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ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months

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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 (𝐈𝐈)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Summary: After you reveal the truth of what your relationship really was between you and Miguel, everyone's keen on learning more. So what better way to give a little more insight than a dinner at your shared home?

Warnings: None~ Just back again with silly shenanigans and the softest of fluff :3

A/N: Hello, everyone! After the first part of 'What's In Between' blew up (you can read it here, thank you so much by the way, you're all so sweet), many people have asked for a part two, so here it is! Enjoy <3

The moment you break the news to them, the volume of the table booms to a fever pitch as everyone begins talking at the same time.

“W-WHAT?!”

“Married? No way,” Hobie says.

“How long have you been together?” Pavitr asks.

“I can’t say I saw this coming…” Miles says, eyes widening in surprise.

Miguel had been watching you the moment you snuck up on the group, but with the newfound panic from everyone he couldn’t help but make his way over to the commotion.

“You’re all being loud, what are you yelling about now?” Miguel asks, walking over and standing by your side.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL US YOU WERE MARRIED?!” Gwen shouts.

“You never asked,” he blinks, “and also, it’s none of your business.”

“Miguel, as your best friend I am deeply offended that you haven’t told me after this long, does our friendship mean nothing to you?” Peter says, hand on his chest in pretend hurt.

“You are not my best friend,” Miguel deadpans.

“After I opened up to you no less, I mean, you were the first person I told about Mayday! All the details-” he continues, ignoring the comment.

“Not by choice,” he mutters.

“Does no one know about this?? At all???” Pavitr asks, “I mean, you two are married.”

“I mean, Jess knows about it,” you gesture, and she only grins.

“And now all of you do too,” Miguel sighs. “Vida mía, I thought we talked about this,” he admonishes.

“Oh, c’mon, it was cute how they were all trying to figure it out for so long. I was starting to feel bad,” you say, smoothing your hair back. He only stares at you for a moment before sighing.

“Fine,” he relents, “Can’t do anything about it now anyway.” He smiles softly at you, and the group watches in awe as their cold leader softens in your presence, but his gaze quickly grows dark as he turns back to the group.

“One word of this to anyone outside of this group,” he says with a pointed finger before trailing off, allowing everyone to fill in the blanks as to what he might do.

Everyone’s faces pale like a sheet at the unnamed threat (well, except for Hobie, he only watches with blatant amusement on his face), but you only laugh.

“Miguel, don’t threaten the kids,” you giggle. “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,” you whisper to them with a wink.

“Hey, that’s what I say!” Peter says.

“You are his best friend after all,” you grin.

“I have never said those words a day in my life,” he scoffs, but you ignore him, eyes lighting up with an idea.

“Oh! I have a lovely idea, how about you all swing by our place for dinner later? We never have guests,” you suggest.

Gwen gasps, “Really?”

“This…maybe doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Miles says as he shrinks down in his seat at Miguel’s glare towards you.

“I have plans tonight…though I don’t think they’d mind if I cancel,” Hobie says nonchalantly, but everyone knew there was no way in hell he’d miss something like this.

“What am I, cat litter?” Jess asks. She was the only person to have been at your shared home, having joined around the same time as you, and being one of the few people Miguel fully trusts.

“You know it's not like that, Jess,” you turn to her with a grin.

“Absolutely not, it's already a liability that they know querida, now you want them traipsing into our home?” Miguel argues, and you narrow your eyes at him, never one to back down from a fight. While it got on his nerves, it's what he loved about you too. He needed someone that wouldn’t take his shit.

“Miguel,” you say, giving him a look. “All our enemies are literally in alternate universes who, aside from those small tears, have no way to go cross-dimensional, let alone find us in the expanse of a universe. Besides, I think it would be nice,” you say, and Mayday seems to agree since she climbs right up into your arms, babbling happily.

“And don’t think I don’t know you have a soft spot for this lil ragtag team,” you smile, bouncing up and down as Mayday laughs.

He huffs, “I am anything but soft, especially for them. They never listen, don’t follow protocol, are immature, and the list goes on.”

“He’s lying,” you whisper, covering your mouth from his direction as though that would stop him from happening. Mayday grabs your hand though, playing with your fingers happily. “See how his ears are turning red?”

At that, his ears turn more red and the group tries to stifle their snickers to no avail.

“Querida,” he warns. “Do you feel the need to share anything else about me? Or have you had enough,” he asks, poking your shoulder. You place a hand on his bicep with a gentle smile, and his expression softens much to his dismay.

“Honey, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you grin. “Alright, it’s settled then! You’re all coming over tonight.”

You hummed softly to yourself as you moved around the kitchen, preparing the food for dinnertime when everyone would be coming over.

Then, you feel the hair rise on the back of your neck as a familiar presence makes himself known, strong arms wrapping around your waist as his head rests on top of yours.

“Vida mía, the food smells good,” he says softly before sighing. “But I’m not very happy with you today.”

You let out a sigh of your own as you turn off the stove before turning around in his arms to face him.

“Miguel, my love,” you say, smoothing out the collar of the pullover he wore before looking up at him. “I know you well, don’t I?”

“More than anyone,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting the tiniest amount as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Then it’s safe to assume that you’ve been wanting to hang out with more people in the Society apart from work-related things?” you ask, placing your hand on his chest.

“I can’t afford anything like that in this line of work, you know that querida,” he sighs, that familiar hardened look in his eyes for a moment.

“Miguel, your only friends can’t be me, Lyla and Jess,” you pout.

“Vida mía, you are my wife,” he says.

“Yes, and it's miracle enough that I was able to grow close enough to you to get to that point,” you chuckle, “so my existence in your life is proof itself that you are capable of growing close to people. I’ve seen you, I think you’re ready and deep down I know you don’t always want to be perceived as the cold and unfeeling leader of the Society. Why not start with them?”

“That’s not a decision for you to make,” he says, glancing away from you.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling a bit guilty that you threw Miguel into this without warning. “I should have spoken to you about it first but who knows. Maybe this is a good thing, opening your heart a little more,” you explain. “Don’t think I realize you’re the hardest on them because you believe in them,” you smile.

He huffs before pausing to think for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder when you snuck your little way into my head, querida.”

“Admit it, you’re growing soft,” you giggle softly.

“Never,” he counters, tickling your side which makes you scrunch up your face as you laugh breathlessly.

“OKAY! Okay, you’re one soft fluffy teddy bear, happy?” you say which only makes him continue with even more fervour.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I think I have ever heard you say, querida,” he snorts but finally relents.

“Yeah….I can’t even say that with a serious face,” you chuckle. “But you do have your moments, tough guy,” you smile, leaning up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. That’s when the doorbell rings, and immediately your eyes light up.

“Oh! They’re here!!” you say excitedly, escaping from his grasp as you move to open up the door.

“Here we go,” he murmurs to himself, and you turn to face him.

“What was that?” you ask.

“Nothing, vida mía,” he replies, and you narrow your eyes in disbelief.

“Behave, Miguel,” you tell him.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else,” he replies, and you grin before opening up the front door.

There, you find Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter (alongside Mayday of course), Hobie and Jess all standing outside, chatting amongst themselves before turning to you.

Miles almost looks like he’s in disbelief like he couldn’t really believe this was your home quite yet.

“Hi!” Gwen starts.

“Took you lot long enough,” Hobie says. “Was starting to think we'd have to build a fire and cook it ourselves.” Gwen punches his shoulder, to which he lets out a little “Ow!”

“Sorry about him,” Gwen apologizes.

You just find yourself laughing at it all though.

“No apologies needed, we were a little preoccupied. Come on in, make yourself at home,” you say, opening the door a little wider for them to make their way through.

“Not too at home though,” you hear Miguel say, leaning into the foyer from the living room, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ignore him,” you say, giving him a pointed look to which he just stares at you blankly. “Dinner will be ready soon, I just have to set the table and we can eat, alright?”

“It smells delicious,” Pavitr says, “I’m starving.”

Mayday seems to agree as she crawls up from the baby carrier onto Peter’s head, making grabby hands from the top.

“Someone’s hungry,” Peter chuckles. “Got anything she can eat?”

“I have a few things, don’t worry,” you smile.

“It really does smell really good though, but it always does,” Jess adds.

“It’s nothing special,” you say sheepishly. “Just some of Miguel’s favourites.”

You guide them all into the living room. “Settle in! I’ll be done in a snap,” you say.

As you make your way back to the kitchen (with Jess joining you to help out), back in the living room the squad of spiders settle in almost hesitantly, a watchful eye monitoring all of their reactions.

No one dares say anything, only sitting around nervously.

“So…nice weather we’re having,” Peter says, trying to lighten the mood but even Mayday gives him a deadpanned expression.

Miguel sighs. “You’re all acting like there’s a ticking time bomb waiting for you to speak before setting off,” he says, still leaning up against the doorway.

“We don’t know, mate. Is there?” Hobie jokes, but Miles’ face drops anyway.

“There isn’t, for the record. I can be harsh but I’m not evil,” Miguel scoffs before making eye contact with Pavitr who looks like he wanted to ask something but was holding back.

“One question,” he says simply with a nod.

“How long have you two been together?”

“…a little over 4 years now,” he replies.

“How did you meet?” Gwen asks.

“I said one question,” he says before your voice cuts in.

“My universe was one of the first he visited! He hated me back then, though,” you laugh as you walk back in. “Speaking of which!! I have some things you might all want to see after dinner,” you grin mischievously.

“I thought you said I was the one that had to behave, mi corazón,” Miguel says, a warning tone in his voice.

“And I am, aren’t I?” you say, poking his side playfully. “Anyway, dinner’s ready,” you say, leading them to the dining room. “I know it's not much but-”

“How in the hell is this not much??” Hobie exclaims, and you just shrug. “You should see dinner with my family, then you will think that it’s not much,” you say with a chuckle.

On the table sat a wide expanse of food, all of Miguel’s favourites from Mexico. Empanadas as the appetizer, alongside pozole, ceviche, enchiladas, and chicken with mole poblano all served with a side of rice, beans, or homemade corn tortillas depending on each person’s preference.

You can see Miguel’s eyes visibly brighten as he looks at the food, settling in at the head of the table with you by his side.

“Come eat!” As you say that, everyone sits down before beginning to eat, everyone heading straight to what appealed to them the most.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Miles says, eyes closed in bliss.

“Oye, don’t let your Mother hear that, kid,” Miguel says, but the corner of his lip was upturned in the tiniest of smiles. The most he would allow himself around this many people.

“Thank you, Miles,” you smile.

“This, uhh, how do you say it again? Poh-zuhl?” Gwen asks, and you laugh out loud as she turns pink, meanwhile both Miguel and Miles cringe slightly.

“I’m sorry for laughing, sweetheart. You’re almost there; it’s pronounced like ‘poh-zoh-lay’,” you say kindly.

“Ohh, okay gotcha. Pozole. It’s really good! Feels…comforting, almost,” she says.

“Yes,” you say, glancing at your husband with a soft smile, “it’s Miguel’s favourite. Says it ‘tastes like home’.” A chorus of ‘awws’ go around the table, while Miguel only holds the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“Alright, alright. Enough with the cheesy stuff, let’s get back to eating, yeah?” Hobie says before shoving his fork back into his mouth.

Once dinner was finished (and after both Miles and Gwen insisted that they did the dishes despite much argument from you), everyone was settled again in the living room laughing and talking together, and while Miguel only said a few things here and there and sat by your side like a lost puppy, he did seem to be enjoying himself.

“Alright! Now, before everyone goes back home, I have one more thing I’d like to show you,” you say once it quiets down a bit. Standing up, you make your way over to a large bookshelf you and Miguel had built together when you first moved in together.

“I’ve gotten tired of having only myself to show these photos to, so this is the perfect opportunity,” you smile.

“Querida-” Miguel says, holding out a hand to block your way but you look at him with pleading eyes, and he can’t do anything but relent. He couldn’t say no when you looked at him like that.

With a triumphant ‘haha!’ you grab a photo album labelled with a date and a single word; ‘Ours’.

Everyone crowds around as you place it down on the coffee table, and you open it up to the first page.

Gwen is the one that gasps first, eyes wide with awe.

“You both look so beautiful,” she says softly.

There, front and centre was a photo of you and Miguel on your wedding day. You were smiling wide at the camera, a bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand while Miguel only looked at you with an expression so in awe it was as though you painted the stars in the sky.

“You clean up nicely, big man,” Hobie comments, and Pavitr nods.

“Weddings, my favourite,” Jess says, a fond expression on her face as she thinks back to her own husband.

“I had a bird fly into my face at my wedding…but they are nice,” Peter says, rocking Mayday gently as she naps away after the hearty dinner even despite the commotion.

You continue to flip through the photobook, pausing periodically for a little anecdote about each one. Miguel had long stood up to make room for everyone else, but he looked at you in the same way he did on your wedding day.

Like you were the light of his life, the one good thing he had amongst the millions of universes parallel to his own. Like you were his everything.

“Admit it, you like them,” you smile, the house finally quiet after everyone headed home. He only rolls his eyes before pulling you into his lap, his face going into the crook of your neck as he holds you close.

“There is a big difference between ‘liking’ and ‘tolerating’, sweetheart,” he says, rubbing circles into your hip soothingly.

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Whatever you say,” you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling into his touch with a happy sigh.

You both sit there for a moment in silence, the two of you weren’t ones to fill silence with mindless chatter. If words needn’t be said then they weren’t.

“That was…nice, though,” he admits softly after a little while.

“I know,” you whisper.

“That won’t happen again for a long while though,” he says, pulling away to look at you, crimson eyes pleading with you wordlessly.

You can’t do anything but laugh.

Taglist (for those who requested a part two): @lotustv @mars-ifuknowmeirlplsgoaway @elliewilliamsactualgf @randomhumans-blog @iluvkonig @phillygraves @gothgirlziez

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #marvel

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worldlxvlys · 3 months

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mine

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutttt, overstimulation, p in v, spanking, degradation, overstimulation, use of safeword, oral (fem receiving), breeding kink, unprotected sex, squirting, cream pie

a/n: i combined theseeee, hope you likeee :)

for bae @hearts4chriss <333

“chris, what is the fucking problem?” i asked him.

“the problem is that he obviously wants you and you were egging him on” he said as i reached down to take off my heels.

“egging him on?” i raised my voice. “in what fucking world is me ignoring him egging him on ?” i narrowed my eyes at him.

“you didn’t tell him to stop at all, you just let him hang all over you” i started to walk to our room, chris following closely behind me.

“that’s not fucking true” i said, starting to get annoyed with the fighting.

“chris this is stupid, we can sit here and argue about whether i entertained his shit or not , but it doesn’t really matter in the end. you’re here, not him, ok?” i said.

“no, it’s not ok” he said as we entered our bedroom. he pulled his shirt off.

“look, chris. i don’t know what you want me to say. you obviously have your mind made up and won’t believe me anyway” i said as i reached behind me, unzipping my dress.

he pulled his pants off as i continued, “let’s just go to sleep, and in the morning we can-“ i began but was cut off by chris pushing his lips to mine.

“i don’t like going to bed mad at you, baby. you know that” he whispered against my lips.

he then pushed me back gently, making me fall onto the bed. he smoothly crawled onto the bed, hovering over me.

“tell me what you’re thinking” he whispered, as he began to leave kisses trailing down my neck.

i weaved my hand through his hair, sighing out.

“i- fuck, chris. i don’t know, it’s just frustrating that you won’t believe me” i sighed out.

“oh, i believe you baby” he spoke into my skin. “just think you need a reminder of who you belong to” he said, his hand slipping into the waistband of my panties.

he collected my wetness, spreading it around before pushing one of his fingers inside of me.

“fuck, chris”

“can i remind you?” he asked, before placing his mouth on one of my tits.

my head fell back into the pillows, my mind already hazy as he thrusted his finger into me.

“can’t talk, baby ? haven’t even fuck you yet and you’re already acting dumb ?” he asked, slowing his movements, making me whine.

“look at you, so desperate. use your words, baby. do you want this ?”

“yes, chris, please” i whined.

“yeah? you sure you don’t want him to fuck you? you don’t want his fingers inside of you?”

he added another finger, quickening his movements.

“i’m sure! i’m sure, chris”

he curled his fingers, and i felt them brush my g-spot.

“fuck, chris!” i moaned out.

he placed his lips on mine, continuing to move his fingers expertly inside of me.

“i can feel you clenching around my fingers, baby. you close ?”

me eyes were squeezed shut as i nodded my head.

“tell me, baby. were you thinking about this when you put on that short ass dress earlier ?”

he pulled his fingers out for a second, before rubbing my clit through my panties.

“what about these panties, baby? you know they’re my favorite. you put them on for me?”

he asked before pushing his fingers back in, moving them even quicker this time.

“yes, yes chris just for-“ i started but was cut off by my own orgasm.

“chris! fuckkkk” i moaned out, holding onto his arm as pleasure washed over my body.

“such a little slut, coming in your panties like that.”

he brought his hand to his face, looking me in the eyes and licking my juices off of them, making me moan.

“you taste so good, baby. need more” he said before flipping me over.

i stuck my ass in the air, shaking it in a circle.

“fuck, yes baby. you know how much i love that ass” he said, striking his palm against both cheeks a few times.

i moaned at the slight sting, relishing in the way he massaged and grabbed my ass.

“you’re such a little freak, you’d do anything to get off, huh ?” he asked before leaving kisses on my lower back, slowly pulling my panties down.

while he slid the fabric down, he left kisses in its wake.

he licked the cum that was smeared on my skin from my previous orgasm.

“whose all this cum for, huh? who’d you make this mess for?”

“you, chris. only you” i said as i moaned out.

his tongue moved across my folds in an organized manner, and i realized he was spelling something.

M-I-N-E

“just in case you forgot” he said before attaching his lips back to my soaking heat.

he attacked my clit with his tongue, sucking and licking while the tip of his nose dug into my folds.

“oh my gosh, chris” i spoke into the pillows, grasping the sheets in my hands.

he brought his hand to my wetness, pushing two fingers into my sopping hole.

“shit!” i yelled out in surprise.

he moved his face off of me for a second, continuing to fuck me with his fingers.

“ i want you to remember this the next time you decide you want to act like a whore” he said, slapping my ass with his free hand.

“god, chris” i cried out.

“yeah, you might want to say a prayer, baby. i’m nowhere near finished with you” he said as he added another finger, stretching me out with his fingers.

he brought his mouth back to my clit, sucking and slurping like a madman.

“chris! chris! i’m gonna cum!” i whined out.

“already? you’re so fucking dirty. you love it when i treat you like a slut , huh ?” he asked condescendingly.

i didn’t answer, too wrapped up in the strange feeling that was developing in my stomach.

“don’t tell me you’ve lost your voice already, baby. i know you’ve been screaming and whining like a little bitch, but you should still be able to talk”

he caressed my ass, before pulling his hand back and slapping it hard.

“FUCK CHRIS! HOLY SHITTTT” i screamed in a shaky voice.

“there she is, my dirty girl. that feel good?”

“fuck yes, chris. please don’t stop” i said, my eyes tearing up from the burning feeling his hand brought to my skin.

he slapped my ass a few more times and i was gone.

“CHRIS! I’M GONNA-“ i cut myself off with a loud squeal as i squirted onto chris’s face.

“holy shit, ma. you really liked that, huh?” he asked, continuing to move his fingers inside of me.

“chris! oh my gosh” i whined as my legs began to shake.

he added another finger in, damn near fisting my pussy.

“i- chris! i’m so s-sensitive” i cried out, squeezing my eyes closed and hands gripping the sheets for dear life.

“how does it feel?” he asked as he continued to pump his fingers into me.

“f-feels good, but-“

“then shut up and take it” he said in a low, raspy voice.

my hips twitched, unintentionally increasing the friction and speed of his fingers inside of me.

i reached behind me, trying to feel for his arm and slow his movements.

he quickly caught onto this, and grabbed my arm with his free one, holding it behind my back.

“none of that, baby. if you need me to stop, you know what to say. do you need to stop?”

i shook my head frantically into the pillows, unable to form sentences.

“what are you, five? use your fucking words.” he said as he kept up his bruising pace.

“NO! chris please just- i can’t- FUCK!” i screamed out.

he was driving me insane. i couldn’t even think properly, completely overtaken by pleasure.

without warning, my juices shot out onto the sheets, making me scream.

“ohhhhh my- shittttt” my eyebrows furrowed as he continued to finger me.

my juices just kept spilling out of me, seemingly pleasing chris, as he continued to push his fingers into me.

he pulled his boxers down far enough to free his dick, and he wasted no time in pushing himself inside of my dripping pussy.

i barely had time to catch my breath as he began to pound himself into me.

my legs gave out underneath me, and i fell flat onto the mattress.

chris adjusted himself, placing his knees on the bed and fucking into me from above me.

my jaw hung open, nothing coming out as i couldn’t even make sound anymore.

my throat was scratchy from my previous screaming as i laid there and let chris continue to rock his hips into mine.

he picked up on my silence, quickly checking in on me.

“still feeling good, ma ?” he asked as he let go of the arm that he was holding behind my back.

“yes, chris. keep going” i sighed out.

“good. gonna stuff that pretty pussy with my cum, ok?”

“fuck yes” i moaned out.

despite him stretching me out earlier, my walls still squeezed around his cock, it was a snug fit.

“god, you’re so fucking tight. feel so good ma”

suddenly, another orgasm washed over me, and i released all over his cock.

“fuckkkkk” i whined as chris groaned.

“shit, ma. you take me so fucking well” he said, staring down at where our bodies met in a trance.

his cock twitched inside of me, and i knew what that meant.

“c’mon chris, know you’re close. need you to fill me up, baby. fuck your cum into me” i moaned out.

this seemed to send him over the edge, as he let out a long, deep groan before shooting his load inside of me.

“god, you’re such a fucking freak. talking to me like that” he moaned as he pulled out of me, watching his cum start to drip out.

he didn’t let it drip down far, before he pushed his seed back into me with his dick.

“fuck” i whimpered out as my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

every one of my senses were heightened as he picked up his pace, slamming into me.

my hearing went in and out and my eyes were slightly puffy from all of the crying i was doing.

he lifted my hips, placing his hand on my stomach and reaching down to rub figure eights on my clit.

“c-chris” it was too much.

“red, red, red ” i sighed out, needing a minute to collect myself.

he immediately halted his movements and pulled out of me.

i rolled myself over, laying on my back and staring at the ceiling.

