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astonmartinii · 5 months

Text

nonsense... or is it? | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem singer!reader

face claim: sabrina carpenter

based on this request: sooo, anyways,,, i was thinking maybe a smau where Charles is playing the guy who Milo was and this obviously breaks the internet even more and this leads to them dating ??? idk, just like a really wholesome one where she was his celebrity crush and now they're dating bc of them getting know each other more bc of the music video. sorry if this is all over the place but yeah. - @whoreks

MASTERLIST | BUY ME A KO-FI?

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,200,441 others

yourusername: holla babes !!! the feather music video is heading your way fast xxx if only my real boyfriends were like my music videos ones ...

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user1: MOTHER

user2: finally music videos are back baby !!

taylorswift: you can still make the whole place shimmer ✨

yourusername: thanks to you baby

user3: oh to be able to call taylor swift baby

user4: y/n's shade is so underrated - i too wish her boyfriends were as good as her mv ones

user5: she's got such a good eye for casting why can't she do this in her actual love life

user6: okay but he's hot based off a single shoulder i'm excited

user7: you got that from a SHOULDER?

user8: he's TALL?

user9: babe y/n is like 4'2 she makes everyone look tall

user10: say what you want about the catholic church, they got the aesthetic down pat

yourbff1: so we aren't asking the mv boyf out? boring.

yourusername: we have lil things called phones? USE IT HOE

user11: charles leclerc in the likes

user12: so true of him

user13: unless he's... the guy

user14: babe he's way too short lol

user15: have yall seen the sky ad? baby aint acting any time soon

yourusername

liked by yourbff1, charles_leclerc and 1,763,550 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: OMG you guys blew the feather music video up !! i'm sure it had nothing to do with this random guy i found off the street? jokes, thank you charles for being the perf mv boyf xx

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user17: HOLY FUCKING SHIT

user18: celeb crush inception no one touch me

charles_leclerc: thank you for my music video debut, maybe you can return the favour one day?

yourusername: i'll return any favour you want

yourbff1: dial down the desperation babe

charles_leclerc: what if i want her to dial it up please?

yourbff1: do NOT encourage her

yourusername: please encourage me :)

user19: Y/N STAND UP PLEASE

user20: actually y/n is so real have yall seen that man YUM

liked by yourusername

user21: y/n is a genius for fancasting her future bf in her music video

danielricciardo: THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT? SHARL WHEN I CATCH YOU

pierregasly: and me :( i thought our friendship meant more ....

charles_leclerc: it was a secret

yourusername: he doesn't kiss and tell xoxo

alexalbon: WHAT ??????

charles_leclerc: okay we can stop joking now

yourusername: fine...

user22: the way charles was defo typing that through tears

user23: y/n make the move we believe in you

user24: believe in her? she can get anyone she wants he's gotta STEP UP

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 2,099,441 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: had a blast filming for my first ever music video, thank you y/n !!

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user25: i'm feeling a new unhealthy attachment forming

yourusername: feel free to come back any time soon

charles_leclerc: or maybe you can come to me?

yourusername: is this my paddock debut?

charles_leclerc: make sure you're wearing red and it sure can be

yourusername: let me check the wardrobe

user26: i will pass away if we get y/n at a race... in the ferrari garage ???

pierregasly: let it be known i am still angry that you didn't tell me, especially after all the weird rants i've listened to

alexalbon: me too

georgerussell63: me too

landonorris: me too

danielricciardo: me too

carlossainz55: me too

maxverstappen1: me too

charles_leclerc: why is max here?

maxverstappen1: that's what you're taking from this?

charles_leclerc: yeah why are you in my business

maxverstappen1: you make it my business you talk about her all the time

yourusername: oh really ???

charles_leclerc: HE'S A BIG FAT LIAR HE'S ALWAYS BEEN A BIG FAT LIAR ALL HIS LIFE INCLUDING WHEN I MAYBE ACCIDENTALLY PUSHED HIM IN A PUDDLE

maxverstappen1: YOU DID PUSH ME IN THAT PUDDLE

yourusername: what is going on here?

user27: poor y/n being thrown into the grid drama

user28: poor charles with the grid trying to expose him

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,334,661 others

yourusername: clearly was feeling myself this week

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user31: lol why is max here

maxverstappen1: doing my due diligence as an investigative journalist

charles_leclerc: choke.

user32: is that charles? are we in the soft launch?

user33: let's not get ahead of ourselves, we know charles doesn't dress that well

user34: consider this: girlfriend effect

user35: girlfriend effect is gonna have to do some heavy lifting when it comes to charles' wardrobe

yourbff1: you think you're so slick don't you

yourusername: maybe. maybe not?

yourbff1: you're so annoying

yourusername: annoyingly cute?

liked by charles_leclerc

yourbff1: keep your nose out of women's business leclerc

charles_leclerc: SLANDER

user36: i mean they seem to have the same sense of humour

user37: not to sound insane but they are perfect for each other and i will be passing away if they are not together

pierregasly: interesting

danielricciardo: add it to the folder

charles_leclerc: folder ???

maxverstappen1: leave us journalists be

charles_leclerc: can you even read?

yourusername: GET HER JADE

maxverstappen1: add that as well

charles_leclerc: why can't we win?

user38: what is going on in the house of commons

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 2,331,663 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: i don't believe in soft launches

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user39: we been knew... but OMG PARENTS

user40: i am crying they're so hot

yourusername: hawt bf obtained

charles_leclerc: sexy gf in my inventory

yourusername: you're such a cute patootie

charles_leclerc: i cannot speak my mind or instagram will censor me

yourusername: ...oop hurry up and come back :(

charles_leclerc: about to break all US speeding laws xoxo

yourusername: not you in your charli xcx era

user41: he's with her ... in the US ... could we get y/n paddock debut in vegas ???

user42: would only be right i fear

user43: the scheduling just about makes sense before she has to go back to opening for taylor in south america

user44: now why did vegas not get in their bag and get y/n to perform at the opening ceremony?

pierregasly: way to ruin the investigation

danielricciardo: yeah we were in our sherlock holmes era

maxverstappen1: have to spoil everything don't you charles 🤨

charles_leclerc: i thought you guys wanted to know who my girlfriend is?

alexalbon: yes, but we wanted to expose it :(

yourusername: CORNY

pierregasly: oh no. he has someone on his side now

yourusername: damn right frenchie. i can hear your asshole twitching from here

pierregasly: WHAT ???

charles_leclerc: idk what that means but YEAH PIERRE TAKE THAT

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 2,114,762 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: gutted not to be on the top step but an overall great weekend in vegas. glad to have y/n by my side this weekend before she's off again to slay the stage xx

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user48: charles unironically using the word slay, the girlfriend effect knows no bounds

user49: the sky camera zooming in on y/n watching the podium

user50: i think we watched her fall in love in real time

user51: i mean look at the material... podium charles hits so different i think I FELL IN LOVE

yourusername: you're a winner to me babe

charles_leclerc: and that's all that matters

yourusername: NOPE STAY HUNGRY GET THEM POINTS AND DESTROY THE REST OF THE FIELD

charles_leclerc: okay :)

yourusername: good boy

pierregasly: never say that in public again

maxverstappen1: is this why he's blushing so much in the press conference?

charles_leclerc: NO. NO REASON

yourusername: you sure?

charles_leclerc: i am the unluckiest driver ever and am screwed over at every turn sue me if i like a lil praise

user52: charles is so real for that i also want y/n to tell me i'm doing a good job

alexalbon: enough time has passed. @yourusername can lily get some extra tickets for the eras tour

yourusername: of course. anything for my new bestie

lilymunhe: thank youuuuuuuuuuuuuu. charles you have amazing taste

charles_leclerc: i know :)

yourusername: i mean i got you, so who's the real winner here?

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, charles_leclerc and 1,667,982 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & taylorswift

yourusername: my leg of the eras tour has come to an end :( this was such an insane opportunity, thank you so much taylor xx but this also means i can go annoy charlie until he has to go back to work !!

one last nonsense outro:

i met this lovely boy named charlie,

he races round the world for ferrari,

giving it to me everyday like ari

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user53: i think y/n might actually be winning in life

user54: is she referencing everyday by ariana grande which is literally just a song about having constant sex?

yourusername: yes and what about it? f1 drivers have great stamina

arthurleclerc: DELETE ASAP

yourusername: no can do baby leclerc

user55: fave outro for real

charles_leclerc: i am blushing !!

pierregasly: she just told millions of people all you do is fuck and now you're blushing ???

yourusername: i don't think mr doggy emoji is talking right now

charles_leclerc: at least y/n did it in an artful way

pierregasly: believe me i know YOU WON'T STOP SINGING IT DOWN THE PHONE YOU MENACE

yourusername: you sing my songs :) ?

carlossainz55: ALL THE TIME

yourusername: i don't like your tone mr 🤨

charles_leclerc: i am just showing my love :(

yourusername: @pierregasly @carlossainz55 you made him sad APOLOGIZE IMMEDIATELY

pierregasly: sorry?

carlossainz55: sorry i guess?

charles_leclerc: thank you :) i shall continue to sing to my heart's content

yourusername: good.

taylorswift: you were amazing !! i'll see you soon my love xx

yourusername: i'm hearing double date ??

taylorswift: i'm sure that can be arranged

charles_leclerc: OMG

user56: charles and travis are really the top tier himbo bfs and i love them for that

fin.

note: i really loved writing this so i hope this was everything you imagined and more!! i'm just getting into sabrina's music but i was a girl meets world stan so... i hope i did the nonsense outro justice xxx

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic

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yuyusboyfriend · 8 months

Text

⋆ Get On Mic ⋆

pairing: Mingi x gn reader ft. Yunho

word count: 2,3k

content: Mingi likes your, and his best friend's, voice a little... too much and isn't very good at hiding it

warnings/tags: mxm, sub!mingi, dom!reader, switch!yunho, phone sex, voyeurism, possessive mingi, I can't really think of any others, tell me if there's anything else

a/n: just incase, wyd= what you doing ,vc=voice chat, also this isn't proof read so!!! sorry

Mingi: you busy?

You: just finished some work, why wyd?

Mingi: jump on vc lets play, you promised. and the guys miss you

This was the 3rd time this week you had abandoned your 'finished' homework for Mingi. You would've said not tonight as said homework is due tomorrow, but for all the boys? You supposed you could play for a little while.

Mingi had been acting differently for a few weeks, nothing obvious, but you had noticed he had become much clingier with you. "Did one of your anime characters die or something?" you asked the giant that was wrapped around you as you made lunch for the boys.

"Hm? Oh, no, you're just so comfy. This hoodie new?" he grumbled into your shoulder, putting his hands in the front pockets as you tried to maneuver the both of you around the kitchen.

"No it's Jongho's, he said I could borrow it for the day-"

"Wear mine instead." Mingi unravelled himself from you and marched off to his bedroom with purpose, emerging with a hoodie of his own. It was your favourite of his, and he knew it—a tattered grey one that Mingi had owned for years, and he looked so pretty in it; you complimented him on it whenever he decided to wear it. You had actually been seeing it more often these days than you used to.

"Alright Mingi, whatever makes you happy princess" You didn't question his actions; Mingi's clingy days were quite endearing to you if you were honest. He clung to you like a koala to a tree, despite his stature and the fact you could hardly move when he did.

"I'm not a princess y/n,"

"You sure act like one? It's okay to be my princess Mingi, I'll look after you, hm?" Mingi huffed grumpily and slipped his hands under Jongho's jumper to pull it over your head, before realising you weren't wearing a shirt under it. Despite his beet-red face, he slipped his hoodie over your head, and took a step to admire his work; the way you looked in his clothes.

"See that's much better!" He yelled loud enough to smother the noise of his racing thoughts.

"I'm right here Mingi!" You rubbed your ringing ear as he apologised for nearly bursting your eardrum, "You are right though, this does look better. Could you give this back to Jongho when he gets home for me?"

He sighed sarcastically, "Anything for you my y/n." That left you with a weird flutter in your stomach, you weren't used to Mingi using endearing language like that. You wouldn't mind it again, though.

"Thank you, princess!" You laughed and ran away hearing Mingi's heavy footsteps not far behind.

You opened the voice chat to hear Woo and Joong fighting over who got who killed in their last match. "YOU LITERALLY-Y/n! You're here!" Wooyoung yelled down the mic and diverted his attention to you, with a slew of greetings coming through from the boys, Mingi's voice pitching in last.

"You made it," you could practically hear the grin on Mingi's face.

"Here he goes again" Yeosang's voice chimes into the conversation.

"Shut up Yeo."

You look at your screen, confused as to why Yeosang would say that and what it meant; why Mingi's tone had turned deep and icy at the statement, but before you even had a chance to question the situation, Seonghwa beat you to it. "Let's play! San I'm gonna beat your ass."

"We're on the same team??"

After playing a few rounds for a few…hours…the boys finally called a 20-minute break so they could go stretch and raid their kitchen for whatever they had bought on a late-night shopping trip. Well, you thought everybody had gone anyway.

"Y/n?" You almost missed Mingi's hushed voice down the mic, he sounded so soft. You hoped you could go and see the boys after all your assignments were handed in; you missed Mingi's hugs-turned-cuddle-sessions-turned-sleepovers.

"What's up princess, you okay?" your gentle tone sent shivers down the boy's spine. He felt hot when you called him sweet names through the phone, and while he wouldn't admit it to anyone, the way you called him princess got to him. Bad. Like bad in the way that was making him shift in his chair as the fabric on his plaid pyjama pants felt tighter by the second. Fuck, he felt so guilty, letting your sleepy voice get to him like this, but he just couldn't help it. He loved it, he loved the way you made noises when you stretched in your chair, groans slipping out of your mouth-

"Mingi? You there?"

He accidentally huffed a little down the mic, trying to conceal his whimpers as he pressed down into his growing hard-on, trying to gain some friction with the palm of his hand while he answered your worried tone. "yeah yeah,, I'm here. Can you just… talk? Tell me about your day,,, please?" Now that he had started, he just couldn't stop himself from reaching into his trousers now grinding up into his palm through just his boxers.

"Yeah, sure Mingi. So you know that assignment? I actually haven't…." The warmth of your voice spread like wildfires across his burning skin as you told him about… he totally wasn't sure what you were saying. His head was too fuzzy, too high off of your voice that he could barely register your words when he wasn't concentrating.

"Mingi are you okay? You sound out of breath, should I tell one of the guys to check on you-"

"No! No, I'm hh, fine y/n,, c-carry on please" Mingi knew he would get caught any second with the noises escaping his mouth, but he just couldn't help it, he wanted you so fucking bad, he was so desperate for you to just make a move on him after weeks, months of teasing and touching; hell, he had 3 wet dreams and infinite cold showers after he took Jongho's hoodie off your body, his eyes absorbing every detail, curve, scar, blemish, beauty mark—whatever his eyes had access to at that moment.

"Princess. You should've just told me you needed my voice." Busted. You could hear Mingi rhythmically shifting and huffing, his chair squeaking every once in a while. In all honesty, you had caught Mingi doing this a couple of times now, You could always hear the sound of Mingi's hand smacking the base of his cock as he stroked himself to your voice. It lit a heat in your stomach so strong that after the first few times, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from reaching into your underwear and playing with yourself; Slow enough as to not cum on the call but by the time it had ended you'd be writhing and squirming into your mattress. The thought of him taking in your body with greedy eyes any chance he could had your legs shaking as your orgasm hit you like a truck, crying out his name into your pillow.

"Wh- what? What do you mean?" Mingi's movements came to a halt on the other side of the call.

"Mingi, do you think I can't hear what you've been doing? How all of a sudden when it's just me and you, your breaths become heavy? Oh, princess, you're cute." you couldn't help teasing the poor man, you didn't think you had done too much till you heard the giant whimper into his mic, hands moving at a faster pace than before.

"Answer me, baby, tell me what you're doing, please?"

"Ah- I'm… fuck I'm sorry. Just—your voice is so hot, I couldn't help it—ngh" Before you could you heard a phone camera click, followed by a notification on your phone—Oh.

Mingi's veined hand was practically suffocating the base of his angry cock, precum leaking out of his tip. God, it was a beautiful sight that made your mouth water-

"Mingi. You didn't send that just to me…"

Yunho: did you mean to send that to the both of us or should I just pretend I didn't see anything?

Yunho: Either way, Impressive👍

Mingi squeaked at Yunho's messages out of embarrassment, and being kind of turned on at his friend's words.

Right? You like what you see, Yunho? Come join the call again…

You had a sneaking suspicion that they both had a little more interest in each other than just lifelong friends, and while you liked Mingi a whole lot, his best friend was just as pretty. The two of you had also shared some drunken kisses and touches one night after helping a blacked-out Mingi to bed. You wanted to dress them up in matching outfits and parade them around the house-

"Mingi? Y/n?" Yunho cautiously called out your names, his voice more gruff than usual.

"Yunho… help…" Mingi was barely able to get his words out, between the shame of getting caught out, and the way it was making him more needy by the second, his brain felt as though it was becoming mush.

"Mingi, are you really rubbing one out in the call again? You were bound to get caught, this is on you." Ah, so you weren't the only one who had caught onto his antics. To be fair, when it was just late-night calls between the 3 of you, he wasn't sly at all. All the shuffling and coughing to cover up his sounds, and the way he would mute himself for a suspiciously long amount of time with no warning, all to come back with a groggy voice and shallow breaths.

"Again?! Ah-What do you mean again-" Mingi gave up on trying to stop his whimpers and groans between speaking, letting them fall out of his bitten lips.

"Mingi, you could've just told us you needed our help, I'm literally in the room next to yours." Yunho can't help but let out a throaty laugh at the boy's predicament.

"Don't you dare Yunho, if you're gonna touch him then I better be there for it." Your body heat rises at the thought of the two of you teasing Mingi's aching body till he cums for you both. As if Mingi was thinking the same thing, his sweet noises increased with each stroke, one hand reaching up to play with his sensitive nipples. He was so desperate to cum after unintentionally edging himself two times, both of your words mixing with the fuzz in his brain making.

"Guys I don't mean—mean to stop the bickering but—please help,,," Mingi grabbed his phone and threw himself on his soft bed. Since his room was already darkened, the only sources of light emitting from his gaming setup and phone screen thanks to the blackout curtains, he turned the camera on for you and Yunho to see his tired and red face huffing into the darkness.

"Pretty," You heard Yunho whisper under his breath, so quiet you weren't sure if he had meant to say it out loud, but Mingi's little whimper as he rutted against his bed reassured Yunho either way.

"You think so Yunho? You think our princess is a pretty boy?"

"So pretty. Arent you Mingi?" He cried out so loud Yunho could hear him through the wall. He began to beat his cock harder with each stroke slapping his skin louder than the last.

"Oh Mingi, you're so worked up sweet boy, you gonna cum for us?" you whispered sweetly, bringing Mingi closer to his edge.

"Y-yes fuck please I'm so close please keep going" The boy moaned out into the bedsheets, craving his nearing release. He imagined two sets of hands on his aching body, Yunhos larger pair raking across his chest while one of yours grips the surface of his hip, the other dragging up and down his weeping cock.

"Im gonna- I- I need to cum-" You could hear Yunho's breaths becoming shaky and uneven too, the sounds coming from the two almost making you cum untouched at the thought of them getting off to this.

"Yunho, you ready to cum with Mingi? I wanna hear you both cry" You say with a smile, rolling your hips into your pillow.

"Y-yeah, Mingi fuck cum princess" Yunho tried to say in a stable voice, faltering as he and Mingi came into tightened fists, cum streaking against their surroundings. Mingi cried as he spurted white liquid from his tip, what felt like hours of edging coming to an end finally, his orgasm hitting him so roughly he had managed to get cum on his face and the walls from the buildup. Yunhos had been a little less explosive but he had still been desperate for release knowing what his roommate had been up to for so long. After a minute or two of no talking, you checked in,

"You boys okay now?" You approached the situation cautiously.

"Y/n, can you come over? We'll help you with your essay just- please come over?" Mingis's groggy voice pleaded, Yunho carrying on his thoughts.

"I'll pick you up and take you to college in the morning too, we miss you." Maybe it was how soft they sounded in their haze of post-nut clarity, but you really couldn't say no to them.

"I'll be ready in 5 but take your time getting here… Also, I didn't get to cum so are you guys gonna fix that orrrr?" You hear the call end as you finish your sentence and suddenly feel embarrassed.

Mingi: be there in 4.

I'm sorry this is so ass tbh😭😭😭😭 it's done now though thank GOD

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez imagine #jeong yunho x reader #yunho smut #song mingi imagine #mingi imagines #song mingi x reader #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi smut #this is ass

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peachesofteal · 10 months

Note

Hey just wanted to say I love your writing!!! Somehow it fills me with a sense of contentment I haven't experienced before, maybe it's because I see so much of myself in darling from dead disco and I'm loving all the au drabbles too.

Can we please get a glimpse into what happened when darling saw them at the grocery store. Did she bolt the first chance she got? She's probably still heartbroken and emotionally exhausted but does she miss them? How is she managing motherhood by herself? Does she think Soap and Ghost tracked her down? Sorry for asking so many questions my mind is racing 💗

Hi love! Thank you so much for all your support, you're truly too kind. 🩵🩵 I'm so glad you're enjoying all these crazy little stories, it's definitely a treat to dive into.

Warnings-tags: 18+ Mature themes. Takes place after this.

It doesn't happen, quite like you thought it would.

You had expected to feel fear, when you saw them again. Expected to feel the nerves, the anxiety, the twisting in your gut when you finally laid eyes on them. You imagined those feelings would shift into anger, as they always do, the tidal wave of your rage's strength pulling you under, just as it did the night you left, nearly two years ago.

You're surprised when it's none of those things. You're surprised when it's... sadness instead. A profound sense of loss, the swell of it so strong it nearly knocks you off balance, while it brings tears to your eyes.

Your mouth hangs open in shock for what feels like too long, seconds turning into eons while you cradle the baby's head, brain sputtering while you try to process. They've done it. They've found you.

They're going to take her.

Except... they don't look like they're looking for you. They look they're just out, doing their shopping. They look like they're just... having a normal day.

And they look just as shocked to see you as you are to see them.

Bee gurgles in your arms, a happy song, and you bounce her instinctively, while you break your eyes away to look past them, at the other end of the aisle, and the towards the door. You should leave. The thought primes your muscles, preparing you to flee, when Simon's voice rings out over the dim grocery store music.

"Don't run. Please. Please, darling. Don't run." You hesitate, unwilling to leave the grocery cart, unwilling to try to run through the store, and stand frozen, rooted to the linoleum like you've grown there.

It's like Bee can sense the shift in your mood, can smell your distress, because her happy trill stops, and her face scrunches up like she's confused, before she starts to cry.

"Shhh, baby. It's okay." you hum, trying to rub her back to calm her, while your brain trips over itself trying to go a mile a minute. Run. Don't. Be calm. Panic. Scream. Cry. Run into their arms. Don't be crazy. Don't let them take her.

They're stepping closer now, easing up the aisle towards you, and you shake your head at them as a no. No. Don't come any farther. I don't trust you. Johnny tries to wipe his cheek inconspicuously, while Simon's got his hands out like he thinks he's about to catch a wild animal.

Maybe he is.

"Stop." you half yell it, the word bubbling up your throat and out like a barb, and it halts them in their tracks.

"Darling, please." Johnny croaks, his eyes locked on yours.

"Stop!" you say again, and step backwards once. Bee fusses, and Simon watches her. "I won't let you." you hiss, and Johnny's brow furrows in confusion, while Simon regards you slack jawed.

"Let us what?" He asks and you nearly laugh, except in the moment you realize your breathing is more shallow than normal, lungs tight and fighting your brain for air.

"Take her. I wo-won't." Johnny's face shifts into something crestfallen, something broken, and he makes a strangled sound. Like he wants to speak, but can't. It hurts you, wounds something deep, something you've buried, and for a fleeting moment, you want to comfort him. Want to reach out, and touch him. Only just to feel him again. Simon doesn't anything at all, just stares at you in shocked silence, his hands shaking.

"Darling, we would never-" Would never? Would never?! He seems to realize, what he's saying, and stops himself... before taking a deep breath and continuing. "We know you don't trust us. But-"

"No. That's enough." You take another step backwards. He doesn't stop.

"Please, we can at least try to help with-"

"I don't need your help." You spit, and try not to look at your trolley. It's full of Bee's food, puréed, organic foods and brightly colored snack packs, while your own is a smattering collection of bruised produce and discount rack canned goods. "We're fine." you double down, but your voice cracks with the weight of the emotions that you're staving off, and Johnny looks heartbroken. "I'm fine. I'm doing it on my own. I've been doing it, on my own."

