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residenthughes · 3 months

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opera house - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x afab reader

word count: 2.5k

tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, oral sex (m on f), dirty talk (if you can call it that?), no mention of y/n, pet names (baby, princess)

summary: reading is your favourite pastime. jack makes it harder than anticipated.

notes: so...🫣 this happened. it's a small little thing that started out with me just wanting to write about how pretty jack is only to turn into the respectful pile of filth. don't write smut much so apologies if this isn't to your liking, but hopefully i'll be back with something better. also, the sentence in italics is a quote from the book mentioned in the fic. much love! <3

As the cold November climate nips at your flesh and colours the sky in hues of grey, you nestle in the cosiness of your home, warm and sheltered with your treasured fuzzy socks on as you curl up on your bed with one of the books you’ve been meaning to read. Jack says it’s a bad habit of yours: buying books that collect dust on your shelf, to which you quickly argue that he’s the one enabling your ‘bad habit’ by constantly buying them for you - your Goodreads profile bookmarked in his phone for safe keeping. An endearing act of service, all of which he is no stranger to - gifting said books in the form of a bouquet every time he leaves for a long road trip, taking out the trash because he knows it’s your least favourite chore, curling up with you now, sweetly bundled in between your legs as you two find peace in the silence you share. It’s like a warm hot chocolate on a chilly day like today, your connection smooth and comforting, wrapping you in the warmth of its embrace.

You peer beyond the top of your book, catching an eyeful of the back of Jack’s head and his loose curls, the soft clicks of his gamer control sounding as his eyes focus on the TV screen a few metres ahead. Your sugary thoughts of how endearing your long-term boyfriend can be - always is - overflow like lava, the smile on your face terribly enamoured as your fingers card through his hair, curling the soft locks around your index finger.

Like clockwork, Jack leans into your touch, slouching further into his position in between your thighs, laying a chilly cheek against the flesh of your thighs.

You squirm against the brush of his eyelashes against your skin. “That tickles.”

“Uh huh,” he absently answers, tapping away at his gamer control. “Does this?”

A delicate kiss marks you, Jack’s head going back to laying against your thigh as he directs his attention to the game set out against the TV.

“No,” you blush. “But, that was nice.”

A huff of amusement sounds from Jack and instantly, you know what position you've put yourself in by saying that. “Bet it was. Aren’t you busy with that book of yours?”

You bite back, the muscles of your thighs tightening their grip around your boyfriend. “Sometimes a distraction is necessary.”

The clicks of his gamer control halt and silence envelopes the room, your eyebrow raised as his on-screen character dies as a result of his negligence.

Jack clears his throat, his body shuffling against yours as he readjusts his position, restarting the game. “Maybe you’re right about that, baby.”

A pout remains settled against your lips as your eyes squint at your partner, your suspicion towards his action not enough to distract you from the habitual motion of your fingers as they thread through Jack’s hair. You raise your opened book back to eye-level, not batting an eyelash.

It’s when you’ve gotten perhaps three sentences into your book that Jack breaks the silence. “What’s the story about?”

“The book I’m currently reading?” Jack hums in reply. “Oh, it’s a spinoff of a series I’ve been meaning to read. It’s basically a college romance story about a girl aspiring to be on the national ice hockey team and her getting help from this guy she met years ago, called Ryder. Unexpectedly smutty, 10/10 would recommend.”

Jack laughs with you at your nasty comment, body vibrating against yours as his chuckle courses through him. You lower your book again.

“You and your smutty books,” Jack snickers to himself, eyes trained ahead of him. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “In what ways is it unexpectedly smutty?”

Despite how long you’ve been with Jack and the comfort you've established living alongside him, the question does make you a bit flustered, crimsoning as you look away, avoiding any view of him. “Well, it’s pretty raunchy up front. Like how they’ve done some naughty things in the shower - quite tame, but I’ve also just read that Ryder did some things when they went to go see the opera.”

“What things?” Jack asks, point blank.

Now, it’s time for you to clear your throat. Cheeks tinted. “Do I even have to say, Jack?”

The pause screen displays itself against the TV, the clicks of his controller no more as Jack shifts once again within your grasp, body turning as he lays his stomach against the comfort of the mattress, pools of azure staring into yours. Your heart thuds in your chest.

“Yes, I wanna hear what things you’re reading,” he says easily as if he isn’t inciting violence in your chest right now, the corner of his pink lips curved softly as he tilts his head against your thigh. “All of it.”

Suddenly, the temperature in the room escalates from toasty warm to scorching hot, a familiar flame in the pits of your stomach igniting as you’ve somehow found yourself in such a predicament - backed into a corner and at a loss for words.

“He,” you stammer, averting your eyes because all Jack’s eyes do is look at you, his burning gaze elevating the heat that dances against the surface of your cheeks. “He fingers her in the opera.”

You whisper that last part but Jack hears you judging by the faint chuckle coming from him. “He fingers who at the opera?”

He accents his point with a kiss against your thigh, this time the gesture conjuring a polar opposite sensation as goosebumps riddle your skin. You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t known you were holding, looking again at your partner to still find him looking right back at you, eyelids heavy and eyes dark. You have to look away.

You gulp. “Gigi - her name is Gigi.”

You finally muster some sort of courage you’ve had to find within your situation when you hear Jack shift again, eyes capturing your boyfriend’s arms coming up to circle around your thighs, eyes never leaving yours as his hands find purchase against your skin, thumbs absently caressing the surface much like you did earlier with his hair.

“Is that short for something?” Jack accents his question with another kiss, his touch searing.

“No,” you gulp, voice foolishly unsteady as your eyes study Jack’s movements with caution. “I mean, Ryder jokes that her name is Gisele, but that’s-”

“Guys like to tease,” he kisses a little higher against your thigh as if to prove his point. “Especially with girls they like.”

“I don’t think that’s appreciated, Jack.”

You’re talking about a completely different thing now - a conversation within a conversation.

“I don’t know about that, baby,” whilst still staring at you, his teeth manage to nip at a small sliver of your skin, numbness plaguing your limbs. “Read it to me.”

Your brows knit together, puzzled as ever. “What?”

“You heard me,” declares Jack, his kisses abundantly littering the expanse of your thigh as your mind begins to spiral. “Read it to me.”

Your mind is frazzled, brain working overtime to comprehend the sudden turn of events, all the while Jack takes it upon himself to sit pretty in between your legs and touch you as if made from porcelain - delicate and tender, a sharp contrast to the emotions bathing you in lust. Jack glances up at you one more time, button nose nuzzling against your inner thigh as he gives you a knowing look, his lips preoccupied. You obey wordlessly, uneasy eyes still on him as you bring your book back upwards, its previous position altered so you can manage to steal a look at Jack out of your peripheral.

Out loud, you begin to read to him the aftermath of the opera scene, a more tame development following as you manage to get through the next page unscathed. Jack’s kisses at first, are a bit distracting and have your voice betray you, but they’re sporadic and by the time you’ve turned the page, you’re already used to the sensation. You even achieve some comfort in his touch, but that doesn’t last long because when you’re in the midst of your storytelling, you feel Jack’s fingers hook around your shorts’ waistband.

Immediately, you lower your book, a chill running down your spine. “What are you doing?”

He bats his long eyelashes, almost mockingly. “Listening to you.”

“Jack.” For once, your tone is firm, watching aimlessly as he inches the material past your hip bones.

“Lift your hips a little or I won’t be able to get these off you,” he insists, a convincing smile settled amongst his charming features that express his pleasure in this all. “Unless you wanna keep them on?”

It’s a rhetorical question, a trap set up to see if you’ll bite and despite it all, the excitement of what’s to come leads you right where Jack wants you. Lifting your hips with an embarrassing ache in between your legs as you lie in anticipation, continuing on with your reading as Jack goes back to teasing you endlessly.

“Gettin’ pretty worked up over this story, huh?” echoes Jack. “I can tell.”

To demonstrate the meaning of his words, he blows a cool breeze against you that makes you mewl and draw your thighs closer at the sensation. Heart thudding against your chest, your bewildered gaze gravitates back to Jack who kisses you through the fabric of your underwear and has you fumbling for words.

“I didn’t say you could stop reading,” Jack removes his lips, peering up at you with a look that melts you into a pathetic pool of yourself. “You stop, I stop. Sound fair?”

That sounds anything but fair, but who are you to say so? He clearly holds all the power in this situation, you dancing right in the palm of his hand. This has escalated beyond a point of no return and you’re not backing out now so you oblige, opening your mouth to read but uttering out nothing more than a moan as Jack pulls your underwear to the side, his fingers gliding through your wet folds.

“So satisfying to tease you when your reactions are this good,” he rasps, followed by a low chuckle as his calloused fingertip circles around your clit, eliciting the buck of your hips and the waiver in your voice. “Anyways, you were saying?”

You’re grasping for straws here, trying to tie yourself down to the little sanity (and patience) you have as your frantic eyes try and find where you last left off, straying away every couple of words as Jack does nothing more than use his fingers to distract you.

“Words, baby. Use your words,” he instructs, and it’s the sexist thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “We follow...”

“We follow..the people,” you falter, voice wobbly. “We follow the people in…”

Somewhere in that sentence, a hefty exhale blows past your mouth as Jack moves two fingers into you, the curl of them accentuating the end of your sentence with a moan.

“Always sound so pretty with my fingers in you,” muses Jack, tone low and memorised as he works said fingers in and out of you, your slick building all around his fingers. “Can’t get enough of it.”

You do a subpar job of reading the next few lines as Jack’s fingers pick up the pace, moving deeper in you to milk every reaction you give him mixed in with your slurred words. Your attempt at remaining coherent diminishes completely when Jack’s lips find their way to your swollen clit, a light press of the lips against the hood of your clit before he’s sucking on the bud.

Your words come out in stutters, voice trembling pathetically as he wraps you around his fingers, making a mess of you in the form of kitten licks against your clit and nibble fingers coaxing your building orgasm out of you. His motions stop every time you get lost in the feeling of him sucking your clit, fingers tangled in his locks of hair. And with a whine, you compel with his previous instructions, reading along with the world’s prettiest distraction in between your legs.

Somehow, you make it to the next page without much delay, Jack’s mouth trained on you as he laps up every bit of you, tongue drawing all kinds of figures against or around your clit. You’re clenching around his fingers more than you can forgive yourself for, body running hot as the sounds of your slick echo throughout the room, the pit in your stomach only growing.

“Just like that, princess,” he hums against your clit, the sensation drawing a tight-lipped whimper from you as your hips follow the vibration. “How many more pages until the chapter’s finished? I don’t think you’re gonna last long.”

And, it’s all true. Body twitching, toes curling and cunt spasming around his fingers that curl in you. Your brain can barely keep up at this point. “So many.”

Jack tsks, his thumb replacing his lips against your clit as he moves it in slow circles. “You think you can hold on till then?”

You answer truthfully, however embarrassing it may be. “No.”

He laughs briefly when he hits that spongy part inside of you, your back bowing off the stacked pillows behind you as Jack continues to hit the exact spot that has you seeing stars.

“How ‘bout a compromise?” Jack starts, your hips lifting to meet the insistent thrust of his fingers. “You tell me how badly you wanna come, and you get to ditch the book whilst I make you come. Sounds good?”

An awfully generous offer considering how your brain has turned to mush and can barely keep up with any of the inked words on the page right now. So, you agree. Enthusiastically.

“Please,” you mewl with a puckered forehead, gazing down at your beautiful boyfriend with his tousled hair and glossy lips. A sight for sore eyes. “Please, J. I wanna come.”

“How bad?” He doesn’t miss a beat, eyes challenge yours.

“So bad,” you keen when his other hand lays over your stomach, applying pressure to the spongy spot that teethers you on the very edge. “Fuck, it’s only you. Only you can…make me feel good. Please, J.”

The begging works. It always works and with that, you drop your book, long discarded amidst the mess of the sheets as your fingers tangle in Jack’s hair as he sucks roughly on your clit again. Rocking up against his mouth, the angle of his fingers renders you completely at his mercy, uttering stuttery breaths as he brings you over the edge, applying pressure in all the right places because he knows your body better than you do, gushing slick flowing from you as you ride out your high, brain reduced to syrup.

He doesn’t even wait before you’ve caught your breath that he sends you a flirtatious wink in between your quivering thighs. “So, opera date next week?”

#jh86 #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes smut #jack hughes imagine #smut #nhl smut #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #jack hughes #residenthughes

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marcsburnerphone · 2 months

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And they were roomates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: some awkward moments, kissing

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7!!!! - part 8

———————

“Look how content he looks, his eyebrows aren’t doing that scowl thing.” Gaz whispers to the boys beside him.

Ghost does a peek over to see the sight but out of all of them he knows best how light of a sleeper John can be, so one look and he quickly he backs up.

“Take a picture.” soap says menacingly.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Ghost says.

Of course Gaz listens to the trouble maker, whipping his phone out of his pocket. The first two photos he takes are from a safe distance but as he goes to take the third he gets closer, too close. The shutter sound accidentally goes off although the ringer is on silent.

It doesn't wake you up no, but the captain's eyes shoot open, the first thing they land on is a phone in his face and he huffs an angry breath. He doesn't make a move nor let out a word in fear of waking you but the look he gives the guys standing behind the couch is deadly enough. They slowly step back and once they're at a safe distance they scurry down the hall.

At some point during the night you ended up completely on top of him. He lays there annoyed with the immature men who woke him up but absolutely thrilled that he can consciously enjoy this moment. Your head placed in the crook of his neck as you huff small breaths, your weight on top of him is almost everything he’s ever needed in this life. The way your hair wafts that familiar light floral scent is captivating. If he died right now he’d be at peace.

“John?” it startles him from his thoughts.

“Yes doll.”

“You're so comfortable.” you whisper into his neck. He laughs while running a comforting hand over your back.

“Did you hear those idiots out here not too long ago?” he asks softly.

“Nope.” you say placing a hand on his chest to lift yourself up into a sitting position. He admires the way your eyes are slightly puffy from sleep, the way your shirt wrinkled in random places. He wants to pull you back down into him, wants to ask for five more minutes. Then he smiles cause he knows one day he’ll be able to.

“Stop staring at me.” You say softly looking away from him.

“Can I take you out tonight?” you turn back to him at that. Rubbing your eyes and smiling.

“Like on a date?”

“Yes, will you grant me your presence for dinner?” he asks hopefully.

“Yeah.” you try to look away and hide the blush that creeps up on your face. He breathes again, he hadn’t known he wasn’t till you answered.

“Okay, em be ready by 6 then.” He inquires.

“Okay well I feel like I can’t just sit here now so I’m gonna go get in the shower.” You stand up nervously. He nods at you trying to hide behind a stoic expression just how giddy he feels inside. He watches you until you disappear around the corner before getting up.

————

“So you asked her out?” John and the boys sit outside, there’s a cigar between John’s lips and the rest of them puff on a cigarette.

“I did.”

“You had to threaten her to say yes, didn't you captain” Ghost jokes with a gruff laugh.

“Yer no one to talk.” Soap says in defense of his captain.

“You can’t even say you’re right.” Ghost quips back making Gaz burst out in a chuckle while John just stares at them with a straight face.

“I’m nervous.” John admits.

“Wow, she makes you nervous. That’s hard to do.” Soap says.

“Of what?” Gaz asks, ignoring soap.

“I feel like I shouldn’t, like she should be with someone younger, someone with a less demanding job.” They all hum not really knowing exactly how to comfort him.

“She seems like the kind of woman that has already thought those things through.” Gaz says.

“I’m sure she has.” He replies.

“Not to fret then, unless you’re the one with the problem.”

“My only problem is that you're all still here.” He laughs before toking his cigar.

“Yeah right you love our company.” Gaz replies.

—————

By the time you're out of the shower and have dressed casually for the day John’s friends are bidding you a goodbye, ghost kindly thanks you for sharing your home with them and gives you another soft handshake.

“Once again thankyou for letting me sleep in your bed, I appreciate it.” Gaz says with a small hug before walking out.

“Lass if he doesn’t treat you right you know who to call.” Soap says jokingly.

“If you don’t leave my home right now, soldier, you won’t be leaving at all.” John says seriously, waiting to shut the door. You just laugh leaning looking up at him and hint of humor in his eyes.

“All jokes, all jokes.” He yells out as he walks to the car they all crammed into. Once they pull away John shuts the door looking over to you.

“Their fun.” You say.

“More fun than I am?”

“Yeah.” He’s surprised by your answer but at the same time not at all. Your smirk is growing into a smile as your damp hair falls over your shoulders.

“Really?” He drags out the word, giving you an opportunity to change your answer.

“Mhmm.” You say shrugging your shoulders.

“C’mere.” You laugh as he grabs at your waist throwing you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing.

“Okay no they're not, I promise they're not.” You laugh, his fingers digging into your sides as he walks towards your room.

“Say you swear.” You kick your feet trying your best to make him let you go, but this seems to be light work for him, as if he doesn’t even feel it.

“I swear.” You laugh harder as he throws you softly onto your bed. He climbs right above your waist hovering so he doesn’t kill you with his weight.

“I don’t believe it.”

“I swear I really do.” He lets up, watching you try to catch your breath as he brushes the stray hairs from your face.

“By the way no drinking tonight, none.” You say.

“Why?”

“Cause the last time we went out together and drank only one of us made it out with their mind in the right place.” He laughs in memory leaning down close, close enough that if you moved up an inch your lips would touch.

