#and then everyone had to place one of their own cards based on that one sentence clue that they thought had like The Same Vibe

[paint-the-walls-white]

I don't share

Pairing: Possessive!König x Fem!Reader

Summary: König doesn't like sharing you, which is exactly why you had been married for almost ten years and none of his comrades knew about you. At least, not until he drunkenly spilled the beans and you showed up the next day with a box of cookies..

Warnings: Bondage! MDom! Doggy! CreamPie! OverStim! Oral(M2F)!

König was very secretive of his personal life on account of his social anxiety. He had been transfered to Task Force 141 for a while and had made pretty good friends with them, but of course, one night TF141 was making fun of him while drinking and in his own drunken haze he blurted out something that didn't go unnoticed,

"If you keep making fun of my wife, I'll kill you. Oh wait, that sounded like a joke; I will actually kill you."

He was very protective and possessive of you, which you didn't mind in the slightest. But he had accidently revealed that he had a wife, and everyone kept pestering him about it.

"I bet she's a strong lass aye? Big as an Ox! Only person that makes sense fer a mountain" Soaps slurred comment made him scoff as König kept sipping on his vodka, aggravated and embarrassed.

"What she do fer a living König? She a construction worker or somethin?"

König looked at Gaz with bewilderment. "A construction worker? where the hell did you get that? Gott.. Nein she's a baker."

Even Ghost was muttering how she probably had massive arms to carry 8 trays at once of protein bars. König kept to himself the rest of the night before returning home to you.

"Hi mein Liebe, I'm home." He pressed a kiss on your forehead, stripping off his tactical vest and mask then kicking off his boots.

"How was your night with the boys? Was it fun?"

He lied down on top of you, burying his face in your chest, crushing your small frame as he huffed annoyed.

"Kept making fun of you...Arschlöcher.. kept sayin you were a big burly lady.."

You snorted, running your fingers through his hair. You told him to ignore them because they didn't know what they were talking about, they were just trying to get a rise out of him.

He sighed, content in your arms as he fell into a drunken sleep on top of you, the crushing pressure more than welcomed.

The next day you decided to surprise König on base with a little gift. The guards of course did not believe that you were his wife so you pulled out the marriage certificate and your spouse ID card to shove it in their face. They were gob smacked as they discovered he had a wife and informed you he was currently at the cantina.

You were directed where to go, a box of chocolate chip cookies in had as you made your way there. Once inside, the place gradually got quiet as you made your way over to your husband giddy as his back faced you.

König was currently berating his friends about making fun of you again until he noticed that they weren't even paying attention, they were looking behind him.

He turned, and there you were, barely meeting his eye level while he was sitting, a box of cookies in hand adorned in a pleated pink skirt and a white tank top with a knit sweater and chunky white heels.

"Surprise! I brought you cookies Liebe!"

The horror that flooded his gaze was unmatched. He quickly wrapped around you to hide you from onlookers, glaring in their direction.

"Mein Liebe, what are you doing here? You are for my eyes only!"

You pouted into him, pushing off of his chest, "I wanted to surprise you," His eyes softened and he huffed, turning to glare at the men at the table who were still gaping in your direction.

"Thas your wife König? The lass is like half your size!" Soap stared on in horror, you could tell what he was thinking about so you hid in his shirt.

"Let's go." He stood, throwing you over his shoulder and flattening your skirt over your ass. Your face was red as you tried to keep the box from being crushed, and you just stared down, completely embarrassed.

"König put me down!" You kicked your legs, trying to fight him off, but he just smacked your ass and carried you out of the cantina, everyone completely silent.

"What the hell just happened." Ghost shrugged at Soaps comment and just kept eating silently.

König had carried you all the way to his quarters, gently placing you on the bed. The blood had rushed to your head so you were bright red.

He knelt, taking off your shoes and rubbing at your sore feet.

"Why did you think this was a good idea mein Liebe? Hmm?"

"I just wanted to bring you a treat.. I thought you'd like seeing me here.."

König sighed, kissing your shin before he looked up at you with his piercing gaze.

"Lamm, I can't keep my eyes off of you, which means neither can other men. I'm the only one that gets to look at you. Du bist mein."

You huffed and averted your gaze, cheeks a bright pink as you handed him a cookie.

"Still, you didn't have to make a scene.." He simply chuckled and stood.

"I know you like it when I toss you around Liebling, you cant fool me. I know you loved the attention."

He caged you in on the bed, prompting you to lie on your back, legs hanging off the edge. You pulled up his mask to reveal his mouth and pressed your lips to his. König groaned softly, slanting his lips against yours, intensifying the kiss.

You moaned and panted into his mouth, whimpering at the flavor of his tongue against yours. He ran a hand up your thigh, squeezing your soft skin in his calloused hands.

He pulled away to attack your neck, sucking and biting at the exposed skin

"K-König.. what if someone sees-!"

"Don't care.. they need to know who you belong to... Du bist mein..."

You squirmed underneath him, far too excited at the attention he was giving you, especially when he slipped a finger under your panties and rubbed at your sloppy folds.

"Scheiße.. du bist so wet for me Liebe.."

You watched with dazed eyes as he slid off the bed onto his knees, dragging you to the edge of the bed where he ripped off your underwear and started sucking on your clit. You immediately grabbed at the fabric of his mask and threw your head back, arching into his mouth as you moaned loudly.

König quickly sunk two fingers into your wet cunt, rubbing at your sensitive walls as he fucked you with his hand. You met his gaze and whimpered as he continued eating you out like a starved man. He moaned against your pussy as you came on his hands and face, plenty of slick being absorbed into the fabric hiding his face.

A soft whine escaped as he cleaned up your mess with his tongue, savoring every drop of your arousal. He stood, sucking his fingers clean as he stared down at your spent form lying limply on the bed.

"Braves Mädchen.."

You lied there, staring at him as you tried to grasp a single thought after that mind blowing orgasm, but you just blushed when you noticed his dick straining against his pants.

"What is it Liebling? You want more? Dirty little slag..."

Gnawing on your lip, you nodded, completely drunk on his attention. The sound of his belt being unbuckled and shucked from his pants immediately made you throb for him.

He bound your wrists with the belt, flipping you on your stomach so you were bent over the side of the bed. You had to stand on your toes, causing your legs to shake at the stretch.

"König.. Please.." He chuckled at your desperate plea as he forced your knees back onto the bed so your hips met his. He rubbed the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing you by swiping over your clit.

You whined, burying your face further into the mattress as the friction of the blanket rubbed against your knees. König sunk the head of his cock into you, eliciting a pitiful moan as he stretched you wide, this fat cock stuffing into you inch by inch.

He groaned softly at the friction, praising you for taking him so well, "It's like you were made for me Mein Liebe, wrapped so fucking tight around me... Scheiße.."

He slowly pulled out then sunk back in, reveling in the feel of your gummy cunt wrapping tight around his meaty shaft. You whined, pressing against him to meet each thrust, tears staining the mattress as you took his cock.

König nearly growled every time you sucked him back in, head thrown back as he pulled your hips against his.

"I don't share Liebling.. You're all mine.. Only I get to see you.. get to fuck you... Scheiße.."

He moaned as you tightly squeezed around him, creaming on his dick. He watched as a ring of white collected at the base of his cock, stuffing it all the way in before spurting thick ropes of cum into your cunt.

He pulled out slowly, his cum leaking down your thighs as you whimpered at the empty feeling. He gently undid the belt around your wrists and pressed a kiss to your forehead through his mask.

"Stay there Liebling, Ill clean you up.."

König stepped away to get a washcloth soaked in warm water, gently cleaning off the arousal that had covered your legs and folds, placing a gently kiss on your ass and putting your underwear, socks and shoes back on for you.

"Now let's get you out of here, I don't need anyone else looking at my beauty.." you just nodded slowly and tried to rise on shaky legs. Clinging to his arm, he walked you back to your car, many onlookers staring in shock and utter horror.

He raised his mask above his nose and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before letting you leave. When you started the car, window still rolled down, he listened intently to the radio, realizing you were listening to his playlist.

Rein, Raus

Rein, Raus

Rein, Raus..

You flushed, turning down the radio and meekly met his gaze, "I like that song.. Reminds me of you.."

His piercing blue eyes told you all you needed to know. When he got home, you wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

Because he was going to make sure you couldn't walk.

#smut #bde #konig smut #konig x reader #konig cod

[ellecdc]

Dude, I read the one where you talked about pregnant reader and you said it'll be a cute fic.... are you really gonna write it!!? Poly moonwater with pregnant reader!?? Will you? Will you? Will you!!?? Please, will you!!!!!???

well.....since you asked so nicely........👀

poly!moonwater x afab fem!reader who finds out she's expecting

CW: mentions of pregnancy, how people get pregnant (nothing discussed in detail, SFW and minors), reader is concerned the boys will leave her, reader wishes to keep the pregnancy, based off a discussion on this post.

Now that you knew, you weren’t sure how you could honestly feel surprised. In fact, now you were kind of surprised that it hadn’t happened sooner. 

For all the claims that wizardingkind makes to be ahead of the curve in comparison to muggles, they don’t exactly have the best contraceptives. 

Potions are fine if you remember to take them, the same can be said about charms, and condoms are a foreign concept to the likes of wizarding society.

You’d been feeling so incredibly exhausted lately, and it had gotten to the point that you couldn’t make it through the day without having at least one nap. It was when you’d actually fallen asleep at the dinner table that Regulus started to fret, though Remus found it terribly funny at the time. 

Then came the aches and pains that never seemed to dull no matter what you did. You’d tried potions, over the counter muggle medications, hot baths, cold showers, lying flat, sitting up – nothing stopped the aches that seemed intent on plaguing you. Remus had even given you full body massages that, whilst absolutely heavenly, did absolutely fuck all. 

“Maybe you’re coming down with something?” He’d queried, holding the back of his hand to your head. “Reg? Can you bring me the thermometer?”

You swore you heard whatever Regulus had been fussing with in the kitchen fall unceremoniously onto the counter in his haste to come over to you.

“Why? Is she poorly?” He asked severely, placing the back of his hand against your head like Remus had, only far more aggressively and to the point that it actually made a slapping sound as it made contact.

“Och, babe! If she wasn’t poorly yet she’ll surely have a concussion now!” Remus chided, pushing Regulus’ hand away and cradling your head protectively to his chest.

Needless to say, the thermometer didn’t pick up a fever either. 

So, when you woke up the next morning and spent most of the day hunched over the toilet bowl, Reg insisted you see a Healer.

Once the Healer started to ask the more...pointed questions, the pieces all started to click together in your mind.

Are you sexually active? Yes.

When was your last menstrual cycle? They weren’t exactly regular so... you supposed it had been late.

Any nausea? Yes.

Fatigue. Uh-huh.

Body or muscle pain? Fuckin’ hells.

So now you were standing outside of yours, Remus', and Regulus’ shared flat with a copy of your test results in your hand wondering what in the buggering fuck you were going to do now.

Both Regulus and Remus were pretty set on not wanting children of their own. They loved children, and they were both really good with children (in their own, very different ways); but with Regulus’ past, his family's reputation, and “the sodding inbreeding, amour; I’d be surprised if it didn’t come out with everything upside down and backwards”, he was sure that it’d be better for everyone if he stayed childless.

And Remus.

Poor, sweet Remus.

Too ashamed of his own affliction to a) pass it onto his own biological child or b) force any child to live with the knowledge that they had a ‘monster’ for a father.

And that was that.

Children just wasn’t in the cards for you three.

Yet here you were...

Suddenly, you weren’t just worried; you were terrified.

They didn’t want this, they never wanted this. They had always been clear about that. They could have been more careful to prevent this, but here you were.

Here you were.

There you stood; outside of your shared flat, unable to bring yourself to open the door.

They were going to leave you; they’d leave you, surely. Yeah?

They didn’t want this.

They wouldn’t want you. 

Fuck.

“For the love of Circe, I’m jus- Salazar’s saggy balls, Y/N!” Regulus said as he stumbled in the doorway, startled after having been in the middle of shouting something over his shoulder only to nearly collide with you. “How long have you been standing out here?”

You stared dumbly at him; you weren’t ready to go inside. You weren’t ready to have this conversation.

Too bad.

“Not long?” You stated in the form of a question. He furrowed his brows and looked you up and down before offering you his hand up the two steps to your doorway. 

“I was just opening the doors and windows; you’re lovely boyfriend tried to make us dinner.” He explained with a fond eyeroll, stepping into the flat and squinting through the smoke flooding the living space.

“Yeah, yeah. Last time I try something new in the kitchen.” Remus muttered as he threw away an entire baking dish.

“What was it supposed to be again, sweetheart?” Regulus asked with a mischievous smirk you knew he picked up from spending too much time with Remus, Sirius, and James.

“Just never you mind, you tosser. Hi dove.” He muttered to Regulus, though his tone changed dramatically once he turned to you, his eyes softening as he took in your form.

“How was your appointment?”

Your appointment? Your appointment. The appointment you just had. The appointment where you found out. The appointment where you were told you were pregnant. That appointment. The appointment you were still holding the slip for. The slip with your results. The slip with your pregnancy test results. The slip with your positive pregnancy test results.

That appointment.

“I-”

And you took off to the bathroom, slammed the door behind you and heaved into the toilet. 

There was a gentle knock on the door as you sat back against the tub with your knees to your chest, trying to catch your breath. “Dove?”

Another knock.

“Okay, we’re coming in.” Came Regulus’ more authoritarian voice through the door before it slowly opened to allow both of them entrance.

Remus had to fold himself a number of times in order to sit on the bathroom floor beside you whilst Reg flushed the toilet (while you flushed in embarrassment) and closed the lid to sit on it, facing you and Remus. 

“Did you get any answers from the healer?” Regulus asked quietly.

You smothered a humourless scoff and nodded your head in the affirmative. 

The boys let you sit there with your head laid back onto the edge of the tub and your eyes closed before Regulus couldn’t seem to handle it anymore.

“And? Are you... okay?”

You took in a deep breath and pulled that paper - now crumpled within your fist - cast a gemino duplication spell on it and handed one to each boy. 

You curled yourself inward and rested your forehead on your knees, reminding yourself to breathe even though you knew these two men now knew that you were expecting, that you were expecting their child. 

It could have been moments, or it could have been hours; but it was Remus who broke the silence.

“Pregnant?” He whispered on an exhale.

You cautiously raised your head to look over at him by your side, noticing that his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

You brought him to tears.

He never wanted this.

He wouldn’t want you.

“You’re really pregnant?” He asked again.

You nodded and swallowed around your gag reflex; unsure whether the nausea was nerves or...pregnancy related.

“You’re...” Reg started, still looking down at the paper in his hands. “You’re... gonna have a baby?” He whispered in awe.

You felt your brows furrow when you heard an emotional chuckle from beside you.

You turned back to see Remus wiping tears away from his eyes as he looked back down at his own paper in front of him.

“We’re gonna have a baby?” Remus corrected, nudging Regulus’ calf with his foot.

“Wait, you... you guys aren’t upset?” You asked urgently. Both boys snapped to attention to look at you in various degrees of worry or horror.

“Upset!?” Remus gawked as Regulus started shaking his head emphatically.

“Why? Why would you be worried of such a thing?”

You shook your own head and looked down at your hands as you began picking at your nailbeds. “Neither of you were ever interested in having kids of your own.” 

“Oh, dovey.” Remus cooed and quickly pulled you into his side. “When was the last time we talked about this, huh? When we first graduated Hogwarts? I think we could manage a kid now, yeah?”

“Or four.” Regulus added, causing you and Remus to straighten up significantly.

“Four!?” You and Remus chorused.

“Since when did you want kids?” You questioned incredulously.

“The moment I saw you hold Harry for the first time.” He answered without hesitation. 

“Ha ha.” Remus taunted. “Mine was watching her shop for Lily’s baby shower.” 

“What!?” You nearly screeched.

Regulus sighed before ultimately moving to sit on the floor on your other side; you knew this was very serious considering he was a notorious germ freak. 

“I was always a little afraid of having kids of my own, you’re right. I mean, you’ve seen the way that Sirius and I turned out, yeah?”

You and Remus scoffed at that.

“I just hated the idea of ever being anything like my parents, because that’s all I know. Or I guess, that was all I knew. But... I think you guys have taught me an awful lot.”

You watched Regulus’ stormy grey eyes as they moved between you and Remus. “You’ve both taught me to slow down, to be more patient, to see the fun in the mess and the burnt food and the change of plans. You’ve taught me that I won’t perish if I sit on the bathroom floor for a minute. And, I think most importantly, you’ve taught me how to love. And when I see how happy Harry is, I realize that’s all a kid really needs, yeah? Love?”

“You... you really want a child? This child?” You asked in a whisper.

Regulus’s face turned heartbroken for a moment. “You’re child? Absolutely, amour. There was never any doubt.”

“I always thought I’d pass on only the worst parts of me to any child.” Remus added, turning your attention to him. “But I find I’m only ever my best self when I’m around the two of you. And any child that’s even a fraction of either of you, well, I’d be one... one lucky man to call them mine.” He whimpered the end of his sentence before breaking out into a sob.

“Oh, Rem.” You murmured empathetically, pulling his larger frame into your side. He chuckled through happy tears as he moved one of his hands tentatively to your abdomen.

“A baby...” Regulus breathed, looking back at the paper in his hands. “We’re really going to have a baby?”

You and Remus exchanged a shy glance, understanding seeming to pass between the two of you before you both turned back to Regulus.

“We’re going to have a baby.” You concurred. 

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin #regulus black #remus lupin x regulus black #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #moonwater #moonseeker #poly!moonwater #poly!moonwater x reader #poly!moonwater x you #poly!moonseeker #poly!moonseeker x reader #poly!moonseeker x you #kid fic #fem!reader #ellecdc fics

[megalony]

Have You Slept

This is an Evan Buckley imagine based on a request and I am hoping to make it into a little series if anyone would like that. Any feedback is always amazing, I really loved writing this one.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz

911 Masterlist

Summary: Evan invites the team to meet his wife and twins who he is very protective over. As one of the boys is autistic and (Y/n) happens to have narcolepsy.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"…It'll be great, Buck you're coming this time right?"

Evan paused a few feet away from the dining table in the station annex. He let his fingers continue to card through his wet locks that were forming into curls, flopping about near his forehead. He'd just had a shower and was ready to gulp down some lunch ready for whenever the bell sounded for their next call out.

He seemed to have missed the first part to whatever conversation was running rampid in the kitchen.

With a small, if confused smile, Evan walked over to the table and sat down opposite Eddie and Hen. He darted his eyes between the pair of them and Bobby and Chimney who were stood in the kitchen, finishing up grabbing plates and cutlery.

Evan had been working at the station for roughly a year now and it had been the best job he'd ever had. This had been the quickest that he had made friends in a new job and felt like he really fitted in with his co-workers. He could call these people his family, Bobby was more of a parent to Evan than his own parents were.

He felt at home with his work mates, unlike the other random jobs he'd had in the past like being a bar tender or the brief stint he had at being a bouncer. He didn't connect with people in those jobs and he didn't feel like he was making a difference like he did working at the fire house. But some things didn't change, like Evan's desire to keep his life separate from his work.

Working at the station made Evan feel excited about each new day on shift and he felt like these people were his family. They were a safe group of people to work alongside and call his friends.

"My uh, my first what?" He leaned forward in his seat and rested his elbows on the table with his hands tangled together.

The way Eddie grinned across at him and the knowing smile on Bobby's face made Evan relax and manage a smile himself. It couldn't be anything bad or somewhat awkward if they were being so relaxed about it.

"We were just talking about the annual summer party the station has every year. It happens to be next week."

"Oh, yeah."

It didn't seem that long ago that they had all been having a barbeque a month or so back.

Evan remembered when he first started at the station they had been throwing a big party here but he didn't feel close enough to anyone to attend. Then there had been the halloween party, the pictures made it look like a successful night, but Evan didn't go to that one either. Finn didn't like halloween so Evan had made sure he had the night off to stay home.

And as for the Christmas party they had, Evan had been on shift that night and he wasn't really bothered about attending so he was happy to work while everyone else went out partying.

They seemed to make any excuse to have a party, not that Evan was complaining. He'd never had parties at any other places he worked at before. This was a pleasant change.

Bobby had talked about them always doing a Christmas party and finding a few extra people to cover the shifts so the 118 could go all out and enjoy the festivities. Evan guessed they would do that for the summer party too, find more staff to cover so as many regular staff as possible could attend.

"Yes we are, and I'm hosting this year." Bobby grinned as he set down a large bowl of lasagne in the middle of the table and took his usual seat next to Evan.

Usually they had as many parties as they could in the station to promote families being around and being included. But they couldn't have a summer party indoors. It was the middle of the summer and that meant they needed to be outside, in the sun and the sweltering heat. It was more of an occasion when a party was at someone's house and Bobby and Athena were always up for hosting parties.

"Are you gonna come to this one?" Hen reached across the table and started to dish up the lasagne onto everyone's plate but her smile was directed at Evan. They always invited him but he hadn't attended one of their parties yet.

It was strange for the team to have someone like Evan in their midst. Someone who was so bubbly, excitable and eager and like a bubble of fun. He was one of them, well and truly, but he was still somewhat distant with the team. They were only just beginning to learn about Evan's private life. They knew he had a turbulent relationship with his parents. They knew he was married and had two kids but Evan didn't talk about them that much.

They had only just met Evan's wife last month and that was a flying visit. Eddie was the only one out of the whole team who knew (Y/n) because he had been to Evan's house and Evan and (Y/n) had taken care of Chris a few times.

"I guess I could swing by for a while."

"Really?"

A bubble of adrenaline sparked up in Evan's chest and he nodded when Hen sounded so enthusiastic and Eddie grinned and gave him a thumbs up. They wanted him there. They really wanted to be around him and interact with him. Evan guessed they really were becoming his family now.

"Can I bring my family with me?" Evan almost felt guilty for asking but if he was going to do this, he wanted his family there with him. He knew parties meant bringing loved ones along but he wanted to be sure, he would never want to turn up and then feel like no one wanted his family around.

Everyone had been kind to (Y/n) when Evan brought her to the station and he was glad she was starting to become friends with the people he classed as his family.

Evan knew his wife wasn't very outgoing so it was nice for her to be around more people.

"Of course you can, kid. Our parties are for everyone, we're all one big family here and you're included in that. Bring whoever you like." Bobby clapped a hand down on Evan's shoulder and nodded at him reassuringly. They all brought their families round, it was a party, an occasion to be together and have fun and games and eat and just be together without the threat of having to rush off on a call.

"I was wondering…" Evan looked down at his plate before he glanced up. This was something he had been wanting to ask everyone and now was a better time than ever. "If you'd all like to come round for dinner, with my family? It'd be easier to get to know them before the party."

It would be a lot easier for everyone if the team could come over to Evan's house and meet (Y/n) and the boys first before he brought them to the party. (Y/n) and Finn didn't last long at parties for various reasons and Cole would be the only one who would be fine to stay for hours.

Evan wanted them all to get along and know each other like Eddie knew (Y/n) and the boys. Evan wanted that relationship with all the team. They were his family now and they meant the world to him.

Evan knew (Y/n) was already excited at the prospect of getting to know the people Evan worked with. She felt like she already knew them from the stories Evan told her when he came home from shift and her first meeting with the team had gone great. It was (Y/n)'s idea for Evan to invite them round for tea one day so they could all get together in a relaxed setting. And Evan wanted that to happen now before the party so at the party, everyone would be more familiar.

"That sounds lovely, you have two boys, don't you?" Hen never wanted to push the subject of family when she was around Evan.

She didn't want to make him feel like he had to open up and talk about his private life if he didn't want to. But when Evan talked to them in a few calm moments, he had said he had two boys with (Y/n). He didn't say much else though, not their names or their age and (Y/n) hadn't mentioned when they saw her a few weeks back.

"Yeah, we've got twins, Cole and Finn. They're four… um, I know you guys won't make a fuss, but just so you know, Finn's autistic. He's non-verbal."

Evan glanced his eyes around the table. Eddie and Chimney knew. Eddie had met the boys before and Chimney was close to Maddie who was close to the boys. He needed to tell them now before they came round and got a little surprise when they met the twins.

"He doesn't speak?" Chimney kept a smile on his face and tried to control his tone so Evan didn't think he was being rude. He didn't know anyone with an autistic child and all of them knew disabilities varied.

"Oh, no he… he won't say words, but he isn't exactly quiet. He babbles. A lot of random noises, and if he wants something he'll just grab you and take you to it. He loves meeting new people, he's taking a liking to Eddie."

Finn didn't say a lot of words. He could say a few things like his name or a mushed up version of random, compiled words. And Finn could understand every word spoken to him, he just couldn't quite talk yet but they were hoping he could start to learn soon. He would make a lot of noises, squealing when he was happy, screaming when he was sad. A lot of high pitch babbling when he was playing or concentrating or just happy.

When he first met Eddie, Finn attached himself to him. He took his hand and guided him into the kitchen and waited patiently for Eddie to make him a drink. Then he followed him around like a little shadow, always wanting to be close and entertained by him.

"I can't wait to meet him."

"Oh… and uh, no one has a problem with dogs, do they?" Evan glanced around the table as a light bulb went off in his head.

He'd almost forgotten about Dodger.

"Wow, full house, twins and a dog?" Bobby pushed his plate away and moved to grab his drink. It had been a while since Bobby had had a full house with Harry going to stay with his dad a lot and May getting ready to move out.

"Dodger's a service dog, for (Y/n) so if he starts barking or circling, don't mind him."

"What kind of service?" Hen could think of at least five different reasons someone would have a service dog and she wouldn't want to presume anything. But since Evan was opening up, she thought it might be good to get him talking to them. (Y/n) hadn't brought her service dog into the station when Evan introduced them, but Hen figured that was because Evan hadn't been on shift those days.

"(Y/n)'s got narcolepsy, random sleep attacks and cataplexy. You're all in for a treat when you come round mine next week."

***

Evan rolled his lips together and tilted his head to the side when he walked into the kitchen. His eyes darted between Dodger and (Y/n) before he slowly walked over to them both.

