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eff4freddie · 5 months

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Touch | Part Two

Words: 2.7k

Part One | Series Masterlist | Part Three |

You have no intention of messing with the stability you have discovered in Jackson. But whatever higher power is still up there twenty years after the end of the world has other plans.

Warnings: slow burn, post-outbreak, Joel Miller is a grump and a menace, no use of y/n, eventual smut but not in this chapter, I still have no idea how many parts this will be but I’m feeling six maybe?

Maria’s words ringing in your ears, you resolved to stay away from Joel and his not-quite-adopted daughter. Having become accustomed to defending the things that mattered to you, you found yourself protective of this little community your dad would have dismissed as communist had he had the chance to see and unfairly judge it. Sleeping without your boots on, your feet rubbing over the bare cotton tucked up in blankets, had been a pleasure you had finally remembered how to enjoy.

Marla, though. Marla has always had a flare for the dramatic and surprisingly poor judgement for someone who has lived this long through the end of the world. She was a literal child on outbreak day, as opposed to your wisened 16 years, and you suspected she may have stopped developing around that point. Her complete lack of maturity, her ability to wonder blindly into abject terror just to unblinkingly fight her way out of it, was endearing so long as there weren’t clickers on the edge of the tree line. She had decided your tendency to isolate was ‘making you weird’ and every lunch time for the last four days had arrived on your front step to march you down to the mess hall. You suspected the real reason was to check out the newcomers, under the cover of altruism. You respected her tenacity, even as you resented her for it.

Four and a half days into her crusade to integrate you into any available social group, she waved a spoon in front of your face.

‘This is no good,’ she assessed, gesturing to your eyes, then your bottom lip. You sucked it in between your teeth and reminded yourself she had been the one hauling you over the sides of mountains to get you here.

‘Be more specific,’ you said and she grinned.

‘You don’t smile when you’re in here, your eyes go all squinty,’ she observed.

You felt something click in your jaw and you reached up to push hard on the condyle, the masseter tight as a bow string.

‘Just so many people,’ you said, pushing your stew around in your bowl. ‘It doesn’t make you nervous?’

‘I go through that gate most days of the week,’ Marla replied, her tone passive but somehow assuring. ‘The way Tommy runs it, no-one’s getting through that check point with anything less than a Nobel peace prize.’

Out of the corner of your eye you watched as Joel offered his left overs to his daughter, the two of them sitting alone at the end of a nevertheless crowded table. He sat hunched, favouring his right side, his arm tucked in hard against his ribs. If he leant too far over in the wrong direction he grimaced, and you noticed this all in the fleeting glances you allowed yourself while Marla forced you to ingest first your stew, and then her gossip.

‘What do you know about them?’ you asked, cringing when Marla turned her full body to peer in their direction. It wouldn’t have surprised you if she pulled binoculars out of her cargo pants to get a better look.

‘Him and Tommy spent a lot of time apart, when Tommy was a firefly.’

You sucked air into your lungs, sure for a moment they had just collapsed.

‘He’s not anymore, not for a long time,’ Marla defended. ‘He didn’t…he doesn’t follow their philosophy.’

‘You’ve been talking to Maria,’ you observed. She started plucking at the skin around her fingernails. You smiled at her, warmth in your voice. ‘Ray not the only one doing reconnaissance?’ And you rolled your r for dramatic effect, and because sometimes you could be quite funny, actually.

Marla grinned, busted. ‘It’s. It’s important for me to know, when I’m on patrol it’s about protecting? People? So I need to know about…the people.’ You wanted to give her a standing ovation, the bullshit was so exceptional. Instead you lifted a hand to her shoulder, sent affection down your arm and under your palm, where you hoped you deposited it into her muscle.

‘Maria’s not a fan,’ you said, and watched Marla acknowledge this fact, then make her way around it.

‘He’s different to Tommy, I guess. She’s made her preferences clear.’

You let that sit for a second. You thought about telling her what Maria had said, keeping his daughter in the dark, but you felt a need to keep the seed unwatered, not to throw it any fertile ground.

‘He’s hot,’ you confirmed, simply, and she blushed.

‘He is though?’ She grinned. ‘I’m going to ask Tommy to swing him onto my patrol.’

‘He patrols?’ You asked, alarmed, noting again the way he was so stiff on his right side as he pushed his chair back behind him.

‘He’s a protector,’ she replied, and you both watched as he stood from the table, waited for his daughter to follow, then shuffled off alone and away. ‘Like me,’ Marla finished, reaching for your unfinished stew.

—

You knew, in this new world you all now made the best of, that curiosity was a dangerous thing. Remembered the young boy from two apartments down who wanted to see the sun fully set without dipping behind walls. The girl who thought the FEDRA soldier with warm green eyes might have been a softie under all the armour, all the hardship. The kid who wanted to understand why the fence was humming, and put his hand out to see what would happen. Curiosity was a dangerous, tricky, deceitful thing in a world already lousy with nasty surprises. You kept your head down and your mouth shut, and it had got you this far. You would have to be perfectly happy not knowing anything about Tommy’s older possibly homicidal but kind of limpy on one side brother. That was your plan.

It, too, failed almost immediately. It wasn’t fate or divine intervention that delivered him to you, it was Tommy, on your front porch with Joel over his shoulder, Tommy’s smile bright and benevolent and Joel’s grimace trained solely on your doorstep.

‘Evening’, Tommy said, and not for the first time you imagined him in a cowboy hat just so he could dip it to you like a gentleman. ‘You met my brother?’

You shook your head, having apparently swallowed glue sometime between opening the door and this moment.

‘He’s grumpy and he’s hurt,’ Tommy continued, undeterred by his older brother’s scoff of disapproval. ‘Not necessarily in that order.’

‘Hurt how?’ you asked, stepping forward before remembering yourself and immediately stepping back.

‘Not hurt at all,’ Joel said, and his voice was so much softer than you imagined, a gentle rumble, that carried with it years of struggle. You tried with every atom on your skin to stop the goosebumps. Failed.

‘Not recent, but acting up. The cold. The walkin’ Tommy continued. ‘Maria said you work miracles, so thought I’d give you the devil’n see what you can do.’

You smiled at Maria’s assessment, wanting to ask after her but sensing from the pure recalcitrance leeching off Joel that it would be the thing that finally made him turn and march home.

Instead you stepped aside, gesturing into the warmth of your home. Tommy smiled again, whacked Joel on the shoulder and down your front steps. ‘Behave,’ he called out behind him, to which his brother very purposefully did not respond.

You realised as soon as he was in it that your house suited Joel. It was a little shabby, a lot rough around the edges, but it smelt like warm wood and furniture oil and you’d tried to keep things ordered for the sake of appearances. He stopped in the entryway, his eyes swivelling from your lounge room to the bedroom doors, and you stepped forward and around him to get to your treatment room. ‘In here,’ you said, and turned your back so you wouldn’t see if he’d rolled his eyes at you. You felt him approach behind you, heard a floorboard creak as if it sang just for him, and held your breath.

‘The hell is that?’ he asked, and you turned to see him pointing at your apocalyptic massage table.

‘You get in the middle, the towels hold you up,’ you said, seeing it now through his eyes and dying inside, just a little.

‘Ain’t getting on that,’ he said, plainly. ‘Thing’ll collapse and take us both with it.’

You sighed. He was hot but he was also annoying. He was a perfect match for Marla.

‘You haven’t even said where you’re hurt,’ you said, and he stopped you.

‘Ain’t hurt.’

‘Where Tommy thinks you’re hurt,’ you said. You watched him cock his knee out to the side, shifting his weight to one leg and standing with his hands on his hips. He seemed bigger than the room could possibly withstand. His jaw tensed as he thought.

‘Shoulder,’ he said eventually, having apparently assessed that divulging this information wouldn’t likely result in instant death.

‘I can do your shoulder in a chair,’ you offered, and immediately regretted your choice of words. He raised his eyebrow.

‘Chair any less collapsible?’ he asked.

‘Not at all. But you’ll have less distance to fall,’ you said, and his eyes sparkled ever so slightly when he laughed.

Except that the kitchen was smaller than your treatment room and somehow you’d never noticed it, and with the table and chairs in the centre of the room suddenly it felt like Joel took up all the space. You contemplated this as he shuffled around you, how Maria at nearly eight months gone could feel petite in comparison. You realised you hadn’t seen her at the mess hall for a few days, that you should check on her.

‘I gotta take my shirt off?’ Joel muttered, with his back turned to you. When you didn’t immediately answer he turned to look at you over his shoulder, and where you thought you’d see ridicule you saw only a guarded vulnerability. For a second. Before he turned away.

‘Have you never had a massage?’ you asked, and he sat heavy down on the chair.

‘Not really my thing,’ he said, in such a way that did not engender any follow up questions.

‘You don’t have to take it off’, you said. ‘Whatever you’re more comfortable with.’

You realised then he had already decided, settled as he was with his back to you and his hands resting in his lap. He closed his eyes, almost as though he was bracing himself.

‘Go on then,’ he said.

You glanced at the ceiling. Events of the last twenty years already had you pretty much convinced there was no higher power, but in this moment you appealed to it, regardless. You had no idea what had your heart racing so fast. You flexed your fingers to try and get them to steady before you touched him.

His right shoulder was indeed tight, but you knew almost immediately that wasn’t where the pain was coming from. Over his flannel you felt along the clavicle, up to the back of his neck, swept down across his scapula. When you reached further, down towards his waist, he shifted, clearing his throat. You pulled back.

‘Said shoulder,’ he said. At this you rolled your eyes, finally having enough of the man who you were helping for free being gruff in your own kitchen. At least Maria made you tea when she came over.

‘It’s all connected,’ you said, prodding perhaps a little more roughly at his deltoid. ‘You need to think of your body like a series of links in a chain. One gets weak and the rest of them up and down from it have to compensate.’

‘Mmm,’ he replied, and you weren’t sure how but he made it sound dismissive. You felt heat on your cheeks.

‘The shoulder doesn’t just mean here,’ you said, putting your hand on the expanse of his shoulder blade. ‘Shoulder pain can be neck, jaw, back.’

‘You go to school for this?’ He asked, changing the subject.

‘I did yeah, before… Before.’

You took a step closer, repositioning yourself so that you could take his wrist in your hand and hold his arm forward, over his chest. With your other hand you pushed into the rhomboid, felt the push back of the muscle as it fought you to release.

You realised, after several seconds of holding him, that you were basically hugging him from behind. You wondered if he could feel your breath on the back of his neck. You wondered if he liked it. This close you could smell the soap he used, the sweat on the back of his neck mingling with the warmth of his cotton shirt. You released him, tension now effectively transferred from his body to yours, and he let out a long exhale.

‘You favour this side,’ you said, before you’d really thought about it.

‘Do I?’ He asked. ‘You notice things like that?’ In that moment you were glad to be behind him, so that he couldn’t see the blush storming up your cheeks.

You set upon his trapezius, then, digging your fingers into his flesh, found it more pliable than his shoulder. You heard his sharp intake of breath.

‘Tender?’ you asked, but he didn’t answer other than to grunt. You continued, suddenly realising you were dangerously close to running your hands through his hair and worse, wanting to.

He hissed then, and you stopped. ‘Sorry,’ you said, automatically, and he pushed your hand away, but not unkindly.

‘Was carrying some wood on it,’ he said, reaching up himself to poke and prod at the tender spot. ‘Tommy was there, saw me tryin’ta be a hero. Called me out on it, said I don’t know my age.’

‘Sure you weren’t showing off for the sake of your little brother?’ you asked. He grinned.

‘Not for him, but maybe for the other guys gathered round helpin’.

You put your hand on his left shoulder as you came around in front of him, pushing the table out of the way with your hip as you went. ‘Here, I just need to…’ you said, as he pushed his chair backwards to make space for you, and you used his good shoulder as an anchor when you pivoted to turn back towards him. He looked up at you, big brown eyes underneath arching brows. You saw his hands lift from his lap as if to steady you, as if to grab you by the hips and grind you down on his cock.

You swallowed. Took a second to wonder where that had come from, before you lifted your hands to his right arm and folded it again in front of him. ‘Just need to get a better angle,’ you explained, almost under your breath now that you were facing him, and he nodded quickly at you. For a moment he just gazed up at you, and you felt more naked than if he had stripped you down right there in your kitchen. You felt relief when he closed his eyes.

‘So when you say carrying some wood…’

‘Three planks, not heavy just awkward. Used to be able to do it easy.’

You cupped his trapezius, easier to get to from the front, and gently lifted the muscle up with a squeeze. Close to him like this, his face level with your chest, you felt more than heard the rush of his air as he gasped. His eyes flew open and shot straight to yours, his mouth dropping open in surprise.

You wanted to lean down and suck on his bottom lip. You felt the tremble return to your hands. A synapse, firing off randomly somewhere behind your earlobe, reminded you when the client was in pain to keep them talking. You swallowed twenty years worth of ache, and cleared your throat.

‘You a carpenter?’ you asked, and for some reason thought of Jesus, and of Joel wrapped in a loin cloth, and of nailing yourself to the cross if you couldn’t fucking get your shit together.

‘I was a contractor,’ he said, closing his eyes now that you were no longer actively torturing him.

‘What are you now?’ you asked, feeling a click under your fingers as the joint finally settled. He exhaled, the relief causing him to finally relax just a little, his whole frame leaning forward toward you, such that you worried his head would collide with your breast.

‘Old,’ he said, after a beat.

‘All fixed,’ you said, taking a step back and colliding inelegantly with the kitchen table. Later, after you’d refused any and all payment and he had promised to owe you a favour regardless, after you’d walked him to the front door and shown him out, after you’d gone into your treatment room and stood staring at your massage table as if it had any answers, you went and stood in the doorway to your kitchen. The table was still askew, the other chairs dangerously close to scuffing the walls. Your gaze lingered, though, on the chair where he had just been. You found yourself reluctant to move it, wanting to sit down in it to try and keep his warmth. You laughed at yourself, wondered what Marla would say, tried to practice how you could tell her the story at lunch tomorrow.

You flicked the light off before you went to bed. You’d move the chair back tomorrow. Maybe.

#pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #no y/n

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just-aake · 6 months

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Boundless Devotion - Part XIV

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Warnings: angst, violence, blood, hurt/comfort, major injury

Words: 6283

In the courtyard of the Bishop manor, an arrow flies through the damp air, its trajectory slightly skewed as it lands off-center from the desired bullseye.

“You’re not accounting for the rain, Kate Bishop,” a voice remarks from nearby, the tone carrying a hint of amusement.

Drenched and disheartened, Kate hangs her head with a groan of frustration before trudging back towards the shelter of the small pavilion at the edge of the courtyard.

“I’m trying,” she mutters with a small pout. “It’s so much simpler without the weather working against me.”

Yelena, who was observing from under the shelter, pushes the plate of assorted pastries towards Kate.

“It takes practice. Now sit. Have a snack. It will make you feel better,” she suggests in her usual matter-of-fact tone.

Setting down her equipment nearby, Kate dries her hair with a previously prepared towel before joining Yelena at the table. She bites her lips lightly in contemplation, and then, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone, she begins to speak.

“You know, it’s been a while already. Maybe we should go over there and check on them.”

Yelena waves her hand in disagreement.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” she comments while reaching for a pastry. “If anything, they’re probably together right now, being all affectionate and in love with each other.”

She takes a bite and gestures pointedly, continuing.

“I mean, all that pent up tension between them has to spill over eventually.”

As she finishes off the treat, an upset expression crosses her face when she recalls the earlier encounter at Y/n's manor, and she slumps her cheek on her hand with a sigh.

"Plus, I don't think that snooty lord would let us in anyway,” she mutters dejectedly.

Hearing this, Kate frowns, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat in thought.

“It’s so strange that you were turned away. I didn’t think he was so strict with Y/n,” she remarks before shrugging. “Then again, maybe that's why she always cancels our plans whenever he's around.”

"It’s weird, right?” Yelena exclaims in question at the situation.

She waves another pastry towards Kate pointedly, continuing.

“I say the sooner Natasha marries Y/n and gets her away from that man, the better. He gives me a bad feeling," she finishes, shuddering.

Kate nods in agreement before plucking the pastry from the younger princess’ outstretched hand, a playful glint in her eye as she enjoys her stolen treat.

Meanwhile, Yelena gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her chest and feigning shock at her action.

Rolling her eyes, Kate tosses another pastry at Yelena, who catches it easily, before moving her attention to the courtyard.

Her canine runs excitedly through the rain, but just as he starts to jump in the muddy puddles, Kate decides to call out to him, trying to limit the mess he’ll eventually bring into the manor.

“Lucky, come here!”

Responding to his name, Lucky bounds towards her, his tail wagging eagerly, but at the last second, he veers toward Yelena who waves a treat in his direction.

Giving him the treat, Yelena affectionately pets him and playfully squishes his face, while speaking to him with mock seriousness.

"Isn’t that right, Lucky? Lord Dreykov is a big jerk, isn't he?"

Lucky barks happily, as if agreeing, but then, with a sudden shift of focus, his head turns away from her, and he dashes off towards Kate's manor.

Yelena’s eyes follow him in confusion before noticing Natasha striding purposefully in their direction, her expression a blend of determination and barely concealed frustration.

“Oh, she does not look happy,” Kate observes.

“Nope, definitely not,” Yelena agrees, adding. “Looks more murderous than in love.”

As she draws near, undeterred by Lucky's playful antics of circling her, Kate greets her cautiously.

“Hey, Natasha, how did it go?”

“We have a problem,” Natasha answers urgently, her hand pulling Yelena up from her seat as she speaks.

“Wha—hey!” Yelena protests in surprise, taken aback by the sudden movement.

Sensing the seriousness of the situation, Kate quickly rises to her feet, concern etched on her face as she reaches for her bow.

“Did something happen with Y/n?” she asks.

Before Natasha can respond, one of the Bishop’s house guards approaches the pavilion, interrupting their conversation.

“Shall I arrange for more pastries for the princesses?” the guard asks, prompting a confused look from Kate.

“What? No,” she replies. “We’re actually about to leave soon. Have someone prepare our horses for us at the front gates.”

Beside Natasha, Lucky's playful demeanor disappears, replaced by a low growl as he fixes an intense gaze and threatening stance at the guard.

Suspicion creeps into Natasha's expression as she eyes the guard warily before moving towards the pavilion's exit with Yelena in tow.

The guard matches her step, blocking their path with a slight bow of his head, though his expression remains emotionless.

“I'm afraid the weather is still unfavorable for any travels, Your Highnesses.”

At his declaration, Yelena lets out an amused chuckle, pulling herself from Natasha’s grip and crossing her arms.

“It’s just rain. We’ll be fine—!”

Her reassurance is cut short in surprise as Natasha swiftly knocks out the guard.

“What was that for?” Yelena asks in astonishment, bending down curiously to inspect the unconscious guard.

“I’ll explain on the way,” Natasha says, pulling her sister back to her feet. “Right now, we need to move before they find us.”

“Um…did you mean them?” Kate asks, pointing in the distance.

Across the courtyard, Lord Rumlow leads a band of armed men towards them, a self-assured smirk on his face.

Among the group are mercenaries bearing the symbol of the Hydra Den, along with the escaped prisoners and several prison guards who wear the same emotionless expression as the unconscious one on the ground.

Yelena hums in realization, studying the scene with narrowed eyes before leaning in closer to her sister to ask with a sigh, “I’m guessing this is part of the problem?”

“Yep,” Natasha replies bluntly, her jaws tightening as she assesses the situation.

Rumlow and his men swiftly surround them, effectively blocking any potential escape routes.

Even with the three of them, a full-on assault would be a challenging battle, not to mention it would consume a lot of time. Time that would be better spent on going to help you than dealing with this traitorous lord.

As if sensing their predicament, Rumlow raises his head arrogantly, and his smirk widens.

“You’re outnumbered, Romanov,” he taunts. “Surrender to me now, and I’ll consider killing you all swiftly.”

Kate scoffs in disbelief at his audacity and steps forward, hands on her hips.

“You’re the one who’s trespassing, Rumlow. If anything, you and your little friends here will be apprehended by my guards soon enough.”

“That won’t be happening,” a voice cuts in from the manor’s door.

Lady Eleanor Bishop, accompanied by more guards from her household also wearing emotionless expressions, carefully observes the scene before walking to Rumlow's side with a grave look.

Kate's eyes flit confusedly between her mother and Rumlow, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips.

“Mom, what...what are you doing?” she questions, her voice tinged with apprehension.

Above them, thunder rumbles ominously, echoing the emotional turmoil forming in the tense atmosphere.

Stepping cautiously, Yelena joins Kate’s side, her hand hesitantly landing on her shoulder in comfort.

“I don’t think she’s here to help, Kate.”

Kate shrugs off Yelena's touch, her gaze fixed on her mom in disbelief.

"No, that’s ridiculous. You’re not…we’re not traitors," she insists, her eyes pleading. "Right, mom?"

“Kate,” her mother begins with a heavy sigh, “You need to come with me. It’s too dangerous to be involved with those two anymore.”

Unable to believe what she’s hearing, Kate furrows her brows in anger and confusion.

“How can you say that?” she exclaims in outrage. “Our family has been loyal to the Romanovs for generations, and now you want to betray them…for this guy.”

Her voice lowers into a small whisper as she looks at her mom with a betrayed expression.

“How could you?”

Rather than shame, a look of anger and anguish forms on her mother’s face.

“Because Kate…despite all we’ve done, in the end, we are the ones who lose more. Your father died protecting the royal family,” she reminds her, her voice laced with pain. “And now you want to become a knight too.”

Her gaze then hardens with a glare as she turns to look at Yelena and Natasha.

“I had hoped you would’ve given up by now, but the princesses keep encouraging you,” she accuses, resentment flashing in her eyes.

“They didn’t force me to become a knight,” Kate defends, clenching a hand to her chest. “That was my choice!”

With a firm shake of her head, her mother’s expression becomes serious and resolute as she makes her decision clear.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she states firmly, leaving no room for argument in her tone. “You'll realize eventually that this is for your own good. I won't allow my family to risk their lives any longer. Especially not for those two.”

Kate recoils at her mother’s words, her eyes widening in disbelief and hurt.

Unsure of what to do next, she instinctively turns to the other person in her life whom she trusts.

Yelena meets her gaze with a small, pained smile, then rubs her neck nervously — a familiar gesture that Kate recognizes as a sign of her discomfort.

“I told you she never liked me,” Yelena says lightly in a half-joking manner before adopting a more serious tone and giving her a reassuring nod, “It's alright, Kate. Whatever decision you make, I'll support you. This doesn’t have to be your fight.”

Kate’s frown deepens at Yelena’s last words, and her hand instinctively reaches out towards the younger princess.

“Enough!” Eleanor declares, commanding, “Come here, Kate.”

Ignoring her mother's demand, Kate fixes her gaze on Yelena for a moment longer before turning back to look at her mother.

With a deep breath, she takes a defiant step closer to Yelena, shaking her head.

“No,” Kate asserts firmly. “These are my friends.”

Determined and resolute in her decision, she tightens her grip on her bow, staring unwaveringly at her mother.

“I chose to become a knight to protect them. And that's what I’m going to do.”

Her mother stands frozen, stunned at her declaration, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly in a mixture of anger and concern.

The tense silence is suddenly broken by a slow mocking clap as Rumlow steps forward.

“Well, it sounds like she’s made her choice,” he declares, pushing Lady Eleanor back and gesturing to the Bishop guards to restrain her. They follow his silent command mindlessly, taking her arms.

“What are you doing? This is not part of our deal!” Eleanor exclaims in alarm as she struggles in the grips of her own guards.

Rumlow raises a brow at her before declaring, “You gave me your guards to be tested and controlled for my bidding, and I agreed that I would spare you and your daughter.”

Gesturing back to the three of them, he continues, “Now, if she wants to die with them, then let her. It’s not like anyone ever expected her to amount to anyth—!”

Rumlow abruptly stops and ducks, dodging an incoming plate thrown at him.

It shatters on the ground behind him, and he quickly straightens from his cowering position, pointing in outrage at the culprit.

“You insolent little…!”

Yelena steps forward with another plate in her hand, a subtle calm anger in her expression as she confronts him.

“What? You didn’t learn your lesson when I beat you during the tournament,” she taunts. “Finish that sentence, and I’ll remind you how hard I can hit,” she threatens, her hand preparing to throw the other plate.

Rumlow reacts swiftly, pulling one of his men in front of him, using their body like a shield.

Before Yelena can throw the plate, Natasha’s arm appears in front of her in a stopping gesture.

With a determined step forward, Natasha addresses him, intending to finish this as quickly as possible.

“You want the throne, Rumlow?” she challenges, her voice steady and commanding. “Then let’s settle this once and for all, just you and me.”

As expected, at her direct challenge to him, Rumlow’s eyes subtly dart around to look at his men, sensing the pressure of their expectant expressions.

With a forced clearing of his throat and an arrogant smirk, he pushes aside his human shield, standing tall before drawing his sword with an exaggerated flourish.

“Very well, Your Highness,” he answers, punctuating his words with a mocking bow before pointing his sword at her.

The steady patter of the rain on the ground echoes in the silence of the tense atmosphere filled with anticipation as an open space is created for the duel, and everyone around the two waits with bated breath for the fight to begin.

With a loud growl, Rumlow charges first, lunging with an onslaught of violent swings at Natasha.

The clash of steel fills the air as Natasha gracefully blocks and dodges every one of his attacks while studying his movements for weaknesses.

Soon, frustration and anger begin to appear on Rumlow’s face when none of his strikes land as intended.

On one particularly powerful swing, Natasha blocks it, but instead of recoiling, Rumlow keeps the pressure, pushing forward against her blade.

“You’re so weak!” he spits out with contempt. “What does Y/n even see in you?!”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed at his words, already knowing that he was just trying to provoke her, but still, her teeth clenched with silent fury at the audacity of him to even speak your name.

He intensifies the pressure, pushing her sword closer to her chest with each angry word.

“It’s all your fault! Always in the way, keeping her from me!” he sneers. “If it weren’t for you, she would’ve already belonged to me!”

Suddenly withdrawing his pressure, Rumlow pulls out a hidden dagger and swipes at Natasha from close range. Reacting swiftly, she twists out of the way to a safer distance, regaining her balance.

Despite her quick reaction, Natasha still feels a slight sting on her arm, and glancing down, she sees the small cut where his blade grazed her.

“You never were an honorable fighter, Rumlow,” she remarks pointedly before giving him a determined glare. “And you’re definitely no leader.”

Taking the initiative, Natasha lunges forward with calculated and precise attacks, forcing Rumlow to take a defensive position.

Frustration grows in his expression as he struggles to fend off her advance.

Seeing his wavering confidence and panic, Natasha continues her relentless attacks and raises her voice louder for the others to hear, intending to put some doubts in their minds about following someone like him.

“You never care about anyone but yourself. Do they know that you’ll just dispose of them once you’re finished using them, just like how you did with Lady Eleanor?”

“Shut up!” Rumlow grits out angrily, countering with a wide arching swing that Natasha easily ducks under, side-stepping behind him to deliver a hard kick to his side.

He stumbles a couple of steps from the impact but quickly recovers, regaining his balance.

In the corner of her eyes, Natasha can see the hesitation in some of his men’s expressions as they begin to whisper among themselves.

She returns her focus to the fight, determined to finish this quickly so that she can get to you.

