#The day they publish it i will lose my shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daydreamerwonderkid · 9 months

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Me, after doing 15 minutes of excessive googling on every Batfam member's birthday only to then realize I've accidentally missed the majority of them this year, and then also finding out that people are still aggressively debating over whether Bruce's birthday is April 7 or February 19, Dick's birthday happens 3-6x throughout the year, and Stephanie might have just popped into existence for all that DC cares:

Batfam birthday dates btw for anyone who needs them are listed beneath the cut:

DISCLAIMER: DC is notorious for being super inconsistent with everything and I am a mere tadpole caught in the tidal wave of DC's ocean. This post will be regularly updated with edits and corrections so please do not use it as word of law, I am begging you.

Update (8/24/23): To keep things more simple and easier for everyone I am going to start categorizing the birth dates I've collected into 3 categories.

-Most popular: Self-explanatory. These are the birth dates that have been canonized and confirmed by DC and are also more wildly celebrated by the fandom. Typically, this should be the first result you see when you google the character's birthday. But not always because DC sucks ass.

-Other date(s): These are the additional birth dates I come across that have been canonized in some form with multiple sources, but are not as wildly celebrated or popularized by DC and/or the fandom. Why am I including them here? Mostly because I don't want people coming in saying I forgot a date. But also because if I have to see this mess, then y'all have too as well.

-Potential but unconfirmed date(s): This is where I will put all the other additional dates I find, but specifically those that are lacking in complete sources or seem to be highly debated and scrutinized.

Also fun emoji ranking guide for me and me alone:

👑👑: Queen Shit. Characters with a consistent and simple birth date(s). Can absolutely do no wrong.

👑😮‍💨: In the Running. Characters who don't have a set birth date, but the mess is minor and completely DC's fault. They shouldn't have to be punished for DC's crimes.

🤡🤡: Gtfo. Shit is so inconsistent and stupidly messy that it's making me lose my shit. I'm putting DC and the characters on trial for this bullshit.

👑Alfred Pennyworth👑

Most popular: August 18

Other date(s): June 27 or August 10

Potential but unconfirmed date(s): September 19 (fml)

(Yes, I'm including Terry, fuck you lol

Also SERIOUSLY WTF is up with so many of these August birthdays!!!! Fuck, was everyone just getting crazy BUSY in November!!!! What's going on in the DC universe that is making November of all months the HORNY MONTH????!!!!)

(Mini update ((8/18/23)): Well, I just found out that apparently June 27th 2023 is also a highly debated birth date for Terry. As is August 10 2023/2024 and August 18 2023/2024. I even saw a mention of September 19 2023, but I don't know how credible that source actually is. I'm just putting it here because I'm losing my mind and I don't want someone to pop in and say I forgot it omfg I'm dying

I'm just ... why? Why is it so hard to just commit to one month and one date. I'm not even concerned about the exact year. Just commit to ONE, man.

Excuse me while I march over to DC HQ and burn the whole place to the ground iswtfg)

Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on any of these. I have a massive headache now and am open to any suggestions or clarifications y'all have to offer.

Also, I'm going to fist fight Dick in a Denny's parking lot.

Update (8/17/23): So a mini post that I meant to use as a way to vent how insane Dick was making me somehow blew up way more than I ever expected it to, and now I feel obligated to clarify again that I am open to any corrections and additional info that anyone has to offer.

I'm saying this because I've noticed people reblogging this post for actual Batfam bday references and someone already pointed out I fucked up Tim's bday and now I feel bad for everyone who reblogged this post prior to that edit.

It's probably just the anxiety talking, but yeah I just wanted to put that out there.

Also justice for Stephanie Brown! She deserves to have her own special day and if I have to bully DC into giving her a canon birthday, then you bet your ass I fucking will.

(And to all of y'all who are encouraging Dick to keep running his side scam business, I just have this to say: There's an empty Denny's parking lot somewhere out there just waiting for you, too lol)

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strnilolo2 · 7 months

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caught

summary: while filming a video with the boys, they question your ability to sleep anywhere, and in any position.

word count: 914

warnings: one or two curse words, lots of dialogue, lowercase intentional.

an; this is my first time publishing a piece of mine, please let me know if there’s anything i can do to better my writing :)

|| i think im going to continue writing even if this doesn’t get any attention, as i enjoy writing on here. ||

“top three sleeping positions?” nick laughs as he reads the question out loud.

“why don’t we let Y/N talk to us about that”, you roll your eyes as the attention is brought onto you.

“nick i don’t even sleep weird, what are you on about” “don’t put false accusations onto the internet like that” you laugh as you take a sip of your drink.

“oh no you definitely sleep in some insane positions” chris adds from the passenger seat.

“can we just talk about the amount of times i’ve seen y/n asleep, first of all?? i could leave the room for two seconds and come back to you like this” the car irrupts into laughter as matt mocks you with his hand spread across the car.

“i do not! how dare you say that!”

“i will pull out pictures right now.”

a few weeks earlier..

the group had just gotten home from filming a video, chris and nick automatically going to their respective rooms for the night. you plop down onto the L shaped sofa, and begin to watch tiktok with matt.

“are you sure you’re not going to fall asleep if I go get a blanket?” matt asks, only to earn a hum of a response.

“i’m going to rock your shit if you fall asleep” no response. matt leaves to retrieve a blanket from his bedroom, only to come back to the inevitable. your phone sits beside your head, the tiktok you were once watching replaying over and over. matt laughs at your sprawled out state, one leg rests on the top of the couch, the other almost completely bent beside you. quickly snapping a photo, matt places the blanket over you and turns off your phone so that he too, can finally rest.

present day

“oh.. my god. there’s actually no way you guys have been taking pictures of me asleep” you loudly question. “that’s some stalker type shit” you bend your legs beneath your body, sitting criss cross.

“I have some too” Chris replies before searching his phone to find it.

last week..

getting home late from a party, you and nick decide to watch a movie together in his room before going to sleep.

“should we tell matt and chris we’re home?” you question nick as he begins to search for the perfect movie to end the night.

“no, im sure they can see it on life360. plus, i don’t know about you, but im not getting up” nick grabs the blanket from the bottom of the bed and gets comfortable.

“im going to lay this way, i dont have my glasses and i can’t see the TV from there” you begin to move the pillows on ‘your’ side of the bed, to the bottom where you’ll be laying.

“don’t get your feet near my pillows, smelly” nick shoves your feet away from his pillows, to which you oblige.

moments later, chris, deciding to make sure the two of you didn’t die on your way home, enters the room, only to discover both of you asleep. laughing at the positions you both are in, he takes a picture with the flash, waking up nick in the process.

“what the hell are you doing??” nick whisper shouts, covering his eyes as chris loses it, almost falling on the floor laughing.

“why is she asleep like that, oh my god, her feet are almost in your face” chris, unable to contain his laughter, or volume, causes you to wake up.

“stop” you get up from your spot in nicks bed, and wrap the blanket around you to go sleep in matt’s room. “you guys are way too loud” you grumble, before opening matt’s door to finally, maybe, gain some peace.

chris and nick finally make eye contact after watching you slowly walk away, and instantly laugh out loud, disturbing the peace once again.

“woah this is NOT about me why am i in that picture” nick sticks his hands out, pushing chris and matt back as they fall to the side laughing in sync.

“HIS EYES ARE GLOWING” matt manages to get out between fits of laughter. you cover your face in embarrassment, being caught lacking in your blissful moments of sleep.

“you guys are terrible, why would you take such horrendous photos of me, i am INNOCENT” the boston accent coming to surface in your words.

“no babe, with the way you sleep, you would think you belong in an institution”

“nick, that was an insane statement. anyways my favorite sleeping position is on my stomach with one arm hugging a pillow next to me, and the other underneath my head, and then i also have one leg all the way across the bed, and the other bent up”

the group bursts into laughter again, mocking you.

“omg and flat on my back, but I have to have pillows on all sides and my legs have to be spread out” you join the boys in laughter, acting out the position.

“you’re crazy” matt pushes your shoulder back to keep you from hitting him in your fit of laughter.

“oh no don’t think you’re safe matt. I caught you last week with your face stuffed into the pillow, don’t go calling me crazy.”

the video ends, that question being the last. you and the boys drive home, only for you to be caught again, asleep in the backseat with your head against the window.

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najlepsiznajlepsich · 29 days

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tolerate it.

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

warnings: cursing, age gap (9 years), alcohol consumption, angst, loosely inspired by tolerate it by taylor swift

author's note: this my first ever published fic!! woohoo!! star = time skip, sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. (had this sitting in my drafts for a long long time)

☆

The bright yellow light shone right in your face. Regret was the only thing that you were feeling right now. Your brother just had to have a big party for his birthday, only inviting his friends and you, for some reason. 80% of these people were strangers to you. It’s like you were totally out of place, cursing out your brother in your head.

Until you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around. “It is you!” the man in front of you said. Carlos. The guy you had a crush on years ago. You didn’t even recognize him at first. But you could recognize that Spanish accent in a crowd full of people. His voice was like a lollypop, reeling you in to hear all his sweet whispers.

He wasn’t the 17-year-old boy playing fifa with your brother. His tight shirt highlighted his muscles, his face was grazed by a light stubble, and his deep brown eyes had an emotion in them you haven’t seen before. Eyes, in which you wanted to get lost, scanned your silhouette. He threw his arm around your shoulders. His touch was a burning sensation dancing on your skin.

You also weren’t the 8-year-old girl with pigtails who sat around just to spend time with them. “Well, you’ve changed since I last saw you.” "Yeah, Carlos, that was ten years ago.” He laughed, and you swore the same butterflies flew around your stomach, just as when you were a kid. Fuck. He still had the same hold on you.

Still the same fool after all.

☆

You opened the front door to your parents’ house. His laugh echoed in the hallway as you took off your shoes. Carlos is here. “Y/N!! HELP ME!! He is cheating!” your brother shouted as you walked into the living room.

“I'm not cheating!!” Carlos mumbled, and your brother, who can’t handle losing, restarted the game. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?” Carlos exclaimed. "MAYBE, ‘CAUSE YOU’RE CHEATING!” your brother yelled back, an evident smile on his lips. A throaty groan escaped the lips of both guys.

Their friendship was something you saw bloom into a close bond. Their arguments sounded just like the ones they had 10 years ago. And if it was a different day, maybe you would stay there and just watch them. However, your tired legs carried you to the kitchen.

From the fridge, you pulled out a bowl of fruits you cut up this morning. The laughter of those two man-children was still heard. One of them bringing nostalgia and some old, forgotten feelings back.You really haven't changed.

“Hey? You okay?” a small voice next to you asked. You didn’t even notice when he entered the kitchen. Shit, how and why did you zone out? Could’ve avoided him. Well, not him, but this conversation.

"Yeah, Carlos,” you mumbled out. He opened a drawer, looking for something. He grabbed a pack of popcorn, threw it into the microwave, and leant onto the cold kitchen counter behind him.

A buttery smell hits your nose pretty quickly. Not sure if it was because of that, but the awkward atmosphere shifted into a comfortable one.

It reminded you of the moments from your childhood and his teenage years. The raindrops bounced against the glass of the window. It calmed you down until you heard the microwave beeping and got a mini-heart attack.

“Can I have some?” you asked shyly. He didn’t answer; he just pulled out a second, smaller bowl. “Wanna go out golfing tomorrow?” he asked you as he handed you the popcorn, his voice barely above a whisper. You looked up at him from your bowl of fruits. “Just me, you, and your brother." “All right,” you smiled.

“Want some?” You pushed your bowl with the cut-up fruit in front of him. He grabbed a piece of an apple. “Delicious,” he moaned as he placed it on his tongue. You giggled at his antics. He really hasn’t changed. “From your garden, right? I remember this taste.” "How?" "Too good to forget."

He smiled and picked up the big bowl of popcorn. “Are you sure you wanna go golfing? It’s weird you’re not complaining about it-“ “Go away before I change my mind.”

☆

You leaned into him as you laughed at his joke. His smell was intoxicating, you wish you could smell it all throughout your life. He placed his head on yours, and you swore you were in a dream.

“Carlos,” you spoke quietly, “you remember when we went golfing?” He smiled at the nice memory. If only you knew he remembered everything. Your hairstyle that you tried on for the first time, your outfit, the way your eyes sparkled when he said your swing was nice, the pinkish-red sunset you had to take pictures of.

He wished you’d take pictures of him, you didn’t. But, shh, you were taking pictures of him. Just in secret and for yourself.

“Yeah, of course I do. Our first date.” “Well-“ “Yeah, I lied to you, your brother was never invited.” You smiled. That was not new to you. Your brother was such a gossip. He could never keep a secret. This just confirmed it. “So you planned that! Carlos!” He just giggled, light blush covering his cheeks.

The way you said his name made him feel like he was the only person on earth. He kind of was in your eyes. “Now look at us, babe,” he said, and you sat up to take a sip of your coffee. This was your new favorite activity. Lying down on the outside couch, drinking coffee, and talking to your boyfriend, Carlos.

“Half a year went by fast, didn’t it?” you asked as you handed Carlos his mug. “Because we’re together,” he said, smiling at you. The same butterflies you had ten years ago and also six months ago appeared in your stomach.

“I love the coffee you make, it’s laced with something, isn’t it?” You smiled at his small remark. “Only with love.” “You’re so cheesy. I love you so much."

☆

“We can split it.” Carlos grinned as he walked into the closet. There you were, sitting on the floor with suitcases all around you. “I don’t want to mess up your clothes,” you whined out, and Carlos sat down next to you. “You won’t mess up anything, just let me help you unpack,” he said with a smile.

You started pulling out clothes, and you both put them in the drawers or hung them up. Carlos had a bit of a judging era and gave opinions on nearly everything. His meanness went away when you picked up a white tennis skirt, the one you wore to your golf "date."

“Why haven’t you worn it since?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. “I don’t know,” you answered and folded it up. His gasp made you look at him. “This is the dress you wore that time we went to try out the new ice cream shop!” He smiled at you and put the dress on a hanger.

“You remember that kind of stuff?” you asked him genuinely. Who would’ve thought he was this attentive? “Of course I do,” he placed a kiss on the top of your head. After spending at least three hours lost in the sea of clothes, you walked out of the closet.

Ecstatic—that’s what you both were. Finally moved in together. You already put some of your decorations in his living room. But the hallway was too empty for your liking.

“Carlos, can I hang some artwork here?” you called out to him in the kitchen. His head peeked around the corner. “Sure, let me help you.” He disappeared and then quickly reappeared with the tools needed for it. He hung up all of them.

“Thanks for letting me hang these up here.” You thanked him, your eyes looking to the ground. With his finger, he made you look up at him. “Please, it’s the bare minimum,” he whispered. That was definitely not that. He pulled you into a quick hug, then turned around to look at the art.

“They are really pretty. Did you paint these?” he asked he asked shyly. “Yeah, some of them last year and some a long time ago,” you laughed. “I like that one the most,” he giggles, and points to the one that was a portrait of him.

“Okay, that was painted last week,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re so in love with me, it’s funny." “Don’t act like you don’t love me too, Sainz.”

☆

“YOU’VE DONE IT!” you yelled as you jumped into his arms. Your boyfriend just won a grand prix. A GRAND PRIX. At that moment, you were proud of him like you weren’t of anyone before. This was the first grand prix you attended, and he already made it so memorable.

“It was because of you! You’re my good luck charm!” he laughed. He smelled like champagne, sweat, and happiness, if that even made sense. He held you close, and in that moment, you felt you two were the only people on earth.

“My man just won a grand prix,” you whispered into his ear, calming him down a bit. You wish you could be stuck in this moment forever. And while celebrations were fun, coming home was something you both were looking forward to.

Carlos opened the front door to your house, your now colorful hallway greeting you both. He was happy you came with him, but if you didn’t, he knew you would be eagerly waiting for him at the end of the hallway. You left your suitcases there and just went to the kitchen to cook up something quick.

Like the gentleman that he is, he helped you cut up everything. Your laughs echoed through the whole house. You couldn’t stop laughing even when you were eating, his effect on you was noticeable. Carlos washed and dried the dishes with you. Ugh, such a gentleman.

You tiptoed to your shared bedroom, heading straight towards your bathroom. “Do you want a facemask too?” you asked as you felt his body behind you. He became shy all of a sudden. “I mean, if you want to and have one for me,” he stuttered over his words, and you laughed. You couldn’t comprehend how he was so shy at times.

The cold feeling from the mask hit your face. He put on his mask too, and smiled at you. “You’re so cute.” He loved watching you do your skincare routine, he was just so mesmerized by you. He sat on the edge of the bath, his eyes never leaving your face.

He was studying everything and making a mental note to himself about which stuff is for your eyes, lashes, lips... He knew you like his favorite song. His mask was pulled off way later than yours, and he headed straight towards your comfortable bed.

You ran after him almost instantly and plopped right next to him. Your breathing synced up, and you could feel a smile forming on your lips. You tilted your head to look at Carlos, only to find him already looking at you. Only smiles were exchanged; no words were needed.

You loved this. Comfortable silence with him. You never felt so relaxed when you didn’t know what to say. He threw a blanket over you two, and you wriggled out of it.

"Carlos, we have to change into pajamas." “No, we don’t have to, baby. Come cuddle.” He stretched his arms out towards you. Pulled under the covers again. “You’re lucky I love you,” you muttered out under your breath, and he giggled.

You both got comfortable pretty quickly. Now, no one could pull you out of here. “Good night, princess.” His lips tickled your forehead as they placed a quick kiss.

☆

You heard the door opening. He was finally home. You ran down the hall and threw yourself around him. A little peck from you landed on his cheek, and he returned it. There was sadness on his face. Something you haven’t seen in a long time.

“What’s wrong?” you asked as you led him to the table where he had dinner waiting for him. His favorite food. “You ate already?” he asked when he noticed the absence of a second plate. Changing the conversation. Wow. So original.

“Carlos. Answer my question.” “I finished out of points.” He grunted as he sat down. You let out a heavy exhale and sat across from him. It could’ve been worse. “Don’t beat yourself up because of that. You’re a great driver; it just wasn’t your weekend.”

"Well, it hasn’t been my weekend for a long fuckin’ time.” He mumbled under his breath. Sometimes comforting him was like consoling a child. You didn’t know what to say and just watched him eat from his plate.

You hated when he was like this, because there was nothing you could do about it. Either he’d get over it or just be quiet for the whole day. You stood up from the table and walked slowly towards the kitchen.

You knew this wasn’t your fault, but it felt like that. You sat on the counter, looking out of the window. His footsteps echoed through the room. He carefully placed the plate in the sink, and his hands gripped your hips.

“Y/N,” he started his sentence, “I’m sorry.” You lifted your gaze to look at him. Your eyes were glossy, and that’s when he knew he fucked up. “It’s really not your fault, I shouldn’t be acting like this.” “It’s fine.” “No. It’s not.”

You knew it wasn’t fine. It tore your heart apart to see him in a shitty mood. He brought you into a hug. His cologne enveloped you, and you buried your head into his chest. His fingers played with your hair as he stroked your head.

A tear fell onto his hand when he pinched your cheek. You wanted to speak up, but you couldn’t find your voice. Carlos was one of the people you wanted only the best for.

“Please,“ you finally spoke up, “just talk to me when you’re feeling bad. I swear it’s better for us both.” He exhaled and looked down at you. “You should’ve told me sooner,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that,” you thought as you wriggled out of his hug.

☆

“Come on! We’re gonna be late!” he yelled out as you walked out of the bedroom. His eyes scanned your body. “Oh. We can stay home if you want,” he changed his mind pretty quickly. You had to pull out the new dark red dress for this occasion.

Today was your 3rd anniversary, and Carlos, the great boyfriend that he is, booked a table in the most expensive restaurant. You ushered him into the car. You weren’t running late, but you were on the edge of that.

Quiet, calming music from the radio filled your ears. The ride wasn’t supposed to be long. It felt like that, though. You were looking out of the window, your eyes scanning the new buildings you hadn’t seen yet. Carlos’ hand landed on your thigh. That gave you a weird feeling of comfort.

But it didn’t last long as he parked his car. He got out of the car and then ran around it to open your door. You blushed at the act and placed your hand in his. “Let’s go, ma’am,” he said, and you laughed. You got through the reception, and the waiter took you to your table.

Carlos really took his time with this. The table overlooked the city of Madrid, with all of the city lights shining brightly. It looked beautiful. He pulled out your chair for you, and you giggled. “So what can I get for you?” the waiter asked as you both sat down.

“Just a non-alcoholic beer for me and a bottle of wine for my lady. What kind do you want?” he asked. He knew which one you always ordered, but he didn’t want to risk getting something you wouldn’t drink.

“Red wine. Please.” You smiled and opened the menu. “Is that all for the drinks?” he asked, and you both nodded quietly. “I’ll let you pick out the food,” he turned around on his heel, strutting towards the bar.

Carlos smiled at you. His smile was something that warmed your heart every time. He grabbed your hand and drew small shapes with his thumb. He always knew how to comfort and calm you. You broke eye contact with him and admired the city, while he admired you.

The waiter came with the drinks and took your order. You ordered something simple, like always. You started eating together, and the conversation topics floated effortlessly. He was in the middle of telling a story about the crazy stuff he did with his cousins when his phone rang.

‘boss’ was the name that popped up on the screen, and you chuckled. “Hold on, I have to take this,” he said, walking away from the table. You continued eating.

Something was off when 20 minutes flew by and he wasn’t back. Finished the food. Still nothing. Drank enough wine. Nothing. Nearly an hour has passed, and still nothing?

You stood up and went towards the bar. “Hey, do you by any chance know where my boyfriend is?” you asked, completely desperate for an explanation. “He paid your bill and left,” the waiter behind the bar said with a calm expression.

You deeply exhaled and walked back to the table to grab your purse. You stormed out of there. What the fuck? Why didn’t he tell you anything? You were sitting there like a dumbass for a long time, waiting for him.

You called yourself an uber, and while the drive was awkward, it was definitely better than sitting in a car with Carlos. “Got stood up?” the man asked, his gaze focused on you in the mirror. “No, it’s complicated.”

“Relationships are complicated,” he laughed. At least that made you feel a bit better. Again, it wasn’t a long drive, so you were home relatively quickly. You walked into the hallway, which felt a bit more colorless than before. Your shoes came off quickly, and you threw yourself on the couch.

Defeated—that’s how you felt. A tear slid down your cheek.

You woke up in your bed next to Carlos. He probably carried you upstairs. He looked peaceful. So pretty. You hated that you loved him so much. How you could forgive him anything.

Your brain was fighting itself, you didn’t know what to do. Carlos was everything to you. First crush, love, relationship. But this really hurt. It was like he didn’t even care about anything. Your bed feels as hard as a rock now.

You couldn’t fall back asleep. Turning, flipping your pillow and blanket. You tried everything. Still up. Your brain was filled with Carlos. Did he not realize how much this would’ve hurt you? Work is important; you get that. But you couldn’t even get a heads-up that he was leaving?

You were mad and sad, and the tears you pushed back that evening came out. And they weren’t stopping anytime soon. Everything dawned on you all of a sudden. You grabbed onto your blanket and wiped your tears into it.

And you were 12 again, crying over a boy who didn’t like you back. Your heart shattered into a million tiny pieces, and you wished the man who was lying behind you would pick them up and glue them together. You fought the cry, which nearly came out of your throat, and reached for your phone to look at the time.

The phone brightened up the whole room, and you groaned. 4:55. Too soon. Apparently you weren’t the only one who was surprised by the brightness because the man next to you turned to face you. He was still sleeping. Thank god.

You didn’t want to deal with him this soon. You put the phone back on the nightstand and snuggled up under the covers. You felt his arms wrap around your waist. Somehow, his touch lost that warmth, and you felt goosebumps on your whole body.

You didn’t know what to do. Another round of tears rolled down your cheeks, and you never felt weaker. He had an effect on you. It used to be a positive one, but now you weren’t sure if you could continue with this.

☆

Where was he? The question brewing in your mind. Yeah, he was supposed to be working. But it’s 10 p.m. Your stress levels were increasing by every second. You were starting to worry about him. The dinner on the counter had already been reheated 15 times by now.

You sat down on the cold floor, staring at the ceiling. Your fingers fidgeted with the string of your sweatpants. Anything could’ve happened to Carlos, and you didn’t know. Your worries were cut short as a knock landed on the front door.

You shot up from the spot you sat on and ran towards the door. Your keys jingled as you tried to unlock the door as fast as possible. The handle probably left a dent in the wall from how fast you opened it.

And there he was. Carlos, with Charles by his side. You threw yourself into his arms, and he hugged you back. "Okay, Carlos, you’re home now. See you tomorrow!” Charles said carefully and slowly. He turned on his heel and walked rapidly back to his car.

As the front door closed, Carlos still didn’t let go of you. One close look at him and you could tell he’s drunk. You brought him to the kitchen and sat him down on a bar stool. “Come on. Eat. Or you’ll have a massive hangover.”

He ate slowly, talking about his evening. You stood on the other end of the counter, looking at him like you were a disappointed mother. Arms crossed on your chest gave you a feeling of security and comfort. Something you needed right now. As he was finishing his food, you decided to speak up about something you both dreaded to mention.

“Why did you go to the bar? You told me you were gonna come home immediately after work.” He looked up at you, like he was a deer in the headlights. “I just wanted to go out with the guys after a tough day,” he said, like he couldn’t figure out why you were mad. You just exhaled, not saying anything. But your stare spoke a million words.

“Don’t tell me you’re mad because of that.” He spoke as he handed you an empty plate. You bit into your bottom lip and turned away from him—towards the sink. You turned on the water, so it flowed slowly as you washed his and your plate, which had been in the sink for the past three hours. Carlos scoffed.