(Y/n) was stood near the sink, two glasses and two beer bottles in front of her. She looked like she was re-filling the drinks for everyone, but her hands were subtly shaking on the counter and she was stood motionless. When Evan looked down at Dodger, he could see the golden brown Labrador was sat faithfully at her left side. Nudging his nose against her leg and shifting his front feet around like he was tap-dancing.

A jolt ran through (Y/n)'s stomach and her chest tingled when a strong pair of arms bound around her waist. She tilted her head back onto Evan's shoulder and glanced up at him, moving a little so she could catch his jaw with a kiss.

"You spaced, sweetheart." He spoke quietly against the top of her head while his hands danced over her stomach and slipped beneath her shirt to feel her bump.

"Hm," Her head tilted to push into the crook of Evan's neck and she moved her hands to cup his wrists.

With her narcolepsy, (Y/n) had a lot of side effects. Whenever she or Evan told people about her condition, they immediately jumped to the conclusion that she was lazy or just had a lot of naps during the day.

No one seemed to realise the side effects it had. (Y/n) had to schedule her sleep, go to bed at roughly the same time and try to get up at the same time each day to regulate her body clock. She was excessively tired most days. She had random sleep attacks that could be for a few seconds or a few minutes or even longer, they didn't always happen. (Y/n) could go three or five days or even a week or longer without an attack of any length.

It affected her dreams, she had vivid dreams, horrid nightmares, she acted out and lashed out in her sleep and unintentionally rolled onto Evan or hit him by mistake. She got sleep paralysis quite often.

Headaches were continuous. And narcolepsy came with cataplexy, which was where she had sudden loss of muscle control. That could be her jaw slacking, her head dropping forward, her legs going numb and giving out on her. Slurred speech or difficulty focusing or paying attention.

"You okay?" Evan spoke into her hair and leaned his cheek against the top of her head.

"Yeah, didn't last long."

She hadn't spaced out for long. It didn't happen too often that (Y/n) had microsleeps where she would either close her eyes or her eyes would stay open but her mind would shut down for a few seconds. It could last between ten seconds to a few minutes for a microsleep but (Y/n) didn't get them very often.

"Have you slept today?" Evan kept one arm curved tight around (Y/n)'s stomach while he reached across the counter and finished pouring the two glasses of juice (Y/n) had started.

Routines for sleep helped (Y/n) and she tried not to take naps during the day to keep a regular sleep schedule. But now she was pregnant again, she was trying to take at least one small nap during the day. It stopped her feeling so tired and lessened the chances of random sleep attacks. It was hard enough looking after the twins when they weren't at nursery, (Y/n) didn't need to collapse in front of them.

"Not today," She hadn't had chance to take a nap today, not with the boys being pumped up and excited about having people over for dinner. There was a lot for (Y/n) to prepare and get ready and now the team were here, there was no way she could take a power nap now.

(Y/n) slowly turned around in Evan's arms and pressed her hips up against the counter while her hands roamed up and down his chest. She loved the way his hands squeezed her hips and tried to slip beneath her leggings until she shimmied to stop him.

"We have guests- Finn, what are you doing to uncle Eddie?" Her hands scrunched up into Evan's shirt when he stood closer between her legs.

But both their heads turned to look over at the kitchen doorway when Finn appeared. He had a wide grin on his features, obscured by his thumb that he was biting down on. And his other hand was tightly gripping Eddie's hand as he dragged him from the conservatory where they were having dinner and brought him all the way through into the kitchen.

Eddie had his free hand on his hip, but he was happy to be shown around by Finn. The moment Eddie walked through the door, Finn had attached himself to his leg while Cole had gone straight to Bobby because he knew he was the Captain at the station.

Evan leaned closer into (Y/n) and grinned when Finn toddled past him and dragged Eddie behind him like he was a dog on a leash.

He moved towards the fridge and stood in front of it, pointing up at the fridge as he started to make a noise that sounded somewhat like 'wow' over and over.

"What're you after?" Eddie leaned down and scooped Finn up into his arms so he could look into the fridge and find what he clearly wanted. When Finn pointed to the small cartons of apple juice, Eddie held one out towards (Y/n) and waited for a nod of approval before he handed it over to Finn and set him back down to his feet.

Evan held out one of the beer bottles towards Eddie on his way past following after Finn.

"Shall we?" He mumbled quietly in (Y/n)'s ear, keeping his arm tight around her waist as he grabbed the two glasses in one hand while (Y/n) got the other beer bottle. She leaned her back into Evan's chest while Dodger trotted faithfully by her side.

She didn't always take Dodger out with her but she did if Evan wasn't with her. The moment he started working at the fire station, Evan started to worry. (Y/n) was at home alone with twin boys, one of whom was always on his feet and quite a handful. He didn't like the thought of (Y/n) collapsing or hurting herself or falling unconscious with toddlers around and no one to help.

Dodger solved that problem. He could sense (Y/n)'s heartbeat and if her heartbeat dropped, then she was about to fall asleep. He whined and cried and nudged her arm or circled around her legs to get her to sit down. If she dropped or fell, Dodger would try and let her fall on him so he could nudge her onto the floor. And if (Y/n) had a microsleep, he circled around her so if they were in public, people knew something was wrong. Dodger would bark at any stranger that tried to come near or touch (Y/n).

They headed into the conservatory and (Y/n) placed the beer down in front of Bobby before she passed behind him to sit down next to Hen.

"Do you drive the truck too?" Cole leaned back in his seat and looked up from the toy truck in his hand towards Hen who was sat on his right. He was happily wedged between Hen and Chimney while Bobby, Evan and Eddie on the other side of the table. And Finn was happily sat on Evan's knee, although his focus was mainly on Eddie.

"Sometimes, but I normally drive the ambulance."

"Can daddy drive the ambulance?" He looked between Hen and Bobby, waiting patiently for an answer as he had been asking questions since the moment they arrived.

"We don't let your dad drive, he's Mr speedy."

Evan tilted his head up with a proud smile when Cole grinned and murmured "I like daddy's driving." He put his truck down next to him on the table near Chimney and started to eat his dinner again.

"That's only because I don't drive." (Y/n) glanced her head up and bit her lip when Evan's foot glided up her leg and nudged her in the knee in retaliation. The boys weren't used to anyone but Evan and Maddie driving them around, and it was mainly Evan.

If they went out with (Y/n) she had to walk or take the bus and wear her sunflower lanyard just in case she had an episode while they were out. The boys were used to Evan driving so if he cut the corners or went a bit fast, that was a normality to them and they felt safe with Evan because they were used to his driving. (Y/n) couldn't drive, she had never taken lessons and never could. It would be too dangerous.

"So, how far along are you?"

"Five and a half months." (Y/n) absentmindedly smoothed her hand across her abdomen as she smiled across at Hen. She leaned across the table for a piece of garlic bread and held one out to Finn. The four year old was currently stood up on Evan's lap, leaning back into his chest with their heads pressed together. It would make for a lovely photo since Finn was grinning madly.

"So we've only got Buck for another three months then?" Bobby knew Evan would be asking him for annual leave soon. Evan wanted to get his time off sorted out now so it was set in stone. He had to be home for at least two weeks after the baby was born. When (Y/n) had the twins she hadn't been well at all and Evan didn't want that happening again with him not being able to stay home and help her.

"Afraid so."

"I don't know how you're all gonna cope without me."

Evan leaned his head to the left and a soft smile flooded his face when Finn started to kiss his hair. He began making a bopping sound while his hands rested on Evan's shoulders to keep himself stood upright on his dad's lap.

A new line of conversation flooded the air and Evan tried to keep focused and chip in but his eyes kept landing on (Y/n) across the table.

She had her chin resting on her hand with her elbow propped up on the table and her other hand was on her stomach. But it was the dazed look in her eyes that worried him. She wasn't talking either and if she started to drift, she might end up having another microsleep.

He moved his leg beneath the table and rubbed his foot up against her knee to try and grab her attention. The action made (Y/n)'s lips twitch and she lifted her eyes to look at Evan before she tried to look back at Hen for the conversation. She had one of her usual headaches. She had been feeling a lot more drowsy and tired lately and she knew it was because of the baby.

(Y/n) didn't feel so ashamed or embarrassed now to say that she was overly tired or that she needed to start taking naps during the day again. She was pregnant and was already looking after twins.

She always used to feel like she needed excuses to be tired, so people wouldn't think she was lazy. Evan always put her mind at rest. She had a condition that couldn't be cured or helped, it could only be controlled. And Evan never wanted (Y/n) to feel like she had to find excuses to explain the way she felt. Especially not around him.

"Thank you." Evan whispered quietly when Finn kissed his temple and leaned over to hug him. He moved his hands from his dad's shoulders to wrap them around Evan's neck and he giggled when Evan started to sway them from side to side.

Whenever Finn couldn't sleep ever since he was a toddler, Evan used to pace up and down the room swaying him back and forth. Evan barely got whiplash or felt dizzy from the hundreds of times he had gone in circles because the motion was so soothing to Finn.

Evan smiled as Chimney started to go into the long-winded reasoning behind his nickname.

But his smile started to drop when he heard Dodger suddenly bark.

Evan lifted his head and leaned towards Eddie on his left to try and look over the end of the table. Dodger was prancing his weight between his front feet and he started to nudge his nose and mouth against (Y/n)'s thigh. That meant he was sensing (Y/n)'s heartbeat starting to drop.

She was going to fall asleep.

"Sweetheart-" Evan bolted up from his seat when (Y/n)'s head slipped off her hand and dropped forward.

Her arm flopped down onto the table with a loud thud but before her head could land in her dinner, Evan swiftly caught her. He juggled Finn in his left arm, keeping the toddler pinned against his chest while his right hand pressed against (Y/n)'s temple. He leaned his hips into the table and leaned across, trying to stop himself from landing in anyone's dinner.

His thumb swiped across (Y/n)'s hairline while he tensed his elbow to keep his arm straight and hold (Y/n)'s weight up. He could feel her chest digging into the edge of the table, she had gone fully limp which meant this was more than a microsleep like she'd had earlier.

"Wow, hey I've got her. Good catch." Hen placed her hand over Evan's on (Y/n)'s temple and swooped her free arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders so he could carefully reel her back. She leaned (Y/n) back in her chair and held the back of her neck so her head didn't flop back and cause her any neck pain.

Eddie wordlessly reached out to take Finn while Evan scooted round the back of the chairs and moved next to (Y/n)'s chair.

"Good boy." Evan clicked his tongue and pointed until Dodger backed up and sat near the conservatory door just behind (Y/n)'s chair. He knew to move back when Evan was around but he always stayed dutifully close just in case he was still needed.

Evan pushed up on his knees and rubbed one hand up and down (Y/n)'s knee while he cradled the side of her neck in his other hand. He let her head loll to the side so she was facing him and he pressed his fingers over pulse just to check it was still steady and calm.

"Can we do anything?"

"She'll come round in a minute, she's fine."

He leaned over to kiss (Y/n)'s shoulder while he waited. It didn't usually take long for her to come back around. Evan had only had it once where (Y/n) had a sleep attack that lasted half an hour. That was the longest he had ever known (Y/n) to have an attack for and it had scared the daylights out of him.

"Mummy falls asleep but dad always catches her." Cole grinned up at Chimney before he glanced down at the other end of the table.

It was a normality for the twins. Cole was used to seeing his mum space out or see her stumble when her legs gave out from her cataplexy or when she head-dropped frequently like this. He had been brought up to know it was normal for his mum and that it wasn't scary or dangerous and he knew how to help if it happened when they were alone. And Cole always knew his dad would look after (Y/n) when it happened.

Finn didn't seem to take much notice. He had grown up around this happening so it wasn't frightening for him. He would just sit by (Y/n) and wait for it to wear off which was a relief for Evan to know it never scarred Finn or sent him into a meltdown.

"There we go," Evan's thumb brushed across (Y/n)'s cheek and he smiled when a small groan murmured past her lips.

Her head leaned into the palm of his hand and her eyes started to flutter and blink rapidly. A headache burned behind her eyes and spots danced in front of (Y/n)'s eyes when she managed to focus her sights on Evan. She must have dropped off for him to of moved so quickly down in front of her like this.

A shiver rolled down her arm when she felt Hen gently take her left wrist and check her pulse out of habit.

"I- sorry… how long?" (Y/n) tilted her chin down into her chest and tried to clear the fuzzy feeling from her head. It always felt like her head was being filled with air and the blood drained down to her toes. She shakily reached her hand up to hold Evan's wrist and brush her thumb across the back of his hand.

But when she looked over at Eddie, her expression dropped as he checked his watch. "Half an hour."

"Oi! Don't panic her like that." Evan reached behind him and swatted his hand out against Eddie's knee who rose a brow and grinned. He knew (Y/n) couldn't tell how long she had zoned out for and she hated to have an episode in front of friends in case it did last a while and she ruined things. "You were out for a minute, baby. That's all."

Leaning forward, Evan kissed her shoulder before he reached out and grabbed the stool in the corner. He dragged it across so he could sit at the end of the table close to (Y/n). Now she had had one episode, she was liable to have another and he wanted to sit nearby ready for if another happened and he had to catch her again.

Evan had acquired lightning reflexes since being with (Y/n) and he thought of it as his super power, being able to catch her before she fell or her head dropped.

He curved his arm around her waist and gripped her thigh soothingly while (Y/n) held his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Does it happen often?"

"It's not as bad as it used to be… when I had the twins my cataplexy flared up every day." (Y/n) shivered at the thought. She could still remember when she was pregnant with the twins and the amount of times her head would drop or her legs would give way.

She remembered having to call Evan at work and ask him to come home because she'd had an episode and her head had slammed so hard and fast into the dining table that she gave herself a nosebleed that wouldn't stop.

At least with this pregnancy, so far things felt a little easier and her cataplexy wasn't playing up nearly as much.

Eddie leaned back in his chair and looked up at Finn when he started to babble something. The four year old began tapping his palm against his lips, making an odd popping sound that distorted whatever he was trying to say. Usually Finn's sounds weren't related to anything he wanted, he would make happy sounds or mush up words but if he wanted something he would just point.

"What's up mister?" He bounced Finn on his hip until Finn stood up on his thighs and pointed his hand over at Evan and (Y/n). "What… do you want your dad?"

Evan leaned back against (Y/n)'s chair and grinned over at his boy, but the smile faded from his face immediately when Fin started to babble.

"Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Daddy."

"Oh my God," (Y/n) pushed forward in her chair, bracing her hands on the table as she darted her eyes between Finn and Evan. She needed confirmation that she'd just heard that correctly. Did he just say that?

"What?… You said he babbles-"

"Yeah but he's never said my name before." Evan ran his fingers through his hair before he pushed up from the table. "He's never said a proper word- he's said my name!"

Finn didn't speak. That was why Evan had told the team beforehand about Finn being autistic and non-verbal. He could say something that sounded similar to his name which usually came out as 'min-min' when he babbled. He made a lot of strange and happy sounds and 'ow-wow' noises but Finn didn't pronounce or speak.

The doctor had said there was every possible chance that in the future and when he went to a school that focused on speech and language, Finn had a good chance of talking. He might not say full sentences or pronounce properly, but there was a chance of him talking. He could understand words. Finn knew every word that was spoken to him and he could comprehend speech and conversations he just didn't respond.

(Y/n) could feel the tears welling up in her eyes when Evan bolted up from his seat and leaned across the table to take Finn from Eddie.

He settled Finn on his chest and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, unable to stop the broad smile from lighting up his face. He sat back down next to (Y/n) and started tickling Finn who continued to repeat 'daddy' so loud and fast it mushed together and came out all jumbled. But when he started to tap his hand on Evan's shoulder, it just cemented that he knew what he was saying.

He knew who Evan was and how to say his name.

(Y/n) perched her chin on Evan's shoulder and pressed her lips to his neck while she heard the rest of the team cheering. Evan was never going to let her live this down. He wasn't going to let her forget that Finn said his name first. That his first word, his first big achievement, was saying Evan's name.

"Daddy."

"Clever boy."

#evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #imagine #911 imagine #pregnant! reader #evan buckley imagine #pregnancy #buck x reader #buck imagine #have you slept

[loaksky]

— 𝘨𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳

the lowdown — neytiri’s his first love, but you’re his forever…he swears.

the who — jake sully x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 3.2k

the tags & warnings — possible language, she fell first / he fell harder, first love / last love, arguable tension

the notes — based on this request ! ideally this takes place before anyone dies & everyone is happy :) 

masterlist

You and Jake have always been a sticky situation.

Because it didn’t always start with the two of you. At first, he had eyes for someone else, could only bear the thought of being with one person in the whole of Pandora, and that came in the form of the clan’s most important daughter. And you watched from the outskirts, watched as lessons in life turned into lessons of love.

To be frank, you don’t know when the adoration started, when the feelings began to bloom. Your heart was arid territory, but the seeds were planted and the roots were festering.

Maybe it was his dedication to the people, spirit one with the village. He was allegiant to Pandora down to every last blade of grass, every leaf, every insect. And he was kind, offered his heart and full efforts to every endeavor.

You admired him silently, learned to love him quietly, even as the passion between him and Neytiri swelled until it was ready to burst.

You hadn’t really realized that he’d noticed you until one day nestled among the trees.

“Is this where you disappear to everyday?”

Your neck swivels so hard, you almost get whiplash. The project you’re working on, another satchel to replace your own, bunched tight in your fists as your eyes scan the expanse of forest floor wildly.

Jake stands a few meters below, hand resting casually on the hilt of the dagger strapped across his broadening chest.

All that sounds in the quiet between you is the bobbing of your throat as you swallow, eyes wide and unblinking.

“You don’t really talk much, do you?”

You suppose you don’t, not when you’re used to blending into the edges, spending your days lounging around village grounds and finding odd and ends to tend to.

“Nothing?” Jake presses, weight shifting as he peers up at you.

“Not everyday,” is your only response, still unmoving from your perch on the branch.

Jake only nods, conversation coming to a painfully quick lull.

“What are you up to?” he prods, shifting again.

“A bag.”

Your cheeks are warm under his unrelenting gaze, mouth dry because you’ve spent months admiring him from afar, watching him slowly meld into becoming one of the people.

“A bag,” he repeats.

You nod.

He lets out a puff of air that sounds an awful like a humorless laugh and he scratches the back of his neck. He’s folding his cards first this time around, unsure of how to trod such uncertain territory with you.

“See you around, ________,” he says, giving you a playful salute as he peels away.

Your heart skips as he saunters off, timbre of his voice sweet around your name.

Jake continues to find you in that spot often.

Graduated from holding brief conversations from different elevations to propping against adjacent branches enjoying your company, he comes to find out that you're awfully shy. 

Painfully so. But when he makes you laugh, and you timidly smile with full heart, he feels your facade crumbling.

And as chance meetings after duties turn into promises, you can’t help but wonder what's changed. Every moment with you means a moment unspent with his lover. It makes equal parts pride and dread swell in the pit of your stomach.

Whispers about him ripple through the village, that he’s learning quickly, catching onto the way of the people with great ease. There’s talk of a ceremony, of accepting him as one. It makes something sour, bitter, curdle inside of you in the ugliest way possible.  

Because a ceremony means selection and selection means solidifying the relationship he has with the leader’s daughter. It means no more limbo and the time you’ve spent trying to guard your wanting heart is shot to shit. 

It considerably dampens your mood, something that takes Jake a mere glance over your body language to read. 

“Something’s bothering you,” he observes, head tilting to the side. 

You bite the inside of your lip, eyes golden and gooey. They’re the only thing that betrays the stoic expression that colors the carve of your jaw and the curve of your cheekbones. 

It takes every ounce of effort to not visibly melt at the way you carry yourself. 

He doesn’t know when it started with you, how you could have possibly caught his attention when all you did was wash out in the background, bleed through the edges. But you had. Had captured his attention enough for him to second guess such a fleeting barrage of emotions when it came to the future tsahik. 

Neytiri was a force to be reckoned with, but you were a gentle gust of embracing wind. Jake didn’t feel any pressure with you, didn’t feel like he was wearing the skin of someone else. He felt like him. 

“Our time will end,” is all you say. 

It takes him a moment, but he notices the slick of your lashes, the almost imperceptible hiccup. 

His five-fingered hand cradles your chin, and for the briefest of breaths, you want to ease away, want to put as much distance as you could between you and the very one who has the power to nurture and shatter your heart all the same. But something glimmers like liquid gold in Jake’s eyes and you crumple.

“Why is that?” he whispers. “What makes you say so?” 

“Do you think I’m a fool?” you ask.

There is no malice in your tone, only a lingering thread of defeat. 

“Far from it,” Jake answers, nudging you to meet his gaze when your eyes flicker away. “You are the most intelligent and capable person I know.” 

Your breath hitches and you swallow down a petulant rebuttal. 

“I hear what they say about you, Jake Sully,” you say lightly. “They want to make you one of us.” 

A gentle smile twitches upon his lips, something triumphant flickering over his features. 

“You against it?” he asks, eyebrows quirking.

You shake your head, fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide his hand from your face. When you try to pull away, he threads your digits together, tugging you so that you shift closer to him. 

“You do great things for the Omatikaya,” you say. “They are very proud of you.” 

“Are you?” he presses. 

“Am I what?” you ask, voice caught in your throat. 

Jake draws you impossibly closer. You can make out the constellations of blemishes on his face, the smattering of glowing freckles across the expanse of his muscled chest. 

“Are you proud of me?” he wonders. 

It’s a loaded question, one that makes a shiver rip down your spine and your cheeks to warm. 

Of course you were proud of him. You’d watched him from afar for far too long, had seen every accomplishment, every failure. Had seen the spectrum of his emotions, every jubilant moment and bouts of discouragement. 

“Yes,” you answer simply. “Very.” 

The smile that cracks the lush of his mouth makes you swallow hard. 

“Good,” he hums. “I’m glad.”

He’s searching your face, eyes glazed as he takes in all of you before him. The silence is thick, pierceable by the bluntest of edges. When you show no intentions of breaking the quiet, Jake speaks again. 

“Now tell me,” he says, voice rumbling in his chest. “Why is our time ending?” 

Your lips purse and something like annoyance shutters over your pretty face. 

“The tsahik’s daughter has made her intentions with you very clear,” you say, trying to sweeten the acidic words on your tongue. “You cannot waste anymore moments with the likes of me.” 

Jake bites back the widening of his smile, but he can’t help it, not when this encounter solidifies every suspicion he’s had about you and him. 

“You’re right,” he says simply. “Neytiri’s asked her parents for their blessing for us.” 

You try not to let the disdain cloud your features, try to tamp down the twitch of your frown, but you can’t get anything past him, not when Jake’s favorite subject to study is you. 

“I’m sure they are delighted,” you respond, making a move to peel your fingers from his. 

Your chest is tightening and your vision is clouding. 

His grip squeezes and the film of tears that sheen your eyes makes his heart go soft. 

“They do approve,” he adds, pausing to pick his next words carefully. “But…”

Your gaze flicks to meet his again, heart stuttering when you find that his gaze hasn't left your form. His eyes are mapping every one of your features, pausing a moment too long on your lips. 

Your cheeks blaze.

“But?” you fill. 

“I refused,” he replies thoughtfully. 

He could laugh, the way your lips part, brow bones shooting up as your eyes blow wide. 

“Why would you–” 

“My heart belongs to someone else,” he finally admits. “It has for a long time and it was stupid of me to think that I could ignore it.”

“Oh—” Your breath hitches. 

“But I can only act on my heart if she’ll have me,” he says, searching your eyes. 

“Do you think she—” 

Jake breathes out a laugh, tugs you so that your front presses against his, close enough to feel the fan of his breath against your lips, to smell the delicious spice of bathing herbs clinging to his balmy skin.

“You’re torturing me here,” he groans, throwing his head back. 

You see the way his Adam's apple bobs and you fidget in your seat. 

“I—”

“Jesus Christ, love, put me out of my misery and tell me you’ll have me, please.”

You only manage a noise of surprise before his hand cups the back of your neck to guide you forward, lips pressing desperately against yours. His mouth is warm and when he leans into you, you taste the sweetness of berries on his tongue. 

His hands wander, gliding over the smooth expanse of your flesh like he’s committing every curve and edge of your body to his memory. 

“Wait, wait,” you whisper breathlessly. “What about Neytiri? She… She loves you.” 

Jake’s dazed, disoriented because the taste of you makes him far more delirious than he’d expected. 

He presses his forehead against your own. 

“She’s got nothing on you, angel.” 

Everything shifts on its axis after that, but there’s one thing in particular that remains—the seed of doubt that had rooted that sunny day under the canopy of the jungle’s oversized leaves. 

Perhaps you’re being cynical, a little paranoid, but Jake’s yet to claim you before Ewya despite officially becoming one with the people. And you could stomach it, the idea that maybe he’s just prioritizing a smooth shift into life with the clan, but lately he’s been sneaking around, blowing you off. 

You don’t want to give that niggling feeling of insecurity any stock, not when he’s so lovely to you when you two are intertwined, but you happen upon them by chance and you feel stupid. It was silly, really, to expect Jake to cut ties so abruptly when his fickle heart used to all but thrum for the future tsahik. 

They laugh on the embankment, sitting a little too close for comfort.You want to look away, tell yourself that you’re being too much, but he hesitantly tucks a braid behind her ear and your breath hitches in tandem with hers. 

You can’t force yourself to expel the breath in your lungs, eyes locked on their figures like your pupils are tethered. 

You wish you didn’t stick around, wish you’d just continue on in ignorance, because as Jake leans to give Neytiri a closer look at whatever he’s toying with in his hands, the distance starts closing between them. 

They look like they belong together, two bodies that perfectly fuse.

“Oh—” You hadn’t meant to make a sound, wanted to escape quietly, but just as easily as the breadth between the two of them had closed, a chasm forms between their lithe bodies. 

“________?” he calls, voice layered with alarm. 

You turn on your heel, pushing through the curling foliage with blurring vision. 

“Hey, ________, wait!” he calls out, feet splashing from the water as he climbs from where he’d been sitting with his ankles plunged beneath the surface. 

When his footfalls fast approach and his fingers wrap around the width of your forearm, you quickly dash away the pooling tears before turning to face him head on. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispers, cupping your rounded cheeks in his palms. 