"I know." Simon's voice is soft, gentle, the gravel pitch smoothed into something velvety, just for you. It tugs at you, stabs and twists, nips at your heart, while you try to build your defenses to keep it out.

"I don't need either of you. We don't. I'm taking care of her. And she's great, she's perfect." It's not a lie. She is perfect. An angel. Your inquisitive, sweet, beautiful baby. Your little piece of perfection. You do everything for her, sacrifice everything, for her. She's your world, and your her's.

But being someone's world who needs you to survive is hard. It's really, really fucking hard. And doing it on your own is even harder. No one understands, what it's like, and you feel so weak, so stupid, so beat down every day that sometimes, it's too easy to close your eyes in the bathtub. It's too easy, to feel like you did after she was born, alone in your tiny flat, with a screaming newborn, and no one to help you. No one to call. It's too easy to wish for terrible things, especially when you know she would be taken care of. When you know her dads would keep her safe.

"She's beautiful, love." Johnny says, jolting you from your thoughts, and you can't help but nod in agreement.

"You've done so well." Simon murmurs and you slam your eyes shut. Don't. Don't listen to them.

"T-thank you." It comes out as a cry, tears you can't hold off anymore, and they both step closer, close enough that they're maybe two arms lengths away from where you stand. "No!" you croak, and Johnny covers his face with a palm, while Simon's face twists like he's in pain.

Seconds pass, and Bee still fusses in your arms, her body wriggling in your grasp, while Johnny takes long, deep breaths.

"Are you taking care of yourself?" he asks you softly, after he rubs his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Li...like I said. We're fine." You choke it out, and Simon shakes his head. Like he knows. Of course he does. They can see right through you. You have to get out of here. "We should go."

"No, wait." Simon tries to step closer, but Johnny grabs his wrist.

"At least, let us buy your groceries." Johnny tries, but you shake your head.

"No."

"Darling, please. Please." Simon latches onto your trolley, making it immobile in his grip, and you shake your head back and forth.

"She needs to go down for her nap." You grit out. You can feel your own tears on your cheeks, and you try to ignore it, try to ignore everything except for your mission. Escape.

"Can we... get your phone number, at least?" He tries.

"That's not a good idea." I have you blocked on everything so not sure what purpose it would serve, either.

"You still have ours, right? In case you need anything?" Johnny asks gently, and you nod.

"You can call us, any time. Day or night." Simon rushes out, like he's a bit frantic, stumbling over the words. He releases the trolley finally, and you pull it away immediately. "For anything. We'll be there." Bee cries, screams, lungs screeching and you pat her back.

"Okay, thanks." You don't say anything else before you turn, swinging around and beelining for check out, all while trying to remember to breathe and soothe your crying baby.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck.

#baby trap au #peaches asks #peaches writes #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader

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ginnsbaker · 7 months

Text

Bulletproof (9/10)

Part Summary: Leaning in, her lips hover just inches from yours, the warmth of her breath mingling with yours. “Tell me,” she urges softly, “that I'm not the only one drowning in this.” Instead of telling her, you show her.

Chapter word count: 3.9k+ | Tags: Smut (18+ only), Resolved Sexual Tension, F*cking finally | Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Author's Note: The plot here has gone out the window. Enjoy!

Next Part | Series Masterlist

It’s late when Wanda returns to the makeshift home you’ve shared together for the past week. The floorboards groan a bit under her feet, even though each of her steps are light and calculated. Before she even gets to the bedroom, she hears your snores. It's soft, but there's a certain comfort in knowing you're just a room away. As she stops by the door, she smiles, thinking about how these small moments mean everything to her.

At the Avengers compound, things were, well, fancy. High-tech rooms, polished floors, and everything she needed, just a button click away. But it always felt more like she was at work, clocking in and out, than actually living there. It was all so... neat. Too neat.

But this place—it's different. The mismatched chairs, the odd draft from that one window that doesn't shut quite right, and that weird stain on the living room rug they can't seem to get rid of. It's messy, but it feels real. It feels like home.

And of course, there’s the other fact that she knows you’re here, waiting for her to come home.

Wanda eases into the bedroom with a soft tread, careful not to disturb what she believes is your deep sleep. There's a tired, yet hopeful glint in her eyes. She'd been out, and she did meet with Steve like she told you, but he wasn’t expecting her eventual return this morning. He scolded her—along with her accomplice, Vision—for disappearing without a word, but he eventually understood how much Wanda cared about your safety to abandon her duty and break the protocol. While he didn't revoke her suspension, he did lengthen it. This extension, ironically, freed her from the confines of the compound, allowing her to remain by your side without any official obligations holding her back.

She has news, potentially game-changing information, and she's eager to share it with you. But seeing your slumbering form, now's not the time.

She delicately sits on the edge of the bed, taking off her shoes and preparing for rest. Gazing at you, she's taken in by your soft snoring, the slight frown that occasionally appears on your brow, and the tranquility of your face—unburdened by the recent revelations of your past. She can't help but trace the curve of your cheek with her fingers, no longer unable to control herself from touching you.

Noticing the covers that have slid down, she carefully pulls them up, ensuring they sit snugly around your shoulders. She leans in, hesitating for just a split second, before softly pressing her lips to your forehead.

“I miss you,” she murmurs. “Every moment, every day. I wish you could remember me. All of me.”

With those heartfelt pleas, Wanda sinks down beside you, hoping that perhaps, in dreams, you might find fragments of who you used to be, of what she meant to you.

…and in dreams, you do find a semblance of it.

The sound emanates from Wanda, who is deeply entrenched in another dream. It’s evident from her restless movements and the soft moans escaping her lips that it's intense, and again, not entirely innocent. The sensations she’s feeling in her dream seem to ripple out, wrapping around you too—even in sleep.

A pulsating energy begins to stir you from your own slumber. Your senses heighten, and on the brink of intense sensations, you claw your way to consciousness.

Your eyes fly open, pupils dilating rapidly in the dim light. Cold sweat dampens your forehead, and your chest rises and falls at an erratic pace. The vivid images of you and Wanda, intimate and passionate, flood your mind, refusing to fade. You swallow hard, trying to push away the remnants of the dream, the warmth it evoked, and the very real longing it has stirred within you.

Pulling the sheets tighter around your body, you try to regulate your breathing. You turn to Wanda, her cheeks stained with a deep blush, her lips slightly parted. Taking a deep breath, you gently nudge her, whispering her name. She blinks, her deep-set eyes clouded with remnants of her dream, and it takes her a moment to focus on you.

Her cheeks are flushed, her breathing uneven. “I... I'm sorry,” she mutters under her breath, recognizing what’s happening again.

“So this happens often?” you ask, deliberately choosing your words, attempting to steady your racing heart and the electric buzz between your legs.

She wavers, taking a moment to collect herself before nodding slowly. You notice her squeezing her thighs together, and you try to pull your attention away from that.

Wanda takes a deep, shaky breath. “We were supposed to talk about it, you know? About what's happening, about what we're feeling... about how much we mean to each other. But then the attack happened, and…”

The silence that follows her confession is thick, but not uncomfortable. It feels like the stillness before the dawn, an in-between moment, pregnant with possibilities.

“How do you feel about me?” you finally ask. Now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark, you can make out her silhouette and the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she attempts to steady her breathing.

Gathering her courage, she finally looks up at you, her eyes a storm of emotions. “I like you. No, it's deeper than that. I yearn for you. But it feels... inappropriate, wrong even, to act on those feelings when you don't remember any of it. It feels like I'm taking advantage of you.

“You're not you. I mean, you're you, but... it doesn't feel right to be close to you, knowing that to you, I'm just a stranger.”

Instinctively, you move closer to her, lifting her chin gently with your fingers, urging her eyes to meet yours.

“You're no stranger to me,” you whisper to her.

It’s true. You may not remember the minor details about Wanda, but you do remember the essentials. You know she cares for you, that she’s spent months protecting you and watching over you. You know she would have let you live a simple, ordinary life if not for the resurgence of your powers and the looming threats accompanying them. You know she’d put your best interests before her own; she's proven that in the short time since you two were reintroduced.

You attempt to pull your fingers away but Wanda ensnares them, guiding you to cradle her cheek. Your breath hitches as you sense the goosebumps forming along the slope of her neck. Almost magnetically, your fingers drift over her skin, feeling her erratic pulse.

Wanda's eyes, a deep pool of want, lock onto yours. “Do you feel that?” she murmurs, her voice tinged with both trepidation and longing.

Without waiting for your reply, she closes the distance, her fingers lightly grazing your jawline. Her touch sends shivers down your spine. Leaning in, her lips hover just inches from yours, the warmth of her breath mingling with yours.

“Tell me,” she urges softly, “That I'm not the only one drowning in this.”

Instead of telling her, you show her.

With the lightest of touches, you draw her closer, letting your lips brush against hers in a whisper-soft kiss. Your hands find their way to her waist, pulling her close, while her fingers curl into the hair at the nape of your neck, deepening the kiss. Wanda releases a breath against your lips, and you seize the opportunity, letting your tongue probe past her luscious lips. Her soft moan vibrates against your mouth, urging you to pull her closer, your hand pressing gently yet insistently against her cheek.

Wanda's fingers begin to dance down your collarbone, her lips momentarily leaving yours to trail featherlight kisses along the column of your neck. Each kiss sends rousing jolts down your spine, your skin burning wherever her lips touch.

When Wanda's hands reach the hem of your sleep shirt, she breaks away from your neck, her eyes seeking permission in yours. “Can I...?” she asks, her fingers playing tentatively with the edge of the fabric.

You nod, suddenly breathless. “Yes.”

With that affirmation, she carefully lifts the shirt over your head, her eyes darkening to a point that there’s no longer any green in them.

It’s just pure, concentrated desire that pools there.

Her gaze flits across every inch of your now-exposed upper body, taking in every detail as though it's the first time she's seen you this way. She herself hesitates for only a moment before she slips out of her own shirt, revealing her own sculpted figure. There's a vulnerability in the way she bares herself, as if trusting you with a part of her she doesn't show many.

Your eyes skim over every detail that you can study, the heat in your groin intensifying at each discovery that they find. And then Wanda’s hands travel lower, reaching the waistband of your shorts. She hesitates for a moment, her fingers fumbling slightly with the material. The blush on her cheeks deepens, realizing she's almost crossed another boundary without asking.

“Is this...?” she trails off, glancing up at you in embarrassment.

Your heart warms to her thoughtfulness, but your mounting impatience soon overshadows your gratitude for it. “Wanda,” you murmur, leaning in to capture her earlobe gently between your teeth before whispering, “You can take off anything... or everything, if you wish.”

Wanda doesn’t waste any time after that.

Her fingers are nimble yet tremble slightly, their expedition deliberate and slow, as they trace along the waistband of your shorts, then dip beneath it, teasing the edge of your underwear. Her cool fingertips hit your skin, sending shivers down your spine as she slowly pulls the last piece of your clothing down your hips. Wanda's gaze is fixated, pupils impossibly dilating more when she notes the evidence of your want, a damp trail that marks the fabric. It clings momentarily before she manages to pull it free, the sight making her bite her lower lip. Her fingers trace the curve of your hips, the softness of your inner thighs.

“Y/N...” She looks up from where she's crouched by your feet, her eyes searching yours for permission, for guidance, for a map of where to go next.

Your entire body tingles with anticipation; every single touch, every single glance from her, sends a shock wave straight to your core.

“Wanda,” you find yourself begging, “Please... touch me.”

She raises an eyebrow, the corner of her lips curling into a teasing smirk. “Touch you? Like this?” The pads of her thumb trace patterns over your thighs, never reaching the place you ache for most, but close enough to make you squirm with desperation.

Your frustration mounts, a whimper escaping your lips, “No, deeper... there.” The confession makes your cheeks burn, but your pride is swallowed by the overwhelming need for her.

Wanda chuckles darkly, her hot breath fanning over your sensitized skin. “Say it,” she murmurs, fingers hovering, tantalizingly close but not quite there. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

You gasp, arching towards her, trying to close the distance, but she's swift, holding you just out of reach. “Wanda, please... I… I need your mouth. Please, please.”

There’s a pause, a moment where the world seems to stand still, and then her lips descend. The touch is light at first, teasing, testing, but then it deepens, becoming more insistent. The sensation of her mouth on you is unlike anything else—it's exhilarating, all-consuming. Your fingers tangle in her hair, guiding her, urging her on.

Wanda relishes in the power she holds, drawing out every moan, every shiver, and every gasp. She's just as lost in the moment, just as consumed by the fire that rages between you two. She can’t help but berate herself for delaying this, for going so long without having you this way, for being so stupid thinking for the longest time that you don’t want her the way she wants you.

You taste better than any dream she’s had of you. She’s growing addicted with every swipe of her tongue; she wants more. She wants everything. And if possible she wants it all the time.

The feeling of her mouth against you, combined with her own need evident in the way she's grinding down on the bed, makes your head spin. “Wanda…” you gasp, voice thick with want, “Fuck, you're so good at this.” The crass words roll off your tongue, unfiltered, raw, and honest. Every pull, every tease, has you on edge, gasping, holding onto the bedsheets for dear life.

For a fleeting second, you wonder how many others have known her touch before you. Jealousy flares within, but it's quickly consumed by a wave of throbbing want as she intensifies her ministrations.

Her muffled groan against you sends another jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and the movement of her hips against the bed is testament to her own growing need. But she doesn’t let up, even when you try to pull away, worried about how powerful the building pressure inside you is becoming.

Wanda only pulls back for a moment, to look up at you, her eyes dark with desire. “Give it to me,” she breathes, voice dripping with want. “I want to taste you. Every drop. I want you to mark me, to make me yours.”

That’s all it takes. A final lap of her tongue pushes you over the edge. And as you come undone under her touch, under her mouth, you call out her name, a broken chant of pleasure and surrender. Wanda drinks you in, savoring the taste, the feel of you, the very essence of your pleasure. Her own arousal remains unattended, but she doesn't seem to mind, lost as she is in the act of giving, in the heady satisfaction of having brought you to such heights.

“Come here,” you murmur. Your fingers brush through her hair, guiding her back up to your eye level. There's a stunned pause as you take in the vision before you. Your aftermath paints her lips and chin, making her look sinfully debauched, a marked contrast to the innocent glint still residing in her eyes.

Without a second thought, you pull her into a searing kiss. It's a gentle, tender exploration, which is surprising considering how explicit their previous actions were. You trace your tongue over her chin, cleaning the remnants of your release. The combined taste of yourself on her skin elicits another soft moan from your lips, a sound echoed by Wanda.

Pulling back slightly, Wanda's eyes meet yours. They hold a depth of emotion, gratitude, reverence, and an untamed desire. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice sweet and ironically innocent, her eyelashes casting feathery shadows against her flushed cheeks.

Your cheeks warm at her words, a blush spreading down to your heaving chest. “Wanda,” you laugh faintly, “It's me who should be thanking you.”

But she merely offers a soft, radiant smile, laying her head in the crook of your neck. She nestles her face under your chin, her breath tickling your skin. The beat of your heart thuds loudly in your chest, a rhythm that lulls her into quietude.

You allow her to rest for a few minutes, simply content at holding her like this. But soon, you feel her wetness dripping against your thighs, sparking a fervor within you, and you're consumed with the urge to give her the same heady pleasure she'd gifted you with, to mark her as irrevocably as she's marked you.

Shifting subtly, you maneuver yourself from beneath Wanda, reversing your positions. With a gentle but determined push, she's beneath you, her hair splayed out against the pillow, eyes shimmering with anticipation. You lean in, allowing the heat of your breath to tease the shell of her ear. “My turn now,” you whisper.

Wanda's hands, previously resting idly by her sides, now grip the sheets, awaiting your next move.

Your hands roam over her body, tracing every crease, every inch of skin that you've longed to touch. Wanda arches into your exploration, her moans growing louder with each teasing caress. You lean down, capturing her lips in a heated kiss, allowing your tongue to dip back into her mouth, tasting remnants of yourself.

Moving from her lips, you leave a trail of soft kisses along her jaw, down her neck, and to the swell of her breasts. Your hands deftly unclasp her bra, releasing her to your hungry gaze. You take a moment to admire her, drinking in the sight of her flushed skin, her dusky, hardened nipples. Leaning down, you take one of them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, earning a sharp gasp from her.

As you lavish attention on her breasts, one hand slides down her body, ghosting across the subtle swell of her stomach and then slipping between her thighs. The slickness that meets your fingers stirs your own desires again, and you can't help but murmur, “God, Wanda, you're so fucking wet. All for me?”

Her face flushes, but her voice is husky when she responds, “Only for you. Always for you.”

It’s all the confirmation you need.

You hurriedly hook your fingers under the edge of her soaked underwear, tugging it down and discarding it to the side. Her hips buck into your touch, seeking more, and you give it to her, slipping two fingers inside her. The sensation of her tightness, her warmth, makes you groan aloud. “So fucking tight,” you whisper in her ear, feeling her clench around you as you thrust in and out.

Her breath hitches, eyes glazed with lust as she moans, “Don't stop, Y/N. Please. I need more. I need you.”

Your fingers skillfully dance across her sensitive skin, exploring every inch and fold. Using a gentle circling motion, you focus on her most responsive spot, feeling her reactions and adjusting accordingly. You set a steady tempo, plunging deeper while keeping a rhythmic pace. All the while, your lips remain locked with hers, drowning out her escalating moans. As the pressure builds, her voice rises with each stroke, “Right there! Oh, fuck!”

You can feel her nearing her peak, her body coiling with tension. “Come for me, Wanda,” you utter the command in a low voice. You capture her lips once again, muffling her cries as she tumbles over the edge, her climax washing over her. You ride her through it, prolonging her pleasure until she's left a trembling, sated mess beneath you.

But you're not finished. Not by a long shot.

Wanda's eyes flutter open, slightly glazed from her recent orgasm, assuming that you'd simply come up to cuddle. But she's taken by surprise as you begin your descent, tracing your fingertips lightly over the soft skin of her abdomen, drawing goosebumps in their wake.

She takes in a sharp breath as you gently spread her legs wider, baring her entirely to your gaze. The sight before you is tantalizing—her glistening arousal, her puffed up lips, her clit beckoning, and the trimmed patch of hair that adds to her allure. She’s so beautiful. You can't resist; your mouth practically aches to taste her.

“Y/N,” Wanda breathes.

You glance up at her, locking eyes as you lower your mouth to her, the tip of your tongue barely brushing against her. The taste that greets you is both citrusy and slightly salty, and it has you instantly craving for more. Each lap makes you realize just how addicting she is, her unique flavor imprinted on your tongue, driving you to explore further, deeper. Wanda’s hips jerk reflexively, chasing more contact. Teasingly, you draw slow circles around her clit, drinking in every whimper and moan that spills from her lips.

You spread her open further, revealing every part of her to your ravenous gaze. The darker, tighter entrance catches your attention, and without hesitation, you press a gentle kiss there, relishing the gasp it elicits from her. With a smirk, you drag your tongue from that entrance all the way up to her clenching pussy, letting it flutter against her entrance and then up to the underside of her engorged clit.

“Fuck, Y/N!” she groans, her hands flying to clutch at the sheets, her body undulating with pleasure.

You can't help but chuckle at her response, but the sound is muffled by her wetness, by the intoxicating taste of her arousal. You're consumed by it, by her, and the sounds she's making. “You taste so fucking good,” you murmur wetly against her.

Her thighs tremble around your head, her breathing ragged. “Please,” she whines, dragging the word out, “Don't stop. I need... I need to come.”

You revel in the music of her pleas, the increasingly incoherent babble as you push her closer and closer to the edge. As you slide three fingers inside her, you can feel just how wet she is, how ready. The rhythmic squelch of your fingers moving within her is mesmerizing, and her body responds in kind, tightening impossibly around them, begging for more.

Looking up, you're met with the tantalizing view of Wanda, head thrown back, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat. That sight alone could bring you to your knees if you weren’t there already.

“I’m so, so close, please, Y/N…”

You wrap your lips around her clit, sucking gently, the vibrations from your moans against her causing her to buck her hips. Each movement, each stroke of your fingers and flick of your tongue, is designed to bring her closer to the precipice.

“Wanda,” you hum against her, sending vibrations straight through her, “Let go. Come for me.”

And then, she breaks.

With a guttural cry, her body convulses, pleasure rolling through her in waves. You don’t stop, not until she’s gently pushing at your head, her body too sensitive to take any more. You start to pull your fingers away, but Wanda catches them, drawing them into her mouth and cleaning them with her tongue. After a moment, you slide closer, capturing her lips in a lingering, tender kiss.

“That was...” she starts, but words seem to fail her.

You simply smile, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “I know,” you whisper, pulling the covers over both of you, trapping the heat between your bodies.

“Are you okay?” you ask. As the afterglow starts to fade, you remember the purple bruises you’ve left all over her breasts. “Was I too rough? I can... I can try to heal those marks if you want.”

Wanda shifts to look at them, her fingers ghosting over each one. “They'll be reminders,” she says with a small smirk, not sounding too bothered.

“I just want you to be comfortable, that's all.”

“And I am,” she assures, snuggling closer to you, letting her eyes drift shut. “Very much so.”

A few minutes pass with only just the faint, slow sound of breathing. You try to shake off a sudden insecurity that edges into your thoughts, but before you know it, her name escapes your lips.

“Wanda?”

She lets out a sleepy, “Hmm?”

“Was this... Was I... everything you expected?” you ask.

There's a brief pause, and then she shifts slightly, looking up at you, her eyes a little clearer despite her drowsiness. A smile forms on her lips, full of warmth and adoration. “Yes,” she whispers back, “And so much more.”

It's uncertain if you'll ever get your memories back. But this new one and the ones you'll make with Wanda make it less daunting to face a future without a past.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #captain america civil war #the avengers

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littleseasiren · 1 year

Text

Alpine

Summary: Your long-time crush Bucky has a secret, a tiny white kitten. She's the cause of some interesting situations between you and the handsome super soldier. When Bucky's secret gets out, will it bring you closer together or break you apart?

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Mainly fluff, mention of animal cruelty, threats of revenge on the abuser, Tony being an idiot until the reader makes him see sense.

Words: ~ 5800

A/N: Grammarly is my beta reader, so any mistakes are my own. Comments and reblogs will be appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from my tag list. Thanks for reading!

"Bucky!" Your voice echoes in the empty hallway.

The super soldier looks like he is going to ignore your call but halts after a few seconds. He turns around, eyes wide open in innocence.

"I didn't do anything..." he mumbles softly. "I gotta go."

He turns around once again and starts walking to his room, his steps rushed.

"Wait!" You run in front of him. When he doesn't stop, you walk backwards, keeping him in your sight. "Where were you? We were supposed to have lunch together?"

"Crap," he sighs. "I'm so sorry doll. I got held up and forgot."

"It's ok. I saved you a plate. Why don't you come with me then you can eat it?"

"I, uh... can't."

"Why? What's wrong?"

His eyes don't meet yours. "I just don't feel well. I gotta go."

He sidesteps you when a strange sound comes from his zipped-up hoodie.

"Bucky, what was that?" You run after him, his strange behaviour making you suspicious.

"It's nothing." When he sees you don't believe him he rubs his forehead in apprehension. "Uh, it was my stomach."

"Bucky, for a spy, you suck at lying to me."

When another sound is made, you realize it kind of sounds like a meow. When your eyes widen in shock, he firmly pulls you into his room and locks the door.

"Please, don't tell anyone." His eyes beg you, the blue seeming to hypnotize you until he carefully zips down his hoodie and pulls out an ivory-white ball of fluff, and holds it in his hands. The ball of fluff meows and turns to look at you. You gasp when bright blue eyes meet yours, the kitten seeming tiny in Bucky's large hands.

"I know we're not allowed to have pets. Trust me, I didn't plan on getting one. She just happened."

"She? It's a girl? Are you sure?" You move closer to him, reaching out slowly and rubbing the little cat's head and ears, making her purr softly.

"Yeah, I had to take her to a vet. He confirmed it." Bucky shifts his hold and that's when you see it. A small pink cast is on the kitten's back leg, along with a bandage on her small tummy. You can't stop gasping. Something bad had to happen to the little girl.

"What happened to her?" You ask Bucky as you both move to sit on his couch. From his hoodie, he pulls out a small bag and puts it on the table next to him.

