how she was kept away. Zak asking when he wanted his new assistant to start. Dan had to stay calm but Blake could be angry then.
“I’m getting a meeting before practice. She’s gonna be fine, Dan. She’s not going anywhere. We know this. It’s Em, she keeps us alive half the time. Go back, have a shower, we’ve got breakfast downstairs for eight and then we’ll go from there.”
Too much time had passed since he got up to find her, but Dan pushed himself to get ready and get his head in the game. It was going to be a busy, chaotic morning but Em came first. The four of them ate breakfast together and he watched as she barely ate her yogurt. He stood and went over to the buffet, coming back with a Nutella croissant and a hot chocolate to put in front of her. She never really ate when she was anxious so hopefully something would be better than nothing.
On the drive to the circuit he held Em’s hand. Blake drove, Michael in the front seat beside him. Nerves thrummed through his body as he linked fingers but Em kissed his hand and he relaxed. She was there. She was right there and it was all ok.
When they finally made it into the circuit Michael went to do some checks while the other three went to his driver’s room. Em sat there staring into space while Dan stretched out. Finally it was time to go down to Zak, Blake tapping his shoulder.
“Emmy we’re heading, ok? I’ll be back in a few. If you need anything call me.”
“I will.” She still looked nervous so he leaned over to peck her lips, smiling as they separated.
“It’s gonna be fine. I promised you. Focus on holiday plans, which beach are we going to first?” She smiled at him and nodded, safe in his room. Nobody was going to remove her from it, nobody was going to kick her out. She belonged there.
He went down the stair with Blake, ignoring the look that his friend gave him.
“So you and Em?”
“Nothing.”
“It didn’t look like nothing.”
“We’re nearly there.”
“Nearly?”
“I’m trying to make it work.”
“Mate, I’m saying this as someone who loves both of you. She loves you. Just tell her.”
“We’re nearly there.” By the time Dan spoke they were outside Zak’s office and he shook his head to end the conversation. A knock on the door and they were inside, Zak standing ready to end it.
“Guys can we talk later? I’m heading to a meeting, but after qualifying we can-“
“We’re talking now.” He sat down, watching how Zak sat too. Blake followed suit.
“What’s going on?”
“Why is Em being kept from my calendar and everything she’s supposed to be on? She’s been removed from everything. She’s not supposed to be removed. It’s in my contract. What’s going on?”
“I don’t-“
“Emma isn’t able to do her job. She’s missing things because you’ve been keeping her away from everything she needs. She needs access.” Blake took over and Dan was fine to let him, he ended it. He couldn’t keep himself calm for this. He let the words wash over him until Zak got his laptop up.
“We need to keep our information safe. Having someone not employed by McLaren affects this. It’s why we’ve been asking about getting you a new assistant.”
“And Blake has access to my calendar. He’s not employed by McLaren. I trust Em with everything, you need to trust her too.”
“Fine.”
It took another two minutes before Zak closed the laptop, looking at them. “She’s there. If we lose anything I will blame her for it.”
Dan stood and left, too angry to talk. He had to get into the car soon and he wasn’t going to let it affect him. He couldn’t. Em was most important.
Emmy was still sitting where he’d left her, staring into space. It was clear to him now how much this was affecting her, she hadn’t even opened her tablet and her makeup was heavier than he ever saw it. All he wanted to do was make it better for her and fix things. This he could fix. He could make this better for her. There wasn’t a whole lot he could always fix but this he could fix. She looked up at him when he arrived and Dan smiled.
“Check your calendar.”
It took all of ten seconds for her to see that everything was back in her calendar and he watched her relax into her seat. If Blake wasn’t there he’d have kissed her, but they both had jobs to do and practice was an hour away. It was squeezing her shoulder before he went downstairs to talk to Tom.
After practice it felt like things might go ok. He went over data and grabbed lunch before getting into a fresh race suit for qualifying. Like always Em was the last person he spoke to before he got into the car. She kissed the side of his helmet and smiled with a whispered “Go fast and be safe”.
For the first time in McLaren his qualifying felt like it went right. He got out of the car just six thousandths behind Lando. It was good. Em was grinning from the back of the garage with her headphones still on when he arrived in.
