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assembletheimagines · 2 years

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Could you do a Steve Rogers x reader where reader and Steve don't get along at all and they slowly become lovers. Idk if thats alright or not. Thanks. Ps love your work.

A/N: Fuck, I feel like I don’t know how to write enemies to lovers' trope but hey practice makes perfect?? Idk, but lmao I tried.

Summary: Captain America gets on your nerves. But he could say the same about you.

“You can’t just-”

“I can’t what?” You hissed, turning to Steve with a heated glare. “Save your ass?” You pushed and watched Steve’s eyes narrow as he puffed out his chest.

“I don’t need saving, Sweetheart.”

You were going to scream.

Or fight him.

Or both.

“Just because you’re Captain America does not mean I won't kick your ass, Rogers.”

His scoffed laugh infuriating you more, egging you further and without hesitating you swung.

Stronger fingers wrapped around your wrist quickly, stopping your hand from connecting to Steve’s face. And you watched with a glare as his lips turning into a dark smile.

“Like I said,” he hummed, his hand still holding your wrist in the air. “I don’t need saving.”

Steve’s fingers twitched as a noticeable clicking sound resonated through the quinjet.

“Stop,” Steve’s command calm and collected as he shot you an annoyed look before moving his eyesight to where the pen rested in your hand. Your thumb hovering over the end where you wouldn’t stop pressing causing the pen tip to appear and disappear with a simple ‘click,’ over and over again.

You looked over at Steve, eyes never leaving his.

Click.

Steve’s eyes narrowed.

You flipped him the bird before leaving, moving towards the back of the jet to where Sam and Nat were.

Steve had to close his eyes momentarily as he rested his head back on his chair. Inhaling through the nose before exhaling slowly.

Click.

He must be going crazy, Steve’s eyebrows furrowing as he hit the punching bag in front of him.

It’s been too long. It’s been too quiet.

You had gone on a mission with Sam that had you both out in the field for over two weeks and he punched the bag harder.

No, he didn’t worry. Another swing. No, he didn’t want to see you. Another jab. Actually, he was more than relaxed now that you were away. The bag split open, sand falling from the inside and slowly piling on the floor as his chest heaved.

“Quinjet 316 has landed,” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice sounded from above and Steve tensed.

He didn’t know why, but he found himself walking outside as the quinjet powered down. Sam walking out with you in tow.

Steve’s face hardened, covering any emotion as you met his gaze.

Your eyes rolled at the sight of him standing there. “No, don’t look too enthusiastic that we’re back.” You hummed sarcastically as you walked past him.

He turned around, shoulders tensing again. “Don’t forget to file your report.” He watched as you almost stopped walking. But you continued without looking back, raising a finger in the air back at him as single response. Sam laughed and Steve relaxed, before looking away from you entering the compound. A small smile forming at his lips.

You walked quietly across the deck, your wet suit sticking to your body from when you jumped from the plane and landed into the ocean.

It was a simple mission. Get on the yacht, download all the files onto your flash drive and dip.

“Hey!” A man called out and you froze at the sound of the safety of a gun being switched. You turned around slowly, seeing a man pointing his gun at you, looking angry. “Who-”

But before he could finish his question, his mouth went slack, his grip on the gun loosening as his body fell forward. You grunted barely having any time to catch him, dropping his softly on the ground so no noise was made.

Your eyes met with blue one’s. Steve already putting his shield back over his arm. “Are you trying to let everyone know we are here?” You glared and Steve looked from the guy unconscious on the floor then back to you.

“Thank you would be nice.”

You stared at him for a moment, blinking, before you looked up at him with round innocent eyes. “Oh, thank you so much for saving me, Cap.” Your words slightly sarcastic but Steve didn’t miss a beat.

“Always.”

And you had to blink in surprise again, you were fully expecting him to bicker back to you. You were used to it. But you stayed standing in the same spot as Steve walked past you.

You didn’t know what to say, so you kept quiet as Cap took over, leading you to the main communication room so you could finish the mission.

Your fingers slipped the flash drive into the usb port and began the download, your gaze glancing over at Steve who guarded the door. You felt confused as you replayed his response in your head.

Fuck this dress.

And fuck these heels.

That was what you were thinking as you walked around the ballroom, your mask covering the top half of your face.

You were currently on a mission, gathering intel on a possible trade of stolen vibranium and the deal was supposedly happening at this masquerade ball.

“Suspect is leaving through the doors on the west,” Sam’s voice rang through your comm. He was working communications from on top of the roof with redwing as you played dress up with Steve and Bucky.

“Got it,” you murmured through your ear piece as you moved across the floor, eyes on the target as the door began to close. You slipped through and watched him turn the corner.

You were so focused on getting to the dealer that you didn’t think about the possible guards patrolling. You heard the guards' footsteps from around the corner where the target had disappeared behind, coming closer. You raised your hand ready to strike but before anything happened a hand wrapped around your wrist turning you and pushing you against the wall.

A head dipped into the curve of your neck as you gasped. You were about to fight the person holding you to the wall with their weight before hearing the man against you speak. “Wait,” Steve’s lips barely brushing on your neck as the guards walked around the corner. You froze.

The guards snickered as they walked past the both of you, most likely thinking it was just a drunk couple kissing.

Once the coast was clear, Steve moved back, leading you both to finish this mission.

As you walked your fingers ghosted over the area on your neck, you could still feel Steve’s lips on your skin.

“Stop moving,” Steve murmured as his hands brushed over your hips. He was standing between your legs as you sat on top of the counter. You had just gotten back from a mission with Nat and everything went well. Or as well as it could have gone with the target pulling a gun on you and shooting.

You were lucky it had only grazed your side since Nat took the guy down last minute. But when you both returned with a bandage pressed to your side you found yourself in front of Steve’s door. A weak smile on your lips when he answered. His eyes narrowing when he saw your hand holding your side.

“It’s just a graze, Cap.” You said softly and sucked in a breath as he lifted your shirt up gently, his fingers ghosting over your bandage.

“It could have been worse,” He countered with a frown and you rolled your eyes placing a hand on top of his that rested down on your hip again.

“But it wasn’t,” you reassured meeting his eyes. You couldn’t read what he was thinking but it had your heart racing. “Nat-”

But your words were cut off as Steve dropped his head on your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you tight to his chest. “It could have been worse.”

The way the words fell from his lips had your heart clenching as you moved your hand to the back of his head, your fingers tugging his head back so he could look at you. You two didn’t say anything for a moment, letting the silence fill the feelings you both didn’t say.

You both realized the shift happening between the two of you at the same time. And you didn’t think as you pulled Steve back to you. Your lips pressing into his, confirming everything you felt for him and everything he felt for you.

#asembletheimagines #steve #steve rogers #captain america #steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america x y/n #enemies to lovers

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moonstruckme · 7 months

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well deserved 1k!!! i got inspired by the ones you posted yesterday

bodyguard!tasm!peter x reader (can be royal au or not)

i just love the use of spidey senses in fics, especially when being around reader fucks with peter's ability to focus 🥰

Thanks sweetness <3

join the party

bodyguard!(tasm)Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 845 words

Peter doesn’t like to think of himself as being for hire. But, well, he does think of himself as a sort of civic employee. And money is tight. So if the mayor wants to pay Spiderman to keep an eye on his daughter after he’s gotten a few threats, it’s really his civic duty and a good business opportunity.

Still, he’d been expecting some bratty, snot-covered kid, not you, kind and his age and tongue-twistingly beautiful.

“Is this really the safest place for us to be?” you ask nervously.

“I, um, I think so,” Peter stammers, caught off-guard by how cinematic your hair looks blowing around in the wind (like, it’s fucking ridiculous). God, what is he doing? He doesn’t think so, he knows so. He’s supposed to be competent, in-charge, not some moony-eyed dunce. “Not many people can get this high other than me, so I figure if anyone’s trying to get to you, we may as well make it difficult for them.”

You hum your understanding, but you don’t relax. Peter doesn’t blame you; it’s easy for him to forget how scary heights were before he had the security of his web shooters, but he knows this drop must look terrifying. You’re perched at the top of a tower across the street from where your dad is giving a speech. For reasons he hadn’t seen fit to tell Peter (or Spiderman, whatever), the mayor seems to think that this would be a prime time for his political enemies to make a grab for you. Peter hopes it’s not because your dad’s about to say something stupid in front of this giant crowd and on live TV. He’d only mentioned that he’d been getting a few more death threats than usual lately, and wanted to be extra sure you were safe.

Your shoe slips an inch, and you whimper, though you’re still feet away from the edge of the roof.

“You’re okay,” Peter says quickly, moving closer to you. “Listen, the last thing I’m gonna do is let you fall. It’d make me a pretty bad bodyguard, you know?”

“I know,” you say, but you’re nearly panting, your chest rising and falling in shallow bursts as you try to keep your panic under control. “I’m sorry, it’s just—it’s a hard instinct to ignore.”

“I get that,” he says sympathetically. You’re all but sitting down against the sloped roof, fingers pressed to the metal as if you can dig your nails in to save yourself. Fuck, he’s gonna regret this. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I could hold onto you if you want.”

You don’t even hesitate, nodding quickly. “That would make me much more comfortable, actually.”

Peter doesn’t waste any time, breaching the gap between you and wrapping his arm securely around your waist. You’re tense all over, and your nails bite into his shoulder as you grip it like a lifeline. Which, he supposes, you probably think it is. He feels his face grow warm under his mask as you press yourself up against him, but the proximity doesn’t seem to phase you, all your concern still focussed on the hundred foot drop beneath you. You’re shaking a little, and Peter feels guilty for not relieving you sooner, bringing his other arm around you to rub at the goosebumps on your upper arm hesitantly.

“Thanks,” you murmur breathlessly, seeming to relax more now that he’s got both arms around you.

“No problem.” Just doing my job, he thinks sarcastically. Feeling up a pretty girl.

He looks back at the podium across the street to realize the crowd has nearly doubled in size without him noticing. If you were distracting before, he doesn’t even know what to call you now. He can’t tell if his spidey sense is going haywire or if that’s just his nerves, all fired-up from your proximity. How’s he supposed to protect you if he can’t think of anything but how good you smell?

“I really appreciate your help,” you say, voice sweeter now that it’s lost some of its panicked edge, “even if I don’t wholly approve of your methods.” Is that a teasing note he detects? He definitely won’t be able to split his focus if you start flirting with him. “My dad doesn’t let me in the loop on much, do you know if this is just a one-time thing? Or will I be seeing more of you?”

Okay, fuck professionalism. “I’m not really sure,” Peter answers honestly, “but your dad seems like a smart guy, and I’m sure he doesn’t want you to be vulnerable. I mean, you’re already a target because you’re the mayor’s daughter, but a pretty thing like you? You should probably be under full-time protection.”

You really do slip then, gasping as your feet slide out from under you. Peter tugs you close to his side, not letting you move forward more than an inch. “Easy, easy,” he says as you clutch at him, trying to stabilize yourself. Now there’s a little pink coloring your cheeks, too. “I gotcha.”

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fxrmuladaydreams · 22 days

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When they laughed, it made his heart swell. They would throw their head back nearly every time, as if it was the funniest joke in the world. He loved to watch the joy take over their features. It was like their laugh melted away all the bad things. His favorite part of their laughter, however, was how their hand would always land on his arm. It would linger on his skin as they giggled, sending fireworks through him.

With Oscar’s weekend

!! oscar weekend requests are now closed !!

i hope this is good, i always find it so hard to describe oscar’s personality/sense of humor because it’s so specific

It took people a while to understand Oscar. Oftentimes he was claimed to be reserved, a calm and serious driver. Some people even said he had a “stale” personality.

To be fair, he is a bit quiet, you could even say introverted, until he becomes comfortable around someone. Working at McLaren has helped a bit, what with working with one of the more extroverted drivers on the grid.

Lando practically yanks Oscar out of his shell, poking fun at him, making the Australian fight back with his own witty remarks, ending in both drivers in a fit of giggles.

He’s warmed up to the rest of the McLaren group over the last season, but one team member in particular was able to pull his attention to them whenever they walked in the room.

He met you during his rookie season, while he was still getting used to being an F1 driver. You always gave him a smile when you saw him, and quietly wished him luck before races. You had joined McLaren at the same time he did, as a part of their social media team. He felt more at ease knowing he wasn’t the only new person on the team.

It took a little while for him to gather the courage to actually speak to you. His quiet “hi”s turned into brief conversations about your day or his which then turned into seeking each other out in the garage.