Natasha smoothly parries the next strike that Rumlow swings her way, her grip tightening as she remembers what he said earlier about you.

“And Y/n,” her voice softens at your name, before giving him a harsh glare and punctuating each of her next words with increasingly powerful swings.

“She’s many things—amazing, wonderful things—but she does not belong to you!

With a final, thunderous blow, Natasha sends Rumlow crashing to the ground, his sword clattering from his grasp as he falls to his knees before her.

“And she is worth more than anything you ever deserve,” she declares, her voice ringing out with unwavering conviction as she stands over him.

With a burning glare, Rumlow sneers at her angrily, his hands clenching the wet ground at his clear loss.

“Give up and yield, Rumlow. You’re not going to win this,” Natasha says, offering him one last chance to surrender.

“Go to hell, Romanov,” he spits venomously at her in refusal.

Recognizing that he won’t accept her offer, Natasha prepares to deliver the finishing blow when a sudden movement catches her attention, prompting her to pivot and block the incoming attack from one of the controlled prison guards who had come to Rumlow's aid.

She deflects their swing and pushes them away before backing to a safe distance.

An arrow streaks past her, piercing another guard who attempts to pursue her, knocking them to the ground.

“Of course, he would cheat,” Yelena remarks as she and Kate join Natasha’s side, weapons drawn and ready to keep the others at bay.

Some of Rumlow’s men move to help him up from the ground, but he angrily shakes them off, waving his hands wildly in frustration.

“Get off of me!” he barks, his face flushed with rage as he grabs someone nearby by their collar, shaking them violently. “Well?! What are you all staring at?”

He shoves them forward, shouting, “Kill them!”

Several of the men exchange hesitant glances before slowly advancing toward the three of them, weapons raised for battle.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Kate asks, moving closer to stand back to back with the two princesses.

“We fight,” Natasha responds, tightening her grip on her sword.

“That’s a terrible plan,” Yelena says with a sigh.

“Do you have a better one?” Natasha counters.

Before Yelena can respond with a sarcastic comment, a strong wave of energy, tinged with red, pushes the incoming assailants back, knocking most of them off balance and causing them to topple against each other.

Though the unknown force wasn’t directed at them, its widespread effect was still powerful enough to make Natasha’s feet slide against the ground, pushing them all back slightly.

Regaining her footing, Natasha looks towards the source, and to her surprise, she sees Wanda standing at the manor’s door, breathing heavily as she leans against the frame for support.

Her hand is still outstretched towards Rumlow’s men, the tips of her fingers swirling with remnants of the red energy, matching the glow in her eyes.

“You!” Rumlow exclaims, stumbling upright, his eyes crazed with vengeance as he points in realization at Wanda. “You’re that disrespectful little servant!”

A sinister grin forms on his face as he points his sword at her.

“You’re going to pay for how you treated me, and this time, Y/n is not here to protect you now.”

At his words, Wanda rolls her eyes and scoffs in disbelief, her expression shifting into concentrated fury and annoyance as she straightens.

She directs her hands at him, and Rumlow’s advance towards her freezes in place as red energy surrounds him.

“You insufferable idiot,” Wanda says with an angry glare before raising her hands. Rumlow’s body follows her movement, rising from the ground.

A panicked and struggling expression appears on his face as he stares at her in shock.

Wanda gives him a pointed look, ensuring that he understands her next words, “She’s the only reason why I didn’t do this to you before.”

With a flick of her wrist, she sends him flying across the courtyard, smashing into the wooden targets. The frames collapse around him as he remains unconscious and unmoving under the pile of debris.

A tense silence envelops the courtyard before slowly, fearful murmurs begin to rise from some of the recovering men at what they had just witnessed.

“W-witch! She’s a witch!” one of them cries out, his voice trembling with fear.

Those who were not knocked unconscious from the initial blast join in, their fearful shouts filling the air as they scramble and push at each other to run away.

Only when the remaining enemies have retreated does Wanda finally collapse to her knees, her breath coming out tiredly as the red glow in her eyes fades and the red mist around her hands disappears.

Footsteps rush to her side, and she feels a hand on her shoulder.

“That was amazing!” Kate’s awed voice praises before noticing Wanda's exhausted expression. Her voice lowers with concern as she bends down closer and asks, “Wait, are you okay?”

Wanda raises her hand in reassurance, though her breathing is still tired and unsteady.

“I’m fine, just…not used to doing so much in such a short time…I just need a minute, and I’ll be okay.”

“Hey, take your time. Breathe,” Natasha directs, kneeling beside her and patting her back gently in comfort.

Wanda shakes her head quickly in refusal.

“No, I can’t. Pietro’s hurt…he needs help.”

“I’ll go get someone,” Kate says, standing up urgently to go retrieve the physician in the manor.

“Take Lucky with you, and don’t trust anyone that he doesn’t,” Natasha instructs her. “We don’t know who else could be under Rumlow's control.”

Kate nods grimly in understanding, whistling to call Lucky to follow her as she rushes into the manor.

Yelena steps up closer to them, her brows furrowing as she comes to a realization.

“Wait, if you’re here, and Pietro’s hurt. Then where’s Y/n?” she asks, knowing how much you care for the twins.

Wanda looks down, hanging her head before replying, her voice filled with regret.

“Dreykov has her.”

Natasha’s eyes widen, feeling her blood run cold at the information. She stands quickly in alarm.

“We need to go,” she says urgently.

Wanda nods in agreement and attempts to stand too, but she stumbles on her feet.

Yelena catches her, providing support to keep her upright, but it’s obvious that Wanda’s energy still has not returned, unfit for further travel at the moment.

Yelena meets Natasha’s conflicted eyes and gives her a reassuring nod.

“Go,” she tells her, “We’ll follow as soon as we can.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Riding through the pouring rain, Natasha’s mind fills with worry for you. The unnerving silence and emptiness of your manor’s grounds do nothing to soothe her racing thoughts.

If Dreykov had hurt you again, she was determined to make him pay, regardless of the consequences.

Rushing through your manor’s entrance, Natasha heads straight towards your wing. However, just as she’s about to run up the stairs to your room, your voice calls out from behind.

“Natasha!”

She stops and turns around, seeing you step out from the shadows toward her.

Without hesitation, Natasha moves quickly in front of you, her hand cradling your face as she examines you.

Your expression appears normal and calm, showing no signs of pain or panic, and it doesn't look like you are injured.

Still, Natasha asks worriedly, “Are you okay?”

“Of course. Everything’s fine,” you reassure her, taking her hands in yours and holding them between your bodies.

Something was wrong, Natasha realizes.

Despite your reassurance, an uneasy feeling washed over her the moment you touched her.

She stares down intently at your clasped hands, trying to figure out this unsettling feeling within her heart.

You tighten your grasp on her hands to get her attention, prompting her to return her gaze to yours.

Concern appears on your face as you observe her, while your thumb moves in a soothing caress along the back of her hand.

“You’re freezing, Natasha. Let’s go warm you up.”

You attempt to pull her in the direction of the stairs, but Natasha stands firm and unmoving, causing you to turn back around and tilt your head at her in question.

Natasha’s eyes observe your face carefully before glancing down again at your hand in hers.

Realizing that she is not going to follow, you move back to her.

“Come on, Natasha," you call, your voice lowering as you step even closer, almost pressing against her.

Natasha's eyes follow your actions suspiciously as your hands slide up her front to rest on her shoulders.

"We need to get you out of these wet clothes soon, or else you'll catch a cold. I can draw you a nice warm bath, and then maybe after…,” you continue, leaning in to whisper next to her ear, “…we can spend the remainder of the night together.”

Your suggestion hangs heavy in the air between the two of you for a moment before Natasha lets out a shaky breath.

Shaking her head, she pushes you away gently, holding your shoulders at arm's length as she meets your eyes with a sad expression.

“Wanda said that Pietro was hurt,” she reminds you.

“Don’t worry about him,” you reply, your tone filled with indifference.

The smile that remains on your face and your words confirm what she now realizes is wrong.

Natasha shuts her eyes briefly, her heart heavy at the painful realization. Hanging her head, she takes a deep breath to gather her resolve to confront you.

Your hands gently cradle her cheeks, coaxing her eyes back to meet your gaze, and you give her your usual soft smile.

“Hey,” you whisper. “Just be here with me.”

Your touch is delicate as you brush back strands of her wet hair from her face, a familiar gesture that she is used to from you.

Truthfully, Natasha wants nothing more than to fulfill that request of yours, but when she looks into your eyes, she can’t seem to find any of your warmth in them.

Taking a steady breath, Natasha grabs the back of your hand, halting its movement. She then presses a soft kiss to your palm before giving you a sad look.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

You chuckle, giving her a curious look.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“That you have to go through this pain again,” Natasha replies with regret.

Your expression remains unchanged, a reassuring yet impassive smile gracing your lips.

Natasha sighs sadly, releasing your hand and letting it fall to your side.

“I know this isn’t you, Y/n,” she reveals.

Your smile falters at her words, and your eyes search her face, seeking something before coming to a realization.

Twisting your lips into a disappointed pout, your fingers raise to toy with her collar.

“You could’ve just played along and had a good time with me, Natasha,” you say teasingly before resting your hand above her heart with a raised brow. “You know, before you have to die.”

Natasha presses her lips into a thin line, deepening her frown at your words.

“Is that what he told you to do?” she asks, anger rising at Dreykov. “Seduce me and then kill me after?”

You shrug indifferently, as if unconcerned about the implications of what you were about to be forced to do against your will.

“Well, it was either you or Rumlow, without the killing for him, of course,” you explain casually.

Natasha clenches her fist, seething at the thought of what would’ve happened had she not been the one to come for you first. She’s going to make Dreykov pay for controlling you like this.

“Is that all?” she asks calmly, swallowing her anger so it’s not directed at you.

“No,” you shake your head, giving her a pitying smile.

The cold, uncaring expression looks foreign on your face as you stare at her.

“You see, before I kill you, I was going to tell you the truth.”

You wrap your arms around the back of her neck and pull her closer. Instinctively, Natasha’s hand falls on your waist at the action.

However, the tender embrace brings no warmth or comfort to soothe your cutting words that follow.

“I never believed in you, Natasha,” you begin, your tone icy and ruthless. “You were never going to be a good queen, and it was delusional of you to ever think you could erase all the pain that your family caused.”

Natasha stays silent, letting you speak, as she keeps your gaze with a sad, understanding expression.

Your eyes narrow slightly at not getting the reaction that you expected. With a determined and cold look, you continue, “The truth is…”

You bring your lips closer to whisper the next part in her ear.

“…I've always hated you, Natasha.”

“No, you don’t.”

Your head snaps back in surprise at her immediate response, looking at her face in confusion before a huff of disbelief escapes you.

“There you go again," you say, rolling your eyes. "Thinking you know everything about me.”

Natasha can’t help but chuckle at the statement. She’s been wanting to know everything about you from the moment she met you.

Meeting your eyes with unwavering trust and certainty, Natasha responds confidently.

“You don't want to hurt me.”

There’s an unamused expression on your face now as you glare at her.

“And what makes you so sure?” you ask her.

“Because…” Natasha begins, reaching up to hold your face delicately in her hand. Her thumb moves gently across your cheek to brush away the stray tear that falls from your eye.

“…that's what you told me,” she finishes with a soft smile.

Your expression shifts abruptly, a whirlwind of emotions crossing your face in a split second. First shock, then a brief conflict, then a hard glare.

With a forceful shove, you push Natasha away, catching her off guard. She stumbles backward at your action, landing against the stairs.

Before she can recover, you move swiftly, straddling her and pinning her down as your hand descends towards her, a glint of steel catching the light as you swing the dagger.

Reacting with instinctive speed, Natasha catches your hand, halting its descent, just as the tip of the blade presses lightly at the space above her heart.

Under different circumstances, she would have complimented your skill in knocking her off guard to deliver a finishing blow.

However, from this position, the moonlight of the now clear night sky shines through the large glass windows, casting a soft glow over your features, and Natasha can't help but be captivated by the sight instead, momentarily forgetting her perilous situation.

She knows she should flip your positions and disarm you at some point, but she finds herself unable to break your gaze.

That's when she catches a glimpse of your usual warmth flashing in your eyes, where unshed tears threaten to fall.

Natasha always believed that you are the strongest person she knows, and this time is no different.

Slowly, her grip on your hands loosens, and as she expected, the blade remains in place, suspended just above her heart.

Instead of escaping, Natasha's hand moves to cup your cheek, her touch gentle and reverent.

At that moment, only one thought fills her mind as she gazes up at you, and with a soft exhale, Natasha finally says the words that she's been wanting to tell you.

“I love you, Y/n.”

At her breathless confession, your brows knit together in confusion as a series of conflicting emotions cross your face.

For a moment, there's only silence, broken only by the faint trembling of the dagger in your hand.

Then, with a final, decisive gesture, it slips from your grasp, clattering to the ground.

Immediately, you collapse against Natasha, wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug. A mixture of relief and disbelief fills your voice as your hand lightly hits her shoulder in reprimand.

“You’re unbelievable,” you murmur exasperatedly into the curve of her neck. “That’s what you say when I hold a knife to you?”

Her response is a soft chuckle, tinged with relief and amusement. She returns your embrace, holding you tightly, her next words muffled against your shoulder.

"It's the only thing that came to mind."

You huff at her reply, choosing to not comment further as your arms instinctively pull her closer.

In the safety of her embrace, you try to shake off the lingering sensation of feeling trapped within your mind, recalling the hurtful words you uttered to her.

Before you can gather your thoughts to apologize, a disdainful groan interrupts the fragile peace, drawing both of your attention upwards.

At the top of the staircase, Dreykov sneers down at the two of you.

"Pathetic," he spits out, shaking his head in disgust.

With a motion of his hand, he signals his guards, who materialize from the shadows and advance towards you both.

Reacting swiftly, Natasha pulls herself upright, positioning herself protectively in front of you.

As his guards launch coordinated attacks, Natasha moves with graceful precision, evading their strikes effortlessly.

With a powerful kick, she dispatches one assailant before engaging the other in a one-on-one confrontation.

Confident in her ability to handle them, you turn your attention back to Dreykov, only to see him attempting to flee.

However, he suddenly stops in his tracks, his path blocked by the unexpected appearance of Bucky.

Realizing it was just the old captain standing in his way, Dreykov sneers as he tries to push past him dismissively.

“Don’t just stand there. Go kill her—!”

His command is cut off abruptly as Bucky's hand closes around his throat before forcing him to the edge of the staircase.

Dreykov gasps for breath, a look of surprise crossing his face as he struggles against Bucky's tightening grip.

With one hand clawing at Bucky's hold, his other reaches into his pocket, pulling out an intricate container.

Black powder falls from one of the ends, creating a pile on the floor, as Dreykov’s finger fumbles for the latch at the top.

Spotting the danger and recognizing the substance, you call out a warning to Bucky.

"Watch out!"

Just as your words echo through the tense air, Dreykov flicks open the latch on the container, igniting a spark. With a swift motion, he hurls it to the ground, triggering an explosion of blinding light and billowing smoke.

Amidst the chaos, the clamor of bodies tumbling down the stairs reverberates through the haze, but the thick smoke obscures your vision, disorienting you as you struggle to make sense of the situation.

Coughing and gasping for air amidst the choking fumes, you stagger blindly in search of Natasha.

Your foot collides with something solid, and upon closer inspection, you realize it's the unconscious body of one of the guards, with another lying nearby.

A wave of relief washes over you at the realization that Natasha had won.

However, your relief is short-lived as the sound of steel scraping against the ground sends a shiver down your spine.

"Useless failures," Dreykov's voice echoes through the smoke, his position hidden in the swirling haze.

Frantically searching your surroundings, you strain to pinpoint his location, but the dense smoke obscures your senses.

"Y/n!" Natasha's urgent voice breaks through, sounding closer, and you immediately move towards her voice before finally spotting her silhouette in the distance.

As you go to approach her, another figure emerges swiftly from the shadows behind her, the glint of steel flashing through the smoke.

Without hesitation, you rush forward, pushing Natasha out of the way.

In the next instant, searing pain flares in your abdomen as the dagger plunges into you instead.

Dreykov's eyes widen in surprise at your unexpected presence before twisting in anger.

Ignoring the agony coursing through your body, you meet his gaze with a steely glare of defiance.

"I told you,” you utter through gritted teeth. “I'll never let you hurt her."

Summoning all your remaining strength, you deliver a powerful punch to Dreykov’s face, sending him crashing to the ground with a satisfying thud.

Gradually, the smoke begins to disperse, revealing Natasha on the ground nearby, her wide-eyed gaze locks onto you before drifting down to the blade still embedded in you, comprehension dawning on her features of what you had just done.

With each labored breath, you feel your strength waning from the injury.

Natasha's panicked voice pierces through the ringing in your ear, calling out your name in desperation.

Her hands catch you as your legs finally give way, her warmth enveloping you even as a coldness creeps into your bones.

Struggling to stay conscious, you gaze up at her, your vision blurring at the edges. Her lips move, but the words are now lost to you in the haze of pain.

Thankfully, however, you can still feel Natasha's gentle touch cradling your cheek, mirroring the tender gesture from earlier.

You regain a little energy as you remember that moment of her confession.

That’s right, you realize. Natasha has fulfilled her part of the promise to discuss your feelings, and now, here you are, leaving her without a response.

Determined to convey your feelings, you muster every ounce of willpower to utter her name, but a metallic taste floods your mouth, and you realize with grim understanding that you may not have much time left.

You must have succeeded in calling her though since her eyes immediately move from your wound to lock onto yours with fear.

Unfortunately, that's when black spots start to cloud your vision of her, and you find yourself losing the strength to speak any further. Despite your efforts, you feel yourself slipping away, the edges of consciousness fading.

As you slowly drift into darkness, the rapid rhythm of Natasha's heartbeat echoes against you, a comforting reminder that she's still alive and safe.

However, there is a pang of regret lingering in your heart that you weren’t able to speak the remainder of your words to her. You really wished you had a chance to express your feelings before you go.

To let her know how much you loved her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading and for staying so long with this story! There is one more part left and that will be the final one for this series.

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

Taglist: @lightwhoranoutoflight, @taliiiaasteria, @romanoffprentiss, @canvascoloredin, @silentwolfsstuff, @blacklightsposts, @arcturusseer, @presser24, @dvrkhcld, @jujuu23, @screechcat, @vivs46, @cd-4848, @youneversawmehereooooooo, @pancakefan7529, @confusedspaceotter, @natbelovasblog, @izzy-b09, @iamheartless, @mrsrushman, @fxckmiup, @natty-taffy, @2silverchain, @traveler-at-heart, @autorasexy, @natsxwife, @mviswidow, @slut4johansson, @automaticdinosaurtaco, @jono723, @mousetheorist, @tofu9162, @natsbiggestfan1, @iheartjohansson, @nothanksbye07, @midastouch013

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sixosix · 2 years

Text

indebted | mikage reo

( ? ) reo spends money on someone who refuses to be indebted to anyone, FLUFF I SWEAR

( A/N ) why are my bllk fics literally about meeting again i think i have some strange obsession with this trope. ANW THIS FIC IS SOOO CLICHE but i think reo is cheesy like that

the sky is a pretty shade of blue, birds are chirping sweet songs from where they’re perched on branches, and cherry blossom leaves are floating along the wind; some are even pooling around his feet. love is in the air, one could say. pluck out every element you could see in a high school-inspired love song music video, and you’ll get precisely what reo is experiencing.

but none of those are what reo is looking at right now.

no, not when you’re standing before him, and his pulse is unsteady.

“i like you,” you say. “i want to go out with you.”

reo’s eyes go round, spluttering syllables that are strung together hastily. he settles with a: “w-whuuu…”

the small group of students who decided to tag along with reo all gasped and ooh?. reo doesn’t know why he’s the one feeling mortified, heat crawling up across his cheeks.

you’re staring at him with a fierce expression, refusing to back down and shy away despite the crowd. it’s like you don’t care what they think or say so long as you get your words across. he honestly respects it.

reo scratches the back of his neck, guilty for some unfamiliar reason. he’s gently rejected countless others before, so he’s unsure why he’s so reluctant this time. maybe it’s because you’re looking at him like you know what you want, and it’s making him feel flustered in a way he hasn’t felt before.

“don’t just stand there, reo!” someone butts in, as if it’s his business. as if he’s confessing or being confessed to.

you and reo turn to glare venom at the guy, who shrinks under both your gazes.

reo’s gaze finds yours once again, trying for a comforting smile.

“i’m sorry. i can’t accept your confession,” he murmurs and winces at the feigned cries of the people around him. his heart pangs painfully in his chest when he sees your crestfallen expression. “i really am sorry!” and he is. “i bet you’re nice—“

you hold up a hand, a universal sign to shut the hell up, you’re making it worse, idiot. “it’s fine. you don’t have to say anything else aside from a ‘no’, reo-san.” the smile you give him is pretty painful. or is it painfully pretty? “thank you for your time.”

reo blinks when you swivel around. he feels incredibly horrible, to be frank.

reo watches you leave until you’re out of sight, only snapping out of it when nagi shoulders him to tune back into the laughter of his classmates, teasing him relentlessly about the confession.

“man, are you always this nice to your fans?” one of them snickers. “you’re sick for leading the l/n y/n on.”

reo frowns. “i’m not leading them on, i’m just trying not to be an ass to people who admire me, unlike some people.”

“oooh…”

reo sighs, leaning against nagi’s terrifyingly solid figure. “y/n, huh?” he mumbles.

the hallways are unusually empty today. reo is usually swarmed by students from his class or even others, especially during the hour of lunch break.

there seems to be an influx of students crowding downstairs, though, judging by the faint cheers he can hear all the way from the fourth floor.

someone passes him, brushing his forearm, and reo almost ignores it.

“oh, hi, reo-san!” the voice says, and it snaps him right out of his wondering.

reo blinks, doing a double take. “ah, y/n.”

you skid to a halt, facing him over your shoulder with a pleasantly surprised expression. “you know my name already?”

reo feels caught, somehow. he doesn’t know what to say, so he nods and smoothly switches subjects. “where are you runnin’ off to?”

you don’t move from where you’ve stopped, and reo feels the need to catch up, so he jogs like an obedient dog. the nearly terrifying grin you shoot him does little to cover your amusement. “you’ve been spacing out during class, top of the class? there’s a parade going on right now for the school festival, i’m heading down to watch.”

oh. so that’s where everyone went.

in reo’s defense, he went to the bathroom minutes before break—most likely when the teacher announced anything regarding a parade. and nagi is nowhere to be seen to inform him about it. knowing nagi, he’s hiding away on some random floor’s stairs to play games on his phones quietly.

reo nudges you with an elbow and realizes halfway through that he never asked if you’re even okay with him doing that. he clears his throat, “let me come with you, then.”

“c’mon, pretty boy.” you pick up the pace, and he could’ve tripped on air hearing that. “don’t make me miss out on the fun waiting for a snail like you.”

reo makes a show of scoffing, but he can’t hide the smile in his voice.

you both make your way downstairs, chatting idly all the while. it’s small talk—mindless, almost, but reo finds himself relaxing quickly in your presence like he didn’t just meet you yesterday. like you didn’t just ask him out, and he rejected you yesterday.

“ahh, the stalls are up already?” you frown, scanning the area and onto the line of students swarming the field. “i thought they wouldn’t be serving anything this early.”

“if it’s what you’re worried about, it’ll be my treat,” reo finds himself offering without thinking.

“will it, now?”

minutes later, you two find yourselves walking out of the line of stalls with bags of snacks and street foods (even trinkets you weren’t planning to buy but reo wanted you to have). it was all a blur. reo didn’t know he could start from roaming the hallways to having a nearly empty wallet with you by his side.

blinking incredulously at the heap of bags slung over your forearms, you say, “i’ll pay next time.”

reo shrugs, pleased with himself but trying so hard not to show it. “it’s fine.”

“what? no, it’s not fine. i’ll pay you back,” you say, stern. there is no room for dispute.

“it’s really no big deal…” and it’s not. he gets enough money to fill up his wallet easily once more. upon seeing your glare, he concedes. “fine, do what you want.”

your bright smile at that response makes him realize something about you.

reo is ashamed to say it, but ever since yesterday, he’s been noticing you more and more often.

it’s embarrassing to admit that he hasn’t paid attention before, but it’s even more embarrassing to realize that he keeps finding you everywhere—it’s almost incredulous to think that he has never met you earlier.

what’s worse is that reo is excited when he does catch sight of you.

images of your moment with him come to him in a flash, and he almost fucks it all up by approaching you out of nowhere—he could, but he doesn’t know what you still think of him after that. he, for one, would feel as if he’s being pitied when the person he confessed his feelings to starts coming up to him without any good reason.

that’s the thing: reo can’t think of a good reason.

“stop overthinking,” is all nagi says to reo’s mindless rambling of his current crisis (read: above). “you shouldn’t look too deep into it, idiot. if y/n can confess to you just because, then y/n can tell you to screw off if you make things weird.”

that is surprisingly a piece of very reasonable and thought-provoking advice.

“okay,” reo says. it makes sense.

he doesn’t have to do anything, though, because nagi looks up from his phone, sees something, and tells him reo can just text him what happens because he’s heading straight home.

“what? what? where are you going, nagi?”

“reo-san—” reo jumps in surprise, “—sorry, did i scare you? haha, that was cute!” he turns and sees you grinning up at him, impudent like you hear precisely what is going in his head.

“y/n,” he says, horrified to feel sudden warmth crawling up his cheeks. how do you keep doing that? “when did you…”

“are you free? i still have to pay you back, don’t i?”

he wants to say that if you feel like you owe something, you don’t, and reo doesn’t care about the money he spent on you, seeing how much fun you had yesterday. yet the excitement evident in your voice kills off the rebuttal on the tip of his tongue.

reo finds himself laughing, mostly out of disbelief. “alright.”

you beam, his expression softens, and the sunset is beautiful this afternoon.

“come on, i know this really good place,” you tell him, reaching for his hand like it’s natural. reo’s eye catches on the charm dangling on your bag. his heart does something weird when he realizes it’s what he picked out for you. “you mentioned you like ichibo steak yesterday, right? you’re in luck.”

reo should really get checked up. he’s been feeling incredibly warm lately.

you two decide to ride a taxi. reo texts nagi that he is out on a platonic—emphasized platonic, in bold, italic, and even underlined—date with you, as friends, and all because you felt guilty. the sticker nagi sends in return says he does not care.

along the way, you two fall into easy conversation once again. reo feels so relaxed that he doesn’t realize until later how wide his grin is. and when he does, it’s when he starts to notice everything else, too.

“it’s weird! i just passed them, and they gave me weird looks. i wanted to square up and ask, what? you wanna fight? i would beat them, no doubt,” you say, huffing. reo chuckles a little. at the sound, you pout. “what’re you laughing at? you don’t believe me?”

“of course i believe you.”

you grin. “that’s right.”

the car stops, and you pay for the ride before reo could even blink and lead him outside. your enthusiasm is endearing, reo has to admit. it feels like you actually like him and like being with him.

the gentle hold you have on him, the way your fingers are absentmindedly rubbing circles on his skin, the way his brain is melting out of his ears—when did he get so soft like this? it’s insane.

it probably means he is happy to have you as a friend, right?

in a seat for four people, reo pointedly decides to sit next to you because sitting across would make it look weird—it will feel like an actual date, and reo is not sure how he can handle the thought of that.

you don’t question it, and reo feels embarrassed to think you probably think he’s so strange that you don’t blink at it. instead, you tug him closer by the sleeve, pointing at his favorite food with sparkling eyes. it’s adorable. you’re so damn excited that it’s rubbing off on him.

reo’s mouth again runs off before his brain can catch up. “are you alright with us hanging out like this? after…”

you understand immediately. reo can’t quite see your expression properly because you’re leaning down to study the menu; however, your answer seems unfazed: “i don’t mind. i like you, don’t i? you already knew that, so that’s a silly question.”

you turn to him, smiling. “of course i’d like being with you, too.”

