#so he just stands there. everybody else overwhelmed by everything else while he has to ruminates that new thing as well.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 70)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (57) / Alexia Putellas x Character (27) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (13)

Masterlist (other parts here)

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((**2.5k**))

I recommend reading the last 5+ parts first!

((**Sorry for the lack of posting. Life and... procrastination getting in the way. I'll try to post more, starting with smaller chapters. Much love! Jae.**))

Jordan hadn’t realised that she’d instinctively sought the comfort of Leah by grabbing her hand until she felt a soft squeeze. Realising, she dropped Leah’s hand just as quickly as she’d grabbed it and tried to not look at her. It wasn’t too difficult though, as the room in front of them was much more interesting. It resembled the size and structure of a warehouse space, though it was set up for content. There were different areas for interviews, photos, videos, there were different sports brands moving throughout, clothes overflowing racks, and so much more. The pets were great to see –Blu whined from her arms and his head darted around, his eyes overwhelmed and excited not only by the amount of people, but by the pets too. He loved to play, though his stamina was awful. This is one thing she missed most about not having Leah around. Those two were always playing together.

“You’re alright, mate,” Leah calmed as she stroked his head while tucked up against Jordan’s chest with one of her arms. Jordan relished the feel of Leah’s arm brushing up against her chest lightly as she pet him.

“Madness, right?” Beth chuckled excitedly. Of course she was in her comfort zone.

She spotted Viv and joined her across the room.

“Are you just going to keep standing there?” Jen asked in her amused, wondering tone.

Jordan had no idea and so Leah jumped in.

“Where do we even start..?”

Jen pointed across them and to the area set up with tables of food and drink. Standing right in front of it was the person you’d always expect to find near the food. The pair chuckled when they saw her stuffing her mouth. “She’ll sort you out.”

Jordan shook her head and she couldn’t help the smile cross her face as she wandered over to the food table followed closely by Leah.

“Hey, mate.”

Lucy turned around mid-chew. Her eyes lit up as she saw them both. She gulped down her bite and gave them a little hug while she did so, with a pat for Blu. “Hey you two. You came! I really didn’t think you would but YFN knew you would.”

“Of course we would,” Leah laughed.

“What’s happening?” Jordan asked. “You’re usually eating but you look like you’re stress eating at the moment. Feeling guilty?”

Lucy gave a sheepish grin, having been caught. Jordan had known her for so long. “Just a bit-”

Jordan’s expression had her rolling her eyes as she looked over towards YFN. “-a lot. I didn’t expect it to become what it has. I just wanted to distract her so I could organise her birthday next week.”

Lucy’s expression was obvious regret as she watched her. Jordan followed her eyes to where YFN was. She was sitting at a table with piles of paperwork and her laptop in front of her. Sitting next to her was Alex Scott, though YFN was talking to some Lumos employees who nodded and left. She was obviously organising everything and Jordan always loved to watch her in boss mode. She seemed very tired, though, but that didn’t stop the smile lighting her face. She looked over at the trio and her face lit up from its weariness. She waved at the group as her attention was quickly taken up again by someone else.

“Are you hiding?” Leah asked.

Lucy shook her head and grabbed the plates of food she had on the table in front of her.

“Just stress eating,” Jordan laughed as the trio wandered over to join the table.

“I didn’t want… this,” Lucy grunted. “It just got so out of hand. Everybody jumped on board like the tavern dinner.”

“Have you even spoken to anyone about the birthday plans yet?” Leah murmured as they got closer.

“Only a few. I was hoping you two would distract her so I’d have a better chance to. I’ve been hovering because I feel like someone’s going to run into her. Now be quiet about it… oh and don’t mention Ridley.”

The pair didn’t have a chance to question that before they reached the table and instead shared a look. They each greeted the pair at the table and unsurprisingly, Leah fell straight into conversation with Alex from her seat next to Jordan. The pair were close, though never in a way beyond friendship. Truth be told, she enjoyed seeing Leah interacting with her friend.

“I missed you,” YFN groaned into her as they hugged and then acknowledged Blu. “Hi little man. I missed you too.”

“I missed you more,” Jordan admitted as she held her for longer than she expected. She really did miss her friend. YFN held her until Jordan released first with tears in her eyes that she tried to cover.

“Got a bit carried away, did we?” YFN asked as Lucy put the obscene amount of food down in front of her with a kiss to the temple.

“I know you like options… think of it as tapas, little one.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile that only Lucy brought out of her. “That too, but I was talking about you hoovering. I saw you eating your feelings, Luce. Or rather… inhaling them.”

Jordan chuckled as she placed Blu down on the chair next to her and watched as Lucy wrapped an arm around YFN, holding her softly. It seemed Lucy was still very much feeling guilty and protective of her injuries, and Jordan felt a pang of empathy in her chest. She was still so broken, and she could see her wince at each wrong movement, though she did try to hide it. For Lucy’s sake, she imagined.

“Do you need somewhere to stay tonight?”

Jordan felt Leah shift next to her, having heard the question, and somehow, she knew she was listening to her response. Jordan wasn’t sure what brought out the sudden pride in her as she responded.

“Blu and I are actually staying with Leah tonight.” She said, smiling at Leah who paused her sentence just to smile back and share a moment. Enough was enough. Jordan wanted her. She knew that. And although unexpected, tonight she wanted to show Leah just how much she still cared for her. She felt ready.

Jordan turned back to the couple in front of her. Lucy nodded, her eyes flickering between the two. Though YFN was smiling kindly and… knowingly. Like she already knew.

YFN POV

“Sounds perfect.” Silence hung for a second and as she usually did, YFN broke it to keep the conversation flowing. “Did anyone explain to you two what’s happening here?”

“Nope.”

“Okay so Lucy sort of took the opportunity to ask around to get some people interested in meeting up today and introducing them to our company but it seems things have gotten a little out of hand…” Lucy looked apologetic as YFN’s eyes flickered around the room, making sure everything was running smooth. “So everyone is getting involved as much or as little as they like. Before you do anything, there’s our legal team over there dealing with legality when it comes to us posting content et cetera. Then there’s the photography over there… interviews there… tik tok content there… Nike have set up there… Adidas there… there’s several clothing or sports brands set up to promote themselves and find new brand ambassadors but they’re under strict instructions to not approach anyone, I want only the interested footballers to approach them instead.” She looked over to the booths set up. “Though they have been pretty sneaky with their little signs…” she chuckled as she watched one of the sports drink brands holding up a board saying ‘JOIN THE DARK SIDE LJ’ as Lauren laughed from afar. “Food and drink over there… let the lads there know if you want anything and they’ll get it. Lots of hungry women here… and I’ll be doing the pet interviews over here starting again soon, just having a little break for now. Oh and the podcast.”

“So you are starting the podcast?” Leah asked.

“I think it’ll be a great weekly thing to do to keep up with current events and have guest speakers.”

“Thanks for throwin’ my name out there,” Alex grinned at Leah. “I think it’s great. We’ve been chattin’ about it a lot and I think YFN, Jill and I are going to each bring something different to it. We were going to start today if Jill can get here.”

“She’s coming from Manchester?”

“Have you looked around? People are comin’ from everywhere. It’s crazy.” They shared a laugh at that as they couldn’t help but look around the packed room again.

“How did you even manage all of this?” Leah asked.

“Well we spoke to a few of the girls who were over last night-”

“-you mean the whole Arsenal team?”

“Basically. And they messaged around and then it sort of became this. To be honest, I think it was just perfect timing being everyone’s day off and most of the girls didn’t arrive until just before you two. Everyone was sleeping in and word was spreading. I’ve just been trying to stop the bleeding all morning. More food. More table. Backdrops. Cameras. Film equipment. Luckily our staff is so properly vetted – they’ve all jumped in feet first. I was worried we’d be drowning for a second, but everything’s going well…”

“You’re doing an amazing job…” Lucy murmured to her. Her heart fluttered as she leant into her a little more. She knew she’d be sleeping well tonight.

“Thanks, Luce. Thank you for getting everyone together.”

She was saying that for Lucy to know that she did appreciate her effort, and to try and take some of that guilt away of course.

“I’ll give you more notice next time…” She joked half-heartedly.

“I’d very much appreciate that,” she laughed in response as her phone vibrated. She looked down, wondering if it was Joe again, excited with her updates. But it wasn’t. Her eyes widened as she answered.

“Hey… did you get my messages?”

“Sí,” Alexia responded almost normally. “I would like to come.”

YFN had been trying to get in contact with her all morning and had invited her to their little open day of course, thinking it might be a welcome distraction. She never thought she’d say yes, though.

“Okay… um…” She turned to Lucy who took her key from her pocket and gestured to the phone, knowing exactly what she was going to ask. Her Lucy. It was these little things that made her adore her so much. “Okay, Lucy is on her way to get you. She’ll be there soon!”

“Okay. Can I bring Chiquito?”

YFN hesitated. Ridley adored Chiquito more than anything. He was a mini Ridley. Her little man. She’d left him with Alexia which confirmed what YFN already knew. Ridley was completely and utterly in love with her. “Uh… yes of course you can bring Chiquito. Everyone has brought their pets actually. I’ll be doing pet and player interviews if you’d like to but we’ll discuss it when you get here.”

She shared a look with Lucy whose thinking lines appeared on her forehead at the mention of Chiquito.

“See you soon, Blau.”

“See you Ale.”

She hung up and Lucy tilted her head in question.

“She sounds… surprisingly okay,” YFN murmured.

Lucy frowned. So did she. They both knew that was bad. Alexia had shut down her emotions which meant one thing… she would break.

Lucy sighed and leant forwards, her lips finding YFN’s, her hand cradling her cheek. The softest of kisses.

“I’ll be back soon, little one,” she said as she kissed her forehead and stood. “You all look after her, please. She’s fragile and refuses to believe it sometimes.”

YFN managed to slap her hip as she walked away, and Lucy was unable to stop herself from looking over her shoulder at her as she was leaving. She smiled when she caught her eye. It should be illegal to look that good, YFN thought.

Her attention was drawn back to the table at the eyes that were avoiding her. She sighed. “Lucy said not to mention Ridley, right?”

Their faces answered the question.

“Of course she did. That woman… hm. Well, because Alexia is coming, I feel like you all need to know what’s happening so we can all help the situation because I can’t exactly move quickly and people are bound to harass Alexia because it’s… well… Alexia.”

“Did something happen with them finally?” Alex asked.

“You know Ridley?” Leah asked Alex.

“The hot bisexual? Impossible to not when everyone is talking about her. You know how the girls are when a hot new single women enters our world,” she laughed. “And I sort of put two and two together with those photos online of you all at lunch the other day. They looked very friendly.”

“At lunch?!” Jordan asked.

“I handled it…” YFN murmured. “They took them down but a few people know. Anyways… please keep it to yourselves, just take this information and try to make Alexia feel comfortable…”

“They finally did it then?” Leah asked.

“I’m… not sure. Ridley is gone. That’s all.”

“Gone?”

“Gone. There’s a good chance you won’t see her again. She… does this. She doesn’t get close to people. She stopped by last night and said goodbye about 3am. I’ve been awake ever since. Alexia is still in her apartment with Chiquito.”

They didn’t say anything.

“So be kind to Alexia please and don’t mention it… and try to steer conversations away from relationships. They nodded, understanding and already empathising. She saw Jordan look at Leah with longing and then hiding her expression.

They spoke for a little longer, and others came over to the table to chat and introduce their dogs. Eventually, her phone started buzzing again.

“Lucy’s calling…” she murmured, wonderingly. She answered the call.

“Love, Alexia has someone coming from Spain and they’ll be there soon-”

“-i’m sorry,” Alexia cut off, presumably from the passenger seat of the car. “I didn’t tell her to come. I didn’t know she would come-”

“-hey, that’s okay!” YFN responded with a laugh. She wanted Alexia to be comfortable and give her everything she needed right now. It was a positive sign that someone had come to be with Alexia when she needed it. It meant she’d been talking and opening up. “The more the merrier, and more won’t hurt looking around at this place already.”

“You don’t understand. Little one…” Lucy’s voice faded out as YFN realised why they were so nonchalant about the situation. Across the far side of the room, one of the Lumos workers entered, gesturing the new guest inside the content warehouse.

She’d be lying if she didn’t say that her heart skipped a beat at the little figure of Ona Batlle entering the room.

#woso #woso community #womens football #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso soccer #engwnt #lionesses #lucy bronze #woso x reader #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader #alexia putellas #jordan nobbs #leah williamson #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #fc barça #ona batlle

[artfulacrostic]

had my second high definition viewing of atsv in the theater today and here are my favorite details that i missed due to being overwhelmed on my first viewing:

LONG AF POST:

-gwen is literally wearing a rainbow shaped trans pride pin on her jacket with her prom outfit. she's soooo so canon trans <3

-captain stacy HAS A TRANS FLAG PATCH ON HIS POLICE UNIFORM JACKET?????? when i'm telling u my eyes popped out of my head 😳 SHES SO CANON TRANS!!!

-poster outside miles's guidance counselor's office reads: "visions sciences: telling you your story".

-parallel of miles's and gwen's dad kicking things out of general exasperation towards the beginning and end of the movie respectively

-when miles as spidey is talking to his dad and giving him advice (for himself) there's a reference to miles possibly reading vonnegut? (maybe in class??) "if this isn't nice what is" is a collection of kurt vonnegut's commencement speeches. (literally subtitled "advice to the young". the writers were extremely clever for this reference. if not reading it in class, miles has been searching up life advice on his own)

-i barely caught this but i'm PRETTY sure that in miles' room near his door there's a MICHELLE OBAMA presidential race sticker??? was president obama in the earth-1610 dimension michelle obama?? iconic if so

-fedex on earth-1610 is REDEX

-gayatri seems like they took elements of both gwen (police dad) and mj (young model) for her background as i believe i caught her visible on a "zomato" ad billboard (which appears to be the earth-50101 version of ubereats)

-i spent all of hobie's scenes trying to pick up the details of his many pins; but the only one that i could really make out with the quick shot changes besides the union jack pin was the one right above it, which is a three-leaf clover. i wondered if maybe it had some kind of significance to maybe irish independence or smth but i couldn't find anything online that backed that up so not sure what it means. if u know pls drop it in the replies.

-hobie's boots are definitely NOT ladder laced. i KNOW there is concept art and poster art of him with ladder laces but in the actual movie they are 100% crossed. also unlike the poster art, both boots have blue laces, not one blue, one yellow/orange. i wanted to be all on board the ladder lace code train but i'm pretty sure they just made his laces blue so that they could contrast against the red boots and be spidey colors. they probably abandoned the ladder lace part of the visual when someone realized what blue ladder laces meant in lace code. "HAS hobie killed a cop," you ask? given his comic backstory i'd say the odds are HIGH. but i would bet they didn't want people to think that since he's gone through canon event asm-90 ("a police captain close to spider-man is killed by falling rubble during a battle with a nemesis") that there's any possibility THAT was the cop he killed and he's proud of it (since it's supposed to be all abt character development from the ✨trauma✨ of the event)

-during the whole "intervention" scene, while all the other spider-people are facing directly in towards miles and miguel from wherever they are standing in the circle, hobie is the only one whose back is turned. he watches most of the scene over his shoulder. also, during a couple shots facing miles before the entire society of spiders show up, hobie is separated in the shot from all the other main spiders (Peter B, Gwen, Jess, etc) BY MILES. he is visible over one shoulder and everybody else is visible over the other. these two details are great signals of hobie having already MORALLY turned his back on miguel's authoritarianism, as well as giving a nice inverted "devil/angel on the shoulders" nod.

-peter b asks miguel to take a picture of him and mayday since it's her first chase; miguel brushes him off but mayday understands and uses her webshooter to click the camera button on peter b's phone and take a selfie without him noticing 😂😂😂 shes everything to me

-when miguel is pinning miles to the train, after gwen and peter b have caught up, there is a very fast moment when miles calls for help ("PETER!!") and peter doesn't reply to him, but calls out to miguel to calm down (smth like that) instead 🥲 peter for the love of god step up your mentor game and look out for this kid i can't handle it anymore

-when gwen takes the watch hobie made her out of the box, the screen is briefly visible and reads "project botleg". bootleg -> bot -> "botleg"; I SEE YOU HOBIE. people think he's so cool (and he is!!) but he's also just as much of a dork as all the other spiders. what a goofball

-in miles-42's room, a speed bag/speed ball/maize ball is attached to his wall near the door. there are other substantial differences to their rooms, but i think this is clearly a reference to uncle aaron-42's large presence in miles-42's life, given the association from both movies of aaron with the punching bag and miles getting guidance from him/looking to him for support.

-in addition to all the miles-1610 vs miles-42 prowler vs spidey reflection imagery in the end credits, guess who else has several moments of flashing from spider-man colors (red and black at least) to prowler colors (purple and green)?? miguel, that's who. miguel and miles-42/uncle aaron-42 team-up in beyond the spiderverse? or just an extra parallel for the antagonists sharing goals/possibly methods?

OKAY ANYWAY if ppl want i can try and dig up images of some of these but i figured that would make this post long af so that's all for now folks!! go see across the spider verse again and marvel at how much more fine detail you find like me 🕸🕸🕸

#across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #atsv #miles morales #gwen stacy #miguel o'hara #hobie brown #peter b parker #mayday parker #captain stacy #jefferson morales #gayatri singh #aaron davis #the prowler #earth 1610 #earth 42 #earth 50101 #trans gwen stacy #this movie is driving me fucking NUTS bro #they are so so so insane for all of this #i can't wait for it to come out on dvd and blu-ray so i can pause it and pick through it more slowly #i'm sure there are SO MANY more things no one has picked up yet #also i tried to only include stuff in this list that i haven't really seen other people talk about #or that i noticed additional details to if i had heard someone reference it #r speaks #r tags

[xhopelesslyromanticx]

Just an Affair Part 2 - Charles Leclerc x Reader

Part 1

Literally overwhelmed with requests asking for a Part 2. So here you go. Be prepared for some drama.

Masterlist

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, cheating, toxic behavior, cursing

summary: Charles and you have made a promise to stay away from one another. But Charles not being able to stop thinking about you and you feeling stuck in your marriage, seem to make things a little more complicated than expected.

The heat on the pavement under the sun was almost unbareable. Charles stood there, a towel wrapped around his neck as sweat was dripping down his forehead. His best friend Pierre standing next to him as they watched their opponents give interviews while doing press in Barcelona. The monégasque guy took a sip of his water, scared he might actually just pass out. Qualifying was extremely tiring and even worse with the heat they had faced today. 

„You don‘t look happy for someone who has just gotten pole.“ the french guy stated, staring at his friend through his reflective glasses as they leaned against some wall, that was used as a backdrop for tv interviews. Charles kicked some gravel on the ground, crossing his arms, he hadn’t yet told Pierre what had been lingering on his mind this whole day. And it was probably better not to. He was scared to be judged or even worse that by Pierre uncontrollable urge to gossip, the thing might get out. Everybody knows how that can spiral out of control.

Pierre bit the inside of his mouth, studying Charles silence. He wanted his best friend to trust him, to open up to him, and he knew he was hiding something „Come on Charles. Im your best friend-"

Pierre was interrupted by a deep sigh coming from Charles. He of course couldn’t ever understand the guys frustration and the monégasque guy would have never expected him to do so. But how was he supposed to actually tell him the truth when it was eating him up from the inside? That he had laid eyes on a woman one night, knowing she was married. Proceeded to pursue her, knowing she was married. Made love to her, knowing she was married and then was taken aback that it seemingly had meant nothing to her. That she didn’t even hesitate or defend him in front of her husband, who he had to see all the time.

Lewis cold stares of course didn’t go unnoticed to Charles. But he had followed the British guy's orders and never talked to you again which was made easier by the fact that you had seemingly disappeared from the surface of the world the past two weeks. Charles knew he shouldn’t worry about dou, Lewis had made it clear he‘d kill him for doing anything like it. But he would lie if he said that your sudden vanishing had not only worried your fans but also him. Having normally been quite active on social media, there had been nothing but dead silence from you. Even when Lewis was seemingly living his life, posting about still being in the states and working out and stuff. 

And then that day in Barcelona changed everything again. And god, it felt unfair to the Ferrari driver. Just when he was about to finally forget everything that happened and the humiliation and embarassment, you were suddenly there again. When he saw you lean against the entrance of the Mercedes hospitality, wearing a short white dress as your hair flowed in the slight wind. Your sunglasses effortlessly sitting on top of your head as you looked at the floor with your arms crossed, Charles couldn’t help but stare at you, not even making the effort to see if Lewis was around. He just felt a huge relief wash over him. You were alive and you were okay. Nothing else mattered in that moment. 

You were lost in your own world, a thousand thoughts running through your mind as you awaited outside the Mercedes hospitality. So badly wanting to not have to do this. But it was time. It was then when you looked up an just about ten meters away from you, leaning against the railing as people passed him stood the young brown haired guy who had been lingering on your mind non stop. The look on his face almost one of relief with a pinch of sadness, breaking your heart. You sighed, shooting him a weak smile as you pressed your lips together. You could see Charles look suddenly change as he turned around to face the track. You weren’t confused for long, because next thing you knew Lewis stood next to you.

„Y/n.“ your husbands voice appeared next to you as you snapped out your daydreaming. Trying to brush off the fact that you had just been staring at Charles you looked up at him, your lips slighly trembling. Lewis smiled a little, scrunching his nose as he didn’t understand your weird behavior at all „Everything alright baby?“

You cleared your throat frantically nodding. Lewis took a step closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulled you in close to him. Cupping you cheek with his free hand as he tried to hold eye contact with you before whispering „We’re fine. Right baby?“

„Yes. of course we’re fine Lewis.“ you smiled, biting your lips deciding you’d have to reassure him some way. Placing your lips on his shortly, not even giving him enough time to really kiss you back. But it was enough to calm your husbands nerves as his demenor softened and he seemed to relax. Lewis and you had spent the past two weeks working things out, or so you called it. In reality Lewis told you he couldn’t stand the sight of you which resulted in you leaving the states eralier than planned. With you in Europe and him still in New York, you agreed to take some time to think about things. 

When you had gotten the call from your husband, saying he had thought about it and knew what he wanted you immedately were relieved. Thinking he must be on the same page as you, you two met up in Barcelona two days earlier. But you soon realized, from the moment he greeted you by smashing his lips on yours and eagerly running his hands over your body, that he was not at all where you were. You had been thinking too; things were just too broken in your opinion. They couldn’t be mend. But of course you couldn’t tell that to your husband who was set on making things right. 

„I might have done something stupid Pierre.“ Charles mumbled, shaking his head as he remembered what had happened this morning. Seeing you with Lewis like that made Charles feel incredibly naive. He sort of resented you for doing this to him. After all, it always takes two. He just wanted to tell him how fucked up it was for you to leave him like that. He wanted to let out his anger and frustration, seeing you pretend like nothing happened.

„What?“ Pierre now furrowed his eyebrows, turning slightly towards the Ferrari Driver so no one would eavesdrop on them. Seeing Charles with his head hanging low, he nudged his friends shoulder, knowing something was definitely not right. Charles was not normally this down, especially not when racing. It was the thing the guy loved doing the most and even more when he was doing well, which he clearly had. So the french guy couldn’t help but feel bad, whatever Charles had done, it was clearly eating him up from the inside „What happened Charles?“

„I slept with someones wife.“ 

Pierre raised his eyebrows, surprised by the blunt confession as Charles clenched his jaw, shaking his head before he looked around the busy paddock. Seeing Lewis on the other end, lean against a wall as he talked to some woman. Pierres eyes followed the monégasques one, utterly confused on what had just happened. The British guy obviously noticed the stares on him as he looked straight back at Charles, a cold look on his face. It was then that Pierre realized what exactly was so bad about this.

„Wait.“ he gasped, remembering the rumor he had heard the week before. Apparently, Lewis Hamiltons wife had been seen with another driver in Miami. Pierre had heard this from his own teammate, who guaranteed him that it was a 100% accurate. The french guy knew Y/n only from seeing her, never having dared to approach the woman as Hamilton could be quite extremely possessive. Or so people told him. So when he heard the rumors, he made sure to stay even further away and when he had told Charles about it, the guy did react kind of odd; telling Pierre that he thought it was stupid that people talked about stuff they had no proof of. Pierre had brushed it off but this now left him speechless „You did not actually sleep with Hamilton's wife did you?“

„Shh..“ Charles frantically shushed Pierre, taking his eyes off the seven time world champion that was still throwing daggers at him. And the guilty look on Charles face told Pierre everything he needed to know as he gasped. 

„Holy shit Charles!“

Lewis sat on the hotel bed, his head resting against the headboard as he listened to you blow dry your hair in the bathroom. His eyes glued on the tv, watching some stupid show to wind down. He knew he had to get to bed early as the next day was race day and he had to get his sleep. He watched you walk in the room in nothing but your red lace underwear, furrowed his brows as you bent over your suitcase, seemingly looking for something to wear before picking out what looked like a short red dress. 

„Really into reds are we?“ he asked, watching you slip into the way too revealing dress in his opinion. You turned around, a confused look on your face. What was he even getting at? Your husband sitting there with his arms crossed as he looked you up and down critically. This was typical Lewis, always passive aggressive. Never just telling you what the problem was, leaving you guessing.

„What?“ you shrugged your shoulders, acting nonchalant as you ran your hand through your hair that was still not completely dry. Crossing your arms, sending Lewis a challenging look „You don’t like it?“

Lewis bit his lip, chuckling a little as he knew you were just covering your insecurity with your cold exterior. It was your motto to fake it till you make it but he had seen it happen enough times now. He looked at your exposed legs, before licking his lips „No, I mean I like it.“

„Then what’s the problem?“ you raised your eyebrows, taking a deep breath. If he had a problem with you going out he should have just said it. You would have probably considered even staying back at the hotel but you were sick of him not just telling you what he felt.