You were always happy to be told you’d get to spend the day with Oscar, following him around while filming a new Unboxed video. You’d grown attached to the younger driver over the last year. You enjoyed spending time with him, probably more than a coworker should. You couldn’t help it though, he made it impossible to not want to be near him.

You loved his quick wit and his sarcastic comments. You knew that there weren’t many people who could fully understand his sense of humor, but you were glad to indulge him, listening to him make his comments about the race or other drivers, things he would never say in front of a camera or over the radio, to you.

It wasn’t meant to actually happen at first. He thought he was being quiet enough that no one could hear him as he mumbled to himself, unzipping his race suit so it hangs around his hips. Even in the loud garage though, he still hears it. He hears your laughter ringing through the machinery. He looks up to see you looking at him. You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to hide your laughter.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear anything, I promise.” You tell him, still trying to hide your smile.

Oscar thinks he must be dreaming. He swears he’s never heard a sound as beautiful as your laughter, and he decides then and there that he will do anything he can to keep hearing that sound.

He finds you after races now, and brings you to his driver’s room, somewhere you can have your own little “debrief”. He lets you talk about your work during the weekend, listening intently whether he had been with you during the weekend or not, then he tells you about his driving over the weekend.

He’s found that you tend to laugh more when he keeps his words unfiltered, when he truly says what he wants to, uncaring of how he sounds. He makes snarky remarks about the way Carlos drives, or about how he and Lando are talking about paying each other to crash into Max, and he’s gifted with your laughter.

He feels his face flush as you throw your head back, not hiding your face from him anymore. Your hand lands on his arm, softly squeezing his bicep as you try to catch your breath.

“You can’t crash into Max!” You get out in between breaths. “You’ll have all of the Netherlands at your throat!”

He smiles at you, his grin matching yours.

“Not if I make it look like an accident.” He shrugs, sending you into another fit of laughter.

You shake your head once you’ve calmed down. “No, Oscar Piastri is too good a driver to make mistakes like that.”

He ducks his head down, attempting to hide the blush on his cheeks.

“Lando Norris on the other hand…”

Oscar lets out a laugh of his own, leaning into you.

#oscar piastri x reader #formula one x reader #oscar weekend

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boxboxlewis · 5 months

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for the talented genius @powerful-owl... a wise woman once prompted "Bodyswap but it’s just dick swap! 😈😈😈 You have to figure out the owner of your temporary dick. Also, it responds to its usual owner's brain!" cw for size difference & small dick max

Max wakes up slowly at first, and then all at once: because although his body is heavy and warm under covers, as usual, something isn’t right. Something is different, is differentnewstrangegood—new but juuuuust right—he’s grinding his dick against the mattress, he’s feeling the unfamilar length of it pressed against his stomach, the strange tug of something in the tip that must be a piercing—

He bolts immediately awake, panting, and flips onto his back. And then he lies still for a moment, staring at the ceiling, before curling back on his side and willing himself back into sleep, on the grounds that maybe everything will be back to normal when he wakes up again.

Yeah, it isn’t.

He decides to ignore the situation, for the time being. He gets dressed and walks over to the fridge to get himself a premixed protein shake without thinking any thoughts at all, without even noticing—anything. There’s nothing to see here. And definitely nothing to feel.

He drinks the shake, which takes about two minutes, and then figures he should probably try to man up. Deal with the situation. He gets out his phone and scrolls to his text thread with Daniel, because Daniel is, he’s pretty sure, the only person he knows with a dick piercing.

Daniel, it turns out, has texted. Many times.

Hey max, how’s things, little out of the blue here but like

Anything weird going on with you, today? Pants-wise?

Hello

Maaaaaaaaaax

[missed call from Daniel Teammate]

Answer me motherfucker

Hey you know it’s really fucking annoying that you never have notifs turned on?

I THINK I HAVE YOUR FUCKING DICK MAX

[missed call from Daniel Teammate]

I know you’re overthinking this cmon just call me

Otherwise I’m going to take drastic measures

Max mentally rolls his eyes. Drastic measures like what, text some dick pics to the press with the caption “Hey anything look different?”? He texts Daniel back, Please calm down you’re embarrassing me. And then, This happens sometimes, right? He thinks about saying more—how it happens between people with a strong emotional connection, how some people say it’s a soulmate thing—but that feels way too mortifying to type out. Also, Daniel probably already knows. Instead he writes KMag and Charles, everyone says, before they got married. Although that maybe is a rumour. He’s about to keep listing grid dickswap incidents—there have been quite a few, more than you’d expect, really—when Daniel calls again.

Max picks up this time. “Hello, Daniel.”

Daniel is breathing heavily, as if he’s just come back from a run. “Fuck you. How are you so calm about this? You should be the one freaking out and I should be calm. This is bullshit. How has this fucking happened? I want my dick back, Max!”

Max feels a small bloom of hurt in his chest, which he tries to ignore. Of course Daniel wants his dick back. First of all, it’s his dick, the one he’s used to. Secondly, it’s—Max shakes his head to clear it. “Look, Daniel, I of course do not want your stupid dick. So. Come back to Monaco so we can jerk each other off.”

“I—what?”

“So we can jerk each other off,” Max repeats patiently. “That’s how you reverse this, everyone knows that.”

“I guess I’m just a little confused about how we’re supposed to go from teammates and friends to mutual masturbators, but if that’s the solution then sure, let’s go!” Daniel says. He sounds slightly hysterical. “I’ll just get me and my Max Verstappen junk on a plane and get myself over to your boudoir.” He says “boudoir” sarcastically, as if he’s assuming Max’s bedroom is some spare, utilitarian space with no personality. Which is very rude, because actually Max has some of his most important helmets on display there.

“We can wait, if you want,” Max says. “We can see if it just goes away naturally. Only Pierre and Esteban, they are trying this, and they have been waiting now for seven years.”

“Pierre and Esteban,” Daniel scoffs. “They’re fucking idiots.”

Max leaves a significant pause. Eventually, Daniel says “Fine, I’ll get on a plane.”

While Max is waiting for Daniel, he goes for a run. Running has never really cleared his mind or whatever it’s meant to do, but it’s nice, feeling tired afterwards, feeling his leg muscles aching virtuously.

It’s in the shower that it happens. Max is very assiduously not looking down—he is staring, in fact, at the fucking ceiling—and he’s not venturing anywhere near the region of his junk. Daniel’s junk. Whatever. But then he feels himself getting hard, and it’s not just—he can feel the pressure of a hand on his dick. The pressure keeps on going, gliding and squeezing, and it’s like getting a handjob from a ghost, except the ghost is Max’s teammate who has Max’s dick. Max shoves his fist as far into his mouth as he can and screams a little bit, and then reaches down and cautiously wraps a hand around himself. He still can’t look, but the feel of it shocks him, fills his mind and sets it buzzing. Daniel’s dick is big, as Max had suspected, but feeling it with his own hand is different than suspecting it. The piercing at the end, right through the tip, that feels different too. When Max tugs it gently his eyes roll back, partly from the feeling and partly from knowing that Daniel is feeling it too, that Daniel, wherever he is, is responding to Max's hand—

Max comes so hard his vision blacks out; when he can see again, he’s still staring at the ceiling.

Once he’s dried off and dressed he texts Daniel. Was that really necessary? Daniel responds with a middle finger emoji. Then Max realises that while he was in the shower Daniel sent a photo. Max stares at the photo with his head swimming, and quickly makes the executive decision that he needs to be sitting down in a non-bathroom environment in order to really appreciate it and make sure that he’s seeing what he thinks he’s seeing. He makes it to the couch on numb legs and sinks into the cushions.

And when he looks at his phone again, there it is—there’s fucking proof positive of everything Max was trying not to think about. Max’s dick, pink and erect, gripped in Daniel’s hand, the tip barely peeking out. He can feel himself starting to get turned on again, thinking about Daniel touching himself, Daniel’s hand on Max’s dick: except the dick on his body doesn’t respond. Which means Daniel must be getting hard right now, with Max’s dick.

You’re sick, he texts. Daniel replies right away: Yeah yeah c’mon, give me a picture. So Max does, reluctantly, heading back to the bathroom where the biggest mirror is, feeling stupid the whole time. The mirror is still kind of steamy from his shower, which lends a softcore kind of vibe to the scene that Daniel will hopefully think is funny. Max rucks his shirt up, over his nipples, and gets his other hand on Daniel’s dick, at the base. He's hard again, can feel the ghost-strokes of Daniel touching himself, and he looks—he looks pretty good, he thinks. Then he realises that his pose leaves him without a hand to take the photo. He takes his shirt off and tries again, and sends the pic to Daniel before he can think too much about it. Daniel responds with a row of flame emojis, which should maybe be off-putting but just makes Max crack up.

They jerk off two more times before Daniel gets to the apartment, and Max is starting to feel familiar with the shape of Daniel’s dick, the heft of it, where it’s sensitive, what to do with the piercing. When the man himself arrives Max feels ready. “Daniel! Come in,” he says, and can hear how oddly formal he sounds, as if the undoing of a dickswap is some grand social occasion.

He leads Daniel into the living room, and then before he can chicken out, he asks the question that’s been nagging at him since the morning. “Daniel, why did you straightaway think it was my dick?”

Daniel gets the mildly electrocuted expression he gets sometimes when he thinks a situation is about to get awkward. “Did I?” he says. “Think that?”

Max flicks him in the ribs. “You texted me about eight hundred times,” he says. “I assume you did not also send those messages to anyone else on the grid, but I don’t know your life. Maybe you did.”

“Ah, no, you got me,” Daniel says. “I guess I just, uh. Suspected, maybe?” He clears his throat. “Because of, just, like. Uh. And like, people say it’s always like someone you’re close to, right, so like—”

Max cuts him off. It’s embarrassing for Daniel, hearing him dance around trying not to say I thought you had a small dick, so when I woke up with a small dick I assumed it was yours. “Okay, enough,” Max says. “Thank you Daniel, that is a great explanation that definitely is very plausible.” Daniel makes a protesting noise, but Max powers on. “Before we swap back I anyway have something I want to ask you. You do not have to say yes, it is not—I will not mind, if you say no. I will understand.”

He looks at Daniel, to make sure Daniel is listening. Daniel doesn’t look electrocuted anymore: he’s half-smiling, eyes warm, so. That’s good. “Yeah, Maxy, I got you. What’s your question?”

Max takes a deep breath, and says, “Before we swap back, can I fuck someone with your dick?”

huge thank you to @lights-out-go for a) organising this and b) helping me take this ficlet from "pile o' words" to "pile o' words i can post on tumblr" 💖

DON'T MISS: previously, on emfest! @officialmood's soulmates masterpiece and @onadarklingplain's scholarship in the key of alpha toto/omega george!

#emfest2023 #my fic #rbr era #maxiel #mv33 #dr3

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lambertdiary · 8 months

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Hi I am absolutely in love with your writing and you make me fall for Dalton every post you make 😍 I was just wondering if maybe you could make one where he’s dating the reader and she’s a girly girl like maybe does cheer, wears skirts and loves dresses and all things pastel. What if it’s like the anniversary of Dalton and them so he tries to find a gift for her with Chris and he buys her like a really boyish gift (lego or nerf?) and chris is like “she’s gonna break up with you” but she actually loves it 🥰 I’m sorri if this is so long ;w; feel free ignore this request~

A/N: hey! sorry I haven't posted a proper fic in a few days but I have been a little busy and dealing with a major case of writer's block. So about the request... This is not exactly like anon asked, I think I got a little distracted but hopefully you will like it! Thanks anon for the kind words and for your request <3 Sorry it took so long to write but anyway. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1.7k+

Warnings: language, mentions of being drunk, fluff

MASTERLIST ✩ SEND ME A REQUEST

Building Love

Dalton has been preparing for their special day for a while. It was his first anniversary with Y/N and he’s sure he’s never been more nervous, but considering he has never been in a relationship before he thinks he has everything under control: dinner reservations at her favourite restaurant, a suit, a gift and even a rented car to drive to the town.

He just needed one last thing, wrap Y/N’s gift before their date. Dalton knocked on the door a couple of times before opening it and letting himself into Chris’ dorm. “Please, come in” She said sarcastically, sitting up in her bed.

“I need help” Dalton spoke in a desperate tone, looking at Chris with begging eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“I have Y/N’s gift in my room but I don’t know how to wrap it. I tried but it looks like an 8 year old did it”

“Oh right, I forgot today was your big day” Chris pushed herself from her bed “Do you have enough wrapping or do we need more?” She asked, walking out of her dorm willing to help Dalton.