“You got so boring. What happened to you?” You ignored his drunken indiscretions and continued scrubbing the plates. He sat in silence, at least until the water flow stopped. You grabbed the closest dishcloth, not wanting to turn to see him. There were tears in your eyes, threatening to spill out of your eyes at any second now.

“You know, Y/N,” he started, “you changed. You aren’t yourself. You used to be so fun.” You swore you felt like someone had stabbed you right there, and you were starting to bleed out. Maybe past or sober Carlos would help you, but this one just wanted to put another knife through you.

“It’s like you don’t even care about my feelings, I never have fun anymore.” And there it was. The tears spilled from your eyes like a waterfall, and if your heart didn’t break before, now it definitely has.

“I can’t even have fun anymore.” He mumbled and walked out of the kitchen. A sob escaped your lips, and the salty drops covered the newly polished plates. You kept polishing them over and over again, breaking down even more in the process. That job was like a never-ending one.

His hurtful words were on repeat in your head, and you swore your knees started giving out. More sobs filled the room, but you stopped crying once you heard faint footsteps.

“Are you coming to bed or are you gonna keep polishing those dumb plates?” His tone was harsh, something you had never heard before. “I don’t want to sleep next to you tonight.” You whispered into the air.

“Night.” He grunted and turned off the lights in the hallway. You finally put the plates in their place.

“Second time you’re falling asleep on the couch.” You thought to yourself as you sat down. You felt like crying again, but there was nothing that could come out.

You reached for the blanket on the other end of the couch and found a comfortable position. What else could you think of other than your boyfriend?

You knew he was drunk. He probably didn’t mean it. You’ve done some shitty things while you were drunk too. But what if it wasn’t just the alcohol in his blood? Were you boring? Did you change? Were you good enough for Carlos?

A singular tear fell on the pillow. You wish you could just fall asleep and not think about Carlos for once. It helped you fall asleep most of the time, but it was also your greatest enemy in times like these. You hugged yourself, but nothing could generate the warmth Carlos hugged you with. A sob left your mouth.

“Can’t fall asleep. Please, Y/N,” Carlos’ voice scared you. “Please,” he begged again, and you stood up. He let you lead the way, slowly walking behind you. You threw yourself into your shared bed.

He just sat down on the edge. You looked at him for a second before turning on your other side and falling asleep. Carlos just sat there, looking out of the window. He finally laid down next to you, falling asleep nearly immediately with the familiar body right next to him.

☆

Family dinners. Something you both hated and looked forward to. Your mom handed you plates, then just ushered you out of the kitchen to the backyard. Your cousins and you neatly set the table, talking about stuff that has happened since you last saw each other.

You felt like a kid again. Everyone finally sat down and started eating. You felt terrible, and your face probably showed it because your aunt asked the thing you did not want to hear.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” she asked genuinely, and you just shrugged. You were defeated. You always attended his family events, and he couldn’t even come on time to yours? You swallowed a lump in your throat.

“Probably at work,” you said, not even looking up from your plate. “Huh. Asshole.” Hearing your brother mutter out that about his friend shocked you. Your mom nodded, and your dad just sighed.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. You preferred this over them calling you out. But it’s a family dinner, after all. “I know you love him, Y/N, but that age gap isn’t great,” your cousin proclaimed.

“He isn’t treating you right; younger you would never take that disrespect.” Another cousin agreed with her. You finally looked up to see the whole table staring at you. You didn’t know what to say. Maybe because they were right.

“You could’ve spent your twenties partying, and you’re with that guy.” Your dad spoke up. And you knew it was bad when he commented on it.

You exhaled deeply, opened your mouth to talk, and your brother already had his head in his hands. It’s like he was getting ready for whatever you were going to say.

“You love to just hate on everyone and everything, right?” Every pair of eyes looked away from you. Your phone vibrated in your lap, and you grabbed it. “I’m in front of the house.” You stood up from the table and became the center of attention once again.

“You don’t know him that well! You just love to judge everyone!” you shouted as you slid-opened the glass door. “I know him too well!” your brother yelled out. You slammed the door and ran up to your room.

“Give me 5 mins” you typed out with tears in your eyes. For those 5 minutes, you just sat on your old bed, trying to calm yourself down. Your feet swiftly carried you downstairs.

As you were about to make a turn for the door, you saw Carlos sitting in the backyard, laughing with everybody. You walked outside, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I let your boyfriend in, if you don’t mind,” your brother joked, making everyone laugh. Are you going absolutely fucking crazy? Just a few minutes ago, they hated him, and now they are making it seem like you had a problem with him.

You swore you were going to go insane, but you just sat down, smiling at your family. It’s fine. Everything will be fine. But as the night went on, it didn’t feel like that.

He was ignoring every ounce of affection you gave him. Acting like you didn’t exist. And now you regret defending him so much.

☆

You were in the middle of the unspoken routine you and Carlos adapted during the last few days after a big fight. You cleaned up after dinner while he read emails and work-related stuff.

He fell asleep because his soft snores filled the entirety of the living room. You grinned, and your heart broke at a thought that popped up in your head. You sat on the bar stool, and it’s like he felt like you were watching him because he woke up and opened up his book, continuing with his work.

Observing him was more fun when you two weren’t mad at each other. That isn’t the case today. He 'studied‘ the whole book, and you just sat there until he closed and placed it on the coffee table. You were internally fighting yourself.

Was this a good idea? Is it going to be absolutely worthless? You couldn’t even predict how you were going to act; how could you know how he was going to react? A little voice spoke quietly in your head. It’s going to be better. Let it go. You were walking towards the hallway when his deep voice surprised you.

“Are you not even going to say anything?” All the pent-up anger made its way to the surface. “You should say something!” you spat out, putting the emphasis on you. He looked down.

“Are you really making yourself the victim?” you continued. “What are you talking about?” he asked, not realizing you were one dumb question away from breaking down.

“YOU ARE THE ONE WHO IS RUINING THIS,” you strutted towards the couch, “and you’re not even realizing it.” He stayed quiet, waiting for whatever you had to say next.

“You used to actually care about me.” You shed a tear, and he stood up to hug you. But you just pushed him away. “Don’t pull that shit, Carlos.” He exhaled and sat down.

“I gave you everything!” you shouted. “All my attention, all my time, all my energy—I gave it all! And you did nothing with it!” You took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. Something in them screamed: When will she finally calm down? And that angered you even more.

“I don’t know shit about your life anymore! You don’t tell me anything! I have no idea how Ferrari is doing or what happened in the paddock. If you can’t even share the most basic information, how the fuck can we function as a couple?” You asked a rhetorical question. You didn’t want him to answer.

“It’s like my love and me are just extra weight on your shoulders. Is my affection annoying? Huh?” He looked up at you. You loved his deep brown eyes, but now you they were just making you angrier.

“I never knew you felt like that." “Yeah, of course you never know. It’s like you’re blind. Or maybe you just don’t fucking care! So stop acting like you do.” His clueless eyes scanned your hurt face. Maybe he actually didn’t know. But it’s not like that was an excuse.

He deeply hurt you, and there was no apologizing he could do; that was enough. “Please let me make it up to you,” he pleaded, his voice cracking nearly every word. “I swear, I didn’t mean it.” You burst into tears.

“No. Just let me end this.” Words rushed out of your mouth before you broke into another sob. A tear rolled down his cheek. This just broke your heart more. “You wouldn’t...” he said quietly.

“I would,” you looked him in the eyes, “and that’s what I’m doing right now.” “We’re done?” he asked like a little boy. “Yeah, Carlos. I’ll pick up my stuff later." You said as you walked through the hallway. The only thing you picked up were your keys.

You smashed-closed the front door and sat in your car. You couldn’t bring yourself to drive away. Leaving all the memories behind you. Most importantly, the 7-year-old you who would swear he was your soulmate. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.

☆

#f1 angst #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz fanfic

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peachhcs · 2 months

Text

good thing it was a rainy day

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

summary: part to 2 to rainy day at the lake house where some pent up sexual tension escalates between samy and will after being forced to stay away from one another due to everyone's obnoxious teasing

2k words

warnings: 18+, SMUT, this is literally like all smut, sub!will, sub!reader, switch, oral (m receiving), p in v (protected!!), riding, making out, hair pulling, slight praising, hickeys, consensual!, getting caught at the end

soooo here’s part 2!!! this is very explicit so read at your own risk! (warning u now before u hit read more lmao) publishing things like this genuinely scares me bc i know people can write so much better smut and i've never published smut before 🫣 but hope y’all like it?? idk i’m not the best at writing sex but like yeah! (p.s. pic 1 and pic 3 are from tumblr) (p.s.s. working on my requests rn too!!)

au masterlist | part 1

will's hands glided across samy's back as they deepened their kiss. the boy desperately tried ignoring what was going on down in his pants because if he focused too hard on it, he'd for sure cum before anything really happened. the brunette wasn't making it easy either. she bit and tugged on will's bottom lip like her life depended on it and the little tugs at the root of his curls had him losing it fast. samy's little comment from a few minutes ago had will trying to keep his sounds in—one, because he didn't want to get caught and two, he was trying to prove he wasn't the loud one.

although every time samy grinded her core against his own or kissed particularly hard, will struggled strangling his little whimpers and groans. she definitely wasn't making his easy for him.

the girl's hand started wandering lower again. she moved slowly and calculated like she was intentionally teasing the boy beneath her. will was desperate for her touch and her slow pace was killing him.

"s-samy, please," will's blue eyes met her own where a smirk replaced the gentle smile.

"desperate, huh?" she mused, finally reaching will's waistband again.

"mhm, god—" he couldn't stop the whimper this time. she was so close, yet so far still.

samy grinned. she reveled in those sounds her boyfriend made. he was so tough on the outside, so knowing this was how he got for her was a treat. she finally decided to have some mercy and allowed her hand to make contact with will's bulge. he immediately jerked his hips into her touch, biting his lip so hard he started tasting blood.

"this okay?" samy wondered, always double checking.

"yes, yeah. it's perfect," will breathily got out. she smiled, pushing his curls away from his somewhat sweaty forehead.

for it being so rainy and cool outside, the temperature inside of samy's room was hot.

she palmed will through his shorts for a few more moments before slowly pushing them down. his cock came free in one go, making will hiss at the sudden air against it. samy's eyes widened even though she's seen him multiple times before. each time was always as good as the first—always so red and throbbing for a release.

"so, so pretty, will," samy praised as she carefully took him in her hand. she used his pre as lube, slowly running her hand up and down his length in soft strokes.

"mm, yeah. feels so good," will muttered, head falling back onto the pillow in relief.

the brunette leaned down to leave gentle kisses to will's tip. the small feeling of her mouth on him had will's hips stuttering, trying to keep them under control.

"shit, hughes."

samy pumped him for a bit longer before deciding she was ready to attach her lips to him. his pre was enough lube and by the way he twitched in her hand, she knew he was already close. her pretty lips took him in one go resulting in the most guttural moan from her boyfriend. will's hands gripped onto the sheets, struggling to keep his hips still.

"fuck," he cursed a little too loudly. her lips were like heaven and the feeling was something will tried engraving into his mind forever.

"so good for me, will," samy hummed, meeting his gaze. the boy nearly lost it seeing her like that with his dick in her mouth. he took a mental snapshot, wanting that memory until he died—messy hair, glossed over eyes, hickeys on every inch of her skin—he was so, so fucked.

she picked up her pace, bobbing her head a little faster than before. her hands splayed across will's hips as purchase and leverage to help with the speed.

"i'm close already," will moaned, feeling that coil in his stomach about to snap.

"cum for me, will. it's okay," samy urged and her words were enough to send him over the edge and see stars.

his hips bucked up on their own as he released right into samy's mouth. "oh fuck. shit," he got out.

his chest heaved in deep pants in attempt to get his breathing back under control while samy just grinned. "d-did you swallow all of it?" the boy wondered, dragging his hand back up her thigh.

the brunette stuck her tongue out to show that there was nothing left. will groaned and that sight was enough to keep his dick hard. his other hand tugged samy back down to his mouth, kissing her particularly hard being no where near finished with her yet.

"god, you're so pretty," the boy muttered against her lips earning a small blush across samy's cheeks.

his hands tugged at her waistband as an indication that he wanted her shorts off. samy kicked them down her legs being left in her swimsuit bottoms that left little to the imagination. will's hand wandered across the exposed skin and took handfuls of her ass. he moaned at the feeling of her flesh in his hands while samy kissed him deeper.

the hockey player flipped them over so he now had the upper hand. a smirk lined his lips while he let his hand wander further down to her own waistband again. samy read the look in his eye, a smile crossing her lips as she tugged her boyfriend down for more kisses.

will took that opportunity to push her swimsuit aside and slowly slide one of his fingers into her warm walls. his action had a loud moan escaping samy's lips which brought a grin to his lips.

"fuck, will," samy's eyes closed, nails digging into his arms.

"this okay?" the boy breathed against her neck.

"mhm, more than okay," the brunette's own whimpers started escaping her lips as will's finger picked up speed before deciding to add a second one. he smirked to himself—who was the loud one now?

will found a good pace while peppering more light hickeys across his girlfriend's chest. they were for sure never going to hear the end of it from anyone after this. the sounds she made had the boy going crazy—all of it going straight to his now throbbing cock. every time samy's mouth opened will twitched, desperately searching for his second orgasm.

"need you so bad, pretty girl," he breathed into her ear earning another delicious moan in response.

"me too. need you inside me, will," samy's voice broke. she really couldn't look more gorgeous to will. her tear stained cheeks and kiss swollen lips made the boy go completely numb.

he slowly pulled his fingers out while samy dug through her nightstand for a condom. will's gaze fixated on her as she tore the wrapper open with her teeth and carefully rolled it on him. his hips jerked at her touch, a low chuckle escaping his lips between the breathy pants.

he grabbed ahold of samy's face, both of them falling back onto the bed again as he devoured her lips once more. in the next second, samy straddled will's hips.

"i'm so in love with you," will mumbled between kisses.

"so, so in love with you. so handsome," the girl replied.

she began lining will up with her entrance. as soon as the tip was in, each of them let out probably the loudest moans ever that would definitely let everyone else in the house know what they were up to. will's grasp on her hips became bruising while sang tugged harshly on his curls.

the further down samy went, the harder it was for will to keep his hips still. he used whatever self-control he had left to stay still as he bottomed out. the two were so desperate for one another they nearly came immediately.

"oh my god— fuck," a broken moan escaped will's lips as his eyes squeezed shut.

"you can move," samy urged. her walls stretched themselves out around the hockey player's thick cock—the feeling making her head spin.

"fuck, i can't. not yet. gonna fucking cum if i move," will panted, desperately trying to think of unsexy things so he wouldn't blow his load in the first five seconds.

after another few seconds, will found it in himself to start moving. he slowly bucked his hips up, hands digging into samy's flesh that would for sure leave marks. the brunette met his thrusts with a roll of her hips. the two began finding a good pace and samy's grinding turned into bouncing.

"yeah, fuck. so good for me will," the girl's head tipped back exposing all of the hickeys under her jaw and down her throat.

will felt his cock throb at the sight knowing he left all of those and they'd be impossible to hide.

"so fucking hot. shit hughes," the blonde moaned out. his hands went back to her ass—her bouncing turning his brain to mush.

it didn't take long for the bouncing to become too much for the hockey player. that feeling in his stomach returned and samy knew will was closed with how his cock twitched inside of her. she used her hands pressed against his chest as leverage to bounce faster and making sure her cleavage was on full display to try and get will to his orgasm.

"close will?" the girl wondered.

"mhm, so close—fuck—gonna make me cum," the boy got out in broken pants, eyes clued to her chest on full display for him.

samy smirked, working herself faster and ignoring the burn in her thighs form all the work she was doing. the sounds will let out was enough to push her to her own orgasm. she moaned out as she clenched around his length, riding out her high.

"cum for me will," she urged. her words and orgasm was enough to push the boy to his second orgasm.

he spilled into the condom with a string of curse words and samy's name leaving his lips while he held her down against him, riding out his own high.

"god, fuck. came so fucking hard," will panted once he regained some of his breath.

samy grinned, pushing his curls away from his sweaty forehead, both of their skins were glowing with moisture as the room filled with sex.

"did so good for me," the girl praised which had will's cheeks flushing.

"i love you so much," he mumbled and samy leaned down to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

suddenly, there was a rough knock on the door that had both of them tensing. the two exchanged a glance, waiting for someone to say something on the other side.

"just so you know, eth and i heard all of that. you guys are disgusting. you're so glad you don't have a room next to mom and dad," luke's voice came through while they could hear ethan's little snickers.

"fuck off," samy called back to her brother while will's cheeks turned a deep crimson. he'd never be able to look luke in the eyes for the rest of the summer.

"i gotta appreciate it though. will's got hella game," ethan spoke now and they could hear luke slap his friend on the arm for that comment.

"next time y'all need to get off take a drive somewhere," luke said before him and ethan walked away.

bonus:

will's eyes were glued to samy as she dragged him through the kitchen. they had smiles on their faces and the same look in their eyes while the girl searched for her car keys in the mess of everyone else's.

the boy's lips were already nipped at her neck as they stumbled their way to the garage. her hickeys from a few weeks ago hadn't even faded yet, but will was determined to add more.

as the two made it through the kitchen, they caught luke's gaze where he sat at the table eating some throw together peanut butter and jelly sandwich, his eyes widened when he saw samy's car keys, the look in their eyes, and will's slight bulge down in his shorts already.

"you fucking whores!" the middle hughes yelled, dropping his sandwich in disgust.

suddenly, he wasn't hungry anymore nor will he be anytime soon.

#hughes!sister x will smith au #will smith hockey #samy x will #boston college #boston college hockey #samy hughes #umich hockey #will smith imagine #will smith x oc #uofmichigan #will smith smut #will smith hockey fluff #will smith hockey smut

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

i absolutely fell in LOVE with your price fic holy shit. your writing is spectacular. then i read your request info and saw that you love keegan as well and my soul left my body.

So this is me requesting a keegan x reader fic bc i love this underrated man SO much!! maybe some enemies to lovers where one of them gets injured in the field and, thinking they're dying, a teary desperate confession ensues? lol im not good with prompts i just wanna see my man 🤧 thanks in advance i love ur work

(Don't) Go to War

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

Synopsis: Some days it became impossible not to lose your tempers with each other. Being enemies was easier than admitting you cared.

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: Angst, enemies to lovers, blood & gore, vulgar language, fluff & comfort eventually, suggestive (just a tiny bit)

A/N: Just a few more requests to get done, and then my inbox should be open again. I'm thinking I might do an independent Gaz fic too...but idk yet. Enjoy, Love!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Some days it became impossible not to yell at him.

“I had the shot, Keegan!” Your voice carries over the hull of C-23 Sherpa, and you didn’t bother to stay strapped into your seat as the aircraft levels out around you. Thrusting your body up, your feet slam to the floor as you stalk over to the silent man who watches you with burning blue eyes, “If you hadn’t gotten in the way the target would be six feet under by now!”

Your face was twisted with rage, and a need for justice laced your brain like an inextinguishable blaze of fire.

Keegan and you had a violent streak of not getting along - to the point where Elias was close to separating the two of you permanently. It wasn’t entirely your fault, the man just got on your nerves when he acted like he could boss you around. No Man’s Land was your playground; you knew the trails, where to take shelter when needed, and what towns and backroads to avoid because of Federation occupation. You spent most of your time beyond the walls of Fort Santa Monica just like Keegan and the other Ghosts did – he had no right to lecture you out here.

He had no right to fuck up the mission.

“Kid,” The man in question warns, his form tense from where it leans against the wall. Around the two of you, the aircraft shakes from turbulence. Keegan’s eyes narrowed to slits, and behind the cloth over his face you see his lips thin dangerously, “I’d be careful what you say next.”

“Oh, shut the hell up!” You growl. The dirt and blood sticking to your skin makes you want to scratch at yourself with blunt nails; rip away the grime. Stomping up to Keegan you stand directly in front of him, a sneer heavy on your lips. Your body is shaking with adrenaline, “You have no right to tell me that. I worked my ass off getting that intel on Vidal Teo for months just for you to mess up my shot in no less than three seconds. What the fuck?!”

Keegan’s dead eyes glare from behind the stain of his black eye paint, the custom balaclava shifting as his hidden face moves. Over his arms, his fingers tense and tighten; a pulsing atmosphere begins to perforate the hull. The already strained rope was snapping.

Vidal Teo was a high-ranking commander for the Federation soldiers stationed in a large portion of No Man’s Land. He was instrumental in leading the frontal assault on the Fort – which had been getting steadily worse as the years went on. Vidal was a man marked for death, and your bullet had his name carved into the silver grooves.

He was yours.

“I don’t like your tone, Princess,” Keegan hisses down at you, but his intimidation tactics don’t work. He was large, sure, with a gargantuan build that made your shoulders square, but the anger in your blood pumped with vengeance, “I’m in command of the mission, don’t go mixing it around. You listen to me.”

“Not when Teo was right fucking in front of me,” Your head whips to the side, hands clenched as you point a single finger into the man’s chest. The two of you were so close you could feel his gear brush against yours when he breathed. Inside your form, your pulse sings, “If you hadn't fired that shot all of this would have been finished. Now,” You lower your voice as his enraged eyes bore into you, “He’s off in the damn wind. We’ll never get an opportunity like that again.”

“Back up.” Keegan stands straighter, arms falling to his sides, and at that moment a sliver of hesitance makes its way into your heart as his shadow looms over you, “Now. Before you do something you’ll regret.”

Clenching your jaw, your finger falls. No matter how pissed off you were at the Ghost, one thing he said was right. Keegan was in control of this mission – technically he was your superior at the moment. You should listen to him.

Listen? Your eyes flash, Like he listened to me? I told him to not fire while I lined my scope up…Why the hell did he do that?

“The sooner you’re out of my life,” Growling, you stare deep into Keegan’s eyes and only slightly shiver at the intensity. You could feel his breath coming out in strained puffs, wafting over your face, “The better. This is on you…All of my goddamn work down the drain…”

Jerking back as you grumble the last sentence under your breath, you storm past the Ghost’s stone-still figure and enter the cockpit, feeling his locked gaze on you the entire time. You slam the door shut, only serving to make the pilots snap their attention to you, mouths slack and optics wide.

“What?” You growl, glaring and practically releasing steam out of your ears. Damn that man and his stupidly handsome face…What?

The pilots quickly stutter back to their controls, backs straight, and heads forward.

Blinking, you scrunch your lips; your sense coming back to you as your shoulders deflate.

“Fuck,” Grumbling, you bring your hands up and place them on top of your head, lacing the fingers together as your elbows stick out. You glance remorsefully at the two stiff profiles, “Sorry, boys. Long day.”

Elias was going to lecture you again.

He always did when you and Keegan got into fights – they were becoming more and more recent in the past few months. From common disagreements about misplaced knives or weapons to full-blown yelling matches over accidents on missions, the recurring bouts of thrown words never seemed to end.

You were so incredibly sick of it.

Why were you always fighting with him? Why did every action strike you in the heart like a blade? You were always tense around Keegan, sending sharp glances at him every time he was in the vicinity and sharper words a second later. He did the same in return, it wasn’t like this was one-sided. The man was determined to push every button in the book, and damn it if you didn’t do that as well.

Keegan was a man on a high horse; arrogant, hard-headed, rude, and held authority like a stick you could beat someone over the head with. He demanded utter perfection.

Sighing violently, you lean back against the door and shove your palms into your eye sockets; head tilting back to rest on the cool metal and soothe the growing headache.

The problem was, most of the time the man was right when he told you something – whether work-related or not.

“Tango to the left – weapons hot.”

“Contact Scarecrow, Exfil in five. We have a group just above the pharmacy building.”

“West, Kid. Snipers scope, take ‘em down.”

No Man’s Land was supposed to be your playground and all of a sudden some other kid comes along; starts throwing rocks at the equipment with a damn painted balaclava over his face. You didn’t want someone telling you how to do your job.

Frowning, your teeth nash in annoyance.

This flight back to Santa Monica couldn't end soon enough, and now you had months of Recon intel sitting in your office to throw into the trash.

—

You grabbed at the pinned-up files with paper-cut fingertips, looking over the contents before frowning. Tossing them to the side, your ears twitch at the flopping sound of them flying into the garbage bin at your feet.

The bulletin board was bare of all the red yarn, maps, and intel that you had once hung up with pride. Vidal Teo was gone, and just so the board was once more empty. It was hard not to feel cheated, angry, but maybe a part of you felt emptiness as well.

All of that work… just for one shot to mess it up. And the bullet wasn’t even from your own gun.

“I swear,” You whisper, itching at your nose, “If I ever get up on a team with him again…”

Trailing off, your legs shift and carry you to your desk where you throw yourself down into the chair. Thoughts of Keegan made your brain race, mind going to try and understand why. Even if you didn’t like the man, at least on the surface, you still respected him.

So, why? None of it made sense. Why fire off into the city at an unidentified target and send Teo rushing for cover? Why not explain to you what had happened when you were back on the plane? If he had made a mistake and admitted that, you would have accepted it… eventually, of course, but you still would have accepted it regardless. You would have had to.

Licking your lips, you tap your knuckles onto the metal of your desk, playing a long-forgotten tune. You never heard the door open.

“Heard the Op didn’t go as planned, but at least the two of you didn’t kill each other. I’d have a helluva a lot of paperwork to do if you put a bullet in his ass,” Sitting up straighter your head snaps to the open doorway, seeing the stocky stature of Thomas Merrick with his arms crossed over his chest, “Still, though, heard ya’ nearly made those pilots piss their pants when you yelled at ‘em.”

“Merrick,” You groan out, tipping your head past the chair’s backing, your neck digging into the wood, “You’re acting like I try to be a bitch.”