That evening as soon as he could get out he did, wanting nothing more than to get to bed. The early morning had done him in, and Em was dead on her feet. It was a quick dinner in hospitality and back to the hotel, Michael and Blake in the car with them again before going up to their rooms. He watched Emmy get changed and set out her clothes for the next day like she always did. Once they were curled up in bed he pulled her closer, desperate to hold onto her as tightly as he could.
“Apart from the obvious, how was today?” He couldn’t feel her tense up at least. That was a good sign.
“Weird. But ok. Blake was like my shadow today, I was beside him the whole day. There was a weird security guy who kept looking at us but other than that it was good.” Dan felt his stomach clench but he made himself stay calm. He’d noticed extra security but that couldn’t have been why. There was no way there was extra there for his Emmy. Not at all.
He watched her eyes close and her breathing even out, his thumb rubbing circles on her back. Three more nights after this. By this time Tuesday evening he’d have said everything, and Emmy would know all of it. The ring sitting in his bag would have a home on her finger. He had so many plans for them. He wanted to marry her over Christmas when they were in Perth, make it all official. She deserved every moment of happiness he could give her and this was the start of it.
Saturday arriving to the track was different. The security had definitely lessened, and coming in realising that it had was a kick in the teeth. But he had to concentrate and work, as much as he’d rather do anything else. Two days till they were on holiday. Two days. They could do it. He was gonna get a good result and decent points and then he and Emmy were going to Lake Como for a strictly clothing optional holiday and he couldn’t wait.
Practice was shit. There was no easy way around it, no way to make it sound better than it was. It fucking sucked and he hated that it did. He hated that every time he thought he was improving he wasn’t, that he was stuck in a tractor of a car that was worse than he was promised and maybe he’d made a mistake. Maybe he shouldn’t have left Renault, maybe he should have been in the blue and pink Alpine instead. Then the bullshit wouldn’t have happened.
The anger fuelled him as he made his way upstairs to his driver room. He was tired and pissed off and fed up. What he thought was a good decision for his career had fucked him and more importantly it had fucked Em over. He never wanted to see her like that again. Ever.
Emmy was sitting on the couch upstairs, her head jolting up as he arrived in wearing his race suit. Not even seeing her calmed him fully and he knew she could tell.
“What’s wrong?”
“Guess.” She stood up and he wrapped his arms around her, feeling himself ease up on everything. She was there and it was going to be ok.
“What do you need, Danny?”
“I don’t even know.”
“Ok, rephrase. What do you need from me? What do you need to get it out?” She leaned up and kissed him and Dan caught her lips, pushing her against the wall as they made out. She was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He could feel the way that she pushed against him, her hand gripping the back of his neck.
“I think I just need to fuck you against this wall, you know that? Make you scream and have the whole paddock know this is exactly where you belong. Right here with me. But I’ve to change and go to another fucking meeting. Much less fun than what I want.” He could see the way she shivered at his words and he completely knew if he moved his hands she’d be there with him. Instead he just watched her swallow and look up.
“I’m not saying no. I’m saying not here and now.”
“You deserve better than that.”
“Danny when we get back to the hotel I want you to push me against the wall and fuck me, understood?”
His brain short circuited. Emmy was asking him. Emmy. His Emmy who before was too afraid to tell him she hadn’t had an orgasm because when they started sleeping together she thought she’d be left high and dry without one. Asking him to fuck her exactly how she wanted with no thought for anything else? He was a lucky, lucky man.
“You are amazing.” He pecked her lips one last time before just holding her. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to say goodbye and go to engineering and stretch out and everything. He wanted to spend time with his girl away from the world. But he changed his clothes and went downstairs, kissing Em goodbye before he left.
The meeting was boring, getting told to protect Lando off the starting line, as if there was no chance he could make it off himself. He’d won seven races, he could beat Lando off the start line. Even with this car. He knew he could. Finally it was time to start stretching and getting ready, Michael holding out tennis balls and helping him prep.
“You need to concentrate, you’ve got a good chance this weekend.” His trainers words were quiet but Dan could hear the full force of what he meant in them.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean you need to clear your head, mate. Worrying about Em isn’t gonna change anything.”