„Who are you going out with again?“ Lewis asked, causing you to sigh. You had told him a million times, it just seemed like he didn’t believe you. 

„I’m going with Carmen, George's girlfriend remember?“ you stated, looking him straight into the eyes „You can call him and ask if-“

„No. I believe you.“ Lewis got up from the bed walking over to you as he pressed a soft kiss onto your lips. You were taken a back a little but gave in for a short while as your husband wrapped his arms around you. Lewis pulled you into him before disconnecting your lips looking into your eyes „Just don’t wear red alright?“

Lewis words were still echoing through your ears when you waited for the elevator in the hallway of the hotel Carmen and George stayed at. You had dropped off Carmen there after you had spent the night out in the city, wanting her to get home safely as she had drank quite a bit. Carmen was very nice and you actually enjoyed spending time with her. Until Lewis had sent you a million texts asking where you were and if he should pick you up. 

It left you feeling confused, as you had clearly discussed you'd be home at midnight. Deciding you’d just text him you were gonna call a taxi and he should go to sleep you made your way back to the lobby. Your eyes glued to your phone as the doors to the elevator finally opened. Not looking up once you got in, the doors closing behind you. It was when someone cleared their throat that you looked up from your phone only to be met with the face of a certain brown haired guy.

„Charles.“ you whispered, seeing him in only in his bathrobe and wearing swimming trunks under neath. Your heart fluttering, feeling him so close to you after having literally thought about him day and night. The look on his face, causing your heart to ache as Charles put on a weak smile. You wanted to scream, feeling like you wanted to tell him all these thing but knowing you wouldn't even have enough time to do so. The sound of the elevator going down and with every second getting closer to the floor you had to get out at, causing you to sweat as you looked up at the monégasque guy and just asked „What are you doing?“

Charles felt taken aback, feeling like there would have been better things to say. But from the look on your face he could understand that you were probably just overwhelmed. He pressed his lips together, resisting the urge to check you out as he watched you nervously throw your hair over the shoulder „I’m going to the pool.“

As easy as that, the monégasque guy thought. He smiled a little trying to lighten the mood, which resulted in you chuckling a little „At this time?“

Charles couldn’t help but love the sound of it. God, what was he doing? He should remember Pierres words and stay away from you. The french guy had tried to talk some sense into his friend after finding out what had happened but Charles just couldn’t resist. Maybe that’s why he said what he said next „Yes, you wanna join?“

God, he wanted to slap him self across the face. What was he doing? The look on your face made his stomach twist and his face probably turn as red as a tomato. How stupid of him to suggest something like that. After all he had clearly been ordered to stay away from you by both you and your husband.But your next words surprised not only the Ferrari driver but also you „Sure.“

The pool area was completely emptied out as you quietly followed behind Charles, looking around as the blue light coming from the pool lit up the whole room. Charles stopped at some pool chair, throwing his phone and keycard onto it before taking off his bathrobe. You couldn’t help but check him out as he turned around. With wide eyes your eyes met his again; busted.

Charles smirked, understanding what had just happened, having to resist winking at you. Something that came incredibly natural to the guy. Seeing you blush was sort of endearing to him as he scratched the back of his neck, chuckling „So are you coming?“

„Yes. Ehm.“ you thought about how weird it was that you would have to actually get undressed in front of him. You didn’t have a bikini so you would obviously have to go in your underwear but Charles just staring at you with his arms crossed didn’t help make you less uncomfortable. You tried to give him a indicating look but the guy just raised his eyebrows clueless, causing you to sigh „Can you like... not look?“

„Alright.“ Charles couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing how nervous you were. He turned around holding his hands up. You quickly started undressing yourself, first your heels before taking off the black dress you had put on after Lewis pledge, revealing your red underwear „It’s nothing I haven’t seen before though.“

You rolled your eyes, giggling a little as you put your dress on the pool chair next to you. along with your shoes and bag. Standing there with your arms crossed, in nothing but your underwear, you thought about how mad Lewis would be right now. You had promised him to stay away from Charles but somehow you always found yourself back in the Ferrari Drivers presence. It was so easy being with Charles, refreshingly effortless. Even if it just meant going swimming „You can turn around now.“

Charles smirked as he turned around and he was not diasscapointed. He looked you up and down, flashbacks of what he had already done to your body washing over him. How perfect you were, it was a mystery to him. Your red underwear also caught his attention as he chuckled „A real Ferrari fan I see.“ 

You chuckled, shaking your head before looking at the pool and whispering „Let’s just do what we came here to do. No stupid comments alright?“

With that you strutted to the pool, feeling Charles watch your every move, close behind you. As you set your foot into the water surprised the water wasn’t actually that cold. When you walked down the stairs, holding onto the railing, water coming up further with each step. As it reached your stomach you stopped, trying to adjust to the sensation on the sensitive skin. 

That’s when you could feel Charles behind you dangerously close, his skin brushing up against yours as you remembered just how wrong this was. You had promised Lewis for gods sake. Why didn’t you even hesitate?

Charles put his hand on your lower back, feeling you had tensed up. He knew what was going through your mind or should he say who. He understood, this wasn’t as black and white for you as it was for him. But he hadn’t forced you to come down here, it was your own choice that you had made so easily without a second doubt. If you went even this far, it meant more than you would probably admit to yourself. The monégasque guys fingers felt like fire on your skin as you could hear him whisper „Everything alright mon amour?“

The sound of the familiar words were enough for you to let yourself fall into the fresh water, trying to wash off, the feeling in your stomach. Charles watching you swim away, a smirk on his face before he let himself go as well. The water splashing around him, while he followed you. He watched you swim into the middle of the pool, where you couldn’t stand anymore, as you turned around to look at him only a few meters away from you. Some drops of water already covering your face. A smile forming on his lips as he looked you straight in the eyes. You blushed, having always thought his smile was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. In attempt to cover up your perplexity you slowly stopped moving which resulted into you sinking under water. 

Hoping the silence under water would talk some sense into you. But it didn’t because when you came up for air, no longer being able to hold your breath Charles was right there. His face dangerously close to yours as you wiped water out your eyes, gasping for air. Charles eyes resting on your parted lips as he took a sharp breath in before looking into your eyes again. It seemed like the young confident guy had turned insecure, normally he wouldn’t have even hesitated to kiss someone in this situation. But you brought out the worst in him and he hated you so much for it. Only what was this hate, if not an equal to love? He shook his head before whispering „I won’t do it.“

You swallowed, cursing internally, knowing exactly what Charles wanted. He wanted you to show him that you wanted this, so you couldn’t blame him. And you understood, you hadn’t treated him very well. But this was all just so goddamn hard. You wanted to get to know Charles you really did but that meant leaving Lewis. And when you’re together with someone for so long, that of course isn’t a decision to make over night. 

„Charles.“ you whispered apologetically, a heavy silence lingering in the room. The sound of the pool, suddenly becoming white noise as it seemed like it was just the two of you. Charles sighed, looking gutted to say the least. It was probably that look on his face that made you do what you did next. Your mind seemingly going blank as you wrapped your arms around Charles neck and eagerly smashed your wet lips on his. He was taking aback for a second but he soon gave in, wrapping on arm around you as the other held him afloat. The kiss was rough an somehow sloppy, both too passionate and filled with adrenaline to think straight.

Tugging on his still relatively dry hair, you moaned into the kiss. it drove Charled crazy as he started attacking your neck with kisses. Making sure he was slowly guiding you towards the edge of the pool where he could have a better hold of you. Finally arriving there, both panting messes, he trapped you between him and the wall continuously stimulating the sensitive skin just above collar bone. Probably leaving marks which you’d have to hide later. Water overflowing over the edge of the pool with each of his movements as Charles hand travelled down your body underwater before grabbing your butt as your own arms wrapped around his back. Throwing your head to the side allowing the monégasque guy better access as he chuckled before pulling away. You let out a frustrated sigh before opening your eyes and looking at the guy who had a mischievous smirk on his rosy lips „So needy are we?“

„Charles.“ you groaned, hating when he teased you. Charles took that as his clue to go a step further as he placed his hand your lower stomach before slowly travelling further down all the while keeping eyecontact. As his finger brushed over your sensitive spot, you couldn’t take it any longer wrapping your leg around him in hopes he'd apply more pressure. But Charles just chuckled again. as he saw you bite your lips and felt your fingers dig into his back. 

He pressed down on your clit with two of his fingers before whispering „You know we have a rule mon amour.“

You rolled your eyes knowing what he was talking about as he could feel the cold material of it press in his skin. Letting go of your grasp on him you brought your hand in between you before sliding off your wedding band in an annoyed manner. Holding it up before placing it on the floor behind you all the while Charles smile grew into a satisfied one. Looking at him, you tried to resist your own urge to smile „Happy?“

„Happy.“ Charles spoke and without waisting another second he buried two of his fingers inside you. Catching you by surprise as you held on to his shoulder, taking a sharp breath in. Charles moved your underwear aside allowing him to move in an out of you more freely as you pulled him closer to you, reconnecting your lips was long overdue. The sensations going through your body were crazy, having craved feeling like this again for as long as you can remember.

„Charles.“ you squirmed a little, feeling him add a third finger as he pushed them inside you. Curling them up a little so he could hit just all the right places. It made you a panting mess. His pace getting faster as you felt the knot in your stomach grow. The tingling sensation causing your heartrate to raise while your moans got louder with each of his movements. Your lips still connected as his tongue roamed your mouth, the water around you feeling ice cold against your warmed up skin. As Charles felt your high was approaching more and more it turned him own even more his hard erection pressing against your bare leg. He pulled away from you seeing you with your head thrown back and squirming around his fingers as moans left your puffy lips.

„No.“ the monégasque guy disobeyed, abruptly stopping his movements. It took you a second to realize before you felt him pull out of you. Looking at him offended, he raised his eyebrows before chuckling „You really thought I was gonna let you cum without me? Mon amour, you know better by now.“

You gasped a little slapping his chest as you caught your breath again „What the hell Charles!“

Charles laughed, placing a soft kiss on your lips his hands now pulling down your panties just a little further. You helped him by squirming around a little, until they were finally off. Charles sliding them off your leg that was wrapped around his torso as he held them up with a smirk before joking „Talk about wet panties.“

You rolled your eyes, annoyed how even the most stupid things somehow sounded charming when he said it. Maybe it was the accent or the stupid dimples but you had never seen a more charismatic guy in your life. Though you were done with his bullshit now, eagerly pulling down his swimming trunks as his erection pressed against your leg. Seeing he was already rock hard you didnt need much foreplay, guiding his cock towards your entrance. Charles watching you do so with a clenched jaw. He loved when you got dominant, it was the reason he had gotten with you the very first night.

But this was still his game. As you placed him at your entrance he didn’t hesitate and pushed inside you without a warning causing you to yelp a little which gained another chuckle from him. His hand grabbing your chin as he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, not moving inside you at all „I‘m the one that’s making the rules alright mon amour?“ 

You nodded, seeing his stern expression. Charles looked like he wasn’t satisfied with that as he whispered „I wanna hear words.“

You swallowed, taken aback by his sudden change of demeanor but also finding it to be incredibly thrilling „You make the rules.“

Charles smiled, seemingly proud of himself ad he caressed your cheek. Even when taking the upper lead the guy still wanted to make sure you were comfortable as he started moving inside you a little. Pulling in and out in slow movements as he placed a soft kiss against your lips before mumbling „This is okay right? Just tell me when it’s too much mon amour okay?“

You giggled at his concern, shaking your head as you felt him move awfully slowly „It’s fine Charles. It’s perfect.“

Charles looked relieved and he also took that as his cue to start moving in and out you faster, picking up his pace as you reconnected your lips. Everytime he hit that spot inside you sending frictions through your body as your nails started digging into the skin of his chest. It was everything, the way he smelled, the feeling of his smooth skin, the sounds he made and the way he touched you. It was everything to you. Wishing you could capture this moment and feel like this forever. Was this making love? You had heard about it but it had never felt like this. It sounded cheesy but it was in all honesty the truth. With Lewis it wasn’t bad, it was just sex. This, this was different. 

Charles movements started becoming sloppier as the water around you splashed around like crazy. Feeling the back of the pool against your skin as he thrusted in and out of you. His groans becoming louder as your moaning was already out of control. It only took Charles a couple more pushes before you could feel his cock twitch inside you. As he came inside you, still moving slightly and both riding of your high while panting for air. Opening your eyes to look at the guy in front of you, his face slightly wet from the water and his hair sticking out in every direction. His post sex look was just something else.

„That was-" Charles stuttered, opening his eyes all the while still inside you as you smirked. He chuckled slightly before placing one last soft kiss on your lips „You’re incredible mon amour.“

Lewis didn’t even say anything when he heard you get home at two in the morning. Maybe it was because he was half asleep. You tiptoed out the bathroom, having just brushed your teeth and taken off your still soaking wet underwear before putting on a shirt he had left out for you. Lewis always left out a shirt for you to sleep in. It made your stomach twist with guilt seeing it was a fresh one and it hadn’t been there when you left. Too tired for anything else as you got under the sheets next to your husband. You were surprised when you heard him turn around and scooch closer to you before wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his body. His breathing slow as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, causing your body too stiffen.

„Baby… why is your hair wet?“

The next morning was a whirlwind to say the least. While Lewis had seemingly forgotten about your wet hair and how it was unexplainable he had seen something else that morning that rang his alarm bells. You two got up, planning to get breakfast before heading off to the paddock as it was race day in Barcelona. While you put on your makeup, Lewis brushed his teeth next to you, watching you through the mirror. His eyes fell onto something or better something missing as he furrowed his eyebrows.

You didn’t even catch it at first, too focused on getting on the perfect eyeliner as you could only think about Charles. Your heart fluttered, thinking you were gonna see him again today, already missing his touches. He had even texted you this morning, saying he couldn’t stop thinking about you and he had to see you. It felt good knowing he felt the same as you did. That's when you finally caught wind off your husband, looking at you with furrowed brows through the mirror before spitting out his toothpaste.

What?“ you asked, looking at him confused but also kind of afraid of what was wrong now. You looked yourself up and down before looking at your husband, who was wiping his mouth with a towel rather aggressively. Yoh immediately knew that something had just switched in him.

„Where’s your ring?“he hissed, throwing his towel in the corner of the bathroom as he pointed at your hand. You looked at your hand, eyes wide open as you remembered what had happened. Fuck, did you actually leave it at the pool. Remembering last time that someone found it, it was the reason Lewis even found out about Charles and you. Lewis wasn’t having your silence, sensing it couldn’t mean anything good. Of course there was the fear in his mind that you had done something. Who could blame him? It wasn’t the first time after all. But he just didn’t want to believe it. So instead he settled for your lie, that you had taken it off when showing it to Carmen and forgotten it in her hotelroom. It must be mentioned that it was a diamond ring along with a silver band, worth quite a bit of money. So you could just hope no one would steal it. 

You had texted Charles that you needed to talk to him because of an emergency. Worried he texted you to meet him at the hotel, it would be hard to talk at the paddock without anyone noticing. Well nearly impossible. You agreed with Charles saying it would be hard to explain to Lewis but that you would try to meet him there. And just minutes later you gave Lewis a goodbye kiss before getting in your taxi and taking off in the opposite direction, having told your husband you’d go with Carmen and she needed help picking out an outfit. Lewis was glad that you seemingly finally had made a friend but there was something off. His gut feeling was telling him that you weren’t being fully truthful. 

Charles looked like a little kid on his first school day when he opened the door to his hotel room. Smiling from ear to ear as he pulled you into his room, immediately pressing his lips onto yours. You chuckled into the kiss before pulling away, remembering why you were here. Staring into the brown haired guys eyes with worry as he raised his eyebrows in confusion, pouting his lips „What happened?“

Charles arm pulled you in tighter as you held up your hand with a sigh. The Ferrari driver looked back and forth between you and the hand scrunching his browes before realization hit him „Oh.“

„Yes. Oh.“ you shook your, head biting your lips as Charles pursed his lips.

„Did Lewis notice?“

„Yes, of course he did.“ you groaned, burying your face in your hands at the mentioning of your husbands name. You had told Charles about the fact you wanted to get to know him last night. You also told him you were planning on getting a divorce but it would the time. He of course understood and told you he'd be there for you, promising you wouldn't even have to sleep together if it made things complicated. He just wanted you to be happy and he knew if you didn't get out your marriage, that would never happen.

Charles took a deep breath before sighing and removing your hands with his, making you look at him as he placed a kiss on your forehead in hopes to cheer you up „It’s fine mon amour. We’ll find it.“

George Russell was confused by the sighting he had made this morning when going for a swim. The diamond glistening at the edge of the pool not to be overseen. Inspecting it, he felt like the piece of jewelry looked familiar. But he couldn't quite place it and feeling like it was probably worth quite a bit of money he decided to just drop it off at the hotel reception. But on his way over there he noticed something that struck him as odd. Engraved on the inside of the silver band in small cursive letter was a date next to a name he knew very well; L.Hamilton.

The British guy was stunned by his discovery, knowing now, this must be your ring. He remembered you had gone out with Carmen the night before and dropped her off around midnight but his girlfriend hadn’t mentioned anything about going for a swim. And Lewis was, unlike a lot of other drivers, not staying at this hotel. Which brought him back to a rumor he had heard going around the past couple of weeks; that Lewis wife was apparently spotted with another driver at a hotel in Miami. Not giving much about gossip, this now still intrigued him. Was it true? Did you really have an affair?

George felt like he had fully formed into Sherlock Holmes, putting the pieces of the puzzle together. If you had dropped of Carmen at around midnight you must have gone to the pool after which you would have needed a keycard for. A keycard you didn’t have because you weren’t staying here?

The guy behind the reception table of course looked at George critically when he was asked to check which key card was used to enter the pool area just past midnight. And although it was probably illegal, the spanish guy told George that there was in fact a single key card that had been used, entering around midnight and leaving just an hour or so later. He gave the Mercedes driver the number, telling him he couldn’t hand out names or he might lose his job. 

George thanked him, realizing the information he had recieved was enough for now. With the ring in his hand he went to his room, showered and got changed as Carmen was still fast asleep. George realized he could have asked her first about what he was planning to do. But he realized Y/n was her friend and she would probably be biased. So without wasting another second he left his room and texted his teammate, feeling like it was the right thing to do; I found something you might be interested in. It’s about your wife.

Putting away his phone, he proceeded to roam the halls of the big hotel. And just a floor above his he found it; Room 247. He took a deep breath in, knowing he was about to find out someone he knew, wasn’t who he thought. To his knowledge a lot of drivers were staying here, so it could have literally been anyone. He knocked on the door a couple of times. Feeling like he could hear voices inside and after what felt like an eternity the door was ripped open, revealing a guy, he knew very well, looking as pale as a ghost.

„Charles?“ George gasped, seeing that it was actually his friend standing there. Charles looked startled but that was probably because he knew just a few meters away, hiding in the bathtub was Georges teammates wife and if that wasn’t enough to unsettle him, just one second later the elevator door in the hall opened and out stepped none other than Lewis, looking like he was ready to actually murder someone. 

Charles looked at George with wide eyes asking him what the hell he had done, as the Mercedes driver just stared straight ahead. If he had known that it was his friend that gotten himself in this situation he might would have reconsidered telling Lewis what he had told him. And although George didn’t understand what had triggered Lewis into coming here straight away, he knew it must mean something had been brewing for a long time. Little did he know that Lewis had followed Y/n to the hotel as he sat outside waiting. Contemplating wheter or not to trust her. And for a short second he did, he trusted his wife and just when he wanted to take off again, he had gotten a text from George. Putting all sorts of doubts in his head. As he stormed into the hotel, knowing exactly what he had to ask; Charles Leclercs room number. It gutted him hearing that Charles was actually staying here and when he walked out the elevator and could spot George and Charles standing in the doorway anger overtook him.

Meanwhile you were literally laying in a bathtub with your hand covering your mouth as you could hear the scene outside unfold. Clearly hearing your husband voice as George tried to desperately calm hin down.

„Where is she?“ Lewis yelled, resisting the urge to push Charles who was blocking his way. George somewhere between them putting his hand on Lewis shoulder. He knew by now that Lewis must know more than he did, so he‘d probably not mention his findings and add fuel to a already raging fire. 

„Calm down Lewis.“ George whispered, not wanting to cause a scene as Charles looked overwhelmed. He knew he wasn’t a good person for sleeping with Lewis wife. But he hadn't imagined feeling this guilty abozt it. Seeing Lewis face and how he genuinely looked upset.

„No! I wanna know where my wife is for god damn sake!“ Lewis cursed looking at George before looking back at the brown haired guy „I told you to stay away from her!“

George ripped his eyes wide open, hearing that Lewis had known about this. It surprised him because if it had been him who found out that Carmen was doing something like this, he would have sure as hell not let it fly by like that. 

„I’m sorry.“ is all Charles could say, totally perplexed which pissed off Lewis even more. How could he come of as so innocent when he was clearly shagging someone else's wife. Lewis felt nauseous just at the thought of it, it was even worse knowing it had happened multiple times by now. How could you have done this to him? He had given you everything. You had been together since you were teenagers for god's sake. You were his. His Y/n. Not Charles, no he was just trying to pull you apart.

„I couldn’t care less.“ Lewis spat out taking a step towards the monégasque guy, an intimidating look on his face. The Mercedes driver wasn't normally someone who approved of violence but in that moment he wanted nothing more than to punch Charles straight in the face.

„I know! I know!“ Charles took a step back, scared of what Lewis might do. He wanted to explain himself but didn’t think he could ever put it into the right words. Luckily Charles would never have to because even if he didn’t know that second you walked out the bathroom behind him, tears in your eyes, as you had listened to the interaction from inside. You had to put an end to this. This wasn’t Charles fault. God this wasn’t even Lewis fault. The only person to blame for this was you.

Lewis heart was shattered into a million pieces as he saw you appear behind his opponent. His closed fist hitting the wall, causing everyone to flinch. George behind him just shaking his head, sending Charles a dissapointed look and mumbling something along the lines of „unbelievable“ before reaching his hand in his pocket. He approached Lewis who had his head hanging low, patting his back before handing over the small piece of seemingly meaningless metal to him. 

„I found it this morning.“ George sighed, before sending Lewis who was staring at the ring in his hand, one last apologetic look. The younger guy then turned around and left, not being able to handle this uncomfortable situation any longer. He didn’t know the full story, but he knew he felt sorry for his teammate. No one deserves to be treated like that. 

„Amour.“ Charles whispered as you stood behind  him, looking at how upset you were breaking his heart „Do you really wanna do-"

„I have to Charles.“ you took a deep breath, your voice shaky as you looked into his eyes. Charles nodded, understanding what this probably meant, things wouldn’t be easy. They were gonna be real hard at first. He took a step aside letting you pass as you approached Lewis, who looked like he was about to literally have a breakdown. 

„Lewis.“ you whispered but he just shook his head, seeing you with Charles and hearing him call you that felt like a knife was stabbed into his chest and slowly being twisted.  Lewis looked at you shaking his head as he whispered „Don’t do this please. Don’t.“

You closed your eyes, grabbing his hand as you put the palm of your free one against his cheek. Looking him into his eyes as a tear rolled down your cheek „I have to. This isn’t fair to you. You deserve better, we deserve better. You know this isn't just because of Charles. It's been a long time coming."

Lewis felt like his heart stopped right there and then as he closed his eyes and bit his lip, stopping it from crying. Opening them up again and looking at the ring in his hand one last time before storing it into his pocket. You knew he had come to acceptance. He looked at you with his lips pressed together as he wiped the tear rolling down your cheek with his thumb „Don’t cry baby."

With that Lewis placed one last kiss on your forehead before turning around and leaving. Leaving you feeling like a hollow shell, your heart aching with each breath, grasping for air.  Turning around, seeing Charles looked equally as sad as you did before crashing into his arms. And as he held you closer then ever in that moment he wasn’t being your affair, not your lover. He was just for the time being, your friend. The friend you had desperately needed all these years.

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[angelst4re]

ash I'm begging you to write some type of Jace angst, like where he regects the reader after she confesses, or maybe stands her up when they're supposed to go on a date or they go to the club and he's being all touchy with her because he's drunk and then the next morning he just doesn't remember and doesn't care too

just some kind of angst </33

eeeee i loved this idea!!!! and i just had to write it because jace <33

Last Night- Jace (Wayland? Herondale?) x Reader

summary: they say drunk words are sober thoughts, and jace has a lot to confess after a few drinks

warnings: none!! :) (unless alcohol counts!!)

notes: i don't know if i like this :( i had a few different ideas of how i could've written this and i wish i did it differently now... but i could always make up for it with a part 2...? ;)

Everybody knew Jace wasn’t one for relationships. He hated to show his vulnerable side and he would never see the same girl more than once. You were quite upset by this, as you had liked him for quite a while now. Every time you thought he was going to open up to you and let you in, he would turn cold again, shutting his feelings off. Although it did upset you, you understood why he acted like this, given his childhood. 

It was finally Saturday night, and you and Izzy were getting ready to go out. The two of you would go out to clubs together every week, it would usually end in her bringing a man back to her bedroom and you going to bed even earlier than you would do on any other night. But tonight, Alec and Jace had been asking about joining the both of you, and although Izzy was reluctant at first, she gave in, and the four of you headed to the club. 

Not long after getting in, Izzy had already found someone to kill time with, and Alec was pleasantly surprised to have bumped into Magnus, which left you and Jace by the bar, and he was already on his second drink. 

“Do you want another one?” Jace asked, pointing to your empty glass. 

“No, I shouldn't drink too much tonight. But I might have a coke?” 