“Are you not,” When you glare at him, the man’s dark eyebrow raises slightly, “Because you’re failing at it – often. Elias’s at the end of his rope with you two.”

Grumbling, your nose scrunches, lips pulling back in a small snarl.

“It’s not my fault. Keegan hates me just the same.”

“That any excuse to yell at a superior?” Merrick sighs, shaking his bald head and walking forward, “Thought I trained you better than that?”

Your eyes flicker to his own, but seeing the blatant disappointment in them, you find it better to look at the empty bulletin board. Swallowing stiffly, your feet shuffle on the floor.

“Look at all my work, Thomas,” Shoving yourself to your feet, you walk to the small garbage bin and pick it up; holding it aloft, you watch the Ghost’s Field Officer's lips thin. There was a mass amount of wasted paper, pictures, and yarn that caught his eye. You go and slam it onto your desk, hearing the clatter as the pencil holder falls to its side, “Wasted. Because of one man’s actions – how many people are going to die now because I couldn’t make the shot? Ten, twenty, thirty…?”

“Kid–” Merrick begins, but you cut him off – still angry at Keegan and trying to strangle down the guilt of pushing it onto Thomas.

“If you don’t mind, Merrick, I have a shit-ton of reports to sign and no time to do them,” Once more flopping back into your chair, you rub your hands over your face and feel the skin pull. If you were anyone other than yourself, you would be getting a reprimand for interrupting a superior like that but Merrick was something of a friend to you.

Closing your eyes, you let the darkness behind your lids flood you as you take a deep breath.

The Ghost leaves after a moment without noise or a sound of encouragement, but that was just how he was. You feel his dark eyes on you, lingering, before he closes the door behind him and stalks away.

Finally left alone in silence, you let your thoughts run to try and answer the age-old question that ravaged your mind.

“What happened to make us like this?” You whisper, hands falling to your lap as you stare off into the distance with blank eyes.

You had never given it much thought – sometimes people just didn’t like each other. Ingrained enemies written into the annals of time and cursed to forever be at each other's throats like rabid animals. But then you realized that this wasn’t high school and you were an adult living in a fucked up world full of death and war. Coworkers no longer had the privilege to talk shit about the other behind their backs or not communicate their problems; being out in No Man’s Land forced people to compromise and work together like a well-oiled machine.

And well-oiled was not the way to describe yours and Keegan's relationship…more like a run-down and rusty car that screams every time you turn the key; practically begging someone to put it out of its misery.

Blinking, you realize, perhaps for the first time, how much of a problem this predicament with Keegan really was.

This could kill us both.

All of this began, you knew, a long time back, and, as it usually did, it had started out beyond the Fort before bleeding back into the ramshackle place you called home. The both of you were enemies far longer than you had been friends.

Your body was hot, sweat dripping down your temple and slipping the expanse of your chin, but still, you stood outside Elias Walker’s door with a tense jaw; fingers itching to rip into Keegan’s flesh. They were speaking inside, their voices hushed as your boots pooled mud and dirt onto the floor like a brand.

“She…went over the ridge?” Elias asks, voice deep, “And she’s alive?”

“Hm,” Keegan makes a savage noise in the back of his throat, and you have to hide your panting breaths to hear it. The damn bastard was always so silent any sound would perk your ears, even if they were ringing with reverberations of spent bullets.

“Then I don’t exactly see what the problem is, Keegan.”

A pause.

“...She’s impulsive. Combative. Doesn’t listen,” There was an inhaled breath, and you feel your face burn at the profound gravel-toned words, lungs making your chest tighten as they zip closed as a bag would. But those next comments make you growl in the back of your throat, rage like fire in your heart, “I don’t want her. Kid’ll get the people she’s placed with killed if she’s allowed to do that again!”

A sigh through the shocked silence.

“Then what do you suggest I do? She’s a valuable asset, I can’t just ground her – the Recon work she does is vital to finding Federation strongholds.”

“I don’t care what you do with her, Elias. Just keep her far away from me and the boys. Kid’s not my problem. Never want her to be again.”

Whatever harsh words are uttered next are lost to you, because your legs are already carrying you down the corridor with brimming tears stuck in the corners of your eyes.

It was more the way he said it than the contents of the clipped sentences. Like you were less than him, pathetic, and unworthy. Nothing more than a rookie holding a gun and parading off into the wilderness to have a good time. That was what wrecked you.

The next time you saw Keegan it was only narrowed glances and clenched fists; terse words. When you snapped at him for the first time, you swear his eyes slightly widened, cold blue one second then boiling bright the next.

You liked that look on him – shocked into a different type of silence. A type of anger you could meet head-on.

Fighting with Keegan soon became too addicting to ignore, a constant activity that never changed like the destroyed world always did. A failsafe at the end of the day.

The anger had never dimmed, infecting you like a poisoned worm stuck in your veins and weaseling its way to your heart. It had only grown the longer you let it sit, and at the end of the day, you festered over the image of the Ghost’s face with his eyes digging into your skin. You stayed awake at night mulling over the arguments, taking the insults and words like bullet wounds to your heart with barely restrained tears; feeling guilty because you threw some back as well.

But what hurt you the most was that, before the hushed meeting in Elias’s office, you had looked up to him. To Keegan. Perhaps you had even enjoyed his quiet company at one point when the loneliness of No Man’s Land got to you. The terrain was incredibly quiet in between the violent hails of gunfire and, on occasion, it would make paranoia infect your bones like a cancer; producing shaking limbs and tense fingers. When Keegan was with you…you hated to admit this, but he made the silence better. More survivable compared to when you were alone doing Recon with only a gun and a combat knife as deadly companions.

Your narrowed lids flicker to the trash bin on the desk.

There was still a small pinch of anger – resentment for the waste and for words spoken in haste – but your mind pulsed to find an explanation. A reason.

There must be a reason that Keegan would fire off a shot into the city prematurely…obviously it was to hit a target, but why? And why hadn’t he told you the reason?

I’m gonna rip my head apart if I keep thinking this over, You warn yourself, huffing under your breath.

You had reports to write up – tell of your failure to kill Vidal Teo and how many lives that will ultimately cost in the future. While you were stuck with a pen in your hand, scribbling away even as the sun had set outside, you had no idea of the stare-down going on in Elias’s office one floor up.

—

Elias’s eyes are sharp, a wave of dark anger deep in the iris as he stands with his arms crossed behind his desk, “Why’d you fire?”

Keegan's feet are shoulder length apart and his arms are clenched behind his back, spine straight; a deep tension lives in the thick air, bearing down weight on the men. The Ghost was still in his gear, the balaclava and black face paint in all its glory situated over his head. That was his best form of armor, allowing him to hide the deep sneer over his cruelly scared lips.

“Tango. Off in the next building,” Keegan’s voice was low, harsh, and cut to a point. He didn’t want to be there – there were many more important things to be done than getting a lecture like a five-year-old.

His sniper rifle needed cleaning, rookies needed to be disciplined, and the treadmills were calling his name. He had to work off all the bullshit in his head.

“The Girl had the shot. Vidal Teo needed to die, Russ – she knew that well enough. I want an explanation as to why a high-priority target is still up and walking.”

The silent beast of a man keeps his body still, even if his head is pounding. Hot adrenaline was still in his veins from how you were yelling at him in the Sherpa, the memory of your rage-twisted face burning into the back of his eyes. He had never seen you that angry before; shaking with the need to release your displeasure onto him. It had slightly taken him aback.

Fighting with you was predictable. You’d both throw insults, get into each other's faces and cruelly break down each other's psyche piece by piece – the man knew what to say and where the unspoken line was just as you did. Fighting was easier than admitting there was something deeper going on, something that you two were hesitant to even speak of.

But, hell, you had never gotten that upset at him previously. And, problem was, even if he wanted to deny it, Keegan knew he fucked up. Bad.

There wasn’t a way in hell that he was going to tell you that, though. He wasn’t going to tell you that his finger had moved before his mind could, pulling down on the hair-trigger of his prized rifle like a fucking novice. Even now self-resentment was worming into him.

He had never felt that to this degree before. He didn’t like it – couldn’t afford to acknowledge it.

What gave you the right to provoke those emotions from him? Maybe I need to ask to have her transferred. Brat’s messin’ with my head.

“Miscalculation. Won’t happen again.” His feet shuffle, boots shifting silently over the floor like that of his title. Miscalculation – he doesn’t make those. Never had after ODIN hit the US. There wasn’t any room for them.

Keegan was a master of taking lives with a swift movement and a pull of a trigger; no one had ever known him to be reckless.

They had you for that.

Elias narrowed his eyes, head tilting, as a tightness is seen rippling through his jaw, “You’re going to have to lie better than that, Son.”

Keegan stilled, dead eyes boring into the other man’s. The sharp blue deepens, darkens. His shoulders set themselves, but the ingrained looseness is still there if someone looks close enough and spies it. Instinct is hard to fight.

“Elias?” He asks from behind the fabric of his face covering but utters no more.

Keegan was a man of few words – very few. Actions served him better, but in this room, there was no point to them. Walker was his superior; his Captain, but more so the closest thing to a brother Keegan would ever have. There wasn’t a choice in this, even if the men had gone through hell together as Ghosts.

“Don’t play me for a fool, Keegan,” The graying man mutters out, shaking his head and going to rest his hands on the top of his desk, “I’ve known you a long time. You don’t fuck up something like this. Never have. So don’t insult me with that half-assed answer.”

Elias pauses, sighing when Keegan just stares at him with blank, black-laced, hard eyes. The man was a damn empty slate, never moving, never giving away anything to betray his emotions.

“I want a full report on my desk in a week. I’m sure the Kid’ll have hers done in a day, but I want you to explain yourself. In detail. You hear?”

“Copy.”

“Dismissed.”

Keegan turns and leaves without another word, just a burning in his gut and a righteous sense of surety in his bloodstream. Your face slashes over his vision as he exits the room, he closes the door behind him and thumps down the halls. People move out of his way quickly, sending glances with pupils so tiny they practically disappear altogether; Keegan knew he was intimidating, especially with all his gear and smelling like gunpowder and blood. Didn’t bother him much.

It seemed like it didn’t bother you either, judging by how you were in his face screaming all the time.

Damn brat, Keegan thinks, itching at his nose bridge and sending stiff glances at the rows and rows of closed doors and windows, She doesn’t know anything.

Before long his feet had carried him down corners and hallways as his head pounded, and it wasn’t a surprise that when he shook himself out of his trance the entire make-up of the floors and walls had changed.

Wait…where was he?

His pace slows to a stop, and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. Where had he ended up while his mind was running at the thought of you? This had never happened before – the Ghost’s head was all out of sorts if he was talking walks around the Fort without a destination. Every action of his had a purpose, why was that now becoming anything less than fact?

Annoyance plagued him.

Sliding his eyes around, a certain office window catches his viper-like attention. It was the only one with a light still on, warm rays shining out into the hallway, and the shuffling of paper and manila folders flowing to his ears. The door was only minutely ajar, a sliver, and nothing more. About to turn around and leave the area, Keegan halts at the sound of a familiar voice grumbling. His heart jerks.

Blue eyes narrow, and that annoyance at himself grows to find an external outlet.

The hell is this Kid doin’ up so late? Doesn’t she know when lights out is? Fuck, looks like she can’t follow simple guidelines either.

With shuffling feet, he takes a step forward and has every intention to bust down the door and force you to the barracks; lecturing you on the importance of rest when he suddenly realizes something.

Why does he care if you get a good night's sleep?

Growling under his breath, he happens to get a glimpse of a moving shadow through the window that gives him pause with one gloved hand on the woodgrain of the door. If possible, he feels his body completely stop at the scene; his eyes flickering into a widened look.

And what was that tightening in his chest?

You were staring at the hung-up bulletin board, having dragged your desk chair over and situated it right in front of the bare rectangle that once held an innumerable amount of papers and information.

Keegan had seen it himself right before the mission had started. Your eyes lit up when you could tell him everything you knew about the target from his schedule to what he ate in the mornings.

Eggs with a protein bar. Two cups of milk.

You had gathered all of that info yourself – countless trips into Federation-occupied territory that left you coming back with bruises and deep lacerations. Keegan knew; he had watched you limping back through the gate with a shielded look in his eyes. But now the board was blank and useless, holding nothing but your knowledge that it was once filled with your labors.

The Ghost’s hand on the door loosens, and he takes a slow inhalation of breath as your tired eyes get glossy. When had you gotten those bags under your eyes? Keegan’s lips pull thin behind his balaclava. Had…had you always looked that tired?

Had you both really been fighting so much that he had stopped noticing the most basic parts of you that he had watched so closely before?

“I had it…” Keegan’s shoulders tense when he hears you speak, but he doesn’t move. A needle of guilt moved to dig deeper. Your hopeless sigh leaves him gritting his teeth, “Fuck.”

Digging your palms into your eyes, he watches you shake, limbs tense and hunched over nearly into a ball. He has the sudden urge to push the door open, not to scold you but to simply stand by your side. Tell you the truth.

Keegan’s eyebrows pull together, gaze flicking away from you so his brain can focus. But it was like a magnet was stuck behind his optics because it wasn’t long before his eyes flowed back to the small figure.

He stays there for a good while, watching, with a weighted chest and pounding heart. Keegan couldn’t really say what he was thinking about, but all of it certainly involved you. So why couldn’t he open the door?

When your head jerks back up, his eyes widen, body swiftly moving back.

By the time you look out the office window, his shadow is already disappearing down the hallway.

—

You nearly lose your cool when Elias tells you Keegan was accompanying you out into No Man’s Land once more. The bags under your eyes burned – weeks had passed since the fight, and you had gotten little sleep since then.

“Teo was sighted by one of the drones near an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of San Francisco. I want you and Keegan on the trail, and, hopefully,” Elias mutters as Merrick and Ajax listen in the background. Your apparent partner stands behind you, leaning back on the wall with his arms crossed, “We can put this to rest.”

Standing rail-straight, your face is twisted but you keep yourself under control. Even being in the same room with Keegan made you want to lash out. At your sides, your hands slowly clench into tight fists, and behind you, a sharp gaze digs its claws into your skull.

He’s watching you. Studying like he always does when he thinks you don’t notice.

“Sir,” You answer the older Ghosts blankly, lips stiff, “If you think that’s best.”

“I do,” Merrick raises a brow behind Elias, and you pretend not to notice as Ajax’s shoulders shake, “That going to be a problem?”

Ironically, Keegan and you both answer at the same time, a strangling silence before a snarled, “No, Sir.”

The pair of you shipped out in thirty minutes, but neither of you bothered to look at the other as you gathered supplies in the armory; grabbing magazine after magazine and strapping knives to thighs, arms padded with thick clothes and heavy black combat vests. Keegan was applying his face paint despite the dark color already stained into his eye sockets. You doubted it could come off anymore – the skin was probably so damaged by the chemicals it was pointless to try. Like some brutal birthmark. He slipped the balaclava over soon after.

The fabric covered the dark hair and strong jaw, slightly marred with stubble – long scars that grew harsher when his skin twisted; the angled lips below a sharp nose that had captured your attention the first time you had seen them. Keegan was undoubtedly handsome, carved from stone and silver – the remnants of that artistry only now glimpsed in his eyes as a cold reminder. It was funny, you thought, that someone so beautiful could be such an ass. You watched him, terse-like, and grabbed a revolver hanging from the rack, shoving it into your thigh holster.

He was acting off.

Keegan was more silent than he usually was; at this point, he would at least make a quick quip about your annoying habit of packing extra ration bars in your front pouch.

‘Gonna weigh you down, Kid, if you stuff one more of those damn things into your vest.’

But the more you sneaked glances, the more your feet started to shuffle in unease. The Ghost wouldn’t even look at you.

“You sick or something?” Your voice carries, echoing off the walls as you tighten the vest strap on your side. You had never bothered to be subtle when talking to the man – he appreciated bluntness, and that was one thing you could get behind.

“No,” Keegan slips past, suddenly colder than ever before, and disappears without another word.

Watching his back shift as he strides off, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and perhaps a bit of shock.

What the hell was that? You ask yourself, hands falling to your sides where they twitch. Keegan was damn confusing, but he had never been outright numb like that to you besides when you both first met. Your resentment flares in your breast, but with a shake of your head, you force it down. That wouldn’t help anyone, and you still wanted answers.

If this was how Keegan wanted to be then fine, you’d just have to ask Elias for his report when you got back and figure out for yourself why he had ruined the previous mission.

You grabbed a canteen of water and shuffled out the door, flicking off the light with a heavy finger and followed after the Ghost’s footsteps; dreading the Op but feeling your pulse beat at the thought of nabbing Teo once and for all.

This was ending. Today.

—

The aircraft landed just far enough away to be unseen by Federation soldiers and on the line of being annoyingly distant from the target. The hike would be through mountainous terrain – the land ravaged by the remnants of ODIN’s destruction and just beginning to heal. On top of steep cliffs, and sharp rocks, there would also be rampaging streams and thick foliage. Speaking from experience, you knew it was going to be a sweat-inducing mission…and that was before you got to the main point of it all.

Both of you disappear into the treeline after the pilot tells you the future Evac Point, hoofing it at a jog into the shadows and blending in like animals. Under your feet, the leaves crush, telling stories of where you placed your weight as the packs over your body jump with every jerk forward. Keegan takes the lead, silently expecting you to follow as your eyes stare into his back.

He still hadn’t talked to you. It made your skin crawl.

Watching his gait, you frown and clench your jaw. Why did it bother you so much? Wasn’t this what you wanted all along…for him to leave you alone?

Sighing, you hop over a downed log, seeing Keegan quickly send a look behind him at your form before snapping his head forward.

“There’s an old structure west of the Warehouse – a hunting lodge still standing from before ODIN was fired, I found it on one of my other Ops,” You call, moving faster to run side-by-side with the man. Dodging a tree, your tongue runs over your lips, “We should set up there – we’d have a clear shot.”

For a moment there was only the sound of shoved foliage, steady breaths, and clinking gear before Keegan replies.

“Affirm.”

He pulls ahead, and you’re left widely watching his shoulders, seeing the muscles under his attire ripple as they propel him faster away. Your eyelids narrow, a thin sneer flickering over your lips.

Keep your cool, You follow after, careful where you place your feet as the ground begins to ascend, If I get him in a good mood, maybe he’ll answer my questions later.

It was easier said than done, of course, and although your efforts were valiant, none of your plans to get him to speak to you landed. The hike ended with panted breaths and a setting sun, mist seeping like snakes over the rocks under your feet; the world was quiet, and try as you might you found a deep sense of loneliness in that. The pair of you were on top of a ridge, surrounded by deep green and gray. No birds sang, and no animals trampled the land – it was just the harsh wind and the creak of stretching metal from far ahead. The occasional smell of dirt that left your nose full of particles and led to coughing fits.

Perhaps Keegan had the right idea for a face covering, even if it was never intended for the reason of keeping the elements out.

The Warehouse was near a crater, one of the places ODIN had struck directly into the Earth, and teetered on the edge of oblivion as it was half-falling apart and drenched in red rust. Occasionally, as a tremor rolled through, pieces of it would fall off and slam to the ground a million miles away, deep into the crust of what was left.

Definitely a place for a safe house. No one would bother to look here unless you already knew about it or were hiding something.

Thinking to yourself, you rub the sweat off your nose with the back of your hand, eyes flickering to the hole in the Earth with shielded disgust. It had been over ten years, but the horror was still there. All of those innocent people…

“Here,” The smooth voice startles you, but your attention diverts quickly to the man at your side. His hands hold out a red cloth in his first and second fingers and pointedly avoids sneaking a peak at your shocked expression. Your mouth opens and closes, optics bouncing back and forth between the gift and the strange Ghost.

You could hear a pin drop if you had one to throw.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“Your stench is going to alert the guards – wipe yourself off. I need to repeat myself, Princess?” With an unamused face, you snatch the textile and rub it over your heated skin, reveling in the dismissal of layers of salt.

“Asshole,” You mutter, “You better not have used this before me; if I get acne I’m shaving your head in your sleep and siccing Riley on you.”

“Sounds fun. Better make sure I’m dead by the end of it.”

“Trust me, I will. I’ll make sure to chuck your body from the Fort wall, too,” Sliding past him, you toss the cloth at his chest, “Hunting lodge is this way.”

You get so close your shoulders lightly brush, and although you hate the implications, the action leaves your chest tight as you inhale his scent of blood and shrill chemicals. Clenching your jaw, you don’t take in the way his warmth floods your veins or the cold gaze that follows your back as you walk away; briefly softening around the edges like a blunt blade before being sharpened once more under stone and rock.

Hearing his feet lightly caress the ground behind you, you let out a slow breath, shoving away a branch of a low tree and peeping back. Keegan's gaze locks on your own as if he was waiting for this, and you curse not being able to see his expression – but it wasn’t like that would give away anything either. The Ghost was blank, much like the bulletin board had been when you ripped your work from it.

Raising a dark brow, the man grunts under his breath in question as his large shadow leeks over your form.

“Nothin,’” You mutter and turn back, fixing the strap of your rifle and side step a piece of cut wood, looking like it was the remains of a windowsill that had been broken during the shockwave and flung from a house, “Thanks for the rag. Even if it did smell like Gun Oil.”

Blinking down at the forgotten object, your arms push through one more set of fauna and huff when you lay eyes on the run-down lodge that would be Base Camp. Rushing up the decaying steps, you push the paint-peeing door open and throw your hands out.

“And here we are,” Walking with acute familiarity into the one-room area, “Home sweet home,” You nod your head to the left, where a large window gives a clear view of the Warehouse down below, “We’ll take the shot from over there, but…here…where did I…?”

Stumbling to a stop, you take one step back and ignore the narrowed eyes on your back.

“The hell you looking for, Kid?”

“Shh,” You snap your fingers at a loose board near a broken-down TV stand, “There we go!” Jogging over, you place your foot on one end of the board and grab the now-propped-up opposite side with a heavy hand. Like a teeter-totter.

Tossing the wood away, you grab the stash you had hidden years ago and hold it aloft near your head as you turn around.

Keegan watches with small eyes, head tilted, and feeling a bit curious about where this was going. What were you holding in your hand…? Was that…?

“Chocolate bars? I thought those were under strict ration laws?” His booted feet carry him closer to you and the plastic bag holding three bars of the old treat, “Damn, Kid.”

The man didn’t ask how you knew they were there – at least, yet – but he had an idea. You had logged more hours outside than anyone else besides the Ghosts, and with your affinity to keep to your own, it was only common sense that you had stashes all over California.

“Special occasion,” You mutter, opening the bag and tossing him one. Of course, he catches it, flipping it over in his hands and rubbing a thumb over the wrapper. Keegan’s eyes filter back to yours slowly, and under him, his feet shuffle to shift his weight.

“Y’know these things are probably older than Fort Santa Monica, right? It’ll give you gut rot.”

“God, I hope so,” You rip the wrapper open and snap off a piece as you hear crinkling from the other bar being opened; you toss yours into your mouth and smirk, “Maybe Ajax’ll finally lend me his alcohol stash to help me out for once. Bastard keeps making excuses.”

The bar was a bit stale if you were being honest, but it was still chocolate in your books. Stuffing the rest of it in your side pocket, you slip the rifle from around your back and head to the window, with the butt of the gun you raise it up and bring it down. A corner of the glass shatters into a million pieces, falling to the ground outside like tiny stars and reflecting the dying light.

Far below, miles away, the Warehouse seems dead to the world, but your and Keegan’s trained eyes spy the microscopic shadows in the rust-strangled metal walls, slipping past like rats over the holes and windows.

“Visual?” The man next to you asks, pulling back down his balaclava, and your ears twitch as you gaze through your scope; watching with perfected focus. Pulling back with a grunt, you flip the gun and rest the barrel against the wall, sighing.

“Negative. There won’t be until the sun sets fully,” Keegan turns to look down at you, and the fabric around his mouth shifts into a frown. You raise a brow and explain, not needing him to ask his question, “I‘ve tracked this guy like a teenager on the internet who has a crush. I know his routine. When the sun sets he checks the perimeter with two of his guards, Fabián Julieta and Santos Rosa – I have reason to believe they’re his cousins, but it’s never been confirmed.”

“You sure he’ll do that?” Keegan scoffs, looking back out and tapping his fingers over his thigh holster, “There was just an attempt on his life. Not exactly the time to follow procedure.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to leave it to fate. Plus,” You can’t help but mutter, “We wouldn’t have been in this situation if you hadn’t messed up.”

The air thickens.

Keegan’s body stills, frozen like his bones had just been covered in frost and doused in frigid waters. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch with bated breath. But he notices the trap, it seems, because his neck never enters the snare laid out. The tension that had lived over you both like a dark cloud suddenly gained lighting, quick flashes of light over the sky.

“It’ll be too dark by then,” Is his only response – even if it’s clipped and growled out like a man ready to snap. He wanted to start an argument, you could tell with growing amusement. Keegan’s arms clench at his sides into shaking fists.

“Then it’s a good thing Ghosts can see in the dark,” You smirk, tilting your head to the side and beginning to reach for the rest of the chocolate bar resting in your pocket, “Isn’t that right? Make sure not to freak out and fire at the birds–!”

The hand latches onto your shoulder before you can process the man had even moved; eyes widening to the size of plates as the pressure snaps your body to face forward. You let out a light yip as your feet drag. Despite the hold being firm, Keegan’s fingers never dig too tight.

Your eyes level on his, gazing deep into his boiling blues that shimmer the longer you stare. Had the middle always had flecks of green? Inside your chest, your heart pounds like a drum as, behind the balaclava, his jaw clenches. Keegan’s breath is like a breeze over your hair, rustling it.