“Oh fuck you.” He stepped back, shaking his head while flapping his arms out to loosen them. “I’m focused on driving, that’s what matters. I have a life too.”
“I’m just saying.”
The pit lane was about to open and he stepped back, staying out of the camera view. Netflix were with them that weekend to make it worse and he had to keep a smile on his face when he didn’t want to. Em was at the stairs up to his driver room, smiling at him and quickly kissing his cheek.
“Drive fast, be safe, I’ll see you at the checkered flag. You’ve got this, Danny.” He squeezed her hand before letting go, desperate for the words to be right. It was going to happen. It had to.
Going back to the garage he zipped up his suit and ignored his name being called. Nobody spoke to him until he was in the car after Em did, it was his rule. As he stepped into the car the music changed to Stayin’ Alive, Dan looking around.
“This DJ should get fucking shot though!” He called out, staring at the team. Seriously? This bullshit again. But when he put his helmet on he forced it out of his head, determined not to hear it. He was gonna do this. He was gonna qualify well.
The start felt like a dream, and the fact that he kept going even with the touch with Pierre was important. Somehow he ended up behind Max and he wasn’t sure what had happened until Tom came over the radio.
“Good job Dan, P3. Lando’s just behind and will protect.”
Monza was fun to drive. Every moment of it was fun, the swooping curves and fast flowing corners leading to the straight where he let the throttle fly. He knew he wouldn’t beat Max, but that moment going around the parabolica knowing he was third was beautiful. The screaming of the fans, Tom congratulating him in his ear, he’d fucking done it. He’d come third in the sprint and yeah maybe it wasn’t an official podium but he’d done it and he could be proud of that. He had to be.
Seeing everyone cheering for him meant everything, Em standing with Blake’s arm around her grinning and he wanted to kiss her in front of the world. She was right there but he just grinned. It was everything.
After the interviews he was on his way back to the garage when Max stopped him with a wide smile. The paddock had cleared and it wasn’t unusual for them to walk together.
“I’m going to fight you, but if you get the start I’ll hold Lewis back.” Dan stopped and stared at the younger man, raising an eyebrow.
“Max, what?”
“If you beat me. Only if, and I’m going to fight for it. But if you do I’ll hold Lewis off for you to get the win. We both know you’re good enough for it.” Max smiled and Dan replied with one, looking at his former teammate. Sometimes he regretted leaving Red Bull more than he could ever admit. It was the right move to spread his wings, but he missed the support he used to have.
“Don’t tell Christian you said that.”
“Christian would be glad if you won and I came second. Better if I win and you come second, but he still likes you. Stop by some time, Daniel. You won’t be run away unless you try to look at our data.”
“Ah Maxy, you know me too well!” He grinned and turned into his garage, immediately welcomed by applause and cheering. It had really happened, and it was glorious.
After a stupid number of meetings and discussions they were finally ready to leave. Em was tired, her feet trudging alongside him until he bent down.
“C’mon, hop up.”
“What?” She asked, Dan indicating for her to get on his back.
“The paddock is empty, nobody’s around. Piggyback to the car, c’mon.” She held on and he walked down while talking to Michael and Blake, Em pushing a kiss to the back of his neck every few steps. He knew she knew what she was doing and he squeezed the back of her thighs, making his girl tense slightly as they walked. It wasn’t long back to the hotel and heading to bed to relax. Or in his case get all of the adrenaline out of his system.
They didn’t even do the mock of having Em go into the room that was supposed to be hers, instead he pulled her into their room, bags dropped just inside the door as it was kicked shut. Em was right there with him, her arm around him until he pinned her against the bathroom door. It was his hand in her hair to pull her head back as he trailed kisses along her jaw. It held her still as his knee split her legs and ran up to push the seam of her jeans against her. She gasped into their kiss as he held onto her.
“What did I promise you I was gonna do tonight?”
“F-fuck me against the wall.” Her words were gasps as his free hand was everywhere, teasing and pinching. It was easy to get her shirt off, exposing the pretty blue sheer lace bra. He couldn’t help himself, bending down to lick at her nipple through the barely there fabric.