"Humans happened to her. I was on my jog when I saw this car speed into an alley. He threw a box into the dumpster and just sped off. At first, I just thought he was a prick that needed to throw away some trash. But then I heard a faint noise. The closer I got to the dumpster the more I could hear. The box he had thrown away? It had her in it, all bleeding and crying for help. I couldn't just leave her there. So I took her to the vet to be patched up. Thought maybe they would be able to look after her, but since it's the holidays, they are full. So I had to bring her home."

You can't help but tear up at the thought of what the little kitten had gone through. "People like that should never be able to have pets, ever. They should cut something off too, just to remind him what he's done."

Bucky chuckles next to you but his eyes are dark with anger. "If I get my hands on him, he'll be lucky to make it out with his life. People that abuse animals belong in the ninth circle of hell."

"That's for sure." When she cries out loudly, you both startle. "She must be hungry. Did the vet say what to feed her?"

"Yeah, he said I have to give her this formula for now." He picks up the bag and shows it to you. "He says she's almost 4 weeks old, but since she's a bit malnourished, I need to feed her a little bit every 3 hours. I need to gradually begin to increase the time between feedings before I start introducing wet foods too."

When she cries again you both chuckle at how cute she is. "Guess it's feeding time," he smirks at you as he stands up and walks to his small kitchenette. "Do you want to hold her?"

You almost squeal in delight, your smile lighting up the room. "Yes, please!"

Bucky decides to call the kitten Alpine, due to her snowy colour. You completely agree with him, the name fitting her like a glove.

The two of you work together to feed Alpine before you offer to go out and buy toys and kitty litter for her, secretly hiding it beneath bags of clothes.

When you come back, the two of you set up her supplies and settle in for a long evening of watching movies and feeding the cutest cat in the world.

You wake up to warmth beneath you and a small pressure on your lower back.

You moan softly, feeling safe and peaceful when a gentle touch runs down your side. Your eyes blink open in surprise and find blue eyes smiling up at you.

"Bucky, I-" you move to get off the big supersoldier but he stops you by grasping your shoulders gently.

"Easy doll, Alpine's going to fly off you if you get up. She's laying on your back."

"Oh," your eyes widen at the situation you find yourself in. You're laying on your stomach, your head on Bucky's shoulder as he lays beneath you. Your stomach to his chest, legs intertwined with a sleeping kitten on the small of your back.

You've never been this close to Bucky before, seeing for the first time the sprinkle of tiny freckles on his face, his full lips and perfect white teeth open in a smile. Why is he smiling?

Your cheeks burn in humiliation as you realise you've been staring at him and he's noticed.

Before you can apologise, he's talking, voice a little hoarse. "I'll lift Alpine then you can climb off. Just give me a second. I'll try not to wake her..."

"Ok," you whisper, eyes unable to meet him. When his arms creep up your sides, you have to hold in a moan that threatens to burst out of you at his touch. The man you had a crush on for months was touching you, but not in the way you wanted him to.

You pretty much hold your breath when his biceps sandwich you on both sides as he gently scoops up the sleeping kitten in his hands then holds them high in the air as you wiggle out from above him.

When he whimpers you look up at him but his eyes are the epitome of innocence so you must have imagined it. There was no way he liked you too, you weren't so lucky.

His muscles ripple beneath his shirt as he slowly stands up and walks to the new cat bed you had bought earlier, softly laying Alpine down as she continues sleeping.

When Bucky straightens and your eyes meet, you can't help but smile at how gentle he is. A lot of people think he's a miscreant, a bad man born from years of fighting, but he is the sweetest, kindest man that you have ever met. And Bucky holding a small kitten in his hands, so gently like she was made of glass? It just made you love him more.

The heavy look between the two of you is broken when someone knocks on his door.

"Bucky? It's me," Steve's voice calls out from the door. You freeze, not knowing what to do. You quickly duck down next to the sleeping Alpine, hidden from view by the couch.

You hear Bucky walk to the door and crack it open slightly.

"Hey, what's up?" Bucky asks casually, making you smile at his words. He's definitely picked up some slang since he joined the Avengers.

"Hi, Buck. Is Y/N here with you?"

"Uh, no she's not here. Why would she be?"

"Well Buck, unless you started wearing her perfume then I'm guessing she's here." You can hear the smirk in Steve's voice.

You take a deep breath and rise from your position behind the couch. "Hi Steve," you say with a small wave.

"She was...uh...helping me with something," Bucky says to Steve, arms crossed in discomfort.

"I bet she was." Steve's grinning like an idiot, his eyes twinkling with laughter.

"Tony needs your help on a project," Steve says to you as he looks around the room once again. "Are we going on our run?" He asks a brooding Bucky.

When it seems like Bucky is going to object, he quickly continues, "We'll be quick Buck. Thirty minutes tops."

Bucky sighs but relents. "Fine. Give me ten minutes then I'll meet you downstairs."

Steve winks at you as he exits, gleaming.

Finally, you and Bucky are alone again, neither of you knowing what to say.

The silence is broken by a small cry, Alpine letting the two of you know it is feeding time.

"You go doll. I'll quickly feed her then meet Steve and come back as soon as possible. Hopefully, she'll sleep while we're away." He smiles at you, his blue eyes twinkling with some emotion that you can't place.

"Ok, I'll try and be quick too, but with Tony, you never know. See you soon," you add as you exit the room.

A little more than half an hour later, you're back in Bucky's room, calling out softly but no one answers. Thinking he's not back yet, you enter his bedroom in search of Alpine.

She's on his large bed, napping peacefully when the bathroom door opens and Bucky walks out in what appears to be the tiniest towel that he owns.

"Oh, hey doll. Didn't know you were back yet. I just forgot to grab my clothes."

"Uh-huh." You nod automatically, eyes focused on the beautiful man in front of you. His sculpted chest is the first thing you see, his muscles so much bigger up close. In the corner of your eye, you notice his scarred shoulder where it meets his metal arm, but you gaze away quickly, knowing it makes him uncomfortable when people stare at it.

Your eyes focus on a bead of water in the centre of his chest, slowly rolling down his sternum and between his well-defined abs, the ridges causing the drop to roll slower and slower until it reaches the edge of the towel he's holding in a clenched fist.

When he clears his throat, you snap out of the trance his amazing body seduced you into. Cheeks on fire, you glance up at him, seeing a confused smile on his face.

"You alright doll?" His voice is rough, husky even.

You bring an unsteady hand to your beating heart, hoping he won't hear how hard it's pounding. Eyes wide, you stare at him. How long had you been ogling him? Before your treacherous eyes could dip down again, you take a small step back.

"Me? Oh, fine." Your hands clench together as you do your best to concentrate on your words. "The, uh, cat... Yeah, I need to feed..." Crap, your eyes move down on their own, this time noticing just how large his right arm is, the muscles bulging as he holds onto his small towel.

"You need to feed... the cat?" He's smirking now, his blue eyes shining in the morning sun.

Focus! "Uh huh," you mumble before turning around and starting to walk out of the room. It takes you a second to realise you forgot one crucial element to your plan as you spin around again and pick up Alpine before shutting the bedroom door behind you.

You catch your breath as you lean against the door, Alpine reaching up with her small paws and rubbing her head against your chest in comfort. "Oh, Alpine. My mind went completely haywire in there."

The second you said the words, anxiety fills you once again as you pray that Bucky didn't hear you speaking to Alpine. Having a super soldier as a friend was sometimes very tricky...

When the bedroom door opens, you're busy playing with Alpine, making her run after a feather tied to a string. You feel his eyes on you but you do your best to avoid looking at him. He watches the two of you for a moment before his voice fills the room, his body moving towards the door.

"Um, I'll go get us some food. You must be hungry?"

"Thanks, Bucky. That will be nice." You look up at him and give him a quick smile before moving your attention back to Alpine.

"Ok, I'll be right back, you two." He says as he opens the door then stops instantly, seeing Steve standing outside.

"Uh, hey Stevie. I'm gonna go get some food, you want to join?" He mumbles quickly, trying to distract Steve from what he had said earlier.

"You two?" Steve's eyes are wide open, a look of astonishment on his face. "Please tell me you don't have two women in there?" Before Bucky can say anything he continues. "You've always been kinky, but two at the same time? Maybe you should see-"

"Steve!" Bucky shouts, breaking Steve's tirade. You watch the exchange, too stunned to do anything. Steve is instantly silent until a loud meow comes from in front of you.

Bucky sighs as Steve pushes through the door and drops down next to you. "Why is there a cat in here?" He whispers to you.

"Bucky rescued her. The ass that had her decided he didn't want a cat anymore and threw her out like trash. Bucky saved her and brought her here." You inform him as he sits cross-legged on the floor.

"I know we're not supposed to have pets, but I couldn't just leave her. And the shelters are all full." Bucky joins the two of you on the floor and smiles as Alpine rubs her head on his knee before moving to Steve slowly.

The kitten looks up at him before slowly moving closer as Steve extends his hand, giving her a chance to sniff him before she rubs her side on his stretched fingers.

"Hi sweetheart," Steve says as Alpine climbs into his lap slowly, the cast on her leg making her slow. "She was injured then?"

"Yeah, I took her to the vet before I bought her here. I swear if I ever see that-" Bucky clenches his jaw so hard, you're afraid he'll break something. You reach out and hold his hand, showing him you understand. "I'll throw him out like the trash he truly is. Except he won't be alive when I do." He huffs out.

"You've always had a soft spot for animals, glad that hasn't changed Buck." He scratches Alpine's head before he starts giggling. "So, technically, I was right. You do have two women in your room. One's just a feline."

"Yeah, we all know what you were thinking Steve. So much for Captain America being a gentleman."

"Haha, I am a gentleman. I just never said I was innocent. And neither is he. I know him, he's still kinky. There was this one time one of his dates asked him to-"

"Steve!" Bucky whisper-shouts. Steve just winks at you in reply. Just what did she ask Bucky, you ponder.

Bucky blushes when his eyes meet yours for a second.

"Why don't you leave me with the cat and you two go grab some food? The others are becoming suspicious of your absence." Steve says as he strokes Alpine softly.

You and Bucky glance at each other and nod in agreement.

"Her name is Alpine," Bucky says on the way out. "She's been fed, so just keep her company. Thanks, Steve."

"And please don't tell anyone about her, she's our little secret," you add on the way out.

Bucky's making his way to the kitchen when you pull him to the side. If your hand stayed on his arm a few seconds too long, you chose to ignore it.

"Um, maybe I should go in first, then you follow in a few minutes? Or do you go in first? If they see us entering together..." your voice trails off, the implication of your words clear to him as his eyes widen and his breath catches.

"Uh, yeah sure. You don't want to give them the wrong impression." His jaw clenches for a second, eyes turned down before he continues. "Maybe I'll check if Sam is still in his room first." He turns around and starts walking in the opposite direction, his sudden departure astounding you. Just what was his issue now?

He and Sam enter the kitchen a few minutes later, his gaze fixed on the plate of food he fills.

"So Bucky, haven't seen you around today," Natasha says in a sultry voice. You know she's with Steve, but you can't help your hackles rising at her tone. Were you jealous?

He glances at the two of you swiftly before focusing on his food again. "Yeah, I've been busy."

"Very interesting... Y/N's also been busy today."

"Well Nat," your voice is full of irritation, "we are Avengers. So we should all be pretty busy, don't you think?"

The beautiful redhead just looks at you before bursting out laughing. After a few seconds, you can't help but join her.

Sam and Bucky just look at the two of you in confusion.

"That was good honey," Nat says between giggles as you continue eating.

By the time lunch is done, Bruce and Tony had made an appearance too.

You were just grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge when Bucky approached you, the others having left earlier.

"Doll, I gotta ask," Bucky says as he bites his lower lip, "Before when you said I make your brain go haywire... did you mean that in a good way or in a bad way? I know I can be a lot to handle sometimes..."

You suck in a deep breath, your heart racing. So he did hear you earlier. You start to deny it when you see the look in his eyes. Did he really think you could ever think anything bad of him?

"Oh, um. I had hoped you wouldn't hear that." He's standing close so you have to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes. "But I meant it in a good way." When he doesn't seem to believe you, you continue. "Bucky, you were standing in front of me with just a tiny towel on, of course, I meant it in a good way. You know you're attractive..."

Blue eyes light up as he smirks at you. "So you think I'm attractive huh? So when can I see you in just a tiny towel? To even the odds?"

"Keep dreaming big guy," you reply as you gently punch him on the shoulder.

The two of you giggle together before Bucky looks at you with adoration in his eyes.

"Maybe I will..."

When you don't answer he clears his throat softly.

"Um... hypothetically, if I stopped being a wuss," he swallows hard, "and I asked you out on a date, what would your answer be?"

Some part of you wants to tease him and make him suffer, but you don't. "Hypothetically, if you asked, I would say yes. Definitely yes."

"Yeah?" His smile is huge, making the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Sam appears in front of the two of you, trying to reach for the fridge.

"Sam, not now!" Bucky groans at the man, lightly pushing him away.

"But I want a cupcake!" Brown eyes cry out.

"You just had lunch! You'll get indigestion! Now buzz off!" Bucky forces him to turn around and pushes him forward, making Sam huff in frustration.

When Bucky looks at you expectantly, you simply nod in answer. "Yeah, Bucky. But you still have to ask me," you tease him.

"You little minx! Fine." He takes a deep breath, "Will you go on a date with me? Tonight if you're free?"

"Of course Bucky." Your smile drops, making Bucky anxious. "But who's going to look after Alpine? Can we ask Steve?"

"Yeah, he and Natasha can look after Alpine."

You stare at Bucky, trying to understand him. "Nat and Steve?" You inquire.

Bucky snorts in reply. "There's no way that punk hasn't already told his lady about Alpine. The fact that he's dating a spy hasn't helped him be able to keep secrets. Not from Natasha."

"Are you sure of that? I think we should give Steve the benefit of the doubt. I'm sure he can keep Alpine secret for a while..."

"You wanna bet doll? $100 says she already knows."

"Sure, but let's make it interesting. Let's see," you tap your index finger on your chin, "if I win, you have to... take me shopping."

Bucky groans in defeat. You know he hates going shopping. "And if I win? What do I get?"

You eye him up and down, "What do you want?"

The corner of his lip lifts in a half smile. "You really shouldn't be asking me that."

"Keep it PG, Bucky!" You say as you tap his shoulder.

"Fine," Bucky lifts his hands in defeat. "If I win, you have to kiss me."

"Deal!" You're way too fast in your answer, making Bucky laugh. "Come on, let's see who wins!" You hook your hand into his elbow as the two of you make your way to his room.

Steve's guilty look is the first thing you see when you enter the room. Natasha is lying on her stomach next to him, running her finger on the floor, laughing as Alpine chases after it.

"Steve! How could you?" You cry out in mocking anger. "I defended you, yet you caved so easily?"

"Sorry! I tried but she saw right through me!"

"See doll? I've known him forever, he's a weakling!"

"Hey!"

"Well, it's true isn't it Steve? You lasted like, what, two minutes?"

"Five," Natasha giggles next to him. "Good thing I like that he can't keep secrets from me."

Bucky's eyes are beaming with the promise of your kiss. "So, when do I get my reward?"

You grab his shirt and pull him down to you, clasping your hands around his neck. You lean in closer, your breath mixing with his, before you lean to the side and kiss him on his cheek.

You're giggling as you pull back, a look of astonishment on his face. "Hey, that's cheating!"

"Sorry Bucky, you never specified where the kiss had to be." You giggle as you join Nat on the floor. Your gaze fixed on Alpine stumbling around.

Bucky is smiling as he joins the small group on the floor. Alpine's movements become slower and slower before she admits defeat and climbs into Bucky's lap. A tiny white ball of fluff on Bucky's thick thighs.

"Guess it's time for a nap," Steve says as he helps Natasha up from the floor.

You know you're in trouble when Natasha's green eyes meet yours. "I think it's time we had a chat."

Bucky picks Alpine up slowly, making sure not to wake her as you, Natasha and Steve depart.

"So, what's going on with you and Bucky?" Natasha asks as soon as you are far enough away to prevent Bucky from hearing. Steve had left to get lunch.

"He asked me out on a date," your stare ahead, a big smile on your face.

"Finally! You two have been pining for each other for months! And the kiss on the cheek?"

"That was a bet. He believed Steve had already told you and I thought he would keep Alpine secret a little longer. So he won and I owed him a kiss."

"Uh-huh. Anything else happened with him? I picked up some tension between the two of you at lunch."

"Um, I might have fallen asleep with him last night. When I woke up I was lying on top of him with Alpine sleeping on my back. We had to wiggle to get up without waking her." You bite your lower lip, "Then this morning I was looking for Alpine when I kinda walked in on him getting out of the shower in a tiny towel. I swear Nat, seeing those muscles up close almost made me pass out!"

"Seems like Alpine is the perfect matchmaker! She's getting the two of you into great situations!"

Natasha is bubbling with laughter as the two of you make your way to the training room. You are eager to work off some nerves before your date.

"Ok Alpine, what about if I take her to a fancy restaurant for dinner?" You hear Bucky's voice softly through the door, a small meow being the only answer.

"Yeah, you're right. It's a bit normal for a first date right? I don't want her to think I'm boring." It's quiet for a second then you hear his voice again.

"A movie?" Another meow, softer this time.

"Nope, she won't be able to sit still unless it's a very interesting movie. So what then?"

"I know, I'll -"

You knock on his door, not wanting to hear what he has planned and spoil all his fun.

You hear him say something on his way to the door, and Alpine seems to agree enthusiastically if her loud purr is an answer.

When Bucky lets you in and closes the door, you see Alpine sitting on his shoulder, nails holding onto Bucky's shirt for stability.

"Hey, doll. Watch this!" He's beaming as he takes a seat on the couch and removes Alpine from his shoulder. He puts her on the couch and wiggles his left hand. She drops down into a crouch then runs up his metal arm, her back leg struggling along, nails fitting into the grooves of his metal arm perfectly until she's back on his shoulder again, a loud purr coming from her tiny body. "Pretty soon she's going to be able to do all kinds of things. There's no stopping this lady!"

When Alpine's gaze falls on you, she meows and rubs her head against Bucky's neck then stares at you again.

Getting the picture, you move closer to the two of them and bend down to rub her adorable head. Her tail is curled around Bucky's neck as she leans forward into your touch, purring loudly in happiness.

Bucky pulls you softly forward, making you sit on his knee, his arm around the back of your waist holding you close. His smile is enchanting, a similar grin forming on your face. When he leans down closer, your breath catches. This is what you've been waiting for, a kiss from Bucky Barnes will certainly kill you with pleasure. You've barely begun to feel his lips on yours when his bedroom door shoots open, Steve's imposing figure standing in the doorway.

"We got a problem, Buck." He hastily says as he closes the door and moves closer to the three of you. You climb off Bucky's lap and sit down next to him, watching as Steve approaches.

"Wanda and Vision just came back from their mission. Wanda has a concussion so her powers are a bit wonky. Natasha and I were busy whispering about how to help you keep Alpine a secret. Wanda heard our thoughts and got so excited that you have a cat that she repeated it out loud and... Tony heard. He's on his way here now and he doesn't look very happy."

You gasp in surprise and turn to see Bucky running his hands over his face, knowing what is to come.

"Maybe we can hide her?" You begin to say but are interrupted by the knocking on the door.

"He won't believe it," Steve sighs in defeat.

"You two just stay out of it, ok? I can take whatever he throws at me. He hates me already anyways." Bucky stands and walks to the door. Alpine held onto his shirt, cuddled up into his neck.

Tony looks Bucky over, eyes hardening in anger. "Barnes, I give you food and shelter, pay you for going on missions, I take care of you even though I can't stand to see you some days. And all I asked for were a few rules to be followed. One of those rules was no pets. Am I correct in my assumption that that is a cat on your shoulder?"

Wanda, Natasha and Sam creep into the hallway, watching the scene unfold.

"Yes, Tony. I'm sorry. I found her and the shelters are full for Christmas. I didn't have anywhere for her to go."

"Well, either the cat goes now or you both go. Your choice." Tony doesn't even blink when he gives his ultimatum.

Bucky's brows drop in concern, eyes wide open. "You can't be serious Tony. Give me some time-"

"I don't care Barnes. The cat goes right now."

"Tony you can't!" You shout from the doorway, Steve behind you.

"I can do whatever I want. This is my Tower in case you've forgotten that. I'm willing to overlook your involvement in this but don't make me regret it. Any of you." He says as he faces the others.

"It's ok doll," Bucky says softly as his fingers rub your hand for a second. When he faces Tony again his jaw is clenched with anger. "I'm not going to abandon her too. Alpine and I will be out in 10 minutes."

Bucky walks into the bedroom, his meaning taking a few seconds to sink in before everyone pushes into the room, talking a huffing Tony with them.

"Bucky no," Steve calls out as Bucky grabs a bag in his room, starting to fill it with a change of clothes.

You face Tony, your anger making you shake with adrenaline. "I thought you were better than this Tony. Bucky found Alpine being thrown away like trash, her leg broken, ravenous with hunger. She's barely a month old. Now you're going to punish him for doing the right thing? For following his heart and taking care of a helpless animal? You are an asshole if you punish him for that. You're just letting your anger towards Bucky cloud your judgement. If Bucky and Alpine have to go then so will I."

"Doll don't-" Bucky starts but you interrupt him.

"No Bucky, I don't want to work for someone who hates innocent animals and would prefer to keep them on the streets. I refuse to work for anyone like that. I'm just disappointed that the mighty Tony Stark is like that." You glare at Tony, brown eyes meeting yours for just a second.

"Don't leave without me Bucky. I'll be back in five minutes." You start to walk out of the room but Tony stops you.

He stares down at you for a moment before he sighs in defeat. "Her leg's really broken?"

"Yes, it's really broken. Bucky saw a man stop in the alley and throw the box in the trash, luckily he heard her cries and rescued her. He took her to the vet and the vet fixed her up. She's a tiny kitten, Tony. If it was you who found her, would you have just left her there?"

He doesn't answer you as he turns to Bucky's bedroom. "Let me see her."

Bucky gently wraps his large hands around her tiny body, being careful of her cast before he softly puts her in Tony's outstretched hands. He watches Tony like a hawk, analysing his every move to make sure he doesn't hurt his baby kitten.

Tony brings her closer to his chest, his right hand stroking her head softly as sky-blue eyes gaze at him in appreciation. "I don't hate animals. I just can't have everyone running around with their pets. This is a dangerous place, and we can't have dozens of animals staying here. If I allow one person to have a pet, the others would want them too."

"Maybe Alpine can be the Team's cat? She already has a bond with Bucky but animals have so much love, they give it to anyone who loves them in return." You grasp Bucky's hand and give it a squeeze. "Besides, a cat has a mischievous side too, the more people who engage with her, the more fun she'd have. It'll help her stay out of trouble."

"You'd be willing to share her?" Tony asks Bucky hesitantly.

"Of course, I hate having her cooped up in my bedroom, the more she can explore, the better. Besides, this cutie needs all the love she can get. Together we can show her that not all humans are bad."

"Fine, Barnes and Alpine can stay." Tony relents, making the others cheer in response. "But I'm cuddling with her in the living room first!" Tony calls out as he walks out of the room, mumbling to Alpine that he will buy her the best of everything, including a big climbing set as soon as her leg gets better. The rest of the team follows Tony, each adding to the list of what has to be bought for the best kitten in the world.

"So Bucky, you get to stay, after all."

"Thanks to you, doll. What you said was amazing, I've never seen someone rip into Tony so easily." Unsure blue eyes meet yours. "Would you have left with me? If he hadn't changed his mind?"

"Yeah Bucky. I would have. What I said was the truth. I'd go anywhere with you."

"You're so sure I'm worth it? That I'm good?"

"Bucky, you saved a helpless kitten. You did it because you cared, not because you wanted praise or attention. Hell, you tried to keep it a secret! Anyone who cares so much about animals that they are willing to walk out on what they know just to keep them safe can't be bad. It's impossible. You're the best Bucky. And now that Alpine has a whole family to look after her, I think it's the perfect time to go on that date you owe me."

"Of course, doll. Anything you want."

"Anything?" You smirk at him, wickedness in your eyes.

"Anything," he replies as he drops his head down, hands wrapping around your waist. Your arms circle his neck as you stand on your toes to meet him, kissing him like you've wanted to for months. And he's all too happy to reciprocate.