“Don’t…do that,” He says slowly. You just watch, wide-eyed, “Don’t speak on shit you have no idea about.”

Whatever had made your lungs constrict fled in an instant.

“What?” Your lips twist, “You mind telling me how I’d have ‘no idea’ about an Op I was supposed to come back with a confirmation of death on?”

You shove his arm off your shoulder and hate the way the chill of the air overtakes his warmth.

Keegan’s shoulders set, “Kid, I’m ordering you to–”

“Cut the shit!” You yell, finger going to shove into his face and watching his head whip to it before wafting back to your visage. If possible his shoulders widen even farther, legs tense and straight. This was it – your confusion would go no further, you decided, “You’re going to explain all of this, Keegan–!”

“Watch the damn volume–”

“Explain why I’m out here, why you messed up the mission–!”

“Listen to me. I need you to–”

“Why my fucking work was all wasted because you pulled the damn trigger and I’m reaping the consequences like an idiot with a guy who hates my guts–!”

“There was a sniper on the roof.”

Your rampage stops just as you were about to open your mouth once more. You stare at him at the bombshell, not even able to process it for a moment. Blinking, you realize you had moved Keegan backward so his back was pressed into the opposite wall; your body was pressed tightly up next to his. With every fast breath, you could feel your chest connect with his, and your finger was still against his peck, digging into the gear.

Sucking in a quick breath, you gathered what little courage you had gained and looked up into his face with a fire lit in your blood.

“...W-what?” Keegan’s body shifts and his arms go to grab your elbows.

He doesn’t move you, just gives them a firm squeeze and explains as his heart pounds in his chest. Under the cloth, his mouth is slightly parted, and his pupils are wide.

“Federation sniper,” He utters, blinking as your face goes void of emotion, “I didn’t know if he’d seen you yet, but I…”

The Ghost trails off as his thigh brushes yours, all of the pouches uncomfortable to feel digging into his skin, but worth it if he can make this right.

“Why…Why didn’t you tell me?” You whisper out, the skin of your eyebrows moving to press the tiny hairs closer together. This changed everything, “Why did you…?”

Keegan’s face is so close to yours that he can smell your shampoo through the dark fabric over his nose, suddenly suffocating on the comfort the covering usually brought him. Why was his heart racing in his chest? You were being irresponsible, yelling like that, and stubborn, hard-headed.

But, damn, if anger wasn’t a good look on you. Your body heat was leaking into him, making him swallow heavily.

“Because…knew you’d blame yourself,” He said simply, staring at you deeply as your expression softens just as Keegan’s body does against the wall; you lean in deeper to his hold, “Just didn’t expect you to take it all so hard.”

“What? You just wanted me to let it go?” You utter, feeling and finally admitting how addicting it felt to be this close to him. For the life of you, you can’t find it in yourself to look away from him. What was happening?

“Again, didn’t know you’d take it so hard,” He raises a brow, grip falling from your elbows to lightly grab your hips. You force down a shiver, veins alight with molten lava at the strange contact. The Ghost continues, “Where’d you get the idea I hated you?”

Your throat swallows down saliva, not understanding the feeling in your gut.

Shit, You think, Maybe that chocolate was bad – my head’s spinning…All I can smell is Keegan. But why am I not trying to leave?

Just a moment ago you were angry at him, but now everything made sense. A sniper, God, he could have just told you. It would have fixed a lot of things.

You mull over his question; do you answer it honestly? But for some odd reason, your mouth runs faster than your mind – it always had, and certainly always would. At least around Keegan, that is.

A breaking point had been reached, wherever you went from here was entirely up to the two of you.

“You said you didn’t want me,” The man’s breath stills, and you feel it just as you hear it; his scanning optics halt their study of your features, as if he had been seeing them for the first time in this light, “That I’d get people killed…why…why do you think I always work by myself nowadays?” Your nose begins to hurt, eyes falling to Keegan’s chest. You try to shove it down, but your hand over his vest shakes slightly. Where was this coming from? Why were you telling him this? The source of your animosity, how you two became, at least in your mind, enemies, “I just didn’t want to be a problem.”

Muttering out the last sentence, you swear Keegan’s chest hitches, heart kickstarting.

“I…” He begins after a long moment of mutually avoiding eye contact. If you look into those beautifully cold blues you might break.

But voices from below snap whatever the both of you would externally loathe but internally revel in; the longing in the two pairs of eyes is replaced by duty and unsaid words. The action was mechanical, and both parties rushed to the window, with your fingers grasping the rifle and Keegan grabbing the binoculars from his largest pouch.

Like birds of prey, the two work in such sync that others would question if they even hated each other at all – and if they had seen the scene just moments prior the thoughts of denial would have been strengthened ten-fold.

Did you hate Keegan? Or did you hate what he had done? Now really wasn’t the time to question it, but as the Ghost called out the distance and spotted Vidal Teo in pitch darkness, you can’t help but mutter, “Knew you could see in the dark, Kee,” And lined up the shot.

Your finger pulls the trigger with little more than a second thought, and your shoulder catches the recoil with a grunt leaving your lips.

“Direct hit. Target down,” A soft hand squeezes your shoulder as you watch the body drop from the scope. Grim satisfaction breeds in your heart. Your eye roves to Keegan’s face, who nods his head at you, “It was a good shot, Princess.”

Face heating, all you do is scoff, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, well…I suppose you called it.”

“Really, you can’t just take the compliment?“

“Do you want me to beat you over the head with this rifle?”

You both stand up and send coded glances to the other, and where the backhanded comments would usually be hostile, the small differences in presentation lean more toward teasing than anything.

It was…nice. Foreign, but nice.

Chuckling, you toss the rifle around your back and listen to panicked voices echoing out from the warehouse. Keegan still stands near the window, with his back to it, while you inch to the door and itch at the back of your neck. He stares at you strangely, no doubt thinking about what you had confessed prior.

He had no idea you had heard the conversation with Elias. The Ghost’s chest constricts, remembering the words he had said in concern and anger. Had you really heard all of it? That would explain the sudden cold attitude that was mirrored back to him all those months ago.

Damn, Keegan blinks, and his head tilts as you stare back at him with a questioning expression. Your face was innocent with sweaty flesh filled with dust and grime. His fingers itched to wipe away the slash of black dirt from your forehead and, against his will, his stone blue softened to water in his eye sockets.

Your lips twitch at the rare expression. You had a lot to talk about when you both get back to base.

“We should get going before–”

Glass shatters, and a loud pop like an opening soda can startles you so bad you swore your heart stopped. Two things happen in that instance that will be ingrained into your head forever, carved like a scar in the fine tissue and tender to the touch.

One, his blood splattered your face, making you blink rapidly and reel back.

Two, the sound of Keegan’s hitting the floor – deadweight – and the loud gasp that exits his mouth, all the air expelled from his lungs not allowing him to even scream.

“Keegan!” You yell, rushing over and grabbing onto his shoulders, flipping him over with a grunt and panicked breath as you brush away the crimson from your eye sockets with a fast hand, “Shit!”

His body slams once more to the old wood, this time his back now on the floor. Blood pools down from a gunshot wound over his right abdomen, and your eyes land on it immediately, lungs struggling to suck down air.

Below you, Keegan lets out a wheezing sound, arm coming half-up to clench in the space above him, shaking violently.

“Fucken’...” The man gasps, and his body jerks, trying to move despite the hole in his side. Your fingers rip open your medical pouch, eyes darting back to the window. You lightly stand up, frantic eyes darting and freezing. Spying a glint of light reflected from the moon, you quickly dip back to the floor.

Sniper scope.

Rushing to grab Keegan under the shoulders, he yells out curses as you drag him to the side and out of the line of sight of the window. Tearing out a rag and a roll of gauze from your stash, you look at his face as you shove the cloth against the leaking wound, bunching the fabric and working it into the crater.

Keegan snarls, head going back to slam to the floor as his eyes flutter. Those blues of his were wide and whizzing back and forth in a primal display, and behind the balaclava, you could see his throat bob with strangled, open-mouthed, breaths. Fuck, fuck, fuck…!

“Hey!” You shout, bringing up one hand and lightly slapping his cheek as you lean your body weight into his side. Your heart was going too fast, it was going to break out of your chest if you didn’t get a grip. But…Keegan’s blood was staining your hands; leaking down your face to drip from your chin. And the fact remained that the Federation soldiers now knew your position and were rushing to the dilapidated lodge. You needed to get him out of here, “Keep your damn eyes open – the only person who gets to kill you is me!”

“What…what the fuck, Princess?”

“You heard me!” Your body was shaking just as much as Keegans as you gnash your teeth together, “‘Doesn’t listen,’ my ass, your ears work less than mine do.”

You’re panicking; using born and breed sarcasm and clipped words to ease you back into focus.

You had to move him – had to get him out of here. But would you be able to? He was big; far larger than you and weighed twice as much in muscle alone, not to mention the gear... Your mind did the math even as you pleaded with it not to.

He would have to help you on his own if this was going to work. And that meant keeping him conscious.

Keegan lets out a loud cough, and your fingers itch to move his face-covering so he can breathe better. But you unravel the gauze instead, going to shift his body to wrap it around the rag – holding it in place.

“Gotta’ move,” He snarls at you, trying to keep the pain at bay as it sweeps over him like waves of water, in and out, in and out.

“Working on it.”

Right as you tie off a tight knot on the already bloody wrappings, the Ghost tries to get up, an arm turning to slam to the floor behind him and vibrate as he forces his weight on it. Knowing that was a bad idea but not having another choice, you loop one of his arms over your shoulders and grunt. Bearing the brunt of his weight you hold your breath and angle your feet; shoving with all of your strength and gasping out.

“What the hell do you eat, man? Rocks?” As you grip with your free hand at his limp wrist, you take a quick glance at Keegan when you don’t hear a response. When he’s up, one of your hands goes to wrap around his waist.

The man’s eyes were fluttering fast, pupils retracted in pain. The blood leaking from him stains your body as you hike his form closer to you, feeling the warmth of the flesh enter your skin like a candle’s flame.

“Keegan!” You call, shaking his body. The man lets out a low groan, sharp eyes snapping to yours. You're taken aback when you see them immediately soften as they land on your panic-laced form, “You’ve gotta help me, okay?”

Speaking slowly, you hope he listens as he blinks at the blood on your face, eyebrows tensing.

“Copy,” He mutters and sends about the closest he can to a stiff nod your way.

Immediately all weight is taken from your hold and he stumbles to stand up straight, a hand snapping to his side as his feet drag.

“Not all of it! Idiot!” Growling, you rip him back to you, hissing in disapproval as he lets out a deep curse; nearly falling into you. Forcing him forward, you go as fast as you’re able to the entrance door and already a sheen of exertion is falling over your face. How the hell is he so heavy?

“Fuckin’ confusing, Kid…Just tell me what you– what you want, I’m bleeding out here,” Keegan barks, annoyance falling from him onto you. Was it really that impossible for the two of you to get along that you were fighting while he was seeping crimson all over you? You were getting along just a second ago.

“You’re impossible, Keegan Russ,” You lock onto him in the corner of your eye as you practically drag him to the door, shoving it open with your shoulder. Your fingers dig into his side and his wrist, trying not to get distracted by the strong muscle you feel writhing under your touch. Without meaning to, your grip had gravitated under his shirt, touching bare skin littered with scars and burns – hot and pulsing with life.

Your grip goes deeper, nails creating crescent moons in his flesh as you, somehow, get him down the stairs without falling flat on your face.

Did he just shiver?

“Evac point,” Muttering to yourself, you move faster, heart beating as shouts echo out over the hills, “Shit.”

“Focus,” Keegan utters to your side, “Don’t think about it. What…what’ll happen will happen.”

“Bullshit,” You growl and glance back to see the trail of blood over the ground. Shaking your head you stumble into the treeline, mouth open to help you suck down more air into your lungs, “If you expect me to believe that, you’re a fool.”

“..Maybe,” He coughs, and you have to pause for a moment and look in concern as dark phlegm splatters to the ground. No, you think, no not yet. He can’t do this to you, “Maybe I have been.”

“What,” You attempt a wet chuckle, not liking the conversation but if it kept him awake you would entertain it, “It only took you taking a shot to the side to realize that? There’s no hope for you, Kee.”

“Like when you call me that,” Lips thinning, you work your legs faster, dodging a rock and shimmying past a tree, “Sounds nice.”

Your face heats at the shock-induced confession, breath inhaled in a sharp breath.

You look at him, only to find his eyes already locked on your visage. The unrelenting optics ripped you open with how lucid they looked, even if his mouth seemed to have lost its filter. Taking it as a good sign, you tear your head back to the front, biting into your lips as your legs shake.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” You whisper, clearing your throat as Keegan lets out a small strangled sound from the back of his mouth as you stumble over a log on the ground, “But keep talking to me, yeah?”

“I don’t hate you,” He confessed with a soft voice, “...Was jus’ worried you would hurt yourself. Too hard-headed for your own good.”

“Could say the same thing about you,” Your lungs are burning, but you remind yourself it’s not even half as much pain as Keegan is going through. He carries himself so well, even holding some of his own weight to help you. How was he even still standing? If you had gotten shot like that, you’d be screaming your head off.

He’s a Ghost, You remind yourself, They defy all laws of nature and common sense.

“I’m sorry, Kid,” That makes you stop, body halting halfway through a step as your face blanks, panting out air and eyes popping out at the weak words, “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

Swallowing down saliva into your dry throat, your mind tells you to keep moving. The meeting in Elias’s office…he was…he was apologizing to you? Stuttering only a moment, you resume your break-neck journey with a burning face and jumping heart.

“Apology not accepted,” You growl, sending a sharp glance his way. Keegan’s eyes widen in surprise – but they look slightly buggy, “When we get back to the Fort, you’re saying it again…When you’re not getting me all covered in your fluids.”

The chuckle he lets out startles you, but you resist the urge to bring him even closer to your form and bask in his heat. He was…nice to feel against you, you admitted. Strong. Comforting in a rabid dog sort of way.

“Yeah, but you’d like…like that wouldn’t you, Princess?”

…Did he just..? When your jaw drops in shock, he lets out another gasping chuckle that divulges into a coughing fit. Getting your bearing back, you roll your eyes above the embarrassment in your blood even as your lower body pulses. Your legs shuffle as your breath goes thin.

“Let’s keep the dirty jokes under wraps, too, okay?... Who knew blood loss made you into a fucking comedian? Mr. Stand-Up over here.”

“Hm,” Keegan grunts, wheezing in a breath. You watch a dribble of blood fall from the side of his mouth with a grim face, mind running.

He can’t die, You shake with nerves and adrenaline, I won’t let him.

There was a brimming affection for the man you had been forcing down like a mouthful of food, and his drunk honestly right now was throwing you for a loop.

“I’ll get you to the Evac point, Keegan, I promise,” The shouts were getting closer, and the Ghost’s eyes were falling closed once more.

You wanted to see his face – make him stare at you.

“Know you will,” His eyes clenched closed and you felt his weight fall more over you. Groaning breathily, you take it and continue onward with little concern for how your nerves tingle, “Y’know,” The next words he says are so muffled you barely hear them, but when your brain processes the gravel and sifts through the depth of it, you feel tears wet the sides of your vision, “I think I a-actually like you, Kid.”

Keegan goes slack, and the sounds of shouting grow ever closer. It takes everything in you not to scream out.

—

He wakes up with a buzzing in his ears and a bright light assaulting his eyes. It takes Keegan a good while to fully open his eyelids, flinching as the bulbs set into the ceiling seem to only get more violent as his senses come back to him.

A groan exits his lips, and the scent of bleach and sterile air makes his head rove on the hard pillow under it.

“Well,” A masculine voice results in Keegan jolting up like he was hit with an electrical current, body spasming at him to stay still but not able to stop the ingrained instincts in his head, “Took you long enough. Ajax was just about losing his mind for one of you two to wake up. Had to order him to go run laps.”

“Merrick,” Keegan clenches his hands in pain, but his eyes fall to the man sitting in one of the visitor chairs at the door. The Medical Ward's familiar walls soon entered his sight, and ignoring the flair of agony in his bandaged side, the dark-haired man brought a hand to his face. Keegan takes a deep breath and flinches, “Explain.”

“What happened,” Standing, the stocky man cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders before glancing down to his side. Merrick points over Keegan's shoulder and nods his head, “Is that the girl dragged your limp ass all the way to the Evac point with a bullet wound in ‘er shoulder. Took out a few soldiers as well – one helluva hot exit.”

Sneaking a peak back, Keegan was stunned to find a matching hospital bed not a few feet from his own, a rack for a curtain drawn back to allow a view of a woman asleep; her right arm was in a sling and heavily bandaged, the covers pulled back to her midsection. You. His eyes stay locked on your form, momentarily forgetting the pulling of sutures in his side.

You had…gotten shot. Protecting him.

“How bad,” His lips move faster than his head, a trait he was beginning to pick up and associate with only you.

“You needed to go into surgery–”

“Not me,” Keegan growled, itching at the gown that had been put on him. His eyes never left you, the peaceful expression on your face he had never seen before leaving a warm feeling in his gut. With a sigh, he mutters out with a tone far softer than it had been before, “Her.”

Merrick smirks, watching the rise and fall of your chest and seeing Keegan doing the same, just far more closely.

“Prescribed pain meds and on leave for two months. It was a clean shot – lucky for her.”

Keegan nods his head stiffly, moving the pillows up on the elevated mattress and leaning back with a throaty groan.

“I’ll go tell Elias you’re awake,” Merrick swiftly turns and opens the door, but pauses in the opening. The other man watches closely with a frown. Without turning around, Thomas utters, “Kid was pretty shook up when you wouldn’t come ‘round. You should fix that.”

The Ghost disappears and closes the door behind him.

Blinking at the wooden barrier, Keegan wastes no time in pushing back the covers of his bed and pressing his feet to the floor; hissing at the chill but only running a hand through his hair in retaliation. His dark eyes watched you as he gritted his teeth at the strain in his side, the faint ripping of stitches.

The pain didn’t bother him, didn’t sway his actions. His socked feet move over the floor to stand above you. He breathes slowly, sucking down cool air as he pauses for a minute or two.

“You’re something else, Kid,” Keegan whispers, cold eyes narrowing as his thumb goes to swipe away the dirt smudge on your forehead with delicate movements. He didn’t want to wake you.

The mirror across the room shows a beast of a man carefully cleaning the face of a woman who murmurs to herself, shifting closer to the hold with a small sigh. Keegan, whose lips quirk in a small smile that pulls at scars and black, irreversible, face paint, finds the warmth in his blood addicting. His heart slowly speeds up, and although crimson was staining his bandages, he couldn’t find it in him to go back to bed.

“If you keep doing that,” Your voice snaps him out of his stupor, and his hand is snatched back to his side in an instant; feet shoulder length apart and tense, “I just might die on you.”

The light above you plays in your eyes, bouncing off the color and reflecting it directly into Keegan’s iris as the skin of your eyelids peel back. You blink up at him, vision coming back into focus as you stretch your legs out under the covers.

Sending a small smile to his blank face, you chuckle, “What?” You groan, “I was being sarcastic.”

A smirk is all you get, a slight twitching at the side of his lips at the fatigue in your tone.

“How long?” Keegan asks, raising a dark brow. Knowing what he’s asking, you scoff, face bright.

“Only about five minutes. I caught the end of Merricks conversation,” You reply.

“Hm.”

“Don’t give me that look – I’m in the room, what do you want me to do…not listen? Tch,” Your hand presses into the mattress, shoving you up.

A hand splays over your back immediately to help.

Goosebumps litter your arms as Keegan’s grip lightly digs into your gown, assisting you where your other arm can’t. Sparing him a glance, you watch with heat on your ears and neck as his attention remains solely fixated on you. Blue breaks open your skin and infects you with its chill. Liking the feel of it, you let it in and embrace it.

When you’re sitting up, silence ensues, with Keegan’s eyes studying your body as you do the same. His hand remained on your back.

Does he remember what he said? You wonder, locking on the thick wrappings under the man’s gown with a frown, Or was he too out of it?

“Feelin’ alright, Princess?” Your eyebrows raise as he tilts his head.

“I should be asking you that.”

“We both got shot,” Keegan shoots back, and the black around his eyes creases as he deadpans at you.

“You passed out – I didn’t. Don’t blame me because you decided to take a nap, Big Guy.”

“So, you’re just full of nicknames now, are you?”

“Hm,” You smirk, voice low and teasing, “Perhaps…Raccoon Eyes.”

Keegan scoffs, turning his head away in exasperation. You were both the same people from hours ago, but something felt different – the air was lighter, bordering on sacred. Looking at each other with hesitant vulnerability, hearts yearning but not quite certain where to begin. So many jagged pieces of glass to buffer out, smooth along the edges, and pray that they became mosaics of brightly colored perfection that glittered in the sunlight. But you could still slice your fingers open, despite the years of practice and knowledge of that sacred art, feel the blood splatter the table and leak into the fine lines of your palm.

But, perhaps, it was time to try.

“I guess I owe you one,” You admit awkwardly, suddenly avoiding eye contact and feeling sheepish. This was new to you, “You saved me from a sniper but I couldn’t see the one behind you.”

“You owe me twice, then,” When you send him a scalding look, he puffs out a breath to show it was a joke and continues as you roll your eyes and smile softly, “..but, uh,” Keegan clears his throat, “Don’t…worry about it, Kid,” Your eyes snap to his side profile, blinking in shock as his eyes rove the room, watching the cracks in the floors as you gape at him. Why…why did he sound like that? Like the gravel in his words had smoothed over and was suddenly a paved road with moss along the edges; gentle to the touch. And why did your heart skip a beat at it, “Forget about it.”

“...What?” Your voice is small, genuine confusion whispered out as you watch the muscles in his face move. Keegan’s jaw was clenched, his nose scrunching as he rolled it and fixed his stance. It was adorable the way he was trying not to face you.

His head turns to his gear that Merrick had placed on the large table across the room. You watch him lightly limp to it, mind still trying to think through what was going on. His shredded hand goes to the back pocket of his folded cargo pants, and your ears twitch at a crinkling nose. The Ghost pulls out an empty chocolate wrapper and you feel your heart stop all together when he holds it aloft. He shuffles back over.

“It was alright, little stale, but not bad,” Those steel blue eyes slide to yours, and your face heats; throat tightens. Since when has your pulse rampaged like that outside of a gun battle? Keegan’s lips quirk into a slow smirk at your expression, “Not bad at all. I’m sorry that I ate it all.”

You have to look away before you pass out, all confidence now gone and dignity stomped on when you realized that you liked when he looked at you with those eyes of his. Your hand clenches over the covers, finding that double meaning with brimming affection.

Oh, you just hated him…but your breath still gets stolen all the same.

“Yeah, well,” Your hand goes to scratch at the back of your neck to ground yourself, “Don’t get used to it, Kee. That bar was worth like fifty bucks if we’d have just sold it.”

You decide his laugh is better than any old chocolate bar, and that you wanted to taste it on your tongue until the very sun died out. Until your bones were bleach white from age.

There was no doubt he remembered what he had told you as you dragged him along, scared and wishing he would stay awake; that was simply judging by the sparkle in his pupil and the way he was facing you now.

Smirking, you raise a brow and grab the man by the collar of his gown.

Ah, what the hell. Better to start strong.

When you smash his lips to yours, you decide right then and there when Keegan melts into you, his hand going to grip the back of his head, that maybe being enemies wasn’t so bad at all.

#keegan p russ #keegan russ #call of duty keegan #cod fandom #cod fanfic #cod #cod ghosts #cod keegan #keegan x reader #keegan russ x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #x female reader #female reader

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uselesssomebody · 11 months

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Hi! I saw your post asking abt Miguel fanfics, and id love to read a fanfic abt spider-man 2099! Could you write a fanfic (can be as much fluff, angst, or smut as you want) where F!reader is SpiderWoman, and goes to catch an anomaly with Miguel; her partner that’s slowly becoming fond of reader, yet doesn’t want to admit it. During their mission, reader gets hurt and Miguel confesses while treating her wounds, thinking she’s unconscious and he’s scared to lose her- even to see her hurt. If not that’s totally fine Ill read anything you publish!

𝕞𝕚 𝕔𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕠 - miguel o'hara x spider!reader

complete masterlist | miguel o'hara masterlist

words || 𝟛.𝟜𝕜

summary || in which miguel makes a confession when he thinks reader can't hear him

a/n || grumpy x sunshine trope but plot twist, he's a total simp (reader is too tbf)

➵ thanks for the request anon! very cute love this trope a lot, and hope you enjoy. also your last sentence is literally such a massive compliment for me you're so sweet i love you <3

➵ my tiktok is disrespectfully feral (like him) about this man what the fuck

➵ a bit of spanish in this one, all thanks to a lovely user on here! for non-spanish speakers, translations are below the warnings.

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smidge of angst

translations

➵ mierda - shit

➵ mi cielo, por favor no puedo perderte - my darling, please, i can't lose you

➵ también eres mi cielo - you're also my darling

miguel o'hara was a man of few words.

miles could attest to it, alongside gwen, pav, hobie, and peter b.

the lot of them liked - nay, loved - to talk, so his stark silence always seemed out of place, and his long pauses in between words owed to a lot of shifty stares between the group, or awkward silences. thus, the only person who really got along with him was mayday, who could happily spend every moment of her day babbling nonsensically at him as he desperately tried to keep her from crawling all over him.

that was one of the few things he was very bad at.

so, it was a complete shock to gwen when she could hear animated talking from miguel's... uh - lair? platform? she wasn't sure what exactly it was yet. in her intrigue, she grabs miles - the poor guy trying to grab a bagel from the cafeteria - and tells him to follow her. his brows also furrow at the noises, and they decide to wait a moment before alerting miguel to their presence.

