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supernaturalgirl20 · 2 years

Note

Hello Friend, I’m back with idea for another Frankie story.

Dating Frankie is a dream isn’t it? But what if he do not want us, his gorgeous chubby girl, introduces to his friends? Little bit angst ✨

Us thinking he is ashamed of us and he thinking that if she met them she would fall for them instead of him because he still do not understand how she can date him, even they are not too deep in their relationship. Santiago is the one who has successful business, Benny is great fighter and Will is the most handsome fit guy and charming as a bonus. But we want to meet people who are important to Frankie because we wanted the relationship to work not to flirt with his friends. Maybe a little for fun but never to hurt our bby Frankie.

In the end they both find out they are idiots in love.

✨✨✨

Am I happy to follow up on Frankie and his girl? Yes 🙌 thank you nonnie 🥰 sorry this took so long hope you enjoy ☺️

Insecurities

Part 2 to Want to get outta here?

Pairings: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, PinV sex, fingering, insecurities, angst, Frankie being a dick, cursing, fluff.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

That night at the bar had changed everything. You’d met the love of your life, it that he knows that yet - you have been too afraid to say anything. He had told you about all his past relationships - about how they nearly all cheated on him, leaving him broken-hearted. You wouldn’t do that.

Frankie kept his word after that night and brought you on your first date the following weekend - dinner at his favourite restaurant in town, followed by a night of amazing sex. God that man worshipped you. You’ve never known pleasure like it. It didn’t matter that you had thicker thighs than most girls or you had belly rolls - that man fucking loved it. Frankie made you feel like you were the prettiest girl around. Life was great.

This weekend was gonna be your six-month anniversary and you wanted to organise something to celebrate. A BBQ at Frankie’s place would be perfect, it would also double up as you meeting his friends for the first time - something you had been pushing for, for quite some time.

When you first broached the subject, Frankie had stiffened below you and gave you some shitty excuse about them being super busy; one you didn’t believe. Haven got their numbers from his phone last week, you proceeded to text them - inviting them over this Saturday - and they all got back with a resounding, yes. You just hoped this didn’t backfire.

***

Giving everything a once over, a knock on Frankie’s front door startles you. You take a deep breath trying to quell the nerves that racked through you. Your hand slowly reaches for the handle and when you open the door, you're pulled into a tight hug.

“Well look at you beautiful, where the fuck has Fish been hiding you?”

“Jesus Benny, will you put her down? Hi, I’m Will and this shithead is my baby brother Benny.” Once Benny puts you down you proceed to shake Will’s hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” you say as you close the door behind them. “Santi should be here soon, he just finished up work.”

“Perfect. I hope Frankie doesn’t mind that I organised all this, it’s our six-month anniversary and I wanted to meet you guys.” Benny fishes around the fridge for beer and Will makes his way outside to help set up the BBQ. “We’ve been asking a fish to meet you for ages but it’s always ‘yeah soon’ shit like that.”

Your doubts and insecurities begin to seep into your bones again. What if doesn’t want you to meet his friends? What if he’s embarrassed by you? What if he doesn’t think your relationship is as serious as you? Benny hands you a beer and you quickly shake those thoughts from your head.

“Want me to start up the grill?” Will asks as he takes a slug of his beer. “Oh, yeah that would be great actually. Thank you.”

“No problem.” The sound of a car pulling up catches everyone’s attention and Benny's face breaks out into a huge smile. “That would be Santi, I’ll let him in.” Oh! The nerves were back. This was Frankie’s best friend. What if he didn’t like you?

The sound of laughter filters through the hall and you find yourself looking for something to do so you head out back to join Will. He’s nice. Easy to talk to and he proceeds to ask how you like your steak when the sound of Benny’s loud voice breaks the conversation.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” Santi pulls Will into a hug before pulling back and locking eyes with you. “This beautiful creature must be Y/N. Frankie has told me so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you,” he says, pulling you into a hug. “He loves you, you know.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you say as your cheeks heat. “No, trust me, he does. I’ve never seen him this happy.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Everyone turns to the patio door where Frankie now stands. His face is blank, eyes cold but anger seeps off him in waves. He’s pissed.

“I invited the guys over, I hope you don’t mind, I just wanted to…” you stop when Frankie closes his eyes, pinching the bright of his nose as he lets out a huff of frustration. Santi, feeling the tension walks over to Frankie and claps him in the back, “come on Fish, Will has the food almost cooked. Grab a beer and take a seat.”

Frankie nods and heads inside to grab a beer before coming back outside and taking a seat. His eyes avoid you the entire time and he takes a seat beside Santi, leaving you to sit beside Benny.

“Grubs up.”

***

A worrisome feeling settles in your stomach as everyone sits and eats. The guys are all lovely and they include you in conversation as much as possible but Frankie still hasn’t looked at you. He’s never behaved like this with you and you feel nauseous at the thought that you’ve done something wrong.

Shuffling out of your seat, you offer to grab more beers and quickly make your way inside releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You take the beers out of the fridge and a deep voice startles you. “What the hell is going on? Why did you invite them here?”

“It’s our six-month anniversary and I just thought it would be nice to meet your friends, I….”

“Don’t you think if I wanted you to meet them, I would have done it already? How did you even get their numbers?” His words cut you like a knife and the way he’s looking at you - like you’ve broken his trust somehow, he might as well grab the knife and twist it in your gut.

“I got them from your phone last weekend when you were making dinner. Frankie, I didn’t think it…” He laughs then, but it’s not his usual warm hearty laugh. It’s almost sinister.

“That’s the problem isn’t it, you didn’t think. What, you thought you could bring my friends over and wear a skimpy dress like that and maybe get their attention? Is that it?”

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest. This isn’t the Frankie you know and love. He would never speak to you like this. “What? No! Frankie, I would never…”

“Save it. If you want to fuck one of them, go ahead. I saw you flirtin’ with Pope when I walked in, maybe he can fuck you just how you like.” He had started moving toward you now and you hadn’t realised he had backed you into the corner of the counter.

You try to calm him, moving your hand out to gently touch his chest but he grabs your wrist stopping you. “You're just like the others. Use me until something better comes along.”

“Frankie, I love you. I don’t want anyone else.” You try to convey all your emotions through the warmth on your face but his eyes are glazed over with anger. He isn’t listening to reason tonight.

“Hey man, that’s enough! Y/N only wanted to meet us and she wasn’t flirting with me. She had eyes for you.” Frankie turns around with a snarl on his face and points his finger at Santi. “You always want what you can’t have, Pope. It was the same with Sophia back in high school.”

You can’t take any more of this as the tears begin to spill down your cheeks. You move out of the kitchen while Frankie is distracted and grab your coat and bag and leave. He won’t even notice I’m gone.

“Fuck Fish that was years ago and technically she was mine first. I wasn’t after Y/N, and even if I was, she loves you, man. Lord knows why if this is how you behave around her, but she’s not like the others. She’s besotted by you and the only one you can’t see is you.”

“Guys!” Frankie and Santi continue to argue until Benny shouts louder. “Guys!”

“What?” They both say in unison. “She’s gone.”

“Fuck! What have I done?”

***

You’d taken your car and driven out to the lake, to the spot where Frankie had taken you one time on a date. You just needed to clear your head.

He’s never been like this before. You knew about his past. About all his exes and about his time in the army. About his cocaine usage. None of it mattered. Not until now at least. Did he not trust you?

Tears run down your cheeks as a sob escapes your throat. The moon is high in the sky tonight and it shines off the water. It’s beautiful.

“You’re beautiful.” You gasp as Frankie’s deep voice startles you. When the fuck did he get here? You turn away from him, eyes fixed on the water. He’d hurt you and you couldn’t look at him right now.

He slowly approaches and sits down on the grass beside you. You can feel his gaze burning a hole into the side of your face but you refuse to look at him. “I’m sorry baby. I…didn't mean anything I said back there…I-I just…fuck. I just came home and I saw you talking to Pope and you were laughing and I just…I saw all my exes and how they all cheated and I saw red.”

“You don’t trust me, Frankie. I don’t think you ever have and this won’t work if we don’t have trust.” Panic sets in and Frankie moves closer, his hand grazing the skin on your thigh. “Baby please…I-I don’t deserve you. That’s the truth. You are too good for me and I’m scared you’re gonna wake up one day and realise that.”

Taking a deep breath you turn your head towards him and you can see the sadness in his eyes as they look about towards the water. “Is that why you never wanted me to meet the guys?”

“I thought that if you met them that you would see what a fuck up I am and leave me. Any of them is a better catch than me.” You're still hurt and you don’t think it’s going to be this easy to get over but you love him so much and he has deep insecurities.

Reaching your hand out you cup his cheek and turn his face towards you. “Frankie, I love you. I don’t know how to make it any clearer, you’re it for me. I want to marry you and buy a bigger house somewhere and have babies. I know those other girls made you like you were good enough and that they broke your heart. But Frankie you’re enough.”

His lips crash onto yours and his hands wrap around your waist pulling you close. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your lips. “I’m sorry….I’m sorry,” his lips trail along your cheek and down your neck. “I love you, baby. So fucking much and if you can forgive me for being a dick, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“The rest of your life Huh?” He nods his head and pulls you in for another kiss. “What you said hurt Frankie but I do love you so I’m willing to keep trying.”

“That’s more than I deserve. Now baby, let’s go home and I’ll introduce you to the guys properly.”

***

Frankie didn’t let you out of his sight the rest of the night as you laughed at the stories the guys told of Frankie on the base. His cheeks were tinged pink as they embarrassed him but you reached out and grabbed his hand squeezing tight in reassurance.

He tugged on your arm and pulled you into his lap, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You wiggled your ass in his lap trying to get comfortable and are shocked when he moans loudly into your skin. “Baby, you gotta stop moving that fine ass over my cock or I’ll take you here and now.”

Heat began to form in your stomach as he gripped your hips tight. His fingers slide up under your dress towards your clothed cunt and he moans again at the feel of your wetness. “Fuck baby you’re so wet. This for me?”

You nod your head unable to speak and his fingers push your panties aside and slip inside your aching heat. Biting your lip - trying hard to keep quiet as he works you with his fingers.

“Good girl. Don’t want the guys to know what we’re doing now do we?” Your eyes flicker around the table and you're thankful the guys seem to be deep in conversation that they don’t notice. “Gonna make you come on my fingers then I’m gonna take you inside and fuck you good.”

His fingers work in and out of your cunt curling slightly as his thumb rubs your bundle of nerves. A tingle works its way up your spine and your heart beats faster and faster the closer you come to your release.

Your hand grins the arm of the chair tight and you struggle to keep your eyes open as you feel the beginnings of your climax. You want to scream. Scream his name so fucking loud but you can’t and oh fuck…

Your body shudders in his lap as you come hard. Your vision, blurring as pleasure courses through you. “Good girl.” His fingers slip out of you and he brings them to his lips sucking your juices off them.

Standing, you excuse yourself and make your way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. His hands wrapped around your waist startle you and you can feel his hard cock against your ass.

“That was so fucking hot baby. Wanna fuck you now though. Will you let me? Will you let me fuck right here where the guys could walk in any moment and catch us?”

“Yes! Fuck Frankie please…” You can feel his grin against the skin of your neck as he bites into it. “Please what baby?”

“Fuck me.” He quickly undoes his belt and pulls his trousers and boxers down bunching at his knees as he rips your panties off. “Hey! Those were my favourite.”

“I’ll buy you a new pair.” He runs the tip of his cock along your slit coating it in your juices before lining up and thrusting inside you. You both moan as he fills you. There’s a slight burn from the stretch but he gives you a minute to adjust.

You move your ass back against him, urging him to move. His hands grip your hips as he thrusts up into you. His cock moving in and out of your tight heat, the sounds of your joint moans and the squelch of your cunt the only sound you hear.

“Fuck mi amor…never gonna get used to how tight you are. So fucking good…” His hand snakes around to your clit and he begins to rub circles as you feel that heat radiating through you. “Oh fuck Frankie…”

“That’s it, baby…come for me…Mierda…need you to come…I’m not gonna last…” His movements on your clit become more frantic and with a cry of his name you come around him. The feeling of your cunt pulsating around him sends him over the edge as he spills inside you. The thought of you becoming round with his child sends him into a frenzy.

His head rests between your shoulders as you both calm your breathing. “That was amazing.”

“Is it safe to come in now? I need to use the toilet.” The sound of Benny’s voice has you both pulling away quickly and dressing. “You can come in now.” Benny walks in with a huge smirk on his face. “Your fly is undone Fish.” He says as he moves towards the bathroom. Frankie looks down quickly realising he was taking the piss.

“Idiota.”

***

If any of the others heard, they didn’t say anything and the rest of the night passed quickly. “Alright man, time we head on out. Y/N it was lovely to finally meet you. Fish you got a good one.”

“I know.” He says as he pulls you into his side, his hand resting on your hip. When everyone is gone and you’ve both tidied up a bit you make your way to bed. Frankie pulls you into his side, his fingers running along your bare back as he stares up at the ceiling.

“What ya thinking about?” You say as you play with the hair on his chest. “Hmm?”

“You look lost in thought.” He turns on his side so he faces you, his hand resting over you. “Move in with me?”

“What?” You dart your eyes between his looking for something but all you see is sincerity. “I want you to move in with me. Hell, I’d ask you to marry me if I thought you’d say yes. I wanna spend my life with you and I love waking up in the mornings to have you cuddled into my side.”

Ok. Yeah I’ll move in with you. Also if you were to ask me to marry you someday, I’d say yes.” He kisses you softly before resting his head against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @deliriosinrose @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @sirpascal @manuymesut

Frankie Morales: @paulalikestuff @vanemando15 @hb8301 @djarinslove @browneyes-issac @agingerindenial @afootnoteinyourhappiness @almaeunice @readsalot73 @marielovesstuff @a3trogirl @loonymagizoologist

#pedro pascal #frankie morales x female reader #pedro pascal x reader #frankie x reader #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #triple frontier x reader

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punchingtelescopes2 · 1 year

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I Can't Wait

Word Count: 1,324

Summary: You NEVER interrupt someone when they are reading a book.

Warning: Just two people disgustingly in love. And Fred's poorly mentioning Pablo Neruda's love poem 14.

“I’ve been thinking”, said George, “We should sell the whizbangs as a bundle instead of individually you know because...” “Mmmhmmm”, Fred interrupted absentmindedly, “Yup”.

George took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. Fred had been quiet, thoughtful and moody the past couple of days and George was tired of it. “So listen,” George said clearing his throat, “I’ve been thinking about dying my hair blue, that outta help the customers tell us part.” “Sure. Wait what?!” Fred furrowed his brows at his brother. “Aaah!!” George said pointing an accusatory finger at Fred, “So you only listen when you want to.” Fred, huffed and mumbled a string of curse words at George. “You know if I’d heard anything you just said I’d be offended but I didn’t so I’m not,” George said with a triumphant smile. Fred rolled his eyes giving him a small smile. “You’ve been in a foul mood since Sunday night. It is now Wednesday mate and frankly you are starting to get a bit annoying.” Fred glared at his brother but George ignored him and continued. “Out with it, what’s troubling you?” “It’s Hermione mate,” Fred sighed. George snickered as he wiggled his brows, “Trouble in paradise Freddie?”

“I asked her out about a week ago,” Fred sighed, rubbing his hands on his face. “And?” George said impatiently. “Well when I tried to finalize plans for our date last Sunday after dinner at the burrow, she looked at me annoyed and sighed ‘What about Friday?’ ”George looked at him, fighting a smile, “Is that what you were doing while she was reading under the tree?” “Yeah,” said Fred, hurt and confusion on his face. George was soon howling with laughter which made Fred scowl. “You are telling me that,” George choked through his laughs, “YOU asked Hermione Bookworm Granger a question while she was reading?” “Yes,” Fred said with uncertainty. George laughed harder, making himself fall off the desk he was sitting on.

Fred laughed in annoyance,”I don’t find this funny at all Georgie, '' he said, hoping his brother's childhood nickname would make him stop, “I think she's mad at me.” “Okay, okay. Look here you idiot,” George said, pushing himself off the ground, “I’ve got a few things to say, ONE!” he shouted, “Hermione is not mad at you. She, for some unknown reason, loves you just as much as you love her.” Fred looked at his brother with worry on his face, “I don’t know.” “AND!!” George shouted ignoring his brother, “Everyone, in both Wizarding and Muggle worlds, knows you don’t interrupt a bookworm when they are reading.”

“Is that really a thing?” Fred asked unsure. George rolled his eyes and ignored him, “TWO!!” he said loudly as he grabbing a roll of parchment form his desk, “You don’t, *whack* talk *whack* to a bookworm *whack whack* when they are *whack whack whack* nose deep in a *whack whack whack* book. *whack whack whack whack* “Ouch,” Fred snapped, “Okay, I get it.” “THREE!!” George shouted as he whacked Fred with the roll of parchment again. “Ouch! Quit it!” Fred yelped, “Or Merlin help me I will hex you.”

“Three,” said George softly, “When was the last time you talked to Granger Fred?” “Uh, not since Sunday,” Fred said quietly. “Exactly, you won’t know what she was thinking Sunday if you don’t talk to her. It’s called communication Freddie, it’s an important part in every relationship. Now stop being a baby and owl the woman. Remind her of your date and then actually talk to the woman, in person. Sort this out” George said matter of factly.

Fred shot out of his chair suddenly, “George you’re a genius!” Fred said, putting his hands on the side of his brother's head and bringing him close to give his forehead a loud noisy kiss.” “Oh God,” George wiped his forehead. An annoyed look on his face, “I better be the godfather to your first born.”

____________________________ (The Burrow)

“I feel so bad Gin,” Hermione groaned as she covered her face with the book she’d been trying to read. “Why?,” Ginny said absentmindedly as she sat on the floor. Her back was against her bed as she tossed a quaffle against the wall.

“Well I’d completely forgotten I had a date with Fred this Friday. And at Sunday dinner, when he reminded me about our date I’d completely forgotten about it,” Hermione gasped, “I think he’s mad at me.” Ginny snorted and both girls burst into giggles. “Ginny it’s not funny,” Hermione’s giggles had turned into a desperate whine. “I was in the middle of my book,” she said, “He caught me off guard! I never forget things. It was a really good book.” Ginny laughed harder, “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“Ginny!,” groaned Hermione. “He’ll be fine. I ignore Fred and George all the time and they still talk to me,” she said dismissively. “Listen, don’t worry,” Ginny said, “You. Are. Good.” “Ginny his face,” Hermione said holding back a sob, “you should have seen Fred’s face.” Hermione grabbed her chest with a pained expression, “He looked so embarrassed and hurt. Probably thought I didn’t love him anymore.” She turned to Ginny, worry etched on her face.

“Again, I ignore them all the time,” Ginny said nonchalantly. “Yeah but you’re their sister Gin.” Hermione said, covering her face again.

“Look it’s gonna be fine, 100% sure he’s not mad or hurt by this. I am sure the idiot realized he was interrupting you as you read your book,” Ginny finished with a shrug. “Listen, it’s just Fred, he's not mad or upset with you. I’m sure of it. But if it makes you feel better just make it up to him.” “Make it up to him how?,” Hermione asked. “Well,” said Ginny thoughtfully, “You could always kiss him. That shuts him up.”

Hermione was about to shush Ginny when she interrupted my obnoxious hooting. “Is that...does Apollo have a howler attached to him?,” Hermione said as she looked at the tawny owl in confusion. “I believe he does,” Ginny said looking curiously at Hermione, “It’s probably a mistake,” she said walking closer to Apollo.

“Oooh,” Ginny covered her mouth with her hands as fought the urge to laugh. “What is it?” Hermione asked. “Hermione it’s for you.” “ME?!,” Hermione squealed loudly. “Yup!,” Ginny giggled . “Don’t laugh,” Hermione chuckled nervously. Ginny giggled, “You’re right, I’m sorry. I wonder who it’s from,” Hermione shrugged. Ginny smiled, “Well, it’s starting to smoke so I guess we will soon find out.”

Hermione took a deep breath and nervously opened the shaking red letter.

“GRANGER!'' Fred's voice filled the room. “WAIT GEORGE SHOULD I USE HER FULL NAME!?” "YES STUPID!!,” George bellowed back, “IT MAKES IT MORE ROMANTIC!.” “OH YOU’RE A GENIUS!,” Fred shouted back. “HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER! I AM VERY MUCH LOOKING FORWARD TO OUR DATE THIS FRIDAY!! I WILL BRING YOU HAPPY FLOWERS FROM THE MOUNTAINS, BLUEBELLS, DARK HAZELS, AND RUSTIC BASKETS OF KISSES AND ANYTHING ELSE I CAN POSSIBLY FIND TO MAKE SURE YOU HAVE AN INCREDIBLE TIME FRIDAY NIGHT. I AM GOING TO STOP NOW BECAUSE I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I'M SAYING ANYMORE OR WHAT THAT MEANS, BUT I KNOW YOU LOVE THAT NERUDA BLOKE AND I THOUGHT THAT BIT FROM ONE OF HIS POEMS FLOWED NICELY IN THIS LETTER. ANYWAY I LOVE YOU GRANGER. ALWAYS. MMMMUUAAAHH!

The letter tore itself up leaving behind a deafening silence.

“What the bloody hell was that?!” Ginny whispered mystified. Her voice sounded loud in the still quiet room. Hermione and Ginny looked at each other and burst into a fit of laughter. “That was Fred!,” Hermione said, wiping tears from her eyes. Ginny smiled as she rolled her eyes. “Still having doubts as to whether or not Fred is mad at you?”, she asked with one raised eyebrow. “No,” Hermione sighed, smiling dreamily out the window, “No doubts at all.”

#fred wealsey fic #fredlives #fred x hermione #fremione #fred weasley #hermione x fred #hermione fanfiction #fluff #so much fluff #idiots in love #soulmates #fred lives #au #punching telescopes 2 writes #ginny weasley #george weasley

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lolly-dolli · 10 months

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I was a little four-year-old kid in my dad's old car with the crank-windows and no AC, on my way back from one grandma's house to the other during the summer that we were between houses and he'd play Bat Outta Hell || and the "Wasted Youth" monologue would come on about halfway through and it used to scare the shit out of me but I'd just sit there, like, enthralled by some emotion I didn't know yet.

But as an adult in my mid twenties I can listen to people making guitars sound like motorcycles ripping through Hell or human screams or Miku or any number of things that sound almost supernatural when juxtaposed against the instrument that produced them and I just Get It.

And I'm baking a cake here, not quite seven-into-July, far too hot for my liking and sweet flinging off me as I dance around the kitchen to "Everything Louder than Everything Else," and "I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)" and all the other songs on the album I knew the melodies to but not the names for until a few years back. My father's cropped his hair short for the past ten or so years and mine, up in a bun because lord knows my I'm sticky with sweat as it is, falls past where his used to if it's let loose. My stepmother stops by with her friend to paint the walls upstairs eggshell-white and I regret not taking him up on his offer to put the AC into the living room (the sills are still not-yet-eggshell cream and need sanding) and in two weeks' time I'll be at my grandmother's, a half-summer this time, spent searching for jobs and making the room my parents stayed in my-own-for-a-bit between houses and learning Fusion 360 instead of petting bees and gorging on wild raspberries but still spinning around in flowery dresses to Meatloaf until I get dizzy when I find the time.

My father can't speak so clearly sometimes anymore - the stroke last year took part of his speech and he's still relearning words that aren't curses, but his hands are sketching again and his paintings will decorate my room when I leave and he still sings "Everything Louder than Everything Else" just as clear as ever (slightly slurred where he forgets the words, just like we all do) and despite the fear I'm moving forward and we're both still alive and I can listen to Meatloaf and tear up at the fact that I'm twenty-six when I couldn't see past twenty-five or twenty-two or next month five years and four years and ten-months-ago when the stroke happened.

Despite it all I feel more like myself than I have in maybe seventeen years, late-youth lost to the too-much-lexapro I shouldn't have been prescribed and wasted in bed. Slowly, surely, I'm waking up to the magic of guitar shreds that sound like hellfire in the best way and carrot cake when it's too hot to move and lost-boy-summers at my grandma's and the world being full of light I haven't seen since four-or-five-or-six.

Life isn't perfect, but I'm still alive to see it, and I'm thankful to live in a world where I can Feel music.

#lolly's writing #poetry #(i guess)#you ever listen to childhood music and weep at its sound after a long time in the dark? you should try it it's a good feeling #writing #my art #this started as a shitpost in my head but I Felt Too Hard so there ya go #more a feeling and strewam of consciousness than anything but it Felt Good. i'm gonna go frost thwt cake it's probably cool by now

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figsandfandoms · 1 year

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✨2022 Writing Year In Review✨

I was tagged by @lassiesspanishaccent so here goes!

1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 25!! Holy Hannah. That’s a bit skewed by the fact that I participated in Flufftober this year.

2. Word count posted for the year: 62,626

3. Fandoms I wrote for: Psych and SG-1

4. Pairings: I was quite the multi-shipper this year lol

Juliet/Shawn (Psych)

Daniel/Vala (SG-1)

Gus/Selene (Psych)

Carlton/Marlowe (Psych)

Carlton/Shawn (Psych)

Shawn/Gus (Psych)

5. Story with the most:

Kudos: “One night in the chief’s office” (225 Kudos)

Bookmarks: “One night in the chief’s office” 49 Bookmarks)

Comments: “You've got comments “ (56 Comment Threads)

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why):

I think I answered this question in another AO3 round up or review, so hopefully I answer it the same this time haha.