His fingertips glide down the length of your neck, brushing over your shoulders as he examines you. 

You shake your head quickly, forcing down the insecurity that bubbles hot like magma under your burning skin. 

“Nothing,” you say, clearing your throat before finally meeting his worried gaze. 

“Oh, come on,” he sighs, pushing the hair from your face to take a better look. “It’s just me, ________. You can tell me the truth.” 

You lick your drying lips before gently breaking away from him. 

“It’s nothing, Jake,” you reassure him with a small smile. “I’m just being silly.”

He opens his mouth to protest, taking a step towards you. 

“Jake Sully!” Tsu’tey’s voice thunders through the forest as he claps a hand down on his comrade’s shoulder.

Jake turns a warning eye towards him, mutters that now isn’t the time as he swats his hands away, but when he turns to face you, you’re gone. 

You feel guilty. 

Guilty because you fear that you’ve blown things way out of proportion, guilty because Jake’s reserved to giving you your space after another failed attempt at coaxing you from your shell. And infinitely so because he holds you close, when your breathing is steady and you drift in and out of sleep. You hear him, like the gentlest of lullabies. 

I love you. 

It haunts you, those three words. And you guess you’re no better than him. The weight of solidifying your union before Ewya is a heavy one, Jake knows this. But such human words weigh the same to him. And you know that to hear such a lofty sentiment rasp from your soft voice is all he could ever want. 

“He is at his wit’s end, you know?” 

You pause your laundering, allowing your loincloths and woven tops to sink back to the shallow bed of the river. When you crane your neck to find the source of the voice, you’re surprised to find Neytiri leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree. 

Your response is delayed. 

“...Huh?” 

“Jake,” she says simply, and your cheeks warm. “You worry him.” 

You turn back to your chore, spine stiffening when something rustles and Neytiri moves to sit next to you. 

“May I?” she asks, reaching for one of your intricately beaded tops. 

“Okay,” you whisper, unable to meet her sharp gaze. 

“I was hurt when he denied my parent’s blessing,” she says casually, like the thought alone doesn’t make your heart ache for the tsahik’s daughter. You can’t help it. “But I wasn’t surprised.” 

Your head snaps up, meeting her eyes reluctantly. 

“When I first brought him back to the village,” she says, wringing the corded fabric. “You caught his eye, but you didn’t even glance his way.” 

And truthfully, you hadn’t. Dreamwalkers were trouble and you had no intention of ever crossing paths with him. But then you began to see more and more of him, began to feel the weight of his presence on the village and you couldn’t help but give into the fall. 

“He started asking about you,” she laughs quietly. “Every time he’d see you. Said that you never paid him any mind no matter how close he got.” 

You roll your lips nervously, watching the way she reaches for another one of your garments and washes with increasing frustration. You almost miss the tears welling in her eyes. 

“I wished for so long that he would let it go, let you go, but you have a hold on him, ________,” she rasps. 

You blink in disbelief, shaky fingers reaching to touch her own. 

Her face tilts towards yours and her grip on the fabric loosens. 

“Jake Sully is a good man,” she whispers. “Don’t waste something good because you are scared. It will not only be a disservice to him or me, but yourself.” 

You swallow, nodding slowly. 

“I’m–” you take in a shuddering breath as your head bows. “I’m sorry.” 

A wet hand comes up to your cheek. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Neytiri coos. “Just be grateful. Be fearless. It is Eywa’s will.” 

Jake almost thinks you’re a vision when he sees you making quick strides towards him. He breaks away from the circle of villagers just as you press yourself into his chest and those not privy to his relationship with you watch with widened eyes. 

“Hi,” he breathes, combing his fingers through your hair. “Hi.” 

You don’t say anything, arms looping around the narrow of his waist as he throws an apologetic look over his shoulder and walks the two of you towards a quiet area outside of the circle. 

“Everything alright?” he asks, trying to peel you away from where you’ve buried your face in his chest.

You mumble something unintelligible, something that makes his ears prick hard to hear, but your cheeks are hot and you aren’t sure if you can handle seeing his softened eyes as you utter the words. 

“What?” he asks, pulling away enough to see the flush across your face. 

“Said Iloveyou,” you murmur. 

He freezes, like his brain is short circuiting when he pieces the words together. 

“What?” 

You steel your nerves, suck a deep breath into your lungs, and find his sunny eyes.

“I love you, Jake,” you say shakily. “I love you and—”

The laugh that leaves him is giddy and you have half the nerve to melt, but he’s kissing you for the first time since that day in the forest and you’re putty in his hands. 

“Wow,” he whispers when you break away to stand on your tiptoes and wind your arms around his neck. “I didn’t think…”

You’re kissing him again, fervently, like you’re trying to make up for lost time and he can’t help the tickling behind his navel or the heat that starts from his toes and burns all the way up his chest. 

Your skin is plush under the pads of his wandering hands and those three words, spoken into the hum of the surrounding jungle is all the confirmation that he needs that it’s you and him forever. 

“Wait, wait,” he sighs breathlessly. “I have–” 

A hand snakes between your bodies, fingers digging into the pouch strapped across his broad chest.

You watch with viscous eyes as he pulls what looks to be a gilded ring, tiny in circumference. Two pieces of thin vine cord through either side, beaded with pearlescent stones and smooth gems. 

“I…” he trails off, scratching the back of his neck as you fall back on the heels of your feet, arms loosening from around his neck to give him the room to hold it up to you. “It’s one of the only things I care about from Earth.” 

Your browbones twitch. 

“The ring’s been in my family for a while,” he says gently. “But it’s probably too small and I know that Na’vi don’t wear things on their fingers and–” 

“It’s beautiful, Jake,” you say softly, palm pressing against his chest. 

He grins, sliding the heirloom up your wrist to rest snugly around the flesh of your bicep.

“Perfect,” he murmurs to himself. 

And when your eyes swing from the gift to meet his gaze, you find him already staring down at you tenderly.

“I don’t…” you trail off, suddenly shy under such intensity. “I don’t have anything for you.” 

Jake barks out a laugh, corner of his lips quirking up in a lopsided smile as he cups your face in his hands and brings his forehead to yours. 

“Don’t need to give me anything,” he says quickly, breaths warm and lips a hairsbreadth from your own. “Just tell me you love me again, that’s enough.” 

Your face is indescribably warm under his cool touch. 

“And maybe another kiss,” he adds coyly, then a hand skims over the small of your back, dangerously close to your tail. “Or more…if you want.” 

neng © 2023

taglist; @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @junieswrlds , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @neteyamo , @fanboyluvr , @mazemymirror , @theycallmesia , @girlpostingsposts, @athenachu , @hiya-itsamber , @morks-watermelon , @sanfransolomitatm , @lovedbychoi

#jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully fluff #avatar #avatar way of water #atwow #avatar the movie #avatar the way of water #avatar 2

[dewdropdinosaur]

Our Mom

LUCIFER x (F) READER

Part One

Summary: You like Lucifer and he likes you. One problem though: what will your 'kids' think? Based off an comment from @river-ride

Warnings: NONE

OMG!!! My lovelies, thank you so much for the support on my last Lucifer fic. Y'all are amazing! Remember, requests are open for lots of fandoms etc. Thank you so much for all of y'alls love and I appreacite you.

For now, enjoy more Lucifer my dears!!

In the bustling corridors of the Hazbin Hotel, where the damned sought refuge from the fiery depths of Hell, Y/N was a beacon of warmth and solace. She was more than just a resident; she was a pillar of support, a confidante, and a pseudo-mother figure to many within those crimson walls.

Among those she touched was Lucifer, the charming and enigmatic ruler of Hell, who found himself inexplicably drawn to her gentle kindness and unwavering compassion. Yet, despite the undeniable spark between them, neither dared to voice the truth lingering in their hearts. Despite being quite close after the battle with Heaven and the rebuilding of the Hotel, neither party could seem to bring themselves to speak their feelings. 

On one hand, Y/N feared two things: that Lucifer could never like a lowly sinner like her and that since she was a pseudo-mother to all of the hotel’s residents…dating the King of Hell may cause a few setbacks in relationships that she desperately did not want. Y/N loved each and every resident in the Hotel, an older demon herself who never had the chance to have her own, everyone under the crimson fading roof became like a child to her. She adored Angel’s compassion even in the midst of despair, she loved playing cards with Husk(who definitely didn’t let her win to see that small smile of hers), time spent chatting and planning with Charlie was always a blast, and yes…even time with Alastor listening to old jazz tunes had found its place in the grand scheme of things. So, her feelings for Lucifer would have to be put on hold indefinitely for this arrangement not to break.

On the other hand, Lucifer the King of Hell himself was a wreck. Every time he saw Y/N, her smile, the way she carried herself with compassion but still headstrong it made his knees buckle and he could have sworn he was back in Heaven. She was like an angel, ironically so. He fully knew of her past, her sins. Yet, she was so willing to help and assist others at a shot of redemption she knew she could never have struck a chord within the lonely ruler of the Underworld. 

However, one fateful evening, as the residents gathered in the grand hall for their routine meeting, tensions simmered beneath the surface. Charlie, along with Husk, Angel Dust, and Alastor, had grown wary of Lucifer's aloof demeanor towards Y/N. They knew of the unspoken affection that brewed between the two, and they were determined to push the devil to confront his feelings(or perishing for daring to even look at Y/N was another option considered by some…ahem…Alastor and the beloved Sassy Narrator) 

As the meeting progressed, Charlie cleared her throat, catching everyone's attention. "It has come to our attention," she began, exchanging knowing glances with the others, "that certain... feelings may be harbored within our midst."

Husk smirked, Angel winked mischievously, and Alastor's grip tightened, his eyes glinting with murderous amusement.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he let out a breathy chuckle, sensing a trap. "And what feelings might those be, my dear? I surely hope no animosity has been brewing."

Charlie gestured subtly to Y/N, who stood by the sidelines, her gaze fixed on her ‘children’ around her. 

"Feelings of a... romantic nature, perhaps?" Charlie smiled but her eyes were nervous. She knew her father well enough that it was indeed time to move on from Lillith and Y/N was no better candidate, doing a better job than Lillith herself ever did. But what if she was wrong and her father really had no interest in her ‘new’ mother. Or the other way around?

A collective murmur swept through the room as the residents exchanged curious glances. Y/N's cheeks flushed crimson, and Lucifer felt a strange warmth spread through his chest at the mention of romance.

Clearing his throat, Alastor leaned forward, his grin widening into a smirk. "Now, now, Lucifer, don't be shy. We all know how dear Y/N is to you. Why, if anything were to happen to her, well..."

The implication hung heavy in the air, and Lucifer's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you threatening me, Alastor?"

Alastor chuckled nonchalantly, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement as he waved his hands in a circular motion around his cane which made ominous shadows appear around Lucifer’s chair. 

"Merely stating the obvious. After all, we wouldn't want anything untoward to happen to our dear Y/N now, would we?"

The tension in the room was palpable as Lucifer's jaw clenched, his gaze flickering between Y/N and the others. Husk flicked his claws open, Angel smirked with a glinting knife in hand, and even Vaggie tilted her head to gesture to her angelic spear. All of them were in agreement… ‘hurt our mom and you will wish you got to die a second time.’ 

 Sensing his inner turmoil, Y/N stepped forward, her voice gentle but firm.

"Lucifer, you don't have to listen to them. Whatever you feel, whatever we feel, it's... it's our choice." 

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as Lucifer met her gaze, his expression softening with an unspoken understanding.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, he stepped forward, his hand reaching out to cup Y/N's cheek tenderly. "Perhaps... perhaps there is truth in what they say," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But know this, my dear Y/N: I would move mountains to keep you safe, to cherish you, for as long as you'll have me."

A soft smile tugged at Y/N's lips as she leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with a newfound sense of courage and hope. "Then let's face whatever comes together," she whispered, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

And as the residents of the Hazbin Hotel looked on, witnessing the delicate dance of love and redemption unfolding before them, they knew that no matter the trials that lay ahead, Y/N and Lucifer would weather the storm together, bound by a love that transcended even the depths of Hell itself. 

And even if something did ever happen…well they would kill the King himself without a second thought and Lucifer knew it. 

#romance #hazbin hotel fandom #vizziepop #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer imagine #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #vaggie hazbin hotel #angel dust #husk hazbin hotel #nifty hazbin hotel #friends to lovers #charlie morningstar #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor

[foreverrandomwritings]

Oral Fixation

Summary: The five times Bradley takes note of your oral fixation. Then the one time he decides to say something to you. (I was watching both Legally Blonde movies when writing this last night so it turned out kind of pink)

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x afab!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, rough deployments, insecurities, alcohol, bars, clubs, sex MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY.

Word count: 3660

Masterlist

One

The first time you met was also coincidentally the first time he noticed your oral fixation. You had been transferred into fightertown from an overseas position. You were a new Psychologist and had been tasked with going around to pretty much everyone on base to inquire about their desire for a therapist. You had found most of the dagger squad in the rec room. Payback, Fanboy and Coyote were all up in the sky and the rest of them were lounging around the room. 

Bradley had turned his head away from the movie on the tv in front of him at the sound of your closed toe pink heels clicking along the tiles of the ground. His eye’s worked their way up from your feet, to your light gray slacks up to the pretty pink silk button up tucked away inside of them. When his eyes finally landed on your face you had been sucking on your cheek. As your eyes connected to his own you let go of your cheek and gave him a sheepish smile. 

“Hi, I’m the new clinical psychologist on base. Vice Admiral Simpson suggested I go around and introduce myself.” You stuck out your hand expectantly. He gave you a smirk wrapping his much larger hand around your own. 

“Bradley Bradshaw, callsign Rooster, Ma’am.” His hand was still clasped with your own, but you didn’t seem to mind. The screams of victory from Phoenix and Bob as they won a game of foosball against Yale and Harvard had your hands separating reluctantly. 

“Here’s my card.” You pulled a stack of them out of your pants pocket. Slipping one out of the pink rubber band they were wrapped in you handed him the small white rectangle. 

“I already have a therapist off base. But is there any way I can call you for dinner?” The boldness of his question had your cheeks heating. You pulled your lip between your teeth, debating how to respond to him. 

“I don’t see why that would be a problem.” You gave him a sweet smile before slipping away from him and working to the other aviators in the room. He watched your every move admiring the way you so easily conversed with the group. He noticed your eyes light up when you got to Hangman and his lips pulled into a frown. He couldn’t hear what you were saying as the two of you were on the other side of the room. 

Jake reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small container of toothpicks. He shook one out and handed it to you with a smirk. You said something to him before passing him one of your cards and taking the toothpick from him. Bradley watched you place the little piece of spearmint wood between your teeth. Your shoulders relaxed as you closed your lips around the object. Then you were walking his way again and he quickly flicked his eyes back to the tv not wanting to get caught staring. But you had felt his eyes on you the whole time you were in the room. 

Two 

The second time he notices your oral fixation is while you are about a month into dating. He had asked you to go to the hard deck with him. It’s a slow night so you are sitting at the bar talking to Penny. Bradley is at a table with Natasha while she goes on about the double date she and Bob just went on the night before. He was only half listening however. His eyes were focused on your form clad in a pair of high waisted light wash ripped skinny jeans and a bright pink cropped tank top. 

Penny had a customer so she had been helping them which had left you alone briefly. You plucked the cherry from the bottom of your glass and pulled the fruit off the stem. You chewed it quickly before slipping the stem into your mouth. You absentmindedly worked the stem around your mouth as you scanned the bar. Your eyes met Bradleys and you gave him a toothy grin showing him the knot you had made proudly. He sent you a wink and a thumbs up. 

“Are you even paying attention to me?” Natasha huffed out at him dramatically. He turned to his best friend sat across from him and gave her an apologetic look. 

“I’m sorry about that. What were you saying about your date?” The female aviator rolled her eyes before continuing her story. He listened more intently this time actually nodding along and conversing with her as she spoke.

“I’m gonna go grab another beer. You want one too?” He asked her as he stood up, their conversation had ended a moment ago and they had just sat in comfortable silence. But Bradley was desperate to be next to you so he could take in the smell of your floral perfume. Natasha grunted in response, handing him the empty bottle she had been peeling the label from. 

“Hi there cherry blossom.” The long nickname had stuck like glue when he had first laid eyes on the pink flowers tattooed across your back. 

“Roos.” You giggled at him, the silver chain with a single delicate pearl around your neck moving along with your chest. 

“Are you drunk?” His eyes took in the knotted stem filled napkin beside you. He knew Penny had to have been doubling the cherries with the amount he saw. 

“Just a little tipsy. Penny makes amazing drinks, Roos.” You punctuated the sentence by taking a sip of your drink loudly. Bradley let out a laugh at your dramatic show, shaking his head playfully. As you pulled the glass away from your lips a few drops fell along your chin. He moved his thumb up quickly, swiping the drops away. He was going to wipe it off on his jeans but you pulled his thumb up to your mouth and sucked his thumb between your lips. You gave it a small bite before pulling your mouth away.

“Feel like taking a walk to the Bronco with me real quick.” He blinked at you slowly as you uttered the words. 

“Uh yea... Yeap. That sounds good.” He all but dragged you out of the bar, his and Natasha’s drinks forgotten. You eagerly pushed him into the backseat before climbing in beside him. He experienced the best blow job of his life that night. 

Three

The third time he noticed your oral fixation was when he had walked into your office on your lunch break. You were sitting at your desk biting off pieces of twizzlers aggressively. You hadn’t noticed Bradley yet so he sat in the doorway admiring the way you looked. Your eyes were narrowed at your paper and your pen gilded across it making harsh marks along it. 

“You’re gonna rip your paper if you press any harder.” Your hand came up to your chest quickly, eyes widening. 

“Bradley, I didn’t hear you come in.” You glanced at your watch, sat upon your wrist and flenched. Eye’s slowly moved from the screen up to your boyfriend. 

“I didn’t realize what time it was. I’m trying to get through some patient notes. I’m so sorry.” You were supposed to meet him in the cafeteria and have lunch with him there. But you had just had a group come back from a rough deployment and had been swamped with paperwork from their sessions. 

“It’s alright. I knew work has been rough lately so I figured I’d bring lunch to you.” He held up the bag that you had worked together to pack the night before.

“What would I do without you?” You asked him as you rolled your chair back standing up and coming around the desk. Bradley closed the door and moved farther into the room. He opened up your cabinet where you had hidden a microwave and popped in your pasta. 

“You’d be left severely unsatisfied.” You hummed at the double meaning sitting down on the couch usually left for patients to sit on. 

“How was work today?” You questioned him sweetly, smoothing out the material of your checkered pink pencil skirt. 

“Went pretty well. We’re going over a new manual for a few tester planes we might get the chance to fly.” You had heard rumors around the base that the aviators were going to get some cool new toys to play with soon. The microwave alerted Bradley, it was done and he pulled the food out of it before closing the cabinet back. 

“Here you go.” You took the food from him eagerly as he held it out for you. Spinning the pasta around on your fork before taking a large bite. You both sat and ate in silence enjoying the other's company and the good food. As you took the last bite of your pasta you held the plastic fork to your lips. The prongs slipped between your lips and you started to slowly gnaw on the material. Your watch furiously buzzed where it was sitting on your wrist. That seemed to jerk you from your thoughts. You looked at the clock hanging on the wall opposite you and groaned. 

“I’ve got a patient coming in five minutes and I still need to pull everything up from our last session. I hate to cut this short but I’m gonna have to kick you out.” Your lips were set in a pout as you gazed at him. He closed the gap between you, giving you a few quick pecks on your lips before pulling away, listening to you whine pathetically as he did. 

“That’s alright pretty girl. I’ve gotta get back to the hangar anyways.” He stood up and grabbed your container before slipping them both into the lunch box. He grabbed your fork as well and went to throw it away, taking note of the teeth marks embedded in the plastic. He’d have to ask you about your constant need for oral stimulation one day. 

Four

The fourth time he notices your oral fixation he kinda blames it on you being drunk. You’re out celebrating your friend's birthday at a club and Bradley had volunteered to be the designated driver that night for you and your three friends. You were going through shots like it was your job. He had sat at a booth in the corner keeping an eye on you guys as well as keeping an eye on your stuff sat on the table top. 

You had bumped into Jake at some point through the night and had conned him into giving you some of his toothpicks. You had then proceeded to chew through all of them in under an hour. Bradley watched you throw away the last one as it had snapped between your teeth with a pout on your lips. You then scanned the crowd quickly before your eyes landed on him and your face lit up. He watched you weave through the sea of dancing bodies quickly before you were sliding into the booth next to him. 

“How can I help you, pretty girl?” Your already warm cheeks warmed even more at the compliment. 

“You’re so handsome, Roos. Have I told you that already?” You hiccuped as you took his hand in your own. 

“Doesn’t matter much if I did. I’ll tell you till I can’t breathe anymore.” You looked at him with hooded eyes as you brought his hand to your mouth and started to work your soft lip gloss coated lips across the rough skin in open mouthed kisses. 

“You’re smearing your lip gloss everywhere cherry blossom.” He didn’t mind that you were getting it on his skin but he knew you’d be a little upset with the way the pink glitter was coating your face. 

“It’s alright.” You threw his arm over your shoulder and sidled up next to him. He groaned as you laid your lips on his neck. You nipped and licked at the skin languidly. 

“Come on, it’s girls night. He’s not here for you to play vampire with.” You pulled away from him slowly at your friend's words. 

“I’m taking this.” You plucked the small black straw from his glass of Coke, before slipping from the booth. You adjusted your glittery pink dress as you stood and wiped your lip gloss off your face with a napkin. You placed the straw between your lips and gave him a wink. 

You shimmed your way between two of your friends and danced with them for a while. Your teeth chewed on the straw as you lost yourself to the songs. Eventually your friends slipped back to the bar and you took the opportunity to slip back to your mustached boyfriend. He was going to playfully scold you for leaving your friends again but you didn’t give him a chance. 

You scooted into the booth and planted your lips against his. He brought one of his hands up to rest against your face as you pulled his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked on it for a moment. He thought briefly about where your straw had gone but his thoughts were cleared as you slipped your tongue between his lips. Drunk you just couldn’t keep your mouth busy enough it seemed. But he wasn’t complaining one bit. 

Five

The fifth time he had noticed your oral fixation had been one of the funniest. You were both covered in sea water sitting inside an ice cream shop that was along the strip of shops on the coast of the beach. You had gotten done with your ice cream cone way before the tall man sat beside you. He had insisted on getting the largest size they had. You told him you were worried about it melting everywhere but he had shooed you off. 

“I’m gonna go get some gum.” You had spotted a gumball machine when you had first walked into the a/c filled building. 

You dug out a few quarters from your purse and inserted them into the slot. You turned it a couple times before lifting the flap. The handful of pink gumballs filled your hand and you hummed in delight. As you sat back at the table with your boyfriend you slipped two gumballs into your mouth. You chewed on them animatedly, occasionally telling him about something funny that had happened in the show you were watching.

“Fuck.” He had been much slower with his ice cream than he expected and it had started to melt all over his hand.

“Oh here let me get that.” He thought you were gonna reach for a napkin but instead you pulled his fingers to your lips. You popped each one into your mouth, licking all the Chocolate and sprinkles off his fingers. He gave you a bewildered look as you nibbled on each finger tip gently. 

“There ya go all clean.” You seemed proud of yourself for the way you cleaned him off. You grabbed a napkin out of the silver napkin holder and wiped his mustache clean as well. 

“Thank you pretty girl.” You gave him a toothy grin before popping another pink ball into your mouth. You continued on with the funny story you were telling him and he continued to eat his ice cream. Neither of you mentioned what just happened. 

Six

The sixth time he noticed your oral fixation was also the time he decided to ask you about it. It had been the morning after a few intense rounds of sex. You had been out of town for a week at a conference and had just gotten back and the night had been passionate. He had woken up before you which wasn’t a surprise, the jet lag from the trip paired with the activities of the prior night had caught up with you quickly. He slipped on  a pair of his shorts he grabbed from the floor. Then he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. His sleepy eyes took in his shirtless form in the mirror and dropped his toothbrush into the sink. 

There were blue, purple, green and red marks all over his chest, neck and arms. Some of them looked like hickies, others looked like teeth marks. His finger came to run across every mark he could see. He was used to the occasional mark after sex with you but this was another level for the two of you. But he didn’t mind one bit. He was actually ecstatic to have the marks splayed along his body. 

His mind flashed to a tiktok he had seen recently about something called an oral fixation. He thought back to all the times he realized your need for oral stimulation. All the dots seemed to connect as he recalled the information from the short video. He decided to do some research before making breakfast for the both of you. He sat downstairs with his laptop for almost an hour taking notes occasionally in a notebook he kept around the house. 

After about an hour his stomach started to rumble and he closed his laptop. He slipped on an old navy crew neck he grabbed from the dryer before starting on the French toast, eggs and bacon. He knew you’d be hungry after your intense session last night so he made plenty of food. He was just getting done with your matcha latte when you made your way into the kitchen. You had on a pink babydoll nightgown and your hair was a mess. 

“Smells good in here.” You told him as a yawn slipped past your lips. He gave you a peck on the lips when you wrapped your arms around his middle and laid your chin on his chest. 

“I’m almost done with your matcha latte. Why don’t you go sit down and eat?” He nodded his head over to the kitchen island. You puckered your lips at him, batting your lashes at him lazily. He placed his lips upon yours once more before you slipped out of his arms. He landed a smack on your ass as you walked away causing you to gasp. 

He was sitting on a stool next to you after a couple of minutes. You moaned as you put the first bite of French toast in your mouth. He felt pride swell in his chest as the thought of you loving his food so much. He had learned everything he knew from his mother so it always made him happy when you showed how much you enjoyed it. The many cookbooks in the pantry held so many recipes that you were more than pleased to try. 

You guys conversed easily, talking about your seperate week. You took another long sip from your latte as you fixed your eyes on him. He was telling you a funny story about something stupid Maverick had said. You hadn’t realized you had zoned out until Bradley laid a hand on your leg. You stopped chewing on the rubber bit wrapped around the tip of your metal straw. Eyes refocusing on the man in front of you. 