“shit, are you-“ i stopped him before he could finish his question, knowing he would probably start freaking out.

“chris, i’m fine. you didn’t do anything, i swear. i’m just tired” i said as i brought my hand to his face, cupping his jaw.

“are you sure? did i hurt you?” he asked, giving my body a glance.

“i’m ok, chris” i said as he placed a kiss on my head.

“ok, here” he said as he got up, grabbing a water bottle off of the nightstand for me.

“stay here” he said as he disappeared into the bathroom for a little while.

when he came back, he made his way over to me.

“i ran you a bath, baby. come on” he gently spoke to me.

“chris, you didn’t have to”

“i know” he kissed my cheek. “but i want to take care of you, ma” he said as he helped me to the bathroom.

he spent the rest of the night doing just that, helping me to wash up and relax.

——————

i didn’t know how to end it 🌚

but yeah hopefully i did your requests justice <33

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf

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helen-with-an-a · 1 month

Text

You always have an excuse

Hi. So this is a request and I really liked the idea. Hopefully, I did it justice. I hope you enjoy

Barca Femeni x reader

Description: R always has excuses but eventually slips up.

Word Count: 3.8k

Shit. Shit. Shit. You were late. You were so late. But it wasn’t your fault; indeed, honestly, it wasn’t your fault. Your parents were not the greatest at being parents. They had you when they were just 16 and far too young to be having children. Sure, they paid for your football stuff and gave you a lot of what you asked for, but it was to keep you quiet and out of the house. You didn’t mind too much. It was easier when you only had to look out for yourself, never telling your parents where or who you were with. You always had a range of excuses ready for anyone who asked – lying and telling your friend’s parents that someone else would be taking you home, saying your mum was just around the corner, she had work so couldn’t come to your matches. It was fine. You knew nothing different.

You signed for La Masia when you were 10. The training was intense, but you loved it. You thrived under the pressure, quickly working your way up the ranks. Your debut for the first team happened shortly before your 16th birthday. You had never felt prouder of yourself.

“And here we have it. At just 15 years old, Y/F/N Y/S/N, making her debut for FC Barcelona Femeni. She’s homegrown, working her way up La Masia ranks. She is definitely a future star.” The commentator said as you made your way onto the pitch. This is what you have been dreaming of since you discovered football. This was the dream that only some people achieved. And you were one of them. A professional footballer. Your life’s goal was achieved.

The game was an easy win. The other team was fighting a relegation battle, as Barca slipped 10 goals past their keeper.

“Vamos,” Patri shouted as she shook you by the shoulders. “A debut and a brace. Is that a Ballon d’Or I see in your future?” You laughed as she wrapped you in a fierce hug.

“Neña, what a performance, hey?” Mapi called as Alexia affectionately hit the back of your head.

“Where’s your Mamí? I’m sure she wants to see you after that performance.” You didn’t even bat an eyelid as you smiled sweetly at Marta

“Oh, she said we’d meet outside by the main gates – saves us from trying to find each other on the pitch and in the crowd.” You waved at the chaos surrounding you. You knew your mother was nowhere near the football stadium – you doubted she even knew you had a football match, let alone your senior debut. It was easy to slip away from the changing rooms; you had significant practice doing it most of your life.

And now you were running so, so late. You had woken up on time, but the food in the house looked a little off, so you rushed to get something from the bakery on your way to the bus stop. But the line was bigger than anticipated, so you were rushing to catch the bus. A man walking in the other direction wasn’t paying attention and crashed into you, causing you to drop your stuff and spill hot coffee all over yourself. That had disrupted your flow, and you missed the bus, having to wait 5 minutes for the next one, which wasn’t a big deal. However, the metro system was delayed. And now you were 10 minutes behind, and then the bus you were supposed to catch from the metro station to the training centre never showed up, so you had to catch an alternative one, making you 30 minutes late. You had texted Jona to tell you you were running late but you knew you had laps waiting for you when you actually got there. You arrived at the pitch hot, sweaty, and tired. This was not an ideal start to the morning.

It was a known ‘Alexia Rule’ that every minute late to practice without a reasonable excuse was a lap. As you arrived at the huddle, one boot on, one still in your hand and your shirt stained with coffee, you could tell she was unimpressed. With all your rushing, you had forgotten to think of an excuse. You didn’t want to tell her the real reason; you had a feeling ‘Oh, sorry Alexia, I’m late because my parents are really shitty, forget they have a kid sometimes, and they haven’t been home in over a week, and the food in the fridge looked a little funky’ would not go down too well. She arched an eyebrow at you.

“Um …” You floundered, thinking about what to say. You could tell her the semi-truth that the metro was delayed and you had missed the buses, but they thought you got dropped off at the top of the road by your dad on the way to work. You could tell them there was traffic, but they all drove, so they knew you were lying.

“You have 30 laps to run at the end of training,” Alexia had a stern voice that you knew meant she was serious. 30 laps? That was basically 10k. Your eyes widened to comically sized proportions. 45 minutes of running around in a circle … after training? She was trying to kill you; you were convinced of it.

“You can’t be serious?” You gawked at her. Her other eyebrow rose to join the other one.

“Deadly.” She said icily and walked away.

Holy fuck. You were really, royally fucked this time. You were so dead. You had to miss training. But again, it hadn’t been your fault. The boiler had broken in your house, which wasn’t a big deal – it was late spring in Barcelona, and you didn’t need heating. But you did need the hot water. You had tried to ask your parents to stay home whilst someone fixed it, knowing that you had training and they could definitely work from home for a day. They had dismissed you with a flippant wave of their hands and continued what they were doing. You phoned the company, asking them to come and fix it as soon as possible. But, as expected, they told you they would be there before lunch, which was the best they could offer. It was now 2.30pm, and there was no sign of them. You had texted Jona this morning, offering a weak excuse of feeling a little rough. You hadn’t expected him to tell Alexia that you were feeling bad, and it sounded like you were home alone.

The knock on the door had you running towards it – thinking it was the person coming to fix the boiler. “Gracias, Gracias. Es el …” You rushed the explanation, not realising that it was not a plumber but rather your irate captain. You froze as you looked up. Shit.

“You look fine, neña. You don’t look like you’ve … what was it? Ah, yes, ‘picked up a little something’.” She was far too calm. You could see her anger bubbling under the surface, though.

“Ale, I-” you tried to explain.

“No, no quiero escucharlo,” she cut you off, a hand raising to stop you. “You lied. You skipped training. Was it worth it? Was it so much more important than training?” She hadn’t bothered to come into the house, standing at your front door, a bag of things meant to help you feel better in her hand. “Here,” she shoved it at you. “You’re on the bench until you can prove that you want to be a part of Barcelona Femeni.” And with that, she stormed off.

Tears welled in your eyes. She hadn’t let you explain … but what could you say? ‘Sorry, Ale, my parents are arseholes and don’t realise that I have a life and a job as well’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I had to wait for the plumber to come and fix our heating and hot water, and no, my parents – the adults in the house – couldn’t do it because they think their time is so much more important than mine’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I’m currently trying to raise myself, and whilst I’m usually ok at it, sometimes I fuck up’? You couldn’t say those things to her. You couldn’t tell her how tough your life could be sometimes … most of the time. You couldn’t tell her that your parents don’t even know you have a game, let alone watch it or attend it. You couldn’t tell her you often wake up in an empty house for weeks because your parents jetted off somewhere again. You couldn’t tell her that you doubt your parents could even tell you your full name and birthday.

She thought you didn’t want to be a part of Barca. Barca was your saving grace. Barca was the only thing that got you out of bed. The friendships you made were the closest thing to a normal family you had. Jana, Vicky, Martina, Patri, Claudia, Bruna, Esmee, Salma … they were your crazy cousins, always making you laugh and willing to go along with your mad ideas. Ona, Aitana, Lucy, Cata, Mapi … they were your big sisters, always protecting you on and off the pitch and lightly teasing you. Ingrid, Caro, Keira, Mariona, Frido … they were the calming aunts that helped you through any predicament. Marta, Paños, Irene … Alexia … they were your motherly figures, the people you could always rely on to love you regardless of what else was happening in your life. Did they think you didn’t want to be there? Barcelona was the single most greatest thing that had ever happened to you.

You looked at the bag Alexia had shoved at you. It was full of healthy smoothies, nutritious snacks, and your favourite chocolates. You could even see a soft teddy instructing you to ‘Get Well Soon’. It made you sob even harder. Eventually, you moved to the sofa. Once you started crying, you couldn’t stop. You cried over everything – disappointing Alexia, having no hot water, being benched, your parents' dislike of you, your seeming lack of support system, how you appeared to fuck up the one good thing in your life. You cried yourself to sleep on the sofa, clutching the bag to your chest and feeling so incredibly sorry for both you and the girls you had failed.

The next morning, you looked horrific – puffy, red eyes, dishevelled hair, blotchy skin. You didn’t even try to hide it as you made your way to the bus stop, ignoring the weird looks thrown your way. You were in a daze as you walked through the metro system and onto the second bus, forgetting to hurry down the side alleys instead of the main road. You didn’t see Ingrid’s car as it drove past you, a concerned Mapi, Ingrid, Ona, and Lucy in it.

“Era que?” Mapi asked, pointing over her shoulder.

“Y/N? Sí, fue” Ona nodded.

“Why, though? She said she gets dropped off by her dad on his way to work.” Ingrid was just as perplexed. You seemed to know exactly where you were going and had stepped off the bus with an ease only known to someone who took the same route every day.

“Maybe it was a one-off? He couldn’t take her today, so she had to get the bus? Although I don’t know why she wouldn’t just ask one of us – she lives on most of our routes to work.” Lucy pondered, all of them confused over you.

“Hey,” Ingrid said as you walked into the changing rooms. You didn’t even smile at her, just nodding and moving to your cubby. “Um … so, how come you were on the bus?” You froze. How did she know you got the bus?

“It’s just that we saw you as we were driving in. If you needed a lift, you could’ve just asked; you know we’d all be more than happy to —” Ona explained.

“Yeh, my d-dad only told me this morning that he couldn’t take me the whole way, so … he dropped me off near the metro, and I just got the bus from there,” you lied, rushing to gather your boots and head to the pitch. It was a blatant lie. Your voice was too high, and your hands shook slightly as you tried to devise a realistic excuse.

“Todas sabemos que era una mentira, verdad?” Mapi looked around as the door swung shut.

The following month in training was awkward, to say the least. After your slip-up with the bus, you made sure to take the earlier trains, getting to training before most people had even left their beds. You figured you’d use the time to prove to Alexia and the others that you wanted to be there. You were still benched, but your name was still on the game day sheet, so you liked to believe they weren’t thinking of selling you or cancelling your contract after the season ended. The issue was getting home. If you stayed late, you were often questioned, but if you were seen walking out of the car park, you were also questioned. You really needed to learn how to drive ... quickly.

Eventually, Jona could no longer justify you sitting on the bench. Barca had the Champions League semi-finals coming up, and everyone noted your absence on the pitch.

“Y/N, you will be playing the next match. You’re going to be a sub around 60 or 70 minutes.” It was a short announcement, but you couldn’t help your heart soar. Did this mean they finally believed you when you said that Barca was the best thing that happened to you? Alexia still hadn’t looked at you since That Day, but she was no longer actively seething, which you took as a win. But now you would be playing in the home leg of the Champions League semi-finals. You were nervous, but not because of the match; you were on a 0 – 3 aggregate, and you were going to be playing at Camp Nou – it was an almost guaranteed win –but because you knew the team would be more suspicious of your lack of parents.

You decided to do what you always did – never look to the crowd, do a lap of the stadium for the fans, hurry back into the changing rooms, and slip away. Simple. Easy. You had been doing it all your life. But you hadn’t accounted for how attentive the team would be. They watched you wearily from a distance, concerned when you made no effort to look to the friends and family section during warm-ups or after the match when everyone usually went to see their loved ones. You stayed back, signing more things for fans, and then headed straight to the tunnel. After the celebration in the changing rooms, you gathered your things and disappeared before anyone could bring them up. You had mastered the art of vanishing like a ghost after matches.

But now it was the final. It was obviously an away game, but everyone’s family came. Even the coaching staff brought their loved ones. Not you, though. Your parents hadn’t known you’d left the country, let alone understood that you were playing in the most prestigious match in Europe for clubs. You were in the Starting XI, but you weren’t nervous. You knew you could win this match; this Champions title was yours for the taking. You didn’t realise that the fact that you had no family would be exposed the minute the final whistle went.

You played the full 90 minutes and an extra 5 for injury time. You were exhausted, but that didn’t matter as soon as the clock ran out. You had done it. Champions of Europe. The screams and shouts were so loud it hurt your ears, but you didn’t care. You felt unstoppable.

“Vamos, pequeña. Donde esta tu mamí? Quiero finalmente conocer a la mujer a la que debemos agradecer por regalarle al mundo contigo.” Mapi said as you sat on the grass, your medal around your neck.

“Más tarde. I just want to sit here and soak this all in.” You waved her away. She took you at your word but made meaningful eyes at Alexia, having an unspoken conversation as you moved away. Alexia watched as you leaned back, resting on your arms, legs outstretched, and eyes shut – head tilted to feel the sun on your skin. She waited for 10 minutes, watching you make no effort to see your family. It was the first thing she had done after the trophy celebration. She had run straight to her mother and sister, thanking them profusely for all their sacrifices and expressing so much gratitude towards them – throwing her sweaty body at them and tackling them into long, tight hugs.

“Do you want to see your family now?” It was the first non-football-related words she’d said to you in well over a month.

“No, I’m ok. I’ll see them later,” you dismissed her quickly.

“Do you know where they are? We could bring them down onto the pitch if you don’t want to stand up.” She wasn’t letting this go. She had an inkling that she hoped was wrong.

“It’s alright, Ale. Honestly. I’m fine sitting here, soaking this all up by myself.” You hadn’t opened your eyes, so you had assumed from the quietness she had moved away. “It’s not like you’d find them anyway,” you whispered as an unwanted tear escaped you.

“Qué quieres decir, cariño?” Your eyes snapped open, coming face to face with Alexia, Ona and Keira. You sat up, trying to hide your face.

“Oh, noth-”

“No me mientas. Dónde están tu mamí y papí?” Alexia asked sternly. You misunderstood her, thinking she was angry at you. You shook your head, refusing to answer.

“Neña, are your parents here?” Ona asked quietly, coming to sit next to you. You took a deep breath.

“No. They aren’t.”

“Do you want to phone them?” Keira suggested, hoping that it was just because they couldn’t take time away from work to attend in person. She also sat down, gesturing her phone to you as an invitation to use it. You took another deep breath.

“I don’t think they even know I had a football match, let alone a Champions League final.” Another tear slipped down your cheek. Alexia sat in front of you, reaching for your hands.

“Qué quieres decir?” She asked again, thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of your hands.

“My parents … I don’t really know how to say it,” you paused, Ona gently rubbing your back comfortingly. “My parents don’t really … parent?” You chuckled lightly.

“They don’t support you?” Keira asked, her hand resting on your knee.

“They don’t care enough. They leave for weeks on end without telling me. I get food and stuff like that on my own. I’m basically raising myself at this point. I don’t think they know I have a contract with Barca. I doubt they even know I play football. They just let me do whatever I wanted as long as I was out of the house, not causing trouble and quiet; they didn’t care. They’re lucky I haven’t turned into a criminal or something.” You tried to add a joke to lighten the mood.

“But you said you meet up with your parents after home matches,” Ona couldn’t imagine achieving half the things she did without her family supporting her from the sidelines.

“And you told us your dad drops you off every morning on the way to work,” Keira added, equally disbelieving – her parents were her biggest fans.

“Yeh, I lied. I just go home after matches. And I get the metro to training.”

“But training is nowhere near the metro, and you don’t live near a metro station either.” She still didn’t want to consider what you were saying to be true.

You explained, “I get a bus from mine to the metro and then a bus from the metro to training.”

“That’s why you were getting off the bus that day when we saw you,” Ona realised. She hadn’t trusted your story but had considered no other possibilities.

“That’s why you're late to training sometimes? Because of the buses and trains?” Alexia asked, her hands never leaving yours.

“Yeh.” You looked down, ashamed of your situation and lying to them.

“And that day when you missed training. You weren’t sick. What happened?”

“I … um … the boiler broke, so I had to wait for someone to come fix it. Which they never did, by the way. I had to phone some random company that massively overcharged me, and the water definitely doesn’t get as hot as it used to.” You babbled nervously. “It wasn’t because I don’t want to be at Barca. It’s the only thing that keeps me going, knowing that I have you guys looking out for me. It makes everything else seem not as bad,” you whispered, needing them to know just how important Barca was to you. You looked around. Patri and Pina tried to do the perfect chest bump as Jana and Bruna filmed. Lucy was chasing her niece and nephew. Ingrid and Mapi were with Ingrid’s parents, smiling widely as they talked. Marta and Caro were sat off to one side, talking quietly. You could see the others dotted around the stadium, talking to fans, speaking to parents, and enjoying the support.

“Cariño, I am so sorry,” Alexia implored. I shouted at you and benched you. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t believe you took Barca seriously.”

“Why didn’t you tell us, neña?” Ona asked.

“We only want what’s best for you, kid,” Keira added.

“Um … I don’t really know. It doesn’t really matter. It’s been like this my whole life, so…”

“Cariño. It does matter. But we know now, and that’s all that matters, sí?” Alexia stood up, dragging you with her. “Let’s go see my family. Mi Mamí has been asking to meet you for ages. And before you say no, she already has plans for you to come round for dinner one night. Y en secreto, ella siempre quiso una tercera hija.” She said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as Ona took your hand.

“Oh, Eli will have to fight my Mama on that one, Ale. She always wanted a goal-scoring daughter.”

“Well, my mum says you are more than welcome to stay at her house if you ever visit the UK as long as you cook her paella.” Keira smiled.

Maybe your biological family was shite, but your found one certainly wasn't.

I hope you liked it <3

#barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #fc barcelona #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #woso fluff #woso oneshot #woso angst #woso #womens football #woso soccer

897 notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 7 months

Note

i hope your finger’s ok!! please take all the time you need and remember you health comes first :) imma be selfish and send you a charles request cause ur writing makes me smile at my phone like an idiot and i can’t help it :p ok so!! charles x versteppen reader? shes max’s sister and drives for redbull (cause im delulu like that) and they’ve been fighting w each other since they were kids (no one knows why they started arguing they’re j petty and refuse to give it up even though they dk what they’re arguing abt anymore) and obvs they’re in love w each other - maybe another drivers flirting w her or smth and charles j snaps and hard launches the reader cause surprise they’ve been dating each other 🤭 holy shit this is long sorry for rambling 🙏🙏

angel baby, devil child | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x verstappen!reader

enemies to lovers blah blah blah

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 1,743,200 others

yourusername: crazy, crazy race. sorry not sorry to the tifosi, tell ur girl @charles_leclerc to kiss my ass not my rear tyre xoxo

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user1: okay they're clearly still in the enemies phase... when can we skip to lovers

user2: i personally love that charles is the mortal enemy of both verstappen siblings that's so slay of him

maxverstappen1: crop me out again and say goodbye to a tow in qualifying

yourusername: sorry maxy, not my fault i got all the photogenic genes xx

maxverstappen1: erm rude @christianhorner tell her to stop bullying me

yourusername: two can play at that game @sebastianvettel tell max to stop being a baby

user3: the way neither christian or seb replied they really don't get paid enough to deal with them

charles_leclerc: what is it with verstappens and their love for pushing me off the track

yourusername: what is it with your front wing and my rear tyre

charles_leclerc: umm i asked you first

yourusername: stop deflecting babe, we all know you love my ass so much you wanted a touch

charles_leclerc: i'd rather deep fry my hands than touch your rear

maxverstappen1: that can be arranged

user4: can't wait for these three to all be in the same press conference next week 🍿

carlossainz55: my favourite person to share the podium with

yourusername: thanks chilli (@tifosi you heard it here sainz is against ferrari 1-2s)

carlossainz55: NO that's not what i meant

landonorris: i see how it is ... god all men are the same AM I NOT PRETTY ENOUGH FOR YOU?

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1,204,809 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: happy birthday to my bestest friend, biggest rival and favourite roommate. though maybe now you're 23 you can get your own place so you can sneak out to meet up with your secret boyfriend on your own terms and can keep that massive ballsack away from jimmy and sassy. i love you and verstappen dominance 4 ever.

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user7: i love y/n but i think she should bring her cat to races as a scare tactic

yourusername: wrinkle doesn't appreciate your tone but it is duly noted

yourusername: awwwwwwwww i love you maxy !! and you're never getting rid of your little sister unless you get married and ur a big fat nerd so that's never happening xx

maxverstappen1: attacking me after i just bought you a whole ass car

yourusername: i JOKE. thank you soooo much and you'll never get rid of me you love me too much to anyway.

maxverstappen1: enough to finally introduce me to the mystery man?

yourusername: blocked.

user8: are we all just ignoring her doing her literal eyeliner with a knife?

user9: or the fact that max likely walked in and was like oh wait this is a sick shot

danielricciardo: oh no that was me, i'm still traumatised but it's probably the best photo i've ever taken

yourusername: easy to do with a model like me

charles_leclerc: wtf is that thing in the last one

yourusername: rude of you to think ur balls look any nicer

charles_leclerc: what?

yourusername: what?

user10: does anyone want to elaborate?

carlossainz55: happy birthday y/n !

yourusername: thanks carlos, thank you for the flowers 👍

user11: this is either their way of flirting or y/n really couldn't give a flying fuck about carlos' obvious crush on her

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 2,098,560 others

yourusername: another trip around the sun and still following my brother around, difference is now i beat him x

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user16: your honour i am so obsessed with her

maxverstappen1: can't even be angry about it, you deserve the world

yourusername: you softy, i love you

maxverstappen1: also dummy i know who your boyfriend is now did you guys forget that we LITERALLY LIVE TOGETHER

yourusername: i was intoxicated my bad but we bought you breakfast?

maxverstappen1: literally the only reason he hasn't gone over the balcony, he might want to be gone before this hangover wears off

yourusername: noted.

user17: yall want to share with the class?

user18: based on ^^ this reaction i'm going to say it's not carlos

user19: watch out he'll drop a shit pick-up line in a second and be rejected

carlossainz55: hope you enjoyed your birthday beautiful

user20: bro this guy STINKS

user19: i told yall

yourusername: thank you carlos

user21: i'm sorry this is dry as hell it can't be carlos

charles_leclerc: my shoes will never recover, i'll be sending an invoice your way

yourusername: you're a millionaire boo, you can replace those tacky white trainers yourself

charles_leclerc: is having no manners a verstappen trait?

yourusername: come for max all you want, but the birthday girl? low leclerc

charles_leclerc: when you go low i go lower

yourusername: oh believe me i know all about you and going down

user22: DO YALL MIND?

user23: do they think we're dumb?