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#bucky x y/n #bucky barns x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #steve rogers #the avengers #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #avengers tower #tony stark #animal lover #stop animal cruelty

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braidlottie · 29 days

Text

“mother” knows best.

pairing: stepmom!lottie x virgin!transmasc!reader

summary: after getting comforted by your stepmother, she thinks of a way to get rid of your stress.

tags: smut, nsfw, 18+ (minors dni), stepcest, age gap, reader is 19, lottie is in her 40s, comfort sex!!,, soft!mommy!lottie, sloppy kissing, virginity loss/first time, breast sucking, handjob, crying, corruption?,, charlotte is used instead of lottie, the niCKNAMES!,, if anyone is know irl sees this no you didn’t

wc: 1.2k

a/n: am i cooked?

unlocking the front door with your house keys, you finally step into your house, feeling so tired. it was only 8 pm and you were ready to crash. you were about to go upstairs when you heard a female voice that startled you. "ignoring me now, honey?" you didn't even notice your stepmother on the couch, reading a book.

"oh- sorry. i didn't see you sitting there." you apologized, and she just shook her head with a smile. "come sit down, honey," she patted the couch cushion next to her. "did your father let you use the car?"

you sat down and shook your head. "he told me he had to go to work early again. but i took the bus." charlotte gave you a look of disapproval, but you knew it was for your dad. "you know i don't like you taking the bus at night, let alone walking." even though she wasn't your birth mother, she still cared about you tremendously. "i'll talk to him later." she put her glasses on her head, taking a sip of her tea.

"you doing okay, sweetie? what's wrong?" a comforting hand wrapped around your waist. "rough day?"

you nodded, resting your head on her shoulder, trying not to doze off. "you know you can tell me. it's not good to keep what you're feeling bottled up inside." she patted your thigh, saying her second sentence a little quieter than the last.

"i was late to class because of the bus, and my professor gave us our essay grades, and mine was a 68, and i don't know why because i worked so hard on it and he won't even tell me what i did wrong. and i didn't have a chance to get any lunch because i had to study, and i'm so tired, mommy." your voice quivered at your last word, covering your teary eyes with the collar of your shirt.

"oh, honey..." she took her book out of her lap and put it on the coffee table, instantly taking you in your arms. "there you go. just cry, baby. let it all out for mommy." she rubbed your back, rocking you while you were hunched over her lap, crying into her lap.

you stopped after a few, wiping your eyes again with your t-shirt. you've never cried in front of your stepmother, but she made you feel so loved that you wanted to cry even more. she pulled your shirt off your face, wiping your eyes with her soft hands. they were cold as well, cooling down your face.

"you're such a hardworking boy, you know that?" charlotte brings you closer, running a hand over your hair. "and such a smart boy.. and a good boy." she gave you a kiss on the temple, shushing your faint whine. "i think you need to relax a bit, hmm?" her hand slowly shifted up your thigh, making you squirm.

she wiped what was left of your tears, and kissed you on the cheek, the corner of her lips touching yours. your heart jumped at the feeling, staring back at her big eyes.

she went in for another kiss, planting one directly on your lips. you couldn't help but break the kiss, trying to catch your breath from the sudden connection. "charlotte... we shouldn't." she could tell you were flustered but scared of getting caught. "this- this is kinda wrong, don't you think?"

"not to me, darling. i just wanted to cheer my boy up, mommy can't do that? can you let mommy help you?" her voice was like velvet, but you couldn't give in. "what about dad?"

"he won't know if we don't tell him, right?" she nodded and you followed her action innocently. “now, c’mon. you gonna give me another kiss?”

you hesitantly nodded before sitting up to peck her on the lips. when you pulled away, she snickered, taking her glasses off her head. “what? what did i do?” you panicked, thinking you did something wrong.

“that’s your kiss? really?” you shrugged and looked down, playing with the thread on your jeans. lottie realized that she upset you and immediately apologized. “oh- i didn’t mean it like that, sweetie. have you ever kissed someone before?”

you looked up at her, shaking your head. it was silent for a second before she spoke again. “..have you ever had sex?” she watched you shake your head again, feeling herself get covered in goosebumps.

“that’s perfectly fine, honey. you’re still young.” her smile grew bigger by the second at your answer. “just relax.” she whispered, hands rubbing up and down your tensed shoulders. she kissed you once more, smirking when she felt your lips melt against yours. “good boy...” her voice was deep but soothing as she chuckled softly, slipping her tongue into your mouth.

she guided your hand to her breast, giving you permission to fondle them. “you know you want to. shy boy.” she teased. you bit your lips, hand trembling as you pulled down the collar of her v-neck, watching her nipple pop out from the cloth. you look up at her, mouth agape.

“use your mouth, baby. c’mon,” she pushed your head closer, feeling your breath on her breast. you kissed the perked bud before swirling your tongue around it, getting a sharp exhale out of your stepmother. her hand rested on the back of your neck, knowing she had you wrapped around her finger.

her hand found the zipper of your jeans, managing to unbutton as well with her other hand on your head. you felt the cold air touch your thighs, squeezing your legs together with a faint whimper. “i don’t bite, pumpkin. open those sweet legs for mommy, hm?” she coaxed, tapping your thighs. she pushed your head back into her nipple, moaning as you latch back on.

you let charlotte tug your pants and boxers down to your ankles, the pads of her fingers swirling around the head of your t-dick. “there’s my boy. just feel good for mommy.” you gasped, letting go from her breast to moan, resting your head back against the couch. your squirms made her put an arm around your waist, feeling yourself get dizzier by the second.

“mama, mama,” you sob, the pressure in your stomach worsening. you try to repeat the phrase again, but only make out a slurred mumble. “shh, shh… oh baby… can’t even think of the right words to say to mommy. are you so close? i can tell you’re right on the edge for mama.”

her words sent a shiver up your snipe, body jerking forward as you came against her fingers. you left quiet the mess, squirting into your clothes, charlotte’s hand, and the edge of the couch.

“good boy. such a good little boy for mommy.” she pulled away from your tdick, holding you close as you came down from your first orgasm. “he’s gonna see the stain, mommy. on the couch.” you whined, scared that your father would find out about your night once he came home.

“shhh, baby. let mommy take care it, okay? c’mon, i’ll run you a bath and clean it up before he gets back. i promise, honey.” she took your jeans off your ankles, and pulled your boxers up, helping you off the couch. you nodded, knowing you could trust her with anything. “that’s my boy, mommy loves you so much.”

you could tell she really meant it, squeezing your hand tight before pulling you into a hug, giving you the affection you’ve always wanted and needed.

taglist: @t4tnat @jaywritessometimes @girltwinklater @kessellluvr @lotties-ashwagandha @shipmanisms

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #lottie x reader #lottie matthews smut #adult lottie #stepmom!lottie #adult!lottle #lottie yellowjackets #lottie mathews x reader #charlotte matthews

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roxygen22 · 5 days

Note

following this beautiful sickness ask trend...female reader fainting due to stress & her having a small argument with/getting scolded by Timothée while he takes care of her?🩷👀

Can't

You could hear the rumble of Timothée voice, but you were unable to focus on his words. While he chattered on while looking at his laptop right beside you, it sounded like he was rooms away. It took all of your energy and mental faculties to focus on just trying to breathe. Black spots crowded your line of sight as you put a hand out onto the counter to stabilize yourself. The motion caught Timothée's attention.

"[Y/N]?" he asked in concern.

"I-," was all you could mutter before your knees buckled. Timothée jumped from the bar stool to catch you as you fainted. "Whoa, [Y/N]! [Y/N]!" He gently lowered you to the ground and laid you on your back. He shook your shoulders and patted your cheeks. "Come on, [Y/N]. Wake up!"

Your eyelids fluttered and he released a shuddered breath in relief. You looked around, momentarily confused.

"You passed out. Again." Timothée looked down at your face in disapproval. "When was the last time you ate anything? Drank any water?" He helped you slowly sit up and lean against the couch.

"I'm fine. Stop fussing," you said, embarrassed.

"Stop fus- Listen here. YOU aren't the one who has to watch YOU faint. It is scary as hell. Every time I am terrified that you aren't going to wake up. One of these days I'm not going to be here to catch you before you hit the ground. Now. Answer me." He furrowed his brow and locked eyes with you. "When was the last time you ate or drank anything?"

Your eyes fell. "I don't know."

"You have to stop overworking yourself. You have to take breaks and take care of yourself."

"I know, but the success of the project I've spent YEARS of my life on comes down to getting this one thing right. I can't stop."

"Dammit, [Y/N], it's not worth your health," he shouted. "You need to slow down. The world, this project, will not collapse if you take 15 minutes here and there to take care of yourself."

"I CAN'T, TIMOTHÉE," you snapped.

Timothée recoiled slightly at your reaction. "And I can't watch you do this to yourself anymore," he said quietly. He got up, grabbed his keys and wallet, and walked out.

You stared at the door with your mouth agape in disbelief for a solid two minutes before tears clouded your vision. You and he have had heated arguments before, but never once had he walked out. He's right, you thought to yourself. You won't be doing anyone any good if you end up hospitalized.

You shakily stood, pushing yourself up using the frame of the couch for support. You slowly walked to the refrigerator and refilled your water bottle. Nauseous and lacking energy needed to make a meal, you opted to snack on crackers instead. You traipsed back to the couch and all but collapsed with your kitchen haul in hand. You hadn't stopped and relaxed in so long, you really weren't sure what to do next. Before you could grab the TV remote, you heard keys unlocking the front door. Timothée stepped through.

"I couldn't leave knowing that I just left you on the floor." He shrugged, hands in his pockets, unable to make eye contact.

"I'm glad you did."

His head shot up as he gave you a questioning look, unsure if he heard you correctly.

"It was uncharacteristic enough to shock me to my senses. You were right. No job is worth my health, and certainly not worth losing you over. I'm sorry, Timothée."

"I don't want an apology. I want to see action. Shut down that laptop for the night. Relax. Be with me. Please."

"Deal," you smiled and patted the seat next to you on the couch.

<><><><><>

Masterlist

Tag List: @groovyqueer, @bluizh, @jindongdongie, @croatianprincess

#timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet x you #Timothée chalamet x you #timothee x you #Timothée x you #Timothée x reader #timothee x reader #sickfic #hurt/comfort #slight angst #whump #timothée imagine #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee fanfic #reader insert

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punkshort · 8 months

Text

Chapter warnings: graphic depictions of violence, death, language

Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

February 2004

Des Moines, IA

You gripped your knife tightly in your fist, the blade pointed towards the ground as you crouched silently forward, choosing your steps very carefully. About 5 feet away from the runner, you stupidly stepped on a piece of glass you didn't notice embedded on the thin carpet. The runner whipped around with a scream, lunging towards you snapping its teeth in the air. You sidestepped it at the last minute, kicking and making it fall face first onto the ground. You jumped on its back and jammed your knife deep into its skull, blood dripping down to absorb into the floor as you panted heavily.

"What the hell was that?!" Joel yelled, whipping the back door open. You felt the cold blast of air hit you, even from all the way across the restaurant. You tugged on your knife, removing it from the runner's head and wiped it on the back of its shirt before putting the knife back on your hip.

"There was one left, must've missed it," you called back to him, brushing yourself off and walking towards the back of the room.

"Shit, I swore I got 'em all. You good?" He said, looking you over with his flashlight as you approached. You held up your hand to your eyes to block the beam of light.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I fucked up," you said, lowering your hand when he aimed his light down, satisfied you were not harmed. "I stepped on some glass, had to get creative. You think we can stay here the night? I think these cushions come off the booths. Not sure we can find any extra blankets here, though."

"We can put on layers, we've been through worse," Joel said, already yanking on some of the booth cushions, pulling a few out on the floor to sleep on.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, then check the kitchen. I'll be right back," you dropped your pack on the ground and strolled off towards the women’s room in the corner. Once you were done, you stared at yourself in the mirror over the bathroom sink, shocked to see how different you looked. You hadn't seen a mirror in several weeks. Your face looked more hollow, you definitely had lost some weight. You pulled your hair out of the ponytail you typically kept, realizing that it was the longest you’ve seen it since you were little. You tried running your fingers through it to manage it a bit, but it seemed hopeless. You gathered your hair back behind your head and slid the hair-tie over it once again.

You didn't find much left in the restaurant kitchen, which was a huge disappointment. You were running low on food, having walked through thick forests and then open prairies for the past two weeks, not coming across any shelters to raid. Joel had purposely redirected you to this city in the hopes of restocking your food supplies and taking a short break from sleeping in the freezing cold wilderness. Luckily, your bow and arrows proved very useful, and kept the two of you fed when you had barely anything else to survive. Joel had never used a bow before yours, so you had taught him the basics from what you could remember. He seemed to have a knack for survival. He caught on very quickly and soon became better with it than you.

You sighed as you opened the last cupboard door, finding it just as empty as the rest. You were about to close it when a colorful wrapper caught your eye, shoved all the way in the back behind some pots. You reached your arm in as far as it could go, your fingertips barely grazing the item before you managed to pull it forward a smidge and grab it. You could have cried you were so happy with what you found.

“Joel!” you called out as you walked back into the dining room, heading towards the small lit up area he made for the two of you and your sleeping bag already rolled out on your cushion. “You’ll never believe what I found!”

He turned around from adjusting his own sleeping bag. He immediately spotted the jar in your hand and groaned. “Peanut butter!” he exclaimed with relief, “Fuck yes.” He sat down on his cushion to dig out the spoons from your packs. You both ate in silence, enjoying eating something other than rabbit or squirrel for the first time in weeks. You still had some provisions in your packs that lasted you about a week after you left Chicago, but as you traveled more out west, the options became limited, and the weather slowed you down significantly, causing you to eat through a lot of your food. You had become dependent on the wildlife for sustenance, and you got lucky, but it was getting old.

Joel had been kind enough to bury your parents before you moved on. He didn’t want you to have to help carry their bodies, so he had to make do with burying them where they were killed. He found a broken shovel about half a mile down the road in an abandoned mechanic’s shop, and it took him the rest of the day, but he made sure they were taken care of. He even found some large rocks to mark their graves. He was worried about you for a long time after that. You were distant and didn’t speak much. He didn't know what to do, other than giving you space and time to process your grief, while taking on as many of the responsibilities he could to keep you both alive. He insisted on being the one to hunt as often as possible. He sought out as many safe places indoors to set up camp as he could, even if it meant wasting half the day’s sunlight, he would sacrifice it so you would be more comfortable. He stayed in those places a day or two longer than he wanted, just so you could possibly sleep a little more soundly. It hardly mattered anyway: he wasn’t convinced he would ever find Tommy, or even if he was still alive. There didn’t seem to be much rush to your journey anymore, but it gave you something to fight for, so he kept pushing forward.

Then, one day, he did something to make you laugh. He couldn't even remember what it was, but hearing the sound made him desperate to make you do it again. So, the next day, he tried telling you a shitty joke, and you laughed again. Every time he heard it, he felt his chest loosen and his breathing eased. You seemed like yourself again, but he could tell the deaths of your parents changed you. You became more hardened, more focused, and angrier at the world around you. He noticed the way you took down infected with such ferocity, such disdain. It used to bother you, but now you could kill one without blinking an eye. He knew it was foolish to expect your innocence to remain intact, but every night he still wished he could somehow shield you from it all.

Somewhat full, you laid down on your cushion and wrapped yourself in your sleeping bag, exhaling softly and closing your eyes. Joel gazed at you a little longer than he should have before he leaned over to turn the lanterns off. Tomorrow, he knew you would have to venture back out into the cold and find some more food. He had hoped this restaurant would have had more than enough, but someone before him must have thought the same thing. He turned his head to glance over at you again in the darkness, listening to your steady breathing. He still ached for you, desperately. He hoped he didn't read the signals wrong that morning in your bedroom - there was no way he could have - but the more time that passed, the more unsure of himself he became. He was so close. So close to tasting you again, holding you in his arms, protecting you from the evil surrounding you.

He stared up at the ceiling and focused on falling asleep. He needed to be alert and well rested so you could finally find some food and get back on the road.

The two of you were walking down the street the next morning after having eaten the rest of the peanut butter and not much else. This part of town seemed to be abandoned by people, but you did come across a few infected. Most of the time, you heard them clamoring about in a closed up building you passed, but a few did cross your path that you had to take down. Joel had a theory that the infected slowed down in the colder months, that maybe they went dormant, or it was just harder for them to move. Whatever the reason, he seemed to be right. Even when you did come across one, they seemed a lot slower, making your job much easier.

As you made your way towards the end of the road, the houses and trees cleared and you could see further ahead, smiling when you saw a familiar logo. You turned to Joel, who seemed to notice it, too.

"I don't think I've ever been so excited to see a Walmart before," you said, smiling in his direction. He chuckled, shaking his head.

"It's a big store, we gotta be real careful. Ain't no way we can clear the whole place by ourselves," he told you as you entered the parking lot. "Gotta stay close together and be silent. No guns. Let's just stick to the grocery section, take what we need, and get the hell out." You nodded, looking at the building as you approached it from the outside, trying to listen for any noise coming from within. Joel put his hand out on your arm to stop you, making you twist around and giving him a confused look.

"I mean it," he said, looking serious. "Could be a whole hoard in there. And it'll be dark. It's risky."

"I know, I'll be careful, I promise," you gave him a look just as serious to prove you were paying attention. His eyes shifted back and forth between yours before nodding his head in the direction of the store.

You both stepped quietly inside the store through the broken sliding door, clicking on your flashlights and looking at your surroundings before making a move. Your attention went up to the signs hanging above the aisles, spotting the grocery section was straight ahead past the cash registers. The two of you crept forward, careful not to step on anything that would give away your position. You walked through the bakery, surrounded by moldy bread. So far, the place seemed quiet, but that didn't necessarily mean it was empty.

The store was reasonably picked over but there were a few things left on the shelves you could use. You packed your bag with rice, chicken broth, a few cans of dented soup, and a jar of pasta sauce. For the sake of being extra quiet, you motioned with your finger for Joel to step forward, and you stretched to whisper in his ear.

"We should check out the stock room," you said quietly, your breath tickling his neck. It wasn't the sexiest thing anyone had ever said to him, but that didn't matter. He nodded and suppressed the urge to shudder. He picked up his bag and led you to the end of the aisle, looking both ways before leading you to the swinging doors on the wall. Joel held out a hand for you to stay put while he pushed the door open a crack, sweeping his flashlight across the room. It had aisles, just like the store, but it wasn't as neatly organized. Once he confirmed it was safe, you both entered, scanning the shelves to pinpoint where the groceries were stocked. Your flashlight landed on a corner of the room where you recognized boxes of crackers and cans of vegetables. You nudged him with your elbow, and you both made your way over, checking down every aisle before advancing.

Your jaw dropped at the amount of food that was left. Someone had the same idea as you, it wasn't fully stocked, but it was much more well stocked than the shelves out front. You hurriedly packed your bags with as many useful items as you could carry. You were so hungry, but you had to resist the urge to rip into anything right then and there, afraid the noise of a wrapper would possibly draw attention.

You were just finishing up when Joel wandered towards the end of the aisle, his flashlight settling on something shiny the next aisle over. He squinted and bent down to get a closer look through the shelves. By the time he realized he was looking at blood pooling around a dead clicker, it was too late. A pair of arms reached out behind him, yanking him backwards. A hand covered his mouth and an arm squeezed around his neck, making his vision go fuzzy. His eyes shot over to you in a panic. You were still crouching over your backpacks, facing away from him, and zipping them closed. He brought his hands up and laced them together before driving his elbow behind him, hitting the man right in the diaphragm. The grip on his throat instantly loosened and the man doubled over coughing. You whipped around now, your knife already in your hand. You watched as Joel brought his knee up to the man's face twice, blood bursting from his mouth and nose, staining Joel's pants. Joel drove his knife into the man's eye, his body twitching before slumping on the floor at his feet.

Joel looked up just in time to see you dodging the knife of a second man, kicking him in the groin before shoving your knife between his ribs. He ran down the aisle to you, hearing the man's raspy breaths as blood filled his lungs. You pulled your knife out and stabbed him again, this time closer to the heart. The raspy breathing stopped, and his body relaxed against the linoleum floor. Joel sighed in relief, slowing his pace, his heart pounding.

Then he felt something hard hit the back of his head, causing him to fall forward, his vision narrowing as he fought the urge to pass out. Joel felt the heavy boot of his attacker sticking to his back as he tried to push himself up, but his head was swimming, and he couldn't find the strength. He collapsed back on the floor with a grunt, blinking his eyes frantically trying to clear his vision. He was struggling to breathe with the weight of the man's foot pressed on his back, and once again raised himself up to try and roll over when the pressure on his back was suddenly gone. He gasped for breath, pulling himself into a seated position and shaking his head wildly, his vision finally clearing.

You had tackled and pinned Joel's attacker on the ground, sitting on his chest as you struggled with his knife between the two of you, the blade pointed downwards towards his throat as you gritted your teeth and pushed down with everything you had. His feet kicked wildly underneath you, trying to roll you off, but you weren't budging, your eyes burning into his as the blade scratched at his throat. Joel stumbled to his feet, still dizzy, as he struggled to make his way towards you. With a loud grunt, you put all your weight onto the hilt of the knife, lifting off his chest and finally piercing through his skin until you could feel the tip of the knife make contact with the linoleum. He laid underneath you gurgling as blood poured from his neck, his eyes wild with fear. You panted heavily, letting your muscles relax after the strenuous fight. With your weight off his chest, the man was able to grab a second knife you hadn't noticed from his belt and stabbed frantically at your side, which you tried to swat away before his arm grew weak and he stopped breathing.

Joel's arms wrapped around you and lifted you off the dead man, turning you around to look at you closer with his flashlight. Your face was splattered with blood, your hair wild, covered with sweat and still gasping for air. He aimed his flashlight lower and noticed a big red circle of blood staining the side of your t-shirt. His breath caught in his throat and the adrenaline sharpened his vision as he lifted your shirt up gingerly. You winced when the fabric peeled away from your skin, not realizing you had been hurt until that moment.

"Oh, fuck," Joel whispered and his breathing picked up as he glanced around for something to stop the bleeding. You had been stabbed along your ribs and down your side. He couldn't tell how deep the wound was in the dark, but it was enough to cause you to bleed heavily. He grabbed a used rag from his jeans pocket, pressing on your wound firmly, making you cry out in pain. He wrapped your hands over the rag and instructed you to press as hard as you could. He ran back to grab your packs, slinging both backpacks, the rifle and the bow over his shoulder. When you saw him trying to pull everything onto his back, you held your hand out to him.

"Give me my pack," you rasped. He shook his head, still trying to find a way to carry it all. "Give it to me!" you raised your voice in a harsh whisper now, giving him a look that meant were serious. He relented, gently putting the straps over your shoulders, then pulling out a new rag to wedge between your side wound and the strap of your backpack.

You leaned on Joel as he led you out of the back room, pausing briefly to make sure there weren’t any others, then headed back towards the front door. It began snowing while you were inside, and the wind was picking up, making it difficult to see. He looked around, desperately trying to find a safe place to take you.

Across the street he could make out a strip mall, and one of the buildings looked like it was a dentist's office. It was a long walk across the big parking lot, but he moved as fast as he could while you leaned on him for support. He propped you up against the building to catch your breath as he used his knife to work the lock of the office open.

"Stay here," he instructed. You nodded weakly; your eyes half closed. He pushed the door open and checked to make sure the small office was empty of threats before taking you inside. He helped you sit down in one of the exam chairs, pushing it back so it reclined. You stared up at the ceiling and at the lamp dangling over your face. Joel pushed the curtains open in the room and looked down at the wound on your ribs, noticing the amount of blood increased due to the walk across the street: it was now trailing down past your hips and nearly touching your mid-thigh. He took the soiled rag from your hand and replaced it with a fresh one while he went to work ripping open drawers and cabinets. He finally found a needle and thread and a stack of stainless-steel bowls. He set the needle aside and picked up some of the bowls.

"You keep pressin' as hard as you can, you hear me?" he said, and you nodded as you draped your other arm across your eyes. "I gotta go out and get some snow, I'll be back in a minute. You holler if you need anythin'."

Joel stepped out the door with the bowls in his hand, glancing around to make sure no one had followed you. He scooped up snow into the bowls, grateful it had begun to storm since it would hide your tracks and keep any raiders away.

He came back into the room and saw you had nearly bled through another rag. He set a couple bowls aside to melt into drinkable water and took a handful from another, pressing it against your wound. You hissed at the contact, but after a minute the numbness from the cold made your muscles relax.