“Trust me my mind hasn’t been in the right place since I’ve met you.” He brushes his lips against yours and immerses himself in that addicting shock of adrenaline it gives him every time.

“Oh, where’s it been then?” No answer, he just leans further into you until your lips connect softly. It’s a simple kiss and it's as electric as always but isn’t enough for you this time. You slightly open your needy lips and he happily takes the hint, swiping his tongue on your bottom lip to see if he’s right on what you’re offering, sure enough he is.

It’s slow and sensual in the beginning, and it’s actually driving him fucking insane. The taste of you is captivating in itself, the soft rhythm he sets and its consistency is melting the world around you. but the soft whine you made when he lifted your head a bit to accommodate the distance between you was the cherry on top. It’s a battle of dominance and clashing of teeth from then on. Your hands went from gently being placed on his face to being intertwined at the back of his neck and he can’t get enough. He wants more and more and more. His hands are on your waist, your face, running through your hair. He breaks from your mouth to kiss down your jaw impatient yet savoring every moment.

“John, we can't.” He knows you can’t, not that he would, he's too gentlemanly for that, you on the other hand are dancing on the line of control. Although he's desperate and impatient for you he’s also in dire need to keep you therefore no risks.

“I know, doll.” He says into the soft spot right below your ear. When he pulls away from you the look in your eyes can make any man fall to his knees. The swell of your puffy lips and the bit of saliva on your neck with your hair strewn in different places. It’s a sight to see.

You smile, completely and hopelessly falling for him, desperate so desperate that if he had kissed you one more time you wouldn’t have stopped it from going further.

“Ready in about two hours then?”

“Yeah.”

————

You get ready while listening to music, anything to calm the damn nerves in your entire body. You've had dinner with John before, you even live together, but this is completely different.

You dress nicely this time, warm yes, but nicely. Knowing John will either carry you or walk with you gives you leeway to nice outfits. A mini skirt with tights underneath, doc martens, fuzzy crew neck that almost goes over the skirt. You do your hair, light makeup.

You’re putting on your final touches, jewelry wise, when John appears in your bedroom doorway.

“Mmm dolled up for who exactly?” He gives you a long, obvious one up.

“Well I don’t know who I’ll meet, you know?”

“I know many things, dolls but not that one.”

“Well you don’t look so bad yourself.” You laugh, but really he always looks delicious.

“Can you actually help me with this?” You say holding up a gold necklace. He walks up to you, thick fingers grabbing at the dainty jewelry. You turn around moving your hair out of the way as he drapes it around your neck. He misses the clasp a couple times but when he finally gets it he lets out a satisfied grunt. You move to put your hair back but before you can you feel the wisp of his breath on your neck as his lips meet the soft skin of your shoulder humming softly. He turns you around planting one more on your lips.

“You really do look delectable.”

“Yeah yeah.” Your hands run over his scruff.

“Ready to go?” He asks, encasing the hand on his cheek.

“Yeah.”

-----------

im so sorry for the wait for this one, although its my shortest chapter yet I did put my heart into it. Being a sophmore in college isnt for the weak and im the weak.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated<3

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @Dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe @spyderdoll @angels-gonna-play @viisgrave @lieutenantlashfaz @sunndust @beckythecatqueen-blog @aoioozora @o-birdseed-o @mothmothmothmothmothmoth @ihateuguys @oversensitivitea @spicyspicyliving

#angst #captain price x female reader #john price #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw3

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biblio-smia · 2 months

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some fake dating with peter parker plzz<3

"Can I have your number?"

The horrifying question pulls you out of your work and into a waking nightmare as your eyes fall onto a boy, around your age, standing over your lonely library table, phone held out towards you expectantly.

You laugh, because it's your first instinct to, forced and too loud.

"Oh, I'm okay," you say nervously, hoping it's enough to wave him off.

The boy stands, stunned, wondering if you'd misheard. "I asked for your number," he repeats through his own forced laugh, inching closer to you, his phone only inches from your face.

Discomfort pricks at your skin as you bite your lip, unsure now of what to do. Your eyes stare directly at your now dim computer screen, your own reflection visible, your eyes not daring to look up at the stranger's.

As the screen of your laptop finally turns black you catch the glimpse of another stranger behind you before your head snaps to the shuffle of movement beside you. Another boy, this one tall and brunette, slides into the chair next to yours comfortably. Two pairs of eyes have fallen on him, yours particularly wide in surprise.

God, why you?

"Hey," he says with an easy smile, eyes focused solely on you. "Sorry I'm late." His hand reaches for yours, fingers linking together too naturally.

You recognize him now - you've seen him around campus a few times, definitely, but you're sure you've never spoken to each other before today.

"It's fine," you say softly, trying to wipe the shock off of your face to not flush all this new stranger's efforts down the drain.

"You could've just said you had a boyfriend," the boy standing over you scoffs, phone finally tucked away and arms crossed.

Words falter as he walks away - though your attention is brought back to your hand, still interlocked with a stranger's. Your intense gaze makes the boy next to you redden and suddenly retract his hand, nerves beginning to pick up now that he has no audience to act for.

"I'm so sorry," he begins immediately. "You looked really uncomfortable, I'm sorry if I made you more uncomfortable." His hands are raised in surrender while his knee bounces nervously, eyes glancing for a quick escape.

"That was pretty quick thinking," you offer with a small smile. "Thanks for getting rid of him."

The boy smiles back, just slightly. There's still guilt in his eyes as he looks over you and your makeshift work station, hands moving to grab his few personal items.

"I'm sorry, I totally interrupted your study session," he laughs awkwardly, shouldering the bag he'd dropped on the table so carelessly earlier.

"Well, technically..." The rest of your thought fades as you focus on the sudden flinging of a bag back onto the table.

Your eyebrows furrow as you tilt your head, ready to ask the boy why he'd thrown his bag back down immediately before you notice how intensely he's looking at you.

"I don't think it's safe for me to go yet."

Something about his gaze tells you not to look behind you despite how badly you want to; you're sure it has something to do with a certain guy from earlier.

"I can take care of myself," you defend.

"I'm sure you can," he says in a tone so genuine it catches you off-guard. "I just can't, in good conscious, leave until he does."

Your lips part slightly at how much care a stranger holds for your well-being. It's a little strange, but not in the way that makes you shiver; strange in a way that makes your eyes wide and your cheeks warm.

"We could leave first," you suggest, closing the lid of your abandoned laptop. "I'm pretty much done anyway." It was a blatant lie, but there was no way for him to know that. Really, your motivator was not wanting to hold up any more of his time; how indebted would you be?

"Are you sure?" He only moves to pick his things up when you nod, accepting the interlocking arm you offer with red cheeks. He walks with you out of the library, stopping a good distance away from the primary doors and hopefully, any onlookers.

"Thank you..."

"Peter," he all but laughs, finding too much humor in the fact that you don't even know his name. "Peter Parker."

"Thank you, Peter. That was very nice of you."

"I try," Peter grins easily at you, taking a few steps backward as he waves goodbye. "See you around?"

"Yeah!" You call, though it's not certain; you don't have his number (as ironic as that is). "I'll see you!"

As Peter's back turns towards you and yours eventually turns towards him, you can't help the tingling of your fingers where they had been interlocked with his.

Nothing is certain. As far as you know, you may not see him for another couple of weeks.

Your next meeting will just have to be written in the stars.

masterlist

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman x reader #tasm spiderman x reader #andrew garfield peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #andrew garfield #tasm #v + peter #v writes

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matchingbatbites · 3 months

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praline sweet

Mature | 1.8k | Read on Ao3

This is a belated birthday gift for @tboyeddie! Sorry this took so long, I had like 4 versions of this going at once and couldn't figure out which one to actually use! I wanted to give you something soft, though, so hopefully this fits the bill! <3

CW: Omegaverse, Alpha Eddie, Omega Steve, Pre-heat fluff, Rated mature for a little dirty talk and some indecent thoughts

The call is unexpected, when it comes. Robin's voice is familiar on the other end of the line, but what she says-

“Hey, Steve hit his pre-heat today, and the party is bringing him stuff to add to his nest, just to make our scents stronger. Pick out a t-shirt or something and bring it over when you have the chance, yeah?”

Eddie blinks, almost pulls the phone away to look at it, make sure it's real, because what?

“I uh, I didn't know Steve was so close to his heat.”

“Yeah, it's kind of early, but he said that's not weird. All you need to worry about is bringing something to add to his nest. Got it, loverboy?”

That's kind of a big deal. Omegas in pre-heat want to be surrounded by the scents of their pack, to have that sense of familiarity as their bodies slowly adjust in preparation for what is basically a three day sex marathon. This is Steve's first heat that Eddie is really aware of. He'd apparently had one a couple of weeks after the spring break from hell, but Eddie had still been hospitalized at that point.

So now, three months later, Steve's heat seems to be right on time. The fact that he apparently wants Eddie's scent in his nest makes the alpha nearly kick into a purr. It ignites something deeper, too, the desire to bundle Steve up in the nest, to hold him and keep him safe, to stretch him open on the alpha's cock and help him through his heat instead of leaving him to suffer alone-

And yeah, killing that train of thought immediately while he's still on the phone with Steve's best friend.

“Yeah, sure. I'll head over this afternoon.”

“Perfect. Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie can't resist bringing a few things with him to Steve's. He grabs a couple of shirts, soft ones he's worn so much that they nearly have holes in them, and an old sweatshirt that used to belong to Wayne, that Eddie snagged for his own not long after he moved in.

Somehow, Eddie makes himself wait until after lunch before he heads to the Harrington house. He's nervous the entire ride over, only because he doesn't know how this is going to go.

The thing between him and Steve is new, like three-weeks-old new, like only-Robin-knows new. It's a gentle bond built through joking and talking and just spending time together, and it's so, so fragile, at least to Eddie.

Because Eddie's never dated anyone - much less courted an omega before. What if he fucks it up? What if he does something wrong that makes Steve break up with him and their friendship is ruined and Robin fucking kills him for hurting Steve? Fears that he has yet to voice, that he’s shoved to the back of his mind every time he's seen Steve since they started dating.

He tries to shake it off, but he’s still nervous as he rings the bell, announcing his arrival. It’s not long before the door swings open to reveal Steve on the other side. He looks a bit rumpled and sleepy, like he’d been napping before Eddie showed up, but he chirps when he recognizes the man on his doorstep.

Eddie grins as Steve blushes at the involuntary reaction, but doesn't comment on it. “Hey, Stevie. Robin said you needed some stuff for your nest, so I brought you a few things.”

The omega seems to melt a bit at the gesture, and the scent of praline pecans fills the entryway as Steve says “Thanks, Eds. You wanna come in?”

Eddie nods and follows Steve inside, waiting briefly for the younger to lock the door behind them before he guides Eddie up the stairs to his room. He passes the clothing over to Steve, who immediately takes one of the shirts and presses it to his face, inhaling Eddie’s own black tea and clove scent.

“I didn’t realize your heat was so close,” Eddie says as he props his hip against the desk, and Steve glances at him as he begins to add the shirt into his nest.

“Yeah, it’s actually early. I was gonna talk to you about it, but I wasn’t expecting it so soon. I, uh. I think being around you made it happen faster.”

Eddie tamps down the alpha pride that swells at the admission, that Steve’s omega is reacting to him, to his presence. “Well, we can talk about it now, if you want?” he asks instead, and Steve turns to look at him, the second shirt in his hands. He wrings it nervously before turning and tucking it into the walls of the nest, a bit closer to the head of it this time - easier to smell. Eddie’s Alpha preens.

With that task done, Steve takes a breath and turns to face Eddie once again.

“I like you, Eddie. Like a lot. I had some time to get to know you even before we started dating, and I really, really like you. I know we’ve only been together a few weeks, so it feels way too soon to ask you to spend my heat with me - I don’t want you to feel like you have to, just because you’re my alpha - but I’d really love it if you would stay for some of my pre-heat? If you want to, no uh, no pressure or anything.”

His alpha. Steve called Eddie his alpha.

Eddie’s been so worried, so scared of fucking things up that he’s been taking it slow, carefully feeling out each step before moving on to the next. He hadn’t realized that Steve was so far ahead, that he was already so comfortable with claiming Eddie as his after only a few weeks of dating, not even courting yet. And Eddie wonders-

He’d already been half in love when he asked Steve out. Had Steve felt the same?

For the first time since he decided to take that chance, to ask Steve on a date, Eddie’s worries disappear as Steve’s claim instantly quells the alpha’s fears. He crosses the room to stand in front of Steve, and can’t resist reaching out to touch him, one hand settling on Steve’s neck and the other on his waist. The omega hums softly and leans into the contact, and Eddie smiles.

“Stevie, sweetheart, honey. I would love to stay with you; for your pre-heat or your full heat, whatever you want.”

Steve blinks at him, hazel eyes wide with surprise. “You don’t have to, Eddie-”

Eddie shakes his head. “I know, but I want to. Gotta make sure my omega is taken care of during his heat, yeah?”

Hands snap to grab Eddie’s shirt as Steve actually trills, the sound high and delighted before it shifts into a pleased purr. Eddie laughs and tugs Steve into a sweet kiss, and feels the vibrations against his hands, his lips. It quickly peters off into a gentle hum as they just stay there, holding each other and trading soft kisses.

“I am a little disappointed,” Steve says after a moment. “I was kind of hoping we could have our first time before my heat hit.”

Eddie shrugs and rubs his thumb over the twin moles on Steve’s cheek. “I mean, we still have a few days, technically. If you're, you know, feeling up to it. If not, our first time doesn't have to be during your heat. I can help you this time without fucking you.”

“You say that, until I’m in the middle of it, crying and begging you to fuck me, to come in me and knock me up.”

And fuck, the mental image that conjures up. Eddie takes a deep breath to settle his Alpha, to calm the sudden desire that shoots through him at just the thought of it. The scent of sweet praline floods his senses, and he can practically taste the teasing undertone as Steve grins at him, clearly aware of what he’s doing.

Eddie gives a playful growl and goes to respond, but is cut off when Steve's hand shoots up to his face, covering his mouth as he yawns wide. He forgot that Steve had been sleeping when he showed up, and probably hasn’t slept enough to satisfy his instincts.

“Is this what the next few days are gonna be like? Lots of naps?”

“Not just naps. There’s also cramps and snacking,” Steve corrects, and Eddie just shakes his head fondly. He reaches over to grab the sweatshirt and passes it to Steve. “Well, let’s get you back to bed, then. I need to run back home and grab some stuff since I’m staying, and I’ll feel better knowing you’re all cozied up and safe.”

Steve smiles, something soft and gooey, but as he takes the sweatshirt and holds it up, reading the logo on it, it shifts. He looks at Eddie, unimpressed but with a teasing shine in his eyes as he says “Atlanta Braves? Really?”

Eddie just shrugs and doesn’t bother to hide his grin. “Wayne's from Georgia.”

The omega just shakes his head before pulling off the sweater he’s currently wearing and slipping on the navy sweatshirt. “This feels wrong,” he says even as he tucks his nose into the collar, eyes fluttering as he inhales the alpha’s scent, and Eddie chuckles.

“I’m sure the Cubbies will forgive you this one time, sugar.”

Steve rolls his eyes but smiles as he climbs into the nest, and Eddie watches as he bundles himself up in the soft blankets. He looks so fucking cozy, and the alpha can’t resist leaning down to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I'll be back soon, okay?” he says, earning a soft chirp from the sleepy omega.

It only takes Eddie about half an hour to collect what he needs and get back to the Harrington house, and Steve is still asleep when he makes his way back into the bedroom. He toes off his shoes and shakes the omega gently, trying to wake him as carefully as possible.

“Stevie?” he says and gets a soft grumble in response. Eddie huffs a laugh and tries again. “Baby, I’m not gonna get in your nest without permission. You gotta invite me in, sweetheart.”

Some part of Steve’s sleepy mind must recognize what Eddie’s asking, because a hand appears from the mess of blankets to grab Eddie’s shirt and tugs him closer. The alpha smiles and lets himself be pulled forward until he’s laying with Steve, their arms wrapped around each other and Steve’s face pressed into his neck.

Eddie’s purr rumbles low in his chest as he starts to doze, and the room is flooded with the scent of spiced pecans and home.

#cj i hope you like this!!#we've talked before about pre-heat fluff and i just wanted to give you some of that #i did try to make it spicy but they were not cooperating 😔#so fluff it is #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #joey writes #omegaverse

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scarlethexelove · 4 months

Note

Hi! Request you ask? Well, what do you think about Wanda x Natasha x Reader being in a relationship but after a while Nat and Wands are slightly ignoring R, which makes her question their relationship. Wanda and Nat are doing that because R was on a long mission and they fell into a routine without R.

I Don't Even Know You Anymore

The image is not mine.

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader, Bucky x Reader (Siblings)

Word Count: 3904

Warnings: Angsty for sure, break ups, allusion to depression, I guess suicidal tendencies, Gun shots, bloody injuries, I guess no happy ending just an open ending. I'm not sure what else.

Part 2 What About Now?

A/n: this one got out of hand. I did not expect to write almost 4k words. But I hope you enjoy. I normally don't leave it with a none happy ending but this one felt like it needed it. If anyone comes up with other warnings I should add please let me know. I hope you all enjoy.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

Your body aches as you wait for the quinjet door to open. Excited to be home after being gone for 3 months. Also being excited to see both of your girlfriends smiling faces. You weren’t able to talk to them because this mission was covert. It was just you and Clint for 6 months, but it was finally over.

The door opens and as you look around. You're disappointed when you see no one waiting. You expected your girlfriends to be waiting for you when you got back. You haven’t been able to talk to them because the mission was covert. Only weekly check-ins with Fury were done which would be relayed to the team. This was to keep you and Clint safe. So it was sad when you returned and the two people you wanted to see the most weren’t there waiting for you.

As your demeanor deflates, Clint places a hand on your shoulder. “Maybe they had a mission or maybe Fury didn’t tell them we would be home today. Don’t worry Y/n/n.” Clint smiled reassuring you. You don’t know how he knows what you are thinking because he has always been able to read you like an open book. “Yeah, yeah you're right I’m just overthinking it.” You give him a weak smile. Something deep down is still nagging you.

You both make your way into the compound. If your girlfriends aren’t around then you want to be able to go take a nice long hot shower and take a nap. You are exhausted and just need some small comforts. But as you make your way through the common area you are shocked and hurt to see your girlfriends sitting on the couch and the rest of the team surrounding them in chairs.

Your brother Bucky is sitting across from them. When he notices you he jumps up and comes over and about squeezes you to death. “Hey sis!” Bucky exclaims. “Hey Buck.” You pat at his back hoping he will let you down, which thankfully he does. So that is when you turn your attention to the redhead and brunette sitting in front of you.

“Hi Nat. Hi Wands. I’ve missed you both.” You give them a gentle smile. Up until this point they really hadn’t given you a second thought. You were feeling hurt but hopefully it is just a big misunderstanding. ‘Hey Y/n.” Natasha greets you. But the fact that she used your name and not a pet name stung a bit. Wanda only gave you a gentle smile but you didn’t feel that it was genuine.

“I-I’m going to go take a shower and take a nap if either of you would like to join me.” You say hoping that maybe the way they are treating you is just all in your head and they just are shocked to see you back. “We were just about to start a movie. So you go ahead and do that. You look pretty rough and in need of that.” Wanda finally says to you. “O-oh ok. Enjoy your movie.” You respond hurt hoping that no one notices the wavering of your voice.

You ignore the looks you are getting from the team. They all give you a look of pity and you hate it. So you quickly make your way out of the room. You miss the look of anger on your brother's face towards the two women. He can see your hurt as you make your exit. You don’t want to stick around where you are clearly not wanted.

Once you make your way into your shared bedroom and straight into the bathroom. You strip your grimy suit off and toss it into the hamper before turning on the water and stepping into the nice hot shower. You let the water rush over you, rinsing all the tension and hurt away. A few tears slipping down your face and into the drain.

After standing there for a few minutes you finally look around for your soap, shampoo, and conditioner but they are all missing. Maybe you ran out before you left and forgot to replace them. It has been 6 months and that sounds like something you would do. So you use Wanda’s shampoo and conditioner and Natasha’s body wash.

Once you feel adequately clean you step out of the shower drying off and walking into the bedroom. You see your favorite hoodie of Natasha’s and slip it on. Before climbing into bed and curling up. You see your bear that Wanda had gotten you one time when you were sick strewn almost off the bed. You grab it and wrap your arms around it. Within minutes you are passed out in the bed. Your heart is heavy and your mind confused.

When you groggily wake up you look at the time and it is already 9pm. You slept most of the day. Your stomach roars with hunger so you listen as you crawl out of bed. You grab a pair of sweatpants and throw those on before heading out towards the kitchen. In your sleepy state you hadn’t even noticed that you were carrying around the teddy bear in your arms. You chuckle to yourself before setting it down on the counter going to make yourself some food.

You whip up something to eat before sitting down at the counter. You slowly eat your food. The compound is quiet as you eat alone. Once you have finished eating you clean up your dishes and put them all away before making your way back towards your room to get more sleep.

As you get to the door you are shocked when you find it locked and you can’t get in. You try and knock but get no response, but that is when you hear it. Your enhanced hearing picks up on Wanda’s moans and Natasha’s grunts. They get louder with each passing second that you stand there shocked. You feel your heart shatter in your chest. You weren’t just overthinking that they were giving you the cold shoulder. They were just waiting for you to leave them alone to lock you out. To seemingly break up with you.

Tears start streaming down your face, a small sob escaping your lips. A door clicks open, you turn and see your brother looking at you. But all you can do is run. He tries to call after you but you run to your old room. The one that you had before you moved in with Natasha and Wanda. You slam the door shut and lock it before letting your back hit the door. You slowly sink to the floor sobbing and clutching the bear in your arms.

That is when you notice the room. It is filled with most of your things. You had been so exhausted when you got back that you hadn’t realized that your things were missing from your shared bedroom. Your sobs become uncontrollable as you curl up in a ball in front of the door. You can hear your brother banging on the door to let him in but you don’t move. You can’t move. You're frozen in place like all those years with Hydra. You were nothing again.

And that is where you stay locked in your room for most of the day sleeping the day away. Only coming out at night when everyone is asleep. Bucky occasionally stays up just so he can see how you are. You don’t say much but you let him be around and he is grateful for that. Sometimes you catch Steve in the early morning when he gets up for his run and you're heading to bed. He always gives you a sad smile. You can’t stand the look of pity in his eyes and you don’t want to see it from the rest of the team either.

What you don’t notice is that Natasha and Wanda have also been watching you in the morning. They realize that they took it too far but they don’t know how to fix it. They still love you deeply and hate themselves for how they treated you.

But Bucky sees them. You’re already in your room as he walks by the two women. He only scowls at them. He would love to do more but as much as wants to he knows that you would not forgive him. No matter what they did to you, you still care about them.

You're startled awake when you hear FRIDAY speaking. “Miss.Barnes you are requested for a mission immediately.” “Do I have to go?” You mumble taking your pillow and covering your head. “Yes Miss.Barnes Fury has assigned you to a rescue mission. The quinjet leaves in 15 minutes.” FRIDAY informs you. “FRIDAY who else is on the mission?” You question scared that you may have to see the two women. “Mr.Barnes and Mr.Rogers will be accompanying you.” You let out a sigh of relief hearing that it will be your brother and Steve who you see as another brother.

You get up and quickly take a shower. It has been a few days, you haven’t had the energy to bring yourself to do it. Once you are done you slip on your suit. Not completely surprised that it doesn’t exactly fit. You have lost weight due to rarely eating. Only eating enough to survive. So it hangs loose on you but you don’t have time to care.

You make your way out to the quinjet and join the two men standing there. You have been wearing baggy clothes so the two can see just how terrible you look. But they don’t dare say anything. They love you but they know never to push you into something you don’t want to talk about or do.

You settle into the seat as the quinjet takes off. “So does anyone want to fill me in on what is going on?” You question. “Hydra has taken a group of scientists and doctors hostage. We need to rescue them before they are forced to do something for hydra. This is a time sensitive and top priority mission.” Steve tells you before you guys go over the game plan of your roles during the mission.

Once you land you all have to split up. It is unknown where they are being held and the place is so large that in order to do it quickly and efficiently you have to split up. You pull your gun and head off to the right side of the building. Taking out Hydra agents left and right. Keeping up communication with your brother and Steve as you clear each section you were tasked to search.

As you make your way down the hall you appear into a room. You see about fifteen Hydra agents and also the hostages. You press on your com. “I found the hostages but also about fifteen Hydra agents.” You whisper. “Y/n wait for backup we will be there in a few minutes.” Steve informs you. “I’m going in.” You ignore Steve’s orders. “Y/n/n you need to wait for backup.” Bucky tried to keep you from doing something stupid. “I can take them.” You tell them. Both of them keep trying to convince you to wait for them. It started to frustrate you so you pulled out your coms and stepped on it.

You rush in and you’re able to take down ten of the Hydra agents, but then they are able to start overwhelming you. The remaining five were able to overtake you. One was able to get you down on your knees. One agent kneed you in the jaw almost causing you to bite off your tongue. You have blood in your mouth before you're completely knocked down. They don’t stop the beating there. They start kicking you. Several kicks to the head have you disoriented and barely conscious.

One rolls you on your back as you spit some blood out. You can barely see but you can make out the silhouette of a gun. Just before he is about to discharge his weapon you can hear the distinct whooshing sound of Steve’s shield. It barely misses the man as he gets a shot off but it is enough for him to miss his main target, your head. The bullet hits your shoulder making you cry out. Before Steve can get another throw off the man is able to get off three more shots. Two hitting you in the lower stomach and one in your upper stomach lower chest area.

All you can do is whimper in pain as you’re sure that the last one hit your lung. You can hear Steve taking out the remaining agents. As he does the door slams open and you hear Bucky yell out for you and that is the last thing that you remember. He sees you in a puddle of blood barely moving as he falls down next to you. He puts his hands over your wounds trying to stop the bleeding. One of the hostages comes over to you. “I’m a doctor, I can help.” So he and Bucky get to work on stabilizing you and being able to move you.

They are able to get you out of there with the hostages. Once everyone is on the quinjet and it has taken off the doctor does everything he can to keep you alive long enough to get you to the compound so that you get the help that is needed. On the journey back you flatlined three times but the doctor was able to get you back each time. Luckily they keep blood for each avengers blood type on the quinjets in case of emergencies.

Once the quinjet lands the doors are quickly opened and the team of doctors waiting move in and take you straight into surgery in hopes of saving your life. Bucky and Steve make their way into the waiting room where the other avengers are waiting. Everyone has a somber look on their face. The team was notified that someone was injured badly but they weren’t informed who. As they see the two men they know that it was you who was hurt.

Seconds later the door to the waiting room slams open. Wanda and Natasha come running through the door. They look around and spot Bucky and Steve and their hearts drop. They know it was you. You were the one who was hurt and could possibly not make it though. The team was told it was bad and that whoever was hurt may not make it through.

“W-what happened?” Wanda stuttered out tears in her eyes. Bucky quickly moves towards them and points at them. “This is your fault. Both of you. Get the fuck out of here before I make you.” Bucky yells at them. Natasha steps in front of Wanda and gets closer to Bucky. “We aren’t leaving.” She stands her ground. “If it wasn’t for you two she would be fine. You broke her. You broke my sister. You don’t deserve to be here.” Tears prick at Bucky’s eyes. After everything that you and him had been through you don’t deserve this. “She didn’t care about her safety. She ran in there without backup because she didn’t care to live anymore. She became reckless, no care if she lived or died. If my sister dies it will be all your fault and I could never forgive you. Now get the hell out of here before I make you!” Bucky continues to yell at the women. Natasha stands stoic but Wanda pulls her to leave. Not wanting to upset the room.

They exit the room together. Natasha is doing everything she can to keep herself together and not break down. The door swings open and Clint steps out after the two. Natasha turns to him and she sees the disappointed look in his eyes. “I-” Clink cuts her off, raising his hand. “Natasha you are my best friend but Bucky is right about some things. What you two did to her was wrong. If you wanted to end things you should have done it the right way but you two were cowards. You truly broke her and even I’m not sure I forgive you for that right now. I still love you but you need to get your shit together.” Clint says giving Natasha and Wanda a reality check on just how much they fucked up. “I still love her.” Natasha whispered tears shining in her eyes. “Well if you do then you need to work on that. God forbid she doesn’t die in there and she actually agrees to even see you let alone forgive you you have a lot of work to do. She didn’t deserve any of that and you don’t deserve her. She was too good for you. If she does by miracle make it through you fix it. Both of you.” Clint finishes before turning to head back into the waiting room. “She was too good for either of us, we didn't deserve her.” Wanda says as she cries holding back a sob. Clint stops with his hand on the door. “I hope you both have the chance to fix this.” Was the last thing he said before entering the room again.

Bucky never let Wanda and Natasha be around you. You have been in the hospital for a month now but you still haven’t woken up. Everyone was happy you were alive but still scared. They don’t know if there is going to be any long term effects if you wake up. The two women sneak in to see you late at night when the rest of the team is asleep. Sometimes Bucky is sleeping in your room so they stay outside. It breaks their hearts to see you like this. All the tubes sticking out of you and your unmoving form in the bed. They can really see how fragile you look laying in the bed. It is obvious to them that you had lost weight and not just from being in the hospital but because of them. They vow that they will spend the rest of their lives trying to make it better and to get you back.

Another month passes with no changes. The women have been able to spend the nights with you since Bucky was sent on a mission. He fought to stay but Fury gave him no choice. Tonight is like every other night. Both women are sitting and reading listening to the steady rhythm of your heart beat. It is comforting to them to hear that your heart is still beating that you are still here with them.

But this night is different from the others. They are startled to hear a groan coming from the bed. Both of them drop their books, not caring as they tumble to the floor. “Detka?” Wanda questions. Your throat burns and you feel groggy. It is hard to open your eyes or even open your mouth. You hear the words but your brain is sluggish and takes a minute to register. Once your brain catches up to the words you try and respond. “N-no-not y-your d-det-detka” Your voice is hoarse and you stutter your words. “Y/n/n don’t speak.” Natasha tells you. Your eyes finally blinking open to look at the women who are staring at you with joy and concern etched into their faces.

Natasha gets up and quickly fills a cup with water and puts a straw in it. “Drink this.” You want to refuse her but your burning throat tells you to do what you are told. She holds the straw to your lips and you hesitantly take it and sip the water. The water hurts your sore throat at first but soon soothes it. You quickly start to suck it down not realizing how thirsty you were until you had the water. “Slow down detka you will make yourself sick.” Natasha tells you. You slow down to a stop knowing that she is right.

“S-stop ca-calling me that.” The stutter is getting better and you still croak out your words but you sound slightly better than before. The women look at you sadly but nod in understanding. “W-why are y-you here?” You ask the women. They look between each other and back to you. “We love you Y/n.” Wanda tells you. “And we just want to help and take care of you. Y/n/n you have been in a coma for 2 months.” Natasha adds. You're shocked to hear how long you had been out for but you scoff at the rest. That hurts your throat but you ignore it.

Your body has mostly healed in the two months that you have been out. The only question was if you would ever wake up and would you still be you. No one could know but they can see that you are still there. You may have a stutter but you're alive and talking and that is all that matters at the moment.

“W-wh-why?” There are tears in your eyes when you look at the women. Begging for the explanation that you never got the one you thought you never wanted. Natasha sighs and looks down, not able to look you in the eye. She tries to take your hand but you flinch away. “We were hurt when you were gone so long. That is no excuse for what we did. We still love you. We fell into our own routine. We never meant for it to go this far. To hurt you this much. You don’t have to forgive us, but we will do everything in our power to prove to you that we are sorry. What we did to you was wrong.” Natasha sniffles and finally looks at you with tears in her eyes. “I never deserved your love.”

As much as you were hurt by them, her words broke your heart. “You are too good for us.” Wanda adds tears streaming down her face. “Y-you di-did. I-I-I” The stuttering is frustrating you. “L-love you.” You finish. “B-but I-I do-don’t know i-if I c-can for-forgive you.” You cry as you say the words. You love them with all your heart but they hurt you. They threw your relationship away because they were hurt. Hurt over something you can’t control. Over the job that you all share.

Both women cry but nod. “We understand.” Wanda tells you. She reaches out for your hand and this time you let her hold it. Natasha follows suit. You three are crying even if it is hard, this was needed. As you calm down you speak again. “I-I ne-need time. Pl-please g-go.” The women understand. Each kissing your cheeks before letting go of your hands. Natasha hits the call button before they both make their exit before the team of doctors rush to your side.

The doctors rush in and are surprised to see you awake and concerned to see you crying. The women watched from outside the door hiding from plain sight. They don’t know if they will ever have you back but they will try with all their power to get you back. They just hope they can show you how sorry they are.

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 4 months

Note

heya hiya bbg!! since you are writing for bucky i might as well do 10 y/o me some justice <3

i weirdly remember this dream i had (most of my requests are my delusional ahh dreams oml😞) where reader basically calms him after a nightmare like asking him what happened, if he wants to talk abt it, humming/singing to him, trying to cheer him up, etc etc

v cute v fluffy <3

hopefully u can get to this soon! have a great week/end!

-🪐

angel my bbg hi!! love it love it love it!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it 💌

UNRESTED.

bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count. 647

warnings. reverse comfort bc I can’t stop myself from writing it, nightmares but no description. it’s just fluff and comfort

It was no secret that Bucky didn't sleep well, often tormented by memories, leaving him with minimal hours of uninterrupted rest. Most nights were the same, him restlessly tossing in bed, murmuring and jolting as though he's stuck in the past - reliving it all over again.

Tonight was no different. You were nudged awake by your boyfriend sleeping to the right of you, his twitching movements hustling the mattress and snatching the covers. You check the time on your phone and sit up slowly, adjusting beside Bucky.

You extend a hand, hesitantly reaching for him. You place your palm over his shoulder, the sheen of his cold sweat permeating your skin. "James," you whisper, trying not to startle him. "James," you try again.

He abruptly sits, lids flinging open, a deep, heavy inhale filling his lungs. "God," he murmurs, brushing a hand down his face. His breathing is ragged and strained, shoulders tensing under your touch.

You brush your hand down his back, stroking over him smoothly. "You're awake. It's okay," you coo, drawing circles over his scarred skin - trying to refocus his mind.