“Do you have an oral fixation cherry blossom?” Bradley felt bad saying it so bluntly when you stopped drinking your match latte and pulled the straw out of your mouth. Your eyes focused on the floor beneath your pink slipper clad feet. You played with the hem of your night dress giving him a nonchalant shrug. 

“It’s okay if you do babe. I just gotta know what I can do to help you.” His finger hooked under your chin bringing your face up so he could see it. 

“It’s something that started as a kid. I normally do it unconsciously. Most of the time it’s when I’m stressed out, tired or need something to do.” You had been told by people before how weird it was. You were constantly chewing on random stuff, eating or chewing gum. Sometimes when you were with a partner you liked to give them love bites. It hadn’t crossed your mind however that you hadn’t told Bradley about the quirk. 

“I love you very much and you are valid to need to stimulate yourself. I’m not judging you. I did some research on it this morning while you slept. Just in case you did, I’d understand it better.” He could tell you were feeling uncomfortable thinking he was making fun of you. You were speechless at his words. No one had ever gone out of their way to understand your unique way of needing stimulation. 

“I’m guessing from what I learned this morning that the marks you left on me last night was your need to feel close to me and grounded during the vigorous activities.” You cocked your head to the side looking down at his shirt. You noticed some hickey marks along his neck but those were pretty normal for the pair of you. He reached for the hem of his crew neck and pulled it up. You gasped a hand coming up to your lips as you looked at the marks decorating his tanned skin. 

“Oh Bradley I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You carefully placed a hand on one especially harsh mark on his chest. 

“It doesn’t hurt, pretty girl. I like that you were comfortable enough with me to be able to stimulate yourself the way you needed to.” He gave you a reassuring smile as he dragged his shirt back down. 

“If you want we can go for another round. You can leave some on my back too.” His eyes held mischief as he looked at you.

“I love you so fucking much.” You giggled before launching yourself out of your stool and collided with the solid mass that was your boyfriend. You were on cloud nine from the open communication from the man you were lucky enough to call your own. 

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated. 

Tags(open): @wkndwlff​ @sylviebell​ @eternallyvenus​ @loving-and-dreaming​ @princess76179​ @kmc1989​ 

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw oneshot #rooster imagine #rooster oneshot #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick oneshot #fluff #smut

[miniwheat77]

American Honey. (Alejandro X Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Sex Pollen, fuck or die, unprotected sex, reader getting bullied by Alejandro and his men, poorly translated Spanish, (sorry if I missed any)

I love the way this turned out, I hope you guys love it too! This was a request :) please comment and reblog so that this can reach other places, Alejandro is too good to go unseen 🥵

(Not edited because I’m lazy.)

Truth be told, you weren’t the biggest fan of this place.

You’d been adopted as a child and your adoptive family loved Mexico, which is how you ended up here. It wasn’t always the safest, but they seemed to like it. It was difficult growing up in an English speaking household, school was difficult, the kids there were mean to you, and as you got older, it only got worse.

You decided to join the special forces in the hopes that you’d be tucked away in an office somewhere, as little interactions as possible. But it’s not how everything worked out. You were on the front lines.

Everyone had a cool call sign, or nickname.

But you? You were just Gringa. Nobody liked you, you were different and people didn’t like different. Especially not the special forces.

You ended up on Alejandro’s base by chance. He didn’t want to let you in, but because you were the most skilled out of a lineup, he had no choice. He picked fun at you too alongside everyone else. The only person that was even remotely nice to you was Rudy. He and his wife had you over for dinner a couple times, and he even called you by your name. It was nice when people were kind to you, because it didn’t happen very often.

On more than one occasion, a few of the women on base cornered you in the women’s barracks. It got so bad that you had to be separated. When you brought it up to Alejandro, he told you that you either had to deal with it, or be separate. Of course, when you were given your own room, it only ramped up the harassment you got on a daily basis. Jealous that you were getting special privileges. They found other ways around you not being in the same barracks.

Which is why you walked around with a black eye and a split lip almost every day.

You didn’t want to fight back. They were your people and you refused to lay a finger on your own. You just wished they thought the same. You had just sat down, water bottle in hand. You knew better than to get in line to eat first. They’d always push you to the back.

“Gringa. You have mail, in my office.” Alejandro nods. This was unusual, usually he’d just bring it to you. You stood up and followed after him. Despite the fact that he harassed you too, you always obeyed him. You did right by him even when he didn’t reciprocate. He sits down at his desk, sliding a box out of his drawer. “I need to see what’s inside, that’s why I brought you in here.” You nod your head, pulling out your pocket knife and cutting the box open. You open it up, there’s a small black bag inside along with a letter. You unfold the letter, reading the inside.

“Hi Honey, we miss you so much. We wanted to let you know we’ve been thinking about adoption once again, you’ll have to give us a call when you get the chance. Your real grandfather from America sent this for you along with a small card on the inside. We thought it was sweet because you’re our American Honey. We hope you have better luck than you’ve been having. Keep your head up and don’t let them get to you too much.

Love, mom and dad.”

You pull the black bag open, sliding the contents into your hand. It’s a bunch of Honey Sticks. You smile, finally understanding the joke she’s made, American Honey. You take the card out that she mentioned and open it up. Inside is a photo of a woman, but you don’t really understand.

“Hello, I know you probably don’t know me, but I’ve always wanted to meet you. Your mother was a little young when she found out she was pregnant with you. She was a wild child, I’m sure you’re a wild child just like she was. I adored you from the day I met you, and when I found out your mom was giving you up, it shattered me. I hope I’ll get to meet you one day, I never did get the chance for anymore grandkids. You’re my only granddaughter. Here is some American Blueberry Honey from our farm, it’s all organic and it’s very sweet like I imagine you are. I’m writing this to you because your mom passed away unexpectedly. I felt you deserved to see her. I’m attaching a couple photos of her, and my address and phone number in case you ever want to call or write back. I’d really appreciate it if you did.”

You smile, looking down at the photos. For a minute, you forget where you are. You forget all about your Colonel’s judgmental eyes. You put the card back into the envelope, passing it to your Colonel. He has to look over everything. He doesn’t trust you.

You slide a couple of the honey sticks from the bag, looking over them.

“You were adopted Gringa?” He asks. You nod your head. He nods, “where were you born?” He asks. You shrug. “Somewhere in the states.”

He takes the bag from you, looking over it before passing it back to you. “Don’t forget we’re going on a mission tomorrow, everyone else needs rest from the last mission. You’re my only available soldier.” You nod your head. You always got left behind on missions. “Yes sir.” You stand up, picking up the box of stuff you’d just gotten. “Goodnight Gringa.” You nod your head. You were really starting to hate that fucking nickname.

—

The next day, you were dressed and ready. It was still early, you’d already eaten breakfast. You sat patiently outside of Alejandro’s office, waiting for his orders.

When the time came for you to leave, you finally got a breakdown of the mission.

“It’s nothing big, that’s why it’s just the two of us. Narcos have some other kind of operation going that we need to bust up, it’s probably only 5-6 men. We’re going to move slow, try to take them out from afar.” You nod your head. The both of you got on the helicopter, and it was quite a long ride. It was silent. Alejandro sat near the pilot and you sat in the back, admiring the view of the forest. It was dense. The green went on for miles. You couldn’t help but smile down at the peacefulness of it all.

“Something funny Gringa?” Alejandro asks. You can barely hear him, luckily the headset you’ve got on makes it easier. “No sir. Just admiring the views.” You turn your head back toward the window. You can hear Alejandro laugh quietly.

When you arrived a few miles away from the operation, you geared up completely. You had your sniper rifles, handguns, assault rifles, and plenty of ammo. You started hiking through the dense forest. Side by side. You were aware of your surroundings, ready for anything. You stayed calm despite the intense situation. You had a basic idea of what might be waiting for you, but you never knew what you could be walking into. Alejandro poked fun at you, but he actually really liked you. You were calm and collected. Fast on your feet. You were skilled when it came to any kind of combat. He knows he neglects you as a soldier. He sees the way they treat you around base and knows that he should intervene.

He doesn’t know exactly why he doesn’t.

When you get close enough to see everything going on, you get set up. Propping your rifles up to get a good view of all of them. “Shoot fast, Gringa. Can’t risk any of them getting away.” You nod your head, lining up your crosshairs with them.

You don’t wait for his orders, the moment one is lined up in your sights, you fire, kicking the empty bullet casing out of the gun and lining up for another shot. When the both of you finish, you’ve only killed 4. “Others must be in the building. Go ahead, I’ll cover you.” He nods. “Yes sir.” You stand up, leaving your rifle behind and drawing your assault rifle out. You hike down toward the building, keeping yourself covered with trees and walking as quietly as possible. It was a little difficult with the vegetation from the forest but you still did your best. Alejandro watches you in the scope of his rifle, watching ahead of you and around you. He hopes this mission will go smoothly. As you get closer to the building, he feels unsettled. “Go slow gringa, something doesn’t seem right.” He says into his radio. “Yes sir.” You reply. You slow your speed, eyes scanning everything in front of you. Your senses are heightened because you’re nervous, you’re sure you’ll hear anything.

Unfortunately for you, it’s too late. You hear the soft patter of something hitting the ground in front of you, and only have a split second to react, covering your face with your arms and stepping back as the grenade explodes.

Alejandro watches in horror as you’re thrown back, dirt and debris fly into the air, a cloud of smoke covering his vision. “Shit!” He growls. He stands up, rushing to get to you. He sees a few men appearing out of the tree line, firing at each them. He rushes to you, kneeling next to you. “Gringa?” He asks.

You don’t know where you are. The darkness is nice, but it only lasts for a few seconds before you hear Alejandro’s gunshots. You’re being shaken by him, but the ringing in your ears overrides everything else. “Gringa? Can you hear me?” He asks. He shakes you again, seeing your eyes move. “Hey, you’re going to be okay.” He breathes. He’s looking over you, he can see a few wounds from Shrapnel, but he doesn’t see them anywhere serious. “Y/N!” He snaps in your face. You close your eyes tightly. Sitting up. “I’m fine.” You breathe. He helps you up and you flinch at the loud ringing. It starts to fade as you look around. It’s quiet now.

As peaceful as it was on the helicopter.

When the ringing fades out completely, you wish you could just lay there, stare up at the sky and enjoy the peace for just a second. What you’d give for it.

“Come on. We have to keep moving.” He breathes.

You move in quickly to sweep the building, it’s an old cement building, but the inside is actually pretty nice. It has to be for how long everyone stays out here. Months on end, making whatever drug their boss tells them to. You notice a few bottles of something red. You can tell it isn’t blood because of the translucent consistency. But it’s odd. You make your way back outside, noticing the work stations are all full of the same red liquid. There a few large barrels of it sitting outside. “The hell is this?” You ask aloud.

Alejandro is standing near you, and neither of you expect to be splashed with the liquid. You flinch away, turning and raising your guns at your assailant.

His maniacal laughter is what really scares you. He’s got a gunshot wound on his side, he’s not going anywhere. He’s leaned up against the barrel, plastic cup in his hand. “Es una droga sexual. ¡Ahora ambos están infectados!” He laughs again.

Alejandro moves in quick, he’s seething. “What did he say?” You ask. The man looks at you, eyes wide. He’s got an evil smile on his face. “estas con una gringa? ella no sabe español?” He laughs. Alejandro shakes his head. “¿Cuál es la droga?!” He yells. You flinch away at his tone of voice. “Vas a tener que chingarte a tu gringa linda, dejarla embarazada.” He purrs. “¿Qué significa eso?” Alejandro growls. Grasping the man by the lapels and slamming him back into the barrel. “La cura es el sexo, no hay otra. Buena suerte hermano.” He smirks. His teeth are red from his blood.

“No eres hermano mío, solo un cobarde.” You flinch as Alejandro raises his pistol up, firing into the man’s head. His body slumps forward and Alejandro stands up, letting out a frustrated sigh. “What did he say? What is this?” You ask.

He rubs his face in frustration.

“It’s a sex drug.”

You look confused. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a sex drug, but it’s in the early stages of development, that’s why we’ve never heard of it before. He said..” he pauses. “If the infected doesn’t have sex, they’ll die.”

“And what he splashed on us.. was that-?” You look at him. He nods his head. You turn away from him. “There’s no other cure?” You ask. “No. Not something we’ll find in time.”

“Well. Suppose we should head back. Say our goodbye’s.”

His turns quickly to look at you. “What?” He asks.

You look at him. “What?”

“Y/N.. we can get through this if…” he swallows hard. You raise your eyebrows. “What? If what?” You cross your arms. Looking at him. “If I have sex with you? Are you out of your mind?” Alejandro’s assumptions have clearly stuck a nerve. “You’re loco if you think I want to have sex with you!”

“But you’d rather die? I’ll have to say Gringa, that’s pretty harsh.” He smiles. “That right there is exactly why I’d rather die.” You seethe. He looks confused. “My goddamn name is Y/N.” You growl. He steps closer to you. “Watch your tone with me.” He growls. “I’m going to die anyways.” You shake your head. “What, you’ll let us both die over me calling you Gringa? Really?” He breathes.

“It’s not just you.” You shake your head. “It’s everyone.” You voice is low and aggressive. “They call me gringa. I’m last to eat, last to shower, last to be chosen for missions. I haven’t had dinner in a week. They exclude me, treat me like shit. They corner me in the goddamn bathroom and beat the holy hell out of me. And my Colonel? The one who’s supposed to give a shit? Doesn’t say a word when he sees the bruises they’ve left. You had no right to call that man a coward. You’re the biggest coward I’ve ever met.” You spit your words at him like they’re laced with venom. Like they’ll drop him dead in a few seconds. He sighs. Everything you’ve said is true. He’s mistreated you.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes. “Querida…” he trails off. “I know I’ve been bad to you. But I can change it.” He breathes. “No.” You shake your head. “Make yourself comfortable because I’m not changing my mind.” You breathe. You shove passed him, walking into the building. You go into one of the rooms, sitting down on the bed. You take your shoes off, pulling the blanket off. Walking back outside. You walk into the woods a little more, laying the blanket out. “What are you doing?” He asks. “Enjoying the peace and quiet.” You breathe. He nods. “Mind if I join you?” He asks. You shrug. He sighs, sitting down next to you. You’re laying on your back, looking up at the sky. “Cloudy.” He mumbles. “Yeah. Hopefully it’ll rain.” You smile. “I like when you smile.” He laughs. “Why?” You look at him. “Because you don’t do it often. Earlier in the helicopter, I was admiring you.” He laughs. You roll your eyes. “Also, when you saw that letter from your family. I like their nickname for you, American Honey.” He smiles. You can’t help but laugh at this. “If this is you trying to get me to have sex with you, it’s not going to work. He rolls his eyes. “I can be a gentleman without the intention of trying to have sex with you, Mocosa.” He laughs. “I’m serious. Why do they call you that?” He smiles. “They said I was too sweet. As a kid I knew no stranger, so they called me American Honey.” You look down. “American Honey? I don’t think I’ve ever had any.” He shrugs. You think for a second, sighing.

You grasp hold of your pocket on your jacket, the Velcro making a tearing sound as you pull it open, you slide out a few of the honey sticks, passing one to him. “It’s blueberry honey.” You nod. He takes it from you. “You have to bite the top to split the film open.”

You bite the top of yours, feeling the honey drip into your mouth. You can’t help but smile as you watch Alejandro struggle to open his. You laugh. Reaching your hand out. “Here.” You say. He passes it to you and you turn it to the other side, biting it open for him. “Thank you.” He smiles. You can feel the effects of the drug beginning to kick in. You want to kick yourself for the way you’re looking at him. He’s getting more and more attractive by the minute. You hear a groan leave his lips. “This is really good.” He breathes. “It is really sweet.” He licks his fingers where it’s dribbled onto them. You have to force yourself to look away. The tightening in your lower stomach becoming harder and harder to ignore. “Here, have another.” You pass him the other. “Open it for me, Cariño?” He smiles. You nod. You bit it open, flinching as it pops into your mouth. Alejandro freezes up, having to force himself to look away from your lips, and how sweet they’re looking. He’s felt the drug working but has ignored the way his pants have gotten tight. He takes the stick of honey from you, and watches as you lay back.

The minutes tick by and his heart is racing, the arousal he feels is almost unbearable. You can barely focus on anything, his heavy breathing, the smell of him. It’s too much. “I’m sorry.” He breathes. “I’ve got to get away from you, or I won’t be able to stop myself.” He breathes. Just as he stands up, you’re quick to yelp. “Wait!” You breathe, sitting up. He turns to look at you, confusion written all over his face. You’ve shed your jacket and he didn’t realize it, but he can see how hard your nipples are through your shirt. “What?” He asks. “You.. you don’t have to.” You breathe. You’ve got your knees pressed together. Tightening your thighs to try and ease the ache you feel between them. He steps toward you, and he can see the fire burning in your eyes. You don’t move away or tell him to stop. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head. He lowers himself to his knees, thankful for the blanket beneath him. He moves himself between your legs, licking his bottom lip as he leans into you. His lips brush over yours lightly. Hips presses into yours. He moans out when you rock your hips ip into him, desperate for some kind of relief. He presses his lips to yours, he kisses you hard.

He can taste the honey on your tongue, and he’s addicted right there. You moan into his lips when he rocks his hips into yours. He pulls away, but only to attach his lips to your jawline, moving down to your throat. He’s biting at the skin, feeling your heart beat as he runs his tongue along your jugular vein. He pulls your shirt up and over your head, helping you remove your bra with it. He attaches his lips to one of your nipples, sucking at it gently, feeling you buck your hips up into him. He can’t help smile into you. He doesn’t want to neglect you, moving to attach his lips to other. You wrap a hand in his hair, whining out at the attention he’s giving you. “Alejandro- want you so bad.” You breathe. “You’ll have me, ser paciente.” You nod your head. He kisses lower, over your chest and belly, tugging your pants down your legs. You take a deep breath as he glides his hands down your hips, kissing over your belly button. He looks up at you, dipping down to press a kiss against your clit. Cock twitching at the mewl you let out. You whine, raising your hips into him. Desperate for attention. He pushes your hips down, wrapping his arms around your thighs to hold you still. His tongue gliding up through your folds has a sigh leaving your lips. He moans into.

“Taste so fuckin sweet..” he mutters, chuckling into you. “You’ve got the perfect nickname, you’re just as fucking sweet.” He growls, burying his face into you, starting his assault on your clit. You blush, looking away. You try to squirm out of his grasp but he holds you tight. You clutch the blanket beneath you, moaning out as you look up at the sky. You can feel the sting from the shrapnel still buried in your skin, but you’re overwhelmed. The peacefulness and the way he makes you feel overrides any pain you’ve felt.

You’re getting louder with each flick of his tongue and he knows you’re getting close, but he doesn’t want you to cum like this. He pulls away, feeling you whine at the loss of friction. “Relax, I’ll give your pussy the attention it needs.” He smiles, unbuckling his belt.

He wipes his face, moving his hips up to yours. “You sure you want this?” He asks. You nod your head eagerly. He pushes the tip of his cock up against your entrance and you bite your lip. You close your eyes as he sinks into you, clutching the blankets hard. The pleasure is intensified from the drug you’ve taken and the both of you nearly cum right there, moaning out. “Fucking hell you feel good.” He growls, moving to kiss you. “You taste yourself on me? Hm?” He smirks, starting to thrust his hips into you. He’s starting at a brutal pace and you can’t keep it together as he fucks you.

“You taste sweet yeah? Sweeter than that honey.” He smiles. His belt rattles as he thrusts into you. The sound is distracting you. The thought of what it is, him fucking into you so good. You can’t keep it together. “I’m gonna cum-“ you whimper. “Already?” He chuckles. He’s taunting you. You nod your head. “Yes!” You moan. He lifts your thighs up, thrusting deeper, trying to get a better angle on you. “Rub your clit for me.” He breathes. You nod your head, still obeying him. You rub circles over yourself, and he fuels the burning fire with his words.

“Yes- such a good girl. Always doing what you’re told. Yeah, rub that sweet pussy for me baby.” He growls. He can feel his own high approaching pathetically fast. “I’m- I-“ he laughs at your lack of words, feeling your legs shake as he pushes you into your orgasm. You cry out, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes as you shut them tightly. You soak his cargo pants, and he growls as he feels your arousal on him. He doesn’t stop fucking you, even with you being overwhelmed. He’s chasing his own high. He leans down to kiss you again, desperate for the taste of sweetness he knows he’ll get from you. He kisses you hard, feeling your tongue move against his own. You moan into his lips, wrapping your legs around his back.

“Give it to me, Colonel.” You look him in the eyes. He growls, thrusting harder if it’s possible. “Beg for it.” He breathes. “Please-“ you gasp. “Please cum inside me, I’ve been good for you. Please give it to me!” You whine. His heart is pounding, cock twitching as he gets closer and closer to his high. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He gasps. “I’m gonna give it to you, Cariño. Trust me.” He groans. He has a death grip on your thighs. When he reaches his high, he’s sensitive before he even finishes. It’s the most intense orgasm he’s ever had by far. He holds your hips tightly into him, taking slow deep thrusts to ride out his high.

“Oh fuck-“ he gasps. He slides out of you, watching his filth spill out of your pussy. The relief you feel is immediate. Hearts are no longer racing. He lays next to you on the blanket, panting as he comes down from his high, looking up at the sky. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.” He breathes, looking at you. “You weren’t.” You blush.

Just then, your radio’s go off.

“Colonel, do you copy?”

“Colonel do you copy? Exfil is still about an hour out, it’s going to be dark soon.”

“We’re on our way.” He says into the radio.

He helps you up. You both redress yourselves quickly.

“We’ve got to make quick work of this, got a lighter?” He asks. You pass him the one you keep on you at all times and he picks up a stick, lighting it on fire. He throws it into a barrel of liquid and you both run away quickly.

The barrel explodes and the whole area around it bursts into flames. You both admire it for a second. “Let’s go.” He grasps your hand, pulling you along. He hands you back you lighter.

It doesn’t take too long to reach exfil, but the wetness you feel from Alejandro’s cum is a little uncomfortable and he can tell by the way you keep shifting yourself on the seat in the helicopter, sending you a wink every once in a while. You turn your head away from him each time, blushing.

—

When you get back, you go straight to the infirmary for your wounds to be treated from the explosion. While you’re recovering, Alejandro has a quick meeting with his soldiers.

“I want everyone to know that Y/N isn’t going anywhere. I want you all to treat her the same as you treat everyone else. She saved my life today and she didn’t have to. If I see anyone mistreating her from this moment forward, you will be discharged from my base. Do I make myself clear?” His voice is stern.

“Yes sir!” They all say in unison. “Thank you! Go back to eating.” He calls.

He makes his way to the infirmary to check on you. Unsure of what to do with these newfound feelings that he has for you, and what in the hell he’s supposed to do if you’re pregnant.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #alejandro vargas #alejandro x reader #alejandro cod

[azure-cherie]

20 things I've learned as i turn 20

My birthday is in a few days though i like to keep it private I'd like to share some of my thoughts 😁 the things I've learned are mostly based off my experiences

Individuality: one can be a loner in life but that doesn't guarantee a thing about individuality, to learn it one has to be in uncomfortable places and do uncomfortable things only to realise oh that is my thing and i must pursue , though we keep acquiring things from here and there all our lives but it's our zest that makes it ours .

Don't be afraid to move alone, stay alone or do things alone , I'm still working on it and the most important part is people are so busy they don't even care what you are doing, only a pathetic person jokes about you being lonely and doing things on your own

You are watching self help but are you applying it ?? With so much information available one can often get lost in comparison and be confused about thing , to try things is a better way to decide whether we should listen to someone , most of the times people don't even know what they're saying always ask yourself before following someone's advice .

Only give someone something when you are genuinely having an excess in your life , give from what you have extra , or else you'll end up feeling empty and sad because you gave them from your part, for example : there's a friends birthday and you don't have excess to give them a gift just skip the party or give them something hand made like cards , gifts or bake cookies , if they really love you they will appreciate you and only such people are worth having around , same with your time , only make time for others when you have done everything for yourself.

Don't fall into the trap , boundaries are tangible, don't be like " oh I had such a good day my best friend is crying but my boundary is to not care i live my good life" shut up this girl right here was there for you when you needed someone we often lose our way then the people around us need to bring us to the right path , you need people around you remember. Please do this only if the other person does the same for you .

It's okay to not like anyone around you : Darwin said survival of the fittest and we mostly stay in competition with people , so it's okay to not like everyone don't ghost them because you find one thing annoying, they have good things you can look out for , focus on the good .

Give yourself and others the space : don't seem needy or desperate because you had a fight with someone or just a problem with yourself, perspectives come with time , you and they need it if it's meant to be things will be alright

It's okay to lose things , we get tired of things and people and situations and it's fine if it's worth you can fight for it but if you are staying only because of attachment it doesn't take long till it wears off , get ready for the new chapter of your life

It's okay to win , personally I realised I have been afraid of winning and that's why I don't. when you are young you can be programmed to feel like a loser but know that life keeps changing you can win if you believe it .

You don't need to fix everything about you : ahh please please don't give up on good things just because you thing you are yet to heal , no you're good go for it if you feel like it , moreover something's are just not worth it to fix or heal , simple changes can accomodate.

People who love you will accommodate for you and it goes both ways , you have to belive in the power of you and everyone around you and sometimes bend when you need to

What is not worth bending is your values , when you know something is right do what is right regardless , be the right person to yourself by doing what is right to you .

Don't worry about being a good or bad person , it doesn't matter in the long run , a narcissist thinks they're the best and an anxious person thinks they're the worst but we know what's the truth , sometimes in life you have to do bad things but that doesn't make you a bad person , you need to survive in this world things aren't cheap we suffer from capitalism and mind games , do what you need to get a good life for you and your closed ones , we'll talk about the bad deeds in hell and even god will see what you have done and why you have done it , intentions matter .

Keep a balance of experiences and consequences, don't lose out of an experience because you worried about the consequences too much and don't do something that you will regret because you didn't think about the consequences of your actions.

Never tell one person everything, don't vent to everyone , the more you vent the more possibility you have of your personal information getting leaked as a gossip, if you tell different people about different issues you can know when they betray you and dismiss the rumour and cut them off and know that some people are just better at advice in different sectors like you wouldn't ask a logical person who's invested in financial topics about your emotional turmoil it will only disappoint.