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, lancestroll and 1,204,674 others

charles_leclerc: a weekend without racing?

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user24: what is biden doing about the soft launch pandemic?

user25: well this is oddly timed ...

yourusername: you look like you'd have sweaty hands

charles_leclerc: wouldn't you like to know

yourusername: unlike all ur fangirls i've actually smelt you sweaty after a race so you can keep your hands to yourself

maxverstappen1: you heard her 🤨

charles_leclerc: why are you here? is this a 2 for 1 deal on annoying dutch people

yourusername: you can call him annoying all you want, but you love me don't lie

charles_leclerc: my lawyer says i shouldn't comment on that ;)

sebastianvettel: when will you two stop?

yourusername: sorry seb :(

charles_leclerc: sorry seb :(

user26: i know carlos is sick reading this weird flirting when y/n never comments on his pics

user27: she comes here just to flirt cause she didn't even like the photo

user28: she doesn't even follow him 😭

pierregasly: i love a slow burn as much as the next person BUT NOT WHEN I DON'T KNOW WHO IT IS PICK UP THE PHONE

charles_leclerc: you're so dramatic, nobody knows calmar

maxverstappen1: he's lying i do

pierregasly: WHAT

charles_leclerc: by ACCIDENT i didn't tell him by choice

user29: so like, it's definitely y/n LOL

user30: oh no everyone get ready marca is going to run a story tomorrow about how charles leclerc is ruining carlos' career with psychological warfare by flirting with the girl he likes

user31: sainz sr about to wage war lol

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 2,304,889 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: i don't share. i love you. please follow me on instagram now (and let me come on max's jet) x

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user35: HOLY FUCK

user36: they're so fucking sexy my lord

yourusername: you're so weak, one teammate flirts with me and you hard launch, i've had 12 year olds use me as a face claim to pretend they're pregnant with your child

charles_leclerc: they took your face? i happen to quite like it, can they give it back?

yourusername: quite?

charles_leclerc: don't make me look bad you know i positively LOVE YOUR FACE

yourusername: and my ass since it's all you look at on track

charles_leclerc: okay you can drop the act now people know we're in love stop being mean to me :(

yourusername: but it's true, no?

charles_leclerc: rest assured i love your actual ass much more

maxverstappen1: believe me the people she lives with know WAY too much about how much you love it

user37: carlos sainz really thought he had a chance when these fools have been together for TWO years

sebastianvettel: congratulations you two, glad we don't have to watch you two trying to be subtle now

maxverstappen1: so wait when did you find out?

sebastianvettel: about two weeks into the relationship, they were very obvious

yourusername: thank you for keeping our secret dad <3

user38: y/n really said you ARE my grid dad

yourusername: oh no that's my actual dad

charles_leclerc: he's literally going to walk y/n down the aisle

maxverstappen1: please don't tell me you're engaged? i only just got over you actually being together

charles_leclerc: i'm not your brother yet don't worry (i will be soon)

carlossainz55: congrats guys

user39: it's okay bro you can cry

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,301,541 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: two years with the love of my life, still on max's side on val d'argenton x

view all comments

user40: they're disgusting (when will it happen to me)

charles_leclerc: we'll have to agree to disagree

yourusername: just admit it you love to push verstappens off the track

charles_leclerc: sorry babe as much as i love you, i'll never let you win x

yourusername: good thing i always beat you then x

charles_leclerc: either way victory sex still bangs

user41: yes, yes they're cute, but i need a full on play-by-play of how this relationship came to be

user42: i know these menaces were giggling and kicking their feet every time they had an argument in comment sections

yourusername: oh it was very fun

charles_leclerc: but the radio messaged are 100% real lol

maxverstappen1: thanks for having my back, you're welcome for all the gross pictures i've taken for you guys

yourusername: consider your payment like every meal i make us

maxverstappen1: well if i did it f1 would be down three drivers

user43: wait so does charles basically live with them now?

maxverstappen1: unfortunately yes. depressing music, even worse cooking than me and horrendously loud sex with my sister. i should kick him out

charles_leclerc: i literally bought you noise-cancelling headphones?

maxverstappen1: nothing you can say will save me from this trauma

yourusername: just shag daniel and get off of our case x

note: ahhhhh i am so sorry this request took so long, my inbox keeps moving stuff around lol. my finger is good thanks for asking, the human body is a wonder and i peeled off the last of my scab this week lol. i hope this was the kinda thing you were looking for !! xx

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc instagram edit #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc x you

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flamingpudding · 9 months

Text

Gaming Pal Prompt

A/N: Random Idea that was stuck in my head after reading about a Pen Pal Prompt

It all started with a simple accidentally created open lobby. Sam, Tucker and Danny were just playing Doom in a four person Lobby that was supposed to be passcode locked and private so that it was only the three of them playing. But one of them must have forgotten to lock it as suddenly a random player joined them as well as the in-game voice chat they were using.

"Sup. Mind if I join the game? My last lobby kicked me."

"Why? Too good or too bad?"

Tucker shot back, not minding the new player. The three would just have to watch what they talk about during game time.

"Don't know. I think they thought I cheated."

"Pff, sore losers. Maybe you can help these losers kick ass."

"Oh shut it Sam, we will wipe the floor with you now!"

"A challenge huh? That sounds interesting. I am Tim by the way."

"Sam."

"Tucker."

"Danny."

The friend request was sent after the game in which Tim did help Tucker and Danny beat Sam. Only for Sam to demand a rematch to regain her victory streak. From then on the random player regularity started joining in on their games whenever he happened to be online at the same time.

Of course the trio filtered their talks over voice chat. Making sure they wouldn't let anything atrocious slip. Though they did have some fun telling a non Amity Parker about the shit that goes down in their town and Tim always appeared interested to hear more about the things going on. Always curious and full of follow up questions, that strangely focus on who the attackers were ( always ghosts really they don't have any other rogues aside from maybe the fruitloop) and other times very much focused on their local ghost hero Phantom. He was also strangely interested in the whole GIW situation and sounded rather confused when they mentioned the Anti-Ecto Acts.

Aside from that Tim practically became a part of their little group. Their online Gamer Pal who knew nearly as much about their rogues and local Hero (thanks to all the questions he asked) like they did. A full fledged Team Phantom member who just didn't know the main secret of Danny actually doing the Ghost fighting as Phantom and being the one getting hunted by his own Parents and the GIW.

So of course the day came where Sam, Tucker and Danny forget to filter their words. It was during one particularly exhausting day when Danny had only had like 4 hours of sleep because he had studied all night for an English Test and then Skulker appeared to hunt Phantom and Danny's parents showed up too, making souping the Hunter Ghost especially difficult.

"Ancients, Skulker just had to decide on hunting you today, didn't he Danny?"

"Don't remind me. He is still souped in the thermos, but dodging Mom was harder with so little sleep."

"Should you like take a nap then man?"

"Nah I am fine for gaming night."

"Hey Danny, you did escape the blasters unscratched right? Your mom is the better shot after all."

"Nearly. Mom landed a couple of hits but it's almost healed already, just some small burn marks left."

"I am sorry, WHAT?! Did you guys just say that Skulker, the one that's hunting Phantom for sports, was hunting Danny. Danny was the one to Soup him not Phantom and Danny's Mom shot and hurt her own son with one of these ecto-blasters?!"

#danny fenton #danny phantom #tim drake #sam manson #tucker foley #dp x dc #dc x dp #crossover #Tim becomes the trios gaming pal #Tim has a lot of questions #Sam Tucker and Danny don't mind him gaming with them #They forget he isn't only a gaming pal at some point #They also forget he is in the voice chat one day #Tim was already worried about Amity before #now he got more to investigate there #should he clue in the bat fam?#dpxdc #dcxdp #prompt idea

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milaeth · 9 months

Text

୨୧┊ 𝐈𝐈. 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒. ( charles leclerc )

ꖛ ─ you’re reading part two ∿ part one ∿ part three

✧.* pairings ─ charles leclerc x fem! singer! reader

✧.* genre ─ social media au ⨾ fluff & chaotic

✧.* summary ─ in which your best friend George gets fed up with watching you and Charles secretly yearn for each other while claiming to be just friends. so, when you lose a bet to George, he takes control of your social media accounts for 24 hours, using the opportunity to help you make a move on your crush.

✧.* face claim ─ suki waterhouse

✧.* warnings ─ some suggestive jokes, other than that this is just as chaotic as the first part

✧.* mily’s thoughts ─ part three is coming soon! hope you enjoy mwah <3

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ charles <3 . ✧ ˚

y/n: hey charles i really don’t want to be a bother but i quickly wanted to apologize for the insta post that was made about us a few hours ago!

charles <3: Hey, don’t worry, you’re not a bother! :) And I don’t really care about the post.

y/n: wait

y/n: you don’t care?

charles <3: Nope, I thought the whole flirting thing (the comments etc) was just a joke between friends, yk. At first I was a little confused, to be honest, since we don't usually joke like that, but I figured it was just the way you interact with people you feel more comfortable with!

[ seen 1:29pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

y/n: i’m so scared

princess george: WHAT DID HE SAY

y/n: he thinks it was a flirty joke between friends

princess george: HUH? So I did all that painfully obvious flirting for nothing💀

y/n: AHA

y/n: SO YOU DID DO ALL THESE THINGS TO GET ME TO CONFESS TO CHARLES.

princess george: Someone had to do it! I'm sick of watching you guys literally be in love with the other and still claim to be "just friends" 🤓

y/n:🧍‍♀️

y/n: that isn’t the point now

y/n: the point is WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY

princess george: YOU HAVENT REPLY YET??

y/n: NO I LEFT HIM ON READ BC I PANICKED IDK

princess george: i'm going to have to call carmen to give you some girly advice if you don't start getting bold💀

y/n: OKAYOKAY BUT WHAT SHOULD I SAY

y/n: HURRY UP HES BEEN ON SEEN FOR FIVE MINUTES NOW

princess george: IDK ASK GOOGLE

y/n: GEORGE WTF

princess george: DONT ‘GEORGE WTF’ ME! YOU KNOW I DONT WORK WELL UNDER PEER PRESSURE

y/n: you’re a racing driver💀

princess george: your point?

[ seen 1:37pm ]

princess george: hello???

[ seen 1:38pm ]

y/n: I ASKED GOOGLE LIKE YOU TOLD ME TO AND THEY DIDNT DO SHIT

y/n: they had the audacity to correct me too

princess george: 💀💀

[ seen 1:40pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ charles <3 . ✧ ˚

y/n: you think it was a joke?

charles <3: Well yeah

charles <3 I mean

charles <3: It couldn’t have been anything more

y/n: what if it was tho?

y/n: hypothetical ofc!!!!

charles <3: Well I honestly don’t know

charles <3: If we are speaking hypothetically, I think I would be flattered.

y/n: and if we aren’t speaking hypothetically?

charles <3: Then I would probably still feel flattered.

charles <3: Y/n? Hello?

y/n: SORRY MY PHONE FELL DOWN

charles <3: LMAO

charles <3: Does that mean those flirty jokes weren’t just jokes?

y/n: well.. to me, they’re not jokes, but i’m not the one who made them. i wasn’t supposed to tell you yet but i’m getting sick of george so idc

y/n: i lost a bet to him and had to hand over my main social media accounts for 24 hours, meaning all the comments/posts you saw from my main accounts were made by george😭

charles <3: That explains why I saw your private accounts constantly fight with your main accounts in random comment sections💀

y/n: yeah he was really messing with me

y/n: i’ve gotten lots of angry mails from my pr team

charles <3: I can imagine😭 It's only fair that you get back at him.

y/n: oh absolutely.

charles <3: Can I ask a question though?

y/n: sure!

charles <3: Is your newest single actually about me?

y/n: yes it is. i’m sorry you have to find out like this but i really like you, like a lot. i’ve liked you for a while now but i was too scared to talk to you about it because i thought you don’t feel the same.

charles <3: That’s not true

charles <3: I actually do feel the same, and I literally had the same dilemma!

y/n: WHAT

y/n: YOU ALSO LIKE ME??

charles <3: YES!! I really like you :)

y/n: SINCE WHEN

charles <3: Probably since the day I first met you

y/n: no way i thought you hated me back then💀

charles <3: No don’t worry I didn’t😭 My brother Arthur said I always have this certain look to myself when I meet new people. He said I tend to look a little “off” when I’m overwhelmed, so that was probably it lol

y/n: oh yeah, george said the same about you

charles <3: Aha very nice of him💀

charles <3: Btw I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by asking this, but what are we now? I’m just a little confused

y/n: how about we take it slow and start going on little dates? like trying this whole thing out and seeing if we can actually be more than friends.

charles <3: I had the same in mind :)

charles <3: And George still has control over your main accounts?

y/n: yep for the next 2-3 hours :’)

charles <3: alright, ready to get back at him?

y/n: ABSOLUTELY

[ seen 1:59pm ]

˗ˏ ➶ IMESSAGE ➜ w/ princess george . ✧ ˚

princess george: Y/N DID HE REPLY YET?

[ sent 1:43pm ]

princess george: Y/N?

princess charles: HELLOOOO

[ sent 1:44pm ]

princess george: CMON I CAN SEE YOURE ONLINE

[ sent 1:46pm ]

princess george: DONT BE SO CRUEL

princess george: PLEASEEE

princess george: I WANNA KNOW WHAT HE SAID

[ sent 1:50pm ]

princess george: UGH fine

princess george: Guess my finger slipped again🙄🙄🙄

[ sent 1:55pm ]

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, georgerussell63 and 8,379,158 others

yourusername save a horse, ride a char- COWBOY

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 268,368 comments…

user375 HELP ME WHAT

user121 girl you gotta stop being horny on the internet😭

georgerussell63 Oh. My. God.😲😲 Y/n this isn’t your private account

user54 you’re acting very sus there mate

user488 well someone needs to get laid💀

user224 simp of the day🫵

pierregasly i can’t watch this

yourusername then look away🤷‍♀️😂

user865 you’re so relatable

user308 cowboy charles😍😍

urusername_alt🔒 YOU DID NOT

yourusername I did xx

urusername_alt🔒 DELETE THIS RN

yourusername Nopee

carlos55sainz I’m so confused

charles_leclerc my lap is free🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️

yourusername WHAT

urusername_alt🔒 wait- fr?🤭🤭

landonorris pause. stop right there.

yourusername | 📍 paris, france

liked by senelagomez, carlos55sainz and 21,488,321 others

yourusername feels good to finally have this account back

view all 170,325 comments…

zendaya stunning as always✨

liked by yourusername

user965 mother is mothering🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

user233 does a stronger word than mother exist??

user355 @/charlesleclerc you better wife her up before i do

user212 there’s no way they’re actually together, now that she revealed that george was behind all those comments/posts

user593 i was NOT prepared

charles_leclerc come to monaco, we miss you

landonorris who’s we

yourusername @/landonorris stfu you salty bitch, you’re just jealous i didn’t visit you last year💀

charles_leclerc just added to their story !

∿ taglist ─ @81astri @ch3rryknots @cs55version @fdl305 @remuslupinsbtch @kissesandmartinis @teenagedreams-cl @headinthecloudssblog @mrsmaybank13 @glai1023-blog @luvrrish @hevburn @charlespear @bibissparkles @siovhanroy ( my taglist if you want to get tagged in my works )

don’t forget to like, comment & reblog (it’s very much appreciated <3).

#·˚ ༘ ☕️ — mily’s writings !#formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one x reader #f1 driver imagines #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #formula one x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x y/n

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hysteria-things · 3 months

Note

can you do a story where y/n is really sick (a cold)

and chris is loving and takes cares of her

SNUG AS A BUG

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve been fighting this terrible cold for about a week, and your boyfriend loves to take care of you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing, crying

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 570

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: fun fact this is based off when i was sick and dying in like october LMAO it was the worst i’ve ever felt.

hope you like it anon!

i’m feeling jolly today so i might post a smut later ;)

here’s to day a million of being sick. realistically, it’s only been a week, but you still felt like shit.

the TV was playing your favorite show since you’ve had enough free time to binge. it feels like you’ve been glued to the couch forever.

tissues were scattered on the snack table next to you along with two empty bowls — one with soup from breakfast and one with ice cream. those are the only two things you can eat since your throat is killing you.

your parents have to work, so chris has been coming over to take care of you when they’re not available.

the front door opens; you don’t have the energy to look at who it is (even though you know)

“i got you your soup from wawa and some more water.” chris smiles sympathetically at you, placing the things on the table.

“thank you.” you hoarse out.

“how are you feeling?”

“terrible.”

he pouts. “i’m going to go to your room for just a second. let me know if you need anything.”

you nod as he walks away, making his way up the staircase. however, he pauses midway when he hears your sniffles.

it’s not just congested sniffles. they’re cry sniffles.

he snaps his head to you. you have the soup in your hands, but you’re not eating it. instead, you’re using the spoon to mix it.

he quickly goes back down the stairs to come rushing to you. “oh, no. none of that.” he takes his thumbs and wipes your tears, leaving his hands cupping your cheeks afterward.

“i don’t want to be sick anymore.” you sob. his heart is breaking seeing you like this. he hates it when you’re upset. “my h-head hurts so bad. a-and i feel so weak.”

“i know, i’m sorry.” he places your head into his stomach since he’s standing in front of you, and your tears start to wet his shirt. “just keep taking the medicine the doctor gave you and you’ll get better in no time.”

“i don’t want the soup.” you cry. you tend to say nonsense when you’re this upset about something.

“that’s okay.” he grabs it from your hands and places it with the other bowls. “we can save it for later, alright?”

a chill runs up your spine. chris starts to take the blanket off of your body and before you can protest, he speaks. “let’s bring you to bed. it’s much more comfortable.”

he takes your hands in his and helps you off the couch, walking at your pace until you’re upstairs and into your room. you immediately head under the covers, plus two more blankets for your chills.

chris starts tucking you in with a goofy grin on his face, as if he’s a father tucking in his child. “feel snug?”

you smile warmly. “as a bug.”

“i’m going to go get your medicine and water so you have them. i’ll be right back.”

you yawn but nod as he leaves the room.

moments later chris returns, but you already passed out. he quietly makes his way into the room when he notices this, placing the items on your nightstand.

he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before kneeling to kiss you on the forehead. “i love you.” he whispers, backing out of the room and closing the door, leaving you to sleep for the rest of the afternoon.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo fluff #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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toxicanonymity · 4 months

Text

twin peaks.

4k, Joel x afab!reader x Tommy, ONE SHOT A/N: This is my @pedrostories secret santa gift. @endlessthxxghts, you're on my nice list. Happy holidays! ♥️ Ty for the flexibility and for engaging with fics you like, which gave more ideas 🖤. Please excuse the extra men, don't need to remember names. Ty @jksprincess10 for your afab insights! WARNINGS: I8+, Motorcycle Club AU, but Joel is no longer riding. You're a chef. Language. Bar fight. Blood. Gunfire. My first attempt at mild grumpy/sunshine. Passing reference to a bar server's prior SA incident. An OC gets in your personal space and touches your side. Hurt/Comfort. Minor love triangle, I guess, but everyone’s cool. Unsafe P in V, creampies. MFM but only joel inside. The men can lift you. You’re shorter than them. Competency kink, mild size kink, sharing. Starts in Joel POV. Finished & "edited" on covid & meds, fck it we ball! BIKER JOEL RECS: both sides of the moon by @lunitawrites and (and ty for this list luna lol) a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore., the road to love by @jobean12-blog

dividers from @cafekitsune for POV change and time jump

“Changed the recipe,” Joel grumbles.

Tommy shakes his head with a smile. “Ya know, brother. . . you might be the only one who comes here for the wings.”

“Cause they’re the best. Or they *were*. Taste this.” Joel pushes the basket over to Tommy and takes a swig of beer, then adds, “If I wanna see some skin, I’ll go to a proper titty bar.”

The uniforms are cute at Twin Peaks, but Joel is there for two reasons: the wings and the company. He sold his Harley and quit the club after a minor accident. It left him only a little scraped up but scared his daughters to death. Now these biker bars are the only place he sees his old crew.

“Shit, they did change it,” Tommy concedes. “Maybe ya should send’em back,” he teases.

“Not a bad idea,” Joel mutters.

“Really?” Tommy asks.

“‘S’cuse me. Miss?” The scantily clad server turns around. “They musta changed the recipe, I can’t eat these.”

“Oh no,” the server frowns. “Sorry ‘bout that, lemme see what I can do.” The server takes the wings back to the kitchen.

A minute later, you emerge from the kitchen in your chef’s whites and Joel does a double take. You smile at him as you approach.

“Oh, shit,” Tommy elbows him, but Joel hardly notices. He’s captivated by you, but he keeps a straight face.

“Heard the wings weren’t to your liking,” you cringe empathetically.

“Why’d ya go and change the Hot Honey recipe.”

“I’m sorry, hun. Hot Honey’s off the menu, that’s the closest we’ve got.”

“It’s *what* now? Why’d ya take it off?”

You sigh with an apologetic smile. “Wasn’t my call.” Then you perk up. “But I think you might really like the new Thai Spice recipe,” you smile.

“Don’t think so,” Joel grumbles.

“He don’t like change,” Tommy explains.

“How ‘bout a basket on the house?” You offer with a tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows.

Joel is flustered by your charm. “Uh, sure,” he mutters, trying not to check you out. Not much to see anyway with that chef’s apron.

“If ya like’em, buy me a drink sometime,” you add with a wink that makes Joel lose all his thoughts for a moment.

“Yes, chef,” Joel nods, which makes both you and Tommy giggle. Then you turn and head back to the kitchen.

“I dunno what they see in ya, man,” Tommy teases Joel and watches as you walk away. “Mm. Hottest thing here and dressed like a paper towel roll.” Joel fails to suppress a chuckle. “You gonna share?”