“I bought a few rolls, just in case” They went to Dalton’s room in a hurry, he almost ran downstairs as Chris tried to stay close to him. Once he opened the door Chris looked around, scanning the floor covered in pink ripped paper, trying to find the gift she was about to wrap.

“What did you buy for her?” She asked when she couldn’t find it. Dalton walked to his bed to grab the gift and proudly showed it to his friend “A lego set? Really?” It was a huge box with a picture of a bookshop on it. It had over two thousand pieces and it looked like it would take a long time to assemble.

“Yeah, I thought we could build it together” Dalton replied, looking pleased with himself.

Chris on the other hand was expecting this to be some kind of joke, but her smile started to fade as she noticed Dalton’s serious expression “I hope you know she’s gonna break up with you”

“What? Why do you think that?” His demeanour changed completely at Chris’ words.

“Dalton, do you know Y/N?”

“I do. I know her better than you do, and I know her well enough to know that she’s gonna like this and that she’s not gonna break up with me… right?”

“And you couldn’t even get a girly one? Like the flowers or something like that?”

“What’s wrong with this one?” He looked at Chris waiting for a response, but she just gave him a look in total disbelief, waiting for him to understand what was wrong with it, but he didn’t.

Chris sighed as she took the box from Dalton’s hands “The gift wrap you bought is so… her and how do you think she’s gonna feel when she opens it to see… this”

“Chris, you’re not helping” Dalton said as he took it back. Chris wasn’t trying to make him feel bad, she just wanted to save his relationship.

“It’s just that… It is so easy to buy a gift for her. And you’re right, you know her better than anyone else which is why I expected something that screamed Y/N”

“This doesn’t just scream Y/N, it screams us. Okay? We met at the bookshop, and she’s gonna love this” Dalton was trying to convince himself at this point and honestly he just wanted her to drop the subject, this is not why he asked for her help anyway.

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop” And she truly was, but the last thing she wanted was to see her best friend with a broken heart, especially when she thought about how tragic it would be to be dumped on their anniversary.

Chris finally gave it up and proceeded with the wrapping. She took her time, almost as if she was making sure it looked like it was a lego set, but it was impossible with the overly pink wrap and ribbons.

In the meantime, Dalton was getting ready. He meticulously selected his suit weeks ago and he was carefully smoothing out any wrinkles, he needed to make sure every little detail was perfect. With a touch of cologne and a well fixed hair he examined himself in the big mirror, rings adding a hint of sophistication to his already charming being.

“I never thought I would see you wearing an actual suit” Chris said standing from the desk.

“Does it look good?” He asked her, looking at his hands wondering if the rings were too much.

“It does, she’s gonna die when she sees those” She said pointing at his hands. Chris grabbed the gift and gave it to him, wanting to avoid the whole discourse again. “Thanks. I should probably get going” She could see Dalton sweating, his usual nervous self but like ten times worse. Chris nodded and walked towards the door.

“Good luck” She said before leaving.

As Dalton left his dorm, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness, not only about their date but also about the gift he was currently holding. He put everything in the car before making his way to Y/N’s dorm. Their dinner reservations were at 7 and they had just enough time to make it there. He was glad with his decision of renting a car, making it a lot easier and comfortable to get there.

Once he was at her door, he took one last deep breath and slowly knocked, anxiously waiting. She opened the door right away and a smile appeared in her lips, blushing as they quietly inspected each other’s outfits.

“Hi” Dalton was the first to speak “You look so beautiful” Her smile grew bigger and she grabbed Dalton’s hand to pull him inside, immediately finding his lips.

“You too, baby” She said as she pulled away “I can’t believe you’re wearing rings”

“Happy anniversary” They both said at the same time, causing them to chuckle. “Would love to stay but we should get going” He said, completely stepping out of her dorm “Dinner is at 7”

“Okay, I’ll just grab my things” She went back inside and took a few seconds to collect what she needed, coming out with a purse that matched her outfit perfectly and a gift bag.

They walked outside and Dalton guided her to the car, opening the door for her as he tried to hide his grin when he noticed how impressed Y/N was. It took around 30 minutes to get there and the whole drive was full of loving glances and nervous touches, especially from Y/N who couldn’t get over the fact that her boyfriend had rings, so instead of having both hands on the wheel Dalton placed one of them on her thigh as she fidgeted with the jewellery on his fingers.

They were planning on exchanging gifts after dinner, and the whole time he tried to stay positive about his choice. It did slip his mind from time to time when his brain was completely focused on the romantic dinner, the amazing set up and his beautiful girlfriend sitting across from him, but it came back with a nervous feeling any time he spotted the pink box. He had to admit, Chris did a fantastic job at wrapping it.

“Do you wanna open your gift?” Y/N excitedly asked him as the waiter took their dessert orders. She gave him the bag and he took it nervously. ‘What if her gift is a million times better than mine?’ He thought to himself.

Happiness swelled within him when he finally opened it and saw what was inside, pulling out an inkless drawing board that he has been wanting to get for a while and a scratch book with tons of memories of their relationship, from movie tickets, restaurant receips and dried flowers to pictures of them doing pretty much anything “You’re amazing” Is the only thing he could say. His mind was racing as he thought so many things at the same time, including how much he loved his present and how anxious he was that she was about to open hers.

“Uh- This is for you” He said, handing her the big present. Y/N looked really excited, admiring the pink wrap her boyfriend chose as she started to open it.

With trembling hands and a heart full of anticipation, Y/N carefully untied the ribbon and unwrapped the gift. As the wrapping paper fell away, her eyes widened in pure joy, revealing a genuine smile that decorated her face. She loved how thoughtful Dalton’s gift was, happily thinking about the story behind it.

Dalton however felt like he couldn’t read her expression as she looked at it for what it felt like an eternity. Dalton could hear his own heartbeat, and he swore he could even hear Y/N’s nervous breaths “I love it!” She exclaimed as she literally stood up to embrace him in a loving hug, pressing her soft lips against his.

“You do?” Dalton asked her, his eyes lighting up and mentally cursing Chris for letting her get into his head.

“Of course” She said with a big smile “I can’t believe you still think about these things”

“I think about anything and everything related to you at all times” This made her giggle and she blushed as she thought of her next words.

“I love you” She said, brushing his hair out of his face and behind his ear.

Dalton’s heart stopped at that moment. They had said those three words to each other before but they were a little drunk when it happened, so he thought that she didn’t mean it.

“I love you too” He replied with tears almost falling down his face. They kissed again, but this time with more affection. It didn’t last long since the waiter came back with their desserts, but their hands were holding for the rest of the night.

Dalton decided to take a moment to let his friend know how wrong she was, and after thinking of the perfect way to say ‘I told you so’ he landed on a simple text message.

Dalton: She just told me she loves me so joke’s on you

#i was very tempted to use a gif from the whale #cause of the suit #but everyone got confused last time I did so I decided against it #also i'm running out of Dalton gifs #dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert fanfic #dalton lambert imagines #ty simpkins #insidious the red door #insidious 5 #insidious

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dark-night-hero · 1 year

Text

Imagine Kozume Kenma meeting his significant other for the first time.

Imagine you, a gamer yourself happened to get stuck at a certain level that causes you to get frustrated because no matter how hard you try, you just can't do it. Leaving you to search your way on the net, leaving your pride behind as you do so. That's were you first saw him. Coming across at what it seems to you was still a small time streamer but his contents were actually helpful.

Imagine being meeting him through Kuroo, you who happened to be one of his close friends back in the university. Being an introvert person you are, you're to be expected to get picked up by an extrovert person like Kuroo.

Imagine as you were watching a stream you have missed the day before, headset on as you made your way into the university, being a freshman year you are, you really can't afford to missed nor be late for your lectures. Kuroo who happened to be in the same course and is of course a classmate of your happened to be arriving the same time as you suddenly approached your unsuspecting form.

"Oh it's Kenma." "Kodzuken you mean?" "Yeah, Kenma." He pointed at at the screen. "Uh? It's not Kenma, it's Kodzuken, Kuroo-san" You roll your eyes. "Yeah I know, but seriously (First name) he's Kenma." "Oh really how do you know?" You spoke sarcastically in which he just shrug and answered, "He's a friend of mine." Oh really? As if you'll believe that.

Imagine as months have gone by ever since that day and here you are at a cafe on your comfortable casual clothes as you wait for Kuroo and his friend. Ordering one cup of americano to keep your sanity, having many pending projects to do but still, you cannot ignore how Kuroo have been wanting to introduce his friend 'Kenma' to you.

Imagine as you took a sip of your coffee, you felt a tap on your shoulder and there is your classmate in his glory, a hooded guy behind him.

"Hey, sorry we're late, Kenma just finished his volleyball practice you see. Ah, this is Kenma by the way or should I say Kodzuken?" Kuroo smiled sheepishly at you.

Imagine the way your eyes widen, wanting to say something as you do recognize the man right behind him, now walking across you to take a seat. "What? Cat got your tongue?" Kuroo chuckle as he sat down beside the one and only Kodzuken.

That's when you clear your throat, rolling your eyes at Kuroo, you put your attention on the guy right beside him who seems to be more interested on the menu rather than the two of you, look like not wanting to be here and would rather go home in a minute and well, you can feel him.

Imagine not to long after that, Kuroo stood up on his seat, going on to order some snacks for them leaving the two of you alone. Clearing your throat, "So.. Kenma-san, right?" That made him look at you, he who was focused on his console just a few second ago. "I'm (First name)(Lastname)." You spoke with an awkward yet genuine smile as you offer him a handshake.

Imagine Kenma, dragged upon his will on his meet up find himself looking up on his game as you spoke. Speaking awkwardly yet trying to be friendly with him. It was cute, he thought honestly. "Kozume Kenma." He corrected, holding his console in one hand as the other reach out to yours.

"Not gonna lie, I has never expected Kuroo-san was speaking the truth of being friends with you." "You know me?" "Oh yes, I watched your streams, Kuroo happened to see me and well, here we are" You said with a sigh, leaning back into your seat.

"Ah!" You suddenly realized something before looking at him who seems to be startled by your sudden outburst. "Thank you." You spoke genuinely with a smile. "I was really stuck on this level but thanks to your stream I manage to clear it. Your streams are amazing." You smile at him showing him your console of God knows where you pull that from, shoving on his face.

Imagine him, startled but then he laugh. He chuckle, hand went to cover his lips upon doing so, Kuroo just arrived with drinks and snacks on a tray, smiling but obviously confused. It's been a while since he saw Kenma like that. "What's-"

Imagine before Kuroo could say something, Kenma lean forward, hood falling back wards revealing his half ponytail pudding like hair color as he place his arms on the table, looking at you with those cat like amber iris, he lean on the palm of his hand and with a lazy smirk smile on his face.

"You're cute, do you know that?"

Imagine as you had a flabbergasted look on your face, eyes wide as bloody slowly crept up your cheeks, Kenma gave Kuroo a side glance as if asking how do you know my type? In which Kuroo just reply with a shrug, it's just a coincidence. Making Kenma roll his eyes at his childhood friend, putting his attention back at you who happened to avoid his glaze, how interesting.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2022°

#haikyuu kenma #kozume kenma #kenma fluff #kenma hcs #kenma scenario #hq kenma #kenma x you #kozume kenma x reader #kenma #kenma x reader #haikyū!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#i think kenma s very straightforward to someone he likes #oh well

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missmeinyourbones · 2 years

Note

Gojo + “He'd better lock it down, or I won't stick around” please :)

16. HE’D BETTER LOCK IT DOWN, OR I WON’T STICK AROUND (satoru gojo x reader)

for L’s lover event! based on these prompts

It was a minuscule comment in a fleeting conversation, not something he was actually supposed to hear, let alone take to heart.

But when Gojo was doing what we does best (sticking his nose in places it doesn’t belong), he had overheard the chat between you and Utahime.

He wasn't eavesdropping, he swears. He just likes to listen to you talk—likes to hear how your voice fluctuates when you hear something interesting or exciting. How it evens out when you're bored or losing interest. How your breathing hitches at the news of bad fortune or ill will.

He was supposed to be getting into the shower—the water was running and everything—but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t get enough of you, wanted to annoy you one last time before being separated for a whole fifteen minutes.

You were in his kitchen brewing a pot of coffee for the two of you when he sauntered down the hallway, halting behind the connecting wall when he heard Utahime’s voice on speaker phone, paired with a mention of himself.

“Are you and that idiot official yet?” her nosey voice echoes from the speaker and into his home. Something about it’s frequency today is giving him more of a headache than usual.

“I don’t know, we don’t really have a label on it.”