He sighs, dropping his head in his hands, his breathing beginning to even out. "Was the same one again," he mumbles, his voice soft and saddened against his palms.

Your touch remains warm, trailing over him lovingly. "It sounded like it," you whisper, your tone gentle. "I'm sorry, love."

You slip your free hand into his metal one, carefully pulling it away from his face - your thumb brushing over the vibranium. You bring him to your lips and press a kiss on the back of it. You continue to hold him like that, one hand grazing up and down the curve of his back, your other holding the metal on your lap - trying to bring him back as such.

Bucky turns to look at you, his face knowing. The sight of your sweet features gently lit up in the moonlight, slowly putting his mind at ease.

You meet his downcast gaze, your eyes pooling with empathy. You give him a weak smile before resting the side of your head on his left shoulder, cheek skimming the scars.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask.

He copies your movement, resting his head over yours - the side of his face propped on your crown. "Not yet," he mutters in response, exhaling a steady breath.

"That's okay," you whisper back, turning to place a kiss on his upper metal arm. "We don't have to right now."

There's a moment of comfortable silence - the only sounds of breathing and the heavy pitter-patter of rain against the window. You continue to hold Bucky, waiting for him to pull away. But he never does.

"Sorry for waking you again,"

"James," you comfort, sweetly cooing at him. "You never have to be sorry for that... I was already awake anyway," you lie - trying to make him feel better.

You keep a grip on him as you lean back against the mattress, pulling him with you, which he adjusts immediately, cuddling into your side - his arm draping over your middle. You slip your arm under his head and wrap around it, almost like you were cocooning him. Protecting him. Just you cradling his head safely in your arms.

"Thank you," Bucky mutters, his words muffling against your skin as he presses a kiss to your shoulder.

Your fingers graze up into the short hairs at the back of his head - nails soothingly scratching his scalp. "Of course," you murmur back, whispering into his forehead.

Both of you stay like that, listening to the night storm, cuddled and huddled under the covers - his hand slowly making its way up to your heart. He rests his palm over the organ, using the faint thumping to ease him back to sleep.

#request #🪐#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky comfort #bucky barnes comfort #reverse comfort #bucky x female reader

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allysunny · 5 months

Text

Guiding Lights | Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

Synopsys: Nanami barely acknowledges you once he gets home. It's late and you've been waiting for hours. Again. Lately, it's all you seem to do for your husband. Wait, while he arrives home later and later. You decide to confront him about it, and things escalate.

Words: 6.5k

Warnings: Angst, heavy angst. Like, super angsty. Arguments and yelling, mentions of cheating, neglect and death. A very tired Nanami who's overworking himself. Angst with comfort, angst to fluff. Very happy and cheesy ending. Hopefully not OOC Nanami. Do let me know if I forgot something!

A/N: Hey guys!!! Oh my god I have been working on this fic for quite a while hahaha! I started it a few months ago, but then you guys started sending in your (lovely) requests, and it sort of got lost in my drafts. But I really wanted to get it done, so I focused on it again. Also, I'm terrible at summaries, I'm so sorry!! </3

I think this is my Magnum Opus so far. I really like how it turned out. I love my man Nanami, and I love angst (lol obviously), and I've always thought about this specific scenario. This is sort of like, the fic I've always wanted to read, you know? A "fine, I'll do it myself" fic, if you will, hahaha!

Well, I hope you enjoy reading it!! I certainly had a blast writing it <3

The door to your apartment closed as softly as it opened, and if you weren’t so intent on confronting the man who had just walked through it, you wouldn’t have heard the sound.

Looking up from the show you were watching and just paused, you take your husband in. He’s clearly seen better days. Shirt and tie slightly dishevelled, hair askew, large bags under his tired eyes. There is a big cut ripping his suit, and a smaller one on his jaw.

“I’m home.” Nanami mumbled, taking said jacket off and placing it on top of the couch.

“Hey,” You replied, unsure of what exactly to say. You’d been awake for hours now, patiently waiting for him to come back, but now that he’s standing in front of you, you don’t know what to tell him.

You must’ve not thought things through, because instead of keeping quiet and letting this man enjoy some peace and quiet (something he seemed to lack), you decide to speak your mind.

“You’re late.”

Nanami sighed. He does not dare to meet your eye, instead making his way towards your kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. “There was a curse that needed to be exorcised. I was closer to the location, so they sent me.”

“You could’ve called.” He hadn’t even kissed you. Just walked straight to the kitchen, barely acknowledging you. “I was worried.”

“Well, I was busy.” Nanami put his glass down and rubbed his forehead. He looked drained. The sharp edges of his face look like they could cut your fingers, should you touch him. The exhaustion was piling over him, and it was clear to see.

You didn’t wish to push his buttons – God knows how hard his work as a Jujutsu Sorcerer was. But it’s not fair for him to leave for hours on end without telling you his location. You don’t want to control him, nor keep tabs on him all the time; you just want to make sure he is safe and doing okay.

You just want to make sure your husband will return to you and your son at the end of the day.

“And you couldn’t have spared me a minute? Just a text would’ve been fine.” You said, standing up and walking to him. Too busy to call? It would take him less than a minute to tell you he was safe.

“[Y/N], I didn’t have the time to call you.” Now he looked at you. Those beautiful hazel eyes which usually regarded you with affection and care, looked fatigued and weary. These eyes belong to a man who has seen too much, a man who is in desperate need of rest. But no matter how much you tried to coerce him into taking a break, he wouldn’t have any of it.

Ever since you had your son, he was more intent than ever on working and making sure curses were exorcised as soon as they appeared. All to keep your bundle of joy safe, to make sure he grew up in a better world. But lately, it seemed like he was stretching himself too thin, taking on every single mission, arriving home later and later.

“I was worried sick. You look hurt.” Nanami looked away once more when you approached him. Just as you were about to raise your hand and inspect his jaw, he turned away from you.

“I’m fine. You should go to sleep. It’s late.” His voice was almost devoid of any emotion. Is this what Jujutsu Sorcery did to people? Wear them down, strip them of their humanity and emotions until they were but a vessel of what they had once been?

When you first started dating, Nanami couldn’t get enough of you. He’d get home on time, every single day, just so he wouldn’t keep you waiting. He’d treat you like you were precious, because to him, you were. And now it seemed like he was perpetually tired, like there was something holding him back from the sweet man he had once been. You suspected he hadn’t held your son in a few days. Nanami always stopped by Haibara’s room before he went to sleep, just to watch his slow breathing and make sure all was well. But it had been weeks since you had seen him hold his child.

“Kento, you’re not fine. Just… Stop pushing me away. Please.” You reached out to touch his arm, and he shakes it away.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but it’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse.” How could he be so careless about his health? Was he not aware of the family waiting for him at home?

You shake your head. You really didn’t want to do this. Not today. Not now. You’re tired – Haibara had been fussy all day, asking for “papa”, and there was nothing you could do to soothe him. And your husband looked tired too. Let’s not do this today. Not now. Go to bed, you thought. Go to bed.

Unfortunately, your mouth was quicker.

“Oh, yeah? Well, when’s it gonna be enough?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s just a scratch. Well, yesterday was just a scratch as well. So was the day before. And the day before that. Is tomorrow going to be just a scratch as well?” Your voice was rising, and you were fighting hard to keep the tears away. “It’s always justa scratch. When is it going to be enough for you to stop? When’s it going to stop being just a scratch? Huh? When you break an arm?”

“[Y/N].”

“When you lose a limb?”

“[Y/N].”

“When you lose your life?!” You tightened the grip you had around your body, using your arms as a shield against the despair and hopelessness you felt. You seemed to have stunned your husband into silence. Nanami breathed softly, looking at the floor. “When is it going to be enough for you?”

“I’m doing this for your sake.” He mumbled softly.

“Maybe you were, once. But not anymore. No, you’re doing this for yourself.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Now it was your husband’s turn to raise his voice ever so slightly. His fists were clenched by his side, and his shoulders moved in sync with his breathing. “I’m out there, every night, doing this for you. For our son, for our family.”

“No, you’re not!”

“Yes, I am! If I’m out there, exorcising those disgusting creatures, it’s because I want our son to grow up in a safer world! I don’t want him to live in fear, I want him to be safe. And that’s exactly what I do.”

“You say you care about your son, but you haven’t seen him in days.” You scoffed and shook your head. How could he say such things when you knew damn well he hadn’t even seen him? Let alone hold him or play with him. And the lack of attention from his father was clearly taking a toll on Haibara, who cried and cried, eyes anxiously looking for the tall figure he learned to associate with comfort. Not that he didn’t like you - you were his mother, and arguably, the only person he truly knew, but a baby boy needs his father, and Haibara didn’t seem to have his.

You stare at your husband, noticing how time has changed him. The once gentle features have turned knifelike, his eyebags have become wide and deep, his eyes perpetually tired behind the fatiguing-looking glasses. What could possibly be more important than his family?

An unsettling feeling starts pooling in your stomach. You’ve tried not to entertain this idea for long - hell, you couldn’t think about it without becoming nauseous. Because he would never, would he? He’s your husband. The father of your child. Meeting another woman behind your back is clearly unthinkable, right?

The voice in your head that you’ve been trying to quiet down this whole time gets louder and louder. Ask him, it says, ask him and find out the truth. You deserve to know it, you’re his wife. What if he’s hiding something? Ask him.

You want to trust your husband. You really do. You love him and always have and always will. But your mind is playing tricks on you, the weariness of the day and lack of comfort from this very same man messing with your brain.

“Is it someone else?” You ask, feeling braver than you felt.

“What!?” he looked at you, eyes wide in surprise. As if what you’d ask was completely preposterous (to him, it was).

“Have you been seeing someone else, Kento? Is that why you’re not home?” You were sounding surprisingly calm for a woman accusing her husband of cheating on her.

Your husband shook his head vigorously, looking you in the eye.

“I’m not. I haven’t been seeing anyone else.” You got a glimpse at your Nanami, the one who’s caring and sweet, the one who holds you when you cry and talks softly when you’re overwhelmed. You see him right now, in the way he assures you there’s no one else.

“You’re not home. You arrive late, leave at the crack of dawn. Don’t hold our son, don’t touch me. Is this why? Do you have someone else? Do you love someone else?”

“[Y/N], I told you, there is no one else. I’m not seeing anyone,” he sighed, signalling his own exhaustion (as if it wasn’t evident by the way it clung to his face, body, and soul). “I’ve just been busy.” Nanami repeated, turning away from you, to place his glass in the sink.

“Too busy to see your own son?”

“I told you, I’ve been busy, [Y/N].”

“He’s your son!”

“This is my job - “

“We’re your family!”

“Well, you can’t expect me to stay home all the time and cater to your every whim, can you?” Nanami had never yelled. Never in your time together you’d heard him raise his voice at anyone, let alone you. But the man before you couldn’t be your husband because he’d done just that.

“I’m not asking you to stay home and cater to my every whim!” Tears clouded your vision, and you stuttered pathetically, still trying to hold your ground. “I’m just asking you to be more considerate!” The more you spoke, the more you stuttered, the more your tears fell. Nanami, your sweet Nanami, your caring and loving husband would’ve never allowed this years ago. He’d have embraced you and kissed your forehead and wiped your tears. The man before you has no intention of doing that.

“I have a job to do, [Y/N], I have a duty, I made a promise -”

“You made a promise to me when we got married!” You wiped your tears away. Or tried to - they wouldn’t stop coming, big lousy tears that ran down your cheeks and made you feel even more miserable. “You made a promise to our son when he was born! And now look at you - you haven’t held him in days!”

“He’s a baby, [Y/N]. He won’t die from lack of affection from me. God damn it, he won’t even remember it! You’re making a big deal out of nothing!”

“You say that because you don’t spend time with him! I’m not making a big deal out of nothing; I’m telling you you’re neglecting your son!”

“[Y/N], he’s a baby!”

“He misses his father!” Now it was you yelling, sleep and rest long forgotten. No, right now, all you wanted was to get to the bottom of this, to once and for all make your husband see reason. “He cries for you because he misses you! I miss you! Your family misses you terribly and all you’re doing is pushing us away!”

An ear-piercing cry erupted from the monitor next to you. Hell, you probably didn’t even need the monitor. Haibara’s cries were loud and heart wrenching, and you snapped out of your rage fuelled trance as soon as you heard them.

“Haibara,” you whispered, pushing past your husband and all but flying upstairs. You opened the door to your son’s nursery, and maternal instinct took over as you made your way towards his crib and picked him up. His tiny fists were clenched, and he waved his arms and legs around, crying his little heart out.

“Shhhh, shhhh…” You cooed softly, taking him in your arms and pressing soft kisses against his forehead. “Mommy’s sorry, my love… Mommy was yelling, wasn’t she? She’s sorry… It won’t happen again my darling, I promise… I’m so sorry…” You cried, cradling his little body against yours.

Upon hearing your voice, his cries subsided, and the baby looked up at you with teary eyes, hands coming up to touch your wet cheeks.

“Mama?” He asked in that tiny voice of his.

“Yes, my love, mama’s right here. I’m sorry. Mama was yelling, it must’ve been so scary.” You wiped his tears, kissing the top of his head.

“Mama,” he said again, tapping his hands on your face once more, as if making sure you were there.

“Yes baby, mama’s here. Mama’s right here.”

“Papa?” Haibara looked around, and his lips turned into a pout once more. “Papa?”

“I’m sorry, my love. Papa’s busy. He’s working hard to keep us safe,” Please don’t cry again, you thought, go to sleep baby, just go to sleep. Mommy needs rest too, especially after today.

“Papa? Papa?” His cries became more insistent, and you tried your best not to burst into tears again. You felt like a failure. A failure of a wife, a failure of a mother. You felt like the home you tried too hard to build and cherish and fill with love was crumbling apart.

“Go to sleep baby, okay? Papa’s busy, but he’ll see you some other time. Right now, he needs to rest because he’s been working so hard… And so do you, baby. Just get some rest, alright? Please.”

You sniffled a few times, singing and talking to him slowly, the way you knew calmed him down. “I’m so sorry for yelling honey, so, so sorry… It won’t happen again… How scary it must’ve been for you… It’s alright now, see? Mommy’s here, she won’t yell anymore…”

You rocked Haibara and placed him so he was lying down in your arms. He looked at you first with a confused gaze, then with a small smile, and finally with a sleepy expression. Your sweet baby boy, who was all furrowed brown and blonde locks of hair, exactly like his father. Your sweet, sweet son, who’d babble in excitement when you twirled him around the living room and danced around as soft music played and knocked his head against yours in a loving gesture. He was your one weakness. You’d do anything for him.

The love you have for this child is stronger than words can communicate, and you wonder how Nanami can possibly ignore him as easily as he does.

You rocked Haibara some more, humming a tune you knew he liked. Once you turned around, you spotted Nanami leaning against the door, staring at the both of you in a mix of awe, hurt and sadness.

You returned his gaze, unsure of what to say.

What even was there to say?

The life you’d so lovingly built for yourselves seemed to have come crashing down, until all that was left were broken pieces.

Nanami approached you two, with slow heavy steps. Once you managed to get a good look at his face, something inside you broke.

Nanami was crying.

Big, silent tears rolled down his cleverly sculpted cheeks, and his eyes drifted to the sleepy baby in your arms.

And then he did something neither of you were expecting.

He sobbed.

Loudly.

So loud, little Haibara stirred in your arms, looking over to the source of the sound.

His face twisted in confusion, and his pouty lips parted to utter a single word.

“Papa,” he babbled, hand pointing in his direction. “Papa. Papa. Papa.” Haibara mumbled over and over again, arms flailing in Nanami’s direction. He twisted his whole body, muttering “Papa” and whining loudly.

“Haibara,” Nanami whispered, hands coming up to cradle his son - an adorable sight, really. Your husband, with his big, strong hands, handling a tiny baby with the utmost care. He held Haibara straight, and cried once the baby knocked his head against his, gurgling in excitement and flailing his arms around.

“Papa!” If your son was or had been sleepy, he didn’t show it, instead babbling a single word repeatedly, hands either coming up to touch his father’s face, waving around, or clapping. “Papa!”

You wondered how long it had been since Nanami had held him. It was clear Haibara missed him, and although the sight before you was heartwarming, it still hurt that, for this to happen, Nanami had to ignore his child.

“My son,” Nanami cradled Haibara carefully, leaning his forehead against the baby’s. “My sweet, sweet son. I have been such an idiot. I’m so sorry…” He kept on sobbing, kissing Haibara all over his face, head, and hands, as if trying to convey his regret in some way. “I’ve failed you. I’m so sorry.”

It was both heartbreaking and heart enriching. There he was, your husband, finally holding his son, finally apologising, finally making amends. You knew him to be telling the truth. Nanami might be stoic and cold on the outside, but you got to him. You knew him, inside and out. You could tell when he was genuine, and, well, he’d never been more genuine than now.

Nanami turned to look at you, eyes still puffy from the tears. He shook his head once, then twice, then turned to face his son once again.

“I’m so sorry… I’ve been neglecting you all this time… My family, my own family… I promised to take care of you…” This confession only made him sob louder. Your son quickly picked up on the atmosphere because he too started pouting, and expressing his discomfort through sounds.

“Oh -” Nanami was quick to change the baby’s position, making him lie down on his arms. “Shhh, it’s okay. Everything’s fine now, alright? Why don’t you go to sleep and give your mother some rest?”