“We’ll see.”

The front door to the restaurant opens, and a hush falls over the dining room.

Joel looks over his shoulder for only a second, then turns back toward the bar and mutters, “Fuckin’ Benny.”

“And the Jets,” Tommy adds as Johnny and at least half the rival crew follow Benny into the restaurant. Great, there’s Cal, Carter’s rotten brother. Real bad guy. Their motorcycle club is dangerous.

Joel gets his wallet out of his pocket and pulls out a few twenties, then downs the rest of his beer. “Didn’t come to babysit.”

“Think it’ll get ugly?” Tommy asks. “What about your new friend?”

“My new friend?”

“‘member what happened with Carter’s girl?” Of course Joel remembers. Cal got handsy with her, Carter put him in a chokehold, and a nasty fight broke out. Carter got stabbed.

“Well, I ain’t in charge and don’t got a sweetheart, so I reckon chef hottie’s okay. Where’s Carter?”

“Home. Can’t ride, already busted his stitches open once.”

“Good. His girl ain’t workin’ either.” Joel’s face tenses and his nostrils flare as his gaze falls on Cal. “Cal shouldn’t be here.” Joel has to look away before his rage gets the best of him. Joel glances at a table of his own guys (now Carter's), and he isn’t surprised to see one of his buddies putting on brass knuckles. Ya don’t stab the leader and get away with it, but Joel sure wishes this would go down somewhere else. Joel does a double take when he sees another man at the same table reach for his hip. “Damnit, Harold,” Joel whispers to himself.

“Better hit the boys room ‘fore all hell breaks loose,” Tommy mutters and gets up from his chair.

—---you—--

Tonight’s the first time you’ve spoken with Joel, but you’ve noticed him before. His quiet, dark gaze is hypnotizing. The girls are all over him, and he doesn’t show any interest. He sits there scowling with his drink.

When the chatter of the restaurant abruptly dies down, a pit forms in your stomach. Heavy boots click on the floor, and it sounds like they’re slowly circling the room like sharks. “Hey sweetheart,” Benny croons out of view in that deep, smooth voice. He looks like a young, brunette Elvis. “You new?”

“Started this week,” the new bartender answers bashfully.

“Bet they didn’t teach ya the whole job. Benny'll show ya the ropes,” says a deep voice that makes you bristle. It’s smooth. Southern. Sinister. It's Cal. You can visualize his infectious wink.

One of your cooks puts Joel’s new wing basket on expo. You compose yourself and grab it with a smile. “I’ll take this one.” You put on your blinders and don’t make eye contact with any of the men, but you notice Tommy walk by, headed toward the back.

Before you make it behind the bar, Cal intercepts you. “Whoa, what’s cookin’, baby? You believe this, Benny? Keepin’ top talent locked up in the back.”

Benny’s too wrapped up with the server to respond.

“Thanks for the snack,” Cal tells you with his eyes roving your apron as he reaches for the basket. You pull it back. “Hey, what’s under this, anyway?” He skims your apron from the side and crowds you against the wall. He braces his arm against the wall, over you. “Got one of them sexy uniforms under this?”

“Excuse me,” you say and try to duck under and around him.

“I wouldn’t move, darlin’,” Cal taunts.

“What the hell are you doin’ back here,” a man asks behind Cal.

Cal laughs and looks over his shoulder, and you manage to free yourself.

“Ain’t worth it, Harold,” Joel warns as he approaches, then Joel turns his attention to you. “You okay?”

-. . .-

Joel gets between you and the brawling men. You hear a blow land on someone, and they spit. Then there’s a click, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, tackled by Joel as a gunshot makes your ears ring. The wind is knocked out of you.

Joel is on top of you, and time seems to slow down. Cal is slumped against the wall behind Joel, bleeding from the mouth and chest with a menacing smile.

“Look at me,” Joel says and his massive hand turns your head to face him, bracing his other arm near your head on the tiled floor. “Look at me and only me.” His body is heavy on top of yours.

You nod as chaos unfolds in the dining room.

“You okay?” Joel searches your face.

You nod again, and try to ground yourself with everything you’re physically feeling. The coldness of the tile under your hand. The weight of his body on top of you. The warmth of. . .the massive bulge pressing into your thigh. Joel doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but you sure are now. A wave of desire overwhelms you. Your thigh lifts against his hardening package and it twitches but he still doesn’t seem to notice with everything else going on. He glances behind himself.

“Gonna get ya outta here,” he promises. “Ready?”

Behind you, someone opens the door to the men’s room, belt jingling. “Shit.” You recognize Tommy’s voice.

“Bathroom,” Joel commands as he helps you up, then gently pushes you into Tommy’s arms. He nods toward the family restroom, which has a lock. “Gonna take this outside,” Joel pants as he heads into the fray.

“Joel, don’t–you’re outnumbered, don’t get yourself killed,” Tommy pleads. There’s another gunshot. “Shit, I’ll be right there!” he shouts at Joel

“NO,” Joel barks.

Tommy forces you into the family restroom and locks the door behind the two of you. “You okay?” he asks. You don’t answer. You wouldn’t be able to without crying. He rubs your back, then searches your face. “Breathe for me, darlin’.”

You tug at the high collar of your chef’s apron, trying to unbutton it for relief. Tommy quickly rips it open, exposing your tank top. His eyes linger for a moment, then he cradles your head and takes a deep breath, guiding you in your own breathing. He exhales, then murmurs, “You’re okay, honey.”

You nod and take the apron off entirely, with him supporting you. “Yeah,” you laugh not to cry, but with tears in your eyes. “I’m good.”

“Good, good. C’mere, darlin’.” His strong arms wrap you in a gentle, protective hug, cradling your head into his barrel chest. You take a deep breath, and the scent of his shampoo intoxicates you. “You’re okay,” he repeats.

You pull your head back to look up at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches. Then something else twitches, against your middle. That’s when you feel the denim slide under your hand and realize you’ve grabbed Tommy’s ass. What the fuck. You yank your hand out of his back pocket and stammer “Sorry–” feeling like your face is on fire. Why did you do that? You try to pull away but he gently holds you close.

“‘S’okay,” he chuckles. “Adrenaline. It’s normal.” He dips his head and it’s close to yours. It gets a little closer, then there’s more gunfire and he releases his gentle hold on you. He bolts toward the door. “Lock it behind me” is the only thing he says as he leaves.

You lock the door, then slump down against the wall. Is this real life? What’s gotten into you? Feeling up Tommy Miller in the bathroom less than an hour after you asked his brother out. Yeah, it must be adrenaline. The noise of the fight fades into the background while your thoughts drift back to Joel saving you. He’s so big and strong. So protective. You’ve heard how dangerous he is, but to see him in action? While he’s saving you, no less?

Finally the noises have died down. You wonder if it’s safe to leave. You worry about whether Joel and Tommy and your line cooks are okay. You wait a little longer, then unlock the door and peek your head out. Cal staggers toward you, dripping blood. “It’s okay, I’m alright,” he drawls. Then you swiftly close and lock the door, heart pounding. A few seconds later, boots thud across the dining room and a punch is thrown. You hear Cal groan. “C’mon, man.” Another blow lands and Cal goes silent. There’s a knock at the bathroom door.

“It’s me.” Joel’s voice. You’re still near the door. You unlock it for him. He comes inside and you must look terrified. He holds your cheeks, and his face and shirt are splattered with blood - surely not his own. He hugs you into him. “It’s me, baby. You’re okay.” His voice is deep and soft. He holds you for a minute. When he pulls back again to look at you, his eyes fall to your tank top and he wets his lips. He looks in your eyes again, then at your mouth.

You close the distance with a soft kiss. Joel’s mouth spreads your lips open, and his tongue finds yours. As the kiss heats up, he pulls you tighter, moaning “Mm,” and you feel it again, you feel him. His hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling your hips into his, and he’s firmer. Lord, is he hung. He lets out a low growl from his chest, and he walks forward against you until the backs of his hands nudge the sink counter – thankfully clean.

He bends down and his mouth latches onto your neck. He slips his fingertips into the front waistband of your pants, grabbing the button, then pulls away from your neck to pleadingly meet your eyes, and you nod urgently. He takes your pants and underwear down in a flash, then his hand engulfs your bare pussy and he groans at how wet you are. He kisses your neck again for a moment before hooking his massive hands, one of them wet, around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you onto the sink with a grunt as your legs wrap around him and you feel a rush of desire.

Joel sloppily kisses around your mouth with one hand between your legs and the other cradling your head. His scruff scratches you pleasantly. You grope him through his jeans, which are slick with your arousal, as you unbutton and unzip him. Then his own hand dives into his boxers and frees his thick cock, holding it at the right angle to slide right into you, pants and boxers resting below his balls.

“C’mere, baby.” He runs his stiff cock through your folds and you slowly grind against it with a moan. He spits on his shaft and his swollen, leaking tip prods at your entrance for only a moment before plunging into your wet hole and spreading your insides with his girth. There’s a brief burn, then your body catches up. On his second go, he bottoms out with a groan, and you gasp.

“Yeah,” he sighs and begins to fuck you, slowly at first. “How’s that?”

You can only nod, feeling so full of him you can hardly listen or form thoughts. “Ohh,” you whimper as he stuffs you with his massive cock. Your skin feels hot. He speeds up to a moderate pace and you both moan and grunt as you fuck. He kisses and sucks your neck, moaning into your skin, then he breathes against it. He fucks you harder, deeper

“How’s it feel, baby–ohhh” He slams his pelvis into yours each time.

“Ohhh, God, it’s, yeah, nngh–ohh”

Footsteps come down the hall, and stop outside the door.

“Wait,” you whisper.”

“Want me to wait?” he whispers teasingly, slowing down to an excruciating pace, dragging slow and heavy inside you.

You shake your head no.

“Good,” he whispers.

Tommy’s knowing voice outside the door: “Catch y’all later.” Then the footsteps recede.

“Now please, please” you beg, wanting it harder again. You pull him close and grind your pelvis into his in just the right spot. “Ohh, Joel.” The pleasure overwhelms you and you whimper as you begin to clench and pulse.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “Where do you want it?”

“Right here,” you nod, pulling him closer, keeping him inside with your legs around him.

Joel erupts with a groan, filling your hot, wet cunt with warm bursts, slowly thrusting into you as he empties his balls.

“God damn, you’re somethin’ else.”

---a few weeks later—

"Ain't wearin' a stupid holiday sweater," Joel grumbles. You and Joel have been seeing each other, and now you're going to Tommy’s holiday party with him.

"C'mon, just for the party. It'll be fun," you smile hopefully.

"Gimme a break, baby. Nothin' fun about sweaters."

"Don't be a Grinch," you pout.

"Thought I was a Scrooge," he retorts.

"What if I let you fuck me in Tommy's bed?"

He squints at you. "God damnit, my heart just grew three sizes."

You look down at his jeans and smile saucily. You don't have to make the joke out loud. "Can't wait," you purr and hand him the sweater.

"Tommy'd lose his mind," Joel shakes his head, then raises his eyebrows. "And not in the bad way."

"Oh yeah?"

Joel gives a low whistle. "You should see him droolin' when ya walk away." Joel chuckles, and your face heats up.

"Well. Maybe we shouldn't, then. . ."

"Don't see why not," Joel shrugs.

You look away shyly.

"What's got you all flustered?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, but you can't push away the thought of Tommy walking in and losing his 'mind.'

Joel smirks. "Don't look like nothin'."

"Just excited to see you in a sweater," you run your hand through his curls.

"I ain't the jealous type if ya wanna give Tommy some sugar, too."

You gasp and can't hide your embarrassed smile. Your face is burning. "He told you.”

Joel plays stupid. “Told me what?”

Your hand drifts up to cover your mouth.

“Just sayin’, if ya wanna grab him in a nicer setting. . .”

“Joel!" You gently smack his chest.

“Musta been the highlight of his life,” Joel laughs. “Post-divorce, at least.”

"Naughty list for you." You press his sweater into his chest and go to the closet to change into your own.

----

When you’re standing at the door of Tommy’s ranch, your heart is racing.

“Relax, baby.” He rubs your back.

“You were serious?” you ask.

“Yeah, but ya don’t gotta. Just sayin’ it’s fair game.”

Your eyes meet and he cups your cheek. You whisper, “thanks for wearing the sweater.”

Joel gives you a kiss right as the door opens, and Tommy teases, “You two need a room already?” Tommy’s wearing a festive cardigan open over a wifebeater and his huge belt buckle. He stands aside to let you in, and you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your mouth.

Sarah brings her husband, and you spend much of the night talking to them, hearing old stories about Joel. It’s a small party, adults only, and most of the parents have to get home to their babysitters, but Ellie is staying at Bill and Frank’s for the week to help with their Christmas tree farm. It’s a real treat for her and also her first “job.”

—

You don’t steal Joel away during the party, and he doesn’t try either. But when everyone else is gone, you and Joel stay for a drink with Tommy. He offers that you’re welcome to stay over since the kids are with Maria.

“Where ya want us?” Joel asks.

“Well, my bed’s the most comfy,” Tommy looks at you and adds a wink that gives you butterflies.

Joel nods with an intrigued frown. “Whatcha think, honey?”

“Okay,” you nod. You’re afraid to act too eager, but can hardly believe your luck.

In Tommy’s room, Tommy reclines on the bed, while Joel holds you in a hug. Joel turns your chin to meet his eyes and asks “Comfortable?”

You nod and smile.

“Ready to be even more comfortable?”

Joel kisses you gently, sensually. Then his lips become hungrier, and you lose yourself in his rising desperation. He moans into your mouth and pulls you closer against him. He walks against you until you’re at the bed, and when you glance back to make sure you don’t fall, you see Tommy reclining with his ankles crossed, palming himself over his jeans. He holds your gaze and begins to undo that big belt buckle, and you get a rush of arousal.

With you seated on the bed and Joel looms over you. The curves of his hulking muscles stretch his sweater. Your eyes fall to his jeans, and you can see the outline of his massive erection. You reach for the button and he murmurs, “yeah, there ya go,�� and affectionately cradles your head while you unbutton and unzip him. Then he takes his sweater off over his head and his under-tee rides up exposing his happy trail. “Let’s get that sweater off, Tommy.”

You turn around and see Tommy is on all fours with his cardigan already off. He’s prowling across the bed, to the foot of it where you sit. Tommy sits up on his knees behind you, and wraps his arms around. He lifts at the bottom hem of your sweater and brings his mouth to your ear to murmur, “Yeah, let’s get comfortable.” You raise your arms and he takes off the sweater for you then cups your breasts. You pull off your bra from under your tank top while Joel takes off his jeans.

“Shit, let’s take it all off,” Tommys says with his voice briefly muffled by his wifebeater as he pulls it over his head. “Nothin’ like three bare bodies all twisted up.” His giant belt clinks as he unbuckles it behind you. Joel steps out of his jeans, leaving the tent in his boxers on full display, making you gush. He bends down to help take your tank top off, then he kisses you as he unfastens your pants. Joel kisses down your body as he removes your pants and underwear.

“Come on up here,” Tommy mutters and wraps an arm around you. He pulls you up toward the pillows, then stacks them behind himself and pulls you between his legs where you can feel he is fully nude and hard. His skin is hot and smooth. You're both facing Joel.

You sit between Tommy’s moderately hairy legs, and his broad palms cup your naked breasts. “How ya doin’, darlin’?” he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches against your lower back. “Ready for my brother?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

“He’s ready too.”

Joel is kneeling onto the bed with his commanding cock in hand. He pauses to squeeze himself, eyes roving over you like you’ve never looked hotter. “Look like an angel, baby. Can’t wait to be in ya.” Tommy lightly grinds himself against your lower back, then his hands come to your thighs, and you spread them open for Joel.

“Always so good,” Joel mumbles, then kisses you deeply and you feel his cock run through your dripping seam. You’re wet, so wet for him. He’s still kissing you, letting your lips separate every second or so. His face pulls back and Tommy slightly adjusts you between his legs. Tommy’s cock is stiff against your back. Joel’s tip nudges your entrance, then he pushes himself into you. Tommy’s hands are still on your breasts. Joel leans over you, bracing his hands on the bed to either side of Tommy’s thighs. It still makes you swoon how his big cock stuffs you full. As Joel thrusts into you, Tommy ruts against you, moaning softly. The force of Joel’s thrusts makes you rub against Tommy’s stiff manhood and he groans.

“Feel so good, baby,” Joel breathes.

“Take’ him so well,” Tommy whispers.

Your breath hitches and you moan into Joel’s mouth with his cock dragging thickly deep inside you. Tommy massages your breasts and grinds into you while Joel kisses you and fucks you good. It feels better and better every minute. Joel dips his hips and grinds against your front as he stuffs you with his cock. You feel the tension building in your belly, and your clit twitches.

You tear your mouth away from Joel’s and whine, “Joel.”

“Oh, baby, gonna cum already?”

You whimper and nod.

“It’s okay, baby. Go ‘head,” Tommy whispers.

“Yeah, let it happen, baby,” Joel agrees.

Then Joel, with his cock still seated inside you, rolls his hips to put more pressure on your front, and Tommy grinds against your lower back, and you clench down on Joel’s cock with a moan.

“Oh, Fuck,” Joel whispers and he begins to pulse at the exact same time you feel Tommy erupt against you. The three of you come in a cacophony of grunts and moans and Tommy’s sliding wetly against your crack as his cum trickles down.

Joel stays inside as he catches his breath, then slides out of you, and some of his cum drips down between Tommy’s legs.

“Think ya might be the one I been lookin' for,” Joel mumbles. He gives you a slow kiss.

You get cleaned up, then you sleep like three spoons stacked together with Joel in front.

===

Thank you for reading!

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

#pedrostoriesgift23 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #biker!joel #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller x afab!reader #tommy miller x afab!reader #the bikeriders #the bikeriders x reader #bikeriders cal #the bikeriders cal

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lazycats-stuff · 25 days

Text

Batfamily x male reader

Batfamily x male!reader - this is part 1 everyone.

Summary: some talking is done.

Warnings: angst, fluff, (Y/N) is trying and so is the fam, cursing, trying to forgive, a punch was thrown, cutting people out

The fight echoed through the manor. Even days after it, the tension was still palpable. (Y/N) truly wanted nothing more with his so called brothers and father. If they tried to talk to him, they would be ignored or (Y/N) would just snap at them.

Almost biting their head off.

Safe to say, things were going to complete and utter shit.

Bruce didn't even know how to start talking to (Y/N). Was he emotionally reserved? Yes. But will he try everything in his power to make it right?

Yes. Everything he can do, he will do.

Bruce has decided to call a meeting. He made (Y/N) leave his room and (Y/N) has never looked worse. He couldn't sleep for days on end, only getting about 4 hours per night. He wasn't in the mood to eat either. He was only alive because Alfred had to make sure he was still alive.

Everyone noted that he looked like he didn't want to live anymore. More so, he looked dead. (Y/N) just sat down, an angry look on his face, arms crossed and body language closed off. He sat down as far as away as he could from them, clearly not happy to be here in the slightest.

He tucked himself in the chair, ignoring everyone and everything.

" (Y/N)... " Bruce started quietly, clearly not wanting to have a blow out and an explosion. " We have to talk through this problem. " Bruce continued just as softly and (Y/N) scoffed.

" We know we have been... Neglecting you, to say the least. But... We want to fix our mistakes. We want to be better. " Bruce said and (Y/N) chose to roll his eyes instead of listening. No matter what they could say could ever fix this.

" Well... 10 years too late. " (Y/N) said sarcastically, tapping his fingers against his tucked up knee, clearly anxious to leave this room behind. He really was anxious too leave.

" And we realize that. " Tim started softly, looking at (Y/N) with a sad look on his face. (Y/N) wouldn't allow them to see them sweat.

" Bullshit. " (Y/N) said quickly. They don't realize shit. " You are only doing this because Jon came over and pointed it out and now you are worried that the word doesn't spread. " (Y/N) spat out, leaning on his tucked up knee, glaring that the floor.

" That is not true. " Damian said and (Y/N) looked up, glaring at Damian, scoffing at the words, then laughing bitterly.

" Oh please. You never told Jon about me! I'm assuming all of your friends don't know I exist, right? " (Y/N) said as he rubbed his eyes from the exhaustion.

The silence was the only answer that (Y/N) needed.

" Yup and there it is. No one knows I fucking exist! " (Y/N) said loudly, blood pressure raising. He took a deep breath to calm down. " Just as I thought. No one knows I exist. No one even cared about my school achievements either... Let me ask you something Bruce. " (Y/N) asked, turning his attention to Bruce.

" Do you have a college fund for me? Just like you do for other four? " (Y/N) asked, itching for an answer. When Bruce looked away in shame and (Y/N) scoffed yet again.

" Also, don't you fucking dare setting it up. I have got a scholarship anyway. " (Y/N) answered the unasked questions. Bruce was proud of (Y/N). How could he have done this to (Y/N), forget to put a college fund...

" I'm sorry (Y/N). I didn't mean to forget you. " Bruce said, keeping his distance, but wanting nothing more than just hug him and kiss the anger away.

But alas, that's not how it works. (Y/N) has to forgive him first.

" Can you tell us more about the scholarship? " Jason chimed in, wanting to speak about something that (Y/N) could be happy about.

" It's for MIT. " (Y/N) said quietly and everyone was in shock. They didn't know that (Y/N) was into science and mathematics and what not.

Another mistake of theirs.

" That's amazing (Y/N). " Tim praised, smiling at (Y/N). Getting into MIT is hard as hell.

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, but deep down inside, he craved that praise more than life. But some praise won't erase everything that happened.

" You would really have to move then... " Dick said sadly and (Y/N) glanced at all of them. They all seem sad that he would have to move all the way to Massachusetts, but it would be necessary. (Y/N) needed to get out of here. One way or another.

" I think what we all mean to say is that we are sorry. There is no excuse, not a single thing that could justify what we did and what we have caused to you. " Damian said and (Y/N) was shocked to hear the word sorry just tumble out of his mouth like that, so effortlessly. So easily. But he composed himself quickly.

" How do I put his nicely? " (Y/N) said, looking sarcastic. " I don't give a damn about any of you. I don't give a damn about apologies at all. I don't care about any of you. The moment I move out, all of you are going to be dead to me. Period. " (Y/N) said as he quickly stood up, going to his room.