“ah.” reo’s face is on fire. “so… why did you even like me?”

“hm.” you make a motion of rubbing your index finger and thumb together. “money.”

reo eyes you with a scrunched nose, speechless.

you laugh brightly. “kidding! kidding! kind of.” reo nudges your knee with his as a warning. “okay, okay. i thought you’re cute, alright?”

“really?”

“really.”

it’s almost enough to make him forget how your face fell when he rejected you. almost.

is it normal to think about that so much?

(no. the answer is no, obviously. but reo doesn’t want to think about the reason why it’s a no.)

reo slouches against the seat, his arm brushing against your side. “oh.”

“that was so good,” reo groans. he burps inelegantly afterward, laughing along with you. “fuck, you were right. i’m coming back here again.”

you snort, waving your fork around. “i told you! i’m never wrong, don’t doubt me about anything ever again.” there’s sauce on the side of your mouth; reo brushes it off with his thumb without thinking, as if in a trance.

you pause, going still. you’re staring at him wide-eyed, flustered, and reo finds himself thinking that he likes that look on you.

he snaps out of it the second after, blushing profusely. “sorry, i don’t—” to save himself from explaining, he calls for the waiter for the bill instead. real smooth, reo. did it like a real rich kid.

“hey, wait, why are you paying?” you ask, frowning.

“you already paid for the ride earlier, remember? you don’t owe me anything right now, so let me pay.”

“reo—”

the waiter comes, reo scans the receipt quickly, and slips money in. he also tells them to keep the change, to which the waiter starts bowing and thanking him for, which probably means he paid them more than he’s supposed to.

you slump, bottom lip jutted out. “now i’m indebted to you again.”

reo grins. “i know.”

you become something else to him entirely. more than friends, though not quite lovers. tip-toeing lines, ready to risk it all, but never crossing over.

reo laments this to nagi, who he realizes suddenly becomes an expert.

“for someone who didn’t hesitate to reject y/n, you’re quick to regret it every day,” nagi remarks. “don’t be stupid, reo. the answer is right there— oh, i lost.” nagi is sad now, not that reo can see it because he’s having a crisis.

by the time reo realizes that what he feels for you is more than a simple crush, it’s far too late. he’s on the bus, your last message with him is a goodbye, and his life is flipped upside down.

TIMESKIP

reo sits alone on a bench in the middle of a public park, holding a popsicle and checking his watch occasionally. his knee bounces, impatient, but his last text will stay as: i’ll wait for you no matter how long.

he sighs, his head slowly tilting up to face the sky.

it’s as beautiful as he remembers it—the day he regrets more than anything. all that’s left is for birds to chirp and leaves to dance around his feet.

he had to reject his friends’ offer to go out, as it’s not often blue lock members are given off days. however, it’s a small price to pay if he gets to see you again.

“i’m here!”

reo nearly jolts in surprise, his whole body instinctively preening at the familiar melody of your voice. he turns, and his heart bursts.

it’s been so long. too long. yet every detail about you is still the same as he daydreams about when it gets a little too lonely: from your smile to the way you’re looking at him with overwhelming fondness. there’s no mistaking it—the happiness tickling his chest says more than words could.

he is so fucking in love.

you stand there, a little nervous and hesitant like you’re ready to run with one wrong move.

so reo won’t fuck this up. not anymore or ever.

“y/n,” he breathes, tugging you by the arm to pull you closer. “i missed you.”

“i missed you, too,” you say, melting in his grasp. “i didn’t think you’d— i didn’t expect you to still want to see me after high school.”

“don’t be stupid,” he chides, gently flicking your forehead. “of course i’d want to see you.” your gaze shifts to the plastic he’s holding in his other hand, and he almost smacks his face for forgetting. “right, here. i bought you ice cream because it’s a bit hot today. thought you’d like it.”

“so thoughtful,” you coo, poking his cheek before gratefully taking the popsicle from him.

he pats the vacant spot next to him. it took all his willpower and rationality to not gesture his lap.

“um,” you fidget, tongue darting out quickly to lick on the icy treat. reo is not getting distracted, he’s not. “what was the question you said you wanted to ask? that text almost made me want to chuck my phone across the room, you know? we haven’t talked for months, and that’s the first thing you send me.”

“sorry,” reo can’t help but chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. “i just want to do this before i regret anything again.”

“you have regrets with me?” you frown, hurt.

reo nods, and fuck it, reaches out to cup your chin. there’s a smidge of melted ice cream; he swipes it away with a thumb. “the day we met,” he says distractedly.

there’s a moment where you can only look at him incredulously, a little offended. but understanding dawns on your face soon after. “that was the day i confessed.”

he nods, proud. “you’re still indebted to me, aren’t you?”

“yes? you made sure you were the last one to pay for anything when you won me that plushie at the arcade a week before you left,” you recall fondly.

“alright, then.” reo takes your free hand to pull you closer to him, stunning you to silence. the popsicle starts melting at the sides—it could be from the heat or from how intense reo is staring at you. “pay me back by going out with me. as your boyfriend.”

THIS IS SO RUSHED I KNOWWW but take it and appreciate it please i dont even kno where the reo brainworms came from

#606:BLLK #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage x you #x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #mikage reo imagines #mikage reo fluff #bllk fanfic #blue lock fluff

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honey-crypt · 26 days

Note

slowburn elliott x farmer please please please please... (falls to my knees) strangers to mutuals to friends to lovers (explodes)

i only ask for angst to comfort and a lot of romantic tension go crazy w this if u feel like it

a/n: y'all... i present to you... my magnus opus... 3 days of work... maybe 50 or so hours dedicated to this... please... please enjoy

wc: 10.1k

features: slow burn (strap in), mentions of war, strangers to lovers, romance that will make you melt, minor spoilers for year 2 of sdv and sdv expanded, elliott cries a lot, imposter syndrome, elliott is a SAPPY SAP OF A MAN WHO LOVES YOU LOTS, i pull from my own sdv worldbuilding/elliott lorebuilding for this

summary: a box of cereal. the spirit eve's maze. a rowboat's maiden voyage. these are just a few moments that define your love story with elliott.

★ chapters in a story called life - an elliott x farmer slow burn piece ★

Chapter 1: First Encounters

A well-manicured hand reached out for the box of cereal at the same time as you, calloused knuckles brushing against your hand. In one swift motion, the hand plucked the last cereal off the shelf. You let out a surprised gasp and whipped your head towards the cereal thief, “Hey!” you exclaimed, ready to reprimand them but your words fell short at the sight of the individual in question.

Long fiery red hair draped over their shoulders and emerald eyes bore into your soul, as the cereal thief adjusted their grip on the box, “I apologize,” their voice hummed out at a warm baritone pitch, “You seemed… to be struggling with getting the cereal box. I wanted to assist,” the man, at least you assumed them to be a man with their chiseled jawline and overall physique, handed the box of cereal over to you, “Apologies for any miscommunication, I simply wished to help,” his word choice was eloquent, unnecessarily eloquent.

“Oh, uh,” you took the cereal box and dropped it in your shopping basket, “Thanks.”

“Of course,” the stranger flashed you their pearly whites, “Have a pleasant day,” he walked off to the next aisle in Pierre’s General Store. You looked back at your box of cereal then went about your merry way, finishing up your grocery shopping for that week.

Chapter 2: Run-in at the Beach

The local fisherman Willy ordered a bundle of parsnips from your farm and you were able to harvest them today, your first of many orders set for delivery. You tied up the sack of parsnips with a pretty red ribbon and dropped them in your bag, ready to make the trek through town to deliver your vegetables and produce.

After running through town like a headless chicken and delivering orders to the likes of Pierre, Gus, and Jodi, you crossed over the bridge and onto the beach. Despite living in Pelican Town for almost a week, you never stepped foot on the beach until now. The ebb and flow of the waves greeted you, as you approached Willy on the nearby pier. The old fisher released his rod back in, no fish on the hook, when he saw you walking up, “Ahoy, (Y/N). I take it that yer got me order of parsnips?”

“Yes, sir!” you gave him a salute and pulled out the sack of parsnips before handing it over to Willy, “Hope they’re up to your standards.”

“If yer anything like yer dear old grandpa, I’m sure that these parsnips will be golden,” the fisherman reassured you with a belly laugh, “Here’s a few extra G for yer troubles. Go get yerself a nice drink at the saloon later,” he placed about 500G in your hand, “I best be gettin’ back to fishin’, you have a good day, alright?”

“Thanks, Willy, I’ll do my best,” you gave Willy a nod before exiting the pier. Stepping back on shore, you inhaled a fresh breath of sea air and stretched out your legs, sore from running around for so long. You were about to make your way back to town when you noticed a familiar redhead by a fire pit to your right. The redhead sat by the fire pit, a towel beneath him and his shoes set aside. The sea breeze ruffled his ponytail, as the man peered silently out into the ocean.

I shouldn’t bother him, you reasoned with yourself, He seems busy. You turned your heel towards the cobblestone pathway, only to hear the redhead call out to you, “Oh! Hello, there!” Shit, okay, now I have to talk to him. You turned your attention back on the man on the shore, “Er, hello there.”

His eyes fell onto your delivery bag, “Ah!” he broke out into a smile, “The new farmer we’ve all been expecting and whose arrival has sparked many a conversation,” you made your way to his side and plopped down next to him, “How did you know that I’m the new farmer?”

“Your bag sports your farm’s name,” the man pointed to the embroidered letters on your grandpa’s old bag, clearly showcasing the name of the farm. Your face warmed up with mild embarrassment and you quickly fanned your cheeks, “Oh, yes… makes sense,” Yoba, I’m so- ugh! Silly? Yeah, I’m silly and trying not to make a fool of myself in front of such a… handsome? Yeah, he’s handsome, alright. Handsome man. Okay, please stop yapping-

“We briefly met at Pierre’s earlier this week but I never had the opportunity to introduce myself,” the well groomed man broke you out of your internal monologue and extended a hand to you, “I’m Elliott. I live by the little cabin on the beach,” the man- no, Elliott- gestured to the cabin behind the two of you, its exterior weathered from the elements, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You eyed his hand and grasped it, surprisingly rough to the touch. The two of you exchanged a handshake, as you introduced yourself to Elliott, “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Chapter 3: Writer’s Block

You stood outside Elliott’s cabin, clutching a bag of freshly grown potatoes in your hand. Another day, another round of deliveries; at least, you got to deliver to a friendly face. You knocked on the door, only for it to slowly creak open. Cautiously, you entered the cabin and called out to the redhead, “Hello? Elliott, are you home?”

The cabin was surprisingly under-decorated and somewhat shoddy, a lone bed in the far corner of the room with a piano beside it. In the corner closest to you, Elliott hunched over his desk, the sound of pen scrubbing echoing throughout the cabin’s old walls. You called out to Elliott once more, “Elliott?” he perked up at the sound of your voice, “Ah! (Y/N)!” he rose from his desk, “What a surprise to have you in my…” his voice trailed off, “…humble abode! What do I owe the pleasure of your visit to?”

“Just dropping off your order,” you set the bag of potatoes on the closest available space, “Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, the usual,” hummed Elliott, “I’m attempting to narrow down how to address this one scene in my novel.”

“You’re a writer?” you raised your eyebrows, trying to see if you can catch a glimpse of his work. Elliott hovered by his desk and brushed a few loose papers over his work, “Yes, yes I am. It’s a bit of a funny story, but I actually moved to Pelican Town to pursue my writing career.”

“Oh, really? How come?” you asked.

Elliott placed his hands on the desk and leaned on it for support, “I supposed a life of solitude would impose some… literary genius upon me, like the great Ernest Hemingway. Yet, I’m at a standstill—” he cleared his throat, “Well, in all honesty, I’ve been at a standstill for the past two or so weeks with this one scene and I’m afraid that I’m losing steam.”

You frowned, “Yikes, that really sucks,” you moved closer to the writing desk, “Maybe you need a fresh set of eyes? Like a new perspective.”

Elliott’s eyes twinkled at your suggestion, “A most excellent idea!” he hurriedly gathered up his notes and shoved them into your hands, “Alright, the scene I’m at an impasse with is when Clara confronts Horatio about his late lover. I’m not sure if I should go with a tame heart to heart or something along the lines of a miscommunication gone awry.”

You read through the passages, familiarizing yourself with Elliott’s work. He wrote in a style similar to the aforementioned Hemingway, but his vivid imagery and passionate dialogue left you with a sense of awe and a desire for more. You got to the scene Elliott was stuck on, thumbing between earlier scenes and scanning the pages. Finally, you spoke up and suggested to Elliott, “Given Clara’s kind demeanour and Horatio’s sensitivity, I would go with the heart to heart option.”

Elliott broke out into a grin, “Splendid! You’re absolutely right!” he grabbed the papers and set them back on the desk, “Many thanks for your assistance, (Y/N). I truly appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you flashed him a smile and a thumbs up, “Happy to help.”

Chapter 4: The Flower Dance

You stood by the assortment of refreshments and finger foods, nursing a glass of sparkling cider. Every few minutes, you would mindlessly adjust your flower brooch or take a sip from your glass. Laughter and chatter filled the air, as the residents of Pelican Town joined the day’s festivities.

You scanned the crowd and found Elliott by the river, standing beside Leah and talking about something, Probably art. Not wanting to remain idle for another moment longer, you made a beeline towards the pair of redheads and greeted them nonchalantly, “Hey, Leah. Hey, Elliott.”

“Hi, (Y/N)!” the artist returned the greeting while Elliott waved at you, “Good day, (Y/N). Are you enjoying the festivities?”

“As much as I can without dancing,” you hummed, finishing off your glass. Elliott nodded, “You make a good point. This is the Flower Dance, there’s not much planned beyond dancing.”

“Speaking of dancing, are you two dancing with anyone?” you asked the pair of redheads.

“We’ll be dancing together like we did last year,” answered Elliott. For some reason, your chest tightened at his response, but you brushed it off as allergies. Elliott fixed his tie, “We best be on our way, Leah. The dance will be starting soon.”

“I’ll catch up with you in a sec!” replied Leah, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I wanna chat with (Y/N) for a bit.”

“Okay,” the writer smiled at the two of you, “It’s always a pleasure to see you, (Y/N), and Leah, I’ll be in the main area whenever you’re ready,” he walked off without another word, as you stared longingly at his fading figure. Leah nudged you in the side, “You should dance with him instead.”

“I should?” you blinked, “But you two already agreed on dancing with each other.”

“I don’t mind passing the torch to you,” the artist nudged you once more. Yet, you shook your head and answered, “I rather not. I’m not much of a dancer anyway.”

Leah puffed out her cheeks and exhaled before stating, “You two would make a cute couple.”

You eyed Elliott in the distance and mulled over Leah’s words, “You think so?” you found yourself smiling in unison with Elliott, as the writer engaged in light banter with Willy.

“Yeah,” the artist nodded, “I think so.”

Chapter 5: Drinking Buddies

Friday nights at the Stardrop Saloon were always the most rambunctious, at least two thirds of Pelican Town packed inside. You entered the saloon, hungry for a meal after a long day’s work, and saw a familiar figure in a blue shirt and suspenders. Elliott turned his head and grinned at the sight of you, “(Y/N), my friend! Please, have a seat with me.”

You took a seat beside Elliott at the bar, “Hey El,” the writer’s grin grew in size at the nickname, “You enjoying your Friday evening?”

“Absolutely,” answered Elliott, “Well, I must admit that it has gotten better since you arrived. It’s always a joy to see you.”

Your face heated up at his words, but you brushed it off with a laugh, “You’re sweet.”

“Of course,” the writer responded. Elliott then waved Gus over, “Hello, Gus, my friend! May I have two beers?” to which the bartender nodded, “Two beers, coming right up,” and poured two pints of beer from the tap, “Enjoy!”

“Thank you,” the redhead slid over some G to pay for the beers, enough leftover to provide Gus and Emily with some solid tips. Elliott passed one of the beers to you, “For you.”

“Why, aren’t you generous?” you chuckled, happily accepting the beer. You clutched the pint tight in your hand and Elliott raised his up towards you, “I propose a toast,” the writer announced. You held yours up, “To what?” you asked. Elliott smiled, “To our friendship.”

Your heart skipped a beat and your expression nearly soured- you weren’t sure why, though- but nonetheless, you nodded in agreement, “To our friendship,” and clinked glasses with Elliott.

As the night went on and after a few more beers, you and Elliott were completely hammered. You could hold your liquor, of course, but the sight of Elliott merrily dancing and humming a tune made you break out in laughter and let loose. He’s cute when he’s silly.

Chapter 6: Dance of the Moonlight Jellies

You returned to the pier for, what local scientist Demetrius referred to as, an ‘utmost special occasion’. The occasion in question? It happened to be the annual event where moonlight jellyfish would visit the pier. You had vague memories of experiencing the event when you were a little kid with your grandpa, you remembered the fond look he had when the jellyfish would pass by.

You approached the edge of the pier near Willy’s shop and noticed Elliott looking out into the sea with that same longing look you saw the first time you properly met the tall redhead. Gently, you tapped him on the shoulder, “Hi, Elliott.”

“Oh, hello, (Y/N),” his tone was much more… serious? No, it was somewhat sad. You frowned, “What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited for the jellies?”

“I am,” he responded, as the summer breeze ruffled his ponytail, “I’m excited to the point of grief,” your frown deepened and you questioned Elliott, “What do you mean?”

Elliott scooted over so you had more room to stand, you stood by him while he explained, “We pollute the world so much, (Y/N), especially here with Joja… I see Joja CDs and Colas washed up on shore all the time and I fear the worst,” his eyes glistened with pain, “I fear that we won’t see these magnificent creatures unless we take action and hold Joja accountable for their actions.”

You let out a low hum of agreement, it reminded you of your days at Joja Co. and the stories you heard from your coworkers about the higher ups bypassing environmental protections with some hush money. It was part of the reason why you left Joja, other than the fact that it was sucking the life out of you. The day you left Joja Co. was the day you freed yourself from the chains of society. Just like Grandpa wanted.

“I’m sure we can,” you offered reassurance to Elliott, “I believe in us, I believe that we ultimately make the right decision.”

Elliott nodded, “Thank you, (Y/N),” he looked back at the ocean, “I hope so.”

You were about to retort when Lewis announced that the event was starting, turning your attention to the mayor. Lewis released the little boat towards the sea, you watched with bated breath for the jellyfish to arrive. Your hand brushed against Elliott’s, as the town witnessed the Moonlight Jellies appear. Elliott’s pinkly slowly reached out for yours, you timidly locked pinkies with the writer, as you enjoyed the sight of the beautiful jellies.

Maybe, one day you’d have the courage to hold his hand.

Chapter 7: Roadblocks

Elliott was a no-show to your weekly outing to the Stardrop Saloon and it left you concerned. He was always so punctual and he always told you ahead of time if he couldn’t make it to an event. You worried that he was sick so you left the saloon and headed to the clinic.

The overhead bell in the door chimed when you entered, signaling your arrival to Harvey. The town doctor gave you a wave, “Hello, (Y/N),” he greeted you, “How are you today? Are you feeling unwell? Injured?”

“No, no! I’m okay!” you explained, “I was just wondering if you had any over-the-counter medicine. I think Elliott might be sick.”

“Oh!” the doctor let out a relieved sigh, “Well, I’m glad you’re well. Let me see what I got in stock,” he left the waiting room of the clinic and after a few moments, Harvey returned with a box of medicine, “I have this generic medicine in stock. It should help with most symptoms of illness.”

“Thanks, Dr. Harvey,” you handed him some G, to which Harvey gave you the medicine in exchange, “Have a good one.”

“You, too,” the doctor replied, as he put the G in the front desk’s cash register, “And remember to stay healthy! I’m here if you need anything.”

You flashed him a thumbs up and exited the clinic, heading off to Elliott’s cabin with a determined step in your stride. Upon arriving at the cabin, you knocked on the door, “Elliott?” you called out to your friend, “Elliott, it’s me. Are you alright?”

You heard shuffling and slowly, the door creaked open to reveal a dishevelled Elliott. His usual tan was replaced by a washed out pale, as if he hadn’t stepped outside his cabin in days. He sported heavy eye bags and an exhausted expression, “Hello, (Y/N)…” the writer rubbed his eyes, “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“This hour?” you blinked with bewilderment, “El, it’s 5pm. What time do you think it is?”

“Oh, dear,” he let out a weary chuckle, “I must have the times mixed up. I apologize, but I should go back to work. I’ll be free to chat another day,” the redhead proceeded to shut the door, but you stopped it with your foot, “Elliott,” your voice was strained with worry, “You missed our saloon hangout. You never miss an event without telling me,” you held up the medicine, “So I was worried that you got sick… I got you medicine.”

Elliott gawked at the sight of your worried expression and the box of medicine, “Oh, (Y/N), I apologize… I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m not sick or anything, I just have been so wrapped up in my work that I lost track of time.”

“Elliott,” you pushed the door open with your foot, desperate to reach out to your friend, “When’s the last time you got any sleep? Yoba, when’s the last time you went outside?”

Elliott’s freckled cheeks turned red at your questions, “I, er…” he stepped back and allowed you passage inside. The inside of the cabin was dimly lit, minus the light at Elliott’s writing desk. His trash can was overfilled with crumpled up papers, broken quills, and empty bottles of ink. You set the medicine by his nightstand and asked Elliott, “How long have you been writing?”

“I lost track of time,” he answered, taking a seat at his desk. Elliott took out a fresh quill and bottle of ink, dipping the quill into the ink and writing. Yet, the quill snapped and the man who prided himself on his elegance let out a stream of curses. He shoved the papers aside and laid his head on the desk, utterly defeated. You frowned deeply and placed your hand on Elliott’s back, rubbing it tenderly, “El… Talk to me. What’s been going on?”

A soft sniffle reached your ears, as Elliott lifted his head up and exposed his watery eyes to you, “(Y/N), it’s awful. I’m awful!” he turned his body towards you and hugged your waist, “I can’t write for- I can’t write for shit, (Y/N)!” his cursing caught you off guard, but you made no comment, as the writer continued to lament, “It’s been almost two years and I haven’t completed this damn book! I- I-” he buried his face into your shirt and sobbed, “I want to give up, (Y/N). I want to throw it all away.”

You held the back of Elliott’s head in your hand and stroked it, as the redhead cried his heart out. Yoba, how it broke your heart to see him in such… agony. You remained silent while he cried, wanting to give him time. Soon, the sobs subsided and Elliott pulled away from you, his cheeks stained with tears, “I- I apologize,” he looked flustered, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Hey,” you cupped his face in your hands and playfully squeezed his cheeks, “You’re my friend- Yoba, you’re one of my best friends. You’re allowed to lean on me for support, you’re allowed to cry in my presence,” you released your hold on his cheeks, “I’m here for you.”

Elliott sniffled and wiped away any remaining tears, “You truly are my muse,” he mumbled under his breath. Your chest tightened at his comment, “Huh?” you asked. Elliott’s eyes widened, not realizing that he made that comment aloud, “Oh, uhm- Apologies, it was nothing.”

“Oh,” you did your best to hide your disappointment. Maybe I misheard? “You need a break,” you changed the subject, “You can’t keep pushing yourself when you’re so low on steam,” you gave the writer a pat on the shoulder, “So how about you change your clothes and meet me outside, okay? We’re going to the saloon.”

Elliott nodded in confirmation, “That sounds like a marvelous idea. I’ll just be a moment,” he got up from his writing desk and walked off to his dresser. You took that as your cue to leave the cabin, wanting to give the redhead privacy to change. Although, I wouldn’t mind looking- you smacked your cheeks together, Hey! Don’t think that! You then proceeded to leave the cabin, not wanting to be consumed by thoughts of seeing your best friend naked.

Chapter 8: Spirit’s Eve

Jack-o’-lanterns and other spooky decor lined the pathway into the town square, as you entered Pelican Town for Spirit’s Eve. You dressed up as an old-timey sailor, a simple but classical costume. The town square was buzzing with chatter and the occasional creak of… skeleton bones? You peered out into the distance and sure enough, there were two skeletons in a cage.

To your surprise, one of the onlookers happened to be Elliott, dressed up in a costume that resembled the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland. I didn’t realize he was into the spooky. You waltzed up to him and tapped him on the shoulder, “Hey, El. Enjoying the display?”

Elliott whipped his body around to face you, his face deathly pale, “Er, I don’t believe I am enjoying the display,” he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “I mean to alarm you, but I think those are real skeletons.”

You stifled back a snort, “Oh, yeah?” you eyed the skeletons, as they shuffled about the cage, “I think so, too.”

Elliott audibly gulped and appeared to be on the verge of fainting, “Oh, dear. I think I may need a drink. Care to join me?”

“I would be honored,” you replied. The two of you walked off to the assortment of fall-themed foods and drinks. Elliott grabbed himself a glass of pumpkin ale while you got some apple cider. He slammed the drink back in one or two gulps and exhaled in satisfaction, “That hits the spot,” he poured himself another pumpkin ale, “I needed something to take the edge off after seeing those… creatures,” he shivered.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a scaredy cat,” you hummed, taking a sip from your glass of apple cider. Elliott pouted, “It’s perfectly reasonable to be cautious around creatures of the undead,” he protested to you. In exchange, you let out a snort and stated, “It’s okay to be a scaredy cat.”

Elliott rolled his eyes and took another swing of his ale, “I’ll prove to you that I’m not a scaredy cat!” he proclaimed. You eyed him up with curiosity, “Oh, yeah? How so, tough guy?” his cheeks were flushed at your usage of tough guy and he responded, “By completing the maze! I hear that it’s especially spooky,” the redhead pointed to the maze in the distance. He was right, it did look especially spooky.

“Wanna make this a bet?” you offered to Elliott. The writer’s eyes twinkled with excitement, “Depends on the bet, all I ask is that there’s no skinny dipping involved. You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I had to do that.”

Oh, I can imagine, “First one to finish the maze gets an IOU from the loser,” you proposed the bet to Elliott, “Other than skinny dipping,” you added on. Elliott flashed you his signature smile, “That sounds wonderful,” he finished his ale and discarded the glass in the washing bin, “One, two, three, go!” the writer sprinted off, leaving you in the dust, “Hey!” you yelled, trying to finish your cider as quickly as you could so you could run after him.

Soon, you found yourself in the dreaded maze, thick but neatly trimmed bushes towering before you. You passed by a few other townies in your quest to complete the maze, such as Harvey and Abigail. After confronting a few dead ends, you were positive that the area where you found Sam in had a way. The blond mentioned something off about the nearby bush, perhaps that was the key to beating Elliott.

Footsteps echoed throughout the maze, as the man in question showed up behind you, “It appears that we’re tied,” he stated, “Yet, there also appears to be another dead end.”