“Papa,” Haibara blinked his eyes once and reached up to touch his father’s face. Nanami smiled, holding his son’s little hand in his, pressing a soft kiss against it.

“That’s right. Papa. Papa’s here.”

“Pa - pa,” Your son was interrupted by a big yawn. He blinked at his father once again, and quickly turned around, snuggling against his arms and chest.

There was something about tall and strong 7 to 3 sorcerer Nanami Kento melt while holding a tiny baby in his arms that made you chuckle. You wiped your tears and watched as your husband kissed your son’s forehead one last time, before putting him down on his crib once again.

Nanami made sure to check Haibara’s crib, gazing at him with that adoring look in his eyes, before exiting the room. You did the same and did not need to be told twice - you followed your husband, who was already in your shared bedroom, sitting on his side of the bed and facing the wall.

Leaning against the doorframe, you stared at him.

None of you wanted to break the small bubble you’d been immersed in. Although you hadn’t spoken with each other, the last few minutes with Haibara had spoken volumes. It was as if the ocean of hurt and neglect had been breached by the child who was a careful mix of the two.

And yet, it still hurt to address the elephant in the room.

You’d hated yelling at Nanami. You’d never done it. And he’d never yelled at you. Not even towards his most eccentric and insufferable coworkers, Nanami dared to yell. He believed arguments and misunderstandings could be solved without raising one’s voice. But he’d gone and done the one thing he promised never to do.

It was Nanami who, after what seemed like an eternity, reached across the ocean.

“I’ve lost my focus,” he said, still staring at the wall. “I’ve gone and ruined the one good thing in my life.”

All you could do was listen. You’d waited too long to hear these words.

“The truth is, I’m scared.” There it was again, that vulnerability in his voice, that softness and truth that reminded you your sweet husband too was human. “I’ve been scared ever since Haibara was born. I want to make the world a better place for him. I don’t want him to grow up surrounded by curses, always looking over his shoulder in fear…” He clenched his fists, only this time, the anger wasn’t directed towards you.

“I thought if only I worked hard… If only I worked all these extra hours, I'd be making a difference. I’d be protecting my family.”

You had no control over your body, but it didn’t matter. Your heart would always follow Nanami Kento, and right now, it was telling you to go to him. You stood near the bed, just a few feet away from his sitting figure.

“You are protecting your family,” you said, just as softly as him.

“No - no, I’m not. What if something happens while I’m gone? What if I’m not home, and someone gets to you first?” Nanami sighed, voice laced with fear. You could tell he was close to tears once again. “I’ve been so busy trying to take on each and every mission, I forgot to protect my family in the most important way - next to them.”

You remained silent.

There was nothing you could come up with. He was right. Those were your words and your thoughts. Then why was it that when they were finally uttered, you felt sadness rather than happiness or relief? It pained to see your husband hurting.

You sat down next to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, an encouraging gesture.

“I miss you…” he continued, tears now running freely. “I miss you two so much… Haibara… Haibara’s growing up without a father… And it’s all my fault…” Hunching over his knees, Nanami took his face in his hands, crying silently. “And you, my love - you’ve been here all this time, working so hard to keep our family together, and I was too blind to appreciate it… I’m so sorry…”

He then looked at you, and you saw years of your relationship fly by.

In his eyes, you saw your first meeting. You saw the day he bought you coffee for the first time. Satoru playing matchmaker. You saw your first date, full of nervousness and a fleeting kiss that lasted no longer than a few seconds but was enough to leave you both flustered and breathless. You saw the day he asked you to be his girlfriend, a bouquet of bright pink camelias in his hand. Him holding you close after you’d loved each other for the first time, hands tracing patterns on your back, whispering words of appreciation and love in your ear.

You saw your wedding day, the first dance you two shared and how he smiled like a fool despite all the teasing from Satoru and his students. You saw him carry box after box, unpacking items and decorating what would later become your loving home. You saw the way he cried in your arms when you showed him the positive pregnancy test, and how he kneeled before you to kiss your stomach.

You saw him holding your hair back while you puked, always so attentive, making sure you were fine. Him massaging your feet, rubbing your legs and preparing you meals according to your cravings. You saw him hold Haibara for the first time, hazel eyes ever the softest. You saw him sleep with your baby the first few weeks to ensure you had enough rest.

You watched as he got up earlier and earlier each morning, some of them even going as far as to forget to kiss you goodbye. You saw him arrive later and later, claiming he was “too tired” to eat with you, “too busy” to see your son.

You saw all of this in a span of just a few seconds. You saw all the love, the regret, the hurt, the pain, the happiness and desire, all of it. You saw the life you had carved together, the house decorated to your and his liking, the way it just felt like home, and lately felt like anything but.

Nanami left the bed and knelt before you, eyes still watery.

“I’m so sorry,” he started. “I’ve been a neglectful husband. I’ve been taking you and our son for granted.” Slowly, he took your hands in his. You allow him, having missed his warmth, his comfort. “Will you forgive me?”

That was the question.

Would you?

Could you?

“You don’t have to answer me right now,” he shook his head, thumbs circling your palms affectionately. “You can take all the time you want. You can think about it, make me suffer all you want - hell, I deserve it, after all that I put you through. Just… think about it. Please. Even if you never forgive me, just know that I am so, so sorry for all the suffering I caused you. I’ve been such a terrible husband…”

HIs cries don’t seem to subside, and he lays his head on top of your hands.

It breaks you to see your husband like this. No matter how much you were hurting, no matter how much you missed him and his absence broke you inside, you never wanted to see him hurting.

Instinctively, your hands flew to his hair, caressing it softly, massaging his scalp like you always did during lazy Saturday mornings, when he’s clingy and needy after having worshiped your body thoroughly, or during Sunday afternoons, when you watched your son play with his toys in the garden.

Nanami’s shoulders sagged, and he rested his head fully on your legs.

You think about what he said.

Forgiveness.

Could you ever forgive you husband after all the pain he’s caused?

After the late nights spent with dread, fearing the worst, after the early mornings devoid of any affection and love, after the distant weekends and inexistent holidays?

But even as you thought this over, your heart had already decided for you.

You’d walk to the end of the earth for Nanami Kento. And you were sure he’d do the same.

Delicate hands are placed on the sides of his face, and your husband looked up, a pained expression in his eyes.

“I love you,” you whispered, hoping that somehow, someway, these three little words would convey just how deep your adoration for this man goes. “Of course I’ll forgive you, Kento.”

His chocolate brown eyes seem to sparkle, and he holds his head higher.

“What?”

“I love you. We can fix this. I know we can.”

“Yes - [Y/N], yes. We can. I can. I will. I promise you.” Kento placed his hands on top of yours, holding them gently. After all, he’s holding the entire world in his hands.

And although you just want to skip to the good part, you shake your head, interrupting him before he can get too excited.

“But,” you began, “You need to change. This needs to change, Kento. I… I can’t raise a child on my own. I can’t nurture a home all by myself.”

“Yes - yes, you’re right. My love, I’m so sorry.”

“I won’t ask you to give up Jujutsu Sorcery.”

At this, he seems to tense a bit. You knew how important your husband’s job was to him. After all, he was keeping people safe, making the world a better place. It was terrifying, but it made him happy, and that’s all you could ask for.

“Just… Be more careful.” These words are uttered with the utmost softness, in fear of breaking the little trance you were in. “You have a wife waiting at home for you. A son. Your family needs you. And I know you’re making a difference out there, but we also need you here. With us.”

“And if some day, you do end up working overtime, just… Please say something. Just to let me know. I don’t want to know your whereabouts all the time, I don’t want to control you. I just need to know you’re safe.”

Nanami nodded. Eagerly. It was as if you’d just told him you would gift him his weight in gold three times. In fact, you’d given him something better than that. Your love. Your forgiveness. To Nanami, getting you back, winning your trust again, that’s what truly mattered.

“Thank you.” He kissed your hands. “I will. I promise, I’ll change. I’ll be a better husband for you, and a better father to Haibara. My love… My sweet wife, the love of my life… I can’t believe I took you for granted. I was so worried about failing you, I forgot what was truly important. My family.”

“Kento,” you said, shaking your head. Your eyes filled with tears once again. “You have never disappointed us. You will never fail us.”

“If I didn’t work hard enough to clear the world of curses, I would. If I don’t make a difference, I’m letting you two down. I want to protect you. I don’t want to lose you like I lost…” Nanami was unable to finish his sentence. You knew he still felt responsible for the death of his friend. Too responsible. When you suggested naming your son after his best friend, he’d choked up and cried. It is a beautiful tribute, he’d tell you later. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Nonsense.” You spread your legs and pulled him by his face. Nanami quickly got the hint and stood in between them, facing you directly. “You are making a difference, Nanami Kento. You’re making the world a better place. Haibara and I are so proud of you.”

Nanami wept, and you wept with him. He leaned his forehead against yours, and you cried together, not sure of where his tears ended and yours began. You closed your eyes, hands still on his cheeks.

“I’ve been such a terrible husband. Such a terrible father.”

“It will get better. Promise me you will be better.”

“I will. I promise. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s in the past now, Kento. Let’s focus on the future. Please.”

“I’ll make it better. Cross my heart, [Y/N], I will. I’ll start right damn now, by doing something I haven’t done in a long time.”

Nanami took your chin in his hand, angling you towards him. Then, he leaned forward, kissing you softly. You let out a noise of contentment and kissed him back, hands pulling his face impossibly closer. It’d been a while since he’d touched you, let alone kissed you. You missed this. You missed him.

You kissed him with the hunger of a starved woman, and he kissed you with all the regret he had. You poured all your sorrow into this kiss, while he tried to communicate just how much he loved you. Your tongues moved in sync, and the kiss felt like home.

When you eventually parted for air, Nanami opened his eyes, taking you in. Eyes red from the tears, cheeks puffy, lips plump and swollen. He hated seeing you in pain but thought himself deserving of torture for making you suffer this much.

“I missed you,” he whispered, kissing your lips again, this time quicker.

“I missed you too,” you replied with what looked like a hint of a smile. You hadn’t smiled in a while. Nanami knew this and chastised himself mentally. Never again would you suffer like him. And never again would he be the cause of your pain.

“I’m taking the rest of the week off,” he mumbled, staring into your eyes. He’d almost forgotten how they had the loveliest of colours. In fact, they’d become his favourite shade. Waking up to those gorgeous eyes of yours had once been his greatest joy in life. He would make sure to make it a priority once again. “Damn it, I’ll take the whole month off. We’ll spend some time together. Just you, me, and Haibara. How does that sound?”

You giggled. And how lovely was the sound of your laughter.

“That sounds perfect. I’d love that very much. I think Haibara would too.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so. He’s been missing you too much. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to spend some time with Papa.”

“Well, I am ecstatic to spend some time with my little one. And my beautiful wife as well.” This one earned a bigger smile from you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, crashing your lips onto his with vigour.

Nanami chuckled against your lips, and parted from you, getting up and extending his hand towards you. When you cast him a confused look, he nudged his head towards the en-suite bathroom.

“I need to wash the day off me. Will you join me? Please?”

And how could you refuse when he asked you so nicely?

The bath was by far the most relaxing time you’d had the past few months. You sat with your back against Nanami’s chest, and felt the tension leave your body as he lovingly massaged your shoulders and back, placing kisses along the line of your neck.

You washed his hair, massaging his scalp and putting his hair up in all sorts of weird shapes, earning a few smiles from him.

You kissed him with slow languid kisses, caressing his jaw, shedding a few tears of happiness, sadness, sorrow. He replied tenfold, whispering words of adoration against your lips.

It wasn’t sexual or lustful.

It was caring, slow, loving. It was a man showering his life with love, showing her he cared, showing her he loved and cherished her, and would never again take her for granted.

Once you two had rinsed off and dried yourselves with towels, Nanami gently applied body lotion in your body, kissing the spots he’d covered in hydrating cream.

“You smell nice,” he mumbled against his skin.

He carried you to bed, lying you down and scooting over to you. How you’d missed being held by the man you loved. How you’d missed his weight next to yours, his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You turned to him, nuzzling his torso with your nose, placing your hand on top of his chest. You could feel his heartbeat and relished in it. It meant he was alive. He wasn’t dead in some ditch, all alone and away from his family. He was right there next to you, safe and sound.

“I’m sorry for getting lost.” You heard Nanami whisper a few moments later, when the world is quiet and dark, when you two were the only souls still awake.

“You’re back now. You came back to us. Thank you for coming back.” You kissed his pectoral, and he kissed your forehead. An exchange.

“I won’t get lost again. I promise. Not as long as I have you to guide me. You’re my light, [Y/N]. My guiding light. You and Haibara. I love you two so, so much. I would do anything for you. My family.”

“We love you too. We’re so glad you’re back.”

“And I’m here to stay. I really am. Tomorrow’s going to be all about you two, I promise. I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry I said Haibara wouldn’t remember. I wasn’t thinking straight. I was tired. I know that’s not really an excuse, but I promise to make up for that behaviour.”

This is what you loved most about your husband. He was down to earth. He recognised his flaws and worked on them. Whenever he made a mistake, he made sure to apologize for it. Your arguments in the past (although small and dumb compared to today) had never gone unresolved, with calmness and willingness to listen from both parties. You could count on your husband to be the respectful diplomat.

You looked up at him. He had his brows furrowed, the way he always did when he was thinking, the way you’d seen your son do once or twice. He was the spitting image of his father.

“I know,” you said, caressing his jaw. “I’m sorry too. For yelling. For saying all those things. Saying you didn’t care about us. I know you do. You’ve been busy, but –“

“No.” Nanami interrupted you. “Don’t that. Don’t say it’s not my fault. I appreciate your apology, and I understand what you mean. But you were right. I mean, I do care. You know I do. But I lost sight of what truly mattered.” The cadence of his voice soothed you, and your eyes got heavier as each second went by.

“I was actually going to say, ‘You’ve been busy, but that’s no excuse to brush off your family’. Oh no, Mister, you aren’t getting off the hook so easily.”

Nanami chuckled and kissed your forehead once again.

“You’d never let me, I know.”

A few silent moments went by, with only the sounds of your and Nanami’s soft breathings signalling your presence.

“[Y/N]?” It was quietly ushered, and you’d miss it if you weren’t so connected to this man.

“Yeah?” you replied, just as quietly. It was such a fragile moment. Better not to speak too loudly in order not to break it.

“I love you.”

You smiled.

“I love you too.”

He heard the smile in your voice, and it made him smile too.

“You’re the love of my life.”

“You’re the love of my life as well.”

More silence.

Followed by your husband, again.

“I love our family.”

“I love our family too.”

You snuggled closer, inhaling his scent. It was intoxicating. Musky and manly, and it made you swoon every time. Great choice in body wash – a choice made by you.

“Are you smelling me?” Nanami chuckled, his eyes too closing.

“You smell really good.” Now you were the mumbling one. Nanami had to work really hard to understand what you were saying.

Perhaps the night had run its course.

“Goodnight, my love,” he whispered, placing one last kiss on top of your head.

“Night night, ‘Nami…”

You fell asleep in your husband’s arms with a content smile, and a full heart, and Nanami refused to let you go.

He’d lost focus, been to hell and back, too afraid to let his family down.

But as he held half of his world in his arms (and lovingly thought about the other half, comfortably tucked in his crib), Nanami felt blessed. He’d gotten incredibly lucky, with an amazing woman who loved him for who he was and always made sure to remind him of that, and a son who inspired him to be a better man every day that went by.

As he thought about how wonderful his life was, Nanami smiled.

You and Haibara, his guiding lights.

He would never get lost again.

A/N: That's it! Whew!!! Well, once again, I really hope you guys liked it! I loved writing it - Nanami and angst might be my favourite combination, hahaha. Or anyone and angst. I just really like the feels. Anyway, I hope you guys have an amazing day!

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x yn #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami drabbles #nanami x reader #nanami kento fanfiction #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 22 days

Text

Follow You Anywhere 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You enter your apartment. It doesn’t really feel like yours anymore. That man, that gargantuan invader, has tainted your safe space. You keep your head down as you brush by Sy. He reaches to squeeze your wrist and promptly lets you go.

You cringe as you march stiffly down the entryway.

“Thank you, officers,” he says, “sorry to trouble ya like this. You have a good one.”

“You too, sir,” one responds, “hopefully your homecoming gets a bit warmer.”

The door shuts and you flinch. You stop in the living room, shoulders sloped, head down. You can’t stop the shaking. You hear him coming as Aika sits obediently in the corner. You glance at the dog, you don’t think she can help, you don’t know that she would. She’s loyal to her owner.

Sy stalks into the front room as you cower, wring your hands in front of your chest. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you watch his shadow as he fumes and paces around. He exhales, small mutters you can’t discern. Circling around and around then suddenly stomping towards you.

You whimper and your eyes flick up as you take a step back, eyes watery with fear. He stops, just an inch away, chest puffing with fury. You bat your lashes as you wait, for what, you don’t know. For him to do something, anything.

“How could you hurt me like that, sweetie?” He hisses.

“I... don’t know--”

“You hide from me. Scare me, like that?” His voice rises, quaking as you hear him struggling to control it, “call the f—the cops?”

He can’t keep his voice from booming. He’s so loud. Like thunder crashing down around you.