“Danny…please…” she groaned and he loved every noise she made. Clothes went everywhere as he lifted her up, pulling the matching underwear down and settling her onto the barely used desk. Her legs were spread as he stood between them, sucking marks into her skin while he made his way to his ultimate destination.
Any man who wouldn’t eat his girl out was a coward as far as Dan was concerned. It was one of his favourite things to do. Em’s hair running through his curls and pulling on them, his fingers and lips and tongue working to bring her to the edge. If he was feeling particularly mean he’d leave her right there for a few moments and watch his girl beg him to move.
Tonight though he wanted to ruin her. He wanted to leave her boneless and well fucked and knowing that he was the one who did this with her. He’d leave it all behind if it meant that his Emmy was happy and he was going to slowly prove that to her.
It didn’t take long for him to feel her first orgasm come up, Em grabbing his hair and biting her lip as he took his mouth away to look up at her.
“I want to hear you. I’m the one who makes you feel like this, let me hear you. C’mon.” Her moans got louder as he dove back in, his fingers hitting the spot he knew was her everything. Once he was satisfied with the hickey he’d bitten into her inner thigh Dan moved back to her clit. He kept licking at her clit while she came, desperate to taste everything he could. It was just them in that hotel room and he was desperate for everything.
When Emmy finally stopped shaking he stood up, watching how she was flushed down her chest. She was absolutely fucking perfect.
“You ok, Baby?” He asked, leaning in to kiss her and hold onto her.
“I’m good. I promise. But you promised me a wall, Mr Ricciardo. Gonna make good on your promise?” She was grinning up at him and Dan stood, pulling her off the desk and her legs wrapping around his hips. His lips met with hers as he got them to the wall, pushing Em against it to give them more support. His fingers grabbed her hips as he finally slid into her, watching as Em looked up at him with wide eyes.
“All mine, Emmy. You’re all mine and I’m gonna make sure you know it.” His hips set a blistering pace against her and he watched as her fingers slid to where they were joined, feeling the way she tightened around him as between his pace and her fingers she came to another orgasm. She was harder to hold up after this one, tiredness taking over but he needed another.
“Third place today so I want to see three orgasms. Can you do it for me? Gonna give me that third so I can see my pretty girl? You can do it Baby, I’ve got you.”
Instead of keeping her there he took steps back towards the bed, still inside Em as he set them down carefully. His girl was right there in his lap riding him and she felt so perfect. He watched her move her hips carefully, suddenly realising how hard he’d been pushing her. There was the start of marks and bruises along her boobs and stomach and Dan moved his hand away, looking at her.
“I’m good. Danny, I’m good, I promise. If I wasn’t I’d have told you to stop. But you told me you were gonna fuck me hard against the wall and I wanted it. And right now I want you to tell me what you like.”
He looked into Em’s eyes and saw the absolute truth of what she was saying, even though part of his brain didn’t fully get it. They were rough, they’d go further kink wise than they intended sometimes, but not like this much. He knew Emmy could see the unsureness in his face and he watched as she picked up his hand and put it at her neck. It was their favourite thing in bed, and he used the feeling of comfort he knew it gave her to keep going. If she wasn’t sure she’d have called red and stopped him.
“Gonna be my good girl? Gonna let me watch you ride me and put on a show? Is that what my Emmy wants to do tonight?” He didn’t have to thrust, his hand keeping Em steady and feeling her move under him. She looked so perfect like that, chest bouncing as he watched her fuck herself on him. His perfect Emmy. He was so close to blurting everything out but not now, not till they were alone. He couldn’t do it during sex that was just cruel. He needed to do it when they had no distractions.
“Please Danny. Please. Make me feel good.”
“Such a greedy girl for me. Do you deserve another orgasm? Are you my good girl who gets another?” She nodded desperately as she bounced up and down, Dan pulling her lips closer to him.
“What are you, Emmy? Tell me and we’ll see.”
“I’m yours. All yours, Danny. You’re the only one who makes me feel this good. Please let me feel good.”