“I don’t think so,” you beckoned Elliott to follow you. You approached the bush near the left side of the maze and patted around the area. Your hand suddenly slipped through an opening in the bush and you grinned, “Found it!” you immediately ran through the opening, Elliott hot on your heels. You weaved and bobbed through the terrain, laughing up at a storm.

However, you failed to notice a tree root on the path and tripped over it, barely twisting your body in time so you landed on your back and not your face. Elliott couldn’t stop himself in time and promptly fell on top of you, slamming the palms of his hands into the ground so he didn’t crush you under his weight. Time seemed to pause, as you and Elliott locked eyes with one another, so painfully close. Your eyes drifted down to his lips and you swore that he did the same. You were so close, you were so very close.

“Are you okay?” Elliott asked, as he pushed himself off the ground and back onto his feet, much to your disappointment. You were so close, “I’m okay,” you answered. Elliott then extended a hand to you and pulled you up from the ground, you stumbled a bit but Elliott caught you in time before you could fall again. Yoba, he was so warm and gentle, it was as if you were hugging a teddy bear.

“Be careful,” he told you, “I don’t want you to get hurt,” your heart fluttered at his words, “O- Okay,” you stammered a bit, “I’ll try not to.”

“Let’s try to finish the maze,” the writer released you from the embrace. You nodded in agreement and the two of you resumed your journey through the maze in silence. Finally, after what felt like hours, you two arrived at the end of the maze, where a treasure chest laid before you. Elliott gestured to the chest, “You should have it. After all, you were the one who found the opening that got us here.”

“Are you sure?” you questioned the writer. He gave you a smile in confirmation, “I’m positive.”

You approached the treasure chest and opened it, pulling out the prize. It was a golden pumpkin! Oh how it shined so beautifully under the moonlight. You showed the golden pumpkin to Elliott, “Look here! Isn’t this neat?”

“Very neat!” he laughed, “What a wonderful prize,” the writer then pointed to a nearby mine cart, “I believe that might be our ticket out of here.”

You hopped into the mine cart and noticed there was enough room for you, “Wanna ride with me?” you asked. Elliott shook his head, “No, it’s alright. I’ll take it when it comes back.”

You did your best to hide your sadness at his rejection and responded, “Alrighty… I’ll see you later, then,” you activated the mine cart and rode back to the outside of the maze. You considered waiting for Elliott to come back, but ultimately decided against it. You needed to go home, you needed space… so you left.

After some time, Elliott returned to the outside of the maze, eager to see you. Yet, to his surprise, you were nowhere to be seen. He frowned upon the realization that you left early and went over to grab his bag so he could leave, as well. As Elliott left the festival, his bag’s zipper opened a bit, revealing a small bouquet of flowers nestled inside.

Chapter 9: My Muse

Things were tense between you and Elliott ever since the incident in the maze during Spirit’s Eve. Each time you would hang out or see one another, the air would be… off. Yet, neither of you would address it, much to the annoyance of Leah, who happened to know both sides of the story and was sworn to secrecy about the crushes. Poor Leah, oh how she just wanted to slam you two’s faces together so you could make up and make out.

You knew that Leah was right, though; you had to confess sooner or later, but the idea of getting rejected by Elliott consumed any confidence you had about asking him out. Nonetheless, you bought the bouquet from Pierre’s, the traditional gift used to ask a person to be your partner in Stardew Valley. You kept the bouquet fresh with water and plant food, not wanting it to die out before you could give it to Elliott.

You weren’t sure how this crush started nor how it flourished to the point where your mind was plagued with Elliott almost everyday. Does he feel the same or am I just a dumbass for wanting him to feel the same? That was the question on your mind since Spirit’s Eve.

You left your farmhouse early one morning and found the flag up on your mailbox, indicating that you had mail. Setting your scythe aside, you headed over to the mail and opened it, collecting the letters inside. You thumbed through the letters, seeing one from Pierre and another from Jodi. However, you stopped when you saw a letter with all too fancy handwriting and a red wax seal on it, Elliott wrote me a letter? you carefully opened the envelope and read its contents.

Dearest (Y/N),

I’m delighted to announce that I finally finished my novel, Camelia Station! I would be the utmost grateful if you were to attend my book reading today, at 3pm in the library. If you can’t, I understand. You’re a busy person, after all. Nonetheless, I hope you can come.

— Elliott

You grinned ear to ear at his use of ‘Dearest’, he wrote like a Victorian noble. Your eyes darted to the words underneath Elliott’s signatures, eyes wide as you read.

P.S. I have a surprise for you.

A surprise? your mind ran through all the possibilities of what it could be, Could it be him confessing to me? you shook your head, Maybe not… but this is a good chance for me to, though. You looked down at your watch and set an alarm for a quarter to three, plenty of time to get from the farm to the library. With that all out of the way, you then went about your chores for the day.

After hours of hard labor, your alarm went off. You ran into your farmhouse and wiped off any sweat or grime from your body, spraying yourself in body mist to conceal the smell. On your way out, you grabbed your bag and the bouquet, neatly tucking it inside the bag.

By the time you arrived at the library, most of the town was inside, presumably for Elliott’s book reading. Yet, the man of the hour was nowhere to be seen. You scanned the room and found Leah near the front, so you slid up beside her, “Hey Leah,” you adjusted your grip on your bag, “Have you seen Elliott?”

“I did earlier,” she answered, “I think he went to the bathroom, but he’s been gone for a while.”

“Can you hold this for a second? I’ll go find him,” you passed your bag off to Leah and made your way to the bathroom. You entered the bathroom and found Elliott by the sink, gripping down on the porcelain. He was muttering something under his breath, you couldn’t make out the words, “El?” you touched his back and he nearly jumped out of his skin, “(Y/N)!” he exclaimed, “Oh, dear, you gave me a fright!”

“I knew you were a scaredy cat,” you jested. Elliott rolled his eyes, just like last time you brought up his tendency for fear. You moved next to Elliott and leaned against the sink, “Why are you hiding in the bathroom?” you asked. Elliott lowered his gaze and mumbled, “I… I’m scared.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” you rested your hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, “It’s your big day. I know you’re gonna do great. Everyone’s here to support you,” the redhead looked back at you, “Are you sure they’re not here to witness my demise?” You stifled back a laugh at his melodramatic question, “I promise that they’re not here to ‘witness your demise’ or anything of the sort.”

“Promise?” he asked, his tone similar to that of a small child. You held up your pinky, “I promise,” and intertwined pinkies with Elliott. The redhead smiled weakly, but nonetheless, he was ready to perform. With you trailing behind him, Elliott entered the main area of the library and greeted everyone with his good old Elliott bravo, “Good afternoon, ladies, gentlemen, and folks! I’m ever so honored to have you all here to celebrate the release of my book, Camelia Station.”

As Elliott babbled about his journey with writing his novel, you returned to your spot with Leah and watched with a fond twinkle in your eye at your friend. Elliott took one last deep breath and announced to the crowd, “Before I read the first chapter, there’s something I need to say…” his eyes fell on you, “I wish to thank my muse… (Y/N),” your heart began to pound like a bass drum, “Without them, I wouldn’t have completed this book. Through every hardship and challenge I faced with this process, (Y/N) was my shining light. I dedicate Camelia Station to them, so please... give them a round of applause.”

The library erupted in applause, but it was white noise to you, as you stared at Elliott in awe. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears and your hand grew clammy, as you slowly melted from the writer’s sweetness. His muse… I’m his muse.

The applause slowly died down and Elliott seized the opportunity to begin the reading, “Chapter One… Your ticket, sir? Ticket collector Gozman extended a gloved hand towards the young commuter. Ah, yes. I have it right here, he replied, reaching into his coat pocket. Mortified, he discovered that the ticket was missing…”

You listened with a keen ear to Elliott’s reading, mesmerized by his storytelling. The way he switched voices for each character, the vibrato in his words, the detailed imagery transported into the world of Camelia Station. Elliott was talented, but most importantly, he was having fun with his book.

By the time Elliott finished the chapter, a few townsfolk left the library, most likely returning to their daily responsibilities. The remaining audience applauded the writer for his reading and Elliott took a bow, “Thank you, thank you! I will have signed copies for sale at the front. Once again, thank you for coming, everyone!”

You hovered by the front of the library, watching silently while some individuals like Emily and Gus bought a signed copy of Camelia Station from Elliott. Once the crowd dispersed, you approached Elliott and flashed him a cheeky grin, “See, I told you that there was nothing to worry about.”

“You were right,” the writer replied, “Most times, you are right,” you scoffed mockingly, “Most times?” to which Elliott gave you a little nudge, “You do think sea cucumbers are a lovely fish when in actuality, you’re very very very wrong.”

“C’mon! They’re just little guys!” you huffed, much to Elliott’s amusement. A comfortable silence then fell upon the two of you, as you stared into one another’s eyes. Elliott’s pupils were big as saucers, you were positive that yours were, too.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” you rested your hand against your bag, the bouquet so close to your person. With pink tinted cheeks, the redhead answered, “I meant every word.”

“Elliott…” your mouth grew dry with nerves.

“(Y/N)...” the writer whispered.

Time stopped, as you pulled the bouquet out of your bag. At the same time, Elliott pulled out an identical bouquet from his own bag. Neither of you moved or spoke, you could only stare at the opposing bouquet. Soon and in unison, you and Elliott bursted into laughter, loud enough to get a scolding look from Gunther.

You two finished your laugh fest and smiled at one another, “Wow,” you let out a soft laugh, “We really had the same idea, huh?” the redhead nodded, “It seems so.”

“Guess that means we’re dating?”

“Well, I did have a sonnet for you to highlight your passion, beauty, and kindness, but yes, we are dating.”

Chapter 10: Feast of the Winter Star

The fall season went by in an instant and brought the snow and frigid temperatures of winter. You and Elliott had been dating for a while when the Feast of the Winter Star rolled around.

To your surprise and joy, Lewis mailed you earlier in the season that Elliott was your secret gift receiver. Part of you wondered if Lewis did that on purpose, but given how he handled his relationship with Marnie (you unfortunately found them in a compromised position in the bushes by the bridge in town), you highly doubted it.

Despite Camelia Station’s completion, Elliott was already on his next book, a mystery called The Blue Tower. You thought it to be fitting that you gifted him a glass dip pen; he was strict about his writing instruments and never used a laptop, despite its ease and functionality. Hopefully, this was a good compromise. In addition, Marnie’s poor ducks would no longer have to suffer with Elliott’s weekly trips to the ranch for duck feathers. I think those ducks might be afraid of Elliott now.

The Feast of Winter brought families, friends, and lovers together in the beautifully decorated town square. The lamp posts were lined with tinsel and a thick evergreen tree stood in the center, decked out in various ornaments with a big shining star on the top. You searched the bustling square for Elliott and found him with Gus and Leah, enjoying a glass of cranberry wine.

“Surprise,” you hugged Elliott from behind and whispered in his ear. He yelped and almost dropped his wine, “Oh! (Y/N), my love! You scared me!”

“Told yah,” you cooed, “You are a scaredy cat.”

“I concede,” sighed Elliott, “I am a bit of a scaredy cat.”

“Good enough for me,” you released him from the hug and pecked him on the kiss. You then turned your attention to Leah and Gus, but they were too absorbed in conversation. Well, at least, Gus was, as he enthusiastically lectured Leah about his various techniques for cranberry sauce. Leah, on the other hand, appeared half-sleep, but managed to have perfectly timed head nods to fake engagement.

“By the way,” you perked up at Elliott’s voice, “I have something for you,” he handed you a somewhat heavy box, neatly wrapped in red paper and secured with a golden bow, “I’m your secret gift giver!”

“What a coincidence!” you giggled, as you held out your gift to Elliott, “I’m yours,” the two of you shared a laugh and Elliott mused, “Perhaps the mayor had a part in that.”

“I doubt it,” you responded, “He’s–” you felt Lewis stare daggers in your back, as if he could hear what you were about to say, “He doesn't seem like the type to meddle in romance or romantic relationships,” you looked down at your gift, “Why is this kinda… heavy?”

“Open it up, my dear, and you shall see,” stated Elliott.

“Only if we do it at the same,” you requested and Elliott nodded, “It’s a deal.”

Together, you and Elliott unwrapped your gifts, you more so ripped through yours while Elliott was meticulous with his unwrapping. Before you, there was a black box, you opened the box up and gasped at the item inside, “You didn’t!” you exclaimed, proudly showcasing the gift to the world, “You got me the Polaroid camera we saw at the antique shop in ZuZu City!”

“I did!” replied Elliott, “You looked so happy when you saw it and you mentioned how much you wanted to get back into photographing your life, so I had to get it,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Anything for my muse.”

“You’re sweet,” you chuckled, “Now, look at your gift!”

Elliott opened the thin, white box and nearly choked on his own saliva at the glass dip pen. He carefully removed the pen from the box, a beam of rainbow light shining from the glass, “Oh, (Y/N)... this is one of–” he cut himself short, “No, this is the most beautiful and thoughtful gift I have ever received,” he gave you another kiss on the forehead, “You spoil me, my dear.”

“You haven’t seen the best part yet, turn it around,” you informed Elliott.

He turned the pen around and read the engraving, “It says…” he squinted, “The Spirit of the Valley,” he seemed a bit confused by the words and you elaborated to him, “Your writing and you, Elliott, are so deeply connected to this valley. You brought life with your writing to this valley. You brought life, joy, and peace to me. You are the spirit that’s ingrained in me and this valley.”

Elliott sniffled, tears pricking the corners of his gentle emerald eyes, “You, my muse, are intertwined with my very being. I would be utterly lacking in life’s blessings if you weren’t here,” he pulled you into a deep kiss, your hands finding their way through his long fiery hair.

“Uh, guys?” the sound of Leah’s voice interrupted the kiss, “Too much PDA.”

Chapter 11: The S.S. Granger

Spring flew by as fast as it came. You tended to your farm, interacted with those in Pelican Town, and partook in the festivities. Your first spring was one full of unknowns and uncertainties but now, you finally felt like you were part of the town and the valley. You got some good use of the camera Elliott gifted you during the Feast of the Winter Star, photographing every precious moment. Your favorite photo was the one Leah took of you and Elliott dancing at the Flower Dance.

Soon, summer followed the peaceful spring weather with thunderstorms, heatwaves, and… green rain? Yeah, green rain happened. Only in Stardew Valley, huh? It took half of the season before nice sunny weather came and it happened to be the same day you received a somewhat cryptic letter from Elliott.

My darling,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. If you are available, please stop by the beach before noon today. I have something spectacular to show you.

– Yours truly, Elliott

Elliott didn’t know, but you cherished every letter he sent you, even though they were somewhat cheesy. You went back inside your farmhouse and opened your dresser, grabbing the ornate box you kept Elliott’s letters in and placing it inside. Your eyes darted up at the wall clock, the time being around 11am or so. I need to get to the beach!

You made your way to the beach, exchanging greetings with the passing residents. When you stepped on the bridge, you noticed a man with a short crew cut and camo leaning against the bridge and admiring the river. You smiled at him, “Hi, Kent.”

The man in camo flinched at your greeting and you frowned. It was only last spring that Kent returned from the Gotoro-Ferngill War and he wasn’t adjusted yet, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you apologized.

Kent shook his head, “It’s alright,” he ran a hand through his hair, “Just a reflex.”

“Gotcha,” you nodded. You eyed the river and asked Kent, “Enjoying the view?”

“I am,” he answered, “Water is… calming.”

“Agreed,” you hummed, “Well, I’m off to the beach, but I hope you have a nice day.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” replied Kent, “I wish you the same,” you bid farewell to Kent and resumed your walk to the beach.

You soon stepped foot on the beach, as a crisp summer breeze blew through the air. You sighed with relief at the cold sensation, it was a hot summer day. Feeling energized, you scanned the beach for Elliott and found him standing outside his cabin. He broke out into a grin when he saw you, “(Y/N)! My love, I’m so glad you’re here!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you laughed, embracing Elliott. The two of you held the other as tight as you could, “What’s the surprise?” you mumbled, voice muffled by your face in Elliott’s chest. Elliott released you from the hug and responded, “You’ll see,” he intertwined his hand with yours and led you to the pier. In the center of the pier, a rowboat bobbed against the waters.

Elliott gestured to the boat, “I finally fixed up the old rowboat outside my cabin… with Willy’s help, of course. I’m not much of a handyman but I did give it a fresh coat of paint,” you examined the rowboat with intrigue, its mahogany coat glimmering under the sunlight. You noticed some cursive on the hull of the boat, “S.S. Granger?”

“Named after my high school English teacher, Mr. Granger,” the redhead explained, “He was the one who lit the spark of creativity and my passion for writing,” he smiled sadly at the boat, “We kept in touch after I graduated high school, but sadly, he passed away from cancer when I was finishing up my bachelors’ at East Ferngill University.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you gave Elliott’s arm a squeeze, a sign of support, “I’m sure he would be proud of the man you’ve become.”

“I hope so,” the writer sighed. Elliott shook off his melancholy and hopped onto the boat, extending a helping hand out to you, “Care to join me for its maiden voyage?”

“Of course,” you grasped Elliott’s hand and boarded the rowboat. You took a seat across from Elliott, who grabbed the oars and began rowing farther into the Gem Sea. The pier faded into the distance, as Elliott rowed the boat. By the time he stopped, you could only make out the silhouette of Stardew Valley, “Wow,” you were starstruck, “You can see the whole valley from here.”

“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” the writer shuffled around a bit in his seat, “Although, I prefer the beautiful view right before my eyes.”

“You’re cheesy,” you snorted. Elliott shrugged his shoulders, “I would rather be cheesy if it means bringing a smile to your face,” you playfully nudged his arm, “You’re gonna make me melt.”

“Oh, my dear, don’t do that just yet,” Elliott cleared his throat, “I have another surprise for you,” you tilted your head with wonder, “Oh? You do?”

“I do,” the writer stated. He then secured the oars in the boat and began to recite, "Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate… Rough winds do shake the darling buds of Spring…”

You leaned in closer, entranced by your boyfriend’s words, as he continued, “And summer’s lease hath too short a date… Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines… And often is his gold complexion dimm’d… And every fair from fair sometime declines…”

The world around you two came to a standstill, “By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d… But thy eternal summer shall not fade… Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st… Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade…”

You leaned closer and closer into Elliott’s space, you could inhale his sweet pomegranate perfume, or in his words, his eau de parfum, Elliott was always a stickler with his words. He stared into your eyes, your soul, as he finished the sonnet, “When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st… So long as men can breathe or eyes can see… So long lives this, and gives life to thee.”

“Ellie…” you whispered. The writer smiled, “For the first time in my lifetime, I was at a loss for words and it was the moment I laid eyes on you at Pierre’s. You took my breath away, my love. It was only fair to share it with you in the form of one, if not, the greatest love sonnets.”

“Ellie, what are you saying?” you watched, as Elliott pulled a small, velvet box from his pant pocket, “(Y/N),” his tone was deep with emotion, “My muse, my love, my darling, my dear. I have a thousand names for you but,” he pulled a velvet box from his pants pocket, “Will you do me the highest honor and allow ‘spouse’ be one of those names?” Elliott slowly opened the box and inside, there was a Mermaid Pendant.

You covered your mouth and muffled your scream of delight before calming down enough to answer, “Yes! Yes, Elliott, I will marry you!” you embraced the redhead, nearly tackling in the process. You kissed Elliott deeply, the flames of love and passion exploding like fireworks. In that very moment, everything in the world- no, everything in the universe- was simply perfect.

Chapter 11: Wedding Bells

You fidgeted with your Mermaid’s Pendant, as Marnie and Emily added the final touches to your wedding outfit. Once they finished your outfit, you promptly walked off from the mirror in your farmhouse and began to pace around the farmhouse, “Oh my Yoba, what if he changes his mind?” you spouted off your worries.

“I highly doubt,” answered Leah, your person of honor, “If he dares to even think about leaving you at the altar, I’ll knock some sense into him,” she held up her fists, “And I mean knock some sense into him.”

“Thanks, Leah,” you sighed, relieved. Emily, a member of your wedding party, approached you with your bouquet, a small one made of summer spangles and sunflowers you grew on the farm, “You are gonna do great, (Y/N)!” she reassured you, “I’m manifesting it for you, you will do great.”

“Thanks, Emily,” you chuckled, “I can always count on your manifestations.”

“Are you ready, dear?” Marnie asked, “It’s almost time.”

“I’m as ready as I can be,” you answered.

You exited the farmhouse with Emily, Leah, and Marnie; the four of you making way to the entrance of the beach near Cindersap Forest. You gripped the bouquet tightly, your chest just as tight with fear. Marnie stood beside you and held out her arm, you relaxed the hold on your bouquet and locked arms with Marnie.

“You’re such a gorgeous marrier,” the rancher told you, “I’m so honored to be the one who passes you off, I hope I do your parents’ duty proud.”

Your parents couldn’t attend the wedding, your father being overseas fighting in the Gotoro-Ferngill War and your mother on the other side of the Ferngill Republic with her responsibilities at the hospital she worked at. You responded to Marnie, “You’re like a mom to me, Marnie. It felt right that you would be the one to hand me off.”

“And you’re like one of my own, (Y/N),” she retorted. You stared out towards the beach, getting a small sneak peek at the wedding arch. It’s now or never. You gave Marnie a nod and she hollered to the trio of Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail by the entrance, “It’s time!”

“Alright!” Sam cheered, “Let’s rock!” the band launched into the wedding march and you began walking to the beach with your wedding party behind you.

Before you, the entirety of Pelican Town sat in white fold out chairs on the beach, as you followed the row of fabric towards the wedding arch. Near the front of the crowd, you spotted two familiar figures in a suit and blue dress, your parents. When you passed them, you whispered to them, “You came.”

“We did!” your mom smiled at you, “It took some phone calls, but we didn’t want to miss our angel baby’s wedding,” your dad nodded in agreement, “I can handle Gotoro grunts on the front line, but the thought of missing my only child’s wedding? That’s unacceptable. I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay!” you replied, “It’s a great surprise!” you blew kisses at your parents and continued your walk to the wedding arch. Under the arch, Willy and Gus stood by Elliott as his wedding party. Your soon-to-be husband’s back faced you and once released to the altar by Marnie, you tapped Elliott on the back, “I’m here, honey.”

Elliott turned around and audibly gasped, “My darling! You- You-” tears suddenly formed in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, “Oh, my sweet darling, you look absolutely radiant,” he leaned in to kiss you, only to have Mayor Lewis shove his hand in between you, “Mr. Lovebird! No kissing until I say so!” he proclaimed. Elliott pouted at the mayor’s interruption, but nonetheless, he pulled back.

The two of you smiled widely at the other, your eyes shimmering with anticipation. Lewis stood behind you and he began the ceremony, “Can all attendees rise?”

The wedding guests rose from their seats and Lewis spoke to everyone, “We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Elliott and (Y/N). My dear friends,” he smiled at you and Elliott, “This is a new chapter in your lives, from the moment I proclaim them to be spouses to the day you die.”

“That’s the plan,” you mused, earning a few chuckles. Mayor Lewis let out a laugh, “Splendid! Then we should get right into it!” he continued with his opening remarks, but you paid no attention to him, as you found yourself lost in Elliott’s eyes.

“Now, the marriers will exchange vows,” you perked up at the mention of vows, watching silently as Elliott pulled out a piece of parchment and unfolded it, “(Y/N)... As I mentioned before during our boat ride, I was at a loss of words when I first laid eyes on you,” he recited his vows.

He let out a shaky breath, on the verge of crying again, “And today, I am again at a loss for words. There are no words in our language that can accurately describe your beauty, your strength, your resilience, your passion, your love. (Y/N), I thank Yoba and the forces of the universe that we are here at this moment,” the redhead hastily wiped his tears away, “You are my world, (Y/N). I love you.”

A collection of ‘aws’ and cheers erupted from the audience, as they clapped for Elliott’s vows. You sniffled a bit and blinked back your own tears, “Damn,” you let out a wobbly laugh, “Your vows blew mine out of the water, honey,” you passed your bouquet to Leah and grasped Elliott’s hands, “Elliott, the day I met… I was hella pissed off that you grabbed my cereal.”

The crowd laughed and you added on, “I thought you were a dick for that, but when you explained to me that you only wanted to help… that spark of unprompted kindness lit a flame in me. As I got to know you, I found myself falling deeper and deeper in love with you. From your passion to your mannerisms to your silliness to your determination… Elliott, I can’t picture my future without you. I can’t wait to make a beautiful life with you.”

Another round of applause came from the wedding attendees and Elliott grinned at you, his eyes full of unabashed love for you. Mayor Lewis gestured for the applause to simmer down and once there was silence, he announced, “With the vows now done… It’s my honor to, on this lovely summer day, unite Elliott and (Y/N) together as one,” you squeezed Elliott’s hands, eager to hear the ‘okay’ to kiss.

“As the mayor of Pelican Town and regional bearer of the matrimonial seal…” the mayor stated, as you took a deep breath, “I now pronounce you spouses! You may kiss!” you and Elliott wasted no time when given the ‘okay’ to kiss, as Elliott dipped you and kissed you tenderly on the kiss. Cheers and hollers of joy erupted once more from the wedding attendees in celebration of your new matrimony.

Elliott pulled you back up and finished the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. He whispered softly to you, “You’re my spouse,” to which you smiled, “And you’re my spouse,” you planted a kiss on Elliott’s cheek, “It’s time for our new chapter, isn’t it?”

“You’re right about that, my dear,” he answered, “The first chapter in our story.”

A new chapter, indeed.

...

Epilogue: Remembrance

A redheaded woman in pantsuit stood in front of the orchard, fresh fruit hanging from the trees. Besides her, two small children held each of her hands. The woman heard the sound of footsteps, as a man in farmer overalls and similar red hair approached the orchard, his work boots crunching the autumn leaves.

“Eleanor,” the farmer greeted the well-dressed woman, “Glad to see you here,” he supported his body against the hoe, “I didn’t think you would come.”

“I may be a busy woman, but I take offense that you doubt my attendance for this day, Elias,” Eleanor scoffed at Elias, the farmer. He shrugged his shoulders and instead commented, “You brought Kenny and Quinn with you?”

“Yes,” answered Eleanor, “I thought they deserved a chance to– Heyo!” a loud voice cut into the conversation, as another redhead appeared. They dressed in casual but neat attire, a flannel wrapped around their waist and their exposed arms displaying some old scars, “Sorry, I’m late! I got held up at my logging site.”

“Late as ever, Echo,” chuckled Elias. With a pout, Echo exclaimed, “Hey! Not my fault that I had to cut down a whole forest after last week’s wildfire!”

“Enough, you two,” Eleanor stated, “Do you have the supplies?” to which Echo and Elias confirmed that they did, “Splendid,” she squatted down to her children’s levels, “Kenny, Quinn… I know this might seem scary, but Mommy’s here to keep you safe, okay? You might not understand it now, but you deserve the chance to see them.”

“Okay, Mommy,” replied Kenny and Quinn. Eleanor squeezed their hands and with that, the group entered the orchard, going deeper and deeper until they made it to their destination. Two gravestones stood proudly in the center of the orchard, a few dead fruits and flowers by them. Echo pulled out a trash bag and collected the dead items while Eleanor and Elias set down fresh pomegranates and sunflowers.

“Mommy, where are we?” asked Quinn.

“We’re at your…” Eleanor blinked back tears, “These are your grandparents, you were very little when they went to Yoba, but they loved you both so very much.”

Kenny stared out at the gravestones and squinted, “Mommy, what do they say?”