“After all I did for you, you treat me like a monster. Actin’ all scared like I’d ever hurt you!” He snarls, “I wouldn’t, sweetie, and you know it. What did I ever do to make you think that, huh?” He starts to pace again, throwing his hands out as he rants, “I told you—I'm not a bad man! I’m not! I wouldn’t hurt you!” He barks as Aika puts her head down, eyes on her own, “but you hurt me. You. Hurt. Me.”

He growls and his nostrils flare as he comes back around it front of you. You peek at him from beneath tear-webbed lashes. Your heart thrums in your ears and your chest thumps. He raises his hand and you wince as he smacks himself in the head. You cry out in horror as he does it again, each time harder than the last as he continues his angry prowl.

“Sy!” You squawk.

He snarls again and beats himself with both hands, “maybe I deserve it, huh? This is what you want. For me to hurt.”

“No, I--” you heave as a sob bubbles up your throat. You don’t like violence. You never wanted this. You just want him gone. To be left alone.

He roars and throws his fist around, hitting the flower lamp off the end table. It flies off and the cord snags, sending it shattering to the floor. You whine and put your knuckles to your lips, horrified as he continues his fit. He grabs the table next, hurling it with one hand as if it weighs nothing. The draw slips out and the continues scatter.

He spins again, puffing and panting, his face red and furious. He storms towards the opposite wall and before you can understand what’s happening, he bashes his face against it. He staggers back, grips his head and blindly stumbles around.

You stand, dumbfounded, as he falls onto the couch. He sits and hangs his head, gripping it between his large hands. He breathes loudly as he leans his elbows on his knees. Your tears spill out as you hug yourself and sniffle.

You babble as you feel something against your leg. You look down as Aika nuzzles against you. You reach down to touch her snout. She licks your palm and you turn your attention back to Sy. You’ve never witnessed anything like that. You never ever wanted to hurt him. You pity him more than anything, he seems so lost.

You suck in a breath and swipe the wetness from your cheeks. You drag your foot forward as Aika stays close. You back up and go through to the kitchen. You take a clean dishcloth from the drawer and wet it under the faucet. You’re buzzing with adrenaline. You don’t know what you’re doing.

You cross the room to Sy as his breaths huff in and out. You can see the blood on his forehead as he nears. You hesitate, furling and unfurling your fingers before you touch his muscled shoulder.

“Sy,” you say softly.

He ignores you, fingertips curling into his skull, “so stupid...” you make out the words under his breath.

You squeeze him as Aika pokes her head under his arms and noses him from below. He sits up and scratches her head. He wobbles as his foggy eyes come into focus. He looks at you, a gash on his forehead and another across the bridge of his nose. You try not to react as you offer the wet cloth.

He considers it and takes it with a sigh. He dabs at the blood on his face as he watches you. You bring your palms together, rubbing them nervously, as you bounce on your feet.

“Thanks,” he mutters as Aika nudges his hand for more pets. He looks between you and the dog, “I-- I’m sorry. I let you down. Both of you.”

He stands up and you back away, folding your hands over your chest as you make yourself small. He holds the cloth against his nose and grunts. He scowls and turns away. You don’t move as he marches to the bathroom. The door snaps shut just as Aika reaches it. You hear the lock click.

You bite your lip and slowly glance towards the entry way. You stare. You could try again but to what end. Blair wouldn’t let you back in after you brought that chaos into her world and the police won’t do anything more than blame you again.

Maybe it is your fault. Sy means well...

No, no! He doesn’t belong there. This is your life.

Aika’s paws pad down the hall and she sits by the door. She knows what you’re thinking it seems. Doesn’t matter, you have nowhere to go and no one to go to.

You pivot carefully, searching for a distraction. What can you do now? You’re too addled to sit down and work or even hide away in the bedroom under the covers. You walk a circle around the room and stop yourself. You look at the wall, a smear of blood and a dent left by his collision.

You return to the kitchen and grab a paper towel. You come back to wipe away blood. When you get most of it out, you start to clean up the rest of the mess. The lamp is broken. You put the shards in a box and leave it by the door. Then you gather up the random pens and notebook and right the table before tucking it all back in the drawer.

As you stand up, you hear another click. You peer over as Sy appears. His shirt is gone. The cuts on his face are no longer bleeding but his eyes are still blazing. You gulp as his jaw tenses.

“I’m sorry I broke your lamp,” he utters dully.

You wet your lips with your tongue, “Do you want some tylenol?”

His eyebrows arch and his cheek ticks. He nods slowly, “yes, sweetie.”

You try to smile and your mouth quivers. You retreat and go to fetch the bottle of pills and some water. When you come back, he’s on the couch again.

“Head sure does hurt,” he says as he accepts the glass and the tablets.

You hum and nod. He throws back the pills and drains half the glass. He set the cup down and leans back, once more holding his head.

“Do you think... maybe you should see a doctor?” You suggest.

“I’m fine,” he growls, “got worse over in the sh—in the war.”

You scrunch up your lips and twiddle your fingers. He drops his hands and brings his head straight. You fidget as he takes you in, his eyes narrow and his expression pained. He waves you closer, “come here.”

You stop moving. You’re completely still as you stare him. His brow lowers dangerously. You near him reluctantly, wary of riling him again.

“I’m sorry I yelled, sweetie,” he takes your hand and leans forward to kiss your knuckles, “I was worked up. I thought—I was crazy. I thought I lost you, you know? But I get it. You wanted to see your friend and she... she put her nose in our business and called in the cops, huh? Jealous, I bet.”

You blanch. That’s not the truth. That isn’t what happened at all. You won’t argue.

“Yeah,” you let him cling to your hand, “I think she was just worried because she didn’t recognise you. I’m... I’m sorry.”

He looks up at you and his lips curve, “I know you’re sorry, sweetie,” he tugs on you, “but we’re all good now, aren’t we? I got you, you got me, everything’s as it should be.”

He moves you and you let him. You know better than to break the illusion again. He angles you onto his lap and your body locks up. He hugs you to him, a hand on your leg, his other arm across your back. He purrs as he holds you close, leaning back as the tension seeps from him.

“Just like this, sug, me and you,” he grits.

🧸

You escape Sy’s embrace for the excuse of making breakfast. The task helps you keep your fears at bay though his presence looms just on the other side of the wall. Your helplessness is starting to feel like acceptance as the last of your denial dissipates. This is real. You are trapped.

You plate up a heaping plate of bacon and eggs. You scrape butter onto toast and bring it out to the table. You teethe your lip as you stand in the archway of the front room.

“Food’s ready, Sy,” you squeak.

He sits up and groans as he stretches. He stands, towering over you as he looks even broader without his shirt. Somehow you keep forgetting how big he really is.

He crosses the room and you scurry back to the kitchen. You hear him pull the chair out as you grab your leftover french toast and bring it out. You’re not very hungry, in fact you feel sick to your stomach. Still, you know you have to play along.

That sound, the one of his head hitting the plaster, keeps replaying in your head. You hate it. As much as he scares you, as much as he’s a stranger, you don’t want to be the reason he’s hurt. You stare at your plate glumly as you cut into the cold eggy bread.

“Thank you, sweetie,” he undercuts your gloom with his bright tone, “sure smells good.”

You glance up, poking at the toast with your fork, “sorry, all I had was turkey bacon.”

“S’all good,” he tears a strip in half and takes a bite.

You muster a smile and drop your gaze back to your food. You take a bite of the stale, syrupy bread. You chew mechanically, bite by bite, and choke it all down. You think of how he might react if you let the food go to waste. He paid for it after all. At least the berries add a bit of flavour.

“You should make a video today,” he says abruptly.

Your eyes flick up and you blink, “oh, uh, maybe not today--”

“Your followers will be wanting to check in, won’t they? You can’t leave them hanging.”

“Um, well, I’ll think about it later---”

“You know, sweetie, like I said, you got me through some tough days. You’re all I had out there. Who knows, maybe there’s others who feel the same, you know?” He scoops up eggs on his fork and hovers them over the plate, “and you’re special. The world needs more of you.”

“Thanks, er, I’m just... tired is all.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t snuck out to the couch, huh?” He challenges.

You’re surprised by the admonishment. You wince and give a shrug, “yeah, I guess--”

“I could help ya with the video. We could do something fun. Maybe... we could go for a walk with Aika. She loves the wilderness. Specially when there aren’t bombs hidin’.”

You look down guiltily. You don’t blame him for wanting out of his old life. For being so excited to be away from the chaos. And you feel worse because you’ve taken all you have for granted. Each time he talks, he reminds you of your ignorance.

“I guess... that sounds nice,” you sniff.

“Sounds perfect to me,” he swallows his mouthful, “walking around with my girls, showing ‘em off.” He grins, “couldn’t ask for anything more.”

#captaiin syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sandcastle #follow you anywhere

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ineylesian · 7 months

Note

need your hcs on girl dad ghost PLEASEEE 🙏🙏

girldad! ghost has my whole heart <33

GIRLDAD! GHOST who spends countless hours of his off days lounging on the couch with his baby girl sleeping on his chest <33 especially when you’re perched against the end he’s facing, his favorite girl’s nails gently carding through his hair as a movie plays in the background.

GIRLDAD! GHOST who is so incredibly protective over his girls, but knows his boundaries. You two are the most important things in the world to Simon, and he can’t help but fret you two being safe and happy at all times. This comes with constant nagging over little things, especially the boys your daughter sees. When he found out about his daughter’s first heartbreak, Simon bought her a bouquet of roses, all of her favorite snacks, and a small teddy bear holding a heart to its chest. For a solid week, he grumbled about how he knew that guy wouldn’t treat her right and how he better hope he never runs into him.

GIRLDAD! GHOST who shows up to every one of his daughter’s events he can make. He cleans up nicely, devoid of the mask as not to scare or unsettle anyone. Nothing makes his daughter more proud than seeing her dad in the stands of her games holding a handcrafted sign just for her <3. If she plays an instrument, Ghost will happily sit with her as she practices and tell her how well she plays <3. Any hobby she does brings him joy to no end, especially if she takes it up from her mother.

GIRLDAD! GHOST who probes every guy that enters his house. His handshake is firm, hardened gaze practically melting into the poor boy’s skull as he nervously introduces himself. Simon interrogates the boy all throughout dinner, his own little assessment to see if he approves or not. If he doesn’t pass, much to you and your daughter’s dismay, his daughter’s “boyfriend” won’t be making it past dinner and will be very passive aggressively shown the door.

GIRLDAD! GHOST who takes you and your daughter out in the woods to shoot a few times a month. As a soldier, Simon is skilled with weapons of all kinds and wants you both to know how to use them in an emergency. He needs reassurance that the two of you will be able to defend yourselves if he’s not around; knowing you’re not helpless lets him sleep at night when he’s not home.

GIRLDAD! GHOST who writes in individual letters home to you and your daughter while deployed. He makes sure to ask how his little girl is doing while he’s away, hopefully not having too much fun without him, while telling her how much he misses her. He’ll tell her about all of the sights he’s seen wherever he’s been in the world, asking her if she’d be interested in going someplace far when he gets home, a little family vacation maybe. In your letter, Simon makes sure to tell you how much he loves you, and how he can’t wait until he’s home so he can see both of his precious girls <3.

i love him so much :(((

NAVIGATION

#arqhms #🎃 arqhmsfall23 #girldad! ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #cod mw22 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley headcanons #call of duty

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storydays · 4 months

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C'mon, baby! Let's Go CRAZY

John Dory X Male! Rock Troll! Husband! Reader.

youtube

John Dory chuckled to himself as he watched his three children chase their cousins around. Currently, he was relaxing at the bar with his brothers', enjoying a drink and warm atmosphere.

After meeting Bruce, and knowing how dangerous things were, JD asked his sweet sister in law, Brandi, if he could leave his children safe on Vacay Island until either his partner came for them or he himself came back.

Of course, she happily kept the 3 Trollings. "It's honestly safer for them," she chided him before they left.

The oldest at 10 years old, Ash was a stubborn Troll and got along well with Bruce's oldest child, Cove. They were both super sarcastic but cared deeply about their siblings.

Cove would show Ash all of the cool hiding places on Vacay Island, and Ash was small enough that they could fit into the nooks and crannies that Cove couldn't reach. The two pre-teens bonded over learning about being non-binary and being true to themselves.

Ash took after John the most. Their hair color, eye color, and was a Pop Troll. Ash even wore compression gloves like their Papa, to keep their shaking hands still when drawing in their sketch book.

Then their only girl, Brooke, was an exact carbon copy of her Daddy. She was only 6 years old, but she was a wild card. She would jump off of stuff, then used her (h/c) pigtails to catch herself at the last moment. She took after John's husband in personality, looks, and even in music genre: Rock! John's favorite part was that (Y/N) and Brook shared (e/c) eyes.

Honestly, most of John's gray hair comes from that child. She was LaBreezey's little shadow. "She's just following what her big cousin does because to her, LaBreezy is her hero." Brandi laughed when John wondered outloud.

Ugh, John could just hear his husband's smirk when Brooke started talking about the government's control..or lack of it. Great, he already (Y/N) to worry about, now he's got two to deal with. Hopefully, that phase will pass soon.

The teal haired Troll hissed when he felt something tug sharply on his tail. Looking down, he brightened, seeing his youngest, Reed making grabby hands at him, demanding attention. John set his drink down before grabbing the Trolling.

"Reed! Finally up from your nap, little man?" Reed was currently struggling with speech, so he just made some babbling noises, before cuddling in his Papa's arms.

Reed was quite the surprise. John and (Y/N) thought they were done having kids, both of them in their late 30's. But one day, they woke up to Reed's egg sitting snugly in John's head.

Reed was a little miracle egg, and hatched looking like both of his fathers, John's hair, (Y/N)'s nose, but what was unique about the little dude, he had heterochromia. So his right eye was the same blue as John's and the calm (e/c) as (Y/N).

"So, where are you John Dory?" Bruce snapped his older brother out of his thoughts, making him realize his siblings' were looking at him.

"Huh?" John asked dumbly. Clay snickered, "John Dory has left the building, gentlemen." They joked, making the other brothers laugh.

"Ha ha." He chuckled, jumping slightly when he heard Brooke squeal loudly. BroZone looked over to where the little teal trolling watched excitedly as a (s/c) Troll went nacho diving.

Even though, there was salsa and cheese in their eyes, the new Troll got out yelling happily and excitedly. Bruce's children and John's older children crowed around him, chattering away.

Bruce frowned, knowing his kids wanted to copy the mysterious Troll's actions. "Ugh, that is so reckless. Now the kids are going to want to do it, and they'll be all sticky. Have you ever tried to give children in general a bath? Not to mention my kids are giants." He groaned.

John ignored his brothers' as Reed's tail excitedly wagged in his face, pointing towards the crowd.

Laughing, he adjusted the little Troll and stood up. "Okay, okay, we're going." He turned towards his brothers, with a raised brow. "Y'all coiming?"

BroZone scrambled after their brother, watching in shock as the new Troll grinned and rushed to John Dory. John stopped him with his tail, and deadpanned expression. "You are NOT touching us, until you've showered or rinsed off, (Y/N)."

(Y/N) grinned mischievously, turning towards Ash and Brooke, who bore matching grins. "Come on, kids!" "Wait, no!" John yelped when he was suddenly pushed from behind and pulled into the stream.

BroZone watched as (Y/N) held Reed in his arms, with a smug grin on his face. "Well, I rinsed off." He cackled, helping John Dory out of the water, before leaning in and kissing the grumpy Troll.

John smiled into the kiss, and kissed him back.

"Daaaadddddssss!!!!" Ash and Brooke squealed laughed, as John and (Y/N) covered their children's eyes with their tails.

Pulling back, (Y/N) pulled his children into his arms, squeezing tight. "Sorry it took so long for me to get here. This place is a good 3 day ride by caterbus. And I forgot my snacks!!!" (Y/N) whined, ears pointing down, perking up when his children giggled." So when I saw those nachos, I had to dive in and eat something."

John laughed, shaking his head. "Papa, I think our uncles' stopped working.." Ash pointed towards the frozen BroZone where their jaws dropped and stared wide eyed.

"Oh, right! (Y/N), babe, these are my brothers! Spruce, who now goes by Bruce, Clay, Floyd, and Bit-- I mean Branch. Guys, this is my husband, (Y/N)."

"Husband?" asked Clay. They were cool with it, same sex relationships weren't taboo or anything, but Clay was just surprised that John Dory of all people was in one.

"Cool." Floyd smiled.

"Papa?" Bruce whispered, a smile growing on his face.

"(Y/N)?" mumbled Branch, your name sounding familiar.

"Dada!" Reed giggled, tail wrapping around (Y/N)'s forearm.

"Uh-oh."

#brozone x reader #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #branch #clay trolls #trolls 3 #bruce trolls #floyd trolls #john dory trolls #storydays #john dory x reader #trolls x reader #band together #Youtube

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jojo-schmo · 2 months

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Here we have two little creatures of unknown origin.

Their appearances are deceptively innocent, but they are not from this world. They seem to not remember everything about themselves, but their past hides some profound secrets. Perhaps even some powers of cosmic proportions....?

Their arrival to the world was sudden and mysterious. Meta Knight would call it suspicious. King Dedede just wants to make sure they're safe because they remind him of his own Waddle Dee subjects.

And so they have been accepted and cared for by the heroes of Dreamland. But these beings will always recognize that they are outsiders and it causes them some internal turmoil.