He isn't going to fucking listen anymore.

" No, (Y/N) wait! " Everyone called after him and tried to stop him. Jason managed to grab his arm, but (Y/N) threw a punch and knocked Jason down on his ass, making the others rear back. It was a truly what the fuck moment for all of them.

(Y/N) was never violent.

(Y/N) slammed the doors of his room shut and everyone was silent. Jason was breathing heavily through his mouth as (Y/N) broke his nose.

" He has a hell of a punch. " Jason muttered as he stood up.

" We have a shit ton of gravelling to do. " Tim muttered and everyone nodded in agreement. Saying that they are dead to him, well, will be dead to him, that was sort of a nail in a coffin. Coffin about their relationship...

That was probably on the brink of death, if not dead already.

" Come on, he needs some time alone. " Bruce said and ushered everyone out of the hall, mostly Jason to take a look at his nose, to treat it and heal it.

That same night, (Y/N) quietly managed to get his things into a car, while others were on patrol and blocked them in the process. Then he started driving to MIT, because he didn't have the nerve to put his things onto a plane and go. And besides, he didn't have enough things anyway.

(Y/N) could finally start his new life.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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ellana-ravenwood · 1 year

Text

From parents to babies - Batfam x fem!reader

Synopsis : You and Bruce got turned into toddlers !! Shenanigans ensue, of course.

This is part of a little “series” I guess, here’s the first part with Jason : Jason Todd(ler). I’m planning on writing a lil story for all the kids hehe, but I thought : “hey, what about Batmom and Bruce ?” and here we are. Hope you’ll like this !

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_________________________________________________

“Bruce !”

“(Y/N) !”

You manage to scream each other’s names before-

Before a white flash engulfed the both of you, and you suddenly disappeared, only a pool of your clothes remaining where you once stood.

“Nooooo !!” is the last thing you hear before your mind goes blank, and you recognize the voice as being your youngest son’s, Damian. The sound of his scream greatly distresses you, but alas, you cannot do anything to help as you feel yourself slowly fading away and-

Footsteps. Running fast to reach the place you stood on merely seconds before. But you’re not there anymore, you’re not there !

“It’s not possible !”

That’s Jason. His voice breaking at the end of his sentence, as he approaches the bunch of clothes left on the floor, a lump in his throat as the inevitable is starting to be clearer and clearer, and he cannot refuse reality anymore.

Vaporized. His parents just got vaporized by that wannabe-magician’s laser !

In the mess of it all, that asshole even escaped ! Which was a good thing, in a way, because Jason promised you and Bruce he would never kill again, but he wasn’t sure he could hold that promise if he was faced with the man who took away his beloved parents.

You all only just made peace with each other, only just became a family again ! How was he suppose to go on losing you once more ?

Dick was the first to reach the spot in which you were. He had always been the fastest of them all. His heart beats too fast in his chest, and he has this horrible thought that it’s the second time he sees his parents being killed right in front of him when-

Movements. Small movements. There, amongst his father’s suit. And there, amongst his mother’s clothes. And then-

Little hands. Fighting to find an exit in this labyrinth of fabrics. Little grunts of frustration, like when a child is trying to do something but doesn’t quite manage to do it. Finally finding an out. And-

“Oh shit.”

Dick says, as he stares at- Two kids ??

One, a little boy. who couldn’t be more than two years old, black hair, bright blue eyes. The second one, (E/C) eyes and (H/C) hair and-

“Oh shit.”

Tim says, as he’s the second one to reach the place and he immediately understands that his parents aren’t dead, but rather...

They’ve been turned into toddlers !

“Oh shit !” You exclaim happily, giggling.

“Oh shit !” Baby Bruce repeats, and you both look at each other and giggle even more. Damn it. They’ve been in the care of children for only a second, and they already taught you bad words !

Bruce reaches for you, and there’s no doubt now that those two kids are indeed you and your husband ! Because immediately, you move closer to each other, your clothe much too big for you now being like blankets on you.

Dick picks the both of you up, wrapping you in the cloths, and turns around to greet his siblings.

Slowly, all your children reach you and-

“Oh shit !” You and Bruce say in unison, proud to show everyone (whomever those people were) that new word you just learned.

And “oh shit” indeed, is on all of your kids’ mind.

************

Of course, it had to happen when Alfred was away on his one vacation a year...Of freaking course.

It wouldn’t be funny otherwise, right ?

Only Alfred, could find a solution to this problem ! Your kids were totally lost !

Evidently, neither you nor Bruce remembered who you really were. You were clearly just two two years old.

And it seemed you didn’t mind being picked up by people you didn’t know, as long as you could stay together (you two downright SCREAMED so loudly, when Jason tried to take you from Dick’s arms so his brother wouldn’t have to hold the both of you).

It was as if that, at least, remained. Your bond.

As if you were just- Instant friends, or something.

They got you home, and :

“Ok, any of you ever took care of babies ?”

“Me not baby !” You say, glaring at your oldest son. It’s true, you knew you were two (somehow), you were no baby anymore !

“I’m sorry mom, I just- Oh gods this is so weird.”

And it truly was, weird, to see their parents, the two people they knew they could always count on if they had a problem, being literal children.

They couldn’t call them for help, you guys barely knew how to properly walk ! And had a very small vocabulary, too...Dick shook his head. This wasn’t a time to diss babies, this really wasn’t the time !

“Ok, first things first, we need to find them clothes. Duke, Jason, go the a shop and get them some stuffs to wear. While Cass and I will go buy some food for them. Damian and Dick, stay here and take care of them.” Aaaah Tim, ever so pragmatic. In a matter of seconds, he had gotten over the shock of the situation, and was taking matter in his own hands.

And it was good. It was a start. They had no idea what they were going to do after, except the fact they had to find a way to get you back to normal. But at least, they had the beginning of a plan.

They knew they could all count on Tim for plans. From A to Z, he would find a way. He had no idea how to take care of babies, of course, but his mind could find solutions to every problems.

Yes. Yes. They only had to start moving. And things would be alright. They could do this.

They could do this.

They had to do this, for both your sake.

************

Officially, Bruce and (Y/N) Wayne went away on a surprise vacation. Your disappearance had to be explained.

None of your kids called Alfred, the butler deserved his annually vacation after all, and they knew he would come right home if he heard. So they let him be, and started to take care of their “baby parents”.

Brucie ish scared

Before being the way Gotham’s media, models and such, called him when he still had his playboy persona, and not his “family man” one that he now had, “Brucie” was the nickname his mom gave him.

Never in public, of course, but when they were home. When she was telling him bed time stories or singing lullabies to him. When she woke him up, gently, in the mornings. When she told him to come home for dinner, as he was playing in the garden.

“Brucie”, was a name Bruce always associated with his mother’s affection and love. Which is why he hated how the media, and certain people, self-appropriated that name, and associated it with that persona who wasn’t even himself.

It’s not like he could do anything about it, though. He had a role to play.

And so, “Brucie” became that “other him”, while initially, it was his true self...

It had been years, since anyone had called him that. He wasn't a playboy, anymore, and your little nickname for him (aside from “my heart” and other term of endearment) was “my Broosh”.

And so finally, this name came full circle.

Brucie.

That’s how he called himself. Toddlers had that tendency to talk about themselves in the third person, sometimes. And Bruce, was referring to himself as “Brucie”, not “Bruce”.

Your children were a hundred percent sure it was because even if he didn’t seem to ask for his parents, a part of him remembered them, and how his mom called him.

Even turned into a toddler who didn’t remember much of his own life, Bruce still had his parents in mind.

And so he called himself Brucie.

And Brucie was a scaredy cat !

The irony of which didn’t escape any of your kids.

What, the “fearless Batman” was afraid of literally everything ? That was funny. Dick made sure to take PLENTY of videos (just if he needed leverage for something one day).

Brucie got scared of the vacuum cleaner. Brucie got scared of the dark. Brucie got scared of any noise that was too loud. Brucie got scared whenever (Y/N) wasn’t around. Brucie-

“Brucie ish scared !” He’d whimper, and run towards the closest “adult” he could find (any of your children, though over half of them were far from being official adults), seeking comfort.

Every time, and it was the most adorable thing to witness, you’d rush to him, and hold him saying : “No scared Brooshie, no scared, me here. Me here.”

First, “Brooshie” = so darn cute, a toddler adaptation of the traditional “Broosh”. Second, the way you’d shield him in your little arms, and how he’d hide his face and close his eyes, how he’d hold onto you and calm down as you told him to not be scared, it had to be peak adorableness.

And in a way, toddlers you were a good reflection of adults you.

Bruce was no longer scared, in the strictest sense of the term. He had shunned all his emotions, locked them away deep in his heart, for years. Ignored his pain, and the remnant of his fears.

And then you came in, and forced open his heart, shattering all the walls he build for years, and making it impossible for him to live without you (and vice versa).

Just as Baby Bruce found comfort and safety in your arms, just as he was soothed by your voice, Adult Bruce knew he could always be safe and warm in your embrace.

Nobody, when witnessing such scenes, could even dare say you weren’t made for each other.

DICK

It was so weird.

Dick just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you two were turned into kids. Like, what ?

His...parents were now younger than him. How weird was that ??

Of course, he knew he should be used to weird things by now. After all, over the years, from when he first became Robin to now, he had seen his fair share of strange stuffs. But this-

This was really, really odd.

“Ick !” was the name you and Bruce decided to give him. No matter how many times he made you repeat it, you could never truly manage to say his name properly. And so, he was now “Ick”.

And “Ick” had no clue how to take care of children.

Was this how Bruce felt, when he officially adopted him ? Was this how you felt, when you became his mom while being so young ?

Of course, Dick was older when he first arrived. But he was also a lot more traumatized. And he knew he could be difficult, at times. He could be so damn angry, back then.

While you and Bruce ? You were adorable kids. You’d listen to him, and never talk back. What, you were supposed to be in your “terrible twos” era, yet it seemed like you were just good kids.

Of course, the fact that your eldest son let you do absolutely everything you wanted might’ve been a reason as to why you two were so “nice” with him, and didn’t throw any tantrum.

No tantrum needed, when the person taking care of you would let you do whatever you wanted.

You didn’t wanna wear pants ? No problems. You didn’t want to eat your vegetables, but wanted sweets instead ? All good. You didn’t want to take a nap ? Then he could play with you a little longer.

Yes. It became quite apparent that Dick could not resist you, at all.

Which wasn’t much of a surprise, really. Because he was the same way with his siblings. They could make him do whatever they wanted to (outside of work, of course. When they were vigilantes, it was an entire other story, but it was because he often had to take the “leader” job, and a mistake could cost a life).

And so, even though he found it extremely weird, and couldn’t quite call you “mom” and “dad” anymore (and who would blame him ?), he didn’t hate taking care of you.

He sort of saw it as “payback”, for all the years you put up with his moods. For all the time you didn’t give up on him, and all the moments you were there to catch him when he fell.

The reason he found it so hard to accept and fathom the situation, was because you and Bruce had become such “safety nets”, for him.

You were his parents. He couldn’t think of a life without you. Without your guidance. Without your soothing words. Without your scolding, when he needed one. Without-

He couldn’t accept this turn of event, because he needed you. He had pushed you enough, in his teenage years and early adulthood. Now, he realized he absolutely needed his parents.

He had to find a solution, and fast. Because although he didn’t mind taking care of you as you were nice kids, he just wanted his parents back.

JASON

Jason was the most responsible one.

Which, when people knew your children, wasn’t that surprising.

He’d always been a responsible kid, despite what anyone could think.

He was a really good big brother, always looking out for his little siblings, and being there to be their voice of reason (Dick being his...he had a "decent teacher”).

And so he became the “mom” of the house (it’s a nickname Tim, Duke and Damian gave him, when he wasn’t there).

He had always loved cooking, ever since he was a kid. So he took it upon himself to cook healthy meals for both you and Bruce, and would scold Dick whenever he’d caught his brother red handed giving you candies and other ice cream right before dinner !

Bruce hated carrots, and you despised spinach. Other than that, it seemed you were willing to try everything he made for you two.

Jason spend hours on the internet searching for recipes fit for two years old, for things you should feed kids this young. And he came up with quite a diet for the both of you.

The food he made was delicious (and more than once, he caught one of his sibling eating from your spoon instead of feeding you !).

Jason would be the one to remind everyone of yours and Bruce’s bed time. After all, “bed time” in the Wayne household had always been a little;..different, to say the least. But with toddlers ? It couldn’t be. It had to be regular, or they’d be too tired.

Jason made a carefully planned sleep schedule for his “parents”. And when he wasn’t the one babysitting at night (they all took shifts so they could still do their vigilante jobs), he would call his sibling when it was bed time to make sure they’d respect it. He would genuinely harass Dick, because he knew his older brother was “weak” and could never refuse puppy eyes (after all, he abused of that technique to get him to do whatever he wanted, when he was younger), and he had to be reminded that a regular bed time was important !

How odd it was, for thugs, being downright beaten down by the scary Red Hood, while the latter would talk in his income and say things like : “I can’t believe you gave them ice cream before sleepy time again !” and others : “They’re babies, they need at least ten hours of sleep !”

Jason didn’t let any tantrum through. Where Dick would just let you and Bruce do whatever you wanted, Jason had clear limits.

Because that is how you raised him. Sure, Bruce could be a little too strict sometimes, especially with Dick. But he had grown as a father, and slowly learned the difference between being too rigid and allowing his kids to be kids.

Jason often joked that Dick was the “trial and error” era, but he wasn’t too far off. With Dick, you and Bruce made plenty of mistakes. You did with your other kids too, of course, but with your eldest most of all. Because he was your first child, and you had no idea what you were doing at the time.

But, yes. Jason knew the importance of limits, for children. Kids needed boundaries, so they could feel safe. He knew, because it totally worked on him.

And so, you’d have a tantrum ? Too bad, you’d just have to calm down and ask again nicely. Jason was intransigeant.

He was, though, the first one there if you or Bruce woke up crying during the night. And he’d take you in his arms (always the both of you at the same time), and sing to you. Or tell you stories. Up until you’d fall asleep again.

Jason, although he had strict schedules and food diet, was such a gentle soul. Such a gentle carer. You knew that one day, he would make a great dad. And if that experience taught any of you anything, it was that yes, yes.

Jason told would one day make a wonderful father.

TIM

"I think he doesn’t like me...”

Tim said, deflated and defeated, as, once again, his dad (in baby form) cowered away from him as he approached.

You ? You enjoyed being taken care of by Tim. You liked him very much. But for some reasons, “Brucie” seemed scared of him.

“Don’t say that. I think he’s just- shy.”

“Conner, honey, I appreciate you trying to comfort me, but if he was truly shy, he wouldn’t just- Oh come on !”

Of course, Bruce chose that exact moment to jump in Conner’s arms, and to hide his face in his chest so he wouldn’t see Tim anymore. Superboy chuckled uncomfortably, trying to act as if it wasn’t because Bruce was scared or anything, but Tim couldn’t be fooled.

Tim could never be fooled.

And so he sighed, and held you a little closer. At least, his mom always loved him, no matter what age she was.

You seemed to understand that Bruce’s actions made Tim sad, and even as a toddler, it greatly distressed you to see one of your “kids” sad. So you wiggled to signify to Tim that you want him to put you back down and-

“Oh, not you too, mom ?”

You walk towards Conner, and Tim looks even sadder, as now, both of his “parents” seem to like others better than him...Even if they were just kids, and that Tim knew they weren’t doing it on purpose, his feelings were still hurt.

But then-

You shake Conner’s pants, signifying for him to crouch down to your level. Baby Bruce is in his arms, and beams as he sees you.

“’Own, ‘own !” He says, meaning “down”, and Conner puts him next to you.

Immediately, Bruce takes your hand, and smiles widely. Which comforts Tim a little. At least, even as toddlers, it seemed you two were inseparable.

But then, you drag him towards Tim, and it’s obvious Bruce only follows because he seems very attached to you. The little boy does not want to be there, in front of Timothy Wayne-Drake.

And Tim looks down, sadly. He ruffles your hair affectionately, and says :

“Good try mom, good try. But I don't think he likes me, at all.”

You look at Tim, and then turns around towards Bruce, who was currently hiding behind you (how cute it was, that you always seemed to protect him when he was scared). But this time, you’d have none of it.

Very much alike when you were adults, and you took none of your husband’s shit. You’d always set him back on track. Always.

And so, toddler you said :

“Bwooshie, Tim nice ! Tim good ! Tim fwiend !”

You let go of Bruce’s hand, and the boy whimpers and tries to catch your hand again, but takes a few steps back because he doesn’t want to get too close from Tim. But then-

Then you hop in Tim’s arms, and you snuggle against him. You smile at Bruce, and nods at him saying again : “Tim fwiend ! Tim nice !” and your son cannot help himself and hold you tight.

Even turned into a toddler, he could count on his mama to cheer him up, it seemed...

Slowly, unsure, Bruce approached Tim. The boy was still obviously wary, but those were first steps.

After a while, Bruce finally came towards Tim, and laid his hands on your son’s knees.

He looked deeply into Tim’s eyes, and must’ve finally decided that he wasn’t so scary, because then, he climbed into his laps and everything was resolved.

And oh, oh how much this meant to Tim...

DAMIAN

“Father, you need to give her some air. I swear, even as children you two are impossible !”

“AAAAAAAAAAH !” is Bruce’s response, as Damian tries to take him away from you. Apparently, young Bruce seemed to think screaming was an appropriate response to show his unwillingness to do something.

And it frustrated Damian greatly.

You had fallen asleep on the floor. Laid on your back, you were in a deep slumber, a pacifier in your mouth, your breathing regular. And Bruce was sitting next to you, your head was in his lap, and he was watching TV as one of his hand was on your head, the other one on your cheek.

He too, had a pacifier in his mouth, and although he was focused on the TV show he was watching, it seemed like he had absolutely no intention on letting you go.

When Damian entered the room, he found the both of you like that, and decided it would be better if you slept in your bed. So he went to pick you up, gently taking his father’s hands off of you and-

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH !” The pacifier falls from his mouth, as he tightens his grip on you, and glares at a bewildered Damian.

You’re so deep asleep that you don’t budge, and then Bruce, after glaring some more at Damian, turns back to watch the TV.

But Damian will have none of it. “Be firm, sometimes.” Jason told him, and he was going to take his big brother advice to heart ! And so he made Bruce let go, and took you into his arms.

After a pause, as Baby Bruce was too shocked to react, his mouth slowly turned down into a frown and-

The little boy bursted into tears. Big, real tears. Ugly sobs with lots of snots running down his nose.

And it made Damian panic.

He hated that. He hated those cries. It reminded him of so many bad memories. He couldn’t handle it, he couldn’t bear it.

Even less so knowing this was his dad !

And so he quickly went to the floor, and took little Bruce in his arms, soothing him expertly as he was still holding you in his other arms.

His shirt was wet from Bruce holding onto it and burying his face into it. But eventually, the boy’s sobs died down, and-

Asleep.

Bruce was fast asleep, too. And his little face looked so at ease.

There. In Damian’s arms, a hand holding one of your hand.

It reminded him of his father as an adult, in fact. How sometimes, he would surprise you and him as you fell asleep on the couch in each other’s arms. And how his father’s face would look the most relaxed and pleased, when you were holding him...

Damian tightened his grip on both of you. He was ready to protect you even if it meant he would have to sacrifice himself !

And oh- Oh he felt something growing inside him. Something important.

Eventually, you and Bruce would be back to normal. He knew it, he knew his siblings would figure something out. Yes. You’d become his parents again.

But he-

He somehow wanted a baby, in this house.

CASS

You both clearly adored Cass.

You would walk towards her, and demand for her to pick you up. And then, when she would inevitably do it, you’d both snuggle against her and quickly fall asleep, absolutely content.

Damian mentioned that he read somewhere that children felt people’s calmness. And so he conjectured that you liked falling asleep on her, because you felt calmed and secure.

Which was the truth.

It made Cass’ heart melt. She, for obvious reasons, never held children before. And she definitely never thought that the first kids she would hold would be her own parents...

Physical touch had always soothed Cass.

Before she met you and Bruce, she was never allowed to be touch, and to touch other. She’d never receive a hug, or a soothing kiss.

Never.

So when you adopted her, she swore she’d take every opportunity to snuggle against you. Against her parents. Oh, and her brothers. None of them could resist a hug from her, not even Jason or Damian.

If Cass wanted a hug, she would have it.

So, she felt so fulfilled, when baby you and baby Bruce came to seek hugs from her. As if everything went full circle.

You and your husband gave her the comfort of parental love. Gave her the safety of your arms, and taught her how important it was to have people you loved close.

And here she was, soothing little versions of you, making you stop crying just by holding you.

Yes. It was a full, nice, comforting and warm circle.

And Cass felt so happy, when you hugged her. Whether you were kids or adults.

DUKE

Duke had tons of little cousins.

Cousins he still saw now, of course. None of his uncles and aunts could take him in, for different reasons (the main one being that none of them lived in Gotham anymore, what happened to Duke’s parents being the last straw...And Duke did not want to leave the city just yet). But he still stayed in contact with them.

Before they all moved, Duke, who was the oldest of the kids in his family, used to babysit his cousins all the time. So, he had experience with children.

And it showed.

With you and Bruce, he was nice, yet strict. He (and Jason) was the only one who didn’t let you do whatever you wanted, and who would plainly ignore any of your tantrums.

He was the only one able to detach himself from the fact you were his parents, and viewed you as normal children he had to take care of.

This is probably what saved him. What made him be able to live with that situation. Just like Dick, he really wanted you back to normal. But his defense mechanism was to pretend you weren’t you, but random kids he had in his care.

It was a lot, for a seventeen years old, but Duke was strong.

You’d always known he was strong, from the moment he became your ward, to now, as he was officially adopted and called you “mom”.

For his own sanity, Duke viewed this as a “baby sitter” job, and so, on purpose, didn’t get attached to baby you and baby Bruce too much. He didn't want to, because he didn’t want you to stay like that.

He wanted his parents back too, he needed you still, he was too young to lose parents a second time !

And so Duke shut his feelings away, and took care of you as if you weren’t really you. He gave you lots of care and love, as a child needed, but-

But he pretended you, as his parents, were away for a while. And constantly thought of a plan to get you back to your normal self.