Jace nodded, and he ordered another drink for himself too. You looked cautiously at him as he handed you yours, thanking him, before sighing and looking for Isabelle.

“Does this happen every time?” Jace asked. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Izzy finds somebody and leaves you by yourself?”

“Usually,” you answer, “or sometimes I’ll find someone too.” 

After months of heartache, you wondered if you could win Jace over by making him jealous. He’s used to girls falling at his feet for him, so you decided to test it out. 

“Oh yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, “well you’re stuck with me tonight.”

“But what if a cute girl comes up to you? Surely I wouldn’t be stuck with you all night.” 

Jace chuckled, waiting a moment before responding, as if he was hesitant to answer. 

“I’m afraid to break it to you, but I don’t think any girl in this world is cuter than you.” 

You were shocked by those words, but you tried not to take much notice of what he said as he was clearly drunk. 

“Jace, you’re drunk. You don’t mean that.” You said, a smile creeping onto your lips as you shook your head. 

“I do mean it,” he told you, “I’ve always thought you were the most gorgeous- the most beautiful-”

“Jace!” You interrupted him, “stop talking!” You chuckled, reaching for your drink. 

“I’m sorry I don’t tell you enough. I’m just worried about how you’d react, I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” He said, leaning towards you and brushing a piece of hair away from your face, before letting his hand rest on your waist, causing your heart to skip a beat. 

“Jace…” You mumble, not knowing what else to say, “then why have you always turned me down? Why do you-”

“Because you’re too good for me, and I know you know it.”

You’re truly lost for words, so you pull him in for a hug, which lasted longer than you would’ve thought. His touch, his smell, the beating of his heart, it was all so overwhelming, and you knew that tomorrow, when he was sober, he would forget everything he told you, and it would all go back to normal. 

“Jace, you’re drunk. I’m taking you home, okay? I’ll text Alec and Izzy when we get back but I think you need to go to bed before you do something you’ll regret.” 

“But we’ve only been here for like 20 minutes, just one more drink?”

“Jace, no. We’ve been here for an hour now and you clearly can’t handle your alcohol. We’re going back.” 

He gave in eventually, sighing as he took your hand and led you through the crowd of people and towards the exit. 

The walk back to the institute wasn’t long, but it felt like hours due to the awkward silence between the two of you. You wondered whether Jace has finally realised what he had said in the club, that he had begun to sober up, but as he spoke again, it was clear that he was still rather intoxicated. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.” You replied, looking up from the ground to the gorgeous man beside you. 

“So I was wondering… because- I’ll be honest with you, I haven’t been feeling the best lately- I mean, mentally, everything at the institute has began to really-”

“Jace,” you gave him a sweet smile, an apology for interrupting him, “what do you want to ask me?” 

“I was going to ask if I could… maybe… sleep with you tonight? Wait no! No! I mean, stay with you, in your room. I just don’t want to be alone tonight, that’s why I went out with you, Izzy and Alec, I was hoping maybe I would find someone to take home with me.” 

You chuckled slightly as you approached the doors to the institute, looking at Jace with soft eyes. You had always felt empathetic towards Jace, Izzy had her brother (Alec), his friend Clary had her childhood best friend (Simon), and he had nobody, just like you. 

“Of course you can, Jace. Of course.”

When you got to your room, you did a quick bit of tidying whilst Jace changed in his room. By the time he had knocked on your door, you hoped your room looked okay, not that he would even take notice of it in the state he was in. 

You told Jace to make himself comfortable whilst you went to the bathroom, changed and washed your face. When you returned, Jace was sitting up in bed reading the book that you kept on your bedside table. 

“Do you like reading?” You asked as you sat beside him on your side of the bed. 

“Only if the book sounds interesting.” 

“Does that one sound interesting?” 

“Not really,” he answered truthfully, “I don’t quite get it.” 

You chuckled at this once more, and Jace put the book back down. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll explain it to you in the morning. I’m going to turn the light off now, try and get some sleep, okay.” 

“Yeah…” He mumbled sleepily, getting comfortable as you switched the lamp off, “goodnight, I love you.”

“Goodnight, Jace.” 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

When you woke up the next morning, the bed was empty and cold. You had wondered whether you dreamt the whole thing, but when you saw your book wasn’t in its usual place you knew it had all actually happened. 

You got up and got yourself ready to go down for breakfast. When you got there, you noticed Jace was the only one in the kitchen, eating a slice of toast. 

“Good morning.” You smiled, reaching for a bowl as you were going to have cereal this morning. 

“Mrnng.” Jace grunted. 

“Hungover?” You laughed as he nodded his head, “god, Jace, do you remember what happened last night?” 

His eyes widened in fear as he shook his head. 

“No, but I woke up in your bed. We didn’t… do anything… did we?” 

“No, we didn’t have sex, Jace. But you did say you loved me, and told me I’m the most gorgeous, beautiful girl in the world, although that wasn’t exactly what you said, I shut you up before you could finish your sentence.” 

“Oh.” He said, clearly not bothered as he continued eating his toast. 

“Oh? Jace, is that all you have to say about that?” You were quite confused now, and also angry. You knew you shouldn’t have taken what he said seriously. 

“What do you want me to say?” 

“I want you to tell me whether you meant those things!” You raised your voice, feeling your eyes begin to well up with tears. 

“I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was saying.” He scoffed, putting his plate by the sink when he had finished. 

“Jace-” 

“Please, my head hurts, I don’t want to talk about this now, okay? Maybe later but not now. Sorry.”

#jace wayland #jace herondale #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #the mortal instruments #jace wayland x reader #jace herondale x reader #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader #shadowhunters

[loveisfriendship]

Leaving Breadcrumbs behind [12/?]

Author’s Note: Wow, it has been a while…

But nonetheless the love this story still gets is overwhelming and I’ll probably never can make up for it. Here is to a new part.

Enjoy.

Love,

Lis

Leaving Breadcrumbs behind Masterlist

“Hey Kono, did you find anything that needs a password?” Steve asks, after he hung up with Hawkeye.

“So far nothing. Why?“ she asks, double checking everything again, just to make sure.

“We just got a password from Hawkeye that (Y/N) left. If anything pops up, let me know.” Steve answers, as Kono nods. Steve turns around as he hears the other entering the HQ again.

“Anything new?” Steve asks them.

“No, nothing in the houses. No more clues.” Danny answers.

“Sorry, Steve.” Chin says, giving Steve a pat on the shoulder.

“Thanks. But I didn’t think there would be more.” Steve answers, giving Chin a forced smile. Before they can continue, Joe arrives and has two Navy Officers with him.

“Commander McGarrett, nice to see you alive and well.” One of the Officers says, making Steve clench his jaw.

“Yeah, well, let’s leave it at that.” Steve answers, standing straight.

“Steve, these are Lieutenant Rath and Lieutenant Wily.” Joe introduces them.

„They have reportedly been handling the case we are working on.” Joe continues, keeping it vague and giving Steve a specific look, making it clear to not give away too much information. Steve sends another look to Kono, who puts up the Screensaver on all the screens and putting the letters and everything else beneath it.

“Nice to meet you Lieutenants. We hope you can explain to us what has been going on with my fiancée, that made her shoot me in the first place.” Steve greets them with a tight smile, challenging them to lie to him. Everybody of the 5-0 team, gathered next to him, including Joe. Whereas the Lieutenants stood opposite of them.

“Commander McGarrett, we can assure you, that we didn’t know, that she would turn to such drastic measures.” Lieutenant Wily says, trying to calm the atmosphere.

“Really, then enlighten me and tell me what you did know or expect to happen?” Steve answers.

“Sorry to say this Commander, but we are not allowed to just give out this information to anyone.” Lieutenant Rath said sternly, making Joe and Steve scoff.

“We are not just anyone, are we? I am her father and he is her future husband.” Joe snaps, taking a step towards Rath, eyeing him up and down.

“Nonetheless, we are not allowed to give out classified information.” Rath responds, getting closer to Joe as well, being practically in his face.

“Oh well, if that is the case…” Steve starts as he takes step towards the Lieutenants and Joe takes a step back. “Take us to someone who can.” Steve says, both SEALs standing straight trying to intimidate the Lieutenants in front of them.

Somewhere in the jungle…

“What do you mean until yesterday?” JJ asks concerned at the phrase and your behavior.

“That what it cost me to get to you… I was engaged to Steve.” You answer, new tears flowing down your cheeks.

“What happened?” your brother asks, grabbing your shoulders and making you look at him.

“I shot him…” you answer, starting to sob and loosing the strength in you legs and falling to the floor. Thankfully not hard, as JJ catches you as much as he can with the strength that is left in him.

“…and he is dead.” You sob into his shoulders, as he puts one arm around your shoulders and grabs the back of your hand with his other hand, trying to sooth you.

“Oh, (Y/N/N).” he answers, giving you a kiss on your hair.

“I miscalculated my shot…” you hiccup, trying to gain composure. “I shot him with my eyes close, but I apparently miscalculated. I saw him clearly and I did shoot him with my closed eyes on purpose. But I practiced beforehand and never missed. And now… I killed Steve.” You sob and you brush away your tears with your sleeve.

“Are you really sure?” he asks, moving your chin up with his hand, to make you look at him.

“What do you mean?” you sniff. “That’s what Wo Fat told me and I saw Steve on the ground before I ran. I didn’t see where I hit him in that moment.”

“When I know one thing, then that you never miss. Or miscalculate your shot.” JJ answers, grabbing your head again.

„And the other thing I know is that from all people Wo Fat is not to be trusted. He might have lied, to break you.” He continues.

“You think I didn’t kill him?” you look into his eyes, your mind racing, that of course your brother is right and you can’t trust Wo Fat with anything he tells you.

“I think, that you are the best shot the Army ever had. And when I still know my sister after all these years, than yes, I think you didn’t miscalculate.” He answers, giving you a smile and pulling you into another hug. You hug him back and when you pull back, you both stand up again.

“Okay, but whatever the case. We need to think about how we can get out of here.” you say, making your brother grin.

“Now THAT is my sister talking.” He says and you grin back. With some littler glimmer of hope inside of you, you start discussing what JJ knows about the surroundings, that Wo Fat and his minions.

LBB Taglist: @geeksareunique @fandomoniumflurry @rahma29417 @letsstarsfalling @fairchild21 @fungk17 @woodworthit666 @honestlyoriginalthing @evyiione @everygoodusernameistaken16 @littlewhiterose @reincarnated-ghost @damedoctoroftardis @princess76179 @jessica-tree @writingmeow29 @nocturnalherb16 @drakelover78 @kalanimcgarrett @mercyy98 @jessica-tree @auttumnsayshi @football1921

#steve mcgarrett #steve mcgarrett x reader #danny williams #kono kalakahua #joe white #leaving breadcrumbs behind #lis writes #hawaii 5 0 #hawaii five o #hawaii 50

[starfa11]

Rewrite the Stars

Nevermind, I got it, crisis averted Warnings: none! WC: 0.9 k Sirius Orion Black was many things. A rumored playboy, a socialite, and an elite member of society, he had people tripping over themselves to be caught in the same room as him. He was the prince of princes in high society, a well-known name, and good looks to boot, not to mention the boy was a brilliant businessman and was the pride of his parent’s strict expectations. He’d gone to a bar after a long night of socializing with people who wanted nothing more than to use his social standing for their own gain, for their own status, what he wasn’t expecting was to meet a man. That man was named James Potter, he said “You’re an incredible businessman, you’re an even better salesperson.” Sirius knew this, he couldn’t stand this sort of talk, so he’d responded casually with, “Look, James, was it? I appreciate the offer, but I don’t pick up peanuts. I admire your show, talent, and vigor, but I’m content with my life now.” And James had countered quickly, his mind coming up with a response faster than anybody in high society’s brains could even dream to work. “Are you content, or do you not know anything else, Mr. Black?”, and that stuck with him, but Sirius Black was as good a businessman as James Potter said he was, so they needed to reach a consensus, he wouldn’t offer his help for free. And a consensus they did reach.

It was a few days later when Sirius was introduced to his first show at the Circus, he stumbled around wildly, a bit overwhelmed by the colors and the sounds. He felt as if he could breathe and he’d inhale joy and life, sure it smelled of peanuts and sweat, but it was the most soul he’d seen in one place in a long while, the plays he produced were nothing short of bland in comparison to the majesty, and chaos of the circus. He remembered being introduced to different people and acts, each with a smile that they couldn’t help. He remembers hearing lilting voices and coy arguments, remembers seeing costumes and people doing run-throughs of their acts, he remembers it all. But Sirius Black could not forget the first time he saw you. You were in the air, a pleased smile on your face as you swung on the trapeze like it was easy, as if it weren’t something that would scare most grown men. He remembers making eye contact briefly as you swung high enough to see him standing next to James Potter, as your eyes burned holes into his soul, as the color of them suddenly became his new favorite color. He suddenly felt like Icarus, you were his Sun, he was enamored and he’d never spoken a word to you. He could have stayed up there watching you perform and smile and swing for as long as you went on, but that would look odd, for the son of high society to be in love with the girl on the trapeze of the up-and-coming circus, wouldn’t it? He’d stayed there with James for a few more minutes, to watch, to pretend like he was observing from a business perspective when in reality he was so hooked on your movements and smile there was nothing else to do. James escorted him back down behind the curtain with everybody else, and you appeared a few minutes later, James had called you over and your name was burned into Sirius’s mind, so he plastered on a flirtatious smile, shook your hand, did everything he figured was right. Your voice was as soft as a sunrise but as sure as the sun itself when you spoke and when you asked him, “So, Mr. Black, what’s your act?” and he had told you, “Well, I don’t have an act.”, and had blinked like a buffoon while doing so, looking a bit confused, he was so sure he looked pitiful. But you laughed, and it was so lovely he aspired to recreate the sound again, and you told him, “Everybody has an act, Mr. Black, maybe you just need to find yours out, hm?”

So he’d come back, so many days he’d lost count, he’d spoken to you more, and he’d figured that if anything he should go to see you. Sirius had adopted his role of businessman quite easily, and when he had found a way to introduce the circus to high society, you had seemed so excited knowing that otherwise you would never even be allowed to go. Your smile was contagious but you’d suddenly gone sullen and it struck his heart like a caged bird, you had seemed so pleased before what had happened? And when your voice came out of your mouth, sounding a little bit scared of the answer, when you’d asked if they were all permitted to go, he hadn’t properly thought it through, all he knew is that he needed to make sure that you stopped looking like that, that you stopped looking so hurt and scared when he’d responded, “Either we will all go, or none of us go, Love.” and with the admission of that out into the world, into the air, you had been spun around in a hug by one of your coworkers before you’d gone to him, hugging him tight and murmuring thank you’s.

If he was Icarus, he was infinitely sure that you were his Sun, his Star.

#Carlisle!Sirius Black #Greatest Showman AU #Sirius black x you #Sirius black fluff #padfoot #Sirius x reader #Sirius orion black #the marauders #marauders era #James potter #Prongs #Sirius imagines #x reader imagines #x you fluff

[baezdylan]

i think what confuses people about mike and rightfully so (and this is actually in the text, it's just painfully underdeveloped :) is that he's both extremely logical and extremely kind-hearted. and since he's so underwritten, it seems like these qualities are in contradiction and one of them shouldn't be there at all, when actually s4!mike would make a lot of sense if he was written with more nuance. because these qualities can crash under specific circumstances, but can also work extremely well having individual character logic in mind. (and for mike, his friends are a big part of that personal world and its mechanics) will has gone missing? mike HAS to keep looking for him until he finds him. dustin says you can't have more than one best friend? mike opposes dustin's logic specifically and claims the opposite not because he believes he's right, but because he knows he is based on evidence, the evidence being the time he's spent with these three people. he always tries to make sense out of things and he's always quick to find the pattern in everything based on what he's seen in the past which is why he's also quick to follow that same pattern and is unwilling to give up on it until the situation is led to a satisfying conclusion. (once that is done, he has to find a new challenge and a new problem to solve right away) waiting around for things to unfold is not an option to him, he has to take action 1) because he wants his friends to be safe 2) because it's rational and 3) the first two reasons are connected, painted one over the other, easily mixed up when and only when mike doesn't count himself into the equation. that's where these qualities crash. when mike is forced to make sense of himself. this is why that funny moment in s2 when he picks up a candlestick while everybody else is holding an actual weapon works not only as comic relief (and maybe i'm looking too much into this), but explains mike in a more profound sense. he eliminates himself, as in the person that he is, from the equation and functions on his default setting which is -> when there's a problem, that problem must be solved no matter the person's individual characteristics unless they can somehow lead to success (in doing that, in denying himself from these qualities he's taking away the puzzle pieces that would help his self-discovery. aren't the little things exactly what makes a life?) that is a common thread with him, especially if he's the person to be reduced to a chess piece which he finds weirdly comfortable. an example of these qualities crashing against each other is in s3, when el is the perfect solution to a problem, yes, but she's also putting herself in danger by solving that problem (note: which mike has seen happen, he's seen how her powers can affect her well-being, it's a rational concern which i feel like is an important observation to add) and mike is not only worried, but in complete distress. when he's explaining himself to max and the others he also sounds like he's explaining his reasoning to himself. he isn't just defensive of his viewpoint, he's also nervous and overwhelmed and overstimulated. that's why that monologue resulted in an emotional outburst. (which is still a love confession, no matter how you categorize mileven as a relationship) i really really wish all of this was taken into account during s4 because there could have been a perfect culmination of all of this with mike starting high school and being forced to reexamine himself and reevaluate the idea of normalcy he wants to fit into. (i love the first little hints of authenticity in mike's hair and wardrobe in s4 :") also that moment in s1 when he stands up for el to lucas? i see it as something mike struggled with understanding in retrospect. he can be quite impulsive, especially when his loved ones are involved, but the difference between s1 and s4 mike is that s4 mike is aware of that impulsivity and feels the need to tone it down because he doesn't understand where it comes from. conclusion: mike wheeler is the head, not the heart of the group.

afterthought: there's an interesting discussion to be had on dustin and mike and how dustin is logical in a way that mike wants to be, but he's also in touch with his emotions in a way that mike isn't. (it's like mike's moments of emotional intelligence are rooted in impulsivity or instinctive reactions and that's why they aren't as present after s2 for the reasons i listed above)

#mike wheeler #stranger things spoilers #not really but yeah #stranger things #jo's rambling issues tag #anywayzzzz mike being 'bland' could be a good character struggle and not a writing failure if the writers were yk good

[thvnderr]

❀ *◦ wen junhui. demi boy. he/they. heterosexual/demiromantic. ⇝ hey, isn’t that Lou Jin ( nickname: tyche )? i think that the ( twenty seven ) year old from vienna, austria works as clerk for the broom closet antiques & pawn shop and cashier for slashback video rentals, but outside of that people describe them as the sun coming out the moment you step out of the house, waking up with a bleeding nose, the sudden twitch of fingers at something that makes you uncomfortable but then smiling and shoving the negativity under the rug. i hear they are dense & kind to a fault, but they are also known to be agile & generous. consider giving them a visit at their home in kingpin trailer park and get to know why they’re called the lucky seven. ( lis )

Murder mention tw, Violence tw

Your earliest memory is Vienna and its pretty streets; a nice studio on top of a bakery whose owner’s daughter always gifted you some bread for breakfast. You bring flowers in exchange.

You wake up in Anchorage, the trailer park is not exactly pretty but you still open the curtains dramatically like you are in a musical. “Good morning, Baltimore!”, you sing. A shower, clothes and soon you are out not without saying goodbye to your roommate regardless if they are home or not.

Firstly, the antique shop. You love the shivers, everything in there is haunted or magical somehow. You just know it. A pile of files do their work as door stopper. Why do you even have those files? You don’t remember ever reading them and when the curiosity peeks, nausea overwhelms you so you leave it alone.

Pearly smiles and fast blabbering, people finds you endearing and ends up buying you lunch, dinner, clothes... woah, that one lady had hidden intentions so you reject the expensive dinner and the clothes. Ain’t calling her mommy.

An old lady comes over and she’s been watching an old necklace for a while. “It belonged to a duchess”. Truly is you don’t know, but you want to believe; who else would wear something like that anyways? So she buys your story whether by ignorance or endearment towards your childish behavior. You are a town’s favorite.

You clock out, grab a sandwich and then head to your next job: video rentals. God, you love a good slasher; so you are always playing one while the customers stop by ( or don’t ), you defend Billy Loomis like he’s your own blood, but you pout when someone asks if you’re a psycho too. Truth is you don’t approve of Billy’s doings, but you believe everybody has a heart, even you.   Specially you.  Some people beg to differ.

You are a good person, you want to believe that. You shelter strays, donate to the orphanage, help out at events, walk old grannies across the street. You are good person AND YOU KNOW IT.     But who are you trying to convince?

“Fine, he’s a douche”, you finally admit after losing a debate about Scream. Killers are not good people, they don’t have a heart and deserve a painful end... so why does that affect you?

You don’t talk about your childhood, you say it was unremarkable but truth is you can’t remember it. The suburbs, a nice house and dad teaching you how to play catch. Oh, maybe parents yelling at each other, you started fending for yourself very young and left; yes, that sounds more convincing for everybody including yourself. You talk about bad shit and people stop asking.

Finding money on the ground is not odd, everybody is like this, right? How else are you supposed to save for the new gaming console if people stop dropping their money and you keep using every penny to feed the dogs at the abandoned lot?

People always comment on the good stamina that you have, girls flirt but soon stop calling you after they find out their goldfish has more brains; the occasional one night stand calls back and you answer because they are feeling lonely and so are you.

You are pretty, you are kind and noble, but you are all alone. Nightmares call you killer, fake, a copy, but you don’t understand. “Too much pizza and mango smoothie with vodka”, you argue, but there’s more to it, isn’t it?

You don’t remember of the hard training days, of the elimination missions and the lack of a heart. You don’t remember being kicked out for helping a chick up its nest, for walking a target towards a shelter because he had lost everything. You don’t remember using your insanely good aim to earn prizes for the kids and your long legs to run charity marathons. You don’t remember the scoffs and disappointment made by your superior, you don’t remember the names and the disregard. You don’t remember when you started feeling so alone.

So now you help others so they don’t feel like you do; you shove every negative thing under the rug and smile. You don’t know what’s your purpose, you don’t have clear goals, but it’s okay, you are happy, aren’t you? This is better than anything, it’s a good life. It’s better than Vienna, than authority praise. Yes, it’s a good life.

PINTERES BOARD

#anchorintro #lou.intro #murder mention tw #violence tw

[moxleys-darlin]

5: No Rain, No Flowers

Summary: Grace goes to court, has a face-off, then celebrates her birthday... oh boy.

TW: discussions of child abuse, self-depreciation, and confrontation with abusers.

Disclaimer: This story has Eddie Guerrero, Chris Benoit, and Nancy Benoit. If this bothers you bow out now because they're here to stay. Nancy and Chris have never been together in this story, Chris is with Eddie and Nancy is with Taz (thank you for the idea @sinderellanightwolf) and the mother of Tyler (HOOK).

Flashbacks in italics.

I only claim Grace and her family; everyone else I'm borrowing.

(Pictures not mine)

Today was finally the day she’d been waiting for. True to her word, Nancy helped her get everything she needed for her case and finally at the end of the summer, court day was here. She looks in the mirror and runs her hands down her clothes to sooth her nerves. Joanie and Nancy had taken her shopping for court appropriate clothes, and she hopes they make her look grown up. She runs the brush through her dark brown one more time before taking a few deep breathes and leaving the bathroom. She startles slightly when she sees Shaul sitting on her bed waiting for her.

“Buenos dias, amiga. How are you feeling? Ready for today?”

Grace sits down heavily next to her and sighs. “I’m nervous, Shaul. This is the first time in like three months that I’ll see my mom and Marcus. She’s gonna be loud and dramatic, I just know it.” She rubs her hands up and down her legs anxiously but happily gives her hand to Shaul when she holds her hand out. 

“I don’t wanna tell you don’t worry because today is scary, but I think you’ll win and when you do, we’ll be here waiting for you. Papa, Tía Joanie, and Tía Nancy are going with you today while Dad and Tío Taz will stay with us.” Shaul stands up and pulls Grace with her before hugging her tightly. “We’re all with you even if we’re here and we’ll welcome you home.” She whispers in her ear before stepping back and refixing her hair and clothes. “All perfect and ready to go now.” 

Grace smiles softly and holds back tears. “Thanks Shauly, come on let’s go downstairs.” 

Grace is so overwhelmed that Joanie leads her to the hallway after her gracious thank you’s to the smiling judge. When they make it to the hallway she turns quickly and squeezes Joanie before throwing herself at Eddie and burying her face in his neck.

“We did it! I can officially go home, Eddie!” She gasps out and she cries harder when he hugs her tighter. 

“It’s been your home for three months, Gracie, but yes, we can officially take you home now. Eres nuestra ahora.”

“Creo que lo he estado desde el primer día.” Grace pulls back as she hears a commotion behind them and as she turns Eddie grabs onto her shoulders. She flinches slightly when she can hear her mother raising her voice to cause a scene and she’s heading straight for their group. Nancy steps in front of them and Grace tries to stop her, but Eddie squeezes her shoulders to stop her.

“You.” The venom in her mother’s voice makes her back up further into Eddie. “You think some judgment from a woman that knows nothing about our family will keep me from my daughter? I will never give her up!” Her voice rises so that everybody’s attention is on their group, and she gets close to Nancy’s face. 

“You haven’t seen or tried to see her in three months, Mrs. Parker. That judge saw what you did to her and agreed she was better off without you. Try and come near her without her permission and you’ll deal with me personally and trust me; I will make you wish you never met me.” She leans in closer to my mother and speaks softly. “I will be your personal nightmare.”