But I think I’m most proud of two works: How many one-night stands equals a relationship? and One night in the chief’s office.

For How many one-night stands equals a relationship?, I’d say I’m proud of the poetry of it.

For One night in the chief’s office, it was my first major M/M smut, and I’m proud of how it turned out, and proud of myself for pushing through with it.

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why):

I honestly don’t know. This has given me the opportunity to read over some of the fics that don’t get a lot of attention, but I’m still proud of them and proud that I wrote them.

Do I think that the writing could have been better, that maybe I could have spell-checked a little more? Sure. But I wrote something and created something. So, I’m proud of them.

8. Share or describe a favourite review you received:

Oh gosh. Like Swattie said, I love each and every comment I’ve received. I don’t think I’ve deleted any of them from my inbox! (side note, does the AO3 inbox have a limit???).

That being said…

The ones that really stick out are the times when people have told me I’ve written the characters ‘in character’. The characters I wrote for are an eclectic bunch, and getting their tone and style of speaking down pat can be hard. So I love it when people tell me that I write them in characters.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Hmm… I’d say maybe the beginning of 2022, when I got such a horrible round of migraines. At least two a week for about a month or so. Back then, opening my eyes was hard, let alone writing a fic.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

Writing for Cam in Cameron Mitchell's Diary was kind of surprising. The idea for the story came outta nowhere, and I hadn’t really thought of writing from Cam’s perspective.

11. A favourite excerpt of your writing:

I’m gonna cheat and pick two:

From ‘How many one-night stands’

He nods, and they kiss and hug and touch and undress each other and try to make each other feel good because they know this feeling won’t last long. He pours kindness and caring into every clash of teeth and tongue, telling her without words that it’ll be okay, that she’ll be okay.

I hit the poetry hard with this story, but this is my favourite line.

From ‘You’ve got comments’

Shawn thought for approximately 8.5 seconds before he enacted his plan. It was twice as long as he normally spent looking before leaping, so he gave himself a literal pat on the back before starting.

That line makes me giggle.

12. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I took more risks this year, and my writing has improved.

13. How do you hope to grow next year:

By doing what I did last year- keep trying new things and seeing what happens.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

The Santa Barbara After Dark discord! Swattie, Birdy, Noz, Avotah, Aut… You all are so amazing!

I’ll also be sappy and say my husband is my biggest cheerleader. He cheers me on and takes over household chores so I can write. He’s my best friend and I love him. Love you babe!

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Chapter four of Flufftober- Psych stories was partly inspired by my husband and the way he supports my powerlifting.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

New wisdom? I don’t think it’s ‘new’, but I would say ‘don’t be afraid to write something different’. you never know what might happen.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

I’ve got a couple of WIPs that are almost finished that I’m looking forward to getting over the line.

Other than that, I’ve got a couple of ideas that I’d like to get started on, as well as an original work.

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

@emachinescat @missmultifandommessdom @r1ver-6r-6

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head-empty-only-sunshine · 2 years

Text

Built 4 Love

Ch. 4 - From Friends...

A/N: Listen. Get your head out of the gutter. That's MY gutter. I live there >w> dw I thought the same thing when I wrote it lmaoooo. You'll see.

Description: You're up late again. Moon is not a fan of you constantly puling all nighters, so he has a tactic to make you listen and tire you out. Tickling you to the brink of death should do the trick.

Pairing: Sun/Moon X Reader

Word Count: 2252

Chapters: [Index] [Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3] [Ch.4] [Ch.5] [Ch.6] [Ch.7]

Getting real close and comfy with an animatronic would be strange in any other circumstance but yours. Being as close and as buddy buddy as you were with Sun and Moon, meant you knew exactly how to get on their nerves. Sometimes it was an accident, sometimes it was on purpose; but most times when it was on purpose it was because you loved being the bane of Moon’s existence.

Sun was sweet. Too sweet. You’d knock things over sometimes by accident or steal his glitter glue when you were on a break, but with Moon, every bit of your time was spent making sure he would be in a living hell of annoyance. He wasn’t scary to you, and you knew damn well he wouldn’t ever try to hurt you, so getting on every last nerve he had programmed into him was a favourite pastime of yours. This particular time though, you didn’t mean to irritate him. You were quite literally just doing your job, but threw in a little bit of attitude here and there.

At first you were alone, cramped up in the server room again with your eyes glued to your laptop. Realistically you could do your work anywhere, as you were just coding protocols for some new bots they were adding to one of the arcades. The office was just cleaner, and provided the best atmosphere for you to get your work done in. The whirring of the massive towers that kept the network and all other things up and running was calming to you, and let’s face it; the hidden mini fridge of Fizzy Faz energy drinks was a huge driving factor too. It was your private little work den where all things could not disturb you… that is until it was well past midnight and Moon had made his way into the server room.

“What are you doing up so late, hmmm?” Moon questioned as he slunk into the room.

You were startled by his presence, going rigid for a moment as you caught your breath.

“I think a better question is how the hell did you bypass the permissions to get in here?” You shot back with a puff of air.

“You left the door open, bozo.”

“... Ah. You are correct. Nevermind then.” You nodded shamefully as you turned back to your work.

“Woah woah woah, you don’t just get to dismiss me after I’ve come all the way here!” Moon complained, crouching down next to you. “To think you would be honoured by me visiting while on patrol. Hmph.”

“Oh Moony… Getting soft again?” You snickered.

“Don’t like it? I can be mean if you’d like.” He grinned. “I can be real mean. Especially since you’re up so late.”

“You can be mean, but you won’t get very far. I still have a lot of work to get done and I will not hesitate to kick your ass outta here.” You shot back.

“Tsk. Work. How much of this ‘work’ do you have to get done?”

“Well… I’m coding a new AI for several bots right now. For the arcade. West… I think?” You replied with a very obvious exhausted slur to your tone.

“Mhmm. You sound dead tired, starlight. For once, listen to me and go get some sleep. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” Moon argued.

“Ah, so you do care~” You hummed. “I can’t stop though. I have deadlines to meet and even more tasks coming up.”

“When is this deadline you speak of?”

“Uhh… Next week I think.” You answered.

Moon took your answer and sat in thought for a moment. He inspected the progress on your laptop, then looked back over at you. The eyebags you had were insane; worse than that day you spent pulling an all nighter to prevent hack attacks. You struggled to keep your eyes open at this point, and looked like a living corpse honestly. Sleep wasn’t a mere suggestion anymore: it was a requirement.

“You’ll make the deadline just fine. Shut up and come back to rest.” Moon said a lot more firmly.

“Ahah, no. I’m in work mode. As long as I have the will to go I must keep going.” You sighed, looking back at your laptop.

Moon was not having your shit tonight. No was not an answer he would take from you this time. While crouched next to you he reached a long arm over and easily shut your laptop closed right before you could even get your fingers back on the keyboard. This elicited a sound from you he never thought he’d hear: a deep, frustrated growl. It amused him while you slowly turned your head towards him with narrowed eyes, staring daggers into his processor.

“You. Are so fucking lucky that program auto saves. If I lose one single line of code because of you I’m gonna beat your ass with the pillows in the daycare. Maybe I’ll even shove glitter glue where no sun will ever shine” You growled, clutching the arm of the swivel chair a little too tight.

“Language~” Moon teased, unfazed by your anger at this moment. “How about you just do as I say and come to rest? You’re visibly tired. C’mon, sleep~.”

“Two things, my celestial friend. One, I’m not tired. Two, fucking make me.” You challenged.

“Hah, well if you insist.”

“What the fuck are you doing? H-hey! Hey wait n-no that’s not fair! Nohoho!”

You didn’t really know what to expect, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. Moon took it upon himself to put his nails to use and start poking at your sides, forcing tired giggles from you. No matter which way you turned the chair, his arms were long enough to keep reaching you, and it wasn’t long before your squirming self was on the floor. You slipped out of the chair by accident while trying to evade his attacks, the force pushing it away from you and earning a yelp from your mouth as you plopped down on the cold tile. Moon found this advantageous, and took his chance to pin you.

“W-wait wait wait! Reconsider please! ReconsiDER! AHAHA FUCK OHOHOFF!” You laughed loudly, trapped beneath him with no way out.

“No, I will not reconsider. You say you’re not tired? You will be soon.” He said menacingly, scribbling his digits over your sides and ribs without mercy.

There was no point in fighting. He was tough, and heavy, so pushing him away was nearly impossible. The manner in which he dug his nails into your shockingly ticklish sides had you fully disarmed, gasping for breaths between your laughter. Just when you thought you couldn’t last another second under his assault he lifted his hands… and then you heard it. A buzzing sound.

“Moon... Moon NO!” You tried to persuade, struggling to get out from underneath him.

“Aw, scared of the tickle monster~?” He teased, lowering his hands again. “Have I finally terrified you for once?”

“Yes! Very scary indeed! Don’t you fucking d- AH! N-NOHOHO! STAHAHAP!”

The buzzing was a feature you never knew about. When they got it installed, you had no clue. All you knew is that you couldn’t stop laughing, the buzzing belonging to a vibration feature in his fingertips. Without even giving you a second chance to bargain with him he had his nails dug into your hips, earning a shriek of laughter from you while you tried your best to cover your face and endure it all. Giggles poured from you like an unsteady fountain, forgetting all about your work as the feeling of thumbs in your hips completely took over your senses.

Surprisingly, Moon found a lot of joy in this, the sound of your laughter setting off all the bells in his head that rang with the sound of joy. Your laughter was far more adorable that he ever would have imagined, and he admittedly got a little carried away with drawing out your cute little giggles. The only thing missing was the view of your flustered grin that you had hidden behind your hands. He could still tell how red you were despite all your efforts to hide yourself though. You couldn’t hide anything from him, really.

“M-Moon please! No mohohore!” You soon begged, your breaths becoming heavy.

“Will you go to sleep?”

“Yehehes! I promise! I’ll go to sleep!” You nodded frantically.

He finally eased up on you and let you catch your breath, your chest heaving up and down trying to regain all the oxygen that left you from your laughter. Your hands finally fell from your face to show your rosey cheeks, a ghost of a smile still lingering on your lips thanks to the phantom tickly feeling left over on your skin. Moon still sat atop you, watching you with a stern eye but an oddly soft smile.

“You. Are mean. But I still called it.” You huffed. “Those nails were meant for tickling, and you are the least threatening one here.”

“Least threatening eh? Are you asking me to continue?” He questioned, leaning down closer.

“E-eheheh… No…”

“Then I’d say my threats are quite effective.” He chuckled.

“Oh whatever. Take me back to the daycare so I can nap.” You groaned.

“Take you? What, do your legs not work anymore?”

“Too tired.” You mumbled. “You got what you wanted. I’m thoroughly exhausted. You gotta take responsibility for your actions.”

Without waiting, you threw your arms up and latched onto Moon’s torso, awaiting your ride back to comfort. He sparked a little, surprised by the intimacy. He understood hugging and holding onto Sun, but holding onto him… Was just a little bit foreign. You were right though, and he did plan on lugging you back to the daycare whether you said yes or no anyway. So, without waiting any longer Moon sighed audibly and picked you up from the floor, holding you bridal style so you wouldn’t fall.

“Don’t forget my laptop.” You added on.

“You can get it tomorrow. It’ll be safe there because I’m going to actually close the door this time.” Moon retorted.

“... Touche.”

You went silent as Moon hauled you back to the daycare, protecting you from map bots once again. He too was silent, but only because there was a very intense conversation going on in his head between him and Sun. There was a bit of teasing, excitement, and embarrassment that ended up getting reflected in Moon’s expression, yet another gentle blue glow rising on his cheeks as he walked you back up to his room. He took you to the same corner you always slept in, which was conveniently their charging space, and debated on just setting you down in the bean bag chair and screwing off again. Sun argued against that though, and actually encouraged him to do what was done last time.

“Just rest with her! She sleeps so much better when we stay.” Sun buzzed in the back of Moon’s mind.

Moon grumbled, his central system starting to overheat again at the thought of resting with you in his arms. He could not lie to Sun though. They shared thoughts, and he did really wish to do so.

“Hey, moonbeam, you still hanging in there?” Moon spoke gently, giving you a squeeze to check your condition.

“Mnh, barely. ‘Sup?”

“Would you… Like me to stay?”

“... Actually, yeah. That’d be… real nice.” You huffed.

“Alright. I can… Use the time to charge then.” He nodded as he sat down in the oversized bean bag chair with you, taking a brief moment to plug himself in.

“Mhmm. Charge. Sure.” You snickered.

He was about to scold you to try and divert any attention away from the bright blue that was now flushed across his features, but you were already out cold. You always did that: worked yourself to the bone regardless of your own health or benefit and then passed out at the snap of a finger when given the chance. Perhaps he really had exhausted you with all that tickling. That combined with the hours of coding would have anyone knocking out on the spot.

You were curled up across his legs, your head nestled neatly into the chair next to his chest. The gentle and steady breaths told him you were fine, and he let go of his authoritative act for the moment. There was a bit of hesitance, but he carefully rested an arm behind your back and held you gently yet securely so you wouldn’t fall off. You were soft, and quite warm as well. He now understood what Sun felt when napping with you and wished he had more chances to do so.

“... I think we need to tell her soon.” Moon mumbled quietly to Sun.

“M-Moon! Not yet! I… What if she gets weirded out and stops coming to see us? Or worse, what if she sends someone else to work with us!” Sun panicked.

“Sun, I doubt that. She is very much different than any of the other employees. I honestly think she likes us too. Or at least, one of us…”

"Ohhh… This is so embarrassing. Oh no I can’t think about this. I’ll make us overheat.” Sun fretted.

“We both love her. We should tell her soon at least, before we overheat permanently one day.” Moon sighed softly.

“... Okay. Just… Not yet, please. I don’t think I’m ready to do it yet.”

“Calm down, Sun. I honestly don’t think I’m ready yet either.”

#fnaf #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf moon x reader #fnaf sunny #sun x reader #moon x reader #sun/moon #sun/moon x reader #security breach x reader #tickle fic

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

It’s All in the Perspective

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4491

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Gun Violence, Minor Character Injury, A Peek at Angry Bucky, Explosions (if that’s a warning), Mentions of Stevie (I really miss him, guys)

A/N: So! Here it is! Part 4.3! After long hours of laboring and slaving away - kidding, kidding. I had a bit of trouble with this part, not gonna lie, because there’s a lot of feelings I wanted to try explaining. To do that, there’s a little sort of twist at the end that, once I decided to put in, made the chapter much smoother to write. I wasn’t happy with it at first, but now I’m satisfied.

There’s a lot of things happening in this one; it’s longer than I had anticipated because of the little snippet at the end I added. It’s got a few scene-for-scene things, but I kinda blew past it just to get to the characters’ emotions and stuff. Plus writing action like the shipping yard scene is hard when you’re not focusing entirely on that scene, which I wasn’t.

You’ll notice that the last little bit with Ayo (the Wakandan) isn’t in this. That’s because I couldn’t really find a way to fit it in and I’m assuming it will fit in better with next week’s episode.

Not beta’d, so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you wonderful people for reading and commenting! I enjoy hearing your opinions and what you like about the show and the series! Enjoy the final Part for Episode 3 and stay tuned for an announcement tomorrow about the One Shots I’ll be doing in relation to this series!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

You and Bucky kept sneaking glances at each other as you walked through the dock, weaving between the different colored shipping containers with Sharon leading the way. Every time you caught his eye, his ears turned red and he looked away, scanning your surroundings. Not that you were any better, immediately turning away when he turned your way.

You almost kissed him. Fuck. You couldn’t let that happen. He was your friend. Your teammate. He was the best friend to the man you fell in love with, who just so happened to be your best friend. Your best friend who left you. Your best friend who you promised you would watch out for Bucky.

Bucky…who you also fell in love with. Whether or not it was because of Steve, the fact of the matter was: you loved him. You loved both of them. And you’d never loved anyone like that before. And one left. And the other was trying to navigate through his shitty life. And you weren’t any better. Which is why, you decided in that moment, that no matter how much you wanted to - and holy shit did you want to - you wouldn’t pursue.

Yet. Maybe. Ugh! When did feelings become so complicated?!

When you started having them.

You silently grumbled to yourself, shaking your head clear. You had to focus and be in the moment. Now was not the time to sort out what to do about the suddenly rising emotions towards the cerulean eyed brunette currently burning with you with a gaze you refused to return.

“Alright.” Sharon stopped, making the group stop as well. “He’s in there. Container 4261. I’ll keep an eye out while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry; we’re on borrowed time.”

You each grabbed one of the earpieces she held in her palm, slipping it comfortably in your ear. “I’ll stay back with you.” Sharon went to talk, but you cut her off. “I’d feel better knowing it’s not just you out here.”

She pursed her lips, before nodding. “Alright. If that’s what you want.”

“Doll-”

“I’ll be fine, Buck.” You insisted, checking your gun to make sure it was loaded. Bucky stayed quiet, nodding in begrudging acceptance.

You and Sharon headed off as the boys went towards the storage unit. “Just like old times, huh?” Sharon raised an eyebrow at you.

You grinned, shoving your gun in the thigh holster she let you borrow. “Let the good times roll, babe.”

“Absolutely.” Sharon winked, before you two split up to cover more ground. It wasn’t long before Sharon announced company and you took off sprinting in her direction.

You got to her just as more thugs approached her from behind, immediately lunging into action.

“Hey, so, we never finished that conversation!”

You grunted as you roundhouse kicked a guy, hooking your knee over his shoulder and pulling him to the ground by the neck “Really?! You wanna do that now?!”

“Sure! I’m not too busy!”

You rolled your eyes at her reply, seeing her knock a guy unconscious before she turned around to knee another one in the face. “What were we talking about?”

“Why’re you holding back?”

“It’s complicated!” You elbowed a guy in the ribs, flipping him over your shoulder and twisting his arm till a sickening crack sounded.

“Because of Steve?!”

“Yes - no! Kind of!”

Sharon was on the floor choking a guy out as you slammed a guy’s head into a shipping container, pushing him at another guy. “You loved him didn’t you?! And I mean, like in love with him!”

“Who?!” You laced your fingers around the back of his head and brought his face down onto his knee.

“Director Fury!” You gave her a look which she snorted at. “Steve, you dumbass! Who else?!”

“Yeah! No shit I was in love with him!” You ran up the side of a storage unit to do a backflip and land on some guy’s shoulders, choking him out. Before he fell, you rolled off, tripping a guy in the process and elbowing his throat.

“Well at least you’re admitting it now!”

You were hit in the back of the head, thrown into a wrestle with another guy on the ground. You bit his hand, making him cry out, before you headbutted him.

“You couldn’t even hear his name without having to remind people you were ‘just friends’!”

“We were just friends, Share! You know that!”

You heard her shoot of a gun a few times as you smacked someone in the back of the head with the butt of your gun, trying to save ammo. “You really never did anything about it?!”

“No!”

She glanced at you incredulously from across the way, bodies now littering the ground. “And you don’t regret that?”

“No.” You sighed at her look, relenting. “Yes. Kind of. I dunno. I mean…he’s happy with his decision, and for me that’s enough.”

“But doesn’t it hurt?”

“Of course it hurts. It hurts like hell. But-”

“But you still have him so it’s all good.”

You bit your lip, shrugging. “Something like that.”

Sharon tilted her head, confused. “So why don’t you tell him?”

“I dunno. I don’t think either of us is ready.”

“C’mon. I saw you two earlier. You should’ve just kissed him.”

Rolling your eyes, you frowned when you noticed something missing. “Ah shit. My ear piece. It must’ve fallen out earlier.” You looked around, but Sharon stopped you, nodding her head between a couple shipping containers.

“Don’t worry about it. Mine broke a little while ago, too. Let’s go get the guys. Tell them we need to leave.”

You nodded and started running with her to the unit Nagel’s lab was in. You followed her around the corner, only to widen your eyes and shove her out of the way. Two gunshots rang out, Sharon catching the guy right between the eyes, while the man’s bullet grazed your shoulder.

“Ow, fuck.” You hissed, hand immediately going up to clamp your wound.

“Dammit! You shouldn’t have done that, you idiot!”

You gave her a look. “You’re welcome.”

Rolling her eyes, she quickly tore off part of your shirt. “Hey!”

“First off, this is my shirt. Second, I’m just making it more of a crop top. Third, it’s your own fault, so quit your whining.”

“Touchy touchy.” You grumbled, wincing when she tied it around your arm.

“Just come on. And hey,” she turned to you as she sprinted with your wrist in her hold. “My advice? Don’t wait. Seriously. I know it must be weird, the whole he’s his best friend, he was your best friend, now he’s your best friend, thing you’ve got going on, but there’s nothing else stopping you. Steve made his choice. And he’d be fine with whatever you choose as long as you’re happy.”

You shook your head. “But Bucky’s still healing-”

“So? He’s already been on dates. I think you’re just using that as an excuse to protect your heart from hurting again. Trust me; Barnes isn’t going anywhere.”

Not able to respond since you were making your way to the guys in Nagel’s lab, you bit your lip, hating that she got the last say in the conversation. She definitely planned it so she would. “We’re outta time, fellas.”

As if things couldn’t get worse Zemo - that fucking snake, you knew he was gonna do something stupid - took out a gun he got from who knows where. You sure as hell didn’t let him have a gun. Before you could stop him, he shot Nagel, your best, your only, lead.

“Goddammit!” You growled as Sam and Sharon restrained him. “You fucking-”

The explosion came next, again happening faster than you could react. Bucky grabbed you and pulled you underneath him, covering you with his body as glass and metal flew around you. With ringing ears, you groaned, squinting your eyes open.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You were vaguely aware of the alarms going off, a red light blinking behind Bucky’s head. You nodded, his worried eyes softening just slightly at your response. “We gotta get out-”

“I know, I know. C’mon.” He helped you up, eyes catching sight of the makeshift bandage on your arm. “Dammit, what did you do?”

“I’m fine.” You pushed his hands off. “Go help Sharon. We’ve gotta move. Now.” He huffed, but nodded and moved over to get Sharon. You tried to see where Zemo went through the smoke, but he was already gone.

You four made it just before the whole thing combusted due to the chemicals in the lab. So much for any evidence or leads.

The moment you got out, you were thrust into a gunfight, rolling your eyes as Bucky and Sam, once again, did their own thing.

“Are they always like this?”

“Usually it’s worse. Wait until they start arguing about who was right.” Sharon gave you an unamused look to which you nodded at, ducking when a bullet whizzed by you. “I know. It’s so annoying.”

Sure enough, when Bucky ran out of bullets, the bickering commenced, making you huff and Sharon shout at them. “Are they serious?”

You shot a few more bullets before your gun started clicking. “Dammit. Unfortunately.”

“I’m out!”

“Me too!”

Another explosion and a person you couldn’t see clearly through the haze caused a distraction for you guys to get away, Sam practically shoving you and Sharon into an open shipping container as Bucky took care of a couple more bounty hunters.

“What happened? Both of your comms went out.” Bucky growled once he came in behind you, grabbing your forearm to study your wound.

“It’s just a graze. Chill your ass down. I lost my earpiece and Sharon’s broke.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, his voice low with warning. “What. Happened.”

“We rounded a corner, the guy was there. I shoved Sharon, he shot, she shot, I got hit, he’s now dead. Happy?”

“You promised.” He snapped, finger tightening on your arm. “You said you’d save yourself first.”

“Buck, let go.” Grabbing his wrist, you tugged a bit, wincing slightly. “Seriously. Stop. That hurts.”

He blinked, his features slacking and his fingers immediately dropping your arm. “Doll, I-I…fuck.” He turned to go punch through the back wall to get out of the unit you were in.

Before you could respond and tell him it was fine, the Baron himself drove up in a slick blue convertible. You groaned at Bucky’s response to Zemo. “We need him.” God, you were getting tired of hearing that.

“You’re lucky I don’t bash your head in.” You growled at him.

“If you try that shit again-”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Sam raised an eyebrow when Bucky got into the passenger’s seat with no hesitation, looking at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but you shrugged and slipped into the back with Sam. Bucky and you always took the back seat. You had ever since the dumb little blue car Steve got.

You hugged Sharon in parting, knowing she couldn’t come with. “Hey.” She looked at you sternly. “Take a leap.”

“We’ll see.” You told her, sitting down and buckling.

“Do better than that, Y/L/N. And get me that pardon you promised me.” She told Sam, pointing at him..

“Thanks for everything.” She nodded, before jogging off in the opposite direction you’d be heading. Sam turned back to the front, an annoyed expression crossing his face. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.”

You snickered as Sam shot you a glare, Zemo starting to drive the car out of the shipping yard, away from the chaos.

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

You collapsed onto the seat in front of Bucky, leaning onto the knee he had propped up against the back. He glanced up at you, face blank, before looking back down at his metal hand he was cleaning.

“Here. Let me see-”

“I got it.” He grumbled, shifting away from where your hands reached for his.

Your eyes widened, stunned at his reaction. “Bucky, just let me-”

“I said no, Y/N.” Your name. Again. You can’t remember him calling you ‘doll’ since before the shipping yard explosion.

“Are you okay?” He merely grunted. You straightened off his leg, swatting his knees with the back of your hand. “Hey.”