They never sleep alone

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!” Baby Bruce screamed, as loud as he could, holding onto your hands for dear life.

“Me not want, me not want !” You say, kicking Dick with your little legs and holding Brucie’s hands too.

Your kids quickly realized that they COULD NOT separate you for bed time.

They had bought two children’s bed, but in the end, only one was used. You’d fall asleep all snuggled to each others, pacifier in your mouth.

“It’s- Kind of like when they’re grown up.” Damian says, and they all nod.

Yes. Yes it’s true that you two found it really hard to find sleep, when the other one was absent. True insomnia would hit you, in the event that one of you couldn’t be here for the night.

What transpired in your toddler form, how you’d scream if separated, also existed with the adult versions of you.

And it comforted your children, in a way.

They knew that their parents were still in there, somewhere.

ACE

“Doggy !” Little Bruce beamed happily, as he ran as fast as he could towards..Well, his dog, actually.

Ace was taken aback, at first, as he recognized his master’s smell, but couldn’t figure out why he was so...small.

Bruce ran to him, and literally fell on the dog hugging him tightly.

“Doggy !” The little boy said, and your children felt their heart melt.

None of them ever thought they’d ever call their dad “cute”, despite you trying to convince them that he really could be cute (some would say you were biased).

But here, in that moment, as their dad seemed so damn happy just because of his dog, no other words came to their minds.

Cute.

Unruly little buggers !!

You two, together, could be...

“Tornadoes !! They’re goddamn tornadoes !!” Jason screams, as he was running after you.

You were wearing only your diaper, managing to escape the grasp of your son by taking sharp turns there and there, and knocking down every single things on your way.

On the other side of the living room, Tim and Damian were trying to catch Bruce, as he was doing the exact same things.

Ten seconds.

They left the both of you alone for less than ten seconds !!

And when they came back, you and Bruce apparently had decided that it was fun to break extremely valuable objects, including vase, and a large array of ornaments.

You were giggling like a little devil, as you slowly devastated the living room.

“Alfred is going to kill us !” Duke says, holding his head in his hands, standing there watching the disaster unfold in front of him. What else could he do, really, when some of Gotham’s mightiest heroes couldn’t even get a hold of you ??

Finally, Jason catches you, just as Tim lunges forward and grasp his dad as well. The two of you wiggle like snakes as you try to get away, but you do not cry.

No, on the contrary, you both laugh way too loudly, probably thinking that “destroying the house” was a great game.

And your kids could swear that your laughs were genuine “evil laughs”.

Later, on the security camera, they’d know what happened.

At first, you were both sitting on the floor, playing with toys, waiting patiently. But then, Bruce got on his feet, and walked that wobbly unsure walk all children have at first towards the coffee table.

Something had caught his attention. It was a small crystal vase, that Alfred had put there years ago, for decoration. It went splendidly with the carpet, and matched the room perfectly.

And it was shiny, and Bruce wanted it.

He tried to climb on the coffee table, wiggling his little butt to give himself some momentum and get on it...but he couldn’t do it. That’s when you came into action, and pushed him so he would get on.

He turned around, and giggled, as if to thank you, and then-

Then he brought you the vase.

It was quite adorable, really. He wanted it, because it was shiny and looked cool. But then he decided to give it to you, instead.

He let himself fall on the floor from the coffee table once he gave you the vase, and you both stared at it for a second. Before, for some reason, you took it and threw it hard on the wall !

Seriously, sometimes, kids were absolutely impossible to understand. What made you want to suddenly throw that vase like that ? Nobody would ever know. But what was known, is that it seemed like both you and Bruce liked that, because you looked at each others, as if conniving, and pushed yourself off of the floor, standing up.

And then, as your children entered the room with some food, you proceeded to start destroying everything you could get your hands on, up until they finally managed to get a hold on you.

And your downright EVIL laughter filled the room.

Your kids were DEFINITELY going to get that security camera footage out one day again, if you ever decided to punish them or scold them about something.

Back to normal

Zatanna, as usual, to the rescue.

When your kids were finally able to reach her. She arrived barely minutes after they exposed the problems to her. She had been in another dimension, and therefor couldn’t be reached for a while.

From her understanding, it’s been almost a month since you turned into toddlers. And finally, she was there (which was good, because Alfred’s one month vacation a year was coming to an end, and your kids really wanted to pretend nothing ever happened).

Ah but she was accompanied by an unwanted visitor...

“What are you doing here, Constantine ?” Damian asks, holding you in one arm, and his father in the other. Protectively.

“What, I learn that the big bad bat got turned into a kid and you think I could miss that ? No bloody way haha. Curiosity got the best of me !”

“I’m sorry guys, I didn’t mean to tell him but he was there when you called...”

“It’s all good aunt Z, it’s all good. To be fair, I was hoping someone else would see this too, so we can NEVER let them forget they had to wear diapers again haha.”

“Grayson !” your youngest son exclaimed. It’s been a while, since Damian called Dick “Grayson”, but he was absolutely shocked about this “betrayal” !

“Ok, ok. Let’s make sure dad never forget he had to wear diaper again !”

Damian thought about it for a while, and then said : “And you’ll leave mom alone ?”

“Yes, promised.” Dick says, and Constantine nods too (he wasn’t about to mock you anyway, he was too scared of you).

“Alright, then it’s acceptable.”

And on that note, Zatanna started a ritual.

************

“What the hell happened ??” Are Bruce’s first words. And then, he sees you, and takes you into his arms, holding you with almost too strongly.

“I thought I had lost you...” He whispers, and you hold him back just as strongly, because you had the same thought. The last thing you remembered, after all, was that laser coming towards the two of you and then-

And then what ?

After letting you hug each other, your children finally tell you what went on.

And oh. Oh you were so damn proud of them, they did so good !

I want a baby sibling

A few weeks went by.

A few weeks, during which both Dick and John Constantine flooded the group chat all the supers had together with baby pictures of the Batman (oddly enough, they didn’t divulge any picture of you...probably because you scared them a little), and embarrassing videos. It was an endless source of jokes, and teasing from everyone.

But you didn’t worry too much though, you knew your husband would have his revenge (in fact, you were more worried for your son and for Constantine than anything else).

In any case, that episode would be soon behind you, save for a few mockeries there and there. At least, that’s what you thought.

One morning, Damian just casually entered your bedroom and stood before your bed, staring at the two of you, as you were slowly leaving the dream world.

You thought it was an emergency, at first, as none of your children would ever dare to just walk in your bedroom like that (lest they witness something that could scar them for life). But Damian calculated the risks.

It was much too early, for either of you to be awake. So it was safe. And so he came in, without knocking, and planted his feet resolutely in the floor, his hands on his waist, staring the both of you down.

“What is it, buddy ?” You ask, half-asleep. Bruce, his hair a mess, sat up, dazed.

“I came to an important decision. One taken in the light of recent events.”

Confused, neither you nor your husband say anything. Waiting for what your son is going to say next. Slowly, he turns around, and starts to walk left, then right, then left...Pacing in front of your bed, his eyes never leaving you two.

Finally, he stops, and solemnly says :

“I want a baby sibling. Sister or brother I do not care, I just want a little one to take care of, and to be a big brother. I think, I am done being the youngest.”

Bruce stares dumbly at his son, his face blank and expressionless, sure now that he must still be dreaming. And you’re not doing any better. You blink fast a few time, and repeat :

“A baby sibling ?”

Damian doesn’t miss a beat as he says :

“That’s right. Like I said, a little brother or sister, it does not matter to me, as long as it’s mine. My little brother or sister, I mean. Of course, they’ll be their own person, and we won’t own them per se. We’ll just take care of them.”

Silence.

A long silence.

Finally broken by your son :

“Well. I’ll leave you to it then. I expect you will take my request seriously. We will talk about it again another day. Thank you for listening to me, and see you at breakfast.”

And on that note, your son leaves just as casually, as you look at him, astonished.

You turn to your husband and-

You know what he’s thinking. You and Bruce never talked about having biological children, because the kids you already have were always enough for your happiness. You didn’t need more, you already loved them so much.

But you both always told yourselves that if it were to happen...

Of course, you would accept it. You would raise that child with joy, too. It would be quite a bonus, to an already happy life.

And so as your son leaves, and you look at each others you think-

A baby in the house, wouldn’t be so bad.

__________________________________________________

Well, here we are ! I hope you liked this ! As per usual, comments/reblogs are more than welcomed, and always a great motivation to post more :). Don’t hesitate to tell me what you thought of this ! It always makes the time spend on a story worth it, when I hear from y’all :) <3. Thanks in advance, and thanks for reading this, too ! See you soon with another story !

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placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 11 months

Text

How 'bout I stay here and you fight?

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Let me start off by saying I'm sooo sorry for the time it took me to update this, I know that it's been quite a gap since the last upload. Hopefully the wait was worth it though, because I have written about 30 pages for you here, so there's lots to sink your teeth into! As always, thanks for all your support and interaction and all the questions you have about the series, having everyone's lovely messages and art means a lot 💕 knowing I have this community to come back to while I stress out about life stuff is amazing, so thanks for being there! Enjoy the next update ☺️

Part 8 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

“Ghost before you-”

“Before I what, Sneak?” Ghost spat, shaking with the effort it took to contain himself. “Before I tell Price? Before I jump to conclusions? What? You gonna try and tell me those aren’t what I think they are? Are you going to keep lying to me? Well go on then, tell me what you think I want to hear, Sneak. It’s what you’ve been doing this whole time isn’t it! You selfish little lying fuck.”

“No! I never wanted to lie to you Ghost, I just-”

“You never wanted to lie to me? Yet, you let me believe that König had screwed you over that day in the gym. Mustn't have been some cheap lay by the looks of things, that must have been you that clawed up his back like that! And to think all this time, I thought better of you,” he snorted, pounding the wall next to you with his gloved palm. “You made us look like idiots running around after you, trying to make you feel better all this time! You’ve had us all concerned about you while you’ve been fucking that cunt behind our backs!”

You whimpered and shrunk into the cold plaster at your back, distantly feeling like you were lying on a slab at a morgue. Everything in you said that it wasn’t long until you were going to be meeting your end. Ghost was wide eyed and loud as a lion as he tore into you, now slapping both his hands on the wall and sandwiching you firmly between him and it. You gulped and clenched your fists, trying to swallow the burning feeling that crept up your throat like a trail of gasoline. Everything was falling apart and you couldn't even see the pieces through the wreckage to try and save them.

“I didn’t intend for that to happen…it just happened that way. You assumed that König had slept around - I didn’t say it - I just didn't correct you. I couldn’t correct you!”

“Do you think that helps? Do you think it’s better knowing that you took advantage of my trust - in all of the 141’s trust? Do you know how much it hurts to realise that someone that you thought you could count on could be capable of deceiving you for months? That someone that you treat like family apparently doesn’t give a shit and would throw you away for a bit of Austrian Muscle? He’s barely even a person under all that fight and armour, he’s a fucking monster, Sneak, and yet you’ve left us for him!”

You clenched your teeth and rubbed the tears from your cheeks, furiously shaking even though you tried to resist. Ghost knew he had you overwhelmed. He was taking full advantage of your upset, taking his revenge on you now and tearing you down. After all those months you spent running ahead of him, keeping on top of all your lies, you’d really thought that you might manage to get away with it all. Not anymore. Your feet were knocked from under you now.

“I- It- It wasn’t like that!” You protested, choking on your words.

“How wasn’t it?” Ghost roared.

“Because he’s not a monster! We care for each other, he- he cares for me, Ghost.”

“Oh, clearly! You’d have to, it has to be worth it, doesn’t it? You’ve made your choice haven’t you? You’ve gambled your place in the 141 all these months and now your chickens have come home to roost. You think you broke our trust by going against my order that day on the field? How do you think this elaborate fucking lie is going to look to Price? It’s going to ruin you, Sneak.You’re going to break up the team!”

“You mean- you, and Pr- Price is going to kick me out?”

“Who knows what the fuck he’ll do! All I know for fact is that this is going to shake the trust of everyone here. It sure as shit rocked my faith in you, who knows what the others will think when they hear about this. Doesn’t make sense to keep someone around that’s capable of going behind our backs like this.”

A boulder settled in your stomach then. Ghost’s voice had dropped severely low, his angry snarling dying down to a quiet threat. His eyes were narrowed and staring at you with a deadly precision, betraying the scene that surely played in his head - the one where he strangled you for making such an idiot out of him.

“Ghost, please,” you whimpered, closing your eyes. “I didn’t want things to be this way. I had every intention of staying away, but it’s just…Well…I couldn’t give up on König, I care about the team and I love you all like brothers, but that doesn’t mean I could just abandon König and all the feelings I had for him. I just… I just thought that I could have both.”

You felt like an idiot saying it out loud.

In that moment a haunting realisation overtook you, the minute you opened your eyes and saw Ghost’s almost hollow mask sockets staring back at you through the gloom, you knew something. You’d made your choice all those months ago. You’d chosen König. That’s how everyone would see it anyway, they’d never understand how much you wished you could be a part of both worlds.

You knew Ghost could see exactly what you were thinking. He snorted as all the features in your face drooped, backing away from you. You sniffed and pushed yourself off the wall, barely keeping yourself from stumbling as you chased after him.

“Ghost, wait!”

He chuckled, his throat emitting a dark and choppy sound, one you hadn’t heard before. You shivered and tried to catch up with him, boots slapping hard and fast against the floor as you attempted to match his furious pace.

“Ghost, please, you can’t tell Price yet!”

“And why’s that, Sneak? You want a little accomplice in this, hm? You want someone else to go against Price just to make you feel better? The 141 isn’t a fuckin’ joke, even if you want to treat it that way.”

“I’m not asking you to lie!” you cried out, finally skidding to a stop in front of Ghost. “I’m asking you to wait.”

“Why would I do that?” he scoffed.

“Because we have a job to do,” you said, steeling yourself as much as you could even while tears still ran hot as acid down your cheeks and over your jaw.

“Oh, so now you care about doing your job, huh?”

“I care about you all, I care about the team, I care about this job more than anyone could ever know. Even though I fucked up…even though what I’ve done says otherwise, I do care. That’s why I’m asking you just to hold onto this until the job’s finished. I know exactly how this will go down Ghost, I know everyone will say the same as you have. Do you think this is what the team needs right before going away?”

You sighed and rubbed a palm over your sweating forehead, running your fingers over the wet strands of your hair. You’d been caught dead centre in your web of lies, the least you could do is untangle it with a sense of grace. Let your ruin come at the end of your last mission, let Price handle it all with a clear head, it was the least you could do. You had to make him see that.

“You can’t afford to lose anyone before you go after, Rousseau,” you continued, “Not the night before we leave. Just let me help you with this and then I’ll go to Price myself after all this is through. Just let me try to make things right and then…and then if- if Price wants to kick me out he can. I accept that…just let me help.”

Ghost halted in his tracks and balled his fists, kinetic energy fizzling away as he seemed to consider swinging them. You winced already, scrunching your eyes as you prepared for him to send you flying, but the hit never came. He opted for rolling his shoulders back instead and he paused on your words. For a moment, you worried he might reconsider and give you that well deserved blow, you weren’t completely relaxing yet. Tension sizzled through you both like a bomb fuse.

Deep down though, you knew he wouldn’t follow through on any of the dark thoughts swirling in his mind. Simmering in the burn of his gaze was a man that was deeply hurt. Even though you were probably one of the lowest life forms in his eyes at that moment, you were still family and he would never punish you like that. Even if he would willingly watch you go into exile.

“You’re telling me you feel fit to operate right now?” he asked, his words coming out with careful measure.

“There’s no other choice. I have to be,” you said with a bitter laugh, feeling like if you continued anymore, you might go hysterical. “All I know is that if we bring this to Price now, it puts the whole mission at risk and becomes a distraction. I accept that I fucked up, and that you probably can barely stand the sight of me, I do. For the sake of a mission though…don’t you think that we should get through this and let the team deal with it after? The last thing anyone needs is this. Please Ghost, you know I’m right. Even if this is the mission I go down on, at least let me do it without putting the others at risk because of what I’ve done.”

Ghost grunted and looked away from you, letting his body sag as he weighed your words. You’d gotten through to him, you’d delayed the inevitable. You knew it. You just needed him to say it.

You wished that he’d just tell you he’d let it go completely. For a hopeful second you wondered if maybe some time would stop him wanting to let Price know at all. Though that was never going to happen - if not for the fact that he was hurt from being lied to, then it would be the complete destruction of his faith in you.

Why couldn’t you have just listened to Ghost from the start? Why had you hurt him like this?

It was all getting too much to carry. Your heart thumped slowly and filled with lead and oil, thickening the blood in your veins like tar. Your whole body felt wrong, your lungs were gasping just to get by. Your head was spinning as it tried to process all that had happened, rattling with the drum beat of your pulse. It took every ounce of energy you had left just to stay upright, feeling like you might start swaying as you lingered in Ghost's heavy shadow.

“Alright,” he said eventually, voice gruff and distant. “Fine.”

You swallowed thickly and risked eye contact with him. That only served to reignite his anger though, the shadows in the hallway seemingly shivering around him as he loomed over you again.

“I won’t tell Price yet, but I’m warning you - you wait a single moment to tell him when we get back from this, then I’ll find that dopey Austrian cunt, and I’ll string him up and make you watch as what little light he has in him leaves his miserable fucking corpse. Do I make myself clear?”

You froze before nodding stiffly, body jerking as he shoved past you.

“Clear,” you whispered, talking to no one as you were left alone in the empty grey corridor.

-☠️-

You confined yourself to the darkness that night. You were alone in your room, curling your hands around your knees in bed with the lights off, heavily breathing like some kind of demented horror movie creature. The Only thing that haunted you though was your mind.

There was no getting away from it, no sharing the load with anyone else, who was there to tell? It was just you and your horrible thoughts, locked up tight together with no respite from any voices of reason. It wasn’t like you could tell the others.

König had tried to message you, but you couldn’t face him. You just messaged something quick back, reading only a couple lines of what he’d sent you first. You couldn’t talk to him either. There was no way he could know about what Ghost knew or otherwise you’d be kicking off the fight of the century.

Even with the complete lack of light in that tiny space, you still continued to see the bright whites of Ghost’s mask in front of your face. His hard blue eyes were burning holes into you like the pits of hell. It had your heart racing. Your skin felt too hot, your lungs burned with effort, feeling like they would burst with your heart ramming into them. Nothing could calm you down.

Knock.

You froze in your place, back stiffening somehow even further against the corner you’d shoved yourself into. You weren’t expecting company. Part of your mind wondered if Ghost had given in and told Price. Though as you thought on it for a few more seconds you knew in your heart of hearts that the moment, if Price knew about your relationship he sure as fuck wouldn’t come quietly knocking on your door. The sound was too soft, like someone that was trying to be discreet.

Only one person that could be - surely.

You padded over to the door and took a breath, holding the cold handle in your palm for a moment and letting it recenter you. If it was who you suspected it was, you couldn’t let him know that you’d been found out. He couldn’t get mad at Ghost and give you away. He couldn’t have the stress of your relationship reveal running through his mind while you were in an active warzone. If something were to happen to König because of your stupidity, then Price finding out about you both would be the least of your worries.

Why had you chosen the path that had put everyone you love into such a horrible position? Why had you lied so much to them all?

You swallowed the lump in your throat and closed your eyes for a second, only just opening the door as a tall figure had begun to retreat in the darkness. You watched as the giant stopped in his tracks and then you smiled softly when he walked back to you. The red tears of his mask were the first things to reveal themselves as he stepped into the flickering light that buzzed by your door.

“Did I wake you?” König asked, honey thick voice coming in at a low whisper.

“No,” you sighed, gesturing for him to come in, “couldn’t sleep. How come you’re here? You haven’t messaged.”

“I couldn’t sleep either. I wanted to see you before we left - see you alone,” he answered, stepping into your doorway. “And i did message, you messaged me back - remember? You were a little blunt with me, so I got worried.”

Oh.

You shut the door behind him and watched as he walked confidently past you and over to the lamp by your bed. He’d only been in your room a couple of times, despite your insistence he shouldn't risk showing up. Though even those stolen moments were enough for him to remember the layout as if the room were his own.

He flicked the switch on your lamp that sat on your bedside table and looked back up at you then. He was bathed in warm yellow light like an angel that had been sent to soothe your troubled head. Even his eyes seemed to melt through the edge that had settled over you.

“You don’t look very good, darling,” he noted, frowning over at you. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

He tilted his head at you and with that, seemed to remember he was still wearing his mask. His eyes had grown wide like pale blue whirlpools. With fumbling hands, König tugged the fabric over his head and got himself out of the draped material, his tired face was revealed. His hair blew around before it settled into a messy nest on top of his head and his dark eyes refocused on you once he’d been freed from the hood. They were baggy with exhaustion.

You knew that feeling well. Not that you could tell him the real reason why.

“Hm?” he hummed, walking towards you now. “What’s got you so upset?”

You shook your head and tried to smile at him, accepting the hug that he wrapped you into with a sigh of relief. You didn’t have a good answer for him. Instead you pressed your head into his chest and inhaled his scent, taking in hints of gunfire and metal that his mask had left behind and, of course, the faint notes of your berry tea - betraying his thievery.

“Have you been stealing my tea again, mister?” you asked, trying to distract him.

“Me? Stealing from you? Never,” he chuckled, the sound reverberating through his body and soaking through to yours.

“More like all the time!” you grinned, finally chancing a look up at him again.

“Well really, you only have yourself to blame,” he said, stroking his thumb across your chin. “You should never have got me hooked on it if you didn’t want me to indulge myself every once in a while.”

“Mmm…Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s so.”’

You shook your head at him and tapped him on the arm, prompting him to release you. He let you go, but followed immediately behind you when you went to sit on the bed. He took little time in swiftly drawing you back into his hold once again, nestling you both into the wrinkled sheets on your sad little bed, adjusting himself into your extra cushions.

His presence might have been making you feel uneasy, the pressure to not tell him anything growing with each passing second. However it was undeniable that the weight around your body was helping you, scattering your worries the tighter he held you.

“Are you going to tell me?” König pressed.

“Tell you what?”

“You know what,” he said dryly.

You huffed out a sigh. He wasn’t going to let it go though, he repositioned you then and made you face him, keeping you pinned and lying on your side.