Okay, true, Satoru thinks. He never officially asked you out, but granted, he didn’t think he had to verbally say it—he thought his actions spoke louder than his mouth ever could (which is pretty loud). I mean, when was the last time he saw someone more than once? Or the last time he let someone stay the night? When was the last time he let someone make him coffee in the morning? The last time he wanted to be around someone every single waking moment of the day?

His brow furrows as he continues to ponder it. No, he’s never said it, but didn’t you feel it? Feel his love and adoration and pathetic want for you? He’d never stopped to think that maybe, you didn’t.

“Still?” he hears her groan from the other end of the call, “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, well—” he hears you shuffle around in the kitchen as you open a cabinet, grabbing two coffee mugs, “he'd better lock it down soon, or I won't stick around much longer.”

Satoru’s heart sinks at the words leaving your lips—though they were hidden behind a light-hearted and sarcastic tone, they still left your lips, nonetheless. He’d never imagined you even pondering them, let alone speaking them aloud.

He barely hears Utahime chuckle and utter a “I’ll slap him for you, if you want” before he’s sulking down the hallway and into the shower. Letting the stream hit him directly on the flat of his head, he feels lost. He ponders your words—how you didn’t mean for him to hear them, if a part of you truly meant what you said.

He’s off for the rest of the day, weirder than usual. He’s practically silent as he drinks his coffee, aside from a few yeah’s and mhm’s uttered in response to your work stories or jokes of him hogging the bed last night.

While you gathered that he was upset about something, you figured you’d give him some space. Let him feel it out, handle it on his own, before pressing him too hard.

It’s not until you’re climbing underneath his covers to go to bed that night when he finally utters more than three words to you at once. Lucky you, this time it’s four.

“Did you mean it?”

His back is facing you as he lays on his side, facing the cornered wall. He doesn’t move to address you or look you in the eye, he just continues to lay there, still as a statue. You wouldn't even know he was breathing if he hadn't said something.

“Mean what?” you gently try, sitting up a bit in hopes that the sudden movement will force him to face you, look at you.

It doesn't.

“What you said to Utahime, about not sticking around,” he bitterly spews. He’s not sure if he means it to come across as cruel as it does, but he’s happy that it makes his point clear. He’s upset, with you.

The pieces start to connect in your mind. He’d heard the phone call—something that was supposed to be a fleeting tease—and it had stuck with him.

“Not necessarily,” you shrug honestly, “it was a bit of a joke.”

“A bit?” he spits.

You sigh and press a hand to the blade of his shoulder softly. The touch makes him jolt a little bit, but prompts him to sit up, to face you.

“I don’t want to leave you,” you honestly speak, looking in his eyes as he tries to follow along, “but I don’t know where you stand.”

Satoru says nothing as he listens to you, but his eyes slightly squint at your words, like he doesn’t quite understand what you mean by them.

“You don’t talk to me about these things,” you admit, suddenly feeling extremely exposed by the cold tension suffocating the room, “I don’t know how you feel about me, sometimes.”

Satoru’s heart sinks for the second time today, within just a few measly hours. He shuffles a bit and sits up, eye level with you as he brings his hands close to your face. He cradles you in his hands, pressing his forehead against yours as he closes his eyes and swallows hard.

“I’m sorry,” he admits, “this is new to me.”

He doesn't open his eyes just yet, but he feels you nod in his hands. He hears your tiny but honest mumbles of it’s alright’s and me too’s.

He opens his eyes to find yours boring back into his soul, like you can see right right through him—past his excuses and bouncing facades.

“But trust me when I say that I know that I love you,” he pines, “and I want you around me for a long, long time.”

Your hand on the back of his neck slightly ushering him towards you is enough for him to lean in and kiss you—he doesn’t need to be told twice. He feels you deflate as you smile into the kiss, feels your grin widen as you blush and clash teeth.

“Okay,” you whisper into his mouth, “s’all I wanted.”

He grins at how your breath feels on his chilled skin, how your words taste on his lips and down his throat. He ushers you to lay back into his—your—bed as he deepens the kiss.

“And just so we’re clear,” he asserts through kisses of tongue and spit strings, “this is me officially locking you down, ya hear me?”

Your laugh sounds like a melody as he attempts to swallow it whole, tongue delving further and further down your throat as he wants to relish every single inch of you—wants you to never again doubt his want, his need, for you.

“Sure, Satoru,” you beam, “loud and clear.”

#gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo fic #satoru fic #gojo blurb #satoru blurb #gojo fluff #satoru fluff #gojo angst #satoru angst #gojo drabble #satoru drabble #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk writing #L's LOVER event!

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jaozendry · 1 year

Text

"I'm so into bad boys": PART 2

Pairing: Tyler Galpin x Addams!Reader

Tags: @ilovexavierthrope @nsfw-kill-me-now @taylorsreputationsversion @queensarmy

PART 1

Warnings: murder, death, threats, possessive love, spoilers

OTHER CHARACTERS: Principal Weems, Sheriff Galpin, Thing

Summary: After successfully covering up Thornill's/Laurel Gates' murder, the two of you try to convince Principal Weems to let Tyler into Nevermore. Little did you know, it would be quite a hassle.

______________________________________________________________

"Principal Weems." you call while storming into her office. "I need to speak with you." you say while she sighs. "Y/N Addams, just because you were right about Laurel Gates' true identity doesn't mean you can just barge into my office whenever you please." You cross you arms. "I always have, Principal." She sighs once more. "What is this about?" she asks, annoyed. "This is about Tyler Galpin. I would like you to enroll him in the school." She tilts her head. "Sheriff Galpin's son?" she asks. "I thought he was a Normie."

The door opens up behind you, revealing Tyler. "Your guess was wrong." you declare. "He is actually a Hyde, but you knew that, didn't you?" you explain confidently while the Principal's eyes twitch in anger. "Yes, I suspected his mother to be a Hyde, and I suspected him of being the same." she finally admits. "Then why didn't you tell my dad? Not even me?!" he snaps. You caress his face to calm him down and preventing him from turning into the monster that he really is. He holds your hand tightly while the Principal looks at the two of you, feeling a mix of confusion and utter disbelief, which quickly reverts to anger. "I did not tell you nor your father of your true form to protect the school from harm. If they find out a Hyde has been living in Jericho for years, Nevermore is done." she explains, holding back the urge to scream. "So basically, you only care about your reputation." you add, smirking.

She stands up in response while Tyler walks in to separate you from her. "What do you want?" Principal Weems asks in anger. "I want Tyler to be enrolled in the school." you reply, standing in front of Tyler, reassuring him by caressing his arm. "He can learn so much about himself here. At least, more than he did with Laurel Gates." Principal Weems sighs once again. "I warned you about the dangers Hydes present, Mr./Ms. Addams. I will not have a Hyde roam freely in Nevermore again." she explains, crossing her arms. "It's that or we burn Nevermore to the ground." you reply, holding Tyler's arm. "Three incompetent Normies snuck under your nose and crashed the Rave'n dance. What do you think we can do? She twitches her eyes in anger while Tyler smirks behind you. "Do you want to run the risk of finding out?" you threaten the Principal, leaving her speechless for a good couple of seconds.

"Fine. He will join this year's current semester." You look at Tyler, smirking in victory. "But, breathe a word to anyone about Mr. Galpin being a Hyde and you are both expelled." she adds menacingly. "We'll see." you reply, leaving for the door. "Come on, Tyler." you tell him, who's still staring at Principal Weems with dark eyes. He finally obeys and joins you at the door. "Thank you for everything, Principal Weems." you say sarcastically while leaving the door shut.

______________________________________________________________

"Sheriff Galpin?" Principal Weems asks on the phone. "We have an issue." The sheriff sighs, expecting the worst. "What is it this time?" he asks, annoyed. "Y/N Addams and your son have approached me about Mr. Galpin's enrollment into Nevermore." she explains while Thing secretely listens to the conversation. "What the hell?" Sheriff Galpin asks. "He never told me anything about it. How the hell did he get in anyway?" he asks, putting down his pen. "That's the problem, they threatened the whole school." she replies. "And you complied?!" he snaps. "Oh for God's sake, Weems." Principal Weems sighs in the phone. "It was for both Jericho's and Nevermore's sake, Sheriff. I ask you to come to Nevermore tomorrow. We will have a talk with your son and resolve this issue." she adds, Thing still eavesdropping on the conversation. "Fine." he replies, putting down the phone.

"Goddamn you, Y/N Addams."

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coconutcordiale · 2 years

Text

steady pt two (what if i'm the one, but you're not?)

pt one | pt two | pt three | masterlist | prequel

pairing- rooster x female bartender!reader (no y/n)

synopsis-

“He won’t ever make you feel like I do.”

Part of you wants to strangle him for being right, for highlighting every part of your soul that still believes it was made for him with nine little words.

“Maybe that’s the point.”

warnings- angst with a happy ending, austin tx slander because i'm still annoyed that glens a ut fan, one joke about doing drugs, one dark adjacent joke about murdering an annoying rooster, drinking as a coping mechanism, past infidelity (no current cheating!), this is slow burn, heartbreak/healing, friends to lovers, smut in next chapter

length- 5.4k

an- actually why is the wedding in tx, idk. mostly because i feel weird making fun of states i've never lived in (which only leaves tx & ca) but also i'm moving and i'm gonna miss tx so this is how i deal, by making vaguely insulting jokes. austin is actually a very nice place guys i'm sorry lol

also I did a lightning fast google search of the naval air station in key west so apologies if it's completely inaccurate that rooster could be teaching there but lets be real this story is like...barely about tgm and more about rooster's mustache

d a y 1 3 9

As far as Bradley is concerned, the problem with you is that you’re far too magnetic. He’s constantly fighting the pull of you, the urge to show up on your doorstep and share his vinyl with you.

Maybe it’s because he has more free time now, going from living with someone to spending his nights alone.

He tells himself it’s that. It’d be easier if it was only that.

It’s probably because you’re quick on your feet, sarcastic as hell, and your new favorite past times include insulting his favorite patterned shirt and the fact that he loves BBQ Chicken pizza and hates The Office. For some reason, he wants nothing more than to hear you tell him all his opinions are wrong. He always feels one step behind your wit, one beat too slow in your dancing banter.

Occasionally, he’ll celebrate getting in a good jab about your uncultured music taste.

It reminds him, sometimes, of a certain blonde pilot he flew with at TOPGUN. His good qualities, at least.

It’s a good thing you’re a hell of a lot nicer than that guy.

He doesn’t know if it’s the pilot in him, the part of him that won’t quit, but he finds himself wanting to break down the walls you’ve spent so long building around your heart.

Wants to peel back those layers, wants you to know not everyone will hurt you like whoever it is that you’re running from.

Can’t help but try to take care of you. He doesn’t know why when you seem plenty capable of taking care of yourself.

Maybe that’s why he suspects you need it the most.

(It’s not his friendliest of instincts, but he can normally keep himself in check.)

He knows you deserve it, at the very least. Because for all your whining about BBQ chicken pizza not actually being pizza, but instead, a crime against nature, when you knock on his door with Pizza Joe’s in your hand, he’s certain he’ll open the box to see one half of it covered in BBQ sauce. And you won’t even make fun of him for it.

It doesn’t stop him from ribbing you for asking him to play something from this century, Jesus Christ Bradshaw, more Righteous Brothers, really?

He puts on The Beach Boys just to be a dick.

“You should expand your horizons,” he suggests, halfway through California Dreamin’, thoughtfully chewing his pizza. “There’s a lot to learn about music if you’re willing to broaden your tastes. We could start easy, with the Doors or something.”

You roll your eyes, stretching out on his rug like a cat. “I already like the Doors, you pretentious snob. Besides, music is more of a visceral thing for me. Not an intellectual learning experience.”

Bradley furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“This is probably weird to you, because you’ve made it your life’s mission to learn every instrument on planet Earth, but for me, music is more instinctive. I like what I like because it makes me feel something.”

“Like what?”

You make a thoughtful humming noise like you’re really mulling it over.

There are more questions on the tip of his tongue, but something has been telling him since you started hanging out that the way to get you to talk is not going to be badgering you.

“How do you explain how music makes you feel? Isn’t the point that it’s indescribable? It’s a feeling, that moment when goose bumps shiver up your legs, something about two sounds coming together that gives you an unprecedented emotional reaction.”

“I’d say that was a pretty good description.”

“Jackass,” you snort, throwing a wadded-up napkin at his head.

He dodges it easily, because, hello fighter pilot, but your words stick with him. It’s uncanny to know someone who probably loves music as much as he does but in a distinctly different way.

You seem more reluctant to head to work than usual, and he tries not to let himself feel too proud about the fact that he might have something to do with that.