He shifted again, planting his feet on the floor. “Stop.”

“No.”

He shot you a warning glare. “Y/N-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name, isn’t it?”

“What is wrong with you?” You scrunched up your features in confusion and concern. “Is this about my arm? I told you it’s fine.” You got no response except his eye flickering to your now properly bandaged shoulder. “Why are you acting so weird?”

He shrugged. “I’m not.”

You scoffed in disbelief, jaw dropping. “You’re not.”

“Nope.”

“Fine.” You stood up, brushing your legs off, the bare skin having splotches and smears of dirt and dust. “If you wanna be like that, go ahead. Brood. Be a child. When you’re ready to talk to me about whatever the hell is bothering you, like an adult, I’ll be in the back room.”

You only took two steps before he called out for you. “Doll.” You turned around, an expectant look on your features as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot. He looked up at you nervously, before looking down and picking at the metal plates of his hand. “I got scared.”

Your features softened, your head tilting gently. “Scared?”

“When you stopped talking. You and Sharon…you were talking. But both of your comms went down around the same time and I…it scared me. I-I don’t get scared anymore. Not the way I did when your voice stopped. I didn’t mean to hurt you…” His voice got quieter at the last sentence, his eyes looking to the purple handprint on your forearm.

“It was an accident, Buck.” You reassured him, settling back down in front of him. “It’s fine. You were still reeling it in from the bar. I know it’s hard for you to judge your strength like that. Steve had problems like that too.” You looked down at the rag he was holding, putting your hand out.

He licked his lips, before handing you the rag. You got off the couch to shift so you were sitting between his legs, his chest to your back. Holding his metallic hand between both of yours, you set to work, gingerly wiping away the grime, picking at the filth that wedged itself between the plates.

“He,” you chuckled, shaking your head at the moment you were remembering. “He accidentally gave me a concussion once when we were sparring. At first it was awesome; he got me my favorite take out and took me to the movies and all that. But then he just started getting annoying. Wouldn’t even let me reach for the TV remote on the coffee table a yard away.”

“Can I ask you something?” You hummed, tilting your head slightly when you felt his chin hooking on your shoulder, giving him more room. “How long did you love him?”

Freezing, you raised an eyebrow and turned to face him. “What?”

“You and Sharon. When you were talking…your comms were on.”

“How-” You swallowed thickly, a lump suddenly forming in the back of your throat. “How much did you hear?”

“Yours went out right after you admitted you were in love with him. Hers went out after you said you were just friends.”

Holding in a sigh of relief, you went back to cleaning his hand. “I don’t really know exactly when it happened. After the Battle of New York, maybe. So 2012, I guess? I dunno. I was getting up from falling for him, though. A few years later.”

“Was?”

“I - yeah. I kind of…fell again.”

He hummed, leaning back, taking his chin off your shoulder and unwinding his arm from your waist. “He’s an easy person to fall for. Hell, I’m pretty sure I had a crush on him once upon a time.”

You chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow over your shoulder at him. “I never said I fell for him again. But, yeah. You’re right.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You like someone else?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“Oh…” He cleared his throat as you went back to his hand. “Uh…so you don’t still love him? Steve, I mean?”

“He was the first person I really loved, Bucky. A part of me will always love him.”

Bucky fingers twitched in your hold, the fingers on his other hand tapping against his thigh. “You know…he loved you too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“It’s true-”

“He left, James. If he loved me, why would he leave?”

You could feel his hesitation as his next words left his lips. “I-I dunno.” That was a lie. You could hear it in his voice. If there was one person Steve trusted more than you, it was Bucky. Of course he knew.

“Listen, I really don’t want to talk about this-”

“It’s in the notebook.” You bit your lip as Bucky shifted, pulling out the little notebook from his pocket. “He made lists - he liked lists. He made lists of things you said that made him laugh. Songs that reminded him of you. Little quirks you do that he noticed over the years. He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

“James, please-”

“He didn’t want me to let you know. But I had to tell you. You have to know. He loved you.”

You let out a shaky breath as he placed the book on your thigh. You stared at it for a moment, before grabbing it and placing it in his left hand, closing his fingers around it and standing up. “I think…I’m gonna go rest for a bit in the back room. Holler if you need me.”

You didn’t wait for a response, moving quickly to the small back room of the plane which you got dressed in only a couple days ago. It only had one arm chair and instead of a door there was a curtain, but you were fine with that, plopping down in the chair and reclining.

Why? Why would he bring that up? Did he hear more than he said? Was he trying to let you down easy before you could even tell him how you felt? Did he get spooked after dancing? After the almost-kiss?

You never thought of Steve in the wrong. After all he’d done for the world in his life, he deserved to be selfish - to be happy. And Peggy gave him that. But why? Why would he leave if he loved you so dearly? If he really did what Bucky said? He wouldn’t. He’s not cruel. He wouldn’t up and leave, without even saying goodbye, knowing how deeply you loved him and feeling the same about you. This was Steven Grant Rogers for crying out loud! He wouldn’t…right?

But Bucky…he wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t tell you that, especially knowing how much you missed the lovable blonde. And you knew his words held at least some truth. Actions spoke louder than words, and as something Bucky said repeated itself in your mind, you started slipping into a memory, your eyes shutting and your breaths evening out.

“He missed you every time you went on a mission and prayed you’d get back safely.”

The incessant knocking made you groan, shouting that you were coming and mumbling curses. You barely threw open the door before his worried voice hit your ears. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“Stevie.” You sighed, rubbing your eyes and looking over at the clock on the wall. “Bubs…it’s two in the morning. I just got back, like, an hour ago.”

He shuffled, pink lips in a pout, eyes round and distressed. “I know, honey. I know. I’m sorry. But I heard you got hurt-”

You shook your head, a small giggle of amusement leaving your lips and you lifted your right hand, letting him see the black split holding your ring and pinky fingers. “I jammed my fingers in a door. The doc said I’ll be fully healed in a month at most.”

His eyes darted across your face and down your body, scanning for any more injuries. After glancing at your hands again, they finally landed on your eyes once more. Next thing you knew, you were being held against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck. You hummed softly, running your fingers down his spine, moving the two of you deeper into your apartment so you could shut the door.

“Don’t ever do that again. I gotta have faith in something and if you come home hurt, it’ll be crushed.”

Your eyebrows knit together. At his strange wording. “What’s that mean?”

“It means you have to promise me you’ll stay safe, honey.” He pulled back and held your face between his hands. “Please.”

“I can promise I’ll try my best.” You teased lightly, smiling at him and booping his nose, making him grin, although it was strained. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? We’ll turn on some TV in my room and you can keep me safe while I get much needed sleep.”

That made his grin relax into a real one, his head nodding in agreement. “Sounds perfect.”

“C’mon, bubs.” You took his hand, leading him to your room. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and you’ll catch some zzzz’s too.”

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“What the hell was that?”

Bucky turned to Sam, who was gaping at him in utter disbelief, looking from the assassin to the doorway Y/N just walked through. “She needed to know.”

“Buck, she’s been dealing with some shit. And we both know something’s going on that she isn’t telling us. Her “zoning out” isn’t just zoning out, and we know that. She doesn’t need you confusing her even more.”

“Confusing her?”

Sam blinked, his troubled expression falling into a deadpan. “Are you fucking with me? No. There’s no way you’re that naive. Seriously?! Man, c’mon!”

Bucky scrunched up his face. “What?”

“She likes you, man! Everyone knows it!”

The brunette shook his head, forehead creased. “No. No, you heard her, Sam. She’s in love with Steve.”

“Was in love. As in past tense.”

“But-but she said- she likes someone else-”

“Barnes!” Sam threw his hands up, exasperated. “You are someone else!”

“I thought you two were already-”

Bucky pointed warningly at Zemo. “Watch it. Wait, wait-” He turned back to Sam. “But I heard her-”

“Bucky…man…” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, I can’t tell you everything. I’m not about to break my girl’s trust like that. But you gotta hear me when I tell you she likes you. What do you think almost happened at the party?”

“She - I - it was…an accident?”

Sam spluttered, eyes wide. “An accident? You two grinding and nearly making out was an accident?!”

“Woah! We were not…grinding-”

Zemo hummed. “Hmm…you kind of were.”

Bucky glared at him. “Thin. Fucking. Ice.” He whipped back to Sam. “I just remind her of him.”

“What?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! You remind her of Steve? Yes, granted your both dumbasses, but she knows both of you enough to know there’s quite a few big differences.”

“Wilson-”

Sam held up his hand, shutting Bucky up. “You like her. Yes or no.”

Bucky huffed, looking down at the hand she was holding only minutes ago. “Yes.” He finally relented. “Since the first couple months in Wakanda.”

“Steve liked her. Yes or no.”

He ran a hand through his hair, nodding his head. “Yes. Yes he liked her. I wasn’t lying about that.”

“So explain something to me.” Sam crossed his arms. “Why is it that Steve isn’t here, and you are?”

Bucky crossed his arms, brooding - although he’d never admit it - while staring out the window. “Steve…knew. I liked her. And, yes, he loved her, but he also loved Peggy. So he…”

“He told you to take your chance with Y/N, and he went back to be with his first love.”

HYDRA’s former fist nodded with a sigh. “Something like that.”

“You need to tell her.”

“I can’t.”

Sam groaned. “Why not?!”

“Because!” Bucky took a breath, trying not to shout and alert the sleeping girl in the room over, his ears tuning into her slowed heartbeat to make sure she was okay. “Because Steve has her heart, Sam. The whole thing just…I’m jealous of him. Because he got her first. And then I get mad because he didn’t do shit about it. And then I feel guilty because all the shit he put up with for me and here I am complaining…and then I just get…depressed because he’s not here. I used to be the one who fixed his problems. But after I got out…he’s been the one fixing mine. And I just…I don’t know what to do.”

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I get it. That’s valid. But stop whining and moping around about it. It happened. And you need to get your shit together. If not for your sake, for hers. Because she lost him too. And she’s probably feeling those exact same feelings.”

“But…she’s his girl-”

“No. She’s not. He made his choice.” Sam nodded towards Bucky. “Now you gotta make yours, Buckaroo.”

He shot him a glare. “You can’t call me that.”

“Why not? Y/N calls you that.”

“Y/N has a plan.”

“We both know that’s not true, Buckaroo. Hey! That one rhymed!”

Bucky shook his head with a scowl. “I will beat your ass, Wilson.”

Sam scoffed, shoving Bucky’s head playfully. “Stop being a dumbass and tell her. Buckaroo.”

“That’s it!”

Bucky tackled Sam to the ground, Zemo giving them an amused expression before leaving to talk to Oeznik. They were so wrapped up in their wrestling session, they didn’t notice the woman leaning against the wall, tired eyes barely opened as her eyebrows raised, unimpressed.

“Are you fellas done?’

They both stopped, shooting up when they noticed her. “Doll, I-”

She shook her head. “Don’t, Buck. Not right now. I’m just really tired.”

“Did we wake you?” Sam winced.

She shook her head again, yawning. “No. I just needed to use the restroom.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile as she rubbed her eyes, stretching her arms overhead, making that ripped crop top ride higher up. She was too cute. And she didn’t even realize it.

“Sleep well, doll. We’ll try to keep it down.”

She nodded, turning and waving over her shoulder. “You two try getting sleep, too, alright? Goodnight, Sammy.”

“Night, cher.”

“Sweetheart?” She peeked through the curtain, tilting her head slightly. “You know I love you, right?”

A small smile quirked up her lips, but it was sadder than the ones his question usually elicited. “As long as you know I love you.”

He nodded, returning the half-smile. “G’night, doll.”

“Goodnight, Buckaroo.”

2K notes · View notes

be-ready-when-i-say-go · 3 years

Text

Anklets and Necklaces

Inspired by this tweet.

@5-secondsofcolor I’m not sorry.

Female Reader insert. NSFW Content (18+). My smut writing is hella rusty. So I do apologize, whoops.

_______________

Calum plays at the anklet, spinning it around and around her joint as her legs are crossed and resting in his lap. The gold jewellry is hardly ever taken off since he gave it to her. In return, she gifted him a chain with a tiny pendant with her initial etched into the back of it. The front of it is an arrowhead. He wears it so often now, that when it’s off, he feels a little incomplete. It’s an easy gesture to carry her everywhere with him.

“Okay we gotta decide what to eat for lunch like now or I’m going to get hangry,” she states.

Calum glances up from his phone, to see her still scrolling on hers. “Oh no. Not hangry,” he teases. But he knows she means it. Her warnings have about a thirty minute window, just enough for a delivery if they get something simple. Or if they want something more complicated, they need to find a snack now while the main course is cooking. “What do you want? Thai? Mexican?”

“Would you hate me if I said I really just wanted nuggets from McDonalds?”

The pout on her lips makes him laugh, “No, I could never. Usual then?”

“Yes, please.”

Stretching across the length of her, Calum pushes his lips together, trying to ask for a kiss. She laughs in return and squeezes his cheeks. “Be lucky you’re cute,” she states before lifting up slightly to meet his lips. “And squishy.”

“Ain’t nothing on me squishy,” he huffs, straightening back up to put her order into the app.

She sets her phone down on her stomach, gazing up over the sharp line of his jaw that his plump cheeks sit atop. And while it’d be easy to return with a poke and a verbal jab about his cheeks, she just watches him. His fingers deftly work over the screen. The white tank sits as a stark contrast to the depth and glow of his skin. “I think all the right things on you are squishy.”

“Yeah, what are those?”

“Your cheeks. And as much as you and your trainer kick your ass, I know happy weight when I see it.”

Calum grins, a chuckle shaking through him as he sets his phone down on the arm of the couch--the order completed on his end. He pinches at her thighs. “Take that back.”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think I will. I like it--just like I like my cookies. Hard on the edges gooey in the middle.”

Standing for just a moment to let her legs fall onto the couch, Calum kneels onto the cushion, hovering above her. Her eyes glitter just a little as she talks and the soft easy smile on her face lets him know that it’s all out of love--what’s she’s saying. The pads of his fingers run along the side of her thigh. “Be lucky I love you.”

“I am already lucky, so say what you gotta say. Roast me, my love. It’s not like we don’t do that anyways.”

And truth be told, Calum had no response. Not when he looks at her, because God all he sees is the person that’s been with him on his bad mental days. She’s been there when Calum was sure there was no lower low or higher high. And what do you say to that person that’s been there, seen all of you that there is to see? With a gentle and chaste kiss, Calum settles for silence.

“Cat got your tongue now, huh?”

This--this Calum can respond too. It’s all too easy. “I know what else my tongue can have.”

“I know something your tongue can have too.”

“Really now?” Calum asks, dragging his fingers over the top of her thigh and tracing the line of her lounge shorts. “Food will be here in fifteen minutes though. So that’s up to you.”

“Not nearly enough time to savor it. Besides,” she starts and takes a pause. Her lips pull into a side smile and Calum knows what that means. One brow quirks in anticipation and Calum watches her. The silence settles for a little too long.

“Besides what?” he prompts again.

“Besides, I need the mail to be delivered first.”

“What did you buy?”

“You’ll see later. I promise. It’s really not even supposed to be used for lingerie. But I’ve wanted these for a long time and I specifically have a set I’m trying to complete.”

There’s the black mesh set that she’s slowly been building out. The main piece came in weeks ago, at this point it might even be months ago that that came in. He was privy to it then and gave it the christening that it deserved. But there wasn’t any other lingerie set that needed expansion. Not at least to his recalling. “Which one is it?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Oh please,” he whines, dropping his head into her neck. His lips softly and slowly seal kisses into her warm skin.

“No, Calum. I’ve been waiting on this package for weeks. It got held up in customs and I-” she sighs at his lips sucking at her skin. Not hard enough to cause a bruise, but just enough to make her spine tingle. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Calum pushes up, with a huff, sitting back down on the opposite end of the couch. “This is killing me, you know?”

“Well, you ain’t dead yet. So I think you can tough it out for a little bit longer.”

“Begrudgingly--I want you to know that.”

She sits up, swinging her feet to the floor. “Your sacrifice will be duly noted. The mail will be here before you know it.” The couch releases her weight and Calum watches her pad into the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” she calls.

“I’m good,” he returns, knowing that he will be counting down the seconds until the mail comes. She returns with a glass of water, sitting back down on the couch, but bringing her feet up underneath her as she motions to the TV. “You watching that?”

Calum answers with a shrug. He wasn’t anymore. He originally turned it on mostly for the weather and some news. He found himself bored and flipping through channels before settling on the sports channel while he took care of Duke in the morning. Noise to fill the space since his brain needed the distraction. He hadn’t slept all that great the last few nights, decent sleep. The closer and closer the band got to putting out music the more his nerves kicked in--sometimes they were sneaky. The nerves come up faster than Calum had anticipated. And right now, they won the first round. But Calum was working hard to combat them so he could get about his daily life.

“Go crazy,” he finally verbally responds. And she picks up the remote, changing channels too fast for Calum to even understand how you could process what was on before decking it was a no. She eventually settles for HGTV--not quite caring what show was on.

The first knock that comes to the door is the food that Calum ordered for the two of them. He answers it, popping up in the hopes it’s the mail. When it’s not, he sighs just a little but places the bag down onto the coffee table. “Your nugs, my queen,” he teases.

“Thank you, my good sir,” she returns with a grin, opening before divvying out what is for who. “You wouldn’t have happened to shot up like a bat outta hell because you wanted that to be the mail?”

Calum feels the heat in his cheeks, but bumps her shoulder gently. “No, why would I ever want that?”

“Oh I don’t know,” she scoffs in return, dunking a nugget into the sweet and sour sauce. They share a soft bout of laughter before turning their gaze back to the TV. Duke’s paws click as he ventures into the kitchen for a drink of water from his bowl. The lapping and splash of his tongue echoing just slightly as the screen goes dark between the show and the commercial break.

Calum lifts his gaze, taking in the soft angle of her jaw. She curls up around the carton of fries, eyes glued to the screen. Does she even have the slightest clue what she does to him? It’s not even the involved things like dressing up for him, or comforting him. It’s just her, when she’s munching on fries. Or when she sleepily walks behind Duke in the mornings. It’s when she hums as she cooks. It’s the dancing she does when she’s cleaning. It’s the pouts when she messes up on something and her brow furrows in as the determination settles onto her face.

It’s when she fucked up a birthday cake for him once--not greasing the sides of the pan enough and then adding a tad too much milk--called him crying about it and then in a minute flat resolved to make him brownies instead. Because she said she’d be damned if she didn’t make him something sweet to nibble on or pass along to the guys. And Calum’s not even that much of a sweets guy, which she knew, so she only settled on giving him half the batch she made. She, of course, saved the other half for her and her friends.

And it’s just the moments that she’s not even trying that makes Calum melt. Like when she paints her nails, she offers to do his first. Or when she lays down next to Duke, and in their shared silence, they seem to communicate everything with each other.

“I love you,” he states.

She turns, eyes widening for a second before grinning around her sip of iced tea. “I love you.” Her brows furrow just a little. “You okay? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“If you didn’t want McDonalds, I could’ve done something else. Literally anything else,” she continues on almost as if she hadn’t heard him.

“It’s not the food,” he giggles. Calum reaches out to caress her cheek. “I’m okay.”

She nods. “Okay.”

“I just love you, that’s all. Wanted to share it with you.”

Her grin is soft as it lifts her lips. “Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of getting rid of you.”

Another silence envelopes them. Calum finishes his food and takes the empty containers to the trash. Another episode starts up from the speakers and just above it, he hears the chime of his phone. “Do you want me to screen it for you?”

“Yes please!” If it’s one of the guys, they won’t mind her answering. If it’s someone important, he doesn’t want to miss the call.

“Calum’s phone,” she answers but he can already hear her feet shuffling to him in the kitchen. “Okay, Ash. I’ll keep that in mind.” Her voice comes closer and Calum shakes his hands just a little to get rid of the excess water before drying them. “No, I can’t say what it is without taking a look. Did you use the soil I recommended last time?” Another pause comes from her and when Calum turns, he finds her leaning up the kitchen counter, phone halfway pulled down but not fully away from her ear. “Yeah, I definitely think you should consider changing soils. But I can take a better look tomorrow for you. I’m going to pass along the phone now.”

She hands the phone over. “He said it was important.”

“Thank you,” Calum says in a whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead and then placing the phone to his ear. “Yeah, Ash?”

Calum’s not even sure how long the conversation goes on. At first, it is important information that Ashton’s trying to confirm--a date and time for a meeting that they had later in the week. He says he wrote it down where he writes down all their meetings but it’s not there. And Ashton’s trying to make sure that he doesn’t miss it. So Calum shuffles to his office and verifies in his calendar the time for the meeting.

But then the conversation diverges--they start talking about everything and anything. So much so, they’re laughing. Calum doesn’t even hear the knock at the front door. But he does notice her scurrying off into the bedroom. The door closes with a soft click. Duke comes trailing after her but notices the closer door and then keeps down the hall to the office. Calum reclines back in his seat trying to get another angle at the door. But it’s closed fully.

“You okay, gramps?” Calum asks Duke.

“Oh fuck off, mate!” Ashton laughs.

“Not you, you fucking egg. Duke--I was talking to Duke.”

“Oh!” Ashton giggles. “Sorry, I thought you was trying to talk shit.”

“I don’t have to try and do that to you.”

“Oi, don’t start something bro.” The two of them laugh and Calum bends down to scratch behind Duke’s ears. “Alright, thanks for confirming that meeting. I’ll see you tomorrow in the studio?”

“Yeah--bright and early. Talk to you later.” The call ends and when Calum spins around in his desk chair, his jaw drops as she steps out from the bedroom. It’s not exactly something new--as in something that she’s never worn before. But it doesn’t mean he ever gets tired of seeing her like this.

The white bustier pushes her breasts up and almost over the cups. And he travels the look down, taking in the baby blue skirt, fishnet knee highs. And he goes back up, taking in a black strap wrapping around her thighs. She notes the lustful gaze and steps right on the line of the threshold to the door.

“So,” Calum starts, trailing his gaze down and then back up to her face. “Not the black lingerie I was anticipating.”

“No, I’m waiting for the heels I want for that lingerie to go on sale. Besides, you didn’t like the collar I liked so I’m still searching.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t like it. It’s just too similar to one we already bought.”

“You’re right, but still.”

Calum cracks a smile at the reluctant confession. “But enough about that. This--this is a cute outfit.”

She nods, smoothing out the pleated mini skirt. “It’s less about the outfit and more about these,” she says, tapping at the thin black band.

“And those are?” Calum asks. It’s one step closer into the room and Calum think he can make out a heart shaped metal loop in the middle of it. She takes a second step closer and Calum can see clearly it’s some sort of thigh garter--leather or something related as the material. “Oh,” he breathes.

She continues slowly to approach Calum and when she’s just in arms reach, she lifts the skirt up. It goes up inch by inch and Calum’s entranced. Watching more of her thighs revealed to him. And soon it’s black panties--mesh and if Calum remembers correctly crotchless. But wrapped around her waist is another band of leather. Two pieces hook to another metal hoop right on her hip bones and then one trip connects the top piece to the bottom.

“A harness garter belt--what do you think?” she asks in a whisper.

Calum exhales, desire stirring in the pit of his stomach. He reaches out, wrapping his fingers around her thighs and pulling her into him. He kisses in the spaces between the leather, gingerly, lips hardly touching her skin. “I think you look beautiful,” he hums, dropping his head on his neck to look up at her.

Her eyes are still closed and Calum softly runs the tips of his fingers up her thigh, tracing the lines of the harness. With a deep exhale, she finally blinks back to reality. “Not too silly?”

His brows meet in the middle of his face. Why would she think it’s too silly? There’s nothing silly about her standing in front of him, clearly excited about her own purchase. “Angel--I’ll be damned if I ever think this is silly.”

Swinging her leg over and settling onto his lap, she grins. “Thank you, love.”

Calum holds onto her hips, rubbing his palms down to her ass. “So you said this technically isn’t lingerie?”

“No--I don’t think so. But I think they could be--a small accessory to something I already have.”

They share a kiss, much too quick for Calum’s liking so he pulls her back in for more. And her arms wind around his neck as he continues to palm her ass. Here, he doesn’t really care what it is technically or not. She looks absolutely amazing. “I like it. In fact,” Calum starts, moving to grip her thighs before housing them both up and then plopping her down on the desk. “I really like them.”

Calum stands between her legs, nose brushing and bumping against hers. Here, she can feel her core aching as Calum’s fingers trail closer and closer to her heat. It’s feather light--his touch, but it makes her feel electric all the same. “Cal,” she hums.

“Yes baby?”

There’s nothing that comes out of her mouth but a small huff, a rushed and harsh exhale at the feeling of his fingers dancing across her skin. He grins pulling back just a little to see the way her face goes slack, almost as if she’s at peace with him between her legs.

“Was there something you wanted to say, darlin’?” Calum tries again, taking just a half step back away from her.

With her eyes still closed, she smiles. “I want to know,” she starts, exhaling softly to counter the thud of her heart in her chest, “if you’d so kindly want to make love to me?”

Calum can’t help his own small tuft of laughter. “Darlin’, I’d do so happily.” They don’t always wind up in bed like this--but it’s nice, to be comfortable even to be this forward with this and this open.