“I know that the reason you smell of berries is because you don’t lift your mask all the way when you drink my tea. Then it gets damp and rubs off onto your shirt,” you said softly, smiling to yourself as you thought of him guiltily sneaking cups of it.

He looked down at you pointedly and rolled his eyes. Ok, so he wasn’t going to let it go then. You stared back at him for a moment before you lay back against his chest and proceeded to close your eyes, reaching out into the beyond to try and think of something to say. Anything other than the truth behind your insomnia.

“I’m worried about this op,” you whispered quietly. “And what comes after.”

“What? Why?” he asked, wrapping his arm around you tighter. “Why on earth would you be worried?”

“There’s a lot riding on it. It’ll be dangerous too, more than any of the other missions we’ve been on,” you shrugged. “Then there’s the unknowns that’ll come after it as well.”

“You know what will come after it,” König said, a smile weaving itself into his voice. “We will go to Austria together and I will take you on many adventures and buy you lots of good food, real food.”

You laughed a little at what he said and relaxed against him. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heart thudding away behind your head, working away, strong as ever. Maybe the world wasn’t going to completely end, you thought distantly to yourself, maybe even if you didn’t have the 141 you could still make the best of things. Hell, maybe you could move to Austria.

In choosing König, you weren’t going to be alone after you were kicked out. You would still have him. It didn’t lift the burden that was sinking your heart any, but it sought to bring some light back into your mind. The thought of mountain trails and mornings waking up to his gentle kisses and calloused hands trailing their way down your back weren’t so bad, maybe there was something even a little enticing about those thoughts...

Your life would be in tatters, sure, but it would still be worth living. There would still be some happiness, even if you were down the love of four family members… Even if you never got to speak to them again.

“I am looking forward to our trip, that’s for sure,” you replied measuredly. “I just…I mean- I guess I don’t know what things will be like after all this is over. We’ve been working together through this mission through our whole relationship and now that it’s coming to an end… I dunno - I guess I’m just intimidated by all the unknowns.”

You felt ok saying that. It wasn’t completely false. In reality you were far more worried about the situations you knew you’d face rather than the ones that were unknown, but ultimately Price being told about your relationship was still a mystery in terms of punishment.

You had no idea what he might decide to do with you once he’d found out about your betrayal. For all you were aware he could’ve been planning to send you off to one of the worst deployments that you’d ever known in your life. What then?

“You always worry so much” König sighed, tracing his hand up your body so that he could stroke the side of your face. “Know that whatever we both do next…no matter what…you will have all of my heart, and I will do anything to make sure that you get to hold it in your arms whenever possible…because I love you.”

You froze in place, eyes going wide as you processed what he said. He had spoken the unspoken, he had finally put into words the feelings that you knew were there, but both of you had been too guarded to let slip. He was telling you that he loved you, giving you a gift while you lied straight to his face.

“I love you and I will do anything to make this work. I’d dig a hole through to the otherside of the world just to be with you, there’s nowhere you can be sent to that I won’t find a way to reach you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into your cheek.

You let a little breath of silence hang in the air for a moment and bit your lip, feeling a tear track its way down your face while you battled with your throat to stay silent. You couldn’t let him know what you were actually upset about.

You loved him too after all.

And for that reason you couldn't reveal the truth that Ghost had uncovered, it would send him spiralling. Would compromise him and mission. You could put him in danger, more so than you had already by involving Ghost - and soon Price’s - wrath.

“I love you too, König…” you murmured. “I love you so much.”

He let out a breath at your admission, you felt it whistling past your neck. You shivered, and tried not to think too hard on what would happen when he found out you’d withheld the truth from him that night.

“I love you so much, in fact, that I’m looking past the fact that you chose the night before a huge operation to tell me that,” you said with a laugh, trying to distract yourself from the demon’s in your head.

He laughed too. You both relaxed into the vibrations of each other's bodies and then lay quietly for a moment, staring up at the old scuffed ceiling above.

Though you couldn’t linger there for long. You pushed your way out of his almost iron grip and rolled around, propping your head up so that you could see his face. You were surprised to see the look of consternation that greeted you. It was like looking into a mirror. His eyes were half lidded as he looked down and his lips were pursed, the pink line of his scar stretching taught as he thought deeply on something.

“Well, seeing as you love me too… Would you offer me some assurance?”

You reached over to him and cupped his jaw in your hands, adjusting his face so that he’d meet your gaze. You searched his eyes for a moment and suddenly something clicked in the place as you were finally broken out of your wallowing.

“Assurance for whatever it was that you couldn’t sleep over?” you guessed.

He nodded, the scratch of his stubble sharply rubbing against your palm. You smoothed your thumb over his cheek and he leaned into your touch, somehow looking younger and smaller than he usually did.

“Things will be intense tomorrow…I will be breaching rooms with countless unknown men that will be shooting at us, and I’ll be having to make quick decisions - act on instinct. Whatever you see tomorrow, know that I love you and that I wish you didn’t have to witness any of it. In another life, I’d spare you from ever having to even know about it. I just need to know, that after we come back, no matter what you see, that you won’t run from me. As much as I’ve tried to protect myself, I know that that’s all over now. I know now there’s no way to save myself from the hurt, the same way I couldn’t protect myself from anyone else I’ve ever loved in my life. I just want to know that you’ll give me a chance to explain myself if you see something that you don’t like again… that you won’t leave me.”

Oh König…

You felt the remainder of your tears threaten to spill over and flood your sheets, but you held them back and closed your eyes instead, thinking for a moment. You hadn’t reacted well the last time you’d heard him at work. How would you react if you were to see him in action now?

You shuddered at the thought, but let it pass quickly. At the end of the day, you were all going there to reap an unspeakable violence to a group of people that had committed atrocities in return. There were no pure intentions and there were no good players between any of you. There was only putting an end to a group that threatened to kill innocents. If König was going to be at the head of the speartip, then he had to be damn sharp. You couldn’t have him ineffective with worry over what you might think.

Couldn’t put him at risk.

“König, I promise that whatever I see…whatever I think or feel in the moment…I won’t shut you out. We can talk about it all when we get home again. But whatever you do, don’t put yourself in harm's way trying to protect my feelings. We’ll make it through this together, no matter what, ok?”

He smiled at you, a twinkle returning to his sapphire irises. He turned and kissed your hand, you still held his head, and you both closed your eyes for a moment, revelling in the private moment between yourselves.

“Ok,” he finally replied. “I feel like I can sleep now. Why don’t you try to get some rest as well? See if you can shut off that busy mind of yours.”

You both settled into a silence after that, letting yourselves relax into the calm. At some point you turned back around and a little while later, König switched off your lamp. In the back of your mind you worried that you’d be discovered come morning time, but König assuaged your fears before you could air them and whispered to you, tickling your ear as he told you that he’d set an early alarm.

“I love you, König,” you whispered, your half smile lost to the night.

It felt like something to giggle over, like a secret between school children. You could barely contain your smile.

“I love you too,” König replied, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’ll love you always.”

-☠️-

König had stayed true to his word and had left while the sky remained dark, shutting off his near silent alarm on the second ring and scurrying out quietly before anyone would be any the wiser. Anyone that didn’t already know anything anyway.

It felt like Ghost had almost sold you out the moment that you’d stepped foot onto the transport. The sound of your boots nervously clanging against the metal ramp drew his attention, and all at once his conversation with the Captain ceased and he fixed his eyes on you with a glare.

It was enough to freeze you into place, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him until he released his mental hold over you. You Clutched furiously onto the handle of your backpack, hoping like hell that it wouldn’t shake too badly.

For a few painful seconds you were stuck still, though just as you thought that Ghost might say something after all, he turned away again and blanked you completely. Price gave him a frown and said something low under his breath, but whatever it was Ghost shook his head and carried on with what they were discussing before.

It was like some kind of twisted game of red light/green light. If that’s the way he’s going to play things this’ll be a hell of a way to go out, you thought to yourself. That is if you even made it out of the mission.

You were supposed to be on Ghost’s team, and at that point you weren’t completely convinced that he would bother too much to look out for you anymore. No, now it was just you and Horangi, and as much as König seemed to get on with him, you and he had never exchanged more than a couple of words to each other.

Would Soap and Gaz offer swapsies?

You shook your head at the thought of Gaz ever going off plan, especially one that Price had approved. No, instead of hoping for better, you faced reality and took a seat far away from Ghost, throwing your stuff down for what felt like the last time. You sank down on your cracking knees, settling next to your bulging bag and holding it like a plush toy. The squishy material was solid under your grasp and made a great pillow for you to rest your head on. It was enough to lull you into a sense of security, enough to make you close your eyes.

“Sneak!”

Your head shot up and you lost your breath, staring wide eyed into the direction that you’d heard the voice come from. Was it Ghost? Was he going to reveal everything just to spite you now that you were getting comfortable?

No. Soap looked down at you instead, shooting you a grin as he saw how much you’d shit yourself at his shout. Stupid bastard. You hit out at his leg and huffed when he sat down next to you, feeling like his loud obnoxious voice in your ear was just about the last thing you needed.

And just to sour your mood more, just to make matters all the better, he shoved your shoulder and almost sent you keeling over and tumbling over to Ghost and Price. As if Ghost needed another reason to want to get back at you.

You threw your hands out and pushed yourself up, attempting to shove him almost twice as hard back. He’d dodged at the last second and had you wheeling forward this time, though at the very least you had your bag to fall onto instead of Ghost this time.

“What the fuck are you being so childish for?” you grumbled, recovering and rubbing the sore spot where he’d shoved you.

“Ooft, someone’s grumpy, eh?” Soap tittered, smile never leaving his face. “Did you not get much rest last night?”

You grunted and folded your arms, staring straight ahead like you might melt the plane’s walls.

“The fuck does it matter to you?”

“I’ll take that as a yes then - as usual.”

Soap raised his brows, challenging you to defend yourself. Normally you’d probably shove him again or throw a verbal barb at him, but that day you were in no mood to play. Especially not when the truth was going to come out sooner rather than later, and you weren’t convinced you were going to be on joking terms anymore.

No, it wouldn’t be long until he knew about you and König, and your mind was already filled with the sight of his angry frown setting itself upon you. It was better that you didn’t make it all worse by pretending everything was fine, you reasoned, so that being the case you ignored him and planted your head back down on your bag.

“Crabbit little twat,” Soap snorted. “Better find your sense of humour before you wake up again. And if you’re gonna be in a mood with me, then you can forget sleepin’ and drooling all over me too!”

You grunted in response, and gave him nothing else. You were too sick with worry to respond properly, even despite the ache that developed as you realised that that might be one of your last ‘friendly’ interactions with him. The weight in your heart increased tenfold, feeling as if it were a sand timer growing heavier by the minute. Better not to think about it. Better to shut it all out, to shut down.

Unsurprisingly your mood wasn’t lifted by the sleep you caught up on. It only served to keep you from agonising about your situation until the plane slammed down onto the dodgy countryside landing strip. That shocked you back to life again. From then on, until you reached the safe house, your mood remained sour and kept the others from bothering you much.

When you got there, of course, you had to buck up and try to act normal. You couldn’t have the others picking anything up, couldn’t let them think you were anything else except tired and grumpy. It wasn’t that far outside the realm of normal, you never slept very well whenever you had to travel away anyway.

When it came time to go over the briefing, you quietly set yourself as far away from Ghost as you could muster and stood around the projector wall, listening to Price’s briefing intently while you locked your arms into a folded position. The light splashed across his face in brief interludes, his weight was shifting from foot to foot as he walked you all through the plan in his booming voice, he was restless. He was right to be.

Price knew that the intelligence that had been gathered was of questionable accuracy - he told you all as much and Laswell confirmed it. She didn’t look that much more confident that him. The men who’d spilled their guts to the interrogators had varying degrees of incentive to reveal the true nature and layout of their base and all of you knew that they were highly fantastical to boot. It didn’t matter how many exercises you’d run through, none of you could’ve really known what was in store for when you raided the warehouse.

You’d looked round the room as he’d talked about that, scoping out the faces of all the men that you were going to fight alongside. Your eyes slowly ran over the 141, König, Horangi, and all those of the other team that Price had assembled to lock down the perimeter. There were hard eyes all around, everyone stayed quiet, listening to the captain until his very last word. Even Laswell had limited interjections, she was just as stone faced as everyone else, letting Price take the lead.

“I want all of you to be at the top of your game. On a mission like this there is zero and I really do mean zero margin for error! You make a mistake on Rousseau’s home turf and you will get yourself or one of your teammates killed. All of you must communicate, I want clear positions and status updates on comms. You will tell me where you are in the warehouse and you will let me know who you come across, is that clear?”

You all responded, an impassioned “yes, sir!” rang throughout the room, ricocheting off of the walls and back into the crowd like a bullet.

“Good,” Price said curtly. “Now, enough talking,we move out in thirty minutes. And remember - Zero margin for error! Clear communication! Don’t get yourselves killed.”

“Yes, sir!”

You all sounded off for the last time and set to work scurrying around, gathering gear and preparing the trucks for departure. You’d be driving out until you reached the edge of the forest and from then on you would be trekking out to the compound, a group of old warehouses that had belonged to a logging company before it had gone out of business years before. You were in for a hard day.

Though as Ghost reminded you, when he icily stared at you from the otherside of the room, the hardship wasn’t going to end at capturing Rousseau. Your problems were only going to multiply from that day on.

You were the first to break eye contact that time, nervously shifting away and grabbing your gear, double checking your ammo and your pockets. You stroked your hands up through the curves and rough textures of your armour and bags and went through your mental checklist, trying to fill your mind with something other than all the swirling thoughts that threatened to compromise you.

“All good, Sneak?”

You snapped your head to your left side, meeting Gaz’s tilted stare.

“All good, Sergeant,” you answered, repacking a few of your rounds.

“Sergeant?” he chuckled.

“Did your rank change while I was asleep?”

“No, but you seemed to,” he shrugged.

“I’m stressed, there’s a lot at stake here,” you said, swallowing down another of your silly lies. “But all that matters is that I’m here right?”

Gaz shook his head as you reminded him of the words he’d said to you months before. Ever since he’d lectured you about letting König distract you, you liked to tease him and call him mini Price, reciting his words back to him without fail. I wanna go out there knowing you’re here with us and not turning yourself into a walking target. You’d do your best Price impression whenever you recounted them.

You didn’t bother this time - not while Price was in the room with you. Gaz rolled his eyes and patted your back, almost turning away to sort his own things before a smile lit his face.

“Well with a good attitude like that I might just keep you around when I get promoted to Captain,” he laughed, walking away before he could see the smile dropping off your face.

Gaz might’ve wanted to keep you around - but would Price?

-☠️-

It was unsurprising, to say the least, that you were going to discover John Rousseau’s last stand wasn’t going to be easy. No. He was intent on going out with a bang.

It had been a difficult breach, you’d lost a couple of the men that Price had sent to crack the warehouse open with you. They’d fallen in the fatal funnel that had been created when the enemy worked out your entry point. Despite the high levels of bloodshed though, König remained mostly unharmed.

You’d tried not to let yourself get distracted by him, but even still, had found your eyes magnetised to him at times, had seen him shooting quickly and forcing enemies close when he needed to, basically folding people in half in an effort to break them. Some of the sounds their bones made still echoed in your ears.

Everything had moved so fast. Your mind had very little bandwidth to process it all. One moment you were on the first floor, desperately trying to locate the stairs and get to Rousseau’s ‘war room’, the next you were deep into the building, continuing to blast through doors with Soap at the head while you, Ghost and Horangi secured the rear.

Gunshots echoed out throughout the hallways, lights flickered and sparked and rained down electrical orange confetti as they were shot from the ceiling and swung out like some kind of deadly assault course. The floor in front of you flashed white and gold and soon you were drowned in darkness. All the lights in the room crashed down into their final resting places.

Ghost was in the room across from you, Horangi was with him too. You’d decided to separate when you’d seen a lone man run into the little office, you were convinced you’d seen someone hauling a massive gun across his back. It was hard to be sure what it was, maybe some type of PKM, but whatever it could have been would do a lot of damage, you knew that much. Though now, as you were left alone in the shadows, it had felt like your mind had played tricks on you.

Your breathing was shallow, and no matter how thick your earbuds were, your ears were still ringing from all the abuse they’d had to endure. It felt like you’d been crammed under an old church bell and someone was hitting it on all sides. There was a lightning storm in your head and a heatwave through your whole body.

Part of you was almost begging to be in the debrief with Price already.

You flicked your night vision down and scoped the room, tracing through the green fog for any signs of enemies. There was nothing obvious. The pulse of your speeding heart thumped away steadily in your ears while the room remained deathly still. Where the fuck are you?

Something flashed out of the corners of your eyes and before you could even turn to see it, you were being overwhelmingly set upon. You stepped backward and leveraged your weight, getting yourself in a good position to strike your assailant and baulked when he stopped you in your tracks and smashed you against the wall.

Ouch.

The air shot out of your lungs, your goggles had skewed over your eyes, but after a few seconds of shock you were thankfully able to dodge the figure from hitting you and shoved them off to your side. With tears in your eyes, and knees screaming out, you got yourself up.

It was fight or die. You picked up your gun, scraping the heavy weapon against the floor, and unloaded it into your attacker, just as he tried to rush you again.

His body collapsed to the floor in a spray of mist and you watched motionlessly as he fell forward and into a lifeless heap at your feet. The gun was like a lead brick in your arms, but still you held it aloft, waiting for anyone else that might try to get the drop on you.

Why’s it so quiet?

“Sneak, what the fuck was that?” Ghost called out. “And where the fuck did you run off to?”

You could hear him distantly through in the other room, but his voice was also straining loud and clear over the busy comms, you knew your reply would be too. All of you had been running around for a lot longer than you would’ve liked. Then again, it was a blessing that you were still up and kicking if anything. There had been so many surprise attacks launched on you, you were lucky to only sport a few bruises for your troubles.

“In the room across from you LT. Took down an enemy, heading back to you now.”

You took one last look around the ruins of the office, and once satisfied there were no more hidden assailants, you walked toward the doorway. After plastering yourself to the wall, you took a look up and down the hall, pivoting out a little just to be sure no one was going to take a lucky shot. All clear. Well, one end of the hallway anyway, the other was completely blocked off by a stack of fallen units and desks.

Probably not a good sign.

Were they directing you?

You crossed the threshold fully and bolted into the next room, locking eyes with Ghost as he perched his foot on a fallen desk chair, it was rattling from his weight. Horangi gave you a nod from Ghost’s side and glanced over to the head of the room, keeping watch over Soap as he set up his charges with no small amount of grumbling. That wasn’t a good sign either.

Your body was getting tired, your back was aching from all the weight you’d been hauling round. The only thing getting lighter was your ammo. You were praying that you were close to the end, hoping that wherever this supposed room was that Rousseau had locked himself into, it was going to reveal itself soon. You didn’t know how much more you could take.

“Stay on that door Sneak, make sure no one else goes looking for hiding spots” Ghost directed. “What’s taking so long, Soap?”

You turned and followed Ghost’s order, side eyeing König as he stood over your struggling teammates, dwarfing Gaz and Soap under his watchful stance. He was breathing heavily, you could see the dramatic rise and fall of his hood giving away his fatigue. Other than that though, you were relieved to see that he was still unhurt.

Focus!

You snapped your attention to the hallway again and ignored your boyfriend, pulling your thoughts away from him completely. It had been a long time since you’d been on a mission with König and you were unused to the amount of space he took up. He was clouding your thoughts, sending your brain churning out worry like a spitting volcano as he kept charging through doorways and getting up close and personal with men as if he were indestructible.

You shook your head and cast your eyes through the shadows, watching out for movement. You couldn’t linger over König any longer.

Soon you realised that there wasn’t any noise. It wasn’t right. Things never went the way you’d trained for almost one hundred percent of the time, but it was strange that there hadn’t been more men around. You’d encountered most of the men on the way in and now that you were further into the heart of the building they were sprouting up in numbers few and far between. That combined with the fact the building felt strategically blocked off in areas was all just one big red flag, waving and buffeting like a sail in the breeze.

“LT, there’s explosives already set here,” Soap shouted. “I couldn’t be sure before…but they've hidden them in the door casing. Powerful stuff by the looks of it too. If we try to get through this we could end up blasting ourselves to the moon by the looks of it.”

You whipped your head around and back to the group at the door, watching as they all stepped back. All at once everyone's heads snapped to Ghost and he frowned deeply enough that it could be seen through his eyeblack.

“Price, did you get that?” Ghost asked, speaking clearly for the comms.

“Copy,” Price said, his voice crackling through all of your headsets. “Can you find an alternative route ahead?”

“Not on this floor,” Ghost responded. “This is the only way up.”

“Fuck!”

You winced at Price’s outburst and bit your lip. Should you speak?

Fuck it.

“There haven’t been a lot of men compared to what we expected either,” you noted. “Anyone else get the feeling we’ve been set up?”

Everyone else seemed to have the same thought, Gaz nodded your way, König looked like he wanted to scratch his way out of the walls and take you with him, Ghost narrowed his eyes. Was he annoyed you’d stated the obvious? You frowned over at him, but he moved shortly after that, sidling up to the window and taking a cautious peak outside. His back visibly stiffened as he caught a glimpse of something.

“Price, there’s a truck heading out the gates to the south side. Do you see it?”

“We’re tracking it now. Ghost, take both of the teams out of the warehouse, whatever’s going on, I don’t like it. Meet us back at the extraction point, copy?”

“Copy, Captain.”

Ghost motioned his head in the direction of the doorway you were still guarding and while the others filed toward you, you stayed in place. You had to ensure no one would surprise them while they stepped out of the room. Ghost passed you and patted your shoulder, his touch like a lightning shock to your system.

As much of a professional as he was, you hadn't expected him to be at a point where he was making an effort to praise you. A warmth spread over your chest then.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t let yourself get too carried away. You put it to the back of your mind and followed up the rear of your group, looking around as you passed through the hallways of fallen men. Bodies littered the floors and by then most of the hallways were dark and devoid of any lighting. The green haze of your night vision goggles continued to wave unsettlingly and the crunch of debris was ever present under your boots.

“We need to move slowly and quietly,” Ghost directed, heading toward the front of your group. “If the bastards have set up bombs there’s no telling what way they were trying to direct us and what happens if another one of them catches us alive. Any one of them could have a detonator, and we know from previous encounters they’re not shy about martyring themselves for the cause.”