Partially because you’re clearly going to be late if you don’t get going soon, and mostly because he’s not done spending time with you yet, Bradley offers to head in with you, citing he could benefit from having to walk the couple miles back to the apartment having skipped his run this morning.

Bradley rarely visits you at work and he tries to tell himself it’s because you guys spend enough time at each other’s apartments, that he’s already skirting around crossing the friend line by always showing up at your front door as soon as he leaves base.

The real reason, however, is that Bradley is terrified of Beth.

“Look,” Beth starts, steely edge to her tone after you’ve walked to the back grumbling about stupid tourist bars and their garnishes to find maraschino cherries or drink umbrellas or whatever else you need. “Don’t you dare think about hurting her. If there’s even a chance of that, walk away now.”

Bradley holds his hands up, trying to seem like a nonthreat and she shoots him another look.

“We’re friends,” he defends. “Both still healing.”

She ignores him. “You weren’t around yet. When it was really bad. When I had to pick her up off the bathroom floor and force feed her because she wouldn’t eat. When she’d get drunk and cry until she could barely breathe. If you make her go through that again, I’ll make sure even the Navy can’t help you.”

He doesn’t doubt it.

“You haven’t been here much longer than Cali, have you?” Beth asks suddenly. You must be back from your tiny umbrella quest.

You come into his line of sight to flip her off at the nickname before tossing the umbrellas into their holder, a little more aggressively than he thinks the situation warrants.

Bradley bites back a laugh at your clear vendetta against cute, colorful drink décor. That earns a pointed look in his direction, but he just smiles amicably until you give into his warmth and he sees you fighting a smile back.

“I miss working in a dive bar where I could tell the customers to fuck off.” You joke, staring at the ceiling wistfully.

He rolls his eyes, biting back a chuckle, and turns back to Beth. “No, only been here a few months.”

“I take it your ex didn’t like Florida.”

You snort from where you’re setting up the garnish caddy, but Beth and Bradley ignore you. He knows you’ve heard this before, that your opinion on Lauren isn’t exactly fond.

“She didn’t seem to be a fan, no. That’s probably why she left so quickly.”

It’s not like he doesn’t miss Lauren. He does. In the way you miss having summers off when you were a kid or Saturday morning cartoons. He misses her because he spent so much time around her, because it was routine to miss her, but it’s no burden to live without her.

They were together for a long time, and the breakup did take him by surprise. But now that it’s done, he realizes she was right in leaving, that they were little more than roommates by the time they moved down here.

She’s like that missing space in your gums after getting a tooth pulled. You’re better off, having had the tooth pulled, but in the weeks after the operation, you run your tongue over the empty space, over and over again, trying to get used to its absence.

Eventually, you will, and it’ll be more right than things were before. He just hasn’t gotten there yet.

“I like Florida, though,” he finds himself telling Beth. “And I’m enjoying teaching replacement pilots. It’s better than Lemoore or Fallon or wherever else they might send me, anyhow.”

“I mean look at this hideous shirt,” you chime in. “He was practically born to be here.”

“Excuse me?” Bradley gasps, hand going to his chest in mock offense. “I thought you liked my eclectic old man style.”

“Rooster, we’re friends, so I’m going to be brutally honest right now. Your style blew past eclectic years ago, it’s incoherent. That shirt has birds on it. Where do you even find these things?”

Bradley’s trying to keep the smile off his face, but he doesn’t think you realize this is the first time since he stumbled into your apartment a couple of months ago that you’ve used his callsign.

“What?” You ask finally.

“Nothing.” He grins, something like pride and unmistakable fondness budding in his chest as another layer peels back.

d a y 1 6 5

Just like last time, the phone call starts with your name. Your breath hitches, the world momentarily stops spinning on its axis. He doesn’t say sweetheart, doesn’t use his soft and honeyed voice to make you melt.

“I know I shouldn’t be calling,” you hear Jake say slowly as if he’s taking the time to enunciate each syllable.

“Have you been drinking?” You ask, chest tightening.

“Maybe.”

Your hands are already trembling. You don’t know why you can’t just hang up, block his number, do something, anything that doesn’t pry this wound open again.

“If you know you shouldn’t be calling then why are you?”

“M’drunk and I needed to hear your voice.”

“Jake—”

“How am I s'posed to let you go?” He asks, the crack in his voice corresponding with the break in your heart. “Don’t want to lose you.”

“You never really had me.”

That’s the thorn of it, isn’t it? You always considered yourself his, you were willing to give him all of you, but it was futile from the start. He couldn’t really have you since his plate was already full.

“Yeah, guess that’s true.” He exhales audibly. “Wish I had something else to say besides I’m sorry.”

“You are a lot of things, Jake. We both are. Sorry isn’t even ranked.”

You toast Bradley with your whiskey bottle when he gets back from work, walking through your front door still in his flight suit. “I know Beth said you didn’t have to deal with me at my worst, so I thought I’d grace you with the lovely opportunity of finding me drunk on the floor.”

The best thing about Bradley is that he doesn’t even question it, just ambles over to you, settling in close with his back against the wall.

“It’s been six months. Look at you, all healed and moved on, while I’m still a wreck.”

He shrugs. “That probably just means I’m still in denial.”

You make a face at that, but you’re too emotionally wrecked to touch it right now.

“Did something happen?”

“He called me.”

The breath he takes in would be deafening even if he wasn’t mere inches away from you. “That’s pretty unfair of him.”

The truth spills from your lips, feeling odd and out of place after having spent so much time lying to yourself and everyone else about Jake. “Wasn’t the first time either.”

Bradley’s eyebrows raise in surprise at that. “You didn’t tell me. Or Beth, I’m guessing.”

You sigh. “I knew she would tell me to block his number.”

“Which you don’t want to do.”

It’s not a question.

It’s never a question with Bradley because he always knows.

You lean your head on his shoulder, nose crinkling a little in displeasure at the smell of his flight suit. “The first time he called to apologize. It was nice to hear, even if it doesn’t make up for everything.”

Bradley doesn’t answer, just takes the bottle from your hands so he can take a swig.

You wonder, absently, if he’s allowed to drink in uniform.

“He said a bunch of fucked up stuff to me the night before I left. That it was just sex, that our relationship was all in my head, basically. It was—he just wanted to hurt me.”

“He lied.”

You shrug. “I’d like to think so. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? He still said it. But since I’m working through the stages of grief, I’ve now rebounded to anger.”

“You can’t stay mad forever,” he reasons. “You have to forgive him eventually.”

“It’s either be mad or start doing drugs,” you say, shrugging one shoulder. “Being mad is cheaper.”

That earns a dry chuckle and even your alcohol-addled brain preens a little at your constant ability to make Bradley laugh.

“It’s easier,” you admit quietly. “When I’m mad at him. It’s easier not to wish things were different, not to wish we could’ve worked out.”

“You mean it’s easier to move on if he’s a piece of shit.”

“Yes.”

“Well, he is, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

The air is still heavy and serious between you, his face twisting as you watch him mull over his next words, choosing them carefully. “It’s not a good idea, to keep talking to him. To keep entertaining this.”

Logically you knew that, of course, but his words feel like a bucket of ice water being poured on you anyways.

You’re feeling defensive, and you know you’re not being fair to Bradley, know your anger at Jake is taking over this conversation, but you can’t stop yourself, words tumbling out harsher than you mean them to.

“I just want closure,” you say, words slicing through the air sharply.

You could kiss Bradley for how mildly he takes your tone, how easily he absorbs the edges in your words. “Only you can give yourself closure.”

You know he’s right.

“You have to stop answering,” he says firmly, probably unconsciously leaning into your thigh where it’s pressed next to his own on your kitchen floor.

You look down, staring at the green material of his flight suit, the muscle that hides beneath the baggy material, wondering how it’s strong enough to hold the pieces of you together.

Jake calls again three days later. You hand your phone to Bradley, who takes one look at the DO NOT ANSWER flashing on the screen, before sliding the phone into his pocket and dragging you outside to go to the beach.

That’s the problem with Bradley, you never have to ask, and he always does right by you. He always knows.

You feel like you should be doing more to return the favor. You know he’s going through shit of his own, even if he doesn’t say anything, even if he always shows up to be your rock.

“I want you to be happy, you know that right?”

He’s staring out at the horizon, refusing to look you in the eye. “I’m fine.”

You roll your eyes. “We both know that’s not the same thing.”

His lips press together in a hard line. It’s impressive, really, how much derision he manages to convey in one minuscule facial expression.

“Is this necessary? Do we need to ruin this peaceful moment on the beach talking about my emotions?”

Something you’ve begun to notice is that your hands are always steady around Rooster, even when he shuts down and annoys you enough to consider cold-blooded homicide.

“I’m sorry, all right? I wasn’t trying to make you mad. But I know what it’s like, to go through the motions, barely keeping your head above the surface. You have to find something to help pull you out of the water. Flying, your friends, me, Beth, your fucking plants, I don’t know. We need you. You’re not a burden because you need us back.”

He slots his fingers into yours, squeezing them in a silent understanding, a silent apology. Your heart hammers in your chest at the gesture, trying to ignore the intimacy of it.

The problem with Bradley is that the possibility of him is terrifying.

Friends you can do. Friends is easy, friends doesn’t threaten to shatter you irreparably and incite you to move across the country. As long as you can keep Bradley squarely in the friends box, there’s nothing to worry about.

Even if, sometimes, you wish there was something more to worry about.

You’ve been drifting at sea for so long, nothing to tether you, nothing to hold onto. Here, in Florida, away from almost everything you’ve ever known you want nothing more than to keep your feet firmly in the sand.

Bradley is like flying high above the clouds, miles away from the ground.

d a y 2 5 4

You hear a crash, a stream of expletives, a door slamming all the way from downstairs in your bathroom. You’re upstairs before you can think better of it, before you can consider that he might need space.

“Bradley?” You ask tentatively, knocking gently on his front door.

He looks wrecked when he opens it, face splotchy and red, hand at his side still clenched in anger.

“I’m sorry for being so loud,” he breathes. “Did I scare you?”

A little, but you can tell he feels bad, so you’re not super interested in being honest right now.

“I was just surprised,” you respond slowly, which is true. “Usually, it’s me that’s doing chaotic things.”

He smiles tightly and you edge your way in, gently pulling him to the couch with you.

“Nice change of pace. I like being the one with their shit together occasionally.” You knock your shoulders together gently and instantly feel him relax where your arms are touching. “Wanna talk about it?”

He scrubs a hand over his face. “There’s this wedding.”

You let out a breath. Sometimes your life really does feel like a cheesy rom-com. “Let me guess, you need a date.”

He nods. “Lauren was supposed to go with me, I already RSVP’d with a plus one.”

You don’t know what to say, so you take a page out of the Bradley playbook and stay silent, letting him ruminate.

“I had a shit day at work, then came home to a reminder about this dumb wedding. I know it’s stupid to be this upset. It’s not like I wish she was going with me…it’s just going alone, having to explain to everyone why she’s not there, I don’t know. It’s hard not to feel left out, being by yourself at stuff like this.”

“Feels like the whole world is set up to make you feel bad for being single.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he agrees, putting his face in his hands.

“I could go with you,” you suggest slowly. “I’m not going to pretend to be your girlfriend or anything, I mean I’m sure some people will assume, but whatever. At least then you don’t have to go alone.”

“It’s in Austin.”

Damn it.

“Texas,” you say flatly.

“I’ll buy your plane ticket, obviously,” he says quickly as if that’s the problem here.

“I can’t believe I offered to do this without asking where the wedding was,” you grumble, shaking your head. “I’m way too good of a friend.”

“Come on, Cali, it’ll be fun.” His mood has practically done a 180. “We can go line dancing, or whatever it is they do down there.”

“Nobody from California says Cali,” you protest for what seems like the thousandth time. “Are you sure you’re from there?”

He rolls his eyes but otherwise ignores your nickname slander.

You sigh. You already knew you were going to say yes.

d a y 2 7 5

“I’m gonna strangle Rooster when he gets back.”

Beth laughs.

“Austin is so much like California, you’ll love it,” you mimic. “I’ll fucking end him.”

“You Californians are such snobs,” she sniffs.

“Beth,” you whine into the phone. “It’s one billion degrees here and there isn’t an ocean in sight. Just some river full of bacteria that’ll give you hand foot and mouth disease. Or something.”

When you get out of the shower Bradley’s back and he’s already in his choker whites, so it’s pretty much impossible for you to be mad at him.

“About the wedding.”

You look at him expectantly. His tone tells you this can’t be good, but you’re pretty distracted by how tan he looks in his white uniform.