"that's ridiculous!" his voice is loud, incredulous, and it causes the other person - a decidedly feminine voice - to ring out in a laugh.

"you're so unimaginative. think big, o'hara! sure, it's complicated, but it's the perfect plan." her tone makes it obvious there's a smile on her face, but what surprises them in that miguel sounds like he also has one on his face. gwen looks shocked. she didn't know he could smile.

they both suddenly feel a palm on their shoulders, and they yelp in surprise. pav's excitable voice greets them, asking what they were doing. miles desperately tries to get him to lower his voice, but it's too late, as the door is already sliding open.

miguel looks at the three of them, a little unimpressed, and she waves at the lot of them from behind him. the platform begins lowering at a snail's pace, and miguel waits stoically for it to reach ground level. impatient, and having already been subject to the move several times, she rolls her eyes, shooting a web out from her wrist to reach the tall ceiling and gracefully lowering down to them. miles found it very poppins-esque.

"hey guys!" she mumbles cheerfully. though pav's face is covered by his mask, she smiles at his obvious beam behind it, ruffling his hair as she comes to stand next to them, looking up to see miguel still being lowered down, "any day now," she jokes to the three teens, and miles snorts at the sarcastic comment.

"can i... help you?" miguel raises an eyebrow as his platform finally reaches ground level. he eyes the younger spiders inquisitively. miles and pav look between each other, not really sure now why they were here, and gwen speaks up.

"it's earth-587 - they had an alchemax breach, and the home spider needs help stopping the burglar." she speaks quickly, having been tasked by jessica to alert miguel of the news. she'd been steadfast in the communication, of course, until she'd been distracted by the sounds of laughter - she still couldn't believe it - that she heard.

miguel looks at her sternly.

"we're not mall cops, a burglary is hardly an issue." he drawls, still unimpressed. she stands up a bit straighter.

"the villain is some rich megalomaniac who wants to hop dimensions in order to accumulate more wealth." she deadpans, and miguel looks at her, slightly more interested.

"alright, yeah. drew told you to tell me? let her know i'll handle it." gwen nods, before turning to leave with miles and pav. as they do, so too does the woman he was talking to, waving animatedly.

"that sounds fun, o'hara. bye!" before she can take more than a few steps alongside the teens, they all hear the spongy sound of a web being shot out, and she stops in her tracks, before being dragged back. miles yelps in shock, not realizing what was happening, before coughing to give off an impression of nonchalance, making gwen chuckle behind her hand. pav laughs at the woman's decidedly deadpan expression as miguel pulls her back towards him with the web.

"not so fast. who do you think i'm sending out to catch him?" he mutters, as the teens finally step out. she rolls her eyes.

"i feel like i do all your work for you." she mumbles sarcastically. he releases her, turning around and not acknowledging the comment.

"sure you do." he responds, matching her tone with ease.

as the teens step out, pav is grinning behind his mask. miles looks at him quizzically, and gwen begins walking forward, already knowing what he's gonna say.

"so, how long are we saying?" he asks animatedly, "one month? two months?"

"what?" miles asks, honestly befuddled.

"he's guessing how long o'hara and that girl have been together," gwen answers, already knowing a lot about pav's tendency to see romance where she wouldn't or couldn't. what surprised her, though, was miles' immediately agreement.

"thank god i wasn't the only one!" he exclaims, immediately beginning to chatter away with pav in solidarity.

"alright, boss," she salutes, stepping onto his platform, "what's the plan?" for a moment, miguel doesn't respond, simply looking at her, before she snaps her fingers in front of his face, "hey! you fall asleep, o'hara?" miguel shakes his head, sighing in exasperation, as she laughs to herself. though he shows his annoyance while looking at her, as he turns to pull up the fact file of that universe, a small smile graces his lips, appreciating the sound of her laugh and the way it looks on her face.

she leans over his shoulder - or, she tries to, before seceding to his tall frame and instead peeking past his arm - as she raps her fingers in an anticipating manner over his bicep. usually, he didn't love people touching him - having to deal with an overly ecstatic peter b. on occasion - but he didn't mind anything about her, in all honesty.

realizing this, he sighs harshly, hoping she doesn't comment on it, as he scolds himself for getting distracted. he had one of, if not the most important jobs in the multiverse, and he couldn't allow himself to feel so vulnerable around - a coworker, essentially. but, goddamn, did she make him smile. she was the only one who did, he was sure. he tries to ignore it, though it becomes increasingly difficult as her pretty side profile moves past him, reading the file intently. pretty? fuck. he was gone.

she looks over at him expectantly, and he blinks, hoping his staring wasn't too noticeable, "so... he's created a gizmo." she knew it poked him when she called it that, as he now found the name a little cringy. she disagreed. she thought it was cute.

she thought he was cute.

well, maybe cute wasn't the right word - it's hard to call a 6'7" guy who's built like that cute - but somehow, he was.

when she first met him, he was damn stoic and quiet - only focused on his job. and she understood - of course, the fate of universes could lie in his decisions. she, at first, was just glad to have been allowed into this elite society, so she kept her nose in her work, not straying far from it. soon, though, as she established herself as not only highly skilled, but also highly successful in her assigned missions, she took the opportunity to be herself around the others, knowing her nonchalant and jokey attitude wouldn't be enough for her to get reprimanded anymore. more importantly than that, she started seeing miguel a lot more, as he went from her boss - some guy a huge distance from her - to someone much more equal to her.

that led to the relationship - uh, working relationship, anything else she simply wished for - that they had: handling the big bads of the multiverse together. as partners. she was ecstatic at the idea, happy that her skill was being appreciated, and excited to know her work would be more valuable.

but then she met him. the - well, more - real him.

she was shocked to learn the man could laugh, the first time he let her signature spiderman humor - that she technically shared with most other versions of her - penetrate his cold and determined exterior. it wasn't exactly a laugh - more of a chuckle/snort - but it was more than enough for her to double take, and then smile.

as they set out on more missions together, she obviously appreciated his determination, strength and wit, but she really enjoyed those moments of softness, or when he'd react to her sarcastic humor.

and, of course, that time he had to hold her on their way back from that mission where she twisted her ankle was painful but very - uh, memorable.

she snaps out of her thoughts as he enlarges the information about both the villain's suit and universe-travelling machine.

"something like that," he starts, examining it further, before turning to the information about his suit, "his suit is built to withstand and reduce the effects of multiversal travel, and his defense and weapons seem to be modified military gear. so bullets and vests that just handle or deliver more damage." he mutters, and she nods.

"so - nothing too crazy." her confidence makes him smile, and he nods.

"yeah, sure." he looks over the information again, before shrugging, "a attack from the front and the back should be enough - front distracts while back webs. right?" he decides, nonchalantly. she grimaces.

"don't talk to me about your back webs," she jokes causing him to roll his eyes.

"understood?" he reiterates. she nods, saluting.

"yes, sir. should be home for dinner - heard they're serving empanadas!"

they were not back in time for dinner, much less in time for empanadas.

she'd decided it'd be easier for her to bait out the villain, knowing that most wouldn't take so kindly - nor give a moment of hesitation - to someone of miguel's build and stature. and it'd been fine, until miguel's overconfidence had led to only one of his hands being properly webbed up, allowing him to reach for his modified gun with its modified bullets. he had pointed it as miguel had his back turned, smiling down at her as he called over 587's spiderman to pick him up. she'd noticed before he could, pushing him out of the way before he could react. usually, she wouldn't be able to, but his shock left his position malleable, and his eyes widened - time slowing - as he could see the bullet puncture the side of her stomach.

he shouts out her name, reflexes working to catch her before she fell, and the sharp cry of pain she let out caused his heart to drop. he was pretty sure he had growled, shooting a web precisely at the villain's arm, and wrenching the gun from his grasp, only a hair away from doing something he'd regret. when a small "wait-" tumbles between her labored gasps, he places his anger to the side, immediately letting her squeeze his hand to power through the agony. he looks at her in confusion, wondering how the hell a bullet was causing her so much pain - especially with her spider-healing - but then remembered the modifications listed in the file - including increased damage. he breathes raggedly, completely unsure of what to do, as spider-587 swings past him, a little too excited for his liking.

before he can snap at the kid - he sounded like a college student, honestly - 587 notices her weakened health, coming to kneel beside the both of them. seeing the situation, he swallows harshly.

"uh - take her back to my place while i bring this guy in." he quickly mutters his address, and miguel nods gratefully, immediately picking her up, desperate to ensure that she can get patched up. he swings through the familiar-but-not streets of manhattan, clutching her tightly to him, as she does the same, worried about falling, but confident he wouldn't let her. his heart-rate quickens as he feels her tight hold on him weaken, a sign of her diminishing strength.

the window of the small apartment kitchen is open, and miguel slips inside, less careful than usual to be quiet, focused wholeheartedly on getting her situated. he slips into the bathroom, setting her down on the cold, tiled floor. she winces at the uncomfortable angle he has to have her in as she slumps against the wall, trying to take quick, deep breaths, but wincing whenever her chest rose. miguel desperately searched through the small bathroom's tiny cupboards, finding a first-aid kit. her eyes blink up at the stark green of the casing, a sigh of relief ghosting past her lips.

"you're okay - you're alright, just relax, okay?" he mumbles, tone uncharacteristically emotive. she hums a response, and the breath of her shaky exhale falls over his face as he bends down to examine the wound.

it's not great. far from it, in fact, as he can hardly see the bullet, wedged deep in her bleeding flesh. he lets out a ragged gasp, before forcing his mouth shut when he hears her whimper.

"is - is it bad?" she breathes out into the small space between them. he's not sure what to say. it objectively is, but he doesn't want her more upset in her current situation.

"i'll fix it," is the response he settles on, as he gets to work. in this job, he'd seen quite a few injuries - though not many were like this, and none that had happened to her. he works meticulously to extract the bullet and care for the wound, hyper-aware of how close they were. he could feel her soft breaths on the top of his head, her fingers would curl over his thigh as she tried to firm the uncomfortable sensations, and her chest would brush against his temple when she squirmed at the painful procedure. he tried to keep his mind focused, though it felt inclined to panic every time he heard her whimpers or gasps at a sting or ache.

what really made him panic, though, was when he stopped hearing them. having heard nothing but even breaths for the past minute or two, he looks up in confusion and sees her eyes closed, shoulders completely slumped.

"hey? you there?" he asks softly, waving a hand in front of her face, before decidedly getting more upset, his face scrunching in worry as he gently taps her face, careful not to move it too much, "hello? are you - mierda, mierda..." he trails off, voice becoming shaky. he looks over her face and, seeing the peace of it, he feels a strange mix of relief, that she seemed less in pain, and fear - as he'd seen that peace on many a dead man as well.

working more delicately, he continues the process, his eyes unable to leave her for more than a few seconds. he was trying to convince himself it was just to make sure she was still alright, but the more base part of him kept reminding him of just how much he cared about her, and how he truly hated the morbid thoughts that were encroaching his stressed mind.

"please, please don't give up on me," he mumbles, letting himself talk to keep sane, even though he knew she couldn't hear him, "fuck, stay strong for me. you're so strong, y'know that? and you're smart, and so skilled. i - i do really like working with you. even though - y'know, i'm kind of an asshole around you sometimes. you should see me around the others, though, that's just me. damn, that is just me," it'd transitioned to a ramble, "why - fuck, why do you even work with me? i'm so different from you, and you must feel weird in my company, but you're nice, and you always make me laugh - fuck. i do really like you. not just working with you. you - you mean so much more to me than you think and - well, i wish i could tell you that more often, dammit. i'm just..." he sighs deeply, his fingers brushing over her newly furrowed brows. he's worried that he'd hurt her, and he stops for a moment to let her unconscious self recover, before dropping his voice to a whisper, "i can't lose you, mi cielo, por favor no puedo perderte. i - i really need you to stay strong - stay alive for me." he looks at her relaxing brows, and turns away, beginning to work, as he curses himself internally for being stupid enough to not have said anything until the poor woman literally couldn't hear him.

except, she could. she was incredibly weak - too weak to move, or hold any tension in her muscles, or even open her eyes, but she was just slumped down - not unconscious. she had felt horrible when she couldn't open her mouth to tell him she was fine - well, at least, better than he thought she was - after she'd heard his worry, but she'd become truly upset she couldn't move when she heard his rushed and mumbled confession.

she wanted to reach up and tuck back that bit of hair that always fell over his face when he was working or stressed, and let her hands travel down behind his neck before she'd pull him in for a kiss, like she'd wanted to do for so long. she was over the moon at his words, her lips just barely parting in an effort to say something, but nothing came out. as she could hear him shift away, finally finished, she did fall asleep, still on the brink of returning his feelings.

it'd taken a night of sleep, but after the bullet had been taken out, her body had begun naturally healing, and by morning, she was nearly good to go. she still winced if she turned around too quickly, and miguel was absolutely insistent on half-carrying her to the on-deck infirmary at the spider society. it had led to a few confused glances in their direction, and hobie's admitted annoyance at seeing them together, so close. hobie didn't love miguel - as was known by most - but he found her much more interesting, and seeing that the both were definitely together - as confirmed by pav and miles' exclamations of the fact - he had resigned himself to a signature curl of his lips, before - after only a few short minutes - finding something else around him to critique.

as miguel set her down, she looked up at him expectantly, searching for that softness from yesterday. it didn't come in the form of his soft words, but rather in the look in his eyes, and the wordless moment he spent squeezing her hand, before mentioning something about having to go back to work, eyes averted from hers. she knew he must have felt awkward looking at her, not realizing she knew what he'd said, so she doesn't mind.

when she's discharged, she makes her way to his office, a box of empanadas from the cafeteria - saved, per her request - in her hand, and knocked on his door. he lets her in, lowering his platform in a heartbeat. she realizes it's going faster than usual, and laughs to herself, realizing he truly did do that slow drop for dramatic effect. he tries to refuse the food, suggesting she eat them and rebuild her strength, but she brushes him off.

"where would i be if you weren't playing doctor, miguel?" his eyes widen at her use of his first name - decidedly uncommon in their interactions.

"is - are you okay? didn't hurt you too bad, did i?" he mumbles softly, looking at her with a worried gaze. she shakes her head, smiling.

"not at all. i did want to mention something to you, though." he looks at her, inquisitive.

"yeah?"

"también eres mi cielo."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara oneshot #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #mi cielo #oscar isaac

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deathbecomesthem · 3 months

Text

Roomies 7

Final Chapter | ~4.2K

A/N: This story has come to an end. I hope you all enjoy it.

Warnings: Lots of feelings, smut, a bit of talk of vomit. I wrote this, and I'm publishing it. As with the rest of this story, I chose not to spend a lot of time dwelling on the details.

---

You don’t think about Eddie. No, you don’t do that. You don’t think about what he thinks when he reads the note you left for him. You don’t think about the anger, the sadness, the confusion he must be feeling. You don’t know what he’s feeling. How could you, when you’ve hidden yourself from Eddie’s feelings since you became his unexpected roommate.

You’re a selfish person. You can admit that now that you’re not face to face with him, not listening to his sleepy snores through the too thin walls of your shared apartment. Not pressing your nose into the throw pillow on the couch trying to catch the ghost of his scent when he’s not home. Sitting on the couch in your sister’s townhouse across town from your own apartment, you feel it happening. You’re putting distance between you and Eddie. Brick by brick, you are expanding the road that sits between the two of you, and soon you’ll not even be able to cross it. Too much space. That’s fine, you’ve decided, because the only way out of this is with that distance, and maybe in the end you’ll find a way to salvage what might be left of the friendship that will always connect you.

“Oh, is that what we’re doing again today?” Jamie is making her way from her kitchen through the living room. It’s Friday, she has work this morning.

“Doing what?” You ask her, running your hand down your face and bracing yourself for impact. You can already feel the welcome has worn thin, and it’s only been 2 days since you showed up with an overnight bag asking for sanctuary.

“Moping. Sitting in your sweatpants and moping.” Jamie looks at you with her typical disapproving older sister expression. “Nobody died, you know. You’re being so dramatic. Just go talk to Eddie.”

“I can’t talk to him right now. It might ruin everything. I can’t lose him as a friend.” You tell her. This is the same thing you’ve been telling her since you walked through her front door. Instead of the sympathetic look she gave you on that first night, this time she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, because everything seems so great right now. I hate to have to be the one to tell you this,” you know she does not in fact hate to be the one to tell you whatever it is she’s going to say next, “but the damage is done. You can’t rewind the clock. Take a shower, get your shit together, and get the fuck outta my house. I love you.”

Jamie strides back over to you and gives you a kiss on the forehead before turning and sprinting back towards her front door. With a bang of the door, she’s gone. You know she’s right, and the time away from Eddie has done nothing but make you more miserable than ever. You take the shower. You pack your bag. You put on jeans and your favorite sweater of Jamie’s, a small revenge that will take her months to realize. You go home to face whatever is left of your friendship with Eddie, and pray to the gods devils that he will accept what you’ve decided.

Friday. You promised him you’d be home. Time to face the music. Time to tell him that you’re sorry, and that you’re moving out.

—

Eddie’s been fine. After that first night, when he went down to the bar and drank until he puked in the sink of the men’s room, he had an epiphany. It was simple really. While the whiskey rose in his throat, the lightbulb went off. He wasn’t the first person to come to big decisions in that bathroom, he was just the most recent. Only two months prior, Lenny Hendricks had done a line of the sick that is now covered in Jack Daniel’s scented bile, and decided he was going to go to medical school. Maybe it’s something about the poetry scratched on the walls. As Eddie cleans his mess, he sees a fresh scrawl next to the mirror - Just start the set on time. She’s not coming.

Eddie had walked out of the bar that evening with a sense of purpose, regardless of the sour smell of his favorite Metallica tee. He walked up the steps to his apartment and went to bed knowing that it was all going to be ok. Everything would be right soon enough, because it had to be. How could it not be? He’s been so stupid. No more, though.

—

It’s heavy and weighing you down as you look up the stairwell to the dimly lit hallway. Someone, probably Eddie but you don’t know for sure, replaced the light with a red bulb sometime before you moved in. It suits your mood right now, the uneasy red tinted shadows trailing behind you as you ascend the stairs, the dread in your guts making your movements slower than normal.

You stand at the door and look at it. Do you knock? Do you use your key? Do you turn tail and go back the way you came, and check into the Super 8 Motel down the road until you can find your own shitty studio apartment that doesn’t make you wonder who you are and what the fuck you’re doing every time you step foot through the door? You try the knob and find it turns easily under your grip. So, you sigh and walk in.

Eddie is in the kitchen, back to the door. He’s wearing your apron, hands deep in a sinkful of soapy water. He looks back and smiles easily when he sees you with your duffel bag still hanging off your shoulder. This is not the way this scene played out in your head. The counters are clean, bottles of beer and cans of soda all sitting in the plastic bin underneath the side table next to the refrigerator. Is that -

“- did you bake bread?” you question, dropping your bag and heading to the rack sitting on the counter with a round loaf sitting prettily.

“Uh huh,” Eddie’s wiping his hands on a floral dish towel he has hanging from where the apron strings are tied together around his waist. “Smells good, don’t it?”

“Did you clean?” Another question that doesn’t need an answer, the proof is in front of your eyes.

“Don’t act so surprised. Who do you think took care of this place before you moved in? Gareth?” Eddie shudders at the thought.

You nod, not in understanding, because you don’t, but you nod because you accept what your eyes are seeing. Eddie’s fine. The place is fine. He didn’t burn it to the ground when you walked out of the door. You didn’t find him curled up in a ball on his bed. He didn’t punch a hole through the cupboard next to the sink when he found your note.

Eddie’s fine. So you nod, and make your way down the hallway to your bedroom, leaving Eddie in the kitchen. Your room, at least, is exactly how you left it. Bed unmade and drawers left open. A testament to the speed run you made out of this place. You shake your head, how stupid you’ve been. Eddie’s fine. This is all in your head, and there’s nothing else to it.

You startle at the quiet rapping of knuckles on your door. From the other side, Eddie says, “I made Wayne’s famous chili earlier. Want that for dinner, or wanna go out and get something?”

Wayne’s chili is your favorite. It’s the grape jelly he adds to it. You asked him so many times over the years for the recipe, but he wouldn’t budge. He won a cook off the year after you and Eddie graduated from high school, and that was when you discovered the secret. He didn’t know you were standing in the doorway of the kitchen trailer that morning, watching him take a jar of Welch’s grape jelly from the cupboard and unceremoniously dump it into the crock pot he had set up in the corner. He let the meat and jelly cook down before he added a couple of handfuls of diced jalapenos and a mixture of dried herbs.

“You got any Jiffy?” You asked him, leaning your head on the wall next to the door imagining it’s Eddie’s shoulder. You brush the door with the tips of your fingers and wait for his answer.

“Of course. Who do you think you’re talkin’ to?”

You’re talking to Eddie, and he would never forget the cornbread.

—

You re-enter the kitchen to find the table already set, cornbread still steaming in the cast iron pan on the stovetop. The crock pot full of chili, a twin to Wayne’s own crock pot, sits in the center of the small table. Cheese, sour cream, and Cholula are laid out along with the bowls and spoons.

“Wow, Munson. You know how to make a girl feel special.” You head over to the cornbread intending to pinch a taste of it, but Eddie slaps your hand away. “Ow. I take it back, you’re a tyrant.”

“Sit down, please. I’ll get your cornbread, don’t fuck with it.” Eddie has a potholder and takes the hot skillet over to join the rest of the food on the table. “Let’s eat, Baby.”

Baby, baby, baby, baby. The word plays over and over in your head while you float to the table. Baby.

Eddie puts a piece of cornbread in your bowl, and ladles chili on top of it. The way you like it. Baby. You watch his face, and he gives you an easy smile. Another one, like the smile he gave you when you walked in the front door. You suddenly feel like the ground is not as firm as you imagined it. Baby.

“How’s Jamie? She still got that stick firmly up her ass?” Eddie asks as he sits down across from you. You laugh, snorting a bit of chili upwards into your sinuses. You cough and take a drink of the lemonade he has set next to your bowl.

“She’s same as always. She practically threw me out this morning. She sends her love.” You reach for the hot sauce and splash some into your bowl. It’s good, but you think it lacks the heat of Wayne’s normal recipe.

“I’m happy you came home to me.” Eddie’s words come out easily, and you’re left yet again feeling like the floors are tilting a little.

You say nothing, just look at him with your spoon held in front of your face. Frozen, a deer in the headlights that are Eddie’s chocolatey eyes sparkling at you. You’re starting to wonder if you missed a very important conversation somewhere along the way.

“You know, I realized something important when you left. That first night was… not great, but I think it was a good thing. We’ve been dancing around each other for a while now, and having you not in the apartment got me thinking about a lot of things.” Eddie’s talking, seemingly unaffected by your stunned silence. He just keeps on going, looking at you straight in the eyes with that small smile on his face.

“I was thinking about how much it hurt to think of you not being in this apartment with me. Which is crazy, right? It’s not like you moved in here with some kind of long term plan to stay. We both knew it was the right thing for right now. So, why was I crying when I found your note?” Eddie takes a big bite of chili and looks to you in anticipation. He wants an answer, you realize.

“I don’t know, Ed. Why were you crying?” You ask him and place your spoon back into the bowl. Your hand moves instinctively to stroke the back of the hand he has resting on the table. “I’m sorry.”

“Because, Baby, I’m in love with you.” Eddie’s voice is firm. His words are spoken honestly, leaving no room for you to doubt them. You want to run, to stand up and bolt for the door. Eddie’s eyes hold you in your seat. Even as the floor beneath you feels ready to open up and swallow you whole, his gaze is steady.

“Eddie,” his name is a whisper, the breath from your lungs. You had thought that night with sighs of pleasure bleeding through the wall that separated the two of you was the point of no return. You were wrong. That point is right here in front of you. It’s sitting between you, Eddie, and the chili pot in your shared apartment. “What if it goes wrong?”

“What if I get hit by a car tomorrow? What if a tornado runs through town and takes me away? What if the sun explodes and burns us all up?” At some point, Eddie turned his hand over to hold your own. “I know you, and you know me. I’m telling you right now, I am in love with you. I want you to stay here, and I want you to bring your shit into my bedroom and make it ours. And if you tell me you don’t want that, ok. Fine. But the damage is already done, Baby. I can’t go back to not feeling like this, and I’m done lying to myself about it. You do what you gotta do, but don’t tell me you’re not feeling something. I know you.”

Eddie gets up without any preamble and begins to fill the sink with sudsy water, leaving you sitting stunned at the table with a bowl of chili that is now room temperature. You push it away from you and begin picking at the edge of the cornbread that’s left in the pan still at the table. And then you hear Eddie whistling quietly while he cleans up. A new feeling begins to creep inside of you, a familiar feeling. You’re annoyed with him.

“So, you think you can just decide that this is how it is, huh? That I’ll come home, you’ll pour your heart out, and I’ll do the same. And - what? Happily ever after, until you decide you’re bored with me? Because I fucking know you too, Eddie Munson.” Annoyance built to anger with every word that you spoke. You stood, grabbing your bowl of cold chili and head over to scrape it out into the garbage. Eddie’s whistling stopped.

You drop the bowl into the water, pushing Eddie out of the way of the sink with your shoulder. You turn to head back to the table to start putting away all the dinner fix ins, but stop dead in your tracks when a wide palm grabs your forearm. He pulls you close so that you have to look up to see him. He places both hands on your face, moving hair that’s fallen over your eyes so he can see you better.

“You don’t understand, so let me be very fucking clear,” his words are a whisper, his warm breath fanning over your face, “I have been in love with you for a very long time, Baby. I just didn’t know that’s what it was. But I know now, and this is it. I can’t make you believe me, and I can’t make you love me back. I just need you to understand, this is not just a fleeting thing.”