They share the ability of mimicry. They recall voices and sounds from their past, and communicate this way when words fail them. They specifically focus on sounding like a Waddle Dee, parroting their cries and mutters of "Wanyas."

But what will the future hold for these curious life forms, the land they now call home, and the unknown forces they are connected to......??! >:O

Roleswap Elfilis by me, Starstruck Dee by @starflungwaddledee

More thoughts below:

So for a while now, as Starflung has slowly revealed lore, the coincidental similarities between Roleswap Elfilis and Starstruck Dee have not been lost on me! ;D But I LOVE IT!!

I think it's actually super duper awesome how two characters written by different people and created at different times can have so much in common, but have very different stories and personal developments and obstacles! :D

So during my lunch break today, I thought that if Elfilis and Starstruck met, one of the first things that could happen is their mutual mimicry turning into a face-to-face echo chamber. Each one would point at the other in surprise and confusion, because this being is not a Waddle Dee, yet they sound just like one?! And why does physical contact with her make Elfilis feel strange and dizzy??!

After the initial shock, Elfilis would probably find her intriguing and curious. As he learns more about her, he'd find it comforting to be around someone in a similar situation as his. Plus I think he'd really enjoy exploring the wonder and whimsy of the world with someone like her. :3

Just a little something for fun and to show my admiration and respect for Starflung's art and writing, teehee. Hopefully I didn't get any of your lore too wrong! tell me if I did tho :0

#non-canon to the roleswap comic of course but still something fun!!#fellow waddle dee imitators UNITE!#errrr well actually starstruck is *already totally completely a waddle dee* why would she need to imitate one. silly me!!!! xD #ohohohohoho-!!! -nervous laughter-#forgotten land roleswap #roleswap scraps #elfilis #starstruck dee #art #what is this?! A CROSSOVER EPISODE?!?! -a witty jingle starts playing-

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penvisions · 1 month

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by the grit of sandpaper {chapter 2}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Chapter Summary: It goes without saying that your first overnight patrol in years happens to be with Joel Miller. But the conversation doesn't flow easily like it normally does, with your haywire emotions and his unintentional eavesdropping...

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, illusions to past death, illusions to past trauma, blood, hurtful language, town gossip, rumors, negative feelings, pining, unrequited feelings, joel a little daft in this, reader is a little daft in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, mild injuries, reader snaps at joel, lots of feelings, slight angst, hurt and comfort, joel miller's hands need their own warning, jealousy, three (3) instances of joel miller gently touching reader, intentional flirting, unintentional flirting, casual intimacy, urges to kiss joel miller get their own warning, protective joel, minor injuries, fluff, this is so unbelievably soft, reader is described as smaller than joel (bc c'mon), reader has a commonly used nickname but no assigned name, joel and reader pov

A/N: i just really got caught up in these two after work yesterday. i hope this chapter reads as well as the first one, i'm super nervous bc i want to keep it soft, but i did say there was slight angst in this! love y'all ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

You were minding your own business walking back from the mess hall when you caught wind of the conversation.

It was a hushed thing, between two people right outside of the turn for the main street. Two women standing close to each other. You had been passing them by when your ears caught your nickname. And then your real one.

“Olive? What kind of grown woman willingly goes by such a silly nickname.” One quiet voice uttered.

“Tommy Miller gave it to her, on account of the trees in her backyard. Surprised she even knows what to do with them.” Another one, both of them faintly familiar. While Jackson was small, only a few hundred people, it was easy to recognize them. They were the ones you often heard while helping out with the gardens, offering trade with the owners as you all shared the spoils of your own personal ones tended to in backyards.

You knew you were intent on pulling your own weight to support and protect the town. Having been grateful for stumbling across the safe haven it provided all those years ago now. Partaking in the patrol rotation and helping out with anything around the town. You had made a life here, one that you had always wanted to try and salvage from the wreckage of the world.

But that didn’t stop people from being people. Rumors and gossip spreading as quickly as the virus that forced the world into small communities like this one. You just happened to be the star in the most recent bout, it seems.

“Yeah, but she does bring them to the markets and trade, so she’s not all that daft.”

“She’s going on the overnight patrol. With Joel Miller.” A whispered reveal, as if it was a death sentence, something that couldn’t be spoken at a regular volume lest it manifest into something.

“Hopefully she doesn’t get-“

“He’s so much more capable, they already saddle him with her for two of his mornings shifts.”

“And now they’re putting her with him for one of the most important ones, what are they thinking.”

“She’s a dear, truly, but she’s going to lose it. Just like she did all those years ago.”

“If she’s the only one that comes back…”

“Marsha, hush, you can’t speak that way. He’s capable enough for the both of them.”

Oh, they weren’t just talking about mundane stuff. They were talking about that. Your chest tightened as you realized they didn’t have any faith in your skills, in the risks you took every time you went beyond the gates to ensure their safety.

Turning back the way you came, not able to face walking past the two women huddled close together and talking so casually about the things that kept you up at night and made sleep hard to come by. You walked straight into a broad chest smelling far too familiar. Smelling like Joel. A grunt that sounded way too baritone and way too close sprung into the evening air at the contact much like your wheezing gasp.

“Woah there, sweetheart, where’s the fire?” Large hands skimmed over your back, arms encasing you, and making you feel a little light-headed, righting your balance as you began to waver from the sudden contact. Oh no, not that honeyed drawl, not that voice, not that tender nickname, not him, not now.

Your composure was already slipping, and you didn’t think you could hold on to what little you had left if he were to ask you if you were alright. The need, the want to answer his questions always winning out.

But you couldn’t, not this time.

“I-I’m fine, just forgot- something.”

“Hey.” And you stopped trying to step back. His hands came up from around your arms where he had grabbed you, cradling your face and tilting you to look at him. His features were softened, the wrinkles beside his eyes and in his forehead creased as he looked you over, making sure you were okay. But you weren’t and you didn’t want him to know. Spurred on by the sound of two voices that had caused all this rounding onto the street, you ignored the fluttering of your heart, the way your breath had caught in your throat, the way he had been touching you and fled.

“See you to-tomorrow!” You managed to squeak out as you stepped away from him, avoiding looking at him directly, his arms falling back to his sides. You weren’t sure if he was trying to catch your eyes, not raising them past his chest as you walked around him. His gaze was heavy on you, following you as you took off down the street in a roundabout way to get back to the streets lined with houses.

“Tommy, please.” Your voice was small, an imitation of what it normally sounded like, and Joel stopped in his tracks. He had a bag of things for Maria, for his brother that he had wanted to drop off before retiring for the night. He tried to quiet his breathing, standing as still as a statue in the back part of the hallway of their house, your voice carrying in from the open sliding door that led out to the sunroom.

He had just run into you down by the shops, or more accurately you had run into him. Literally. His mind had blanked at the feel of your body against his own, the soft press of you up against his chest, the feel of your warm breath fanning over the skin of his neck. And not for the first time, he thought of how well you would fit into him. How well his body could wrap around yours.

He had noticed that while around town you were hesitant to let anyone so much as clap a hand over your shoulder. Aside from the children, whose hands you gladly held with kind smiles and whose arms you welcomed around your shoulders with laughter. Tommy and Maria being the only ones he had witnessed you embracing in quick hugs.

He was always so careful with you, not allowing for direct contact to linger. It always made his heart thunder in his ears, and he wasn’t sure if you were okay with it, the casual touching. You never shied away from him, from the skimming of his fingers against your own or the more recent indulgences he had given into with the touch of his hand or the touch of his lips to minor injuries. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it delighted him to see the way your lashes fluttered and the feel of your breath hitching. He was a man after all, and he was one who was a fool for the jittery feelings you stirred in him. Even if he worried for them at the same time.

“Olive, you can’t let their words get to you.” His brother’s voice was calm, assuring you of the worries you shared with the man.

“But they’re right, Tommy!” Your voice rose to the highest volume Joel had ever heard and then wavered to nothing. More hiccups and sniffling sounding through the door. A particularly harsh hiccup sounded, startling him as he realized you were crying. Chest tight, Joel couldn’t even picture it. The thought of tears running down your upset face steeled his heart. He clenched his hands tight over the handle of the bag in his grip as he heard the shuffle of movement. He couldn’t see through the glass for the curtain fluttering in the evening breeze.

Joel was turning on his heel as your sniffles grew into sobs, moving as quietly as he could back through the house. He set the bag atop the kitchen counter and closed the front door behind him as gently as he could to not garner your or his brother’s attention. He had already heard more than he had meant to, the sound of your distressed voice beckoning him to you as he felt the need to console you. To make whatever it was better.

He knew you had been acting off earlier, just moments ago. From your wild eyes to the way you had been so distracted, the stutter to your voice.

But you were a private person, indulging him in his silly, earnest questions while out on patrol. But this?

This was something you definitely would not someone overhearing, and he respected that. He knew all too well the things people kept to themselves, things that were never exposed to the light of day, spoke of in front of others. And he didn’t want to betray the trust you seemed to have in him by hiding behind a curtain while you fell apart in front of someone who already knew of your struggles and ghosts.

He only hoped that one day…you would feel safe enough and comfortable enough with him to help you shoulder their weight. Because he knew not every patrol went smoothly, how could they, when the whole point of them was to keep up with any possible threats.

Once back in his own home, he found Ellie fast asleep on the couch with a movie playing on the modest television and a sketchbook dangling from her fingers. He removed his boots and then his coat, catching a whiff of the scent of you on his clothing. Light, slightly floral, sweet. You must’ve been tending to the garden he knew you kept in your yard earlier that day. Or baking something like you were apt to do.

With a sigh, he turned off the movie and closed the sketchbook to set it atop the table in front of the couch before moving into the kitchen. The slice of pie you had given him the other day was somehow still in the container you had fumbled for. Ellie must’ve known it was from you because she hadn’t said anything or tried to steal it. Knowing Joel liked to enjoy the treats you shared with him in the evenings with a cup of coffee.

So, he did, as he sat in his work room and began to sketch out some simple designs. He would fill your whole kitchen with whatever you wanted if it meant he would never have to encounter your tears again.

“They- they said I’m going to get him killed, that I shouldn’t even be on the no-normal patrol rotation.”

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.” Tommy tried to console you, taking in the situation and your words a best he could. But you had rushed through them, explaining in bits and pieces. You were emotionally charged, worked up, and nearly trembling. You thought you had worked through this, at least enough to be okay on the day-to-day front. But those two women, Marsha and her friend, had taken you back to the wave of everything as if it had just happened.

You were scared. Because they were right, you were dangerous. There was the very real possibility that you could cause harm to Joel, and you didn’t even want to begin to entertain thoughts like that. He…he was good and you didn’t want to be the cause of the man’s downfall. A promise to his brother to fill a spot on patrol spiraling into the current situation and it hadn’t even happened yet. It was supposed to, first thing in the morning.

“No, it’s not, Tommy. Everyone in town thinks I’m going to get him killed. That I got Aiden killed.” The name was foreign falling from your lips after not speaking it for so long. It was something you hadn’t been able to do since that patrol so many years ago now. “I ca-can’t stomach the thought of him getting injured because of me, because I’m not good enough to protect him. He does so much more for this town, he’s important. He deserves someone alongside him that will be a help not a hindrance.”

“You listen to me, and you hear me,” Tommy’s voice was firm, wide eyes focused and mouth a thin line as he spoke to you. Soft undercurrents of assurance in his tone. And you knew what he was about to say. It was always the same thing, the same sentiment, reassurance that it hadn’t been your fault. It had just been the circumstances, the world operating as it tended to do now. Unfairly. “Honey, it wasn’t your fault that those people found you. You cover your tracks well, hey, you do, okay?”

“I had been so focused on him, I didn’t, Tommy I didn’t hear them come up on us. Not their horses, not their footsteps, I didn’t even hear the gunshot until he was falling over.” Footsteps on the wooden floor thudding as you pacing back and forth, arms crossed over your chest and shaking your head in the way that you did when the thoughts got too overwhelming.

“But it wasn’t your fault. It was a messy situation, they happen. Hey, honey, they happen even to the best of us.” Tommy reached for you, standing from the chair he had taken beside you when you arrived in a flurry. Ushering you to the sun room at the back of the first floor, furthest away from the main bedroom upstairs. Maria had been in bed all day, not feeling well and had finally found the peace of sleep after an early dinner. His arms were wrapping around you and you allowed him to pull you into his chest, face pressing into his sweater.

“I should’ve been looking! I should have been more aware…”

“Shh, it’s okay, the patrol is going to go okay.” He rested his chin on the crown of your head and felt your hands tangle in the front of his clothing. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“You, ah, you…been okay?” Joel tried to break the uncharacteristically tense silence in an easy move, with a relatively harmless question. He had been up all night, wondering and worrying about this being the first longer route with you. Not that he didn’t trust in your skills and ability, but that he didn’t trust in the secrecy around why you didn’t do the longer routes. Of the things he overheard in his brother’s house just last night. Tommy had claimed that if he was to know, it had to come from you. That it wasn’t the younger man’s story to tell and Joel was trying to respect that.

And if that hadn’t sent alarm bells to rumble low in his mind, then your behavior this morning would’ve.

You hadn’t been at your house when he went to pick you up, the windows dark and the door locked. He had knocked, thinking maybe you had overslept. He had found you at the stables, cursing at the clasps of the saddle that weren’t cooperating with your ministrations to secure them. The way that you jumped when he cleared his throat and greeted you, wide eyes settling on him and body tense as if having expected someone else. Someone you had to protect yourself against, if the hand flying to your holstered gun was any indication.

Definitely concerning.

The sound of twin sets of hooves the only sound for the last fifteen miles or so. You had been content, or as well as could be considering the circumstances, beside him. Wide-brimmed hat drawn low to shadow over most of your face, body on a constant swivel as you took in the new to you surroundings. The landscape covered in autumnal tones. It was beautiful, the warm reds, oranges, and yellows of the changing trees. But it was also deadly, threats hidden within the lush tree line, just over the rolling hills, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

“Been okay.” Was your short answer, not feeling like you knew how to hold a causal conversation anymore. Not since seeing the man’s craft had cropped up in his brother’s home and the way in which he had denied your part in the idea. That paired with the anxiety of being so far out from the settlement wasn’t sitting well. “You been okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Just busy, you know?”

“You hardly ever take a moment, see you and hear talk of you bouncing around so much. Everyone must really appreciate you willing to help. The skills you have, they mean so much. They allow us a better chance to not just survive, but to live.” You wished he could see it, the way children would stare transfixed as him and Tommy led a team of people through creating things the way that they did. From foundations to frames, tiling roofs and securing windows into place. It meant growth, the ability to rebuild, it meant anticipation of the future beyond just a few days. And he helped to provide that for the settlement with the use of his hands and the skills comprised in his head.

He only hummed in response, as if he was disbelieving of the sentiment behind your words.

And then, of course:

“Is…is there a reason why you don’t do the overnight routes?” It was a cautious one, though you could hear the undertones of concerns that coated his polite curiosity. And undercurrent of worry in his beautiful eyes that had turned amber in the sunlight you caught sight of with a quick glance when he had continued to speak.

But his question was ill timed, everything too raw in you to indulge in it at the moment.

“Joel, that’s none of your business.” You felt the easy smile fade from your face as you turned away from the man. You ignored the inclination to face him, feeling the weight of his eyes watch the way you squared your shoulders. Searching for signs of something you weren’t quite sure of. You were always willing to chat with him, about everyday stuff and the heavier stuff should one of you need to vent or rant. Never talking about it back inside the walls and surrounded by the people you went out to protect. But this?

You couldn’t. It was too much, and you know your voice had turned hard, sharp.

“Shit, I’m sorry- we just, normally you’re okay with my questions. I didn’t mean to overstep a line.”

“Well, you did. Just drop it, okay?”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t-“

“I get it, just, stop please.” Snapping the reigns, you clicked your tongue to get Lowry to pick up the pace of her hooves. Moving ahead, following the path that was slowly coming back to you as the event you tried to block cropped up in your mind piece by piece.

“Okay.”

It was easy, comfortable to be beside him even in uncharted territory and land new to you after so many years. Because despite the rough start to the day, having reached the proverbial fork in the road that would take you farther from Jackson you had been in so long, it was easy to feel like things might just be okay with him mounted on his own horse ahead of you.

Even despite his rather invasive question.

You felt bad for snapping at him, for being too caught up in your own mind to enjoy the time beside him.

He was always so busy around town, but out here on patrol; he was yours.

His attention not being pulled in endless directions of so many who looked to him for help and advice, for his opinion on something or other. He was so willing to take the time and fix, mend, build, repair, anything that people called on him for. He had just been trying to do the same here, now. Ensuring you were okay. Because you knew your behavior wasn’t normal. You had jumped when seeing him this morning in the stables. You hadn’t taken the offered thermos, not wanting the caffeine to make you even more jittery paired with your anxiety and nervousness. And it was silly because you knew he meant well.

He couldn’t have known the question was a landmine.

He couldn’t have known it was the one, seemingly simple question that you were unable to answer him.

He had fallen quiet since you asked him to drop it. And you felt bad. There was tension about him, in his broad shoulders and the grip of his hands on the reigns in front of him. His legs shifting more than normal as the muscles tensed and relaxed in a pattern you couldn’t quite make out. You had bothered him, with your sharp words. And you worried that you had broken some part of what this was.