“She is my daughter, not yours and don’t you dare threaten me.” She reaches for Grace and Eddie hands her over to Joanie who puts her behind her when she flinches violently. 

Nancy grabs her mom’s wrist tightly and throws it away from Grace. “She’s ours now; don’t act like you care now that you have an audience to perform in front of. That sweet girl is scared of you and your husband.” Grace leans her face into Joanie’s back so she doesn’t have to see them and clenches her hands into the sides of the woman’s shirt. “Go home and stay gone. She’s not yours anymore and she never will be again.”

“Amelia, I’m tired of this. The little brat won her stupid fucking case so let’s take our grateful children home and forget about her. She’s not worth the energy anymore.” 

He grabs Amelia by the arm and starts to pull her away which she doesn’t fight. She never looks back at Grace as she walks out the door and where once she would be heartbroken, she only feels relief. Nancy turns to face her when she starts to sob again, and Grace throws herself at the woman. 

“Oh baby, you’re okay and you’re safe.”

“I-I know.” She breathes in the woman’s perfume and decides to take the dangerous leap. “I love you Mama, thank you so much.”

“I love you too baby girl.” Nothing else needs to be said, she was finally free of her nightmare.

She sits on the couch by herself and watches her… family. She smiles at the word; she’d been considering them family for a while now, but she was afraid of getting too comfortable with the feeling. She sees José speaking with Chris and Taz and her smile widens at the fact that he made the trip to see her. She sighs and rubs her face with her hands, suddenly feeling exhausted by the events of the day. A weight drops next to her on the couch and Grace is surprised when she turns to see Tyler.

“Hey Ty.” She leaves it at that and lets him decide if he wants to talk. She’s surprised when she feels his bag of chips touch her arm and she turns to see him tipping the bag toward her. She smiles softly and takes a chip out of the bag and eats it.

“Thank you.” Grace receives another shock when he gets up and offers his fist to her which she bumps gently before he wanders off. 

“Everything okay, mon calme?” She looks up into the rabid wolverine’s face and grins. 

“He’s never given me a fist bump first or shared his chips with me.” She chuckles softly before she yawns. 

“Tired? You can head up and take a nap; you’ve had a pretty busy and emotional day.”

“But you, Taz, and José are here, and you all have to leave soon. I don’t want to miss being with y’all.” He chuckles lightly and ruffles her hair gently. 

“We’ll be back home next week and I’m sure Eddie, Joanie, or I can take you to see José before you start school at the end of the month. Go get some rest, calme, and I’ll tell them you were tired.” 

He turns to walk away but she grabs his wrist gently to stop him. “I’m glad I’m home, Chris, thank you for making it one.” He gives her another small smile before heading back to the group and she steals away upstairs to get some sleep. 

Halloween comes quickly and Grace knows she’s thriving here with Eddie and Chris. She’s felt safer and more loved with the family she’s made in the past few months than she had ever felt with her birth family. She swipes a little more white eyeshadow across her eyelid and finishes the look with a thin line of eyeliner. The angel costume compliments her tan skin and dark hair and the glitter with white makeup make her brown eyes pop; she can even say she thinks she looks pretty. She comes out of her bathroom as she hears a knock on her bedroom door. 

“Come in!” She grins brightly when she sees the little devil that walks through the door with Nancy behind him. “I love it, Ty; what do you think?” She does a small turn in place. “Do I pass as a good angel to your Devil?”

He squints at her like he looks at everyone, but she can see the small smirk on his face that shows his excitement. “You look pretty, Gracie.” He mutters before giving her a quick hug that surprises her. “Happy Birthday.”

She bends slightly and hesitates a moment to give him time to step away before she kisses him on the cheek and stands back up. “Thank you Ty; you sure are a handsome little devil.” She looks over his head and smiles at Nancy remembering when she had come to Grace about Tyler’s request. 

Grace is working at her desk on homework when she’s interrupted by a knock on the open door. Turning the stereo down, she turns to see Nancy peeking her head in.

“Hey baby, the door was open. Is it okay if I come in for a moment?”

“Oh yeah, I always leave the door cracked unless I’m changing or showering. Come on in. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine sweetheart. Tyler came to me the other day and asked if you and he could wear matching costumes. I told him he should ask you but to accept it if you say no. I know you like to say yes to him and Sheri unless it’s something outrageous, but I don’t want you to think you have to dress up with him.”

“I don’t mind! I would love to actually!”

“Well, I figured you’d dress up with your friends for the party.” 

“My friends aren’t coming to the party, Mama, it’s for family only.” She shrugs and stops Nancy with a wave of her hand. “My rule, not Papa or Dad’s. I want my birthday to be just us.” She shrugs again. “And as for Ty, I would dress up with him even if I had other plans because he wants to dress up with me. My brothers never wanted anything to do with me unless it was getting me in trouble or me doing something for them. Ty asking for me to wear a costume with him? That’s all I ever wanted from a little brother.” She tears up slightly and turns her face back to her homework so Nancy can’t see it.

They make their way downstairs, Ty’s hand in hers, and she smiles brightly when she sees everyone there. José had even made sure that he could make it. She gives him a big hug and he cups her cheek gently and kisses her on the forehead. 

“Feliz cumpleaños mi angel.”

“Gracias por estar aquí, José.”

“You’re eighteen, mija, I wouldn’t miss such an important birthday.”

She updates him on her school and her friends when he sees that there is only family surrounding them. She wanders off as Taz and Eddie come over and start talking about wrestling and Shawn and she rolls her eyes lovingly. She enters the kitchen to get a drink where she’s attacked by Shaul and Sheri with hugs.  “Your costume’s so pretty! We saw Tyler’s too and you two match perfectly!” Shaul says excitedly. “Happy Birthday!” She hugs Grace again. 

“Thank you! You two look amazing too! Snow White and Belle, right?”

Sheri spins to make her dress flare out and Grace giggles. “Yeah! I want to go find my prince now.” They turn to the doorway when they hear a pained groan.

“Please ma fille chérie, take pity on your poor Dad and stay ten. No princes until you’re Grace’s age, okay?” Her and Shaul giggle hysterically at the blush on Chris’s face and the pout on Sherilyn’s. 

Eddie comes into the kitchen and makes eye contact with Shaul which she nods at, and Grace is confused. She grabs Sheri’s hand and goes to the living room, leaving Grace with Eddie and Chris. 

“Suspicious.” She drawls and glares jokingly at them when they laugh at her. 

Eddie smiles and places a box in front of her and she looks up at them confused. “Open it cariña.” He waves a hand at it. 

“But you two took me and Shauly to the show a couple weeks back, that was my present. I’m confused.”

“Mon calme we got Shaul something else for her birthday too.” Chris places a hand on her shoulder before pointing at the box. “Go ahead.”

She unwraps it and stares at the box for a moment before looking up at their smiling faces. “You got me a p-phone? Really?” 

“We know you were saving up, but we wanted to get it for you. Is it okay?” She picks up the pink Razr phone she’d been saving for and holds it for a moment before hugging them excitedly. 

“It’s perfect and exactly the one I wanted! Thank you so much!”

“You’re on our plan so try not to text a novel, sí?”

“Te lo prometo papa; I’ll use it wisely.” 

He taps her on the end of her nose, making it scrunch up. “I know cariña. Now let’s go join everyone else before your little Devil comes looking for you.”

The rest of the night is magical, and this birthday will forever be her favorite she thinks. She gets Ty to dance with her for a moment and he gives her her own bag of chips as a present which she thanks him for with another kiss on the cheek. Nancy and Taz give her the book series she’d been eyeing and some new makeup. Joanie gives her a beautiful journal and pen while José gives her two envelopes of money. 

“One from me and one from Shawn and Mark, mija.”

She hugs everyone gratefully and thanks them profusely. Shaul takes Sherilyn upstairs to get her ready for bed and Grace can’t move since Ty is dead asleep with his head on her shoulder. 

“Give ‘im here sweetheart, I know you’re tired.”

“I’m okay Taz.” The yawn betrays her, and Taz gives her a deep chuckle. “I got ‘im; get some sleep for school tomorrow.” 

He takes Tyler in his arms and gives her a kiss on the temple, his orange sun soulmark in clear view. She reaches out and runs a finger down it in new fascination. Another chuckle breaks her out of the small chance.

She clears her throat. “S-sorry, I don’t know why they’re so interesting to me. Goodnight everyone, thank you for coming.” She sends the room a beaming smile and turns to her dads. “Do you want me to leave the phone down here? I know my friend’s dad does that.”

“No cariña, we trust you. Get some rest and we’ll see you in the morning.” She gives Eddie and Chris a hug. “We love you.”

“I love you too and everyone else as well.” She heads toward the stairs when her name is called.

“Oh Grace?” Her head turns to face Joanie. “I’ve heard that sometimes a fascination with marks means your time of finding yours is near. An old wives’ tale.” Grace watches as she strokes the green X and smiles.

“Maybe.” She shrugs and heads up the stairs towards the shower.

Spanish: Buenos dias, amiga: Good morning, my friend Tío/Tía: Uncle/Aunt Eres nuestra ahora: You're ours now Creo que lo he estado desde el primer día: I think I have been since day one Feliz cumpleaños mi ángel: Happy birthday my angel Gracias por estar aquí: Thank you for being here Te lo prometo: I promise

French: mon calme: my quiet one ma fille chérie: my darling daughter

In honor of my new computer, here's a new chapter! Thank you for those that are reading! I post here and on AO3! Much love!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/44570980

#everymilebetweenus #claudio/mox/grace #soulmarks #soulmates #grace parker #original character #found family #jon moxley #claudio castagnoli #jon moxley fanfic #claudio castagnoli fanfic #wwe imagine #aew imagine

[whoree321]

Hey, I believe your requests are open, so, could you please write smth were reader and Tech are friends with benefits?

Also, I’m in the same dilemma as you, cause everyone already forgot tbb and I’m still obsessed??? Like, were is everybody excitement about the show, it was gone so fast…

Anyway, thank ya <3

hello friend! this is a delicious request and i am more than happy to oblige! i’m not sure if you wanted like pure angst or like sexy successful fwb but above all else i am a dirty dirty slut for happy endings so i went light angst, heavy fluff, mild smut to get a little of everything lmaooooo. this also got a little out of control and i’m not sorry.

and literally i am suffering so much in this ever increasing drought of bad batch excitement. like i feel like the person at a party when everyone else is tired and wants to leave who’s still just way too hyped and is like “NO WAIT GUYS LETS HAVE MORE SHOTS AND PLAY TRUTH OR DARE COME ON ITLL BE FUN”. i am in absolute agony. but anyways!

a mutually beneficial arrangement (tech x gn!reader)

it was purely sex. just two friends helping each other relieve some stress occasionally. just two friends who happened to have sex with each other. until it wasn’t.

warnings: fwb, mild smut, reader is gender/genital neutral but they are penetrated by tech (amab)

word count: no idea but it’s pretty long

***

In hindsight, it really shouldn’t have shocked you that this was how things played out.

It’s not like you’d ever been friends with benefits with someone before. It’s not like you didn’t know how easily you could develop feelings for people. It’s not like you didn’t know you were maybe just a little too interested in Tech non-platonically before any of this even started.

No, you knew all of those things going into it. You made the conscious decision to be the biggest dumbass in the galaxy.

When Tech had first suggested a friends with benefits situation, it seemed like a much better idea than it actually was. You had been assigned to Clone Force 99 for a few weeks at that point and had already developed fast friendships with all of them (Crosshair even sometimes acknowledged your presence with neutrality and that definitely felt like at least an acquaintanceship). You were closest with Tech, and one tipsy night at 79’s found the two of you making out in a hallway near the bathroom. You could still remember the way his mouth tasted like whiskey as he pressed you up against the wall

He paused his assault on your lips to look at you, breath fanning lightly across your face. You whined at the loss of contact, not noticing in your haze the intensity in his eyes as he studied you, as though if he took in enough of you he would have the answer to an imposssible question. He migrated lower, planting kisses and sucking lightly on your neck until he made his way to your ear.

“Have you ever heard of people being platonic sexual partners?”, he asked low in your ear. You shuddered at the feeling of his breath and the deeper tone to his voice before you answered.

“You mean like friends with benefits?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I mean,” Tech clarified as he moved to once again nibble on the sweet spots of your neck. Had you had a little more sense, you would have warned him not to leave any noticeable marks, lest you suffer the teasing of the rest of the boys.

“I’ve heard of it, I’ve never done it before though. Why?”

“Well, given our current circumstance,” his response was punctuated by his ministrations on your pressure points, “it may be mutually beneficial for us to enter into that type of arrangement.”

You stopped him for a moment, and lifted his face so that you could make eye contact. Tech stood up a little straighter, hands running up and down your sides lightly as he gazed down at you.

“You think that we should be friends with benefits?”

Tech nodded, one hand moving to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

“I believe it would be an advantageous relationship. We could have relations while still maintaining our successful platonicity, thus eliminating the need to alter the dynamic of the squad with the complications of some trivial romance. It would also be physically beneficial. Sexual intercourse has been shown to successfully alleviate stress, as well as…”

He kept going, explaining the health benefits of sex, but it was hard to pay attention to his rambling while you tried to clear your head of the alcohol and the intoxication of his touch and figure out where you stood on his proposition. In that moment, everything he said made total sense. Granted, that part about “trivial romance” stung a little, but you could still fuck him without ruining the squad or your friendship with him, and Maker did you want to fuck him…

Uncharacteristically cutting off his rant, you responded. “I accept your offer. I would love to be friends with benefits with you.”

Tech grinned, a lust forming in his eyes at the new promise of the benefits the night was leading to.

“Splendid”

From that (mind-blowing) night, sex became a very regular thing. A mission went poorly? Frustrated sex. A mission went well? Celebratory sex. The Batch got leave time? Vacation sex. The Batch hadn’t gotten leave time in too long? Cabin fever sex. It really had started out pretty platonically, but after the first few times you could feel yourself falling head over heels for him. You knew you should stop it, Tech would never hold it against you or be upset if you changed your mind. You told yourself again and again that you would just break it off with him, but then his hands and his lips and his body would be on you, and the hungry way he looked at you would knock the air, and any ideas of making him stop, out of you.

In your defense, it wasn’t like you were the one who had suggested it. Tech had to know the likelihood that your “platonic sexual relationship” would only stay platonic for so long. Actually, you were surprised he hadn’t done a little more analysis of the situation. If he had taken into account all of the factors (the rate of failure in friends with benefits situations, each of your levels of emotionality and past relationships, the effects of living and working in close quarters, etc), you can’t imagine he would have thought it was a smart idea. If Tech had crunched the numbers like he normally would, it wouldn’t have produced favorable results. So for him to want to do it anyway, or to not even analyze it beforehand, must mean he had some sort of feelings for you, right?

This was one of the various problem in your current situation. Tech would always do things that were just on the line between “friends” and “more than friends”. He would go out of his way to do little things for you, he would share info and jokes and side comments with you that he never tried to share with brothers, he would blush when you complimented any of his work, he would stand just a little too close to you or let his touch linger just a little too long. He would suggest a sexual relationship that was highly statistically improbable to be successful.

And while Tech offered nothing but mixed signals, you took it a step further and let those mixed signals fester in your brain until you had warped them into one very clear signal: he liked you as more than a friend. You were so sure of it too. Why would he do all of those things if he didn’t like you like that? It’s not even like he treated you like some one night stand when he fucked you. He cared about making you feel good (usually it seemed like he cared more about you getting off than him), he would clean you up after and you always stayed the night together, cuddled and whispering late into the night about nothing and everything.

There was nothing friendly about your intimate nights together, come to think of it. Friends that just fucked would never treat each other so tenderly or lovingly. It’s not that completely unbelievable to think you would accidentally blurt out that you love him. Tech should have expected that.

But it was out there, unfortunately. You had committed the cardinal sin of being friends with benefits and you couldn’t take it back.

Tech’s brutal pace never faltered as he pumped in and out of you, your moans growing louder and louder as you began to approach your peak. He gazed down at you, locking eyes, and the emotion you could feel behind them was overwhelming. You could tell that he was close, with all the experience you had with him you knew his body better than your own, and he brought his hand up to softly caress your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe I get to see you like this,” he huffed out, brow furrowing as the rhythmic slamming of his hips against you brought him closer and closer to the edge.

At his words, you reached your climax, and as you came undone words of ecstasy slipped from your lips between wails of pleasure.

“Kriff Tech… ah…. Tech..fuck…I love you”

You didn’t even realize it at first, too caught up in the moment, but Tech did. His eyes grew impossibly wide, and he was finishing inside you before either of you could fully process what you had just said.

As you both came down from your high, the gravity of your admission settled between you. Tech pulled out and flopped down next to you wordlessly, and for a few minutes you both just stared at the ceiling in torturous silence. And then he got up and walked to the refresher, not even looking at you once, and you felt like that was all the confirmation you needed that you woefully misinterpreted your entire relationship with him.

You lept out of his bunk, threw your clothes on, and left as silently as possible, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. At least you could spare yourself the embarrassment of your words in that moment, and both of you could just forget it and move on.

Of course, you knew that pretending it didn’t happen would be impossible. You told him you loved him, and he said nothing. For several minutes. And then hid in the fresher. That was a clear rejection, and while it devastated you, you were still hoping that the two of you could just move on and be friends like you were before the benefits were added.

Apparently to Tech, you had offended him beyond repair. He never spoke to you (unless it was specifically mission oriented), he rarely looked at you or acknowledged your presence, and he positioned himself as far from you as possible at every opportunity. It had been two weeks since your slip up, and he hadn’t even made eye contact with you once.

It was agony. You missed him. You didn’t even really know what it was like to be on this squad without keeping him company while he made repairs or asking him questions about the next place you were going just to hear him talk. You missed making snide jokes with him. You missed admiring the way his goggles magnified his gorgeous caramel eyes.

The other boys noticed the shift very quickly. They had suspected the two of you had some sort of arrangement, and they knew how close you were, so to see it change so abruptly was concerning. Hunter had tried talking to you about it a few times, but you just reassured him that everything was fine and it was nothing he needed to worry about. Wrecker and Crosshair tried to pick up the slack, and started filling in the holes in your routine that Tech used to occupy. Crosshair would sit next to you in the mornings and during briefings, sometimes trying to make little comments in your ear like Tech would. On missions, Wrecker would always aim to pair up with you, and afterwards would try to do something fun like find a sweet treat or rent a good movie.

You appreciated so much what they did for you. But no matter how hard they tried, nothing could take your mind off the wall of ice Tech had built between you. You loved the other boys, but trying to share happy moments with them when all you could think about was how much better it would be with him was becoming unbearable. You didn’t want to leave them, but you couldn’t stay with Tech being so close to you and yet lightyears away.

As you filled out your transfer paperwork, you chuckled wryly to yourself. Even without the “trivial romance”, the squad was still disrupted. In a bittersweet way, it felt good for Tech to be wrong.

***

Tech had really done his best to analyze the evidence and make an informed decision based on his findings. He had been crunching his numbers with you since the day you joined the Batch, after all. Back then, it was the probability of your attraction to each of them. Tech was fascinated with you, and right off the bat he wanted to know his odds- just out of curiosity of course (for the record, they were pretty highly in his favor).

He knew there were pros and cons to the possibility of a relationship with you. First of all, it was technically against regulation for any clone to be involved in a romantic relationship. Second of all, it was likely that such a relationship would have the potential to cause countless rifts and points of weakness among his squad (regardless of the relationship’s success). Then there was also the very possible chance that the relationship wouldn’t work out anyway, leaving both of you hurt and irreparably damaging your friendship. As much as Tech may have wanted you, the costs unfortunately outweighed the benefits.

But then he kissed you at 79’s. And you kissed him back. And there he was, kissing you at 79’s, memorizing the sweetness of your lips on his. And he knew he should stop. He had studied the data and it’s conclusions were not very good, and if he had any sense at all he would stop. But he pulled away and looked at you, took in the flush on your cheeks and the dazed look accompanying your dilated pupils and the swell of your bruised lips. And he couldn’t bring himself to part ways with you. So he offered the closest thing to a relationship he could think of: friends with benefits.

A friends with benefits arrangement would be a more than adequate solution, Tech had decided. He could be physical with you in the proper moments, and then outside of those moments everything would be just as it was before. The squad’s dynamic and mission proficiency would remain consistent, and technically no regulations were being broken since they only specified romantic relationships. Of course, it wasn’t truly what he wanted, but in this arrangement he would get to enjoy you so much more than he currently was.

Unfortunately, he had made a critical oversight. In the dim haze of the club hallway, Tech had only considered how casual sex would compare to a full blown relationship. He didn’t think to analyze it singularly. And he certainly didn’t calculate the logistics of a friends with benefits agreement when one of the friends in question already had romantic feelings for the other friend.

But Tech knew himself. He knew he could have feelings for you and not let them get in the way. He could accept what he was able to have and make peace with what he couldn’t. Casual sex seemed like a good idea when his emotions were the only ones he took into account.

He wasn’t expecting you to fall in love with him.

When you had said it, Tech thought his heart was going to stop right then and there. In the heat of the moment, he couldn’t have imagined more precious words falling from your lips, and instantly it had him spiraling over the edge into ecstasy. But then the moment ended, and you didn’t say anything. He wanted to end the silence, to find out if you really meant it, but his brain was moving too fast to figure out what to say because he really hadn’t considered this would happen. It was naive of him, he supposed, but he really had thought the two of you could have done it without the emotional complications. Part of him, of course, was thrilled, but the other part of him, the logical part, was thrown into absolute chaos at the implications of your statement and what it would mean and all the statistics and probabilities he had calculated and

And you still hadn’t said anything. Tech could see you out of the corner of his eye, face red and chest heaving with emotion. You looked embarassed, regretful, and the realization that maybe you didn’t mean it hit him like a brick to the face. Maybe it was just something that slipped out, something your orgasm-addled mind had conjured up against your will and now you didn’t know how to take it back, didn’t know the right way to tell him you don’t actually love him.

It was too much for him to process at once, and he ran to the refresher in the hopes that he could clear his head and actually think coherently about the situation for a moment. Tech couldn’t have been in there long, maybe a few minutes, just long enough to splash some water on his face, look himself in the eye, and come to the conclusion that he needed to just have a conversation with you instead of playing with hypothetical numbers in his head. But then he came back out and you were gone, and that seemed like all the answer he needed. You didn’t mean it.

That was good, right? You didn’t mean it, and the two of you could keep going the way you had been.

But the ache in Tech’s heart said otherwise. You didn’t love him. He loved you, he knew he did, and he could be ok with pretending he didn’t when he didn’t know how you felt. But he knew now. And it hurt.

It hurt everytime he talked to you, so he stopped talking to you. It hurt everytime he was near you, so he stopped being near you. It hurt everytime he looked at you, so he stopped looking. The squad’s performance hadn’t been altered, so Tech concluded that the awkwardness could be tolerated until your presence didn’t feel so much like a blaster shot to his chest.

But just like pretty much every other choice Tech had made in regards to you, that plan only worked until it backfired horrifically.

***

The Batch were back on Kamino in between missions. Tech had been vaguely aware of Hunter being called in to a meeting of some sort, but he offered his full attention as Hunter stormed back into their room and huffed his way to Tech’s workbench.

“I don’t know what you did, but you need to fix things with Y/N. Now”

At the mention of your name, Tech pretended to return to his work, fiddling with a tool and avoiding eye contact.

“I do not know what you are referring-“

“Like hell you don’t Tech! The two of you haven’t even looked at each other in weeks and now they’ve put in a request to be transferred to another unit, so don’t tell me there’s nothing going on between you.”

Tech shot up, tools abandoned and stool knocked over with the force of his standing.

“They requested a transfer?”

“Yeah, they did. Now, I don’t know what happened, but I know your little silent treatment has been hurting them a lot. I don’t want to see them go, and you don’t either. So go talk to them and fix it, or I’ll have you transferred instead,” Hunter ordered, finger pointed at Tech’s chest. The threat was empty, of course, but it had fallen on deaf ears regardless.

Tech all but sprinted out into the hall, desperate to change your mind before you left them for good. As much as it pained him to be near you, the thought of being without you was somehow so much worse. He reached your quarters and unceremoniously burst in, barely giving the doors enough time to slide open before he was moving past them.

You jumped at his sudden entrance, hand coming up to clutch your chest.

“Maker, Tech you scared me!”

“Please don’t leave”

You stared at him, taking in his appearance for the first time. His chest was heaving, like he’d just run a marathon, and his eyes were frantic and impossibly wide behind his goggles. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so disheveled, even when you’d slept with him.

You wanted to look away, but you were conscious of the fact that this was the first time you had made eye contact in Maker knows how long and you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Tech, I-I can’t stay with the way things are. I’m sorry about what I said, I know it was just supposed to be a friend thing and I shouldn’t have fallen in love with you. I really tried not to, but I did and I ruined everything and you can’t even look at me anymore so how can I-“

Tech took step closer, cutting off your rambling as his brow furrowed.

“You fell in love with me?”

He spoke so quietly, it was barely above a whisper. You nodded, confused at his surprised considering the whole issue was that you told him you loved him and he didn’t feel the same. That was the issue, right?

You could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears as he tried to process what was happening.

“I thought… I thought you didn’t mean it”

Now it was your turn to be confused.

“Why would you think that?”

“Y-you didn’t say anything. You confessed your affections for me while in a compromised state and didn’t say anything else afterwards. Your body language indicated regret and-and you left. I concluded that you said it by accident, and did not actually mean it,” he explained as calmly as he could in his rattled state.

“I left because I told you I loved you and you locked yourself in the fresher! And then you wouldn’t talk to me so I figured you were mad at me because I have feelings for you and you don’t feel the same way!”