He could never deny her, pulling her in for a kiss as his fingers went straight to her clit. Between his thrusts, her bouncing, and his fingers she came in less than a minute, Dan following her straight over. He held her as aftershocks went through her body, Em’s head buried in his shoulder while he rubbed her back, unwilling to slip out of her. That meant the moment was gone and he wanted every second of it. He wanted Emmy in all the ways that he could have her. He was so fucking far gone it terrified him. But he was so blissfully happy.
Eventually they had to move, Dan pushing a soft kiss to her forehead as she lifted off him. He hurried to the bathroom to wet a cloth before coming back to clean Emmy up. She was pouting as he did and he couldn’t help but press a kiss to her to wipe it off her face before she went into the bathroom. While she was gone it was a quick call to room service for a strawberry pana cotta and a small cheesecake to be delivered. Dan slipped a robe on to answer the door, clearing their clothes away. He was delighted that he hadn’t actually ripped Em’s underwear getting them off her. One good thing.
When there was a knock on the door he answered with a smile and took the plates while giving a tip. Just as he had them settled on a table Em came out of the bathroom, showered with her hair tied up.
“You doing ok?” He asked, pulling her in for a kiss and running his hands over her.
“Yeah. I think I need some cuddles though.”
“And sugar. I got you dessert. Don’t tell anyone about my cheesecake.”
He shared his cheesecake with her and got bites in return before they curled up in bed together. He didn’t know how, but somehow she was fast asleep against him in about an hour. Emmy’s breathing evened out and he watched her sleep as the bruises he’d left on her chest were darkening. She always grinned every time she spotted a new mark he’d left on her and he hoped this time was the same. Whatever magic was there he didn’t want it to end. But sleep came calling and he had a race to drive the next day.
Em was the one who woke him up the next morning. Her kisses were nicer than his alarm clock, Dan’s hands immediately on her back and pulling her up. He heard her groan, opening his eyes to look at her.
“You ok?”
“Yeah, just sore. It’s good sore, Danny. I promise.” He raised an eyebrow and she laughed. “Honestly. I’m fine. You worked me good last night and every part of it was perfect.” She leaned down to kiss him and Dan smiled into the kiss, chasing Emmy’s lips as she got up.
“You need to shower and I need to get dressed. C’mon Mister Front Row, it’s going to be great. I have faith in you.”
That was all he needed to hear to get out of bed. It was one last kiss to Em before he went into the bathroom to shower. He nearly convinced her for five more minutes of cuddling before they had to get ready but he didn’t get away with it. Instead he showered while she got ready, putting on a McLaren shirt and jeans to be dressed. Once he was done he came out to find Emmy ready to go and he stopped in his tracks.
She was in skinny jeans and vans like usual, but every single part of her dripped his. Her three necklace hanging from her neck, the earrings with three stars he bought her. Her entire outfit was clothes he’d given her as presents and he was nearly sure if he checked her underwear was too. She was a dream and did he really have to leave for the track? It’d be fine to do the race without him. Who’d care?
Instead he pulled her in for a hug and a murmured “thank you” to Em, looking as she smiled up at him.
“For what?”
“For being you and amazing. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Walking into the circuit felt different that morning and he didn’t know why. Things were good and he was going to do his best. He was going to be on that podium no matter what. He could do it.
The time before getting in the car was a blur. He had no idea. He wanted to soak in the moments but he couldn’t, he was focusing on driving. He could drive this place blindfolded. He could do it.
Putting on his suit and boots he took a deep breath before heading downstairs. Em caught him just before he went into the garage. It was another kiss on the cheek and telling him to be fast and safe, but Dan kissed her properly for the briefest of seconds.
“You’ve got this. I’m gonna see you at that barrier.”
He walked in and picked up his balaclava to put it on before getting in the car. But before he could step in Zak caught him, an arm around his shoulder. Nobody ever did that. Emmy was the last person he talked to before he got in the car, always. She was his good luck charm. Even Michael knew not to talk to him when Em had talked to him. He’d get in and connect his earbuds for the radio and then he’d talk to Tom.
“Good luck. It’d be good to have a trophy to show around the MTC on Tuesday along with that medal, wouldn’t it?”
“Tuesday?” His blood ran cold.