“Hey, Joel?”

A huff.

“Did you finish all the coffee?”

“No, got your thermos right here.” He patted the bag attached to the saddle. You couldn’t have known he meant that it was truly your thermos. Always nestled between his own and Ellie’s, in the cabinet, in the drying rack next to the sink. Yours, and not just while on patrols.

“May I please have it?” Nerves alight, you chanced a glance. He had to have been lost in his own head, his eyes coming back to the present slowly as he cast them toward you.

“Only because you asked so nicely, sweetheart.” He leaned down to retrieve it, holding it out to you. You were careful not to brush your fingers against his own. Thinking that maybe he hadn’t been too comfortable with the casual touching that seemed to have grown in occurrence, even if he had called on you and pressed his lips to your wounded head. Undeserving of the attention he had deigned to give you, you didn’t want him to think you were doing it on purpose. Trying to impinge on his personal space in such an intimate way.

“You-your from Texas, right?” Of course you were stuttering, nervous to interact with him, to try and bridge the divide you had caused. But you still tried, not wanting to lose the dynamic you two shared, even if you had been in your head. Even if you had no intention of physical contact, you still yearned for the easy conversations you two shared.

“Right.”

“Did you see a big change between the seasons?”

He seemed to deflate, the tension in his body ebbing just as the quick beat of your heart did as he turned to look at you for the first time in hours. Calming, reacting to each other, softening in the wake of what had happened.

The village was just as you remembered, as the horses came up on a hill looking over it. It was small, a collection of long abandoned houses and businesses on the cusp of the national park that once boasted large crowds and endless visitors who came to enjoy the views. The mountains surrounding it were breathtaking, covered in the changes of the season. Looking for all the world a quaint little getaway.

Another hour and you found yourself working silently beside Joel to clear the buildings, searching for anything that could be of use for the town, for its inhabitants.

Another hour and you found yourself stood in the kitchen of a small house, rustling through the cabinets in search of whatever may be hidden within them. With a delighted hum, your fingers wrapped around the soft casing of canvas and you pulled it out from within the depths of the one you had crouched down to inspect. Joel’s jacket hushed as he turned to you at the sound, his eyes watching, ever vigilant and ready to strike sound something be wrong.

But nothing was wrong, you leaned back on your heels as you pulled the object out into the light of your flashlight. It was a canvas pouch, rolled up and secured with leather straps that had seemed to stand the test of time and decay.

“Oh my gosh, Joel!” You looked up at him with a pleased grin, teeth flashing at him as you did so. Giddy with the discovery. You set it down over your thighs and unfastened the straps, rolling out the canvas to reveal beautifully crafted handles nestled into small, slim pockets. His steps were quiet as he moved closer, shining his own flashlight onto the find. With nimble fingers you shut your own off and tucked it into the internal pocket of your dark green jacket, pulling one of the handles carefully from where it rested to reveal a sheathed chef’s knife.

The sheath was a little worse for wear, the plastic cover faded and brittle, but when you removed it, the blade proved to be in pristine condition if a little dull.

“Joel, these knives are so beautiful.” Your words were practically a purr as you checked the others to find them nearly perfect. The whole set. Each blade crafted beautifully with a wavy design of darker metal inlaid into a lighter one, the blunt side fading from dark to light. “These are classic Japanese crafted, perfectly balanced. A bit dull, but with some care and a good sharpening block they would be as good as new.”

“Oh, so you didn’t just dabble in the kitchen then.”

“Hmm?”

“You were a chef, weren’t you?”

“Oh, um, yes. But that doesn’t mean much these days, so I tend to downplay it.” You stood, the pouch rolled back up and secured.

“You let me go on about jarred tomato sauce and cereal.”

“I meant it when I said those were balanced meals, I swear!”

“Uh-huh, sure you did. Entertainin’ me, is what you were doin’.” He was delighting in the friendly banter, no true hurt or dismay in his words if the upturn of his lips on one side was an indication. The smirk allowed for that endearing dimple to appear in the pocket of his right cheek, much like his brother’s.

“Joel, no offense, but hush. Food is food.” You tried to make it seem like you hadn’t meant any harm, because you hadn’t. Food was food, back then and even more so now. It was a way to survive, important and so scarce a necessity these days. The abundance of it within the settlement still something that amazed you. The ingenuity of people to create and cultivate agriculture as a base function of humanity and community.

“I’d bet my left arm you didn’t used to think like that. Back when we had the choice between organic and fresh to mass produced and cheap.”

“Hey! Junk food was important too! You know how many times I had a family sized bag of chips for dinner?”

“No, sweetheart, how many?”

“At least twice a week.” Flicking your hand with two fingers raised up, you couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that sprung up from your chest. Fighting the wide smile threatening to break out on your face at the faux shock he displayed with a hand to his chest and a roll of his eyes.

“Which ones?” His brown eyes glittered in the shine of his flashlight, following your movement toward your bag left atop the couch.

“I was rather fond of sour cream and cheddar.” You could practically taste the tang of the sour cream on your tongue as you made room in your pack for the pouch of knives.

“I was a salt and vinegar man, myself.”

You just pinned him with a teasing look, one eyebrow raised up in question.

“That’s just gross, Joel.”

“And there she is, the food critic I knew you were.”

“Go to sleep, mister judgement. I’ll take the first watch.” You stuck your tongue out at him, waving him away with your hands as you settled on the couch and leaned back into the dusty cushions. His chuckle was the only response as he retreated to the only room in the house, the bed springs creaking as he settled into an equally dusty mattress.

You were already back in the saddle on Lowry and moving when it happened. Joel was adjusting the saddle on his own horse and hadn’t heard the shuffle of the leaves. The tree line was just a few yards away. And a trio of infected had just breached the end of it.

“Joel! On your six!” You shouted, reaching for your shotgun slung over your back. Joel was reaching for his own laid out atop the saddle when the horse whinnied, kicking her front legs out at the infected. He reached for the reigns, quickly trying to console the amped up horse when he was knocked to the ground. Your shot missed, his horse freaking out too much and you worried for Joel on the ground.

Your own horse began to fidget, but you calmed her with soft whispers and a quick pat to her neck.

Rolling away to avoid being trampled on, one of the Infected left caught sight of him at the movement.

You were too busy leaning heavily to the left to get a good aim at the other two as they began to tear into the throat of his horse, cutting off the distressed cries of the creature. Heavy body thudding to the ground, you fired two headshots before searching for Joel. But he was blocked from your view by the downed creature.

Careening your body over the side of your own horse until you were practically hanging from the side of it with your feet secure in the stirrups, you used gravity to aid you in getting a clear view. Your middle burned with the effort as you tried to get vision of the man fighting against the Infected that had him pinned to the ground. When you did, your mouth went dry. The claws of the Infected had managed to rake down one of his cheeks, blood bright. Breathing in, you aimed and fired.

The shrieking of the figure fell silent, and its body went limp.

Grunting, Joel shoved it off of him and scrambled back away from it with a heaving chest. He looked over his shoulder toward you, his eyes nearly black from the adrenaline, his plush lips parted as he tried to get enough air in his lungs. Eyes frantically looking him over, you could see the split in his lip from the distance.

Slinging the shotgun back over your shoulder, you dismounted and rushed to his side. Your hands reached everywhere they could as you tried to sus out any more injuries. The intention to keep them to yourself short lived and fruitless. Joel was just staring at you, no words coming from him, only the sound of his panting breath as he pushed himself up on his arms.

“Are you okay? You didn’t hurt your back when you fell? Kiana didn’t step on you or kick you, did she?”

The questions flowed from you in quick succession, not giving the man a chance to answer any of them as you twisted to take a kerchief from your back pocket and began to dab at his cheek as lightly as you could. He let out a low hiss as the skin throbbed, but he let you do it anyway.

“I’m okay,” He finally croaked, sitting up completely when a few tears spilled from your lash line. One of his hands cradled your face, thumb brushing them away. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you did good.”

Through your tears, you worked at getting the blood cleared from his cheek, moving to focus on his split lip and the drops of blood that had trailed down his chin. He let you, his hand falling from your own face to your shoulder, anchoring him close. When you managed to wipe away what you could you sighed, blinking the tears from your eyes as best you could.

His eyes were so soft when you looked into them, watching. Your breath stalled for the barest of moments as you wondered if he would wear the same open expression right before a kiss. Heat flooded your face as you realized you had dug your other hand into the soft curls at the back of his head to help keep him steady and his eyes dilated at the sound. Your sore body protested as you leaned in impossibly closer, chest brushing against his.

The long travel had magnified the scent of him, cedar and sweat dizzying this close to him and it made you want to bury yourself in his arms. To burrow into him and just stay there, enjoying in the warmth and safety you felt when around him.

His eyes fluttered closed at the gentle press of your lips to the scratch on his cheek, tension leaking out of his own sore muscles at the feel. Nose brushing against his own, you were suddenly overcome with the urge to press your other hand to his chest and press him back to the ground, to straddle his thighs and show him how much he was beginning to mean to you. But that would be far too forward.

Heartbeat tittering, your eyes roved over his face, gauging his reaction to the uncharacteristic display. His face was so handsome, the trimmed scruff dusting his cheeks a mix of silver and gray complimenting the tan of his weathered skin decorated with sparse freckles, a patch vaguely resembling a heart low near his chin. And you fleetingly pressed your lips to it, unable to resist. The muscle in his jaw twitched at the pressure, but he didn’t move otherwise, eyes still closed shut.

Despite the journey from the day before and an overnight stay in an abandoned building, you still smelled faintly of the woody, floral scent. It was stronger due to the tense situation of a few moments ago, lingering in the sweat you had felt bead up along the back of your neck and the small of your back.

He seemed to breathe it in, his inhale catching in his throat when you couldn’t help the temptation of pressing your lips to where his bottom one was split in a chaste kiss, caught up in mingling of your scents and the effect he was having on you being so close.

“There,” You breathed against him, fingers clenching around the curls in your grip, surprised he hadn’t jerked away from the rather inappropriate move. His eyes remained shut, as you leaned back to look over the entirety of his face. You felt a nervous flutter of warmth low in your middle, mirroring the words he had whispered to you in your kitchen just a few days ago. “All better.”

Your body was alight with the feel of his body behind you. His chest bumping into your back on every jaunt of Lowry moving over the terrain. You hadn’t been able to look directly at him, keeping your eyes downcast in embarrassment as you had helped him up from where he had fallen. Your hands small in his as you had done so, but immediately dropping the contact once he had been back up on his feet.

It had been silent for a long pause, no words coming from either of you as he gathered what he could from the saddle of the downed horse and you adjusted your own belongings to make room. Lowry had been rather worked up, deservedly so at seeing her friend and own patrol partner taken out in such a gruesome way. The beginning of the journey back to Jackson started off on foot, you on one side of her and Joel on the other, guiding her back at her own pace.

But somewhere after the first couple of hours, you had begun to drag your feet. The adrenaline of the morning waning and leaving you utterly exhausted. That’s how you found yourself seated in the front of the saddle on your horse, Joel’s firm body behind you. His height, even while seated, allowed for every other breath to rustle the hair atop your head. The wide brimmed hat you donned while on patrol hanging from the front of the saddle so as to not bump him or obstruct his vision.

But he kept his hands to himself, save for when he gripped your hips when the horse tipped your combine gravity on the errant downslope of the route.

“Get some rest,” Joel’s words were a haze as you twisted to wave a parting at him. Safely back within the walls of the settlement and having completed the patrol write up. The loss of a horse something you were sure wouldn’t be overlooked, even in light of how it happened. You could’ve saved her, but had been too slow to find aim. But the only thing on your mind right now was a warm bath to wash away the day and then the comfort of your bed.

“You too, Joel.” You turned back to face forward, feet carrying you slowly even if the desire to be unconscious was a strong pull to pick up the pace toward your home.

“Hey, Olive?” Hesitant, the sound of your nickname was in his voice.

“Yes?” You pivoted once more, taking in the way he was looking at you. Concern in his dark eyes and softening his features. The feel of his lips sparking through you as you lingered on them. But you pushed it down, knowing it was one-sided and would always be so. He didn’t see you like that, couldn’t see you like that with all the attention he got from around town. So many other people to entertain and you were just another.

“You can always talk to me, you know, about anything. I’ll always listen to what you have to say.”

“Yeah,” The denial of you suggesting the cutting board washed over you, deflating you even more so in the late afternoon. “But I wouldn’t want everyone to think we do talk. Seemed pretty keen on hiding it from your brother the other day.”

“That- that wasn’t why I said it was my idea.” His jaw jumped, the muscle clenching and unclenching, his hands mimicking the motion at his sides. A heavy sigh deflated his own chest. “I was…embarrassed because it was the first one I made. It-it wasn’t very good.”

“Joel, everything you make is well done.” You assured even as you turned from him and walked away.

“I’m so glad you came back okay from that long patrol, Joel. We would’ve missed your amazing hands.”

Joel tried his best to tune the woman out, Marsha liked to ramble to him when he called on her to fix things in her house. She was about his age, an appropriate age. Headed the gardens and yearly plantings, helped out in the mess hall, and tried to help Tommy keep up with the holidays in order to make the town feel a little more comforted. But today, her words felt weird. Like a backhanded comment to something he intended to figure out. Because it felt like it was about you rather than just a well-meaning sentiment.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Joel tried to keep his voice even, tempered. But he could feel tingles of anxiety come to life in his chest.

“Oh, I’m just saying, everyone was rather shocked that you got stuck with Olive for Teton. She hasn’t been on anything other than her two morning routines in, gosh, such a long time n-“ He surged up from where he had been underneath the sink. The steady beading of water from the cracked pipe measuring the tense passage of time as he stood to his full height. The wrench in his hand pressed into his stomach as he placed his hands on his hip and looked directly at the woman who had been hovering over him as he worked. She had been idly peaking potatoes on the counter beside the sink, making sure to stick close to him like she tended to do when he was in her home.

But she had fallen quiet at the direct attention, a flush visible on the tips of her ears and the swell of her cheeks.

“Did you say ‘stuck with Olive’? Because I can assure you, she’s capable enough to not be talked about that way.” His brow furrowed as his lips tugged downward in a frown, unsure where this woman got the gall to sling around talk of you like this. To him, of all people. He wasn’t completely daft, he knew the women around town fawned over him. Both the younger ones like yourself and those closer to his own age and beyond. But he ignored it, because he wasn’t here for that, his heart didn’t soften for just anyone. And the woman in front of him was bad mouthing the one it had without him even realizing.

“I just meant that- since she’s so much younger and doesn’t have as much experience as you-“

“Hold on, lemme stop you right there.” Joel held out a hand, the wrench acting as a barrier between their bodies. “Olive is more than capable of being my partner on patrol. It don’t matter what her experience is compared to my own. And I don’t like the insinuation of her not being anything other than a hardworking person who willingly puts her life on the line for this town.”

“She just- there was an incident a while ago-“

“I don’t care what happened a while ago, she’s good to me now.” Anger flared, tinging his eyes into the deep, dark tone of fresh brewed coffee. His grip around the wrench was pulling the muscles in his hand, causing an ache that was becoming far too familiar a sensation. But he kept his focus on the woman in front of him, the one who had felt like it was okay to talk about you in such a way in his company, to him.

He was always polite, always lending an ear to what the people of the town wanted to say, allowing for easy conversation most of the time, but this was something he wouldn’t allow and the tone of his voice had shifted. It was assertive and left no room for interpretation that he didn’t share the sentiment of the woman in front of him. And then he thought back to the other night before the route in question.

Tommy had been consoling you, telling you to ignore the things people were saying about you, the rumors that had cropped up once your name had been added next to his on the assignment sheet. This woman had apparently been the cause of your tears, the fuel to your already present insecurities flaring and making you close in on yourself. This woman had taken the teasing jokes, sweet laughter, soft smiles, and easy-going conversation typical of time spent with you and stolen it from him. Tainted the air so badly that you had been decidedly not yourself on the last patrol and so wound up that you had snapped at him.

“She’s done nothing to deserve the way you’re speaking about her, and I would like you to apologize.”

“Joel, I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would upset you.” Her eyes shifted frantically over his face, realizing that she had offended him with her casual words. “I was saying that-“

“Not to me, to her.” He cut off her words with rough ones of his own. Past the point of caring about being polite and heeding everything the town needed his help with at the moment. All he cared about right now was you, and how you had been singled out as the most recent subject of town gossip. He tried to tamp it and he had gotten fairly good at keeping his frustrations to himself. Ellie being the recipient when she was particularly stubborn and bull headed, but she got that from him too. From traveling with him for as long as it had taken them, their entire journey now allowing for them to explore the softer and kinder parts of themselves within the safety of the settlement.

But right now? Joel felt like he was back outside of them, the need to protect and eradicate any perceived threat strong. Thrumming in him as he felt like what was his was being singled out and targeted.

“But-“

“We clear?”

Marsha squeaked out an affirmative, her hands wringing around each other over her middle. Without a glance toward the open cupboards beneath the sink, Joel gathered his toolbox laid open beside them and his flashlight.

“Need a new pipe, nothing else I can do at the moment. Tommy will be by before nightfall with a replacement.”

He didn’t bid her goodbye as he walked through the front of her house and out the front door. Leaving the shell-shocked woman standing in her kitchen with her heart beating rapidly in her chest at his rather uncharacteristic display of anger.

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