Eleanor read the gravestone engravings aloud, “The one on the left has ‘Elliott Cunnigham’ at the top and below it, it says ‘Beloved Writer, husband, and father.’ The one on the right has ‘(Y/N) Cunningham’ with the words ‘Beloved Town Hero, spouse, and parent’,” Eleanor looked up at Echo and Elias with tears in her eyes, “Can one of you do it?”

“I got it,” answered Elias. He approached Eleanor’s side and grabbed the final offering, setting it down between the graves, “We can go if you want.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” replied Echo. Eleanor nodded in agreement, “Let’s go to the Stardrop Saloon, I think Gus would be happy to see all of us together.”

“Sounds like a great plan,” chuckled Elias.

With everyone in tow, the siblings and their children left the orchard, leaving the gravestones at peace for another year. The final offering laid still in the space between the burial sites.

A single box of cereal.

#honey crypt fics #stardew valley #sdv #stardew #sdv elliott #stardew valley elliott #stardew elliott #sdv elliott x farmer #sdv elliott x reader #stardew elliott x farmer #stardew elliott x reader #stardew valley elliott x farmer #stardew valley elliott x reader

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running-with-kn1ves · 7 months

Text

In The Book Stacks

A/N: This ones fo my 1(one) Ezra lover. Sorry for any typos! link to Part 1.

CW: making out in the library, possessive behavior, forceful behavior (Ezra holding reader captive temporarily)

Word Count:1900

“You're really stubborn, you know that.”

Dust poofed into the air as you slammed the book in your hands shut, your nose scrunching at the stench of mustiness.

“No one’s in a library at 8 pm on a friday,” Ezra lowered his voice to a whisper. “C’mon, right here.. Right here is perfect.” He planted a kiss to your nape hairline, softly pulling at your elbows from behind. “Who goes to the science-y section anymore, anyway.”

He kept trying to convince you with that slightly heightened tone, leg pushing between your knees as he trapped you between the bookshelf and him. You were starting to get annoyed, the shadow and humid warmth of his impatient body hovering only inches above you.

“I swear if you don’t stop breathing down my neck, getting caught will be the last thing you worry about.”

Ezra was unperturbed, giving a little laugh at how pissed off you sounded. What was so wrong about wanting to give a little love to his fiance in the library? Well- soon to be fiance, you didn’t know that part yet. Just give it a few months. Specifically, the May you graduate.

“Ooh, look who’s in a feisty mood. Are you scared of a little audience? Of our love… being witnessed.” He pecked at your shoulder, tickling fingers grabbing at your sides to make you squirm.

You put a book you had taken out back in the hole that it had left, shimming closer to the shelf and farther away from your boyfriend’s antics.

“No; I’d just never do something so abWHORant, especially not when I know you, would make an even bigger scene if one of the librarians caught us.” You rolled your eyes, letting out an exasperated goan; he was beginning to tick you off. “What am I even saying? See, you got me distracted again.”

“A little distraction never hurt nobody,” He swayed, pressing into your lower back with his thumbs, massaging the edges of your tailbone that he knew was probably aching from how much standing and searching you've done in the library already. Nobody who didn’t have a chem test tomorrow! you thought. ”Besides, aren’t you tired of searching for this book? We’ve looked in every isle…twice.”

You didn’t correct him for the intimate touch at first, finding it soothing and seemingly without the devious agenda he was proposing. But that touch soon moved to a caress, grabbing the sides of your hips, pressing them forward as his midriff touched your back.

“Books plural,” You sighed, sounding more defeated. “Maybe we should just go home; I shouldn’t have made the mistake of letting you come with me.”

Ezra was like a reward you’re supposed to enjoy AFTER doing an important task; you can’t have a reward in the same room with you though, otherwise all you think about is how needily it tempts you.

“I’ve accompanied you back and forth during this search, don’t you think I deserve a little bit of your time?” Ezra impatiently jabbed, grabbing your hand that was about to pluck another book. You yanked your arm away and pulled out a flimsy textbook off the shelf with it, refusing to acknowledge the tall, desperate creature beside you.

However, it was hard not to regret the harshness of your rejection as soon as you felt the sinking daggers of Ezra’s eyes.“ You know what--No. I’m sick of this. You’ve looked enough for tonight.”

The book was forced out of your hand and hit the floor with a dust-clouded thud, the sound scaring you with its echo bursting around the entire library. It skidded a few feet away from you as a sweetly warm palm concealed your mouth.

You were ripped backwards into a sturdy body, far warmer than the 69° library air brushing down your shoulders and bare knees. About to flail and hit your way free, a pair of bottom-heavy lips touched your cheek to stop you.

“I got off work early--ngh, walked with you all the way here,” Ezra wrapped around you, a squeezing snake intent on suffocating its prey. “And paid for your damn fancy coffee. And you won’t give me so much as a middle school kiss?”

Ezra looked down at you as your head jerked up, his heavy hand nearly blocking your nostrils as you rapidly huffed through them. What was he… going to do? You weren’t particularly afraid, even with his hand covering your mouth as if you were a hostage he was about to violate. But a thought in the back of your mind was scaring you; any sane person wouldn’t act as if they were going to suffocate you just for something so small as refusing to makeout in the library.

Ezra’s clean scent had been watered down by the day’s heaviness, his heavy exhales against your throat making you wonder if he was having some kind of episode. You would’ve elbowed him off if it weren’t for the other arm wrapped completely around your front sight, the anaconda’s tail keeping you pressed flush against its alluring body.

You liked that he took charge, that he held your hand with purpose and dragged you to come dance at parties. But this… should you have expected it, since he practically controlled every other physical movement of affection in your relationship? …But who in their right mind would expect their boyfriend to rip them close so violently?

A pained sound left his mouth as it held open, tongue so hesitantly resting against your lower neck, near your shoulder. It twitched, Ezra seemingly unsure of himself in enacting the obscene display. But by the soft shut of his eyes, the arch of his eyebrows in ecstasy-- you wondered if that was really hesitation, or perhaps a poor attempt to snuff his desperation.

‘Maybe he's savoring your last moments before choking you out.’ That extreme, but maybe-not-entirely-wrong intrusive thought murmured inside you.

His hand shivered as it stroked your cheek, pulsing against your shut mouth. The other thumbing your forearm as it crushed against your body in his grip, keeping it close as you stood stiff as a board.

A high-pitched groan left your covered mouth, whining to be released as you could hear a hoarse cough of some librarian or fellow stressed student from the other side of the bookcase. You pleaded with Ezra with your eyes, tugging harshly on his thick coat for him to let you go.

“stay, quiet..” He mumbled, pressing a finger to his wet lips.

Slowly, his palm raised from your lips as he watched you for any sudden moves.

Taking a deep breath and a pissed punch at his arm, you turned around to face him.

“That's what I should be saying!” You scream-whisperered. “We're in public and you're acting like a child who can't gotta toy he wants-- I'm not your mommy-!”

“Shh!” A voice from the opposite side of the book case ushered.

Ezra grabbed your beating hands, pulling your wrists tight to his chest as you tried to pound against him.

He seemed to grow small by shrinking down towards you, pulling your softening hands upward. He stared up so earnestly, like he hadn’t just licked a feverish stripe down your neck with a desire sp hungry that he didn’t consider your wellbeing.

“Sweethearttt,” Ezra leaned down with a whine, his sweetly soft eyes melting him slowly back to what he was before he tried to suffocate you. “I just want to be yours. Just want to kiss you and keep you…close.”

You swallowed looking at him, bending lower than you to get up close from below, nose nearly touching yours as he leaned up. Who was this overly needy person that replaced your already clingy boyfriend? He was acting more impatient than usual.

Your frustration melted a little on the outside, your curiosity more potent now that you could sense something was off.

“You’re being unusually obsessed today. Why do you need my attention so badly?”

You swore you saw Ezra’s face drop, mouth fixed into a plain thin line before it was gone in an instant.

“Why don’t you kiss me and I’ll tell you?” he grinned, bringing your hands up to his ears, burying them into his hair.

He circled you back to what he wanted again, nuzzling your nose as he waited for your move. He could kiss you, could relish in your skin and smell right here and now with your mouth too preoccupied to scream. But that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Prove that you love me too. I do so much for you, stay here with you, take care of everyone else for you… can’t you just show that you love me in return?”

His bright eyes crinkled, losing their shine as the grip pressing your fingers into his hair suddenly began to feel like handcuffs. Yet his face never wavered, staring into your eyes as he waited for your move. This was a test; he wanted to love you, but above all he needed to know there weren’t any… Threats. Whether that be your own weak mind or another man.

“Wha-,” Your mouth hung open, wondering with surprise where this trial was coming from. Did he see you do something and consider it a betrayal? “I..”

The usual Ezra would gaze back and forth evidently between your eyes and lips, a cute grin decorating his uncannily symmetrical face as he leaned in to kiss you. Now, he was a stoic void that waited emptily, expectantly.

You scoffed, feeling more ridiculous than when you circled this book aisle. “Fine… if it’s that big of a deal.”

Your untroubled tone tried to brush it off, but you weren’t fooling either of you.

It didn’t take much further to close the gap, pressing gently against Ezra’s stiff mouth as he kept your wrists tight against him. Well, if you were going to convince him, you couldn’t keep feeling like a prisoner in his hold. You caressed his cheeks with your thumbs, running your hands down to his neck despite his chokehold trying to keep you still. He eventually let go, however not without rough hesitation.

You felt like you were pecking at a statue, the warm aroma of his skin entering your nose as you pressed your face flush against his, tongue licking at his bottom lip with each kiss you tried to convince him with.

Ezra softened, just the teensiest bit, unable to ignore the sensation of your warm fingers on his jugular, moving to wrap each arm around his neck as you leaned against his broad nose. A slightly satisfied, indulgent groan left him. He felt like a teenager again, making out in the library with his hands flush against the bare skin of your back beneath your jacket and sweater, fantasizing about the curve of your spine and how your inner thighs would taste.

He melted, opening his mouth for you and kissing back with the fervor of a long distance lover you hadn’t seen in ages. But in reality, you had just had this same needy kissing session last night, much to Ezra’s pushing. He just wanted to convey how much he loved you, how special you were, to never let you feel inadequate or have the need to run to anyone else ever again.

“Is that..enough.. To convince you--” You tried to speak between his kisses, cut off each time with a wet peck against the corner of your lips.

The annoyed clearing of a woman’s throat came from uncomfortably close, foot tapping on the ground as the librarian waited for you two to finish.

#yandere #male yandere #self insert #reader insert #writing #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #library #reader #x you #x reader insert #yandere reader insert #reader imagine #reader x character #reader aesthetic

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flowersandbigteeth · 9 months

Note

A Heath the Gargoyle part 2? It’s going to be the 1 year anniversary for his story soon (you posted Dec. 29 2022) and I’d love to see the couple’s relationship in a more established/long term phase. Maybe Heath is getting ready to propose so Y/N doesnt end up “dying alone eaten by local strays”?

I can't believe it's been a whole freaking year!!! Time goes soooo fast! Okay, I didn't make it the 29th...but I'm close ^_^

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Gargoyle (Heath) x F reader

Word Count: 3.5 K

General Plot: You and Heath go to a childhood friend's New Years Party.

Previous Parts

TW: nsfw gargoyle smut, extremally awkward party conversation, p in v sex, flying and being in high places if heights bothers you, discussion of depression, hurt comfort dynamic

“Are you sure this looks good?” Heath asked you, shifting on his feet and plucking at the silver tie you’d fastened to his neck to match your sparkly dress.

“It's perfect!” You beamed, smiling up at him and swatting his hand. “Don't look so nervous!”

“I don't want to embarrass you,” he said, uncharacteristically shy.

You snorted.

“I’m more worried about the opposite,” you sighed. “Just…take anything they say with a grain of salt.”

“What does that mean?” He asked.

“Grace and I have been friends since we were kids because my mom works for her dad’s company…I kind of had to be her friend. Don't get me wrong, we were really close when we were kids,” you said. “But now I only see her for her annual New Year's party for my mom's sake. It's all I can stomach…how do I say this…she's kind of…competitive….You'll see.”

The two of you stood on the doorstep of her boyfriend’s obnoxiously large house, the sound of the party inside filling the chilly night air. You wore a sparkly dress, and Heath a sharp suit customized to fit his wings.

“Maybe they didn't hear me.”

You hit the doorbell again, and it let out a hollow DING.

“I’ve got it!” Someone shouted behind the door.

You heard the sound of footsteps, and the door swung open to reveal Grace's boyfriend Mark.

He was a better than average looking guy with blonde hair cut in a trendy style, wearing an expensive suit.

“Well…hello!” Mark said, his head tipping back to meet Heath’s eyes. “You’re…”

His mouth hung open for a moment, at a loss for words, then they both spoke at once.

“Heath.”

“Huge.”

There was an awkward pause before you stepped forward and hugged Mark.

“Thanks for having us over, Mark!” You beamed, shoving a bottle of champagne in his hand.

Mark blinked for a moment as you pushed past him, pulling Heath behind you.

“Grace’s in the kitchen!” He called after the two of you as he shut the door.

“Hiiii!” Grace squealed as you pushed through partygoers to get to the kitchen.

It wasn’t particularly difficult since Heath was bigger, harder, and wider than anyone in the room.

Grace looked beautiful, dressed in a glittery champagne bodycon dress. She'd always been lithe, her profile spruced up by a new pair of boobs Mark had bought her.

As usual, her party was perfect, every detail considered. There was a bartender wearing a bow tie serving drinks, the perfect music playing, and fresh flower arrangements everywhere.

All the furniture had been removed to create a dance floor, and someone had specially designed gold lights to set the mood.

“So this is the man himself!” Grace exclaimed, looking up at Heath with wide eyes.

“Gargoyle,” you corrected.

“Right! Right! Henry, wasn't it?”

Heath gave her a humble smile and stuck out a hand to shake hers.

“Heath. Nice to meet one of (Y/N)’s friends.”

She held his hand a moment too long before she dropped it.

“(Y/N), shame on you for keeping him hidden away!”

You blushed and put a hand on Heath’s arm, unsure what to say. The two of you had been half hibernating for the winter. You tended to get a bit of depression during the cold, dark months. Heath was more than happy to snuggle up with you and his fluffy little cat Aero and cuddle, which is all you really wanted to do from November to April.

People usually imagined gargoyles sitting stoically in the snow and menacing passerbys, but Heath liked to nest, tucking you both in piles of warm blankets and reading to you while you shared snacks.

Her eyes traveled from the tip of his folded wings, down the trim suit was wearing, to his clawed feet.

“I can see why,” she went on, her mouth hanging open for a moment before she caught herself. “I'm so glad you two came!”

“I've been missing my best friend! Let's get you some drinks!” she squealed, leading you out of the kitchen.

Heath glanced down at you and raised an eyebrow.

“Best friend?” He mouthed at you, and you shrugged.

“Pomegranate martinis for us,” she said to the man behind the bar.

“What do you like to drink, Heath?” Mark asked, appearing with the bottle of champagne you'd brought and handing it to the bartender.

“Whatever you've got with Whiskey.”

“Gotcha, big guy,” the bartender said, tossing bottles elegantly as he made the drinks.

When you were all set up with beverages, Lily led you out onto her back patio.

“Look at this,” you said, taking in the beautiful outdoor space. “You've been hard at work! It's beautiful out here!”

She'd put in layers of neatly trimmed flowers and bushes, which were dusted in snow. White lounges were arranged to make comfortable seating areas warmed by blue glass fire pits. The massive pool glowed, steam drifting up from its surface. It looked like it had come straight out of a magazine.

“Isn't it? Mark got the best landscaper in the state! I'll give you his card!”

She frowned at you.

“Oh, you're still in that icky old apartment, aren't you?” she asked. "You've got to get out of that place. Aren't you afraid of mold? It's terrible for your complexion."

“(Y/N) lives with me. Gargoyles like high places, so I have a flat downtown,” Heath corrected her, then smiled down at you. “Though the only plants we have are potted.”

“Heath is really good with plants,” you said, smiling back at him with warmth. “He’s made us a whole jungle on the balcony!”

“Hmm,” Grace hummed, eyes dropping to Heath’s large hands. “You look like you're good with your hands, Heath. You’ll have to come by sometime and give me some lessons.”

Heath’s eyebrows rose, glancing down at you for help.

“How’s work going, Mark?” You asked to change the subject.

“Mark got a promotion,” Grace said before he could answer. “He's a senior account manager at Dawson and Shields.”

“Congratulations, Mark,” you said politely.

He raised his drink and put a possessive arm over Grace’s shoulder.

Before anyone could speak, one of Grace’s’s friends practically ran towards you, eyes on your hulking boyfriend.

“(Y/N)!” Mary wailed, throwing her arms around you in a way she’d never done before.

“Oh…Oof!” you gasped, catching her weight. “Uh…nice to see you again, Mary. This is my boyfriend, Heath.”

He put his hand out to shake hers, but she shoved her body past it, attempting to plaster herself to his chest.

“We do hugs here!” Mary brayed.

He took an awkward step backward, gently pushing Mary off of him with one large hand.

“Sorry,” he said, tapping his nose. “Your perfume. My kind is very sensitive to scent.”

He folded his big body down and tucked his nose into the spot where your neck met your shoulder, tapping a small kiss into your skin and subtly sniffing your neck as if he was cleansing his pallet.

Mary’s face turned bright red, and she took a step back.

“Are you still working at that bookstore?” Grace asked, filling the awkward silence.

Before you could answer, she turned to Heath.

“I've been trying to tell (Y/N) it's time to get a grown-up job for years now. I mean, who works minimum wage at some shabby little bookstore at our age, don't you think?”

Heath glanced at you and tipped his head to the side in a way you recognized as annoyance, though didn't look it. He took a sip of his drink to hide his frown.

“What do you do, Grace?” He asked when he’d straightened his face.

Excited to talk about herself, she went on, her hands waving around as she talked.

“I'm a beauty influencer!” she said.

“Beauty…influencer?” Heath asked. “I'm not sure I know what that means.”

She stuck out her chest to show off the Chanel necklace resting just above her cleavage.

“I model jewelry, makeup, and nails,” she said. “Then I do reviews on all the products!”

“Oh..uh…neat,” he said, trying to be friendly for your sake.“I didn't know that was a job. Do the brands pay you?”

Her bright smile fell for just a moment before she plastered it back on.

“Well…No, but I'm hoping to get some sponsorships this year!” She said. “I have 1,000 followers on TikTok!”

Heath gave her a blank look.

“Tik… Tok?” He asked, glancing down at you for guidance.

“Um…it started as an app for teenagers to lip-sync popular songs, but now lots of people use it!” you explained.

He raised his eyebrows but was at a loss for words.

“What do you do for work, Heath?” Mark asked.

“I own a shabby little bookstore,” he said before taking a long drag of his drink.

“Oh!” Grace said with a stilted smile.

There was another incredibly awkward silence.

“Well, I think that's wonderful!” Mary cheered, squeezing his elbow. “There aren't enough brick-and-mortar stores these days! Everything is online!”

Heath brightened, though he took a half step away from Mary.

“We do a lot of online business, as well.”

He brushed his heavy hand over your hair, affectionately.

“We?” Grace asked.

“I made (Y/N) my co-owner.”

“Wow, sleeping with the boss, (Y/N),” Mary snickered. “I never thought you had it in you.”

You blushed, but Heath folded you under his arm.

“It’s the other way around,” Heath chuckled, brushing his thumb over your bare shoulder as he spoke. “(Y/N) is the boss. She’s got more of a mind for business than me. I'm just a book nerd, but she’s a marketing genius. Sales were dropping the year before last, so she managed to turn the store into more of a destination. Since she took over things, we've started focusing on hard-to-find antiques and hosting auction events. Profits have quadrupled.”

“Oh!” Mark said, snapping his fingers. “Of course! You own Gargoyle Book Gallery! That's a legend! My boss loves antique books...first editions and all that. He raves about your spot all the time!”

Heath tipped his drink at Mark.

“Donny Shields, right? He comes by for poker night.”

“Poker night?” Mark asked.

Heath nodded.

“Some guys from the Business League come over on Saturdays to play a couple of hands of poker and shoot the shit,” he explained.

Mark’s eyebrows shot up.

“I'd love to get in on that!” He said, eyes almost green with envy. "Can't imagine the conversations over that table!"

Heath shrugged.

“We’ve got a full table now, but if a spot opens up, I’ll ask the guys,” he said.

Grace decided too much time had passed without anyone paying attention to her.

“Now that Mark is on track to be partner, we are going to buy a new house!” she said. “I don’t understand how you can stand to live in a tiny apartment!”

Mark looked at her like he did not, in fact, want to buy a new house.

“We’re still discussing it,” he said.

Grace smacked him on the arm.

“Don’t be silly, Mark,” she said. “With your raise, we can afford something bigger!”

“I mean, I spend a lot of money on your stuff for TikTok, Grace,” he murmured. “Maybe if you were pulling in some revenue-”

Grace smacked him again, harder this time, and gave him a look that said, “Shut up if you know what’s good for you.”

“This place is really nice,” Heath offered Mark, trying to be diplomatic. “Plenty of room for a family.”

They both spoke at once.

“We aren’t starting a family.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought when I bought it.”

You and Heath glanced at one another and took long sips of your drinks.

“I have my career to think of!” Grace said while Mark found somewhere else to look.

“That’s a pity. You’d be a great mom!” Mary said. “You could be a mommy blogger. Your fans would love that. You and Mark would have beautiful babies.”

“Of course. We have excellent genes,” Grace said, enjoying being complimented.

Her eyes slid mischievously to you.

“What about you two?” she asked. “Are you thinking of starting a family?”

You and Heath’s eyes met.

“Maybe,” Heath said. “If you want to.”

Your cheeks warmed, but not from embarrassment.

“I’d like that,” you said.

Grace frowned.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” she asked.

The two of you looked at her, confused.

“You know, because of your mental illness. You wouldn’t want to pass that on to your kids…and how can you be a good mom with depression?”

Your heart dropped, and tears flooded your eyes. It shouldn’t have gotten to you. You knew how Grace was, but it still hurt. It was something you’d always felt a little insecure about.

Heath’s mouth fell open, and he shoved his glass into Mark’s hand.

“It was nice to meet you, Mark,” he said before he scooped you up in his arms, and with a heavy pump of his wings, the two of you shot up into the night sky.

He flew a couple of blocks away, before he stopped and hovered in place.

Tears slid down your cheeks, leaving an icy streak as they cooled.

“Are you okay?” Heath asked as the two of you hung suspended in the cold December air.

You sniffled, wiping your tears.

“Yeah…I told you…Grace is competitive. She doesn’t like anyone looking better than her,” you whimpered.

You felt a low growl in his chest.

“That’s no excuse,” he said. “I think you’ll be a great mom. I’m not the least bit worried.”

“But what if she’s right?” you asked. “What if I’m a terrible mom? What if my kids are messed up or something?”

Heath let out a chuff with no humor.

“That’s nonsense, teacup,” he said. “Depression is pretty common…and you manage yours just fine. Nobody is a perfect parent, and everyone has different challenges. Grace sounds like some kind of eugenicist. It’s creepy, to be honest.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You don’t wish you had a perfect girlfriend like Grace?”

Heath laughed out loud.

“Grace is not the perfect girlfriend. Sooo far from it. I kind of feel bad for Mark, to be honest,” he said. “You on the other hand…”

He tucked his head in the crook of your neck, smattering kisses over the skin.

“You are smart…sweet…patient…incredibly patient,” he whispered, kissing you or nibbling with each word. “I have no idea how you put up with that woman.”

“You get used to it,” you murmured.

He tipped your face up to his.

“I don’t want you to get used to that kind of meanness,” he said. “I don’t want to control who you see…but I don’t like them. I’d rather spend the rest of New Year's with you if that’s okay, not some snobby weirdos.”

He adjusted you in his arms, nudging you to loop your legs around his waist. You pressed yourself against his warm body to chase away the chill of the night air. With one arm holding you to him, he cupped the nape of your neck, guiding your lips to his with the other.

He tasted like oaky whiskey, making your mouth water. His heavy kisses chased any thoughts of Grace or the party away.

Hovering in the inky night with the twinkling lights of the city sparkling in every direction, your only focus was Heath’s thick hand holding you securely in place and his lips on yours.

You ground your hips into his body, delighted to feel his hardening shaft meet your core.

His hand slipped down your neck, tugging the front of your dress down with a stiff jerk. The straps snapped, and your breasts tumbled out.

“Heath,” you gasped, but he hushed you with another deep kiss before speaking.

“It’s dark. No one can see us. Let me make you feel good.”

He dipped his head, drawing a peaked nipple into his mouth. The contrast of his hot tongue and the chilly air made you quake. He licked and sucked one nipple and then the other until you’d completely forgotten everything going on below. Your world shrank to just Heath and all the decadent things he could do to your body.

Your head fell back, pleasure snaking up and down your spine as he delighted you. Thick fingers roughly shoved the skirt of your dress up your thighs, and he traced your slit, growling at how wet you were for him. Another swift jerk and your shredded panties were fluttering a hundred feet down to the snowy earth.

You gasped his name, but he was high on your scent and taste, wholly focused on giving you pleasure. He screwed two fingers inside of you, opening you up for him. You let out a needy whimper when they pulled out for a moment but were quickly replaced with his tail, thrusting in and out of you.

You hardly heard the buzz of his zipper, your eyes rolling back in your head. With a tight thrust of his hips, his tail slipped away, and his thick cock filled you. He clutched your ass with a deep, satisfied grunt.

A hundred feet up in the sky, you didn’t dare unhook your arms from around his neck, so you were at his mercy as he slammed his shaft into you. You bleated lusty yelps with every smack of his heavy balls against your skin, clinging to him for dear life. You were dizzy from fear blending with pleasure, your breaths ragged gasps. There was nothing between you and falling to your death but Heath’s enormous arms and powerful wings.

“You’re so fucking perfect, (Y/N),” he growled into your ear, practically feral from the way your channel spasmed around his cock. You were tight, wet, hot, and the only woman in the world he wanted. Gripping your ass, he used your cunt like a fleshlight, slamming his cock into you over and over again.

The tip of his naughty tail circled your clit, pushing you closer and closer to your end until there was nowhere else to go, and you went careening over the edge. With the addition of your pussy strangling his cock he couldn’t hold back any longer, his final thrusts savage and bruising.

Your stomach dropped as he lost control of his wings for a moment, and the two of you dipped into a free fall for a few seconds. You felt his searing cum fill you as you screamed into his chest. The confusing sensation of falling and his cum filling your womb slammed you into another unexpected orgasm. You bounced in his arms as he steadied the two of you.

“Heath!” you gasped, your nails digging into his neck.

“It’s okay, teacup, I’ve got you,” he muttered as he titled his wings, and the two of you streaked across the city.

Instead of heading home, he deposited you on the roof of a tall building downtown.

“Wait here,” he said, zipping his fly, and before you could say anything, he swooped away.

When he returned a few minutes later, he was holding a bottle of champagne.

“Where did that come from?” you laughed as he settled next to you and tugged you into his lap.

“I stole it from a party going on down there,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, they have plenty.”

You giggled, leaning back into his chest, while he popped the top, aiming the spray off of the edge of the building, before tipping a little into your mouth.

There was a pop, and fireworks exploded in the sky across the city.

He turned you around to him, slipping something out of his pocket.