You reach up and push the curls away from his face to see him better. Bare faces staring at each other, the truth of this thing holding you in your places. You bring your hand to the back of his neck and tangle your fingers into his hair. You form a fist and squeeze tight. His mouth opens at the feeling, and you stare at him.

“When? When did you start loving me, Munson?” You hold his hair a little tighter. His eyes open again, pupils blown out by your touch and your words.

“Remember that summer when you bought that red bikini?” He asks. You see his cheeks are turning red, and with this close proximity of bodies, you can feel a bulge growing in his pants. You stand up higher on the balls of your feet.

“You’re a pervert, Eddie.” There’s no bite in your words. You turn your face just as he leans down to bring his mouth closer to yours and whisper in his ear, “I bought that bikini because I wanted you to notice me. The way you noticed those girls with the mini skirts and bad perms that hung out at the bar when you played your shows.”

You kiss the skin of his neck and are rewarded with a whimper from Eddie. His hands are gripping your waist, hard enough to leave a mark. You kiss his jaw and move down his neck stopping along the way to press your nose against his skin and breathe him in. You can feel him swallow against your lips. He loves me. You think that maybe you can try to believe it.

“Look at me.” His words vibrate against your nose as it runs along his adam’s apple. You look at him, desperately wanting the kiss you know he’s going to give you. Aching for it. He tells you, “I am so in love with you.”

Eddie tastes like chili, lemonade, and cornbread. Not at all unpleasant to your senses. Kissing Eddie is unlike kissing anyone else. The secret place inside of you that’s been hidden for so long has his light shining on it. His tongue dances against your lips, and you meet it with your own. A slow waltz, mouths moving together, noses brushing noses. Your faces are pressing together, trying to absorb as much of this moment as you can before you have to break apart. And then it’s heavy breathing, his sweaty fringe against your forehead.

“Fuck, do you feel that?” You don’t answer his question with words, but with your hands reaching under his shirt to feel his skin under your fingertips. “Baby, please.”

“Eddie,” his ears perk up like a dog’s at the sound of his name. The way it comes out like a whine. It’s that needy way you said his name on that movie night, and it grips him somewhere deep in his belly.

Eddie drops to his knees on the kitchen floor, head resting against the fly of your jeans. He’s nuzzling you, in an animal way, fingers gripped at the waist of your pants. He can smell you through denim and cotton. It’s not enough. He makes quick work of unbuttoning and unzipping, of peeling back the skin of the fruit his mouth is watering to taste. Your bare ass is pushed against the counter before you realize your pants have been completely removed, and he hooks a leg over his shoulder.

Eddie’s bulbous nose is fully breathing in your scent from the damp cotton of your panties. His nose is brushing against that hard button, and he’s smelling the way the blood is rushing to it. A coppery musk just for him. His finger pushes the cotton to the side so he can finally taste and feel you against him, and his whining mouth sends a rumble of pleasure through you. It’s like this, with his knees on the tile floor of your shared kitchen that he finally, finally, finds himself able to openly praise you until you’re shaking in rapture. The veneration of your body by this devotee is as genuine and beautiful as any congregant in any church the world over.

—

The food is still on the kitchen table, too far gone to save, but neither of you can care. The moonlight casts shadows around the otherwise dark room, it highlights the way your bodies move together. Joining, embracing, loving, and resting. And then it starts again. The moments your bodies are connected feel eternal, and as soon as you separate you feel an inexplicable grief. What is this, is something you have not voiced wonder in your mind.

No other man has made you weep this way. At the sight of the tears streaming down your face, Eddie’s cock buried deep inside of you, he did not wipe them away. He let his tongue taste it, running the firm tip up your cheek and under your eyelid. The feeling unravels that knot in your gut, and not for the first or second time tonight. And just like the other times, Eddie rocks himself with the wave of your orgasm, whispering into your ear, I love you, I love you, I love you.

It’s 4:30 in the morning when your bodies finally force a halt to your incessant love making, but your mind is wide awake. Eddie’s sweaty head rests on your breast, an arm lays heavy over your belly. You think he may be sleeping, but you need to quiet the thoughts that have started to invade your brain.

“Ed,” you shake his shoulder a little and he moans, “how do you know you love me?”

You feel a twinge of embarrassment at the question, but you need to hear his answer. Somehow, despite it being Eddie, you don’t know if you can trust it. What is love? It’s something you’ve learned you can’t trust. You try to not think of Drew, and fail. But it’s not just him, that most recent mistake - the list goes on and on. What is love, but a promise of future disappointment.

“I just know.” His breath fans out across your chest, and your nipple peaks at the feeling. Traitor.

“Well, did you just know every other time you loved someone? What happens if it’s like when you were with Naomi? Or Sandy?” You know it’s wrong to say these names in this sacred space, but the question needs to be answered. There’s a small spot that itches inside of you that threatens to grow. A spot, that if left to grow, will force you up and out the door. You know it, and you know Eddie knows it, too.

Eddie’s face peels from your skin so he can look to you. He runs a finger along the shadows of the lines of worry creasing your brow. It’s so tender, so loving. You feel a tear leak from your eye, unbidden.

“I don’t think I loved them,” Eddie says while his thumb rubs away the moisture on your cheek, “or maybe I did. I don’t know, I can’t remember. But, Baby, I’ve never felt this before. This is - this is it.”

“What does that mean, Eddie? This is it? Like, what, you wanna run down to the courthouse and get married? Want me to pop out a whole litter of mini-Munsons? What does ‘this is it’ mean?” Your voice is rising in frustration, but Eddie doesn’t turn away. He keeps his gaze steady on your face. He’s looking for something there.

“Baby, you don’t have to feel any particular way right now. You know that right? I’m not asking for anything. I just want you to know how I feel. I love you, and I’ve loved you for a long time. Long enough that those other girls never got the whole of me when I was with them. I’m not telling you this so you’ll make me any promises. I’m just telling you because I fucking love you, and I need you to know it.”

And that’s when you realize it, something that scares the shit out of you. Because love, that overwhelming thing that beats inside of you when you look at Eddie, does not come with a guarantee. It does not promise anything more than what can be felt between the two of you. Love is pain, because nothing lasts forever. You know it now, and it’s a relief. The wrinkles at your temple smooth out, and you run your fingers through his tangled hair. You love this man, and that’s a fact.

“Ok, I believe you. I just have one more very important question.” Eddie’s face relaxes under the touch of your fingers along the side of his pretty nose.

“Ask.” He says, kissing your palm.

You hold his face still, gazing deeply into his eyes. Black pools in the dark room that threaten to swallow you up. “Eddie, would you still love me if I was a worm?”

The tension in the moment is gone, and Eddie giggles like the boy you knew years ago. He pulls you down and kisses you hard on the mouth, pressing his body into yours. Warm, sticky flesh vibrating with bubbling laughter.

“If you were a worm? I’d set up a little enclosure for you,” he points to a spot under the window where the moon hangs low in the sky, “just there. I’d get you some really tasty dirt, and I’d write songs about the worm that is the love of my life.”

Your smile is a beacon in the night, Eddie can see you glowing. You kiss his forehead and tell him, “I love you, Eddie Munson.”

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #asks #eddie munson angst #roomies

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glassartpeasants · 11 days

Text

Run Rabbit Run .10

Yandere!Eustass Kid x F!Reader

Warnings: Death, blood mentions, physical abuse, violence, implied non-con, slight non-con, not edited for shit cause it took too long to type in general

A/N: This part is all in the eyes of Kidd so enjoy. I'm so happy for this shit to be finally published cause it took me too fucking long to do. Also working on new writing styles cause i need to be a perfectionist

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10

~~~

“Look at them run! This is gonna be a fun island to ransack.”

“We should find the mayor and ask him where he keeps the town's treasury.”

“Good thinking, Killer.”

Even with the conversation so short, it spoke volumes as the Victoria Punk docks on the island. The beautiful blue skies shone down on the new and upcoming worst-generation supernova. With only a few months under his belt, his name was still feared throughout the south blue. His bounty getting higher and higher with every new poster.

He has yet to lose to any marine or pirate ship. Every battle he wins only makes him all the more feared, and his crew is just as terrifying as himself. Being known for his bloodthirsty ways, people would usually give him their prized possessions just to make sure they stayed clear of his wraith. But even then, sometimes, it wasn’t enough.

“This island is smaller than I thought, but it’s still mostly populated. More people, more treasure.”

“I haven’t seen any marines since we’ve docked, no boats or anything. Do you think this island isn’t under the eye of the world government?”

“Don’t matter to me. If marines try to stop me, I’ll just crush them.” The sinister chuckle that left the man’s lips made even the strongest marine tremble. Now, with a rushing set of footsteps coming towards him, Kidd continues to smirk.

A man about his own age was running full speed at him. A look of rage crossed his features as he clutched a knife tightly in his hands. Compared to himself, the man was nothing more than a twig. No muscle or anything to back him up with the fight he was looking for.

“Oh, this outta be fun.”

“Damn pirates! Leave our island alone!” The man lifts his arm to strike the notorious captain, only to be stopped by a suffocating grip. Without a second thought, Kidd’s hand gripped the scrawny man’s neck as he lifted him up. The man drops the knife to try and pry off the hand, squeezing his throat.

“How pathetic! A string bean like you thinks he can tell me what to do?” Kidd squeezes the man's throat harder and lifts him so they're eye to eye.

“News flash, I don’t like when people tell me what to do. I’ll show you what happens to people who do.” Clawing at Kidd’s hand, the man begins to see black in his vision as he starts to gasp.

“Please let my son go! He’s the only family I have!” An old man shows up hobbling fast towards Kidd and his crew. A cane in his left hand as he struggles to stay up.

“I don’t feel like it. Little fucker thinks he can try to attack me. Yet he didn’t even land a hit like the pathetic little thing he is.” Kidd laughs at the old man’s worried expression.

“I’ll do anything! Just please let my son go!” The old man gets on his hands and knees, begging the ruthless pirate for mercy.

“Bring me your mayor, and I’ll think about it.”

“I am the mayor! I promise, Captain Kidd, as I have the key to City Hall and everything!” The old man pulls out a key from his pants and lifts it towards Kidd.

“Well, would you look at that? How convenient. I didn’t even have to waste time searching.” Using his devil fruit powers, Kidd gravitates the key to his open hand. Looking at the key in his hand, he looks to his friend.

“What ya think, Killer? Should I let the small fry go?”

“Might as well. We have the mayor right here.”

“Looks like it’s your lucky day. Now scram before I change my mind.” The man is dropped with a thud. Holding his throat, he coughs harshly, with tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. Air finally returns to his lungs.

“Run home, son. Everything will be fine! Just go home.”

“But father-”

“Go home!” Despite his pleas, the scrawny man follows his father's orders. His throat bruised as he struggles to walk. His head spinning as the lack of oxygen has taken its toll. A crippling fear plagues the son as he walks home with unstable legs. The safety of his father was all he could think about.

“Now that that little nuisance is out of the way, we can finally get what we came here for.” Turning his attention to the old man, Kidd looks down at him.

“You either give us all the treasure this town has in its treasury, or I go back and break your son's scrawny little neck.” The mayor looks in horror at the man before him.

“I can’t! We’ve been saving it to build a marine base on the island! It’s taken us years to save up that money!” Kidd only laughs in the old man’s face.

“Too bad, old man! Now, you either give us all the treasure this shit town has to offer, or you’ll see its ashes fall from the sky!”

“But! The people need that for-” Not letting the old man finish, Kidd kicked him backwards. His fragile body hits the ground and is knocked out cold.

“Wrong answer, old fool! Burn it down and take everything! Leave no stone unturned!” Kidd watched his crew scatter before starting to break into businesses, houses, and other structures. Glass shattering, and the newfound screams sounded like music to his ears.

“Heat!” Calling out to his crew, he watches the bluenette approach him.

“Yeah Captain?”

“I want you to go kill that brat while burning down buildings.”

“Sounds good.”

Turning around laughing, Kidd’s amber eyes catch the glance of a woman hiding behind a building. Her face full of fear as she shook in her place. From where she stood, Kidd could see the way the light shone down on her. It gave her an almost angelic glow. For some reason, it ignited something inside him. Something that told him to ruin her. To rip off that halo and wings while he fucked her down to the second circle of hell. The image made him laugh as he began to move in her direction. Himmoving in the woman’s direction caused her to finally flee.

“Cat and mouse, aye?” Kidd snickers as he beckons the woman back; any metal she was wearing would drag her right back to him. He watches her stop in her tracks before being pulled back to him at full speed. Her shrieks of terror cause him to lick his lips.

The woman’s back collided with Kidd’s chest as he grabbed her wirst in an iron grip.

“Where do you think you're going?” The woman looked up at him, and he smiled at her. He watched her tremble in place.

“Y-Your Eustass Kidd…”

“Damn right. What? You afraid?” The way she uttered his name made the fire inside him only burn brighter. A delicate little thing like her screaming out his name as he left bruises on her skin had his mind running with wild thoughts.

“Please! Just let me go! I’ll give you all the money I have. Just please let me go!” He watched in amusement as the woman tried to twist and turn out of his grip. The hope dying in her eyes felt like an addictive drug. While taking in the woman's fear, he noticed a ring adorning her finger and a metal circle on your left wrist.

“Now, why would I let something I caught fair and square go?” Finally pulling her left arm closer to his view, he finds that the circle of metal adorning her wrist was, in fact, supposed to be a bracelet. A very shitty stainless steel bracelet that he could have easily made with his eyes closed.

“Your shitty stainless steel bracelet betrayed you, princess.” The nickname fell off his tongue so smoothly that it was almost like honey. He could feel his heart quicken at the little nickname that he decided there and then.

“My fiance worked hard to make it for me!”

“Don’t make me laugh! This is the shittest piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen!” How horribly it was made felt like an insult to him. He swore a baby could make one better. Using his power, Kidd manages to contort the ugly bracelet off the woman's wrist. He brought it closer to his face just to look at it once more, and that’s when he saw the flaw in the metal. He sees the woman reach for it but simply lifts it up out of her reach to inspect it more.

“Give it back!”

“It’s ain’t even pure stainless steel. Pathetic. Not even detailed, just a circle of metal." Using his devil fruit, he crushes the bracelet into the form of a ball. Small enough to be a bullet.

“Repel.” A laugh escapes him as he watches the small ball shoot into a store window. It shatters the entire thing and breaks something inside. Now, turning back to the woman, he smirks.

“Now, c’mon. You’re coming with me.” The woman's nails dig into Kidd’s hand. Her desperate attempt at freedom only made his lust for her grow.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, princess. I’m not a very patient person.” The woman's mouth opens to say something, but a loud voice pulls his attention away.

“(Y/N)! Get your hands off of her, you filithy pirate!” So that was your name? It felt fitting for a little thing like yourself. A lovely little princess like you with such an angelic name.

Looking at the person in front of him, he sees a ring adorning their left hand. It added up to the fact that this must be your fiance. AN annoyed look plastered on Kidd’s face as he realized that what should have been a quick thing was now actually gonna be a pain in his ass. Looking the fiance up and down, Kidd knew that they stood no chance against him. A single punch could take them down, no doubt.

“Is this your pathetic fiance? Ugh, I don’t have time to deal with you. I’ve got to take this treasure I found back to the ship.”

“(Y/N)’s not going anywhere with you! Let her go pirate!” Rage filled Kidd as another small fry thinks they can tell him what to do.

“Run (....)! He’s going to kill you!” Kidd let go of your wrist for a second, only to wrap his arm around your torso. He pulled you close to his chest as he trapped your arms to your sides with his strong grip. While he’d love to turn your pathetic fiance into a bloody puddle, he just couldn’t wait to bring you back to the Victoria Punk for safekeeping.

“Killer!” Not even seconds pass before his best friend shows up next to him.

“Yeah, Kidd?”

“I need you to kill them. Little shit thinks they can tell me what I can and can’t do.” He watches his buddy look down at the horrified woman in his arms.

“Who’s she?”

“My new plaything, cutie, ain’t she?” Kidd laughs as he holds onto you tighter. Your smell was intoxicating with how close you were to him.

“No! Leave them alone!”

“Alright, let’s go.” Kidd turns around just in time so you don’t see Killer murdering your fiance. But the screams could still be heard. He looks down and sees tears slipping down your cheeks as you weep in his grasp. The pathetic fiance felt like a worthless thing to cry about, in his personal opinion. But seeing your tears had his pants growing tighter.

“What a pretty sight, don’t you think?” The look of horror on your face as you watched your town burn to the ground made Kidd feel like we were on cloud nine. He just knew that the little angel he plucked from gods hand would surely be a fuck to experience.

~~~

“Oi Kidd.”

“What is it Killer?” Watching his friend approach him, Kidd simply took a hard drink of the alcohol in his hand. His eyes scanned the bar as he watched multiple women look at him with less-than-holy intentions.

“Do you want me to go unlock that chick on the ship now? She’s been on the ship since we took her from that island a week ago? Plus, you're at the bar getting plastered and beckoning other women over.”

“Nah. Keep her there a little longer. Plus, where would she go? It’s not like she has a home to go back to. I could honestly keep her as long as I want!” Laughing, Kidd took another swing of his drink. Having a personal fleshlight aboard the ship at all times was an opportunity only a fool would pass up.

“If you say so.”

“Come get a drink, Killer! Unwind and enjoy the lack of Marines!” Chugging down the alcohol, Kidd slammed down the empty glass on the table. His eye scanned the room, and despite the multiple women that occupied the bar, none gave him that rush that you did when he first saw you. While there were women who looked at him with lust, the fear that was in your eyes made more of an impact on his sexual desires.

Sure, he’s taken women to the Victoria Punk, but they're always gone before sunrise. No woman he’s brought to bed has ever spent a full day on the ship. Until you came along. You’ve spent a full week under the deck of the Victoria with only him and Killer knowing. And it’ll stay that way if he could help it. Having a secret little place to relieve his stress and get his fill sounded perfect for when he was stuck on the seas without a bar to be seen.

A little wingless angel stuck in the dark.

~~~

Stumbling along the hallways, Kidd can’t help but chuckle as he makes his way to your room. He’s been drinking till the early before a sudden lust flooded his body. The image of you laying beneath him was too stong to ignore. He wanted to hear your cries and moans. Wanted to feel your nails dig into his skin and cause him too bleed.

When he opened the door that kept you locked away, he saw you sleeping peacefully. Your face content as you lay on the tattered blankets that used to hold prisioners. The light giving him just enough to walk towards a crate to light up a lantern. Once he closed and locked the door again, the lantern was now the only sorce of light.

He stumbled over to where your head lay before sitting down. The vibrations caused you to stir, yet you refused to awaken fully. It caused a scowl to appear on Kidd’s painted lips before he tugged on a strand of your hair. The shock of your hair being tugged made your hand go to soothe the throb that followed suit.

Rubbing your eyes, you look up.”Kidd? W-Why are you here? It’s late.” Your confusion was clear in your voice, but Kidd paid no mind.

“Mmm…gonna fuck ya. Wanna hear my princess cry out my name.” Slurring his speech, Kidd laughs as he grabs your wrist and drags you up to him. The chain attached to your ankle rattled as he had you face to face.

The fear that still swirled in your eyes got him drunker than any alcohol could ever do. Your soft skin against his rough, calloused hands felt as if he were touching something sacred.

Grabbing your chin, he pulls you in for a kiss. He could feel you try to pull away, but you were no match for his strength, and he loved that. How weak you were compared to him had his already hard cock throbbing. You were the defenseless little princess who relied on him for everything.

The kiss only got deeper as he spurred himself on in his head. He pushed his tongue past your lips and groaned when he felt your own. Your taste was sweet as he explored your mouth. No matter how many times he’s kissed you, it always felt just as electric as it did the day he first kissed you. Your lips are so soft as they smudged his lipstick with how harshly he was kissing you.

Wrapping his hands around your wrists, he slammed you down on the ground before climbing on top of your body. His lips were still locked with yours as your scent overwhelmed him. It sent a fire hot sensation in his abdomen as he started to press closer to you.

Bringing both wrists above his head, he holds them both with one hand. With his other hand now free, he runs his fingertips underneath your shirt. He feels you shiver against his touch, and it causes one to go down his own spine.

Pulling his lips away from yours, a thick strand of saliva connected his mouth to yours. Hearing you gasp and pant for breath makes him slightly grip your wrists harder as he stares down at you. Your lips were swollen from his harsh kiss and sporting the lipstick that once adorned his own lips.

“K-Kidd, you're drunk. Perhaps you should just sleep. You don’t want a hangover, do you?” The nervousness and pleas that slipped past your lips went unheard by him. All he could see was his princess lying under him. Even though you tried to squirm and wiggle away, all Kidd felt was you rubbing against him.

“Fuck.” Kidd whispers under his breath as he begins to rub his clothed cock against you. His face is right above yours as he feels your breath fanning against his face. Through his lidded eyes, Kidd can see your eyes are closed, and you're biting your bottom lip.

Moving both your wrists to one hand, Kidd uses his free one to grab your chin. “Fucking look at me. I want you to look at me while I fuck you.” Kidd can feel his heart double in speed when he’s met with your eyes staring at him intensely yet glassy.

Kidd groans out before licking his lips. Letting go of your chin, Kidd reaches down to unbuckle his pants. His eyes still strained on you and he can’t help but notice all the bites and bruises he’s adorned on your body since you’ve been here. It only makes Kidd’s need for you higher.

“What if we do this tomorrow?” Your words break through Kidd’s lust-clouded mind. ”You won’t even remember this since you're drunk, right? We can do it tomorrow!” Beads of sweat dropped from your forehead as you talked to Kidd. Obviously hoping that he might fall for the bait.

Kidd’s eyes stare at you before letting out a yawn. He didn’t say anything for a few seconds before getting up and moving away from your body. Only to grab it seconds later and drag you to lay on the tattered blankets. He fell on top of you, making you let out an ‘oof’.

The warmth your body excluded made made Kidd’s eyes grow heavy as he let out another yawn. Placing his head onto of your breasts, he allowed his drunken self just an hour or two to sleep before going back into his own quarters. No harm in a measly two hours.

~~~

The sky filled with smoke as Kidd angrily desetroyed anything he deemed mocked him. Living or not, his anger was his own fault as ahe had no one to blame but himself. Ever since that drunken night he slept by your side, he’s never been able to sleep normally again.

Before he used to sleep all throughout the night but now. He’d wake up every two hours reaching out for someoen that wasn’t there. He’s never slept with someone all night. Or at all. But now that he’s gotten a taste of what it felt like to sleep next to someone, it wans’t something his body could sleep without. And it pissed him off.

Sure, he loved fucking you whenever he wanted, but now, it’s like he can’t go even an hour without thinking about you. Working in his workshop became a pain in the ass as he could be working on his crew’s weapons only to see your eyes staring at him in his imagination. How blown over they are when he fucks you or how you looked at him when he even enters a room.

He couldn’t even sleep with other women anymore cause his mind kept going to you! All there was was you. It pissed him off to the point he didn’t bother seeking you out of your company for a week and counting. A small part of him begged to go below deck to see the angel he stole from god. Yet the other him spoke curses on how you’ve affected him. It felt as if his head was splitting from the battle going on inside him.

“You're scowling more than usual. What’s wrong?” His friend's voice broke through his thoughts as he stood next to him.

Running a hand through his hair, Kidd hisses. “It’s not something you can help with, so buzz off.”

“Is it about that girl below deck?”

“(Y/N).”

“Yeah her?”

“No.”

“Liar.” Snapping his head towards the masked man, Kidd glared at him.

“Something obviously happened, so stop trying to act like nothing did.” Killer crossed his arms as he looked at his stubborn friend.

“She’s invading my mind like a damn disease! Can’t even go an hour without her popping up in my mind! Not to mention, I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in a month!”

“Can’t even fuck another whore without imagining it’s her! It’s pissing me off! Is this some sort of devil fruit?!” A snort comes from behind Killer’s mask, making Kidd madder.

“Jesus christ, your so stupid.”

“I’m not fucking stupid! If you know what's wrong with me, then spit it out!”

“It’s called falling in love, you idiot.”

Kidd’s eyes widened as he felt his heart stop. “No shot! That’s the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard! I’m not falling in love.”

“Oh really? Well then, let her go, it’s been six months-”

“-No.”