Joel dug around in his pack to find some rubbing alcohol he had taken from your apartment months ago. He found another clean rag to drench the alcohol in and removed the snow from your side.

“I ain’t gonna lie to you, this is gonna hurt. You need to hold onto somethin’?” he asked you, trying to hide the tremor in his hand. You shook your head, turning your face away from him and gripped the arm of the chair anyway. He pressed the alcohol-soaked rag onto the stab wound, finally cleaning some of the blood away to get a better look at what he was dealing with. You groaned and your body tensed, but you remained as still as possible while he cleaned you up. He could see a stab wound between two of your ribs. It didn’t look very deep, but it was wide. He made his way down your side, cleaning the blood up as he went with the snow and then the rag, refreshing it with alcohol when he needed to. There was a longer gash down the length of your side, maybe about five inches long. It was wide, but it was shallow. There were a few other scratches as well, but those would be fine to heal on their own. He gauged the main problem would be the wound between your ribs, and the long gash.

He turned around to prep the needle, filling a bowl with some rubbing alcohol and pulled out more rags. Turning back to you, he was startled to find you looking at him. He swallowed, bringing the needle and black thread towards you.

“Are you ready?” he asked you, and you nodded steadily, but he could see the fear in your eyes. He laid a hand on top of one of yours reassuringly. “I got this, I got you,” he said. You turned away from him then, staring at the wall opposite you as you braced for the pain. The first few times he pierced you with the needle hurt the most, then as you got used to the pain and knew what to expect, it got a little easier to handle. He took his time with the stab wound, he wanted to make sure he didn’t have to redo that later, then let you have a break before starting on the long gash. He told you it would only need a few stitches, just where the wound was the widest so it wouldn’t scar too badly. That part ended up hurting the most since it was closer to the bones of your ribs and there was less fat to cushion the pain.

Once the stitches were done, he rinsed everything with the rubbing alcohol from the bowl, his hands and needle included. He made a mental note to keep that needle in his pack in case one of you got hurt again.

“You hungry?” Joel asked you, and you nodded eagerly but then winced at the pain the movement caused. He dug around in his pack for some of the food you had grabbed from Walmart and set you up with a few things to eat, then went to explore the rest of the office in hopes of finding some medicine. He got lucky in the dentist’s actual office, finding a few bottles of antibiotics and some pain killers in his desk drawer. He made sure you took two antibiotics with your food before finding something to eat for himself. He sat hunched over against the wall in the room, looking down at his food and avoiding eye contact. You adjusted yourself in the chair so you could look at him and let out a whimper when the movement was too much. He shot up to help you, but you waved him off.

“What’s going on?” you asked him directly, staring him down. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with grief and anger.

“This was my fault,” he said bluntly, a clipped tone to his voice. “I wasn’t payin’ attention, I should’ve seen that guy comin’, and it got you hurt. If somethin’ worse woulda happened, I never would’ve forgiven myself,” his voice broke at the end of his sentence, looking away from you so you couldn’t see the emotion in his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault. We got jumped, don't beat yourself up about it. Please," you told him, trying to catch his eye again but failing. "Joel?" you said, but he turned away, rubbing his hands up and down his face like he always does when he's frustrated. "Joel!" you called out again, this time more firmly. He stilled, and slowly turned to face you, dropping his hands to his sides.

"Us or them," you said, staring intently at him, desperately trying to communicate the words you couldn't say.

He let out a shaky sigh, and nodded, breaking eye contact with you and gazed out the window at the snow fall. "Shoulda been me," he said quietly.

"Yeah, well," you grunted as you struggled to sit up in the chair, "I'm glad it wasn't because I couldn't carry all our stuff and you out of there," he turned his head to look back at you, then giving him a smirk, added, "I would've left you for dead."

His lips twitched as he tried to hold back his grin at your joke, not ready to forgive himself yet. He cleared his throat and leaned over to sling your backpacks over his shoulders.

"The dentist had a couch in his office. C'mon, grab my shoulder, lean on me," he said, bending forward so you could get yourself into a standing position. It took a few tries; the pain was worse than you had expected now that you were moving. You slowly ambled down the hall with Joel, and he got you stretched out on the couch before he unzipped your sleeping bag and rested it on top of you like a blanket.

He rolled his own sleeping bag out on the floor next to you, grateful the couch came with two pillows. It had been a long time since either of you slept on one. It was still daylight out, but the blizzard made it darker outside. Joel let you rest while he went around the office to see if there was anything else of use now that he wasn't so frantic. He had completely missed the small break room towards the back of the building. He found some unopened bottles of water, snacks, a couple cans of soup and crackers. He spread all the usable food out on the table but brought the crackers back with him to check on you. You were still laying stiffly on the couch and staring at a stock photo of a beach on the wall, looking uncomfortable.

"Are you in pain? I got some pills from the drawer," Joel dug out the bottle and read the warning label. "They sound pretty strong." You shook your head, not wanting to dull your senses in case of another attack, but now that the stiffness was setting in, the pain was getting worse. You glanced out the window, seeing the storm outside. Deciding it was unlikely anyone would be out in the snow and find you, you changed your mind and stuck your hand out to him. He dropped two pills into your hand and gave you a water bottle.

"Here, have a little somethin’ more to eat with those, don't need you gettin' sick," he said, offering the crackers in your direction. You took the sleeve from him and munched on one slowly as you waited for the pills to kick in. Joel walked around to the desk and collapsed into the leather chair, kicking his feet up on the desktop and mindlessly flipped through open patient charts left on the desk. You shoved another cracker in your mouth and watched the snow coming down outside. You sat up a little more on the couch. The movement made you feel dizzy from the pills, but you hardly felt a thing at your side when you moved. Your eyes drifted lazily to Joel’s broad figure sitting behind the wooden desk. It brought back memories you hadn’t thought about in months. Memories of a different time, when you would sit on the other side of his desk all flustered and nervous.

He looked up and caught you staring at him. “What?” he asked, a bemused expression on his face. You shook your head but couldn’t stop the stupid smile from spreading across your face. Goddamn pills.

“Nothing, it’s just funny…” you started, trailing off and then giggled, causing Joel to raise his eyebrows and grin.

“Those pills must be workin’, huh?” he asked, his grin widening. You nodded, stifling your giggles and took a deep breath.

“I was just thinking, everyone used to be so scared of you in the office, they would warn me to steer clear of you, that you had a horrible temper. And look at us now,” you let out another giggle before continuing. “What the hell happened?”

He smiled at you again and tipped his head back on the top of the leather chair to look up towards the ceiling, remembering life the way it was before.

“Yeah, I was an asshole, wasn’t I?” he said, making you laugh harder now, then you clutched your side with a small wince. “Hey, take it easy, you might not feel anythin’ but you can still pop a stitch.” You quieted your laughter now, knowing he was right, and chewed the inside of your cheek thoughtfully, reminiscing about those days just 6 short months ago. Joel rolled his head to the side to look at you. “I didn’t scare you, though,” he said quietly, not sure why he was encouraging you while you were in this state.

You glanced back at him and shook your head, then held up one finger. “Only once,” you said definitively.

He stared at you and held his breath. He knew exactly what you were referring to: the argument the two of you had that was never brought up again. The day he called you a whore and ruined everything. He was the first to look away, casting his gaze back down on the desk before him. He should have apologized by now, he should have explained himself, but he always found an excuse to avoid it. Today’s excuse was you were too loopy on the pain pills and that conversation needed to happen when you both had a clear head. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers as you waited for him to say something. Anything to take back what he said.

“I think you should get some sleep,” he finally told you, dropping his hand and looking up at you. You knew he was going to avoid talking about it, but you were still disappointed. The pills had really taken effect now as you felt your eyelids grow heavy. You sighed, scooting down to lay flat on the couch and pulling your sleeping bag over you. You closed your eyes but couldn’t resist saying one more thing.

“I would do anything for you,” you whispered before nodding off. Joel’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes fluttered shut as he tried to hold back the tears that unexpectedly sprung to his eyes.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he whispered back, but you were already asleep.

The storm let up after another day, which was just as well since it allowed you more time to heal. Joel didn’t want to stay long at this place, worried that the attackers had a larger group and would come looking for you. Once the snow stopped and you had replenished your backpacks with more rags, first aid, and the food from the break room, you were off at first light. You both realized quickly that you were making terrible time since the snow was knee deep and you were already struggling to stay balanced due to your injury. After a very slow mile, Joel had found a sturdy fallen branch for you that he broke down into a more manageable size, allowing you to use it like a cane in the snow. You had to admit that it made traveling a lot easier, but you were still fighting to hide the throbbing pain at your side. After another hour, Joel agreed to let you rest. He made sure you took your antibiotic and ate some more crackers. Your feet felt numb, even though you had 3 pairs of socks and thick hiking boots.

"Joel," you whined, looking up at him standing guard as he surveyed the thick forest around you. "How much longer are we going to walk? This snow is so deep, and my side is killing me."

"I gotta find us somewhere safe, then we can stay there til you're all healed up and we'll wait out the rest of winter, I promise," he said, looking down at you now and meeting your gaze, "I'm gonna take care of you."

You sighed and regretted complaining almost immediately. You could tell he was still beating himself up over how you got injured and you didn't want to keep reminding him of it. He was shouldering too many responsibilities and you could see the worry and anxiety behind his eyes.

"Alright, let's get moving, I'm good," you said, using your stick to pull yourself back up into a standing position. Joel glanced over you once more to make sure you were, in fact, 'good' like you claimed. Satisfied, he turned and led you through the woods. The trees were thick, mostly pine trees that kept all their needles in the winter. It was good to keep you hidden but it was also bad because it could keep someone else hidden, too.

After another few miles, Joel paused a moment to examine his map. He had a general idea where you were, but he didn’t exactly have a destination in mind. He just figured he would know it when he saw it, and it turned out, he was right.

His head was down examining the map in his hands as he walked through the forest and approaching a clearing. Now he wasn’t sure he knew where you were, since the location on the map still showed greenery up ahead. He was mumbling to himself about getting turned around when you gasped, and his head shot up.

You had stumbled across a small neighborhood of about ten or twelve houses, all surrounded by the lush forest you had just hiked through. He had to blink a few times, feeling like he was looking at an oasis in the desert. As you approached the neighborhood, you passed a sign that read 'Hidden Springs - lots starting at $200,000'.

"Man, they really knew what they were doing when they named this place," you joked as you walked side by side down the abandoned street. The houses were all finished except for three which were partially constructed, forever frozen in time.

"This must be a new neighborhood, that's why it ain't showing up on the map," Joel said excitedly as he spun around to make sure you were still alone. "I haven't seen any tracks or smoke or nothin', this place is off the grid," he turned to smile at you. "We can work with this."

You grinned happily, so relieved to finally have found a place where you could rest for more than a couple nights.

"Well, which house d'you want?" Joel asked, looking at all the houses up and down. They were mostly two-story houses, but there were a couple of small ranch homes interspersed. You spotted one in the middle of the neighborhood on your right-hand side and pointed to it. it was a white two-story house with blue shutters and a red door.

"I've always wanted a wraparound porch," you said. "What do you think?" He couldn't keep the smile off his face, the whole place seemed too good to be true and best of all, you would be happy and safe.

He made his way up the front porch to peer inside the windows. He didn't see any movement, and fortunately it looked like the previous owners had a chance to move in, spotting the fully furnished living room. He had insisted on making you wait outside until he could be certain the place was abandoned before letting you in. The house was beautiful and practically brand new. You drifted from room to room to get a feel for the layout: the stairs and a hallway leading to the kitchen faced you right as you walked in the front door, a living room to your right and a den to your left, and a half bath attached to the hallway. The kitchen had a small mudroom attached, which led to the backyard. Upstairs there were three bedrooms and a bathroom. The master bedroom was the only room that had windows facing the front of the house, so you chose to stay in that room, both of you slipping into the king size bed without even questioning if you should sleep apart.

Chapter Thirteen

Taglist: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us game #the way we were joel miller fic

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totallynotlx · 7 months

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Take me with you

A/N: I dunno why I wrote this. I dunno if this is supposed to make me feel better or worse but hey, I just wanted to let this out lmao. Also I'm still working on that other fic and that's where I'll be coping hard so enjoy this one (or not asdfkjasd) for now

Tags: Death, Greiving, Coping, JJK spoilers, not proofread so there's that

Word Count: 753

All you see is an empty corridor devoid of any pop of color. All you hear is the soft tap of your shoes against polished wood. The numbness is there, yet you seem to feel everything simultaneously. Your heart felt like it was breaking with each step as if you were trampling over it. You suppress the urge to claw at your chest like it will ease your anxiety. The usual hallway you would pass by every day without any thought felt like it stretched on forever today. You take a right instead of going straight to the classrooms today. This is also different from your daily routine. You continue on your lonely journey through the quiet hallways and reach the end of the hall, where a staircase leads you to the basement where Shoko's lab is located.

With each descent you make, you can feel your resolve crumbling away. Death wasn't a new concept to you, not when you were in the Jujutsu world. Death is a concept that visits every once in a while. It's not a welcome one, but a common picture nonetheless.

You round the corner and see the usual silhouette in the lab coat. Shoko's head was downcast, looking at a lifeless figure on the table. You catch a glimpse of a familiar large hand and take a sharp inhale of breath before steeling your emotions.

"Shoko." Your voice came out like a mere whisper. The woman's shoulder tenses up before turning to you.

"Y/N." She says in acknowledgment of your presence.

"Am I... Is he..." Your words were stuck at the back of your throat. They won't come out. "I'm sorry, I can't—"

"It's alright." She says but shakes her head almost immediately. Yeah, nothing is alright. "I'll be upstairs if you need me." She says as she taps your shoulder lightly. Without her blocking the view, you turn away from the lifeless figure before you. You nod silently, and she makes her way up, leaving you in the cold and silent room.

Inhale. Exhale.

You prepare to face him, slowly turning your head and seeing his hand in your peripheral vision again, only to turn away. You lean an arm against the table where the inanimate body lies silently.

"I can't do this." You plead to nobody in particular, turning your head to the ceiling, focusing your eyes on the light, and fighting against the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Your breathing hitches, and you slowly reach out a hand towards the hand that lay dormant on the table. It was cold. The usual warm hand that traced circles on the back of your hand was cold. Your other hand reaches to your chest and scrunches the shirt you wore like the movement can stop your heart from hurting. A silent cry escapes your lips as you hold his hand in yours. He usually returns the favor by pulling your hand towards his lips and kissing the back of your hand with a smile, but it is absent now. Your eyes trail over his hand, up to his arms, before finally settling down on his face.

Eyes closed. Body eerily still. His disheveled, blood-soaked hair drooped over his eyelids. He was still the same Satoru you remembered. The strongest, the best, but now he lay here lifeless. You take note of the wounds that covered his body, and even though a white blanket was draped over his body, you could see the gap near his waist.

He's gone.

The fact hit you like a train. The thought alone made you lose control over your emotions. You wailed, letting out a deep-seated cry from within your soul as you threw yourself over to his chest, stone-cold and unmoving.

"Satoru," you whispered his name like a prayer, "Satoru, I can't do this." You tell him as you cup his face with both hands. "At least take me with you, damn it." You chuckle, but there is no life in it. He'd probably chide you if he heard you say that, but you were only met with silence.

"You said you'd come back to me," you scream, "you said you'd win!" You continued to cry as you clung to him for dear life. "Satoru, please..."

Your voice trailed off, and as the room was filled with your cries, you were only met with more silence. You knew Satoru would like you to continue living for his sake, too, but is a life without him worth living?

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk angst #my prompts #gojo my beloved i hope u rest well （；´д｀）ゞ #the title is just me being dramatic #also came from a joke where i told my friends that if this man goes ill go with him lmaoooo #﹒⭔﹒take me with you﹒✿

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wolfjackle-creates · 10 months

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Answer My Call

As promised, this is the first chapter of @gilbirda's Wrong Number AU all fixed up. A lot of it is the same as the original version, but a lot has changed. It went from 3,059 words to 5,392. I'm gonna try and get somewhere with the next chapter of this, but no promises on time-frame. Also working on transferring at least the first chapter of all my WIPs over to AO3. This'll be the only time I tag a bunch of people for this as I'm gonna set up subscription posts.

Find the original prompt and fill here.

Find the Subscription Post here.

And the AO3 version here (locked to logged in users, reach out if you need an invite).

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

----------

Jazz sat in a Nasty Burger booth and stared at her food. She'd ordered Danny's favorite, but her stomach was so in knots she didn't think she could eat.

All of this was her parent’s fault. If they weren’t so close minded and horrible, if they’d just accepted they were wrong…

Her circling thoughts were interrupted by a balled up napkin landing on the table next to her tray. Jazz was half to her feet ready to yell at whomever threw their trash at her when she saw Sam in a frilly yellow dress walking to the counter with her grandmother.

Huffing as if annoyed, Jazz settled back down and straighted the napkin. In messier-than-normal writing, Sam had scrawled the message:

I got him an old phone before he ran. His number is XXX-XXX-XXXX.

As surreptitiously as she could, she pulled out her own phone and saved the number to the encrypted folder Tucker had set up. Then she destroyed the napkin by soaking it in her unfinished pop and throwing her entire tray away, uneaten food and all.

Well, there was nothing else she could do in Amity. Might as well start the long drive back to Boston.

Upon reaching the edges of town, however, she realized leaving wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought. A GIW checkpoint had been set up and all incoming and outgoing traffic was being questioned.

Two agents approached her car before she could turn around and try a different way out. She did make them knock on her window before deigning to lower it just an inch, however. After what they’d done to Danny, she would never willingly play along with their games again.

“Ms. Fenton,” said the agent as soon as she realized she wasn’t going to open the window any further, “we need to search yourself and your vehicle. You are a known ecto-entity sympathizer and are suspected of assisting in the escape of subject P1. Vacate your vehicle immediately.”

“All I did was come back to my hometown to find my missing brother. I’ll need to see a warrant before you search my car.”

“Ms. Fenton, I don’t think you understand the situation. Due to the escape of the highly dangerous specimen P1, the town is under our a state of emergency. Mayor Masters has instated martial law to ensure the safety of all citizens. You can either vacate your car or you will be under arrest.” He grabbed a packet of papers from an inner pocket of his suit jacket and pushed one end through the crack in Jazz’s window.

Jazz took them and skimmed. The agent wasn’t lying; anyone caught breaking curfew or suspected of harboring or otherwise assisting a ghost would be arrested without bail immediately. All because her brother escaped that torture chamber. She stepped out of the car.

It took over an hour for the agents to search every inch of her car, purse, and luggage and convince themselves she didn’t have Danny hidden away somewhere. By the time she was allowed to go on her way, her jaw hurt from how hard she was clenching her teeth and her eyes stung with tears.

She hated Vlad. And the Guys in White. And the US Government. But finally she was free to leave.

And then she realized the white van was following her out of city limits. Really? Was she going to have to deal with them tailing her, too?

She ground her teeth and eased up on the gas pedal, moving to the right lane. Her father had taught her how to drive, but she’d learned better from the internet and recorded driver’s ed classes. She followed the speed limit exactly, only changing lanes to pass or allow others to merge on. Through it all, her focus remained on the white van behind her. She recognized Agent O as the driver.

Every so often his attention would slip and he’d wind up closer to her than intended. And then, finally, forty-five minutes after she started her perfect driving, she saw him yawn.

“Eat dust, creep!” Jazz shouted as she slammed her foot on the gas and jerked the steering wheel to swerve into the next lane. A chorus on horns followed her as she crossed the median and began going in the opposite direction. She had learned some things from her dad.

Two exits closer to Amity, she got off the highway and stopped at a Target for a burner phone which she activated at a local library. Then she got back on the highway east.

To her satisfaction, it took Agent O three hours to find her again.

-----

That night at a motel in who-knows-where Pennsylvania, Jazz double checked the locks on the door and that the curtains were closed before pulling out her new phone.

Her fingers trembled as she typed a message and sent it to the number Sam had given her.

Hey, Danny, it’s Jazz. Sam passed on the number for the phone she gave you before we were all separated. Please let me know you’re safe. Love you.

Jazz stared at the phone, hoping for a reply.

She woke with the phone clutched to her chest, but no new messages. Her breath caught and then she was curled around the phone crying.

“Danny, you’d better be okay,” she mumbled through her sobs.

But then her main phone alarm went off and Jazz forced herself up from the bed and into the shower. She could get through this. She had to.

An hour later, with her makeup applied and secret phone well hidden in her bag, she was back in her car and getting on the highway, a white van keeping pace behind her.

That night she was back in her dorm room in Boston. Her roommate tried to ask her questions about how her trip home went, but Jazz brushed off the concern. If she’d been honest, her roommate wouldn’t know how to reply anyway.

Instead, she waited until the other girl was taking a shower to pull out the burner phone and send another message.

Made it back to Boston. They’re following me now. Please don’t come here. It’s not safe. I know they’re keeping close tabs on Sam and Tucker, too. But they don’t know about this phone. Love you. Let me know you’re safe.

The next day, she got a phone call from an unknown Amity number during her Literature class. With a hurried apology to the professor, she gathered her supplies up and rushed out of the classroom as she answered the phone.

“Jazz speaking.”

“Hello, Ms. Fenton. My name is Detective Ramirez. I’m calling regarding your brother, Daniel—“

“Danny,” Jazz corrected automatically. “He prefers Danny.”

“Right, Danny. It appears he’s missing.”

Jazz’s breath hitched. She knew that, of course. But hearing a stranger say it so bluntly hit different. She walked faster, there was a single stall bathroom just a floor up.

“His teacher, a Mr. Lancer, reported his disappearance yesterday and your parents admitted they didn’t know his location either when we went to check on him. Do you know where he may be?”

“I don’t.” Finally, there was the bathroom. She rushed in and shut the door behind her, locking it before sliding to the ground. “Have— Have you figured out how long he’s been missing?”

“Near as we can tell, it’s been a week. Do you know why your parents wouldn’t have reported him missing?”

Jazz let out a mirthless laugh. “Are you from Amity, detective?”

A pause, then he said, “I am.”

“Then you know my parents. They were probably too busy trying to torture a ghost to notice Danny.”

“Would it be possible for you to stop by the station to answer some questions?”

“I’m in Boston for school, detective. You can come here or I can answer any questions you have on the phone. I will not be going back to Amity unless it is to see Danny.”

“Very well. Did your brother have any motivation to or history of running away?”

And so began an hour long interrogation. Jazz played her part to perfection. She cried, she begged, but she didn’t give him anything.

That night, after her roommate went to bed, she sent another text.

A detective called today to see if I might know where you are. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him anything. Maybe next time I’ll let slip some lies, send the GIW on a wild goose chase. Love you. Let me know you’re safe.

It became a ritual. Every day she’d keep her head down and go about her classes ignoring the agents following her and once a day when she could guarantee her privacy, she’d send another text to Danny. Each one ended the same way.

It’s been a week since you escaped. Did you make it to the realms? Love you. Let me know you’re safe. The detective actually came all the way to Boston to interview me. Can you believe it? I cried on him and begged him to find you and may have mentioned how much you loved visiting Aunt Alicia who lived off the grid. Hopefully that’ll distract them. Love you. Let me know you’re safe. Agent K tried to wait for me outside my Psych class today. I just met his eyes and glared until he said something into his walkie talkie and left. Love you. Let me know you’re safe. Today is your birthday and you're still not responding to me. I don't know what I'll do if you die a second time on me. Love you, let me know you're safe. Sam, Tucker, and I can't talk. We're under too close of surveillance. I think Sam is being home schooled now and Tucker got a scholarship and his parents sent him away from Amity. I don't know if it was the GIW or Vlad, but promise me you won't return to Amity. Love you, let me know you're safe. I got a call from the detective. They've basically given up the search. Of course they couldn't find you. I guess mom and dad made the call to have you declared dead. You're funeral is next week. Strangest part about this is it's 3 years too late. Love you, let me know you're safe. Dani was able to visit today. She’s safe and trying to find a way to the realms. We worked on finding ways to mask her ecto-signature and we’re finally happy with the results. I think she’ll be safe now. Love you. Let me know you’re safe.

Jazz didn’t mention how the study room they’d been practicing in was raided by GIW agents less than twenty minutes after Dani had left.

I’m back in Amity. Your funeral is tomorrow. I hate it here. I hate even more how much it still feels like home. Love you. Let me know you’re safe. They didn’t even show up. Love you. Let me know you’re safe. I miss you so much. I hate how useless I am. I’m not you. I can't build a portal or boo-merang to search for you. You'd better come home soon. Love you, let me know you're safe.