Calum takes her hand as she hops down from the desk. “Give me a twirl,” he asks. She obliges, turning in a circle for Calum, punctuating the back view by lifting her skirt up. “Silly girl,” Calum laughs, giving a firm but playful tap to her ass.

Facing Calum again, she wraps her arms around his torso. “But you love it.”

“I do. I love you.”

They share another kiss and she slowly walks backwards out of the room. They get lost in each other--Calum in the way she fits against him and her in the way Calum holds her, palms spanning across her back and tight enough that she wonders if he thinks she’s going to disappear but gently enough at the same time that she’d love nothing more than staying here forever in his hold.

Calum finds the zipper to the top and slowly drags it down. The material exhales, slowly falling away from her body and when it falls to the floor, he kisses her neck, down to the swell of her breast. Her moans are soft, just above a hum that makes just enough noise for him to hear. And it goes right to his gut.

Here there's very little need for words. When Calum gives, she takes happily. But when she tugs at his hair, Calum knows to step back, lets her give something to him. Her kisses are soft against his skin, but make him feel like it’s being set on fire. One that he’d happily stay in, let the blaze consume every inch of him, if it meant that she was always the one to take him.

His shirt goes to join hers. Her mouth teases his nipples as she descends further down on him. Calum thinks he sighs, all he can do is just shut his eyes and let go into the feeling of her teasing the cut of his hips beneath the sweatpants. She’s always like this, teasing him. At first, it used to annoy him. But now he loves it, loves just how close she’s willing to push him to the edge, push his buttons but always delivering at the end of it.

Her meticulous work, to watch him jump at every scratch of her nails and nip of her teeth, is enjoyable. But Calum blinks open his eyes to cup her jaw, which stops her. When her gaze lifts, Calum motions for her to stand. “Yes?” she grins standing to her full height.

Calum presses their foreheads together. “I missed you.”

“Well how dare I keep a man like you waiting?” With a slow kiss, tongues just barely dancing, Calum walks the two of them to the bed. The back of her knees hit the edge of it and she buckles just a little. Calum catches her from falling. “Turn around,” he whispers into her ear, “please.”

The instruction is obeyed and she spins to face the bed. Calum finds the zipper to the powder blue skirt and almost doesn’t want to take it off her. In the end, he does-- Calum lets the skirt fall onto a pool at their feet. Without even prompting she falls to her hands, ass grinding against his hips. He traces her spine with the pads of his fingers, following all the way down, over the curve of her ass and down to the opening in the panties. His fingers gather a bit of her arousal.

“Oh,” he groans. “So wet for me,” he hums with approval.

“Always for you,” she sighs. Calum teases her clit--a featherlight touch as he dances over her core. She lets herself fall a little bit more into the mattress--another moan leaving her lips when Calum takes one finger down from her clit to teasing her entrance.

Calum pulls away, bring his wet fingers to his lips and sucking them clean. “Taste just like heaven,” he hums. He gingerly guides her back to standing and uses her hips to get her to face him again.

More kisses are shared before they fall onto the mattress. Calum takes hold of one of the straps around her thigh and tugs her down, closer to him and she laughs. It gets caught off and morphed into a moan as Calum’s tongue licks a wide stripe up her. He’s careful of the mesh material of her panties, but knows that carefulness won’t last long. Not when her arousal coats his tongue. Not when her nails scratch over the muscles of his shoulders or tangle into the curls on his head.

She melts under the work of his mouth. The mattress merely becoming the vessel to hold the mess she’s bound to make and become. The room echoes the moans and slurps. Fingers gripping at the sheet, she chants Calum’s name. His tongue working magic over her core and just when she thinks she couldn’t possibly handle anything more, she notices the stretch at the addition of his fingers.

“Fuck,” she whines, lifiting one leg and he slips in even deeper, curling his fingers and hitting just the right spot.

Calum hungers for her pleasure--the high-pitched whine and groan as she releases. Some days it’s just the sound he needs to ground him. She gives short and breathless huffs, and quivers underneath him. “Gonna be a good girl?” Calum asks, fingers still pumping at her.

“Yes, oh yes, I will.”

“Gonna cum for me?”

“I want to, yes I’ll come for you. Make me your good girl.” Her voice sounds far away, as if she’s not fully cognizant of what she’s saying. Not quite babbling, but definitely talking so fast words bump into each other and slur together.

Calum grins, sucking at her clit again and she groans, head throwing back against the pillows. Her toes are curling--her whole body growing warmer with the passing second. The heat coils in her lower gut and she’s pleading. Though, she’s not sure who she is really meaning to plead to, but she wants to cum so badly.

Then it finally happens, one moment she’s sure she’s nearly in tears and the next, the coil snaps. She squeezes, hips raising off the bed and Calum continues to ride out her orgasm, gently pressing her back down into the bed. She hisses and starts to push at his shoulders, the signal that it’s too much. So Calum places one last kiss to her clit before pulling away from her glistening core.

Beneath him, eyes fluttering close, she looks angelic. Calum holds himself up above her and just watches the way she tries to collect her breath. “You’re beautiful, you know?” he whispers, not wanting to shatter the silence.

“No kidding?” she teases, winding her arms around his neck. The necklace dangles just a little in her face and she takes one hand to trace the chain. Hooking her fingers into it, she tugs Calum down to her. The taste of her arousal on Calum’s tongue makes her head spin. Calum caresses her side and stomach as the kiss deepens. Here is all they need--the soft and deep kisses, the moans that they swallow from each other.

Her hands leave from around his neck and begin to push down his sweatpants and underwear. And he lets her, even pulls back to kneel on his knees as she sits up. Their kiss hardly breaks and she’s quick to tug the cotton material down, hands wrapping around his length.

He groans at the squeeze--nothing too hard just enough pressure to make his whole body ignite. Her hand pumps him, once, then twice slowly and teasing him. “Baby,” he sighs, relishing the feeling of her hands working over him. The stay like that only for a minute or two before Calum pauses her to step down and full disrobe.

When he climbs back onto the bed, he crawls over her. “Welcome back, handsome,” she greets.

“Oh, it’s so good to be back,” he returns, grinning.

She runs her fingers over the tattoos decorating his chest, out of habit, out of something to ground her for a moment. There’s no way he’s real and it shouldn’t ever shock her like this. But sometimes it sneaks up on her and the realization of how madly in love she is with his man hits her all over again.

“What are you thinking about?” Calum asks.

“How much I love you,” she answers softly.

“I love you too,” he returns, bending down to kiss her. It’s soft and sweet--the kiss. For a moment, they just inhale the breaths of the other. It’s a tender moment, one that neither one wants to interrupt, so they let it linger, smiling at each other. She stretches up to kiss him, one hand trailing between their bodies and Calum catches the hint all too quickly when she traces along his length.

“I haven’t forgotten, love,” he exhales in a breathy laugh. “Trust me, I could never forget.” Once lined up, Calum’s slow to sink into her. One, he wants to drag this out, enjoy every inch of him that she grips of him. And two, because he wants to make sure that even in the lull that she’s ready to take him.

Her head falls back, hair pushing into the pillow and neck exposing itself to him. A tempting sight but Calum loses himself in the feeling of her wetness. He’s slow, pulling out just a bit before sinking further back into her. Her sighs and words of encouragement are soft from beneath him but they fuel him.

The pace quickens and both of them groan at the ecstasy. Out of reflex, she lifts one leg to readjust her hip flexor and Calum brings it up, resting her ankle on his shoulder. He kisses over the joint and the anklet, savoring just how much of her he can feel like this.

The chain dangles in her face, brushing in the valley of her breast and she revels in the feeling of Calum reaching the full depths of her body. She digs her nails into his flesh, more curses falling from her lip. But some of them get lost in the groans that win out. “God,” she huffs. “You’re everywhere.” And though it’s a bit of strain to get the words out because Calum’s pace is relentless as he snaps his hips into hers, she pushes the words out.

“You always take me so well,” he praises, watching the way her face contorts. “Oh, so soon, love? You’re going to cum again for me so fucking soon, like a good girl.”

Her whine slips out first but she nods, feeling the coil tightening yet again in her lower abdomen. Her body is hot, and she can already feel the prickle of sweat on her forehead. “Please, baby, please,” she begs.

“As you wish,” he hums, his own orgasm approaching faster than he anticipated. His body humming as the warmth spreads. The bed rocks just a little, hitting the wall and the sounds echo around them as they sigh and moan to each other. But the only thing that really matters to them, is each other.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, voice straining as she orgasms. No noise comes from her, but her mouth opens like if she had the breath she’d definitely be screaming his name. This time the quakes last longer, her whole body shaking. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he hums, bumping his nose against her jaw, still riding through her orgasm.

“Shit, oh my god,” she shudders, wrapping her arms around his neck.

There’s a slight hiss when Calum moves again, and he kisses over her face, starting with her nose and then moving to her cheeks. Another quake takes her and Calum, not anticipating it, groans-- his orgasm now right on the edge. It won’t be much longer, but she nibbles at his earlobe. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Made me feel so fucking good. I want you to cum in me. So fucking deep,” she hums.

And while Calum’s trying to get his own rebuttal to the tip of his tongue, she squeezes around him. “Fuck,” he yelps just a little, his body erupting with his orgasm. His body shudders and he’s so blindsided by the feeling, his slips just a little, more of his weight settling onto her than usual.

She doesn’t say anything, just hums at the feeling of him succumbing to the pleasure. “Oh, that’s what I wanted,” she encourages. It leaves her throat like a purr and Calum shivers again at the sound.

They lay together, for a moment, her nails scratching lightly at the muscles in his back. Calum sinks into her, body going heavy. Her slight shift squeezes around him and he groans, sensitive. “Don’t--I can’t,” he laughs.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” Even her own voice sounds heavy and slurred. She kisses his temple and Calum pushes up. He’s slow to pull out, enjoying the drips that follow of his own release spilling out of her. With one finger he gently scopes it back up and into her. The familiar twinge of desire pulls at his lower gut and it’s almost enough. She even shivers, but Calum watches the way her eyes stay closed.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Sleepy now,” she returns.

“Let’s get cleaned up first and then we can nap.” His voice sounds farther away towards the end of the sentence and she assumes he went to the attached bathroom. The rush of water from the sink confirms it. Something wet and warm presses against her--no doubt Calum with a warm washcloth.

The clean up is swift as both of them share a shower and then under the sheets, they curl up around each other. Calum kisses the top of her head as she nuzzles in closely. “I want pancakes after our nap,” she mutters.

“I think we still have some blueberries.”

She pops up onto her elbow and grins a little. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

Calum laughs. “Maybe just a little bit.”

#calum hood #calum hood fic #calum hood smut #calum hood fluff #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos smut #h writes #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer smut #5 seconds of summer fic

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la-fille-en-aiguilles · 3 years

Text

Dog Tags

Billy Russo x Female!Reader

Request by @nebulastarr : Hey! Whenever requests open up again, could you do a Billy Russo x Reader where the reader liked Billy but doesn’t want to tell him because she thinks he won’t feel the same way

A/N: I was going to wait and get down to writing this once I was finished with my series... But this one has simply hit a little too close to home. I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I saw it and I ended up putting a lot of personal stuff in it so I’m sorry if it feels chaotic at times. Thank you for requesting, love, I hope it lives up to your expectations. The Only Living Thing series will be back with its third part next week. The song: Isak Danielson - Power

All you heard was an excited scream, that raised above all of the New York’s past-6-pm commotion, as a slender tall body smashed into you, locking you in a bone-crushing hug. You laughed happily, albeit feeling a little bit uncomfortable in Karen’s strong hold. You knew it didn’t seem that way, but Karen packed a wicked punch in those elegant arms of hers. Those self-defense sessions with Frankie boy that she’s been gushing about over the phone must have been finally paying off.

“Once I am done hugging you, I am so kicking your ass,” she breathed out into your hair as she squeezed you harder, as if reading your thoughts. “You’ve been ghosting me for what, a month now?”

You sighed guiltily as Karen pushed you slightly away, keeping her hands on your shoulders. You watched her as she studied your face, a creeping smile stinging at the corners of her mouth.

Grabbing one of her elbows, you groaned dramatically, pulling her towards the busy road. With your hands locked, you finally admitted:

“I did suck at communicating these past couple of weeks. Work’s been…. hectic”, the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but this was the best explanation you’ve been able to come up with so far. “Please don’t kill me”.

Trying to keep up with your power walk, Karen let a bubbling laughter leave her lips.

“You’re not the one who should be worried then,” she gave you one of those bright trademark smiles of hers. “Next time I’m going to interview Russo, I’ll…”

You stuttered at her tirade as you walked, and of course it didn’t go by unnoticed. Karen was the best journalist you have ever met during your prominent career. She just sensed that sort of thing.

“I’m getting this ‘I-meant-to-tell-you-Karen-but-I-didn’t-and-now-you’ll-need-to-fight-it-out-of-me’ vibe”, she gave you a scrutinising look. “Want to maybe share whatever it is you’ve been not telling me before I go full interrogation mode on your plump backside?”

You rolled your eyes as you led her to a terrace-ringed Upper East Side high-rise, waving to the doorman through the glass doors. Jackson, a thirty-five year old ex-military with three kids and a labrador, gave you a brilliant smile as he hurried to open them for you.

“Good evening, Mrs Y/L/N!” He bowed his head in a stiff, very army-like manner. “A package arrived this afternoon for you, should I bring it up?”

From the corner of your eye, you caught Karen looking around, confusion written all over her face. You had a lot to catch up on.

“Don’t worry about it, Jax, just give it to me,” you didn’t mean to urge him, but you couldn’t wait to change out of your corporate attire into some comfortable old pyjamas and crack open a bottle of whiskey - that’s right, some habits did die hard. And to think you were a bubbles-kind of girl a year ago when you met him.

You could feel Karen’s blue eyes drill a hole in the back of your head as you took a small, envelope-sized package from Jackson’s hands.

It wasn’t until you both stepped into the elevator that Karen cleared her throat.

“When you said you’d rather have a girls’ night in, I asked Frank to pick me up from Queens, not from…here,” she spoke, her eyes skimming expensive red wood and mirrors. “Did you finally sleep with Russo and moved in with him?”

Whatever it was that Karen expected you to say to that, it definitely didn’t include you spitting out a roaring laugh, as you nearly dropped the package on the floor.

“Quite the opposite, actually,” you informed her after you finally restored your breath. “I left Anvil. And, well, Russo. At the end of last month”.

—

A half-bottle of whiskey for you and a bottle of white wine for Karen later, both of you were sprawled out on the lambskins thrown over the hardwood floor in your living room. Jazz music was seeping out of the speakers by the TV, a couple of Diptyque candles emitting a soft yellow glow.

You stared at the ceiling of your new living quarters, your mind a blur. As you folded your hands on your stomach, you felt Karen twitch as she bent her elbow and leaned her blond head on the palm of her hand, facing you.

“So let me get this straight,” she paused, narrowing her eyes. “After becoming the Forbes’ hottest CSO, concluding what can easily be described as deals of the century - especially the one with Anthony Stark aka Iron Man and his magnificent goatee…”

Involuntary, you giggled at this. This talk brought out some very dear memories that you wouldn’t trade for the world - the way Billy’s dark eyes shimmered in the dim lights of the opera house as he gave you a look that said you did it, ever the perfect team… Or the way he threw his arms around your frame, his long fingers sliding down your back… You knew you looked good in that dress, but the moment Billy saw you wearing it… You felt like the only girl in the world, the way his jaw dropped a tad, his lips opening up in awe…

Oookay, Y/N, can’t go there, your mind screamed at you as you wiped that dreamy smile off your face. Sitting down, you took your whiskey glass, and washed those memories away with a gulp of amber liquid.

Meanwhile, Karen ranted on.

“…you just quit?!”

She jumped to her feet all of the sudden, brushing her blond hair away from her face as she watched you excitedly.

“Jesus Christ, did Billy make a move?! He made a move on you, didn’t he?”

The urge to facepalm was fierce, almost overpowering, but you managed to resist. Slamming your empty glass against the floor harder than you intended, you gave her a bored look.

“No, Karen, why… Why in the world would you think that?” You sounded just a little short of desperate, so you cleared your throat. “I was his second-in-command, that wouldn’t have been appropriate…”

When you were done studying the flame, dancing within the glass walls of one of the nearby candles, you raised your eyes to meet Karen’s. She wore quite possibly the most blatant look of ‘you are shitting me’ on her face.

“So you just quit?” she stared at you in disbelief, unblinking. “No explanations provided?”

“This wasn’t how it happened,” you said, hating the fact that you felt like you had to justify yourself. You brought your knees closer, hugging them tightly. “I…”

—

“…I’m here to see William Russo”.  

With a nonchalant gesture, you unbuttoned your Burberry coat, looking at a red-head secretary behind a desk that screamed power and status with every inch of its epic proportions.

Anvil was certainly new money. With all of those hedge funds injecting their cash into emerging companies, there was no shortage of these - entrepreneurial endeavours that didn’t last long.

You didn’t know that at the time, but you were going to make sure this one would.

“My name is Y/N Y/N/L,” you added, perching your sunglasses on top of your head. “He’s expecting me.”

The red-head gave you a polite smile before checking something on her Mac.

“Welcome, Miss Y/N/L,” she almost seemed shy, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before standing up. “Mr Russo is indeed waiting for you. If you would like to follow me, please”.

As the redhead led you through the training grounds, packed with fit men and women that looked like they walked straight outta Gym Shark ad, you did notice a couple of vagrant stares in your direction. You couldn’t blame them. You looked slightly out of place; more Vogue than the setting allowed for.

You quit your job as the COO of a global FinTech company just weeks ago, looking for a new challenge. It was an adventure of a lifetime, and while your ex-executive board had literally begged you to stay, once you’d decided something, no promise of a generous promotion could make you change your mind. While you absolutely loved your job, working for one of the most prominent online payment giants in the world, it felt like it was time for you to step down. Due to all the processes and wise investments you’d initiated, the company could make millions of profits without their CEO having so much as to lift a finger.

And you, well, you lived for the hustle. And that’s exactly what you were here for.

You still had your doubts about Anvil’s owner and acting CEO, though. William “Billy” Russo had already become a household name in the financial circles, albeit the company he was spearheading had little to do with the FinTech space. Some said he had the potential to succeed; others badmouthed him for being ruthless and balancing on the very edge of legal limits.

In short, the man had you intrigued. So the very moment he called and invited you to drop by Anvil to talk strategy, you knew you had to meet him.

See the beast for yourself, so to speak.

The first thing you noticed about William Russo as you walked into his office, spacious and entirely transparent, with its glass walls overlooking the training grounds, was experience, for the lack of a better word. It was etched into his every handsome feature, especially into his scruff strong-willed jaw. As he raised his gaze to meet yours upon the red-head’s announcement, his black eyes swallowing you whole, you realized no light reflected on their surface. There was a certain confidence to him as he raised from his chair, his white shirt straining some over his chest, long dark strands of hair falling onto his long eyelashes. This man meant business, as those black impenetrable eyes zeroed in on yours. He almost seemed too flawless - to spotless to be an ex-marine, stained with blood and murder.

All that Hallmark handsomeness was nothing but a cover.

Before William Russo had even got a chance to open his mouth, you were determined to find out what was lurking underneath.

“Mrs Y/L/N”, the hot-shot gave you a polite smile. “Thank you for coming”.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Russo”, you didn’t move an inch. He may have invited you for interview, but he wasn’t the only one with a long set of demands.

You briefly wondered if he knew that.

Before your thoughts could take you further, William Russo made his way to you, composed and calculated. He stopped by your side, albeit for a moment; rolling the sleeves of his shirt further up, he shot the red-head a charming smile (nothing like the one he gave you).

“Olivia, would you please bring a fresh pot of coffee to the conference room? Mrs Y/L/N and I have a lot to discuss”.

When he turned back to face you, you noted unconsciously that he was taller than you expected, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders. The cool and composed look was back on his face as he motioned towards the doors.

“Would you like to follow me, Mrs…”

“Y/N”, you cut in with a slight raise of your chin. “I’d also prefer to call you William while I tear Anvil’s strategy down”.

His reaction didn’t disappoint. Some tension left his arms, his stung-up body relaxing just enough for a spark of mischief and curiosity flicker its way to his eyes’ surface.

A twinkle of a smile danced across his lips as he bit on the inside of his cheek, nodding ever so slightly in approval.

“It’s Billy”, he said, amusement echoing in his every word. "I don’t expect any leniency, Y/N”.

“Good”, you replied instantly, looking him straight into his eyes. “That’s not what I came here for”.

He nodded again.

And this time, there was liveliness in the quirk of his brow and a touch of insecurity in the corners of his mouth.

Now that was the man you could potentially work with.

—

Working with William Russo was anything but predictable. There were, however, certain patterns to his way of handling things. Whatever the trouble was, Billy was good at seeing the bigger picture - he was usually able to put things into perspective, but there were occasions when he refused to. You dare say that sometimes, you felt like he thought that money didn’t matter - like Anvil’s financial prosperity didn’t matter - as long as his team got not to risk their lives one extra time. You watched him turn down several lucrative deals that you’d busted your ass to put on his table, because it involved sending his men a little too far from home, in a place where he had no strings to pull whatsoever should anything go south. A part of you (the part that wasn’t frustrated as hell) admired him for that - it didn’t, however, stop you from disagreeing with him, time and again.

You may have never been to Iraq, and may have never known the horrors of sleeping with the bombs exploding a mere kilometer away, but you knew a game-changer when you saw it. There were risks involved, there was no arguing about that, but those were calculated, and those kind of deals could make Anvil jump straight to the top of the private military sector overnight.

William and you disagreed.

When William and you disagreed, no voice was raised, no blood was spilt, but Billy usually became distant, cold and just short of snappy when those conversations took place. 

He only crossed the line once.

  You were three months into your job as Anvil’s Chief Strategy Officer when Mayhew happened.

The clock on your desk showed midnight as you paced in your office, on the phone with Rex Mayhew, the U.S. Ambassador in Cairo. A cat-and-mouse game between the Egyptian Armed Forces and the nefarious arms dealer group had become common knowledge since a week or so; the U.S. special forces got involved in the conflict when it’d been discovered that the arms were being transported onto American soil. Rex, an old friend from your Yale days, had let you in on the fact that General Richard Ravelin, in charge of the operation, was looking to reinforce his rangs with private military before “neutralising the threat”. This was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, with a potential governmental recognition in play… and Billy wanted to hear nothing of it.

You were exhausted and barely hanging in there; Billy was categorical and stubborn.

You’ve dropped the phone on your table promising Rex you were going to give him an answer in two hours, tops. Taking a deep breath, you walked out of your office, your bare feet thudding on the parquet floors of the corridor. When you reached Billy’s hideout, you found the man leaning against his desk with a glass of whiskey in his unnerved hand.

“Billy…” you spoke firmly, barely stepping through the doorway. “Rex…”

“Can go fuck himself”.

Oh, okay. No sugarcoating this. Alright.

You saw his lips barely touch the amber liquid as he slammed the glass against the surface of his desk.

“I said no, Y/N,” he wasn’t facing you anymore, leaning on his desk with his hands digging into the wood, his back tense. “Please just go home. Have a good night sleep. We will talk about this tomorrow.”

You could have sworn you felt your head starting to fume. This was the third time Billy Russo was shutting you down. For the third time he was making you feel like an incompetent fool when you were trying to do your goddamn job.

Why in hell would he hire you if whatever vision you had for Anvil didn’t match with his own?!

“You could at least say this to my face, Billy,” you spoke a bit harshly before you could stop yourself. “You know, to my tired and disappointed face, with a mouth that you have been shutting up every time it offers you a deal of the century”.

This sounded so much better in your head.

“Why did you hire me?” you asked almost immediately, trying to soften the impact of the words that had already escaped. “If this isn’t the direction in which you want to take your company, maybe I should just…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Y/N, just fucking leave already!” Billy snapped like a branch that’s been holding too much weight, the sound of it dry and final.

…maybe I should just rethink the entire plan.

There was no point in finishing that sentence now, was there?

“I was there long before you came along, so I’d think I know a shitstorm in the making when I see one!” Billy was looking at you alright, brushing his hair back, his eyes black and void.

You had wished It would have been new to you - looking in William Russo’s eyes and not seeing him there. But it wasn’t. He was back to his Hallmark version of a man, but instead of playing a hero, he was now putting on his villain guise.

“Let’s get something straight here,” he leaned back on his desk, crossing his arms on his chest, his black eyes narrowed. “While you were making your way to the top of a rich-ass cookie-cutter FinTech company, I was crawling in the dirt in Iraq under a downpour of the Trident D5LE missiles. While the closest thing you’ve come to havin’ your hands dirty was bribing an investor or two, I was fucking beheadin’ people under the direction of the CIA,” his words were cold, measured and rhythmic, like a round of bullets being fired on a range. “You know nothing of what’s it like to be in the middle of that kind of shit show, princess, so when I fucking say no, you listen. Is that clear?”

Bark. Sit. Roll over.

“Crystal. Sir.”, you finally broke the heavy silence hanging in the air, just barely resisting the urge to salute him. “I’ll see myself out.”

Biting the inside of your cheek like your life depended on it, once you turned your back on him, your first thought was don’t you dare cry on his account, bitch and then almost right away wait at least until you’re home.

You could have sworn you heard William call your name in a stranded voice, but you made sure to slam the door somewhat hard as you left his office so you could pretend you didn’t hear him.