“You're not in love with her, but you refuse to let her go?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, Kidd. Whatever you say.”

~~~

Bursting open the door, Kidd stomps through his room. His rage fills the small space as his heart beats harshly. Once again, a marine ship ruined his supply trip to an island. While normally he wouldn’t care and go on and fight, Killer advised against it. Kidd had a good amount of sake a few hours earlier and wouldn’t be on his A game if they took charge.

While Killer was right, Kidd was still upset that he wouldn’t be able to get supplies for his crew for another day till they reached the next island. His crew had to go hungry for a day simply because of some annoying marines.

“God fucking damnit! Those fucking marines keep getting in my way!” Kidd’s eyes scan the room as he tries to find something to throw. When his eyes landed on a metal butterfly he made for you, he grabbed it off the dresser in a quick movement.

“Fuck!” Throwing it as hard as he could, he aimed for the bedroom door, which was already covered in marks from the other times he'd thrown knives at the door. The sound of a sucked-in breath makes him snap his head in your direction.

“What the fuck are you staring at?!” He watches you scoot away from him, and it only fuels his drunken rage. Who did you think you were to run away from him? To look at him with that face? Do you think it's funny when shit doesn't go his way?

His anger only heightened even more as he wrapped his hand around your foot. Digging his nails into your skin as he pulled you from him.

As soon as you were close enough to him, he grabbed your neck and lifted you into the air. “I said, what the fuck are you staring at?!” He watched you try to pry off his fingers off your neck. The small sting your nails brought only served to piss him off more.

“You're happy, aren’t you?! Do you think the Marines are going to catch me, and you’ll be free?! Is that it?!”

“I-I can’t breathe…Kidd please…” He watched as tears streamed down your face and onto his hand. The tear felt like a needle poking into his heart.

“Stupid bitch!” Stumbling over his own feet, Kidd chucks you against the wall. He watched you hit the wall and onto the floor with a loud ‘thud’ before what sounded like a crack whispered in his ears. He examines your body, not moving, and it causes a hard scowl on his face.

“Get up, damnit! I barely threw you!” Growling, Kidd wobbles over to your body before falling to his knees. His sight is blurry as his head seems to pound. When he slid his fingers through your hair, his brain failed to register the wet substance that coated his hand. He pulls on your hair so he can look you in the eyes.

“Fucking pathetic! Why do I even keep you around when you're so fucking useless?!” Your silence had Kidd’s drunken self slightly coherent.

“Hey! I’m talking to you! Don’t ignore me!” He grabs your face and, through his drunken haze, starts to see a red liquid drip down your face. A red handprint of blood was left on your cheek when he slightly moved his hand.

Your eyes fluttering shut made him sober up as the blood running down your face finally set in.

“Oi! Keep your eyes open!” Moving his hand in front of your face back and forth, his heart rate peaks when he finally watches your eyes fully close. Pulling your body close to his own, he grabs your shoulders and shakes you harder. Worry sets in as you don’t respond.

Picking you up to carry you, he hastly stumbles out of his room and makes a dash to the infirmary. The sound of his footsteps echoed through out the halls. His mouth goes dry as your lack of movement sobers him up to accurately find the room.

To his luck, Killer was already in the infirmary, counting on what they needed to restock.

“Killer, I fucked up.”

~~~

His eyes stared at the carved door as he laid his head on your chest. Your heartbeat pounding in his ears as he tried to ignore the small blood splatter on the floor that he forgot to clean up after the incident.

Your fingers running through his hair did little to calm the thoughts in his head. Even though he laid against you, he felt it wasn’t close enough. Close seemed to not be close enough.

Lifting his body up, he laid down next to you before he pulled you to his chest, you hair slightly tickling his skin. He wrapped his arms around you all the way to the point you wouldn’t be able to leave. Moving his legs, he tangled his limbs with yours. Only then did he feel you were close enough. Your scent a silent lullaby as he raced with thoughts. What if’s ran rampant.

‘What if I just took a nap instead?’

‘What if you got hurt even worse then i thought?’

‘What if you didn’t wake up?’

The thought of you no longer sharing his bed caused a panic to settle in Kidd’s stomach. Your warmth had become the only thing that allowed him to sleep peacefully. Hearing you breathe managed to be the only stress reliever that worked.

It was obvious to him now, that no matter what he might say, he couldn’t live without you.

~~~

The sound of the waves crashing against the beach felt like laughter as Kidd watched you sailing away on a ship he’d never seen before. His scream out to you echoed across the water only to come back to him, mocking him for being too late. Now, he got to watch the only thing that made him calm leave him.

The sand below him showed muddy footprints before being washed away by the ocean. Thunder and harsh rain poured down on Kidd, his hair sticking to his face as the rain pelted down his hair. Whether it was rain or tears that slid down his cheeks was anyone's guess. It felt as if time stopped while he tried to piece together what now?

His goal to find the one piece and become King of the Pirates still ran strong through his veins, but now it felt different. Not even days before this, he began to dream of when he’d finally be called King of the Pirates, when you’d be clinging to his arm and congratulating him, kissing him, and telling him you loved him. But now, that’s what it’d only be—a dream.

~~~

It’s been months since Kidd watched you sail away. Each night was plagued with that image of you sailing farther and farther away from him, every time only seconds late. Not a night went by where he didn’t wake up in a cold sweat. He’d reach out for you and be hit with the painful reminder that it was real—that you were gone.

Yet no matter where he went, it always felt like he saw you out of the corner of his eye. Or how sometimes he’d hear your voice in his ear. But when he turned to check it out, there was nothing. It felt as if he was going insane without you. And while there was intense longing, there was rage.

How dare you leave him? Don’t you know how much you meant to him? Hasn’t he shown he’s learned his lesson? He’s told you he loved you and you still left him. You have no one other then him, he made sure of it. Yet you still left.

Killer tried to tell him to get over you, that there were plenty of other fish in the sea, but he knew what he meant. He shouldn’t be shocked. You weren't even supposed to be with him for as long as you were. It was only a matter of time before the ‘relationship’ Kidd built with you would burn before his eyes. Even if he refused Killer’s words, any sane person would have agreed.

But now here he was, missing you with fury boiling inside him as he stared out over the crowd in the auction house. Privileged entitled assholes as far as the eye can see. All waiting for the show to begin.

~~~

Emotions pumped through his veins as he stared at himself in the mirror. A small splatter of blood on his cheek as all he could think about was you. How happy he was that you were back where you belonged. That after months of sleeplessness not knowing where you were, you were finally back in his arms. Whether you liked it or not wasn't something he cared to hear. He had you first. Those damn Straw Hats took you away, but now, you were back.

But you came back with a price.

Whatever happened in those months you were away changed you. All you did was fight and yell, scream and punch. Instead of the quiet angel he stole, a venomous fallen angel stood before him. But despite missing his fearful princess, the fight you put up managed to also have his blood pumping hotter. Watching you try to fight him only to lose gave him a high that only your fear could compare to.

Seeing your eyes widen in fear when he threatened to cut off your legs made a shiver of pleasure shoot up his spine. Even after you spit venom, he could not help but want you even more. Having you so close to him again made his body go haywire. Hearing you scream out in pain reminded him of when you screamed out his name in such a different, lustful tone. Watching tears stream down your face when he threw punch after punch had him resisting the urge to fuck you bloody and bruised.

While the image was tempting, he had things to do, and he couldn’t let you think you got away with it. So he’d just send Killer down to patch you up after you’d been drenched in your own blood for a while. Maybe it’ll give you some time to contemplate. But if not, that’s okay.

He kinda liked that taste of your blood.

~~~

His heart couldn’t help but leap when he felt your lips running smoothly against his own, your warm skin glowing underneath his fingertips as you cupped his face. A calm washed over him at the small gesture. He pulled you closer and kissed you deeper, never wanting to let you go. But when he pulled away for a breath, he saw the stains of his lipstick on your face, the sight making him smile.

Kidd couldn’t help but feel the shiver that ran down his spine when he felt your breath against his neck. The rigid, cold metal of the collar on your neck had him silently sick in a breath.

“If you're gonna make me a new collar, can it be one I can sleep in?” When you mumbled those words into his skin, flashbacks from that fateful day rushed back to him. How you got out of your collar, so he obviously had to make a bigger and better one. And now you're trying to get a different one?

“Do you know why you're in that collar?” He looked down and was met with your pleading eyes.

“I ran away.” Kidd grits his teeth and digs his fingers into his hips harshly. Anger starts to surface at the memories.

“Yeah, you did. How can I trust you not to do it again, hmm? This collar makes my devil fruit powers work even better than the last one. So why should I give rewards to bad girls?”

“Can I do something to make it up to you?” The idea Killer shut down a week ago comes back to his mind. He’s done a few good studies to understand how it works, and it sounds pretty easy—easy and a perfect way to show everyone who you belong to.

“Take off your shirt.”

“W-What?”

“You heard me. Take it off.” Kidd watches you with heat pooling in his abdomen as he takes longing glimpses at your bare chest.

“Back to me.” He watches you listen and can’t help but run his fingers along your skin. Tracing your spine causes a shiver to run down his.

Getting up, he placed you down on the chair before tying you to it with a piece of metal. The sight makes him bite the inside of his cheek.

“H-Hey! What the hell!” Kidd only laughed before turning away from you.

“You know, Killer originally talked me out of this, but since you wanted to be rewarded for bad behavior, I think it’ll go nicely with your new collar.” A rush of power surges through Kidd’s bones as he collects everything he needs.

“It’ll also show anybody who tries to take you away from me that you belong to me.” With his hands finally full, Kidd turns back to you. Your face goes rigid as he walks in your direction, which in turn makes you try to scoot away. Grabbing the side of the chair, he brings you back to him.

“Don’t worry, princess, I did my research.” A major rush of power flowed through Kidd's veins as he watched you struggle to escape.

“This is completely unreasonable! You can’t be serious!”

“You wanted to make it up to me? Well, here's your chance.” Kidd could see the panic in your eyes as he started to heat up the metal pole in his hands.

“There has to be something else, please, Kidd!” In a swift and rash motion, Kidd threw his hand towards you and felt your cheek collide with his knuckles.

“Be fucking grateful that I’m even giving you this chance! Those damn Straw Hats taught you that you can be a brat! I’m going to kill each one of those fuckers! I’ll do it in front of you so you can see what happens when you leave me!”

“You’ll never beat them! They’re gonna come for me and kick your ass!” Red clouded Kidd’s vision hearing your words. Grabbing your hair, he tugs it back so you face him. The tears in your eyes go ignored as Kidd’s grip on the metal pole tightens. He didn’t give you a second to speak before pushing the burning hot pole on your chest.

The scream you let out when the metal was fully pushed onto your skin swiped him out of his rage. The red that once blinded him was now gone as he quickly pulled away from you. He’d never heard something so ear-piercing and painful in his life. It echoed all throughout his workshop, and he felt a panic set in when he noticed he skipped a step in his rage and how you’ve now passed out.

“Shit! Shit! Oi, princess!” Grabbing your chin, his eyes studied your face to see any sign of consciousness, yet he was met with none. His heart rate spiked as he ripped away the metal he tied you with before carrying you bridal style. He rushed to the infirmary and cursed himself internally for not following all the steps as he tried to ignore the graphic third-degree burn on your chest.

~~~

All he could feel was numb, yet a pain that was indescribable when you moved his head to look at his arm. What once used to be a full limb was now nothing more than a stump. He could see his body covered in bandages as the memory of what happened came back to him. Words couldn’t seem to form as he felt his dreams crash down around him.

“You should lay down and make sure everything heals properly.” Using the arm he had left, Kidd pulled you onto his lap. Burying his head into your scarred chest, it's then that he feels the tears on his own cheeks.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s cried like this, or if he’s ever cried like this. Crying so hard that he struggled to breathe and began to shake. It felt like the walls were closing in on him as he cried into your chest. All he could think of was how would he become King of the Pirates with one arm? It set him back so much that he felt hopeless.

But when you wrapped your arms around him and slid your fingers through his hair, he pulled you closer despite his bandaged torso. The slight pain he felt was nothing compared to the pain he felt inside.

“Just breathe, okay? In and out.” Following your command, Kidd tries to copy your breathing despite continuing to cry. Your now-soaked shirt rubbed against his face, and it only worsened the pain in his heart.

The small and gentle tune you began to hum made his hold tighter. He never wanted to let you go as you comforted him when he needed you the most.

~~~

Kidd sat on a chair next to you in the hospital bed as worry and fear took over him. His anger once again took charge and caused him to hurt you horrifically. Seeing you laying there with bandages covering your head caused a guilt he’s never felt before. He remembered the amount of blood you lost when he ran you to the hospital. It dripped from your head all the way to the hospital.

He managed to nab a doctor right away and have him work on you. Every second you were in the surgery room felt like hell. And what the doctor told him what the diagnosis was made Kidd’s heart clench.

“Since she fell off your ship, there's no doubt she has a sort of head/brain trauma. Long-lasting effects could stem from this injury. Here’s a list of some effects that you can read while I go grab another IV bag.”

Which is where Kidd sat now. Watching you breathe. Watching you breathe with the crumbled up list in hand. Your eyes closed as you sleep, unaware of the wreck he is. Grabbing your hand, Kidd brought it close to his lips and kissed your knuckles before holding it against his forehead.

“I’m sorry, princess. You can pull through this. You have to.”

Caressing your face, Kidd looks at you, sleeping peacefully. The moonlight shining off you gave you that same angelic glow he saw you with all those years ago. Despite the scars that covered your body, you were still so beautiful. Rubbing your cheek, Kidd looked down at you lovingly.

“This is how it should be, sleeping next to me.” With your legs tangled in his, Kidd scoots his body closer to yours before kissing your forehead. A wicked smile slithers along Kidd’s face.

“All those memories gone. No more talking about home. No more flinching, no more Straw Hats.”

“Those bastards, trying to play hero and stole you from me. Thinking your up for grabs when you obviously belong to me. Meant for me. You were meant to be mine and stay by my side. Why else would I have gotten a second chance?”

“Now, I’ll always have you. You look up at me with loving eyes instead of hatred. Instead of hitting me, you run up to hug me. You kiss me passionately like I’ll disappear any moment. I love it when you run up to me and jump so I can catch you. I love it when you sit next to me while I work in my workshop, giving me praise. If I had known you hit your head harder, I would have you in my arms willingly…”

“Then I would’ve thrown you against the wall harder.”

~~~

‘That selfish prick! After everything I’ve done to keep her in the dark, he comes around and fucks it up! Everything was going great! She loved me yet-’

“Fuck!” Slamming his metal hand against the bench in his workshop, Kidd begins to tear it apart. Weapons were thrown to unknown corners of the room, pieces of metal scattered across the floor, and a dent in the bench.

Kidd gritted his teeth as his whole body uncontrollably shook. The dried blood staining his hand only continued to serve his rage. Because even if Heat was already dead, the damage had been done. The day of you holding him tight and kissing him was over. He’ll never be able to feel you close to him again. At least, not without a fight.

Hot tears began to stream down his face as he gripped the dented bench with an iron grip. His tears felt like an acid against his skin as his vision blurred. The smirk the bastard wore while he bled out behind you burned into Kidd’s memory.

Giving you a devil fruit, a logia type at that was infuriating. How the hell did he manage to get it on the boat and have you eat it? You were always by his side, so how could Heat have given it to you? The day of the fight? Or when he caught you and Heat talking to each other alone? How could he not see the signs earlier? Why did it take the busting open of your old cell door twice for him to finally understand what he needed to do?

Yet it was too late.

“God damnit.” Kidd swallowed the lump in his throat before letting out a sniffle. “This is bad. How am I gonna fix this? There’s gotta be a way-”

“Kidd.” The workshop door opens, and Killer stands in the doorway. Quickly wiping his tears, Kidd tries to regain steady breathing, hoping Killer doesn’t see his moment of weakness.

“What Killer?”

“You better have a good plan. Explain where Heat went and where (Y/N) went.” Kidd stays silent, which is all Killer needs.

“Did you-”

“I saw everything from the shadows. This could be a sign, you know?”

“What kind of fucking sign?”

“You know what kind of sign I’m talking about.” Silence covers the workshop.

“Maybe it’s time to let her-”

“No!” Kidd slams his metal hand on the bench with enough force to cause another dent.

“Well, what do you think you should do then?” Once again, the workshop goes silent.

“Giving you a week to decide for (Y/N). As for Heat, better pull something good out of your ass.” Just as soon as Killer entered, he left. Leaving Kidd to wallow in his predicament.

~~~

“Do you really think she’s on this island, Kidd? It’s been a week since the paper came out.”

“She will be on this island. If she isn’t, I’ll kill anyone I need to to figure out where she went. I don’t want a single civilian to go unquestioned. If they refuse to tell you, don’t be afraid to use violence.”

The bustling port of Haylard Island has Kidd’s eyes scanning every inch of movement. If you were on that dock, he wanted to make sure he saw you. There was no room for him to be making mistakes. He’s already made enough.

“Burn down buildings, steal supplies, and anything you think is worth something. Do not stop until the ashes block out the sun.”

“Yes, captain!” Hearing his own crew leave, Kidd finally let out a shaky inhale while looking down. The sea stared back at him, once again mocking him for losing you.

“Laugh all you want, but take my word. I’ll burn and kill my way back to her. And nothing will stop me until she’s in my arms.”

~~~

Despite the night once being full of cheers, the marine group of G-5 now found themselves fighting for their lives. What should have been a celebration was now a fight to the death as they were ambushed in the dark of the night. The once-empty sky was now covered in flaming arrows heading directly toward them.

“Everyone, man, your stations! We’re under attack, so get ready for a fight!” The captain's commands echo throughout the ship, and no one wastes a second. Running up and down the ship, Captain Tashigi checks to see if everything is in order to ensure supreme safety.

“Captain!” the sound of a terrified marine rings through her ears as she runs to the voice. Coming up from below the deck, she’s met with fire and smoke. It felt as if her heart was going to explode as all she could hear was marines yelling and the flickering of flames.

The flames only got higher as she tried to figure out what to do. Before she went below deck, they were able to contain the fires, but now, it’s almost consumed the entire deck. With how fast the flames were spreading, there was no doubt that the ship would be at the bottom of the sea before sunrise.

Grabbing a transponder snail she kept in her pocket, she began to call the nearest marine base to help with the attack. She realized this wasn’t a battle they could fight on their own.

“Hello! This is Captain Tashigi of G-5. We need backup right away! We’re under attack, and the ship is engrossed in flames!”

“G-5, this is (....)! We will send you back up right away! What are your locations, and can you see the attackers?”

“Our coordinates are (-------)! I don’t know, as the flames are so tall and the smoke is-” The whole ship shook as something hit the deck, causing Tashigi to drop the transponder snail and fall backward.

“-Oof!”

“Captain are you okay?”

“Something just hit the boat! I’m unaware of what it is!” Quickly getting back on her feet, Tashigi grabs her sword along with the transponder snail.

“I’m going to go check it out.”

“Keep us on the line.”

“Will do.” Putting the snail away for safekeeping, Tashigi grips her sword with both hands as she starts to walk carefully through the flames.

As soon as she stepped in, the sound of a marine screaming echoed across the deck. Panic set in the captain's stomach as her hands began to shake. The screams of pain and terror only caused more panic to set in. But she’s the captain. She has to be strong. She can’t back down.

“G-5, what’s going on?!” The screams of pain and agony continue before a loud audible SNAP rings in Tashigi’s ears. Assuming the worst, she feels all the color drain from her face.

And just like that, it was quiet.

“G-5?” With her voice trembling, Tashigi couldn’t help but be frozen in place.

“Tashigi.” Before she could scream, a rough, calloused hand covered her mouth. Looking in her peripheral vision, she saw Vice Admiral Smoker motioning her to shush. Nodding her head, Smoker lowered his hand.

“What’s going on, Vice Admiral?”

“Almost the entire deck has been engulfed in flames. We need to go to the other side of the ship.”

“But what about-”

“It’s silent over those flames, Tashigi.” With tears prickling in her eyes, she understands what he’s saying despite wishing it not to be true. Grabbing her hand, Smoker runs to the end of the ship, where there are fewer flames. Their footsteps echo, giving away their position to the attackers.

As she was running, Tashigi’s sword started vibrating before being completely pulled from her hands. She watched it fly backward and into the flames. A metal thunk rang across the deck, making her eyes widen. When she looked into the flames, she felt her heart stop.

Walking through the flames was no other than the man who had the whole new world in the palm of his hand.

“V-Vice Admiral…it’s-”

“Go hide, Tashigi. I’ll handle this.” Putting himself in front of her, Smoker points towards the darkness.

“But-”

“I’ll be fine. Go hide. Don’t come out until I come to get you.”

With a tremble in her voice, she responds. “Okay.”

Running into the darkness, Tashigi searches around with a racing heart, desperate to find a hiding spot. The sound of unintelligible yelling and metal clanking only makes her search more frantic. She should be fighting, but if Smoker says to hide…

“Killer! Go after the girl. She ran straight ahead.”

“You’ll have to get past me first. Both of you.”

“Vice Admiral.” Whispering to herself, Tashigi runs around some more before spotting an empty barrel. With no more time to spend, she jumps in.

As she gets as comfortable as she can, she puts the barrel lid over her head, leaving her in complete darkness. Her knees pressed against her chest as she struggles to take deep breaths. She tries to prevent herself from shivering.

‘This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.’ She thinks to herself as tears slip down her cheeks. She knew the stakes there were to bring you to Sabaody, but they were so careful about not giving away. It was then taking care of you. How did Kidd figure out it was them?

A loud thud can be heard throughout the deck before silence. No words were spoken, and the fear was only intensified. Tashigi felt her throat grow dry as she started to hear boots shuffling along the deck.

Sounds of things being searched causes her heart to beat out of her chest. Her body begins to shake as she hears the boots walking towards her hiding spot.

The moonlight soon shines down on her as the barrel's lid pops open. She looks up and sees no one. The moonlight shone down on her as she feared who had opened the lid, but she soon gets her answer.

“Found you.”

~~~

Haven't been able to draw for shit so no picture

@rebeccawinters @iggy5055 @dairygrrl @childconnoisseur @menifire1092 @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @lovemesomefanfic846 @ryuv1i @carpinchootaku @misoxramen @pinkfoxmusic @mizzhellsingsstuff

#one piece x reader #eustass captain kid x reader #eustass kid x reader #tw: violence #tw: abuse #tw: blood #tw death #dark content things

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wynnyfryd · 5 months

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trailer park AU schedule update

well first of all:

holy shit we made it!!! can’t believe November’s over already

secondly, i want to thank everyone who has read along up to this point. this story started as a 500 word drabble, and now it’s the longest fic i’ve ever written. like, i published over 30,000 words in just over a month thanks to y’all, when i’ve previously never managed to write more than 12k of a story without losing interest. that’s wild!! not to be a sappy little bisexual about it, but your constant encouragement and enthusiasm have been unbelievably motivating, and i’ve had so much fun reading all of your comments and theories along the way, and i love you very much and your hair looks really pretty.

thirdly, this fic isn’t going anywhere! i’m just as invested as y’all at this point lol. updates will slow down a bit going forward because writing publishable content 5-7 days a week is an absurd pace that i never intended to continue beyond november, but i plan to keep writing until the story’s done. expect updates to be more like 3-4 times/week from here on out.

if you still want to follow along in real time, you can:

turn on blog notifications for me

follow the tag #trailer park steve au

join the tag list (if you’re over 21)

and if you prefer to read along as chapters come out, you can subscribe to the story on ao3

thank you all again 🩷 this has been the best not-really-nanowrimo of my whole life, and i’ve been doing this event since i was 16. kissing u real gently on the forehead etc.

#trailer park steve au #can’t believe i’m being sincere on main. disgorsting.#love y’all

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onlyjaeyun · 2 months

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alright, i'm gonna address this ask once and then just not respond to anything else, even the asks supporting me bc im a little exhausted and on the verge of losing motivation so i dont wanna trigger it by going back and forth with people. yet this does not mean i dont deeply appreciate everyone's sweet messages. means the world to me to know you all have my back like this, so thank you so much 🤍

once and for all: this is fiction. fiction, meant for adults hence the MDNI/18+ in my bio, basically plastered all over my blog.

every character ive created so far is just that. a character. and i need some of you guys to understand that this is what (fan)fiction is about. the smoking, the family trauma, the lack of self awareness, their sexual activities and coping mechanisms, everything regarding and about my characters was created by me and most of the time intentionally.

one thing that also needs to be clear is that you can't just run around policing grown people in their asks talking about such significant issues and throwing around accusations like that because not only is it deeply offensive but it's also very, very dangerous. you misunderstood my post and assumed i'd use sex and sexual intimacy to have him make up for his wrongdoings when that is NOT what i said at all. just please be careful the next time because i understand where you came from but i did not deserve that.

what i also wanna address is the part with me having "impressionable readers" because this is very important to me as a smut writer.

i have set clear boundaries that i do not want any minors on my blog, point blank. now, we all know they're still around. is that my responsibility? no. am i supposed to give a fuck about people who are apparently old enough to consciously read trigger/content warnings and continue to read my work? fuck no. is it my job to educate those impressionable people that they shouldn't read smth if they can't differentiate fiction from reality. NO.

that's all im gonna say to this because yes, there are impressionable readers out there but that is NOT my responsibility.

im tired of people constantly policing me and the things i write when im a grown woman who knows exactly what she's doing. if you hate CH!sunghoon so much and are so uncomfortable with his progress, then don't read it.

saying this for everyone yet again:

if you do NOT like a writer's work, you do NOT have to READ it.

this is tumblr. i write things for FUN. i publish them for you guys to read for FREE. i dont owe anybody shit. im so, so sorry if this makes some of you angry or upset now but at the end of the day it's the truth. this is my blog and my writing and i will do whatever the fuck i want and unfortunately you have no choice but to live with it.

i appreciate constructive criticism but i will not and never in the future let anyone be so mean to me and accuse me of things when you usually just see and read and hear what you want and make up your own version of the story when it's so, so far away from the truth.

pls do not attack the nonie bc i know this is the result of a misunderstanding but it was a good opportunity for me to address the whole impressionable reader situation.

if you can't differentiate fiction from reality that's your problem, stop making it mine.

thank you so much for everything, nothing but love 🧸🩷🎀

#also not to be that bitch but y'all let people write full on (pseudo) incest fics about real people including lacking consent and very #questionable kinks but nobody says a thing #my male lead is a fucking asshole who has yet to grovel and i get shit thrown at me left and right #; rambles

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cringefail-clown · 1 year

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I'm so fucking invested in your turnabout au I'm going to explode please just like ramble if you up to it

hoo boy lets do it

so atm my favourite part of the au to think about is post scratch bro and his relationship with hal, post scratch roxy and what dave would think about him. like for example i don't think he'd be this big superstar like post scratch dave was in canon, his work against the condence would be much more subtle. i imagine him working much more closely with roxy and grandpa jake - its not clear in canon how much dave, rose and jade collaborated together, they for sure were in contact, but its honestly up to interpretation. those three in the au would probably work very closely together, maybe roxy and dirk could help jake with building up skaianet - dirk as an engineer and rox as a programmer. they'd also have their own gigs on the side, roxy would sure as hell hijack crocercorp with malware every chance she got, and dirk would have some obscure websites that'd spread propaganda against condence under the veil of weird puppet stuff and insane chatbots. he'd probably write some kind of this universes detective pony parody book and get it published and it'd become one of the most recognisable pieces of literature documenting the takeover of the troll empire and the rebellion against it

(some quick designs of hal and bro i pulled outta my ass)

honestly he'd probably become some sort of vigilante batman-esque figure in this universe?? he'd show up unexpected, blow some crockercorp warehouses and disappear into the night. and after hal joins him when he builds him a body the media would paint them as some sort of twin antiheroes lmfao

oh man and hal. it'd go simialrly as it was in canon, dirk would fuck around and copy his brain at a young age and they'd HATE each other at first. like dirk would feel responsible for creating hal, and hal would resent the shit outta him - like how dare he be the one who gets to keep the body and hal must be stuck in a pair of glasses, trapped with no means of escaping? but they'd start working together when they find out about dave and the future to ensure their lil bro has the best chances of survival, and in time they'd bond over it and their shared work against condy. they'd come up with a plan so that hal goes into sleep mode until the arrival of the meteor (bc no way in hell dirk would make hal go through hundreds of years of lonely existance, watching as humanity slowly ceases to exist and unable to do anything about it, he'd go nuts).

and the day finally comes when dirk would have to go face the batterwitch so he'd put hal in the apartment and they would tell each other one last goodbye and dirk would put hal in the sleep mode. and hal would wake up like only seconds passed, not years upon years, only the vast ocean streching as far as his eyes could see behind the dirty, dusty windows, and he'd know his one brother is long dead, gone while facing the enemy he was destined to lose against but had to do it anyway, and the other one moments from crashing into the waters below on a meteor sent by some insane video game that creates new universes. he'd sit there for a while, reality slowly sinking in, and he'd probably desperatly wish like he hasn't in years, to be human again and to mourn his losses the human way, because as advanced as his robotic body was he haven't thought about updating it with some goddamn tearducks.

on a lighter note, imagine dirk crunching numbers for three days straight to figure out how much food he'd have to stock in the apartment to make sure dave doesn't grow up malnourished, desperately googling "how much calories does an *insert age* year old need". he'd be banned from every supermarket in at least two states. he would walk into the store and employees would start weeping at the sight of him. i think about it a lot

#homestuck #dirk strider #dave strider #hal strider #lil hal #bro strider #turnabout au #ask #long post #some juicy looore #don't read into it too much im running on 4 hours of sleep and 3 coffees and i havent even proofread it #anyway i judt... i love dirk and hal #let them be bros dammit #homestuck au

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blondeforyou · 3 months

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I want to show you all something.