“It’s gonna be a lot of Navy people. I met Brandon way back in API. I haven’t seen him since before I went to TOPGUN, so I’m surprised I even got invited, to be honest.”

Somewhere in your mind alarms are going off, sirens blaring. “You were in TOPGUN?”

Rooster squints. “You know what TOPGUN is?”

“God, Bradley it’s a good thing you’re pretty. I literally told you I grew up in San Diego. Also, everyone has seen that stupid movie.”

“You hate Tom Cruise. He gives you hives to even think about,” he comments, as if that’s what’s relevant at this moment.

You can feel your eyes rolling of their own volition. “Hence why I called the movie stupid. Don’t change the subject. How has this not come up before?”

He shrugs. “You don’t seem to like military pilots that much, so I try not to remind you. I just thought you might want some warning. In case you didn’t realize what kind of wedding you were walking into.”

“And yet, you waited until we were almost there to mention it.”

“I was scared you’d change your mind about coming. I wasn’t really sure—you’ve never told me why it is you hate pilots.” He makes a face, and you feel kind of bad for letting him think that you’d bail on him over this.

“Specifically, I’m from Coronado. Take a wild guess,” you tell him eventually, wanting to smack your forehead on the dash of the rental car.

Something knowing is lighting up in Rooster’s chocolate eyes and you don’t like it one bit. “Wait, the dive you worked at before was the Hard Deck?”

“Yes, with Penny.”

He lights up at that. “She’s the best. That means you must know Mav…”

Bradley trails off as he watches you finally give in and put your head on the dash, shutting your eyes against this information.

You let out a sigh of frustration because what are the odds, and how did I not put this together before?

He furrows his brows, asking a silent question.

“Penny told me that Maverick knew someone when I moved. Wanted to give them my number, in case I needed anything. I said no because I needed a break from fighter pilots.”

His lips form an ‘o’ in realization under that stupid pornstache as he picks up what you’re putting down.

“Yet here we are,” you finish, hand flourishing in a gesture that hopefully gets your point across.

Rooster grins at that and it’s so endearing it makes you forget what a complete clusterfuck you’re in for a second. “It’s fate, baby.”

You snort. “It’s fate, seriously?”

Looking out the window, you think maybe you’ll get lucky. Bradley’s a few years older than Jake, they probably don’t even know each other. The Navy can’t be that small.

And even if it is, it’s fine, right? You’ve done some serious work these past nine months. You’ve cried, you’ve screamed, you’ve tried your best to stop being angry.

You’ve grown, you know that you have.

It doesn’t hurt, doesn’t wrench your chest, to think about Jake anymore, so if you have to see him, you can pretend like everything’s fine for a few hours. Right?

Wrong.

Unfortunately for you, imagining seeing Jake Seresin is nothing like seeing Jake Seresin.

The moment you do, panic rips through your chest. You’re glad you’re sitting in a pew already, certain if you were standing, you’d have crumpled to the ground the moment you clocked piercing green eyes and golden hair.

He looks gorgeous, because of course he does, because no one looks more like they should be in an ad for the Navy than Jake in his dress whites. People would be tripping over themselves to sign up if the Navy were smart enough to cash in on his arrogance and All-American good looks.

“Bradley, I can’t…I’m so sorry, I’m sure you hate me, we just got here, you don’t want to leave, obviously you don’t, but I have to…” You’re rambling, you know you are, but one second after seeing Jake you’re already trembling. You’re itching, to get up, run away, leave the state and never see anyone in this room ever again.

“Hey, hold on,” he says softly, putting a hand on your shoulder to keep you from getting up from your seat. “Take a breath. This’ll be easier if you’re not trying to have my part of the conversation too.”

Deep breaths. Stop freaking out before someone notices.

“I slept with him,” you admit, barely audible for fear of Bradley actually hearing you. You thank your lucky stars that no one seems to be near you to hear the admission of crimes you’ve been choking on for months now.

“Who?” He follows the way your eyes flit up to the blonde across the room and immediately back down, terrified. “Hangman?”

Rooster looks downright confused, clearly not fully understanding the situation.

“I knew he was married,” you whisper, unable to meet Bradley’s eyes.

You’re gripping his arms so hard that they must hurt, but he doesn’t say anything. You just hope you don’t have anything on your hands that’ll mar his pristine uniform.

“I knew he was married and had a child and I still slept with him, for months, and I thought that he loved me. I thought he’d leave her, even though he told me he wouldn’t. Because I’m an absolute moron.”

“Seresin,” he says slowly, not putting the pieces together as quickly as you’d like, but he’s getting there, “is your ex.”

“Yes,” you whisper.

Expression unreadable, Rooster takes a long look at you before standing, quickly pulling you to his side. You’re sure he can feel the constant, low vibrations running through your body with you this close, can practically taste the anxiety in your exhaled breaths.

“Let’s get some air.”

You go with him blindly, staring at the floor.

Right, left, right, left.

“I’m sorry,” he says when you’re outside in the sticky Texas air. “I’m dense, sometimes. Even after what we talked about in the car, I assumed your ex wouldn’t be here, because anyone here that graduated from TOPGUN probably did so years ago.”

“I could’ve mentioned it was Jake,” you respond delicately. “I was kind of holding onto hope that you didn’t know him.”

“Still.” He cups your cheeks in his large hands, warm eyes tracing over you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you to come with me tonight, that was selfish.”

“You’re sorry?” You ask incredulously, finally registering that he’s apologized to you twice in the span of a minute. “I don’t—how can you stand to look at me?”

“We’ve all done things we’re not proud of.” He waves it off like it’s nothing. Like it’s not something that makes you nauseous every time you think about it. Like you don’t have nightmares about having to face Jake’s family. “We don’t have to stay.”

Here he is again, doing right by you without so much as a request.

“No,” you say firmly, rolling your shoulders back, determination taking over. You can do this.

You know what it took, for Bradley to ask you to come with him, to admit that he didn’t want to do this alone. You won’t let Jake take that away from you, your unspoken pact to be each other’s support systems when it seems the rest of the world has left you to pick up the pieces of your broken hearts alone.

The night goes about as well as you can hope for, given the circumstances. You recognize a few people from the Hard Deck, but the large majority are people you don’t know.

Jake does a double take when he sees you with Bradley, but in classic Hangman fashion quickly recovers, placing that charming smile right back on his lips. You thank the powers that be that he seems to be alone, not sure what you’d do if he was here with Katelyn besides start praying that the ground opens to swallow you both whole.

You try your hardest not to look at him but you’re not sure you manage it. It doesn’t help that when you sneak looks at him, most of the time, he’s already glancing at you.

There’s a part of you that thinks it will always be connected to Jake, the part of you that knows you’re cut from the same cloth. It makes you feel off-kilter, still being drawn to someone you once loved more than you ever thought yourself capable of.

The anger must be radiating off your date in waves because Jake carefully avoids you two for most of the night.

Until the end, as you’re getting ready to leave, when you hear Jake’s voice from behind you, calling your name.

“Can I have a word?” Without him, his expression clearly requests.

“You’ve had plenty, I’d say,” Rooster grits out. He seems so large right now, anger allowing him to tower over Jake even though they’re nearly the same height.

“Rooster, it’s okay,” surprising yourself at how calm you feel and squeezing his arm, comforting. “I’ll meet you outside.”

His face goes through a wide range of awkward facial expressions before he nods curtly, turning his back to Hangman without another word.

It’s awkward, to say the least.

“You look beautiful,” Hangman says finally, soft like he always is with you, except when he’s drunk and plotting ways to make your chest split in two.

You nearly roll your eyes at him. “That’s what you want to talk about? How good I look in this dress?”

He clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “He’s why you stopped returning my calls.”

“You shouldn’t have been calling me in the first place,” you snap, irritation laced in every word.

You’re proud of yourself for your tone, having spent those last few weeks around him whiny and teary and broken, a fragmented version of your former self. Because by the time you and Jake were done putting each other through the wringer you didn’t even recognize yourself anymore, didn’t feel like you had yourself to fall back on.

You really are healing, a microscopic part of you dances with glee.

Jake pauses, he must know you’re right.

But you can see the jealousy written all over his face, have been pretending not to notice the hard line of his jaw every time he witnessed the easy way Bradley’s arm snaked around your waist. It’s pathetic, really, how well you can still read him after all this time.

You’re watching him carefully and you see the knife coming out unauthorized a second before you hear him.

“He won’t ever make you feel like I do.”

You suck in a sharp breath anyways.

Part of you wants to strangle him for being right, for highlighting every part of your soul that still believes it was made for him with nine little words.

“Maybe that’s the point.”

Clenching your fists briefly, you try to release your anger through your fingers, before moving to get up and get the hell away from whatever this is, because agreeing to this was clearly a mistake.

“I’ll wait as long as it takes,” Jake calls to your retreating back.

Even though you wouldn’t wait for me, you hear in the silence that follows.

You can’t help but stop dead in your tracks. You don’t say anything, though, and he takes it as a sign to continue.

“It’ll always be you,” he says, honeyed voice tingling your skin. He’s moved up behind you while you were busy listening to your pounding heartbeat and the blood rushing in your ears.

Jake’s fingers gently brush your hair over one shoulder, exposing your neck in an intimate gesture he has absolutely no right to, but sets your skin on fire anyways. It’d be easy for you to turn around and give into him, to give your broken heart the band-aid it’s been begging you for the better part of a year.

But your brain pleads with you to remember all the times you did give in, to gain that small reprieve from the pain, the fallout splintering your heart further and further each time.

The only way out is through.

“I’m in love with you,” Jake says finally, and somehow it shatters you even more than it did to hear him claim the opposite.

“That’s not enough,” you say, and you walk out the door.

What if I’m the one, but you’re not?

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw #rooster imagine #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw fic

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shotgunbunny · 1 year

Text

𓆩𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𓆪

WC:1.2k. GIF by acharliecoxedfan

{warnings: airhead reader! sexual undertones! grumpy mace! mace is 25 and reader is over 18! bimbo reader! tiny bit of angst}

Mace was actually excited to go into work for no other reason than seeing you. After that phonecall, he felt more comfortable with you. He felt honoured that you chose him to help comfort you after you had a nightmare. God he was becoming absolutely smitten with you. He couldn't help the dopey smirk that was painted on his face. He got dressed and headed to work.

When he got their he stoned his face, he didn't need Harvey talking to him again. He made it clear, you were his, and if Harvey didn't back down then he'd gladly fight about it. Ofcourse Harvey backed down, his cowardice winning over in the face of violence. Mace sighed and walked into his unit and stopped when he spied a girl there. He relaxed when he realised it was just Mallory, she was one of the people that would zoom into his room and borrow a wrench before zooming back out.

She wore a small smile, and Mace noticed how much he hated it. He preferred your smile, your plump lips curved up and always covered in gloss or a lipstick. He raised an eyebrow at her, obviously confused as to what she wanted and why she hadn't zoomed off when she got what she needed. "Mallory what a surprise, what couldn't find the screwdrivers?" He said dryly making him laugh at his own sarcastic joke.

"Listen Mace, me and the others just want to apologize. We know that it must have been infuriating with your project being scrapped and everything." She said it softly, almost scared of how Mace would react to the apology that everyone wanted to say.

Mace let out a sarcastic laugh that Mallory believed was real and little did he know so did you. He smirked with a grin that stretched his face widely. "You have no fuckin' idea. Now get what you need and fuck off. I have company coming." He turned his face easily returned to it's stoic expression and he heard the audible gulp from Mallory. He observed how she was shaking a small but before she took small mouse steps back, watching him with fear in her eyes. How could anyone willing want to hang out with him, he was terrifying and yet you saw him as just a grumpy guy that needed some brightness.

With that he went back to work, he had a new project now. It was much sleeker and thought over. He looked over the instructions and blue prints before deciding to work on one particular part, and then manoeuvre around it. Yet all the while he was waiting for you, but it never came. An hour after he began his project he pulled away, feeling concern fill his head and heart. You were either late or in the cafeteria. He dragged himself up and headed to the cafeteria.

You weren't there and he could feel his heart sink. He felt like such a loser. You had played so well that even if you did return and say it was a game to you, he'd still want you. He'd still crave for you to be around him to soften his grumpy demeanour that sent others running but made you giggle. He knew you could also be late or sick, but he didn't wanna get his heart hopeful. Girls like you knew how the world went and how easy men were. And now Mace had fallen into your trap and all he could think about was how much he would fall into your trap again.