Your heart rate picked up, but still you kept marching ahead. The group moved forward like a little troupe of ants, following your masked leader to what you hoped was safety. Each skittering stray piece of furniture under your feet had you jumping, every breath you took was like a gust of wind. Even with your ears ringing it felt like every bit of muffled noise was coming through like the beginnings of a dance anthem.

Knowing that someone with the power to blow the whole building on you might jump out at any second wasn’t great for your weakening composure. That wouldn’t stop you though. Your group powered on down the halls until you reached the lower stairway, and each of you took every step with care, pointing your weapons in different directions just to be sure that every angle was covered.

With your gun pointed down, you were able to see that there was activity on the bottom floor, you could see people moving down below. You tapped Soap on the shoulder and pointed them out, allowing him to pass on the message until it carried on through the line and down to Ghost. All of you stopped moving then and watched the little group, stuck in silence while they propped open a piece of wood that had been covering a doorway in the stairs.

Ghost extended his arm and gave you all a series of clear hand signals, watching down the line to make sure you all read him clearly. Stay silent. Stay on me. We’re following them.

There was more pressure than ever to make sure that your steps were soundless. Your heartbeat was in your ears and your body was buzzing with how tightly your muscles were wound. Every step took you closer to the bottom and to the hatch, every successful movement gave you hope that you wouldn’t be found out.

When your group reached the bottom, you were able to see that the men had replaced the sheet of wood and old construction PVC to try and hide the secret exit. Clearly that hadn’t been meant for your eyes. Perhaps it was lucky that you’d come to the stairway at the right time - it was hard to say, maybe they’d meant for exactly that to happen.

Ghost looked to König and together, without having to communicate, they shifted the board and König took position at the front. As always, he was first to breach.

All of you crept into the blown out entryway and were surprised to find a tunnel at your feet, complete with a very haphazard ladder built down into it. Aside from that, the little room you were in was empty. König replaced the piece of wood over the door once everyone was inside and soon you were surrounded in complete shadow, staring around at the others through the green hues.

“Price, we’ve found a tunnel under the stairway of the building. What do you want us to do?” Ghost enquired, keeping an eye on the tunnel to make sure no one down below indicated that they’d heard him.

The comms were quiet, nothing but the ghostly whisper of static crumbling away at your ears. All of you eyed each other, stares hard enough to the cut the air between you all. The little room was getting hot with all of your bodies filling it, each breath getting harder to take.

“Price, come in,” Ghost demanded. “Laswell? Anyone?”

Nothing.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Soap breathed.

You pursed your lips and kept your stare fixed on Ghost. His eyes were jumping between you all like he was deciding on his lunchtime football team. He took a moment to think, trying to bring clarity into the stuffy room, he was probably waiting for Price to come back in too, but nevertheless the line remained dead.

“Right. Here’s what we’re gonna do. More than likely this entire building is rigged to blow, we need to get out, but more than likely this tunnel is a sign that Rousseau must be here. He would never have left all his men behind, he likes to make a show of being on base and ‘protecting’ and taking control of his men. König, you’re gonna lead Horangi and Gaz through the back entrance at the loading bay and head to the extraction point, find out why command isn’t talking to us. I’m taking Sneak and Soap with me and we’re gonna see what’s down there, see if we can’t dig Rousseau out.”

“What?”

All of you turned your heads as König spoke, the sharpness of his voice coming out muffled through his hood.

“Did you not hear me right?” Ghost asked.

“I heard you clearly, Lieutenant,” König sneered. “But I don’t agree with that course of action. You can’t just go wandering around tunnels with only two people with you, that’s suicide. Price gave his orders before the line went down, he was very clear, therefore we should all be going to the extraction point.”

“This isn’t the time to disagree with me, König.”

“It is if you’re going to get yourself and two of your subordinates killed,” König said, clearly gritting his teeth. “Not to mention you’re abandoning us with god knows how many men waiting outside to stop us from leaving.”

“Nice of you to care about what happens to us,” Ghost remarked, “Then again there’s probably only one person you’re trying to protect here, isn’t there?”

Your stomach dropped to your feet. It was like a small fire had broken out in the room and now you had the urge to go beating down the secret entrance and throwing caution to the wind. Was this really going to happen?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” König asked.

“You know what it means. Now would you like to press the issue or would you like to get back to your job and do what you’re being paid to do, you fucking goon.”

König seemed to shoot you a sideways glance, you couldn’t really tell with his visor down, but before you could think to warn him otherwise he decided that it was indeed time to press the issue. Every fibre of your being wanted to throttle him then. If your choice was crawling into a death tunnel or ending up in an argument between Ghost and König during an operation, then tunnel of death it is!

“Paid personnel or not, at least I’m trying to get us all out safely,” König retorted.

“All? Trying to make sure we all get out, or just trying to make sure you’ve got a warm hole to crawl back to at the end of this? Which is it really?”

There was an almost tangible silence in the room. It was as if there was a thick bubble coating you all, preventing a single whisper of noise from escaping. You couldn’t even hear the others breathe, not over König anyway. He was panting like a charging bull, breaking through the bubble, he sounded like he was ready to tear Ghost down into a stump.

“Ghost, what’re you talking about?” Soap said, not able to contain himself. “We shouldn’t be arguing, we should be moving! Let’s just go.”

“You’re not going down into that tunnel, Sergeant!” König warned, making a move to stop Soap.

“Or what?” Ghost asked, rising to his full height and jumping into König’s path.

König stood silently, he didn’t say anything - but he didn't allow Ghost to intimidate him either. He stood perfectly still, besides straightening his back, and eyed his opponent. The two of them looked like windup toys ready to strike.

“Nothing to say?” Ghost sneered. “Then move.”

“Lieutenant, be reasonable,” König said.

“I am being incredibly reasonable, König,” Ghost laughed, a dark chuckle rumbling from his throat. “In fact, judging by the way you’re acting, maybe Sneak can tell you just how reasonable I’m being.”

Everyone’s heads turned to you, navigating the thick silence that followed with ease. Their night vision goggles stared you down as if they were being programmed to move in sync. You swallowed a thick lump in your throat and gripped tightly at your gun, holding onto it like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. What were you supposed to say now?

“What’s going on?” Gaz sighed, clearly at the end of his tether.

“Tell them what’s going on, Sneak,” Ghost ordered. “Tell them exactly why this little song and dance is happening right now. Go on. Let them know why Captain Rags has his face in a twist over you going down into the tunnel. Let’s get it out there for the world to know.”

Every one of his words hit you like a knife in your gut. There were blades sticking out at all angles and it was taking all your strength just to stay up. So this was it? You were truly going out in a blaze, but it was far from glorious.

“Sneak?” König said, his voice strained with confusion.

“König, Ghost found the pictures in your wallet when he knocked your stuff off the rack yesterday,” you said quietly. “He knows we’re together.”

“What the fuck!” Soap whispered.

“Sneak, what do you mean you’re together?” Gaz asked. “You can’t be together, Price will fucking kill you…”

Horangi remained silent.

“Apparently they’re not ones for following orders,” Ghost sneered. “Otherwise we wouldn’t even be having this discussion would we?”

Ghost looked between you both and you growled out at yourself, sinking into disbelief that all of it was really happening. It felt surreal to be standing around arguing in a building that was full of god knows how many explosives. Why was it that König could never just follow orders? Why couldn’t you? The room was so hot it felt like you were all starting to cook, smelt like it too.

“König, just do as Ghost says and take the others,” you commanded. “At this rate we’re all going to get blown up and this whole argument won’t even matter.”

“Sneak-”

“No, König! Just go, we can all talk about it later.”

“That’s if you even make it back later!”

“Don’t think like that. Just take Horangi and Gaz back to extraction and find out why Price hasn’t answered us. Otherwise none of us are getting out of here!”

König continued to stare for a second more, but finally he’d seen sense. He shook his head and furiously muttered something to himself in German before he walked back to the exit. He gave you one last look and with that, slid back the wooden panel and walked out with Horangi in tow, missing only Gaz as he left you all.

With the door open and König gone you felt like you could breathe a little easier again, but as soon as you looked back at the others, the feeling went away. Gaz shook his head at you and walked out, mumbling something that was too low to hear and soon it was only you, Ghost and Soap left.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Sneak. What the fuck were you thinking? Have you really been lying to us all this time?”

You sighed and looked at Soap, watching the way his mouth downturned in disgust. A horrible nauseous feeling permeated in your stomach and in your throat, but you couldn’t pay too much attention to it. You had to keep your head on more important things.

“Clearly I wasn’t thinking,” you sighed. “Look, I’ll answer whatever questions you want after we’re out of this, but we need to get moving.”

“Agreed,” Ghost said, already heading for the tunnel. “We’ve had enough distraction already.”

Ghost cut Soap off from interrupting, shooting him a hard look before he took a flashbang from one of his holsters and primed it. He threw it down the tunnel and waited for a reaction. Nothing. After being met with silence, he quickly flew down into the darkness, leaving you and Soap up top. Soap surely burned a hole through his night vision and into you.

You shivered and followed Ghost, cautiously setting your foot on the ladder, not liking the way it wobbled with Ghost’s weight and yours. There wasn’t much to be done about it though. You had to get down there quickly and make sure he had backup.

You scurried down and stuck one foot behind the other, releasing each of the metal rungs like they were on fire. It didn’t take long until you were at the bottom and eventually Soap followed you both and rather nicely decided against booting you in the head on his way down, dropping to your side instead.

“There’s no one here, but they’ll have heard that, no doubt,” Ghost warned. “Stay close and lets find out what these fuckers are hiding down here.”

You nodded your agreement and followed him down the tunnel, watching the rickety support beams with a cautious eye. König had been right to worry.

What’s he thinking right now? Is he hurt?

Not again, stop thinking about him. Focus!

The tunnel didn’t seem like it had been in operation for very long. Something that had seen more use would surely have been built better, you reasoned, not looking like it could crumble at any second. As you took a few more twists and turns and continued to follow the path it didn’t seem to get much better. The walls looked hastily dug out and like any little disturbance might bury them. Though as you all turned another corner and followed the winding walkway, you were surprised to find yourself in a rather large cavernous room.

It was built solidly and looked far more like a permanent structure, it was supported by thick metal beams from which overhead lights were suspended and hanging down from long wires. It also contained a plethora of scaffolding like shelves, housing a few abandoned looking wooden crates, some of them looked like they’d been raided, others were dusty and dark with disuse. You flipped your goggles up and watched the two men at your sides repeat the action, finally noticing the true extent of all the grime and blood that had covered them both.

“What is this place?” Soap wondered out loud.

“Looks like some kind of storage facility. Well, it was one anyway,” you remarked.

You didn’t miss the way Soap narrowed his eyes at you from the side of his vision. He advanced forward through the looming racks while you stayed behind and watched the other men go. You had to give yourself a second for the bile to stop rising in your stomach. To say that being on an op with two men that had it out for you was making you feel uneasy was an understatement.

However you didn’t have the luxury of lingering on for very long. Once you noticed Ghost heading to the set of shelves that blocked your view of the head of the room, you started to follow after him, ensuring that he’d have some cover. Part of you felt better being around someone that had had longer to digest the news.

Once you’d flown past the racks and over to Ghost you began to realise that there was a thrumming noise emanating from the far side of the room. It rumbled and growled and grew harder on your ears the closer you got and as soon as you made your way round the racking you saw the source of it. A big set of metal doors.

Soap joined you from the otherside, clearly finding the rest of the room just as empty as you had. Ghost looked over to Soap then and back at the door, motioning for him to get close.

“Soap, do you have the borescope?”

“Aye, hold on, I’ll sort it.”

Soap reached into his bag and pulled out the long snake of wire and fetched his drill. From there he made a small opening in the door with quick precision and sent the coiled camera through, taking a look at the monitor as he did so. The monitor quickly flashed on and you and Ghost were able to peer round and see a flurry of men running around a mixture of freight and pickup trucks, loading cargo onto them. There were some that were beginning to drive off, halting just as they made it onto the big ramp then ran up the far side of that room.

How on earth had they managed to hide that?

You frowned as you watched on, realising that the last trucks were beginning to get closed up and prepared for driving off, you could hear the echoes of the doors being slammed shut. The men were shouting louder now, driving each other to go, go, go. You watched Ghost out of the corner of your eye, waiting for him to make a decision. All until the final man walked into the centre of the room, he was surrounded by a group of heavily covered up muscle men toting machine guns like they were little more than big boys with pretend sticks in the playground. The man walked in the centre of them with a confident strut - he looked just like he did in the videos.

“Holy fuck, is that Rousseau?” Soap whispered.

Ghost nodded tightly.

“Brothers! We have done well today, the enemy safehouse has been destroyed and the rest of the soldiers will still be trapped in the warehouse trying to route us out. Let us leave and go to our new base, onwards and upwards my friends!”

The enemy safehouse has been destroyed? Price? Laswell? Were they ok?

You widened your eyes, but you didn’t get much time to think about Price and the others.

Rousseau had sped over to one of the trucks and once inside, had set off a cataclysm. The doors to the ramp opened, bathing the basement in startling sunlight and from there the explosions began, a loud series of bangs that shook the room like a hurricane, each one unsettling the walls and floor as they got closer. It felt like a tiger leaping ever closer, ready to land straight onto your belly and tear you open.

What the fuck!

“We need to get out of here!”Ghost roared. “Head for the trucks, we can try to get into the one at the back.

He kicked at the door and luckily it burst open, allowing you all to run forward and into the next room. Because the room was so long, you were still covered by shadow and no one seemed to notice your group’s appearance. No one was shooting at you anyway.

Your throat burned as you ran, your mind was racing, intent on following Ghost as he stuck to the walls, keeping yourselves hidden in the darkness. He was racing out ahead while you and Soap tied with each other, running neck and neck and panting like hounds as you propelled yourselves ahead of the blasts. The room was really shaking now and while the last truck began to pull away and ascend up the ramp, your eyes teared up.

No, no, no. Not like this!

You pumped your legs a little bit harder and Soap did the same, managing to sprint ahead like you were all in a murmuration, moving fluidly and in sync with one another. With that effort made, you all managed to jump onto the last truck, detaching from the wall at the last minute before attaching yourselves to the back. You all grabbed onto what holds that you could, affixing yourselves to the bolts that kept the doors closed and held on for dear life, watching on with horror as you saw the warehouse burning up in the distance, leaving it in a trail of smoke.

It was then you were finally able to hear the crackle of comms and a blended mixture of broken up accented shouts, German, Korean and English. The others were trying to contact you.

Had they made it out ok?

“Gaz, is that you?” Ghost shouted out, trying to adjust his headset while he gripped onto the bolt. “We’re on Rousseau, we’re out of the warehouse. Did your team make it out?”

If you weren’t busy being terrified for everyone’s lives you would have rolled your eyes.

“LT, is that you?” Gaz called out, his voice finally coming through clearly. “Are you all ok?”

Ghost didn’t get a chance to say anything to that, he was quickly cut off.

“Lieutenant, respond!” König snarled, his voice snapping out like an angry wolf.

“We made it out,” Ghost confirmed. “Did you hear what I said? Where are you? We’re following Rousseau, we’re on one of his trucks. His men must’ve been instructed to set this up for him upon capture. They must’ve had a plan to move when they knew we were coming.”

“We made it out, we started heading for the extraction point, but we got cut off by Rousseau’s forces in the woods. He must’ve left men behind to try and stop us from getting out, we got em’ though. We still haven’t heard any word from Price. What direction are you heading in? Should we follow?”

“We got word that they destroyed the safe house,” Soap said. “Price and Laswell might not’ve made it.”

You finally turned and looked up, blinking back at the rush of air as you changed direction and looked at Soap. He looked like a terrified cat that had got itself stuck up a tree. Both of his hands must’ve been white knuckling the bolt from under his gloves - he was holding onto the same one as you, standing over you while you crouched low and hooked your feet into the groove of the bevelled doors. The extra grip was helping your shaking body.

Why couldn't Ghost have just let you and König pair off? You’d have taken jungle warfare over hanging off the back of a speeding truck anyday. It would have avoided the whole stupid argument back at the tunnel too. In that moment, while you held on for dear life, you realised that there was a lot of things that you’d have wished that could’ve been done differently.

“Don’t follow us,” Ghost said, taking back control of the line, “Try to find out if anyone made it to the extraction. You hear that, König? Make sure that we can make it out of this, don’t do anything stupid!”

“Hard to say what’s stupid when your definition seems so different to mine,” König snarked.

“König, don’t be a smartass! Just try and find Price so we can get Rousseau,” you growled.

Ghost tilted his head at you, clearly surprised that you’d been the one to tell him off for that. As much as you were relieved to know he was ok, and as much as you’d like to comfort him, you knew the mission was much bigger than yourselves. Getting everyone out safely and trying to successfully capture Rousseau was the most important thing and you could only do that if you were apart.

The line remained quiet for a second.

“Ok, we’re heading to the extraction again now,” Gaz confirmed. “We’ll let you know when we reach point.”

“Copy, Sergeant.”

You looked up at Ghost and then at Soap, watching as both men struggled with staying stuck to the truck. This wasn’t going to work long term, you could feel your own arms wanting to give out, it wouldn’t be long till you’d all come tumbling off and crashing onto the dirt road. You had to figure out a way to get to a more secure location.

“Ghost, do you think you can hold on to the truck and try to support my weight at the same time?” You asked.

“Why?” he barked.

“If you hold onto me, I can try and climb up the truck and get myself on top,” you explained.

“And then what about us?” Soap growled. “All very well sorting out a nice place for yourself up there.”

“If I move up there, then you can crouch next to Ghost and open the door on the side we’re standing on,” you said, glaring up at him. “That way we can all hold it so it doesn’t swing out and you two can climb in and shut it.”

This wasn’t the time for accusations. You waited for them both to share their thoughts, and jumped when the truck hit a bump. It almost sent you all flying. Soap yelped and hugged into the bolt tighter and Ghost grunted. You fumbled as your feet were displaced and wobbled, your hands slipping off of the bolt and sending you sprawling backwards.

Ghost reached out and grabbed you in the nick of time, just when you thought you were about to be grated parmesan on the side of the pebbled road. You huffed out a breath and grabbed a hold of the bar, swallowing down your pulse as it tried to climb out of your throat.

“Right, get on with it,” Ghost said, “I can only hold you for so long.”

You shook your head and had to remind yourself of the plan. That close call rocked you.

Without any more interruption, you grabbed onto the bolt on Ghost’s side with both hands and swung your legs up, planting them against the wall while Ghost kept his hand flat against your back. As you got higher up, his support dwindled, but from there you were able to reach around the top and kick your legs against the doors. With one last grunt you were able to get yourself fully on top of the truck, but kept yourself belly down on it, ensuring that you wouldn’t be seen.

“Ok, I’m gonna hold onto the door now. Open it when Soap’s in position.”

The other two fumbled around, getting themselves steady. After a few moments of contoroting themselves around one another they were able to open the door, it was heavy and it took everything in you not to go flying out with it even with Ghost holding it from his position too, but you were able to stop it just enough so that Ghost and Soap could climb in as they both took turns to hold the door alongside you.

Once they’d disappeared inside and snapped the door shut, you realised that there was a small fault in your plan when you were left gripping on for dear life. Not to mention how much colder it was on top with all the wind rushing past your face. Then there was also the bugs…

“Nice work, Sneak,” Ghost congratulated, voice coming in quiet over the line. “I’m gonna get soap to drill a hole in the ceiling. Have you got your knife with you?”

“Yeah, why?” you asked, frowning as you slowly worked out where he was going with this.

“That should give you something decent to hold onto.”

“Are you serious? Can’t you guys cut a hole in the ceiling for me?” you huffed.

“Who do you think I am, Qui-Gon fuckin’ Jinn?” Soap retorted, you could hear the drill going in the background. “Must’ve forgotten my lightsaber at home. Beyond blowing the thing off, how am I gonna cut a hole in the roof, sneak?”

“I’m not asking you to melt the whole roof off soap, you must be able to make a small hole with that drill, just make a few drill holes and weaken the metal!” you growled.

“Negative. We need you up there, Sergeant,” Ghost interrupted. “We need someone who can see ahead and tell us when the trucks are stopping or if we leave the forest. If they reach base or they leave us with no cover we need to get ready to jump off and hide.”

You sighed and watched as the drill bit poked its way out behind you, grating through the metal with a sound like grinding teeth. You would need to turn and slide forward a few inches to be able to reach it, but it looked like that was your best way to keep on top of the truck.

Without anymore stalling, you flipped around and watched as it disappeared and appeared a couple times more, forming a ragged little line. That would be enough for your knife to eat through.

You shakily reached behind you and to your knife holster, gripping the handle like a vice in your hands, whatever you did you couldn’t let it fly from your hold. With that in mind you quickly extended your arm and stabbed it through the hole, gritting your teeth as your hand slammed into the metal. That was surely going to bruise,

“Could’ve done with some warning, Sneak,” Soap huffed. “You almost took my finger off.”

“Poor baby, maybe you’d like to swap places,” you retorted. “See how you like holding onto the top of a truck with nothing but your hands.”

“Watch it, or I’ll send that knife flyin’ out,” he barked back.

“Shut up, Soap,” Ghost growled. “Keep the line clear. Sneak, let us know what you see, copy?”

“Copy that, Ghost.”

You hardened your gaze onto the horizon, watching as the trees came waving by and flew into your periphery, and adjusted your position. With both hands firmly wrapped around your knife, you were deadset on keeping your fingers wrapped around it with a snake like constriction. In that moment you were picturing it as Rousseau’s neck, already seeing red as you thought about Price and König and all the shit that you’d been through since chasing after the bastard.

You were going to get him. You were going to make him pay.

If König, Gaz and Horangi didn’t get back to you soon with good news, then you were fully prepared to unleash hell on him. It didn’t matter what Price was going to do when he found out about you and König, it didn’t matter about the rising blood and seething vitriol that would surely come with the revelation. Price was the one that helped shape you into the soldier you were, he was the one that had gotten you back alive from countless missions, he was your reason for marching on in some of your toughest fights. He cared about you and he believed in you - it was why he was so protective in the first place.

If Price was gone then it wouldn’t be long until the killer met the same fate…of course only after suffering for their actions in the meantime.

Next part here

#König #König x reader #könig fanfiction #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare fanfiction #mw2

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