Tech’s face broke out in a huge grin, and just as you were about to ask him why he was so happy all of a sudden, he rushed forward and passionately slotted his lips against yours. You gasped into him before immediately reciprocating the kiss, and you tangled your hands in his hair as his fingers desperately clutched your hips. Of all the kisses you had shared with him, none had felt the way this one did. There was an emotion pouring into it, one that had always been on the verge of spilling over but never had before. Eventually you broke apart, and you cursed your lungs for needing air.

He leaned his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath, and broke the silence after a few moments.

“I love you, too. I have for a significant amount of time. When you left that night, I incorrectly assumed you did not share my affections. I avoided you after because I… I was hurt. I apologize for misinterpreting your actions, and for allowing you to think that I was upset with you. I assure you, that could not be further from reality.”

You laughed giddily, bumping his nose with yours as you relished in his confession.

“If you loved me, why did you just want to be friends with benefits?”

Tech blushed and look down, a sheepish look overtaking his features.

“Well, I performed a cost-benefit analysis on engaging in a romantic relationship, and the potential complications were too great. A platonic sexual partnership offered a less risky alternative. Although, I must admit that I failed to properly calculate the possible outcomes of such an agreement between two individuals in our specific situation,” he elaborated.

“We might be the two dumbest people in the galaxy,” you joked with a giggle.

“Technically, it is statistically impossible for that to be true, given-“

You cut him off with another deep kiss, your hands coming to rest on his arms as they kept you in his iron-clad grip. He had never loosened his hold, as though he thought if he let you go, you would disappear.

Abruptly, the kiss ended as Tech pulled back slightly to look at you.

“Does this mean you are no longer transferring out of our squad?”

You grinned.

“That depends. Does this mean we can have a real relationship, not just sex?”

Tech brought one hand to rest on his jaw as he looked upwards and pretended to be deep in thought.

“Well, according to my calculations, we have already experienced nearly all of the possible complications of pursuing a romantic relationship, so I have no objection to enjoying some of the benefits,” he concluded with a playful smile.

You leaned up to kiss him again, pausing just before your lips made contact with his to make a sly comment.

“And we know how good we are at some of those benefits already”

#the bad batch #bad batch #tbb #tbb tech #tech tbb #the bad batch tech #tech the bad batch #tbb tech x reader #tech x reader #the bad batch tech x reader #tech x y/n #tech x you #the bad batch x reader

[sukirichi]

earned it [04]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. DARK CONTENT, graphic violence, mentions of blood, explicit murder, sexual violence, angst, tw dubcon, mentions of mass murder, death threats, cheating, implications of suicide, typical mafia business + very unedited (please PLEASE read at your own discretion! if you do not wish to proceed to read because of the aforementioned warnings but want to know what happened anyway, please drop into my asks and i’ll retell it in a much less graphic version!)

chapter song. never forget you (zara larsson, mnek)

series masterlist

Death.

The stench of it reeked everywhere. Blood pooled at the ends of your dress, the warm liquid dripping from your fingers. You couldn’t see what was in front of you, not when your vision had been obscured black, painted red with everyone’s lifeless eyes staring back emptily at you and carrying an ominous message behind words that never had the chance to be spoken.

Satoru was gone.

You ran through flights of stairs as you bunched your dress up, dried blood present on your cheek. The gray cemented walls of this unknown building began to close down on you, suffocating you, trapping you – and then there he was. Your lover, your world, your everything – he stood on top of a pile of bodies, his face as grim as the deaths he’s caused, but that wasn’t what stood out from the scene. It was the fact you couldn’t recognize him anymore; the man before you was nothing else but the devil incarnate himself. Then, just as you ran his way, fingers outstretched to grasp at his shirt, Satoru disappeared.

He was gone.

A scream ripped out your throat as you scrambled for the sheets, pulling them up in a haste to shield yourself. The images were now gone, but that fear kept drumming into you, gloops of blood making its way through your room’s white exterior.

It’s not real, it’s not real – Satoru’s arms snaked over to your side, his eyes droopy from being woken up. You would’ve apologized, knowing he never really got proper sleep, but you were already wrapping your arms around yourself, gaze repeatedly darting back to the walls – to check for bodies, for blood, for death, for him.

“Hey,” Satoru drew you close to him until your head fell on his chest. Out of instinct, you flattened your ear above where his heartbeat rested. Thump thump – he was real, he was safe, alive – he wouldn’t do that. Satoru wasn’t that kind of person. You clung to him like a koala and mumbled incoherently at the skin of his neck, clutching his shirt so tight it wrinkled horribly. Satoru merely littered kisses all over the crown of your head to soothe you, although he was not free to this fear you felt; he was just as nervous for an unknown reason. “Angel, what’s wrong?”

“You-you were leaving—”

“Shh, angel, I’m not, I’m here,” he wrapped you closer to his body, the sheets still warm and smelling like him as if to add reassurance to his words. “You’re alright. I’m here, angel, it’s okay.”

“I was going to die,” you quivered. It had only been a fleeting moment when you saw it, but you were there too. Dressed in white, arms covered in lace and a crown adorning your head; it seemed as if you were meant to be on top of the bodies, and Satoru sat upon it like a throne. It transitioned from being the witness to being the victim in a minute and your chest squeezed so hard you choked out, “I was dying, baby.”

“You’re not going to die. No one’s going to hurt you, you understand?” Satoru cupped your cheeks to force you to look him in the eye. “I’m going to keep you safe no matter what. Not leaving your side, angel, that’s a promise.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I would never do that,” he nodded before he raised your pinky. Satoru looped both your fingers and kissed the conjoined form, not once leaving your gaze the whole time. “I promise,” he whispered, foreheads touching and breaths mingling. Like one soul intertwined, you once mused, feeling yourself get lost in the depth of azure pools he harboured. “There’s nowhere to go without you anyway; you’re the greatest gift in my life. I’d do anything for you.”

“Don’t leave me. Please.”

“I won’t, angel. I never will.”

And you believed that. Like the fool you were, you really believed that.

The bank loomed over you, its mere presence impending and bringing about a wave of discomfort to you. Awkwardly, you stepped inside, hiding your face in your hair to conceal the nausea threatening to urge you to throw up. You couldn’t help but survey the entire area out of instant wariness, holding tighter to your phone.

Seeing as there was no line, you sat on the nearest open window. “Hi, uhm…I recently got transferred this money from…an old friend, you could say,” you informed with furrowed brows, fishing your phone out of your pocket as you logged into your account. The whole time, your hands turned sweaty and the phone nearly slipped from your grasp out of anxiety. The woman assisting you flashed you a sympathetic smile, patient and kind enough to listen to your small voice through the glass. “I lost contact with them so I can’t return it. I was wondering if maybe you could help me rewind the transaction?”

“Oh, we can definitely do that Ma’am, may I see?” Nodding, you handed her your phone. In an instant, the polite smile fell from her lips, altering into a nervous one the next. “Oh…” she blinked back at the digits, clearly overwhelmed from the amount of zeroes. Dropping her voice, she leaned closer to you, “Do you…do you know the account owner personally?”

“Yes,” you admitted, “Well, I used to.”

“And they wired you all this?”

“About two weeks ago, yeah.”

The employee sat there for a full minute, possibly contemplating how to go about this. It didn’t set well with you – that mysterious, almost suspicious smile she had – that you debated whether just asking for your phone back. “Excuse me for a moment. I think I should take this to the higher-ups,” she announced while scanning the bank with narrowed eyes, leaving before you could have a say in it.

The next minutes that passed had never felt more gruelling.

You sat there with a frantic heart, your jeans damp from the countless times you’ve wiped your hand on it. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. People came in for their own agendas, the hushed ‘inside voice’ as faint as ever, then they left. Repeat. End of conversation.

It was just another normal, boring day for everyone else – but not for you.

“Miss?” a voice pulled you away from your thoughts. A half-bald man was now standing before you, the previous employee you’d been talking to right behind him, her head ducked down. Manager, his tag read, which made sense. He gestured for you to come inside the back parts of the bank, and you gripped your purse tighter as you followed them.

The inside wasn’t that special or different from the outside. There were lesser chairs but bigger, brighter white walls. His office was located right in the middle where the female employee closed the glass doors behind you, silent and timid as she prepared you tea. Meanwhile, you sat there with your hands wrung in your lap, stomach already falling from the grim expression he wore. “About the funds, I’m afraid we can’t do anything about this transaction. While it had been transferred you, neither us nor the bank has the authorization to do anything about this. Whoever sent it to you is the only one that can either take it back or liquidize it,” he pushed his glasses back to his face, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “I’m afraid we can’t help you with this, Miss, we’re really sorry—”

“No!” you slammed your palms on the desk, “No, I don’t want the money, wire it back to him!”

“Miss, we already told you, it’s out of control—”

You shook your head. This wasn’t real – Satoru had to be joking! He couldn’t just give you this and disappear into thin air! In fact, you never even cared for the money; you were just hoping that maybe you’d find a way back to him if nothing but digits was the only thing left to prove he even existed. Desperation clawed its way through your throat as you fell on your knees, helpless tears streaming down your face. “Please, you have to do something, I don’t want the money, I just want him back, please! I just need to talk to him once more and he’s your client, right? Let me talk to him, I know you have contact with him, Sir, please, I’m begging you—”

“Security!” the manager hollered. The sounds of doors slamming open made you stand up straight, eyes wide at the incoming pairs of guards ready to escort you out. “It’s best you schedule a personal appointment with the account owner, Miss. We also suggest you remain on the down-low instead of causing a ruckus like this. You don’t know who’s going to be grabbing at every opportunity to take what was given to you.”

“Everything’s been taken away from me!” you argued back, walking around the desk to clasp the manager’s hand. He pulled away for a moment before you squeezed his hands, the tearing of your heart too painful to bear. You just wanted to see him. “Come on, please, I don’t care about the money, I just—”

They didn’t let you finish. Just like Satoru, just like everybody else, they discarded you to the side, treated you like you were a nobody who didn’t deserve a second chance.

“Escort her out, please.”

And just like that, your fate had been decided. No...perhaps it had been determined the moment he left, and now you walked blearily along the narrowed gaps between buildings, unable to find your way back home.

Where was home anyway? Your penthouse with Satoru? Your cramped dorm back at the university? Your empty flat that had once been a happy home with your parents before they too, left you behind with nothing but a family portrait as a memory? It was pathetic. You meant nothing. Obviously, no one valued you enough, not even Satoru who’d just given you enough to let you live comfortably for the rest of your life. But no matter how much he provided, it wasn’t what you wanted. It wouldn’t bring back the one thing you wanted most, and you fell on the rough pavement, too tired to care about the stinging of your palms.

You clutched at your heart in a debilitated attempt to soothe way your chest squeezed uncomfortably. You were literally in the middle of the nowhere, trapped between the walls that hid you in the darkness and muffled your cries.

He’d left – he really left.

He didn’t keep his promise, and your nightmare had now become reality. You had to bite down your shirt to keep the agony to yourself, nails dug so deep into your jeans it left a mark above your skin. Hours passed, maybe minutes – who knew?

The sun had gone down and the streets grew busier than before, the honking and lively bustling of the night city like background noise to you.

Your key back to the penthouse weighed heavily at your back pocket. There was still the option of just going back home, but what good would that do? Everywhere you went, you were reminded of him. There was no escaping the beautiful memories he left you with, there was no exit from his miserable dream you were forced to wake up into.

Nothing mattered anymore. You felt so lost, the motivation to find your way back depleted just like your energy. You only had your bodily instincts to thank for when your stomach grumbled, demanding to be fed and nurtured even in such a hopeless situation. It made you want to laugh – that even as your heart and soul gave up on you – your body was doing its best to keep you alive and get through the day. You heaved yourself away from the wall and wiped the dirt away from your palms, the rhythm of your feet one heavy clump next to the other.

There was a nice Chinese restaurant at the end of the street that glowed brightly, invitingly. If you could just have dinner, maybe you’d feel better.

But you never got three steps across.

A cold blade had been pressed to your neck, sinister laughter echoing from the darkness of the night. “Scream and you die, sweetheart,” a gruff voice crooned in your ear, followed by a more high-pitched, maniacal chuckles. There was two of them. Fear lit your nerves up and you scrambled to run, but this man was too strong. He didn’t even have to try too much into increasing pressure to your neck, slicing the first layers of your skin that was enough to prick both blood and tears from you. “Ah, ah, ah! Resisting won’t get you anywhere. We just want to talk, okay? No foul play needed.”

You shut your eyes in submission, too afraid to even swallow the bile rising in case the movement would push the knife further. You could only let out a weak, “What do you want from me?”

“Oh, what else?” said his accomplice, showing up in front of you with a creepy smile. He tipped his head side to the side, revealing the silver replacements of his teeth that glinted under the streetlights. “You got his hidden slush fund, didn’t you?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t need to lie, we saw you leave that bank. Plus, everyone’s been talking about it!” cheered the guy behind you, pushing you forwards with his blade finally withdrawn. You stumbled on your feet as they pointed to the nearest ATM. For a moment, you contemplated making a run for it. The ATM was only a few kilometres away from the Chinese restaurant and you could be safe if you run fast enough, but you were too obvious, the deceit written all over your face. The first guy then pressed a gun against your head, a silent reminder that you were the weaker one here. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, “Now you’ll withdraw it little by little, okay? We just want a piece of it, a fraction of it is enough to last us a lifetime.”

Exhaling deeply, you raised your hands in surrender. “I can’t withdraw it.”

“The fuck did you say?”

“I said I can’t withdraw it! I don’t have access—”

“Bullshit, bitch, you’ve got so much of it, just give to us before we kill you,” he cocked his gun, his friend following suit and retrieving a pistol from his belt. Your lips quivered at the sight of two guns aimed at your way, but you remained firm in your spot, shaking your head at them. The man’s eyes darkened, displeased by your response. He narrowed his eyes at you before nodding to his friend.

“Fuck this man, she’s a selfish cunt. Take her phone and her belongings.”

“No, please, don’t—”

It was too late. They had pushed you on the ground, your bum throbbing from the fall. The second guy rummaged your pockets before pulling out your wallet, jaw dropping from the contents. “Fuck,” he exclaimed, flashing a Polaroid you had kept the whole time. “This you and Six Eyes?”

Your heart fell.

It was a photo of you and Satoru on your first anniversary where he’d whisked you off to a sky tower, arrogantly declaring that he’d make you experience the best date ever.

He wasn’t lying – his arrangement of fireworks and a romantic date in the sky really had been the best – and he’d snapped a picture of you then, sneakily landing a kiss on your cheek while you gasped at the display of fireworks before you.

Just seeing it felt like torture all over again, and the thief snickered at your tear stained face. “Oh, I see. You’re his whore, aren’t you? Everyone called it bullshit when word got around Six Eyes had a little angel hidden somewhere around here. I gotta say though, you are a pretty thing. Makes sense you got him pussy whipped.”

“Whoever Six eyes fucks – especially someone he liked enough to pay this much – that is fine meat, man,” the other muttered more to himself. His eyes then lit up with a thought, the smirk tugging at his lips screaming trouble. “It’d be a shame to not have a taste.”

You paled. Scrambling as much as you could with sore legs, you pushed their arms away from you. “Let go of me!” you cried out, kicking harder when they’ve discarded their guns and focused on carrying you instead. Everything muted that night except for the pounding of your heart as you struggled to get away from them, arms flailing the moment one of them yanked your shirt down to expose your bra. “Don’t fucking touch me, let go!”

It must be luck that your punch landed on his nose, a sickening crack resonating in the street. All of you remained still, with you flattening your back on the wall, arms protectively sheltering your chest and the pair staring at the other guy’s broken nose.

He winced at seeing blood on his fingers, “Oh, you’re just asking for it bitch,” he snarled, snapping his fingers to get his friend’s attention and pointing at you. “Grab her leg.”

Both of them made quick work. It all happened so fast you couldn’t tell which was who anymore. Your shirt had been ripped off; the straps of your bra tugged down to free a nipple while your arms had been knocked into the building behind you. One of them kept you immobile, their grips too strong and their bodies twice your size that you were easily overpowered. You never cried so hard in your life – not even when you realized Satoru had left – and your throat ached from how much you wept.

“Stop, no, let go of me!”

“Shut her the fuck up, bruh,” the man unzipping your jeans scowled, his fingers playing with the waistband of your underwear. You sobbed and screamed, fought hard as much as you could, but you were too weak. Too vulnerable. Too pathetic.

Maybe it was just better to let go.

Maybe it was just better to stop.

Your shoulders fell as they shimmied your jeans down your hips, each and every inch of your body no longer yours. Was this how you would die? Was this how you would finish? If so, you would’ve appreciated at least one last dinner.

You were about to close your eyes the moment you heard the sounds of a man’s belt unbuckling, too lost in your own horror that you failed to hear the screeching of tires, and neither did they. And then, like a light at the end of the tunnel, like an angel dropping from the heavens – gunshots rang through the air. Blood splattered to your cheek. Heavy bodies crunched against the ground.

He’d come back.

Except it wasn’t Satoru leaning in front of a car when you opened your eyes. The man stood a few inches shorter, blond shaggy hair falling just above his eyebrows, the ends dyed black. His body was tilted to the side, half of his weight shifted on a cane upon closer look, but you were mostly captivated in his eyes. He showed no malice intent; hell, he didn’t even spare a glance at the corpses with holes between their eyes, silently blowing the smoke away from his barrel like this was a common thing for him.

He had his eyes on you, uncaring of the fact you were half-naked before him since his attention remained on your face.

“So it’s true,” he mused, “I didn’t believe at first when they said Six Eyes really gave the notes to his girl. A commoner, no less,” he limped towards you, feline-eyes slanted to inspect you. “But nothing about you is common, is there? To get the demon to soften up…you really must be something else,” his gloved hands ran a finger down to your jaw, and you shut your eyes tight, leaning away from his touch. The man clicked his tongue at your reactions but withdrew his hand anyway, stepping a few feet away from you to give you space. “Don’t be so scared. You and I are not that different. We’re both just poor victims of facing the consequences of his actions,” he tapped his cane at your shoes, his face devoid of expression. “Stand up. You won’t get anywhere by crying. You need to learn how to fight.”

You swung the door open, ready to finally get the shoes you’ve been gushing to Naoya about for days. But you were met with nothing but a tuft of white hair, blood smattered on his cheeks, and lips crashing down onto yours. Satoru pinned you against the wall in the same manner he held you on that day he left, his kisses harsh and longing while you moaned into his mouth, legs turning into jelly.

“Angel,” he rasped into your mouth, grinding his boner to the thin material of your night gown. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

Satoru forced his tongue past your lips and kept you close to him, his intoxicating scent tempting you to give in and enjoy it already. For a split second, you faltered, kissing him back with the love you once harboured for him, but then you blanked.

This was Satoru.

You were married to Naoya.

He’d began to leave kisses at your jawline when you pulled back, landing a sharp elbow right at his head. Satoru fell on the floor and you panted above him as you tried to make yourself decent. Fuck, that hurt like a bitch. You had to roll your shoulders back to get rid of the tension as you made the mental note to train in combat harder, pinching the bridge of your noise before you summoned the servants.

Satoru was knocked out for a solid hour. You found it funny that the infamous omnipotent Six Eyes was now sprawled all over your couch, soft snores emitting from his lips. He’d been pretty unresponsive to you so ice far, not even a budge as you iced the bruise you’d left on his face.

You sighed. His shirt was stained with blood, the pads of his knuckles matted with wounds and bruises. You couldn’t help yourself from brushing his hair away from his eyes, humming a little until his eyes cracked open. Satoru stared at the ceiling before his eyes landed on you hovering before him, your touch gentle in paradox to the heat of your gaze. “What are you doing here, Satoru?” you sighed, gesturing to the mess he had on his shirt. “Where have you been?”

“In a fight.”

“No shit,” you rolled your eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

“I-I don’t know. I just…I lost it for a moment and—”

“Do I want to know why?”

“It’s stupid,” he mumbled to himself and faced the couch. Even after seven years, he was still very much the petty kid at heart. You could confidently bet he was pouting right now, and you crossed your leg over the other, hiding a small smile behind your palm. “I overheard one of my men making a sleazy comment that Naoya’s wife looked like a bitch who would jump at every alpha male,” Satoru grumbled, prying for your reaction by looking across his shoulder. “I don’t know what came over me after that.”

“Did you kill them?”

“Almost,” he scrunched his nose, “Then I pictured your face. Maybe you wouldn’t want me to do that.”

“So you care about what I want now?”

Satoru shut his eyes. Of course you’d never stop bringing that up – both to your demises – since you were both a sadist who didn’t mind receiving pain every now and then. Five years of marriage with Naoya taught you to be resilient to all types of pain, the experiences and horrors you’ve lived through practically making you immune to them now. Satoru, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be on the same boat as you. He sat up, his hips flushed next to your thighs, burying his hands on his head. “Angel, about everything... are we not going to talk about what happened before?”

“Is there anything to talk about?” you deadpanned, surprising the guy who widened his eyes at you. Surely, he must be expecting a different form of hatred coming from you, but you were indifferent – numb, empty. “The past is in the past, Satoru. You know better than anyone else it’s easier to just walk away.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” you faked a smile, placing your chin on your hands while blinking up at him under innocent eyes. Naoya once told you that your attitude of being unbothered bothered a lot more people, and it was a technique you’ve loved ever since. Seeing Satoru crumble before you...nothing felt more satisfying. “For barging in here or for kissing me? Maybe both?”

“For everything,” he answered brokenly, “For all the pain I’ve put you through.”

“Do you think apologies are going to suddenly eradicate that?”

“…No.”

“Then I don’t need it,” you taunted, patting his thigh as you stood up, tying the knots of your robe safer this time. You couldn’t be bothered to wear underwear beneath them; if Satoru tried laying his hands on you again, you wouldn’t hesitate to cut his fingers off, and the plain sight of a dagger now strapped in your thigh was enough of a reminder for him. He made sure to keep his distance.

“Come with me. I’ll show you what we’ve been working on,” Satoru’s footsteps were silent as you led him past the secret doors hidden behind Naoya’s study, the room leading into an even bigger part of the house that stored most of your possessions. Satoru let out an awed gasp behind you once the lights and slight whirs of the machine buzzed through the room, chemicals bubbling from one side and little pills being packaged on the other. Your face lit up in a smile from the sheer pride of your hard work, arms extended to the side to present everything. “This is mostly where we manufacture Xenet. All of this – it’s mine. My personal little laboratory, or as Naoya calls it, my playroom,” you grinned, “I feel at peace here.”

“Making drugs?”

“Being safe,” you corrected with a roll of your eyes, “Acting like I’m normal. That gives me peace.”

Satoru was hot on your heels all the way to the main laboratory, where you’d pestered him into wearing safety gloves before entering. You donned a white coat from the blast of AC that enraged goosebumps, leading him in front of a huge clear wall that formulated Xenet’s pure creation. Stacks of purple powder lined up on layers all kept inside a cooling room, and you stepped to the side, muttering to yourself while checking today’s inventory like it was totally normal to manufacture illegal drugs inside your home.

You would’ve looked domestic if Satoru wasn’t feeling the slightest bit dizzy from the drug-coated atmosphere; one that you’d gotten resistant from.

“What brought you here?” Satoru voiced out, shaking his head to himself. He looked terribly devastated, cheeks sunken and dark circles lining his eyes. “I never thought...”

“That I’d be like you?” you finished for him. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you smiled at Satoru and pushed past him to list down your observations for today. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not like Naoya; I’m not a mass murderer.”

“But you’re supporting him.”

“He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him,” you paused in your tracks, the spite evident in your tongue. “If you hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t have to be like this. There are thousands of people after me because you named me after that account. Other than Naoya, there’s really no other reason I’m still alive and breathing,” Satoru was speechless from your confession, which was good, since you didn’t want him chatting too much in the first place. You ignored him as you continued typing notes on your monitor, acting unaffected, but the way you punched through the keys told a different story. “This is the least I could do for him. In exchange of protection, I’ll be sharing my intelligence and give him what he wants.”

“Doesn’t it sicken you that we’re like this? That we do all this – for money, power, control – without the slightest bit of conscience?” Satoru scoffed, “You’ve been married for him a long time. I know you’re not a stranger to the fact we even enjoy this.”

You stopped your task, turning to Satoru with flared nostrils. “You know, Satoru, painting yourself as a demon to look like a victim won’t make me sympathize,” you spat out, absolutely losing it. “I don’t care what you’ve been doing before you met me. I don’t care that you killed or hurt people. I’m not the slightest bit of the angel you claim me to be because if I was as pure as that, don’t you think I would’ve stopped loving you?”

Everything crumbled to dust.

Years of convincing yourself you didn’t care anymore, years of healing yourself, years of working hard to forget him – and all crumbled to dust.

“What are you—”

“I knew!” you cut him off, “I knew everything. I’m not dumb, Satoru. No matter how much you tried to hide it back then, I saw the blood stains. I could smell the alcohol. I know drugs when I see it,” Satoru took a step back in surprise, but you kept going. Now that you’ve started it, you might as well finish it, and your eyes pricked with tears before you could stop it. “But I never cared. I was selfish – blinded by love. Back then, I told myself I didn’t care who you were because I loved you unconditionally,” You were breathing hard from finally releasing that damn fucking weight off your shoulders, your resolve breaking as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand while Satoru remained frozen. “Every night, I cried myself to sleep. I always asked myself why did it have to be you? Why did you have to be that way? Why did you have to be a monster? It broke me to no end, Satoru, but every time I tried to think of you as awful, you would hold me so close that it felt like everything was a lie,” your voice faltered, “I loved you in spite of everything you’ve done. I’m just selfish like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried, “Many times...I turned a blind eye to it. I didn’t want to force something out of you because I knew you weren’t ready, but I was always waiting, Satoru,” gesturing to the both of you, Satoru watched your frantic movements. “Did you think I didn’t mean it when I said I would love you no matter what – no matter who you might be? I meant every word of it. You didn’t have to leave me because I would’ve still left everything behind if you asked me to go with you. I don’t care anymore, I never did. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Angel...” he trailed off, debating whether to hold you or just stay put. Satoru chose the latter and ran his hands over his hair, breathing hard as he, too, wavered. “I was scared. Each time I see your face, I-I can’t help but think about losing you. It haunts me every fucking night that what if I’m not strong enough? What if I couldn’t protect you?” his voice broke, “You were the only good thing in my life. I couldn’t handle losing you just because you got too close.”