Keep your spiritual practices private , don't do something because everyone is , people like to mock , put bad energy or evil eye on perfectly fine things , it's only protection to keep your practices private or anonymous on the internet . Do some spiritual practice because you feel connected to it not because everyone is , don't follow the crowd look within yourself. This applies to deity work , magic or manifestation.

Learn about money and finances and investment, Acquire skills it's only right when you know enough about these things as they create the foundation of your life here, learn about it young so you don't suffer when older . learn everything that you can don't be afraid to be a first timer one day you'll be a pro at it and you'll thank yourself that you were a first timer , try everything you can .

Don't worry about defining yourself, you're constantly changing and that's the beauty of you , you can know who you are and you have to relearn who you are in every era of life .

Be happy for what your parents have done and forgive for what they didn't, this can be hard but don't let them be another obstacle for you to not reach your highest self it's best to forgive and move on , it's also their First time as a person learning about living.

Love yourself unconditionally, last but not the least the most important, forgive yourself, accept the ways you have changed , do things for yourself, practice all 5 love languages on yourself, give yourself the love .

I have learnt so much more and hope you do too , love you so much 🤍

Thanks for reading<33

#😋 hope you enjoy reading this #lessons learned #manifestation #spirituality #self help

[harrysfolklore]

grammys night

not my best but i needed to post something for the grammys, congrats for the wins harry ilysm

gif credits to @chriswevans

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Adrenaline and anxiety ran through Harry's veins as he sat on his table, the night had been excellent for him so far, winning the first award they announced and delivering an outstanding performance that he was very proud of despite all.

However, you knew that his nerves were through the roof before the most important moment of the night was coming up. The Album of the Year category.

You had endless conversations with Harry about how he made an amazing album and he didn't need any awards or nominations to validate that he's a great singer and songwriter, and you were still going to be proud of him no matter what, but he still felt pressured and nervous when it came to award shows as prestigious as the Grammys.

"Baby," you quietly spoke, making him look up at you after spending minutes staring into his clammy hands on his lap, "It's going to be okay," you smiled softly grabbing his hand and caressing his knuckles, "Even if you don't win it, you still owned the night and I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," Harry simply said, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand for a moment, "For being here and for everything, really."

"Oh don't mind me, I only came with you because I knew Taylor Swift was going to be here." you joked, and the small laugh he let out made your own never cool down.

"I love you," he stared right into your eyes, as if you were the only ones in the room, "I know I've said it more times that I can count, but none of this would be possible without you."

"I love you too, baby. More than you can imagine."

And despite not being a fan of PDA, he connected your lips with his in a small kiss, a kiss you knew he needed.

"It's show time." you heard Jeff say when the lights went down again and Trevor Noah came on stage to announce the most important award of the night.

Harry's eyes were fixed on your hands holding his own on your lap, his nerves not allowing him to put his gaze anywhere else.

The fans the recording academy invited to talk about the artists nominated for album of the year stood in a line behind Trevor, and you couldn't help but smile tenderly at the old lady that adored Harry just as much as you did.

"And the Grammy goes to..." Trevor spoke into the mic, and when he opened the card and moved to stand in front of Harry's fan, you knew the award was his,

"It's you, baby!" you whisper-yelled into his ear, and he turned his head to give you a confused look.

"What do you-" and before he could even finish his sentence his name was being called out and the trumpets from Music for a Sushi Restaurant filled the place.

He covered his face and shook his head in disbelief, and you could only let small happy tears come out of your eyes.

"Baby! You did it! It's yours!" you said as he stood up in shock and wrapped his arms around you, swaying you for a moment before grabbing your face with both of his hands and placing a firm kiss to your lips, the cameras capturing the moment that you knew would make his fans go insane.

"I love you so much." he pecked your lips one final time before he got on stage with Tyler and Tom.

With his Grammy in hand, Harry stood in front of the mic, "Shit!" he begun, "I mean—shit! Man—um—I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone.” he took a breath, "I think on nights like tonight, it’s obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such thing as best in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these.”

You looked at him in complete awe, you weren't looking at a Harry Styles winning album of the year at the Grammys, you were looking at the love of your life accomplishing one of his biggest dreams.

"I would like to thank my family for always supporting me, my collaborators for creating this record with me," he paused to smile, "And I would love to thank the amazing woman who's here with me tonight, my girlfriend. Thank your being my muse and my biggest supporter, I love you."

And as if it was the first sentence you ever learned, you instantly mouthed an "I love you" back to him, unaware of the cameras catching your reactions.

"This is really, really kind. I'm so grateful. This doesn't happen to people like me very often. Thank you."

After Tyler and Tom took the mic to say their speeches, the three of them were off the stage.

"How do you feel?" he asked you as soon as he approached you, wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

"I'll give you a sappy speech later, right now I just really want to kiss my Grammy winner boyfriend."

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#harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles story #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles drabble #harry styles request #harry styles fic rec #harry styles au #harry styles headcanon #harry styles fluff #harrysfolklore #harry styles fic #harry styles fan fic #1k #hsfolklore archive

[yaksha-lover]

Hey! How are you doing? I don’t know how dark you’re willing to go, but the angst brainrot is back and I guess I just need somewhere to ramble.

Sometimes I like to think about how the prefect’s super chill reactions to… well everything, could just be a carefully crafted facade. I mean, the students at NRC are kinda awful people, and I don’t doubt any weakness would be swarmed like vultures to a fresh corpse. And a magicless, naive person like Yuu would be an extremely easy target. So, instead they just bury all the pain and pretend everything is okay. They’re not crying for their family and home late into the night.

The way that kind of repression would just build up over the year and slowly cause resentment towards everyone, deserved or not, is just delicious. Pretending to be everyone’s friend, to be the kind and welcoming prefect while coming to hate the other students’ guts. The eventual snap after one misplaced comment or one more mess to deal with, when the house of cards all falls down.

Maybe Rollo was right.

Idk, just got a lot of thoughts. Mainly based off of how Rook calls the prefect “Trickster” and the prologue almost framed Yuu in a strategist role. Thoughts?

Honestly, it would make a lot of sense. As much as we love the boys, most of them would be pretty terrible to be around and are very selfish and/or mean (with some exceptions, but that’s still a good majority of the school).

I like the idea that Yuu does start out genuinely wanting to help everyone and find people to be friends with, to try and make this experience of being trapped in another world even somewhat bearable.

At first it’s okay that Ace is a jerk sometimes, because he comes around once you get to know him. It’s fine that Riddle nitpicks and punishes the three of you because in the end, he’s trying his best to get better, to heal from his past. It’s alright that Leona is unrepentant and mean, because he has things he’s been dealing with, and you need to be understanding of his pain. Even when Azul tricks your friends and later you, when you almost lose your Ramshackle, the one place you’ve had to call home, you try to have patience, because he’s got his own issues as well, he has his reasons for things.

But somewhere along the way, you’ve stopped caring for their excuses. Their trauma is real, but so is yours. Even after everything you’ve done to try and help them, you don’t doubt for a moment that none of them would run to your rescue. That they wouldn’t take any opportunity to step on and over you if it meant getting closer to their goals. Because at the end of the day, none of them cared, no matter how much you wanted to believe it wasn’t true.

Breaking down isn’t an option - not when everyone is out for themselves, when your feelings would surely only be ridiculed at best and taken advantage of at worst. Even more than that, you’re a guest at this school. You never earned your way here like the other students and you’re magicless; the only reason you’re even here are extenuating circumstances. The headmage isn’t any more loyal than the housewardens - if any of them had a problem with you, it wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine he’d throw you out onto the street the second you became an inconvenience that was too much work to handle. So you keep quiet, even when all you want is to tell off everyone around you.

The only housewarden to ever seem to really give a damn about you is Vil, but by the time you get close with him, it’s already too late. Maybe if you met him first, if you’d been less scorned, you could’ve forgiven his little digs at your lacklustre presence and imperfection. He’d done much to try and make up for it after all, helping you out with Ramshackle and voicing his appreciation for you. It was more than you could say for anyone else, but it still isn’t enough. Vil’s sweetness can’t counteract the bitter taste that’s been brewing for months, so you can’t bring yourself to forgive him despite everything.

It’s not his fault, but it’s never anyone’s fault. It’s all of them, chipping away at your sanity little by little.

It’s okay that you can never fall asleep anymore, kept awake by memories of never ending fights and catastrophes to deal with. It’s okay that the same people you’ve helped barely regard you as more than something worth pitying. It’s okay that you’re reminded every day that no effort is being put towards getting you away from this hellhole and back home.

It’s all okay, until it’s not. Until Yuu finally reaches their breaking point, and starts to question if anyone is truly worth saving at this school.

#twst x reader #twst yuu #twst #twisted wonderland

[topguncortez]

Baby On Board- B.Floyd 

pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x wife!reader word count: 6k (its a long one) type: angst warnings: top gun shit, child birth, near death experiences, cursing. synopsis: being placed on a top secret mission weeks before his wife's due date was not what Lt. Floyd had imagined married life would be like.

note: thank you so much for 600! it's crazy how much this blog has grown in such little time! keep sending in requests!

She was his highschool sweetheart. From the moment Bob laid eyes on Y/N their freshman year of highschool, even with braces and acne and a ridiculous haircut, he knew that she was going to be his wife. She was perfect, smart, popular, kind to everyone and he was. . . well he was just Bob. A dork, a nerd, sweet and kind and too pure for this world. He could remember how badly he was sweating and shaking as he approached her lunch table, some cheesy valentine’s day card in his hand and asked her to the school dance. He thought he would get laughed at, but his heart filled with even more love as she pulled out a valentine of her own to give to him. 

Bob had shocked everyone when he decided to go into the navy, including Y/N. They had talked about their futures, and Bob had briefly mentioned going into the navy, but he wasn't certain. So when he came home and told her he enlisted, she was shocked but proud of him. Her heart broke when he left for boot camp, and would wait by the phone or mailbox for a call or letter from him. When he came home with a buzzed cut, a bouquet of flowers and a ring, they both knew they didn’t want to be apart from each other. They got married in a small ceremony in his parents backyard, it was like a fairytale for both of them. 

Both Bob and Y/N had agreed that they wanted kids. They weren’t ever too keen on actively trying for kids, but they weren’t doing anything to actively prevent it either. At first, they were going to let nature do its thing, agreeing that it’ll happen when it happens. But after two years of nothing, they knew that it was time for some intervention. It broke Bob’s heart when the doctor told them it was going to be nearly impossible for them to have a baby of their own. He watched as the light in her eyes diminished. She told him that she was okay, that it would be fine, but Bob could hear her crying in the bathroom when she thought he was asleep. 

Bob stood by her side though, never leaving her. He held her hand in doctors appointments, when they had decided on doing hormonal treatments, Bob was always on track with timing, and keeping track of everything. When he noticed that her body had started to change, and her mood was different and her period was late, he went out and bought every kind of pregnancy test there was to get. He sat by her side on the bed as they waited for the timer to go off, and was the first to look at the results. 

Seven months later, Bob and Y/N were glaring at each other from across the kitchen. Her belly had popped some weeks ago, and she was now supporting a nice round bump. She looked on the verge of tears as Bob had explained the document that was sitting in between the two of them. He was being called back to TOPGUN, something that he never thought would happen. The first time around, they had been married for only about a year, and Bob was excited to be chosen to go. He got permission to take his wife with him, and that was all he needed. Now, things have changed.

Y/N was not thrilled at all about Bob being called back. There was no other information on the document other than time and place to be. They had arranged on base housing for the both of them, but they both knew that Y/N couldn’t leave Lemoore. It wasn’t a good idea for her to be far away from her doctor, not when time was ticking away closer to her due date. 

“Why can’t they send someone else?” Y/N asked, running a hand through her hair, “Can you tell them I’m pregnant?” 

“Did,” Bob sighed, “Technically the baby isn’t born yet so I don’t get any sort of paternity leave. I would still only get 21 days anyway.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, of course he didn't, “There’s nothing you can do?” 

“It’s non negotiable. You can come with-” 

“Come with!?  Bob, look at me, I’m the size of a water buffalo-“ 

“No you’re not-“ 

“Shut up,” Y/N said, getting angry. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and turned on her heel and left the kitchen in tears. Bob sighed, knowing the majority of this was caused by pregnancy hormones but it still didn’t make it any easier. He knew that there was a possibility of him getting a last minute deployment or special detachment, like this one, that could take him away from Y/N and his unborn child. He just didn’t think it would ever come true. Bob grabbed the sheet of paper and read it over again. Doing the math in his head, he should be back in time before Y/N has their baby, but it still didn’t bring him any comfort.

He pushed himself from his spot, walking to the freezer to get an orange crush popsicle for Y/N, and then walked down the hall. He found her sitting on their shared bed, looking out the window. Bob sat down next to her and offered her the popsicle. 

“Thanks,” She murmured. 

“I know it’s not ideal-” 

“No, it’s not,” Y/N sniffled as she opened up her popsicle. 

“You could come with. . .” 

“Bob, I’m seven months pregnant. I don’t think it would be a good idea.” 

“It’s also not a good idea to have you here alone either,” Bob said and Y/N sighed, “At least, if you’re in Miramar with me, I’d be there in a matter of minutes if something happened,” He grabbed her free hand and intertwined their fingers, “Up here, yeah we are alone, but you’ll be even more alone if something happened and I’m seven hours away. It would bring peace of mind to me, if you came with me.” 

“Well,” Y/N sighed, “Looks like we’re both going back to TOPGUN.” 

Bob smiled and leaned in to kiss her cheek, and then slid off the bed to kneel in front of her, both hands going to her growing belly. It always made her giggle at how Bob’s large hands could cover her whole bump, but it also brought her a sense of security. 

“You, my little one, can’t make any surprise appearances while we are there, you hear me? You stay right in here for the next six weeks and we won’t have an issue,” Bob said to her belly, and got a small kick in return, “I think they understood me,” He said looking up at you with his lopsided grin. 

“I’m sure they did.” 

— — —

It was almost too hot to do anything, even by the ocean in Miramar. Y/N had told herself when she got pregnant, she didn’t want to be pregnant during the hot months, but living in California, it was always hot. The drive down had been awful, having to stop almost every hour so she could pee, or being constantly uncomfortable. Bob felt bad, knowing that she was only doing this for him, but he let her complain as much as she wanted to. Bob had heard that everyone was gathering at the Hard Deck, a local bar that he and Y/N had frequented the first time around at TOPGUN. Y/N had opted not to go with him, as she wanted to just stay in the air conditioning of their tiny on base house. 

Y/N had done what she could to make herself comfortable while being in Miramar. She went grocery shopping, to the beach a couple times, met with one of the OB’s on base (which Bob had gotten out of training early to do), but for the most part she kept a low profile, trying to stay as cool as she possibly could in the southern california heat. Her favorite part of the day was when Bob would come home, and lay his head in her lap and tell their child all about his day. His eyes always lit up as he talked about the simulations and the dogfighting. He would get so animated about it, it was adorable. 

Y/N knew bits and pieces about the mission. She knew it was dangerous, that there was a lot at stake. Bob didn’t want to worry her too much at this stage in her pregnancy, but she had kind of gathered that them all being called back meant that it was serious. She tried not to think of a world where Bob Floyd wasn’t alive and she hated it. But Bob reassured her as much as he possibly could that he would make it back to her. 

The team didn’t know much about Robert Floyd, other than he was a WSO and Phoenix’s back seater. He was quiet, kept to himself, and would speed off after showering at the end of the day. Phoenix had tried to pry some information out of him, but got nothing more than his full name, where he was from, and where he was currently stationed. Bob didn’t talk much about himself, and Phoenix kind of liked that. He was different from the usual cocky, arrogant (hangman) pilots she was used to working with. 

“So Bob, what do you plan on doing when you get out of here?” Phoenix had asked him, as they were headed to the trial run zone. It was day four of doing the trial course, and no one had successfully completed it. 

“I bet he is going to have himself a cold glass of ice water,” Coyote joked and Bob rolled his eyes. 

“Oh shut it,” Phoenix laughed, “I bet he’ll go home and watch the office or something.” 

“I prefer ‘friends’ over the office,” Bob said, thinking of his wife’s favorite show. 

“Alright, dagger 1 easing in, time starting in 3, 2, 1,” Phoenix said as she started into the simulation. 

Bob looked down at his radar, watching as Phoenix and Coyote made the twists and turns of the simulation, feeling his body jostle from side to side. It never got easier, the more that they ran the course, it seemed to somehow get worse. His body felt heavier, his lungs felt like they would explode. He would find bruises on his sides from hitting the side of the cockpit at such forces. Bob eyed their time, seeing that they were keeping up a good speed, until he caught another plane on the radar. 

“Oh no, it’s Maverick!” Bob said. 

“What?! Where is he!?” Phoenix called out, and Bob looked around the clear canopy into the sky, trying to see if he could spot Maverick. 

“Lost him in the sun!” Bob called out, “Coyote, you see him!?” 

“Man, he’s on my tail,” Coyote said, “Line it up, Bob.” 

“Roger!” Bob said, controlling his laser to line up the shot, except he couldn’t get control of it. He swore under his breath as he tried but it was no use, “Dead eye! I can’t get it to lock!” 

“Dropping in blind then,” Coyote said, and tried to line up the laser the best he could. 

Bob could feel when Phoenix shifted the trajectory of the jet, sending them into a steep incline upward. Bob fought against the Gs being pushed on his body as he tried to keep his eyes open and himself conscious. Maverick had somehow shown back up, and stimulated a dogfight with them, until they realized they had lost comms with Coyote. He had gone into g-loc, and Maverick moved quickly to line up a shot, sending a loud buzzing sound into his cockpit. Bob took a sigh in relief as they got Coyote back, but the relief was short-lived when Maverick called out the bird strike. 

“We’re on fire!” Bob called out, looking to see the left engine ablaze. 

“Extinguishing!” Phoenix said, flipping a switch, “Lost hydraulics, losing altitude, I-I can’t control it!” 

“Right engine on fire! We’re gonna burn in!” Bob’s voice was filled with panic, as he felt their jet start to drop from the sky. 

“You have to eject!” Maverick called, “Phoenix, Bob! Eject, eject, eject!” 

“Fuck! Eject, eject, eject!” Phoenix yelled out, as she hit the button to eject both of them. Bob covered his head as the canopy shot off, and he felt himself get pushed out of the cockpit. The next thing he felt was his feet hitting the ground. 

— — — 

The last thing any military wife ever wants is a call from the hospital saying that their husband had been injured. When Y/N arrived at the hospital, frantic with tears in her eyes, a nurse had guided her down to the room her husband was in. She felt the confused looks and stares of the aviators in the hallway as she passed by them on the way to Bob’s room. She had even heard one of them ask who she was and another say they didn’t know. Bob was busy flipping through the tv channels when she got to his room, he looked over at her and smiled weakly. 

“Hey baby,” Bob said and Y/N rushed to his side, as Bob engulfed her in a hug, “Shh, I’m okay, I’m okay.” He soothed her, while rubbing her back as she cried as she sat on his bed. 

“Jesus Christ Robert, don’t ever scare me like that again,” Y/N said, pulling away from him, and wiping her tears, “What the hell happened?” 

“Bird Strike, lost control of the jet, had to eject. Nothing but a couple bruises and a sore tailbone,” Bob smiled, and Y/N shook her head, “Are you okay?” 

“You’re asking me that?” 

“You’re the pregnant one.” 

“You’re the one who just ejected from a plane at 500 feet in the air.” 

“Touche,” Bob said, as there was a knock on the door. Y/N turned her head to see a brunette woman peeking her head in with a shy smile on her face. 

“The guys said you had company, I hope you don’t mind me coming to check on you?” The woman said, looking between the two of her. 

Bob looked at you and you smiled, “No, not at all,” He said, “This is Phoenix, the main driver,” Bob said introducing the two of them, “Phoenix this is my wife, Y/N.” 

“Oh- wow, Bob never-” 

“Stealth pilot,” Y/N smiled and held her hand out to greet Phoenix, “It’s nice to meet you. He’s told me all about you. You’re pretty cool from what it sounds like.” 

“You flatter me,” Phoenix said with a slight blush, “How far along?” 

“Eight months. Not exactly my ideal location to be in, but,” Y/N shrugged and Bob smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her to sit back down on the bed, “How are you doing? I can’t imagine what it was like.” 

“I’m okay, a little shaken up. I’m more concerned that Bob has hidden you away from us and made me suffer with the rest of the testosterone freaks out there.” Phoenix said and sat down in a chair by the bed. 

Bob knew it was no use hiding Y/N from Phoenix, so he had told his pilot all about his wife, how they met, how he proposed, their wedding, their house, and even about their baby. Phoenix was surprised at how talkative Bob could be when he was talking about something he loved. She knew he could rattle off information about an F-18 and missiles and flight trajectory, but when it came to talking about his life, Phoenix was surprised. He had hardly let Y/N get a word in and Phoenix would laugh at how Y/N just looked at him. 

Y/N would’ve liked it if Bob would’ve been able to stay home after having to eject from his plane, but the mission was still a go. It was only three days after the bird strike that he was packing his bags and headed to get on the carrier. Y/N had driven him to base, much to his dismay since he didn’t want her driving with her belly in the way. She tried to hide her tears as she put the car in park and looked at the daunting aircraft carrier. 

“It’s only three days,” Bob said, looking at his hands, “Three days and-and I come home to you and our baby.” He placed his hand on her bump, feeling their little one move around. 

“I know,” Y/N said, “Swear to God, if you don’t-”

“I will,” Bob said, cutting her off. He leaned over the console, holding her face in his hands and kissed her. It took her breath away, the type of kiss that is supposed to be a constant reminder. It left her lips tingling as he pulled back, “I’ll see you in three days.” Y/N nodded as Bob got out of the car. She saw Phoenix waiting next to her car and sent her a small smile and wave. Phoenix gave her a nod in response and hugged Bob. 

Y/N let out a shaky breath as she watched the two of them walk towards the ship, “Three days little one, no sudden movement for three days.” 

— — — 

Y/N tried to keep herself distracted but she couldn’t help but stare at the clock, knowing that any second her husband’s plane would be taking off from the middle of the pacific ocean and would be flying towards a certain death. She knows that he promised to come home, but nothing is ever promised in this life. Y/N looked down at the hot mug of tea in front of her and felt a stray tear run down her cheek. She had gotten to the point in her pregnancy where she didn’t even know she was crying until the tear hit her shirt. She sniffled and placed her hand on her belly, just as she felt a cramping sensation. 

“No. . .” She mumbled to herself and let out a shaky breath, “Please stop, don’t do this.” Y/N had been feeling contractions since Bob left. She knew that braxton hicks were common and had been feeling those since month seven, but now, these felt different. These felt stronger and she could feel her stomach dropping. 

Y/N pushed herself away from the counter and slowly started making her way towards her bedroom. Laying down usually helped subside the contractions and the pelvic pain. Y/N paused as she felt the warmth of a liquid rushing down her legs as she stood in the hallway. She closed her eyes and clutched her stomach, hoping that maybe, just maybe this was all a dream and she had just peed herself in the hallway, rather than her water breaking. But when she opened her eyes at the feeling of a contraction, she knew it was very much real. 

“No, no, no,” She felt tears in her eyes as she moved down the hallway towards the kitchen where she had left her phone. Her first instinct was to dial Bob’s number, which she did, but when it went straight to voicemail, she panicked even more. She gripped the counter as another contraction ripped through her body. This wasn’t supposed to be like this. This was not how this was supposed to happen. The next number she dialed was Penny’s, which the older woman had given to her after getting to know her at Iceman’s funeral. 

“Hello?” Penny’s voice sounded through the receiver. 

“Penny, I-I need your help,” Y/N’s voice cracked, “My water broke.” 

“Oh my god,” Penny said, and Y/N could hear her get up and grab her keys, “Stay where you are, I am on my way. If you need to push, do it, don’t try and fight it.” 

“I can’t have this baby alone!” Y/N cried. 

“I know, I know, I’m on my way, just breathe okay,” Penny said and Y/N nodded. 

Penny arrived after a short time, and helped Y/N get to the on base hospital. They had admitted her right away, and Y/N was thankful that Penny had decided to stay by her side. Penny had once been in Y/N’s shoes. Her now ex-husband had been on deployment when Amelia was born, and Penny was by herself in the delivery room, no family, no friends, just her and the nurses and doctor. Penny wasn’t going to leave Y/N alone, knowing very well she would’ve wanted someone to stay with her. 

“Breathe through it, there ya go,” Penny said as she dabbed at the sweat collecting on Y/N’s forehead, “I left a message for Maverick and Hondo. I called in a favor from an old friend to hopefully contact the ship and get a message to Admiral Simpson.” 

“I can’t have this baby without him,” Y/N cried, out of pure exhaustion. Even though her water broke, she was still going on hour eight of labor, waiting for her cervix to dilate and the baby to drop down even more. The nurses all shared a look, and Penny could read their faces. She had heard them say something to the doctor about being worried about maternal exhaustion. 

“I know you don’t, but you might have to,” Penny said, and Y/N shook her head as another contraction hit. Y/N groaned in pain as she gripped the side rail, her knuckles turning white. Penny grabbed the white bucket next to her and placed it in front of her incase Y/N was sick again. 

When Y/N felt her body relax, she let out a small cry and leaned back against the bed. Penny had hoped that the call she put in with her father would somehow reach the ship. She wished that Iceman was still alive, knowing he’d stop at nothing to get Bob from the ship and straight to the hospital. But all Penny could do was hold Y/N’s hand and wipe the sweat from her forehead. Y/N’s mind was wandering as she thought of the mission Bob was on, and prayed that he was alive and not dead somewhere in a European mountain range. 

— — — 

Life or death, Bob had seen the flash of death right in front of his eyes as Phoenix had navigated them through Coffin Corner. He felt his heart sink when he watched Maverick’s plane get shot down, and he felt like his heart stopped hearing Rooster go down too. Bob did what he could to comfort Phoenix as they flew back to the ship, placing a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off. They hadn’t been on the carrier long, when they heard that Rooster’s beacon had been turned back on, and Hangman had been instructed to go on the flight mission to bring them back.  