"I wanted to do this tonight...but things didn't go quite as planned..." he said, appearing suddenly nervous.

You tipped your head to the side, confused until he opened the little box in his hand revealing a pretty ring.

"Heath!" you gasped your hand going to your lips.

"(Y/N)," he said. "Since the day I hired you, my world changed. At first it was just a fantasy crush. I mean, as your boss...I felt like it was wrong to act on it...but something about you is irresistible. It was impossible not to fall in love with you. Impossible not to steal you away.

Then we started dating and for awhile, I thought that was enough...but as the year went on...I realized I was happier than I'd ever been and you seemed...happier than I'd ever seen you...So...I want to make this permanent. If...you want that..."

Your eyes danced from the ring up to Heath's eyes. More fireworks bloomed in the sky, and you could see them reflected in Heath’s dark irises.

"Are...you asking me to marry you, Heath?" you asked.

"I guess I forgot the most important question," he said, giving you a shy chuckle. "(Y/N), will you marry me?"

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time for the best reason.

"Yes! Of course! I love you, Heath! I want to be with you forever!" you said.

“I love you, too (Y/N). Happy New Year,” he said quietly, slipping the ring out of the velvet and slipping it on your finger.

“Happy New Year, Heath,” you said tucking your head into his cozy shoulder and watching the fireworks make your engagement ring sparkle.

#monster x girl #monster fucker #monster smut #monster #monster romance #monster x human #monster lover #male yandere #yandere smut #gargoyle #x reader

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footprintsinthesxnd · 4 months

Text

Trip Hazards

Massive shoutout to the lovely anon who requested this fic. I had a lot of fun writing for Blakley. Pairings: Everett Blakley x f!nurse!reader Summary: Everett Blakely has had his eye on a certain young nurse on base for a while now. When he finally plucks up the courage to ask her out he has a rather unfortunate accident.

There she was. Y/n Y/l/n. As pretty as anything. Her hair was pinned neatly in a Gibson roll while the rest of her head was covered by her white nurse's cap. Blakley sighed as he watched her count out a crate full of dressings and distributed them into piles. He could happily watch her all day.

“She’s a good-looking broad, Blakley,” Douglass agreed, watching the nurse as she began ticking off the new medical supplies on her clipboard. “I can see why you like her,” a smug smile pulled at the bombardier’s lips and his moustache twitched mischievously.

“I don’t like her, I…” Blakley turned to his friend, a little embarrassed that he’d been caught looking at the young nurse again. He couldn’t find the right words to describe how he felt about a certain Nurse Y/l/n. From the moment he’d bumped into her in the infirmary while visiting Bubbles he’d been fond of her. She was softly spoken and had an air of grace about her as she swept down the corridors in her white apron.

“You know you could just talk to her rather than keep staring,” John Egan chimed in from where he was perched on the jeep, lighting up a cigarette, the smoke floating up above their heads.

“No, I can’t. I’d just make a fool of myself,” Blakley replied adamantly, his eyes drifting away from the nurse and back to Douglass who smiled broadly.

The bombardier's moustache twitched once more as if he was going to come out with a clever comment, but Blakley’s warning glare stopped him.

“Well you look like a fool anyway standing over here staring at her,” Gale Cleven’s voice echoed from his spot beside Egan, breaking off the staring contest between Blakely and Douglass.

He turned to the Major, pushed his dark hair back and placed his hat back on his head, “Not you as well.”

Cleven held his hands up in response, but Egan answered for him, a common habit between the two Majors, “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Blakley stared at him with a deadpan expression. If he could have facepalmed he would have. Sometimes he wondered if he could smack Egan and Douglass’ head together and make sense of their comments. “Well for a start she could say no, tell me I’m a creep and then avoid me at all costs.”

The other airmen stared at him as though he’d grown an extra head, but the group remained silent until Cleven spoke up.

“Well other than that. Don’t think worst-case scenario, Blakley. You’re one of the good guys. You cause far less trouble than John.”

Egan glared at his friend and shoved him playfully. Blakley rolled his eyes at the Major’s antics. How could he think of anything serious while they continued this behaviour?

Douglass placed a hand on Blakley’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly, but accompanying it with a stern look.

“Alright, I’ll go and talk to her,” Blakley sighed, straightening out his B-3 jacket that he’d worn despite the warm summer afternoon. He was now regretting that decision, and paired with his hat too he was sweating before he’d even turned in Y/n’s direction.

“That’s my boy, go and get her,” Douglass called, hoping up onto the jeep so he could watch his friend.

Blakley felt a shaky breath escape his lips as he took a few tentative steps forward. His eyes were so focused on Y/n that he didn’t hear Lemmons whistling for Meatball, or the large grey object that streaked across his path, not until his leg connected with the object and he went flying through the air.

Meatball seemed unphased by her collision, continuing to trot towards Lemmons while Blakley flailed on the floor.

He could hear his fellow airmen’s cheers and jests from behind him, but it was when he met Y/n’s eyes from across the airstrip that his heart dropped. She’d looked up briefly from her clipboard and their eyes had met before he buried his head back into the dirt.

This couldn’t be happening. No. No. No.

It was the ruckus of laughter that alerted Y/n to the group of airmen standing by the jeep, their heads thrown back in fits of laughter. Her eyes fell on their fallen comrade in front of them, his whole body pressed firmly against the ground. She’d recognise that dark head of hair anywhere as Major Everett Blakley.

She’d seen the Major around often, in the pub in Dicklesburg or the officer club at one of the many on-base parties. She vividly remembered their first meeting while she was nursing Bubbles Payne. He’d been blushing like a schoolboy and her heart had instantly begun to race as their eyes met over the bed.

She watched as his friends continued to laugh at his discomfort and other than the way his limbs flexed against the ground, there was no sign of life. She glanced back down at her clipboard listing medical supplies before placing it down on the crate. Inventory could wait until later.

She removed the cloth that covered her hair and stuffed it into her apron pocket, smoothing down any loose hairs that may have sprung up. She wasn’t sure what it was about Everett Blakley but he always made her heart beat a little faster.

“Are you alright, Major?” She asked, standing above him as her shadow covered his face. He just shook his head, mumbling something into the earth that she couldn’t make out.

Sighing, Y/n crouched beside him, ignoring the way her white apron draped against the ground. Her eyes flicked over to James Douglass who was still bent double. Anytime she had seen Blakley, Douglass had never been far behind.

Her bright eyes flicked over to Major Egan and Major Cleven who had also participated in the laughter despite their fellow airman’s embarrassment. She gave them a look, similar to the one her mother would give her brothers when she’d finally had enough of their antics. The two Majors seemed to catch on and began to usher the men away, but not before Douglass shouted, “Go get her, Blakley.”

So this was what it was all about.

“Are you alright, Major?” Y/n asked, kneeling now and placing a hand on Blakley’s shoulder. She could just make out the pink tips of his ears from beneath the collar of his B-3 bomber jacket. She wasn’t sure why he was wearing it on such a warm day but that was probably contributing to the flush on his cheeks.

“I’m quite well, thank you,” he spoke gruffly against the ground, moving his head just a fraction.

“Right… Do you want to get up then?”

Blakey merely shook his head and had he been looking at Yn he’d have seen her with a more than confused expression.

Y/n huffed, nestling down beside the Major. At her touch, Blakley’s head shot up. He had grass and mud pressed into his right cheek, and a single blade of grass stuck to his lip.

“What are you doing?” He asked seriously, but Y/n couldn’t suppress the chuckle that fell from her lips.

“I’m sitting here with you.”

Blakley cocked an eyebrow and waited for her to elaborate.

“Well, you took quite the tumble and it’s my job to make sure you’re alright.” Y/n pointed at the Red Cross on her armband. “Can’t have one of our brave pilots injuring themselves on my watch.”

Blakley pushed himself up into a sitting position, brushing off the front of his jacket but forgetting his face.

“As you can see,” He cleared his throat, “I’m fine.” He couldn’t help the way his heart pounded in his chest, the blood rushed through his ears loudly. He wondered if Y/n could hear his heart beating too.

“Other than your wounded pride I would imagine,” she suggested and Blakley’s face grew red once more. “It’s okay to be clumsy, I’m clumsy too.” Y/n pulled her long white apron up to just above her knees, revealing multiple purple bruises, “I’m always falling over things.”

Blakley swallowed hard, his eyes travelling over the nurse's pale flesh. He felt his cheeks growing warmer and he cleared his throat, removing his gaze from her body. He should have been looking far more respectfully than he was.

Y/n seemed to notice his blush and reached over, linking her hand through his. Blakley glanced down at their joined hands, a faint ghost of a smile on his lips.

“There are worse things to be than clumsy,” Y/n added, her bright eyes meeting Blakley’s with a kind smile. “You could have a moustache like Douglass.”

Blakley chuckled, running his thumb over his own moustache, neatening the corners.

A gasp and a muffled shout from behind them confirmed that Douglass was in fact listening to their conversation.

A brunette head appeared beside the jeep and Major Egan flashed them a smile, as he marched Douglass away despite his protests regarding his rather ‘fetching’ moustache.

Blakley chuckled, turning back to the girl in front of him. There definitely were worse things than being clumsy, and who knows, maybe being clumsy was the best thing that could have happened to him.

Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @groovin2beats @kmc1989 @ginabaker1666 @hesbuckcompton-baby @beebeechaos @forsythiagalt @prettyinlimegreenboots

#Everett Blakley #masters of the air #hbo war #mota #everette Blakely x reader #masters of the air x reader #james douglass #gale cleven #john egan

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frost-queen · 1 year

Text

Stranded (Reader x Din Djarin)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine

Summary: You are stranded because the Razor Crest broke down. Bickering like an old married couple, tensions rise even when Din is not accepting your help. Frustrated by him denying your help, you leave, confusing him. When you didn't return he goes looking for you, leading to a cute moment as he was worried sick about you.

You sighed loud, resting your knuckles under your jaw. Staring mindlessly in front of you. Nothing to see but dessert sand and rocks. Quirking your eyebrow up, you looked to your left. Grogu silently waddling over to a rock. Narrowing your eyes, you could tell what he was trying to do. On a rock sat an insect unaware of the child coming closer. Grogu snuck up to it nearly to the rock.

His little hand stretched out. You snickered, thinking for sure he wouldn’t catch it. Grogu flicked his hand up as your eyes widened. The insect was floating in the air, legs dangling for any grip. Grogu guided the insect closer to him, widening his mouth. – “Grogu no!” – you shouted out, jumping up. Din bumped his helmet against the Razor Crest from hearing you shout so loud. – “What is it?” – he asked worriedly, coming in sight.

He stared at you standing close to Grogu. Hands on your hips and a dangerously motherly scowl on your face. – “Out! Spit it out!” – you demanded, pointing at the ground. – “Now!” – you called out when he wasn’t listening. Grogu opened his mouth, spitting insect out. The poor creature dropped to the ground, disorientated for a few moments. The insect fluttered with its wings. You squealed loud, ducking all around as it came flying your way. Din sighing loud at the sight of it.

The insect seemed to keep circling near you, to find the proper direction. – “Ieuw, ieuw get away!” – you freaked out, moving around to avoid that it bumped into you. Squealing loud, you dropped to the ground as it finally flew away. – “Maybe you should’ve let the kid eat it?” – Din said from afar, making you lift your head up. – “Why don’t you occupy yourself with repairing the ship.” – you answered with a sarcastic smile.

He sighed deep, turning around. You got up, going after him. Grogu silently following wanting to be close by. You got onto the Razor Crest. Din walking around in search for parts and tools. You watched him for a few seconds. He groaned loud, searching through the parts. Picking one up yet throwing it back as it wasn’t the right part. – “I told you to check the Razor Crest when we left.” – you said, wobbling on your feet, hands behind your back.

Grogu came joining your side, looking curiously up to you. Din grabbing the edge firmly. – “I am well aware of that.” – he answered grumpy. – “If you had checked everything out, we wouldn’t be stranded now.” – you continued to speak. Din tensed his jaw. – “Y/n!” – he called out annoyed. Looking firmly your way. – “I get it!”

He continued to ruffle in the compartment for the right parts. Groaning frustratingly when he couldn’t find it. You took a deep breath, walking up to him. – “What do you need, let me help you.” – you suggested, hand moving into the compartment. – “No!” – he called out, slapping your hand away. – “I don’t need your help! Just leave it to me!” – you rubbed your hand with a sour face. – “Fine!” – you bit back, moving away.

Turning round, you noticed a tool. You went over to it, picking it up. – “I’ll check the…” – you started, words swallowed back in when Din had stormed over, grabbing your wrist roughly. He plucked the tool from your hand. – “I’ll do it.” – he insisted. You sighed loud. You didn’t mind that he could tell how annoyed you were with him. – “I’m just trying to help maybe it will go faster this way so we can finally leave this forsaken dump!” – you outed with frustration.

“I didn’t choose to be here.” – Din answered setting the tool loudly down. – “Neither did I, but it was your ship that decided to malfunction around this dump.” – you replied loudly. Grogu looking from Din to you and back, blinking confusingly. – “Sure! Blame it on me.” – Din said bothered as you could tell clearly in his voice. – “I wasn’t blaming you; I was blaming the ship.” – you made clear that was the case.

“Same thing!” – Din puffed out with a wave of his hand. You rolled with your eyes, walking off. Grogu squeaked loud, ears flattening. Din took a deep breath, setting his hands down. Lowering his head to compose himself from any further outbursts. It wasn’t personal but the emergency landing just wasn’t something he was planning on.

You opened the lid to the lower compartments, wanting to check there if everything was still alright. – “Y/n no!” – Din called out, jogging over. He grabbed you just in time by your elbow, withholding you from letting yourself go deeper into the hole. – “What?” – you called out confused.

Din pulled at your arm as you were forced to crawl back out, feet dangling in the air. – “I told you no.” – he said loud and clear. – “I heard you.” – you answered sitting down the hole to pull your legs out. – “Like I said I want to help.” – you repeated. Din closed the lid. – “Like I said I don’t need your help. Let me do it alone!”

“What will you have me do then?” – you asked desperately. – “I don’t know, just stay out of my way. Go play with the kid or so?” – he suggested with a deep sigh. You looked down to where Grogu was. Having enough of it, you spun around, walking off. Din furrowed his brows confused as to where you were going.

Perhaps you were going to cool off outside. Muttering frustrated, you walked away from the ship. Needing to be away from him. You loved him, but at times like this you didn’t like it when he wouldn’t let you help around. It would be twice as fast if you helped out. Fine, you weren’t a mechanic, but you weren’t a complete idiot to repairing things. If only he explained a few things to you or let you do simple tasks that would’ve been fine.

No, he rather does everything himself. If he had listened to you in the first place, you wouldn’t even be here bickering over a broken down ship. Puffing loud, you weren’t even sure where you were going. You just needed to be away. Maybe by the time you were back, the Razor Crest would be repaired.

Din looked down at Grogu who had come to him. – “She’ll be back.” – he reassured her. Grogu moved his little hand out to the opening. – “No, you should stay here. I could maybe use your help.” – He picked up Grogu, moving further down the Razor Crest with him. Din looked over his shoulder, wondering if you had entered again. Taking a deep breath it wasn’t the case. He was kneeling down.

Grogu lifted up a tool, nearly falling back from the heaviness as Din took it from him. – “She still can’t be mad right?” – he asked Grogu. Grogu moved his shoulders up with a few babbling sounds. Din sighed, unscrewing a few screws. Sighing again, he lowered his tool. – “It is not like she should be mad. True we bickered a bit, but all companions do that, don’t they?” – he looked at Grogu again for an answer.

Grogu flattening his ears. – “You are right.” – Din spoke. – “I should just apologize like any good man would.” – He was about to get up when he remembered something. – “It is not like she shouldn’t apologize. We both took a part in this act. So…so.” – he swayed the tool up and down at Grogu. – “She should apologize as well. It wasn’t all my fault.”

Grogu looked up and down at the tool, mesmerized. Din grunted, looking away. – “It has to be me, right?” – he asked Grogu who wasn’t even following along anymore. Grogu squeaked excited. Din got up, picking Grogu up with him. He set him in the carrier as it followed behind him. – “Y/n?” – he said stepping outside. – “Y/n are you here?” – he turned round the ship in the hopes of encountering you.

Looking both ways, he went fully round without bumping into you. – “Y/n?” – he called out. Louder as the worriedness slightly rose inside of him. He started moving away from the Razor Crest further into the nothingness. – “Y/n where are you?” – he muttered looking carefully around. The carrier following him as he began his search. He kept a steady pace, making sure he had seen everything. After a five minute walk, his worriedness went through the roof. Quickening up his pace, ready to shout out your name in desperation.

If anything had happened to you, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. He searched further coming to a sudden stop. There you were. He started running up to you, panting. – “Oh Din look what I found.” – you said, showing him the berries. He grabbed your wrist firmly as the berries dropped to the ground. – “Hey! Do you know how long it took me to get those!” – you shouted.

Din pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you. – “Don’t run off like that!” – he pressed his hands deeper onto your back. – “Aww.” – you teased. – “Did you miss me.” – pouting your lips, you found it a bit funny. He grunted loud, moving you to arms-length. – “I was worried sick! I thought… I thought you… Dank Farrik Y/n I thought you were dead or something!” – he called out with heavy breaths.

Your smile dropped, seeing how sincere he was about it. Even with his helmet on, you could just see how much it affected him. – “I’m sorry.” – you answered, slightly ashamed. – “I had no idea I was gone for that long.” – He exhaled loud, holding his hands against your cheeks. – “I’m sorry. I apologize for all I’ve said.” – he spoke, brushing his thumb along your cheek. You smiled softly. – “I’m sorry too. I let my frustrations get the better of me. I shouldn’t have projected it towards you.” – you told him.

Din’s shoulders untensed as he took a deep breath. You came closer, one hand placed against his helmet as you left a kiss there near his cheek. He embraced you, holding you close to his chest. You looked down feeling something poke against your side. Grogu sitting in the carrier wanted to join the hug. You laughed loud, picking him up. Holding him, you hugged Din once more. Grogu content as he had a big smile on his face.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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starsomens · 9 months

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“Where did she go Nick?” Noah was frantic, on the verge of tears and just flipping the room upside down

“Listen even if I wanted to tell you I swore to her I wouldn’t say a word” the drummer raised his hands.

Things between you and Noah were rocky. Time, schedules, petty arguments, even to the point of just ignoring each other and Noah staying over other places. You just couldn’t take more arguments or nights spent alone crying….you left him a note, blocked his number and never looked back.

Noah came home to your things gone, and a cold dark home. He thought you were just trying to get back at him, until the hours grew later into the afternoon. You had blocked him, on everything. Your friends wouldn’t say a word to him, and Nick had apparently known about it. You made him promise you not to crack and tell Noah, and he kept his promise.

He loved both of you. Noah was his close friend and front man, but you had also grown on him like a sister. He saw how unhappy you were becoming, so he kept his promise

“Nick I swear to fucking God, all she leaves is this note and it doesn’t solve shit for me!” Noah begins to become frustrated as he waves the note you left for him in the air.

“What does the note say?” Nick asks, before Noah could argue back “just read it”

“…..on the corner of first and amistad.”

Noah stares at his band mate and friend and it has finally hit him.

“….oh fuck…Fuck!” He grabs his jacket and speeds out of the door.

Where were you? When everything was falling apart…

He races down the street, making every turn possible to get to you as fast as he could. His mind was racing, his hands shook as he zipped through traffic. He had met you on the corner of a train station, and you were listening to The Fray, so it was always a reference you’d make….but this time it was different.

“Come on,come on” his mind races back to the days where he was stubborn, or when you were petty. How stupid those arguments were. How dumb it was to just ignore you, and now he was on the verge of losing everything he loved.

All my days were spent by telephone. That never rang, and all I needed was a call…

He makes it to the train station and park horribly. He’d probably get a ticket but that didn’t matter. What mattered right now was finding you, and stopping you from leaving. He could feel his chest filling with ache, his eye burned, and his head was pounding. He runs through the stations looking for you. Searching for you familiar face in the crowd

Lost and insecure, you found me, you found me, lying on the floor. Surrounded, surrounded, why’d you have to wait?

Once he finds you, he’ll hold you, and apologize and fix every wrong he’d done. He cousins lose you! He refused to let you go. His eyes land on a hat he knew too well. The one he had gives you from his closet to keep you warm. He makes his way through the crowded platform, praying the train wouldn’t arrive before he could reach you.

Well, in the end, everyone ends up alone. But losin her, the only one who’s ever know. Who I am, who I’m not, who I wanna be…

“E-excuse me, sorry. Y/N!” He calls out your name, the sweet beautiful name he adores. Each time he said it he couldn’t help but smile. He regretted every time he’d say it with venom in his tone. Your name deserved to be spoken only with love “Y/N!!”

Now way to know how long she will be next to me…

He finally reached the end of the endless crowd and reaches out to you. His hand lands on your shoulder and you spin around. You pluck the ear buds from your ears and stare at him in shock.

“Y/N…I…I found you…” he said out of breath

“You….did…” was all you responded to him

“Y/N…please don’t do this. Not like this please just come home” he tells you as he looked at your luggage.

I’ve been callin, for years and years and years, and you never left me no messages…

“Noah. I can’t…not anymore” you didn’t look at him. Keeping you eyes down to the ground, or on the recaps waiting on your train “…I…I wasn’t important enough for you to take the time and fix things…so why now?” You asked him still keeping you gaze lowered

“I was stupid Y/N, please believe me I want to fix this I really do. I was….just…..lost and insecure…” he said as he realized exactly where you were

“….so why’d you have to wait?” You finally look at him “….wait until it was broken for you to try and fix it?! I��I loved you Noah…I-i…” it broke his heart to hear you so broken, to hear your voice cracking and breaking, the tears that ran down your blushed cheeks

“And I love you Y/N! I loved you then, now and I will forever please. I love you” you takes a hold of your hands and brings you close to him, resting his forehand against yours, holding your knuckles to his lips “I love you so much….please don’t leave….i found you..”

“You found me…” you reply back “where were you?”

“…just a little late”

“Why’d you have to wait?” You retreat your hands and take a step back from Noah. You take the hat off and hand it to him. You walk toward the edge of the platform as your train pulls in. He watched as you slipped form his fingers, his grip trying to hold on to your hands, before they finally slipped. The doors opened and you take your first step into the train

“Y/N! Please!” He calls out to you gripping the hat in his hand as tears ran down his cheeks. Your heart ached at the sight but you cousins gave him anymore. In fear that both do your tears would bring you both back to where it all started.

“To find me? (To find me..)”

You were gone.

#bad omens #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #noahsebastian #badomens #bad omens band #bad omens fanfiction #star’s blurbs✨#Spotify

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gosmigenergy · 1 year

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KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Eleven

( Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller x F!Reader )

BODY HAIR/SHAVING / EXHIBITIONISM/VOYEURISM / TEASING

Summary: Your waxing appointment gets cancelled but Will offers to help sort you out.

Day eleven of @absurdthirst's Kinktober

Rating: Mature 18+

Warnings: Mentions of pubic hair, mentions of razors / blades (no bodily harm), oral - male receiving, facial, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.2k

“Everything alright?”

Will heard your exasperated groan and came to check on you.

“Yeah, well, sort of,” you toss your phone away from you.

You had already expressed to him that you found this time of year stressful, what with your job in the shop and three holiday seasons approaching. They were taking advantage of you and you were technically doing five jobs in one, he was figuring a polite way of telling you to quit that didn’t make it seem like he had no idea how hard it was to find another.

“What does sort of mean?”

“I had an appointment this afternoon but they had to cancel,” you shrug. “They said they’d give me a discount for it being so last minute.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad.”

You scoff, “No, it’s not too bad. It’s just… I’m hairy.”

Sometimes he had to smile at how prude you were, the topic wasn’t really that taboo when you were sharing yourself with four guys.

“You know I don’t mind.”

You chew the inside of your lip.

“I know you don’t, I kind of do though. Because I was getting it waxed, I didn’t see the harm in leaving it grow a little longer and now it’s out of control.”

For you anyway.

Most of the time, you slipped your appointments during your free time or on the rare days where the boys didn’t overlap. Hair down there didn’t bother you, you usually had a high leg bikini or occasionally an, as Benny put it, air strip, a full bush had never been for you.

“Have you ever had anyone shave you?”

You blinked at him.

“I’ve heard it’s actually quite intimate,” he spoke with a glint in his eye.

Will was a generous partner, he’d do anything to assure your happiness, it’s why he had to learn everything about you mentally and physically.

“Would you like to do it?” You ask him, voice soft.

“Sweetheart, you know I would.”

You gave a blushing smile, he didn’t want you to be embarrassed but he’s happy your smiling.

“Come on, we’ll take the bike and pick up some supplies.”

You approached him with a confused expression, cocking your head to one side as you pressed your body to his. Your arms wrap over his shoulders, his hands meeting your lower back as he holds you close. You peck him on the cheek, just above his whiskers.

“You kept that one quiet.”

He dropped his head, his nose brushing yours.

“You never asked.”

He snatches your lips before you can retort.

At the shop, the pair of you stared at columns and rows of different razors, each one claiming to be the best close shave, best for legs, best for the bikini line.

He could never have imagined so many after years of going to the men’s section and plucking his old faithful from the small selection. He referred to his phone for help as you picked up a box and read the back until you swore you were going crosseyed. You were equally as lost, swimming through the sea of pink, purple and rose gold, praying that one would throw you a lifeline.

“I didn’t think it would be this difficult,” you laugh nervously. “How about this one?”

He hums, “It’s not had the best reviews, one even said she nipped herself so bad, she thought she was going to bleed out.”

It was a tad dramatic.

You threw the razor back on the tiny hook from once it came.

“This one comes with a cleanser.”

“Razor blunts really quickly,” he grumbles.

It’s in his best interest for this to go well, he would very much like this to become a regular occurrence that you can share.

“How about just getting a men’s razor?”

You look over your shoulder at him until he stops staring at the screen with knotted brows.

“I mean, you know how to use it, right?”

His features softened, grateful that you trusted him.

The cashier’s eyebrows twitch when Will handed over the basket.

“Did you see the way he looked a you?”

“I think the Hello Kitty kitchen towels really threw him.”

After dinner, Will insisted on setting up the bedroom even as you told him not to make a big deal out of it. It wasn’t up to his usual romantic standards but he lit the candle you insisted on getting to fill the room with the smell of an apple orchard, all the items he’d need to shave you laid at the end of the bed, a bowl of warm water on the floor.

He called you in and asked for you to strip.

“I was expecting worse…”

He was inspecting your pubic hair, arms folded to his chest. Your skin felt prickly under his intense gaze.

“I’ll trim you with my razor first then move on to a closer shave.”

You step into his shower, his idea of not getting hair everywhere more plausible. Taking the electric razor in his hand, a plastic trimmer present at the end, he switched it on. He went straight up the middle first before combing out. Lifting your right leg over his shoulder, he trimmed along your outer lips and did the same with the left side, even catching the stray hairs between your ass cheeks.

He wiped his large hand to brush off the excess hair.

This process would be less distracting if he hadn’t chosen to get undressed down to his underwear.

Guiding you from the bathroom, he takes you to the bed and sits you down on the towel. You lay your back to the mattress and follow the same movements you would do on the waxing table, pressing the soles of your feet together and dropping your knees outward. You pull your stomach to stretch the skin taut, that’s normally how they do things.

“Oh, I love a girl who doesn’t need to be told.”