You shoved him hard. “That’s no fucking excuse! You told me – y-you told me that I made you feel strong, that I gave you hope, that I made you feel like nothing could stand in your way – so don’t stand there and fucking tell me you were scared!”

Satoru kept taking a step back from the force of your hits, and he took them all with a brave face, but it seemed that he too had reached his limit as you leered, “Don’t be a fucking coward!”

“It’s because I loved you!” Satoru gripped your wrists and tugged you to him, effectively taking the ability to speak away from you. “My whole life, I got everything I wanted and things were easy for me! I don’t know what it’s like to lose something because I had control of everything except you! I didn’t want you stuck and burdened with my sins all for the sake of something as greed!” he bellowed, his forehead connected with yours and the warmth of his body more than welcoming. “I am a greedy man, angel, I would take everything I want with no hesitation but I couldn’t do it with you. It was easier to let you go,” he mumbled, “Than to regret making you unhappy by revealing my true self. Because the way you looked at me – you loved me so much I don’t think I’m worthy of it,” Satoru trudged closer to you, almost rubbing his skin over your soft ones just to say, “I don’t deserve you.”

You pulled away from him.

You’d tore open every chance of reconciliation. And if you were to be honest? You didn’t regret it.

“You’re right,” you snickered sarcastically, “You really don’t deserve me. Here I thought maybe Naoya would be the weaker of the two of you, but he’s more of a man than you are, Satoru. Naoya never gave an excuse for anything – it didn’t matter whether he was capable of something or not – he always tried to the best of his ability. He’s not the type to give up before he’s even tried it,” You knew you were just pushing his buttons, this was much clear from how Satoru was holding himself back, but you couldn’t stop. You were unstoppable, harsh as you challenged your once lost lover who had now wound up before you once more.

“If you truly loved me and felt you didn’t deserve me, then don’t you think you should’ve tried harder?”

You wanted him to regret it. You wanted him to feel your pain a thousand times more. You wanted him to realize what he’d done wrong. But most of all, you wanted him to try harder, to redeem himself, to be worthy of a second chance.

But just like how he’d broken your heart before, Satoru did it again.

Because even after every fucking thing, the only thing he was capable of saying was: “I’m sorry, Angel.”

You’d grown too tired of apologies. But because it was him, because you loved him, then you’d fucking hear it all over again. Just try, you wanted to beg, try for me, Satoru.

“Your plans will continue to fail, Satoru,” you agonized, “You never protected me. The moment you left, my life turned to hell and I almost died way too many times for me to count. This time is no different. We’re all just pawns in the Zen’in’s game, so if you really want both of us to live, you should do your part,” Sighing, you turned away from him, just about ready to call it a night. You were too tired. “Give back the money to Naoya, and he’ll keep me safe until the end of it all. You can just go back to where you came from.”

“Naoya won’t stand a chance against Toji. It’s not his money anyway, he should give it back to his cousin—”

“And neither is it yours!”

“Don’t be fucking stupid, you see the flaw of his plans too!” Satoru gestured to your lab, to everything that you proudly claimed an effort of your hard work. “Even if I gave back everything to Naoya, it won’t stop Toji from anything! He might not kill you anymore, but he’ll definitely kill your husband and take over the mafia, or his kid, then where will you go?”

“Follow him into death like the good wife I am.”

Satoru was stunned by the lack of hesitance in your answer. “You’re serious about this,” he echoed, blinking back to process the gravity of your devotion to your husband. “Even if Toji somehow dies, it doesn’t change the fact Naoya will still proceed with plans to manipulate Japan to his will. He’s going to drug everyone until he’s at the top of the food chain. Your husband doesn’t want to be a businessman; he wants to be a god. Plus, he doesn’t care about you, he’s only using you!”

“Like I said,” you smiled weakly,  “He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him. Once he gets everything he wants, it’s game over.”

“No...” Satoru gritted his teeth, “No, I won’t let it happen. You’re not going anywhere; you’re not going to die!”

“So then protect me!” you shouted at his face, “Do what it is you never got to do before and protect me! I’m disposable, don’t you see? No matter what I do, no matter where I go, no matter how loyal I am to him, I am nothing! Each step I take forwards is just a step closer to my prolonged death!” you spewed word for word with so much venom Satoru felt like he was choking, but it was nothing in comparison as you fell on the floor, weeping with your fists pressed against your eyes. “If you hadn’t left me...I wouldn’t have to live fearing for my life every second. So protect me, Satoru. If you really want me to forgive you, at least save me this once.”

“I will, angel,” he promised – and how many more promises had he made, only to break them? You couldn’t be blamed for not believing him, for finding wariness in his words, for flinching a little bit as he crouched before you, cupping your cheek the same way he did before. “I promise you that. I’m never leaving, never gonna leave your side ever again.”

“You better not,” you chuckled darkly, eventually giving in from his touch.

Yes, he’d left you...yes, he’d hurt you – but until now it felt like home, even if it also conflicted with the fact this was wrong.

“My only wish is that when I die, I want to die without hating you,” you muttered with your lips hovering his, your breaths tangling and his hands finding its way to your hair. “So don’t make me hate you anymore, Satoru. Grant me peace before I leave.”

“You’re not going to die,” he closed his eyes and took the first leap of faith by grazing his lips with yours, a faint glimmer of the sweetness he once had the pleasure of savouring with each waking moment of his life. But he was stupid back then – he’d be even more stupid to not learn his lesson this time around.

“I won’t let that happen, you understand?” Satoru breathed out, “You will be safe. You will live.”

He had said it so confidently, so surely, that for a moment, you believed it. You believed maybe you’d really win this round and come out unscathed, to live, to survive – even if the chances were slim to none to begin with. For now, you didn’t want to be a mafia leader’s wife, nor did you want to be another’s broken lover. You just wanted to be someone who didn’t want to die, to find comfort in the empty promises from the same man who kept breaking and breaking them, and maybe for now, that was enough.

Without another thought, not even the image of Naoya’s smile, you let it go.

You pulled Satoru close to you and kissed him hard and deep, swallowing his surprised moan with that exact same greediness, that desperation to live. You knew the moment Naoya came back or Toji found you, everything would be game over. So for now, this was enough.

A/N. SOOOOO? THOUGHTS? THEORIESSSSS? DO WE HAVE A TEAM NAOYA HERE OR IS IT JUST ME HAHAHAHAHA

taglist OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sixeyesgojo @shingekiyofeels @q-the-rockaholic @whatthefuckisthatthing @rogueofbullshit @kat-su-ki @kellyyween @sebootyforlife @greysoulthings @charlie-xo @aoi-turtle @ladywaifuuwrites @savantsoulfinder @my-reality-is-in-my-head @hannya-quinn @90s-belladonna​ @tinyfrogsinmybrain @kinekyuroo​ @evesmores​ @ambiguous-something​ @lilith412426​ @kakashiharusohma @aizawap​ | bolded users cannot be tagged ://

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo-satoru-x-reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo satoru imagine #gojo x reader imagines #gojo satoru imagines #gojo x reader angst #gojo x reader romance #gojo satoru x reader romance #gojo satoru x reader angst #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru romance #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen romance #jujutsu kaisen x reader romance #jujutsu kaisen series #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #sukirichi: earned it

[visibleclosedeyes]

Angle 1

(accidentally deleted it prematurely...)

type: Multi chapters

pairing: sevika x OC

The lodgings

It was going to happen. Sevika was certain of it. She could understand Vander and what he was trying to achieve but also–being sane enough–Sevika realized this will never work with the enforcers. The woman has known defeats, pain, and loss, just like everyone else in the lanes. On that day that the news of the enforcers' threats spread all over Zaun, she gathered just like many others at The Last Drop. They wanted those fucking brats of his, Vander needs to do something about that and the only two options were surrender or conflict. Oh, Sevika was fucking ready on that day to fight for Zaun, to fight off those who ripped everything from her not even a decade ago.

But then Vander talked to all of them, and the air quickly was poisoned by the bitterness that also plagued a lot of people in that bar. Some guy said the truth straight to his face, something along the line of ‘you can’t protect them forever,’.  He covered their asses too much and now it came right back to bite everybody's asses off, but respect was given; Sevika could get the idea of protecting your family. If he was gonna fight, then Sevika was in. But that wasn’t what happened. He ordered them to stand still and do nothing while the enforcers were gonna roll them all over. Fucking what now? Oh, she remembered how it went down. ‘Do I look scared? ‘No, you look weak,’ Even with her left arm gone, she was still gonna choose this part all over again. Because she was right, Vander was weak. Sooner or later, he would get them all killed.

“ Fuck !” Sevika screams into the dark void of her own room. Silco doesn’t ask for her yet; looks at how incapable she is now. She took the blow for him, obviously, it was a stupid decision but not without a reason. Silco, unlike Vander, has what it takes to actually do something for Zaun. Her room is dimly lit—makes the arsenic deep green, and the wallpaper looks even more depressing than it already is. The couch she’s laying on is barely acting as a comfort, its cushion was non-existing while the nails below it threaten to come out and sink into her flesh anytime.

This place isn’t near The Last Drop. It is a cheap, run-down lodging almost near the edge of Zaun—the opposite of this building is the dock overlooking the darkness of the undercity's lowest street. The street outside of her window, at night,  was often cloaked with dust clouds (or mist, but this is Zaun so it’s probably dust cloud) away from the main part of the city. It’s just your typical small district that has a sizable group of people sometimes but mostly left quite deserted. In the dead of the night, however, there might be a shady man or woman waiting for someone to hand over their shady packages. Sometimes she would hear laughter, sometimes cries, and many times beatings. Well, not that she knows when exactly it is day or night anyway.

That window is placed at the opposite of where she’s at. The only way to let Sevika connect with the outside world. This square room of depression isn’t so unbearable as the warmth of sunshine and the soft ray of moonlight always peer through the shoddy window. Not everything is bad, huh?

“ Ugh,” but the consistent massive pain from having her arm literally burnt to bits. Sevika isn’t dying anytime soon but the overwhelming agony makes her wish she did. At least Silco doesn’t toss her away after all she did for him, while she is stuck here in recovery; he sends her money and on rare occasions comes to visit. Well, that’s fucking good and all that but missing arm won’t be solved by just money. She’s desperate for something tangible. And maybe the angel is real and her wish has been granted because suddenly the door next to her crack open. A woman, not older than the mid or early 20s, with a tight tee and jeans just like anybody else in Zaun walks right into the room. She looks completely average but Sevika spots a heavy bag she has in her hand.

“You are Miss Sevika?”

“Yeah? Who the fuck are you?”

“Your boss hired me to take care of you,”

“What? You’re some kind of nurse? That’s new, a nurse in Zaun?” it came out of Sevika’s mouth more sarcastic than she actually meant it. Sevika has genuinely never seen any real doctors let alone nurses in this place.

Sevika must have looked miserable that instead of answering her question she went straight to sitting down beside her and took a look at the fresh wound that was wrapped by a soaked bright red bandage.

“This… is far worse than what he told me,”

“Are you telling me you just noticed I have no left arm when you came in?” Sevika retorts back, her brows tie into a knot and her voice is harsh with an edge of bitterness. The woman looks at her in the eyes, she bites her lower lips as if she wants to say something. Sevika is unsure if that’s a pity or annoyance in her eyes but it’s the first time she has gazed into her eyes. She seems to have decided against it and resumed her examination.

“How long has this been on?” the new nurse asks Sevika. The taller woman leans her head back against the green wall, she snorts and tries to light a fire to the cigarette she holds in her mouth

“2 to 3 days?”

“You smoke? I would advise against it for the time being,”

“Huh? Why? Everybody smokes? Also, I lost a fucking arm? There’s a bigger problem to worry about, no?” Sevika challenges her nurse who is cracking her bag of medical tools open, there are so many things that Sevika cannot recognize right away. Out of almost 30 years of her life, she never received any medical care as close as this. And suddenly worries how much this would cost her, how much did Silco pay this girl? She hisses sharply as the old bandage is being peeled off from the wound.

“So, did you and your boss come up with the solution?” the small woman asks Sevika without tearing her sight from the work in front of her. Sevika doesn’t look either, the thought of seeing her own severed shoulder made her wanna gag.

“Prosthetics,” the older woman assumed it was still about her injury.

“Decorative one or mechanical?”

“Don’t be fucking stupid, princess. Why would I need a useless one?” Sevika grins at herself for finding a slip-up to bite back at the nurse. The cold gazes rest upon her now as the nurse next to her stops what she is doing for a moment. Sevika expects some reactions but she gives her none.

“The mechanical one will be expensive…”

“And? Stays on your lane, don’t say anything that you know nothing of,”

“Just curious. No offense, but your boss is the one paying me. You can’t even pay for a nurse, I doubt you will make enough for a prosthetics” that simply sends Sevika off, she could feel sharp frustrating, and humiliating feelings. Oh, she wouldn’t know, that statement the woman just utters cut deep in Sevika’s psyche. Her blood runs cold in anger, she gets her situation very well. Poverty, who wouldn’t know that they themselves are poor? It’s a fact and Sevika isn’t delusional but having a fucking stranger pointing that output a sour and bitter taste in her mouth. Sevika waits until the bandage changing is complete then stands abruptly turning to face the shorter woman beside her who is also rising up. And she’s fucking hates that expression. It’s the doubt, washing all over the nurse’s face. Sevika hates doubt, especially when it’s against her. Reminds her of her old man. Brown hair woman pushes away the thoughts of her father to the corner of her mind as fast as possible before the guilt, regret, and resentment could manifest.

“What’s wrong?” the woman inquires quietly now, unsure if she did anything wrong.

“You’re finished. The door’s right there, where you came from. Go collect payment or whatever from him,”

“About that…” she says rather sheepishly. Her voice squeezes through the narrow gap between her teeth. Another new kind of expression. Sevika says nothing back and so the woman continues. “He already paid in advance for the rest of the year,” Sevika blinks at that statement trying to understand why the fuck is that her problem and why should she care.

“Good? Then get the fuck out then,”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you before?”

“What?” alarm is sounding in Sevika’s head

“He hired me to take care of you until you are at your normal capability which means I’m going to be living with you until then,”

“What the fuck?”

#sevika x reader #arcane fanfic #arcane

[syllvane]

muscle memory pt. 3- sylvie x reader

a/n: i said i was going to post tomorrow but i couldn’t help myself. anyways, spoilers for episode 2 and 3 of loki, minor spoilers for the beginning of episode 3. final word count is 1.7k words!

read the previous part  read the next part   read the series  

“How is Loki doing?” You asked Mobius, walking with him to the mess hall.

“He’s doing great. Making real progress, I would say.”

“Didn’t you have to have a meeting with Renslayer this morning because of his actions?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. His face scrunched up for a second.

“It’s like every time he is making progress, he takes two steps back.”

“That sounds more believable. You still think he’s worth all the trouble though?”

Mobius sighed slightly. “I really do believe in him. It’s not just an issue of whether I believe in him though, it’s whether Ravonna and the Timekeepers do.”

“Oh, you’re on first name basis now, with Renslayer?” You turned and grinned at Mobius, who immediately flushed after realizing his mistake.

“Not a word of this to anyone.” He said strictly, although there was a smile on his face as well.

“Yeah, yeah.” You said, standing in line with Mobius as he ordered his lunch before sitting down at a two-seat table. “Ravonna and Mobius-”

“C-7.” Mobius said strictly, although you could tell he was partly amused by your antics.

You continued in the same quiet, sing-songy voice as before.

“-on a jet ski. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Mobius finished taking a sip of his drink and then applauded quietly, so as to not draw attention.

“Has anyone ever told you that you truly have all the originality of a grade-schooler?”

Before you could answer, you were interrupted by a tall man with long dark hair speed walking over to where Mobius and you were sitting.

Although he seemed to be in a hurry, you could tell that he was sizing up everybody in the room, including yourself.

“I found- oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there. Would you mind moving so that me and my partner could discuss something?” He asked politely, even smiling.

You locked eyes with him, smiling back at him.

“I’m good, thanks. You can just pull up a chair.”

His smile wavered and he maintained eye contact for a couple of moments longer before breaking it, going to a different table and pulling over a chair.

(You ignored the pointed look Mobius shot at you, like he was asking you to be the bigger person here. Unfortunately for him, you had no such intentions.)

“Right. I know how the Variant is hiding.”

Mobius leaned back.

“Talk about burying the lead. How?”

Loki smiled slightly, this smile much different from his last- he was proud of himself.

“He’s hiding in apocalypses.” 

There was a moment of silence. You and Mobius exchanged a glance.

“Which one? There’s like a million all across history.” Mobius pointed out and Loki took a second to compose himself before starting his explanation.

You sat back as he explained his reasoning, watching with amusement as he put more salt and pepper into Mobius’ salad, handing him your own drink when he realized that Mobius’ drink was empty.

He gave you a nod of recognition and Mobius sent you another, even more exasperated glance as Loki poured your drink into the salad (although, in your opinion, seeing Loki grin like that made it worth it).

                                                             —— “How was Pompeii?” You asked, not even having to look up from the apocalypse case files to figure out that it was Loki who was approaching you.

He stopped for a minute, almost taken aback by your observation, before continuing and taking a seat in front of you.

“I was right, naturally.”

You scoffed slightly.

“Naturally.”

You looked up at him to find that his piercing eyes were already looking at you, almost curiously.

“You’re already sorting through the apocalypse files.”

“Naturally occurring disasters with no survivors, cross-referenced with the candy that Mobius picked up. You were confident that you were right so I figured I should start looking.”

Loki raised his eyebrows and smiled slightly.

“You’re smarter than you look. Could’ve saved me and Mobius some time.” 

“He forgot to cross-reference?”

He nodded, hesitating for a moment before he grabbed some of the files that you hadn’t started looking over yet.

You looked at him appreciatively, though he wasn’t looking at you anymore. 

The two of you sat there, looking at the case files in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Mobius walked into your office as well.

“What’s this?” Mobius asked, taking a cursory glance at the file on top.

“Kablooie.” You said simply and Mobius sighed slightly, frustrated that he hadn’t thought of it.

He grabbed a couple of files as well, standing up as he started reading.

“I think I have something,” Loki said a couple of minutes later, splaying the case out on your desk so that everyone could see. “Class ten apocalypse. Alabama, 2050.”

You looked it over and even just with a cursory glance, you could tell that this is where the Variant was hiding- you looked over at Mobius and saw pride on his face.

“You’re gonna take my job if I’m not careful.”

“Now to pitch it to Renslayer.” You said and Mobius nodded, already halfway out of your office. He closed the door behind him and you looked at Loki. “I don’t think I’ve seen him this excited in a while. In fact, the last time I saw him this excited, I think we saw a jet ski on a mission.”

Loki smiled to himself, though the expression disappeared when he looked back at you.

“And what about you?”

“Hm?” You tilted your head slightly, caught off-guard by the question.

“What excites you?” 

You held his gaze for a couple of moments, feeling uncomfortable with how he looked at you, as if he knew something about you that you didn’t know about yourself. 

You finally looked away, standing up.

“We should go meet Mobius. We’ll be heading out as soon as he gets the approval.”

“You say this like it’s a sure thing.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Renslayer say no to him. Come on.”

                                                          ——

The rain sounded a hundred times louder when you were listening to it hit the roof of the Roxxcart, so loud that you could barely hear the sound of your own voice above the noise.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, positioning your reset baton defensively. The man standing by the plants seemed to hesitate slightly, although he was still much too calm for this kind of weather.

“Hurricane sale. Azaleas are half-off.”

“Could that be you?” You asked Loki, your eyes never leaving the man. Although his eyes continued to look between you and Loki, his gaze lingered on you longer.

“I… mean… I would’ve worn a suit, but it could be.”

You took a couple steps towards the man and he backed up, looking at you pleadingly.

“I don’t want to do this.” He said quietly and you tilted your head slightly, confused.

You took another step towards him.

“What-”

He grabbed your arm and a warm feeling came over your body.

A woman’s voice in your head lulled you to sleep, promising to bring you home and then everything went dark.

…

“Sylv, why are you acting so weird?” You asked, taking another sip of wine.

The blonde woman across from you smiled, although you could tell that she was forcing it for your sake.

“Another one of my suitors came and visited me today.” She said. You made a face and she laughed slightly.

“Complete fools, every one of them.”

“Fools for being deeply in love with me?” She asked, raising an eyebrow, almost as if she was allowing herself to play the part for a couple of brief moments.

“No, I’m above self-flagellation. They’re fools for thinking that they could ever win your heart.”

She laughed.

“And why is that?”

You leaned back in your chair.

“I have it on very good account that someone already has it.” You said and Sylvie‘s smile faded and her gaze didn’t quite meet yours, almost as if her mind was preoccupied elsewhere.

She looked back at you, her look apologetic.

The scene around you grew distorted, nothing quite clear anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

Her words repeated everywhere around you like you were in an echo chamber rather than…

Rather than…

Where were you?

The blonde woman that had been there a moment ago disappeared and with her, everything else.

…

When you came to, Mobius was kneeling beside you, waiting for you to wake up.

“C-7… are you okay?” He asked slowly, looking at you with more concern than you think anyone else ever has.

You propped yourself up and you looked around wildly for Loki or for the blonde woman- Sylvie- who had been in your head.

“Where are they?” You asked and you hated how desperate your voice sounded.

“They escaped. Take it easy, the Variant did a number on-”

“Mobius, I have to find her.” You said, trying to stand up only to be overwhelmed with nausea and dizziness.

Mobius supported you, keeping you from falling back onto the ground.

“I know. And we will, but we have more pressing issues right now. Come on.”

You didn’t protest, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to convince Mobius even if you promised to get him a jet ski afterwards.

What you had to do now, you would do alone.

He helped you through the portal back to the TVA and the rest of your team followed, all of them being immediately assigned to different Nexus events that were happening simultaneously.

You, being injured, were given the pass to stay back at the TVA. 

You wondered if the Timekeepers knew what you were about to do, if they could’ve predicted it- after all, they were the ones who had made you, right?

You headed to the sector of the TVA where they issued TemPads, looking at the data of where all the TemPads were jumping to and from when you stumbled upon something odd- there was a TemPad that only had one jump registered in its entire history.

TVA to Lamentis-1, 2077.

Huh.

The Variant- Sylvie- whatever her name was, must’ve found out a way to stop the TemPad from feeding data into the system, but it must’ve reset when she jumped to the TVA.

You grabbed one of the TemPad’s that were out of commission for charging, unplugging it. 

It was low on battery, but it would have to do.

You opened a portal for yourself using the exact same coordinates and time that they had put in and without any hesitation, you walked through.

#sylvie laufeydottir x reader #sylvie x reader #mcu sylvie x reader #mcu sylvie #sylvie #loki series #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #loki #mobius m mobius #tva #tva!reader #time variance authority #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #mcu x reader #mcu imagine #MCU

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Six)

AN- Two chapters in one night... hope you like them! Soft Holmes Brothers scene at the end because, especially after the Eurus situation, the boys truly do love and care for each other! Not proof read either of these yet so apologies if there are mistakes!

Word Count- 4405

The younger brother's eyes had flicked over you both only momentarily, the tiniest flick up of his lips at the side of his mouth that disappeared so quickly it could have been misinterpreted for a twitch.

"Ever the delight, Sherlock." Mycroft spoke, standing straighter, his chin poking up a little higher. Sherlock glanced over his posture and rolled his eyes.

"Oh for God's sake don't start that Mycroft. Had I blamed you for everything I can assure you I wouldn't have bothered opening the door, don't make it so obvious that you care about my opinion of you- it's embarrassing for both of us." And with that he spun around and headed up the stairs to 221B, leaving the door to the flat wide open and disappearing into the bathroom.

"Well that was.."

"Easy? I told you that you shouldn't worry." You nudged Mycroft into the building before ascending the stairs.

"Sherlock Holmes, possibly the only man in the world to forgive somebody for nearly killing him in a heartbeat, but held a 6 month grudge when I took the last custard cream from the biscuit jar when I was 12.." Mycroft muttered, making his way into the flat and sitting beside you on the two seater sofa. John walked into the room from the kitchen shortly after, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand as he said his hellos.

"Figured I'd stick the kettle on when you said you were on your way.. Greg shouldn't be long now." He gave a smile, taking his place in his own armchair. "How have.." He glanced at Mycroft. "How have you been? He won't admit it, but Sherlock's been worried about you." Mycroft took a breath, sending a polite smile in the direction of the army doctor.

"Doctor Watson, I can assure you that I am fine and have been perfectly well looked after." His eyes flickered to you for a moment and then back to the doctor. "I presume the pair of you have held up well as I haven't heard any reports of gunfire towards the wall for a fair bit of time." John grinned, casting his eyes over to the smiley face on the wall that had thankfully been left alone.

"Good. Yeah, uh, things here have been.. good.. too." A blank stare matched with a more thoughtful raise of lips. ".. Very good, actually.."

"Catch." Sherlock came stalking into the room, a damp flannel thrown in Mycroft's general direction which he caught expertly, not allowing a single moist patch to appear on his clothing.