The second Maverick buzzed by the tower, the tarmac broke out in cheer, as he landed and both of them had a large smile on their faces. Bob and Phoenix rushed over to Rooster, hugging him tightly. Bob had a bright smile on his face as he celebrated with his team. 

“Lt Floyd!?” A voice called out for him. Bob turned around to see Admiral Simpson running towards him. 

“Yes sir?” Bob asked, his heart racing slightly. 

“You need to come with us right away, it’s a family emergency.” 

Bob felt light headed as the Admiral’s words hit his ears. Bob had just escaped death with his team and now he felt a sudden rush of doom. Fanboy and Payback shared a look, confused on what the admiral had just said. As far as anyone knew, Bob didn’t have any family, Bob was a lone ranger. But the look on Phoenix’s face said otherwise. 

“Go!” Phoenix said, pushing him towards the admiral. Bob stumbled on his feet but took off sprinting, trying not to let his mind go to the worse case scenario. Phoenix looked over her shoulder and noticed her fellow aviators looking at her confused, and sighed, “He’s married, and has a wife, who’s very pregnant.” 

Hondo was waiting for Bob when he entered the tower, and relayed the information he had gathered from Admiral Bates. Bob couldn’t digest most of it, but what he gathered was that his wife was in labor and he was stuck on an aircraft carrier in the middle of nowhere after almost dying. Hondo directed him to the admiral’s office where they gave Bob some privacy to call his wife. Bob sat down in the chair, his hands shaking as he picked up the phone and dialed her number, something he memorized.

“Bob, thank god,” Penny answered. 

“H-hey Penny, how is she?” Bob asked, trying to bite back tears. 

“She’s getting checked by the nurses right now, I stepped out when I saw you call. She’s,” Penny sighed and looked down at her shoes, “They are worried about maternal exhaustion. She’s in hour 12 of labor, eight centimeters dilated and trying to fight it. She says she won’t do this without you.” 

“She has too,” Bob said, feeling a tear run down his cheek, “She has to do this. And I swear to god, she will never have to do this alone again. I need to talk to her.” 

“I know, sweetheart,” Penny said, and walked back into the room. Her heart broke seeing Y/N in such pain as she laid on her side. The nurse gave Penny a look, and she nodded, “Y/N, it’s Bob. I’m putting him on speaker.” 

“Oh my god, Bob?” Y/N asked, her voice wavering in pain. Bob felt his heart break as he bit back a sob. He buried his face into his flight suit before speaking up. 

“Hi babe,” Bob said, “This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.” 

“No, not at all,” She sniffed, “God, why can’t you be here. Why now? They’ve been stubborn this whole time, but now?” 

“I know,” He laughed, “But love, you have to stop trying to fight it, okay, you need to let them help you. It’ll only make things harder for you, for the baby.” 

“Bob, I can’t do it,” Y/N protested and closed her eyes, feeling a contraction. Bob heard her suck in a breath and let out a whimper in pain. Penny grabbed her hand and helped her breathe through it. Bob wished so badly he could be there with her, all he ever wanted to do was be a father and he is completely missing it. 

“She’s at ten,” A nurse said, “She keeps putting it off, she won’t be able to push.” 

“Baby, you need to listen to them,” Bob said, sitting up straighter in his seat, “You need to do this okay. I’m right here, Penny is there. You need to bring our baby into the world.” 

“No!” Y/N sobbed and Penny felt tears in her own eyes, “No! I won’t! I want to go home, let me go home!” 

“You’re elevating your heart rate, Y/N,” Her nurse said, walking over to the bed and looking at the EEG reading, “If this continues we’ll have to do a c-section. Y/N, it’s time to push.” 

Bob felt his heart stop. That was the absolutely last thing he wanted her to have to do. It was bad enough she was in labor by herself, he didn’t want to have her go under the knife alone. The nurses and the midwife started to move around, getting everything set up for delivery. Penny helped Y/N get to her back and sit up in the bed. The midwife put Y/N’s feet in the stirrups. 

“Y/N, listen to me,” Bob said sternly, “You have to listen to them, you have to push, okay. I’m right here, I’m doing the best I possibly can.” 

“This isn’t fucking fair,” Y/N cried, and gripped Penny and the nurse’s hand as she felt a contraction and what felt like the baby’s head dropping lower in her birth canal. 

“I know,” Bob answered, “But you can do it okay, listen to the doctors.” Y/N nodded and Penny wiped her forehead. 

The midwife looked up at Y/N and gave her a sad smile, “Alright, Y/N on the next contraction, I need you to push okay. You know your body better than any of us.” 

Y/N nodded and let out a shaky breath. She felt the cramping of a contraction and sucked in a deep breath. When the contraction hit, she pushed, closing her eyes and letting out a groan. Bob closed his eyes, not being able to imagine the pain she was in. With every push that the midwife would count out, Y/N’s groans and cries got louder. He could tell as the time went on that she was getting more and more exhausted. 

“Jesus Chrsit, I can’t do this,” Y/N said breathlessly as she leaned against the back of the bed. 

“You’re so close, Y/N, I can see the baby’s head,” The midwife said, “Next one push as hard as you can.” 

“You got this babe, come on,” Bob said. He heard the midwife tell her to push, “Come on sweetheart, push hard, you got this, come on love.” 

“Crowning!” The midwife called out and Y/N let out a loud cry, “This is the hardest part, you are right here, you can do this. Give me a big push and bring this baby into the world.” 

Y/N moved slightly, and beared down as she pushed hard, feeling a burning sensation as the baby’s head was pushed out of her birthing canal. She closed her eyes tightly, gripping on to Penny and the nurse’s hands for dear life. Bob was saying encouraging words but it was all drawn out as the pain subsided and Y/N felt her body relax. 

“One more, give me one more,” The midwife said, “The hardest part is over, you can do it.” 

“Bob,” Y/N’s voice shook. 

“This is it, you can do it, bring our baby into the world.” Bob said. 

She clenched her jaw tightly, she was surprised that she didn’t break her teeth as she pushed with all her might. It was like white hot pain, almost like breaking a bone, as she felt the baby being pulled from her womb. She let out a broken cry as she felt a weight being placed on her chest, a loud cry filling the room. Y/N’s hands went straight to the squirming newborn on her chest and looked down to see their big brown eyes. Her mind was so overclouded with stimulation that she couldn’t think of anything to say. 

“It’s a girl!” She heard the midwife say and Y/N cried even harder. 

Bob wasn’t fighting back tears anymore as he held his head in his hands and sobbed, hearing the cry of his daughter over the phone. This wasn’t how he expected the delivery of his rainbow baby to go. He always expected him to be right by his wife’s side, holding her hand, sitting behind her as she pushed, encouraging her, seeing his daughter the second she was brought into this world, being able to cut the cord. Instead, he was hearing her loud cries from the middle of the ocean. 

“We’re going to weigh her and clean her up, then we’ll give her right back, okay,” The nurse said to Y/N. She was still so exhausted all she could do was nod, “Congrats momma, and you too, dad!” 

Bob nodded, and wiped his tears, “I love you so much,” He cried out, his voice breaking. 

“I love you too,” Y/N said. 

“I’m going to let you go, okay, I promise, I will be there as soon as I get docked in Miramar. You need to sleep, you did so good, so good, I am so proud of you,” Bob said, knowing he was probably talking to her sleepy self. 

“I love you, Bob,” Y/N said, “I’ll see you when you get here.” 

They said their goodbyes and Bob hung up. He sat there with his head in hands for a bit longer, looking down at the ground. The events of the day started to hit him all at once, and the tears fell down his face uncontrollably. He couldn’t stop his body from shaking as he cried. He didn’t even notice Phoenix walked into the office. Phoenix’s mind went to the worst possible thing as she walked over to him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. Bob looked up at her, his brown eyes wet with tears. 

“Bob-” 

“I’m a dad,” He said, “I’m a fucking dad!” 

“Oh my god!” Phoenix said, pulling Bob from his seat and hugged him. She pulled back from the hug and looked at him, “Is everything okay? Y/N? The baby?” 

“A healthy little girl,” Bob smiled, “Y/N’s okay, the best she can be for having a baby on her own. But . . I’m a girl dad.” 

— — — 

She knew she had slept too long, even though she had been a mom for less than a day, she knew she still slept too long. Y/N groaned as she opened her eyes, squinting at the harsh light above her head. Her body was still sore, especially her lower region. Penny had been a godsend helping her through the night when she had to get up and pee or wanted to walk around. Y/N rubbed her eyes as she looked towards the small basnet that was placed by her bed, to find it empty. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked around the room frantically to hear the sweet voice she had been waiting to hear. 

“Looks like Mom is up,” Bob said, walking over to his wife. Y/N’s heart settled back down as she saw the small bundle of blankets in his arms. He hadn’t even change18d bbout of his flight suit and it looked like he hadn’t slept in hours, but Bob still looked amazing, “You were sleeping and I didn’t want to wake you but the second I saw her I knew that I-” 

“It’s okay,” She said, her voice still gravely from screaming during labor, “You’re here.” 

“I’m here,” Bob said and sat down on her bed, “And you will never have to do that alone again, I promise.” 

“Bob, I can’t ask you to give up what you love.” 

“But I love this more,” Bob said, looking between his wife and his daughter. 

“She looks like you,” Y/N said, “Those eyes are exactly like yours.” Bob smiled as his daughter opened her tired eyes, “She doesn’t have a name yet. I was waiting for you so we can name her.” 

Bob studied his daughter. Names were something that the two of them had spent some time going back and forth on. Neither one was quite set on a certain name, agreeing that once they saw their child they would be able to know what their name should be. Bob ran his finger gently down her face as she yawned. 

“Eleanor,” Bob said and looked at his wife, “Eleanor May Floyd.”

--- --- ---

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[sprout-fics]

Falling Down to Earth (Part One)

(Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Medic "Fix" Reader)

Part Four of Snowblind

(Part Two Here)

Rating: Mature Wordcount: 7.6k Tags: Slow Burn, Heavy Angst, Trauma, Found Family, Taskforce 141, Team Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort, Unreliable Narrator, Self Esteem Issues, Referenced Familial abuse, Mom Laswell, Domesticity Warnings: References to childhood verbal abuse A/N: Three part character study of the medic named Fix, therapy included

There's exactly nine hours and ten minutes on the plane ride from England to Washington D.C. for you to finish falling down to Earth.

You sit in a far corner of the C-17, curled up on a seat and away from the other troops. Mostly American, some Canadian. They chatter for the first hour or so, and there's excitement, relief that buzzes through them. There’s smiles and laughter that drowns the fatigue of the things they've seen, the nightmares they'll all have. It doesn't matter right now. They're going home. Home to loved ones and familiar places, to joy and relief before the memories set in.In their camaraderie, someone produces a deck of cards, and there’s jovial laughter and friendly jibes as hands are played.

You listen from afar, gather bits and pieces of their lives- where they were stationed, for how long, where they're going home to, the people waiting for them. There’s an ounce of something that remains untouchable between them, refusing to speak of the bullet, the bombings and bombardments that scream in the silence of your mind. Some of them exchange numbers, share pictures of spouses, children, pets. There's a woman a little older than yourself who confesses she'll be proposing to her girlfriend the moment she lands, and the announcement is met by cheers and hardy claps on her shoulder.

You should join them, let the brightness of their joy drown away the dark pit that opens inside you with every mile that grows between you and the men you called brothers. Instead, every bit of illumination in their eyes seems to only make you sink further into yourself- wanting that happiness desperately for your own tender soul and far too afraid to reach for it.

There's no one to return to when you get home. Nobody to embrace you as you land, to burst from the door of a house and cry as they wrap their arms around you. Nobody to take you out to drinks even as you search the crowd for a familiar dark hoodie, a baseball cap, listen for a smoky, gruff voice or the lilting accent of a Scot. The only people for you are the people you've been forced to leave behind, staring across the sea and hoping maybe they'll think about you too.

You see the way the other troops eye you from afar, see the lost shape of you in your eyes that have long since stopped being able to shed tears. You think maybe one of them will come over, try to drag you from your thoughts, and for a moment you want so desperately for that to come true. It doesn't, and as the buzzer sounds and everyone finds their seats, you feel yourself descending to Earth once more, buckling away that horrid loneliness of you for whatever task comes next.

True to story, there's a small crowd of folks who welcome back the returning heroes with signs and embraces and delight. You tug your cap down a little farther, push past them and towards the direction of the base gate to grab a cab to...somewhere.

There's no one here for you. Not that you expected there to be. It's been a long time since you talked to your family. They'd tried to contact you while you were in university, and even now you can remember your father's commanding voice, warning you against the foolishness of your current path. He had been tempered only by your mother, with her docile, sad tremble, pleading for you to listen, to come home.

You stopped having a home with them a long time ago.

The last time you had heard from any of them was from your brother, the golden child, asking if you'd please consider coming to his candidacy announcement. Sweet, apologetic, filled with false niceties the result of only forceful ignorance.

"I don't know what happened between you and Dad, but maybe consider he said whatever he did because he cares about you?"

You hung up the phone, took your deployment papers, and never looked back.

Now, in a city that you've grown up in, one that feels like a foreign land, you falter, look to the wind for guidance. Air rushes past your form as you feel the center of yourself falling, an Icarus desperately reaching for the sun as you hurtle down into the dark waves of the ocean below. There’s no hands to catch you, nothing to stop your fall as you desperately grasp for an anchor against the gravity that forces you down into nothing.

You turn on your phone, watch it light up and prepare to call yourself a cab to a hotel. You're pretty sure your lease ended a long time ago, apartment cleaned out of the few things remaining there. You didn't bother to check, never expecting you'd be anywhere but here.

Surprisingly, you see a little green bubble pop up from one of the only numbers you have saved.

Laswell.

Fix. It reads, and you can almost hear Kate's clipped, wry tone in her words. If you're looking for a place to stay, come to this address. I've got a spare bedroom, and it sounds like you could use it. Let me know if you make other arrangements.

Attached is an address on the other side of the city, an hour's drive from where you are. You're ready to tap on it when there's one more message that appears beneath your thumb.

Text me when you get this. The boys want to know you made it home safe.

You're glad Kate isn't here to watch the sorrow color your eyes at the reminder of the men who have left you behind. You send a quick reply, summon a ride, and once more feel the world spin once more beneath your gaze as it rushes upwards, uncertain of where you will at last land when you sink through the clouds and into the ruin of yourself.

--------------------------------------------

It’s a nice house, you think.

Pressed up against a small thicket of trees, the brown brick bungalow exudes solitude, tucked away at the end of the aspen lined lane. The roof slopes steeply upwards, shingled and crossed over at the eaves with German styled paneling. It's older than many of the homes on the same street- newer, trying to appear older than they are with the faux stone exteriors and freshly installed windows.

The house before you is one of the few that has remained the same, steadfast against a changing world. Worn, tiles on the roof in need of mending, the stone steps gritty with dirt and age. It's quieter, yet somehow warmer than the homes around it. Like a hearth, it beckons you closer, offers the temptation of sanctuary. You can see a window jutting out into the direction of the side yard, a hidden perch that whispers of a quiet, needed withdrawal.

A glance down at your phone shows Kate’s message, the white letters contrasted against the gray darkness of your screen.

I won’t be home until after dinner, but Paula will be home. She’ll show you around :)

You shoulder your bag- standard issue military duffel- onto your back, trying to swallow down the gnawing sense of reluctance that paces the inner confines of your thoughts. The wince at the motion comes before you can stop it- the reminder of your suspension still scathing fresh against your skin. The lace of pain in your side instantly summons the memory of words fired between the sterile whiteness of a hospital room, aching with that same hurt.

“You have nothing to prove, Fix.”

“I have EVERYTHING to prove!!”

Even now, the freshly healed bullet wound you’d carefully concealed aches with an insistent, dulled sharpness against your ribs- almost worse than Price’s devastating command, thundering down onto you with dreaded finality.

“You’re suspended. Come back when you’ve got your head on straight.”

It hurts.

Not the wound itself, but the consequences you’ve reaped in the act of hiding it from the others- thinking that your injury would betray your own inner weakness. Deeper than a bullet, the horrifying, dreaded result of your own actions wind around your limbs like shadowy tendrils, dragging you down with an inertia you can’t control, wax wings melted by the sun.

Yet here the windows of the house glow warmly in the drawing dusk, candles in the dimness flicker, summoning you into their gentle embrace.

The hollow knock on the old wooden door seems to mimic the emptiness in your own heart, crying out in an emptiness you’ve always known, one you won’t be able to fill even with the insurmountable number of your disappointments.

The one who answers the door isn’t Kate. No, it’s a figure that’s a bit shorter, brown-eyed, coiling hair pulled away from her face. Still, the warmness of her eyes when she smiles, the brightness of her stare feels familiar, welcome.

“You must be Fix.” Kate’s wife greets, standing aside as your toes balance on the threshold. “I’m Paula. Please, come inside.”

You murmur a thanks, quiet and muted, eyes gazing down at your feet. You shuffle inside, perch precariously in the foyer as she shuts the door behind you.

This feels…wrong.

You desperately want it to not be so. You want to enjoy this- a warm house, a friendly face, a place to stay, to catch yourself. Yet there’s ghosts here, ones that whisper of chandeliers and polished centerpieces, beautiful tapestries and furniture meant only to look at. An artificialness you thought you abandoned long ago but persists even now. The scent of your father's office in your nostrils mutes Paula's gentle words.

“You can put your bag right here, we’ll get you settled later.” Paula gestures to a couch in the room beside you, where a dozing German Shepherd lies splayed against a frayed blanket. He gives you a few lazy thumps of his tail, raising a grey muzzle before flopping back once more. “Don’t mind Whiskey, he just had a run in the backyard, he’ll come say hello in a bit.”

Wordlessly, you drop the bag down on the cushions, turning back to Paula. Yet when your lips part, there’s no words. What do you even say?

I don’t want to be here. I want to be with them. This feels too much like the home I used to know, the same one I want to forget.

…Do you know where I can find myself again?

Your eyes find Paula’s, and all those words seem to be conveyed in your gaze alone. Heartbreak, bitter disappointment, longing, despair, a fury muted only by your own inescapable loneliness.

She takes a step forward, and you almost want to retreat, to press yourself away from her on instinct, a fragile thing that even a gentle touch might shatter. Yet there’s no threat in her eyes. Instead, there’s a warmth, a sadness that’s stifled by something that feels dangerously close to tenderness, to hope.

When her arms wrap around you, it feels less like a sentence and more like the inevitability of falling into a place where you want to rest the tender, hurt fringes of your soul.

You bury your face into her shoulder and sob like the child you never got to be.

--------------------------------------

True to her word, Kate comes home well after dark, bags under her eyes heavy as she drapes her jacket across the back of the couch. Whiskey, who until that point had been sitting attentively by your feet as you idly stroked his ears, barks and bounds over to Laswell, feet splaying forward and tail wagging. You watch as the fatigue in Laswell's eyes brightens to fondness, and she kneels to offer the German Shepherd a ruffle of his neck and a few tender words.

When she stands, she notices you past the door of the kitchen, perching on one of the barstools as Paula finishes making dinner.

"Fix." She offers in greeting, and she sounds oddly pleased, different than her usual, severe instruction to you and the team. "Good to see you."

You swallow around a piece of cracker and cheese and offer her a hesitant, shy glance with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes.

"Hi Chief." You supply in turn, and Kate waves a hand at you as she passes into the kitchen, Whiskey at her heels.

"You can drop the honorifics." She tells you, humor concealing the drain the day has had on her. "You're in my kitchen eating food from my pantry. This is about as informal as it gets."

"That would be my kitchen, actually?" Paula supplies her with an arched eyebrow as she stands over the stovetop, overseeing the steaks in the cast-iron pan. Yet as Laswell reaches her the feigned annoyance in her eyes fades to something sweeter, and she cranes her head as Laswell delivers a fond peck to her wife's cheek. "Hi hun, long day?"

"Aren't they all?" Kate replies, peering over Paula's shoulder and making a pleased noise at what she finds.

You shift a little where you sit, feeling suddenly as if you're deeply intruding on a very private moment between the two women.

Kate seems to notice, and she turns to you, grey eyes regarding your stiff, uneasy figure perched beside the counter. You're still dressed in your fatigues, haven't yet retrieved a change of clothes from your bag still dropped onto the couch. It makes you feel strangely out of place. Within the dim, ambient light of the kitchen, in a place that feels like the tender warmth of a hearth, the green and grey camo of your uniform makes you seem a whole world away.

You think Laswell might follow you there, might immediately ask about what happened in England, about your fight with Price, about the healing bullet wound in your side, about how long you'll be here.

Instead, Kate smiles and asks: "Chocolate or pistachio?"

You falter, perplexed by her non-sequitur, eyes blinking as you provide: "Choc...olate?"

Kate nods sagely and vanishes back in the direction of the living room. You hear her rustle around for a moment before she appears once more, hands full before she deposits a plastic container on the kitchen counter in front of you. You blink at the dessert, once more feeling a bit out of place with the strange mundanity Kate has bestowed upon you.

"Cannoli." She quips, and it startles a little gasp from Paula, who turns and delightedly snatches a plastic container from her wife's hands.

"Eastern Market?" She asks happily, and Kate nods, looking a touch pleased with herself. "No wonder you were so late."

Kate offers a tired shrug, taking a bite of her own dessert, to which Paula tsks.

"Dessert before dinner?" She inquires, and again Kate shrugs. Yet this time there's that wry smile of hers tugging at the corner of her lips as she leans against the counter beside you.

"Who's to say we can't?" She replies, and when she glances at you her eyes flicker down to your own dessert and then up to you with a meaning there you don't fully understand yet. Her grey gaze rests on yours as if she's trying to convey a message through her stare alone. It remains to be deciphered, unwritten and unspooled just like the depths of you.

When you take a bite, the sweetness coats your tongue, and there's a small, foreign part of you that twinkles with joy, like the barest sound of wind chimes in a warm breeze.

-----

Kate shows you to your room after dinner and dishes. It's sparse. A bed, a dresser, a desk, a lamp, a closet. The window you saw earlier looks into the backyard, a cushion seated inside the frame like a silent lookout. It pleases you, oddly, scratches the part of your brain that instinctively seeks perches from which to set up a sniper position.

"It's not the Ritz Carlton." Laswell tells you as you stand, frozen on the threshold. "So, you'll have to bear with it."

"No." You whisper mildly. "It's...it's perfect."

You've spent so much time sleeping in trenches, on rooftops, on planes and in safehouses and not sleeping at all that this- this room with the downy white comforter and the soft hazy light of the lamp by the bedside...is more than you think you deserve.

You lower the duffel onto the bed with a considerable amount of hesitation, feeling Kate's eyes on you as you trace the print on the decorative pillow nestled at the headboard. She's silent, in that way of hers that you know is watchful, contemplative, discerning the secrets of others like sifting sand through her fingers in search of sea glass.

"Thank you." You offer after considerable silence, feeling and gratitude beyond words, trying to swallow down the protests that threaten to spill outwards.

I don't deserve this. You think. How can I possibly stay here, with you, after you chose me and I failed? How can you forgive me for that?

When you turn to Kate, she somehow sees all of this and more written across your gaze, and she sighs.

"Fix." She begins, and normally that's enough to make you panic, shift inwards and prepare yourself to be defensive, to receive orders and bury any doubts in exchange for duty. You expect instructions, constraints, consequences in the way you've lived all your life.

Yet Laswell holds her breath, looks at you with an emotion that feels too wise and sibylline to be pity or concern. Instead, it reminds you of the prophecy she held in her gaze in Ethiopia, where she told you to find her once more, had drawn you in like a moth to flame as if she knew you needed to be burned whole to find yourself amidst the ashes.

"Whatever you need." Kate offers at last. "I'm here. I mean that."

You want to believe her, want so desperately to bask in her comfort and ask of her more than you can bear, but the whisper of something deep and dark and unknown coils in your ear, drags you down and muffles any other sound than "Thank you."

It doesn't seem to satisfy Kate, because the line of her mouth goes taut and grim, form a little tense and it's hard to not think of it as disapproval.

"There's something else." She supplies in the silence that follows. "Price...mandated that you see a therapist while you're on leave. I'm supposed to sign off when you're fit to return to duty."

You can acutely hear the sound of your own heart hammering in your ears, feel the world spin in dizzying chaos once more as you process Kate's words.

"I thought you should know." Kate tells you as your face shifts in something close to fright, anxiousness. "But in exchange you can't keep pretending like there's nothing wrong."

There is nothing wrong. You want to tell her, knowing that it's a lie. So instead, you offer her silence, refuse to damn yourself further with your protests.

Kate paces over to the desk, pulls a drawer and produces a journal, places it gingerly on the surface of the desk before looking back to you.

"You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. You don't even have to tell your therapist if you want. If you tell no one else, at least try and tell yourself."

You don't respond. What is there to say? Confess why you know you're here, that you think this is wrong despite that? That somehow for all the ruin in you, you're being punished?

Kate holds your gaze for a long moment before she closes her eyes, seemingly in resignation, pacing over to the door.

"The others..." She tells you, halfway turned to you, dim shadows slating across her form. "They care about you, Fix. We all do. I hope you remember that."

There's a pain then, one that flashes through you, makes something dull and rotted inside you crave towards brightness. You don't truly understand why it hurts until much later, curled in bed, staring at the ceiling in the darkness and trying to uncover the secrets of your own heart.

You think, deep inside, it's because you want to care about yourself too.

-------

The days that follow inch by.

You try your best to make yourself at home, memorizing the schedules of the women who host you. Laswell wakes first, at an hour most would consider ungodly, making herself a meager breakfast composed mostly of coffee before she kisses Paula and heads out towards the Pentagon. Paula follows later, flitting about the house muttering about misplaced papers, keys, glasses, her purse. You learn the first evening with them that she's counsel to a large immigration defense firm in the city, her hours intense but fairly flexible. She's usually back by early afternoon and manages to retain a wealth of energy Laswell seems to lack upon her arrival. The days repeat themselves, and every morning you watch them leaves, ears ringing in the quiet, empty house they've left behind.