His comment causes your pussy to twitch.

“Will,” you groan, “don’t make this more awkward than this already is.”

Holding his hands up, he comes to his knees in front of you. He nimbly picks up the razor and balances it on his fingers then drops it to one side, the slosh of water hitting your ears. Shuffling nearer, he lifts his frame to position himself above your mound.

The razor glides seamlessly over the valley of the joint between your hip and leg, it was only a test to see if it worked. His eyes narrowed, a finger running over the now hairless patch.

“How do you want it?”

You don’t say anything as you bring your one hand down and lay three fingers over your pubic hair as an indicator before taking it away.

“I can do that,” he swills the razor again.

Coming back to you, he takes measured strokes, the pressure heavy enough to cut but light as it ran across your skin.

Wherever he heard about this act wasn’t lying about the intimacy.

His other hand was on the inside of your thigh, the thumbs stroking gently as his hot breath teased your exposed folds. The room was so quiet, the light scrape of the metal unassuming and sort of rhythmic in it’s own way. Though you couldn’t see his eyes, you could feel them observing how your body reacted to the blade.

When he finished the one side, he patted it dry.

“Any good?”

You straighten up and cock your head, the line you saw crisp and accurate.

“That’s amazing.”

His face brightened.

He pokes at you to lay back down before starting the other side.

Something changed in your body, Will watched as you exhaled a long breath, the tension you were holding lifting. Your leg fell a smidge wider and you closed your eyes to shut off the rest of the space, it was just you and him.

“I’m just gonna neaten you up,” he said when he finished the top.

Shuffling back, he cleaned the razor and fixed his gaze on the inside of your leg. He shaved the few areas he couldn’t reach at a higher angle, pulling your labia aside so he could get right in there and know it was a job well done.

He took your glistening folds as a compliment.

“Want to take a look?”

You focused back on the room.

He stood up, offering a hand which you took gladly. Relaxing your legs, you hop off the bed and he takes you to the full length mirror in the bathroom, switching on the light to fill the space with a white glow.

Your mouth parted, eyes widening as you took another step towards the mirror. Your hair was neat and tidy enough to have been done by a professional, he’d even rubbed a little cream in to protect the skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Will admiring you in the mirror and you’re sure your heart burst.

In a matter of seconds, you had your arms firmly wrapped to his neck, dragging him down so you could press your lips forcefully to his.

“So you like it?” He asks, catching his breath.

“I love it, Will, I love you,” you’re beaming up at him, refusing to let go. “Not many guys would be as inclined as you.”

He starts to unfurl your grip on him.

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

You place your palms onto his bare chest, his heartbeat soft and slow, then teased your fingertips featherlight down his stomach.

“Maybe I could show you my appreciation.”

“And how’s that?”

His tongue flicked over his lips when he felt your index fingers tuck behind the waistband of his underwear. You ran your hand along the elastic, knuckles grazing his navel, his cock twitching against your thigh as you tuck it into his crotch.

A smile came to his lips, cheeks turning another shade of pink.

“Well, I’m not going to say no.”

You giggle before kissing him again, deepening it as he opened his mouth and allowed your tongue entry. His cock was hardening underneath the thin fabric, the touch along his waist beckoning for it to come. He chases your lips when you pull away but you move quickly, falling to your knees, taking his underwear with you.

You bump your nose to his semi-hardened cock and he shudders, his breath gravelly.

Salivating, you push out your tongue and lick from his balls all the way up, his cock stiffening as you drag. You moisten your lips before wrapping them around his tip to the sound of his moan.

Glancing up, he’d already closed his eyes, his delicate lashes and freckled skin highlighted by the fluorescent bulb. He always looked so fucking pretty when he relaxed, when he wasn’t keeping up appearances.

You roll your tongue over his ridge and taste the saltiness of his precum against the lining of your mouth. You suck his tip before hollowing out and gradually slid down to the base of his cock, a flex in your throat as you stopped.

A hand rests on the top of your head, smoothing your hair.

You pulled back before you choked, taking big breaths after you dropped him. His cock stood proudly, veins prominent, balls sagging filled with cum. As you wrap your lips around him, ready to take his cock all the way, he grabs a fistful of your lock, the sting on your scalp as he tugs.

Craning your neck, your faces meet.

His lids are heavy, the exact opposite to yours.

“Take it slow.”

His throat is dry, voice rough, your pussy clenches round nothing.

You nod and his fingers relaxes.

Returning your lips to his cock, you suck before taking all of him inch by inch as slow as you could and continued until he began to undo.

When you reached the base of his cock, he bucked, notching the back of your throat. You choked yet didn’t falter, tears pricking in your eyes as you composed. He rolled his hips a little gentler and when he wasn’t met with any resistance, picked up the pace.

Your sloppy glugs bounced off the tiles.

His hand coiled around the edge of the sink, jaw seizing shut, his grunts caught in his throat. You place your hand on his pert ass as his thrusts struggle to keep momentum, guiding him deeper. He was on the last leg when he chose to pull out, a string of spit falling from your sullied lips.

Snatching his cock, you lean back and poke out your tongue, ready for his load.

You pump him, milk him until he lets out a strangled groan.

He coats you with his seed, hot and sticky, droplets hitting your tongue as the rest paints your face, your chest.

Combing his fingers through his hair, he tilts his head back like he’s coming up for air. His lungs expand before he sighs, the muscles of his chest juddering with the exhale. He blinks, eyes adjusting to the light and when he finally sees you, he smiles from ear to ear.

You make a show of scooping his cum with your fingers, sucking it from your fingers, smacking your lips as you swallowed.

You thought Will was a generous partner but he thought you were equally so.

#kinktober 2023 #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #will ironhead miller #will miller x reader #will miller x you #kinktober

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impala-dreamer · 1 year

Text

Chace You Down

A Short Story

~Y/N travels with her new boss, Jensen Ackles, to Hawaii for the Sony Open golf tournament and gets more than a little distracted by a new acquaintance.~

Chace Crawford x Reader, Jensen Ackles

6,600 Words

Warnings: Absolute uncompromising Fluff. You will feel the sun and smell the ocean air, bask in the glow of a stranger's stare. It is deliciously romantic and annoying and wonderful.

The airport was crowded even at five in the morning and Y/N struggled to keep up with her new boss, finding that his stride was just about twice as long as hers and ten times as quick.

Jensen was already at the gate when she caught up, close to panting as she balanced a tray of Starbucks in one hand and a wallet with their tickets in the other. Her bag was slipping off her left shoulder and when she stopped short, the entire thing came crumbling down. The bag slid down to her elbow and the coffee left her hand, somehow jumping two inches into the air when she reached for the wayward strap.

Boss Man was quick, reacting like a true superhero. In a flash, he dropped his carryon and lunged for the tray, relieving Y/N of the embarrassment of spilling two Americanos all over the ugly airport carpeting and herself.

She gasped and stared in wonder at the green-eyed devil, thankful and more nervous than ever.

He’s gonna fire me before we even get airborne, she thought.

Jensen smiled kindly.

“Steady there, kid,” he teased, a gentle laugh on his breath. “You OK?”

“Yeah. I think so.” Y/N took a calming breath and righted the bag on her shoulder, quickly scanned the wallet to make sure the paperwork was still in order, and reached for the coffee tray.

Jensen pulled it back. “Uh, no. I’ll… handle the caffeine. You just… take a second to catch your breath.”

He hates me.

Y/N shook herself quickly and exhaled a quick huff. “Sorry. I’m a little frazzled first thing in the morning.” Her huff turned into a yawn and she struggled to hide it by clenching her jaw.

Jensen squinted at her and bit his lip. “Get any sleep last night? I know I had you up pretty early.”

Yeah, I was up approximately all night long, terrified, but thanks.

“Not really.” Y/N answered, laughing softly. “Little bit of a nervous flyer. Still kinda nervous around you. Nervous in general, really. Kinda all over a mess. I’m sure you’re finding that out. I’m sorry about that. Probably shoulda been on my resume. ‘She’s a disaster! Do not hire!’ But here we are.”

Jensen blinked slowly, wide-eyed and amused by her rambling.

“Sorry. I talk a bit too much when I’m nervous. Have I said the word ‘nervous’ too many times? I feel like I’ve said it too much. You know when you start to say something over and over and over and it starts to sound wrong? Nervous… Nerve… Us… Nerve-”

Kindly, Jensen held up a finger to his pursed lips, shushing her. “Calm down, Y/N.”

She sucked in a heavy breath and held it, nodding up at him. “Sorry.”

“You’re doing fine.” He smiled and plucked his ticket from the wallet in her hand. “Let’s just get on board and settled and you can get some rest.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, still nodding like a bobblehead. “Rest. Yes.”

“It’s a long flight.”

“Yeah…”

Jensen grinned. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

With a wink, he turned on his heel and gave his attention to the blonde attendant behind the gate desk.

Great. You’re supposed to be taking care of him and he’s flipped the script.

“Coming?” he asked, looking back over his shoulder.

Y/N chewed her lip and smiled, steeling herself. “On my way, boss!”

First class was way nicer than Y/N had imagined and she quickly settled in, sure that she could spend the six hour flight to Honolulu with a minimum amount of discomfort and only one or two minor freak outs.

Jensen got comfy right away, tucking himself into the seat by the window and lowering the bill of his black ball cap. It was strange to Y/N just how much the hat worked. They hadn’t been stopped by a single fan the entire walk through the airport, although, she noted, it was so early she doubted anyone else was even awake. Jensen buckled and then busied himself on his phone, shooting off a few last minute messages while the cabin doors were still open.

On the aisle, Y/N perched on the edge of her seat, watching with flitting eyes as other passengers shuffled in. The usual parade of folks made their way past them and down into the depths of the plane. A few cute elderly couples in matching Hawaiian shirts, ladies with giant sun hats, and men in wrinkled polos. There was the standard young couple wrangling three kids under five, and a posh looking woman with a service dog stuffed into her purse. Business men, a teenager with his headphones blaring, and on and on until they were stuffed in the aisle and Y/N could barely breathe.

A few people waved at Jensen, a young girl nearly screeched into her hand, all smiling and polite, all ignoring Y/N in favor of their favorite T.V. star. He took it like a champ, waving back, saying good morning, always smiling, always kind. Y/N wondered how he didn’t lose his mind with everyone fawning over him, and yet, she wished just one person would say hello to her.

“Well, hello.”

A tall figure cast a shadow over Y/N, but she didn’t bother looking up right away. She knew the greeting wasn’t for her.

The stranger cleared his throat and Y/N looked up, finding a handsome smile and bright blue eyes gazing down at her. His stare was deep and intrigued and Y/N felt her cheeks burn. She swallowed hard and blinked herself back into reality.

“Hi,” he said again.

Y/N opened her mouth but nothing came out. The cabin lights shone down on him, highlighting the faint strands of blond in his coffee-colored hair, the gentle slope of his nose, the cut of his brow. She was stunned for a long moment before Jensen’s voice broke the trance.

“Hey, brother!”

Jensen leaned over Y/N to shake the man’s hand and she took a deep breath, flooding her sense’s with conflicting colognes. She coughed and the men split apart, giving her room to breathe.

“Sorry,” Jensen laughed gently. “Chace, this is my new assistant, Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N/N, my buddy Chace Crawford.”

The name and face clicked together in her mind and Y/N knew immediately who he was, but kept herself in check, calmly nodding a smile up at him.

“Nice to meet you,” she said softly.

Chace backed up a step and looked her over quickly. “Same here.” He grinned and lingered on her lips a moment too long and Y/N felt her stomach flip nervously. “You excited for Hawaii?”

A large group of passengers had backed up behind him, but Chace paid them no mind. He waited, eyes fixed on Y/N, smile brilliantly sly and intriguing.

She shivered. “Uh, yeah. I mean… yeah. It’s exciting.”

Jensen leaned over to relieve her. “She’s a nervous flyer,” he explained while teasing her just enough to calm her down.

Y/N laughed and nodded. “That I am.”

Chace stretched out his arms across the aisle, resting one hand on the back of the seat in front of her, the other across the way. He bit down into the corner of his mouth and narrowed his eyes on Y/N.

“Well, that’s no good. We’ll have to keep you distracted.”

Her pulse quickened at his suggestive tone and she shifted in her seat, seemingly uncomfortable.

From the door, a short crimson-haired flight attendant cleared her throat rather loudly and picked up the intercom, casting her annoyance over the loudspeaker.

“Please keep the aisle free so that fellow passengers can find their seats… Thank you.”

Chace either didn’t hear the announcement or didn’t care. He stayed right where he was, silently flirting with his new acquaintance.

Not unappreciative of the attention, Y/N stared right back, trying not to get lost in the ocean of his eyes or the way the scruff on his lip accentuated his mouth just so.

Struggling to break free, she sat up straight and nodded at the line of people behind him. “I think she was talking to you.”

Chace leaned in a little closer, smirking. “Who?”

“The… flight attendant…” She laughed at his obliviousness. “You’re holding up the line.”

A glance over his shoulder had him startled and Chace flipped around, plopping down into the seat across from Y/N. “Oops.” He shrugged at her and settled into the chair, angling himself so that he could still look at Y/N.

The parade began again, and Y/N tried to calm down, pushing her head back into the seat. “Your friend’s kinda funny,” she said quietly, aiming her voice at Jensen.

He looked up from his phone and peered over at Chace. “Yeah. I think he likes you.”

Y/N jolted. “What? No. Nah.”

Through a break in the line, Chace called to Y/N.

“Psst…”

She turned just in time to get a face full of khaki covered ass. “Ugh. What?”

Around the backside, Chace tried to find her. “Come sit with me.”

“What?”

A toddler pranced passed, stopping to wave at Y/N who smiled and waved back.

“Come sit with me,” he said again over the child’s head. “The window seat’s empty.”

Y/N shook her head. “No way. I’m fine here, thanks.”

Only slightly defeated, he slumped back in his seat. “I’ll just have to shout across the aisle the whole time then.”

“Sucks for you, then,” Y/N called back, twisting her neck to see around a pair of gray sweat pants.

“Don’t leave me here all alone, Y/N…”

Her name rolling off of his tongue was like honey dripping down her body and Y/N took a slow, deep breath, ignoring the tingling it invoked.

“Sorry, Charlie. I’m quite comfy in my own seat.”

A portly man in baggy jeans squished by.

“It’s Chace.”

Y/N hummed in question. “What’s that?”

The procession ceased and Y/N found him staring again, bright eyes locked to her face, smile soft and inviting.

“My name.”

He rested his head against the seat, pressed his elbow on the armrest, watching her intently.

“Oh? Sorry,” she lied, trying to knock him off his path. “I forgot.”

He grinned and looked away, settling in for the long ride. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I bet you did.”

The flight was mostly uneventful.

Jensen napped for a good portion of the journey, the brim of his cap turned down over his eyes like some modern Indiana Jones. Y/N tried to read but Chace was persistent, and they chatted on and off for most of the ride.

Y/N found that she really did enjoy his obvious interest, but she played it cool, not wanting to come off like some crazed fan. After a few months following Jensen around, she knew how to keep the excitement inside when meeting famous folk. She didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. After a few hours, he seemed just like a normal guy anyway, so it was easy to keep herself together.

Somewhere in the middle of the Pacific, a bout of turbulence rocked the airplane so harshly that Y/N thought she would soon meet God. Her knuckles blanched on the armrest and her jaw clenched so tightly that her teeth began to hurt. She held her breath, eyes screwed shut, and prayed that the end would come quickly. If she was going to die, she’d rather get it over with before they crashed into the sea.

When the rumbling calmed, she unclenched herself enough to realize that sometime during her panic, Chace had reached for her, and their hands were clasped tightly across the aisle. She exhaled slowly and fell deep into the knowledge that he’d helped her through the worst of it. His palm was big and warm, his long fingers were soft and wrapped around hers a little too perfectly.

Embarrassed, she pulled away and adjusted herself, smoothing down her shirt and fiddling with her hair.

“You really are a nervous flyer,” he joked, sitting back.

Y/N wanted to scream but she swallowed it down. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Chace shook her apology away. “Don’t mention it. Glad I could help.”

Me too…

He seemed so sweet, so adorably genuine and kind, but Y/N wasn’t interested in anything but doing her job. She smiled back and sighed.

He is really hot though…

Jensen woke himself with a loud snuffled snore and sat up, looking around with blurry eyes. “What’d I miss?”

Y/N had everything arranged for their arrival. She’d ordered a car - a nice, nondescript yet very fancy black Navigator, pre-checked in at the hotel, and even had a welcome basket with local treats set up in Jensen’s suite. Everything was going to be perfect. She was nailing their first trip.

Well, maybe not nailing it. Still doing a pretty good job. An OK job at the very least. She would have been doing better had Chace not insisted on hitching a ride from the airport with them, squishing himself into the seat next to her, and basically following her every move. ‘Hey, we’re all going to the same place, right?’ he’d said, eyes forever undoing the buttons on her blouse.

Jensen didn’t seem to mind, enjoying catching up with his former costar, but Y/N was a tad annoyed. She had to make things perfect for Jensen; that was the entire reason she was there. He didn’t really need an assistant anyway, not the way some actors did. She was basically a glorified gofer, forever fetching him coffee and organizing his scripts, sorting his mail, answering his mail, and making sure he got where he was going on schedule. Between her nerves and basic clumsiness, she was sure she was close to losing his patience and her job. Things needed to go well.

The hotel was simply breathtaking. Somewhere between the gorgeous surroundings and beautiful guests, Y/N felt a little lost. She felt underdressed and out of place, but did her best to focus on her job. She stood in the humid heat of mid-day and flagged down a bellhop, oversaw the distribution of luggage from the car, and handled the tip. Inside, she quickly got their room keys, made sure everything was in order, and waved Jensen down in the lobby.

He and Chace had been found out by a gaggle of fans, and she stood back for a moment while they graciously smiled for a few selfies.

“I can’t imagine ever getting used to that,” she commented when the young girls had moved on.

Jensen shrugged. “Part of the job. I don’t mind.”

Chace’s gaze was back on Y/N, seemingly enthralled by her every word and fluttering, nervous movements.

You’re gonna burn a hole in me, dude…

“Anyway,” Y/N shuffled the keys in her hand and gave Jensen his. “You’re in Suite 408. I made sure you have a balcony with an ocean view. I’m in 207, but my phone is always on, as you know. I made you dinner reservations at nine in the lounge, I hope that’s OK. If not, I can always change it. Um… pool is open till midnight, there’s a private gym on your floor… what else? It’s noon here so… a little after four in Austin if you want to call home, but I think JJ is at a birthday party this evening, so they may have already left. I can text Marie and find out if-”

Per usual, Jensen held up a gentle hand and gestured for Y/N to take a breath.

“You’re awesome,” he said simply. “Everything’s great. Thank you.”

Y/N held her breath for a quick moment and exhaled slowly. “Thank you.”

Dipping his chin, he looked her in the eyes and smiled. “Go take a break. I don’t need you for the rest of the day. Sunday is yours.”

She hesitated, but then nodded. “Thanks, Jensen.”

He was gone with a wave, making his way to the elevators as a posh looking bellhop followed behind.

Y/N had just about caught her breath when she remembered her shadow was still lurking. Chace leaned on his rolling suitcase handle and grinned.

“So here we are,” he said, “two strangers in paradise…”

Oh dammit, why me?

“Here we are,” she agreed, nervously chewing at her lip.

He took a step and her stomach tightened.

Gosh, he’s pretty…

“Wanna come see my room?”

She nearly choked on her shock. “What?” A laugh overtook her and Chace backed away slowly. “Are you serious? We just met and I do not know you. I’m not gonna go check out your room, dude. Gross.”

Realizing his misstep, Chace held up his palms in surrender and looked contrite. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant-”

Y/N shook her head and stepped around him, escaping quickly. “I know what you meant. And… honestly… no.”

She left him there in the middle of the lobby looking like a lost little boy, blue eyes wide with obvious sadness, flip flops frozen on the polished tile floor.

Trying to save face, he waved a farewell and called out to her. “OK! Maybe later then! I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other!”

Y/N refused to turn back, hiding her smile and sticking to her guns. But still, when the elevator doors began to close, she caught his eye and felt the sparks of something passing between them.

It was only a few seconds, but it was undeniable and Y/N sighed heavily.

Well… shit.

It was a humid heat, so much so that stepping out of the safety of the enclosed hotel provoked a line of sweat to instantly trickle down her spine.

Y/N shuddered at the feeling and adjusted her sunglasses, hiding her precious eyes from the blazing sun. There was a slight breeze and it blew through the palm trees with majestic grace, but brought more hot air, so Y/N made her way to the pool, determined to try and relax just a little bit.

She sat in a lounger and stretched out in the sun, feeling good. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the scent of sunscreen and tropical air, a hint of chlorine from the water and Chace’s heavy cologne.

Chace’s cologne?

Quickly, she sat up and popped her eyes open, finding the man standing to her left, casting a cooling shadow over her. He had changed into bright swim trunks and a tight fitting white tee, and held two frozen drinks in his big hands. Giant sunglasses hid his eyes but Y/N could feel his stare all the same.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, looking up into the halo around him.

“Thought I’d find you out here,” he said, taking a seat on the lounger next to her. “Brought you a pina colada.” He held out the drink in his right hand and Y/N cringed at it, cocking a brow.

“I don’t do coconut, sorry,” she lied, turning her nose up at the offering.

Chace tongued his cheek and laughed. “Guess it’s a good thing this is a Mai Tai then.”

Annoyed but stuck, Y/N sighed and took the drink. “You have an answer for most things, don’t you?”

He grinned and laid back, kicking his feet up onto the chair. “Usually.”

So cute… I mean, smug. Smug! So smug… and cute. Damnit.

“Enjoying yourself so far?”

Y/N settled back and took a sip. “Yeah. I mean, I guess. Little tired.”

“How’s your room?”

She huffed in annoyance.

He laughed.

“I don’t mean like that,” he told her, shaking his head. “I’m just being polite.”

Y/N softened and smiled. “Room’s good. Yours?”

A smirk lit his lips. “I could show you, if you’re interested…”

She would have smacked him if she could reach, but that would have just pushed him onward. She rolled her eyes instead.

“You’re just so cool, aren’t you?”

Chace shrugged. “When I need to be.”

The drink was cold and Y/N ran the rim across her lips, enjoying the cool bite. Chace lowered his glasses to the edge of his nose so he could watch, blatantly in awe of her.

When she caught him, he jolted back into place and cleared his throat.

“So… been working for Ackles long?” he asked, hoping she would ignore his staring and the way it made him shift and adjust his shorts.

“Not really. Few weeks now. It’s really… he’s great. He’s just the nicest, most genuine, awesome guy. I’m really lucky.”

Chace raised a brow. “You’re not giving an interview, ya know. Tell me how you really feel. I won’t rat on you.”

Y/N scoffed. “It’s true! He’s really just… overall, I mean… I have no complaints. He probably has many, but he’s so sweet. It’s a great job.”

“Getting up at the crack of dawn to mix the guy’s protein shakes and make his coffee is a great job?”

“Well, I mean… could be worse.”

“Does he make ya fold his socks too?”

Y/N pursed her lips. “He packs himself, thank you.”

“Mhm…”

“Honestly, I don’t even really know why I’m here. He barely needs me at home, this is just… I don’t know.”

“Maybe he thought you could use a break.” Chace took a sip and then let the straw dangle on his bottom lip. “He is a nice guy, after all…”

His words made it into her head, but Y/N was distracted by the straw and the way it stuck to his lip. As she stared, he reached for it with his tongue and she squeezed her thighs together, overly intrigued.

Damn… Don’t look at his tongue, what are you doing! Stop that!

“Maybe, yeah…” she answered finally, prying her eyes away from his mouth. “Anyway, it’s a lovely hotel and I’m sure it’ll be a great week. If you’ll excuse me…”

She stood up too quickly and nearly tipped over. Chace was quick to catch her, standing as she did and holding her steady with a gentle hand on her arm.

His touch burned her skin in the best way but she panicked and tore away from him, turning back to the hotel.

“You don’t have to run off…”

I really do. Oh boy, do I…

Flustered, she waved him off. “Yeah. It’s… I’m sorry. I need to go make some calls before it gets too late back home.”

Chace pouted and her heart skipped a beat.

Don’t you dare use that lip at me like that… holy…

“Screw the phone calls. Stay. Take a swim with me.”

The idea of seeing him in the pool, of watching the water bead off of his naked chest and run down those big arms had Y/N squirming again. She clenched hard and exhaled quickly, shaking her head.

“You gotta stop trying to get me alone, dude. Not gonna happen.”

“Alone?” He laughed. “The pool’s full of people. We’re surrounded.”

She squared her shoulders. “You know what I mean. Goodbye.” Spinning on her heel, she walked off, desperate to stop the throbbing between her thighs.

Chace once again stood alone and rejected, waving her off with a smile. “Can’t blame a guy for tryin’.”

Golf, it turned out, was boring as shit. Standing in the hot tropical sun silently watching a bunch of celebrities, even beautiful ones, golf was even more so. Y/N spent most of each day hiding in what little shade there was and mindlessly nibbling on the refreshments as they cycled past.

Still, she kept her eyes on Jensen, cheering when appropriate, bringing him iced water when he waved her over. He was having a blast, and unfortunately, so was his buddy.

Chase was radiant in the bright sunshine, smiling, joking around with fans, carrying on like a fool. It was hard to keep her gaze off of him, hard to stop imagining what the flexing muscles of his arms would feel like wrapped around her back as they rolled beneath cool sheets in her room.

More than a few times, Jensen caught her staring off in Chace’s general direction and had to snap her back into reality.

“You ready?”

Y/N sighed happily at the image in her head, completely lost to the idea of naked body surfing beneath a full moon with a certain someone.

Jensen snapped his fingers in front of her eyes and Y/N jumped, nearly spilling the tall glass of water in her hand.

“Holy!”

“Hey… sorry.” Jensen took a step back and laughed. “You were zoned way out. You OK?”

Y/N shook herself and tore her eyes away from Chace so was sauntering into the viewer’s tent, close enough now that she would see the sweat on his thick neck.

Jensen. Jensen. Focus on your boss.

She cleared her throat. “Yep. Sorry. Just a little… It’s hot out here, isn’t it? I’m not used to the heat.”

Cautiously, Jensen held out his hand, palm turned inwards, and reached for her forehead. Y/N laughed gently as he tested her temperature, looking like a true dad.

“Yeah, you’re really warm,” he commented, eyes narrowed on her, investigating. “Let’s get you back to the hotel.”

“I’m sure I’m fine,” she said with a smile. “It’s just a thousand degrees out here.”

And your friend is making me dizzy…

“Still. We’ll go relax tonight, yeah?” Jensen set his hand on her shoulder and pushed gently towards the exit. She turned and let him lead the way.

“Leaving so soon?”

Blue eyes caught every ounce of her attention and Y/N nearly tripped over her sandals. She stumbled and Chace steadied her once again; his cat-like reflexes on display, adding fuel to her daydreams.

“Whoa…”

He laughed and Y/N gasped, pulling away to stand up on her own.

“Sorry.” Her cheeks burned and not from the sun.

Chace grinned. “You keep falling into me. Can’t say I hate it.”

Y/N tried to roll her eyes in annoyance but it was hard to pretend. The top of his nose was a little sunburnt and she couldn’t stop staring.

“Yeah, well, maybe you’re just in my way a lot,” she said finally, huffing a bit at the end.