"And this is.."

"A flannel? Christ Mycroft has trauma affected your brain cells that much?" Sherlock quipped, flopping down into his armchair and lazily holding his hand out for his tea that was a mere few inches away from his fingers. John placed the mug in his hand without thought or argument, his fingers brushing over Sherlock's slightly before moving away. A biscuit soon followed, John holding out the digestive while Sherlock partly opened his lips, and shoving the food between them. It was your turn to raise your brow now, but you didn't say anything, instead just nudging Mycroft with your knee to make sure he had seen it too. Of course he had. "It's for your face, Y/N's lip balm is all round your mouth and it's making me feel a bit sick." John's eyes widened as he looked between the pair of you. You shrugged your shoulders and smiled, Mycroft simply sweeping away the slightly pink balm from underneath his lip and folding the wet cloth back up to place on the side. At least he hadn't picked up that you did it on purpose. Before anybody else could speak, the sound of someone bounding up the stairs filled the flat.

"Sorry I'm late, Ms Hudson let me in an- what did I miss?" Greg stood breathless at the door, satchel slung over his shoulder and a carrier bag in his other hand, staring at the apparent awkward glances shared between half the room. You stood from the sofa and headed over towards him, swiftly wrapping your arms around him and placing a small kiss on his cheek to say hello. He made his way into the room and perched on the arm of the sofa closest to Mycroft, casting another look at everybody when his question still hadn't been answered.

"Nothing of importance. Mycroft and Y/N have obviously decided to stop moping around each other like lovesick teenagers and finally admitted they've been infatuated with each other for years.. Now you're all caught up, can we get these papers sorted out so I can be more productive with my time?" Sherlock huffed.

"Nothing of importance? Don't be an arse Sherlock, that's excellent news." Greg clapped Mycroft on his shoulder and shot you a toothy grin. "Declaration in the park was it? Might be a good enough reason for me to not punch you for closing off St James'.." John's eyes widened more, if it were possible.

"You just.. closed off St James'? Can you even do-" The look Mycroft shot John made him cut his sentence short. "Right, yeah. British Government." He nodded, standing to go fetch Greg a coffee (yourself and Mycroft still held a shared judgement against Greg and his hatred for tea) and continuing to ask questions about your newly confirmed relationship. Mycroft sat awkwardly through the encounter- briefly talking about his emotions in front of you was one thing, a whole flat full of people was entirely different- so you gave his knee a quick squeeze and answered for him. "Who bit the bullet then?" John sat down. "Christ I know I mistook the pair of you being together when I met you, so surely these two have been waiting longer for you to get on with it." Greg grinned, nodding in agreement at John's assumption. Sherlock, on the other hand, stay lying on his chair completely unphased by the conversation going on around him.

"To cut a long story short, we were watching telly, I said Stephen Fry was a bit sexy, Mycroft informed me that he used to get told he had a slight resemblance to him, I realised I'd stuck my foot in it and had a ramble.. Went from there. Nothing too exciting, sorry." You left out the parts where the night before you had handled a broken Mycroft to the shower, how he had gripped onto you, how you held him as you slept. You also left out the way he had allowed himself to cry, how you held him while he wept- and, for that, Mycroft was incredibly thankful. Sherlock probably knew though, somehow, in his Sherlock way of knowing things- but he was either too kind to announce it to the room, or didn't care enough to waste his breath.. probably the latter.

"That's disappointing. You've mentioned about fancying Stephen Fry for years, this could have happened ages ago." John teased.

"Nothing compared to Hugh Laurie though. I'm pretty certain that I'm straight but I'd let him-"

"The papers!!" Sherlock's shout cut Greg's ramble off, making the silver haired man jump and grab his satchel, handing out the reports in a way that reminded you of a teacher with test papers.

"Right, yeah. Sorry. Basically the proper forms aren't ready for another week or so so these are just a few basic questions- nothing too in depth yet since I wanted to give you guys time to... yeah just basic for now." Mycroft chose to read through all the questions before answering them, whereas Sherlock  hastily scribbled his response to each question as he went along- the smaller details in the Holmes brothers' differences are always interesting to stumble upon. As he held the page in his hands, you carefully leant over to have a glance at the questions, your hand resting lightly on his shoulder and your cheek resting just against your fingers- blissfully unaware at the 2 sets of eyes openly staring at your movements, and the one set that watched from the side. Greg was right, in a way, the questions definitely weren't as overbearing as they could be- but that doesn't mean it was an easy task. The questions targeted Mycroft a lot more than it did John and Sherlock, asking things about scenarios and situations that had occured before they were taken, how long it had been since they had any contact with Eurus prior to that evening/ what they discussed, and a few basic questions about any incentives Eurus may have had, and anything that aided her into her plan. Of course the papers weren't labelled with the sister's name, they were generically printed and typically handed out to anybody involved in any kind of criminal behaviours, but that didn't make it seem any less like these were questions that targeted Mycroft in particular. Mycroft took a deep breath and laid the papers back onto the coffee table in front of him, pulling a pen out of his pocket and beginning to write. In this moment you had noticed the small bounce of his left leg, a movement only ever shown by him in times where he had a particularly stressful day at work, or a troubling encounter with his brother- it was a movement that let you know his brain was running a mile a minute and he felt a little more overwhelmed that usual. Without making a point of it, you move your right hand to rest on his mid thigh, allowing your thumb to rub small shapes into his leg to show your support.

Turning your gaze to the rest of the room, you noticed Greg's eyes on you, a grin on his face that practically stretched to his ears. You rolled your eyes at him, using your other hand to flip him off and smiled.

It had taken just under two hours in total for the boys to finish completely (well, an hour and twenty minutes for the Holmes siblings, an extra forty minutes for John whose brain simply didn't work as fast as theirs to convey the information on the paper). The time had passed fairly quickly, with yourself and Greg not wanting to disturb the silence and instead just drinking your hot drinks and stealing a couple of biscuits from the tray. You gave Mycroft's leg one last squeeze before sitting back against the sofa, stretching a little after finally getting out of that position.

"Thanks again for getting this done today." Greg spoke, taking the papers in and putting them in a plastic folder. "I'd better be off anyway, get these filed in." He stood, heading for the front door and tripping over the carrier bag he had brought in with him earlier. "Shit, yeah I almost forgot." He picked up the bag and handed it to you. "Got your coat, and I may have accidentally read your mind if you had been talking about Stephen and Hugh.." You dug through the bag and grinned as you pulled out the box at the bottom.

"You, Gregory Lestrade, are a bloody legend. God I could kiss you!" Your boxset of 'A Bit of Fry and Laurie' rested in your hands and you showed it to Mycroft, beaming at him. His lips raised at your reaction, showing a small glint in his eye, as you explained how now the pair of you would have to binge watch it since Mycroft had never got round to watching them before. Greg barked out a laugh.

"I wouldn't. I don't fancy being hunted by Mycroft's secret services." Mycroft let out a small laugh himself. And with that, Greg was gone and left the flat to the four of you once more.

***

You hadn't stayed at the flat long before you all made your way to Angelo's restaurant, even managing to convince Mycroft to just take a cab rather than bothering his chauffeur for a 5 minute journey.

"Ahhh Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson!" Angelo greeted, pulling the aforementioned men into an awkward half embrace, half headlock. "Back again so soon? I shall get your usual table set up, grab some candles. Anything for you!" The pair of men awkwardly shifted out of the hold and Sherlock offered a smile.

"Not today Angelo, we need a table for four if that suits your capacities here?" Sherlock peered round at the tables inside.

"Of course, a double date, very lovely to see! Come, come!" He led the four of you inside, you grinning at Mycroft at Angelo's casual mentionings of Sherlock and John's usual 'romantic' set up. You were all ushered inside of a small booth and handed menus, the benches were small but tolerable, your thigh just brushing against Mycroft's, him offering a shy smile at the close contact. "You stay here, I'll get to work on those candles. Just for you, Mr Holmes." Angelo spoke again, clapping Sherlock on his shoulder and disappearing into the back of the restaurant.

"He's.. uh.. a bit enthusiastic sometimes." John spoke, his cheeks burning a little at the memories of previous encounters here.

"Quite. Seems a pleasurable fellow." Came Mycroft's response, glancing over the menu. It had taken no time at all for the restaurant owner to appear back with a handful of small tealight candles in glass jars, and a single flower resting in a vase to lay on the table, taking everybody's orders and leaving once again. Then as the food turned up, Sherlock began to prod at the chips on his plate with his knife.

"What are you doing? Eat your bloody food, Sherlock." John quipped, elbowing the man to his side.

"Don't want it.. whoever decided that dessert was only customary after a meal? I'd much rather wait." John gave Sherlock a look and he spoke again. "Don't give me that look, this was your idea. Who even suggests 'late lunch' as a valid meal time? It's impractical. I didn't eat breakfast because we didn't get out of bed until well past the respected breakfast hour.." 'We'.. you didn't press. "So I had a sandwich at lunch which has ruined my appetite for this. Then I'll be hungry again later, but later than dinner time because of how late this lunch is." Sherlock childishly squashed his chip with his thumb. "It's just ridiculous.. they keep adding new names for new meals at new hours, I feel like we're becoming Bobbits."

"Hobbits, brother mine." Mycroft corrected, the faintest smile playing at the side of his mouth as Sherlock's words sounded alarmingly like the ones he had told you only this morning- it was nice when they just got along.

"That's what I said."

"No, you said Bobbits."

"Boys!" John warned, and you broke out into a small fit of giggles.

"We really can't take you anywhere, can we?" You chimed in. Sherlock just huffed, stabbing a chip and eating it as John gave him a stern look. It was quite sweet, actually, watching them be all domestic. By the time you'd finished your meals, yours and John's plates were clear, Sherlock's leaving only a few chips and a mouthful of burger as he found, after starting to eat the food, that he really enjoyed it and wanted more. Mycroft, on the other hand, had managed to leave little over half of his spaghetti bolognese, making comments about the pasta being far too rubbery, or the sauce being too thin, crossing the cutlery over in the centre and making a dismissive comment about making something to eat when he got home- you all knew he wouldn't.

Sherlock had practically jumped for joy when Angelo came out with a tray of chocolate fudge cake, offering slices around the table which you all, bar Mycroft, accepted happily.

"I shan't spoil my appetite for when I get home." Was his small excuse, raising a hand to prevent Angelo from spouting his claims that he had the best cake in London and that he must have a piece, and instead asking for a coffee. Without words being spoken, John cast his eyes over to you and you offered a small sad smile. Nobody had told John of Mycroft's past, but he was a doctor and always knew when signs were displayed. You had taken an extra fork from Angelo just in case and took a small bite with your own fork, unable to let out the (embarrassingly erotic) moan that had escaped you.

"Christ he wasn't lying, this is incredible." You praised, taking another small piece on the second fork. "Mycroft please give it a try." You offered your hand out towards him, the sliver of cake resting on the tip of the fork's prongs. He looked over at it, his mind telling him to give it a go, at the very least because it had been offered by you, but the image of himself in the mirror this morning came back to mind. He declined the offer and you sighed. Mycroft truly did love cake, and any sweet things, so it was heartbreaking for you to see him turning it away because of the thoughts that ran through his brain. Sherlock had already cleared his plate by this point and stood up abruptly, hoisting his coat back over his shoulders.

"I'm going to go out for a cigarette, care to join me Mycroft?" He had asked, walking past the table. Mycroft creased his eyebrows into a frown.

"Sherlock, the pact? I haven't smoked for three years."

"Neither have I, let's go." Sherlock spoke back quickly, hoisting his brother from the booth and taking the pair of them outside. You raised a brow at John who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I stopped questioning the pair of them and their motives a long time ago." He reasoned, the pair of you turning your heads to see the two Holmes boys outside resting against the restaurant's window.

"I try my best to.. they just still fascinate me." You spoke back, your eyes lingering on Mycroft a little longer before turning back to the table.

"So.. you and Mycroft. Going well?" John asked, his mouth raising in that side smile he often displayed when he was teasing somebody. "I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen Mycroft Holmes smile in a non-threatening way, and over half of those were from since you walked into the flat earlier. I think I can only just about count on two hands times where he's pulled an expression that isn't stoic and emotionless."

"Yeah.. I didn't expect it to happen, if I'm completely honest with you. We've spent so many years just avoiding the subject, but after.. Eurus.. I don't know. It flicked something in Myc that made him regret not doing something about it sooner." John nodded, understanding where you were coming from. "You also don't give him enough credit. Everybody just assumes he's this 'iceman' persona, but it's all a front.. I've watched him laugh so hard that tears fall from his eyes, he's one of those people who throws their heads back and lets out an absolute belter of an infectious laugh. I've seen him get angry at the telly if I came over and some stupid reality show came on the telly.. He shouted at Kim Kardashian once on there for some reason or another. I've stayed up all night with him after he had gruelling days at work, him offering to do the same for me if I had a bad case and couldn't sleep. And then, very recently, I watched him cry." You continued on. "Mycroft Holmes is one of the most emotional, caring people I've ever known, he is just incredibly particular at who gets to see it. You're a doctor, John. You know how experiences in life can shape one's emotional stability, how it alters their mental health. Had you grown up without very many people being kind to you, you'd be scared to let somebody else in too." You finished.

"Sorry.. I didn't mean it to come out in a bad way.. I just meant.. It's nice. Seeing Mycroft acting like that, it's.. nice." He apologised. You waved it off. You knew John didn't mean any harm.

"Mycroft and I are old news anyway.. What about you and Sherlock? When did that surface?" You asked, beaming at the deep red John's face had become as he choked on a sip of his drink. "Oh come on, don't act like that. We've all been waiting for this one to happen since you moved in."

"I.. I don't know what you-" Glaring at him, he stopped himself. "Yeah fine, okay. When we got back to the flat that night we went into the front room and Sherlock lost it. I'd never seen him anything like it before, he just.. he just sobbed into a heap on the floor." He explained, the nervous tapping of his fingers against his glass trying to distract him from his eyes watering. "I didn't know what else to do, so I scooped him up and put him in his bed. He begged me to stay with him and I did. Then he apologised to me, for dragging me in all of that mess, for almost getting me killed and he just wouldn't stop apologising.. So I stole the stereotypical movie move and kissed him. Just kind of went from there. I think that night made us realise that beating around the bush all these years wasn't helping either of us, and the thought that we could have lost the other only a few hours beforehand woke us up." He coughed, his voice breaking slightly.

"God look at us.. All the people in the world and we've landed with the Holmes'" You grabbed John's hand from across the table and laughed. "Makes you feel quite special though, doesn't it? That, equally, there were all the people in the world and they chose us?" John grinned, giving your hand a squeeze.

"Could never tell them that though, their egos would go through the bloody roof."

***

"They're talking about us." Sherlock mused, breathing in the London air.

"It seems people do little else." Mycroft returned, casting his glance to you smiling with John at the table.

"She really does like you. I've spent years deducing everything about her to make sure she wasn't a secret Russian spy sent with the motive to kill you." The younger spoke playfully. "You could have eaten the cake."

"Hmm?"

"The cake. I know you wanted it, but you're going back to how you used to be. Now that you're together, you're nervous." Sherlock's voice was nonchalant, simple observations, which didn't ease his older brother at all. "It's pointless. She's entirely infatuated. I thought the childish doe eyes disappeared after being attracted to somebody for a few weeks, but she still looks at you like I look at a triple homicide."

"Resulting to similes now?"

"You need to stop that too. Dismissing it whenever somebody is trying to be... kind... to you. That's just annoying and not a good defence mechanism for insecurities, like a mask made of clingfilm, it's too obvious." Mycroft didn't speak in turn and Sherlock huffed. "She worries for you, she seeks for you to be comfortable in trialling situations, her eyes do that little light up thing every time you open your bloody mouth. Since standing here she's looked over 3 times and smiled to herself seeing you stand here with me without us arguing. I caught her 4 times on the way to the cab from the flat looking at your arse and your legs in that damned suit. You don't have to worry about anything with her- the way she looks at you is so lovesick it makes me queasy."

"And you know this how, Sherlock? Or is this another one of your cruel schemes to embarrass me?"

"Because, Mycroft, it's the same way you've looked at her for as long as I can remember you knowing her. Jesus, Mycroft, I haven't seen you smile this much since we were children.. before we did everything that led us to believe we were any better than anybody else, that we deserved more than sentiment. And it's the same way I.. the same way I look at him." Sherlock's eyes now locked onto John.

"Always did say there would be a happy announcement between the pair of you. Good to see I'm correct once again." Mycroft mused. He remained stoic, but his brother's words were whirring in his brain, leaving him in a state of shock at the curly haired man even displaying this form of kindness towards him.

"You told me once that caring isn't an advantage. But these last few days, no matter how short it has been, have already led me to believe that caring is perhaps the greatest advantage of them all. And I strongly believe you feel the same way, no matter what bull you make up to argue against it." The pair of them watched through the window once more, the image of you and John laughing at whatever joke had been shared between you. "We both have wasted many years fighting against this, and I don't want you to screw yours up. Y/N will remain by your side and feel the same way towards you, whether you wear a bin bag, lose your job, put on weight- she's in it for the long haul. She's spent so many years pining after you that she deserves the best from you and to be happy. And you, brother mine, have been through enough with not good people; you deserve the happiness too." Sherlock trailed the last sentence. It's incredibly rare for them to show it, but Sherlock and Mycroft would always have a particularly close bond, they've been through too much together not to- and so times like this were precious to them. Mycroft simply let out a small cough, reaching his arm over to rest on his younger brother's shoulder to give it a quick squeeze, before patting it twice and letting his arm rest back by his side.

"Sentiment appears to be dwelling well on you." Mycroft spoke, heading back to the door of the restaurant to head inside, holding it open for his brother.

"As it is on you, brother. As it is on you."

#mycroft holmes #mycroft #bbc mycroft #bbc mycroft holmes #mycroft x reader #mycroft holmes x reader #bbc mycroft x reader #bbc mycroft holmes x reader #bbc sherlock #mycroft holmes x you #mycroft x you #bbc mycroft x you #bbc mycroft holmes x you #x reader #reader insert #john watson #moriarty #jim moriarty #james moriarty #greg lestrade #gregory lestrade #lestrade #mycroft x reader smut #x reader smut #smut

[byuntrash101]

Cry me a Fucking River

Pairing: Baekhyun x You

Genre: angst 💀(i tried), smut 🖤

Tags: plot, back story, psychological and physical violence, Ex!AU, AbusiveRelationship!AU, “make up” sex, crying, alcohol, breeding kink (i guess?), VERY angsty, bitter sweet ending. Don't read if you are triggered by these topics

Raiting: 18+

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: Even if it’s a lie you love the way he looks at you when he says “I love you”.

A/N: It’s sooo difficult for me to write angst. I really tried hard 🥲... But IM really inspired me with the song. Even the tittle comes from IM's neck tattoo in the MV... I’ve been working on this one shot ever since it came out (aka a long time ago) please tell me if i did justice to this beautiful song ^^

General Masterlist

Inspired by IM Changkyun’s “God damn”

𝓖𝓸𝓭 𝓭𝓪𝓶𝓷 𝓲𝓽, 𝓘 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽

𝓚𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷 '𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓘'𝓶 𝓷𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓭, 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓱

𝓘 𝓭𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷' 𝔂𝓸𝓾

𝓖𝓲𝓶𝓶𝓮 𝓪 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰

𝓖𝓸𝓭 𝓭𝓪𝓶𝓷 𝓲𝓽, 𝓘 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓲𝓽

𝓘'𝓶 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓼𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘'𝓶 𝓭𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓰

𝓖𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓶𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓭𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

𝓘 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾,

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓘'𝓶 𝓭𝓻𝓾𝓷𝓴

                                                 Received 4m ago

                                               Baekhyun: I miss u...

                                                                    ✓ Read

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯...

𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶...

𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘯

You sigh staring at the ceiling of your room. Your roommates are down stairs playing an alcohol game but you sit here alone. You don’t feel like having fun tonight… You don’t feel like anything at all actually.

You lift your phone up and stare at the name on the screen. Baekhyun… Baekhyun is your ex boyfriend. You have been separated for a year now. After 3 years of the most toxic and damaging relationship you ever had you finally broke up. 

You told everybody he was bad for you.

You told your friends how possessive he was, how would go through your phone, or force you to use the speakerphone every time you have a call. Or how controlling he was when he didn’t want you to wear make up or even earrings…

And you’re not lying, all of it was true, down to the littlest detail and that’s what you told yourself too. But the truth was that you were hiding half of the story. Because no matter how much you tried to persuade yourself… you were just as bad to him.

You kept quiet on the silent treatments, spending days even weeks ignoring him, just for the sake of hurting him.

You kept quiet on the numerous ways you were always blaming him for all the problems you ever had. You never took the time to listen to him, you just always assumed it was his fault for everything. If you guys fought so much it was his fault, if he was sad, it was his fault. No matter how many hurtful words you spat his way it was his fault for being weak and not being able to bear the truth.

You kept silent on the way you always tried to make him jealous by letting other guys go after you or by simply letting people believe that you were available.

Always manipulating him in feeling sorry for himself, the exact same way he did it to you.

Like a game

Turn by turn

You were making your lives a living hell

Just like a game

 But they were moments of peace, or if you dare to call it that way, love. Yes, in some moments you truly loved each other. In a way, only the both of you can understand.

No one could possibly get how good you felt when you were finally calming down after the storm. How his eyes would clear up. How your heart would beat for him when his lips pink pouty lips curled into an adorable boxy smile. When you laid your head on his chest and that you knew he was yours, yours only. How you knew that heart beating against your ear was beating for you. How you knew the soft warm breath fanning your cheeks was just for you. When you both apologized and made the ever empty promise of never hurting each other again. He looked at you with the most sincere eyes and he said that he loved you…

This…

This feeling… no one could understand, no one but you two.

In your own unique and fucked up way… you loved each other.

But it had to be stopped right? If it went on you would have ended up killing each other… When you love and hate someone so much at the same time it’s the only way out…

And so you broke with him for good when after another fight you… You have absolutely no trouble recalling the taste of blood in your mouth, the pain in your scratched out throat, the screams of your ex-boyfriend, the sinking void in your chest…

You remember everything, every single detail.

How his voice shattered your eardrums, the noise of your nose breaking, the blood gushing out his brow bone, dripping in his eye.

That night was the last one.

 You can’t help but to think about that when you look at the message on your phone. It’s been a year, the memories of the damage you’ve done and the pain you endured is still fresh… But so is this feeling of warm happiness bubbling in your stomach… and so is this feeling you want to call love…

***

“Hey” Baekhyun simply says when he opens the front door of his apartment. He invites you in and you try to avoid his eyes.

“The living room is right there he points to the end of the hall” you nod, eyes still on the floor as you walk to the designated room. You sit yourself on the couch and Baekhyun sits right in front of you in a single seat. The only light source is a desk lamp set on the end table to your right. The room is small but cosy it has the familiar smell of cold cigarette that you came to love.

“The apartment is nice” you finally say after a long moment of silence. Baekhyun chuckles.

“Yeah… it’s kinda nice living on my own now… You know without the roommate” You are still looking around the room even though you already looked at the details of the curtains 3 times. “The only downside is that you can’t blame someone else for the dishes piling up in the sink” He laughs, with that clear, open mouth laugh that you used to know. A sound you thought you would never hear again. You don’t know why but that makes you look at him.

The second you lay eyes on him your heart sinks. His dark brown eyes forming little crescents, his pouty lips curled up in an amused smile, his moles sitting on the side of his face. After that long , you would have thought that you had forgotten such details about him but you didn’t.

His smile faded when he noticed how long you stared. You locked eyes with him and somehow it felt different… Somehow you felt like you were going to be alright… Somehow you felt at home…

“You want something to drink?” he asked, blinking twice and shaking his head, breaking the intense eye contact.

“Yeah… Vodka please” you quietly answered smiling back.

At once he disappeared into the kitchen. The room was completely silent and you were able to hear your heart. It was beating hard but not fast. You didn’t feel nervous at all for some reason.

When Baekhyun came back with two glasses of the clear liquid and a beaming smile he sat next to you on the couch. Because frankly, it was what felt the most natural. His thighs pressed against yours.

You brought your glass to your lips to have a sip.

You thought that it would have been awkward that you wouldn’t know what to say but… The truth was that you didn’t need to say anything. You already spent hours speaking already. It was like you already said all the words in the world. And no words could ever make it right anyway. What was done was done and reality can’t be sugar coated anymore.

“Listen, y/n I-“

“No” you lifted your hand. “Don’t”

You didn’t want to hear them again. You knew them by heart the fake excuses and the empty promises. You didn’t come for that. You came to remember what was good.

You leaned in and closed your eyes and Baekhyun did too. When your lips link, sparks of electricity shoot between you, shivers run down your spine, making the hairs on your nape stand. Just a simple peck before he parted from you. Immediately your lips missed the warmth of his.

Baekhyun brought his hand to press your thigh. His cold slender fingers caressing your skin though your distressed jeans. You’re startled when you feel a warm tear roll down on your cheek. You repress a sob when you finally understand what it is… Then you notice a scar above his eyebrow and flashes of the last fight come rushing to you… You made that, you made that scar, along with the many invisible one that slowly turned him into the broken person he is. The overwhelming weight of guilt comes to crush you down.

But before you can open your mouth to say anything he crashes his trembling lips on yours. Trying so hard not to cry too. But the truth is that he missed you just as much.

His cold hands slip under your hoodie and roam your heated skin while yours unbutton his shirt. You can’t believe the same hands that are right now so delicately caressing your skin are the same that were lifted hit you so many times.

You can’t believe the soft lips kissing you so sweetly are the same ones that parted to insult you so many times.