If you were to face him now, with all that power and toughness he exuded… You would never admit it, even to yourself, but you’d just end up on the floor, huddled into a shivering little ball.

—

You were grateful that the next day after the shit went down with Mayhew fell on a Friday. When you stumbled into your apartment in Queens at almost one in the morning, you immediately shot an email to the HR department asking for a day off. Once that’d been done, you dialled Rex to decline his offer to introduce Anvil to general Ravelin, washed the makeup off your face and crawled into bed, hugging the second pillow close to your chest.

You didn’t cry, if that’s what you’re wondering.

As you rolled out of bed in the morning at around 8 am, you took a shower and grabbed a coffee from the kitchen before settling behind your home office desk with a heavy head. When you opened up the Keynote presentation with your strategy outlined for the H1, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the iPhone you left on your couch last night.

You weren’t going to check if you had any missing calls.

There was nothing you had left to say to each other.

…with your chest hollow, you powered up the screen. There were no missed calls and no new messages.

It all looked like you had another strategy to build now. If Billy Russo thought that calling you a rich-ass princess that knew nothing of the world, all butterflies and rainbows, was going to make you resign, then man, was he in for a surprise.

You once heard one of his men compare you to a military convoy, when the guy thought you weren’t listening.

He had no idea.

You spent the morning refilling you coffee cup and rebuilding your H1 plan from scratch. After about eleven calls with the people you knew could get you a foot in the door of the offices of some government officials, billionaires and generals, after typing, deleting and typing again for 5 hours straight, by 2pm you had a solid game plan. You were pretty sure it would still need some tweaking from Castle, who essentially held the role of the Chief Operating Officer, dispatching men and women on missions and planning operations, and, well, from Billy Russo.

The Badass-ex-Sniper-turned-CEO himself.

You kept the email short and to-the-point, sending the document over to Russo with Castle on copy, saying you’d be in the office to debrief on Monday.   Refusing to check whether your email’d been opened, you slammed your MacBook shut.

The rest of the day rolled on uneventfully. You grabbed a coffee with the People Culture Officer from your previous company, who also happened to be one of your dearest friends; then you picked up your dry cleaners and did some shopping, cracking for a pair of new shoes in Saks Fifth Avenue.

Shoes were, indeed, your weakness.

By the time you got home, the tired sun was yawning, stretching its rays in one last effort before rolling into bed. Humming a Dua Lipa song under your breath, you were putting your new Jimmy Choo’s away when you suddenly heard your phone ring.

You didn’t even have to look at it to know who it was.   You checked the time, however, noticing is was two minutes after the official end of the working day.

“Hi, Y/N”, Billy spoke, clearing his throat. “Are you… Um… Any chance you’re available to meet tonight? I would really appreciate it if you could give me fifteen minutes of your time. Please.”

It sounded like the real Billy Russo was back around. Insecure. Rugged. Imperfect.

“Can you pick me up?” you asked softly, “I’ll text you my address. There’s a pizza place just around the corner, I could use a free slice”, you circled the cold coffee cup you left on the counter with your finger. “Free as in you’re paying, Russo”.

A laugh that came somewhere from within caressed your ear.

“Uh, yes, I’m actually… Yeah, thanks. I’m leaving the office now,” even if he tried to hide it, a shocked surprise still seeped through the cracks in between the vowels.

You chuckled silently at his reaction.

“Just one more thing,” you ventured, placing the cup in the sink and making your way to the balcony - your small piece of heaven with a wooden chair, pillows and lavender. As you stepped outside, you put oyour free hand on the railing, just to feel the coolness of it, the evening air and the gentle flower smell stroking your skin. “What kind of car should I be on the lookout for?”

Billy hesitated, biting his bottom lip, running his nervous fingers through the thick strands of dark hair. The setting sun was hitting him just from the right angle, making his sculpted cheeks look like they were made of marble.

“A Rolls Royce Wraith”, he squirmed, rubbing his forehead, probably realising how lame and pretentious it sounded. “I’ll call you once I’m downstairs”.

“Uh-huh”, you smirked, leaning on the railing with your forearms.

You saw Russo pinch the bridge of his nose, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip again.   Your small balcony provided quite a view, when you really thought about it.

“Don’t take too long”, you couldn’t help it, it really was stronger than you. “I’m starving”.

With a wide grin, you dropped the call and went back into your apartment.

You were planning to make him wait for ten extra minutes when he would finally “arrive”.

Just for the hell of it.

—

“That’s a lot of hot sauce for one pizza”, Billy commented, watching you spray your truffles and cheese generously with the piquant olive oil.

You gave him a mischievous smile.

“What can I say,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and licking the tip of your finger after you swept a drop of it from the top of the bottle. “I like them hot”.

That startled a laugh out of Billy as he eyed you with something in his irises looking a lot like awe.

Just when he was about to speak, a servant brought a glass of red wine for him and bottle of sparkling water for you.

You thanked the guy with a sweet smile, while Billy eyed him a bit coldly, obviously waiting for him to leave.

When the waiter had finally made himself scarce, Billy softly called your name.

You raised your eyes to meet him, struggling as hell to keep your stare vacant. (Which was hard to do with some foreign tightness in your throat).

“Before we dig in and I hope spend a nice evening as two friends, getting together on a Friday night”, he didn’t even blink? Was he blinking? You couldn’t tell, his black eyes swallowing you whole, again. “I want to apologise. I was completely out of line… It was unacceptable. You don’t need my validation, of course, but I still want you to know that you are doing a terrific job at Anvil, taking us to the heights I never even thought existed. It’s just… It’s hard for me sometimes to be a good CEO and someone who promised to take care of my men at the same time… Everything is happening so fast, I’m afraid to lose my footing.”

You reached out for his hand across the table before you could stop yourself. You didn’t take it, but your fingers brushed his ever so slightly before you realized what you were just about to do. Your eyes widened as you looked at him, searching for a reaction.   Billy remained perfectly still, not taking his eyes off you.

You grabbed a napkin next to his wrist, pretending this was what you had meant to do all along.   “We’ll get there, Billy”, you said, a small encouraging smile blooming on your lips. “We just need some tweaking”.

You weren’t sure if you were talking about strategy at this point anymore.

—

You had a great time at dinner.

(And a whole-hearted laugh as Billy finished your remainders of the truffle pizza, downing a litre of water to numb down the burning sensation in his throat afterwards).

You talked about your respective lives, your ex-colleagues, your hopes for the future… You dared think this who the real Billy Russo was.

And he was incredible.

After the two of you were done with dinner, you offered him to come upstairs to your place and go through the new strategy together. He didn’t hesitate, although you could swear you’d seen something ambiguous flash in the depths of his dark eyes before he nodded.

(You must have imagined it.)

The two of you ended up sprawled out on your soft faux fur carpet talking game plan, bouncing ideas off each other. You watched Billy frown, as he rubbed his mouth with his long fingers, smile in excitement and shake his head in awe when you voiced your ideas - you felt proud and appreciated, and you wouldn’t trade the sensation for anything in the world.

A couple of hours later the two of you had finally decided that it was enough brainstorming for one night, and you rose to your feet to go and make Billy a coffee before he got behind the wheel. As you pushed the start button on your coffee machine, you heard him speak over the noise.

“You know I’ve done four tours - three in Iraq and one in Afghanistan”, you popped your head up, only to see him play absentmindedly with something on his chest. “And every time I’m considering a mission for Anvil, I find myself back in there again… A part of a death squad.”

You carefully picked up his cup of coffee and made your way back to him. You didn’t say a word as you leaned lower to hand it over to him, encouraging him to go on.   Billy thanked you in a whisper before clearing his throat.

“Every time I have to send them somewhere, especially overseas, I force myself to stop and think… Is this really worth it? Is a fat check really worth putting the lives of my men and women in danger? And most importantly - you may think it’s stupid…” he avoided your gaze, staring into his coffee cup, a miserable smile on his lips. “I think, will it make a difference? If one of them dies on a mission, I have to at least know they made a difference… it’s selfish and it’s more about the peace of my own mind, but it is what it is, you know?”

When he looked up at you, his eyes were full, full to the brim. There was so much emotion in them, hatred, misery, hope, adoration, all whipped in a wild mix that was Billy Russo’s dark, velvet eyes.

“I carry these at all times,” the fingers of his free hand dropped to his chest, as he got a hold of something hanging around his neck. A necklace? “When in doubt, I just look at them - they help me remember where I’ve been and what I’ve done - and I just know if it’s worth it or not. The answer is usually no, by the way”.

He smiled again, the curve of his lips looking less haunted this time, as he sipped on his coffee.

Dog tags. Those were Russo’s dog tags.

“So they’re your reminder that, even being a badass CEO of a private military company”, you couldn’t help but feel some kind of zero gravity settling in your lower stomach as you saw him chuckle at your words. “…you still have a heart”.

“How poetic”, Billy teased you without missing a beat, putting the empty cup on the floor next to him. “But yeah. Sort of, I guess”.

As you fell asleep that night, you dreamed about explosions, piquant olive oil and holding Billy Russo’s dog tags in your hand.

—

The time flew by after that. In 8-month time (after some tweaking) Billy Russo and you became a team. It sometimes felt like nothing could stop you, as long as you were together.

It should not have come as a surprise that the two of you earned yourselves a catchy nickname - at first, it was spoken solely behind your backs, but soon enough it became some kind of a title, more powerful than that of the CEO or the CSO.

Anvil’s men and women (and especially Frank - the fact that he invented the nickname secretly tickled him pink) - were now calling you Bonnie and Clyde. The ultimate partners in crime, against all odds, doing the impossible.

The two of you also settled in an almost homely kind of routine. Ever since that Mayhew fiasco and the day that followed, Friday had become the non-spoken partners in crime day. What it meant in practice was exchanging Friday jokes on Anvil’s internal communications suite…

(Billy once attacked you with a “would you look at this, just found the actual footage of your interview @ Anvil”. Before you even got a chance to answer, he forwarded you a cheesy meme with two old women speaking to each other, one of them saying “We need someone who can do the job of two men”, and the other responding “oh, so it’s only a part-time job then”. When you shot him back a message asking whether he really considered himself an arthritic old woman, that seemed to have shut him up).

…grabbing a beer in a bar nearby…

(you sometimes invited your colleagues to join you, plus it was an unspoken rule that Frank and Karen were to be there as well)

…you making fun of Billy Russo’s eating habits…

(It was honestly a nuisance to have a lunch with him. The list of things he refused to eat went on and on: no asian food, no food chain restaurants (even high-rated), no soups, no cheesecakes… He sure was settling well in that peaceful life he earned after spending all those tours living off canned food).

…and just overall enjoying each other’s company.

By the time the ninth month of your being Anvil’s CSO had rolled in, you couldn’t imagine not seeing Billy Russo every day. Not noticing him rolling his eyes at a smart-ass comment you or Frank made, or his orbs lighting up every time you told him the deal with that or this decision maker had gone through. You simply could not understand how you managed to live day in and day out, and think you were genuinely happy, before you actually met Billy. Everything before him just faded away somehow, your memories lost their colour and spike in comparison to the life you were living now. You kicked ass at your job, your career thrived, but most importantly, you were feeling like this was exactly where you were meant to be, braving the obstacles by Billy Russo’s side, knowing he would catch you should you fall.

He would, wouldn’t he?

It was your usual Friday night outing, the seven of you - Billy, Frank, Karen, Curtis, James from legal, Ashley from mine clearance and yourself - occupying your usual table at Whimsy, the bar that must have made 90% or their revenus off of Anvil’s folk. It was just around the corner from the headquarters, after all.

The overall mood of the evening was rather nostalgic. It’d been four weeks since you’d lost a team member in a crossfire in Falluja, Iraq. After everything was said and done, his loss still hung heavy in the air, and it felt right to get one more drink in Jasper’s honour. The conversation flowed easily, even though the topics you’d spoken about were anything but.

“I remember how I felt when I lost Andy”, Ashley nursed her beer as she stared into the distance. “I just literally had the weight of the entire world on my shoulders, pinning me to the ground, I just couldn’t move on”, she finished her bottle in one go and motioned for the bartender to bring her another one. “Sometimes, I just ask myself, what would have I done if I’d known he was going to die the next day? Would I have stopped him from going? I think I would,” she thanked the bartender as he put the beer in front of her, her eyes a bit foggy. “Yeah, I definitely would have.”

Frank grasped Ashley’s shoulder and squeezed it hard in a comforting gesture; Karen gave her a tender look.

You didn’t know why your mind had gone there, but all of the sudden a memory of Billy sitting in his office chair, laughing his ass off at some offhand comment you’d made flashed before your eyes; it quickly got replaced by the recollection of his hand brushing against yours during the Zoom meeting you’ve had with general Warren Singer; then you remembered him putting his hand on the small of your back, staring daggers at some army brat wanting to join Anvil, eyeing you like a piece of meat (you learned later that day that the man’d been thrown out before having a chance to introduce himself); until finally, your brain stopped dead at the picture of Billy running his nervous fingers through his hair as he called you from his car, telling you he was only leaving the office.

What would you do if you knew he was going to die tomorrow?

Your heart sunk at the thought as you gulped hard, ducking your head and staring at your hands folded in your lap.

A soft touch enveloping your elbow had you facing the man of the hour, his black eyes shimmering with concern.

“Are you okay?” he half-whispered, half-mouthed, not letting go of your hand.

No.

Nothing is okay, Billy.

I’m so happy that I met you, but you’re scaring the hell out of me.

I never wanted any form of eternity until now, I never saw the point…

So stay. Please, stay forever, and feel something for me, too.

“Yes. I’m fine,” you whispered back, staring into his eyes, hypnotised and helpless. You watched him turn away from you as if in slow motion, the warmth of his hand leaving nothing behind but emptiness in your bones.

“Here is to always telling the things that matter to the people who matter”, Billy spoke firmly, raising his beer. “Here’s to never missing a chance to open up to the people we love”.

Well, if this was his way of crossing the t's and putting the dots to the i’s regarding his feelings for you, he couldn’t have been clearer.  

As far as confessions of love went, this one was non-existent.

—

You tried, time and again, to convince yourself you had to go. You learned the hard way that your unrequited feelings were feeding on a sort of inadvertent parasitic relationship where every moment of your day depended on the level of Billy’s unintentional emotional indifference. Your days were spent questioning his every move - every look and every touch; until, the grown-ass woman that you were, you’d commanded yourself to stop second-guessing everything - stop feeling - and decided your best course of action would be… to work yourself into the ground.

If Billy ever noticed anything, he didn’t show it - your were still you, after all, working hard, laughing when he said something funny, calling him out on his bullshit when needed. He didn’t notice slight change in your eyes, when their icy surface cracked at every other compliment he threw in your direction (and there was no shortage of those). He didn’t realize the smile you gave him was different from those tightlipped signs of appreciation you gave to Anvil’s potential clients, he didn’t think twice about the reason for which you glowed around him, your every move softening, your every gesture emanating warmth.

Because Billy hadn’t really known you until you started to have feelings for him.

You knew this couldn’t go on forever. This entire situation was bound to result in some explosion of nuclear proportions, and then all hell would break loose. You needed to get yourself out of this situations, but you just… couldn’t. You couldn’t imagine your life without Billy Russo. You couldn’t leave him.

Even if being friends with him meant tearing yourself apart and suffering in silence.

  Long story short, you waited with fear in your bones for someone to walk into your life and to get you out. You’ve had no fight left in you to do it yourself.

Your salvation came in the form of a phone call on a Friday evening, when Billy was on a recruiting mission in California.

You were typing back a response to his cheeky message when the call cut in half-sentence.

Billy Russo: Please remind me to take you with me instead of Frank next time? He’s driving me insane trying to set me up with the ladies from the Organising Committee. Any ideas on how I can calm him the fuck down?

You: Sorry, Billy, but recruiting is out of my mission scope. As for the calm down part, try bondage maybe? :)

Billy Russo: I’m going to pretend you did not just suggest I engage in sexual practices with Frankie. Karen will have my balls.

Billy Russo: But perhaps you’re right. Taking you with me is probably not a good idea. Wouldn’t want my new recruits’ brains to turn into mush because of how beautiful you are.

You: The flattery will….

“Hello? Y/N speaking”, you brought your phone close to your ear, your cheeks still a lovely shade of pink. If you were going to feel miserable when Billy came back, acting like nothing happened, you were sure going to make the best of that fuzzy feeling in your chest right now.

“Miss Y/N/L”, a smooth deep voice greeted you, and you could have sworn you’d heard it many times before. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”

Frowning in an attempt to remember, you urged:

“No, not at all. How can I help you?” you stared into the screen of your Mac, wheels turning in your head as you silently catalogued all the men you were in discussions with regarding a deal. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Oh, how rude of me”, the man chuckled but there was no mockery in his voice, more like self-depreciation. “Tony Stark, from Stark Industries”.

Your mind went blank. Did you hear his last words correctly?

“Uh… Mr. Stark”, you quickly got a hold of yourself - well, as quickly as you could. “I appreciate you reaching out to me directly. What can Anvil do for you?”

You did a pretty bang-up job trying to mask your amazement with polite cheerfulness, and Stark had caught on that.

Tony Stark just called your cellphone number. What in the world?…

“We don’t really do alien invasions”.

Ohyourgod, did you just say it out loud?!

His uproarious laughter took you by surprise, reverberating through your entire body. It took every ounce of your self-control not to giggle in response.

“That’s a good one, I love it”, Stark finally said, restoring his breath. “And the better question would be, Y/N - can I call you Y/N? - what you can do for me”.

Before your brain could take you into some naughty direction, freaking Iron Man cleared his throat.

“Okay, this came out wrong,” he admitted with a sense of self-irony. “I um… I’m looking for the Co-Chief Executive Officer for Stark Industries. Well, Virginia Potts is actually looking for a Co-CEO, I’m just her errand boy. And my missions apparently include recruiting…. Anyway,” it was a bit of a challenge to follow Anthony Stark’s train of thought, but you were also still shocked, so that could explain it. “…I think you are the perfect fit for the job”.

You just stared into the screen front of you, your breathing barely audible.

“Mrs Potts and I would love it if you could swing by the A-Tower, let’s say, on Thursday? You’ll be surprised, but I can also whip up a mean cup of coffee…”

Say something.

Fucking hell.

Say something!…

“Thursday sounds great,” you blurted out without thinking. “Let me just shuffle my schedule around… I could stop by after lunch?”   Your hands were slightly shaking as you clicked on your mouse, opening your schedule window.

“Whatever works for you, Y/N”, you could hear Stark smile. “Not to sound like a creep, but I’ve been following your career for quite a while now, and I think that the work you've done in such a short span of time for Anvil is outstanding, even though you still don’t offer protection from alien invasions”.

That made you chuckle, pushing you halfway out of your stupor.

“I’ll put that on the list of things for us to consider”, you promised.

"Tell Mr. Russo I sent my best,” Stark added, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “I actually might have some ideas for how we could collaborate. Let's discuss this on Thursday, too, shall we?”

After you said your goodbyes, you fell back in your chair, dropping your iPhone on the table.

You: The flattery will….

...get you nowhere.

You never finished that message, leaving Russo on Read.

—

Starting with that evening, things were moving fast - too fast for you to keep track.

After a three-hour long coffee and the tour of the A-Tower, Virginia Potts, the acting CEO of the Stark Industries, had offered you the job - just like that - and asked you to come back to her executive assistant should you wish to take the job, with your salary expectations and the information about your notice period. You thanked her for her time and promised to get back to her as soon as you made your decision.

Virginia Potts was a brilliant woman; but running a company like Stark Industries while being equipped with a vagina was certainly no walk in the park. Sexism was still very much present within the Boards of the Tech Businesses. You understood perfectly well why she wanted a woman in her corner - it would have been a massive slap in the Board’s face, but it was also about having someone to lean on, who just understood.

In any other circumstances you would have peed your pants in excitement. It was an opportunity to work for Stark Industries - no, scratch that - it was an opportunity to step in as a Stark Industries co-CEO. The idea of it still made you dizzy.

…but as you looked at Virginia’s email sent to your personal address thanking you for stopping by, your eyes were swimming with tears.

You weren’t ready to leave Billy.  You just couldn’t.  You couldn’t leave him.   There was no epic finale to your story. There was no big revelation, no closure, no moment of relief, no acceptance, nothing. Only a fat-ass what if.

And you didn’t know how to let go of a what if with Billy Russo.

And that was exactly why you had to do it.

You heard Billy come in the next Monday earlier than usual. He was positively humming Usher’s Yeah! quietly as he made his way past your office’s doors straight into his own.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’ve been psyching yourself up during the entire weekend, telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal, we wouldn’t even flinch when you were going to tell him.

You had to tell him.

As you stood up from your chair, straightening you skirt with the palms of your hands, you suddenly heard the footsteps coming back in your direction. You froze in place like a deer in headlights when Billy swung open the door to your office, a box of Pierre Hermé macarons in his hands.

Your goddamn favorite Pierre Hermé macarons.

“You’re here!” Billy’s warm smile illuminated the room. “So much for a surprise, huh?”

He shook the box carefully in the air. You stared at it, dumbfounded, every single thought leaving you.

You couldn’t breathe.

In the hazy morning light seeping through the windows of your office, Billy looked beautiful and dissolute, shirt open at the collar, longer strands of dark hair falling into his eyes.

He was going to be the death of you. It really wasn’t fair.

“Billy, I have to tell you something.”

Was it you who spoke those words? They seemed distant and cold, so uncharacteristically detached.

Blood roared in your ears.

“What’s wrong?”

Billy’s reaction was instant. In three decisive steps he closed the distance that separated you, leaving the macarons on your desk. He stood still just mere inches away, and just like during your very first meeting, you had a fleeting thought cross your mind: you really were tiny next to him, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders.

You bit the inside of your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure. He stared at you unblinking. He wasn’t touching you, but it felt like his eyes were looking straight into your soul, undressing you, blowing that wall you built around yourself into dust. They were taking you down, piece by piece, determined to see what you’d been keeping from him.   Because, of course, he knew. He should have known something was going on. Hence the surprise this morning.

He had no idea what it was though.

“Maybe you should sit,” you said, making a physical effort to tear your eyes away from him, feigning sudden interest in the buttons of his shirt.

  That chest…

  …was going to be just fine. He didn’t feel the same way you did. He would just find someone else to fill your position. With brilliant women stalking him - in cooperative packs - that would not be a problem.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you”.

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as his words reached your ears.  Fucking hell, you should have done that by phone. Or with other people around. You should have…

“You’re leaving”, you heard Billy repeat as his voice broke a little. He stepped away, burying his face in his hands as he dragged them down his jaw and neck, staring into the ceiling.

“Billy, listen, I…”

You were the one to close the space between the two of you this time, and before you could think too much into it… You threw your hands around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

The sensation struck you like a bolt of lightening when you felt his hands cross behind you back and pull you closer.

He smelled heavenly. Like a forest fire, a hint of smoke with oud and pine. You inhaled deep, deeper still, losing yourself in his comforting touch.

In his arms, just for a second there, you felt home.

“You… The company doesn’t need me anymore”, you nearly choked on words, screaming internally at yourself to keep the waterworks at bay. “It’s thriving, there’s not much else I can give you. My job here is done.”

I need to leave because your indifference is destroying me, and when I think I’m ready to let go, all it takes is one look from you, and I’m back to wanting you, to settling for anything you give me, like a goddamn fool.

“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?!” Billy exclaimed, his hands grasping your shoulders as he distanced your bodies just enough for him to look into your eyes. “I nee- The company needs you! I was… You know, I was planning to make you the CEO of Anvil in a couple months time,” his smile, as earnest as it was, did not reach his eyes. “Yeah”, noticing your eyes go wide in shock, he let his hands slide down your sides. “You’re so much better at it than I ever was. I was going to join Frank and just manage operations… under you”.

You just stared at him, dumbfounded, not feeling a stray tear escape your eye and rolling down your cheekbone.

“These are the tears of happiness, I hope”, Billy added, and you barely registered his touch as his thumb wiped the salty drop off. “Well, I guess Anvil will have to settle for the little old me. With my best girl going places."

You gave him a strained smile before you carefully wiped your cheeks, just taking a moment to look at him. To try and read him.

Billy Russo was a goddamn ceiling. Plain white, cool and unattainable. In all of your time working for him, you have never seen this Hallmark version of him before. Which one was it?  

Oh wait, you guessed you knew. The happy-for-you friend.

“So where are you going?” Billy asked, his eyes empty. “Who snatched you away from m- Anvil?”

The stutter was so subtle you barely noticed. You were finally tired of reading into shit.

“Stark Industries. I’ll be their co-CEO”.

—

Before you left Anvil you promised yourself you’d get the deal with Stark Industries up and running. There was no one in the world you trusted more in terms of security than Billy.

(The fact that you couldn’t keep your heart safe from him didn’t really count, did it?)

As a matter of fact, Billy and you were going to shake hands with Anthony Stark on the deal on your last night of being Anvil’s CSO. It was happening in The Metropolitan Opera and required both Billy and yourself to dress for the occasion.   He promised to come pick you up at 6pm sharp; you were putting on the Jimmy Choo’s you’d bought a coulee months ago in Saks Fifth Avenue when you heard a low knock on your door.

Straightening up, you threw a quick glance at your reflection in the mirror. You decided to go with a long Marchesa black velvet gown with a rather deep V-line, a pair of long diamond earrings and an elegant half-up half-down hairdo, soft curls in the front framing your face.

“I’m coming”, you yelled out, picking up your leather jacket (because why the hell not) and your purse from the kitchen counter. Sharply opening the entrance door, you realized moments later that you didn’t even take time to prepare yourself for seeing William Russo in a tux.

If you weren’t already half in love with him, the sight before your eyes would have sealed the deal.

God-fucking-damn, like he needed any help being unforgettable.

With a black jacket thrown on a crisp white shirt with a couple of buttons undone and the tie hanging loosely around his neck, Billy was here to make a statement, to leave a mark. His hair was coiffed back in his usual style; honest to God, he looked like he just stepped out of the Man of the Year special GQ edition…

Just when your thoughts were about to switch to the way you must have looked next to him, ridiculous in your simplicity, like you refused to make an effort…

…Your eyes met his.

And the way he looked at you was so intense, his big black eyes with galaxies in them probing into yours, his strong jaw slack. There was beauty and tragedy reflecting in those orbs, but only just for a second - just for a second, he looked at you the way he probably looked at the sky he could never reach. Just for a second, he looked at you the way that made your heart beat twice as fast, like the world could crumble all around him and he still would not have blinked.

Would not have taken his eyes off you.

“Wow, Y/N, you look… You look beautiful”, he finally said. “I just can't spot a part of you that beats the other.”

Something in your chest exploded silently.

“Thank you, Billy,” you smiled at him - a genuine and happy smile, because you felt on top of the world with his adoring eyes on you. “You’re quite a catch yourself”.

Before you could scold yourself for your choice of words, you stepped out of your apartment and locked the door behind you.

“Shall we?” Billy offered his hand to you, without hesitation it seemed.

“We shall”, you replied instantly, slowly sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow.

And, just like always, you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.

—

The crowd in the opera was so posh, the looks all the women had been throwing you first made you question your choice of outfit. It’s after overhearing their conversations that you realized, the reason they stared daggers at you was the man that kept by your side no matter where you went.

Virginia and Anthony welcomed you at the buffet with sun-stained sincere smiles. After a short small talk, Anthony Stark informed you both that he had signed the contract earlier today, thus officially giving Anvil an exclusive security deal with Stark Industries. As of now, Anvil was the only company allowed on the Stark Industries’ premises in the quality of guards and protection officers.

The look Billy and you exchanged spoke volumes; while your eyes were sparkling with excitement though, screaming “we did it!!”, his bottomless black eyes were whispering “thanks to you”.

The four of you then shook hands and went through rounds of gratitude and appreciation; when a pleasant woman’s voice announced the imminent start of Onegin, inviting the guests to go to their seats. Virginia immediately took you hand, leading you straight into the Opera house, saying something about leaving men to finish their drinks. You threw Billy a laughing look over your shoulder, mouthing “come join me” before disappearing out of his sight.

“So on the scale of one to ten, how pissed at me are you, Mr. Russo?”

Billy turned his head sharply to a side, leaning on the high table, and spotted Anthony Stark himself, nursing a glass of whiskey. “For taking your queen away from you? Excuse the chess metaphor, but that woman”, Stark took a sip of his whiskey and savoured it before swallowing it down. “Is a goddamn queen.”

Billy chuckled, straightening up, digging his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“That, she is,” he whispered, his eyes still piercing the spot in the crowd where your smiling face was mere minutes ago.

—

When the opera ended, both Billy and you couldn’t be more relieved - because both of you hated it with passion.

Exchanging meaningful glances in the dark during the singers’ performances now and then, you had to bite your tongue in order to not just ask Billy if you could maybe sneak out. Russo proved to be more stoic than you, carefully covering your hand with his in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You didn’t look at him once after that, afraid to say or do something that would make him remove his hand.

How much more pathetic could you get?

When the performance was over, Billy led you out of the opera house without saying a word, his hand hugging carefully the small of your back.

His silence was unnerving. You didn’t know what to make of it. Should you have shaken his hand off back in the darkness of the concert hall? Or should you have caressed it with your thumb?

Your mind was spinning in circles by the time he opened the door for you and you slid into the front passenger seat of his Rolls goddamn Royce.

When he got in the car and gripped his steering wheel, you reached out and placed your hand on his whitening knuckles.

“Billy,” you spoke softly, barely audibly. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” he whispered back, turning his head to a side to face you. His black eyes stared into yours, looking hypnotised and helpless. “Everything is fine.”

It didn’t take a degree in Psychology to see that he was lying. You could feel his gaze on you as you turned away from him, taking your hand away at the same time.

Billy started the car. The revving engine filled the silence, loaded with the unsaid words.

—

“…he then walked me to my door, we exchanged our goodbyes. And that was it,” you finished lightly, looking back at Karen.

Her eyes were red as she stared at you, unblinking.

“Unbelievable…” she whispered. “So you never told him?…” her lips barely moved.

You sighed.

“Have you ever felt like you’re potentially in love with someone? Like, you don’t actually love him, you know you don’t, but one day you realise that you could? You realise just how easy it would be for you to fall in love with him? With all the teasing and the banter, the play hitting each other, calling each other names, just…. You start to pick up on little things - like if you listen closely, in every shut up, there’s a barely-there ring of I could love you.”  You shifted on the floor a little, and Karen watched your memories transport you somewhere else again. While physically your were here, in your apartment - with your fluttering eye-lashes, uneven breathing and loaded expression - mentally, you were somewhere else.

“….You probably don’t notice it at first, but your body is drawn to him. Every accidental or absentminded touch…” you continued quietly. “And there’s that twinkle in his eyes when he looks at you and it messes you up, because - what’s going on with you? What the hell does it even mean? Are you imagining shit? You’re trying to make sense.”  

Karen didn’t interrupt, still staring at you as if she were seeing you for the first time

“I mean, he didn’t ask for any of it, you know?” you finally raised your foggy stare at Karen, as if searching for confirmation. “Maybe he just did something dumb one day, smiled at you or said something that seemed important and then all of the sudden you’re full on Looney Tunes, seeing stuff that isn’t there?”

Your words barely audible, you swallowed hard, before continuing.  “…I just kept looking at him with what ifs, and could haves, seeing all that goddamn potential. It’s so fucking twisted. Over-analyzing everything? Waiting for a sign?…” you chuckled bitterly all of the sudden. “…I was so fucking scared of reading too much into it, of crossing that line, because… It would be so easy!… Falling in love with him would have been so easy.”

Oh sweetheart, Karen’s eyes glowed with comfort as she reached out for your hand and squeezed it softly. But you already are in love with him.   

A loaded silence ripped through the air in your living room. The sound of an engine revving somewhere close squeezed its way through the slit of an opened window, and it seemed to break the trance.

Both Karen and you shuddered, and as you took in the realisation Karen’s eyes just bestowed upon you, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“It’s pretty late,” Karen spoke up, reading you like an open book. She knew it was her cue to leave the stage. You needed time to process. “Frank is in a bar nearby with Curtis, let me just give him a call, okay, sweetheart?” she gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze. “You know where to find me when you need me”.

“Yes”, you responded, blinking tiredly. “Thank you so much for coming, Karen. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that…”

“Shut the hell up,” the blonde advised, raising her eyebrows. “But honestly, Y/N, please call me once you… come to terms with things, okay?”

You nodded.

When Karen left, leaving the sweet and pleasant smell of her perfume behind, you closed the door behind her and turned around, leaning on the cold wood and metal with your eyes closed.

It’s been a month. This was supposed to pass by now. Billy was supposed to stop inviting himself into your dreams. You were supposed to heal.

You may have just realized you were in love with the man instead.

Letting out half a moan, half a groan, you peeled yourself from the door slowly, and brushed your hair back, wanting nothing more than to fall face-first into bed.

After you at least cleaned up a bit and put out the Dyptique candles, that is.

As your eyes scanned your living room in an attempt to asses the size of the job at hand, you stopped mid-way, zeroing in on the box Jax gave you earlier in the evening. It rested silently on the kitchen table.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you made your way to the kitchen area. Grabbing the package, you turned it around, looking for any indication of the sender.

The package wasn’t even stamped.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you took a moment to grab a knife from one of the drawers, and carefully swished it between the two cardboard sheets.

Flipping over the envelop, you heard something fall out of it before you could actually see it. A small sheet of paper floated in the air before falling on the surface, partially covering whatever fell out of the package.

Your heart squeezed the second your brain identified the object, attached to a worn silver chain.

With trembling fingers, you slid two metal pieces from under the paper, covering your mouth.

Finding their home in the palm of your hand, Billy’s dog tags shimmered in the dim candlelight.

Squeezing them in between your fingers, you grabbed the paper with your free hand, your eyes staring at one single sentence scribbled on its surface.

“You took my heart with you”.

#billy russo x you #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo angst #billy russo fanfic #billy russo story #the punisher imagine #billy russo imagine #the punisher story #billy russo request

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cloudy-leonhart · 3 years

Note

I JUST READ YOUR VETERANS WITH FILIPINO S/O AND IM SO PROUD WCEIWVEHHW, can i also request a veteran reaction to like, their s/o gets flirted with a guy and their s/o is totally oblivious. (also, nanaba is very cute, ate nana 😭✊)

wait but this is such a good request 🥺 maybe that’s just me, I like jealous headcanons lmao-

———

AOT VETERANS JEALOUS HCS WITH OBLIVIOUS S/O!!

[author note: I have a few fic requests in my inbox rn! Please dw if u requested a fic, it takes me a little longer to write fics than headcanons so please don’t think I’m ignoring your request! I also had to rewrite this, I had a bad weekend and tumblr keeps deleting my drafts but I still want to provide for my followers, so I apologize that it’s only half of the veterans! I’ll add Nanaba and Moblit once I do get the motivation too! ]

Summary: S/O get’s flirted with, vets are big jealous babies.

Gender Neutral Reader.

Recommended Song: How Long - Charlie Puth.

TW: some swearing, suggestive themes, yucky boys hitting on you.

Theme: Fluff, canonverse.

Characters: Erwin, Hange, Levi, Miche.

Erwin Smith

Honestly even he couldn’t tell at first that the noble man (lets call him, Gene.) you were talking to was flirting with you.

You were absolutely oblivious, you think Gene is just having a conversation with you and Gene thinks you like him.

When Erwin notices it, at first he’s like “hmm, maybe Reader’s talking business with him.” And then Gene kissed the back of your hand, in which he felt his eye twitching. He started pouting really bad, he looked like a kicked puppy from across the ballroom. He didn’t want to be rude, so he kept reassuring himself that it was a friendly gesture.

You were absolutely clueless, like “this is fine.” clueless. You had no idea Gene was trying his hardest to court you. Until You felt Erwin behind you, that is.

You know those big coughs that you do to get someone’s attention. Yeah, Erwin coughed REALLY loud. Mind you, Erwin probably towers most nobles. So imagine the face on Gene when he saw this tall, titan-slaying commander towering over him. I think he almost peed his pants honestly, he was like “uh..it was nice meeting you, miss Last name, but uh..I- I uhm.. Igottago-“

Yeah he speed-walked his scared ass outta there, you were kinda just like “what?” You saw Erwin’s shadow and just turned around with the cutest smile on your face.

“Erwin!” You chirped, he softened his glare on the noble and looked at you, cue his pout coming back. “You really didn’t know?”

“Know what?” You asked, walking with him, hand in hand. You guys were walking back to your carriage to go home for the night.

“Reader, he was flirting with you, quite literally trying to court you.” Erwin groaned, his jealousy starting to show. You were still a bit confused, so you just stared at him with a blank expression.

“He was just being nice Erwin, come on.” You nudged his arm, trying to get him to loosen up, he looked at you, in which you looked at him with puppy dog eyes, in response he groaned, being a sucker for your puppy dog eyes.

He huffed, “you’re staying back at the headquarters from now on.” Your eyes widened slightly, “What?! Why?!” You shook him arm. “Because I don’t want you being flirted with, you’re mine reader, and I’m yours.” Erwin squished your cheeks together.

“Owf Cwouse I’m youws-“ you took his hands off your cheek. “You’re the only man for me,” you laughed as you entered the carriage.

“Now get in, I’m feeling a little empty inside and you’re the only who can fix that.”

Levi Ackerman

Oh dear, if you’re willing to flirt with the Levi Ackerman’s S/O, you’re basically asking for a death wish.

He usually isn’t too jealous when it comes to someone flirting with his S/O genuinely because he’s either busy doing something or he isn’t there at all but...

He’s not called Humanity’s Strongest for nothing. Both of you were in charge for training the cadets. You were known for your kind behaviour, so obviously a lot of the cadets would ask for your training.

In which Levi was okay with because, duh less work for him. He was doing fine until he glanced at you and saw a male cadet getting a little too close. (calling him, Sam.)

You guys were in a secret relationship at the time, he didn’t want anyone teasing you or him about anything so both of you kept it a secret.

See, he regrets that decision right now because it’s really a pain in the ass to see Sam acting like he doesn’t know the moves when he knows damn well he taught the brat those moves a week ago.

So with a clenched jaw, he glared at Sam as you were behind the cadet, teaching him the same move Levi taught him.

Levi looked across the field to see you behind Sam, helping him strike his punch correctly, he felt angered and a little jealous, watching you be so touchy with him.

He sighed and shook his head, trying to calm himself to keep him from doing something, that is until he watched as Sam tripped you just so he could “catch” you. He caught you in those romantic poses.

You weren’t really paying attention to what he was trying to achieve and instead thanked him, unaware of his plan to kiss you. You tried to get out of Sam’s hold, until you realized that Sam was getting close to you.

You were about to start freaking out until someone pulled you into their arms, you looked at your “saviour”’s face, seeing it’s Levi. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing to a section commander, cadet?” Sam gulped, walking back. “Just making sure captain Reader’s okay, captain Levi.” Sam saluted, sweating profusely.

“That requires you tripping them and almost kissing them?” Levi’s eyebrow raised as his arm tightened against your waist, that’s when a lightbulb lights up in your mind, ‘Is..is Levi jealous??’ “uh well-” Sam tried to explain himself, “I taught you this move last week, you have no excuse to ask for captain Reader’s help.”

A scowl was long planted on Levi’s face. Sam scoffed, “Okay, so I wanted to court captain Reader, but Sir, they’re single, you can’t blame for wanting to court them.” Levi took a step forward, you prevented him from beating Sam up.

“They’ve got a boyfriend.” He spat out, basically death staring Sam down. “And who’s that?” Sam laughed out.

Levi clicked his tongue, before you knew it, Levi’s lips were on yours. “Me.” He stated.

Hange Zöe

Hange, they usually are chill most of the times, to be honest they don’t get too jealous, it’s only when it’s painfully obvious, that’s when it starts to tick them off.

I mean, making Levi Ackerman mad is one thing, but Hange?? I’m already planning your funeral. One of the corps’ rules, never ever make Hange Zöe mad.

It does not help when their S/O absolutely is oblivious.

Hange starts off with being a little skeptical and glancing at you from afar. then it becomes a stare once in a while, and then their mood gets soiled.

they start to become irritated, at this one garrison squad member (let’s name him Avery) talking with you. You should actually be helping them with their experiments.

And they snap when they see you being offered a flower.

Little clueless Reader, just confirmed Avery’s death, it’s been signed this point on.

You could hear AND feel Hange’s stomps nearing both you and Avery.

God help the poor garrison member, because they’re about to be sent to heaven with how jealous and irritated Hange is.

“Hey, Avery.” Hange’s voice cut through your guys’ conversation, “Hange!” you chirped, holding onto the flower Avery had gifted you. “Hange! You’ve met Reader here right?” Avery asked, also unaware of Hange’s attitude.

“yes, they’re actually my partner.” Hange’s teeth was gritted as they took their rightful place beside you, pulling you close. Cue the awkward silence, “Oh my god, Hange I’m so sorry, I thought they were you know-” Hange didn’t even let him finish.

“Just get the fuck out, Avery.” Hange gave him a glare that almost made Avery shit his pants. “Yes captain!” He saluted and left before Hange could murder him. “What was that about, Hange?” You asked as they took the flower out of your hand.

“He was courting you, and you were letting him, darling.” Hange stated, as you covered your mouth with your hand, “Oh! I’m sorry Hange! Darn it, I’m so oblivious.” You scolded yourself.

“It’s good you can still remember that you belong to me.” Hange continued, inspecting the flower gifted to you. “Of course, you only, Hange.” You agreed, looking at them.

“Wanna prove it to me then, Reader?”

Miche Zacharias

Miche is kind of like a grizzly bear, you should never be around him when he’s mad or jealous.

He tends to be more aggressive when it comes to him being irritated, I don’t mean to headcanon him as a wolf, but I know he just growls when a little thing goes wrong.

He’s possessive over you now, but now he’s basically just suffocating you with his over-protectiveness.

I feel as if he can tell when someone has some kind of weird scent, and it basically spoils everything he can smell.

He tends to hover around you once he gets jealous, he’ll get clingy and probably need to have you touching him somehow, holding hands, side by side. He just needs to be touching you.

He’s the type of person to also just, push away who ever you’re talking with, and just drag you away.

One time, you and him went on a date and the person who worked there hit on you right in front of him, Miche made him almost piss his pants.

Miche and you were out at an event for survery corps members, celebrating your recent successes with your latest expedition. Miche was with Erwin and Levi while you chatted up a storm with a noble named Walter.

Miche could feel himself about to break his glass, watching you and Walter laugh together. “So, are you seeing anyone?” Walter asked, you stopped laughing, shocked that he’d ask you that question out of nowhere.

“What?-” At this point Walter had a hold of both of your hands, you were absolutely still in place, “Actually don’t mind that, can I court you?” A big smile was on Walter’s face, wondering about your answer. “I-”

“You actually can’t, they have a boyfriend.” Miche had long appeared behind you, towering over both you and Walter. You closed your eyes, in a bit of relief, “Yes, this is Miche, he’s a section commander and my boyfriend.” You smiled, hooking your hand with Miche’s, silently hoping that Walter would leave you both alone.

“Ah, I’m terribly sorry, I thought you didn’t have a partner, that’s my fault.” Walter quickly apologized, seeing how intimidating Miche was. “well, I-..I should go, it was lovey meeting you and your boyfriend, Reader.” Walter speed-walked his way out of his situation, leaving you with a pouty and jealous Miche.

“Why talk to those who look like they have it tiny, Reader?”

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cinnamonrusts · 3 years

Text

sparda twins -- reactions

The Sparda twins reactions that you're pregnant with not just one, but two of their children.

DANTE-

You paced the bathroom several times as you gnawed on your thumbnail. Your eyes did not leave the plastic stick that was sitting on the edge of the sink near the toilet. The packaging read that results would be ready in five minutes, but the wait had it feeling like five hours.

Dante had left on a run for some take out and you knew that it was all the way across town, so it left you some free time to figure out your "little" situation. You hadn't told him anything. How could you? The two of you were not in an exactly "family friendly" business. Last thing Dante would need to worry about was a mini Sparda.

You had enough of waiting and snatched the test from the counter. Your eyes narrowed as they fixated on the single horizontal pink line, but widened when it turned into a plus. The blood in your body ran cold and your throat grew dry. It was as if the + sign mocked you and your stomach felt sick. You knew it would happen, Dante called himself the pull out king. Yeah - fucking - right, and this proved him to be very wrong.

The evidence needed to be disposed of, so you wrapped it several times in some toilet paper and shoved it in the trash can. Dante hardly took the trash out and it would be unlikely that he would decide to scour the garbage, so you felt safe. Now all you would have to do is just keep it a secret until you decided how to approach it.

It didn't last long and soon Nico was on the other end of the phone. She let out a happy, "'Eller!" but was greeted by a loud sob along with unintelligible babble. "Woah! Woah! [Y/N], you gotta repeat yourself. I couldn't make out a damn thing! You okay?" the brunette asked, concerned. "I'M PREGNANT!" your sobs now made sense. "Oh, shit," she replied. "Yeah, oh shit is right."

"Did you tell Dante yet?"

You scoffed, "No. I don't think I can," as you spoke on the phone in the kitchen, your eyes fixed on a photo on the fridge of you and your devil hunter boyfriend. The two of you looked so happy and Dante's smile was so bright, the vibes that radiated from the picture kind of gave you some assurance. Maybe Dante would react well to the news and maybe he'd give the same smile of glee at the idea of being a father.

"But you're going to have to at some point. How you goin' to explain a giant belly here in a few months?" Nico was right, there was no way around it. You pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes tight, "Could you maybe -- I dunno, take me to the doctor?" Nico replied, "I'll be there in a jiff!"

Just as you hung up, Dante walked in with two large bags that smelled of Chinese food. "Food is here and beer is in the fridge!" he waddled into the kitchen and his happy expression turned to one of concern when he noticed you looked upset. "Hey, darlin', you alright?" he set the bags down on the floor and slid to your side, his arms around your waist. His musk along with the heavy smell of greasy Chinese food almost threw you over the edge and caused you to gag. You placed your hand on his chest to prevent him from getting closer. His brows furrowed as he tried to understand what was wrong but the loud horn of Nico's van interrupted. "I'm going out with Nico. I'll be back," you brushed past him, grabbed your coat, and dashed out the door.

You were able to take a breath once you jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Your head rested on the back of the seat and your eyes closed, "Thanks for the ride." Nico placed a hand on your thigh and nodded, "No problem, girlfriend."

Several hours passed and you weren't home yet. Dante's mind raced with different things he could've done to make you so upset. Was it because he hadn't taken the trash out? He would do that soon. Was it because he hadn't shown his appreciation for you relationship lately? He would go tonight to get you some flowers. So, the man did just that. Dante took the overflowed trash out. Then he made sure to hurry, so, that he would be home before you. Dante chose a bouquet of white roses and a goofy card. The card had two hot dogs on the front who held hands with smiles on their faces. It read, "Hot dog! You make me happy!" Dante got a kick out of it and figured you would too. The devil hunter wrote a quick, cheesy blurb in a scribbled mess and signed with his name plus a heart.

He opened the door and was surprised to see you in a chair near the entrance. You seemed to be in a trance and were startled by Dante’s sudden appearance. “I got you these!” he handed his gifts over but his happiness was dropped when you didn’t seem very happy to receive them.

“Dante, I have something I need to tell you.” you found it hard to keep your eyes on his. “Well, here it goes---,” your nose inhaled, then exhaled deeply, “I’m pregnant.”

Dante’s face was void of emotion before he burst into laughter. You grew angry and your facial expressions matched it. “That’s a good one, babe. Whew!,” he clapped his hands and winced a bit with his hand on his side, “Ow! That laugh made me pull a muscle.”

“I’m serious, Dante. I’m pregnant.” you reiterated. “With --- emotion?” he asked as his eyes shifted side to side.

“What? No! With a baby!”

Once Dante heard it for the third time, he realized it all. He was going to be a father and you were going to be the one who would usher in another lineage of the Sparda bloodline. Dante rushed to your side and took a knee as he kneeled beside you. His palm immediately made its way to your stomach as he pictured the life that was within. “Hey there, little buddy.” You cleared your throat into a closed fist which drew his attention to your face. Your right hand raised slowly and you twiddled your two first fingers in the air with a small smile.

That same grin that shined in the photo on your fridge grew across his lips. Both of his hands grabbed either side of your lower torso and he stared at your stomach. “You mean, there’s two of me in there?!” His expressions were warm and overjoyed, relief crashed over you as this situation turned out better than you thought.

“I’m gonna really need to get outta debt.”

VERGIL-

Your body spoke to you and told you that something was going on. Every morning you felt ill and you could devour anything in sight until nausea overtook you. Lady asked if there was any possibility that you could be pregnant. A snort left your nostrils, “Impossible. Vergil and I don’t have sex enough for that to happen.” your mate was normally not home, you often slept in an empty bed more than one occupied by his strong body. But anytime he was, the act of intimacy could tear the walls down of his brother’s building. He was a focused and controlled man, he knew what he needed to do to prevent another child in his life. You were okay with that, your job was not one that was prime for being a parent. So, there was no doubt in your mind that this was nothing but a simple stomach bug.

“I don’t know, all your symptoms point to it, [Y/N]. Maybe you should take a test,” she attempted to reason with you and you eventually gave in.

The entire time you played it off as just something you did for Lady so that she would get off your back about it. You sat on the closed toilet lid and held the test loosely in between your fingers. The box read that it would take about ten minutes for a result, so you avoided looking at it until roughly around that. But your heart dropped into your stomach when the test did not read negative, but positive. “Shit --- Lady was right.” your cursed and your head dropped between your knees as your mind raced.

Vergil just found out that he had a son, Nero, and now you would throw him the information that he would have now an infant on the way. It was a conversation that you did not want to have. Vergil was a reserved man who did not show you his emotions often or expressed them publicly. You knew he loved you but it took quite sometime for him to open up to you about the fact. He put back his one track set mind toward power and made you a priority in his life. However, he had issues with being around his brother, son, and the other’s -- so he often went off on his own. You learned that this was something he wanted and you did not want to force yourself to go with him always.

So, this news would not be easy to break to him when he would return in about a week. With the test clenched in your hand, you opened the door to leave the bathroom to only be greeted by Lady who was leaned against the walls with arms crossed. “So, what’s the prognosis?” she pushed herself from the wall and followed you as you pushed past her. You tossed the test into the air with your fingers and she caught it, “What do you think?” you answered before she was able to see for herself. The female was shocked to see that she was correct but didn’t want to say that she told you so.

You were about to slam your room door shut but her boot stopped it, “What’re you going to tell Vergil?” Your back was turned toward her and you faced the window as you observed the rain that pattered against the window. “Fuck if I know. How do you tell someone like him that he’s going to be a father... again.” Lady was silent, you turned on your heels to face her, “Exactly.”

Lady took your hand in hers and gave you a comforting smile, “Hey, he won’t be home for like what-- another week? Let’s get you to the doctor, we’ll figure something out.” You smiled faintly in return, “You’re a hell of a lady, Lady,” she batted her eyelashes, “Oh, I know.~”

A Week Later --

Lady was in your room with you and the door was closed, the two of you spoke of your plan of how you would drop the bomb on your half demon boyfriend.

“Do you really think Vergil will accept it?” you asked just as the white haired man opened the door, “Accept what?” he asked coolly. Lady closed her mouth and first looked at Vergil, then to you, “I’ll just let you guys have some alone time,” she slinked past the Sparda man and closed the door behind her. His gaze never left you and his strong features were unmoved.

You attempted to embrace him as you wrapped your arms around his neck but he gave you a slight push away before you could place a kiss on his cheek. “Will you tell me what you were talking about?” You bit your lower lip and hesitated to confess to him. Vergil took hold of your chin with his fingertips, “Speak.”

You swallowed hard, his blue eyes did not waver and they were just so beautiful that you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’m --- pregnant,” you whispered. It was like time moved to slow motion, Vergil observed each syllable that came from your lips. Pregnant? Pregnant. Pregnant.

A twitch in Vergil’s furrowed brows caught your attention, it proceeded to twitch several times before he closed his eyes and released his grip on your chin. “How?” You shrugged, “I thought we were careful every time, even with our more adventurous hookups.” He didn’t speak and just listened, “Why?”

“Why?” you repeated, “That’s what happens, Vergil. I can’t really make it anymore clear.” As per usual, you couldn’t read him and his thoughts were a mystery to you.

“So, I’ll be a father once again. At least I’m currently aware of this one.” he sighed.

“Two,” you interjected. It was as if you could see his ears perk up when you mentioned a number higher than he assumed. “Two? Another set of Sparda twins...” he was quiet before you could see a small smile on his lips. Vergil called for you to come to him, which you obeyed.

He wrapped his right arm around your upper half. His left hand rested on your stomach with a loved filled touch. His chin rested on top of your head as he imagined what they looked like and what life would be like in several months.

He thought to himself, maybe -- just maybe -- he truly deserved a happy life, despite all the things he had done. He now felt a stronger urge to want to be around you, the babies, and even Dante more.

“Do I deserve this happiness, [Y/N]?”

Your hand rested on his that was still on your stomach, “Of course. You always have.”

#devil may cry #dmc #dante sparda x reader #dante x reader #dante sparda #vergil sparda x reader #vergil x reader #vergil sparda #devil may cry x reader #devil may cry imagine #dante imagine #vergil imagine #pregnant!reader #did you catch my knocked up reference #lmao my fave part

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julesclues · 3 years

Text

I’ll Never Hate You

Warnings: language and the obvious walking dead gore

Word count: 4.41k

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x reader

Summary: you and Daryl go on a supply run, and you get trapped by walkers. You wind up saving daryl’s life but get hurt in the mean time. He gets mad at you for risking your life for him. (Takes place in the prison, pre-governor)

You and Daryl had met on Hershel’s farm. You were very fond of the Greene family, even before the outbreak. So when things went to shit, you stuck with them. When Rick and his group came when Carl got shot, you had instantly connected with Daryl. Sure, Daryl had been a bit distant because he had trouble opening up to new people. But for some reason he thought you were different. In a good way.

Now a couple months later, you two were best friends. Sure, you might’ve developed a small crush on the younger Dixon man. But it was better than feeling nothing in days like these. It made you feel human. You guys were now at a prison and honestly, things couldn’t be better. Lori had passed away a couple weeks ago, but Judith was born. And in your eyes, she was a blessing in a world like this. Daryl and Rick had been the two who usually went on supply runs but ever since Lori died, Rick hasn’t been himself. So, you took his place. It’s been great, too. You and Daryl always were cautious and took care of each other, coming back with a lot of supplies too. But today.. today was different. Today you two had ran into a little problem.

You had spotted a grocery store that was actually still quite stocked. “Dixon,” you say, hitting his shoulder. He turns to you and tilts his head a bit. “What?” His raspy voice asks. “There’s a grocery store. There’s bound to be some baby formula in there.” He hums in agreement and you both head over there, watching your surroundings for any walkers. You two look through the windows. It looks empty, so you walk towards the front door. As you push it open, Daryl tightens his grip on his crossbow and follows closely behind you. “Alright, let’s be quick,” you whisper, and he nods. You both had a list of things you needed to get, but food for both the adults and the baby were the most important. After 20 minutes of searching, you finally find the formula. But it’s high up on the shelf that you nor Daryl would be able to reach. “Screw it,” you whisper to yourself, and start to climb the shelf. “Hey!” Daryl yells, making you turn your head to him. “What? I’m trying to get the formula!” You yell back, repositioning yourself. “Ugh Y/n just..” Daryl looks around, praying that there’s no walkers. “Just hurry up, okay?” You nod as you grunt and finally make it to the top of the shelf. You sit up there, looking down to Daryl. “See? I’m okay! Don’t wor–“ you’re cut off after hear a loud groan from the other side of the store. “Shit,” you whisper, as daryl’s head turns quickly toward the noise. He looks back at you, urging you to hurry up and get down. You pack as much baby food into your bag as you can, darting your eyes between the walker in the other isle and Daryl right below you. “Y/n, get down here now! We gotta go,” daryl whispers, trying hard not to get the attention of the walker. You jump down and reunite with him. “Let’s go,” you exclaim, following him to the exit. As you’re walking down the isle behind him, something grabs his ankle and he falls to the ground.

“Daryl!” You look down and grab your knife, stabbing the walkers arm. It pulls away from Daryl, groaning in pain. “You alright?” Before he could respond, 1 walker turns into 3, and then 3 turns into 6. Soon you two were surrounded, having no choice but to fend for yourselves. You both go back to back. Looking over your shoulder at him, he nods and you take that as signal to start fighting. He shoots his arrows through the heads of the walkers as you get up close and personal with your knife. Killing off your walkers, you turn to him just as his last walker hits the ground. He pulls out the arrow from the walkers head with a grunt. “Ya a’right?” He asks, picking up his bag from the floor. “As good as I can be,” you admit. “Let’s get out of here.” Walking toward the exit after that rough encounter, you get lost in your thoughts. You weren’t thinking about anything particular. Just how life was before the outbreak. You started to wonder if you and Daryl would have ever found each other. It’s crazy how the world works.

A loud crash in front of you causes you to snap back to reality. Glass from the window behind Daryl had broke. 3 pairs of hands grab him, as he drops his bow and struggles to get away from them. You panic, turning your head to behind you as you hear more of them approach. “Get outta here y/n!” Daryl yells, but you turn and shake your head. “No way! I’m not leaving you!” He kicks and struggles to grab his knife from pocket. “Y/n! Run, now!” He yells, but you ignore him. No way you’re leaving him to just die. You bend down and pick up his crossbow, starting to shoot the walkers coming up behind you guys. “Just don’t get bit Dixon! Please for the love of god, just don’t get bit!” You kept repeating the words, trying your best to defeat the walkers by yourself. You shot one right between the eyes, and he was dead before he hit the ground. But with 2 left and no more arrows, you began to panic. Your quickly turn to see Daryl stuggling to get the walkers off of him.

You run up to the other two in front of you and stab one in the forehead as you kick the other one away from you. It falls to the ground and you get on top of it, stabbing it in the head a couple times. Blood splatters all over you. You wipe your forehead as you hear Daryl grunt in pain. You quickly get up and run around so you’re outside behind the walkers in the window. “Come and get me motherfuckers!” They all moan, letting go of Daryl to get to you. “Shit,” you whisper as your eyes go wide. You stab one in the chest but lose your knife as it sticks to him. Weaponless, you slowly back up. Your back hits a tree, scratching your side. Pain shoots up your body but your gaze doesn’t turn away from them. One of the walkers lunges itself toward you, causing you to hold your forearm up against it. The other two are slowly making its way toward you, as you cry in pain and fear.

“Daryl!” You scream, hoping that he’s okay and would come to your rescue. But he was no where to be found. As the other 2 approach, you hold up your other hand to hold one away and your foot to kick the other one. You thought you were going to die. That this was it. At least you got that baby food for Judith. You close your eyes, and the pain in your side slowly goes away. You heard the walker groan and felt it’s breath so close to your face. Your breathing began to pick up and your face was scrunched up. But before any pain from a bite could come, you heard the swoosh of an arrow hit the walker you were holding with your foot. Your leg drops with it as your eyes divert to the archer running towards you with his bow still aimed at the biters. “Hey ya shits! Get away from her!” The walker you were holding with your forearm turns around but the other one remains attached to you. Daryl puts his bow to his side as he rips the knife from the walkers chest, and then plunges it in his forehead instead. With the other walker you had, he does the same thing, and you see the knife come out the other side as some of its brains gets in your hair. You pant along side him when he comes up in front of you.

“Thanks for the assist,” you chuckle, but his gaze stays firm and serious. “Are you okay?” Ignoring your question, he turns the blade of the knife so he’s now holding the sharp part. Grabbing the knife, you try to slow down your breathing. You could feel he was mad, but you thought it was because of the walkers. He goes to walk away but he turns quickly and pushes you up against the tree. “What’s the matter with ya, huh?” He snaps, making you confused and furrow your eyebrows. “I told ya to run! But instead, ya be a goddamn idiot and almost get ya self killed? And for what? For nothing! This isn’t a game y/n!” You push him away with a grunt and throw your bag on the floor. “What? You think I did that for shits and giggles?!” You yell back, panting. “It wasn’t for nothing Daryl! You were going to die if I didn’t do something! You think I was just going to watch as walkers killed you? Fuck you for thinking I did that for fun! I almost died and so did you! But that’s what the world is now. It’s almost dying for some baby formula and canned corn!” He doesn’t respond, nor does he break the eye contact with you. He runs his hand down his face and shakes his head. “Ya life is more important! Don’t go and do that shit again! It’s not right!” With that, he picks up both your bag and his, making his way to the car you two came him. You stay in your spot for a couple seconds before following far behind him. This was going to be one awkward car ride.

As you walk to the car, you wince in pain and look down at your life side. You slowly lift up your shirt and see the blood slowly pouring out. You hold your side and walk toward the car, groaning softly as you sit down in the passenger seat. Daryl was putting the bags in the backseat in silence. He would mumble something under his breath from time to time, but you tried not to listen. You didn’t wanna talk to him right now. He gets in the drivers seat and you turn your head so you’re looking outside the window. All you had to do was make it through this 20 minute car ride and you would be free from the silence and awkwardness. He starts the car and accelerates in silence. With every bump you guys hit, your body would jerk forward in pain. Soon, Daryl started to catch on. “What’s wrong with ya? Ya hurt or somethin’?” You sigh and lift up your shirt so he can see your scratch. He instantly steps on the breaks, making you throw your hands out on the dashboard. “What’s the matter with you?!” You yell, turning toward him. “Let me see it,” he says calmly, reaching for you. But you smack his hand and get out of the car. “Y/n–“

“I’m walking.” You start to walk and Daryl slowly accelerates, matching your speed while looking at you and then the road with each passing minute. “Was it from a walker?” He asks with concern, but he tries to hide it. He wasn’t very doing a good job. “No,” you say nonchalantly. “A tree. The branch got me.”

“Y/n just let me see it. Please.” You stop walking and look at him. “Why can’t you take a hint and leave me alone?!” You yell, throwing your bag in the passengers seat and slamming the door shut. Daryl lowers the window and rolls his eyes. “Why?!”

“Because I’m mad at you!”

“Why are ya mad?!”

“Because I am, okay?”

“But why?”

“Because I almost died for you and now you’re pissed at me! You always do this, it’s so infuriating!”

Daryl stops the car and you stop walking almost instantly. He gets out and looks you up and down. “Ya almost died,” he says slowly. “Dead, y/n. Gone forever, don’t ya understand that?” You stay silent and look down at the ground. “Yeah Daryl, I get it. I’m not a kid. But why are you mad that I almost died? If I did, wouldn’t have been for nothing.” He shakes his head and stomps on the ground. “Cause I was scared, okay? Ya almost died and I was scared.” You chuckle and look away, trying hard to ignore the flutters in your stomach. “Daryl Dixon scared? Never.” You try to call his bluff but he looks down at your feet for a couple seconds, like he was thinking about something intensely. He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Just let me see the damn wound.” You knew he was still mad and a short conversation wasn’t going to make that all go away. But the pain was getting worse so you had no choice but to show him. You weren’t going to let your stubbornness get you killed. You roll up your shirt and Daryl touches it softly, making you yell in pain.

“Dammit!” You wince, pulling away from Daryl. “Woah Y/n.. that’s bad. We gotta get ya back to Hershel or ya gon’ bleed out. Can you walk?” Daryl asks, but his voice fades as you begin to feel faint. “Daryl,” you whisper, falling into him. “Ah, shit,” you hear him curse, as he lifts you up bridal style, and carries you back to the car. “Don’t you dare die L/n. I ain’t watching ya become no walker.” You chuckle softly and try to regain your consciousness, but it’s no use. “N-never that, Dixon,” you mumble. Shortly after, you black out.

You wake up back at the prison, in one of the cells. You look around and realize that you’re actually in Daryl’s cell. The crossbow and jacket in the corner give that away almost instantly. Then there’s the drawing on the wall that Carl made him when he was younger. For some reason, Daryl carries it every time we find a different place, and hangs it up. You found it adorable. Groaning, you sit up and hold your head. It was pounding, you thought your brain was about to come out of your ears. You swing your feet so they’re off the bed and find the strength to stand up. Wobbling a bit, you grab the side of the bunk bed and stableize yourself. As you’re doing that, Maggie walks into the cell and helps you. “Woah, I got ya,” she says, and you smile at her. “Where’s Daryl?” You ask, almost instantly. You wanted to thank him for saving your life. If he hadn’t got to the prison as quick as he did or force you to show him your injury, you would’ve died. “Outside in the guard tower,” she answers. You regain stability and start to walk but her grip on you prevents you from going anywhere. “Where are ya going?” She asks concerningly. “To see him,” you say with a hint of pain lingering in your voice. “Not in this condition. Besides, he looked pissed and worried all in one when he got here with ya last night,” she exclaims, but you push her away slightly and continue to limp out the cell. “I need to see him,” you admit. All she does is sigh and stand out of your way. “Fine,” she says, her southern accent jumping out a little more. “I’ll be fine,” you smile. You pat her shoulder in reassurance, and then grab your side for support.

You walk outside and hold your arm up to block the sun. It was blazing hot. You were surprised the walkers along the gate didn’t burst into flames. Making your way to the guard tower, you try to remember the events that took place last night. You remembered he was mad at you, so you decided to make sure your word choices were very precise when you got up there. Making it to the guard tower, you saw Daryl up top, keeping watch. He wasn’t looking your way, but you didn’t want to distract him so you just walked inside. The door opens with a loud creak, catching the attention of Daryl. But before he could realize who it is, you’re already inside and struggling to walk up the many stairs.

You pant, feeling your side hurt with each stair you climb. But you didn’t care. You wanted to talk to Daryl. To hug him again. Just to be in his presence, even if you two didn’t speak. Finally making it up the stairs, you pant in tiredness. Daryl’s eyes are already on you as they go wide. “Y/n?” He questions, walking up to you. He helps guide you to a chair that he was standing next to while he was on watch. “What’re ya doing here? You’re supposed ta’ be restin’,” he says concerningly. You smile and look out at the the walkers past the gate. “Thank you,” you blurt out. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, but you continue to talk. “Yeah well don’t be getting used to it. Don’t want ya going out of the prison anymore.” You roll your eyes and turn to him. “Daryl you can’t tell me what to do. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” You try to remain calm, but it angered you that Daryl was trying to control what you did and didn’t do. Sure, you knew he was just trying to protect you and make sure the same mistake doesn’t happen again, but you hated it.

“Well ya almost got ya self killed yesterday! No way ya taking that chance again,” he says, crossing his arms and putting down the rifle. You scoff and stand up as quickly as you could. “Listen to me Dixon,” you say roughly, putting the tip of your finger on his chest. “I do what I want, when I want, and how I want. This is the world we live in now! Whether you like it or not, we’re going to run into some problems. But we can’t run from them. I almost died, yeah. So did you. But you don’t see me yelling at you to not go on runs anymore. We don’t get to choose if we do or not. We need to, for the sake of the group.”

“It’s different y/n. You’re different than me. I can’t–“

“I wasn’t done talking Daryl,” you say, interrupting him. He stops talking as you continue. “You didn’t purposely get caught by those walkers. It’s not like you wanted me to get hurt. Everything was so sudden, and yet you reacted in the best way you could. You saved my life Daryl. I’m alive because of you. I think that counts for something, don’t you? So stop getting mad at me for helping you because that’s what we do! We help each other! You don’t get to hate me because I saved you! That’s not right and you know it.” You pant, sitting back down because your side started to hurt once more. He stays silent for a minute, before turning to look at the walkers by the fence in the distance. “Ya think I hate you?” He whispers, making you turn to him. But he continues to look straight, not daring to make eye contact with you.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, biting the inside of your cheek. “Please don’t hate me,” you whisper sadly. This causes Daryl to look at you, his heart breaking almost instantly. He couldn’t take how sad you looked. He was just so scared of losing you. And the fact that yesterday that almost happened? He just felt so out of control and scared. You were the only thing keeping him going. You and little ass kicker, that is. He holds out his hand and grabs your face. “I’ll never hate you,” he whispers, walking closer to you. You sink into his hand and close your eyes slowly. “Promise?” You ask in a whisper. “Promise,” he repeats in the same tone. You open your eyes back again, and instantly make eye contact with the archer. You felt so lucky to have him. Have him protecting you, whether it be inside the walls or outside. Your heart skips a beat as he stares down at you. You look down, hoping to hide the blush that rose up to your cheeks.

He removes his hand from your cheek and picks his crossbow back up. “W-well,” you stutter, clearing your throat. “I’ll leave you to lookout.” You get up to leave, but he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t ya stay? Rest here if ya want,” he mumbles, bitting the inside of his cheek. “Okay,” you agree, plopping back down into the seat. “I’d like that.”

A couple hours pass since Daryl asked you to stay. It had turned into night, and you yawned, struggling to keep your eyes open. Daryl noticed and huffed, standing up straight. “Maybe we should get back, huh?” He asks, but it’s more like a demand than a question. You nod, standing up and hissing silently. From sitting so long, the pain in your side had felt tense and sore. “Ya a’ight?” Daryl asks with a hint of conern in his southern accent. You smile with a slight nod, heading down the stairs of the guard tower as he followed you. Making it outside, the wind hits your face and you close your eyes. It felt nice not being stuffed in that tiny guard tower anymore. You loved being with Daryl, but even you needed open space at some point.

You and Daryl begin walking back to the prison, taking it slow since you could only go so fast. He stayed by your side the entire time, though he could’ve easily made it back to the prison by now. You looked over at him but his gaze was pointed toward the prison. You took in his features. His hair fell in front of his face, just above his eyes. You wanted to push it away and run your hands through his hair. Though it probably hasn’t been washed in a couple days, it looks very soft, and as if it smelled good as well. Daryl felt your eyes on his and turned his head in your direction, causing you to smile at getting caught. You weren’t embarrassed, you were simply just observing the man you trusted. Daryl smirked, and felt his heart speeding up. Though he’d never admit it to you, let alone himself, he considered you his best friend. The only one out of the group he could fully trust. You could make a decision that he didn’t agree with at all, but he would still go with it. But he knew you wanted what was best for the group. For him.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” He asks you, pushing the door open to the prison. You go in first, turning back to him as he shuts the door behind him. “You.” His eyebrows perk up at your confident yet short answer, and you chuckle. Your laugh was music to his ears. It was much better than your cries of pain, or the groans of the walkers outside. He would rather listen to your laugh than anything else in the world. He loved it.

He walked you back to your cell, biting down on his bottom lip to keep from smiling. You took off your shoes almost instantly, and layed down with a sigh on the bottom bunk. Daryl pulled a chair next to your bed, sitting down with his legs open and his arms resting on his legs. He leaned forward, waiting for the silence to stop. “Thank you again for today,” you whisper, and he smiles quickly. “Was nothin’,” he says quickly and quietly. “Just sorry ya got hurt.” You shake your head and close your eyes, feeling his hard gaze never leave you. “It wasn’t your fault,” you reassure him. “I know,” he replies sadly. You knew he didn’t believe that fully, but you made it your mission to make him believe it. One day.

You open your eyes again, seeing his eyes linger on yours. “Ya hairs a mess,” he jokes, making you giggle. You push the baby hairs out of your face and look up at him. “Am I pretty again?” You joke back, but all he does is smile and look away. “Daryl?” You whisper, making him look back at you. “Yeah?” He whispers back. You felt like it was just the two of you again the world. In a way, it was. “I like you,” you say quickly, biting the inside of your cheek in nervousness. He tilts his head in confusion. “I would hope so,” he chuckles. You realized he didn’t understand what you really meant. “Daryl, no. I-I mean that.. it’s more than a like.” You were stuttering like a teenager with a stupid crush. “I suck at this,” you chuckle softly, hiding your face in your hands.

You felt his remove your hands with his, now towering over you. “Daryl?” You murmur, feeling your heart rate speed up. It felt like it was going a mile a minute. “Ya love me?” He asks, but all you can do is nod. “Then can I kiss ya?” Ypu widen your eyes in surprise, before nodding once more. You felt as if you were in a dream. He kisses you softly by grabbing both sides on your face. You kiss him back, smiling into the kiss. He starts kissing you more roughly, now hovering over you.

“Woah..”

You and Daryl snap away from each other, looking in the doorway. Maggie stood there with a basket of laundry under her armpit. She was smirking and you closed your eyes, smiling widely. “Maggie! Get outta here!” Daryl yells, throwing a rag at her. She laughs and walks away while saying, “I knew it!”

Daryl looks back down at you and smirks. “Where were we?” He kissing you roughly again, and you close your eyes in happiness. The world had ended and a new one had began. It sucked, but if it didn’t happen, you wouldn’t have found Daryl. And he wouldn’t have found you.

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Before You Go

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Request from Anon: 28. Last surprise kiss before I go off and do something dangerous with Nestor (From This List)

Warnings: light angst, Nestor being soft for his girl

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Me? Receiving this request and cranking it out in the final stretch before the next Mayans episode because it tapped into the right part of my brain?? It’s more likely than you think. My brain is all Nestor and Creeper lately guys but I swear I will get to all my other requests that you’ve sent in. This just...got me

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You had been watching him get ready all morning, trying to ignore the growing knot in your stomach. He’d told you earlier in the week that once the weekend rolled around he was going to have to take off for a while with Miguel for business. You knew that business was synonymous with danger about 95% of the time, especially if it was going to be taking him away for more than a day or two. You’d gotten better at dealing with it, but it still wasn’t easy by any stretch of the imagination.

“Please, hermosa, quit looking at me with the sad eyes,” his tone was hinging on pleading as he looked at you sitting on the end of the bed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you shook your head, trying to dispel the spiraling thoughts in your brain.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he walked over and gently cupped your chin, kissing you lightly on the lips, “I promise.”

“You’ll get in touch with me as soon as you can?”

“Don’t I always?”

You nod, “You do. I still need to ask, though.”

He chuckled, “I know,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before going back to packing.

While he was stuffing a last few things in his suitcase, you made your way to the kitchen. In an attempt to keep yourself busy, you made a fresh pot of coffee and grabbed a travel mug out of the cabinet. Without thinking much of it, you prepared him a cup of coffee to take with him on the road. You assumed that it was probably going to be a bit of a drive, wherever it was that they were going.

You were leaning against the counter, chin rested in the palms of your hands when he walked through with his suitcase in tow. He always looked so professional and handsome when he was getting ready to head out on business with Miguel. He owned more dress shirts than you would ever know what to do with, but he did wear them all. That, coupled with the holsters strapped to his shoulders and his ever-lengthening braids, it was hard not to be a little in awe in the midst of being worried about whatever he was about to send himself into.

He saw the worried look in your eyes and let out a small sigh as he smiled, “What about that coffee has you looking so upset?”

It got you to laugh, “I need to work a little harder on my poker face, huh?”

He nodded, “Yes, yes you do.”

You pushed yourself back off the counter, lifting the coffee mug, “It’s for you.”

“That why you’re so sad about it?”

“You know I hate giving up coffee,” you chuckled.

He set his suitcase down and took the coffee mug from you before pulling you into a hug and kissing your forehead, “Well I’m glad you’re willing to give it up for me.”

“C’mon,” you took the mug back, “I’ll help you out to the car.”

He laughed, “Doing the heavy lifting for me?”

“I’m carrying the precious cargo,” you smiled, “So, you know, you’re welcome.”

“Don’t know what I’d do without you,” he grabbed his bag and followed you towards the door, shaking his head the entire way.