He decided to just instead go back to his task at hand. The best thing he could do is forget about you with thoughts of work. And it was a great plan. His brain filled with instructions and he decided to stick to them. But it only worked for so long, when his lunch break rolled around it was late in the day, he decided to text you see if you were ill. Yet his face scrunched up into a frown. You had blocked him, and he didn't even know why. Just as he was staring and trying to conjure up a reason as to why, you walked past and Mace just saw the flash of white. But before he could investigate what was potentially you he heard an obnoxious horn going on outside.

He headed to the window and moved the blinds. His blood turned to ice and molten hot lava simultaneously. There you were, looking so beautiful and pretty. He missed out on seeing your pretty face today with you babbles and he felt his heart break. But rage entered when he saw you were getting into a car with a guy. He looked like a douchebag, maybe this was the ex you mentioned once. He fit the description, a crappy beard, blonde hair that was greasy. And a god awful car.

He turned and went to cafeteria to grab a coffee. He just wanted an answer as to why you would block him. As he stared deadly at the coffee machine, he heard the door open and saw Corazon. She flashed him a smile to which he nodded back at her. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. Instead he was growing more bitter by the second.

"You know I had her in my unit today." He turned and looked at Corazon, "What?" She simply smiled, "I had your so called princess in my unit. And she looked a bit heartbroken over something." Mace rolled his eyes. Why would you seem heart broken you had nothing to be sad about. "She asked me what I would do if I saw my crush flirting with someone." Maces face stoned and then memories of Mallory and how there was a flash of white at the door.

'Fuck fuck fuck.' You had probably misread his sarcasm got reality. So now he had to correct this. God he was so annoyed with a groan he turned and thanked Corazon, before storming down the hall. He was so frustrated at himself for not noticing you and even more angry that he thought you were playing him. He knew what he had to do. He decided to work overtime and do the night shift.

When it got to 1am, he walked around the building a spotted one of the awful payphones. He payed and typed your number in and patiently waited. When you picked up you were tired and upset and he could tell with your sniffles. With a sigh he quickly said, "I'm sorry." There was a pause before you replied now more awake.

"Mace?" he missed you so much today that even you saying his last name gave him tingles. "Yeah listen that girl that was in my unit, we weren't flirting I was being a sarcastic asshole. I was sarcastically laughing at her apology of trashing my project." Your eyes widened oh god you had misread the whole situation. "I won't be in tomorrow but I will be the day after. I really hope you'll join me again princess." Before either of you could say goodbye or continue the payphone ended the call not having enough money to continue it.

Mace punched the wall irritated. God he could only hope you forgave him. When he went back to the unit he went back to working until 5am. When he pulled his phone out he saw a notification from 'princess lipgloss.'

'i had a bad day nerd :(. but atleast you admitted you were a grumpy man <3'

'i said a sarcastic asshole. not grumpy.'

A smile overtook his face and when he got home he fell straight into sleep. Dreaming only of you and how cute you might have looked all jealous over Mallory.

#james mace x airhead!reader #james mace x woc!reader #james mace x black!reader #james mace x reader #james mace #j.mace #James Mace fluff #chris evans x woc!reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader

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yanderes-galore · 1 year

Note

Just occurred to me I requested every villain in Halo RVB 1-15 except for Felix, poor bastard. How about a romantic/platonic concept with a medic darling? They work for the rebellion and end up scolding Felix when he has to visit them, telling him that he needs to be more careful because the army needs him (which he finds hilarious but won’t elaborate on why). He shows up in the medical bay to bother them constantly, then when his cover’s blown, he decides the pirates could use a fully trained combat medic and takes them with him, much to Locus’ annoyance.

Man... Felix was such a good character. Sure! I'll do sonmething for him :) Been a bit since I saw the Chorus trilogy so I apologize if something's off.

I feel like I could've done more with this but I was not sure what-

Spoilers for Halo RvB Chorus Trilogy

Yandere! Felix with Medic! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Self-harm mention, Swearing, Threats, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Kidnapping, Vague relationship implied, Violence, Murder, Jealousy.

You are a medic for the New Republic by the time you meet Felix.

Kimball trusts you to treat her soldiers.

You've seen countless patients in your small makeshift medical office.

However, the one you've seen the most is Felix.

Felix is a mercenary but he has a reckless and eager personality.

Which means he often finds himself injured due to such reckless behavior.

Before the Reds and Blues blew his cover, Felix played his facade around you.

To you, Felix was playful, friendly, sarcastic, but stern at times.

Whenever you saw him he acted like a close friend.

You were sure you were the only one who saw him out of his armor for healing.

Felix when he's still acting like he's on your side is Overprotective, Obsessive, and Caring.

This is not his true yandere persona.

He says you're so important to this war because you're a medic.

He says it all with a sweet smile.

Felix also enjoys teasing you around the base, often saying he'll "see you later in the medical bay."

You often scold the mercenary on him being so reckless.

It's dangerous out there!

You catch Felix snickering at your concern but you don't quite understand why.

You just think he's playing with you and punch his shoulder lightly.

Which he then becomes overdramatic about.

Felix is dramatic.

In more ways than you know.

When he comes into your office he overplays his actual injury.

You also begin to wonder how he's getting injured so often?

He's a skilled mercenary...

You have no idea that he's injuring himself to have the excuse to see you. Locus can be such a pain in the ass.

Felix doesn't just see you in the office.

He often looks for you when you're not in the office.

You'll be on break and Felix will find you again.

He's extremely chatty.

It's like he wants to hear himself talk when he's with you.

Felix likes to compliment you, too.

You feel like Felix is trying to be overly flattering towards you.

It's... strange.

Felix can be hypocritical, talking about your own safety while supposedly neglecting his own.

When he visits the base he comes to you to see if you're okay.

If you were injured... then Felix expresses uncharacteristic (to you) dark behavior.

He wants to know who did it....

So he can end them in the most painful way possible.

Felix shows to be caring of you even if he's overprotective.

Felix always liked how smart you are.

As Felix's friend, you start to think he's lying to you as the rebellion goes on.

Something's not quite right with his behavior...

The moment the big plan about Chorus is revealed... you lose respect for Felix.

He always felt like he was lying to you.

After that you try to avoid him, trying to pretend you didn't hear any rumors.

But Felix knows better.

In fact, he already has plans for you.

Felix's true yandere persona is not that of an overprotective partner.

Felix is actually Manipulative, Self-absorbed, Selfish, Merciless, Possessive, and Exploitive.

Felix has low empathy and doesn't sympathize with anyone.

He kills people and disrespects the dead.

When Felix decides to take you away from the rebellion once the plan is revealed he doesn't care what he does to take you.

The mercenary doesn't mind killing your friends, calling them pathetic and all sorts of other names while stalking towards you.

"It's funny that you thought you were saving them! They were going to die for nothing anyway...."

He's a monster who would harm anyone to get what he wants.

Felix is a wolf in sheep's clothing.

This whole thing was an act to him.

Every talk, every action, everything.

Felix can act like an entirely different person to get others to trust him.

Like a role in a play.

Including those on his side.

Felix offers you the offer to join the Space Pirates, giving one last chance to be nice with you.

If you refuse then he doesn't mind threatening you into following him.

Felix expects Locus to give him shit for taking you in but he doesn't care.

Felix also wants to keep you with him... as he feels you're his.

You're a skilled combat medic... you'll be useful.

He promises.

Locus complains to Felix at times but the orange mercenary tells him to mind his own business.

When you're forced into the Space Pirates you see Felix's true colors.

Anyone under him is disrespected and threatened into compliance.

You've also seen how jealous Felix gets when you're forced to heal others.

He'll be flipping his combat knife only to think about throwing it at one of your patients if they compliment you.

A threat that silently says "hands off."

Felix often manipulates those around him and is cruel.

If you think of the people he's killed for you then he brushes it off, telling you they didn't matter.

Felix cares little for the deaths of others.

Felix also expects you to pay attention to him.

Ignoring him will make him force it out of you.

He wants to talk to you, maybe even get a bit handsy if he feels that way.

Things like an arm around the shoulder and possessive hug solidifies how he feels for you.

He feels like he deserves you.

He feels he's entitled to you and your care.

Felix would even kill in front of you if he felt it was necessary.

The only person that matters to him is you.

Even then he's twisted about the way he feels about you.

Felix wants to be the only one to see you out of your armor, often locking the door to your office when he visits you.

Felix knows you hate him for betraying you and kidnapping you.

He claims it's so your conversation with each other "feels casual."

He has ulterior motives.

But he also knows you'll have to push aside such feelings at some point.

He's a dangerous man who'd kill everyone around you to keep you to himself.

If you refuse him... he may even threaten you.

You can't tell if Felix loves you or genuinely cares for you at all anymore

All you know is his hold is too tight on you and his jealousy is volatile...

You have no idea if you could ever trust him again after all he's done to you.

#yandere halo red vs blue #yandere halo rvb #yandere halo rvb felix

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sitp-recs · 9 months

Note

Hi Liv! I appreciate your recs so much, even as I am constantly weeping at your feet for increasing my Marked For Later list at an exponential rate.

I'm curious to know what fics you would rec that are deliciously depraved, debauched, and downright dirty. Smut so filthy and/or kinky that you can only read it from between your fingers as you cover your blushing face with both hands. My guilty favorite that has lived in an eternally-open tab is The Curse of Wanting by nothing_left_sacred, and I am ever on the hunt for something on that level of perverse indulgence. Help a degenerate out?

Hi anon! Lmao I’m sorry (or am I 😏) for your ever increasing mfl list, I am very familiar with the feeling and have given up on being up to date with my reading 🥲 @pennygalleon and I were just talking about this and I’ve considered deleting everything and starting a new mfl from scratch but am too lazy to do it right now, will prob try it later this year!

As for your depraved ask, I love it so much hehe let’s push the debauchery agenda forward pls and thank! My answer might be underwhelming but full disclosure: I actually haven’t read much filth in the Drarry fandom, or at least not a lot that makes me blush and cover my face (that rarely happens these days…). I am listing below a few Drarry fics that I find very hot and here’s a shoutout to Lokifan as one of my favorite smut authors - but tbh my followers might be more knowledgeable than me on this topic! Oh and thanks for reccing The Curse of Wanting, I’ll definitely check it out :)

Utter Cockslut (A Worthy Cause) by Lokifan

Harry sells Draco’s arse to all comers for a night. After all, it’s for a very worthy cause. Fluffier than it sounds.

Keep your hands on me by tenthousandyears

Malfoy binds himself with a sex curse. Harry cannot get enough (but would much prefer to keep Malfoy for himself).

The Adventures of a Pureblood Slut series by asphodellic

Draco Malfoy is arrogant, selfish, sarcastic, and let's be honest, drop dead sexy. But sometimes purebloods aren't as pure as they appear. A series of adventures involving Draco and the things that get him off.

It Started in the Shower series by chickenlivesinpumpkin

When Harry finds Malfoy in his shower at Grimmauld Place, the two boys struggle to keep their hands to themselves, not realizing that their 'enemies-with-benefits' relationship will eventually become considerably darker and more powerful. That relationship will influence the search for the horcruxes--and the war--in unpredictable ways.

Toeing the Line by shiftylinguini (Drarry + Teddy)

Draco wasn’t sure why watching his partner fuck Teddy until he screamed was somehow less morally iffy for Harry than just doing it himself, but Draco wasn’t about to judge. Not when he was balls deep, anyway.

+2 long angsty fic with lots of hot smut:

Another Mask Behind You by lettered

Draco is a high-end prostitute who hides his identity. Harry unknowingly hires him. And then there is porn, questions about identity, domestic bliss, more porn, and truth as seen through a web of lies. (And then more porn. Seriously, if you don’t want sex scene after sex scene you probably shouldn’t read this. And please read the warnings.)

Unhook the Stars by jad

For HP Sexstars 2012. - "Love is like a Rubix Cube: there are countless wrong twists and turns, but once you get it right, it's perfect no matter how you look at it." Seventy-thousand words of pornographic discourse between two boys-turned-men that still haven't learned how to communicate like normal people – with words.

#asks #anon #drarry smut

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anonymityisfunwriter · 2 years

Text

Two Sides of The Same Coin - Chapter 30: "Out Of The Woods"

"But the monsters turned out to be just trees, when the sun came up you were looking at me..."

Pairing: Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Bucky Barnes

“She’s up,” Sam announces from the doorway that leads to your little garden.

“I know. I saw her," Bucky admits, trying to focus on the task at hand. Or trying to distract from the fact that, after two weeks, he'd seen you up. He watched you through the blind of your hospital window, you hadn't even seen him. You were talking to Sam. And Bucky smiled to himself as he watched you through the window, Sam brushed the hair out of your face, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. And then from what it looked like, Sam proceeded to mildly scold you.