-----

The first thing Jason did upon returning to his Gotham apartment was shower. The second was sleep for a solid eleven hours.

And when he woke up, he made himself a huge breakfast, reveling in the opportunity to put a kitchen through it’s paces for the first time in months.

But the first non-essential thing he did was plug in his phone and turn it on. After months away, his notifications would be insane and he wanted to be rested and full before bothering to skim through the family group chats.

Unsurprisingly, his messaging app showed over two thousand unread texts. What was surprising, however, was that 71 of those were from an unknown number.

He opened that thread first and skimmed the most recent message.

Agent K tried to pull me aside to question me and search my bag twenty minutes before an exam. Asshole almost made me miss it! But I managed to run and got to my classroom just in time. Love you. Let me know you’re safe.

Jason raised an eyebrow and scrolled to the top of the thread. By the time he’d finished reading, his vision was tinted green.

Looked like he wasn’t going to have those relaxing few days before his next big case.

With a sigh he turned on his laptop and searched Amity. All he could find was a generic government website proclaiming it “The Most Haunted Town in America!” Every link on the page was broken when he tried to click it.

He ground his teeth and searched for “GIW” and “Agent K.” Neither yielded any useful results either.

By five o’clock he was nearly ready to scream in frustration and the green wasn’t leaving the edges of his vision. Looks like he was going to need backup.

He stomped out of his apartment, got on his motorcycle, and ignored all speed limits as he rushed through Gotham.

Traffic and noise decreased the further from Gotham proper he got until city streets were replaced by McMansions with their fancy landscaping and long drives.

He continued until he got to B’s home and made his way up the long drive. Though he quickly turned to the smaller path that lead to the kitchen entrance rather than continue up to the main doors.

After cutting the engine, he continued to sit on the bike for a moment as he stared at the door to the kitchen. Was he really going to do this?

He closed his eyes and phrases from the desperate texts filled his mind. With a deep breath he stood up and walked through the door.

As expected half an hour before dinner, Alfred was in the kitchen getting everything ready.

“Master Jason!” he exclaimed. “Give me just a moment.”

Jason watched with a slight smile as Alfred stirred the gravy and lowered the temperature. “Hey, Alfie.”

Alfred made his way towards Jason and pulled him into a hug. “Welcome home, my boy.”

“Got in yesterday. There enough food for one more? Who else is around?”

“There’s always enough food for you. Now, help me stir the vegetables. Masters Bruce, Damian, Duke, and Tim are all home.”

Jason hummed as he got to work helping with the last of dinner prep. “Is the replacement up to anything big right now? I was thinking of asking for his expertise on something.”

Alfred clicked his tongue. “You’ve only just returned from an extended mission. I haven’t even had the chance to check you over for new injuries yet. Can’t you rest for even a day?”

“Come on, Alfie. Don’t you know us better than that by now? No rest for the wicked as they say!”

Alfred gave him a Look. “You are hardly wicked, Master Jason.”

Jason looked back down at the vegetables he was helping with. “I think these are done. And you know I wouldn’t ask Replacement a favor unless it was important.”

“I know you know his name is Timothy,” Alfred said as he passed Jason a bowl. “But he is not working on anything time sensitive at the moment that I know of.”

“And you know everything.”

“Hardly. Now, help me set the table.”

Jason did as instructed and the two fell into an old routine.

Bruce walked into the dining room as they were laying things out. “Jason. When did you get back?”

Jason took a deep breath forced himself to stay relaxed. “Yesterday. Figured I’d grab some of Alfred’s cooking tonight.”

“How did your mission go? Have you filed a report yet?”

God, couldn’t he just ask how Jason was like a normal person?

Alfred stepped in before Jason could snap. “Master Bruce, you know I do not allow shop talk at the dinner table.”

“I’m doing great, B,” he said with fake cheerfulness. “Had the best breakfast this morning and slept amazingly, thanks for asking.”

“Jason—”

“I’m gonna get the last of the dishes from the kitchen, Alfred,” said Jason before Bruce could say anything more.

In the kitchen, Jason leaned over the counter and breathed as he counted to ten. He shouldn’t have come here. Not with the pits so close to the surface after seeing those messages.

But he was bat-trained and he couldn’t leave a mystery alone and he needed someone with better computer and hacking skills than he had. So here he was.

He could do this. It was just dinner then a question.

He grabbed the last two platters of food and returned to the dining room. Duke and Tim had arrived in the meantime.

“Hey, Jason,” greeted Duke.

“Hey, kid. How’s Gotham been treatin’ ya?”

“Same old, same old. Glad to see you’re back and in one piece.”

Jason grinned at him. “The other guys aren’t so lucky.”

Duke laughed. “I’ll bet.”

Tim piled food onto his plate. “You should’ve said you were back. Dick would’ve made the trip out here to join us. Barbara, too, probably.”

“It was a last minute decision. Where’s the demon brat?”

“Here,” said a voice from behind him. “Todd. You appear to be healthy.”

Jason blinked at the kid a few times as Damian walked around him and took his own seat. “Uh… yeah. Thanks. You appear… healthy, too.”

Nonplussed by the lack of aggression, Jason took his own seat and began serving himself as well.

Over dinner, the others filled him in on the major family drama as well as what had happened in Gotham while he’d been gone. Even Bruce seemed to be trying after his initial missteps.

But then they were finishing dessert and Tim got up to leave.

“Hey, Replacement, by the way, can I get your opinion on something? My computer skills don’t seem to be enough to get me the information I need.”

“Really? You’re gonna call me ‘Replacement’ at the same time as you ask for help? Fuck you?”

“Language, Master Tim.”

“Sorry, Alfred.”

“Look, Tim,” Jason corrected himself, “apparently someone contacted me months ago for help and I only just found out because I’ve been gone. It seems to be time-sensitive. Now, I can spend days or weeks more trying to figure this out on my own or you could probably do it in an hour or two.”

And of course Bruce had to butt in. “Who contacted you and what is this case?”

Jason shrugged. “Dunno. Looks like a case of wrong number, actually.

“A wrong number?” That caught Tim’s attention.

Jason hid his grin. Hook, line, and sinker. “Yep. She thinks she’s texting someone named Danny. I’m the one getting the messages.”

Tim sighed. “Fine. Give me a ride back to my place and I’ll see what I can do.”

-----

“What the fuck, Jason.”

Eight hours later and they were both tired and Tim still hadn’t gotten anywhere with his search. But he had fried two computers.

“It’s not supposed to do that, is it?” asked Jason staring at the Lazarus-green screen covered in bright blue gibberish. “Is that color combination even legal?”

“You’re worried about the colors? Dude! This isn’t even code. I don’t even recognize half these symbols!”

The computer let out an awful screeching-wail that had Jason covering his ears. Then it started to smoke and the screen when black. When Tim tried to check out the hardware, it had overheated so badly the plastic casing was melted.

“I think it’s time we try calling this Jazz woman.”

“Yeah. Would it be better to call her as Jason or Red Hood?”

Tim just raised and eyebrow at him and Jason sighed as he opened up his messages and hit call, setting it to speaker phone.

He winced when a woman picked up instantly with a cry of, “Danny!”

“I’m afraid this isn’t Danny,” said Jason.

He counted the seconds until the woman spoke again. Seven. “Please, just delete all the messages. If anyone finds out about them, I’ll be arrested. And the guys in white aren’t gentle with prisoners.”

Tim’s eyebrows rose and Jason bit his cheek to hold back the curses.

“You’ve got the wrong idea. I might not be Danny, but I want to help. You’ve reached Red Hood. I was unconctactable for the last few months while on a mission and I only just saw your messages. Red Robin is with me and we plan to help you and Danny. But we need more information.”

Another pause and then Jazz spoke again. “I’ll need some proof you are who you say you are.”

“Seems reasonable,” agreed Tim. “Give us fifteen minutes to get into costume. We’ll take a selfie. You can even specify the pose and any features you want included. Sound fair?”

“Fine. I want Red Robin to give Red Hood rabbit ears and Red Hood to give Red Robin Moose antlers."

Jason groaned. “Seriously? Can’t it be literally anything else?”

“Nope. I want to be sure you’re not just stealing something off the internet. I’ll also be doing a reverse image search on whatever picture you send, just to confirm.”

Tim laughed, the asshole. “Smart. We’ll send the photos soon as we’re changed and in position.”

“Very good. I’ll also have some questions for you, you understand. My record with those associated with the government has not been very good. Which is why my brother, his friends, and I never contacted the Justice League.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t associate with the government then, isn’t it?” asked Jason.

“That’s the only reason I’m even considering telling you the truth, Mr. Hood.”

-----

It ended up being half an hour before they could both get in uniform and agree on a spot where they could take the pictures. Jason finally convinced Tim they should pose next to his favorite grotesque and the pictures were sent off.

Five minutes later, his phone range.

“Cute gargoyle,” said Jazz before they could even get out a greeting.

“It’s a grotesque, actually,” corrected Jason on autopilot. He could feel Tim’s eye roll even with the mask.

"Why can't I access anything from the town of Amity or find any information on the GIW you mentioned? I fried three computers trying to track down information. Literally. Had to disable the smoke detectors."

Now it was Jason's turn to roll his eyes. Tim always got so intense when it came to research.

“You certainly don’t waste time. But before I answer your questions, I need to ask my own.”

Tim frowned, but there was no sign of frustration in his voice when he spoke. “Of course. What do you need to know?”

“What do you know about ghosts?”

“One of my teammates is a ghost,” said Tim.

“And there’s another one who works with Justice League Dark,” added Jason.

A pause, then a surprised, “Really? I didn’t know that.” She hummed and Jason wished he could see her face to see what she was thinking. “Do you know about the Anti-Ecto Acts?”

“The what?” asked Tim even as he started typing into his watch. “Wait, if I search for this, will my device burst into flames?”

For the first time, Jazz laughed in genuine amusement and Jason felt he was getting a glimpse into who she really was. The sound pushed the green back from the back of his head and his breath seemed to come a little easier.

“No, the acts are fine. Here, I’ve got the code number.”

Tim searched the number Jazz related. Thirty seconds after pulling it up, he let out a low whistle. “What the fuck. The League has no idea these laws exist. I can promise you that. Martian Manhunter and all Lanterns would leave immediately.”

“What’s it say?” demanded Jason, trying to read the tiny screen over Tim’s shoulder.

“These Ectoplasm Dependent Entities, are they the ghosts you mentioned?”

“Yes. More specifically, the ghosts referred to are sapient creatures from a parallel dimension called the Infinite Realms by its residents and the Ghost Zone by some humans. Ectoplasm, and this is an oversimplification to the point of being incorrect, is required by ghosts the way living creatures on Earth need carbon. Hood, the Anti-Ecto Acts declare all Realm Ghosts as non-sapient, excluding them from the Meta Protection Acts. It also states that they are to be turned over the to Guys in White, more formally known as the Ghost Investigation Ward and abbreviated to GIW, for experimentation and elimination.”

“Well shit. And I assume Danny is targeted by this group?”

“Got it in one.”

A chill went down Jason’s spine. “That’s what you meant by his funeral being three years too late.”

She sighed, all hints of laugher gone and Jason wished he could bring it back. “My brother is different. I won’t tell you more than that. He’s still alive, though. Or at least he was when he escaped the Guys in White about three months ago.”

Jason and Tim exchanged glances. She was definitely holding a lot back. So Jason decided to change tactics. “You mentioned another Dani, too. With an i?”

“She’s my brother’s clone. We consider her our little sister, but our parents don’t know about her. We haven’t been able to provide a stable home for her and she loves to travel and is more than capable of protecting herself, so we just keep in contact and hope she’ll come when she needs help.”

Tim perked at the word clone. “We can offer her safety,” he promised. “One of my teammates and best friends is a clone.”

Jazz hummed. “I'll let her know the next time she reaches out. No promises, though. She's even less trustful than I am.”

Jason took deep breaths. “How old are you, your brother, and sister?” She sounded young and had mentioned college many times in her messages.

Jazz hesitated. “We’re all teenagers. Dani was created three years ago, but was aged up.”

Jason spun and kicked the wall hard. Tim caught his arm to keep him from overbalancing. “Okay. Of course you are. Because adults can’t help but force children into roles they should never have to take.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Bit hypocritical of you to say that.”

“Yeah, well, look where it got me,” Jason retorted, voice a growl.

“I feel like I’m missing some context,” said Jazz.

“It’s nothing,” said Jason. “I just hate when adults put kids in danger or don’t help them get out of danger.” And it was definitely time to change the subject. “You mentioned two other people? A Tucker and Sam? Do they need help?”

“They’re not in danger like the Dannies. But the Guys in White suspect the three of us of collaborating with ghosts and are keeping a close eye on us. Our main phones are tapped and any messages we send will be read and all calls recorded. The instant they have proof we’ve assisted or plan to assist ghosts, we’ll be arrested and detained.”

“What can I do to access information on these Guys in White and Amity?” asked Tim.

“You need a computer that’s ectoplasm-compatible. I don’t have a spare, but Tucker would. He’s at a tech school in San Francisco.”

“What’s that mean, ectoplasm-compatible?” Tim was still typing away at his watch and Jason was jealous of his ability to read and listen at the same time.

“Tucker can explain it better than I can. But basically, things from our world don't work around ectoplasm. It gives off it's own form of energy and our gadgets, and bodies, can't handle it. But if something is exposed to low quantities over a long period of time, they begin to change. The ectoplasm is incorporated. This allows the device to display video and pictures of ghosts. Computers that are not ecto-compatible can't even connect to ones that are. An ecto-compatible computer, on the other hand, can access information from a non-compatible one.”

Jason couldn’t help but latch onto one specific word. “What do you mean bodies? Can humans become ecto-compatible?” The idea sent a shiver down Jason’s spine for reasons he couldn’t quite name.

“It’s complicated. Ectoplasm is dangerous for humans. Really dangerous. My brother and friends and I have done some research on how it interacts with living matter from this dimension and… Well, its far too complicated to discuss over the phone with people I don’t know if I should trust and who don’t have the requisite background knowledge to understand it anyway.”

Tim hummed in a way Jason knew meant he wasn’t satisfied and wouldn’t rest until he got all the information he could. “Would Tucker be willing to sell me an ecto-compatible computer if I reach out to him? How much would he want for it?”

Jazz laughed, but this time there wasn’t any happiness in it. “If you’re really going to help Danny, he’d give it to you for free. And if you can get him to trust you, he’ll show you all the backdoors he’s made into the Guys in White’s servers.”

“Fantastic. How can I contact him?”

Jason let them talk specifics as he stared out over the city. Not even twenty-four hours home and he was right back in the thick of things. When it seemed like Tim and Jazz were wrapping things up, he added, “I’d like to speak to you in person.”

“I’m in Boston,” she said with a laugh.

Jason made the calculations, adding time for a ninety minute nap. “I can be there in seven hours.”

“I’ve class in seven hours.” She sighed. “But I’ll text you a time and place. I need to make sure I get somewhere the Agents following me won’t be able to find right away.”

“I can go in civvies,” offered Jason. “I’ve more than a few fake IDs. Might be easier to hide what we’re talking about.”

She hummed in consideration. “I’ll let you know. I have your number after all.”

“That you do. I’ll head your way sooner than later so I’m at least close by when you manage your escape.”

“Very well. Then I suppose I’ll be seeing you soon. Will you both come to Boston or are you going to Tucker first, Red Robin?”

“I’m going to go to Tucker. I need that computer and access to the relevant information. Then we can start to plan. Before Red Hood leaves, I’ll make a few communicators so you can contact us on a secure line. And I’ll give one to Tucker, too. At least then you’ll be able to talk to each other.”

“Thank you.” Jazz’s voice was quiet and filled with emotion. It made Jason’s heart clench. No way was she faking that. But she gathered herself and her voice was strong again when next she spoke. “And Gentlemen?”

“Yeah?” asked Jason.

“If it turns out I was wrong to trust you? Your bodies will never be found. My friends and I have been keeping Amity safe from ghosts and ghost hunters alike for the past three years on our own. We have access to resources you can't even imagine. And if we are no longer held back by the fear of putting both Dannies in more danger, well, we can do a lot of damage."

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Jason. “You can trust us.”

“I hope you’re not lying,” she said before disconnecting the call.

Jason let out a whistle. “I like her.”

Tim huffed a laugh. “Of course you do. You know, this could only happen to us. What are the chances of a wrong number text reaching one of us?”

-----

Far away, in a tower in another dimension, a being smiled. His appearance changed from child to middle aged to elderly and back as he watched the lives of many on the mirrors that covered every surface of his home.

“Just a little longer, my Prince,” he said as the threads of time wove a pattern that glowed just a little bit brighter.

----------

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#dpxdc #answer my call #wrong number au #anger management ship #my writing #edited first chapter #ao3 link

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frickingnerd · 8 months

Text

words that never reached you

pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

summary: after failing the license exam, you want to give up on being a hero. but bakugou believes there's still one reason for you to stay at UA...

tags: bakugou crushing on you, hurt/comfort, angst, confession

you had failed as a hero.

after training so hard, you failed the license exam. this was it, the end of your career as a hero, before it even had begun. maybe you weren't made for this. maybe your quirk didn't work for a hero. maybe you should've tried your luck as a member of the support faculty. maybe you would have succeeded there. but now it was too late to change things. without a license, you couldn't continue to attend UA. you'd never be able to take part in an internship without a license and you'd always be left behind. you'd always be the one out of class 1A who failed to obtain her license…

while the other students were celebrating their victories, unaware that you had failed to obtain your hero license, you were alone in your dorm room, packing your things. if you'd hurry up, maybe you could finish packing everything by tonight and have your parents pick you up, before anyone even realizes you were gone.

though there was a certain hotheaded blonde boy that you didn't factor into the equation, who showed up at your room unannounced…

"oi, dumbass! come outside, i wanna see ya!"

you froze as you heard bakugou's voice. immediately, you started to worry that he had figured out why you weren't celebrating with everyone else. that you were just lying to your friends when you told them you got your hero license.

"i-i'm coming…!"

you didn't let bakugou wait too long. you didn't want him to start suspecting anything, if he didn't already know what was going on. and you certainly didn't want him to open the door and see all your stuff in boxes. so, you quickly opened the door and slipped outside into hall in one swift motion, giving bakugou no time to catch a glimpse of your room.

"why aren't you with the others? you should celebrate that you finally got that license! you're a real hero now~!"

bakugou said exactly what you didn't want to hear. you weren't a hero, far from it! you were just a failure who couldn't even be honest with their friends.

"i don't feel like it, i'm sleepy… can i go back to bed now?"

bakugou's eyes were glued to your face, inspecting you closely. with every second you just stood here, having to think about what a failure you were, you started to get closer and closer to crying. and bakugou noticed it too.

"don't fucking lie to me…" he mumbled softly. "what's wrong? you can talk to me!"

you couldn't hold it together anymore. knowing that the usually rough and blunt bakugou was now being so kind and soft with you, when you didn't even deserve it. tears started rolling down your cheeks, as bakugou gently wiped them away.

"i failed the license exam! i didn't make it! i'm not a hero and i never will be…"

you sobbed quietly, breaking bakugou's heart as all he could do was just stand there and watch, knowing he couldn't do anything to cheer you up. even as he spoke up to comfort you, he knew his words wouldn't reach you.

"this isn't the end, y/n! you can just re-do the exam next year! or you'll ask if they got any extra classes you could take! surely there has to be some way…"

"i'll always be a step behind! i'll never be able to catch up to someone as great as you. i will always just stay a mediocre hero if i continue staying at UA…"

bakugou stopped. the way you were wording this, it sounded an awful lot like you didn't plan on sticking around until the next semester.

"dumbass, don't tell me you're actually planning to leave? are you fucking stupid or what? this is your dream! you said you always wanted to be a hero, so you can't give up now! no matter how long it takes, you gotta keep going!"

you sobbed quietly. you knew bakugou was right. of course he was right! you were a failure and a coward, who wanted to run away when things got hard.

"without the hero license, i might be forced to repeat the entire school year. i'll have to start at zero again and without my friends by my side! without all of you, i won't be able to make it. there's no reason for me to stay…"

bakugou could only watch as you rushed back into your dorm room, locking the door behind you. he didn't attempt to open the door, even if he could've easily broken it down. instead, he rested his head against the door, as he spoke up again.

"what about love?"

he said quietly, unsure if his words even reached you.

"i know the timing is bad, but perhaps if i had made clear how important you are to me, maybe you'd realize that this is where you belong. and then you wouldn't have to go. because you'd know how in love i am with you…"

you didn't reply. perhaps you didn't even hear him. the thought of him pouring his heart out to you without you even hearing him made bakugou angry, causing him to raise his voice.

"you're good enough, dumbass! you're good enough for this school! and you're good enough for me! i think you're a great hero already! it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, i think you're the greatest hero ever! so please, open the door and talk to me!"

still, nothing. the thought of what might happen behind that door was killing him. you were probably curled up on your bed and crying and he wouldn't be able to comfort you!

"please…"

bakugou sighed softly, his forehead leaning against the door as he closed his eyes.

"if you can hear me, let me just say how much i want you to stay…"

bakugou waited. but he didn't get an answer…

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siriusleee · 8 months

Text

Like Blood on Iron | Part 6

Historical Executioner AU Summary: The executioner has always been an enigma to you - drawing you in. His sword drawing a line in the dirt as he made his way to the village center, and leaving back to his cottage on the outskirts of town. However, your curiosity can't stop the future your family has planned for you.

A/N: I am actually sorry to the anon who asked me weeks ago if this Jonathan is Jonathan Price and I said no. I lied. I couldn't show my hand to fast.

If you liked this chapter or story please consider donating to my ko-fi. I am super broke and writing is like my second job.

You can also request a custom, just for you fic there. I will not be adding any additional tags to my tag list. Please turn on notifications for my blog or follow on Ko-Fi. find the other chapters here on my masterlist

You don't bring up running away with Simon again. You think about it, each night sitting in his cabin, the nights you spend beside him, fingers memorizing the hills and valleys of his body. It eats at you - the complete knowledge that if you were to leave alone, you would leave him behind. You're not sure what would be worse: a life without him or a life with him always on the fringes.

You almost bring it up again, just once. Lily had cooked too many sticky buns, something you'd found out Simon was completely susceptible to. There was a sneaking suspicion that she was doing it on purpose - you knew that she was smart enough to put it together: the cloak you'd returned, and all the nights you spent away. Watching him suck the syrup from his fingers, the question tumbled out of you - one you'd been thinking of for weeks.

"You can get married can't you? The last executioner was."

Simon froze, finger still poised in his mouth. His gaze kept you pinned to your seat as he thought about his answer.

"We cannot marry once we've been sentenced. However, if we were married previously, we stay married."

You had wanted to push the question further.

Would you marry me?

But you didn't ask it, instead keeping it close to yourself.

There was no good answer, and you knew whatever it was he said would break you anyway. So you keep the fantasies to yourself: of the two of you running away, of Simon being the one to wait for you at the end of the aisle. Even if it meant Mother and Father never speaking to you again, you would give it up for him. But you know what he would say, so you keep it to yourself.

You know you need to tell him when Jonathan is coming home, so you do. Curled up into the small of Simon's back, you whisper the words, mouth nearly pressed against his spine. It's a subtle shift, the way Simon tenses at the words, but you feel it nonetheless.

"He'll be back in the port tomorrow."

Simon swallows heavy in the silence.

"I hope he arrives in one piece."

He doesn't roll over to face you while the two of you speak, and you don't want him to. You couldn't take the look on his face, you know it.

"I'm sure he will. He's not new to sailing."

"I suppose you'll be staying home tomorrow night - to spend some time with him."

His voice clenches at your heart; absentmindedly you trace patterns on his back, fingers stuttering on the scars that litter him. Your favorite - one that's shaped vaguely like Orion, you trace, feeling the way Simon shutters at the feeling. It takes nearly a full minute for you to speak around the knot in your throat.

"I will have to stay late at home, yes. But I can come here after."

Simon shakes his head, the bed shaking beneath the two of you with the movement.

"He is your fiance; you should spend some time with him."

You can't think of anything you want to do less, but you know he's right, and you know he won't let you do otherwise. So you slip your hands around him, pulling him so that your chest is pressed tightly against his back, and let his breathing lull you to sleep.

He wakes you up earlier than usual to go home the next day.