You press your eyes closed shut, trying to chase away the memories of blood gushing out and shattered screams. You let your fingers entangle in his shiny silver hair. While he unbuckles you belt and pulls down your pants. Right after you help him out of his own clothes.

You lay down on the couch and he lays right over you, gently kissing your neck as you gasp at each one.

When he pulls away to look at you, his eyes translate a thousand emotions. Guilt, sadness, remorse and maybe, just maybe, even love. Or maybe you only want to see that in his eyes.

“Are you sure you want this?” he says his own eyes brimming with tears.

“Yeah” you breathe out.

Yes you want to forget about the bad things, about the pain and hatred, about the screams and the blood. You want to escape the truth one last time. You want to tell yourself that underneath all of this was true love. And you want to believe it’s still there even though it’s untrue. Even though you’re lying again…

Just then, like he senses your need to turn your face away from the truth, your need for fiction he crashes his lips onto yours, pulling you into a rough and harsh kiss. His teeth grazing over your lips. 

His length plunges inside your sopping center and his warmth pulls a small gasp from your lips. Finally reunited at last. 

He seizes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. Both of your body match up a coordinated and pleasurable rythme. His rough and hungry hands convey how much he missed you and even after all this time, he still knows you by heart… Of course he does… and you do too because the truth is that… You and him… You could never forget each other. Forever damned to be together, forever cursed to be apart.

The pleasant and familiar feeling of his hands, his lips and his manhood kissing your deepest part ignites a fire inside you. You pull both of your bodies up. You make him sit up and you straddle his lap.

But the truth is just right here, whispering in your ear…

 “You’re just fucking whore” his distant voice yells form the back of your head

You want to forget

Your hands roughly pull on his hair as he thrusts up inside you, making you moan his name in a shaky whisper. He whimpers into the deep and messy kiss. Your hands run on his warm skin, desperate to find under your finger the soft sensation you used to know.

 The sound of shattered glass on the floor

You want to forget

Your hips swivel around on him. You push your center against his hard cock, making him moan against the skin of your neck. Both if your warm bodies pressed together are reminded of each other.

 Soft sobs, lying on the cold tiles of the bathroom

You want to forget

He nibbles on your collar bones while you throw your head back giving him unrestricted access to you. His swift hands contour you and harshly grip your waist to pull you up and push you down on him, walls clenching around him while you feel him twitch in pleasure. Baekhyun dives in on your chest, taking one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth.

 The smudge makeup, the cold nights, the reek of alcohol, the screams, the sound of his hands leaving blue marks on your face, the horrors you said, the horrors he did… everything… everything…

You want to forget everything

 “Aaaah… Baekhyun” you whisper, trying to cover the overwhelming rumor of your own memories.

“Fuck y/n” He breaths against your skin while you lower your hips on him.

It feels so good. He feels so good. You close your eyes, making sure to enjoy the moment while for a brief instant you didn’t feel miserable.

“Fuck Baekhyun… Aaaah'' you moan again, feeling your core throb around Baekhyun’s length while his comforting grunts fill the air between you. 

“That's it baby” he purrs in your ears, hands roaming your body and lightly teasing your hard nipples. “Moan my name”

“Baekhyunnn” you cry out, feeling your release coming dangerously close as you rock your hips on him. 

“Fuck baby you’re so tight” he moans “You’re gonna make me cum” He says pushing his hip up fucking you back while you both sync up, fucking each other and at a beatiful matching pace.

“Say you love me” you plead, desperately wanting to believe him.

“I love you. I love you y/n” his hoarse voice whistles in your ear.

“I love you too” 

“Let's make that kid. Let's have that child we always dreamed about” he moans, nails digging into your bare thighs

“Okay” you whisper in a short breath, giving up, desperately wanting to believe this child will save the both of you.

“Take my cum baby.” His breath is short, struggling on every word. “Get pregnant... aghh” he grunts as he finally cums.

You feel him let go, huge amounts of thick cum rush inside of you, filling you up to the brink, reaching the deepest part of you, where life can possibly sprout.

You throw your head back, toes curled up and eyes rolled back as you bite hard on your bottom lip, fully enjoying the delicious full sensation spreading to your body as your heat uncontrollable twitches in a powerful orgasm. 

You moan out his name like a prayer, like a religious mantra. A final vain attempt to make you both right for each other at last.

He crashes his lips onto your, trying to chase away your doubts while you throb around his cock.

“Cum for me baby” he whispers as you slowly ride your high, drunk on the unbearable pleasure he pumped inside you.

Once you both get down he looks at you eyes filled with something you can’t quite describe, something you’ve never seen before… Maybe hope.

“I love you y/n”

“I love you too”

You hide your face in the crook of his neck, hiding the tears rolling on your cheeks. 

Even if it has to end in despair and sorrow, if it’s with him then you are willing to give it a pointless try once again. Because even if it’s a lie you love the way he looks at you when he says these three simple words.

General Masterlist 

Tag list:  @lovebuginlove @calamell @bobohumyonlyboo @smolbeanmika @making-me-blush @wooya1224 @yixing-jaehyun @f4ncyvelvet @lalalala-lav @deligxt @xofanfics @byunsugar @dixnysustae @to-all-the-stories-i-love @artisticcgroove @myexoobsession @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo @nana-banana @mingiandbaconjam @chanyeolscoon (if you don't like angst i'm sorry for tagging you 😭)

A/N: There we go! Please tell me if I honored IM’s amazing song. I listened to it around 5000 times. So guys... can I write angst or not? I don't really know if I like it 🤔

#baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #byun baekhyun #exo smut #baekhyun ff #baekhyun one shot #exo baekhyun #exo fanfic #kpop smut #smut #angst #exo angst #angst with bitter sweet ending

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Stare Enough

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 4034

Summary: Bucky's got a new stare. Sam spends all afternoon and most of the evening working up the courage to meet it.

Both Sam and the food are the main attraction at this party and the problem with that situation is that it takes so damn long for one main attraction to get a second to enjoy the other.

He’s grateful—god, is he grateful—for the turnout. Friends, neighbours, the kind of people he and Sarah call family without there being any actual relation by blood, they’ve all shown up. Since the Blip, Sam’s felt like he’s always around, but this feels like a real homecoming. No sadness, nothing bittersweet. It’s a celebration and he’s at the center of it. Him and the food.

At last, Sam’s done the circuit with his plate, spooning creamy salads and grilled vegetables, stacking shellfish pink as a sunrise. There’s a fresh-baked roll perched atop a scoop of sweet potatoes and caramelized onions that smells so fucking warm and mouth-watering he has to resist walking with his nose buried in it. He collects a set of utensils furled in the middle of a paper napkin (courtesy of an efficient assembly line of old ladies, chatting and twisting neat rolls of cutlery), plate bowing into the palm of his other hand, and that’s when his damn phone vibrates in his pocket.

Sam halts and makes a sound of frustration. Nobody’s come to this thing empty-handed, so there are dishes crowding the surface of the tables, no place to set his plate down. His phone vibrates again. A teenager comes up to peruse the spread in front of him and Sam sighs, knowing what he’s about to do.

“Here,” he says heavily, offering up his beautifully arranged and wonderfully fragrant meal. The cob of corn shining with the butter he lovingly smeared over it nearly rolls over the edge. “You’re the luckiest kid in the world.”

Quickly, Sam turns away, sliding out his phone and bringing it to his ear. He doesn’t want to witness the boy digging in. His stomach growls as he greets Joaquin Torres.

“Sam,” Torres says. “Uh, I mean, sir. Mr. Captain Am… Captain Wil—”

“Take it easy,” Sam laughs. “You know me, Torres. Don’t get starstruck now.”

“Honestly, I never really got over you being the Falcon. Now that you’re Captain America… Apologies if it takes me a little while to be cool about it.” After a pause—taken while Torres attempts to become cool with Sam being Captain America, Sam assumes—he asks, “You celebrating?”

Not far from where Sam’s standing, there are two little girls singing along to their clapping game. At a table behind them, a trio of elderly gentlemen are arguing over which one of them it was that caught that 50-pound snapper off the dock back in 1978. There’s a sear of meat and fish being rotated onto and off of the grill and, bouncing over everything, music from a speaker someplace.

“Yeah,” Sam says with a broad grin. “Yeah, we are. I’d save you a plate, but I can’t even manage to hang onto my own.”

He doesn’t mention that Torres is responsible for that situation; he’s aware that, besides being a fan, the Lieutenant is a little bit infatuated with him. Sam’s trying to be gentle until the day he can respond to Torres with friendly smack-talk, the way he would Steve or Scott or Bucky. Maybe not exactly like he does with Bucky.

“Don’t worry about it,” Torres cheerfully insists. “I wasn’t calling for that, I just wanted to give you a heads up about something.”

“Alright. Let me just…”

Sam strides away from the heart of the party towards the water, seeking quiet. Kids dart in front of him and that’s nothing unusual, but when he follows them with his gaze, he sees they’re running towards Bucky. Bucky, who has his Vibranium arm extended and two kids dangling off it already, one of whom might be Sam’s nephew. Of course, Mr. Casual, Mr. Smiles, Mr. Social Butterfly, is carrying on a conversation like his arm isn’t being used as a jungle gym. A conversation with Sarah.

For just a moment, Sam stops in his tracks, considering whether he should go over there and break up any potential flirting. But then he watches them. Bucky’s just talking to her, not flicking his gaze up and down while he checks her out. And Sarah, she’s relaxed and smiling, totally at ease, like Bucky’s another member of their community. That makes him a friend. Family.

That’s one thought too far and Sam jerks himself into motion again, walking until he’d be swimming with another step.

“What’ve you got for me?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to watch as much of the coverage of the fight outside the GRC vote as I can, trying to get a sense of how they’re spinning Walker’s reappearance, the legacy of the Flag-Smashers now that Karli and her inner circle are gone… Anyway, there’s a lot of footage and you’re at the center of most of it.”

“Guess the new suit draws the eye. And the cameras.” It’s no surprise to Sam. Part of the job of being Captain America.

“Yeah, but…”

“What is it, Torres?”

“Bucky’s in the background a lot,” he explains in a voice that tells Sam there’s more Torres isn’t saying.

“Makes sense. He was in the thick of it as much as I was.”

“He’s there at the end too. When you were talking to the Senator about power and the common struggle. Man, that was a great speech. Do you think—”

“Torres. Please. The point.”

“Right, for sure, man. Bucky never takes his eyes off you.”

That flusters Sam for a second. He wasn’t expecting the blunt delivery, especially of those words. He squints down at the water where it’s lapping the side of the dock. He knew Bucky was there; they spoke right after, when Bucky tried to feed him that bullshit (and he knew it was bullshit at the time) about texting and missing the exact speech Torres is apparently still hung up on.

“So Bucky was actually listening to me,” Sam says carefully. “That’s a surprise, but it isn’t really the kind of thing that’s significant enough for you to bother notifying me about, is it?”

“I’d say that depends on what you consider significant.”

“Torres.”

“I know, but he’s not just listening! It’s how he’s looking at you!”

“Like he’s wishing I would wrap it up?” Oh, Sam remembers Bucky’s miracle from their session with Dr. Raynor.

“Like he’s totally into you! Major heart eyes. Sir,” Torres hastily adds.

And Sam should reprimand him for this. Calling with a trivial piece of information when he must know Sam’s already being very selective about which of the hundreds of recent calls (and it’d be more if more people had this number) he chooses to pick up. Calling to speculate on how Bucky was staring at Sam that night in New York.

“I don’t need to tell you this is gonna be one of those investigations we keep between you and me,” Sam states.

“For sure. I just thought maybe you’d wanna know.”

“Uh huh. You get any real news, you pass it along.”

“I will.”

Sam ends the call and turns. He looks to his right: the sparkling river. His left: his people, all the way down to the squirt with the glasses who’s hanging off a metal arm, and the man that arm belongs to.

He’s felt it, the way that Bucky stares. It’s not like it used to be though, when it irked Dr. Raynor at the police station in Baltimore, or confused Walker and Hoskins in the back of that jeep in Germany. This new stare of Bucky’s isn’t one Sam’s ever caught him doing. Bucky hasn’t quite let him. That’s actually how Sam noticed it was happening—Bucky would immediately glance away instead of leaving that dead expression on his face when Sam met his eye. Now that he has proof of it, proof he’s certain Torres would send him footage of in an instant if he asked, he’s scared to look.

Instead, he watches Bucky look at other people. Like Sarah. Like kids from the neighbourhood. His literal hangers-on disperse as Sam observes, scattered after Bucky leans towards them to say something. Sam sees half his smile and even that much has his heart swelling up in his chest. Bucky weaves through the tables and standing groups, the dancers and the kids who’ve broken out a skipping rope. (After eating from that buffet? Kids are crazy. Gonna make themselves sick.)

Without thinking too hard about it, Sam returns to the noise and the smells, trailing Bucky with a stealthy eye on his ass in those jeans. There’s no friction here between him and everybody else Sam cares about, he can see that in every short, friendly exchange someone engages Bucky in as he walks. Things flow as smoothly as the butter oozing off the corn Sam reluctantly gave up. Clearly, they remember Bucky from when he was here helping with the boat. They respect him. They like him. They’ve gotten to that last thing faster than Sam has, which makes Sam feel a little embarrassed as well as a little overwhelmed by how much the two of them have actually been through. He’s seen Bucky as a mindless killer and it almost brings a genuine tear to his eye—here on this glorious day in front of all these folks—to see the dork who rushed out to get his hands on a copy of The Hobbit in 1937 return in his current form as the dork who’ll take a fake punch from AJ and blush over brazen old women telling him how handsome he is.

Bucky stares different? Well. Sam feels different about the staring.

Sam keeps his distance until Bucky reaches the food, then his stomach gurgles a reminder than he hasn’t eaten yet. No ass is nice enough to distract him from his meal. He sidles up beside him and Bucky seems unsurprised, not even glancing over.

“Anything important?” he asks.

“What?”

“Your phone call,” Bucky clarifies, adding a heap of glossy green beans to his plate. Damn, those are some of Sam’s favourite. Bucky better not take all of them. “They need us somewhere?”

“Oh. No.”

Bucky shoots him a suspicious look after this stilted response, but he doesn’t say anything until Sam grabs a plate of his own, hungry eyes roving the feast that’s diminishing now that people have started coming back for second helpings.

“Put that down,” Bucky instructs. He doesn’t wait; he takes the plate out of Sam’s hand and tosses it back towards the pile. Thankfully, the plates are made of paper.

“Buzz off, man,” Sam tells him, reaching for the plate again. “I’m starving.”

“I figured.”

Wait.

“That’s for me?” he guesses, gazing longingly at the plate Bucky’s preparing.

“Yep.”

When Sam doesn’t reply, Bucky pauses with the plate in one hand and a serving spoon in the other and sighs.

“I didn’t want you to miss the good stuff. This party’s for you.”

“I think it might be for both of us.”

Bucky seems too self-conscious to say anything to that. He goes back to loading up Sam’s plate while Sam quietly feels his throat close up with emotion as he watches. He clears it gruffly.

“I woulda had to eat the cake you brought,” he jokes. “Pretty sure only the really little kids have eaten any. You know, people who don’t know better.”

“I was tryin’ to be a good guest.”

“I can’t believe you brought a store-bought cake,” Sam says, laughing as he grabs a set of cutlery for the second time and continuing to shuffle along next to Bucky.

“Have you ever seen me cook?”

“…No.”

“Exactly. Trust me, what I did was kinder.”

“If you say so.”

“You know what, Sam?” Bucky demands challengingly, turning to face him. “I do say so.”

Sam’s eyes go from the plate Bucky’s holding between them up to Bucky’s face. He’s close. And he’s got this look, this dancing look in his eyes that undercuts the shit out of the hard line of his eyebrows. Trying to seem all stern. All Sam can think for several seconds is that, if he just grabbed Bucky by the chain around his neck and hauled him forward, they’d never get the food stains out of their clothes. But their laundry would smell delicious.

He clears his throat.

“Then you better stay for a while.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitches up and he hands Sam the plate he’s prepared for him.

“I plan to.”

When Sam picks a table to sit at, he makes sure there’s enough room for Bucky too. When Bucky sits next to him, he sits so close that their thighs press together and claims that’s all the space there is. Bucky talks and laughs when other people at the table talk to him. He’s easily drawn into conversation now and Sam feels weirdly proud of having brought this great guy home to meet everybody, even if he’s not here like that. People tells stories about last week and last century interchangeably, one old smartass making Bucky howl with laughter when they toss out a memory of Little Sam Wilson streaking from his house to the river for a naked swim. This is the danger of welcoming Bucky into the community. Sam, suppressing a smile, doesn’t really mind.

Elbows up on the table so he can eat, talk, and gesture emphatically with his fork, Sam feels Bucky’s stare creeping up on him. Slow, like the sun slides across the landscape when the clouds blow past. Bucky didn’t make this food, but Sam can feel his satisfaction as he watches Sam accept what he provided. Feels like there are grasshoppers springing around in his stomach. He still has a roll on his plate, one side soaked in family-secret barbecue sauce, and he tears it in half. While the rest of their table are caught up in some story being boisterously told by overlapping voices, Sam turns to Bucky and wordlessly offers the bread, edges dimpled where he gripped to split it. They watch each other chew and Sam’s closed mouth is smiling.

Inevitably, somebody pulls Sam back into the conversation and he does his best to laugh and heckle, covering the fact that he wasn’t listening, that he dropped the thread. The voices rise and rise and fall like water slopping over the side of a bucket.

In the next quiet moment, Bucky inclines toward him slightly and says, “You wanna talk later?”

And Sam says, “Sure.”

The day feels long, long, long, and Sam’s face gets sore from smiling, tired from talking. He does not confess that to Bucky, who’s almost always at his side. Lights go on overhead and beers come out of coolers, leftover food packed up and redistributed among neighbours, small children with drooping eyelids toted home. At first, Sam thinks Bucky’s leaning into his side because he’s drained from so much socializing too, but when he meets his eye, he just sees an invitation.

“Where are you two goin’?” Sarah asks when they slink past her carrying a too-big Cass in her arms.

“Just walkin’,” Sam tells her.

“Gotta stretch our legs,” Bucky contributes.

She looks from Sam to Bucky and back, smiling knowingly.

“Uh huh,” Sarah says.

Sam grabs Bucky by the shoulder to turn him forcibly away from his sister’s insinuations and just… forgets to let his hand fall as they wander along the water. Bucky’s steps angle towards his until his arm’s bumping Sam’s side, Sam’s arm slung around his shoulders. Is this still the body language of a couple buddies on a warm Delacroix night? Is it now, when Sam drops his arm and brushes the back of his hand across Bucky’s?

They leave the party lights on the horizon with the lazily setting sun, scrabbling off the end of the dock and onto the riverbank. Sam reaches up to give Bucky a hand down, so he won’t step in the soft mud and sink to his ankles. Bucky clasps his hand firmly and jumps.

The sound of people drops off down here and the sound of wind in grass, frogs hiding between reeds, rises.

“Are there alligators in here?” Bucky wonders, scanning the river’s edge.

Sam laughs.

“For sure.”

“And you swam here when you were a kid?”

“Even then,” Sam boasts, puffing his chest out, “my courage was legendary.”

“Yeah, and your nudity. Is there anyone within a mile of here who hasn’t seen your bare ass?”

Their eye contact holds. Oh right. Sam breaks away with an awkward, hiccupping laugh, directing his gaze at the dirt.

“The gators haven’t gathered too close to the dock in decades,” he promises Bucky. He stares out at the undisturbed water, enjoying the sun on his face. “Got skittish of the boats. Most of ’em, anyway.”

“Consider me not entirely reassured.”

“You scared of a little Louisiana lizard, man? Didn’t you grow up with Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

“Nah, that was after my time.”

“Damn, you’re old.”

Bucky snorts a laugh, refusing to look at him.

“You wanna take a dip?” Sam goads.

“No.”

But by the time Sam’s pulling his shirt over his head, Bucky’s peeling off his socks. Sam spares him a smile and keeps going, the ground soft underfoot. It could be like the few times they’ve changed in proximity to one another before, but it’s not. He senses Bucky’s eyes on him the whole time. Face hot, he takes a quick look in Bucky’s direction as he’s unzipping his jeans. His heart feels like his new suit—wings just waiting to unfurl.

When they’re down to their underwear, they wade in.

God, it feels nice. The water’s cool and the sun’s clinging to the horizon.

“Just don’t get any water in your mouth,” Sam instructs, then dunks his face and comes up squirting water at Bucky from between the gap in his front teeth, a trick he perfected as a kid. “That arm ain’t gonna rust, right?”

“You asked for this,” Bucky warns. He points a menacing finger and plunges below the surface.

Sam twists as he treads water, trying to see what’s going on down there, searching for a ripple or bubbles of released air. His legs move in twitchy kicks because that’s where he’s expecting Bucky to grab him. But the idiot is playing some kind of psychological game first, making Sam wait a full minute. Two minutes. Three.

He’s opening his mouth to call out Bucky’s name when he breaks the surface. Sam’s ready to swap the concern he was about to form into words into a taunt instead—did Bucky get down there and decide the scariest thing he could do was let Sam’s imagination take over?—until Bucky shakes his head and slicks his hair back. Then the words get caught in Sam’s throat and he just kinda stares.

“There was a really gross fish down there,” Bucky informs him. “Do you guys have eels there? Mighta been an eel. Maybe we should get out.”

“Alrighty, scaredy-cat, let’s get you to shore.”

Bucky propels himself out in front, arms moving in powerful strokes, and Sam’s hand darts out on instinct, fingers closing around Bucky’s hard calf muscle. Bucky jerks and Sam burst into loud laughter.

“Did you think that was an eel? Did you?”

“You’re lucky I…”

I’m lucky you what? Sam wants to ask when Bucky trails off, but he just swims after him.

During their game/possible eel panic (there’s no way it was an eel), they weren’t always fighting the current, so they’ve drifted downstream some. Bucky takes sloppy, sloshing steps out of the water, underwear that might’ve been light grey now dark and plastered to his ass. Sam feels like he’s choked on river water, though his mouth is dry. He lumbers out too and they begin the march back in the direction of the dock and their clothes. The water tickles as it runs down Sam’s legs; must be bugging Bucky too because he plucks his waistband away from his skin before letting it snap back. Clenching his jaw, Sam stops himself from trying to see too much.

This end of the dock is made of old boards before it transitions to pavement farther down, wood smooth on Sam’s feet when he and Bucky haul themselves up, dropping their collected clothes and shoes into a single pile. No point getting dressed until they’re dry, so they sit on the edge of the dock, feet swinging. Feels good. Feels home. They don’t speak until the sun’s set, the sky orange, then grey, then rich, velvety blue.

“You know, don’t you?” Bucky asks softly.

“Know?”

“Yeah, you know. Whenever you don’t know something, you talk and talk—”

“Sometimes I can work through a problem better if I vocalize,” Sam explains.

“But when you do know,” Bucky goes on, ignoring Sam’s input, “you’re quiet.” He looks at Sam. “You’re quiet.”

What else is Sam? Nervous. His skin’s prickling with it, and because even the warm air feels cold when he’s just climbed out of the river. There’s a wet patch spreading around him that he can barely see with evening rapidly deepening into night. He lifts a hand from the dock and sweeps it up his neck, brushing water droplets away.

Without glancing over, he says, “You’re doing that thing you do.”

“What?”

“Staring. That new stare you do.”

“Maybe,” Bucky acknowledges. A bird starts calling, the sound drifting in and away like the sway of a hypnotist’s watch and Bucky’s silent until it’s over. “Maybe I’m staring for the same reason you’re quiet.”

Sam waits. Bucky doesn’t add anything, so Sam turns to look at his face, hung with cool shadows.

“You’re not gonna say it, are you?”

“I thought you would say it,” Bucky argues defensively.

“You’re the one who’s been staring at me like that for a week. You should go first!”

“Please, you don’t even know how I’m staring at you, I only do it when you’re not looking.”

“Do it now then and see what happens,” Sam dares him.

“Fine.”

Just like that, Bucky locks in like Sam’s attention is the only handhold on a sheer cliffside. Vital and stable, a last chance, the one thing around him that wants to help him higher instead of watching him fall. A lot of that’s familiar from his regular hard stare, but then something opens up behind his eyes. Some fragile thing (that might be Bucky’s sense of caution) breaks. Suddenly, Sam’s seeing what Joaquin saw in the news footage and amateur cell phone video. Except he’s seeing it two feet in front of him. It’s intense. It makes the air a little harder to breathe.

Bucky’s lips curve into a smile, then part as he says, “I love—”

Hopefully, he wasn’t going to end that sentence with ‘store-bought cake,’ because Sam can’t really take back his reaction. The finger slipping behind Bucky’s ear as he cradles his face, the mouth sealed to his. Especially that. Thankfully, Bucky kisses him back, just as hard, and then harder.

“Thank god,” Sam pants when they break apart.

“You interrupted me.”

“I got you to stop talking? Guess we’re in my miracle.”

“I’d complain…” Bucky shrugs. “…but your miracle is pretty nice.”

“Not bad, right?”

He sighs and looks out over the water. Bucky pushes up on his fists and sits closer, offering his hand for Sam to interlace their fingers.

“Hey,” Sam prompts when it hits him that it’s super dark outside and they aren’t gonna dry much more like this, “did you book a hotel room again?”

“You kiddin’ me? I spent all my money on that cake.”

Sam laughs.

“Right, well, I guess you need a place to stay tonight then.”

“You know anything nearby?” Bucky asks with a soft smile.

Getting to his feet and bracing to pull Bucky up after him, Sam uses his free hand to motion towards their clothing pile.

“Put your pants on,” he says, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #CAPTAIN AMERICA AND THE WINTER SOLDIER #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Joaquin Torres #Sarah Wilson #sambucky #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes