#with ''what's needed'' i obviously mean ''enough so i won't have to come back here next month'' :\ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sanguineterrain · 27 days

Note

Hello madame terrain, I have been thinking about boxer!jason for some time now and I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about him? if not that's totally okay too ☺️ love all your writing!!!

lol hi, madame terrain is adorable 💕 also boxer jason is big brained!!! let's do it ;)

boxer!jason todd x gn!reader. reader is an apprentice to a ringside doctor (leslie thompkins). tw creepy OMC intimidates reader, jason protects/defends r, fluff, my attempt at boxing stuff.

****

Leslie said she'd be back in an hour.

You're currently at the thirty minute mark, hoping for a natural disaster, an angel, anything, because...

"Doc gives me stuff for my pain all the time," Keith says for the third time. "It's real simple."

Keith Dixon is one of the gym's regular fighters. You haven't seen enough matches to judge his fighting, but you can confidently say that his people skills are in the toilet.

He'd barged into the office ten minutes ago and had refused to leave even when you said Leslie was out.

You need to make a break for it.

"You have to wait for Dr. Thompkins," you say, lifting your chin. You won't give in and risk losing this job. No way in hell. "I can't administer medications. I'm not licensed."

Keith rolls his eyes. He's a hothead, new to Gotham. Likes to fight. Likes to fight mean.

"Look, you're new. I'm just giving you a heads-up on how things work around here," he says, backing you up further. You're nearly against the wall.

Where the hell is Leslie?

"I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon, but I can't prescribe painkillers without her supervision."

"Uh-huh. Know what I think? I think you're just not cut out for the ring," Keith says, cornering you against the cabinet. "Cute thing like you shouldn't be hiding in an office. The Doc ought to know better..."

"Is there a problem?"

The new voice makes you flinch, just a little. Keith pulls back, posture easy but guarded. The second guy holds himself similarly. He's also well-built, clad in a gray tee and black sweatpants. His hands are wrapped.

"J-man," Keith says, daggers in his teeth. "Man, I thought you were benched for the week. You meet our new assistant? They're still getting used to how things run around here."

The mystery man looks at you. His eyes are a lovely teal.

"Is he botherin' you?" he asks.

"I—" You swallow. "I was just explaining to Keith that I can't administer medicine without Dr. Thompkins."

Keith huffs. "Jason, tell 'em how this works."

Jason faces Keith. They nearly match each other in height and bulk. You hope to God they don't decide to brawl here and now.

"I think you're the one who needs a reminder, Dixon," Jason says coolly. "Seems pretty straightforward to me. You need to wait for the Doc. So was there something else you needed?"

Keith's mouth presses into a line. You can tell he's got about a hundred ugly thoughts on his tongue right now.

"Nope," he grits out.

"Mm. Then step off."

Keith obeys. You slip out of the corner.

"I'll come back," he says.

"When the Doc's here," Jason adds. It doesn't sound like a suggestion. "If y'need a reminder of her schedule, I don't mind giving you one."

Keith looks at you. You hold his gaze, heart pounding.

"Of course," he says, all false charm, and pushes past Jason. "See ya in the ring, J.T."

You can't relax even after Keith leaves. Jason remains in the doorway. You close your eyes at the thought of dealing with another fighter. It's not bad with Leslie here, but this is your first time alone. It's already a disaster.

Obviously, none of the fighters respect you like they respect Leslie, even after three weeks of you working here. You don't even know all of the fighters.

"Hey." Jason doesn't move from his spot as he asks. "Y'okay?"

"Yes," you say, keeping your back straight. "I'm fine. Do you need medical attention?"

"I just came to get some more wraps. But I can get 'em at home."

His voice is softer now that Keith's gone.

"No need," you say. "That's what I'm here for."

You get a roll of tape from the drawer. It takes you three tries to pull the edge out. You drop it twice.

You feel Jason's eyes on you. You keep pulling the tape, but it won't comply.

"I got it," he says. "I can wrap myself. Toss it here."

You pause, tape half unfurled. "Dr. Thompkins told me to do all wraps myself."

"Leslie's cool. I won't tell her, anyway."

You shake your head. "Why don't you want me to wrap your hands?"

Jason glances to the side. He leans against the doorframe, purposely casual.

"'Cause Keith's a big guy. And I'm a big guy. And your hands are still shaking."

You tighten your grip on the tape.

Jason gestures to the office. "This is your space. I won't come in if you don't want me to. That's not how this works."

"It's... it's the job," you say, startled. "I don't—I've heard that Keith's rough with everybody."

"Yeah, well, he's an asshole. You shouldn't have to be rough back. Good fighters turn it off outside of the ring. I don't want to make you feel small. Alright?"

Tension bleeds out of your spine. You no longer feel like prey.

"It's easier if I wrap them for you," you say, and turn your back on him to fetch the antiseptic.

The tiles behind you creak as Jason hesitates for a moment. Then he walks in and sits in a chair, so you're higher than him.

He looks up at you. He really does have beautiful eyes. His eyelashes are dark and delicate. There's a faded bruise on his cheek.

He's boyishly handsome, with a mouth that looks like it smiles a lot.

"Do you also fight here?"

He nods. "Since I was eighteen. Been here a while."

You take one of his hands in both of yours. Jason's already thrown out the old tape. His knuckles are cut up. They're covered in scars. His fingernails are short and neat.

His hands are big, far bigger than yours. Veins feed into each other from the backs of his hands up his forearms.

You take out the antiseptic spray.

"Might be cold," you warn.

"'S okay."

You spray his skin. Jason doesn't even flinch.

"Your hands are really soft," he says.

"Oh, thank you. I use Isley's Salve. Works great."

Why did you share that?

Jason's mouth quirks. "Yeah? Might have to try that. My hands have seen better days."

"I have some in my bag." You let go of the half-done wrap and dig through your backpack. You pull out the small tube of salve and squeeze some onto his hands.

Jason is quiet and still as you rub in the lotion. He's pliant as you finish the wraps, letting you turn his hands over. You pull the wraps tight.

"All done," you say, face suddenly warm like you've been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.

He flexes his hands a few times. "Thanks. You're good. I can see why Leslie chose you as her apprentice."

You shrug. "Anybody can wrap hands."

"Dunno. I've seen some pretty shit wraps in my time."

"Oh. Well, um, I'm here most of the time, so feel free to come by and get your wraps changed."

He hums. "Sure. Don't worry 'bout Keith. I'll take care of it."

Your eyes widen. "I don't want more trouble..."

"You won't get trouble, I promise. We don't tolerate that here. 'Sides, he's overstayed his welcome."

You nod. "Okay. Thank you, Jason."

"No need for thank you's. Y'alright getting home?"

"Yes, I'm okay. Leslie's dropping me."

Jason nods, then picks himself up. He pauses like he wants to say something else, but he strides out of the room like he's in a rush instead.

"Well, um. G'night," he says over his shoulder. "Take care."

It's about fifteen more minutes until Leslie returns.

"Everything alright?" she asks in a tone that tells you she already knows the answer. "I ran into Jason on my way in. He said Keith Dixon gave you some trouble. I'm sorry I took so long. Are you alright?"

"You ran into—I thought Jason went home for the night."

Leslie looks like you've just told her the sky is red. "He wanted to make sure you were okay. So he waited till I came back. Are you okay? Did Keith hurt you?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm alright. Just shaken up. He's a bully. Wanted painkillers."

Leslie frowns. "He won't bother you again. I'll make sure you're not alone."

"It's okay. I mean, Jason was there."

She nods. "Mm. He's a good boy. I know his father."

"Yeah, he, uh, was nice. I wrapped his hands."

Leslie raises an eyebrow. Your shoulders rise.

"What?" you ask. "You said to practice my wraps."

She shrugs. "Nothing, nothing. I did tell you that. I'm glad you got some practice in."

You follow her to her car. Soon, Leslie pulls out of the lot.

"Leslie, do you mind if we stop at CVS?"

"Sure. What for?"

You feel for the little tube in your pocket.

"Need more Isley's Salve... I'm, uh, running low."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #dc fanfic #batman fanfiction #batman imagine #boxer jason todd #inbox #blurb

421 notes · View notes

help-itrappedmyself · 2 months

Text

Summoning Game Show Part 7

Masterpost

Okay. This is technically the end of Summoning Game Show! There is room to write more, but that probably won't be coming for a little bit. Thank you to everyone for reading and commenting and sharing. I am so so happy that people liked it and interacted and everything. I had a great time and I hope you like the end.

~~~~~

Red, Nightwing, and Robin soon find themselves in an office/meeting room of sorts. They’re seated on a couch in front of a table.

Danny closes the door behind them. “I would offer you a drink, but I don’t think you could drink it.”

Danny takes a seat on a loveseat across the table from them. He has a small green dog with a spiky collar sitting in his lap and he pets him absentmindedly as he gets settled. Robin is laser focused on the dog.

“What would you guys like to talk about?”

“Who is that?” Robins asks immediately.

“This is Cujo!” Danny smiles down at the Cujo and he wags his tail when he hears his name. “You guys don’t mind him being in here right? He’s mostly well behaved.”

Robins shakes his head. “We don’t mind. Just…”

“Ah, dead animal. Well, animals get ghosts too.” Danny explains. “ Personally, I like to think that Cujo is happy.”

“His collar says Axion Labs.”

Danny nods at Robin, fingers playing with the collar. “ He used to be a guard dog for them.”

“What-” Robin is cuts off as Danny and Cujo start glowing more brightly, Cujo starts growling and his form flickers.

“Never- never- ask a ghost how they died.” The boys all nodded, and Danny and Cujo stabilized as they calmed down. “It’s very rude. Now, to business, why did you want to summon me? ”

“We do a lot of travel, space, dimensions and everything and we just wanted to learn more about this realm. Maybe set up communications, that kind of thing. A learning experience.” Nightwing explains.

“I mean, we clearly don’t know enough considering we didn’t know you could help Hood. Or that he needed help in the first place.” Red mutters the last bit.

Danny eyes them all warily. “Historically, we don’t really do well when people want to learn more about us. What exactly do you need this information for?

“”Just to learn. I told you, I like to know things.” Red said.

“Well, I can’t just give out any information, but if you want to ask me some questions until Hood gets back, I’ll answer what I can.”

“What is this place actually called?” Nightwing asks.

“Oh, it has lots of names, because it’s lots of places. This is the Infinite Realms, home to all afterlives and the dimension between dimensions.”

“Home to all afterlives?” Red is flabbergasted. Red wasn’t sure that he believed in any afterlives, and now there are multiple? “So you’re all dead?”

“No.” They wait a moment but Danny does not elaborate.

“So there are living people here?” Nightwing asks.

“Obviously.”Danny makes a face at them. “Everyone here is living. You need better terminology. Humans are very narrow when it comes to life and death.”

“That’s because usually you’re either dead or alive.” Robin is struggling to comprehend the possibility of an in-between.

“That seems very narrow-minded coming from people who came here with someone both alive and dead.”

“Hood?” Red asks.

“Hood is alive.” Nightwing states.

“And dead!” Danny chirps. “There are many in-betweens, most leaning to one side or the other. Hood leans more towards being alive, but his being alive is dependent on ectoplasm, so he’s at least a little dead. Though the fact that he was able to live with the ectoplasm he has means that he is mostly alive.”

“What is ectoplasm and how did Hood get it?” Red is very curious now.

“Oh, everything. Most of the Infinite Realms is made out of ectoplasm , including most creatures in it. “ Danny puts his hand together and green liquid pools in it. The same green as everything outside.

“So, that’s probably the Lazarus pits.” Red mutters. “ Explains the exposure bit.”

“You have ectoplasm in your dimension?” Danny asks.

The boys nod. “There are a few pools of it around. One guy in particular likes to hoard them to keep from dying.”

Danny frowns.

“That’s a violation. Ectoplasm is poisonous for humans, radioactive.” Danny complains. “And if his ectoplasm is as bad as the ectoplasm in your friend, that is not healthy.”

“It would be, he’s the one who exposed Hood to it in the first place.”

Danny groans. “Alright, I’m going to need a list of all the locations you know of in your dimension, and if you have a way for me to contact whoever is hoarding the ectoplasm that would be great. I’m going to have to take care of that.”

There’s a knock on the door and Danny calls, “Come in!”

Frostbite opens the door for Hood, who comes in without his helmet, but with a mask on. “Guys, this is my new doctor. He’s great.” Hood says.

“Glad you’re doing better!” Danny smiles at them both as Hood takes a seat. Frostbite nods his head, then leaves again, shutting the door behind him. “Frostbite gave you a rundown of what’s to do and what’s going to happen now that you have healthy ectoplasm?”

“Yep, explained all the side effects, but I’m already feeling much better.”

“Wonderful! So If you guys wouldn’t mind just giving me that information so I can follow up on it, I think we’re done here.”Danny stands, putting Cujo on the seat as he vacates it.

“We would like to be able to get in contact with you, if you’re coming to our dimension, that way we can tell the rest of the heroes what you’re up to and everything. Is there any way to communicate between our dimensions?” Red asks.

“Frostbite also said I would need to discuss a way to get fresh ectoplasm from you until I can create my own reliably.” Jason cuts in.

“Well, looks like I have lots of business in your dimension. Do you guys have communicators that you use? Anything from your dimension on you right now?”

They all nod. “Cool, hand me something, two-way, that you don’t mind losing because after I fix it up you won’t be able to contact anyone except for me on it.”

Red hands him a phone, Danny opens it up and messes with the insides before putting it back together. Then he turns it on and calls his Ghost business phone so he would have the number. He hands Red back the phone, picking his own up. “What should I name you guys? Is it always going to be Red on the phone?”

“Probably not.” Red says. “Especially if Hood needs things from you as well. Just put us under Bats.”

“Bats is weird, but whatever you say.” Danny finishes with his phone and smiles up at them. “Thanks for competing! I’ll be in touch.”

608 notes · View notes

luveline · 6 months

Note

PLEASE I NEED MORE STRIPPER READER X AARON

cw reader is able to wear hotch's clothes, adult theme mdni

Your hands ache. You have calluses on your palm, unsightly, but if you were to soak them off you'd bleed.

The club is practically dead. You can get away with a low effort routine —old men and day drunks don't care what you're doing so long as they can see your chest. The level of undress is your choice (though the girls willing to dance fully nude get the better slots, obviously), and you've been doing this for long enough that it doesn't really bother you when a patron shouts for you to take your bra off. Your hand is slipping behind your back for the clasp when you notice him near the bar.

Agent Hotchner —you can call me Hotch— usually catches your attention and leaves. A quick nod after he's met your eyes, he'll wait for you to get dressed and meet him out front near his intimidating car. But today he watches even after you smile hello, and someone close by throws a ten at your feet like you'd been smiling for them. He's expressionless.

It's far more difficult to finish your dance knowing he's watching. He doesn't stay for long, ten seconds at most, but those ten seconds are much longer than he's ever watched you perform before.

You finish your dance, collect your tips, and trudge back to the dressing rooms. You would've made more money if you'd stripped down. Not much considering the small audience, but some. You can't explain why seeing Hotch had made you stay your hand, maybe because he's one of the only men you know who treats you like you're fully human. You don't want that to change.

It's colder outside than it was when you arrived. Traffic is picking up as people leave their jobs for the day, and the club will be busier in the night hours. You'll stay, hopefully make enough for food this week.

"Are you warm enough?" he asks immediately.

"I didn't bring my jacket." You shrug. "I'd rather be out here with you." Than go back inside, no matter how cold.

He opens his trunk with a click of the key fob and disappears behind the tail end. You can see his arm move, a bundle of black fabric. His arm flexes as he closes the trunk, and his eyebrows have hooked together when he returns to you.

"Here," he says, "it should fit."

Just a simple charcoal quarter zip. You shrug it on over your clothes and find yourself immediately greeted by the smell of men's cologne. His cologne.

"What can I help you with today, Mr. Hotchner?" you ask. You're flirting in that useless way where it doesn't mean a thing, and he knows that, because, as you've come to find about these special agents, they know everything.

"I wanted to ask you to dinner."

"Oh, I don't… I don't do the escort stuff," you say gently.

"I know." He turns his head away from you. "I realise that it's unprofessional. I know it puts you in an uncomfortable position to say no. But I want to take you out for dinner, if you'd let me."

You stare at him. "I won't sleep with you after one fancy dinner–"

"It's not like that." He speaks so calmly, so quietly.

It doesn't make any sense. He's a professional man in a successful career, with a son if you remember correctly, and a circle of peers his own age and status. If he doesn't want to fuck you, if he really wants to take you out for dinner, that's a date.

"What, you want to be my boyfriend?" you ask, shaking your head, lips pulled down in a frustrated frown.

"I– well, if things went well, I wouldn't be opposed to it." He laughs.

"Are you messing with me?"

"No, I'm sorry. I just wasn't prepared for the question."

He meets you head on. Face to face and eye to eye, he looks at you with, for once, a completely readable expression. It's a bit startling. The slight lift to his brow and his half-smile, it's an expression that says, If you want to. It puts all the choice in your hands.

"I know we don't know one another that well, I," —his eyes soften another shade, tenderness like no one's ever given you— "wanted to make my intentions clear to you. I didn't want to continue our professional relationship and then pull the rug out from under you later."

You know Hotch through car rides, mostly. He's taken you home from a couple of places now, usually after he's asked you questions about someone or something to do with the sex trafficking ring currently being squashed in Virginia. He's nice. You've told him without fretting about the consequences that he's handsome. When you first met, you asked him why gentlemen like him didn't come to see you dance.

You didn't think the answer was that they might grow to have feelings for you.

You wonder if he's just lonely. But lonely Hotch could still have a number of women that aren't you, right?

"Like you'd never get a handle on it?" you ask, subtly teasing.

He reacts to your tone visibly. His smile gets worse, which is to say better, and his voice sounds similarly teasing as he answers, "I tried to. That's exactly what you need, another old man with the wrong idea."

"I don't think you have the wrong idea, Hotch."

"But you don't reject that I'm old?"

You leap to correct him through laughter, surprised at his quick wit, and he leaps to let you know he's kidding through his own. You tell him while things are warm that you'd like to go to dinner with him, if he really means it, and he holds one of your hands like a prince, thumb ghosting over your knuckles, unafraid of the calluses on your hands. He touches you like you're made of glass.

You try to give him back his jacket before he leaves, but he insists you keep it. "If you freeze before I get to take you out, I won't forgive you."

Huh, you think as he drives away, waving, the sleeve of his borrowed jacket falling down your arm. Who knew Special Agent Hotchner was a flirt?

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

863 notes · View notes

dotster001 · 9 months

Note

I came running once I saw requests were open. Can I please get househusband Riddle, Leona, Cater, Deuce, and Kalim? Ty! Love your work.

3k follower Masterlist

Part One part three

Obviously, there's no world where this man starts out as a househusband. He's a highly paid Doctor to start out. Then you two adopt a baby. After his own childhood, he wants to give a child a chance that he didn't have. While You're both working, you still have more time to spend with the baby. When Riddle finds out he misses the baby's first words, he puts in his two weeks immediately.

He's still strict, but it's in a much more manageable way. He is a good tutor though, so all the neighborhood kids come to him for homework advice. Eventually, at the behest of some very stressed neighborhood moms, he starts a homeschool group.

The house is always spick and span, everything is in place. The home, and everything in it is white or red, looking very professional.

Every meal includes the proper portions of each food group. But there's also a rather sumptuous strawberry dessert at the end of every meal. He asked Trey to teach him as many recipes as he can. But that means…some of them look really good, but every once in a while, one looks like a gooey mess. It still tastes good, but he feels self conscious about it.

Like Idia, he's only technically a househusband. He's an influencer, and he works from home. But according to his sisters, that's not a job, so call him what you will 😡

As much as he insists he's not a househusband, he sure acts like it. He says it's for his magicam, but you've caught him dutifully icing a cake with no camera present.

Like Riddle, he's super color coordinated, there's just much more variety of colors. And every room is designed in a way that can be "cammable" at a moment's notice.

He drives to your work everyday with a bagged lunch, and makes you eat with him. He never skips a day, even if he's sick. And he always adds a cutie element, like cutting your sandwich into shapes, or drawing a picture on the bag.

He's a trophy househusband. Not doing anything. He hires a maid and a butler using his leftover allowance from his time living with his brother.

He's never worked a day in his life, and doesn't intend to start now.if you confront him about his laziness and spending habits, he'll say something like, "Baby, my job is to be here and look pretty when you get home. If you no longer want to be cuddled, then I can start doing housework." Obviously, that's not what you want.

Tbh you have no idea what he even does all day. You leave and come back hours later to him in the same spot and same position.

He's average.but like, in a good way.

He puts 110% effort into everything. He likes to cook, but he has a 75% success rate. He's decent at cleaning, but he breaks stuff from time to time. Sometimes it's been three days and he remembers he's supposed to walk your overweight dog everyday.

But he's so happy to do what he does. And it's human to make mistakes. Plus, Everytime you forgive him for one, he goes husband mode, and makes out with you hard. (It used to be delinquent mode, but then he realized he could use it to his advantage)

He's still a rascal, still picks fights with some of the neighbors over how he can keep the grass as tall as he wants, still gets into trouble when Ace comes over to visit. But he's less likely to beat someone up so bad that you need to bail him out again

*Sighs* a part of you knows that this might be a game to him. But you can't really blame him.

He has enough money that neither of you would have to work in your life. But for whatever reason, you feel the need to. Perhaps it's you also playing the game.

See, someday he has to take over his father's business. So you think that's why he wants to play house right now. Because he knows one day he won't get the chance.

Jamil lives in the guestroom, and does his best not to ruin the immersion. You can usually tell who cooked dinner that day (no offense Kalim) But other than that, Kalim gets left to his own devices.

He's the kind that will wake you up at three in the morning to tell you he reorganized the kitchen. When you go to look the next morning, half of it's a disaster, the other half just doesn't make sense. But he's so proud, and waiting for you to tell him he did a good job, so he'll keep doing it.

He's also the kind that you come home, and he has a whole litter of puppies, with a pout on his face as he begs if you can keep them 🥺

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #3k followers #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #cater diamond x reader #cater x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #kalim x reader #kalim al asim x reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce x reader

618 notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 28 days

Text

Alpine

prompt: in an effort to help your boyfriend with his trauma, you rescue a furry feline together - a white cat named, Alpine - who rescues you both in return.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 6.9k+

note: been seeing a lot of Alpine recently and got inspired.

second note: no, it's not comic / canon compliant so just have fun. author did some research but there's not a LOT written / known about Alpine, so, again, just have fun!

warnings: post Endgame, pre tfaws; cursing, Lord's name in vain, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Nick Fury calling reader a bitch playfully, Bucky's trauma responses, small spoilers, Dr. Raynor / therapy.

other works with Widow!reader and Bucky NOT necessary to read

read here: Damage Done

"Are you angry with me?"

"No."

"Disappointed? Annoyed? Frustrated?"

"No, doll."

"Then why won't you talk to me!?"

"Nothing to say."

You wiped a hand down your face, lifting it only to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your head shook to shake away your thoughts, sniffling emotion, sighing when you dropped your hand to slap against your thigh. "I'm really trying here, Bucky, I swear to you, I am. But I can't help if you don't talk to me," you softened your voice, beginning to understand this was a losing battle.

"I never said I needed help."

"You never have to ask me for help, Bucky, I just give it because I want to! Because I love you! That's part of being in a relationship!"

"Maybe I don't want it!" Your boyfriend snapped, rounding on you with unfiltered emotion in his eyes. The horrors swam in his baby blues, vivid memories he was unable to escape haunting him, terrorizing him; creating a shell of a man who could no longer hide his avid pain. "Did you ever think about that? Ever consider that I don't want your help because I don't need it?"

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Buck."

"No, not everyone - I'm not one of your pet projects, you don't get to treat me like a broken thing that needs fixed! I certainly don't need your pity - not yours."

"I don't pity you! Fuck's sake, Bucky, I love you and want to see you heal. I know you better than anyone - "

"You don't," he sneered, cutting you off. "You don't know me, not really, not as well as Steve - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Steve isn't here! He's not coming back!" You snapped, instantly regretting it when Bucky's eyes coated with glassy emotion he fought vehemently to keep down. "I-I'm sorry, that was - that was really mean of me and totally out of line," you apologized, both sighing deeply. "All right, look, let's just talk this out, please."

"There's nothing to say."

Your hip cocked, arms crossing, "She called me, you know."

"Who?"

"Dr. Raynor."

"Fuck's sake," he growled. "Why would she do that?"

"Maybe because today's session was, apparently, supposed to be a couples session. She thought I was refusing, called to say I was impeding on your progress and if I want to help you, I'd have to show up to your appointments. Which is really funny because you never told me about today, so I had no idea what the hell she was talking about - but that didn't stop her from tearing me a new asshole!"

He frowned, avoiding your eyes. "I didn't need a couples session. Not today, I just - I wanted today to focus on other shit."

"And I can respect that, but you're not doing yourself any favors by hiding shit from me. To get the best results from therapy, you have to actually do the work, and not just do what Dr. Raynor says, but actually listen to her advice - "

"I don't need you on my back about this, Raynor does that enough for you both," Bucky growled. "I do the fucking work - I'm the one in that room, I'm the one applying silly little rules to my life - "

"Obviously not if you didn't even tell me Raynor requested my attendance! You should've told me, and then you should've said you weren't ready! I would've respected that, but I can't do a Goddamn thing if you don't talk to me!"

His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth, skin twitching and distinct muscles tightening. "Like I said, there's nothing to talk about," he practically spat, shaking his head at you before grabbing his sneakers from the closet.

You didn't mean to sound harsh, but demanded, "Where are you going? We're in the middle of a conversation."

"No, we're not, 'cause I'm ending it," he scoffed, sitting on the corner of your shared mattress, exchanged his shoes. "And I'm going for a run, need to clear my head."

You shook your head before leaving the bedroom, "Absolutely unbelievable."

Bucky left your shared apartment a few minutes later, somewhere you've only lived five months - the time it's been since Tony Stark, Iron Man, snapped the other half of living beings back into existence. He lost his life in return, the ultimate sacrifice, but he managed to reverse the damage Thanos created five years prior. Five months of living in this apartment without a lick of warmth, personal touch, or real sentiment; it being dreary, dark, and mostly empty. Hell, Bucky didn't even feel comfortable in bed, so he camped in the barren living room, giving visual to the way your relationship was beginning to fray, unravel, crack.

He didn't want anything personal in your apartment - thinking it was ridiculous to settle down after all you two have endured, witnessed, and fought for. You agreed to keep things at the bare minimum, only stocking what was necessary, knowing this was part of his healing process and didn't want to drum-up further anxiety. It made everything impersonal, boring, bland, and down right depressing - but it was a small accommodation you could provide your lover.

You hated the distance. Hated how alone Bucky felt after Steve. Hated how reclusive he became, the anger he projected. Hated how no matter what you did, you weren't enough - not this time. For years, you've loved him despite his flaws, his brainwashing, his trauma responses, but whatever he was enduring now was something you weren't equipped to handle. Didn't mean you weren't willing to try, but Bucky was the one pushing you away; thinking his demons were his sole responsibility, never letting you be the pillar that helped support him. God, you hated the distance.

You left the apartment, too. Nick Fury had employed you for creative, solo, high profile missions; wanting to utilize your Widow training, especially now that Natasha Romanoff was deceased. And you wanna know what? Bucky hadn't even asked about her, never tried to offer comfort, only quietly attending the funeral service you hosted with the remaining Avengers to give her a proper sendoff - despite there being no body. Bucky knew you and Nat were as thick as thieves, family without blood, two lost souls who leaned on each other in trying times; bonded by trauma, encouraged by resounding bravery, disciplined by strength. The fact that your boyfriend never even checked in with you after Nat's passing obviously hurt your feelings but you remained silent.

Again, to avoid generating more anxiety for Bucky.

You met the one-eyed man at a local, bustling coffee shop, finding the sight of the hardened, burly man eating a scone amusing. "Got you one of these," he nudged a dessert plate to your side of the table when you sat down with your desired coffee, "know you like 'em."

"Blueberries are my favorite," you half-smirked, regarding the moist muffin and sighing sadly. "All right, sir, what's on the docket?"

He stared at you for a moment, chewing thoughtfully before leaning back in his chair. "The fuck's going on with you?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You look different today."

"Mh," you nodded, joking, "got a hair cut."

"No, it's your aura. Something bothering you, kid?"

"You do realize I'm a fully grown adult, right?"

Nick shrugged, "I don't see age."

"You don't - nobody sees age, Nick, Jesus."

He took a sip of his green tea. "There's still something bothering you. Not sure if you should go on this mission if you're wound tight."

"I'm just dealing with shit at home."

"Oh, right, the cyborg. How is the hundred year old psycho?"

"You you want me to stab out your other eye? 'Cause I fucking will," you threatened with a fork clenched in your grasp, perking your brows up your forehead. "Say that shit again, see what the fuck I do, Nick, I absolutely dare you."

He chuckled, hands held in defense, "Sorry, sorry, that was uncalled for. What's wrong with Sergeant Barnes?"

You shrugged, "It's complicated."

"Bitch, aliens opening a wormhole in space and time to invade Earth is complicated - relationships aren't. Try me."

After an amused chuckle, you told him, "He's struggling right now. You know? After everything, it's been a lot for him and now that things are relatively back to normal, he's having a hard time trying to assimilate himself back into the populace. You know, learning to live in this day and age - a man out of time, outside his comfort zone, forced to adjust himself after living as a weapon of mass destruction for so long. Add in the fact that his best friend passed, marking another forceful adjustment he's unprepared for..."

"Hm," Nick nodded, "heard he's got a full pardon."

"He does."

"Which has a contingency he's gotta go to therapy, right? Part of rejoining society?"

You nodded, "Right, again."

"So he's in therapy and still struggling?"

"It's not like there's an on-off switch, Nick, therapy takes time and dedication. I just don't think he feels at peace, calm, in control - like he deserves any of this; the pardon especially. Think the stress, fear, and confusion is eating at him."

"Well, he's got you."

"I'm not his mother."

"No, you're his girlfriend, and it's a girlfriend's responsibility to support him, ain't it? Help him through this?"

"I can only do so much, Nick," you scoffed, "I'm just one person and he's a stubborn jackass - he just pushes me away. I'm sure I don't help the situation by accepting your contracts."

Fury considered your words for a long moment, then asked, "You said he's lonely?"

"Wouldn't you? Given his situation? He won't say, but I know losing Steve caused a part of him die."

Nick shrugged, "So get him a dog."

You never wouldn't guessed those words could ever pass Nick Fury's lips, head cocking, eyes narrowing, arms crossed over your chest. "I'm sorry, do what now?"

"It's obvious, ain't it? Dude needs company when you're gone, a sense of purpose, to feel like there was something - or someone - depending on him. Might help whatever limbo he's lingering in."

"A dog?"

"A dog. He can take it for walks or whatever."

You considered his recommendation, asking again, "A dog?"

"Do we need to get your hearing checked again? You lose the last functionality of your ears? Yes, a dog."

"I don't know..."

"It's just a suggestion, might promote his peace, help him process grief and guilt. Telling you, a dog would do him good. Now," he took another sip of tea, "onto business."

"You give me whiplash," you chuckled. "What's this job?"

"Simple and easy," he pulled up a tablet from the chair beside him, tapping it three times and handing it to you.

"None of your jobs are simple or easy, Nicky-Nick."

"I told you, don't call me that. Look, I just need you in London to investigate a string of potential terrorist activity. Just some recon, you won't be gone more than a few days - if you behave and stay on task."

You scanned the document, "When do I ever do that?" He chuckled briefly, you wondering, "Flagsmashers? Jesus, what a name. C'mon, you can't be serious. These guys are just radicals - you know, trying to vouch for those displaced after the Blip. It's actually kinda endearing, I mean, they're trying to give a microphone to those without a voice."

"They're escalating - too quickly," Fury informed. "They haven't raised any international flags yet, but something ain't right about them. I just need you as eyes and ears, maybe report if you think they're worth the worry."

Little did you know, in only about a month, you would join forces with Bucky and Sam Wilson - The Falcon - to dismantle the organization.

"When do I leave?"

"Tuesday would be ideal. But I can push it to Friday if you wanna go get that dog."

Your laughter was endearing, handing the tablet back over.

Bucky liked holding hands, though, he often wouldn't ever voice it. It made him feel tethered, anchored to reality; instilling a sense of pride to have such a gorgeous lady - such as yourself - at his side. However, the part he liked most, was being reminded he wasn't alone; even when on crowded, overpopulated streets, he didn't have to be afraid because with his hand in yours, he looked just like everyone else. You protected him even without intending to or without even knowing what you were doing.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he sighed, people on the street sidestepping and avoiding running into you two. "I was upset, stressed out, you know how I get after seeing Raynor."

"It's okay, baby," you assured, ever the patient, loyal, and supportive girlfriend he needed. "I'm not holding it against you, but just promise me, when you're ready, you'll tell me."

He nodded, "I will - I mean, I promise." You hummed and pet his bicep with your other hand, giving his arm a hug. "Now are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

He was ready to reply when a small commotion echoed from the alley you were passing, Bucky coming to a jarring halt that yanked on your arm, swinging you around. You were ready to ask what was happening when you clocked one of Bucky's "friends", an older man named Yori Nakajima, arguing with one of his neighbors.

"Hey, hey, Yori," Bucky intervened, you watching from the mouth of the alley, "woah, hey, what's going on?"

You couldn't hear whatever Yori was saying, but Bucky turned to the other man and growled something at him that made the neighbor scurry off. He glared at you, lip curled in a sneer, disappearing amongst patrons of the crowded sidewalk. You frowned and approached Yori and Bucky, your boyfriend still trying to calm his friend - well, 'friend' was a very generous term. See, Yori was the father of a young man that died by the hand of the Winter Soldier, being a name on Bucky's list he needed to make amends with.

However, when you took your place beside Bucky, Yori was waving you both off and shuffling down the alley, towards one of his apartment building's doors. "What was that all about?" You asked softly, taking note of the disgruntled expression your boyfriend usually wore these days.

"Just," he sighed, shaking his head, "Yori's upset with some of his neighbors - thinks they're encroaching on being disrespectful."

"When doesn't he?" Bucky sighed, you wondering softly, "You think you're ever gonna feel ready to tell him?"

"I'm working on it," he sighed sadly. "All right, c'mon - "

You both paused with furrowed brows when there came a series of shrill meows from under a couple of soggy, cardboard boxes beside a dumpster. "Did you hear that?" You asked.

"Uh-huh."

Another elongated meow was heard, Bucky curiously approach the discarded trash coated in sewage sludge. He slowly squatted, you approaching his shoulder when another meow cried out. Now, normally, you'd never investigate animal noises out of fear they were feral and carrying disease, but something just felt sad about what you heard - apparently, to Bucky, too. Gingerly, he reached out and lifted a piece of dripping cardboard, seeing a bundle moving under the next piece. He moved that one, too.

"Oh, my God!" You cooed when a tiny kitten was revealed. White fur was stained with dirt, sludge, and other nasty juices; nose pink, eyes a piercing, clear blue with brownish tear stains rimming them. The kitten mewed in greeting, pacing a tight circle before trying to back up in the brick wall; hunching its back and hissing slightly when you lowered yourself into a squat beside Bucky. "Baby, it's all alone, should we help?" You pouted.

"I don't think it wants our help, doll," he sighed. "It looks scared of us. Bet the mother's around somewhere, be a shame to move it if she's coming back."

"It looks too skinny, maybe it's alone?"

"Or maybe it's not," Buck countered. "C'mon, sugar, we can't take it."

After a bit of back and forth, you finally relented and had to walk away. You frowned for at least two blocks, but upon your halt at a crosswalk, you were greeted by another shrieking meow. Whipping around, you and Buck both looked down to discover the wee little kitten had followed you and was practically yelling for your attention. You grinned.

"Well, now we really have to help it," you told Bucky.

"How?"

"We take it to a shelter," you answered, shrugging, "good thing I know where one is."

"What's it doing?" Bucky asked nervously, the kitten dancing around your legs; brushing up against you both, meowing the whole time.

"I think she wants you to pick her up," you smirked.

He sighed and stooped to scoop the little creature in hand, regarding it carefully; weighing it, checking paws and other vulnerable spots. Bucky muttered, "All right, yeah, fine, let's take him to a shelter. Little beast needs some food it feels like, definitely a flea bath and some fresh water."

"You big softie."

"Lead the way to the shelter, princess, c'mon," he ignored your jab, tucking the kitten into his chest protectively. "He feels fragile," Bucky worried, "maybe you should carry him, I might crush him."

"You've got the little babe, Buck," you assured, "you're not gonna hurt him - I mean, if it's even a him."

"By the attitude, could be a girl," he joked, making your heart lighten. He'd been in such a funk that you missed his teasing, soft words; the little jokes he cracked, his smile - God, you missed seeing his smile. During your time on the run after DC, while seeking refuge in Bucharest for a couple years, you grew accustomed to seeing his radiant smile; remembering how easily he offered it when just the two of you. For a moment, you considered how your relationship was no longer just you and Bucky - but his trauma, too.

Arriving at the shelter, it was like an assault on the senses. Dogs were heard barking from the kennels, the pungent smell of urine and wood chips smacking you in the face, and a sort of humidity lingering in the air - a sharp contrast to the crisp outside.

"Hi," you greeted the receptionist, offering a kind smile.

"Hi, there. How can I help you two?" The man with long hair asked.

"Well, uh, two things," you explained, "one: we'd like to tour your kennels, we're interested in adopting a dog - "

"We are?" Bucky gaped.

" - and two: we found this little fella in an alley," you pointed to the kitten curled protectively against Bucky's warmth. "We wanted to make sure he was okay, maybe leave him here for adoption?"

"Oh," Man Bun blinked, regarding both Bucky and the kitten, "wow, uh, yeah, that's really nice of you guys, rescuing the little guy. You know, since everyone came back few months ago, there's be an influx of strays. A lot of people gave up their animals when their loved ones came back."

"Well, that's super fucked up," your eyes rolled.

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "Look, I'd love to help you guys out, so, tell you what. I can let you back in the kennels - no problem! Help match you to your new companion, but, uh... I don't think I can help you with the cat. You see, we, uh, we've had to start euthanizing the overflow animals or the ones who don't get adopted in a timeframe. We're at our max capacity, so... If you wanna leave him here, uh, I can't promise he'll have a place."

"You'd put him down?" Bucky growled.

"It's not what we want to do," Man Bun swiftly explained, "but it's just necessary - we don't have the room or resources to take him."

"Do you know of any no-kill shelters? Maybe one that has room?" You asked, feeling Bucky's disgust rolling off him in waves.

"Not in the area," Man Bun frowned. "Honestly? I think the closest no-kill shelter's in Maryland. Maybe Virginia?"

"Jesus," you frowned, looking at Bucky.

"Look, my best advice?" Man Bun offered, "Take the little tike home, clean him up, and call around to other shelters to see if they have space. But if you intend to adopt a dog, maybe bringing back a kitten isn't the best timing. If you give him up to us, he'll probably be sent directly to overflow..."

"We'll take him home," Bucky instantly decided, shocking you.

"We will?" You asked softly, lips curling in a small smile.

"Why not?" He sighed.

"I would've thought you'd be more of a dog person..."

"I'm not an animal person, but we're not leaving this little guy here just for him to be euthanized. We can handle him for a few days, you know, until we find a shelter with room."

"I think that's a great idea," you grinned.

"But was this your plan? For us to adopt a dog?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Why?"

You shrugged, "Just thought a dog would be nice company when I'm outta town for work. You know, could go on walks or runs together, you'd have someone looking out for you, maybe a dog would help with your stress levels?"

He eyed you for a moment, sighing, "I appreciate that, doll. Maybe another time, though? At least let us find somewhere or someone to take this guy."

The kitten gave a prolonged squeak - seemingly agreeing. "All right, noisy, we hear you," you chuckled, giving the kitten's head a scratch. You asked Man Bun, "Do you guys have the means to check him over, you know, before we go home? Make sure he's not injured or something?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "let me go get one of the technicians."

After the tech's exam, you were given the paperwork from that day's visit, the name, number, and address of a recommended vet, and before you knew it, found yourselves at the local pet store. You would've been ashamed by the absurd amount of money you spent, but Bucky rationalized the need because you weren't sure how long your new companion would stay with you. So, you ransacked the store, buying a sizable litter box, 50 pounds of actual litter, a bag of kibble, case of wet food, several different treats, a balm for the baby's feet, too many toys and stimulation activities, a carrying case in the event of transporting the kitten, and a tiny collar - if you decided to keep the little noise machine.

The sight of Bucky with the little fuzz ball warmed your heart. He still seemed hesitant and stiff, as if afraid to hurt the kitten, but he wasn't so tense anymore. However, he handed the pet over for you to hold while he carried the supplies back home; biceps bulging to support the weight. In that moment, walking familiar streets with his arms full of cat supplies, he questioned how he got here - to feel all domestic and out-of-place. He was Bucky Barnes - a Sargent in the Army, prolific hitman, something of an Avenger now. He didn't adopt cats and buy toys!

However, watching you talk to the kitten softly, he smiled - something small at first that grew like a germinating seed to split his face. You seemed so... Bright, excited, rejuvenated, even. He knew the past five months since the Blip had been rough on you, what with losing Natasha, fighting Thanos and his army of aliens, then ricocheting into 'normal life' only to deal with his emotional baggage. Watching you walk down the street with a fuzzy white ball of energy, pointing out different things, cooing and narrating the city to the kitten as if he could understand was refreshing after seemingly seeing nothing but a frown on your lips recently.

To Bucky, as long as you were happy, he was happy - and it seemed you were very content with your new little buddy. So, he was happy with your new little buddy and figured a dose of domestic life wasn't the end of the world. In fact, he actually felt... Intrigued by the newest addition to your little family.

When you returned home, it was to an empty apartment. Bucky dropped the supplies in the living room, hands to his hips, looking around, "Well, uh... At least there's room to run around, right?"

You nodded, "And no risk of ruined furniture."

"Yeah," he sighed, watching you set the kitten down. "All right, pip squeak. C'mon, lemme give you the tour - pay attention. So, in here," he moved around the wall, kitten following and listening intently, labeling, "this is the kitchen, this is where you'll get your meals - and no, you're not allowed on the counters." He pointed a warning finger, "Don't let me catch you up there or there's gonna be hell to pay. I don't wanna find your hair in my morning bagel."

"Buck, you don't eat breakfast."

"Fine, then I don't wanna hear my girl found hair in her bagel."

The kitten mewed loudly, trotting to keep up as Bucky walked around the barren apartment - giving a literal tour. You unpacked the supplies, setting up a raised food bowl beside a full water bowl. You left the treats in an empty cupboard, the litter box ready to use in the bathroom, and tossed some toys around the open, empty living room floor. You meandered, stashing other supplies, hearing the scampering thuds of excited little feet.

When your head popped out of the kitchen, you grinned at what you saw. Bucky was sat on the floor, flicking a feathered stick over the hardwood floors for the kitten to race around and try to catch. The longer you watched, the more defenseless Bucky seemed, and dare you say it, he looked calm - maybe even happy. His eyes were locked on the animal's antics as if he didn't want to miss a single movement he made; small smile making him look younger and brighter.

You made a mental note to thank Nick Fury for his suggestion. Sure, he actually said to get a dog, but this kitten seemed to have the same effect.

"Hey, baby?" You called, hanging up your phone after calling the recommended vet. "So, uh... Listen, you know how I have to go outta town on Friday?"

"Yeah?" He glanced up, letting the kitten wrestle his booted foot.

"So, I managed to get a vet appointment but it's for Friday. Is that okay? Or do you want me to reschedule for when I'm back so we can go together?"

"Oh, uh, no, that's all right, sugar, keep the Friday slot. I can take him, it's not a big deal."

"You sure? I hate having to saddle you with this responsibility."

"I'm sure," he nodded, "I can take him, it's okay."

For the rest of the week, you had a front row viewing of an incredible bond being formed. The kitten liked you, you two had many moments together, but it was obvious the little guy adored Bucky. He was stuck to your boyfriend like Velcro, following him everywhere, shrieking for attention when Bucky was preoccupied, liked being held when he cooked, even tried to get in the shower with Bucky. They played together, Bucky's laugh warming the entire apartment; positively obsessed with one another, the little guy even sleeping between you and Bucky.

It was as if you both forgot to look for the kitten a permanent home, the lack of furniture providing wide space for play and entertainment. Bucky even got one of those cat trees, couple individual scratching posts, and a laser pointer that drove your furry friend up the wall. There was some unspoken rule about naming animals - where if you named them, they were yours officially. So, one evening over dinner, you proposed a few names, Bucky giving his opinion; but then you began to consider "theme" names. Because your little buddy was white, you mused over names like Noelle or Snow, but finally settled on Alpine after narrowly beating out Aspen.

The day you flew to London, you warned both Bucky and kitten to behave themselves. Later that night, while you were sat in a tinted SUV for surveillance, your phone rang with Bucky's contact. "Hey, baby, how's it going?" You answered, refocusing through your advanced camera lens to snap necessary photos.

"Good, yeah. Uh, how's London?"

"Pretty dreary, it's been raining all day. Hey, how was the vet appointment?"

'Oh, yeah, no, it was, uh, yeah, it was good. Gave Alpine a buncha shots, microchipped her, started her on antibiotics - "

"Did you say, 'her'?"

"Yeah, that was the other thing - turns out, Alpine's a girl."

You chuckled, "Well, I'll be damned. How're you feelin', Buck?"

"I'm... Okay."

"I'm sorry I'm not there," you sighed. "Nightmares again?"

"Yeah."

"Sleeping in the living room?"

"You know it."

"TV on?"

"Reminds me I'm not where I dreamt I am."

"Well, I'll be home in a few days."

"What's this mission?"

"Just a little recon, I'm only to observe. Nicky told me to keep an eye on some suspicious activity."

"Don't tell me you're sitting in a white van?"

"No, sir, it's a Rolls Royce this time," you chuckled.

True to your word, you were home by Tuesday night. The transatlantic flight was long and tedious; a storm creating steady turbulence, making it absolutely impossible to get any shut eye. When you landed, you made a beeline to the Starbucks and got the largest coffee possible with an added 2 shots of espresso before exiting the bustling airport. Outside, waiting at the curb, Nick Fury himself stood before a sleek and shiny car that probably cost more than a 4-year education at an American university.

He smirked, "Welcome back, kid."

"Nice of you to pick me up, Nicky-Nick."

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call me 'kid'."

"Get in the Goddamn car, I'm not having this argument again."

After storing your luggage, Nick drove you back home while listening to your mission report. You didn't think the Flagsmashers were extreme enough to warrant intervention, but all Nick heard was that now was the time to strike before there came the need, before a chance for escalation could occur. You left the tablet full of notes, observations, photos, and data with the one-eyed man, and before you fully departed the car, paused to lean in the open window.

"Hey, uh, I've been meaning to thank you."

"What for?" Nick asked, face hardened in a permanent look of disagreement. You never took it personally - Nick Fury having professional Resting Bitch Face (RBF).

"Your advice about getting Bucky a dog."

"No shit," he chuckled, "you actually got him a dog?"

"Uh, well, no..."

"What'd you get?" Nick asked in suspicion, watching your lips roll between your teeth to restrain your smile. "Ah, hell no! You didn't! A cat? A fucking cat?"

"I know you don't like them - "

"Bitch! One scratched out my eye!"

"But our cat didn't."

"Doesn't matter - fuck all them felines."

You laughed and slapped the metal door, "Well, thank you anyway for the idea of a companion animal. Bucky's a lot calmer it seems."

Nick Fury sighed, waving you off like a pesky insect. "I'll call you when I got another job. Have fun with the little demon."

"You talkin' about Bucky or Alpine?"

"The cat - wait, Alpine? The fuck kinda name is that?"

"You know, Alpine... Like the Alps?"

His head shook, "I know what fuckin' alpine is."

"Why don't you head off - looks like you're gonna give yourself a stroke. Didn't realize getting a kitten would stress you out this bad."

"Get out my Goddamn window and I can leave."

You grinned and dropped a wink, again, patting the car and stepping back onto the sidewalk. Nick peeled off, leaving you alone to shoulder your duffel bag and head inside your apartment building. When you got to your desired location, the door opened without the usual creak, Bucky obviously WD-40'ing the hinges. "Hello?" You called softly, hanging your keys on the little peg in the foyer, toeing out of your shoes, glancing around the empty apartment.

Ready to call out again, you actually almost choked on air when you inhaled but stopped abruptly. You pouted your bottom lip at the sight of Bucky sound asleep in his nest on the floor, TV's lighting flashing and creating shadows, giving clear sight of Alpine curled in a tight ball on Buck's chest. His flesh hand was raised to rest on his chest, keeping Alpine cuddled to his warmth.

Quickly, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, snapping an adorable picture of your boyfriend before silently tiptoeing away to dispose of your duffel and purse. You sent the photo to Bucky's phone, positive you were keeping the kitten. After a long, hot shower that washed the travel from your body, you changed into loungewear, pulled your hair back, then reentered the living room where you knelt at Bucky's side. In-sync, your presence made both Alpine and Bucky flinch awake - your boyfriend jerking away from your warmth as the kitten hopped off his chest.

You winced, "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't mean to wake you."

His head shook, "No, it's all right, doll, I wasn't sleeping."

"You were, don't deny it," you grinned, settling on the mound of blankets.

Bucky chuckled gently, "I tried to stay up for you. C'mere," his arm opened in invitation, smirking gently. You settled down and turned into his side, his arm now coiled around your form, constricting to pull you closer so his lips could plant on your forehead. "How was London? Your mission?"

"Easy peasy," you sighed, "nothing too strenuous or stressful. The most 'complicated' part of the whole thing was using a different car each day to avoid suspicion."

"Hmm... Who was the target?"

"Some radical group," you sighed, head resting on his pectoral. "How was it? Just you and Alpine?"

"It was pretty good, nothing to complain about. She's nice company."

As if understanding she was the topic of conversation, Alpine mewed several times in a row as she walked up the seam of your body pressed to Bucky's. She turned in two circles before settling down between you; your grin authentic as a manicured fingernail extended to scratch her head.

"Actually, sweetheart, I've been thinking..."

"Hmm? About what?" You mumbled, eyes drooping with each passing second.

"About how we should keep her - Alpine, we should keep Alpine."

"You're just figuring that out now?" You teased, sluggishly lifting your head to smirk at him. "I knew she was ours the moment you picked her up. It'll be nice having her around, don't you think? I know she's not a dog you can take on walks but with Alpine, you don't have to be alone."

He nodded, "I like that idea. She's a good cat."

"Check your phone in the morning."

"Why?"

"Mmmh, I sent you a picture, you'll see - but it's just confirmation that Alpines part of us now, part of our crew."

"Our family," Bucky agreed softly. He watched you resettle on his chest, spending the following couple hours in the glow of the TV, watching you and Alpine. Bucky's heart warmed to a degree he's never known, making the comparison of himself to Jim Carrey's, the Grinch - a movie you made him watch. Eventually, exhaustion outweighed his domestic thoughts; falling asleep with you safe in his arms and Alpine curled up between you.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise... I was beginning to think James made you up."

"Oh, please, nobody could make me up - I'm too complex, nobody's got that kinda imagination," you smirked, legs crossed, seated beside Bucky on a sofa; both facing his therapist.

"I'm glad you could finally join us - I've been asking James to bring you for a while now," Dr. Raynor's eyes darted between you and Bucky, making you feel as if she was seeing right into your soul. However, her tone was accusatory, as if scolding Bucky.

So, you swiftly defended, "Well, I'm happy to be here. Bucky's one of my top priorities, I'd do anything for him - including attending any of these silly mandated sessions. Which are bullshit, by the way, because he's not the Winter Soldier anymore so why is Bucky being crucified? Why is this being pinned on him when he technically didn't do anything? The Winter Soldier did."

"Well, healing often takes time and dedication, and must be done in a series of steps. That's how you see real progress. These sessions are a condition of his pardon - "

"I can't believe your government would even enforce these silly little rules considering Bucky's assistance. He fought against Thanos, he fought on our side, and by all means, helped restore what was lost. I just find it pretty dehumanizing to force him to jump through hoops. I mean, for Christ's sake, half the universe was snapped away, you'd think after that, there wouldn't be need for pardons or contingencies - or for holding onto grudges."

"This is simply how we keep order in a post-Blip society. Everything changed in those five years, it's necessary to keep balance amongst all worldly citizens."

You scoffed lightly, "Ever consider these sessions might be doing more harm than good?"

Raynor frowned, "Despite the Winter Soldier being decommissioned, James still has trauma to process and skeletons to clear out of the closet. Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, but the man remains - and James needs to focus on healing that part of himself. Whatever he did as the Winter Soldier wasn't Bucky's doing, but he still remembers all he did, which creates a heavy toll on the mind. That's part of the reason these sessions are mandated - because the assassin might be gone, but the residual effects still linger."

You hummed, "Well, let's get into it, Doc."

"You know... I've heard a lot about you. James paints you in a very bright light, says your bark and bite are equally as vicious."

"Hm," you nodded, brows perked, "yet I don't know shit about you."

"Perfectly natural. Typically, most people don't gossip about their therapists. It's nice that you could join us for this session."

"Nice to be invited."

She clicked her pen and settled her pad securely on her lap, just staring at you and Bucky for a long moment. You were ready to snap at her when she opened her mouth, "So, I hear you adopted a cat?"

"We did," you confirmed.

"Alpine," Bucky supplied, body rigid with tension and nerves.

"Right... Alpine," Raynor nodded, leaning her elbow to an arm of her padded chair. "How did this cat come into your possession?"

"We rescued her from a dumpster," Bucky answered stiffly.

"Really?" Raynor perked both brows.

"She was under some pieces of cardboard, screamin' her li'l head off," You chuckled. "Though, I think it's safe to say she chose us, adopted us as caregivers."

"How's that?"

"She wouldn't let us pick her up and we were afraid to take her in case her mama was lingering around. Turns out, she followed us. We were at a crosswalk when she caught up, demanding we pick her up and take her home."

"Is that so?"

"I'd like to think so," you nodded. "We were already on our way to the shelter, so, we took her with us, got her checked out."

"Why were you heading to the shelter to begin with?"

"Oh, uh, to adopt a dog. I had a colleague recommend an emotional support animal - or a companionship animal - to help Bucky feel less alone."

Raynor made a note of something. "You work often?" She asked.

"Often enough that I feel guilty for leaving. Figured getting a dog would instill a sense of dependence, you know, help Bucky feel like there was someone depending on him. Help usher in comfort and stability, help keep him calm, focused, distracted. But Alpine does the same thing - no dog necessary, apparently."

Raynor nodded, her wrinkles dimpling as she frowned and wrote down another note. When her eyes lifted, so did her lips; a smirk on display as she praised, "I actually think that's a wonderful idea. You know, there's been a lot of research about soldiers with PTSD benefitting from an emotional support animal. You're right, they promote peace, stability, distraction - gives patrons a tangible purpose, taking care of another life not their own."

"For sure, again, anything to help," you agreed, holding Bucky's gloved hand he kept covered by leather - only worn in public.

"Although, I wonder, why get a pet? I ask because James speaks highly of you, credits you for keeping him stable and on-track. Do you feel as if she's not enough, James? Is that why you kept Alpine?"

"No," he answered instantly, "she's my best girl and will always be enough. Watch your mouth, Doc."

"But sometimes extra help is nice," you tacked on, tightening your hand in Bucky's. "But for what it's worth, Dr. Raynor, Bucky keeps me sane. I keep him balanced. We keep each other safe. Alpine's just an added bonus, a quiet menace to help quell the business of our brains."

Raynor smirked, "I must say, you surprise me, Miss."

"I'm no stranger to mental health. But as I said before, I just want to help." You looked up at Bucky, finsihing softly, "He deserves peace in this lifetime - and if a little ball of fur can help, sign me up..."

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

188 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

Text

Blind Offer 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that's too good to be true. (short!plus!reader)

Character: Steve Rogers, additional characters to come

Note: Loooooook. I was gonna restrain myself but this all just got outta hand. This is one of my Corrupt-A-Wish requests but I won't reveal which one right away because it'll be part of the plot!

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

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖

You keep your slippers just away from the edge of the puddle. The sheet of water extends almost completely across the kitchen. You hug yourself, still slightly groggy from your early and rude awakening. The washing you put in last night hadn’t finished and instead the sudsy mess had leaked out around the door.

There’s a sigh and a clank as your landlord pulls his arm out of the machine. Your sopping laundry is in a bucket by his feet. His shirt is visibly wet from his struggle to stem the steady flow dripping from the brim of the washer door. You worry you may have overloaded the compact stacking unit.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you say as you sway guiltily.

“Don’t be,” he puts his hands on his hips and blows out. A golden strand dangles down his forehead, “it’s not you. My own fault. I thought these things might hold out for a while…”

“Oh?”

“Not the first time I’ve had to fight the beast but it worked. I should be sorry, I should’ve just replaced it.”

“Well, uh, what are you gonna do now?” You look at the wet tile, the scent of laundry detergent thick in the air as the water creeps closer to your slippers.

“Uh, yeah, well, obviously you can’t stay here.”

“I can’t?” You raise your head, running your hand up the front of your robe and clutching the fluffy fabric.

“No, bylaws say you need to evacuate until I can get a new unit in here. And clean up. Leak like this can leave mildew and mold,” he combs his large hand over his head, “I feel bad enough, I couldn’t let you live in this.”

“Okay… um, I have to work in a couple hours–”

“Oh, geez. Well, er, maybe just pack up a few things and I can take you over to the new place? You can always come back to grab more if you need.”

“I guess…” you chew your lip. His blue eyes fixate on the gesture so you stop. “How far is it?”

“Not very, about twenty minutes east by car.”

“East?” You utter dully, “that’s a bit far. I work up near the metro area.”

“There’s some bus stops that way but I could give you a lift tod–” There’s a sudden gush and he looks back to the machine, a bubble of water flowing up over the brim. He shuts the door, stemming much of it. “You won’t even be able to cook in here,” he says, “look, bylaws say I have to relocate you. I have a property free which means I don’t have to splurge for a hotel. If you prefer somewhere closer, then it’s on you.”

You frown. He’s not the worst landlord you’ve had but he definitely talks like one. He’s only really worried about his liability. Yet, most others wouldn’t have even brought up that clause and left you to wallow in this puddle of dirty laundry water. You shrug, hopefully the other place isn’t too bad.

“Right, uh, I guess I’ll go get dressed,” you relent.

“Great,” he says with blatant exasperation, turning back to face the trembling washer, his voice deflating to a hoarse rasp, “goddamn.”

You hesitate as you stare at his back. The gray fabric of his jersey henley strains across his shoulder blades as the back of his forearms clench, veins pulsing out. He rolls his head on his neck and heaves out again.

You turn on your foot and slowly pad out of the kitchen. You hear his sole squeak subtly but refuse to glance back again. You can’t help but feel that it’s all your fault. You’re sure he’s too nice to say so. Or too distracted by the chaos you’ve caused.

🖤

The new apartment isn’t an apartment at all. It’s a walkup townhouse with a sleek black and white exterior. The neighbourhood is far out of your range but you won’t complain. You suspect Steve is already aware of the deferential.

“Wow, this place is really nice,” you say as he holds the door for you. You step inside and take in the space; a narrow staircase to the next floor, black frames around grayscale photography, and minimalist decor in the form of a standing geometric floor vase and a coat rack with bent arms.

You stop to take your shoes off on the mat as Steve squeezes in behind you and shuts the door. You trip away from him, surprised by the friction of his body against yours. You’ve always been overly aware of yourself and how much room you take up. Your size makes it hard to not feel crowded, still the close brush rattles you.

He swirls the keys around a finger and stills them in his fist. He looks around emphatically and waves a hand.

“Well, this is it. It’s my only vacant property at the moment, so, it’ll have to do. Fully furnished, at least.”

“It’s great,” you assure him as you step further in, your duffel hanging heavy from one arm, “wow, it’s…”

“A lot bigger than your place. Yeah. New development. Invested at ground floor. You’ll be the first tenant, at least for the time being.”

“Ah, right,” you go to the narrow bench of black acrylic and place your bag atop it. “I’ll try not to mess it up.”

“Didn’t mean it like that.”

“Uh, yeah, but obviously it’s above my paygrade,” you scoff, “I appreciate it and sorry again.”

“Don’t worry about it. Really. Dropping a couple hundred on a new washer woulda saved us both trouble. I only got one person to blame,” he holds out his hand, “you don’t need a tour, do ya?” He offers the keys and you step up to take them, “I’ll be back around noon to get you to work but I got running around to do.”

“Um, I should be able to figure it out–”

“Oh, wait,” he puts a finger up, “the door code. Just in case. Also, you’ll wanna override the security system when you get in.” He turns and points to the sleek black box mounted beside the door, “I got it on my phone but you’ll just need to pop it open and put in the number.” He slides out his phone, “I’ll just text it before I forget.”

“Right,” you nod as you clutch the keys tight, “got it. I think I can manage.”

“Anyway, you got my number, you need anything, you know how to reach me,” he checks his watch, “noon,” he repeats as he points at you, “I’ll be back.”

He spins and opens the door, swiftly stepping through before swinging it shut behind him. You’re left slightly stunned and don’t move right away. You cross the floor and twist the latch of the door, a cautious habit likely unnecessary in this neighbourhood.

You turn back to your new abode and let your eyes rove. Wow. All this just for you. You wonder how much one of these places go for. Your monthly pay probably wouldn’t even cover a single week.

You shuffle forward, uncertain, expecting for Steve to come back through and tell you it’s all a mistake.

You peer around at the immaculate decor. Each piece is perfectly set and carefully curated. The long leather sectional and the matching square backed armchairs before the artificial fireplace in the wall. A low coffee table on a rug patterned in black and white, a touch of red in the throw pillows and the curtains.

Then the kitchen, white, pure marble, and pale silver appliances. The tile is marked by subtle dove grey diamonds, and a table sits against the wall with two chairs. You go back into the hallway and down towards the front of the stairs. You peek up at the top as you pass the small half-bath embedded on the other side.

Upstairs, you find two bedrooms, a full bath, and what appears to be a study, along with several spacious closets. It’s truly a dream. Who knew a broken washer could get you a stay in heaven.

Well, you should get settled in. Enjoy it while it lasts.

🖤

As promised, Steve shows up just before noon. You have your uniform on but feel less than ready to go. The abrupt awakening, the displacement, and the typical dread of the overcrowded box store. Your job is less than glamorous and the townhouse underlines that even more as you bid it a reluctant goodbye.

Steve’s car is sleek and red and overpriced. You don’t know much about cars but you can just tell. The interior is squeaky and so clean you’re sure it must be right off the lot. That new car smell fills your nose and threatens to inspire a migraine.

You put your purse in your lap and buckle up as he turns down the volume on the stereo. You recognise the song, surprised by his taste. He didn’t seem the angsty type. As far from grungy as you can imagine.

“Smashing Pumpkins?” You comment.

“You don’t like them?”

“Don’t mind em,” you shrug, “just figured you were more into… I don’t know, just not them.”

“When I’m not unclogging toilets or changing smoke alarms, I actually do have fun,” he scoffs.

“Oh, I didn’t mean–”

“Kidding,” he assures you as he pulls away from the curb.

You watch the townhouses pass by as he slowly rolls down the street. It’s eerie. There are no other cars lined up in the spots parallel to the pavement. In fact, you don’t see anyone else around. Not through windows, not coming or going, no one so much as walking down the cul-de-sac. It is oddly isolated from the suburbs all around.

“Not like I have great music taste, I’m a disco junkie,” you try to laugh off the tension.

“Fun,” he muses dully.

You don’t respond. You’re on your phone checking Uber prices for the way back. Eek. You pull up the bus routes for the area; at least two transfers to get there. Shit.

“So…” Steve begins, “who you chatting with? Telling them about your tight-ass landlord or what?”

“Uh, no,” you put your phone down and black the screen, “I was just… tryna figure out how I’m getting home. Sorry. Did you say something?”

“Nothing important,” he assures, “what time are you done?”

“Nine, closing,” you explain, “it’s fine, there’s buses. I’ll just have to remember not to go to my usual stop.”

“I can come get you,” he offers.

“That’s… that’s fine. You don’t have to. You’ve already done enough–”

“Really, I don’t have much else going on. Besides the washer but my buddy’s taking care of that for me. I’ll be available.”

“If you don’t mind, but really, I’m gonna have to learn the route. Actually, when do you think I’ll be back at my apartment?”

“Couple of days at best. After we left, the water got into the motor of the dryer– to spare you the whole spiel, the dryer needs to be replaced too. And the floor might need to come up, water’s done a number on the laminate–”

“Oh,” you grimace, “I… that sounds bad.”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed. Look, I know it’s probably not ideal for you to be all the way out here. I’ll keep you updated,” he speaks with one hand as his other remains on the wheel.

“Oh, no, I appreciate all your help. It’s just…” you cross your ankles and nervously wiggle your foot, “I’m just anxious.”

He hums and a thoughtful silence rises between you. He turns a corner and clears his throat, “about the apartment or work?”

“What?”

“What are you anxious about?” He asks.

“Oh, uh, yeah, uh, work, sure. Work always makes me anxious. Lots of angry customers and we’re headed into that season, you know?”

“Makes sense,” he nods, moving his hand low on the wheel as he sits back and steers lazily with the clogged flow of the city traffic.

“And the apartment,” you admit, “I’m not the best with change.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he agrees, “I’m a bit of stickler. I like order, you know? Everything has its place. Everyone has their role.”

You mull his words. It’s a strange way of putting it but you get it. You find your life erratic this time of year, when your schedule goes from predictable to hectic and fluid. Everyone wants to switch shifts and all the managers are trying to fill the schedule with as few bodies as possible.

“I mean…” he breaks the lull, “you know, I keep a pretty strict schedule with myself. Try to. You never know when you’ll get a call at 5am.”

You suck in air and look at him from the corner of your eye. His allusion isn’t subtle. The pit sinks further in your stomach. You don’t need one more person disappointed in you, not when you’re about to face Gwen the manager and her omnipotent clipboard.

“Yeah, uh,” you bend your arm and rub your neck, “sorry…”

“You apologise a lot,” he interrupts, “I’m not mad.”

“I know, I just feel bad,” you move your thumb to chew it.

He glances over at you before quickly refocusing on the road. He laughs, a hollow, gristly chuckle, “trust me, if I was mad, you would know.”

You blink. What? You’re not sure what he means. Is he joking? Maybe it’s that he’s such a nice guy that the change would be unmistakable or maybe he’s being sarcastic and you’re too stupid to pick up on it. Either way, you just want this car ride to be over.

“Right,” you eke out, “I’ll, erm, be sure to stay on your good side then.”

He slides his hand around the wheel to the top, squeezing until the leather squeaks. He shifts in his seat and exhales, “girl like you, I can’t imagine you being too much of a handful.”

His remark sticks in your ears. Again, you’re confounded by him. You can't read his tone as it's quickly washed away by the sudden blare of music as he cranks up the volume.

“This is a good one,” he calls over the music, “I’m sure you know it.”

Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage Someone will say, "What is lost can never be saved" Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage

Now I'm naked Nothing but an animal But can you fake it For just one more show?

The creaky tones of Billy Corgan’s lilt surrounds you as Steve bobs his head. The swirl of noise and the shadow of tension mingle and suffocate you. You’re starting to look forward to work.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #corrupt-a-wish #au #multifandom #captain america #avengers #marvel #mcu #more characters to be added #blind offer

466 notes · View notes

vbecker10 · 2 years

Note

Hi I was jw if you could do a Loki x reader where they have a huge fight and then reader leaves for a mission to only come back injured. Loki is given a note from her apologizing to him and when she wakes up he takes care of her apologizing as well? Super duper fluffy ending?

Hey anon!! I have two asks that have very similar ideas so I'm doing them together. I'm sorry if it took me so long to get to it that you sent it again but I really do love this idea. I changed a little bit of it and kinda combined both asks. Hopefully it was worth the wait 💚

That's Not What I Meant

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Warnings: arguing, angst, injury, lots of fluff

Summary: You and Loki have an argument but before the two of you can resolve it, you are called away on a mission for a few days. You return from the mission injured and still hurt by what Loki said before you left but he is determined to show you how much you truly mean to him.

A/N: I threw in Halloween stuff cause it's October so why not right 🎃 lol... also, as usual this got away from me and is way longer then I intended 🤷‍♀️

"Its October first!" you say as you flip the calendar on your kitchen wall excitedly. "Do you know what that means?" you turn towards Loki.

He looks up from the coffee maker, "I would say its Saturday but I imagine that's not the answer you are looking for."

"Its Halloween!" you answer with a wide smile. He rolls his eyes but you catch a glimpse of him smiling before he turns back to face the counter. You move to stand behind him and put your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his back.

He shakes his head and chuckles softly while he pours the fresh coffee into two mugs. "I was under the impression that Halloween was on the last day of the month, not the first," he says.

You groan, letting go of him so you can lean your back against the counter next to him. You look up at him, crossing your arms and say, "Technically yes but... we can do Halloween stuff all month."

He takes a sip of his coffee, "A whole month seems a bit unnecessary. Surely one day is enough."

"It absolutely is necessary!" you tell him, a bit louder than you expected to.

He raises an eyebrow then waves his hand for you to continue. "Very well. What did you have in mind, darling?" he asks.

"Everything... Some of the parks here do hayrides, corn mazes and apple picking. I've always wanted to go apple picking, maybe Wanda could teach me how she makes those mini apple crumbles," you say and Loki smiles, you know how much he loves any type of dessert he can get his hands on. "There are tons of haunted houses we can visit of course," you add.

"Of course," he nods dramatically in agreement which causes you to laugh.

"Oh and I feel like you would like pumpkin carving," you say and he tilts his head curiously. "Because you know..." you make a stabbing motion, "Knives and such."

"That seems acceptable," he laughs then leans forward to kiss you briefly. "Anything else, love?"

"Can't forget watching horror movies with lots of junk food and cuddles or scaring everyone on the team," you tell him.

"How could I say no to either of those?" he smiles as he puts his coffee mug on the counter and moves closer to you. He slips one arm around you and you lean against his chest, looking up at him. "It'll be hard to pick a favorite activity but I don't think you can beat scaring the others," he says with a mischievous grin.

You hit his chest lightly, "Want to try picking a favorite again?"

He kisses the top of your head, "Pumpkin carving?"

"You're the worst," you giggle as you pull free. "The correct answer is horror movies and cuddles, obviously. Just for that, I'm picking out our costumes for Stark's party."

His mood shifts suddenly as the playful smile leaves his lips. He picks up his coffee mug and takes another sip. "There's no need for you to do that," he says in a serious tone, "I won't be attending the party." With that, he turns and walks out of the kitchen.

"You don't want to go?" you ask as you follow him into the living room.

He sits on one end of the couch and sets his mug on the coffee table. "Y/N, you know I don't go to Stark's parties. I never have and I see no reason to start now," he says without looking at you.

"I thought we could go together," you say with a hopeful smile.

He picks up his book from the side table and open its, "Why would you think that?"

"Because it would be fun?" you ask, feeling more unsure of yourself with every passing moment.

He looks up at you briefly and then back to his book. "I doubt very much it would be," he says.

You stand across from him in silence, hurt by the thought that Loki didn't even want to consider going with you. Loki has never been one to socialize with the team voluntarily but you had been excited about the idea of finally having a date to one of Stark's parties.

"I know we've only been dating a few months but... I guess I just assumed you would want to go with me," you say quietly.

"Don't Midgardians have a saying about assuming things?" he asks as he turns the page of his book.

"Well, yea..." you put your mug on the coffee table. "Can you not read while we're talking?"

"You know I'm perfectly capable of holding a conversation and reading at the same time," he says without looking up, you wrap your arms around yourself and don't respond. He finally looks up and slides his bookmark between the pages before setting it on the table. "Better?" he asks in a sarcastic tone.

"Oh, is it rude of me to want you to pay attention to me when I'm talking?" you ask, unable to hide your growing annoyance.

"There is nothing to talk about. I have told you I'm not going," he says. "You're more then welcome to go to that ridiculous event alone." He sits back and opens his book again.

"Its not ridiculous," you argue back but he doesn't acknowledge you as he turns the page.

"And I don't... I don't want to go alone. I want to go with my boyfriend. What's wrong with that?" you ask.

"Are you really going to just ignore me now?" you ask when he continues to read silently.

"I'm not ignoring you, I'm just done with this conversation," he says as he flips the page.

"That's not how conversations work-" you say, rolling your eye sarcastically.

"I don't want to be with you Y/N," Loki says in a harsh tone as he slams the book closed.

You instantly take a step back as his words hit you. He stands up quickly, dropping his book as moves towards you. "Go, I meant I don't want to go with you," he tries to correct himself but your mind has already latched onto those words.

"You... don't..." you whisper as you stand in front of him in disbelief, shaking your head slowly.

"No, no. That's not what I meant," he repeats. "Y/N, I didn't mean that."

He reaches for your arm and you pull away from him. "But you said it," you say, you feel as if you're heart is physically breaking. "Why would you say that?" you ask, close to tears.

"Y/N, I-" Loki starts to explain but is cut off by the sound of your phone ringing from the other room.

You turn from him and walk back to the kitchen to answer it. Loki follows you and tries to take your hand but you turn from him. You purposefully stare at your feet while on the phone to avoid looking at Loki who is growing increasingly upset and nervous.

When you hang up from your call with Agent Hill you ask, "Can you please leave? I have to be ready to take off for a mission in twenty minutes and I-"

"Y/N, I'm not leaving until we talk," he shakes his head. He attempts to close the distance between the two of you again and this time you don't move away. You keep your eyes fixed on the ground as tears begin to surface. He touches your cheek lightly but you still don't look up.

"That's not what I meant," he says again and you nod slowly, your heart believes him but your mind won't let go of this words so easily. "Please look at me," he pleads but you can’t.

"I have to get ready," you tell him again in a hushed voice.

"Can we talk when you get back?" he asks and you mumble ok in response. He kisses the top of your head lightly and says, "Be safe, Y/N."

(Three days later)

You limp slowly down the long corridor and find yourself standing in front of Loki's door. You can tell he's awake, most likely reading, when you see the light creeping out from under the door even though it's just past one in the morning.

You stand there frozen for a moment. All you want to do is feel his arms wrap around you but every time you picture him, you hear his voice echo. He said he didn't want to be with you and although he quickly took it back you just couldn't shake it. His words had burned themselves into your thoughts and refused to leave.

You try to take a deep breath and feel a searing pain spread through your left side. You look down at the brace on your left knee and rub your left arm, just above where the cast was set. Shaking your head, you turn to drag yourself the rest of the way down the hall to your room to sleep.

You get a few feet away when you hear Loki's door open and you stop but don't turn. "Y/N, welcome back," he says quietly.

You can feel your heartbeat picking up at the sound of his voice and you can't help but smile a bit. "I've missed you, love," he says, you can hear he's stepped out into the hall.

"I missed you too," you tell him as you turn to face him. You watch as his eyes move up and down your body, filling with concern.

"Y/N, are you alright? What happened?" he asks, standing close to you. You shrug and tell him that the mission was ultimately successful but you were thrown during an explosion at the Hydra base. You had broken your arm and sprained your knee, in addition to being covered in bruises. You tell him you're exhausted and just want to lay down.

He reaches out and takes your hand, "I know you're tired darling, but come with me." You look up at him quietly, he gently strokes your cheek. "Let me take care of you," he says in a soothing voice.

You smile sleepily and nod, absolutely nothing could sound better then letting Loki look after you right now. No matter what he said before you left, you were still completely in love with him, although you had never been brave enough to say it. You squeeze his hand lightly and he leads you back to his room.

Once inside, he closes the door quietly and picks you up careful not to hurt your side or leg. You let out a small laugh in surprise as he carries you bridal style into the living room. "I can walk," you tell him but you make no attempt to be put down.

"Not without being in pain it seems," he answers in a caring tone.

You wrap your good arm around his neck a bit tighter and kiss his cheek lightly without thinking. He smiles when he looks down at you but you can see it doesn't quite reach his eyes. His eyes are red and glassy, his normally silky smooth hair appears slightly tangled and you've never seen his clothing wrinkled before.

You look around as he carries you through his apartment. His space is usually meticulously neat but there are books messily piled on the end table and floor. You notice a pillow and blanket from his bed have been moved to the couch and there are several empty mugs on the coffee table. He walks through the living room and into his bedroom where the bed you've shared is made perfectly, expect for the missing pillow. You realize its the pillow from your side of the bed that's been moved to the couch.

As if he is reading your thoughts he says, "I haven't been able to sleep without you."

You close your eyes, hold him tighter and whisper, "I'm sorry, Loki." You knew how hard the last few days had been for you but you are quickly seeing how badly it had affected Loki as well.

He kisses your forehead as he gently opens the bathroom door with his foot. He sets you down on the countertop next to the sink.

"I understand you're tired but... I just need you to know I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean what I said before you left, you know that right? I was frustrated about the party and it just came out wrong. I-" he tells you and you pull him closer to you. You put your good arm around his waist and move your legs to be on either side of him as they dangle over the edge.

You had spent the last three days replaying what Loki said and you can tell he had been too. "I know Loki," you interrupt him. "I know you didn't mean it," you tell him and he breaths a sigh of relief. He strokes your cheek lightly then leans down to kiss you.

When he breaks the kiss, you hide your face against his chest. "Y/N...?" he asks, running his hand up and down your back lightly.

"I'm sorry I pushed you about going to the party. I know you don't enjoy going to them and it wasn't fair that I got upset instead of listening to you," you tell him.

He puts his fingers under your chin and tilts your head so you are looking up at him again. "I will go to the party, I just want to make you happy Y/N," he offers but you shake your head no and he looks confused.

"I don't want to go anymore," you tell him.

"You should go. I know how much fun you thought his last party was," he says.

You smile at him and run your fingers through his hair gently, "I would rather spend time with you, doing something we both like."

He cups your cheek and brings your lips to his. You kiss him back as his hand slides down your back, holding you close to his chest. You giggle when you pull away to breath, "I meant something like going to a museum... but that works too."

He laughs at your response than says, "Well we still have all the things on your Halloween list to get through."

You nod happily as you yawn then groan in pain when your stretching aggravates your sore muscles. His smile fades and he looks concerned again.

"Let's get you more comfortable, darling," he says and you agree.

You rest against Loki with your eyes closed as you listen to the tub full with water. After a few minutes, Loki carefully helps you out of your dirty, bloodied uniform and places you into the warm water. You let out a sigh as your muscles begin to relax from the oils Loki had added. Resting your broken arm on the edge of the tub, you let yourself sink completely under the bubbles.

Loki's kneels behind you and begins to gently unbraid your hair. He runs his long fingers through your hair and then down your neck to your shoulders, massaging all the tension from your muscles. When he finishes, he kisses you softly. "Just rest now, I'll be back in a moment," he says as he gets up.

You nod with a smile, struggling to keep your eyes open. Just as you are about to drift off completely, Loki returns to being you to bed. After drying off, Loki conjures you a soft pair of green shorts and a black tank top to sleep in.

You giggle, half asleep when he picks you up again and carries you into the bedroom. He lays you on the bed and then gets in next to you. At soon as he pulls the covers over the two of you, you curl up against his side.

Loki wraps his arms tightly around you and whispers, "I love you, Y/N."

For a moment, you aren't sure if you dreamed hearing this words or if he actually said he loved you for the first time. You look up at him and when you see his smile, you know you weren't dreaming.

"I love you too, Loki," you confess happily, right before you slip into a sound sleep.

@michelleleewise @ace-of-gay @high-functioning-lokipath @poetic-fiasco @soubi001 @lokisninerealms @lulubelle814 @lovingchoices14 @justasecretwriter @theaudacitytowrite @klaushargreeves420 @coffeeorsomething-irl @lokisgoodgirl @xorpsbane @avoliax @talesofadragon @lokiandbuckysdoll @animnerd @juulle987 @lokiprompts21 @javagirl328 @kats72 @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @mochie85 @princess-asgard @holdmytesseract @lokixryss @peaches1958 @lokidbadguy @highkeysimpingforloki

Let me know if you want to be taken off or added to this list! 💚

2K notes · View notes

heavyhitterheaux · 2 months

Text

Got Me Thinking

Part 5: From Paris With Love (Slight NSFW)

Synopsis: After spending time with Jack, the two of you end up in an argument, which leads to you not wanting to speak to him. He then surprises you with a trip to Paris, but is the love that you have for one another enough to survive the whirlwind of events that come after?

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Series Masterlist 💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

The conversation with Neelam that you had earlier was distracting you from focusing on you actually being able to spend time with Jack since the two of you would have to go weeks at a time without seeing one another.

Those facetime calls didn't cut it all the time.

Waiting until the crowd died down after the show, Jack volunteered to walk you out to your car but made sure to wear a hoodie in order to cover his curly hair in the hopes that no one would notice him. Jack knew that you could read him like a book, but reading you was a completely different ballgame and at times could be difficult for him. He could tell that something was on your mind and quickly got to the point to ask you about it.

“What's on your mind Buttercup?” He asked while starting to play with the ends of your hair.

“Hmm just thinking how much I'm going to miss you after I leave and how bad I want to kiss you, but we’re out in the open and there's too many eyes.”

All Jack did was look at you because he knew you were lying through your teeth.

“Hmm, that's definitely a lie. That might be partially true, but there's something else more to it. I'll let it slide for now, but don't think I'm going to forget.”

When you were silent, he quickly spoke again.

“I want you to stay with me tonight. My hotel isn't far from here. That way I feel that I can give you my undivided attention without us being interrupted.”

“Uhh? Isn't your wife here with you?” You asked, looking at him dumbfounded.

“That's why I booked two rooms. Yours is on a completely different floor so the two of you won't cross paths. And you weren't concerned when you had my dick in your mouth in my dressing room earlier knowing that she was here.”

“Isn't she going to notice you aren't next to her during the night? And you obviously didn't have a problem either since your face was between my thighs.” You shot back and all he did was smirk at you.

“Nope. And even if she does, I'll make up an excuse. So what do you say? And my favorite place to be is in-between your thighs.”

All you could do was roll your eyes and laugh.

“I didn't even bring any of my clothes and this is not going to be comfortable to sleep in.”

“Babe, what we're going to be doing doesn't involve clothes so that should be the least of your worries.”

“JACKMAN!”

“What!? What'd I say?!”

“Meaning in the morning, I'm not leaving in the same outfit I came in.”

“I have everything that you need already in your hotel room and all you have to do is bring yourself. Your husband can do without having you at home for one night.”

“He’s not even at home.”

“See? Even better. I just want to love up on my girl and give her the attention that she deserves. I have the key with me and was going to let you leave first so we don’t run the risk of anyone seeing you.”

“Looks like I’ll see you soon then.” You replied while smirking as he slipped you the hotel key.

“I shouldn’t be too much longer, and I’m going to wait until she falls asleep. And usually when she’s out, she’s out because she needs all her strength the next morning to stress me the fuck out.” Jack muttered, but you couldn’t help but to laugh.

“I’m serious, I don’t know if a switch finally went off in my brain but overall she’s not a nice person and not a good person. She is literally the definition of what you would call a mean girl.”

“You just finally realized that you deserved better and that definitely isn’t with her.”

“But enough about that. I just can’t wait to have you whimpering my name underneath me.”

—

Once you had gotten to the hotel and parked your car in the parking lot that was on the side of the building, you made your way to the room that Jack set aside for you and when you opened the door, the first thing you did was kick off your shoes.

He hadn’t just gotten you a simple hotel room, but an entire suite and your jaw was on the floor looking around it in awe.

You immediately grabbed your phone and sent him a text letting him know that you were there.

You- Now, Jackson…. An entire suite for just one night? You didn’t need to do all this.

Jack Jack- Yes I did because I want you to be comfortable. My baby girl deserves the best and who's to say that we’re only going to be there for one night?

All you did was laugh to yourself once you finished reading his text and went to explore the other parts of the suite.

Before you knew it, you had dozed off on the couch with the television on simply for background noise waiting for Jack and was woken up by him placing kisses all over your face before reaching the final destination of your lips.

“Hmm? What time is it?” You asked him while looking around for your phone.

“It’s around two, I’m sorry I didn’t think it would take this long.”

“No need to apologize, I got to go to sleep for a little bit so I don’t mind.”

“Mmm hmm, because you’re going to need it. If you aren’t too tired for me, I’m going to need for you to lose these clothes.” He said while helping you stand up and reaching underneath your skirt as he met your lips with yours.

“That can be arranged, but only if you take them off me.” You whispered against his lips when you broke the kiss and all he did was nod.

Jack was now holding onto your hips and eased his way in as he entered you from behind and you were leaning down against the pillow and biting down on your lip hard as you tried your best in order to keep quiet.

You had lost count of how many different positions that he had you in and just knew that he didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon and it wouldn’t surprise you if it started to get light outside either.

As you were whimpering and quietly moaning his name as he pounded into you, all he did was smirk before leaning down to place kisses all along your spine and whisper in your ear.

“My baby is taking me so well, are you going to cum for me?”

You couldn’t form an answer with words and simply nodded.

“Damn, this dick so good it got you speechless?” Jack spoke again and laughed and you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes.

Feeling him pull out, you were left confused until you felt his tongue run against your folds as he started eating you out from the back.

“Oh fuck, babe.”

“Stay still, why are you moving away from me?” He asked before going back to his task of making you come undone in front of him.

A few minutes later, you felt him stop once more and he quickly heard your protests before he slid underneath you so that you were now sitting on his face and he wrapped his arms around your thighs in order to keep you in place.

“Be patient because I have all night.” Was the last thing you heard him say before you felt him start to suck on your clit which led to you moaning his name.

You were now laying your head on Jack’s chest as he was drawing shapes on your back and the two of you were in a comfortable silence. You felt yourself dozing off to sleep when you suddenly heard his voice.

“Buttercup?”

“Yes, babe?” You sleepily answered with your eyes still closed.

“I have a question.”

“Go ahead and ask me then.”

“Why don’t you just file for divorce now? You told me that the baby has been born so what is even left for you in that marriage?”

“I just want to make sure that I do it the right way by making sure everything is in place before I do.”

“Babe, money is not an issue because you know I’m going to get you anything that you need or anything that you want. I just don’t like seeing you upset about him all the time. You know that you deserve better so I don’t have to tell you that, but…”

“Money definitely isn’t an issue. I just don’t want anything to happen that would make him want to retaliate against me.”

“Retaliate against you for what? He has a side chick and a baby, so why would he even do that?”

“That’s just how he is, and that’s why he’s such a good businessman. Sadly to say, he’s cut throat and doesn’t show any mercy and I know for a fact it’s to the point where he won’t hesitate to make me miserable. I was never on the receiving end of that, but I feel like once I file for divorce I will be.”

“Baby, all the more reason to get the fuck away from him so we can be together like we want to be. Why do I feel like you’re hesitating? Isn’t this what we talked about and isn’t this what we want? For you to finally move back to Louisville and live with me?”

“I’m not hesitating.”

“Yes you are and you keep giving me excuses. You’re a damn CRNA for fucks sake but moving back you will definitely have a pay cut but right now, you can afford the lawyer and all the fees, but I will pay for you to divorce that asshole, so what excuse are you going to give me now?”

Your eyes were now open as you sat up and looked at him.

“Why are you rushing me?”

“Buttercup, I’m not by any means rushing you. I just don’t want to see you upset all the time about what he’s doing to you.”

“Why are we only talking about me in this situation? You’re asking me what the hold up is on my end, but what is the hold up on yours? You have an entire wife that you need to divorce too, do you not?”

“I do and it’s going to happen, but unlike you I’m not making excuses and hesitating. I’m ready to file for divorce and get away from her, but I’m also waiting on you so hopefully they can be finalized at the same time. I made her sign a prenup, well, Neelam made her sign one so she isn’t getting a damn thing from me. How could you still love someone like that who has fucked you over a countless number of times? He literally got another woman pregnant.”

“And I don’t know that? How many times are you going to remind me? I already feel stupid about still loving someone like that and this conversation isn’t making it any better.”

“I want to be all in with you, but we can’t do that unless some changes are made. I want for you to experience this life with me. This is literally what we talked about when we were seventeen. There is NOTHING left for you and him. If we would have stayed together, I know for a damn fact that we would have been married by now.”

“But would we? You would have probably had to hide me once Gen Now signed you to push that single narrative.”

“What the? Where is that coming from? The first thing that I would have wanted to do was fucking protect you because this life I live isn’t easy and the last thing I would want is you getting hurt by it. Y/N, why can’t you see how much I STILL love you?”

“I… need to leave.”

“What?! It’s six in the morning and you’ve hardly gotten any sleep. I don’t want you driving anywhere and we’re not done talking about this. Why are you running from me? What are you scared of? You know that I’m going to love and protect you and treat you how you deserve to be treated. If anything, I’m the one who should be mad at you because it honestly feels like you’re making it seem like I’m a second choice to Xavier when I for damn sure treat you better than he does.”

“That is NOT fucking fair and you KNOW it. What was I supposed to do? Wait for you? It's not like I intended on him doing that to me!”

“YES!”

“So now I’m being guilt tripped into falling in love with someone else? You had every single opportunity to reach out to me if you really wanted us to be together, but you didn’t. So, why the fuck did you get married in the first place?”

“How was I supposed to know that I would get a second chance? Or at least I’m trying to get a second chance with you, but you are making it so got damn difficult.”

“Then let me help make this easier for you since I’m so difficult. I’m leaving and don’t even bother fucking calling me again.”

“Baby, baby wait. Hold on, just please. Let’s back up for a second.” He pleaded with you as you got up and made your way into the bathroom, but he beat you to it and ended up blocking the doorway. You simply crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him.

“Jackman Thomas, get the fuck out of my way.”

“I’m not losing you for a second time!”

“Too late, because you already did.”

Once you had left the suite, Jack then took the long walk back to his room with Kelsey and was praying that she wasn’t awake quite yet. But once he opened the door, he silently cursed to himself because she was wide awake and looking at him.

“Where were you?” She asked without bothering to say good morning to him.

“I went for a walk, I wasn’t gone long.”

“Hmm, I need to ask you something.”

“Can it wait?”

“No, it can't wait. Who is Y/N to you?”

Now, he wasn’t quite sure what the two of you were anymore.

“I told you that we knew each other in high school, so what’s the big deal?” He asked before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Well, I don’t like her and I don’t want you around her anymore.”

Jack whipped his head around to stare at her in disbelief.

“And who the hell are you to think that you can tell me who I can have around me? And how do you not like her when you don’t know her?”

“I’m your wife and she makes me uncomfortable and you should respect that.”

“She literally didn’t even do anything.”

“Were the two of you just friends in high school or more?”

“Why are you so pressed about this?”

“Answer my damn question.”

“I’m not answering shit until you lose that attitude. It’s like you just wake up and decide how the hell can I get on Jack’s nerves today?”

“You get on my last nerve, do you know how lucky you are to have me as your wife? Other men would jump at the opportunity to have me if I was single.”

“Then go ahead and be single, no one’s fucking stopping you. And I’m lucky? Explain that because I’m not quite understanding.”

“I just want to know what she is to you.”

“She’s my friend and she’s my ex-girlfriend. Are you happy now?”

“WAIT, your ex-girlfriend?!”

“Did I stutter? Now, I’m going to sleep if you don’t mind because I’m still tired.”

“We aren’t done with this!”

“Yes we are because I answered your question and since any man would be lucky to have you, go out and find them and stop bothering me.”

“Well she needs to get the message that you’re my husband and not hers.”

“Hmm, am I?”

“What the hell is wrong with you this morning? You act like I went out and cheated on you.”

“Kelsey, let’s not go there because you did and I took your ass back despite you doing that. But you best believe that if I had known on our wedding day what you had done, we would not be married right now. Truth be told, I should have left your ass at the altar if I knew.”

“I… I apologized about that and I regret it. Why are you still holding it against me?”

“Seriously? You literally cheated on me hours before we said our vows so you can save it.”

It had been over a month since you last talked to Jack and you had simply been going through the motions. You were upset how the two of you ended things, but still felt as if he was rushing you. You had been back to Louisville a few times since you were slowly moving things out of your house that you wanted to take with you and of course, Xavier hadn't noticed anything. Which you weren’t the least bit surprised by.

Urban had been calling you

Clay had been calling you

Neelam had been calling you

And you told each of them the same thing, for right now, you and him were done.

Jack called you nonstop for the first two weeks and then his calls just stopped altogether right along with the texts as well. Thinking about the situation, both of you could have handled the conversation differently and it didn’t have to end with you leaving. But as of right now, you were in a weird headspace. In order to not think too deeply about your feelings about the entire situation, you drowned yourself into working and uploading content to your TikTok that was centered around nursing and working as a CRNA.

Your best friend Taina who you also worked with could tell that something was bothering you and without a second thought you said yes to her asking you out for brunch one day that the two of you had off. You met in nursing school and also went on to get your CRNA certification together and she had been your rock through the entire mess that had been going down with Xavier. However, she didn’t know too much about you and Jack reuniting and after seeing your instagram post a while back, she made note to ask you about it but never did. So she figured now was her opportunity.

The two of you were sitting across from one another and you were sipping on your orange juice as she was eyeing you.

“Y/N….”

“Yes?”

“What has been going on because you haven’t been yourself lately. I get everything with Xavier, and I offered to cut his balls off and feed them to him, but you declined. However, I feel that it’s something else.”

“Hmm, been sleeping with my ex-boyfriend since March.” You casually told her as you were scanning the menu and trying to decide what you were going to eat.

“Hold on, back up. Which ex-boyfriend?” Tania asked because there had been a few of them when the two of you were in college.

“The one I was with when I was in Louisville.” You answered and suddenly her eyes went wide with a realization.

“Hmm, would his name happen to be Jack?”

“Not so loud!” You exclaimed as you shushed her, but all she did was smirk.

“Okay… so? How’s that going? When can I meet him?”

“Well we got into an argument and we haven’t talked to each other in about a month.”

“What? Why?”

“Long story short, both of us are supposed to get divorced and then be together, but it turned into an argument because he said he felt like I was hesitating even though he also has an entire wife.”

“But, let’s be real. What are you waiting for exactly?” Tania asked and all you did was look at her because it seemed like now you didn’t have an answer.

“Y/N, from what you’ve told me over the years about him, he is head over heels in love with you and he wants to be with you so kick Xavier’s ass to the curb and be with someone who you know is going to love you and treat you how you’re supposed to be treated.”

“You’re right, I just don’t know. I’ve gotten comfortable in this life as stupid as that may sound. I know I deserve better, but I cannot open my heart again because I’m scared. What if we break up and we truly end up hating each other? He truly does mean the world to me and I would never in a million years want to hurt him.”

“You say that, but however, the way you two left off with each other made me think that you did hurt him and hurt his feelings. Not saying that he didn’t do the same thing to you, but just talk it out with him. I’m sure he wants to hear from you. He is not Xavier and never will be.”

“I don’t know, he stopped calling me after the first two weeks when I didn’t answer and hasn’t called since.”

“Then you call him and see if he wants to talk. Y/N, the people around you want so much better for you and I’m sad that Xavier has you so brainwashed that you can’t see it.”

“There’s something else….” You started to say as you looked down and started to play with your bracelet.

“What is it?”

“I miss my period and think I might be pregnant.”

“I…. Y/N! When we leave here, the first thing you are going to do is call that man! And I want an update after you do.”

It had been a total of two hours that you had been staring at your phone contemplating on if you were going to pick it up and call Jack.

But once again you were scared. Scared that he was going to reject you and not want to have anything to do with you anymore. But, you knew that you had to try.

You decided to facetime him and it rang for a while before he finally answered.

When you saw him, your breath hitched in your throat and your heart was now beating a mile a minute as you were the first to speak.

“Hi.” Was all you said and you couldn’t quite read his expression.

“Did you need something?” He asked and skipped over the greeting entirely.

“I… just want to talk. I didn’t like how it ended the last time we saw each other.”

“I consistently tried to call you and talk to you for fourteen days, so why do you want to talk now?”

“Because I was mad at you. You were right… about some things and I just wasn’t quite ready to hear it.”

It was quiet for a few seconds as Jack was simply looking at you and you saw Clay walk behind him.

“Look, meet me on the tarmac at LAX around 7 tomorrow morning.” Jack finally spoke up and you looked at him with wide eyes.

“Wait, what?”

“A car will come and pick you up. Pack a few casual outfits, but other than that I got it handled. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Um, okay.”

Without another word the two of you hung up and you simply sat there unsure about what just happened. He seemed annoyed with you which you could understand, but obviously he still wants this just as bad as you do because he answered the phone. You sat there for a few more minutes before you hopped up to run into your walk-in closet to drag out your suitcase.

The next morning, you were now pulling up to the private jet in the car that Jack had sent for you and the butterflies you had been feeling the entire ride on the way here, had now been doubled. He obviously wanted to see you, because why else would he tell you to meet him here? The driver opened the door for you and helped you out of the car as your suitcase was loaded onto the plane. The first one to pop up and greet you was Neelam who quickly went in for a hug.

“I’m so happy you came. He definitely needs a little pick me up. He’s already on the plane so come on.” She said as she squeezed your hand and started to lead you to the steps of the jet, but you stopped walking and she turned back to look at you confused.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

Your eyes simply started to water before giving her an answer, but she saw them and quickly reassured you.

“He’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. Don’t worry about what may have happened before, just move forward.

You nodded your head towards her as she went up the steps first as you followed behind her. Once the two of you were on the jet, she went straight to Urban and hit him across the back of his head because he had apparently been eating her fries which you laughed at.

Your eyes were searching for him and saw that he was simply in the back by himself gazing out the window and you started to make your way towards him. Once you reached him, he seemed to be deep in thought and didn’t notice you standing next to him until you ran your hand through his curls. Startled, he looked up at you before standing up and placing you in a giant bear hug.

“I’m sorry.” He quietly said as his head rested on top of yours.

“I am too.” You whispered as you held onto him tighter.

Once the two of you broke apart, he leaned down to place several kisses on your lips which you gladly accepted and that instantly put a smile on your face.

All you heard was whistling and turned around to see Clay and Urban smirking at both of you as Neelam was trying to eat the rest of her fries before Urban got to them.

“It’s about time the lovebirds reunited.”

Everyone got settled and it was soon time for takeoff. You and Jack were cuddled up with each other in the back with him stealing kisses every few minutes and everyone else was scattered throughout the plane.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You finally asked when the plane had been in the air for a few hours at this point.

“Give me another kiss and I might tell you.”

All you did was shake your head at him before smirking and pulling his face towards yours to grant his wish.

“Okay, so now tell me.”

“You’re coming to Fashion Week with me.”

“Okay?”

“In Paris.” He added on and knew that your facial expression was about to be priceless.

Your eyes then went as big as saucers as you looked at him and all he did was laugh.

“And I got Givenchy to make you a dress that was specially made just for you. We’re getting there a day early just in case adjustments need to be made.”

“Babe…”

“I mean it when I said that I would do anything for you. I just want you to know that.”

You nodded your head at him to acknowledge what he said and he held you tighter as you laid your head on his chest.

“I have to tell you something.” You said as you glanced up at him and he nodded.

“I…. may or may not be pregnant. I missed my period, but I haven’t gotten a chance to take a test yet.” You whispered and all he did was lean down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“Whatever comes our way, we’re going to get through it together.”

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, neelamthadhani, cozane, givenchy, claybornharlow, quiiso, and 415,271 others

anesthesiabae: Paris is always a good idea. Thank you givenchy 💖

jackharlow: 😍😍😍 neelamthadhani: DAMN, if you weren't married and if I was into girls 👀👀 claybornharlow: OH, my good sis ATE! jackharlow: that dress was made for you, LITERALLY tainathecrna: you look so beautiful! my gorgeous girl! urbanwyatt: neelamthadhani I think you might have to fight a couple people to get next to her first neelamthadhani: urbanwyatt all I have to do is distract you with weed, clay with chic-fil-a and jack with a cigar. I'll make it happen.

It was now day three of you being in Paris with Jack and the two of you were on the balcony of your hotel room sitting in a comfortable silence when you finally broke it.

“Are we ever going to talk about that conversation and what was said?” You asked him as you looked at him and he took a deep sigh before nodding.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I was rushing you, that is literally the last thing I want. But, I also need to be honest about my feelings, if neither of us were married, we literally would have gone to Vegas in March and eloped.” Jack honestly said and you couldn’t help but to laugh.

“At the end of the day, I just want you to be happy. Aren’t you happy when you’re with me?” He asked you as you started to play with his Private Garden ring.

“Y/N, look at me.” Jack told you as he placed his finger underneath your chin to guide it upwards.

“Jack I….”

“No, you don't have anywhere to be right now, especially anywhere that he is. You are right where you need to be and that’s here with me. Why do you keep running back to him when we both know he's not any good for you? It should have always been the two of us.”

“It's not that simple.”

“But it is that simple, baby and we’ve been through this. I know you’re scared, but it’s going to be okay. I’m not him and will never be. Look me in my eyes and tell me right now that you don't have feelings for me and I promise to never bother you again after this trip is over.”

All you did was stay silent as you were trying to regulate your breathing with him being so incredibly close to you. Your heart was beating a mile a minute as he moved a curl out of your face. Your thoughts were running rampant remembering all those times when your body was under Jack’s and for the first time in many years, you felt that someone actually loved and cared for you.

But you've always felt that way when you were around him.

Jack chuckled to himself when you couldn’t answer him and simply placed a soft kiss on your lips which you eagerly returned. You had your back towards the street and was hoping that no one had seen the two of you.

“It sure is telling when I fly you out all over the world to experience this life with me when he can't even remember your fucking favorite color or your Starbucks order. Not to mention how you told me last night that you hadn't been fucked that good in years and you only feel that way towards me. Leave him so I can give you the life you deserved. The life that we talked about when we were in high school. Baby, let me take care of you the way I promised you that I would.”

You sat there as you listened to him and knew that he was good at keeping promises and keeping his word. So, what did you have to lose?

This is what you wanted and what you deserved.

“You've gotten so comfortable in being mistreated by him and that ends right now. So, are you going to give me an answer? Because you know you won't want for anything.”

“When I file for divorce, he's going to want half.”

“Let him have it. I have more than enough to take care of you.”

“So, we're really doing this?” You whispered as you placed your arms around him to hug him tighter.

“We’re doing this.” He answered while leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“Hmm, the only question now is how your gold digging wife is going to take it.”

“She’ll get over it. She already knows that we dated because she was asking me about you and she kept nagging and of course she got an upset look on her face afterwards. But enough about that. When we both get back home, we’re filing for divorce.”

“And I can’t wait to be with you all the time.” You said as you looked up at him.

He leaned down to kiss you, but you stopped him, figuring that paparazzi were still out and about since it was Fashion Week.

“Babe, let’s go in the suite and off the balcony. We can’t risk anyone seeing us.”

“It’s fine, baby. No one is out here and it’s three in the morning. Just kiss me.”

You woke up in Jack’s arms because you heard your phone repeatedly going off in your ear and quickly heard his protests.

“Baby, turn it off.” You heard him say as he squeezed you tighter.

“I am, give me a minute!” You responded by laughing, but once you saw the numerous notifications your heart dropped.

Jack Harlow seen in Paris at Fashion Week making out with a mysterious woman who is NOT his wife Kelsey!

Your heart rate suddenly increased and you felt like it was getting harder to breathe. Jack noticed that you hadn’t laid back down yet and simply sat up to ask you what was wrong.

“Baby?”

All you did was shove your phone towards him and he quietly uttered ‘fuck’ under his breath.

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow smut #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow imagines #jackman thomas harlow #jackman harlow

163 notes · View notes

nonstoplover · 1 year

Text

flashes of silver ~ lewis hamilton (lh44)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

summary: with the annual fia gala coming up, lewis decides to do something as a kind of thank you to his hard-working team, and invites one of the girls working for mercedes as his plus one.

words: 3.4K

warnings: cheesy fluffy stuff; a possible age gap if you squint your eyes but nothing actually mentioned; probably not accurately written shop scene (if you can't tell, i've never been in any fancy shop lol)

a/n: i had a dream. one simple dream that pulled me out of the past few months' writer's block. it was a bit of a struggle though to kinda get back into writing rhythm but whatever. i needed to get this out of my system before i go mad. first lh44 fic also!

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

"I don't have any dress that's good enough for a gala," she shakes her head ferociously, her eyes not leaving the man standing before her. She still can't fight the small voice in her head telling her that it's just a joke. A prank, probably for the team's social media pages. Why else would he approach her with something so ridiculous?

Under her curious, cautious gaze, Lewis just reaches into his pocket, and without breaking eye contact for a single second, pulls his card out and places it on the desk in front of her. "Go buy yourself something then. You deserve it anyway."

All words leave her mind, it's like her vocabulary has been completely erased. The only thing she can do is allow her eyes to widen in sync with her lips, as she tries to comprehend what she's just heard.

"Come on, take it," he encourages with a small smile.

When she still doesn't move an inch, the man playfully sighs, extending his arm to grab the card once more. With his other hand, he reaches even further, under the desktop to take hold of her hand resting on her lap. A gentle but still dynamic movement later he's pried her fingers open and placed the card in her palm. His own fingers stay there, flesh to flesh, for a second longer, before closing her fist around the plastic and retreating his touch.

As the air-conditioned, cool air hits the back of her hand again, (y/n) wakes from her trance. Her eyes flash up and down a couple times, from the driver to the card and back again. "I can't spend your money. I won't spend your money."

"I have more than enough, it's okay."

"That doesn't change what I said."

"(y/n), please. I already told the entire media team that I'm taking you. I told even Toto." Lewis presses his hands against the wooden surface and leans against it for support as he continues to stand at her desk.

The way he keeps on insisting this for the past five minutes makes her start to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he actually means it, and this is not a joke.

"Why?"

He can still hear the disbelief in her voice, and has to control himself not to roll his eyes as he giggles. "I already told you like twice since I came here."

"But it doesn't make sense. I mean, I get it, you wanna give something back to the team for their hard work or whatever, but why don't you take literally anyone else than me?"

"You're next in line," he shrugs.

Why do his eyes always have to be so kind and so lovely and so heartwarming and so–, she stops herself before she spirals down that rabbit hole again.

"You've been working here for years, having my back all the time, and so I figured it would be a nice thank you, from me to you."

"You know, an actual thank you would be sufficient," she smiles lightly up at him after a second of silent ponder – the first crack in her indevout façade, and the first tiny wave of relief in his body.

"Okay, you know what?" Lewis pauses, waiting until her eyes flash with pure curiosity, all caution forgotten. "We're going dress shopping together. Right now."

(y/n) lets out a chuckle that comes to an abrupt stop when she sees him hold his hand out, palm up and open, obviously waiting. For her. He means it.

"I'm working," her mind says the first response it can come up with – earning an imaginary slap when she actually realises what she's just said.

(y/f/n) would kill me if she heard this, she thinks with certain memories of her avid LH44 fan best friend appearing in her mind. Who in her right mind would find an excuse to say no to an offer like this from Lewis Hamilton himself?

"I'm sure your boss will understand if you tell him who you were with and why," he chuckles, the sound making the tips of her fingers tingle and her heart flutter.

"Oh, right," (y/n) lets out a laugh, cheeks turning red in slight embarrassment as her eyes flicker down to the keyboard sitting in front of her. Her boss, Toto Wolff definitely wouldn't mind if he already agreed to this crazy plan previously.

"So, you coming?" Lewis wiggles his fingers, gathering the girl's attention. She slowly raises her head, mentally preparing herself for what she's about to do, then as if the world has abruptly changed to slow motion, (y/n) watches her free hand move up and a long second later arrive into his still waiting palm.

Just in time with his fingers tightening momentarily around hers, she can hear her own laughter jingle loud. Is this a dream?

"You're beautiful," Lewis greets her as the chauffeur closes the car door behind her, his smile creating wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – something she's always found absolutely adorable.

"Thanks," she mumbles in response, struggling to keep eye contact when she notices the intense look in his gaze.

"Maybe you could give me your stylist's number."

Upon hearing this, (y/n) can't help but glance at the driver sitting next to her, lips curling into a wide grin, exactly how he wanted. "I don't know, I'd have to ask him first to see if he agreed," she answers and they let out a giggle at the same time, both of them remembering that one afternoon a few days back.

"We really shouldn't go in here," (y/n) stops short on the pavement, her heels pressing down on the asphalt.

"We really should, though," Lewis grabs her hand without even glancing her way, pulling the girl behind him right into the shop.

"Lewis!" she hisses, stumbling in her steps as she rushes to keep up with his relentless pace. "One dress here costs more money than all I've ever earned."

"Then it's good that I already told you I'm paying," comes his immediate, somewhat deadpan reply.

He doesn't stop and doesn't let go of her hand, not until she's in the spacious changing room in the back of the extremely fancy dress shop, along with a mountain of colourful, unambiguously expensive materials. "I'll be out here waiting," he announces, then leaves her with the shop assistant, drawing the heavy, thick curtain closed behind him.

What feels like a million dresses later, the young woman helping her dress lets out an approving gasp, loud enough that even Lewis can hear it from the other side, as he's scrolling on social media sitting in the almost overly comfortable armchair, the sound piquing his interest. With one firm push to her shoulder, the woman twirls (y/n) around until she comes face to face with the huge mirror.

The silver silk is still rippling around her legs from the sudden movement, reflecting the light and thereby making her practically shine. It's modest, with thin straps on her shoulders and the neckline not too revealing, a monochrome, bright silver dress – and (y/n) has to admit to herself that the material tightly hugging her torso is the most magical thing her skin has ever touched. She feels almost royal in it.

For the first time since they've arrived in the shop, she doesn't feel like a clown and all ridiculous when the curtain gets pulled back and Lewis raises his head to catch a glance at her. Her skin tingles and heart flutters as his eyes move down and then up again on her body just like they did several times in the past hour or so – but the nervous feeling finally gets replaced with something new, something exciting.

One simple, consenting inclination of the man's head in an upright motion, and time speeds up. The next couple minutes go by in a blur, and by the time she at last emerges from the changing room for the final time, now in her original clothes – that feel almost painfully too ordinary after the magnificent dress – Lewis has already arranged everything, and is simply waiting for her at the counter.

(y/n) thinks about the excitement she felt when she woke up in the morning, knowing that in a few hours, her dress will be delivered and she can feel the smooth, cool silk wrap around her body once more.

Now she allows her eyes to truly take in the man next to her, curiosity getting the best of her as she shamelessly checks him out. He refused to let her know what he's going to wear, only making her a promise that they're going to match. Now his body is wrapped in a suit, one that's seemingly made from the same silver silk that she has on, with something white peaking out from under it – but (y/n)'s just unable to look away from the suit itself, not even for a second. She can't help but think about how regal he looks, how he's so easily going to outshine anyone in the room. How the two of them are going to shine together. Silver, like the team they both work for. Like the Silver Arrows.

"Like it?" His voice breaks her out of her trance, and she blinks the thoughts away, hoping the makeup the girl Lewis was kind enough to arrange for her applied some time earlier effectively hides the flushed colour of her cheeks.

She nods. "You look amazing. As always," she adds, almost as an afterthought, eliciting the famous giggle from his lips, and thereby sending the flutters in her whole body into overdrive.

"We look amazing, love," he smiles, momentarily reaching over to squeeze her hand that's laying on top of her thigh, and she has to focus with all she has not to reveal in any way the effect him calling her that has had on her.

How on Earth did I get into this situation?, she wonders, eyes frantically searching for the familiar sight of Lewis in the crowd of people.

As soon as he's left her side, people flocked her like predacious birds. Not just some people, no. People who've been waiting to catch her alone ever since they arrived. People whose work includes creating drama with made up stories and rumours all too often. Journalists.

(y/n) sees no way out as they keep trying to make conversation with her, their questions whizzingly filling her ears and mind.

"Are you his girlfriend?"

"How long have you been dating?"

"It must be serious if he took you to a gala like this, is it?"

"How can someone like Sir Lewis Hamilton, dream of millions of women, who could have anyone he wanted, choose someone like you, plain, and really, a nobody?"

This is the question the driver hearswhen he gets back from the counter offering drinks, a glass each in his hands. His eyes widen, realising his mistake of leaving her alone even for only such a short time. He should've known better. He should've expected journalists here, who would come up with their theories, just because his plus one to this event is a woman they've never seen, at least definitely not with him before. He just assumed – mistakenly, as he can now see – that to a high prestige event like this, such vultures won't get invited.

This is the question that makes his mind cloud with anger. How could any person in their right mind say this to someone, anyone, but especially to such a gorgeous young woman that she is. Without a second thought, he pushes care out the window and behaves on instinct. With a softly spoken pardon, he pushes his way through the group of journalists, stepping up to her side. Even in his slightly foggy state of mind he can see – or more likely feel –the way her shoulder drop a little, relief obviously coursing through her veins finally as she moves just an inch closer to his body. Seeking for protection.

His arm moves next, on its own accord really, as he hands her one of the drinks he's brought, then using his now free hand to snake it around her waist, pulling her tight into his side. All this happens in one short second, and in the next one, he's turning his head to press a soft but lingering kiss on her temple.

Then, as if he's just remembered the gathering of people around them, looks away from her once more, searching non-stop with his eyes until he finds that one journalist who said the final question before his arrival, his stare turning cold and almost deadly. He can faintly hear the girl next to him stutter to get an answer out, but precede her with one simple sentence aimed mainly at that person his eyes are still trained on.

"You mean, how could someone like me get a woman so breathtaking as her, right?"

A beat passes when no one speaks, when no one seems to dare even to breathe, then he continues, his stare finally moving back to (y/n), gaze softening. "Because to be honest even I don't know, still looking for an answer."

Lewis smiles, sweet as ever, as if nothing like that death stare has just happened, before lifting the glass in his hand to take a sip. As the alcohol swirls around his tongue, a sudden thought pops in his mind, and within a second, he's reaching out, and with the backs of his fingers he touches her jaw, to make her turn her head towards him gently. Then, like nothing is more natural than this, he leans in and presses a kiss on her lips. To try and make what he's said even more believable.

The prior couple seconds have already left (y/n) completely bemused and speechless, but this one action of his tops them all. Her heart nearly jumps out of her chest, and she can feel her eyes being extremely wide from the surprise she's feeling, his words being on constant replay in her ears. As her mind slowly catches up to her and realises what he's most probably playing at, she pulls herself together to play her part, not wanting to ruin the act and thereby making a fool out of him – meaning simply melting into his kiss, which is really not that hard, to be frank.

As he pulls away, Lewis gazes at her a little longer than he was necessarily supposed to, then with a simple, murmured excuse us to the journalists and with his hand leaving her waist only to intertwine their fingers, he pulls her away from the spot. He keeps on moving until he's pulled her into an empty corridor, not stopping until he makes sure they are fully alone – leaving that one journalist to stand in shame, while the others can't help but think slyly about what the reason behind his hurried exit with his girlfriend could be.

In line with his abrupt stop, he drops her hand immediately, turning towards her in one swift motion with an unexpected shy, apologising look in his eyes. Before she can gather her thoughts and say anything, his voice already rings out in-between the walls of the corridor. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable – and I truly hope I didn't – and I definitely did not just use this situation for my own gains, to get some juicy stories of me in the papers or whatever, and I will never step over these boundaries again, I just wanted to stop that bullshit that journalist has started."

Thoughts finally start to make sense in her head again, but before she can get a word out, he rambles on. "And I want you to know that what they told was completely wrong. I meant it, what I said back there, word for word. Well, except the part about me getting you since obviously we're nothing like that, but I just wanted you to know that it's the truth."

He would probably keep on talking if it wasn't for her hand gently being placed on his forearm. (y/n) smiles up at him as echos of his last, firmly stated sentence still faintly ring out. "Lewis, it's okay." The driver stops and takes a breath. "You didn't have to do it though, it's not your job to... protect me from anything, especially not from what random people say."

"I know, but I wanted to. Couldn't bear it if I knew you lived on with these words in your head about yourself," Lewis replies with a small smile finally once more gracing his face.

Her eyes break the eye contact as they move down to inspect her shoes, her cheeks suddenly feeling quite hot. "Thank you. It was very lovely of you."

When he doesn't say anything, she takes a deep breath, and with that, looks back up again only to find him wordlessly watching her. Her glance flickers to his lips, noticing some residue of her lipstick smeared around his skin there. With eyes widening, she's fast to reach up and wipe it off, mumbling under her breath something about the deep red colour.

Those heavy brown eyes of his don't leave her face, following her every movement, and the same thoughts come back to his mind that he was thinking right after that very kiss. As if she could read his mind, she continues speaking, now a little louder, braver. "Especially the kiss," she says, though with an even darker red shade colouring her cheeks. "You definitely didn't have to do that, it was believable enough without it."

Lewis thinks for a second, eyes focused on her lips for a moment longer – something that she just catches when she finishes wiping the residue off –, then his glance moves further up her face to stare into her eyes, with an abrupt seriousness and determination gleaming on his face.

"And what if I say that it wasn't a part of that whole play pretend? Not really."

Her breath catches in her throat as her mind scrambles to comprehend his words and what he could possibly imply with them. "What do you mean?" she mumbles in the end, the tips of her fingers starting to itch in their sudden shaky state.

"What if I say I wanted to kiss you in that moment?"

Lewis takes a long second to pause, in which he examines her reaction carefully to know if he should continue or not. He looks all around her face, searching for clues – and easily finding them. In how her eyes sparkle in a way he's never seen them shine before, how her cheeks are flushed bright pink, how her lips slightly open in shock but their corners are curling up into the beginnings of a smile.

He decides he can safely continue.

"What if I say I want to kiss you in this moment?"

Her fingers twitch, her heart skips a beat. In that same second, his fingers reach out to grab hers, pulling them to his chest, only to press them down right there immediately. Through the cold to the touch silk, she can clearly feel his heart beating in a rapid rhythm, almost equalling hers.

(y/n) lets her eyes follow their hands, momentarily mesmerised by how beautifully their skins blend into the other, through the cracks in-between his fingers that are nearly covering all of hers. Then her glance moves higher, right to his lips, before slowly, eventually arriving to his eyes. She doesn't find it in herself to speak, doesn't trust her lips and her voice to be able to say what she truly feels and means, and so only moves her head in the tiniest of nods, careful not to break eye contact.

Lewis has been attentively waiting for her response for several long seconds now, being ready for whatever it might be. When it comes, he jumps on the opportunity like there's no tomorrow, like he's scared she might change her mind if he waits a second longer, and catches her lips with his own in a single movement, once more in the past five minutes, but this time with much more meaning to it.

notes: oh god the way i pictured this so vividly in my head following nothing but a freaking dream my mind came up with... ever since then i couldn't get it out of my head. i know i didn't do it justice with how i've written it, but honestly? i just needed to write it down before i go crazy. (and to think that i'm not even that crazy of a lewis fan... what this could've been if i was?!)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

taglist: formulapierre

if anyone wanted an idea about the dress i had in mind while writing:

480 notes · View notes

capricornlevi · 6 months

Text

(wc 759)

"you're gonna make me look good?"

jean's question is delivered with that annoying crooked smile, his jersey hugging tight across his chest as he stands with his hands clasped behind his back. he arches an eyebrow expectantly as you fiddle with the camera, trying to fix the settings that seem to have adjusted themselves without your knowledge.

as captain of the soccer team, he's the last player whose picture you need to capture for the college yearbook, and also as the captain, he brings with him an exceptionally smug but annoyingly charming aura that threatens to penetrate your stony resolve.

no, you force yourself to keep a straight face, it's bad enough that you got roped into this gig for free as a favour to your professor, you don't need to start stretching out these interactions any longer.

at that, you set the camera back on the tripod and lean closer, making sure the framing is right.

"okay, smile?" you say, halfway between an instruction and a question.

"i am smiling," he retorts instantly.

"smile ... i don't know, properly."

he winces with mock offence, screwing up whatever hope you had of getting the picture in one shot and finishing up for the day.

"properly?" he queries incredulously.

you sigh, closing your eyes so you don't roll them.

"professionally, then. formally. whatever what you want to do it."

"not open to me doing a silly one?"

"i'll give you one guess on that."

in the viewfinder you see jean's face twist back into that now-familiar smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, the light brown of his hair contrasting again the royal blue of the drape behind him.

(the hall of the gym isn't the best place to set up an impromptu photo studio, but you found an old team flag bundled up in a supply cupboard that made for a decent background)

"okay, okay, i'll be professional. showing my leadership qualities, and so on."

"great," you say flatly, focusing the camera.

"really demonstrating my abilities to represent the school."

"sounds good."

"recording this moment for future generations to come, a piece of living history--"

"do you ever stop talking?"

your interruption was intended to throw him off his tangent, hopefully to buy enough time for you to actually get the picture, but all it does is make him throw his head back with a laugh.

"i can if you want me to."

"if you wouldn't mind," you mumble, feeling a slight pang of guilt at how hard you came in when he's clearly just trying to lighten the mood.

still, you've been here since seven this morning -- soccer practice is early early, you've discovered -- and all you want in the world is to make your way home to collapse back into bed.

"ok, i'll shut up for a minute. if you can answer something for me first."

you take a steadying breath, temper starting to simmer. "what is it?"

"can you actually tell me if i look good?"

against all odds, he shocks you out of your sullen silence.

you pull away from focusing at the camera display to stare wordlessly at jean, the seriousness of the question still pinging around in your head.

he's flirting, obviously, but the question was delivered with sincerity.

"meaning?" you ask. no harm in clarifying, plus you're not entirely sure if he's looking for an ego boost or just asking whether his jersey is too wrinkled or his hair out of place.

"do i look good?"

you swallow thickly, avoiding the temptation to give him a once over. "you look fine."

"fine won't make the history books," he objects; again, with a hint of earnestness that you could find amusing in another setting.

"whatever. you look good, then."

"hair okay?"

"it's a mullet, so --"

he clutches his chest as if wounded, fully grinning now. "no cheap shots at the mullet while I'm in such a vulnerable position, im begging you."

again, your curiosity forces you to engage.

"vulnerable how?"

still smiling, eyes fixed on you, he answers.

"well, talking to a pretty girl, for one thing. secondly, pretty sure she's sworn off soccer players for good after this morning, so ... uphill battle, and all that. plus ive had a crush on her since she was selected as photographer for the championship final last year, so even more's at stake, y'know."

you pause. no words leave you, nothing even resembling a response. you're sure your mouth has actually dropped open.

brow arched again, jean tilts his head forward expectantly.

"aren't you gonna take the picture?"

#jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean x you #may tries to write #nanowrimo23 #nanowrimo drabble 1 of many i hope teehee #i love u jean kirstein #i love u cocky college athlete jean kirstein hc

180 notes · View notes

shankss-magnificent-ass · 1 year

Text

Imagine becoming a part of the red hair pirate's disembarking procedure

Part 2 of this post (it's free to view on Patreon, you just need an account I think)

Benn: *talking to the whole crew* Alright, we're going onto an island we've never been on before, and one we're not sure if anyone has ever landed here. We have protocol for this, and it's paramount that you follow it to a T.

Shanks: *whispers* oh shit, you know he's serious when he breaks out the big words.

Yassop: *snickers*

Benn: I'm going to give you a refresher on the rules.... We use the buddy system, no one gets to shit without their buddy.

You: Just what I always wanted, a poop buddy.

Shanks: *puts his arm around your shoulders* the only time our synchronized bowel movements are a blessing.

You: *rolls your eyes* at least we won't have to fight over who gets to use the bathrooms first.

Shanks: now I get what I have always dreamed of, to hold your hand and look deep into your eyes while we poop.

You: *shudders in horror* You're so weird.

Shanks: *plants a wet kiss on your cheek*

Benn: Now would those of you assigned to the exploration party please line up at the gangway for departure.

You: *goes to help Hongo prep a med pack for the exploration crew*

Hongo: *once the kit is finished* They're going to want you to take it to them.

You: Uh, okay? *takes it out to see them waiting patiently in line for them.

Benn: Excellent *takes the med kit and straps it to his pack* Now time for our kiss goodbye. *Bends down, so his forehead is level with your face*

You: Really?

Benn: yes, now hop to it.

You: *rolls your eyes, but gives each of them a forehead kiss*

The next island

You: *Currently too sick and infectious for Hongo to allow the crew in the med bay to get their kisses goodbye*

The exploration team: *has a horrible time on the island*

After getting back to the ship and getting the hell off that island

Benn: we barely got out of there, Hongo, you really need to get them back on their feet before the next island.

Hongo: *patching up Benn's shoulder* who are you talking about?

Shanks: My partner, obviously, we have the worst luck without them around.

Hongo: I'm sorry my skills aren't enough for you

Shanks: It's not that you aren't enough, because I have absolute faith in your skills. It's just I always feel bad, like I'm wasting your time, when I have to come to you for treatment every single time we step off the ship. Also being hurt sucks, if we can prevent it before that happens that'd be way better for everyone. I mean wouldn't you rather be conducting that research you've been working on for years?

Hongo: ....fair point, I'll have them up and at 'em as soon as possible. I'll also come up with some protocol to get y'all access even while they're sick.

Benn: how are you gonna manage that?

Hongo: *shrugs*I'll probably just stick 'em in a hazmat suit or something.

In the Port at the next island

You: *finally feeling better*

Hongo: I'm going to go refill my herb stores, I'll be back before dusk. *kisses you on the forehead, and presents his to you*

You: do I have to? I'm still sure this is how I got sick in the first place.

Hongo: *pulls out a pack of disposable alcohol pads, disinfects his forehead, and presents it again*

You: *sighs, but gives him a peck anyway* Buy more disinfectant while you're out, since y'all have convinced yourselves that I'm magic.

Hongo: *nods and walks down the gangplank to the dock*

Benn: We haven't decided you're magic, you know.

You: Oh really? Because you act like the world will crush you if you leave without me pressing my lips to your forehead.

Benn: It's not like that, it *growls in frustration*... we've noticed a pattern and most of us would rather not risk breaking that pattern. Okay, so suck it up and pucker up *pointing at his forehead and giving you his serious face*

You: *slaps one of the alcohol pads at his face.* Clean your oily forehead of yours first, I ain't gonna kiss it when it's clammy and gross.

Yassop: *laughs* you might need to give him two, since he's got such a big ass head.

Benn: *scoffs* Your forehead is bigger than mine, and where are you going?

Yassop: Deviating from the pattern, later. * steps off the gang plank and falls through the first dock plank he steps on, hitting his balls on the support beam, and gets slapped in the face by the other end of the plank before falling into the ocean*

The Crew present: *groan in sympathy as they protectively cup their own genitals*

Benn: dumbass

You: he doesn't learn, does he?

Shanks: Not quickly, he'll need to hurt himself a few times before it clicks.

You: ....we should make bets

Benn: two thousand on him falling down a flight of stairs next.

Shanks: You're on.

You: that's awful... and wrong, he's gonna get attacked by something in the water, and I'll bet ten thousand on it.

Coming Soon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #one piece imagine #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #red hair shanks #benn beckman #yassop #hongo #hongou one piece #one piece hongo #red hair pirates #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #4/28/23 #no beta we die like men

538 notes · View notes

hemipenal-system · 6 months

Text

aww, what’s the matter? why are you crying?

you’re scared? what of, morsel?

me? why are you scared of me? you asked me to hold you in my mouth until we got somewhere warmer, and my mouth is plenty warm…

don’t worry about me, morsel… i’m your friend, i would never eat you… at least not permanently.

hey, hey, no, don’t worry! i said i wouldn't hurt you and i meant it!

come out? i'm sorry, morsel, i can't let you out yet! it's so cold out here you'd practically freeze to death if i let you out! besides, all that saliva you're soaked with now... it'd just make you colder. i think it's best if i just hold on to you for now.

besides, i think you're enjoying this more than you want to admit to me.

oh, come on. you think i can't feel how you squirm when i curl my tongue along your back? how you grab onto my teeth desperately when i curl it over you and scrape the rough side against your bare legs?

you know, my tongue was designed with a purpose. every part of a creature as beautiful as me is. those hard keratin spikes you enjoy so much? they’re meant to grind against bigger creatures than you, shearing flesh from bone and slathering what’s left in enzyme-loaded saliva that begins to melt you down to bone shadows even before you’re swallowed…

oh, no, not for you. you’re very small, small enough i could swallow you whole. you’d like it more that way, wouldn’t you? alive and conscious for the whole thing?

yes, morsel, i know why you were so eager to climb into my mouth- and i know it’s not fear of heights like you claimed. we may be a mile above the ground with only my wings and internal fire to sustain us, but my blood runs through me everywhere and my claws would have been more than warm enough to keep you safe from the biting cold at this altitude.

don’t worry, this is what you’re supposed to want. you’re from a prey species. sure, we have peace treaties now and you have enough weapons to fend us off now, but for millennia that’s how it went! you ran, you got pinned down, you struggled, and then we tore you limb from limb, reveling in the blood and adrenaline of a meal well hunted…

you don’t have to be embarrassed, morsel! you’re allowed to want me to devour you! i know you find me attractive – in the same way a mouse finds a cat attractive, of course. you’ve always had an affinity for dragons. i’ve seen how you look at the other riders who’re more… open about what they do with their mounts. you can tell me those things, you know.

i told you, i’m not going to let you out! it’s not safe for you at this height or temperature!

yes, obviously i've thought about doing this to you. never seriously, but... enough. humans make wonderful prey... your gentle struggling because you're intelligent enough to trust us and know we won't really hurt you even if we draw a bit of blood... it's very different than tearing the horns off a deer and swallowing it whole, you know.

i've eaten your kind before, you know. i wasn't always so... docile. your nomad convoys made such wonderful buffets: chicken, beef, pork, human – and you always had such wonderful fruits and spices in those little covered wagons of yours! i enjoyed cracking them open like nuts, devouring everything inside.

no, you're not nutritious at all. your meat is really stringy. the terrified shaking and pleading is tantalizing, though...

what do you mean, "what are you doing?" all this talk about food is making me hungry. i'm just savoring your taste is all. you're like one of those hard candies you humans buy from the market to suck on, except warm and salty and savory and-

i could swallow you. it'd be so easy.

no, no, not digest you. stop writhing like that – or continue if you want. it feels nice. i'd just swallow you and hold you in my first stomach for a while. think of it as a warm, damp, dark hug from me. no pain, no flesh itching and melting off, just a gentle squeeze.

hold still, morsel. i need to reposition you a bit is all. that's right, legs like that, arms go that way - yes, exactly! now don't move.

yes, i know it's a bit tight. my prey is a bit more chewed, usually. stop complaining about it or i'll pull you back up and bite you into small pieces so you'll fit better. is that what you want?

there. is that comfortable? i can adjust a bit if you want. hey, no, stop squirming. you're not going to die. that is not stomach acid. if you don't stop panicking i'm going to have to squeeze to hold you still.

i told you. i'm very much stronger than you. stop trying to push out. you're going to sit in there whether you like it or not, morsel.

stop calling you that? why should i? you're literally in my stomach. are you not food, at least for the moment?

don't even tempt me. i am hungry.

just go to sleep or something. we're going to be in the air for a while. if you stop wiggling around in there i'll let you out when i land. i know how soothing it is to be in there. i was a hatchling once too, you know.

i can literally feel you relaxing as my crop massages you. you're yawning. don't even lie to me.

good night, morsel...

#terato #monster fucker #nsft #fantasy nsft #terato blog #monsterfucker #teratophillia #v0re blog #v0re #dragon #safe vore #dragon vore #dragon x human #dragon x reader

279 notes · View notes

siilvan · 7 months

Text

proximate

characters: rodolfo “rudy” parra

summary: an undercover operation goes awry, leaving you and rudy in a tight spot – literally.

prompts: 3. "first one to make a noise loses" & 19. "the choice is yours"

genre: general, fluff, fem!reader (no desc.)

warnings: not proofread (i'll do it later </3), cursing, brief mentions of canon-typical violence, classic stuck-in-a-closet situation 😏, like two spanish words since i'm still a beginner lol

word count: 1.9k

note: RAHHHHHH RUDY MY LOVE‼️‼️🗣️ once again, shoutout to @glitterypirateduck for curating this event!!

also wrote most of this while fighting off sleep so if it's bad, i'm sorry, i have another rudy fic on my WIP list <3

things can't get much worse than this, right?

right?

"a simple mission," he said. "just a quick in-and-out." he said.

you swear, you're going to to kick alejandro with the heels that you're wearing if you come out of this alive.

as you go to round a corner, a few voices make you stop dead in your tracks and tuck yourself back against the wall. it's a small group, no more than four men, and you hold your breath as they stroll right past you without even sparing a glance in your direction.

if there's anything to be thankful for, it's the lack of discipline in the guards. they're all too worried about getting drunk at the party still raging elsewhere than catching the "agent" in attendance.

you let out a soft sigh as you watch them disappear down the corridor, until footsteps quickly approaching from behind make you jump and spin around, preparing to face the would-be attacker.

before you can even turn, though, a pair of gloved hands grab ahold of you, one coming up to cover your mouth as you let out a surprised yelp, and the other pressing you into the wall again. it's an instinct when you fight back, lifting your foot and stomping on theirs, praying that the heel of your shoe is enough to force them to loosen their grip and give you a chance to escape.

the grunt that leaves them – him, you realize – sounds all-too familiar. you hesitate, which gives the man enough time to yank his foot back and lean closer, mumbling something into your ear despite the pain lacing his every word.

"it's me—!" he says through a pained groan. the dots finally connect in your head and you crane your neck to look at him over your shoulder.

the man stares at you through a black balaclava, but his eyes are unmistakable. it's rudy.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, voice slightly muffled against his palm. rudy pulls his hand away and steps back, giving you space to face him properly. you mutter a quick apology upon seeing him stumble a bit, obviously sore from your attack, but he brushes it off with a casual wave of his hand.

"heard about the situation over comms, figured you could use some help." he shrugs as your gaze drops, dragging over the dark suit that sits snugly on his form. "we need to move quickly. the security's scattered right now, but it won't be long until they find the body." he adds, tapping your shoulder gently as he moves past you.

you follow close behind as he starts down the corridor that the group of guards came from earlier. "i'm assuming you mean the guy who's clothes you're wearing – did you not hide him well?"

rudy pauses at another intersection, holding a hand up to signal for you to stop behind him. "didn't have time to. i was more worried about you."

with the way he says the words so casually, you know that it's nothing more than work to him. helping a fellow soldier, assisting you in the field for the sake of the mission, doing his job as the second-in-command. still, you don't miss the way your heart skips a beat at the thought of rudy rushing to your aid for a different, more personal, reason.

after a mumbled "come on," he's continuing down the hallway with you right behind him, the distinct sounds of your heels clacking against the floor with each step and his leather oxfords echoing off the walls.

you nearly slam into his back when rudy suddenly stops in the middle of a hallway, opening your mouth to protest, until you hear aggravated grunts and conversation coming from further down the corridor. before you can react, though, rudy's grabbing your shoulder to guide you as he swings open a nearby door and hastily shoves you inside it.

he slips in with you and lets out a heavy breath as the door softly clicks shut behind him, leaving you in almost total darkness. you press your back to the wall and flinch when the handle of a broom brushes against your spine, making you shuffle forward a bit to get comfortable in the cramped space.

unfortunately, "comfortable" equals standing so close to rudy that you worry about him hearing the rapid beating of your nervous heart.

you're in a small room, some kind of broom closet, with one of your superiors confined and standing just inches away from you. the shadows obscuring your face end up being your saving grace— if he could see the way you're reacting to the close proximity, you'd probably die from sheer embarrassment.

"they were heading our way?" you manage to ask, whispering through the pitch blackness.

you can make out some movement in the shadows akin to a nod. "party guests aren't allowed in this area. it's safer to hide and let them pass by." rudy mutters in reply, shifting. his hand, covered by a dark leather glove, grazes your arm lightly, his touch leaving behind a faint heat that slowly spreads through the rest of your body.

he lifts his arm fully and finds something that you can barely make out: a string, hanging in the air between you two. rudy gives it a single tug and suddenly you're squinting, eyes adjusting to the dim, artificial light that fills the small space from the bulb at the center of the ceiling.

seeing him semi-clearly again is enough to make you stare, eyes greedily drinking up his disguise as he keeps his attention trained on the little bit of space at the bottom of the door. you manage to tear your gaze from him after admiring the way the balaclava clings to his focused expression, clearly outlining strong features that you know will make you melt all over again once the mask is removed.

fleeting shadows obscure the light coming in from the crack, signaling that the group from before is passing by. you remain quiet, practically holding your breath as you watch the last person's silhouette appear and disappear under the door, the group's conversation gradually fading as they continue down the hall without a single alarm raised.

rudy goes to open the door, hand firmly wrapping around the knob, but when he tries to twist it open, you're both a little shocked at it not budging. he twists it again, but to no avail.

"mierda," he whispers harshly, fidgeting with the doorknob. "it's stuck." he adds, shooting a glance in your direction.

you briefly meet his gaze and blink at him, swiftly understanding the implications.

you're alone, very lightly armed, and trapped in a stuffy closet with your second-in-command whilst surrounded by enemies. somehow, things did find a way to get worse.

the two of you fall into a tense silence as you take in the situation: rudy, testing the strength of the door once more, and you, carefully listening for anyone nearby with an ear pressed against the wall. catching a guard's attention isn't ideal, but two or three men shouldn't be too difficult to take out discreetly.

you don't hear anything for what feels like ages. no footsteps, no voices, not even a peep from your ally. with a frustrated huff, you pull back from the wall and settle for staring into the minimal space between you and rudy.

at some point, he pulls off the mask, allowing you to drag your gaze up to his uncovered face. you can see thoughts swimming behind his dark irises, plans being formed off the cuff, preparation for any and every possible outcome. if rudy's anything, it's meticulous and levelheaded, even in a bad situation. he's everything a leader should be, and you commend him for it.

the silence lingers heavy in the air, settling like an uncomfortable weight on your shoulders. you swallow down the lump in your throat awkwardly, wracking your brain for an excuse to break it.

"first one to make a noise loses," you mumble, sending him a cursory glance.

rudy chuckles softly, his shoulders drooping slightly. he meets your gaze and seems to relax, lips twitching into a small smile. "i think you lost when you said that."

you roll your eyes half-heartedly. "that doesn't count." you lean in, mirroring his smile. "you lost by responding, though."

he concedes, lifting his hands in a mock surrender. "you got me, i guess you're the winner." he says, before letting his hands fall to his sides once more.

you're left staring at each other again. the tension dissipates with those few words, however, and you let yourself bask in the warmth of his gaze. it isn't special, you know that rudy looks at all of his allies with the same warmth, but a part of you clings to the hope that his affection is reserved for you. it's silly – juvenile, even – to think of your teammate like this. what you have is just a schoolgirl crush, feelings that he'd never reciprocate—

"you look beautiful," he utters, nearly inaudible despite the lack of other sounds. "i, uh... wanted to tell you that before the mission."

did you hear that correctly?

you keen under his praise, muttering an equally soft "thank you" before mentally kicking yourself for the awkward response and opening your mouth to speak again. "you look handsome. maybe you should've been on this mission instead." you add with a laugh.

"you were handling yourself just fine." rudy says, eyes narrowing when you shake your head.

"there's a reason why you had to step in. besides—"

"—besides, why would i miss out on this view?" he asks. you stop short, jaw practically going slack. again, did you hear that correctly?

you blink at him, dumbfounded. "that's bold."

another mental kick makes you flinch at your own reply.

gloved hands wrap around your own, guiding your hands to sit between yours and rudy's bodies. he squeezes them gently, a comforting gesture that sends a shiver coursing down your spine.

"maybe this isn't the best place to say this," he starts, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "and, maybe that's exactly why i finally can say this, but... i've always thought that you're beautiful." he continues, voice dropping from a quiet timbre to a whisper.

"i want to be more than just teammates, if you'll have me." he quickly says, his grip tightening as his eyes search yours for an answer.

"rudy..." you trail off, before he speaks – again.

"the choice is yours. i'll respect your decision, no matter what it is."

if you didn't know better, you'd tell yourself that you're dreaming. it's not an ideal confession, not in the slightest, but there's something about it that's so very him. your chest tightens in the best way as you slide your hands from his, fingertips dancing up his arms until you cup his cheeks and bridge that final gap.

the kiss that follows is chaste and saccharine sweet. strong arms circle around your waist, drawing your body closer to his, grounding you in the moment as you threaten to slip away in the pure bliss of it.

after a few moments, you manage to pull back enough to give a verbal answer. "if we get out of here, then it's a date."

rudy chuckles, warm breath fanning against your lips. "keep your weekend open, cariño."

#fall4rudy #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #rudy x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #cod rudy #rodolfo parra #rodolfo rudy parra #sylph.writes

211 notes · View notes