And the moment he saw you awake, he froze.

What was he supposed to say to you?

What did he say to a person that risked their life to save him?

What did he say to a person he was madly in love with?

He didn't know, and now that you were awake, he knew he needed to figure it out- to get it right. It was just a lot harder than he ever realized.

“Then why are you here? You do know that she doesn’t actually do any of this, right?” Sam says, gesturing to your garden.

Bucky scoffs sarcastically. “Oh, silly me! Why don’t I use my magic abilities to help me?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam shrugs, lightly kicking one of the mounds of dirt Bucky dug up. “She’ll probably wave her hand and it’ll all be back to it’s pristine condition without all of this mess.”

“Nothing wrong with a little elbow grease, Sam,” Bucky grunts, resting the shovel against the building.

“There is when you’re using it to avoid dealing with your problems.”

“I don’t have any problems. You just said she’s awake, that’s what matters.”

“Mhm... so why aren’t you with her?”

“Speaking of," Bucky interjects, purposefully avoiding Sam's question. "If you’re here aggravating me, who’s with her?”

“Oh, I left her alone.”

“You what?” Bucky shouts.

“Jeez, I’m kidding! Steve and Bruce are with her. Man, you’ve really got it bad," Sam teases, slightly shaking his head. "Which brings me back to what you’re doing here Mr. ‘I Sat Covered in Her Blood for The Entirety of Her 12 Hour Surgery’?”

“Just trying to figure some things out,” Bucky mutters.

“Well figure it out faster, she’s been asking for you.”

“She has?” Bucky asks hopefully, finally looking up off the ground.

“You two really couldn’t be more blind, could you?”

“Shut up," Bucky grumbles. "I’ll get cleaned up and I’ll be there soon.”

Bucky takes a deep breath as he walks the hallway that leads to your room.

He's about to round the corner to your room, but he stops just short of your room to steel himself to say the words he's been practicing in his head over and over. It was simple - he'd just put it all out there and you could do with his feelings what you will.

He stalls for another moment, gathering all his nerve to walk into your room.

His grip tightens on the bouquet of sunflowers he bought for you. "I'm an idiot," he mumbles to himself. "She can grow her own flowers. Why would I buy her flowers? She took a bullet for me and I buy her flowers."

He continues pacing just around the corner of your room, mumbling to himself about how stupid he was being. "She's your friend. You talk to her all the time- but that was before she took a bullet for you. And I bring her fucking flowers! Why would I do that?"

He's distantly aware of the nurses at the nursing station watching his tailspin. Watching as he talks to himself, pacing back and forth in the hallway like a crazy person.

He stops in his tracks, now worried that they'll put him in the psych ward because he's clearly lost his mind. He shakes his head, sucks in a breath and forces himself to take a few steps around the corner.

Then he hears you call, “James?”

He involuntarily smiles at your excited reaction to him simply walking into your purview. He takes another deep breath and walks through the door.

“How’re you feeling, Doll?” he asks, shuffling into your room and over to your bed. "I brought these for you. In hindsight, it's kind of stupid, but-"

You shake your head, cutting him off, "They're beautiful. Thank you."

"How are you doing?" he asks again, putting the bouquet on the nightstand next to the homemade 'get-well-soon' card Morgan made for you.

“Pretty good,” you nod affirmatively.

“Really?” Bucky asks with an eyebrow raised. “You had us, me, pretty scared for a minute.”

“Come on, you can’t get rid of me that easily,” you smile, waving your hand dismissively. “Besides, the doctors said most of my bleeding was internal, last time I checked that’s where the blood is supposed to be.”

He huffs softly, both in amusement and relief. "Where'd Steve go? And Banner? Sam said they were both here."

"They were," you affirm. "I told them I was tired so they took off just a few minutes ago."

"If you're tired, you can sleep. I can go or I can stay here- not that you want me to watch you sleep or anything. Just whatever you want."

"No, it's okay. Honestly- and you can't tell Steve this, but he was acting kind of weird. He kept calling me 'pal'. I think he's keeping a secret or something. He only acts like that when he's trying to keep a secret - wait, do you know what's going on?"

"No," he immediately shakes his head. Though knowing Steve, he was probably bursting at the seams to keep Bucky's confession to himself.

"Anyway, go ahead, I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Well, you were pretty mad at me for the whole bomb thing, and I’m sure getting shot didn’t help my ‘I’m not reckless’ argument. You said that we were going to have a very long talk about my lack of survival instincts, so go ahead, I’m ready for your lecture.”

“I’m not going to lecture you. At least until you’re out of the hospital.”

“Why not? It’s not like I can go anywhere.”

“You took a bullet for me,” he states, both in disbelief and in explanation.

“I did.”

“You saved my life. And you almost lost yours.”

“James,” you sigh, because even in hindsight, you wouldn't have done anything differently.

He simply continues speaking as if you hadn’t said anything. “I was so scared that you weren’t going to come back. I don’t think you understand how terrified I was.”

“I wasn’t going to let you die,” you quietly exhale.

“That’s my point! How do you think I felt? And I feel like a selfish jackass that I’m even talking about how I feel when you’re lying there because of me!”

“I like when you tell me how you feel. I want to know, even if it’s not always good.”

“Well, I was scared. Beyond scared. There aren’t words for how I felt seeing you lying there, bleeding out in my arms.”

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Don’t be sorry! I don't want to make you feel bad. I’m just trying to- I just- I can’t get the words out.”

“Okay, you lost me a little bit,” you wryly admit.

“Aghh,” he dramatically groans, fists raised clenching around nothing but air. “I’m trying to do this right, but apparently I don’t know how because you've ruined me. Absolutely ruined me!”

“I ruined you?” you echo, your head jolting in a strange mix of confusion and worry about whatever has Bucky so flustered and off-kilter.

"Yes, you've absolutely ruined me!"

"Okay," you shake your head. "You lost me again. How exactly did I ruin you?"

“I’m in love with you!” he abruptly shouts, cutting off your question. “There! I said it. I’ve been trying so hard not to fall in love with you, but I can’t do that because I’ve clearly lost my damn mind because I’m so hopelessly in love with you.”

“James,” you try to interrupt.

“No, let me finish or I’m never going to get this out. Because now I’ve got this weight in my stomach, but at the same time I’ve never felt better about myself. You’re- you see the good in me, even when I think there isn’t any, you bring it out. You single handedly bring out the best in me. The person that has all these stupid, corny ass words that I want to say to you. Like how the world feels right when you’re next to me. Or how you’re so full of light and I’m absolutely terrified that I’m going to be the one that ruins that. And I don’t have the first clue why you stick around me, why you chose the worst, grumpiest person to spend your time with, but you do. You do and every day I wake up thanking God that you do because nobody’s ever made me feel the way you do. And how you make me smile all the time, I’m smiling so damn much that my cheeks hurt. My cheeks actually hurt, my ribs hurt from the way you make me laugh. You make me laugh in a way that I’ve never laughed before. And-And…shit, I’m really bad at this.”

“And?”

“And I don’t want to know a world without you in it," he continues, his voice returning to a normal volume. "And when you were lying there, all I kept thinking about was that I never got a chance to tell you that. To tell you that every future I picture for myself, the only future where I’m actually happy- is with you right there with me.”

“James,” you try again.

“Don’t," he stops you. "Please don’t say anything. Not while you’re lying there, hopped up on all kinds of pain medication.”

“I feel fine,” you assure him.

“Either way.”

“Okay,” you whisper, completely enchanted by the man in front of you.

It remains silent for a moment before the weight of Bucky's words starts to sink in. "Okay, you have to say something."

"You just said not to," you softly point out.

"And I don't want you to. Not like this."

"Then what do you want me to say?"

He shakes his head and clears his throat before speaking again, “Well I think it’s only fair that since I just embarrassed the shit out of myself, you tell me something embarrassing too.”

“Alright, if it makes you feel better,” you agree, wistfully smiling at the man. “Hmm…what can I tell you?”

“Come on, there’s gotta be something that embarrasses you,” he anxiously urges, his leg shaking as the idea of his vulnerable rant sinks deeper into his self-conscious mind.

“Hold on! I’m trying to think.”

“In that case, I’ve got one. Sam told me there was a reason you called me James instead of Bucky. Tell me why.”

“Hmm…” you wrinkle your nose with a playful smile. “Too embarrassing.”

“Come on, I definitely just embarrassed myself out of any chance I had with you.”

You shake your head wondering how he couldn't see the effect he had on you. “I think you’re more endearing than you give yourself credit for.”

“You’re not getting out of this. Tell me,” he cajoles, slightly sticking his lower lip out. “Please?”

You let out a huff of defeat. You absentmindedly pick at the petals of the flower in your hand as you tell the story. “Do you remember the day we met?” Bucky wordlessly nods. “Well, I was very excited to meet a new person. My first new person since Sam took me in. Anyway, Sam told me a little about you and that your name was Bucky. And I told him that Bucky was a funny name.”

“Of course you did,” Bucky chortles.

You exhale one more time before continuing, “Anyway, Sam explained that it was a nickname. That nicknames were something that your friends call you, like how people call him Sam. And at first, I knew you didn’t want me around-"

“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky interrupts.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, resting your hand on his. “But I knew that you didn’t like me, that to you- I wasn’t your friend. So I called you by your real name. And after a while, before I even knew it, I didn’t want to be just your friend. So I kept calling you James, thinking maybe you’d…see me as more than a friend.”

“Are you kidding me?” Bucky states, his face dropping. “You’re supposed to tell me something embarrassing.”

You deeply exhale, feeling your cheeks burn at your confession. “That was embarrassing!”

“That’s literally the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. That’s the kind of thing you say at a toast at our wedding. Or a cute story you tell the grandkids! That’s not embarrassing!”

Your lips pull in as you try to hide your wistful smile. “You’ve thought about our wedding? And grandkids?”

“I didn’t say that,” he immediately backtracks, internally cringing at his lack of a verbal filter. “I meant- you know, just in general.”

“No, you definitely said ‘our wedding’. The grandkids. You’ve really thought about things like that? A real future with me?”

He stands up, pointing his thumb in the direction of the hospital window. “I’m just going to throw myself out the window now.”

You laugh as you intertwine your fingers with him to keep him in his seat next to you. “No, I think it’s sweet.”

“I’m going to stop talking before I keep embarrassing myself.”

“Don't make me laugh. It hurts,” you chortle, resting your head back on your pillow.

“How am I making you laugh? Except for how painfully embarrassed I am.”

“You know what you’re doing.”

He smiles for the first time in days, placing his elbows on your bed. “Maybe I do."

“James?" you say, placing your hands on his cheek. "I know you said not to say anything, but I do too.”

He leans into your touch, relishing in the feeling of rightness. It all felt like it was falling into place. "Then I'm the luckiest man on the planet."

You exhale softly as he slowly leans closer to you. You can't move to sit up, so you let him come to you. He presses a sweet, chaste kiss to your lips. You lean in just the slightest bit, deepening the kiss.

"Gross," Sam gags from the doorway. Bucky jolts away from you in an instant.

"Sam," you stammer. "It's not-"

"We were just-" Bucky starts, though no excuse comes to mind as to why he was draped over you in your hospital bed.

"Checking each other's tonsils?" Sam finishes with an eyebrow raised. "I was wondering when I was going to catch you two. I was hoping that you'd come clean-"

"Wait- you've known this entire time?!" you exclaim, cutting Sam off.

"I might play the fool at times, but do you two honestly think you're that slick? Of course I know. A blind man could see the way you two look at each other. It's gross. And it doesn't help that he confessed his love for you in front of me and Steve."

"What?" you exclaim, looking wildly at Bucky. "Why would you do that?"

Bucky scoffs at Sam with wide eyes, "I was in emotional turmoil. I'm not used to feelings!"

"Are you mad?" you anxiously ask Sam.

"I'm not mad, but you should've told me- rule number one, remember?"

“Aww…” you groan, throwing your head back. “Come on, don’t ‘rule number one’ me.”

"What's rule number one?" Bucky asks, eyes flickering between you and Sam. "Don’t set things on fire?"

“No,” Sam states, still pointedly eyeing you. “It’s honesty. Complete and total honesty. Don’t lie to me, don’t omit things, even if she thinks it’s something that I don’t want to hear. And I give her the same respect.”

"Well," you interject, intertwining your fingers with Bucky's as he takes his seat again. "We're all alive. No more secrets. It's gonna to be great!"

Next Chapter

"Two Sides Of The Same Coin" Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

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