He’d loaded up the car and all that was left was to say goodbye to you. It never got any easier, and the puppy-dog eyes you always gave him each time certainly didn’t help. You knew that it was what he had to do but it didn’t mean that you liked it. He peppered your face in a thousand kisses in the course of loading up the car and getting ready to leave, and you soaked up each and every one.

“Alright,” he took the coffee mug from you and set it in the car before turning back to face you again, “I’ll talk to you as soon as I can, okay?” he pulled you into a hug.

You nodded into his chest, “Okay.”

He pulled back and kissed you on the lips, “I love you.”

You traced your thumb along his cheek, savoring the lingering touch for a moment, “I love you too.”

He placed a quick peck to your lips, “Stay outta trouble while I’m gone.”

You let out a quiet laugh as you stepped back, allowing him to get into the car, “I should be telling you that.”

“Do something besides worry over the next few days, okay?”

“No promises,” you flashed him a smile, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

He sat down in the driver’s seat and shut the door behind him. You gave him one last small wave before turning and heading back towards the house, heart hurting a little too much to wait and watch his SUV fade from view. You were on the last step before your door when you felt a hand grasp yours and tug you back.

A quiet yelp of surprise slipped past your lips as you descended the stairs and tumbled directly into Nestor’s waiting arms. You caught the smile on his face as he pulled you in close and pressed his lips to yours. One arm snaked around your waist as his other hand came and rested on the back of your head, keeping you as close to him as he could get you. You felt the laughter bubbling up in your chest as you melted into the kiss, your hands finding their home on either side of his neck. He squeezed you tight as his lips stayed locked to yours.

When he finally pulled away, both of you had smiles on your faces. He cupped your face in his hands, “Just wanted to see that before I left,” his thumb traced lightly along your bottom lip that was curled up into a smile, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Stay safe, okay?”

“Anything for you,” he kissed your cheek once more before turning and heading back towards the car.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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wordsnwhiskey · 3 years

Text

As It Should Be | Chapter 4: Company

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: Whiskey gets a surprised call and he and Frankie have a long talk.

Rating: M

Warnings: Talks of drug use, alcohol, mentions of character death, mentions of canon typical violence, PTSD, violent nightmare

A/N: I really wanted this conversation to happen between these two given their respective histories. We all know that Whiskey needed therapy and in this verse he gets it. It’s also my HC, from what I vaguely know (I’m not an expert and I could be very wrong), that Whiskey was an officer in the Air Force where he flew/placed in jets and that’s how he knows how to fly an F-22 (The Silver Pony).

We are getting some angst and some fluff this time folks!

Also, yes I do have a specific soap in mind for Whiskey, it's Old Glory by Duke Cannon

Huge special thanks to mi esposa @danniburgh and my friend Agent Capri Sun for the betas and encouragement!!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 3: Statesmen & Demons | AO3

He was drowning. He needed...something. He needed help.

Frankie pulled his phone out, went to the recent number that was, as of yet, unsaved, and pressed ‘call’. His shaky hand brought the phone up to his ear as the line rang.

Whiskey’s hair was still wet from his shower, and his white t-shirt clung to his damp skin. Eyeing the take out on his counter, he sank into his couch and smiled at your texts:

Whiskey: Thai sound good, sweetheart?

Bourbon: God yes Jack, I’m starving!

Whiskey: I’ll let you know when I get outta the shower, see you soon sweetheart

He was just about to send you a message to come on over when his phone rang. Glancing at the clock on his stove, then back to the unfamiliar Texas number on his caller ID, he frowned.

“Whiskey.”

His greeting was curt. Who the hell would be calling at 8:30 pm on a Wednesday?

“H-hey Whiskey, it’s me, Frankie. Is… uh, is she there?”

Whiskey’s frown deepened, not that he minded Frankie calling him, far from it, but his voice was cracking like he’d been... crying?

“Oh, hey there, Flyboy. No she isn’t, do you need me to get her?”

“N-no, no… I, uh, I don’t want her to see me right now. I’m, uh,” Whiskey could hear Frankie take a deep breath on the other side of the line. “I’m having a bad night, Jack. Could you come get me? I’m at the hotel.”

Jack shot straight up, practically leaping to his feet.

“Did you…?”

The question clung to the air like lead, crushing both of their chests in the silence.

“No, I haven’t… I just… fuck.”

Jack was moving, grabbing his leather jacket, keys, and Stetson, practically sprinting out the door.

“Don’t worry about it, Flyboy. I’m headed your way.”

He shifted his weight while he waited for the elevator to take him to the parking garage, shooting off a quick text to you in apology. Frankie’s words, “I don’t want her to see me,” rung in his ears and he decided to hold off on telling you what had come up, at least until he could see you at the office tomorrow.

Whiskey: Hey sweetheart, sorry something came up and I can’t do dinner tonight. Everything’s fine, see you at the office, sugar. X

Your phone went off and you quickly unlocked it, eager to hear back from Jack so you could head over. A frown pulled the corners of your lips down at his text, but you knew he wouldn’t cancel on you without good reason.

You: See you tomorrow, cowboy. Better make it up to me ;)

Frankie had left the door slightly ajar and was pacing around his room, arms crossed in front of him when he heard a quick knock, then the handle was turning and Whiskey crossed the threshold. He took a cursory glance around the room: nothing but minibar booze bottles, thankfully. Whiskey let out a sigh of relief that was short-lived when he took in Frankie’s demeanor. Frankie’s face was taut with shame, and his gaze refused to rise any higher than Whiskey’s boots.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Frankie choked out, “ Pope, and Hawk… I can’t disappoint them again. I’ve been clean for three years, and I didn’t…”

Jack shook his head and beckoned Frankie over, wrapping his arm around the other man’s shoulders and pulling him in for a quick, tight hug.

“C’mon, Flyboy, this is not the time nor the place to talk about this. I’m taking you back to my place, and we’re gonna have some whiskey that’s much better than what you’ve had here, and then we can talk.”

Frankie nodded and grabbed his hat, planting it on his head as Whiskey tugged him out of the hotel room. He was so deep in his thoughts and his guilt for having Whiskey come out that he didn’t realize where he was until the elevator dinged. Whiskey unlocked and opened the door to his condo, giving way to a view so incredible Frankie almost forgot to breathe. Across from the entryway, on the far side of the condo, the gorgeous New York night skyline twinkled back at them from beyond the wall of glass windows. Frankie marveled at the rustic elegance of Jack’s home. It had an entirely open floor plan, giving Frankie a view of the dark cherry butcher block island, the top-of-the-line range top, and other appliances, all immaculately clean. For a moment, he wondered if that was because Whiskey ordered out more than he cooked, but then he saw the bags of takeout on the counter and immediately felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, looks like I interrupted your dinner plans.”

Whiskey closed and locked the door behind him, hanging his jacket up on the nearby hook. He glanced over at the takeout, then put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, partner. I just told her something came up. You hungry? I ordered her Drunken Noodles, be a shame to put them to waste.”

Frankie was about to decline when his stomach rumbled, and Whiskey chuckled.

“C’mon, Flyboy, go sit down on the couch and I’ll bring the food and some whiskey round.”

With a nod, he toed his dress shoes off (they were all he had without his go bag) and made for the brown leather couch. He sat down a bit stiffly, feeling awkward given the circumstances. Whiskey brought over the containers of food, handing one to Frankie and resting his own on the coffee table before grabbing them the promised drinks. He sat down, and Frankie took his drink in one hand, relishing in the smooth burn as he took a sip, then set it down to dive into his food.

They ate in a relaxed and cozy silence. Frankie finished first, which wasn’t a surprise. When Whiskey finished, he took Frankie’s empty container with him to toss in the garbage before he made his way back. An awkward silence replaced the previous comfortable one, and Frankie found himself having a hard time pulling his gaze from the amber liquid in his glass. Whiskey took a deep breath, then turned on the couch to face Frankie.

“Santiago said you’ve been clean for three years? That’s quite the accomplishment.”

“Yeah, thanks. Doesn’t really feel like it right now. I feel like I failed. I’m worried I’ll slip up.”

“I don’t think you will, Frankie. Neither do Pope or Bourbon.”

Jack didn’t know why, but the words rang true in his mind, even though he hadn’t known Frankie for very long.

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to throw three years of hard work away, Flyboy.”

A small smile tugged at Frankie’s lips and he took a sip from his glass.

“Must’ve been weird for Halcón. Last time she saw me, fuck, I was barely with it. The suspension hit me hard. I had been getting my shit together before Colombia and the funeral. I just wanted to be able to fly. I couldn’t and still can’t stand the idea of being grounded. That, and I knew my fianceé would leave me if I didn’t get it together. But then, well, we all went to Colombia.”

“I couldn’t imagine being grounded. I don’t fly often, but to not have the option? I dunno what I’d do.”

Whiskey shook his head and grimaced. Frankie perked up, head snapping to meet Whiskey’s gaze.

“You fly?”

“Mmmhmm, was in the Air Force for a bit, did jets. Statesmen has an F-22, the Silver Pony, that I fly.”

A small buzz of excitement was washing over Frankie, and he subconsciously scooted closer to Whiskey. He didn’t really have anyone to talk to about flying, even if helicopters and jets were two very different means of flying.

“What made you risk it, Flyboy? What happened in Colombia?”

Frankie frowned and let out a deep sigh.

“Pope had been down there for a few years, chasing a narco named Gabriel Martín Lorea. He finally got a break when his CI told him she knew where he was hiding out and where he was stashing his money. He showed up outta the blue asking us, our old team, to come down and do recon, $17k just for a week of recon. If we wanted to stay on after that, we’d be entitled to 25% of whatever we seized, and the rumour was that Lorea had $75M on him. I’m guessing Halcón was busy with a mission for you guys, and I’m glad she was. It ended up being a fucking shitshow.”

Whiskey noted the faraway look in Frankie’s eyes as he sighed and took another swig from his glass, shaking his head as Frankie recalled the events.

“After the recon, Pope said he thought we could do the job ourselves, take all the money and not tell the local governments. We found out that the local agency hadn’t been the ones to pay us the $17k. That had come out of Pope’s pocket. He was so sure that the locals were on Lorea’s payroll, and if he went to the local agency, Lorea would disappear with the money. At the end of the day, none of us could say no. Turned out the rumors of Lorea having $75M were wrong. The house was stuffed, literally, with cash. Tom, our captain, got greedy. He ignored our hard-out time and insisted we take more loads of cash. We ended up stealing close to $250M, then we burned the house down.”

Whiskey whistled. “$250M is a lot of money, partner…”

Frankie barked out a humorless laugh, his eyes rueful.

“Too much. Our helo couldn’t take it all and make it over the Andes. I knew it before take off, and I warned Tom and Pope, but all any of us could see was the money. Tom didn’t want to leave it on the runway. I almost had us over the Andes when a gearbox blew, and I had to get us back to flat. We had to cut the money net, and it was just our luck that it happened to be over a coke farm. It was a bad landing. I honestly don’t know how none of us were seriously injured, but Pope and Tom went to go and convince the farmers to get out of the money. Our comms were out, so we were going off of hand signals. Tom got too trigger happy, and he dropped a few of the villagers. I-I provided cover fire, too…”

Frankie hung his head, no matter how much Will, Benny, or Pope had tried to reassure him, he still held an enormous amount of guilt over what had happened. He felt Whiskey’s hand rest on his shoulder, and he leaned into the touch.

“That’s what you were trained to do, Flyboy. You couldn’t have known any different, especially without comms.”

Frankie nodded, taking a large gulp of his whiskey, then continued on.

“A couple days later, we took fire in the mountains, and they got Tom. It ended up being a kid and another guy from the coke farm. We killed them, but there was nothing we could do for Tom. Headshot, he died instantly. 10 years we all served together, and then he was gone, leaving behind an ex and two daughters. It could have been any one of us though, Jack… we all took lives during that mission. Tom just took the wrong ones. It… it could have been me even, I shot some of those villagers, too.”

Frankie felt Whiskey’s grip on his shoulder tighten and looked up to see the empathetic sadness of someone who truly understood how he felt reflected back in Whiskey’s eyes. Frankie cleared his throat.

“We ended up bailing on a lot of the cash, taking only what we could carry in our daypacks and tossing the rest in a ravine so we could haul Tom’s body out with us. At the end of it, we made out with around $5M, but we all agreed it should go to Tom’s family. I got back to find my fianceé had left. She couldn’t stand my leaving with Pope. Looking back, my addiction is probably what really did us in, but I was devastated to come home to an empty house after everything that had happened. Things got… dark after that. I fell back on old habits, fuck, I had barely been clean a few months when we went to Colombia. I didn’t want to think about what we’d done there, didn’t want to feel the emptiness, didn’t want to sleep and deal with the nightmares. I was a mess, and I… uh, I took too much one day. Pope found me unconscious, lying on the ground, and got me to the hospital. When I came to, I realized I didn’t want to end up dead in my shitty apartment, once they discharged me, I checked into rehab.”

Frankie took another drink. No one other than Pope knew that knocking on death’s door had been the turning point for him. Whiskey chewed on his lip, taking a drink and debating whether he should share his past as well.

“Drugs are… a terrible thing to get hooked on. My high school sweetheart, carrying my unborn son, was murdered by two meth head freaks robbing a fucking convenience store. I was on leave from the Air Force, waiting for them to come home when I got the call. I didn’t realize how much it festered in me until about a year back when we were taking down the Golden Circle.”

Frankie nodded. He remembered that he had been glad he was clean by then.

“I’m sorry, Whiskey… I didn’t know, I shouldn’t have-”

Jack’s hand moved from Frankie’s shoulder to rub his back reassuringly.

“Listen, the things you’ve done and seen for our country… and not, well, it’s a lot, and I know it’s not the same as the freaks who… it’s not the same. I almost sabotaged the mission. My hate-addled brain thought it would be justice… It was Bourbon who very literally knocked me on my ass and kept me from making a decision I’d regret. She encouraged me to see a Statesmen counselor, which has been a lot of work, but has been more helpful than I ever thought it would be. Have you thought about that?”

Frankie was distracted for a moment by Jack’s hand. It felt nice, reassuring, safe, things that had been sorely lacking for him today.

“I have and I did, well, I had to as part of the program, and I kept it up for a bit after. It helped, but… I couldn’t really talk about what happened with Tom. Sure there’s confidentiality and all that, but what we did is all kinds of illegal. I couldn’t exactly bring that to a session or group.”

Frankie snorted, a ghost of a smile tugged at a corner of his mouth.

“Really though, aside from the program I was in after rehab to get my license back, I’ve gotten some hobbies and some other out-outlets. This was just a lot. I needed to not be alone.”

Jack cocked his head at the way Frankie stuttered and subconsciously fidgeted with the bandage on his right wrist. He had picked up from the night prior that Frankie had a thing for pain, and Frankie’s reaction when he had bandaged him up was further proof of that. But using it as his sole outlet or method of working through his issues was something he wouldn’t enable. His eyes narrowed, and before Frankie could blink, Jack snatched his left hand, mindful of the tender marks as he held fast and fixed Frankie with a hard stare. Frankie flinched at the sudden movement then his eyes widened a little.

“You know this ain’t a solution, Flyboy.”

Jack’s voice had an edge to it bordering on a growl. Frankie shook his head quickly.

“Shit, no, Whiskey, the i-impact p-play stuff, i-it’s an outlet, and it’s not my only outlet. I met my old partners, Sam and then later on her husband, a year and a half or two years ago. I was a year clean before I even had my first session with either of them. I met Sam when she booked a flight tour, and one thing led to another… She’d come back into town and sometimes her husband would come with, but we all kept everything pretty quiet. They helped me relax, and they had their fun.”

Frankie was doing his best to be nonchalant, but he couldn’t help the slight bitterness creeping into his voice. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Jack’s tone had thrown him off guard, unexpectedly stirring something in him. Whiskey, of course noticed on both counts, having been trained to do so. He could see through Frankie a mile away. Frankie nervously took another sip from his glass, shuddering as Whiskey’s thumb gingerly rubbed circles over the marks, seemingly accepting his explanation.

“You know, had I known about your… interests, I would have done things a bit differently last night, Flyboy.” He winked at Frankie, then smirked as he examined Frankie’s wrist more thoughtfully. “How are they doing?”

“G-good, thanks. And uh, well, you’re one of 3 people who know.” Frankie murmured.

Whiskey’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise as he nodded and released Frankie’s hand.

“Really? Not Pope or Bourbon?”

“Are you kidding me? Pope would never let me hear the end of it. There are some things he doesn’t need to know.” Frankie chuckled and shook his head. “And Halcón? Well, there was never any reason for her to know. We never did anything together before last night.”

“How long has it been since you last saw Sam or her husband?”

Frankie downed the rest of his whiskey, eyes far away for a moment, remembering their last session, the sharp pain followed by a rush of endorphins and the occasional soothing praise. He shook his head gently, blinking himself out of his memories at the feeling of Jack’s warm hand on his knee.

“It’s been a while, six months? They moved overseas.”

There was a beat of silence, Whiskey could sense there was something up, it was a subtle shadow flitting across Frankie’s face. He decided to push a little more.

“Did you have feelings for them?”

“It was complicated.”

The edge in Frankie’s voice was tinged with pain, and he tried to cover it up with a laugh that came out humorless.

“I guess it isn’t that complicated. After six months, things shifted, and they made it clear I wasn’t part of their long term plan. It became very transactional, which was fine, but there was less and less... care after.”

“Oh.”

The response slipped from Jack’s lips, and he was momentarily stunned quiet before his temper began to flare. His index finger and thumb gently gripped Frankie’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Listen carefully, Flyboy. What I did last night was the bare minimum of what someone should do in that kind of situation. Anything less is negligent. Christ, how was this ever stress relief for you if you were left to free fall afterwards?”

Whiskey’s voice was calm and even, but Frankie could see the fury raging in his eyes. Sensing Whiskey’s desire for understanding, he nodded then shrugged.

“I guess I’d try to go on a hike with one of the guys or go train at the gym.”

Silence fell between them, a muscle in Whiskey’s jaw clenching before he glanced at the clock and let out a deep sigh, willing himself to calm down.

“It’s already just about midnight, Flyboy. Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll put on a clean bandage for you once you’re done. You can use my bathroom. There’s a clean towel hanging you can use. Don’t worry about clothes, I’ll leave something for you to sleep in on my bed so you can change while I set up the guest room for you.”

Frankie was about to protest, saying he could do his own bandages, but Whiskey fixed him with a stare and shook his head.

“Go on Flyboy, get yourself in the shower. Head down the hall, second door on the left. Your room is across the hall. I’ll be waiting there with the medkit when you’re done.”

Whiskey took Frankie’s empty glass and stood, taking their glasses to the sink while Frankie got up and made his way to the shower. A pensive frown tugged at Whiskey’s lips. Tonight certainly explained a lot of things. The sharp fury that permeated Whiskey’s chest when they were talking about Frankie’s previous partners returned. How could someone not be bothered with aftercare? It was also clear that Frankie felt abandoned by them. On some level, the poor man was probably terrified of that happening again, if he even entertained the thought of something between the three of you. Whiskey waited a few moments until he heard the water running before heading into his room. He let out a sigh as he grabbed a white t-shirt and a pair of linen shorts for Frankie to wear, leaving them on the bed before he left to make sure the guest room was all set.

Frankie undressed quickly, folding his clothes and setting them down on the vanity in a neat pile crowned with his hat. Next, he made quick work of unwrapping the bandage around his wrist and tossing the materials in the garbage. He let out a sigh of relief as he stepped into the shower and the hot water scoured the last two days from his skin. The relief was quickly replaced with a small whine of pain as the water hit his wrist. Closing his eyes and bracing himself against the wall with his forearm he breathed through the pain, acclimating to the sensation. Frankie took a minute to just exist, trying to enjoy the quiet that had slowly crept back into his mind. Taking a deep breath, he set to work getting himself clean. The steam made the air thick and heavy with the scent of Whiskey’s soap, something akin to leather and tobacco leaves. It clung to Frankie’s lungs, and he could have stayed there enjoying it for considerably longer. But, he didn’t want to keep Whiskey waiting, so he rinsed off and hopped out of the shower. He toweled off, smirking to himself when he saw it was monogrammed (because of course it was), then headed out and changed quickly into the shirt and shorts that had been left for him.

Whiskey looked up in time to see Frankie stride through the doorway wearing his shirt and shorts, smelling like him, his soap. He swallowed thickly and tried to recover with a smile.

“Feel better, Flyboy? C’mon, sit down. Let’s have a look.”

Frankie nodded, then took a seat next to Whiskey on the bed and gave him his right hand. Whiskey hummed his approval at the lack of resistance from Frankie, something the pilot felt tug at his chest.

“This is looking much better, Flyboy, should be completely healed in a few days.”

Whiskey smiled as he finished tending to and wrapping up Frankie’s wrist. Without prompting, Frankie offered his other wrist and Whiskey couldn’t bite back the smirk that followed. He was glad though, glad that Frankie was trusting him with this and was embracing these moments, even if it was for something small. Frankie’s left wrist was considerably better off, but even so, Whiskey was still gentle as he looked him over.

Frankie’s heart fluttered at the intimacy of what was happening. Here was Jack, a man he’d known for barely 48 hours, who was taking care of him, who had dropped everything to come get him, who had spent his evening letting Frankie talk. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him this way.

There was an overwhelming urge building in his chest, and without thinking, he acted on it.

He gripped the collar of Whiskey’s t-shirt with one hand, tugging him closer as Frankie leaned in and kissed him. Whiskey was shocked for a moment, it had been the last thing he had been expecting, but he quickly recovered when he felt Frankie’s tongue swipe at his lip. His hand rested along the column of Frankie’s throat, thumb grazing over the scruff along his jaw as he deepened the kiss, leaning into Frankie and tasting him.

A small moan pulled Jack back to his senses, resting his forehead against Frankie’s and cupping his jaw with this other hand. They both panted, trying to catch their breath, and Whiskey smiled as he gave Frankie another quick kiss. For a moment, Frankie was worried he had overstepped when Whiskey cut off their kiss, but looking into the other man’s eyes, he knew that wasn’t the case.

“You’ve had a long day, Flyboy, we’re not gonna do anything tonight. Tomorrow though, if you want, I could help you get rid of some of that stress and help you come down the right way. No rush, no pressure, you can say no and nothing changes. I don’t want an answer right now either, sleep on it.”

Frankie’s breath quickened and his pupils dilated at the thought, but one thing nagged at him.

“What about Halcón?”

Whiskey chuckled and patted Frankie’s shoulder.

“Well it’s what we both want, in a manner of speaking. She’d be onboard, but she doesn’t have to know exactly what we do for now unless you’re comfortable with it. A lot of this is stuff I know she wants to go over on Friday, but for now, when it comes to me and Bourbon, keep an open mind and try not to overthink it, partner. If you want to do this tomorrow, then we can do it. If not, no harm, no foul, you’re still welcome to stay here and keep me company.”

Frankie nodded, still processing what Whiskey had said and more than a little surprised that Whiskey was inviting him back regardless of his decision. Whiskey stood up then, squeezing Frankie’s shoulder.

“G’night, Flyboy. Holler if you need anything.”

Frankie was back in Colombia. He felt sluggish, his feet refusing to respond the way he wanted them to. He saw the villager from the cocaine farm pop up from the rocky outcrop, but Frankie couldn’t move, couldn’t draw his gun to take him out. He cried out in anguish as the man fired.

“No! Tom!”

Then he was surrounded by Pope, Benny, Will, you, and Whiskey, statuesque as the man who killed Tom lined up and dropped Pope, moving his way down the line. Frankie was sobbing now, he was being swallowed up by the ground, sinking helplessly as the people he cared for were murdered.

Whiskey woke with a start to the sound of shouting.

Ripping the sheet and comforter off, Whiskey glanced at the clock. It read 01:30 and he sighed. Frankie just couldn’t catch a break.

“P-please, No! Po-Pope, God, n-no, Hal-Halcón! Whiskey!”

He really didn’t want to shake Frankie awake, worried as to how he might react waking up from that sort of dream, but Jack had to do something.

“Hey, Frankie, I’m right here, you gotta wake up. Wake up, Flyboy.”

Frankie shot up, feeling like ice water had been poured down his spine. He was wild-eyed and breathing heavily, but once again, Whiskey’s soothing words served to ground him, and he clung to them with all he had. He felt Whiskey pull him into a hug, and Frankie didn’t care about the awkward angle, he clung to the embrace as well.

Whiskey’s heart ached at the way Frankie clutched at him after hearing him call out Pope’s, his, and your names. He had a vague idea of what might have happened, he still had dreams where he couldn’t save his loved ones every now and then. Once Frankie’s breathing calmed a bit, Whiskey tugged him up out of bed.

“C’mon Flyboy, you’re coming with me.”

Frankie didn’t argue, he just followed, grateful that Whiskey was pulling him by his hand, needing that point of contact. Whiskey pulled back the covers on the side opposite of his and waited until Frankie crawled in before he pulled the covers over him, then slid in on his side of the bed. He scooted a bit closer, not wanting to crowd Frankie unless he wanted the contact, and was pleased when the other man scooted back until his back rested against Jack’s chest.

“Get some sleep, Flyboy. I’ve got you.”

Sooner than he expected, Whiskey heard soft snores coming from Frankie. He smiled then wrapped his arm around him and pulled him closer.

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