Anecdote: I love data. I love spreadsheets. I love number trends. I had a thought, a feeling, a theory. Research and the scientific process has not failed me yet.

The Smosh fandom on AO3 has a total of 1,785 works in it, as of the writing of this Tumblr post (Sunday, January 28th, 9:31 AM CST):

Anecdote: when we reach 2k fics, I'll lose my mind.

I thought about June 20th, 2023. The day that Ian and Anthony announced that they had purchased their company back. I saw the ripple effects of this unexpected change in every online place in visited: YouTube (obviously), but also Tumblr and Reddit and Twitter and Facebook. Friends I've had for years, who I've never had a conversation about Smosh with, were commenting on it.

Anecdote: I genuinely don't know when I started watching Smosh. They've been a part of my online experience in some capacity for over a decade, that's the only way I can describe it. Through all and every change Smosh has experienced, I've watched it all happen with varying levels of interest.

Back to the scientific process: capturing data on AO3 is an exercise in frustration. Publish dates can be changed by the author (good things for authors, bad thing for me who is trying to get raw data). You can sort by Upload Date, but you can't filter by it. Admittedly, I was also too impatient to port the data into a spreadsheet to look at it objectively. Sometimes, thought, you just have to get down and dirty with the data to find what you're looking for.

The first Smosh fanfiction published after Ian and Anthony's announcement was posted on June 21st, 2023.

There have been 466 fanfics posted in this fandom since then.

It's simple math after that point. 26% of all Smosh fanfic on AO3 has been published in the last 6 months. That's amazing. No, really. that's actually amazing. Smosh has been around for over 18 years. 26% in 6 months. I've never seen anything like that.

Anecdote: holy shit???

And we're still going. We're still creating. We're still inspired. I'm inspired every day by the people in this fandom. I want to keep making more. I hope you all do, too.

#smosh #smoshblr #smosh rpf #i just love numbers and ao3 and yall so much #idk why i made this I just thought it was cool

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bullet-clubs-bitch · 6 months

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Wardaddy

Summary: Reader finds out she's pregnant after she lost her title at double or nothing. Will the nickname she jokingly gave her boyfriend “Wardaddy” gain a whole other meaning?

An: I found this fit in my drafts, wrote it months ago but for some reason never published it? Enjoy, and pls remember to give Wardlow requests in my inbox

Word count: 1132

Main Masterlist Wardlow Masterlist

The internet was a weird place. You always hated the bird app with all of its negativity and BS but here you were scrolling on twitter after you found out why you were trending.

Your face was shocked when you saw the amount of negative comments regarding your relationship with Wardlow. Sure he was 8 years older than you but for the most part everyone had been supportive of it. It was the AEW locker room who kept trying to set the two of you up for the longest time. You were quite confused on why all of a sudden it was now they were concerned with it. A few months ago you were deemed the power couple of all elite wrestling, on the top of the company both of you holding championships. You had just ended a feud with your real life best friend Britt Baker and her long time boyfriend Adam Cole.

The fans loved it, mixed tag matches were surprisingly uncommon in aew so when they became a regular occurrence in your feud the fans were quick to eat it all up.

Having had enough of social media for the day you stepped into catering for the first time after losing your championship two weeks ago at double or nothing. You ran into Britt who had beat you in a no DQ match for the women's championship.

“Sup, Champ” You called to your friend

“Hey Mama, how’s it going” Britt replied back

“Not much, I'm literally starving. I’ve been oddly hungry the past few days and more bloated than usual.” you said hand on your stomach looking at all of the different options catering had to offer.

Britt laughed, handing you a plate. The two of you got some food before you found somewhere quiet to eat. Far away from all of the cameras and wrestlers. While you enjoyed your food Britt asked you…

“How’s your shoulder doing?”

“It can be better, still hurts like a son of a bitch though” you replied, looking down at your shoulder that had been taped together in a million different ways

“Sorry about that again” She apologized knowing she was the cause of your injury

“Why are you sorry, shit happens.” You said a little bit confused on why she kept apologizing. The injury wasn’t even her fault. You were the one that called out the spot with the steps.

“Medical won’t clear me quite yet, hopefully within the next few weeks or so” you responded oddly calmly, secretly upset you weren't able to compete in the show tonight.

“Good luck out there tonight, tho. I hope you kick Thunder Rosa’s Ass!”

“I will don’t worry” Britt responded laughing

Time skip: 4 weeks later

“Is it still that bad?” Your boyfriend Wardlow called through the door of your hotel bathroom.

“I feel like my insides are falling out” you said in agony clutching your stomach as you threw up whatever you had left in your stomach.

“Can I come in?” he asked nervously

“No! I'm hideous go away” your words laced with venom as they left your lips.

The medical staff had finally cleared you to return on this week's episode of Dynamite but your body had other ideas. You felt like you were dying and your poor boyfriend had no idea what to do. He tried his very best and you appreciated it but it came to the point where you just wanted to be alone. You cleaned up and finally stepped out of the bathroom to be greeted by Wardlow. He handed you some fresh clothes. As you were putting on your shirt you looked down at your stomach.

“Did I gain weight” you said as you looked in the mirror

“I think you look fine Y/N” Wardlow replied annoyed you would ask such a question

“No honestly, I think I did”

“Y/N, your probably just bloated” he replied rolling his eyes

“Whatever” you scoffed

You arrived to the arena, looking and feeling like shit. You decided to stop by the doctor to let them know that you weren't feeling the best, all it took was one of the doctors to look at the dark circles under your eyes and pale look in your skin to deem you uncleared for the show tonight. It made you feel like shit, working hard with physios to get your shoulder better only to catch some bug before your return. Thankfully Britt wasn’t booked for the show tonight so the two of you could hang out and watch the show from one of the skyboxes in the arena.

“So you are still not feeling good?” Britt asked, curiously

“Yep, I don’t know how this is even possible but I feel like I’m getting worse” You told her truthfully.

“When was the last time you got your period?” Britt asked, shit, you never even thought about that

“Ummm maybe a few months ago”

“Have you ever thought that you might be pregnant?”

“I mean we are careful but that would explain a lot of things”

“Since we both have nothing to do, how bout we leave the arena, grab a few tests and we can go back to the hotel and see. I’m sure you don’t want to take a test in the locker room with all those nosey people”

That is exactly what the two of you did, you told your respective partners to meet back at the hotel and let everyone else know that you would be hedging out for the evening. You and Brit ended up getting four different kinds of tests and a few goodies to bring back to the hotel. Unfortunately a fan recognized the two of you at the CVS that just so happened to be next to your hotel. Lying, you said the pregnancy tests were for a segment for the next BTE, now you somehow would have to tell the bucks to include some kind of skit involving pregnancy tests in next week's episode to keep true to your lie.

Currently you and Britt sat on top of the hotel bed, munching on some chips as you both stared at the blinking screen of the pregnancy test. “How long is this going to take? I feel like we have been sitting here forever” You asked Britt. “According to this it says 5 minutes” Britt responded.

Just then the test stopped flashing. ‘Pregnant 4-6 weeks’

You and Britt had no idea what to say, the two of you in shock at what you were seeing. You were first to break the silence “This has to be wrong. No way I’m pregnant”

Sure enough you were pregnant. You took 5 more to make sure, all 6 tests saying the same thing. What was Wardlow going to think?

#bullet clubs bitch #aew smut #all elite wrestling #aew #aew fanfiction #wardlow x reader #wardlow aew #wardlow fanfiction #wardaddy #wardlow #wardlow smut

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agendabymooner · 11 months

Text

colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (4)

Summary: Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: Can you actually fall in love fast? or is Tilly just fortunate enough to catch Toto's attention and gain his respect and determination in span of a day? As of this point, she might as well host a slumber party as Daniel and Lewis continue to pester her with the most important topics of her life right now: her family and the hypothetical ones she'd make with Toto.

Content warning: Age gap, brief use of explicit language, discusses the 2014 austrian gp, flirtatious banter, mutual pining kind of romance, platonic relationship with Lewis Hamilton and Daniel Ricciardo, fictional family and business involved (Hearth family and Hearth Automotives Group). NO PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS INVOLVED SORRY

Note: Thank you all so much for the 50 followers! I honestly have been writing these just because I didn't have anything occupy my time and it's a good idea that I posted them up here. knowing that you're enjoying my brain's ideas, it fuels me even more into writing. As of this point I'm currently writing a spin-off for Rush and this series so keep an eye out, I suppose. I hope you all enjoyed today's race because I certainly did (Albon was way too fucking good this weekend, I shit you not). And I hope Alonso's 2nd place makes up for the Father's Day that I'll never get to spend with him. Enjoy xx

masterlist

iv. fast lane but not the race weekend kind

“Regards,

Tilly Marie F. Hearth…”

That should be okay, I tell myself silently as I put away my laptop. It’s only 6 pm, and I already wish to retire to my bed early.

I can be doing a lot, but instead I’m moping inside my hotel room while I’m waiting for Lewis. Being on a paid vacation is nice; I don’t have to do anything and deal with people. But at the same time, I’m craving more tasks to occupy my time because truthfully, I do NOT want to be stuck in a hotel in Silverstone with nothing to do. I spent my early 20’s being away from people, but now I’m entering my early 30’s, I’m slowly thinking that I probably should’ve done more than attend festivals by myself or with my sisters.

None of the people I was around with earlier had looked my way until after they'd been told that I was working in communications and was a boss’ child. The staff from the other teams also did the same—but some of them knew who I was already and had already made themselves comfortable. Just how I wanted.

But then again, this is my first day. And Sunday would probably be my last considering that I’ll be back to my stuffy office the next week.

I can take up the role as a consultant for communications. My father did offer me that role for Ferrari, Red Bull and McLaren—telling me that I can do so much more in Formula One than my no-good employers.

Bunch of bullshit, I curse out. He wouldn’t let go of his legacy like that.

I already told him about writing for magazines or simply writing in general, but he still placed these executive positions in front of me as if he knew I’d give in. Sad fact is that he actually is right; I’m close to giving up on my job. If The Devil Wears Prada didn’t warn me the first time, Lauren Weisberger should have at least taken both of my shoulders and shaken them.

It didn’t hurt to think about balancing Formula One and journalism out. After all, it’s what I can do as a journalist—know enough about racing and engines and ensure that my knowledge is being shared through my writing and published works.

I try my best to relax in my bed, lying flat on the mattress with my hands resting on my stomach. The silence is deafening and I can hear my steady breathing. My eyes are growing tired as they continue to look up at the ceiling of my room.

For a moment, I debated whether or not I should come downstairs for dinner with Lewis. If there’s anything that I know about him, he takes his dear time to get ready—and I have an endless closet at home. That’s telling you a lot.

A knock on my door makes me stand fast and rush to open it. Daniel Ricciardo stands there with a grin.

“Oh you,” I blurt out.

Displeased with my response, Daniel cries out, “I’m not terrible all the time, Tils.”

“Sorry,” I shake my head as I correct myself, “I meant that I thought you were Lewis.”

“He phoned me and said we should head down instead of waiting for him,” he shrugs as he sticks his arm out and offers, “let’s go?”

I nod and head to where my flats are, slipping them on with ease as I grab my keycard and wallet.

Daniel only pulled his arm back when I wrapped my arm around it. We descend to the ground floor where the restaurant is located.

A host takes us to a four table seat at a corner. Seeing familiar faces from the venue, I nod at them as a greeting before I find myself sitting across Daniel.

Soon enough, Lewis arrives and we begin to talk about today’s events. Forty five minutes had passed, and we found ourselves conversing in front of our already empty plates.

Daniel asks about my family and all I can tell him has something to do with my mother’s side of the family. I guess out of the wealthy people in my family, I can understand my mother’s connections to the automobile industry. My toxic trait is that I despise my father but love my mother.

The difference is that my mother loves us more than anything and cares for our half-sister more than he does.

But it seems Daniel has focused on a different matter.

“Your mother is— you’re a Ford, Tils,” his eyes widen like an owl as his mouth gapes open. I can practically see a fly entering his mouth.

“My mum is,” I laugh, looking at Lewis as he, too, laughs at Daniel’s shocked expression.

“Mate, she’s a Ford,” Daniel reaches out to nudge at Lewis and gestures at me. “You carry that information around just like that?”

“She’s not really putting it out there for everyone to know,” Lewis chuckles, sipping on his water as he puts it down. “Besides, if you were really into racing you probably have heard about her dad or mum’s family one way or another.”

“I don’t really go digging for information about old money families,” Daniel rolls his eyes as he looks at me again, “you don’t look like you’re happy to be here. For someone who came from families who are into cars.”

“My father insisted on having me work for his teams,” I tell him, “I’m not exactly the brightest for motorsport. I prefer the media more than what my father wishes me to pursue.”

“Have you raced before?”

“I had a karting career at some point,” I shrug, “or at least I started at the age 4. Mum didn’t agree with it and I should’ve started at 7, but my father insisted. I was already competing by 7. My sisters were too, but some preferred equestrian over racing.”

“If my dad was a twat, I’d stop it just to spite him too,” Daniel says as I raise my brows at the statement. He then corrects himself, “What I mean is I’d pursue the karting career for me, not for him.”

“Gotcha.”

Lewis pipes up, “Blanche is a pretty decent woman. You should see her, mate.” He turns to look at me and asks, “Is she coming this weekend?”

“With Aimee and Sylvie,” I nod in confirmation, “I’m not quite sure about Stevie yet but she wouldn’t want to miss out on your home race.” Not elaborating any further, I return to the topic, “My father is absolutely baffled when I quit karting but he can’t do much because Poppy, my mum’s dad, was still alive. So between him and Poppy, he chose not to interfere.”

“But you’re still here on behalf of your father though,” Daniel points out.

“It’s to secure my position and family’s future,” I tell him with a sigh. I look at him then back at Lewis before I say, “Whether I like it or not, I still need to do my part regardless of how much I hate the surname. It’s an obligation that I can’t avoid but it’s alright. It’s not just for me— it’s for my sisters and my future children.” Wow, I’ve only been friends with Daniel for a month and I’m already airing out my dirty laundry to him. Is this what happens when your friends are your sisters and just Lewis?

“You’re taking your elder sister role way too seriously. You can’t even catch a break,” Daniel says incredulously.

I can only nod as I agree; my mother’s capable enough of worrying about them and I should just be doing whatever I want. She cares for my sisters as much as I do but being cut off from my father’s side of the family isn’t something that I’d allow.

It’s not as if my sisters don’t want to join me at the trackside; they want to keep an eye on one of each team in fact. They want to be able to know what kind of thing our father brags about. But much like me, they don’t want to be on the track itself—they’re better off being models because that's what they wanted to be. They’ll join me soon enough, they just need to make a career out of modelling and come to work for the driving teams whenever they’re ready.

“They’ll be in a lot of magazines soon enough,” I shrug nonchalantly. “I’d like them to do that first unless they feel like carrying a headache coming from either Brown or Horner.”

“There are three of them,” Lewis chuckles, “if anything, those three would outnumber your team principals. With you alone I got scared, could you imagine Sylvie? She’s feisty.”

“It’s not just to keep them sane,” I roll my eyes, my foot underneath the table kicking Lewis in the leg. The table shakes lightly. “I just started working in this kind of industry. What kind of a big sister would I be if I’m just as clueless? I need to know more, especially if I want to be able to teach my potential kids about it.”

Lewis, the piece of shit, decides that this is the right time to joke about it and say, “I didn’t know you’re already thinking about a future with my boss, Tilly.”

I snap my head to Lewis’ direction too much that I’m thinking I just got a whiplash. My glare hardens when Danny and Lewis’ faces turn red from laughing too much.

“You ought to quiet down, boys,” I hiss, not wanting to look at the people who are giving us the unnecessary attention being gathered by their laughter.

“You have to admit,” Lewis breathes deeply to refrain from laughing again, “you two got along well. Was it because of Dubai?”

“I told you that in confidence,” reaching down in his thigh, I pinch it as he whines quietly. He slaps my hand away as I say, “You’re a shit secret keeper.”

“Wai— what about Dubai?” Daniel, clearly not understanding what’s going on, asks as he looks at me while he expects a context.

I muttered to him, “Met Toto Wolff in 2006. Spoke to him and all that.”

Lewis nearly cries in laughter as he speaks, “She told me about it years ago. She never knew his name–or she refused to tell me who. She said he was attractive alright but—ow, stop it, Tils.”

I pull myself away from Lewis and sit back straight on my seat as I claim, “He doesn’t remember nor think of me like that, Lew. He’s just a silly crush.”

“Is he?”

“He was,” I correct him even if I’m wrong. It’s like Toto Wolff got an on-and-off button in my life. One moment he’s there making me blush the next thing he’s already gone.

“You’ve been single for as long as I know,” Lewis huffs out, “why don’t you try dating again anyways?”

“With your boss?” I raise a brow, “Are you that obtuse?”

“What? He isn’t bad,” Lewis shrugs, returning to his usual composure as he crosses his arms, “the opportunity’s right there. Why are you adamant on not taking it?”

“Because she doesn’t want to get on Christian’s bad side for fraternizing with the enemy,” Daniel jokes.

“I’m gonna kill you, Daniel,” I threaten him emptily, making him giggle again.

“I’m repeating what you said!” He cries out, still laughing as he laughs obnoxiously. Men! Seriously.

“He’s quite interested you know,” Lewis states, his arms now crossing as he leaned against his seat. “He’s playing 20 questions with me whenever you leave. I’m not sure if he’s interested in me winning or you.”

“He’s not interested like that,” I insist, “I’m sure he means well because I just popped up all of the sudden today. Nobody likes to step on the wrong foot of a newcomer. You’ll just make an enemy.”

“Yeah, sure,” Daniel scoffs haughtily, “the guy who’s been asking Christian questions about you left and right— the same person who doesn’t like Christian— isn’t interested.”

“I haven’t been in a relationship with anyone since 2004,” I scowl, trying to keep my voice quiet as I say, “What makes you think I’ll be able to have an interesting relationship with him?”

“He isn’t subtle about wanting to spend time with you,” Lewis answers, “what did he say again? You’re welcome to be in our paddock anytime? Does that ring a bell?”

Of course I do, I almost huff out, it’s one of the things that I intend to do. Be able to spend enough time admiring his team…

“I know men,” Daniel adds, “and with the way of how he’s looking down at you during the interview? With the heart eyes making contact with another pair of heart eyes? Yeah, that man is in loooove~”

“Like it’s a fast lane.”

Now I can’t deny it.

I like being around Toto Wolff, more than anything. Speaking to him is like a breath of fresh air after stepping out of a cigar lounge. He’s a gentleman; I’ve always wondered how he’s not married. Women deserve him. Yet he’s here, being the most eligible bachelor in the grid following Fernando Alonso. God, I will snatch him up if I can even meet his level. I doubt he likes his women like me… trashy trying to be classy.

But it turns out, my cynicism is unnecessary. I find myself thinking a lot about the things that could be. In an empty elevator, I wait as it slowly closes. But the call from outside forces me to keep the door open until the person catches up.

The man makes it inside as he stands tall, trying to catch his breath. There’s no way in hell—

“Tilly,” oh my god. I’m seeing too much of him today.

I turn to my left as I dumbly ask, “Bonjour, what floor?”

Toto looks at me with confusion in his face, probably wondering if I’m playing stupid or just stupid in general as he looks past me and says, “You’ve got it.”

Wow, not only am I seeing too much of him, I’m also on the same floor as him.

I nod and look back at the front, I can see him through the reflection from the doors. His polo remains unbuttoned and his hair unruly after running his fingers through it. I can see traces of sweat dripping down his forehead. I probably shouldn’t do a physical examination on him.

I look at him and ask politely, “Have you had dinner yet?” It’s a polite thing to ask, right? Like I’m not coming off as desperate to speak to him?

“Ah,” he keeps his mouth shut for a second and answers, “it is something to take up in my room, unfortunately.”

“Is it?” I ask out of curiosity, “You could have joined others for dinner?”

“Busy, as always,” he smiles sadly, “it’s an endless battle.”

“Quite a shame,” I tell him with a shake of my head. “Do people know time zones or just business hours or is it just something written on papers?” I ask no one in particular.

“My brain doesn’t shut off the moment 7 pm hits,” he tells me with a rueful smile. “It calls for work all the time. So, no. I don’t follow my own business hours policy.” God, I feel sorry for him.

“It’s like a wire, Toto,” I nibble on my bottom lip, not knowing how to express my empathy without looking like an arse, “you can’t plug it back in if you’ve something to prevent it from happening. Like a baby proof.”

“You’re right,” he laughs. “What do you suggest I should do? The baby proof, I mean.”

I watch him as the door slides open, thanking him as he gestures for me to walk out of the lift first. Then my mouth does not stop speaking, “Have a dinner away from your work, for instance. Never hurts to isolate your work once in a while,” he laughs at that, “read a book? I love reading novels— I am currently skimming through Das Parfum. You can even time your break before going back to work because I can assure you that habit isn't good.”

“Do you understand the German language?” He asks me. Mentioning Das Parfum clearly piqued his curiosity.

It was smart of me to bring it up. When he told me earlier that he came from Austria, I knew I could talk to him in so many languages. Like I knew what I should say next. Like a mastermind.

I'm such a fucking mastermind.

My mouth quirks up and I answer, “Wir haben schließlich viele deutsche fahrer.” We have a lot of German drivers, after all.

He nods at me like he listens to everything I tell him. As if he’s following an order or he’s rather impressed with my pronunciations. Nice.

Our conversation leads us in front of my hotel room.

I look at him and gestures to the door, “This is my bat lair.”

“Bat lair?” He chuckles.

“My little humble abode,” I joke. “I can unfortunately hear my bed calling for me. I have to go.”

“Right,” he nods as I open my door and step inside my room. Telling myself to get my shit together, I turn around to see him still waiting for me to head in. That was a surprise.

I suggest, “One way to turn your stressful work day around would be breakfast. If you’d like, you can have one with me tomorrow?”

“Are you asking me on a breakfast date?” He teases, watching me fall apart with my face flushing red. He stops eventually and answers, “I would be more than happy to accompany you before we head out.”

“Okay good,” I laugh nervously, “I’ve no one else with me anyways so there’s that… does seven sound okay?”

“You can ask me for anything I think I’ll say yes, liebling,” boom. There goes my heart once more. He grins gleefully as he says, “I know a place nearby. Would you like me to pick you up tomorrow?”

“As far as I know I’m the one who asked you first,” I roll my eyes in a joking manner, smile escaping my lips.

“I’d love to have you pick me up but I know the place,” he tells me with a shrug. “Besides, it’s by the tracks. We can head down there together before they start piling up for the day.”

Not wanting to fluster myself anymore, I nod almost eagerly and he exclaims, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Have a good night, bello. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, schatz. Sweet dreams.”

Oh I really am going to have the sweetest dreams ever. Trust me.

#formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #formula one imagine #formula one x oc #formula one smau #f1 fic #f1 imagine #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fic #toto wolff x reader #mercedes amg imagine #formula one fluff #f1 fluff

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