When you step through the front door of your home, it's still dark outside. The faint sounds of the house sleeping greet you along with the smell of a long extinguished fire. Upstairs it's chilly, your feet freezing almost immediately against the wooden floor. Your first stop is to peek in at Maggie and Lily, each curled up against each other.

Your second is to clean up, to prepare for the day.

By the time everyone is awake, you've done your best to get some sort of breakfast ready. Or at least prepared enough that Maggie and Lily can take over.

"You look horrible," Maggie says, pulling the toast from the fire. Her eyes are dark moons against her skin, her hair still tangled.

"Thank you Maggie, I really appreciate it." Your sarcasm falls flat - she must notice, must know why because she doesn't have a retort for the first time.

"Are you excited?" She asks, pulling an apron around her waist to keep her skirt clean. You pretend to pick the dirt that isn't there from beneath your fingers so that you don't have to meet her pinpoint gaze.

You decide, after fiddling with your thumb for long enough, that there is no reason to lie to her.

"Not in the least bit."

Lily keeps her eyes downcast at the dough she forms roughly - dough for dinner tonight. You know the serving girl will be here later to help with it. Nothing can be spared for Jonathan's arrival. Jonathan who you will march towards in a month. Jonathan who had to know about Uncle Henry, and who couldn't do anything from halfway across the world.

"It could be worse you know, he-"

"Shut up Maggie."

Your words cut through the kitchen; around you the ambient temperature drops. Lily's hands still in her task, but she still doesn't look up at the two of you. Maggie turns to face you with a stiffness that could only be inherited from Mother.

"What did you say to me?" There's fire burning in her eyes, but today you don't care.

"I said shut up," your voice quavers, "you get to marry the man you want. You got a choice in your own life. You want to be a wife and mother. I want differently. I want to travel the world with the man I love, and I can't. So please, just fucking drop it Maggie."

Your eyes plead with her - don't rub in today. Just leave it be.

You don't know if it's the look you give her, or if she finally developed the ability to feel sympathy, but she drops it.

When breakfast is ready, you skip it. Your feet pull you heavily up the stairs and to your bed. Even with the sleep you got the night before, warmed by Simon and held tightly to his side, you crawl into bed, flinching at the cold that attacks you.

You force yourself to sleep.

For the first time in a long time, you have a bad dream.

It is Simon waiting for you at the altar, usually worn out black attire swapped for something new and clean. The flower lined path between the two of you is long, and it seems as if no matter how many steps you take, you can't get any closer. Eventually you start to grow frustrated.

A movement on your right startles you, and you realize your arm is linked with your Father's. He should be walking you towards Simon, but instead he's steadfast. He doesn't look at you; his sight is death upon Simon. When you try to pull your arm away from him, he keeps you glued to your side.

At the altar, Simon's face starts to warp and shift into something more dangerous. He grows almost skeletal, skin paling.

Behind him, the glint of a sword.

You recognize the hit, the cross so delicately affixed on the end. It's his own sword, the one assigned to him when he became the executioner. You try to shout for him, but your Father keeps his iron grip on you - you're too far away for Simon to hear your yell.

When the iron meets blood you wake up.

Your mouth is coated in copper and iron; you've bitten your tongue in your sleep. Between the slots in the shutter, you can tell the sun has shifted drastically. The smell of a roast drifts up to you; at the end of the bed a heavy gown, light blue and new to you, is laid across the foot of the bed. It's an obvious message from Mother on what to wear for the night.

Your legs are lead; trying to stand makes you dizzy and the blood in your mouth makes you want to vomit. The wavy mirror across the room winks at you, projecting back the ragged version of yourself. You frown at it, fingers rubbing your eyes to try to get the haggard look off of your face. But it's futile.

The dress is like water between your fingers; you can only imagine how much it must have cost Mother and Father - how much wasted money trying to impress someone who already agreed to marry you.

The dress is light against your skin - laces pulled tight in the front to keep the neckline from slipping down to low.

You hate blue.

Your favorite color had been red - the red that only showed on the horizon when the sun was setting late in the summer. The red of the berries you and Lily could find in the early fall. But once, you'd arrived at Simon's when he wasn't expecting you; when he answered the door he had a dirty tunic you'd never seen before: forest green and loose around him.

The sight of him in something other than black had changed your entire perspective on the idea of colors.

You know that your face still looks terrible when you arrive downstairs, but everyone has the good graces not to say anything. Instead, they skirt around you - a ghost they’re tired of seeing. Father walks past, boots so freshly shined that you’re sure if you bend down and look, you could see your reflection in them. His waistcoat is looser than you remember it being; you can’t remember the last time he ate a complete dinner.

Maggie’s at the door with Edward; his hand lingers at the small of her back. The sight of them makes you want to hurl - it’s not fair. It’s not -

“Hello.”

Soft air tickles the shell of your ear, causing you to jump and stumble into the wall. A warm, rough hand wraps around your elbow, pulling you away from crashing.

The corner of Jonathan’s eyes crinkle up at you, the corner of his mouth turning up as he looks down at you. The smell of the sea waves off of him: coarse salt and sunshine, blue waves rolling beneath the smooth deck.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, straightening you back up. He must feel how your muscles tense beneath his hand because he drops you, your skin tight where he touched you.

“I just wasn’t expecting you,” it’s the truth, and you don’t need to force yourself to sound pleasant because of it.

“I arrived early, but your little sister said you were sick and asleep,” he holds his hands behind his back as he speaks, spine ramrod straight and the stance reminds you so much of Simon that your stomach aches.

“I was sick earlier, but I feel fine now.”

“You don’t look fine.”

His golden brown mustache twitches when you shoot him a look of venom before you can stop yourself.

"Don't you think that's a rather rude statement to say to a lady you've barely spoken to."

"It would be rude," Jonathan starts, cutting off to nod and Maggie and Edward as they skirt past the two of you to duck into the dining room, "if I lied to you."

"Is that so? I suppose that's some sort of moral code you live by."

Your tone is piercing, but Jonathan doesn't seem to mind. You don't break your stare away from his eyes, surrounded by weatherbeaten wrinkles. The product of months spent burning in the intense sea sun. He steps half a step closer to you, mouth opened to retort, but is cut off by Father.

"Everyone come!"

The sound of chairs scraping on the floor fills the house, but you don't move. Jonathan stays in place beside you, arms crossed over his chest as he stares into the dining room. The silence stretches out across the two of you until Father yells at the two of you again. Jonathan gestures for you to go first, he follows so close behind you that you can feel him just at the hem of your dress.

You can tell by the furtive looks that everyone sends you throughout dinner that they're waiting on you to explode and run away again. Everyone but Jonathan, who chats happily with Edward and teases Lily, her small smile shining in the otherwise oppressive room. But the time crawls, and by the time Maggie and Edward stand to excuse themselves from the barren plates in front of them, you're exhausted.

You want to excuse yourself back to bed, and you think you might when Father leans back in his own chair, hands clasped tightly in his lap, and speaks to Jonathan.

"Jonathan I believe my daughter could use some fresh air; her complexion is terrible. Do you mind accompanying her?"

"No Father," you try to deflect, pushing yourself away from the table, "I'm sure Jonathan wants to get home. He must be exhausted."

Across the table, Jonathan studies you with a look you can't fathom. You try to beg him with your eyes to say no to decline the offer, but he doesn't.

"Nonsense," Father says, hand digging into his pocket for his tobacco, "you have a wedding in three weeks and the two of you barely know each other. Go."

His words leave a ringing in your ears; you find yourself moving like a wind up doll, following Jonathan to the door. You flinch away from him when he tries to settle your cloak across your shoulders, but he pulls away, and you take the strings from him.

The darkness is oppressive outside; fog rolls in heavy and pregnant from the sea. The last few villagers skirt around, attempting to avoid the rain that threatens to fall from above. Jonathan sets a leisurely pace, steering the two of you away from the town center. The silence stretches between the two of you, the only sound is the two of your feet against the hard packed dirt.

He steers you towards the pier, his ship bobbing in the distance. The lanterns scurry around the deck, but you can't make out the faces of the men carrying them.

"Where is it you want to sail first?" Jonathan's voice cuts through the wind rolling off of the waves. He keeps a distance between the two of you.

"What?"

"Where do you want to sail first? You are in charge of our path?"

You can't help the mirthless laugh that escapes you, hands clenched so tightly together beneath your cloak that you're losing sensation in your fingertips.

"I am in charge of no path Jonathan. Let's not make a pretense of this entire thing."

He shuffles his feet, boots carving the soft loam beneath the two of you.

"Is that how you feel?"

"It's not how I feel, Jonathan. It's the truth. We can labor under whatever pretense we want, but it's the truth."

You watch his hand come towards you from the corner of your eye, but it barely skirts the curve of your shoulder.

"Is there - is there someone else?"

You can feel his warmth through all the layers of your clothing; it's dangerous you know, to tell him the truth. To betray the secret happiness you and Simon have, but you're so tired of pretending to be someone else. Of pretending that there is nothing between you and Simon. So for once, you let the truth fall from you.

"Yes. There is."

You expect his hand to turn heavy, to dig into the sensitive skin of your shoulder and dash you across the ground. But if anything his hold growls more gently as he steps towards you, chest nearly touching your arm.

"Why don't you refuse - tell your Father you won't marry me. And marry him instead?"

"You're naive," you shrug his hand off, "if you think I have a choice. My Father settled on you, and that is what I have to do. I have no rights except the right to my home, which has to be provided to me by a man."

"And so you are stuck."

His mouth turns down as he speaks, fingers dipping into the neckline of his shirt. He pulls out a flash of a medal, and you recognize it from the one that dangles above you from Simon's neck.

"Let me guess," you cut him off, "you're going to tell me how much you relate to me. How the King and his military took all the choices you had once."

"How did you know?" He asks, letting the cross fall to dangle on his chest.

"You aren't the first person to ever tell me that."

"Was he wrong?"

You think of Simon telling you the same thing, think of the way he's been regulated to his position because of a mistake supposedly made on the battlefield. Of the way the both of you are trapped here under someone else's bootheel.

"He was right, in a way."

You pull yourself away from the image of the ocean, Jonathan following you faithfully. Your feet find the hidden path you and Simon used to walk when he was still Ghost to you.

"I don't suppose," you ask, rounding the farthest house and turning back towards home, "that you are so kind and noble that knowing I belong to someone else, you will tell my Father that you don't wish to marry me anymore."

Jonathan chuckles, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

"You don't think that you could grow to love me?"

You measure your words out with the beat of your steps.

"Perhaps in another life, Jonathan."

He doesn't answer your question. The last of the shutters close around the two of you as he walks you home, cloaks swishing over the dirt and cobblestones. Fat, heavy rain drops start to fall, you pull the hood of your cloak up to protect your hair. When the rain starts to fall harder, Jonathan follows suit.

At your front gate, you go to push past him and leave him at the latch, but Jonathan reaches out to stop you. His eyes shine at you from the darkness of his hood as he holds you still, one arm on each elbow.

"For what it's all worth: I am sorry."

You think, as he leans down, that he's going to kiss you, and the thought makes your stomach drop. But instead he presses a single, chaste kiss to your cheek before pulling away. Your skin tingles from where his beard touched your sensitive skin.

The rain starts to fall in a heavy sheet as he brushes past you, back towards where his ship is docked. You're stuck, fingernails digging into the wood of the front gate, and you think you might throw up from the feeling of the world rushing beneath your feet.

It's not until you lift your head, trying to unstick your feet from where you're frozen to the ground, that you catch sight of the looming figure down the street.

tag list: @silverianni, @milfs4lifee, @koi-feish, @shirabeastly, @pookie90, @ghostlythot, @hearts4sky, @crystallizedtime, @the-worlds-tempest, @myconglomerateromance, @elena-ph, @chaoticgoblindev, @pipocfamily, @canadianmilkbag, @caspertheassholeghost, @2512121morningstar, @glitterypirateduck, @elli0t3r, @clairdelunelove, @captainprice4life, @generaldestinychild, @crowsjourney, @c0pernicus, @wistfullyhypomanic, @arbesa-mind, @ray-rook, @daisyfrubies, @september-22-1996

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #my fics #ghost cod #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #ghost call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty mwii #like blood on iron

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demetris-cocksleeve · 1 year

Note

Can I request yandere Simeon with an oblivious reader?

(A/n: I'm still new to writing yandere stuff, so forgive if it's not the best 😅)

Word Count: 494

Summary: You're just too innocent for your own good...

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, Simeon in his villain era

Age Rating: None

Yandere! Simeon x Oblivious! GN! Reader

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

'There he goes. Thinking he can weasel his way into their pants. Not if I can help it. Why can't they get it through their thick skulls that Y/n belongs to me?'

Simeon sits on the other side of the classroom, watching as a lower demon leans against your desk with a greasy smirk, probably throwing dumb one liners your way.

To say he's furious would be an understatement. Not at you. No, he could never be mad at you, his sweet, impressionable darling. No, his anger is aimed at the vermin that thinks he can speak to you.

He watches as you smile at something the demon says. You probably think he's just being friendly, but Simeon knows what he's really doing. He knows that he just wants to butter you up so he can use and then leave you in the dust.

He breaks when the demon fixes a lock of your hair, standing up and striding over to you. Coming up behind you, the demon sees him first -sees the murderous glare aimed at him.

You turn to see what he's looking at and Simeon quickly puts on an ever-friendly smile.

"HI Simeon!" You chirp in that sugary sweet voice of yours.

"Hey! So, I was thinking of stopping by Madam Scream's after class; Care to join me? It'd be on me of course~"

"Free food? Count me in!" You turn to the scum that has the nerve to still be here, "Do you wanna tag along? It's been fun chatting!"

Simeon takes a step forward as he levels him with another glare. "I don't think he wants to. Do you?"

The demon can hear the hidden threat if the way he gulps is any indicator. He may be an angel, but Simeon knows he can be scary. Just like he knows the demon knows better than to test an Archangel, much less challenge one.

"N-no- Sorry Y/n, I've got something to do..."

Simeon keeps his glare on the demon, though he knows your face drops. He hates it when you're upset and would do anything to keep you from being it. Anything but let another get close, that is. He's the only one you need; he's made sure of that.

He's perfected being a chameleon. Perfected the art of molding himself to be anything and anyone you could need. From a study partner to a gaming buddy, from a friend to a lover, from a shoulder to cry on to a protector. Heavy emphasis on the last one -even if you don't know you need it.

"Oh..." You only take a second to perk back up. "That's okay! Maybe next time, then?"

He keeps his eyes on Simeon as he answers, "Maybe... I gotta go. Bye Y/n."

He scurries away just as the bell rings.

Simeon pasters another smile on as he turns back to you, a real one this time. "Let's go get those treats, hm?"

#obey me simeon #simeon x reader #obey me simeon x reader #yandere simeon #yandere obey me #obey me x #obey me x reader

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sin-sidejob · 1 year

Text

Inside Job — New Years

warnings: NSFW, minors DNI, 18+, mentions of sex, allusions to sex, heavy petting, makeout, mentions of alcohol and food, limited consumption of alcohol and or food, genderless reader, gender-neutral pronouns and pet names, mentions of family.

contents: pretty mild considering my other work but tagged adult for safety. cute kissing and making out with your faves, their new or old holiday traditions, mentions of food and drinks and holiday fun. Happy New Year drama free and fillied with fun. Hope y'all enjoy!

a/n: Happy New Years!! From me and the shadow board to you all!! 💖

Brett Hand

the two of you manage to tuck into the corner of the bar you were celebrating in, Brett wanting to join in on the tradition you had with your friends of celebrating out on the town for New Year's and having fun with the family you've found and enjoying the moments and the hijinks that nearly always tend to ensue.

Brett, for some reason, keeps thinking that your friends don't like him when they've threatened you with either stealing him away should you ever hurt him or break his heart or just outright trading you out for Brett. You can't say you're upset, you'd say the same thing. You love this man.

"Thank you for letting me come along!" He exclaims over the music and the noise, bringing you a refill from the bar of the drink you had, making sure to take your drinks and cover them whenever you stepped away or had to use the restroom, taking a sip to assure you they were safe even though you trusted him with your life and told him so, constantly, "I'm having a lot of fun, your friends are kinda' great."

"Funny, they're saying the same about you honey," you murmur in his ear, taking the opportunity to talk low and drape yourself across him like velvet in the cadence of the atmosphere, "telling me everything I already know about, like how wonderful you are, how charming and sweet you can be. How handsome and smart you are," you carry on, littering kisses on the underside of his jaw, uncaring for anyone who manages to see.

"My Brett."

"Your Brett?" he laughs, hesitant and a little nervous, surprised at how affected he is by that statement on your lips. He feels you nod against him as you drape the hand holding your drink over his shoulder while you press your forehead against his neck. "Mhm, they keep threatin' to replace me with you should I treat you wrong."

"Really?"

You nod in response against him, not noting the awe and surprise in his tone and how taken aback he is, always forgetting how your boy is so easily swayed by himself into thinking he's lesser when in reality, he's everything and more. The countdown begins, and quickly you're joined by your friends all gathering around to yell along with the ball drop and for the new year to begin, meanwhile you can't be bothered and have been unable to look away from Brett since the moment you laid eyes on him this morning in bed.

"Absolutely. Wanna' show off and be my kiss at midnight?" and Brett nods enthusiastically in response, taking the drink from your hand and downing it on one, very frat-like, go and bringing you back close to tell you how much he loves you between the both of you. He kisses you into the New Year and manages to do it for the rest of them, and they always feel just the same. Otherworldly.

JR Scheimpough

you celebrate New Year's at a party the two of you were invited to, dressing to the nine's and going out to dinner beforehand at some restaurant that was probably already booked out for weeks, if not months, and yet getting let in with ease from barely any effort from JR. Show off. After dinner, the two of you take a ride and head up to the party from the invitation, a top-floor party at some politician or CEO's place, a big band in full swing with an open bar. It's a black-tie event and you're glad you planned accordingly because you still both look more expensive than the rest do altogether. The two of you manage to sneak a few messy kisses in the elevator before you arrived on the floor, being able to fix his hair after nearly ruining it just before the doors open. If it's noticeable that he's flushed and his lips are puffy, no one comments on it.

after the usual schmoozing and small talk, the both of you sneak away to a balcony overlooking the D.C. spread, wind merciful and not being as cold as it could be in the night. JR comes back after refilling your drink to find you draped over the balcony and admiring the view before he joins you, commenting something coy in your ear and getting you to giggle before he hands you your drink and you both cheer, something murmured about great company and another year down, another to go as you clink your glasses together and drink in celebration.

After sipping away at the sparkling drink within the crystal flutes, he sets them both aside so he can take you in his arms and hold onto you while swaying to the music playing from indoors, Life Is but a Dream by The Harptones crooning low as you get swept up into JR's strong, steady arms and get spun out then brought back to his chest, your arms sidling around his neck as you play with the short hairs at the nape.

The song slows to something more melodious and lilting, Chopin if you had to guess, and listen to the countdown begin. He keeps you calm and grounded as the cheering picks up in volume, a large hand encompassing your hip locking you in the moment and not letting you get swept up away in the current of it all.

You get to soak up the moment with him, feel strong arms wrap around your waist as he makes you forget everyone else around you both, the countdown from the next room, and the fireworks nearly a city away firing off in the distance. All you can feel is him and his touch, the brush of his nose against your pulse as he hums the notes of songs that play softly against your skin, inhaling your perfumed scent as you sway chest to chest, wholly enveloped with each other rather than anyone else. You start the new year off right, with each other, and it's better than any other year you've had already.

Your gloved hand grasps his chin and lifts his head up to hover near yours, watching his eyes blink open and lid half-shut, peering down at you with a concoction of adoration and lust pooling in dark eyes. Counting down, you murmur the digits in the space between you both, telling him happy new year just before you kiss him and the new year begins, the old one still close by as you let him make you forget about it all.

He’s your New Year's kiss and every resolution you could make.

Alpha Beta Robotus

It's his first New Year beyond being locked up in the basement or left in tube-based solitary confinement. With that in mind and you making sure you take him home with you, not letting anyone have the mere idea of stopping you and your plan for the midnight countdown, you've set yourself on a mission to start the new year with him. And you intend on making it a good one.

"You've got mistletoe?" Alpha Beta stares quizzically up at the plant you've managed to hang high on your ceiling above the doorway to your kitchen between the hallway where you both now stand, "Isn't that a little excessive?"

"Only if you suddenly have lost interest and are letting me know that I've now got to find someone else to supply my kisses up to the New Year." You shoot back, looking up at him with a shit-eating grin he is tempted to kiss off, now that you've mentioned it, standing in your fuzzy socks upon the hardwood waiting for the sitcom-loving robotic bastard to just kiss you already.

While you're contemplating on whether to tug him in by the lapels or by his hair, Alpha Beta leans down and cups your cheek before kissing you tenderly, softly, with all the grace and poise of a noir heartthrob in one of those films you see off the classic movie channel. "No, I don't think I've lost any interest."

"That's sweet and all, but I'm afraid you'll just have to remind me, thoroughly." you murmur, eyes darting between his and then back down to his mouth, returning to glance up into glacier eyes just before he tugs you closer with a strong arm around your waist as he presses his lips to yours once more. He's picked up humming as he kisses you, another trait he's mirrored and adopted over time, and it feels better knowing that Alpha Beta's kissed you so many times he can't help but mirror it back to you.

By the time the countdown nears, he's got you spread and sidled on his lap, thighs encasing his as his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your pants and over your underwear, teasing you in strokes that match the tempo of the countdown and leave you keening against him impatiently. He tuts and chides at the show you're putting on and just as the countdown ends and the new year begins, you tug him into a kiss by his hair and he groans low, jaw clicking mechanically as his eyes glow a fraction before shutting.

Alpha Beta's hand finally begins to play with you properly and by the time you breach for air, you're dazed and beaming, already looking fucked out as you keep him close by his half-undone tie and grin.

"Happy New Year, AB, now fuck me until I forget it."

Gigi Thompson

She doesn't get a lot of solid downtime to spend with friends or family, so when she gets to enjoy herself and hang out with her loved ones, she goes all out. Gigi spent the holidays at home with you but convinced you to join along with her trip down to Georgia to see her family for New Year's, claiming that you're family to her the same as they are.

After a flight that took no time at all, spending it eating snacks and watching comedy specials, you manage to get to her parent's house in no time. The visit isn't as daunting as it could be, you having made the basic introductions and impressions at her family reunion last summer, already knowing her parents well enough to help out with cooking or setting up rather than just being left to stand around as a guest. You get the family treatment and damn if it doesn't make you a little teary-eyed.

"And you didn't think that they liked you," Gigi comments after prep is all set up and done, the two of you out on the back porch drinking tea and enjoying weather that's at least slightly warmer than D.C. "I can't help it, I'm always going to try and make a good impression, no matter how long I'll know them for."

Gigi laughs and gives you a pitying pat on the knee which you playfully swat away before she sips at her iced tea. "Can't be that bad, and besides, it's New Year's Day that's the eventful time. Eve just means drinking and talkin' shit before the rest pile on in tomorrow. That's when the real shit starts."

"Noted," you murmur into your glass before seeing the soft light of the house behind you both reflect on her face and how the night air makes her just glow. Her parents mention the countdown starting from inside but leave you both to your own devices. You take her hand in yours and squeeze gently, her matching it and then counting down between grasps of each other's palms as the countdown gets closer and closer to midnight.

Setting your drinks aside, you brush her hair back behind her ear and cup her cheek, careful not to muss her makeup if you can help it. "Love you, Gigi," you murmur, enjoying how her eyes don't hide the emotion in them, seeing her reciprocate in look before words. "Love you too, baby," she shoots back, lips in a blushy grin. You hear the final numbers said aloud and hear her parents celebrate from inside, maybe even a bottle popping, but you only focus on the woman before you as you pull her close and kiss her over and over again, starting a New Year tradition you'd like to continue to the rest of y'all's days. You do.

Reagan Ridley

With everything going on in her life, the last thing she needed was some unnecessary party that she'd have to get all dressed up for, fake some smiles, and give some unwilling hugs, all the while wanting to be curled up at home with you. And that's what she proposes and does. You have a lazy day, not even bothering to change out of pajamas until necessary, and even then you both change into clean sweats and old sweatshirts or tees. It's much needed, a lazy holiday, especially just being able to talk about everything and nothing while being sprawled across the couch or your bed and enjoying one another.

She's got movies selected and queued for the whole day, a mix of your collected favorites and some new ones the two of you had been meaning to watch but hadn't had the time to until today. Snack breaks come regularly, absolutely enjoying yourself while gorging down chips and popcorn and your favorite snacks while you've got Reagan's legs in your lap and toss bits of candy or popcorn into her mouth.