In my way… in my dream last night… damnit go away.

A flick of pink tongue against chapped lips made her knees weak.

“Maybe I am…”

Jensen cleared his throat behind them and Y/N nearly had a heart attack. He was smiling when she looked back, but the nerves over her job were once more getting the best of her.

“Sorry. Right. Um-” She looked to Chace and offered an awkward wave. “Bye.”

Chace was taken aback, shifting to full height. “Bye?” He looked at Jensen and then back at Y/N. “Thought we were all grabbing dinner tonight.”

“Dinner?” Y/N echoed.

Jensen affirmed. “Yeah, why not?”

There is no way you can maintain any semblance of professionalism while watching that man eat… Damn.

Y/N stammered, looking for a viable excuse. “Well… I mean. I’m not- I’m not feeling too great. I think I’ll just grab something and eat in my room if that’s OK. You guys go have fun. I’m not… yeah, I- I can’t really… um…”

Jensen cocked a brow and glared down at her. “No. You’re coming. End of discussion.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Chace chimed in, offering Y/N his arm. “Boss man insists.”

For a moment, Y/N considered breaking out into a run, but it really was very hot and the tiny finger sandwiches she’d been picking on all day hadn’t quite filled her up. Also, Chace was looking at her with the sweetest, possibly most endearing puppy dog eyes she’d ever seen.

He’s the devil. Stay away.

With a sigh, she relented and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, instantly regretting the intimate touch.

God, he’s… firm…

“That’s better.” Jensen clapped a hand on each of their backs and gave a little shove. “Hurry up, I’m starving.”

Table for three underneath a canopy of giant leaves and fairy lights, with the ocean one side and the gorgeous hotel on the other. The breeze was warm and the candlelight mesmerizing as it danced along Chace’s face, forever highlighting a new spot for Y/N to lock into and become slightly obsessed over.

Jensen kept the conversation light and flowing, but Y/N could barely pay attention. She was stuck in a deep ocean of beautiful blue eyes and a smirk that made her thighs clench each time she saw it. She was falling hard, and rather annoyed by it.

Whenever Chace took a chance, she shot it down. Each time he tried to make her laugh, she rolled her eyes. Every time she caught him staring her heart would nearly explode, beating much too fast.

They’d spent sunset with a bottle of very expensive red wine that Jensen insisted upon, and tongues were slowly loosening. As the sky darkened, they switched to rum and Y/N felt as if she were floating above the table, staring down at a dream.

She finally gave in and laughed a little, smiled more freely, gave in to the flirting and gentle prodding. It wasn’t half bad, even if playing hard to get was way more fun.

Chace stuck the end of a crab leg between his teeth and sucked hard, slurping out whatever meat was left.

Y/N laughed around a bite of salmon. “Sure you wouldn’t prefer the octopus?”

Shocked, his eyes widened and he dropped the shell. “You do watch the show! I knew it.”

Biting her lip, Y/N shrugged. “Maybe…”

Jensen laughed and blew up her spot. “Don’t let her fool you, she’s seen it all. And read ahead in scripts, and commented on everything. She’s great.”

Embarrassed, she hid her eyes. “Whatever…”

Chace leaned in and grabbed his drink. “Here I was thinking you had no idea who I was…”

Y/N mirrored him, leaning over just enough to give him a view down her top. “Didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about me. I’d hate to make anyone uncomfortable… thinking I was a fan or something.”

He rolled the rim of his glass over his bottom lip, narrowing his eyes at her. “So you’re not?”

Y/N licked her lip slowly and lifted her glass. “Not yet…”

Waves crashed upon the shore and a warm silence cascaded over the table as Y/N and Chace fell deeper into each other’s gaze. She took a sip of rum and felt the heat travel through her system, flooding her with a hazy arousal that was both exciting and relaxing. She licked her lip, chasing an errant drop of liquor and laughed gently as Chace’s jaw dropped in awe.

Feeling rather left out, Jensen clicked his tongue.

“Should I leave you two alone?” he asked, knocking back the rest of his drink.

Quickly, Y/N shook herself and let the spell break. She sat up straight and grabbed her napkin, dabbing her mouth and tossing herself back into reality.

“Um… what?” She laughed, hoping to distract from her behavior. “No! Don’t be silly.”

Jensen rolled his eyes but smiled kindly, and Chace sucked his teeth, leaning back.

“All the same,” Jensen said, pushing his chair away from the table, “I think I’m gonna hit the hay. My arms are killin’ me.”

Y/N stood with him. “Oh. Well, I can run and get you some Advil if you need or-”

Jensen waved her off. “Please. Stay and have dessert. I’m fine. Just tired.”

Oh sweet Lord, Jensen don’t leave me alone with him…

“Are you sure?”

“I am.” Dropping his napkin on the table, he nodded at Chace and then smiled at Y/N. “You two have fun.”

Chace grinned. “I’m sure we will.”

Oh crap.

Y/N swallowed hard. “Well… good night, then.”

Jensen was gone too quickly and Y/N watched him leave like a child being left alone in a department store. Or, more like a candy shop. There was too much temptation at the table.

The temptation scooted his chair in and motioned to their waiter. “Want another round?”

Y/N sighed and sat, giving herself over to the situation. “Yeah. Sure.”

Two more drinks appeared and a stillness settled around them. The sun had gone entirely and the hotel lit up with torches and artificial lights tucked away into the flora.

“Nice night.”

Y/N nodded. “Very. I like smelling the ocean like this. It’s… fresh.”

“Don’t get out to the beach much back home?”

She sighed. “Nah. Too busy. Also, the waters I’m around aren’t like this. This is clean and blue, not some gray-green sludge with no movement. This is perfect.”

His eyes fell across her face and she could feel her cheeks burn.

“It is pretty perfect,” he whispered, lips tipping the rim of his glass.

Oh, I am in big trouble.

She cleared her throat and looked away at an older couple across the restaurant. They were holding hands over the table and whispering to each other, truly in love.

“What about you? You get to the beach a lot?”

Chace shrugged. “I try. Filming in Canada takes me away from the sand, but I get back to it when I can.”

“Is it nice up there at least?”

“You’ve never been to Toronto?”

Y/N shook her head.

“Well, you should come up with Jensen next time he’s filming with us.”

I really should… I bet your costume is super tight in person…

The rum tickled her tongue.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“So indecisive…” He chewed the corner of his mouth and eyed her closely over the candles.

“No,” she answered, desperate not to think about his teeth grazing her skin. “Just…”

“Coy?”

“Perhaps.” She took another sip and looked up from beneath her lashes. “Is it working?”

Chace blushed and shifted in his seat. “Uh, yeah. A lot, actually.”

The alcohol was making her too confident, too easily flirtatious and she set her glass down. The moon was bright and she looked out at the ocean, marveling at the glossy sheen it cast over the waves.

“So beautiful,” Chace whispered.

She nodded and then looked back to find him staring not at the waves, not at the moon, but at her. Her stomach tightened and her pulse quickened.

“You’re looking the wrong way,” she teased.

He shook his head slowly. “I’m really not.”

Do not fall in love with him. Absolutely out of the question.

Without realizing it, Y/N was leaning in, caught for the thousandth time in his gaze, wanting to be closer.

The flames flickered in his eyes as Chace pushed in close.

Time slowed down, the Earth spun a little bit slower beneath them.

Y/N smiled and batted her lashes.

Chace licked his lips slowly.

She sighed.

“Do you hear music suddenly?”

He laughed softly and nodded towards the stage. A large man in a pink floral shirt was plucking away at a ukulele.

Y/N rolled her eyes at herself and laughed. “Oh, I thought maybe it was you.”

Chace pushed up out of his chair and leaned all the way over, stopping just before their lips met. His eyes fluttered closed, his breath passed over her lips like the warm evening breeze.

Y/N held her breath.

Do it. Kiss me. Please.

She closed her eyes.

Wait. No! No, no.

Panic flooded her system and she jerked away. “Oh! Um…” Still fleeing, she stood up, nearly knocking her chair over. “I’m uh-”

Frozen mid-attack, Chace looked up, brows knitted and confused. “You OK?”

No, I’m an idiot. Damnit.

“Um…” She looked around quickly, desperate for an escape or reason. There was nothing on the wind but coconut and petals, nothing in the sky but stars and streaks of light gray clouds. Nothing that would help her.

Chace sighed and stood up, backing off. “It’s OK.” He cleared his throat and smoothed his shirt down over his stomach, readjusting himself.

Y/N’s stomach ached in the worst way. Everything was colliding inside and she hated herself for pulling away.

Fix this. Now.

She sucked in a breath of courage and downed the rest of her drink in one swallow. “Come walk with me,” she said, grabbing his hand.

He went without hesitation, laughing as she nearly dragged him from the restaurant onto the sand.

The beach was empty and they walked hand in hand for a long while, comfortably silent. His hand was warm and big and she felt calmer the farther they walked.

With the hotel in the distance and low tide nipping at their toes, Y/N stopped suddenly and turned. She went up on her toes and reached for him, pulling him down into a soft kiss that made his breath push out in a gentle moan.

His eyes fluttered open when she let go.

“What was that?” His voice cracked and he shook himself as if waking from a dream.

Oh, no…

Doubt filled her head. “A kiss?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I know that, but-”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N stepped away, shoes sinking deep into the dryer sand. “I thought- I mean- I shouldn’t have assumed. It’s just that- Damn it, I’m sorry.” She spun towards the hotel, skirt whipping in the wind. “I’m sorry.”

Chace caught her arm, halting her escape and drawing her back to him. “Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Her smile returned. “It’s not?”

“Are you kidding?”

He turned to meet her face to face and wrapped his right arm around her waist, pulling her close. Their bodies touched and her heart skipped. He was warm and hard and felt like magic against her.

“I’ve been trying to get you alone since the moment we met,” he confessed. “I can’t stop thinking about you. All day, every day. I can’t even focus on the game. All I think about is laying you down and… showing you just how beautiful you are.”

Swoon…

“You can’t be serious,” she laughed, every inch of her heating up.

His hand splayed across the small of her back as he dipped his chin. “I am. You keep reeling me in and then pushing me away. I’m goin’ a bit crazy here, Y/N…”

Her heart was racing, breath scarce as she looked up into his handsome face. “I’m reeling? You’ve been hitting on me all week.”

He shrugged. “Still. You keep saying no.”

Y/N sighed. “I just really need to focus on my job and I feel like I’m getting everything wrong and pissing Jensen off and I just-”

Chace shook his head and grinned. “Not likely.”

“What?”

“You really think his arms are hurting? Or maybe he was just giving us some time to get to know one another…”

That sneaky jerk…

His fingers tensed on her back and she melted into him, leaning forward a little more.

“So, you wanna try this again?” he asked, left hand lifting to caress her cheek.

More than anything, you charming son of a…

Y/N bit her lip and leaned into his touch. “Yes.”

Please…

Chace smirked and tipped his head to the side, aiming for her sweet lips. “I knew I’d wear you down…”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @amanda-teaches @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @b3autyfuldisast3r @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @because-imma-lady-assface @bloodline1632 @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @djs8891 @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @jawritter @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @leigh70 @lovealways-j @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @mistressofallthingsgeeky @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05 @thoughts-and-funnies @vulgar-library

#chase crawford #chase crawford x reader #jensen ackles #fanfiction #one shot

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acapelladitty · 11 months

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Zero Year Riddler/Reader - Humiliation

Summary: Feeling confident, you decide to pay Edward a visit as he is 'working' and get exactly what you wanted. (transmasc reader)

Kicking the door to his office shut with the flat of your boot, your eyes refuse to leave the green glad figure who sits behind his usual work desk – his feet balancing on the edge of the desk as he reclines in comfort. His reaction is immediate as open surprise sits on his features for a moment before realisation sets in and that surprise dissolves into something much more heated and dangerous.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Crooning the question, Edward immediately stands from the desk and his long legs make quick work of the space between you. “I’m not sure you’re in the right place, handsome.”

“No.” You counter, playing with the end of his tie. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

“I don’t remember sending for a whore.” His tone curls around the final word with a knowing lilt, confident that he understands the game you’re playing and is happy to make the first move. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s been a hard day of work, and I could do with some play.”

Glancing down as you feel him take your hand within his own, he is quick to press your palm against the half-hard bulge of his cock and it remains hidden beneath his slacks. Hot arousal floods your groin as you press your thighs together, enjoying the rough feel of the fishnets on your skin.

A small yelp bursts free of your lips as he spins you in place suddenly, his body flush against your back as you feel his cock press into your lower back. His head is quick to dip against your neck as rough fingers run along the outline of the red shift dress which skims your hips before looping through the metal hoop which hangs off the thick leather collar which hugs your neck.

“You really do look like a whore, you know.” Edward muttered, the words hot against your inner ear as he tugs the collar playfully. “Like a handsome whore who knows what he is.”

“I am a whore. Your whore.” You gasp out.

“Prove it. Bend over the desk and show me just how much of a desperate slut you are.”

Moving on shaky legs, you follow his instructions without hesitation – your body feeling uncomfortably hot against the hard wood of the table as you bend over it fully, ass high in the air to entice him into action. A temptation which he is quick to indulge as you feel his presence behind you immediately.

His fingers trail across the hem of the blood-red dress before hiking it up with a rough tug to expose your ass to his gaze. A slight hitch in his breath makes a small smirk tug at your lips as you drink in his reaction to your naked lower half, your underwear mysteriously missing as the fishnet tights do nothing to hide the obvious arousal which greets him.

“A whore so brainless he appears to have forgotten how to dress himself.” Edward growled and you hold back a soft grunt as his fingertips pluck at the fishnets which cover your ass before a harsh tearing sound alerts you to the fact that he has simply ripped through the fabric for ease of access. “But what a tempting offer, pup. It would be,” he paused, “remiss of me, to not indulge the whore his needs. Particularly when he’s presenting himself like a bitch in heat.”

Nodding desperately, you spread your legs further.

Edward is not gentle as you hear the soft unzipping of his slacks and he brushes his cock against your slit for a moment before thrusting within you in one brutal sweep of his hips. It’s pleasure and pain rolled into one and it draws a shuddering cry from your lips as your fingers grip the desk until the whites of your knuckles show.

He sets a frantic pace, his hands digging in to your fabric-covered hips as his balls slapped obscenely against your hole. His cock was as familiar as ever and the stretch of it brushing against your walls is quick to build a growing band of tension across your groin – a feat which is only made worse as one of his hands drops from your hips to creep around and stroke along your engorged clit. The surge of pleasure is almost cruel in its intensity and your knees buckle slightly against the wood.

“Too much, pup? Well too bad. I might not be paying for this, but I know your kind.” Edward growled, his cock twitching within your hole. “You’re nothing more than a series of holes to be used. A pathetic whore, desperate for someone to use him. To make themselves feel good. To fill him with cum and leave, like the good piece of meat he is.”

The degrading words, mixed with his skilful manipulation of your clit, prove too much and your orgasm hits without mercy – your body writhing against the wood as your lips spill a series of pleas and encouragements without any real thought. Through it all, Edward keeps up his rapid pace as his cock hollows you out but the harsh clenching of your hole around him as you desperately pull him deeper with every thrust is enough to push him into his own climax.

“Ahh- take it all you whore. Every drop.”

Still riding the waves of your own orgasm, the sudden burn of heat within your hole as he buries himself as deep as possible draws a fresh groan from your lips which matches the one that slips free of Edward’s own as his fingers grip your hip deeply enough to ensure some soft bruising. It’s intense and you ground yourself in the feeling of being used, loving the shameful way which it continues to spark heat across your shuddering frame.

Eventually he pulls free, his cock leaving a barren coolness in its wake as you feel just how wet and messy your hole is, but it’s a sensation which lasts only a moment as his fingers press against your slit. The sensation catches you off-guard and you jerk in place until his free hand presses roughly against your back to keep you in place as his fingers press his escaping release back into your twitching hole.

“Every drop, pup.” He warns in a thoroughly satiated tone. “And if you spill any then we’ll just have to do it again until every inch of you is filled.”

#riddler #edward nygma #riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #edward nigma #reader fic #gotham rogues #riddler x you #edward nygma x you

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ninapi · 1 year

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Save me (Ushijima Version)

Premise: Ushijima struggles to understand the concept of love and what is expected of him in said equation, but he finds himself in the predicament of wanting nothing more than to be with the woman he loves even if it gets in the way of his established lifestyle.

Word Count: 2510

Note: Welcome to the second route of the 'Save me' series! This one will be a bit less intense and will focus mostly in Ushijima himself, however, it starts right after chapter 1 from Semi's route (Link here), so I would suggest you read that one first if you haven’t.

Chapter 1: Soft colors in the air.

Ushijima was a simple man.

He would follow the same routine every day and it mostly revolved around volleyball.

The first thing he did when he arrived at his school was going to the gym and leave his sports bag there before heading over to his class and read his notes in preparation for the first class of the day.

But this morning things didn’t go as planned.

He was on his way into the main building when he saw you crouching down in what looked like a lot of pain, hovering over a flower bed. Once again, his body was moving on its own, it was starting to worry him how he wasn’t able to control his body at will lately. Thankfully, it only happened when you were there and you were rarely involved in anything volleyball related, otherwise, his career would be over.

“Good morning, (Y/N). Are you ok?” you looked up at him with glossy eyes, one of your hands cradling the other, “Oh! Ushijima-san! Good morning! Yes, I’m fine, don’t worry. I just got a thorn stuck in the palm of my hand and just can’t take it out, working with cacti is a pain, wouldn’t recommend it.”

Your smile was so bright, he thinks of how it could possibly light up an entire room. “Can I do something to relieve your pain?” he was now crouching besides you, giving the evil aggressor a heavy scowl.

He’s cute.

“Uhm, can you keep my hand steady? I can try to pluck it out with some tweezers.” he nodded while you were diving into your backpack one handed, looking for the much needed tool.

He held your hand as carefully as he could, gently prying it open for you. Your faces were only inches away, you were fully concentrated in the task at hand, your tongue poking out the side of your mouth while you plucked out the small invader. Ushijima was just lost on your face, the way your eyebrow twitched every time you dug deeper in your palm, the slight pool of tears in one of your eyes, your rosy lips parting in small gasps at the constant prickle.

This was the first time he’s seen someone’s face this close and in so much detail. He was intrigued, not only by you, but by his reactions. He doesn’t care much for people, specially not those who aren’t linked to the sport in any way.

But you were different.

He could compare seeing you with how he felt after a morning run. It was his favorite moment of the day. He would run along the coast, watch the sunrise, pet a cat or two on his water breaks. The air tasted wonderfully, and he felt so full of energy afterwards, ready to tackle the long hours of study and practice ahead. He felt the same way every time he saw you smile, this sort of thing has never happened to him before, and he wonders what is it about you that make him feel so many things at once.

“YES! Got it!” your little outburst startled him, and he ended up bumping his forehead against yours. “Ouch. Sorry, Ushijima-san. Got too excited. Are you alright?” still being extremely close, you reached over to check his forehead, gently moving his hair away with your fingers, “My head is sturdy, nothing to worry about.” his answer made you chuckle, helping yourself up by holding onto his shoulder. “I wish my head was sturdy. Thank you for your help, Ushijima-san. You should probably hurry, I don’t want you to be late to class on my account.” he was about to leave now that you didn’t need any help, but his brain was having problems functioning on the way it normally does, he felt troubled, everyone called him by his last name, that was completely normal, but he kept on calling you by your first name, was that a bad thing? Was he being rude? Did you perhaps not want to call him by his first name? He wants to believe you’re already close enough to be in first name basis, could it be possible that you don’t know his first name? He doesn’t remember ever telling you what it was.

“(Y/N)” he gave you a pointy look, and that’s when you realized he hasn’t moved an inch yet, he was just there, staring at the flowerbed, “Yes, Ushijima-san?” you knew he had communication issues, this is in fact the first time you’ve talked this much, even if its been mostly all you, “Would it be ok for you to call me by my first name too? Its Wakatoshi.”

Was that what he was thinking about so thoroughly? His oddly cute side was making you smile so brightly, he was just glad he still had some of the medicine he got the other day because his breakfast was coming back up at an intense speed, “Can I really? I would like that very much! But how about I call you…..Toshi-san! Yes, I like that better.” you were swaying happily, and it all ran in slow-motion in his eyes, the way your eyes sparkled at the mention of his name, the way your hair moved in the wind, he could swear he could even hear music in the background.

His expression softened and it’s the closest you’ve been to see him smile.

“Toshi it is, then.”

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

That afternoon right before practice he saw you talking with Semi in a corridor. He’s seen the two of you together often and he wonders why it bothers him this much. He should be happy for you, having friends is a good thing, his mother used to say that.

But his body keeps on playing dirty tricks on him, he feels restless whenever he sees the two of you spending time alone and he just can’t stop himself, he was nearly charging on your direction when thankfully, Tendo spots him and gets in the way. “Woah woah, buddy. Chill. What is it?” he looks around until he spots you laughing while Semi was laying against a wall with a smug grin on his face, “Oh ok, I see what’s happening. Breathe, Wakatoshi-kun. Come on, let’s go to practice.” he literally had to drag the heavy man around the school, his feet refusing to listen to his friend, “What is happening to me, Tendo?”

He was honestly worried and disheartened. He’s never been a violent person, he doesn’t even have time to analyze human behavior, he should be practicing right now, not sulking about life.

“It’s called having a crush. Happens to everyone.” Tendo pulled his friend to a bench, sighing at the look of confusion in his teammate’s face, “A crush? I haven’t crushed anything, Tendo. What are you talking about?”

“Well you almost crushed Semi.” he snickered at his own remark, “But I mean you like her. Don’t you?” Ushijima pondered the question; did he like you? Well, of course he did. You are a wonderful person, always kind to everyone, “I do. But don’t we all?”

“We do, my dear Wakatoshi, we do. But I mean as a woman, not as a female schoolmate. You know like, like like?” his head was spinning at this point, this conversation was more complicated than the math problem he had to solve this afternoon. “You speak nonsense. How am I supposed to understand what you mean when all you do is repeat the same word multiple times.”

Tendo sometimes wonders why he puts up with this man. There has to be a limit of how clueless one can be. “I mean like romantically; you want her for yourself. That’s why it bothers you when Semi is around her.”

Romantically? He’s read some romance novels that were a requirement for school work, but he never really understood their plot.

“How can you be so sure is that?” the wild grin in Tendo’s face was giving him the chills, “All I need to do is see your face to know that’s what it is about. You look at her the same way I look at chocolate cake. And that, my friend, is called love.” this was the first time Tendo ever heard Ushijima sigh, this was really getting to him.

That’s when they noticed you were coming their way, Semi tagging along. “Toshi-san!!” the sound of your voice is all he needed to understand that Tendo was probably onto something. He’s never felt anything similar to the way he feels when he hears your voice, it tingles his internal organs. “Do you like carrot cake? I baked some in class just now, it’s still warm!” you wiggled yourself out of Semi’s grasp, running all the way over to the bench.

He looked up at you with an almost defeated looking smile, making your breath hitch.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” your hand went straight up to move his hair away from his face and pressed your forehead gently against his, closing your eyes to feel in his temperature. He was definitely warm, but nothing too out of the ordinary as temperature goes. “You don’t seem to have a fever.” he shook his head, looking into your eyes. “Then what is it? Is it your tummy? Maybe carrot cake isn’t such a good idea.” you started retrieving the cake when Ushijima’s larger hand clasp around it, “It is not. I would like some carrot cake.”

“You sure? I can bake more for you another day if you aren’t feeling well.” the look of concern in your face was making it increasingly hard for him not to lose composure.

“My dear, (Y/N). Let the man eat some cake. Though, why are you just offering cake to him? What about me? You hurt my poor lonely heart, ingrate woman.” he heaves a pained huff, making you chuckle. “Sorry, Tendo-san. I didn’t see you there.” You didn’t see him? He’s been there the whole time.

“I see. Nothing to worry about, just make sure you give me some cake too.”

Semi was watching the entire scene unfold from afar, giving him mixed feelings. He’s gotten closer to you as time went by and he is confident now that you two are good friends and good friends support each other. He would like to think of a future where he would be the one getting the girl and not the guy who already has it all, but truth is he cares for both of you just as much and it is true what Tendo said, he’s never seen his captain make a face like that, let alone let someone touch him so freely.

“(Y/N) you are a wonderful cook.” the cake was gone before any of you noticed, making Tendo gasp in despair and Semi laugh.

He ate it all.

“Oh my god, that was fast! Sorry, Tendo-san. I’ll make sure to save some for you next time."

“What about me, (Y/N).” his face was full of crumbles, softening your heart and quickly turning it into a puddle of goo. “You can have as much as you want.” brushing the crumbles off gently with your hand, you smiled adoringly down at him.

“You’re right, Tendo.” he just blurted out staring at his friend while still being tended by you, having his friend panic and cover his mouth instantly.

“Right about what?” Tendo got up and stretched to get your mind out of it, “Oh, we were talking about cake just before you came. About how much I love it.” that made you feel bad, you didn’t know he liked cake so much otherwise you would have set some aside for him earlier. “I’m so sorry, Tendo-san. I just thought of baking this cake for Toshi-san and I…it was not nice of me to not think of the others, I will bake a larger cake next time, I promise.” This time was Ushijima the one standing from the bench, “You made it for me?” the surprised expression on his face was unlike anything you’ve seen before, he was showing you so many different sides of him today, it made you feel things. “I did…I…I was thinking about this morning, and I thought maybe you’d like to have some carrot cake.” You were tripping over your words; your face was slightly red and your shaky smile was just out of this world precious. He didn’t know how the happening from this morning translated in your head to carrot cake, but he was thankful nonetheless, you were thinking about him when you baked it, and it was delicious.

“I didn’t know I needed carrot cake. Thank you for noticing, (Y/N), it was very good.” you nodded proudly, of course he would follow along, he’s always like this, even when he doesn’t fully understand what’s going on, he would never put you on the spot. His kindness was what you liked the best about him, even when people can’t see it straight away, you did. “Of course! Whenever you need something, I’m your girl! I mean…what? I..um…yeah…cake!”

Semi laughed so loud it made your shrink onto Ushijima’s shadow. “Shut up, Eita!” you pouted, grabbing your school bag and stomping away on the direction of your dorm. Just before you were too far away you turned around and saw Ushijima was looking at you without blinking, this made your smile come back and you waved at him before returning to your room.

“So I’m right, huh? Did you see that Semi-semi?? She literally had her face on his just like that! I wonder what they are not telling us. Do you know anything that I don’t? You’re awfully chummy with her.” to this Semi scoffed, of course he saw it all, the look on Ushijima’s eyes wasn’t one of surprise or discomfort, it was one of fondness, it was like he would let you do anything, without questioning. Very unlike him.

“Well of course I am, she’s my best friend. But sorry to disappoint you, I know as much as you do.”

“So that means you are not romantically involved with her?” his chest felt so much lighter, even without the medication, he could breathe more comfortably now.

“What? No, I’m not. Are you?”

What was it even being romantically involved with someone? He knew he had something different going on with you if he compared it with how the others treated him, but was that being romantically involved? Or what does it even entail? “I don’t think I have an answer to that question.” the two of them just nodded in understanding, they knew this wouldn’t be easy, but Tendo was satisfied with the progress, he got him to agree there’s something that needs to be thoroughly discussed and it would steal a few of his well-rested nights away.

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Tagged babes: @dazaisfavgf, @lauraagrace

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