You try to relax, as Laswell has ordered you, at least for the first few days. You read books, leaf through the Washington Post, go on long, rambling walks with Whiskey and end up with his head in your lap as you flick through movies on TV. You watch the characters there fall into silly, desperate love, jump from burning buildings and look into the camera with dewy, glowing gazes. It feels so foreign to you, so very detached from the things you've experienced, the life you've led.

The journal on your desk goes untouched.

Kate arrives back in the evenings, and sometimes she's too tired to even talk, forcing herself to eat and then collapsing on the couch for an hour, Whiskey splayed across her front. You join her in mutual company, curl onto the other sofa and sink into the confines of your own thoughts in mutual silence. Sometimes you join Paula in the kitchen, aid her in washing dishes and cleaning the remains of dinner. Yet the unwavering warmth in her, the brightened chatter she offers feels too sharp, too indulgent against your frayed, muted senses.

Instead, you find yourself with Kate, who talks in a low, quiet voice. The tone of her feels like the ocean casting gently against a pebbled beach, rhythmic and soothing, cradling you as the clipped, wry intonation of her drops away in the solitude of evening. You feel for the first time as if you're observing not Laswell but Kate. Somehow softer but just as resilient, a glimmering glass that reveals the machinations of the world itself.

Kate talks to you about music, about politics, to which you find yourself closely aligned, about pop culture that Paula chimes in on, about her travels. She regales you with stories about her missions abroad, spending time in the dust bowls of the Middle East, of beautiful tea shops and warm people. She spins images of ruined buildings but the people there straining against injustice and wanting desperately to not just survive but to thrive. She tells you of trips down into the heart of Sub-Saharan Africa, of tracing networks of terrorists through jungles and of the many languages she's spoken to find them.

She doesn't tell you about the lives she'd lost as a result.

She's careful not to talk about work, you notice. Any intel she has to share, that which you would normally be privy to, remains conspicuously absent in your conversations. There's no discussion of intel on AQ, on Russian gangsters or foreign mercenaries or underground criminal networks. She's purposeful, calculated, and more often than not you're led by her conversations so much so that you forget the questions you want to ask.

What did you find? Where? Who? Will you send them? Which ones?

...How are they?

The mere thought of the 141 aches you to the bones, makes you hurt so badly it cracks at the very foundation of you. You haven't heard from them since you left England, and every day that passes you catch yourself staring into the messages last sent by them. Gaz, inviting you to come watch a soccer match with him and Price, one that ended up drawing all of you as Soap groaned in defeat and Gaz stood proudly on the couch whooping at the TV. Price, reminding you wheels up in fifteen, suggesting you double check your medic kit one more time before you all leave. Soap, a selfie of you and the others at a bar, where Price and a dark hooded figure sit passively in the background.

Ghost, with your message a parting, aching gift you sent while you were recovering from your original injury after being shot. He had texted to let you know he and Price would arrive shortly, bring you a change or two of clothes from your bag, that they were five minutes out.

You had sent back "See you soon."

It's on more than one night you hug your phone to your chest, chest lacing with a pain where you can't discern the phantasmal from the physical. It feels like a curse, one with no remedy, a dangerous, sacrilegious hypocrisy you scream against with no escape. It's a reminder that you, you were the one to put yourself here, the rope that bound you to them frayed by your own mistakes and snapping into nothingness, watching them rise far above you atop the summit of impossible expectations you built for yourself. You scrabble to climb it anyways, carrying stones to place at the zenith so you'll never reach the apex of your own victories.

You shake apart in your bed at night, tremble in the dark and find echoes in your sorrow. You feel your chest weigh down with the poisonous solitude and sink you further into the abyss of the ocean, far from the sun. It's dark, cold, insufferably lonely and despite the soft comfort of your bed it feels like at the slightest touch you'll splinter into irreparable fragments of yourself.

You wish you were still with them, and the pain of it draws you taut like a bowstring. Their fingers skim along your thoughts and memories, along the tether of you so they can listen to the hum. At a moment's notice they'll recoil away from you in your thoughts, snap and release. You crave the temptation of allowing yourself to shudder into their grasp, their hands embracing you and tracing along your surface like trying to coax poison from a wound. You want so desperately for them to not leave you behind, to stay in their hearts where they might someday accept you with grace, listening to the whisper of your surrender in being loved by them.

When you wake in the mornings you don't recognize the birdsong outside, mistaking it for the whistle of impending missiles.

You sometimes wonder if they died while you were asleep.

------

It's that second week into your stay that you go to see your issued therapist for the first time.

Despite your protests Paula takes time off work to take you there herself. You assure her you can call a taxi or even walk there if you have to. You've hiked kilometers wearing your whole gear set and pack before, this is not difficult. Yet Paula merely hushes you, reminds you once again of your injury, and you realize it's a lost cause to argue with her.

Even so, you squirm uncomfortably in the car on the way over, cheeks warm, feeling like a little kid again being taken somewhere you don't want to go. The sensation follows you inside, as you sit ramrod straight in the waiting area, too tightly wound to relax even an inch. Paula had given you the grace of leaving you there by yourself, but for some strange reason you wish she hadn't. Even in your shame of attending this mandatory punishment you wish selfishly that maybe she'd return, cover your hand and let the erratic thump of your heartbeat settle in your lungs.

Eventually the door to the interior office opens, and out steps an older man, hunched over with a cane, grey hairs sticking out from under a cap that reads 'Vietnam Veteran'. He glances at you over his glasses, pauses just long enough to give you a nod with a smile that barely contains the grimace underneath. It's only once he's passed that the doctor behind him calls for you, and you shoot to your feet, a live wire rigged with electricity.

The inside of his office is...quiet. It's a little strange, admittedly. There's knick knacks scattered across the shelves, wedged between acclimations and awards, plants with long stems spilling across the windowsill behind his desk. More of them perch on various stands and stools, tenderly cared for and alighting the space in greenery. The bookshelves scarcely contain the number of books within them, some stacked slightly askew to make room for more. Yet despite the crowdedness it isn't messy. It simply feels...full. Cozy, like the warmth of an open heart.

"Fix." You correct him when he sits across from you. You realize he doesn't bother with a pen and paper, doesn't sit in front of a laptop screen. You weren't sure what you were expecting- perhaps a dry, sterile office in pastel colors with motivational poster and a man clinically scratching down shorthand with a murmur of 'and how does that make you feel?'

"Fix." He agrees with a kind smile, and the sound of your own name is enough to make your leg stop bouncing.

He doesn't launch straight in, taking a moment to inform you of your rights and responsibilities as a patient, the things he is and isn't allowed to share. He reminds you that you still need to pass a psych eval before you're cleared for duty, and you swallow the urge to ask him if you can do that part already, recite the answers you already know and get back to where you belong. Yet you know Laswell, with her keen perceptive eyes, would only sigh in disappointment, recognizing the transparency of you.

"I'm a medic." You tell him in response to his prompt to introduce yourself despite the fact he's already read your file. "I'm the designated medic for an international terrorism taskforce. I can't tell you the name."

He waits expectantly, as if for you to provide something else. You falter, trying to figure out if there's anything else you should add. Yet nothing appears, nothing else than your identity built through purpose, a thing designed inherently to be useful for others.

"Do you do anything outside of work, Fix?" He gently pries, and again you hesitate, trying to find something in yourself you aren't sure exists.

"I...sometimes go out with my teammates." You offer after a pause. "Pubs, usually. Soap and Gaz, they..." You trail off, feeling once more that pain pulse through you, a hard and heavy burst of awareness against your ribs that makes the air in your chest catch. "Soap and Gaz, they like to go dancing sometimes. They dragged me along once but I didn't like all the noise and the crowds so I didn't go again."

"Sounds like you're fairly close with them." He remarks as he sits back in his chair, and you try not to grimace at his words. There's a deep ache in your chest that makes you want to press a hand there, feel the hollow where the absence of your team lies.

"Maybe." You reply enigmatically, shifting your eyes away, letting your gaze trace the electric clutter of the room, the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. You think about the veteran you just saw, wonder if that’s how he sees you too- some scarred, broken thing with eyes looking distantly to the past where your nightmares echo into your soul.

"Where are they now?" He goes on, and the chest ache deepens, forces the air low in your ribs as your brow knots. You think about the faces of Soap, of Gaz, as they lingered outside your hospital room after you pushed them away. The guilt, the tearing regret inside you threatens to choke your lungs, send warmth flooding to your eyes with the memory.

"England." You answer, voice very small. "Or...I don't know. They could be deployed. I haven't been told. They..." You trail off, feel the downward spiral open inside you once more, your awareness circling the drain into where your deepest, darkest thoughts lie.

"I failed them." You say suddenly, surprising even yourself with the abrupt confession. It's more to yourself than to anyone else, a solemn reminder of the person you are, the things you couldn't achieve, the deep frost of the shadows they cast on you as they hike ever onwards into the hills.

"How so?" The therapist asks, and you look down into your fingers webbed together, upturning your palms as if they have answers.

"I...fucked up. Got myself shot." You breathe after several long minutes of silence, where you think he will fill the void, and instead waits for you. He takes a deep inhale, lets it go in contemplation before speaking.

"I don't think getting shot counts as failing them, not when you're in our occupation." He provides, and it makes your head shoot up, blinking as you meet his gaze.

"Our...?" You echo.

"Former army medic." There's a gentle smile on his face as he explains. "Left the service and went back to school. I still help soldiers, just a little different these days."

"Oh."

You're not really sure what to say to that, face turning downwards towards your hands once more. You think about the times they've been caked with blood, how often you've felt someone else's pulse bleed across your fingertips. The memories of the men and women you'd treated amidst the hail of gunfire, the whistle of incoming mortars and the distant thunder of tanks rise automatically- a warm, wet pulse on the underside of your skin. You remember every face, every set of eyes on the people you've saved, the horror of death looming in the distance.

All of them. Afraid. Confused. Desperate. Lost.

Just as you are, you think. Lost in a fate you can't seem to control no matter how desperately you strive against it. You’re constantly trying to strain towards the heavens even as you hurtle down through layers of clouds, watching feathers cast an abstract of loss behind your descending form.

"Can you tell me about what happened after you were shot?" The man before you offers once more in the silence that follows, one filled only with the thrum of your heartbeat. You breathe shaky, unsteady sigh, trying to calm the twisting knot in your stomach as you struggle to answer against the pain of recalling what events led you here.

"I went back to our home base with them" You answer at last. "...But they had to be called away on another mission, and I was still healing so I couldn't go."

You remember Price. You remember his hands on your shoulders, his face turned down. Weary but kind, stern but gentle, all the things you desperately wanted in him, soothing the balm of forgotten memories. The sound of the oak door in your father's office shutting behind you with a click that spoke of finality.

"I...was trying to heal faster." You go on, leg bouncing once more as you fail to contain the rising, frenetic energy inside of you. "I was trying to make sure I could be fine once they got back, but..."

You trail off, feel silence press heavy on your shoulders.

"But?"

"I ended up really fucking things up instead." You reply, voice small, and it hurts. The volume of your words sounds like childhood, of the echo bouncing back from the repository of the things you longed desperately to shed, to be made anew. "Made a right mess of things."

"How so?"

You grimace, feel tears threaten in your eyes. The taste of a sob sours on your tongue, and you force yourself to swallow the bitterness of it instead.

Don't cry. Don't cry. You remind yourself. Don't show them. Don't let them know.

They might leave you.

When you don't answer, let minutes lap into nothingness, his voice at last fills the emptiness between you. Gentle, coaxing, reminding you of a smoke laden reassurance that shudders through you with longing.

"It sounds like you put a lot of pressure on yourself." He observes quietly.

You pause.

Your bullet wound hurts.

"Yeah, well, someone has to." You at last reply ruefully. Your shoulders feel too tight, aching with the weight of the wings you’ve used to loft yourself towards sparkling heavens, only to reach too far and instead witness the looming maw of darkness under you.

You hate this.

You hate the feeling of someone peeling back layers of your skin, slicing through the exterior of you with a scalpel like gaze. You hate how gentle his eyes are despite how wretchedly vulnerable you feel, despise the way he can be so soothing and yet somehow reveal the rotten interior of your soul. It burns, and the pain concentrates on the center of your failures, where a bullet ripped flesh from your form and rendered you lost in the labyrinth of yourself, unable to find a way out.

"-and that person is you? Why?" He asks, and his voice echoes out, feels like it reverberates in the hollow center of you, bouncing endlessly in an irreligious choir that sings of the things you don't understand.

"I...don't know." You answer, and it's a lie. You know it is. You know the tether that binds you extends years into the past, is wrapped tight in the fist of the one whose voice echoes in the cavern of your thoughts. He dwells in the ocean below, where churning, disastrous waves of emotion close over your drowning form.

"Worthless."

The man before you pauses, seems to consider the things you've said, and the words that stay unspoken in the silence. It reminds you a bit of Laswell, of the way she can pluck unseen things from the mist and discern them like the tides of the world itself. You're caught in the rip current, carried to an unknown destination as the men you hold dear drift further away from you, their backs turned from your voice that refuses to call out.

You wish they’d turn and cast their eyes upon your form, that maybe they'd rescue you.

You're too afraid to ask.

"I think we can find out, Fix." The man before you offers at last, and it feels both like a shimmer of light in the darkness and a shadow that blots out the sun. Hopeful, terrifying, entirely foreign but somehow wanted.

"Will you tell me more about your teammates?" He goes on to ask, and you do raise your head at that, blink into his spectacled gaze with his warm smile that feels like an embrace you don't deserve.

The words tumble out before you can stop them.

You tell him. You tell him about the men you've served with, of your brothers. You tell him about Soap, with his brawny and boisterous voice, of his playful and endearing banter. You tell him about how the Scot was the first besides Price to welcome you to the team, was the one to give you your nickname when he had bled into your hands. You tell him about the moments where Soap is softer, gentler, offering himself to you in a way he hoped you'd might one day return.

Gaz, with his softer smile and unwavering focus, his deep loyalty to his team members that bolsters you all. He sees the things the rest of you don't, gaze sharp like the scope of a rifle you're all too familiar with. There's a softness to him unlike the others, one that you will sometimes forget in the midst of him at your back under a hail of gunfire. You know the sound of his laughter, know the bump of his arm against yours and the tenderness in his eyes at the things you won't admit.

Then Price, with his stern guidance that you never fail to adhere to, the hand on your shoulder that conveys more than words. You feel safety under the shelter of his wing, look to his stare that looks past the obstacles that stand in his way. He paves the way before you all, secures the ground behind you, stands in unrelenting, furious opposition to the forces that dare advance upon your mission. Yet despite his violence you feel the trust he shares in you, and you desperately crave to someday live up to it.

Ghost.

Ghost, whose real name you don't yet know, just like so many things about him. The first time you met him was in a briefing room, Price standing tall beside you and announcing you to the team. Ghost had leveled his dark, dead gaze at you from afar, and despite the urge to shrink away you had instead returned his stare wordlessly, allowing your own resilience to shine through. You remember how his eyes had widened a mere fraction, a tell you would come to learn as interest.

You know it had been him who had taken off your boots when you collapsed into your bunk after Nepal. You know it had been him to give Price the thermos of tea to bring you in the hospital. You know it had been him who had gently lowered you onto the floor of the plane upon your return to England, ensured you wouldn't wake up sore and hurting.

You know it was he who had told Price of your failures- had revealed the depths of your own self-hatred blossoming like carnations across the skeletal grasp of his glove.

You know he's always been able to see you more than anyone else.

You don't say all this, of course, the secrets of your wishes and desires for these men stay close to your heart. You know by now the sacredness of things left unsaid, even if the swell of them inside you threatens to fester your bones, rip feathers from your flesh.

Don't let them know. Don't let them know. Don't let them know because you'll find out just how disappointed they are. You'll find out they never wanted you to begin with.

At last, your therapist nods, as if to himself, before leaning forward a bit so his elbows rest on his knees. He looks at you, and in your weary heart left in the wake of your memories, you feel the clairvoyant gaze of him pierce into your ribs where the ache of it all dwells.

"Can you come back next week?" Is all he offers.

You aren't sure. You want to say no, that this is far too much, that you've already spoken more than you want to. You're afraid if you share more he might somehow decide your fate for you, might pull the strings of fate so you will never return to the place you're supposed to be.

Yet, somehow, you say yes instead.

------

You go home, silent on the drive with Paula, who gives you grace in the absence of words. You are silent for the rest of the day too, offer scant bits of conversation as you pick at dinner. The world feels different somehow. The air rushing past your ears feels quieter, the wind not as sharp against your skin. You’re still falling, still sinking, still watching the heavens loom too large above your form. You recall the memory of being younger, smaller, looking up at the unfathomable expanse of the world and wondering when you would grow to meet its size.

You stare up at it in the darkness of your bedroom, hear the gale howl in the silence of midnight. There’s questions left to you that you have no answers for, upturning your palms once more and trying to sift sand through them in search of something there you don’t yet know.

"That person is you? Why?"

It has to be me. You think to yourself, hearing the sound of your own voice hush against the emptiness of your room. Nobody else is here anymore to do the same. I have to be better. I can't fail. I can't disappoint them. That way they can't see the failure I am inside.

Don't let them see. Please, dear God don't let them see.

It's a desperate cry into the midnight, a hand thrown up in desperation that sears against the sun. The blistering brightness of it burns against the back of your eyelids, rendering you blind to yourself. White consumes your vision, and you hear the fated whisper of snow blindness echo against the fraught fringes of your soul once more.

"I see you. Just you."

You blink, once more feel the tug of pain in your side where his hand had clamped down on your scarlet wound. The sight of his eyes is inescapable in the realm of your thoughts. Dark, grim, gazing into you as if somehow he is discerning himself. You remember those same eyes as you had bled over his fingertips, had begged him to please, please not look. You remember seeing something that flickered across his stare, that had shaken you to your core, trembled the foundation of the earth under your feet.

Grief.

You rise from your bed, stare into the darkness of your room, feeling the Earth rotate under your falling form. You spread your arms, trying to slow your descent as you pace over to your desk where the gift from Laswell lies.

If you can't tell anyone. At least tell yourself.

You pick up the journal and begin to write.

Tag List: (Reblog this post to be added to future fics from this series! If you'd like to be removed please DM me!)

@dankest-farrik @zwiiicnziiix @moondirti @sritashimada @ladiilokii @yeyinde @sandinthemachine @verdandis-blog @guyfieriiii @fan-of-encouragement @starlitnotes @alicesfracturedmirror @rentaldarling @mockerycrow @atenceladusiaawfytbwb @tinykaka @dumb-djarin @homicidal-slvt @soapskneebrace @nightingale-ghost-writer @selinn777 @nachtcirce @jujubashow @mutuallimbenclosure @kkinky @trash-boi-4-life @scatter-mind001

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #mw2 #cod mw22 #Simon ghost riley x oc #reader insert #cod x reader #fic: shadow and bone #oc: fix #I'm actually really proud of this #and honestly this series isn't as beloved as some of my other faster dirtier sloppier pieces #But I'm okay with that #because at the end of the day this story is and has always been for me #It isn't something I choose to write #It's something that's existed in me all along #and even if people don't like it I am desperately in love with Fix's world and that's what matters

[champagneher]

DRABBLE —  JEON JUNGKOOK x F!READER

BASED ON | reader and jungkook holding hands and being shy to admit their feelings.  GENRE | friends but they have feelings for each other, fluff. WARNINGS | none, just them being shy.

"Ah, breathing fresh air is what I needed." Namjoon smiled, looking at the people around him. After a busy week full of exams and assignments, they could finally take a well-deserved break from all the studying. "This is really going to get crowded."

"Yeah, I heard Matty's band is playing tonight," Jungkook mentioned as he watched students arrive with their baskets and blankets to enjoy an outdoor picnic with friends. "I want to hear them play." He smiled excitedly.

"I want to eat," ____ complained when she saw that her friends were still making no effort to find a place to sit and get the food out.

"Me too," Yoongi sighed. "It's difficult, but I'm sure you can set up the picnic and talk at the same time." He deadpanned, making ____ and Soyeon laugh.

"Ah hyung, you're so mean sometimes." Jungkook frowned. "You, my best friend, support him." He scolded, looking at ____.

"I just laughed, Kook. Come on," she said, taking his arm and dragging him through the park to stand near the shade of a tree, all while she listened to Jungkook mutter under his breath.

The five of them began to take things out to arrange them on top of the tablecloth in the passage; they took out the food and drink they brought to share, while each one took their place around it.

As the sun began to set, the surrounding crowd grew thicker. Jungkook and ____ decided to take a slow walk around the park while the others finished their meal and gossiped. As they strolled, they noticed a group of people gathering around a stage.

"Matty's band is playing," Jungkook said, excitement evident in his voice.

____ nodded, "Let's go check them out."

As they approached the stage, ____'s eyes met Jungkook's. She saw the way Jungkook was watching Matty's band play, and her heart skipped a beat. She knew that Jungkook had feelings for her, but she wasn't sure how to reciprocate them.

Not only that, but she sucked at love.

The band started playing, and both of them found a spot near the front. They danced and sang along, lost in the music. Suddenly, Jungkook appeared beside ____, his hand brushing against hers as he tried to find a place to stand. ____ felt a jolt of electricity run through her as their hands touched.

The band played on, but ____ couldn't focus on anything except for Jungkook's presence beside her. She felt her heart beating faster and faster as Jungkook leaned in closer to her. She could feel Jungkook's breath on her neck as they both swayed to the music.

As the song ended, Jungkook turned to ____ with a shy smile. "Can I walk you back?" he asked.

____ nodded, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. As they walked back to their friends, Jungkook couldn't help but feel like everything was falling into place. He knew that he had feelings for ____, and he was ready to take things to the next level.

As they arrived back at their picnic spot, a group of girls ran towards the stage for the next band, making ____ take Jungkook's hand in her own. The surrounding crowd had thinned out by now, but ____ didn't care. She wanted to hold onto Jungkook as long as possible.

Jungkook looked up at ____, his eyes filled with a mix of uncertainty and hope.

Jungkook and ____ sat down beside their friends, still holding hands. The air was thick with tension, and everyone could sense the electricity between the two of them.

Soyeon nudged Yoongi, who rolled his eyes and whispered, "Already kiss, what the fuck."

Jungkook and ____ both turned bright red, feeling embarrassed and shy. They didn't want to admit that they had feelings for each other, but the way they looked at each other spoke volumes.

Namjoon noticed the way Jungkook and ____ were avoiding eye contact and decided to break the ice. "Who wants to play a game?" He suggested, pulling out a deck of cards from his backpack.

Everyone cheered, eager to take their minds off the awkwardness between Jungkook and ____. They played card games and laughed together, enjoying each other's company in a carefree and relaxed manner.

As the night drew to a close, Jungkook and ____ found themselves sitting next to each other once again. This time, there was no crowd around them, just the soft glow of the moonlight.

Jungkook took a deep breath and turned to her. All their friends were already gone. "I have something to say," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

____'s heart skipped a beat as she looked into Jungkook's eyes. She could see the sincerity and vulnerability in his gaze, and it made her heart flutter.

"I know we've been friends for a long time," Jungkook continued, "but I want you to know that I have feelings for you. I don't want to ruin our friendship, but I can't keep these feelings inside any longer."

____ felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she looked at Jungkook with a mixture of surprise and joy. She had always suspected that Jungkook had feelings for her too.

Hell. Everyone knew it.

"I… I don't know what to say," she stammered, feeling overwhelmed by emotions. "I care about you too, Jungkook."

Jungkook smiled softly, taking her hand in his own. "That's all I need to know," he said, "and I want to explore this further with you. If you're willing to give us a chance."

____ nodded eagerly, feeling her heart swell with happiness. She leaned in, and the kiss was slow, filled with the promise of something new and beautiful. From that moment on, they were no longer just friends - they were something more special than either of them had ever experienced before, the cliché friends to lovers Jungkook loved to watch in dramas.

He just hoped they would find no bumps in their journey.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x yn #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #bts reaction #bts fic #bts drabble

[eras-mus]

HIII I HAD A THOIGHT THAT HAS BEEN KILLING MY MIND AND I NEED TO TELL IT TO SOMEONE OTHERWISE IM GNA EXPLODE

get this . everyone chilling at ramshackle dorm doing their own thing, yuu (and grimm by extension), ace and deuce sitting by the table talking about whatever crosses their mind

Eventually the conversation escalates to birthdays and holidays and ace asks how old Yuu is. Azul interjects with saying Yuu's age from the contract they signed a few months ago, but then Yuu pipes up and tells them that they're one year older than that.

Theres a small moment of confusion until it dawns onto Deuce that Yuy's birthday was a month or two ago and they never spoke a peep about it. Not even to grimm!! And when asked, Yuy makes an excuse like "that was when __ was kind of close to overblotting and I didn't want to make it about me because that'd be so nitpicky—"

It was based off an audio i heard and idk if i want to write it into a short drabble for myself i probably cant since im only on book 2 ueue). But like. its a fun prompt methinks. what would all of them do when they find out Yuu deliberately didn't say a thing about their birthday

🎉

THAT WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY???

★Reader is Yuu and is 17 years old

★gender neutral

★takes place after the third book

Sorry it's short, hope you like it!

-

"Can we start yet!" Ace complained, head slamming onto the table.

"I told you we're waiting on a couple more people." The perfect told him "I invited Kalim and Azul to join us since Sebek and Jack couldn't make it"

Tonight was the Ramshackle dorms weekly game night, normally it was just the freshmen but Sebek said that Malleus 'needs' his protection and Jack was just to tired from Spell Drive practice.

"They outta hurry up" Epel started, country accent slightly showing through "don't they know it's rude to be late."

A awkward silence fell over the dorm for a moment before a knock echoes through the dorm.

When y/n opened the dorm they were greeted with a cheerful smile and a hug.

"Thank you so much for inviting me!" Kalim smiled "I hope you don't mind that I brought Jamil, I also brought food, well Jamil did, he made it!"

Y/n blinked for a moment, taking in all the words one guy manged to say so fast. They looked over Kalim's shoulder just in time to see Jamil face plant.

"Thank you for the food Jamil" They smiled, giving him a wave.

"If was the least I could do perfect" he stated, not returning the wave.