Her New Year's were always filled with family drama or facades, but this year, for the first time in a long time, she gets to enjoy it fully and not fake her smiles into something unreal. No, you earn and deserve every single crooked one thrown your way from her and you cherish each one received more than the last. There are naps and intermissions and moments where neither of you say a word for the entirety of the movie, only knowing each other are awake from slight movements or each other's hands grazing across each other's body. Other times the two of you are laughing so hard you're crying, over literally nothing at all and struggling for breath. The type of wheezing, hysteric, can-barely-hold-it-together laughter. It's a good sight on her.

The two of you are nearing the end of another movie when Reagan glances at the clock and sees that midnight is approaching fast. She scrambles up and into her kitchen, yelling from the other room that there's no need to pause the movie - which you do anyways - and hear her shuffle about and pull something from the fridge and pop a cork. She pours glasses and brings in two flutes of something bubbly and bright, either champagne or sparkling cider, and whatever graces your tongue has you grinning at her in your tattered sweater and fuzzy pants with the snoopy print.

Taking in the moment, you pull up onto the screen the ball drop and curl up against one another, infectious grins on both of your faces as you watch the countdown and share the experience. It's memorable and you'll never let go of the feeling you have when you're right beside her, hand in hers. It's electric.

Reagan kisses at your knuckle from your conjoined hands as her eyes are glued to the screen, counting along with the hosts for the ball drop meanwhile you're too enamored with her to look anywhere else, knowing you are exactly where you want to be now and want to be next New Years, and hopefully many more after that. She turns and spots your soft smile and blushes before the two of you knock your foreheads together, counting down the final 3, 2, 1, and kiss, languid and lazy and soft before breaching. You clink your glasses together, cozy back up against one another on the couch, and return to your movie. Pressing your lips to her temple, you wish her a happy new year, and as Reagan returns the favor against your collarbone, she wishes you the same.

Andre Lee

"I've never had a New Year's like this before!" You exclaim over the music, moving along with him beside you and letting him twirl you around and bring you back only to crash into him, stabilizing and getting lost in the high of the moment, and other things, as you stare at him beneath bright, glowing lights than drench Andre in rainbow hues.

"Well here's your first of many!" he shoots back, grin infectious as he giggles and squeezes at your side, stepping to the side to bring you closer to the music and standing behind you so you get the better view and he can look over your shoulder and head. "Enjoying yourself?" he says over the EDM that's blasting on the giant speakers up front, nearly as large as bikes if not cars. You nod enthusiastically, bopping along to the beat.

You take Andre's hands in yours, beaded bracelets and kandi clattering on each other's arms and wrists as you move along to the beat and feel yourself warm up even in the cold of December-turning-January, the heat of bodies warming the air up just enough to be perfect for the moment.

"That's good! Need another hit?" you shake your head no, thanking him anyway and he taps at your waist, signaling that he's going to unzip the bag at your hip, pulling out his THC pen that you decorated the other day with paint and little sticker-diamonds, making it look like Lisa Frank threw up on it.

Andre takes a hit, offers it once more to be sure you don't want any, they zips it back into your side bag before pecking the corner of your mouth affectionately, blowing the smoke away from you after holding it in for a moment. "Told you the bag was a good idea, can never hold anything in these tiny pockets." you murmur against his mouth, tasting faint flavor from the vape alongside the unwavering smell of weed, giggling against his lips.

Before he can respond, the DJ queues the countdown, and Andre jumps up and down excitedly beside you, eyes bright and glossy. "Oh I never asked," and before you can question, he kneels before you on the floor, taking your hand, and you know he's joking around but the sight still sends your heart into a frenzy, "sugar, do me the honor of being my midnight kiss?"

You laugh, pointedly mentioning that the countdown is going on as you both speak and he shakes his head, refusing to get up until you give him a formal answer. "Yes, Andre, I'll be your midnight kiss. Always." With a happy shout, he hops up to his feet and falters a moment before cupping both sides of your face between his palms and kissing you with enthusiasm, tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue as confetti rains down and the music plays, starting your New Year off just right.

Glenn Dolphman

He usually would spend New Year's eve with his daughter but she's with her mother this year. You decide to cheer him up and spend the holiday with him, appearing on his doorstep thirty minutes after ending a phone call with him after getting his update, bringing groceries from your home to his to make him food and make some new traditions you hope to share with him beyond just this year.

Glenn keeps telling you that you don't have to go to all the trouble for just him, and you continue to shrug it off in efforts to cook and care for him, shutting him up with doting, affectionate kisses in the meantime. You eventually give up and have him just sit at the kitchen counter watching as you move about, letting him help occasionally and tie the bow on the end of the apron, ignoring the warmth in your cheeks as you flush at his comment of how you look so cute in it.

"Goddamnit, just," you sigh, palms braced on the counter before you look up from the granite to him as he grins, pleased with himself, "just sit back and stop being sweet, you're killing me here." Trying to turn around, you go back to a mixing bowl of cookies and aim to reach some measuring spoons for the baking powder before you get swept up and placed atop the counter and closed in, Glenn's blunt nose knocking against yours.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" you chide, a hand on your thigh laying stagnant while the other immediately reaches for him, sprawled across his broad, solid shoulder as you feel his arms cage you in, safe and warm and secure with him surrounding you. "Testing my luck in the hopes of practicing my kiss for midnight."

You hum, brow raised as you peer up at him, looking from beneath lashes that blink doe-like. "Oh? Just like that?" Glenn nods and your hand smooths back to the hairs at the nape of his neck, tugging teasingly and pushing your own luck in the same way he is, knowing that mixing bowl's gonna' be abandoned until way later in the day, if not until late this evening.

"Alright, sarge, go on ahead, make me feel real lucky," you murmur, cupping his jaw and snaking your fingers in his hair to tug him close just so he can pull you against him and kiss you breathless, nipping at your lip tenderly in the way you taught him as not to break it, letting your legs attempt to lock around his waist. They can't even touch let alone cross at the ankle. It's safe to say those cookies don't get made until way past the countdown, and Glenn's counting off times you gush around him rather than seconds until the New Year. He likes celebrating this way far better.

Myc Celium

he doesn’t really give a shit about the New Year, mainly uses it as an excuse to get fucked up and party, but lets you have your fun, staying around at home and allowing you to press kisses across his orb and under cap gills until he’s flushed and the hues start flickering as you make him forget about the New Year while getting fresh with you.

You dress up a little and manage to get a party hat onto Myc, not without some expletives thrown your way tethered together with demeaning pet names, flagella still around your waist as you lean up on tip-toes to secure it around his cap and make sure it's not tight. He helps you stand and lifts you in order to get you higher, all the while he's calling you and your entire bloodline waste of space bastards

The two of you go about the day pretty normally, cooped up at home since there's no work party this year nor any enticing ones thrown by friends or family. The two of you just lounge about or get small tasks done around the house, display parallel play, and just do other things apart from one another while being nearby. Conversations flow occasionally and other times you can hear him on call with Andre while playing a game as you reorganize something or finally settle down to stitch those patches onto your jacket.

By the time it nears eleven, the two of you settle down for a movie, curl up with one another, greasy takeout or fast food, and watch a movie, something kitschy but classic like When Harry Met Sally. Myc constantly chimes in about how the dynamic is pretty similar to you, but he thinks he's Harry with the charm and wit when he's high maintenance enough to be Sally. You humor him and litter sticky, glitter-gloss kisses to his orb or the underside of his cap across downy-soft gills.

You had set a reminder for when it would near five minutes away from midnight just so you could give Myc a classic new year's kiss with the countdown. Timing the movie out perfectly, in a scene of fated clandestine brilliance, the final scene comes on the moment you start counting down until midnight in your head, voicing along the lines that are too sweet to ignore from Billy Crystal.

"- when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

"Aren't you a sap?" Myc comments just as you grasp at the edge of his cap and cup the underside of his orb tenderly, leaning him down to meet you halfway as you countdown and finally reach one, murmuring happy new year against him as your lips brush his surface.

"Happy New Year, Myc." you breathe, leaning back flushed a minute later after he got handsy, feeling him nudge against you and crowd you against the corner of the couch cushions. "Happy New Year, sweets."

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chemistryread · 2 years

Text

she is both hellfire and holy water

- part II

you should take it as a compliment, that I’m talking to everyone here but you

jake seresin

callsign: scorcher

part I

part III

disclaimers/tags: female!aviator!reader. jake is a needy loverboy who needs to be liked so much. slowburn and angst. sooo cheesy, i know.

a/n: this is short as well, just establishing the backstory and how/why reader and jake become a little closer. there will be more parts, bear with me :)

tagging: @thedroneranger @shanimallina87 @peakascum @cherrycola27

It's a slow Saturday, and he's just come back from the gym to find you speaking quietly on the phone.

He doesn't mean to intrude, but he can't help himself. He'll eat his yogurt while he eavesdrops.

"Just, tell me those numbers again, please."

Your back is turned to him, looking out of the window, hand scratching at the back of your neck soothingly. You're shaking.

He puts a half full cup of yogurt down and takes a step in your direction, concerned but unsure.

"Got it. Yeah, thanks for letting me know. Nonono, don't worry, you know I hate it when you do that."

There's a strain to your voice and Jake has learned which of your small laughs are forced.

After that talk with Maverick, he started observing more. You, your mannerisms, how you treated everyone from or not from base. He's hell-bent on figuring out why he's different to you.

One of the things he picked up on was how you hated concern. Anyone fussing over you made you wildly uncomfortable. Sometimes, if someone asked you one too many questions about your day, you'd have to sigh quietly and mumble out a standard, masked 'fuck off' answer.

It's funny how, with him, you would've just told him to fuck off, plain and simple. He doesn't know whether to be offended or flattered.

"I'm good, really." A pause, like the other person on the line is considering. "There we go. Talk to you soon. Okay, bye."

He waits for you to turn around and notice him.

It's awkward when you take too long, holding the phone against your chest and leaning your back unsteadily against the dinner table.

You make a move to walk, feet turning to the door, but decide to retract on it.

He doesn't really know what to do with what happens next.

Still holding onto the table, you crouch down with your knees to your chest, the other hand holding the phone covering your mouth. A controlled sob breaks through.

Jake reboots on the spot, jogging to your side. That was too much, regrettably.

You jump up, nearly losing your balance, spinning away from him presumably to hide your tears.

Trembling hands rub your eyes before an infuriated face turns to him. Smooth.

"Hangman, what the fuck?!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-" He cuts himself off. There's nothing he could say to make this any less embarrassing. Surely, he just made your day much worse. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, you scared me 's all."

He shouldn't think that you look cute right now, holding your wrist to calm yourself down, skittish.

"That's not what I meant."

That hot anger takes over your bottomless-pit eyes, closing the distance and puffing your chest out, trying to look scary.

"What do you mean, then, Seresin?"

Your eyelashes are wet, and you're sniffling at the end of every sentence. It's funny that you would even try to deny you are upset. Stubborn, like Maverick said.

His cautionless chuckle is misinterpreted by the figure in front of him, who pushes on his chest - not that it moves his body at all - and storms off.

Oh, c'mon.

Shit.

He looks for you everywhere, stopping by the lockeroom to grab a hoodie and his car keys.

Eventually, he finds you sitting on the roof, watching the ocean.

"I'm knocking so I don't scare you again and you don't fall and break your neck."

Without so much as a smile, you answer him with sarcasm. "How considerate."

At least an exhale out of your nose, he expected. He was using his best sympathetic voice.

"Wouldn't you rather actually see it? Instead of looking at a distant blue line." His open hand is extended towards you, out of the window. "C'mon, I'll drive."

You leave him, ironically, hanging for a minute. But he's not giving up on you today.

Wet fingers close around his palm. You were drying new tears. His heart shrinks a little as he helps you back inside.

It was raining earlier, and you slip on a muddy spot.

Jake quickly wraps his arms around your waist and unceremoniously drags you through the window.

You take a second to regain your footing, shoes still slippery, and he steadies you with his hands on your elbows. A genuine sigh of relief passes his lips, and he shuts his eyes.

He opens them again when he feels your arm hair stand up. Your brows are furrowed, lips shaping into a pout. Adorable when upset, again. He knows he should not think like that.

"You scared me, I scared you back. We're even."

He chuckles again, but you're unrelenting. He stands there, holding you, for a beat too long before you widen your eyes towards the door.

Right, he promised to take you somewhere. Where again?

For the entire ride, your head is leaning back on the headrest, wind ruffling your hair.

Finally at the beach, you seem confused when he takes a seat next to you on the sand.

"Fucking…what now?"

"What are you doing?"

"Watching the ocean, I thought that's what you wanted to do."

"I thought you were gonna meet someone here. You said you were giving me a ride."

Ok, he never thought of you as stupid before but this is a strong contender to sway his opinion.

"No, I said I would drive. Why would I bring you along to meet someone? That makes no sense."

"Fine, then what do you want?"

He laughs in your face again. He should probably stop doing that, but this one is justifiable.

"Are you always this suspicious of everyone? Live a little, honey." As soon as he looks back at you, your lips are pursed into a thin line and he regrets the venom in his words. Maverick's revelations come back to him. You do have a hard time trusting people, and especially him, apparently. "I thought it'd make you feel better. Maybe make you want to talk about it."

"It has nothing to do with the Navy, if you think you're getting any juicy gossip."

Your hands are digging into the sand, arms leaning on them as if prepared to get up and leave any second.

He speaks quietly and slow, ignoring the way you assumed that he was only trying to get information out of you, more patient than he knew he could be.

"If you want to talk about it, I'm happy to listen. Or we can just watch the waves, but I can't guarantee I won't get bored and actually call someone to meet me here."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, but a small tug of your lips is very much noticed by his watchful eyes, just as much as your shoulders relaxing as you get more comfortable on the fluffy ground.

"Only if you promise not to offer help or say you're sorry."

Holy shit, you are stubborn. He bites back a smile.

"Promise."

"What do you want to know?"

He's not Penny, but he understands this means you will talk about it but want to have control of the conversation. Not give away anything he doesn't inquire about.

"Why were you crying?"

The only times he saw tears from you were when Maverick made it back in the F-14 and at the finish line of a marathon where Phoenix got first place. Even then, they pooled around your eyes but did not dare to actually drop.

"Got surprised by something." He's glad the sun isn't too bright and you're sitting under the shade, because he can see your smile reach your eyes when you laugh at his hesitant and confused expression. The lightness in your clarification is nice to hear. "A bad something."

"Oh." Normally, he would have his sunglasses on, but maybe if you can look into his eyes you'll see that you can trust his intentions. "Don't think I've seen you that upset, ever."

Quickly, you look away, flustered. Fuck's sake, he wants you to know it's alright. But how can he possibly do that without scaring you away when he already knows you don't trust him?

A sigh, followed by a barely audible laugh. It's bitter.

"I guess I'm just tired of this."

Do you mean flying? God, he hopes you don't mean flying. You have one of the sharpest eyes and best quick-thinking - instinct - up there. He enjoyed watching you have a good time in the air, even more when you took it dead serious and kicked everyone's ass when it was just a standard training. You're fun.

"Of this?"

"Oh, no! No, not this. This is everything I am, I can't let go of it anytime soon."

"That's a relief, you have no idea." It's mumbled, but you catch it, squinting at him. He can see you swallowing, gearing up to tease him, so he brings your focus back to the matter at hand. "Then what?"

You swallow harder, looking at the horizon with a pained expression.

"I don't…have anyone, Jake." You never used his name. He takes it as a test. You look back at him and he maintains the same encouraging look. He's listening. "Family, I mean. I haven't seen or spoken to my mother since I was a teenager, my own choice. I have brothers but we never got along, there's a big age difference. And my dad is the reason I'm in a bit of a mess. It's just tiring, to have no one to fall back on."

He remembers not to say sorry and props you up to continue.

"Extended?"

Another painful look.

"My parents were…weird. They didn't like each other, but they also did not like each other's families. It was psychological warfare, keeping each other away from the people who actually cared for them until someone broke under the pressure and finally asked to leave. By the time they divorced, I was too old to be interesting to any of them."

"That is seriously demented."

"I know."

There's the lightness again. You seem to keep a sense of humour about all this.

"Still, they're your family. Don't they want to be close to you now?"

You shrug.

"Dad has a new family. They can do the whole affection thing and holidays together from scratch. Small kids are easier to please, deal and relate with than grown adults."

Affection thing. He wants to laugh at how foreign it sounds coming from you, until he realizes that you really don't know what that's like. He thinks back to his own family. Numerous and suffocating, sometimes.

"They don't care about you? Where you are or what you're doing?"

"Sometimes they text. Usually they just ask my dad about me, but it's pretty inefficient since he doesn't know how to answer that. I've been erased from their history."

Your head might be held up high right now, but he hears the shame.

"Well, they're missing out."

You laugh again, and he is stupidly, childishly proud that he made it happen.

"I don't know, they have a lot of people around them. I think they're okay."

There's silence after that. You mean it, no bitterness that time. You think they're better off without you. It's not his place to, but he wonders what convinced you of such a thing. He doesn't know anyone who would say that their lives would be improved by not having you. Usually, it's the other way around.

Looking at you, it seems like it doesn't even bother you. You've accepted it. You deserve to be shunned from your family, to be alone. A desire to change that perspective sparks inside of him.

He coughs.

"What about your dad? You said he's the reason you're in trouble, so you keep in touch."

Sensitive spot. You readjust on the sand, biting your lip so it stops quivering, nails digging into your forearms.

"The only thing we talk about is money. From time to time, he calls to ask for some. Demanding that I pay back what he gave raising me, since I'm not grateful. That's how it works in his head, anyways."

"That's what happened? He asked for money and you don't have it?"

You're scratching yourself now and he regrets asking but you're already answering.

"Sort of. I accumulated a lot of debt after I moved out. A couple of- Actually, exactly two years ago, I payed it off. All of it. Then, three months ago my dad needed help and I had some money saved so I gave it to him. Life is full of surprises, no matter how well you plan for those, so now I'm falling behind on some bills again and I guess…I don't know I guess I had flashbacks to that desperate feeling of not knowing how you're gonna fix a problem on your own."

"Ask Maverick, or even Cyclone for some way to-"

"Jake."

Bile churns in his stomach at the threatening way you said his name. A warning. It's vulnerable, the waterline of your eyes glimmering. He doesn't know if this is an appropriate moment to say sorry or if the rules still apply.

"Why did you give it to him? You said he has family, people, let them help him."

You lay down on the sand, covering your eyes with your arms, crossing the wrists.

"It's not simple. If I do that, I'll start a war. I know because I've tried. And it's not worth it. In his eyes, I owe him." Your arms come down to swat a fly away and he's glad to see your face again. "I just- I want peace. I want to be left alone. Whatever it takes, because I'm fucking sick of it. If giving him the money will get him off my case for even a day, it's good with me."

You sound suffocated.

He wants to tell you he is sorry. He wants to wax poetic about how loving his own family is and how that made him into a good, or at least better than he could ever be on his own, human being. But he's afraid it'll come out dishonest, despite it being true. He finds sentimentality usually sounds forced in his voice, it's kind of a curse, not able to sound genuine no matter how hard he tries. So he doesn't try anymore.

He lays back with you. It's not the moment to think about this, but you make him nervous. Jake Seresin walking on eggshells to avoid hurting someone's feelings, to prevent a pretty girl from slipping through his fingers.

"If you didn't like me before, I can only imagine how much I disgust you now. Sorry."

It's so quiet, barely breaking through your teeth.

"Why would you disgust me?" It's not the term he would use. Stomp, maybe. "And I thought we weren't saying sorry."

"I mean, everyone who's related to me keeps their distance. Surely, something must be wrong with me. That's what you're thinking." Your eyes are closed, and he takes the opportunity to get closer, turning on his stomach. "And I make the rules, of course I can say it."

"I don't think anything's wrong with you. Not for family-issues-related reasons."

"Aha, but you think I'm weird, right? You said it once."

"Why do you rememb- Oh my God, is that why you don't like me?"

"Who said I don't like you?"

Your eyes shoot open at the accusation, widening once they notice how close you are.

"C'mon, you despise me. I feel it every time you look at me."

He's smiling, obviously teasing you, even with a spot of truth to his exaggerated statement. But you're serious, staring into his eyes a little too long. It unnerves him.

"Fine, I owe you an apology." If his mouth wasn't so dry he would choke. "I don't despise you, Seresin, you're just easy to fuck with."

"I'M EASY TO FUCK WITH?"

"See?"

He shuts up as you prove your point, embarrassed that you captured him so perfectly. Do you know it's just you, though? That the truth is, he isn't easy to fuck with, you just have an easy time fucking with him.

"But I thought…at least the thing with Rooster's dad and Maverick would've made you hate me. It worked for everyone else."

"Lucky for you, I make my own opinions on people." You're blushing? He smiles and lets his eyes fall to your lips briefly, for fun. "I was disappointed."

There you go again, killing all the good feelings inside of him in a millisecond.

"But?" He holds out hope.

Lingering on how disappointment implies expectations. He is equally pressured, annoyed and flattered that you'd expect something out of him. Most people just meet him, stick to their first impressions and expect nothing. It's freeing.

"But I wanted to see how you would handle it. That's the most important part. You fucked up, how you deal with the aftermath counts a lot. And not only did Rooster forgive you, you saved their lives. I can't hold a petty thing that barely involves me against you after all that."

"You never said anything. I expected to be yelled at, like Rooster."

"Did you want me to yell at you?"

It's a confident whisper, taking back control of the conversation at his expense. Fuck, is he blushing? You're steamrolling him. Easy.

"Why let him have all the fun?"

You roll your eyes again, rejecting his advances like a million times before, but there's a new found playfulness to it. His heart beats faster.

"Like I said, I wanted to see what you would do. If I interfered, I wouldn't be able to judge your character, would I?"

Anyone else, and he would've told them to shove judgement up their ass, he doesn't need it. But he sort of wants your judgement to fall on him, so he can know what to think of himself. That's not how it should work. Alas.

Still, one thing bugs him.

"What about Bradshaw's character?"

He cocks his head back, like he just made a great point you hadn't thought about.

"He showed it from day one." Realization probably crosses his face because you mock it. Unlike the easy-going Bradley, he did keep some walls up. A giggle (Jesus, a giggle? Do you want to kill him?) escapes your lips and you bite them to stop it. "Relax, not everyone is an open book. I know, that's why I gave you the chance to show everyone you're mostly alright."

"What?"

"Someone had to tell those hard headed idiots to trust the process."

You did- Why would you?

"Wait- you just, what, told them to have a little faith in me?"

You scoff.

"No, I told them I have a tendency to be right. And I was."

That sounds more like you, cocky but for a reason. And yet, it's weird to hear it in defense of him.

Jake still doesn't fully understand, mind overflowing with questions, urging to have the blanks filled.

"So you defended me?"

Green eyes do their best to intimidate you, or he thinks that's what they are doing, hopes. You pinch the bridge of your nose.

"You're no damsel in distress, Hangman, I wasn't safekeeping your honor-" A snort this time, and he knows you're taking the piss out of him, but he's reveling in it as if it's a compliment. Maybe it is, coming from you. The relaxed expression on your face, freely teasing him like you do with the rest of the squad. He'll take it, if it's all you got. "I just said you probably weren't evil, and you'd come around when needed. Floyd was the one who stood by me the strongest, if you'd like to know."

And right you were, he stepped up when Maverick and Rooster needed him to, without hesitation.

A possibly misplaced sense of pride, the pure kind, spreads inside of him at the thought that you saw potential in him. He expected Javy to know that he would do whatever was necessary, maybe their instructor and mentor, who seemed like an optimistic man. But you, who never really gave him the time of day, who didn't seem impressed by much…that was unexpected. Almost as much as the intensity with which he is pleased to hear you don't not believe in him.

"I could get used to having you on my side."

He pours as much of his charm into the sentence. You don't look even a bit phased, and your voice stays leveled.

"That's a seriously presumptuous leap. I never even said I like you."

Stubborn fucking Lieutenant.

He shakes his head and starts getting up, doing a couple half assed push ups to annoy you (it works) before cleaning the sand from his hands on top of your body.

You swat it away with a faux scowl. He's getting real good at discerning your genuine and fake reactions.

"Wanna grab something to eat?"

You're quicker to take his hand this time, looking at the sun setting behind him.

"How about something to drink?"

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #tgm x reader #tgm fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction

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