“Yeah, we need to celebrate your sprint medal. Did Nicole from PR not tell you yet? Full day in the MTC then. Your calendar was empty so it looked good.”
His calendar was empty because they’d removed Em from access. Without his girl there to block the days out then its looked free. Which meant that their vacation was gone because he had to be in fucking Woking instead.
“See you at the flag!” He wanted to punch Zak’s fucking face. He was so angry he wanted to scream. But instead he got into the car, settling down and putting his helmet on and connecting it to his HANS. The radio connected in while the guys strapped him into place and he had the go ahead to bring the car to the grid. Bring it in, get out, let everything happen.
He had to blank his mind out. It’s was the visualisation crap that Michael beat into his head that he kept going with.
Finally it was the anthems and he bopped along to the Italian one, the texts of good luck from his parents floating in the back of his head.
Waiting for the lights to go out was terrifying. Seeing the five red lights made him nearly forget everything that he’d known for so long, but as soon as they blinked off he was gone. Never ask him how he made it around those first corners but pretty soon he was leading the fucking race.
It was the fastest race of his life. The only time he worried was when the safety car backed everyone up after Max and Lewis crashed, the realisation that he didn’t have Max backing things up worrying him. But he forced himself to stay calm and pushed through, Tom giving him advice on the radio. It was obvious Lando had been ordered not to attack but Dan didn’t care, too focused on making it to the flag.
“YEAH P1! You bloody did it!” Tom was celebrating over the radio, Dan screaming his lungs out. He did it. He fucking did it. Fastest lap and first place and fuck it he did it.
“Deep down I knew this was gonna come, so…thanks. Thanks for having my back. And for anyone who thought I left, I never left. Just moved aside for a while.”
Pulling into that beautiful number one podium spot felt so sweet. He won. He actually won. It took a moment to realise what was happening as he shut the car off, pulling the steering wheel out and standing atop the halo. He fucking did it.Em was there at the barrier, sandwiched between Blake and Michael and he could see tears streaming down his girl’s face in pride and he grinned behind the helmet before tapping his chest three times, watching as she realised.
The jog to the team was sweet, jumping into them in celebration. He hugged Michael and Blake before Em wrapped her arms around him. All he wanted to do was pull his helmet off and kiss her in front of everyone but that wasn’t fair. He couldn’t. So instead he let go and realised she’d been FaceTiming his parents for the race. He took off his helmet and grinned at the camera, a murmured “I love you” escaping before he got pulled back to be weighed and interviewed by DC, a grin on the Scot’s face and the promise of a drink at some point once the cameras were switched off.
He was on the podium. On the top step in Monza. He’d done that and it was a heady feeling to be back up there, the Tifosi cheering because while he might not be a Ferrari driver he was half Australian and for them that was a big moment.
The chaos of interviews and discussions and debriefs and eating were constant, he didn’t have a second to himself for hours. It wasn’t until nearly nine that they were finally done, Zak sending him away to get changed before the party that had been hastily organised for the team in celebration. He bounded up the stairs two at a time, spotting Em in the room before she’d even realised he was there. She stood, grinning and pulling him in for a kiss.
“I am so proud of you. So fucking proud of you. You did that and you proved it to everyone and you are amazing. Well done, Danny.” He pulled her for a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he got the courage to say that they had to cancel everything.
“I need to get in touch with the villa to-“
“I called them earlier to cancel. Turns out the owner is a F1 fan and had put two and two together for when you rented it and your surname. He said congratulations and to call back whenever to rent it out again, there’s no problem. And I cancelled the flight back from Milan to London on Friday. Anything else you need?”
To tell her that he’s completely in love with her. But Emmy deserved better than that. She deserved better than when he was still sweaty after a race because he’d only had a rinse off shower to get the champagne off. She deserved a big gesture, but one somewhere private because if he did it in public she’d be too embarrassed. Just because this plan was ruined didn’t mean it was all bad.
Maybe Austin, the two of them in a city they loved. They were staying back an extra night or two to enjoy it. Or at the farm over Christmas when they got to go home together. After a day of seeing their family. That would be the right way to tell Emmy everything. He’d get down on one knee in their living room with her ring and she’d say yes, he knew her.
“You know, right?” His voice was thick. The tears he wanted to let out were close but he couldn’t start crying or he wouldn’t stop.
“I know. You know too?”
“I really know. C’mon. There’s a party in a couple of hours, let’s go change and shower and maybe nap for an hour.”
He pulled a clean shirt on before picking up his bag, holding his hand out for Emmy to take. At that time of night the paddock was deserted and he didn’t care who saw. If he didn’t get to tell his girl everything this week then he definitely got to hold her fucking hand leaving. He didn't care about the McLaren cameras in his face. He'd already had to give up enough with her this weekend, they didn't get this too.
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Taglist.
@dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiphobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @elizanav @neiich @luckyladycreator2 @scotlynaurora @belledawnidk
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maochira · 7 months
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Hi mao. I don't know this is weird or not but may I ask you about blue lock boys (aiku,barou,kunigami,tokimitsu and maybe your favourite) have s/o that have a'parents energy'. Like more mature,calm,kind and take care them something like that.
That’s nothing weird! I mean, mom friends are a thing and taking care of your partner is very normal
Tags: gn!reader, established relationship
Oliver
-he may be the one looking like a dilf at the fine age of 19 but you’re the one who acts way more mature than him
-Oliver can act mature when he wants to, but most of the time… he doesn’t
-sometimes he gets stupid ideas and you’re the one who stops him because you’re afraid he might get himself into a mess
-because of you, Oliver realizes how immature he used to be when it came to dating. He never took anything serious until he fell in love with you, and that’s when he promised himself he’ll be more serious (at least when it comes to dating) and be a bit more like you
Barou
-his main love language is acts of service, so he often tries to do things for you. You immediately make him stop, though. It’s so you can be the one who does things and takes care of him
-especially in the beginning of the relationship, Barou felt very conflicted about this. But because it’s your way of expressing love he grew to enjoy being taken care of by you
-even Barou sometimes needs to let go of his strong and tough personality and be a little softer, especially if he can do it in a safe environment with you, where he knows he won’t get teased for showing a softer side of him
-but his main love language is still acts of service and that won’t change just because you want to do everything for him all the time. He will find ways to do acts of service for you
Kunigami
-your gentle personality made him fall in love with you very quickly. And even though he never said it explicitly, it’s obvious how much he loves being taken care of you. Even if it’s just a little thing like you making a cup of tea for him, it makes him feel loved like nothing else
-he’s also very glad about how mature you are because that means you very rarely have any irrational or unnecessary arguments. Actually, each time there is a misunderstanding, you two can solve it very quickly
-whenever he has a problem, you’re the first person Kunigami comes to for advice. He knows that not only are you great at giving advice, but you also help him to solve those problems in the easiest way
Tokimitsu
-he very much loves being taken care of by you. Sometimes he needs to be babied and you’re the perfect partner for that
-whenever he feels anxious, it only takes a hug from you to calm him down. There’s something very special and calming in your touch that makes him feel safe in an instant
-you always help him to get back to rational thoughts when he’s panicking. He very much needs that. A lot. And he’s very glad you never get annoyed by him and still take care of him, no matter of “unnecessary” his problems might seem
Taglist (sign-up link): @kaineedstherapy12 @zyuuuu @luvcalico @remy-roll @truegoist @vanitasbrainrot @weichspuelertrinker @acacIa @kermitslefteyeball11 @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @https-archangel @userwithlotsoftime @slowlyholypeanut @isagikisser @chaosinanutshell @0rah-s @depressed-bitchy-demon @yellowelectroslime @peachesncats @yerinsshi @blueberrryui @arxliana
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chuuyasboots · 22 days
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you get into your first argument with cowboy!nanami kento during finals week. you’re stressed beyond all belief, with about a million exams, assignments, and projects all due at the same time, and despite how understanding kento always is, you feel like he just doesn’t get it right now. 
“no, kento, i can’t come over this weekend. finals start next week and if i don’t spend the weekend studying i’m going to fail, which i can not afford to do.” 
of course you’d rather spend time at your boyfriend’s house—it wasn’t like you wanted to lock yourself away for the weekend, but you also didn’t want to risk failing important finals. 
“you can study here, ya know that, right sweetheart?” he replies. he’s not upset that you can’t come over, but he wishes you’d take him up on his offer. you’ve been in hardcore student mode for the past week, and that hadn’t stopped you from visiting last weekend. 
you sigh into the phone, “no, i can’t. we both know i’ll get distracted and that’s usually fine, but not this week. i can’t afford distractions.” 
the conversation more or less ends there, for now. kento understands that you’re busy, and you get to studying. you’re laser-focused for hours, knocking things off your to-do list like it was nothing, until your phone lights up, indicating you’re getting a call from nanami. you roll your eyes at first—he knew you were busy and that you couldn’t talk right now, he’d be fine if you let it go to voicemail. 
except when you did, he called you back moments later. you huff, letting it continue to voicemail for a second time. you’re sure that he’s gotten the hint by now, but you’re wrong, and he calls you again. at this point, your focus has already been broken and you’re pissed when you finally pick up the phone. 
“what, kento? what do you want? i told you i’m busy,” you fume when the call picks up.
kento’s, reasonably so, a little taken aback by your aggressive response. he’d called to let you know that he’d made too much dinner, and was on his way to drop off the extra to you. he knew that you never ate well or enough when you were stressed, and he wouldn’t even linger around. 
“i know that, sweetheart, but i made some dinner for you and i’m on my way to drop it off and–”
“no, kento, i told you i don’t have time for that this weekend—were you even listening?” you snap back. “you know i’d love to spend time with you, but if i do then i won’t get anything done and i’ll fail my classes.”
kento’s jaw tightens—he understands that you’re only angry because you’re so stressed, but you won’t even let him finish his sentence to explain that he wasn’t trying to interrupt you at all, just wanted to make sure you were taken care of. 
“and you’ve already distracted me by calling me, so now i’m behind. thanks, but i don’t have time, kento, you know this.”
kento’s already nearly at your apartment, which you would’ve known if you’d let him speak, but instead he just gives you a quick “yea, i know. sorry, angel. don’t work yourself too hard.” 
you dismiss the comment and end the call, turning back to your laptop and the mess of papers in front of you. god, he’d distracted you horribly, you couldn’t even remember where you’d left off. you give a frustrated sigh and decide to get up and refill your coffee. 
you make a mental inventory of everything you have yet to complete before monday as your coffee brews when you hear a knock on your door. you consider ignoring it—you don’t have time or patience for what you figure is your neighbors or friends asking to hang out or drink—but you’re not doing anything right this moment besides waiting, so you figure you may as well politely turn them down. 
instead, when you open the door, you see kento. he’s still wearing his work clothes—mud-smeared jeans and flannel, well-worn work boots—and he has something in his hands. 
your body conflicts itself when you see him—your heart warms, but your brain sours. you’d explicitly told him not to come by, and yet here he was anyway. 
“i know you’re busy, i’m just droppin’ this off,” he defends himself quickly. “i know ya won’t eat any real food when you’re stressed, and i made extra. promise i’ll be on my way now.” 
he hands you the plastic container, and your eyes are drawn to the small post-it note on the top of it. 
make sure you’re eating and drinking water. you’ll do great on all your finals, i believe in you♡
your heart swells and your eyes fill with tears quickly—maybe you’d been too harsh earlier. as kento begins to turn around to leave, you wrap him in your arms tightly, clinging to him like a lifeline. 
“‘m sorry, ken, i was really mean earlier,” you mumble against his back. “you were just looking out for me and i was so mean, ‘m so sorry.”
he shifts so that he can hug you back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “it’s okay, pretty girl, you’ll be okay. just wanted to make sure my girl was takin’ care of herself.” 
you blink up at him through teary eyes before standing on your tip-toes to kiss his lips. 
“i still have a lot of work to do, but do you maybe want to stay? you don’t have to, it’ll probably be boring for you, but i just–”
he cuts you off with another kiss to your lips, “i’d love to hang around, sweetheart. ‘ts never borin’ with you.”
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cowboy!kento masterlist
(first longer-ish thing i've written for cowboy nanami guys i am obsessed with him. also if ur reading this lmk if i should make a tag list for cowboy!kento)
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