Luckily Azul showed up before y/n could shut the door.

Just a few minutes later the group was playing some sort of trivia card game where they would either have to answer a question about someone else playing, a question about themselves, or just a random fact. If they got it wrong the next person would answer the same card, whoever got the most questions right won.

"Who is the most followed person in Magi Cam?" Epel read, "That's easy, Neige"

He revealed the answer to show it was correct.

"Of course you would get that one right" Ace complained "Vil never stops going on about it"

Every one just ignoring him looked over at Deuce, who was next to pick a card.

"How old is the person sitting to your right?" He looked over at y/n. "I'm not sure...18?"

They just shook their head.

"I know this one" Azul butted in, ready to take another point "Our contract from a while ago said that they were 16."

One again y/n shook their head. "I just turn 17 last month"

The room went silent for what seemed like forever.

"WE MISSED YOUR BIRTHDAY!" They all shouted in union.

"Riddle is going to have a heart attack when he finds out" Deuce commented, Ace nodding in agreement.

"You should've said something, we could've had a huge party" Kalim whined.

Y/n scratch the back of their head, "It's not big deal, it was right after one of the overblots, plus where I'm from birthdays aren't that big of a deal."

"Jamil we need to plan a party right now" Kalim said, getting up from his seat.

"We have to too" Ace said "Or get Trey and Riddle to do it for us"

Soon everyone had said something similar and got up and left leaving a confused Ramshackle perfect.

#kalim al asim #Jamil viper #azul ashengrotto #ace trapolla #deuce spade #epel felmier #grim twst #twst yuu #twst x reader #twst scenarios #twst x male reader #twst x female reader #Twst x reader

[honeyedmiller]

Mystery | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, teasing, sensual dancing, no outbreak, no use of y/n. 18+, minors do not interact.

word count: 1k+

synopsis: Tommy drags Joel to a club which he detests to, until he sets his sights on you.

if you really wanna catch the vibes for this one shot i highly suggest listening to Black Magic Woman by Santana as this is literally based off of this song

-

“Still don’t understand why the hell you’re draggin’ me to this damn club. ‘M too old to be clubbin’, Tommy.” Joel shakes his head as he rests it against the headrest of the passenger seat of Tommy’s truck.

“It’s for your own good, big brother. Work’s been stressin’ you lots. Y’need to relax.” Tommy lightly chastised his older brother with a small curl of a smile on his lips.

“What I need is an ice cold beer while I’m watchin’ the Cowboys playin’… at home.” Joel grunts, looking out of the passenger window.

Austin’s nightlife was crawling with young men and women down the streets where they could all bar hop, go clubbing, or grab a bite to eat. Everyone looked to be around Tommy’s age, meanwhile, Joel felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb.

He wasn’t even old, albeit he sure as hell felt like it. Probably looked like it too, to all these youngins in their mid-twenties.

Nerves and anxiety twisted in Joel’s gut. It’d been ages since he’d been out, especially to a club. He truly had no idea what the hell Tommy was thinking bringing him along, but he went just so Tommy would stop nagging him.

Brothers.

Younger ones, to be exact.

Tommy lucked out with a parking spot near the club’s entrance. The two brothers got out of the car, Joel immediately noticing people—women—were looking Tommy’s way. Hell, even men too.

Tommy walked very confidently. He was suave, collected, and knew exactly how to get what he wanted when he had his eyes zeroed in on the lady he wanted to talk to for the night.

On the other hand, Joel was a hell of a lot more reserved. Quiet, kept his hands tucked into his jean pockets, and was truly oblivious to every person who looked his way.

The bouncer knew Tommy well enough apparently, because he let him and Joel right into the club.

To Joel’s surprise, the club was actually playing decent music. There were plenty of people on the dance floor having a good time, and the smoke-ridden atmosphere was rather calm despite it being so packed.

“C’mon, let’s get a drink.” Tommy jerked his head toward the bar, and Joel followed suit.

“Tommy man, how the hell are ya?” The bartender shouts, bringing Tommy in for a quick hug.

“I’m good, Sam. Brought my brother Joel with me this time.” Tommy nods toward Joel, and Sam’s eyes shift to Joel. He stuck out his hand, which Joel shook.

“Nice to meet you, Joel.”

“Likewise.”

“What can I get for you fellas?” Sam asks, wiping his hands on the white rag slung over his shoulder.

“I’ll take a Modelo.” Tommy says.

“I’ll take whatever whiskey you got. Neat.”

Sam nods and pours up both of their drinks, setting them on the counter. Tommy hands over his card to Sam and tells him to keep a tab open.

“So what exactly do you plan on me doin’ here, Tommy?” Joel looks at his brother, taking a sip of his whiskey. It burned so good, making him grimace a bit.

“I already said it, big brother. Just relax. Dance. Have fun. Don’t fuckin’ think about shit for one night, yeah?” Tommy grabs Joel’s shoulder and squeezes it. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna head on out to the dance floor to find myself a nice lady to dance with.”

And just like that, Joel is left at the bar all alone. He doesn’t mind it too much. It gives him the opportunity to scope out the place and see what all the patrons are up to. He keeps sipping his whiskey slowly, eyes scanning the dance floor when he immediately stops.

He spots who’s got to be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in his life, dancing the night away with her girlfriends.

Something about the way she moved was so enthralling, so captivating.

That woman happened to be you.

Joel couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Just like him, you tagged along with your group of friends to de-stress from the hell of a week you’ve had. Clubbing was your friends’ solution to relaxing. It took you a bit of coaxing, but now that you’re out and dancing, you’re glad you came with them.

“I’m gonna go get a drink.” You wrapped your hands around one of your friend’s arms, notifying them. They nod at you and ask if you want them to come with, to which you declined.

As you made your way across the dance floor, you spotted a man sitting at the bar that was already just blatantly staring at you. You found it a bit odd, but you had to admit, he was extremely handsome.

Rugged features and soft, dark brown eyes. What a mix.

You made it up to the bar and knocked on it twice, as if Sam could easily hear it. Sam saw you anyway and gave you a big smile.

“What’ll it be, sweets?” Sam asked.

You leaned over the bar right next to Joel, wearing a strapless corset top, skinny jeans that showed off your curves in every single right place, and some strap black heels that made your legs look like they went on for miles.

“Whiskey, neat please.” Your voice was sweet, Joel thought. Buttery. Thick and nearly addicting, and you’d only said three goddamn words.

Sam handed you your drink, and you grinned at him. “Thanks Sam!” You took your drink and sat down two barstools away from Joel.

Joel wanted to look at you some more, but he knew he’d be clocked as a total creep if he did that. He just wanted to admire you. Admire your features, the way your hands curled around the glass as you brought the glass up to your mouth, the way your red lipstick painted said glass once you took a sip.

You were a sight to behold, and Joel was fucking bewitched.

The man didn’t believe in love at first sight, but god, he might just believe in it now.

You looked over at Joel who was trying hard not to look at you as he swirled what was left in his glass. He glanced up at you when he felt your stare on him. Your lips were adorned with a soft smile, and he easily returned one.

You slipped out of your seat and into the one next to Joel, crossing a leg over the other as you faced him.

“Noticed you were staring.” You chuckle, and petrification crosses his features. His neck and ears burn bright red, and he looked down at his glass once more.

“‘M sorry. Just couldn’t help it. You’re beautiful.” He said shyly, and he was kicking himself for being so timid.

He just quite literally hadn’t done this in so long. He forgot how to have a normal conversation with someone he found so attractive. How to flirt. How to do anything when it came to women.

It’s like his brain completely short circuited, but you found it charming in a way. At least he wasn’t some douchebag trying to hit on you just to get in your pants.

“It’s okay. Thank you,” You chuckle, putting a hand on his knee. He froze at your touch, feeling like his body was on fire. No one’s ever had this type of effect on him. “What’s your name?”

He clears his throat and reminds himself to stop acting like a total fucking weirdo. To breathe. A gorgeous woman was talking to him. He couldn’t blow it.

“Name’s Joel.” He raised his glass to you, and you grin. You clink your glass with his, shoot the rest of the whiskey down and hop off the barstool. Joel’s mood faltered for a second, thinking that you were leaving him at the bar.

“Nice to meet you, Joel. Come dance with me.” Your doe eyes and pretty pout of the lips was something Joel couldn’t deny, no matter how much he wasn’t a fan of dancing. He downed the rest of his whiskey as well, leaving the glass on the sticky maplewood bar top before taking your hand that you had held out to him.

You led him to the dance floor, facing him as the current song was ending, and Black Magic Woman by Santana started to play through the speakers.

“I love this song.” You say into Joel’s ear, and he grins and you and nods in agreement. His hands find home on your waist and yours on the back of his neck, and the both of you start to move.

You were impressed by how great of a lead Joel was. The man didn’t like dancing much, but he was a hell of a dancer.

You swayed your hips to the beat, Joel easily keeping up as his grip on your waist tightened in the slightest. You stared into his dark brown eyes, a feeling of neediness surging over the both of you.

All you saw was him in that very moment. You both moved fluidly across the dance floor, unaware of all of the wandering eyes coming to rest their gaze on you both.

Once the guitar riff started to play, Joel spun you around so your back was against his front.

Got a black magic woman,

Got a black magic woman,

I’ve got a black magic woman

Got me so blind I can’t see

That she’s a black magic woman

She’s tryin’ to make a devil out of me

You leaned your head back onto Joel’s shoulder and reached your arm up, grabbing the back of his neck as your other hand grabbed the other one of his that rested on your hip.

He was feeling on the bolder side, so he slotted his face into the crook of your neck, resting his lips on your warm flesh. He leaves a ghost of a kiss in one spot before moving his lips up to your ear.

“So fuckin’ beautiful.” Is all he says before you look up at him with a saccharine smile, spinning out from him.

Don’t turn your back on me baby,

Don’t turn your back on me baby,

Yes don’t turn your back on me, baby,

Stop messin’ ‘round with your tricks

Don’t turn your back on me, baby,

You just might pick up my magic sticks

Joel’s grip on your hands was solid as he spun you around twice, catching you by your hips to pull you flush against his body. At this point you two were grinding yourselves into each other while still managing to maneuver around the dance floor, footing in sync.

It began to feel extremely hot in the club as your body moved with his, aware of him and only him. His scent, his eyes on you, the way your body seemed to fit perfectly with his.

You’d only just met the man a mere ten minutes ago, and yet, you found yourself so drawn to him. So attracted to him. He seemed to feel the same, the way he was looking at you like you were the only other person in the room.

Got your spell on me baby,

You got your spell on me, baby,

Yes, you got your spell on me, baby,

Turning my heart into stone

I need you so bad magic woman

I can’t leave you alone

As the song came to an end, Joel spun you around twice more before dipping you down, clutching onto your body so tightly as reassurance to you that he’s got you.

His face was only a mere few inches away from yours. Both of you were entranced, staring into each other’s eyes as your ragged breaths were slowly becoming more normal.

Both of you came back to reality when you heard people cheering for the both of you, looking around at your surroundings to realize that there’s been a space in the dance floor people left just for the two of you.

Joel stood you upright, hands still not leaving your hips.

You smirked up at the man, leaning up to leave a kiss on his pulsating neck, which left a bright, puckered shape lipstick stain in its wake.

“Thanks for dancing with me, Joel.” Your hands pat his chest softly twice before going to walk away from him, but he abruptly stops you by gently tugging on your wrist.

“Wait, darlin’, what’s your name?” He asks, throat going dry as you give him a sultry stare.

Your red lips form into a smirk as you wink at him, turning to walk away into the once more crowded dance floor, leaving him in the middle of the sea of patrons.

He was too stunned to even follow after you. Too stunned to move, think, anything, until Tommy pulled him out of his trance when he gripped his brother’s shoulder.

“Who the hell was that?” Tommy asks, looking just as bewildered as Joel.

“I… have no idea.” He breathed, putting his hand over where you kissed him on the neck.

That night, at the club, after him and Tommy went home, and as he laid himself to sleep, he was praying to whatever god of fates was out there that he was able to find his mystery woman once more.

tags: @ilovepedro ; @party-hearses ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @nostalxgic ; @cool-iguana

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller imagines #no outbreak!joel miller #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot #joel miller fanfiction

[xoxoavenger]

I Only Need Ten

pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, BestFriend!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

summary: when Eddie decided to go no contact with Y/N after a drunk night, his worst nightmares come to life at a party (based on scene from Daisy Jones and the Six)

word count: 2896

warnings: drug use (cocaine), over dose, terrible boyfriend (the oc not eddie), a small mention of murder and killing (deserved tho), near death experience

masterlist

"I think you're delusional." Steve says as him and Y/N walked up to the party, Robin practically running ahead to get there quicker. It was her first time at a party that was barred from high schoolers, meaning it would probably have hard drugs. Parties weren't usually her scene, but she was ready tonight. Y/N had been hyping it up for ages, begging Robin for years to go - since the younger got out of high school.

"Do you ever let anything go?" Y/N asked, already slurring her words. Steve rolled his eyes as he grabbed the bottle from her hands, one of his own wrapping around her arm when she stumbled a bit. "God, I mean, I think if Eddie liked me he would have said something." Of course they were arguing about Y/N's new boyfriend, her rebound from Eddie after they drunkenly made out and passed out with each other's hands halfway down their pants. Eddie made it very clear he wasn't interested after he slipped out before she woke up and avoided her like the plague, not answering any of her calls and leaving her to talk to Wayne awkwardly.

"Maybe he's afraid." Steve said, wincing as he took a long swig of the hard liquor she had procured; he already felt the hangover. Unfortunately the massive amounts of partying he had done in high school did not help as he got older. Just smelling alcohol aged him ten years.

"Please," Y/N snorted, walking through the people that were in the lawn, music blaring even outside. On the patio table someone was cutting cocaine, and before Steve could stop her she was breathing it in and throwing her head back in a laugh.

"Alright," Steve grabbed her and pulled her into the house, hoping she would only do one line. When Y/N was heart broken, she tended to go a little overboard. Her boyfriend wasn't very good at stopping her, and Steve didn't trust him.

"Steve, come on! Don't act like you're such aaaa," She trailed off, not knowing what to say. "I don't have a good comeback." She laughed loudly, and Steve took another swig of the drink. This was gonna be a long night.

~

"You are such an idiot." Dustin magically appeared at Eddie's side, holding a beer in hand like he did this every night. The two were leaning against a counter in the kitchen, where you could see everyone going in and out.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Eddie yanked the beer away, spilling half of it as Dustin protested, "C'mon, man! I'm seventeen now!"

"And what if Steve sees you?" Eddie knew it was a trump card, since last month Steve had been forced to pick up the kids from a party after it was busted and Will threw up in the roses out front. He hadn't said anything that night, picking them up and taking them to his house, calling Mike's mom to tell her they were all safe and had crashed at his place after meeting up with Eddie. He held El's hair back when she threw up, multiple times, and got them orange juice in the morning while Dustin lived in the bathroom. And then lectured them for an hour and told them that while he would always pick them up when they needed, he was going to tell their parents and let them deal with that next time.

"Steve's gonna be here?" Dustin looked around, but he didn't see Steve. Eddie wasn't even sure how Dustin got into this party; he has seen high schoolers get kicked out at least four times in the last fifteen minutes of him standing in the kitchen and looking for Y/N.

"Yeah, I think he's coming with Robin and Y/N." Eddie tried not to seem weird when he said her name, but Dustin was a perceptive little shit.

"We all know you two have a thing going on." While they all knew that Y/N and Eddie did in fact have some tension, the teenagers were not aware of exactly what had transpired a couple weeks prior.

"You don't know shit." Eddie chugged Dustin's beer, grabbing his arm as he tried to leave before he could go get a new one.

"I know plenty of shit." Dustin rolled his eyes, shrugging Eddie off and walking away, definitely going to grab another beer. Seems Steve's threats didn't work very well.

"Don't say I didn't warn you!" Eddie shouted, leaning against the counter and drinking out of his own cup filled with something a little bit harder.

He wanted to get wasted.

~

"Where's Blake?" Y/N slurred as she looked around. Her eye caught more coke on a corner counter, and when she lit up Steve felt himself tense.

"Have a cig," Steve pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, hoping it would distract Y/N enough that she would temporarily forget about the cocaine that she definitely did not need. He was just about to light it for her when he saw Dustin walk by with a beer in his hand.

That little punk.

"Dustin!" Steve yelled, mind filling with rage at the fact that Dustin had not learned at all from him. "Hey, come here, you little shit!" Steve was off, looking over heads to track Dustin as he snaked through the crowd.

Y/N immediately forgot about the unlit cigarette as soon as Steve was gone.

"Babe!" Blake threw an arm around Y/N as she came up from snorting a line, not even giving her time to breathe before putting a cold hand to her face and kissing her breathless.

Eddie watched the whole thing, watched as Blake threw back his drink and took a hit in one breath, watched the couple laugh and kiss messily. He couldn't take it, seeing her with him. He knew he had fucked up, that knowing her rejection would have been better than this.

He walked away, going to help Steve corral the other little shits that had snuck into the party before they got into serious trouble.

~

Y/N wasn't sure what she was laughing at. All she really knew was Blake had just pushed her off the bed they were jumping on, but her head was fuzzy and her body was heavy, so maybe he was doing her a favor. She liked laying on the floor, breathing deeply.

"Do you ever stop laughing!" Blake yelled at her, making her head spin even more. Suddenly, she felt less of the fun fuzzy feeling and more unclear and in the dark. What was going on?

She could barely breathe, she didn't feel in control of her own body. She could feel her brain shutting down as she closed her eyes. The panic set in when she was unable to open them more than slits, but it was quickly replaced by nothingness.

Across the party, El was screaming.

She was yelling incoherently at Eddie, who felt way too sober for everything. Max and Will and Mike were at her sides, trying to get her to calm down, but she was hitting the older man, grabbing his jacket and pointing up the stairs. He almost put her over his shoulder to walk out, thinking she was clearly wasted, when he heard something he knew was actually English.

"It's Y/N!" That got Eddie moving, running to the last bedroom he had seen Y/N go into. He had kept an eye on her, had watched her get progressively more unhinged and high, but he thought Blake had it. He is her boyfriend after all, and the last thing Eddie wanted to do was intrude.

How could he have been so stupid?

Steve marched behind him, the kids bee-lining to follow. Once Eddie got to the door and found it locked, he pounded on it so hard it rattled the walls.

"Blake? You motherfucker, you better get out of there before I break this goddamn door down!" Eddie's voice was deep and loud, making the kids shiver. They had never heard him sound like this. Blake unlocked the door to stick his head out.

"Go the fuck away, freak." Blake said, but he seemed out of breath and his voice was too high.

"Where's Y/N?" Eddie demanded, trying to push through the door.

"She's fine. Everything's fine. Just go." He rushed out, still trying to shut the door on Eddie. "Go, please." He begged, setting off warning bells all throughout Eddie's head.

"Open the door." Eddie seethed, tilting his head in anger.

"No," Blake started, shaking his head and pushing.

"Open the fucking door." Eddie pounded once more against the half open door, red hot rage engulfing him as he could think of nothing else but Y/N. The way Blake had said that she was fine so quickly, wanting him to leave, it didn't sit right with Eddie.

"She's not your's, man! You had a chance," Before he could finish his sentence Steve and Lucas were helping Eddie open the door; it was overkill, and Blake lost the fight quickly.

"Y/N?" He called looking around. It didn't take long to find her on the ground, unmoving. She looked uncomfortable laying there, not right.

Eddie's heart dropped so far it cracked the carpet.

"Oh my fuck," He ran to her, hands cupping her face. "Y/N? Y/N." He repeated her name over and over again as he lightly slapped her face, waiting for her to open her eyes. When she didn't he pressed his head to her chest, but he felt no movement.

"Holy shit," Dustin muttered as Eddie let out a quiet sob, the younger man stepping back slightly as he took in the scene.

"Steve!" Eddie called, not daring to look away from Y/N. "She's not breathing, man!" He could barely get the words out, his throat constricting in time with his wildly beating heart.

"No, no," Max's hands went to her mouth, feeling Lucas behind her. She turned into him and he cradled her head to his shoulder, making sure she wouldn't see the scene in front of them.

"Y/N? All right, all right, all right." He was convincing himself that she was fine, that any second now she was gonna gasp for air and laugh and he would kiss her senseless. He had been stupid to not talk to her, to not hear her out. Now, as he maneuvered her into his arms, he felt sick at the thought that he had lost time with her. "It's okay, I'm here, Y/N." He pulled her around and made sure her head was tilted up, not realizing how much he was shaking. He tried to calm himself by rocking back and forth.

"Dustin, go find a phone, call the cops, don't give any names. If we can't get her awake, they'll help." Steve ordered, taking charge of everyone before they could continue freaking out. "Will, go with him. El and Mike, go find Nancy. Tell her Y/N overdosed, that she's nonresponsive. The rest of you, tell Nancy to give you her keys and go to her car. Keep your heads down, we don't have time to bail any of you out of jail." The kids moved quickly, leaving him, Blake, Y/N and Eddie in the room.

"Y/N? Y/N." He was still repeating her name, smacking her lightly with the arm wrapped around her head, knowing he would do anything to see her chest move again, hear her heart beat.

"It's gonna be okay," Steve said, but Eddie wasn't listening.

"C'mon." Eddie begged, only looking up when Steve yelled out at someone. He saw Blake moving to the door, halfway out of it. "What the fuck are you doing?" Eddie yelled, head melting at the fact that here he was, holding Blake's girlfriend as she died while Blake was leaving.

"I'm sorry, I, I can't be here, so, um, I'll, I'm sorry," And with that stuttering mess Blake ran out the door, leaving Steve and Eddie alone with Y/N. The two didn't have time to be angry at Blake, too focused on Y/N.

"Steve?" Someone called from the hallway.

"In here!" Steve yelled back, and Eddie was relieved to see it was Nancy holding a white cloth.

"Put this here," Nancy slid to her knees in front of Y/N and Eddie, Robin and Jonathan trailing behind her with horror-stricken looks. Nancy pressed the cloth, which smelled strongly of alcohol, onto Y/N's nose as Eddie held her head up, tears beginning to run down his face.

"All right, stay with me. Stay with me." He begged, not letting himself think about what would happen if this didn't work. "Wake up. Wake up." He gripped her tighter, tears falling off his face and onto hers.

"Hold on," Nancy muttered, because this wasn't working. Y/N still lay unmoving in Eddie's arms.

"Please. Please, please, please, please." He had never begged for something this hard in his life, had never wanted so badly to be able to go back in time and change everything. He felt the guilt of this. He knew it was his fault. If he hadn't pushed her away, too afraid to face his fears, he would have been with her tonight. "Please don't, please don't." Someone was rubbing his back, telling him to breathe, but all he could think was that he wasn't the one that needed help. He felt the air draw out of him, the room closing in as more time passed without Y/N opening her eyes.

Eddie pulled her as close to his chest as possible, pressing kisses to her forehead in between muttered prayers and pleas for her to just stay with him, to breathe and open her eyes.

"Please," He muttered once more, raising his head to the ceiling and calling on anyone who was listening to help him. When he looked down again, Y/N's eyes were open - hooded and dilated, but she was responsive.

"It's you." She whispered, looking at him for a moment longer as he put his hand to her cheek before she closed her eyes once more, this time still breathing.

"The cops are here!" Robin called from the window, and everyone started moving. Steve and Eddie picked Y/N up, who's eyes are closing an opening at the rate of a turtle's.

"C'mon, we gotta go," Steve encourages, and Eddie has never been so grateful for someone who knew what to do. Usually, he likes to be in charge, likes to take control of situations, but right now he can't think. He's straining his ears as if he could hear her heartbeat somehow.

"She's not conscious." Eddie tells Steve, who silently leans down to help Y/N up. They had her arms over their shoulders, her feet dragging on the floor as the two boys carry her out.

"I'm gonna fucking kill him." Steve mutters as they get to Nancy's car, people running around and creating the perfect cover.

"I'm getting to him first." Eddie isn't seeing red yet, because he has to get Y/N to safety, but he knows as soon as she's okay he's going to go insane.

It takes three seconds for Y/N to be placed into the care of Robin, who looks up and expects Eddie and Steve to climb in.

"Make sure she's okay." Eddie says. He's already imagining every way he's going to hurt Blake.

"What?" Robin barely says before Steve is slamming the door shut and walking back into the house.

The men are lit by red and blue police lights as they make their way back into the house.

"Hey!" A hand on Eddie's shoulder stops him, which should top them off that they know this person because they went for Eddie's shoulder knowing Steve would wait. Eddie would not have had Steve been the one who was stopped. "What the hell are you two doing?" Hopper is standing there when they turn, arms crossed.

"I have to go kill someone." Eddie says, as if he isn't talking to the chief of police.

"Can I ask why?" Hopper doesn't seem very concerned, but he's sure Eddie is telling the truth by how angry he looks.

"You don't wanna know, Hop." Steve starts, knowing that Y/N won't get in trouble from him but not sure he wants to expose her.

"Are the kids okay?" Hopper asks, concerned.

"We got them out." Steve can tell Eddie is itching to break some bones, and he's not sure how happy Hopper would be about that.

"What happened to Y/N?" Hopper knows that the only reason Steve and Eddie would be marching into a party together is her.

"Hop," Steve starts, knowing that if they tell Hopper he'll probably tell them to leave so he can arrest the jackass. He needs to pummel Blake's face himself. He needs to let Eddie almost kill him and pull him back before any murdering actually occurs.

"She ODed and he pushed her off the bed before he left her not breathing on the ground." Eddie is about to turn around when Hopper grabs his arm. "You're gonna have to arrest me to keep me off of him, and if you're gonna do it you better do it now."

"Listen to me," Hopper says quietly, looking around to make sure the other officers are all doing something else. "I will keep them away from you. Whatever happens in the next fifteen minutes, I don't know about it. When I find him, it better look like a fight gone wrong and not a homicide. Got it?" His voice scared Steve, but invigorated Eddie.

"I only need ten." 

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @sadbitchfangirl @gloryekaterina @alexshaff2002 @m-rae23 @icequeen1371 @mcueveryday @xxhellfiregirlxx @parkershoco @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @peculiarwren

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #best friend steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine